Log:Union's Dues: The Nexus of Souls

Union's Dues 2021/04/12 Helen Union Grimm Radical Viv Felix Amelia 7

A little bit later -- time that is no time -- you will ... arrive.

Arrival should be a goat-cart pulling up to somewhere, and people climbing out, but it is not; more, the very fact that it is not is something that /should/ be jarring, but is not -- it almost seems expected. You stand next to each other, and excepting the silver choker around Grimm's neck, you are without your gadgets or accoutrements, without clothing or costumes or masks or disguises ... and yet there is no /possible/ way you could recognize each other's secret identity, for the people before you are the people you know, as you have always known them.

Each of you is in your body, but it is your perfected body, without aches and pains, injuries or handicaps; Helen (for example) stands without crutches or braces, for here she has no need of them. Here, the body is ... immaterial. Here, only the soul and its burden of actions, choices, beliefs, and emotions matters. Powers and magic do not matter; in fact, these are gone, vanished, the closest thing to powers any of those who have traveled here have is the thought and memory of such things. Transformations by spirits, blessings of gods, contact with nature or taming the font of cosmic energy, all are vanished and become only knowledge and memory. Here, you are what is important: your immortal soul, as-is.

There is no clothing, no -- but your body is your clothing, without embarrassment for its nakedness, without titillation, without erotica or sexuality; it is the innocence and ignorance of the Garden. You might look at another, and sure, they're naked, but ... it's /them/. The nakedness doesn't matter.

Amelia blushes, "Could have left us a fig leaf or two," she complains.

Grimm stares at the rod (which Amelia had given her) uncertainly. "I'm not proficient with any weapons," she admits. Suddenly Radical's martial arts training doesn't seem so weird. "But it's like a stick, and I can at least swing away at stuff," she supposes before their sudden arrival makes the rod vanish, along with so much else as they become their souls incarnate.

Quietly, Helen says, "Well. This is ... not quite how I expected it." She takes a tentative step forward, and --

Around you are people. Thousands, hundreds of thousands of people, going from here to there in a vast space that seems very much like the Transport Nexus in Colonial Bay. There are signs for directing people this way and that, to which many of them look for reference in a brief pause before walking briskly onwards.

In front of you, there is a long counter behind which are people giving help to the lines of new arrivals; those lines move briskly, a few moments, and then off they go, looking at guide-signs along the way.

"Um ... do we get in line?" Helen asks. "Maybe in the same line, so we don't get separated?"

Radical feels...way more at ease than he would have expected. "That makes...sense, I guess?"

Viv doesn't seem to be self-conscious about her nakedness, but she is concerned about what happened to her clothes. She looks about, calling out their various names.

There are hints and flickers around Viv, as though there were the memories of living clothes trying to make themselves manifest, but nothing ... quite ... makes it into being.

Grimm is surprised as her clothes and everything vanish. There are some things she did not expect to see au natural, nor did she expect to be seen in the same state by others. And yet it's not exactly bothering her. Not that she's all that shy in that regard with the right people. "Did you get us killed?" she asks. She reaches toward her neck to touch the choker to confirm it's still there. She looks around at her comrades, taking it all in for a moment. "Well. This is wild."

Both Grimm and Amelia have a really strong sense of deja-vu, as if having seen all of this before, of having gone through this before -- this, or something /very/ similar to this.

Lizzy is there, but -- somewhat peculiarly -- appears to be the anatomically-inaccurate Union.

Helen looks with some uncertainty at Radical, then nods and steps forward into a line; Felix steps in right behind her.

Grimm looks Radical up and down and grins a bit. "I'm surprised your head isn't exploding right now." She looks around and follows Helen into the lines. It takes a few moments. "Does...this place look familiar to anyone else?"

Amelia nods, "Kind of, yes. Although I thought it was a dying hallucination the last time."

Step forward. Pause; step forward. Pause.

Grimm looks confused. "Wait, what? But...I haven't died before," she says with uncertain confusion.

Radical says to Helen, "Remind me why we're HERE, exactly? Before we get asked questions?"

Viv says, "Yes, that's a good idea. Why are we here? Not to join the lines, right?"

Amelia says, "To be judged, I think. It might be different for some of you but that's what happens after death in my faith."

Talia, for the record, looks like Talia. She is shadowed by a second woman who looks very similar to (but not exactly the same as) Talia. For the moment, both Talia and her shadow remain quiet, seemingly trying not to draw attention to themselves.

"We need to find out what has happened with Union," says Helen. "Or rather, with Lizzy. So where she's going, or should be going, that's where we all go."

In another span of time that is no time, but which at least /seems/ to occupy some amount of it, the line shortens (and lengthens behind the living) as the eight of them move forward. "Christian, follow the crucifix. T'kelix, you'll want to follow the rising d'chark. Naugick, you have a bit of a walk, but the sidar should guide you. Asatru," he says to Helen, "you'll want the Yggdrasi-- wait. You're living."

The man leans over, looking up the line: Helen, Felix, Grimm, Radical, Amelia, Union, Viv, and Talia. "Asatru, Technarch, Pale Lady -- good, you have a rider -- Christian, Jewish, Colombian, Thaumatic, and Asatru -- you're all living. Oh, bother, get out of my line, you don't belong here. To Brother Gordian, all the way down at the end." He waves to the left, dismissing the lot of you, and calls out, "NEXT!!"

Grimm is left quietly thinking to herself on why this place could seem familiar. "But we're not dead..." she starts, then looks shocked at the mention of the Pale Lady. "Wait, what?" she steps out quickly when instructed to. At the mention of her rider, she tries to slip a finger under her choker and tug on it a little.

Amelia grins, "Well, that's a good start. Seems we aren't dead."

Union says, "What did he mean, 'Thaumatic'?"

Viv says, "Why is it always the line furthest away? I remember at this Transmat centre once I... where was that?..."

Felix shrugs, looking baffled. "I don't know what Technarch is!!" he says to Union. Besides, isn't -- he points to Viv. "That, uh ..." He quickly counts in his head. "You're Columbian. You're from Columbia?" He sounds even more baffled.

"W-wait, most of those were religions. The Pale Lady isn't someone I worship," Grimm tries to correct that even as they're getting directed elsewhere.

Radical tilts his head, "There might be time to ask this...Brother Gordian. I can't imagine the line of the living is terribly long here."

Union says, "No, but Columbia used to be a nickname for America. That's why the capitol is in the District of Columbia."

From the choker around Grimm's neck comes a soft silvery sound, a soft tiny horn. In her ear only, Grimm can hear the silver voice of her Rider say: << You work around the sacred and profane constantly, yet dedicate yourself to no god. At your end, with none to take you to them, those who use you will seize and destroy you for all time. >> There is a moment of hesitation, and then a diffident, << You might reconsider. >>'

Grimm suddenly looks incredibly haunted by whatever the rider just told her.

Viv says, "I suppose I *could* be Columbian? I don't know where I'm from!"

Indeed, Brother Gordian seems to be spending much of his time fiddling with a one-person cat's cradle. He looks up at the approach, eyes the group of heroes, and smiles slowly. "Oh, my, honest work. The living." He puts the string away (which is to say, it simply disappears) and leans forward. "How can I help you ladies and gentlemen?"

[CC] Union says, "Anyone bring a sword?" [CC] Helen says, "I double-dog dare you to say that out loud."

Radical say to Gordian, "We were...inquiring about one of our number. Union." He motions to Union. "Her situation was complicated, and is quite unclear at the moment."

'Brother Gordian' turns his gaze upon Union. "Well, come here, girl, I don't bite any more. Let's take a look at you."

Union steps forward, up to Brother Gordian.

Gordian contemplates Union for a moment. "Mmmm. Columbian ... ah, wait, you're a Bearer. Let's see --" He leans forward, and as if inspecting a brooch on a necklace, he draws into being a shiny copper Lincoln's-head penny. "You're ... oh, what an unusual manifestation. The others never actually physically transformed. New times, new mind, new choices, I suppose," he sighs. "Back in the day, it would have been a spear or shield or crown of laurels or something. Well. What happened to you? Why are you here? If you were no longer a Bearer, you wouldn't be like this." He looks at Union very intently, waiting for her answer.

Union says, "I, um, got hit by a bus."

Grimm settles back and listens quietly. Or half listens. She's left contemplating deep horrors from something the Rider revealed to her while trying to focus on the real situation. Though Talia and the shadowing woman catches her attention and earns Talia a raised eyebrow.

Gordian releases the penny, which returns back into Union as if falling into water, albeit without a splash. He snorts laughter at the description, though. "More to it than that, girl, spit it out. Hit by a bus would've either killed you or wouldn't've touched you, I expect."

Viv has felt out of her depth since the start of this business - well, since before then, given her amnesia - so is only half paying attention, and otherwise looking around distractedly.

Talia raises an eyebrow back at Grimm. She doesn't say anything at the moment, though that may be due to Brother Gordian's reaction to Union's explanation.

Union says, "Well, I was the... real me?...original me?... when it happened. And I woke up as the 'improved me'."

Radical sighs a bit as Union seems to want to say as little as possible.

Gordian nods. "Turned into the other you as you were dying?" he hazards a guess. "Hm. New one on me," he muses. "Well, that sounds like a judgement waiting to happen. You'll follow the freedom cap, then -- you know what that is, a freedom cap?"

Union says, "I've heard the term, but I've never seen one."

Gordian nods. "Kind of like a foraging cap, but conical -- a hat with a rounded peak but with the top flopped forward." He shuffles around behind the desk for a moment, then pulls out what looks like an oversized flash-card with an image. "Here you go."

[OOC] Helen says, "For those wondering: http://i.etsystatic.com/7950525/r/il/bbb7c4/2078521663/il_570xN.2078521663_d34s.jpg" [OOC] Helen says, "So kind of a flopped-forward ski cap."

Gordian makes sure the others can see the image as well. "You'll be going to meet your Judges and their advisors," he says to Lizzy/Union, "so I'd be polite at least, but you lot are the living, and you're never predictable. So all I can say, really, is good luck."

Viv says, "A hat? Here? I haven't seen a lot of clothes..."

Radical nods slowly. "Hmm. Interesting."

The guide in the booth smiles at Viv. "Not on someone's head, on the signs." He points towards a nearby sign which, along with crosses and trees and sidar and rising d'charks, has a flopped-over cap just like on his card.

Grimm looks worried at the mention of judges and advisors.

Union heads toward the sign.

Viv says, "Oh. A funny symbol. I wonder what symbol hat-worshippers follow..." She follows along with Union.

Radical notices Grimm's unease. "You...need not be worried." He smiles, "Seriously." He then also follows the others.

Helen walks -- walks!! which should be amazing and wonderful and in this place just /isn't/ -- along with Viv. "The perfect hat, maybe?" she suggests. "I dunno. Yggdrasil for Asatru makes sense to me, but when it comes to religion, hat-worshipers would probably have their own particular symbol. These seem ... I don't know, echoes, maybe? Of what people are like when they're alive?"

Grimm follows Radical and shakes her head. "It's...something else. We...we can talk about it later," she says distantly. "We're close to getting answers for Union. And I kind of want to know about that," she motions over to Talia's shadow.

Talia blinks at Grimm's motion. She looks over her shoulder. Talia's shadow looks over her own shoulder. Both of them look back toward Grimm with a puzzled sort of expression. For the moment, they both follow the others along the trail of freedom caps.

... though every now and then the 'echo' behind Talia looks around nervously, but otherwise does exactly as Talia does, exactly when she does it, but only Helen and Radical manage to spot that.

Viv is ... clearly distracted; there is familiarity but with no idea as to /why/ something or a distant someone is familiar. Everyone else is on something of a scavenger or Easter egg hunt, getting a little lost amongst a host of utterly unfamiliar symbology, when someone locates another freedom cap with its arrow and manages to move everyone along.

The trail, however, is made to be followed by the Dead; it is the living's distractibility that makes it difficult. Eventually, however, you stand before one of the exits from the great Nexus, a pair of pillars holding up a classic triangular pediment that displays a carven scene of a twentysomething young woman in jacket, dress, and with that flopped-over freedom cap holding a long musket in one hand and gesturing forward with the other. Around her are other figures, women and men with tools of their trade, looking forward and upwards.

The doors themselves are a good three, maybe four meters tall, thick rich wood stained dark, battered and dented and scarred with bullet pock-marks and axe-gashes and sword-slashes and cannonball impacts. Against them all the doors have held, refusing to collapse inwards. But they each have a handle; to enter, all you have to do is grip and, with the same willing effort one had in life of upholding the ideals they represent, pull them open.

Helen stands in front of them, next to the others, then turns her head to look at Union. "I guess this is your door."