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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

[flightlessbird]

Oh.

[ She mulls that one over for a few seconds, glancing away again. Huh. How weird. She's not sure if she believes it or not. Everyone bleeds, right? That skepticism is back when she looks up again. ]

Why?

[stonefaith]

[ Uh oh. Circles. Artika's almost like a small child, and-- Bariyan starts when he realizes that Artika reminds him of someone. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and shakes his head of the thought. ]

It's because I'm-- [ Dead, he's about to say, but thinks he knows where that will get him. ] --because I don't have a heartbeat. [ Close enough. ]

[flightlessbird]

[ Impatiently- ] No, no. Why are you...

[ Like this, is about all she can think to put to words, but that's not very specific, and probably wouldn't get any questions answered. She considers the phrasing for a few seconds, getting more agitated, and finally just spews a stream of birdsong.

At least she can ask her question in one language, even if he won't understand it. ]

[stonefaith]

[ Unfortunately Bariyan is not versed in the language of birds and has no idea what's set her off. He stops walking. ]

Uh... you all right, there?

[flightlessbird]

[ She nods, but looks a little miserable. ]

I have not learned the words in my questions yet.

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan shrugs. Inside, he is resisting the urge to pat her head. ]

I'm sure we can work it out. Is the question about me being dead again?

[flightlessbird]

You aren't dead. [ oh look, the sharp insistence can cut pretty easily through that language-barrier despair, how nice. ]

[stonefaith]

Mostly dead. Close enough.

[ Bariyan's terribly amused by her insistence. It seems like his degree of living matters more to Artika than it does to him. ]

Come on. Still going to the armory or not?

[flightlessbird]

[ oh right. there was a purpose to all this. She picks up the place with a cheery affirmative, promptly ducking around the corner as soon as they're there. She's found a knife in no time at all, and turns around with a smile--

--which is where the enthusiasm dies. She doesn't, actually, make a habit of stabbing people, and suddenly she's eying him a little nervously. ]

How do I...?

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan examines his hands, then his chest, and scratches his head before shrugging. He feels distinctly awkward right now; maybe this wasn't such a great idea. Aw, but she'd asked so nicely. ]

Well, you can start with sticking the pointy end in me. [ Oh that sounds unfortunately dirty. He really hopes Artika doesn't pick up on that. ]

[flightlessbird]

Oh.

[ Yep, absolutely no picking up on anything, here. She considers the knife, then considers Bariyan. Back and forth, a few times, before she holds out the knife, hilt-first. ]

You do it.

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan had been expecting that. He grins and takes the knife and, without a moment's hesitation, slices the blade across his left arm. ]

Nothing, see?

[ No blood. Just the clean cut. If you stuck your finger into it, it'd come out clean. Beyond that, who knows? Bariyan's not really sure what the internal workings of his body are right now, and he'd rather not tempt fate any further. ]

[flightlessbird]

[ She can't help looking just a little alarmed, and almost makes to stop him, but of course it's too late by then. So she settles for leaning in quickly, both hands on his forearm to jerk it toward her for a concerned study.

Only, he's right. No blood. She frowns, prodding cautiously at the skin to either side, like maybe the veins just hadn't gotten the message yet and would start gushing at any moment. Eventually she glances up again. ]

Will it fix? [ a pause, she amends: ] Heal?

[stonefaith]

Yeah. Pretty quickly. Don't worry about it.

[ He tosses the knife back into the rest of the weaponry gathered here. ]

I don't know though, maybe you're right. There's probably some way to kill me. [ He smirks, a little. ] Just not one that anyone's tried yet.

[flightlessbird]

[ She glances after the knife, still looking a little concerned, but -- there. Her attention snaps back up to Bariyan properly, caught in a triumphant determination. ]

Then you are not dead! Or you would not be killed. You can't kill dead somethings. See?

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan holds both hands up. Whoa there. ]

Sure! I guess. I'm just more resistant to death. Maybe that's a better way to put it.

[flightlessbird]

[ whatever, man. whatever. As far as Artika's concerned, her point is totally proved. She tips her chin up haughtily. ]

Yes. But you still should not die, I don't want that. [ A point down to his arm. ] And no more that, too.

[stonefaith]

[ She's so demanding. Bariyan really wants to pat her head. ]

All right, I'll try. Can't make any promises, though.

[ He looks around. ] We should probably head back.

[flightlessbird]

Okay. [ She steals his arm again (but can't help awkwardly avoiding that slice in the skin-- touching it would be weird), and promptly tugs him back for the door.

Which doesn't, of course, mean she's done with this interrogation. One hand points to his neck. ] Why is that?

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan scratches at the seams as they start to walk back. ]

This? Someone cut my head off once. Wasn't pleasant. [ He's grinning as he says it, but it's definitely strained. ]

[flightlessbird]

Oh. [ Well that's kind of a weird thing to say with a grin. Did she mishear that, or something? She frowns, a little doubtfully. ] Why?

[stonefaith]

He, uh... [ Ouch. That's a painful topic. Bariyan awkwardly shoves his free hand into his pocket and looks everywhere but straight at Artika. ] Well. Shit happens.

[ All right, that's more than enough. As they walk the path from the armory back to the transport room again, Bariyan switches subjects. ]

What do you think they brought us here for? Did they tell you anything?

[flightlessbird]

[ Another frown, more accusing this time. ] You are only asking that because you don't want to answer my question.

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan frowns, but supposes that it really isn't a big deal. What? So he died. So someone killed him. Hardly matters; he came back. ]

All right, he killed me because... someone asked him to. That's all.
[ It's true. All the rest, all that other stuff, that's just details. ]

Honest question, though. Did they tell you anything?

[flightlessbird]

That is not any more of an answer than it was before.

[ One last darting scowl with that, but... well, good enough. For now. She flaps a dismissive hand. ]

Yes, but I was not listening to everything.