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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.

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She's quite sure that this is just a side effect of her having finally gone completely mad. It just wouldn't do to have one of the only remaining Black family members not be utterly off her rocker, would it? That's the only explanation that she can think of for why she was just a short time ago standing over the bodies of her daughter and son-in-law, and then suddenly in this -- transport room, that's what they kept calling it.

Andromeda decides to just let them lead her around - although she's routinely and inexplicably letting out a soft sound and then letting tears run quietly down her face - until the strangers leave.

Once that happens, she finds her way to the edge of a wall and leans back hard against it, sliding down to the floor and pulling her knees to her chest. None of this is really happening, and they're carting her off to St. Mungo's. She's -- almost sure of it.

Almost. She takes slow, deep breaths in hopes of calming down, but really -- there's only so much one can be calmed when such raw emotion is involved.

[ Charles is standing mostly to himself, though he's holding a large sword and seems to be both questioning and admiring the piece of work in his hands. He places it down beside him then, noting that it's rather awkward to carry around in such a busy and bustling place. Then, he looks up -- makes a point, instead, to make eye contact with the others here.

He certainly had questions, yes. And so did others -- that was obvious enough, given the loud bustle of minds that raced 'round his own. It took a greater effort to silence them than it would in any normal situation, that was for certain. Charles may or may not be searching for familiarity, or anyone he may know more closely; but he looks quite approchable, beyond the heavy sword he's suddenly been gifted with.

how do i hold all of these things ]

[ Erik is clearly eying the large sword with a raised eyebrow as he approaches Charles. It looks almost comically at odds with Charles' cardigan-clad exterior, which is a thought that Erik does not even try to hide. His own weapon is much less unwieldy, the seven inch blade easily secured to his belt. It looks almost unassuming compared to some of the weapons he has seen in the brief time since they arrived here.

The sword rises to Erik's hand as he stands at Charles' side, examining the blade more closely for a long moment before handing it back to the younger man. ]

Do you know how to use this, Charles?

It's all a fairly large blur right now. First thing he knows he's got the sensation of waking up someplace even though he doesn't remember going to bed. And then some lady in a weird dress is talking to him, shuffling him along and now he's in this large room, and it's bright. So bright.

He looks it over, and looks all the people over, and concludes nothing besides the fact that he doesn't even stick out in his blue PJish clothes. John had found a familiar hammer in that room and is currently trying to balance it with all the other little things he's been given to hang onto. He settles with putting them all in his hood. It kind of weighs weird around his neck, but it works! Even if he probably looks dorkier than usual.

Paying more attention to the other people in the room with the dilemma of WHERE TO PUT MY STUFF solved, John looks out for someone he recognizes. Or even just anyone who seems friendly! He is not choosey.

Jade tucks away his acquisitions in the item bag. He stands aside, hands in his pockets, and observes. His hands are allowed this luxury courtesy of Jade being in possession of no obvious weapon.

Another revolution on the British Isles. It's an amusing enough turn of events, even if he isn't a great fan of twice being conscripted across universes. It's also fairly disappointing to have lost all of his equipment and research. He can only hope that it was put in the right hands.

In the end, he looks less approachable than he looks unreasonably calm and self-possessed. It is no illusion. His mind is calm and clear, taking in information and processing it with the unfeeling logic of a fon machine. He'll have to progress out shortly, but there is no harm in remaining for a moment.

Edited 2012-02-10 06:04 (UTC)

[ bustled along with everyone else, Riku stands as a particularly young recruit. probably doesn't help that he makes the effort of making himself look small and he lets others pass politely, though he doesn't stop himself from shoving someone back if they shove him first. he's nearly silent, though every now and then, he finds Charles look around at others, making eye contact, though he's avoiding it. he'd be lying if he wasn't curious--it was an odd reaction to a sudden crowd, looking to familiarize themselves. at least, he thought so--crowds weren't his style. small groups weren't, either.

he preferred to do things alone most of the time, and pack mentality wasn't...

... okay, he'd been trying not to outright stare at anyone but he can't help but look a little horrified at the prospect of Charles and that large sword. and before he can stop himself: ]

That probably isn't a good idea.

[ and not only does he berate himself, but the echo of the shade possessing his heart and mind speaks out against it too. loudly.

(hint charles you don't you cannot hold all the things) ]

[Charles may or may not notice the strange alien girl leaning on the wall near by, looking completely bored. Surely he'd notice her if not for her outlandish appearance than for the fact that she's a fellow psychic. Sort of. She certainly notices him when he flashes that sword around and smirks, showing off fangs.

But she doesn't say anything. She just stares for a moment.]

Why is there a kid here?

The question nagged at the back of his mind. Alright, sure, at most the kid was two or three years less than him so maybe he wasn't expertly qualified at calling him a kid, but... hey, still, he was shorter than him at least. That had to count for something. He thinks of walking over and kneeling in front of him and asking if he's lost but that'd be sort of... patronizing, wouldn't it?

He already had a weapon, but thinking critically, did he actually know how to wield it? Maybe he was too used to being the Older Kid™ in his group, but somehow, just seeing him sling that over his shoulder got a bit worrying if he hadn't had any practice. Sure, they'd probably have training, but...

Oh, welp, he's looking.

Riku: Abort Mission.

[John here however seems far more distracted, brows knitting together as he focuses on the items in his hands before he shakes his head to regain attention on his surroundings. For a moment he spends time switching weight on one foot and straightening his posture, taking a breath as he finally starts to be more mobile. First he's putting keys away along with the money pouch until expertly turning the handgun in hand to stick behind him in the safety of his waistband.

He starts to turn the netbook in his hands now, looking at it closely while his tongue darts out and licks over his lips. Right.. Okay, so he was hallucinating. Or.. he wasn't. This felt very real, too real. So he'd been drugged and kidnapped to some place for war? Despite what they said it was hard to believe any of that as true.

Good luck they had said. And the other people here? Were they told the same thing?] .. Jesus.

There were benefits to a Magus' picturesque sense of memory. Numbers and words rattled off easily to him. The explanation given to him was simple and while he should have had the compulsion to think of a way out of the situation, Shirou found himself glowering at the fine bow he was given. There was a faint trace of a scar on one of his hands--a blemish that he was supposed to take as the last vestige of a career in archery.

It was his weapon of choice in some situations, but it seemed more like a little jab in his personal direction after he mulled it over. Shirou wished he had a better complaint. He was dressed conspicuously--wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans with sneakers as if he were out on the town doing errands. Slung over his right shoulder was his bag--complete with the few extra items left to him. With a huff, Shirou regarded the bow.

"I already know I can't break this string in good sense. Fixing it would be way too difficult and restringing it seems pointless when it's that strong a wire..." He smiled, trying to ignore the insult of the gift, admiring what he was given while standing on the outside of the Transport Room. Shirou might have looked fairly absent-minded.

There are a lot of feelings that shoot through Vriska when she spots John wander into the room. Vriska hadn't done much listening to the woman nor had she done much wandering with the group. She had all but shoved her way forward, made this orientation end as fast as possible, and then sauntered into this room like she owned the place. Eventually she would, she was sure of it. For now she needed to figure out what to do about this mess. But suddenly allt hat seemed really small in comparison to the realization she had to face John.

She couldn't just ignore him or anything lame like that. She wouldn't want to, but she had said a lot of embarrassing things to him just minutes ago. Vriska's mind tried to ration that there wasn't any guarantee he was from the same timeline. Barring that, well...

Well she couldn't just keep standing there staring at him like an idiot!

"Joooooooohn!" Vriska called, not caring if she was being loud. She was on the other side of the room and waited for him to spot her, waving. She put on a grin and swallowed all those feelings that had bubbled up in her at the sight of him. Later. For now she could be happy to see him here. Where ever here was.

[ though he keeps up with the group he's been corralled into, Riku mostly keeps his eyes down and away from everyone else. usually, he'd be looking at everyone, but this had come at too awful a time and he didn't feel quite up to doing recon when he'd just been ripped away from his home for the second time. every now and then, he does bump into someone and gives an apology, though it's probably hard to see that he really is earnest in meaning it, thanks to that sheepdog fringe in his eyes.

give him a break, he hasn't had a haircut in years.

while almost everyone seems to be choosing a weapon, however, Riku wanders away, a shield catching his eye. there's already an intricate and unusual sword grasped in his left hand. ]

Orihime was no stranger to strange new worlds but this time it was different. Every other time she had found herself somewhere new she distinctly remembered deciding to go there. This was different, she didn't remember signing up for this.

She's walking slowly through the hold, trying to take everything in. Of course since she's juggling keys, a bag full of money, a computer and a rapier it's less like walking and more like stumbling around over herself.

Have you woken up?

[Shirou spoke up just from John's side, one hand raised in a friendly, vague sort of wave--as if he were testing the waters to wager whether John would even notice him in his sort of bleary, doubtful state. His smile was placid and plain, much more fitting for a bumpkin than anything else.

Shirou was tall, definitely--a bit surpassing 6 feet with an obsidian crafted bow slung over his shoulder loosely tied--almost gingerly--by a few straps from his backpack. His casual state of dress, jeans and a t-shirt, were a far stretch from anything a soldier would wear on the field.]

There are quite a few people that the Doctor could talk to, but the one who looks the calmest seems like a good start, because while there may be disorientation around them here is a man who looks like he would be more distressed by a late bus than by this turn of events. At least the Doctor assumed people became distressed by late buses. He had heard stories.

"This is all very distressing, isn't it?"

The Doctor sounds less distressed and more excited and friendly, like someone breaking the ice at a party.

At least a few other non-British semi-Londoners are here for Jade. A familiar pair of bickering roommates that surely Jade would have missed dearly. Lion has placed the bow with the quiver because otherwise it is just a little impractical to walk around holding it.

That and Lion's hand is occupied with Will's.

"Oh, is it Jade?" Lion smiles and calls out upon noticing him. "I thought you would be too old for the draft."

Just like that, falling right into step with the usual greetings.

"What's your deal?"

Probably the last thing Andromeda wants is a weird alien girl standing over her, hands at her hips and face set in a scowl. Vriska didn't do much listening to the guide woman and now she wanted to know what was going on. She'd decided that this woman here would tell her since Andromeda happened to be the first one she spotted.

"Excuse me?" She looks up from her quiet spot in the corner to -- what looks like some sort of large goblin, or something of the sort. Well. That's -- new.

"My 'deal' is, it seems, the same as yours. Or weren't you listening?" She's certainly not going to be intimidated by said weird alien girl.

At least Lion's distracted, because it's a lapse of attention that lets him pull his hand away. A half-hearted attempt laced with annoyance, and it's not like he's wandered off elsewhere yet. Though it's being debated.

There's a glance from Lion to Jade, then back. Mostly because of that whole thing about this being another dumping ground for Fragment wayfarers, and there's a high chance that Jade doesn't remember anything and Lion's just accosting some random troll.

Just sighing a bit, hands in his pockets, then acknowledging Jade with his usual habit of carefully-worded sentences.

"If you're too old to be dealing with energetic kids, I can fix that."

John bounds over, smiling and eagerly looking the place as well as Riku over.

"Hey!" he says. "Hey. I'm John, who are you? Did that lady say anything to you that made sense? Cause she said nothing like that to me." He's trying pretty hard not to babble because that's what a nervous John does, and only barely crushes that temptation.

"Incredibly so." At least Jade's tone is in the pleasantly rather than sharply insincere range. Despite the circumstances, he isn't irritated. He doesn't take his hands from his pockets, and he observes: accent, clothing, body language. He wonders if a translator is functioning here. It's worth looking into. If not, the person in question has a curiously British accent. Jade's own accent, he knew, had been shaped by Lion, Will, and London itself, which he supposes will continue to make some things simpler here. His body language remains that easy, relaxed posture that can so quickly switch to combat capability. "It comforts me to know I'm not alone in my distress."

Edited 2012-02-10 06:27 (UTC)

[From one Britain to another? Well, it does seem to be a much different genre than the last one. And certainly it isn't mystery or fantasy, is it? Lion still can't resist thinking in those terms after reviewing the games so many times. Probably not normal but oh well.

Lion is perfectly calm, as if this happens everyday. Maybe slightly irritated at the change in scenery and concerned at the very likely possibility of being alone but otherwise fine. First priority is to find Will or any other familiar face. Learning more details of the situation along the way is another issue.

But at the moment, Lion is busy looking over the bow chosen earlier. It seemed like the best idea but... pulling back on the string with no real talent shows Lion has no idea what to do with it. Calm and useless at weapons. At least anyone around can be assured Lion isn't going to hurt them.]

For Will's question, Jade's answer is in the broad grin that spreads over Jade's face at Lion's words. He steps forward (and does not deign to depocket his hands) and says, "My, my. It would seem that once again, not even universes dare to separate young lovers. My aged heart is reborn."

It is also one concern set aside. Lion, who has become to him a respected charge as Ion once was, is safe and with Will. The issue is set neatly aside as his eyes flicker to Will and his voice briefly assumes a less mocking tone as he makes a professional inquiry. "I assume we remain out of Heaven's jurisdiction."

Edited 2012-02-10 06:25 (UTC)

[ Bariyan doesn't waste time floundering in confusion. The keys, the money, those two things he understands well enough and pockets away for later. It's the last that has his attention.

He holds it very carefully between his hands and approaches the first person who catches his eye, who also happens to be examining an object of the same type. ]

Excuse me. What is this?

[ His voice is rough edged, as if part of it is getting caught and shredded up somewhere in his throat.

Since the mysterious black rectangle seems light enough to carry in one hand, Bariyan does exactly that, gingerly holding it up and away from him. His other hand immediately goes to pick at the stitches around his neck. ]

Oh, damn it.

Riku brought his hand to the back of his neck, laying it there as he looked down at John, unsure of what to do or say. Was he even allowed to say anything due to the rules of world order? ... then again, he was in a completely different world with people from other different worlds. Maybe it was like Traverse Town that way. Alright. He could go with this.

"Yeah, it made sense to me," he said lightly, letting his hand fall. He didn't mind John's babbling--at least it filled up the space between his silence.

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