nexus_crossings | Spidey's Charity Winter Fair!

Current Location: The Plaza

Spidey's Charity Winter Fair!

Tis the season for giving and gifting, for doing right by your neighbors and strangers alike.

The Nexus is no stranger to parties and gatherings by now. Fliers have been put up--banners are ~~webbed~~ hung up around a sectioned off block of the Plaza inviting all and sundry to come partake in a charity winter fair. Its host zips between tables to help carry anything heavy or to make sure those who need it have access to power. Spider-Man might be a recognizable Hero back home, but here he's dwarfed in size and abilities alike by the powerhouse volunteers who are helping make his idea take shape in reality. Gods, otherworldly individuals of races Spider-Man can't even guess at--but people too.

So many more than Peter could have expected.

Soon one side of the street is awash in seasonal aromas as tables get assembled laden with pies, jams, and drinks ready to be served up to interested guests. Spidey makes sure to drop off a little bag of hand made sweets to one of the volunteers who brought her kids along to make sure they don't get fussy or left out of all the fun. His head spins when he thinks of how much grander this is than just the one or two tables he and Matt discussed when they were talking out plans. It's really happening.

He's quick to jump over to the other side of the street and grab up a snow shovel to clear away space for the spots being set up for entertainment. Every shovel full of snow he clears for a puppet theater can get dumped into a pile beneath a rigged up seat for a dunking booth of sorts. Already curious onlookers point and laugh, their voices carrying in the crisp air eager for the games about to be played.

In the center of the sectioned off block sits their headquarters for the event where tickets can be sold, raffles held, and a table set up for straight donations just next to it. The man behind it is far more calm than the young costumed man who leans up against the table to catch his breath once everything seems to be coming together.

Spidey's hopeful when he looks over his shoulder to ask, "How many folks d'you think are gonna come?"

---

((OOC: See the OOC Post here if you have any questions about what this event is! We have several coordinators who will be posting their own top level comments for attractions here with subject lines advertising them but all will be linked to beneath this spot for ease of access as they go up! Feel free to mingle, this is a party post so back tagging and threadhopping are allowed. Enjoy!))

Things to Do!
Link For Spider-Man's Spider Treats
Link for Matt's Donation Table
Link for the Very Merry Puppet Theater
Link for the Family Sweet Station
Link for the Winter Dunking Extravaganza
Link for the Royal Jelly Menagerie
Link for the Heavenly Drinks Stand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Minoru snickered at both Isamu’s assertion and Aarne’s response.

“If you mean ‘missed me’ in that you noticed and regretted my absence, then I appreciate the sentiment and we will need to spend time together in the future. I would love to know what you thought of ‘Debunking Myths and Misconceptions: An Assessment of Physical Activity and Energy Expenditure in Rock Musicians.” He replied politely, and with sincerity.

It had been a while since he’d caught up with Aarne, and it was their little bet that brought that project to life. Hopefully the safe-for-his-world copies he left Ziggy had been shared amongst the rest of the participants by this point.

“If, however, you mean ‘missed me’ in that your glitter prank did not involve me, I assure you, Minoru carried more than enough home with him to make me feel like I was there. I am still finding glitter in the apartment. And for that reason, prepare yourself to eat snow.”

Isamu maneuvered the snowball in his hand, mathematically calculating his throw.

"We always notice when you're missing." Aarne might be giggling but he's also serious about that. The band members were family and others got sucked into it easily. "We have more ideas for demanding jobs that people think are easy."

That was also true but the rest. Aarne tried not to crack a smile, brows lifting from he contained laughter. He hadn't meant this when he said missed but he certainly would have dumped glitter in Isamu if he was there. "Mastermind makes it sound like it was my idea."

It hadn't been his idea but he had been through one to find where to get the insane amount of environmentally safe glitter. Co-conspirator definitely.

“Oh… thank you.” Isamu blushed slightly, a bit surprised by the friendly admission. Minoru chuckled to himself.

He didn’t have a specific interest in researching other jobs, per se, but he did have some other ideas floating around in the back of his mind that Aarne might be able to help with. That wouldn’t save him from snowballs, though.

Isamu refocused his attention.

“Even if you were not the instigator, I have no doubt that you were a key accelerator, and for that…”

No more distractions. He took aim, and hit the target dead center with his first snowball.

Aarne smiled at that blush because it was sweet.

However, that threat came right back with a playfully aggressive pointed finger wag.

"You throw that snowball and I'll get you!" But then he was crying out from being dropped in the snow. He didn't much care though and came up laughing. Aarne loved the snow. This was better than being dunked in water for sure.

“To quote Star Trek’s rewording of a line lifted from the ninetieth century French novel, Memoirs of Matilda, ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold.” He stated matter-of-factly, amused that neither the original author, nor James T. Kirk, likely expected it to be meant so literally.

Minoru was now beside himself with laughter.

“Bet you didn’t see that coming!” He chuckled.

Not many people knew Isamu had a talent for this kind of thing. Snowballs were light enough that he could compensate for their weight without much of a struggle. Give him a slingshot, water gun, etc., though, and he was a little sniper. If he wanted to hit you, you got hit.

Aarne came up out of the snow with a snowball ready. No one said he couldn't retaliate and this was the game he grew up with and Isamu better be good at dodging.

"I'm a cold, hard...." Aarne stuck his tongue out at the twins. If Isamu wanted to play games Aarne would always be up for it. Undeterred he put the seat back up and hopped into it easily with his long legs. "Rik taught me the quiet boys are vicious when you make them angry."

He wasn’t as good at dodging as Minoru, that was for sure. Nor did he expect anything being thrown back at him. The most he could do in time was turn so he got pelted in the back.

“Cold, undoubtedly. Hard, I will neither confirm nor deny.” He smirked. “However, Rik is only partially accurate. Dare I suggest true viciousness is controlled and highly rational, not induced by compromising the neurons in the hypothalamus with a stress response.”

Did he hate glitter? Yes. Definitely. But was he really all that angry with Aarne? No. This was revenge, technically, but the fun kind.

He lined up his next shot, and hit the target. It wasn’t a perfect bullseye, but it was close enough that it didn’t matter.

Aarne starts laughing so hard he covers his face. "OH! You don't know!"

Aarne finally got his laughter under control. "80% of all pranks start with Rik... or the Danes." Aarne started laughing again. "If Vars starts, run. He'll get you. You'll never see it coming."

This time when he went down he giggled. Aarne loved the snow so this was the best.

Minoru was laughing almost as hard as Aarne was now. There were so many hilarious pranks - big, bold, elaborate productions - that the whole lot of them came up with.

“I know that emotions reprioritize neural and physiological resources toward action states that affect cognitive processes - and that studies have demonstrated the benefit of anger on performance increases mainly for those with the least amount of skill. So, be mindful that compliment does not inadvertently become an insult.” He noted. “Also, Rik is not here. So you will have to do.”

“But if he were?” Minoru snickered.

“Naturally, I would need to up my ante. Perhaps recruit Aarne to the cause, inquire if he has any tubes of glitter in his possession that could be mixed with fresh snow to create, dare I say it, the perfect weapon. And catch him unsuspecting, of course.”

“Harley said no intentional throwing snowballs at the person, remember?”

Isamu raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about doing this at the dunking booth?”

Aarne stared at Isamu. "You may need to keep your snowball if you walk around here saying anger is a sign of the least skilled. The punks might bust your mouth or that crazy ginger."

Aarne might be snickering but he's serious. He's not sure about Viktor or the ginger but he knew Vars and he didn't take insults, perceived or otherwise, very well.

"Rik is here but you're outnumbered by Danes." Aarne climbed out of the dunking booth to join the twins. He was shaking the snow out of his clothes and sneakily collecting snow in one hand. If Isamu is distracted, he might end up with snow down the back of his coat. Aarne would never turn on his one of his favorite partners in crime.

“Anger itself is a universal emotion, regardless of skill level. I merely said that those with lower skill levels statistically benefit the most from the motivational influence of anger…”

His rebuttal was cut off by a squeal, as snow was dropped down the back of his jacket.

Minoru bent over in a solid guffaw.

“A matter of… diminishing returns…” he squeaked. “and that was uncomfortably cold!”

"I don't know." Aarne shrugged. "That's not what I've seen in people."

Maybe it was scientifically accurate but he doubted there were many people like them in any of those studies. Aarne was soon giggling as well when he heard that squeak.

"That was funny." Aarne was getting cheeky and mischievous. Why not? It would be hard for someone shorter to get snow down the back of his jacket.

Minoru was still laughing, shaking his head as he nodded, “That was great.”

After a few moments of shivering and glaring, Isamu let himself laugh too. It was also time for them to let someone else have a turn at Harley’s booth.

“Speaking of scientific observations, I left copies of my paper with Ziggy. Did you have the opportunity to read it?”

Of course, he’d done his best in the charts and graphs to work with averages, hiding the fact that there was one less member in those measurements than he actually observed. But the qualitative results overall remained unchanged - namely that Aarne won that bet fair and square. The musicians matched athletes in physical fitness across nearly all measured categories.

Aarne nodded. "Rik and I are translating it to Norwegian but neither of us know Norwegian well enough." They were trying to translate it for Vars who was interested but struggling with the technical language. Both of his younger bandmates had thought they knew Norwegian but found themselves at a loss on some of the words.

"I wasn't surprised." That was personal experience with how it felt coming off stage. It felt like running a marathon some nights, most nights. "What did you get out of it?"

He's kind of curious if there was a deeper take away for the twin than simply losing the bet.

“Oh, several things, actually. A broader, more inclusive definition of athleticism. A true test of the durability of IRIS technology in the field - the fact that not a single unit was seriously damaged was surprising, considering the physical contact they endured…”

Minoru rose an eyebrow, giving his brother a knowing glance. It did not go unnoticed.

Isamu sighed softly. “But I suppose the most significant discovery I took away from the experiment was the number of baseline assumptions - about others, about the broader worldview… even about myself and my own desires - that proved to be flawed in some way.”

Much to Isamu’s surprise, Minoru didn’t reinforce his answer. He knew his brother was grappling with something there that went beyond just being wrong about something.

Of course, Isamu was still insanely curious about Anthean empathy and why he couldn’t perceive it. But he hadn’t dared broach the topic with Ziggy or anyone else in the family. Not after what had happened between them. He was terrified of saying, doing, or even feeling the wrong thing in Ziggy’s presence. Every thought felt like a test he was predestined to fail, and the threat of making even a single mistake was paralyzing.

Instead, in addition to his current collaborations, he poured himself into sating that curiosity on his own - reading about telepathy in general, as well as other altered states of human consciousness, magical and religious experiences he had previously written off as fantasy. And that had been giving him all sorts of ideas for tangentially relevant research.

“Which… actually… leads me into something I wish to ask you…”

"We were careful with them." Aarne knew that he and Joe were specifically because Aarne wanted the information from them.

"We learned too." Aarne agreed. "It's always good to learn about yourself."

Aarne was openly curious about this coming questions. "What do you want to ask?"

“I am currently doing preparing a variety of possible research projects on altered states of consciousness - not pharmacologically created states, but naturally occurring ones - and the changes that occur in the brain.” He explained as they began to walk over to the customary post-dunking hot chocolate.

“I do have brain wave readings from our experiment, since the sleep cycle was something I had intended to measure. It was clearly influenced by drug and alcohol consumption, and did not make the final analysis in any great detail. But I intend to go back and examine it more closely. Especially during the performances themselves. And maybe take some additional readings as well, if you would be open to it.” He continued. “You have said before that, for you, drumming is a spiritual experience. I am interested in measuring what that looks like in the brain.”

Aarne is listening carefully as they walk. Though he's not a scientist he's very interested in music and the idea of knowing how music effected him; physically in the first study and seemingly mental or emotional in this new idea.

"Would I need to be sober?" That is the first question that pops into his mind but as he thinks more there are other options too. "Do you want to talk to the other Pagans? Vars does spiritual work before going on stage and the Danes do a lot of spiritual work."

He wasn't sure how much the others did on a day to day basis but there were a large number of Pagans on the tour. "I don't know how much the others but I know almost every musician has a spiritual routine before stage." The interest was definitely a yes from Aarne, at least.

“I do not know yet.” He replied about the element of sobriety. “I am still designing the hypothetical experiment itself and how best to gather the data. At this point, I am gauging interest.”

Which, it seemed, was positive on Aarne’s part.

“Is that why you asked me about wearing a monitoring device during the qualifiers?” Minoru asked as he fetched a couple of cups of hot chocolate.

“Yes, though, I understand why you declined. The last thing I wish to do is create suspicion of some kind.”

“Totally happy to wear it during a workout or something, but I don’t want to risk it in the actual competition. I mean, IRIS tech doesn’t exist in our world. What if they thought it was sone kind of performance enhancing thing? I don’t want to be accused of cheating!”

“Which I understand completely.”

Aarne listened to the discussion and nodded along.

"What about the people who think sex is spiritual?" There was a question because he knew it was true for more than himself. "I want to do this."

He also thought Vars would be very interested in this kind of research.

He thought about that for a moment.

“I likely have some of those brain waves recorded from the experiment too…” he nodded. There were certainly some notable heart rate spikes in the middle of the night that needed very little speculation. “Though, it would be interesting to explore whether that does, indeed, create an altered state of consciousness.”

He was actually curious what states were marked by transient hypofrontality and the switch to alpha and even theta waves, but he didn’t say that out loud. He did not want to prime a potential participant.

“Which means, it might be worthwhile to test you both sober and under the influence, now that you mention it.”

Aarne shook his head."It's not the same, just having sex and doing it with spiritual intent."

The rest of it though, he's very interested in. "I wonder if different things cause different outcomes. Mick always complains Akvavit makes him feel hot but he's not."

Aarne might not be scientific as Isamu but he's nearly as curious about the nature of being alive. "I wonder if whiskey and Akvavit are different?"

Now his mind is turning on all sorts of different combinations. Then he stops and furrows his brow. "What about Rekker and Vars' medications from the doctor?"

As Aarne elaborated on spiritual sex, Isamu cocked his head to the side. “I was not aware that there was, or even could be, a difference. I am well aware of the neurological changes that occur during sexual acts. There is quite a bit of tantalizing research in that area, if I may say so. But this would certainly be an interesting topic to explore.”

Minoru gave a shrug to that whole line of thought. He sipped on his hot chocolate.

“Far be it from me to encourage anyone to forgo necessary prescription medication for the sake of an experiment. As far as the psychopharmacology of the medications themselves, that has likely been studied at length as part of the approval process.”

At least, that was how it worked in his world. Something that he’d even had a little exposure to in graduate school.

"I think they studied Christian brains when they were talking to God or some religious experience." Aarne hadn't read it well enough. "Shouldn't it be more intense if it is sex for the gods?"

That was at least what Aarne imagined. Brain changes with sex, brain changes with religious experience, if both are the same time it should be even more intense.

"I didn't mean not taking them but how it makes it different." Aarne bit his lip nervously and then shrugged. "Bjorn talks about Rekker a lot and I'm curious about his medication."

Aarne admitted it but he felt awkward for wanting to know.

“It is difficult to understand what something does without having a baseline from which to compare it to. Every experiment needs a control. For example, measuring your biometric data during your everyday activities as well as when you were performing on stage.”

In other words, there would be little he could do to sate that particular curiosity. To test how the medication affected the experience, he would need to measure the experience without the medication. He could extrapolate, perhaps, comparing the experience to others who were not on the medication, but it would depend a lot on the data. And on multiple drug studies he would undoubtedly need to familiarize himself with.

“The topic of neurotheology is more fascinating than I had intended. I read a paper just a few days ago that demonstrated the same increased frontal lobe activity and decreased parietal lobe activity in both praying Catholic nuns and meditating Buddhist monks. But decreased frontal lobe activity in Muslims engaged in their specific prayers.”

How do other activities compare? How do the brain waves change? How does neurotransmitter release change? Those were the questions Isamu most wanted to answer.

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject