voidtreckerexpress | Event: Expulsion (Day 24)

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Event: Expulsion (Day 24)

"Good morning passengers, today is the twenty fourth day of the month of Apple." The morning announcement sounds as usual as dark turns to the ever shifting colours of the void outside the train windows. Some passengers may stir. It might be that they are an early riser or bad sleeper and get out of bed the moment the announcement wakes them or perhaps they roll over and go back to sleep.

Either way the morning rolls on for a few hours whatever they might be doing. Until a sudden judder runs through the train, followed quickly by another. Much like bad turbulence. Really bad turbulence. A third follows and there is a crackling sound before an alarm starts going off blaring loudly, the lights begin flashing red, white and red again.

"Warning. Void engines failing. Warning. Void engines failing. Warning Expulsion from void imminent." More shaking, worse each time, enough to knock them over and then a bang, the train plummets into darkness and lurches, sending everyone flying...

… They never crash land. Instead they float, suspended in the air. In the darkness it is hard to orient themselves or even understand what is happening. There’s a roar in their heads as pressure builds, their ears pop. "All systems critical." Breathing is hard, for one terrifying moment there seems to be no air to breathe.

"Oxygen levels stabilising." They can breathe, the pressure in their heads fades, their ears eventually stop ringing. "Pressure levels stabilising." They are still floating, suspended in darkness. "Gravity systems critical".

Emergency lighting flickers on finally, a red glow from either end of each carriage, in the cabins and along floor strips, enabling them to move without bumping into anything. If they can figure out how to move at all that is. Outside the windows is dark. Not the blackness of the void at night but the deep vastness of space. A few moments pass, enough time to just about process that fact before the voice over the speakers is heard once more.

"Passengers of the Voidtrecker express, due to technical issues we are currently experiencing void engine failure. Thank you for your patience as we endeavour to continue our journey as quickly as possible. We ask that all passengers help in securing the train for re-entry into the Void and on behalf of the Voidtrecker Express I apologise for any inconvenience caused."

Then there is silence. Broken only, no doubt, by the passengers on this now stranded train.

(OOC: Event information is here.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Where handkerchiefs were lacking, other supplies were in surplus! For example...Manabu, noticing his distaste with the scratch, fiddles through his pockets stuffed with random supplies to procure...a cotton ball. He shrugs and offers it anyway before making sure the rest of his pockets' contents didn't float away in the meanwhile.

"I dunno..." He grabs a pill bottle passing by. "I mean, I don't know what all a big iron suit's going to do when the lights go out, unless you had flashlights hiding in it.

"I guess I didn't get too far along to start expecting much of anything from anyone but myself, if I'm honest. And just cleaning up loose equipment doesn't really feel like a whole lot, you know? But someone has to, and it may as well be me since I'm here to do it."

Briefly, Manabu's toes scrape the floor, prompting him to kick away toward a cabinet to start putting his findings away.

"I think we should just do what we can, whether we expect each other to or not. Even if it means having to take a few minutes to remember what it feels like the last time we were in a ship in crisis-mode."

Cotton ball works! He presses it against his cut, wincing just a little at the pain. He presses a little harder too, glad to have something else to ground him in reality.

He listens as Manabu talks and he can't help admire how wise the young man was. He was quite sure he hadn't been that far along at Manabu's age. Of course, he'd been too busy partying and flaunting his mental prowess. It seemed more than a lifetime ago he was that arrogant, self-absorbed man who didn't have anything to believe in. While he was still arrogant and probably self-absorbed, he was also a dedicated defender of the world. That had to count for something.

Still, that leads him back to this curious SDF officer. "One would think five years ago would be enough time to recover from just about anything. I've never figured out why mental damage- mental wounds- take so long to heal."

So now what was there to do? His trembling was subsiding and he was left with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow an anxiety episode. He simply watches Manabu for a few more minutes before breaking the silence again. "Your father would be very proud of you, kid."

It's in that quiet that Manabu wonders on those words. How long does it take for a mind to heal from hurt? And is it really the mind? Again, he thinks of Bruce. For so long, so many years, he held on to the guilt and anguish of losing his first partner...an anguish he projected outwardly as anger at Manabu, fearful to lose again. He'd not understood where he was coming from at first -- Manabu is Manabu, not anyone else -- but...as time went on, as experiences gave him further insight, he started to get it.

People are themselves...but also reflections of other people, whether intentional or not. People's influences impress upon the heart like handprints in clay, and over time they harden, becoming permanent fixtures.

In that same way, experiences do the same. Good and bad ones, each one a particular impression. That means the bad...they're just as molded-in as all the rest.

He wonders if there's really any fixing that. It's what he wonders when Tony speaks up again, catching him off-guard. Manabu makes a soft, surprised sound, looking over his shoulder. Not a beat later, a heaviness settles in his chest and crawls up to squeeze at his throat. He swallows against it.

"Oh, I...I don't know." It takes a conscious effort to push a note of good humor into his voice. "I think he'd be exercising a bit more control of the situation than this, you know? He was a captain, after all..." He turns his head away, back to trying to keep trays of utensils in their shelves.

"I think by now, he'd have convinced who or...whatever's running the show to compromise, make a good-faith effort to lay their cards on the table and be straight with all of us. So we'd at least not be in the dark in this."

He hesitates, clearing his throat.

"...Figuratively and literally speaking," he tacks on lightly, shoulders shrugging up.

Tony sees that expression and he hears all the doubt in the young man's tone. He remembers all the hurt and anger he'd held on toward his father only to let it go a day or so before he came here. It had healed a huge portion of his heart in a way he never thought possible. As he watches another young man deal with something so similar, he can't help but feel a part of his own heart bleed for him. Why did it take so long for men like them to get something so simple?

"No. Look, I don't know your father personally, but I know what being a father is. And I haven't known you long, but I think I've seen enough to know a few things at least. A good father wants their kids to be good people. Sure, it's nice to have the accolades and perks of being a leader- a captain- or whatever. But I think if he saw you now, there wouldn't be anything but pride in who you are."

"Heh, jeez, Tony..."

Manabu laughs weakly, feeling a pulse of self-consciousness beat through his melancholy, making his face and ears heat up. It's always strange to talk so openly about hurt and feelings: Growing up, he understood being a soldier, an officer, and even a man meant holding one's self to such high standards, and that included keeping cool in any situation. It's how he idolized his father!

But it was a child's understanding of it. He'd not yet learned what it meant to really be a man -- to be able to laugh and cry with true companions, to understand that there was more to it all than a sharpshooter's eye and a good right hook. Mourning his father and brother had been mourning as a child...mourning Bruce had been mourning as a man.

He still has miles and years to go, but those losses humbled him.

Sure didn't make taking compliments gracefully any easier, though...

"Oh, I hope so," he puffs out, the laugh a bit easier in his breath. "And I'd like to help get this all sorted out before he has to somehow...I don't know, come out of the ether and fix it for me, you know? That'd be embarrassing!"

He clicks the cabinet closed, turning around and gripping the edge of the countertop to keep himself in place, grinning warmly Tony's way.

"I'm glad to get a good review, though! Even if you're kind of pulling overtime to do it, what with wearing yourself out and such. Don't overdo it, okay?"

Tony actually looks a bit embarrassed too. He hadn't meant to lay it on quite that thick. He rubs the back of his neck and wonders where all of that had come from. It didn't make it any less true just.. perhaps a little more chick flick-y than he would've liked.

"Sorry.. we can blame it on the drugs. How many of those did I take?" He honestly has no idea. He chuckles, not at anything in particular. "You want embarrassing try being a fifty year old who has to take sleeping pills every night so he doesn't wake the eleven year old girl with his nightmares. No that's embarrassation."

Tony blinks and replays that in his head. Something sounded a bit off. Sleeping pills, eleven year old.. was she really seven? He wasn't sure. He really could use a nap. Something distracts him as it floats by his face. He reaches for it and would lose his balance if gravity existed. Instead, he just wobbles for a moment before becoming airborne and a little disoriented. Whoa.. this was kind of fun. He crashes right into a floating chair. That wasn't fun.

"Little help here.. Rainbow."

"Geh-?!"

He does a double-take, caught up on that mention of pills before realizing he's just...drifting around like space debris. Jeez...!

With a faint note of exasperation, Manabu pushes off the counter to catch Tony under the arm, and the pair of them glide on...into that surgical curtain. He grabs one of the rings and uses that to slow them to a stop, making a face at Tony.

"Should I not have passed you any medicine at all?" he asks accusingly. "I was only sort-of serious about that overdoing-it comment, but are you really?"

What the hell was happening? Tony had no idea what Rainbow was talking about.

"Of course you should've given me medicine. That's what is it for, no? If you're sick. I'm not sick, am I?" Was he? He was really tired and couldn't seem to remember. "I think I need to lay down. You can come too Rainbow, but no cuddling. That'd be too weird. I don't know you that well."

"Rainbow?!" Manabu echoes, incredulous. He huffs, adjusting his hold and veers them over toward an examination table.

"Alright, well...you're not going to get much proper laying down with the gravity out." He makes a face, squinting. "I can strap you to a table if that makes you feel better."

Tony makes a face at that. He doesn't like the sound of getting strapped down. "I'm not into that. Not unless you're in a black leather bustier and.. I'm sorry, but I don't think you could pull that off." Even with that, he reaches out to help them hold on to the examination table since it was there and something solid.

He looks at Manabu with a completely blank stare and very randomly gives him a smooch on the forehead. "You're a good kid. You earn all your cheerios don't you?"

Edited 2019-08-17 18:20 (UTC)

Manabu looks rightfully baffled and irritated by the leather remark, one of his lower eyelids twitching. Yet even that wasn't enough to warn him for incoming, drug-addled forehead kisses, so all he has to go on there is impulse. The impulse today is to shove Tony so he can propel himself away, floating in recoil. Gross!!!

"What the hell kind of pills did you take?!" he exclaims. What the hell did I GIVE him...?!

"Whoa!" Tony goes tumbling off the table and continues till he hits the wall on the far side of the room. He was even more disoriented now than before. He also had no idea what was wrong with him.

Those had been Ativan right? He hadn't really looked. Also, he'd already been on something to sleep that should've been almost out of his system but not quite. He hadn't counted on such an early wake up call.

"Man-nana-nana..bow.. what's happening?" He grabs a hold of a hinge on a cabinet to stop the momentum from ricocheting off the wall back into the main area of the room. "You're not a very good doctor."

It should not be a thing where people just...just kiss you out of nowhere, and yet here's Manabu, tallying up two instances now. This is not a habit he wants to form, dammit!

He huffs, trying to keep from outwardly flustering about it, because a second look Tony's way shows this wasn't a very...er...sober circumstance. He grimaces.

"I'm not a doctor at all," he shoots back, stabilizing himself by grabbing a handful of privacy curtain. "You didn't have anything else in your system when you popped those pills, did you?"

Edited 2019-08-17 22:13 (UTC)

Tony watches Manabu for a moment and a lot of his humor fades. His expression takes on a much darker, sadder tone. He looks 'down' which was sort of off to the side technically. "No. I uh.. I had the sleep aids.. and.. oh my god.. I did it again, didn't I? I was just.. you were there and there was a good feeling and like we were friends and.. like with Buttercup. She got so mad because I hugged her. I didn't mean anything by it. She'd just give me a present and I was.. I don't know. She's so guarded, I thought we were like- making progress? Like, becoming friends? And.. now she hates me. I crossed a line I shouldn't have.. I'm not like that. I don't do that.. I just.. she reminded me of my daughter and you're like Peter.. but I shouldn't have.. "

He trails off, feeling a bit ill. He was a lot of things but crossing those particular lines had never been a part of who he was.

Manabu's eyes wince as Tony's talk spirals off to lamentations of the oversharing sort. Oh, god. He's drunk. Er...high? Drug-drunk? Is there a term for this he doesn't know? Maybe. Manabu has no idea; he just knows that when his pal David would get too far into his cups, laughing would turn to sighing, and then suddenly he's draped all over you all misty-eyed blubbering about the eternal bonds of manly friendship.

"I-it's fine, Tony, it's fine, just--" He looks around the remaining medicines and things floating about, trying to catch a quick glimpse at the offending blue jar, wherever it's gone. "Just as long as we're not burning your brain out, mixing medicines, okay? It's fine. I'm not mad."

...Well, he's a little mad. But not, like, taking it personally kind of mad. Just...this situation could've been avoided with a bit of light reading-mad.

Tony's mood had definitely tipped downward and he wasn't sure how to come back from it or if he was even supposed to. Everything he touched seemed to become destructive and bad. What if it had just taken him this long to realize he was actually the evil one? Maybe Buttercup had sensed it on him somehow.

Could evil be a scent? What would it smell like? He had completely forgotten Manabu was there as he semi-sat/ floated hanging on to the hinge. Maybe it was just better without him? Like, after whatever he does at home maybe it would improve without Iron Man? Maybe this train would be. Rainbow over there sure would be. Then he wouldn't get forehead smooch-saulted.

"Uhhh...Tony?"

Wow, he sure is...sulking over there, isn't he? It looks a bit goofy in zero-g, but it definitely comes with that moody, grim aura that Bruce used to have. Best not to let that fester too much; Manabu has no idea what he'd do if the man started crying or something! Think fast, Officer Yuuki.

"Toooonyyyy..." He stretches out the vowel sound for the length it takes to drift back over, turning in a lazy corkscrew motion as he goes. It means by the time he gets back, nearly bumping the man with the top of his head, he's facing the ceiling like a swimmer on his back.

He blinks up at him.

"Hey. Did you zone out? You went all quiet and broody." He flashes a peace sign. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Hearing his name, it sadly helped that it was drawn out like that, his gaze slowly shifts to the man coming towards him. It takes a moment of watching before he even recognizes the fact Manabu is going to collide with him and even longer to do anything about it. He puts out a hand to catch him before he gets headbutted (lightly).

The question though has him sighing. He supposes 'zone out' was as accurate a phrase as any. He looks kind of annoyed at being asked about the fingers, but the annoyance quickly turns more frustrated when he keeps staring at those fingers and.. "I uh.. will you hold still?" He grabs Manabu's hand and continues to stare. Were there two? Four? He blinks and can't figure it out. "What's going on with me?"

...Yeah, that's not a great sign. Manabu frowns with growing worry as Tony struggles with what he'd thought was an easy, somewhat childish action.

"Maybe we should...actually get you checked out. In case you took something weird on accident. We're already in the medbay, after all..."

"I don't know.. what does it take to make good intentions become evil deeds?" Tony asks, ignoring completely what the young man had just said. "Like if you intend to be helpful but it's damning the person you're helping.. what does that make you?"

He definitely either took something weird or is having a weird reaction to it. "What if we crawled around in the floor to get to the engine?"

Manabu blinks.

"Uh."

If he's honest, that's something he's considered before. The drop-floors were spacious enough despite the piping, right? But hearing it from addle-brained Tony right now makes it sounds like a not-so-great idea. Funny, that.

So, yeah. Maybe just...see if there's something in this car that can help the guy get his wits back? Maybe test his blood pressure...with...the device that needs power to run. Or maybe a brain scan! ...With the machine that needs power to run.

Dammit.

Still floating upside-down, Manabu writhes so he can tilt on one side and peer past the curtain at the other side of the room. More floating swabs and packages of gauze, countertops, a sink...

Hey--

"Hey, uh--why don't we get you some water? Maybe, uh, wash some of this stuff out of your system? Yeah?" That's how it works, right? Yuki used to remind the crew to hydrate all the time, so maybe that's why?

Tony looks down at the floor, wondering how they had gotten to boards up last time. Why weren't the panels just floating away like everything else? Bad floors!

His attention goes back to Manabu when he starts talking. "Uh.. sure. How is it going to stay in the cup? Or.. is there a cup? Ever wonder how you pee in space? Or god forbid, the other thing."

"There's...methods for that," Manabu replies slowly, his tone flattening. Good god, he hadn't thought about that. He's trapped in a train full of passengers who have zero space-based travel experience that involves that much; someone's inevitably going to be making a mess...

"But don't worry about that right now, okay? I'm going to grab a bottle-- that's the easiest. So just, just sit tight for a second, yeah? I just gotta run to the kitchen car."

"Methods for.. peeing?" Tony asks, looking highly amused at this idea. He was working on thinking up his next joke when Manabu says he's going to leave to get water.

There was some apprehension in the idea of being alone again, but he didn't say anything about it. "Sure. You go do that. I'll wait here." Maybe. He might find something else to do or sees something shiny. Perhaps he'll try that nap thing.

If he were to stop and think about it, this really isn't the weirdest thing to happen aboard a train in crisis, right? No plant-based alien invaders, no vending machines rigged to explosives, no ghosts...

Yeah. This is probably fine!

Granted, he'd love to be able to meet up with Lightning to problem-solve about that engine, but...but not without Tony being of securely sound mind first.

"Alright, Mr. Stark, here's some water. Let's see if we can't...uh..."

Returning to the car yields a whole lot of no Tonys. Manabu trails off mid-statement, frowning at the empty spaces ahead of him.

God. He didn't go off and try that bathroom stuff already, did he?!

"Tony? Toooonyyyy..."

Manabu tries to keep his search rather discreet for both their sakes; he's not sure he's ready to share with the class about how he might've had a hand in drugging Tony the hell up, with him either twirling around like a drunk squirrel or worse if the chemicals reacted badly on a longer timer. So he keeps his calls relegated to the spaces he's apt to poking his head in...

Those spaces are toilets. He just has to be sure.

But also, considering what Tony was on about -- engines and floors and whatnot -- he makes his way back up to the first sleeper car, propelling forward with use of the overhead rails.

"Tony? You in here, buddy?"

Event: Expulsion (Day 24)

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