nexus_crossings | The Start of the Storm

Entry tags:

event

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?

❅-❅-❅-❅

((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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a mess of recycled mechanical junk piling up around a rather low-sitting table for two. Behind it is a large-eyed, pink-haired gnomish woman about half the size of the one-armed human man in a tall stool next to her. A few might know her as Dr. Tamminy Photovolt, but the rest can read her very helpful stick-on nametag. The grouchy-looking, tired man beside her ('Lawrence - Helper') looks anything but. (

weathering_it)

Tamminy turns now and then to rifle through the pieces of equipment she's already been given, while every few minutes Lawrence cups his hand near his mouth and calls, "Lookin' for spare parts! Mechanical parts! Resources, donations, things that need fixed!"

Palmer comes up to introduce himself, coming to see Tamminy and Lawrence first. He's not terribly intimidated by Lawrence - he's dealt with grumpy people before, but it's Tamminy he approaches. "I'm Jim Palmer of Outpost 31 - I was sent here by Volunteering. I'm a mechanic, vehicles a specialty but I'm by no means limited to them."

He moves on to business. "I heard you two were hirin'. If you're looking for somebody who can do scavenging runs or put things together, I might just be your man."

"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."

"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.'

"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.

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."

Furiosa looks terribly serious today, but for the kind of greeting she's getting, she has a small, friendly smile for both Palmer and Tamminy. "Okay, good. I'm used to runs in the desert; honestly, snow is a new one on me, but the basic issues are soft ground and high winds, and that I can handle."

Glancing at the woman, she offers a handclasp. "I can help. The winds are vicious out there; you're going to want something low to the ground. Probably something wide, for cargo, and with a low profile. But you're going to need to keep defense in mind, too. Some kind of fore and aft perches for lookouts, at least. If there aren't people ready to loot supply lines yet, if this weather keeps up, there will be."

"Yeah, I've seen some vehicles like that back home in my world. I work in an Antarctic outpost over there, so I'm used to dealin' with cold weather. I can draw up a sketch of the kinda machine I've seen at Outpost 31 as a kind of starting point," Palmer explains.

"But Furiosa's got some great ideas, too. I like the way you think. The basic idea of what we need seems sound. We're gonna have to keep a lookout for thieves. Desperate times make desperate people and all that." Palmer used to be a small-time thief in his world, so he doesn't completely condemn the looters. He knows how it feels to be desperate enough to steal. Still, nobody wants to be stolen from.

Edited 2019-01-04 17:15 (UTC)

"Ohhhh," Tamminy says, pointing at Furiosa as she begins to nod. "You're thinking much bigger than I was! More soundly, too. We'll make it broad and low, and we'll give it ample room. Yeah, yeah! Lawrence! Are you writing this down?"

Lawrence, very clearly Not Writing This Down grunts, "Yep."

Tamminy doesn't look his way but takes him at his word. "Great! So, this means you two will have to get ample supplies if we're scaling this thing up. I'll start drawing up some potential specs. Jim--" and then she pauses as she looks to Furiosa. "I don't think I caught your name? But whoever you are, both of you, stay safe out in the wastes, and come back to me with whatever you bring back."

Oh, hey, she picked a good mechanic to call dibs on! Furiosa flashes a sharp grin at Palmer. "We don't get snow in the Wasteland, but I'd like to see your sketches."

She raises an eyebrow at Lawrence, because when a woman tells you to write shit down, it's her personal feeling that you should be doing it. But she's also not in charge at this table, per se, so she won't interfere.

"Furiosa," she tells the woman with a little nod and a reserved smile. "We'll see what we can do."

"Sounds like you're with me, Jim Palmer," she tells him. "Can you fight, if you have to, or do you need me to cover your six?"

After a while (and a steady stream of people over by the expeditions table--Jim Kirk is still talking to refugees and volunteers alike and pouring over his maps) Palmer will be approached again, this time by Katsuya. In his arms is a fully packed satchel with all manner of gear that wouldn't fit inside it's full seams hung off of it instead including one of the radios from Captain Kirk's station, and a small pickaxe from the security station.

"A day's worth of rations, blanket, water, rope, and two flares are inside. The medical station is making snow shoes if you're needing a pair. I've got two others to gear up. One of our scouts reported in about a downed ship near the outskirts that might have people stuck or supplies we could make use of."

There's so many people coming and going (as shelters are assigned and people are moved) that one face looks much like any other after a while. A woman waits patiently in line with her hand on a girl's shoulder. She looks tired--the journey here must have been rough. The girl who looks a bit too old to be the woman's daughter but awfully young to be a sister carries a wicker basket in her arms and beams when they make it to the front of the line.

"Tina here has something she'd like to donate. Made them herself. She's rather proud." Hazel doesn't need to nudge the girl forward--she hops in front of Tamminy all of her own accord and opens up the basket for the gnome to peer inside.

That.

Is a lot of explosives.

Tamminy smiles pleasantly when the two approach. How generous, how selfless, how–

EXPLOSIVE?!

She goes from bright to shocked in an instant and tries to close the basket as fast as she can. "Th-these are dangerous! I can't take these!"

Lawrence hears a magical word and leans in grinning. He tries to pry the basket open, but with just one hand at his disposal Tamminy easily keeps him from his prize.

"What is it?" he demands excitedly.

"Nothing!"

"Tamminy!"

"Lawrence! It's bombs!" Tamminy gasps, scandalized as she's ever been.

"Nice! Thanks, kid!"

Tina beams regardless of the exchange, though it turns to maximum wattage when Lawrence praises her for her work. Her shoulders raise with her excitement and she bounces on the balls of her feet once, twice! But before she can go on a long winded rant about the joys of explosives she turns and sees Hazel is already making her way from the table.

Oop! She'll wave at the pair of them before scampering back off to Hazel's side and the woman dutifully puts her hand back on Tina's shoulder to keep track of her.

"Don't get too excited, little one. He won't show up here. It's not safe outside, so we can't go looking for him. You understand, right?"

It's difficult to tell sometimes what Tina does and doesn't get, but she doesn't fuss about missing the apparent third from their small group. She just nods and leads Hazel over to a bench where the woman can take a seat and rest a while.

Cricket is not so generous as to come hand over all the spare parts to his stills, but he has been doing quite a bit of work on his own vehicle, and he's got spare parts he hasn't used yet, and tools he's not going to be using while the weather's like this, so he might as well be helpful.

He come to the table with a pretty heavy-looking bag containing a couple wrenches, assorted nuts and bolts, and a number of machined parts of various shapes and descriptions. "I reckon you can have these if they're any use to you," he says. "I can replace 'em later if I gotta. Some of that's good copper."

"Oh, wow!" Tamminy exclaims. She hurries to pick through the parts, eyeing each piece as carefully as she can even in her haste. "Good copper indeed! If only I had a way to make wire out of it... But I'm sure we can find a worthy fate for most of it. I'll give the rest back to you, Mister?..."

Lawrence, from his stool, watches more casually. "What was all this from?"

He smiles and gives a modest shrug. "Cricket Pate, ma'am. I don't think I have no wire, but I can double-check later, in case."

"Most of it's spare parts from when I was workin' on my car," he says. "I picked the chassis out of the junk yard and built the insides with some help from Mr. Palmer. Still some upgrades I could do, but it ain't happenin' while the weather's like this and everyone's on edge."

"The bits of copper pipe are from my still, though. The biggest one. I rebuilt the column twice, and I ended up needing a shorter condenser coil so I trimmed a little off the one I had."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Start of the Storm

❅ Misc resources/Donations

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❅ Expedition Equipment

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