#a dozen years

[tgr-2x5-roleswap-au]

You've Got Mail - Prologue

Prologue - Opening Letter (April 1964)

Word Count: 88

Happy 2/5!!! :]

~

“Hello, Edward!

It’s me, James! I hope this letter reaches you. My crew is writing this for me.

I know we only talked once but I would really like it if we could be “pen pals,” as my driver calls it.  We can be friends writing to one another from time to time. Would you like that? That is if you can find a way?

 I did like talking to you that day, and I hope we can talk some more.

Sincerely,

James (North Western Railway No. 5)”

~

Notes:

As always, no posting schedule. HOWEVER, updates will purposely be slow because I need to build up EoSR for things to make sense here. TGR 2x5 Roleswap is an AU of EoSR. The chapters I have planned as of writing this, 1 - 7, won't cross over into significant events from EoSR but it'll still be slow. I'm trying to keep it consistent and cohesive here.

Speaking of which, I wrote chapter 1 (and more) before the prologue. Classic muxse move.

I have so many ideas for this fic to the point.

Yes, I know how it ends. Been knowing since the previous installment.

As mentioned in the pinned post, the chapter formatting is going to be somewhat different. This is my first original chapter fic (I'm not counting TGR but There's a Roleswap because its basically a re-write :p). Expect a variety of short and long chapters.

[the-rewritten-railway-au]

Rhys

🩷 Autumn 1899; December 1968

CW/TW: Pre-transition period (Edward), hostile work environment, gaslighting, mentioned character death, mentioned workplace violence

Buckled Tracks and Bumpy Trucks - Season 20 Episode 17 (edited)

Word Count: 1,823

Someone else was his first love interest.

A/N: "Rhys" is pronounced "reese." I didn't come up with that, btw. His crew did.

~

In the chilly autumn weather, passengers walked about Barrow-in-Furness Station. The leaves cluttering the ground crunched as folks stepped on them, awaiting the next passenger train.

A sharp whistle, reminiscent of the squawks of seagulls flying by coast line, went off in the distance, pulling in the passengers’ attention to the Indian-red tender engine approaching. She steamed into the station with a range of blue coaches with white trim, easing to a stop.

She was a Class 21, a class of engines dedicated to express passenger services. The sunlight reflected against the brass trim of her splashers and brass dome, giving it a gleaming shine. The oldest of the Class 21s greeted the awaiting passengers with a warm smile, as steam gently spewed from her chassis.

The weather was nice that day. There was no wind. Just the gentle breeze against her frames. It was like a soothing touch, which she appreciated.

Coming in the opposite direction, a small four-driver tender engine came by, hauling a goods train for someone else to take care of. Once he blew his whistle, the eldest Larger Seagull groaned. She would be foolish to not recognize it.

“Guid day, Coppernob,” she greeted through clenched teeth, trying to sound as nice as possible. Her crew reminding her to be nice to the elderly engine had become a daily routine, despite how arrogant and bossy he was. She didn’t need to turn the scolding into a daily thing.

Coppernob wasn't taking her forced greeting. “Don't treat me like a fool, young engine!” he hissed. “Such disrespect. You're better than that.”

“I wid if ye'd just go awa’,” she grumbled, “and didnae go around, gossipin’ aboot me.”

“It’s for the well-being of others, Alice,” he reminded her as her crew hushed whispers, telling her to knock it off. “We can't have your reckless behavior ruin the reputation and workflow of the Furness.”

Alice scoffed. “It’s always aboot thaim wit’ ye.”

“Bunny!” hissed her driver.

Before Coppernob reprimanded her, a Furness Railway 7 class steamed up to the platform adjacent to Alice’s. Unlike Coppernob, he had splashers, designed in a style similar to hers.

“Good day, you two,” he greeted. “Anything new I missed?”

“Nah! Nah!” Alice squawked out, immediately blushing out of embarrassment from the slip-up. She ignored the piercing glare from FR No. 3. “Nawthing new, Rhys.”

Rhys hummed, not convinced. A Furness engine would have to be a fool to not notice the conversation from kilometers away. And not to notice how furious the glare directed towards him was. However, he chose not to poke any further. Yet.

Alice’s guard blew his whistle, interrupting the thoughts going through the engines’ minds.

“Och!” she perked up. “Thon’s me. Guid-bye, Rhys!” With a quick whistle that resounded throughout the station, Alice departed from Barrow-in-Furness, heading north on her railway line, the Cumbrian Coast Line.

Once she was gone, Rhys sighed before glancing at Coppernob. “What is it you have against me?”

Coppernob didn't respond. Instead, he stormed off, leaving the other confused.

…

About a week later, Alice and Rhys met again but at Roose Station. The latter had finished telling a story that left Alice squawking.

There was just something about spending time with Rhys that comforted Alice, making her feel warm and appreciated. It was different to the way her sisters would comfort or check up on her every evening, especially if she’d had to defend one of them from one of the other Furness engines.

It was different, yet she couldn’t figure it out.

As she calmed down, a saddle tank engine pulled in, hauling a small freight train of steel rails, coming from the Barrow Haematite Steelworks.

“Diane!” exclaimed Rhys, noticing the black tank engine. “How’s the Steelworks going for you?”

Diane gave a quick smile to Alice, who smiled nervously, before replying. “Exhausting!” she exclaimed. “But it's good work!”

“Good to hear, dear! Good to hear!”

“You know, I’m surprised the old horse hasn't tried physically separating you both,” Diane noted. “He complains about you two whenever he runs out of things to whine about.”

Alice hummed, her freckled face crunching at the mention of Coppernob. “I din’ get why he diz’nae want me near Rhys. He diz’nae make sense aboot it.”

“Remember, dear,” Rhys assured. “He just… wants the best for you.”

The Larger Seagull frowned.“Well, he huz a funny way o’ showin’ it.”

Just then, her guard blew his whistle. With a heavy sigh, she bid farewell to the other two engines and promptly left.

Once she was gone, Diane shot a glare at Rhys. “Have you told her?”

The 7 class winced.

“Rhys!” she scolded.

“I know! I just-” He took a deep breath. “It’s too soon. We don't know when.”

“But it’ll be soon, Rhys!”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow, I promise!”

“You better!” she exclaimed before steaming off to Ravenglass, leaving her friend to go his way with the daunting thoughts in his head. His crew tried to soothe him, but it only made him feel more guilty.

…

“Alice! Stay away from that engine!”

Her safety valve was ready to burst. Earlier that morning, she fended off one of the Seagulls, her predecessors, up at Foxfield after seeing them pester one of her baby sisters. The utter annoyance those older engines could be.

And then they wonder why they could’nae get me and ma sisters tae ‘behave’ being the thought to go rampant in her mind after every confrontation.

“Bug’ aff! I'm no’ dealin’ wit’ ye today!” yelled Alice before storming off.

Coppernob chased her down. “Listen to me, young lass-!”

“Shut it!” she screamed. “Yer raps ma knittin’!”

“Watch your tongue-!”

“Or whit?” she taunted. “Whit'r ye goin’ tae dae? I'm no’ afraid o’ ye!”

“I want you to get away from that engine…” hissed Number 3, the words seething like painfully hot steam. “And you will do it as soon as you see him.”

“Ye cannae control me!” Alice argued. “Why is it thon when I’m finally doin’ better, it’s all wrong?”

“It wouldn't be wrong if you weren’t acting like that with him!”

Still furious, she looked at him confused. “Like whit? Whit’re ye implying?” she questioned.

Coppernob stared at her in horror, eyes going wide.

The look brought tension to Alice’s frame. “Copper-?”

“You can't even see it, can you?”

“See whit-?”

“You’re too far gone,” he mourned.

“Excuse me-?”

“Stay away from Rhys,” he hissed. “I don't want to find out that he’s broken the same way you are.” With that, he steamed away, returning to his work leaving a stunned Bunny behind.

“Broken…?”

…

That evening, Alice returned to her shed, only to find Rhys, resting in a siding. His crew were smoking cigarettes, unaware of the larger engine. Coppernob’s words had stung her to the core. She spaced out momentarily when Rhys called out for her.

“Alice! There you are,” he hollered, alerting his crew. They quickly climbed aboard into his cab. “Listen. I-”

“Am I broken?”

“...Pardon?”

“Am I broken, Rhys?” she asked again, looking Rhys straight into his eyes. “Coppernob said I’m broken.”

“What-?” He was dumbfounded as he approached the young Victorian engine. “No, of course not, Alice! Don't listen to Coppernob. His age is getting to him,” he reassured her.

“Okay…” was all she said before letting the silence overtake.

Her mood upset Rhys, making him rethink his choice. Should he? He didn't want to upset the young engine even further, but she needed to know.

It would be worse if she went about her life, not knowing what happened to her dear friend.

“Did… ye want tae say somethin’?” asked Alice after a while of silence. “Sorry if I-”

“I'm being withdrawn.”

Bronze pupils shrunk as her eyes went wide. “Ye're what-?”

“I'm being withdrawn, Alice. I don't know exactly when… but it might be soon,” he stated, carefully wording his sentences.

“Soon? How long have you known?”

“Alice-”

“How. Long?” she asked sternly. Her eyes burned in frustration and despair.

Rhys sighed with guilt. “A month.”

“And you didn't tell me?”

“I don't want to break you.”

“Break me?” she scoffed, offended as tears brewed up and her voice began to crack. “I'm not fragile, Rhys!”

“But you're still growing out of your old behavior!” he exasperated as both crews held onto the brakes of their respective engines. Alice’s crew held extra tight, making sure they didn’t let go as their engine tended to be hostile, especially out of emotion. “Alice, please promise me you won't go back to your old self.”

“Rhys-!”

“Alice, please,” he begged. “Please, do it for your sisters. For Diane. For me. The board isn't going to tolerate it any further, and you know that.”

At the mention of her little sisters, Alice agreed. “I promise, Rhys,” she sobbed. “I promise.”

…

“I hope ye're happy,” Alice sneered. It was the following morning and she’d come across Coppernob at Barrow-in-Furness once again.

“What?” scoffed Coppernob.

“Rhys is bein’ withdrawn.”

Shock went through the older engine's frames. “Whatever for?”

“I dinnae ken. Go ask him yerself,” she sneered.

“Alice!”

“Dae me a favor and boil yer smokebox,” she hissed before storming off, jerking the coaches by accident. The sentient ones yelped and her passengers were startled as her crew scolded her severely, and Coppernob called out for her.

She blocked out the sounds of the world around her as her four driving wheels pushed her north towards Foxfield.

.

.

.

Later that week, Rhys was withdrawn. He was able to bid farewell to Diane but not Alice. Diane was the one to break the news to Alice.

Alice broke her promise.

And Edward made a realization.

Rhys, I’m so-

“Edward?”

Said engine jerked, accidentally jostling his trucks.

A few days had passed since he left the Steamworks with his pistons fully repaired. He’d spent a week waiting for the parts to arrive.

“Did you even hear what I was saying?” James asked again, concerned as the extra Troublesome Trucks Edward hauled yelped and complained.

“Guidness, naw,” Edward replied, guilt building on his panic. His freckled cheeks burned. “Och, dear. I’m sae sorry-!”

“Are you okay?” James interrupted. “You spaced out for a bit.”

“Er, somewhit?”

“We can stop-”

“Naw, naw!” he exclaimed. “No need to! It's just- You reminded me of something.”

“Something you'll tell me?” James asked with a glimmer of curiosity in his heterochromatic eyes.

“N-No’ today…” He looked down. “Sorry.”

“Oh…”

“B-But-!” Edward stammered, “what about your adventures on the Mainland, hm?”

“You're gonna have to be more specific, Ed,” chuckled James.

The smaller engine pieced together what he could recall from the conversation that had taken place. “That incident with the twins! Up in Whitehaven?”

James winced playfully. “Oh, what a mess that one was-”

As James continued to ramble on, Edward's mind focused in. But not after he processed what he'd realized.

I wis in love wit’ Rhys, and I didnae even ken…

~

AND then his twin baby sisters were built the following year and things are all good again, right...?

...right? :)

Well damn, i guess I did end up writing a story before the 1910s ovo ANYWAYS, first EoSR story of 2024 and it ended up being a ship-verse story but its angst-

very normal muxse behaviour

i got to actually sit down and work on Edward's backstory a little more. It was EXTREMELY vague before so hopefully this starts adding up, especially for "You've Got Mail." (i'm a bit all over the place with my fics)

Being the oldest of a new generation is already a lot of pressure but how would it feel when its tradition for them to try to shape you in a way that is deemed appropriate in your railway. This usually works but Edward was different.

Notes:

Rhys had zero romantic interest in Edward.

Rhys' basis: 16 - FR Class A3 0-4-0 - built 1858 by W. Fairbairn & Co., Manchester - 1899 withdrawn

Introduced Diane (FR 17 "A5" class) and Old Coppernob (FR 3 "A2" class) sooner than I thought ovo Oh well.

The family relations on the Furness are a bit odd because the A2, A3, and A5 don't have a specific designer, just like the K2s. Just know that Edward isn't related to them. To my understanding, the Furness Railway 21s were designed by Sharp, Stewart & Co. Neither Pettigrew or Mason designed them. Same goes for said classes. Only the A5s were built by Sharp, Stewart & Co. but in the original Manchester location.

^ that being said, Diane and Edward are probably distant cousins for that reason, but Old Coppernob and Rhys aren't related to them. :p

Rhys translates to "ardor" in Welsh. Ardor means a strong intense feeling, which i think perfectly describes what engines feel when they're in love. :)

there was a lot of back and forth on previous love interests for these two. at one point, i considered Goldilocks to be James' first love interest but went against because i just thought it was weird and it would imply that Edward is a replacement for Goldilocks. I did not want that so i scrapped it.

Edward and Old Coppernob are basically the failed unintentional attempt of a healthy father-son relationship. They're both at fault for this. (yes, Edward has daddy issues. it just kinda happened but it also feels like it makes sense considering his role as the oldest and the issues he has)

guys i dont JUST write angst, i swear- :((((

evidence:

ps if i made you sad, read "He Squawks!" (one of my favorites /bias) it has pre-2x5 fluff + silliness (not the main focus but the silliness is :p the screenshot is unrelated :p)

[galaxseacreature]

It's my 12 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[egophiliac]

(looks at upcoming card releases)

I'm in danger :)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

genuinely is my brain erasing itself or is google/tumblr censoring that post about notre dame and old growth forests.

[tiredandoptimistic]

I love that even though Klinger is known for his many elaborate outfits, you can still recognize a lot of his day dresses that get reworn throughout the series. He's not just a bit, the dresses are what he wears every day and most of them are meant to be comfortable and practical as well as beautiful. His wardrobe is pretty magical, but it's at least somewhat tethered to the reality of the army and his limited tent space.

[cyphyra]

MILF Bunny

[cheekinpermission]

I'm only *checks notes* five days overdue. Whoopsie.

[ulenehlervu]

a year in josie fanart

[mobius-m-mobius]

#choose your remix 😅

[tgr-2x5-roleswap-au]

You've Got Mail - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - The Other Victorian

Paint Pots and Queens - Season 4 Episode 23

Word Count: 1,191

Fought with my sanity with this chapter smh. i blame the original idea i had. it just wasn't working or reasonable to have

~

“There you go, dear! A perfect spot for a Victorian like you.”

Edward agreed as he mused over his temporary environment and the volunteers left, whispering about.

For one, it was far away from Old Coppernob. The copper firebox was smack dab in the center of the facility. The Larger Seagull could still see him but, thankfully, Coppernob couldn't, facing the opposite direction.

But what he was more pleased about was that he was surrounded by other engines from his era, from his time. From the older Victorians to the ones built around the turn of the century, he figured he could socialize with them. Maybe it'll be easier mingling with those from his time.

Maybe.

…

It was not.

Once the volunteers left, the four surrounding engines greeted him. Voices ranged from high-pitched but slow to soft yet bubbly. Despite their politeness, FR 21 was overwhelmed. It didn't help that he was placed between two of them, one in the front and another in the back, right next to a wall.

“Who are you?” One of them asked once the quick greetings stopped. They were green, a similar shade to the other three, but their shape was drastically different. Their cylinders were outside and connected to their smokebox, powering a massive single pair of drivers.

This must be the Stirling Single! She looked similar to the one from the North Western Railway. “Furness Railway Twenty-Ane,” the Larger Seagull quickly stammered, just so he wouldn't overthink such a simple question. “Edward, as well.”

“Ah, you have a name! Well, then, I'm the old Great Northern Railway Number One,” she beamed, her wrinkles and dimples becoming prominent. “But you may call me, Esmeralda. It's lovely to see another pre-grouping engine survive. Not many are around, you know?”

The Furness red engine hummed, agreeing.

“Oh, don’t be shy!” exclaimed the single non-green engine of the group, unaware of startling Edward. He was ochre yellow with white and bronze accents. “Gladstone! A pleasure to meet you, lad!”

“N-Nice tae meet ye, too!”

“I'm the North Eastern's number fourteen-sixty-three!” piped up the NER E5 class.

“And I'm their number sixteen-twenty-one. Oh! Same numbers!” The NER M class giggled. “What a coincidence.”

“B-But-” Oh wait- “Nevermind,” mumbled the FR 21 class. They meant the last two. They're being literal. 

“Now, don't overwhelm the poor thing!” Edward almost scoffed. ‘Poor thing?’ He wasn't a newly built engine. He's over half a century old! But a quick look over at the ones in his range of vision changed his mind as they seemed older. “How about you tell us a little about yourself, hm?” suggested Gladstone.

“Och- well- I'm frae the Furness Railway…” His train of thought froze. What else was he supposed to say? He wasn't sure he wanted to tell them about his time in the forest. Being a part of the Scottish greenery in a territory far away from home… The critters, the twigs…

The rust…

He was glad no one mentioned it. It must not be as noticeable as he thought.

The thought soothed him. Yet he realized how hypocritical he was being. Just days ago, he told another engine he'd just met. It was someone who initially didn't take a liking to him. Edward was engrossed in the conversation that day. He felt comfortable sharing with someone who understood—to some degree—how he felt. 

“Edward?” FR 21 perked up. “Is everything alright?”

Edward hummed. “Aye. It’s awrite.”

“Mmm, if you say so.”

Silence followed for a bit. The occasional clank of metal was heard as volunteers wandered around, checking up on the engines. There seemed to be another conversation happening elsewhere but it could barely be heard. They were either whispering or just far away. No one from the group could tell.

“So,” squeaked the M class, “how was the Railway Show? We heard you won!”

“Oh, yes, please tell!” Excitement creaked from Esmeralda.

“Och, well-” Easy enough! “Twis’ nice.”

“Nice? It was a close finish! That must've been exciting!”

“It- uh-” The clear memory of the Canadian Pacific running across the track, nearly knocking off the poor, little diesel into the pit of a turntable, came back. “It wis.”

“Weren't there preserved engines?” asked the E5. “Estelle said they'd go there.”

Edward frowned, confused. “...Who?” I don’t remember hearing an “Estelle.”

NER 1463 gasped. “Goodness, my apologies! The Caledonian Single! A blue single with white lining.”

Lips pursed, and then a bell rang. “Och, them!” Ah, the other single he spoke to. They were sweet, but they didn't speak much. It was comforting yet odd.

“Is something the matter? Did Estelle say something?” NER 1463 glanced at Esmeralda.

And before they could continue, the green single fumed, “Don't you start!”

“Esmeralda!” scolded Gladstone.

“You know it’s her fault!” Her face wrinkled as fury covered it.

“And you play right along…”

“Just who does-”

“This normal?” Edward whispered.

“‘Fraid so,” replied NER 1621.

“-she think she is? I was elated to know, to see that singles would come back, and she had the nerve to disrespect a pioneer-!”

.

.

.

“-As such, I’m here to straighten your behavior.” The eldest of the Seagulls strolled closer to the side of the oldest Larger Seagull. The Seagull was smaller, but 21 felt like a cornered mouse. “If you don’t listen, then say goodbye to your sisters. Leaving them behind because of your selfish behavior! So unlike an eldest.”

.

.

.

“You'll burst your valve-” continued Gladstone. The engines remained unaware of Edward's jolt.

“I'm not even in steam!” Esmeralda protested.

“Mmm, you'd be surprised…” Gladstone sighed as Esmeralda continued, bringing the attention back to the newcomer. “What were we on about?”

“...The railway show?”

“Ah, yes. Estelle, we speak of.” He cleared his pipes. “Did something happen?”

“Nothin’… They were quiet.”

Amused, Gladstone pressed on. “Have you met them before?”

“Noo…” Edward squinted. “Just seemit…” He stopped. He was one to speak. He himself was quiet these days since… that, so he shouldn't be judging. “Never mind.”

“Odd?” Gladstone hummed. “Estelle has changed since they were preserved. It's nothing out of the ordinary… It happens to everyone.”

As soon as those words came out, the atmosphere changed. The group made no noise, so quiet that a pen dropping from the opposite side of the building could be heard. Even the voices from the other group went quiet.

I've hit a sore spot. “S-Sorry… I-”

“Haven't you been to the show before?” piped Gladstone. “I do remember hearing the volunteers make a mention of such.”

“Och, yes.” The guilt of ruining the atmosphere bubbled within. “I huv.”

“Do tell. You've yet to fully introduce yourself, mate.”

“Well…” He might as well. It seemed that they wanted to move on from it as if it never happened. Edward could do that, so from there, Edward told Gladstone about the time he went to the Great Railway at the turn of the 20th century. His sentences weren't complete, his words were jumbled about, and he refused to make eye contact, but that didn't push away the other engines from tuning in. The little tale was a welcome starter to a new and comforting conversation.

~

important!!!

if you're looking to find the table of contents of all the chapters, i made a page on the desktop version with all of the chapters, including the ones for this story!

Otherwise, here's the link! (TGR 2x5 Roleswap AU - Table of Contents)

And here's the first batch of new characters!

GNR 1 "Esmeralda" - GNR No 1 (GNR A1 class"Stirling Single")

NER 1463 - NER E5 class

NER 1621 - NER D17 class

LBSCR 214 Gladstone - LBSCR B1 class

Notes:

Edward going to the Great Railway Show before this one was part of the original plot of "TGR but There's a Roleswap - Chapter 7: The Furness Railway 21" but I scrapped it, along with other revelations that just didn't make sense.

EDIT 09/01/2024: Fixed the links!

[impossiblefeat]

All of Espio's White Space animations from Sonic Generations.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 203

Another Hydra prompt! Because I am enjoying the designs I’ve made lol. And perhaps it’s a bit inspired by @radiance1 ‘s different dragon prompts too. 

So they’ve succeeded! They’ve managed to combine their powers- with a bit of shapeshifting helped along by so many ghost allies- and become a giant duck-you dragon! Well, originally they were going to do something else, but they couldn’t agree on an animal, so dragon it was! 

And how mighty they are! They’re giant, absolutely massive- dwarfing the couple of skyscrapers still in Amity. Damages via ghost attacks and general sparring made it where people really didn’t want to rebuild those types of buildings. 

But anyway, dragon! Them! They’re absolutely stunning! And did they mention powerful? Because boy oh boy, are they powerful. The GIW’s guns do practically nothing against their combined might, and barriers shatter before them! 

The uh, issue is that they erm… can’t turn back. Which is fine, they’ve all sort of outlived most of their generation- thank you possessions and ecto-contamination, it’s just a tiny bit of an adjustment. But really it’s not too bad, and someone needs to stop the GIW from trying to poke their heads into Amity. Like it’s been a solid couple of generations, it’s time to stop, thanks. 

Actually they’ve been a bit quiet. Meh, that surely isn’t a problem. Probably. Honestly they’re all going to use the opportunity to sprawl out where the school yard once was, their favorite place to sun their scales. Huh. Usually more people are around now that they think about it- or really, as Paulina points out, sharpening her fangs on one of the rocks. 

…

How long had they been sleeping, because it couldn’t have been that long. One of them was always awake, they slept in shifts after all! Yet there are things missing now as they patrol the skies, both Wes and Tucker pointing out specific buildings that the others didn’t particularly notice usually that now lay empty. 

Hm. 

Oh. That is a… strong barrier there. A really strong barrier actually. Pfft, they can take it! They’ve shredded every barrier together before- Ow. 

…

Okay this might be a bit of a problem. Shit. 

You want a general size reference? :P

[potatobugz]

I CANT BELIEVE PROFESSOR CHAOS IS AN NFT GUY.

[eyeballsoup7310]

Is this that pink pony club that everyone keeps talking about

[little-pondhead]

The Curse Of Hope

_

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.