exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

_{( She hides her laugh behind a hand, and then nods. )}

You know, I just might know the place. I'd love to go.

( Awesome. Thumbs up all around, and then he takes a moment, and maybe with a little too much theatrics, offers her his arm. Like a real gentleman. And hoping she's going to lead the way, because he really has no idea where he's going. )

Does it really rain here all the time? I might need something other than post-its.

( With a slightly tragic sigh, because look they are getting soggy. )

_{( She seems to be used to this, taking his arm and leading all at once. She does in a subtle way, not dragging him along so much as always being careful to take the first step.

She glances at the post-its and smiles. )}

Allow me.

_{( She makes a pass over the notes, and the water lifts off of them to coalesce in a bubble above them. She flicks her wrist, and the water spreads out onto the ground, falling like as many drops of rain.

Crystal doesn't usually care about showcasing her powers, and she seems to think he's enough like people she's known that it won't alarm him. Hopefully. )}

( Wow. Okay, he had... wondered, a little, about the rain before, but it was so subtle that he thought maybe it'd be politer not to comment, not when this world is so obviously different from home, when people are here from different worlds. That, however, is something a bit more definite, and he's looking at her with fresh interest. )

Thank you. Do you mind if I ask about your powers, sometime?

( Manners, always manners. Just because she uses them publicly doesn't mean she wants to talk about them, no matter how much people might make those assumptions.

Atlas, his body temperature runs a few degrees higher than most people, so he's like a little personal space heater as they walk. )

_{( She smiles, and nods. This is better than him seeming alarmed, or frightened. The latter's only ever happened to her a few times, but it always makes her sad. )}

Of course. There are all sorts of people, here, so discussing these things is always... interesting.

I bet. Any superpowers at home are based on magic, but in a place like this, I bet it gets a little more complicated.

( Just the fact that they're here, after all. It's a struggle to get his head around it, but he'll just have to deal with it. )

When I say "superpowers," that's ignoring the people who make special suits, use enhancements, and so on.

Is this boring? I can stop if it's boring. I mean, I'm sure there's conversation to be made about the weather.

Not boring, at all. _{( She says, with an encouraging nod. Then she glances at the sky and smiles, wryly. )}

Besides, the weather never changes, here. We'd run out of things to talk about very quickly if that's all we tried for.

We have magicians, in my world. Wizards, and witches, too. And those who can use technology to enhance their own abilities. My people work a bit differently, but we've always considered ourselves closer to the scientific route. It's genetic, more than anything.

( He makes a little face at witches, but it's only brief. More to do with how witches have been received than what they are, something faintly concerned in it, but he spares her the drawn out vent via post-it. )

Scientists at home really don't like the idea of magic, I think it freaks them out. They're trying to find genetic components, a scientific basis, and then some people think it's religious.

( As jots down the notes and shows her, his gestures suggest weighing up both option, before he just gives a silent sigh, opening his hands to the sky in a what can you do? sort of gesture. )

I like the mystery. "Magic" feels right.

I know one or two like that, I think. _{( And she smiles, fondly, because she’s admired Reed Richards since she was a young girl, but still thinks he can be stupidly silly about some things. Especially where perceptions of the supernatural are concerned. )}

It feels special, doesn’t it? But I know scientists who say magic is just science they haven’t figured out, yet. Rather presumptuous of them, really.

( A scoff, silent (of course), amusement written through his posture and his expression, even if he doesn't make a sound to indicate it. An eyeroll, and a hopeless shrug, a sort of oh, scientists. Those poor, silly people. Affectionate teasing. )

They do some amazing stuff, but they can be kind of arrogant, too.

( Though he does pause, and give her a look. While I am so modest, it could say, with his golden armour and cocky attitude.

After a moment, he points to a place, squinting to try and see if it's the right name. That one? )

I suppose that comes with the territory.

_{( Tony, Reed… maybe not Hank, but even he had his boughts of overconfidence. The Inhumans even took Randac’s name as an invocation, so maybe they brought that on themselves. The arrogance of scientists.

She turns into the tavern, nodding. )}

One and the same.

( He would have a few things to say about Asteria, right now, but there's no good to be had in opening the can of worms that is Adonis' sister, right now. Not when this situation was so new, that situation so complicated, and him just trying to function. Instead, he redirects it back to Crystal's powers, and away from science. )

Is water your specialty?

( At her words, Atlas grins. Well then, allow him to open the door with a flourish, bowing his head for some extra dramatics )

_{( She smiles, very readily, when he holds open the door. She may be a princess, and used to chivalry, but she does so appreciate it anyhow. She enters the tavern in front of him, leads to a smaller table--not the bar, because she's a proper lady who needs a proper place to sit. )}

Hm, I wonder. When I was a child, I relied on wind the most. It was easiest--the one I first connected to. But now I think I control them all--fire, earth, water, wind--in equal measure. Most of the time I don't think of it, even. Whichever one suits just happens.

( And Atlas will just slide into the seat opposite her. Crystal already had Atlas attention, but he can't help looking at her sharply when she says she can control the wind, that she can control them all, and if he were Adonis right now he doesn't know what he'd look like - possibly he'd just disappear, because there's something painful about it. To be in a new world, and immediately faced with someone who can use the magic that he's meant to be able to master, but just struggles with.

A moment skips by, and he glances down at his hands, taking his post-its up again as he writes, )

Fire: Good
Earth: Good
Water: Not really
Air:

( Tapping at the note, and then pointing to his own chest. With the first two, he is able to tap them and give a thumbs up, the third gets a bit of an so-so gesture with his hand wavering in the air. And for the last, he shrugs. Air. Sometimes if he wondered if he couldn't control the air because he couldn't control his own voice, or vice versa. Adonis was pathetic, though - Atlas doesn't need to let that sink into his thoughts, right now. )

_{( Crystal tilts her head, nods with each gesture to tell him she's understood. Then she pauses, considering things for a moment. )}

For me, it was always about feeling. When I was startled--scared--the wind would protect me. Or I'd use it to push people away.

Fire was the same way, but with anger.

Do your powers work like that? Or is it something else?

( He has to stop and think about it, nods-- tentatively, chewing at his lip like he's really not that sure, changing his mind and shaking his head slowly. The first time he realised he had magic was when he'd been so angry he'd lost control, launched himself at the man who hurt his sister and kept punching him until his sisters dragged him off. The way his skin had burned, he didn't know how his sisters didn't notice when they pulled him off the guy.

Atlas takes a long time to think before he starts to write, long enough that someone comes to take their order and he points out to the biggest, meatiest sounding thing on there, before looking at Crystal to see what she'd like. Only when that's done, does he finish what he's jotting down and show her. )

Fire and earth make sense, like they're part of me. They're comforting. Air and water are cold.

( He's not good at expressing things verbally, and suddenly he wonders if Max would be angry, if he should be talking about this with a stranger. Barely here a day and trusting someone new with information about his magic, but if she had the same kind, she might be able to help him more than the people who had talents in training but who didn't know elemental magic. )

They're all a part of me, but only fire and earth make sense.

_{( Crystal orders whatever has the most produce in it, which ends up being a watery vegetable soup. It’s something she has to be careful of, though she doesn’t advertise the fact—the pollution and decay here are wreaking havoc on her system in a way she hasn’t experienced since her first days on earth. Still, she manages it as well as she cans, smiles with charm at the waitress before turning her full attention back to Atlas. )}

It sounds to me that you just don’t understand the others yet, at least not as well as you need to. It might just be a matter of unlocking whatever it is about them that doesn’t make sense.

( That isn't too much of a revelation, Max has told him before to be patient, that it doesn't matter if he doesn't ever work out the air, but it feels like a blow each time. At least Atlas is better at concealing it than Adonis. )

It's like fumbling for a key in the dark. Not so much a needle in a haystack as a needle in a big pile of other needles.

( Atlas offers her a grin, and a lighthearted shrug, as if it didn't matter and didn't consume his time worrying about this. )

Fire is the flashiest, that's all that matters, right?

( Oh, Atlas. You card. )

_{( Crystal laughs behind a hand. )}

Style over substance?

( Well. He taps the golden armour at his shoulders, the golden part of his mask, and shrugs. )

It's like magical plumage, I guess. The most impressive display attracts a mate.

( A beat, before he continues, )

That would explain all the ridiculous costumes capes wear, in my world.

_{( Crystal can't help but burst out laughing. It's a little mean, but she buries her face in her hands and tries to hide it even as the tears form in the corners of her eyes. )}

Oh, Randac, if you could meet Johnny..

( A uh. He recognises that tone. Adonis' sisters have used that tone, although never directed at him, mind you. )

Johnny is awesome, right?

( RIGHT? )

He's... very proud of his superhero plumage.

( Oh, yikes. He's making a face. )

Sounds like a blast.

( His expression says he's not sure if he means that or if actually he's dreading it on Crystal's behalf. )

_{( Crys just shakes her head and smiles, like someone caught in a memory. )}

He's... a person I'm very glad to have met, all told.