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.

Threaded | Flat

[There's a tent here that's almost the size of a small store, set up for business like the surrounding stalls but large enough for several people to enter and linger a while. At its front, a few tables hold trays of cookies in a wide variety of flavors and shapes, each lovingly decorated with colorful frosting. A sign beside the cookies reads in handwritten block letters: FREE - TAKE WHAT YOU WANT. Inside the tent, clusters of chairs have been set up for ease of conversation.]

((GREETERS: start a new thread for your character! VISITORS: tag a specific person or tag the main thread if you're up for interacting with any random greeter!))

[Peeta looks rather odd. He's in a fitted, sheer blue jumpsuit that zips up the front, with a big belt covered in purple plastic. His skin has a faint green tint to it from the ointment they'd been using. He's also got some blood splattered on his jumpsuit. If one looks closely (since the jumpsuit covers it), they would notice that his right leg is thinner and not quite in the same shape as his other leg, thanks to the prosthetic leg.

He's looking around for a familiar face, but a friendly face would do. He looks pretty lost. His stomach growls, and he shivers. He needs to find a jacket and some food. But he's still so confused. He'll walk up to anyone standing around.]

Excuse me. Can you help me?

[Well as introductions go that was a blur. Once left abandoned in the courtyard he takes shelter under a covering, tense but hiding it under an easy smile. One hand on his hip, easy, the other loose at his side as he surveys the transports and the surroundings.]

[It seems surreal, like a dream.]

[And somehow all too real. The strangeness of the situation aside, politics aren't anything new in any world in any time, apparently. He sighs, lips pressing together in thought.]

[But open spaces aren't the place for woolgathering. So whether someone looks new and confused or experienced, he'll approach with an open smile.]

Hello there.

A:
[ Ashraf has been one of the lucky ones to escape the eye of the Initiative medics. And so it is that a blood-spattered, tattered looking tall guy, clutching his side and looking a little dazed, comes to a stop against one of the hallway walls as the group is being escorted along. There's a wide, spreading dark spot against those richly embroidered robes — it's going to stain for sure.

He sighs, sliding to a seat at the base of the wall. There's a faint memory associated with here he is right now, but more importantly — as nothing as attacked him yet, it's a safe place to regain a little energy. For, y'know, this mere fleshwound, here. ]

B:
[ And here's the same guy a while later, miraculously healed, but still with some impressively bloodstained and torn robes on. Dang, what a wipeout that must have been.

He's smiling as he looks around, growing gladder as more and more memories of this place return to him. There, that soggy and rainy corner, there — he's pretty sure that's where he met... someone he'd been fond of. He can't remember exactly who at the moment, but he's sure it will come to him shortly. ]

[ Not too far from where the new arrivals flood in, there's a cafe that stands out amongst the relatively dreary surrounds, almost to the point of being tacky — it takes a certain type of person to go for a beach theme in a place like Exsilium. The owner of said cafe, one (1) Snow Villiers, can usually be found serving drinks behind the bar, but once people start turning up, he makes an effort to periodically go outside and chat to the newcomers too. ]

Looks like the guys in charge are at it again. Never a dull moment, huh?

[ He'd be lying if he said he wasn't hoping to see a few specific people in the crowd, but he's just as excited to greet friends or strangers. Any obviously lost people who wander in will have Snow himself offering them a bite to eat, free of charge. He knows what it's like to be in their situation. ]

[ ever since he started to busy his schedule up a bit more, riku has been attending these newcomer briefings less and less. this time, however, he's decided to attend; might as well, really, especially when he's interested about all the different worlds that're brought to the dilapidated city. while he doesn't expect to see any new faces--let's face it, he's pretty much expecting to be alone with axel for a long period of time--he's intent on seeing any displays of magic or any extraordinary persons in particular.

he walks around, tries to help anyone who looks excessively lost, and with a bag in hand, every now and then he either offers to buy someone lunch, offers a bottle of cold, clean water, or offers some bread--that looks and feels and smells fresh. when he offers to buy lunch, however, he's much more likely to go to the cafe he works at. it's more than likely that the newcomer'll have him coming out to give him his food, as well.

other times, he'll just escort the newcomer anywhere they have questions. well, except the badlands. ]

[There was a cold emptiness inside of her as she stood there out in the rain. There wasn't a single hair on her head to help direct the drops away from her face, but Kriem didn't care. She had died in a hope to be reunited with Jake but that hadn't happened. The NEXT was instead staring out at the desolate city stretching out in front of her.]

...Jake-sama...

[Her words could barely be heard as she stood there still dressed in her hospital gown. The pads of where each lead had been placed were still stuck to her arms and chest, and the cold wind caused goosepimples to ripple over her flesh. None of it mattered to her though.

Was this her punishment? Was this her hell? All she had wanted was to be reunited with Jake but the world seemed to have played yet another cruel joke on her. What was she supposed to do now? Not even death could reunite her with him. The heroes had cruelly taken him from her... they had destroyed one so beautiful for the sake of some petty revenge against a crime Master Jake had never committed. That thought caused her throat to constrict as emotion suddenly overwhelmed her. Knees buckling, Kriem had to catch herself with a hand on the wall to stop her from collapsing to the floor. Her fingers clutched around the black bowler hat clutched to her chest. Kriem's grip so tight that she appeared to be clinging to it like a lifeline. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Determination flamed with her anger and she stared at the city.

If this death couldn't reunite her with Master Jake, then maybe her next one would? Kriem watched with an almost bitter air while everyone went about their business in the marketplace.

She hoped revenge boy continued to live with the torment she had left him with. It wasn't much but it had been all that she could have done as payback for their crimes. She hated them, hated him for taking Jake away, and Kriem felt that hatred beginning to seep through her body for the first time.

Her strength gathered enough to push her off the wall. Taking a few unsteady steps at first, Kriem held herself high soon enough just as Master Jake would want her to. She needed to find a way to be reunited with him, and she wouldn't let anything stop her this time.]

[ It's a lot to take in, to say the least. And for a brief moment, Merida is nothing but stunned. In a short number of minutes, she'd been ripped from her home, thrown into some strange new world, given a pad-like object she has no frame of reference for, and told she couldn't leave. Beyond that fact, nearly everything else had gone in one ear and out the other. She refused to accept that. Of course she could go home. Of course she could - she had to. She didn't want to be here, in this strange, foreign world.

At least she had her bow and quiver full of arrows. They offered her a modicum of reassurance, and that was worth something.

Regardless of her panic, she knows she can't just stay there, frozen. So she looks around for familiar faces. That greeter said something about her world being invaded. Surely that meant it was possible someone she knew was here, too. She could handle herself, of course, but there was strength in numbers.

Once her panic has subdued and she's a bit more resigned, she heads toward the market stalls to get something to eat. She had this money they'd given her, and she was hungry. She scans the booths, looking for something that looked appetizing. ]

( The only option had been to get more clothes. He was too conspicuous as Atlas, but Donny was practically part of the wallpaper anyway. It'd be easier to take a look around, to figure out his surrounding on the ground level without the mask and the body armour. Once that particular mission is accomplished, though – thank God these Initiative guys gave you some currency – he's got Atlas crammed into a backpack along with some extra clothes.

The clothes were hardly the major concern, though. How could they be? It was fixed, and easy: disappear into a ramshackle building with no witnesses, and emerge as just Donny. (Easiest and worst transition of his life, generally speaking.) What is he going to do without Max? And she couldn't be stuck back home alone, not with Asteria running wild. All of this seemed too bizarre even for Asteria's machinations, and there's no way she'd have granted him the mercy of arriving as Atlas. Was there? How far would she go? But--

A: whomp. He's so caught in his thoughts that he walks into someone.

B: The poor guy is hungry, and might just-- eye some of the stands, or wander past a cafe, and he can't quite settle on what to do. But that one thing he's looking at surely can't be actual food, right? Something with that much grease is probably a poor idea. Especially when you need to be running along rooftops.

C: Wildcard?

D: Or they could have stumbled into him before he finds somewhere to get clothes. For all your silent superhero needs! Eyemasks and black and red Ancient Greek themed outfit is go. )

[His white with black stripped fur coat hadn't fully dried out from the place he had previously been in, but he had never minded the rain before. If rain was hitting his head and soaking his two-toned hair, it meant he was a free man. He was just getting to like his freedom again after all, even if this entire situation was crowded with foreign feeling minds and their confusion annoyed him as it pressed in on him.

He didn't like it. Of course, Jake didn't particularly like a lot of things. This entire situation was starting to be one of them. It was an atomic wasteland, and he was apparently going to be joining a war (yeah right) for some cockroaches who couldn't even use all those stupid stocks of weapons to fight back? It seemed pathetic and lame, and he would much prefer to have his contacts in Ouroboros instead.

Of course, he would have liked to have Kriem around as well. Where was that woman when he needed her anyway? He didn't worry though; Kriem could handle herself just fine. He had taught her after all.

Shuffling his shoulders in his big fluffy coat, he arranged the collar even higher on his neck, if that was at all possible. Rain poured lines down his face and bare chest, but he paid little attention to that. Instead, he looked around him in disgust at the courtyard he was standing in.]

Squealing like little pigs.

[Lifting a hand, he began to chew almost mindlessly on a thumbnail, eyeing whoever came in his range of sight or even attention. He looked down on all that he could.]

[The first thing she does is change her face, not wanting to run the risk of there being anyone from her world that might recognize her, even if she's still having trouble wrapping her head around the whole other universe thing. Magic is one thing, interdimensional travel is not, but she can cope, and at least she has Maurice, who mostly seems interested in exploring this strange new place.

The clothes she's wearing don't really suit "Wendy", so the second thing she does is buy a raincoat from one of the stall, pulling it on to hide her leather jacket and the holster underneath that, making a note to find some more suitable clothing soon.

For now, she's going to join Maurice in his exploration, though she does it with significantly less enthusiasm. She buries her annoyance at the situation, keeping her expression neutral-bordering-on-concern, looking like someone trying very hard not to freak out, because there's no point looking too overwhelmed. It generally inspires kindness without condescension when people see someone scared but trying to act brave anyway, and that's something she can use right now. Without any of her connections and resources back home, she's going to need to make new ones.

Which is why she's wandering around the marketplace, looking at stalls but not seeming to have the courage to actually approach them, though it's made a little difficult by Maurice bounding up to every new person that he sees.

Maybe "a leash" should've been first on her list.]

[The air smells foul here, foul and the atmosphere claustrophobic. Ziio could swear she feels the layers of grime and dust coating her skin from the very atmosphere itself and it does nothing to set her mind at ease.

Even the settlers' growing towns pale in comparison to this... mess.

Her head is cloudy and pounding, she can't fully remember what has happened or why she's here. She remembers being angry, taking a weapon- and the hatchet in her hand seems to affirm this- and then there had been a sharp prick in her arm and then nothing, except being shepherded groggily through a series of corridors and paths that look like nothing she's ever seen before with people dressed in ways she's never seen before, and now she's outside. She's ill at ease, wishing to see a tree or a blade of grass or something alive in this wreck of a place, anything that makes the Earth seem less dead. Despite everything she remembers, vaguely, being told, that this is Britain, that this is the future- and that in itself seems absurd to her- she remains thoroughly unimpressed by what used to be London. Haytham had always sung its praises so highly, and now it seems to be nothing less than an arid wasteland of strange shells of buildings made of crumbling mortar and brick and broken glass.

Although it would be smarter to perhaps have her hatchet on display, she has it tucked beneath the folds of her deerskin dress as she roams the streets, trying to find a way out and back. She can't attack anyone yet, she feels unsure on her feet, her stomach feels unsettled and she has the occasional wave of nausea, but there is nowhere for her to stop and compose herself. That is her first order of business, find a place to regroup and recover before she makes a move. In her confused state, there is one thing she focuses on sharply, one thing she knows for certain is very wrong, and she has to urgently correct it.

She has to find what's happened to her son, and if he has been taken here, been brought to this wretched place as a slave, then whatever gods these men pray to had better grant them mercy for they shall receive none from her.
She will believe escape impossible when she is able to prove it with her own eyes, but for now, she has a four year old son and answers to find and she will not be dissuaded from her goal, no matter what her 'captors' say.

Kaniehtí:io will be no man's slave.]

[Kirian frowns, walking through the rainy streets, carrying a black cat in his right arm, against his chest. She looked rather distressed at the rain, and he wrapped his outer robe around her as best his could.

What a bother. This was not his home in the least, and he couldn't say he much appreciated being taken here and dropped into a war her had no care for. He hardly had any desire for the wars back home.

From one cage, to another.

The cat let out a plaintive cry, and he sighed.]

I know you've no care for the rain, nor do I.

[Still his tone was almost kind, rarely that he would speak to any human like that.

He came to a corner and turned, cursing that his robes were getting soaked, and his boots, too. He would have to enchant his other closes the resist the rain- and the thought of having to wear the ornate robes made from frown.

No, he would simply have to let these dry and enchant them. That would be for the best.]

Edited 2013-05-03 12:18 (UTC)

Her bare feet were muddied and cold from the constant rain, the hospital gown she wore remained mostly dry thanks to the jacket Jesse lent her, but she was soaked to the bone everywhere else. It didn't matter to Kriem. She'd been given the infectious spark of hope that Jake might actually be here in this world. All she had to do was to continue searching for him in the market place. It wasn't that hard to do...

...except it was when her weakened body was still protesting so much movement.

Kriem felt out of breath when she came up to the edge of one of the many market stalls. A hand clutched tightly at her chest while she leaned against the edge of the stall. Her body was almost completely frozen from the cold, and her sight was beginning to blur, but she couldn't let herself give up. She had to know if he was here, if he was alive. That was all that was important to the NEXT. It was just getting difficult when her body was doing everything it could to prevent her search.

[Could this be any weirder? If she didn't know any better, she's sure she'd think she'd somehow landed herself in the plot of one of her dramas... and one of the weird ones, at that. Scratch that. Momo still isn't entirely sure this isn't exactly what's happened.

She shakes her head quickly, squaring her shoulders. No, no, no! This is no time for that kind of thoughts!

Carefully adjusting the hoodie obscuring her face-- there are a lot of people here, after all, and this hardly seems like a good time to end up the center of attention-- she soon finds temporary shelter from the rain... and promptly huffs out a breath.]

Ahhh, my clothes!

[She shakes out her clothes some, mindless of anyone who might be be nearby. Now isn't this just great]

Edited 2013-05-04 03:54 (UTC)

a
[It would be nice if the Initiative was nice enough to give out ponchos or umbrellas, but fate deems that that is not to be. So today, in the courtyard, there is one teenage boy walking around with... a white rabbit in his arms, wrapped in his red jacket to keep it warm and dry. He also seems to be carrying a half-empty bottle of Coca Cola. He's wandering about, looking around at his surroundings but not really looking at where he's headed, so every once in a while he bumps shoulders with someone that's going in the opposite direction. He backs away every time with a flinch and a "s-sorry!" before scurrying away to avoid any fights. Will you stop him?]

b
[The teenager has made his way to the marketplace! Here it's much more crowded than the courtyard, so he holds his rabbit closer as he peers at store after store, trying to find a place where they sell umbrellas or maybe some food for himself and the rabbit. He hasn't had dinner yet, but he has that money in his pocket. But it's taking too long to find the right stores, so he turns to whoever is nearby and doesn't look like they're going to punch his face in, nervously asking--]

Excuse me, um... is there anywhere I can find food for pets...?

c
[Maybe you dont' want to find him at the courtyard or marketplace! Maybe you already met him in the test drive so it's too much work to introduce each other again. For you, Shintaro can be found with umbrella and rabbit food acquired, probably walking next to you because if you managed to have a conversation with him already, then you've convinced him that you're not going to beat him up or kill him (just yet). He's not asking about the war or the missions; he already got the tour. What he is thinking about, though, is dinner. He's a little hungry.]

So... what sort of things do they have around here?

Maximus felt like he was drowning from information overload, but he didn't let himself be swept up by the tide of humanity. Beside the entrance to the courtyard stood a tall, muscular man with a face that would have been rather handsome were it not for a number of small scars and a nose that looked like it had been broken several times before. He wore metal armor that looks straight out of a historical film about the Roman Empire, along with a heavy backpack on his back, a tall, rectangular shield slung over one shoulder, and a pair of swords (one rather short, one rather long) on his hips.

He was using his size to both stand at rest despite the crowd of people bouncing off of him and to see over most of the people around him and get in a good view of the crowd as a whole. Better to get an idea of what was going on than to just let the tide take him where it would.

[ Amidst the gangly crowd of new recruits is a girl in a simple white shift with redgold hair and a small speck of light carried in her hands. The girl does not seem to find anything strange in that. In fact, she is moving around the hold with seeming purpose and intensity.

Then she stops, turns, and begins walking up to a complete stranger. ]

You. [ She says, stopping. ] Yes, you!

[ She's very expectant, you know. ]

[ After what she had considered to be an informative, if only extremely bizarre talk, Ella had decided to take a little walk, partly to get her bearings and partly to see if she could figure where she was supposed to be living. She knew it had to be somewhere, but now the girl was starting to hope she had asked for a map of sorts. The idea of checking the tablet thingy she had been given didn't cross her mind just yet; with so many people around, it was probably for the best to just wander and look relatively lost. Things usually developed themselves from that point naturally, right?

Ella might have been reading too many Young Adult novels while being in hiding, but there she was, looking calm, yet obviously out of place.

Halp? ]

[Cyril may not be so quick to start chatting up fellow transports, but he is paying rapt attention to both the things the greeters say and the exchanges and interactions going on around him. Dressed in the fashion of the 19th Century, his apparel is clearly well tailored with an air of expense.

Which is clearly why he's neglecting to really touch anything or anyone.

Including, most likely, you.]

[ Cold, wet, hungry. He can't help but wonder how many ways his day got get utterly worse. The coat he managed to scrounge comes close, not their fault really guess they never had to accommodate someone of his size- or species. But it keeps the rain from pooling in his armor (sort of) so it is more than he could ask for.

Still, as far as bad days go? This one is ranking pretty high up there.

Arms crossed with the dark raincoat practically flung over his head (any hope of actually wearing it was lost pretty quickly) he watches, waiting, trying to get a feel for the place outside of the handbook explanation. ]

[Bette Kane cuts an interesting, shivering picture, her bright blue eyes darting around from behind cheerful yellow goggles as she takes in her surroundings. Her arms are crossed in front of her, and she wishes that she hadn't taken off her entire trenchcoat before revealing her costume to Kate back home. Maybe then she'd still have it on her and be protected by the rain. Still, never one to sit in one place and wait around (except for once, long ago, when the Teen Titans had been getting back together and Bette had really expected an invite), Bette was exploring, her hand clutching her new tablet almost as though it was a rolled up newspaper.

This is pretty interesting, though. The tablet. Neither Kord Industries or WayneTech has produced something this advanced. Which, right there, told Bette a lot about the world that she'd been brought into.

Oddly enough, though, there's no worry on Bette's face. Some apprehension, maybe, mixed in with a sort of anxious excitement. She's looking around to see if there's any familiar faces, or even friendly faces.

Anyone who might be able to help her, mostly. Anyone with whom she may be able to connect. She was somewhat lonely back home, and she's already decided that she won't have a similar fate here.]

Edited 2013-05-06 00:40 (UTC)

[Jaime isn't exactly a stranger to the idea of alternate worlds. He's been to other worlds... or the one world, at least. He knows they exist as abstractly as he knows that there are wars going on on the other side of the world, which is to say, when they do exist it's the sort of thing he expects the really big guns to take care of.

He can't say that he ever expected to be hauled off to one himself but, well, story of his life. It's not that Jaime hadn't listened carefully to the spiel that he had been given upon his arrival, but seeing the streets themselves is still something of a shock. As he wanders the streets, he reaches out to skim one hand against one of the starkly colourless, utilitarian buildings only to tuck his hands underneath his armpits again, hunching his shoulders against the rain.]

If this weather holds up, I'm gonna need some new clothes, [he mutters to himself - hint hint, Scarab, that's kind of your field of expertise - and slows to a standstill to get a better handle on his environment. When this doesn't elucidate matters for him, he rummages around in his pocket until he produces the tablet he'd been given and tries his best to shield it from the rain with his body.]

Okay, [he says out loud, half because it helps him think, half because he'd really like some more intel from the scarab right about now.] First off, a map. [He glides his fingers against its screen, frowning.] Is there even a map on this thing?

[well, this is certainly overwhelming. Artie holds the handles of his doctor's bag with both hands, and shuffles through the melee ...

... and then he spots the cookies.]

Now this is a proper welcome.

[he smiles a little to himself and lets go with one hand so he can scoop up a cookie. feel free to come up, say hi, and catch him with his mouth full.]

[be safe. Kirika isn't sure if that was directed at her, or if she had imagined it in the first place, but either way, a wry smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

Moving toward the nearest available roof to take cover under, she glances up at the gloom in the sky, and wonders inwardly whether the rain will let up any time soon]

a. [what with not looking where she is going, she realizes just a little too late that she will be colliding with somebody right about -- now...ouch]

Sorry about that. You okay?

b. [shelter located, she finds a dry spot and takes off her shoes, pouring out a steady trickle of water. Her feet and socks are still soaked, though. This is what happens when you forgo dressing for utility in favour of dying fashionably.

~~fa...shion... hahahahah~~

The puddle forming thanks to her shoes is getting a pretty baleful look]

To go or not to go...to go or not to go...

[idk, does talking to someone muttering under her breath really seem like a good idea]

c. [after chatting with some folks and getting the lowdown on what this all is about, Kirika returns to the edge of the crowd, circling it idly and people-watching. At every stairwell she passes, she pauses for a moment, trying to see how high up the building the stairs belong to go.

Tall places are where it's at, okay]

d. [another scenario of your choice?]

Threaded | Flat

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