voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post February]

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A New Platform [Intro Post February]

On the Train

Three days after the Voidtreckers return to the void after their adventures on the biosphere world, they are awoken by a familiar announcement.

"Good morning passengers, it is day Sixteen of the month of Jelly. Points have been updated on the system."

They have indeed, and everyone can spend the morning shopping. Those who have been on the train for a while will also be expecting the second announcement that comes a few hours later.

"Shortly arriving into a designated void platform. Exit from void in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." A lurch and a jolt and the windows fill with the fog that means they are at a platform. The fog seems thicker than usual and as they step out onto the platform they will find it is cold, very cold. Icy fog sticks to their clothing, makes it hard to see very far; the atmosphere is dark and gloomy.

As usual the first to leave the train notice nothing as they walk silently, rucksacks on their backs, towards the barriers: Alexis Rhodes, Elfnein, Itsuki Myoudouin, Ken Ichijouji, MT, Neku Sakuraba, Nike Lemercier, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Rainbow Dash, Rei Saotome, Taichi Yagami, Tsubomi Hanasaki, Yuri Tsukikage and Zechs Merquise all pass through the platform, not looking back before they disappear through the barriers and into the fog beyond.

But on the platform itself there are new faces. Wearing hoodies in all four colours, in various states of confusion.

For New Passengers

At first all they can see is steam, billowing around them as they come to their senses. As their eyes adjust, they will see they are on a platform, glass and dark stone rising in sturdy arches around them. Behind them is a set of barriers, and in front of them is a single track extending both ways into thick fog.

They are standing, in clothes that are not their own and a style they might not even recognise. They are carrying a rucksack on their back. For a moment it seems to just be them, alone in the white haze; then the steam begins to fade and they realise they aren’t alone.

The platform is not large with sixteen figures scattered around, all facing the tracks, all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies. To both the left and right, tracks disappear into the mist. Then there is a roaring sound and out of the fog arrives a train. Jet black with gold writing on the side. The Voidtrecker Express. There is a hiss as the doors slide open and out step a strange assortment of people. Some are human, some are less so. Most are wearing the same hoodie in one of the four colours, red, orange, blue and purple, though some are sporting different clothes in a variety of styles.

The Train

After a short time, the doors hiss open again. Those from the train may encourage those on the platform to board. It’s not like there's anywhere else to go and even if there was, you feel a pull. A need to board, a feeling that staying on the platform would lead to something terrible. If that is not enough, there are plenty of people on the platform now, to encourage them onto the train.

Each ICP shows the same message and next to the screens there are stacks of leaflets written by those on the train, with further information (see
'Publications'). The store rooms have been restocked with fresh ingredients, including several crates of avocados, the ingredient of the month of Jelly, as well as all sundries.

For passengers that have bought items, these are also scattered around the luggage carriage in various suitcases and bags.

New passengers will find their ticket allows them into their cabins. They may need to negotiate for beds, especially if they want a top bunk!

Room is tight but there are storage cubbies at the head of each bed, beds fold up and the bottom bunks double as benches for the small table. There is storage under those benches full of spare blankets and pillows.

Departure

A second horn sounds to encourage any stragglers braving the freezing fog, and the doors slide shut. Veteran passengers know what will happen next, but they may wish to brief their new companions.

The train sets off, the fog obscuring the view again as it picks up speed.

"Welcome aboard, passengers of the Voidtrecker Express." A female-coded artificial sounding voice echoes throughout the train. "Please take the time to read the passenger information displayed on the Information and Communication points and familiarise yourself with the layout and emergency exits."

The train begins to tilt, leaving the ground and rising up into the fog-filled sky.

"Entrance into Voidspace imminent. New passengers are advised to remain seated. Entry into Voidspace in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

A shudder, a jolt, a lurch to the left. A flash of light, colourful and blinding. As quick as it happens it is done. The train seems to steady itself. The fog from the windows is gone now, replaced with a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colours.

Welcome to the Void!

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Don't get rid of that, you don't get too many clothes on the train!

[Persephone is not dressed in any of the colors, instead in a long jade skirt and leather jacket. But she has an orange flower in her hair, the only nod to her team on her. Orange was not her color either.

The burning feet would be weird if she hadn't seen a man who had no head, only fire, walking around the train. As it is, she just watches him tug at the hoodie with vague amusement. Not often someone reacts to the mere presence of a color with that much ire. (Though if she'd been on the purple team...)]

No one gets to choose what their color is, sadly. I'd have picked blue or red myself. Less immediate clashing.[Pause] I'm going to guess by the burning boots I saw fly by that you can't turn those feet off?

[He's still inspecting the damage when Persephone begins speaking with him, and his tone is casual and friendly enough, despite the rough start to his life on the train that he's already had.]

Blue's really more of my Lord Uncle's color, or Lady Demeter's, or maybe... Theseus? Gods, I do not want to think about him right now.

Ha! Afraid not. I've had them pretty much since I was born. I've gotten better at controlling them with time, but they've been burning like they always have. Whoever decided to put me in this ridiculous getup should have seen those a mile away, right?

[And he looks up from his position on the ground to give his speaking companion a smile.]

[But then his eyes lock onto her fully, and his expression changes quickly into a look of confusion (the caress of the gentle mountain breeze rustling through golden stalks of grain), then alarm (the delicate aroma of orchard trees coming into bloom), then horror (the soothing buzz of pollenating insects and the satisfying snap of fresh produce being plucked from the vine) and then... fury.]

You're not her. You're not her, this is all wrong, you're-- how--

[How dare you, is what he wants to say. How dare you impersonate his Mother, after all he's been through to find her, after all he's fought and died for just to see Persephone again and again and again--]

[-- and then he finds his protests dying in his throat as he realizes his temper has flared at this poor woman who was just trying to help him. Despite his instinctive reaction to her godly aura being identical to Persephone's, he can't just go yelling at her, especially not when he sees her shrinking away from him.

Zagreus looks away from the pink deity, quickly, placing his head in his hands with his legs curling back up to his chest. He tries to catch the breath that he didn't know he was holding, and only after he's filled his lungs with a few deep breaths does he bother to speak again.]

Sorry, I-- I'm so sorry, miss, I... mistook you for someone else.

[And now all he wants is to wake up the Pool of Blood, back at the House of Hades, so he can begin his journey to see his Mother all over again. So that he can prove to himself that this is all just a dream, or a strange reaction he's had to an over-ripened pomegranate. Something to prove to him that this isn't real. That Mother isn't...]

[The fury that rises up, slow but sharp, the look in his eyes. It cuts, this casual talk turning to an anger she can't quite place but would remind her of her own, the one she rarely indulges. She flinches, she steps back, preparing to flee or at least call for help. Her mouth opens to call--for someone, Zetta or Thanatos, then--Then.

Oh. If Thanatos hadn't arrived two weeks earlier, would she have understood? Unlikely. He eased her into the idea, the mistaken identity was less intense, less personal. She wasn't Thanatos's mother in another form. She was his. She still remembered the name Thanatos had said over and over, in various times.

When it fades, when he curls over his knees and looks tired and defeated, she takes a step closer. She didn't want a kid, especially one that looked as old as her, if not older. But she was a part of this even if she never asked for it. Even if he never asked for it.]

You're Zagreus, aren't you? Thanatos told me...I--

[She crouches in front of him.] I'm Persephone, goddess of Spring. Not the Queen of the Underworld, not the wife of Hades, just myself. Not because I gave them up but because I am not any of them in my world.

[His ears prick up at the mention of his own name, tilting his head up only enough to see her with his one infernally red eye. It's still hard to feel such a familiar god presence in a completely unexpected form, but her soothing tone and gentle handling of him even after he was so rude to her keeps his attention. Even so, his red eye with its black sclera is still narrowed with suspicion.]

You're even using her name. Blood and darkness...!

[He sits up, drags his hands down his face, and after a moment drops them to hug his knees to his chest. It would be rude to stand up now, especially since this enchanting pink goddess is now crouched right in front of him. He gazes up at her with his odd eyes, expression as neutral as he can get for the moment, which is a weird mix between sad, annoyed, and increasingly curious.]

... all right. I'm listening. You say Than's been talking about me? What exactly has he said?

[There's another wince at the way he reacts to her name--but it's hers. It has been for nearly a year, it is who she is now. His eye catches her, narrowed, suspicious, dark and a little scary. She hesitates, breath catching, then flooding out in a nervous laugh]

Oh boy--where to start. Okay um--He told me that in his world, Persephone, a different me, married to Hades, had you, left. That I'm Queen--still weird, still not sure how I feel about it. [Oh no that probably comes off rude with how his mother left, stopped being queen. She bites her lip and settles back on her heels] What I mean is--he told me all of this because when I said my name he called me Queen Persephone. He asked how I'd changed, and then I had to explain that Thanatos looks--so different in my world. Gray all over, blue eyes, not at all like him. We're from different versions of the same reality, different versions of us. He's still god of Death but--different. Likes me way less than your Thanatos does for instance--AND I'm rambling, this is so hard.

I'm not your mother, but I am Persephone. I don't know if I'll one day be Queen of the Underworld or not or whether I might have been if I stayed home--because Hades is seeing a nymph at home, pretty serious I thought. Fatesbook official and all. So--I have to stop talking. You don't care about any of this, you just know I'm not your mother. [She clasps her face in her hands] This is so weird.

[He listens. And listens. And watches how she can't seem to sit still, how she rambles when she speaks. He's reminded of Dusa, and the way she stammers to get out her point while anxiously fluttering. How she gets flustered talking to him sometimes and just flies away when it gets too much. It's enough to quell his anxieties for now, keep him listening to her explanation, and... maybe he should stop mean-mugging her so much.]

Well Father never told her I was alive, so of course she left. I never met her, until recently. And even then, I can only speak to her for so long.

[Zagreus finds it odd that he hasn't started to feel ill. Usually by now he'd start feeling the pain in his chest. He puts that thought aside for now to focus on the Persephone in front of him - still so different and unnerving, but still so familiar as to keep him there.]

... huh. Than with blue eyes... it's hard to picture, since I'm so used to his eyes being golden. Well if he's anything like my Than, he'll come around. Than wasn't exactly friendly with me either, to begin with.

[The prince still finds it hard to hear a being with his Mother's godly aura telling him "I'm not your mother". It stings more than he thought, prickling in his chest like a poison slowly seeping through his veins. He clenches his fists instinctively, almost trying to will the feeling away.]

You're right, you're not. I shouldn't have overreacted. It's just-- I've gone through so much to see her, and before I escaped last time she said she never wanted to see me again--

[He thinks that's smoothed over, at least. She seemed happy to see him this last time, before he was taken by the Styx. It may seem like a small blessing, but it is enough, for now.]

... you say the Fates have ordained you and Fa- you and Hades to be apart? But why? What did you do to anger them?

['She never wanted to see me again'. It gets another wince out of her as she takes in his reply. She's about to apologize, about to try to smooth things over, because she knows how hard it would be to see her mother and get told she doesn't exist and Demeter isn't her mother.

But the last bit--Persephone sputters]

I don't know that we are ordained to be together! And the fates don't care about me, one way or another, or why would I be here? Not on their plan, I bet. [The flush on her cheeks, the set of her hands, she's wavering between angry, upset, and embarrassed. She glances over her shoulder at the rest of the platform]

I just know that when I left, Hades was committed to another relationship, one that started long before he met me. And he barely knows me or me him.

[Pause] ... But that's not the big deal right now. You know how weird it is to discuss this relationship with you of all people, right?

[Getting her all flustered finally gets Zagreus to crack a bit of a smile. Despite the bizarre situation they both find themselves in, he feels himself warming up to her in a weird sort of way.]

Come on, you know better than most the Fates have their hand in everything. It may not seem like it at first, or it may not make sense to us at the time, but it does later, in hindsight.

[A selfish part of him wants to exist in this Persephone's world. And how can he do that if Persephone and Hades aren't together? As much as his Hades, well... sucks, he's clearly still pining for his Queen. With a huff, Zagreus leans back, pressing his hands to the smooth surface of the platform, and gazing up into the mist above, his knees still tucked up so his feet don't get too close to any of Persephone's cute clothes.]

Look, if your Hades is anything like my Father - and I really, really hope he's not in most aspects - he's still madly in love with you. Or he's going to be madly in love with you, either way. He may not be able to say it to your face because he's, well, him, but I know he does. [His fingertips dig into the smooth, flat surface beneath him.] He's got to.

[And then he gazes back at Persephone with his mismatched eyes.] Well you keep bringing him up, so... it seems to me you want to talk about this with someone. But you're right, I'm probably not the best person to talk to about this.

You started it. [It's a rather loud mumble. Persephone can't stop the flush on her cheeks, less annoyed, more embarrassed, flustered. All the feelings hearing about her marriage to Hades brought up--they were dealt with! Left at the beginning of this month, left to be discarded and locked in a box never to be seen again. And here he comes with 'He's going to be madly in love with you'.

And--she wants to ask. She wants to ask what his Hades is like, what happened, what's going on here and why he would never tell the wife he apparently loved so much that her son was alive. Why he wouldn't tell her if he loved her? She can't imagine Hades holding back so tight. He knelt before her when she confessed some feelings for him, held her hand in his own when she told him they needed to back off this something they had. He's not one to keep things to himself, to not be obvious in word and deed how he feels. Nor would he let her run off without telling her, even if it was in the depths of grief.

She sighs] For what it's worth, I don't think he's anything like your Hades.

But, moving on. Actually I'm not really sure what to move on to. This was all the hard part. I could show you around. Or if this is too weird, I can just go. We can arrange some joint custody friendship with Thanatos, go halfsies on who gets to drag him out of his quiet room. You are his friend right? I got the impression you were his friend. In so much as he lets himself have friends. He wouldn't even let me give him a hug at first.

You were the one who said his name first, but I get you don't want to talk about this, especially with me. I'm probably the person you least want to see right now, especially after I snapped at you like that.

[There's a tension in his shoulders that dissipates when she mentions her Hades not being anything like his.] Good. Then perhaps he can actually admit when he was wrong, and apologize to you. [He wants to say more, so much more, but... well, this Persephone shouldn't have to bear the burdensome weight of his father's relationship with him. Even his own mother probably shouldn't, as much as they end up talking about him during their little chats.]

Sure, you can show me around. [He shuffles backwards just enough to stand up, hauling his huge sword and the bag he's been given with him.] By any chance do you have enough cloth to make a chiton from? Nothing fancy, I just... don't think this is going to work. [He glances back down at his charred clothes, or what's left of them.] Whoever put me in this clearly didn't pay attention.

[Persephone bites back her frustration. Sure, she mentioned him first, but only because she knew what Hades was to him, to this other her. And to have it thrown back, to be told of course he's in love with her, loves her deeply, she'll marry him, of course. She's so sick of being told what and who she'll be, do, want. The frustration builds for a moment--

Then he acts like a burden on her, the last thing she'd want to see, and the frustration melts to guilt, distress. Gods. She's acting selfish. Mad over things he can't possible predict, understand, know about. She stands, brushing her skirt of the dust of the platform. No, she's not getting roped back into talking about Hades, no matter how curious she is. She pulls up a smile, trying for sincere and ending up somewhere around social.]

It's understandable, you thought I was impersonating someone you care about. [She taps her chin and winces] If you don't mind white, I can throw some spare sheets at you. Not going to be your aesthetic probably. I know how cthonic beings are. If it's any consolation, everyone gets put in those, regardless of your preference or practicality. C'mon, we'll raid the laundry. [She gestures back to the train.]

[Zagreus can tell he's angered Persephone somehow, but he's not sure exactly what did it. Either way, having her upset with him at all makes him instinctively tense again, taking a quick breath so he can spill apologies at her feet, try to make up for his foolish mistake-- no. No, this is Persephone, but she is not his mother. He has to keep that in mind.

He closes his eyes for a second, releases his breath completely, as Master Achilles once taught. Focus on the present, lad. That's it. When he opens his mismatched eyes again, he's back to himself, for the most part, and he can work with the social atmosphere Persephone's created. He smiles politely, listening to her explanation.]

Well, white is usually reserved for the Olympians from my experience, but - what the hell, let's pretend I'm an Olympian for a bit. I'm sure Lord Cousin Hermes would have a laugh at that. Red's usually more my color, though maybe I won't look so pale in white as I do in red.

You're descended from the six traitors on both sides, what's more Olympian than that?

[There's amusement in her voice. Of course, who wants to be an Olympian? Not her. Not chained to that one deity, no, certainly not. Not like that. She leads the way into the car, pausing at the stairs up to the laundry. She turns back for a second, suddenly looking him up and down] It's still weird, how different this all is. He didn't tell me what you looked like and I guess I just made up some idea in my head. Of what you might look like. I never actual expected to meet you.

[Pause. Oh that probably came out nowhere] What I mean to say is Hades and the Underworld tend to shades of blue. I guess I pictured you blue or at least with an affinity to that color. Not red.

Sure, I may be related to multiple Olympians, but I can't stay alive on the surface for more than... I don't know, minutes? Hours? I'm not sure how one measures time, but it's definitely not a mortal lifetime's worth. Definitely not Olympian material if I can't even make it to Mount Olympus.

[Zagreus gives her a quizzical looks when Persephone begins appraising him, and he freezes, almost as if he's done something wrong and he knows he's about to be caught.] So... what did you think I looked like? Hopefully just as handsome as I actually am, give or take a few oddly-colored eyes and feet that are constantly aflame.

... is that why I was put in blue? [He looks back down at his charred clothing with a frown.] I suppose I am a shade of blue in the sense that I share my Father's complexion of death, but no, red is typically associated with the House of Hades. It's the only color my Father ever wears, and it's the color of the River Styx, and of blood I suppose.

The only person who wears blue in the House is Meg, and it kind of fits her whole color scheme she's got going on. Blue is typically reserved for the blowhards and glory hounds that spend their eternities battling in Elysium. And Meg, but that's not to imply she's a blowhard or-- argh, you know what I mean.

[The first part of what he says is strange and she almost asks. But--color themes.]

I guess like you look but--inverted? Blue skin, pale blue hair--I don't know why I just kind of thought you'd look like him. [She tucks back a strand of hair self consciously] The Underworld is blue, shades of it, but no, you're not blue for that. It's just a silly team thing. I'm orange. A shade that stands out like a sore thumb on my skin.

[Now she feels a little silly for bringing it up. She latches onto that last bit]But yeah, I know, Meg is a sweetheart. But I think I would have put her in purple, not blue. Probably just more world differences.

Orange, huh? When I think of Orange, I think of Lord Cousin Hermes - he's got this whole scarf thing going on. Wish I could tell him about all this, I'm sure he'd get a kick out of it.

Well Purple seems more like, I don't know, Dionysus? I know Nyx and Than accent their stuff with purple-

[And his brain just now caught up with Persephone's comment.]

... Meg. She's what? Wait wait wait. You mean Megaera the Fury?

[She will just have to accept that their color themes are going to be way off. Just destroyed, Hermes in an orange scarf, Hades in red, Thanatos in purple. Probably should just throw them all out the window.]

Megaera the fury, yes! Her job doesn't mean she can't be adorable and a sweetheart. I mean--[She almost says 'look at me' but stops herself. She still hasn't admitted her act of wrath to anyone besides Nita and Zetta and tarnishing his image of her--not something she's ready to face on first meeting]

I mean, she lent me her outfit to wear into the mortal realm since we're similar sizes. And she has the prettiest snake hair. Ahh--I don't really know if you're supposed to call it hair, but you know, snakes on her head. [Persephone gestures around her head] Judging a person by their job is rude, I hate it when people do it to me.

... you sure you're not talking about Dusa? Dusa's the gorgon who has a job as the House of Hades maid. She's really a sweetheart, it's true, and I care about her a lot. She's the one with the snakes for her hair. Although she doesn't have a body so she wouldn't exactly have an outfit to give you, I wouldn't think. Meg is...

[Whoof. How to describe Meg. ~~Other than stunningly beautiful and simultaneously terrifying~~]

... Meg is tall, taller than me, blue skin, long straight blue hair tied back into a high ponytail. She's got one big bat wing that's a really vivid pink, that matches the lipstick she's always wearing. Oh, and it matches her whip that she uses. And she's extremely intimidating, but in a... good way? That's the Meg I know.

No no, all the Furies have snake hair and wings!

[Persephone shakes her head, gesturing] Meg has the shortest snakes and she's shades of purple and lavender, Alecto is yellow all over, well, with some markings on her snakes and Tisiphone is this gorgeous charcoal with bright pinky red accents. Really beautiful, though I think I'd want to cross Alecto least, I think she's the one most in charge?

[She pauses] I don't know why I'm arguing, I know everyone looks super different in your world. But regardless, she's...nothing like what you described. A different sort of beautiful.

I will believe it when I see it. [Because holy shit all of this is so weirdly wrong in a fascinating way. Meg is blue and pink! Alecto is red and green! Tisiphone is green and purple! And none of them have cute, Dusa-like snakes for hair!]

If Alecto is anything like the Alecto in my world, you definitely want to cross her the least. While Tisiphone is the Fury that punishes murderers and Megaera is the Fury that punishes oathbreakers, Alecto punishes pretty much everyone else. And she really, really loves her job.

I would not want to cross any of them, that is probably the most universal thing in reality. They're professional punishers of misdeeds.

[Persephone smiles, a thin slightly awkward smile] I will take your word for it on their temperament, but everyone knows Alecto is basically the boss of them.

[She swiftly changes the subject with a gesture to follow as she heads up a small staircase to the laundry] Chiton incoming, hopefully. If someone left a set of sheets up here.

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A New Platform [Intro Post February]

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