middleofsomewhere | No Place Like Home: The Return

Entry tags:

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

The next several days pass for Devero in a haze. He stumbles from the scene of Koumyou's death, clinging to Buttercup like the girl's an anchor until the vagaries of their malfunctioning fucking tethers separate them. He's alone then, and no matter how many times he tries to evacuate back to the platform he finds himself drawn home.

Home. What bullshit. Techstead doesn't feel like home anymore-- not swarming with guards as it is, not with Valdana "missing", not with Koumyou lying broken and bled out in the mud on a lonely riverbank in Shangri-La.

Eventually, Devero gives up on trying to get back to the platform or anywhere, when he just gets spit back out in Techstead. Numb, he stumbles into the thick, tangled forest surrounding the town; wounded, he manages to pitch the tent stashed in their ARMS band; lost, he curls up inside around a haphazard bundle of indestructible paper tendrils and a pair of rings and a gaudy gold bracelet and he--

He--

That's where he is, some elastic passage of time later, when he realizes there's a message on his SCA. Hold fast. Press your evacuation button. Your friends come.

He wants nothing more than to return to the train, but he's-- he's afraid. He's afraid to press that button, and to return, and then to find out that his Sanzo's malfunctioning tether had snapped when the Muten sutra, the very essence of nothingness, had run him through.

Techstead is no longer his home, and if Koumyou Sanzo's not there, neither will be the Voidtrecker Express.

But eventually, inexorably, his fingers find that button on his SCA and press it. They are pulled by the weight of if, by the possibility that maybe-- that the tether-- that he--

He presses it, and holds on to 'if' as tightly as he holds the Seiten sutra and their rings and Koumyou's ARMS band.

Edited 2022-04-17 03:50 (UTC)

It's another indeterminable amount of time before anything happens at all, although it's certainly no longer than several hours.

First, the big, unwieldy bundle of the Seiten sutra starts to shift around, slowly and subtly at first and then like a ball of writhing snakes as it slowly, gradually, painstakingly, resolves itself from an incalculable number of tendrils down to a calculable hundred or so. From there, down to ninety. Then down to eighty, then down to...

Eventually, there is only one long tendril. And then it carefully starts to roll itself up into that standard scroll.

This is not how it usually happens. When Koumyou does it casually on a daily basis, and even at least one time right there in Devero's hands, the shift into scroll form takes less than a second. Less than that; even a slow motion camera from this technologically advanced world, slowed down, would find that it's entirely instantaneous.

Not this time. Slowly, and then a little faster, but never super fast (almost like someone is concerned about hands being too near to fast-moving indestructible paper edges), it rolls itself back up into that compact, familiar shape, complete with wrapping a tie around itself and knotting it into the typical form.

And then... it just lays there. Maybe they just do that, after a while? Slow like that, for some reason?

When he feels the first stirrings of the parchment against his belly, Devero-- well, misses it, actually, too subsumed by his misery. But he can't ignore it forever, and he jerks upright on the bare floor of the tent when he realizes that it's moving.

He pushes the massive bundle of paper off his lap and scoots back until the wall of the tent bows around him. There he stops, and stares, and watches as Koumyou's holy burden slowly, slowly resolves itself from an impossible mass of tendrils to a tidy scroll. He stares for a bit after it's done, as well, hardly breathing, waiting to see if anything happens.

Something does indeed happen. About five minutes after it's situated itself back into a tidy, tied scroll, the sutra uncoils a few feet of itself and starts to...

Snake itself out of a gap in the tent door. A few minutes later, right as the last of the scroll slips out through the door, a shadow resolves itself across the side of the tent, where some sunlight had been coming through the trees.

It's vaguely person-shaped.

"Dev-chan?"

By the time five minutes has elapsed, Devero has gathered the scroll up again and is sitting with it in his lap, fingers tracing over the paper and the cord. When it starts to move again he lifts his hands, letting it do as it will, but doesn't retreat from it this time. No, he just watches, with his heart in his throat, as it starts to leave him--

Like Koumyou left him--

"No!" he says hoarsely, lunging forward to try and grab the end of it before it slips out the door. "Wait!" He scrambles on hands and knees towards the tent's flap, breath catching and eyes burning.

Then a voice speaks, and he freezes. Only his head turns, slow and uncertain in that direction. He takes in the new shadow on the wall of the tent, and feels his heart start to beat in his throat again, so big and strong he can't force a word past it in response.

The shadow moves, too, coming around to the flap and crouching down. A slender hand takes the flap itself and moves it, revealing...

Koumyou Sanzo, his sutra settling across his shoulders like a sigh.

"Devero, I'm so sorry. I'm here, but we need to go now."

He holds his free hand out.

"I can't think about it until we're both safe. But I'm here. It's okay."

His lips shape the syllables of Koumyou's name, but he still can't utter them past the blockage seizing his throat. Hope, fear, denial, disbelief-- emotions rise in a jumbled tangle so alive that he kind of feels like he needs to vomit to get them out.

He stares at that hand for a moment, before his eyes follow it slowly, wrist to arm to shoulder, past the sutra drifting into place to the face, to that sharp, lined, familiar, beloved face.

His eyes blur as the stinging promise of tears fulfills itself. He reaches up and touches Koumyou's hand with an uncertain brush of his own fingers, just the lightest touch to gauge if it's really actually there.

It is, if course, actually there. Koumyou's face twists for a moment, too, but he swallows the reaction.

(Better that than his blood--)

"I know," he says, a little hoarsely, "but I'm anchoring to drag you back. We have to keep it together for just a little bit."

His fingers report back dutifully on rough skin and fabric across the palm and he's there, he's really there--! Devero manages a gasping inhale of breath and draws his hand back and gathers himself and that's when Koumyou's words penetrate: Anchoring. Drag you back.

Keep it together.

"Copy that," he rasps, rocking back. Somewhere beneath the stress and grief and fear of the past several days he finds that bedrock-solid core of himself. Anchoring to it, he jams Koumyou's ring into his pocket and slips the ARMS band on his wrist. He crawls out of the flap and stands, eyes sliding past Koumyou lest they fix there and to the tent.

"Just let me strike this," he says faintly, "get it stashed."

"Don't worry about it," Koumyou says gently, reaching for Dev's hands. A few tendrils of sutra reach around and past Dev to simply uproot and squish the tent together, then pulls it back and holds the bundle near Koumyou's side.

It's faster, and doesn't require Dev going long without Koumyou physically holding onto him.

He's not letting Dev slip away, particularly not for a tent.

"Lets go."

Devero tries once to pull his hands free, then just watches as the sutra scoops up and messily compacts the tent. Oh. He does tug a hand free then, but only to pull the bundle over and touch it to the ARMS band. The motion's mechanical.

"Right," he says. His voice is still faint as he finally lets himself look at Koumyou. "Let's go-- home?"

Koumyou smiles a little, faintly, for a second. "Yeah."

And then he starts to tug Devero along, using whoever is acting as stationary anchor to reel them both in with their help, so that the two don't end up wandering aimlessly around in the void.

Once they hit the platform, Koumyou does not stop. He won't stop until they're both on the train itself.

It's not an easy transition. The Void is unfathomably big and chaotic, and Devero doesn't have much in the way of reserves after all of this. He's exhausted, physically almost as much as mentally. A chaos of voices and images buffets them both on the trip trainward, trying to encourage them both to let go, to give up, to stay. Don't they want to stay here in the void? Together? Forever?

As tired as he is, that's a hard temptation for Devero to resist. His hands in Koumyou's may loosen; his heart yearns for peace, for rest.

Can't we just...? he says and doesn't say, but it's between them in the chaotic voidstuff anyway. Wouldn't it be so nice, so easy, to give up and let go and be lost, together, and be free of the pain that comes with living life?

Koumyou doesn't stop moving, but he detours just slightly to step back and to the side during one of those times that Devero's hands loosen, releasing one hand to sling his arm around Dev's back and then the other to scoop up under his legs.

He's tired, exhausted, but other than the toll of anchoring it's all mental and spiritual. Waking up in luggage does at least reset some things.

There's a moment of resistance from Devero when Koumyou scoops him up, just an instant of refusal dredged up from that old, stubborn belief that he needs to carry his own weight.

But the instant passes with the sensation of wiry, impossibly strong arms around him. In this transient space between realities they may or may not have physical bodies to be scooped up and held, but Koumyou's will is just as wiry and impossibly strong as his body. It's his will more than his body, so unwavering and determined, that Devero shelters within as they cross the last of the clutching chaos and emerge on the platform.

Devero is undeniably corporeal for only an instant in Koumyou's arms before he is subsumed in golden light and flashed away to luggage with the rest of the rescued. He appears, thumping down huge and heavy half-inside an empty trunk.

He's going to just. Lay here and let his mind reel around his exhausted body. Just for a minute.

Koumyou just wants to join him and be a lump for a while on the floor, but he knows if he does he's not getting up again anytime soon.

So, just as has happened after other exhausting ordeals in the past, it's the cautious tendrils of the sutra that snake under Devero's form to scoop him up for moving.

Just gotta. Get.

To the room.

Then they can both shut down for a while.

There's not a twitch of protest from Devero when Koumyou scoops him up with the sutra. In fact, he turns his cheek into the paper near his shoulder, nuzzling it just to feel the rasp of his stubble against the living parchment. (Not that it feels any different from when it's inert parchment, but.)

Only when they're in their sleeper car does he start to wriggle, patting himself down clumsily to find his ticket and let them into their room.

(But. He knows right now it's parchment controlled by the will of his living Sanzo. So, no wonder it's different.)

Koumyou waits for the door to slide open, then deposits Devero on the bed before climbing on clumsily himself, not even dismissing the tendrils.

Devero is clumsy too, their tiny cabin and tinier bed feeling more cramped than usual after his time spent off the train. Between that and his fatigue, he feels huge and awkward and like he can hardly move his limbs.

That doesn't stop him from reaching out to Koumyou as soon as he can, his big hands skimming restlessly over his Sanzo's shoulders. "It's really you, right?" he asks thickly.

That's okay, Koumyou's just as quick to get right into Devero's space even for what the cot allows, snaking a wiry arm under his neck to pull him in close.

"Of course," he says quietly, and then offers proof to try to settle some of Devero's worry, "would the Seiten listen to me if it wasn't?"

He sighs.

"It turns out the tether was still strong enough, I woke up in luggage. I couldn't get back to you until the train agreed on a plan and let us out. I couldn't send you a message or anything. I just..."

It's stupid, that it takes effort to stop holding shit back, sometimes. As good as he is at compartmentalizing...

"I'm sorry," Koumyou's voice is hoarse already from the tears trying to work their way out of him, "I didn't want to go."

It wouldn't, of course it wouldn't. Devero buries his face in the crook of Koumyou's shoulder, between parchment and collar and skin, and just inhales in the presence of his Sanzo. His arms wound around Koumyou squeeze tight, then tighter when he hears the hoarseness come into the other man's voice.

"I know," he says. "Don't apologize, I know." He manages a single laugh against Koumyou's skin before it chokes off into a sob. "I was so fucking scared though--!"

"I was too," the confession is so, so quiet, spoken down into Devero's hair.

"Vice and virtue," Devero swears. His arms tightening around Koumyou presage him rolling the Sanzo over to the side, sandwiching him against the wall. He slides one hand up Koumyou's back and into the hair under the base of his braid, separating them enough so he can look him in the eyes.

"Part of me wants to tell you off for-- for risking-- that," he says, unable at the last moment to define 'that', "but you'd do it again, wouldn't you?"

"I would," Koumyou confirms quietly, and adds another, "I'm sorry."

Devero's eyes, staring so intently into Koumyou's, fill with tears. He doesn't even try to blink them away, just uses his grip on the back of Koumyou's head to tuck him close. "Don't apologize, you-- you--" he says, his voice gruff, "you fucking Sanzo!"

Reunion (closed to Koumyou)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject