Into a Rising Wind

[handsofwinter]

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

Comments

[prescription_grade]

Honestly, Danny would love to compare notes, too. His strengths as a sorcerer are ambition, an inquisitive mind, and a willingness to fail now in order to succeed later. "Yeah, we should talk about it when there's not...you know, all this?" He gestures at the sky through the walls of the tent, which neither of them can see at the moment, but they both know the snow is still falling. It's been falling, there seems no reason it should stop now.

"I want a bag like that," he says, making a face. "Would be a huge help on the street. Could pack food for days. But, yeah, I didn't cast the pocket spell on this one. It's bound to me; my master did it."

Looking at the Encantus text is a little like reading a book in a dream. The letters are very clear and distinct, but overall the order of the words doesn't quite make sense. Still, it's not wholly worthless to look at. Some phrases will jump out at her and be clear enough. Sentences about ritual circles and fire magic, comment about Merlin learning to breathe water like a fish does, and the phrase 'Lady Morgana Who Bows to No Man'.

There are also illustrations, and those are perfectly clear. She can see the symbols for the domains of Morganian magic easily enough, a detailed anatomical diagram of a human heart, and in the back of the book there's a section on history, with portraits of sorcerers of note. Maybe some that aren't of note, too, because Danny sheepishly reaches over and flips a few pages until they come to what is clearly his own portrait. The caption reads, Danny J. Gladstone, Morganian, Appr. Johnathan 'Jack' Shane, AKA Lukas Drakov, AKA Israfil Li Fonti... There are several more AKAs listed, but no picture cross-referencing the other sorcerer.

"There's kind of a directory," Danny explains.

[mudblood_andproud]

There is stories of Merlin and Morgana in Hermione's world. She knows they are different from Danny's... especially after seeing the phrases in the Encantus. She smiles at the illustrations and the portraits.

"This is very remarkable Danny." She smiles at him.

[prescription_grade]

He smiles back, encouraged. "We're not allowed to let non-sorcerers touch 'em," he explains. "But you're a sorceress, so you're okay, I guess?"

"It's all I've got to learn with, is the thing," he says. "At least, unless my master comes back for me."

'Unless' now, not 'until'. "I was reading the healing section a lot. I can do flesh wounds and I was working on learning broken bones but I won't know if I can handle those until I run into one."

[mudblood_andproud]

"Not anymore. We can learn together." Hermione nods with a soft smile.

"Now is the best time to learn and use these spells. It will help you get stronger."

[prescription_grade]

He's thinking about healing magic now, and he's about to tell her something about figuring out how to knit skin together, but what she says strikes more or less right at the heart of him, and he blinks at her, slowly turning pink.

"...Till the Spring comes?" He asks quietly. "Y'promise?"

There's nothing he needs in his life more than a teacher, and a friend.

[mudblood_andproud]

"Even after spring comes. I will be there for you Danny." And a promise like that from a Gryffindor carries a lot of weight.

[prescription_grade]

If Danny were sorted, he'd land right in Slytherin. He's not cruel, though, and while he's been told to look down on non-magical folk, he only manages it about a third of the time. He's just ambitious, and a little bit amoral when it comes to material things, and getting what he wants.

She's completely thrown him off his stride now, though, and his eyes look watery.

"My master's not coming back," he admits. "I'm not sure what I did wrong. But I can do better, I promise."

[mudblood_andproud]

"I may not understand a Master and Student dynamic... since that is not how others learn in my world. But I do think we can be great friends, Danny." Hermione smiles.