nexus_crossings | Into a Rising Wind

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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

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By the time Kinner gets into the little shed and passes his flashlight over the dark little storage area the kid in the red costume has pulled his buddy in a black costume fully into his arms, limp though the other was, and had huddled up into the furthest corner away from all the growling, snuffling, and scratching against the door. He's clearly crying by the sounds coming from him and the tremble of his shoulders, even though he still has his mask on.

"C-come on man.." Peter hiccups around his own choked back sobs but looks up at the people trying to squeeze into this tiny shed. After a few seconds too long he starts struggling to get to his feet, refusing to let go of the younger man. "Help. Help him!"

With the door open and providing at least a paltry shelter against the wind, Matt tucks himself into the doorway rather than crowding the space further, and now that the kid who's conscious is talking instead of screaming, he abruptly realizes he does know the kid's name.

But the one who's out cold - Miles? - is of greater concern right now, because that's not natural sleep holding him under, and there's very little warmth coming off him. "We're taking both of you back," Matt answers firmly. There'll be no one left behind on his watch, no matter how far gone. "Kinner, your pack, did you bring blankets?"

Blankets aren't going to be enough though. They need real warmth, and real shelter, and this shed was good enough to keep them alive this long but it's not going to help much more than it already has. Which means getting them back ASAP. Matt casts a considering ear at the breathing, furry wall at his back, and wonders how hard it'll be to get Miles tied to the werewolf's back for faster transport back to the safehouse. Assuming Harrow even allows it, and he damn well better.

"Don't worry, Matt - I did."

Kinner's met Miles and Spider-Man before, but he didn't put together that they were the same person until now. In any case, he's got bigger concerns - like helping the two kids reach safety. Miles looks like he's in pretty bad shape. He rummages in his knapsack - thankfully, he did bring blankets to warm the two Spider-Men up. Now it's a matter of helping them back to shelter for warmth and any needed medical treatment.

"Folks back home were worried 'bout you two," he tells them as he takes the blankets out. "Harrow here, he helped us find you. It's a good thing you found this shed, or you'd have been in even bigger trouble." Kinner's impressed at the kids' presence of mind, honestly.

Peter's not in any real state to talk, at least not with any real sense. He's freezing and with the door open all he can do is shiver harder and stumble back to his knees again though he refuses to let go of the younger Spider-Man for even a second the entire way. It's not that he's trying to ignore what Kinner's saying or even Matt's declarations.

He simply can't focus on anything other than how cold he is, how terrified he is for Miles' safety, and the tugging cold that makes him leaden and tired too.

"Help him.." He repeats, quieter this time. Begging. "He won't respond. I-I tried to help. I tried to keep him warm I did I tried--"

"You did good, Peter," Matt says, lowering his voice a little, trying to sound soothing enough to cut through the panic and adrenaline that're keeping the kid upright, to maybe help his subconscious realize that help is here, even if that ends with him passing out too. "You did everything right. But you've got to let us have him so we can help him, okay?"

Kinner focuses his energy on helping the two Spider-Men. From the look of things, Miles is in worse shape than Peter, though both of them need help. He puts the blankets down so that Peter can help Miles. "You able to stand, Peter? Harrow here will be able to help you, but we're gonna need to get both of you onto his back so we can get to shelter. Then we'll get you warmed up. It won't be much longer, you've got my word on that."

Peter.

The name sinks in past the numb haze of panic and fatigue. If Matt were in reach he'd be clinging to the man and hugging him but he's not and Miles is still in his arms so Peter bends forward and buries his head into the younger boy's neck while a sob wracks through him before he nods slowly and finally...finally. Loosens his grip so that Kinner and Matt can do what they came out here to do.

He'll walk (stumble) where he's told though he does have to be urged to go back out into the cold they won't have any trouble nudging him along and even seeing Harrowheart in his towering worgen form doesn't make Peter panic anymore than he already is. If he's helping Miles then at this point even the Devil Himself would be a welcome sight. He won't be awake for much longer himself, one last plea to make sure Miles is okay dying on his lips when the cold finally claims him.

"Good, Peter, we've got you." Matt can feel the boy faltering with every step and grabs hold before he can collapse altogether, which he does right about when Matt expects him to.

Harrow is no doubt throwing him a dirty look about being used as a mount, but too bad for him Daredevil can't (or refuses to) see it, and despite a great deal of grumbling and whining, the worgen lowers himself to allow Kinner and Matt to tie the boys to his back, wrapped in as many blankets as they can manage to secure along with them. It isn't going to be the most comfortable ride, so it's a good thing they're both unconscious.

Kinner takes charge, carefully tying both Peter and Miles to Harrow's back. He's fairly experienced at tying knots, so sets to work right away. They're both out cold, but if they make it back to the shelter they should be all right. It could've been a lot worse, Kinner thinks, images of headless and mangled corpses in his head. He'd been bracing himself for unwanted company, but it looks like they got lucky this time.

"We got lucky," Kinner says once he's secured Miles. "I was worried those critters Palmer got attacked by would come after us. I'm surprised they didn't. Not that I'm gonna complain."

"Don't jinx us yet," Matt warns him, not quite managing a smile, because it's really not all that funny. "We've still got to make it back, so don't let your guard down."

Backtracking on a fresh trail is easier than following one that's hours old, fortunately, and it takes far less time for the group to trudge back through the snow to the safety of the main camp. Matt leaves Kinner and Harrow to finish escorting the kids to the infirmary, making his way back to the safehouse in search of Steve.

By the time he gets there, he's half frozen himself, hands tucked firmly into his armpits to keep them warm. "Captain?" he calls out, as soon as he's in earshot of whoever's on watch. "We found them."

Steve has been pacing. That he's been pacing outdoors is probably the only thing that's kept him from wearing holes in the floor. He shouldn't have let them go. He should never have let them go, and what if Reynard or whatever force cursed him wasn't satisfied, what if they don't come back--

He can hear Bucky screaming as he falls from the train, and it's so loud in his head he has to consciously remind himself it's a memory.

Matt's voice breaks through his reverie like a brick smashing through a window. He jolts where he stands, and then catches his breath and forces himself to focus. "You found them." He's so relieved his voice doesn't crack. "Are they all right?"

Matt closes the distance, homing in on that strong steady heartbeat, which is still racing in worry. "They're alive," he answers, which isn't the same as 'all right' and they both know it, which is why he doesn't pause before continuing. "They're both hypothermic, but I think we got to them just in time. Peter was still conscious when we found them. Kinner and the tracker are taking them both to the infirmary."

He's not gentling his voice, like he might if he thought he was delivering bad news, and there's nothing in the way he speaks that hints he's trying to save Steve any heartbreak. He means what he says, and the news isn't the best, but it's way better than it could be.

It's not that he's indifferent to the situation, but practicality is a necessity for somebody who has lived through multiple world wars and private wars, plagues, the Inquisition, and a series of personal crises. When they went to the Nexus to fetch help, Horvath was operating on very little sleep, and while the search party is out there he has little to do but wait. Catching up so he'll have the energy to do something about healing them up later seems the best course of action.

In between patients and awaiting the return of the search party, Horvath is dozing in the medical tent, coat wrapped close around him and hands tucked under his arms. He wakes at their arrival though, jerking upright with a snort. On the one hand, they're back! On the other hand, two limp forms slung over the back of the wolf-man is a disheartening sight and at first glance he's not sure if his services are needed or not.

He staggers up to his feet, using the table for balance and groping for his cane groggily, but the suggestion of breathing from one of the boys tells him what he needs to know. "If you could lay them down somewhere- I'll have to bring their temperatures up slowly, I'm afraid. Magic doesn't prevent the risk of shock." It does circumvent the need for a heating source though, and he can probably dry out their clothes if he needs to. In less than a minute he's gone from asleep to ready to get to work.

Edited (edited because too many locations) 2019-03-15 02:01 (UTC)

"Infirmary," Steve repeats after Matt, like an echo. "But they're alive. And Peter was conscious." It's like he has to say it aloud himself to let it sink in properly.

He takes another deep breath, pulling himself together, and reaches out to squeeze Matt's shoulder. "I can't thank you enough. I...I need to see them."

Uh. Yeah, that's not going to happen in a literal sense right now. "I need to visit them," he amends, sounding depressed. "Can you walk me to the infirmary? I can have Rory and Clement, Perspicacious run things for a little while. Horvath is already at the infirmary."

Matt can afford to be patient, to give Steve the time he needs to let that sink in properly. The kids are as safe as they're going to be, and they're receiving the best medical care the Nexus can offer at present. And after the hours of worrying that the captain's been through, it's more than understandable that he needs a minute.

"Of course." Even though Matt really wants to find somewhere warm and get the feeling in his toes back, he knows exactly how it feels to be left floundering in the dark when you desperately need to get to the side of a loved one in trouble. His own physical comfort comes second, every time.

He guides Steve's hand to his elbow, and sets off in the direction of the medical tent.

And anyone who makes a 'blind leading the blind' joke will be summarily punched in the face.

"I owe you," Steve says quietly as they go, and you can bet this time he's got no interest in straying off the path. "Neither of them seems to be from my world, but I...guess I've gotten attached."

He owes Harrow and Kinner thanks, too, but Matt's the one who's here right now, a solid reassuring figure he didn't expect to need, or to get if he asked for one.

You'd better believe Matt is paying very close attention to backtracking correctly, listening up ahead for the sounds of activity in the medical tent to home him in on their destination. If they were to get lost too, they'd never live it down. Assuming they survived, that is.

Being personally thanked by Captain America is not really what Matt expected to happen when he first found this place, but after everything that's happened since, he takes it in stride. "They're good kids," he agrees softly. "Peter helped me out, the first time I was here. If you want to pay me back, just keep paying that forward."

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Into a Rising Wind

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