transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

[initiates]

Date & Time: Oct. 24th
Location: The Initiative Hold
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been led to a banquet room within the Hold.
Warnings: None.

NOTE: This takes place during this plot, though the plot log will not be posted until tomorrow. The Transports already in game have returned from their mission to find the island overrun with monsters. The log is set within the safety of the Initiative Hold, however, so while characters will be aware of what is going on outside, they can otherwise go about their business as usual if they choose.

--

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. She looks worse for wear, pale and gaunt, though is putting a great deal of effort into maintaining her energy and professionalism for the new Transports. "I am truly sorry that you came at such a bad time. That wasn't intentional, I assure you."

She leads the way through the Initiative Hold. The walls bear the occasional claw mark as a sign of the misfortune that has plagued the island, but it hardly seems deserted anymore due to the other Transports recently returning from their mission. After turning several corners, you arrive in a large room that has been transformed into a makeshift banquet hall. The food presented is perhaps not as luxurious or bountiful as one would hope, but it is certainly enough to go around, and isn't inedible by any means.

"We wanted to try and make this up to you," she explains. "It's meagre, but we did not have much time to prepare." There are a number of Transports already present, some looking over the long banquet table, others seated throughout the room at large, round tables meant to each seat eight people. The mood is grim, despite the Initiative's efforts to raise morale.

Before the Greeter turns to leave, she is reminding you that it will be perfectly safe to explore the Hold, the courtyard, the housing building, and even a several block radius around it. "Hopefully things will be back to normal soon."

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

Comments

[mgann]

{For now. I still want to see what's going on for myself.}

[ghostling]

[Why the hell would she do something like that?

If her expression could be seen he would see her giving him a flat look. But as the mask covers her face, he can't see it.]

I should ask you the same.

[ghostling]

"I suppose it is."

Ghost played with a seam in her mask for a moment before dropping her hand. She wanted to take it off, so screw the whole secret identity thing. It really didn't seem to matter here, but at the same time she was so used to not being herself outside the Krewe that she just left it.

"A place that is the past of here. Perhaps a different dimension still. This may not be the future in mind for my Earth. Or it might be." She'd need look at the history to be sure but she really wasn't the studious type so she likely never would.

"Big cities with lots of people that need saving from those with powers that would use them for ill." Yup, she's a superhero back home. Kind of.

slides in quietly

[chelicerata]

[ a few scratches and scrapes aside and a still healing, deeper wound stretching from her jaw and beneath her collar, Natasha looks to be in quite good shape -- it's been a busy month, first the attack on the island, the mission in Russia, and then returning to find Exsilium overrun with mutated beasts, but she's almost been glad for the distraction. time passes slowly when all you can do is beat up dummies in the training hall and begin to know each rock and piece of debris along the town's perimeter, so it's been a nice change, getting her blood and adrenaline pumping in battles that are not quite her forte, but she's been able to adapt to.

it's what Natasha does and always has done, how she works -- she adapts, and if she needs to be a soldier, fight a different kind of war, then she'll be a soldier. it's no more complicated than that.

she's in no disguise, even if Clint would've been able to spot her from almost any distance or pick her out of any crowd, no matter which role she'd slipped into. she learned early on that it wouldn't be necessary in this place to take on another name or past, as they needed her and her skillset - she can't say she takes kindly to kidnapping, but they knew her identity already and there was nothing for her to disguise. she's in her uniform, having headed straight for the hold after returning from the outlands mission, and no, it doesn't take her five full minutes to get to the noisier part of the building and find where the newcomers have been lead.

it's after something closer to three that she sets foot in the banquet hall. ]

[ghostling]

She's a superhero back home, kind of, so she doesn't care what people think of her codename. She does kind of care of what people think about her appearance, hence hiding behind a mask and a suit that covers every inch of skin. Hiding the scars of her skin condition. She can't hide her arms though, they need to be free for fighting. She even hides her accent and the sound of her real voice with that mask of hers. "Why's that?"

[combats]

{We'll know soon enough I imagine.}

[mgann]

{You're probably right. Still, if I could just talk with someone who works here...

[combats]

{Most likely they're busy right now, but maybe a native can help?}

[mgann]

{I'd prefer to speak with someone here. The natives might not know anything about this.}

[chittybang]

Asami studies her for a moment. It isn't as if her getup is lacking in intrigue; it's interesting, a cause for questions that might wind up being rude. She does want to see the other girl's face, and when the seam is released there is a little disappointment.

Even so, whoever she is, this has been a nice way to ease into the situation. It makes her feel more relaxed while others have been quite forward. She's easily a social butterfly back home, eager to meet and greet, but this isn't the most typical banquet she's attended.

"Sounds like a busy place. What kind of powers do you guys have over there?"

[combats]

[ Considering the current situation, it's doubtful they would find someone not busy out there. Except maybe... ]

{A guard then? They would not leave their station.}

[ghostling]

Ghost raises one hand, it shivers and shifts becoming clawed with long thin fingers. She examines it for a moment before shifting it back. "It depends and varies greatly."

[chittybang]

"Oh, wow." Her eyes widen as her hand changes shape, and she is unable to help but lean forward a little bit with engagement.

"That's so neat! And you're just born with that ability?"

That's how it is in her world, after all. Not that she was blessed with an ability to bend the elements, herself, but it isn't an issue.

[mgann]

[She looks from the banquet hall to Jacquese, considering this.]

{There's an idea. They might not speak freely, but that's a chance to take.}

[ghostling]

"I...yes, in a manner of speaking. See I am what is considered a mutant. Something in my DNA is wrong and it grants these powers, however the abilities are not always there from the start. They often need a trigger." She lowered her hand.

"Since I was little I've always had a connection with death. I've always been able to see spirits. The rest of my abilities didn't happen until later."

[noble_nate]

“You may be more right than you think,” Nathaniel says under his breath.

Anders had told Nathaniel about Carver Hawke, or at least the little he knew about the situation. Carver had died as Hawke and his family fled from Lothering, killed by an ogre. He had never made it to Kirkwall, nor had he ever met Anders.

A sneaking suspicion was forming in his mind, a suspicion reinforced by the staff propped up next to Garrett, and the mage’s robes he was wearing. The Hawke that he remembers had not been a mage, so far as Nathaniel knew.

He has to tread carefully here, so as not to cause any upset. “Your brother... where is he now?”

[championhawke]

"Somewhere with the Grey Wardens." Garrett is notably cooler speaking of his brother, although even he isn't quite sure what part of the situation does it--that he doesn't know where Carver is, or that he's a Grey Warden, or just that talking about Carver calls up too many half-scarred wounds.

Things are better than they used to be. But still.

"If he's in some kind of trouble..." Garrett would deal with it, like he always did, to absolutely no gratitude, also as usual. But it's an odd question.

"I doubt he's here, if that's what you want to know. We would have heard him by now."

[deadelfwalking]

Merely to ask who you are, and how you are finding this place.

[he does not offer his hand, but he bows his head and shuts his eyes briefly. His voice is as soft and innocuous as he can manage.]

My name is Koltira Deathweaver. I never thought I would see another sin'dorei here.

[deadelfwalking]

[How has he been? That's a long and terrible story. In response, he merely shrugs, as though it is of no consequence--and though he has recently come to understand the value of the few people in his life, he still thinks it self-indulgent to go on about such things.]

I have been ... here and there. [her demeanor and the tone of her response are all he needs to confirm that she possesses her own will, and this immediately sets him at ease.]

But for the last three months, I've been on this island. If you have questions, I will gladly oblige.

[swissarmybow]

Not really. I haven't seen anybody I know, anyway.

[And Clint, being the lone bowman that he is, has been keeping to himself while making the rounds for a reason. This guy looks relatively non-threatening, though, so perhaps he'll make an effort to be sociable.]

You?

hello beautiful

[swissarmybow]

[Clint tries not to smile at her as she approaches. Her being here softens the "where the hell are we and what the fuck is going on" of the situation. Of course, he's more used to the concept of real warfare than she is, but in this situation, maybe she's got something up on him.

His brow furrows as he sees the injuries on her. Sure, she'd been injured when he saw her a little while ago--though not badly--but it's always a shock to see her like that. He ought to be used to it, but every single time he's surprised that anyone could touch her.

Without attracting much attention, he casually walks up to her and gives her a nod.]

Should I be saying long time, no see?

[combats]

[ He grins cheerfully. ]

{It would be a start, at the very least.}

[inafadingcrown]

[It might be easy for most to overlook him, but for Galadriel, he stands out in the crowd- whether it be healer's instincts or a maternal urge, there's something about seeing a child in distress that immediately draws her attention.

The ears are a bit intriguing as well.]

May I help you, little one? I do not fault you for being ill at ease here, but you seem to suffer more than most.

[mgann]

{Should we give it a shot?}

[polar]

[Naga's head moves to rub against Asami's hand, happy to see her too.]

Heh, you have no idea.