(no subject)

[initiates]

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.

Comments

[deadlybanker]

The assassin's hood helped a little with the rain in that it at least had the benefit of shielding his face from the worst of the downpour. The cloth was not waterproof however and, though it had dried during his time in the hospital building, it quickly became soaked again. With the chill in the air it was little wonder why so many people walked around bundled from head to toe. What a murky place this was... He hoped the sun might come out so it would be easier to see the rest of the city, but there seemed to be little hope of that happening any time soon.

"Returning home is something we would all like to do. I doubt there are many here who like the idea of being kidnapped and told to fight some one else's war."

As something of an alarm went up in the medical building behind them, it seemed one of the patients was missing, Giovanni stepped from the curb and into the crowd. He brought his new friend Haytham with him of course. He still had been given no reason to distrust the man's motivations.

"Tell me, what do you think of all this?"

and i fail for taking forever at this, FORGIVE ME ;___;

[iniquitas]

Haytham had no such difficulty with the rain--he'd grown up in London, after all, and he was always more or less prepared for any sort of weather between the hat and his outer garments. He took one last look back at the clinic, bustling into activity now that the Assassin's departure had been noticed, and let slip a slight smirk before turning back to Giovanni.

"I think perhaps we should find somewhere dry to talk, before you catch your death, hm?"

He had allowed Giovanni to lead him into the streets, amongst the crowd of faceless, nameless citizens of this city. Now Haytham scanned the line of buildings surrounding them. Surely there had to be--ah, yes. He gestured with a nod of his head to a sign about half a block down from their present location. Though the name meant nothing to him, the place had the look of a tavern about it.

"A likely candidate, wouldn't you say?"

Nessun problema ~,^

[deadlybanker]

"We do not need to search for a dry place on my account."

Still the suggestion was appreciated and the place Haytham pointed out was given an appraising look.
The building indicated did seem as inviting as any other in town, which wasn't saying much. Many of the structures they passed sported broken windows or were boarded up to prevent people from entering, and all of them were very stark with no ornamentation whatsoever. It was a very run down section of town... or maybe the entire city looked like this?
But at least this building with the sign wasn't boarded up and if the men clinging to each other and stumbling down the street was any indication they did serve alcohol here.

"A taverna, maybe? Are you thirsty Messer, Kenway?"

Taverns were a good source of information too. One could learn so much just by listening in to the conversations occurring all around them.

"We could stop in for a moment."

A small group of rough looking men had to be pushed through before the pair could make their way into the tavern and over to a freshly unoccupied table. The wait staff hadn't even had time to clear the dirty glasses away but that was seen too as soon as their order was taken.

"Have you been in this city long? I wonder how much you were able to learn about this place before you stumbled onto me."

[iniquitas]

"Thirsty? Not particularly, but I've often found the tavern the best place to start when visiting a new city. That, and I'm not terribly fond of standing about in the rain either." And you look like a drowned rat. He bit back the smart remark--he was trying to make friends, for the first time in recent memory, and that called for a bit less sarcasm than he was used to.

The little group of rabble barely even registered to Haytham--he shoved his way through them along with Giovanni, hardly sparing them a moment's notice.

Once they were seated and the dirty dishes had been cleared, Haytham leaned forward and rested his forearms on the edge of the table, lacing his fingers together.

"Not long, no," he replied, "and I suspect I absorbed about as much of the introductory speech in the Initiative building as you did, wounded as you were. Shortly after I arrived I was drugged and left to wander the streets."

He paused at the arrival of their drinks, accepting a glass of rum from the waitress but not bothering to sample it just yet. Instead he simply wrapped his hands around the glass. "Which reminds me--how exactly were you wounded? I had thought to ask earlier, but treatment seemed the more pressing issue at the time."

[deadlybanker]

Giovanni on the other hand did sample a sip of the brew when it arrived. After everything he was a bit parched... and this 'rum' was mostly water anyway. It seemed they didn't have much of anything and even the drinks were weakened to stretch them as far as they could go.

He was just like a drowned rat. Had Haytham said it aloud Giovanni might have agreed. He was so wet at this point that the water was running down the length of his hair like the downspout of a house.
... To think that so much rain could fall in such a short period of time.

Once he was seated inside the tavern though this situation could be remedied by allowing the air drying process to, very slowly, work it's magic.

"You were drugged?"

While they very likely had received the same welcome speech that being drugged part of it was very different than his own experience.

"The lady I met was very polite... if a touch insistent that I do as I was told and chose a weapon quickly. I wonder why you were treated more roughly."

Maybe they were more lenient with him due to his injury, or the method of their kidnappings had been different...

As for his injury, of course his new companion would ask and not wishing to lie he would answer, but it was a touch too soon for implicit trust. The details would be kept vague.

"I was pursuing a man with evil intentions but in the end he managed to injure me and escape. It was not long after that when I arrived in the middle of that circle. Was it the same for you or did you actually manage to see how you arrived?"

For Giovanni it was much like blinking. One minute he had been pulling Rodrigo Borga's knife out of his chest while lying prone on the ornate Basilica di San Pietro's tile and the next he was here... wondering what everything was and being given the welcome speech.

"I have never seen anyone dressed quite as you are, where are you from?"

[iniquitas]

At the question about his treatment at the hands of the Initiative, Haytham shrugged. "I cannot speak to their methods, though I'm told others have been drugged as well." He wasn't about to go tipping his hand just yet by explaining how he'd pressed his blade to the Guide's throat not long after arrival.

"...a man with evil intentions...."

Evil. Funny how the Assassins could spend their whole lives believing the Templars evil and themselves good, and yet Haytham had been raised to believe the exact opposite.

"I saw nothing, unfortunately," he said, not missing a beat in the conversation, despite his musing on the Assassin's choice of wording. At least this was no lie. "I was at sea with my son--one minute there, the next here." It felt odd to mention Connor to this man, very nearly a complete stranger. Then again, it still felt odd to have a son at all.

"England, lately by way of the Americas. The year was 1778. Yourself?"

[deadlybanker]

"It would make new arrivals easier to deal with."

The guides would be left with total control, absolute power, over those who were drugged. They would be more docile, easier to instruct and send along their way...
Much like the ambitions of those he fought against, perhaps. Borgia had said something about a war starting that he knew nothing about. Given the ruthlessness of the man's actions and his desire to gain control of Medici power that could only mean there would be difficult times ahead... or there would have been if he hadn't been pulled here instead.

"I suppose that matters little here. We have been told our enemy is the United Earth."

Though maybe it was those that had brought them here instead. He was not prepared to just blindly do as he had been instructed.

"You have a son?"

Being a family man himself Giovanni did take a special interest in that.

"The year was 1476. I am from Italia. I have heard of your England but not, I'm afraid, of these Americas. Are they an island chain some where?"

[(Italy)]
Deep in the heart of the Renaissance. They hadn't heard of the Americas yet, but their discovery wasn't too far off.

[iniquitas]

Haytham finally took a small sip of his drink as Giovanni mused about their captors. It certainly wasn't good, but then again he'd made the crossing over the Atlantic--three times. After being cooped up on a ship for more than a month one way, one could get used to drinking just about anything as long as it was wet.

At the mention of the United Earth he sneered, replacing his glass on the tabletop. "So we've been told," he said, rubbing the fingers of one hand together idly. "I would be interested to speak to someone from this 'United Earth,' perhaps hear their version of this little tale."

Ah yes, of course the mention of a son would pique the Assassin's interest. Haytham couldn't recall just how many children Giovanni had fathered beyond Ezio, but he knew there had been several.

"I do," he sighed, playing up the emotion of it just a bit. "One I've only lately become aware of, unfortunately. The boy is... not entirely fond of me."

Understatement of the year, that.

"They call it the New World, actually. Vast expanses of land across the sea with every nation in Europe worth its salt vying for a piece of it." He paused--while he was always loathe to speak of himself to others (and especially to an Assassin) it might behoove him to give the man just a little information. Just enough to seem ordinary, at least. "I've a settlement of my own in one of the Colonies, though lately I've been called away more often than not."

[deadlybanker]

"As would I."

Or at least he would like to gain a look at the records. Organizations, like the Initiative and United Earth, must have paperwork. That could tell far more than any informant or appointed greeter. He decided then to go courier hunting after this. With all of their advanced technology couriers might have fallen out of favor like so many other things but it could not hurt to look.

"But, from what I have heard the people of United Earth are not exactly open, especially not with people from this island. It is meant to be a prison."

He doubted information on this place or either group's activities would be so easily learned about simply by asking. He would try that too, of course, but there were other avenues that he believed might yield more reliable information.

Giovanni took another sip of the vile beverage as he listened to Haytham speak about his son and this 'new world'.

"You only just learned of him?"

It did happen that way. Maybe the family of the lady had not approved or Haytham had been called away... from the sounds of things this man was a very busy person in his time.

"That must be difficult. Perhaps if you spent time with the boy he would come to know you better."

So said completely ignorant of Haytham's attempts at this and the real reason for conflict between father and son. To him this was something that might still be solved.
He might have said more, asked about this fascinating 'new world' or asked after Haytham's wife, if the sound of a glass bottle being scattered against the bar hadn't interrupted. That was a sure sign things were about to become rowdy...

"It might be wise to make our way towards the door. This fight is not ours."