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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

[ Not quite as far back as the Middle Ages! Late Renaissance is not much better, though, unless you happened to be best friends with certain inventors. She...was not.

And her attempt to keep it simple is admirable, but Anne won't suffer that. ]

I had heard, but merely dismissed such a notion. How is this possible?

[Sue might know that, but apparently her player doesn't, oops.

She's not surprised at the question, but purses her lips for a second as she thinks.]

It's a very sophisticated machine. Judging by your dress--and it's lovely, by the way--your...people [she narrowly avoids saying "universe"] won't know how to create something like it for hundreds of years.

[She's so busy trying to simplify the concept of electronics, she misses that she's just tangentially introduced time travel into the conversation.]

[ The compliment to her dress is ignored, though she always does take pride in her own fashion, she's actually trying to pay close attention now that her daze is beginning to subside. ]

Machine. As in machina?

[ Lips pursed, Anne looks down to her book and tablet resting over it. ]

If this is made by the hands of a man, do you know how it works? How do others receive the messages if not by visible means?

Like...hmm...clockwork?

[They have that in the 1500s, right? Sue paid attention in class, but her adult life has been spent looking forward and pushing the boundaries of the possible. Without a textbook, she's better at history than your average person, but still doesn't have anything more than the best-known facts at the tip of her tongue.]

It...

[She trails off and thinks again. Her husband would object to the analogy she comes up with, but Reed would sit Anne down and try to explain electromagnetic theory from first principles. Under the circumstances, Sue feels justified in a bit of inaccuracy.]

Dogs can hear things and smell things people can't, yes? Sound that are too high or too soft, or scents that are too faint? It's much like that. The devices are...sensitive to energies we can't detect. They're not alive, but neither is a clock, and it keeps time without more than being wound occasionally.

[Lord, she hopes that's comprehensible.]

[ Somewhat! Not exactly the type people think of today, and not commonplace in her life, but she can still follow. It doesn't comfort her, though. ]

Energies we cannot detect... What you speak of sounds like magic. As in what brought me here. As in what cannot be trusted!

[Whoops, here comes the magic. Sue holds up a hand in a calming gesture. It's just godless science, she promises!]

I know it seems like that. But, bear with me a moment. You know some, ah...arithmetic, don't you?

[She's not sure "mathematics" is a word Anne would recognize.]

[ Anne doesn't take the question as an insult, since she is a mild rarity in her level of education. ]

Yes, of course.

[Sue types the numbers 0 through 9 into her tablet and holds it up for Anne to see.]

And you do it using these symbols?

[ Anne nods, though it takes her a moment of reluctance. She recognizes the arabic alphabet. The appearance is slightly different, but they're subtle differences. ]

[Sue's going somewhere with this. Trust her.]

Good. Now imagine trying to explain how to do arithmetic this way to, hmm...Julius Caesar. He was not a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination [and he's actually a time-traveling alien in Marvel I am not making this up but moving on] but he didn't know numbers, just the Roman system of numerals.

[She pauses to make sure Anne's following along.]

[ Her patience is wearing thin, though, lips pinched tightly together before she tries to speak again. ]

That would be on par with teaching one a new language, even less challenging, so I should easily learn if you are to compare.

[She doesn't mind. If Anne's annoyed with Sue, she's not focusing on her predicament.]

Oh, he'd certainly be able to learn, but he wouldn't be as good at it as you are for a long time, if ever. Most people never lose their foreign accents in new languages, after all.

[Sue's high school Spanish is embarrassing, really.]

But here's my point: when you first showed him, don't you think he'd find it uncanny how quickly you could do figures? Roman numerals are hard to use for arithmetic, and even the greatest of scholars went slowly and made mistakes. You're faster than the scribes whose job it was to calculate, but nothing about it is magical. You just know a better way than they did.

[And that's where she was going. Technology advances, and it's not sorcery. Just human ingenuity.]

All you are doing is explaining to me why you cannot explain this.

[ Another glance around, then back at the woman, and Anne sighs. She feels incredibly tired all of a sudden. ]

...Mayhap I request too much of you. Are there books that speak of the subject in the library?

[Oh well, she tried. And avoided Anne panicking, so that's got to count for something.]

I'm sure there's something. You might try looking under history of technology...or asking someone to help you find books on the subject.

[Since she's quite sure the Library of Congress or even Dewey Decimal system had not been invented at Anne's point in history.

But Sue realizes they've been standing out in the cold rain, from which her uniform protects her, while Anne's getting soaked, and she looks stricken. Maybe she was acting more like Reed than she thought.]

...Oh, for pity's sake. I've just been letting you stand here and freeze. Would you like to come to my apartment and warm up? I'll make you some tea and you can dry off.

[ Oh, right. She's freezing. Maybe that's why she feels so exhausted that she could just fall over. Or it's the shock wearing off. Or, you know, everything. The offer catches her off guard, but being dry is tempting. ]

You would open your door to a woman whose name you do not even know?

Edited 2013-06-09 02:46 (UTC)

[Well yes, but Sue half-smiles.]

You could tell me and take care of that problem. I'm Susan Richards.

[ Oh, well in that case, she offers a polite smile and nods, the curtsy so subtle it's barely there. ]

I am Anne Boleyn. I would graciously accept your offer, in the least until this rain passes.

[ Poor Anne, so clueless still. ]

[Her eyes get wide at the introduction. Wow, Your Majesty, you're looking very...capitated compared to the last time anyone saw you.]

Ah. Well, we can certainly get you an umbrella.

[She's on polite autopilot now, because Tudor royalty is one thing that's actually outside her experience. Secret African royalty from a hidden super-advanced kingdom? Underwater fish-person royalty? Alien royalty? Not a problem. Famously beheaded royalty from the past? That one's new.]

[ Yes thank you, she likes her little neck in one piece. The reaction that her name instills is impossible for Anne not to notice, but she catalogs that question for a later date. It could merely be a reaction to her family name, but she doesn't recognize this woman's. She can't even place her accent. ]

An umbrella?

Like a parasol, but waterproof to keep out the rain instead of the sun.

[Sue's not sure parasols existed at the time, either, but just showing Anne an umbrella is faster than trying to describe it.]

I'm on the ground floor, so we're close.

[Suite 101, in fact. Sue leads Anne to the residence building, freshly renovated after having a spaceship crash into it. Oops.]

Edited 2013-06-09 03:08 (UTC)

To protect from the rain? Well, I suppose if you have no cloaks to spare, I would be grateful for your umbrella.

[ She tries not to look disappointed, and is mostly successful. She might be much better with her courtly charms in a few days, but at least she isn't stubborn enough to resist, following as closely as she can without getting in arm's reach. One can never be too careful.

The structure of the building looks hideously plain, but at least it doesn't seem as dirty as so many other things. ]

You own this land yourself?

Cloaks aren't really the style where I'm from, but I'm sure someone will have something you'd feel comfortable in.

[Since Sue's roommates are both also comic book women who wear primary-colored catsuits everywhere, they're going to have to ask around a bit.]

Own it? No, it's the property of the Initiative. My family's land is in the New World.

[She manages not to smile, because while it's funny, she's not mocking Anne, just trying to avoid another long conversation.]

[ Oh maybe that explains the accent. She looks curious, but not enough to currently pursue the subject further. For now she is trying to play the polite guest, as though this woman is bizarre, she has offered Anne nothing but kindness.

Besides, where else is she supposed to go? ]

You are positive they laid no traps of any sort within?

[It sure does!]

Yes, unless it happened in the half-hour since I left. I wouldn't go so far as to say the Initiative are our friends, but they're not our enemies, either.

[Ordinarily, Sue would let a guest enter first, but since Anne's worried about traps, she lets herself in to show she's unafraid, and then waits beside the door, holding it open for Anne.]

[ She follows after, not wanting to appear too weak in this case. The other woman seems terribly certain of herself, but then there's no telling if she's not a spy herself. This life may not be so different from court after all. ]

I assume you opened up the walls and the floors to be thorough, then?