nexus_crossings | The Start of the Storm

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The Start of the Storm

The god hosted Yule party left the Nexus in the state of beautiful Winter Wonderland. With the snow falling softly and steadily, and the beautiful festive lights twinkling in the darkness, the Nexus is left with a sense of serene nostalgia hanging in the cold air. This peace and joy clings to the streets for several weeks, buoying everyone’s mood as they look back on the past year and forward to ringing in the new one.

It starts in the Wilds, and the outskirts. The cold air suddenly feels like it freezes everything it touches in an instant. Light doesn’t quite pierce the gloom. Gentle snowfall becomes thick and falls hard. One or two people looking for shelter from their uninhabitable homes isn’t too noticeable. People can still enjoy their pretty Winter, blissfully unaware. Pipes freeze solid, paths become impassable, power cuts out, simple walks become baffling in the poor visibility. Soon it’s not one or two people, it’s many, it’s families. There are people coming in, bloody, bruised and scared, saying they were chased. Eventually the kindness of friends and strangers becomes strained. Spare rooms are packed to the brim and the storm that stays just shy of the bizarre torches somehow seems to have a slow, but unmistakable march closer towards a point where the Plaza, Industrial sector and Downtown meet. On top of that, people are complaining about PINpoints acting up or portals freezing over.

Streets are becoming packed full of people with far more problems than solutions. Huddling together and whispering about ghosts and monsters moving about in the shadows. In a place with no government, no organisation, no collaborative emergency services, chaos and confusion reigns supreme. And with chaos, comes panic. With confusion, comes frustration and anger. The Nexus is a powder keg waiting to blow.

That’s certainly how one Durant sees it. As a manager, Isidor is keen on organisation and order. Both things that are lacking in the Nexus at the moment. Groups pop up to help, but struggle to communicate effectively, or work together. Some people get free food twice, some people are still waiting for some at all. It’s madness, and Isidor can’t stand it. Particularly because she, her brother and sister-in-law are stuck here. So, when nobody else takes the mantle, Isidor Durant takes it upon herself to inject some order into this scrum.

In her fur hat and long coat, leather gloves and thick boots, Isidor can be seen directing people this way and that. There’s something about a confident person taking charge that means people instinctively defer to them. She becomes the point of contact quite easily, with people soon taking her direction regardless of whether or not they know her. Under her instruction, people are directed to a building that has tables set up, queues in front of them, and volunteers behind them taking names and telling people where to go. It might still be chaos, but at least now it’s organised chaos.

The question is: Where will your character go?

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((Below are comments for each desk. Tag any of them, threadhop, or post with your own character. I suggest putting your character’s name in the subject to help keep things clear. Comments marked with a snowflake ( ❅ ) have been coordinated with the mods and I as official event comments. The OOC Post is here! If you have any questions, feel free to message me or one of the mods!))

Threads of Note
Medicine/Illness | Shelter/Heat | Food | Security/Crime | Lost items/people | Misc resources/Donations | Volunteers | Expeditions | Planning Table/The woman in charge | Drulb's Deelz | A Ship in the Outskirts

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"Ah, thanks!" Mr. Slick grinned in return, "The fur also helped to keep me warm too,"

He gave a nod.

"I hope things will work out for ya," he gave a reassuring smile, "I remember my dear Al tellin' me the best way to learn would be to have a lot of teachers,"

The vendor's looking over Danny's shoulder now, pale eyes scouring the shadows as if he expects Danny's master to be watching nearby, no matter what the boy says.

"What? But of course there are more. Petty gems all the way to grand ones, and even... black gems." The elf's attention returns to Danny with a look somewhere between disdain and suspicion- in time to snap, "No touching the goods unless you've coin to lay down, boy. Lesser gems, you said? Well then."

He bestirs himself to reach beneath the table and add a twin to the gem on the table. This time he'll nod curtly if Danny wants to touch them - at least enough to verify what he's saying.

"They're full, all right. Trolls, if I remember right. The most powerful souls those gems can hold. Now, I wouldn't take less than fifty-two gold septims apiece, but Caelus has always been reliable with his coin..."

While he talks, generously explaining how he'll settle for a reduced price that's still unavoidably far in excess of anything Danny can dream of paying... a hooded figure pads silently by and - without a break in stride or so much as a telltale jingle - his tail swipes across the side of the table, batting a couple of expensive-looking and likely magical trinkets into the air. Marafi snatches them out of the air and straight into a pocket, then heads back into the crowd. Better take advantage of the opportunity to cause a scene now...

Wow, he's that nervous? That's real interesting. Felix already gave Danny the impression that he's knowledgeable but potentially dangerous. This just reinforces that impression. But for a sorcerer in Danny's particular line of work, potentially dangerous is a plus.

"Black gems...so the color means somethin', too." His expression is wide-eyed and guileless, but the moves back when told.

And something shifts a little in his face when the vendor mentions the gems contain actual souls. The souls of once-living creatures. Not human, at least, but that's still some very, very hot stuff, by Danny's standards. What happens to those souls, he wonders, after they're emptied from the gem?

Too late to back out now, so he just nods slowly and makes a thoughtful face at the price, as if he's been sent to bargain and actually has an idea what to offer.

Then Marafi makes his move, and Danny's not disappointed. He makes a small sound of surprise but waits just long enough for the crowd to close around his accomplice before pointing. "D-did you see that?? That man had a tail!"

The minute the vendor looks, he palms the gems. "I think he took something, hold on, I'll chase him down for you!"

"Haven't you ever heard of black souls and white ones, boy? Better ask your master the difference - if he doesn't use you as a subject." Something about the way he jokes it is a mite unsettling...

All told Danny's probably relieved to see the man look round - and he's already suspicious of the disappearing Khajiit before Danny cries out his accusation. It's a confusing few moments as the elf goes from dismissal to suspicion to trying to shed his cocoon of furs in a hurry. "What? Filthy Khajiit, I- wait- wait, where are you going?"

But Danny's already out of there, ducking through a crowd that seems supremely uninterested in any shenanigans. He's out of sight before the vendor can stop him-much less glance back and realize that, one way and another, he's been had. Danny, on the other hand, will make it all the way to the far entrance before Marafi grins at him from the shadow of a pillar.

"This one trusts you were not disappointed."

At first, it's nothing but the sounds of a real ruckus to Prometheus's ears, but he doesn't leave his post, knowing that the two inside have the situation covered. Besides, soon enough there is activity headed his way, namely a pair of gang members who are determined to cut their losses and make their escape.

Good luck with that, gentlemen.

Prometheus blocks the door, striking one in the face with the butt of his spear, swinging it around and clocking him again before he has a chance to defend himself. It leaves the man dazed and groaning as he staggers back, but Prometheus does not get a chance to hit him a third time in a row, as his companion has come up with an alternative method of evacuation.

The store's large windows had long since been shattered by looters and then boarded up by the thieves. This man, stronger than the other, has ripped off some of the plywood and is leveling his gun at the Titan through the opening.

Quickly, Prometheus raises his shield. Gunfire rings out in rapid succession, but the man is nervous, and only one shot hits it mark, denting the metal and making the Titan swear in ancient Greek.

While the man swears and tries to reload, Prometheus is on him in a flash. He grabs the man by the arm and drags him through the plywood opening. It's unfortunately not big enough for him, so the rest of the plywood cracks and splinters around him. Surprised by the Titan's strength, he doesn't have any time to react before Prometheus heaves him up one-handed and throws him forcefully against the wall of the building. The man slides to the ground, conscious but concussed, with a few broken ribs for good measure.

Then Prometheus turns and catches the other thug by the legs with his spear as he tries to sneak past. He tumbles face first into the hard-packed snow and Prometheus whacks him with the blunt end of the spear a few times to keep him there. "Stay down -- both of you -- if you know what's good for you!" he demands.

All he gets in reply are groans from the man who met the wall, and a whimpered, "Y-yes, sir..." from the one in the snow.

Edited (homonyms!) 2019-03-03 18:18 (UTC)

No, he sure hasn't heard of black versus white souls, and he doesn't want to know right now. Especially not if it's something that could be illustrated at his expense. He'll consult his Encantus later, although chances are it won't tell him much about another world's style of spellcasting.

"It's okay, I'm great with cats!" Danny reassures him cheerfully as he makes a dash for it. And he's all too glad to vanish into the crowd.

By the time he makes it to the edge of the market, he's a little shaky with adrenaline. He hasn't pulled off a heist quite so direct before. Pickpocketing and petty shoplifting, sure, but not while looking directly at his target's face. It went quite well, though, and he kind of wants to laugh his head off about it. But not quite yet.

He finds a place against the wall close to where Marafi lurks and gives him a bright, breathless smile. "You're good. No complaints here. Got what I wanted, and you? You came away with something already. You know I don't have much, but..."

He gets out the coin, tweaking the illusion a little. "This isn't actually gold, but it'll look like it for the next four or five hours. Think you can find someone to take it?"

Marafi is smiling like... well, like the cat who got his mark, in fact. It's a smile he doesn't lose when Danny offers him the coin, but his furry brows go up a bit, ears twitching forward beneath his hood and tail curling upward with interest.

"There is always someone willing to take coins from a humble Khajiit." He'll take the coin, feline pupils widening as he studies its flicker and shine in the low light. "Marafi offers you his gratitude for such a profitable partnership. May your road lead to warm sands, friend."

Yes. That's a fair trade as far as Danny's concerned. He makes a mental note to look up 'Khajit' later, if he gets the opportunity. "Right back at you, mate," he says cheerfully. "Maybe we can work together again some time."

Because now that the nerves are wearing off, that was fun.

"I'm out of here," he says. "Before my luck runs out. Stay out of the cold, Marafi."

Never one for sentiment, he pulls up his own hood and heads for the exit posthaste. He's a lot more graceful leaving than he was coming in. It would be great to pretend that's because he was pulling a clever hustle all along, but really, it's just because his eyes have adjusted better to the light and he's a little more focused.

And now, now that the errands are done, it's back to the Plaza to find Felix Caelus.

An explosion of glass and trinkets scatters across the industrial grade carpet filling a good third of the store with difficult and dangerous terrain as the larger thugs Natasha had been determinedly choking out manages to get a solid hold on her coat and heaves the woman up and over his shoulder, slamming her into the glass encased counter near the register with all of his weight.

Her many layers provide a bit of protection from the blow. The only lacerations she takes are shallow and hidden beneath her gear but the force of the maneuver still forces the air out of her lungs in a ragged bark of breath she's struggling to draw back in.

Instinct takes over long enough for Natasha to weakly roll herself away and onto the floor with another loud Fwump! before the very metal bar she'd been using as a weapon crashes into the spot she'd been laying only half a second before. The spy is getting her feet underneath her but it's slow. Dangerous. Making her a target.

If Prometheus spends time looking inside at the commotion and turn of the fight's tide he might find himself missing how the not-concussed thug is slowly reaching for the gun his buddy dropped into the snow.

Felix is at his station and easily found, though clearly he's been busy in his own way. There are fewer potions on the desk than before, and beneath it a dozen or more open-topped clay pots are stacked. Behind them, beside where Felix is sitting, something silver-blue shifts for a moment. Felix is lounging in his seat and watching the crowd, which means Danny is getting a smile flashed his way well before he gets close enough to talk.

"You've been gone a while," Felix notes when he does reach the table. "Dare I hope that bodes well...?"

"I win the scavenger hunt," Danny tells him breathlessly. He looks genuinely pleased with himself. "Got the full list."

He gets out a bundle of a dozen emergency candles and two twelve-ounce mini bottles of red wine, setting them in front of Felix. "Talked to this little fuzzy yellow guy with a shop?" He tells him. "I can show you where it is. He says we can use it. I promised him I'd ward the windows against shattering, so if you can try not to break 'em and make me look bad that'd be great."

Last, he gets out the two stones he snatched and holds them out in his palm. "And these."

Danny nods hopefully. He's certainly trying to make contacts. If he makes it through the winter in one piece, he may find the Nexus is absolutely the best place for him.

"So, um, can you give me directions to your place? I'll put the wards on the windows before we set up the magical circle or anything."

The shattering is impossible to ignore, and Matt's attention is drawn to it immediately, taking in the harsh whoof of the wind being knocked out of Natasha's lungs, and the faint scent of fresh blood mingling with all the other blood they've spilled thus far. The distraction costs him a solid blow to his ribs, his opponent taking advantage of a moment's weakness, and Daredevil lashes out on reflex. The man dodges, taking a step back, and before he can regain his footing, the masked man is already on the move.

His intended vault over a fallen display case is less graceful than it would normally be, slowed by the sharp pain in his side, but stubbornness gets him across in time to crash into her assailant, slamming the taser batons on either side of the big man's neck. Behind him, he can hear his abandoned opponent taking the long way around the same display case he'd gone over, scooping up part of a fallen shirt rack to swing at him like a baseball bat.

Time to duck.

The batons lose contact the moment he does, but as Daredevil feels the close whoosh of air as the rack barely misses his head, he can only hope the second assailant had been counting on there being another body between his strike and the bigger man.

Felix's eyebrows lift when he claims to have the full list. The Imperial mage leans closer over the table as Danny sets out his finds, nodding slowly, picking up first the candles, then one of the wine bottles to inspect.

"I don't generally care for throwing my laboratory open to the winds," he says lightly, though calling any of his workspaces a laboratory is something of a stretch. "Your friend's shop will be quite... safe..." He trails off as the gems are set on the table. So the boy did find the right ones- ah, and even brushing his fingertips over them tells him they're quite full.

"Well, well. You win, indeed." He seems genuinely surprised, but he lifts his gaze back to Danny and inclines his head in acknowledgment of a task fulfilled beyond expectations. "I owe you four potions, then. As I promised."

"Sure," Mr. Slick smiled, "Mr. Slick's Goodies is in the downtown section of Nexus. It's in the same block where other larger shops are. It's a two-story building. It's a dark green building with a shop window that has 'Mr. Slick's Goodies' written on it,"

He fiddled with his moustache as he thought for a moment.

"Is it clear enough or would ya like me to draw ya a map?"

Edited (Forgot to add something) 2019-03-09 09:24 (UTC)

It's not fine wine, in particular, but it's not cooking sherry, either. It's some sort of California wine, but the bottles have corks, not twist-off tops, so they're classy by Danny's standards.

Danny is all but glowing with the implicit praise. He's even standing up a little straighter. "The guy selling them said they're troll's souls and that's as strong as they could hold."

And a couple other things Danny has questions about, but he'll save them for later. First, he's going to see what he can learn from his own Encantus. "You said the potions are for healing and cold-resistance, mostly?"

"And you promised to tell me what you're cooking, with those," he nods at the gems.

The shattering glass is quite a distraction. Prometheus peers into the gap left in the shattered plywood. Do his allies need help inside? It feels as though his work here is done...

Perhaps not, as he catches sight of the miscreant in the snow grabbing hold of the gun. "I thought I told you to stay down," he chastises, his expression one of disappointment.

The man sneers as he aims for the Titan's chest and pulls the trigger.

Click!

"I didn't give your friend time to reload," Prometheus tells the now wide-eyed thug. As he tries to scrabble to his feet, Prometheus grabs him by the scruff of his collar and gives him a good shake. "What am I supposed to do with you?" he demands. "You'll just run off or try to shoot me again."

"N-no, I w--"

"Don't waste my time with more lying." He drags him to the window, pushing aside concussed man who groans but otherwise doesn't move, and looks in once more. He doesn't want to leave his post, but he might be of better use inside.

"Two story," he murmurs, nodding thoughtfully, and smiles. Dark green ought to stand out amidst the snow.

"Sounds good. I think I can find it from that." He offers another handshake. "Really appreciate it, mate. I'll let you know how it all goes."

"Yer welcome!" Mr. Slick smiled, "I hope everythin' goes well for ya and the wizard fella. If ya need anythin' while yer there, I'll be happy to help out too,"

Prometheus has one of the thugs held so only the tips of his toes are able to tough the ground. No chance for traction or any way to break free other than to scrabble uselessly at the titan's arm holding him aloft. There's a sickening crack of metal against bone as the larger thug Daredevil had darted away from to come to Natasha's aid strikes his companion with the pipe from the shirt racks in trying to hit Daredevil.

Suddenly he's the only assailant left standing with no way out. Before he can make another lunge for any of them, Natasha draws her own pistol and aims it squarely between his eyes. Every detail of her face says she's going to murder him and feel nothing.

"That's...enough." The safety's still on. Her bluff will make the man pause long enough for either of her companions to finish the job and knock the guy out. Natasha doesn't move until he's down but once he is she's putting away her gun. Leaning heavily against the wall while she looks around. Stacked up neatly behind the register area are their missing boxes of medical supplies, still safely boxed up.

Edited 2019-03-12 23:20 (UTC)

A moment's hesitation is all Daredevil needs, lunging back upwards with a solid blow to the last assailant's chin and sending him sprawling. And then there's blessed silence, or at least, as silent as it can be with a lopsided chorus of ragged breathing all around where the thieves lie crumpled on the floor.

Matt's breathing isn't entirely steady either, and he rubs at his sore ribs as if to ease away the ache. Not broken, but bruised, thank God. His companions don't sound too bad off themselves, but it never hurts to check. "Everyone all right?" he calls out, loud enough to reach Prometheus' ears.

And hey, what do you know, the goods are still nicely packaged.

There's a moment of tension in the Titan's shoulders when he thinks that Natasha might shoot that last assailant in cold blood, but thankfully it is all a ruse. Or at least Daredevil knocks him out before it matters either way.

"I'm fine!" he calls back. Aside from being shot at and blatantly disrespected (Prometheus, come on, they're criminals, what did you expect?), he's no worse for wear. Still holding the helpless miscreant in a tight grip, he peeks his head through the broken plywood. "I have a live one here I need to take to security, and another one concussed at my feet that I should probably take to the infirmary. Do you need assistance bringing back the medical supplies?"

Ugh, what a mess inside the store. Nothing to be done for it right now, but he can't help but feel terribly disappointed. All of this for some extra money. If this was a taste of the storm's fallout, it was going to be a long Winter.

"Good. That's...that's good."

Natasha's nodding over to Prometheus but she's breathing just as hard as Matt is right now. At least the fighting's over with. Adrenaline's still pushing her strong for the moment but that won't last for much longer. She wants to tell Prometheus to forget the thugs, not to bother wasting their foo or supplies on them, but she knows how well that went over when she suggested it back at the base. Kirk alone would have her head if she tried it again now. Natasha sighs. "Yeah, take them back. He and I will handle the supplies."

There's enough broken shelving and the like for them to rig up a makeshift sled if they have to. The important thing is that no one's shooting at them anymore. It's been that kind of a day.

"Let them know we're coming with the stuff."

The wine will do nicely. Given who he's trying to talk to, Felix almost wonders if too fine a wine would count against him. The best fruits of summer. Winter is only a time of plenty in the beginning; this seems more the season of working slow as possible through one's stores. But they're not down to the dregs for a while yet.

Troll souls suit him fine too; he might feel a little guilty if they came from creatures he liked. Felix nods and considers Danny: he knows magic involving souls is less... common, perhaps, in other worlds. He's been wondering how his young friend will react as he understands more of what Felix is actually doing. He doesn't seem unnerved at all now, which is good.

Provided he doesn't prove too comfortable with it. But that's a problem for Future Felix.

"Of course." He grins, dark hair falling into his face as he looks up from the gems. Felix brushes it back and points out bottles as he straightens. The potions seem to be color-coded to their purpose as he points them out; perhaps the bottle shape is significant too? It's hard to tell. "Healing, warding the cold away, reinvigoration when you're exhausted- physically, that is. This one restores your mental and magical faculties: excellent if you're doing a lot of spell-slinging, or if you accidentally push yourself too far."

He nods at them all. "Once you show me the shop, you can take your pick." A formality, really: he thinks Danny really does want to see him work, and that precludes cheating him on the workspace. Still. "I'll need some time to prepare the ritual, but as I promised, you're welcome to assist me."

Danny's only a little bit unnerved. If he were a Merlinian, he'd probably be horrified, but no kind of magic is forbidden to the followers of Morgana. Some types are just recognized to be dangerous and/or bugfuck crazy to pursue. Souls are too powerful to be played with casually, at least in Danny's understanding. But the fact that Felix has plans to do something with them is too goddamn fascinating to ignore.

He wants to know. He may not want to participate too heavily at his own risk, but he wants to know.

"I get four?" The way he's looking at the bottles suggests he's really analyzing what he might get the most use out of. "I want one for cold, one for healing, and two for magical exhaustion."

He glances up sheepishly. "I mean, I can wait. Just calling dibs. Do you wanna go now, or should I wait close by 'till you're ready?"

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The Start of the Storm

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