nexus_crossings | (no subject)

(no subject)

As the temperature keeps dropping in the Nexus, a certain elderly Vulcan just keeps adding more cloaks to his attire. Some people may find humor in his excessive bundling but he and the cold are not overly fond of each other. Luckily there are ways to keep warm even in the increasing chill. The Plaza has no shortage of those little outdoor heating lamps set up alongside many of the couches that somehow manage to remain free of snow and frost despite the dip in temperature.

He could swear it was a might bit warmer here in the Plaza than it is anywhere else in the Nexus.

Spock only hesitates a moment before unsnapping the collar of his hooded coat so that he can speak and be heard properly. His bulky mittens don't seem to get too much in the way of that at least.

"What is an adequate gift to give someone you've not seen in a very long time?"

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Pandora does not get this cold. At least, not where the Na'vi live. Neytiri had laughed at Jake when he'd asked for a blanket that he could wear, but several days later, she presented him with a simple poncho woven from plant fibers, pretty much just a big blanket with a hole for his head.

It's better than nothing, but man, does he wish Pandoran animals had fur. If his fingers start turning blue, how would he know?

The nine-foot-tall Na'vi is crouched near one of the heating lamps, warming up while he contemplates where might be the best place to find some kinda coat big enough to fit him. Out of all the Avatar-sized human clothes RDA had made, they hadn't exactly expected needing cold weather gear on a tropical moon. At least he's got socks and boots, strange on his feet after a couple years running exclusively barefoot, a strangely modern match to his leather-and-bone tribal accessories. The question draws his attention, and he flashes a small grin at this guy, all bundled up like Jake wants to be. At least, he'll want to be once he gets out of range of the heating lamp. "What, are flowers outta style or something?"

What a remarkably large creature. Fascinating. Spock hasn't ever encountered a species like this one in all of his travels. Unfortunately, nothing he has on him will be large enough to fit the Na'vi so any attempts at sharing are sadly illogical and purely sentimental.

"I did not presume there would be many shops selling flowers with Winter approaching. Without knowing how large the Nexus is, where would they get their supply?" There certainly aren't terribly many plants flourishing that he can see around them. There have been some, however, odd alien plants that seem to thrive in the cooler clime. He'd rather like to study them sometime if he gets the chance.

The presumption that he would be giving said gift to a female is a recurring one, but that is the statistical likelihood of a gift given his own race and gender. Spock takes no offense to it. The captain rather used to enjoy flowers of all kinds during their exploratory mission.

“Good point,” Jake admits with a self-deprecating grin. “I haven’t done winter for a while. Maybe there’s a greenhouse somewhere. People used to have those, right?” Hey man, it’s been decades at least since his old home world used to grow that kinda thing, and plants aren’t really his thing. At least, they didn’t used to be. Kind of makes a difference when you can jack your brain into a tree and say hello to a goddess.

“It might matter how come you haven’t seen ‘em,” he adds, as the thought occurs to him. It might not be this guy’s fault, or maybe he’s catching up with an old army buddy or something. Maybe a distant relative. “What’s the sitrep?”

"We were separated for a time due to outside forces. I only recently discovered he was alive in the Nexus a few weeks ago."

He pauses at the choice of words Jake uses, clearly a bit confused by the terminology. Slowly he shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Ooh, all right, it's another guy. Someone this old guy thought was dead. Yeah, that's a hell of a thing to find a gift for. Jake is no expert, but he's pretty sure they don't even make greeting cards for I'm So Happy You're Alive or I'm Sorry I Thought You Were Dead. The market for it can't be terribly big.

"Ah, sitrep is situation report," he clarifies. Duh, Jake. He may have gotten used to the Omaticaya understanding some of the Sky People terms he throws around, but it's not like everyone else knows. You can take a Marine out of his entire body, but you can't take the Corps out of his soul, apparently.

"Not really sure what's the more fitting thing to do for that," he says contemplatively. "It's comin' up on Christmas, right? That kinda opens up your options a bit."

It's alright, Jake. Such antiquated human terms are not in Spock's vocabulary is all. He's always asking his human companions what some sort of lingo means fairly often. He's at least used to asking, and comfortable requesting clarification.

"I had thought perhaps I could find something to decorate his living quarters in the Nexus. Something to remind him of home. One neither of us can return to."

Can't return? All right, that sounds... vaguely ominous? But it's not like Jake can go home either. "Gotta make home feel like it, huh?" he says, a little sympathetic. "Kinda know the feeling. The new Hometree's great, but it's not the same."

Seems like a good time to introduce himself, though he doesn't offer a hand. Time spent among the Na'vi have trained him out of that particular habit. "The name's Jake Sully."

"Something to that effect, yes. Did you also lose your home? A new Hometree? Did the previous one finally pass on? Or is that just a turn of phrase for your kind?"

Spock has to admit he's all sorts of curious to see what he could learn from this man. He's fairly certain it's a man, anyway. Either way he's not a species the Vilcan has ever seen before.

"You may call me Spock, Mr. Sully. It is a pleasure to meet you." His manners have definitely been influenced by Jim over the years.

"The old Hometree wasn't my home for very long, but yeah." As long as he lives, Jake will never stop regretting his role in the destruction of the Omaticaya's home, and the lives of the hunters that were lost in the process. His pointed ears lay back a little in remembered sorrow and guilt, but his voice remains steady and clear. "It got destroyed. Cut down by sidewinders - uh, explosive missiles," he corrects himself, before he can slip too deep into the old military jargon of his past. "I'd only been living there for three months, but the Omaticaya clan had been there their whole lives." He shakes his head a little. "Eywa led us to a new Hometree and we've been there a couple years now. It's startin' to feel like home, even though we kinda had to start from scratch."

He smiles a little when Spock puts mister in front of his last time. He hasn't heard that particular form of address in a while. "Just Jake's fine. Good to meet you too."

Ah. Another home ravaged by violence. Spock bows his head in somber honor to the deceased there must have been cut down by such an event. He knows that feeling of loss all too well.

"My condolences. You and I are not so different then. I am gratified to know you were able to locate a suitable replacement for your home."

Shit, really? No wonder he'd said something about not being able to go home. Makes a hell of a lot of sense when home isn't there to go to. "Me too."

Spock said something about decorating to remind his buddy of home, and that's something Jake had empathize with. "Having new totems put up made a big difference in morale. We were able to salvage some bits and pieces from the wreck of the old Hometree. Memory cords, blankets, ceremonial stuff, that kinda thing. But a lot of it's new. Stuff that looks kinda like what we used to have, made from memory, or stuff that looks nothin' like the old stuff. Mo'at says it's like a tree growing back after it's cut. It might not look like it did before, but it's still growin'."

Jake's words are solemn and respectful and Spock nods along with what he's saying. There was nothing left to salvage from Vulcan's destruction but his people and others are still working to bring back what they can. Cross breeding plants in an effort to recover something close to native Vulcan crops. But Jim is not Vulcan, and while its destruction aches for him too, his loneliness is derived from being left behind.

Spock thinks back to his tiny wooden chest and the photo inside. Maybe he had the perfect gift to bring Jim all along.

"You speak words of wisdom, Jake. I believe I may know what I can do to ease the loss he feels."

Jake grins a little, showing off his sharp teeth. "I kinda borrowed the wisdom, but you're welcome. I'm tryin' to be the kind of guy who builds these days, instead of always tearing things down. Good thing to share what I've learned."

Maybe it's not so different, with the Omaticaya. Sure, it's not at all strict and disciplined like the military, but they're his brothers and sisters in arms, and he works for the good of the squad, not just his own glory. Sharing knowledge, resources... it doesn't make sense to keep it all to himself. Might as well apply it here, too.

Spock gives a thoughtful frown at the Na'vi. His own troubles may be sorted, but he hasn't forgotten Jake's plight either.

"I am certain you'll be able to find or request winter wear in your size somewhere within the shopping district. I have heard most are open to barter and trade as forms of payment. Do you require assistance?"

Jake's first reflex is to say nah, he's fine, but he takes a second look at Spock. This guy definitely looks like he knows where to get winter gear. Hell, he's wearing like three cloaks. "I dunno about require, but if you're offering, I wouldn't mind a hand. Been a while since I've had to go shopping. Window shopping doesn't count."

Gotta be warm, Jake. He's too old and also too green for these cold Winters. Half human he may be, but it's not the half that can adapt easily to cold climates. Let him bundle his hood and mouth back up and he'll lead the way toward the shopping district.

At...probably a rather slow pace for the nine foot tall Na'vi. Hope he's not in a hurry.

They pass by several stores that the Vulcan doesn't spare a second glance at. Tyko's Secondhand Treasures, a pub or tavern with a hanging sign that reads The Filthy Animal, and several clothing stores that look to be catered to humans. When they round the corner however, there's a much larger building across the street with a door large enough for Jake to easily get through. Gagazet Clothiers, the sign reads.

Jake will have to hold the door open for Spock. He won't be able to pull it open easily on his own at that size and also with his mittens on. Once inside where it's warmer, he pulls off his hood again and looks around.

"This seems promising."

Edited 2017-12-10 04:13 (UTC)

Jake would be in more of a hurry if he was barefoot like usual, but the RDA-issued boots give his toes plenty of protection against the chill. He does pull his tail closer to his body though, and tucks his braid inside the poncho against his back. The last thing he wants to do is lose either of those to frostbite.

He'd be impatient with just how slow Spock walks, but he's really old and he's got short legs, comparatively speaking. Can't get mad at an old guy.

It's been some time since Jake has seen more human-style architecture sized for folks his size, and his ears perk forward as the store comes into view. He doesn't even have to hunch over to get through the door, which is a welcome surprise, and he's more than happy to prop the heavy door open long enough for Spock get through.

"You're tellin' me," Jake agrees, looking around. Already he can tell that this is the good stuff. Any of this stuff wouldn't be outta place as Avatar gear. Right size, right shape... hell, even the right accommodations for a tail. No footwear that he can see, but that's all right, he's got that covered. It makes more sense when he catches sight of what must be one of the workers - if Na'vi had fur and a bigass horn sticking out of their foreheads, these guys could easily be cousins or something.

"Do not mind me. I am only here to observe." The old Vulcan gets a wary eye from the Ronso before he saunters over to Jake.

"Gherig Ronso. Let me know if you need help finding anything." Strange that this one has no horn. Has no fur. He's seen weirder in the Nexus though. Mostly small and tiny like the old man there. His speech comes a bit forced and stilted but their kind aren't big on talking.

He's learned better because of customer service.

Jake's used to hearing hesitant English, though the accent's a bit different, and for a moment he's tempted to try speaking Na'vi in case that's easier. But fur and horns means that's probably a long shot, and they've already got one language in common for sure. So he just puts on a friendly smile and lightly touches his own forehead in the traditional Na'vi greeting. "I'm lookin' for cold weather gear. Parka, gloves, probably a hat or somethin'." It'd be embarrassing to come back to Pandora with frostbitten ears, after all.

The Ronso gives Jake a once over, folding his arms and making a low grunting sound that might sound threatening to some but is really just his thinkin' noise. He'll gesture for Jake to follow him to one of the corners of the store.

"Try these for size. No hats, but hoods on plenty."

"I suppose with those horns a hatter would be a rather rare thing for his kind." Spock stays dutifully out of the way. He's just glad for an excuse to be somewhere warm for a few minutes.

Hoods are fine, he can work with that. Jake tries on several of the coats, assessing their utility for him along with the warmth. Some too bulky, some too thin, some just plain old don't fit. But there are a few that seem to work, and it helps that he won't ever need to wear them at home on Pandora, just the Nexus. Or colder planets, if that ever comes up.

He settles on a rich purple coat that comes all the way down to his knees, its fur-lined hood excellently sized to tuck his braid inside to keep the neural fibers warm while still leaving plenty of space for his big blue head. Gloves are a bit easier to find, and he's pretty thankful that his Avatar body has five fingers instead of the natural four. Makes it a hell of a lot easier.

Payment should be easy, he hopes. He has several crafts made by the clan on him, including thanator claws and banshee beads. Heck, if they want the poncho, he's more than willing to trade that too. He shouldn't need it anymore, and it's been made by an expert weaver.

Gherig honestly looks a bit pleasantly surprised at the wares Jake has to trade. His people are also more barterers than accountants. He gladly will take that poncho if Jake's willing to trade it, as well as a couple strings of beads. They will make excellent adornments for some of the clothes Gherig already has here.

"Good hunting." He calls after the Na'vi once they've settled their trade. It's as close to a friendly goodbye as the Ronso know.

It's one that translates pretty well, and Jake gives a nod of thanks as he shrugs into the coat, leaving the poncho and beads behind. "You sure know how to pick 'em," he says appreciatively to Spock. This has been a hell of a successful trip, and on the first try, no less. This time, when they emerge back into the cold outdoors of the Nexus, the chill doesn't bite nearly as deep, stopped by the thick fabric of his new winter gear.

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