voidtreckermods: (voidtrain)
VoidTrecker Express Mods ([personal profile] voidtreckermods) wrote in [community profile] voidtreckerexpress2021-02-01 06:00 am

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!
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-07 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
She sighs through her nose. "Why? Why should I have to cover myself? If others wish to do so they are free to wear whatever they want, but I do not, and I have not even chosen to come share in these customs. I'm simply here."

It's not even nice fabric.
worthallthis: (doubtful)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-08 02:35 am (UTC)(link)
"Sometimes people are weird about being covered up," Soldat says apologetically. "And there are missions. Times when we go out into other worlds and help them. It would be dangerous to go without clothes, then. No protection from temperature changes, hostile elements, or the environment."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-08 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
"Cold I have little experience with, and you may share truth on that point," she admits. "But here, must I?" She gestures around them, giving another sigh, more despairing. "This is safe enough, and a comfortable temperature. How am I meant to live here constantly suffocated under cloth?"

Because it is suffocating, thank you.
worthallthis: (eyeroll)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-08 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
Soldat shrugs at her, holding the door into the next car down the line, which happens to be the gym car: largely open, with wooden floors, variable goal items, and cupboards of game balls. "I'm not going to argue with you about it, Merwen. If you want to keep going on not wearing clothes, I'll let you handle everyone else's reaction. But you should still let me have the ones they gave you to alter. So you'll at least have something for missions."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-08 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
"Thank you," she says, her voice softer. "I don't mean to share anger with you. You are being very kind, and my frustration is not for you. I know better than this. "

The gym is... Distracting, though. Rooms after rooms, none like anything she's seen before. She leans down to touch the wooden floor. Not living wood, no, and finished in an unfamiliar way, but it's still a little familiar.

"What is this room for?" she asks.
worthallthis: (Default)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-09 06:06 am (UTC)(link)
"For games, for fun and exercise. Putting balls through those goals while another team tries to stop you." They gesture at the basketball hoops and goal nets and things at either end of the room. "I don't know the point or the rules, though, so I can't really explain more than that."

There is one sport Bucky Barnes knew anything about, and it's not one you can play on a gym court, so they haven't gotten any memories back about it yet. Baseball remains as much a mystery as every other sport out there.
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-10 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
It's... kinder than she would have expected. It's kinder than she's experienced. But it also keeps them comfortable and cooperative. And she's seen that, before.

"I'd like to see this game," Merwen says. "Soldat... this other Merwen you knew, did she share much about her time as a Valan prisoner?"

It's an abrupt shift in topic, but it follows logically for her, and the idea that a stranger might know of something she hardly speaks about at all, to anyone, to her family, is a little worrying.
worthallthis: (distance)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-10 05:05 am (UTC)(link)
"Not unless she did it without making it clear what she was talking about," Soldat says, shaking their head, leading the way across the gym floor to the door in the other end of the car. The next one is the medical car, and they visibly brace themselves before entering, and walk down the center isle briskly, not looking at the doors to either side into surgery and exam rooms. Even the smell in here is terrible, but they can at least walk through it. They're not that badly off.

"She did call me and the others who looked more like me Valar, though." They have a thought they don't like much, and add, "I hope she didn't mean she saw us as captors."
theimpatientone: (saddened)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-12 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
She shakes her head. "You are like Valans, in your maleness, your skintone, your head plumage, your lack of webbing. That does not define your humanity. That doesn't even define whether someone can become a Sharer."

She watches them, recognises their discomfort at the medical car, knows what it is. She doesn't like it, either.

"This room is... unwelcoming," she observes, meaning to be gently sympathetic. "Let's not linger here."
worthallthis: (thinkingsad)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-12 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's the. Medical car," they explain. "If you get hurt or sick. This is where you would come. I just don't like it." But they do keep walking briskly, and are relieved to get to the other side and into the game car. This room is much more welcoming, with its tables and chairs and shelves of colorful game boxes. "About half the non-sleeper cars are for important things. The other half are for entertainment."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-13 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
"I dislike it as well."

As though any place so uncomfortable has any business being a place of healing. The game room is alien, as everything is alien, but it's at least comfortable and inviting.

"If I wish to go from room to room, it's necessary to go between all the rooms in between?" That seems so... very inefficient.
worthallthis: (Default)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-13 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
"All the cars are connected in a straight line," Soldat says apologetically. The next car might be more comfortable for her, as it's the garden car, with a domed, transparent ceiling letting in sun-like light, little streams, lots of plants, and meandering rock paths. "And you can't even really skip the bad ones. Because the kitchen and dining car are the other direction, at the very front of the train." And everybody's gotta eat.
Edited (got the greenhouse and garden cars mixed up) 2021-02-13 09:49 (UTC)
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-15 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
"What a strange way of arranging your living arrangements," Merwen says.

The garden is interesting. Stone in a garden. Stone, which she still thinks of as being unnatural, dead, worse than dead but never alive in the first place, set up with plants. It's a weird contrast, from her point of view, life and death placed side by side. She pauses to look at a plant, unfamiliar to her, though lovely enough.

"Are these food plants or decorative plants?" she asks.
worthallthis: (smilesad)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-15 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Wasn't my decision, believe me, I just live here," Soldat says wryly. "Haven't even been here all that long." They pause when she does, hands in their coat pockets, and explain, "Those are just for decoration, I think. There might be a few herbs here and there, but mostly the edible ones are in the next car."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-17 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
"I would choose to grow them together, not separately," Merwen muses. "Why not let the ornamental plants grow among the food, if they can? But I suppose I'll have to learn which is which, and that might share some help."

Oh, this is overwhelming.
worthallthis: (but i did it)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-17 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
"Your team is on laundry this month, so you don't have to worry about it yet," Soldat assures her. "And your teammates will be happy to help you with that."

Wait, they haven't explained teams. "There are four teams. Red, blue, purple--" They pluck at their dark violet coat. "--and orange." They nod at her, the clothes she'd arrived in, if she considered the color in her haste to get them off. "It's for splitting us up to do chores. And sending us where we'll do the most good on missions. Orange team does puzzles and solves problems. Not as much danger."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-19 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"What is laundry?" Merwen asks, baffled. "Of course I will share help, but with what?"

A nudist culture has entirely solved the problem of how annoying and stupid laundry is.
Solving problems and puzzles, though. That sounds like a good enough duty. It seems like the sensible duty. "And what does purple share? Or red and blue?"
worthallthis: (eyeroll)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-20 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
"Purple are the protectors." Like Soldat. Soldat is okay with being considered a protector. They open the door to the next car, the promised greenhouse car, full of flowers and fruiting plants of all kinds. There's color everywhere. "Red are the fighters. I'm. Not sure what blue is, actually."

And oh, well, they never actually used the word "laundry" with Merwen before, did they? Shit. "Laundry is cleaning clothes. I guess since you don't wear them, you never had to deal with that. Did you have coverings for your bed, maybe? You might have washed those."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-23 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh, yes. A whole word for the washing of cloth? I suppose if you cover yourself you must end up doing more of it."

She's more pensive about this than anything. Interesting the words different cultures come up with. "To share protection is human. But an entire group whose purpose here is to share violence?"

Ugh.
worthallthis: (smilegreen-sarge)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-23 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, I know." The smile they grace her with is probably more mistily fond than it should be for somebody who supposedly just met a gal. They remember so many conversations about violence and the evils thereof with her, though. It's like it's not Merwen unless she's complaining about the possibility of people fighting. "Sometimes there's no other option, though. Last mission we were up against. Fake things. Not people. Do you know what holograms are? Technological illusions? We weren't hurting people at all, just stopping machines that were trying to stop us from repairing the main systems. Mission before that was robots."
theimpatientone: (Default)

[personal profile] theimpatientone 2021-02-24 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
"Things that are not alive, then," Merwen clarifies. 'Hologram' is a new phrase but robots aren't. "Things that don't think that you must defend against."

She's cautious, but that's better. "Are you ever expected to hasten the death of people?"
worthallthis: (Default)

[personal profile] worthallthis 2021-02-24 08:41 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't know," they answer apologetically. "I've only been here a couple weeks, and the only other mission I've been told details about was the one where. It was an evacuation for some kind of natural disaster? So there was no fighting, there. I can ask around for you, though, if you want." Whatever will help make her more comfortable, Soldat is willing to do, here. She's not his Merwen, but she's still a familiar, friendly face, and he still kind of loves her.