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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Despite his history, Isidor had become used to Felix being Jim's shadow as the storm raged. Seeing him near the captain again didn't raise a single suspicion. The flash of magic, however, sets her on her feet so fast her chair falls over.

Stress and hunger have taken their toll on her, and even with her instinctive reactions there's a clumsiness to her motions. Her eyes flit from Felix to Jim to the atronach... When she was at full strength she could take down the bone monstrosity Felix created, but now even that thing gives her pause. She can't just abandon Jim, though...

Isidor's gaze moves from the unconscious captain to Felix and she steps forward, following at a careful distance, keeping in time with the mage. Her right arm hangs stiffly, not quite casting, but the heated air around her hand wobbles and hisses against the cold.

"You bring him back," she commands quietly. "You let him tell me that."

"Nice try." Felix laughs a little at that. Between the onlookers who are confused and those shocked by the sudden kidnapping and those wondering if they should step in, the cafe's fallen quiet enough for them to hear each other easily. "Didn't my brother tell you? I don't do as I'm told."

He's trying to keep an eye on the room around them, but the shimmer of air around the Durant mage's hand has his attention. He keeps his off hand ready with a ward and steps back carefully: easy for people to forget that he's a trained swordsman, perhaps, but he moves with confidence, aware of his surroundings. Part of his mind still tuned to the icy monster lifting an arm to hammer the door open.

"We both know what would happen," he says, as the door slams out the wrong way and the frame splinters. The cold wind rushes in, snow twirling around the bulk of the atronach. "Jim would drain his last ounce of strength before he'd save himself. Throw himself on the fire without a thought. He'd break himself for this. But I forbid it." There's nothing friendly in the flash of the Imperial's smile. "You see, he has a Patron too."

He keeps his defenses up as he backs out into the snow, lowers his head a little. "Don't try to follow us. Isidor. Any of you. You'll find the path we take isn't welcoming to others."

Danny's not sure how to cope with this. On the one hand, it's probably the most badass thing he's seen in his entire life. Just...sweep in with your magical conscript and grab your man and sweep back out?? It's glorious. He wishes he had a camera.

On the other hand, he might feel just a teeny bit used. Not that he expected to be invited to escape to wherever just because he helped out a little. He made a bargain and he got paid. Still, it would have been nice to have a clearer idea what he was enabling.

Oh, well. There's always a chance with high-level magic of things going incredibly badly wrong, so he's missing out on that risk, too. He'll be all right here.

"You could've bloody asked someone to open the door, though," he says, shivering in the blast of air. "I'd have done it. Now we're going to have to fix it after you've left."

The insolence of all of this! After everything she's done. After all she's sacrificed, and he's taking Jim away from her? She needs him! She needs his wisdom, his experience... She needs her friend. "I wouldn't have let him!" She snaps furiously. "I was protecting him!"

If they start a fight here, now, there will be casualties. Far too many casualties, and Jim might end up being one of them. Isidor's not strong enough to do this cleanly, efficiently. She can't risk the safety of so many others in an attempt to keep the captain.

So she keeps pace with Felix, not quite making a move. If there's an opportunity, she'll take it, but there's not much else she can do.

"You could have gotten away and you didn't." Her stiff lower jaw trembles bitterly. "And now you're leaving us all here to rot? You're not even taking us with you?" Isidor's lips pull up in a sneer. "I wish I'd be there to see Jim wake up, just so I could see how ashamed he'll be of you. Coward."

Oh. Danny's here. Felix's gaze flits over to him, though he doesn't dare turn away from Isidor. He's seen what she can do. There's a twinge of guilt, knowing he's abandoning the younger mage here - but it's not like the kid is his apprentice or anything. Danny's not a child and he knows a thing or two about taking care of himself. Still...

"So sorry about that. You know how it is when you're making a getaway..." His blithe remarks trail off at Isidor's anger. The heat that gives way cold, blunt words. There's truth in them. He's not taking any of them. He doesn't think he could, not this way, not the only way he has... but he didn't try, either.

Nor is that what he cares about most.

"You, protect him? You have no idea how. No idea what you've been doing to him!" His burst of anger cools as fast as he blurts it out, replaced with a cold lump in his stomach. He stares back at Isidor, her voice ringing in his ears. Coward. A name he's cheerfully shrugged and taken before but it stings this time. He's been a better man than he used to be. He's actually done his duty. He's done... the only thing he can.

"I'm not like him, Isidor," he says then. "I don't know about you. I'm not a hero. I can't save everyone." The snow crunches under his boots. "Just this one."

He remembers to shoot a glance at Danny before he's quite out of the doorway. "Hey. Follow me for a minute."

Later on, Danny might feel bad about being ditched, or something, but one of his defining characteristics is enjoying a show. This is probably very serious, given they're all as likely as not to starve to death, and he suspects whatever Felix is doing has potential injury or death as a result too, but he's still delighted by the spectacle.

Isidor's response is less delightful. Her emotions are palpable, even from where he's standing, and he has to resist the urge to duck and slink into the crowd, even though her attention's not on him. He hasn't exchange a word with her since his arrival, but he got the impression she was no one to be trifled with, and watching her now just reinforces that impression.

When Felix asks him to follow, he starts to move, glances warily at Isidor, and then darts after the man like a skittish cat. Whatever he's got to say, Danny wants to hear it.

Felix is careful to face behind them until they're well clear of the door, at which point he turns and hurries through the snow after the atronach. It's plowing an inexorable path through the falling snow, and catching up makes him grateful that people have been out clearing snow from the road. He has to duck his head against the wind, but looks aside as Danny's footsteps join his.

"If you have any route out of the Nexus, take it," he says. His eyes are dark beneath his silver-grey hood. "If not, keep your head down. This- the storm, the monsters, all of it- we haven't seen the worst of this Winter yet."

It's kind of a struggle to keep up with the older sorcerer. Danny's a city kid; he's been on survival training before in low temperatures and high altitudes, but this much snow is a lot to cope with. Something about the way Felix's face looks when he turns to him wipes away his excitement at the drama unfolding. Dread drops into his belly like a lead weight.

"Mate, I don't even know how I got here in the first place. I'm stuck here for the duration." His gaze flickers across Felix's face, trying to read him, looking for what he's not saying.

"What's coming? How do you know?" You can't just drop a warning like that with no details, Felix. Danny looks terrified.

There's that guilt again, knifing through him hot and unexpected when he sees how frightened the kid is. He didn't mean to do that... and yet, maybe he shouldn't regret it. The boy ought to be afraid. They all should.

"I don't know what. I just know..." He's quiet for a moment or two. They've turned around to the far side of the cafe and now he silently directs the atronach into a side street.

"I made a bargain," he says. There's a bundle of furs rolled up against the wall: Felix spreads them out on the snow in a double layer, lets the atronach lay the unconscious captain down on top before he wraps Jim up securely, face exposed so he can breathe. The icy elemental stands watch over them, silent but for the slow creak of ice that emanates from its body. Its freezing aura, fortunately, has no effect on the humans standing so close.

Felix tugs the furs tighter and looks into his husband's face, trying to think how to explain. To Danny. Obviously. "I bargained with someone who does know, truly, what is happening to this place. And they told me that Winter is not finished with the people here."

Weeks to go until spring. That much he could have guessed. It's the way she told him...

He pulls a potion bottle from his satchel and props Jim's head up so he can pour some down Jim's throat- just a few drops first, to check he swallows on reflex.

Danny doesn't want to die here. He's willing to bet no one does.

"Can you tell me what you know? Or does that fuck up the bargain?" His voice is thin and frightened, but he's looking for loopholes. He's got street-kid pluck, if not much else noteworthy about him.

"I mean, anything you tell me I can pass along. Or not. I mean, if you tell me not to, I won't. Maybe...maybe they just meant that next Winter's going to be bad, too? Like this one will end but we'll get a chance to prep for the next time?" Because he could deal with that. Potentially by leaving, but hey. Could work.

He crouches a little to watch what Felix does, then looks up, up, up at the atronach and gives it a wary nod hello.

Above them, the atronach remains indifferent as a cliff face. Felix almost smiles. Almost. He's willing to share with Danny what he can, if only to assuage his guilt: the trouble is there's precious little he has to offer.

"They... asked me if I thought a few wolves and missed meals were the worst in store for us. Whether I really believed Winter had had its fill of blood." His sigh puffs cloudy in the cold air. "I'm sorry, all right? I wasn't pressing for answers. I already knew I had to get him out. But I really, truly don't think she meant next Winter."

Which makes it all the harder to walk away from the kid. Felix fumbles in his satchel, pulls out one of the bigger potions of frost resistance and nudges Danny.

"Here. Look... don't use it unless you have to, but it's more potent than the others. If you have to hide in a snowdrift it'll... keep you warm enough for a few hours."

Huh. Okay, big ice guy doesn't care about politeness one way or another. That's okay with Danny. It just never hurts to be civil with supernatural creatures. Not that he's met many up close.

"You don't have to...say sorry to me." Danny looks genuinely confused by the apology. It's not that he thinks Felix is his Master or anything. No one has officially taken on that responsibility, and the one who's come closest is Hermione. But he definitely outranks him as a sorcerer is concerned, and Morganians do not apologize to their underlings.

Mystified, he nods his understanding. "I mean. You're not the one in charge of the weather, so no hard feelings. Are your chances good, the way you're going?"

He's even more floored by the gift of the frost potion, taking it without question. He looks it over for a second, then breaks into a grin, shoving aside the dread in favor of cheek and desperate optimism. "Thanks! As long as you're still feeling guilty, how about you promise to teach me how to make 'em in the Spring?"

Felix hesitates, like maybe he regrets apologizing a little if he didn't actually have to, but- well. It's not only Danny he's apologizing to. Jim's unconscious face in front of him; Isidor's parting words behind him...

Danny's view is so much less complicated. No hard feelings. Sounds like something Felix would say. A smile creeps onto his face as he nods- and then can't help but laugh a little, at the cheeky attempt to bargain. "Nice try. But- you know what? All right. If we're both back here in the Spring, then we'll talk alchemy."

He gets to his feet, brushing snow off his knees. The big elemental stoops to pick Jim up again now that the captain has a potion warding away frostbite. Felix adjusts his satchel and shrugs. "The path we're taking, our odds are... good, I think. But if I'm wrong- well, wish me luck, Danny, and I'll do the same for you."

Possibly Danny's only less complicated because he's a goddamn teenager. He's got plenty of abandonment issues, but maybe he hasn't had time to get too clingy with Felix yet. At the moment, he's mostly just pleased he rates a goodbye and an apology.

He gives a subtle squirm at the reluctant assent, like an excited puppy. He might have been terrified sixty seconds ago, and he'll certainly be terrified again sixty seconds after Felix leaves, but that doesn't dampen his momentary optimism. "I'll hold you to that," he says.

He'll survive the winter out of sheer stubbornness, to hold him to that.

"'Good'," he repeats, with a raised eyebrow, and decides not to ask for details. He glances down at Kirk and adds, "Well, maybe I'll get to meet him when he's conscious some time. Best of luck, man. Both of you. Uh...all three of you?"

"Sure." Felix flashes him a grin. "That'll serve nicely. Good luck to you, Danny."

With that, the conjurer turns away and walks into the storm, his hulking minion and unconscious husband at his side. Together they head out into the freezing wind and gathering dark beyond the torches.

It's a long march ahead to their destination.

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Into a Rising Wind

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