A New Platform [Intro Post April]

[voidtreckermods]

On the Train

Once again passengers are awoken by the morning announcement.

"Good morning passengers, it is day Sixteen of the month of Kazoo. 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 after lunch. A lunch that may be a bit sparse: between the big eaters and the stress bakers, the stores have been stretched thin the last two weeks.

"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 steam is thin, with blue skies seen above. The sun shines brightly down, warm light pooling on the platform.

As usual the first to leave the train notice nothing as they walk silently, rucksacks on their backs, towards the barriers: Cassie Lang, Glorfindel, Jessie Custer, Olivia, Paddra Nsu-Yeul, S’reee, Thea Queen, Wei Wuxian.

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, open, with a vine-covered wall stretching high either side of the barrier. 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, and seems smaller with eighteen 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.

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 doors close behind them.

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 plenty more tomatoes.

For passengers that have bought items, these are also scattered around the luggage carriage in various suitcases and bags. There is a suitcase stocked with spare wash kit items, for those who are running low as well as a box labelled Do Not Use Yet that is full of small 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 who are making the most of the sunshine. 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!

Comments

[agathokakological]

It's early enough in the day that Crowley hasn't gotten much farther than his bedroom. He's still in the process on waking up over a hot cup of coffee in the dining car. Seeing Yondu perks him up slightly. particularly because he seems to be in good spirits.

"Ohhh, someone's expanded their closet." he hums as Yondu approaches.

[yondu]

He's in a much better mood than 'I just fought a planet and got a scalp touchin' from a raccoon', that's for sure. He sees Crowley and heads in his direction, grinning his big jagged shark grin.

"Yeah, finally got the rest of it back an' it was worth every damn point." And he got stuff to drink too, but he'll deal with that later.

"I met your angel, by the way. I caught him when he wasn't in a bowtie. At that weird little dress-up shindig. Nice fella."

[agathokakological]

"Never remember to spend mine." he muses, which is surprising really, considering the way he dresses, he looks fairly materialistic.

"Oh yes, what a sight." he replies fondly, the hint of a dreamy little smile on his face that he would likely deny existing if anyone called him out on it. The grin that forms after is a little more devious, "Right bastard when you get to know him."

[yondu]

He sees that lovesick look, but he's got enough pride and/or self-preservation that he doesn't bring it to light. But the lop-sided smirk that crosses his face pretty much gives away that, naw, he didn't miss that.

"Well, I won't say nothin' about you tellin' on 'im. Don't worry. But somebody can still be a bastard an' a nice fella. Seen it happen a few times."

He figures that Crowley has more of an ability to be self-sustaining and, hell, if Yondu could do the same he'd just throw the damn point system to the wind. Not that Yondu wanted a whole lot that was unnecessary. "I got this uniform and some alcohols. I figure they gave me the Terran sort which is fine, I reckon. Got somethin' that only comes from my planet... theoretically, anyway. Don't know if the train made it but normally it only comes from my homeworld."

[agathokakological]

Crowley chuckles at the reply, if there's anyone who has found the perfect balance between bastard and nice guy, it's Aziraphale... and Crowley loves him all the more for it.

"It's nothing I haven't said to his face." he waves it off, but his smile remains. "There's a treat. Alcohol is probably the best thing you can buy on this blessed thing."

Crowley shrugs in reference to the latter, "If I knew how this machine worked, I wouldn't be here. Who can say?"

[yondu]

"Actually I wanted to give ya a little bit of that other thing."

He reaches in his pocket, metal jangles strangely melodically, and he pulls out a strip of the alloy.

"This is yaka. It's the stuff my arrow is made out of. An' it's only formed on my homeworld. We call it the 'livin' metal' because it listens. It knows. Run the right energy into it, and gravity means nothin' to it."

He holds it out.

"Since y'all was searchin' for a place to go to but never made it, I figured I'd bring a li'l' bit of it to you. For makin' it easier on me when I first showed up."

[agathokakological]

Crowley's interest is piqued immediately, and the odd melodic sounds that come from whatever is inside the man's pocket has him looking curiously forward, his coffee abandoned to the side.

As the demon listens, his smile fades into a dull sort of astonishment, his lips slightly agape and eyebrows knitted above his glasses. It's failry clear that Crowley is experiencing an emotion. Hesitantly, he reaches out to accept the gift. It feels almost too important for him to have, but Yondu's deliver is so sincere. For another moment he's silent, holding tbe piece of metal in his hands and trying to find the right words. Crowley loves a good souvenir, something that's sentimental. He kept plenty of them back home.

"Nh-- mm. Thank you..." he finally stammers, touched, unsure of any other way to respond. Demons don't give gifts... this might take him a while to get used to.

[yondu]

Oh no, he broke the demon. That's his first thought. Are you not supposed to nice things for demons? Is he gonna make the nice/bastard boyfriend mad? 'Cause he don't wanna do that.

But then Crowley thanks him, and that feels a lot better. Yondu nods.

"I mean, glad you. You seem to make the most of your world. But uh... there you go." His turn to sound awkward about it. Before his dumbass brain finally rolls around to the response you're supposed to make when someone says 'Thank you', and that's-

"You're welcome."

[agathokakological]

After turning it over in his hands a few times, he palms it and draws it closer to him, his expression a lot softer than what's normal for him.

"That's... well, it's very meaningful." he says quietly, already feeling like he needs to return the gesture. He knows he's already given Yondu things, but it doesn't feel nearly the same.

[yondu]

The coat had genuinely made him happy, though. It had made his first month infinitely more tolerable than it would have been without it, and gave him something that he could use as armor. It had been a little thing, maybe not even that much effort for Crowley, but Yondu had clung to it like a lifeline.

"Hey, I know ya could probably make some of your own? But I got some whiskey an' rum an' vodka an' stuff." He gives Crowley's shoulder a friendly nudge. "It's nothin' fancy but if ya ever wanna drink an' watch or listen to somethin' you let me know. I have been gleanin' all kinds of bits of Terran culture from people. Might as well hang learn from somebody that's been around it for a long time, right?" He chuckles wryly.

He's raised a kid from there. He's around humans all the time. Pretty sure Crowley could get him some good stuff.

[agathokakological]

The change of subject does make Crowley perk up, and alcohol is a much easier subject for him to talk about than some sentimental piece of metal. He grins at the invitation, chuckling in a way that echoes Yondu's.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, "Could tell you anything you need to know... well, probably." he shrugs, "Should spend some of my own points on proper liquor, anyhow."

[yondu]

"Okay, now... Thisn's gonna be a weird question. But..." Yondu will admit this to Crowley.

"My boy saw me usin' my arrow in a particular way. Said I looked like Mary Poppins. Madoka told me a li'l' bit but what do you know about Mary Poppins?"

Since Crowley is an elite of Terran culture he should be able to sufficiently answer this, right?

[agathokakological]

Yondu has come to the right place, to Scary Poppins, herself, so to say. Crowley had practically studied the film before applying for a nannying gig, a position he would use to help raise the child he thought was the antichrist. Needless to say, when asked, he's practically beaming.

"Everything." he replies, "What do you want to know?"

[yondu]

Well, he didn't expect him to know that much. Yondu blinks once, trying to formulate a thought. Before he shrugs. "I asked 'im if she was cool and he said, 'Hell yeah'."

And a little part of him really wants Peter to actually think she was (he at least knows it's a 'she' now... though in Crowley's case that's entirely choice dependent). So suddenly he's a little invested.

"So anythin', really? They don't got the movie here."

[agathokakological]

"Very cool." Crowley agrees, smiling genuinely. "She's magic- she controls the wind, I think. Something like that. Anyway, she becomes nanny to a pair of children, and gets into all sorts of whimsical adventures that involve manipulation on her part of some sort. An icon, really."

Peter may or may not have been genuine, but Crowley in this moment is. He'd even mimicked her attire and her signature umbrella when he'd been Nanny Ashtoreth, a delightful homage with demonic undertones.

[yondu]

Okay, between Madoka and how genuinely Crowley seems to like her, he sort of accepts that, alright, maybe the likening wasn't so bad.

He's just going to assume that it's the whole 'magic' thing that does it. Even if he's not magic, people make the comment about his arrow often enough.

"How did the youngin's turn out?" Odd question but it's the dad in him that rears its head.

[agathokakological]

Crowley shrugs, "Mary Poppins fixes families, not children." he replies, "Things worked out in the end. It always does in Disney endings."

The demon frequented a cartoon theatre in London for Saturday morning viewings, often the only one there. He's likely watched more cartoons than any child would, which is maybe what makes it easy for him to communicate with children to begin with, he already speaks their language.

And then I caused myself an eyetwitch as I typed a tag.

[yondu]

Yondu's eyes dart suspiciously around the sleeper car and he quirks his mouth. "Ain't real sure what a 'Disney' is..." Should he know? Is he safer not knowing? Seems like it's happy ending sorta stuff so he'll take that.

Yondu's general ability to communicate with children is mostly successful (without a crew around ridiculing him for being soft) because he finds some patience that he normally doesn't have inside of him. The inclination to consider them threats that might kill him is considerably less. Not out of the real of possibility as he was a very threatening child himself. But less.

But he doesn't think he could ever repair a family.

"I don't even know how the family thing works, I'm gonna be honest. I raised a boy but I wasn't real good at it. Centaurians have 'tribes', like these big family groups an' I never got to know my folks' tribe. But I figured that I'd uh..." Well now that he's saying it out loud that he was trying to put one together for himself it sounds kind of pathetic, doesn't it? "Figured somethin' between a Ravager clan and a Centaurian tribe might suit me pretty good. So that's part of why I'm doin' the metal thing."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[agathokakological]

"Eh, doesn't matter." he waves his hand, that wasn't really the point in what he'd been trying to say anyway.

"A chosen family is still a family." he replies, tilting his head. Crowley suspects that Yondu was probably much better at raising a child than he gives himself credit for. The ones that think they're no good at it normally were, and the ones that thought they were the best parent in the world... well, they've talked about ego before, and those usually leave a lot to be desired.

"I'm very proud to be part of yours." he continues, clutching at the piece of metal with a smile.

[yondu]

Yondu gives Crowley's shoulder a friendly jostle.

"Thank ya. I'll get out of your way. Y'all prolly got a whole lotta train nothin' to do today."

Considering it's platform, and there's always a dozen new people wandering around. Train's building its crew a boxful at a time. But he should probably just start dealing with that 'cause there's gonna be all kinds of confused people going back and forth.