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

Devero goes so, so still when he hears Koumyou approaching from behind him, only his chest moving with his erratic, shallow breathing. He watches the man like he expects to be-- like he expects him to-- like he expects--

Koumyou sits beside him. He did not expect that.

He's still tense as a load-bearing cable when Koumyou bumps him, and his fingers shake as he accepts his Interface back. He still can't look at him, turning his face away as the priest speaks.

"How could you know?" he asks, his voice low and strained. "Any n-normal person would have just meant it for fun. But you had to get stuck with me taking a fancy to you."

Koumyou's earlier cigarette had been abandoned across the room, just before he'd gotten stuck in his shirt. It's either burned down or burned out, by now, so Koumyou lights another.

He needs it to steady his own nerves.

"You say that like it's such a bad thing," Koumyou says only after taking a long drag from the fresh cancer stick, letting the words out into the air with the smoke. "One could easily argue that taking a fancy to an aloof, inexperienced old priest is more of a problem."

Koumyou knows his shortcomings. He knows there are a myriad of reasons that so many have compared him to the moon. Distant, watching, silent, shining a cold light down onto things both open and secret alike. Not even its own light, not really, but merely a reflection of the sun.

"There have to be better suited people on this train, for you. Younger, gentler. Someone who won't snag against every ragged edge you have and rip it open even worse."

"One could," Devero concedes, "but not this one. And you're not that old!"

Like that's the actual issue at play here.

"Other folk here have been kind to me. They've made me feel very welcome. And I know-- I know I can bring a lot to this community, and I know my contributions it will be appreciated. But Sanzo--" He almost looks at him, but his eyes snag on smoke and cigarette and don't move higher. "No one has made me feel the way you've made me feel."

He looks away again, clasping both hands around his Interface. "And I don't just mean-- how much fun I had with you, the other day. I think there's been something festering inside me for-- for-- for a long time. You saw that. I feel like maybe my ragged edges need to be ripped open, to let this infection out."

Koumyou thinks about that for another long, silent moment, just quietly smoking. He doesn't like to rush to say the first thing on his mind, but especially when something's important.

So he sits, and he smokes, and he thinks.

It's probably hell on Devero's nerves, but there's no helping it. That's just how Koumyou is.

"...I suppose so," he finally allows, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette. His eyes are staring only at the glowing tip as he speaks, "Whatever else does or doesn't happen here, I'm not going to turn away from you, Devero. It's just not in my nature."

The moon may be hidden by a dark cloud once in a while, but it always comes out again. Even if Koumyou is nowhere near as punctual or reliable as the moon, the priest can admit the idea has its merits.

(Jikaku had known him better than most, to make that comparison to begin with. Not much got past Koumyou's old teacher.)

"...And shepherding souls sounds far too troublesome."

That kind of left the whole sex topic, didn't it? And the question of any vows that could make the subject moot.

No, it doesn't help Devero's nerves at all, to sit beside Koumyou while he smokes and thinks. But he endures it, looking nearly like a penitent as he sits with his hands clasped and his head bowed.

That bowed head lifts, Devero finally, finally managing to actually look at Koumyou. His dark eyes are guarded, that beaten hound still anticipating a raised hand. He assesses Koumyou's expression for a long, long moment; whatever he sees there satisfies him. He nods and lowers his eyes again. "Thank you."

A long exhale through his nose. "A person should be responsible for their own soul anyway, I should think."

Koumyou has said nothing about Devero's confession of carnal attraction, and where he comes from, that's answer enough. He squares his shoulders and sits up straighter on the lounger. "Attraction on my part doesn't entitle action on yours," he recites, his voice subdued but even. (That relative calm is belied by the way he worries his Interface between his thumbs.) "Being attracted to you isn't what h-hurts me, it's the fear of what would happen if I can't control my actions because of that. I don't want to use you."

He stands slowly and turns to face Koumyou, wiping a hand across his mouth as he does. He has to swallow before he can continue, and he's back to looking anywhere but at the Sanzo's face. "I swear to you that I'll be able to control my-- m-my interest around you. I won't be inappropriate. But I may need some s...space sometimes, that's all."

"I haven't said 'no'," Koumyou says gently, but firmly.

He takes another long drag of his cigarette, holds it in for a moment, and then stares at the ash collecting on the end as he exhales the smoke. To the priest, the way he's really burning through this cigarette is a sign of his own nerves.

"I'm not as immune to your charms as I may seem. But there are... considerations."

His monastic vows aren't really a problem, to Koumyou. He's broken all the others except this one, after all. He eats meat, he smokes, he drinks, he gambles, he kills.

"As a Sanzo, I can do pretty much whatever I want. On paper, there are rules. In practice, I answer to no one."

That left the more mundane issues at hand. Namely...

Quietly, "...I wouldn't know what I'm doing, Devero."

"...You haven't?" That brings Devero's eyes back to Koumyou's face, his expression startled. His needy heart lurches in his chest and he tries to set the iron bands of his control around it, but they've been warped and weak since he first met Koumyou. His effort doesn't do very much.

That word considerations makes him withdraw a little. Considerations. The priest may answer to no one but Devero doesn't even know what vows he's taken, or how closely he holds to them. Just because no one else could enforce his rules doesn't mean he won't enforce them for himself.

He nods, to show he's listening and understanding, and tries to brace himself for the demurral he knows is going to follow that statement--

But Koumyou startles him again. Devero had drawn up in his head a list of all the reasons Koumyou might refuse him-- religious commitment, heterosexuality, asexuality, plain disinterest, and more-- and 'inexperience' hadn't even made the bottom of it. Sexual activity is so normalized where he comes from that he'd just assumed-- surely Koumyou hadn't been born a priest--

He takes a moment to process that, and then slowly lowers himself to sit seiza on the floor in front of him. "If you're worried that would matter to me, it doesn't," he says. If he sounds a little uncertain himself, it's only because he's not 100% positive that Koumyou just admitting to being a virgin. "No one knows what they're doing their f... first time?"

The fact that they've switched positions isn't lost on Koumyou. There's an effortless... symmetry to their interactions, in general, like it's all one very slow dance. They'd switched positions in the pool, too, and probably other times he can't even recall now.

"I suppose it's a little embarrassing, at my age."

Another long draw from his cigarette, burned almost down to the filter, now. He regards Devero steadily through the smoke.

Devero regards him back. "I don't think it has to be," he says. "Where I come from, we understand that everyone's sexual journey is unique and deeply personal. Shaming or judging someone for the shape or length of that path is cruel, and I won't do it to you."

"Yes, well, in a temple..."

Things are a lot different. He doesn't bother to elaborate.

"Your letter made it sound like you want more than... that."

Why yes, it is hard for him to address it directly. Any of it. Koumyou's natural inclination is to be aloof, distant, never touching on things directly unless he has to.

But he doesn't look away, despite that.

Devero does, though. He looks off to the side, his expression going a little... grim. It's not that he's ashamed of this, exactly, but-- well, just because sex and sexuality are open and embraced in his world doesn't mean people go around talking so directly about it every day.

"Sex is important to me," he says. "I really enjoy it. And I've had a-- a lot of sex. With a lot of people. I-in a lot of different ways." Oh, his cheeks are starting to heat and there's no more of that plausible deniability of being in the hot pool.

"A-and it's not like I expect just one partner to meet that need-- or that I need it! And sex isn't just about what I want--" He's getting flustered now, worried he sounds like an addict. He drops his face into his hands with a frustrated groan. "I'm making a right hash of this, aren't I?"

Koumyou can't help but be amused at the poor guy getting so flustered, smiling faintly as he watches. He's not much better, internally, but his composure is hard to beat.

"I meant, more than sex," he finally says it directly, with only the tinniest hesitation before that final word.

"I'm just as inexperienced in the rest of it. If that's your intention."

Devero's eyes dart back to Koumyou, and then away again. He hunches a little, as if wanting an intimate relationship is shameful. "I-- I'm needy," he says. How often has Valdana told him that? "I'm sorry. I wouldn't expect anything of you, if that's not what you're looking for. Sex isn't just for partners and partners don't have to have sex to be but I-- but--"

He shrinks even further, fingers digging into his knees. His voice is very small when he says, "It'd be nice to have both."

Edited 2020-12-11 00:03 (UTC)

Koumyou's free hand moves almost of its own volition, callused fingertips sliding under Devero's chin. It's a gentle attempt to tip Devero's face up, if it's down, or to at least to get him to look directly at him.

"I haven't said 'no'," the priest reminds him, and puts out his cigarette against the frame of the lounger he's seated on.

Devero freezes when Koumyou leans toward him, not even breathing as the priest turns his face up to him. He licks his lips. "--You also haven't said yes," he says. "If you need some time to-- t-to think about it, some space, I understand. You just have to let me know what you want, and you'll have it."

Such a good hound. So eager to please.

Koumyou's gaze drifts down to Devero's lips when he licks them, the movement deliberately slow, then back up to meet his eyes.

"Alright, then," he takes a deep breath, like this is going to plunge him into something -- some dark waters he doesn't know the depths of. And it is, isn't it? Almost exactly that? "'Yes.'"

He's said yes. He's said yes. Devero inhales sharply and holds for a moment, just staring, as if he's not sure he heard that right-- or perhaps waiting for the cruelty to come into Koumyou's eyes, the smirk to twist his lips, the laugh at Devero's expense.

But that moment passes and Koumyou doesn't yank back the word and Devero rises on his knees, lifting his hands towards the priest's face. "Sanzo," he breathes reverently. "May I kiss you?"

Edited 2020-12-11 01:24 (UTC)

Koumyou doesn't shy away from the hands reaching for his face, or from Devero moving up, closer. He holds very still, except to nod ever-so-slightly. "Whenever you like."

Blanket permission.

"Thank you," he says, a smile breaking across his lips. Devero cups the priest's lean face in his big hands and rises to close the distance between them. He closes his eyes, and presses his lips gently to Koumyou's.

Koumyou just... holds still. He doesn't know what else to do, not really, one hand lifting toward Devero's head-- and then dropping again.

This is so far out of his area of expertise! But he lets his eyes slip shut, too, and his lips are soft, and pliant, and even just slightly parted. Relaxed instead of tense, even though he can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Devero's determined to do right by Koumyou, to respect his uncertainty and inexperience and go slow. So as badly as he kind of just wants to dive into Sanzo's lap and kiss him breathless, he restrains himself. He actually breaks the kiss and pulls back, just far enough to look up at him. "All right?" he asks softly.

Koumyou blinks his eyes back open, looking slightly dazed. And there's a faint smile before he confirms, "...Yeah."

Devero positively beams up at him. Still holding Koumyou's face, his thumbs trace the arcs of his cheekbones. "If I ever do anything you don't like, or if I push you too fast, or if you need a moment to process anything, let me know, all right?" Despite his smile, his words are intent and earnest. "All you have to do is speak up and I'll stop."

"The same goes for you, Devero," Koumyou says gently, lifting his hands to the other man's shoulders, finally. He looks him directly in the eye. "But first, there's something very important that must happen."

"O-oh. Of course." Is it really that shocking, Devero, that your comfort and consent might mean something too? ~~Well, yes.~~

He tilts his head curiously, still a little aback. "Hm? And what's that?"

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