A New Platform [Intro Post December]

[voidtreckermods]

On the Train

It's only been a couple of days since the Voidtrecker Express took to the void once more, and many of the passengers are still recovering and recuperating after a very hectic end to their latest mission. Nevertheless, they are awoken by a familiar message.

"Good morning passengers, it is day sixteen of the month of Imagination. Points have been updated on the system."

They have indeed, and everyone can spend the morning shopping. Those who have been on the train for 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 the windows fill with the fog that means they are at a platform. It is warm outside with a pleasant breeze that flows down the platform, rustling the light spread of leaves that litter the floor.

As usual the first to leave the train notice nothing, walking silently, rucksacks on their backs, towards the barriers. Akemi Homura, Alfred the Poisoner, Donatello Versus, Chie Satonaka, Joscelin Fitzthomas, Ronan Lynch, Rose Tyler, Tangle the Lemur, Trowa Barton, Wester Mazaki and Whisper the Wolf all pass through the platform, not looking back before they disappear through the barriers and into the fog beyond.

But on the platform itself there are 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 the swirling leaves at their feet, moving in flurries and rattling against each other softly. As their eyes adjust, they will see they are on a platform, cement and packed earth forming a very practical, plain-looking shelter. Behind them is a set of barriers, and in front of them is a single track extending both ways into thick fog.

They are standing, in clothes that are not their own and a style 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 eight 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's 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 lead to something terrible. 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 (see
'Publications'). The store rooms have been restocked with more jars of honey, the ingredient of the month of Imagination, as well as sundries.

A new carriage has been added right next to the luggage carriage. It is a second medical carriage, or triage carriage. Downstairs is more open with beds and chairs, upstairs are two surgical bays for those that need immediate attention.

For those intrigued by the claim of a parcel for every passenger they will find several large boxes filled with small blue bags. Inside each bag is ten dark blue coins imprinted on each side with a silver snowflake. Each bag has a small label with a passengers name. On the other side of the label it reads: Keep these safe for now.

Of course for any passengers that have bought items, these are also scattered around the luggage carriage as well.

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 taking advantage of the pleasant weather and the doors slide shut. Veteran passengers know what will happen next, but they may wish to brief their new companions.

The train sets off, the fog obscuring the view again 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

[firewalled]

"Not allowed? That's..." That's super weird, he wants to say, but the guy says he'll explain later, so maybe Rich should wait on the protests until he's able to get his pain back down to a manageable level.

"Galo, Eight... uh, I'm Rich. Rich Goranski." He carefully gets back on his feet, only wincing slightly, but as much as he'd like to pretend he can handle this much on his own, he's not that stupid. He leans just slightly on Eight, but tries to keep his burns tilted away from her, just so he doesn't agitate them further.

"I just need a change of bandages, really... maybe some aspirin." That'll definitely replace morphine. For sure.

[barenakedspirit]

Galo carefully reaches out, mindful of the burns and keeps his hands away from them as he steadies Rich from the other side. "Yeah, don't worry. Fire fighters double as Paramedics. You're in trained hands!" It was part of his required courses. Right along side all the combat and technical knowledge needed to operate a rescue mech.

He guides the little group while also telling people in the carrying voice of a trained professional to clear the way. Their pace will be set by how fast Rich wants to go. Galo keeps glancing to him as they move. Never hurrying.

"Where we're going isn't that far." He says as they near the door. He'd spotted the new car on his way through the train. Damn if it won't be useful for keeping people stable until their magical healers can help. "Make sure to tell me if you need a break or something. We'll take five each time you need it."

[consider8]

Eight's attention is focused on Galo, impressed with how well he is taking charge of the situation. Is this what firefighters did...? That... that didn't seem so bad.

Perhaps... perhaps she just needs to keep talking. Distract him with something as they make their way. "The train has all kinds of experts on board. There are people that can heal you with magic, and many other nice and capable people in addition to Galo here." She said with more familiarity than she actually had.

"And when you're feeling up to it, you can check out some of the different cars on board. There's a stone garden, and a gym, and a theater... what do you like to do, Rich?"

[firewalled]

Rich is also quietly impressedbythe way Galo is handling this. God knows if the situation was reversed, he'd be an absolute mess right now. At least like this, all he has to focus on is limping along, not putting too much pressure on the leg that has the most burns on it, but otherwise steadily shuffling along.

"I'll be okay... Don't need a break." He can wait until they make it on the train before he takes a breather. Though the way Eight is talking, like he's going to be on the train for a while...

"I... I mean, I like music, but I... I can't stay. My f- There are people that're gonna be looking for me..." Christine especially gave him a few lectures about resting up. What is she going to think if she comes to visit and finds out he's missing?

(Is she going to even notice, though?)

[barenakedspirit]

The luggage car smells strongly of cigarette smoke and Galo wrinkles his nose at it. Galo shakes his head. He's on the job and can bitch about things later. "Just past this car." He tells Rich while glancing to Eight.

"Hey, there's a green kit about half the size of a duffel bag. Can you grab that and there's a trunk not too far from it, bring one of the bottles from it. Should between what looks like some energy cans and bottle jars. It's really hard to miss!" He looks up briefly and nods to himself. Whatever he's thinking he looks again to Rich, still so calm and casual without being callous.

"They say anything about infection in your burns or anything? Just so I know how careful I got to be."

Before the potion does its work anyway.

[consider8]

Eight nods. At this point she feels like she's being a burden, so the chance to run off for materials was a welcome change. She's off like a light. Green duffel bag. Trunk near the energy cans and jars. Right.

"Don't worry Rich, I'll be right back!" She's out like a rocket, shimmying her way across a few luggage bags and other obstacles. She won't be gone long. She swears.

cw panic attacks, electric shocks, fire, suicide mention

[firewalled]

A slightly smoky luggage car shouldn't be abything to worry about. It shouldn't at all. But here Rich is, suddenly stumbling in his tracks.

Funny thing about being in a hospital for the last month. It's a pretty sterile environment. So long as one stays in their bed and doesn't look when they're getting a needle if they're squeamish, they can avoid a vast majority of triggers, to the point that some certain people who've just survived a traumatic incident might not realize they have one until it's too late.

Until Rich smells cigarette smoke, and he's not in the train car anymore, and his clothes are drenched in gasoline. He can't tell if the shocks his SQUIP is sending through his nerves hurt more than the burning, and he doesn't really care as long as it stops-

And then he's back in the luggage car, his ears ringing from music that isn't there anymore, and he's trying to breathe through ugly sobs and he just can't move.

cw: ptsd, hospital mention,

[barenakedspirit]

The moment he stops, Galo steps around him in a silent shield between himself and the foot traffic coming into the car. He's an impatient man on the battlefield. Cocky and reckless. But never with people's lives.

Never here in moments like these. They're familiar to him in people he saves and deep in his own past when the world he'd known was nothing but ashes. When breathing was like taking in knives. He didn't become a doctor because the idea of those walls that told him all of his old life was gone...

Well.

Better to fight the source. It's too heavy a topic to think about so he doesn't. His face is impassive as he keeps a gentle hold on Rich and says in a neutral, soothing voice. "It helps to focus on breathing. It's one thing." One thing versus whatever else is going on. One thing out of many.

Sometimes that is enough.

cw: ptsd

[consider8]

Eight was not prepared for what she saw when she came back. Her hand gripped tight to the green bag as she neared. She was not a stranger to war. Though death was nominally an inconvenience, since their bodies could reclaim their bodies at a spawn point, it did not make the process of being liberated from your body any less scary or painless. On occasion, a respawned Octoling would grip themselves tightly and refused to leave. They would be reprimanded, reminded of the importance of their mission, and be sent back out to the front lines to fight again.

Eight always thought that method was a bit too heartless.

From talking to one such squadmate, Eight learned that one thing that was overwhelming was the senses. A sudden keenness of every sound, light, and sensation. Though she lacked the mass of Galo, Eight quietly took a position flanked at his side, shielding him from anything coming from the side Galo couldn't cover.

Her concerns for her effectiveness can wait. This boy needed her there now.

cw suicide mention, mention of abuse

[firewalled]

Rich is surprised to notice Galo immediately shielding him, like he knows just what's going on. Rich is sure he doesn't know what's going on right now. He feels like he's lost, travelling between this train car and the garage he thought was going to be his death bed in the span of a few blinks, and he's disoriented and-

And he's supposed to breathe. Rich nods, just to make it clear that he did hear that, and tries to focus on his breathing. It's hard, when he's crying like a weak, pathetic, pitiful child, but he still tries to do so. In and out. Just in and out. Focus on that and not the faint voice in his head, not the insults so clear to him even through layers of glitched static.

When he has caught his breath enough to speak, he mutters a quiet, "Sorry. I'm sorry, I just- shouldn't be doin' this."

[barenakedspirit]

"It's fine." Galo says as he briefly glances to Eight. He won't forget how quickly she joined in and helped. "Pain just sucks no matter what kind it is." He doesn't know what set it off but he doesn't need to know.

"Take your time. Best thing to do is just let it out." He rubs at his throat briefly and lets his hand fall. Some things never fade but that's not going to help to say that right now.

[consider8]

"The head keeps what the heart weeps." Eight shook her head. It was the start of a poem, but she didn't have the full thing formed in mind. Instead she pokes her hand inside the bag, pulling out an extra addition that she placed on top: a bottle of water held fast with a cork top. She lowered it just in sight of Rich and held it there for him to take or dismiss as he saw fit.

As for the bag, it was extended to Galo to do with what he wanted to. She was content to play the supportive role here.

[firewalled]

"It's nothing. It's not... worth it. It was my own damn fault." He's just caught up in making excuses. It's easier to just dismiss this as stupid than listen to anyone saying the contrary... even if he does appreciate that help.

He grabs for the water and takes a small swig of it, and that helps him slow his breathing just a bit too... through his mouth, so he can't smell the smoke as intensely.

"Can we just get out of here? Smells like... it just smells."

[barenakedspirit]

"Yep, come on. Next car doesn't smell like anything." Galo steps forward, urging the group on as he takes the bag from Eight. He slings it over his shoulder with a soft breath.

Smoke. Ah, this is definitely territory he knows how to handle. He's quiet until they reach the next car. The bottom of the carriage looks like a medical bay with curtain rod rails running on either side of the ceiling. Thick grey curtains wait, tied up on either side to keep them clean and out of the way until needed. It smells like a typical hospital, the anti-septic smell smelling barely of anything.

His eyes drift to the cupboards and chairs, ignoring the four beds with the locks around their wheels so they can stay in place. There's a lift to the left of them. He leads them to a chair by the cupboards. "Okay, promise this won't take long. Your docs say anything about infection or anything like that?"

Whenever Rich sits down, Galo's hands hover ready to lend assistance but only if he really wants it. "After that you can ask all the questions you want." He says as he sets the kit down and opens it, checking the contents. Last time he packed it and took it out, he'd left a potion inside. Between that and the one Eight grabbed. One looks like an energy can, the other a bottle.

He thinks about it, grabs the can.

[consider8]

The Octoling had seen injuries, but never to this scale. On her world, all the combatants were made of ink, so they would either recover quickly or explode and die. Between the two, she thinks that dying may be the better choice. A quick respawn later and your body is right as rain. It is only when truly catastrophic physical damage is done that they would be given lasting injuries.

Humans, it would seem, were not like that at all. Their wounds carried. Each scar was a story of a fight in their lives. She looks over the broken and blistered skin, knowing that he too would have to carry that with him. It was a difficult thing to see.

A protective covering would serve well, gauze, perhaps? Oh, and maybe some sort of medicine to help with the broken skin. She'd have to rely on Galo to confirm that she wasn't going to cause more harm, because frankly right now she's flying on the seat of her tentacles.

cw suicidal ideation, medical procudures, burn shit

[firewalled]

Though the next cart is sterile, it's much easier to handle for Rich, especially when he's spent long enough in the hospital before all this. His breathing finally settles into something approaching normalcy, the feeling of vertigo fading and leaving him exhausted all over again. He nearly falls into the chair he's led to, but he tries to focus on the question.

"Um, no, n-not anymore. That got dealt with quick. I was... lucky, I guess. Wouldn't have survived if they did."

From what he was told, that would have likely led to sepsis. Which would have been an ugly way to go... though maybe it would have been deserved for him.

"It's mainly on this half," he mutters, gesturing to the left side of his body. To be honest, he's only slightly less lost than Eight was. All he can remember from his initial treatment was a whole lot of water and them having to cut around the places where his clothing had melted to the skin.

cw: mentions of past trauma

[barenakedspirit]

He sets the can out and passes it to Eight for a sec as he kicks himself internally and grabs the bottle. He nods once, "You were." He doesn't elaborate. He got sick of them doing that in the hospital when he had no voice to tell them to stop and won't do that to anyone else.

He checks the cupboards and finds the disposable cups. He twists the top off the bottle and pours about half of it into the cup. "First, pain killer. Want that working through your system while we deal with the rest."

Galo turns and offers it to Rich. The liquid in the cup is blue in color and looks like medicine. It doesn't smell like anything and if he takes it. He'll find it doesn't taste like much either. But the pain relief will be immediate and strength will return just as quickly. The itch of new skin will happen on the heels of that and once he's done Galo will say. "Yeah, I know. Works super fast. It mends so, with your burns. You got some scars. Sorry."

He steps over to the sink as he says, "I'll give you minute then we'll make sure you don't need more of it."

[consider8]

Eight watches this all eagerly, having never seen this side of medicine before. She's tempted to give the bottle a quick sip, but knows better than to interfere with the treatment. Still, she'll make a note of the color and the type of bottle, just in case she needed to keep it in mind for future injuries of other people.

Though he may not be aware, Galo was helping instruct her on how to treat major burns and injuries for future travelers. Which actually poses an interesting question, "Does this treatment work for all burns? I would think an electrical burn would need something different from a chemical burn." She then looks at Rich, her eyes full of worry and concern. "What was it that hurt you?"

cw just... suicide and abuse talk all the way down, i'm so sorry

[firewalled]

Rich doesn't need elaboration. It's not that it'd bother him to hear, but he's not sure he's aware enough to listen right now. He's not in a position to argue, either, so when the cup is offered to him, he chugs it down obediently. There's mild relief almost instantly, and Rich manages a small smile before the itching begins and he looks sour, holding himself back from scratching.

"I was expectin' scars. Already had tons of marks before this, what's one or two more?" He would laugh, knowing these scars are going to be far more obvious, until Eight's question makes him hesitate. He can feel guilt like a heavy stone in his gut, and he averts his eyes from the two of them, not at all willing to see the pity he knows his admission will get.

"Gasoline. Poured it on myself and dropped my lighter. Hell of an idiotic way to go, huh? Probably should have gone for something less messy." He shrugs. "Buuuut speaking of electrical, I needed some way to stop the bitch in my head from shocking me. I think my burns probably covered up most of those scars for ya."

cw: suicide mention

[barenakedspirit]

"Nope! These potions handle everything! Blood loss, broken bones, all of it. Thanks to Tidus and Lightning we got some super good tools." He flashes a grin at Eight. "I can run you through which to use for what later." Then he quiets as Rich's story comes out.

His face is the same as before with just a slight narrowing of his eyes. It isn't his place to say anything about it. He just makes a note to cover Rich more in missions so he doesn't let himself get taken out. He'd thought enough to use gasoline. Gas fires are a bitch if one doesn't have the right tools. By then it could have been too late.

"Move your arm for me? If it's all cleared up you won't need the rest of this." It is indeed cleared up. There's just that persist itch of new skin. "If you're good we can get the bandages off."

cw: neglect, grief of loss, suicide

[consider8]

Eight nods at Galo's offer. She was no medic, so knowledge of how the tools on the train work would be helpful should she ever need it.

She's silent at Rich's words. That... was rare, but not unheard of in the Octarian military. They were all united by a sense of purpose to help each other and their city. But for some, it was too much: the drills were too intense; the fear of fighting was too much; or they weren't improving fast enough to keep up with everyone else. The process was surprisingly easy. Just step out of range of the spawn point and find a large elevation in a deep body of water. Just like what she did...

Galo's words snaps her out of the memory and into the present. She looks over the assessment, and decides that the best thing that she could do was keep him talking. They can address the implications of... the other thing, in a moment. "What bastard in your head? What's shocking you?"

cw ableism

[firewalled]

Rich continues to avoid looking at them, sure he knows how they're looking at him right now. He knows how the people at home reacted, after all. These two would treat him just like another charity case.

He moves his arm robotically, holding steady as the bandages are slowly wound away, but the question gives him pause. "...You're probably not gonna believe me, but I guess I won't look any less crazy."

That's what most of the gossip mill called him now anyways.

"Called a SQUIP. It's a supercomputer in my brain. Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Some Japanese company developed it and I was stupid enough to be a guinea pig for it. I... think it's off now, but it did a number on me for a while there."

[barenakedspirit]

"...I don't know if stuff like that disconnects from their servers or whatever when we get here. I'm not a techie, I just help them out if they need heavy stuff moved or a pair of hands to help." He says in the same tones he's used before, slightly cheerful and casual. "This will sound unbelievable but, we're not in our worlds. This is somewhere outside of that." He gestures once then resumes removing bandages.

"Like for example, my world has a rift in the core of the planet. Fire fighters fight living fire so we have stuff like insta-freeze tech. And Eight's world is entirely different from mine. Then there's yours."

He gets the bandages off one arm and disposes them in the proper place then returns, peering carefully at the scars. "Yeah, it worked just fine. You're not gonna need any more bandages. But you should still take it easy for a bit."

[consider8]

Eight looks between Galo and Rich, debating what she wants to reveal and how much would cause more concern. Still, if they were in a sharing mood, it would be rude to not say anything right? "Where I'm from, Squids and Octopuses have become the dominant species. We spend most of our days playing games and staying fashionably fresh."

That was enough. Instead she needs to look at the recovery and is rightfully amazed. While the marring will no doubt persist, the state of Rich's arm was undoubtedly better. She was impressed!

Oh right. "If the SQUID... er... SQUIP is an AI, then you can also talk to Webmind. Webmind is an AI that once inhabited their world's internet. It might be able to talk to it?"

[firewalled]

"I mean, my uh... this guy named Michael got it turned off for me," and he's certainly not blushing just to think of him, "So I think it should be okay. I just. I guess I was a little freaked out about everything here."

He feels a little uncomfortable still, but the other two being willing to talk does help him cautiously look over at them again, searching for any signs of pity as he is.

"Your worlds both sound... a little more crazy than mine. It's just the... heh, the SQUID thing. I like that." It doesn't deserve having its proper title. "But I'll see if I need to talk to anybody. I'd... rather just figure out how to get it out of my head."