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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

"Exactly. That's why it's not a waste." Even finding nothing would be an answer. In that they're hiding something, possibly lying upfront, which effectively nullifies whatever arguments they've used in the first place. Not to mention a banned move, but that's not something she would get.

Well, she'll probably get his meaning. Gold eyes dart back to her at the skip in her speech, reading for something or another. Then writing it off as just a genuine falter, either over her own thoughts or over phrase translation. Back to staring off at nothing. "Of course. I'll share with whoever seeks it. Withholding information is forbidden."

That has her raising an eyebrow - it's interesting phrasing, to say the least.

"Forbidden?" She has to ask or she's just going to spend too much time thinking about it and over-analyzing it, and that's not something that's of use to anyone. "How do you mean?"

There's a beat of a silence before he answers, mentally tripping over something. Depending on how attentive she is, it might contrast a bit with how quickly he's answered everything else.

But it's still only a beat. The voice is still serious and without hesitation. And coming off like someone reciting a law book, "Consciously withholding any information that should be found by those who seek it is forbidden. It means exactly what it sounds like."

She does pick up that it's a little odd, but she can't exactly blame him for any sort of trip-ups he might be having right now, given the circumstances they've suddenly found themselves in.

"Forbidden by whom, exactly?" Her first thought is that he's got some sort of religious belief that he's quoting.

"The organization I worked for... I suppose those rules don't apply anymore."

Which explains the trip. Andromeda has no idea how close she really is with that first thought, but all she gets is a shrug. "I'll still acknowledge it. Can't speak for anyone else."

"No, I'm starting to think that none of the rules from our worlds are going to apply in quite the same way here."

She'll keep it in mind as her gut instinct regardless. "But that seems -- reasonable." Especially if this organization is a group he's been with for a long time.

"Probably not. So the trick would be finding loopholes."

Though the second comment gets a stare. Followed by a smile and a short exhale that would probably be a laugh in anyone more prone to emotions. "Reasonable. Thanks. That's the nicest adjective I've heard in years."

She smirks just a little sideways.

"Habits are hard to break, especially when we've been at them for a while." As a nurse who smokes, she can't really say much about stopping things that you know are bad for you.

"Ah -- yes, loopholes. Useful things, those." Although more something that her sister or cousin would take advantage of than her in most cases.

"If a habit's not hurting anyone else, no need to be too concerned." Whether it's slipping into the routine of legalese or smoking nurses. Didn't kill anyone, so who cares.

"Sometimes useful, sometimes crippling. In either case, we need their rules first. Who knows. Maybe we won't need loopholes."

She manages a genuine laugh at that. "...sorry, I just -- I think most people always find a reason to look for loopholes even when they're not wholly necessary."

Human nature.

"You're right. Can't say I'm a fan of them. Word plays are the worst." Not a laugh, but there's a lopsided smirk to match with her expression. Not the only one who finds human nature a bit hilarious.

"But like I said. Have to know their rules first to accommodate."

"Of course. We ought to at least make an attempt to ... negotiate, if not cooperate."

She glances over toward the door. This is -- all getting to be a bit much again. "I should -- probably be trying to find where I'm going to be staying."

Following her glance, but thinking over something else. Her voice keeps halting, that one less as a trip over phrasing. Something internal, but the thought's cut off after that. It's her business, you don't even know her name, allowing her that bit of privacy does not equal doing nothing.

Eventually just standing in one fluid motion, head lolling to one side like the sentence itself is boring enough to die over. "They're probably going to herd you all there if you stay around long enough. Though I doubt there's any danger if you go by yourself, so it doesn't matter that much."

An opening for her to retreat if she feels so inclined. A subtle move, but it's up to her to catch the translation behind the words.

To be honest, she's looking for a reason to leave -- not because she finds him to be poor company, but because she suspects that she is going to become poor company soon enough. It might benefit her to at least -- figure out where she is supposed to be calling home in this place. Maybe she can find a way to temporarily knock herself out with some sort of sedative.

"I think I'll try to beat the rush."

He's impossible to offend, whether someone makes a conscious effort or accidental. The only thing that really weighs at all in his mind is that she wants to leave, but doesn't want to say it, or can't find an excuse, and the reason doesn't so much matter in this case. A lighter case of heart reading, without tearing into secrets that should be all means remain private, and he has no reason to stop her.

So, if she wants to leave, but can't find a reason, that's reason enough. Not offering her a hand - less out of no sympathy, and more that it means she can keep to herself if that's what she wanted. "Smart idea. The place's getting over-populated as is. Can't say social gathering's are good for peace of mind."

An easier translation by leaps and bounds: more people means more showing up to question your business, right?

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