middleofsomewhere | Ongoing: All Teams

Ongoing: All Teams

The first few days are taken up with solving the problems in the various sectors, all the while getting closer to their goal. The Great-Winter, Great-Summer, Great-Spring and Great Autumn.

On Day 9 of the month of Jelly they will see on their map a clear indicator of where to go. As they draw near it will be obvious what they are looking for.

The Overseers

In the centre of each of the sectors there is a large metal tube, hundreds of pipes lead from it, spanning up to the ceiling above and down below, creating a field of pipes and tubes to clamber over and crawl under to reach the central tube. On the tube itself there is a panel, wrapping around it in a circle. The SCA's of the Voidtrecker show an exclamation mark, if they click on them they will see the message.

Reach the panel, enter the inner systems and give your aid.

As Voidtreckers step towards the tubes it will seem as if the world shifts around them. Instead of metal and wire they will see trees. The Great-Spring is a tree in blossom, pink leaves spreading up across the canopy. Great-Summer has strong green leaves, Great_Autumns leaves are brown and falling and Great-Winter has no leaves at all.

The panel is still there, the only part of the scene that doesn't look organic. As the Voidtreckers move towards their goal the tree begins to move, branches fighting against those trying to get through the roots. The aim seems to be to push intruders away, going as far as flinging them back with higher branches.

The branches aren't the only security measures in place. As they push forwards they will find creatures coming at them from the trees.

Strangely the creatures look like creatures from their own worlds, any creature they would expect to see in a tree. Regardless of species they attack with claws and with lazers from their eyes. They don't move far from the branches, but try and stop invaders from getting close to the trunk.

For those that get through they will find that as they draw close to the 'trunk' the attacks stop, as if they have reached an eye of a storm.

Going Further

The panel is a simple glowing screen, there are no instructions but their SCA's will beep softly and if they press their SCA to the panel they will find everything vanishes, the trees, branches and weird animals.

Or perhaps it is they themselves that vanish as they find themselves in a large white room, everyone is together here. No matter what sector they had travelled through and which overseer they entered through.

There are four tubes filled with liquid, pink, green, orange and white towering over them.

"Our systems have been compromised." The four voices ring out. "Heal what has been harmed, destroy what should not be here. Find the source and purge it from our world."

The overseers and the room vanish and the voidtreckers find themselves in a forest, a forest that is slowly being choaked by red sickly vines.

The Voidtreckers themselves will find themselves looking different, almost like the hard-light holograms of the Helpmates though they certainly feel like themselves. They are carrying a sturdy stick but nothing else and depending how imaginative they are will quickly find they can alter their appearance to fit their wishes.

Heal and Destroy

The voidtreckers will find themselves drawn towards the vines, if they touch them they will be able to soothe, a glowing blue light from their hands that runs down the vine before it fades away, freeing the trees that it held in its chokehold.

There are many pathways, many vines and it will be a long task to clear it all. It is not long also before the first threats find them. Threats that look like mongeese, small creatures that will lunge at them, teeth bared and claws out.

Luckily the Voidtreckers will quickly learn the ability to soothe is not the only power gifted to them.

On the Outside

For anyone who does not enter through the panel it will seem like their fellow Voidtreckers have entered a deep trance. The area they are sat around the tree is calm, no threats enter there. But outside that area there are still threats, the branches attack, the animals attack and sometimes Helpmates try to evict those they see from the area, claiming it 'restricted.'

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

How could he forget? He's laid quietly in his bunk in the dark and watched the footage of that dragon on his Interface more than once, reliving the quiet wonder of the moment. "Wow," he breathes--

Only to have the rest of that breath stutter out of him as Koumyou yanks him aside. Good thing he's already holding on to him; he grabs at the priest's shoulders to keep on his feet, and scowls at the interrupting creature.

It hits the ground with a squeal, pops back up to its feet almost immediately and reverses on itself to leap at them again. "Oh no you don't!" Devero shouts, throwing out his hand at it.

The water blast nails the little thing and drives it right into the base of a tree with a crack.

"Amazing!" Koumyou is just going to try to herd Devero away from the critter before that audible crack can, uh.

Get upsetting.

Let's go over here, Dev. See these vines? Let's uh, let's go over to them.

~~Magic is hard to control, okay.~~

Devero heard that crack. It was an unmistakable crack. And even as he lets Koumyou turn him away, he cranes his head over his shoulder to see if the creature gets back up again. (It doesn't.)

He closes his eyes, and allows Koumyou to herd him away.

If he's upset by what he's just done, though, he wrangles it down and under his control quickly. His expression is just determined as they reach the next stand of trees. He strides into it with both hands lifted, blue light spilling from under his fingers.

Koumyou knows him better than that, though.

"Magic's hard," the priest says gently, "even when it's easy."

Even after the vines are gone, he stands with his hands on the bark of the trees, his head and shoulders drooping a little.

Feels like Koumyou knows him a little too well, right now.

He lets his hands drop, and a moment later turns to face the priest again. "They're not just trying to inconvenience us, right?" They wouldn't be attacking with such relentless ferocity if they were. They wouldn't be targeting their heads if they were just trying to inconvenience. He jerks his head back the way they came, at the corpse at the base of the tree. "Actions have consequences, and that's-- that's the potential consequence of violent action."

That's what they taught the recruits trying to get into the Scorpion squads, and that's what they used to counsel those Scorpions after every combat casualty. His words may be a little stiff, a little rote, but at least they're something to take refuge in, right?

"Yes," that's basically... a version of 'those who are willing to kill, must be willing to be killed', isn't it?

"If something tries to kill you, and you scare it off, it can just try again later. And maybe it'll do a better job of it on the next go-around. Maybe, also, it got hurt in the first attempt. Maybe you have to kill it on the second."

Koumyou reaches to touch one of the vines on another tree, while they're talking. His other hand still has the katana ready in case of the next ambush.

(There's always a next ambush.)

"Or the third, or the forth. It's less risk, but it's also cleaner to just... cut out all the suffering. That's what I think, anyway."

As for the thing Devero just cracked...

"That was a quick kill. I doubt it even felt it, if it was even a real animal."

Devero watches Koumyou, watches the vine soothe and fade under his fingers, and listens to his words.

"They teach us to only kill as the absolute last resort," he murmurs, stepping past Koumyou to the next tree. "Where I come from, human life is so-- so dear. We lost so many people to the Pathogen, Koumyou. So fucking many that even the lives of the fucking fundie ludds living like cavemen in the jungle are to be respected. We never want to kill them. We never take the fight to them."

(The Saiyan armor he's wearing is startling to flicker and glitch around the edges a little.)

"But they just keep coming at us!" His hand is still on the tree and suddenly he pulls it back and punches into the bark, hard. (Like a shockwave traveling from the point of impact down his arm and mirrored on the other side, the big white gloves and blue sleeves change, turning dark and streamlined.) "They don't give us a choice!"

He whirls to face Koumyou, cradling the now-throbbing hand in his other. "Did you know that every kill I ever made as a Scorpion was judged to be without recourse? That's eight people-- eight fucking people that I gave every chance in the world to make a different choice and they refused, and pushed, and fought, and then I had no choice but to kill them, to stop them from hurting someone innocent." He laughs, a little wildly. (The pixelated zones of change spread across his body until his entire suit of borrowed armor has been replaced.) "I had a clean kill record. Do you have any idea how many Scorpions can say they have a clean kill record!?"

Of course Koumyou doesn't know that. There's no way he could. And Devero seems to realize that, closing his eyes and scrubbing his hand through his hair. (That changes too, the sides trimming down almost to nothing, the hair at the crown of his head lengthening and left pulled back into a topknot as he completes the pass and drops his hand.)

"...Sorry," he mutters, eyes still closed. "Sorry. I don't know where this is coming from. Isn't the fucking time."

"Any time can be 'the time'," Koumyou says gently, moving to another vine but still keeping an eye on... everything. Their surroundings, yes, but also the changes happening to Devero's appearance.

"You're not like me, Devero, I know. And I wouldn't want you to be. You're you."

"I... I know," he says, slumping. The wind seems to have left his sails. "I just... feel..."

But he doesn't really know how he feels. He looks in the direction of the thing he killed, the thing that his heart insists is an animal even if his brain tries to protest otherwise. No matter what it really is, it felt like killing an animal.

If he's having a meltdown like this over some fucking weasel, how's he supposed to-- how will he ever--

"I don't understand why the train fucking wanted me," he says finally, turning away. He rubs his thumb hard over his bloodlessly split knuckles, lets the pain spark up his arm. "I'm not like you. I can't even put down an attacking animal without an-- an attack of conscience."

He shakes his head and walks away to the next tree, putting his hand on the bark without touching the vine. "If it wanted another competent warrior, it picked the wrong guy, that's for fucking sure."

"Maybe it wanted someone who wouldn't choose to kill as a first reaction," Koumyou murmurs, "maybe you're here to keep the rest of us in check."

The priest stays close enough to keep guarding Devero's back, and splits his attention accordingly.

"...Or maybe the train is just as chaotic and nonsensical as the rest of the universe, and you're as likely to find meaning or purpose in its actions as I am to find meaning or purpose in the Gods I ostensibly serve. Which is to say, highly unlikely."

Devero has been so caught up in this idea that the only thing the train wanted him for was his (questionable) combat prowess that Koumyou's words give him visible pause--

...And then a timely reminder that there may be nothing personal going on here at all. He laughs once, soft and surprised, and finally turns to face the priest again.

"Maybe," he concedes. "Maybe I'm putting too much thought into this."

He returns to Koumyou's side like he's drawn there, and holds his arms a little bit open. "Can-- can I have a hug?" he asks softly. "Just for a second?" Because even if all of his worst suppositions are true-- that he was brought here to provide a service beyond his abilities, that he's failing it by being such a poor fighter, that he's a useless waste-- he still has Koumyou. And for a moment he just needs to feel a physical touch of the inexplicable faith that the priest has in him.

Koumyou smiles up at him, and opens his arms to enfold Devero in a tight hug, sword held carefully edge-away. "You needn't even ask," he tells the bigger man. "Unless you just want to."

But Dev has blanket permission; affection on tap!

"Okay. Thank you." Devero leans against him, closing his eyes and just drawing for a moment on Koumyou's surety.

The moment doesn't last long. Even as Devero is starting to disengage, a fresh handful of attackers surges out from deeper in the trees. "These fucking things," Devero growls, releasing Koumyou and stepping back.

He may be developing a bit of a grudge.

And Koumyou is just as lethal with this batch as he has been with the earlier attackers. He darts around their little area as a blur, illusory sword flashing, little furry bodies flying back into the jungle and out of sight.

That isn't to say there's none for Devero to fight, but he doesn't have to. Koumyou's perfectly willing to do all the murdering, here, and also plenty fast.

"...Phew, at least these don't talk!" Yes, that's his takeaway here, once this wave of critters is dealt with. "You can only hear 'Sanzo' screamed at you so many times before it stops sounding like a real word..."

That gets a laugh out of him. No one can make him laugh like Koumyou, despite how utterly stressful this whole thin has shaped up to be. "Thank goodness for small mercies, eh?" he says with a grin. He'd been braced and ready to fight, but none of the creatures had made it past his Sanzo, so he straightens up and beckons him over.

"They get you anywhere?" he asks.

Koumyou offers up his left arm; his sleeve's shredded but there's so much material there that it's not obvious at a glance.

The arm-warmer under it didn't fare any better.

Nor the illusory flesh beneath it.

"Just this arm. The lack of blood is really throwing me off my game, here..."

And he's going to take a moment to squint at Devero, too, as he holds his arm out for the bigger man. "...So when you were upset earlier, your appearance kinda... changed?"

"It's deeply unsettling," Devero says as he pushes the sleeve up to Koumyou's shoulder. And he's not even as, er, acquainted with bloodshed as Koumyou.

Still, he takes Koumyou's hand in his and uses the other to start healing the lacerations. They're really not pretty, and he's not sure if it would be better or worse if they were bleeding proper.

Koumyou's comment makes him look up from the work, brow furrowed quizzically. "It did?"

He looks down at himself and startles a little as he recognizes what he's wearing. "--Shit, it did."

Koumyou stabs his sword down into the ground so that his right hand's free to reach up and touch Devero's topknot, curious. "Your hair, too."

Hey, it's a good distraction for them both from the lacerations on his arm. The weird, bloodless, dry lacerations.

"Is this what you looked like in the guard?"

His eyes track Koumyou's reaching hand as if he might be able to see what's up there himself. He can't, of course, but he doesn't actually have to see it to be able to guess how his hair is, given the way it feels when Koumyou touches it and the context clue of his current outfit.

"...Yeah," he says, returning his eyes to the work of healing the priest's arm. "When I was a Scorpion jockey."

"Ohh? Well, it's very fetching! Not that that surprises me... I'm completely convinced you could make anything look amazing."

And Koumyou beams up at him as he says it, before getting a thoughtful look on his face.

"I wonder if I can..."

Can...?

"Look away for a second, I wanna try to do something to my appearance!"

He laughs, a little self-consciously. "Flatterer," he accuses, affectionate and flustered in equal measure. He's still not used to Koumyou's genuine compliments of his appearance, when for so long his looks have been a commodity to be carefully utilized.

"--Oh? All right," he says. He releases Koumyou and steps back so he can actually turn his back on the priest and give him that moment.

Koumyou bends some of his formidable concentration on his own appearance, and...

It's mostly his clothing that changes, since he's already looking so much younger than normal.

...That and, though he can't tell just from focusing, the raised, blood-red chakra on his forehead has vanished.

"Ta-da! It's not terribly exciting, I know."

Devero turns back and takes in the changes. It's a little strange seeing him in anything but those flowing, off-white robes he's used to. "Huh! Is this the uniform you wore when you were still in training? At--" He lifts his left hand, unthinkingly starting to check in his files to make sure he has the name right, then gets distracted when nothing happens.

...Right. Not his real Interface. He purses his lips and drops the hand again.

"--the mountain temple?" (Nailed it.)

He notices the absence of the chakra last, and leans in for a closer look at Koumyou's forehead as soon as he does. "Your thing is gone!"

Super nailing it.

"Yes! The black belt marked me as a member of the first squad, otherwise it's the same as all the students wore there."

Koumyou even gives a spin, showing off the grey gi with its spiraling black design on his left shoulder.

But that last comment makes the priest blink up at Devero in confusion.

"My... thing is gone?"

What? What thing?

"Should... should I be... concerned?"

He cups Koumyou's cheek high and runs his thumb lightly across the smooth middle of his forehead. "Your thing here," he says. "I'm sorry, I know you've told me what it's called, but it's escaping me right now. The red thing. You didn't always have it?"

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