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

[paracosmic]

[she gives a short nod, sighing. this was not what she meant by 'escaping' when she had spoken to the wise man.]

Yes. You, too?

[lessismore]

[A nod.]

Came in with this batch. [Alex takes a moment to regard this woman. She's what he would assume society would deem 'pretty' or 'beautiful', but that matters little to him at this point. For a brief second, he's reminded of that Karen woman from his world, and his mood turns just a little darker.]

You believe what they're saying?

[paracosmic]

[babydoll studies him, her eyes showing a kind of soft understanding of his bitterness, of the same wanting to leave that she has.]

I want to.

[lessismore]

[Alex narrows his eyes. Is this woman one of those hopeless dreamers? He's beginning to think so.]

Why?

[paracosmic]

[oh, she was more of a dreamer than he knew. a hopeless one, however, was not something that she was.]

Because I don't. They're hiding something, and it's probably worse than what they're telling us.

[lessismore]

[He seems to like that answer better. At least he's not the only one who finds the whole ordeal to be suspicious, if not outright vague. Still, he'll stick to asking questions; he'd rather his own opinions remain private for the moment.]

And are you willing to fight?

[What he means is "can you fight?", but being socially adept isn't one of his strengths.]

[paracosmic]

Always.

[and there's a certain little spark in her eyes when she answers.]

[lessismore]

[Alex catches that, yes. There's at least some measure of fight within her, not that he particularly cares either way. But it's good to know the Initiative seem to know who they're bringing in, if anything.]

Then I suppose you'll do fine.