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

Recovering Stolen Property- Natasha, Matt, Prometheus

[red_room]

With her help recruited, Natasha Romanoff makes her way back over toward the medical station with Daredevil in tow. The man they're making their way toward is tall and broad shouldered with a full beard and a rock steady stance. He's been tasked with keeping an eye out for any further signs of trouble while Natasha does her thing.

"Here," the spy pulls a pair of batons out of their holders by her boots and passes them over to Daredevil as casually as she would a piece of paper. "Switch on the sides turns them on. Think of them like tazers but with blunt force trauma." She checks the clip of her own handguns as she talks before holstering them again.

"Prometheus. This is Daredevil. Daredevil, Prometheus. He's the one who gave the preliminary report. Anyone who needs gear for outside better grab it now."

[liverfree]

Prometheus quirks his mouth a bit at the introduction. A man who calls himself Daredevil is like something out of a comic book, but he trusts that Natasha would only pick those most useful to retrieving the stolen medical supplies. "Good to meet you," he says. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

He's been saying that a lot recently.

As for outside gear, Prometheus lightly taps his thick weatherproof coat. "I'm ready. I've already spoken to everyone who witnessed the robbery. I don't believe we'll be able to gather any more information here."

In addition to his snow gear, he's obtained for himself a short sword and shield, as well as a long spear that he grabs from where it's leaning against the supplies table. He's not happy about bringing his weapons out of retirement, but it would be foolhardy to chase after thieves unarmed, especially during such desperate times.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Matt doesn't look particularly comic book-y at the moment, the devil suit left far behind him and his more homemade gear locked on the other side of a frozen portal home. Though he should still be plenty easy to pick out of a crowd, with his knit beanie pulled down over his eyes. He clearly has a practiced hand with the kind of blunt weaponry Natasha just handed him though, testing their balance and weight, a look of mild surprise - and slightly bloodthirsty glee - at the prospect of taser batons, flicking one on briefly and listening to the electricity crackle along its length. "These'll do nicely," he says in approval.

Foggy's going to be so jealous.

Matt hasn't met Prometheus before, but from what he can hear, his new ally is solidly built and well prepared for a cold trek in the great outdoors. The scent of kiln-fired clay that clings to his clothes is a bit odd, old and layered enough that it's not leftover from a recent attempt to keep warm, but Matt supposes he's hardly the first person to have drastically different combat skills than you'd expect from their day job. "We can't always get what we want," he agrees with a nod. "But good to have you along. What've you learned so far?"

His own outerclothes are meant for New York winters, not this kind of deep freeze, so he does take the opportunity to upgrade his coat and gloves in favor of something a little warmer, leaving his own behind for someone else to make use of. Less dexterity is a pain in the ass, especially for him, but it's better than losing fingers to frostbite. He needs those.

[red_room]

"We're going to be heading into the more urban section of the Nexus. Going to be a lot of climbing and navigating around drifting snow and ice sheets by the sound of it. D'you have a light, Prometheus?"

No, she's not asking Daredevil if he has one. She'll take it as read that he doesn't need one to find his way around. Natasha has her own torch strapped to her belt for easy grabbing and a nice blunt force instrument if worst comes to worst.

"They can't have gone far unless they're immune to the cold. We might have to bust down some doors or windows though."

[liverfree]

He's not sure what to make of the knit beanie pulled over the man's eyes, but presumably he can get around just fine. "Nothing that Natasha hasn't already learned," he replies. "I suspect that these thieves relied heavily on the element of surprise. So long as we do not... what's the phrase? Let them get the jump on us, we should be able to retrieve the medical supplies."

It's not like they've had time to sell them by now. Although navigating the storm-strewn streets is not going to be easy. At Natasha's question, he pulls a flashlight out of his pocket, one of those small ones that still manages to throw a sharp beam of light. "Yes. I have a flare, as well, should the need arise."

He does not bat an eye at the idea of busting down doors or windows. That's what his broad shoulders are built for.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Urban is good, and Matt is automatically even more at ease. He's a city boy through and through, and in this kind of snowfall, having solid landmarks that stand out to his remaining senses is probably going to be a Must Have. Even if the ice is probably going to make parkour a little trickier, granted, but then he's not as agile as he used to be either, and besides, he has a team he should probably be sticking closer to anyway.

"I should be able to hear anyone coming," he says to Prometheus, and hopes that the thieves aren't undead ninjas or something. Once was bad enough. "Or lying in wait, once we track them down."

Ordinarily he'd take the lead, but this is Natasha's party, so he defers to her. "Shall we?"

[red_room]

"Right let me be real clear here."

Once they're outside Natasha's voice has to raise just a bit out of necessity to be heard over the wind. She's wasting no time in trudging her way up a once-bustling street, following tracks that are fairly fresh but filling with the ever present wind. Most of the tracks all around this place are headed toward the base, so any going a different direction are easy to spot.

"We haven't been turning folks away from this place. Whoever we're dealing with out here isn't likely to be reasoned with and they could have done much worse. We're out to retrieve supplies and make a statement. Anyone uncomfortable with doling out some street justice can kindly keep it to yourself."

In Winter the quiet takes on a life of its own. The snow muffles everything, choking noise into submission until all that's left is the sound of the wind and themselves as they move around snow drifts as best as they can while following the tracks. Here and there many old tracks cover one another--packing the lower layer of snow into rough ice. The trails of old shelters no longer viable with the torch line moving.

With all this white (and much less clean snow being covered up by the pristine white falling around them) it will be easy to spy a flicker of movement up ahead. The crunch of snow being compacted further along the road, darting around a corner.

[liverfree]

The Titan's footsteps fall a little heavier than those of his comrades, but he keeps pace easily enough, following the tracks that lead away from the Plaza. His warm outerwear and natural endurance leave him comfortable, but there's a brief moment of unease following Natasha's little speech. She makes good points, all valid, but his personal priority is to get the medical supplies back to the people who need them. He'd rather not inflict violence unless absolutely necessary.

He catches sight of the flicker of movement up ahead and points to it with his spear. "Someone's up there," he says. "Around the corner."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Matt's just going to assume that little pep talk was more for Prometheus' benefit than his own, especially given the murmur in the other man's heartbeat that speaks of discomfort with what's being said. But it's good to get it all out there before they're in the thick of it, so Daredevil just grips his borrowed batons and nods his agreement.

Winter is definitely his least favorite season to navigate, the crisp outlines of his surroundings melting into a slightly fuzzier approximation under the insulating blanket of powder, with only the sharper echoes of ice to warn him how to best set his feet. He casts his hearing wide, alert for signs of danger through the muffling curtain of fresh snowfall, and turns his head sharply at the crunching of hard-packed crystals under boots, just before Prometheus calls it out.

He narrows his focus in that direction, seeking out the subtler thrum of heartbeats, of breathing, trying to determine if it's just the one, or if there are more waiting to ambush them when they come to investigate.

[red_room]

The heavy crunch of Prometheus' footsteps overshadows the more planned steps their masked companion makes and both in turn muffle the soft crunches of Natasha's own boots in the snow. Hunting in freezing weather isn't ideal, even for the woman trained and raised for such an environment. Her breathing is slow and steady, calm in a way an ordinary person's would not be in such a situation.

For as generous as they're being, Natasha knows they also cannot appear to be weak or passive. A message will be sent. Anyone not interested in peace and order...well. They'd best not pick a fight with their organization.

They're alongside a darkened storefront, it's windows long since broken in. The crunch of glass mixes with the crunch of the snow underfoot and large drifts have already settled inside. All the stores on this stretch of road look the same, long since ransacked and looted of anything worth taking. The tracks are more chaotic now, crisscrossing over each other and darting this way and that through the snow. Matt will notice it first with his hearing the closer they get.

Movement upstairs in the building they're next to. Faint crunches of snow across the street. Shoes or maybe claws? Clanking against fire escapes. There's not just one of these targets. There's a gang of them. Shifting on their feet. Waiting.

"Time to earn our keep." Natasha mutters darkly as she peers into the smashed in storefront. She sees footprints inside and can guess there might be backrooms and upstairs still viable even if the store itself is empty. "We need to find those supplies, I don't care who you beat it out of. I'm going to take a look in here."

It's all the warning they'll get before she's climbing into the smashed window by her lonesome and making her way upstairs. Sorry boys, you're on your own for the moment.

[liverfree]

The sight of the damaged storefronts causes a small tug of sorrow in the Titan's chest. It's too easy to wonder about the state of his own studio. He had made sure to take anything of value, but he doubts that would stop anyone desperate enough from breaking in. Ultimately, he can rebuild what he lost, but what of all these merchants who have lost their livelihood to the storm?

He mentally shakes his head, clearing it for the task at hand. Natasha's move into the store is unsurprising, although it would have been nice if they could have talked a little strategy first. He doesn't have Matt's special hearing, but he has noticed the multiple tracks. The thief could have easily passed off the supplies. Who knows who might have it now.

"I'll search the perimeter," he informs Matt. "If I spot anyone, I'll try to herd them your way and cut off their escape route."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

It's certainly a harsh aspect of the reality they find themselves in, but Matt can't detect a whiff of any bodies, nor the echoes that'd suggest a grisly surprise buried under one of these snowdrifts. Whoever looted these stores, they did it after their abandonment. Or so he can only assume. But that's a good thing. Things can be replaced, even if one's livelihood is not so easy to get back. People can't be.

Daredevil doesn't turn his head when Natasha suddenly breaks from the group, but he does voice a warning, voice low to avoid unwanted attention. "We're not alone. Stay sharp."

He, too, would have preferred a little consultation, though he has to admit that he's used to operating the exact same way. Working alone is freeing, in a way, not having to worry about keeping track of teammates and keeping them out of trouble. But it has its downsides, too, and without a clear headcount of just how many are waiting in ambush, he's not going to begrudge the backup.

Especially with such a nice offer to chase the potential culprits into the welcoming embrace of his borrowed batons. Daredevil's mouth quirks up in a smile that doesn't have much humor in it, and tilts his head to the other man. "I'll keep an ear out for you. You might want to try that way first," he adds, pointing in the direction where the closest sounds of life are slowly pulsing in the cold, faint but unmistakable to his ears. "I'll scout out a corner to trap them in." Open ground is all well and good, but he prefers shadows and tight corners, and limited escape routes. Makes it harder for the bad guys to get away, until he can take them out at the knees and make sure they aren't going anywhere until he's done with them.

Definitely not so i can spend a tag writing npcs coherently!

[red_room]

She's counting on them not being alone. They need information or at least the supplies.

Prometheus won't have a hard time finding what is potentially their target. Bundled up figures turn when he looms into the alleyway they're in before breaking into a full sprint to try and get away from the Titan. All of their coats are the same muted shade of red. A gang by the looks of things, eager to be able to differentiate themselves form any potential enemies enough to be selective about their winter wear. Of course, with so many department stores trashed they probably had their pick of the clothing.

Probably human based on the way they move and react Daredevil will note. This isn't the same kind of bogeyman monster rumors that have started to trickle about the refugees. These are people looking to take advantage of each other. That's something both titan and vigilante will know all too well.

[liverfree]

As soon as the figures run from him, Prometheus gives chase. He doesn't bother shouting, "Stop!" or "Hold it right there!" For one, he knows that they won't listen, and for another, he'd rather not give away his position in case any more of their red-clothed buddies are lying in wait elsewhere.

Of course, a group of people running is bound to make some noise. The nice thing about alleyways is that there aren't many directions to run off to. At least not horizontal ones. These characters seem human to the Titan, so he's not terribly concerned about them suddenly taking flight or slithering up the wall. All the same, he holds his spear out, jabbing at them like a farmer might do with a cattle prod, herding the lot of them around the corner and hopefully into Daredevil's vicinity.

One thing of note is that he is not as vicious with those stabs as he could be. He's not trying to impale them, simply corral them.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Finding a place to conceal himself is relatively easy, and while Daredevil is used to ambushing his targets from above, ground level seems safer all around for everybody. Whoever's in the lead might get a second's warning as the batons snap to life, crackling with electricity, and Matt darts out to jab at the target's solar plexus to knock the wind out of him (or her). He doesn't sit still to listen to what happens next, already in motion towards the next person, cracking his borrowed batons at knees and ribs, aiming to subdue the entire group as swiftly as possible.

He's making an effort to restrain himself from inflicting more serious injury - gotta have conscious captives to question - but if any of them are armed, and go for a weapon, they might get their hand broken in short order.

[red_room]

There's plenty of shoes crunching and sliding through the snow and hard packed ice as they scuttle back toward one of the more intact stores on this street. A base of operations perhaps, or at least a staging area. Both of them are armed, though they're not so eager to fight Prometheus directly when the odds are only two on one. This is the Nexus after all.

A place where literal gods walk the streets.

There's safety in numbers.

They shout as they run, hurling swears and obscenities at Prometheus as if it will make him stop routing them. Attracting the attention of their mates. Unluckily for all involved, Prometheus isn't here alone. They round the corner and the lead man takes a shock baton directly to the chest. The localized shock has him crumpling to the ground with a yelp of panic laced with very real pain. Enough time for his buddy to think about grabbing for his knife before he's catching the same shock sticks to the back of his knees. He'd be dropping even if it wasn't for the slippery conditions.

Prometheus may have a pause to consider checking if the men are alright but Daredevil will hear more incoming. Three more people are heading outside to find out what the fuss is all about. Neither man will be caught unaware when the sound of a pistol firing and immediately hitting the brick wall a good half a foot away from the men goes off. Not everyone's had time to train with those weapons they've stolen yet, okay?

[liverfree]

The swears mean little to Prometheus. Although he would rather no one lose a life over the situation, he has little sympathy for those who would steal medical supplies for monetary gain. So when Daredevil takes out both with the electric batons, he's nothing but approving. Shock first, ask questions later.

Unfortunately, there's no time to question the men. Not with three more people joining the fray. He instinctively raises his shield at the sound of gunfire. Whoever is wielding the pistol is not very good on it, based on that poor shot, but a projectile weapon does have an advantage at a distance.

Time to take that advantage away.

"I'll draw their fire," he informs Matt before heading towards them. He runs at an angle, shield up, his heavy step cracking any spots of ice rather than sliding on them. He has his spear extended, and whoever heads for him is going to have to deal with its sharp tip if they want to get close enough to attack him.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Oh goody, guns. Daredevil's favorite. Thank God they can't seem to aim, though Matt doesn't exactly want to count on that meaning he's not going to get shot through sheer dumb luck. At least Prometheus has a shield, although whether it's bulletproof or not remains to be seen. Or heard, as the case may be.

"Got it." He heads for the closest cover, as if trying to duck out of the way of any better-aimed bullets, but his real goal is finding a more concealed way forward to circle around behind the new party crashers and introduce their faces to the floor. At least they're easy to track by sound, between the harsh breathing that comes with chilled lungs, and the fumbling with the gun, though his ears ring annoyingly after every shot. The gunman is his top priority, no matter how crap of a shot he is, and this time Daredevil attacks with full intent of breaking the man's wrist. Tasing the shit out of him along the way is just a bonus at this point. Not that he'll likely have time to appreciate the screaming, since he has to immediately turn his wrath on the other two, all his remaining senses alert to defend himself against any counterattacks, if they're not taken by surprise like he plans.

[red_room]

Another gunshot rings out, this one fainter and not nearby. The shouting that comes after it is likewise muffled and faint. Easily unnoticed in the immediate fray of the fight unfolding down on the ground level across the street. They're not here to play at being an even match for these thugs nor to draw out a game of cat and mouse. Prometheus may not be at his True size but he towers over these men when he charges them down like a legionnaire out of an ancient world with how familiar he is wielding his spear and shield. Daredevil may not have his old suit with the same reds as these thugs bear or the arched back horns marking him as the Devil of Hell's kitchen but he is a wraith among them as they scatter, snapping bones and lashing out with devastating shocks that lock up the muscles. Leaving their attackers whimpering in the snow.

And Natasha? She doesn't need a suit or heels to stand tall over the man cradling his bleeding arm in the second story office where she's found him. All she needs is the empty gaze of a shark intent on devouring its prey when she raises her gun again to his face, letting him know that she will feel nothing for ending his life if he doesn't speak.

They should fear the people they've made into their enemies. For as altruistic as many who call the Nexus their home or stomping grounds can be they are also dangerous. Monstrous, depending on who you ask.

"W-wait, wait nngh please. Please don't impale m-me or break my wrist oh shit oh fuck--" By now the second thug who got taken out by the knees is upright and trying to scoot back to put as much distance between himself and Prometheus and Daredevil as he can. "I give up!"

[liverfree]

In the heat of battle, Prometheus keeps his cool. He has not fought in some time, but his body remembers the steps. The swing of the spear, the heft of the shield. His weapons are not magical, and a couple of bullets clip the shield, denting the metal, but better that than the Titan's flesh. A bullet wound wouldn't slow him down, but it would still hurt like it would any mortal.

Once Daredevil incapacitates the gun-wielder, he slips the shield back onto his back so he can wield his spear two-handed. He feels almost superfluous compared to his companion's excellent fighting skills, but that's okay. So long as they can get the information they seek.

Holding the spear in a ready position, he tromps up to the thug, cornering him against the side of the building. "Good," he says sternly, like a school principal dealing with a teenage delinquent. "I'll spare you the lecture of how crime doesn't pay and you can tell us where your gang stashed those stolen medical supplies."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Daredevil doesn't have any kind of restraints to put these men in, but fortunately, it doesn't look like it's necessary. Between those still shaking from the aftershocks of the taser batons, those who've found their legs suddenly quite unwilling to hold them upright, and the searing pain that comes with bones that've been snapped in half like twigs, Matt feels confident that the fight has been rather taken out of them all in a hurry.

He retrieves the gun, and while he's tempted to simply unload it and scatter the ammunition in a snowdrift somewhere, they're better off holding onto it instead. So he finds the safety, and stows the weapon in a pocket, giving the area one last sweep with his senses to make sure everyone is down and staying that way before he joins Prometheus, ignoring the pained groans of the other gang members who're still conscious.

Daredevil sets himself at the titan's elbow like a shadow, head cocked slightly to one side as he zeroes in on the thug's heartbeat. "Don't even think about lying," he adds in a low growl. "I'll know." In his hands, the batons crackle menacingly in warning.

[red_room]

There's a whole lot of whimpering, crying, and wetting themselves going on here which really isn't a great idea considering they're getting wet from all the snow they're toppled over in anyway but that's hardly Daredevil or Prometheus' problem, now is it?

They could have had a nice warm shelter with the rest of the refugees in the Plaza but no. Now they get to live with the consequences of their actions. Including broken bones which will ironically need medical attention.

"W-we were gonna sell 'em man. Make some cash and hole up until this b-blew over." The sniveling man sitting on his ass in the snow makes a rather undignified high pitched whine when he sees the shock batons crackle. Regrets, he has many. "Th'shot callers have the goods all wrapped up for drop off at the Insani-Tee store j-just up th-the street. They're watchin' over it."

His back's against the wall. There's no further he can scoot his filthy behind to get away from either man. He shakes his head quickly.

"Th-that's it that's all there is." He's afraid and he wants to get out of this intact. Whatever happens now is on the gang members above him. Course, snitching isn't something that's looked well on. He's probably going to have to run very far to get away from his own now.

[liverfree]

The criminal's theatrics soften Prometheus's expression ever so slightly. There's little pity for these men, but their cowardice and lack of ethics is embarrassing. Besides, none of them have the medical supplies with them. They aren't worth the hassle.

Keeping his spear pointed at the terrified thief, he says to Daredevil, "If this man is telling the truth, it would behoove us to move on to that store as soon as possible, before the supplies change hands again. And as much as I'd prefer to round up these troubled young men and march them off to the Plaza for detainment and medical attention, I don't believe we should split up."

It'd be great if Natasha showed up right about now. He'd prefer consensus on this plan.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

If the thieves had stolen the supplies because they had an actual need, Matt might have felt a twinge of sympathy. Not much of one, granted, but it would've been a better reason than just greed.

Pathetic.

At least this thug's honest, now that he's had his bravado beaten out of him. The panicked heartbeat is full of fear, but not lies. "Oh, he is. Smart choice." It's not really a compliment, and Daredevil doesn't even try to make it sound like one.

He too would rather drop off these idiots to somebody in authority, but they've already got their hands full as it is, and Daredevil is pretty confident that these morons aren't ready to cause trouble again in the immediate future. At least until the bones knit back together. And hey, they have identifiable injuries, if he's wrong about that. So he just nods once, keeping an ear out in Natasha's direction to find where she's gotten herself off to, without tipping off the thieves that there's more than just the two men around. "Agreed." He tilts his head toward the cornered thief, and shifts his grip on the baton. "As for you, don't let us catch you doing this again unless you'd rather eat your meals through a straw for the next couple months."

[red_room]

That far off gunshot wasn't joined by any more and Daredevil's going to hear one of the thugs getting up and making a run for it before anything else. Probably to warn their superiors if the direction's anything to go by. He only makes it to the end of the block before a trash can lid gets slid under his footing and sends the man dropping hard into the snow. He barely makes it to his feet before Natasha is on him, hitting him once just below the man's ribs to take away his breath before knocking him out with a single blow to the head.

She'd love to break bones and curbstomp the thug's leg but the message is well sent already seeing the unconscious and whimpering bodies strewn about the street. Natasha's gaze flits up to meet Prometheus' before falling on Daredevil though it won't linger there. There's little point to stare a man down who can't see it, after all.

"Buildings are clear on this block. Goods aren't here."