voidtreckerexpress | Echoes in a Void

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Echoes in a Void

"Good morning passengers, today is day twenty of the month of Horseshoe." The day begins normally at least. Passengers wake in their bed, perhaps get up, begin to start their morning.

It is perhaps less than an hour after waking that the first problems occur, turbulence making the train shake and roll. It's not quite bad enough to throw most sure footed passengers off their feet, but it is not very pleasant. Anyone near the window will notice the void looks different. The colours are bolder and shift more violently than usual.

"Passengers of the Voidtrecker Express, please brace yourselves for a Voidstorm." The announcement is not that useful, but a moment later the ICPs all show a message.

The void continues to shift and swirl, violent and mesmerising.

Outside

It might be that the strange effects of the void draw them to the windows, or it might be that they hear a voice. A friend, a lover, a mother. Calling them. Soft and sweet, high and playful.

Join us. It's tempting, faces show in the void outside, pleading and cajoling. Passengers might even see places, a home, a land long lost. Just outside, not out of reach at all. All they have to do is join them, enter the chaos of the void. Or at least stay close, watch through the windows, stare into the void...

Inside

The shapes outside the train are not the worrying thing, as the storm progresses people will start noticing that the train seems fuller than usual. An empty carriage becomes full in a moment, people eating and playing or reading. A friend passengers thought long gone walking down the corridor towards them. Or perhaps it is not a voidtrecker that they know, but a stranger in uniform going about their business, seemingly normal until they pass through them, leaving them chilled and weak.

They gravitate towards those who are alone, following them, gathering around them, sapping them of energy.

Safety in Numbers

Sticking together is the safest course of action. Being together, physical contact or just shared activities will make the echoes leave them alone. Start a game, encourage a beanbag reading circle. Anything to keep people distracted and together.

Stay strong, Voidtreckers, the storm shall soon pass.

(OOC: Here is the ooc information for this event. This post can be used as a catch all, or you can start your own posts set during this time.)

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i. initial reaction

[Enna is an experienced sailor- When she hears 'storm', she's already fearing the worst, and getting ready to rush around to repair the train on the fly. But then, nothing seems to happen... Except a voice, calling her to the windows...

Enna knows the tales, of course. Spirits of the sea that will lure sailors to their deaths. Enna promptly covers her ears and starts running towards another room.]

ii. safety measures

[Enna knows that this is bad news. She doesn't know what this is, but she knows it's bad. So, she's coordinating with anyone else who seems to be less affected, like she is, and she's running around the train.

If your character is stuck staring out the window, Enna will try to pull them away. If that fails... She will try to get them in a headlock and drag them away by the neck. She's going to be taking people to the windowless carriages- Gym, armory, kitchen, etc- And shoving them inside, before propping something against the door as a makeshift barricade to lock people inside.

You can either try to stop her from shoving people in, or be dragged, or better yet, help her out.]

[a; train; howling ghosts they reappear]

[The professor wasn't stupid, and he knew things like hypnosis and illusion when he saw them. Usually. He certainly understood enough to know something was very decidedly not right at the moment.]

[On the other hand, it was easier than it should have been to rattle him, stopping in his tracks somewhere around the library as he stared in complete shock and confusion at the echo of a teenager in orange; a phantom clutching a book to his chest and speaking to someone indistinct with the telltale frown of a smartmouthed kid explaining something obvious.]

[But this one was far stranger than any other phantom, at least to him specifically.]

Does...anyone else see that one?

[b; v o i d; in mountains that are stacked with fear]

[This was getting dire. Either it was a wide-scale hallucination, or something a touch more nefarious. Waver frowned as concentration as he considered the possibilities and potential solutions; he was well out of practice with hypnosis magecraft himself, and couldn't use it on an entire train one by one to knock them out of this. Not to mention he didn't know how to hypnotize himself-]

['If you can not fight on the terms of others, make them fight on your own.']

[He nearly tripped over his own feet with how abruptly he'd stopped walking at the sound of that voice, gaze snapping to the window. Beyond it was a scene discernible as Waver--the young teenager that had once been seen on the train--speaking with a man in armor, the latter smiling brightly as he spoke, clearly with an air of confidence in whatever words were exchanged.]

That's not-...that can't be.

[Impossible. Impossible beyond impossibility, even for a place like this. But did it matter, when his own senses were telling him 'impossible' was right in front of him? Waver himself half scrambled to the window, instantly forgetting any idea of illusion or hypnosis; none of it mattered to him right now. Logic had flown clear into the void for a moment.]

Lancer? [It wasn't real. It wasn't real, it wasn't real, and yet the voice ringing in his head like a long-broken spirit link was as clear now as it had been a decade before.] Is that really-? Answer me, damn it...Diarmuid--!

[Whatever voice echoed in his head now in response to that desperate call, Waver wore a look somewhere between furious and brokenhearted, closing his eyes tightly against the start of an oncoming headache. Common sense struggling to take priority in his mind again, Waver staggered away from the window a couple of steps. His right hand--and the faint scars in a strange shape upon it--white-knuckled on the handle of his cane, he looked back at the window only to scowl in pained frustration and mutter under his breath at the tranquil scene still unfolding before him.]

It's not real. It's not. He's not-...

Senku did not know what a voidstorm was, and so he didn't really have his guard up, he was just moving about his day as normal.

Senku!

The young man's voice, belonging to an enthusiastic teen named Chrome was calling to him.

He was startled enough to glance around, first, but catching sight of him in the window, smiling and waving.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, he couldn't be seeing it.

Senku. Kohaku's voice interrupted.

Senku! Suika misses you! Another familiar voice, drawing his attention. Senku felt compelled to look. He could see lush green surroundings and his friends waving to him. There was something wrong with this. He took a small step forward.

No. Something was wrong. He needed to look away.

The void made its most compelling argument. A middle-aged man with a bright grin could be seen and heard to him. "What's wrong Senku, cat got your tongue?"

Senku's eyes widened and he snapped his attention to the window then, unable to stop himself as he got closer. The man held up his hand to the glass, welcoming him. Senku pressed his hand to his, whispering. "Dad."

Whatever effects he would normally get when staring at the void were completely forgotten as he seemed to be completely entranced.

[Part A]

Senku was entranced by the window. Someone, who was curious about his past, or the people he knew, could sidle up and get the opportunity to see a memory, or a loved one calling to him. Maybe a glimpse of home. Doing so would eventually cause their visions to blend and warp into something shared. If it was early enough, he might respond, or he might not respond at all. He was completely willing to give into the window, if it gave him the opportunity to see his dad again.

[Part B]

The window's grip on Senku was hard and unyielding. He would stare and touch the window until the end of the storm, unless he was forcibly drawn away from it. He was not likely to react very well to doing that, and he will be visibly shaken after the fact, thanks to the kinds of things he'd seen, ghosts of his past.

[Part C]

Senku had finally been pulled away from the window. It didn't matter what room he got dumped in, he found himself a seat and put his head in his hands, sighing, heavy and tired like he rarely looks despite everything that does weigh him down at times.

Edited 2020-10-09 06:12 (UTC)

Ichigo was having a rare, self imposed day off from working the medical car. After all the checkups he'd done the day before, he felt like he deserved it. The warning of the void storm happened just as he finished fixing his morning coffee just the way he liked it, and he couldn't help it. He looked out the nearest window.

Instead of the normal swirls of color, Ichigo saw faces. And not just any faces, the two most painfully missed faces. Rukia was there, calling for him to come with her. They could go drinking with the other soul reapers he counted as friends. He could spar with anyone he wanted, even Byakuya. All he had to do was come with her.

As much as he missed his best friend, she was easy to ignore. It was the other figure he saw, calling his name and reaching for him with the smile he ached to see so much. Even fifteen years dead, he still hadn't forgotten how she'd smiled at him. "Mom...?" The word fell softly from his lips as moisture gathered in his eyes and the piping hot cup of coffee fell from his hands to spill on his feet. He didn't even feel the pain of it.

Glorfindel had found the visions of Gondolin and Imladris to be quite mesmerizing. For about the first minute. But Elves can walk in their own memories, so it wasn't something he hadn't seen before, and couldn't see again, so it lost its appeal pretty quickly.

The passengers in the Train, however, were quite another story. He spotted Sven once or twice, and Maglor and Maedhros, and of course, those who had just recently left.

When a random strange passenger passed through him, he felt a flutter, but it didn't affect him a lot. But after a moment of reflection, he realized that was because he had a lot of energy. Those with less would be highly effected.

Using some blankets grabbed from his cabin (sorry cabin mates), he put them up in the downstairs of the Library. Then he ran back and forth to the kitchen to grab everything he would need for a Tea Party.

Come join Glorfindel in the lovely, dark 1st floor of the Library. There is piping hot tea (if you need yours warmed, just ask your host), lovely little sandwiches and pastries, and some nice ambient music provided by the flute player sitting cross legged on the Purple table.

Time to read, chat, and enjoy some Void Free time.

A. Coming At You LIVE

Eight rushed out as soon as she heard the announcement. She wasn't sure what a void storm was, but she was pretty convinced that it wasn't going to be good. Her movements are swift as she goes down the corridor, charging with an aimless abandon that does not have a target. What was going on? What could they do?

As she's entering the Standard Coach, her eyes are drawn to the ripples of the void. And then, she here's it. That sound. Those voices. Could it be...?

A small childish looking inkling pipped up first. "Y'all know what time it is!"

Her tall coworker commented, raising her hands in a showy pose. "Its Off The Hook, coming at you LIVE from The Void!"

"Yo, check it Marina! Agent 8 is totally caught on that weird... space.. train!"

The woman named Marina clasped her hands and look positively worried. "That's true, Pealrie... and that's no place for her. She should be home, with us."

"Ha! As if she'd let something like that stop her. She saved the world!"

"C'mon Agent 8. You can do it. Just step outside the train. We can all go back to Inkopolis, together!"

"We believe in you!"

Eight's fingers trembled as she pressed herself against the window her two friends calling her from. Before she knew what she was doing, the octogirl shifted into her octopus form, curled up her tentacles and fired herself at the window in a stream of high-powered ink. She lands with a thud, only to look out the window at her two beckoning friends cheering for her to succeed.

Tears welling up, she transforms again and propels toward them again. And again. And again. And again.

B. A Song In My Heart

Assuming she doesn't splat herself first, eventually Eight does pull herself away from the grips of the Void. She does the one thing that she knows how to do to keep herself busy: work on chores. Throughout the rest of the day she will keep herself occupied by cleaning laundry, sweeping up places, working the kitchen, even doing other people's chores if they would let them.

Yet there is something that the experience did remind her. The necessity of music. As she is working on everything she hums a song that is a reminder of home. A song of hope.

Impact

"How wonderful," Fingon mutters at the news, putting down the book in his hands to better appreciate the message. "And what will it be this time?"

The library's still scarcely occupied at this hour, and it's not disturbing anyone to head over to the ICP and see if there's anything else he should know.

And... nothing. Well, all right, there's a tremor under his feet, but that's nothing-

Findekano? Findekano, are you there? I'm cold. A teenage boy's ghostly voice, trying to sound brave but not quite managing it. Where am I?

If he'd been holding the book, he would have dropped it. Instead, he sucks in a sharp breath, turning toward the windows.

"What?"

Inside

"I can't touch them," Fingon tells this newest ghost, his hands moving urgently on the strings of a harp pilfered from the music carriage. "You know I can't. Please stop offering them."

An arms-length away, a tall elf with rich copper hair looks plaintively from Fingon to the flowers in his hand. As usual when a Feanorian gets an idea in his head, he doesn't listen. Non-existent as the bundle is, it somehow keeps getting pushed into the crook of Fingon's elbow- Maedhros might have been the reasonable son of Feanor, but he never did like being ignored.

Fingon isn't in the habit of ignoring him either, which is probably part of the problem.

Not far away, a soundless snicker is visible on the face of Maglor. Maybe he's judging his brother's romantic technique. Maybe it's his cousin's fingering on the harp... which over time is, admittedly, beginning to falter. Either way the shade, quieter than the prince of the strong voice ever was in life, is clearly indulging in a private joke of some kind.

Edited 2020-10-09 05:40 (UTC)

1. Outside

[When Masumi hears the first of the voices she stops, frozen in place as she wondered if she was hearing things.

Then she hears it again, a voice she thought she'd never hear again telling her to please just look outside, out the window, in the void...

It doesn't take long for Masumi to fall victim to the lure of the voidstorm, all too easily pulled into staring out the window at the familiar face of her eldest brother, then her second brother, then her mother, all calling to her now even as she desperately gazed at the void.]

"I missed you all so much..."

2. Aftermath

[At some point she's been pulled away from the window and out of her entranced state, but that didn't negate the grief that came from seeing someone she knew to be dead out of nowhere. As a result, she's trying to distract herself in the cinema car, but it wasn't working very well as she bit back frustrated tears over being so easily tricked with the promise of seeing Shuuichi again.

She really should have known it couldn't be real. He was dead, after all.]

[Well, Masumi.

Enna's going to just. Walk up behind you, while you're staring out the window.

And then grab you by the shirt collar and start pulling you away.]

Stop that.

[A decent enough morning it had been as she got herself some tea and made her way to the dining car only to be met with a chilling feeling and a couple voices immediately after echoing in her ears. "Come home Willow, we miss you. I miss you." Then she looks out the window, immediately dropping the cup, not hearing it break on the ground, gaze fixated on the sight before her in the void as she steps towards the window.

In front of her was her brother, mother, father, best friend, and most importantly: the love of her life. All begging her to join, all opening their arms, all people she missed fiercely. She can't help but reach for the window, tears streaming down her face, calling back to them and begging for them to come inside.]

LYTHIE-- YOU'RE ALIVE! Please... Come inside, come to me. My dearest Moon please, do not leave me again! I am sorry for leaving when you needed me most, I could not control it! I couldn't...

[She doesn't even hear herself pleading desperately for Lythrana, she just raises her voice in hopeless desperation.]

It's like moving in slow motion (Narrative)

[The morning is normal, at least as far as Siebren can tell, having only had a handful of them on the train so far. But then the lurch nearly knocks him off his feet, and an announcement gives a warning, and-]

[And there are voices. From the window. The melody swells in his head as he hears them call to him- Dr. de Kuiper, where have you been? You're needed in the lab. Siebren, are you there? Hey, Sieb-]

[He starts, and he stares - at the floor, because he does not trust the windows. Sieb- nobody has called him that since-]

[This is not real, he concludes, and cannot be trusted. He has been informed of voidsickness; he does not trust this not to be a worsened version of that. And if it is tempting to him, then it will likely be tempting to other people.]

[He takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly. Very well. Time to begin.]

1. And we're already too late

[Siebren can be seen holding a pair of blankets under his arm. They act as temporary window covers as he walks through the cars, hovering between the windows and anyone who may be looking out through them. If you're enraptured by the windows, you may find a blanket in front of your face and Siebren at your shoulder.]

It is not safe here.

[Allow him to lead you away, or be floated away with his gravity powers; it matters not to him, so long as you are safe.]

2. If we arrive at all

[Have you seen Siebren helping people? Do you want to help him, or possibly just tag along because you're lonely? Either way, he's definitely open to the company.]

How are you faring?

3. Wildcard

[Want something different? Have an idea? Hit me up at

kiaxet or Kiaxet#7085 on Discord!]

Edited 2020-10-09 06:17 (UTC)

Nope.

[Enna just. Grabs onto Willow, by the shirt collar, yanking back.]

Stop that.

The Hero's Shade

He looks different, Zelda realizes, seeing a familiar face at the breakfast table. Not quite the boy who'd stuck into her garden, not quiet the man who'd wielded the Master Sword- a youth in-between, an adolescent that had never been.

And, of course, there was the uniform. She'd seen him in blue, of course. The trousers, though? The lack of a pointed cap? Both seemed so very strange on him, though she'd gotten used to the look on others.

Would he look something like this, in the world she would never see? The goddesses alone knew.

"Hello, Link," she says with a sad smile, trying to put all this out of her mind. "It's good to see you."

The smile he gives her in return is bright and as piercing as the sword of evil's bane itself, but a few moments later he is gone- vanished, as if he had never been.

She has, she reminds herself, ignoring the sharp ache in her chest, no right to feel abandoned.

Voices from the Outside

There are so many images she sees, when she dares to look out window. Castle Town, alive again as it hadn't been for years. A celebration in Lon Lon Ranch, hastily thrown together but with all of the land there. Her father, his red robe tucked close around him as he called her name. But the hardest of all to ignore was the silver-haired woman dressed in armor whose red eyes sought hers.

"Young one? You know better than to run off!"

And she's so tempted, then, to stay. To linger in a chair nearby, letting the familiar voice overwhelm her. And yet...

"You taught me better than to trust illusions," she says, letting herself indulge a little in the false guise. "Just as you taught me how to create them. So I hope you won't mind terribly if I do this-"

Shadow will never come as easily to her as Light, but being raised by the Sage of Shadow herself will teach a few things even to the most stubborn student. She concentrates, letting her power dissipate through the carriage until the windows are dark and clouded.

It's a start.

Edited 2020-10-09 06:21 (UTC)

[Enna didn't really need much in the way of words to start working with Siebren. Rather, she just saw him also hauling people, and coordinated where to lock them, and then ran off.

It's only after she's returned a few more times, locking up a couple more people in the kitchen that she pauses, to look at Siebren.]

Oh, right. Who are you, anyway?

[She's distracted enough that the grab takes her completely off guard, causing her to be initially easily dragged away. That doesn't last long though, as she soon begins struggling to get loose and back to the window, trying desperately to twist around to make Enna release her.]

"Let me go, my family's out there! I need to talk to them!" [She could still hear their voices, asking her to come back to the window and join them.]

[the yank snaps her enough out of the daze, causing her to whirl around with a confused and scared expression, still semi hypnotised by the teasing of the void.]

Stop what?

I. Turbulence

II. Avoidance

always

hated

III. Sleep

other

Edited 2020-10-09 16:30 (UTC)

No they aren't.

[Enna shifts her grip, trying to get Masumi in a headlock.]

We're in a storm. It's an illusion of the sirens.

Sometime between one leap and the next, a blanket snaps into place over the window, seemingly by itself. It does not stop the sound, but at least it blocks the visual.

Siebren is there as Agent 8 lands, one palm raised - it is his gravity powers that are keeping the blanket in place. "Enough," he says, calm but firm. "We need to go someplace safer."

Crying at the window. No one's there. Not really.

[She's going to keep pulling Willow away.]

They're gonna drown you.

[It's easy, to fall into place with a teammate - common work towards a common goal. It's not quite a mission - no violence, no need to be Sigma - but it is teamwork nonetheless. He has paused to fish his paper and pen out of his pocket - his list of who has been deposited in what car, in need of constant updates - when the question catches him off guard-]

[And he laughs. It's short, and surprised, and he cannot help it - it says something, about the situation at hand and about him as a person, that he'd fallen into step so easily with her without ever asking her name or giving his own.]

Siebren de Kuiper. [Said with a smile that doesn't exactly match the situation going on outside.] And you?

Edited (Punctuation woes) 2020-10-09 06:39 (UTC)

Eight blinks and stares at the blanket. She can hear it. She can feel their presence beyond the window. In a moment she materializes into her human form and stares vacuously at the blanket.

"I have to... go. This place... isn't right. I'm not... supposed to be here..." A hand reaches for the blanket and pulls, her eyes welling with tears.

Enna. Captain of the Argo Minor, so I'm used to storms.

[She nods, trying to keep his name in her head.]

Sie... Siebren....

[Her native language is some strange mishmash of ancient Greek and Arabic, so trying to get the Dutch sounds right is pretty hard on her. But she's trying.]

... Salt-de-Pepper.

Wh-what do you mean no one's there? They're right there! I can hear them!

[She's too disoriented to fight back and begrudgingly allows to be pulled with frustration.]

He reaches out and places his hand over hers. "They are not there. They are home, where you left them."

(He sincerely hopes that they are not dead, in the way that many of the voices calling out to him seem to be.)

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Page 1 of 121

Echoes in a Void

Enna | OTA

Lord El-Melloi II | blue team | ota

Senku Ishigami | OTA

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Time for a Tea Party

Agent 8 | Purple Team | ota

Fingon | Team Purple | OTA

Masumi Sera | Purple Team | OTA

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Willow | Orange Team | OTA

Siebren de Kuiper | Orange Team | OTA

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Zelda | Orange Team | OTA

wildcard

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Reno | OTA

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