Reynard North (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shardofwinter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
Meanwhile, gangly forms clamber around the sides of the hatchway, dropping onto the ramp past Harley. More of the creatures- one or two bigger ones, mostly a handful of small ones with things that sure look like pistols drawn. They grab at the robot too late to stop him being pulled away down the ramp. If Furiosa means to shoot, she'll have to pick her targets, but it might slow down the horde starting to boil out of the ship after them. Harley's running out of time to get out of there.
They don't seem to be paying any attention to Palmer's attempt at communication- one, perhaps, that turns its head with the four eye slits of its helm aglow and makes a rasping sound that might be laughter. The low snarls, scratchy barks and inhuman squeals of its kindred are only getting louder. More and more of those in the ship are joining in, pressing forward in their eagerness to go after the prey.
no subject
Nevertheless, outside may be a terrifying prospect, but at least he can see better about whatever's coming once he gets out into the ice and snow. Dia won't be happy he had to abandon the ship, but she'd be further displeased if he allowed himself to be destroyed.
That said, this only meant there were going to be new repairs that had to be made, now. Oh, dear. Oh dear indeed.
no subject
She fights off the creatures swarmed around her with a viciousness that few people in the Nexus see from her. This is not a time for socializing, or looking at the brighter things of life. This is a time of serious battle. The lives of her comrades are at risk.
When the taller creature makes its appearance, Harley narrows her eyes. This must be one of the creatures she has heard about. One of the ones that have killed other citizens of the Nexus without any concern. With a quick switch of putting her ice dagger in her left hand -- she reaches back and pulls out her fire sword in her right hand. The blade springing to life with flames.
She slashes at the smaller creatures trying to flank her. And attacks viciously at the taller creature. Harley is standing her ground right now -- determined to be the focus of the things attacking her in the hope that her comrades get to safety. After all... Harley is trained for these kind of situations.
She has her agility. She has her strength. She has her determination.
A part of her thrives on the combat situation that she finds herself in. Fighting without having to hold back. That psychotic part of her mind that enjoys the thrill of battle is loving every second of this. Every swipe of her blades. The flame sword in one hand and the ice dagger in the other.
Right now -- Harley Quinn is a Valkyrie -- a warrior woman who is determined to fight to her last breath to protect those most important to her. She will find a weakness. She will endure. She will protect those who depend on her -- and those who don't even know her.
"Palmer! This ain't tea time! Get the FUCK to safety!" She yells over her shoulder. "And if you can... shoot a few while you do."
no subject
V8 help them if the droid is unwilling to follow her orders. She's willing to protect him, but if he's dead weight she'll focus on getting her and Palmer out of trouble ahead of him. He seems the least likely of them to fight, but a metal chassis is nothing to sneeze at. She dares to hope if he's confronted too closely with one of the monsters his frightened flailing will do some damage to it.
"Palmer! I've got 10:00, you aim toward 2:00, don't hit Harley, anything else that moves is fair game."
Assuming anyone's following her orders, she's quick to get them in a triangle position, with 2V leading, her and Palmer side by side firing at the enemy as they (hopefully) move down the track they just came from. Furiosa has no issue with walking or jogging backwards as she empties the clip of her Taurus; she's hoping Palmer can do the same, because they can't just stand and fire, either--they have to go. Her shots have to be judicious, because she only has ten rounds left in the clip, but she'll use every last one of them.
A handgun is not great at a distance, but Furiosa's aim has always been superlative. She's not going to get fancy, aiming at mid-body for every one of the monsters she shoots at, and trying to pick off the smaller, faster ones first.
Once that clip is empty she hastily shoves the Taurus into her coat and pulls out the Glock. Seventeen rounds, and then as far as she's concerned, they're down to tooth and nail and metal arm.
no subject
Palmer cringes as one of the creatures seems to mock his attempts to communicate. So much for that idea. He would have felt more comfortable if the creature just attacked. The laughter makes him think that the creature did understand that he was trying to talk. It just didn't care. Well, Palmer will show them a thing or two. The mechanic grits his teeth. He's no RJ MacReady, but he's no pushover, either. The normally relaxed stoner takes on an uncharacteristically fierce appearance.
He aims his gun squarely at the creature who laughed at him and fires. They couldn't say he hadn't tried for a peaceful solution. He gave the creatures a chance to explain their reasons for attacking.They didn't think he was worth the effort of talking to or didn't have conversations with their prey. Well, he'll have to show them he's more than just prey. He's willing to kill if he has to, though he never has killed before.
The time for talking's over. Clearly the ice monsters don't understand peaceful methods of communication. Like the Thing, except at least these creatures Palmer can fight. Palmer'll show the creatures he's worthy of their respect through force and gunplay.
There's another series of shots as Palmer fires at the creatures within range, careful not to hit anybody on his side. The mechanic's expression is one of cold, fierce rage. He is through with being prey.
no subject
Nor is it alone on the ramp now. It seems content to stay on the defensive as she’s surrounded. Even the other creatures who’ve dropped down behind her seem in no hurry to use those pistols they hold. Nonetheless, Harley’s window to get out of there is closing fast…
Then fingers pull on triggers and two weapons bark out through the high winds, again and again. One of the smaller creatures is thrown to the ramp entirely; two or three more reel and stagger under the brunt of that fire – including the one that laughed at Palmer. Harsh cries ring out as those not fighting Harley scatter, some probably wounded already. They paid little heed to the three fleeing, and it’s cost them. Well, the others have their attention now.
A few of the bigger ones vault off the sides of the ramp, taking up position and sighting down longer weapons. When they fire it’s with a low thok, like the slamming of bolts. The first rounds sing over the retreating team’s heads, needle-thin and brilliant blue, a burning ozone smell in their wake. The rifle-beasts sight again through the swirling snow. Properly, this time.
no subject
Nevertheless, he's careful in his movements, he's not designed for this sort of travel, and as such, he could easily lose control of this situation and slip on the ice and snow.
no subject
She smiles as the sounds of gunfire fill the air. It must mean that Palmer and Furiosa are far enough away to get in good shots.
Her eyes narrow. And she speaks to the creatures around her. "A lot of things were just plain wrong with Mistah J. But ya know what... he had a point when he said always leave with a bang!"
With quick motion, her ice dagger is returned to her belt and the button on the exploding yoyo is pressed. She drops the little present in the midst of the large group of creatures that had surrounded her. And flips backwards, away from the entrance of the ship.
BOOM! The explosion will occur very quickly. And it will be big. Hopefully it will take out as many of those creatures as possible. And even reach the ones who are at the sides of the ramp.
Harley will land several feet away from the explosion with her flame sword at the ready... just in case she still needs to defend herself.
no subject
It's minimal mental effort to transpose what's happening around her to her own world. A downed rig, a minimal crew, dunes of sand instead of snowbanks, a group from a rival roadgang--scavs or Buzzards--and incoming fire. Turning to run would be poor strategy. There's no way they could run fast enough on flat, solid ground to get out of rifle range in time to not be picked off like tin cans on a fence post. Standing and fighting is the only option, but standing where they are will not make them any harder to shoot down.
"Eyes right! Circle, circle, put the ship between us and them!" She yells at Palmer and the droid, "Try and stay low!"
Doesn't look like bullets coming at them, but she's pretty sure a direct hit would kill them nonetheless.
Following her own advice, she takes a couple running steps to the side, then drops into a crouch to aim. The Glock barks out three times before suddenly there's Harley flipping through the lot of them, with fire in her wake.
Furiosa appreciates a good explosion, and while she'll wait until the debris settles to decide whether they're about to die or not, she lets out a cry of approval, a wordless, bloodcurdling whoop like a predatory bird's shriek. Nice one!
no subject
At least that's what he thinks before the creatures reveal themselves to have guns of their own.
Well, that's just great. They're clearly intelligent, which revives Palmer's questions about why they were so hostile before, except now he knows better than to try and ask.
Palmer mutters an expletive as he drops to the ground, following Furiosa's advice. He fires off a couple more shots before Harley lets the explosion loose. Palmer is startled, but it was a good call on Harley's part. That should give the creatures something to think about.
"Not laughin' anymore, are you?" The mechanic shouts in the creatures' direction after Furiosa whoops. "I know you can understand us. I dunno who or what you are. You're smart enough to build guns and laugh in my face when I offer you a chance to talk things through. Well, that chance is up. I dunno why you want to kill us, 'cause we didn't do a thing to you. We ain't gonna be your prey. Leave us alone, or you'll lose more."
no subject
Circling the ship gives them a chance to break contact with their regrouping opponents. Either the ship’s bulk or the warmth from when it still had heat have left the snow around it thinner for some radius. They can make a quick run for it. Still, the ship won’t protect them for long, considering how those things clambered over it. There are more pouring out from the smoking ramp now, and those who scattered off it in time are still up and moving. Rifle shots will follow them as they break around the hull. Worse, there are deep shouts from behind… and then a roar booms out from within the ship.
They can’t outfight a small army. Running into open ground isn’t attractive, either, but if they get a head start the terrible visibility will work in their favor… and at least nothing can drop on their heads there. Just as important, the Nexus buildings are tantalizingly close. Get back to the streets and they’ll have cover to work with.
no subject
Cue pointing and already heading in that direction. Dia was going in that direction, so logically, if they can reach the plaza, they can reach her.
Nonetheless, the whole experience is terrifying to the droid.
He was not designed for this!
no subject
"If you still got that gun... shoot behind me. Take your time and aim."
She glances at Furiosa and Palmer, to make sure they are doing alright. "Look for cover. And stay together as much as possible!"
no subject
Furiosa is glad Harley's grabbed the droid, although later on she might want to laugh at that mental image. She nudges Palmer with her elbow. "Follow 'em, go fast and don't stop to shoot unless someone goes down or until you get to cover."
She'll bring up the rear, and she's not a martyr or a fool, she's not looking to sacrifice herself, but she's done plenty of shooting moving targets while being a moving target, and she's not carrying anyone, so she's the obvious choice for cover fire. As the others rush for the buildings, she follows, but turns and fires every few yards. Enough to slow their pursuers, she hopes.
no subject
He follows Harley and 2V as ordered, letting Furiosa cover them. She can handle herself, he thinks as he keeps his gun close. He still has a few shots left in case he'll need them. They have to prepare for anything. Those creatures are still after them.
"What I wanna know is how they got a hold of those guns."
no subject
Then the wind drops, just a little, and the team besides Harley has the chance to realize they’ve made it to the streets. Empty and dark as they are, the streets offer a little shelter, a little more cover from the pursuers out there. There are side streets and shortcuts they can duck through, overhangs that hide them from hunting eyes. The pack on their tail has fallen behind, and the creatures seem to have trouble finding their quarry again. Sometimes there’s a scrabble of claws on rooftops, a flump of dislodged snow. The whiff of a strange, bitter scent when the wind shifts. Sometimes there are guttural shouts from the streets nearby, or a deep howl from another direction, forcing the team to veer their course aside. They pass smashed windows, gutted shops, a family restaurant where scorch marks and a stink of burned flesh and plastic are the only testament to the lightsaber duel that took place there in the last hour.
It feels like hours more before there’s a tinge of color ahead. A warm glow that resolves itself into two of the boundary torches. They stand sentinel at either side of the street, their light dancing over the walls as the team staggers past them, harried but victorious. Or at least, safe, as is the droid they’ve rescued. The moment they pass the torches the wind drops to a sharp breeze, the snow ceases to be a blinding swirl and drifts tamely down around them. There are voices down the street, and a couple of startled refugees who eye them warily until it’s obvious they aren’t monsters themselves.
They’ve made it.
Although they haven’t seen Dia herself, for better or worse…
no subject
Being hauled up by Harley, however, surprises 2V, he yelps, as this is NEW! and TERRIFYING! And something else he wasn't designed for. He weighs a little more than a person his size would, being made of metal, circuits, and various complicated mechanical bits from the retro-esque future aesthetic a certain Galaxy Far Far Away always maintains, regardless of when you're there.
For his part though, he's been Force lifted by Dia several times, so he at least knows enough not to flail and panic, instead, he goes limp except for watching his Mistress's ship disappear in the distance, now damaged worse than when they arrived, and will likely have to be dug out of the snow given how the storm seems to be burying it further as they flee.
Or at least, that's what it looks like.
For all he knows, his sensors could be malfunctioning.
Knowing his luck, on this most unfortunate day, it could very well be true. "It doesn't matter how they got their hands on weapons, the more important thing is if they know how to use them effectively!"
no subject
"There is a lot of mystery about those creatures. We report what we saw... and hopefully someone can find some answers."
no subject
She's wheezing subtly when they finally reach safety, although she's taken no injury and probably managed to pick off a couple of their pursuers. She had a collapsed lung a couple years back and while it's healed shockingly well considering the lack of medical facilities and antibiotics, a long rush through the snow on high alert makes it act up a bit.
She clears her throat a couple times, then pats Palmer's shoulder and gives him a nod of approval. Rational obedience is what you want in a mechanic on a risky run. He's done well as far as she's concerned.
A couple steps brings her closer to Harley and she exchanges glances with the other woman, wondering if she's interpreted that attack the way Furiosa has. "You're good," she says. "Very good. Better than me. But they could have surrounded us in the ship and we'd have never broken through without someone getting hurt. I don't think they were trying to kill us. What's your take?"
no subject
He's physically unhurt, but the same can't be said for his pride. Palmer feels foolish. He actually thought he could stop the fight. It's a good thing he hadn't gotten himself killed.
He thinks the creatures are intelligent, all right, smart enough to set traps and use complex weapons, but they were clearly not interested in explaining what they were or what they wanted. He just doen't understand why, if they were smart enough to understand what he was saying, they just laughed his offer of peace off and continued attacking.
"That was too close. I'm gonna stay in the safe zone for a while."
no subject
"They seemed at least. Somewhat organized. But very dangerous. And I was not capable of translating anything they were vocalizing." He tilts his head, "Which is ... mildly odd, given my language database is extensive, but the Nexus is an unknown variable."
no subject
"There is more to those creatures than meets the eye."
no subject
What does anyone have to gain by trapping them, making them desperate? Unless the whole point is just to sit back and watch everyone in the Nexus fight one another for survival.
"Well," she says with finality, after considering for a moment. "Chances are we'll see them again. I guess we'll learn plenty more about them before the season's out."
no subject
A leader makes sense. Well, taking out the leader would throw the creatures into confusion, he thinks. Let's see how they like it for a change.
"Y'know those little fish that follow sharks around? There's gotta be a big one somewhere. I say we gather our numbers and take down the boss, whatever it is. Not before we know what we're up against, but we're gonna have to take the fight to them sooner or later. Killing or wounding the leader would show we mean business."