(no subject)

[initiates]

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.

Comments

/touches lovingly

[scinlae]

[ It is difficult to resist rolling her eyes, so she does not shaking her head as she does so. ]

Jesters are always the first to die.

[ Stop looking like a smug douche. A hand goes out to lightly touch his skin. ]

You will count yourself among them if you do not gain healed.

[highhealplz]

[ He regards the hand with some suspicion, but... here's to hoping that if she's here to kill him, she would have gotten started already. So he only tips his head back against the wall, teeth gritted behind pressed lips.

This whole part where he waits for his energy to replenish, so he can heal himself from near death? He forgot how much it hurts. ]

Are there any healers around?

[scinlae]

There may be. [ Lucky she does not wish him dead, or else he would no longer be breathing. Her head tilts as she looks upon him. ]

Show me the wound.

[highhealplz]

Which one?

[ He laughs, even if it comes out strained and painful. But he's shifting, pulling open the wide neck of his robes, showing off a mass of blood and torn flesh. The largest gash seems to be across his ribs on the right side. ]

[scinlae]

[ She almost regrets asking by the look on his wounds. Had they water and cloth she would seek to clean it first, but the bleeding must be stopped. It will drain her, she knows. ]

Do not move. [ Whatever softness may have been in her voice before vanishes as she shifts to steady herself, hands moving to rest on the worst wound. The words that leave her mouth are old and strange, but the thickness to them is unmistakeable. There is power in her words, her voice.

Skin knits together slowly, it will be with pain, like a fire burning beneath flesh. She heals only the most worst of his wounds, closing them so he does not bleed out on the floor, before it becomes too much for her. ]

There. [ Though she does her best to hide it, the strain seeps through in her voice and her face. ] You will live for a while yet, at least.

[highhealplz]

[ He grits his teeth against this new pain, but he's more startled by the fact that it hurts at all. It's nothing like his own healing magic. But that it is healing magic is plain enough, and he appreciates that. So is the toll it takes on her, for which he doesn't fail to feel some guilt. ]

Thank you. [ One bloody hand lifts to gently touch her cheek, and his smile is warm. His hand drops again quickly. ] I hate to ask more, but -- could you help me stand?

[scinlae]

[ This is a gamble and a steep one at that. She may have healed a man who will be of no use to her, or a man whose uses go beyond count.

Nevertheless it does not fail to annoy her, the tool it takes on her. She will be weak for a few days, weak and vulnerable to her enemies. Her gamble best pay off.

She barely moves at the touch, but she notices it certainly, the blood stain left behind on pale skin. ]

I did not heal you only to have you trampled by foolish feet. [ Her fingers tremble but she takes his arm, pulling it over her shoulders and shifting some of his weight onto her. ]

[highhealplz]

[ He leans as much weight on her as he dares, lending the rest of it to the wall behind him. He takes a breath when he's standing fully upright. Time to own up.

He waves a hand, and instantly a cool green light washes over him. The rest of his wounds begin to knit together, but it takes two more heals before they're completely gone. But then they are completely gone, without even a scar or a spot of blood to speak for where they'd been. —Aside from the robes, of course. Those are still pretty bloody.

He finally stands on his own then, pulling his robes shut again with a sheepish smile. ]

[scinlae]

[ ARE YOU KIDDING HER?

ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FUCKING KIDDING HER?

OH MY GOD.

It is not hard to tell how livid she is at this display, in fact it is practically written all over her face. Her efforts, for all intents and purposes, were useless. She had just wasted energy on a man quiet capable of healing himself.

All pretense falls in favor of her anger, that soft and kind mask she had tried to portray dissolving into nothing. ]

You-

[ She could kill him for this and she is so furious that she honestly considers it for one short yet sweet moment. ]

[highhealplz]

[ Oooh, yeah, he can feel that anger. The guilty dog look ramps up just a little more steeply, and he has both hands up and pacifying in a second. ]

I know, I know — but until just now, I was too weak to do it myself. [ He tries a smile. ] You eased my suffering, and I'm grateful for that. I'm in your debt.

[scinlae]

[ It does little to calm her, if anything it makes things worse.

Oddly she is more angry at how effortless it seemed for him than she is about him never mentioning it.

Nevertheless angry she still is and it does not aid her ability to stand upright, she sways blindly reaching out for the wall. He could not do it himself? She laughs bitterly, thoughts racing around like a pack of wolves.

How does she know he speaks the truth? For all she knows he could have been capable all this time, and made her waste all her energy to close his wounds. ]

In my debt? [ Her gaze is cold and sharp. ] Yes, you are.

[highhealplz]

Good, then we're in agreement. [ The smile he aims at her is perfectly winning. ] I'm Ashraf Salib, a high priest.

[ And that said, he waves a hand toward her, just as he had toward himself. That sway hasn't gone at all unnoticed. First comes the soothing green light, bathing Morgana just has it had him. It's less effective without actual wounds to heal, but it's still calming and refreshing. Next is a more involved spell, which takes him a few seconds. But eventually light shines down from somewhere above, gathers itself briefly into the angelic form of a woman, plays over them both, and disappears again. This one is a less obvious affect, intended only to help the regeneration of energy. ]

Again, sorry. I hope I can make it up.

[scinlae]

I-

[ She bristles like an angry cat, suspicious of the green light despite it's soothing proprieties. His spells are effective, as much as she is loathed to admit, already she feels better than she did moments before. Nevertheless she cannot help but feel indignant, her frustrated anger at how easily he is able to pull off such spells pooling in her stomach. ]

Morgana. My name is Morgana.

[highhealplz]

It's nice to meet you, Morgana. [ He'd offer a hand to shake, but she doesn't really seem like someone that would appreciate it. So instead he glances around, interested for the first time in his surroundings. ]

This is... Exsilium, isn't it?

[scinlae]

It is. [ The bitterness and contempt are clear in her voice, she loathes that she is still here. ]

You recognize it as if you have been here before.

[highhealplz]

[ Good thing he's a pro at ignoring a cranky lady that needs a nap! Instead he nods, thoughtful, as he looks. ]

I have. A really long time ago.

[ There's a few people whose faces he's trying to remember, though they keep escaping him, and he frowns with the effort of it. ]