voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post October]

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A New Platform [Intro Post October]

On the Train

"Good morning passengers, it is day sixteen of the month of Horsehoe. Points have been updated on the system and new stock is available."

They have indeed and everyone can spend the morning shopping. Those who have been on the train a while will be expecting the second announcement that comes a few hours later.

"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. The first thing they may notice is that this platform is inside a basic shelter, making it warmer than the last couple at least.

As usual the first to leave the train notice nothing as they walk silently, rucksacks on their backs, towards the barriers. Adora, Alex Hashimoto, Catra, Cloud Strife, Elizabeth Midford, Feanor, Gerome, Gladiolus Amicitia, Glimmer, Ifrit, Isabella D’Oro, Maru, Nari Reno, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Scorpia, Siobahn Chereshei, SXT-2, Tamamo-no-Mae, Tony Stark, Uta, Zidane Tribal

But on the platform itself there are many new faces. Wearing hoodies in all four colours in various states of confusion.

For New Passengers

At first all they can see is steam. Billowing around them as they come to their senses. The second thing they will notice is it is gloomy, even without the steam and fog. They are in a wooden building, open to the tracks on one side. It in a creaky shelter, cobwebs hang from the rafters and there is a peculiar whistle as wind finds its way through the cracks.

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 the steam begins to fade and they realise they aren’t alone.

The platform is not large and it holds nineteen figures all facing the tracks, all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies. 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 gloom step a selection of people. Some are human, some are less so. Most are wearing the same hoodie in one of the four colours, red, orange, blue and purple though some are sporting different clothes in a variety of styles.

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.

Indeed whereas usually there is plenty time for people to be met and brought slowly onto the train, the whistles blow a lot quicker this time, as if hurrying the passengers along.

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… teddy bear shaped luncheon meat being the main ingredient to be found. There are plenty of other staples.

A new carriage has been added, those that go to investigate will find a room full of lockers, designated as the Armoury. Even for passengers without weapons it is somewhere to secure possessions. There are instructions on how to use the lockers and enough for everyone to claim one.

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 over the noise of the hail stones to encourage any stragglers braving the snow 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!

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"Hey!" Can't a guy occasionally forget what he puts inside his magic tech? His hearing is still sharp, sharp enough to catch that little jab at him and honestly at his age, he's just about to reach fifty! That's nowhere near as old as some of the people or otherwise on this tra--

--Right. The paper. He clears his throat and looks over at what Tidus is reading. Pretty standard stuff and nothing he's not read before. After the teen makes some distinctions out loud, Roland thinks about why he brought this up in the first place. Returns to the floating idea that's not yet taken shape or form.

"We can tell the patterns of what jobs we'll get by now, sure. But if you think about it by utility, anyone could do everyone else's job. That's why we lend talented folks like you to go help Red, Blue. Conversely, warriors like Lightning would be just as effective in protecting villages and heading rescues if they had to." He sits back against the wall. Finally seeing a clearer image from where he began. "More than that, I wonder if the colors represent...a meaning. Like a sigil. A banner that represents the members it houses."

Roland makes a gesture to Tidus with a free hand. "Ever thought about it?"

The idea presented gets Tidus to squint as he thinks, wondering about it, mouth slanting the longer he takes.

"I mean... I guess. They do a job, and they're in that team for some reason." By some kind of factor. But even as he speaks and mulls over the thought, the tight-knitted draw of his face doesn't loosen with understanding. "But what? I don't get what it means. Taiki's in Red, but Taiki can't do anything that Red does. I've fought way more than him - and Inigo's fought way longer than me."

He looks at the paper, less to read it and more a place to turn to. "So- what is it?"

And he asks it out loud, but ponders it too as he does.

"I...don't know. I've been thinking about it in increments. But there's almost nothing overtly tying membership together apart from the tasks assigned on a mission." It's enough to get him to shake his head, running a hand through the loose strands of his hair until his ponytail settles nicely over his shoulder. His points are strong, giving room for thought. Maybe Taiki's in Red because Gyousou is there too, kirin and king intertwined inevitably? But that doesn't explain the children in Blue, does it? A giant concern that always lingers on missions.

"It can't just be that. There's always more."

Especially when you stop to consider the history behind it - teams and colors. What happened, presumably?, in the past and where they're on now. What were their options, anyway? Ordering books on Voidtrecker history? Or, even more hardworking -

Roland turns to Tidus again, eyes expressive. "Did you happen to see the last poll? Leading up to the new Library? It had 'clocks' as an option. I refuse to believe that was coincidence." The train got that suggestion from somewhere. Someone. Is that how it wants to communicate with its passengers, perhaps?

Please don't talk to him about clocks on the poll, it's still very sensitive.

Which means, there's a certain complicated expression now etched onto Tidus's face, as he has to deal with two beasts of Screw That Poll. ...or one of those, and the point Roland is trying to make.

"I mean... sure? I guess it takes the suggestions somewhere." Even if no one is going to vote for clocks-- "Isn't that the point of the post?"

To make Tidus miserable? Or something. He isn't actually sure half of time. Probably because most of the time now, he hasn't bothered to engage with it. Screw that poll.

He nods sagely, almost knowingly. A careful whisper as an assurance, muttered under his breath: "I voted for it." Not that it won and anyway he got him the clock regardless...Ahem.

"Yes. Exactly." Roland makes an open gesture, his hands suddenly come to life with palms up decisively, showing a point that might be compelling. "The implication is this train is sentient, right? Then is that where they listen? Are they actually picking what to address?"

"That's the big question, isn't it?" He sighs, spreading out his hands at the million gil question. "What gets asked for? What goes up for voting? What does it decide we want or need? It's not like we know what people ask for. Did people ask for more quiet rooms and medbay space? I think people wanted better than the gymnasium for training."

Which he thinks is a thing, and now that he's thinking about that... "And people were putting together flower beds around the train before the garden appeared - or the greenhouse. One of the two."

"If the train even does consider what we need. I imagine as void missionaries who're constantly being put to the test, they'd replenish more than just food in the pantry. Weapons still have to be bought at an exorbitant amount of points, and we don't even know what we have to do to earn it." He grows slightly more animated, hands also waving about in casual conversation though his frustrations on the clear lack of transparency on the matter is truly something to behold.

"Hm. I mean, I had an inkling the train's listening. But sometimes it feels like selective hearing." Roland quirks an eyebrow up, almost raising the volume of his sentence at that particular peak as if challenging the walls to talk back. "And if we're going by the flower bed to greenhouse example, does that mean we're going through the ringer next? We're being fitted for armaments. That's...not a good sign."

Coming from a discussion on war and world-ending violence, he doesn't even need to be explicit about how he feels regarding that; what it implies when you equip someone, readying them somehow. For what? They can only assume the worst.

Edited 2020-10-15 14:43 (UTC)

Tidus's eyes widen. "Wait - we can buy weapons now?"

Guess who hasn't been keeping track of the train shop as of late, let alone points or...anything else, for that matter. He's seen the armoury (hard not to, when you have to past through it), but- "How much are they?"

200 points? No-- that's ridiculous, even for the train.

Of course - he hasn't been out of his room. Well, Roland can't blame him. So he just answers right away, doesn't give him any slack for it. "We can. Eighty points a weapon. Ranged weapons will get a free round of ammunition upon purchase, but if it runs out, you have to buy ammo separately, if I'm not mistaken." He shrugs with some level of confidence, the Arms Band around his person more than a cute reassurance.

"Won't be a problem for me, but overall, it's expensive to put stuff in that Armory. If our job is to save worlds, they're definitely running a profit for it." Roland could almost roll his eyes, sounding too familiar from the kind of rackets the first world would have pulled.

Edited 2020-10-15 15:04 (UTC)

Tidus doesn't even bother whistling for that, even though it's expensive. Just lets out a startled scoff at the price, disbelief, but - figures. Sheesh!

"No one's gonna make that on their first mission. Does the train even get anything for points anyway?" Since Roland mentions profit, and that's where Tidus's mind goes, settling his weight back on his arms shifted slightly behind him. "Seems more like giving a dog a treat, you know?"

You can get this is you deserve it. What a laugh.

"Thank you! There we go!"

Listen, Roland doesn't usually get so riled up about things. And even when he does have to let out a little bit of that well-contained steam, it's still not as explosive as one might expect. Maybe just a pitch higher, a bit more energy now that he sort of sits up and away from the wall. It's that deep set furrowed brow that truly gives it away.

"Not only are we lost on how to earn points, so it makes it impossible to plan ahead no matter what you do, but we're being treated like we have to earn our tools to do the job too. What does the train get out of the points system if we're apparently on the run and disconnected from the void ministry anyway? To buy more things to add to the store, only to have it sold back to its passengers at an arbitrary cost? Ridiculous."

That last word he, Roland sits back against the wall again, shakes his head in so much Disapproval that you can imagine this is how he's probably like lecturing his own council back home.

Whoa Roland, don't lose yourself there. It's nice anyway to hear, Roland letting himself go and being exasperated, as tamed as it is in examples of being so. Nice to have company in one's misery.

But Tidus doesn't has his usual energy to match it, as close to it as he may sound. It's been a tiring day, and he sighs audibly, letting his shoulders slouch. The rest of him too.

"You've been a good prisoner. You earn a treat." A repeat, tired and droll. He sits up properly, just to let his arms and elbows slouch easier into his lap. "Welcome to the Voidtrecker Express."

"Glad to be here, I guess." He jokes back, resuming his position of folded arms against his chest, letting the steam percolate inwardly again. At least he knows on this, he shares exasperations with Tidus. But then Roland finds they've always been on the same wavelength when it comes to putting the passenger's needs first. They were captives regardless of how the story is being told to them, stripped of choice. The least the train could do was think of how to make their tasks easier.

But these were frustrations that needed to be saved for another time, and another place. Roland notices that slouch and that limpness and though they can't read the face of the colored clock just yet, he knows he may have overstayed his welcome already. But he is happy, still. The goal set about complete, the gifts given, and even a little bit more shared between them. His gratitude is overflowing.

The dark-haired man takes the book in his lap and off it disappears in the netherspaces of his Arms Band. Roland then turns to Tidus with a kind expression on his face, leaning even more forward as if trying to stand. "I should get going. Leave you to rest." A pat of Tidus's knee, twice, before he holds the edge of the upper bunk bed for support.

He is bad at approaching the topic again, but he tries to at least, sound more sincere than sheepish; ever too comfortable in keeping it in than letting his emotions get the better of him. Roland clears his throat inaudibly, before he says it, softly. "...Thank you."

For listening. For accepting.

Would he share that sentiment another day? Jokingly or not, Tidus doesn't give it much thought; a huff caught in his throat, dismissive in its intention. But he knows deep down, that there's been good in being here. A second chance... he believed it as that, once. When he didn't think about Zanarkand, the people whose loss now weigh on this conscience.

It's too selfish - for him to think about being happy about such circumstances. So he doesn't. Instead Tidus reads Roland's body language, the intention to leave in it before he speaks, and shuffles back some to give him room to move, a wider berth. It's not that late, but it's been an exhaustive day--or draining--regardless for him. What he'll do once Roland is gone, he doesn't know. But letting his mind rest wouldn't be so bad. Let himself decompress some for the rest of the day.

But with nothing but the pair of them -- or is it like that anymore, with Gibbs with them? …with Bambosh too? okay, a thought for another time -- he doesn't miss the delivery of the thanks. The deeper meaning that it speaks. Doesn't look at him for more than a glance, but he hums an acknowledge, humoured. A pause before he offers back-

"...I'm glad you got another chance, old man. Don't ruin it."

Roland only answers when he's stood again, a chuckle sent Tidus's way as he fixes his clothes. The words come to him naturally, he doesn't even think about it, fond as it sounds. "Right back at you, pro."

That they both got chances, in different ways, though Tidus may not be at that place yet where he's come to terms with an unexpected ending to his own story. And who says this has to be the end, anyway? Even if it was, even knowing what he does when the watch from Tidus's wrist comes off, Roland still believes. He will do it for now, for the both of them, if he must. With gladness.

And as that thought breaks off, there's something pushing at him. Compelling him to say it, because if Roland doesn't do it now, he might not get the chance. Might forget. Might not even be relevant anymore. He takes a slow turn to face Tidus again, hand on hip. Looks like he might hesitate on it, but shakes his head and takes the leap.

"Hibber-Gibber knows." Roland adds. "All our higgledies know the way. To Evermore." Of this, he is certain. They are connected through the godswind, the magic of the second world, and of the kingmaker that ties everything together like a knot in fate. What is he trying to say, as Roland suddenly realizes that it might not even be possible. That it might be a lofty promise; what does he know about magical dimensional logistics anyway?

He can't bring himself to stop, or care.

"Ask him, and he'll take you. When you find it, you'll know where you are. There's a big blue sea facing our kingdom, and old forests to the back." And if I'm not there anymore... "Tell 'em you're being vouched for by the Cheif Consul. And if they don't give you a free room at the castle, I'll have words."

He wouldn't even think to look at Roland, if not for the deliberate pause. Raising his chin for longer than a second, confusion sweeping his features for a good moment before he finally gets it. Once Roland explains even, and the man may see it, the look ready to remind what he's already told him. What either he doesn't understand, or refuses to acknowledge.

But -- it doesn't frustrate Tidus. He gets it, letting his head hang, but a smile on his voice, on his lips. "I appreciate it," he says, not unlike a guy humouring another. About the best he can do than letting him down a second time, or third. Even if-

"Hey, don't worry about it. Not all endings are bad endings." He looks back up at him, head tilted; his expression comfortable for an otherwise downer implication. "Remember?"

Don't worry about it, pops.

He takes a second longer, lingers a bit more than he should have, as if committing it to memory. The boy with blonde tousled hair and a lopsided grin; a walking dream, but one that Roland knows deep in his heart is no less real than the rest of the vagabonds on this train. He will remember. Roland always does. Come what may, be it the end or something else entirely.

He waves once, tips of his relaxed fingers against his temple.

"Take it easy, kid."

He takes off, the slow creak of the door leading to the hallway the only thing signaling Roland's leave. A lightness to his being that was not there before uplifts him all throughout the day.

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A New Platform [Intro Post October]

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