exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

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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! ]]

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[ Cesare responds likewise, though his is still very much guarded. That is hardly the man's fault however. ]

Even the dungeons of Castel Sant'Angelo is far merrier, I must say. But where have you come from?

Ala-- [ He pauses, frowning, to correct himself: ] Louisiana. Wouldn't necessarily call it merrier, but it is a whole lot greener. And... wetter. There's wealthy people with boring problems... grass... wind. That sort of thing.

[ Yet still preferable to this. ]

Grass and wind are sorely missed, even with the lack of... wealthy people with boring problems.

[ Cesare smiles too, all cheek. For all his family's wealth, he thinks of himself as forever the outsider, the underdog. He steps back now, gesturing for him to follow as he makes his way toward one of the tents. This one with platefuls of cookies abound. ]

We do try to be hospitable.

[ Wayne hesitates for a moment but then follows Cesare, rubbing one of his arms a little restlessly as they walk. He has less room to talk about wealthy people's boring problems now that he is one and has them. Or did. ]

Bet it's harder, having boring problems now. Dunno yet if that's a good thing or a bad thing. What do you think? [ He pauses, though, nodding in acknowledgement. ] At least you do a good job, by the look of it.

[ He chuckles, dryly. There's nothing hospitable about this place, so he assumes the man is simply being sarcastic. ]

Our supplies are limited but if there is anything you require, there might be a way to procure it, if you alert me.

[ He raises his eyebrows, a little surprised. Off-guard, rather. He smiles a little warily, though sincerely. ]

I appreciate the offer. Though you've probably got better things to do than run errands for me.

[ He chuckles. ]

I leave the errand-running to others. I merely compile the information.

Oh, I gotcha. You're the inventory guy.

[ He pauses and tilts his head. ]

What sorta things do people usually ask for up here?

[ He laughs a little more, this time at himself mostly. To think he has now been reduce to the inventory guy. ]

I prefer the information guy. We have a division which caters to communications between the Initiative and those such as yourself.

As for supplies, food is the highest on the list as well as medical equipments, as would be expected.

You do? That's... useful. How'd you get involved with that?

[ Genuinely curious; he may as well file away such knowledge and options for later.

He nods. ]

Right. That makes sense. If I think of anything-- I don't think there's anything I need yet, but I did just get here.

You fill out a form.

[ He's deadpan too. Totally serious. ]

We answer to Saul Goodman. A decent man. I can introduce you to him.

Huh. Y'know, I heard about him from someone else-- seems like that guy keeps busy. I bet I'll run into him eventually.

Uh-- [ He rewinds a little. ] So as the information guy, what all's that cover? Do you stick to--

[ Don't say inventory. ]

... Keeping track of supplies?

[ It's okay, dude. Inventory is fine, just don't call him inventory guy. ]

Supplies are the foremost concern for the moment. Armies have big bellies even one such as this.

[ And by this he means ragtag, largely incompetent. ]

Large missions also fall under our jurisdiction as well as any changes in the Initiative.

[ If only he'd at least thrown in a "with all due respect." u_u

He can approximate the implication and is definitely not in disagreement -- any army that has him as a part of it clearly hasn't done its research. ]

Sounds pretty demanding. You guys always on the clock, then?

[ With all due respect to the inventory guy. Sorry dude, never forgetting that. ]

Aren't we all?

[ He was not going to get through his first day without at least one awkward faux pas, at least that's out of the way. ]

In different ways, but, yeah. Good point. Kind of the deal here, isn't it?

Although even armies are told when to fight and when to stand down.

[ It's probably clear by now that he doesn't have the highest opinion of the Initiative, but he feels a certain kind of sympathy for those like himself. The Transports. ]

What interests you, Doug?

Everyone always has to work harder when no one knows exactly what the hell they're doing. Who wants to be that person who fell asleep at the switch?

[ He looks surprised for a moment, considering the question. ]

... I'm not really sure. You mean here, or-- [ Nothing that is here, as far as he can tell. ] What interests you?

[ Thank god they don't have guard duties or he would be all for bloody murder. ]

Intelligence interests me. Strategy more than crude fighting.

Definitely... definitely. Strategy is one of those things that separates man from the wilderness, uh -- well, in a way. They can strategize but we can do it better.

[ Supposedly. One hopes, but. ]

You must be a chess fan, then.

[ Cesare watches him with curiosity, perhaps more so at the stumbling. ]

Chest? How can one be a fan of it? [ Is this some dirty joke or something. ]

[ He tilts his head. That wasn't the answer he expected. ]

Chess. It's a game... strategy game, each side gets a few pieces like a king, a queen, bishops, pawns and the point's to move across the board so you can capture the other side's king. [ He pauses, knowing he's not really explaining it well. ] ... Trust me, it's more interesting than it sounds. If you want I can show you sometime.

[ He has never had much time for games even since he was younger, but his description sounds familiar enough. ]

That sounds like the game of life, is it not? Capturing the other side's king. The Spanish call that game the ajedrez.

What is the purpose of playing such a game?

It just teaches you how to think ahead. Little bit, anyway. And--

[ He holds his hands up a little as if he's about to drop a bombshell. ]

Some people also think that games can be fun.

[ Wow, what is fun? Can you eat it? Cesare looks at him as if his skin had suddenly turned a weird color. Fun. Right. ]

Such as practice for real wars? [ He crosses his arms. His mother might enjoy games and Doug, whether a compliment or not, doesn't strike him as anyone dangerous. ] Can one put wagers?