Reynard North (
shardofwinter) wrote in
nexus_crossings2018-02-01 01:19 pm
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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?"
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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"Now you're the one lyin'. Unless ya magicked yourself up some new peepers."
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"Ok. So maybe I didn't make them, exactly, but I was fixed up rather nicely."
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"Who fixed you up?" Majima asks casually, as he turns to peer down the hole he emerged from for any sign of his PINpoint.
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He could just come out with it, explain that Winter itself fixed his eyes so that he could continue to serve it… but where would be the fun in that? "My beloved. Devotion begets devotion. I dedicate all I do to her an she cares for me in turn."
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"Oi, those fresh eyes of yers still good enough to help me spot that PINpoint?"
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"Your eyesight. I want your eyesight."
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He wags a finger at Reynard. "Look, keep it to goods and services, buddy. No weird shit."
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He snorts. "Like you could actually take my sight. Let's get this over with. Gimme my PINpoint."
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When Majima agrees, Reynard's smile returns. He doesn't ask again or make any more comments. In fact, he doesn't give any warning before he marches swiftly up to Majima and raises a hand. A flash of brilliant white with all the burning force of the reflected sun burns into Majima's remaining eye. At the same time the cool weight of his PINpoint is placed into his hand, his thumb moved to a particular button. "That's the one you want. Don't get lost now."
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"Sonnuva bitch," he howls, clasping a hand over his eye. He expects the burning afterimage of the flash lingers far longer than is comfortable. As it fades, the world around him doesn't come back into focus --replaced instead by smears of shadows and the barest suggestions of light.
This is when panic starts to set in. He continues rubbing at his eye. "No, no, no. No.. You motherfucker."
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"Careful. You wouldn't want to lose your PINpoint again. It would be a shame if you had to trade your leg as well just to get it back."
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As much as a hasty retreat doesn't sit well with Majima's ego, neither does stumbling blindly around the freezing cold Nexus. He mashes the button on his PINpoint that he (hopes) will take him home and disappears in a blink.