#traintober 2023

[monstroso]

Traintober Day 12: Something Borrowed

Borrowed from the BR by Oliver, borrowed by everyone else subsequently. He doesn't mind, every engine could use a reliable brake van.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Traintober 2023

Day 1-A Day Off

Day 2-Closed

Day 3-More than One

Day 4-Returns and Regrets

Day 5-Down a Well

Day 6-Summons

Day 7-Fire

Day 8-Seagull Line

Day 9-The Fallen Light

Day 10-Never a Dull Moment

Day 11-Exhausted

Day 12-Of Reds and Ones

Day 13-Corris

Day 14-The Best Day

Day 15-Recovered

Day 16-Too Late

Day 17-Snow

Day 18-Rebuilt

Day 19-The Chocolate Zephyr

Day 20-Lively Polly

Day 21-Rescue

Day 22-Succession

Day 23-Greater than Yourself

Day 24 Stuck

Day 25-RMS Aquitania

Day 26-Loss

Day 27-Thomas and the Rocket Sled

Day 28-Home Now

Day 29-Rise Above

Day 30-Everest

Day 31-For What We Fall

[theflyingkipper]

My traintober list is here! Please feel free to skip days or combine prompts, this is meant to be fun :] Im posting in advance so that people will have time to prepare in advance if they would like! Have fun everyone and don’t stress out.

[skarloeyspa]

traintober - day 18/19 - blueprint/revolution

[brownsugar-chan]

Traintober day 1: Free day This is something I've been working on for a while based on a conversation @galushanationalrailways and I had!

[ryan1014n2]

Traintober Day 4: Devious

Because he had a bit of previous. But please, you must believious

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 5 - It's Only Me

The Words that Mean the Most to Edward:

Edward had been celebrating a successful rescue of Henry. Henry had just gone to push Gordon into the works siding, when he heard ballast crunch on the lineside behind him. “Driver…” “No Edward.” Edward jumped; a line of trucks behind him went flying. “It’s only me,” snorted the Fat Director, stepping around to the front of the old blue engine. “I thought I’d congratulate you on a successful job today.” “Oh, uh… thank you sir. I did my best.” The Fat Director chuckled. “That you did,” he said easily. “But next time… perhaps give Gordon some tips on what to lie about breaking down. Safety valve my hat! Did no one think to mention I was CME of the railway at one point?” With his piece said, the Fat Director strode off, leaving Edward speechless.

The old blue engine watched as James sulked away, banging the coaches roughly as he shunted them back into their sidings. “Stupid coaches, stupid passenger, stupid newspaper, stupid bootlaces…” the red engine muttered darkly under his breath. “Do you think we should keep him?” asked a familiar voice. Edward jolted – the Fat Direct—no, the Fat Controller was standing right beside his bufferbeam. “It’s only me,” chuckled Sir Topham Hatt, patting Edward’s buffer before leaning against his running board. “I just thought I’d ask your opinion on James.” Edward shot a look over at the red engine, then back at the controller. “I think he has a lot of potential sir, but I also think he needs to challenge himself to show off his potential. He’s in a new environment, with new engines and he had a crash – he’s just acting aggressive to try and hide his fear.” The Fat Controller nodded, and strode away.

“I can’t believe they would… they would say such things about me!” hissed Edward furiously, sparks shooting from his funnel as his safety-valve popped up. As much as he’d tried to keep a calm face in front of the Fat Controller, to hear the engines he’d thought of as friends treat him like they did – speak to him and belittle him for just wanting to do his job and doing the job none of them would do. It… it hurt. “It wasn’t right of them,” agreed Sir Topham Hatt, stepping into the shed from out in the cold. “I… uh… sir! I apologise, I must have sounded a right—” “Edward, please,” Sir Topham huffed, pulling up a crate and sitting down beside the old blue engine. “It’s only me.” “I… I don’t know what to think, sir. They’re meant to be my friends, and yet they treated me like ash and clinker…” Edward spent all night talking, venting out his thoughts and feelings – and when he was done, Sir Topham Hatt simply patted him on the buffer, smiled and strode out.

Edward barely managed to keep a grimace on his face, and not burst into tears. Henry was one of his closest friends on the railway – in spite of years’ worth of teasing – and here he was, lying on his side half-buried in the snow. He was groaning lowly, and the way almost every piece of his running gear was skewed in some unnatural direction made Edward feel sick – but he had to help. He had to help clear away the splinters that remained of many of the vans, then position the flatbed and the cranes so they could hoist Henry up into the air. “The signal was down sir…” Edward couldn’t bear to listen. All he could do was wait and watch as James resolutely dragged the flatbeds away. “Are you alright, Edward?” “I… don’t want to talk sir.” “Oh Edward… it’s only me,” Sir Topham said gently, taking a moment to haul himself up onto Edward’s bufferbeam to sit beside the old engine. “You can talk to me about this, it must have been traumatic to witness.” Edward couldn’t deny it, and even though it was dangerous, and against railway regulation, and all sorts of other things, Sir Topham Hatt sat on Edward’s running board as the old engine slowly puffed home, releasing all his fears and worries and letting the kindly controller into his deepest, darkest thoughts.

Edward cried at the funeral. The Fat Controller was gone – dead, and he’d left Edward and the other engines right after British Railways had announced their plans to scrap them all. While he wasn’t the first owner Edward had had, he was certainly one of the men closest to Edward’s heart – for all that some controllers said engines didn’t have hearts, and didn’t care, Edward did. Almost all the engines did, for all their various relationships with their controller had played out. Sir Topham had kept him on long after another controller would have scrapped him, had listened to him in his darkest times and sought his advice when needed. And perhaps he wasn't perfect - no human was - but all the same, he'd done a lot more for his engines than history would ever give him credit for.  “Don’t cry, Edward,” whispered a voice on the wind. “It’s only me.” And for a brief moment, Edward thought he could see Sir Topham Hatt smile at him from beside his son, their new controller.

Back to Master Post

[steam-beasts]

Farmer McColl knew something was wrong the moment he could hear the shrill, fearful noises of his animals. Every farmer would know something was wrong if they heard such noises.

He grabbed his pitchfork and lamp, as it was late at night, and put on his coat before stepping outside into the cold night. His dog Katie bounded out behind him as the farmer made his way to the barn.

Once he got there, the bleating, mooing and clucking of his animals had died down a little, occasional noises now and again. McColl really didn't like the sudden silence "What the hell...?" He muttered, going up to the sliding door.

Just when he was about to slide open the door, Katie suddenly froze up and began barking at the barn. She growled angrily, immediately catching her owner's attention "Quiet, girl!" He hissed, glaring at the dog.

Just then, Farmer McColl heard a loud roar from within the barn. He jogged a metre back, nearly dropping his lamp as he stared wide eyed at the door. Katie just barked louder, zooming circles around him. Whatever that was, he knew it couldn't be a mountain lion, those animals aren't usually in english countrysides like this one.

Suddenly, whatever was in the building crashed out of the door. Wood flew everywhere, snapped and splintered from the force of the crash. Farmer McColl and Katie luckily weren't hurt, but had their attention set on what came out of the barn.

McColl's face paled, his jaw dropped.

The creature was Emily, the usually kind-hearted, sweet and helpful emerald tender engine that he'd often see and talk to. The farmer instantly refused to believe that this is her, or...was her. Her body had changed drastically;

Her teeth were razor-sharp and predatory, sharp enough to puncture flesh and strong enough to crush bones. Her eyes' scelera was no longer white, but a burning hellfire colour, her dilated pupils staring into his soul. As for the rest of the tender engine...God, it was much more horrific; Emily's entire undercarriage was gone, along with her wheels and siderods, cylinders and likely pistons.

All those parts were replaced with a giant cat-and-wolf-like organic body. She had multiple arms and legs, all of which were coated in thick grey fur alongside her underbelly, her face was also coated in fur, but much shorter.

The two big cycle-wheels that she had were replaced with two huge back legs, which might imply that she can move very fast even with her size. Her claws were interesting – they're the same colour as her livery, but the colour was obscured with blood – in fact, Emily was covered in it. Lastly, her tender was no longer being dragged, but carried by a huge tail beneath that was what dragged behind her now.

Emily stared down at the man, her eyes like headlights which shone down on him. Both were stuck in a staring contest, while Katie barked fiercely at the engine.

Just then, a sadistic and bloody grin grew on her face, the presumable blood of his animals running down her chin. Farmer McColl's own blood ran cold. A deep sound then rumbled from Emily's throat, like a mix between chittering and trilling like how a cat would. It was certain that she was happy to see him, but not in a friendly way.

Farmer McColl knew that whatever sanity Emily had left was slim to none.