nexus_sages | In which Winter has a thematically appropriate query

Not all Nexus days can be sunshine and beautiful frost patterns. Days like this are a grim, sombre grey. The mist is so thin in places that all it does is make the distance fade away sooner than normal, but it does apply a more reserved filter on a place often filled with joyous shenanigans. No, this is unmistakeably a day which makes the multiverse feel close, secretive.

It's in this clandestine scenery that Reynard strolls about. Far from hopping or skating through the landscape, he strolls about the place, setting ice on the path and covering it with a dusting of snow. In the residential and commercial districts, he's sent ice along as many pipes as he could find. As he goes he rumbles a low slow tune. Some might recognise the sea shanty when he reaches the familiar 'Ho... Ho... and up she rises...'. He's not a bad singer, all things considered.

He looks up from his work and fixes his eyes on the nearest stranger, singing fading into a deep hum and then silence before he speaks. "What is the coldest thing you've ever done? The most cold hearted act you've ever brought yourself to commit. Go ahead. I'm not one to judge."

Just as the quiet settles back into place, he pipes up again. "Actually, you can tell me the literal coldest thing you've ever done too, if you'd prefer. I can't resist a good ice story."

((Reynard is still handing out Winter Curses & Blessings and causing trouble if you would like to avail of any. Other than that: Caution to those who talk to spirits, they are proud and fickle people.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah. That is, if I'm not AWOL in some dimensional anomaly getting shitfaced."

His shoulders sag with an invisible weight and he smears a hand along his jaw. "God knows what state things'll be in when-- if I get back. Christ. How the fuck do I even explain this?

"... 'Look, sorry Boss, I've been stranded in a place that physics won't be able to define for a good, long time.' How's that sound?"

Reynard's lips curl into a grin. "Ah, so you haven't yet returned."

He taps the bar and has their glasses refilled again. Kaz is paying for all this... right?

"Enjoy your holiday while it lasts, my dear. Fretting won't help you now or later."

He doesn't seem too concerned about running up a tab. Whether or not he's actually good for it might be another matter. Hopefully exchange rates are in his favor.

"Nope. I've talked to a guy who says he can make me a portal, but I'm still leery of doing business with self-styled 'mages' who have ... uh, horns and crab claws." He mimes a pincer.

"You go back and forth much, North? Know anyone trustworthy?"

The description gets a chuckle. "I go back and forth all the time. My portal has stayed open and I'm a mountain guide these days so knowing how to find it isn't much of an issue. I have one of those... devices? Ones for teleporting, but I've never been much good with technology. I'll figure it out when I need it."

"Oh, right, right! One of those uh ... pointer things? A bounty hunter babe I was talking to mentioned those. Said they weren't much use unless you've got your coordinates." While he talks, he fishes in his breast pocket and pulls out a Rite in the Rain notebook with a golf pencil tucked in the spiral. He flips it open. "A ...uhhh--PINpoint! That's it..."

He closes the notebook and hooks a thumb at Reynard. "You're telling me a guy dressed like that isn't a whiz at technology? I'm shocked."

"Miss Hunter Aran, yes, she would," he purrs and strokes his beard. "I'm sure it wouldn't take much to get the right co-ordinates if you knew how."

The jab receives a barking laugh. "I'm fine with guns and cars. After that I stopped bothering too hard to keep up. I can still use the internet though." Just about.

He blearily notes Reynard's fond tone; seems Samus has a growing fan club.

"The internet! Good for you!" he chuckles, hiding his ignorance behind a sip of his drink. "I don't blame you for falling behind. Twentieth Century technology is moving so fast."

He feigns fiddling with his notebook and not-so-stealthily scribbles something that may not be legible outside of a drunken haze: Internet??

"Hell, a gun and a good four-wheel drive are all you really need in those mountains."

She's legitimately dangerous, and pretty. Both of which make her far more fun than most women.

Reynard spies the note, but doesn't ask about it just yet. He won't forget it, either. "A trusty steed and a familiar weapon are always a good combination for survival. Are you much of a fighter yourself?"

"Don't get me started. Nothing makes you feel quite so alive ... so aware of your own body as a good, physical fight." The corner of his mouth curls up in a smirk. "Except, you know, sex."

Kaz draws a lazy circle in the air with an index finger. "Back to that love and hate thing. Passion, adrenaline ... it all comes from that primal part of our brains. The part we try to ignore even though it's so goddamn exciting."

"A good, hard fight... and then sex afterwards... Perfect!" Reynard agrees with a thoughtful nod. He grins at Kaz. "Living unapologetically in the present makes for wonderful memories for the future."

"If you're lucky enough to find a partner who agrees to that, um, special arrangement, sure," Miller says with a laugh.

He raises his glass in a toast to that second part, tequila sloshing precariously with the motion. "But sure, no regrets! Cheers to that, buddy."

... Even though everything indicates he will deeply regret drinking this much.

Reynard raises his glass and clinks it against the tequila with enough careful dexterity to confirm that the alcohol isn't affecting him in the slightest. Not in any bad way, that is.

"Cheers."

Once he's downed that, he slaps the counter and looks around. "Lovely as this has been, my dear, I should be moving on."

Miller downs his own drink and clears his throat. "Thanks for shootin' the breeze, North."

He moves to clap a friendly hand on his shoulder, but pauses and laughs. "Ah--! Right. Right."

Kaz settles for a finger gun instead. "Take it easy."

A large smile spreads across his lips when Kaz manages to catch himself from giving his hand frostbite. He moves to a stand and tips his head as he touches his hat.

"Thanks for the drinks. Enjoy your evening, my dear, now that you're out of the cold."

In which Winter has a thematically appropriate query

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