middleofsomewhere | The Endless River

The Endless River

On the morning of day twenty one of the month of Kazoo there is a message on the ICP screens around the train. Their SCA's will light up the colour of the Void and show the following information.

World #398050 is a void nexus known locally as Tshering. As a void nexus this world has strong links with the void and the connection through worlds. World #398050 is home to the Endless River. Legends speak of this river being powerful enough to send thoughts from one heart to another across any distance. All that is needed is for you to know who it is you wish to reach.

On-board

The dressing carriage is open, filled with clothing best suited to a pleasant spring day. Light, airy and in a rainbow of joyful colours and florals. One closet is entirely filled with wide-brimmed hats bedecked with ribbons, feathers and ornaments. A stack of picnic baskets and containers filled with an alarming variety of passenger-suitable foodstuffs and flasked drinks sits in one corner, next to rolls of thick, weatherproof blankets in the four team colours.

The large box marked Do Not Use Yet, filled with small, empty jute bags, is hopefully still sat in the Luggage carriage, ready for passengers to grab handfuls of its contents as directed by the announcement.

Upon landing (after an appropriate countdown), the train remains on the surface, its carriages partially curved to form a gathering site for the day. Welcome to Tshering, the eighth void nexus!

A Day for Picnics

Tshering, system #398050, is a strange place, only habitable by grace of the passengers' SCAs. The sky is shot through with colours, a cascade of sunsets, and through it, the void shimmering through it in seams like a child's painting of the milky way. Still, there's a beauty to the chaotic mash of colours that soaks through its landscape, and in the shelter of the forests of towering funghi that dot its surface, the Void can go unseen by its visitors.

The temperature seems mild, suitable for the provided clothing, and if there are weather patterns around the world they've taken the day off. The funghi are sturdy enough that what air flow there is doesn't disturb their stalks, and carved grooves and holds in some of the larger examples indicate that climbing them to sit atop their glowing crowns is eminently possible, and, in fact, encouraged.

the Endless River

The Endless River is a font of pure chaos, flowing from a multitude of small rivulets across the area to a central reservoir, from which it pours directly upwards, away from Tshering's surface and out of sight, beyond the world's atmosphere.

Anything bagged and placed within the Endless River will also flow upwards and soon be out of sight, passing, presumably, into the Void. Scattered across the surface of Tshering are small, glittering pebbles, as described in the announcement.

The stones are pleasantly cool to the touch, and all passengers need to do is feel. Messages can be in any form that the Voidtreckers wish. Perhaps words, perhaps feelings, perhaps an image from their mind into the stone. Perhaps a mixture. Once they begin their message the stone will glow slightly and continue to glow as they secure it in the bag and cast it into the river. They will feel, almost instinctively, that they need to focus as they do so, thinking of the person they wish to reach all the while.

There are plenty of bags and many more stones; passengers will not be limited in their sendings.

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[Mono wastes no time placing his hand onto hers, as though she had presented her palm for that express purpose. It's a little confusing to grasp at what she means, she certainly still feels like a person and not just.. light??? She's solid and real and nice. More real than some of the other things he has encountered really.]

"Whoa." [Even lacking the words, at least the impressed awe is written all over his partially covered face.]

"I'm not." [At least he didn't think he was made of light? Still he looks himself over. How does he tell?]

[In spite of holding her hand out, in spite of the words "you can touch me," she hadn't expected to actually be touched, and it nearly sparks a note of surprise from her. She's still not used to it -- that sudden spark of sensation through her synapses or the idea that anyone would want to.]

[But no, this is okay. This is Mono. Like Steven, he has some of that impulsivity, but it's kind. He'd offered his hand during their food fight escape, and she'd taken it. This is okay.]

[She eases, lets the warmth of it settle through her.]

[Her palm is definitely solid, cool like fresh water. It definitely feels no different than flesh and bone. There's no phasing through it. Gems have definitely managed to create a realistic projection of themselves over the years]

[Another one of her little smiles escapes at his open awe, but her head tilts at his statement.] Most people aren't. Most are more like you.

Are you a human? [He does look like one, but she's seen a lot of different types of people at this point. It's better not to assume.]

"Mmhmm!" [The answer is automatic and he takes his tiny hand back to rest on the ground as he does so. Only to pause with a frown. He was, wasn't he?

Sure he was.. small and.. traveled through TV's, and was a l̡͘i̡t̷̕tl̢͜e̢͠ ҉͘͝d̸̶̨i̡f̵̧f̸e̵͡r͠è̷̴n̴͠t but that.. didn't disqualify him from humanity, right? He could still get bigger! Not that he particularly wants to be big like the threats he outwit, but he still might be big and strong one day..! Probably???]

"I'm... a kid." [He finally settles on, picking absentmindedly at the grass.]

"Do.. y'know kids?"

[He says he's human, but then promptly looks confused. Concerned?]

[Is it possible for someone to not be sure what they are? It's hard for Lapis to imagine this. Gems are born knowing what they are, what their purpose is. It's harder to imagine a life that's different than a life where the original purpose is unknown. Her head tilts a little, watching him. He's definitely the tiniest human that she's met, but she doesn't have a great sense of metrics on that, either. Maybe it's perfectly possible for humans to be this small.]

[At his question, her eyes brighten a little, and she nods. She does know kids. In some ways they've been easier than adults.]

We don't have them, but Steven is one. And Frisk. And Agent 3. And Connie. They're . . . little humans? [Except for Agent 3, who wasn't a human, but she thinks there were similar principles.] I used to see them sometimes on the street with their parents. I guess they have to take some time to grow, and the older humans take care of them.

[It's a very strange concept, but she can't help but think it must be nice in some ways . . . Greg obviously cared very deeply for Steven -- an immutable tie that bound even through the tangles of the Labels' mind control.]

"So.. many." [He listens to Lapis rattle them off in wonder. Mono isn't sure even he can say he has met that many other children. Despite having their faces fresh in his mind; the ones in the burning building, a loner with more bandages than clothes.]

"That's not..." [Mono nearly interrupts in his haste. It's an idea that sounds right in his head. There's a picture of what a family unit should be. A symbol of a blue stick figure and a pink one with a smaller version of each beneath. But it was just the kind of thing that you saw in a picture. An ideal. Fake. That couldn't be normal. Big beings cared for the little ones? Is that why everyone here is so nice? He draws his legs in closer to hold himself.]

"It's not. Like that." [Not where he's from.]

[He seems . . . worried now? That tucking the limbs close movement is something she does when she feels uncertain, insecure. There's a reassurance in it, having arms and legs close. Security. She can't entirely pinpoint why; again, not having family like humans do is standard for her kind.]

[. . . Though there were always other Gems around her, from the moment she emerged. Others to show her what to do, how to do it. Others to give companionship, a sense of security in numbers and shared purpose. Maybe that was "family" its own way.]

[(She tries not to think about that too hard. The thought is a small, dark spot in her mind, hungry and eager to gnaw, and all too ready to bare its teeth. Instead she pulls her focus back to him.)]

It's not that way for you?

"Mm-mm." [Mono shakes his head, withdrawing further and unwilling to make eye contact. Why does nothing here make sense? Why does it sound like her description is the way things are supposed to be?... What did he do wrong, to come from such a different place?]

"They... They um.." [There's no good way to begin to describe it. He doesn't have the means. Or the courage. He's suddenly struck by how foreign being on this shore really feels; on another world, with someone from yet another. Being around so many happy friendly people has been nice but it's alienating too.

Instead Mono reaches into his pocket and pulls out a jute bag to offer to Lapis. She is probably starting to guess he won't be using it much himself.]

[Definitely discomfort at the least, possibly pain. Lapis recognizes that.]

[A moment of hesitation, and she reaches out to touch the top of his head under his hat. Her fingers rest there a moment. He doesn't have to talk about if he doesn't want to. She doesn't like to be pushed if she's not ready, either. But. This used to comfort Frisk, soothe Steven -- a quiet expression of appreciation, of trust, and "I'm here."]

Thank you . . . [The words are soft as she accepts the jute bag. The understanding is implicit: He doesn't plan to use it. There's no one that he wants to or can speak with.]

[She hesitates another moment, then says softly,] Before where I was before, there was only one person I would have wanted to send this to . . . and I'd only met him recently. Before that . . . there wasn't anyone. Or . . . there stopped being anyone.

I don't know if this world can be the same as my last one . . . if there can be people that, if I left, I would want to send stones to. I don't . . . even know right now if I want there to be; it feels like I'm giving up. Not trying hard enough.

[Her eyes slip closed a moment.] But maybe . . . if it happened for me in another place, maybe there could be people for you too. Maybe there'll be people you'll want to send stones to someday.

Maybe people who would want to send stones to you, too.

[While she's not sure for herself on the latter, too uncertain about anyone's regard, she likes to hope. Maybe. Maybe they miss her as she's missing them.]

[Mono lets her softly card her fingers into his hair. By the sound of her voice she's unsure, maybe she thinks she isn't doing a good job, but Mono doesn't care. After a moment he leans into the headpats before giving in and turning to just bury his face against the leg beside him altogether.

Her words help. They help a lot. That was the thing about coming from a setting where language grew obsolete: none of this has ever been said to him before. The grass bunches between his tiny closed fists.

Maybe things can be different. Maybe someone here won't hate him. It can change...]

"You." [His very limited vocabulary doesn't have the right way to communicate his thoughts on the nuances of otherworldly travel.]

"You left." [Still, he wants to try.]

"Your world? Before?" [If she's comparing the train to her previous situation...]

[She's not used to providing comfort or reassurance -- to having anyone hope for that from her. She doesn't know if she's good at it or not; it often feels like she's groping in the dark, hoping to touch, hoping to make connection. Being around others, witnessing their points of pain, feeling others try to provide some balm to her own aches, has made her want to try. She was helped in Vista City -- so much more deeply than she ever thought she would be. She has to give some of it back.]

[Her chest gives a little flutter of surprise as he leans in, buries his face against her. But . . . maybe this is okay too. Her fingers smooth the tendrils of his hair, sliding gently between the strands.]

[Then he asks his question, and she pauses. There's a pause of her hand with it, brief. It's not a secret, really. But some of it is attached to things that are harder for her to talk about. Things that linger in her mind like the dark spot from earlier, lurking and hungry.]

I was . . . in two different places before. First on a planet called Earth. [Even more hesitation.] That wasn't . . . by choice. But. There was someone there who became important. When I learned he'd been taken to another world, I promised him I would go. That world was like this one. It drew people from all kinds of different places -- different universes and times. I'm not sure if I could have gotten back to Homeworld if I'd tried.

[So places like the train were common enough to stumble on multiple times for some people? Still the start of the story has some unsettlingly familiar beats to his own.]

"Went after. Someone too."

[It had been the first thought on Mono's mind. All he could think of the instant he hit that clearing. Why had that been? When they were taken away, he vowed to get them back. To fix things. Be anything other than the child who cowered when others needed him before. And that was only Lapis' story for one of them. She named many more. She truly did make friends in her journey towards saving her important one. Maybe that jutebag could be important for someone. He shifts to look at the hand holding it.]

"Gonna. Say anything?"

[He went after someone, which means they were important enough to follow in the first place . . . but he isn't sending a stone of his own. Something happened to the someone -- maybe they were killed, or managed to get away on their own, leaving Mono behind. Or maybe something happened between them, damaging the connection.]

[No matter the reason, he's alone.]

[. . . This is something she understands.]

[She hesitates, then says softly,] Someday . . . I'd like to know the story.

[When he's ready to give it.]

[As for his question, her expression slips a little, recalled back to the small collection of stones piled in her lap. Just as soft,] I don't . . . know what to say.

[How can she convey all that she needs to -- wants to -- give? What happened to her, what she learned from Lesedi's room, a request for their forgiveness, that she's not sure when she's coming back, if she's coming back.]

["If" is a word she doesn't want to confront.]

[And the even more impossible, if "if" is a reality: What they mean to her. Have meant to her. That she has to give; she owes it.]

[But she's not sure if she could readily say those things. Or what the words should be if she could.]

[She balances the stones on her palm, watching the colors shift in the light. They're so small, but they seem very heavy.]

Nothing seems like enough.

Anything I could say . . . is not enough.

[Lapis is considerate. Mono knows what she means, it's the same sentiment Della shared only if he 'wants to', only if he's 'ready.' Only he doesn't know if he ever can be ready. Admitting it happened to someone made it seem more real. What if just mentioning it in its full truth shattered the blissful illusion he currently found himself in? Mono doesn't know if he could take that but then, it was his choice to bring it up. Perhaps some things aren't so easy to let go of. Much like the issue Lapis is facing.]

"Don't need words." [She doesn't have to 'say' it, Mono wants to specify. There was a second option. He places his hand upon her own, atop the stones, in what he hopes is a reasurring manner.]

"They said. The stones--" [He fidgets, mentally sorting through how to sort a more complex sentence.]

"The stones. They send. Anything." [Or so he had overheard. Before the train, Mono managed to get on mostly without words and Lapis clearly had plenty to say, so...]

"Send feelings?" [What is something Lapis wanted her friend to feel?]

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The Endless River

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