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?

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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 

Comments

[shieldborne]

It hurts. Steve is a connoisseur of pain, ever since he was a kid. Before the serum, there were different colors of pain. Yellow pain was normal, everyday aches in his joints and back. Blue was the color of the pain in his chest when his lungs were air-hungry. Green was sick pain, nausea or ulcers flaring up. Red pain was something broken or threatening to break. After Project Rebirth, all pain became white pain, a flare that was there and gone again and didn't make as much sense to his altered body. Didn't have to, because whatever caused it would heal so quickly.

Right now, the pain in his eyes has both color and texture. It's red and orange and jagged, like rough rocks at the edge of a cliff, and it flickers up and down his optic nerves at the pace of his heartbeat.

But he's fine.

Luckily, they are close to the safehouse by now, and the rest of the journey goes without further incident. Steve is slower, needing to be led, but he's still trying to listen as they go, for whatever good it does, and he's still a solid figure in tactical gear at the back of the line. It's not nothing.

Spider-Man will have to let them all in, but once inside, they'll find it's blessedly warm, at least compared to the outdoors. There is some heat. Not much, but some, and Steve has been pretty thorough about tacking insulation over the windows and doors.

Peter will have to give the grand tour, unfortunately. Or Miles. Steve smiles gently from behind the bandaged eyes and tells the refugees that there are beds upstairs, and there's food in the kitchen but since they have to ration everything, no one should be just helping themselves. They'll make something hot in a while, even if it's just tea, but everyone can get settled first...

And, with that message delivered, he retreats to the little infirmary he's set up in back of the coffee counter.

[websnextdoor]

Peter wants nothing more than to rush and find Miles and tell him everything that's happened and then go bang down the door to the infirmary to make sure Steve's okay but while they're all here and at the shelter there's still work to be done. Rory gets quietly pulled aside and put in charge of inventorying the rations and to report to Mr. Horvath to try and arrange with Him and Steve for a meal schedule.

She doesn't have family or friends involved to cloud her judgement out of all the people they've brought along. And since Horvath's medical know how pretty much means he's going to be trying to help Steve, so far as Peter can see, that makes him as well as a part of their team.

It's only after the tour has been given that Peter, hand shaking, leans against a wall and buries his face in his hands. He's exhausted from the trip but his every nerve is on high alert with how rife with worry he is.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath makes no attempt to find a room and settle in, but waits politely in the background until Steve is done giving instructions and ready to retire to whatever passes for an infirmary. He’s happy to help him there, although he won’t give any more assistance than seems necessary, and once Steve has sat down he sinks down gratefully and sets his cane aside, sighing with relief. That was a hard enough hike that he’s very glad to get his weight off his feet for a few minutes.

“I’m afraid you’re cursed.” As soon as the words are out, he realizes with chagrin that this probably should have been cushioned in more delicate terms. Perhaps with his vision absent, Steve will appreciate that Horvath has an extremely expressive voice. His embarrassment and apology comes through clearly in his tone, after. “I’m sorry. I should have... Mmm. Bedside manner is not my strong suit. What I meant is that there was clearly something or someone beyond an ordinary person out there, and they seem to have placed a curse on you. The bad news is that such things can be difficult to remove. The good news is that they nearly always can be removed, sooner or later.” He’s not at all good at sugar-coating things, but he is very good at laying out the important details, at least?

[shieldborne]

Honestly, it's a pretty good infirmary, considering it's in the refurbished back-office of what used to be some kind of diner. There's a cot on either wall, of the simple, uncomfortable kind that you find in a school nurse's office, and there are shelves with stacks of medical supplies, extra blankets, and several boxes of cast-off sweaters, sweatpants, and socks. Steve has been pretty conscientious, gathering things.

"If there's anything here you think would be more useful for the Nexus-wide triage unit, you can take it," Steve says. "Just leave some of the antiseptic and bandages for us here."

He sits on the cot and works on undoing the handkerchief as if he hopes his sight will be miraculously restored already underneath it. Well, given how fast he usually heals, it's not that crazy a hope.

He pauses, eyes half-open and unseeing still, and blinks at nothing when Horvath makes his proclamation. "Cursed. Are you serious?"

He's not alarmed by it, not half as alarmed as he should be, but he's a little skeptical. As he listens to the further explanation, though, it starts to make more sense. Yeah, there are plenty of somethings beyond the ordinary out there.

"Why me?" He wonders aloud. "What did I do?"

Probably Horvath doesn't have an answer to that question.

[bitterguardian]

He really doesn't have an answer for that question. It's clear he was targeted, but that may just be because he was the first person whatever being did this saw a chance to get at, and nothing more. Horvath glances around the infirmary, and approves of what he sees, but he won't take any supplies from here unless and until the main Nexus triage runs low on something. They're just as likely to need things here, after all.

"I'm sorry. There isn't always rhyme or reason for these things. A predator takes any chance it sees." He runs a hand over his face, worn out from a day of healing, followed by a trudge through snow and ice. "Does it hurt? I may be able to ease pain, at least, but the rest I'll have to sleep on."

Partly he's too drained to do much more, magically, until he rests. Even then, this is going to take some research to undo and he's not sure how to go about that in the currently very limited resources. The Nexus library is probably almost as unreachable now as his own at home.

[shieldborne]

Steve's first thought is Loki, honestly. It sort of fits his M.O., taking the shape of someone familiar to Steve to then spring a trap on him. He might well have done enough digging to find out about Bucky, about the Winter Soldier. He's cruel enough to use the knowledge.

The thing that doesn't fit, though, is the very lingering effect of the trick that's been played on him. Blindness? What could Loki possibly stand to gain by striking him blind?

It couldn't really have been Bucky, could it? He's got no magic, but...

Steve groans to himself, knowing he'll never be able to let that go. That image of Bucky with iced-over eyes. His memory is eidetic, and now that's going to be filed away in it, right alongside the scream as he fell from a train in a mountain pass.

"No," he lies promptly in response to Horvath's question. "It's no worse than a headache. Not worth wasting your strength on. One of the kids has frostbite, and there are gonna be a lot of people needing help here and in the Plaza. I'll be fine."

The initial pain is unabated, actually, although the texture and color seem to have changed some. It's more violet now than orange, and rough like sandpaper rather than spiky. "I'll just have to find a way to do whatever I can to work around it, for now."

[bitterguardian]

Horvath listens to the groan, and leans forwards with a soft creak of the chair under him. A heavy hand lands on Steve's shoulder, and he gives a couple of weary pats. There just might be a subtle painkilling spell that comes with it, partly because he suspects Steve is not being entirely truthful about the level of pain, and partly because he knows the other man won't see the glow of his ring when he does it.

"I think I have enough left in me to deal with frostbite, and I'll take another look at your eyes in the morning. I'm not sure what to advise in the meantime, but I think if you're willing to ask for help, you'll find plenty of it here. You've brought together some good people." The way that they banded together and bolstered each other in the uncertainty following Steve's injury did not escape his notice.

[shieldborne]

If Steve were aware of the spell, he'd have to tell Horvath off for it, but he's oblivious for the moment. And honestly, any subtle change in his condition can be chalked up to his healing factor if the question does arise. For the moment, he's going to have to focus more on finding workarounds.

There is one good thing about an eidetic memory, though. He knows where literally everything in this place is, so he can still help prepare food, get out supplies, and generally guide people around the place.

"How bad does it look? I'm not interested in scaring anyone." He's got sunglasses, but they're going to be in the upstairs room he's been bunking in, not the med closet.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath isn’t about to enlighten him, so he’ll never know. “It looks a bit as if you came down with a sudden case of cataracts, and the skins red around them. I think if you mostly keep your eyes closed, it shouldn’t bother anyone too much.” That’s a kind way of saying that if he leaves his eyes open, yes they are kind of freaky looking.

“I will take another look, in the morning. And I’m planning to teleport between here and the clinic where you found me. I can spare the power to take myself back and forth, at least.” Transporting the whole group they brought here, especially after a busy day of healing, was just a little too much. Maybe if he’d rested up first, and then they might have avoided the whole mess with Steve’s eyes, but it’s also trickier to get somewhere magically that you have never yet been to, so they could have been diverted and ended up who knows where. It’s pointless to think of what might have been.

He’ll probably struggle to fall asleep, thinking about it anyway.