#I'm a writer not an engineer.

[sohelish]

me@me gotta work on Hel's time travel headcanons more, but I've pretty much figured the general stuff and it's the tech realisation that I'm stuck at.

like I got the general principle going, the tachyons, the temporal bubbles, adjacent timelines and their influences on each other...

but the challenging part is to come up with the device system. I'm thinking, a belt, a tricorder-like device and the strategic use of temporal beacons. as well as an extraction system/plan bc I'm pretty set on doing it buddy system style.

[phantom-0-writer]

scene 5: to win a war, fight the battles

continuation of tim's arch nemesis

Tim had done his research. He was a Bat after all. Mr. Nolan was infamous for handing out the most difficult assignment right after midterm, weighing a heaping 40% of their final grade. Physics class had never been of much interest to Tim, he found it straightforward and elementary compared to the many projects he’s committed himself to as a Bat, and member of the Young Justice League. And it just so happened to be the only classes Tim shared with one Daniel James Fenton for the semester. 

While Tim’s fellow classmates groaned at the announcement Mr. Nolan made, Tim’s knew his fate for the next three weeks was decided. He’d stayed up extra late completing his last case, and had even let his finger break so he could be off patrol without suspicion. Only his pinky of course, but enough for it to count. Despite all of Tim’s meticulous preparation for the assignment, he could only find the requirements with the rest of his class. 

Tim had considered hacking into the system and finding all of Mr.Nolan’s notes for this assignment. The reason he hadn’t done it wasn’t because he couldn’t - the school’s firewalls were a joke - but because that would mean he was admitting that the only way he could beat Daniel James Fenton was to use underhanded tactics. And that was not a defeat Tim would take. 

Tim listened closely as Mr.Nolan explained how this semester’s project would consist of him and an assigned partner creating a model using any of the physics topics they had covered throughout the semester and present it on the due date. They had till the next class to submit a formal proposal of their topic. Simple enough. 

There was just one liability in Tim’s way now: the assigned partner. Normally Tim wouldn’t have been so worried, after all this class was for the advanced students in an already competitive school. But this time was different. This time Tim had a goal. He needed to annihilate Daniel. 

“The partners for this project will be on the screen, I suggest you all get comfortable because you’ll be seeing each other a lot for the remainder of the semester.” As the projector flickered to life it dawned the document that would make or break Tim’s future. 

There were 36 students in their class, a perfect even number. Discluding Tim there were 35 other students. Daniel was simply one- one- of the 35. There was a measly 3% chance they would be paired. 

And yet. 

And yet, there it was. Printed clearly in front of Tim’s eyes. 

Timothy Drake - Daniel Fenton

In a moment of insurgence, Tim raised his hand, “Sir, I would like to change partners.” There wasn’t anyone in particular Tim would rather be paired with, but he could not have his plans mutilated by such a catastrophe. 

Mr. Nolan raised a brow at Tim, “Is there a reason in particular, Mr. Drake?” 

Tim hesitated. He had no qualms with telling Mr.Nolan the reason, but if he were to say it in front of the whole class with Daniel present he would lose the element of surprise. “No, sir.” 

Mr. Nolan leaned back onto the podium, “Is there someone else you would prefer to work with then, Mr. Drake?”

In pure humiliation, “No, sir.” 

“Well I’m glad to see I’ve made a suitable match.” Mr.Nolan concluded with finality, “Any other questions, Mr. Drake?” 

“Are we graded individually or together?” Tim clung to his last tether of hope like a lifeline. 

Unequivocally and mercilessly Mr. Nolan crushed Tim’s very being. “Together.” Tim sunk into his seat. He had become his own worst enemy. Tim ignored the confused look Daniel sent him from the other side of the classroom, saving himself the disgrace. “Any other question?” Mr.Nolan asked the class. 

There was still a way for him to crush Daniel under his steel toed Red Robin boots. Tim would simply overpower Daniel with his superior skills and intellect, and make it unquestionably clear that it was Tim who had gotten them the perfect score. A year - 5 - 10 years from now this would be the memory that woke Daniel up in cold sweat in the middle of the night. 

Psychological warfare. Tim’s specialty.

Once Mr.Nolan gave them the signal to disperse into their groups Tim met Daniel halfway between the two ends of the room where they sat. 

“Uh, Tim, right?” Daniel asked with an awkward wanna-be polite smile. 

“Yes, nice to meet you.” Tim flashed a smile he had perfected at the years of gala’s and business meetings he’d attended. Disarming, and charming. The perfect set up to sweep the enemy from under their feet. “Daniel, I believe.” A casual show of power, usually brushed off as unintentional. It was fully intentional. 

“Danny’s fine.” He corrected with what must have been an attempt at an unassuming smile. Tim knew better, Danny would be ruthless in his attempt to permanently upsurge Tim from beautifully satiating first place. “So any ideas on what we should do our assignment on?”

Danny’s coup would not be successful for Tim had come prepared. “We could reconfigure an airplane for better aerodynamics.” Tim had gone through great lengths to research and develop that about a month ago for the Bat Plane, and if he dumbed it down slightly it should pass for a civilian. 

Danny considered the idea for a moment, with the barest head nod. Victory was in Tim’s grasp now. “We could change the wingspan and nose shape of it and then widen the back fins for a more acute directional accuracy.” He offered easily. Tim blinked, that was supposed to be his line, where he would prove his superiority with the knowledge he’d already acquired. Victory, it turned out, was like a handful of sand that would, despite all efforts, spill through his fingers. “It seems easy enough.” 

“Did you have any ideas?” Tim asked testingly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Not really, but I thought it would be cool to try one of Tesla’s ideas. Nikola Tesla’s, I mean. The one off the top of my head is the thought camera.” Danny rambled with his hands. 

Tim may have admitted that he felt a bit inspired at the idea of mimicking and improving on one of Tesla’s ideas, if it hadn’t been proposed by Danny. “The thought camera?” Tim echoed incredulously, formulating the perfect eyebrow raise to show his distaste. 

Danny seemed undeterred, and was instead studying the rubric Mr.Nolan had left open on the board. “Yeah, I’m not a huge fan of that one either,” He said offhandedly, “I was just spitballing.” 

This would’ve been the perfect opening for Tim to intercede with the perfect idea. As a Bat, Tim of all people should know the importance of always being ready and well informed of any situation that may arise. Yet here he was, unprepared. Resiliently, Tim pulled out his phone and searched up potential suggestions. Danny peaked over to look as well. 

“The wireless energy transmitter seems like a good idea. If we proportionally scale it down we could have a fully functioning model.” Tim declared victoriously to his partner, who couldn't help but be on board with his amazing idea. 

Tim had already won the first battle, and the war would soon be over with Tim’s overwhelming conqueror of the first place position. 

Bouncing off of Tim’s original idea, the team had already procured a rough sketch of their model, and had designated a day to gather their supplies. 

--

Howard watched as his student’s chattering meshed into one indistinguishable sound. Howard through his past researching with other professionals in varying stages of their career, and teaching college students of various majors and life goals had become astute as discerning a person��s potential. He was aware his current students, now only between the ages of fifteen and nineteen, would not appreciate his sentiment on grading them on a scale of what he believed their personal best to be. Leading to his infamous profile through the halls of Gotham Academy.

Over his cumulative professional careers there was perhaps only a handful that Howard predicted to hold greatness. His visions always came to fruition as the sapling students of science and research once under his care, blossomed into leaders in their fields with headlining research papers under their name. And when Howard did find himself in the possessions of those saplings he made sure to nurture their growth as much as he could.

It just so happened this year Howard found himself with two. 

There was one who Howard had heard whispers of in the teacher’s lounge. Tim Drake always sat in class with a bored castover look, ready with the perfect answer when tested as if he were the one with the PhD. Tim completed all his assignments with a stern perfection, always unchallenged with the material no matter how difficult his peers seemed to find it. 

It only was Danny Fenton’s second year attending the Academy, and there were only a few that knew him as a student, but they were not stingy with their praises. In the first week of class Howard had found him unassuming, scribbling what Howard had assumed to be notes like his peers throughout class. He was swiftly corrected when Danny came to him, after class one day, frazzled over something in his book. Howard, always ready to help a student, welcomed him graciously. In the book Howard did not find scribbled notes of inertia and energy, but a diagram- more accurately a blueprint- of an archimedes engine applied for a re-designed drag car. 

Howard watched the first spark of intrigue be kindled between the two with deep satisfaction.

[constantvariations]

Recently saw a post in the Adam Taurus tag (an exercise in patience, that tag) that claimed that the signs of Adam not actually caring for the Faunus cause start as early as the Black Trailer. Their evidence?

Blake: What about the crew members?

Adam: What about them?

They proposed that the lack of concern Adam felt for the SDC crew whilst knowing that Faunus were often employed against their will meant he always put his revenge above the needs of the Faunus

Let me tell you, my jaw dropped at the stupidity

The way they went on, you'd think he was about to kill a small nation's worth of SDC workers, but like.

Babe.

It's a cargo train. Their skeleton crew barely has bones

According to the Association of American Railroads, the standard practice is a two-person crew, a locomotive engineer and a conductor, but it's not uncommon to have a crew of one. It would undoubtedly suck to be one of those guys if Adam had succeeded, but it's not the unbridled massacre people seem to think it is

As for the Faunus angle, I highly doubt any slave would be given the skills of either of those positions, much less left in charge of who knows how much lien's worth of name brand products, so no danger of accidentally eliminating the unfortunate kin there. Had they been Faunus that did join the SDC of their own volition, then they's be SOL just like the humans

I'm so tired of people making shit up or blowing things out of proportion to justify their Adam hate

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

It's hard to pick a worst book because the thing I'd judge that on is whether all the stories are memorable and whether anything actually happens in them. Like, that anon who said all the Skarloey Railway books were mid? Those books do have a lot of stories that seem to be trying to make a brief stop on the rails a lot more of an event than it actually is. In fact, there's so many Skarloey Railway stories like that that I often confuse them and have to actually go back reference them to make sure I've got the narrative straight.

However, most of the books will have one or two good stories and then one or two of these goldbrick stories alongside. And that's true all the way through the series. So it's hard to say which one is the worst because almost all of them are like that.

But since you did ask specifically and I can follow directions, I'm going to go with The Eight Famous Engines since it has three stories that are about almost nothing. "Percy Takes the Plunge" is a nice solid outing, but "Gordon Goes Foreign", "Double Header", and "The Fat Controller's Engines" all feel like they have to be there to pad this thing out.

More than the question of which of his books is the worst though, maybe we should consider that Awdry himself was just not that good a writer. He was good at collecting trainedotes and putting his characters faces on them. And that's a fine skill to have, but a good book it does not necessarily make, as Awdry Jr.'s additions to the series go on to prove...

Damn, DJ sees "I'd like to nuke six whole books from orbit at once" and raises it to "Can Wilbert Awdry even be said to write?"

[fuckwhoeverpickedallthefunnyurls]

Me when I accidentaly catapulted myself into a situation where I have to write about the repair of an advanced spaceship engine (I know nothing about spaceships or engines):

[some-pers0n]

I wish there was more talk about Engie's character since I genuinely believe he's the most developed and complicated merc.

He comes from a lineage of engineers and builders, all of whom accomplished great things. His grandfather, Radigan, built the gunslinger, immortality machines, several guns of gadgets, etc and etc. Fred, his father, fought in the Gravel War and (probably most definitely) invented sentry guns, teleporters, and dispensers. He's got a name to live up to. He's a Conagher, dammit. He gets in with the whole RED/BLU debacle, kills people, builds practical tools and equipment, and upholds a legacy that Radigan set before them. That's what he was always told to do, no?

You can do a hell of a lot with just that concept alone, but it goes beyond that. Engie has a deeper personality than just the surface-level salt-of-the-earth caring Texan cowboy. He's often characterized as the 'sanest' member of the group (along with Heavy) when like...no??

I mean, we got the Gunslinger. I feel like this is one of the more interesting moments in the entire series, yet we don't even see it. It's only ever implied. Engie cuts off his lower right arm before then replacing it with a robotic version. It's a very drastic moment, one that characterizes Engie in a particular light.

Not to also mention how it's pretty easy to come to the conclusion that his sweet Texan exterior hides a more sinister and darker area. I personally think that, while there is some truth to the kindness, he generally doesn't care about most people and is just using his charm as a means to an end and to get something out of people. Engie is far from sane (just like the rest of the mercs), but yet he's always shown in that light.

Well, I can't really blame people for that assumption though. I feel like a good chunk of the reason why Engie isn't as 'understood' is because he doesn't really...have a lot of canon material. He's got his Meet the Team video, his role in Expiration Date, an entire comic (Loose Cannon), a couple appearances here and there in the side comics, and a relatively backseated role in the main comics as a partner to the Administrator.

He's...not really given too much, especially when compared to other characters like Soldier and Scout. He doesn't really have a 'moment' like the others (at least on screen). For example: Medic has the whole grafting souls and baboon uterus thing. Engie...doesn't got that. He's just sort of playing nanny to the Admin to make sure she doesn't die. It's sad. I wish there was more talk of him. He's a really fun and interesting character.

[weirdowithaquill]

So, my guesses for the guest engine for chapter 4 of your latest installment are as labeled here: Thorkell, any of Spencer's siblings (except mallard), Clive or Mathew, any of the "railfest gang', city of turo, evning star, that one nice class 87 from Scott's book that was surprised that that palendino didn't know who gordon was ( bring that wonder engine back), Wilbert, or Stepny.

It feels like a bit too much if I gave an answer on all of these characters - would narrow the field a bit too much. All the same, I can confidently say that it is none of these characters. I feel like people are going to have no clue who the special guest is - so I guess I'll give out a hint.

Our mystery character is not an engine - oh, and he's been referenced a few times throughout the series, but your best hint is actually in a Tumblr post.

[maybeamiles]

So I finished the first main story of Wuthering Waves, and I want to like it more than I do.

Spoilers below the cut cause this game has been out for literally a week.

Quite frankly, I'm disappointed that Scar's manipulations never got to play out to their fullest. When he said that Rover was incredibly powerful, and everyone would be manipulating him to be on their side, that got to me. I wish Rover was allowed to scheme for himself, to try and play both sides to get the information he doesn't have. I wish he could've been as smart as the scene with the Magistrate makes him out to be. I wish he'd been able to doubt, just a little bit, if he was on the right side.

But no. Perfect MC Protagonist Rover doesn't have doubts, and perfect sexy search engine Yangyang never lies. The government is 100% trustworthy and you should never doubt the goodness of the Gods. After all, you were prophesied. You are our savior. Everything you do is right. Don't ask questions. Don't stand out from the crowd. Look at how pretty Yangyang is. Or maybe the general, if that's more your speed? Enjoy the power fantasy. You like power fantasies.

Right?

[doortotomorrow]

duela/turner - the pilot

[welcome-to-the-districts]

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Major TW for violence, injury and blood.  This one-shot was written after listening to this particular cover. I highly recommend checking it out.

Summary: You are one of Rusty’s most favored humans, but the stress from the higher ups of the yard along with reduced rations are putting a strain on him. The beast within cannot be contained for long. Will he be able to keep himself in check? Or will you face perilous danger and potentially suffer a horrible fate?

One-shot under the cut.

You smile as you make your way towards the freight yard, looking forward to seeing one of your closest coworkers. You have just started your break, albeit it’s later than yesterday, but your boss didn’t allow you to take it unless you made sure all the passengers had left the passenger train. It’s one of your duties as a passenger service attendant. You don’t mind working with Greaseball, considering how much he has become humbled after the races. However, he’s not the one you’re looking forward to seeing. Out of all the engines here, you’ve taken a liking to the young steamer in the freight yard, Rusty. Your coworkers have warned you to be careful around him. You didn’t come here without knowing the risks. You had taken the time to research the different types of rolling stock at least a little bit. You know steamers are powerful predators and are to be approached with extreme caution. However, Rusty has never harmed a single human in his life. 

Sure, Poppa has attacked at least one worker, who had recently disappeared a few months ago. You’re not quite sure why no one refuses to talk about it and why you suddenly got a big raise. It’s odd, as if they are trying  to keep people here, or are they trying to keep people quiet? You’re not sure but that’s not important at the moment. You’re more concerned about seeing your friend. Hopefully, he hasn’t let his victory at the races get to him, or had become stressed from the sudden surge of attention. 

You stop at the gates. The chain link fence goes all along the perimeter of the freight yard. You ponder for a moment. If Poppa and Rusty are so dangerous, then why don't the higher ups put up a much stronger fence to keep them from escaping if things go wrong? You shrug it off and open the gates before stepping into the freight yard. It’s oddly quiet. It seems the freight trucks are taking a much needed break. You begin to think Rusty may very well be on break as well, likely spending time with Pearl as always. You jump as you hear his familiar whistle and Rusty races over to you with a toothy grin. Steam billows from his nostrils and between his sharp teeth.

Rusty races around you in circles while he chirps excitedly before he screeches to a stop just in front of you. Sparks fly from his wheels and fall onto the concrete, which quickly extinguishes them. He looks down at you with his warm amber eyes. You are a little under half his size. Rusty is easily a bit over ten feet tall, mostly likely twelve feet exactly. Despite this, you never have felt intimidated by him. He never really made you feel unsafe. You feel comfortable around him, safe even. 

“What took you so long? I was beginning to worry a little bit. The diesels didn’t give you a hard time did they? I know they tend to be dangerous at times.” Rusty asks, concern visible on his face. He looks you up and down as if he’s checking you over for wounds. He bends down and sniffs at you like a large dog, seeing if he could pick up the scent of blood. You watch as he relaxes, relieved you’re unharmed. His smile returns and you’re able to get a good look at those sharp teeth of his. They remind you of the teeth of a great lion. His canines are a bit longer than Greaseball’s, which is normal for a steamer. His teeth are built for the kill, adapted for him to easily rip pieces of flesh from his kills. They’re a reminder of a steamer's nature, predatory, and dangerous. Yet he has always been so gentle with you. 

His amber eyes almost have a glint of mischief to them. It’s not uncommon for the steamer to pull some small prank or tell a joke he has learned from the freight trucks, specifically Flat-Top. Some of which were more for adults yet went right over his head. You’re sure he’d grow to learn the true meaning of the jokes. As for the moment, he seems perfectly fine and docile. Despite this, you know the food rations have been reduced and the workload has been increased on the rolling stock, putting more stress on the rolling stock and the human workers alike. The recent budget cuts have taken their toll on both the workers and the rolling stock alike. It could make for a potentially disastrous situation. However, Rusty still seems to be his usual self. Perhaps this isn’t as bad as you thought it was. 

“Sorry I’m late. My boss wouldn’t let me take my break until I finished unloading the passengers and checking to see if anyone stayed behind. They put Greaseball back on passenger service today. He’s still a little upset after Mike disappeared, but he’s doing better. Dinah definitely was a big help when it came to cheering him up. She’s been spending a lot more time with him apparently.” You reply. You watch as Rusty’s smile falters for a moment, as if you had said something that bothered him. You give him a puzzled look and he quickly shakes it off. 

“Your boss should’ve let you take your break at the time it’s scheduled to be on. It’s not fair to you as you have a break scheduled. Your boss can’t go against it. As for Mike disappearing.. the police didn’t even bother to look into it and the higher ups just.. swept it under the rug.” Rusty's smile fades and his expression becomes much more serious. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappears. “Be careful around Greaseball. He’s not as friendly as I am. I know he’s changed since the races. I don’t want you to get hurt. 

This is a change you weren’t expecting to see in Rusty. Deep down, you feel a bit worried, but you quickly shake it off. You have to be careful with any of the rolling stock you work with anyway. It’s simply common sense. You simply nod, avoiding his gaze. A nervous behavior you quickly correct. You can’t act nervous or anxious around him. It could end in disaster.

“I understand.. Are you okay, Rusty? Did I say something that bothered you? I’m sorry if I did.” You fret. Rusty’s expression softens

“Note taken.. Are you okay? Is something going on?” You ask him. His expression softens and he gives you a small reassuring smile. 

“I’m okay. I’m just worried about you is all. Just.. please, be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to disappear like how Mike did.” Rusty replies. He may have a warm and soft smile on his face but his eyes are riddled with concern. It’s a dead giveaway to you that he’s really not okay. You know he’s worried sick about you. You are well aware of the dangers. The red caboose, CB, has already tricked you once. You were lucky Rusty was able to stop him when he did. You dread to think about what may have happened if he hadn’t intervened when he did. You most certainly won’t make the same mistake twice, and refuse to trust him now.  

“I know, Rusty.. I know. I’m making sure to be careful. I learned my lessons from CB. I try my best to be as careful as I can. Don’t worry, Rusty. I’ll be okay.” Your smile returns as the gentle warmth returns to Rusty’s gaze and he gives a soft smile in return. 

…

Rusty feels a wave of relief wash over him as he hears you say that and he smiles softly, giving you a glimpse of those sharp teeth of his. He knows he has to watch over you even more closely now since the fuel rations have been reduced to almost half of the usual amount. The others have been growing restless, needing to forage or hunt, but the higher ups keep piling on the work. However, they still try to hunt or forage when they can. Rusty has recently resorted to feeding on the rodents that hide out near the freight sheds whenever he can. They aren’t much, but they are just enough to keep him going. He has been trying not to take too many to try and ensure the rodents are able to repopulate and leave some for the other rolling stock to feed on, but unfortunately, with a good few of the freight trucks, and even some of Greaseball’s gang feeding off the the rodent population, their food supply is almost already depleted, unable to keep up with the relentless predation. 

He knows it’s only a matter of time before he has to leave the train yard to go out and hunt. The others will be quick to follow too. He’d rather not have to fight for his share of prey, but if his survival depends on it, he will. The rodents aren’t enough to feed everyone. Rusty knows that. On top of that, stress has been building up with more work being piled on him and the others. Not to mention the fact he is barely eating enough to keep himself functional. It’s pushing him to his limits both mentally and physically. It’s only a matter of time before something or someone snaps and it will be just like the time Poppa attacked Mike all over again. If Rusty hadn’t been there to help Mike and keep Poppa distracted, Mike wouldn’t have made it, only for Mike to end up being killed and probably eaten by the dreaded diesel he was close to. It hurt to think about, but he knew Greaseball was only acting out of instinct. 

He winces ever so slightly as he felt his hunger gnawing at his very core like fangs. He knows he can’t let you be around him for too long, as each minute you’re around him is increasing the risk of him losing control, but he just wants to  make sure you’re okay for now. His hunger be damned. He can see if he find another one of the smaller animals he routinely sees around the yard. He can feel the beast beginning to claw at the deepest recesses of his mind, screaming at him to take the opportunity for a quick and easy meal, a means of guaranteeing his chance of survival. He quickly takes his focus off of you and looks up at the clock. He knows his break will be coming soon. He focuses on the clock behind you as he shifts anxiously ever so slightly. He needs to eat. He needs to hunt. It’s the only way he can survive at this point. 

He glances at you anxiously and whines softly like a large dog. He’s trying to keep himself from snapping but your scent and the sound of your heartbeat is almost enough to drive him mad. He considers simply leaving but he doesn’t want to push you away so suddenly. His gaze snaps towards you as he hears you speak.

…

“Are you okay?” You ask him. You almost flinch as the steamer’s amber gaze snaps towards you. Something is wrong. You know there is and it worries you. Rusty shifts a bit. His gaze never leaves you for a moment, as if he’s locked onto you. The warmth in his gaze is fading. You start to feel uneasy and glance around, seeing any escape routes you can take just in case he does happen to snap.

“Oh.. I just have to return to work soon. Maybe we can talk another time, hm? I promise I’ll see if I can get some more time set aside so I can talk to you a little more later, okay?” Rusty’s smile is forced and he fiddles with his thumbs. A lie. Rusty doesn’t like to lie to you or anyone for that matter and you know it. For him to lie outright like that.. something isn’t right. He glances back up the clock behind you. He knows. You noticed something is up and he’s not sure how to react to that. Rusty still continues to fight that unseen battle with himself deep within his own mind. The beast is starting to break free of its cage, and there’s only so much he can do about it now. 

You start to have a suspicion about what may be going on. You remember the fact the rations for the rolling stock are reduced, meaning Rusty wouldn’t be able to eat as much as he needs to in order to keep those instincts under wraps. That’s when it hits you. He’s losing control and he’s trying to redirect his attention away from you just in case he does lose control of himself. You know you may not have enough to give him a decent meal, but you can at least take the edge off of him just a tiny bit. It may just save not just yourself but the lives of your coworkers as well. 

“I can let you have my lunch. I can always go and always see if I can get something to eat from Dinah, or I can go out to eat at one of the restaurants if I need to. I wouldn’t mind it if I needed to bring something back from there too if you want. I can get you anything you want, honest.” You give him a reassuring smile. Rusty’s gaze slowly returns to you and he quickly nods. You don’t waste time and rush out of the freight yard and towards the parking lot outside of the parking lot. You unlock your car and grab your lunch box before you slam your car door and lock it before you race back into the train yard. You check your surroundings, making sure none of the other rolling stock could pose a potential danger to you before you race into the freight yard. You barely managed to race into the open gates before you trip over your own two feet and you fall, scaring your knee against the ground and drawing only a small amount of blood. 

You curse under your breath and hiss in pain as you feel the stinging sensation on one of your knees. You scramble back up to your feet and grab your lunch box once more as Rusty approaches you to help you. You look up to reassure him you're fine when you feel a knot begin to form in your stomach and your chest feels right as your heart races.

Rusty is looking right at you. The warmth in his amber gaze is no longer there as all trained civility fell from his face, revealing the beast dwelling deep within his very being. His amber eyes are now piercing and predatory as he lifts his lips into a snarl as he lets out a soft growl. The sound shakes you to your core as you feel it shake the ground beneath your feet. He begins to salivate as he takes one step closer to you, looking over you, making you feel that much smaller compared to him as those amber eyes bore deep within your soul. There is only one word that comes to your mind: run.

You immediately drop your lunch box and take off running as fast as you can. Your life depends on it more than ever.

…

The sweet scent of your blood hits his nose and he finally caves in. The beast finally broke free of its confines and is now running rampant. He's no longer the steamer you have once grown to adore. He's now the blood-thirsty monster his kind is known to be. He doesn't want to be this way at all, but he cannot deny what he truly is. He's a killing machine, designed to hunt, to kill. His hunger overrode any sense of civility he had left. He bares his teeth in an almost wolfish grin as he watches you run and his sharp predatory gaze becomes fixed on you.  His pupils contract to cat-like slits as he lets out a deep guttural growl from within his chest before he gives chase, taking off like a shot with a great roar. He quickly catches up to you, yet he keeps a small distance between you and him. He’s drawing it out, wanting nothing more than to relish the chase and the primal fear of his prey. He knows once he catches you, there will be no mercy for you. For now, he’s going to enjoy this moment, savor the chase.

…

You hear the steamer beginning to gain on you. Rusty’s hot breath rolling down the back of your neck as he growls deep in his chest, a sound you feel through your feet and in your chest. Oddly enough, he doesn’t pounce on you or grab you. It’s as if he’s toying with you, knowing you have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. He has you right where he wants you and that alone is a terrifying thought. You frantically look around to see if you can find any coworkers nearby. It looks as if they too are on a rather late break. Somehow you are not surprised at this. The higher ups have been getting worse when it comes to that. They’re trying to make everyone work more with less payment, and in the rolling stock’s case, less food or fuel, which makes things worse.

You quickly turn a corner and for a moment, Rusty stumbles and reaches out for you. You feel the wind of the sheer force of his arm swinging at you. You glance behind you to see if he’s given up. Rusty snarls in frustration and opens his fists. Razor sharp claws unsheathe in place of fingernails. You remember Mike telling you steamers don’t have nowhere near as much control over their claws than the other types of rolling stock. The claws only sheathe if their hands are closed into fists. Their hand muscles aren’t made to sheathe and unsheathe the claws like the others. Steamers are built for the chase, built for the kill. Primal fear rushes through you as you look away and scramble for a place to hide.

…

Rusty snarls and opens his fists. He sinks his claws into the concrete to slow himself down for a moment. His nostrils flare as his eyes smolder with rage as he sees the fear in your eyes. He’s not about to be outmaneuvered by a human, such an easy prey item to him. He quickly recovers and picks up speed once more. This time, he has the intent to snatch you and to go for the kill. His mouth waters at the mere thought of sinking his teeth into your tender throat, wanting to aim for the windpipe to end this swiftly. He flexes his claws as he begins to gain on you, eager to snatch a quick and easy meal.

He can smell your fear, hear your racing heartbeat. It’s almost torture to him. He can’t wait any longer. He needs food and he needs it now.

….

Tears well up in your eyes as you begin to grow tired. You know you can’t run forever, meanwhile the dreaded steamer is quickly closing in. You have to hide somewhere and fast. You finally spot the freight shed and use some of the last bit of your energy to sprint towards it. You try to open the doors, but they’re far too heavy, or they are locked. You’re left shaking and terrified. You see Poppa’s shed is right next to it and you check behind you. Rusty is just about to pounce on you as he’s mere inches from you. The feral look in his eyes is something that will never leave your memories. That’s not the Rusty you know. That’s the true nature of the steamers, wild, predatory and famished. Rusty’s jaws open, revealing a set of teeth specifically to tear into prey. His canines are the longest you’ve ever seen, rivaling Greaseball’s. 

You quickly duck down between his legs as he pounces, slamming right into the doors of the shed and he roars. It echoes throughout the freight yard and shakes you to your very core. The ground shakes beneath your feet and you cover your ears as they begin to ring. Rusty quickly whips around to face you. His expression is one of a feral snarl and he growls deep in his chest. The anger, the rage in his eyes is truly terrifying. He lunges for you and you quickly slip between the small gap between Poppa’s shed and the freight shed as you scream for help.

Rusty’s claws dig into the sides of both sheds as his amber eyes smolder with rage and ravenous hunger as he snaps his jaws at you. He snarls as he begins to salivate, as if he’s anticipating finally sinking his teeth into you. His claws leave deep marks in the sides of sheds as he tries to force his way between the two sheds. You shrink back as one of his hands barely misses you, the claws nearly grazing your skin. Rusty pulls his arms back and inhales deeply. You see the fire in his firebox in his chest rising as you feel the temperature rise rapidly. Rusty almost has a wolfish grin, as if he’s figured out how to finally get to you. His powerful jaws open, revealing the fiery glow at the back of his throat. It glows brighter as the fire rushes up his esophagus.

You begin to lose hope before the doors to the freight shed slam open. It all happens so fast. You see a large blue and white blur crash into Rusty just as the steamer unleashed a blast of flame. Most of it was redirected away from you, but the mere heat coming from it is enough to burn your arms as you try to shield yourself from the immense heat. You cry out in pain and hear the steamer’s screech. It’s a sound that curdles the blood. You sob and cover your ears. Dustin, the big hopper, rushes back to check on you. He’s a mess. His body riddles with scratches and bites wounds. His own mouth has traces of blood on it. He almost looks sick. 

“Run! Go! I’ll keep him busy! Go find Wrench!” Dustin cries out just as Rusty attacks him from behind, prompting a screech from Dustin. His expression turns one of rage as Dustin snarls and delivers a powerful blow to Rusty’s side. Rusty screeches and Dustin quickly pins him against the wall freight shed, letting out his own growl. The sound puts Rusty’s growl to shame and you begin to understand why the diesels never really messed with Dustin that much. He’s the only one of the freight capable of standing a chance against a steamer. You nod and gather your courage before darting out from your hiding place and towards the gates. Once you reach the gates, you check behind you. 

You watch as Rusty slowly begins to soften as Dustin still has him pinned. Dustin pleads with Rusty to come back to him in hopes of bringing the steamer back from his feral state. Rusty blinks a few times and panics. Dustin quickly releases him and Rusty asks Dustin something in a panic. Dustin points to you and answers him. Rusty’s expression turns to sheer horror as he sees you so terrified. His gaze shifts to your arms, where you’ve been burned. Tears well up in his eyes and he looks as if he’s going to vomit. He covers his mouth and quickly races off, as if he can’t handle the guilt of looking at you. You turn your gaze forward and open the gates before you rush off to find Wrench. You know this won’t be reported. They never are. You begin to have an idea as to what happened to Mike, but you simply can’t face the truth.

[zelda-posting]

tears of the kingdom could have been so good if it were built around like, its story or its characters instead of being a clunky shell to show off the mechanic no one asked for that it forces you to use

[omarwolaeth]

Might be strange sounding, but the card reveals/banlists always come in 2 different perspectives for me, irrelevant of which banlist I'm playing under; because I write fics, I have to contend with the banlist at times (a majority of the time it's based on the sort of half-tcg, half-ocg Master Duel banlist with Anime Specific Additions.)

So when new cards come out I have to judge them not only by what I can figure out from their effects and traits (combined with what's currently meta, and if there's anything that wants to play the new cards, whilst being mindful of banlist differences), I also have the joy of internally discussing the value of a deck when its in a fictional setting.

I don't think anyone normally thinks about if a deck's theme is strong enough to tie a character to it, let alone if a deck's theme is too strong and tying a character to it is like Akihiko Sanada's obsession with protein in anything that isn't mainline persona (Like the Q games.)

Also makes engines less appealing.

[mishkakagehishka]

Maybe i'm just an artistic soul, but i truly do believe that art is what makes us human, what sets us apart from animals. Nothing more ingrained in our souls than creating, even if you don't consider yourself to have talent for art, you know you have created in your life. To devalue art is to devalue humanity.

[nikkisticki]

You know what you all get to suffer another pointless post about reddit and what I call the Defensive Wave

Whenever a game has common critiques that a large share of players agree on (generally bearing discontent about the state of the game) places like reddit will undergo this amusing shift of dialogue where a post or posts will get some hype, usually looking like

This [content] isn't well done because of (reasons)

Instead of the people who disagree actually trying to prove their stance, within 24 hours another post (or posts) will arrive making counter arguments without actually making anything resembling a real defense. Instead, it'll just be:

Well I loved [content] and your opinion is just an opinion, it doesn't make it objectively bad!

This is happening on r/FFXIV right now and has been since 6.5 launched three days ago, with that exact post chain happening yet again. I'll save you the braincells and just tell you that none of the posts or comments are actually discussing the issues presented, nor are they even acknowledging them. Instead, it's a direct critique of the ones who complained for speaking, usually while engaging in sideways manipulations of reality to pretend they are simply mad because of x and y reasons.

Ex. The Cyberpunk subreddit claiming people are just mad that the game didn't hold up to the players lofty expectations, ignoring that the devs promised those exact things.

This will continue until something draws the discourse away, smothering any chance of the complaints to be taken seriously while also silencing those who wish to speak under the false positivity of...attacking people for not agreeing with you.

I've seen it happen dozens of times and it's at the point that I can predict the posts of a subreddit before they happen. This isn't difficult to do mind you, people aren't particularly bright and will readily waste a few minutes complaining about those mean people pointing out the issues! It's just human nature to be a fuckwit, I suppose.

If people were slightly more intelligent, they'd realize discourse and negative comments are important for the health of an ongoing game, but no no we gotta act like everyone loves this shit in case (Dev) is sad!

Of course repeated negative discourse cycles exist, but those are a separate matter.

[weirdowithaquill]

Idk if you are a fan of the Auld Lang Syne series on YouTube but I think it would be very funny if the special guest were a member of Her Majesty’s Railway Inspectorate (Inspection Car) (Not technically an engine). Whatever you’ve come up with im sure it’s great tho lol!

I haven't watched that series yet - I'll have to go check it out! (Is that the one that looks a bit like Simon A.C. Martin's British Railway Stories?). As for your guess, sorry - but it's not an inspection car.

I'd also love to know who said that the special guest was an engine. I was pretty vague about our mystery guest (who is now on Sodor!). It'll be interesting to see what people come up with before I upload Chapter 4 tomorrow!

[singsweetmelodies]

i've had beep beep by little mix stuck in my head the ENTIRE DAY ahahahaha arghhhhhhh