A New Platform [Intro Post September]

[voidtreckermods]

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!

Comments

[deferences]

I am too, Wei Wuxian says and that encourages Sizhui to withdraw further, tilt his head back a little more and meet the man's gaze better, his brow furrowed. Were he younger and less world-weary, he'd joke with something like The fearsome Yiling Laozu can't be afraid! but he knows better now.

Desperately, he wishes that one day, they might all be together again in a proper sense, whether aboard the Voidtrecker Express or by some other means. (Even though he's already well-aware of what happens when they return home.)

Swallowing thickly, Lan Sizhui's hand scrubs across his face a final time then he straightens halfway, shifts the same hand, palm upturned while he gestures from himself to Wei Wuxian. “You and I both know what she's returning home to,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Why would the train send her back? Does it not know or does it simply not care?” He hasn't talked much to their ever-faithful(?) locomotive about such things, so maybe he should before making assumptions like this, but he hurts— pain may not be the best excuse but it's an excuse nevertheless.

[weifinder]

Wei Wuxian pauses befor he answers, allowing himself to think it over, find what he can that aren't simplicity in platitudes he's never been graceful in offering.

"I don't think it chooses," he says at last, "Who comes, or who goes, and when. I think something in how we're summoned here is inherently unstable, unlike the contracts it forms properly, like with its last crew. Or the crews like Anan's, in the brief conversations we've collectively shared."

Tethering, as Anan had called it, was a reality for them on train, but he didn't think it was the same as being truly tethered to the train.

"I think we're it's desperate attempts to solve a problem it has not, and maybe cannot, tell us about. Concerning where it's last crew disappeared to, and why we cannot be found by the ministry that oversees some portion of void travel. She's ours, but not ours. Time travel... timeline travel, it's not a myth, we're seeing it now. But I wonder if that too isn't a side effect of however the train lost its crew, A-Yuan. That we're all operating in the dark trying to figure out our own limits of actionability."

[deferences]

Patiently, he waits, wide-eyed with anticipation for Wei Wuxian's answer, even though a tiny, disbelieving part of him already knew what he was going to say.

And it's that the train doesn't choose. Sizhui's lips purse, he downturns then takes a long, deep breath he holds for a few seconds and exhales in a rough sigh afterward. Something inside him desperately prayed it'd be as easy as that but of course, it never truly is so simple, is it? Instead of interrupting, his gaze simply lifts again, he tips his head sideways and listens with intent to his father's explanation.

He nods understandingly, silent acceptance despite his wishing otherwise; it does no good to linger on things that cannot be changed and, whether he likes it or not, what Wei Wuxian's saying is true. It just isn't the same.

The clarification he launches into following it, that's what makes Lan Sizhui straighten up more proper-like, his loose arm raising so he can reach and rub across his face with the sleeve, silently giving himself a mental scolding for improperness while also reminding himself he can be a little unacceptable right now; emotions are running wild and having it told that they're part of a problem they don't quite understand yet brings a whole new slew of other feelings he'll do his best to not ignore outright. “So, do you think what we're doing, participating in all these missions, fighting hoards of monsters, allowing even our memories to be toyed with... is it helping?” At least that'd be something to put stock in, right? He's not sure how much, but gosh though, it'd sure suck if all this was worth absolutely nothing in the end.

[weifinder]

Two weeks later, the train reports some on its personal problems. Two weeks later... most of what he says remains relevant, unfortunately.

"I believe so. I also believe the train itself would throw a fit if none of it helped. And the time we have here, short or long, matters for what we make of it."

[deferences]

Alas, that's simply how it will be for as long as they're aboard the Voidtrecker Express (or at least until they get some better answers from the train). Who knows about the latter though? For all they know, they'll never have proper solutions, and perhaps they ought to be ready to just accept it.

“You're right,” he admits. “Both about the train and our time. It's a better use of the latter if we at least funnel it into something productive, which includes helping.” Something he prides himself on more often than not.

[weifinder]

He cannot protect Sizhui from loss. He, and every parent, would do so, if he could. That the world does not allow for that much kindness is something he'd wished different from a young age, and known in the same moment, only the living could offer any heart in the face of an ambivalent world.

"Mm. As much for us as for the people around us, and in memory and affection for those who are not here, even when we wish they still were. In the meantime, whenever you feel like, I'm here for hug practise, you know. I think I'm getting fairly good at it."

A warm smile, and a self-aimed tease, but it's what he needs it to be for them both.

[deferences]

Nobody can protect him from it, but having remaining friends and family certainly does help, especially those who have no trouble making little jokes to lighten the mood when it's necessary. While Sizhui cannot embrace his sister or uncle anymore (right now, anyway), he's got no problem heaping all those extra hugs onto Wei Wuxian instead.

Much like how he does now, shifting and moving both arms to hook around his father, hands interlocking as he gingerly yet firmly squeezes. “I'm always willing to give you more hugs, A-Die.” Yes, he's saying it, before the moment passes, before he loses the chance— “And I think you're right, you have gotten better.”

Which makes him hope he's getting all sorts of hugs aboard the train, and not just from him.

[weifinder]

Wei Wuxian goes still at that address. He's been learning how to respond naturally to embraces, without expecting some hidden violence involved, emotionally or physically. He was wrong in this case, but in the better ways, when his arms circle and hug Sizhui far less firmly, far more like someone holding something precious and breakable.

"A-Die, is it?" If his voice cracks on that, forgive him. "Who gave you such a sweet tongue, ah, a-Yuan?"

His hugs have spontaneously gone fragile, but that's fine, he's having an emotion.

[deferences]

Let his son take the blame for this hug becoming somewhat awkward, then. It is Sizhui's fault, after all, springing something so sudden on him and expecting everything to be hunky-dory; Wei Wuxian's reaction isn't bad in any sense either, just slightly looser and that simply gives Sizhui the excuse to hug him a bit tighter. (Careful though now, since he'd hate to injure his father when he's showing genuine affection.)

“As long as you don't mind...?” Listen, Sizhui notices, but there's no way he'll comment and he can't help grinning following Wei Wuxian's next inquiry, effectively distracted. “Well, one person who taught me, I'm currently holding onto him.” His arms tighten again for added emphasis, both for reassurance and because the hug from the opposite end has lessened further.

Then his head turns, he props against Wei Wuxian's shoulder and exhales a contented sigh. “The other... he's a man of fewer words but his actions usually speak loud enough. I think I've developed a good, well-rounded balance between both.”

[weifinder]

"No," he says, clearing his throat in what he knows is an apparent way, but hopes Sizhui lets him get away with sans commentary, "I don't mind."

His arms ease around Sizhui then, more natural as the surprise ceases to add the stiffness that says he doesn't deserve moments like this. Not when he'd insisted on falling, when he'd thought a-Yuan had died. Lan Sizhui is a young man he's been glad to know, and the nuance of that knowing has only deepened with time.

"Mm, Lan Zhan is a good man to learn from. I'll give passing marks to Zewu-jun, too. Esteemed Teacher Lan..."

He hums a contemplative note, but doesn't offer commentary; Lan Qiren has survived and borne more than many men can, or have, and is one of a dwindling generation to have survived to his age. Most his peers were dead. It was not easy, living his life, but Wei Wuxian could respect his living and not particularly like or bow too deeply out of a lack of gratitude that ran both directions.

Amusing, at least. That he could credit to Lan Qiren.

[deferences]

“Okay,” Sizhui confirms, and since he's been so good about it for Wei Wuxian, perhaps the man will excuse his son if that soft affirmation is followed by a slightly shaking, yet still relieved-sounding sigh.

He's slumping somewhat himself, but his arms hold firm and steady, making certain his father knows he isn't letting go anytime soon (so hopefully nobody happens by that needs anything). Selfish, perhaps, it's not often they get moments like these, meaning he has to soak up whatever he can get and start making up for all that lost time from before.

“Oh! Yes, absolutely, both taught me too.” It was them, of course, who helped raise him whenever Lan Wangji went into seclusion, and that's just as important. “I hadn't meant to disclude them, not at all.” Here's hoping both Zewu-juns who are already here won't judge him too much for that... but at least he needn't worry about Lan Qiren's ever-strict presence aboard the train. (For now, anyway. Heavens help them though if he does happen to appear anytime soon.)

And, despite their varying differences in just about everything, Sizhui sees no reason why there cannot be the acceptance that Lan Qiren helped raise a decent boy.

[weifinder]

And it's conversation he gladly continues, keeping his son close, letting his pain bleed out and not fester as much as he can, while they speak about things to fill the minutes before the train's mouth closes around them once more, the bi-monthly reminder that nothing comes or stays on any schedule known.

The time they have here can only be filled while it exists, and so they must, and they will, make sure to not leave it wanting.