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ratwithhands · 1 year ago

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I was listening to So Much (For) Stardust and accidentally had too many thoughts in one sitting so we have another AU concept. I don't have a solid name yet so I've just been calling Team Supernova AU.

Long story short:

Ghetsis freezes over Unova's major cities, taking most survivors hostage to join Team Plasma, and leaving several thousands dead from the frost

Emmet, Elesa, and others try fending off the Plasma Frigate in Nimbasa but ultimately lose with injuries (Emmet got frozen on his right side)

Emmet takes as many survivors as he can into the tunnels, later joining other groups to his and forming Team Supernova in resistance to Team Plasma

Ingo went missing about a year prior to all of this, so Emmet has already spent a lot of time alone. The only pokemon he has left is Ingo's Chandelure, as the rest did not survive the invasion. He's generally very cold and shut off emotionally as a result, and doesn't really express himself like he used to.

I'll drop more details later, right now the AU in early concept stages so it's essentially a bundle of "what would this be like" and "what if this happened" and "this could be cool". If I have time I'll drop some of the other uniform designs later. Anyways have a good night, see ya.

#submas #submas au #au #emmet #subway master emmet #emmet pokemon #kudari #fanart #Team Supernova AU #a him #I might do the “Death Zone” doodle comic for this AU #long story short: Plasma members caught within Supernova territory get their shredded uniforms hung from the city gates #It's mostly an intimidation tactic on Supernova's part but a large chunk of them do come from dead members 👁👁💦#it's basically just a warning that once you cross the perimeter‚ you are fair game for the patrol squads #There's also the little details/fun add ins #like how working the supply corps is considered the absolute worst‚ most backbreaking job in the team #because everything is transported manually (trains got shut down)‚ so members have to basically drag things through the tunnels #by hand‚ for weeks‚ nonstop #Also how electric type pokemon are the most sought after since all the power is directed to Ghetsis' main city and some key places #so having a portable source of energy is invaluable #which is to say every day Emmet is looking for more joltiks to replace the ones lost #anyways it's late‚ I can't think of much else to write #have a good night and i'll see you later

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weirdowithaquill · 14 days ago

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Traintober 2024: Day 27 - Twisted

Twisted Grin:

TRIGGER WARNING: This is a ghost story, and a dark one. This is your warning to not read if you are easily frightened.

Recently, the Arlesdale Railway had expanded to a couple of new mines, including one at the end of the valley. These mines were going to be brilliant new sources of ballast for the little railway, and Frank was very pleased to have been given the job of helping to build the lines out to them. The railway line snaked its way through the countryside, and all the way to a new town.

A wry old woman watched as Frank and the gangers laid out the prefabricated track, utilising the old grading work of the Mid Sodor Railway as a guideline for where to build their new line.

“Hello!” chirped Frank cheerfully when he spotted the old woman. She blinked, and wandered closer. Frank noticed immediately that the old woman was limping, using a thick wooden walking cane to help her as she hobbled her way over, pausing to take a few breaths by a slightly rotted old bench. It had once belonged to the Mid Sodor station that had stood here, but that was long gone and the platform had become overrun with weeds.

“Hello, little engine,” the woman hummed, using her cane to help lower herself onto the bench. “You must be building the new railway.” “I am!” beamed Frank. “We’re building out to the old zinc mine beyond the village, so we can extract the ballast. We’ll also be running passenger trains out here of course, but that’s more for tourists.”

The old woman hummed, the tanned wrinkles on her face shifting slightly with every breath. “You be careful around that mine,” she eventually said. Frank blinked; he wasn’t quite sure why the old lady was warning him about the mine, but figured it must be a generic warning. Mr Duncan made them all the time when talking to Rex or Mike.

“I will!” replied Frank politely. The old woman frowned gently – not quite an annoyed look, but more… reproachful. “You think I am being old and silly – everyone ought to know to be careful around mines.” “I… actually wasn’t,” chuckled Frank earnestly. “I was thinking about how a couple of the others get similar general warnings from our controller.” The old woman hummed again, her old eyes burning with something immortal and powerful.

“That mine is haunted,” the old woman finally said. “My husband worked there before it closed – it’s not pleasant to talk about.” Now Frank was intrigued. “What happened?” he asked, before checking to see if any of the gangers were nearby – he spotted a little way away, heading off for lunch.

“The mine owned an engine – Smudger was his name. He was a terror – he wasn’t built right, they said. He was always derailing, or crashing trucks, or trying to pull dangerous pranks on the miners. He very nearly ran several over. And he always had this awful, twisted grin on his face – the engine enjoyed the terror he instilled in others. Everyone hated him, but they couldn’t get rid of him, not when he was needed by the mine. He got so bad that the Mid Sodor refused to let him onto their rails, not wanting to deal with him as his recklessness. He would ride rough and try to get the trucks to crash – and then he would arrive and come up with some awful scheme to cause mayhem. Worst of all, he would hide in the tunnel at the end of the town with only his eyes and grin showing off, waiting to scare another engine despite the dangers. Eventually, all the Mid Sodor engines bar Duke refused to deal with him.

“Then one day, things took a dark turn. Duke delivered a supply of dynamite to the mine, to help with blasting. He shunted them away carefully, picked up a few empty vans, and headed out. Smudger came over, looking for a new twisted joke to play on the men – and he found it. The mine had a new demolitions expert, whose job it was to do the blasting. Smudger waited until some miners had headed out to lay out the dynamite connected to the plunger – and then he struck. He snuck up behind the demolitions expert and screamed as loudly as he could. It was enough to spook the newcomer, who dropped the plunger in shock. The dynamite went off – and a stick of unplaced dynamite went flying at them. It hit the dynamite vans.

“The explosion was powerful enough to be felt in Arlesburgh. Smudger had blown up half the mine, and triggered a rockslide powerful enough to bring half the mine caving in. Dozens of men were trapped underground, with no way out. My husband got lucky – he’d been having tea on the other side of the mine when it happened.”

Frank was horrified – for an engine to be so reckless, callous and downright malicious as to try and cause such a thing, let alone having it succeed was mindboggling.

“That wasn’t the end though,” sighed the woman. “It’s said Smudger’s twisted spirit still roams about, running between the tunnel and the mines, torturing the poor souls unable to escape the site of their demise. Do not go up to the mines after dark.”

Frank agreed, unable to quite fully comprehend the story he’d heard. He decided to tell it to the other engines, and went to thank the old woman – only, she was gone.

It was like she’d vanished.

A little confused, Frank looked back up to see the gangers returning; had it been that long? They had really only just left, in spite of how long the story seemed to go. And yet they were back.

“That was quick!” said Frank. “What did you get?” The gangers stared at Frank, confused, but decided to humour the odd little engine. “We got pie from the nearby pub – though I wouldn’t say we were quick.” Frank didn’t say anything more, feeling very wary indeed.

The gangers made good progress over the rest of the day, reaching the mouth of the tunnel. It was long and curved, leading through a hill and into the valley where the old mine was situated. Frank instantly hated it – the mouth of the tunnel looking like a great yawning chasm, a great furious beast ready to swallow the little diesel whole. It also still had the old rails, old, rusted things that just added to the eeriness of the entire place.

“I don’t want to stick around,” admitted Frank. His driver agreed. “It seems… wrong,” the driver murmured. With the sun beginning to set, Frank hurriedly began heading back.

As he rounded the bend away from the tunnel, he could have sworn he saw a flash of a twisted grin.

“Pwah!” snorted Mike, letting off steam. “That’s a load of crock, and you know it!” Frank had told the others about his encounter with the old lady and the story she had told – as well as mentioning what he’d seen at the tunnel.

“I’m not so sure,” hummed Bert. “The Mid Sodor seems to be a hot-spot for the supernatural – remember the show they had here last summer? Those ghost-hunters who claimed they got a heap of readings.” “That was just reality TV nonsense,” sniffed Mike. Jock looked around, his eyes gazing around for any signs of a ghost.

“I… I don’t think so. I don’t like it. Why would ghosts want to haunt us? And what’s a Mid Sodor?” Frank sighed, and looked over. Rex spoke up. “Our line is laid on the bed of an old one – a much older one. It ran right the way to Peel Godred, up the side of the hills. Unfortunately, it was always poor, and so its manager made… questionable purchases. Really, only Duke, Peter Sam and Sir Handel were properly reliable out of the lot – and the mines were worse. They bought any engine they could, and it led to a lot of issues. This… Smudger isn’t the first ghost we��ve heard of.”

Mike snorted again.

“Oh, please! It’s all rubbish – and a weird old lady vanishing right after telling an ominous story? You were seeing things Frank – I’ll prove it!” And Mike agreed to swap jobs with Frank and take the works train to relay the rails through the tunnel.

“A twisted grin, what nonsense,” sniffed Mike as he made his way up to the tunnel. The rails had to be pulled up first, and by the time the gangers were finished, dusk had already begun to fall. His driver went to reverse him back down the line, when there was a loud clang, and Mike lurched to the side, wincing in pain. A rock had been kicked up into his motion, and when the little red engine tried to reverse, it had smashed its way into his cylinder and left him in pain.

Mike wasn’t going anywhere.

The gangers decided to head back to the village to call for help and stay for the night, leaving Mike sat right by the entrance to the tunnel mouth.

The tunnel was dark… bar a glimmer of white.

White…

Teeth.

A grin.

A twisted grin.

A Twisted Grin…

TWISTED GRIN, DEMONIC EYES, AN ENGINE DESTROYED IN FIRE OF ITS OWN MAKING AND TURNED AGAINST THE WORLD. FURY, HATRED, EVIL, TWISTED GRIN. TWISTED GRIN, WHY HELLO THERE MIKE, YES I KNOW WHO YOU ARE – BETTER RUN NOW. RUN RUN RUN LITTLE MIKE, BEFORE I EVISCERATE YOU, LOOK AT MY EYES, MY TWISTED GRIN. TWISTED GRIN, EVIL, HATRED, FURY. TURNED AGAINST THE WORLD, AN ENGINE DESTROYED IN A FIRE OF ITS OWN MAKING, DEMONIC EYES, TWISTED GRIN.

TWISTED GRIN.

TWISTED.

Boom.

When Frank came to collect Mike in the morning, he was left stunned. Mike was shuddering violently, his eyes as wide as saucers and all the paint drained from him, leaving him a deathly white. All the trucks behind him were thrown about the hillside, ripped apart and completely ruined. The track into the tunnel had been shoved apart to its old width too, leaving the rails where the two gauges met twisted into an unholy shape.

And in the far corner of the tunnel, a beaming white twisted grin shone out.

Back to the Master Post

#weirdowithaquill #fanfiction writer #railway series #thomas the tank engine #traintober #traintober 2024 #tw: mentions of death #tw past character death #tw horror #tw ghosts #ttte frank #ttte mike #tunnel #horror #prompt: twisted #tw ptsd

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