middleofsomewhere | Into the Unknown Part Two

Entry tags:

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

Luckily Esteban's exuberance had his wings take the brunt of it.

Unluckily, their fall is a lot clumsier than Esteban expected.

Well, to be fair, he didn't expect to fall, that wasn't in the plans, but he'd also thought Allen would be a bit sturdier than that! He'd rub it a bit in his friend's face it they weren't already a tangle of limbs and wings and a yelp and someone's elbow digging in his ribs (probably his own, but he's not absolutely sure). There's a slow blink as Esteban tries to put as much distance as he can between them, before words skip merrily out of his lungs without enough of a thought.

"Is it a bad time t' tell you y've got gorgeous eyes?" because that wasn't awkward enough yet.

There's a half-swift attempt at fixing things that immediately makes them worse, as he shifts and leans all of his weight onto a bone that immediately flares with protest.

"Ah!-- Pinned! Pinned! Shit-- hang on--" He shuffles, trying to lean away, but his wings have cocooned them into a pretty tight hug, and they don't really have the space to move well.

Smart.

How Esteban has managed to tangle himself into his own limbs is an embarrassment he might not be able to live down. Even though the snickers mixed in with the winces are anything but reassurance.

"Sorry-- just--" He's not really helping his case.

"Dead Guardians in a ditch--" there's laughter in his lungs, and Esteban finally, finally manages to prop them off one wing enough that he can push and roll them both off the cocoon of warmth and leather. "Got it!"

They're free!~ Free at last, and Esteban is quick to pull back his wings with a grin, sitting cross-legged beaming and bubbly even through the awkwardness of nearly flattening Allen in the last few minutes. There's cheekiness in his grin as his tail twists to fan over his feet, hands tugging at his ankles while the damnable wings flare and curl back against his spine. And there's still laughter in his lungs.

"Wow~ Don't think I've gotten that tangled up since I was a Jagged Wing."

That's... That's one way to share in his secret with a friend, he guesses.

Allen wasn't sure how to get out of the tangled mess. Moving probably was just making things worse so after what seemed like a couple minutes Allen just decided to stop for the moment as that might be more helpful.

More so when he wasn't sure whose limb was where and he didn't want to end up doing something he wasn't expecting. The compliment though he paused on and was enough to make him confused. People didn't usually give him such things, but why? It reminded him a bit of his Master though and the way he might woe woman.

"Why my eyes? They are just a normal color."

But soon he was happy that they were no longer entangled because that could have probably gotten more awkward if they stayed that way much longer. Allen himself didn't get as far as to sit up.

"I guess that was my bad? Usually more sturdy that that, but it was unexpected. Though what is a Jagged Wing?" He figured to add at the end.

Edited 2022-08-30 07:23 (UTC)

"Wha-- no." There's a tiny huff as Esteban protests Allen's casual dismissal, but he finds it much harder to put words in order when he tries to properly convey what he means. Hmm, how to say.

"They're darker th'n your hair. But close enough in colour. When you look away, it's subtle, but when you look at someone, they're... they stand out. Y' could probably hold someone with only y'r stare 'f you practice well enough." Not-- literally. But Esteban does believe it-- the slight nuance in colour makes Allen's eyes harder, more poignant somehow. He just kind of sucks at explaining it.

It's a relief that he can turn to his friend's question, change the subject with both his wings flaring on each side of him, half-consciously, half to show off. It takes him a moment to stand up and stretch them-- one has pins and needles-- while he offers a hand to his friend, to help him stand up.

"It's a stage of growth. We use these 'cause it's easy to spot immediately. Usually they're used f'r wyverns, but anythin' with wings works!" A limb stretches so that Esteban can point out at it, grinning. "Jagged wing's when the spurs an' bones start really formin' in the wing. There's also the blood vessels that get thicker. It leaves the wings jagged an' kinda gnarly lookin' for a few years."

It's not the prettiest. But it's part of life, for those creatures.

And hey. A question for a question.

"What's an innocence?" Esteban returns readily, because between their fight in the water, then the talks of performance and flexibility, he'd lost track of the question that had haunted him back in the pool. He'd never seen the claw Allen had casually mentioned, but then Allen had never seen him in this shape before today.

Give-and-take, Esteban figures.

"I think I get what you mean... It sounds like someone my Master would have said to a lady or something." Which he knew full well what Cross was doing and he wasn't the greatest fan of it. Odd when it's aimed at him if it's correct though.

Allen made sure to take his time in getting up incase he had hit his head or something when he went down, so currently he was just sitting on the floor chilling down down there. Not the most comfortable place, but it will do.

But he sits and listens to what he has to explain and for some odd reason it just feels like it makes all the sense in the world. "So it's basically like another way someone grows up if they are from your world?" He felt like that was it in a way, but he felt like he could also be wrong now.

Soon the question changed and he paused, why he felt like that was a question he wasn't expecting was anyone's guess.

"Innocence is a substance in my world. It can come in any form but will only bond with select people. Form wise we know it can become one of three types of weapon. Weapon which is... as it sounds. People take the innocence and form a weapon around it based on the person it's connected to, the downside being connection is a lot harder, but possible. Parasite which is innocence where the person is basically the weapon. That's the one I have, but the downside to using pure innocence is it shortens ones life span. Then you have a newer type Crystal. Which is the innocence using ones own blood to form the weapon. We don't know everything about that type. Either way it's basically a weapon for a war we are in."

He was weirdly casual about the whole thing even mentioning the downside to his own innocence, but he knew and understood and he knew he was going to do what he wanted to do until that day. He didn't mind really.

That it's a flirt doesn't mean it's insincere.

But he can see that Allen has his own deal with that, and to be quite honest, he really doesn't like this person Allen calls his Master? Or at least, he seems to be getting all sorts of negative impressions about him, even though he's fairly sure he's a bit biased against him at this point.

With his friend sitting, it's far more logical for Esteban to sit too, and he does so, wings fluttering lightly and his tail coming around to lay the tip atop his crossed calves, the fin-like structure splaying on the warmed rocks between them. His feet are a bit misshapen from the hem of his pants, pointed, like he'd be standing on tiptoes.

Esteban rubs a hand through the back of his hair as he considers Allen's question. It's not wrong per say, just--

"Yeah, just very rarely." He pauses for a moment, lingering on that, before he adds "dragons used it first." Then the Wyverns. Oh! Wait-- "Wyverns aren't-- wyverns 're creatures. Non-sentient?" Which feels wrong of him to say; it's not quite true. But they have less magic in their veins, fewer words to say. But who is to say that they are less intelligent after all?

Anyways. "In case I got you mixed up."

He-- hadn't expected this much from his-- hah-- innocent question. Much less said so spectacularly straight, just information dropped onto Esteban as he tries to keep pace with what Allen is saying. A substance, but not. A weapon, but a parasite. Shorter lifespans-- and here Esteban has to sheathe in a breath, upset at the consequences for his friend. He can't help his half-hopeful question.

"C'n you remove it?"

It's probably callous. He can't help it. Allen speaks of a war, of horrors Esteban cannot guess at, cannot imagine. Woefully again, he finds himself from such a peaceful world, where a few monsters lay out of their towns-- but not something so grim as a war. So many of his friends have suffered, and Esteban cannot help them. Doesn't know how to help them.

But that doesn't mean he won't try. In his own way. In his cheer, in his joy. In his gifts to these fragile people he loves.

"Odds are likely I will get it mixed up for a little bit anyway as I try and understand."

For Allen it was a lot to really think about, but he was at least trying to get a better understanding and he was truly interested. "So... Dragons are sentient and can speak? Wyverns cannot?" Did he get it right? He wasn't sure.

He was surprised however at the question. Honestly considering what he just said it makes sense to be a question one might ask, but he was still surprised someone actually did.

"I mean... yes, but it's very painful and you only do it to try and save the person should they become a Fallen One. I would never want mine removed again personally. I have a duty and kinda need it."

His wings shuffle again, always so much more open about movement because Esteban doesn't really need to control them usually, not as much as he needs to control an arm or a knee fidgeting. He nods, then shakes his head at Allen's question, finding it awkward.

"Hmm; take it like most pets? Wyverns c'n understand our words, but they don't speak a language of letters. So their understandin's different." Ah-- there's where he got it wrong! "It's not them not bein' sentient-- my bad-- it's that we're not adapted t' the same thought patterns." There's an easy shrug as he waves a hand between them.

"I c'ld, say, learn your language, 'cause writt'n language has similar 'nough touchstones t' make it understandable from one t' the other. But their language's not written, it's... scents an' movements." He's... getting into a needless complication again. His grin returns, and Esteban rubs at the back of his head, before shaking it.

"They're basic'lly highly intelligent pets." 'Dians. He could have just said so and spared Allen the roundabout.

His nose scrunches at the mention of the pain it would cause Allen to lose his Innocence, and he nods lightly. He doesn't truly understand it-- worlds and circumstances that are beyond what he can comprehend. But he does get why Allen wouldn't--

"C'n I touch it?" Is that a weird thing to ask? He's only seen Allen's Innocence once, and fairly briefly before other things-- a water battle among them-- had distracted him. He realizes his questions might be misleading and he raises both hands, tail tapping lightly against his ankles, as he shakes his head.

"Not-- I'm not gonna remove it 'r anythin'. I just--" He doesn't understand enough. Maybe if he sees it, sees how Allen bears it, it might help? "I just wanna understand?" Allen called it a parasite. Or, well, that it acted as a parasite.

"Is it--" he starts, before stopping himself. No; he'd have gotten warned much earlier if it was contagious. And wasn't Innocence a substance? Wow, he's, uh. Getting confused again.

"Is it dangerous?" he morphs instead, shifting the question. "To you, I mean?"

Allen in his mind was trying his hardest to understand and he thinks he is understanding more and more so that was something and probably an achievement for him really. But at the end he nodes at least now fully understanding it. Highly intelligent pets made a lot of sense to him when it was put to simple terms.

Soon he looked at his left arm. "I mean... sure. I guess if it;s a way for you to understand it thats fine." He made sure he take the glove off showing a little cross inbedded into his hand, the unusual color of the arm even more obvious.

"And like most weapons technically yes it can be dangerous to me. But the way it can become dangerous isn't going to happen as it means a really low sync rate and mines over 100%. PLus the innocence I have and I have the same goals in mind."

There's a nod, and Esteban scoots closer to his friend, tail and a wing hovering behind Allen in a movable seat, while Esteban takes his hand in his own. If the red skin and blackened nails ought to make someone queasy at touching him, it clearly doesn't work on the half-dragon, and he traces his companion's knuckles with two fingers.

"Why's it this pointy?" he asks, curious while he taps at the thick skin. "Is that-- like an insect carapace?" Hang on-- "Oh! Is it bigger th'n y'r other hand?" There's nothing really mean in his words, just a stream of questions that comes and goes as he makes his own observations. The skin feels incredibly thick around the back of his palm, and yet smooth, even though there is a paler spot, a cross right in the middle of it.

It's flexible, but it still has an odd look to it. Not quite skin, closer to chitin, almost. But when Allen moves it, it loses all rigidity, and bends and shift just like a flesh and bone hand. Esteban doesn't really understand it, but that's exactly why he's so curious about it. How it affects Allen, how he lives with it. How he understands it himself.

"Wait-- y' said it was a substance, right?" He pushes back his friend's sleeve a bit, just enough to uncover the wrist, but it's much of the same, really. "Did it replace y'r blood, b'cause it's a parasite?" Wait-- there was something about blood; but wasn't that the... crystal type? "Or did it--" Esteban begins, trying to correct himself, but his words fade with a confused hum, eyebrows pinching between his eyes.

"It's in your arm... but it's not y'r blood. Your hand looks weird--" There's an odd glance upwards as Esteban's eyes widen. "C'n you feel your arm?" he asks, completely baffled at the concept. Maybe the extra armor also prevents Allen to feel touch as well.

Allen moved his fingers slightly. "I don't think so. Like I don't know why it became what it is, but I always put it down to it's like it's own armor to make it a bit stronger than my normal arm and it is stronger in many ways and it's maybe slightly bigger but honestly if you look size wise it's about the same." He said as he extended out both of his arms to make sure they were at least next to each other.

These were questions he never really thought about but found it was pretty easy to answer as well.

"In my case, I still have blood, but doesn't mean I will bleed from this arm, but can bleed from here if I lose my arm." He soon pointed to his shoulder. He remembered what happened when he nearly died that one time. He did bleed but not from his arm. So where did the blood come from?

"And I can very much feel my arm. That's why I prefer to not break it because the pain it inflicts is not exactly pleasent"

There's a rustle of his wings when Allen's hand shifts, a soft rasp of surprise before he catches the movement back and watches his friend stretch out his arms in front of him, one gloved hand against the red, shiny skin. He's only providing Esteban with more questions than answers, really, but it's-- it's peaceful. Sitting here, figuring things out. Enjoyable, in its odd way. Or maybe Esteban is just satiating his greed, his need to learn, to know more about his friends. He is always greedy on that front after all.

"Broken arms 're never fun." He huffed, nose scrunching in his distaste for the matter. There's still amusement when he shares this little thing with his friend, exaggerating it just a bit as he picks at the memory.

"Longest two months of my life," he adds with a bit of mischief, before turning to Allen again. "What happ'ned to you?" he asks, and though there is still brightness, he's fairly sure that Allen didn't break his arm by breaking the branch of a tree. He's greedy after all. The good, the bad. He wants to know.

The war is beyond him. Something he really can't help with. But he'll still listen, because Allen is his friend, is important to him, and if he can learn how to help through this-- or even how to not help through this-- he'll jot it down. Learn from it. Remember it. And one day, maybe, he'll know what to say, or maybe what to do when Allen might need it. Maybe. Esteban is still clumsy after all, so he doesn't put much faith in it, but it's worth a try still.

"What happened...Which tome do you want me to talk about?" Because he knew he has broken it at least twice. One not by choice the other very much in a case of being stupid and stubborn which at least he understood now was the case.

He assumed he was talking about the first time back at home which was perhaps the most painful time considering what happened to him in that moment.

"Also long version or short version?" He figured to add afterwards.

Allen's question confuses him a bit. He flounders, lost, wings swaying back and forth as he tries to recover.

"I - First one? I guess?" There's uncertainty, before Esteban finds his footing, his nervous movements settling as he nods. "How many times did y' break it?" He asks, curious and a bit nervous that apparently Allen has a tendency to break his strongest, armor-like limb. There's a bit of a grin that curls at the edge of his lips as he adds more to it.

"D'you break y'r limbs all that often?" Should he start watching over Allen a little closer during the missions? No-- that's definitely out of line, but he can't deny he'd rather his friend kept himself a little safer than that.

"An' long version--" he grins brightly-- "I like gettin' to know everyone!" And he's not one to shy away from that, after all.

"Twice, one time during a mission." He was being a dumbass at the time and really...the first time he was also being dumb, but when you want to save everyone you will break your arm trying.

"But the first time, I first broke it by trying to...use more of it than I was capable of at the time. You know if you overuse something it can break? Kinda like that. But I was trying to save someone at the time. But because of it... Kinda lead me to nearly dying."

What a way to end it without context really. But either way the stories in a way have a thing in common. He is dumb and will overexert himself if it means people are safe. But he is at least now trying to not to do that. SO far he does't know if he is doing better or not.

The mission comment makes sense. The only thing that's stopped Esteban from getting bruised up worse than on his first mission was just dumb luck. He can't say he's stayed out of the way of danger himself. And he thinks Allen might be a bit like him on that front? They'd never been on a mission together, though, that he can recall.

He would have just dropped it at that, when Allen mentions overusing his arm, and the red limb, with its odd strong-soft armor moves again under Esteban's curious gaze. It's really odd to him, and his tail rasps against the stone as he curls it back around his other side, and settles the fin on his ankles. There's still a slight, tiny movement through the limb, little flickers of his limb, as Esteban struggles to stay still.

It grows more restless when Allen mentions nearly dying.

"Y' sh'ldn't--" Esteban begins, a protest on his lips before he catches himself. There's a pause, a long nothing as the half-dragon struggles with the words that he wants to say. Allen has lived through a war. It is not a place Esteban can casually step in. But this is still important to him after all.

"Y' sh'ldn't-- give your life for your friends." It's more delicate this time around at least? He thinks? But it still falls flatter than he intended. He takes a deeper breath, before correcting himself. Sort of.

"At least; don't do it for me, okay?" A... compromise, of some sort? He hopes Allen won't ever be put in that same situation again.

"I didn't." In a war he was aware that the chances of dying where unusually high because of the nature of the whole thing in general, but he knew he didn't give up his life for a friend. He made a dumb mistake to save someone he didn't actually know that lead to him nearly dying.

If Tyki had never found him... he was pretty sure he would have been fine just would of had to recover and fix his arm during that time, probably getting annoyed in the process.

"That incident was a unforeseen situation that I didn't expect to happen which...I guess is normal in war. But I made a promise to keep walking till I die and to save as many people while doing it. Which includes here. But I am trying to do it in a better way than I did back then at least."

Okay... okay.

He settles a bit better with the confirmation, still not entirely comfortable with the thought, but... but he shouldn't worry about things that haven't come to pass yet. The fan of his tail taps at the ground and Esteban shuffles lightly, shifting this way and that way before he is comfortable again. He slips a large hand through the short strands of his hair again, and breathes, and nods.

"Keep walking, hun," Esteban repeats lightly, the words soft and heavy both at once. He... sort of gets why this sentence might hit him more than intended, maybe. It feels like wings of stone; both uplifting, and so terribly, terribly heavy at once. He's not sure how Allen might take it himself.

"I... I think it's good if people 're a bit selfish." Right. He's not sure where their conversation touched something so personal, but somehow... he hopes for Allen. He worries for Allen. Not fussing; just...

"All dragons 're selfish-- they're the most selfish 'f all the races," he adds with a grin, and his wings stretch lightly with his grin. "An'... I think there's good in that. I think there's good in wantin' things for yourself. It makes the walk easier." There! There's the point that he wanted to bring.

He's not entirely sure how Allen is, in terms of selfishness. In terms of selflessness. But reducing life to a long walk that never ends... Esteban can't help but hope Allen sees the little flowers on the side of the road. That sometimes-- that when he needs it... he takes a break, and watches the flowers grow. He can't interfere, or shake his thoughts into his friend's mind. But he can hope that Allen will listen, at least a bit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Into the Unknown Part Two

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