nexus_crossings | The Silence of the Storm

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event

The Silence of the Storm

Rations have been cut. Again. Everyone is on one bowl of watery soup a day. Sometimes with crackers, sometimes not. Most people are too tired and weak to do much more than sit around and talk, and nobody discourages them in the slightest. Work has to be rotated constantly as people weaken quickly, but the fires still need to burn, people still need to guard the cooks and rations, and the sick still need to be tended to. Soon the hardest job is keeping up morale while the big expedition comes back. All the gods and heavens of the multiverse help them if they don’t come back with supplies, and soon.

The boundaries have tightened to an almost suffocatingly small space. It doesn’t take much to imagine where they will be by the end of Winter, which at least makes planning a little easier. People are already relocating to deeper in the Plaza. Unfortunately it means that those who have enough energy to often end up fighting with their neighbours, as the close quarters tests everyone’s patience. There are a few spaces carved out for like minded people to shelter from the dreary situation. Mechanics and those like them have set up a nice little place close to the Crossroads Café, and a break area for those helping the sick is sheltered in a room behind the injured and ill. Zandros moves from groups to individuals, looking for help in creating some form of morale boosting display that will adhere to Isidor's instructions. People are surviving in whatever ways they can, but it's reaching breaking point.

((It's the Final Event Post, everyone! OOC Post is here! This is for those stuck at the hub while the Main Expedition is going on. There will be a second part to this post for the Return of the Expedition. In the meantime, have fun!))

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"Save your money, friend," says the large, bearded man behind the counter. "There's no more coffee, but I can make you some tea."

He is, in fact, already in the process of doing so. Or at least boiling water. The amount of tea leaves in the glass jar next to the pot suggest that it won't be a particularly strong brew, but it's better than nothing.

"There are spare clothes in the corner if you are looking for something warmer." He frowns sympathetically. "Are you new to the Nexus?"

"Thanks, guy. But really I was just looking for some place out of the cold. Some excuse to stay here a while."

"Yeah! I am." Finally, about time for some answers. He leans forward eagerly. "I saw the whole introduction thing outside, but it doesn't explain all of this at all." He gives a sweeping gesture encompassing the coffee shop refugees.

"What's up with this place!?"

"You certainly don't need an excuse. No one wants to spend more time outside than necessary."

He adds some tea leaves to a strainer, then pours hot water through it, into a mug. The rest he sets aside, in case this long-eared man changes his mind.

"What's up," he begins, setting the mug in front of him and his hands flat on the counter, "Is that we are in the midst of a terrible snowstorm. The Nexus is home to a whole variety of beings from various dimensions. One of them happens to be a disgruntled Winter spirit." He pauses a moment before adding, "That's the going theory, anyway. This storm has been raging for months, encompassing more and more of the Nexus, so it is certainly not natural."

There is a tiredness in his eyes that seems to support his claim, but there is a small sparkle of amusement, too. "My name is Prometheus, by the way. If you'd like to call me something other than 'guy'."

He sighs gratefully and reaches out for the cup with long fingers. "This is not what I expected when I went to pick up some takeout. So. We just appease the winter spirit and the door gets unstuck?"

He looks up at the stranger's eyes and his ears sag a little. Sure the man's amused but he looks like he's been through something here. It might take more than just appeasing the spirit.

"Prometheus. That's a classic. I'm Peter Lussmore." He gives a professional nod.

"That's terrible timing," Prometheus notes with a sympathetic wince. As for appeasing the Winter spirit, Prometheus shakes his head. "I don't think so. Whether he is responsible for all aspects of this storm or not, I can't help but feel like this is what he wants. For humans -- and other mortals -- to feel the full effects of Winter."

Nature spirits, at least in his experience, have little concern for mortals.

"Ah, you've heard of me? Or just the name?" He smiles. "It's nice to meet you, Peter. I wish it was under better circumstances. Where are you from?"

"Yeah, it's getting what it wants then. I've been feeling the winter pretty hard. But not as hard as everyone else, it looks like."

"I know the story" he says cautiously. "The Greek one. Were you named after it?"

"I was in Dallas when I came here. You? How long have you been stuck here?"

"You only just got here," he remarks. "Many of the people here have lived in the Nexus for years."

There's an awkward pause while he considers the question. He hears the caution in Peter's voice, and does not want to spook him. "It was named after me," he finally replies. "I'm the Titan of Forethought."

He leans agains the counter, looking a bit surprised. "Dallas, as in Texas?" It's throwing him off a little, this inhuman with a common name from a familiar city. "Oh, I arrived in the Nexus several months ago, long before the storm. I had a pottery studio in the Shopping District... I had to abandon it when the torches got too close. The storm has been closing in, you see. Centering on the Plaza. That's why it's so crowded here. It's not normally like this at all."

"..." he says, then closes his mouth. He's unsure if this is a joke or what.

"I wasn't expecting a Titan. Especially not one who knows where Dallas, Texas is." His tone is mild. "Yeah, I've been there for a while...hold on, you've been trapped here for months!?"

"You'll meet all manner of people here," he says simply, giving Peter time to take it in. Although he does have to chuckle a bit at his statement. "Of course I know where Dallas, Texas is. I'm from Earth, after all. I'll admit, I've never met your kind before."

The question makes him shake his head. "No, not trapped. There are normally portals that let people travel to and from the Nexus as they please. As well as small electronic devices called PINpoints." He takes what looks like a smartphone out of his pocket and shows it to Peter. "These let you teleport to coordinates of your choosing. But when the storm arrived in early January, the portals froze over and the PINpoints stopped working."

"I met a dinosaur..." if a dinosaur, why not a Titan? But it's hard to believe since the man looks so human.

"I'm not surprised you haven't met any goblins. I almost never meet any myself. Wait, though. Aren't you supposed to be chained to something?" His eyes narrow in thought, but Prometheus' next words make him stop caring whether it's all a joke.

"Frozen? You mean the storm knocked out the network?"

"So have I! Did he use a whiteboard to communicate?" He smiles, thinking of his encounter with Indoraptor, but that smile does not last. The storm must be hard on the sentient dinosaur, who is not built for such cold weather.

"Well, it is an honor to meet you." The Titan's eyes light up in curiosity. "Your kind is rare, even on your own world? Are there other sentient species who aren't human?"

It's been a while since anyone has brought up the "chained to a mountain" incident, although with the cruelty of the storm, the Titan's thoughts are never too far from those long nights that he shivered in the cold, waiting for his liver to regrow so it could be eaten anew by that wretched eagle. "Hercules freed me," he says flatly. "You've heard of him, yes? He killed the eagle that Zeus sent to torture me, and broke my chains. I've been living among humans ever since."

He returns his PINpoint to his pocket. "Something like that. That's why this is no ordinary storm."

Edited 2019-03-15 13:12 (UTC)

"That's the one. I don't know how he puts up with such a small space. Or the cold."

"Eh..." he shrugs. "Not rare, exactly. But less than the number of humans and they stick together a lot. I don't run into many, but sure, there are lots of species. Lots of dwarves, the non human kind." He counts them off on his hand. "Orcs, elves. Elves are pretty rare. Rock giants. Not sure how intelligent those are, I don't know if shifters count and, uh, kappas maybe. I was never very good at social studies."

That was kind of long-winded. He pauses. "Oh. I never heard that part." He still has questions but the man seems to believe what he's saying and he's not going to argue.

"Hold on, did it freeze magically. If there's a way for it to freeze, maybe there's a way to unfreeze it. By, I don't know, insulation or heat packs. Something. I can't stay here!"

"He likes having company now and then. And if you think it's bad outside, the Wilds are even worse. He probably wants to stay close to the torches, too."

Prometheus listens thoughtfully while Peter lists the races of his world. Aside from the rock giants, these are creatures he has only heard about in fantasy novels, or in those movies that were super popular for a time. "It would take too long to list the number of sentient species where I'm from, but like goblins, they tend to stick to their own kind. How did you end up in Dallas? Is that where you grew up?"

It's the Titan's turn to look skeptical, but only for a moment. He sighs and shrugs. "It doesn't matter. At least I was freed. I'll always be grateful to Hercules for that."

"If there was a way to unfreeze portals, someone would have done it by now. But I'll tell you what. We can go back to where you stepped through and I'll see if there's anything I can do." He points at Peter's mug. "Finish your tea first and find something more suitable to wear in the pile of clothes there. I won't have you frostbitten in the storm."

"I guess so, since it's freezing. He seems like a good guy?" He takes a drink of the tea.

"We have a lot more, but yeah it would take too long to list. I'm not native to Dallas, but it's a big city, there's work in the tech field."

"Maybe no one's thought of every way yet. I'll go with you." He shudders a little at the thought of the cold. "And thanks." He takes another long sip and eyes the clothing, speculating whether any of it would fit and whether he could try wearing all of it at the same time. He hates the cold.

"He hasn't eaten anyone in the Nexus, so I believe he is."

It's worth checking out Peter's portal. Even if it is frozen over, it might give a clue as to how the storm is spreading. So long as they do not stray too far from the torches.

While Peter finishes his tea, Prometheus rifles through the spare clothing, looking for anything that might fit. Peter is on the small side, but that puts him at an advantage, able to wear women's or even perhaps some large children's sizes. If he's not picky about color or style, he can outfit himself in a warm overcoat and accessories.

"The tech field? What do you do specifically?" He picks up a wool hat and contemplates whether it will fit over Peter's ears. "Have you found that difficult, to be a goblin among humans?"

"Uh..." Peter reflects that if everyone here is going hungry maybe the raptor was as well. Not a comforting thought. "Good. That's good."

Despite his somewhat long arms, it isn't too hard to find clothing. He'll take the overcoat gladly, though he shakes his head at the hat, goes over and pulls out a scarf instead.

"I'm in the sigils department right now. Development. It's a new thing. But I've had a lot of different positions. What about you? You talk like you've worked on portals a lot. Did you do that at home too?"

"Being a goblin among humans...it's okay" he says carefully.

"There are problems but humans are a lot more fair than they used to be. If you prove yourself, lots of people are willing to give you a chance."

He ties the scarf over his head.

Edited 2019-03-17 02:56 (UTC)

The thought had crossed the Titan's mind as well. Hopefully the dinosaur can last a little while longer. He's certainly better behaved than some of the mortals in the Plaza shelters. This winter is taking its toll on everyone.

'Sigil' is not a word he would have associated with the tech field. "Is this magic-related?" he asks, before shaking his head. "My experience isn't with portals. I'm a craftsman by trade. After Hercules freed me, I knew I wouldn't have a place in Olympus, so I lived among humans, helping them polish their skills. Pottery, in particular. I always liked working with clay."

"That's been my experience with humans, as well." He certainly didn't make them to be prejudiced, but he knows that's a problem of theirs. "And the other races? How do they feel about humans?"

While Peter suits up, Prometheus grabs his overcoat from behind the bar. He has a balaclava that he slips over his head, along with the fur-lined hood and a thick pair of gloves. He isn't messing about in this weather. "All right, take me to where you arrived in the Nexus. We'll see what we can do."

"Yeah, a bit magical. It's still in development." One of his claws catches in the weave of the scarf and he hisses and carefully withdraws it.

"Huh. I wouldn't have thought pottery, but I don't know a lot about Greek myth. I can see how having something to do would help, wouldn't it?"

"They all feel differently I guess. But they're resigned to having lots of humans around the place." He puts his coat on finally and braces himself for the cold. "Humans just fight each other now mostly. I'm ready. Let's go."

He'll lead Prometheus out to the spot, an inconspicuous looking place.

"So people continue to practice magic on your world? You say it's in development. Has it not been practiced before?" He shrugs a shoulder as he follows Peter outside. "I like to feel productive. Mentoring is my passion, but revealing myself as a Titan is complicated. And people are often suspicious of mysterious layabouts."

Peter's comment on humans fighting one another leaves a small grimace on his face, mostly hidden by his woolen mask. This is something he is familiar with as well.

The chill outside is as strong as if's ever been. There has been no lull in this weather for months, as evidenced by the snowdrifts that only increase in size when they leave the safety of the Plaza. Prometheus follows easily, and squints at the rather unassuming portal. It's as frozen over as the rest of them. "You said you were getting takeout? Did you pass through a door, or take a wrong turn somewhere, or...?"

"The magic already exists but computer networks have only been around since the seventies. The developers mostly used mundane types of calculations then. It's really only a matter of putting the two together in ways that won't screw up too badly." He shrugs. "A lot of magic isn't super practical and there have been a lot of charlatans." He could go on, but he is possibly boring the man already, he considers.

"So you've been a teacher. For a really long time. Huh." He catches the grimace when he mentions wars.

It's like walking into a freezer. He takes care not to slip on the Plaza. "I thought someone was following me so I took a different route, turned a corner, tripped on a crack, and when I looked up everything in front of me was, well, this. Is that really what a portal looks like?" He goes over to it, studying it as well.

Quite the opposite, Prometheus seems rather interested in the topic. "Your world parallels mine in curious ways, Peter. Although nobody practices magic any more. At least, not the kind that yields any noticeable results. Do you perform magic, then? Or are you on the tech side of things?"

"A really long time," he confirms, as they walk along. "But I would not trade my experiences for anything. I'd much rather live with humans and watch them grow than lounge about Mount Olympus, recounting my glory days."

What terrible luck, to trip into the Nexus at a time like this. "Portals come in a variety of shapes and sizes, but an archway is not uncommon. Portals tend to take the appearance of the world from which one arrives." Set into a brick facade of a boarded-up building, it would normally be easy to pass through, but the entire surface is iced over, smooth enough that Prometheus can see his own reflection. He frowns and knocks at the ice experimentally. It doesn't budge.

"Yeah?" He perks up at the interest. "What about the elves? Don't tell me they don't have portals to their own world. I'm strictly tech, though I work with some magic users."

"Mount Olympus sounds boring. But it seems weird, watching people grow up and then watching their children grow up and their children's children. I don't know."

Peter taps on the ice as well, harder and a little desperately.

"We don't have elves," Prometheus replies. "Closest to that are the nymphs and satyrs, but they don't have their own realm. Are you referring to a faerie realm or something along those lines?"

He has his suspicions that even a portal-making elf would fail in this storm. "You see how thick it is?" he says to Peter. "All that happened in the short time you stepped through. Even in subzero conditions, ice does not freeze this quickly or thickly."

As for what's weird or not, the Titan smiles ruefully. "I never stayed in any one place long enough for that to be an issue. How long could I get away with people noticing how I do not age, after all. Are there no immortals on your world? What about the elves, do they live as long as the stories say?"

"World, realm" he shrugs. "Realm is more accurate. Are you sure you don't have elves? They're easy to overlook. Because of the realms."

"Yeah, I see." He groans. "We need a blowtorch, but I think you're right. This has to be magic."

"Elves are pretty close but not immortal. Probably. They're pretty secretive. Any immortals keep to themselves. Or wander among us like you do." He'd be more inclined to sympathy and wondering what it's like to never stay in one place too long if he wasn't freezing even through the layers.

"If they exist where I'm from, they keep themselves hidden so well that even the gods do not know about them." Which isn't totally impossible, the Greek gods are not omnipotent, but Prometheus can't help but feel like he'd know about their existence. He's been around long enough.

A blowtorch isn't going to work, either, but Prometheus doesn't have the heart to continuously crush Peter's hopes. The poor goblin is obviously freezing. "Would you like to go back inside? Your portal hasn't disappeared, at least. When winter ends, you should be able to return home."

The Silence of the Storm

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wrapped?