The Sequel [IC:Go to OOC first]

[Lost heros]

The train rocked back and forth as it moved down the track. A cold mist moved down the train car. The train car was bare and harsh like the early dawn outside. The only sound being made was the rocking of the door that refused to close fully. There were ten seats; five on the left side and five on the right side. All of the seats were filled with ten newly strangers. A couple seconds ago there was loud and boisterous conversation, but now there was fleeting silence. Was it laughter? Maybe it was an argument? Not that it mattered now. The ten were now separated by emotions and memories.

Kristine sat on the leftmost seat on the left side. She was genuinely beautiful. Her soft blonde hair was pulled back tight into a pony tail. Her scalp was clearly holding back the stress. She was clearly recently crying. A lonesome tear was on her cheek, not to be followed by any other ones. She was wearing a tight pink top and black pants. She pulled a strap up and moved her head down. She wiped the tear from her face, and released a loud sigh.

The OOC

[Krytonus]

I blinked. I swear, I'd been laughing a second ago. It was because of...

Because of...

Oh.

Had I even been laughing? Or was I screaming? Or was I... It didn't matter. Priorities.

Where the hell was I? A train, most likely.

Okay, so why was I on the tra- Oh, I was going to the compound.

What compound?

Well, I mean, there was definitely a compound involved. I knew that much.

I glanced around me, at my fellow... people. Did they no where they were going? Judging from their looks, probably not.

I glanced down at myself, at my hands. Familiar, but... Strangely blank. It was like looking at a photograph of somebody you recognize, but can't remember anything specific about. I was wearing a black tee-shirt, and an unzipped purple hoodie. Jeans. And some shoes, but, without laces.

Huh.

It was cold. I quietly zipped up my hoodie, and cleared my throat. I wanted to talk, but I didn't know what to say. I had no idea who these people were, but they were so... Familiar. In the end, I just sunk into my seat. Someone else would talk first. I wasn't a talk-first kind of guy. Talk second, maybe.

How did I know all this?

I sighed.

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle blinked and looked around. Wait, where was...he? Yeah, where was he. He may have had breasts, but that didn't mean anything. He was a guy, or at least in his mind he was, and no one would tell him otherwise. The transgender put a hand through their short red hair and muttered something to himself. Why was he here? Where was he? In a train or cart, it seemed, but where was that going? He would have spoken out, but realized...he didn't want to talk. No, not at all. He didn't feel like talking, so he wasn't going to. But...how was he going to communicate. Oh, wait, he knew some way around this. Knocking his hand against the wall of the train, he tried to get someone's attention. Afterwards, his hands started to move, making sign langauge symbols. Anyone else in the train that could understand sign language would realize what he was trying to say; 'What's going on?'

[Barboneia]

Peter quickly opened his bright, brown eyes, and glanced around in astonishment. Where was he? He didn't remember where he had been... But he was fairly certain it hadn't been here. He raised his hands in front of his face, turning them over slowly, as if assuring himself that he was still, well, himself, and that everything was ok.

While looking at his hands, however, he got distracted by the fact that one of his suit cuffs was unbuttoned. Peter quickly buttoned it, but... Wait... He was wearing a suit? He looked down at himself, and saw that, yes, he was wearing a grey three piece suit and brown loafers. Was he going to a funeral? Why was he dressed so formally?

Looking up, he realized he was on a train. A train! But... Going where? He was about to glance outside, but then he noticed, there were other people in his car! He grinned to himself, and looked at all of them. They all looked different, that was for sure. One of them seemed to be tapping against the wall and making weird hand signs, but he ignored it.

He brushed his well combed, jet black hair back, and was thinking of what he should say. He couldn't stand silence. He wanted to hear voices, to talk. He cleared his throat. "This train sure is going fast, huh?" He seemed to have a natural Mid-Atlantic accent. Did he always sound like that?

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle let out a silent sigh due to the lack of an answer. The boy then looked down at his clothing. Okay, so, he was wearing a grey sweatshirt with a bra binder (he could only feel it, not see it,) and he was also wearing basic blue jeans. He looked nice, really nice. Well, he was thinking he did, but his opinion of good was rather low, so he could look pretty decent towards other people around him. Not like he cared, for he didn't even know who these people were. Where was he? That was what he wanted to know, but he didn't think he'd get an answer. 'So none of you speak sign language?' He signed, looking around for any kind of reaction from anyone in the train. Someone had to know it! Because he was not going to talk, no way. That was not for him. He couldn't explain why, but he just didn't want to talk. What were those people called? Selectively mute? Yeah, that's what he was, a selective mute. He sighed and reached into his pocket for a phone of any kind...no such luck. He sighed and tried the other pocket. Nope, nothing there either. Was he drugged and abducted or something? Because this didn't seem to be normal.

[Kaidou]

I have a longing.

My soul thirsts for that which lies beyond this world. My heart cries out to God, as a supplication, a silent prayer of redemption. My spirit yearns for the holy, for the numinous and the otherworldly. My entire being craves for that which nothing else may appease.

Vodka.

With that, he awoke.

It wasn't a violent, jarring awakening, with heavy breathing and sweating; rather, it was a quiet moment. As the mindless whirr of the train permeated every part of the room (or whatever it was), the figure of the middle-aged-going-elderly Mikhail S. Buinovsky quietly opened its eyes. He didn't know how long he had been sleeping for, except that he had done it in a sitting position, and that he woke up refreshed and ready for whatever came ahead of him.

Actually, the second part was a lie. There was this inexplicable, crippling craving for vodka, for something alcoholic, a craving which ruined what would have been a most pleasant awakening.

What is alcohol?

The Russian looked around him. There were a number of people in the seats around him, including the one adjacent to his. He didn't bother with the identity of whoever it was, for at the moment, there were other things to worry about, like the fact that he had no memory of anything that had happened before.

Is that supposed to be normal? The fact that my brain is empty?

…

What, really, is a brain?

Fumbling about in his coat pockets (for he was wearing a beige trench coat, over office attire), Mikhail was thoroughly disappointed by the fact that there was neither alcohol nor anything of interest. Or even something to drink, for that matter.

What a divine irony it was indeed, for the sound of rain pelting the sides of the train carriage could be heard quite clearly. Or, at least, that was what Mikhail believed to be so. He was still a little groggy from his sleep earlier, so it was entirely possible that it was an illusion of his fevered imagination. Who even knew.

But what is knowledge? What is rain?

So many questions.

Without any noise, Mikhail shifted his body slightly, such that he sat perpendicular to his seat's backrest, his legs in the aisle. He always did that; somehow, he found the slight curvature of the seat comfortable for that part behind his knees (he couldn't remember what it was called).

"What in the world", he said, more to himself than to anybody else.

[The Tricolour]

Knowledge. He needed knowledge. He didn't have any. He tried to search his mind for any memories... he couldn't find them. Then he saw an open door... of some kind of vehicle... a train! People were slowly trickling in. He decided to enter the line. He heard someone say "B". What was B? Ohi, it was a bug... honey! A bug that made honey! Yes, yes... wait, it was also a letter. He looked around for any bugs. No bugs. He sat down. Before he knew it, the train was off and moving. It was packed with people. He looked outside. It was sunny. He thought it was raining. As the train continued on it's way, he began to remember more and more basic facts, like the alphabet. However, his past... he knew that he had one, but what?

[Aidannadia]

"Ay dios mio, my head..." A hispanic man held his head between his hands, taking in air through his teeth to try to cope with the pain of an all consuming headache. Ah... Where am I? Gerardo looked up from his seat and saw the other strangers whom all seemed to be just as confused as he did.

Gerardo stood to look at the others in the train car, becoming dizzy from the rush of blood but the man still managed to stay upright regardless with a single palm keeping him balanced on his temple. It's so quiet in here. Zaragoza made a face where his mouth was diagonal, obviously a little frustrated. "Do any of you know what's going on here? I must've been dropped when I was loaded on this tren, because I can not remember... how..." He paused with his brow furrowed.

"I'm Gerardo Zaragoza." The man finished, unsure of how to proceed. "Who are you all?"

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Why the heck is everybody using vocal language!? This was maddening! He couldn't talk with signs, and he certainly wasn't going to use vocal speech. Well, not forming actual words. He wanted answers, dammit! Why was this so difficult? His motions being filled with anger, he tried sign language once more, doing rapid hand gestures, asking questions like where he was, why he was there, who are these people, and he had also added in what his name was. Someone here needed to know some damn sign language. He couldn't help but tap his foot against the floor either, causing his short red hair to bounce slightly. The transgender's blue eyes seeming to just be filled with annoyance. Okay, just calm down, calm down...

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as he continued to do the hand motions, hoping someone would figure it out.

[New Estaris]

James awoke, back to the wall of the train. He blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust. The air was cool and damp, but he was ok. His blue sweatshirt kept him relatively warm. He slowly sat up, brushing his black hair back. He looked about and saw quite a few people on the train. Especially a boy with a rather bewildered look on his face. Suddenly, a shock of panic rushed down his body, and he patted his pockets. In his top left jean pocket was a scrap of paper with the word Daniel.
Who the hell is Daniel? he thought.
In another pocket was a small silver lighter. For some reason it brought him comfort. He slumped back, and flicked the lighter open a few times.
He desperately searched his memory, but only thought of his name.
Where the hell am I?

[Orles]

The celestial bodies spun through the sky, the moon towards the horizon as the sun began to rise, chasing one another as if they were two chariots in a great race across the heavens. He knew this, as he groggily awoke, before he knew his own name. What was it again? George?

Ah yes, that sounded right. George. But he had another one, too, he realized...what could George be short for? It usually wasn't short for anything...Gregory perhaps? Yes! Gregory! Gregory Osmon! He had found his name and the luminaries, but he had nothing else. Trying to recover his thoughts, he was almost surprised to discover a long silvery beard hanging from his chin. Despite its length, it was full and well cared for. A thankful thing too; otherwise he would almost certainly look like a vagrant. Whatever that was.

The sun's low angle cast beams of light through the train, illuminating its plain interior. There seemed to be nine other people with him, all of them disoriented. One, he noticed, was using what was clearly sign language. Unfortunately, he had no understanding of it, and so ignored the...girl? George was unsure. Oh well. For the time being there was not much to do other than soak up the strength of the sun as it shone through the train, and get to know his fellow passengers. He smiled apologetically at the sign user, before clearing his throat and saying, in a voice deeper and louder than he intended or expected, a simple "Hello."

[New Estaris]

James put the lighter away and re-adjusted himself. He pursed his lips, and searched his memory once again. He snatched one memory, but it was faint. He played the memory, and he felt a tingly sensation in his hands. He opened his eyes, and a thin blue light emitted from his fingers, but just barely so. He strained. The light grew stronger, but it still was only a dim glow. He didn't know why this was happening, but he felt like it was natural. Suddenly the light flashed, and 6 foot staff of shimmering light blue staff appeared in his hands. He looked about nervously to see if anybody saw.

[El Fiji Grande]

Nieman stared at the wall. He stared at the wall. He sta... wait. Where am I? What is this? Who are these people? Why am I staring at a damn wall?! Each person to themselves, each with equally blank faces. The wall. It was the side of a train. A train going where? Was it normal not to remember? Nieman felt as if he had suddenly become conscious, and had awoken in a brave new world.

He looked around the train. A dozen or so people. He looked at his feet. Silence. Someone looked up. Nieman could see him out of the corner of his eye. Someone said something. "This train sure is going fast." Silence - broken.

Nieman didn't like ignorance. Knowledge is power. He might look like an idiot, but he went with his gut, like he always did. Like I always do? How do I know that? Nieman eyed the man who had spoken up. Then, without another thought, took a careful pace across the aisle and stuck out his hand, as if to shake. "Hi. My name is Nieman Jones. Do you know what's going on?" Then, hesitating, he turned briefly to everyone else. "Does anyone know what's going on? What's going on?"

Yup. I'm an idiot. Idiot confirmed. *sigh*. I already singled myself out. Jeez.

[Krytonus]

I finally struck up the nerves to speak. shifting forwards and brushing my hair out of my face.

"Do... Do any of you... Remember?""

My voice was quiet, shaky. I glanced around again, getting a better look at my fellow passengers. One man with a long white beard, a Russian man, judging from the accent. The Spanish- or was he from Mexico... He was the one who had spoken out first. The other guy, who I was addressing now. A few others, and - oh! Somebody at the back was making symbols with their hands. I read them, easily. Why could I read hands...? Ah, who cares. They were asking questions, pretty much the same as we'd all been asking. Their name was Kyle. I replied back quickly, hoping I was doing it right. I knew what he was doing, but not well.

Hello. My name is Callum. I am think we are train. You don't remember too?

I don't think I was signing perfectly, but I hoped Kyle would understand. I grinned.

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle looked around once more, expecting no one to reply, but then there was this one person;this one amazing person who actually knew it! Oh heck yes! Someone actually understood how to do this crap! The redhead smiled before quickly replying. He'd be able to sign much better than Callum, considering they've used this main method of communication for...actually, when did he learn sign language? He doesn't remember. Then again, why didn't he want to talk either? He just didn't feel like it, simple.

You know sign language, thank goodness, was the first thing he signed, just as a quick sign of recognition. This had obviously made him happy, as shown by the smile still present on the redhead's face. I think I am capable of talking, but I just don't want to. No, I don't remember anything, and I could already tell we were on a train. I was hoping someone knew where it was going.

[Krytonus]

Kyle looked around once more, expecting no one to reply, but then there was this one person;this one amazing person who actually knew it! Oh heck yes! Someone actually understood how to do this crap! The redhead smiled before quickly replying. He'd be able to sign much better than Callum, considering they've used this main method of communication for...actually, when did he learn sign language? He doesn't remember. Then again, why didn't he want to talk either? He just didn't feel like it, simple.

You know sign language, thank goodness, was the first thing he signed, just as a quick sign of recognition. This had obviously made him happy, as shown by the smile still present on the redhead's face. I think I am capable of talking, but I just don't want to. No, I don't remember anything, and I could already tell we were on a train. I was hoping someone knew where it was going.

I read the signs as well as I could. This guy was a pro compared to me. A few words confused me, but I at least got the gist of it. There was something about talking, and... Not wanting to..? He also wanted to know where they were going. Something I knew! I quickly started singing back, my face twisted with concentration.

We are go to-

Shit, how did I say compound?

Bottom.

That wasn't the word. I had been trying to say base.

No, wait.

Was it military? Maybe. That'd be close enough, I supposed.

Word is town, but soldiers?

Come on.

Somewhere for military. I not many good at this.

I shrugged.

Why did I even speak sign? I don't think anybody in my family spoke it. Did I even have a family? Suddenly, I wasn't so sure. I knew literally nothing.

No know why speak sign. Confuse.

I watched Kyle as he read my signs, even saw him smile a few times. I think my broken speech was funny. As I finished, watching his face, I suddenly sat rigid.

I had seen that face before. I had seen it speak. Form words. I desperately formed more words, trying to find how to phrase what I wanted to say.

I remember thing. You was speak. With mouth. I think I remember this.

Did this mean we would remember anything?

[El Fiji Grande]

Nieman looked bewildered around the room. His mouth just sort of hung open for a second, before he snapped it shut. He could not be more confused. He had asked a simple question, and, while judging from their looks, no one else really knew the answer, he had at the very least expected a response of some kind.

Now two dudes were flapping hands at each other, one guy was huddled in a corner playing with blue light, and everyone else seemed to be minding their own business.

Creeps.

He could probably find a way out of here - quantum tunnel through the side of the train, or go to another car to see if there were more people over there. But he decided for the time being to stay put, with these... these.. weirdos.. They were the only people he had.

Nieman nodded curtly, muttered something under his breath, and stepped to the side.

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle was trying to understand what this person was trying to say at first. Word is town, but soldiers? The heck did that mean? An outposts? A military outpost? No, trains don't go to those places, do they? No, that's just crazy. Uh..bunker? No, that made even less sense. Uh, well, there's one other option.

Compound? He asked, still being rather confused by the signs this person was giving. This wasn't anything that made sense. Although, currently, nothing seemed to make sense, and he was pretty sure that the theory about him being drugged and forced onto this train was about as good as any other theory he could think of. The thing that had caught his attention the most was this man saying that he had once spoken before with actual words.

You've hear me talk? He asked, the transgender's face turning into a frown. Well, he didn't like to talk, but he might have talked with actual words once before...yeah. Maybe he did. When did you hear this?

[Krytonus]

So that was the word for compound. I felt stupid now. As he asked me about hearing him talk, I thought for a moment. Where had I heard him speak? I racked my brain for any information, any at all, but my mind was still blank. I signed back.

I no know. I try, but just-. At this point, I remembered the word for don't.

I just don't know. My head feel empty. Weird.

I took a deep breath. I really hoped I would remember more. Being so empty was... Unsettling.

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle nods. Well, that was a bit disappointing, he was hoping that he would be able to know this person. He didn't know anyone on the train, and he was hoping someone would refresh his memory. He let out a silent sigh and then thought of something.

Do you think that if I talk it would refresh your memory?

[Krytonus]

So he could speak. So that means I was right. I did remember him. I quickly signed back, almost excitedly.

I don't no sure, but we should try. Help you remember too, maybe.

Each bit of conversation brought us closer to memories I knew were just out of reach. I just needed to remember, and everything would be clear.

I hoped what I would remember would be good.

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle nods and took a deep breath. He could speak, he knew that, all he had to do was talk for just a bit and see if it would spark up some memories. He slowly exhaled before speaking. "Don't expect me to talk for very long," He said in a...rather feminine voice. Though it did make sense because he was technically still female. "Oh god, this feels weird." This time his voice was sounding more like a male's, but it wasn't that good of an impression.

[Barboneia]

"Oh, well hi!" Peter smiled up at the man who approached him, and he shook his hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones! I'm-" Peter stopped for a second. Did he really forget his own name? No, no... He remembered. He was Peter. Peter Garrets. "...I'm Peter. Peter Garrets. But you can just call me Pete. Not Petey, though. I don't like that nickname." No one had ever referred to him as Petey before... Or had they? Everything seemed blurry.

"I honestly have no clue what's going on! It must be important, however, or else I wouldn't have dressed up so well today. Unless I always do. Hm..." He rubbed his chin absentmindedly, deep in thought. "I wonder where this train is going. Maybe Atlanta? Or Boston? Are we even in the United States? Maybe we're in Europe. I've always wanted to go to Europe! Have you ever been to Europe?" The words came out of his mouth quickly. What the hell was he going on about? He remembered the United States and Europe... But why would he bring them up now? He looked outside for a second. Wherever they were, he couldn't tell.

[Krytonus]

Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't hear the words. I saw something different. It was that same face, that same mouth, contorted into a scream. It shot through my mind like a dagger; filled my brain. I jumped, sitting back and rasping for breath, eyes wide.

"Holy shit." I whispered.

"I... I remembered something. You were... Screaming."

My voice was shaky.

Did I even want to remember?

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

Kyle eyes widened slightly and he shook his head. Okay, that was weird, that was very, very weird. "What?" He asked, his voice going back to that of a female's before he cleared his throat once more. Wait, sound like a guy. You look like one, so sound like one! "I mean, uh, what? You saw me screaming?"