Enter the (Ex-)Imperator.

[eumenis]

There's a woman at the edge of the Parklands, knee-deep in grass. She looks like a soldier, one arm a metal prosthetic, a skull-shaped brand marking the nape of her neck, a machete in a sheath at her hip, and possibly other weapons hidden on her person. She's dirty, stained with dust and oil, and tension sings along the lines of her back and shoulders. Like she's waiting to be attacked.

At the same time, though, there's a distinctly misty look in her eyes as she stares out over the field before her. Flowers. Insects. Streams and lakes. Maybe she's hallucinating. Maybe she's dead.

She has one question, though, because beauty is so often a trap: "Is this water safe?"

Comments

[bitterguardian]

"Quite safe, although I'd be cautious accepting any food that's handed out, here. It can have... complicated consequences." The man who has paused to reply is a large figure, both tall and heavyset, and dressed in a manner that's probably unfamiliar to her. The clothes aren't impractical, but the vest is slightly rich fabric, and there's signs it's just slightly threadbare but also very clean and too soft to be protection against any but the mildest elements. He's clean and well-groomed, with a neatly trimmed beard, and there are jeweled rings on nearly each and every finger. He's also leaning on a sleek black cane with a silver handle, but it's hard to say yet if it's an elegant crutch or just for show.

Maybe the most striking thing about him is the gentleness of his expression, not pitying or condescending, but mildly concerned.

[eumenis]

Her eyes are slate green, like a stormy sky, and they're piercing when she looks him over, gauging, wary. Large, well-dressed men are a rarity where she comes from, and she has yet to meet any she liked, but she's smart enough not to judge at a glance. He's also ridiculously tidy, more well-kept than the wives used to be. He may have to forgive her later for assuming he's no kind of fighter. In any case, his body language says a lot more than his general appearance.

Still, he may notice her stance, turned so her metal arm is a barrier between her and him. She looks like fight-or-flight instincts could kick in very quickly, but they haven't yet. "Complicated like what?"

Poison is usually pretty simple, in her experience, so she doubts he means that.

[bitterguardian]

He's used to not being taken for a fighter, these days, so he'd hardly take offense at that. When he shifts on his feet, it's a move to ease weight off the left and shift it to the cane, so possibly it's not merely an accessory. His own eyes are dark, hard to read at a distance, but he seems friendly without being overly informal. He stays where he is, out of respect for the signals of caution he's picking up from her.

"I'm afraid that might be tricky to explain unless you've already had the basic rundown of this place. Do you... know where you are, or are you new to the Nexus?" His voice is deep, but rich and smooth and rolling, almost musical. He's easy to listen to.

[eumenis]

Her gaze stays locked on his face, but she notices that shift. Weakness in the left leg, check. Good to know.

A glimmer of humor enters her face, and her head tilts toward the distant signpost. "I can read, but the name doesn't tell me much. Should I consider myself warned twice now?"

So she's definitely new. Some of her tension is settling; this man does not seem to be a threat. Maybe even a potential ally.

[bitterguardian]

"Hmmm." He turns his head to study the sign, and there's a hint of amusement in his face. "Not terribly informative, is it? But I could grab you a brochure, or would you prefer the verbal explanation?" Without really waiting for a reply he continues, "This is a multiversal Nexus, a meeting-place of different worlds and realities, and you're welcome not to believe me of course, but I'm afraid the sooner one can come to terms with that, the easier the place will be to handle." It's only the tip of the iceberg and he knows it, but everything else is just details, as far as he's concerned.

"You've... probably stumbled here by accident, as most of us do, but it's usually possible for most people to get back home from here, and return as desired, with the aid of a little..." One hand waves around in a vague gesture. "Technological device. I'm not fond of them myself, but they do come in handy."

[eumenis]

Weakness in the left leg, check. Likes to talk, check-check. She doesn't complain. She'd rather listen, anyway.

Different worlds makes a surprising amount of sense to her. She knows hers is broken, and this place doesn't seem to be. It follows. Sort of. She may not be able to handle the quantum mechanical explanation, but she does manage a slow nod of comprehension.

She lets her mechanical left arm relax, resting around her hip level, and wanders a slow step closer to him. "I thought I might have lost my mind, or maybe died. It would've been bad timing. What kind of device, and is it possible to take something home from here?"

Because all these plants...so many plants...she has to get seeds.

[bitterguardian]

So far she's not wrong. It's not that he's vain enough to love the sound of his own voice, but Horvath has a deep love of words, and the use of them, and the freedom to speak freely here is a gift he's welcomed. He's not sure he's good with people, but he does like people, unless they give him a good reason not to.

"It... does happen, I'm afraid, that some people arrive here via death..." The look he gives her when he says this is cautious, gauging, but he's quick to continue. "But unless you recall some traumatic event that had you on the point of that, just prior to your arrival here, I wouldn't worry. Most of us simply slip through a temporary crack by misstep, and return home without incident. I've been going back and forth here for years now, and I'm none the worse off for it."

He's glad to see her approaching him, and up close he does tend to loom because he can't help it, but the cane and the extra pounds lend him the air of someone friendly and relatively non-threatening. "It's... possible to take things home, yes. I'd do so with caution. People will wonder where they came from, you know." Now that she's closer he offers a hand in greeting. "Maxim Horvath, by the way. Merlinian." He's not sure whether the last part will mean anything to her, but he does tend to lay all his cards on the table, when he's in the Nexus.

[eumenis]

"Mm. The punctured lung was almost a hundred days ago now. If I was going to die of it, I think I would have already." She shakes her head. "I was working in one of the garages."

Honestly, she might have just fallen asleep and dreamed her way to the Nexus. Stranger things have happened. In a world where the sea has literally evaporated due to nuclear disaster, there could be dimensional rifts all over the place. She may need a consult.

She's blissfully unaware of this at the moment, though, more inclined to focus on direct possibilities.

"They can wonder all they want, if we can get some of these plants to grow. We have a lot of mouths to feed." She points to a tree a few dozen yards away. "I've never seen a real peach tree. Only paintings and photos."

Never seen one, but she knows what it is, and she's excited, in an understated sort of way. And determined. Reacting belatedly to his name, she turns, glances at his hand, and then clasps his wrist. It's a powerful grip, actually. When you greet War Boys a handshake is a challenge. Not so, she thinks, with this man, but she'll match him for pressure all the same. "Furiosa. Of the Vuvalini of Many Mothers."

Not Imperator. Not any more.

[onemorebounty]

Most things are safe, here.

*The words come from a tall woman, blond, with sharp blue eyes and some kind of jumpsuit that covers her from the neck down like a second skin. She moves like a lioness at the stalk, and stops well out of weapon's reach of the other woman. The stance she chooses is straight-on, presenting a wide target, with no effort made to defend herself--at odds with her physique, the subtle hints of body language that bespeak concealed weapons, and the way she sizes Furiosa up with a warrior's eye.*

No one here can hurt you, unless you try to hurt them first, or consciously choose to let them. Welcome to the Nexus.

[eumenis]

The armor is strange to Furiosa, but she's good at sizing up a person by expression and body language, and what she sees strikes her as trustworthy: someone as accustomed to a fight as she is, but who feels no need to be cautious here.

Admittedly, she may have some small bias in favor of another woman. Some of her tension settles, and she takes an easy step closer, head tilted to regard the blonde. "I can finish a fight, but I don't plan to start any. My name is Furiosa."

[onemorebounty]

*Icon notwithstanding, Samus is in her "zero suit" at present. The introduction is met with a slight nod, and an extended, open hand.*

Samus Aran. Looks like you've seen some interesting times.

[eumenis]

She knows a handshake when she sees one, at least, although her inclination is more toward clasping arms. She closes the gap between them enough to grasp Samus' hand with surprising, wiry strength.

"Heh. I get the impression I'm an oddity here." Everyone else looks so pristine, clean and healthy. She's been people-watching. "My world is mostly desert. This much green is...mm."

It's beautiful, is what it is, in a way that makes her unutterably sad.

[onemorebounty]

*Samus usually favors a forearm-clasp, herself, but she's keeping her approach low-pressure, letting the newcomer find the interactions she's comfortable with. Her own introduction to the Nexus had been much more manic, and her nerves had suffered as a result. As for her grip, she matches Furiosa strength for strength, but no further.*

We're all oddities, here. It's perhaps the one common trait.

*Samus can recognize sorrow, and hazards a guess at its source.*

It wasn't always all desert, was it?

[eumenis]

"That's almost reassuring," Furiosa says dryly. "When do I stop feeling out of my depth?"

Her lips press into a thin line at the question, and she glances over her shoulder again, at the stretch of bloom behind her. "No. I even grew up in a Green Place, but it's gone now. All we can do is try to rebuild."

And she'll be damned if their efforts fail.

[onemorebounty]

It took me a few months. Part of the question is how much you want to adapt to it.

*Samus nods thoughtfully.*

I've seen ruined ecologies restored, it's not impossible. What kind of technical base do you have to work with?

*She glances down to the metal hand, and back up.*

I can make a few educated guesses, of course.

[eumenis]

Furiosa's eyebrows go up; that glance at her arm and back feels vaguely offensive. Not enough to call out, particularly not after having just promised not to start any fights. Still, she's ruffled.

"Variable." She answers tersely. "And dependent on what materials we can scavenge."

Actually, the technology they have is painfully rudimentary, but Furiosa has nothing to compare it to. She's telling the truth, though. The Citadel is wealthy. They have wind turbines and water pumps. Villages out in the wastes are far more medieval.

[ixis]

This Overlander looks remarkably more like what he would expect from them. War-ready, mechanical prosthetics, armed. He's not afraid of her, heavens no, he's not afraid of anything or anyone! But Naugus keeps a respectable distance, as well as a defensive crouch. The fingers on his staff drum and adjust their grip often.

"Why would it not be?"

[eumenis]

By contrast, Furiosa has no idea what to make of this person. She's seen plenty of individuals with strange mutations. That's par for the course in the Wasteland. But this...does not look like one of them.

For the moment, she chooses not to question too deeply, just looking back at him in stone-faced calm. "Could be radioactive. Could be acid. Most of the surface water where I come from is sour. Bad."

[ixis]

"Were it to prove the same level of lethal here, I could always conjure some for you. For a price, of course." He's already adapting to how this place demands barter and he'd rather prepare himself for when he really wants something off another exile.

To demonstrate, he twirls a hand and a blob of suspended water simply gathers and appears from the atmosphere itself, hovering over his palm. Neat, huh?

[eumenis]

Okay.

Okay, that's not normal. Granted, neither is a field of green grass and flowers and butterflies, dotted with clear ponds and streams. But she knows meadows and ponds used to exist, whereas people with horns and huge ears who collect water out of the very air never have.

At least, if they have she's damn well never heard about it.

Her expression doesn't change much, except for widening eyes, but her spine straightens, tension singing along the lines of her body as if she's deciding whether a fight-or-flight response is appropriate in this situation.

Then his words register, and she decides, all weirdness aside, it's all right. Bartering isn't unfamiliar. Settling again, she steps closer and tilts her head to peer at the blob in the air. "You...conjure it. And how would I know what you conjure is safe to drink?"

[ixis]

Wonder if Furiosa have ever been to Bartertown. Go say hi to Aunty Entity and check out the Thunderdome.

"Yes. Conjuration? Magic?" He says this like it's something that should be plainly obvious and common knowledge, like breathing or sunlight. "And why would I offer unsafe water? Do I have to drink it myself to reassure you? Hardly dignified."

((You rang?))

[aunty]

((Yeah, I have an Aunty Entity, too. Hi.))

[ixis]

(( HAHAHA most excellent. I'm in love. ))

[eumenis]

"I don't know you," she explains concisely. "So I have no reason to believe you would care for the lives of my people. Also, as far as I'm aware, magic is a fairy tale where I come from. Never seen it before."

She kind of wants to poke at the floating cluster of water. A lot. "What kind of price would you be asking, out of curiosity?"

[ixis]

He looks her over, perhaps for any readily obvious goods that would be worthwhile to ask in exchange. Her mechanical arm gets an open sneer when his eyes fall on it. Urrgh. Robotics.

"Coin? Currency? A favour would be easiest. And goodness, honestly, woman. Here." He raises the glob of water to his lips and takes a sip of it, smacking his lips afterwards, satisfied with the taste. Perfectly normal and safe magic water! "Better?"