bakerstreet | ( train to the afterlife meme )

( train to the afterlife meme )

The Train to the Afterlife Meme

Congratulations: You are dead.

Maybe you know how, maybe you don't. Perhaps the memory is fuzzy, or perhaps it's crystal clear down to the look in your comrades' eyes. Maybe it was your time; you've done all you wanted to. Or maybe you weren't at all ready to go, maybe you went out kicking and screaming - but none of it matters. You know you're dead, and the train is taking you to an afterlife. Perhaps an afterlife of your choice; you might've earned that heaven. Or perhaps you've earned something else entirely.

It'll be a bit of a journey, though, so you might as well take your time and talk to the other people in your coach. Death knows no place: most of them are strangers, even from faraway worlds. But death knows no time either, so who knows, some of them may be people you know, even if last you knew, they were alive - or long gone.

Oh look, here comes the snack cart.

All the usual:

Post with your character's name and canon in the subject line.
Said character is now dead for whatever reason - canon, AU, what have you. They are on a train with other dead people from many other times, places and worlds.
Characters don't know for a fact where they're headed - just a general awareness that they're going to some kind of afterlife. Whatever they think it is is up to the player.
This meme is built especially for cross-canon interaction, and potentially for threadjacking and group threading - if you're interested, may be a good idea to state as much in your subject line.
Tag around and play nice!
TRIGGER WARNING: Meme obviously deals with death and may deal with other unpleasant themes as a result. Please be cautious.

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[ She's been waiting. Time is strange on this particular train, one that seems to go everywhere in no time at all... though, sometimes, it seems like it's going nowhere very slowly.

That doesn't bother the woman who makes her way through the halls, smiling at strangers. There's no basket of flowers hanging on her arms, but no one here seems to need the little joy. There's a calm that pervades the air and settles on you like a fine dust the more you ride along.

Well. It isn't as if there's a choice to leave. Not yet, not for her.

She stops at one car, hand hovering at the handle. A ghostly smile graces her lips before she slides open the compartment, fingers curling around the threshold. ]

See? "When it's over..."

[ I told you I'd come back. Though Aerith smiles serenely, even teasingly, there's a touch of sadness to everything. He's here; he'd come to find her. How much time had passed since they'd last spoken in person? Did this even count as "in person?"

Does it matter? ]

... Can I come inside?

[ cloud can't remember when he'd woken up on the train, or how he'd gotten there. the details are a blur, only the faintest feeling of pain lingering somewhere in the back of his mind, and brief flashes of the seconds before he'd fallen into blissful darkness. a part of him is used to it, this uncertainty, yet there's something more definite about it now. something certain.

this just might be it, he thinks. that final leap into what a part of him has wanted ever since the beginning all those years ago.

the ride has been quiet for a long time now. it's a sort of smooth silence, lacking in any of the bumps or screeches or sounds that a normal train would have come with. it's unnatural, yet soothing. enough to almost lull him back into some sort of a hazy sleep. were he alone, undisturbed, no doubt such sleep would greet him.

but he's not.

she stands there like they'd never parted, pure and perfect and whole.

something inside of cloud breaks-- or perhaps something is finally coming together again. either way, mako-blue eyes widen a fraction, mouth stuck frozen on a name he hasn't dared utter in a long time. no longer does sleep sound welcoming, when all he can do is stare at her. ]

Aerith--

[ he's dreamed of seeing here again, has seen her out of the corner of his eye time and time again. now she's here -- i looked for you -- and cloud has no idea what to say. ]

[ She'll take that as a yes. The brunette slips inside and closes the door behind her; she isn't expecting anyone else to arrive. Her lips quirk upward again, encouraging the smile in the newly-dead Cloud, the one she feels like she's been waiting forever for.

She settles in across from him, smoothing down the front of her dress, hands folding in her lap. Green eyes meet blue and she tilts her head slightly, studying him. ]

Is it selfish to say that it's nice to see you again? [ Brown ringlets tumble over her shoulders as she glances down, examining the ground, and then lifting her head again to meet his gaze. Still so sad, Cloud. Always... looking for something. ]

[ with how many times he's seen her, always there lingering like a phantom he can never reach, always the sound of her voice ringing right behind his ears-- it has him wondering if he's seeing things again. if he's slumped right back into the pit he'd so adamantly wanted to stay in after they'd defeated sephiroth, if the geostigma is racing through his veins once more.

cloud knows he's been doing much better since then, has found direction in his life with the delivery service. he's been... alright, happy even. despite how he'll never quite get over the adventure and its losses that they'd all endured.

she sits down as if they'd agreed to meet on this train, with cloud watching her carefully while something inside of his chest begins to ache. ]

You're...

[ here. ]

How?

[ Aerith stretches out her hand, fingers curling gently around his. ]

I'm not sure that I could explain it. [ It isn't the Lifesteam, but... it is, in a way. She's been in it all this time, a part of the planet, as she's always meant to be. And... here he is, with her. They're together, riding a strange, maybe metaphorical train, riding from life. ]

But it doesn't matter. Everything's okay now. [ Except that he's died. She searches his face, wondering, as always, what sorts of things are happening behind that expression. ] You're safe here.

[ You've done everything you could and more. You know that, don't you? ]

[ so far, cloud's felt nothing but numb in this place, but the sensation of her small, slim hand over his changes that in an instant. it breathes life (hah) into him with warmth he's most often felt with her, as he tries to wrap his mind around all that's happened. coming here, finding her, being with her has been his goal for so long, though not without living his life first.

she wouldn't have wanted him here if he hadn't tried, and he had made a promise to zack as well.

but now... ] I wasn't sure this day would ever come. [ that i'd see you again.

his eyes are downcast, fingers twitching lightly around hers before he tightens his hold. if they're here now -- if he's truly dead -- then he's not letting her go. ]

And now that it's here... I don't know what to say. [ where to begin? he has too much to say, too much to tell her, but words fail him as they often have a habit of doing. ]

Well, I was. [ She tries to sound a tiny bit indignant--"you didn't believe?"--but maybe it isn't yet the time for joking. The brunette continues to watch his expression, noting all the little changes, heart full at seeing her friend, her Cloud, again. ] I knew that we would all be together again someday.

[ How could they not be, after everything they'd done? After what they'd done for the Planet? Aerith smiles softly, still clasping his hands. ]

Maybe... you don't have to say anything. [ He'd always been quiet; she doesn't expect him to change. Doesn't want him to, either. ] We have all the time in the world, if you think of something you'd like to talk about.

[ Otherwise, she'll appreciate every moment of silence they share. ]

[ The world had descended into darkness.

In truth, he had never felt anything so cold--not even in the depths of Time Compression, the distortion of space and reality pressing down but somehow still bearable. It's much the same but all so different, and one by one, the chaos had become too much to keep at bay. They'd lost Balamb first, moving the majority of the survivors into the Garden and offering what support they could as they'd moved. News spread, but still, the cities could not fight the swarming creatures slithering in through the shadows so readily after recovering from the aftermath of a sorceress hellbent on creating a universe of nothing. SeeD had been dispatched, naturally, but most had yet to tackle their field exams. Novices, and Squall had watched all of them fall, had clutched Selphie's hand until her pulse had faded into the dust around them.

They lost Irvine less than twelve hours later in the attack on Dollet, and he'd had to drag Zell's unconscious body back in retreat. Quistis and Rinoa, of course, stood with him for months after that, the grit of war heavy and their supplies diminishing slowly. Esther City offered what they could, but even their advanced tech could not keep anyone safe for long. Squall had buckled under the pressure, too many deaths staining gloved hands and the edge of his gunblade raw with the blackness of the creatures whose eyes glowed much too yellow. Much too bright. It's irony grit with the taste of bitterness, and he comes to remember the weeks in stretches near the end. Everything he cares for is gone in a breath, tripping backwards over an edge that's weighed heavily by Seifer's hand like he could stop his friends from crumbling.

He hears a voice - i'll be waiting - and falls for a long time.

It's the burn of the scar across his face that drags him awake, expecting the familiar glare of sun through white curtains and the smell of antiseptic and potion. But it's none of those things, the gentle sway of the ground beneath him giving way to the thought that he's on a train. He'd been on a train once, and that had been... a mistake. A terrible decoy that hadn't fooled anyone, but this isn't the same as hanging off the cars or running along the tops of them. When Squall sits up, he grits his teeth and looks around. He aches in places that hadn't been sore in a long time, muscles stiff from disuse or overexertion; honestly, he can't tell which at this point. He's not alone either, and his hand hovers close to his side, the presence of the gunblade soothing only a moment before he realizes how disconnected he is to the GF he'd had junctioned.

The thin line of his mouth shows obvious displeasure, and he suddenly feels so much older than he really is. ]

... Are you with them? [ Who are you? He's been fighting so long that it only seems natural for this stranger to lull him into a false sense of security, take what he has no right to have. Too much time in the midst of a never-ending war, and he draws up tight, closed off yet pulling on the strings he'd tied around himself as a leader once more. ]

[ he'd considered finding another passenger car when his own company had become second to the newly resting man who had joined him. space, he thinks, space is what all those who wake up here need, with cloud still remembering his own awakening within the train sometime before. yet when he goes to leave, his limbs refuse to move, fatigued and unwilling to depart without purpose-- there are no goals here. only time.

even if he goes now, there's nowhere to go.

so he waits, and waits, and waits until mako blue meets light blue. ]

No.

[ by them cloud can only assume the creatures born of darkness that had been everything and anything but the plagues which had previously tormented his world. gone were shinra and others like it, gone was sephiroth -- he is, he has to be -- and the disease he'd spread with him. but come had an entirely new kind of foe, something none of them had been prepared for.

it's why he sits here now, in a cart on a train heading nowhere. much like the man waking up opposite of him, cloud suspects they're here for the same reasons, because of the same fate.

unsurprisingly enough, the facts don't comfort him. ]

You're dead.

[ his hands curl where they're resting over his knees, head bowed a moment later. it's a hard fact to swallow, but the only one that makes even the slightest sense of what's happening to them. ]

[ There's a snort of disbelief at the words. Of all things, he doesn't think that's quite right. Death means feeling nothing, means the stretch of his scar doesn't hurt or the weight of the trigger isn't as heavy. Really, the world would make sense, and perhaps Squall would have known his mother. He could bear the sting of it had there been that small comfort. Still, this is not Raine's face he sees, and while it's a surprisingly pleasant one despite the circumstances, his attitude leaves little to be desired.

... it probably goes both ways, though Squall has taken some effort to be more approachable and less go talk to a wall.

He's left without much choice then, pulling himself up and using the side of the car for support so his legs don't buckle under his weight. The leather of his pants is slick on one side along his hip, feeling the wound long before it's consciously acknowledged, and he's missing a belt, though it doesn't hinder keeping his weapon at his side as he peers out a window. There's not much to see, mostly thick fog that's far too black in patches, but it doesn't look as if they're moving very fast. They could take that fate back into their own hands if they moved quickly. Squall had long since decided that passively sitting on the side was not the way he wanted to handle things if he still had enough energy to lift his blade and fight. He'd encouraged so many to follow him, and he owed it to those that had died to do this.

His eyes flick to the stranger's stationary form, a thousand different words playing in his head. They'll come back. They always come back. They'll get us too if you just sit there. He opens his mouth — ]

We have to get off this train.

[ — and stares at the door on the opposite side. ] Are you coming?

And what? Run into the darkness?

[ what he means to say is there's nothing there, but then the idea is somewhat appealing. where will this train bring us? if anywhere. perhaps their chances are better out there, somewhere, rather than sitting here and waiting for yet another kind of fate to claim them.

it's odd, how this stranger is the first thing to make cloud consider doing more than sitting there. ]

I don't even know who you are.

[ cloud breathes the words slowly, thoughtfully, gathering himself as he stands. by his side rests a massive blade, one that's seen the nastier side of life, one which has been through a lot. but it's trusty, useful, and he's not leaving without it. only a fool would imagine the outside world -- if there is one -- is safe. ]

[ There isn't a better plan, but Squall doesn't offer up that comment. Most of the dialogue is internal anyway, a debate as he continues to look out the window and keep an eye on the other man without drawing too much attention to the fact. The blade, of course, had caught his interest once the vertigo had stopped. Something that large didn't look as if it served much purpose, especially not in battle, but there is also something about his body language that tells Squall not to underestimate him.

He sighs. ]

The darkness won't stop. [ It hasn't, and maybe it never will. But that doesn't mean they can just wait around for something to happen. ] We should meet it before--

[ it's too late

Except the words never come, suddenly rocked off his feet and lurching to keep his stance as the train groans to an abrupt halt. The shudder drives a strange feeling up his spine, and Squall gives Cloud a sharp look before stumbling his way to the door; eyes that blue must mean something's unusual about him. There's no automatic release when he gets there, touching the control panel just off to the left and frowning. Maybe they could pry it open? Go through one of the windows? He turns and looks up, noticing the escape hatch above them.

... or climb out and make a run for it. ]

Squall. [ He throws the name as he approaches him, leaving the title off and hardly thinking of an alias. Not yet, not when there's still a bit of hope in all this murk. He has to believe that. ] What do you want to do? [ Because he thinks Rinoa would have trusted this stranger with the soft face and odd eyes, and maybe he can redeem himself somehow by believing what he knows. ]

[ squall doesn't need to say it --before it's too late-- is at the tip of cloud's tongue, too, having seen the darkness for himself as it had devoured everything. he wonders about the others, how they're faring, if they still exist on some plane, somewhere. but it's a dangerous trail of thoughts to allow, so soon enough he focuses back on the young man.

or would, if the train didn't shake so violently seconds later. a leather gloved hand grips the seat he'd risen from for support, eyes on squall as he waits for something to happen -- anything -- that might signal things are about to change for worse. when nothing happens, and the biggest problem turns out to be a jammed door, he straightens himself out again, just in time to see their new plan in the form of an escape hatch.

well, not the first time he's crawled through vents or hatches. ]

Climb out.

[ he'd sunk the idea into cloud's head, and he doesn't think he could sit here idly anymore now that their odd plans of escape are in motion. whatever they may meet outside can't be any worse than what they've already seen. ]

Give me a boost.

[ he'll open the hatch. ]

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( train to the afterlife meme )

cloud strife ; ffvii

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ヽ(ﾟ∀ﾟ)ﾉ idk

touches butt

no that's not yours

sure it is

no go away!!!

never ever