voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post September]

A New Platform [Intro Post September]

On the Train

"Good morning Voidtreckers, it is day one of the month of Nebula. Points have been updated on the system."

With points updated, everyone can spend the morning shopping. Most people will 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 doors open. As usual, those who leave first notice nothing, walking silently, rucksacks on their backs, towards the barriers. A-Qing, Atem, Beauregard Lionett, Casper LeBlanc Jr, Donatello Versus, Frankie Bacon, Ichiban Kasuga, Kumoko, Lena Sabrewing, Mami Tomoe, Mono, Peter Parker, Reno, Shi Qingxuan, Tobari, Wen Ning; all pass across the platform, not looking back. And then they're gone, disappeared 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 find themselves on a platform. The platform is open to a bright blue sky, speckled with a couple of clouds. It's very warm, enough that they will not want to stay in those hoodies for long. Behind them through the fogs is a set of barriers, set in a brick wall and in front of them is a single set of tracks extending both ways into that same 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 on the foggy, blistering hot platform; then the fog begins to fade and they realise they aren’t alone.

The platform isn't large, but it is enough to hold the figures scattered around, all facing the tracks, all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies. 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 pours a strange assortment of people, over a hundred at least. 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.

Behind them, the doors close, and the train is cloaked in the same fog that hides the world beyond the platform.

The Train

After a short time, perhaps ten minutes or so, the fog clears and 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'). They will also find a bunch of posters around the train and might notice the new clock in the standard coach.

The store rooms have been restocked with fresh ingredients, the ingredient this month is a strange meat, yaddon tail.

For passengers that have bought items, these are also scattered around the luggage carriage in various suitcases and bags. There is a box labelled for purple team containing a stick of rock for each member of purple team, including those who are new. Join in your teams success!

New passengers will find their ticket allows them into their cabins. In most rooms, the occupied beds are obvious, leaving the spotless, empty spaces for the newcomers. 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 taking advantage of the fresh air, 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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These days are always the hardest because, no matter what, someone that somebody knows always leaves on the platform. Lan Sizhui knows he's been quite lucky most times too, but watching both Wen Ning and A-Qing disappear this time hits him like a breath-stealing punch to the gut; it's why he doesn't resist taking as many pictures as possible with his and A-Qing's polaroid, capturing memories before they're long gone, vanishing behind the barrier.

Xixue sits at his feet, making soft, melancholic wails after her owner who keeps right on going like she's not even fazed. The camera gets tucked away into his qiankun bag, he briskly rubs his hoodie sleeves over his eyes, sniffles then moves to scoop the vulpix up right as it's considering chasing its owner. “No, no, you can't go with.” Though he's sure she wants to.

He heel-turns, pausing mid-step at the sight of Jiang Cheng stalking off, brow knitting, lips pinching and his arms gently squeezing Xixue's middle while her little paws rest over his forearms. “Ah, Jiang-zongzhu, wait up!” Does he want company? Probably not but here comes Lan Sizhui anyway who's already misty-eyed again, regardless of cleaning himself up earlier. “Wh...where are you going? Can I—” he pauses, clears his throat, takes a deep breath and corrects, “May I come with you?” Because company sounds great right about now, disregarding the brief spark of lightning that'd caught his eye.

Jiang Cheng might not be aware of a lot of things going on with Lan Wangji's child (and he doesn't want to think about how easily he recognises him from so many years ago, now that he knows that name, now that he knows the link between Sizhui and his brother) but he's sure he and the girl leaving were close. That's enough to soften some of the edge of him, nodding his head as he twists, motioning with a sleeve.

There's no need to be mean or cruel to a young boy, someone near enough the same age as his nephew. Not even he possesses that level of hatred, that level of unkindness. He has some decency left inside of him.

"As you like," he says finally, nodding his head. He can see Xixue as well, the little fox that he recognises, and his heart aches just a little. Stepping back to make room for Sizhui, he nods his head. "I was going to go to the garden and look at the lotus."

Blessed immortals, he could almost start crying again but with relief this time rather than sadness, though Sizhui simply tightens his arms around Xixue in a gentle squeeze then quickens his pace enough to fall into step beside the sect leader. Seeing Jiang Cheng actually soften, however, is enough to make the boy's posture slacken significantly once they are moving with direction.

Perhaps some people may think the fearsome Sandu Shengshou has no soul, that his heart is made of stone, he couldn't offer comfort in any real sense—

Yet Lan Sizhui knows better since, as much grief as they give him as juniors, he is still a (somewhat) trusted senior. ‘Somewhat’ simply because he's doing his best to not make huge assumptions about people and relationships are big deals.

What he doesn't mind assuming is taking Jiang Cheng's noticing of Xixue as interest. “Thank you,” he murmurs appreciatively, adjusting the little fox in his arms so she can be close enough to nudge her nose against the man's elbow and softly yip up at him. “That sounds like a good idea. Somewhere quiet, with nice things to look at.”

Jiang Cheng had been fond of a-Qing; he had liked her well enough, had wanted to make sure that she had something good in her future. He didn't know a great deal about her past, but he had been able to make some assumptions about it. The life of people around cultivators is often not as easy as it might be otherwise, and with all the horrors that have happened in their world...

It makes it easier for him to understand why Sizhui might be a little more than discontent about what he is experiencing right now. He can only imagine that, tied with the loss of Wen Ning, must be a difficult burden to bear.

Walking forward, Jiang Cheng tries not to let on just how his heart melts when the fox leans towards him.

"I didn't know there was a lotus there until recently," he admits, just to make conversation. "Zewu-jun was the one to show me as we were having tea."

A-Qing had made many friends aboard the train, it's no surprise she ~~bullied~~ befriended Jiang Cheng as well, and it isn't a bad assumption at all to consider that something terrible might've happened back home. Unfortunately, Lan Sizhui's well-aware of what happens to her there, which is an awful event he'll gladly keep quiet about rather than bring up whenever there's already so much despair.

Besides, in company with Xixue and now Sect Leader Jiang, at least it feels like some of the weight on his chest has lessened? Although yes, it's a double gut-punch alongside losing his uncle too; he can find some relief knowing Wen Ning is alive in their homeworld.

“It's relatively new, I do believe.” Hadn't been there when he'd first arrived if he's remembering correctly, so seems safe guessing someone either purchased seeds with points, got them randomly from the train's packets, or got their hands on some off-world during a mission. More than enough speculations, except Sizhui's latching onto the mention of his other uncle(s) for further engagement. “The younger or older one?” They're both his senior either way, he's just curious who was having tea with Jiang Cheng while checking out the lotus.

That makes him feel a little better about the whole lotus situation; the idea that he had been completely unaware of it the entire time he had been here didn't sit well with him at all, so knowing it might be more recent does settle some of the strange feelings in his stomach. Jiang Cheng is desperate for those connections with home, whatever he can reach out and take, so to feel as though he has been completely ignorant...

Moving forward, he tries not to let on just how his step falters for a moment as he thinks of which Lan Xichen it had been to guide him. The kind one who had mended his wounds and offered him kindness (while suffering from such deep pain that it felt like sour fruit on his tongue) or the one who's name he had used so casually while under the influence of a mission (too young to do anything differently).

His nose wrinkles instead.

"The older one." He's starting to get better at learning the differences now, even if it is just a matter of 'this one gives off more hurt than the other'. It's something he must keep an eye on while trying to reign in his own feelings. "I think, at least. I'm still adjusting."

Good, because there's no sense in feeling bad or dwelling on something he had no idea about. Also hey, now he is aware of it, so he can visit them whenever he likes to reminisce, admire and perhaps even take one for himself if he likes; they have seeds now, they can plant more at any time as long as people are dedicated to taking care of them.

Sizhui keeps step with him either way, upturning his attention from the fox to Jiang Cheng after that moment of hesitation. It's fine, he still has to take a few seconds to remember at first, yet everything clicks into place once he remembers some small details here and there. Watching Jiang Cheng's expression furrow makes his own shift into concern, worry that he's overstepped a boundary by asking, even though he's almost certain what he'd asked was benign enough. Before he can linger too long, the man finally speaks, urging Sizhui to exhale a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding.

“That's alright, I am too.” Older Zewu-jun then, the one who's now his roommate... who he'll now have the ability to possibly see every day. To be fair, in Sizhui's honest opinion, they don't look completely similar either and that helps a whole lot alongside the age thing.

“Regardless, I'm glad someone introduced you to them anyhow. They really are quite relaxing to be around.”

The problem is that Jiang Cheng really can tell the difference between the two Lans now, given their emotional state; one is more miserable than the other, more hurt, aching deep inside, and Jiang Cheng can sense that on the edge of his mind. He can almost taste it on his tongue, with a bitterness that aches inside of him, and he doesn't know how to rationalise it.

He doesn't know how to make it better, and he doesn't know if it's even his job. What right does he have to give word of advice to someone like Zewu-jun, after all?

It might surprise people how much Jiang Cheng can think before he speaks, at least when he is not overwhelmed by the fact that he is feeling almost too many things. In a moment like this he is able to be more level-headed than he might first seem.

"Do you think so?" It must be the case, with Lan Sizhui seeing them as uncle and not just Sect Leader. "I remember when I first came to Cloud Recesses to study. I didn't find it relaxing then."

Ah, yes, he has that convenient(?) little empathy ability now which probably helps him distinguish between them. If Sizhui knew that was the case, he'd choose his empathic healing over it any day, to be honest, and would offer condolences because he can't even imagine how it feels being in Jiang Cheng's shoes. Physical pain somehow feels less awful than emotional from that standpoint, frankly.

And there's nothing wrong with Jiang Cheng trying to help as a friend, something Sizhui's sure Lan Xichen could always use more of!

Also being truthful, it wouldn't surprise him at all that the sect leader simply needs some time to think before speaking. It seems like something many people need, himself included, so he'd be hypocritical to judge Jiang Cheng for it when he's always needed a moment or two to consider options rather than do like Lan Jingyi and let his mouth get away from him. Difficult in those diplomatic moments, but this is obviously why they have Sizhui around to handle such things more tactfully.

His eyebrows are arching with contemplation right now, actually, as he's realizing he should've specified he'd meant the lotuses and not either Zewu-jun, yet he isn't correcting himself. Instead, he tilts his head, unable to help half-smiling when he asks, “Why not? Surely the stress of studying didn't help much with relaxing... but was it something particular that made you feel anxious?”

Mustering up the strength to smother his own feelings is a trial on its own, and hearing the question from the younger man doesn't help him much; he has many memories of his time studying with the Lans and the only thing that hovers around his thoughts are the pressure he had felt, mixed up with the uncertainty. He had never felt entirely comfortable around anyone but his friends and knowing that the weight of expectation was pressing down hard from his mother and father had made it almost impossible to enjoy being somewhere so beautiful.

The last thing he wants, however, is for Sizhui to pick up on any of those feelings, and he has to take a moment to concentrate on smothering them, just in case. His empathy powers aren't necessarily as strong as they had been on that mission, but they're developing at a relative pace. It's the same feeling as quieting Zidian, muffling the anger and the hurt that makes it spark, so at least he has that experience to guide him.

He's a Sect Leader, after all. He has some manner of being to preserve, some level of fear and respect he ought to command in front of others, no matter what relationship he might have with them. It's on the tip of his tongue, to raise that issue, to ask what the boy's thoughts on it are, but he bites it back. Not now, when one uncle had just left and another is in no position to take his place.

"Nothing in particular," he says finally, "other than trying to study with Wei Wuxian and Sect Leader Nie being constant bothers." Smuggling in birds and using stupid paper men during their lessons. "And I was never able to properly offer the Jiang Sect gifts due to the Wen students arriving."

Perhaps he's too late and cannot retract his already voiced question, but how lucky for Jiang Cheng, he doesn't feel anything radiating off of him either. Having lived in Cloud Recesses for as long as he did, it's not surprising he wouldn't quite understand being uncomfortable in that sense, whereas he'd completely, one-hundred-percent understand feeling pressured; being Hanguang-jun's son is big shoes to fill, there's no doubting that.

Although, this doesn't mean Sizhui isn't observant enough to pick up cues on his own. If he notices anything particular, he keeps it to himself, offering the faintest head-tilt toward Jiang Cheng's abrupt moment of silence.

Brief as it is, an answer does eventually come and Sizhui nods, straightening his posture out of instinct whenever they arrive at their destination. He politely waits until Jiang Cheng has entered first, noting there's something else but again not mentioning it, though he does file this away for possibly asking about later as he follows his senior inside. While Wen Ning may have left and he's irreplaceable, there's nothing stopping Jiang Cheng from still filling his own role as Lan Sizhui's uncle too. He's a good man who's treated Jin Ling – and surely A-Qing! – well, taught them many things, maybe shared experiences of his own. Where's the harm in having another nephew, especially one who is also Wei Wuxian's?

“Nie-zongzhu and Wei-qianbei, they were...friends...?” It's not so much surprise, he's more questioning if that's the proper word for it. To be honest, he could understand them becoming friends, which means he can assume what sort of trouble came along with that and he very well might have smiled had the sect leader not mentioned ‘Wen students.’ Brow knitted, his mouth opens, closes again, he hesitates then shuts his eyes and finally, softly inquires, “What did their arrival have to do with that?”

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A New Platform [Intro Post September]

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