middleofsomewhere | Into the Unknown Part Two

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Into the Unknown Part Two

On day twenty-five of the month of Symphony, everyone is gathered together, at least everyone who follows the request for a meeting to be held.

One of the head scientists - named Till - stands before the group, a look of excitement on their face.

"We have found something, an anomaly in the void. We are not sure what it is exactly, but there is a lot of activity coming from its coordinates. More penitently, initial investigations have picked up readings that are constant with a void storm.

I believe from your own reports you have experienced void storms before, and you know they can be dangerous, but always fleeting, never lasting more than a few days. However, this storm seems to be static. It has not moved or changed since we first detected it.

We understand there may be people who do not want to venture into this storm, and we understand. The loops we have added to your tethers will allow you to stay on the base long enough for those investigating to return. You may experience some discomfort and disorientation during the time your craft is away, but it should only be mild and temporary.

For those investigating, we know little of what you will face. Every storm is different, and this one is already stranger than anything we have come across before."

The scientists stick around to reassure people and help them make their decisions. Those going to investigate are told to report to their craft in the morning.

INTO THE UNKNOWN: PART 2

SYMPHONY 26-29 ~ OOC POST ~ QUESTIONS ~ FIRST PART

JOURNEY INTO THE UNKNOWN

Those willing to go will leave on the Voidtrecker Express first thing the next day, with only warnings and well-wishes to be careful to go with them. There is an estimate for how long it'll take them to reach the anomaly, about half a day's travel by the train's clock, give or take. But there's no telling the true time it'll take, nor the effects of the void that will be waiting for them. Keeping away from the windows or putting up blinds is advised as a precaution, just in case, and to monitor each other's health.

"Warning: Approaching Voidstorm, please take precautions." The train warns as they arrive on the edges, all the usual train precautions have been taken, the lab cart has been shut down, the ovens in the kitchen are disconnected. The train begins to shake as it enters the first layer.

LAYER ONE: CHANGING SHADES
They first experience changes by sight - literally. Around them, objects start emitting an aura that's unique to each passenger, colouring it to match their mood towards that particular thing. Coffee machines? Amazing, paint that gold. A boring book? Ugh, the entire thing is turning grey.

It's a small effect at the start, yet objects aren't the only things being affected - so are the people on board. Their own moods are changing their hair colour, eyes, and skin, shifting more rapidly than the furniture's paint job. And as time goes on, passengers will be able to affect one another's colouration and aura, giving away how they may feel about that person at that moment, if their feelings are strong enough. Never noticed how fondly one feels about you? Now you do.

LAYER TWO: LOOSE LIPS
Going into the next layer, there's an itch that starts to gnaw at everyone - an itch to talk. To friends, to strangers, to anyone; you have a need to chatter, and it has to get out. Attempting to isolate yourself only makes the need worse, and you won't be able to sleep it away. It doesn't matter if you don't know what to talk about - you'll find something.

A good chat will subdue the need for a while, but it will eventually return. So while listening to others talk might help keep it at bay, it won't forever.

LAYER THREE: CONFESSION - I THINK YOU'RE OK
The changes become stronger, and with them the urges. Passengers will feel compelled to tell those they know their feelings for them, whether it's as simple as finding them okay, to having stronger inclinations of friendship, dislike, or even love.

These urges can be held back on for a time, but it's easy for it to slip out; and many may still be suffering from the previous layer, where they get the sudden need to talk.

LAYER FOUR: A CAKE FOR MY BELOVED
Talking is simply not good enough in this layer: actions speak louder than words. You want to create ways of expressing your desires, regardless of how creative you actually are. Building a shrine to your loved ones, challenging rivals to duels. You can't stay idle, and your hands and brain need to be at work! What can you manage on this train?

EYE OF THE STORM

Finally, all of it stops. The colours, the emotions, the compulsion of dramatics; their minds go from being caught in the storm to completely calm (or, as calm as they ever are). It is much like waking from a dream, or going from one very noisy overwhelming place to complete silence.

A second passes, and then another, and then... there's a feeling. Fear, terror - even those who normally have no ability to feel the emotions of others can feel it, emanating from the train itself.

With it comes an invitation. Hard to describe, but a tugging at their mind. They can push it away no problem, but if they accept...

They are looking out. The familiar colours of the Void are all around them, but they can't turn to look. Ahead is a hole where space should be, nothingness curving and spiralling out from a point deep within that wound in reality, tearing and tugging at the unfortunate observer. The chaotic nimbus at the edge of their vision spins inwards to meet it, and vanishes at the edge of the hole. A void within the Void. And within that terrifying chaotic darkness there are shapes.

The train rocks as energy rushes past it, tossing the craft from side to side. It spins, lurching out of control, the connection snapping as everyone is thrown back into their own awareness as the train starts vibrating to at full speed.

But the tell-tale signs of movement isn't there, and a creaking of metal can be heard. The train shakes more as the view outside the windows shows them inching forward towards where the hole had been, and parts of the roof start to bend inward, water pipes burst and the electricity fails in multiple carriages.

Until there's a rush, a shaking and twisting, and the void flashes violently in the windows. The ever distant choral singing becomes a roar as a kaleidoscope of colours fills the interior of the train itself.

Then there is stillness. It calms, and there is no storm, no terrifying darkness. Just the void, as it ever is, ever changing.

OOC NOTES

NOTES: They will be in the storm for three days, each layer takes about half a day.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I - Changing Shades
There's light behind Esteban as he moves through the carriages. Sweeping on either side of him, cloaking him when he shuffles about.

The traveling is longer than he cares for, and he's pacing his patience along with his usual methods; practicing with his poi in the gym carriage, watering abandoned flowerbeds in the greenhouse. He can be coaxed to bake an apple pie if anyone asked for one, or any sort of simple food for that matter.

But sitting down and waiting is not his thing, so, he keeps busy, as the train heads off into the unknown, into the storm, and tries-- (and succeeds)-- not to think about it too deeply. The silence is still unnerving though, and he shrugs as he turns to the person by his side. Glimmers of mirth dance into his bright blue gaze as he coax them away from too deep a thought.

"I'd love it 'f we c'ld hear thunder." He pauses for a moment, glancing to the endless echoes of the outside worlds. "Real thunder. It's not a real storm 'nless it's rumblin' in y'r bones," he goes on, mindlessly stretching as he finishes his newest task.

Behind him, the form shifts and spreads, twice as wide as he is tall, before gathering softly against his back once more.

III - Loose Lips
Words come, unbidden to his lips.

Mostly, Esteban just finds it hilarious. He calls out to friends and tells them they're lovely, an easy wink and a grin darting along his words. He calls out to strangers and tells them the most mundane thing that comes to his thoughts as soon as he sees them. Anyone looking disgruntled gets him perking around them and tugging them along, an easy smile, a quip on his lips. An offer to run, to dance, to move.

"C'mon! Y'r gonna grow roots 'f you stay there!" he cheers, pulling his companion along. "What's it gonna take t' convince you?"

III - A cake for my beloved
[ooc: preferably already known CRs, but could be fun to surprise a stranger]

The ~~Weather~~ Stone Garden Carriage is occupied.

The wings sweep on either side of him, the itch growing and growing until nothing could linger in his mind and convince him that this was a bad idea. It didn't matter. No one cared. No one cared.

There's still a voice at the corner of his thoughts, a whisper, a tiny wisp clinging to the notion that he shouldn't that he musn't. But Esteban is tired of it. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending, tired of not being free. The wings sweep on either side of him and stretch, wingtips clicking ever so slightly against the glass on either side of the carriage, a canvas of leather stretched along thin bones.

He's still human, or as human as he ever was-- the wings and long, slender tail sprouting from his bare chest, horns lost into his hair. His feet are wrong, though-- misshapen and twisted, so that only his toes and the ball of his foot rests comfortably on the stone. His shoes and shirt are gone; tossed aside for convenience.

It takes him one glance to spot his new companion. And it's Esteban's grin that spills brightly across his lips, it's Esteban's eyes that narrow in unbridled happiness as he sweeps-- far too fast, clawed toes skidding on the stone ground as he calls out their name.

They have a second to brace for impact, before wings and arms and even a finned tail wrap around them in a fierce, burning hug, squeezing too tight and knocking the wind out of his friend.

IV - Wildcard
[ooc: As always, Esteban will roll with anything~ Feel free to change his original hooks/questions to something more specific if you'd like! And I'm always available to plot.]

Edited 2022-08-25 22:33 (UTC)

Seto's just trying to survive this descent into emotional chaos. He's found himself spilling his guts to anyone who even looks at him, and it's an uncomfortable feeling. He just wants to weather this quietly, away from others if possible...but to get back to his room, he has to pass through the stone garden.

He's just started to cross when he hears a shout of 'SETO---!'. He looks up. And then he's nearly knocked to the ground by an exuberant dragon friend zooming at him, holding him in a bone-crushing grip. It's...familiar.

A former passenger he once knew and loved used to hold him like this too. Those wings back then were angel-soft, not like Esteban's...but that doesn't bother him. Seto clings to Esteban's back in an attempt to stay upright, face pressed against his shoulder.

"Haven't had enough of me yet?" he teases, gentle.

"Why w'ld I ever have 'nough of you?" Esteban asks him in an exuberant hug. The wings are curled tightly around him, and radiate as much warmth as the smile perched on his lips. He is quite content to stay just like this, but there are words on his tongue, follow-up to his sentence that weighs more than he usually says. They are out of his mouth before he can think to stop them.

"B'sides. Never know when it's gonna be the last time."

There's a heartbeat, too loud, too loud in his ears, before Esteban turns his head, leaning it onto Seto's shoulder, even as he refuses to let his companion go. His eyes close, burrowed in the small comfort of his friend's sturdy presence, as he corrects.

"Shit-- I didn't mean t' say that 'loud." It's not Seto's burden to bear. "It's not-- y' shouldn't--" Urgh, words. They stumble and clutter at his throat, a dash of too much honesty and a bite of too little control that hits him harder now.

Darn it-- it had been fun before, but not this. So Esteban turns to something different; another thought-- straying, lighter.

"Y'r coat really looks nice on you!" Cheekiness returns to his tone, voice lilting lightly against the white, well-tailored fabric. "Y'got a great sense 'f fashion. Not my style, but it suits you!" Sharp edges and clean lines. And lots of belts. He snickers at this, barely giving Seto any room to breathe, though his hug isn't quite as bone-crushing as it was a minute ago. There is hope for Seto's lungs after all.

Seto finds his footing again, leaning into his taller friend. He's warm...and that's somewhat grounding against the tide of his turbulent emotions. He presses his palms into Esteban's back, holding on...not quite as tightly, but he's steady and sure.

He doesn't respond to Esteban's worries with promises that would likely ring empty. He's fairly sure this won't be the last time---as soon as they're free, he's going to fight to stay connected to his new friends for the rest of his life. But even that is a drop in the bucket compared to Esteban's life. There's no happy answer, so he tightens his grip as if that would tie them together.

The storm of emotion recedes a little, and Seto eventually feels compelled to respond. "I'm glad you noticed," he laughs softly. "You're so giving and kind, no matter the struggle. I know what you said before, but I still admire that. And I enjoy being around you. Thank you..."

And then, his loose tongue betrays him again. "So. If you're worried...you can hug me whenever you like, as long as my ribs don't end up cracked."

The open appreciation startles the dragon badly enough that he draw a bit back, eyes wide with surprise, a hint of disbelief. But it fades fast, as warmth replaces it, and even a faint blush comes to redden the tip of his ears, embarrassed by the words.

It's not-- He's flattered, but Seto has it backwards.

"It's selfish, really," the half-dragon protests, his voice surprisingly meek, but Seto won't let him have this argument. And... he's glad. He's glad that his friend is there with him. He's glad he's gotten to meet him.

The mention that he can hug his stoic friend whenever has him grin brightly, fully aware that he'd be a pest with such a blank card, if it were anyone but Seto. He might bother him a bit a few times at first, but he'll not abuse the newfound gift, because he does respect his friend, even if he's not above a little pranking from time to time.

"I know exactly how much pressure ribs c'n hold b'fore cracking," he teases with a cheeky grin, blue eyes narrowed in far too much mischief to be comfortable.

"... But-- thanks," he returns quickly enough, feeling lighter, feeling better. There's a thought for their dust-and-grime coated discussion, the way Seto had startled him out of the vicious cycle, a thought he needs to share. He takes a deep breath at his companion's shoulder, and the tip of his tail fans against the programmer's calf as he gathers himself.

"Rem'mber-- when we talked 'bout withdrawin'?" He asks lightly, drinking in the comfort, drinking in the presence by his side. He's helped. More than he can know. He's helped.

"... Y' saved me that day, Seto."

It's... heavy. It's heavy because of the burden of grief-- grief that will follow Esteban his whole life. But there is Seto, there are his friends here, there are people Esteban knows, and people he doesn't know yet, and even though grief is familiar; Seto had pushed its weight away, for now.

"Sometimes, t's hard to remember that it's worth it." There's another squeeze. It's easier for the redhead to tell his friend this without staring at him in the face-- without admitting to how weak he can be. There's words that flutter on his lips. Mentions of butterflies that mean too much in his own world. But Seto had pulled him out, tugged him back into walking again, and it-- it had saved him. Was still saving him.

"But y' reminded me that it is." He can't tell his friend enough, so Esteban backs away, an arm's length between them. Blue eyes staring into his own.

"Y' saved me," he repeats once more. Weight to words too deep, before Esteban finally backs away, wings rustling and warmth draining as he grins his cheeky grin.

"Betcha she's really proud 'f you for that too!" he adds, lighter now, brighter now, as if all the sunshine in the world could be contained into a little carriage, on a train, in the middle of a storm, in the middle of a void.

"Because you're worth saving."

Seto's heart is swelling almost painfully. It's been a rough journey through these layers, facing things about himself that are still awkward and new. That he of all people has somehow come to focus on hope? And that he's inspired other people to do so? It's still so strange to think about.

But he listens quietly, soaking up Esteban's warmth and gratitude. For all that it's weird, it's...nice. He's a person who stumbled his way into an epiphany and somehow managed to drag someone else along with him, improving both of their outlooks. That's worth celebrating.

Esteban is his friend, and he'll cherish that for a long time to come. So he holds on with a little smile on his face, steadying the taller man for as long as he's needed. They're stumbling through this whole mess together, and he's definitely one of the best people to share this with.

He's smiling when they finally step apart a little, and he takes a moment to really focus on his face. This is someone Seto wants to remember for a long time...actually, he has an idea! But before he can voice it, there's a flash of heat on one of his belt loops, and a certain baby apple suddenly drops into Seto's outstretched arms, her big eyes blinking.

"Snapper? What---how'd you escape again---"

She shifts, her wide eyes searching...and she sees who she's looking for! She growls happily at the sight of Esteban, waving her paws in his direction. Seto takes in the sight of this, looks down at her in disbelief...and sighs, with a little shrug and half-smile. Okay, Snapper. You win this round. He offers her to Esteban.

"I think she wants a turn."

Edited 2022-08-29 00:57 (UTC)

Esteban is glad for the interruption.

It-- he doesn't want to burden Seto too much with this, and he did mean it when he's mentioned that Seto had helped him. Esteban is going to lose them; these fragile people, these beautiful people that he's met on the train. Butterflies fluttering close to him.

But it's worth it.

If his friends are butterflies, then Esteban will protect the gardens where they can rest their weary wings. He will give them the sunshine that he can, he will give them the beauty that he can. He will give them the joy that he can share, because they are his friends, because they are so bright and beautiful, and Esteban wants them to live, live fully and without regrets.

So even though he sees Snapper, and he knows she wants attention too, he takes a moment to step close to Seto again, and wrap his wings around them both. To lay his head back on his friend's shoulder, and take in the comfort offered again. Because as much as Esteban is thinking about his friends, and their gifts to him...

They also think of him, and his gift to them.

It's... humbling. And bright. And soft. And too many emotions Esteban doesn't know how to untangle. There is light in there. And fear. A smidge of it, at the corners of his mind. But he has them. He has them, and they watch over him, the same way that he watches over them. Pull him along when he starts pulling back.

Gift him with life, and love and joy, and shelter him from pain.

When he draws back, his eyes are red, and there are still tears caught into his eyelashes. But Esteban smiles, grinning brightly, as he picks Snapper up from her trainer's hands.

"Thank you~" It's no less meaningful for how weak it sounds, a gentle sound uncommon from the tall half-elf. It takes him a deep breath before he can turn to Snapper again, all of the joy returning to him, and he nuzzles her softly as he holds her close.

"I get it~ I missed you too, lil' bite~" Warm hands hold her steady as he scratches lightly underneath her chin,

Seto still wonders what thoughts are filling Esteban's head. He's always seemed so quiet and thoughtful lately, for someone who claims he isn't good with words. But Seto focuses on what he can feel---the affection that's so bright it's still a little alarming.

He holds onto Esteban once more, relaxing in those wings until it's his little dragon's turn. She coos and giggles, absolutely adoring the attention. She's even batting her little eyelids. What a brat. But at the same time...it's very sweet, and he's glad he can trust his friend with her. He's so gentle and careful.

"I think you might be her new favorite," Seto grumps fondly, but there's still a smile on his face. "Maybe it's a dragon bond I don't understand."

There's a snicker from the redhead, and an easy agreement, even as he runs a tickling touch along Snapper's apple-round body. It helps to be stepping away. He likes Seto-- really, he does, but the reminder, the pressure of time slipping through his hands... he doesn't want to be thinking about it anymore.

He's thankful, of course he is! But right now, he just wants to spend his time with his friend.

And with the little dragon settled in his hands.

"I'm only her fav'rite, 'cause she knows I'd do anythin' f'r her pretty eyes," he snickers, half more for Snapper's sake than for Seto's. He grins and his summer blue eyes remain fixed onto her as he nuzzles the tiny dragon lightly. It doesn't take him long to return to his friend's side, giving him a gentle nudge of shoulder-to-shoulder as he sits next to him.

"You're with her all the time. I'm not. It's just that." He tries to reassure his friend. "I get to be the fun uncle." Laughter chuffs through his lungs at that, before he pauses, considering it. It takes him a moment to find the words that he wants to say, head raised to stare at the changing kaleidoscope of colours in the void.

"My grandfather w'ld like you more th'n me if he'd met you." He snorts lightly, amusement lingering once more. "Less of a hassle to keep up with. An' he'd love to hear so much from you." There's a pause, lingering gently, before he adds "jus' don't let him take you on a flight in the middle of the night. Nothin's quite as eery 's flyin' in the pitch black night, on a pitch black dragon."

Esteban Drake | Purple Team | OTA

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