middleofsomewhere | The Waking of Neran

The Waking of Neran

"Good morning Voidtreckers and passengers. Today is day twenty one of the month of Orchestra. We will be arriving in System #78961112094711 later today and the dressing carriage is open for your use."

It is indeed, with thick winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves in all sizes. There are also some bags suitable for carrying food, for anyone who wants to add to the festival food with more food!

They have the morning to prepare before another announcement.

"Shortly arriving in System #78961112094711. The weather is extremely cold, voidtreckers and passengers should wrap up warm and wear their SCA's at all times. Arriving in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."
The train shakes as they leave the void and they will see dark skies with glowing flecks of light falling down around them. It's only a glimpse before there is rock to both sides as they enter the landing area.

The Waking of Neran

... ARRIVAL TO OSIGA

THE VOIDTRECKER EXPRESS PULLS INTO AN OPEN HIGH-STACKED PARKING STATION, FILLED ALREADY BY A VARIETY OF VEHICLES. Darkness and the cold spills into where they pull in, lights and signs around to guide the Voidtreckers who exit the craft where they need to go, elevator and teleporting systems available to choose from.

For those turn their gaze to where the cold comes, they will see a view of the world: a landscape of mountains lit in burning bright blue. Like Christmas and city lights, they can be seen in the far distance, and the sky too glows with a shimmering, falling blue. It looks like a slow rain, while farther up, the twinkling of actual stars can be glimpsed.

This will be their view of the world for three Osiga days - 210 hours, give or take.

The lower floor widens into a train-like station, shuttles ready to take them into Osiga proper in short five minute rides. They just need to figure out they need to scan their SCAs at the turnstiles, which will beep with approval, and send a map to their SCA of the grotto.

With a handy dot to their hotel.

... THE IRUE GROTTO

HOTEL. THE EXTERIOR OF THE HOTEL IS STONY, A WALL OF UNEVEN ROCK WITH SLITS FOR WINDOWS CLIMBING UPWARD. It gives off a sparse, cold impression, but the interior is anything but. Inside the floors are smoother, a carpet in the middle of a lobby, and the walls are decorated with colourful paints and endless rugs and furs. There's seating, a roaring fire in one corner, and lighting set to a cosy mood.

There's stairs that can be taken, but also elevators. The bedrooms are much the same as the lobby, with paints and furs all around - the furs especially covering the beds, along with hand stitched quilts. In the centre is a fire pit, set with heatstones than wood or coal, and extras in a container by a wall with safety instructions of how to move them (with tongs and gloves).

Outside the rest of the grotto can be seen, a mish-mash of layers closer to a labyrinth. There's curtains for privacy, and also a screen to help blot out the sound.

FOOD & SIGHTS.

NOW, THE IRUE GROTTO CAN BE EXPLORED. The grotto is easy to get lost in, with stone stairs and archways doubling as bridges to lead to different levels, but always with something to see. Museums and art galleries fill most of the lower layers down, a few shops between of traditional trinkets and garments for those who come out interested in taking a piece of Osiga back with them. There are also day classes, with candle-making a big one on the first night.

Water runs through constructed streams, small but always in travel. They fall off into small waterfalls, eventually gathering into pools that always ensure drink is around. But there's also drinking spaces around, wall coves where servers mind the drinks, and people gather around on crouched seating. Privacy isn't a big deal in Osiga; visitors welcomed into conversation freely. The drinks favour the strong, spicy and sweet. Their traditional drinks are a fiery whisky and a sweet creamy milk drink flavoured by spices that taste very much like cinnamon and nutmeg. It is strongly alcoholic though there is a non alcoholic version as well. There are other drinks available of course from other planets but visitors are encouraged in a good natured way to try the good stuff.

And let's not forget the food. Most traditional Osigian dishes are spicy yet sweet, fatty, and largely meat. There are also food baskets all over, filled with wrapped snacks free for taking, or to add your own. Never let your neighbour go hungry. What will you find, dipping your hand in: a treat, or a mistake?

SORS PARKS, OPEN SKIES. THE FARTHER FROM THE HOTELS AND STATION VISITORS GO, THE MORE THE SKY BECOMES VISIBLE, AND WITH IT THE FALLING SNOW. Except this isn't snow, and those who venture out will figure this soon enough. There are sors parks up ahead, hard to miss for how they glow a brilliant blue, tall erratic sculptures shaped like an abstract mess. They're cold, even colder than the rest of the grotto, and near every entrance are wooden racks with coats and scarfs hanging from pegs, a bucket of heatstones to stick in pockets.

Keeping company is better than not. Anyone who goes in alone will find the chill uncomfortable to those who have someone else nearby, SCAs working stronger together. Paths somehow stay free from being covered in the icy mess, and every few yards are grit bins with small bags to put the contents in, instructions as to what to do.

And that's to throw them at the sculptures, into the air, and watch as the hardened ice disperses into a fizzle of lights. The sight is considered beautiful, and especially fun for kids and couples.

... ANAN & THE MINISTRY

It's maybe an hour or so after their arrival when a message comes through the comms on their SCA's.

boop beep boop beep / boop boop boop/ boop boop/ beep//
beep beep / boop beep//
beep beep beep boop/ boop boop boop/ beep beep/ boop beep beep / boop / beep boop beep/ beep/ boop beep boop beep/ boop beep boop/ beep/ beep boop beep/ beep beep beep//

"It didn't close the hack. I think your Voidtrecker Express likes me." Anan sounds almost triumphant. "Glad you all came. I'm at the drinking space next to the Irue Museam of Osigan Art."

For those that wish to go and meet her, they can.

... THE WAKING OF NERAN

NIGHT ONE: REMEMBERING. It's hard to tell when 'night' begins when the world is in darkness and there are more hours in the day then they are perhaps used to. But things begin to wind down a little, the art houses and museums close and the day activities are wrapped up.

People begin making their way to the main streets where the parade will go. Some people may have made candles throughout the day but there are also long candles for sale and 'fire' bearers carrying large torches to light the candles. The main lights are all turned off, plunging the streets into darkness lit only by the candles and the faint distant glow of sors.

The parade itself has large lit floats, literally floating above the ground, the lights are in intricate shapes. There are light dancers- people dressed completely in black to blend in to the night, with ribbons of light doing feats of acrobatics to music- instruments and volcaless voices weaving melodies.

After the parade passes by people move to the streams, where their floating candles that can be lit and sent on their way. There are designated areas for the tall candles to be placed- almost shrine like with areas to pray or think or sing- the helpful guides will assist anyone and are very open to the different ways people from various worlds and cultures may wish to remember their dead.

Afterwards people are encouraged to drink, eat, spend time with the living and swap stories of the dead. Dance and sing. It is upbeat, joyous and the tears are meant to be cathartic.

NIGHT TWO: PERSEVERING. After another day of activities- or resting and recovering from the excess of the night before the grotto again is ready in anticipation. The side of the grotto open to the sky is packed with people, ledges and railings packed with people. Even the buildings on this side of the grotto have opened their doors to allow people up on their roofs to watch the firework display.

Sparklers are sold, as are snacks and drinks and a voice comes through speakers throughout the space.

"NERAN! On this night you fight!" The crowd cheers. "Hear our dedication, return to us! For tonight is a night of COURAGE!"

The crowd cheers again and the fireworks begin. Loud and colourful, beautiful shapes, almost like dances in the sky. It's loud and it's busy but the atmosphere is great, throughout the night within the crowd there are marriage proposals, declarations of new jobs, decisions to travel the void. Bravery and courage abound- helped probably by the strong whisky that is flowing freely.

NIGHT THREE: UNITY. The festival continues, though it's a slightly later start on day three for many who are nursing hangovers, having a well earned sleep in preparation for the final night or just frantically trying to remember what declarations they had made the night before.

But the activities are still happening throughout the grotto- though the guides might advise any obvious voidtravellers that they may wish to nap before 'night' time, especially if they are not used to day/night cycles this long. The final night doesn't stop til sunrise after all and no one wants to miss the sun rising!

As the time comes for the party to start every square and every street is packed, music blares through speakers. Traditional Osigan music mixed with styles and music from other planets in the galexy. The traditional Osigan music has many layers, deep bass instruments that seem to make the ground itself rumble.

There is dancing, led by guides and locals. They are big circle dances, loud energetic and done in unity. There are callers who keep everyone in time and remind them of the steps but it is mostly an exercise in organised chaos.

But very fun organised chaos. There's extra chairs and benches set around for people who would rather watch or need a break from the endless swirl of dancers. There's plenty of water in large barrels for people to help themselves and other drinks are available to buy.

The party goes on for hours but eventually the music stops and there is an announcement that they have an hour left until sunrise. People begin moving out to find the best spots to watch. Up high on the cliffs people spread out rugs and blankets and settle, waiting.

The atmosphere is one of anticipation, people passing around drinks and snacks. Then there is a hush, a cry as for the first time in a month the first ray of light streaks across the sky.

Neran has awoken. The sun has returned once more.

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It's as if the universe had heard their conversation. The strange sort of coincidence of these festivities so easily co-aligning with a previous desire to do exactly this: honor the dead. He's thankful that it turned out this way and finds the small group of people who had gathered together in memory of the crew that Yondu lost some time ago. Not being a person that had known them or that had known Yondu for all that long, Tobirama chooses to stay mostly in the background and observing for now.

Later into the evening was when the man chose to find the Centaurian with a bottle of rice wine in hand. It was far from sweet; smooth, but with a strong warming burn. Perhaps unexpected of him, he cracks it open and hands it to the man. "May they find their next life as adventurous as their former one."

Later on into the night, however, somehow -- who knows how, ninja and their ways, really -- there would be a small giftbox on Yondu's room's nightstand, a trinket within.

"Heeeey, Hoss. Look at you, extra cozy I see."

Yondu's not needed more than the gloves at the moment, despite being bald. He stands up well to the temperatures and it's not like he could cover his head anyway. Not without looking like a tent.

He's not surprised considering their first meeting. Even if Yondu had drank significantly more, he wasn't at the point of fucked up that anything slipped his mind. "Thanks for the idea. I still hope some of 'em might have found their own magic villages or trains or ships out there, but it was important that they got remembered. Real Ravagers, right up until the end. Knew the value of honor over money."

Not that they didn't like money? But they still would have followed Yondu's decision to choose the batteries and not kill galactically renowned heroes.

Some people were impressively stupid when it came to matters that required even a modicum of extra thought. Regardless what costs would be lost by choosing one side over the other, money cannot be enjoyed by the dead. Reprocussions for every choice made. Still, he didn't know the full story but he did know people who made poor political choices in their leadership. Some that benefitted them quite well until their death but in that benefit destroyed countless lives of those sworn to be protected by them.

Matters for another time.

Anyway, take the damn drink Yondu. Once taken, he crosses his arms staring flat at the man who chooses to speak about the recent attire change. There's an eyeroll somewhere there even if it never actually happens. Just something you can feel, you know? In good sport, or something like that.

"You're welcome," he says with a dip of his chin. "I'll hope this for you as well," and not say 'but if not,' as such a thing is surely already in the man's mind. It's nice, though, that Yondu seems... relieved? And in a shocking turn of events, Tobirama places a hand on the Centaurian's shoulder. "Loyalty and honor are everything. I am glad this has helped."

"What? I ain't foolin' with ya." He can feel that eyeroll, sir. Though sometimes it is hard to tell when he's being serious. "I've been luggin' around the blanket my girl made for me. It's cold as shit."

And then he takes a long drink, pulling a tight face after and following that with another easy smile. There's always something a little nice when someone so isolated can reach out to him, even a little. Because it means that someone finds him a little less dangerous, a little less of a threat. That he's more 'friend' than 'impending doom'.

It's just a hand on his shoulder but it means one less person is afraid of him.

"Yeah, he admits more somberly. The grin doesn't fade." I think I might even be able to sleep again." In fact his mind had even been settling since he decided to do it. A tiny dose of recovery he couldn't find in anything else he'd tried.

A huff finishes that conversation. Though the blanket gets an appreciative nod. As for Tobirama? It's one of those weird things that comforts him. Soft, warm fur. It certainly was colder than that which he had grown used to but it didn't trouble him much. Fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle and he takes his own pull, less concerned about appearance of doing such a thing as one might think. Though, as always, he'll measure himself. As he always does.

"That's good to hear." He's never thought of you as dangerous, Yondu. Though he's certain that you are. He's never been afraid either. It's just the person that he is. Slow to warm up. Critical, and cautious, and guarded. "Sleep can be rare for people with heavy hearts."

"For paranoid bastards, too. So I had two things workin' against me."

Though his paranoia has ebbed significantly in nearly six months of being here, five plus anyway, and that's concerning.

But it occurs to him, then, to reach into his pocket and pull something out, wrapped in a brightly colored handkerchief. "Look, it ain't much, but I owe you somethin' nice. And personal." Inside the handkerchief he hands him? A black cord fitted around a metallic pendant. Gold in color, but not gold in feel.

"We call it yaka-" though when he says it, it sounds very guttural. "-It's 'the livin' metal'. It listens. If you hold it when you speak, you feel it move. Run energy through it, and it fights gravity. Higher the noise, the more it responds. I ain't incredibly attached to bein' a Centaurian, but this part of us? I feel it. The world I was born on is the only one what can make it."

Suppose that was also a reason though he'd never even considered it until Yondu spoke of it. For him it was such a normal thing. To be a light sleeper. To always have one eye open. It was a way of life; of their life. He lifted out a hum in his throat, a nod.

The gift, though, was not expected. For a moment, Tobirama observed the man confused. What had he done to deserve this? Head tipped to the side. It's nice, too. Simple and clean. Just as he likes. "Ah -- and what have I done to deserve something like this?"

"It's the way that you light up the room like a ray of sunshine when you come waltzin' in." He teases all friendly like. But then more seriously adds. "I weren't raised on my homeworld. Most of what I know I picked up from other Centaurians in less than favorable circumstances alongside me. But I know we got tribes.

"Well, I ain't got no Ravager clan anymore. I ain't got a tribe. I gotta make my own. So whenever I find someone I'd like to consider a part of my tribe or clan, I either give 'em a Ravager badge or a piece of yaka metal."

Two different kinds of kinship in thought there.

For a very small moment, Tobirama almost looked mortified. Even though the tone was a tease it simply wasn't a thing people typically said to him. Moments later, his arms crossed and head tilted down for a second.

"Hn," came with an exhaled breath. "You tease like my idiot brother would." His tone is far more dry but given their previous conversations its a good guess that this is a fond remark even if it sounds less so. Untensing with a sigh, pale fingers grasp the gift with care. He takes his time to examine it, the weight, the texture. Appreciate it.

He is... curious if there are differences between who gets what, and he's sure there is (if this was him there would be) but he wont speak it. Instead, Tobirama places it around his neck and lets it fall. "Thank you," a moment. "The gesture is well appreciated."

The worst thing is when you're a little cute when you're annoyed but Yondu knows better to push his luck. It's more just a general feel that makes the difference. Something about the emotional depth to their interactions. A desire for peace versus an encouragement to fight. He snorts a small laugh and looks down.

"I dunno. I been nothin' but sentimental all night, I guess it got me feelin' feisty." Sentiment is a drug that occasionally needs washing down with wry humor.

"Well, with good reason I'd say." All the joking aside, this was a memorial during a night that was oddly fitting for such a thing. He knew of some cultures and practices that instead celebrated a death in remembering their legacy and the life that they lead. Regardless of how its done, though, sentiment is... expected. "Feisty is a bold choice of wording."

He pauses for some time. Eyes look up, sake warming his body with another pull before passing it back to the other man. "I can imagine this in space." A nod, as if he really was processing the image.

"Yeah, well, I'm a bold kind of idiot." He plays off Tobirama's own 'insult'. Why not. He doesn't take it seriously, except when someone is obviously looking at him as 'lesser'.

"A full Ravager captain's funeral has 100 ships doing this. A stretch of brightness that lights up the sky like an arm of the milky way. Nothin' but brilliance..." There's a pause and his expression stutters. It still stings, that it never happened for him. He knows in the span of a day there's no way Stakar could have forgiven him, right? No way he'd ever find out Ego was dead and he had a role in it. That he gave his life for the right thing.

He's hung on a word until he finds his footing again. "But they were about like me. This ain't as big, but even the littlest spectacle felt huge, so long as it was meant specifically for us."

His weakness. Bold idiots. Just like his elder brother. Just like Naruto. He lets out a grunt but the perk of a smile at the corner of his lips isn't as hidden as he'd prefer it to be. And he happily listens to the man reminisce. Their funerals were often quite somber and minimal. Though as years have passed he has learned ways to honor them on their death days and throughout the year in methods that are more suiting than a simple goodbye.

"It sounds extravagant." He didn't know the story behind it all but a community that's so tightly knit, various clans banding together to honor one of their own sounds... nice. Sounds like what they've all worked so hard for. "I hope this is enough. If much smaller in size."

He does notice that touch of a smile, considers it a victory worthy of another round of fireworks as far as he's concerned. But he isn't going to draw attention to it.

"Oh yeah. Best part about 'em was that particular portion of my men were the ones best able to make the most out of the littlest things. They'd already be piss drunk an' tryin' to shame me. Woulda annoyed the piss out of me then but now I'm more'n happy to do it in their name."

He taps his head where some of the sors has gathered like snow, catching and reflecting the light of the show and his fin's soft red glow, and brushes it off irritably in a flash of bright sparkles.

"Hair is weird but sometimes I envy y'all when it's chilly out.

He knew people like that, many like that, and it was certainly not the type of person that he Tobirama himself was but it had always been nice to watch them even if his bland stone face rarely showed it. Honestly, it was where Tobirama drew his most joy from. Especially when others could enjoy themselves because he'd laid the groundwork to allow it to happen. Created the systems and safety measures and community to allow it to happen.

He recognized the reminiscing with a nod and hum. A brow raising toward the other man. "Luckily we have this," a nod at the bottle, "to help ease the chill."

Yondu doesn't find it that bland, but of course whenever Yondu's hiding his expression he takes resting bitch face to a whole new tier. Straight up contempt, even if nothing's going on.

He nods and downs some of his drink. Waits until he's swallowed it down to comment. "Eh, I can handle the cold better than y'all anyway... Though that does look pretty nice, maybe I should look into some kinda furry scarf while I'm here." Not that he looks like he's at all made for soft things, practically being constructed out of blue leather at this point.

Tobirama observes the man before, very flatly, stating: "you'd manage it."

It's a comfort. He is, oddly, a tactile person. Just not when it came to other people. That took quite a bit more time to develop. And truthfully he hadn't even noticed the resting bitchface. Suppose he, too, was used to it. His brother was very expressive but the people he worked with were much less so. Especially in creating ANBU.

"A trait of your species?" A moment. "Most of our kind, I think, we're adaptable. Where I hail from doesn't get this cold though I'm less troubled by it. Some live in much more difficult environments."

"I noticed, it suits ya. That adaptibility. There's a few other species very close to y'all. Mine is... well I don't know as much about 'em as I'd like, but I know my people were really outdoorsy, connected with nature on a deep level." One that atrophied within him.

"Our ladies have pouches they carry their babies in.... not like pouches they make. But... like, built into their-" He makes a motion over his upper torso. An odd conversation but, you know, it's kind of nice when someone acknowledges you're a little different in more than an aesthetic way.

"It's an important trait to have," he'll comment before listening to Yondu speak about his people. "Have you attempted to get back in touch with your roots?" Outdoorsy and connected with nature. He could think of a few clans like this, and it's a little different when words of how children are carried and cared for comes up but who is he to judge on what's nature for them?

"Its a human condition, I think, to assume anything that looks similar to us is like us in all aspects." Thankfully his world had people, clans, that while rarer than the usual had unique traits specific to them. Still human, but not the 'standard breed' he supposed you could say. "Until proven otherwise, the idea of different doesn't enter our thoughts."

"Nah, I never went back. I uh... Well, I'm supposed to have a natural fin an' mine was removed so I just... y'know. Didn't figure I had much of a place there so I stuck to space. But I've got a better understandin' since I picked up the knack for negotiatin' with the flora of wherever I'm at."

He tends to consider himself more 'Ravager' than 'Centaurian'. He'd mostly disassociated himself with his species before the train. Not out of malice, but no particular sense of belonging. It was the few other people that were interested in him not being like them that pushed him to dig up old memories and habits.

"Well othern' not bein' red blooded an' a few reproductive differences we got a lotta organs in the same places. So it's not too far off. So don't worry, you ever gotta put me down quick the same spots'll do it." He actually chuckles after that grim little bit of humor, even if he has outright said to people that if he should ever regress to his former self, he would want them to shut him down quick. And he knows that's not impossible. "Who knows what shit the Void'd pull with us."

His brows ebb inward when hearing about forced removal of Yondu's fin. Perhaps correctly or incorrectly Tobirama assumes its that which lies on Yonu's head. Something that happened when the man had been sold to slavery as a young child? His frown appears quite clearly for a moment. In the end, though, home is where you make it. If he's a Ravager then he's a Ravager.

"Do your people have that ability themselves or is it merely in line?" He pauses, thinks to speak of Hashirama but silences on that. Thinks a few more minutes. "I understand that was suppose to be humor but I have to ask whether there's some truth behind such a request."

Wordlessly he tips his head forward a little and taps the base of his fin, indicating the mess of scars around it. Just a silent confirmation that, yeah, it was done to him. But at least as much as he's proudly a Ravager, he is becoming more and more Centaurian. The ring of yaka he presented Tobirama with enough of a gesture of that.

"Other Centaurians I came across growin' up said they could sorta... sense things wrong? Like they could tell if a tree was sick or somethin'. I never got it until I picked the thing up. I figure it just started workin' with what I wasn't usin'."

He nods vigorously then. "Oh yeah, take my ass out. Just put me the hell down if I go apeshit. I'm rigged to kill a lotta people real quick without havin' to go far. You have my permission an' even request to do so. I'd be in your debt."

Tobirama observes but doesn't comment on it. A conversation better reserved when trust and possibly drinks were served. It felt intrusive and too bluntly intrusive to pry into what seemed quite frankly like child torture as much as child slavery. Though was it possible to have one without the other?

"Very well, then." Came quietly with a nod. A tip of the bottle before one more drink is swallowed down. "Let's not dwell on that right now, though. Tonight is your night for your clan to be remembered and celebrated."

He didn't even seem all that discouraged to talk about being taken down, which should be mildly concerning in itself.

But he practically beams at the mention of his crew again, still glad that he's doing right by them. Finally. They're not just some dark secret, a shame, a failure. They're acknowledged in having been loyal men. Not good. Not by a mile. But dutiful and steadfast and brave.

They had faith in him, and all he can do now is make it so it wasn't misplaced. "I know you ain't really a heavy drinker, but enjoy all you want. I don't wanna have to take any of these bottles back to my room. An' Soldat made a cake if you're in the mood for somethin' sweet."

Edited 2021-12-30 00:42 (UTC)

It's not a request he's never heard before, but if push came to shove Tobirama had a strong defense he was far more likely to do. Cut the man off from others. Talk him down or reason with him. Not something he was going to tell Yondu, though. Other matters more important right now like Yondu taking the time to experience this; find peace.

"You have big shoes to fill if you're trying to encourage bad habits in me," its flat, but has just enough tone suggesting amusement. He nods, though. Likely to pass the rest of the bottle off to another. Until then, he gives the man a nod and steps to the side. "Appreciate the offer. I should leave you to meet with friends." A pause. Again (twice in an hour, wow!) a hand comes to Yondu's shoulder. "Let this ease your mind."

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yondu - 2021-12-30 01:16 (UTC) - Expand

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The Waking of Neran

FIRST DAY - RAVAGER MEMORIAL

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I'll just say the fin thing here

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