(no subject)

[initiates]

Date: January 1st 8th
Location: The Transporter building.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled through their initial briefings. Then... out into the cold?
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. You're guided through the armory and given a weapon, and though the armory is now greatly reduced, you should be able to find something to suit you.

You're currently in a large multi-roomed warehouse, graciously granted by the cagey and suspicious remains of the organization known as the Initiative. They don't know you or trust you, but they've given you leave to set up camp in one of the warmer corners of this building until you find a place of your own. And if you want to leave right now, step into the driving winter winds and never look back? Well, friend, you can be their guest.

Outside you'll find the wintery village of Exsilium, with most of its buildings permanently buried in snow and ice. There are tunnels underground to connect neighbor to neighbor to marketplace, and most of the people here use them, but you'll still see people braving the above ground weather here and there for a more direct route. They hardly glance at you, should you venture out among them — unless you don't look human. That hologram emitter the greeter pressed upon anyone non-human on arrival? Yeah, consider that very important to maintain good relations of any kind.

Welcome to the current reality of Exsilium.

Comments

[devotedtothecore]

[ Maybe if someone had just straightforwardly requested that certain feathers be handed over, for any of a number of perfectly plausible and banal reasons even one of little imagination could be expected to come up with....

He takes the moment's reprieve to sketch a few lines over the fresh grid, joining point to point until the thought in his head takes more solid shape upon it. At this moment it happens to be some device that might be a poorly bent pretzel, or perhaps a foreign musical instrument.

...ah, he's back again.

... ]

He does not seem to be the most vocal party involved.

[senseandcecilbility]

[Kevin thought that undressing Chrys was straightforward enough.]

That is only because he is a devious creature! Do not let him fool you.

[There is a brief glance at Chrysos' work. What is he doing?]

1/2

[devotedtothecore]

[ Oh, certainly forward. The first half might be more questionable.

It's a rather inscrutable drawing, at least until he starts adding a series of gears and arms to the mix, after which point it takes on more of the appearance of an engine of sorts. A device to regulate water's flow through purely mechanical (one might say clockwork) means, making use of its movement to move other things. ]

I assure you that I'm quite on my guard against his deviousness.

[ Reaching for another pen--- ]

[devotedtothecore]

[ ---that has, yet again, disappeared from its perch.



He wonders if Kevin would take offense to the lobbing of projectiles at Break's head.

(Snags a sheet of paper, crumpling it up into a neat ball.) ]

[senseandcecilbility]

[Kevin, who doubts anyone would ever be prepared for Mister Break's deviousness, is merely watching what is going on with an intrigued look on his face.

Chrys is behaving like a schoolboy, but can Kevin find in his heart a reason to blame him?

He might, he might. It is Mister Chrysos after all.]

[devotedtothecore]

[ A schoolboy who's endured such schoolyard pranks with quite admirable patience, as Chrys would consider it, for a more than reasonable number of instances preceding this one.

He's very calm about it, still watching the people milling about in the warehouse with flat eyes, as he squeezes that sacrificed sheet into a wad so compact, it might sting to be hit in the eyes with it.

Odds of actually hitting his target: close to nil.

...

He tosses the damn thing at Break's lounging face anyway. It arcs beautifully over Kevin's head. ]

[senseandcecilbility]

[It occurs to Kevin that he has no moral ground to chide Chrysos, considering that he has been strangling Break with his very peculiar feather boa a minute ago. Besides, it is not like Mister Break is free from guilt. And so he contents himself with watching the paper ball's trajectory with knowledgeable eyes, half-predicting where it is going to land...]