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nexus_crossings2019-01-03 10:57 am
shardofwinter) wrote in nexus_crossings2019-01-03 10:57 am
Entry tags:
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
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
no subject
"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."
no subject
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."
no subject
"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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
❅ Expedition Equipment
"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."