regarding traintober day 9 (and possibly 10 and 11):
i just had a fairly severe health scare that will put me out of commission today and tomorrow, and so i don't think i will be able to finish these three days on time.
they will be posted this weekend (or next week, in the worst scenario), but for right now i do need a break.
Everything was burning. Everything was burning hotter than the sun, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop!
As he felt his stream-lining shell start to break away with steam bursting through, making his boiler crack even more than before, but it was even quicker to do so as it had been broken up from all that he held in to keep himself from going back to Sodor. To continue on.
He can’t die right now- he can’t! Please, please not now, not now. All his thoughts at that moment were pleading to Lady Above that he wouldn’t fail right there and then, or worse, especially not in front of all of these people and engines. His brother especially.
After so many years of entertaining one crowd, Sodor, the thought of being able to show what he was capable of to an entirely new audience was enthralling to him. It was an opportunity he’d take after so long of waiting to stay in this loop.
He took it, right when Sir Topham Hatt mentioned it, he took the offer much to his controller, and his own, surprise. With all the safety precautions, he was sure incidents weren’t most likely to occur.
His mind started to fill with thoughts he had suppressed for too long, making this even worse as his anxiety rose, fearing for the worse. And surprise, surprise, it had indeed came true as he heard the whistle of a familiar face, snapping him back to reality.
As he glanced around the track, he would feel the wind swirl through the cracks of his shelling as Spencer sped by, feeling his boiler weaken even more as consciousness crept up from the back of his mind, in a painfully slow way.
He could just feel Spencer starting to panic even faster than he was, simply speeding up to avoid the ghastly sight that was the process of becoming a corpse. Hearing the muffled voice of the announcer halting the engines that were behind him to stop, he’d try to apply his brakes but it would multiply the agony by pushing the stuck pieces of debris more into the little crevices near the brakes.
And because of that, his wheels would screech against the rails beneath him, wearing them down. Then, he’d hear the muffled sound of a plate breaking as a part of his forehead started to numb, he could see a golden liquid flow at the corner at his eye.
As the numbness faded out, now replaced with a sensation similar to that of multiple cuts reopening themselves after being stitched up, his vision would start to feel like looking through a cracked pane of glass—-
—-
“Are you quite sure about this?”
“Of course I am! Besides, why not test if these new wings of mine can benefit me in this form?”
“Well if they don’t prove to be worthy, I’ll just have to donate my own wings to you.”
“You’d be out of your right mind if so!” he laughed as he stretched out his wings a bit.
It had only been a year since he had been blessed with a name, and of course, it’s even more magical than it had been described by others. That shiver that ran through him when he woke up with that name plate on him after a little checkover by the engineers. It was amazing.
But of course, that night where he had just returned from a run and Solario had suddenly bumped into him, had caused him to discover this new human-like mechanical form of his. Though he had no issue with it, Solario was quite on edge from nightmares from what he had heard and it was about time he had learnt about this new form.
Well technically he had known about it ever since he had stumbled onto Gordon in his own humanoid form.
Though his train of thought would be cut off as he glanced at Gordon, who would be stretching his own wings as both of them glanced at what was in front of them. It would be-
“Oh this cliff is as beautiful as I remembered it!”
It would be a cliff, the slope would practically be invisible as the view below it was a bit nerve wracking yet thrilling. Oh to see the world below from above such a height like this would be amazing, hence why they’re here.
He’s already proved he could glide off the ground a bit, why not do it from a great height!
As he stretched out his wings as far as he could, taking a glance at Gordon who was looking beyond the horizon, he’d look to what was infront of him as well. The warmth of dawn as the sun had fallen down to the south to rest at last, leaving the moon to finally rise.
“Scotsman.”
“Yes?”
“I promise, to make up for all of my mistakes, I’ll be there when something goes wrong. I’ll be on standby.”
He’d look at Gordon sympathetically. “You don’t need to make up for anything, dear brother. But thank you. The same goes for me with you, I promise to keep you safe as well.”
“Thank you.”
Scotsman stood precariously at the edge of a towering cliff, the wind tousling his hair and filling his lungs with the crisp, invigorating scent of the open sky.
Below him stretched a breathtaking landscape, an expanse of emerald valleys and serpentine rivers shimmering under the midday sun, a view so vast and beautiful it almost made him forget the gnawing sense of doubt that always lingered at the back of his mind. His wings, short and stubby, quivered with a mixture of excitement and trepidation; they were hardly the kind of appendages that would allow for any real flight, but today felt different.
Today, there was an inexplicable urge pushing him forward, a whisper in his soul urging him to leap into the abyss and embrace whatever awaited him in the open air. He had often watched his brother Gordon soar effortlessly above the ground, his magnificent wings—large, powerful, and beautifully designed, complete with metallic tips that gleamed like swords in the sunlight—gliding through the sky with an elegance that Scotsman could only dream of.
Yet here he was, standing on the precipice, contemplating a jump, unsure of what he might discover about himself.
With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and took a step forward, feeling his heart race as gravity threatened to pull him down. But instead of falling, Scotsman felt an unexpected buoyancy, a lightness that lifted him up and out into the vast expanse of the sky, his body suspended as if cradled by the air itself.
The world below shrank rapidly, and for a moment, pure exhilaration flooded through him; he was flying, or at least floating, caught in an exhilarating dance with the wind that whipped around him.
It was a sensation he had never experienced before, and the feeling of weightlessness enveloped him in a cocoon of joy. Up here, he felt free, liberated from the constraints of earthbound existence.
Yet, amid the thrill, a troubling awareness began to gnaw at him: this incredible ability was not something he understood, nor did he know how long it would last. There was a strange energy pulsating within him, a warmth that surged and ebbed like a flickering flame, and with each passing second, he sensed that this magic was draining, like a well running dry.
As he soared higher, he glanced down, the ground appearing more distant and hazy, the trees like mere dots, and an irrational fear began to creep into his heart. How long could he sustain this? His wings flapped uselessly, offering no real support, only a rhythmic flutter that accompanied the growing panic within him.
Soon, he felt the first heavy tug of gravity asserting itself, the joyous buoyancy beginning to slip away like grains of sand through his fingers. Scotsman gasped as he realized he was beginning to descend, the world rushing up to meet him far more quickly than he had anticipated. It was not long before the exhilarating thrill of floating transformed into the cold grip of fear, and in that moment of despair, he felt utterly alone, suspended between the ground and the sky, a mere moment away from disaster.
But just as he began to fall, a powerful rush of wind announced Gordon’s arrival. Scotsman looked up to see his brother soaring toward him, wings spread wide and majestic, cutting through the air with practiced grace.
“SCOTSMAN! BROTHER!”
—-
‘BROTHER!’
Is what he would’ve yelled out had it not been for the lump that formed near his vocal cords, gripping tightly on them as he witnessed in horror his own brother start to become as literal as his name.
He would try to speed up, trying to call out to him, but every attempt would be in vain as his mind clawed at him. His own mind betraying himself. Even though he knew his brother was in agony just by looking at him, debris flying towards the engines behind him, he couldn’t talk.
But at last, as he slid back his smoke deflectors as much as he could without resisting, he would glance at his brother through blurred eyes from the flames that brought a nerve wracking warmth near his face, opening his mouth to call out to him-
“Evacuate the area! All engines behind NWR N. 4 must remain behind him for safety, and for those ahead of him, get as far as you can then head to the emergency sidings marked with white flags!”
‘Get as far as you can’ was all that rang in his mind as he looked to the engines on the track beside his, their distraught faces being carved into his mind everytime he looked at them. He’d try to brush it off as he heard mumbles from Gordon, trying to focus on him instead.
But Scot, those glaring eyes that gaze towards you, couldn’t you consider what they have to say? What to say about your poor weak brother in this moment? How unreliable he currently looks as they pity him? Hm?
“Scot- Please–”
How could you associate yourself with such a weak sibling? It was a surprise enough such an antique were to appear in such a grand streamlined shell, hell, it was a surprise he even still survived!
Stop, stop. His ears rang as he finally looked at Gordon in the right mind, his eyes widening as he saw the… The cracks. No, those weren’t any cracks. The yellow tint in his eyes was shifting colours, to that colour.
Oh look at him, it seems his time is up. A shame, really. He would’ve been a fine static display next to Mallard, don’t you think?
Scotsman’s thoughts spiraled, a mix of disbelief and dread. How had it come to this? Gordon, once a paragon of strength and pride, now reduced to this fragile state. The cracks were spreading, like a disease consuming him from within. Scotsman could almost hear the mocking whispers of the other engines, the silent judgment of the museum visitors.
He deserves better than this, Scotsman thought, a pang of sorrow piercing his heart. But what could be done? Time was merciless, and even the mightiest engines couldn’t escape its grasp.
Gordon’s eyes met his, a flicker of recognition and despair. “Scotsman… I…”
No, don’t speak. Save your strength, old friend. Scotsman wished he could say the words aloud, but they remained trapped in his mind, a silent plea for mercy.
Accept it, Scotsman. This is the end for him. Embrace the future, and let the past fade away.
But how could he? How could he let go of the memories, the shared triumphs and struggles? Gordon was more than just an engine; he was a brother, a comrade. Scotsman’s resolve wavered, his anxiety mounting. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, suffocating.
I can’t watch this. I can’t bear it. The thought echoed in his mind, growing louder with each passing second. His wheels trembled, and he felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to escape the unbearable sight of Gordon’s decline.
Without another thought, Scotsman turned away, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t watch his brother fade away. As he slid his smoke deflectors with a click, speeding up as fast as he can, the echoes of Gordon’s struggles haunted him, a reminder of the relentless march of time and the fragility of even the strongest among them.
—-
Gordon’s wings were a magnificent sight to behold, the feathers layered in a way that mimicked the natural world but were imbued with a glimmering strength, the metallic tips shining brightly in the sunlight, embodying both beauty and might. Scotsman felt a jolt of relief shoot through him as Gordon’s keen eyes locked onto his, the familiar warmth of his brother’s presence igniting a flicker of hope in his heart.
With a fierce determination, Gordon swooped down, his powerful wings propelling him forward at breathtaking speed. Scotsman’s heart raced as he felt the air shift around him, and before he knew it, Gordon was there, his strong arms wrapping around Scotsman with an assurance that chased away the shadows of fear.
In an instant, the world shifted again, and instead of falling, Scotsman found himself cradled in the safety of Gordon’s embrace, his brother’s wings working in harmony with the currents of air to lift them both up, soaring effortlessly back toward the sky.
Scotsman clung tightly, heart pounding with a mixture of gratitude and awe as they glided together, the thrill of being so high, so alive, rushing through him like a wildfire. The initial panic faded, replaced by the warmth of familial love and the realization that he was not alone in this moment, that even in his darkest fears, his brother would always be there to catch him, to support him when the weight of the world felt too heavy to bear.
As they descended slowly, Gordon’s laughter rang out like music, filling the air with joy, a sound that grounded Scotsman in reality, reminding him that even if he could not fly on his own, he was always anchored by the unbreakable bond they shared.
When they finally landed on solid ground, the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over everything, and Scotsman felt a newfound appreciation for the experience, a profound understanding that it was not merely about the act of flying but about the connections that uplifted him, the moments shared with his brother that truly made him feel alive.
Even as he grappled with the mystery of his floating ability, he felt an assurance that he was not defined by his limitations but rather by the love and support that surrounded him. The sky, once a realm of dreams and doubts, now felt like a place of possibility, a canvas upon which he could paint new stories alongside his brother, one leap at a time.
And in that moment of quiet realization, standing side by side with Gordon, he knew that the journey was far from over, that together they would discover the heights they could reach, not just through the power of wings but through the strength of their bond, forever ready to leap into the unknown together.
But at this very moment as Gordon looks back at this memory through the line between unconsciousness and the cruel reality that is happening right now, that’s quite the lie, isn’t it?
