(no subject)

[initiates]

Date: February 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings, while older Transports are returning from the mission to Uruguay.
Warnings: None.

While those who have been guests of Exsilium since at least the last wave of Transports return from their desperate mission and are pressed out of the Transporter room and into the Courtyard, the Initiative prepares to receive a second wave at the same time. And if you're in that second wave, the fresh meat, then you've just been hustled and bustled through mazes of information and literal, wide corridors of the Initiative Hold and you've been equipped with your weapon—be it a gun, a sword, or even your existing powers. They've handed you this light netbook and a small pouch of coins (or a debit card, if you're more inclined), and there are several Transports before and after you going through the very same motions. You can hear the Greeter's voice as she walks alongside large groups, telling them all about the history of this place and sharing with you your purpose here in a hurried and urgent tone. "You're in luck that we have enough rooms for all of you; the housing building is getting awfully full. Please, let me show you into the courtyard."

You pass what looks like huge gymnasiums, all with dummies and targets strewn and splayed around the room. Training areas. There are even classrooms, and a few small offices. You're rushed past a large library while the Greeter informs you that you can find almost all your information there, if you've got the time to look—and trust her, you'll have time. You don't spend a lot of time in the bank, and it's a bit of a blur of exchanges with more and more of these strangely-accented and oddly polite-seeming members of the Initiative.

Soon enough, you're in a massive courtyard bustling with all the other Transports. It's not exactly what you'd expect, and it looks more like barracks than anything—huge walls of concrete and stone, separating you from all of the hallways you'd just passed through. It's raining heavily, and dark clouds loom in the air, though it hasn't turned to snow. It's a chill cold, and there are shelters—long cloth hangings that extend from the walls of concrete to house you from the rain, but not enough. Most notably, the courtyard is filled with a marketplace. Even in the cold and the rain, there are several citizens seated at their covered booths and tables, bundled up against the weather. They're selling all manner of their own handmade goods and foods, and citizens and Transports alike are traveling from one small covered shop to another in search of all manner of necessities.

The Greeter's voice has become so faint now, but you swear you can make it out in the back of the crowds as she tells you, "Good luck. Be safe!"

Her voice is drowned out by the busy marketplace, though even the transactions taking place are somewhat subdued. Nobody is overly happy, really, though most citizens can be found with smiles on their faces. It doesn't seem like they're that shocked to see you, either; even if you're not bound in tattered rags and wrapped in heavy shawls as they are. You're welcome to walk up to a shop, and find yourself something to eat—hey, maybe you'll even find something akin to a raincoat. Or, you can join the others under the coverings against the walls. Where am I? What war? She was talking so fast, and it didn't all make very much sense… did anyone else catch it all?

Welcome to the courtyard. Welcome to the Initiative Hold—and most importantly, welcome to Exsilium

Comments

oops i'm on hiatus but i cannot resist

[bloodyantivan]

[Zevran tuts quietly at the rain. It's sadly become a rather familiar sight. Another dreary day serving in a kidnapped war, another slew of forgettable-if-adorably-confused faces. Soon there will be more mission announcements. More chaos, more violence, and he thinks about how wars have a way of dragging on for lifetimes.

It's sobering, which he deeply dislikes. Fortunately, there's someone to distract him, someone interesting. Tow-headed (and with such good taste in hairstyles!) and moving gracefully as a minuet toward a fruit stall. Zevran weaves through the crowd to get a better look, and is completely delighted to see the new object of his fascination is a fellow elf.

Though it's hard to call some, really any, of the elves here 'fellow', none are Antivan and only two he has ever met were from Thedas at all. The other elves here know not of alienages and assassin guilds, of the dull, prejudicial, pejorative nicknames and permanently low station. Better for them, really, and Zevran admires their elegance and serene demeanor while he does not understand it in the least. It always does his heart good to imagine a world where an elf such as his fair-haired new friend can carry weapons within a crowded city market unconcerned; he wears his own twin daggers proudly on his back.

Zevran sidles up to the stranger, picking up an apple and sniffing it discreetly.

Food in this world is strange, like so many other things. Almost poisoned, really, with the things in the air and soil and water, and the things they spray on top to keep them fresh. Zevran grimaces and places the apple back on the pile.]

...I do not mind being kidnapped and forced to fight in a war against my will, but to feed us like this seems cruel and unusual.

yesss come to me /bats eyelashes

[tofindthesun]

[looking down is something he's still starting to get used to, in terms of socializing. he thinks he knows that hair, those ears, this elf-- he knows his name, at least, and his face. but he will not presume he is known in return.

still, his words give him thought. the fruit seemed harmless, but when zevran sniffs at it, legolas brings his attention to the one in his hand as well. he'd thought it only a byproduct of what lingered in this world's air, just as it was strange and different aboard the ship.]

I, for one, do mind. [especially when war comes with death, and his life is not something he will give to the initiative. he glances from the fruit in his hand, solemnity giving way to curiosity.] But how do you mean? Are we paid too little for extravagant fares, or for poisoned wares?

[....or maybe zevran just doesn't like apples.]

[bloodyantivan]

If we were paid what we are worth, I doubt even our grand Initiate could afford me. [Zevran chuckles, and, seeing the vendor eyeballing him, replaces the fruit to its proper location.] I do believe they try and to right by us, and it is not the worst food I have ever eaten... but it lacks imagination. [Zevran tsks quietly.]

You are new here, yes? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Zevran Arainai.

[And what is a proper introduction without a bow?]

[tofindthesun]

And I would not ask payment, except what food and lodging I would desire. Though I hear they are providing enough of that as it is.. [a small shrug. he hands over the payment for the fruit, as it is food and he hasn't eaten properly in some days now.]

I know. [a small smile of amusement at first, then one in polite greeting. he returns the bow with his own, though it's a bit difficult without accidentally bumping into someone.] Legolas, of Mirkwood. Well-met again, Zevran Arainai.

[bloodyantivan]

[Is this fellow one of those sorts who goes on a lot about doing what is right? Zevran is learning a little bit more about being heroic, bit by bit, but he still doesn't feel justly compensated, what with the being kidnapped from his mission and all.

Typically, he appraises higher than a room and board, though both are nicer here than many places he's found himself.]

--Again, is it? Remind me again how we met before. I do try to remember everyone I'm ridiculously attracted to within moments of meeting, but [a dramatic little sigh] there is so much beauty in the world...

...i lost this notif, argh

[tofindthesun]

[..no, he's just really.. low maintenance. you're not learning much, zevran, don't worry.

a dismissive wave.] It was another world I had been brought to, before coming here. Not the brightest of times-- and rather literally, given that there was no sun.

We met with our situations reversed, I believe. In which you knew who I was, and I did not know you at all. Yet I confess, even now I still do not know much, save for your name.

:D hello again

[bloodyantivan]

No sun? [Zevran raises an eyebrow. Well, there are stranger things. It's not often his reputation precedes him in even a small way, at least not to people who don't know what it means to be a Crow. Still, it seems as though Legolas had a decent impression of him. He wonders if he was supposed to kill him. Oh well, no such goal exists now.]

In my experience, elves do not belong underground. It is my hope that our life here, such as it is, will be somewhat of an improvement.

As for me, I am an assassin from Antiva - every bit as fascinating and exciting as it sounds.

heeyyy /o/ i have not abandoned this

[tofindthesun]

Not underground. There was a sky, and stars, and a moon.. but. No sun. [shrugs. he hasn't bothered trying to make sense of it for some time now, not after being whisked onto a flying metal death trap in space.] But I am not unused to walls of stone, though I prefer free air. And this place is as good as any, I suppose.. though it could use more trees.

[he's almost starting to miss the space ship and its acre wide forest.]

I did know you were of Antiva, but not that you were an.. assassin. [..interesting. and potentially dangerous. which doesn't seem to be a new concept, lately. he's not even sure he knows what an assassin is, but only raised eyebrows betray his surprise either way.] You must have tales to tell of it.

[bloodyantivan]

I most certainly do. Many good tales, best accompanied by wine and laughter. Are you perhaps an adventurer yourself? I notice you are not to perturbed by your surroundings, which is surprising, to say the least. [At first, Zevran thought Legolas was Dalish - what with the green and the bow. But he lacks the vallaslin that he would surely have at his age, as well as the standoffish and/or angry attitude. He could not imagine most Dalish would take being trapped here well, then again Merrill had taken things similarly in stride.]

[tofindthesun]

I do love a nice glass of wine, and charming company with it.

[wine, company, cheese and bread. leafy greens and a side of fruit. an idyllic meal, and likely not one he'll be eating often here, judging by the prices. not unless he wants to support this diet by working for the initiative.]

Ah, not an adventurer-- I am but a simple warrior, when time calls for it. Rather bland in comparison. But I have been brought to other worlds before, so while it is unpleasant, one learns to.. adapt.

[bloodyantivan]

I assure you, I am quite charming.

[And his grin very much proves that, no? Zevran leans in a little too close, ostensibly so he can be heard over the crowd.]

Let us find some time to share this wine and a tale or two in the near future. I would very much like to learn your insights on these other worlds - it is possible some of it may prove useful here. Today I must search out my own allies, see if any have been brought here.

[tofindthesun]

Oh, I have no doubt of that. [charming, indeed. luckily for zevran, he doesn't mind the closeness. while he can't say definitively that he is.. attracted, elves appreciate fairness and beauty, wherever it is.

(and, sadly, whatever its intentions are.)]

I do not think my insight will be of any value here, as I do not understand most of it myself.. But there is no harm in sharing it, all the same. I wish you luck in your search, until then.