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transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

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.

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Normal. What was "normal," under these circumstances? Walls with what look like clawmarks not just scratching the surfaces, but deeply wounding them. Somber attitudes underneath an attempt to orient people in a way that reminds her of freshmen orientation at any university campus, with less excitement at the possibilities of what might happen, and more reassurance to go along with the certain explanation for where they were, and why they were there.

It's unsettling, how firmly these people believe.

It makes it more difficult to call them the kind of crazy they need to be to claim they're drafting people from other times and places into a war on totalitarian dictators. Wondering if she wasn't starring in some immersive reality television version of 1984, Mia surveyed the room. A buffet table, an assortment of round tables, the feeling like people were waiting for the other shoe to drop... it was like some strange sort of celebratory draft feast.

Tablet tucked up under one arm, she shuffled her duck-slippered feet toward the nearest table with something that looked like water, tugging the towel out of her hair. Who drafted a defense attorney into anything? An even better question came to mind. Who drafts a defense attorney out of the bathroom?

As Mia set her tablet down and wet the corner of her towel to start scrubbing off her facial mask, it's one of the many questions running through her mind.

A few simple Cure spells shouldn't have tired Larsa out as quickly as they did--he could only suppose that fatigue was a side effect of being transported out of his home into another world. He tried to shift his mind around the concept, thinking back to the Gran Kiltia's teachings, thinking on the various other religions taught to him. None of them made sense with what happened presently, monotheistic or polytheistic. If this was truly the work of technology... it was a fascinating and humbling experience. Shuffled away, he'd chosen whatever would be the strongest, and with a fuzzy feeling in his chest, Larsa moved on.

There were many other strangers of all shapes, sizes, and ages. Tiny (4'3'') and slender, Larsa weaved his way out of the crowd as silently as he could, intent on listening to the snippets of dialogue that he could fashion information out of.

His eyes caught sight of the scrape on the wall, lifting his gloved hand to the animalistic scratches.

This was worrisome. But first--he had to catch up his energy. Boosting morale was difficult to do when there was no energy to go around. Quick clacks came from the plated heels of his boots as he picked up the peace, one hand on the sword at his side while the other was curled into a small fist.

He didn't even notice where he was going--not until he'd bumped into someone else, and hastily moved backwards while his hands darted forwards to make sure the other wouldn't fall or be otherwise adversely effected by a bout of clumsiness. "Forgive me, I had not watched where my steps would take me. You're unharmed?"

Phoenix has seen many strangely-dressed friends and witnesses during his life. There have been clowns, there have been mediums, there have been men in suits and masks and ~~alien costumes~~ security outfits. His daughter is a magician! But a bathrobe is pretty new. The facial mask is also new.

"They caught you at a bad tim--- huh?!"

Oh crap he recognizes the face behind the mask they brought Mia here.

"--ack!" He coughs to hide his exclamation because wow that would be embarrassing. Keep calm keep calm.

There could always be worse times. Seven minutes earlier would have been one of them, but she's not offering up the obvious. His exclamation and the niggling familiarity of his voice is more interesting than anything else.

Mia turns her head toward her addresser, reminding herself again to try to smile and not let any of the rest of her emotions rule her conduct.

Not that it wasn't tempting. She was standing in her bathrobe in a public meeting. She was going to need to figure out who she could borrow clothing from before too long -- and too long was stretching past the next fifteen minutes. "Did I miss a spot?" she asked, managing something of a smile because she's not guessing that's the cause of his coughing fit. Once she's eying him, it's decidedly strange.

Mia's pretty sure she recognizes something about his face, but was that true, or was she just hoping to find something familiar? He sounds like someone I know, too. But who?

"Yeah, there's one in the middle of your forehead." He... grins. Tries to grin. Mostly succeeds. He stays at the safest closest distance a man could be from a young woman in a bathrobe.

He wonders if she recognizes him. He wonders if she even knows him. Is this the Mia who defended him once or is this the Mia who's still investigating, chasing down the red-haired girl who Phoenix tries not to dwell on too much even after all those years. If so-- oh boy, all the kids from the past have so much he wants to reassure them about but can't. Maya and Edgeworth and now Mia and -- no, no, Phoenix. Don't get distracted and angsty.

He points to his baggy grey sweatshirt. "You look like you might get cold. Do you want to borrow this?"

[ The Greeter leaves Elena with her mind racing, questions both answered and unanswered running circles through her head. Normal, she almost laughs, unable to stop herself from wonder what on earth normal actually is as she turns her head to look at the claw marks that scar the walls.

Chewing her bottom lip she pulls her phone from her pocket, it yields little in the way of helpfulness and does nothing but put a frown on her face. No reception, no way to contact Chloe, or hell even Charlie. No way to contact Nate, but that much she had comes to grips with. He was bound for the middle of the desert and her? Well she was supposed to be going back to her apartment in Yemen, not pulled into another world entirely. ]

Dammit.

[ Hey at least she's armed─honestly not sure how she's supposed to feel about that (sentient guns? Really?), but it is something, better to be armed with a gun that might start talking to her than not to be armed at all. A frustrated sigh and she returns her phone to her pocket, only to finger the tablet in her other hand.

Time to think about what to do next Elena, one step at a time. To leave or stay. ]

[Monsters. Yeah, monsters. As if this shithole wasn't bad enough, now they have aggressive, mutated hellbeasts running about ready to claw them all to pieces. It's a curse-- all of it-- and it started falling apart right about the time Nate showed up. Ironic, yes. Pleasantly so, no. Not at all. Not by a long shot.

So coming back to a decent meal in a quiet space is a mixture of pleasant and unpleasant in equal parts, but she won't last long without a refuel, so there isn't really much choice but to slip in and--

Wait, is that--]

...oh hell, I can't be losing my mind again already.

[ The voice is so familiar to her she could pick it out easily in a noisy crowded room (it was all she could hear over the sounds of gunshots and the blood thundering in her ears as the owner dragged her broken and bloody body out of harms way) so she looks up instantly, half concerned she was losing her mind half hoping she wasn't hear things.

It couldn't be... right? ]

Chloe?

Christ, it really is you.

[It's been a while since she cracked a genuine smile, but this? This earns one. She'd go in for a hug as well if not for the fact that she's wearing a layer of grime and sweat thick enough to ruin miss sunshine's clothes, and Chloe has a bit too much sense(and courtesy) to resort to that.

Easy nod in greeting it is, then.]

I shouldn't be surprised at this point.

[ That smile is infectious as soon enough Elena's smiling too, unable (and frankly not wanting to) hide the sheer relief she feels seeing the other woman. Familiar faces, after everything that hash happened lately, is exactly what she needs right now. ]

God, it's good to see you. [ Chloe's state isn't lost on her, it only brings up more questions that she leaves alone for the moment. ]

How so? Don't tell me I'm the last one to the party?

[ Haha, surely she isn't. There is no way they would've brought the rest of them here. ]

Mmmhm. I'd say last one I want to see, but that sounds way worse than what I mean, believe me.

[There's a momentary pause as she tucks her .45 back into her holster, dusting off a bit of dirt on her pants.]

So let me put it this way: the lads are all here. Have been for some time now.

You've got to be kidding me.

[ She barely understands how the hell they brought her here, but the rest of them?

But─ ]

So you're telling me Nate is here? And Sully? [ The alive? is painfully easy to hear in her voice. ]

[Which Chloe catches easily, of course.

Her brow furrows, gaze flicking over Elena momentarily because-- well, she's done this enough times to know they're not all from the same fixed point, that for all she knows this could be Elena from Tibet, or Yemen, or...

No. No this is more recent. It has to be. The ring's still there. Elena's still wearing it.]

Yeah, of course. Both of them.

Why are you asking, sunshine? [Which is to say, why do you sound like you think they're dead.]

Admittedly, Ico was not looking where he was going as well. Much like Larsa, he was looking at the marks left on the wall. He assessed the damage to determine how much strength was behind the deep grooves. He knew there were more beasts out there. There were more that were probably as strong as or stronger than the one that made its way to the Hold.

The sound of those clacking boots melded in with the noise made by the other Transports and Initiative. It was heard but not noticed. When Larsa bumped into him, Ico leaned his head back out of habit. Almost everyone here was taller than him so he moved in a way that would keep his horns from hitting anyone else. So it was surprising that he had to look down at Larsa.

At first, Ico smiled. He knew immediately that they were around the same age. But then his smile disappeared as he saw that the Initiative was still bringing in children. Larsa spoke strangely and it reminded him of nobility. His head tilted only slightly but his horns accentuated the movement.

“I’m fine,” Ico said. “Did you just get here?”

[ to say maedhros is a little annoyed when he ends up in the hold is an understatement. he's pissed off. all done up in his armor and suddenly there's no way to get where he was going. which is both a good thing and a bad thing. it'd be a lie to say there wasn't some relief under the anger at the fact that he wasn't going to have to fulfill his oath quite yet.

but at the same time, he's really not all that happy about being kidnapped and drafted into a war. he's been fighting for literally an age, and the war just ended. fighting is something he would like to take a break from, to say nothing about how he feels about fighting someone else's war for them.

still, the banquet is a nice touch. it's a good way to ease people into the whole "hi, you're stuck here and we're going to butter you up," bit. even if he knows that's what it's for, maedhros can't help but filch some food and stand in a corner, watching, eating, and carefully balancing a plate on his handless right arm. ]

[Victor was excited at the prospect of free food, but more the idea of not having to cook it. Because of the futuristic kitchen appliances he'd managed to ruin many a meal over the past several weeks. Sacrificing the better of the food in order to make sure Chloe ate well. If he had to eat one more burned and dry piece of meat he would probably consider going vegetarian, and the man loved him some steak.

He scans the room, following the scent of meat, glancing over all the new arrivals. The elves, the tattooed chicks, the petite and unassuming blonde, the guy with th-wait... what? His eyes dart back to the blonde, her back now turned to him, it can't ... really be? He hurries across the room frantically, making his way to her before tentatively tapping her on the shoulder.]

Elena?... Elena Fisher?

[He almost hopes he's wrong... he want to believe she's still safe... or relatively safe in their own world, their own time... But at the same time, what he wouldn't give to have the little ball of fire back with the team...]

[Off to the side of the banquet table stands a female with short, red hair and... green skin. Despite the food next to her, she's focused on the others in the room, specifically the greeter as she leaves. Once gone, M'gann's eyes narrow a bit, though she doesn't move to follow. There's time for that later. For now, she wants to check out those brought in with her, perhaps gain some insight beyond what was told to them.

Turning to the banquet table, the martian picks up a plate and makes her way down, pretending to examine the food. Though, really, she's keeping her ears and eyes peeled for anyone or anything interesting that might be present.

As soon as her plate is laden with a few pieces of food, M'gann turns away from the buffet and looks for a table where she can sit.]

Hm...

You've got to be kidding me..

[ Heather was sick of the world normal. For the past two days (it had seemed like an eternity, really), she'd constantly been telling herself this isn't normal, this isn't normal and if I close my eyes, everything will be normal again. It never got her anywhere. In fact, she'd learned the word 'normal' was just a way to sugarcoat things. To reassure yourself that the changes you were going through weren't going to be permanent. To rationalize things that didn't make sense to you, and boy, she was tired of trying to make heads or tails of everything.

As a waiter comes to offer Heather some manner of hors d'oeuvres, she picks one up and chucks it back in his face. ]

I don't want any damn food! Take me back! I have to kill her! I was — I was so close..

Ico's horns were the first thing the twelve-year-old saw, blue-grey eyes locked onto the protruding specimens. They seemed somewhat... out of place, Larsa thought, on a boy. Perhaps this was a side effect of living within Exsilium? The Mist was different here, after all. It lead him to quiet anxiety as he focused on the words given to him.

At the very least, the others seemed kind. With a simple nod, Larsa went on to speak. "That would be correct. And you? You seem at ease."

And that was certainly different from most of the others who seemed to be just as anxious as Larsa, though some weren't hiding it. He tried his best to.

[ he's never eaten food like this. what he's used to is banquets and fine dining and quite a bit of delicacies from all around Ivalice--and what he's gotten is, well... what's usually referred to as 'peasant' food. Larsa doesn't see this as an insult, and that's a good thing, too--he just goes about nibbling. he's too anxious to eat properly, anyway, and keeps glancing around at all the sights and sounds.

everyone seems so different. it's truly a sight to behold for the diversity he hopes to cultivate back in Archades, or maybe even past the Empire. his eyes fall on M'gann, and he gently cants his head to the side. of all people, really--she... seems the least out of place. and immediately, his fine manners remind him that he really should get up and let her have a space to sit. after all, most other places are full.

he stands with his tray in hand, making his way over to her. he's tiny--barely comes up to M'gann's elbow. ]

You may take my place, should you wish it. I've yet to find anything else available.

[When he approaches, she appears slightly taken aback, though the expression quickly changes to one with a soft smile as she shakes her head. It's certainly surprising to be greeted with such manners by a boy so small.]

If that's true, then I couldn't take it. It's very nice of you to offer, though.

[Except the piece of food is halted in mid air before floating over to a young woman with green skin who takes it in her hand. She appears sort of concerned at the outburst.]

I don't think there's a reason to be hostile towards him, he was only being polite.

[M'gann watches as said waiter scurries off.]

Some of the newcomers my find themselves confronted with a panda in patchy trousers enthusiastically bounding in their direction from a nearby table loaded with food. "HI!" he says to whoever stands still long enough to listen. Yep, he's a talking panda. Have fun with that. "I heard we were getting a bunch of new people here! And here you are! I'm Po! We're totally gonna save the world together! Are you hungry?"

[ She doesn't know if she should laugh or cry, instead she settles for a half hearted exhale of breath mixed with what could've easily been the most awkward sound (supposedly meant to be a laugh) that's ever left her mouth.

They're alive. Oh thank god, they're alive.

─Well here anyway. Here in this place full of people from different worlds and times, christ it gives her a headache just thinking about it.

The question gives her pause, eyes widening before looking to her shoes, before back up at Chloe. ]

The last time I saw Nate... before getting here, he was on a cargo plane heading for the desert. He was going after Sully─ [ A beat, inhale. ] They have him, Chloe, Marlowe's men, they got Sully and Nate went after them.

Edited 2012-10-24 21:41 (UTC)

[Byakuya has been killing monsters, and while he really doesn't like being stuck in close quarters with so many people he doesn't know, the banquet room is big enough that he can find some place to kneel with his sword. Senbonzakura is unsettled, and he needs to try and get into resonance with his zanpakutou again.

There are new people around that he can see, and many Transports rushing to the aid of the newcomers. But he doesn't. He hasn't been here for long, and his skills are better employed right now by vutting up the monsters outside than by helping out people with information he doesn't even have on a place that shouldn't even exist.

But some people's spiritual energies are really, really strange. There are many non-humans there, but he'll be damned if he can actually tell what they are. And one of those is currently not far from him, eating and taking in the scene unfolding in the banquet room.

Byakuya opens his eyes to stare at the 'man'. He's not even hiding it. He's curious. There's power here, but of a sort he's never felt before. Age, too. A lifespan that has nothing to do with that of normal humans.]

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