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

[championhawke]

Garrett laughs with her: it's a silly sounding title and he knows it, especially with him being a Ferelden farmer-apostate. He sets the cakes back down and casts around for an empty cup, which he fills with tea and slides towards her.

"It's a city in the Free Marches, across the Waking Sea from Ferelden. I wouldn't recommend it, but they haven't kicked me out yet--actually, that's not a 'but', it's more of a 'because'." He leans back comfortably, at least as comfortably as his chair will allow, and shrugs. "And I'm the handsome, charming, devil-may-care kind of champion, of course. I've never heard of this Los Angeles of your, either. Rivaini?"

[whatsupcroc]

"Rivaini? No idea what that is, but Los Angeles is on the California coastline. Hot summers, cold winters, and a whole lot of smog if the winds aren't blowing through the valley." She suspects that will make as much sense to him as Free Marches, Waking Sea, and Ferelden make to her.

Sure, they're all place names, or she's making that assumption, but place names are just more proper nouns when you have no context for the places they're supposed to be in. "Handsome and charming, is it? All right, I'll give you points for one of the two. Maybe even both. Devil-may-care?" She shakes her head. "Now that just sounds downright alarming!"

[championhawke]

"You must not be from Thedas." Garrett isn't particularly alarmed. Everyone's heard of people from farther lands, past Par Vollen and the wider seas. If this place could spirit him here it stands to reason they could do the same with anywhere else.

"And I'll have you know," he taps the staff at his side, lifting his eyebrows meaningfully, "This isn't a walking stick. Try not to alert the templars, would you? I doubt my amnesty extends beyond Kirkwall. Do you have templars in Los Angeles? Either way, I'm trying to stay relatively inconspicuous. I hate angry mobs."

Since mages are mages anywhere you go. Right? Right.

[whatsupcroc]

"Nope! I'm from the States. North America," she clarified, "On planet Earth, in the Milky Way."

No reason to be less than thorough!

His emphasis with his walking stick -- pardon her, his... not-walking-stick -- leaves Collette quirking her eyebrows up and leaning in, staring at the staff. "Why would I tell the templars about you? For one, they've been dead like, hundreds of years. For another, they were killing people for not being Christian or something. Are you Muslim? Jewish?"

She looks back to Garrett, mildly concerned. "I'm pretty sure we're not big on religious persewhatshouldIcallit here in Exsilium. Survival's kind of more important than what you believe. Unless you're a Born Again Murderer."

[championhawke]

Garrett cocks his head quizzically, in one fell stroke giving all kinds of support to the theory that Fereldens are dog people in more than one sense. All he's missing is a whine.

"According to some people, maybe--I'm a mage? You know, cursed by the Maker, probably insane, tend to set things on fire when of a certain awkward age?" He rubs the back of his neck, feeling just a tad awkward. "If that doesn't mean anything to you in your Milky Way I suppose it must be a...very different place."

A beat: "And it'd make my brother have kittens."

[whatsupcroc]

Quirking both eyebrows up, Collette finds herself startled into laughter. "You set things on fire when you hit puberty?"

Clearly, taking away all the relevant details like any true investigative soul.

[championhawke]

To be fair, it was definitely the most interesting detail. Garrett has the grace to look mildly embarrassed, hiding behind his teacup for a moment.

"We all have our youthful--if you were a mage you'd be having the same problems right now, you know. Spots and fires. I have this on authority."

[whatsupcroc]

Still laughing, she shook her head. "Everyone gets spots. You just get the exciting edge. The rest," she concludes, gesturing vaguely to her torso, "Is definitely less shocking than spontaneous fire-setting."

[championhawke]

"You should have seen my father's face," Garrett admits, ruefully, "We were just lucky no one else saw it."

"Still. You don't have mages wherever you come from. I find that shocking." Touche, Collette, touche. "Well, I'd still prefer it if you didn't spread that around. I could use a holiday."

[whatsupcroc]

"Oh, no promises. I mean I won't try, but sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain." There was something to be said for honesty, brutal or otherwise. "Mages are pretty cool. We've got a few who work at the clinic, and then there are all sorts of different magics people work, and some are really scary but also kind of impressive?"

[championhawke]

"Oh?" He perks up considerably--if she doesn't know what templars are it stands to reason none of those particular busybodies are stomping around, and it's always nice to hear someone talking about magic like it's not the end of the world.

"I'm not much of a healer, but I can manage a mean lightning storm. Do these mages have any names? I should probably make myself known. Before the lightning. That's almost never a good first impression."

[whatsupcroc]

She has to think for a moment, tilting her head back and tapping on her chin. "I just met Jac, but he's knew, so he won't help with settling in. There's Ashraf! He's really nice, though I haven't talked all that much with him. Anders too. I don't think Anders believes in psychologists, but he wouldn't be the first."

[championhawke]

"...Anders."

Garrett brings a hand up to clasp over his eyes as he laughs, shaking his head.

"Let me guess. Opinionated, ridiculous hair, goes on about freedom and liberty at the drop of a hat? Unless it's someone else from Andersfel, although if so--I don't think I could handle with more mages from that goat-riddled land."

[whatsupcroc]

"I've seen worse hair," Collette says, "But sure, I'd say he's opinionated. Most people here are! Wait, I've got it." Turning around, she grabs hold of the satchel slung over the back of her chair. With some fanangling, she manages to pull out her tablet. "I'll show you who he is! All the old messages people send out stay in the system, even when they leave."

Bringing up the archives, Collette went through searching by identifier. Before long, she passes her tablet over to Garrett, eyes bright with curiosity. "Is this your guy?"

[championhawke]

"That's...handy," Garrett says, dubious at the prospect of having everything he might say recorded in perpetuity. It seemed like the kind of thing that could get a person into trouble. Probably better to avoid to committing to anything on these tablets.

But then there's Anders, and Garrett leans over, smirking at the familiar tones.

"That's him. Well. What a relief, I'm not alone." He sits back and picks up another cake, toying with it before biting in. "I'll have to find him, I suppose. Knowing Anders he's doing something heroic and self-sacrificing as we speak. He has a serious problem."

[whatsupcroc]

"And you're the one called Champion? Sounds like a group problem," she said with a grin. "You can send him a message using your own tablet. Isaac showed me how, last month! Want me to teach you?"

Her own cake lies untouched, more an afterthought than something she desired to eat as well as possess.

[championhawke]

"In my defense, I didn't pick the name, and it's a long story." Garrett makes an effort to look mildly affronted, but it vanishes almost immediately in favor of interest.

"That would be very helpful of you--do I have to get up to do it? I just got comfortable here." He fishes out his own tablet and sets it down on the table like it might blow up on him, pushing it towards her with a hopeful expression.

[whatsupcroc]

"I want to hear this story sometime. Possibly while I'm well supplied with hot cocoa on the really rainy afternoons around here."

Collette waves her hand dismissively. "No, you're totally fine where you are. We'll turn your clip-board computer on and I'll show you how to write on it."

Reaching out, she turns it on, letting it boot up to the main screen. "Tap here," she indicates, "To get started! See how it looks kind of like a book? It's this image that takes us to the whole message board system."

[championhawke]

"Once we save the day, Defender, I promise I'll tell it to you. Hot anything sounds wonderful."

Garrett obediantly taps, and is actually impressed by how the screen reacts, although there's a sensible voice at the back of his head that says this is probably a bad idea. He never really listens to it anyway, so it goes safely ignored.

"It's not going to transport us anywhere, is it?" He pokes the screen again, experimentally. "Or curse us? I've heard that can happen. From various people."

[whatsupcroc]

"It can't curse you. That's silly! This isn't magic, it's technology. They can look really close, but the principle users of science are very snooty and offended when told science and magic might be more alike than different." She nods, pleased with her own non-explanation.

"From here, you can press right there -- that image is for the list of names. Anders is on there, close to the top. See if you can find him!" Collette takes to watching Garrett with a grin on her face. She's had to adapt to technology here, but nothing like those people who predated computers entirely.

Garrett was a blast from some world's relative past, that was for sure!

[championhawke]

"Dwarven, I expect. Or they'd love to get their hands on it." Garrett nods sagely, although he...actually has no idea, except for the latter part.

"And don't say it's silly, I've never seen one of these before. It'd be sillier not to ask and then get cursed." He lifts his head to grin back at her, obviously--well, being silly.

"Oh--here he is." Garrett taps the name of the mage in question, then stares at the options that pop up. He clears his throat rather self-consciously. "Er--Anders. Are you there?"

He's not actually connected to anything. At all.

[whatsupcroc]

"Dwarves are real where you're from? What're they like? Are they short and mountain dwelling and do they all have beards?"

She watches him use his tablet, biting back a grin as he starts talking.

To no one.

... Other than her.

"Hahaha, no! You're talking a little too early. See, you got his name, but you have to press here," she indicates, "With this image to give him a call. If he's answering right now. If he's not, then we can leave him a message he'll hear later. He's been around long enough he should know how to check and see if anyone left him a voice mail. Go on, try it now!"