voidtreckerexpress | A NEW PLATFORM [INTRO POST JANUARY]

A NEW PLATFORM [INTRO POST JANUARY]

On the Train

Despite whatever Voidtreckers may have learned or how they feel about those revelations - or reminders - of the precariousness of their situation, the train flies ever onward.

"Good morning Voidtreckers, it is day one of the month of Poi. 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. The weather is dry but there is a chill to the air and a strong breeze." 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. Dairine, Okada Izō, Rapunzel, Satoru and Siebren; 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 thirteen new faces. Wearing hoodies in all four colours and 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 long with a grassy mound behind them. It is blustery and the air is cold, they will be glad of those hoodies.

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, windy platform; then the fog begins to fade and they realise they aren’t alone.

Thirteen figures, 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'). The store rooms have been restocked with fresh ingredients, with cans of corned beef lining the shelves.

For passengers that have bought items, these are also scattered around the luggage carriage in various suitcases and bags. Those from purple who go to find their prize will find a large box containing a gingerbread train for them to share. Plenty enough to go around, even for the largest team.

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.

Snow Time: Rock Garden

Winter seems to have followed from Osiga and nested in the rock garden. There's a chill that nips in the air and a light snow (real snow) fills the air. A thin cloudy haze at the top of the carriage seems the source. Yet the kaleidoscope of the void will assure that this is no timely world stop.

People might have seen it occurring the night before. Snow falling heavy before tapering off with an odd precision, leaving a heavy blanket over the carriage 'ground'. By morning of Platform Day, a miniature winter has descended, ripe for snowforts, snowballs, angels and snowmen.

It's not just the climate that's changed. Many statues and rock features are missing or moved. Digging below the snow reveals soil now frozen but providing a barrier between the bare floor of the carriage. Keen eyes will see changes are made with safety and available space in mind. The fountain has been emptied but the pond and streams are frozen solid, allowing intrepid spirits to try slide-skating over the surfaces without the risk of breaking through. The mosaics are still around, and enchantments are in place to protect paintings and paper decorations from damp. Any plants have been sent to sleep or taken to safety.

The benches are still around. Paths and bridges are covered with fresh snow, but, as the day goes on, it's trampled down and or scattered. Najaran's woodfolk may be glimpsed near Jingyi's shrine or hiding in the shadows of rocks and statues still present, perhaps even buried in the snow and peeking out. Shy around humans, though those with pointed ears or Hylian lineage may find an easier time interacting.

There are signs on both doors of the carriage warning of the change and mentioning the dressing carriage will have winter gear, and it does: with hats, scarves, gloves and ice skates in a variety of sizes. Dispensers with warm drinks such as coffee, hot chocolate and hot water for tea are available in the Games Carriage.

Early the next day, the snow will be gone and the gardens returned to how they once were.

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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Thankfully some of these words are slightly less weird to Inigo than they otherwise would have been. He learned from Bucky that the guy had been part of the army back home - a fact that must be the same for Soldat then, Inigo figures. It explains the regiment thing. It must have been what people in the army ate where Bucky and Soldat came from.

Though the name of the food still doesn't help him a whole lot. The beef part makes it clear that it's meat, sure, but..

"What kind of meat is that?" Inigo sounds curious. "I don't think I have ever heard of it back in Ylisse."

Then again, it's not like Inigo didn't live ages before the very concept of canned anything.

"Do you have cows? Beef comes from cows," Soldat explains amiably. "This is ground up fine and processed with gelatin, though. That's probably why it looks strange to you. It's from when I was younger, on my world."

Inigo nods. Yes, he sure knows what cows are - and what beef is. Meat is one of those little pleasures in life, after all. (Though sugar is rapidly catching up with it.)

But the other part is indeed what's confusing the boy, though the explanation is helping a lot with it. Inigo sure isn't used to any kind of elaborate meat preparation like that..

"Oh.. why do they do that?"

He's more than willing to accept this reality, apparently, though he's now just curious about it.

"Does it make it taste better?" Of course that is the first thing he thinks of.

"Gelatin doesn't have much flavor unless you mix it with something," Soldat says. "It's for preservation and storage, mostly. This shit will keep forever if you keep the tin closed. All it really does to the meat itself is change up the texture."

So it's not really changing the food as much as it's just.. making sure that you can keep it around longer? It's not that Inigo can't see the convenience of that, it's just that the answer is slightly disappointing compared to the cool scenarios he may have imagined in his head, so for a moment he looks bummed.

Only for a moment though. Because he's already continuing with the obvious conclusion, saying: "Well, I suppose it is true that we can't exactly raise animals for fresh meat here on the train.."

Especially since it's not cows as often in Inigo's world. He's more thinking bears, thanks. Or boars. Not exactly train animal material.

"Not really, no. Even if there was room, which there wouldn't be even if we got a whole livestock car--" They cannot imagine keeping a cow or sheep or even a goat locked up in the length of a single train car. "--I can't think a lot of the kids would want to watch us kill and butcher animals they helped take care of."

Hell, Soldat can imagine themselves not wanting to do it. (No. Yes, all right, I could always have you do it. But that feels a bit like cheating. No. Guess maybe we could have room for chickens. Doubt killing a chicken would be as hard for you as a cow.)

".. true."

Inigo honestly wouldn't have much of a problem with the butchering - but that's kind of what happens when you come from a place with food shortages. You start to get incredibly not picky about this sort of stuff, and he's always been the one to offer him up for the hard positions.

But the kids were doubtlessly going to ask where they'd get the extra meat from, and.. well, it'd be a mess. Inigo can only imagine. So he gives Soldat a slight nod before pulling up his shoulders.

"So we will just have to make do with this other beef." The gelatin beef, or whatever it was. "Does it at least taste similar to regular beef?"

Even if he has already confirmed it won't taste better, at least.

Soldat just did a whole lot of killing of people, and killing an animal they cared for would probably wind up hitting a nerve. Killing enemies on a battlefield is one thing, but a cow that you brushed and fed and milked? Prooooobably not.

"Oh definitely. Here." They nod at the pot. "There's some of the beef in that, stewing. It's not quite done, but it's edible, might even be good. You can scoop some out. Tell me if you think it needs more salt." They even stretch up to grab a bowl out of the cabinet above them to offer him.

This is exactly the sort of thing no one has to tell Inigo twice.

When he's offered the bowl, he's already taking it, and then grabbing a spoon to - at least carefully, he doesn't want to ruin the entire thing for them! - scoop some out of the pot.

A few moments later it's already in his mouth, as Inigo is tasting it. At first he seems to be chewing on it rather thoughtfully, but then he slowly nods.

"It's not so bad." He can tell it's not entirely done yet, but the taste is mostly there. "You're right, it tastes just like normal meat."

Despite the odd description of it Soldat gave him.

There's a ladle in there that they'd been using to stir; easy enough to use that to get some out. Soldat watches out of the corner of their eye as they work, waiting for the verdict. "Not so bad," they repeat, mock-offended. "It's not so bad."

Then they shake their head and smile. "Yeah, when you stew it, the different texture really isn't as noticeable. How about the salt? Need more, or is there enough flavor?"

"Hey--!" Inigo's jaw drops, looking panicked for a moment.

Despite the fact that they're clearly smiling, and despite the fact that it makes it very, very obvious that Soldat is just joking, there's the faintest moment where Inigo still looks like he's panicking about this all the same.

"W-What else did you want me to say?"

Pal, don't do this to him! Come on, Soldat, look at this kicked puppy look in his eyes...

.. even his tone when he continues talking sounds very, very kicked-puppy-esque. ".. I, uh. I think it's fine like this. Maybe a little more salt, since other people might be pickier about it than I am.."

When you nearly starve in a post-apocalyptic future, you kind of stop worrying about how much salt there is on your meat, honestly. Or in your stew.

"Inigo. Inigo, I'm teasing you," Soldat says, holding up a hand as if in an attempt to forestall the panic. (Jesus. I can remember when you used to panic like that when somebody teased you. SERIOUSLY? Hell, sometimes they still do.)

They turn their smile as gentle as they can, with their not-always-cooperative face. "I'm not mad, promise. You were fine."

"... oh."

That's very much an oh of realisation. It's even belated with that tiny pause in front of it, and Inigo's gaze awkwardly moves from Soldat towards the soup and is then just aimed at nothing in particular.

He's silent for an awkward moment. Then Inigo reaches a free hand up to scratch the back of his head.

"S-Sorry. I guess I should work on being a little bit more aware of that, huh.."

"It's okay. I'm sorry I wasn't more clear," Soldat says, shaking their head. "I know what it's like to not understand teasing and jokes. I oughta be more careful about that sort of thing." Particularly with people like Inigo, who takes things very literally.

Inigo still looks embarrassed, but something about that particular statement makes a bit of surprise creep into his eyes as he looks at them.

".. you do?"

He didn't miss the part where Soldat said that they know what it's like.

"But.. you're so cool though." Sure, Soldat is.. well, they're pretty unique. (Then again, aren't they all on this train?) But they're also definitely a tough person who always seems to manage things for themselves, so Inigo can't help but get that impression.

"You should've met me right after I died and landed in Beacon," Soldat says with half a smile, looking kind of sad. "I've had two years, now, to get better. Back then I hardly spoke. Couldn't figure out what to do with my own time without orders. Didn't understand humor or. Or kindness, at all. Didn't think I was allowed to have friends or. Or even a name."

They shake their head a bit. "I'm not cool, Inigo. I'm not even really a person. They hollowed me out. I'm still learning things I ought to know. Maybe used to know."

He silently listens to them speak.

But even as he does that, there's a definite look in his eyes. If Soldat looks up at all, they'll be able to see it. But even if they don't, it's very much audible in Inigo's voice by the time he does speak up. It's a sad kind of look, like Inigo immediately can't help but feel for the other. Like he can imagine how tough all of that must have been, even though it wasn't happening to him.

It's a sympathetic look.

(His only solace here is that he at least manages to keep himself from crying over it, like some sort of way too empathic weenie.)

"I.. think you're cool," he says. Though it's a little softer than before, like it's not an opinion he wants to force on the other. But he still wants them to know it's what Inigo thinks. "You're always cooking, always trying to help other people out. You're tough, but caring."

And that last part - that's always a combination of traits Inigo admires in people.

"I think that's all stuff that.. makes you you."

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A NEW PLATFORM [INTRO POST JANUARY]

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