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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He flails internally for a moment, because having a lady more or less haul him up to help him goes against the grain on multiple levels. His face probably shows the conflict, but he's learning, in the Nexus, and it only takes him a few seconds to swallow his pride and propriety.

They make people tough in the Nexus, men and women both, rich and poor alike.

He smiles at her quip. "Looked pretty cathartic, yeah. That's the word, ain't it? No one does magic like that in the world I come from. It still blows me away to see things like that, every time."

"Kind of a privilege." His smile widens and softens, either with sentiment or exhaustion. It's hard to tell. "Maybe that's what some of us trade for, when we decide to live here. Ask me in a couple months and I'll let you know if it's worth it."

He does his best to carry as much of his own weight as he can, but there's no doubt he's not getting anywhere without the support. Hopefully they won't both fall over; that would be awkward.

Isidor nods and smiles as he speaks. Cricket is so inoffensive it's hard not to revert to being the older sister encouraging his use of a new word. "Cathartic is definitely the right word."

The rest, however... is less upbeat. She sobers, though her expression is softer than it usually is. She's tired, and Cricket is so like Viatorus. Except for the stubbornly blind optimism, it seems.

"There's a trade off to everything. In my world magic is as horrible as it is beautiful." She glances around, but doing so almost makes her lose her balance. In an effort to distract from her stumble, she keeps talking. "The Nexus is linked to all kinds of worlds. Which means it's open to the very best and very worst of all of them. That's the trade off in coming here. At home you only have to deal with the devil you know."

He's a little loopy right now. He might be more sensitive to the teacher-tone under normal circumstances, with his prickly sense of pride. At the moment, though, he's just happy to hear he used the right vocabulary.

"There's always a price y'gotta pay, in stories," he says, and he makes a tiny startled sound when he senses her stumble, but when she recovers he just huffs a sigh of relief and refrains from comment, listening to her instead.

"Even if you don't know you're payin' it. Like an entrance fee to walk into a new world. Or a lot of new worlds. The devil I knew did me pretty harsh; I couldn't go back if I wanted, 'cause I died, but at this point I don't think I want to go back, anyway."

This time she stumbles to a halt to blink at him in surprise. "You died?"

Why does everyone she know seem to have died at some point? Was she dedicated to Osiris instead of Isis?

"I... I didn't know that," she says as she realises her rudeness and continues their march. They're slow, but determined, and the walk is shorter with some conversation. Which is perhaps why the medical building comes in sight so soon. "We're lucky we have so many good people to help us through it. Hopefully this will be the last of it for a while. We'll survive this, and we'll get an equally long calm."

Oh. He blinks back at her, misinterpreting her surprise. "I mean...not today! Not here in the Nexus, I ain't. But it's how I ended up here, as far as I can tell. Got killed back home and woke up here."

"I know I ain't alone. I'd think this was some kind of afterlife, except I know there's live people that come and go."

He looks up at her with a wry smile. "Don't go makin' promises like that, now. The Nexus does what the Nexus wants. We're lucky, but I reckon if we count on too long a calm we'll just end up unprepared for the next big thing."

She doesn't worry about correcting his assurances. That would be too much effort for something too small to be a concern. Nor does she want him to dwell on it. Times are stressful enough without a person thinking about their death. The important part is that he knows he's not alone. Despite it all, he's not brought low by it.

"I'll be even more ready next time. Whatever comes next will have to deal with me." The grin she gives him says her words are all in good fun, but there's a fire in her heart. This has come too close to being too dangerous.

Even among those she's volunteered to help, those she's sacrificed so much for, people spit bile and bitterness at her. Even emulating her brother's kindness opens them both up to danger. Next time... Next time she might have to forego the luxury of trying to appease the masses. She might find it easier now, knowing that even when she tries her best to be kind, nobody else sees it as kindness.

She shivers when they step inside the medical building. Without waiting for direction, she eases Cricket into a chair. She has to, or else she'll drop him. As soon as she has, however, she calls over one of the volunteer nurses and insists he should get warm blankets and be checked over straight away. The nurse nods and runs off to get a wheelchair.

Isidor flexes her elbow and nods to Cricket. "You'll be fine now. Once the rations are adjusted we'll all get a reasonable meal."

"Y'ain't gotta handle everything that comes at us, you know," he tells her with a wry little smile. "I know for a lotta people it feels that way. Just 'cause maybe you can take somethin' big on, it don't mean you have to."

"I'm just tired," he protests when she tells the nurse to check him right away. Blankets aren't a bad idea, though. And presumably, even under direct orders, the nurses know how to triage. If someone comes in bleeding out, they'll handle that first.

"Thank you," he tells Isidor with a sober nod, sinking into the chair with a sigh. "I'll be a'ight. Don't you forget to rest, either. Soon as you can."

The Silence of the Storm

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