nexus_crossings | Into a Rising Wind

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event

Into a Rising Wind

Winter holds the Nexus in its jaws, and its teeth sink ever deeper.

A month into the storm, the snow has yet to stop falling. The number of mouths to be fed has stopped dwindling, almost. Occasionally people go missing, and those who notice hope they’ve found a way back through their portals. It’s not enough to change the maths on their food supplies - all their supplies. Nobody is getting a full meal at a time, not any more. Isidor and Lyall have begun to enforce the rationing with iron hands. Both ignore the look that crosses Captain Kirk’s face when they upbraid a volunteer cook for being too generous – the look that lingers on Runa’s face if she’s close enough to hear. They’re doing what they must. They need a tight hold on their supplies if they want to get people through this. They need supplies even to send expeditions after more.

And expeditions are a difficult prospect now. Those who ventured into the storm and returned have brought stories that spread faster than Isidor hoped. The Crossroads Cafe has become a semi-official hub for those travelling outside or keeping watch on the bounds, a safe resting place kept warm by the combined power of Pokemon and Persona. In the long dark nights, people sit around the tables and share what they've seen, what they've heard from this scout or that refugee. Whispered tales of the creatures out there hunting in packs, hounding people from rooftops, even tearing open walls to reach them…

No-one goes out alone, now. Those brave enough to take the risk go in groups and arm themselves with the best weapons they can find. Sometimes they’re a risk to themselves. Not everyone knows how to handle that black market plasma pistol they picked up two days past. Not all of their team-mates keep their nerve when a figure looms out of the snows beside them. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s run afoul of monsters, and who of their own folly. Safer, but little less brave, are the people recruited to keep watch on that shifting line of torches. Just a precaution. The creatures don’t come past it, everyone says. But quietly, everyone doubts.

There've been bright moments, too. A strange alchemist comforting a lost child. An expedition team fighting their way home, back to back. Families brought safely through the snow by soldiers and wizards, by heroes young and old and sometimes surprising. A volunteer cook stepping up to prepare, if not quite a hundred thousand meals, then something that feels close. A young man saving the life of a stranger who'd threatened him. The past weeks have seen people who may never have known one another before come together to offer a blanket, or guiding words, or a helping hand in a search. Small moments, glowing reminders of how much good the people of the Nexus have on their side. But the Winter goes on, and the winds never get less bitter, and the smiles get more strained with every day.

Slowly the line of torches close on the Plaza, a noose no-one can afford to flee. Sheltered space is at a premium. Most of those who remain are settled as close to the centre as they can be. Whether in the big public bunker or the Cafe, people find themselves crammed all together, and tempers regularly fray among residents not too cold and exhausted for fighting. The more responsible Nexus-goers find themselves trying to duck out of (or break up) fights, or spending hours stuffing drafty accommodation with any insulation they can find. There’s snow to be shoveled from doors, pipes to be defrosted, bandages to be changed. Anything’s better than dealing with the problem of working bathrooms.

At one end of the Plaza headquarters, a makeshift screen has been dragged into place to give a semblance of privacy to Isidor’s desk. It’s painfully early in the morning, though the nights are so long and the days so dim beneath the storm clouds there’s little sense of time any more. There’s no-one around yet to wonder about the meeting going on. The only people present are Isidor, Lyall and a handful of senior volunteers – those who remain. Blaze-37 crouches by a makeshift fireplace, stacking the salvaged wood just right before she punches it lightly, setting it alight with the flames that ripple over her fist. The other robot, Ghost, is hovering over the desk playing flashlight for them, shining a pale beam over the maps and reports laid out there. Light, too, is a precious resource, as batteries die and outlets are lost to encroaching Winter. It’s the only reason those here have gotten sleep. They work until they have no light to work by.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Suou?” the Guardian asks when Isidor says they can begin.

“Officer Suou won’t be coming.”

That’s part of why they’re here, Isidor explains. The torches’ march has taken them past the Grand Library. The Crossroads Café is now on the very edge of the safe zone, along with all the people sheltering there. Katsuya’s magic is the only thing that will protect it. He can’t leave. It’s a turning point that only drives home the larger problem: they’re running out of time. They’re running out of everything. Most refugees are in some kind of shelter by now; what they lack is food to keep them alive and fuel to keep them warm. Isidor’s volunteers have counted heads and counted tins and counted everything backwards and forwards and the numbers never get better. Either they do something now, while they have the strength, or the meals will run dry in two weeks. Less, if anything goes wrong.

She lets that sink in. Nobody looks surprised: she’s confirming their worst suspicions and that gets a few flinches, but they understand. They talk, instead. By the time there’s a hint of daylight outside and someone knocks on the door for the first shot at rations, they have a plan. They need an expedition, bigger than any before. They need enough arms to discourage attack, the skills to get them to any buried supplies and the numbers to haul them back in quantity. Each of them walks away from the table with a mission in mind and an air of grim determination.

They have a job to do, and they’re going to need help.

((As before, so below: the main missions/subquests for the expedition prep are listed below. 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. The OOC Post can be found here! If you have any questions, feel free to message me or one of the mods!))

Threads of Note

Scouting the Expedition | A Fistful of Torches | Scrapyard Sweep | The Home Front | Medical Attention | Isidor's Expedition Call | Main Expedition: The Raid

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"But nothing." Miles isn't put off by the damp, just mentally noting that they'll have to get Peter another hoodie or sweater while his dries. But it can wait for now.

"We'll get through it. Sounds to me like everyone out there's coming together not pulling apart, yeah? I doubt it'll come down to riots. And it's not just you this time okay? I've got your back, and there's other people that know what to do too, even just in this place." One-armed hug isn't doing enough? Okay, both arms for a good tight bear-hug it is. "Not gonna say it's not scary cause it is. But we got this."

Peter makes a small noise of surprise at being hugged quite so tight but he's one of the few people who could take it. It makes him stop and take a gasp and when Miles lets him go a bit he tries for some slower, deeper breaths. The panic isn't gone but even Peter can see that Miles is trying extra hard because of him. The youngest guy on the team is the only one holding it together here.

Steve is blind and Peter is panicking. Way to be just the worst, Parker. Get up, come on. Back on your feet. Just like you do out there in the field. People are counting on Spider-Man. Miles shouldn't have to be the only one keeping things going around here.

"...Oh...okay. Say you're right. Steve needs help, and the only folks who can do it are back at the base. We've got time before sundown. We could...go back. Get some more supplies--medical supplies--for him. And maybe someone there might know how to deal with this freaky-ass magic."

Miles had a little experience with compartmentalizing like this. He'd watched his mom do it often enough, switching between 'mom' and 'nurse' in a way that he could only try and mimic. Miles the kid, and Miles the Spider-Man. That didn't stop the relief he felt when he noticed Peter starting to try and pull himself back together. He could only keep it together so long without backup after all.

"Yeah. That's... that's a really good idea. Even if no one can come back maybe someone has some advice or maybe they've even seen something like this before." It'd be better than nothing, information that maybe this wasn't an uncommon thing in the Nexus, that perhaps it was even temporary or easily fixed somehow.

A long shot but there's been worse odds before.

It's not like Steve's going to be left completely alone while the two Spider-Men head out, either. There's Rory who has honestly been super helpful in pulling people together and Mister Horvath is looking over Steve as best he can. But no one here is a doctor or a cleric or whatever weird D&D term you use to describe a magic-doctor that probably definitely exists in this weird meetup of worlds.

Peter gives one more loud sniffle trying to get himself back in order before he tugs the mask back down and sucks in a deep breath. Okay, Parker. You guys have got this. Hurry back to the plaza, find some help and anything else they can give for the shelter and then hurry back. Easy.

"If nothing else, we gotta warn the folks at the base about this weird curse stuff. So no one else gets hurt. We oughta head out from the roof so folks aren't trying to play tag along. Won't be able to use that entrance when we come back though. Steve was talking to another super type guy back at the Plaza about setting traps up there to catch anyone trying to break in."

Miles was more than a little relieved to hear Peter pulling himself together. He wasn't sure how long he could keep his own level head when everyone around him was falling to bits but it seemed he didn't need to test that just yet. He released his grasp on his fellow Spider-Man with a firm pat at his back some small tension easing from him as he nodded.

"Yeah definitely. We can let them know about it so they're less likely to fall for it. But first," A light pluck at Peter's damp sleeve. "Let's get you something dry to wear from the supplies. Wanderin' out there in wet clothes isn't the greatest plan, right?"

"Huh?"

The teen lifts one arm and takes a look at his hoodie, then down at the little puddle of tracked snow-now-dirty-water his shoes have made on the floor. That..is probably not a bad idea. Both squelchy shoes and his hoodie are shucked off in short order. The Spider-suit itself isn't going anywhere but that doesn't mean he can't take care of it.

"Karen, could you give me a hand?"
"Of course." Get a little cloud of steam and about a minute and that suit will be a lot drier. He glances back at Miles while they dig through the closet in the dormitory for something that will fit.

"Only works on the suit, or I'd just dry my clothes too."

While Peter was hunting for the clothes, Miles went digging through the trunk of shoes and boots, dragging out a few pairs that looked like they'd stand up to the snow alright and fit his friend.

The steam of course drew his eye and he watched as Peter's suit dried in a rapid, almost magic way, letting out a low whistle.

"Okay now that is fancy. How come no one gave me a fancy suit like that?" Gosh Fury! But the teen held out a pair of shoes for Peter to try on. "Here. I think these should work."

If Peter took them, Miles would move to the bunks, grabbing his own gear from his bed. Not that it was much- half-laced high-tops, a beaten-to-comfort hoodie, and a puffy grey jacket with fuzzy lining around the hood.

"If we're quick we should be back before it gets dark, even if we're bringin' someone back with us."

They're in a hurry and not exactly the most quiet while they fumble for cloths and shoes, but it does mean that if nothing else they're quick in their search. What can Peter say? He has years of experience in being perpetually late for school and everything else at his back as he fumbles around for an appropriate sweatshirt to pull on over his suit. The first pair of shoes he tries on are too big and they get tossed aside haphazardly with a clump before he takes the next pair Miles hands him and tugs the laces as tight as they'll go.

Good enough.

"I'm honestly surprised it doesn't make snacks. Mister Stark put everything in this thing."

Drawstrings pulled tight and sleeves rolled up. Spider-Man is ready to go.

"Alright, let's do this."

The chill wind beats down on them the second they leave the rooftop, banging the door open which has to be forced shut again after they've left.

Edited 2019-02-04 20:02 (UTC)

Quiet was for other people that weren't Spider-Men. It's not long before they're ready to go, Miles chuckling faintly at the comment.

"Maybe he's waiting for the next upgrade to install the toaster."

He follows Peter out, shivering even under his layers at the blast of cold air, wasting no time in pushing the door firmly closed again once they're both out. No need to let more heat out than that.

"Probably better to walk it, don't wanna waste web fluid in case we really need it later." To say nothing of who knew how long it'd be until they could make more. Miles didn't really want to think too long about how long everyone was going to be trapped.

"Who knows what we'd latch onto in this wind, anyhow."

Or the exact tensile strength of his webs when introduced to extreme cold. It really wouldn't do to be swinging from one...well, around here it would be one tree to another only to have the web snap partway through. They'd be too low to correct and end up face down in the snow. Not fun, not cool, and most definitely not worth testing out for science right now.

They are Spiders-Men on a mission.

Thankfully not carrying anything or herding folks this time, either. It lets them move quicker across the snow covered paths and their enhanced balance get some work in steadying them when their feet find icy spots.

It hasn't been long since either boy made this trip earlier in the day. They both remember the way back, a path that probably once was part of a park walking path the way it winds between the edge of the plaza and the building where Steve's set up their base. They're in a hurry and not focused on anyone else's safety but their own. Why waste the time taking the long way?

"If we cut through here we can save a good ten-fifteen minutes I think. The path should meet back up on the other side of this outlet mall thing."

There would be time for potentially embarrassing experimentation later. They were on a timer here, what with the impending sundown to race back to the base. If they hustled, they could make it back around sundown or maybe even before it if Peter's suggested shortcut was right. Miles peered at the path before nodding in agreement.

"Yeah I remember seeing that on the way back. The sooner we're there the sooner we're back right?" It might have gone better if the two weren't used to being so resilient. It wasn't often that Miles came across something he couldn't survive so he was maybe a bit more reckless with his own well-being than was wise in this situation. And Peter seemed to have a handle on himself too! They'd be fine.

Or they would have been if the path they'd picked had been the right one. The one that actually let out onto the street proper a few buildings farther down from the one they'd spotted.

Oh well.

It looks almost identical to the path they took back to the main base in the plaza at a glance. With the wind making visibility this poor it seems like an easy win for the spiders. Except the further out they walk the less anything looks familiar. What's worse, the path itself isn't nearly as clear as the one they'd followed in was.

Peter's face has gone from concerned and determined to anxiety ridden and worried a while ago though it's hidden beneath his mask. This doesn't look right. Just how long have they been wandering this way anyhow?

Shouldn't they be there by now? Or at least on familiar turf in the Plaza?

"Hey uhm...maybe...we should go back."

Clearly the spiders weren't gonna be allowed an easy win here. Miles wasn't used to this- even in Central Park, al you had to do was pick a path and stick with it and you'd eventually get pitched out near buildings and a way out. But this wasn't New York and who knew where some of these paths led. No buildings really tall enough to act as anchor points for navigation even with the vision-obscuring winds.

But he had to try and keep calm. Panicking wasn't going to help. And it wasn't going to help Peter stay calm either. Deep breaths.

"Yeah, I'm thinking that might be a good idea..."

Of course glancing back showed another unpleasant side-effect of the wind- a few feet or so back, it seemed that the snow had filled in their footprints, making picking out their path a little more difficult. A few of the deeper prints still existed, some spots where one or the other teen slid and dug up a ridge of snow, but with visibility as it was, backtracking over that was going to be dicey.

Peter remembers how confident Steve had been when he'd broken away from the group on the way out here. How one small mistake had ended with the man blinded in a way normal medicine wasn't going to help fix. He can't help but feel a tightening in his stomach that their hurry to get back to the Plaza might have landed them in the same exact kind of situation.

"Karen, where...?"
"Internal power is dangerously low, Spider-Man. Scanners aren't operating right now. You should find somewhere to take shelter." Okay, that's bad. That's actually really bad. He hadn't even given a thought that the cold might be tampering with his suit. And while Karen wasn't an actual person he doesn't think her vague concern is unfounded, either.

"Okay. Come on. We're not going to make it super far with light fading. We'll hole up in a building somewhere until morning and then head out." Anything's got to be better than standing out here in the snow and the wind turning into Spider-popcicles. Peter manages to sound confident though his heart is thundering with anxiety. They keep on wandering for a good ten minutes more, not sure if they've already been this way or not, before a small structure pops up amidst the constant drifting snow.

"In there!"

Luckily for Peter, Miles was already worrying about managing his own nerves over the situation to notice the way his friend's anxiety suddenly kicked to overdrive. Not a surprising response to the situation though, especially at the idea of being stranded out here at night. The cold was bad enough but the way the perimeter had been closing in on everyone and the creatures beyond it both made that idea more daunting.

But wandering in the dark was an incredibly dumb move, so he nodded in agreement, hunkering a bit farther into his coat as he and Peter picked their way along. The building was small as hell, likely not that much warmer inside than out given it looked like nothing more than a storage shed, but at least it was something out of the snow and wind.

It took a little doing to kick enough of the snowdrift up against the front of the shed clear to get the door opened, but thankfully there was room enough in there, Miles catching Peter by the sleeve to tug in with him, dragging the door shut behind them to block any more chill blasting in than they could help.

"You holdin' up alright man?"

It's almost completely dark by the time they get the snow drug away from the door to the shed. With the door pulled shut once they're inside? It's pitch black. Luckily neither Spider-Man is afraid of the dark, but it's not exactly the most comforting aesthetic when they can hear the wind howling just beyond their little shelter.

Peter stoops to shake off the snow from his person as best as he can, swearing softly whenever his elbows hit the door, Miles, or anything else in the shed they can't see in.

"Hell--sorry. Yeah, I'm fine. Just. Worried about Steve, you know?" Never mind that their own situation wasn't great. It's not warm in here and definitely not insulated. It's out of the wind and snow and that's about it. For now though, it still feels nice compared to outside. "I can't see anything in here though. Guess we should just get comfy and try to wait this out..."

At least it was just the wind howling out there.

Could he jinx himself if he didn't say it out loud? Was thinking it enough to count?

It's definitely a tight fit to keep clear of the clutter of the shed and try not to clock or get clocked by Peter as they were both shedding what snow they could. Even with his eyes starting to adjust to the dark it didn't help much.

"Yeah, I get that. But he's a tough dude, and he's got backup. If anyone can hang in there until things get sorted it's him, right?" It's what the guy did after all. Mindful of where Peter was, Miles felt his way around, trying to see if there was any sort of bench to be cleared, but not finding anything he just let out a low huff and plunked to sit, back against what felt like a barrel. "Never was one for camping."

"He's always taking care of others, like us, is all. This time...this time I wanted to do something for him. Guess it didn't turn out the way I planned is all."

Peter's hands skim across what must be a barrel before they find Miles and after tapping the other's shoulder to make sure Peter knows where he's at he settles in on the ground next to him. It's a tight fit but they're small dudes. He's squished right up next to Miles and honestly given the situation that's probably for the best. Sharing and conserving heat is a thing he's pretty sure he read about before.

"I mean this is just a minor setback, y-you know. We'll get to the plaza first thing in the morning." He has to keep saying that even if he's starting to wonder just how badly they've miscalculated. Gotta stay positive for the younger Spider. "Ah, honestly me neither. Some of my classmates said they've camped upstate before or like in their backyards? I never really did either. I did get trapped in an EX-SHIELD bunker once though and this is kinda like that."

"Let's be real how much of what we do is turning around setbacks, yeah? We'll backtrack in the morning and everything will be good." Miles wasn't about to complain at the moment. Even a city kid knew the concept of bundling up and sticking close to help keep warm. And he definitely made a good candidate for that, as hot as he tended to run even when he wasn't bundled up. As it was he tucked in against Peter's side, bumping his knee lightly against the other teen's in solidarity.

"Mom tried to talk me into boy-scouts when I was a little kid. Most miserable summer of my life, I think I found every bit of poison ivy and poison oak in the whole state by the time she finally relented on the idea."

That's honestly a lot better so far as comfort goes. Already the chill of the shed is starting to sink in, but Miles is warm next to him so Peter shifts to let Miles lean on him as much as the other wants. Sitting still isn't usually something he's good at in any capacity. His anxiety and spider senses keep him on edge and moving more often than not.

But there's no where here to move. And the snow is making everything so quiet. Aside from the wind there's nothing really for his senses to twig on. Even with his eyes adjusting to the dark Peter can see that there's no real sense in getting up.

And it's warm like this. Sitting and talking isn't so bad.

"God, that sounds like the worst. Imagine getting mosquito bites on top of that? My skin just tried to crawl out of itself imagining it. It would itch and sting so much." He leans his head back against the barrel with a sigh. "They didn't teach you anything cool? Like knot tying or whatever? I never joined up either everything I know about the boy-scouts I saw on TV."

It was cold. But then he didn't need to say as much they both knew it. All they could do was stay hunkered in out of the wind, bundle in close and hope it was enough. Thinking of frostbite, Miles shifted just enough to cross his arms and tuck his hands under against his sides. His suit's gloves offered some thermal protection but he'd rather not test that out right now. Not when he was already subtly shivering, chuckling softly at Peter's comments.

Trying to pretend like they were just sitting back at base chatting.

"Nah man, we were all pretty young. Like it was early year cub-scouts stuff, they were just happy to keep us all in the same general place on a trip at that point."

It must be completely dark out by now. Everyone says that whatever has been attacking people has stayed outside of the torch line, but it's all hearsay. That didn't stop Steve from being cursed. They listen and wait, holed up like this in their dark little shelter as the minutes turn to an hour. Then more.

They're both shivering now and again but they're safe. Nothing strange joins the wind in a howl. Nothing claws at the door of their shed.

"My Aunt May likes to tell this story about how when she and my Uncle were younger, they got lost during a storm trying to get back home after a concert. Before the days of GPS and all. Ended up halfway through Jersey before they figured out where they were and got on a road to get home." Peter huffs out a breath that's half chuckle and half shiver. Leans a bit closer to Miles while he's talking. "She tells it better than I could but she talks and talks about how much worse the rain was and how much she's freaking out because they should have been home by now before she grabs me by the shoulders and says--'Peter, I have never been more glad to realize I was in Newark than right at that moment.'--before bursting into laughter and then telling me I don't want to drive. It's too stressful."

She still took him out to parking lots now and again to practice. He's getting better at it. It twists at something in him to know that she's going to be worried sick wondering where he's at. He tucks his knees up a bit tighter to him.

"I never worried about getting lost until now, it's funny."

Everything was as quiet as it was going to be. In a way the wind was a relief, as Miles didn't have to twitch or start at every sound outside their little ramshackle haven. The cold was stressful enough as it was, seeping through layers and he hunkered in even more securely against Peter's side. The shivering becoming more of a constant as time ticked by, but that didn't stop a faint huff of a chuckle at the story Peter told him.

"I think everyone gets lost in Newark at least once in their life. Like a universal constant." He let his head tilt back, thumping lightly against the heavy plastic of the barrel they were sitting by, though the twist in his gut was because of the opposite. If anything happened here, there'd be no family back home to worry sick. If not for Genke he could vanish and no one would be the wiser, not really.

"Mom... always said to think about being lost as a chance to learn something new about the world." He huffed slightly, the sound a little wry. "I think she just didn't want me getting scared if I got turned around, but not a terrible way to look at things."

"So what you're s-saying is that I'm due for getting lost in Newark myself. Have you filled t-the quota for yourself?"

In truth, Peter's having a hard time concentrating enough to be too witty or clever. It's difficult to remember the details of the stories he wants to tell to lighten the mood in here. It's all like a whisper in his head struggling to be overheard over a constant repetition of how cold he is. How they need to get back to the base. If anyone will notice they're not there. It's so cold. Peter gives a full bodied shiver and trails off to listen to Miles. Where May Parker sometimes feeds into his own anxiety and vice-versa, Missus Miles' Mom sounds (sounded, a tiny voice reminds him through the cold) like the sturdy pillar stone of his family. Sort of how Uncle Ben had been for them. He wouldn't want Peter to be panicking now, especially not with someone younger to look after. He'd be giving Peter that same patient look until the youngest Parker realized for himself what the responsible course of action was. It steadies the elder Spider-Man from trembling with anything more than the cold.

He has to be strong for Miles. They're in this situation because of him, the least he can do is hold it together until morning when they can... going out into the cold again makes his stomach turn instinctively. But they have to. They can't stay here. Once it's light out again...

Once it's light out again.

"It's a good way to look at life. " He agrees quietly. "Makes everything seem like...l-like an adventure."

"Y-yep!" God it was cold. Miles wasn't sure if spiders did worse or better than people in the cold, if that trait transferred. Proportional ability to ice up that much faster, wouldn't that be a lark. "10 years old, got my t-transfers crossed and wound up a couple blocks down the way before I realized I wasn't anywhere near where I was supposed to be. got turned around tracing my steps and by the time I f-found my way back, mom had mobilized t-the whole neighborhood."

He tried not to feel the heavy punch in the gut of emotion that came with thinking about how worried she'd looked when he was finally trudging up the stairs to their front door, or how she'd hugged him so tight all the air had wooshed from his lungs for a moment. Tried to pretend he was just shivering from the cold.

"S-she'd be so worried. I've never... been gone this long." Said softly, trying to reel in the tremor to his tone. "Dad too. He..."

Miles stopped abruptly, letting out a quiet, raw huff that might have been a laugh if one tilted their head and squinted for it.

"Man, assuming he even knows, I guess."

Into a Rising Wind

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In retrospect, this was the moment The Plan went to hell

Let's be real here the plan was always doomed

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