exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

Date: November 1st
Location: The Observatory.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Observatory after their initial briefings. The zombie plot will not spill over into this area, this area is safe and unaffected! To face zombies, characters must leave the area, and please move to the event log with those threads.
Warnings: None.

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, solemn and taciturn. 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, or tells you that the DITR's greeters will explain everything. On the tablet, 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. It's night outside the great wide windows, and the lunar landscape isn't much to look at right now; the only lighting comes from dull red emergency lights, but there are… noises. Listen carefully. Over the voices of your fellow Transports, now and then you might catch the sound of a scrape, or a low and muffled cry. It doesn't sound human. Are there animals up here?

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, and to the remains of Exsilium.

[[ ooc; As a note for players of current characters: please keep your root comments confined to the various groups and organizations that set up root comments to greet new characters! We highly encourage tagging around here, but since it's a log meant for new characters specifically, we ask that they be the ones to set up root threads to the entry. Thank you, and happy playing! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Whoops. That's right, isn't it -- people can hear you when you talk to yourself outloud. Damn. ]

Uh -- yeah -- no -- sorry. I'm sure you're not, I know I'm not.

[ Apparently. It's not like he ever does anything that might lead him to hallucinate except for just that one time. And even that was some time ago. ]

I just sort of wish I was, it'd mean I could go back to my real life when I was done.

Don't quote me, but I think this is the part where someone swoops in and says some bullshit like, "This is your real life, now."

[ delivered with a healthy dose of finger quotes with a side of eyeroll. because, honestly, that's about the last thing she wants to hear.

second-to-last, if she really thinks about it. but she chooses not to. she can't say she's thrilled to find herself in space (and what is that ungodly scraping?), but it's better than being a crumpled heap on the floor with her neck split open.

this isn't the last thing she wants to hear, at all. ]

If you'll forgive the one-liner.

[ He raises his eyebrows, resisting the urge to roll his own eyes or wring his hands together in exasperation and instead managing a half-hearted sort of smirk.

All things considered, conversation with another person is more reassuring than being stuck inside his own thoughts, so he's glad for it even if it isn't exactly comforting. But then: it is sort of a shit situation in his opinion, why even pretend otherwise? ]

I won't quote you, but it seems like you just became that person. At least for me you did.

But I'll also forgive you. Kind of pointless to worry about cliches when you're suddenly trapped in one.

[ well shit. a beat. ] Sorry about that. Somebody had to.

[ so, honestly, she's just going to take it as a source of pride. why yes, yes, she will be the bearer of bad news, and wear that badge with honor - and, perhaps, when the time of adjustment comes, glee. after all, best to get it out of the way as soon as possible, right? as soon as the franticness dies down, actual business can begin. ]

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm not: you weren't expecting this either.

It's okay. Person's gotta take every last reminder of reality he can get sometimes, y'know? In these uncertain times.

[ Desperate times, etc. and so forth, and Wayne can always appreciate a little bluntness when it's not horrifying. Hers is kind of charming, actually, in a way that reminds him enough of Dahlia to be familiar but not enough to be depressing.

He shakes his head. ]

Yeah. I mean, no-- I wasn't. If I was going to be somewhere I'd at least have picked a place that had an open bar.

Oh, Jesus Christ, tell me about it.

[ she squints around at that, looking for some semblance of alcohol, because that is right up her alley. there are things one can be drunk enough to deal with, and she wonders if being on the moon is, in fact, one of those things. ]

Cookies are cute. But not quite the same.

But hey, I guess it's great that they're not feeding us any of that dehydrated shit.

No... maybe if they had those little rum raisins. Just to take the edge off. But it is the thought that counts.

[ Wayne isn't much of a drinker, but he could sure use something about now. He hasn't even given much thought to whatever else there must be to eat onboard. Tang? Astronaut ice cream?

What a horrible thought. Anyway, better to act professional. ]

So, what do you do when you're not in space?

I'd probably kill for a mint julep, personally, but I'd take what I can get.

[ which, honestly, can't be had in cookie or lollipops, so for now, it has to remain wishful thinking.

but they're in space. stars. there's got to be enough shooting stars to make that a reality, right? it totally makes sense.

either way, at the question, she straightens with a slight swell of pride. ]

I'm a doctor. A psychiatrist. [ mostly. ] Doctor Julia Hoffman, Mister...?

Uh-- Rich. Doug Rich.

[ He straightens his shoulders a little too, though it's not with the same kind of practiced accomplishment but rather just a matched movement. We're all professionals here, right. ]

I'm a lawyer. Which means between the two of us you'll probably be the useful one, up here. People always need doctors.

Oh, of course. I'm sure the PTSD dripping off of these people is fascinating.

[ ghosts she's dealt with. theoretically, of course; one couldn't go into collinwood and not be bombarded with ghost stories, what with the way they practically dangled from the walls. space, however, is a different story. how many of the b-movies are true? ]

What, you're not gonna try to sue these "Initiative" bastards? This is basically kidnapping, isn't it? Someone'll want to open a case.

[ He smiles a little bitterly and shakes his head. ]

Not that kind of lawyer. [ Or even a real, certified one, but: details. ] Actually I do defense, so it's better for everyone if I don't touch the case at all. Not even sure law counts in space... sort of like international waters.

... The what?

[ PTSD? Uh oh his ignorance is showing. ]