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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"It's not for everyone, I suppose. But it passes the time and doesn't really require any thought."

He turns more fully as the question is posed to him, and then gestures to his own glasses curiously, "Oh, these? Mm. No, I don't think so." he answers, not thinking too deeply about it. He's certainly done his share of staring into the void until he's felt sick and learned some hard lessons there, glasses or no.

"Hm, yes. I'll be studying it carefully." Though there seems to be some dissatisfaction about 'passing the time while not having to think'. That seems very wasteful.

As to the matter of sunglasses, well. That was probably the most expected response. Elidibus nods. He's hardly going to ask for an experiment, given the circumstances! But really the conversation has given him a few more moments to consider whether to continue to offer conversation. Finally, he does.

"Forgive me for not offering an introduction. I am Elidibus. I've been a passenger for a little over a moon now by this calendar's reckoning."

Crowley makes a face when he says the word study. For a moment, he's tempted to tell him that's not a thing anyone does, an abrupt noise leaving his throat like the beginning of a word that is immediately cut off when he decides better of it. Definitely not worth the headache.

The introduction helps solidify that theory, because from the way he talks it's very clear he's from a different sort of time or place. Crowley’s not even sure he himself has ever talked like that, even when those around him did.

"Crowley." he offers simply, hesitantly extending a hand to shake. It's a very Earth-human thing to do, but it carries over sometimes. "I've, um... lost track of how long I've been here."

While handshaking is not a common practice in the modern days of his world, Elidibus is old enough to have probably experienced it. At least, it feels familiar when Crowley reaches out a hand, though the demon is given a thoughtful regard before he stands and reaches out his hand.

He remembers suddenly why it does have a familiar feel and hesitates. But then gets over the moment, "Forgive me, this isn't a custom where I'm from. I should offer out my hand in kind, I take it?"

Though his fingers do flex momentarily as if he's having a time trying to decide whether a fist or a flat palm is the appropriate response here.

"Oh--" Crowley shakes his head. "You don't have to, but that's the idea."

This person is curious, Crowley thinks. He's met many people aboard the train and even those clearly from worlds other than his own have been easier to introduce himself to than this. Awkward.

"The trick is to clasp another's hand in yours and give it a firm shake." he explains, "It's a greeting. Happy to demonstrate, but we can forego it if you're uncomfortable."

There's a reason for his hesitation and moment's confusion. Recent history, rest assured.

"Ah yes, then." And Elidibus brushes aside the offer to forgo things by clasping Crowley's hand. "I recently met someone who did a similar gesture. But the expected response was very different."

One handclasp, one firm motion later and it's done; there isn't a hint of discomfort. Perhaps his 'ignorance' had been merely a cover for some reason or another. Strictly speaking, there's no lie in his actions. But they're not the whole truth, either. He never confirmed if he was or was not uncomfortable.

Crowley is satisfied to keep it brief, but wouldn't have been soured at all had the new acquaintance turned down the offer. After the handshake he returns his hand to his pocket to keep himself from fidgeting.

"Can't imagine what that might have entailed." he shrugs, "Anyway... well met. If you find that relaxing, maybe painting would be uo your alley?"

"Some type of fist clenched gesture, I gathered afterward," Elidibus responds dryly. "It seemed symbolic to the identity I'd assumed at the time." Which is like saying without saying that he'd probably made a mistake. Happens to the best, right?

The topic of painting as a possible line of art brings his attention back to the object that had started the discussion. "I'm not sure relaxing is the word I'd use for it. But you are right that something more advanced would probably suit my tastes." He will make use of the activity book if nothing more than research.

Folk have been by, offering various forms of insight and suggestions. So Elidibus has been giving it all some thought as he explored the coloring book. "I don't suppose you know anyone I can speak to about supplies for other types of art? I'm aware the children of the train will be having some type of lessons this moon. But child or adult, I haven't paid attention to who to approach."

Crowley squints, imagining what he thinks the stranger is describing is some sort of fist bump. He's not totally thrilled with those, himself.

"Ahh, I imagine you could request supplies like that directly from the train." he replies, seeming sure of it, "I did see something about arts and crafts, but it made sense it would have been for kids. That said, I've ordered all sorts of things... books, alcohol, you name it."

"Yes, though that is limited to the platform arrivals." Elidibus mentions. "I was also hoping to obtain some information." If not about what supplies to get, then how to best order them from the train's shop; twenty-five points for a 'small item' even as a set is best used efficiently. There's a moment spent in reflection.

"If nothing else, I can see who attends the art lessons," he decides. The matter seems settled in his mind. Elidibus focuses on Crowley again.

"Thank you. I hope I've not been keeping you from your business?" It's the polite thing to say. Not earnest but at least somewhat sincere. Still there might be further questions if Crowley offers any indication that he intends to stick around.

"Information isn't something the train tends to give out." he sighs, "You could try looking through the journals left in this room... some passengers have compiled what information they know."

Crowley doesn't really have any business to tend to. He doesn't really eat (although he usually taste-tests Aziraphale’s baking), doesn't need to sleep (although he does enjoy it), and never bothers with train chores. He shrugs in response. "No problem. Nothing better to do."

"Yes, it seems to be a pattern." His gaze shifts to glance around the library momentarily. "I've been here for some weeks. I'm working through those records, though I find myself more occupied than I expected."

The activity book does not count. Absolutely not.

"I see." Elidibus now focuses a little more on Crowley. A figure that's certainly of interest for what the Ascian can discern of their nature. "Is 'nothing better to do' something that applies to right now or your circumstances on this train in general?"

He appears curious but it's more the type that's interested in knowing whether his first impression of Crowley's character is accurate or if there's more underneath the surface.

Crowley shrugs, not expecting that sort of question. Surely he has other things he could be doing to keep himself busy, people he cares about, places he enjoys, so he thinks maybe the former applies to him a bit better.

"Right now, I guess." he answers, "Why do you ask?"

He could make time for this stranger if need be, as long as it doesn't make him look too helpful, he thinks.

"I've been wondering whether I might rely on you to help me with the small matter of the luggage car, wherein someone's ill-conceived order from the train's vendor of an Allagan node is currently attempting to integrate itself with the carriage's hull."

Elidibus sounds completely serious but also very calm, as though he were mentioning maybe if they're quick enough and work together, they could close all the windows before the storm starts blowing rainwater into all the rooms. The actual content could be easily missed or absentmindedly glossed over if the listener wasn't paying attention.

"No doubt some ancient program meant to engage in Eikon experimentation on those unfortunate souls who choose to visit at a bad time. But only if you have nothing better to do."

Honestly, he just wants to see if Crowley responds without really thinking about the meat of what was just said; to see if the demon is actually running on auto-pilot in the conversation. He's begun to half suspect it's the case, hence the small test.

Crowley stares for a moment, eyebrows knitted as his new acquaintance asks him for help. If he had his phone on him, and if phones worked in the void, he'd need to google at least three things before he understood what was being asked pf him. Instead, he stares unmoving for a full five seconds before one of those eyebrows pops up into an arch over his glasses, and Crowley takes a deep breath.

"Well..." he starts slowly, "To start, you might want to repeat that in the way you might ask a child to do it. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ah good. Crowley is paying attention. Elidibus waits calmly as the demon goes through the process of.... processing. His answer is more in line with an explanation than a repetition of what was just said but in simpler terms. But it's given without any hint of apology.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were actually invested in our conversation enough to pay attention. I now see you were." Of course this does nothing to explain what all those Google-worthy words before meant, if anything at all.

"That aside, to answer your earlier question I wanted to know if you the kind of person who participates in this train's missions and duties willingly or if you the type who only does what they must at minimum and avoids the rest." Elidibus tilts his head to one side, duly studying the demon. It may be seen as a mark of a question that he decides to withhold for the time being, but soon after the Ascian straightens his regard and waits for a response.

Crowley squints and makes a face that might be more telling than anything. Is he being fucked with? It feels like it. He doesn't like that.

"Are you going to pass judgement upon me for my answer?" he asks before pursing his lips. He's tired of that, too. "I do what I want when I want to. That might mean going on a mission, it might mean sleeping for the week."

His tone is a little more blunt and less casual than it had been. He's lived millennia taking sides and following orders. After all of that frustration, he'd broken free of both, only to be thrown onto a train that expects things of him and assigns him a team to follow. No thank you. He's retired.

Elidibus shakes his head. "No, you're free to do as you wish." Whether there are consequences for those actions seems beside the point. What is obvious right now is that the man Crowley's speaking to means it. He didn't intend to pass judgement in the sense that the demon seems to be implying.

"I am interested to know whether you do or not. And you have provided that answer." Sometimes will, sometimes won't, but mostly by choice- that is, inasmuch as they get any.

"No one should be judged for choosing to avoid what the Voidtrecker Express desires of them. Nor blamed for willingly participating if they so desire. Neither fact will change we are abducted and forced into this role, however convenient it may have been for some."

Crowley sighs, a bit relieved. "Yeah, sorry... Been getting a lot of guilt trips, lately." he shrugs, leaning against a nearby shelf. He shakes his head, "Hero-types." he specifies with a short laugh.

"Yeah, not my first time, that." he replies, in reference to the abduction part, anyway. And well, being forced to partake in something... that he's dealt with for millennia. Over it just doesn't cut it. "Could be worse, I suppose."

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A New Platform [Intro Post September]

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Sorry got caught up in the first of the month posts. @_@

Re: Sorry got caught up in the first of the month posts. @_@

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