voidtreckerexpress | Event: Brace the Storm

Event: Brace the Storm

"Attention Voidtreckers. Brace yourselves for a voidstorm. Remember to stay strong and stick together. The Voidtrecker Express apologises for any distress this might cause."

It's not all that much of a warning, but it definitely explains the bouts of turbulence. The colours of the void outside the windows whirl and deepen, the train rocking unsteadily. A song usually confined in the spaces between carriages wails within their walls. Emergency lights switch on as the main sets flicker, and anything that could be a danger is shut down, locking the lab and armoury and limiting access to the medical bays to those who truly need to be there.

This may be for the best, as when the voidtreckers move through the train, they will find things to be... peculiar. The stream of choral singing has stuck around, bringing about a general feeling of unease in passengers. Stranger than this is when they move between carriages, and don't always find themselves where they were expecting. They know that the quiet coach should lead to standard, but instead, they end up in the music car, or library.

And within the carriages themselves, all is not as it seems...

The storm rages for three days, colours lashing at the windows, a ghostly song wailing through the walls. The train itself is able to steady after an hour or two, even if the bizarre effects throughout the carriages continue.

Be it as small as colour changing in the music room, emotions getting high over a board game, or even their minds being swept away into stories of other worlds, it will be all the passengers can do to follow the scant wisdom of the train. Stay strong. Stick together.

All storms eventually pass.

BRACE THE STORM

OOC NOTES. Remember that the event takes place during Orchestra 7-9 (13-18 November). The ooc information for this event is here. Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You okay?" His words are casual, but he genuinely does stop, watching his companion closely, and there is the furrow between his eyebrows again. He tries to speak a few times but... words are difficult to come, regarding the ghosts of someone's past. He can't question or soften their blow after all, and it might be better if he doesn't try.

He knows he would not appreciate it.

So he goes for something completely different, completely out of the blue. A grin breaks the worry away, and Esteban drops his hand to allow the tender cheek to be revealed, pointing at it and then at hers before speaking.

"We match! Does it look cool on me at least?" he asks, even though he really should be tracking down some ice to put on it at the minimum. It still feels as though his left eye is burning, and he doesn't quite dare to open it, but the worst of the bruise seems to be on his cheekbone, luckily. He'd done his best to minimize the damage, even with as short a time of reaction as he had.

Edited (accidental repetitions) 2021-11-17 03:34 (UTC)

I'll get there, she signed, with a deep breath. It's just...never seen anything like THAT before.

But then at his latter statement she frowns, looking around.

Seeing the hurt I inflicted on someone, even accidentally, is never cool. We need to find something cool to put on that.

Oh, he didn't-- he just wanted to...

The half-elf deflates a bit, but his grin doesn't leave his face, though his hand comes up to cover the wounded eye again. The pressure really does wonders, at least for now, but the warmth also makes it itch a lot, and he briefly wishes his hands could get cool once in a while. He definitely does need ice.

"Well, there's always a risk with adventure? But I betcha you've seen some pretty cool stuff too!" He cheers, walking backwards so that she can still see him while they're conversing. She definitely doesn't seem shiny-bright to the train as he is sure he is projecting right about now.

He's pretty sure the ice is going to be in the kitchen? That's... five? carriages away?

"Oh! Am I talkin' too fast?" He suddenly realizes, pausing in his path as he is more concerned about the question at hand. His one opened eye does seem to follow her hands more carefully now, right side most especially.

She gestures at the scar on her face and nods in agreement to the risk part, then shakes her head in the negative, signing again.

No, I'm used to this. So where is the ice?

"I was gonna bet on the kitchen," the half-elf mentioned, glancing behind himself before he started walking backwards again. It's a wonder he hasn't tripped up onto someone else yet, but he's pretty determined, and the thin hallways of the train do at least ensure his trajectory isn't super complicated at least.

He briefly considers telling her she doesn't have to come with him, but he knows he'd never be able to leave someone hurt without fussing like a mother hen himself, so he's not going to try. So blabbering it is.

Wait-- did he introduce himself yet?

"I'm Esteban by the way!" He will not let their rather catastrophic first meeting remove any truth from his smile as he assures her "It's nice to meetcha!"

Amaya, she signs, before setting off in the direction of the kitchen, making sure to reach back for his forearm, to make sure he's there and the train weirdness does not separate them.

Oh! Oh that works! Bit silly, but Esteban hasn't thought about it on his own-- and though he tenses a bit when she reaches across between them, he doesn't mind it once he catches the intention behind it. It breaks their line of sight when they fall side by side like this, and after a moment, the hand covering the wound falls away.

He... hopes he hasn't upset her more. Seems like so far, the only thing he's managed to do is make things worse. But he'll try his best to help, even though he's not sure how he could make any of it better.

At the very least, their stride make the trek to the kitchens a pretty brisk walk now that he's not being an idiot and walking backwards.

He hadn't made things worse - her brain was, right now, entirely capable of doing that on its own, really. Violence against civilians, the undeserving? Right at the top of her list of 'not to dos', really - this was something that could weigh on her, and had to be redressed as quickly as possible.

Which did lead to her immediately working through the kitchens to get a bag of ice together - ignoring, for the moment, the small marvel of having ice that just...turns up, made by a machine.

Esteban stays back as she busies herself in the kitchen, covering the wound again. The pain doesn't flare as much anymore, thankfully, though it still itches and burns something fierce, and careful prodding reveal the bones at the corner of his eye are definitely tender. His eye had been weeping lightly from the pain, and the eyelid definitely prefers being closed, probably as a protection from more inflammation. He wipes the tears away gently before approaching her again.

He is far more obvious now that he knows, waving a hand far into her peripheral vision before stepping into her line of sight. He's grinning again, his eye covered, and tries to speak up-- blabbering lines of utter gibberish that have a happy, uplifting rise to his lips.

And not a single word of it makes any sense.

"I think ya missed anythin' major! Lucky~" He's trying to reassure her, really; downplay what has happened, because he really doesn't think she's taking this entire thing well. He's so aware that she didn't mean to do this, and it kinda makes him uneasy that guilt lingers like this. He's gotten hurt worse than this in bar fights.

It was an accident! She shouldn't be that upset! See? He's perfectly fine!

She can tell what he's doing, and the sudden lack of understanding the words - well, one more lovely little effect. But for the moment, she holds a finger up to her lips, before pressing the ice bag against his head gently.

He does flinch a bit to the cold, both relieved and startled by it, before leaning on more fully under the touch of ice. Both his eyes are closed, with his eyebrows pinched as he adapts to the change of temperature; taking deep breaths in and out in cycles. When he manages a bit better, his good eye opens again, and a little embarrassed, he reaches to hold the ice to his face himself.

"Thanks!" They linger for a bit in what Esteban considers a rather awkward silence, and he takes a breath to say something more, before he realizes that she had asked him to keep quiet. So he watches her instead, noting how straight her shoulders are when she stands, the way she carries herself.

But she communicates with her hands. There's something so strange and foreign about the concept-- something that Esteban struggles to grasp for a moment, but that is so incredibly intriguing. How does she do it? It leaves him staring at them, watching her movements without the weariness that had clung to him earlier.

She nods, keeping an eye on him for a long moment before finally checking her own knuckles. She doesn't want blood on them, and...that'd be a little bit extra guilt she doesn't need right now.

Finally, she just ends up watching him, too. Her look one of remorse.

It takes him a moment to notice her movement has stopped, and Esteban startles a bit, eyes rising back up to hers. Her previous request to remain quiet keeps for only a few more moments, but the half-elf has never been as comfortable with silence as most people seem to be, and he tries regardless, unaware that the words garble and trip over themselves when they cross his lips.

"You okay?" he manages at least, repeating his previous worry. If his words are not clear, his face at least is; eye round with curiosity, but his his head leaning lightly forwards in worry and the openness of someone listening intently. He brightens suddenly, trying again, this time to communicate using the same language as hers-- erroneous in his attempt, but at least trying.

"I'm okay!" he assures, pointing at himself, before rising his right hand in a thumbs up with a grin that tries to chase away any gloomy clouds.

The words aren't readable on his lips, but she can read the body language just fine. She just gives him a thumbs up, smiling a little bit, much as she doesn't terribly feel it.

He can tell there isn't much heart in her movement, and he wonders briefly why the translator-- or whatever it is that speaks for her when she signs-- didn't pick up on her movement, but figures it's simply because the gesture is pretty universal. Half a second more lingers between them as Esteban watches her, trying to see how he might help, but really, there's only one thing he's good at under these circumstances, and it's running his mouth.

Well, he hopes she won't mind.

He keeps his expressions bright and cheery, despite the ice pack still cradled at his eye, and there is a sort of clumsy attempt for him to move hands as if he could even try to begin to imitate her. Or maybe he's just being extremely mobile, as his gestures don't make that much sense. (Then again; he is one-handed right now).

"'Dians, you're really fast though!" he blabbers, leaning a bit forwards again, as if to express his admiration. "I kinda get in trouble sometimes, but never got to get this good; betcha you train lots!" Then again, a lot of people here seem to train... lots.

"It kinda makes me wonder, t' be honest, 'cause I don't know what to expect when we get out there, but I betcha you know yer way around. I've heard so many things 'but nothin' concrete an' I'm tryin' to track down some information, but at the same time, seems like everythin's different every single time, so it's kinda excitin'~ but also like, I don' wanna let anyone down." He really should consider training... more.

He'll take any opportunity that presents itself, he decides. Better than doing nothing-- and besides. He loves his spinning-- truly he does! But there's only so many times he can go through a dance before getting sick of the practice. Oh wait-- he's blabbering and not letting her in!

"Sorry-- here I go again~" He snickers at this, as a bit of an apology, before he nods at her again. "I noticed you got a sword!" Kind of hard not to, if he's to be honest. "Is that yer main weapon? D'you train in lots of different kinds or just the one?"

Briefly, he wonders if people tend to pick up weapons like he tends to pick up fire-spinning tools. First one, then another and a third. He misses his staff and rope-dart if he's to be honest.

She can't understand any of it, of course. But she gets the gesture towards her sword, and the enthusiasm is self-explanatory. So she nods, gently touching the pommel.

But, perhaps tellingly, doesn't draw it. She doesn't show off like that.

He lingers a little longer on that last sentence, wondering why she doesn't add more to it, but eventually, the silence breaks him apart again. Esteban gets his cheeriest smile again, and starts yet again.

His movements are wild again, and there are a few times where his left hand twitches against the bag, and he moves it lightly, before apparently remembering that it is still needed. He makes an odd movement with his hand that twists it from one side to the other while throwing it higher at chest level, before moving on and there's more gesticulations that say absolutely nothing but that clearly are meant to represent something in particular. He sends her another grin as he finishes his tangled-up words, leaning onto the counter behind himself to take a small break.

There's more questions that he asks, a tilt to his head, and his eyes are actually getting a little worried now that she hasn't answered in... quite a while. His large hand comes to brush against the back of his hair as he asks them, before he indicates the door at the far end of the hallway. He bows his head next, and his lips move again in that odd garble, while his hand drop down back to the counter. He sends her a sunny grin, and finally stops.

The hand gestures should make sense. Reading body language has always been a skill of hers, for some reason. She frowns, because it's...blurry. That's not right. She's fine and that means...

Ugh, it's a room effect. Again.

She leans back, covering her face with her hands for a moment, then nods in agreement with him - pointing in the same direction he had. Maybe the next car down will be better.

It might be a surprise then, that Esteban doesn't move away at all, simply waving at her before he rubs the back of his head, a blabber of meaningless words on his lips that cannot be read. He's still grinning though, and his head tilts to the side as he shares a light snicker between them, his nose scrunching a bit with how mischievous he's being.

But he drops it pretty soon, staying quiet for a few moments, before rising a single eyebrow while his head tilts ever so slightly in an obvious question.

She just frowns at that, then gestures with both hands towards the door, arching an eyebrow.

He blinks a few times, confused when the warrior doesn't leave; clearly he'd meant he'd be staying back. But there's a slow understanding as he glances at her wrist-- the silent SCA that still has not translated her gesture, before peering up at her.

To confirm, he points at her first, then himself, then at her again, before pointing at the door. There's the raised eyebrow of a question still, but he seems ready to follow her at the very least, nudging himself off the casual slouch he'd taken against the counters while he'd blabbered.

She nods, stepping through. She waits for him to catch up, rubbing her hands together. And when he does, she immediately leaps into action, signing as the SCA finally pipes back up.

I'm so sorry - I didn't want to hurt you, the carriage was showing me ghosts of my family, and I couldn't even think straight. If there's anything I can do to make things up to you, please, please let me know.

He flinches a bit to see her hands suddenly flutter into a quick pattern, but there's a determined look that settles over his one good eye, and rather than watching her face, he settles for watching her gestures as she goes through them.

Well.

Well! No wonder this had been a mess. He hadn't realized at all at first that there had been anything wrong within the kitchen, seeing as... he'd just heard himself fine. And Amaya had been quite still, concerned, and staying close, but no gesture nor speech-- hand... wave thing. 'Dians, he probably let her stew in her guilt for a good few minutes while he'd been babbling his head off.

And the ghosts. Oof. He can't hide his wince when she mentions them, having personally seen what the ghost of a single loved one might do to someone, nevermind many. 'Dians, no wonder. His smile is softer, this time around, but no less sunny, trying to convey more than just words to the woman in front of him.

"Hey! It's okay! I don't mind!" He assures, and there isn't even a single edge of a lie in his words. He might have a bit of trouble if she goes too fast in her hand signing in the next few days, but he knows he'll get over it-- she wasn't trying to hurt him per say.

"'S long as I helped y'out, I'm good with it!" Bruise included. It's just a bruise after all; it'll heal.

She still sighs a bit, nodding.

You did. I don't know how I'd ever get away from those things otherwise. Never exactly seen ghosts before. Not the literal kind.

There. See? He might have been a bit clumsy at it; but he's helped, and to Esteban, that's pretty much the most important part of this.

"'T's harder 'cause they're important to us," he agrees, but... "an' it shows that we still love them!" It might have sounded upset, but Esteban's smile never slips away. Despite the wrench in his emotions, he's still glad to see a silver lining in the outline of the storm.

Event: Brace the Storm

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