attackpatternbattista: (Casual - Did I leave the oven on?)
[personal profile] attackpatternbattista
Let's be honest. Delia's not that unusual of a sight in the Nexus these days. Hell, she's not even that strange or unique, what with people of all sorts of varying unique appearances, skintones, and so on.

A green skinned woman in a simple sundress and sandals doesn't really stand out that much, even with the fact that she's got an eyepatch.

Next to her is her usual heavy leather bag, and in her hands is a datapad about the size of your average tablet, with her tapping the screen on occasion as she pages through whatever she's reading.

Then she sighs, "So here's a question that's not related to anything at the moment--how important is family to you? Does anyone buck the trend in yours?"

Frown, then she thoughtfully adds, "Do you get along with them at all?"
chiron_survivor: (tired of running)
[personal profile] chiron_survivor
It is not unusual to find Adia in the Plaza. She is there frequently enough, sitting in front of a Nexus terminal or fixing herself a cup of coffee. It is not even unusual to find her accompanied by pokémon. This time it's only one, a large bird that stands nearly as tall as she does. It stays close to her seat, keeping a watchful eye for suspicious characters.

What is unusual is the expression on her face.

Adia has come to the Nexus upset before, but this is different. All her nervous energy is gone, replaced with a washed-out, nearly lethargic appearance. She's holding a children's drawing in her hands, staring at it for long seconds before folding it along well-worn creases. She picks at a corner, staring into the distance, then unfolds it and starts the process all over again.

This goes on for several minutes until Bucky, wise bird that he is, gently nudges her with his beak. Coming back to herself, she blinks and looks around, remembering where she is.

"Something... something bad happened back home. A lot of people are... really upset. And losing hope. How do you come back from that?" She looks down at the picture and whispers, "How do you learn to hope again?"
smartass_captain: (Yelling)
[personal profile] smartass_captain
It's early when Jim PINpoints into the Nexus.

Now, Jim Kirk has certainly looked worse when coming to the Nexus. He does have a penchant for arriving here rather banged up for one reason or another so looking a bit sleep deprived is practically just fine for him.

However, he's never come to the Nexus looking quite this furious.

The captain strides through the Plaza with purpose. He's looking for a very particular doorway and all the banners, regalia, and guard desk that live in front of it. It's a place he's been many times. He has a question all right. One half the Nexus is bound to hear by the volume at which he's not quite shouting.

"Where the fuck is Felix Caelus?!"
sweetcandygirl: (Default)
[personal profile] sweetcandygirl
For the past couple of weeks or so, Harley Quinn has been exploring the vastness of the Nexus. She has not really returned to her door (and might have forgotten where she had left it). Instead, she has been enjoying the freedom of being able to go anywhere, and just living her life to the fullest. It is a nice break from reality... and perhaps the main reason why she has not tried to go back home.

And she has been surviving on her pure wits. It is nice to fend for herself.

Right now, she is leaned on a bench, watching people come and go. Inspiration hits and she gets an idea for a question. "Okay! You are stuck in the Nexus, and can only have three objects with you. What would you want to have?"

Does the question have to do the fact that she only has three objects on her person right now (besides her clothing)? Possibly...
iwasforgiven: (coffee; relaxed; nom; food)
[personal profile] iwasforgiven
Jack has been wandering around the streets of the plaza with a cup of coffee in his hand, his mind looks to be anywhere but on the place that he has been calling home for an unknown amount of time. He has a look of worry on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee, and eventually he makes his way towards the park. Taking a sip of his coffee that is in a take away cup.

He comes to a stop under one of the large trees, and he takes a deep breath of fresh air as he looks along the path that leads through a thicket of trees.

"Have you ever felt like you have left something unfinished?"

There is something chewing at Jack's mind from the look on his face. He takes a deep breath, and he looks over his shoulder to see if anyone will come up from behind him.

"And it can be something small, but I'm thinking about something on a bigger level. And one where lives still might be at stake."

[ ooc: Jack is played after the events of Exodus Code. Worry not about any spoilers about Big Finish: Alien's Among Us. ]
simply_suggesting: (Default)
[personal profile] simply_suggesting
What better way to spend a pleasant summer's afternoon than enjoying the gentler parts of the Nexus' Wilds? That's what one particular man is doing, anyway. Dressed in some kind of purple-and-brown regalia, a masked man hovers, levitating in the air. One of his legs is crossed over the other as if he were in an unseen chair, but the closest thing to support is his cape which flows down to the grassy ground.

When there aren't too many people walking the nearby paths he busies himself playing a violin, though his technique is backwards – left hand on the bow, pale right hand on the neck. It makes sense, really, given that he can't possibly press the fingerboard with his spidery, skeletal left hand. The song he plays is at once melancholy and hopeful.

As people pass by or gather to hear, he stops his playing to ask, "If you knew you only had a short while to live – a month or two, let's say – what would you do with your time? Try new experiences? Make amends? Get revenge? Or would you go on living your life as you always have?"

((I'm Slowposts McGee, but I've got today free, so how about I make a threadstarter for once in my life?))
not_the_question: Kill the Moon (lip holding)
[personal profile] not_the_question
[OOC: I currently play Twelve from the flashbacks that happened during "Word Enough and Time", if you'd rather have another canon point to avoid spoilers, please let me know.]

The Doctor hadn't been around the place in nearly a year, until he found himself back here a few days ago. After helping a set of teenage twins through some growing pains, he started to walk around and get to know the place again.

It was the same, and yet different.  Much like himself.  He eventually sits down on a bench, clearly deep in thought.  He's struggling with something today.  He doesn't know the right answer, only what he wants the right answer to be.

And as is his want sometimes, he speaks out loud.  Only because he's used to talking out loud.  Especially since he's been working as an instructor for so many years now.  And well, one thing he's good at is asking questions.

"Have you ever had to choose between your best friend and someone who looks up to you that you admire enough to want to save?"

boldygoing: (Beard: Satisfied)
[personal profile] boldygoing
Jim Kirk enters the Nexus in a mild daze, still a little stunned at the news he's just received from Command. He doesn't look like he's shaved for a few weeks, but his black Starfleet Academy instructor's uniform is clean and his hair is neatly combed, so it's not like he's been letting himself go or anything.

He gets a cup of coffee on autopilot, before finding a seat to really think over what the hell just happened, a look of hopeful disbelief on his face, like he's been told something that's too good to be true.

"Have you ever had a dream job you never expected to get?" he asks after several minutes, looking up. "For those that haven't, if you knew you wouldn't be home for a couple years, what would you not leave without?"
lifemusthaveitsmysteries: (Default)
[personal profile] lifemusthaveitsmysteries
Today was a exclusive presentation for the esteemed Harvard professor in the Nexus. He was holding a meeting of minds or whomever would pass by to listen to his talk about artifacts throughout worlds, and even in his world.

He was wearing his best suit and boat shoes and walked through to a area with a simple speaking stand with a microphone, a projector and a lot of notes.

"So, Nexus... what artifacts do you have to bring to the table today?"

Coming Home

Aug. 7th, 2017 03:53 pm
juststeverogers: (Lost)
[personal profile] juststeverogers
A door opens in the Nexus.

It's the sort of given statement that would be used on Nexus crime shows if they existed in that spooky cop drama voice. A door opens in the Nexus every twelve point six seconds. Steve's never understood those shows or that one man who seemingly voices the narration for all of them. He certainly looks like a newcomer to this place at first glance. Large muscular man with a shield strolling around looking as much like a multiversal tourist as they come taking in the sights of the Plaza.


He's not confused, and this certainly isn't the first time he's been to the Nexus. It's just been a long, long, long time for him.

The place doesn't even look that different and that's what's most startling to him. Waking up in New York had been like waking up on a different planet, but coming back here...? Sure landmarks he remembers are in slightly different places, but that's normal in the Nexus. He clears his throat and takes a few steps into the central plaza. It might have been several decades for him, but he remembers his manners.

"What's the Nexus policy on senior citizens? I was jokingly given a seniors bus pass for my birthday last month and I'm wondering if someone around my age who actually needs the thing might be a better candidate for it. I used to know a few older folks here, but I doubt they're still around anymore."

The last bit is said a bit somberly. Someone needs a crash course in time travel to the past catching up to the present.
dogamidstmen: (Profile neutral)
[personal profile] dogamidstmen
He knows this isn't the forest he's wandered so many times before; the further he goes, the less familiar it becomes. But Gabriel is nothing if not curious, so he carries on. He can hear people, the sounds of life typical of the villages near the castle.

Or perhaps not so typical.

Leaving the woods behind him for the time being, he follows the sounds and the scents until he's somewhere wholly unusual. The people are oddly dressed - or at least oddly by his standards - they're holding small objects to their ears and talking to themselves, there are scents unlike anything he's come across before. He's lived in this area for over a decade, the royal family for generations longer. It's not possible they don't know about...wherever this is.

Definitely not typical. What this place is the question at the forefront of his mind, but he doesn't say it aloud. Instead he wanders just a little closer, keeping himself out of the way but watching with growing disbelief and confusion and just a bit of awe.

How did he get here..?
drake_kent: (Drake - upset)
[personal profile] drake_kent
There is a loud bang of a Nexus door closing loudly. A young teenager male, who is carrying a similarly aged female who is sobbing softly in his arms, looks around the Plaza for a couch.

Once he finds what he is looking for, he gently transfers the young girl onto the couch, and tried to calm her down slightly. "Don't cry. They can't hurt you here."

Unable to calm her, he sighs softly. "Does anyone know first aid?"

And then, mostly to himself, "Why do people bully and insult others?"

[ooc: answers could come from [personal profile] drake_kent or [personal profile] dru_kent]


Aug. 1st, 2017 05:31 pm
grantuseyes: (oh bother)
[personal profile] grantuseyes
If anyone has been in the library for the past week or two, they've surely spotted the caged scholar there. Sometimes with armloads of books, sometimes absorbed in reading one or writing notes. And sometimes uncomfortably asleep in armchairs, across tables or even on the floor, always looking like he's just gone and passed out where he sat or stood. He's usually awake more often than asleep, though, regardless of the hour.

With that in mind, it might not be surprising with Micolash finding his way to the plaza once more, he looks worse than usual. The rings around his eyes are darker, his clothing more rumpled, and if you get too close...he smells. The distinct scent of someone who hasn't changed or washed in far too long. Distinctly reminiscent of a homeless man, honestly.

Micolash looks distressed, twisting his thin fingers and often looking askance with nervous, sleepy eyes.

"Can someone," he starts, his usual droning speech tinged with faint annoyance, "kindly explain why I am prone to losing consciousness since coming to this Dream? It's terribly inconvenient."
bratan: (pic#10645544)
[personal profile] bratan
Adam is kicking back in a lawn chair with an old timey fishing pole resting besides his feet and the line in the water of one of the numerous lakes out in the Wilds of the Nexus. His tactical gear and coat have been chucked off to the side, and he is sitting there letting the cool summer's night breeze blow against his bare skin. With the lenses of his shades pushed back into his skull, Adam looks like he is at ease with himself this evening.

Or is he? He hasn't been in the Nexus since the battle with Khan, and the fate of Steve has hit the Aug hard. But Adam is a master at bottling his emotions up.

"I'm almost forgetting that I need to ask a question. Alright, what's your favorite thing to do when you have a little downtime?"

Adam asks, as he looks at the fishing pole that Rosco gave him for Christmas. It isn't something he's partaken since relocating to Prague, but it feels nice to do something that reminds him of simpler times.
losthunter: (more and more is revealed)
[personal profile] losthunter
There is a large canvas set up in the Plaza today. The majority of the canvas, which is five feet in height and close to seven feet in length, is currently blank. But there is an artist who is working on the first portion of his project.

Hunter has a very unique appearance. A network of vine-themed tattoos cover his face and neck (and since he is wearing a tank top today, those same tattoos are also visible on his arms). There is a large rose bush tattoo on his left forearm that seems to be connected to the vines that run up his arm. He is completely bald. A large silver tree is prominently placed on his forehead, which trails down to a nose-bridge piercing. He has no eyebrows, instead Arabic writing is tattooed along his brow line. And along the right side of his cheek is a deep red scar.

At his side is a large trolley, that currently holds a multitude of paint jars. There is also a large container of rose petals, which every now and then Hunter uses to dip into the paint and place onto the canvas to create a multi-dimensional appearance to his creation.

He also has a few cloths available, so every now and then he can clean his hands, step back and look at the piece. It is during one of those moments, that Hunter asks his question. "Where do you find your inspiration?"
poetwarrior: (Headshot)
[personal profile] poetwarrior
While lots of human-style furniture is understandably meant for bipeds and little else, there is a K'da poet-warrior who is appreciating the chance to test out one of the chaise lounges in the Plaza, its cushion long enough to allow the entire length of the tiger-sized creature to stretch out comfortably, hanging his forepaws over the side.

Perhaps it's frivolous to spend his time this way when there are other things he could be doing, but he's been in the Nexus many times and never had reason to ask a question. That is no longer the case.

"Have you ever had cause to uproot yourself from your home and travel to places unknown, with no intention of returning? Did you encounter any difficulties that you had not expected?"
shinyglassballs: (Default)
[personal profile] shinyglassballs
The shadows are long in the plaza - perfect dramatic lighting for a grand entrance. Jareth's cloak sweeps behind him, and he takes a moment to survey his surroundings. This isn't his first multiversal rodeo. He sits down - somehow his posture is able to communicate "arrogant, nonchalant monarch" even when his throne is a modest cafe chair.

A crystal appears in his hands and dances between his fingers. If you were curious and wanted to draw in closer, you might see visions shimmering beneath its surface.

"If you could... say, magically wish away one thing or person from your life, what or who would it be?"
romeoinabox: ([Cheeky Smile])
[personal profile] romeoinabox
With all of the strange goings on in the Nexus lately, Red's taken to enjoying the show with his feet up and a cool drink in his hand. Being an observer of such things is always more interesting to the Concierge of Crime. The Plaza is a wonderful place to take it all in and on this particularly sunny day, he's nursing what appears to be an iced tea with a slice of a bright blue citrus fruit tucked along the rim.

"I often find myself in need of a nice way to keep cool during the blistering months of summer, and while the old standbys are always there for me, I'm always looking for something new." He lets that thought drift out into the crowd as he takes a sip of his drink, the ghost of a smile on his lips. The silence hangs for a moment longer than is really comfortable as he looks out over the Plaza before he adds, "So tell me, how do you pick your poison on a hot summer's day?" He chuckles as he takes another sip before clarifying, "Do you prefer something light and sweet? Or hard and heavy over ice?"
auspex_caelo: (Stay right there Jim (female))
[personal profile] auspex_caelo
The most recent bout of Nexus trickery has caught Stratos in its net, but a battlemage of the Imperial Legion isn’t about to let a little thing like being turned into a woman keep her from her duty. That’s why she’s manning the banner-draped desk in the Plaza. Since her usual armor no longer sits properly, she’s borrowed a red Starfleet uniform courtesy of a helpful captain, and draped a Legion cloak over it to try and avoid confusion. It also means the good tribune resembles a very confused cosplayer, but hopefully no-one will tell her.*

In between assisting the odd Nexus-goer, LOLed or otherwise, she’s writing something out on a sheet of parchment. When she’s done, she sets her quill aside and spins the notice around so it’s legible for visitors, then rises and lifts her voice to make an announcement.

“As a general announcement, the Imperial Legion is now offering minor bounties on various items and information of interest. Those interested should speak with me, or whichever legionnaire is on duty at this post.”

She settles back into her chair, arranging her cloak around her. From beneath the desk she produces a bottle of brandy and pours herself a glass. “And for anyone else, what are the worst conditions you’ve had to work under? I’d like to remind myself that matters could be worse…”

*Please do tell her.
super_cool: (Because they grant me )
[personal profile] super_cool
Freddy’s pretty sure he’s dead. He’d like to believe everything – the heist, the getaway, the bloodbath back at the rendezvous – was just a fucked up dream. He’d like to. There’s no hole in his cheek, no bullets in his gut, but he’s still wearing the same clothes – black suit, white shirt, and black tie – and they’re still soaked with blood. There’s blood in his hair, splattered across his face, and coating his hands.

He’s sitting on the curb outside of something that resembles the type of cheap convenience store familiar to someone from Los Angeles during the late 20th century. Next to him is an open bag of Doritos, four empty bottles of shitty beer, plus two more unopened bottles of that same shitty brand... and also a welcoming pamphlet.

While he’s not exactly feeling any better than he was when he first woke up, the alcohol is at least helping him settle into a sort of numbness. He opens the pamphlet and reads. Most of it fails to register.

‘Do you have a question for the Nexus?’ the pamphlet says.

‘What the fuck?’ is all that comes to mind. He sighs and rubs his temple, before burying his face in his arms. It's been a long goddamn day. Thinking it over though, he does actually have a question:

“Does everyone who dies get sent here? Or is it just like”–his voice still sounds hoarse, so he coughs into his fist and clears his throat–“only certain ones?”

He tries to brush his hair back, but his bangs just flop back into his face. He opens another bottle. Don't worry, he’s not going to cry or whine about shit. He may be a hot fucking mess, but he’s still a tough guy, okay?

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