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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't not have things to do, that's for sure."

Just not the grand things he's probably imagining. More down to earth, more day to day. But she gets the point.

"Depends on the job, mostly. This last one was not to my skillset, might have been to yours. A lot of fixing water pipes for my sector and wrangling little robots for everyone. Ask me to gather crystals from flowers like I did a few worlds ago, perfect, easy, I can do that. Fix leaky pipes, not so much. But I guess if you get all types of people, you get people who can fill in for all types of work and teach what they know."

"Crystals? What kinda crystals?"

Okay, Yondu may not have a clan anymore. He may not have a ship, a first mate, or even his uniform at the moment. But in his heart of hearts he's still a Ravager, and it's just now occurring to him that maybe at some point he find something real nice for himself.

"My skill set is piloting, technical, bein' a fashion model, that kinda stuff." He motions over his scarred-up face as he says it and finally chuckles. He'll happily poke fun at himself, thanks.

"The small kind. I still have some crystal flowers I snuck off the planet, off in the greenhouse."

She's a plant thief. Which is to say, there's more than just one sort of non Earth plant in her collection and she's not exactly the only one.

"Well all of those skills will certainly come in handy," She grins at his joke, "Especially the fashion model part. We've been needing one of those for ages."

He will have to go have another look at the greenhouse later, because now he's curious.

"Yeah, I thought so. Not enough picturesque folks on this train."

Yondu is old. He is not Dead. Okay, he is dead, but he's not so dead as to not notice that there is definitely some model pretty people on board this thing. You've got actual goddesses roaming around.

"Obviously. Always need more." She crooks a smile.

"You're honestly taking this a lot better than most beings do. You get a lot of freaking out on platform days. For good reason!" She hurries to add, "Just means half the day is always trying to help people situate themselves, get used to it...Our next mission probably won't be for like three more weeks--which is kind of good and bad, I guess? We don't really get off of her much outside missions, just maybe a day trip or two, but missions are always an adjustment."

"To be honest I had a hell of a day before I even ended up on the train. By the time that happened I dunno... I was just done. You ever get to that point? Where you just felt like you're all drained out.

"Pretty lady, I am about runnin' on empty at this point. I can muster up one single shit to give and that's for the kids wanderin' around here. Otherwise I'm just-"

He blows out his lips like a horse, that exaggerated deflating sound, the noise of a man who saw too much.

Her half smile turns to something more sympathetic, her eyes up and wide, the corners of her mouth downturned. Gods, has she had days like that. Some of them here on this very train.

"No--no I get it. I've definitely felt that way before. It's enough to care about one thing, everything else can go kick rocks. You deal with it however you need to." She taps her hands on the table, "Do you want to talk about it?"

There's one thing about bitchin' about how damn weird a day was. Talking to a little ass tree about hats making heads look deformed in the middle of a prison break, that kinda thing. But there's another about talking about the feelings related to that day, and saying he's wore out by it is about the best he can manage, he thinks.

"Nah, wouldn't change nothin' I figure. But it does make me pissed this train don't have beer. Or else I'm gonna have to pay extra for it."

"You definitely will have to pay extra for it. And I'm not sure they give you enough points for a single one to start. You get three, I think? But--I don't know how much one costs. I'm not a drinker."

You get pranked into waking up somewhere weird one time and you get a little weird about drinking.

"But you could check?"

"Most of the beer I bought back home was worse than the coffee," he chuckles, though his cup is now cooling. Which likely won't help him much.

"I'll get by. It's more the idea of just bein' able to sit back and actually relax with stuff that ain't a raccoon touching my head."

He's absolutely getting a strong bottle of alcohol at some point, though. Closest thing to self-care he can manage.

Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask. Okay no, she has to ask.

"...A raccoon touching your head? Get lost in a forest before you got here?"

Well... yeah, but that's not the correct answer to that particular situation. So he doesn't confirm.

Instead he taps his fin.

"Needed an emergency repair job and the only thing available was a hyper-intelligent raccoon experimented on by scientists. At least that's the story that got ran by me. Don't figure a hyper-intelligent raccoon would have much reason to lie."

"I..."

She blinks. She blinks a lot. Look, if he said a talking racoon had been the one touching his head, sure, she's run into talking animals on this train. No problem. It's the specificity of the story, the weird details.

"A hyper intelligent racoon experimented on by scientists. I--why was he experimented on by scientists?"

"I dunno. Somethin' scientists do I guess? Some animals get shampooed and some of 'em get weird enhancements. Hell, the Kree would experiment on other species of people. Scientists can either be real helpful or complete assholes."

He makes a dismissive gesture, like that's just how they do.

"He'd been smart for a while though and knew what he was doin'. Wierd as hell, though."

Well that sounds horrifying. Of course--of course they experimented on other species. Isn't that just like beings to see others as lesser. But--not to think about. She files the whole idea that under 'don't want to know' and moves on.

"Wouldn't you be weird if a bunch of scientists scooped you up and experimented on you?"

He huffs a soft laugh and taps the fin. "I'm already there. Well... wasn't really an experiment. They knew what it did. It just wasn't somethin' I asked for."

Then he snorts a little. "Mine now, though. Figure it's the same with the raccoon."

Oh well now it feels rude to stare up at it, knowing it was something forced on him. The look up at it is furtive, but--It's his now. Asking if it does something doesn't seem polite. She really wishes she had a cup of something to fiddle with.

"Well if it's yours then it's yours." She sits back, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"Can't let them get you down right?"

"Yeah... I mean, it really is mine. You don't gotta look off about it." He notices the expression change, giving her some reassurance.

"They didn't get away with it, they been losin' their wars and messin' up left and right. And the Raccoon's story ends with him findin' a family so I guess most of it turned out."

Finding family. She smiles, soft and a little unsure. Making your own family is just as important as the one you were born with.

"I guess that's the important thing. Whatever else, there's family."

He wishes he could fully agree with that. He'd been pretty easy to throw away for the full of his life that putting his head in another place is a rough thought. Nearly impossible. But he did have Quill at the end. And as bad as that moment was, it seemed like Peter wanted to hold on.

"Sounds like you got some decent ones, why don't you tell me about them?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A New Platform [Intro Post February]

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