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

[flagrate]

[ it takes ace a little longer than it should to register that there's a strange dude sitting next to him. but once he does, the smell of food also registers and his stomach lets out a loud gurgle. it's been ages (relatively speaking) since he's had anything good to eat other than. well. disgusting prison food. so when he gets offered the pastry he just takes huge bite out of it because food. ]

Mmm. That is really good. [ SATERO YOU ARE ACE'S NEW BEST FRIEND FOR FEEDING HIM. forgive his lapse in manners as he talks with his mouth full.

but oh right there are things happening outside of his own personal HOW AM I NOT DEAD bubble. he looks around as he chews and realizes he has no idea what's happening. ]

I don't know. I wasn't really paying much attention to what people were saying earlier.

[fitful]

[ satero forgets all about the food that second he hands it over -- too many other things to contemplate. lapse of manners goes totally unnoticed, man, it's all good. ]

Neither was I.... [ but that doesn't matter, does it? he grins brightly. it'll all sort itself out in its own time, he knows. just a matter of time. in the meanwhile, satero finally actually notices the steam, and he squints at ace. is that normal here? no, wait. satero checks himself and he's not smoking or anything.

the obvious next course of action is to reach out and poke ace in the shoulder. ]

What's that?

[flagrate]

[ oh, good. that means ace can just finish off this pastry and go for the other stuff then, right?? ]

What's what? [ he looks down at his shoulder. ] Oh. It's steam. I'm making myself warm so the rain doesn't bother me.

[ he... doesn't have the finest control over what his body temperature is other than "hot enough that cold rain don't faze me no more." so he might be a bit hot to the touch. ]

[fitful]

[ ow man ow. satero quickly withdraws his finger, sticking it into his mouth to cool off. as a result, his words are slightly muffled when he speaks: ]

Wait, hold on!

[ satero suddenly scrambles back up onto his feet. he disappears into the courtyard, but he's back within the minute -- having bought stolen some fingerless gloves from one of the booths.

he goes to drop them on top of ace's head. experiment time. ]

[flagrate]

[ what.

no, seriously. what. the gloves just sit there and ace looks at satero, thoroughly confused. ]

What are you doing?

[fitful]

Warmin' up. [ completely serenely, satero takes the gloves back off ace's head and pulls them onto his hands. he grins when he's done. much better. ] Thanks, heh!

[flagrate]

[ satero, you are one weird dude. ] ... Glad I could help?