nexus_crossings | 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!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thor would be surprised to hear he's been mistaken for a human.

There really are blankets! Good, he really needs these for himself and Loki.

He considers the goblin carefully.

"Do I need to repeat myself? I've arrived here quite suddenly, without even a single coin. Fine! Have it your way, if you can't even trust the word of a Prince of Asgard. What else do you consider to be of value?"

Prince, you say? Drulb's head tips ever so slightly to one side. He doesn't know what Asgard means, but he knows what Prince means.

"Your childhood. Your laugh. The colour of your eyes." He shrugs, but it's not quite as casual as normal. "Like I say: I'm flexible."

His eyes widen slightly. Then, he shakes his head, and says,

"You're a strange goblin. I will buy any necessities elsewhere."

"Won't find 'em elsewhere," Drulb tells him confidently, folding his arms and leaning once again against the crate. "But if you'd rather a Prince of Asgard died because he couldn't afford a blanket? Well, that's your business."

"I won't stay here to be mocked. I'd rather be a bit cold at nights, that's not going to kill a son of Odin!"

Probably not going to kill. Not fast, ať least. Probably. Maybe? On some off chance?

"Sell your wares to somebody else!"

The young man turns to go, then seems to think of something else; hesitates. And stays.

"One blanket, please. And state your price."

The bravado doesn't bother Drulb. Not with his security standing so close by, though the beast seems mostly unresponsive. He shrugs and waves a hand. "Suit yourself!"

And then the little prince comes back looking for a blanket after all. Drulb scratches his chin thoughtfully and then, finally, asks, "How about your poise? Your posture."

Thor almost groans. He really wants to.

"I've given up on a blanket for myself, I'm just being a responsible brother and getting one for Loki. You should say, 'sure, it' s only one blanket, pay me later.'"

Geez, some goblins!

"Alright, sure, my posture. I don't know how would that work, but sure, fine. Now give me a blanket, I'm getting angry."

Drulb offers him a hand. "Your posture for a blanket. Shake and it's a deal."

He's not some fancy Fae with unnecessarily long, eloquent verbal deals. A handshake is as solid a deal as one can get.

This is a very bad idea, some part of Thor's mind underneath the impatience suddenly warns.

Bad? Why? He is giving his word, true. Should he slouch for a day or something? Done and done, if it helps make sure that Loki doesn't get a frostbite at night. Loki never complains of cold, he's unusually fine with it, but he's still an Asgardian boy who can freeze like any other, isn't it? And Father isn't in Nexus, and neither is Al----

That's right. He, won't ever be.

So. Thor has to make sure nothing happens to Loki in Nexus.

Besides. The shopkeeper is only a goblin.

Thor shakes Grulb's hand firmly. "Fine! You have my word. And you're not so bad, for a goblin."

As soon as Thor takes Drulb's long fingered grasp, the transaction is made. The god won't walk with the same straight back or strong posture as he was raised to keep. Good luck to him, Drulb thinks, when he tries to fight.

The goblin takes a thick wool blanket and puts it in Thors hands with a final pat. "Well you know where to come to if you need something else."

That -- hits him hard. He really should've expected, so except for a groan and a glare, he stops himself from saying more. After all, a deal's a deal.

Thor nods curtly and goes away as fast as he can, hoping nobody familiar sees him anytime soon.

The Silence of the Storm

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Thor: barely know the meaning of the word 'careful' at this age and I wonder how that will bite him.

no subject

Yeah Thor is still not cautious enough

no subject

no subject