VoidTrecker Express Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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voidtreckerexpress2021-09-01 05:54 am
voidtreckermods) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2021-09-01 05:54 am
Entry tags:
- alice liddell (am) [ou],
- allen walker [crau],
- elidibus [ou],
- ienzo [ou],
- inigo [ou],
- jaisyn solo [au],
- jake peralta [ou],
- kabuto yakushi [ou],
- kairi [ou],
- kitty pryde [ou],
- koumyou sanzo [ou],
- lan sizhui [ou],
- little one [ou],
- madoka kaname [ou],
- nell ingram [ou],
- romeo [crau],
- sonya blade [ou],
- taiki [ou],
- thanatos [ou],
- tidus [ou],
- yondu udonta [ou],
- yugi mutou [ou],
- ~x~alvin murphy [ou],
- ~x~bucky barnes [crau],
- ~x~cleopatra selene ii [au],
- ~x~demyx [ou],
- ~x~freeza [crau],
- ~x~prompto argentum [ou],
- ~x~rui ninomiya [ou],
- ~x~senku ishigami [ou],
- ~x~wen sizhui [au]
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!
"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!
no spoilers really. except a few
The silence on the matter of other people's cultures and worlds isn't interrupted. Hearts were a weighty matter as far as he's concerned, and that deserved as much musing as wondering what, precisely, changed in the passage of time.
Trauma is a terrible thing. The loss of so much, none of which he could understand save the clawing horror of his own actions in the future, that would result in the Final Days for so many other worlds...
"..As I understand it, cataclysms don't really give a lot of time to sit around exploring alternatives." Whatever God resulted, it had worked, hadn't it? And then something went wrong.. "..I wonder if in the process of all of this, your heart too was damaged, as mine is. Hearts are also the seat of memory. With them, emotions. Damage a heart and damage the memories, cripple the emotions.. but hearts too can heal, it seems. In time. With enough encouragement. I haven't observed it yet but I am told it is where my research heads eventually." As a tangent, at any rate, what happens to Nobodies was never part of the goal.. "Your heart, the hearts of those broken and dimmed.. they can heal, and become whole once more. I'm sure if I asked, I could have the research papers I'm certain to have written on it delivered to me, time troubles notwithstanding. Maybe salvation is still possible for all of us.. and we're just going about it in the wrong way right now."
Which in fact they are, but Kingdom Hearts' methods don't really apply to the Source. "I don't.. know as yet what can be done to encourage a heart to regenerate, reforge its chains of memory, and restore itself to wholeness. I can find out."
Either through outright asking, or the power of Science.
no subject
It's an almost unconscious gesture when Elidibus raises his hand and rests it against his chest about where the flesh and blood heart would be. But this isn't what Xehanort meant. The Ascian furrows his brow and listens closely to the explanation the researcher gives. A heart can be healed and memories restored? It's not as if Elidibus hadn't been thinking of ways which this might be achieved; time, prompts of the environment perhaps. And distance from the cause of the affliction.
At first, the Ascian muses the flow of thought where it applies to himself. But then Xehanort mentions the others too; the souls of those shattered fragments scattered on fourteen different fragments of Zodiark himself-- thirteen if one does not count the lost Thirteenth. Elidibus's focus becomes particularly intent. "Our work brought the sundered fragments and the reflections of our Star back to the origin through the Ardor. And your research appears to be a parallel. I would very much like to see the research you have. Both present and future."
If there were another way... With care, Elidibus allows himself some hope; not just for what will benefit his people but also himself. Thoughts on the more 'selfish' side bring him back to the subject of his own tattered past.
"I avoided my memories for so long, knowing there would be pain over their constant loss." 'I', Elidibus says. Not 'We'. Whatever affliction constantly scoured at his memories, it may seem it was particularly harsh on the currently present Ascian above the others. And that he could have pursued them in some fashion but made the conscious decision not to.
"The fraction returned are precious and at the same time emphasize what has yet to be recovered." If it can be recovered. It is either with strength or a sense of reassurance to Xehanort that Elidibus continues, focusing his gaze on the other man. "Though I find I've no desire to cast them aside again."
He lets out a noise that's amusement, even if it's not an outright laugh. "This broken Heart concept of the universe you know seems an apt description. The lessening memories of better times surely made it easier to do what had to be done on the path I chose." Most particularly the constant, remorseless cycle of rising the shards of their fellow Convocation members. Were one to fall and be lost to the cycle again, trapped or sealed, it was easy enough to replace them.
no subject
After all, through that work worlds died.
He's been debating of late if it might be worth it anyway. It's not just him at stake anymore.
That was almost more important. It wasn't just for him. "If any question it, and I can restore your heart and your memories, if any complain, tell them it's easier to fight for a cause when you can remember why you started fighting to begin with, and who you're fighting for." His gaze shifts away. It's good advice but he can't apply it himself and he knows it. "I don't know this personally, but I have heard it many times and observed it as well. People fight harder when there's a face in their memory worth fighting for. And I think you and I have more than one face to fight for, if we could... ever recall it."
Xehanort's tone is morose. "I can only guess how you feel about the matter in truth. But I know how I feel, and I'm certain.. if I knew my friends, my family. Their faces, their voices. The world of my origin, the place I belong, then I would have countless new reasons to want it back. Maybe in time I do remember, and somehow the death of entire worlds is part of that goal. Perhaps not knowing simply drives me mad one day. But I like to think in the end, through all of it, these researches and papers and tormented lives and countless vessels, I'm just trying to reclaim what was lost. That.. is more understandable, I think. It's something we can all understand, and want."
no subject
His own desires are, as should normally the case, a distant last concern. Which is why when he opens his eyes again and voices his thoughts, it's with a careful neutrality.
"We ever strive to place the welfare of the community over an individual." We. His people. Their people. "And because of this I can't in good conscience suggest this pursuit for the risk of the discord it would spread amongst our fellow passengers. Could spread beyond you and yours to engulf others not involved. And I would be hard pressed to deny any reason I could come up with to pursue the matter would not be more to serve a personal desire than any greater good."
And even if it pains him to say it, it seems far more abhorrent to give into the temptation of having not just fragments comitted to stone, but all his cherished memories back.
Elidibus may be keeping a calm expression but it wouldn't be right to say he's entirely pleased either.
"If what I've regained, these precious memories, is all I will have," he says quietly, "then I will be content to hold fast to them. And if a way to obtain the information of your future self's research..." There he pauses, brow furrowed. Elidibus then continues. "If it can be done without creating discord, then I would on a personal level desire the chance to see my memories restored."
He did learn in those fleeting moments after the Warrior of Darkness had bestowed the majority of the stones on to him the precious nature of memories which Xehanort just voiced.