voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post March]

A New Platform [Intro Post March]

PLATFORM STOP: MONTH 17
(QUICKSAND)

BEFORE ARRIVAL

"Good morning Voidtreckers, it is day 1 of the month of Quicksand. Points have been updated on the system."
The voice of the Voidtrecker Express welcomes passengers at the same time as always, sometime after breakfast. With points updated, everyone can spend the morning shopping. Most people will be expecting the second announcement that comes a few hours later, as the colours of the void outside the windows blur more and more.

"Shortly arriving into a designated void platform. The weather is cold and damp. 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.

ON THE PLATFORM

1. THE ARRIVAL

At first, all your character can see is steam billowing around them as they come to their senses. But as their eyes adjust, they find themselves on a platform.
It is cold, a slush of ice and rain on the ground underneath their feet. It's not currently raining though. The platform is made of black cobbles, slippy under their feet, dark stone gates serving as barriers giving the impression of a severe and grim place.

They stand in clothes not their own, in a style they might not even recognise. They're carrying a rucksack on their person, and for a moment it seems to just be them, alone on this platform. Before the fog starts to subside, and they'll see they're one of eleven figures: all facing the tracks, and all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies, the latter in one of four colours. Purple, red, blue or orange.

But then there's a roaring sound to get their attention, and out from the fog arrives a train. A sleek black, it it reads The Voidtrecker Express in gold lettering on the side. Every one of the doors hiss as they open automatically, and out pours a strange assortment of people, over a hundred at least. Some are human, some less so, with a majority wearing the same hoodie of four colours as they do, though some sport outfits in a variety of styles.

The train doors close behind them, and the vehicle is cloaked in the same fog that hides the world beyond the platform. A group of people head towards the gates of the platform, their expressions blank and unaffected by their surroundings. Ansem, Connor, Curufin, Elle Days, Freddy Fazbear, Margulis, Murderbot, Potato, Vexen, Will Stanton and Yota They disappear through the barriers, but no one else can - all people can do is wait until the train re-emerges, finishing whatever changes it's making.

2. BOARDING THE TRAIN

After a short time, perhaps ten minutes or so, the fog clears and the doors hiss open again. Everyone will feel a pull when they do, a need to board, and those from the train may encourage new arrivals to board. This feeling grows into one of apprehension and turns worse the longer they stay off-board.

For those that do board, they may find themselves in a few different carriages, but most likely the standard coach. A row of seats sit available, with a few tables between each. More likely than not, some cookies have been set out with jugs of drink, and cups available for pouring.

For those that don't, however, they're likely to attract attention if they're spotted. And if that fails... an unfortunate end will await them.

3. DEPARTURE

Do a little exploring, if you will. But people will have half an hour total from the train's arrival before a second horn sounds, encouraging any stragglers taking advantage of the fresh air to board. After five minutes from this, the doors slide shut. Veteran passengers know what will happen next, but they may wish to brief their new companions.

The train begins to rumble with activity, and the platform starts to disappear into a fog as the voidcraft moves. A female-coded artificial voice echoes throughout the train.

"Welcome aboard, passengers of the Voidtrecker Express. 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.

ON THE TRAIN

1. EXPLORING

With nowhere to go but through the train's carriages, this is a good time for newcomers to explore. For veterans, it's back to your everyday life aboard the Voidtrecker Express.

¤ New arrivals will notice a screen and console in every carriage sharing the same message, and a stack of leaflets in holders by them offering further information to the curious (see 'Publications'). There are lavatories available on each carriage on one end, with another console with a deposit box under it at the other. This is the train shop.

¤ It'll take some time for newbies to figure out the layout, even if there's only two directions to go in. Go one end, and you'll find the food stores and washing utilities. This month's key ingredient is pineapple, and you're sure to bump into others curious about what's in the stock.

¤ Go to the other end, and you'll find the sleeper cabins. Plaques sit on the wall by each door with the names of their occupants, and one of these will be yours - hopefully, they'll figure out that swiping their ticket against the doorpad will open it up to them. 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.

¤ At the farthest end in this direction is the luggage carriage, where passengers who have bought items from the train shop will find their purchases. There are also medical kits for every one, each labelled with their full roster name. These are scattered around the luggage carriage in various suitcases and bags, but there's also a small fridge and kettle here with bottled water, for those who want a quiet drink.

For those of Purple team who go looking for their reward they will find simple boxes of cupcakes to share out. There's a cupcake for all of purple team, even the new arrivals, share in your new team's success!

2. ACTIVITIES

But of course, there's also everything in-between those two directions, and the people in them.

¤ Areas of note will be the training gym, where there's always regulars training to pass the time. There's a training board offering services, but maybe you'll find someone who catches your eye in here. Or even its gear?

¤ Is your character used to the appliances to be found in the kitchen? Depending on when your character wanders in, they may find someone testing out a recipe, preparing for lunch, or even dinner time.

¤ The library offers a quiet place, with a fair selection of books from fiction to non-fiction. Is your character interested in learning more about the void? Picking up an action or adventure book? Wow, there sure are a few magazines.

¤ There's also media to consume, from the games car, the cinema, to the arts carriage. Ever played a virtual reality game? Wanted to learn how to fly? Have you seen a screen of moving pictures? There's now documentaries to be found in the cinema's catalogues, from How To programming, Void-related topics, and sports.

3. REST AND SLEEP

¤ Time is difficult to track in the void, even with the few clocks around showing a 21 hour time. But the windows allowing a view of the kalediscope void will shift to a pitch black once the time reaches 12, and keep for the rest of the day.

¤ Breakfast, lunch, and dinner time is usually announced by whoever's cooking that day, and when. Sometimes it's decided by the team chores; other times, it's decided by who wants to be cooking.

¤ But sleep eventually comes to all, even if they don't want it to. When 21 hours have finally passed on the train, all passengers, whether they need sleep or not, will see black - only to start a new day in their cabin beds, with the sound of the train's automated voice greeting them with a 'Good morning' message.

NAVIGATION ~ GAMEPLAY ~ SETTING ~ CHARACTER INITIATIVES ~ QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Random indeed. A blind vessel of a Dark Lord certainly does not match most people’s idea of a “hero.” Rezo unknowingly mirrors Lioriley’s frown.

“Children? How many are there?” Rezo certainly doesn’t mind children, he’s taken care of them himself in the past. But because he has experience with them he knows damn well that they take work and attention that do not mesh well with hazardous situations.

(Although his idea of “children that are too young to be involved in danger” probably skews younger than Lioriley’s idea of “too young.”)

It certainly did. 'too young' to her was any human under twenty and any non-human under a hundred or so; or simply those inexperienced and unknowing of how cruel the world could be - who needed to be protected and shielded from it. Children.

"Mm. A handful, from what I have gathered. Plenty protect them, of course, but that certainly does not keep them entirely out of danger." She sighed, shook her head as if trying to dismiss the thoughts. "We should sit. The initial move into void space is...jarring." Rezo could probably shift just a bit and hit one of the empty seats with his staff if he tried.

Lioriley would probably throttle Rezo if she knew he’d let his fifteen year old great-grandson go on raids against bandit encampments, even if this was probably one of the lesser sins he’d committed against said grandson.

In a rather drier tone, Rezo asks, “Because it comes to them, or because they seek it out?” He has known children who fell into the latter category; arguably, he had been one.

Rezo cooperates with Lioriley's suggestion without complaint- he can tell there’s furniture on either side of the room, and it’s easy enough to feel out the edge of a bench and sit down. He keeps a hold of his staff, since it sounds like it might wind up clattering to the floor if he tried leaning it up against anything when this jolt comes.

Well she certainly wouldn't be happy about it, that was for sure.

"I cannot speak for any of them personally, but from what I have gathered they are at least unafraid of participating in the missions we are sent on. If they are given an option at all." She mostly knew of the younger children, and had met a few teens and young adults since her arrival. All of which seemed determined to aid when able to so, it stood to reason that the youngers may as well.

She followed, taking the seat beside him to continue their discussion. "I am sure you will meet some of them in time, should you care to venture about the train once we are steady again."

Options seem to be in short supply on board the train, aren’t they?

“I certainly can’t stay seated here forever, can I?” Rezo says lightly. “Yes, if I’m to stay here I’ll need to learn my way around. Although I’ve never heard of a train before so I have little idea what to expect.”

And speaking of expectations, he hears the door slide shut in the background, signifying the train is about to move. Lioriley will be able to see the confusion- and a touch of concern- when the train begins rumbling and a strange voice comes forth from the heavens. (?)

He doesn’t have time to ask Lioriley what an “Information and Communication point” is before the train starts tilting and the voice speaks again. Rezo takes careful hold of his staff and the armrest of his chair, and then the jolt hits.

It isn’t too bad, really, although it makes his staff rattle and Rezo himself lists to the left before quickly righting himself.

“I can see why you described it as jarring,” he remarks.

Speaking of, here was another one:

"Only until the train forced you to your quarters when the time came to sleep, otherwise I might say you could." She sighed, once again feeling bad for just throwing one thing after another at him. Someone had to do it though. "I was unfamiliar with such vessels as well. I can give you a proper description once we depart." just in time, too. Lioriley leaned back in her seat and glanced to Rezo, ready to move to steady him if necessary.

When all was said and done, she leaned chuckled softly at his response, tone still filled with genuine concern. "Are you all right?"

Edited 2022-03-03 22:14 (UTC)

Oh damn. Did he really look that undignified? But it’s not as if she’s in hysterics, and the gentle chuckling is a little more comfortable than the concern is.

“I appear to still be intact,” Rezo says. Really, he’s survived a great deal worse than a bit of voidcraft turbulence. A great, great deal worse, though he’d rather not bring it up. “And I can assume that, as the resident expert, you’ve suffered no damage either?”

She was more amused by the comment he had made, honestly. It's a good thing she warned him.

"That is good." Another soft laugh burbled from her lips. "Resident expert? Not hardly. But, yes, I am fine." Said assuredly, a gentle pat set upon his arm before it retracted again.

Then, a pause. Her eyes glanced - not for the first time - to the staff he held. It could have easily been used simply for navigating while blind, but it seemed a bit too nice for that alone. "Forgive me for presuming but - your staff. Are you a mage, by chance?" She had seen plenty use a similar focus.

This is something like the third time his arm has been touched today and it’s still something that gives him a moment of inward startlement. How long will it take of having a living body again before he can think nothing of it? But the laugh coaxes a slight smile out of him.

Ah. His staff. It’s not as presumptive a question as she seems to think. Rezo is aware the design is unusual for what might be a simple mobility device, and he nods.

“Yes. I’m a traveling priest.” Although it’s been a while since he’s properly done his work. The situation in Taforashia doesn’t feel like it ought to count.

Intrigued by the line of questioning, Rezo asks, “Are you perhaps a magic user as well?”

If he stuck around Lioriley for long and made no obvious indication that he disliked the idle, friendly touches, he would be feeling them fairly often. She was a very tactile woman.

"Oh!" A soft noise of excitement and obvious intrigue. Lioriley shifted in her seat, angled toward him with her gaze fixated on his face. Did it matter that he couldn't see her to hold eye contact for this conversation? Apparently not. He had her full attention though. "Indeed. I am an alchemist and a mender - mm. Water and ice magic, as well as healing. I oft forget most are not used to the names used in my homeland." She explained, her voice just a little higher in pitch with the excitement of speaking to another magic user. "How long have you been practicing as a priest? I know I should not assume based on appearance alone, but you seem quite young."

Rezo is likewise facing her fully by now, even if he can’t make eye contact- it’s not even conscious, it’s just genuinely easier to hear someone who you’re facing.

“We refer to that as shamanistic magic where I am from, with healing being subclassified as a kind of white magic.” He wants to add a bit about how alchemy is defined on his world, but Lioriley has more questions and he doesn’t want to talk over her.

Her statement that he seems ‘quite young’ takes him slightly aback. Not that he hasn’t heard people say as much before, but it’s still odd to think that people could mistake him for a young man.

(He has an idea of what he looks like- tall, maybe thirty, purplish hair and fair skin, he assumes an average-looking face based on how people react to him- although it's mostly a list of meaningless adjectives to him.)

“Let’s see…” A moment of quick mental subtraction. “Would you believe, ah, a little over a hundred years now? I’m far older than I look.”

Lioriley had made the mistake a few times of assuming those that looked human actually were. And that the rules of humans she knew did not necessarily apply to those from other worlds. Rezo looked young and human enough that if she were home, she might have mistaken him for just another Garsalian nobleman. Because no peasant could have a staff as nice as his - not unless it was stolen or handed down the family line somehow.

So it was surprising when he said a number far beyond what 'humans' survived to. She blinked. Paused - longer than she intended - and then caught herself. "So you are." She agreed. "I am unused to those that look so human aging into the hundreds."

Rezo’s expecting the pause to be a sign of disbelief on Lioriley’s part. But what she winds up saying takes him aback, and his expression goes blank. Even knowing that she probably didn’t mean anything by it, the phrasing- that he simply looks human- hits him, and there’s another awkward pause before he smiles and speaks.

“Well, I am human,” he says.

(Theoretically. He supposes having a Dark Lord embedded in your soul and sealed behind your eyes doesn’t technically disqualify one from human status.)

“It’s not uncommon for humans with a high mana capacity to have long lives. And I work with healing magic, which keeps myself in good health as well. Although it does have an unfortunate tendency to confuse people.”

"Hm." She hummed softly, surprised but not judgemental. Given the variety of worlds there seemed to be, it stood to reason that some may have humans more long-lived. His explanation certainly helped her understand the how and why better, too.

"Sounds almost akin to my own people." She said, propping her elbow on the arm rest and her chin in her palm. "Such strong attunements to magical energies can certainly have interesting effects."

Either she didn’t notice his hesitation or she’s polite enough not to comment on it; either way, Rezo isn’t going to linger on it if she isn’t.

Much more worthwhile to discuss the effects of magical energy and the different places they’re approaching the subject from. To start with:

“Who are your people?” he asks.

She was too polite to comment on a lot of things.

"Lunari." She said. Too used to people being able to see that she looked so non-human, she did not even consider that Rezo might clock her otherwise. "Mm. Are you familiar with Elves? They are the closest I can think to compare myself to - pointed ears, slender builds, but Lunari have skin tones of blue and purple and black, with leylines that we gain from magical places of power we are born upon. The elemental magic is infused with our bodies and gives us abilities similar to what you described."

Rezo’s expression grows faintly chagrined.

She’s an elf. And he had absolutely no idea. Of course. Something that would have been immediately obvious to anyone else, and he has been wholly oblivious. Does she think him a fool for his unawareness?

“I am sorry for not realizing,” he says. “Yes, I am somewhat familiar with Elves.” He’s met with them and their communities a handful of times throughout his life, as part of his endless pursuit for a cure. “The ones I have known had substantial talents, though I understand those come from the blood, rather than being infused from their place of birth.”

Substantial, although not enough to identify or cure the cause of his blindness; although even if they had known what his problem really was, of course they couldn’t have done anything.

Whatever response she anticipated, it certainly wasn't that. Lioriley's expression dropped, leylines dimmed, and though he could not see such physical changes, he could probably hear the sudden distress in her voice.

"Please do not apologize. You surely could not have known." Unless elves sounded distinctly different in his world, or he had happened to touch her ears or something. She wouldn't go and blame a blind man for not assuming he was talking to someone with elven features. "And I do not take any offence to it." Besides actually calling her an elf, given the differences between them and her own people. But she'd feel bad saying as much now - lest he feel worse about it.

She cleared her throat and tried to even her tone again. "Mm. Inherited magic, then? They must be quite powerful. Are there various schools of magic - and can anyone learn?"

Her reassurances, unfortunately, do little to improve his morale, especially now that it seems he’s distressed her. Of course he couldn’t have known, but almost anyone else could- and what other important things must he be missing?

But magic- magic is something he knows well, and Rezo is much more interested in leaping back onto the subject.

“Yes. There is shamanistic magic, which is divided into several subcategories, and black magic. Holy magic once existed too, although that was lost after the Kōma War a thousand years ago.”

Rezo’s tone has a touch of melancholy. Though he holds little respect for the shinzoku that holy magic is said to have been drawn from, all the knowledge and potential that must have been lost is a shame.

“But just about anyone who sets their mind to it can learn magic,” he continues. “Although each individual varies in how much magical energy they can gather at once. The Sorcerer’s Guild refers to this as ‘bucket capacity.’”

Was this going to be an endless circle of 'oh no sorry I didn't mean to upset you'? Maybe. But Lioriley would recover from her own distress soon enough thanks to the focus on a subject she knew very, very well.

Suddenly, Lioriley shifted in her seat, reaching down for her rucksack and pulling out one of the journals she had stuffed inside. The sound of fluttering pages soon heard afterwards, as well as the scratch of pen against paper. Taking notes, as she always did, when something new and exciting needed to be documented in case she (somehow) forgot. While she had it open she made sure to add Rezo to her own personal list of passengers - a back up, on the chance the train's roster was somehow inaccurate.

"Lost? Presuming said holy magic was intrinsically linked to some manner of deity - were they somehow destroyed in that war?" That's the only way she could imagine a whole class of magic could just be...lost.

[[ooc: also the name "Phytias Peninsula" is entirely made up by the mun for convenience's sake.]]

There’s a flicker of confusion on Rezo’s face, but the moment he recognizes the sound of rustling paper he immediately realizes Lioriley’s intent. He smiles approvingly, straightens, and settles properly into Full Professor Mode.

“That is correct,” Rezo says. “Holy magic draws upon the powers of the shinzoku, of which there were originally four. Aqualord Ragradia was killed during the Kōma War and the mazoku systematically destroyed their temples and slaughtered their priests, so few records remain. The mazoku also erected a barrier over the Phytias Peninsula which prevented not only physical passage to the rest of the world, but also kept out magical energies.

“The other three shinzoku may well be still alive somewhere, but the world outside of the peninsula… Well, it is essentially gone as far as we are concerned.”

His information is a little out of date, but Rezo doesn’t realize that; nobody kept him up on current events while he was stuck in a jar.

His explanation only garnered more questions, and while it seemed as if Rezo was inclined to indulge, she didn't want to bombard him so soon.

She did ask one though: "Was there a purpose to this destruction? Did they not approve of the magic, or wish to use it themselves somehow?" Okay maybe it was two.

It’s not a question- or set of questions- that he entirely expects, since anyone who knows about mazoku would know that they thrive on destruction just for its own sake. But Lioriley does not seem to be familiar with what Rezo is talking about, and the answer is actually a little more complex than that. So he folds his hands and continues to explain.

“While mazoku feed off of the negative emotions of other beings, the shinzoku feed off of the positive ones, and Aqualord Ragradia would have benefited from the devotion of their worshippers. Thus, eliminating their worshippers made it easier to defeat Aqualord themself.

“More to the point, however, is that the shinzoku and mazoku are inherently opposing forces. It is only natural for each side to try and destroy the other. They have fought since the beginning of the world, and they will continue to fight until the last days of the world.

“And the mortals caught in the middle simply have to muddle through somehow.”

Rezo’s tone is mostly scholarly, but he can’t quite keep a note of bitterness away from his tone by the end, there.

She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, nor how his world even worked. But he had her interest now, her pen fervently scratching along the pages of her journal to add in the information provided. Was she ever going to use it? Probably not, but that never stopped her from writing things down before. Besides — it was fun to compare the worlds she learned about with each other; see what the differences and similarities were.

"Ah." A soft noise of acknowledgement, to assure that he knew she was still listening (as if it was not already clear). She leaned toward him again, still taking notes even while only looking at the page every so often to make sure she still had room to write. "Such oft seems the way of powerful beings. They care little for those they trounce — especially of the mortal realm." a sigh; world-weary and all too familiar with the concept. "A shame such things transcend worlds so."

Her voice grows slightly closer, and Rezo half-expects her to pat his arm, in accompaniment to her sympathetic words. Perhaps his tone was too bitter; he hadn’t exactly meant to complain, but he’d been thinking about his own personal experience with the shinzoku and mazoku and his mood had shifted accordingly.

Doing his best to detach himself, Rezo continues.

“...One can understand their perspective. The mazoku ultimately desire the destruction of the world, while the shinzoku strive to stop them, and the fleeting lives of mortal people are nothing compared to the fate of the world. But still…”

He stops there.

“At any rate. It sounds as though your own world has its share of troubles as well.”

A New Platform [Intro Post March]

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/light cw for, uh, genocide, albeit in a vague, fantasy world context.

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