nexus_crossings | saffron wind

saffron wind

Not everyone walks calmly into the streets of the Nexus. Not everyone is so distracted as to not see when the stones shift and the shops and buildings aren’t quite the same. She’s staring down into a sketchbook in her hands and muttering to herself for a fair distance before it even occurs to her to look up. Light brown eyes peer out from a mess of dark curls pinned up around her shoulders. She purses her lips in some amount of confusion and looks to her left, her right, and finally turns about in a small circle.

This stocky stranger traces her gaze over the various buildings as she slowly closes the sketchbook and returns it to a satchel strung across her shoulder by a long strap. After a moment of taking in her surroundings, she nods quietly and sighs. She shifts two things strapped across her back and shoulders: a satchel bag and a large pole with one end wrapped up in cloth. In less than a minute, she has the bag slung around her shoulders and over her back in the style of a backpack. The pole finds it’s way into her hands, the covered end pointing upward as she turns in a slow circle.

“This is…different.” Her voice is soft and deep, but quickly taking on a worried tone. The pole rests in the crook of one arm as she gathers up her skirt to tie off around her waist. Her leather sandals gently hug her all the way up to her knees. “All right, I’ll bite. Who did I offend this time?”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No one yet," Loki is late to the party, but can't resist the opportunity to be the peanut gallery. "But I'm sure we can arrange otherwise! Who would you like to offend?"

He's a bit of a visual contrast to this woman, tall and pale except for the raven hair, and dressed in dark clothing. There's a little bundle of bright autumn leaves pinned to his shoulder, though, a nod to the turning season. It pays to give homage to that sort of thing around here.

"Oh, my great-grandfather can kiss my whole ass for all I-" She slaps a hand over her mouth before she can finish that sentence. Her cheeks start to go a little red and she stares at the man before her. He's beautiful, in a modern and gothic kind of way. Her hand slips away from her mouth just slightly.

"You look like you could have been one of my great-uncles in another life. I presume it's autumn here as well?"

Loki laughs quietly, the blush just further entertaining him. "Right, so, fraught family relationships and a tendency to offend people...there's two things we have in common, already."

"But now I'm not sure how to take that comment about looking like one of your great uncles. In this place, honestly, it's possible you're related to an alternate of myself from a parallel world, but let's not begin with that assumption. It just confuses things."

"Yes," he smooths his tunic carefully around the leaves pinned to it. "Just the beginning of the Season. It's wise to keep an eye to that sort of thing here. The Spirit of Autumn has been known to make visitation."

"This is the Nexus, by the way, in case you hadn't seen the welcome signs yet. A sort of crossroads between worlds."

It's an embarrassing thing to slip about grievances towards specific relatives, no matter who was there to agree entirely with your perspective on the matter. She rubs at one of her ears, hoping she doesn't look too red in the face.

"I doubt it. I'd recognize King Spots, as much as you look like him. He's had that married man look for years." Her voice softens as she speaks of Hades, and she manages a little smile.

"Nexus is a strange place to wander into. I've met a comic book hero and a god from Asgard already and I half expect to see more of the same." She stands a bit straighter and nods her head to the raven man. "I am Lysandra Kastaros. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Loki isn't equipped to recognize 'King Spots' as a particular god, but his eyebrows go up anyway. "That's an interesting commentary. I'm not married, though certainly some are making active attempts to get me there...but I do have four children. I suppose that conveys a similarly settled look."

He gives a gracious bow in return, and then glances about as if half hoping to see who she's referring to having met. "Oh? Was it Thor, by any chance? Good for him if he's out and about. I should message him and see if he wants to see me."

"I'm his brother, Loki," he explains, glancing back to her. "Though I know not all worlds have written us down as such. I'm adopted."

Her smile remains, but there's a slight blank look as she processes the information just fed to her. Thor had greeted her. She set herself up. You can't just meet one god and not find another. Her gaze focuses back to Loki and she nods again.

"Well, hail to Loki, prince of Asgard, adopted or otherwise. As I said to your brother: the warmest greetings from Olympus to Asgard." She pulls at her skirt and it tumbles down towards her feet. "It's always heartwarming to see a devoted parent among the divine. By all account, your children are much loved and doted upon."

That is especially true in the Nexus. It's just one divine thing after another.

"Prince of Asgard, the Rightful King of Jotunheim, god of lies and mischief and owner of many terrible life choices. At your service."

He seems mildly surprised that she adjusts her skirt and gives her a gentle wave of his hand. "Really, formality isn't necessary. I have legs, too, after all."

"Olympus, though? That's interesting. You're not personally at odds with Prometheus, I hope? He's been a good friend to both Thor and myself."

"If I didn't begin with formalities, I would spontaneously combust. When one knows Prometheus, they know how easy it is to offend my family members. That man deserved nothing of what my family did to him. It should be me offering my service to you, dear prince."

She holds on to the spear a bit tighter and looks up at the tip.

"I was actually on the way to deliver a commission for Athena. She's got a thing for spears, and father trusts me to deliver things for him more than Hermes sometimes. It looks better when the work of a blacksmith is delivered by another blacksmith."

Well...let it never be said Loki doesn't enjoy the occasional reference to his status. He's got an ego and it's always hungry. "Just don't go telling Thor I terrorized you or something; I'm trying to be on moderately decent behavior as long as I have the children at home."

He does fix her with a sharp gaze for just a moment, more analytical than threatening, but he seems mollified by her statement about Prometheus. "...blacksmith. Then you're the child of Hephaestus? That's...good."

"If any conflict were to arise regarding Prometheus, I would side with him without question, and protect him if necessary."

You know, just to establish that information. Giants gotta stick together.

"But I know he and Hephaestus are on speaking terms, at least, so I trust in your sincerity. Do you prefer that I call you Lady Kastaros, or are we on a first name basis?"

"I'm part of the Olympian family. Between Zeus being himself and the parties of Dionysus, I doubt you can think of anything to frighten me."

Not a boast so much as a soul resigned to their lot. At least with Dionysus, you will be too drunk to care a few drinks in. Her gaze shifts down, but not the whole of her head, and she smirks.

"As would I, if I'm perfectly honest. I may be of flesh and bone, but that will not stop me when push comes to shove. The family tradition is always to take down the elders when they go too far."

At that declaration, her whole body relaxes as she settles into a much more comfortable standing pose, using the spear to prop herself up just slightly. "Everyone calls me Lysandra, but I do have a special nickname that is my father's alone to use with me. When you see me at work, you will see I am far more lady-like covered in soot and grime."

"Well that sounds like a challenge, but I'll forgo it for now." He smirks, but ultimately he probably does not want to go head to head with Dionysus for alarming situations.

"It sounds like you and I may get along well, then. Prometheus has a pottery shop in the Plaza. I'm sure if he wants to be found, you'll be able to find and befriend him, though he's sometimes busy. He did my people a good turn not long ago."

"Lysandra it is, then. I need no formal titles in the Nexus; simply Loki suits me fine. If anyone asks 'which Loki'--because there are a number of us here--I usually get referred to as 'Dad Loki'."

"Save your challenges for your brother. Your parenting skills are spoken of in high regard, but so is your gift for complete mischief." She can't help but grin at the thought, though.

"He's here?!" Lysandra practically bounces up in a burst of excitement. "And pottery! Oh, he's a man of tradition, he is. I'll have to bring him some kind of gift and see if he can't throw a bit of clay for a vase."

Her mind is buzzing with thoughts on the physics of pottery, but she tries to focus herself back to Loki. "Dad Loki. Aren't you all parents? I would think 'Ink' might be a more apt descriptor of how you are currently presenting to yourself."

"Oh, but he knows me too well, he's no fun any more." Loki laughs softly. That last bit isn't true. Thor knowing him better actually makes him more fun, but Loki being the little brother he is, he's hesitant to admit that out loud.

At this point, Loki is satisfied that this particular Olympian means Prometheus no harm, and he smiles at her excitement. "Tradition and skill. I have quite a bit of his work in my home."

He shakes his head then. "Of the Lokis in the Nexus, I am the only one currently with children at home. One is childless thus far, I believe, and the other is actually older than I am, though he doesn't look it, and his history with family is complicated."

"I hope it's not a disappointment to you to hear that I have neither serpents, nor wolves, nor eight-legged horses amongst my offspring. The stories aren't all literally true, in my case. But I have four children, adopted from Asgard after a disaster befell their parents."

'Ink' seems to amuse him, and he looks down at his own black ensemble. "...I suppose I'm sporting a Gothic look today; that's fair. I'll see if I can't wear green next time I see you."

"I have never not heard of a tale involving the two of you working together where Loki isn't having the best time." She's not going to call Loki a liar to his face, but she knows that siblings of their caliber aren't about to become bereft of entertainment among themselves.

"Wine might be the gift of choice until I can hand-make something in return for him. I know I'm a blacksmith by trade, but I was raised in the old ways of Greece. I can weave, sew, and make a damn fine tapestry with enough time."

Rather than disappointment, Lysandra finds herself feeling incredibly curious. She's known that the stories and the deity themselves are often very different things, but this borders into other worlds, or even universes. Not a surprise, but utterly fascinating.

"I want to speak to every last one of the men in this place who call themselves Loki. To have so many iterations of oneself in one place is to have entire lifetimes to commit to poetry. The Muses themselves would weep with joy at such a chance." She giggles a little at when he looks down. "You could wear the whole rainbow if it suits you. I'll not begrudge anyone to wear a color they are not feeling fond of."

"A blacksmith that can also work with fiber...that's a wide skill-set. I ought to learn to do something with my hands, I suppose. I can make all sorts of things, from clothing to weaponry, but I use magic every time."

He considers a moment, then adds: "Although, I have gotten decent with baking cookies and with making popsicle stick constructions. That's a start."

He can also make macaroni and cheese from a box, with one hand holding a crying child to his chest to soothe them, while singing songs cribbed from the Muppets, all of which is its own kind of skill.

"Best of luck." He laughs a little at her enthusiasm. "Try the Viper's Pit. One of my alternates owns the place. You may find them as a man or a woman, depending on their mood, but welcoming either way."

"I wear white around Yule," he says with a shrug. "But green and black and gold tend to be my signature colors. My brother favors red and silver."

"Quite! I've made bows, arrows, and quivers. There isn't anything I can't create if I have enough time to observe it and take it apart. Even food, as you've learned, is a matter of taking the right parts and putting them together in the right way."

Lysandra would delight to know such an experience has been Loki's to live through. She will always have a soft and tender spot in her heart for the true heroism and strength needed to be a parent.

"Viper's Pit. Dear me, that's a hell of a name. That kind of snake is well known for their wickedly bad tempers."

She smiles at hearing his traditions with clothes. "I suppose I'm rone to the color blue. Nothing to do with the flag of Greece at present. It's a very lovely color in specific shades and it makes me feel a touch more regal."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

saffron wind

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject