voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post December]

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A New Platform [Intro Post December]

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Koumyou only understands... some of that, without more context about Devero's world to work from. But it's enough to get him to raise his other hand from the water and stroke it over Devero's hair, like soothing a frightened animal. Just going to do that over and over, if the bigger man doesn't jerk away from it.

"...Making you her scapegoat," he says after a moment of this, "is just another way to kick you down to make herself feel big."

He's seen this before. He's also almost murdered over it, with only a timely shout from Goudai -- then Toudai -- stopping him.

He doesn't jerk away. In fact, like a frightened animal-- like that abused hound, still so desperate for the touch of a kind hand despite its treatment-- he leans hesitantly into the contact. "It's not like that," he protests weakly. "It's not. I am the problem. I've al-always been the problem, they wouldn't have discharged me from the Guard if I was good enough--!" With a splash, he buries his face in his wet hands. That's a wound that's festered for years, meticulously kept from closing by the woman who was benevolent enough to take on someone with a tainted record like Devero's.

More missing context. Koumyou sighs softly, not letting up on the petting.

"Tell me about what happened in the Guard, then," he says, "I don't know if priests offer absolution where you're from, but if it would help... well, I'm listening."

He doesn't say anything right away, a silence that stretches conspicuously. The shame he carries is a boot on his throat, choking off his air, and it's only by closing his eyes and forcing himself to just breathe that he's able to stave off a full-blown panic attack.

"I was dishonorably discharged," he says finally, mumbling the words into his palms. "My squad was guarding a Reclamation Corps camp out in this ruined city they were surveying, but there were these ludds in the city too and they started-- s-started picking us off. First equipment, then our scouts and perimeter patrol. But then somehow they got u-under the west end of the encampment and they set bombs, and the wh-whole thing caved in when they set them off, and--"

He picks his head up, the words starting to come faster. "--And I just remember the ground starting to go out under my Scorpion, and all the civilians with the Corps were screaming and falling and all I could think was I won't let these people die. So I-- I hacked the control interface for the exo and I turned off all the limiters and I just went."

Abruptly he sits up, knocking Sanzo's hands away even as he turns to face him urgently. "I saved every single one of those people, Sanzo! I pulled every goddamn civilian out of there before the sinkhole could eat them!"

But after that outburst, he slumps, the volume of his voice falling. He leans back against the pool again, suddenly seeming tired. He laughs once, humorlessly. "And I almost died from the biofeedback overload. One of my mates had to drag me out of the sinkhole after I-- I passed out. Nearly lost his fucking leg doing it, too.

"...They got me for tampering with equipment at the court martial. Couldn't appeal it, because that's exactly what I did. It was the only way to save those people, but-- but it was the wrong choice? They wouldn't have discharged me if it wasn't the wrong choice."

He scrubs at his eyes, not that his face isn't wet already. "So there it is. My first big fuck-up."

Koumyou doesn't fight it when Devero tears away from him, of course. He just continues to listen, as silent as the moon.

"...You did what was needed," that is Koumyou's takeaway from the story, "It doesn't sound like the wrong choice to me. Rules sometimes have to be broken in order for the right thing to be done."

He knew that one from experience, himself.

He wants to take comfort from Koumyou's words. He really does. He's always believed, down in some traitorous little corner of his heart, that he did the right thing for those people. But Valdana has mounted such a long-term campaign against his sense of self-worth that he shakes his head.

"If it was the right thing to do, why did it ruin my fucking life?"

Koumyou just gazes at him for a moment, quietly. His eyes go to the metallic tattoo on Devero's shoulder, and linger there.

"Because rules... rules that are usually good, but sometimes have to be broken in dire situations... have to be enforced by a group, like that, or no one will pay them any heed."

Again, speaking from experience. "The head instructor at Taisouji almost had me executed, once, despite agreeing that I had done the right thing in saving my classmate from an abusive instructor's attempt to kill him. I had gone too far, used too much force. It was undeniable that I had intended to kill him, and would have if I hadn't been called off so quickly. So, even though it was also undeniable that it was a unique situation..."

Koumyou shrugs his bony shoulders.

"Being removed from the Guard ruined your life because being in that organization mattered," he continues, "you made it your identity, didn't you? It was important enough to get that big tattoo on your arm. So when it was gone... you lost your footing. It's like that sink hole followed you..."

Edited 2020-12-07 04:09 (UTC)

Devero wraps his arms around himself and watches Koumyou with half lidded eyes as the other man speaks. "Executed...?" he murmurs, more than a little horrified by that. But it's not the point of the story that Koumyou's telling him, so he lets it be.

He does pull his arm around to look at the metallic scorpion inked there, the metallic pigment in his skin glimmering in the gentle light of the spa car. He looks at it like he hasn't seen it before, fingers tracing the outreaching pincers for a moment.

"Being in the Guard... it's important. The Guard protects and serves all the citizens of the World Government, and we-- they--" He pauses, then repeats a sentiment often tossed around in the barracks. "They do the hard stuff, the dirty stuff that other branches of Gov won't do. Especially in the Scorpions.

"Most Guardians don't ever have to fight, you know. They do search and rescue work, or accompany humanitarian aid missions. Disaster response. They're first responders and police, not soldiers. Most of the candidates for the combat program wash out before they even get approved for the upgraded Implants."

He draws his knee up and leans against his leg, running one hand through his damp hair. "It was an honor to be selected. For them to look at me and say 'we can rely on you when shit's at its worst'. It was something to be damn proud of. And then-- and then--"

He closes his eyes. "It all fell out from under me. So-- so you're right; I haven't been able to climb back out of that fucking sinkhole since."

"And then your new leader found you and gave you a new... 'purpose'."

That last word is said carefully, like it could bite him on its way out of Koumyou's mouth.

"You were vulnerable. Anyone would have been. I assume she smelled the blood in the water, like any good predator would."

Directly speaking ill of Devero's precious 'Administrator'. Devero had acted like he might get aggressive, earlier, when Koumyou had been so much less direct about it...

It's fine. Koumyou just watches him as he says it, unflinching.

Edited 2020-12-07 05:24 (UTC)

"She's not!" Devero snaps. He actually lurches up off the ledge with hands fisted, sloshing down to the far end of the pool in his agitation. "I was nothing when she found me! Just some pathetic non-con rotting in a transients' dorm, a hitek with a full Implant and no exo to Interface with!" This is what she told him, over and over until he learned to say it to himself so she no longer had to.

He stops at the far end of the pool and bows his head, burying both hands in his hair and pulling. "She did give me a purpose," he says without turning, but for the first time it sounds like he might be trying to convince himself rather than Koumyou. "She did. An incredible purpose. And we're doing amazing work at Techstead."

He does, legitimately, love the work he does with Chihyoon and Morraine. Getting to help design and test absolutely top-of-the-line technology is an incredible opportunity; getting to bang new hiteks into shape to pilot the improved units and further refine the design is a real pleasure.

--Or... it had been a pleasure. He's been so miserable lately, even his work grating on an uncharacteristically short temper. He just hadn't realized it until-- until he'd met Koumyou Sanzo, and remembered what it felt like to be joyous.

He turns around finally, and sits heavily on the ledge, water rippling away from him. "We're doing incredible work, and I feel terrible all the time," he says, the words as heavy as he feels. It's the first time he's ever allowed himself to say it out loud.

When Devero lunges to his feet like that, the priest just holds still, expecting...

Well, not expecting the big guy to move across the pool. That's interesting.

He watches, and listens, and leans his back against the side of the pool on 'his' end. It's his turn to pull his arms out of the water and drape them along the edge to either side.

It's those last heavy words, though. That's what Koumyou replies to when he says, calmly, "That's because part of you knows I'm right. And it's screaming, somewhere in there, to be let out."

The work is one thing, but that isn't all of it, is it? Not by a long shot, and Koumyou knows this much because of what Devero had said of his 'Madame' earlier in the day.

Edited 2020-12-07 05:38 (UTC)

Devero raises his head, and manages to meet Koumyou's eyes across the pool. It's that trapped, screaming Devero inside that looks out of him, as if the priest's words were an invocation.

Or, as Koumyou had suggested before, an absolution? Permission given to lift the carefully carved yoke of guilt and self-loathing and fear off of his shoulders, and acknowledge finally that this weight is too much.

His eyes brim with fresh tears. "How-- how can you know what going on in here--" He thumps the center of his chest ungently. "--so much better than I do?" he asks, his voice wavering.

"It can't be helped," Koumyou says quietly, not looking away, "I'm a priest. If anything is within my purview, besides protecting the sutra, it's probably the souls of others."

Had they been on a planet, the moonlight may have been overpowering in this moment. Like it could swallow everything.

"And... ultimately, you're too close to really see it."

The moon may be absent from cabin on this interdimensional missionary train, but Devero might have said there was something luminous about Koumyou anyway. It was in the unwavering intensity of his gaze, in the play of his hair in the water, the glimmer of the bath itself. Devero couldn't look away.

"...I don't know much about souls," he admits slowly, "but I'm starting to understand why people like priests so much.

"Thank you. For your perspective, for-- for everything."

It's a very dramatic, very charged moment. Which Koumyou, of course, has to immediately ruin by flashing one of his dopier smiles.

"...People like priests?"

This is news to him!

Of course, a Sanzo can't go anywhere on his world without people clamoring for his attention. For teachings, for wisdom, for him to chant mantras that he never really memorized. But he's never taken that as anyone liking him.

Better than tension break with a grin than with another trauma attack. Devero smiles back at him-- a little subdued, a lot tired, but still a smile. "Okay, I guess I can't speak for everybody. But--" And he actually gets a little shy here, looking away even as he indicates himself with the jerk of a thumb. "I can say for sure that this person definitely likes one priest."

"Flatterer," Koumyou laughs lightly, and then turns away to climb up out of the pool. The leg with the cauterized bullet graze slashed across the back of his thigh is a hair weaker than it should be, after so long in the hot water.

He makes note of it, and adjusts accordingly, padding around the perimeter of the water to where his clothing had ended up.

"I don't know about you, but I need a cigarette after all of that. And ice cream. Do you like ice cream?"

What a combination.

"Ice cream sounds great," Devero says. He rises up out of the pool as well, though he goes straight for the towels. He picks one up, turns, and slings it at Koumyou. "You'd better dry off first, or you'll be cold again as soon as we step off this carriage."

Koumyou catches it and goes about trying to dry himself off. This ends a few moments later with the losing battle of wrapping his hair in the towel and squeezing it in random spots.

"Maaaah... I lost another hair tie..."

Yes. Yes, in fact, it took him this long to notice his braid's come completely undone.

"Your hair's so long," Devero remarks, peeking at it even as he's vigorously giving his curls another towel-off. "You must lose hair ties all the time."

He's already dressed again, though he hasn't put his Interface back on yet, just stuck it in a pocket. And he's still holding his trunks, taking them with the towel over to the basket for the dirty laundry. As he goes to drop both items in, the dangling drawstring of the swim trunks catches his eye. He glances back at Koumyou and his loose curtain of hair, and then yanks the string straight out of the waistband of the swim trunks. (Sorry to whoever gets this pair next.)

"And here I was expecting a crack about how most monks are shaved bald for a reason," Koumyou says with a little laugh, "I guess it's vanity, after all."

He sure doesn't sound upset about it, though, standing there in swim trunks doing battle with the mass of it. All while trying not to tangle it up too badly, for his own future sanity having to comb it all out again.

"I don't know any other monks, remember?" He grins crookedly. "You're going to be standard to which I compare every other clergyfolk I meet going forward."

He walks around the lip of the pool to join Koumyou, and holds out his hands. "Can I help?"

"What? No other clergy?" Koumyou pauses what he's doing, visibly having to wrap his brain around that notion. "You said that sort of thing is private, on your world... I didn't think that meant rare, or perhaps even secret?"

Huh.

The offer gets Devero a quizzical look from Koumyou, and then a smile. "Ohh? If you want, sure!"

Like he's going to turn down someone wrangling his hair for him. The now very damp towel gets placed in the bigger man's hands.

"No, nothing quite like that." He takes the towel with a return smile and attempts to wring some of the water out of it before he applies it again to Kouymou's hair. "I just wasn't interested. They teach us about all the major religions in the last year of creche, so we can pursue a faith if it speaks to us, just." He pauses, then shrugs. "None of them spoke to me. I'm an atheist. And I spend most of my time around other hiteks like me-- people who've pursued work in biotechnology, not faith work. If any of them are part of a religion, they keep their practice to themselves."

"Atheist, huh?" Koumyou ponders that for a moment, holding his chin. "Does that make the Seiten sutra even weirder? Or..."

Or even Koumyou himself, holy as he intrinsically is.

"I suppose Buddhism -- for me -- is less a religion and more a philosophy. 'Faith' implies trust in the unknown, but I have met the gods. I protect part of that which made everything. Those are facts."

Not for everyone, sure. There were a lot of people in Koumyou's world for whom the 'faith' element was very real. But... no one at his rank.

"How one lives their life, that's where things get much messier and much more interesting, to me."

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