nexus_crossings | (no subject)

(no subject)

There is a large orange tabby cat exploring around the Nexus. He seems to be looking for someone in particular. Now, that in itself is not unusual.

However, this particular tabby cat is wearing a make-shift holster around his belly and there seems to be a Starfleet phaser encased in the holster. Only the top of the phaser is visible to the eye... but it looks covered with soot.

The cat is also being followed by a glowing blue light very closely.

After a few moments of being frustrated of not seeing anyone's face, from where he is on the ground... the orange tabby cat jumps his way up a few different Nexus fixtures, until he is higher up. He stares around the Nexus and makes a soft meowing sound. Almost questioning.

Anyone care to try to answer his question.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay, good enough. Her message had sounded... pre-recorded, somewhat. And she hasn't been responding to anything he's said so far, so it's probably not a live connection. Still, it's better than nothing, even if he doesn't have a clue about how it works or what it is.

"Okay," he says, directing his attention more towards the otter. "I'm working on it. Are you safe right now?"

Even as he speaks, though, he's getting underway, as her message sounded pretty damn urgent, and he has to figure out where to get mystery ingredients for whatever plan she has ASAP. A twitch of his fingers beckons Crookshanks to follow. Maybe the cat will be able to help him track down the scale and... Mugwort? Whatever that is.

The otter listens carefully. Then repeats what he said, in his voice. "I'm working on it. Are you safe right now?"

It turns, and heads off into the Nexus, swimming through the air to return to Hermione.

Crookshanks follows Jim, glad that the Starfleet captain is on the job. He looks up at Jim, wondering if perhaps a part of his dimension has influenced the Nexus. If perhaps the Nexus market might help them.

It is minutes later when the otter reappears. "I am safe right now, Jim. I have things in control." A scream echoes in the background of the message. "I can't leave. I have to keep the others safe. I need help."

Huh. Well that's... different. No time to puzzle over it though, and as the otter goes off to wherever it's headed, Jim's already on his way to the commercial district, keeping an eye out for any shop that looks like it might be helpful on the way to the Vulcan shop that Verity helped him find several months back. If nothing else, he imagines he can find the patchouli there, stocked for those who want to make their own incense.

When the otter returns, he doesn't slow down, listening to the message on the go. The scream in particular is worrying as fuck, no matter how safe Hermione says she is. "All right, hang in there. I'm working as fast as I can."

Once again the otter repeats the message, speaking in his voice, before disappearing back into the Nexus.

Crookshanks catches the scent of something. He bats at Jim's shoes, before heading over to a booth owned by a Pagan healer. She smiles up at the approaching customer. "May I help you?"

The feel of a paw smacking against his boot is enough to get his attention, following the cat towards the booth. Her stock certainly looks like it might hold the sort of thing he's looking for.

Jim smiles back on reflex, though of course this is no time to flirt. Or thank Crookshanks for the tip. "I'm hoping you might. Do you have any, uh, mugwort leaves, or basilisk scales? Or can you recommend somebody who might?"

"I certainly do have mugwort leaves." The healer takes out a small pot, filled with the crushed leaves.

"I only sell herbs... and don't deal with any item made from a living creature. So I can not help you with the basilisk scales."

Crookshanks jumps up on the counter. He paws at another section of the stand. Where there are some dried patchouli.

"Great. I'll take ten." That she doesn't have any scales is disappointing, but not surprising. And his attention is drawn to where Crookshanks is pawing at the other dried plants, easily recognizing it. "And eight of those," he adds, nodding towards the patchouli. He's going to have questions about what the heck this is all being used for, once there's the appropriate time to ask.

"You know anyone nearby that might sell scales?"

"Basiliks are very dangerous. I haven't heard of anyone who can successfully capture or kill one." The healer tells him. She places his requested his supplies in a bag. "What are you trading for these, today?"

Crookshanks sits tall, licking his paw, as he waits.

It's a good thing Jim has come here enough to start carrying trade items on him. Though some places are able to accept his Starfleet account for payment, he's aware that it's not at all the norm, so he rarely enters the Nexus without at least a few trinkets or whatnot on him.

The gold and platinum rings he has for trade are simple in design, in case the material is more valuable than the craft. He also has some more complex pieces in silver, for higher value purchases. "Take your pick."

The healer takes the gold ring as payment. "Good luck in your search."

Crookshanks stretches out, sniffs the air again, and then starts heading north. He is following his instincts right now to find that last ingredient.

"Thanks." Though he's grateful that two of the items on the list have been found, he frowns to himself as he moves on, trying to think of where to go next. Basilisks are mythical, as far as he knows. Finding parts of one is gonna be hard.

"I wonder if it has to be a basilisk specifically," he says out loud, partly to himself, partly to Crookshanks. "There's a couple reptilian species I know of, but I don't know if their scales could substitute."

Crookshanks meows in reply. He doesn't know what kind of potion that Hermione needs to make, and usually avoids the potion classrooms, so doesn't know if there would be a difference if another ingredient was retrieved.

And while he is willing to make a substitution in this case, he just wants to make sure that it would be the right decision.

So he looks up at Jim. Where are these reptilian scales he speaks of? He needs to use his nose to sniff the options.

Jim, of course, doesn't speak cat, so his response is just, "Yeah, that's what I figured you'd say." It's too bad the otter didn't come back, after the last message, but there's not much he can do about it.

He's never seen a pet store here before, but that doesn't mean there isn't one, so he keeps his eye out for one as they move along. That, or some kind of clinic; while it'd be a hell of a thing to explain why he might want another patron's shed scales in a non-creepy way, it might be necessary, if he can't find the real thing.

Crookshanks wishes that Jim could understand him. This is a time when he misses his witch. There has to be a way around this...

He picks up the scent of many animals, and heads that direction.

Jim has to pick up the pace a little to keep up. But he doesn't bother asking where the cat is going, because body language is more than enough - there's something up ahead that Crookshanks has noticed, and it's not like Jim would understand the answer anyway.

"When this is over, we're gonna have to see if we can rig up a universal translator for cat."

Crookshanks meows, agreeing with that statement. He soon arrives at his destination. A Nexus zoo. He rubs up against Jim's leg. He thinks they can find what they need here.

A zoo? Huh. Jim looks the place over as they step inside the gates. He and Crookshanks aren't the only visitors, though the foot traffic is light enough that it doesn't feel overly crowded. The animals on display seem to come from all sorts of planets and universes - some Earth animals, he recognizes, and is that a griffon in one pen? The Vulcan le-matyas, as well, are something that catch his attention. Others are wholly unfamiliar: a neon-colored plantlike creature that floats on the breeze, an amphibious creature whose anatomy is so bizarre and eldritch that it actually physically hurts to look at, a tiny furry creature that moves so fast he can't see anything more than its color.

It's fascinating stuff, and he makes a mental note to come back sometime. But sightseeing isn't in the cards today. They have a mission to complete, and no idea when the deadline is.

"Come on," he says out loud to the kneazle. "They've got to have a reptile section someplace, right?"

Crookshanks is already on the move, heading down a path deeper into the zoo. The signs along the path indicate that he is heading towards the reptile section.

And they soon arrive at an artificially cave area, where the reptiles are left in a natural setting. Crookshanks moves carefully, sniffing every now and then, until they arrive at a large indoor cavern, that has an information sign about the Basilik.

He meows at Jim. As if declaring their victory.

This enclosure is... pretty damn big. There's an odd sheen to the barrier keeping the as-yet unseen creature inside, as well, and the reason why becomes somewhat clear as Jim rapidly reads the sign.

"Up to fifty feet in length... exceptionally venomous fangs... anyone looking directly into their eyes causes instant death," he reads out loud, muttering under his breath. No wonder the healer hadn't ever heard of anybody taking one down. And why the zoo would need to have some kind of visual shield between the patrons and the magical snake inside. It's probably bad form to kill your customers, after all, and who knows how the anti-violence field would handle this kind of thing?

"Okay, I'm not dumb enough to go sneaking into a giant death snake's house. There's gotta be someone who looks after the animals that might be able to hook us up."

Crookshanks flattens his ears slightly. He could easily sneak into the den, quickly and efficiently. But he can't tell Jim that and wouldn't want the human to worry about him. Or try to follow him.

He looks around. And meows upon sighting a janitor. Perhaps that human will help?

Worth a shot, anyway. If nothing else, perhaps speaking to the janitor will distract Jim enough that the kneazle can sneak inside, if he'd like to try anyway.

"Excuse me," Jim calls out to the other person. "I've got kinda a weird question. Do you know how I could get my hands on a scale from this bad boy here?" He punctuates it by waving vaguely towards the basilisk enclosure.

The janitor frowns. It seems he gets the question far too often. "I'm sorry. But we are very careful with disposal of the creature's scales."

Crookshanks flattens his ears again. He makes his move to disappear down a hallway, while both Jim and the janitor are occupied.

"Careful? Are they a biohazard or something?" What the hell does Hermione need it for, if that's the case? This is getting weirder and weirder all the time, and if this wasn't apparently an emergency, he'd have a lot of questions.

Crookshanks' departure goes unnoticed by the captain, who isn't expecting the cat to go sneaking in to play with the giant murder snake.

"Not a biohazard. But a Basilisk skin is armoured like that of a dragon's, which deflects spells cast upon it. And we get too many in here, asking for the item, for its special properties in spells and potions." The janitor answers.

Jim frowns deeply. Should've expected that. If they let just anybody take scales from the poor thing, especially if they aren't dropping naturally over time, it wouldn't have any left, and that sounds probably fatal. Not to mention cruel. But if he can't get the actual item in question, maybe he can at least find out what people use them for. "What kind of special properties?"