transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

[initiates]

Date & Time: Sept 23rd, 2012.
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings.
Warnings: None.

You've just been hustled and bustled through mazes of information and literal, wide corridors of the Initiative Hold and you've been equipped with your weapon—be it a gun, a sword, or even your existing powers. They've handed you this light netbook and a small pouch of coins (or a debit card, if you're more inclined), and there are several Transports before and after you going through the very same motions. You can hear the Greeter's voice as she walks alongside large groups, telling them all about the history of this place and sharing with you your purpose here in a hurried and urgent tone. "This isn't standard," she's saying, walking perhaps faster than most of the people she's dragging around. "We don't normally have so many Transports at once. Please, let me show you into the courtyard."

You pass what looks like huge gymnasiums, all with dummies and targets strewn and splayed around the room. Training areas. There are even classrooms, and a few small offices. You're rushed past a large library while the Greeter informs you that you can find almost all your information there, if you've got the time to look—and trust her, you'll have time. You don't spend a lot of time in the bank, and it's a bit of a blur of exchanges with more and more of these strangely-accented and oddly polite-seeming members of the Initiative.

Soon enough, you're in a massive courtyard bustling with all the other Transports. It's not exactly what you'd expect, and it looks more like barracks than anything—huge walls of concrete and stone, separating you from all of the hallways you'd just passed through. It's raining heavily, and dark clouds loom in the air. It's a chill cold, and there are shelters—long cloth hangings that extend from the walls of concrete to house you from the rain, but not enough. Most notably, the courtyard is filled with a marketplace. Even in the cold and the rain, there are several citizens seated at their covered booths and tables. They're selling all manner of their own handmade goods and foods, and citizens and Transports alike are traveling from one small covered shop to another in search of all manner of necessities.

The Greeter's voice has become so faint now, but you swear you can make it out in the back of the crowds as she tells you, "Good luck. Be safe!"

Her voice is drowned out by the busy marketplace, though even the transactions taking place are somewhat subdued. Nobody is overly happy, really, though most citizens can be found with smiles on their faces. It doesn't seem like they're that shocked to see you, either; even if you're not bound in tattered rags and wrapped in heavy shawls as they are. You're welcome to walk up to a shop, and find yourself something to eat—hey, maybe you'll even find something akin to a raincoat. Or, you can join the others under the coverings against the walls. Where am I? What war? She was talking so fast, and it didn't all make very much sense… did anyone else catch it all?

Welcome to the courtyard. Welcome to the Initiative Hold—and most importantly, welcome to Exsilium.

Comments

[neveraskedforthis]

[ So it is a suit. That's really all he wanted to know!! ]

Are you implying that you're not looking to deal with anyone else, then? Believe me, I tried myself. Didn't really work out.

[raisedbybirds]

I work best alone but if things are as dire as they seem, I probably won't have the pleasure of that.

[neveraskedforthis]

[ Tell him about it, robro. He'd rather just hole himself up all day too and keep social contact to a necessary minimum. ]

I understand. Doesn't really help that the majority of people here are - not easy to work with. And that's putting it mildly.

[ INCOMPETENCE ]

Military?

[raisedbybirds]

Comforting.

[A pause. An excuse to quickly exchange resumes, perhaps.]

...Former; Galactic Federation military and police. Now I'm freelance.

And you? Those prosthetics don't look civillian standard.

[Civilians usually like, you know, skin on their roboparts.]

[neveraskedforthis]

Galactic federation military.

[ Oh well o k a y then. But he's already heard about space travel and shit and the suit actually goes along nicely with that, so he won't inquire further. Military on earth or in space, it's probably all quite similar. Same for the police bit. ]

Freelance as in... a mercenary?

[ That's what immediately comes to his mind, anyway. Also wow someone's sharp... there's probably no point to lying and people have seen the blades before. ]

That's because they're not. [ He still moves his hands to rest at his sides instead so they're a little less on display; he seems quite self-conscious. ] I used to work with the police force of my city, too. Then I went into private security. Now... I don't know.

[raisedbybirds]

Bounty hunter. [It's a blurry line in her universe anyway--a hunter could be employed by military for contracts like she so often was.]

I don't think many people here know what they are now.

[As he shies his hands away away she cranes her neck, trying to follow--hiding will usually only provoke more curiosity with her.]

I take it those happened somewhere along the way...

[neveraskedforthis]

[ -- Bounty hunter, well that's curious. A piece of the Wild West in Deep Space, huh. Anyway, if they have something as advanced looking as that mech suit, surely prostheses of this kind shouldn't be anything special.... right? At least she doesn't seem to ask with disgust in her voice.

Now that Adam is assuming this to be a woman right now. Women aren't that tall. ]

People in my line of work tend to get shot at a lot. Sometimes it doesn't end well.

[ He could say 'accident', but given what he's already said... also can they talk about something else. He knows they must look curious to people, but come on... ]

My name is Adam Jensen, by the way. [ Because this is the only thing that should matter. ] Jensen's fine.

[raisedbybirds]

[No kidding.]

Jensen.

[Appreciated he gave both his first and last name, as she'll be favoring use of his last.]

Aran. Samus Aran.

How long have you been here?

[neveraskedforthis]

[ Which is cool with him because he actually prefers Jensen. At least for now--doesn't stop most people from casually calling him Adam, anyway....

Also Samus Aran is totally a male name right. He gives a curt nod. ]

Not that long. But I know enough, if you've got any questions.

[raisedbybirds]

[Ironically, yes. And yes she does have some questions.]

This.

[She flicks the tiny netbook in her hand.]

How easy is it to crack? Not physically.

[neveraskedforthis]

[ Oh uh HMM well Adam is perhaps not the right person to ask, given he's never tried hacking this thing or anything on the network without his augmentation. Can't imagine it being too hard for someone who knows what they're doing though. ]

If it's at all difficult, I imagine only because the tech and codes used are pretty archaic. Especially for your standards, I assume.

[ Pause now why would you even ask- ]

Are you a hacker?

[raisedbybirds]

[Slowly,]

I can be.

[She's understandably cautious around a former Security Guy much less in a setting she's spent no more than a few hours in at best. Either way, his assumption isn't inaccurate and she takes that as a tentative sign to, in all likelihood, get in trouble by testing the limits of the device.

Potential security flaws from something archaic that could be exposed to the UE is also a legitimate concern.]

Curiosity is a bad habit of mine. Mech is more my thing than tech, though.

[She flexes her hand for show. When you have a one-of-a-kind suit you kind of need to know how to fix it when it gets broken.]

[neveraskedforthis]

[ Don't worry Sam, Adam's not gonna judge. Hacking is a fun minigame hobby. ]

Guess it has to be.

[ He's curious himself about the suit, admittedly. It looks much more advanced than anything he's seen before.

... Maybe. ]

What about cybernetics?

[raisedbybirds]

Yeah, a little.

[It's a short answer. Not exactly her specialization but largely for lack of trying as, yes, the technology where she's from is incredibly advanced. Cybernetics have become something of a common staple, especially in the bounty hunting business; by necessity or for the sake of competition. Rip off a rival hunter's arm (or everything else) and they'll surely come back later to beat you with it. Samus has always focused more on taking care of her own needs--her own suit and its unique cybernetics--but give her time and she'll prove a quick study for almost anything that has marries metal and flesh.

If he's asking, either he's bringing attention to the fact he, like her, sticks out like a sore, metal thumb here, or...]

...Are you having problems with yours?

[neveraskedforthis]

[ ... yeah, exactly that.

Just--sometimes. It'd be really nice to be able to go to somebody for his regular check-ups. There's not exactly a LIMB clinic around and granted, his body really deals well with all the augmentations, but still-- ]

... Sometimes. Would you mind--

[ Not even sure if he can trust her yet, but it might be a good opportunity to build some trust. He's gotta. ]

[raisedbybirds]

[She can hear his hesitation. She couldn't blame him at all, but on the same side of the coin, she'd only just met him.]

I don't work for free.

[Trust takes time to build.]

[neveraskedforthis]

[ Ugh, now he's gotta pay for trust building exercises?

... But whatever, he's got enough stolen money. ]

That's fine, I can pay.

[ If Samus didn't look so, uh, imposing, he might try his usual approach, but he'll refrain from that for now... ]

[raisedbybirds]

[A wise decision. She'd never let him hear the end of it if he asked her to fix a fist he broke on her.]

How many marques will a good drink fetch around here?

[neveraskedforthis]

[ YES MA'AM ... ]

It depends. If you're happy with cheap stuff, it's affordable. Now the more expensive imports can cost anything between fifty and a few hundred. Per bottle.

[raisedbybirds]

Good to know. I'll price you per bottle once I know how much trouble you're going to be worth.

[Getting paid in booze, aw yeah.]

You can give me the details later.

[She'll at least spare him some privacy on his problems.]

[neveraskedforthis]

[ That's cold, Sam.

Anyway, good thing Adam has a booze stash. Not all of its contents were acquired legally, but oh well. ]

I'm starting to think the Initiative is picking guys based on their fondness for alcoholic beverages.

[raisedbybirds]

[You can kiss your stash goodbye, Adam.]

I get the impression there's little else entertainment around here.

[neveraskedforthis]

[ Nooooo he worked so hard on it. ]

Well, there's the, uh ...

[ .... there really is nothing else to do. Oh my god what has his life become. ]

Sight-seeing. There's always that.

[raisedbybirds]

Sight-seeing.

[DEADPAN.]

[neveraskedforthis]

Well, it is supposed to be London, from what I can tell.

[ ALSO DEADPAN. Hey, it was an attempt at humor.... okay maybe it doesn't work with her.

Or anybody, really... ]

That's where my list of suggested extracurricular activities seems to end, though.