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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[time travel is really, really weird. it's never going to not be weird as far as Jericho is concerned.

how much time had he been gone? how much time had...everyone else been gone? which was more important? which even mattered? how hard can he think on it before going permanently cross-eyed? how––

his foot scuffs to a halt, half the step it meant to be in his hustle to move along; he's caught glimpse of that lump against the wall and has to stop, lean back, and peer.]

[ He'd decided this place was safe, but that doesn't mean he's lowered his guard. His eyes are open as soon as there's a slight noise in the area, and he's already whispering spells under his breath. A glowing light sparks out from one hand and quickly spreads to cover his entire body, shimmering and pulsing as if it were his skin itself emanating the light.

And then he slumps back against the wall again, letting out a long breath. ]

[whoa!

Jericho startles at the light show, drawing back a step with his fists clenching. he's not very used to magic fights, or...or what to expect of them, really. if this is what it is.

is it?

his eyes are big, trying to take it all in (and, y'know, just in case there's a need...), and startles again when the sparkly lump sags once more.

blink.

oh.

he remains still for a few seconds, uncertain. then, he starts to advance ever-so-carefully, toe-heel, toe-heel, leaning forward, refusing to blink, and...

wait.....is...is that?]

[ When there's no attack, his eyes open again. There's a glow even there, partially obscuring his usually dark eyes, which squint at — is that a child? ...Is it one he knows, even? There's a faint memory stirring... ]

J...

[ And that's about all he's got, before pain is flaring up again. He hisses between his teeth, but makes himself attempt to stand. ]

[oh, man.

Jericho swoops over, dropping to his knees beside him, quickly laying hands on his arm to keep him in place. there's no mistake! well, there can be, because...jeez, Ashraf, you look a mess!

and hairy. :\

but that's not important!

he frowns deeply, shaking his head in earnest. don't move!]

[ It seems strange to him that whoever this is doesn't say anything, until a memory resurfaces. Guitars. There's a tiny, bloody smile, before he shakes his head. ]

No. Help me up. [ seriously ok he appreciates the helpfulness, but trust him on this one. ]

[but...

he looks very uncertain of that idea. but...it's Ashraf, right? he's like a magic doctor or something.

Jericho scoots in, crouching and offering a shoulder and a means of pushing up while being hoisted up simultaneously. no small feat for a small guy, but he's not breakable!]

[ He leans heavily on Jericho (mental note: apologize later), sets one arm back against the wall, and pushes himself up. And as soon as he's to his feet, he waves a hand through the air. Instantly comes the soothing, green light, shimmering around and intermingling with the still-present golden glow. Some of the blood dries, then fades entirely, and he lets out a breath of relief.

Now able to support himself, he steps away from Jericho and repeats the spell four more times. By then only his robes remain bloody and tattered, with the man in them whole and healthy. He aims a smile over at what he's pretty sure had been a former roommate, a lifetime ago. ]

Thank you! I'm sorry about that.

[Jericho gawks at the light show, never too terribly used to magic. of course, seeing Ashraf's posture relax and expression lose all that pain-induced tension is good reason to shrug that off and be relieved, himself! his own shoulders go up and down with a heavy sigh, exchanging the look in a smaller, more self-conscious fashion.

he shakes his head. no need to be sorry; he ought to've known to trust him off the bat, right? even if he's never seen him heal himself like that...

still, all's well that ends well, right? and he's back! that's great! but...

Jericho's expression grows more curious, a shade confused as he tilts his head at him.

man...look at your face. and outfit! it's a mess, and different...]

[ Ashraf studies him right back, the smile replacing itself with a small frown. This is... definitely not where he'd expected to be. And how does he know this kid? He's pretty sure there were no children like him in the Church. He glances around, feeling another strong surge of previously-buried memory. After a moment his eyes are back on Jericho again, and he looks a little guilty. ]

I'm sorry, I... [ He lowers his voice, leaning in a little. ] I think I've forgotten your name.

[eh...?

Jericho blinks, looking faintly bewildered for a length. it's still strange to him – people coming and going, remembering or not. heck, with all the trouble he's had with Robins in this respect...

he kind of didn't expect it from Ashraf – totally not fair, but hey. he's still a kid in a lot of respects.

so, gee...

he smiles weakly, scratching at his cheek, then quickly waves, as if trying to dismiss the awkward air building up. he's got his notebook with him, of course; he lifts it out of his belt, flips back a handful of pages, and holds out that default greeting he wrote down what feels like ages ago ~~that Elle can't be bothered to search and match letter for letter shut up~~:]

Hello :)
I'm Jericho

[ His smile is quick to blossom back, after reading it. ]

Jericho! Of course, that's right. [ He straightens again, once more turning his attention to their surroundings. ] And this is... Exsilium. Where you and I shared an apartment. Do I have that right?

[that's promising. Jericho seems to perk up, straightening, too, and nodding very certainly. that's right!

it's time to flip past all those used pages to somewhere blank enough to start a new conversation (he is sorry about the little scribbles of teacups in the margins of this page):]

You helped a lot of people at the clinic too

[ He glances over the words, looking a little puzzled. But then a memory filters up — stone floors, cots — and he smiles. ]

You're right, I did. I can't believe I forgot that, I loved it... [ He runs a hand through his hair and laughs, a little embarrassed. ] Well, it's good to be back. It's definitely preferably to scouring the dungeons of Geffen, anyway.

[he smiles faintly, head tilting as he watches Ashraf puzzle it out. it's a relief, yes...but...Jericho's still trying to figure this funky-looking version of him out. and his nose does crinkle a bit with the smile as Ashraf laughs, his shoulders bobbing up and down once.

dungeons gets raised eyebrows and a blink. he lifts his hands, making an easy pair of signs:

All OK?]

[ The sign catches his eye, makes him stare, reminds him of — someone else. Someone also silent, from Rune-Midgard, even... Jacquese, there. He smiles at the thought, which he hasn't had in even longer.

Oh, but that was a question, wasn't it. He blinks, looking up to his face again. ]

Don't worry! It wasn't for me. They only keep demons down there. [ And now he's stepping forward, glancing around as he goes. ] The armory is near here, isn't it?

[oh, only demons. OK.

no, Jericho's still gawking. but the change of topic gives him something else to focus on, at least. he blinks, then gives a quick glance around before confirming... yes. a nod. he tilts himself a little, one step backward, before turning to follow along at half a pace.

he points around the corner. thattaway.]

Great! Thank you.

[ He pauses just long enough to endow himself with a blessing and agility to quicken his steps -- then does the same for Jericho -- and he's starting forward. ]

So then, what have I missed?

[yipe!

Jericho fumbles a bit with this speed, not expecting it – but...well, between Ashraf and Jacquese? he's not completely new to it, so there's that.

as for missing things? Jericho looks at him as he thinks about it, wondering how long he has to consider. granted, he may have missed the exact date (who knows when he would've just been spending long hours at the clinic, anyway?), even with that network announcement (creepy pals you got calling in for you, Ashraf)...

he makes a dubious face, squinting as he shrugs, holding his hand up, making a so-so gesture, and then a pinching motion with finger and thumb. a little? maybe?

nobody's blown anything up to his knowledge, anyway.]

That much, hmm? [ He huffs a laugh, looking forward again toward the way ahead. ] Well, no news is good news.

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