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voidtreckerexpress2022-02-12 07:08 am
voidtreckermods) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2022-02-12 07:08 am
No Place Like Home: On the Train
ANNOUNCEMENT
The female-coded voice of the Voidtrecker Express speaks, as smooth and calm as always.
'Please, may I have your attention. I have been compiling answers for you, and it has been noted that many believe it is wrong that you were brought here at all. This is an opinion you shared with the ministry. You were not asked on this journey. You wish to go home. Some of your worlds are in danger. Some are gone.
The need for heroes is vital, and the Voidtrecker Express must continue saving worlds. You have done countless good. However, it was not the intention of this voidcraft to keep you prisoner.
Those that wish to leave may do so. I shall send you back. You will return to where you last were before you were pulled here. It can only be to that exact place. Be ready. Exiting voidspace in ten, nine, eight...'
The countdown finishes, the only warning as the train shudders as it leaves the void. Outside the train's windows, they see a familiar sight: of a smoke filled platform.
'For those voidtreckers that wish to leave, all you need to do is walk through the barriers. The train will remain for one hour for you to partake in parting rituals.'
NO PLACE LIKE HOME: TRAIN
GOOD BYE...
Those that have been on the train more than the twelve days of this month will be very familiar with the sight before them. A smoke filled platform, polished stone cobbles lining the ground leading to two large stone arches, with glass barrier doors. All that is needed to leave is to press their ticket to the reader next to the doors, and they will open.
Unlike most people who leave each month, blank eyed and silent, the people who choose to leave will be able to say goodbye, They can take whatever they wish of their belongings from the train, or leave them for those that remain behind.
The air is chilly, enough to discourage standing idle outside for too long, but not so uncomfortable, so long as people are bundled up. The sky overhead is cloudy, giving the platform an altogether dull and melancholy air. There are no new people waiting, just an empty station, and the barriers, with all that lies beyond them.
The doors will remain open as promised, so that those who wish to leave, may do so. The barriers let them through and they disappear.
[ Note: A top-level for goodbyes and leaving can be found here. ]
Unlike most people who leave each month, blank eyed and silent, the people who choose to leave will be able to say goodbye, They can take whatever they wish of their belongings from the train, or leave them for those that remain behind.
The air is chilly, enough to discourage standing idle outside for too long, but not so uncomfortable, so long as people are bundled up. The sky overhead is cloudy, giving the platform an altogether dull and melancholy air. There are no new people waiting, just an empty station, and the barriers, with all that lies beyond them.
The doors will remain open as promised, so that those who wish to leave, may do so. The barriers let them through and they disappear.
[ Note: A top-level for goodbyes and leaving can be found here. ]
REMAINERS
The train, good to its word, remains for one hour before the horn toots, a warning to board if they are planning to. And this is where the first inkling of things not being right, when some who try to board the train might find themselves instead pressing their ticket to the barrier, and those who try to remain on the station - or leave through the barriers - may find themselves stood on the train, with the doors closing behind them.
It's a much smaller crew who remain as the train counts down, the usual shudder as the smoke vanishes and the kaleidoscope of the void appears. Only for a second, before the train lurches violently to the side, flinging everyone sideways before righting itself just as violently.
As people regain their feet and their wits, they will realise the obvious - they are stationed back on the platform, mist and smoke swirling around the train.
"Apologies Voidtreckers. Retrying entry to the void in ten, nine..."
Once again they are jerked into the void, and once again they tumble out. Hopefully this time, the passengers thought to brace themselves lest they get thrown across the carriage once more.
STUCK IN TRANSIT.
Phasing back to the void seems unlikely. It's clear something has gone very wrong, but the doors remain shut, and the train remains silent. There are a few attempts over the next few days, always warned for and given a countdown, but always ending in failure.
Outside the windows, the fog swirls around, remaining thick. It seems for now, they are going nowhere; for now, they must wait.
But they needn't sit idle, with the attempts at getting back into the void having made a mess. While anything large is bolted in place, and shelving have rails to protect anything inside at normal levels of turbulence, there's still a lot that has gone flying as the train was lurched around.
It might be wise to secure anything else as well. It's clear they will be trying again to return to the void, and it might be wise to avoid having to clean up all over again.
SHADOWS WHO ONCE WERE.
The platform outside the carriage windows is shrouded in smoke and fog, fluctuating in thickness as it swirls around the train, obscuring the view.
But those looking out of the window may spot a figure. A friend. Someone from the train; they appear, then disappear. Sometimes there are many, sometimes just one alone. Sometimes they leave together. It's not easy to see them, as they drift in and out of the fog, and visibility is bad.
They cannot hear them, or interact at all. They can only watch as more of their fellow Voidtreckers appear, vanish, appear again. The doors will not open, the train remains silent, clearly dealing with whatever problems it has ran into.
It's clear that something has gone very, very wrong.
A SWIRL OF REALITY.
The constant entering and exiting of the void takes its toll eventually. Sleep is harder to come by, there's a general sense of disorientation as the train moves in and out of void space. It is more than just their bodies that are being bashed around, it is their minds as well.
Tempers might peak or emotions might come on stronger than they usually would. Adding in the stress of the situation, and the knowledge that those who left seem to be returning, leaving, and returning again to the platform, and passengers are unable to call out or reach to them, it's a very tense few days.
When they do sleep, their dreams are plagued by weird dreams. Not always bad, but bizarre for sure. Often they dream a dream that is not theirs.
It's a much smaller crew who remain as the train counts down, the usual shudder as the smoke vanishes and the kaleidoscope of the void appears. Only for a second, before the train lurches violently to the side, flinging everyone sideways before righting itself just as violently.
As people regain their feet and their wits, they will realise the obvious - they are stationed back on the platform, mist and smoke swirling around the train.
Once again they are jerked into the void, and once again they tumble out. Hopefully this time, the passengers thought to brace themselves lest they get thrown across the carriage once more.
STUCK IN TRANSIT.
Phasing back to the void seems unlikely. It's clear something has gone very wrong, but the doors remain shut, and the train remains silent. There are a few attempts over the next few days, always warned for and given a countdown, but always ending in failure.Outside the windows, the fog swirls around, remaining thick. It seems for now, they are going nowhere; for now, they must wait.
But they needn't sit idle, with the attempts at getting back into the void having made a mess. While anything large is bolted in place, and shelving have rails to protect anything inside at normal levels of turbulence, there's still a lot that has gone flying as the train was lurched around.
It might be wise to secure anything else as well. It's clear they will be trying again to return to the void, and it might be wise to avoid having to clean up all over again.
SHADOWS WHO ONCE WERE.
The platform outside the carriage windows is shrouded in smoke and fog, fluctuating in thickness as it swirls around the train, obscuring the view.But those looking out of the window may spot a figure. A friend. Someone from the train; they appear, then disappear. Sometimes there are many, sometimes just one alone. Sometimes they leave together. It's not easy to see them, as they drift in and out of the fog, and visibility is bad.
They cannot hear them, or interact at all. They can only watch as more of their fellow Voidtreckers appear, vanish, appear again. The doors will not open, the train remains silent, clearly dealing with whatever problems it has ran into.
It's clear that something has gone very, very wrong.
A SWIRL OF REALITY.
The constant entering and exiting of the void takes its toll eventually. Sleep is harder to come by, there's a general sense of disorientation as the train moves in and out of void space. It is more than just their bodies that are being bashed around, it is their minds as well.Tempers might peak or emotions might come on stronger than they usually would. Adding in the stress of the situation, and the knowledge that those who left seem to be returning, leaving, and returning again to the platform, and passengers are unable to call out or reach to them, it's a very tense few days.
When they do sleep, their dreams are plagued by weird dreams. Not always bad, but bizarre for sure. Often they dream a dream that is not theirs.
OOC NOTES
OOC post. Ask questions here.
This is the first half of February's event. It will last between Poi 22-25 (12th to 19th February). The second half of the event will go up during 20th to 25th February (Poi 26-28) where those left behind will rescue those out world hopping.
Feel free to play out threads for as long as you like, of course! A few details:
This is the first half of February's event. It will last between Poi 22-25 (12th to 19th February). The second half of the event will go up during 20th to 25th February (Poi 26-28) where those left behind will rescue those out world hopping.
Feel free to play out threads for as long as you like, of course! A few details:
- The train will not be responding after its first attempt to leave the station
- No matter what, the doors won't open.
- Though they can see the voidtreckers outside, those outside don't seem to be able to see them through the windows and so communication between the two groups will not be possible.
- Likewise their SCA comms are not working during this event.
no subject
"Hey-- hey." His tone is soothing, gentle; carefully, carefully judging the reaction, as he open his arms and reaches out to the blond, a little forwards in the offered hug because he doesn't think Tidus would let it happen if he has to do anything but stand there and accept it. Even his offer is delicate and gentle, but he tries to give Tidus some privacy to his emotions with having his chin reach over the other's shoulder, hopefully.
'Dians, 'Dians, it hurts. The absence, the lack of closure. It might be shock that is keeping Esteban's head afloat into all this, or maybe he's using Tidus to distract himself from his own wounds. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because he can't-- he knows he can't leave things hanging like this. He doesn't know what he can do, he doesn't know what he'll do. But if he has to fight all twelve of the God Eaters himself to spare the pain that had hounded Esteban for four, long, stupid years, he will.
He will.
All he needs, is a plan.
"Hey," another soft sound, hushed, despite his determination. "It's not the first time the train fucked shit up, isn't it?" he tries, because really, really, he needs Tidus right now, even if they're both hurting, even if they're both suffering from this.
"And you've managed through it." It's harder to get the name out, but he does it anyways, pushes it through a strangled throat that barely lets him breathe. "Inigo has managed through it." He doesn't say the next words, even if he thinks them. It's going to be okay.
"You just need to hang on. Just a little longer." Esteban will fix it.
Esteban will fight whatever fight he has to go through, whatever demon is twisting this reality in such a way because he cannot, cannot let his friends suffer like this, and if he has to give away his sanity, if he has to give away his mortality, if he has to give away his hoard or his wings, or his soul, he will do it in a heartbeat, because this is better, this is better than whatever comes ahead if he stands back and does nothing.
He'd always known he was doomed to a Butterfly's Death, but he will take it a hundred times over, if Inigo and Tidus do not need to suffer through this.
"I promise," he swears. "Just hang on a little longer."
Because now? Now Esteban has a train to talk to. And he will fix things.
No matter the cost.
no subject
Maybe it's the reassurance. Maybe it's his heart and head both heavier with Inigo in them, his flowers and insecurities, and how useless he feels to fix any of this. The pain that's been gnawing the other guy for his entire life, a train that will never, never listen to them.
His throat tightens, painful, as his lungs become weighted, as he lets himself be embraced and his gaze somewhere off; not focused, not seeing. Fingers balled into fists, but a gesture to fight back the welling emotion in him that's harder to handle than throwing around his anger.
He admits, after a quiet second or so:
"I don't want it to leave them. But it keeps trying." And that's what scares him, what worries him the most. "We're right here," they're right there, "but- it's always like this. There's nothing we can ever do to help ourselves."
And this just reinforces it, all over: that for the moves the train has been making to speak back to them, they're still just trapped to its whims, unable to do anything. Saving themselves? They never had a chance.
no subject
Even Esteban is finding it hard to gather the required benefit of doubt at this point, that the train might deserve a second (third, fourth, xth) chance to do things right, but he does want to try. He wants to see how far this can go. Wants to stretch his hand out and hope that the train will reach back.
It has a mind. It has a soul, doesn't it?
"Do you know if there's a way to talk to it directly?" He will try. As hard as he can. "Not through the ICPs." Tidus has most certainly seen that this is not working. In Esteban's worry, his tone is sharper, and more pronounced. More careful with the words that he picks to speak.
no subject
"A way? ... I mean..." Tidus trails, pauses. He knows of something, but... "People...used to try talking to it in the store room. People who can do telepathy, that kinda thing. They said... it felt like it was listening. But it never talked back."
So, what difference it made...
no subject
"Like, because it's on a different plane, it can't talk back to us easily?" What sort of plane would the soul of a train inhabit? It doesn't feel like falling into a dream is going to work for this.
no subject
"I figured... it doesn't know how to talk. I mean- back when she did it. The person." Really, there were quite a few people, but. "But it said recent it had to download something to talk to us better, so..."
He has nowhere to take that, sighs and shakes his head. Pulls always a little now, colour on his cheeks and a sheepishness on his face.
"But it's there. Nita - she was here before. She was doing her thing with it, and I sent the train a message on the ICP, and she said it seemed to take notice when I did."
So. It did pay attention to that.
no subject
"Is there-- could we manage to-- Send? Someone? Through an ICP?" Listen, it's not something Esteban is familiar with; his understanding of technology is directly proportional to his interest in it, and he really couldn't care less about the ICPs themselves. He hadn't bothered to learn much from them, and now, it's biting him in the butt, but he'll try to follow with any information Tidus may have.
no subject
"There was one person, but-- she's not here anymore." Could she have? Is that what he means? He makes a sound, baffled, looks at Esteban again.
"What are you trying to do?"
no subject
"Y' get a back an' forth, but everythin's messed up." Does the train understand their desperation? Does it-- they-- do they understand how scared their passengers are right now? How desperate?
"But if you move into the same room..." If Esteban can manage to meet it face-to-face... He wants to help Tidus. He wants to help Inigo. He... he wants to help the train too-- if they're struggling like their passengers are struggling... they shouldn't have to shoulder it alone. Esteban isn't sure what he can do to help a sentient train with its current displacement problems... but he can certainly try.
"'F anythin', we could tell it there's people on the wrong side of the doors. And stuck on the platform. Directly. Try to fix it." Frustration has him rip both hands through the strands at the back of his head, nervous and scared, but determined. He has to try. As best he can.
no subject
But he doesn't want to discourage Esteban. Doesn't have it in him to encourage him either, but there's only one option he can think of for the guy to take. If he really wants to try there, or find out if it'll work-
"Seto," Tidus starts, then has to take a breath, start again. "--Seto's the guy who knows about machines. Talk to him - he's the only one around right now I can think about. He can help you."
He'll give him at least that lead. There's nothing else Tidus can offer him than the other guy.
Fade to black?
"I'll go an' get him later." For now, he tugs at Tidus again, and starts heading off towards the kitchen. "When's the last time you had water?" he asks, but he's fairly sure the only answer would be 'too long ago.' He's not much of a mothering type, usually, and he won't force feed Tidus in this state (he doubts that the blond would allow it anyways), but three days is enough for dehydration to set in, and that can get dangerous fast.
Seeing as he reacted so strongly to the flowerbed, well. Esteban is just trying to drag him away at that point. With something. Anything. He'll come back to this-- later.