{ Call me Rusty, if you dare! } @that-steamer-rusty - Tumblr Blog

// OPEN RP ALERT!

A rather quiet half hour in the early morning passed, since the young steamer decided to recuperate in a secret clearing of the woods, which weren’t far from the trainyard. Normally Rusty doesn’t tend to do this so often. Though he figured incorporating some sense of change to his routines could be good for his mental being. So with that, the content engine continued to relax with an open book in his hands, as he sat by a slightly withered apple tree, within the peacefulness of the grove.

“’ey steam train!”

Flat-Top had been sent out of the freight yard for getting in another fight. Now sporting a rather impressive -and painful- black eye, he’d been wandering in the forest sulking, until he’d come across Rusty. Although the steamer wasn’t his favourite train, he was just about the only person other than Dustin who was genuinely friendly to him. So he’d approached him, coming up behind him and grabbing his shoulder in hopes of giving him a scare.

“Whatcha doing out ‘ere?”

Rusty’s concentration broke on cue with that grab, and he twitched letting out a startled “Ah!”. He knew this voice belonged to that certain scruffy brick truck who was getting his attention.

Why Flat-Top was wandering around at this hour, he didn’t have a clue. Rusty knew the truck never favored being the “early bird”, despite the expectation to get up early to prepare for each freight run. But when he turned to face Flat-Top’s questionably wounded state, his brown eyes widened with a mix of concern and minimal fear. So, maybe the freight’s damaged complexion explains part of why he’s out and about?

“F-Flat Top, how did you find me here?…And what happened to your eye?”, Rusty asked.

“Didn’t exactly go lookin’ for ya, just kinda… wandered aimlessly.” He explained, slowly swinging the chain attached to his favourite brick. “Only out here to avoid Poppa, I’d still be asleep if things went my way for a change. As for my eye… Rockies wanted to drag me outta bed, 3 decided grabbin’ Brick would be a great idea to get me up.” He snarled, his grip tightening protectively on his brick. He hated anyone touching it, especially actively trying to take it.

“It worked, I’ll give ‘im that… pissed me off though. 1 and 2 were trying to hold me back from ‘im, tellin’ me to chill out… and they kinda smashed my face off the doorframe. They said it was an accident, kept apologisin’, but Poppa decided it was all my fault. It ain’t fair, I didn’t do anythin’!” The short-tempered flatcar kicked, punched and even headbutted the closest tree, hoping to release some of his pent-up anger.

The steam engine, at that headbutt, sprung onto his wheels and backed away a little, not even aware the sudden physical intensity in Flat-Top’s attitude.

“F-first of all, Flat-Top, you…you clearly just found my secret rest-spot,” he said with a not-so stern tone.

Flat-Top finally settled down from his outburst, slumping down against the tree. “I told ya, I was just out walkin’. No offence, but coming out here was to kinda avoid everyone, you included.” He glanced over at the steamer, taking note of how nervous he seemed. He didn’t really blame him, the brick truck had never really been known for his good temper.

“M’just kinda mad at everything and everyone right now. Specifically Poppa, he never listens to me!”

“First of all, a-again, if you were planning to avoid me, then...then may-...”

Rusty pauses for almost past a second, debating on whether to dwell over what he thought was most important; It being the brick truck unaware of the center clearing as his own rest-spot. Yet given the subject Flat-Top was focusing on, the steamer wanted to let his interior whirl of anxiety be brushed off.

Shaking his head and waving a hand up, he replied stuttering, “N-never mind. Back to Poppa.” Rusty later scrunched a brow in thought. At least for Flat-Top, he wanted to focus on what was troubling the freight again and again. “So...you still think he doesn’t listen to you, even if he’s just getting...like, the context of your situations mixed up?”

“I never thought about how to handle real problems in adult life.”

It was around half an hour since the money truck persuaded Rusty to come to his place for the night. At first back then, he was uncertain about the persuasion because he figured Purse, plus the other components, still hated him. Especially apart from the fact that Electra hates him.

Yet considering the way Purse repeatedly insisted Rusty to come, the steam train was quite close to the conclusion that Purse might have gained a change of heart. So does that mean he was taking a liking to Rusty? Was Purse actually willing to get to know him more, but without the almighty electric in the way?

Well, in the previous thirty minutes, maybe the component’s unbelievably peppy and welcoming attitude was proving these assumptions right. Even from when he and the steamer proceeded to talk throughout this time. Maybe, if anything, Purse is willing to gladly befriend Rusty, regardless of anyone else’s opinions.

Either way, Rusty began to find this conversation with Purse to be…well, kind of pleasant. Enjoyable, even.

But when the money truck beated himself up with what he just said, the steam engine’s causally cheerful expression faltered to a look of confusion.

“What?…Purse, what do you mean?” the young steamer asked softly.

“You heard me.”

The money truck leant back in his seat, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted to spill one of his deepest secrets to a steamer, especially one he’d only recently become acquainted with, but… he didn’t feel like he could talk to the rest of his train about it.

“I never bothered to try and prepare for the future, I just… thought everyone would keep sorting things out for me. A-and I keep doing it, whenever I have to deal with something I just don’t, I get someone else to handle it. I’ve spent most of my life convincing everyone else to do everything for me.” He laughed uneasily, looking visibly upset. He was regretting bringing the subject up, this wasn’t Rusty’s issue, it was his.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.” Purse mumbled hurriedly, quickly blinking back any stray tears. He hadn’t realised he’d been so close to crying.

Rusty couldn’t believe what he heard disclosed from the money truck. In the steamer’s eyes, Purse used to be considered as the most tactic, faithful, “obediant servant” to Electra. Always in the know of everything he accomplishes, never giving up on duties expected to be done solo. Which all together made him a highly organized accountant and messenger. Yet when Purse broke the ice in front of the engine, Rusty didn’t know what to think. All he could to first, right away, was to console Purse from his stifled tears.

Purse really didn’t need to cry. He just didn’t. The steam train may be younger than the electric, but he could immediately relate to….all of what Purse had been through. Well known superstars are more than how they are on the outside.

Rusty swiftly sprang up from the sofa across from Purse, settling himself in another chair next to the money truck. “N-no! No….Purse it’s fine. Y-….you don’t have to apologize…” He replied startled at first, but then in a reassuring manner. “Are you crying?…You know you don’t have to cry also. Right?”

Purse just shrugged helplessly, desperately holding back tears. He felt utterly humiliated to be showing such weakness to the steamer, but he didn’t seem able to stop. He hated admitting his flaws, he found it incredibly embarrassing.

“I- I should be better than this..! I shouldn’t be so scared to deal with issues, even little ones.. but I can’t, I just panic and someone comes rushing to help me. That’s my job! I’m meant to be helping my engine, not the other way round!”

The money truck had quite a warped perception of things, he’d never realised it was okay for an engine to help a truck with something. But he was so distressed he wasn’t able to calm down and see that it was okay to be given help.

“Purse, you are meant to help out! Really, you are. I-I know I haven’t seen you doing your job for real. But I’m sure you’ve…always been good at fulfilling Electra’s needs. And…you wanna know how else I see this?” Rusty said, then asked later on.

“Oh sure, in public I can do my job just fine. Half my work is just standing next to Electra and looking pretty, we have to keep up a good rep for his publicity.” He took in a shaky breath, still focusing on not breaking down. His mood had been unusually low lately, and he was feeling emotional now that he was finally admitted his insecurities.

“Sometimes I feel like that’s all I’m good at… standing there and looking pretty.” Purse knew he shouldn’t be so self-depreciating, but he hadn’t been feeling his best lately.

“Right. But…why not realize you’re great at more than just being pretty? Like…try to wrap your mind around this. Just for a second: There is a megaton of things you should be proud you’re good at, apart from maintaining your reputation. Heck, Even if Electra’s the one who makes you see things differently, like you implied…Yeah?” Rusty said with a small, yet reassuring smile at Purse.

It was clear no one can stop the need of Electra & Company to stand out in the crowd. Yet from what the empathetic steam engine sensed in the money truck, he wanted to help him at least…try and recognize the true side of himself. Purse can continue to look his best all he wants, but Rusty wholeheartedly hoped the component can learn to accept himself.

He needs to.

“Like what?”

Rusty had piqued the money truck’s curiosity now. Usually he wouldn’t have any problems bragging about himself, but with his self-esteem as it was currently he had no interest in talking about himself positively.

Secretly he appreciated the steamer’s efforts to cheer him up. All the trains in this yard seemed very kind, but… Rusty even more so. He seemed determined to get Purse thinking positively, and he admired that.

“D’Aw! Come on, Purse! I take it you already know perfectly well. Go on and name them,” the steamer implored of the money truck.

“O-oh, well um… I’m good with money I guess, both literally and figuratively.” A faint smile flickered across his features for a moment. He was quite pleased with his financial skills, even if it was a standard talent for all money trucks.

“And Electra likes me a lot, so do the other components… I hope at least.” He paused for a moment, unsure if he should say what he was thinking. Given how rude and cold he had been to the steamer in the past, he was surprised at Rusty’s friendliness towards him.

“And… you like me, I think.”

“The starlight with it I do!” an ecstatic Rusty confirmed with a light chuckle. “I mean…you’re the one who made me realize there’s more to you than what I used to think…You know?…That you were the kind of stuck-up, carless and…cold-hearted being around me. But…Purse, didn’t you even notice all that’s past me now? Today you went out of your way to make everything up to me. You opened yourself up with who you truly are…Quite literally…"

“Truthfully, most of it was a publicity thing.” Purse admitted, a little embarrassed by how he’d been acting, “If we were acting all buddy-buddy with the competition it could have drive away potential investors for electric, not that they really matter anymore.”

“But… despite how me and my train have treated you, you still want to be nice to me. Steamers are better than I thought.” He smiled slightly, a little surprised at himself. He’d always had quite a closed mindset, it felt good to open up a bit

Waves of confusion flew through Rusty’s mind over Purse’s last words.

“Better than he thought”, he said. Could this mean the money truck thought steamers were too rude of a pack to be around? Or reckless around other trains? Or supposedly anything else that’s the opposite to Rusty and his father’s resilient, headstrong, and kind-hearted natures?

“Oh…W-were there other things you viewed me as?…Like, apart from a ‘nobody’, and…’the slow one’, and whatnot?” asked Rusty with a look that turned blank on cue.

Purse’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d said. “Oh starlight, I’m sorry! I- I meant that as a compliment, I didn’t realise it sounded rude.”

His face flushed with embarrassment as he tried to explain himself. “I… grew up in a purely electric yard, I’d never actually met a steamer or even a diesel before I came here. Ever since I was little the engines kept telling me that… that steamers were disgusting, old-fashioned nusiances who didn’t belong on the railways. And I believed them.” The money truck sounded mortified, incredibly ashamed of his naivety.

“Don’t worry though, they had plenty to say about me being a truck,” he quickly added, as if it was a good thing.

“N-no. Purse. You still don’t have to apologize, firstly…” Rusty reassured the nervous money truck, waving his hands at him with minimal energy. Triggering Purse’s feelings out of nowhere was the last the steam train wanted to do. As little of a mistake as it was, he never meant to have things result into a misunderstanding between him and the electric. “I-I was just wondering at first, ‘cause I thought that…well, I thought maybe you could have had…different opinions compared how the others saw me.”

Purse nodded, still looking uncomfortable. “Unfortunately most of the engines at my old yard didn’t have very… kind opinions of anyone who wasn’t electric, or even a locomotive.” Even if Rusty assured him it was alright, he was still quite embarrassed by his previous mindset, and how gullible he’d been.

“…My mindset has been changing though.” He admitted. “I quite like you, Rusty. You aren’t like what the other engines said steam trains would be like.”

“Psh! ‘Tis on your yard then for a lack of….underdogs who turn out as ‘somebodys’ in the end. That’s for sure…!” replied the steamer playfully, with a small, flattered smile that grew. “And I’m…c-come to think of it, I’m glad you were beginning to like me. It means a lot coming from you…” added Rusty, who was now finding himself in a more comfortable position with the money truck.

His flattered smile sustains for a moment in thought, looking down at his thighs to hide his face that may or may not be blushing.

Shortly after the race commotions, nothing like this moment of reconciling came into view until now. Yes, Rusty was aware of the currently mixed terms between him and the electric superstar. But even so, he never knew one of his trusted wing-cars would go out of their way to set the score, once and for all; Then transition into wanting to get to know the steam train more, as a potential new friend.

So much to what dawned on him, Rusty’s pondering thoughts about this visit were proven right. This ever so complex component was taking a liking to him.

“Oh please, you’re glad a little old truck like me likes you?” Purse was significantly more humble without Electra around, possibly even bordering on self-depreciating. The electric had always boosted Purse’s self-esteem, so without him there to do so the money truck because more willing to degrade himself.

“Even after what I did during the races? If it weren’t for me, Pearl would’ve raced with you and you wouldn’t have had any problems.” Purse really did like Rusty, he just wasn’t sure if Rusty should like him. He’d never exactly been kind to the steamer, most of their previous encounters had involved Purse directing rude, snobbish and downright cruel statements at him. Although he wanted them to be friends, why was Rusty reciprocating?

“Yeah, that’s true. But…..” Little moments passed before Rusty could finish his sentence. Yet he sighed at the thought of a certain circumstance he wished wouldn’t’ve happened. “…that wouldn’t be any different, if you and your crew didn’t barge in for a late entry. ’Cause if anything…Pearl would’ve grown interested in racing with…him instead of me,” the engine said in his contemplative manner.

“Him?” Purse looked confused, tilting his head to the side slightly. His eyes widened slightly as he realised who Rusty was talking about. “Right, him. But how do you know Pearl wouldn’t have raced with you? Sure, she went off with Greaseball for the final, but everything going on then was due to his rivalry with my engine. Hadn’t she agreed to race with you?”

“S-she did, but…b-but…”

It was obvious the steamer paused, once again, because the money truck’s thoughts had now led him to an uncertain place. From looking back at the championships, Rusty did understand that motive behind why Pearl ended up racing with the tall diesel. Then again, it wasn’t as if his carriage was forgetful of Greaseball’s “knockin’” greatness before the final heats.

There was an awkward split second that went by, as Rusty briefly debated over continuing what he was saying. The engine never wanted this talk with Purse to go downhill. He didn’t want to be alright with saying nothing else, simply like the meek idiot he felt like he was becoming again. Needless to say, the steam train found himself now stuck in how to patch things up.

Purse waited, watching the steamer passively. “We can change the subject if you like.” He assured him, looking surprisingly sympathetic. Whilst personally the money truck desperately wanted as many details as he could about the love drama that had gone down during the races, he could tell it wasn’t a particularly happy subject for Rusty.

“What’s racing like?” He asked, trying the steer the conversation onto a more positive path. “Joule says it’s really exciting, but Electra’s never taken me in a competition.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Purse was embarrassed to admit the truth.

“How about we ge-…Meh. Never mind, I guess,” Rusty said in a somewhat witty fashion, shifting position back to Purse again, and ending his little “announcement” with a shrug.

“I mean, you are curious to know those other details…” said the steamer with a smug smile.

Purse blushed, looked a little embarrassed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He teased, smiling slightly.

“I could be after details about racing, or your little love triangle. Or love square, I suppose, you did have two romantic rivals after all.”

The steamer let out a playfull scoff at Purse’s comment. “Errr...I think you know what I’m talking about ya ditz...!” He said jokingly from the corner of his mouth, around a small fit of chuckles.

taggedmemes

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ THE GOOD PLACE / 3.09 –– 3.11 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

“Some people are saying you live a pretty interesting life out here.”

“We would love to do a human interest story about you.”

“I saw with perfect clarity how the afterlife worked.”

“For a celebrity, he’s amazingly down to earth.”

“We have to learn everything we can about what makes him tick so we can use it to help others.”

“One man’s waste is another man’s water.”

“All he consumes are lentils and radishes.”

“When is the right time to tell someone you were passionate loves in an alternate timeline in the afterlife but they don’t remember because technically none of that happened in this strand of the multi-verse?”

“I’m flattered you would seek my advice.”

“It may be painful, but it’s never a bad idea to tell someone how you feel.”

“You’ve rescued every stray animal that’s every wandered onto your property?”

“A happiness pump is someone who is obsessed with maximizing the overall good at their expense.”

“He’ll do literally anything to make other people happy even if it makes him miserable.”

“Forgetting someone’s name has most definitely lost me some points.”

“Do you know anything about snail first aid?”

“I either know exactly what I’m doing and it’s something, or we’re doing nothing and I’m winning.”

“This bar is full of demons.”

“Just because these people are wearing cheap leather and stone-washed denim doesn’t make them demons.”

“I have never met anyone so dedicated to making other people happy.”

“I love seeing the look on people’s faces.”

“Is it just me, or is [name] a straight up hottie right now?”

“How are you this close to being dragged to hell and still horny?”

“We were in love, and there’s a real possibility that I’m in love with you again.”

“Evidence isn’t a good thing that you want. It’s a bad thing that you have to destroy or you go to jail.”

“If I had a heart, it would be pounding.”

“In turn, it’s made you an inter-dimensional fugitive.”

“You can’t start randomly conjuring up items.”

“It might make everything blow up and we’ll all disappear forever.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

“99% of all new human behaviors are weird sex things.”

“Just because you don’t remember doing something doesn’t mean you didn’t do it.”

“You’re just barfing Wikipedia all over everyone to avoid talking about your feelings.”

“We’re just a bundle of our ever-changing impressions.”

“You’re embarrassed you fell in love with a trash bag.”

“What am I even doing? I’m chasing a dude who isn’t into me.”

“I don’t feel like myself for two seconds, and it breaks the universe?”

“Freaking out about everything is my identity, not to brag.”

“I’m beginning to resent your tone.”

“You’re the only one who can fix whatever’s wrong.”

“You once called me a human snooze button.”

“Did you mean everything you said, or did you just say that because the world was ending?”

“I need you to volunteer to do something outrageously insane that will either make you cease to exist or be really fun.”

“If you break enough stuff, that open the door and kick you out.”

“Before you throw any other lamps, you have anything you want to talk about?”

“It’s an insane situation, but I’m right here with you.”

“You seem thoughtful and it concerns me.”

“You saw that? That’s so embarrassing.”

“Be clear, be confident, and don’t let them intimidate you.”

“You still want to go out with me after I just showed you my anxiety sweats?”

“All of these emotions I’m feeling are about to burst out of me, which might be super embarrassing.”

“I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”

“Oh, no, you’re crying. I assume it’s because you’re happy or horny.”

“I’m crying because I’m miserable and it’s all your fault.”

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and I blame you.”

“I can tell by your silence and the inability to make eye contact with me that I’ve knocked it out of the park.”

“That’s a really weird incentive to keep crying.’

“I’m trying to help them navigate some very complex feelings, but everything I do makes it worse.”

“There are so many unintended consequences to well-intentioned actions.”

“Every day the world gets a little more complicated and being a good person gets a little harder.”

“I’ve never been suspicious of anyone, but I think that’s about to change.”

“I never thought about how to handle real problems in adult life.”

Either way, Rusty began to find this conversation with Purse to be…well, kind of pleasant. Enjoyable, even.

But when the money truck beated himself up with what he just said, the steam engine’s causally cheerful expression faltered to a look of confusion.

“What?…Purse, what do you mean?” the young steamer asked softly.

“You heard me.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.” Purse mumbled hurriedly, quickly blinking back any stray tears. He hadn’t realised he’d been so close to crying.

“Sometimes I feel like that’s all I’m good at… standing there and looking pretty.” Purse knew he shouldn’t be so self-depreciating, but he hadn’t been feeling his best lately.

He needs to.

“Like what?”

“D’Aw! Come on, Purse! I take it you already know perfectly well. Go on and name them,” the steamer implored of the money truck.

“And… you like me, I think.”

Waves of confusion flew through Rusty’s mind over Purse’s last words.

“Oh…W-were there other things you viewed me as?…Like, apart from a ‘nobody’, and…’the slow one’, and whatnot?” asked Rusty with a look that turned blank on cue.

Purse’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d said. “Oh starlight, I’m sorry! I- I meant that as a compliment, I didn’t realise it sounded rude.”

“Don’t worry though, they had plenty to say about me being a truck,” he quickly added, as if it was a good thing.

“…My mindset has been changing though.” He admitted. “I quite like you, Rusty. You aren’t like what the other engines said steam trains would be like.”

His flattered smile sustains for a moment in thought, looking down at his thighs to hide his face that may or may not be blushing.

So much to what dawned on him, Rusty’s pondering thoughts about this visit were proven right. This ever so complex component was taking a liking to him.

“S-she did, but…b-but…”

“How about we ge-...Meh. Never mind, I guess,” Rusty said in a somewhat witty fashion, shifting position back to Purse again, and ending his little “announcement” with a shrug.

“I mean, you are curious to know those other details...” said the steamer with a smug smile.

“I just wanna sit here and feed my birds.”

The steam engine stared at Greaseball with an immediate look of confusion. Earlier in the hour, he was sent over to the diesel’s place to usher him over to Control’s office. For some unthinkable reason, Rusty didn’t know why he was ordered by the big “boss man” to do so. Though given the two days that passed since Rusty won the championships, maybe Control planned to assign a sort of consequence against Greaseball. Right after all he instigated throughout those ever-so hunky-dory, traumatic races.

But for now, that was a story to be referred back to again later. “Wha-?…Birds?…You have birds?”, the steamer asked.

greaseball-and-dinah

The big diesel nodded eagerly, pointing to a few feet away where a flock of tiny, brown birds were pecking at a pile of seed scattered on the ground. “They’re called song sparrows. Cute, ain’t they?” He smiled, a genuine, happy smile, unlike the cruel ones that could be seen whenever he and his gang were terrorising Rusty. “Saw a couple of ‘em flyin’ about a few weeks ago, I’d never seen one before. Dinah told me what they were, so I chucked some food out to see if they’d show up again. And now I got a whole flock of ‘em!”

“Well, kinda. They’re still wild, they just come by to eat. But Dinah got me some birdboxes to see if we get some babies.” He gestured to several bright blue birdboxes above him on the wall. “Some of ‘em have tried to come near me, but I don’t let ‘em. I’m too big for ‘em, it’s dangerous.” He visibly flinched, remembering a particularly upsetting outcome of one of those attempts.

Rusty looked at the far-off sparrow huddle, chuckling and grining in awe at the sight. “Heheh…Yeah, they don’t seem that bad…C-can I-?”

The steamer paused, on the verge of coming up to the small birds to greet them. But backed away slightly, realizing the reality of meeting literally any bird for the first time. “Nevermind. Maybe I shouldn’t get ‘up close and personal’ with them…Heh…They’d be scrambling off if I did,” the steamer said with a smug, but sheepish expression, ending his remark with a small shrug.

greaseball-and-dinah

Greaseball offered a small bag of seeds to the steamer. “Try that. Go real slow, and not right into the middle of the flock. Let them come to you, just be patient with ’em.”

He leant back, keeping his eyes focused on the flock. “I think they are startin’ to settle now. Seen ’em bringing stuff into the boxes, I think a few are startin’ to build nests. Means there’s gonna be babies!”

A somewhat gushy Rusty gasped a little, at the mention of the forthcoming babies.

“Really?” he asked, facing the diesel again with enlightened eyes.

“I just wanna sit here and feed my birds.”

But for now, that was a story to be referred back to again later. “Wha-?...Birds?...You have birds?”, the steamer asked.

greaseball-and-dinah

Rusty looked at the far-off sparrow huddle, chuckling and grining in awe at the sight. “Heheh...Yeah, they don’t seem that bad...C-can I-?”

The steamer paused, on the verge of coming up to the small birds to greet them. But backed away slightly, realizing the reality of meeting literally any bird for the first time. “Nevermind. Maybe I shouldn’t get ‘up close and personal’ with them...Heh...They’d be scrambling off if I did,” the steamer said with a smug, but sheepish expression, ending his remark with a small shrug.

// OPEN RP ALERT!

“’ey steam train!”

“Whatcha doing out ‘ere?”

Rusty’s concentration broke on cue with that grab, and he twitched letting out a startled “Ah!”. He knew this voice belonged to that certain scruffy brick truck who was getting his attention.

“F-Flat Top, how did you find me here?…And what happened to your eye?”, Rusty asked.

The steam engine, at that headbutt, sprung onto his wheels and backed away a little, not even aware the sudden physical intensity in Flat-Top’s attitude.

“F-first of all, Flat-Top, you...you clearly just found my secret rest-spot,” he said with a not-so stern tone.

“I never thought about how to handle real problems in adult life.”

Either way, Rusty began to find this conversation with Purse to be…well, kind of pleasant. Enjoyable, even.

But when the money truck beated himself up with what he just said, the steam engine’s causally cheerful expression faltered to a look of confusion.

“What?…Purse, what do you mean?” the young steamer asked softly.

“You heard me.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.” Purse mumbled hurriedly, quickly blinking back any stray tears. He hadn’t realised he’d been so close to crying.

“Sometimes I feel like that’s all I’m good at… standing there and looking pretty.” Purse knew he shouldn’t be so self-depreciating, but he hadn’t been feeling his best lately.

He needs to.

“Like what?”

“D’Aw! Come on, Purse! I take it you already know perfectly well. Go on and name them,” the steamer implored of the money truck.

“And… you like me, I think.”

Waves of confusion flew through Rusty’s mind over Purse’s last words.

“Oh…W-were there other things you viewed me as?…Like, apart from a ‘nobody’, and…’the slow one’, and whatnot?” asked Rusty with a look that turned blank on cue.

Purse’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d said. “Oh starlight, I’m sorry! I- I meant that as a compliment, I didn’t realise it sounded rude.”

“Don’t worry though, they had plenty to say about me being a truck,” he quickly added, as if it was a good thing.

“…My mindset has been changing though.” He admitted. “I quite like you, Rusty. You aren’t like what the other engines said steam trains would be like.”

#(( might be a bit sloppy but here's my best take! ))#He Is The Starlight #ft. greaseball

His flattered smile sustains for a moment in thought, looking down at his thighs to hide his face that may or may not be blushing.

So much to what dawned on him, Rusty’s pondering thoughts about this visit were proven right. This ever so complex component was taking a liking to him.

“S-she did, but…b-but…”

// OOC UPDATE! PLEASE READ:

(( Hi again, all. Yes, I know it’s the 1,000th time I’m being apologetic on my own RP handles. But some of you, as my current RP partners, might be wondering why I didn’t get back to our current threads sooner again.

I just got into a new summer course, which means getting replies done faster may, or may not be a timely issue for me. So apologies to you, if my other absence kind of wasted your patience. I’m still able to get back to thread replies asap. But just bare in mind that I have personal things I need to handle sometimes, like my current college work. Thank you guys for your understanding!! :) ))

#admin psa

“I just wanna sit here and feed my birds.”

But for now, that was a story to be referred back to again later. “Wha-?...Birds?...You have birds?”, the steamer asked.

// OPEN RP ALERT!

“’ey steam train!”

“Whatcha doing out ‘ere?”

#He Is The Starlight #ft. flat-top #(( oh no worries. it looks great! keep it up! ;) ))

Rusty’s concentration broke on cue with that grab, and he twitched letting out a startled “Ah!”. He knew this voice belonged to that certain scruffy brick truck who was getting his attention.

“F-Flat Top, how did you find me here?...And what happened to your eye?”, Rusty asked.