Tales of the NRM

Hey ho. Barely active blog about what things would be like if the locos at the NRM had faces. Enjoy.

[talesofthenrm]

Welp

Some of you may have noticed I've become active on Twitter again and have started doing some dumb arts. Still really on the fence about whether I should come back here though. I feel really bad and stupid for what I did earlier this year/last year. I was having some bad feelings towards some people and took it out on everyone, and I'm sorry for that. I would definitely take a more mature approach this time but I honestly don't know if I can be bothered with this place now. This place got the series started but honestly I'm getting a lot more engagement on Twitter and a lot less drama. I'm more comfortable there so there I'll probably stay for now.

Once again if you do have twitter and want to see some incorrect quotes drawn out as well as other nonsense, the twitter tag is @talesofthenrm. If not I'm still around here, I just don't post anymore. Hope you're all well. :)

[talesofthenrm]

Hi! I noticed that your main is gone... I totally respect that. I hope that you're doing OK, whoever or wherever you are. If you see this, just know there's a tiny Tumblr blogger right here that's rooting for you! Good luck over there :)

Thank you. I’m doing well and getting on with things, but unfortunately I won’t be here anymore as I get no enjoyment out of making anything related to sentient locos now. My main (aka photography) blog is still around and I’m getting back into certain games now, so… That’s what I’m focusing on. But yeah, thank you. Hope you’re doing well yourself, tiny tumblr blogger. c:

[talesofthenrm]

And after forever, here’s the full story with Tornado. Complete with Scottish-ness, Andrew drinking too much coffee again, Gresley arguments, and Hammy being a sly dog. Not proof read the whole thing yet, but enjoy!

“Scot! Scot!”

He was sitting in the shed that morning, still half-asleep as he was cleaned before he was suddenly so rudely awakened. Groaning softly, he slowly opened an eye, greeted by the dark green streak. She visited York and the National Railway Museum often, as she was prepared for many of her railtours there, so he wasn’t exactly surprised to see her.

“What is it, Union?” he grunted, closing his eye again and frowning deeply.

“Ah’ve got some big news for ye!”

“Can it wait until later?” He had no idea how she always had so much energy, especially so early in the mornings. When he opened his eyes a little, he could see Union’s frames quivering with excitement, which meant that whatever she wanted to tell him must be quite important. “Oh, go on then…”

“Alright. Listen carefully, Eyebrows, ‘cause ah’m only gonna say it once: Tornado reached one hundred!”

His eyes suddenly snapped open, staring at his cousin in disbelief.

“She… she’s what?!”

-

It had been hard, so hard, to keep this a secret, but at last, the night had arrived. The days leading up to this moment had been daunting for herself and her support crew; making sure there was extra effort into making sure she was cleaned properly, passing her fitness to run examination, and making sure everything was running absolutely perfectly.

The sun was beginning to set below the skies of Doncaster, where she patiently waited for people to join the small crowd gathering around her. Finally, the driver and fireman arrived and greeted her.

“Right, does anyone have any questions?” a man asked the rest of the crowd after giving a briefing, smiling after a brief silence. “Good, that’s the right answer. Good luck!”

The support crew, special guests and the press took their seats as Tornado had one final check done by her driver, who paused briefly to look up at her.

“How are you feeling about this, girl?”

“Um… a bit nervous, I guess,” she answered as he climbed up onto her frames, starting to shake a little. “I don’t want to let you guys down after all this effort...”

Her driver smiled at this, leaning forward so that his forehead rested against hers and gently stroking her cheek as he tried to get her to relax. “Don’t worry Tornado, I know you’ll do us proud.” She smiled at that, and he got down to finish the check before climbing into the cab. With a toot of the whistle and a loud hiss of steam blowing from the cylinders, she was on her way.

The first parts of the run were not to include an attempt to hit the ton, but were just to see how she would fair at 90 miles per hour. She left Doncaster behind and steadily accelerated, her breath hitching slightly when her driver alerted her to the fact that she was passing her usual maximum speed of 75. With the fireman furiously shovelling coal and the pressure in her boiler rising, she pushed herself to go faster… and faster…

Before she knew it, she had arrived at York to take on water. Her driver and fireman got out to see how she was and do a quick check of her bearings.

“That was a very smooth run up girl, well done,” said the driver, gently patting her buffer. “I think we’ve got this in the bag.”

With everything in order and with a tender full of water, she set off once more, running smoothly up the East Coast Main Line to Newcastle, where she took on more water before heading a bit further up the line to be turned around. The moment was near.

“Alright, girl, we’ve got three chances to hit the ton,” the driver explained. “We’ve asked Network Rail for a clear road ahead so there shouldn’t be any setbacks. Let’s go and make history!”

With a whistle of agreement, she pulled onto the mainline again, and her passengers were getting their timers and speedometers ready. She spotted the odd photographer at stations and by the line, the word of the run already out among the railway enthusiast community. However, those people and stations soon became a blur as she focused on speeding up again, wheels pounding against the rails as her speed hit the nineties.

“Ninety-six, girl, nearly there!” she could hear the driver shouting in the cab, and she was determined to give it that final push, but suddenly, she felt herself being eased off. The driver explained that there was an upcoming speed restriction on the line that they had to slow down for. “Not to worry lass, we still have two tries left!”

Determined not to be disheartened by the first disappointment, the apple-green locomotive pushed on through, her fire raging like it had never done before as she prepared to speed up again.

However, this time she only slowed more.

“Double yellows, sir!” she called to her driver, frowning softly as she looked up at the signals. Were they not supposed to be given a clear road? “I think we’re being sent through Darlington rather than around it!”

“Dammit,” the driver muttered, looking out of the window and pulling a face at the caution signal. “Well, there goes our second chance…”

Tornado’s frown only deepened, but was now more determined than ever to give it her all when she had cleared the remaining speed restrictions and had one final chance. “Third time lucky, right sir?”

“Absolutely!” he called back, opening her regulator all the way and letting her show off just what she could do. With another long blow of her whistle, she pushed herself like she had never pushed before. The beat of the exhaust could be heard all around as she tore through towns and villages, her wheels were battering the rails, sparks and steam blasted out of her chimney.

Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven…

Do them proud.

Do them proud.

Do them proud.

Those three words repeated endlessly in her mind as she picked up speed, so close to breaking that record.

Ninety-eight, ninety-nine…

Come on now, we’re running out of track, and time! Do them proud! Faster! Faster!

Faint cries of joy could be heard from the carriages behind her, and against the cold wind whipping against her face, she grinned and let out a victorious laugh.

“Well done girl! You’ve done it! You’ve done it!” the fireman yelled, patting the side of her cab before going back to shovelling.

She was flying! Well and truly flying! It suddenly felt so easy to keep up the speed, keeping her eyes on the tracks ahead as she savoured this glorious moment, almost unable to catch the usual landmarks she spotted on her previous trips down this line. It felt like it would last forever, but soon enough she had to slow once more and pull into York station.

Passengers flew out of the carriages to congratulate the driver and fireman, while the men with the cameras immediately headed to the front of the train to take photos of Tornado to put on the front page. When things finally settled and it was almost time to move on again, the driver went to see how Tornado was doing.

She greeted him with a grin. “Have I done you proud, sir?”

“Oh, Tornado,” he sighed. “You’ve done us proud since the day you were built.”

“But I’ve done you… extra proud today, right?”

“Of course you have,” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you home and get you some well-earned rest.”

“Okay… Hey, I can see Scot over there!” she suddenly exclaimed, spotting the fellow Eastern pacific sleeping soundly in the shed. “I wonder what he’ll say when he finds out…”

-

“Unbelievable! How come she gets to go one hundred and I don’t get the chance! How come the newbie gets all the glory?”

Scot had been ranting for the last three hours, and the museum was about almost about to open. Andrew was already on his sixth cup of coffee, not having the patience to deal with him, whilst Adelaide was sat next to Mallard with a bag of popcorn, finding this all too entertaining not to miss.

“Oh come on, you big baby,” said Mallard, looking mildly amused. “Like you haven’t had any glory since you somehow managed to start functioning again.”

“Very funny, Quackers,” he muttered, making the streamlined blue engine roll his eyes in reply. “At least my glory is deserved. I worked damn hard to get to where I am.”

“Ah yes, being given a corridor tender by Sir Nigel Gresley and reaching a speed I and my siblings could beat in a heartbeat is totally ‘working damn hard’,” Mallard retorted, a smug smile on his face as he could tell he was winding Scot up more.

“Ah thought ye liked ‘Nado?” Adelaide questioned, shoving another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“I’m not saying I don’t, but…” Scot sighed, not quite sure how to finish his sentence.

“I think someone’s jealous~!” Mallard teased.

“I am not!”

“Are to!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

It carried on like that for another long while. The Gresleys quite often clashed but for once it looked like Mallard was about the win the argument, until there was a familiar whistle heard from outside.

Mallard’s grin only grew at that. “I take it you’re going to say all that to her face, then.”

“Watch me!” Scot scowled as Tornado headed into the great hall.

“Hey Scot!” she greeted enthusiastically, looking tired but ecstatic. “You’ll never guess what I did last night!”

“Oh, I heard,” Scot replied, a small smile hesitantly appearing on his face. “Union couldn’t wait to tell me this morning. Congratulations!”

“Y-you mean it? Aw, thanks Scot, that means so much!” Tornado exclaimed, not noticing Mallard chuckling to himself. “Hey, let’s go outside. I’ll tell you all about it!”

“Sounds… sounds good,” Scot said, trying to ignore Mallard’s glance as he got himself turned around and lead the way out of the Great Hall.

“Chicken!” Mallard called after him, earning a confused glance from the younger engine.

“Uh… what was that ab-“

“Just ignore him,” Duchess of Hamilton suddenly intervened. “Just Gresleys being Gresleys, that’s all.”

“Oh… okay,” Tornado replied, looking more confused.

“Anyway, you’d better not keep Scot waiting,” the Duchess said with a wink. “He’s been waiting all morning to hear about all about it!”

“Okay, I’ll see you guys later!” Tornado let out a loud whistle and left them to it. When she had gone, Mallard looked over to Hammy, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You’re just as bad as I am, you know that?”

“You’re rubbing off on me, dear,” she chuckled, as Adelaide finally got up with a yawn and went over to Andrew, giving his shoulder a sympathetic pat and wishing him luck.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be moodier tonight, so you’d better get some rest and prepare yourself,” he answered, laughing as she just scowled at him before heading home. “At least Truro’s not here as well…”

“Oh don’t get me started on how he’d react,” Mallard snorted, having overheard the conversation. “Andrew, be very grateful that it’s going to be my brother dealing with him today, and not you.”

“Already ahead of you by thanking the heavens,” Andrew replied. “Right, I’d better go and see how they’re getting on out there...”

“Don’t forget to take pictures,” Mallard reminded him. “I want to see his face.”

Andrew just rolled his eyes at him before heading outside, preparing himself for another eventful day at the museum.

[talesofthenrm]

HOW WAS THIS BLOG THE SOURCE FOR INCORRECT KPOP QUOTES???

[railwayfox-blog]

I’m thinking once my queue runs out, that will be it from me here. I don’t get any enjoyment out of tumblr anymore and I don’t think this is a good place for me. I don’t post much here but outside of this blog things have been fairly toxic on this site, so it’s better for me if I just leave. If you want to message me for anything, you can find me on Twitter @RailwayFox. I’m also on Facebook but will only add people I’ve spoken to before on there.

See you around. 👋🏻

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Applies here too. I had a chat with a friend who’s also gone and decided it’s best that I keep away from this hellsite. I might post the Tornado fic if I finish it but otherwise don’t expect anything else from me. Again, thanks to everyone who supported me and gave me ideas, but I’m done here. I guess since I don’t have anyone to talk to much about this these days, I’m not interested in living steam anymore and I have no time or drive to continue making content for this series.

Farewell.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

What about Truro/Bittern?

okay no not that 

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Is it bad that I ship Scotsman/Truro?

Nah. To be honest, Truro/pretty much anyone else works.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Welp, I mentioned on my Twitter that I had started on a fic about Tornado reaching 100mph and everyone’s reaction to it. And, well… thought I might post a preview just in case I lose motivation.

A bit of clarification with Union: seeing as she spent most of her service life in Haggis Land, she does have a Scottish accent. Also she and a bunch of other locos call Scot ‘Eyebrows’ for obvious reasons.

“Scot! Scot!”

He was sitting in the shed that morning, still half-asleep as he was cleaned before he was suddenly so rudely awakened. Groaning softly, he slowly opened an eye, greeted by the dark green streak. She visited York and the National Railway Museum often, as she was prepared for many of her railtours there, so he wasn’t exactly surprised to see her.

“What is it, Union?” he grunted, closing his eye again and frowning deeply.

“Ah’ve got some big news for ye!”

“Can it wait until later?” He had no idea how she always had so much energy, especially so early in the mornings. When he opened his eyes a little, he could see Union’s frames quivering with excitement, which meant that whatever she wanted to tell him must be quite important. “Oh, go on then…”

“Alright. Listen carefully, Eyebrows, ‘cause ah’m only gonna say it once: Tornado reached one hundred!”

His eyes suddenly snapped open, staring at his cousin in disbelief.

“She… she’s what?!”

-

It had been hard, so hard, to keep this a secret, but at last, the night had arrived. The days leading up to this moment had been daunting for herself and her support crew; making sure there was extra effort into making sure she was cleaned properly, passing her fitness to run examination, and making sure everything was running absolutely perfectly.

The sun was beginning to set below the skies of Doncaster, where she patiently waited for people to join the small crowd gathering around her. Finally, the driver and fireman arrived and greeted her.

“Right, does anyone have any questions?” a man asked the rest of the crowd after giving a briefing, smiling after a brief silence. “Good, that’s the right answer. Good luck!”

The support crew, special guests and the press took their seats as Tornado had one final check done by her driver, who paused briefly to look up at her.

“How are you feeling about this, girl?”

“Um… a bit nervous, I guess,” she answered as he climbed up onto her frames, starting to shake a little. “I don’t want to let you guys down after all this effort…”

Her driver smiled at this, leaning forward so that his forehead rested against hers and gently stroking her cheek as he tried to get her to relax. “Don’t worry Tornado, I know you’ll do us proud.” She smiled at that, and he got down to finish the check before climbing into the cab. After a short while checking the instruments in the cab, there was a loud toot from the whistle and a loud hiss of steam blowing from the cylinders, and she was on her way.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Is Mallard at all threatened by the T1 they’re building in America? I think they’re hoping to break Mallard’s record.

Nope, he and pretty much everyone else are certain that record is not going to be broken (although some locos - namely Scott - kinda hope it is so then Mallard can finally shut up about it). 

The T1 new build project is wonderful and I’m glad they’re bringing another loco back into existence, but personally, I doubt it’ll break the record. 

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Sooo... How long did Scotsman sulk after he found out Tornado went 100? (Also, lots of luck for the New Year!)

It’s been nearly 9 months since she did it and he’s still sulky about it to be honest. At least he has his cousin for ‘support’ (AKA laughing in his face).

(And thank you!)

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Will we be seeing you become more active again in the new year? I've missed seeing your content, especially the quotes. And can we still send questions?

You can absolutely still send in questions. The inbox is always open.

But I can’t guarantee being more active here, in fact it’s likely this blog will die completely next year. I’m losing interest in the whole sentient loco thing, especially now that I’ve distanced myself from the TTTE fandom, and honestly, I have done a few things around here that I’d rather forget. I believe that time I blew up about the whole feedback thing is what was the beginning of the end for this blog. I alienated followers and think I may have led them to feel uncomfortable with sending me stuff. There isn’t as much interest in this place anymore and besides, seeing as my time is extremely limited these days, maybe it is better to just leave this place to rest. But… I’ll see how it goes. I might just carry on with it. I’ll make no promises, though.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

You might have mentioned this before, but do you ship Mallard with anyone other than the Duchess?

Mallard/Truro is my secret OTP.

Other than that no. I used to like a couple of other ships but have since gone off them I guess.

But seriously I think I have more Mallard/Truro headcanons than Mallard/Hammy headcanons. XD

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Welp, here it is at least. It only took me, like, a month to finish and another week to upload the thing, but here it is at last. Great Northern stops talking to everyone after he has an accident in Peterborough and fucks up his face a bit, and his gf isn’t happy about it so she heads down to knock some sense into him. It’s shitty and boring and in the end I just wanted it finished, but here you go anyway. 

Oh, and quick explanation about where the name Kathy comes from for Duchess of Atholl. Some of the Duchesses went by the first names of the Duchesses they were named after. (Hamilton and Sutherland were sometimes called Anne and Harriet by their crews back in their service days). The Duchess of Atholl’s name was Katharine which the loco took, although she just shortened it to Kathy.

Anyway, enjoy?

He couldn’t help but feel nervous as he led the engine towards a lone shed, away from the chatter and noise of the main shed that was usually present at the end of a long day.

“He’s just up ahead,” he said, looking at the engine who pulled up next to him. “Good luck, Duchess… You’re going to need it.”

With that, Mallard reversed and left the other engine to it. After a few moments’ hesitation, she slowly rolled forwards towards the shed, and towards the engine she wanted to see. It was obvious that he had taken a really bad turn recently, not only because he had all but stopped sending everyone letters, but also because he sat in this every night, on his own, with his face toward the back of the shed so nobody could see it.

“Northern?”

While she tried her best to sound calm and encouraging, there was an icy edge in her voice. She knew he was upset, but at the same time she couldn’t help but be angry with him.

He ignored her, not budging or giving any indication that he had even heard her.

“Hey, come out, will you?”

Again, nothing. She sighed, quickly losing her patience. Sometimes, you had to be cruel to be kind.

“…if you don’t come out now and talk to me, you won’t see me or hear from me ever again.”

Finally, she seemed to have hit a nerve, the locomotive in front of visibly shuddering and letting out a small whimper.

“K-Kathy…”

“Just come out, Northern,” she replied sternly. “We need to talk.”

He hesitated for a few moments, but finally a loud hiss of steam could be heard as he slowly reversed out of the shed, his unique form finally coming into view. She had only known him being this way, but things were different. Mallard would tell her of the days when he was a different shape, and how different he was after his rebuilt. According to him, he was just getting that confidence back, but now something else had happened. The Duchess had heard about an incident happening near Peterborough, but nobody would give her any details, so she headed down the East Coast Main Line to find out for herself.

It felt like it took forever, but he finally pulled up alongside her, although he was still hiding his face behind his smoke deflectors.

“Go and turn around.”

“I…I don’t think-“

“Just do it, Northern,” she hissed, tears stinging her eyes as she heard the shakiness in his voice.

Just what the hell had happened to him?

He disappeared, slowly but surely heading towards the turntable. When he finally headed back, he hesitated just before his face came into her view. She sighed again, unable to stay mad at him. His frames were shuddering, and he was whimpering quietly.

“Northern…” she whispered, deciding to reverse herself so she could finally see him eye-to-eye. “Oh, god…”

He still refused to look at her, but she could finally see why his confidence had been so shaken. His face was quite badly scarred, a particularly deep one running across his right eye. Finally, he looked over to her but frowned softly, narrowing his eyes a little like he was struggling to focus, before sighing and reversing a little more. Kathy just gave him a confused frown as he showed a little more of his face.

“What happened…?”

“Well, besides embarrassing myself and blinding myself in one eye…” Northern whispered shakily. “I was so stupid… I got too cocky…”

“Just tell me what happened,” Kathy sighed, starting to get slightly impatient again.

He took a few moments, taking a few deep breaths and finally calming down before telling her. He had been pulling a special train to commemorate the centenary of the creation of the Great Northern Railway – which he had subsequently been named after the year it ceased to be. On the return journey, he had been rushed to keep to time and hadn’t noticed the signal set at danger, to warn him that the railway crossing gates had been opened to let road traffic and pedestrians through. He had run right through them, and while he fortunately did not hit anyone or anything else, he had ended up breaking the gates apart and sending bits of splintered wood everywhere. He had many splinters and a large piece of wood stuck in his face, but against the wishes of his driver he kept moving until they reached their destination, no doubt horrifying countless spectators on the way. He was sent to the works immediately, where the workers spent many hours painstakingly picking out each splinter from his face, soon having to cut into parts of it to get out any bits of wood that had buried themselves. It had left a good few scars, mostly on the right side of his face.

“I also ended up with some splinters in my eye, so I… that’s why I had to move back a bit more. I couldn’t see you…” he sighed, biting his bottom lip.

For a while the Duchess said nothing, just watching as he tried to hold back his tears. “…That doesn’t explain why you didn’t bother answering my letters all this time.”

“I… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry is not an explanation!”

He flinched a little as she snapped at him. “I thought you’d…”

“Thought I’d what? Judge you?” she demanded, looking quite hurt when his expression indicated that she was right. “Look at me, Northern! I’m not exactly scar-free, am I? How can I possibly judge you?!”

In 1945, Kathy had had an accident of her own. Nobody knew quite what had happened, but she had passed through multiple signals at danger and crashed into another train, killing both her driver and fireman, and leaving a fair few gashes in both her body and face. While the workmen did the best they could, they couldn’t make the scars on her face go away. Ashamed and riddled with guilt, she had felt that she could never allow her to grow close to anyone again. That was until she had bumped into an Eastern locomotive in Edinburgh, who, like her, had become an outcast because of an unchangeable event that had filled him with guilt also.

“I… I’m sorry, Kathy, I just…” he stammered, trying to think of a way to explain himself, but it was hopeless. “I don’t have an excuse… I was just wallowing in pity… I thought nobody would want anything to do with me…”

“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous,” she sighed, her tone softening a little. “Northern, we’ve both been through some crap things, we’ve both made mistakes, but… I can’t have you shutting me out over an accident that gave you a few physical scars. Because if you do that… then you’re a hypocrite. You told me never to worry about what I look like. It’s what on the inside that counts, right?”

“I suppose,” he muttered, still looking quite miserable. “But I’m quite rotten on the inside, too…”

“Nonsense,” Kathy replied sternly. “You’re letting the comments of the other engines around here get to you.”

“Maybe they’re right,” Northern said quietly, his eyes fixated on the ground again. “Maybe I am nothing more than a traitor to Sir Nigel Gresley…”

Kathy’s frown only deepened at those words. “That would only be ever so slightly true if you chose to be rebuilt as a Thompson engine. And you didn’t, did you?”

“No…”

“So you are no traitor.”

“I suppose not.”

“Well, there you go, then. There’s nothing rotten about you,” Kathy said with a small smile, backing up a little and encouraging him to follow her. After a little hesitation he finally moved a little, waiting as she turned around before following her out to the yard. Several Gresley locomotives were already there, and as soon as they saw Great Northern, the whispers and comments started, although they soon shut up by an icy glare from the Duchess.

“Hey, there he is!” Vi, a mixed traffic engine who was good friends with Northern, rolled forward, greeting the two with a friendly whistle. Mallard was not far behind her, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Well, you got him out. I’m impressed,” he said, giving Kathy a small smile before turning his gaze to Northern.

“I’m very persuasive,” she replied with a chuckle.

“That you are, dear,” said the engine next to her, managing a smile of his own.

“Yay, there’s my handsome man!” She chuckled as Northern blushed a little, much to the amusement of both herself and the two Gresleys in front of them. “Now, no more sad face, okay?”

“I’ll try,” he replied. “Hey, uh, are you going to be at Polmadie next Tuesday night?”

“I believe so, why?”

“I’m taking a passenger train up to Edinburgh that day. I can come and visit, if you want me to,” Northern suggested, his cheeks still a little flushed.

“Oh, I’d love that! We can have a proper catch up then!” she exclaimed happily.

“You not staying the night, Kathy?” Vi asked, smirking at Northern. “I think our resident lover-boy here needs some attention, and probably a pep talk.”

“Oh, well… I do have a train to pull tomorrow, but I suppose I could stay a little while,” she replied, beaming at Northern whose face only just turned more red.

“Awesome! Well, in that case, Mally and I will give you two a bit of privacy. Don’t have too much fun without us!” Vi giggled, whistling as she reversed away.

“Yeah, goodnight lovebirds!” Mallard exclaimed.

“’Night, Ducky!” Great Northern replied, chuckling at the unamused frown Mallard pulled at him as he and Kathy headed back to the shed, sighing as he settled down with her next to him. “…Thanks for coming.”

“Well, I needed to get some answers. I’m sorry about the accident, dear,” she whispered, giving him a sad smile.

“Well, it wasn’t your fault,” he sighed. “I just need to be more careful…”

“Yes, yes you do… Now then, I want you to promise me something…”

“Yes…?”

“Please don’t leave me in the dark again,” she asked. “I honestly thought for a moment that we were… well, you didn’t want us to be together anymore.”

“Oh Kathy, of course I do. I love you,” Northern whispered. “And I really am sorry. I just shut down completely when something bad happens. The last time was when I was rebuilt. The only thing that snapped me out of it then was when I met you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

The Duchess smiled and blushed a little at that. “You know, if it weren’t for you making me better, I would never have believed that statement,” she said quietly. “You were the best thing to happen to me, too, and I… I don’t want to lose you. Now, promise me you won’t shut me out again.”

“I promise. I don’t want to lose you, either. You made me unashamed to be who I am,” Northern said quietly, giving her a sad smile. “I’ll never hurt you like that again, Kathy.”

“I hope not. Because if you do, I’ll be back, and there’ll be some tender-whooping going on,” she sniggered.

“No! Not my beautiful tender!” Northern exclaimed in fake horror, making her laugh harder. The two continued to joke a little more before finally settling down, their firemen calming their fires for the night before heading off to leave the couple to it. They watched the stars for a while and chatted some more before eventually falling asleep, both finally being able to rest easily in each other’s company.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Edward Thompson: I have rebuilt Great Northern to be more efficient and reliable. 

Everyone else from the LNER: You fucked up a perfectly good engine is what you did. Look at him, he’s got anxiety.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Where do they keep the Emotional Support Ducklings? Do they have a home somewhere? (If you don’t have a place in mind, may I suggest a nice little house next to Mallard?)

A house next to Mallard sounds lovely. :)

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Truro: I just don’t like putting you in danger.

Scotsman: I laugh in the face of danger.

Truro: …

Scotsman: Then I hide until it goes away.

[talesofthenrm-deactivated201801]

Bittern: I was a young, beautiful girl filled with rage back then…

Bittern: Wait, I’m still filled with rage, and I’m still pretty hot. Get me a spear!