nexus_crossings | Why people don't like spirits

Why people don't like spirits

The weather has been irritatingly unpredictable this year. Sunny one day, a blizzard the next. It's almost impossible to plan for. Today Reynard has made sure the Nexus is smothered in a thick blanket of snow, and it's nearly perfectly smooth. The Nexus might as well be a different landscape. It's hard to tell what a person is stepping on until they take the chance to wade in. Bins, boulders, benches, street curbs are all probably the most normal things a traveller might find themselves cracking shins and toes against.

At a very strategically chosen point however, some poor people find themselves in a bit of a bother. After getting this far all it takes is one step and they find themselves chest deep in the snow. Struggling will only testify to how packed tight the freezing blanket is. Digging themselves out might be possible, but slow.

It doesn't take long before a sing-song voice comes through the air.

"A house for a five headed creature,
A tool that carves rock and earth,
A measure against misadventure,
A gift often owned from birth."

Reynard walks on top of the snow with his usual confident stroll. He crouches in front of his unfortunate victim, tilts his head and asks, "What am I?"

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Snow that is chest-deep on a Na'vi is no small trick. Jake Sully had already been hurrying to pass through, his cold weather gear guarding his tropical-adapted body against the worst of the chill, when suddenly the ground beneath the snow seems to drop away, plunging him into seven feet of snow.

He blinks his big yellow eyes, baring sharp fangs in a grimace, flailing a little as he's enveloped by cold. Sure, the thick gear he's wearing keeps the worst of it at bay, but there's snow pushing up against any exposed inch of skin, threatening to spill down the collar of his coat or push itself up his sleeves. He can already feel it seeping into the tops of his boots.

"Great," he mutters, swiping at the snowdrift with hands that are not remotely adapted for this. Pointed ears catch the sound of some dumb-ass riddle, and he twists around until the speaker comes into view. Walking on top of the snow? That's bullshit. "That's kinda cheating, isn't it?"

Well, this is a creature he's never seen before. At first he thinks the blue is colouring for icy conditions, but upon closer inspection that seems to be the limit of its Winter attributes.

Then it-he speaks, pulling Reynard out of his thoughts. He looks around and then to the stranger again. "What is?"

"That," Jake says, jutting his chin in the direction of Reynard's feet, continuing to struggle against the cold press of snow around his body. "Walking on top of this mess. You some kinda elf or something?"

Shit, this stuff is cold. Jake digs around behind himself, tucking his long braid into the heavier fabric of his coat, way more concerned about the neural fibers of his tswin than his tail. He's got no idea if frostbite is even a thing when you're in the Nexus, but it sure as hell doesn't sound like it'd count as violence to him, and he's not in any hurry to find out the hard way.

Reynard scoffs and wrinkles up his nose. "An elf? No. No I am not!"

"And this is not a mess," he hurries on to add. He stands to sweep out his arm around him. "This is a carefully crafted environment with specific choices that make it perfect for creating memorable moments." He folds his arms. "I don't expect you to be able to appreciate it, but you could at least refrain from criticising what you don't understand."

Before Pandora, Jake would not have hesitated to scoff at the idea that this is something to be cherished or whatever. But now, okay, fine, obviously it means something to this dude. Who totally isn't an elf. Apparently.

"Sorry." Jake's ears twitch back for a brief moment, and he continues to push at the snow, trying to free himself enough to roll back towards higher ground. "Carefully crafted, huh?" he adds after a moment, eyeing the stranger.

The near-insult leaves Reynard eyeing the creature suspiciously. There goes his options for pretending he's a perfectly ordinary human. He shuffles his posture as he tries to figure out what to make of the stranger. "Very carefully. It takes finesse to get the snow this even. There's barely a blemish!"

If directly quoting the person he's speaking to are insults, there's a damn good chance Jake is gonna unintentionally insult him again sooner or later. As it is, he's assuming this guy is magic of some kind, because who else would be making some kind of pristine snowy landscape for the fun of it?

Dammit. This snowdrift is hell to get out of, damp and cold boxing him in. "You did a damn good job," Jake says, because really, he did, and snark doesn't seem to be getting him very far. Gotta try out those diplomacy skills, Jake, no matter how much you hate it. "How's the riddle play into all this?" Maybe he just likes riddles. If it's the price to get out, that ain't gonna go well.

Reynard narrows his eyes suspiciously at the compliment, but he'll take it. It might not be a sincere sentiment, but so long as the stranger pays due respect there's no harm done.

"Riddles are a good way to pass the time," he says simply. "They keep your mind sharp."

Timing, dude. Who wants to answer riddles when you're buried chest-deep in cold fluffy stuff? Jake frowns, not exactly thrilled with that answer, not that he can even remember what the hell the riddle was in the first place.

Definitely not giving up on trying to muddle his way out of this snowbank, though. Even if he has to tunnel his way out or something.

All right, fine. He ain't getting out in a hurry, might as well humor the guy while he struggles. "What was it again? Something with five heads?"

When he made this little trap he never expected to get such an unusual creature. While he repeats the riddle he tilts his head thoughtfully. They can both try to solve riddles. Reynard's will be: What areyou?

"A house for a five headed creature,
A tool that carves rock and earth,
A measure against misadventure,
A gift often owned from birth.
What am I?"

Nope, it doesn't make any more sense the second time around, now that he's actually listening. Riddles are not his thing, and thank Eywa it's not a thing with the Na'vi either. Trying to figure them out in English is tough enough.

Jake's ears lay back in frustration, both at the riddle and this damn snowbank. Five headed creature, okay, maybe fingers or toes? Full-blood Na'vi only have four on each hand or foot, but Jake was raised human and his avatar body has the normal human amount. The second line loses him right away though. Who carves rock with their fingers? And how would hands or feet guard against getting into trouble? Kinda the opposite, in his experience.

"You sure don't make this easy, do you?" Right, okay, might as well take a stab at it instead of just plain giving up at the first hurdle. "I dunno, fingernails?"

"Where would be the fun if it was easy?" Reynard almost scoffs at the idea. Really now, what's the point of a game that's too simple? He raises a critical eyebrow at the creature. "No. Hardly a house. A roof at a stretch, but not a house."

Jake grunts, thoroughly unsurprised that his guess was wrong. Riddles are hard, man. "Well it ain't skin." Maybe tswin instead? But no, this guy isn't Pandoran, why would his riddle revolve around Pandoran biology? Nah, gotta be something else.

"I'm guessing I can't get a hint." Motherfucker, this snow is deep. Easier to take out his frustrations on trying to carve his way out though. How the heck will he know if he's getting too cold? Not like his hands will turn bluer than they are. Har har, Jake.

While he has no issue with giving hints, the Winter spirit finds the stranger's roundabout request for one faintly lacking in manners. Not impolite, but not polite either. Reynard can't resist a grin. "Sometimes it's skin..."

Oh really? Jake's ears perk up at that. "Sometimes, huh?"

Okay, so only sometimes means it probably isn't a body part like he'd been thinking. Five headed creature still makes him think fingers or toes though; not much else he can think of that'd fit that description. So something that covers them. Made of leather, maybe? "Gloves? Or shoes?" Not that the Na'vi tend to use either, but Jake hasn’t forgotten being human. Basic equipment is easy.

Edited 2018-02-28 18:15 (UTC)

Reynard watches with that vague grin pinned to his face while the alien fumbles through his thoughts for an answer. That is, until he decides on a guess.

His eyebrows lift in surprise and for a moment he doesn't say anything. Then a laugh breaks through his shock and he grins again. "You're... right. The answer is 'shoes'."

It was a damn good hint, honestly. Jake's been living in a place where animal skins are one of the main ways of making what little clothing the Na'vi do wear. Good thing he's the one who had to answer the riddle though; most of the clan wouldn't know what the fuck a shoe even is.

"I am?" Jake sounds almost as surprised as Reynard is, blinking his big lantern eyes. "Cool."

It's partly because of the other's strange appearance that this is twice as surprising, but he got the answer nevertheless. Reynard sets his hands on his hips.

"Riddles and puzzles are a good way to keep the mind sharp. Would you like to try another?"

Jake's first instinct is to say hell no, but he stops and reconsiders, looking up at Reynard. "If I say yeah, will you give me a hand getting out of this, uh," Not mess, don't say mess, "snowbank?"

"Ah. Well that is a rather different kind of deal." Reynard folds his arms and surveys the trap before raising an eyebrow at the stranger. "If you can't get out alone you risk losing your life in this weather. Your life is almost certainly worth more than a riddle answer, don't you think?"

Oh so that's how it's gonna be, huh? Jake eyes him for a moment before renewing his attempts at getting out. If he can just get his feet up and get more horizontal, maybe he can army-crawl back to solid ground. Not a solution a Na'vi would probably think of; this one's all Marine. "Depends on the riddle, doesn't it?"

"It does," Reynard concedes with a nod. "But whatever you face to save your own life will make you struggle one way or another. Are you sure you would prefer to struggle with words and meanings instead of something more... tangible?"

All right, he's got Jake there. The Na'vi barks out a laugh. "Gotta admit, I'm not much of a words kinda guy." As if this not-elf dude hadn't already figured that out, but hey, honesty's gotta count for something, right?

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