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.

OOC NOTES

OOC post. Ask questions here. The Ministry's testimony form is here

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Your testimony can be spoken into your SCA."

Ten-Nank doesn't bother to turn to look at Wei Wuxian from their place, but their answer isn't curt or unkind. Weary, tired, but that's the same as their voice has always been. Watching the falling sors outside the window hole, as still as the concrete their arms lean against.

"If that's preferred," he says, taking his drink when Ten-Nank remains as they are. All fine by him, not being a man who requires anyone else's attendance to be particularly aimed his way; if he had, it had always been to an end and redirection, growing up. As an adult, it'd been fraught. After not death, and his not quite resurrection, what then?

Resignation, slow learning toward something akin to the hope that'd once lit his way. Hopeless, but in the better way, to surrender to hope again and again, even when it proves scant relief.

"I don't know all that the ministry was asking for, so if you hear me rambling something useless, or not useful enough, please inform this one." A touch of easy sort of respect, to speak of himself in third person briefly, before he finds his own easy place to lean, likewise looking outside.

Circular, and his mind recalls far different environs, Lan Zhan's courtyard, snow that fell beyond the sliding doors. The quiet that muffles silence itself, and the chill sweeps through him without gaining purchase. Does he need to change a setting on his SCA? Fascinating question. He glances down on it, speaking anyway.

"Name, Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian. Is age going to be important? I don't know what to say counts, but in total I couldn't be more than forty-something, the early side, and might count much younger, depending on what's accepted as 'living' versus not and so forth." A flick of his last two fingers on the hand holding his glass, and another sip of alcohol. Cold as it is, the warmth as it burns down his throat is familiar, lulling.

"You wish for feedback as you fill it in? Well. Did you attend the meeting before? I ask, as some don't. Some fill it without attending."

There's no added judgment to this; or, their voice is nothing but judgment, depending on how one reads the tone of someone who doesn't do anything for the misgivings their tone can provide. Nevertheless, they go on without more than a beat, a pause.

"-- But age, age is for whatever is appropriate to your own society's way of counting age. Age is usually in terms of 'living', for some. Not always mean, 'alive'. Depends on your existence. Matters little to me, personally. Individuals like these things. Oh," they say suddenly. "--Yes, they want age in terms of 'existing'."

"Your initial meeting with the group? Yes, though I excused myself from it when you invited questions." A small lift of his shoulders, but then he's heard enough of what Ten-Nank had said then to be slightly aware, when he thinks back to—not long before. Just enough. Of personal interest, and not shuffled out of his mind for more relevant information, or other things he cared for more.

He turns his head enough to somewhat study Ten-Nank as they explain what age is for purposes of the testimony being asked for by the ministry. A nod at the end, lips curling up into an easier smile, even if it fails to reach his eyes. No one's fault, really, but what existence one might consider... hah.

"Then to keep it brief, against my own better efforts, I've existed for forty-some years according to my world's concept of years. Almost half of those were in... ah, doesn't matter. Won't change the answer in the end!"

Sixteen years in darkness, a body and awareness suspended but aware, concept of time elongated to meaninglessness, and yet those years passed and he opened his eyes to what? A cold floor bloodied by a desperate young man, curses carved into flesh, and a mask to disguise who he wasn't, and who he was. Still time that belonged to him, as it belonged to that miserable soul, Mo Xuanyu, now living in the same suspension that held Wei Wuxian a blink away from death. No way back without a sacrifice he's callus enough to admit he won't make himself.

"What came next? Was it asking that one thing... species? I wasn't sure what that meant exactly, unless it's classifying living human versus spirit, ghost, demon, uncultivated animal, cultivated animal, and so on."

Ten-Nank doesn't speak, doesn't move as Wei Wuxian speaks to himself. Continuing to look outside, or have the appearance of doing so, for all the way that their body is positioned.

Nor does Ten-Nank make any immediate sound, noises at the question that could be directed their way. But having enough awareness to eventually ask:

"Was that a question directed at myself or yourself. Thinking aloud. You are doing that, my programs tell me. Possibly. Are you unable to read. There is a function to have the text, writing, words, be spoken."

His fingers and the glass held in hand make a see saw motion as he hums before replying.

"A question for you, while I muse to myself. Most my thinking is quiet, surprisingly."

A further pause.

"The SCA can read its written messages out loud?"

"The file I gave you can. The capabilities of the SCA you have, I don't know. There are symbols - I will show you if you cannot assess them yourself."

But if Wei Wuxian looks, there are symbols, small icons, present on the testimony page that's popped out from the SCA. In the corners of the 'page', parts that have filled out as he speaks. ...how much, depending on what's caught.

"But, your question." Since Ten-Nank is still speaking. "What comes next: After age, species. Further elaboration: what you consider yourself. If you consider yourself living human, dead human, spirit, ghost, demon, uncultivated animal, cultivated animal or so on. By your standards, your definition of what you are by what your world would consider you. Your place of existence. Wherever you're from."

He peers at that displayed form, eyes ghosting past the icons at first. When he does eventually catch on, he interrupts his own answer with an exclamation.

"With that in mind, let me say... Living human, cultivator subset, theoretically summoned from elsewhere--ah! There, these must be what you mean!"

He taps on an icon, ending up on the "next" page.

"No world name, when we talk about where I'm from, and I don't know where in particular I was born. Do region names work? I'm presuming the ministry can provide me with their number for my world?"

"A region name, any name, can be provided. Yes. Names, words that you know for your home, your world. If your existence is still with your world, then I can scan you, attach the scan to be assessed with your testimony. So far, your being and one's world, as they would see it, seems to be in the same place. 'Your' in the sense of the passengers of The Voidtrecker Express."

If the clarification helps at all, with how Ten-Nank speaks.

He leaves off tapping at icons like a curious grandpa to consider the clarification, offering a nod. Not perfectly sensible, but sensible in context of the void itself, travel through it.

"Yunmeng, in that case. It's a region, part of a greater five realms on our continent. We call our continent the land of the people, very originally, and the closest to a world name is calling it All Beneath the Heavens."

Not distinctive, really, but thinking on planetary scale when they barely had travel between large areas of continent or archipelagos was simply not part of their lives.

"If we're apparent matches, is it possible for the ministry to assist us with contacting those on our home worlds who worry for the Trainlings suddenly and unannouncedly tethered to the Voidtrecker Express?"

"That is fine, suitable, for a world name," they offer, to aid. "Planets are named usually by those that live on it, or those that see it from afar. What you call it, it is likely a name in the database. All depends, I can only speculate from what I know."

And what they know isn't always true - this, they realise. Acknowledge and understand. A universe is called a universe because someone put a name to it. Does a planet always care to follow the standards of those that live on it?

Sometimes.

"Communication will depend. That, I can give no certain answer for. There are regulations, certain rules. There is also locating these individuals you wish to contact. Perhaps, if we can analyse your tether, we can focus in on where your being is on the world. Maybe, I don't know - I'm not a void technician. But, there are many of you - that is a lot of requests. The void is vast. The Ministry will have to prioritise what it does, when. Your wellbeing comes first before communications."

He had to ask, for all the reply doesn't leave him surprised. There's a numbers game involved, and they're the dangerously unknown tethered, not their worlds.

"The Express stopped for a few arbitrary days on a world with ridiculously tall mushrooms and a river of Void-like chaos that flowed up into the sky. People could send messages via stone, a feeling sort of thing." Operating in faith, and he smiles, because he and his brother had given each other massive headaches at the time. "No chance of anything somewhat like that, ah?"

Not something he expects either, and his smile turns wry, expression tired.

"What's next for this report?"

"Clarify, what you mean. 'No chance of anything somewhat like that'. Send messages via stone, through a feeling sort of thing? I don't know what you're asking, or for what you mean next for the report. Was that to me? Or to yourself."

"Ah, apologies -- sending messages with the hope they'll reach our people, but no guarantee it will or won't."

He smiles, lifting his shoulders.

"Having that hope."

"Hope."

They repeat the word, without any chance to voice, to tone.

"We don't have...stones that can be sent into rivers of Void-like chaos. I can only say - promise, if you would like - that I'll see what options there are. For communication. Or to look into what you're trying to explain to me. I don't usually deal with victims of abduction, so I don't have immediate answers."

"Thank you for the consideration of trying." Another smile, both easier again and also, still, tired. Not unusual, Wei Wuxian rarely sleeps well, and darkness is nothing he's fond of, so the dawn that lingers yet to arrive is a weight he can feel but won't speak on. It will come. For now, there's a conversation, and a person in a position as contact, not as a solution to all things they might want to know, or not know they even don't know.

"In all fairness, having both dealt with victims of abduction and also been something of an abduction victim myself previously, there's no one way to deal with the situation. Listening's important. Honest answers for some asking questions, and ah, what should I say... softened truths for others? To keep people from fully breaking. Ah, I get away from myself, ignore an older cultivator's words."

He makes a dismissive, waving motion with his hand, smile turned wry.

"Now here's something that's more of an interesting puzzle to me, personally, that I wonder if you've heard anything about before. Within the Ministry's records, or stories told by the peoples who travel and know of the Void, are there often worlds so closely mirrored to each other that individuals might find themselves in reflection?" A pause, and he shakes his head, laughing. "Apologies, I've met two other people who're also me, from different circumstances in our lives and different decisions made, and four people who are all my, ah. Soulmate? Yet in all these, only a handful of us share the same memories, and the Voidtrecker Express has previously expressed our system numbers, unknown to us, were all different."

A tilt of his head, not because he expects this to provide answers, or that Ten-Nank will know. Curiosity simply drives him as in so many things. The need to know, to discover, to invent a solution or a new way of looking at something already here.

In other words: how in the systems are there so many imperfect mirrors of Lan Wangji in particular here!

"Do travelers of the Void find themselves meeting versions of themselves?"

"To your last question - yes." It seems that there's where they find the best place to start, and to go backwards from there. "Many existences exist. Unique existences. Parallel existences. Alternate existences. Each of you are from a different place of existence, if closely related, separated by your differences. Existence is large, vast. Sometimes, the differences aren't many. But, it is what it is."

A different existence, closely linked. They watch Wei Wuxian, face turned on them, unmoving.

"Is anyone confirmed to be from the same system? To your knowledge. Anyone on the voidcraft."

Amusing in a way, imagining how many countless reflections might meet each other, how different the ways they might interact, how varied the stories told. Also reassuring, and at this point expected: to know it's simply factual to Ten-Nank allows him to believe in its sincerity from the Voidtrecker Express, such as it is.

To the question asked, however, he shakes his head. "To my knowledge, no one's confirmed to be from the same system. We might think it, sharing enough similarities, but the Voidtrecker Express told one of the Trainlings sometime before I 'arrived' that each person was from their own, distinct system."

"Hm. I will keep note of this. In case individuals ask about others from their own existences. ... reflected existences. Mirrored worlds, as you said."

A beat. "Also, I don't know why individuals are being chosen like this. Picked from different worlds. If you wondered. If not, then you can ignore it."

Just as Wei Wuxian said to also ignore himself and certain things expressed.

Oddly, or perhaps without oddity, the aside in observation and the unknown... leaves him laughing.

"No one seems to, but if I had to hazard a thought, then it means not one of us is having a true conflict over where, when, and how we could be here and not properly at home. One person from a system means no overlap. No complicated timelines, up to and including looping back so we don't miss time back home at all. Which has sounded theoretically possible."

A shrug of his shoulders, the bare lift as he considers the possiblities.

"A consideration for timelines."

They say it, reflecting on Wei Wuxian's theory.

"A shame, then, that a consideration for a planet, place's, wellbeing was not also considered. The deaths of many are suitable if they're temporary, and suit one's goals. But I suppose time is a messier concept to deal with than deaths. 'Missing time' - well, if those systems are capable of having their time reversed without great damage. But what proof do you have of time being looped back being theoretically possible? Or, does theoretically mean only, it's possibly possible. No proof. Individuals like possibilities. I ask more to understand what knowledge the passengers have."

"Little, but some shared memories written down, verified by accounts left from the prior crew. I'm not sure how much of it was said in any of the earlier, ah, what we termed interrogations. I believe they were called interviews?"

A newer term for him, as one didn't interview, per say, thus the concept was inherently more of an interrogation or questioning to his understanding, without malice behind it. One investigated. One collected testimonies, as Ten-Nank was here, and as they'd gotten off track with no particular reason not to meander as the conversation has naturally.

"I can summarise for the sake of why I broached the question of time not flowing in a line in all the same directions. Frankly, it doesn't seem like it's a matter of necessarily traveling back, always, so much as arriving shortly after having left."

He waves a hand, because he's offering something else other than his own musings.

"The members of the prior crew who survived came to an agreement on a course of action that involved modifying the Voidtrecker Express. Their engineer seemed responsible for that, and what that means I don't pretend to know, even if I'm extremely curious." A smile, and a man who would have been an engineer in any modern context as well as an artist in all contexts allows that curiosity to shine bright in his eyes, and sighs. "They did whatever it was, then activated... something. The Voidtrecker Express doesn't believe they went missing right at that time, or right after, but sometime following whatever occurred at that point, they did go missing. I... hm. I'm not sure, but I believe they were part of whatever activated our own summonings, the tethers to the Voidtrecker itself. The train claims not to be part of the summoning or the ending of a summons. Potentially to its own frustration."

Ten-Nank is quiet for a moment longer than usual when giving pause between conversing. Nothing changing about their posture, their experience; just a silence that seems louder about them whenever they don't speak.

"I will make note of this, keep a record to pass onto those who can do more with it. Much can be done about time, and movement, in and outside of it - what matters is intent, how skilled you are. What do you care about happening, what don't you - this imaginary you unrelated to you - care about. I read more of the reports where it goes wrong than right. But, they do exist. My experience means nothing. Truly, I know little. I can't guess. I'm a poor guesser."

A fact they don't mind admitting to, no frustration or annoyance in its acknowledgement.

"Existence is capable of much."

"One of it's delights and frustrations," he says, voice softened. "Existence is capable of much."

More than imagined, and less than the sum of the imaginings that could have been.

Either way, he lifts his hands, pressing his palms together and offering a smile out the window, such as it is.

"Is there anything those of us from the Voidtrecker Express can do to assist you, beyond these, ah, forms?" A gesture to the one he's been sidetracked from, all things considered.

"Cooperation," they answer, easily - lazily-toned - enough. "Whatever that means to you. Trust - I won't use this word. Trust in many cultures is complexed, bothersome. But knowing what you, the passengers, know, knowing what you don't; being able to work with the passengers, the craft. Helping, assisting. Our overall goal is to bring the involuntary tethering to an end, to locate individuals wherever's better or best for them to be, to investigate the cause of these disappearing worlds and systems."

A sigh breaks in. "And it's less work if we can work together. Or less messy. You can tell us any needs you have - any supplies, items, medicines, for example, that you may be lacking. Information, we can try to pass on. And,"

Here they stress the word.

"Please tell us if there's any worlds or galaxies or universes in danger because one of you aren't where you should be. We can look into it. Send out calls. See and decide what can be done."

The Waking of Neran

starts waving ghost repellents around. begone.

promptly expires twice

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