The Start of the Storm

[shardofwinter]

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?

❅-❅-❅-❅

((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 

Comments

Re: ❅ Medicine/Illness

[bitterguardian]

There are so many ways Horvath could use his gifts, but ultimately he’s not all that mobile and he has no resources to offer beyond himself and what he has on him. Healing is not necessarily his strength, but magic does mean he has more to offer than conventional medicine. He approaches the medical table with his usual rocking limp, using a cane, which could be misleading. He’s fine, although he may look just a little lost.

“I’m offering my services, I suppose? I’m a sorcerer, and I can do some healing if it’s needed.”

[seven_lifetimes]

Jadzia Dax was one of those people who got blocked from returning to her dimension, when the portal back to Deep Space Nine froze over. And so, she trekked back through the snow and the cold to find shelter.

She followed a crowd of people headed towards the building. And separated from the others looking for help... to see where she could be of most help.

That was when she spotted a familiar Klingon weapon in the crowd. And like a bee to a flower, she follows the person carrying it. She only catches the end of the conversation, but it is enough for her to step forward.

"Pardon me. But I am trained in combat and exploratory missions. Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax reporting for duty."

[eumenis]

Furiosa nods her agreement. "I'm not quite a good enough Blackthumb to build an engine, but I can repair one."

Glancing over at the parts table, she makes note of the faces there and rolls her left shoulder thoughtfully, as if she's thinking about parts for her own arm. "Guess I'll see if I can have a word with them while I'm waiting."

[eumenis]

"You're a mechanic?" Furiosa is quick and to the point, putting a hand on the man's shoulder lightly as if she's trying to claim dibs. "I'm looking for one, whether they are or not. We're going to need some kind of cargo vehicle for supply runs and it's sounding like we might have to build it from the ground up."

[weathering_it]

"Hiring?" Lawrence asks with a laugh. "Like we're going to pay you for this?"

Tamminy scrambles over to slap him on the gut and he gasps as he begins to lose his balance and nearly falls off his stool. The little woman folds her hands on the low table and leans in as she looks all the way up at Palmer.

"Yes! I'd love it if people were willing to brave the wastes for parts!" she says in an eager, high-pitched voice. "You say you're a vehicle mechanic? I've got just the project for you. If you could get a group of people, I'd like you to find me a few particular objects so that I can complete a snowcraft that will help future expeditions. In fact, once you've gathered the parts, I might even need a little assistance building it. I'm an electrical engineer – engines and propulsion aren't my specialty."

She snaps her fingers and Lawrence, ever the Helper, tears a sheet of paper from a pad and hands her a pen. She narrates as she writes, "If I'm going to make a snowfaring vehicle, here's my thinking: We can scavenge most of the parts I'd need from machines within the safety zone, but we really need some continuous tracks, and, importantly, at least two skis, or-or-or something that can function as a ski. Something long, flat, and mostly smooth."

She passes the paper his way, where she's written 'Continuous tracks and skis for snowmobile.'

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Matt had been exploring the place. Getting his bearings, mentally mapping the most significant landmarks by smell and sound. All that got cut short when the cold rolled in, like knives in his senses, turning uncomfortable chill toward deadlier cold.

He doesn't like the physical restriction that comes with winter outerclothes, but it's that or risk losing sensitive fingers to frostbite, or worse. But he also can't just sit idly by when he could be helping, so he folds up his cane and pockets it alongside his glasses, and pulls his knitted beanie down over his eyes.

Nobody here should know Daredevil, but it never hurts to evoke his more helpful alter ego, for himself if nothing else.

"I'm a volunteer," he says, stepping up to the table.

[shieldborne]

Steve assumes the moment of silence is due to this man knowing the other Steve and possibly trying to figure out which one he's talking to, so he says nothing for a moment and simply clasps and shakes hands firmly.

"I...hate to hoard things," he says just as quietly, but nods. He can feel the tension in the Nexus. It's not pleasant.

"I have eight bunks," he says, "but given the space I've got, I could probably squeeze two or three times that many people in place on the floor. I had electronic security, but that's done for. There are deadbolts on the doors and bars on the windows and I'm probably going to go ahead and board a few up against the wind. And it's toward the edge of the shopping district, so probably half a mile of walking."

[attackpatternbattista]

The weapon's design profile might be familiar, but it's likely still a little different than most Klingon weapons Dax has encountered thus far, a bit bulkier, with a slide action forestock just below the rifle's barrel and muzzle. The muzzle itself is wide, with a disruptor projector obviously deep inside it, but it's more open, like it's made to launch something.

Delia herself is shorter than most Orions, who typically stand at around 1.6ish meters tall (That's 5'6"ish, in Ancient Ameriunits), as she herself is around 1.5 (5'1"). She wears a heavy, fur collared and sleeved jacket, a scarf, and a hat, and has a faint pale scar over the eye covered by her eye patch. Heavy pants and thick-heeled boots are the last parts of her clothing, along with the leather bag she's got slung over her back (with a familiar imperial symbol embossed in the thick leather).

Dax's uniform is an older Federation one from Delia's perspective, but it's another welcome site, particularly how well trained Starfleet's officers are in any era, "Captain Delia Battista, welcome to frozen hell, Commander."

This was going to be an Interesting time, wasn't it?

[shieldborne]

It's probably the lost look and the cane and limp that leads Steve to wander in Horvath's direction. Or something about one old man being drawn to another, maybe? In any case, he clears his throat at some point when the sorcerer isn't busy in conversation with Runa and asks, "Hey, pal, do you need a place to stay when you're not working? I've got some space."

[alittlehinky]

"Well...the place kinda changes shape, but it's not too far from the plaza, and there's a couple other houses close by, and enough space in the yard that I put up a lean-to for my stills," he says.

He has, by the way, been quick to move the smaller pieces of his distillery indoors lest they be damaged by the weather, but he's already resigned to the possibility that come the thaw he may find the rest has been looted.

"It's me, her, and two Lokis," he says, and then looks sheepish. "Uh...you met the magpie? That was one of 'em. He ain't always a bird."

This conversation is potentially about to get weird.

[bitterguardian]

He turns to look, and Steve sees an expression he’s probably all too familiar with. It’s that brief moment of ‘heeeey is that the guy in the video?’ This particular gentleman is too polite to bring it up though, and after a flicker of mild surprise he simply nods. “That would be much appreciated. Whatever’s causing this seems to have blocked my way home entirely, and I don’t seem to know many people here, anymore.” There was a time he had friends in the Nexus he could have possibly holed up with, but shitting oneself away for years is not without consequences.

[shieldborne]

"He's my alternate." Steve reads, translates, and responds to that expression without missing a beat. He's not offended, in any case, and after a moment he smiles gently.

"I'm stuck, too. I give it a week before I go stir-crazy." He offers a handshake. "Steve Rogers. Sorry we're not meeting under better circumstances."

[coldsong]

Something like humanity is a good way to put it. A remarkable facsimile, indeed. But regardless, Loki doesn't like the idea of icy monsters stalking the Nexus, for a number of reasons, both selfish and un-.

"Couldn't recover?" He frowns. "Where? A human-sized body? I'll see what I can do."

Partly it's what he says about people on the outskirts. That's part of Loki's providence, though he doesn't say so often. People on the edge of society. Usually not quite so literally as people living on the edge of a more populous region, but sometimes the literal and the figurative overlap.

He's not quite done gathering information, though. It would be stupid to go off half-cocked out of a potentially-misguided sense of responsibility. "...Are there any definitive descriptions of the attackers?"

[bitterguardian]

He gives an apologetic little cringe, because of course Steve must get that all the time, and he feels terrible now for being a part of the problem. Also, alternates can be beyond awkward.

“Maxim Horvath, and my apologies.” His expression of embarrassment is very genuine, but the handshake is practiced and firm, but strategically avoids pressing Steve’s hand up against his assortment of rings. “I’m a bit worried about my cats, but I suppose if people here need help, then it’s better that I be here.”

[shieldborne]

"There's no need." His smile is genuine. "He's a good guy. The other me, I mean. Good painter, too."

His handshake is strong and cautious, the kind of clasp given by a man who knows his strength could easily overwhelm other people and doesn't care to hurt anyone. "I wish I could help, but maybe no time will have passed when you do get to leave, and they won't even miss you."

He has to hope that will be the case on his world, anyway. He sure as hell doesn't want to find out anything's happened back home that Natasha and Sam needed him for. Or, god forbid, that Bucky needed him for.

"You said you're a sorcerer, Mr. Horvath?"

[bitterguardian]

“I meant for giving you the look that you surely get every time someone meets you.” He makes a face, willing to laugh at himself. “But I’m glad your alternate is a good man, too.”

Horvath nods mildly. “A Merlinian, yes. Healing isn’t really my specialty, but I thought under the circumstances it’s likely to be the best thing I can offer.”

[shieldborne]

"I've been getting that look since 1942," he says. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

"I could...use some help with security," he admits. "I mean, it's not conditional. You can come stay whether you can do that or not, but I have a couple kids I'm trying to keep an eye on, and all I know about magic is I don't understand it."

[readvondaniken]

"Well, I won't lie and say I'd rather not be paid, but considerin' the circumstances I'm happy to work for free. It's an emergency, y'know, and I ain't heartless."

On his shoulder being grabbbed, Palmer turns to Furiosa, grinning. "Howdy, it's been a while! Jim Kirk told me to go lookin' for you, and I thought I might find you here. If you're lookin' for someone who can help you build a cargo vehicle, you've come to the right place. Tamminy over there's lookin' for tracks and skis, so we might be scavengin' for parts at some point."

Palmer tucks the instructions Tamminy and Lawrence gave him into his vest pocket. He'll be hanging on to those so he knows exactly what he's looking for during parts runs. He's worked with machines meant for the snow at Outpost 31. This won't be too much different, hopefully.

[volurofthehearth]

"Azwel," she repeats as she writes. "Such a lovely, unusual name…"

Smiling up at him again, she asks, "Do you have experience with frostbite and hypothermia and other illnesses related to the cold? A local nurse is giving crash courses in how to treat them, if you need him to go over them."

[volurofthehearth]

It's the Nexus. Weird is a staple of life here.

Which is why Runa has no issue taking down the odd directions. They'll do in a pinch. Although even Runa is surprised at the multiple revelations. She stops her writing to blink up at Cricket with wide eyes, her mouth parted in an 'o' shape.

"Two Lokis?" Her hand shoots to her mouth in shock. "Oh, and I treated one like a bird! Oh no…"

[heirtothedragonsfire]

Hermoine has to endure Isidor's hard stare and silence for a few moments after she's finished speaking. She doesn't know the Durants are blessed by Ancient Greek goddesses. She might not even know who Isidor is. That just makes the young Durant more determined to spread her reputation.

One more deep breath.

"Go to Jim Kirk at the expeditions table, and Lyall at the Security table. Both could use extra forms of reliable communication, and Lyall will arrange for you to put shields around areas of importance."

[staticandstock]

"Human sized. Dark skin, militaristic clothing. Frozen into the ground good and solid. But I can give you a location anyway. Bearing in mind the Nexus changes so it might not be precise."

Regardless of the issues at hand, he starts rifling through papers - printed out maps and roughly drawn sketches. Loki gets handed a photocopy of a decent sketch of part of the Nexus. Lyall pulls out a statement to get his facts straight before he makes any markings.

"Descriptions are all over the place. From being called ghosts, or simply 'monsters'. They're often either too far away to get a good look at, or so close people are too busy running to look. Knowing this place we could be dealing with all kinds of monsters all at once…" He looks up at the man in front of him. "What's your name?"

[lovesuwithknives]

Well, that's a first--no-one's ever really commented on his name, before. A grin touches his features for a moment.

"Why, thank you--" he's about to ask hers when Ralts nudges him with a squeak to stay on track. Ahem. Right.

"I've some, yes. It could get very cold in the mountains where I'm from. Still, I suppose some reminders wouldn't hurt."

[staticandstock]

Oh, ok. It looks like someone a little too fond of TV decided they wanted to be a vigilante. Lyall hesitates as he looks the stranger up and down, wondering whether or not he should take the offer seriously. In the end he decides that if anyone here isn't serious about what they're offering, it's not his job to correct them.

So, sceptically, Lyall picks up his pen. "Please state your name and applicable skills"

[weathering_it]

Two! Two entire people interested in the same idea Tamminy has! Well, this is a refreshing twist. She looks up at Furiosa with a broad grin and nods enthusiastically.

"Yes! Now, if it's going to be big enough to haul cargo it's going to have to have a very particular design. It will need to be light enough to stay on snow, sturdy enough not to tip, and strong enough to haul a few body weights of goods."

She looks between the two, at Furiosa a little longer than Palmer. "Have either of you ever seen a vehicle with those kind of specs? Do you think you could help inspire the design? Admittedly, transportation vehicles aren't common on my world."