nexus_crossings | Cleaning up after chaos: A post Khan event question

Cleaning up after chaos: A post Khan event question

Not everyone who frequents the Nexus was unfortunate enough to be caught up in Khan's attack. Reynard had ended Winter in his own world and engaged in his usual annual seclusion that, as it always did, ended once he had run out of alcohol. The sight of an obliterated Nexus was not the pub crawling paradise he'd remembered it as. It seems that he's missed the action and stumbled into the aftermath. People are tired, disoriented, upset and in shock, or powering through their emotions by helping organise everyone else. Without much of a thought, Reynard falls into a group that is already working to set everything right again. Or as right as things can be set. As it turns out, an atmosphere of destruction and tragedy does wonders for a Spring-sick Winter spirit.

He looks as awful as he feels, and far more sober than he'd like to be. He's forgone his coat, but kept his gloves on and a makeshift mask for the work at hand. Reynard has volunteered for the grim task of working with the dead. In a shaded area he helps move bodies to rest side by side, covered in shrouds that have started to vary in colour as they run through their supplies. These are the ones who have not, or cannot, be identified.

It's been a long day, and it's been hard graft, and everything feels hotter than it is, especially with the cloth around his face. Reynard takes his gloves off, leans against the edge of a table, and pulls away the mask, revealing an unkempt beard. "What would you like to happen at your funeral?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Only a hundred years," Adia remarks, more thoughtful than surprised. Reynard's Earth has limited space travel and uses fossil fuels, it makes sense that their understanding of germs is relatively recent, as well. "You know more than you give yourself credit for. And yes, different germs live in different places. That's true for all microorganisms, but it's especially important for germs because it determines how they're transmitted."

She looks ready to say more, but pauses and reaches for her coffee instead. Always ready for a good talk about germs, she'd rather not bombard Reynard with information just yet. "I'm going to see if I can find a microscope that I can borrow... or at least some quality photos. Part of the fun is seeing what these things actually look like."

That makes her feel a little better, even though she shakes her head at his self-assessment. "No, you're... you're experienced and wise. I don't know anything about fighting or strategy."

It's high praise to hear Adia's approval of his knowledge and he can't help but smile. Some things he might not understand, but he tries to keep up with what's relevant. "I talk to my fair share of farmers, and they're all too happy to share their worries."

"I've seen some of them before," he chimes in. The idea that he's more familiar with these things than he thought adds a touch of enthusiasm as he waves a fork and talks. "They're colourfull blobs with tiny hairs and eyes, and speckled skin. Some are roundish and some are long. I've seen them on posters in hospitals and doctors officers."

Her compliment gets a chuckle. "That is a much kinder perspective." Then he sighs and tries for an encouraging smile. "We can't know what will happen. We can only hope our actions will bring about some good."

"It'd make sense for them to worry about that, domestic animals are prone to so many diseases... how come you're talking to farmers? It is because of where you live?" She's rather proud of Reynard for trying to stay relevant, especially for things that might not affect him directly.

But it sounds like he'll still need some education on the subject, because... germs don't have eyes. Or color, really, or... what is he talking about? She listens in confusion until he mentions that he's seen these creatures on posters, and then his description clicks. "Um... I think what you saw were... cartoons, maybe? An artistic license. Germs don't look like that."

She feels a little bad breaking the news, not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm. That's kind of adorable, though. She doesn't think him any less wise, at least. She nods thoughtfully at his advice. "I feel like the future is even more uncertain for me now, but... not in a bad way, if that makes sense."

"I like farmers," he proclaims. "They hardly change, and if you know one then you'll know their family and the newer generation is easier to understand. Besides, land and animals are familiar topics."

It's true, Reynard deflates into a frown when she corrects him. Why would posters in a doctor's officebe wrong? He sighs and shakes his head. "Maybe they don't know what germs look like in my world."

He nods in understanding, eyes glazing over thoughtfully. "They say change is good. It's certainly not unwelcome sometimes. "

Based on his description, she can see why he likes them. "I never knew any farmers," she admits. "Most of our produce was grown on Aerilon." She looks at him thoughtfully. "Have you ever tried to grow anything?"

Aww, that's a shame, to see him lose his zest for the topic. "They probably do, but they want the posters to attract people's attention..." She sets aside her coffee mug and pats his arm encouragingly. "I can show you photos of microorganisms that are more complex than germs. Tardigrades are my favorite. They have eight little legs with claws on the end and they can live anywhere, even in space."

"I'll be curious to see how the Nexus rebuilds itself," she comments quietly, his comment on change making her think of the destruction outside. "The Nexus is always changing, but not usually so dramatically."

"Tried, yes, but I couldn't grow wild garlic if I had a host of it in a forest," he tells her with a wry grin. "I owned a farm once, but I ended up only raising animals. I'm good at working with animals. I took care of the village's horse when I had my farm, and I've been a shepherd more than once, but I can't grow plants."

They certainly caught his eye, but he almost prefers the idea that they don't know what germs look like in the first place. It soothes his ego. Adia's excited descriptions are a kind distraction. He gives her a look of utter scepticism. "How can something so small have so many legs and claws?"

He hums and follows her attention through the window to the trouble outside. "I think it will be all right. Time is strange here. The past might reappear suddenly, or the future. I have no idea what it will look like, but it will be all right."

"I find animals easier to care for than plants, too. Animals are much more vocal about their needs." It's easy to imagine Reynard as a shepherd, and she smiles at the thought. "I think I'd enjoy herding sheep, so long as they didn't stray too far. Did you play your flute for them?"

Rather than be put off by his skepticism, she's glad that he isn't taking her for her word. "There's an entire universe that's naked to the human eye, and that includes some very complex creatures. I'm really looking forward to showing it to you."

She blinks, then sighs and lets out a small laugh. "I had forgotten about that... it's too easy for me to forget that time isn't linear here."

"They wouldn't want to stray far if you were watching over them, my dear." The compliment is reflexive, a sure sign that he's getting a little better for her company. "I did play my flute for them on occasion, or sang. Perhaps that's why I had my fair share of strays. It's half the reason I'm such a good climber."

"I'm not sure how to feel about the thought of you showing me a whole world of miniature monsters," he admits lightly. More thoughtfully, he asks, "Do you ever get scared, knowing about the things you know? Tiny, invisible, clawed things running around everywhere sounds... unnerving, if nothing else."

He smiles, happy to hear her laugh. "It's easier for me. I've seen it, and felt it. It makes it harder to forget."

His charming compliment makes her giggle. "Good, because I'd do nothing but worry if they did." But rather than be further amused by him insulting his own singing, she shakes her head. "No, you have a lovely voice. Sheep are just... well, they aren't the brightest animals, but that's not their fault, they were bred to be like that. What's the farthest you had to go for a stray?"

It's not the first time she's been asked such a question, although usually it's from a germaphobe. "To be honest, I find it kind of comforting. The more I know about what's out there, the better I can protect myself, and others." She leans in reassuringly. "And they aren't all monsters. Most microorganisms are good for us, and the environment." A thought occurs to her and her mouth teases into another smile. "We wouldn't have fermentation without microbes, so you can thank them for that, at least."

She tilts her head a little, her fork poised over another bite of cake. "What does it feel like? I... I've noticed changes, but only when I'm absent for a few days. I've never seen it happen in front of me."

"You haven't heard my singing voice yet," he jokes back reflexively, before turning his attention onto her question. "How far?" He rumbles and rubs his jawline with a thumb. "It's difficult to tell. People measure differently as time passes... I've hiked for a few hours to get to strays before. They always find themselves in the trickiest places when they get lost."

It looks like she may have given him something to think about with that last point with the way he leans on one arm to consider it. In fact, the more he thinks, the further down the rabbit hole he goes. "The bad germs, the diseases, they don't think they're any worse than any of the others? Nature doesn't think they're any worse than any of the others, does it?"

"Personally I find it uncomfortable." Reynard's lips roll, his brow furrows, and his eyes glaze over as they look into the distance. "It feels like a part of the world twisting around and around, painfully tight, like wringing a cloth, or pinching a nerve. Then suddenly it pops into place, despite being very much out of place. It's so disorienting..." He looks at Adia again. "Have you ever been to somewhere that you only vaguely remember, perhaps from a dream or an early memory, and the nostalgia is so strong that it's sickening? You can almost smell it. You almost feel like you're a child again, but you also feel that you're not."

"I'll reserve judgement, then." She almost asks to hear it sometime, but she's worried that he'll ask her to make it a duet, the same way he got her to dance, and there is no way she is going to start singing in public. "Oh, that's a good point... that's probably why they end up lost, they get stuck somewhere and need help."

It'd be easy to answer that germs don't have nervous systems so they can't think at all, let alone consider their own morality, but that doesn't touch on the spirit of Reynard's question. "The only goal of a microorganism is to reproduce," she replies. "To keep passing along its genetic material. For some of them, that means sneaking into another living being and using it to make more of itself. We're just an environment... like a pond or a forest floor. It's all the same to them."

The analogy helps her to understand easily how uncomfortable such a change must be for him. She nods, a painful expression briefly passing over her face, one she hides with another bite of cake. "I felt that when I came here again after being away for three months. You remember that, right? The question I asked when we met via text. I still don't know if this is a different Nexus or the same one but at a different time... it doesn't really matter, anymore, but it was disconcerting for a while."

"It's like a magic trick, how easy it is for them to get onto a tiny crevice up high on the side of a cliff, and then for it to be impossible for them to get back down." He sighs and shakes his head, recalling past frustrations. Once he's done, he gives Adia a wry grin. "Now I only have to worry about people doing that. But they're much easier to direct."

Reynard settles into a thoughtful slouch to better rub his beard and sip at his coffee while he listens and thinks. Despite microorganisms being far from his mind throughout most of his life, he finds himself tentatively finding a level of understanding with them. "But they're essential to the way the world works? We couldn't live without them?"

The reminder of her predicament is met with a sympathetic cringe. "Mm, yes. That's what it feels like. To me, that is. It's… hm… unsettling. Fitting, really, since time is literally unsettled." His eyes and thoughts turn to Adia then. "Are you all right with this Nexus now? The change must have been upsetting."

She's not sure what he means at first, but then she remembers his mountain-climbing and laughs softly at the comparison. "My mom told me never to climb a tree that I can't get back out of, hopefully someone gave the same advice to the people you go climbing with."

Reynard is asking such good questions, she has to visibly hold back from going into full teaching mode. "They're a vital part of the ecosystem, for sure. For example, decomposition of matter is dependent on microbes. Without them, dead stuff would pile up... plant matter, especially. You could probably create a functioning artificial environment without microbes, but not a whole planet." She pauses thoughtfully and adds, "At least, that's how it works in my universe... and yours, too, probably. I can't speak for all realities."

It is comforting to know that he finds it just as disturbing as she does. "I'm fine with the Nexus... it's the friends I made that I miss the most." She looks down at her plate, mostly crumbs now, and sighs. "And I worry sometimes that it will happen again. That I'll show up one day and everyone I care about will be gone. It's already sort of happened... have you ever met Steve Rogers? He was badly injured during the invasion."

A finger appears to point and it wags at her alongside a nod. "I like that! I like that advice! I'm going to use it. Pass it on to all those climbers who think they're goats."

"Like the Seasons, then," he says quietly, reluctant to make any stupid observations. He shifts in his seat and rubs his chin. "Autumn must love them... Do they do well in Winter? It is the Season of death..."

Reynard nods along with her as she voices her fears. With everything she's been through, of course she'd fear losing her friends one way or another. Her mention of Steve makes him look at her to check her expression, to see all that it tells. It's not hard to tell that it's serious, and Reynard takes a slow, deep breath to prepare himself to walk a line. "I'm sorry to hear that, Adia. I've met him before, during Winter." Hesitantly he tries for an encouraging smile and offers, "You've met him, you know how sickly he is, and he refuses to submit to it. He might be the most stubborn man I've met."

"I can't promise they'll listen as well as I did," Adia says with another laugh, but she's obviously pleased that Reynard has put value to her mother's words. "Why do people climb mountains on your world? For fun?"

She gives him an encouraging smile. "Yes, like the seasons," she confirms. This is a new subject for him and she can see the way he carefully treads through it, trying to find his footing. "They aren't as active in the winter but microbes that live in the soil are always working. Many microorganisms do just fine in the cold, it's high heat that kills them."

As serious as a heart attack, or perhaps even worse, based on her downcast expression. She nods awkwardly when Reynard talks about meeting Steve, knowing how badly the blizzard must have affected his asthmatic lungs. But so far, no one has given her flak over being Reynard's friend, not even Blaze, so she doesn't dwell on the matter. She even smiles a little when Reynard comments on Steve's stubbornness. "If anyone can make a full recovery through sheer willpower, it's him," she agrees. "But it's happening on another world, with no way to contact him. I wish I could at least tell him that the rest of us are okay, and that I'm taking care of his pokemon..." And to find out if he's getting better. That would be nice, too.

"A man can hope," he tells her with a wide smile. Catchy, easy to remember advice is always the best, so her mother's phrase has a much better chance of sticking than his nagging. "Usually. Sometimes they climb for research, or to challenge themselves. A lot of people who get to the higher peaks are there for themselves, or occasionally for charity."

"They survive the cold?" He repeats it, surprised by the news. Cold climates aren't the most hospitable, and seems even stranger for a whole host of things to dislike the heat but be happy with the cold. "But they're so small, so... simple."

"He's with friends, isn't he?" Reynard reaches over to take her hand in his and squeeze gently. He looks her in the eye to make sure she can see he's being genuine. "This is good for him. He'll be able to focus entirely on his recovery. People like him... from what I know of him... they're too easily distracted by the needs of others. At least this way he'll only be able to work on his own needs, his own health."

"Research," she repeats thoughtfully, before nodding her approval. Research is a great reason to go just about anywhere. "What about you? Do you hear the mountains better once you've climbed them?"

"Not that simple, or else I wouldn't have anything to study." The joke comes easily, but it takes her another few moments to think of an answer Reynard will understand. "Microbes are very efficient organisms. They can withstand a lot of things that would cause larger, more complex creatures to break down. It's how they've survived for so long, in an environment that's always changing."

She doesn't need to look into Reynard's eyes to know that he's speaking the truth. She only knew Steve for a short time but his selflessness shone through like a beacon. She squeezes back without thinking, as if he might disappear, too. "He was so brave during the invasion. He didn't think twice about helping."

"Once I've learned to climb them," he agrees with a nod, his head bobbing from side to side. "It's like a conversation. We get to know each other, and the more we do, the better I can understand a mountain's quirks. It's good for predicting how well a climb will go. For me it's an easy way to make a living in an environment I understand. I don't last long in cities. Too many people, too many rules, too many cameras." He huffs his disbelief and informs her, "Everything's a camera in my world. Phones, watches... I hear they put them in pens and tiny, tiny little badges. And everything connects to everything else, but nobody actually connects to anything at all. Every time I go to a city they've change everything. Suddenly the doors are opening themselves, you have to navigate 'touch screens', and have 'ID' for all kinds of things. The 'right' ID, though, not just any ID."

Reynard smiles at her joke, but is soon back to rubbing his chin. For a few minutes he sits, silent in thought, until he looks at her again. "Do you mean like an egg? It's strong because it's a simple shape, so it doesn't have as many weak points. Is that what they're like?"

"That's... brave, yes..." It's clear from his face and his voice that there's a 'but' coming. Sure enough he continues with,"But a person has to know their limits, and accept them. There are different ways to be brave, different ways to help. Being smart is more valuable than being brave."

His answer about mountains makes her smile. The sounds of the mountains were her favorite, when Reynard gave her a small peek into how he hears the world, and the thought of having a conversation with them is a pleasant one. But that smile fades when Reynard complains about city life, first into mild confusion, and then into sympathy. This isn't the ranting of a cranky old man who can't figure out how to check himself out at the grocery store, or pay for something online. Cameras, IDs, technology that connects... it excludes him. How can an immortal spirit function in a world like that?

"I get it," she says quietly. "It sounds frustrating... and dangerous, to have everything connected like that." You never know when a sentient AI uprising will take advantage. "It must make it harder for you to blend in when you need to."

She finishes her coffee while he thinks, curious to hear what he'll say. His analogy surprises her. It's not one she's heard of before. "Microbes have a protective shell, of sorts. An egg is giant cell, essentially, and microbes are single-celled organisms. So... yeah, kind of."

It's a caveat she expects from him, the voice of reason from a Winter heart. "Sometimes being smart isn't enough," she replies, so softly that she probably didn't mean to say it out loud. She blushes a little and adds, "You're right, it's good to know your limits, but Steve wasn't doing anything he couldn't handle... I wasn't either."

One day having the same face across centuries in a world that so enjoys monitoring everyone is going to catch up with him. When that day comes who knows what will happen, or where he'll end up.

"I can't keep up with it," he sighs, shaking his head again. A moment passes and then he smiles at her, hoping to lighten the mood again. "Better to talk to mountains and farmers." A beat. "And scientists from other worlds."

Her answer manages to puzzle him more than enlighten him, and it shows. "Eggs are a cell? But I thought cells were tiny things. Wouldn't an egg have lots of cells in it, not be one?"

It's on the tip of his tongue to remark that Steve can hardly handle living on the calmest of days, nevermind in the middle of a battle. He manages to bite his tongue and hold back his comment. He sips at his coffee and says instead, "I disagree, but I'm not as warm as either of you. You did what you thought was right."

It's not difficult for Adia to imagine the trouble it would cause him. The concern does not leave her eyes, even when she returns his smile, flattered that he would include her in his favored conversational partners. "Do you feel like you do better here, when it comes to technology?" He texts, after all. Adia knew a few people from her grandmother's generation who refused to do even that.

"Ah, it depends." She wishes she had her biology textbook with her, it's been a while since she's dealt with the basics. "A chicken egg isn't technically one cell. But some single-celled eggs are visible without a microscope. They don't get any bigger than the period at the end of a sentence, though."

Best that he keeps that thought about Steve silent, not unless he wants Adia to start crying. She has been putting all her emotional energy into caring for Steve's pokemon, but her worry for her friend is always there, threatening to ruin her mood. "I know." Her smile is small, but sincere. "It's okay. I'll be warm enough for the both of us." There's no regret in the fact that she stayed to help during the invasion, only the wish that she could have done more.

It's an interesting question she poses, and he takes a minute to think about it. "No... I think that perhaps the technology does better with me. I can take my time to use the things here, and that makes all the difference. At home technology and the people who use it want everything to be fast. Here I can take as long as I like to compose a message."

His brow furrows some more and he rubs an eyebrow as he figures this out. "So cells, microbes and organisms are all different things?"

"As long as you stay safe, Adia." His shoulders slump as he looks at her and sighs. "Don't be afraid of running, or of saving yourself. Keeping yourself alive isn't something to be ashamed of." Eyes turn to their hands, clasping each other, and he squeezes again gently. "I worry that in this place you won't know that, and you'll get yourself hurt."

"I'm glad. Technology is... well, it's like anything else, I guess, it has its positives and negatives, but I'm glad you can use it here at your own pace." Even Adia hates to be rushed, she's certain that it must be that much worse for him.

"That's right." She beams at him, as if he has solved a clever riddle. "All living things are made up of cells. Microbes are single-celled organisms, and organisms are... well, anything biologically alive. Microbes, plants, animals, and fungi." It seems important to modify her definition of alive, for Reynard's sake.

So used to being the one who worries most, she's touched and a little tongue-tied by his admission. "I will... I mean, I am, Reynard, I promise. I've never taken the anti-violence field for granted." Her gaze also turns to their clasped hands, her grip warm and reassuring. "And I know when it's time to run. I've done plenty of that, too."

The understanding is something he's grateful for. It's a little embarrassing to be typing one index finger at a time while everyone around him has their fingers flying. "I'll get better at it. In time. I have plenty of that, at least."

Again, he takes his time to absorb this information. It's bizarre enough that he doesn't stop to question whether he's asking silly questions or not. Otherwise he might not follow up with, "Living things... So... Not rocks, or air, or water. They're not organisms? They're... not made up of cells?"

"Good." He takes a deep breath and strains out a smile, but he's troubled by all of it and that much shows in his eyes. "Good."

Deep down, she thinks that Reynard would do a lot better with technology if he was a little less stubborn, but everyone has to learn at their own pace. "I'm sure you will. You've had to learn more than just about anyone on your world."

She nods, pleased that he's come to that conclusion on his own. "That's right. Rocks are made of minerals, air is made of gases, and water is... well, water molecules. But none of them are made of cells, and none of them contain DNA, which is what cells use to replicate themselves." Anticipating his next question, she adds, "DNA is a long, long chain made up of molecules called nucleotides in the shape of a double helix. It's inside the nucleus of every cell, and it's like a blueprint. It tells the cell how to make another of its kind." Technically, some viruses contain only RNA, DNA's hard-working cousin, but she can explain that exception later. One thing at a time.

There's not anything left for her to say that would ease his mind. The Cylons are always a few jumps away from her ship, and the Nexus is full of hidden dangers. How fragile her life must seem in comparison to his. But looking into his eyes, she feels compelled to reassure him somehow. So she slips her hand out of his, then gets out of her chair so that she can give him a hug. As awkward as it is with him still sitting, it's the best she can do.

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

Incoming: Old Man Rant™

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject