A new Platform [Intro post~ August]

[voidtreckermods]

For those on the Train

"Good morning passengers, it is day sixteen of the month of Apple." The train announces as always as everyone wakes up the morning of the sixteenth. "Due to your success on Hub World #5739 your team points have been updated on the system. The on train shop has unlocked new stock."

For those going to investigate it might seem like the boredom of the last two weeks will be alleviated a little. More so after a few hours when there is a second announcement.

"Shortly arriving into a designated void platform. Exit from void imminent."

By now they should know to hold on as the train jerks and jolts. There is only fog outside the windows but the train soon comes to a stop. The doors hiss open.

As they exit into the fog they may notice Hibiki exiting from the luggage carriage door. She hasn’t been seen since the Hub World and they might be forgiven for believing she stayed behind. But here she is, backpack on her back as she walks through the station. She heads no call, reacts to no words and cannot be stopped as she walks to the ticket barrier and disappears through it.

It is impossible to follow. But you soon may be distracted because this platform is far from empty.

For new arrivals

At first all you can see if steam. Billowing around you as you come to your senses. You are standing, in clothes that are not your own, styles you might not even recognise. You are carrying a rucksack on your back. For a moment it seems to just be you, alone in the white haze but then the steam begins to fade and you realise you aren’t alone.

The platform is not very large, but it hold twelve figures all facing the tracks, all wearing similar clothing, even if one of them is a spider. The tracks stretch left and right into steam, or perhaps fog. Nothing can be seen to either side. There is a wall around the platform and the only entrance is a ticket barrier. It cannot be open, nor do there seem to be any staff.

What there is, is a train. Jet black and gleaming where it stands on the rails.Voidtrecker Express is emblazoned in the engine in gold. There is a hiss as the doors slide open.

Out step a selection of people, wearing clothes just like yours.

The Train

The doors hiss open. Those from the train may encourage those on the platform to board. It’s not like there is 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 not be a good thing.

Once on the train there is plenty to explore. A new sleeper carriage has appeared as has a medical bay. Neither were there before those already on the train had disembarked to meet their new travelling companions.

Each ICP shows the same message. The food stores have been topped up with new fresh food, though it seems that eggs are still predominately on the menu.

New passengers will find their tickets allow them into their cabins. They may need to negotiate for beds, especially if they want a top bunk!

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 and you will hopefully find a pillow for your bed if it has not been nabbed by a roommate, there are also spare blankets for if it gets cold.

Departure

A second horn sounds to encourage any stragglers and the doors slide shut. Those who boarded two weeks ago will know what is coming next.

The train sets off, the fog obscuring the view 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."

Hopefully someone warns you that you really want to heed that warning because a moment later there is 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. The fog from the windows is gone now, replaced with a kaleidoscope of ever changing colours.

Welcome to voidspace.

Comments

[seawanderer]

Feanor's second son is horribly thin, easily seen even under the somewhat baggy clothes. It wouldn't take a genius to see Maglor is slowly Fading. And that's not even looking at the state of his hands, which he's tucked out of sight in pockets.

All he needs is a look in his father's eyes to know Feanor knows something of what happened after his death. The skin around his eyes and mouth tighten in strain, struggling to remain in control. He doesn't know if he wants to scream at his father. Or punch him. Or latch on and cling like the child he used to be.

He doesn't answer that smile, not quite trusting himself to let it not be bitter.

"How much were you shown?"

[tinkerheart]

If he screamed it would have been easier. So much easier. If he was angry, Feanor could be angry too. Maybe then he wouldn't need to face the fact that his son is but a shadow of his former self. So thin and frail.

Nothing is ever easy. He was never one to hesitate but right now he's at a loss. He sees the struggle and it breaks his heart. He wants to tear down that wall of self-control, to say he's sorry but the words seem so hollow, more than anything he wants his son back ... but does he even has the right to? After everything.

In the end, all he manages to do is answer the question.

"I have been kept well informed. Lord Namo has seen to that."

That he did. He spared him no detail. Many things can be said about Mandos but not that he's merciful. At least Feanor had no opportunity to see this side of him. He wouldn't just let him stay dead. He had to make sure Feanor had a very clear picture of what has befallen his kin as a consequence of his actions.

[seawanderer]

Anger is easy. But it's also part of what got them all into so much trouble. Maglor...has lived a lifetime doing the difficult and the near-impossible. Except for one thing.

He's not sure he can ever fully forgive his father, even though he knows he still loves him. Or at least the elf he'd been.

"And?" A hard edge inches into his voice, not betraying the very fine tremor or how fast his heart races as he hardly dares even to breath while he waits.

He doesn't really expect his proud father to ask forgiveness. Or to be sorry. But he gives Feanor the chance to say the words anyway.

[tinkerheart]

"It was horror."

Feanor looks away. He doesn't expect forgiveness. He doesn't expect anything. As much as he hates to admit it all those years, nay centuries, staring at the images of blood and death, and fire, all the suffering. They wore down even his relentless spirit.

"Kano, I..." Yes, he still blames the Valar. "I cannot change the past but..." He looks at his son again. "There was not a minute when I didn't hate the fact I cannot come to your aid."

There is a large part of that blame that lays only on him. No matter how skillful manipulator Morgoth was. Nor how stupidly blind the rest of the Valar were. In the end, those were his decisions. His stubborn pride and anger, no matter how justified. His own.

"Or regretted it ever came to this."

If only he had listened...

[seawanderer]

To be fair, Maglor also somewhat blames the Valar.

Feanor's words send a shudder through him. His father doesn't say anything he doesn't mean. He huddles into the hoodie, silent for a long few minutes as he stares. Some of the mask cracks, but he still doesn't let himself step closer.

He'd only crumble against his father.

His right hand aches fiercer, centering him enough to, for once, hold out and show the scarred palm, an angry red as if still fresh.

"What will you do now? Will you turn your back and leave again? Or stay?"

[tinkerheart]

Curse them until the end of times. Curse them until the foundation of the world crumble and break! Thrice ... a hundred, a thousand times curse them!

All that was but ash and cinders in him goes up in flames the moment he sees Maglor's hand. He knows what it is. He knows what left this mark and why it did.

Yet those same years that weighted him down with sorrow now give him some control over that fire that threatens to consume them both once again. So he does not shout out his curses to the wind as his older self would undoubtedly do.

"I'll stay."

He closes his son's mutilated hand in his own.

"As long as you want me to."

[seawanderer]

No. No more cursing or swearing Oaths. LOOK WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME.

Maglor sees the knowledge in his father's eyes when his hand is displayed. He knows he doesn't have to tell his father that this is one result of that thrice accursed Oath they'd all been made to swear a second time.

His hand trembles when Feanor says he'll stay as long as Maglor wants him to. His breath finally hitches and the touch sends him to his knees.

"Don't leave me again," he hisses, head bowed.

[tinkerheart]

Feanor is not fast enough to save his son from collapsing but he can at least help him get up. He gently guides Maglor to his feet, careful not to strain the injured hand.

"I won't."

But he's not letting him go just yet.

"As long as it is in my power, I won't"

[seawanderer]

Memories of his father doing much the same when he was a child flash through his mind. It's enough, along with the promise that's the best he knows he can get, that Maglor finally steps close enough to lean against his father.

"The fire can't have you again."

[tinkerheart]

Memories. From the good times. Before everything went down in flames. Before he set everything on fire.

As Maglor steps closer Feanor put his arms around him.

My boy

That's something he didn't expect, that he lost hope he'll be ever able to do. And yet here they are. He knows not by what grace this is happening or if this won't end with him blowing everything up again but he'll be damned if he lets this chance slip away.

"It won't. I won't let it. I promise."

[seawanderer]

He shudders before wrapping both arms around his father and clinging without even trying to pretend there isn't desperation in the grip. He tucks his face against his father's neck, feeling some of the sudden panic ease off.

Feanor won't have any trouble feeling just how thin this son of his has become. It almost no longer matters to Maglor though. His father already knows, in theory.

"I won't either."

[tinkerheart]

Having been told and to see for yourself. These are two entirely different things. To be so viscerally confronted with what he brought on his family. What he brought on his beloved son. To hold him here, his hröa barely clinging to the world, is both a bliss and a torment. How long is it since he was able to do this? How long they were separated? By time and distance, his foolish pride and anger. How long?

No word, nor sight, not even those he was allowed to speak to in the years of being locked up, nothing had an effect similar to this moment. Here, in the middle of the unknown, Feanor comes to a full realization of what exactly he has done. And it weighs him down.

There's a fire rising as all the accusations he's ever heard come back in a shrieking cacophony of voices fuelled by one emotion he has never felt before.

Guilt.

It would be so easy to succumb to it. To fall down this dark well and wallow in self-pity. That is exactly what he cannot do. What he won't do. So instead Feanor forces himself to smile. Maglor may not see it but he will hear it in his voice. That should be enough. For now.

"Right now I hope that train, or whatever it is, has a well-stocked pantry." Small things. As long as he's careful. "Because you're so light I could lift you with one hand."

[seawanderer]

Admittedly, there's a part of Maglor- a rather large part- that would be glad and join in on heaping blame on his father. But the rest has stopped caring who to blame and is just grateful for what little joy he can eek out in his joyless life. And if not joy, then at least to be useful in the fight against Morgoth and then Sauron. Self-care hasn't been a priority in centuries, enough that he's mostly forgotten it's a thing.

Feanor might feel the embarrassed blush his son is currently sporting at the comment. But there's something almost shy about it, too. Because his father still cares enough to notice such a thing and act on it, and so there's a small smile when Maglor pulls back. "I will try to eat..." Because Feanor wants him to.

[tinkerheart]

At this time, Feanor would not be able to say a word in his defense. It's not all his fault but the worst parts are. At least the worst parts from his perspective, even if that's a very narrow and selfish perspective.

Maglor can be embarrassed as much he wants to but it won't stop his father from fussing over him.

"I hope you do." Feanor says with a slight smile "Because I have a couple of ideas you might find interesting." At least one for starters. "If only I remember the recipes correctly."

Of course, he does.