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[initiates]

Date & Time: Evening, 10th February 3312
Location: Transport Room
Characters: Open To All
Summary: Everyone is brought into the transport room at roughly the same time, in a great succession and flow of imported individuals. Everyone is being lead around in small bundles, or left to their own devices together inside the Initiative Hold.
Warnings: None.

Widespread and crowded, everyone is being transported into this unusually bright room with an efficiency that is almost horrifying. One after the other, new people are appearing -- being led, shown around and then ultimately abandoned with one final phrase; "Good luck."

The Initiative Hold is wide, like a small town in its depth and industry. You've received your weapon; you've got your keys, your netbook, and one of those robed strangers has shoved a small pouch full of what you can only assume is money into your open palm. You've been given an apartment, but where on earth -- are we on earth? -- is it? Your best opportunity right now is to mingle; at least, that's what everyone else appears to be doing. Those strangers in the robes have left. They're tending to the people who are arriving, one by one and in a quick procession. Energy bustles all around you, as you're strapped up with your sudden gifts and looking around.

Hey, maybe you'll even see some familiar faces.

Comments

[bottlegreen]

[ Everyone here is wearing something strange, not one of them look like they've ever heard of fashion, and Laurence is highly inclined to be tired, grumpy, and overly judgmental. He also looks a little bit like he's been without a shower or a proper shave in the better part of a week, so maybe he shouldn't be quite so critical, but at least he's made a decent attempt to at least brush out some of the dirt and mud from his fancy 1806-coat. (It didn't help at all.)

He approaches John stiffly, because when in doubt, turn always to formality. Shoulders perfectly straight, chin up, face as composed as the face of any man in any army has ever been. ]

Begging your pardon, sir, but may I ask as to whether you've been given the same introductory speech, of wars and the need for assistance? I should like to be sure I have not-- [ gone crazy, imagined it all ] --Misheard anything.

[doctorly]

[At least John was wearing something more or less casual, mostly ranging in the dark colors but that's no surprise since he had just been heading back from visiting a cemetery. He's fixing his black jacket to pull closer together over his dark jumper and plaid shirt, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

For a brief moment he glances up to the man approaching him, till he slowly turns to face him with the same military posture in the way he stands.]

No you've heard right mate, I was given the exact speech and I wouldn't be bloody surprise word for word. Sounds like it's not just us two, the lot are telling each one of us.

[bottlegreen]

[ A brief flicker of disapproval makes it across his face to hear that overly casual tone. He never would have allowed that much of a reaction if he'd been in a better mood, of course, but some things can't be helped.

At least the man seemed perfectly willing to be helpful, if coarse. ]

I see. [ Wonderful. He looks a little more grim than he had before, but still manages a polite nod of greeting. ] Pray forgive my poor manners; it has been something of a long day. My name is Captain William Laurence, and it is of course my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister...?

[doctorly]

[John was too busy distracting himself that he hardly noticed, he as struggling with trying to keep collected in the situation and at the same time figure out what exactly was going on. It put him on the edge, continuously clenching and releasing the grip of his fists.

Though his gaze does seem to flicker with recognition at the title, John himself had use to be of the Captain rank in the army. But that was before and it wouldn't really serve much purpose at the moment.] That's fine, we're all in this tricky situation so.

[Most would extend their hand for a shake in greeting, but seeing how the man simply gave a nod he would do to returning that with one of his own.] Doctor John Watson. A pleasure.

[bottlegreen]

[ A doctor. Laurence wonders briefly if the man is a surgeon, or a man of some less-useful schooling. Either way, it's never a poor thing to have the acquaintance of a doctor. He files the information away carefully, to be reflected upon at some more opportune moment. ]

Then, Doctor Watson, I am truly sorry to meet you under such distressing circumstances; I have no doubt you found yourself also inconveniently displaced, the same as I. As i can tell, it seems none of us at all are here of choice.

[doctorly]

Yes it does seem like we all have.. From what I can see it's not exactly random, I mean as far as potential fighters go for this.. war a lot look to know how to use their weapon.

[Potential soldiers, course there's not just adults but younger people as well. Every time he spots one his stomach sinks.] Say, you didn't happen to hear them ever suggest when we'd get back, did you?