A New Platform [Intro Post April!]

[voidtreckermods]

On the Train

Two days after they return from their mission they are awoken as usual "Good morning passengers, it is day sixteen of the month of Egret. The shop has been updated and points have been applied to passengers tickets."

Those that go to check the shop terminals will find they have indeed updated, with the option to buy larger items and also animals. The morning goes on until just after noon there is a second announcement.

"Shortly arriving into a designated void platform. Exit from void in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." A lurch and a jolt and they are soon surrounded by the fog that means they are at a platform. Though the fog is thick, thicker than usual perhaps, there are patches on sunlight shining through and it is pleasantly warm.

The doors open and the first few to disembark do so with rucksacks on, hoods pulled up, silent and almost blank faced. Cu Chulain, Dio Brando, Disreputable Dog, Heiji Hattori, Loki Maedhros, Maglor, Naruto, Thor, Tobias Fangor.

They walk to the barriers, show their tickets and disappear.

But on the platform itself there are once again new faces. All are stood, waiting for the train.

For New Passengers

At first all they can see is steam. Billowing around them as they come to their senses. They are standing, in clothes that are not their own, styles they might not even recognise. They are carrying a rucksack on their back. For a moment it seems to just be them, alone in the white haze but then as people begin to shift or call out it will become apparent they are not alone.

The platform is not large and it holds eighteen figures all facing the tracks, all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies. It's warm but foggy making it hard to see much, but there are clearer patches bathed in sunlight found across the platform. Both left and right the tracks disappear into the mist. 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 into the cold step a selection of people. Some are human, some are less so. They are wearing the same hoodie in one of the four colours, red, orange, blue and purple.

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. 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. The store rooms have been restocked with an abundance of onions, in case the passengers weren't bored of them yet.

Passengers who are not brand new will notice that the train has gotten yet longer again with a sixth sleeper cabin for new arrivals.

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. Veteran passengers know what will happen next, they may wish to brief their new companions.

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. 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. The fog from the windows is gone now, replaced with a kaleidoscope of ever changing colours.

Welcome to the Void!

Comments

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel wasn't sure what a centimeter was, but the cook seemed a pleasant sort, judging by the happy sounds he made as he cooked, so Glordindel cut the pieces based on the size of the ones the cook was making. A bare moment later, "Like this?" he asked, after cutting up the first, before starting on the others.

[thebetterweapon]

Creed looks over and nods. "Bout right." He says, scraping the garlic into the pot. He'd chopped that up earlier. Cooking from scratch is not something he gets to do a lot of with his lifestyle, so he always tries to do it whenever he can. Usually, he's got Logan underfoot, and Jubilee right behind.

[laurefindil]

The aromas were starting to really meld and build a pleasing scent. As Glorfindel made quick work of the remaining vegetables, he made a mental note to get his hands on a whetstone. "These knives, could use a little attention," he said diplomatically. One didn't just insult a cook, after all. But he did not get the impression that the kitchen belonged to this cook, just that the cook was making quite excellent use of it. "What next?" he asked. The three vegetables he'd been tasked with were all in their neat little piles.

[thebetterweapon]

Creed chuckles. "Noticed that myself. Gonna have to spend an afternoon working with them." Not that he'd mind. It's nice and zen, actually. And the sound of steel on stone reminds him of his husband sharpening a katana.

"Here, dump them in the fry pan." He points with a knife. "Just sweat 'em a little. Don't cook 'em too much. They'll go in the sauce next." He wishes he had some sort of pork to go in the sauce, but he doesn't know the people's diets on the train and isn't going to insult anyone, if he can help it.

[laurefindil]

The frypan Glorfindel recognized, though the stove it sat on did not look like the kind he was familiar with. There was no fire, for a start. But the pan was hot, so he dumped the vegetables in and kept them moving in the pan so they wouldn't burn.

Perhaps later he would find a whetstone and help. A dull knife was a disservice to all.

[thebetterweapon]

When the things in the frypan smell ready, he nods to the elf helping him, and points to the simmering stock pot. "Just dump 'em in there." He says, turning to find the lid. Time to let the sauce simmer for a while and meld, as his daughter puts it.

He washes and dries his hands, then offers one to the elf. "Name's Creed."

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel carefully dumped the vegetables into the larger pot, taking care not to splash. He stepped back and placed the pan near the wash basin, intending to let it cool before washing it.

At the offer of the other's hand, he brightened (literally), smiled, and shook the cook's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, my name is Glorfindel." He figured the man already figured out he was new here.

[thebetterweapon]

Yeah, new smell, new sound. Creed knows. "You an Elf?" He asks. It might sound gruff and more than a little forward, but Creed isn't that great at social graces at times.

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel nodded. "Similar to others on this train, yes. I am of the same ethnic grouping, though by my hair...well, to another elf it is obvious I have Vanyar blood, not just Noldor like the Feanorians." Creed reminded him a little of a dwarf he'd known. Just...much taller. "How do your people identify themselves?" he asked politely.

[thebetterweapon]

Creed chuckles, fangs fully on display. "Believe last time I spoke with someone, the King called me a 'right bastard'." He shrugs. "Mostly human, I guess. Just with a little somethin' extra." He'll explain that, if asked, but right now, he's got sauce to stir.

[laurefindil]

For some reason the other reminded Glorfindel strongly of Beorn. Especially the part about 'mostly human' and a 'right bastard.' "You sound like an interesting person," he said with a grin. "I look forward to getting to know you better."

"Anything else I can help with?"

[thebetterweapon]

Creed shakes his head. "Nah. Let's gather up the knives and get to work on them. The sauce has to simmer for a couple hours." He'd spied a couple of whetstones in one of the drawers. They can work on that while the sauce cooks.

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel nodded and started by washing the knives they'd used and drying them properly. Then he helped line up the rest of the knives. The only ones he didn't pull out were the butter spreaders. "Is there an oil in here we can use?"

[thebetterweapon]

"Top shelf of the pantry." He says, nodding to the proper drawer. He could really use a cigar now. A cigar, a fire, and sharpening knives. It'd be pretty damn close to home.

That thought makes him sigh. He misses his husband, and his daughter.

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel looked over at the sigh. "Something wrong?" he asked. He pulled out the oil and brought it back to the counter.

[thebetterweapon]

"Nah, just missin' home. My husband and I would smoke a cigar, sit at the fire and sharpen knives when we needed to." He says. "Our daughter would sit in front of the fire and draw while we do that." He shrugs. It's about as sentimental as he gets.

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel nodded. It was a most tranquil picture the other painted. "I'm afraid I cannot that much domestic bliss, just some help with the knives. How long have you been here?" he asked, curious.

[thebetterweapon]

He would argue the tranquil part, but he just doesn't have it in him. He does laugh at the domestic bliss comment though. "Daughter wouldn't say so." He says, finding a place to sit with the knives. "Me and my husband, we can be right bastards to each other and he's got a temper to match mine. Sometimes takes her mediatin' to get through to either of us." A drop of oil and he slowly draws the knife along the stone.

[laurefindil]

Glorfindel laughed and added a drop of oil to his own whetstone. "It takes all kinds. As long as there is love and understanding between two people, the rest is negotiable, right? Good thing you daughter is there to give you both what for, should you need it though."

He is (rightfully) picturing Creed's daughter being petite and feisty. His hands are doing all the work.

[thebetterweapon]

Creed slowly works the blade along the stone. "Hasn't always been that way. Sure, we got married a hundred plus years ago, but... a lot of the time, we fought until we screwed, then fought again." He sighs. "I don't miss those days, but I miss him."

Not that he doesn't miss his Princess too. "We don't do well apart for long periods. Especially when one of us is down, for whatever reason."

[laurefindil]

"And right now you are half wanting him to show up, and half not?" Glorfindel guessed. He sighed. "I wish I had what you do, to be honest, but I only know such loves from the stories of friends. You are a fortunate man to have found someone like him. Like them."

[thebetterweapon]

Creed chuckles. "Nah. Better he's at home with the Princess and Okoye looking after him. He did something stupid, and even if we get better, no reason to keep testing that." Creed's still a little put out about his husband.

He glances at the elf sitting with him. "Damned lucky and I know it." He says quietly. "It's why it's hard bein' here. I know.. I know he'd want me to help where I could, but being apart from him hurts."

[laurefindil]

"Something stupid? Why do I get the impression if he did show up, he'd be Purple?" Glorfindel asked with a small smile.

Glorfindel nodded. There was nothing he could say to change those facts, except lend an ear if the other wanted to talk. Or be a sparring partner, perhaps.

[thebetterweapon]

He snorts, checking the edge of the knife he's working on. "Probably, since I am. Although, knowing our luck, he'd be red with Stark." Meaning there'd be clashes and there's no Princess here to smooth things over. He really hopes neither of them show up.

[laurefindil]

[Since this is from a bit ago...]

"Who is Stark?" Glorfindel asked, curious.