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

[obfuskate]

Another transport... so you are not a foe.

[ With that mouthed, he finally lowers his gun, body relaxing only slightly. A potential ally in the midst is far more tolerable than a large robot trying to kill him. ]

Were you recruited against your will? [ Much like he was? ]

[raisedbybirds]

I think most of us were.

One minute I'm in space and then next I'm here.

[obfuskate]

... Space?

[ WOAH, OKAY. His brows have skyrocketed. Samus has officially captured his interest. ]

It seems our stories are a little more similar than I thought. [ He drops his gaze for a brief moment, his mind swirling with many a mixed feeling. ] ... Was your plan to stop the Space Colony ARK from colliding into the planet's surface?

[ It would honestly make sense, all things considered. ]

[raisedbybirds]

[She said it dry enough to leave room for a little mystery but it seems she's met a kindred spirit already. Or at least someone who's not going to raise brows and assume her dryness was in jest.

Even so, his question isn't answered immediately.]

...

[ARC...]

ARC was just a segment of the last space station I was on... and it needed to be destroyed like the rest.

[Not even a hint of remorse.]

[obfuskate]

... It seems you are speaking of a very different ARC. The Space Colony ARK does not branch into any other space station. It is a stand-alone colony that was once maintained by one Doctor Gerald Robotnik, the most brilliant mind of his time.

[ Of course, he isn't about to divulge how he knows this information. To remain on the safe side, he is going to keep vague. ]

The ARK I speak of was on a crash course to Earth. The prototype of the Ultimate Lifeform being created there decided to partake in a bout of destruction.

It had to be stopped... no matter the cost.

[ To that, his eyes drop. The cost, if he hadn't been taken here... that cost would have been his own life.

Honestly, in that moment, he was ready to die. He'd fulfilled her promise. There was nothing more for him to live for, so he thought. ]

[raisedbybirds]

[Oh good, potential terrible misunderstanding avoided. Vague as it is, she carefully files away the names and information as is it very relevant to her interests.]

Earth?

[Still, she's sure she would have heard of--much less stopped something as dire as that. Federation Headquarters was located on Earth; they'd call her in a heartbeat, no matter how strained their current relations may be...]

And... when was this? What galactic year?

[It's asked cautiously, maybe a little incredulously but she can't exclude or discount things like strange time anomalies and alternate dimensions.]

And what was this Lifeform called...?

[PLEASE DON'T SAY METROID PLEASE DON'T SAY METROID]

[obfuskate]

[ Yeah, if she hadn't mentioned that it was attached to a full space station, Shadow would have had, simply put, a very nasty reaction to the misinterpretation.

This woman's technology is unfamiliar to him. Surely she doesn't come from the same time he does. He probably wouldn't have thought so if he hadn't encountered a Sonic from the future, but now, he sees that anything might just be possible.

He shuts his eyes. He can divulge some of this to her and not suffer any repercussions as a result, he's sure. ]

The galactic year...

[ He explains to her the year and the point in time left vague as to not step on Sonicite toes, and then moves on to the next, most important part of this little conversation. ]

The Ultimate Life's prototype was given the name of Project: Shadow initially. It became known as the first prototype Gerald Robotnik created, codenamed... the Biolizard.

[ His eyes divert to the nearest stall, his mind reeling and his voice continuing softly, despite the building urge to stop. ]

It was proven too feral to be handled by mankind, and so it was sealed within the space colony. In secret, Gerald Robotnik created a new prototype with altered designs and abilities. He fully deemed this one... Shadow.

[ His eyes melt closed again, and he stops speaking. He needn't continue on. ]

[raisedbybirds]

[The year doesn't line up with hers. That answers that, but it's only a minor comfort.]

These projects... I take it they were intended to be bioweapons...

[She inquires with a grim, almost personal seriousness.]

[obfuskate]

The intent was to make the immortal, perfect being, and to use its abilities to utilize immortality for human beings. However, the professor had an ulterior motive behind it all.

[ He freezes, his lower lip very subtly trembling, should Samus be paying close enough attention. ]

... His intention was to utilize the Ultimate Lifeform to cure diseases through the power of science, including Neuro-Immunodeficiency Disorder. His motivation was his ill granddaughter, a victim of the NIDS virus... Maria Robotnik.

[ Maria.

She was always so sickly pale, so feeble, sometimes even requiring his and Gerald's help for minor tasks...

Just the thought of how much she suffered, yet maintained some form of happiness through it all, made his heart ache. ]

[raisedbybirds]

Tch.

[She falls silent for a few moments, finding his story simultaneously tragic and appalling. And relateable--unfortunately relateable.]

It's always good intentions that carve a path to hell. The Biolizard couldn't be controlled so everything had to be sacrificed... is that right?

[Even Earth? Or was that the intent all along...?]

[obfuskate]

Affirmative.

[ He growls, his head dipping and his hands clenching into tight fists. He remains careful with his left, the one handling the gun in question, as he doesn't want to shatter the hand grip. (He is perfectly capable of doing that without effort, really.)

Of course, that isn't the only sacrifice they made... ]

They sealed the Biolizard away, as well as the Ultimate Lifeform, Shadow, imprisoning them into a fate worse than death. All of those aboard the ARK were killed...

[ He pauses, his eye squeezing shut so tightly that he swears he can feel just a little water build-up. He isn't about to let that show, at any rate. ]

... yet the final prototype of the Ultimate Life lives on. He has since been released.

[raisedbybirds]

[Hhhhmmmmmmm.]

...And Earth? It survived?

[obfuskate]

Yes. The latest prototype destroyed the Biolizard after a fatal mistake that nearly ended that planet. Project: Shadow protected Earth by halting the Space Colony ARK in its descent. Should he have been uncaring...

[ He falls silent, eyes locked onto his shoes. If he didn't care, if he let the ARK fall onto that planet, he--

He would have failed her. ]

[raisedbybirds]

[She's been kind of suspecting this the entire conversation given his facial expressions, his reactions, and the fact that it's typically only someone on the inside of stories like these that come out of them to tell the tale.

...Except he doesn't look anything remotely like a lizard, even for a prototype. Hn.]

If I were to ever meet this Shadow... he should know he's not alone.

[obfuskate]

[ Yet, for him, it should have been obvious enough.

'He's not alone.' There are many times when he feels he is alone. Many. Once he met Sonic, however, a hedgehog so much like him, and now this woman, that Alex Mercer...

Maybe he isn't as alone as he thinks.

Shadow eyes her warily for a moment, wondering if he should make it completely blatant. He opens up just that much, his words nothing higher than a whisper. ]

You have.

[raisedbybirds]

[That's what she thought. Her brief smile goes unseen and probably for the best; it's very bittersweet.]

He should stay out of the rain, too.

[obfuskate]

Not necessarily.

[ He folds his arms and flips his head away, ears wilting and tail drooping under both heavy emotion and massive water build-up. ]

It doesn't bother me.

[ Yet his body is quivering just a little. It is rather chilly under the harsh conditions... ]

[raisedbybirds]

[Ohhhh come on grumpyhog, she can see that even without her fancy visors and scanners. It takes a strong independent stubborn woman to know one--wait...]

...

[She departs without saying another word, though she'll make it a point to hunt Shadow down again later and place this on top of his head, also without word or explanation. Umbrellas were obviously a popular item right now in the market place and hard to come by, but she figured this would be a bit more practical to someone who needed his hands free; to hold a gun, for example.]

[obfuskate]

[ Oh please, you know he's a strong independent hedgehog who don't need no man.

Shadow doesn't persist after her as they part, but some time later, with that protective headwear plunked on his head, he feels his heart leap. No one really goes out of their way for him like that, let alone for something so minor.

He grunts, his ears shifting to accustom to the new weight on his noggin before he looks over to her, surprise lacing his features.

He isn't about to outwardly thank her, but he is admittedly grateful. ]

[raisedbybirds]

[It's par the course for her too. No words needed, no thanks necessary, and she departs again as quietly as she came.

She could tell him how it brought out his eyes he looked good in it later. Samus has good taste, after all.]