voidtreckerexpress | Intro: Into the Void

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Intro: Into the Void

On the Platform

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 ten people all facing the tracks, all wearing similar clothing. 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 security gate. 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.

Boarding, it seems, is the only option.

The Train

A horn sounds and anyone not on the train will feed the need to board immediately. The train is empty. But it seems ready for you. The stores are full of food, the carriages are all clean. Every screen on the train is showing the same message.

The luggage carriage, strangely, seems full of luggage. Or at least the cases. Suitcases, bags, trunks. All empty. But it at least will make good storage for your own bags once you have unpacked.

Carriages

Just like the message reads, your ticket is required to enter your cabin. The names are written on screens outside each cabin but once you are inside bed choice seems to be up to you. It might mean there is a fight for the top bunk.

Room is right 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 find a pillow for each bed as well as extra blankets, in case it gets cold.

Departure

A second horn, to encourage any stragglers to enter and then the doors slide shut. It seems, for good or for ill you are riding this train to… wherever it is going.

"Welcome aboard, passengers of the Voidtrecker Express." A female-coded artificial sounding voice echoes throughout the train. The train begins to move, shuddering along the tracks, fog obscuring the view from the windows.

"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 tilts, the movement changes. It seems, as impossible as it might seem to some, that this train is flying.

"Entrance into Voidspace imminent. New passengers are advised to remain seated."
A shudder runs through the train. A lurch to the left, a jolt to right, the feeling of going far too fast and then a flash, bright colours that are almost 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 multicoloured ever shifting void.

Your journey has begun.

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Tony's face lights with recognition at the name. "You're Sarai's husband, right?" This immediately made this giant man an ally, which he was grateful for. From the looks of him, Tony didn't want to rub him the wrong way.

"The white beard with the dark skin, nice combo," he quips, with a bit of a grin. "Did you coordinate that or is it part of your race like her black stripes?" He's so trying to be funny here, but it was awkward after having to be helped off the floor, so he had a feeling he was failing at this.

Dread immediately perked up at the mention of his wife, a smile transforming him and going miles towards lessening that "ominous tower of doom" thing he had going on.

"That's natural," he said, brushing one hand through it. "Unlike Sara, I don't change my hairstyle and color every third day. One of us has to stay consistent."

That had clearly been the right move to make. Tony relaxes as he watches Dread's demeanor change into almost a completely different person. Even the joke about his hair seemed to have landed well too.

"I'm pretty sure if I told anyone my wife was dying her hair, I'd get a smelly, old boot for dinner. But then, yours seems much nicer than mine." The tone speaks of how much affection there really was between them, even if the words might make someone doubtful.

"I can cook too," Dread said, chuckling again. "And she's quite obvious about it. Hair doesn't change from purple to red to green every few days on its own, even in Eorzea. I think that may be the thing she misses most here."

Tony laughs, though the sound isn't quite as full as his normal one. He was tired and sore still. However, he was adding Dread to the list of names of who he liked on this train. The man looked intimidating, especially when you were prone on the floor, but that wasn't who he apparently was underneath.

"What, hair dye? We can do something about that. There's got to be some cleaning supplies and probably some items in the kitchen we can put together to make something work for her." It might not be perfect, but he was fairly sure he could find something that wouldn't erode her hair as well as change the color.

"What about you? How are you handling all of this?"

The bulk of his answer came through in the brief rise and fall of his shoulders. This was downright tame compared to Omega's 'trials', or Castrum Meridianum, or really the vast majority of his life.

"It's much calmer than I'm used to."

"Calmer?" Getting kidnapped and put on a weird train was considered calm to this fellow? "Is it routine in your world to wake up in such a strange place against your will? If so, remind me not to visit there."

"Maybe not that specific thing. But no monsters, no wars, no primals..." That stuff was all coming, sure, but for the moment this was a remarkably sedate arrival.

"Alright, I can't argue that." He wasn't sure what a primal was, but he knew what the other two were. Although calm wasn't always the best thing. That old saying of calm before the storm goes through his mind. He doesn't have the energy for another storm.

"Besides helping people when they fall out of bed and being a lucky bastard to have Sarai as a wife, what else should I know about you?"

"Warrior of Light. Saved the world a few times, most of my life is spent in some sort of battle or another. So whatever is coming up, we can handle it." Dread balled one fist, the sigil that empowered his gloves briefly flaring in white-gold light on the back of his hand before he released the tension. That was the most important thing, after all. No doubt this train was headed straight for danger, danger that would take a pair of Thunderstorms to address.

Tony's eyebrows rise in surprise as Dread explains his purpose and a glowing fist to emphasis it. Huh, well, that was certainly useful to know.

"It might not look like it right now, but I have similar duties back home. We were mid-war when I arrived here." He watches as the light fades away and leans a littlle closer for a better view. "What are the other options than 'Light' in your world? How did you do that?"

"These are my weapons. Found them in my pack," he said with a mild shrug. Who knew why they were there when even his ordinary clothing wasn't? "Most pugilists use claws, punching daggers, blades, that sort of thing to help their blows land through armor and hit harder. These gloves are imbued with a power that does much the same."

Dread slid one foot back and dropped into a ready stance, lifting his fists by way of demonstration. Both gloves flared to life then.

Magic gloves, huh. He was starting a list on what people brought with them, so he makes a mental note to add those. He wasn't all that sure what the weapons could do besides shimmer, but he would error on caution and say those were potent.

The stance was particularly interesting. "A boxer, huh? That could be extremely helpful to have on board if we run into any trouble."

"A monk," Dread corrected gently. "Between Sarai and myself, there'll be no danger to anyone here."

That had been literally true all throughout Eorzea. Nothing had stood against one, the other, or both of them together, no matter how dreadful it might be. That was the gift of the Blessing of Light.

The term used for boxer was a monk where Dread was from? Interesting. Monks were religious.. which probably explained the 'light' thing. Perhaps that was meant as piety or righteousness in the large man's culture.

There's a very mild irritation that this man was proclaiming he was the protector of the train's passengers when that normally would be Tony's duty. Of course, he'd just had to be helped off the floor so.. he couldn't argue much. Yet.

"Where would you guess we're going? It wouldn't surprise me if we were going somewhere dangerous." Like Hell.

Dread nodded. Inevitable danger had never been in doubt. Neither he nor Sarai was destined to know peace any time soon.

"The way it looks outside? Another shard. Another star." That darkened his frown. Was this some bizarre scheme of Omega's, some second plan when the first had failed?

"What's a shard?" Tony asks. He knew what it meant in his context but he had learned since coming aboard that people often had different references for things.

"It seems to me this is the train to the dead. Wherever that is."

"One of the thirteen reflections of our world."

Dread balled his hand into a fist, the better to feel the muscles tighten, the blood quicken.

"I don't think our aether has left our bodies... and there are no Voidsent here. Besides, why would a train take us there?"

"Because in my world, I should be dead right now." He wasn't sure what an aether was or Voidsent, but he debates leaving those terms alone for now.

He can't help himself. "Is aether like your soul or spirit energy? What is a Voidesent? You and your wife are full of terms I've never heard before. Our worlds must be quite different."

"The Void is a dark realm beyond Hydaelyn. It's home to creatures of darkness. And aether -- yes. You could call the aether of your being your soul." Dread turned his full attention on the man, a dark glitter in his eyes. "If yours survived death and reconstituted, that makes you alike to an Ascian."

'Hydaelyn being your planet or your universe?" Tony asks, continuing his game of 'twenty questions' with the big fellow who just helped him off the floor. He was enjoying learning all of these strange terms and places from the other passengers here, but it was harder if he couldn't find a way to link them back to his own experience.

"An Ascian?" Tony chuckles and shakes his head. "I don't know what that is either, but I highly doubt I was reconstituted. It feels more like I was taken straight from battle the very last instant I could've logically been alive. I'm not sure what that would happen or what that means for my world if I didn't get a chance to complete what I was doing."

"So who's the better fighter? You or Sarai?" He jokes.

"The planet." And the Mothercrystal, but saying that would just make things worse, wouldn't it?

The circumstances were still terribly suspicious, but Dread felt fairly confident that whatever this man was, he wasn't an Ascian. Perhaps treated the same as one, but not one.

"She is," Dread said almost immediately. No question of it. "If you have to get on the wrong side of one of us, take me every time."

Tony laughs outright at Dread's answer. That was perfect! It sounds so familiar to what he'd say about Pepper. Though funny, it does bring a wave of regret that he won't be seeing his wife again. Still, he tries to push that away and hold on to the humor.

"You're a smart husband."

Taking a deep breath, he looks down at the bunk he's sitting on. "As fun as this has been.. I'm still on the mend." Just saying that made him feel like he was a hundred years old. "But don't be a stranger."

"You'll be all right?" Just to be certain. He already had the impression that Tony wouldn't admit it if he were dropping dead as they spoke, but he had to ask nonetheless. If he were better at conjury, or astrology... but even if he was, he didn't have a staff or planisphere to channel aether through.

"Yes, fine. So unless you want to snuggle.." He's teasing of course. Please don't take him up on that offer, this bed was already small for a full grown man.

His swings up legs up onto the bed and folds his arms behind his head. It's the appearance of comfort while they both knew it was only for show. He was sore and run down. The more he jokes about his condition the less it worries him, but the concern was still there. Would he heal? How fast or slow? What part of this might be permanent?

He closes his eyes and just before Dread is out of earshot, he says, "Thank you."

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thebiggestguy - 2019-07-19 03:27 (UTC) - Expand

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