tushanshu_logs | Welcome Center Log | August/Sept/October 2014

Entry tags:

Welcome Center Log | August/Sept/October 2014

The city isn't exactly in a lull at the moment, but there is a tense sort of equilibrium that has settled over Keeliai. The Palace of the Landed Sky is still blackened and possessed, the barrier keeping people out -- for the most part. The handful of possessed kedan that still remain inside seem to have given up entirely at trying to chase off those who come too near the barrier, perhaps sensing that their dwindled numbers are insufficient to protect against another full-fledged assault.

There's a feeling of waiting in the city, though edged with a cautious optimism that perhaps Malicant has trapped himself in the Palace, as no further moves have been made. Was everything a ruse? The consoles have been restored to full working order, and surely the Enemy would not have let that happen if it could have been prevented. The summer is reaching its height, and people are figuring out how best to get one with their lives.

For new arrivals to the city, there is a delicate balance between welcoming them and making them feel safe, and making sure that they understand exactly the severity of the place they've come to.

As always, the Welcome Center does its best to provide new Foreigners with whatever they need to help get them settled in Keeliai. From providing them with information on how to use the consoles to making sure they have starter funds, to guiding them through the districts to finding their new housing, to making sure they know not to say the M-name and don't play with the glowing lanterns.

Volunteers from the existing Foreigners to assist with these orientations are always needed and welcome, just speak to someone in charge.

---

OOC: New characters wishing to thread out their arrival can comment here, as well as any threads taking place in the Welcome Center during this month for existing staff or people who want to volunteer!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Somehow, despite the heat, Zatanna seemed about as cheerful as always. Which, granted, could never quite reach M'gann levels of perkiness, but was rather impressive given the current state of things. Lightly humming to herself, she sat atop one of the desks as she alternated her attention between shifting through a few papers and comparing stones for what looked like rather unique necklaces.]

[The fact that she was using her magic to keep herself cool indoors might have had something to do with it. As anybody who entered the room might immediately deduce. Blackouts? Not really a problem for someone like her....]

Edited 2014-08-04 15:29 (UTC)

When Anton walked into the Welcome Center, he was pleasantly surprised by the surroundings. For all that he'd been told he was there to fight a war, their orientation facilities were quite well financed.

The first place he went was the wall with the maps and job brochures. One needed something to do in one's spare time, after all. He took the ones that interested him most and spread them across the counter to have a proper look, one finger keeping his place beside his current word at any given time.

Thankfully the Welcome Center's been kept sufficiently cool between his and Zatanna's magic so he's pretty comfortable here, which is a relief since the majority of the city is a swelterpot at the moment and potentially dangerous for him. When he sees a new face enter and head for the brochures, he speaks up.

"Finding everything okay?"

"You have a very well-complemented facility," said Anton, and then looks up. He isn't a man who looks like he smiles often, but the smile doesn't look at all out of place on his face, and is surprisingly gentle. "I am. Thank you. These are all sponsors of the Center?"

He indicates the job brochures.

Complimenting the Welcome Center was certainly one way to get on Jack's immediate good side (not that he had a significant bad side, but still) so he grins in response. "Thanks! And sort of, those are all the shopkeepers I speak to regularly who say that they don't mind taking on Foreigners as employees. It's not such a big deal now but for a while we were on kind of prickly terms with the kedan. It's much better now. Were you looking for a certain kind of work?"

The spirit also nodded at the pamphlets. "If you don't see something there that interests you, I can see if we can find something else."

So work won't be immediately necessary for practical purposes, then. That's useful to know, and opens up the realm of Anton's needs.
"I've experience in administration and security services," says Anton, sliding some of those related brochures closer to the youth in the event he wants a closer look. "But if there is little enough need to be employed save to keep one's self busy, I can occupy my time in other ways."

He's never been employed by another before. He'd rather be autonomous, after a fashion, but also go where he's most needed. "I noticed some degree of damage to the city. Are labourers still in need?"

"For right now, there's a lot less need," Jack allowed. "They were all actually suspended right after uh, the Bad Guy took over the Palace. But they've since gone back, sort of. The kedan still need to work and eat and live, so it's an in-between state right now."

He nodded in response to the observation of damage. "That happened at the same time. There were bombs and it was used as a distraction."

'The Bad Guy'. That was one way to put it. Anton didn't like it overly much, if only because he knew, quite well, what names Malicant would have been called had the others been present. Larrikin always had taken pleasure in calling people names.

Mevolent's Twin Brother. Malikitty. Mouldy Pants. Malady Of Disappointingly Uncreatively Evil Names. MADUEN. Madden. Maddeningly Evil Person. MEP!

"You've been here a time," Anton observed. "How long?"

As someone who regularly dealt with titles and labels as a spirit, Jack didn't like it either. But at the same time, he had also seen firsthand what using the name could do -- poor Tony -- so he was at least respectful of the threat it posed to everyone here.

"That obvious, huh?" Jack grinned wryly. "I've been here 20 months now."

He extends a hand; his core temperature is significantly raised from what it should be, but low enough he'll still feel unsettlingly cool compared to normal people. "My name's Jack."

"Quite a time." Jack didn't look very old, but age was deceptive, particularly among sorcerers. "Anton Shudder." He bowed and then took Jack's hand, his grip strong and his hand the callused sort belonging to a man who worked hard and well.

Cold hands. Surprising, in the heat the city was beginning to feel. Too autonomous to be a zombie; perhaps a vampire, then. Anton didn't have much against vampires as a group, but he still did not particularly wish to be unprepared should there be a need for him to be on his guard. "What are you?"

Amazingly, perhaps, the question comes out not accusing but matter-of-fact, as if it was only natural that a staff-member of an orientation center might not be human.

Brilliant blue eyes flickered slightly at the wording, though Anton's plain phrasing certainly took the edge off the question. Still, he generally preferred to be known as 'Jack' first and everything else second. But since he'd been queried directly on it, little point in being coy about it.

"I'm a spirit. Spirit of Winter, to be exact."

That was unexpected. Unexpected enough that the surprise and respect showed clearly on Anton's face. The only legends about Jack Frost in Ireland were ones that had come from outside the nation, but Anton was too well-travelled not to have heard some of the original tales.

"Jokul Frosti." He bowed more deeply than before. "It is my honour. I hope this weather has not been too inclement for you."

Legendarily, nearly all the myths and legends were true--or had been, at one stage. Some claimed that the spirits of seasons and places were still alive, but slumbering; Anton couldn't make a judgement. He'd never seen them. Nor was he such a fool as to deny the possibility of their existence.

"Guilty as charged," the winter teen replied wryly, feeling a little awkward in the face of the respectful bow. "And yeah, the heat's kind of a drag but at least I'm doing better than last year."

A pause and then, "Guess the immediate recognition explains why you could see and hear me right away."

Clearly the spirit didn't require to be connected to his own weather in order to survive; that was good, or else he likely would have expired once the heat began. If anything, Frost's last comment proves his existence relied on something else.

"So you do require belief to survive," Anton noted quietly. "There have been many who claimed so, but we have seen none of your kind for centuries, in my world. We are less for it."

"It's... complicated," Jack said with a shrug, because it really was. On one hand, he'd lived three hundred years (albeit lonely ones) without any believers at all and been fine, but he'd also seen the other Guardians brought low when belief in them was attacked and extinguished.

"Just 'cause you don't see us doesn't always mean we're not there," he answered with a smile. "Obviously I can't speak for your world, but that's how it was in mine."

Then he decided to move the conversation away from himself. "You're acting pretty relaxed about this whole worldhopping thing."

"I hope it's so in mine," Anton said simply, and then let Frost change the subject. "I have been familiar with the concept of interdimensional travel for some time," he explained. "A friend recently returned from another dimension, and Shunting--magical travel between dimensions--has been a legitimate, if unreliable, discipline for centuries."

Besides which, panicking never helped anyone, and Anton least of all. Panic led to terror led to despair. He couldn't afford that. It had been a long time since he'd panicked about anything.

"Fair enough," Jack chuckled. "Have you found anything that you needed, that wasn't in your suite when you got there? I'm pretty good with finding things in the city."

For the most part, the items offered at the suite had sufficed--Anton didn't need much. But sometimes someone needed more than what was available at home.

"Stores," he said, unfolding a map. "Where are the best stores for general household items, groceries, medicines, and building materials?" He likely wouldn't need building materials, but it was nice to know where they were if he needed to repair anything.

Anton was displaying a level of mundane responsibility that Jack would have balked at, if not for the fact that he'd grown up a lot during his tenure in Keeliai and his role in the Welcome Center. So he took up a pen and carefully marked various stores with labels.

"Yun'nel is your best bet for repair supplies and he can usually get something if he doesn't have it. Hirtelli can sew pretty much anything you want."

Anton was the eldest son of ten orphaned children. Mundane responsibility was, fortunately or unfortunately, ingrained to the point that it was nature. Not, of course, that he was incapable of fun ... just the sort of fun most people didn't consider fun.

So he took careful note of the shops Frost recommended, though it wasn't likely he'd need to outsource his sewing. He had time, now that he wasn't running the Hotel. "The Palace was taken," he said. "I presume the police station is now the seat of government? Where on the map is it?"

He had been directed to the Centre, but he didn't have the context to place them both on the larger map of the city.

Obediently Jack added that as well, though he chewed his lower lip as he did so. "Right now the Foreigners are... sort of being self-sufficient. Evandau's -- the Emperor, that is -- been keeping to himself ever since the Palace was taken."

"Curious," said Anton. He would have thought the Emperor would have wanted a certain level of interaction between himself and any newcomers, at least in order to understand them--or control or subvert them, if they turned out to be hostile. He bowed toward Frost. "Thank you, Master Frosti. I believe that is all I require at this time."

He tried -- and only partially succeeded -- at hiding the strange expression that caused. "Uh, just Jack is fine. But yeah, let me or anyone who works here know if you run into something you need. Our staff has kind of shrunk lately though, so it'll probably be me or Zatanna here."

"That is a pity," said Anton, glancing around. "A place such as this seems an invaluable resource for newcomers." He returned his attention to Frosti. "Would it alleviate matters were you to have more volunteers?"

Which, implicit as it was, was of course an offer.

"I try," Jack laughed wryly. "Some days it's harder than others. But a really great woman named Pepper Potts started with a welcoming committee... after she left, all I did was give it a building."

He nodded over at the pair of plaques on the one wall... one for Pepper and the other one for the late Ironwood Emperor, who had sanctioned the Center and even ensured its coveted placement in Central Keeliai, a hard to attain piece of property.

"More volunteers would help," he admitted. "We had a lot, at one point. Now it's just two of us."

Anton spent a moment regarding the portraits. He'd seen them earlier, wondered who they were, but hadn't seen the need to ask; but it was gratifying that those who still ran the Center honoured the founder in such a way.

"If you can give me a few days to get settled," he said, "I would be quite willing to help you attend the Center. I owned a Hotel in my world; administration isn't a difficult task for me."

"Sounds great, but you have to promise not to give me grief about my bookkeeping skills 'cause... I've been pretty much making up everything as I go," the spirit chuckled. He got the feeling that -- JUST MAYBE -- Anton might be something of a perfectionist.

Anton smiled. "When I first started keeping records, I was still learning how to read. As long as you promise not to point out my spelling, I will say nothing about your bookkeeping." He'd just fix it up quietly in the background.

Jack gave an appreciative nod, knowing very well how difficult teaching yourself could be.

"Deal. i'll see you later in the week then?"

"You will. Good day, Master Frosti." Anton bowed once more with another smile, and turned to leave.

Brigid is still disoriented. Every loud sound makes her jump, people can sneak up on her and she's ready and willing to run into a corner and hide. But maybe she can find out if Marcus is here. She feels the need to hide behind her Alpha, at least until her senses straighten out.

Twenty-four hours and she'll be fine. Brigid clings to that. Her fingers play with the crucifix around her neck as she looks for some help. If she's here, she'll work. That will be a distraction.

That and maybe they know if Marcus is here.

"Excuse me?" She asks, finally finding someone that doesn't look that busy.

Zatanna looked up from the small pile of papers on the desk. Boring. There were moments when she almost regretted offering to help Jack with certain tasks at the center, except she couldn't say 'no' to him. Fortunately for her, one of the better parts of the job--actually getting to interact with people--seemed to be her latest distraction.

"Yes?" It was an unfamiliar face. Timid. If she didn't know better, she might have guessed scared. Definitely new. "Are you looking for something?"

Brigid takes a deep breath and forces herself to settle for a second. She thinks a soft prayer, before smiling a bit tremulously. "I was hoping maybe you could tell me if someone I know has arrived?" Another deep breath.

"And, where I might find a teaching position." That, she knows how to do. She can teach Irish and history. Well, her world's history. How different is that from everything else?

She's still not going to think about where she is. That will come later.

"Teaching?"

This was always the hardest part of the job. Having to remember as much of everyone's business as possible, in order to answer questions like this. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. The fact that it was actually a good question might have had something to do with it.

Unfortunately, the answer wasn't nearly as promising.

"There was a girl a while back who kept mentioning something about starting a school, but I don't think it ever went anywhere. For the moment, I think you'd be better off advertising private tutoring sessions." She leaned back, bringing the pen in hand to her lips contemplatively. "Have you toyed around with the local Network yet?"

Brigid sighs. She supposes it's too much to ask to be able to do her chosen profession in... wherever she is.

Her finger toys with the crucifix. "No. Not really. I know how to use it, but haven't looked beyond that." She will later, though. "Unless you have some suggestions where I could work? I've done secretary work before."

She'll get to Hannigan in a moment.

It's so weird not being able to hear the woman's heartbeat. It makes her feel very, very lonely.

"Secretary..." Not really knowing much about either field, she wasn't sure how one translated to the other, but hey. "I know there are two major companies still around. Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprise. Both founders have long since left the Turtle--" though she had heard rumors of a Tony Stark being back "--but they're still running, so somebody's got to be in charge there."

If you can teach, you can file. It doesn't work the other way around. And she was a TA for a long time too. She sighs but files the information away for later.

"I was wondering if you knew anyone by the name of Hannigan? Marcus Hannigan?" She hopes her Alpha is here. She wants her Alpha to come save her and make it all okay.

"Can't say I recognize the name, no." Although it's not like she knew everyone in Keelai. "Friend of yours, I'm guessing?"

Brigid sighs heavily. She had hoped.... Hannigan isn't here. What's she going to do? No pack, no friends, nothing. She's completely alone. Even in Ireland, she hadn't been completely alone. There'd been other wolves to talk to.

"My uncle." Better than admitting to having an Alpha. "Thank you, for your help. Can you direct me toward the wood sector? I'm supposed to live there."

As it just so happened, she could. Not only that, but she'd do one better; leaning back in her chair, Zatanna made a show of exaggerated stretching to a small bit along the wall behind her. A pamphlet. No...when she opened it up, laying it flat on the desk...it showed a map.

Hand-drawn, and lacking in certain 'official' details, but otherwise, rather impressive.

"Here. This should give you a rough layout of the entire city."

"Perfect, thank you." Hopefully, she'll be able to follow it. She's so used to following her nose to get around that she's unused to maps.

"I'm sorry for bothering you. Thank you for the help." Brigid hopes she manages to find her way around quickly.

"Oh, it's not a bother. That's what Jack set this place up for--to help people."

Spoken with more than a bit of fondness behind her tone.

Edited 2014-08-18 15:33 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Welcome Center Log | August/Sept/October 2014

Zatanna Zatara | ~open~

1st of August

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

11 August

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject