middleofsomewhere | No Place Like Home: The Return

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No Place Like Home: The Return

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Zetta made many comments that had no real force behind them, muttering stuff about 'dignity of an Overlord' and 'tremble before me' and so forth. Eventually his pride reflex wore off, and the demon turned his head slightly to look in the man's vague direction.

"How the hell do YOU have any energy?"

Boy, is that a lot of grumbling for someone flat on their face in public. Wash lets him talk himself out, mentally going over his to-do list, until the so-called Overlord looks at him and asks an actual question. He doesn't get a real answer (because "Anchoring would've made me have a mental breakdown, so I didn't do it" isn't something he's about to share); instead, he gets a casual shrug. "Someone has to take care of everyone who anchored. Now are you gonna answer my question or do you just wanna bitch some more?"

Zetta's utter weariness showed in having to actually think about the question.

"Uh, would you be willing to become my vassal for like five minutes here?"

Bone-deep weariness, no matter how well-earned, still had one hell of an enemy in an Overlord's pride.

The answer to "does Wash want to make a contract with bitchy goth satan" is a resounding fuck no, though he doesn't necessarily have to phrase it like that. "No," he says in that same casual tone, "but I will move your ass off the path. If you have the patience for it, I might even get you to a bed."

"...Look, this would be a lot easier on both of us if you'd just agree." Zetta groaned, rolling agonizingly over onto his back just to sprawl out again. "As an Overlord, accepting help would be a sign of weakness I refuse to tolerate. Commanding the service of a vassal is okay though."

Ah, egotistical bullshit, because things can never be simple. "Yeah, my last roommate was a literal demon from hell, so I'm not about to make a contract with anyone who uses the word 'vassal' unironically." It's a massive misrepresentation of Michael; then again, Michael isn't exactly here. (He'd probably have some very off-kilter opinions on the entire situation if he were.)

But none of that solves the demonic road block problem, and Wash takes a few seconds to turn his options over in his head before approaching it from a different angle. "I could drag you off against your will and leave you someplace a little more comfortable. You could bitch about how some weirdo took advantage of your 'weakened state' for his convenience, and we could start a bullshit vendetta that doesn't go anywhere but also doesn't bruise your ego. How about that." It's Red Team tactics, though spelled out a little more explicitly than he'd normally need to. You didn't explain the vendetta to Sarge; you just leaned into it knowing he'd do the same and used it to get him to do what you wanted (usually either 'put down the gun' or 'holy shit, it's two in the morning, leave me alone').

"I said for like five minutes, for Magog's sake!"

Hmm. The whole alternate idea actually had some pretty good logic behind it, except for the whole 'weakened state'. "How about.... I just take a nap right here, and we run with a version of that?"

"Right, and how long until that turns into 'I have altered the deal; pray I do not alter it further'? No thanks."

He does his level best not to roll his eyes at the adjustment to the proposal. This guy really does have an easily bruised ego. "Sure. Enjoy your nap." A beat. "Also, what's your name? So I know who I'm 'feuding' with."

"I, the almighty Overlord Zetta, don't dick around vassals. That's basically the first way to guarantee a coup gets launched your way. Not that I'd lose in that coup, but then I'd need new vassals. It's entirely self-defeating and poor Overlording, and I won't ever be accused of the latter!"

Zetta had managed to sit up enough to deliver that rant. Now he whumped back down with a groan. Ow.

"So your HR policy is based on pride." A beat. "Weird flex, but okay." That's definitely not a yes - Wash has known this guy for a very bizarre ten seconds and that's nowhere enough to pledge servitude - but it's a conversation. "Anyway." He adjusts and scoops Zetta up into a princess carry. "If you want to sell the nap story, you should probably act unconscious."

Ngh. Okay, this was a mistake. Nothing about this was good, decent, or slightly dignified. Zetta bestirred himself to rip himself free and start kicking ass in revenge, only to find that his muscles had apparently all gone on strike and refused to follow his decree. At most he managed to muster a twitch or two.

"Nice job acting unconscious. You're really selling it." He doesn't miss those twitches. It's a bare bones plan, but if Zetta's not even trying to go along with it, then he sees no reason to rein in the sass. Still, he carries Zetta over to one of the garden car's many benches and lays him out on it, making sure not to leave his head hanging over the edge or clonk him too hard on the stone. Wash can be an ass, sure, but he is actually trying to help. "Your ass is officially out of the road. Congratulations."

"I feel like I'm a damn book again," Zetta muttered, which was probably some sort of thanks? It wasn't insults and rage, anyway, so you know -- reading the room, he probably appreciated it.

But interrupting his muttering came a much higher voice.

"Dood! He's manhandling the Overlord!"

From the door, one Prinny pointed in horror at the scene, while two others clutched their heads in abject shock. All three of them had jaws dropped wide.

They quickly fell into a huddle, the muttered conversation of which occasionally resolved into a word such as, "help" or "save" or "dood". They came to a decision swiftly, however, and immediately separated slightly, each of them bringing their right flipper behind their back.

"One, two, three!" they chorused, then each of them flung their fin forward.

"Shoot," said one, "we all threw paper again, dood."

Oh, this is absolutely dealing with Sarge. It's not hard to read between those lines, and he doesn't comment on the actual meaning, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, is that a metaphor or were you actually a book?" It could honestly be either.

The loud exclamation definitely gets his attention, and he turns to see...penguins. With peg legs. Making plans, and...failing at rock paper scissors. (Whether it's because they're bad at rock paper scissors or because they haven't noticed having flippers means they automatically throw paper is honestly a coin toss, as far as he can tell.) "Sooooo. Are the, uh...penguins yours?"

(It's 100% the latter. As evidenced by the next two rounds, which end in them all throwing paper as well. Technically they could also throw rock, but none of them could throw scissors, meaning rock always lost.)

Zetta let out a low sigh. "Yes, I was a book, and yes, the Prinnies are among my cadre of loyal minions. Unfortunately, they have a little bit more self-will than the others."

Having apparently failed to resolve their dispute with more conventional means, the Prinnies broke out the Hungry Hungry Hippos, settling around the board as they dropped the balls into the center.

(Part of Wash wonders idly where they'd been keeping that game. The other part of him knows better than to question shit like this. Instead, he just watches the very noisy game go down. Looks like green is winning.)

"Congratulations on not being a book anymore?" Hallmark doesn't exactly make cards for this particular sentiment; he's doing his best. "And how many brain cells are they sharing between the three of them?" He's guessing the answer is 'one, when they decide to use it,' but he'll wait for clarification.

"It averages out to zero," Zetta grumbled. Like quantum foam, occasionally brain cells emerged to function, and occasionally anti-brain cells did too. "But they do chores, so they're worth keeping around. Overlords can't personally do laundry!"

"And you trust someone with zero brain cells to do your laundry?" That's the first hint of actual judgment from Wash in this conversation. He's seen Zero Bran Cell Laundry. It ends with the washing machine on fire.

"Beats doing the chores myself," Zetta said, cheerfully. No matter the difference in power, intelligence, and ability -- it's still always, always easier to make someone else do it.

"Ooookay." Still some shades of judgment in his tone, but he's also backing away from this argument. If Zetta wants Zero Braincell Laundry, that's his prerogative. Instead, he turns his attentions back to the game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. He's not sure if this is curiosity or just trainwreck syndrome on his part, but it definitely has his attention.

At the time it started, Zetta had been a book. No chore disaster ever had repercussions for him! And the Prinnies were good at dumb labor, emphasis on the adjective there.

"Victory!" said one, hopping to its pegs as it flung its fins in the air. The others looked briefly disappointed, then turned back to the winner expectantly. A pause, pregnant with tension, filled the air.

"Uh, what were we playing for again, doods?"

Wash just watches as the game comes to an end, applauding at the victory celebration. "Bragging rights," he says loudly in response to the question. There's always a chance that reminding them of his presence will also remind them what they were doing, but given the display he's seen so far, he's willing to take that chance.

Edited (Thought of something better) 2022-03-20 05:10 (UTC)

The three Prinnies exchanged looks, then shrugged simultaneously. Apparently that worked.

"Okay, you're up next!" said the winning Prinny, pointing to Wash.

"Really? I thought you were playing for best two out of three." There's an element of yes and here, and he can't help himself.

"Right, dood!" said the Prinny. "I'm the best out of us three, and when we play we'll have the best out of us two, so best two out of three!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No Place Like Home: The Return

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