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open log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Bariyan casts his eyes over the room, sees nothing, goes for a seco-- wait, hold on. The orange stands out. Also, the fact that she-- she? is it a girl? Bariyan can't tell from this distance and remedies that by carefully navigating his way towards her.

All right, probably a girl. ]

Are you cold?

[ That's about as tactful as Bariyan can manage right now. He frowns down at her. ]

[ Artika, meanwhile, is all too happy to completely disregard that frown and peer up intently at Bariyan. She hasn't seen many humans as dark as she is! That's interesting. And black hair, too! That's appreciated. She finally seems to notice that he's said something, and blinks a little comprehension onto the scene. ]

Yes. [ It is a little chilly around here, she's just now noticing. ] And if you are hot, then I could help with that. [ that with a pointed little glance down at his outerwear. Surely he doesn't need that much cloth. Surely. ]

[ Her voice, her accent, her-- it catches Bariyan off guard. And that throws him off, enough that he almost slides straight into defensive mode before he catches himself. He looks down, and tugs at the collar of his shirt. ]

Here.

[ He looks around, hopes that no one is paying attention, and shrugs out of his shirt to hand it over to the girl. He pauses briefly in the process because he's forgotten that, neck aside, his torso is peppered in old stab wounds. Bariyan grimaces down at himself. Oh well. Too late now. ]

Can't have my pants though, sorry 'bout that. But we could probably get you some more clothes somewhere around here. [ Bariyan clicks his teeth together and pats his pockets, feeling for the money that they'd handed over earlier. If there's money, then there's shops, right? ]

[ Oh. Well. That's an awful lot of scars this guy has. She eyes them as she pulls on the shirt, and as soon as she's done and with no sense whatsoever of personal boundaries, Artika promptly leans in for a closer look. She doesn't outright prod at them, but only because she can't imagine they would feel like much of anything, and there's no use in it. ]

Are you a mercenary? [ She glances up only to deliver the question, and then she's right back to her study— and she's not limiting it to the front, but looping around him for a full once-over. ] You have more wounds than Pyran, though! Maybe that means you are a mercenary that is not very good at fighting.

[ Bariyan immediately leans back when Artika comes close, then grimaces and puts up with the impromptu 360-degree inspection. The set of his shoulders stiffens and he shifts his weight from foot to foot, awkwardly. ]

Nah. I used to be. Not anymore.

[ Bariyan fidgets, then breaks. He turns to face Artika and crosses his arms over his chest. The action hides the bulk of his injuries. ]

May I ask you something? [ He does pause, but not long enough for an answer. ] What are you?

[ He is examining Artika's ears, markings, and feathers with mild interest. Actually, possibly a little more than mild interest -- he looks like he is just one step away from reaching out and tugging at both of her ears. ]

[ It's right about then that Artika decides she likes him. He used to be a mercenary. Aforementioned Pyran is a mercenary. What more could she need? And as if that weren't enough, he'd surrendered some property to her. That makes him pretty okay in her books. She straightens happily from her exam when he turns to face her, hands behind her back and smile bright.

She opens her mouth to answer, and-- that's not a word. That's totally not a word, just a weird, whistling birdcall. But she whistles it very definitively, at least. A second later, she adds: ] But you are human, and your voice doesn't work right, and so you probably can't say that. So you can say "Avian" instead. The humans named us that.

[ Bariyan hadn't even realized that the noise was a word. He'd just sort of assumed it was some sort of strange alien wolf-whistle, or something, and he had be preparing himself to be very uncomfortable-- but now his shoulders sag in relief. Phew. ]

Avain? So, like a bird?

[ He frowns and his curiosity gets the better of him. What are those? Really? Ears? Tiny wings? He reaches out to pick up one of Artika's ears and lift it for better inspection. ]

[ She nods, glad for the common ground of... both of them knowing a word. "Bird". Yeah. That one's pretty hard to come by, huh. ]

Yes! That's what they called them. I would not have not liked if they called us birds too, but Venus knows the right names for everything, like birds, and said that "Avian" is better. So it is Avian.

[ She doesn't seem to mind having an ear-tuft investigated, and tips her head into it with eyes happily half-closed. There's not a whole lot of substance to it, though. It's not much larger than a human's, under all the feathers. ]

Oh. [ Eyes opening again, like she's just remembered-- ] I'm Artika. What is your name?

[ Curiosity sated, Bariyan lets his arm drop back to his side. ]

Bariyan. [ He twists his mouth to the side, might be a smile, might be a frown. ] Artika. It's good to meet you.

[ He frowns at her ears, then frowns at his offending hand. ]

Ah, sorry about that.

[ If she even registers the apology, it's thoroughly ignored. She's going for his hand instead, looking to snatch it up in a... pretty demanding handshake. ]

You do this when you meet someone new. It's a handshake.

[ Bariyan wasn't expecting the sudden grab and when he founds himself caught in a handshake, he practically goes rigid. ]

Yes, I've-- done handshakes before-- thank you--

[ It's awkward. Bariyan's not much good at handshakes, he's all dead weight and cold skin and he can barely feel her grip, never mind how strong it looks (and it looks might strong). He lets go, hoping that she'll relinquish his arm back to him now. ]

Good. I met a man that did not know-- [ Distraction! She blinks, peering down at his hand, and then up at his face. He can have his hand back, she guesses. But only because it'd felt so weird. ]

Why are you so cold? Because you gave me your shirt?

[ Bariyan takes his hand back and immediately goes to scratch at his neck. ] Ah ha. No, no it's not that...

[ Is he supposed to tell her that he is technically dead? Is that even the sort of thing you bring up in first meetings or introductions? Hell, he doesn't know. Before this, everyone he'd interacted with had been well aware of his circumstances. And he hadn't cared what they thought of his social etiquette anyway, seeing as most of them had been trying to stuff him back into the grave.

This, though. Everything's different here.

Okay, how to do this... ]

I'm dead.

[ Quick and deadpan and straight-to-the-point and definitely awkward. Good. Fantastic. Great job, Bariyan. ]

[ She blinks to hear that and, for once, bears no particular expression. ]

No you aren't.

[ She sounds pretty sure of that, Bariyan. Might want to checck that pulse again. ]

[ Nope, pretty sure that pulse is still MIA. Bariyan sighs and, rather uncomfortably, gestures towards his neck. ]

I... someone brought me back. I've been called a zombie, if that means anything to you.

[ His tone of voice has gone very flat, and suggests that he'd very much like to leave it at that. ]

[ She peers up at his neck, intent and thoughtful, before finally leaning away and shaking her head. She has no idea what a zombie is supposed to be, but she sure knows this guy is just doing way too much talking and moving around to be dead. ]

But you aren't dead. You are-- [ a vague gesture ] Moving. And speaking. So you aren't.

[ He sighs, resignedly. All right. Come on, it's not like this is physically painful to think about or anything, he's not that stupidly fragile. ]

Yes, but that's through... magic. It doesn't make me alive. Here.

[ He leans down, and gently reaches for her hand to take to his neck, right under the jaw. Where there definitely is not a pulse. ]

[ Artika is not looking at all convinced, possibly helped by the fact that "magic" is another new word to her. She waits to feel a pulse, frowns when she doesn't, and lifts her other hand to her own neck. Huh. Well, she's apparently checking in the right place...

She waits a few more seconds for something to make sense, and looks a little disappointed when nothing steps up to the plate. Finally she drops both hands. ]

Then your heart is not moving, but you still are not dead.

[ Against all expected rational behavior, Bariyan starts to laugh.

He doesn't really know why. He guesses it's Artika, and her refusal to accept that he's about half a step away from worms eating his eyes. Her stubbornness is actually kind of endearing. ]

All right, if that's how you want to think of it. You should try stabbing me some time, though. It'll be interesting, I promise.

[ Aaaannndd Artika's pretty sure that she'd made the right decision to like this guy, even if he's so confused that he think she's dead. Anyone who laughs like that -- and not cruelly -- isn't bad. So she goes straight from defiantly bemused into smiling. ]

Why, what if I stab you? Is it different than if you stab me?

Oh, yes. Very different.

[ There. Hopefully that's enough to sate her curiosity for now. If not, they'll go back to the armory and let her try it out. ]

How about we see to getting you a better shirt, now?

[ Silly Bariyan, of course that's not enough to sate her curiosity. And if that sudden wide-eyed and leaning-in interest isn't enough of an indication, then he might be dead and blind. ]

No, I am warm. Do you have a knife?

[ Whoops, Bariyan is suddenly threatened by another onset of laughing. He stifles it as he leans away from Artika. ]

No, but there were plenty of knives back that way-- [ He jerks his thumb back towards the armory that they'd been walked through. ] --at least, as far as I recall.

Okay. Then we will find a knife. [ And she's darting forward immediately, looking to capture one of his arms in both of his to pull him along with. Curiously, as she does: ] What will happen?

[ Bariyan goes dead stiff at the contact, but allows himself to be dragged along. For now. He arches an eyebrow at her. ]

You really want me to tell you? It'll spoil the surprise.

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