The Silence of the Storm

[shardofwinter]

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!))

Comments

[liverfree]

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."

[joblin]

"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.

[liverfree]

"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...?"

[joblin]

"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.

[liverfree]

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.

[joblin]

"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.

[liverfree]

"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?"

[joblin]

"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.

[liverfree]

"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."

[joblin]

"Huh. You know it's the same thing with gods in my world."

"No." He sags. "I'd like to go back home. I can't just take a winter's worth of sick days unannounced."

[liverfree]

"That they keep themselves hidden, leaving you to wonder if they exist at all?" He sniffs, his expression behind his ski mask dead sober. "Then I would say your world is fortunate to have gods who mind their own business."

He watches Peter's shoulders droop and feels very sorry for the goblin. "It's quite possible that time has stopped in your world, compared to here, or is moving so slowly that you won't have missed much when you return. That happens fairly frequently around here."

Of course, the opposite is always possible, but Prometheus won't bring that up. Some optimism is worth sharing, if it will keep Peter from losing hope entirely.

"I'll patrol the line of torches while we're here, but I'll keep you in my sights. Send me a signal when you're ready to return, I'll escort you back to the café."

[joblin]

"Well obviously the gods have showed up a few times in history. Probably. Does that count as well behaved? I've heard that goblins pray against some of their gods, keeping them from entering the world."

Offensive? Maybe. "Of course those aren't the Greek pantheon."

"Okay. I'll wave something. What I wouldn't give for a good hardware store and magic shop."

[liverfree]

It's not at all offensive to Prometheus. He even smiles a little at the thought of it. "You come from a wise race of people, Peter. And you're right, they are not the same as my pantheon. It is unfair of me to judge them based on the pettiness of my cousins. I do think that it's better for gods to not interfere so much in the affairs of mortals, based on my personal experience."

He gives Peter a sympathetic look. Anyone stuck in the Nexus will need to do their best until the storm breaks. Prometheus will make sure he doesn't get lost in the shuffle. He tucks up his collar, then gives Peter a mini-salute before heading off to the line of torches, keeping an eye out for trouble until Peter is ready to return to the café.

wrapped?

[joblin]

"Um." Peter's eyes cut to the right briefly and he looks doubtful.

"You don't think much of your cousins then. !But I can see how interference would be bad."

"Thanks." He returns the salute with a nod and cheerful wave of the hand.