exsiliumlogs | (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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Apologetically: ] Not intentionally. Sometimes their machinery sends you back by chance, but it can't be counted on. From the sound of it, the only way we can intentionally go home is to win their war for them.

I will not fight their war for them. [ her tone hardens, but still sounds a bit tired; clearly this is something she has been saying for a while now. ] If they try to force me, they will see what happens to those who cross me.

[ drogon trills gleefully at the threat. ashraf can probably make a guess as to what she means. ]

[ He glances down at the creature, and, yeah, the meaning is clear. But he also hears that weariness. ]

They won't force you. But they will ask you to. And, well... only you can decide if your help is needed badly enough to give it, but they've stated a pretty convincing case for me.

[ she gives a harsh, impatient sigh. ] If what that woman said was true, perhaps they do need as much help as they can find.

But I have never seen a place like this. If this "United Earth" is as formidable as they sound... [ she trails off. dany can barely even figure out this communication device they gave her. surely they could have chosen someone who'd be more in their element here, at least? ]

It is as formidable as they sound. [ That comes gravely. He saw them dudes in that other world, he knows exactly how little of a chance they stand against them. ] Which is why they need all the help they can get. Besides...

[ He darts a glance down at the dragons, cocking a brow. ]

It looks like you have them pretty well under control. I have to think that'd make you pretty useful to a group looking for fighters.

[ Her gaze follows to the dragons and she can't help but smirk--they are her children, but even she unquestionably means to use them in conquest. She's already begun. ]

I cannot fight on my own. And for now, at least, they listen only to me.

[ She turns back to face the man, and stands up straighter. ] And why did they bring you here, my lord?

Well... [ He straightens as well, though it's just as unconscious as the pride in his answer. ]

I'm a healer. A really good one. That's almost as useful as having dragons in a war.

A healer. [ Almost as useful, indeed. She's perfectly aware that healers, perhaps more than anyone, have the knowledge to harm as well as to help. ]

And what should I call you? My name is Daenerys Stormborn.

Ashraf Salib. A little less poetic than yours, but— [ An apologetic shrug. ] It's all I have.