nexus_crossings | a lost prince enters the plaza

a lost prince enters the plaza

Jalan had been through Hel. No literally. He'd walked through actual Hel and it honestly was one of the worst experiences of his life. Far less fire and brimstone then he thought though. It was mostly just a vast endless gray desert. Filled with, of course, countless abominations that wouldn't be out of place in the deepest dankest of nightmares. Which was why he was so very incredibly thrilled to discover there was actually an Exit. An exit that would take you anywhere you thought of when you opened it. Unless you weren't thinking of a 'where'. Then it just dumped you kinda... wherever. And Jalan wasn't really thinking about anything besides outrunning the terrifying lady demon who seemed rather keen on tearing off his delicate bits.

So he really didn't care very much where he ended up as he tumbled through the door. He spun around to slam the door shut, a magical black key clutched in his hand ready to lock it up tight so Little Miss Hellspawn couldn't eat his soul... only to discover there was no door. He looked around in confusion but ended up breathing a sigh of relief. His key was on a chain so he slipped it back around his neck as he got a good look around.

Didn't recognize anything one bit. But he wasn't really concerned. Honestly he was just grateful that he was alive and not in Hel, and there were no undead monstrosities looking at him with hungry eyes.

Of course what assaulted HIS eyes was a cacophony of colors and people and just a chaotic blend of LIFE IN GENERAL. Which was confusing all get out but definitely a relief after unending hellspawn for what felt like months. Still it left him a little lost as to what exactly to do next. While he wasn't too sure where exactly he was he also wasn't too keen on getting back to where he technically should be despite all the responsibilities and things left undone he had. Procrastination and avoidance were two of his greatest skills after all. Right after being charming and running really fast away from danger.

Speaking of being charming, he certainly needed to tap into that ability to address some of his more pressing issues.

"Pardon me," Lost, alone, and on the verge of dehydration, the prince put on his best, most charming of smiles and waved to the closest person, "Any chance you can point me in the direction of some decent food and drink? A change of clothes too... these have. Had it I think."

Plus he felt as if he was sticking out like a sore thumb. Most of the people here... well they weren't dressed like him really. In fact a lot of them reminded him of the little he'd seen of the ancient Builder's culture. Weird.

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What a mannerly request on the part of the prince! The voice catches the ear of one standing nearby, a tall man dressed in a suit of dark blue armor with a heavy-looking red cape down his back. With a pleasant smile on his face he turns to see who it is that's asking.

But regardless of a hopeful and somewhat sympathetic expression on the knight's face there's no denying that he's no longer among the living. His skin is deathly pale and tinged blue where the healthy red of living blood would make a normal person's cheeks and nose rosy. An unnatural blue light emanates from his eyes, but it's hardly bright in the daylight. The same sort of blue glow is brighter on the runes running along the blades of a pair of grim swords at his waist.

His hands, which have been severed at the wrist and float freely by some magical enchantment gesture to his own chest. "I got a couple'a coins on me," he says in a disarmingly rural accent. "You like pizza? I know a good place."

So maybe the Nexus isn't the greatest place to avoid the undead... But apparently here their hungry eyes are focused more on pizza than princes.

...Oh. Oh no. This man was most definitely Dead. He'd had enough experience with dozens of flavors of the undead he knew them better then the back of his own hand. Of course that the knight was corpse pale and blue was somewhat of a tell. One of them must have followed him out of the door somehow. At least it was just one. He could most definitely outrun just one.

...Though his usual fight or flight but mostly flight instincts weren't sounding the alarm quite yet. Much at least. Probably had something with this particular undead man behaving rather civilly and not salivating over though of sinking his teeth into his flesh.

"I do actually, I haven't had it quite some time," however any real excitement over having a dish from his homeland was somewhat dashed by other concerns, despite his stomach's insistence otherwise.

"But first...You wouldn't happen to be affiliated with the Dead King? Or the Lady Blue? Considering, well.."

He just gestures at the all of him.

"The dead king?" One of his floating hands rubs at his chin and his eyes narrow in thought. He stares at the prince for a few seconds before he tilts his head. It's not a nod, but it's not exactly a shake either.

"The Lich King? Yes and no. But I ain't ever met any Lady Blues, if that makes you feel better."

A little grin plays at his lips and he asks, "Wait a second here. Are you implyin' all undead know each other? Ain't that a little bit vitalist?"

"There's a Lich King too?!" his voice went up an octave and he ran a hand through his hair. Sweet Jesu help him. He was under the impression that there were only seven Liches and none of them a King. Which, in his mind, indicated some sort of... super lich. Liches were bad enough...

He shook his head. Oh there were still words coming out of Sir Undead's mouth. Paying attention to them probably would behoove him.

"In my defense you're the first undead I've come across who's been civil," which was weird enough in itself but he wasn't going to complain about that. Too much, "All of the other ones have been relatively keen on trying to separate me from my limbs and innards. And they all work for one of the two I just mentioned."

Harrowheart laughs at the prince's exasperation. It finally dawns on him that maybe this man isn't just your average beggar in the Nexus. He's probably a new arrival, what with his total incredulity at things that don't fit into his world view.

"Civil don't mean safe, for the record," he says with a humorless chuckle. "But as long as you're here, ain't nobody gonna be able to rip you up, no matter how much they want to. There's an anti-violence field up here, and usually it don't go down." He makes a point not to look in the direction of the buildings so recently destroyed by a raging Khan. Just stay focused on the pleasant plaza and the Nexus is a great place to be!

"Do you know where 'here' is, though? 'Cause I'm gettin' this 'I just showed up here and I want the spiel, also give me my pizza, dead man' vibe off'a you..." He wiggles his hand in a so-so motion. "Right or wrong?" Then he nods his head in another direction and starts to leave, and over his shoulder he calls, "Walk with me, talk with me! Either way I figure it ain't fair to keep you waitin' on food."

Katherine, for her part, is currently strolling through the Plaza, looking pleased as punch about...something.

She's merely in a particularly charming mood today, but the ex-queen is practically dancing, because it's nice enough out to wear a (gasp!) lighter dress. It's only got three layers instead of five, goodness!

When she sees the stranger, she slows her little solo semi-waltz down and smiles. He's pretty cute, she thinks.

"Do you need help?" she asks, her British accent sounding like that of, well, royalty. "I can show you an inn, if you'd like."

She's a little clueless about how forward that sounds, or perhaps she just doesn't care.

Hmm... that accent, someone from the Drowned Isles? He had gotten himself off course. Of course he didn't dwell on it too long. What she was saying was far more important then how she sounded. And too his credit his mind only dipped into the gutter very momentarily before his stomach and dry throat reminded that there were other more important things one could do at an inn.

"I'd be in your debt if you could," he breathed a sigh of relief, "You must be my guardian angel."

Maybe he was exaggerating a bit but she certainly was a sight for sore eyes at least. Familiar even, not as in someone he knew, but in general. She looked like the girls he always saw at summer parties in the royal palace of his homeland The Red March. He'd been away for so long.

She giggles, because Katherine know she's not exactly angelic. But still, she has a good heart, and so she smiles and beckons him to follow her.

"It's this way, come," she says, and starts walking in the direction of the inn where she stayed when she first arrived. She does want to help him, after all.

Jalan really needed little prompting to follow a gorgeous woman for any reason. Of course that's led him to significant trouble in certain cases in the past but he was relatively certain he's in the clear this time.

So he happily tailed her like an eager puppy.

"So what is the name of my savior?"

Edited 2017-05-07 05:00 (UTC)

"My name is Katherine Howard," she replies, flashing a happy grin back at him. "And I stayed at this inn when I first arrived as well. I knew I should repay the kindness that was offered to me."

She's basically half-skipping her way towards the inn, looking back to make sure he's following. Can't lose a new arrival, after all.

The closest person happens to be a monk seated underneath a flowering tree. He is quite at peace with the life of this place now that the chill of Winter has finally passed. It has been decades since he has smelled something so sweet as a flower in bloom, much less an entire tree.

The desert jasmine of his home world, while sweet, was nothing compared to this.

"Come, sit. Sit. Rest a while. You are weary."

Getting closer will reveal the monk's milky eyes, sightless from where he sits. That charming smile won't do the man any favors here.

Well then. Looks like here's one person who's not going to fooled by charming smiles. Not that he was trying to fool anyone. But generally speaking being as pleasant and open as you could be worked wonders when trying to get help from strangers.

"Weary?" he laughed, "That's probably the understatement of the century. I must sound pretty bad, huh?"

When was the last time he slept? Time in Hel was weird. Guess he had to add nap time to the list after water and food. And he really should've continued his search for those two items first but resting just sounded so GOOD right now that he found himself sinking to the ground and as soon as he sat he just knew he wouldn't be standing up again for a little while.

"You wouldn't happen to have a waterskin, would you?"

"I have heard worse."

The monk gives a knowing chuckle and shifts where he's sitting to allow for space to join him under the flowering tree. His staff leans against the trunk next to him and after a moment of rummaging through his robes a canteen is produced and handed over in short order.

"Slowly. Slowly. There is no rush here. I've a ration bar or two on myself as well if you need." He speaks as though he's well aware of the young man's troubles, though there's no way for him to have gleaned it considering they've not met before.

"This is not a place that is unkind to wanderers. You will be fine."

Edited 2017-05-10 14:46 (UTC)

"Hello!" Vaclav is coming from a rather popular pizza place, complete with a calzone and soda in his hands. It is always a wonderful kind of day when new people came to the Nexus. And with his face covered by a wad of black hair, and a thick accent Vaclav is ready to answer Jalan's question.

"Depends. I just went to an excellent pizza place! But sometimes people..." Vaclav uses his hand that is holding his Big Gulp cup to brush his hair from out of his face. He takes a better look at Jalan, and he gasps in horror. The guy doesn't look good from where he is standing, and it must be pure torture to have good smelling food near someone who looks famished.

"Want something else. That's where you find the cafe with a big friendly bear as a cook." He looks at the cup, Jalan, the cup and then Jalan again. "Or the market..." He trails off with an awkward look appearing on his face, and his mop of black hair falls back over his eyes.

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