here they talked of revolution, here it was they lit the flame

[initiates]

Date: October 1st
Location: The Observatory.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Observatory for the show of the year. Initial briefings are very brief this time around, and that Greeter just won't stop crying.
Warnings: new confused people and old sad people??

Your arrival here has been very unceremonious. One second you were somewhere else, and now, very suddenly, your feet hit the glowing white of the Transporter pad, and you're here. You aren't alone, either. There's a crowd of others around you, each seeming just as bewildered, angry, or confused as you might feel. At the head of the group is a woman in purple robes, with eyes red as if she'd just finished crying. She hurries over a quick overview of your intended purpose here, and gives direct answers when asked for them, but to most things she simply shows you how to access the tablet you've just been given. There, you can find the history of this place and a record of what your new cohorts have experienced — although it won't have Network access for another 8 hours. Someone stands on hand to give you a weapon, and though the armory is now greatly reduced, you should be able to find something to suit you.

You're shepherded down a walkway tunnel and into the Observatory, where you will find screens mounted on three sides of the wide room. The only lighting comes from dull red emergency lights, and the scenes of a dreary, rainy city from various cameras up on the screens; the largest of the screens opens up to a view of Earth from a good distance away -- this one isn't a screen at all, you might realize, but a window. As you watch, all screens in the room fill with light, impossibly bright. It consumes the buildings, the people, everything. There is no sound played, perhaps mercifully, only that white light -- and then nothing.

Through the large window, there's a pinprick of light over one of the landmasses on the blue planet. It grows to a tiny blossom and then dies away, but a cloud begins to mushroom outward in the same spot. It pushes the natural clouds out of the way, claiming that small portion of the world and wrapping it in a uniform gray.

Strings of numbers begin to fill the blanked out screens as the base's AI begins collecting data and calculations, but the show seems to be over. You're free to explore the base, visit and use any of the VR rooms, or discover your new room and roommates, but try not to step out of any airlocks if oxygen is a requirement for your system.

Welcome to the moon base, with front row seats to the grave of Exsilium.

[[ooc; reminder! The Network will be down for 8 hours after the wave of new Transports.]]

Comments

[kyoumibukai]

[He smiles, taking that as an invitation, of sorts.]

Perhaps you were divorced from societal constructs... Were you? Also, what species or race do you feel you belong to?

[He leans into the doorway, attempting to keep it open through sheer force of will.]

[applethief]

I don't-- [ marduk automatically leans away, attempting to keep the distance between the two of them consistent, if not increase it. he takes half a step back, loathe to relinquish control of the door to philip, but equally reluctant to be anything that might be considered "near" him. ]

I don't know. Not human? Dead? How am I supposed to know any of that? [ squint. are those even questions people usually have the answer to?? ]

[kyoumibukai]

[Philip just follows him with his neck and body as he tries to move back. His eyes brighten at 'not human' and he smiles at 'dead']

You're dead? Me too! Well, I was made entirely of data after I died the first time. My body was reconstructed with flesh the second time, and I am essentially no different from the living at this point, but it is hard to find people who share that experience with you.

[He cocks his head, now fully shouldered into the doorway.]

Do tell me how your body is sustained! How did you come into your death and your undeath?

[applethief]

[ "me too!" is not exactly an answer he's used to hearing in response to "dead." his brow furrows in concern over what fucking bizarro world the initiative has dragged them into this time; marduk thought they were only going to the moon, but maybe he's just misremembering again.

it doesn't help that philip talks so damn much. having to come up with answers for so many questions (why is he even answering them?) is nothing short of overwhelming. ] How did I come into... I died?

[ marduk pauses, rubbing the front of his neck. um. ] Died, and made a bad trade. Isn't that how it always goes?

[kyoumibukai]

[Of course this would be a raw subject for most people. He didn't remember his first death, and his second was physically painless... He imagines most deaths are far more traumatic. He supposes his own deaths were traumatic in their own ways...]

I see, well, I admit that I made a trade when I died for the first time, but I don't know if I could say that it was bad. It was more of an accident, really.

You clung to life tenaciously, then. What was it you had to do?

[applethief]

Pretty sure they usually are. [ most people aren't expecting to die, right? and most people definitely aren't expecting to do much afterwards, if they are. marduk looks down, chewing on his lip. trying to remember. ]

... I just liked living, I think. [ his eyes snap back up to philip's, expression decidedly neutral. ] Hey. Get the fuck out of my room.

[kyoumibukai]

Some are murders. You couldn't possibly call that an accident, even if the person murdered didn't intend it.

[Philip seems to think that's answer enough.]

That's admirable. Most people don't demand life so hard as to go after it when it's already fled.

[Philip seems to realize he's a step and a half into Marduk's room, and draws back slightly. Not enough to draw his foot all the way out of the door.]

And now you are here... Do you feel as if your time is being well-spent? I ask because I have just arrived myself and as another formerly dead person, I want to know if I'm wasting my stolen time.