#coppernob things

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

I've learned tonight from Railway Magazine that Frank Webb had his first "18-inch Express Goods" (Cauliflowers! <3) exhibited with the brand-new Joy valve gear at Barrow-in-Furness in 1880...

... and I just want to dream tonight about how incredibly, incredibly, incredibly fuckin' normal the Furness engines were about this whole shebang 😈

[sparkarrestor]

He must have been bitching the entire time

[thatcheeseycandle]

T2024: Day 15, Stars | TC-LRAU

That could've gone as messy as it did, but for the record, it shouldn't of had happened. It's been said to not let those two be in the same environment, or else that would be the result. Right?

Either way, she’s just grateful that they were escorted out of there, back to the museum, but it still worries her. She’s heard from Nadi how they feel about Scotsman, yes, but honestly she didn’t expect them to act on it so suddenly, especially during an event such as this.

Though they did have a point when bringing up his actions as of recent. She couldn’t blame them, they were quite questionable. Questionable in a way where those sort of things happening to an engine such as Scotsman felt nerve wracking. 

And it was also odd on how it even happened in the first place. It wasn’t right, how could the NRM let such a thing happen if it did happen? It felt impossible, honestly, and if it did happen Truro or Coppernob would’ve known about it one way or another. It felt wrong to let it happen, and even the thought of it felt wrong. It felt out of place.

Was it to deceive or was it unfaithful reality? Perhaps she’ll have a chat with Henrique about it. Though for now, her mind was mainly set on Nadi. 

She cursed Scotsman under her breathe as she glanced over to where she saw him and Gordon would speed pass through, her mind drifting off to the memories of the Flying Scotsman in his 2000s overhaul, otherwise known as the Decade Overhaul. A time where most of it went down hill for him and for Nadi.

Recalling how neglectful and suspicious he was, oh that little shit–

“Evening star, what a surprise,” a voice came from behind her, cutting off her train of thought.

“Ah, hello Ms. Lode Star.” Evening Star

“I thought you would’ve accompanied my fellow Great Westerns in the Museum at York, even more seeing as I’ve heard the fifth King’s attitude has not withstood time as much as he’s claimed it to have.”

“Don’t say it like you haven’t started to age a little yourself, Lady Lorraine. I myself have heard what you’ve been up to from those diesels,” she jabs back at her. “But, I’m also getting to that point in age as well. We’re all growing old and the only way to go through it is with acceptance.”

Lorraine would give an acknowledging hum to that as she looks to where Evelyn had, spotting the engine that had just arrived starting to form up a little crowd around them.

She couldn’t see the nameplate as clear as she would’ve liked to, but she could identify that this engine was most likely one of those Southerners, specifically a School class with how the smoke deflectors and running board looked.

It was certainly another surprise considering she was not told that there would be any other Southerners arriving in the exhibition here other than the ones that have already arrived.

Perhaps they were the surprise that was supposed to come later in the day, she’d have to have a word or two with this engine to find out.

But Evening Star on the other hand, she just couldn’t help but let her thoughts about Nadi keep flowing in like a tsunami.

Considering their history and relationship with Scotsman, they would not let it go as easily as most people would think. It concerned her, what if Scotsman says something out of hand like the last time? What if Nadi starts a scrap with him? At least one or two people, both engines and human, will get hurt in the process if ever.

Lorraine looked over to her as she noticed the thoughtful expression on Evelyn’s face and couldn't help but inquire, "You seem deep in thought, dear Evelyn. What's on your mind?"

Evelyn sighed, glancing over at Lorraine. "Just thinking about Scotsman and all the trouble surrounding him lately. It’s been quite the whirlwind, hasn’t it?"

Lorraine nodded sympathetically. "It certainly has. I’ve heard bits and pieces, but it seems the situation is more complicated than some of us had realized."

"Indeed," Evelyn replied. "The tension with Nadi and the sudden actions during the event.. it's all been a bit too much. Scotsman’s behavior has been questionable, and it’s causing a lot of unrest."

Lorraine looked thoughtful for a moment, pushing aside her opinions before fully understanding the situation. "Do you think it is something that can be resolved? Or is it one of those things that will just keep simmering beneath the surface?"

Evelyn took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I honestly think we need to address it directly. Maybe it’s time we sat down and had a proper discussion, clear the air. Nadi’s been holding onto a lot, and it’s practically eating away at both of them."

"I can understand your concern," Lorraine said thoughtfully. "But perhaps it's an opportunity to address these issues head-on. Sometimes, facing the problem directly can bring about resolution."

Evelyn smiled slightly. "I was thinking the same. But it’s not just about the past grievances. It’s also about setting a tone for how we move forward. Scotsman needs to understand the impact of his actions, and Nadi needs to ."

Lorraine nodded in agreement. "That sounds like a sensible approach. Communication is key in these situations. And you have my support, Evelyn. We’re both in this together, after all. Don't you recall that night?"

"Thank you, Lady Lorraine," Evelyn said after a while, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. (Or footplate-) "It’s good to know we have each other’s backs, especially concerning Nadi unlike most engines. Let's hope we can find a way to give both of them a satisfying conclusion to their long lasting tension."

Lorraine gave an encouraging smile. "We will, Venus. Sometimes, it takes a bit of turbulence to find smooth tracks again. And remember, it’s not just about Scotsman and Nadi. We all need to work together to keep the harmony." Evelyn nodded, appreciating Lorraine’s wisdom. "You're right. It's a collective effort. Maybe we can set up a meeting with everyone involved, create a space where everyone can express their feelings and concerns."

"That sounds like a brilliant idea," Lorraine agreed. "And perhaps we can also include a neutral party, someone who can mediate and ensure the conversation stays productive."

Evelyn’s smile grew. "I think I’m looking at that someone right now, don’t you think?” She remarked, getting a soft chuckle out of Lorraine.

As they shared a moment of mutual understanding, the vibrant atmosphere of the museum seemed to lighten, a small but significant step toward resolving the underlying tensions.

With the Great Western’s support, it lifts her spirit, Lorraine always proves time and time again she’s as loyal as she was when they united as true friends for the first time.

[tgr-2x5-roleswap-au]

You've Got Mail (Part 1) - The Seagull's Voyage | 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!

[redwryvernwrites]

TRAINTOBER | Day 27 - Record Breaker

The Seagulls are excited to discover that the famous Great Western, City of Truro, is visiting Barrow-in-Furness. Coppernob is less than excited, however.

Furness Railway’s No. 3 ‘Coppernob’ in their Glasshouse at Barrow-in-Furness

~~~

A wild storm had blown through one night. In the morning, the true extent of the damage had been revealed, roofs had flown off houses, trees had been sprayed over the roads and now lorries and cars could not use them.

The rails had been the lifeline, and within a few hours, they had been mostly cleared to allow resources to get through where they were needed most. 

Certainly, Barrow-in-Furness had the advantage of being a major port town but marine transport was far too slow for the mail or the resources would be far too costly to transport via the ocean. 

And so this was how the Great Western’s bright spark, the City of Truro found himself racing towards the North on a mercy mission with supplies and mail from the South. He was passing through LMS territory where once, the bigger engines would jeer and try to spook him, but now they cheered him on, the engine that claimed to beat the LNER’s golden boy.

To them, anything was an improvement over Flying Scotsman, such was the rivalry between the two railways so great.

“He’s here, he’s here! There he goes! The fastest engine in the West!” Came the tittering of engines as he passed and City of Truro arrogantly raised his boiler higher on its frames, basking in the Furness Engine’s praise. 

He loved it, he loved the attention, it validated him, made him strive to be better, to prove to his railway that he was invaluable.

He came upon Barrow-in-Furness station to find it empty and no one to receive him. Truro scowled, deeply annoyed. There was supposed to be somewhere here to meet him to authorise and check his mail run. Oh he did so hate being made to wait.

“This place used to run a lot better before Grouping,” a voice called to him. “Sad sorry lot these LMS fellas. Too much area to oversee makes them slack at the top. Things fall the cracks you see.”

Truro looked over to the grand structure nearby, a magnificent glasshouse with ornate designs framed an older-looking engine with a strange globe-like firebox and a boiler like that of a think barrel. 

He had heard tell of this engine. The fiery red Coopernob, they called him with a personality to match his paint.

“Well, the Great Western Railway takes pride in doing things the correct way and not allowing things to slip through the cracks,” Truro boasted. “I’m the City of Truro. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

The red engine’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted into a thin line as his gaze grew critical of the Great Western engine before him. 

“You boast that the Great Western way fills in its cracks yet here you are, breaking records behind their backs and making yourself a damn nuisance and a poor role model to the younger engines here,” Coppernob suddenly spoke harshly of Truro and the Great Western was shocked.

“Excuse me?” Truro spluttered. He’d heard that Coppernob could be a right ass but he hadn’t been expecting to be quite this upfront about it.

“You’ve got the young ones all a titter with your supposed Record Breaking run,” Coppernob scoffed deeply annoyed. “Now that you’re here they’ll be all caught up in their own heads rather than focusing on work.”

“Excuse me for wanting to be something more than the purpose I was created for!” City of Truro scoffed, annoyed. “What right do you to be judging me anyway, sitting pretty in your little glass house?”

“My judgement comes from decades of experience young one,” Coppernob disputed. “I have more than half a century over you and you do not look like much to me. Just another young upstart who thinks he can bend the rules due to his fame.”

Truro just snorted in response and turned his attention to a Larger Seagull approaching the station, presumably the one to takeover his train.

The Seagull squeaked at the sight of him.

“City- City of Truro! It’s an honour to meet you!” Number 24 squeaked. “My brother would be beside himself to meet you but he’s on the Island of Sodor.” 

“Haha well if you see him again then tell him I send my regards!” Truro winked and him and the Seagull made a strange noise in response. “But who knows, maybe one day I’ll visit there myself, you never know!”

“His, his name is Edward if you happen to meet him!” 

“Sudrian Number 2, I think you will find,” Coppernob interjected and Truro glanced at him. 

Ray of sunshine this one was, wasn’t he?

Not wanting to cause more fuss, Truro simply smiled and gathered his steam again.

“Well this was… fun, but I must be off,” the City Class smiled. “Cracks to fill and all that.”

Coppernob frowned but said nothing more as the Larger Seagull gave a shrill peep goodbye to the engine.

“Good-bye Mr Truro, thanks for helping us out!” 24 called and with a blast of his whistle, the City of Truro disappeared down the line. 24 glanced at Coppernob. “Interesting fellow, isn’t he? I won’der if we’ll see him again.”

Coppernob said nothing, but he had a feeling that he would end up meeting that engine again. Just in ways he would have never have anticipated.

~~~

I always find it hard to write Coppernob. He’s so different from the other engines because he comes from a time of different values and it’s hard to mesh him with the others. He always ends up very antagonistic even when I don’t want him to be. Still, I did want to give him a little more time in the spotlight because he is a deeply important engine in history.

It’s so rare that anything like him gets preserved in the same way that he did. 

You’ll notice that young Truro is a little more like Scotsman in personality than he is currently. Before everything, Truro was full of life but sadly, a lot of things took that childish joy away from him. 

[the-cerene-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)

[cerenemuxse]

TGR but There's a Roleswap - Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - Lonely

Goodbye Fat Controller (Season 19 Episode 25)

Word Count: 706

The story can be found at @tgr-2x5-roleswap-au for easier access.

~

Before Edward knew it, he was back in his shed at the Furness Railway Trust’s temporary headquarters, located near Derby Works. A few days had passed since he’d returned from the Great Railway Show and all was quiet. He was no longer near Coppernob, who was returned to the National Railway Museum. Thank goodness was all that he could think of the moment the older engine was taken away, looking forward to enjoying the quiet for a while. To give it a rest before feeling lonely again that is.

That was the idea but it didn’t work out as such. The moment his temporary crew left him alone, it felt too quiet. It was much more lonely. The absence of engines was stronger than before.

And he absolutely despised it.

Edward felt agitated the day after his return and felt that way ever since. The "shed," as they all called it, was small and bland from the inside. He was typically surrounded by its cream-white concrete walls, facing the metal shed door.

The volunteers of the Furness Railway Trust would occasionally bring him out but he never went farther than the tiny yard surrounding the area. British Railways wouldn't allow him on the traffic lines unless he absolutely needed to so there was no interaction with other engines for him.

"W-When dae I leave?" Edward asked the volunteer attending him.

And by attending him, the job was as simple as just keeping him company.

"Next week," replied the volunteer.

"Where?"

"Edward, you know that's a surprise!"

The Larger Seagull engine huffed.

The elder volunteer chuckled. "You know, you're more…" His words drifted into a hum.

"...more…?"

"Talkative," the volunteer admitted. "It feels like just yesterday you weren't able to talk."

"I've… I can talk."

"Let me be more clear. It feels like just yesterday that you weren't able to talk properly. Why, the day before you left for the show, you were just starting to form sentences. Now you're speaking with more clarity."

"Och."

"What's wrong?" asked the volunteer, noticing the solemn tone.

Edward sighed. "It's… It’s lonely."

"But you have us."

"Thon's no' whit I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

"There's nah other engines."

The volunteer eyed him suspiciously.  "I thought you didn't like the company of other engines."

"Ma siblings-"

"Anyone except your siblings."

"Well, nah, but…"

"But…?" The volunteer leaned forward.

"It's nice- It’s nice bein' around other nice engines, even wit' yer past."

"Well, they don't know-"

"They dae."

"Pardon?"

"They dae. Those engines frae the North Western Railway. They're nice."

"But didn't you have a bit of a run-in with one of them?" asked the volunteer cautiously. "Everyone knows what happened when you got left behind on Sodor."

"I did. I apologizit. He didnae take it at first. He scarit me a bit," said Edward. "He was a bit… a bit rude."

"But you kept looking for him. Were you trying to pick a fight?"

Edward immediately frowned. "I wisnae!" he huffed out, pissed off.

"Alright, alright!" immediately exclaimed the volunteer. "I just wanted to make sure."

Edward wasn't convinced, looking unamused and nervous at the volunteer.

"Now what about that engine?" the volunteer asked, hoping to divert the conversation. "Did he help you or not?"

With a hum, he replied. "Nah. But then I found him… later thon day. We talkit for a bit."

"About what?"

"Aboot ourselves. We told stories. It wis nice tae jist talk. It's nice tae have a friend."

"A friend?" He was surprised. "You made a friend?"

"Aye…?" Old Coppernob's words started hurling back at him. "Is thon bad? Am I no' allowit tae?"

"Of course, not! This is a good thing, Edward," he reassured. "If anything, you'll be fine when you come into contact with Esmeralda."

"Who?"

"That GNR Stirling Single. The one built back in eighteen-seventy."

"The Stirling A-Ane?"

"Yes-!"

"Excuse me! Quinn!" interrupted the voice of another volunteer, a younger man. Both Edward and the older man peered over at the young volunteer. The young volunteer lifted his arm and waved around an enclosed envelope. “There’s a letter-!”

“Leave it in the office, Reginald,” quickly interrupted Quinn. He looked back at Edward. “Now, as I was saying-”

“But it’s for Edward!”

~

Tysm for reading! To anyone who commented on the now-deleted Ao3 upload, thank you so much. 😭 They mean a lot.

At the time of posting this, there is a sequel in the works! When will the first chapter be up? I have no idea. I threw myself another project due to my recent hyperfixation of Helluva Boss. Also got stuff going on irl (exam week is upcoming and im on my way to fail a class-)

[putuponpercy]

absolute yelling at the model coppernob I saw today that thing was cat sized I repeat cat sized coppernob

[askyoungiron]

So Coppernob, what sort of things does the Furness consider to be its core values?

Coppernob: You see the Furness Railway prided itself on doing things as they should be done. By the book and no stone left unturned. One expects its engines to be the same, no matter if they were sent away to other railways or even if those shoddy LMS fools took over.

The Furness Railway bred proper engines, ones who knew how to conduct themselves and knew what a proper day's work was!

[theflyingkipper]

apologies for the rambling

I don't know if im the only one in the Fandom whom feels we are missing a great chance to jump on this but i feel like Neville as the sibling to the Q1 in the nrm. and the nrm Q1 is just a silen menace to the other nrm locos and they all fear the Q1 in the sence that it worked its rear off during ww2 and still worked after it no mater what until it was retired. plus I imagine coppernob enjoys seeing the Q1 glare at the snooty engines and only drops the military aditude atound Neville since i feel like Neville is the youngist of the Q1 family

no offense but I think you send me a lot of things that would be great as your own post and not something you submit- you have a lot of really cool ideas and im not sure why you put them in my inbox instead of posting them yourself

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

In Buccleuch Docks (Full Scene)

Posted a snippet of this *mumble mumble* ago, promised that the full scene would be delivered, and then forgot about it... until today, on my BoCo high.

What does a Coppernob and Edward reunion in 1964 have to do with BoCo, you ask? Well, this scene is merely Nobby getting a cameo in a big Edward/BoCo WIP I've been tinkering with... on the side...

But this sort of stands alone and should be of interest to Nobbyverse fans. However, this scene is not canon to Bird at Barrow Central (Coppernob not making a visit to Barrow post-bombing until 1996). Indeed, this scene for that matter is based on a rather idiosyncratic interpretation of what was going on with Edward and the N.W.R. immediately prior to the events of Main Line Engines...

Bonus: You'd otherwise not get to "meet" Hal and Sphyrna the Hammerhead Cranes for ages yet...

Warning: It may not be "canon" to Bird at Barrow Central but it is the same fellow so. Be prepared for the angst. Edward's got some stuff goin' on in this WIP too — even if he's a bit in denial about it.

Buccleuch Docks (1964)

Coppernob wasn't expecting visitors at that hour. The sun hadn't yet put in an appearance, so there were no passengers disembarking from ships. Even the Steelworks were quiet — apparently, operations were no longer 'round-the-clock. A few of the Twenties had been able to make a visit, even though Coppernob was at the wrong dock for them to swing by on their usual route, and he expected to see more of them before his week was out. But not at the crack of dawn.

The last Furness engine he had not counted on seeing at all. Coppernob had been loaned to B.R. and stationed at Buccleuch Docks for the week in a blatant attempt to steal some rail-enthusiast thunder from the North Western region, and he well knew it. Odds were that Charles Hatt understood he was being snubbed, and he might have warned his own famous engines off crossing the line and feeding into the ancient engine's publicity. 

But the Seagull showed up. Albeit before six a.m. there was a certain amount of discretion involved.

That's what taking the morning post will do for you.

After dropping it off for the mainland engine the Seagull navigated the yard until he was alongside Coppernob's makeshift plinth. His eyes widened when he saw the damage on the older engine's dome and boiler, but Coppernob was well used to that, and for that matter the Seagulls were well used to pretending not to stare. "Good morning, Nobby!"

"'Morning, Two."

At that the Seagull blinked, and his boiler gave a little shudder. "Oh, that still feels so wrong!"

"And I still don't see a nameplate."

"Nobody calls me that."

Coppernob snorted. "Oh yes, you're riding rather high these days, aren’t you? A book named after you and everything. It's lucky you have me to keep your wheels in trim."

"It isn't that. My new name would sound wrong coming from you, too. But you might use my old Furness number... there's no one else left to use it."

"That," said Coppernob, slow and deliberate (a mighty bulwark, warding off sentiment) "would be arrant disrespect to your new owners."

"Ah. And you're famously deferential, of course, to humans not named Ramsden."

Coppernob rolled his eyes. "Your lot always fancied yourselves barristers," he muttered... not quite as crossly, perhaps, as he'd intended. "Though that Charles Hatt is quite a muckety-muck among those national rail types, these days."

"Isn't he just."

"I can remember that boy boarding L.M.S. trains after holidays to return to his apprenticeship… he was slimmer, then."

There was a pause, as both watched the great yellow-and-black hammerhead crane slowly swing a piece of container freight. Coppernob was impassive as ever, but Edward was smiling.

It was the blue engine who next spoke. "Town has never been the same without you… I expect you’re getting a good many visitors here?"

"By the train-load," said Coppernob, matter-of-factly. "They really ought to have put me at the new station. Me being here is a disruption to dock operations."

"They may move you, yet. Have you seen the new station?"

"No. But you needn't wrack your smokebox thinking how to break the news gently. I know very well how ugly it is."

Edward smiled again, tamping down a nostalgic sadness that he knew Coppernob wouldn't appreciate. (Or that he would appreciate, but would take aim at anyway, by reflex.) "Gordon complained about the new station every night for two years."

"He left off complaining too soon." Coppernob eyed the younger engine, committing several mechanical alterations to memory. "Are those new frames?"

"No?"

"Don't take that tone with me. Well, if they're the same old, then that paint is doing wonders. New boiler?"

"No."

"Then why did they raise it?"

"They did swap out for a new one for a bit, while mine was in repairs, and that one required these braces. It seems they liked the look. I'm still not so sure."

"No one cares what you think, son," said Coppernob dryly. "If you please your directors, it's all that matters."

"Thanks, Nobby. Can always count on you."

"Always. You're still taking main line trains, then?"

"Not often." Edward grew quite animated. "My friend BoCo usually takes this train. He offered it to me for a day so that I could come see you. He's a class 28 — you've seen them, haven't you? The main line diesel-electrics that are stabled here. Do you know, they were built by the company that merged with Vickers?"

"All right, son." Coppernob eyed him askance. Not exactly reproving, but bemused. "I didn't need your friend's life story." A faint blush began to grow on the Seagull's smokebox. "What do you do these days, when you're not swapping jobs with dodgy diesels?"

"He's not dodgy."

"Mechanically, son. Mechanically. They have something of a reputation."

"Their engines aren't well-made," Edward admitted reluctantly. "BoCo's very clever about managing around it, though."

"Ah," said Coppernob. "So you have something in common, is that right? But this isn't what I asked."

Edward twisted his lips briefly, the locomotive equivalent of a shrug. "I manage my yard, like always. I don't do much banking anymore, the trains are beyond me, but I help out here and there with branch line goods."

"Hmm. The steelworks engines say they heard your Controller uses you as something of an under-manager."

"The steelworks engines!"

"Yes. They're ex-Furness, you know. Well, the steam engines, obviously."

"Oh, I know. But I never knew them, you know. I hadn't expected they knew anything of me." Honestly the Sodor engine was surprised they were still extant.

"The Twenties have always kept up with the doings of the world. And they knew I'd want to know what was going on with you. Is what they say true?"

"No? Well, sort of. People have been saying I’m a manager now as a bit of a joke. Controller has put me in charge of trialling our newcomers for different things."

Coppernob's expression didn't change, except for his eyebrows to slowly rise. "That's a fair bit of responsibility."

"Well, I've been training up other engines since the '20s. But I'm expected to make recommendations now, and that's new... I suppose. The real difference is that this is fast becoming my only use."

Something between melancholy and bitterness stained those last words. Coppernob acknowledged it only by silence. They spent several minutes watching the activity in the docks. A great bulk carrier was being loaded at one pier. At another a tanker was slowly being siphoned of some of its precious liquid cargo.

"What's it like," asked Edward, "being back?"

Coppernob eyes followed the crate's progress upwards and then over to deck before answering. "The aluminum doesn't seem to do as brisk a trade as the hemitate did."

"No."

Coppernob was still not quick to speak. Edward, however, was these days a practiced listener, and wore him down. "More raw wool and foodstuffs go out. I suppose there are not so many locals to feed as there once were."

"Yes."

"The new crane seems strong."

"Oh, Sphyrna's very good. She's nice, too."

Coppernob gazed at the younger engine, eyes hooded against some hidden emotion. Or joke. "I suppose it would be ungracious of me to say I prefer the old one?"

"Oh," teased the ex-Seagull, "very."

"So many things these days, that I’m not to say."

"Of course you miss Hal," said Edward, more seriously. "There never was such a crane."

"His design was very common. But none braver, no." Coppernob snorted, but his heart wasn't in it. "People make much of what I did in the blitz, which was nothing. Hal kept this place going day and night. He couldn't take shelter when everyone else could. Nice easy target. But they had to take him out before they slowed him down. He never missed a beat."

"No."

"I wonder if the people remember him."

"The locals do," said Edward quietly. "One still hears him spoken of, sometimes. Our new Caledonian engines came and asked me if I knew who they were talking about, and they've only been here a couple of years."

Coppernob seemed to consider some more, eyes continuing to examine the yard. 

Finally, with an air of great deliberation, he gave his verdict. "I think my lot ran this place better."

Edward laughed, though subsiding to a diplomatic murmur when he spoke. "That's no very great boast. I hear those Hudswell Clark shunters are rather troublesome."

"To be sure. I've seen for myself." Coppernob, though to be sure his voice had been low to begin with, did not trouble to lower it further. Might have raised it, even. "Not open cheek and frank mischief, either. They've some sly game going. I don't know exactly what scheme they have, but whatever they’re about I know that a hundred years ago you could be scrapped for it without a second's thought. Do they try tricks with your lot?"

"Well, we generally shunt our own goods here. But no, they don't seem to dare give us trouble." Edward heard himself, and chuckled. "That may sound rather brash. It's because of our Controller. Though to be sure Gordon and our Scotsengines are plenty intimidating, even on their own." He gave Coppernob another would-be discreet survey. He was better at it than he and his lot had been back in 1908, that much was for sure. "How's the museum, Nobby?"

Coppernob thought it over. "All right. The Government projected 140 thousand visitors last year, and we had nearly 175."

"Oh, congratulations are in order."

"Government's still not happy. Somehow the money doesn't work out. But it sounds as though the money never is quite right, for a museum. I reckon things are going fair enough."

Edward waited, until seeing that was as much as he was going to get. "Do you like the other engines and things?"

"They're a little mad." Coppernob's mouth quirked as he owned: "So I get on with them. But don't pump me for tales about the others. Unlike some engines I hear of, we make it a point to guard each other's privacy."

"Well, then. Are many of the visitors Londoners? Or do they mostly travel in?"

"About half and half."

"... and do you like them?"

"A few, I suppose. Most I neither like nor dislike — they’re just part of the crowd."

Edward make a little hiss of amused exasperation. "Yes, but — are — are you happy there, Nobby?"

For his trouble he found himself, predictably, pinned by one of Coppernob's most inscrutable gazes. Predictable... and yet in years past it would have been more a blazing glare.

Certainly old Nobby had mellowed in the past few decades. But whether that was something to celebrate or something to mourn was unclear.

"Happy?" muttered Coppernob. "What is this preoccupation everyone has with happiness. In our day no one was happy or unhappy... men no more than their machines. You were decent or shiftless. Honest or ne'er-do-well. If you were happy you were born well or you were dead."

"Yes," agreed Edward. "I think it's been getting better, too. But now it's you who hasn't answered my question. Do you miss Barrow very much, or are you happy at Clapham?"

It hadn’t been easy to make himself ask. And when Edward saw his blank expression, saw how the ancient engine struggled with the question, he suddenly understood that none of them had ever before enquired after Nobby’s well-being, not really. No one had dared think of it. The entire railway, in Edward's day, had run on Coppernob being exactly what they all needed him to be: a source of legitimacy for the directors, entertainment for locals, an attraction for visitors, a role model for engines in service, an ally for the retirees, a minder for the young, a rod of correction for the errant, a reservoir of memory; the old number three seemed to have fulfilled all that was wanted of him effortlessly, with his own feelings immaterial. 

And now Coppernob blinked at him. Only vaguely annoyed, instead of wrathful.

"Oh, I'm all right enough. I miss Barrow as it was — but it's not coming back. Better to be among other engines like me and have something to do, than to watch strangers run this town. Clapham is a very comfortable place to sit around and be a well-polished curiosity. Though I rather miss Horwich."

"Horwich!" That had all been a bit surprising, a bit new. But it was that last sentence that really shocked the ex-Seagull. "I should have thought..."

It was Coppernob's turn to twist his lips. "I should have thought, too." Horwich Works had been a curse on Furness engines after the Grouping, its appetite for scrapping younger and younger engines never seeming to abate. In the immediate aftermath of the bombing of Barrow station Edward had needed to make several inquires before learning Coppernob's whereabouts, and the news "taken to Horwich" had chilled him to the firebox. He'd been genuinely surprised several years later when he'd had news of Coppernob putting in an appearance at some centenary celebration in Manchester... alive. "But it's not as if I had to see their scrap lines. If anything I felt closer to the rest there than here. Anyway, I liked being in the shop. There was always something going on — work-y, engine-y sort of things. The workshop really is the heart of a railway and while I was there I could almost feel... But then again, it was dark and noisy, and not the sort of place children come to visit. And I suppose these days B.R. is mismanaging it into the ground. I'm fortunate to be just where I am. Doubtless some other old thing is rusting away in storage because I have their spot at Clapham." And on that note, Coppernob seemed to feel confidences were over. "Tell that absurd Mogul to come over before I've gone."

"I will. Thomas sends his regards. He can't possibly get over this way, but he wanted to say hullo."

"Thomas... ah, yes, that's the little lost sidetank, isn't it." Coppernob's expression didn't change. "Haven't heard that name in a minute."

"Oh yes. I'm sure children who visit transport museums never ask every steam engine they see if they know Thomas the Train."

"Please tell me he has no idea how famous he is."

"Fortunately not. He knows he's a fixture on Sodor but not how far that fame extends. It's about the only secret Controller's ever tried to have everyone keep and succeeded."

"Speaking of fame, I don't know if you noticed that man in street wear. He's taken at least one photograph of us and will probably take more at close-range. You meant to be discreet — will your Controller be angry?"

"Oh, no. Why would he? No, I only wanted to come when it was quiet so as to not get you in trouble. I suppose the whole point in B.R. having you out here was to try to overshadow our region."

"Oh, it was. It very much was."

"Then ought I head off the man with the camera?"

"They care. I don't."

Coppernob gave a secret, wicked smirk, as if to his own self, and Edward grinned. For an instant it was the old Nobby, a Nobby that for the Sodor engine had been bumped askew on his pedestal since 1915, the fearless golden hero of his youth. "Right. Trust you for that. Though I'm afraid I must be saying good-bye. I'm to pick up that petrol and take it back over the bridge."

"Write more often."

"More often! You never answered."

"Perhaps I didn't. Do it anyway."

"Only, I thought I must have annoyed you."

"Son, your lot has been annoying me since before the turn of the century. Don't break tradition at this late date." The old engine looked typically indifferent. Edward knew that expression very well, too well to be fooled by it, but he looked his fill anyway, re-committing it to memory. Coppernob seemed to be doing the same with him, though if he really were then he was much more subtle about it. "After all, you're my only source for news of that blasted island. No more than half of any letter about that Vickers diesel of yours, if you please."

"Very well. And I'll pass on word to James and the others today. I'm so glad to have seen you again, Nobby."

Edward half expected an idle remark in return that he, handsome old Coppernob, was of course well worth the seeing. But Nobby's playful mood — or what passed as a playful mood, for Nobby — had already passed over. He was staring ahead listlessly. Perhaps the mention of tradition had sent him on a reverie. Perhaps he was gloomy at the thought of a new day entertaining modern, unsatisfactory Barrovians. Edward did not imagine for a second that Coppernob's heart was breaking to say good-bye to him. The old engine was too tough for that.

Indeed, it seemed he was too tough to even acknowledge his departure. Edward was about to give up waiting for a response, and he gave a whistle to signal his movement.

He hadn't quite gotten off his brakes, though, when Coppernob, voice urgent and somehow bare, stopped him with a single word.

"Thirty-Four. Don't — " Coppernob broke off for an instant. Then he took a deep breath and finished, as if angry at whatever invisible force had stopped him. "Don't let them do to you what they did to me."

Edward looked over at him.

There was a new Coppernob there. One he had never shown any of the Seagulls. One he probably had shown very few engines at all.

The old engine grinned twistedly, as if to mask it. "That is what young Hatt wants, isn't it? Have you get the newcomers settled, run out your boiler ticket, then stick you on a plinth, probably at that little station of yours. The railway continues to benefit from your experience without your operational costs. I remember. I know how it goes. Don't let them, don’t you dare let them. Better scrap than that. Preservation isn’t any sort of life."

Coppernob didn't look a bit sad. But the intensity of each hissed word betrayed years of solitary pain, and Edward was terribly shaken.

"I — I can't let them scrap me," said Edward numbly. "I've been fighting to prevent that for ages."

"I know."

"Not only for myself, Nobby. I'm not a coward, I know I'm no better than all my brothers who faced the torch. But it would set a precedent for the others — Thomas and the others. I must keep going, at least until they're safe — "

Coppernob gave a harsh laugh, humorless. "Save your puff. I know. Don't I know! You mustn't fall into every single trap I did, son. Anyway, what of it? Do you suppose your friends would be happy in that position? Could you stand by, and watch it happen to them?"

"I — don't know," said Edward, still blank. The truth was that he'd assumed that the younger engines, most of them more popular than he, would be kept operational even if the future Nobby predicted for him (a future that he himself indeed saw coming) came to pass.

Coppernob's gaze was piercing. "I tried to fight them. I knew what a terrible thing they were demanding of me. You won't even try to resist — I taught you too well, didn't I? Duty above all else — that's a rule for a younger engine. It was a good rule for all those other poor sods with their short, normal lives. But you... maybe it makes no difference. It didn't for me. But fight anyway. Once you give your railway fifty years of service, you're allowed to say no, damn it. Loudly, and often."

And then Coppernob looked away. Clearly he thought there was nothing more to be said. 

After a dazed moment Edward whistled again, limply, and chuffed off.

He almost forgot the petrol altogether.

[vacationsoup]

New Post has been published on https://vacationsoup.com/top-21-things-to-do-for-free-in-york/

Top 21 Things to do for Free in York

York is one of the UK’s gems. A wonderfully preserved medieval city, walking down its cobbled streets is like taking a trip into the past. With a wealth of attractions, you could happily spend a couple of weeks in York and not get bored. Even better, there’s an abundance of free activities to do and places to visit. Here’s a guide to the top 21 things to do for free in York.

Outdoor Spaces and Activities

The Shambles Possibly the most famous part of York, The Shambles is an old street in the city centre with a number of overhanging timber-framed buildings, some of which date back to the 14th century. The name comes from its old Anglo-Saxon name Fleshammels, literally translating to ‘flesh-shelves’, as the street used to be filled with butchers’ shops and it was possible to see the cuts of meat hanging in the windows. Now the butchers’ shops don’t exist, but as you walk down this delightful cobblestone street, you will find a great mix of shops and restaurants. The street is also the location of the home of Saint Margaret Clitherow, who was married to a butcher on the street and was pressed to death for harbouring Catholic priests; you can still see the priest hole fireplace where she hid priests at number ten, now a cufflinks shop.

  The Snickelways As well as the Shambles, there are dozens of small streets running off the main thoroughfares in the city centre of York. Most of these narrow streets, big enough only for pedestrians to pass down, are medieval, although a few are more modern. The name ‘Snickelways’ is a portmanteau of the words snicket, ginnel and alleyway, coined by Mark W. Jones in 1983. It is cool to wander around the city seeking out all these little streets which usually have quirky names like Mad Alice Lane, Pope’s Head Alley and Grape Lane. York City Walls The impressive city walls of York have guarded the city for over 700 years. At approximately two miles long, they are the longest medieval walls in England. A walk along the walls takes about two hours and takes you past five main gateways, one Victorian gateway, one postern and 45 towers. Free Guided Walking Tours There are a number of companies which offer free walking tours of the city. The Association of Voluntary Guides leads a two-hour tour taking you past some of York’s biggest attractions and sights, including York Minster, Monk Bar, St Mary’s Abbey and The Shambles, as well as telling you many stories about the city and its history. The great thing about this tour company is that not only is the tour completely free, they don’t insist on tips either. Other walking tour companies to consider are: White Rose York Tours; Footprints Tours; and Strawberry Tours. The Cat Trail Since records began in the city of York, cats have been considered lucky and have played a major part in city life. For about two centuries, statues of cats have been placed on buildings in an attempt to frighten away rats and mice and therefore reduce the risk of disease; they were also believed to ward off evil spirits and to generally bring good luck to the occupants of the property. It is possible to download a Cat Trail map from the website of the Cat Gallery; not only will you be able to seek out the cats of York, but it will take you past some of the most beautiful parts of the city. Shambles Market In the heart of the city is Shambles Market, a vibrant market consisting of 85 different stalls selling a wide variety goods, such as fresh fruit and vegetables, clothing, books, cosmetics, flowers, crafts and gifts. There’s also a really great street food area; be sure to try out the North African and Levantine food. The market is open seven days a week from 7am. Shakespeare’s Village Shakespeare’s Rose Theatre is Europe’s firs pop-up theatre. Although you have to pay for the plays which are performed, it is free to wander around the Shakespeare’s Village the theatre is set in. Located in the car park next to Clifford’s Tower, the village captures the atmosphere of a medieval village, with oak-framed, reed-thatched buildings offering the finest Yorkshire food and drink along with wagon entertainment, minstrels and even a lovely Elizabethan garden with flower and herb beds. The theatre and village only pop up in York during the summer months; in 2019, the village and performances will start in June and run until the beginning of September. Museums and Libraries National Railway Museum One of the city’s most popular museums, the National Railway Museum is the largest museum of its kind in Britain. The museum details the history of rail transport and the impact it has had on society. It has a collection of over 100 locomotives and around 300 other items connected with trains and railways. Some of the most impressive trains in its collection include: a 1938 Mallard; a working replica of the steam locomotive the Rocket; an 1846 Coppernob; and a 1976 Shinkansen bullet train, the only one on display outside of Japan. Other highlights of the museum are: the George Cross medal awarded posthumously to train driver Wallace Oakes for staying on a burning train after it had been involved in an accident; the Royal trains, including a carriage that was used by Queen Victoria; and the warehouse, which houses a permanent exhibition telling the story of the Flying Scotsman.

The Bar Convent Founded in 1686, the Bar Convent is England’s oldest living convent. Originally founded as a school for girls, it still has members of the Congregation of Jesus living there today. Housed in grade I-listed 18th-century buildings, they are open to the public. Here you can visit an exhibition on the interesting history of the convent; at the time the convent was founded, practising Catholicism was very dangerous, so the ladies who lived there had to be very secretive about what they were doing. You will learn about radical nun Mary Ward who traversed the Alps twice on foot and get the chance to hide yourself in a priest hole. There’s also a cafe and accommodation on site.

Parks and Gardens Rowntree Park Located just a ten- to 15-minute walk south of the city centre, Rowntree Park is a wonderful place to take a long stroll. As well as the well-kept gardens, there is also a lake, canal and water cascade which are home to a number of swans, ducks and Canada geese. There’s plenty of facilities to make use of, such as tennis courts, a skate park, a basketball court and bowling greens. If the weather is nice, there are also some picnic areas for you to enjoy a meal in the sun. Kids will enjoy the excellent play area which has climbing frames and a zip wire. Dean’s Park Located north of York Minster, the main draw of Dean’s Park is that it offers spectacular views of this fabulous church. Although you need to pay to enter the Minster, it is free to admire the wonderful exterior. It’s a lovely spot to take some time to relax during a hard day’s sightseeing, and during the summer there are places to buy ice cream and soft drinks. Yorkshire Museum Gardens and Observatory Set in the grounds of St Mary’s Abbey, Yorkshire Museum Gardens is a great way to enjoy some peace and quiet in the middle of the city. There’s a lot of things to see in the gardens. It houses the oldest working observatory in Yorkshire, built between 1832 and 1833; the telescope inside was built by Thomas Cooke, the man who went on to build what was then the largest telescope in the world. The observatory is also home to a clock dating back to 1811 which tells the time based on the positioning of the stars; it is the clock that all others in the city were set by back in the 19th century. There is also an abundance of flora and 40 species of bird to spot. Homestead Park One of the most beautiful natural areas of the city, Homestead Park is located in Clifton, 1 ½ miles from the city centre. The park’s main features include: a wild flower meadow; a tree-lined avenue; herbaceous and extensive shrub borders; and the Backhouse pond and rock garden. There’s loads of facilities for children in the popular play area, such as a paddling pool, table tennis, a monkey gym and helter skelter rides. The park also offer leaflets with different walks, such as several tree-trail walks and a wildlife walk. Yorkshire Lavender Technically not in York itself but only a short 15-mile drive away, Yorkshire Lavender Gardens and Specialist Plant Nursery offers some of the best views in the county, being set in the Howardian Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. As well as the award-winning lavender gardens, there is a sculpture park to explore, a lavender maze to get lost in, a sensory garden, and Highland cattle and lambs to pet. Churches York St Mary’s Dating back to 1020, this beautiful medieval church is known for having the city’s tallest spire, standing at 47 metres high. Having been consecrated in 1958, it spent a few decades as a heritage centre before being transformed into a contemporary art gallery in 2004. Exhibitions change regularly and the church makes an ambient place to view the artworks. St Michael le Belfry Known primarily as the church where Guy Fawkes was baptised in 1570, St Michael le Belfry is an impressive building. It is free to enter but tours of the church are run entirely by volunteers, so it is best to check before you visit whether it is possible for you to enter. St Mary’s Abbey Established in 1088, St Mary’s Abbey was once one of the wealthiest and most powerful Benedictine monasteries in England. The history of the abbey connects two very important events in England’s history: the abbey was built by order of William the Conqueror as a way of exerting control of the north, and was destroyed under the reign of Henry VIII as a consequence of his Reformation of the church. Visitors can see the remains of the nave and crossing of the abbey church. The walls surrounding the abbey, built in the 1260s, are considered to be the most complete set of abbey walls in the country.

Festivals and Events York Food and Drink Festival One of the most popular festivals in the city, this year the York Food and Drink Festival are running three events in 2019: the Chocolate Festival in April; the Taster Festival in June; and the main festival in September. It’s a complete not-for-profit event; the festivals and demos are free to enter and any money that is made from food and drinks sales goes back into funding for the festival the next year. Their aim is to promote local food and drink producers, to put York on the map as a culinary destination and to provide educational workshops on food and cooking.

Jorvik Viking Festival Possibly the city’s most famous festival, the Jorvik Viking Festival celebrates York’s history as a Viking settlement. It takes place in February every year to coincide with the Viking festival of ‘Jolablot’, which was a celebration to say goodbye to winter and herald the coming of spring. Although you have to pay for some of the events, there are also free events during the week-long festivities. Events include workshops, talks and re-enactments. York Festival of Traditional Dance Taking place in September every year, for two days you will hear the sounds of jingling bells, tapping clogs and clashing sticks during the York Festival of Traditional Dance. Throughout the city you will see over 100 dancers and musicians performing a wide variety of dance styles. York Christmas Market From November to December every year, York is transformed into even more of a wonderland than it usually is. Tens of wooden chalets set up shop selling all kinds of festive goods. The Christmas standards of mulled wine, hot chestnuts and grilled sausages can be found all around the city centre. Kids will love Santa’s grotto and adults will love Thor’s Tipi, a Scandi pop-up bar complete with warm open fires and cosy fur hides. York is a stunning city to visit whatever the season. And with this list of free things to do, you can enjoy the city for less.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

All hail the mightiest Furness nerd I know of

I've been looking for more information on Nobbys 1996 tour (specifically him being *steamed*) and I've done all the research I can (here) and I've come up with two things I know:

1: I know the engine that was generating the steam was Repulse

and 2: I know Nobby's reaction to it (grit and bear it and internally gloat about how Cornwall would likely throw a fit)

Is there any more information you could enlighten the public with? Both pictures and footage seem elusive..

HELLO and let me take this opportunity to tell you that I've been admiring your username for some time, it's dope 💙

My main source (which I think you've already seen) is this archived article from The Mail, which includes 9 photos.

I found out the info about the saddletank Repulse pumping steam through Coppernob from the archives of Railway Magazine. I don't believe I learned much else from RM. Unfortunately I no longer have access to that archive but what few photos I saw were nowhere near as interesting as the ones from the Mail.

So I'm sorry I can't be more help — however! There are mightier Furness nerds than me, specifically SleeperAgent01 of SIF and twitter and @nictrain123 who used to be on twitter and... tumblr???? I did not realize he had an account here! Tagging him in case he can direct us to any further sources... however you may want to send him an ask because that will send him an email alert (don't know if he's still actively checking this site).

Wish I could be of more help, I'll DM you if I can sniff out anything more.

[cerenemuxse]

Edward being excited, fucking screaming and crying over his baby twin sisters <3 (1900, colorized, SD)

Oh, and Coppernob is there, I guess.

CW: a bunch of unorganized thoughts /srs so if things don't make sense, my apologies. This is a running theme in my blog, haha-

I had names for his sisters but I'm currently going through and renaming them because of a couple names 🙃

ANYWAYS, I am mentally ill for this. Despite all the bullshit he went through (because of his own actions), there are at least a few sweet moments. Those moments being meeting his little sisters. It's tradition to introduce the newest members of a class to the oldest of said group.

But when these two came into his life, things got better for him. However, those twins turned out to be chaotic shits but he still loves them nonetheless. Their names are Hansel and Gretel. While I'm not sure when the actual FR 124 and 125 were built, I'm assuming not the same month. The definition of being twins is dependent on who you ask. For example, Hansel and Gretel were built the same year, 1900, but not the same month. Since they were the two additions around the same time, they considered themselves twins. They're fraternal twins, btw. Don't look identical but they're twins.

FR 22 looks nearly identical to Edward. The similarity is so strong that they used to get mistaken for one another. The differences between them is that FR 22 has a flatter nose, one eye wrinkle, one eyelash, and smaller eyebrows. Other than that, they share the same features.

Each of the Larger Seagulls had one or multiple nicknames. Edward had multiple. The very first nickname he got was "Bunny." This was a reference to the bunny that Alice follows in "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," which is where Edward's given name came from, AND because Edward has the tendency to twitch his nose like a rabbit. <3 The second nickname he garnered was "Seagull" because the idiot loves seafood, ESPECIALLY shrimp. However, this nickname was MOSTLY used by his sisters, who used it very lovingly thank you very much. They all love and support each other, even when disagreements happen.

FR 37 was going to be named Dorothy, but here's the problem. "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" wasn't written until 1900. FR 37 was built in 1896, 4 years prior to the publication of the book. She's the reason why I'm going through and renaming some of them. Hansel and Gretel kept their names. The original names for the rest were Aurora (FR 22), Drizella (FR 34), Anastasia (FR 35), and Cinderella (FR 36). Part of the reason why I'm going through and renaming them is to add some Scottish fairytales, too.

Also, if Edward had stayed on the FR and "TGR but There's a Roleswap" never happened, he would've seen all but one of his little sisters be withdrawn and scrapped. FR 21 was the second to last of the Larger Seagulls to be withdrawn and (possibly) scrapped, leaving FR 37 as the last remaining member for an entire year before facing a similar fate. The first to be withdrawn would've been Hansel, FR 124, the second youngest. That had to fucking hurt when he found out that the twins' lives were cut short, both having a short service lifetime.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

More on Nobby's social life in preservation

Some buddies of special note:

GER 87: They were together in their Clapham Transport Museum days too, and iirc when the time came they were pulled up to York on the same train. 87's just a very nice lad, uncomplicated, not a bad rivet in 'im. His departure for a smaller museum a few years back was upsetting for him and his friends. Kudos to all these old sods, that time around they finally dropped some of the stiff-upper-lip-ness with which they had pulled through all their long lives... internet therapy is going great!

L&YR Aspinall 1008: An even older friend, from Nobby's days at Horwich Works... and had to make a tank engine friend, you know; life is hardly worth living without one. 1008 is a personable engine, though her flaw is that she prides herself on being "a card." "a wag." "a real live wire!" :D She's good fun. Sorta.

MR Composite Coach: They didn't meet till NRM and in fact it wasn't until well into their tenure there that they discovered that they have a similar outlook. They're both very smart and shrewd and skeptical, and that means that, after a long day entertaining guests and behaving themselves, they can have some great late-night private chinwags where they just read everyone else for filth.

NER 1275: He and 1275 (sometimes known informally as "Hip," sometimes as "Bouch") are an especially close pair in the NRM phase of their lives.  They have a lot of life experiences in common so, when it comes to the most important things, they get each other. But that doesn't mean they are always or even often exactly of one mind. Hip loves rousing music hall numbers, sunny showtunes, even had a disco phase! And, as far as audiobooks, he merely tolerates Nobby's dry, heavy nonfiction until it's his turn for them to listen to stories, veering towards fantasy and adventure. The two of them are affectionately resigned to each other's regrettable tastes.

Notably these friends are all pretty low-key and on the whole less famous than him. Coppernob will insist, year in and year out, that he stays strictly out of the internal politics of the more august preserved UK engines. But he says this because he's lying to you and to himself, lol.

It is true that he was shellshocked and felt out of place when first removed from Barrow. The preservation circuit felt so intimidating and cosmopolitan at times. And even these days, now very much at home in the NRM, he tends to be better at keeping his opinions to himself than he used to ("pah! leave me out of it. i'm not anybody.") But this only heightens his impact once he finally breaks his silence, and the truth is that he relishes that.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Great job on the new story, I loved seeing how close Coppernob is with all the engines. He's a grouch but I really feel like they respect him. And he cares about them. He is proud of 7! Mr Smotes KNOWS that he would have reassured 127! And his interaction with 3 almost makes me think that 3 is like a mentee or son to him, after all 3 does have Nobbys old number. 

All this makes me wanna cry because I know it wont last. It makes me wonder, does Nobby have any friends in preservation life? 

Omg, thank you so much. All the gold stars for you — you picked up everything I was putting down. 😭  Nobby might have been bullying the life out of that poor kid fireman but in the background I wanted to give glimpses showing how he really has better feeling for fellow engines than he does for humans (not that he’s one to be demonstrative about it).

Yes, I never said it but I wrote the bit with 3 (in Chapter 3, for those wondering wtf we’re talking about) firmly thinking that this is a young engine that he might have a special relationship with! 3 learned from an early point that it was a great honor to take over THE Number Three’s name. Plus 3 is the first in his class so he has the oldest-kid responsibility complex. Nobby was actually put in store almost immediately after 3 was built so they didn’t know each other for years. Once Nobby was brought out of storage and installed in the station, though, he got a glimpse of 3’s humility and responded to that graciously. 3 must have thought a legend had risen from the dead just to validate him, haha.

And don’t you worry, he certainly does. There’s no replacing your own family and culture of course, but Nobby is not a lonely engine these days.