handsofwinter: (Falls)
handsofwinter ([personal profile] handsofwinter) wrote in [community profile] nexus_crossings2019-02-02 12:56 pm
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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

eumenis: (portrait)

[personal profile] eumenis 2019-02-23 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
That's one good thing about the Citadel. Even at its worst it wasn't quite so claustrophobic as a research station in the arctic. Even if venturing into the desert was near-certain death, it could be done. You can walk on sand. No so much in deep, dry snow.

She likes Kinner. He's quiet, and matter-of-fact, and seems like he really wants to believe the best of the world around him in spite of his gruffness. Hopefully they'll make it through this winter safely, and with spirits intact.

"Definitely don't let Byrd out." She nods. "Honestly, at this point, if I found a stray Pokemon I didn't know, I'd eat it."

She certainly isn't about to ask anyone to turn in their pets to be snacked on, though. It's not her place, and it seems excessively cruel at this point. If it comes down to Pokemon or humans, her position might change. Hopefully it won't come to that.

"I'm off on a mission soon," she tells him. "I'll have to talk to Palmer when I come back. But I will. I called dibs; he's my Blackthumb 'till Winter ends." She smirks, knowing things don't actually work like that here.
outpostcook: (Default)

[personal profile] outpostcook 2019-02-23 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"You made Palmer your Blackthumb? That's a good choice. I'm guessin' you've had a chance to see him at work. He's a strange bird, but he's an excellent mechanic. I'm amazed the weed doesn't get in the way, but I guess it just doesn't."

Kinner hadn't spent long enough at the Citadel to get clear feelings about the place, though he's not a fan of extreme heat or extreme cold.

"Byrd's staying away from people," Kinner says. "Though I'm thinkin' he might evolve soon. He was actin' a bit strange before the winter came, more energetic than usual. I dunno what Piplups evolve into, but evolved Pokemon are supposed to be more powerful."

He honestly is no expert on Pokemon, so he has a tendency to see them as like the animals in his world, though he wouuld't imagine eating one. They seem too smart for him to be comfortable with that. "Just don't eat Byrd - as a personal favor for me." Kinner smiles. It's a joke. Mostly.

He looks in the direction of the shelter. "Good luck on your mission. If it's all right to share, what's the mission about? I'm wonderin' if you've met those creatures yet. I haven't, but I've heard folks talk about them."
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[personal profile] eumenis 2019-02-24 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Seen him fight, haven't seen him work on engines yet," she says. "But he has a good eye for analyzing an alien spaceship in the field, so I'm sure he's worth keeping."

She knows she doesn't really have a claim on the man, but it makes her feel better to pretend, and it's meant as a compliment to him. "I'll...ask about weed in the spring."

"I won't eat any Pokemon that belong to someone," she promises with a little laugh.

"Yeah. I've seen the creatures. Not sure what to make of them, except that there are a lot of them and they're vicious. We're going after some beacons and weapons supplies. I'm not sure what the endgame is after that, because we can have all the weapons in the world and starve to death, but I have a couple guesses."

"I think we're going to end up fighting the creatures en masse. I'm not sure how that will turn out...but if it's going to happen it needs to be soon, before people start collapsing."
outpostcook: (Default)

[personal profile] outpostcook 2019-02-25 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
Well, Kinner knows Palmer's a taented mecha

"Palmer fights? Never thought the guy had it in him. He didn't seem like much of a fighter to me."

Kinner's genuinely impressed. Palmer didn't seem like much of a combatant, which explained why he needed help to fight the Thing. Maybe Kinner had misjudged him - if Palmer can fight, that's even better when they inevitably confront the alien on its home turf.

"Lemme guess. He tried talkin' to 'em and it ended badly."

He knows Palmer well enough to have an idea of what might have happened. At least his friend hadn't been killed by the creatures.

"Thanks. I figure Byrd's safe around you. He doesn't like bein' crammed in a ball all the time, even if it's for his own safety."

Kinner had wondered if they'd be counterattacking the creatures. It looks like the answer's yes.

"I figure I'll help fight the ice monsters if they're taking people. I'm a pretty good hand with a gun, and I got my mitts on a pistol not too long after the winter started. I'll go volunteer."
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[personal profile] eumenis 2019-02-26 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
"Imminent death brings out skills people didn't know they had," she says wryly. "But I think the way the monsters responded set off his temper. You're exactly right."

She has no problem with that. The important thing is that he wasn't so crazy angry as to do something stupid, he listened to her and Harley's orders, and he contributed to their safe retreat. Not bad for a first run.

"If I make it back from this expedition in one piece, you can bet I'll be there, too," she nods to Kinner. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm not planning on dying, but just in case something goes wrong for me and not for you, you've been to my world not long ago. Check on Ace and the girls for me, and let 'em know what happened. Only if I don't live, though."
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[personal profile] outpostcook 2019-02-26 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Kinner's impressed. "Didn't know Palmer had much of a temper. Always seemed pretty laid-back to me. But if someone tried to kill me, I reckon I'd be pissed off. Pardon my language. Guess even Palmer can be pushed too far."

"I want to help out," he continues. "Reckon Palmer will be there, too, if he was as mad as you say he was. I'm ex-military. A decent hand with firearms. I'll be useful, is what I'm getting at. In more than one way."

He turns to Furiosa, thinking. He hadn't considered the possibility of death, since he can never return to his world. He'll never see his family or his expedition mates again. But Furiosa is a leader. She's the McReady of her world. McReady comes to mind when Kinner thinks of leadership more than the ineffectual-if-well-meaning Commander Garry.

Kinner nods in response to Furiosa's question. "You got my word on that. If you don't make it back, I'll go to your world and check up on your friends. Tell 'em what happened, too. That's a promise."
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[personal profile] eumenis 2019-03-01 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)
'Pardon my language' he says, and Furiosa blinks at him for a second, then breaks into a grin. Oh, Kinner, she has heard so much worse swearing than that, but he's from a different time and place and trying to be a gentleman, and that's adorable.

"Good. I like to know I have people I can trust at my back. I don't know him as well, but he's proved himself, and I know I'm good with you." A high compliment, from her. She's a little picky about choosing her Crew.

Her expression softens a little at his promise, and she nods, offering an armclasp. "Here's hoping it won't come to that, but it eases my mind a little. Ace approves of you. I'd rather he hear bad news from someone he likes. But I'll do my best to spare you from having to do the job."
outpostcook: (Default)

[personal profile] outpostcook 2019-03-03 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm glad you think I can handle it. You can trust me." A solemn promise from the cook, who crosses his heart with a gloved finger before he accepts the armclasp. Kinner takes his promises seriously, and he wants Furiosa to know that.

"Ace. I remember him, back at the, uh, Citadel. I think that's what you call it. Decent man, a bit rough 'round the edges, like me. Hope your friends are doin' well, back in your home world. I'd be worried about mine, but I reckon it's out of my hands now."

Kinner still hopes a member of his crew will drop by eventually so he can learn what happened after he was killed by the Thing. He especially wants to learn if the monster is dead, so the threat to his world has been dealt with. The Thing is hypothetically a threat to entire planets.
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[personal profile] eumenis 2019-03-07 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"We call it the Citadel, or the New Green Place, and sometimes the Green Towers." She nods. "Ace is...a little like family, to me. He taught me a lot of the the Blackthumb work I know, and how to hold onto a moving vehicle. And he was the first man I put on my Crew when I was named Imperator."

"The stories we could tell you," she smiles and shakes her head.

"You know how it is when you fight beside someone for a long time. Something kind of bond forms that's not quite like any other relationship a person can have."
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[personal profile] outpostcook 2019-03-08 07:54 am (UTC)(link)
"I'd say I felt that way about my team back where I came from. We didn't see eye to eye on everything, but until the Thing showed up we were doing just fine. It's a shame things ended the way they did. I just hope I can find out what happened to everyone else one of these days. The Thing has to have caught more people than just me."

Kinner matches her smile, but his is more than a little sad.

"I'd mention my old Army crew, but by 1938 there weren't so many of us left. People who didn't die in battle died of the Spanish flu."