No Place Like Home: The Return

[voidtreckermods]

---

NO PLACE LIKE HOME: THE RETURN

---

a silence broken...

It's been a very difficult few days. Rocking and rolling into the void and out again. Watching their friends out of the window as they wander from world to world. Meanwhile those lost on worlds continue to wander unable to return to the train at all.

"All attempts at returning those who left have failed. This voidcraft cannot do it alone. It is lucky that unlike those that have left before them, I can still sense them.

But I cannot bring them back alone. This is perhaps too advanced for Voidtreckers, but you have done the improbable before. You say you wish to help. This is how you help."

Their SCA's light up with a message. Or rather, a series of instructions:

In the unlikely event a tether gets stranded on a liminal space platform or between their own world and the platform space, you should, in the first instance, contact the Void technicians who monitor their non-travelling self. However, in the case they cannot be reached or there is a mass displacement of tether, an anchoring procedure can be carried out.

Ideally, this will involve two fully tethered individuals to retrieve the lost tether. One should be a stationary anchor. They should be outside of their void craft, if possible, and in physical contact with it. The second should be a roaming anchor reaching to draw the tethers back. In situations of mass tether displacement the stationary anchor can hold mutiple roaming anchors but it is recommended to not exceed five. In this situation, it is recommended that anchors rotate between stationary and roaming.

To start an anchoring of this kind, those anchoring should activate their anchoring program. Those staying station should reach out to the tethers of those they plan to steady. This might cause some emotional upheaval, and they will need to stay steady, especially if connecting to more than one roaming tether. Roaming anchors then must hold the person they search for in their thoughts and move towards them. It is recommended that the lost tethers activate their emergency beacon to facilitate being found and returning but this is not a necessity.

Once the roaming anchor has found the lost tethers they must keep hold of them and guide them back towards their craft, the stationary tethers must draw them back, pulling them through.

There is an additional note at the end, in different font.

It is as Anan told you. Your minds should visualise it. Be strong Voidtreckers.

... a short-lived dream

The doors open and anyone who wishes to try this can leave onto the platform. It is empty, devoid of the figures they had seen before; and, beyond the fog, devoid of anything. But searching requires their SCAs, not a path, and as people get into teams, they can activate their anchors and begin.

For those who will roam, their minds become filled, visualising light, void, voices and chaos; their bodies feel less stable, like they might unravel if not careful. But for those who will stay, when they touch the Voidtrecker Express, they will feel more stable, grounded. The fog shifts, but the world moves around them without pulling them in.

Thinking of the person they wish to keep stable, a mental and emotional link will be established, and they will feel each other as the roaming anchor sets off to find their missing crew.

---

Outside the train...
For those that had left - either by choice or by strange happenings - they have found themselves back at their anchor point during Poi 26, regardless of where they were before. For those unfortunate enough not to have a world to return to, or those who were stuck between in the first place, they will find themselves alone, in a fog filled space where no matter how far they walk, nothing greets them.

All those in fog or back in their world receive the same message from their SCAs.

Hold fast. Press your evacuation button. Your friends come.

---

RETURNERS: FLEETING HAPPINESS

But it's likely before the message arrived, that something wrong has been noticed by those outside the void. More than the bizarre ability to travel between existences, an inability to move far from where they appear. Back at their anchor points, they may notice - in time - colours sometimes flash across the sky, streaking through clouds or making trails in a night sky. At first not much, something to be easily dismissed but it builds. People talk, wonder at what is happening.

For the colours aren't the only thing. Across worlds, in cities, kingdoms, villages, underworlds and space stations, people are dreaming. Bright colours, vivid dreams. Prophets spring from nowhere, people claim to know the future or to have seen the past. Some talk of places and worlds they could not have seen.

Perhaps at first it can be explained away, there are always such people. But more people talk, from urchin children to commanders, people dream and the colours dance.

ANCHORERS: A STEADY HAND

While the stationeries will feel grounded, they aren't blind to what's happening to their roamer. It's as if they're both linked, intimately, meshing together, and they will need to work to keep their feelings separate; hearing each other's thoughts, their feelings. Images of what the other thinks and memories shared between them.

And then there is the search for their teammates, amongst the multiple of realities. Existences move past the roamer, threatening to lose them in the mess, but they must persevere, keep their thoughts on the individual, their stationary anchor to help them. Until finally, they appear - in a world they perhaps know, don't, the kaleidoscope colours of the void faint above their heads.

Speak to each other, keep each other focused, certain, and find who you came to save.

BOTH: HOLDING ON

Searching for individuals, the anchorers will find themselves at a character's anchor point; if they haven't moved far from here or another world, it will be easy to locate them. Now is the time to convince them to come back, and then the eventual work of doing so.

It can be in agreement, or force. Taking a hold of the person, the anchorer can pull them into the mass of chaos. Just like when they helped the guests return to their worlds from the false Diagad, all parties become battered by images, voices. Voices like sirens; 'Just stay,' the voices encourage. 'Just let go and drift into the chaos. It will be easier.'

But they must be strong, move towards their anchor and towards the craft. The crossing doesn't take too long, perhaps ten minutes each way, and once they get to the craft the person they are rescuing glows gold and vanishes. The anchors will know instinctively that they are safe on the train.

And indeed, the rescued will find themselves within the luggage carriage - exhausted, but safe.

TRAIN: AN INEVITABLE RETURN

Exhaustion is something all parties will experience, once everyone is returned to the train and the adrenaline wears off. Those who anchored will be hit with a total exhaustion, leaving them unable to do much more than eat and sleep for a few days. Those rescued won't be as bad, but if they decide to join in with the efforts, they'll too face the soul-tiring experience that other anchorers are.

There's likely to be efforts, to help soothe people over this time. And as people return to their life on the train, they will see the marks of the last few days for those who stayed behind. Broken ceramics, books out of order in the library; the ICPs in the standard coach, storage, sports and games carriages broken, and some damage to furniture.

But for the scars brought on by this event, surely, they will heal - eventually.

OOC NOTES

OOC post. Ask questions here. New second part OOC post here.

First phase of the event took place during Poi 22 to 25; the second phase takes place during Poi 26 to 28 (20-25th February).

VISITING WORLDS: While during Poi 26, it will be possible to go back to wherever they were, or other spaces. However, they will have increasing difficulty doing this, and will feel themselves getting more lost if they try world hopping too much over the next 3 (void) days. It's like something is trying to pull them back, or pull them, but into nowhere.

SCAs: The SCA's comms will not be active at this time.

Comments

[crowneddragon]

I. Roaming for his missing hoard
[ooc: potential threadhopping, and anyone getting saved by Esteban is getting tackle-hugged. No exceptions.]

Roaming comes easier to him than anchoring.

He's a creature of movement, a light, a small fire, reaching out to warm the people that he cares for, that he misses. And there were a lot who stayed behind-- small mercies-- but there's also a few that went on, that vanished, that were missing from his hoard, and Esteban is not-- cannot leave them behind now that he has a chance to get them back. Every person he's met on the train matters to him, no matter how short their interaction, and the half-elf is not about to leave them behind.

Come back. Come back with him.

There's a heedless search when he enters the void, fogs and worlds he barely glances at, only the reach, the stretch of his awareness, searching for someone he knows in a sea of nothings and a wave of unfamiliar colours. He's bright, like a flame, like a blur, rushing forwards with only one thing on his mind; reaching them, and holding them close, and saving them-- saving them from the void that might devour them.

No one gets left behind.


II. An exhausted break

Even Esteban has to stop at some point.

His energy has run dry, he's weary with the constant tug-o'-war taking over whenever he places himself as an anchor, or as a roamer, and the loudness of other people in his head has stretched him that much thinner. He's been tied to something or someone or many of them all within the last few days and his thoughts have been running wild with the constant strain, the touch of others inside the cacophony of his brain.

He's happy-- really, he is!-- that people are coming back; relieved and gathering them close, hugging every single person that seems like they would endure it in his greetings. He'd been so scared. Restless over too many threats, too many wounds. Echoes of people he hadn't wanted to leave behind. Some old. Some new.

And it's a small thing, a tiny victory, that they were allowed to help at all but he is tired, and with all the voices on the platforms, and the people roaming the hallways-- all of them in states more or less relatable at this point-- Esteban has run to the stone garden, one of his favourite haunts since the weather system came in.

He's letting it rain right now-- a soft drizzle that pours in a gentle staccato over the mosaics and the marble creatures, limbs sprawled carelessly as he allows the water to soak through his clothes. He can't get sick anyways-- and yes, he's likely to get scolded again, but he doesn't expect anyone to come out and stick around. He's only seen a handful of them since he entered, and the rain is slow enough that someone passing through wouldn't get more than a little wet.

It allows him to doze, eyes shut and breath slow as he simply listens to the pluck of raindrops, sketches of memories weaving a familiar comfort in his bones. Half-hidden behind a stone lion, Esteban uses the silence and the quiet to re-weave his thoughts into something more stable, into something quiet and gentle after all of this nightmare.


III. Worn-out faces (Poi 28)
[ooc: closed to Tidus and / or Kaiba]

There's people lost in the void.

They're almost done, reaching the last of their searches for the few that remained, the rare person that would not come back on their first attempts. All of them are exhausted, stretched thin after ventures into the foggy deserts ahead, endless stretches of nowhere to sweep through, to find the last stragglers. But Esteban can't come back in yet, won't come back in yet.

He's staring, daring to look into the fog that has them surrounded as he considers his options, the last few days fading from his mind as he wonders, wonders, wonders.

He has to try.

There's people stuck in the fog, people he hasn't met before, people he has no hoard to tie them to, or item to recognize them by, but he knows they're there, and Esteban-- Esteban cares way too damn much. He has to try, even though he doesn't know how he could search for them, has to try even through the risk that he himself might get lost. He has to try and reach out for the hands that might reach back.

But-- but. He can't ask just anyone. They won't understand.

Esteban can't even put it into words, what he's trying to do; plunging into the void, not to search for a lost treasure, but to dive as deep as he can, to reach out to the emptiness below and hope, hope something might reach back. There's only two more people he can actually believe would understand his goal, but he hesitates, unsure if he should ask.


IV. Wildcard
Come get free hugs; Esteban will offer cuddles to anyone who asks at this point.

i - rescue

[monkeyinthewrench]

Jake is increasingly distressed as the situation degrades. The void is penetrating the sky, he's hearing weird echoes...and though Amy finally believes him, that means she's now worried.

He's told her that this means he might have to go back, and he's let the squad know too. As much as he wants to rejoin the squad...he suspects he can't.

And then his SCA chimes, and his stomach drops. It's happening, isn't it. He's out on the street on his own when it happens, and that's the scene Esteban will encounter. Busy sidewalks, honking cars. And Jake, holding a foil-wrapped sandwich, eyes wide.

"...Esteban?"

[crowneddragon]

The half-elf is running.

A blot of bright colours in the drab city streets, he stands out like a sore thumb across the grey asphalt, the skyscrapers with their rocky facades, the tired faces of people not really seeing where they're going. He's beaming as soon as he spots Jake, grin bright as sunshine and--

And rushes right in the middle of oncoming traffic.

There's cars honking, and the sharp screech of tires as he runs, and he's probably violating a good dozen laws in his reckless dive for his friend, miraculously managing to dart across the city street without getting hit. And trips onto the sidewalk elevation, half-stumbling across to reach out for the other guy.

"G-- Gotcha!" The sunny voice is bouncing in his ear as the half-elf grabs him into an awkward hug, half-across him and catching himself from his toes still skidding on the pavement. He straightens when he's steadier, still panting from the run up, but beaming as he holds onto Jake's shoulder.

"Nice t' find you again!" He's so bright and bubbly, buoyed by the people they've managed to save. They've finally managed to reach.

It... had been a tense few days on the train.

"Haven't seen you in a while! You okay?" Automatically, Esteban checks the other for any outwards wound or anything wrong, even though his only way to help would be... to drag him back to the train and hope to get to the healers quickly enough-- it's almost a waste of time, but it's for Esteban's own peace of mind.

[monkeyinthewrench]

Whoa...okay, it is him! Running straight into traffic! Jake yells out, tries waving from the curb for people to stop...but his crewmate somehow zips across the street unharmed like Frogger and leaps on him, nearly throwing him off balance. Jake staggers back, reaching up to hold him upright.

"I'm fine. You just almost gave me a heart attack, man," Jake chides gently. "So, uh...did the train send you after me?"

[crowneddragon]

There's a bit of a snicker as Esteban turns back to stare at the street he'd just crossed, a hand rubbing at the back of his head as he looks at the people in their strange boxes cursing up a storm.

Oops. They moved a lot faster than he had thought they could-- and Esteban trained horses on occasion when his fire spinning skills weren't enough. He pauses in his panting long enough to shout a "Sorry!" over the crowd, and though they seem grumpy, it's almost as if-- he doesn't matter in the next ten seconds. What an odd place.

But yes! Here he is! He found Jake, and when his companion starts speaking, Esteban turns his attention back to him again, gathering the last of his rushed breath into steadier patterns.

Hmm. Loaded question.

But close enough to the truth. Esteban's grin dims a bit as he watches his companion, truly not wanting to rip him away from his own world-- there's a lot he wishes he could see, and even the brief, brief glimpses he gets of it make him curious enough to have infinite questions. But now is... not the time to linger. Not the time to stay. His head shifts to the side, as he watches Jake, truly worried for him even if he's glad to find him again.

"Yeah. You okay?" Well. Loaded question back, he supposes. "We can't... leave you here. The tethers're still there, an' the train--" Well... They are all tied to it. For better or worse.

[monkeyinthewrench]

Jake pauses to take a breath. No, he's not happy about that news, but with the beeping on his SCA and the growing disturbances in the sky he'd accepted it.

"...it's fine. I'll go. Someone has to keep this world safe, and it might as well be me."

He shifts his bag on his shoulder. "So...we're going now, then?"

[crowneddragon]

Esteban is sorry that there's no easy goodbyes to this, that Jake has to steel himself for what comes next. He doesn't quite know how to convey his empathy other than squeezing the other's shoulder, trying to give him a bit of a grin, even as apologetic as he is.

"Then your world's in good hands, yeah?" It feels like it's falling too short, even as he tries. He never finds the right words to say, and the days behind him have made him that much more inept at it-- too stressed and worried and tired to manage much more than a weak pat and a smile. So Esteban gives up words, and goes for a hug instead, a quick squeeze to offer the best comfort he can.

"You'll get back here. We're all gonna get back t' our worlds at some point." If he's caught onto anything lately, it's that there is progress; the train had tried to send them home after all, and though it ended up in failure, wasn't it proof enough that it wanted their wellbeing? That it wanted, if it could, to send them home?

They'd just have to hold on, just a bit longer.

II

[unrecovered]

It's raining in the garden car.

He shouldn't be surprised - he'd heard there was a weather system in here, seen the controls on the walls - but he is, and something in him lurches a bit. He's been homesick before, missed friends and family and places he was fairly certain he'd never see again, but it's still been decades since he's missed Seattle-

And yet here he is. Missing his hometown. Because it's raining in the garden car.

And there's someone out here sitting in it.

Wash watches for a few moments, then leaves, coming back a few minutes later with a blanket in hand. He approaches the person sitting behind the lion and drapes the blanket over him. It'll get soaked eventually, but until then it should offer some protection from the drizzle. Wash recognizes him - he hadn't left with the others, which means he's probably been anchoring. Wash will get him out of the rain eventually; for now, he deserves some rest.

[crowneddragon]

There's a bit of stirring when he gets close the second time, blue eyes glancing lightly at his companion as the blanket gets draped across his form. He's quiet, for once, for once, even though he sends a soft smile to the stranger. Too many people on this train are too damn kind-- their care constantly surprise him.

"Thanks." It's a murmur more than a spoken word, half-covered by the dripping of rain down onto the grey stones. He straightens enough to be half-sitting instead, deep breaths seeping through his lungs. The scent is just a little too strong for him, of stones and water, but he enjoys it anyways, taking comfort in things that soothe him.

"Y' can sit with me, 'f you want." He'd never turn anyone away after all, "but 'm not much of a conversationalist right now."

Even the cadence of his words is slow; like he has all the time in the world. And maybe, right this moment, it's true-- just for, just for a rest. Or an hour. Just until he gathers himself up again. The rest will come later.

[unrecovered]

"I thought you were asleep." So much for that. Still, Wash accepts the invitation and takes a seat around the other side of the lion, resting his back against the stone and just breathing for a minute. The rain is nice. It's not the real thing, but it's close enough that he can close his eyes and forget for a minute or two.

(Being able to forget anything is a blessing nowadays. He'll take it.)

It's a bit before he speaks up. "When that blanket soaks through, I'm taking you out of here to dry off and get some actual sleep."

[crowneddragon]

There's a pause on the other side of the lion; maybe his companion fell asleep? But no-- his voice rises over the gentle lullaby of raindrops after a moment, trying to process what he's saying aloud now that he can't just shove his thoughts at someone and have them understand-- the anchoring process is... strange going in, and strange coming out of.

"Thanks. Y' don't have to; but thanks." There's a bit of a break, trying to remember the words that he himself had heard, but Esteban has a lot of trouble finding his tongue at this point, with how sluggish his mind feels after all-- after all of it.

"Worse case, 'f someone falls asleep here, the train gets them back in their bed. I hear they d'sappear in sparks of gold?" A half-remembered warning, in case Esteban himself poofs out from his current company, but he hasn't seen it himself. He imagines it's very similar to the anchoring though; that split second where the returnee approached and vanished out of thin air-- and hadn't that scared him off first, before the innate knowledge that they were safe had registered through his panic.

Come to think of it, he still doesn't know who he's talking to. He knows they're new; knows that any other day, he'd be all over them, talking animatedly but, well... He'll make an exception for now.

[unrecovered]

"I know, but that's not going to stop me. And you're welcome." This guy's probably been working his ass off making sure the rest of his teammates get back to the train safely (something Wash isn't able to do without risking a massive backslide on his part); leaving him to his own devices after all that is a dick move at best.

(Plus, sleeping in the rain? Does he want hypothermia? Because that's how you get hypothermia.)

"You know, I haven't seen it happen, but if I do I'll let you know." He's been yanked back to his own bunk, at least - evidently the train isn't about to let him or anyone else stay up all night, and the train seems to have final say on that one. It hasn't happened in the middle of the day, though - not to him, at least. "Also, what's your name?"

[crowneddragon]

Names. Esteban allows the rain to drip down into his hair again, a fraction of distraction that lingers under his skin. He takes a slow, deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool wet air, allowing it to be a comfort, a grounding source, before he answers with a bit more cheer in his voice, pulling himself together for the sake of his lingering companion.

"I'm Esteban." There's an audible smile in his voice, even if it remains soft, unwilling to disturb the peacefulness of the moment. "What 'bout you?"

He's glad. He's glad the stranger isn't lost, that as new as he had been on the train, he hadn't been expelled or rushed out by accident. Searching for someone, searching for people he didn't know well hadn't-- been his brightest idea. He wants to get to know him, wants to cheer and talk and ask all sorts of questions. But they'll have time for that. They'll have time, later.

He's still getting a little chipper just at the prospect of it, though.

I - Rescues - Patricia Tannis will be following after me. :)

[the_aunt_general]

Oh, she doesn't like any of it. It's a world ending, she's sure of that. And she does her best to shut out the dying sky above her.

And to make sure that Patricia Tannis is holding up, in all of this.

People will come for them, she's certain of that. But the question becomes whether or not they'll get there in time.

Sorry for lateness, had a sick puppy to take care of

[sirentologist]

Patricia Tannis is, in fact, not holding up in all of this. Really, somewhere in her head, she knew better than to expect that this was real, but just seeing Sanctuary again was enough to bring up all sorts of emotions that she had been certain she wouldn't feel again and now everything is going to hell in all the chaos and she is this close to a meltdown and a hundred thousand other things going on at once.

It's too much. So she tries to focus on the one other thing that might actually be real in this whole mess. Her new favorite person, the quiet woman.

"You're awfully calm about all of this."

No worries! Hope the puppy is doing better .__.

[crowneddragon]

[ooc: Should I hold back Esteban a bit for them to talk before he encounters them or should he meet them next post? Also, I tried to describe Sanctuary as Esteban would have seen it, but I have no idea more than a quick search, so, sorry if it's all over the place.]

The land he encounters is-- odd. Very, very odd. There's metal everywhere, such a wealth of it that he's never seen before. The sun glancing off the structures hurt his eyes and drive a wedge of distraction-- his curiosity is ever insatiable-- but he hasn't come here for this. In the thrum of a thousand voices, there are people coming and going and the sky shifts in distracting colours overhead, which he doesn't dare glimpse at.

Amaya. He holds fast onto the memories he has of her, their easy chat always derailing as Esteban poked and prodded and asked questions, enjoying learning what he could about her, about her world, about her values. He hadn't expected her world to look so... different. Somewhere along, he'd thought Amaya was from a world like his-- but. Not important. He has to find her right now.

Her language-- the language he's been keen to learn turns out to he an incredibly strong pull to her. It is so unique, so strange and interesting because it relies so much on movement, on expressions, on watching the person rather than listening. Most people can recognize voices from afar when they loves the person dearly enough.

Now he wonders if Amaya has specific hand gestures, has a way of moving her pinky or her thumb or something that traces an accent in her patterns. (Esteban himself knows that if he flattens his hand too much, his pinky sticks out. He has no idea why, and it has been difficult to try and fix whenever he gestured too excitedly.)

He follows the thread of it, the string in this foreign labyrinth guiding him forth.

[the_aunt_general]

She's calm about it because she has to be. She's a general, after all. She's had to maintain her calm in the face of panic, disaster, and chaos time and time again.

So she just nods, confidently.

It's just a new kind of weirdness, she signed, a gentle smile on her face. There's always another one along, sooner or later, isn't there? Besides, if there's a way out of this, you'll find it.

It's important to impart confidence in these moments, and to give concrete goals.

Just hold on to something you know is real, and you'll be fine.

Instructions unclear

[sirentologist]

Hold on to something you know is real. Well. There's not much of that going around at the moment, and while she pauses for a moment to struggle with the fact that she is Actually considering this, but it might be okay if she's careful about it.

So after a moment she reaches out a hand and grabs hold of Amaya's sleeve. Not quite perfect, but. It will have to do for now.

"I will absolutely not be 'fine,' I have never been 'fine,' and I do not plan on starting now."

Hah. :P We'll do one more pair of tags then Esteban will show up? :)

[the_aunt_general]

She looked down at that, arching an eyebrow and smiling a little. Well, it certainly fit the bill. She moved to give Tannis' shoulder a very light pat.

It wasn't like she could sign in return, with one arm currently occupied.

But a sympathetic look would have to do.

iii

[blitzcheer]

"Esteban?"

There's still a few more people to get, and by now, they're all working on less than fumes - they're just working, trying to get everyone back they've noticed haven't returned yet. Technically, Tidus has had rest and a boost to help with his recovery; technically, he's fine. But tell that to the dissociation he's been suffering from his body, a soul that knows it's worn and exhausted, but the rest of him in disagreement.

But it doesn't matter - not until everyone's returned. Tidus spots Esteban, as if lost in thought. Not moving with his usual giddiness, a bounce in his feet that readies him to get going. There's something on his mind.

Or was it the same exhaustion they were all suffering from that was making him blank out?

Re: iii

[crowneddragon]

There's definitely something on his mind.

The redhead turns to glance at Tidus, but there's no cheerful call of 'Sunshine!', no grin to brighten up his face as he stares, just for a moment, then turn his gaze back to the blank, murky fog that surrounds them. It shifts in curtains, sweeping away only for a blanket of thick dark nothing to swallow up the hole that has been opened up. His eyebrows lower, and he takes a deep, long breath.

"D'you think y' could anchor me?" He's not... sure how else to ask.

There's words and thoughts and feelings and with all the voices sharing space in his head in the recent days, Esteban struggles, struggles so much harder than usual to put them in some semblance of order. Pesky things, delightful things, moments and snatches of time that he can't quite put in order, it's too much of a mess inside his own head at this point. He needs to tell Tidus something, but he can't remember what.

Oh-- not exactly, he knows he's apologetic because he's been callous, but it's not enough to just say "sorry", so he'll have to wait until he can actually see his path between his current words and his end goal. Wait-- he's probably worrying the blond at this point, isn't he? Oh, he really is a mess.

The second glance brings a weak smile to his lips, as Esteban ruffles the short hair at the back of his neck, feeling the encroaching fog curl frozen fingers in the strands. He'd shiver, but that wouldn't bode well.

"Please?" Manners are a good start, he supposes.

[blitzcheer]

Huh? It's odd. Really, the nickname left unsaid doesn't surprise Tidus. It's been an exhaustive time, and none of them are feeling a hundred percent. But there's something about the way Esteban looks, is, that isn't sitting right with Tidus.

Maybe he's overthinking it. Maybe something happened, and he should be asking about it. But when Esteban asks what he does, throws in the please there - he knows there's things being left unsaid, but he also doesn't want to press it. If Esteban's been having difficult, then he's here, just like the other guy's been there for him this entire fiasco.

"Sure -- 'course," he answers. "You ready right now?"

He won't even ask who it is that Esteban wants to find. As long as the guy's ready, then Tidus will move to the train, activate his SCA's anchor, and they can get started.

loooooots of introspection, sorry

[crowneddragon]

No.

There's a chasm in his head, and starlight at the tip of his fingers. He's not ready for this. But it might be his only chance, and Esteban... He needs to try.

He needs to try.

One year, he'd given himself before. He'd cheated and searched for two.

These are strangers. They are people he's never met before. These are people he's never faced, never talked to, never knew, gathering their likes and dislikes, and skills and life like the treasures he believed every being ever was. These are not part of his hoard.

But they are part of the Train's hoard, and maybe, maybe Esteban is just placing his thoughts atop the train's, maybe it's not the same at all. But he can still remember the bone-deep cry, the scream of their voices in his head-- too many, too many of them lost and worn away, a memory that he cannot touch anymore. He can't leave them. He can't leave them.

One try. One try, this time. He can't ask more of Tidus, he can't even be sure it's a good idea for himself to try. When he has time-- when he has the strength and the thoughts to make sense of all the tangles in his head, maybe he'll have a better solution.

But for now, there is a wall, an impasse, and Esteban doesn't know how else to take it down, than to throw himself at it and hope, hope he can break it.

"Yeah!" Deep breath. It doesn't sound as chirpy as he meant it to be, but, well. Everyone's been stretched thin in the last few days, and he knows he's already asking for a lot, just to be anchoring him. More than anything, he hopes Tidus is going to be okay; it's one thing for him to be foolish, but... He doesn't want to endanger his friend.

Steady. He gathers his strength, gathers all of his thoughts into this one attempt. One attempt, this time. He'll find other ways later on, but this time, he'll try it once. He swipes at his SCA, takes another deep breath, and taps at the icon.

The plunge feels all the more disorienting, this darkness that seeps in through the corners of his mind. There's emotions and tangles, and he tries, tries to keep them to himself, walking the edges of his memories, balancing on the mouth of a crater he's had to learn to tiptoe around.

He's not holding onto any item. No hoard, no shard of his soul already in-hand to guide him forth. Esteban stares down at the abyss of the void, looks at the stretches of nothingness in front of him, and his only link is back; trusting Tidus to keep the path that he'll need.

"Just-- keep your thoughts on me, Sunshine," and it might be redundant of their last few days, keeping track of each other, but that is most definitely why he clings to it, clings to the anchoring he and Tidus have done for each other, even before tethering their crewmates. Sets it as a marker, a lighthouse in the darkness, because Esteban is going to dive into their depths, and he needs to remember to come back.

no problem <3

[blitzcheer]

The plunge comes, the void opening up to them and Esteban stepping through it. The surge as their emotions and thoughts bump into each other; Tidus at Esteban's back, both physically and as a friend. Weariness of the past few days clinging to Tidus, but his determination no less tangible, a rope that connects them both, will pull Esteban back onto the right path if he needs it.

Tidus knows from this much that there's someone - someones - that Esteban wants to find, and it's an emotional, and real, need that Tidus can relate to. Use as an anchor to Esteban, as much as that rope. Thoughts on Esteban; the half-elf will feel Tidus present, a companion in his search, though he still stays by the train, waiting on his return.

But he'll help him forward, to keep his head straight. Ready to help him to look for whoever it is he's searching for.

[crowneddragon]

It harder to focus, not knowing who he's searching for. It's not a goal; he has no goal, just this direction-- forwards-- and a warning-- don't get lost.

Forwards. Don't get lost.

He tries not to tangle his mind too deeply with Tidus', fearing that it might just bring him back to the train without any results. But there is nothing else. Nothing but emptiness, shallow and simple, a fog over his senses, and a stretch of nothing in front of his feet. A void that, he thinks, just maybe if he stretched his arm, he would reach the end of it.

Glowing lights. Trails of lights.

'Let me find them,' echoes unsaid, but heard, this resolve to move, to stretch forwards. He'd been walking to this point, gathering himself, but the determination, the fury of his thoughts strikes too deep for him to stay slow. It rattles in his head, and the chasm lingers, trailing behind him like a shadow that could swallow him at the slightest wrong step.

There are hundreds of glances in his head, the fill of too many people who have been here, who were once here. Who are still here, chained to the void in a way that Esteban can only reach for, can only try to break with this reckless attempt. He's never been good at thinking up of a plan, never managed to do anything more than just try and hope for the best; but this is what he has to offer.

This is what he is gifting these people, these strangers with unknown faces; he is going to try to find them. Try as hard as he ever did for--

Rain.

Rain plucks at the edges of his cloak, head upraised, dripping into his eyes, and the shadows pounce, bearing their full weight on him.

Crushing, choking him, the pressure so deep his ribs are creaking, heart hammering behind the fragile, bruising cage of bones as he looks up, up and up at teeth and scales and scorn and eyes as blue as his own, with a voice that rattles in his head and roars into his ears. 'YOU WILL DIE THIS WAY!'

Flashes, too quick to make much sense of; faces and people and lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, people he will never find again, people he cannot afford to find again-- a pine branch with chamomile flowers drying across it-- a red fox with amber eyes painted on a paper fan-- clumsily gathered flowers from childhood crushed and faded after the passing of years-- black-ink scales cold to the touch in an eternal slumber until he forgets that he's dreaming.

The touch of a lover, eyes staring up at him, grey-green-blue, like the stones found at the bottom of rushing streams, smooth to the touch, and as precious as jewels. Hope, so soft and gentle, and cocooned, a flutter of miniature wings soaring in his chest when he sees her. Dawn-soft days filled with simple adventures, wide plains and running through them hand-in-hand. Laughter echoing across the wide blue sky.

Missing her, missing her, missing her so much-- crumpled, and crushed, wings ripped and fragile body broken as he searches and searches and searches. Knowing that time is running out; knowing that each day is one more defeat, one more fissure in the growing hole. She is gone, and he cannot find her, and the void of her absence is growing, and growing and growing.

'You will die this way' and knowing this had been his decision, his rebellion against the world. That despite the pain, he would do it again. That despite the echoes of a gnawing hole where he should be whole, he would give away these pieces of his soul, tie them around the people that he cares for, cradle them close into his memories until they become a part of him because he will miss them when he loses them.