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

i hope i do her justice, then!! it's been a while since i played her straight from canon

[slingshots]

...Man, she hadn't considered a taint in the food. The Boss would yell at her for that oversight, if he was here. That realization comes with a small frown, but she smoothes it back into the unconcerned casual air in a second more. There will be somewhere to find untainted food, she's sure of that much. It'll just be a matter of finding it.

"Sure, if you know where to look." Mental note: first order of business after establishing the degree of safety around here is looking into food. Which she's just about ready to get started on, actually. She's looked around here enough, there's not much to see beyond a crowd of bewildered people.

Well, and this guy, who knows about arsenic and silver, had already considered the possibility of poison and more, and who seems so very irritated by the idea of complacency. He's starting to remind her a little of someone else.

"You been outside yet?" She doubts it, but it's half question and half tentative invitation.

[holmesisnowhere]

"No. Is there anything worth seeing?" But Sherlock's little half-grin is telling, and he shoves himself off the wall. She might be young, but she's got her wits about her, and for Sherlock in this instance, that's good enough.

He steps off the wall, already heading for the exit, though the girl might notice he keeps his path so that he can see the other ways out just as easily. Weaving through tables with a natural grace that's betrayed by a very faint limp on his right side, he doesn't turn to look at her as he speaks.

"So, giant mutated creatures with claws strong enough to tear through concrete. I'll need a lab, samples," a pause. "You're a fighter, clearly, but you're not built to take a hit, not in that getup, so you're fast." Hands go down into his pockets, and he's already taking notes.

"Sherlock Holmes, by the way." That's enough of an introduction. His stride is fairly long, so the girl might have to trot to keep up with him, but he's got a goal now, something to do, and that drives him forward.

[slingshots]

She falls into step with him easily, trailing just behind and to the side. If there's anything she's used to, it's keeping up with guys with long strides.

"Robin," she says, more offhandedly than introduction material. She eyes him as she walks, reassessing yet again. He hadn't struck her as a fighter, he's too tall and slender for that. But maybe she'd been wrong? His analysis of her is pretty accurate. And the Joker was pretty tall and slender, and no one could have called him harmless.

(...Man, she really hopes she never has a reason to compare this guy to the Joker again.)

"Lab could be hard, but probably samples isn't so far off the course." As soon as she sees exactly what she's trying to take samples from, anyway. "Figure most the crowd around here's just gonna hit 'em and call it a day, though."

[holmesisnowhere]

"I can make a lab anywhere with the right tools. A kitchen sink, a counter, a microscope," Sherlock's internally listing off what he'll need. He looks down, vaguely surprised that she is, in fact, keeping up with him. "You up for being an assistant? You seem capable and you have resources, I'd imagine."

Sherlock is anything but Joker-like, if it matters. Everything about him speaks a refined sense of both inward and outward control. Down to the knot of his scarf and how well tailored his clothes are. His movements are easy enough, but like everything else, they're measured, a bouncy gait that speaks of self-assured confidence, but the way he holds his hands, just loosely, says he could turn direction at any second without notice.

The pace of himself and this girl reminds him of something - someone, actually, but Sherlock pushes that thought out of his mind and continues to pace for the door. Ever the gentleman, (at least at the moment), he opens the door for Robin to allow her to walk through. He's watching though, to see if she stops and or keeps going, allowing him to be at her back rather than her side.

"Right, and that's why they're expendable. Certainly it takes care of the immediate problem, but it's short-sighted, at best. I imagine people want to live, well, so do I, so I suppose I'm stuck helping."

oh... i missed a perfect opportunity to use this icon last tag

[slingshots]

"Sure. All that and a resumé, too." Not that she... expects her resumé of sidekick to a guy in a black cape to count for much in a world with no Gotham on the map, about a million years after Batman's time, but she's confident experience will speak for itself.

She moves through the door, because polite's polite and there's no reason to think he's going to pull out a dagger the instant her back's turned — but she does pause on the other side, twisted just far enough to indicate that the lead is for him to take, not her. Part instinct, part wariness.

"Gee, nice motive you got there." Sarcasm, sure, but it's true. She's starting to get a pretty firm idea that this is a guy she wants on her side, and if he's already found motivation to help out, then what's there to do but be glad for it? Well, and tag along, of course. She's so not missing any of this.

The height difference is probably close, haha.

[holmesisnowhere]

Sherlock doesn't miss the exchange - he takes the lead easily, long strides leading him down hallways - he's apparently got a perfect map of the place in his head. Looking down to Robin, he considers her face for a long couple of moments, considers the sarcasm, the bitter edge to her voice. "Am I supposed to care?" he asks. There's no irritation in his tone, Sherlock's genuinely curious.

He stops at the door to the outside world, yanking the door open and striding through it with authoritative grace, coat fluttering behind him. What can be so bad, then?

Oh.

Apparently this.

Sherlock's mouth drops open slightly, but he's quick to recover, remarking in a neutral tone. "This is supposed to be London?"

[slingshots]

The answer is definitely "yes", to whether or not he's supposed to care, but there's no good in saying so. If he doesn't care about people, it's not likely informing him he should is going to change anything. So she glances up at him as he asks it, but says nothing. And shortly after, there's the outside world to distract her pretty thoroughly, anyway.

"Like what they did with the place. Aces on the future vibe." She slips out around him, pulling out her tablet as she goes. There'd been a map she'd found earlier, and it's that she pulls up now.

"Edge of the safe zone's marked this way," she reports, and starts forward toward it.