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!))

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"I...forgot about that part, I guess."

It didn't even cross Steve's mind at the time. He's so used to it being the norm for him after so many years. It feels like sometimes there's only two sets of normal in the world to him. Being so weak that he hurts constantly like he feels now, or being Captain America.

"You're right." It's never just one man who wins a war, even if he makes a hell of a difference. People are remarkably strong when they work together. Steve wishes he didn't sound so spent to say it. "But I am pretty helpless...right now. Guess it's your turn to carry me."

He doesn't have to like it. All Steve needs to do is survive.

Cricket's smile widens, warm and reassuring. "Well, sir, it's the least I can do to try, after what you did to help me."

"But if we're lucky, we won't have much longer to hurt like this." He sobers a little. "And we can rest and get ourselves back to normal, and go back to doing the things we'd rather be doin'."

"You want me to top up your tea? I ain't goin' back out for a while, either way. Not unless pipes freeze or something happens so it's all hands on deck." He gets up slowly, braces creaking, and it seems like he needs a second to get his balance, but he offers to take Steve's cup. "Where'd you come from, if you don't mind my askin'? I know it's you on the message that plays in the Plaza when there's electricity and whatnot...but that's not really you, you. Not bein' yourself."

"I...promise I mean that metaphorically. Don't worry."

It hurts to laugh, but Steve wheezes one out at his own joke along with a slightly crooked smile. It's stunted from pain but no less sincere. Of course, if he looked like how he should, even Cricket probably could actually pick him up. It's a thought that makes this whole thing a bit funnier to Steve though he doesn't have the energy to try and explain right now.

"Sure, if there's any left." He'd like it more to warm his hands than to drink at least for the moment. It won't go to waste though. Sarah Rogers didn't raise her son to be that way even if the situation wasn't so dire for them all.

"You'll...laugh, probably." The tea warms his hands and drives back the memories of being frozen alive just a little bit. Makes it easier for him to breathe. "Brooklyn. It was 1941 when I first stumbled into th'Nexus. In my time, that is. The Nexus of course don't have to follow those rules."

Cricket grins at him. "My legs ain't that great for it, but my arms're stronger than they look. I might be able to get you across the room if I had to."

Not right now he wouldn't, not really, but maybe if he were fed up properly. He has no way of knowing that Steve used to be more portable, but clearly there's something funny about this train of thought, and they both need the laugh. He crosses the room slowly with the cups and refills them with a pensive hum and a sigh. When he brings them back, there are a few limp slivers of needles floating in the top. The taste won't be as strong this time, but a bit sweeter.

"Not sure what's funny about Brooklyn, but then I ain't been there." He sits again, watching Steve with an open, attentive expression. "1941, really? You were less'n a decade ahead of me, then. It was 1932 when I died and landed here."

"--I mean, I'm guessing you didn't die, but. You know what I mean. When were you born? I was born in 1912. End of June."

"I got a lot of chuckles during the war when it came out I was a city boy. I got real used to it, but this sort of almost camping never did come easy for me."

After a long time having to get used to it Steve can manage much more readily than he used to be able to but it still strikes him as a little bit funny, of only for nostalgic reasons. Though...Cricket's next question catches Steve a bit offguard. He's not used to not being the oldest human in the room these days.

"1918, actually. You'd be quite a bit older than me if we were from the same place."

"Well...I reckon I understand that, but it ain't entirely fair. We all gotta come from somewhere, and if we all came from the same spot, it'd be way too damn crowded. Forrest always says cities ain't healthy for anyone, but I never been anywhere bigger than Rocky Mount so I wouldn't know."

Also, let's be honest, Forrest is biased. As are most of the people in Franklin County. God only knows what they'd make of Steve if he wandered in there.

He laughs softly and grins at the revelation. "Only a few years. Old enough to be your big brother, maybe."

Which is pretty funny considering their relative physical sizes right now.

The Silence of the Storm

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