exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Date: May 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings, while those Transports on the mission to Wollongong return.
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.

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[ Don't you worry, Saul, the blood is clothing-only, and everything that had been on his skin is healed away cleanly. Which is good, because he's taking the initiative to offer out a hand himself. ]

It's good to meet you, Saul. I'm Ashraf Salib. [ He adds on a warm smile. ] I was here -- well, many years ago, from my standpoint. I'm still not sure how long it's been here.

[Saul's handshake is firm, almost friendly. Truth be told, he's a little relieved to not have to officially welcome Ashraf to town — that's one thing he's completely unqualified for.]

Welcome back, I guess.

[Something still feels weird, though. Once their hands have parted, Saul tests his own grip.

Hm.]

Did you do something to me?

[ He looks puzzled for a second, but — oh, right, people here don't all automatically know what his magic is.

He smiles, and, simply: ] I blessed you. [ It looks like he's just going to leave it at that, until the smile cracks to a grin. ] It's a form of holy magic that increases your strength — I threw in a spell of agility, too. If you had any errands to quickly run, now would be the time.

Blessed...?

[He cycles through a number of thoughts pretty quickly. This is weird. This is really weird. Who does this guy think he is, running around casting spells and shit on people without them asking? It's rude, it's creepy, it's —

Useful.

Saul raises his eyebrows, clearly intrigued, and allows himself a little smile.]

Blessed. Okay. Can't say I've ever been blessed in quite this way before. What else can you do?

[ oh no this is one of his favorite subjects: shit he can do with holy magic. His grin settles into a jaunty confidence, but he at least pretends to be humble enough to offer a shrug. ]

A lot of things. Most of my magic is meant to assist others in battle — enhancements, shields, healing magic, that sort of thing... although, if you have any demons or undead creatures around, [ god did he just wink ] just let me know, I can take care of them.

[Whoops.

Saul just fell head over heels in extreme like.]

Ashraf, you said? It's a pleasure.

[He's grinning now, too, and fishes around in his coat pocket for one of his thoroughly outdated business cards.]

So the phone number, location, and website on here are all obviously outdated, but should you ever find yourself in need of legal advice... not that it applies here in full yet, but — who knows, right?

[ He takes the card curiously (HOW NOVEL, NO ONE HAS THIS SHIT IN FANTASY LAND) and looks it over, smiles, and pockets it. It looks like all the information on it is useless but the name and title, but that's enough for him. ]

You sound like a useful man to know. Have you been here very long?

I am.

[AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR MODESTY.]

And no, not long. Today actually marks one month since I showed up. How long were you here before the powers that be abducted you again?

[ He pauses to consider that, but shakes his head after a few seconds. ]

I don't remember, exactly. It might have been... [ He shrugs. ] Around a year? But we're in the same boat, with how faded my memory is of it.

I've talked to a few people who've been here about that long. Maybe you'll see some familiar faces.

[Saul rocks back on his heels, a little restless. It has nothing to do with their conversation and everything to do with that blessing — he doesn't have any errands to run, but he feels like he should.

Or he could just run!

...what a weird thought.]

[ yeah, he sees that restlessness. It's not unusual, for someone that doesn't usually live immersed in ~~buffs~~ holy magic. It pulls up a little smirk, and he waves a hand toward him again. It's a related spell, but comes this time with a simple golden glow around Saul that fades quickly, and is meant solely to increase strength and proficiency with weapons. ]

You look nearly ready for a battle, now.

[Please hold while Saul stares at his own arm and lifts a hand to touch the fabric of his coat. He hesitates, like it might burn him or something.]

Too bad I'm a lover, not a fighter. Gold looks good on me, though, don't you think? Can you make that a permanent thing?

[Don't worry; he's joking.

...mostly...]

[ TOO BAD BECAUSE ASHRAF'S NOT. ]

Well, as a matter of fact... assumptio.

[ He grins. Another wave of his hand as he says the word, and this time the effect takes longer. But in a second or two, a second golden glow springs up around Saul. This one actually emanates from him, lighting up skin and clothing alike, and doesn't show and signs of fading away again. ]

That does look good on you.

[It occurs to Saul that this is absolutely terrible for the whole "staying under the radar" thing he's trying to do, but who cares. He's glowing. Literally.

He laughs.]

Wow.

[ That just gets a hum of a noise, one part conversational 'yes I see' and one part prideful 'yeah I'm pretty awesome'. ]

You have about three minutes to enjoy it. And if anyone happens to attack you within those three minutes, they'll have a hard time of it.

[Ways to mess with Saul's good mood: that. This whole time he's been functioning under the suspicion that he might get his ass kicked at any moment. It's his natural state, made a thousand times worse by the "war" word that's tossed around this place willy-nilly. He frowns a little.]

Ever consider working as someone's personal bodyguard?

[ He blinks, his own good mood sinking a few notches with a question like that. It's not really his preferred job, but he has done it before... but more importantly: ]

Are you in need of one?

[ Because that tends to imply someone is in danger, which is always concerning. ]

I had one, back home. I kinda miss him.

[He's joking, sort of. He does miss Huell (file under: things he thought he'd never think), and he does miss feeling safe, but he has no real need for a bodyguard here.

At the moment, anyway.]

But no, I'm not.

[ A lawyer with a bodyguard? Dang, dude. But the briefly solemn look is gone again, straight back to the pleasant smile. ]

Good! I would hate to be worried about a new friend of mine. [ And because he's just so modest: ] But to answer your question, no. My talents are too useful to consider selling them to the services of just one person. But that said, assistance is always free, and all you have to do is call me.

[Saul don't play around, yo. He's smiling again as well, in part amused by Ashraf's word choice. Friend.

Also: Free. That's always a reason to smile.]

That's my motto — better call Saul. My services aren't free, usually, but in light of your offer... I'm willing to make an exception. Call it a fair trade.

[ lookin amused here: ] Yours rhymes better than mine does. I'd probably better rethink that.

[ To the offer, though, he just waves a hand. ]

If I ever need your services, I'll be happy to pay what they're worth. Everyone needs to make a living.

[Saul plucks the lapels of his coat. CAPTAIN COOL RIGHT HURR. Then:] Good to know.

[ Aanndd with a grin: ] Provided I have the money. Priests aren't known for their wealth, generally.

Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, hm?

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