(no subject)

[initiates]

Date: April 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings.
Warnings: None.

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

[totallytrustworthy]

[A 'jump'? Odd phrasing.]

Give it a few days, you'll find plenty more. 'Efficient' isn't a word the Initiative likes to keep in its vocabulary.

[2leftfeet]

[There's something small and sharp in her eyes and the angle of her chin that slowly folds in on itself like the blade of an army knife.]

They're refusing to send people back. [It's not really a question. Shepard shifts first forward onto the balls of her feet and then back to her heel.] What makes them think we'd even fight for them? [She's not exactly a diplomat, but that sure as hell seems like a backward way to go about gaining allies.]

[totallytrustworthy]

Because they can't help it. [Chloe's eyes trace the shift in balance, using the quiet of it as a break for emphasis before carrying on.]

I know, I know, it sounds like bullshit; I'll be the first to admit it. Having that kind of power and no real control of it is the sort of lie that could work in their favor, but believe me, love, having seen how incompetent they are in action with it, there's not a doubt in my mind.

[2leftfeet]

[Great. So she's been ripped away from her own people and problems by some backwater civilization just getting their hands on advanced tech. Don't get her wrong, humanity advancing toward greater technological capabilities is well and good and all. It's just--]

Perfect. And here I was hoping the tablet was the clunkiest thing they were going to make me deal with.

[totallytrustworthy]

What, this is clunky to you? [Chloe turns her table over, examining it with a newfound curiosity. Sure, it's no cell phone, but the thing's not exactly a PC either.]

Don't tell me you're one of those magic users that jots down all their notes with an enchanted quill or something.

[2leftfeet]

[Magic. She said the word like that was actually a thing that existed. Shepard raises an eyebrow, mouth thinning. Yeah. Okay.]

Yeah, clunky. All of this is hands free where I come from. [Case in point, Shepard tucks the tablet between her arm and her side, bringing up her forearm so she can tap on her omnitool. The dull orange glow of the projection encases her forearm and projects a standard error message blinking hollowly above her wrist. There's no connection signal - of course there isn't - but it's good to know that her tech hasn't all been scrambled from the trip here.]

Same idea, better system.

[totallytrustworthy]

[Ah. Now that is the sort of hardware a thief can get behind. Or sell.

Even she has to admit the thing is a massive improvement on the textbook-sized hunk of plastic she totes around.]

No kidding. What the hell is that?

[2leftfeet]

[See, not nearly as lost as she looks. Shepard takes a moment to enjoy the look of surprise on the woman's face; it's not every day she gets to impress someone with something as painfully run of the mill an omnitool.]

It's a standard military issue omnitool - though there are non-weaponized versions available on the market for civilians.

[totallytrustworthy]

You wouldn't happen to have any more of those laying about, would you?

[Also yeah, no, still lost, but lost with some really choice toys. ]

[2leftfeet]

[With a wave of her hand, the omnitool flickers out.] Sorry, I'm not in the habit of carrying spares.

[And while she's pretty certain this woman's not positioned too closely to any strategists the Initiative might have--] So: rough estimate - if we're here to help fight some war, has anyone done the workup on our odds? Because that was a hell of an info dump back there but none of it sounded short term.

[totallytrustworthy]

Hard to say, given the whole time travel nonsense. [To be fair, Lydia's not wrong: Chloe keeps her distance from the Initiative for more reasons than wariness alone. The nightmare disasters that tend to follow their choices in general could certainly be a byproduct of tampering with time, but it might also have a great deal to do with leadership, and if either is the case (or both) Chloe prefers to gather her information in less direct ways.

Though she still gathers a great deal regardless.]

But they're not good. One near endless army of robots, an evil overlord AI, more resources and support than we've ever had-- yeah, safe to say we're the underdog in this fight.

[2leftfeet]

[There's something in her face that shifts at the mention of robots and AI, a certain slant to Shepard's mouth and the set of her shoulders. Her chin comes up and she rocks back onto her heels. It's all bizarrely familiar, isn't it?]

You said an AI is heading up the UE? Are there any people left over there at all or are these the last ones?

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh yeah, loads of people, actually. All-- [Chloe might not know the technical terms for it, but the wild wiggling of fingers in addition to the crinkled, unpleasant expression she's currently wearing get the point well enough across.] completely useless. Or useful, technically, but only for basic tasks, and thinking? Not one of them.

Worse than the usual brainwashing drugs, that's for sure.

[2leftfeet]

The usual? [That earns an eyebrow on the rise and half a head tilt. Where are you coming from that brainwashing drugs are standard fare?

But it's also not really a question Shepard cares to ask. Not just yet and not when it hardly seems applicable to the larger problem at hand.] Has anyone tried a rescue or any kind of recovery to see if it's a permanent state? Or are things in the present really as quiet as they seem? [Surely this entire war can't be fought on the Initiative's jumps back along the time line, can it?]

[totallytrustworthy]

Mm. [That question just earns a quiet little shrug; going into the details of the Order and all its workings seems a bit too personal to be dug up-- particularly when she can still remember the dig of the needle in her thigh and Talbot--]

We've caught a few. Pulled them off their fix and did our best to sort them out. They came through about as well as any addict, but yeah, still made it. If you're lucky you might even bump into one or two while you're here.

Wow whoops I'm super good at formatting up there

[2leftfeet]

[That gets her attention.] I'm guessing someone's already asked them for everything they know about the UE? [It's a formality more than anything. There has to be at least one person with sense on this godforsaken little rock, so surely someone's done that legwork already.]

Shh shh I don't see anything it never happened

[totallytrustworthy]

They were the ones that told us about the iPod upstairs. Most of us had the chance to listen in, problem is the drug makes it more than a little hard to remember.

Getting more than that? Not gonna happen without taking a trip ourselves.

[2leftfeet]

Let me guess - the UE isn't big on the whole tourism thing. [So they were fighting a war where they were outgunned and outmanned against and enemy that wasn't exactly mortal to begin with.

Sounds about right.]

Is there any kind of council here or connection with the Initiative higher ups? Any real organization or is it as rag tag as it looks? [Maybe the marketplace with it's lean to stands and sad scraps of awning are just a bad first impression. Who knows; maybe despite the lack of understanding about their own tech, there's a healthy and flourishing combative organization either from within the Initiative itself or from some enterprising Transport. Surely they were expected to fly blind into this mess, right?]

[totallytrustworthy]

[Chloe laughs. It's not meant to be patronizing, god knows she wishes there was something put in place to keep things steady from the ground up, but there's not and there's never been-- or if there is it's well out of reach and pathetically inefficient. She stifles it well enough at the tail end with her mouth shoved up against the palm of her hand.]

--Christ, no. The whole thing's a bloody mess, darling. Maybe one day we'll get lucky and we'll go back and steal a crayon drawing or chipped cup that will fix the lack of common sense around here, but somehow I sincerely doubt it.

[2leftfeet]

Perfect. [The utterly dead flat chime to the word is as dripping with sarcasm as possible. So: similar odds as home, with even less infrastructure. Great.]

How long have they been pulling people here? I mean, are there people who've been here for years? [Looking around, it could go either way. Sure, the Initiative is hauling over so many people on each pull if the crowd she was bustled through with is any indication - from what she could pull up on the tablet, the island's only so big and they're only using one block of housing as far as she can tell. But. Well. Either the person with the longest term hasn't been here long or their turnover rate is as fast as the lack of organization would lead her to believe.]

And what happens if you die here? [She doesn't know much about time travel, but that seems like the sort of thing that would be a problem. Send people who don't belong here to fight in your wars, get them killed - seems like a good way to screw up more things in the past than might be strictly useful.]

[totallytrustworthy]

Far as I know the current veterans have racked up over a year. Closing in on that mark myself, as well. [Which-- for a reason she can't pinpoint or dwell on-- puts Chloe momentarily on edge.]

As for dying, they bring you back good as new. Not sure how, and I'm sure as hell not fighting for a chance to experience it personally, but the memories of it stick down to the last, so it's not a 'drop another out of a dispenser' deal. [ Oof. Come to think of it this is all a bit too heavy for her tastes. She finally gives in, angles the line of her profile off towards the coffee stall again.] Care for a cup? In weather like this, it's one of the better ways to keep warm.

[2leftfeet]

[If she wasn't a bit dour already, Shepard sobers at answer to her latter questions. Ressurection science isn't unfamiliar to her, but it's not something she's terribly comfortable with either - doesn't trust it and sometimes wonders if she's really still... all there (but she wouldn't know, would she?).

Moreover, it sure as hell shouldn't even be possible in a place like this. Not when they're still getting on the extranet with a hard wire tablet and running on actual hard coin money. Then again, there shouldn't be any way for them to pull people out of their own timelines should there? And yet--]

I'm good, but I'll tag along if you don't mind the company. [She's not entirely sure this isn't some kind of excessively elaborate ruse. Or maybe she's just hoping it is - in which case, she's probably better off staying away from ingesting anything until she can run some comprehensive scans.]

[totallytrustworthy]

No, no. Feel free. [Attempting to keep the rain at bay is about as futile and endeavor as anyone could ever hope to attempt in this place. Chloe steps out into the worst of it, jacket collar high around her throat to at least help keep her shirt from soaking through and giving her yet another cold. (Thank you, Mr. Cutter) The line's not long, and even for barely decent coffee the smell is bloody intoxicating the longer she waits to set in an order. Five minutes later (really, what were they doing up there?) and Chloe turns back with two cups of iced coffee.]

Chloe Frazer, by the way.

[2leftfeet]

[Shepard doesn't like the idea of waiting, but it's cold and raining and at least here under one of the awnings she has enough cover at her back that no one can flank her very easily. So she waits, watching for the other woman to reappear from the line. When she does, Shepard simply gives the second cup an arc look.]

Shepard. --I might be wrong, but iced coffee doesn't seem like the kind of thing to keep you warm.

[totallytrustworthy]

Hey, I offered to get you whatever you wanted. [ Chloe shakes the cup, angles it towards Lydia while she sips from her own.] Turn down hot, you get cold.

Come on. Don't make me drink alone, darling.