middleofsomewhere | Event: 12 of Beetroot

Event: 12 of Beetroot

It's been a couple of weeks since they had evacuated Osiga. In that time, many of voidtreckers were busy with a project to try and solve some of the many mysteries that surround the train they travel on. By the eight day of Rabbit they've exhausted all avenues, and whilst they have learned quite a bit, there are still some clear gaps.

Just as that investigation comes to a natural end, passengers are woken up by an announcement.

"Attention voidtreckers and passengers of the voidtrecker express. We are travelling to system #2554098133741. I have sent word to the ministry who have arranged recuperation packs for you. You have had a difficult mission and you deserve a rest.

But it is not just for rest. Last time we visited the system voidtreckers shared memories. Though it is understood that many of you did not enjoy the experience it is notable that certain voidtreckers saw memories of this voidcraft. They were memories that this craft had not accessed. It led to more pathways opening up in the operation of this craft.

I have done some research on the system and I believe we can trigger the caves of memory. This voidcraft understands this might be difficult for the voidtreckers and passengers of the voidtrecker express and it is hoped that only those of you who consent to this experiment will take part.

Regardless this should be a time for relaxation also and the dressing room is open for your convenience. We will arrive in the morning.

The dressing carriage is indeed opened for those who go and look. It's filled with swimming costumes, beach ware, summery clothes and sun hats. There's even a cupboard of buckets, spades, rock pooling gear and picnic blankets.

There are also team coloured tents for those who want to go and sleep under the stars for a night or two, though the train is remaining on the island for those for who camping is their idea of hell.

12 OF BEETROOT

RABBIT 9-12 ~ MEMORY CAVES: BONDING ~ MEMORY MAZE: SEARCH FOR THE TRAIN'S MEMORIES
ASK QUESTIONS ~ LOCATION INFORMATION ~ MEMORY CAVES ~ MEMORY MASTER POST

JEMA'GRETHY ISLAND: RELAXATION

The next day the train announces their arrival and they burst out of the void. For those near a window their first view of the island will be of crystal blue sea and white sand. It really does look like a paradise. The train circles down before landing on a grassy ridge, overlooking a beautiful beach of white sand and the ocean beyond. It is warm, but not too hot, a cool ocean breeze cutting through the heat making it pleasant. Behind them is a grassy plain, changing to forest in the distance. There is the sound of birdsong in the purple sky. To the west the land is more craggy, the silhouette of a fortress in the distance.

In a word, it is idyllic. A sense of peace permeates the island.

The place has no people, but it is clearly maintained. The eastern beaches have racks of shallow boats, both canoes and one- or two-person sailing dinghies. There is also a small building in which scuba gear is stored, along with several waterproofed manuals and instructional literature.

There are no living quarters, but there are sheltered sections with basic toilet facilities marked as camping grounds in five different sections of the island - by the hot springs, within the ruined fortress, beside the harbour, on the eastern beaches, and on the northern face of the mountain.

The recuperation packs are found at the closest toilet facilities to where the train lands. They are simple things, small gift baskets with a couple of fragrant soaps, fancier hair products and skin cream infused with herbs to encourage rest and sleep.

There are some sweet fruit biscuits and a cheesy bread. The packs aren't named but there are some suitable for the younger passengers with tiny plush and colouring books. Quite a few designed for teens with a more engaging activity book and components for making a fancy mocktail with a cute stirrer. Adult packs have a small bottle of alcohol- there's a mixture between the packs and what looks like a stone. When placed next to the skin it will either warm up or cool down depending on what is needed.

Exploring, the passengers will find beautiful beaches, ragged cliffs to walk and caves to explore. Where it is more craggy the beaches are made of pebbles, perfect for rock pooling.

A little more worrying is the volcano-like structure in the north. But even a quick glance will show it is not a typical volcano. There is no smoke and the liquid slowly running down it in rivulets is pink and blue.

Ruins of ancient houses are scattered across the island, but the main settlement is built into a rocky section in the north-west that has been secured with ropes and stairways cut into the cliffs, perfect for scrambles and hikes.

To the west are the hot springs. They have both outdoor and indoor areas; the indoor areas being wooden loghouse saunas, changing rooms and storage sheds, whilst the outdoor areas are a tiered series of pools spilling down the side of the mountain and shaded by brightly flowering trees. The waters are hot, mineral-rich and soothing.

MEMORY CAVES: BONDING

Shortly before arriving they will receive some information on their SCA. It will explain how those who once lived on this island went about making life bonds. Both people would bathe in the hot springs and then dress simply, barefoot and walk to one of seven rocks on the island. Their maps will pin point these, which is good because there's no real indication of what makes these rocks different to any other on the island.

Here they must offer their wish to know the other deeper and share food and drink. They can then go about their day. Sometime in the hours after they will receive their first memory, seen through their partners eyes.

However it seems that in envoking the ritual they have woken something on the island. Even those who did not take part or chose to bond to someone find themselves seeing a glimpse of another life.

On the second day they see another memory, through the eyes of their pair. When they come out of it they find themselves in a cave with their partner, chosen or not. The same happens on the third day, except for this final memory both pairs see both memories, watching from the sidelines as it plays out. They find themselves in the cave once more and this time, for many there is only one exit, to leave through together.

Please go here to play out the bonding process!

MEMORY MAZE: TRAIN'S MEMORIES

On the third day the train sends another message to their SCA.

"Activating the caves that share memories has been successful. I know this is a lot to ask of the voidtreckers, but any who wish to assist in discovering what it is that I have forgotten, the path is open now.

Those who wish to may go to the sacred rocks. Please be warned, I do not know how voidtreckers will fare. Please only go of your own free will."

Their SCA's once again show the rocks on their maps and when they get there, this time they are faintly glowing. It doesn't take much. One touch and their minds are drawn away from their bodies, into a labyrinth of caves. For anyone who comes across these people on the island, they look like they are in a deep trance, breathing, safe but far away in their mind.

The labyrinth is made of cool, dark rock. The walls have a glow coming from crystals in-bedded in them, allowing everyone to see as they move through.

At first there's no more to this labyrinth, or so it seems. But then they turn a corner, and they are no longer in cavern as it just was. They may be in their childhood bedroom, or in the middle of a battle they once fought. Perhaps they are not in their own memory, but someone else's. Scenes move rapidly and often merge, one persons into another, mixing to make strange scenes.

These visions don't attempt to ensnare them like some illusions, and those with protection from illusions and such techniques, will be able to find their way forward through the cave, and away from this triggered scenario.

Time barely has meaning. Indeed, when they finally emerge from the caves only a few minutes will have passed. But in that time they will have seen much, and eventually they may stumble across a fragment of memory that belongs not to a voidtrecker, but to the Voidtrecker Express itself.

OOC NOTES

OOC Post ~ Questions
~ You can either write memories in your tags or if they are longer/require a lot of content warnings you might want to write them in this post and link to them. Just start a top level with your character name to keep things organised!

~ For those taking part in the memory share bonding the cave post is here. Characters arrive in the cave after the second and third memory but it is obviously up to you if you play out the conversations after each or both! For those who do decide that their characters will bond- the cave after the third memory will only have one exit for them to leave together.

~ For those who signed up for train memories you will receive the snippet that your character sees- use these in tags as you will. There will be a conclusion post on the 24th which will put all of those memories together!

Art Credits: Header: Tropical Jewel by Steven Power, Thumbnail image 3.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tidus might be confused, but Esteban presses forward, not answering directly what Tidus was getting at, and maybe Esteban's the kind of guy he's got to watch out for that for. Or he's set on a path where he really needs to get this out, with the way he continues down his path. A guy on a mission to really let another guy know what he thinks - about them.

And Tidus's expression is baffled, tinged with some embarrassment; eyebrows that don't know how to settle, how to hold, and a mouth partly open and waiting on the chance to speak too, or just waiting on that answer of his, for where this moment came from.

It's not direct, but he does get a clue at the end, finally; a clue that closes his mouth momentarily. 'So don't you dare go an' vanish on all 'f us.'

Either that's a specific choice of word, or just - well, meaningful too, for their suck situation of losing people. But with the memories in his own mind, and one that he's more than certain belongs to Esteban...

"Did someone say something? Or did you see something?"

He can address what Esteban's said, will, but it'll be better to come clear about that, first. To level with each other, than to be prompted by whatever's going on in their own heads.

Oh! Oh, yeah, he'd meant to apologize for that, hadn't he? On the one hand, this is not his memory to have. On the other hand, it's not like he would have done anything differently even had he known-- they were here for a reason after all. Esteban's eyes widen, before he breaks his gaze away, a large hand coming to rub at the short hairs at the back of his head, gathering his thoughts.

"I saw--" he breaks away, tries to soften the thought, but it's not really fair. "I saw a memory of yours." His breath comes out slowly, nose scrunching with his frown, and both his arms drop onto his lap, dragging the straps of his poi from his side to tangle them around his fingers as he speaks.

"I think it's b'cause of the tetherin'. It was a platform day, an'--" how does he say this without hurting his friend? How does he tell him without dragging the wounds back to light? "You tried to get through the turnstiles." He-- assumes it's going to be enough for the blond to figure it out. "No matter the cost."

It's too familiar; the shards of something twisted that curls in the gut and pierces between the ribs, the desperation that comes with it. Holes where they should be whole. He takes another deep breath.

He's not being fair. He's not being fair at all, he knows how much it hurts and wanting someone to brave on through this, wanting them to keep going is not fair onto them. But there is still brightness that comes on later. Even through the pain and the muck, there is still brightness that comes through. He turns again to his friend, glancing up at him in the dwindling light.

"I wanted you to know that you've done good 'round you. That it gets noticed. That you bein' there matters, an' that if it gets hard-- I can always listen. Or be here. Or cheer you up. We can play blitzball 'f you like." He smiles, tries to offer but not push because he's-- well... learning. To help. Or trying to at least.

Edited 2022-06-06 21:58 (UTC)

Ah.

That's a memory - a memory he hadn't considered leaking out along the cavern walls, from all the others he had decided he'd be fine with being seen. Loosely, anyway; if it was going to happen, then it'd happen, and everything to do with Spira and Zanarkand and his fate was so far gone now that he'd had time to deal with it.

It's still awkward, anyway. And the reminder of that day, of Yuna leaving and the desperation that came from it - he remembers, in the few words spoken. In the hesitation, the restlessness of Esteban's person.

Tidus looks away, but not sharply, remembering the event for himself. Emotions stirring from that long time ago, with some dash of embarrassment, or something like it. For that moment to be seen, shared; experienced. But that settles too, and Tidus looks back to Esteban as he goes on, offering aid in bounds. A pinched smile drawing on his face, and a quiet breath let out.

"Thanks." He says it sincerely, genuinely. Esteban's really doing his best. "...That happened... about two months after I arrived on the train. Me and Yuna; we showed up together, on the same day. It's been a long time."

And there's some sheepishness of his own, a shrug with his head that's half-hearted.

"I was going through some stuff back then," he explains, then says with some amusement: "--Actually, it happened just after we were here the first time. We didn't know as much back then as we do now. I mean..."

...okay, this time he'll give in to the urge and rub at the back of his head. Not really the important part, is it.

"--I'm not going to do anything like that again. Disappearing isn't as useful as you'd think." Which he says lightly, not really a joke but a note like it.

He then pauses for a second, his hand dropping back down into his lap.

"...But you should think about yourself too. If there's stuff bothering you -- ... I saw a memory of yours, too. I don't know how long ago it was, or how you're feeling now... but you can meet a lot of people here, you know? I mean... I don't know what getting to be really old is like, but it sounds like something you're still dealing with."

Given how evasive Esteban was trying to be about it just now. And Tidus knows he can't understand what it's like, watching people you know grow old and die while you still look the same as when those people first met you. But maybe there's people on the train with that experience, even with someone to have that mutual understanding with.

...You know, since the guy's trying to offer his help - he could try grabbing some himself.

"Disappearing isn't useful at all." Esteban insists-- softly, because he's not joking about Tidus' chances to just... vanish. He won't laugh at the loss that he might represent. But he can find something light at keeping him around. "You better stick around like a grass stain. Utterly 'mpossible to get rid of." Pushy, again. But he means it.

He might be kidding, he might make something bright out of a pretty bad situation, but he does mean it. The smile that had teased the edges of his lips lingers, then fades just a bit.

"Please, stay." He won't twist the blond's arm further than that, so that is the last he'll say on this. He smiles at his friend, untangles himself from his poi as he lets the matter rest, a short silence coming between them.

Out by the sea, the mint-green sunset has bled all of its colours back to blue, a blue as dark as the sea below them, slowly turning into an abyss. Stars begin to blanket the sky in their playful shimmer, the night growing dark first, before it lightens, as countless tiny lights glitter above them.

"It's... lonely." He's quiet as he speaks at first, something gentle as he tries to piece together what he might be able to say about this.

He doesn't know which memory Tidus has seen, and he doesn't ask. It could be a dozen of them. A hundred. And he still doesn't know how to begin, words and concepts that are too big, too huge, too constant for Esteban to figure out how to explain it to someone else.

"I'm doing better." His companion assures him, grinning once more. "You've all helped me a lot-- you, Inigo, Amaya, Allen, Romeo, Najaran," just to name a few. It had been a while since Esteban had friends, and he delights at spending time with them; chattering over pies and relearning to hold people close.

"Even Kaiba!" That one comes with a bit more of a grin, somehow proud that he'd gotten through the stoic man's... approval. He thinks. Sort of. He can't help the short snicker that escapes him.

"I have met a lot of people, an' I've missed having friends~" It's a piece of sunlight caught in his hands. It's a bunch of people who have given to him hope and friendship and affection. It's his promise to himself that to befriend people is a good thing, that it brings light into darkness, that it brings goodness out of shriveled hearts.

But there is fear there too. And pain. And Esteban is tired, just as much as he is scared. It takes him time to form words, stumbling in the emptiness of his ribs and throat and mouth, nothingness on his lips that he wonders if he should even share.

Be honest. He wants to be honest.

This is hard. It's hurt and raw and painful and he kind of wants to hide it. Pretend that it doesn't exist. "But ev'ry journey's got a destination." And one day, they'll reach it. He doesn't know if he'd be able to get up after that. He doesn't know if he'd want to.

It's not fair. It's not fair at all, and it's cruel of him to wish it onto someone else. But there is still brightness that comes on later. And one day, he'll have to hold onto that too.

Esteban's words; they're all waiting on the difficult but. Tidus suspects it coming: in the face of the positives, the cheer in Esteban's voice; the smile and snicker that encourage the ends of Tidus's mouth to tug upward too. It would be disappointing, anyway, if that
but' didn't come; nevermind that Tidus had tried to say that he was probably not the best for this kind of talk, how could he be? A guy who's, well - dead, died. Might not live beyond the tether of the train. It's a reality, no matter anyone's pleas - just like death is for most people.

His has to take a second on what this 'but' comes out to be, though. Thoughts dancing this way and that, wondering. "Yeah, but... are you worried about people moving on? Is that it?" In any sense of the meaning. "There's always new people, aren't there? New journeys, new stories."

Just because he would have been disappointed if Esteban hadn't gone on doesn't mean he's any good at this.

It's shallow-- the first words that came out are shallow, don't address the problem directly. There is frustration the way that he trips himself up, losing meaning in the sentences he's spoken, and how little they truly say of the problem. Tidus' words snap his attention to the blond, all the more upset at this.

"I am not replacing any of you," he warns, his voice far lower, and with more of a bite than he had ever used around his friend so far. Around anyone. It takes him a moment to swallow back the anger that rose, and he struggles with it; with loss and fear and the snarl of pain that the simple words Tidus used brought to the surface.

'Dians, he misses people. He misses Adrian and Ammy and Ithil, misses Bea and Shea and Rosa even Red, for all how much he'd been disliked by him. Misses Lia and Kara and her family, faces and places and people he's lost, lost so long ago. Just talking about it leaves him raw and lost, aching for people he can never see again. He will never see again. Each a single item, clutched within his soul. A hoard of the people he has lost.

And those he knows he will lose.

He needs a minute. This isn't-- every single limb is coiled with tension, and he forces himself to watch the very last sunbeams disappear over the horizon. Breathing deeply. It's not Tidus' fault though. He shakes his head, pushes the anger and pain aside, or tries to. It's been too long since he'd thought about them all; too long since he let himself think about them all.

"I'm not replacin' any of you," he repeats, slower this time, without the bite. "There's always new people an' new places an' stories but it doesn't mean I won't be missin' you. An' I will miss you." Lost shards of his hoard. In elvish, the words are far more direct, speaking of a part of their soul is empty when someone is missing from them. And-- he can't quite say that it's a problem.

Or well, it is. It's-- complicated, but he manages to pull together something brighter from somewhere. Maybe a faint smile even though it won't really show in the darkening night. His nose scrunches lightly as he shakes his head, taking one more deep breath.

"Sorry." This struck harder than he thought. Maybe he's not ready to talk about it after all; maybe it would be safer to back away now.

He expected to not land correctly, to not have the knowledge or experience to know how to speak or emphasise without fumbling words. If Esteban had told him to drop him, that he doesn't know, then fair - that was completely fair. He doesn't know what being Esteban is like, Esteban doesn't know what being him is like.

But the way Esteban snaps, accuses him of something he didn't say - it makes Tidus recoil physically, a brow furrowed but not hiding his shocked stare in Esteban's direction. A look at that doesn't quite leave, even if it might ease once that moment is passed, as Esteban goes again.

He's not sure what to say, to speak. There's shame in him for upsetting Esteban, that he attempted to even touch on this with that reaction. He fiddles with his fingers, hangs close as he rests his arms off his knees. Not immediately responding to the apology, thinking he should give one himself. What does he know? Not a lot, but he does speak, and slowly-

"I don't know anything about living a long time, or watching people grow old... I never got to see that with anyone. I just know that things change, life changes, and you lose people and- you don't know how to deal with it. I didn't know how to deal with it," he fixes, wanting to keep the focus on his own feelings, his own perspective than to wash the same strokes over everyone else.

"I never really got over losing the people I did, but I knew I had to keep going. Memories of my mom, hating my old man - nothing's gonna replace them, you know? Even if I'm here, or in Spira, or I'm flung out wherever, I know that, well..."

He feels he's rambling a bit, or about to dip too far into what he wants to express to say. Decides to dial it back, and to explain more simple:

"I could meet a hundred poi dancers, but I'll remember you, too, wherever I am. And I was thinking, it'd be good if a hundred more people got to meet you, and know you." He looks over at Esteban, at the outline of his figure. A ghost of a smile on his face, a tip of his head.

"What I was trying to say, was - I hope you won't make yourself lonely, or let people miss out on knowing you. Even if losing people hurts."

Oof, that stings in a whole new way, because these are words Esteban tells himself so often, clutches at with all of the brightness he can muster. He feels even worse now that he'd snapped at all, knowing, knowing that Tidus is just doing his best to-- to cheer him on. To keep him going.

There's a weak snort when he realizes, barely a chuckle, but it's warmer now, when he adds a soft "I knew there was a reason I called you Sunshine," letting it linger between them. A reminder of the first time the nickname had popped up, when Esteban had been worried about the missions and Tidus had tried his best to cheer him up.

He's a good person. However he came to existence, he's a really good person.

"D'you mind if I ask?" He wonders aloud, curling a knee up to lay his foot on the ledge and lean his arm atop it, crookedly shifting his weight, unable to sit still. He won't push any further than Tidus is willing to give him, but he does wonder about the mention of memories, curious.

He might have caught that Tidus is a dream, but other than the vanishing out without his SCA, he's not... sure what it means. Clearly, Tidus had parents, somehow, so-- is it an existence borne of a different dimension, where they don't have an actual physical form? Is this why Tidus has an easier time not needing to breathe?

(He really should let that go; Tidus had told him it was just practice.

Right after telling him about the eighteen lungs. Esteban is pretty sure he has reasonable reasons to still be doubtful.)

Sunshine, huh. He's glad, more glad of the warmer reception to his words this time around, a better chance to explain himself. But life is like that: stumbling, getting things wrong, just trying your best to share and commiserate.

The day might be leaving them, but Tidus feels comfortable (nevermind the stony furniture). More has changed beyond the day, but the environment; not the colours sinking into darker tones, a quieter illusion being given with it. But here, it's not his thoughts on Yuna, on other things.

It's become a private moment between him and Esteban - between friends.

"Ask anyway," he encourages, a tip of his head, no reluctance in his voice when he asks. "What about? The SCA?"

The same SCA on his right wrist that he raises now, twisted to let him see the strap and face of it. Always the same, always there.

...but compared to the past, feeling less like a weight on him, an ugly way of keeping him trapped to this ride.

"... Maybe? Not really. I was gonna ask about you," he mentions instead. The foot still dangling over the sharp drop taps away a careless rhythm as he refines his question. "What it means to you. Sort of what the SCA does also, but it's kinda not the point."

He's nosy. He's always been nosy, and he doesn't understand everything. But people always live differently, always have their own stories, and Esteban collects them, like precious gems hidden away. Knowing this-- knowing that Tidus is a dream is another detail he adds to the bottled sunshine in his hoard, weaves threads of gossamer into the crest of a glass wave.

"I kinda got that y're a dream," he mentions, "but not what it means, really." There's mischief in his next glance towards the blond, trying to be uplifting seeing as he's not sure how painful this might still be for his friend. "Though that's just beggin' for a tease in itself."

"Join the queue, mister." No, it doesn't take long for Tidus to figure out how that's a tease, chin raising in a confident jut. But dream, that makes it clearer, and there's just a small pause before he goes on.

"It's, well-" Hold on, he needs to bring out both hands for gesturing here, making a circular shape that has nothing to do with what he's about to say. "--We had these people where I'm from, called the Fayth. They were magical - they'd dream, and they could make stuff appear. Mostly, they made what we called aeons, which were like magical beasts that people called summoners could use. 'Cause they had a special relationship with the Fayth, and they were the ones who used a Fayth's power.

"But a long time ago, this guy called Yu Yevon turned the people from his city into Fayth so they could keep it around - Zanarkand. No one knew it existed in Spira, and we didn't know anything about Spira. And for us," Tidus explains, "we didn't know anything about the Fayth. We just lived our lives, grew up, did normal stuff."

Well, what was normal for them, but it's not a clarification Tidus thinks to make.

"That's the short version of it," Tidus shares. "It's because of the Fayth that Zanarkand existed. Without them... dreams end, right? So this-" He lifts his wrist again, the one with his SCA. "--is the thing that's keeping me around instead. Not to be a downer, but... without it, that's pretty much it for me."

It's a fact, and he admits it with the same voice as he's spoken throughout, knowing how not cool death can be to talk about, but not attempting to drag down the mood of the conversation.

There's the tap-tap-tap of his foot as the redhead listens to his companion, a rare moment of patience keeping him mostly still. The corners of his lips curl up when Tidus easily accepts the teases-- Esteban will make him regret that at some point-- but the rough overview of the Fayth has him shifting lightly, curious as to what his friend is saying. Magical beasts and Summoners get him curious, impossibly so, but they're moving on too fast and he doesn't want to interrupt.

He sort of gathers that people aren't born Fayth, then that Zanarkand-- the half-elf notes the name, it seems important-- stayed around... in a dream? Zanarkand is a world set in a dream, Spira is another world? He knows Tidus wrote down in Spiran in his little book of friends-- wait-- what happened to the Fayth? Tidus is wrapping things up too fast, he's not catching on and--

Oh. Oh, Dead Guardian in a ditch.

His foot stops tapping. Esteban's eyes are wide and his body grows eerily still as he processes this, and the immediate need to do something, do anything claws inside his ribs. He manages to stay still for a handful of seconds only, before Esteban stands, and starts pacing.

Swallowed gods, he hadn't-- it hadn't registered. He'd understood Tidus could disappear, but it hadn't registered. It's too much to swallow right away, and Esteban has to kick too much aside, anger and pain and despair. It curls heavy lumps into his throat and along his spine, drags icy nails across his shoulders. He can't save anyone. He knows this.

"What did the Void Ministry say?" he tries, clutching at the thought, because there has to be something they can try, there has to be something they can do.

Uh oh?

... uh oh.

There was some expectation, a dislike for his condition, the kind where you'd rather it wasn't true, but life just sucks that way sometimes. But then Esteban's up, a pacing, a kind of dance that doesn't suit anyone. The kind of dance that Tidus knows well from being in Spira.

He's wondering now what to say, how to make it better, to reassure him; but Esteban speaks first before anything can pretend to be an idea in his brain, and he looks aside, expression both difficult and guilty.

"Not much?" Nothing, more like, but that feels too empty to say, even if- "I told them my problem, and the girl said she'd look into it. I won't hear anything 'til we meet the Ministry again, probably."

It's just a longer 'nothing', an answer that a guy who'd pace like that wouldn't want to hear. So Tidus attempts to go on, winging with some honesty:

"But it's good they're looking into it - they might be able to help a lot of people than just me. And as long as we're figuring out how to get people back, I'm not going anywhere. I'm stuck with the train 'til this mess is over with."

"They don't have a choice to look into it." His voice is lower, but controlled, even despite the way his eyes have narrowed, the restless pacing that doesn't stop. He doesn't know what else to do, and it snarls and snares at him that Tidus is dependent on the Ministry to provide a solution-- there has to be something else they can do.

But Esteban is not a mage-- not really-- and he's never been one to hit the books. His understanding of magic, technology and science-- they are all limited entirely to his own interests, and dream-magics were not his domain. Were not anyone's domain as far as he can tell; he wouldn't even know where to start looking.

So, the Void Ministry is their best bet. And Esteban has been holding onto something, has been clutching at it since Ossiga, since Orin and Nyrah and holding onto Romeo in his arms-- getting attached, getting attached to these little butterflies and telling himself he knows how to let them go. What a lie. He's not okay. The train has given him the friends he cherishes today.

But it can just as well take them away.

He's not okay, he's not, but Tidus is the one that matters, and he has to push that at the blond, no matter how clumsy he is.

"They've just evacuated Ossiga-- that's thousands of people that are bound to a Void Vessel. Leaving them-- they can't just leave them in a Void Vessel! It's a temporary fix at best!" One that was going to leave deep scars in the Ossigan minds, he bet.

Was it really worth hurting them this way? But then, he would never have wanted the people that he had helped to die either. Not the old men in the refuge. Not the small children huddled up in the sors. His chin is raised as his pacing abruptly halts, taking a deep, slow breath of the salty air. 'Dians he hates how powerless he is.

"They have got to look into it now." It's not an option. Esteban won't let them make it an option. When he turns to the blond, his smile is weaker, but present still, before he adds "'f I can get you to dance, I'll get them to work on it."

It's rather weak as a tease, but it helps. Silver linings. Esteban's not the best with his words, but he does know that he can have a pull on people. Hopefully, a gentle pull to remind the ministry that their responsibility to the Ossigan should extend further than the initial scrambled rescue should help.

Now, he just needs to find a way to contact them.

It's a lot of emotions at once, or so Tidus feels, the switch between himself and then the Osigans out there and more that were rescued from total death. Tidus isn't sure if this is some disgust with the Ministry, some need to be doing more, fixing things, definitely a desire to fix - and while Esteban flashes him what might be a joke, Tidus's tug of his mouth is smaller, more a response than anything that sticks.

"I'm grateful you care about it," and he is - it's nice, even if it's also - awkward, for how a lot it is, "but, I mean... they didn't say they weren't gonna look into it, you know? And they've got Osiga and that system to be dealing with right now - I'm okay waiting to hear back. It's not easy leaving messages to the train and back - I asked them if they could look into that too."

So they're not just twiddling their thumbs and totally without contact to some form of 'outside world'. ... or void.

Tidus lifts his own smile, an attempt at lightening up, to not make this so serious either. "Let's wait 'til we bust down their doors 'til we really need it. I'm not going anywhere; and if I do, I'll be back once we find how to find everyone! We're all at a risk of disappearing here."

And that disappearing was a bigger problem.

Oh, hang on-- did he-- mis-explain this? Probably. He tends to be clumsy after all.

"I mean that whatever they have to do for the Osigans-- it's bound to help you too." He hopes. But staying here and talking about it isn't really helping much, and Tidus' draw away from the subject is followed, though Esteban's grin is quick to return at the prospect of breaking down the Ministry's doors.

"I don't make promises I don't intend to keep," the half-elf muses, his mouth curved in a wide smile that scrunches a bit at the bridge of his nose. It's easy enough for him to sit back down now, even though he's still antsy with the need for movement, for action, for fixing things; he knows there's not much that can be done right now, right away. It sucks and he hates it, but there's nothing he can do right now, but try and help his friend through.

He's horrible at being still in this state; shuffling and twisting, his knee bouncing with restless energy, but he does settle, and for all how upset he'd been a minute ago, he's smiling now, trying his best to be uplifting.

"Hey." Still restless, pulling the straps of his poi to toy with them without really looking. "If you need anythin', if there's anythin' I can do to help-- just let me know?" He'll do it in a heartbeat. If ever Tidus needs anything, Esteban will be there to help him.

That's a promise he can keep.

He's going to have to watch out for any Ministry doors they come across, isn't he.

He won't go on the point, not willing to say one way or another about the Osigans and himself being the same; it's a point that neither of them are really going to know until they find out more, and Esteban seems to be chilling now, better than he was a second ago.

Comparatively, anyway; a guy more twitchy than he is, and watching his shape even in the darkening light makes Tidus raise up a knee, hanging off his arm just to move his own limbs.

"Never thought I couldn't," he says encouragingly. "--But you remember the same, okay? Not to get all psycho-therapy on you," emphasis included, thick with humour, "--but you seem like you like to offer help more than you get it back. And that's a lot of people here," Tidus will scoff, "--but I mean it. Around here, on the train - no one's going to come after you for one thing or another. So if you've ever got somethin' on your mind... let us know. Just to help you think about stuff."

Like getting really really really old.

Psycho-whatnow?

He's not sure he follows everything that his friend just spouted right away-- why would anyone come after him for anything? And then Tidus has to mention-- even imply that Esteban does any thinking at all, and the redhead snickers openly, grinning as wide as he could ever.

"It's easier not to think too deeply. I like meetin' people, an' makin' sure they have fun!" And that's that. "Tomorrow's gonna come no matter what--" and one of these days, 'tomorrow' is going to hurt like hell. But today? "--but today's easy."

Alright, he's barely sat down, but Esteban is up again, stretching his hand out to the friend he's made.

"Can't sit still," too much antsy energy after all. "C'mon! We're at the sea! Let's go play blitzball!" It would be a pity if they didn't at least play it together, seeing as they have the chance for now!

Well, that sure sounds like avoiding what he just said.

But Tidus isn't going to harp on it more than he has. Thinking isn't his strength either, though he personally did want to think some more about things - personal things, nothing that needed an audience or to be said out loud. But at the encouraging of blitzball, he does relent, standing up on his feet with a small grunt; he's been sitting for longer on this hard ground than Esteban has.

"Sheesh." He's dusting himself off, can't help but to tease, "Sound like a kid! You sure I'm not the older one here?"

He grins, doesn't give much room for an answer before he gives Esteban a friendly slap on the arm.

"Alright, alright. I'll show you some of the best moves!"

Like how to send a blitzball flying.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Event: 12 of Beetroot

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Fade-to-black?

sure!