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(no subject)

Date: June 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings. Now with 200% more People-Seeking lists!
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. Now and then around you you might spot paper fluttering in the faint wind from somewhere relatively dry. It looks like a list.

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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... ... That's it?

[He knew it. He's pushy. He should get out of this right now or else this is going to suck.]

That and . . . [Christopher has that strange, gentle, airheaded smile. It stays there.] To tell the truth, you looked like someone who doesn't have interest in the world.

... Huh?

[He's not sure if it's really the rain, or he's confused by the guy's smile, or the strange answer. But there's a small chill down his spine, and all thoughts on getting out and away are pushed away as he turns all his attention to Christopher.]

W-what do you mean?

Sorry, was I wrong?

[The smile persists. And Christopher, unperturbed, continues.]

You seem like a person who feels like there's nothing in this world that interests you. Maybe there are one or two things that you're attached to, but . . . I thought, 'Ah, that person won't acknowledge this world.'

That was my impression, at least.

[What's with this guy, he wonders, disturbed. Shintaro considered himself fairly interested -- he'd watched the network, he'd talked to people, he'd stepped in to go on a mission even though it ended disastrously. Even back home...

Something cold seems to wrap its fingers around his heart and squeeze, as he tries to think about what Christopher said. So he stops, pushing all of it away, choosing to brush off the words. The hand stops and disappears, leaving behind only a lingering chill. He's suddenly glad to be wet from the rain because he's sure there is some cold sweat on his brow. He doesn't tease Christopher, though. Doesn't insult his abilities to read people. He's not sure if Christopher was wrong, and besides -- teasing meant letting him step in further, and stepping in, himself.]

I'm not sure what you're talking about... but I'm sure that's not true?

[Christopher doesn't seem bothered by the denial.] Ah, that must be my mistake. You have my sincere apologies. [And he bows to Shintaro again, this time in some semblance of contrition.]

... You don't have to apologize.

So, do you know what room you're at?

506. [He shows the key.]

[Dammit.]

... I'll show you where it is if you don't have anywhere else to go.

I'd appreciate that very much, Shintaro. [Respectfully using the full name. He's going to be in Shintaro's good books now!]

[No you're not. Sigh. Why couldn't you have been on another floor. Shintaro absolutely does not mention his own room number as he starts walking toward the housing building.]

[Christopher follows along, humming.]

[He tries to ignore the guy the entire way there. He does feel a little rude, but he doesn't know if he's ready to risk Christopher going into a huge musical about anything he might try to explain, so he stays quiet, to the building and into the elevator and up to the fifth floor.]

... This is it. Um.

[Oh man. They have to pass 502 on the way. Didn't these rooms have plaques by the door with their names? Crap.]

[Maybe he doesn't notice? He is, after all, busy singing.]

How could you hate the rain
that waters all the land?
Do not hate the snow
that suffocates your house.

Look around, look around
at all of nature's beauty!
And sing to all the flowers
that would gladly see you die!

...

[Damn it.]

... You're not a singer, are you?

[Shintaro has like no musical education. The songs he hears are on Nico****douga.co.jp. Christopher's song sounds nothing like any of them but he has a feeling that the only reason it would get even a decent rating would be because it's not going to be sung in Japanese.]

Everyone is a singer in his or her heart.

[You're pulling that out of your ass Shintaro is so sure of it.

He walks quickly past down the hall to 506, pointedly not looking at the rooms across from it.]

Here we go.

Thank you, Shintaro. [He unlocks the door.]

[He almost sighs in relief! He backs up from the door to let Christopher have some space as he goes inside.]

Uh... I guess if you have anything you need help with, you can reach me on the tablet.

[Christopher glances back at Shintaro.

And smiles.]

All right.

[He feels a bit of a chill.]

... Take care.

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