#blue mountain quarry

[lomotunes2008]

Blue Mountain Mystery but Skarloey is voiced by Michael Brandon

[pinkyberet]

The Switch (Human Luke And Millie)

“But I Can’t Wait To Get Home!” “Me Too!”

[brendambois]

Here is a small headcannon

When the skr decided to connect to the old msr slate quarry, Duke, Handel, and Sam were ecstatic. Once the line had opened, the slate quarry became the most profitable slate quarry on the island. On the other buffer, the small raggedy blue mountain quarry was running on dimes money wise, and the mine engine and a faceless garatt engine wise. In all honesty, the bmq could make loads with their iconic namesake, "The Blue Mountains", due to te loads of slate in the hills of those peaks, but they were never in range because of their being only one engine who was able to either pull trains to lay rail or/and deliver the heavy slate to the harbours (where they have a contract for slate to

Scotland) so the trains would have to be juggled on a tightrope over lava type schedule. After a year and a half. The bmq had run down to their last $10, and the owner Jefferson Rheneas, was about to close up shop, when the manager of the Skarlowey said that they had a contract for the bmq, due to a spectral incident at the old quarry. The contract, you may ask, is to bring slate from the quarry to a construction site at Crovan's Gate to build a works for reparing, making and upgrading/updating any and all types of steam (fireless included), in return, the Skarlowey would by an engine for the bmq along with their purchase for a narrow guadge works shunter from Cuba. During the constructed of the newly nicknamed "Steamworks", the skr sent daily trains to work on building the quarry up, and during the calmest of days when trains were minimal, the skr would sometimes do construction trains to help build the quarry faster. A week before the new arrivals, "The Blue Mountain Quarry" finally finished the extention construction, and the morning of the arrivals the soon to be officially named "Stamworks" was finished. Unfortunately, during unloading of the new engines an incident occurred where the Cuban engine was accidentally knocked in to a shallow patch of water by the new Irish engine who would go to work at the quarry. Drowning in guilt that he had just killed an engine, the new quarry engine left for work as soon as he was steamed by his crew, who had been allowed to come with their engine. Luckily the yellow Cuban engine was fished out before any majior damage was done, and he got to atend the name christening and become the works very first repair and paint job. Que events of Blue mountain mystery. To this day still, the Steamworks get regular visits and the BMQ is the most profitable quarry on the Skarlowey Railway taking regular slate trains to Ulfstead castle making a tidy profit and getting regular trains of brakeroom snacks in return.

[mossmosss]

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 1 of the Blood Ties Series.

When Your Line is Crossed, I Get Off

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: The Quarry

Warnings: Poorly written smut (p in v), slight mention of injuries

Summary: Sometimes, you just need to let off some steam and you have your very own ill-tempered, complicated redneck to help with that goal.

A/N: Help, I’m stuck on Quarry/CDC/Farm Daryl and he’s got me in a chokehold. I like it.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

*gif is not mine

It should have made you feel ashamed; guilty, even. You were putting your family at risk. You had been for weeks. The Turn had brought out the worst in humanity. Rapists, murderers, plunderers. You had heard at least one story of each every single run into the city you made. 

You despised the city, even before the world went to shit. You had grown up in the woods. Being from a small no-name town meant sometimes it was necessary to find your own food. You helped your dad with a small garden, helped him hunt. You took over doing both when the car accident took his leg. Your mom had split when you were a toddler, so your dad was everything. You made sure he knew that by stepping up when the time came for you to care for him. 

You had made sure everything he needed was packed before grabbing anything of your own. The two of you had left to meet up with your aunt and two uncles in the mountains. The further from strangers you were, the better. Family came first. 

That’s why the tree bark scraping your back while eight inches of redneck from a nearby camp slammed into your pussy should have made you feel all sorts of bad. 

Daryl was everything your father had told you to stay away from, but when you stumbled across one another while tracking the same deer, you felt drawn to him in a way that was unfamiliar. He had slung several insults at you that you had boomeranged with some clever ones of your own. You had relented that day, retreating toward your own camp with a watchful eye over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t followed. 

You met him twice more after that. He never seemed to hunt in the same area, which made sense. It also meant that you were bound to run into one another again. It was the second meeting when it changed. He was more tense and you could sense something was different. Even after only a couple of chance encounters, you didn’t feel threatened. So, you did what any girl in your situation would do. 

You offered him a blow job. 

Given your current position, he had obviously accepted. The two of you met up regularly now to “destress.” You never really found time for conversation but you knew two things for certain: 

Daryl Dixon was an excellent hunter. 

Daryl Dixon knew how to fuck.  

“Right there! Fuck, harder!” You clawed at his shoulders, angling your knees outward while your ankles remained locked against his ass. The angle pulled him deeper, his tip pressing even harder against that delicious spot inside you. 

As per usual, you were utterly bare. Daryl had an obsession with being able to touch every inch of your skin. Licking, biting, kissing with an eagerness that made you feel worshiped. He would leave marks that— like your abused cunt— pleasantly ached for a couple of days, only leaving you yearning for the next encounter. 

Daryl, on the other hand, remained clothed. You had never seen more than his cock and a patch of his lower stomach. It was odd and he had snapped at you to stop being a nosey bitch when you had questioned. If it hadn’t been for the shame you could see in those striking blue eyes, things might have gone much differently. You had yet to bring it up again. 

“Takin’ me so well. Can’t get enough’a this, can ya?” He panted against the shell of your ear, dragging his tongue over to your jaw before claiming your mouth. He was swallowing your moans, knowing how loud you could be, especially when you were nearing your end. 

“You feel so good—mmm, ah—inside me.” His grip on your ass tightened, his thrusts becoming harder, more desperate. 

“Yeah? That’s cause this pussy’s mine, ain’t it? Made just for me to fuck.” You could feel the heat churning in your lower belly, your walls fluttering around him as your orgasm crept closer. His words only made you burn hotter. “Say it. Tell me s’mine.”

“It’s yours, Daryl, it’s yours.” You whined, grinding your hips in time with his thrusts, desperate to feel that spiraling pleasure. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it then, woman. Cum for me.” Daryl breathed, already feeling you begin to clamp down around him. He knew from experience to place a palm over your mouth, your screams loud enough to scare the birds from their perches in the canopy. You cried out against his hand, clawing at his back before settling for gathering fistfuls of his tank top as you spasmed and shook in his hold. “Ah, fuck!” 

He followed you over the edge, his warmth emptying into you with each lazy pump of his hips. You both gasped, the feeling too overwhelming for either of you to fully grasp in the midst of the pleasure consuming you. Your walls continued to contract, milking every drop and pulling it further inside of you as the world went from a kaleidoscope of colors back to the quiet greens and browns of nature. 

The redneck was always surprisingly gentle when separating from you. He pressed one last kiss to your mouth, chaste and uncoordinated, as he pulled out and lowered your legs. It was almost intimate. Not something either of you had ever verbalized wanting, but it comforted you. It made you feel less guilty, less dirty, so you never corrected him. 

However, a line was crossed that needed confronting. 

You watched him tuck himself away, already inspecting the area for tracks, while you redressed. You had slipped on your jeans and panties, fastening your bra before you decided he wasn’t going to speak on it first. 

“You came inside me, Dixon.” He gave you a sharp look. He knew exactly what he had done, whether it was intentional or not. 

“Yeah, so?” He shrugged a shoulder and began gathering his weapons and supplies. You weren’t stupid. It had clearly been an accident, but Daryl wasn’t the kind of man to apologize easily. 

“I’m not sure if your parents ever had the talk with you, but what just happened more often than not leads to the creation of these things known as babies.”

“Ain’t stupid, Y/N. I know what it means.” He snapped, his body angled toward you but his gaze off toward the direction of his camp. 

“And if that happens?”

“Won’t.”

“Humor me.” You deadpanned, your own bag now snug against your shoulder and your rifle balanced on your hip. He began to gnaw on the side of his thumb, something he did when he was uncomfortable, you had noticed. 

“We’ll handle it.”

“We?” You smirked, earning a quick lift of his middle finger. 

“Didn’t stutter, did I, Sunshine?”

“Holy shit. You breed me like a rabbit and then give me a nickname? You got a ring in your pocket for me?”

“Fuck off.”

“Three days, midday.” You were nervous, but there was nothing you could do about it now. Daryl was acting like he wasn’t feeling it but his body language screamed otherwise. Maybe he wouldn’t even show up next time. Something about that thought made your heart a little heavier but you wouldn’t linger on that. 

“Alright.” He drawled, taking the first couple of steps away from you. It seemed he had something else he wanted to say, but in the end, he chose to keep walking. 

“Dixon.” You called after him, smiling when he looked back over his shoulder. “Bring condoms.” You were pretty sure that jerk of his head was a nod before he disappeared into the trees. You turned back toward your own camp, grabbing your string of rabbits. 

Your thoughts were consumed by Daryl the entire way back, wondering if you’d ever see him again after that day. Little did you know that he forewent returning to his own camp, making a single run to the outskirts of Atlanta to grab every box of rubbers he could get his hands on. 

Chapter 2

[amnhnyc]

Trick or treat? On Trilobite Tuesday, it’s always a treat. Growing up to 6 in (15.2 cm) long, the mid-sized Ordovician trilobite Pseudogygites latimarginatus has been found in large numbers within Ontario’s Blue Mountain Formation. Occasionally, mass mortality plates featuring dozens of these distinctive pale trilobites have also been recovered from this quarry’s charcoal gray rock.

[choc-ice-on-wheels]

Every day I remember cgi dumped those poor little NG’s in blue mountain quarry and never allowed them to take picnickers to the lake again and it makes me so mad. Where’s the refreshment lady going to set up her shop? Next to Owen?!

Owen: Next stop: The refreshment stand! Refreshment lady: You don’t..you don’t need to say it every time.

[esperfruit]

And last but not least, the Narrow Gauge Squad!

Skarloey Fletcher

Age: 64 (at disappearance)

Height: 165 cm

Rheneas Fletcher

Age: 61 (at disappearance)

Height: 167 cm

Falcon "Sir Handel" Hughes

Age: 35

Height: 170 cm

Stuart "Peter Sam" Kerr

Age: 35

Height: 168 cm

A quartet from Wales that now runs the Blue Mountain Quarry. Decades ago the Fletcher brothers ran a narrow gauge line, called the Mid Sodor Railway alongside Duke England until Skarloey and Rheneas disappeared without a trace. Unable to run the railway by his own, Duke retired and returned home to Wales and told stories to the local children. Two of them were Falcon and Stuart, who were inspired to work on a railway themselves when they grow up. One day the young men could not find Duke anymore but still pursued their goals.

When the Fletcher brothers suddenly reappeared as pseudo-spririts and the news arrived the mainland, despite attempts to cover up this supernatural phenomenon, Falcon and Stuart, now calling themselves "Sir Handel" and "Peter Sam" left their workplace, the Talyllyn Railway to be transfered to Sodor.

Skarloey is a friendly elderly man, who enjoys his works just as much as he used to but he can also be very authoritarian and can send fear into other with his deep booming voice. His younger brother Rheneas had a reputation as being gallant thanks to his work ethic and looks after Peter Sam.

Sir Handel is pompous, grumpy and competitive and with how his engine can pull tiny express trains, his demeanor can be easily compared to Gordon, he also hates to be mistaken for a relative of James just for sharing the same last name.

Peter Sam is polite, optimistic and easy to please as he often does not need much to be happy. He is one of the few drivers who can handle trucks flawlessly. He is a bit gulliable and can take teasing a bit too literal. His engine is something he is very protective of and was very upset when its funnel got destroyed in an accident.

Duncan Barclay

Age: 29 cm

Height: 175 cm

A former factory worker with a foul mouth and a bad attitude. He doesn't have much appreciation for passangers and just wants to get his job done. Duncan doesn't really like to work to begin with and only gets along with Rusty, who can motivate him to get through the day without getting into any fights. He likes rock'n roll and jokingly liked to call his engine's occassional wobbeling that.

Rusty Hornsby

Age: 26

Height: 162 cm

A maintenance worker at the Blue Mountain Quarry. Rusty is seen in a good mood most of the time and loves to help others out with their skills. They not only can repair engines and rails but are also skilled at medical care in case someone did get injured. Rusty and and Duncan are very close to each others despite their opposite personalities. They were a bit cautious to work at a mountain at first because of an incident they had with a boulder once.

Luke Stuart

Age: 22

Height: 159 cm

A young man from Ireland that came to Sodor to work there but went into hiding for a while after he was involved in an incident, where he thought to have accidentily killed Victor. Luke hated himself for thinking of himself as a murderer and looked for shelter at the Blue Mountain Quarry, where Skarloey and the others helped to hide and protect him. He was more than relieved to finally learn Victor is alive and holds no ill-will towards Luke and is now an official Sodor resident, driving a tiny green narrow gauge engine. Luke is very shy and timid and also self-councious about how short he is. He used to get picked on a lot back in Ireland and now tries to get over his insecurities.

[traintrainingmontage]

From One to Another One

It's still 1/1 here, so I'm coming at you live with a Skarloey and Thomas fic! This one is based off of The Adventure Begins and the CGI series rather than the RWS, so I hope that you all enjoy. :) (I'm always a little nervous about writing Thomas himself, given how iconic he is, so I hope that I did him justice here!)

Summary: Thomas has just received his branch line, and he's on top of the world! No longer just another engine for the LBSC, he's the NWR's No. 1 engine, with a branch line to boot. But with great honor comes great responsibility, and when a mishap threatens to topple Thomas from his position, it's the advice of another No. 1 that helps get him back on track.

Characters: Skarloey, Thomas, Sir Topham Hatt

Rating: T

Word Count: ~4,200 words

(This is also on Ao3~!)

“Alright, Thomas. You’re all done.”

The tank engine’s eyes fluttered open gently, blinking into wakefulness as he took in the now-familiar sight of the Steamworks. Normally, Thomas felt apprehensive about coming here, but this time, there were no misgivings to be had. Sir Topham had decided that he ought to have a new coat of paint to celebrate receiving his branch line, and once again, the Northwestern Railway’s cerulean blue livery and red detailing, immaculate and unscratched, gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, with the proud no. 1 emblazoned on his side. Oh, how Thomas loved the feeling of being freshly painted! There was just something about that immaculate flawlessness that promised the end of the old and the start of the new, both of which Thomas was more than ready for.

As he absently followed the directions of the workers as they moved him to a siding, Thomas’s mind felt like it was rushing ahead at a kilometer a minute, unable to settle down. The tank engine still couldn’t quite believe it. He, of all engines, was being put in charge of a branch line! Not James, but him, Thomas! How exciting! How thrilling! How—

Peep peep peep! The sound of a whistle jerked Thomas from his thoughts, almost causing him to pitch forward were it not for his brake being secured. The whistle hadn’t sounded familiar, but that didn’t mean much considering how many engines he still had yet to meet here on Sodor. The blue tank engine quickly looked around to see just who was trying to get his attention, when finally a quiet yet firm “Ahem!” drew his eye down toward a small red engine sitting at about half his height, who had just pulled up to another siding right in front of him. 

Thomas had never seen such an engine; even though this was clearly a tank engine, their tracks were far smaller and thinner than he was used to. A small part of Thomas suddenly felt rather gratified at the fact that he was not, in fact, the smallest engine on Sodor. 

The silence must have stretched on a little too long, however, because the engine before him, whose expression had been one of anticipation, slowly began to look concerned instead. “Oh! Sorry,” Thomas exclaimed, his face stretching into an embarrassed grimace. “I, erm, didn’t… uh… You know, I don’t think we’ve met! I’m Thomas.”

“...Right,” the smaller engine huffed with a sigh, before his lips quirked up into a smile. “Well, it’s good to meet you, Thomas. I’m Skarloey, of the Skarloey Railway.”

“The Skarloey Railway?” Thomas questioned. “As in, the little railway that runs out of Crovan’s Gate?”

“The very same!” Skarloey huffed a laugh, his smile stretching even wider. A gentle breeze blew in, causing the thin line of smoke escaping his funnel to languidly float away as if heading back home toward his line. “Our railway serves the Blue Mountain Quarry, as well as the Skarloey Valley. We’ve got the loveliest sights on the island, and the quarry is always busy. Our passengers are such lovely people, too.” Pride seeped from every word, and the joy on Skarloey’s face was quite familiar to Thomas, seeing as it mirrored his own feelings about the Ffarquhar branch.

“That’s quite nice!” Thomas replied, giving Skarloey an answering grin. “I’ve just been given a new branch line, and it’s also quite beautiful. You should see—”

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry, Thomas, but did you say… that you’ve been given a branch line?” 

“Yes, that is what I said,” Thomas replied snappishly, eyebrows furrowing. Irritation coursed through him at the rude interruption, but the displeasure quickly gave way to concerned confusion at the somber, pensive expression of the engine before him. 

Skarloey’s grin had fallen away into something far more serious, and after a moment’s hesitation, the red tank engine began to speak once more. “You say that you’ve received a new branch line, and I see that you’ve got the number one on your side. Please, tell me. Did you… inherit those from Glynn?”

“Oh, my number? Um, yes! I saw him a few days ago, and he told me to wear it with pride.”

“And… how is he?”

“Um, well… he’s on a siding on the branch line.”

At this, Skarloey’s frames seemed to sag, as if in relief. The smile returned to his face, although this one was smaller, yet somehow a little more genuine than before. “Ah, thank goodness! I was worried that he’d been—well, never mind. Thank you, Thomas. That is a load off my mind.”

“Um… of course!” Thomas smiled, but both his words and tone were tinged with uncertainty. “Do you… know Glynn well?”

“Oh yes,” the other engine chuckled. “He and I are old friends. We’re both the original no. 1 engines of our railways, so we would often have a good laugh about various adventures we’d had whenever we had the chance to see each other. It’s just been so long that I… well, I was worried.”

“Oh. Ok, that makes sense,” Thomas smiled. “Still, you don’t have to worry. He’s alright, and I’m running his branch line now! Sir Topham recognized my bravery, and I’m going to be the best there is! I’ll be the best No. 1 on the Northwestern; you’ll see!”

“I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully. But please, be careful, Thomas,” Skarloey cautioned, a note of worry in his voice. “Bearing the mantle of the No. 1 engine isn’t just for show. It’s a heavy responsibility, and—”

“It’s an honor, is what it is!” It was Thomas’s turn to interrupt, the indignation from earlier rising back up and mixing with a resigned annoyance brought on by too many well-meaning people telling him things he was quite sure he already knew. “Look, I’ve earned this! I’ve made mistakes, but now, I can show everyone just how useful I really am! I know I’m not Glynn, but I’m not some new build either! I’ll do my number proud! Just… trust me!” 

A long, emotion-leaden silence stretched between the two. Thomas panted lightly; despite not being in steam, he’d gotten so worked up that he’d almost felt his fire flicker. Skarloey stared at Thomas with wide eyes, emotions roiling in his boiler. Next to them, on the horizon, the sun was quietly starting to set, casting its long rays upon both of the engines and bathing them in shining gold.

“...Alright,” Skarloey finally murmured, his voice ashen and empty. “I apologize, Thomas. I’ve said too much. I’m sure that you will make Glynn and the rest of your railway proud.”

“...Thank you, Skarloey,” Thomas managed, not quite able to bring himself to say any more.

Without another word, the older engine gave a quiet peep peep! and pulled away from the siding, leaving Thomas to his lonesome, and for once, the young tank engine was glad for the silence.

~~~~~~~

The next day, Thomas was recalled from the Steamworks and given his next job, which was to be the official start of his passenger service for the Ffarquhar branch line. In all the excitement, his encounter with Skarloey was quickly forgotten as Annie and Clarabel were hooked up behind him and he was sent along on his route. The small engine almost felt like singing with glee; he’d taken a few days to bring goods down the line and familiarize himself with it, but now, he’d been given the responsibility that many engines cherished most: passenger traffic.

“How exciting!” Thomas laughed, joy bubbling up from the depths of his boiler as the wind caught his words and relayed them back to Annie and Clarabel. “Come along! We must be off!”

“We’re coming along! We’re coming along!” the coaches chorused, equally pleased to be running along behind their new engine. 

Soon enough, they reached the first station, causing the assembled passengers to gasp in awe. While many of them had caught glimpses of Thomas already as he familiarized himself with the line, a good number of passengers weren’t aware that they were to receive a new local engine. “Oh my!” one lady gasped. “So this is the new engine! How smart he looks!”

“I must say!” called a rather dapper-looking gentleman. “He’s much spiffier than the old coffeepot who used to come ‘round. Most excellent.”

“I hope he’s an easier rider than that James,” fretted an older woman with large glasses. “Always going so fast!”

“Hehehe!” Thomas chuckled to himself as the passengers filed onto Annie and Clarabel, their awestruck murmurs music to his ego. Once the Guard blew his whistle, the tank engine took off, heading up the line.

The ride was calm and easy. Sunlight streamed down in golden waves, and the clouds, languid and lethargic, allowed the wind to drag them where it wished. There couldn’t have been a more picture perfect day, the rails were nice and dry, and as far as Thomas was concerned, this was but a harbinger of the many good things to come. After all, he had learned! He had proven himself! He was the Northwestern Railway’s number one engine, not just another faceless worker on the LBSC. He would run the entire Ffarquhar branch line, no longer a station pilot forced to shunt all day, unappreciated and forgotten. Everything was looking up!

The happy compliments from the passengers as they arrived only bolstered his good cheer, with several stopping to tell him what a good job he’d done and congratulating his driver and fireman on a job well done. One comment in particular, however, stood out to him the most.

“Daddy!” shrieked one little girl, her smile as bright as her homemade yellow cardigan. “That’s Thomas! He’s the number one engine!”

“That’s right, Samantha,” her father laughed, a middle-aged man with a bellow that could rival Gordon. “He’s going to pull our train from now on.”

“Since he’s number one, does that mean he’s the best?”

There was a long pause, the father’s eyes sliding between a terribly eager-looking Thomas and a seven-year-old sporting a rather similar expression. “Well, uh, I certainly think that he could be!”

“Yaaaay!” Samantha cheered, doing a little dance that involved a tremendous number of hops. “We’re riding with the BEST!”

As her father gently led her away, the little girl waving all the while, Thomas couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. “The best! Yes! That’s me!”

“Well, we’d best remain careful,” Annie retorted, her gentle nagging already a familiar sound in Thomas’s smokebox. “Follow the rules, do what’s best for the passengers, listen to the driver, and—”

“Be a credit to the railway,” Thomas finished, a slight sigh entering his voice as he echoed the repetitive mantra. “Yes, yes, I know! I just need to keep doing what I’ve been doing, and then…”

Thomas’s mind was filled with visions of brilliance, of endless days of praise and cheers from his passengers, of thanks from Sir Topham and smiles from the other engines. If every day went as well as this one, then…

“...I really will be the best.”

~~~~~~~

The race against Bertie had been exhilarating. Thomas could think of no other word for it. Even the coaches had been invested, both Annie and Clarabel cheering him on, and both his and Bertie’s drivers had worked so hard.

However, his great success hadn’t stopped the passengers from making a great big fuss. Many of them called Thomas names, saying that he was an unsafe engine. Several children were crying by the time the race was over, and a few had even gotten motion sick. An old lady with huge glasses kept screaming that he was no better than James. A little girl in a yellow cardigan had looked at him with massive, sorrowful eyes before burying her head into her father’s shoulder. Sir Topham Hatt had to sort through the many, many complaints, as well as settle things with Bertie’s company. Thus, all further trains for the day were cancelled, and Thomas was sent back to his shed in Ffarquhar in disgrace. 

Annie and Clarabel were silent, although their shame was palpable; they were meant to be the voices of reason, and had failed quite miserably in that respect. The two were shunted onto a siding, and said no more for the rest of the day. Thomas’s driver and fireman had also been told, rather unkindly, that they were not to be seen again for the rest of the day, and that as soon as Thomas had been returned to his shed and cleaned, they were to head for home on unpaid leave. From the sound of it, the stationmaster had earned the same punishment. Without his coaches or his crew, Thomas was left to sit and stew in silence, his wheels aching as a deep sense of guilt settled in between the tiny flaws and gaps in his frames, squeezing into those hair-thin vulnerabilities that not even the greatest designer could hope to avoid. He hadn’t meant to put the passengers in danger! It had just been one race! He just… he wanted… 

What did he want? 

He’d already gotten everything he’d wanted. He’d been allowed to leave the station, no longer forced to shunt coaches, and run a branch line—be responsible for his own branch line—instead. And now, it was quite possible that he’d ruined everything.

Sir Topham Hatt came to visit him that night. “Well, Thomas,” the Controller began, “I hope you’re quite pleased with yourself!” His lips were turned down into a fierce scowl, and his glare was enough to make Thomas shiver. Even though he was so much smaller than Thomas was, the sheer strength of his presence made the tank engine cower. 

“I… no, Sir! I’m—I’m sorry, Sir!” 

“‘Sorry’ isn’t enough this time, Thomas!” the Controller yelled, the exhaustion, anger, worry, and disappointment of the day’s events all quite evident in the weariness hiding in the creases of his eyes and the timbre of his voice. “Our passengers have lodged a number of complaints, many of which I have had to manage personally! What were you thinking?!”

“I…Bertie said that he was there to help me, Sir. A-and I said that I didn’t need it, because I could go faster than him, Sir! And th-then, he challenged me to a race, Sir! So—”

“So you fell for his taunt, and that’s how this all started,” Sir Topham sighed. In a quieter tone, but one no less angry, the Controller continued. “I’m quite disappointed in you, Thomas. I expected more from you, and that’s why I gave you the number one, as well as this branch line. But now, I’m not sure that you’re ready for the responsibility.”

Thomas’s eyes went wide, and he tried to say something, anything, in response, but Sir Topham held up a hand, a wordless command for quiet.

“Trains that go too fast usually end up in some kind of incident, whether it’s a crash, a collision, or even coming off the rails. Incidents can hurt, Thomas. They can lead to an engine needing a great many repairs or even being scrapped entirely. Humans can be badly injured in incidents, and may even need to be taken to the hospital. We’re very lucky that no one was hurt this time, but some of the passengers are calling for you to be replaced.”

“Replaced! Oh, Sir, please—”

“I haven’t decided yet, Thomas, but I am forced to seriously consider it. You’re not the LBSC’s no. 70 anymore, nor are you a guest of the railway. You now wear the Northwestern Railway’s number one. That number is both a blessing and a burden; people look at you and see the face of this railway. Just as my coffeepots once represented the Northwestern, the responsibility now lies on you to make a positive impression. I figured that you would be a good fit for such a role, as you are a hard worker and a joyful spirit, but I cannot allow passengers to think that my railway is unsafe.”

“I… I’m so sorry, Sir. I won’t do it again, ever.” 

In lieu of an answer, or even reassurance, Sir Topham Hatt simply sighed. “Right. I’m sending you to the Steamworks tomorrow; your wheels are worn out, and at the very least, those need to be replaced. I will consider what to do with you afterwards. Good night.”

There was a finality in his voice that told Thomas not to press the matter further. Instead of all of the fears and nerves threatening to burst forth, with great effort, the little blue tank engine managed only a quiet “Good night, Sir.”

It was only long after Sir Topham left that he managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

~~~~~~~

Once again, Thomas found himself on a Steamworks siding, fitted with new wheels and tires. He did feel much better physically, but that was the extent of it; he was sure that his expression betrayed just how nervous and helpless he felt. To make matters worse, it was a spectacularly gorgeous day out, with bright sun, a nice breeze, and not a cloud in the sky, the kind of day that would be perfect for running joyously up and down his branch line. Heh, his branch line. If it would still even be his.

The thought was enough to cause tears to start welling up in his eyes, rivulets running down his cheeks as his thoughts started to spiral. Would he be forced to go back to shunting? Would he lose his number? He’d let everyone down—Sir Topham, the passengers, Glynn… what kind of No. 1 was he?

Peep peep peep! Thomas was jolted from his thoughts as another engine slowly pulled up alongside him. As he looked over to see who it was, he was almost unsurprised to find that it was Skarloey. “Hello, Thomas,” the older engine began hesitantly. “...How are you?”

“Just great,” Thomas bit back, well aware that he was being rude but not in the mood for decorum right now. “I made a huge mistake, and now I might lose my number and my branch line. I challenged Bertie to a race, and it was great fun, but all the passengers got mad at me, and Sir Topham was mad at me, and just… argh!”

If he’d been in steam, Thomas would have let out a large weesh in frustration. As it was, he could only yell about it, screaming up toward an uncaring sky as the tears continued to fall. 

Beside him, Skarloey was quiet, so Thomas continued. “He said that trains who go too fast end up in incidents, and incidents are bad for both passengers and engines. I know that! Everyone knows that! But there wasn’t an incident, and they want to replace me just because I…” 

There was a beat of silence before Thomas groaned, frustration evident on his face. “I guess it doesn’t matter. You and all the others were right; I couldn’t handle it. Just say it and get it over with.”

Skarloey let out a quiet sigh, staring out at the track, away from Thomas. “Everyone makes mistakes, Thomas. I made many of them myself when I was a younger engine. But one of the most important things I’ve learned is that most people don’t care if you make mistakes. What they care about is what you’ve learned from it.”

“I have learned!” Thomas shouted, startling a bird from its perch on a nearby tree. “I did! I’ll never race again! Racing can cause incidents, and incidents cause injuries, and that’s bad!”

“Yes, you’re right,” Skarloey murmured gently. “You’re sorry for racing, because you know that racing itself can lead to injury. But Thomas, have you ever thought about how easy it is for humans to be injured?”

At this, the blue tank engine furrowed his brow, and gave a quiet sniff. “Wha—what do you mean?”

“Humans aren’t like us,” the older engine explained, his calm cadence being surprisingly comforting the longer Thomas listened. “They’re very fragile. We can be rebuilt, and carry on even when we feel ill. Many humans can’t do that; if their injuries are bad enough, they may need to stay in the hospital—that’s their version of the Steamworks—for weeks, or even months, if it’s very bad.”

“Oh,” Thomas gasped, eyes going wide. “That’s terrible!” 

Skarloey’s voice was somber. “It is. That’s why it’s very important that we give our passengers a safe trip. It’s not just incidents that lead to people getting hurt; they can even feel ill if we go too fast. Passengers must always come first.”

“I see.” Thomas’s gaze fell to the buffers before him, self-pity finally giving way to realization. “That’s why Sir Topham Hatt was so angry. It’s not just about the race; just because there wasn’t an incident doesn’t mean the passengers had a nice time. Some of them probably felt ill, and that’s why they wanted me to be replaced.” With a final sniff, the tears dried up, and Thomas blinked them away. “I really haven’t been a good engine. The race was fun, but it made the passengers upset and ill, and I really mustn’t go too fast in the future either, or else they might be upset again.”

“Exactly,” Skarloey agreed, lips curling up into a small, approving smile. “Well done, Thomas. That’s some very good self-reflection.”

“Self-reflection?” Thomas queried. “What’s that?”

The red engine blinked a moment, then gave a thoughtful little hum, trying to puzzle out how to explain the concept. “It’s when you think deeply about why you did something or feel the way you feel. At first, you felt upset because Sir Topham and the passengers were angry at you. But after some self-reflection, you can now see why they were angry, and what you should do better.”

“Oh!” Thomas exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t know there were words for that!” 

“Yes indeed,” Skarloey chuckled. “And self reflection becomes extra important because you’re the number one of your railway.”

Thomas took a moment to consider this, rolling the idea around in his smokebox. “That makes sense. Sir Topham said that people look at me and see the face of the railway, but I wasn’t quite sure what he meant. Now, I guess it means that because people think of the railway and think of me, I have to be extra careful to do a good job. It’s nice to be noticed, but it’s also a big responsibility.”

“There you are, Thomas,” Skarloey beamed. “I think that if you tell all of that to Sir Topham, you can show him that you’re still worthy of your branch line.”

As if the heavens themselves were listening, a piercing honk honk! interrupted the two engines as a car pulled up on the road alongside the Steamworks, and Sir Topham stepped out. Even though the sun was still bright and the day still warm, a chill shook its way through Thomas’s body, snaking past his rivets and frames and down into his firebox. “Ah, Skarloey! Always good to see you!” Sir Topham greeted, and the smaller engine grinned in response.

“You as well, Sir!”

It was then that the Controller’s eyes turned to Thomas, his expression stern. “Now then, Thomas. Regarding what we spoke about yesterday…”

“Oh, please, Sir!” Thomas blurted out, panic causing him to push forward despite how rude he knew he was being. “Please don’t take my branch line away! I’ve done some self… self retention, and I know what I’ve done wrong. But more than that, I know why it’s wrong.”

“Oh?” Sir Topham replied, curiosity smoothing out the tension. “I believe that you mean ‘self reflection,’ Thomas. But I should like to hear what you’ve learned.”

“Yes, sir!” his engine started. “People are fragile, and they don’t like being bumped around or taken too fast because it makes them ill! Just because there wasn’t an incident doesn’t mean that they had a good ride, and it’s my job to always give the passengers a nice, safe trip. Plus, since I’m the face of the railway, I have to work extra hard at giving the passengers a nice ride because I don’t want them to think of me and think the whole railway is bad!”

The words all spilled forth in a rush, Thomas trying his hardest to get his meaning across before the Controller could possibly go back to being angry. Once he’d finished, however, there was a long, tense silence, before Sir Topham’s face finally broke into a wide, happy smile. “Well! It seems that you’ve thought quite hard about this, Thomas. Good lad. If you’ve really learned to reflect on yourself and you know why what you did was wrong, then I shall let you keep your number and branch line. I expect great things from you, as my number one engine.”

“Oh, yes Sir! Thank you, Sir!” Thomas exclaimed in relief, all breathless joy and wide-eyed delight, before looking down at the engine beside him. “And thank you, Skarloey, for helping me understand things. I don’t think I would have learned self reflection without you!”

The old engine laughed, his mirth causing even his frames to shake. “I’m glad that I could help, Thomas. From one No. 1 to another, I wish you all the best.”

“Ah, so he received a little help, did he?” Sir Topham smiled. “You truly are a credit to your railway, Skarloey. Thank you.”

The Skarloey Railway’s No. 1 engine grinned with pride, his smile as bright and warm as the sun above. “My pleasure, Sir. It’s truly been an honor.”

[sketch-pencilpoint]

So, I decided that i wouldI made a simple visual guide to the differences between engine sub-types. This is mostly for fun, but also reference for later. Plus it gives a few new characters in the long run when it get to the non steam engines especially.

We start with the steamies (diesels and tugs will come later)

Thomas here is a tank engine. We all know that. Being a monster tank engine means that thomas has shorter, fatter legs with non retractable claws. They also have a short, stumpy tail that pokes from under their back fur, commonly known as paint fur.

Gordon is a tender engine. Tender engines have long tails that match their paint fur. They also have long, muscular legs and retractable claws, the only type to have these type of claws. This is likely due to the sheer size of tender engines, as this makes them more dangerous without the full-time claws.

Toby is a steam tram. This makes him unique, being the only one. Therefore, some assumed information about monster trams may be just Toby thing. For example, Toby has a fat stomach and thick, rough fur. This could very well be standard for a tram engine, but it could just as well be only Toby. This could also be a case for his shorter claws as he may be purposely shortening them. Otherwise, the short, fat legs, paint fur covered tail and the large forehead area compared to other engines is more than definitely standard for the species.

Sir handle (I know but I was going for a color theme and I designed Toby last) is a narrow gauge. This means he is much smaller than the standard gauge engines. Narrow gauges have much less distance between their legs (horizontally), as well as short, fat legs, fat stomachs and extremely thick fur, even in the non saddle tanks like rheneas. This is all likely to be for easy survival in rocky, mountain areas like the blue mountain quarry. Other details incule non retractable and extra tough claws and paint tails. Tender narrow gauges have much bigger, slightly squirrel like tails.

Bert is a miniature gauge engine. Miniature gauges are by far the smallest, and have very short distances between their legs (horizontally). They also have different looking claws, as they are more canine like than the other types of engine. This may be because miniature engines are very close to size as humans and anything sharper would be a risk. They also have paint tails, and they are very big, likely to store more energy for later use. Their legs are average in length, comparatively, and their legs are slender but not thin.

[sodor-spirit]

Skarloey Railway’s 22: 🌪️ Luke the Mist Spirit 🌪️

The latest and newest member of the Skarloey Railway Spirits, Luke was brought to Sodor to work at the new (at the time) Blue Mountain Quarry, but went missing for many years after a traumatic accident he caused upon his arrival, hiding away in the tunnels of the Blue Mountain Quarry with the help of the other Skarloey railway spirits and his new engine crew, while using his unique mist magic to try and conceal himself, until meeting Thomas who helped him discover and find out the truth of what happened to the other spirit that was on the boat with him that brought them to Sodor.

Luke is a friendly, energetic and plucky young spirit always keen to work with the other spirits and humans living on the island. Being one of the two air spirits on the narrow gauge railway (Not counting Duke since he’s duel element spirit), Luke enjoys flying and normally keeps his feet off the ground, often taking in the vast sights of his own railway and sometimes even visiting the grounds of Ulfstead Castle to visit the young deer he made friends with. Also as a result of his experiences he sometimes helps solve mysteries that other spirits or humans have, becoming like a little detective for free.

[cklokinlutz]

FFXIVWrite2024 : Masterpost Prompt 12 : Quarry Title : Mini Adventure Summary : [Teen] Lokin leads a party in a quest to beat boredom.

[Read below, or over on AO3]

Under the night sky, filled with it's endless stars, a group of teens from Lutz village are on an adventure. Or something like. As they tread through the forest, idle chatter between them, armed with lanterns, they've no real goal in mind, save for killing their boredom.

"Summer nights are nearing their end. Pretty soon the air will cool, the leaves will fall, and the rains will great us heavily." Raiden, a young miqo'ra, shares his musings with the group.

"If you pull-out your poetry book, I'm outta here." His sister, Romi, rolls her eyes.

"Just coz you speak like an uneducated shit-pig!" He replies, his poise instantly dissolved.

"I'm too tired for this shit..." Nahlu, another miqo'ra, sighs as the sibling's continue to squabble.

"C'mon, where's your sense of adventure?" A miqo'te, Jhon'a, pipes-up, giving Nahlu a little nudge.

Before she can answer, a viera, Zevastian, jumps infront of her. "Probably already in bed!" He grins playfully, walking backwards so he can continue facing them for a few steps, before spinning around again. "How much further we goin' anyway? I didn't bring any camping gear." In fact, none of them did.

Lokinovu, leading the group, barely has time to ready his answer before another pair viera ears prick-up beside him. As he looks over to her, Lukita glares right back at him. "Relax! I wouldn't-, we're not-..." He takes a moment to clear his throat. "We'll turn back after we find something."

"Something?" Zevastian asks. He knew there was no objective set for this night's outing, but perhaps that's changed?

"Something cool!" Lokinovu's eyes suddenly burst with eager determination.

Upon hearing this declaration, the others' respond in a mix of sighs and groans, to the tunes of "this is going to be a long night", "fuck sake", and "he hasn't a clue".

Lukita quietly giggles at her friend. He really was an idiot. But as she realizes that camping probably is on the cards after all, her ears droop. She hates sleeping outdoors. It's always cold, even in the peak of summer, and right now is not the peak of summer.

Regardless of the mixed feelings surrounding the venture, spirits remain high overall, and the playful banter continues as our group of moonlit (and lantern lit) heroes trek on through the forest, until something catches Lokinovu's eye.

"Did you see that?" He stops suddenly, catching everyone off-guard and causing something of a pile-up behind him. "C'mon!" He sets-off in a hurry before anyone can even answer him.

The others follow, of course, wondering what he could've even seen all the way over there in this darkness. But as they catch-up with him, Lokinovu kneels to retrieve his prize.

"Check it out." He turns on his heels, presenting the party with a small, purple crystal.

"That's it?" Jhon'a raises a brow.

"Wonder if there're anymore round here." Raiden chimes in, already shining his light around the forest floor as he brushes leaf litter aside.

The others too get to investigating the nearby area, a treasure hunt now underway. And it's not long before another discovery is made!

"Guys, over here!" Lukita calls, kneeling beside something the others can't quite make-out.

As they gather, their collective light reveal more, tinier crystals in varying shades of purples and blues, as well a hole in what seems to be the side of either a very large rock, or a mountain. It's too dark to tell how tall, even with these lights. They could fan-out to see how wide it is, but their focus is on where the hole leads - and it certainly seems big enough to crawl through and find out!

Raiden, being the largest, leads under the logic that if things should start to get tight, he'll be the first to notice. And, should he get stuck, those behind him can pull out by his legs and tail. One by one they enter the tunnel, with lanterns tied to their belts, tails, or held in their mouths.

The crawl itself is uneventful, but there does seem to be a downward direction to it. Thankfully, it's not too steep, so going back up later shouldn't be a problem. A little further, and they begin to notice a familiar smell, like that which comes after heavy rainfall, or being by a lakeside perhaps...? No, it's more like sea water. The tunnel itself starts to feel cooler, and damp, as they continue onward.

After a while, they find themselves emerging to an underground cavern, relatively small, and with another, much wider tunnel on the far side's wall.

"Maybe it connects to the ocean?" Romi ponders, stepping down into ankle-high waters, her voice echoing.

"Mm, seems like." Raiden nods. "We should be careful to keep an eye on the water level. The tide should be on it's way in soon, if not already."

"Didn't I tell ya we'd find something cool!?" Lokinovu runs through the waters, a wide, toothy grin on his face, utterly proud of himself.

Zevastian is the first to kick-splash him, with Jhon'a and Romi following suit, starting a small water-fight between them.

Meanwhile, Raiden heads over to the second tunnel, seeing if there're any auditory or even visual clues as to how far they are from the ocean itself.

Nahlu notices Lukita quietly investigating a wall, and approaches her. "What d'ya find?".

"Some of the sparkles are brighter than others." She answers, referring to the reflective effect the water has on the wet cavern walls, before showing Nahlu another small purple crystal, like the ones they'd seem before.

In the instant that Nahlu announces the find to the group, they all go about inspecting the walls, gathering whatever treasures they can find and stuffing them into their pockets. Though they probably wouldn't be worth much, it was treasure nonetheless.

What an exciting adventure tonight turned out to be!

[morningdove999]

‧₊˚ ⋅ welcome home ‧₊˚ ⋅

☘︎ 19yo femme lesbian (she/her)

☘︎ call me caroline or dove

☘︎ single

☘︎ pillow princess ~ sub leaning

☘︎ sagittarius ~ neurodivergent ~ infj

☘︎ english lit major

☘︎ dms are always open ᡣ𐭩

☘︎ follows from my main @honeybeeham

☘︎ reach out first - i’m shy!

love all things horror, queer, vintage, and tragic

➺ hozier, melanie martinez, lord huron, chappell roan, cigarettes after sex, adrienne lenker, mitski, fall out boy, johnny cash, boygenius, abba, the weeknd, lana del rey, billie eilish, kate bush

➺ percy jackson, tender is the flesh, frankenstein, song of achilles, aristotle and dante, circe, the iliad, junji ito, hunchback of notre dame, lapvona

➺ gladiator, midsommar, fresh, barbarian, saltburn, immaculate, but i’m a cheerleader, phantom of the opera, scream, pride and prejudice, spiderman, dracula, hereditary, dead poets society, harry potter, prince of egypt, la la land, perks of being a wallflower, bottoms, brokeback mountain, the fault in our stars

➺ gravity falls, black mirror, criminal minds, vikings, you, haikyuu, supernatural, midnight mass, oitnb, modern family, sex education, the boys, got/hotd, yellowjackets, fleabag, family guy, blue eye samurai, sex education, atlanta

➺ tlou, twisted wonderland, minecraft, fnaf, the quarry, resident evil, ddlc, little nightmares, dbd

kink list:

favs: breeding, cnc, intox, choking, nipple play, yandere/extreme possessiveness ᡣ𐭩

general: praise, degradation, free use, oral, spanking, knife play, wax play, anal, masks, light bondage, objectification, corruption, teratophilia

hard limits: scat, piss, race play, age play, feederism, dyke breaking, zoophilia

tags:

#askdove! (asks)

#dove! (personal posts)

#dovepics! (personal photos)

dni: homophobes, men, minors, terfs, racists, misogynists, pedos, transphobes, bigots

let’s be moots <3

pngs by @llocket and @ghiblisnoopy

banners by @strangergraphics and @saradika-graphics

[jessythebunny]

🚂Skarloey🎀

❤Skarloey is the oldest engine in the Skarloey railway, He acts as the leader of the whole group, and he is the number one just like Thomas, but he's working in the blue mountain quarry now

❤Skarloey is a reliable engine who will help anyone who needs a helping hand and keep secrets and he does not allow them, because he knows that this is wrong

❤Skarloey is very nervous, and he does not like to mess around at all, and if someone pisses him off, Skarloey raises his voice at him and sometimes he loses control and does not control his temper

❤He is almost close to Peter Sam and Rheneas and Sir Handel, and loves working with them and listening to him. He is also close to Edward and likes to drink tea with him in his free time. He has little patience for Duncan, even though he is always frowning and complaining a lot. He treats Luke like his son

❤Skarloey loves bodybuilding. Although he is short in stature, he is very strong and can pull dozens of stone carts in his engine form

[asanjou]

oh my god saw your tags i would love any and all quarry lore you have to offer. tell me about her...

HEEHEE so the first toku quarry was the daiei kogyo quarry in yorii, saitama (though i believe it might be owned by a different company now?) and throughout its use as a filming location and i think to this day it's still an active quarry, so it might look different depending on what year the show you're watching is from. from what ive read it's kinda far from residential areas and since it was in use the loud noises from the explosions wouldn't have been out of the ordinary anyway.

read moring cuz i ended up rambling

mt iwafune, the current toku quarry, was in active use as a quarry from the edo period right up until mid showa when concrete became more widely used, so demand fell and production declined. it's kinda hard to find details on when exactly mining stopped entirely, but i found a tripadvisor review mentioning it was still ongoing on the north side of the mountain (the usual filming location is the south side) in 2018. i think it's stopped entirely at this point though.

the cliff stage association (who hold a concert in the quarry every year!) was formed in 1999 and the earliest appearance of mt iwafune im aware of was in gingaman around the same time so that's probably when it became available for location hire! i can't say if it's because the yorii quarry area was unusable or if iwafune is just a more ideal location, but i believe iwafune has more convenient amenities given that it's a closer to the nearby town and it was already kind of a tourist destination for religious reasons. they're about the same distance away from tokyo.

it's been a minute since i watched any ~00 toku but i think the switch from one to the other as the usual quarry was probably pretty gradual because they don't stop using the yorii quarry completely. there's other spaces that are used for filming too that are a bit more built up, for example im pretty sure the place the shinken red vs shinken blue scene is filmed is part of the yorii quarry?

most of my sources are jpn pilgrimage blogs so apologies if it turns out ive said something completely wrong but that's what i know rn!

you can also get your photo taken in front of an explosion in either quarry btw. i think it's also the only way to get into the cliff stage because you can't go in without permission

article

[calitheheart]

"Skarloey's boys, they call us."

so here's something I've been whittling away at ever since I got back into the railway series - a ttte fire emblem-esque au! it's a niche within a niche but I've had it in my brain for ages and just wanted to get SOMETHING out! Presenting Sodor Cipher!

To start off, some of the members of the Skarloey - Sir Handel, Duncan and Rusty! In my general canon for this au I like to imagine the Skarloey as a Duchy with a heavy emphasis on their physical prowess and mineral mining thanks to their close proximity to the Culdee Fell mountains and the Blue Mountain Quarry - As such, Shane Dooiney is the industry capital for the area. Being far out from the rest of the towns and kingdoms means that many come to the Skarloey for a fresh start, and those that do inevitably forge stronger bonds than they've ever known before. Those bufferbeam-style belts aren't just for show, Skarloey's boys are so good at what they do that they have the sheer force of will to expertly maneuver mining equipment with just their bodies.

As for character bios/ mini backstories (can you tell ive never actually made an au before and dont exactly know the most eloquent way to explain things oop) we've got:

Sir Handel - Once known as Falcon in another kingdom, moved to the Skarloey after receiving a knighthood to get away from the life of a knight. Despite maintaining that he's an excellent mentor, he is rash and impulsive - all for a good cause though, he just wants to get through the day and clock off for some good-old-fashioned banter. Still good with a sword, but prefers to not have to touch it in favour of staunchly gathering resources.

Duncan - Once a lower member of a Mercenary group, he learned that being brutally vocal was the only way to get by. Not a bigot, but not exactly a saint either, he has a hard time letting new people into his life - not exactly the best disposition to have when you're leaving your life behind to work in the chattiest mountains on Sodor. Despite being in a merc group and being a supposed dab hand with an axe, he isn't the most well-travelled.

Rusty - Born in the Mainland before immediately being raised in Skarloey, Rusty has an undying love for the people of the Duchy and the rest of Sodor in general. They have a keen eye for detail and are quick to educate fellow knights on proper conduct - even if they don't exactly ask for it. Rusty runs double duty, conducting inspections in the mining sectors and guarding Crovan's Gate as a surprisingly adept Halberdier.

I'm still working out the specifics of details in this au as it's a blend of each era and general medieval fantasy worldbuilding, so I welcome any and all questions ! <3