nexus_sages | (no subject)

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Kazuhira Miller has made himself at home at a cozy Nexus seating group. He pores over a spread of newspapers and magazines covering a plethora of universes and alternate Earth timelines. To one side, a text book on theoretical physics is opened to a chapter on string theory and a cup of black coffee has formed a puckered ring over Donald Trump's leering face on an issue of Time Magazine.

He lays his current paper flat on the adjacent coffee table, leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and loosely clasp his palms. "What's the strangest news you've ever heard? Or, if you'd rather: what world event would you say has affected you the most?"

Miller's head turns and points to a four-inch stack of glossy flyers. He sighs. "And ... while we're at it, when did newspapers become seventy-percent ads?"

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Kaz smears a hand along his jaw, rasping against the stubble that's grown in the past two days. After a moment he says, "Nobody worth his salt offers services for free."

He turns back to his newspapers, now reading an opinion piece on something called 'millenials.'

Naugus frowns. "Well, fair warning. If a thin man with a cane comes around offering the same, I'd encourage you to avoid his offers. He'll do his level best to get you into debt and keep you there."

Poison the well now before the guy inevitably shows up, right? Right!

"So you have some competition? Why would people even bother with this other guy if your offer is such a steal?" He pushes up his aviators.

"Because they're idiots," is the flat answer. Long and short of it. "Overlanders only trust what looks like them, I've found. A great deal of needless bias simply because I'm not shaped like you are."

"Hah! Now that sounded like some honesty." Miller cracks a smile, drains the last of his coffee and puts his empty cup back on Trump's face.

"So what does someone like you do around here when you're not giving poor, stranded souls an offer they can't refuse?"

Edited 2015-12-28 03:27 (UTC)

"Whatever I care to! But mostly observe and offer my boundless and valuable insight in the forum from time to time. Magical research. Searching for greater understanding of how this curious zone works. Why?"

"Like I said, I've only been here all of two days -- just getting a feel for things."

He folds his paper in half and adds it to what must be the "done" pile. "So you make 'portals' with your 'magic'? What else can you do? Rabbits from hats?"

The corners of Naugus' mouth turn down immediately. A doubting Thomas? Not on his watch.

While still glaring at Kaz, the mage's finger points at that coffee mug resting on the ugly man's printed face. With a sharp noise like cracking glass, the object transforms from simple ceramic cup to one made of faceted green gemstone.

Kaz stares at the improved cup, processing this development. "... Huh."

He picks it up and turns it over in his hands, taps it with a fingernail. He lifts his sunglasses to scrutinize it more closely. "Huh."

Maybe to follow up as really obnoxiously showing off and to drive the point home, Naugus straightens up from the back of the sofa...

And bursts into flames.

The swirling orange fire leaps upwards and comes back down in a bright arc, landing next to Kaz's seat on the sofa. Sorry about any newspapers the blaze touches. But they don't last long, regaining form and solid mass, reshaping back into the bizarre figure that is Ixis Naugus. Now seated primly on the couch cushion, one leg crossed over the other knee, hand and claw clasped on top of them. His staff rests in the crook of one elbow.

"I can go on."

Miller instinctively dive-rolls over the coffee table to take cover behind the opposite couch.

He peers around the armrest, gun drawn and aimed at the monster-wizard. It takes him a moment to realize this was nothing but posturing. Besides, the "anti-violence field" had his back, right? Miller straightens his glasses and holsters his gun as he stands.

"Fine. Color me impressed," he says with crossed arms and an annoyed furrow in his brow.

Naugus chortles at the sight of the gun. Silly human, your weapons cannot harm me! Also, he can be extra smug thanks to the anti-violence field.

"You're going to have to believe in a lot of things that may have seemed unlikely in your world. I had to learn that Overlanders here aren't all horrible beasts bent on destruction and warfare. Anything is possible after a lesson like that!"

Kaz stomps out a stray ember that was trying to light on copy of the Wallstreet Journal. "That's starting to sink in alright."

He tames his hair with one hand and collects scattered periodicals with the other. "You could've driven the point home without the pyrotechnics, though."

"Could I? Doubters and nonbelievers tend to wave away nothing short of the grandest or most striking demonstrations. Might as well drive the point home, hm? Besides, I don't take well to my magicks being called tricks or sleight of hand. I take my craft very seriously."

Edited 2015-12-30 05:59 (UTC)

"Sorry to offend you. I'm just a foolish overlander, after all," Miller says, using the term with obvious sarcasm. He drops papers back into a pile on the coffee table with a clap.

"Besides... I can't help it if your presentation is a downright vaudevillian."

"Yes, well. I'm learning to not hold that against you." He pats Kaz's shoulder consolingly, this time with his one normal hand. There, there, I know you're just a silly Overlander. We all do our best.

Miller's eyes narrow at the touch and uses his tidying up as an excuse to shrug out of it. He pauses for a few beats mid-organization. "So ... what do you call yourself? In the event that someone might have a change of heart and actually want to enlist your invaluable and most impressive services?"

Always good to leave avenues open and stroke egos whenever possible.

Naugus hurries to stand up so he can do a flourished bow, complete with a twirled claw and deep dip at the waist.

"Ixis Naugus, friend! Sorcerer supreme and master of the elements. I'm quite easy to locate, all things told. I'm very well known around this zone."

He's hard to miss, one way or another.

Kaz, a little conflicted about how to respond to that special introduction, opts to fall back on his Japanese roots and returns the bow.

"Kazuhira Miller," he offers without further elaboration. "Maybe we'll be in touch."

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