A Strange Afterlife

[ginger_firebird]

 It had to be impossible. He could feel his skin. A pulse beat under his neck. He stood in front of a store window and regarded his reflection in the glass. Same black leather outfit. Same brown trench-coat. The fabric weight down on him and he rubbed his arms as he tried to figure out what was going on. A wandering spirit had doors to enter and exit when it came to the world of the living, but he'd never achieved something like this. It was alien and wrong and he had no idea where anyone was.

Mantis sighed, marveling quietly at the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing. It didn't matter. He'd keep moving and hope for the best. If this was some punishment for a misstep, he knew exactly who to take it up with.

"Sorrow!" Even his voice carried an echo. Mantis pointed himself into a new direction and began to walk. "What did I do this time, old man?"

Comments

[harness_the_harness]

"Oh, hallo! Excuse me, sir," a voice calls out. It comes from an older man with severe-looking features dressed in clean, professional attire. He's holding a glowing data tablet in one hand and waving with the other. Even with his stern appearance, his tone is friendly: "A moment of your time, please?"

[chiaro_oscuro]

"New here, I take it? Suppose I should welcome you here. You're in the Nexus. A...crossroads between the dimensions, let's say."

A young man with black clothes and dark hair watches the stranger, wary but polite. He hasn't gotten a good sense of this newcomer and Ben Solo, while he doesn't lash out the way he used to, is suspicious by default.

"You can call me Ben. If you're looking for information, I'd go see Captain Rogers' PSA, or find one of the pamphlets. This isn't a bad place to end up, but it takes some getting used to. I'm still adjusting and I've been here since winter." Ben hasn't counted the months, but he's been here at least since before the winter's ice melted. "Looking for someone?"

[tr1ckortreat]

The sight of the strange man wearing the mask and trench-coat caught Loki's attention almost immediately. He seemed lost and confused which could mean he was a new arrival to the Nexus. It almost certainly went hand in hand with most who were wrenched from their worlds seemingly involved in events from wherever point in their timeline.

"Sorrow? Are you referring to your feelings or a person, since it is hard to know which is the latter."

The god approached the strange masked man and wondered why he wore such attire. Could he not breathe without his device? Loki did find it rather unsettling to not be able to see a man's eyes since most viewed them as windows into their souls. They were harder to read and manipulate that way. The man would notice that Loki is wearing his Asgardian garb which was what he had been wearing since being snatched from his own world.

[neverseenhimbefore]

What a strange man. Lotor wonders what's wrong with him.

"I don't suppose your old man is here."

[hellsadvisor]

Belial has become comfortable in the Nexus and most knew to leave the angel to his business. He was never unfriendly to others but Belial had a head for doing, and keeping track of his siblings. Even with the anti-violence field they could cause mischief. That had him walking through the plaza; a tall pale skinned, dark haired man with black wings and all black clothing. He has a black, hawk-like bird perched on his shoulder that is actively looking around, but the angel, white eyed and blind, doesn't blink or cast a gaze away from straight ahead.

The question comes and is close enough that the hawk's eyes turn immediately on Mantis, but it is the man who speaks. "Which 'old man' is judging you?"

[eumenis]

Furiosa is seated on a bench next to a garden store, quietly cataloging something in a ledger while a short distance away a handful of War Boys load a cart with supplies. The Nexus is ideal for trade. So many worlds, and nearly all of them unimaginably wealthy compared to her own. She's been wary of becoming dependent on trade with this place lest they lose their gate to and from it, but you don't just turn down a drink of water because you'll only get thirsty later. They're stockpiling now, slowly but surely, setting up systems that will alter not just their Citadel but the entire region around them.

It's ambitious.

Regardless of her absorption in her work, she's attentive to passers-by, and when the stranger calls out, she glances up slightly, eyebrows raised. And then does a double-take. He's obviously not talking to her or hers, but there is something familiar in that style of clothing, and as much of the shape of the head beneath it as she can see. Bald and scarred is a War Boy look if ever there was one. What Mantis wears seems to be in newer condition than most of what her boys have, though.

Probably not from the Wasteland then, or even a parallel, but her gaze lingers on him curiously. "...lost?" she asks as he passes close by. Her voice is low and even, but there's quiet authority in her bearing, even if there is no inherent magical or psionic power to her.

[silverseamariner]

"Looking for someone?"

There's a voice, cool and deep, as a large birdlike creature turns to face Mantis. skekSa the Mariner is roughly nine feet in height, added to by the feathered tricorn hat she wears. She has a bright red longcoat and a set of throwing-knives, along with a long, sharp cutlass that clearly isn't built for human use. She observes the curious dress with interest. Not any clothing style she's used to among humans, or Skeksis for that matter.

"I assume this Sorrow is a person back from the universe you're from. You're a newcomer to this place, then. Allow Captain skekSa to offer you welcome. It's a pleasure." She gives the man a nod and offers a clawed hand in greeting.

[debonairsharpshooter]

Misfire is wandering about aimlessly in his holoav, flipping idly through a book titles 'Humans for Dummies'. And that sure was a rhetorical sounding question! But if there's one thing Misfire loves it's answering rhetorical questions. Well okay he loves a lot more then JUST that but hey, you gotta take your amusements where you can.

"Sorrow? Nah that's not me, mate. That guy's yellow and orange and turns into a bull," he pauses, face scrunched up in thought for a moment, "Actually, wait no. That's Tantrum. Not him either though."