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#ttte glynn
bruhstation · 3 months
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can't it even be more obvious thomas. why are you surprised that a sudrian historical site filled to the brim with armor and weaponry that dates back to the middle ages has old people afflicted with the gold dust working around the castle
#thomas the tank engine#thomas and friends#ttte glynn#ttte millie#ttte stephen#casa tidmouth#senjart#MORE OF LADY'S EXPERIMENTS GONE WRONG#WHO UP ULFSTEADING THEIR CASTLE#stuff for the kotr arc of casa tidmouth. now this is where gold dust has historical significance#going crazy right now. my friends are influencing me#I had 12 tabs opened just to draw young glynn's armor. they dont have plated armory in the 10th century!!!! only mails!!!!!!#(looking at you KOTR intro)#I remember reading some inputs on my 1k milestone poll and saw someone put ''the misery of growing old'' and honestly. Checks out#glynn's eyes are goldish brown because well. that's the perks of being the first bearer of the gold dust horrors#lady during 989 AD do not know anything about human thoughts and ethics and emotions. she was literally freestyling that!!!!!#Oh a wounded soldier on the verge of death. what if I *dumps 200 kg of gold dust on him* yeah that'll do the trick.#then she saw how glynn aged so so slowly and went Oh well I messed up. Good thing there are lots of other sudrians here#funny coincidence that young cstm glynn's helmet resembles canon glynn's funnel#I wanted to make millie's design resemble a tour guide more with her scarf and more stylish than usual tie#shes so pretty. I'm so proud of her design#(AND I REALIZED TOO LATE THAT HER TIE HAS THE COLORS OF THE FRENCH FLAG)#<--- said the guy who has beef with the french#stephen's crown is translated to a hat decor! was about to draw a top hat but whatever just imagine he has a collection of various hats#that he can put his crown on#also I want to give him that cool hip-with-the-kids I-am-still-young-at-heart energy#sir robert norramby is balling in the background.#hope you enjoy..... won't be able to draw as much from now on but I'm excited#also whos ready for old man yaoi........... 2!!!!!!
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numartian · 2 months
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assorted thomy train gijinka scribblings from earlier this month, my mind poisoned by teddy boy james
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bonus coffeerocket realness
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b1anketplask · 2 months
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Yay Glynn and Eddie lore!!
Glynn was mentor and father to Edward (Just like Edward and Thomas) However, Glynn has been missing him for a long time, and Eddie haven't seen him for a long time as well.. and they find each other after long time.
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ttte-yurishica · 3 months
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Just watched "Over the hill"
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I love them sm
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hkpika07 · 1 year
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Family Found
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str33tydr1ft · 2 months
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Ok so we have 2 old men
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Right
You cant forget their trans son
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Also sonny fits as their adopted son bc like look
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IT FITS TBH-
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Isle of Engines Part 16
Ft @dieselstooyou @jayde-jots
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Each one of them attempting to break through the wall
V View more in reblogs
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sudriantraveler · 6 months
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The Flying Coffee Pot - Traintober Day 22: Top Hat
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Mr. Hatt stood on the open footplate with one hand on the controls, and another holding onto his top hat.
He opened the regulator wide, and Glynn responded with a whim, charging forwards with the trucks banging and clattering behind him.
“Oh-Oh-Oh!” screamed the trucks.
“Come-On-Come-On-Come-On!” roared Glynn as he surged along the line.
Smoke poured from the Coffee Pot’s funnel, darkening the once clear blue sky.
The noise echoed everywhere.
Trees rustled as flocks of birds took flight in panic from their branches.
Horses twitched up their tails and bolted away in terror from the lineside.
An old woman shook her fist at the speeding, smoking beast, as soot and ash rained down over her clothes line.
All the while Mr. Hatt stared straight ahead, a look of fierce determination in his eyes and a wide grin crossing his face.
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thebunnylord · 3 months
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Luke: oh hi Millie, hi Glynn, hi Stephen.
Stephen: *is dressed up in a suit of armor and holding a jousting pole while charging forward on his mobility scooter* CHARGE!!
Glynn: *is also dressed in a suit of armor and pointing a jousting pole at Stephen while charging forward on his mobility scooter* CHARGE!!
Luke: … um… Millie? What-
Millie: they got bored so they challenged each other to a jousting tournament.
Luke: oh, interesting! Who’s winning?
Millie: this is only the first round.
Luke: huh?
The mobility scooters: *are moving at half a millimeter per an hour*
Millie: they started the tournament three hours ago.
Stephen: *is barely an inch from the starting line* I WILL NOT BACK DOWN!!
Glynn: *is also barely an inch from the starting line* FOR THE KING!!
Millie: this might take a few days…
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tornadoyoungiron · 2 months
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youtube
The Rocket - Stephenson's Rocket Replica at Locomotion
Tom Scott also did a video on it explaining how it works and how it has no brakes.
Imagine Stephen just puffing around with no brakes and only a reverser to stop himself.
✨️Chaos✨️
He'd love it.
youtube
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bruhstation · 3 months
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you know how it is with this blog and old men 🙄
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hazel-of-sodor · 5 months
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Tasha was not the first No.1 on the Tramway. In the first days of the Tidmouth Knapford & Elsbridge Tramway, a makeshift engine was built from a portable steam engine and a wagon chassis to help build the line.
No.1 Glynn was meant to be temporary. The boiler used was already 20 years old when the engine was built, it was loosely mounted, and the rest of the engine was whatever spare parts could be found at the time. The engine was top heavy, and was restricted to 4-5mph to keep it from tipping over. The belt connecting its flywheel to the driving axle didn't fit properly and slipped often due to it being a random spare part rather than purpose made. The engine also proved too tall to pass the first tunnel, as the railways planned tunnel clearence had proven too ambitious and had been reduced.
No.1's expected service time was number in months, maybe years counted on one hand if it was lucky. No.1 was lucky indeed. Built some time between the closing days of 1881 and the dawning days of 1882, No.1 would keep its original form to late 1885, when purpose built coffee pots No.2 and No.3 had entered service. However it didn't leave service to be dismatled or scrapped, instead it went in for rebuild to prepare it for permanent service. The traffic load for the fledgling railway was greater than expected, and managment realized they needed a spare engine in the heavy season, and rebuilding No.1 was their cheapest option, and would raise morale as the crews had become fond of the little iron beast.
As Summer gave way to Autumn and the traffic lessened, No.1 entered the works. The old wagon chassis was dismantled, and modified into proper locomotive chassis, although how much of the new frames were original was highly debatable. The boiler was overhauled and retubed before being reaffixed to the frames. The boiler was not only more secruly mounted, but seated much lower, solving the engines stability issues. The new lower boiler mounting also reduced the engines overall height, allowing it to finally pass through the tunnels to the rest of the tramway beyond. Finally, a new, purpose made drive belt gave the engine the ability to pull with its full strength for the first time.
By all accounts the rebuild was a success, and No.1 banking trains up the mountain grades or shunting in the yards bacame a commom sight on the TK&ER.
No.1 Glynn would serve over 30 years, but by time of the TK&ER's was forced to become part of the new North Western Railway in 1915, the engine was well and truly clapped out. When No.5 was purchased late in that year, No.5 was taken to the newly built Crovan's Gates Works to determine its fate. The results were grim. While the Chassis was reusuable, little else was, with some parts coming apart when in the workmen's hand when they tried to remove them. The works quickly claimed the chassis to use in building their new works shunter, but the question of what to do with the rest of the engine remained. Tnesion already heightened by the TK&ER forced absorbtion by the NWR skyrocketed when rumors spread the engine was to be scrapped. Most local historians and first hand accounts agree that only the fact the country was at war prevented a strike from occuring.
Eager to gain good will with the former TK&ER, the NWR annonced the surviving componets would be combined with a new makeshift chassis and donated to the Tidmouth Musuem for static display and preservation. The new works shunter Tasha shunted Glynn into place in early 1916, in what was by wartime standards a lavish ceromony, and the NWR used the opertunity to pass the No.1 to the new shunter, in recognition that Tasha's chassis orginal belonged to Glynn.
In the present day No.1 Glynn is still one of the musuems prized items, and is well taken care of. Decades of careful restoration work have allowed the engine to be moved once again, and once every blue moon the engine is allowed to steam (albeit at low pressure) for important events, such as the 100th annivery of the Line's construction.
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weirdowithaquill · 7 months
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Traintober 2023: Day 11 - Roundhouse
Edward Doesn't Like Tidmouth Sheds:
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Tidmouth Sheds sat in an interesting spot; considering the yards at the Big Station. It sat just on one side of the mainline, a giant brick structure that held a number of tracks. On the other side of the shed, a retaining wall used the sheds as a base to expand almost up to the Big Station, as well as in the other direction. Behind the sheds themselves was the crew breakroom, then the Tidmouth Sheds community garden and the carpark. And in front of it was a mess of tracks, with refuelling facilities on one side, the yards across the mainline and the Big Station right ahead.
Even more curious was the design of the shed. Originally a small shed built for the joint Tidmouth, Wellsworth, and Suddery Railway in 1912; a small, brick building meant to hold four engines at most. It had been rebuilt several times, gaining a turntable outside at one point, a six-row brick shed at another, and then most recently the roundhouse itself, bringing the turntable inside and away from the high winds of the Irish Sea.
Edward didn’t like Tidmouth Sheds all that much. He spent every night he could at other sheds – at Wellsworth, or at Brendam – but sometimes it just couldn’t be avoided.
“Good evening, Edward,” chirped Duck one brisk evening. “How’ve you been?” “Not too bad, Duck,” replied Edward politely. “Though the rain has made things difficult.” Duck agreed.
“There’s going to be a fog rolling in soon,” the Pannier observed. Edward winced, but said nothing. Instead, he gazed through the sheds to the six ‘original’ berths. They still existed – two led onto the turntable, while four kept their buffers, acting as extra space for visiting engines – with the one on the furthest edge closest to the city being the diesel refuelling and cleaning berth. It was a clever arrangement – sometimes Percy or Thomas slept on one of those older berths when they brought in a late train, or a visitor would sidle up into one of the extra spaces to rest in out of the wind and cold.
“That rain won’t let up!” snorted Henry, steaming into the sheds. “And a fog is settling in too – tonight is going to be grim for any engine who can’t get out of the elements.” Edward couldn’t help but disagree.
One by one, the engines all arrived back in the sheds. They settled into their spaces, all resting around the turntable with Edward sat between Duck and Henry. The engines chattered for a bit – about annoying passengers, difficult trucks, the weather, and about the latest gossip. Edward didn’t contribute much.
Duck fell asleep first, snoring quietly as he let his tiredness take him. Then Bear, then Donald and Douglas – without whom Oliver became bored and fell asleep – after which Henry would yawn and say goodnight, leading the others to do the same. James was the last to fall asleep, almost as if making it a point to close his eyes after Gordon.
Still, Edward stayed awake, waiting quietly.
That was when the outside shed door creaked open. The fog seemed to billow in with every inch that that door crept open, groaning on its hinges. There was a hiss of steam, and then a low grinding sound, of metal parts scraping against one another. A little engine eased into the shed, eyes red as its paint.
“Glynn,” whispered Edward. The engine did not reply – it did not seem to even notice Edward. Instead, the engine came to a rest in the extra berth closest to the mainline. Sparks began to light up the foggy sheds, as did low whimpers and gasps.
“No… no… please… I’m still useful… where is Topham… he would never… no… get away… please…” Edward felt like crying, unable to fall asleep; cursed to watch as little Glynn grew smaller and smaller, parts vanishing off him into the mist. “Sir Topham’s on the Mainland right now,” a second voice said. This voice was grimy – it sounded as though it came from a smarmy individual just from the way it pronounced its words. The voice seemed to revel in Glynn’s pleas, egging them on and tormenting the poor soul.
Finally, the eyes flickered over to Edward. “Why?” they whispered. “Why didn’t you help me?”
And then, the little engine was gone, leaving behind a glowing pair of red eyes. The eyes backed out of the shed; the door squeaked as it groaned closed.
Edward did not sleep that night.
***
There is one thing I forgot to mention about Tidmouth Sheds. In 1924, the sheds were used to cut up one of the old Coffee Pot engines from the Knapford, Tidmouth and Elsbridge Light Railway. None of the other engines knew – they’d lived at Vicarstown, and had only known there to be two of the odd-looking engines.
But Edward knew. Edward had been unfortunate enough to bring a train down to the harbour by the sheds on a cold, foggy night. He’d had to sleep in Tidmouth Sheds. He’d had to sit in the sheds as the last pieces of Glynn were taken apart by the smarmy man and his gang of brutes – he’d had to endure being unable to help.
Edward had feared being next.
Now, the old blue engine avoids Tidmouth Sheds. Whenever he can, he stays on his branchline, far away from the ghost who haunts his mind and his past. He doesn’t tell anyone either. Who would believe him? And what would they do? So, Edward bears the weight of the knowledge that he alone possesses; at least, until now.
Back to Master Post
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ttte-yurishica · 3 months
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I know I have strange associations
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hkpika07 · 1 year
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The First Four
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eosr-by-muxse · 4 months
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One or the Other
April 1925
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Word Count: +9,110
An experimental rebuild of his class has arrived on the Island of Sodor, bought by the North Western Railway. He wonders if he'll fit in just fine with the other engines as problems begin to rise.
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The sun was setting within the horizon, tucked behind the ocean. All of the engines at Barrow-in-Furness had returned to their sheds, except for two.
While both engines were classified as Lancashire and Yorkshire Class 28s, the only two of their class with Hughes Twin Plug superheaters and Belpaire fireboxes, they were quite different. One of them was an original Class 28, no modifications on them were found. The other was a rebuild, an experimental rebuild specifically. After a year of trial, he was deemed as a failed experiment.
Today was one of his last days before heading to the Island of Sodor, to the railway he was sold to.
"You're gonna love it when you get to Sodor!" chimed the smaller engine, as she noted her younger brother's mood. "It's lovely, I promise you."
The rebuilt engine let out a high-pitched wheesh. He hummed. "But you said that the engines there were straight-up sinister," he remarked.
His sister chuckled. "I meant the other engines on trial. Though two of the five were quite mean, I would ignore them if I were you, little brother."
"I'm much bigger than you!" he huffed. "...but, what about the others?"
"Oh, they're quite pleasant," she noted. "Though one of them might not be there anymore." She looked down. "There was an engine who sat in one of the sheds all the time. He barely went out."
"So he could've been…" James gulped a heavy cloud of steam, which slowly backed up his pipes. "Scrapped?" He wheezed out.
"Mhm," hummed his sister. "Don't let it intimidate you. It's just how it goes."
He stayed quiet.
His sister sighed. "I'm sure you'll do great, and you'll fit in quite well."
"...And what about you?" he asked as he looked at his sister.
His sister looked down. "Oh, I'll still be here." She whistled before chuffing away. "Who knows. We might see each other here every now and then."
"Here? As in Barrow-in-Furness?"
"Mhm," she stopped. "There are a few engines who come over from Sodor to here. You might be one of them soon." With that, she left.
The younger engine smiled warmly as the engine, the only one he could truly consider to be family, left. He looked in the distance and could barely see it but it was there.
The Vicarstown Drawbridge was raised up as if reaching for the limitless sky. Once it was let down in the morning, he would leave, and when he crossed over, he would possibly never come back.
It was shortly after lunch as four engines were being fired up after a good hour break and a quick announcement from Sir Bertram Topham Hatt II, the director of the North Western Railway.
A grand blue tender engine named Gordon huffed. "Edward, you will give this railway a bad name, just by rolling up there."
Henry, a grand green tender engine right next to him, asked, "They could be reckless. It's better if one of us goes instead."
An emerald-green tender engine, Emily, gave them a quick glare before shifting her attention to Edward. "What do you think they'll be doing when they arrive?" she asked, in hopes of deviating from the negativity.
Edward, a blue medium-sized tender engine, looked at the two largest tender engines and smiled. He softly chuckled. "Ye're forgettin wha mentorit the both of ye," he said, then glanced at the emerald-green tender engine. "Emily, I'm sure it'll be fine. I've been seein more goods trains than usual sae thon's most likely what they'll be doin."
Emily hummed. "That's true."
Gordon huffed and Henry grunted.
"Noo, noo," said Edward. "Please be nice tae the newcomer. It would be rude of us not to."
Emily whistled but the other two said nothing.
Edward rolled his eyes. "Let's get tae work, now. I'll see ye around!" he exclaimed as he chuffed away, continuing to work in Tidmouth Yards.
Within a few days, Sir Topham Hatt II had a workman from Tidmouth pass a message to Edward's crew, Charlie Sands and Sidney Heaver.
"The new engine has arrived," he said. "He's at Crovan's Gate Works."
Without any haste, Edward had his tender refilled of coal and water before getting onto the Main Line and heading towards Crovan's Gate. He hummed along the way as he huffed and chuffed down the line.
The rebuilt engine nervously rolled to a stop right next to what appeared to be a factory or repair shop.
"Is this it?" he asked his driver hastily as he observed the large brick building. The massive brick building had tall windows that were quite dirty, making it difficult for the engine to look through. He was curious as to what was going on inside, huffing in frustration.
"This is the place," replied his driver, Fred Quill, as his fireman, George Turner, patted at the curious engine. Just a few minutes ago, the engine had been fuming and crying after a not-so-pleasant farewell. It's as if the events that had taken place the day before had never happened.
Just then, Sir Topham Hatt II approached him, followed by two men dressed in blue coats and blue slacks. He dressed appropriately as any other railway owner would, in a full tuxedo with a yellow vest.
The newcomer was a medium-sized tender engine of two leading wheels and six 5'6" driving wheels. His livery was matte black, except for his buffer beams. On his cab was his number, 12556, painted in yellow, the same yellow used for the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway logo on his tender. Unlike other engines, he had a three-chime brass whistle sitting on top of his domed boiler. Across his face, at eye level, was a black stripe, with the number 12556 in white.
The black medium-sized tender engine looked at the man with his heterochromatic eyes of rich brown and lush green.
"Hello there! You must be James!" Sir Topham Hatt II exclaimed with excitement.
The engine jolted, and quickly looked away from the building. His heterochromatic eyes landed sight on the stout gentleman. He was confused. "Who?"
The Fat Director nodded at him. "You, James," he replied.
"P-pardon?" he asked, confused and nervous. He avoided eye contact. "I-I think you have the wrong engine, sir. I don't have a name. My number is twelve-thousand-five hundred fifty-six or twelve-five fifty-six, sir."
"Then you are James," the director said. "I gave you that name. Do you like it?"
James was shocked. Flabbergasted, he looked down shyly. Eventually, he replied. "I do, sir. Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome. Where are my manners? Welcome to the North Western Railway. I am Sir Bertram Topham Hatt the Second, the director of this railway. I expect you to become of good use," said Sir Topham Hatt II.
"Of course, sir!"
"Marvelous!" Sir Topham Hatt II said before looking around. Suddenly, he exclaimed, "There you are!"
James looked in the direction that the director was looking in.
Up ahead, a cerulean blue tender engine rolled in and came to a stop on the track to his left. The other engine was medium-sized, like he was, though a bit smaller, and had four leading wheels and four driving wheels.
Sir Topham Hatt II glanced at the blue medium-sized tender engine, smiling at the warm presence the locomotive brought with him.
Edward smiled at the new engine.
The director looked at James. "You will be working with one of the railway's most hardworking engines." He looked back at Edward with pride before gesturing from him to James.
The blue engine gave a quick hum before rolling closer to James. "Hello thare. Ma name is Edward," he piped cheerfully, his Scottish accent being quite thick. "What's yers?"
"James," the black engine replied quickly. He was still nervous.
Edward smiled. With a quick fweep, fweep!, he exclaimed, "Welcome tae Sodor, James!"
"Edward will be your mentor, James," said the Fat Director, gesturing James to Edward. "You will be working with him at the shunting yards in Tidmouth. Edward will guide you there." He turned to the blue medium-sized tender engine. "Edward, please make sure James is in line with the others. Keep an eye on him."
"Aye, sir!" replied Edward.
James followed. "Yes, sir!"
"Alright then. On you go! I will be checking on your progress by the end of this week, James."
Once Edward was turned around, the engines left Crovan's Gate and headed for Tidmouth Yards.
"Are you Scottish?" James asked meekly. They hadn't gone far away from Crovan's Gate when the silence became loud and uncomfortable.
Edward hummed.
James perked up. "If n-not, I'm sorry!" he quickly exclaimed. "It's just your-" His stuttering began to crack into his voice.
"Accent?" Edward said, interrupting the nervous engine. He chuckled. "I wis built in Scotland."
"And what railway do you come from?"
"I canae remember," Edward replied.
"Oh."
It stayed silent again.
"Ur ye an LMS original engine?" Edward asked.
"No. I'm a Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway engine."
Edward slowed down. "Lancashire and Yorkshire?"
"Yes?" James eyed the engine suspiciously.
"We had two engines come over from thon railway back in nineteen-twenty-ane," Edward replied. He hummed. "I was shed mates wit ane but the other ane wis allocatit at yon old Vicarstown Sheds wit the other ladies." He shook his frame. "One wis an L&YR Class Nine and the other wis an L&YR Class Twenty-Eight."
"I know that Class Twenty-Eight engine!" James exclaimed.
His loud voice startled Edward. "Eh?"
"That was my sister, fifty-five!"
Edward stared at James.
"W-What?" James became nervous all over again.
"Och, nawthin, nawthin!" Edward quickly reassured him. "Ye jist donnae look like yer sister…" He looked away, wincing at his own words.
James huffed. "I'm an experimental engine that was once a Class 28," he muttered bitterly.
"Och, och!" Edward braked harshly. "I'm sae sorry! I should'nae-"
James halted and backed down, lining up with Edward. "It's fine," huffed James. "How much longer to Tidmouth?"
"A while," replied Edward.
"Where is Tidmouth?"
"Oan the other side o the island!"
"What?" James exclaimed.
….
Tidmouth was very far away.
By the time the two engines pulled into Tidmouth Yard, which sat next to Tidmouth Station, dwindling towards the west, James was low on water and coal. Said engine could barely see it but from a distance, he saw what appeared to be the bay of the island. Not too far away and closer to him was a turntable.
"Here we are! Welcome tae Tidmouth," Edward exclaimed as he rolled into the shunting yard. James followed suit. "This is where we'll be workin for now," said the blue medium-sized tender engine.
James looked around the small yard. "And where are the goods trains?" he asked, confused.
"Och," Edward's lips strained, forming a thin line. "Well… aboot thon." He cleared his pipes. "The Fat Director wants ye tae do shuntin."
"Shunting?" The black medium-sized engine tensed. "But I'm a goods engine," said James.
"It's what he directed."
"But why? Do you not have any shunters?"
"We do."
"But where are they?"
"You're talking with the only one right now."
James' heterochromatic eyes slowly glanced over at Edward, meeting the other engine's brass eyes. The worry within boiled. "You're a shunter?"
The baritone of his voice threw Edward off, startling him. "Aye," he replied, tense.
"But you're a tender engine!"
"I ken."
"Tender engines-"
"Ur'nae meant tae shunt," interrupted the blue medium-sized tender engine. "But it's the Fat Director's orders. Nawthin I can dae aboot it."
"And you're the only one."
"Ye're jist goin tae keep askin questions, ur'nae ye?"
James backed away.
Edward took notice, alarmed. "It's no a bad thing!" He glanced at the yard, concerned. "But we have work tae dae."
"And it's shunting?"
"Aye! Noo, let's git tae it!"
Throughout the afternoon, both engines had some small chats. Edward spoke what little he could remember of the early days of the railway, adding his experiences with the other engines.
Despite the good things he was hearing, James was still worried.
"Do you think they'll like me?" James asked.
Edward hummed as he shunted some Troublesome Trucks to the end of a track. "They will," he replied rather bluntly.
"Oh." James wasn't convinced.
The blue medium-sized tender engine sighed with a warm smile. "Hey, listen. If they donnae like ye right away, give thaim time," he said as he backed away from the trucks.
Suddenly, a low baritone-pitched whistle was heard from a distance. The two had heard it multiple times throughout the day but this time, it got closer to them.
"Is that one of them?" James asked.
"Aye!" Edward replied. He backed up next to James in time to see a grand blue tender engine thunder into the shunting yard with empty coaches. "Come along, come along!" he piped to James, who followed suit.
The blue grand tender engine halted and hummed, observing the two engines approaching him. He focused on the new one.
"Are you the new engine?" The great blue engine asked.
"Yes, uh-" he swallowed a cloud of steam. "I'm James," James replied with a strained smile. He felt small, smaller than Edward.
Edward inched forward. "Why don' ye introduce yerself?" he suggested to the grand blue tender engine.
"Well then, hello. I'm Gordon, and I pull the Wild Nor' Wester," Gordon said bluntly.
"O' the afternoon!" added Edward.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gordon," James responded, feeling tense.
"It was a pleasure as well." Once the grand blue tender engine was uncoupled from the coaches, he left.
"I'll get thaim, ye keep workin oan the regular freight cars," Edward said as he moved to the track where the coaches were.
James looked at the coaches. "Are those the Wild Nor' Wester coaches?"
"They are," Edward responded as he gently shunted them in place. "It's our passenger express service."
"Does someone else pull it? You said something about the afternoon."
"Aye. She's in charge o the Mornin runs."
James hummed curiously. "Do you get to pull it?"
"Mm, naw. No-"
Another whistle was heard. Though this time, it was a higher pitch than Gordon's. "Hello, Edward!" A voice hollered out.
"Och, thon's Henry!" Edward exclaimed. He looked at James. "This way, this way!" He chuffed backward. James followed.
"You must be the new engine. My name's Henry, what's yours?" a grand green tender engine asked as he rolled to a stop in the yard.
"I'm James," the black medium-sized tender engine replied. He liked Henry already. He's nice, he thought.
"It's nice to meet you. I need to get going. I'll see you around," said Henry before he whistled and left the yard.
James hummed. He asked Edward, "Is he the other engine who pulls the Express?"
"Naw, he pulls the regular passenger coaches an goods trains. Gordon pulls goods trains as well, thouch not often," Edward replied.
"Then who's the other engine?"
"Thon would be-"
"Edward!" An English-accented voice hollered.
"Emily, hello thare!" replied Edward.
"Did Gordon do the final Express run of the morning?" Emily quickly asked. She became excited when she noticed the unfamiliar engine next to Edward.
"He did. He juist left for his break."
"Good, good," Emily said in relief. "Now, who is this?" The emerald green tender engine inched closer to the two medium-sized tender engines.
"Gae on," Edward whispered to James. He backed up. "Introduce yerself."
"Hello, I'm James," said James. "It's Emily, right?"
"It is. Welcome to the railway, lad!" Emily replied. "Have you met the coffee pot engine, yet?"
"Coffee pot engine? The ones with the vertical boilers?" James asked, surprised and curious.
"Thae are the anes," Edward replied. "Thare's only ane left on the railway. He runs the Ffarquhar Branch Line, ane o the only operatin branch lines left. Still frequentit as it wis back then."
James hummed. "Do you guys work on the branch line?"
"Nope," replied Emily. "We work on the Main Line, which runs from here to Barrow-in-Furness."
"Oh. Will I be working on the Main Line?"
"Of course. In fact, you are right now." Emily paused when she noticed the lettering on James’ cab. "Welcome from the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway! Did you come from a railway before then?”
"Yes. The Lancashire and Yorkshire," replied James.
"Lancashire and Yorkshire, huh? Think we had two engines on trial from there, not too long ago…" Emily looked at Edward. "Have the other two met him?"
"They have. Shortly before ye came, thon is," replied Edward.
"Good. I must get going. Sir Topham Hatt wants me to pull the passenger train while Henry's gone. I'll see you two later!"
"Alricht, Emily," said Edward as Emily pulled away from the shunting yards. He looked at James. "Wid ye like tae shunt the passenger coaches?"
"Uh, sure," replied the black medium-sized tender engine worriedly. "Which ones are they?"
"The red coaches on the second tae last track."
James spotted the red coaches and went to work.
When he shunted the red passenger coaches into the station, he heard a little girl.
"Mummy, look! A new engine!" she exclaimed, pointing at James.
Her mother hummed. "It's like all the other engines," she commented with a smile.
James began to smile. 
Finally, someone else recognizes that I am just like the others. Just as great. Just as useful-
"I don't see what's so different about it from the rest," the mother said, her smile disappearing. "Other than the eyes," she added, dropping her voice level. She looked down at her daughter and motioned at the passenger coaches. "Come on. Let's get on the train, dear."
The little girl simply followed her mother as James' heterochromatic eyes followed the pair. His eyebrows furrowed at the comment.
Despite the fire still going in his firebox and his water supply full, his boiler felt empty and cold.
So much for wanting to be like everyone else… he thought as he quietly puffed away.
It was evening when James and Edward finished with work. The two engines headed to Knapford Sheds, which were not too far. The other engines were already waiting for them, including the coffee pot engine.
On the way back, the comment from the mother had nagged at James, who tried to push it away.
"Glynn, guid evenin!" greeted Edward as he backed into the berth, along with James next to him in the no-longer empty spot.
"Good evening to you too, Edward," replied Glynn when he noticed the unfamiliar engine right next to him. "Hello there. You must be the new one around here, chap," he said.
James was no longer thinking about what happened earlier. He was staring at the coffee pot engine in awe. He'd heard about them but had never seen one before. 
Glynn was tiny in length but was nearly the same height as Edward. His boiler pointed upwards and his livery was red, covered in a few scratches and dents.
"Oh, hello!" James greeted back, with a sudden rush of eagerness and curiosity. "I am. I'm James!"
Glynn chuckled at the reaction of the black medium-sized tender engine. He was used to it. His design was one-of-a-kind. "Hello, James. Welcome to the North Western Railway."
"Thank you," replied the black medium-sized tender engine.
"You're very welcome. I'm hearing you're around in the shunting yards for now."
"I am… Glynn, was it?"
"It is, lad. With Edward guiding you, you'll be fine on this railway."
"I hope so…"
"Is something on your-?"
"Can you please keep it down?" muttered Gordon from the other end of the shed. Henry, who was right next to him, was fast asleep. "Some of us are trying to get some rest. It's getting late."
Edward yawned. He had stayed quiet for the majority of the time, occasionally speaking to Emily, who tried to stay awake but had fallen asleep rather quickly. "He has a point," said Edward, with another yawn. "Guid night…"
Glynn looked at James. "We can chat tomorrow. Good night, James. Have a good rest."
"Good night, Glynn," replied James.
Soon, all the engines were fast asleep, with James looking forward to the following week.
A loud shrill rang throughout the sheds that morning.
The engines panicked, waking up with a startle. Henry suddenly moved backward, his fire having barely started. He bashed into the buffers at the end of the track.
"Goodness me, who was that?" he asked with sudden fear.
Someone nervously chuckled. All of the engines looked at James, who was about to leave.
"T-that was me…" replied James. "Was it that loud?"
"Well-" began Edward.
"Yes, it was," Gordon huffed. "With that kind of whistle, you'd certainly scare off the passengers."
"Gordon!"
The grand blue tender engine ignored Edward as he whistled and chuffed away.
"Dinnae-"
"Don't mind him, I know," James said, interrupting Edward. He brought his voice down to a whisper. "My sister told me not to."
"Did you say something?" Emily asked.
"N-no, I didn't say anything," James replied. "I'm on my way to the yards."
"Is yer whistle a three-chime whistle, by any chance?" asked Edward.
"Oh, it is," replied James. "It was given to me during my rebuild, 'as a gift' they said. I'm sorry for scaring you all like that."
"Donnae worry aboot it, James. Thouch it wid've been nice tae ken beforehand…" Edward reassured with a chuckle.
"Right, right." James chuckled nervously as he headed out of the sheds.
The next few days went by with ease, or they did so initially.
James had been making great progress. However, by halfway through the week, it was becoming quite sloppy, to say the least.
"Dinnae let them get the best of ye, James. They want engines up tae high doh," said Edward, reminding the black medium-sized tender engine.
James groaned. "'Up the high dough?""
"Flustered, upset… rile up an engine!"
He huffed. "That's troublesome."
The Troublesome Trucks continued to laugh. "No good engine, no good engine!" they chanted with boisterous laughter.
Edward shot a glare at the trucks. "Thon's why they're callit Troublesome Trucks," he said, looking back at James. "Ye'll neit tae learn hou tae deal with thaim properly. Sir Topham Hatt is hopin tae have ye pull yer first goods train by the end of the week."
"Why not now? I was a goods engine on my old railway," James asked as he finally managed to shunt the trucks in place.
"Most of our goods trains have Troublesome Trucks, thon's why not noo," replied Edward. "Sir Topham Hatt doesnae want tae risk ye gettin intae an accident for bein inexperiencit."
"Oh, right," replied James.
Edward hummed. "Och! Before I forget, Glynn is stoppin by for his break. He wantit ye tae shunt his coaches for him."
"Really, why?"
"I dinnae ken," said Edward. "He simply askit me tae tell ye."
"Alright…" said James. "Edward, I'm like the other engines, right?"
"Well, naw. We're all different from ane another-"
"I meant as in- Nevermind," huffed James, returning to shunting the Troublesome Trucks and leaving a confused Edward behind.
"Whit dae ye mean by 'as in?'" asked Edward as he followed the black medium-sized tender engine. "James?"
"It sounds silly but am I an engine? Like a real engine?"
"Of course, ye are," he replied, confused.
"Even if I'm a failed experiment?"
Edward was flabbergasted. "A failed-? Aye, e'en sae, James."
"That's good to know."
"Why are ye askin this? Is awthing alricht?"
James hummed. "...Do passengers often say really rude things?"
Edward's eyes widened. He sighed. "It's best tae ignore thaim." He began to chuff away, leaving the black medium-sized tender engine to ponder. "Nawthin we can dae aboot it."
Around the early afternoon, Glynn arrived at Tidmouth Station. After dropping off his passengers, he headed towards the shunting yard. James was waiting for him, just having arranged a goods train for Henry to take.
"Hello, Glynn," he said as Glynn approached him.
"Hello, James," said Glynn. "I want you to meet my coaches."
"Hello there!" piped up the first coach. "I'm Annie, and she's Clarabel," Annie said, smiling as she glanced back at Clarabel, the passenger brake coach.
"It's nice to meet you, James!" exclaimed Clarabel, as she and Annie were uncoupled from Glynn.
"Hello, Annie. Hello, Clarabel," greeted James to the auburn passenger coaches as he was coupled up to them from the back.
Glynn chuffed away. "I'll be near the water tank. Thank you, James!"
"You're welcome, Glynn!" James replied as he reversed. He thought about where to put the auburn coaches for the time being.
"We usually go in that shed over there," said Clarabel, noticing the pondering engine. She glanced to the left. "Where the red passenger coaches are."
James hummed as he reversed further and switched tracks to reach what looked like a carriage shed. It was at the edge of the shunting yard. As gently as he could, James shunted them in place.
"James, have you ever pulled coaches before?" Annie asked suddenly as a workman uncoupled her from James.
James sighed. "No, I haven't," he replied as he backed away.
"Would you like to one day?" asked Annie.
The black medium-sized tender engine stopped in his tracks. "Sorry?"
"Would you like to pull coaches one day?"
James was hesitant. "I would, but I'm a goods engine. I'm not meant to be pulling passenger coaches."
"Well-"
"You better get going, James. Glynn does want to spend some time with you," said Clarabel hastily, interrupting Annie.
"Oh right! See you in a bit!" exclaimed James as he chuffed away from the shed. He left to join Glynn.
"Goodbye, James!" said Clarabel frantically. Her franticness went unnoticed by James.
But not by Annie. "Clarabel, what was that for?" asked Annie.
The equivalent of Clarabel's eyebrow bone furrowed. "We can't be telling a newcomer such things, Annie. Besides, we don't know for sure. It's… just a possibility."
"...Henry refused to come out of the tunnel. An engine on trial almost got him out but he was being stubborn."
"Would this engine happen to be an L&YR Class 28?"
"Pretty sure it was. Do you know this engine?"
"She's my sister. Number two-forty-three?"
Glynn hummed. "Oh, I remember her. I didn't see her much, though."
"Then how did you know about that?"
"The other three told me about it. They'd seen how hard she tried, but Henry's strong. He wouldn't budge."
"Not one bit?" asked James, amused.
Glynn chuckled lightly. "Not one bit. So the board, including the old Fat Director, ordered for the tunnel to be walled up. He was let out eventually, but that was only because Gordon burst his safety valve and none of the other engines were available to cover for him."
"Wow," said James with a stale tone, though amused. "Even if Gordon hadn't burst his safety valve, Henry would have still been let out, right?"
Glynn stayed silent.
"Right?" Fear began to creep into his boiler.
"No," Glynn replied bluntly. "I don't think so. The others do, but I don't."
"O-oh…"
"It's been a few years since that happened."
"So it won't happen again?"
"No, I doubt it would," said Glynn, teeth clenched.
"Alright. So what happened after?"
"Everything went back to how it was after Gordon was fixed up, just like it is now."
"Nothing changed?"
"Nothing changed," Glynn replied. He heard footsteps. The red coffee pot engine looked in the direction of the sound and saw a group of men walking toward them. "That's my crew. My break's over. Don't worry about Annie and Clarabel, I'll get them myself."
"Oh, alright then. I should get back to work. Goodbye, Glynn!"
"Goodbye, James!" said Glynn as the black medium-sized tender engine left to return to his work in the yard.
"James? James!"
"Hm? Who's there?" asked the black medium-sized tender engine as he backed away from shunting a few cars into the siding. He saw the engine, who had been calling out for him. "Oh, hi, Gordon," said James.
"For how much longer are you going to work in the yard?" Gordon bluntly asked with no greeting.
"By the end of the week, I think," replied James, thrown off by the question. "Why?"
"Just curious," he replied. Gordon brought his voice down to a whisper. "You could be a replacement."
James froze. "R-Replacement? Who?"
"Edward."
"E-Edward?" James looked around frantically to find the engine. He managed to spot him on the other side of the yard. "What's wrong with him?” he whispered. “He seems to be just fine."
"Yes, but that's because he stays in the yard. Have you not noticed how he never leaves the yard?"
The question made James think. "He left once for a goods train to… somewhere, but I've only been here for a few days-"
"Edward's old," Gordon said bluntly. "He's been a shy steamer from the day he was built."
"I've never seen him have that issue…" replied James, looking down as he thought back to the past week.
“He never wheeshes because he just cannot steam enough to do that.”
"But Edward's a reliable engine. Sir Topham Hatt said so himself," replied James. "Besides, I was brought here to pull goods trains. I just… need to be ready."
"Sure," Gordon huffed as he rolled out of the yards, leaving a worried James behind, who recalled something his sister had said.
"Edward, when were you built?" James asked the blue medium-sized tender engine the following morning.
Edward hummed. "I canae remember… but I might be a few decades old," he replied. Edward noticed James' tense stance. "Is somethin botherin ye, James?"
"No, no. No… Actually, yes." He looked straight into Edward's eyes. "Were you the engine who stayed in the shed during the loans? The one who never left?
Edward was startled, but he still answered. "Aye," he replied, looking down. "But I did leave a few times."
"How many?"
"Mmm, five times?"
"A year?"
"The entire time."
James frowned. "And since when have you been here in the yards?"
"Since nineteen-twenty-three, when the Amalgamation happened. But I dinnae mind it. As lon’ as I'm no’ left in the shed all the time, I'm quite pleasit wit it," replied Edward with a pleasing smile.
However, Edward's words shook through James' boiler, and the smile of the blue medium-sized tender engine bothered James.
James watched as Edward went on with his work. "And what about the Troublesome Trucks?" he asked. He had become more annoyed with them since he arrived, growing tired of their mockery.
"Whit aboot thaim?"
"How can you handle this job? Dealing with those Troublesome Trucks?"
"Well, ane, I enjoy it. An’ two, it takes time."
"You enjoy it?"
"Aye, an’ thare's nawthin-"
"Yes, there is!" James yelled.
Edward was startled but his eyebrows furrowed.
"How do you not want to lose it with those trucks?" He huffed. "I'm ready to shunt one off the rails."
Edward hummed. "I am patient wit’ thaim."
"Don't you wish you could do something else?"
"Well, it wis either this or tae be lockit up in the sheds," replied Edward sternly. "An’ I wid rather no’ be sittin in the sheds, deterioratin’ over time." The blue medium-sized tender engine moved away, continuing his work.
James had an idea.
"How about we travel along the mainline?"
Edward stopped. "Pardon?"
"Travel along the mainline. You said you've been here for quite a while. That means you barely go on the Main Line, right?"
"Well, aye. But like I said, I like workin’ in the yard. It's not much but it's nice," replied Edward, getting a bit worried.
"Then let's go on the Main Line!" James exclaimed. "We can chuff around for a bit!"
"Ye're off yer smokebox!" Edward exclaimed. "We're supposit tae stay in the yard. Orders frae the Fat Director!" Despite his own insistence, the offer to leave was tempting.
"He won't find out," said James. "Lighten up a bit!"
"Aye, he will," Edward said sternly.
"It'll only be for a bit!"
"Doesnae matter!"
"Please! The others have just left. No one else should be coming back, right?"
"No’ for a while," replied Edward. He looked up. "Emily jist left wit the Express, Gordon is gaun’ae tae Vicarstown tae deliver a guids train, and Henry is pullin the regular passenger train before headin’ tae the docks wit a guids train from Barrow-in-Furness."
"Then we aren't disturbing anyone."
"An’ the yard?"
"It'll be fine! It'll just be for a bit! Please!"
Edward frowned but then sighed. "Fine. It daes sound nice, but I dinnae like the idea o’ leavin' wit'out Sir Topham Hatt knowin'…"
"Don't worry! We'll be back shortly!"
And back shortly, they were. They had spent less than an hour traveling from Tidmouth to Wellsworth, before turning back.
As they approached Knapford Junction, Edward struggled to see the signals. He squinted, solely focused on the signals that he didn't notice Gordon coming from his left.
Gordon whistled loudly, startling Edward. "Edward! Watch out!" He exclaimed.
"Och!" Edward exclaimed as he pushed on his brakes. He braked in time, missing Gordon. "Gordon! I'm so-!"
"Edward and James!"
The three engines at the junction gasped as they saw the small chubby director storm over to them.
"Gordon, get back to work. Now," he said sternly.
"Of course, sir!" Gordon quickly replied as he chuffed away to Tidmouth.
"You two. The station, now!"
"Y-yes, sir!" exclaimed James.
"Aye, sir!" exclaimed Edward.
The two quickly chuffed towards Knapford Station, leaving the director behind to follow them.
Once the engines settled in the station, Sir Topham Hatt II spoke loudly and sternly at them.
"Edward and James, where have the two of you been?" he asked, raising his voice.
James panicked. "We were on the Main Line, but we didn't go far before coming back, sir!"
"Not far? You're not supposed to leave the shunting yards, the both of you know that!" the short and chubby director exclaimed with fury. He looked at Edward. "Especially you."
"I'm really sorry, sir. James really wantit tae gae, and I agreit. I really wantit tae wander around. Jist for a bit," Edward quickly exclaimed.
Sir Topham Hatt II sighed. "I can't say I'm not upset or disappointed, especially with you, Edward. From now, you're both staying in the yards. You are not to leave unless I say so, understand?"
"Aye, sir."
"Yes, sir," the two medium-sized tender engines replied in solemn unity.
"I hope you do. I'll come back next week instead. Clearly, you both need to learn and behave." Sir Topham Hatt II said sternly before walking away. He shook his head in disappointment, leaving the two engines to think about what they'd done.
The following day, James was listening to another of Glynn's stories. This time, it was about the old days of an old railway: The Tidmouth, Knapford, and Elsbridge Light Railway.
"... they were such great engines. Sadly, the first one didn't make it past the beginning of the century and the other was scrapped in nineteen-twenty. The other engines were scrapped by then, so it was just Edward and me. Thankfully, Emily, Henry, and Gordon have come along, and now you have as well." Glynn sighed. "You've been quite helpful since you got here."
"Mm. I'm glad I am," replied James.
His flat tone worried the red coffee pot engine. "You know, you've been quiet for most of the morning and I've noticed you've been ignoring Edward. Is something going on, chap?" Glynn asked.
James looked down, staying quiet.
"It's about yesterday, isn't it?"
The black medium-sized tender engine sighed. He continued to look down at his black running board. "Do you think Edward's mad at me?"
Glynn hummed. "He isn't one to stay mad for long. Talk to him."
"Alright…" James looked at Glynn. "Who were the other engines? Were they from other railways?"
"Well…" Glynn hummed. "There was a tender engine, along with two tank engines from the old Wellsworth and Suddery Railway, and two box-tank engines from the Sodor and Mainland Railway." He squinted, looking down in thought. "Actually, one of the box tanks might still be around here somewhere."
That piqued James' interest. "Really?"
"Maybe. I just don't know where. The tender engine was responsible for leaving them on a siding… His name was-"
"Glynn! Break's over!"
Both engines looked in the direction of the sound. It was Glynn's driver, Gilbert Perkins.
"Alright, Mr. Perkins!" Glynn exclaimed. As Gilbert climbed into Glynn's cab, along with his driver, Glynn looked back at James. "Talk to Edward about it. It's the only way to know." He whistled a farewell and left to pick up Annie and Clarabel for his afternoon run.
James stayed behind in the empty and lonely area of the Tidmouth Yards.
He has a point.
It was easier said than done, James thought to himself.
For the past few days, he struggled to talk to Edward but managed to speak up to him, days after his conversation with Glynn.
"Edward…?"
The blue medium-sized tender engine looked back at James. "Hm?"
"Listen, I'm… I'm sorry."
Edward lifted an eyebrow. "For?"
"For making you leave the shunting yard. It got you in trouble and-"
"I'll stop ye richt thare," Edward interrupted, as he backed down to be right next to James. "Ye dinnae make me leave the shuntin yard. I chose to leave wit ye," he explained with emphasis.
"But still-"
"We're both tae blame for whit almost happenit," said Edward. "I actit upon my temptation an ye acted upon yer naivety."
"Naive?" said James offensively. "What do you mean 'naive?'"
"As in, ye dinnae know any better," Edward bluntly replied. "Thon's all."
James frowned.
"Och, thon reminds me. Sir Topham Hatt is comin’ tae see ye in a bit about yer first goods train later today," said Edward.
"What, why? Is there something else I need to know?"
"I think so," replied Edward. His eyes drifted to something elsewhere. He caught a glimpse of the man in question. "He's comin' this way. I'll continue work in the yard," he muttered as he quickly chuffed away.
Sir Topham Hatt II soon reached James. "There you are, James. Now, I came to remind you about the goods train you're taking today. Do you remember where and where?"
"From Brendam Docks to Vicarstown, sir?" replied James.
"Correct. Now, I need you to be careful. From what I've heard, you are capable of handling the Troublesome Trucks but please be cautious, alright?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Excellent! Now, please go to the Crovan's Gate Works," he said, smiling. "Welcome to the North Western Railway, James, our number six engine. I look forward to hearing good reports on your first run."
James gasped with joy. "On it! I won't let you down, sir!" he replied with determination and happiness as he left, smiling, to continue his work.
It was the late afternoon of that day when James arrived at Brendam Docks. He rolled in with the number 6 painted on his tender.
He was quite surprised to see how empty the docks were.
There was only one crane at the docks, doing all the unloading. James thought he saw a weird shape, a face of some sort on the crane. But it was too dark to be sure with the sun setting.
James wanted to say "hello" but decided not to. For all he knew, the crane probably had no face. I would make a fool of myself, he thought.
The black medium-sized tender engine was switched over to be able to back up into the goods train. A workman in the docks approached him, coupling James up to the goods train. He gave a quick thumbs up to Fred, James' driver.
"Alright, we're ready to go!" Fred hollered out for James to hear.
James' three-chime whistle rang throughout the docks, startling a few of the workers, before chuffing away.
James arrived at the Vicarstown Yards without any problems. The Vicarstown Station was there, which only consisted of platforms, and the abandoned Vicarstown Sheds were nearby. Gordon was there with Wild Nor' Wester for the afternoon.
Fred and George climbed out of his cab, walking towards the smokebox of the black medium-sized tender engine.
"We had a very good first run, didn't we, James?" asked Fred with pride.
"Everything went fine. There's nothing wrong," James replied, a bit thrown off. It still caught him off guard when someone asked for his opinion. "Yeah, it went well."
His crew chuckled, hiding their solemn feelings for the engine.
Fred Quill and George Turner were transferred over to the North Western Railway with James. While George wasn't married or had any family living with him, Fred did. Thankfully, his family agreed to move to Sodor, with special transportation provided by Sir Topham Hatt II to help with the move, having Emily be of assistance for both crewmen.
From their time on the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway, they had seen the trouble James went through as an experimental goods engine after his rebuild, especially with most of his siblings. And especially on the evening of James' last day on the LMS.
Suddenly, one of the workmen in the yard called out. "You may leave now! Emily will be coming by to take it from here!"
Without wasting any time, the crewmen climbed into their engine's cab and left the yard.
The following morning, James was the second to last engine to leave the sheds for work when he saw Henry in his berth.
Henry was usually the first to leave. However, the grand green tender engine looked ill. Too ill and tired to move.
"Henry? What's wrong?" asked James quietly.
"I'm having boiler problems again," replied Henry solemnly. "It happens a lot. I'm used to it."
"Since when have you had them?"
"When I was built. The old Fat Director was quite upset when he realized it," Henry replied.
"Can't they do anything to fix it?"
Henry shot a glare at James. "Not after they bought you," he snapped with sudden bitterness. "They said it was too expensive." He squinted at James. "Yet, his first investment was you."
James was thrown off. He hadn't interacted much with Henry but he had initially taken a liking for the grand green tender engine.
"I-I…"
"Just get to work," said Henry. He looked away with a frown. "If you're replacing anyone, it better not be me. Might as well replace Edward or Glynn. I've worked too hard for this railway, for goodness sake."
James stayed silent and left.
If you're replacing anyone, it better not be me…
…it better not be me…
Fred and George began to worry. "Let's go refill on coal and water, chap," said Fred, patting his engine’s cab.
As the black medium-sized tender engine chuffed away, Henry scowled and James could feel it be directed to him.
He felt extremely uncomfortable so he picked up the pace to quickly leave Knapford and head to Tidmouth. His crewmen hollered at him.
He could just use the coal hopper and water tower in Tidmouth Yards.
That afternoon, Henry passed through the yard, searching for his goods train. He was able to start running once again and, with enough convincing, Sir Topham Hatt II allowed Henry to pull his goods train to Barrow-in-Furness.
He looked around until he found a long train of trucks full of crates and tarp-covered trucks. Henry smiled at being able to find it as he backed down the front of the train. Nearby was James.
James was preparing a set of trucks to take to Brendam Docks when he saw Henry. He felt tense at seeing him, promptly attempting to ignore him.
Attempting.
"Afternoon, James," said Henry.
"Hi, Henry," James replied swiftly, with a frown.
The grand green tender engine frowned as well. "Listen, I'm sorry about-."
"I don't want to replace anyone," James said suddenly, interrupting Henry. "I didn't come here to replace either of you guys. I was brought to help you guys." James huffed. "Glad they did…" What are you doing? "b-because you don't even do anything!"
"A-Anything?" huffed Henry. Now it was his turn to be thrown off as he fumed. "I work hard for this railway. I push myself to my own limits to get a single job done. I may have been defective, but at least I was appreciated, compared to the failure of an experiment you are!" His crew pulled on the brakes out of fear, locking him onto the track.
James was thrown off as Fred and George tried to soothe him. "How did you-?"
"I remember your sister, alright. The L and YR Class twenty-eight engine? Works number two-forty-three. The one who tried to get me out of that tunnel. I saw her at Barrow-in-Furness before you came here. In fact, I saw you there with her."
The black medium-sized tender engine stayed quiet.
"If you want to be worth the Fat Director's money, you better get going on those trucks, mate," said Henry with a scowl. "I'm leaving." With that, he whistled, announcing his departure from the Tidmouth Yards.
Fred jumped out of James' cab once Henry left, rushing to the front of the engine. James' cheeks burned, turning black as his boiler boiled and bubbled.
"James? Lad? Hello?" Fred called out.
They heard chuffing approaching them.
"W-what happened? James?" exclaimed Edward. He had been on the other side of the shunting yard when he heard a loud, distressing commotion. The blue medium-sized tender engine had seen Henry leave hastily.
"Hey, Quill. You guys alright?" hollered out Sidney Heaver, Edward's fireman as he jumped out of the cab, towards Fred.
"We are, but James isn't," replied Fred, slightly distracted as he tried getting James' attention. "Come on, lad!"
"James? James!" exclaimed Edward.
James wouldn't budge.
An idea came to him. "I'll see if I can find Glynn. He might be just the engine to bring him to." He whistled and chuffed away once Sidney climbed back onto Edward, leaving Fred and George with James.
By the time Edward had found Glynn, it was dark. Glynn had just returned from his final passenger run. Edward quickly shunted away Annie and Clarabel, with the usual gentle care.
But when they arrived, James had disappeared. He had left with his trucks for Brendam Docks.
The next day, Emily chuffed up to James, shortly before it was time to pull the Express.
"James, are you alright? I heard what happened yesterday," said Emily.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm alright," he replied.
Emily hummed. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I just needed some time to think alone, that's all."
"Right…" said Emily. "Listen, if you want to talk, just know that I'm here. So are Glynn and Edward."
"Thanks… Um, Emily, is there something wrong with Edward and Glynn?"
"No… Well, Edward has steaming issues but not severe enough to prevent him from working, and Glynn has broken down a couple of times," she replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Nothing, just wondering."
"I know you're lying, mate," Emily said bluntly. "Did someone tell you something?"
James looked away and frowned.
"James…"
"Yes…"
Emily sighed, having a good idea of who it was. "Bother. Don't listen to them. They don't know Edward and Glynn as much as I do. Those two are troupers."
"Will the Fat Director replace either one of them?"
"He would never, unlike the board," she grumbled.
"The board? They make the final decisions, don't they?"
"They do, somewhat, but they struggle because of the Fat Director. It takes a lot for both to agree, and that doesn't happen often from what I hear."
"And if it does, when it comes to… replacing?"
"Then… it does."
Since that day, James has stayed quiet. Extremely quiet. He didn't like Emily's solemn tone. It bothered him, nagged at him as if a workman was scraping his firebox empty.
His sudden mood change did not go unnoticed but the attempts to speak to him were fruitless, except for Glynn.
"Glynn, there really is no way of escaping being scrapped, is there?" asked James.
The red coffee pot engine sighed. "I'm afraid so. In the end, we will be scrapped. The question isn't if we will be scrapped, it's when we will be scrapped," he replied solemnly. "What brings this up?"
"I just have a lot on my mind…" said James. "I miss my sister."
"You always mention your sister, young lad," said Glynn. "You have other siblings, right?."
"I rather not," said James bitterly. "They were nothing but rude to me. Just absolutely profane." He glanced at Glynn, glaring at the thought of them. "Twelve-five fifty-five, two-forty-three before the Amalgamation, was the only one who respected me after my rebuild. She actually treated me the same way she would treat others."
"My apologies. I didn't mean to set you off," said Glynn.
"It's fine… I'm sorry for responding like that," James replied solemnly.
"We're just really worried about you, James. You weren't… rude when you arrived," Glynn said bluntly. "And you've been acting quite odd."
"I need to get going," replied James. "I have another train to pull from Brendam."
The red coffee pot engine sighed. "Alright then, lad. Take care on the job! I'll see you later!"
James smiled. "Thank you! I'll see you later!" he exclaimed, with a sudden change of mood.
"James? James!"
The black medium-sized tender engine jerked awake. "Huh?"
"The Fat Director wants to speak with you," said Emily, who was on the turntable next to the sheds. "There's a little platform in Tidmouth Yards. His office is right there." She whistled. "Goodbye, see you later!" she exclaimed hastily.
"Ah, goodbye!" James exclaimed. He heard snoring to his left. There was Glynn.
That's weird, he thought. Glynn is usually off to work by now…
Not wanting to disturb the coffee pot engine, the black medium-sized tender engine left quickly and quietly.
The trek to Tidmouth Yards was uncomfortable and quiet, an appropriate feeling for James at the moment.
Since my rebuild, I wanted to be like every other engine, he thought to himself as he headed to the platform. But after that… I don't think I want to be like any engine. I want to be unique. I want to be different. I want to be special, but still, be a really useful engine.
Sir Topham Hatt II spotted the approaching engine. "Good afternoon, James. I have something special for you," he said once James came to stop at the platform.
"What is it, sir?" asked James.
"Starting tomorrow, you will be going on a trial," Sir Topham Hatt II told him, his voice becoming stern.
"A trial, sir?" James asked, worried.
"I'm putting you on trial on the Ffarquhar Branch Line," said Sir Topham Hatt II. "You will be running the passenger service for that line."
James was shocked. He gasped. "A passenger train?" James asked nervously.
"Yes, a passenger train. That branch line is one of the only operational lines that we can afford right now, and many people from the south of Sodor depend on it. Don't let us down, James," he said sternly. "Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir! I won't let the railway down. I will do my very best."
"You better. Go on with your work now."
"Yes, sir!" replied James. He whistled and chuffed away from the platform, leaving Tidmouth Yards.
"I heard ye were put oan trial oan the Ffarquhar Branch Line," asked Edward that afternoon in the Tidmouth Yards.
"Yeah, and?" James asked defensively.
Edward looked ahead, staring blankly at the landscape ahead. "I jist wantit tae say, congratulations," he replied. "I forgot tae say this the other day, but welcome tae yon railway, number six."
"Well, thank you very much," he said. James gestured toward his number. "Took you long enough."
Edward hummed. “Sorry, jist been busy, thon’s all.” He yawned. "I'm gaun'ae get some rest. I'll see ye later," he mumbled as he chuffed away.
There was no response from James, as he was thinking, Twelve-five fifty-five, you were right. I did fit in just fine…
I think.
.
.
.
It was a peaceful summer morning on the Island of Sodor, and today was James' first passenger run.
He was going along the Ffarquhar Branch Line when he heard an unfamiliar whistle. An engine, a stranger, approached right next to him.
When he looked over, he gasped and braked so suddenly. Sparks flew from his wooden brakes.
The engine had no face.
James recognized her from the many stories he had heard on the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway. The very vivid description going through his mind.
"Lady?"
"Indeed I am, James," Lady replied.
"W-What are you doing here?" James asked.
"I am here to simply tell you one thing."
"What is it?" he asked. An odd fear began to boil within him.
"It's one or the other, James. One or the other…" chanted Lady.
She continued chanting when another voice joined.
James looked ahead to see an engine that he knew all too well.
"One or the other," the L&YR Class 28 engine chanted with Lady, looking into James' eyes with no emotion. She was going backward on the track.
"T-Twelve-five fifty-five?" asked James nervously, his voice wavered.
"You see? You fit in just fine! It was one or the other, and you've gone for one," said LMS 12555 so uncannily. "You even have a name! James. What a splendid name for a splendid engine."
"I-I did!" he replied, trying to ignore the uncanny feeling that lingered in the air. "M-maybe one day, you'll be here with me! We can have a peaceful life on Sodor, sis!"
LMS 12555 frowned while Lady continued to chant in the background, "One or the other. One or the other. One or the other…"
At the same time, the space around them changed, and everything deteriorated. It became a black void with the tracks being the only thing in existence.
"But James… it's one or the other…" she said as she began to deteriorate and fade away.
Before James could say anything, a sudden glow enveloped Lady. Within seconds, a golden light flashed, blinding a stunned James, who had a sad face of realization.
.
.
.
James woke up, heavily panting. He looked around in the darkness of Knapford Sheds. He looked to his left.
Glynn was gone. He hadn't seen him since yesterday morning.
It's one or the other… James thought to himself as he began to panic. He squeezed his eyes shut as the phrase repeated itself in his mind.
One or the other…
One or the other…
One or the other…
~
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