The Others

The Nexus is behaving oddly today. There's a water-filled shaft by the Sign.

It's a deep one, too, as is evidenced by the way it remains so still for a long while before the surface of the water suddenly begins to ripple and a blonde, finned head abruptly breaks the surface, oceanic eyes looking around boredly.

Then blinking, then looking again, then once again.

"...This is not the Caves of Menaces," the head's owner says suspiciously.

It's a light female voice, so those who are witnessing this whole spectacle probably won't be surprised to see a mermaid emerge from the water, her tail flicking powerfully to launch her out of the water and high into the air - from there, obviously having a flair for the dramatic, she neatly backflips to put herself out of range of the shaft's edges and glows briefly, landing from her jump on a pair of very nice legs and looking around once more. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before. And these people...they're so strange," she murmurs, making another sweep of the area with her eyes and now spotting the Sign.

"That's painful." But she moves closer with a self-assured stride and squiiiints hard to make out what it's saying. "Ask a question? A question? I'm not going to ask a question. I don't take orders from strange signs. Especially when I don't know where I am."

"...So where in the world am I?"

((Ashefish in mermaid form -- Ashefish in humanoid form. Just so you know what you're meant to be seeing.))

Rain flops down on a couch and puts his feet up, laying his guitar against the arm of it beside him. "Most wonderful time of the year, my ass. For those of you that don't have family or friends, what do the holidays mean to you?"

Bouncing around the sign area and making Dog yodel excitedly as the big animal romps with her.

"So!" says the young woman, grinning from ear to ear as she shoves her hair out of her face with her splinted right hand. "I have a job! I heard this guy talking about a tournament that was open to the Nexus, 'n went and kicked a few guys in armor's $@$@#@s, and now I'm the king of Lore's monster hunter! And the sweetest part? Fifty gold coins per monster."

"Which brings up my question." She stops and flops onto the arm of a couch and puts an arm around Dog's neck. "Anybody know what to do with gold coins?"

There seems to be a rather large malamute in the Nexus today... or maybe a black and white wolf? Either way, he's here, and seems to be searching for something, or someone. With an irritated growl, the canine transforms into a dog-like mech. "That slagger'd better not have gotten himself killed..." And then he sights the sign. Cue the cursing and averting of optics, "Slaaaag. Is that thing someone's idea of a sick joke, or what?"

[ Suddenly, in the middle of $area_name, there is a guy in a black cloak on an inexplicably tall chair stacked on top other chairs in an atrocity of logic. It's possible that he just stacked said chairs there, but much more likely that it's entirely spontaneous. Either way, it's probably going to fall over soon. ]

I'm preeeeeetty sure this isn't where I'm supposed to be. Just guessing, mind! [ A quick glance at a notecard aaaaand -- ] ... yeah, this is wrong. Oh well! Clearly I am lost and confused and not at all shirking my duties again, honest, Saïx, it was a genuine mistake! ... Yes. That'll work.

Does anyone have a ladder?

Hank was restless. He asked, "How long does it take to get over someone?" He was thinking of his wife. Her betrayal and her death were mere moments apart, arguably the same thing. The pain was like a hydra's bite, always coming from where he was least prepared. He'd always began to accept one aspect of his loss just before the other would twist it's blade in his heart. And hence, he asked strangers what they thought; perhaps it could serve as a signpost on his endless journey.

There is a child in the Nexus. Not an unusual thing but she is frowning as she wanders on and looks for a place to sit. Finally she sees a big chair and at a half hobble climbs up and sits down with a huff. She glances around then nervously fiddles with her coat before deciding it's perfectly okay to unzip it.

"I got into an argument at school with some girls. I've never hidden the fact I'm adopted. I'm proud of my family. But... But. They were very mean. I didn't do anything wrong. But they said my real Mommy and Daddy couldn't have loved me if I wasn't with them."

She blinks back anger. It is an unwritten rule with her that people don't get to talk badly about her family. She loves everyone and is well aware of what happened so long ago and other people don't get to know that stuff, just family. "I should be talking to Mama about this. But how do you tell people they're stuck up jerks and should just leave you alone? I know there's lots of not nice people out there... And dumb ones too. How do you get them to leave you alone?"

She starts to tug at the ends of her hair. She knows that given her luck and what little she remembers about the Nexus Mama is going to find out about this real fast. She also isn't supposed to call people jerks even if they're real mean so she is expecting Mama to appear at any minute to give her a stern look. Mama is magical that way.

In fine literature, there is a reference to vorpal blades. It has often been speculated upon as to what exactly a vorpal blade is, what a vorpal anything is, and whether vorpal is an adjective, a noun, a part of a noun, an onomatopoeia, a political title, or perhaps a popular mixed drink.

There are those who firmly stand by the onomatopoeia theory, and it is to them this sudden heaving noise is dedicated.

Moments later, after a definitive waver in the air, a battered old police call box sort of just appears, littering the floor it appears on with soil and oddly colored bits of grass. Once the noise and fuss have subsided, the door opens, and a cricket batsman emerges, dusting himself off and adjusting the stick of celery attached to his lapel, and steps aside, propping the door open behind him to make way for the fine lady accompanying him this time 'round. He doesn't look at all disoriented or confused, though he looks about him curiously with the air of a newcoming tourist. He regards the sign solemnly and nods- it's far easier to acquiesce to the wishes of a place not riddled with imprisonment and malicious intent.

He takes a moment to think, certain that a question as simple as 'Will someone direct me to the nearest tea room' may not be taken quite as seriously as he'd like it to be. The locals- well, not locals, but similar enough- look quite colorful and diverse, and he fairly itches to go among them and explore.

He's got one! It's a bit more somber than he'd like to introduce himself with, but it's a start. "How would you evaluate yourself after being in a situation where you did unspeakable things to others, but completely against your will?" He seems troubled by this concept, as if it may have recently happened to him.


_{(( OOC: joint post! :D feat. vicioussweetie ))}

"Hi Everybody!" Jubilee enters the Nexus in an exhilarated mood. "You know, one of the best parts of the holiday season, in my opinion, is all the food that one gets to enjoy. I swear I gain so much my munching on gingerbread and shortbread and candy canes and nuts and oranges and stuffing and..."

"Well you get the idea. So, my question today is food related. What would you say is a food-favorite that is only available during a certain time of year?"

"And what meal would be the perfect 'last meal', if you could choose?"

"Who would you like to be remembered as? What deeds would you like to be remembered for?"

"I would like to apologize to anyone I mistreated at the Goblin King's ball. I assure you it was not intentional I just didn't seem to have any choice. I'm not sure what drove me to do it, but the point is, whether I could help it or not, I have to take responsibility for my actions. Have you ever been compelled to do something against your will? Did you regret it later?"

The architecture of the Nexus is in a perpetual state of flux, with objects and parts of structures appearing, moving, and vanishing in a constant tectonic ballet. Certain to spread a few ripples in that fluid landscape is the sudden appearance of a broad expanse of marble floor, inlaid with jade and malachite, surrounding a bonfire better described as a towering inferno. Along one edge, a colonnade shelters a goblin orchestra which is presently warming up--at least, let's hope that's what the cacophony of squeaks and squawks implies. And of course, front and center stands the goblin king, in all his splendor.

"The year's dark hours are fast upon us, children--at least, those of us who count. But is this a time for cowering in cold and darkness, waiting for its clutches? No! Now is the hour to hold night at arm's length, and someone warm a little closer. Come forth! Don a mask, eat, drink, dance, and make the year itself forget that it is cold. Even I shall be generous this night."

( Details, details. )