Christopher (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
makeachoice) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2016-12-30 09:52 pm
makeachoice) wrote in nexus_crossings2016-12-30 09:52 pm
back and better than ever
An eye cracks open, the other soon following, vision bleary as it adjusts. Chris is met by a pale sky, and the raising fog of his own breath as he exhales. Snow descends slowly and gently, but it comes down in bunches like frozen cotton balls, and they cover his face and his glasses like cold, haphazard kisses. His palms are flat against the ground, chilled by the layer of snow he's laying on top of, and his clothing, a casual sweater and jeans, are not fairing too well as what melts beneath him begins to seep in.
He sits up with a look of a vague confusion, his brow knit and his mouth curved into a pout. But realization soon sweeps over his expression after a quick inspection of the area with a couple turns of his head. Mismatched furniture left out into the open? That is much too coincidental for this to not be the Nexus, really. So, with eased resignation, he figures that the Nexus is exactly where he must be.
Most ungracefully, he stands, hands swatting at the snow clinging to himself as he moves to his feat. With hunched shoulders, he draws in on himself for warmth, and his hands clasp and rub together.
Now what? There are questions to answer, he thinks. He had once stumbled into this place, and then, recently, somehow, he had accidentally and unintentionally stumbled out. And now, here he is again.
"Is there, like, a guidebook to these doors or gateways or whatever..?" He half mumbles, mostly to himself. Of course there isn't. Some people are lucky and can easily come in and out as they please. Some are stuck here forever. Or they visit once, and then they leave, and they stay gone. Or, like Chris, they trip in and out of the place.
Okay.
Priorities.
Those questions can be asked later. Or ignored. It doesn't matter right now.
He has some people to find.
[ ooc; oh my. it really has been awhile, hasn't it? to the new, hi, i'm linds, i play chris from until dawn. to the old, hello, i've missed you all dearly. familiar and unfamiliar faces are both welcome to chat or pester this nerd. somebody please give the guy some mittens. thanks ♥ ]
He sits up with a look of a vague confusion, his brow knit and his mouth curved into a pout. But realization soon sweeps over his expression after a quick inspection of the area with a couple turns of his head. Mismatched furniture left out into the open? That is much too coincidental for this to not be the Nexus, really. So, with eased resignation, he figures that the Nexus is exactly where he must be.
Most ungracefully, he stands, hands swatting at the snow clinging to himself as he moves to his feat. With hunched shoulders, he draws in on himself for warmth, and his hands clasp and rub together.
Now what? There are questions to answer, he thinks. He had once stumbled into this place, and then, recently, somehow, he had accidentally and unintentionally stumbled out. And now, here he is again.
"Is there, like, a guidebook to these doors or gateways or whatever..?" He half mumbles, mostly to himself. Of course there isn't. Some people are lucky and can easily come in and out as they please. Some are stuck here forever. Or they visit once, and then they leave, and they stay gone. Or, like Chris, they trip in and out of the place.
Okay.
Priorities.
Those questions can be asked later. Or ignored. It doesn't matter right now.
He has some people to find.
[ ooc; oh my. it really has been awhile, hasn't it? to the new, hi, i'm linds, i play chris from until dawn. to the old, hello, i've missed you all dearly. familiar and unfamiliar faces are both welcome to chat or pester this nerd. somebody please give the guy some mittens. thanks ♥ ]
no subject
"Dude, Nat, I fucking hate the snow." She knows. He knows she knows. But he has to retaliate it. "Good to be back. Seriously."
no subject
Trading sass and snark with Chris has always been something Natasha has enjoyed, moreso than she has ever outright told Chris. Once the kid had gotten over jumping every time she talked to him he'd been great fun to be around. She drapes her arms over his shoulders and pulls him into a short embrace. It's nothing more than a quick squeeze but it says more than her words do about how much she's missed him.
"....I was surprised you came back." After all, he'd been gone for long enough for her to wonder if he was coming back. She's kept his room clean and free of dust, but at this point it was habit moreso than any real expectation that it would be used again.
no subject
"Yeah, I, uh, heard I was gone for awhile." The concern there is evident. "I thought it had been a few days, but...apparently not."
no subject
She flicks the corner of Chris's glasses with her finger and grins after a moment when she's pulled away. Natasha truthfully doesn't want Chris to think she didn't miss him. Because she did.
"I kept your room clean." She decides not to make a huge deal about his absence. It sounds like he hadn't meant to be gone for long, which explains why he hadn't left a note or told her or anything. "...was home not all you hoped it would be?" And here is where the concern slips in quietly.
Her hand strays up and touches his shoulder. If he needs to talk about it--the gesture says-- she's there.