#edward's exploit

[retroillustrates]

" Duck and BoCo saw to it that Edward was left in peace. Gordon and James remained respectfully silent."

[thesteamw0rks]

exploitations

if that's the word? dunno. don't care. have an Edward.

Rbs appreciated!

[biggsodorcitystories]

Does Edward’s exploit happen in your AU? And if so did it scare you her in anyway?

Edward's Exploit is arguably Edward's best story, so I would find it impossible to skip it in my AU.

Understandably, Edward was terrified when her crank pin broke.

She was in agony - upon recovery, her human form was left with a huge scar all up her side. The pain had left her immobile, and she had no idea if she would be able to get moving again.

The accident had happened in the middle of the line, in an unpopulated area, and a nasty storm was raging. She was pulling an enthusiasts train, which had been heavy in good weather when she was uninjured.

She knew she had to get them home, but additionally had to get home herself as she had children waiting for her.

So she was scared, but had the sense to trust in her crew to help get her moving again.

[endoard1]

Edward's Exploit faces. (repost from twitter)

[busting-buffers]

edward's exploit is such a good episode, and i wish they werent limited during the model season. like, the illustration when his crank pin snaps?

its brutal. edward's boiler nearly gets ripped open from his side rod being shot into his running board and splashers, which we can't see in the tv series. to do so, they would've had to make a new edward model, which couldve been done, but it probably couldve cut into production time or something idk. but the rws one is so, so good. edwards visibly in pain, hes upset. its such a good illustration

[avaford2009]

Oh, it's Edward's Exploit! I loved that episode!

"One of your crankpins broke, Edward. We've taken your side rods off. Now you're like an old-fashioned engine. Can you get these people home? They must start back tonight." "I'll try.."

He might have been drenched and in pain from his injuries, but most importantly he was proud. (And so tired the only thing he could think about was a warm bed and a snuggle with one of the cats)

[theflyingkipper]

A redo of my Edwards Exploit drawing from ages ago, now in traditional mixed media!

I felt like I didn't capture the mood I wanted last time when I looked it over again (to the horror of everyone who got to see this early. Thank you for gassing up the old one, and keeping me motivated through the making of this)

this version is much more directly studied off the Peter and Gunvor Edwards' illustration, because I've grown into the opinion that the model adaptation of exploit was really weak (technical limitations!!! what a shame) and i want to get back into studying these illustrations, there's a lot to pick apart in them.

Here's a bunch of perspective lines i drew over it when I was sketching. (I don't normally do that when I redraw, but that's usually because I'm drawing from model era screencaps and I can rely on those being proportional, most of the time) Edwards face breaks perspective here just a bit to add more drama to the scene, everything else is proportional.

some in-progress pictures, during which I absolutely HATED how it looked and wanted to switch to digital because I feared I'd messed it up irreconcilably 😭 good thing I was able to look at it with fresh eyes after staring at it for like four hours, the first session of drawing ended at 1am. Believe me, if you hate how your drawing is turning out, put it down and come back to it later!!

Edward is also more referenced off a real K2 here because I really like how they look. Unfortunately they have painful geometry.

something frustrating about my traditional drawings is how they can't be viewed from multiple angles online. I use silver gel pen to highlight some parts (here it's Edward's handrails and the damage) but it doesn't show up well when I photograph it head on. I hope this picture shows a little bit of how it shows up in real life!

(if you can't see, look at the bottom of Edward's boiler bands)

Hopefully you enjoyed reading under the cut :] I like explaining my process and I appreciate it immensely when someone shares my enthusiasm for it.

[konnosaurus]

great western chess master gets destroyed by fella who has never played in his life!!!! (dialogue by professional genius @edwards-exploit, who also gave me the template below!!)

based on this silliness:

[bruhstation]

man who enjoys every single second he's dedicated to hating to the point it pisses everyone except him off

[whumpster-fire]

#I really wish someone had told me about the whump-blog to thomas-the-tank-engine-fanfiction pipeline

lmao I've never heard it described like that but you're right

insert joke about Henry getting bricked in a tunnel being someone's whump awakening here but unironically man there are moments in the series...

(unironically though if I were asked to pick a children's series with the best chance of causing someone to grow up to enjoy whump, Railway Series has to be in consideration because, it doesn't happen often but sometimes it hurts characters, with visible "injury," and takes it somewhat seriously in the story, in a way nothing else I can think of with the same target age range does. Probably because the main characters almost all being machines makes it much easier to get away with)

(nobody better @ me about Watership Down. Listen, my parents read it to me way younger than the age range half the internet recommends and I stand by their decision, but still it's a book for mid elementary school kids or older and the movie only got a G rating because the rating committee fucked up. Ditto for series like Redwall or Warrior Cats. My point is that RWS is in contention for whumpiest series that is legitimately appropriate for preschool or kindergarten aged kids)

Having Diesel 10 Thoughts

Certain recent incidents have made me reconsider and think actually given how Diesel 10 basically has basically an excavator arm I can see why everyone's intimidated by him.

Also I looked up his class and, holy shit I didn't realize that he was a fucking diesel-hydraulic. And also:

Added to this were practical problems modernising the D800s: because of the scaled-down bodyshell there was very little room inside for extra equipment. It was, for example, physically impossible to accommodate a compressor as well as an exhauster, so the locomotives were unable to haul newer designs of air-braked coaching stock. It also proved impractical to equip them with electric train heating (ETH) equipment for similar reasons, so they retained unreliable steam heat boilers to the end of their lives.

They couldn't even fit an air compressor in this class. What the hell did they do to fit this gigantic fucking hydraulic arm into him?

Each locomotive was powered by two Maybach 1035 hp (D800–802) or 1135 hp (D803–829, D831–832 and D866–870) MD650 engines coupled to Mekydro hydraulic transmissions.

Oh, god. Okay now I want to see a "realistic" Diesel 10 design where (a) the arm retracts to fit within the loading gauge, and (b) his front engine and other equipment like the steam heat boiler has visibly been completely removed to make room for "Pinchy."

Also these were passenger engines? So it seems unlikely that the claw would've been installed for maintenance of way work or whatever like I originally suspected, which probably means that Diesel 10 was employed by British Rail to hunt down and catch runaways like Oliver, and might have been given that claw for the express purpose of quickly tearing down improvised barricades like the one Oliver's crew used to hide him in a quarry siding in 'Escape', and of course for directly attacking and damaging them before dragging them to the scrapyard.

So, uhh, this raises the possibility that someone at BR just yoinked an arrogant young passenger engine off the express service he was running and gutted him, totally destroying his ability to do what he was originally designed for to turn him into a weapon.

(Also, like, some of the diesels in the series seem to just have names and not numbers or have nicknames they've "earned" by being nuisances, e.g. Spamcan and D.0261, Bear before joining the NWR, but every single one of the Class 42s was named. Did they, like, take his original name away as, like, a ritual severing of his ties to his identity? Obviously his number's different unless he was D.00810 / Cockade)

And then, just a few years after steam was finally abolished on BR lines, they declared his class, and his entire type of transmission, non-standard and they met the same fate as the steam engines he helped catch. Holy shit like I saw stuff about the early-generation BR diesels not having very long service lives but I did not fully process that the 28s, 42s, and Hymeks were withdrawn after only like 10 years, jesus christ.

Uhh, I guess that'd explain why he ended up on Sodor then? Did they immediately start getting rid of engines like Diesel 10 once they outlived their usefulness, or did they start sending him after other diesels and he got wise to the fact that his days were numbered?

Okay I have a horrible dark AU idea for how this went down since Magic Railroad's basically a Shining Time Station movie and doesn't quite fit the rest of T&F canon. Diesel 10 got sent to Sodor once to retrieve a "stolen" steam engine - possibly Oliver - and managed to terrorize and intimidate the NWR's residents while searching for the fugitive for a while because the law was very nominally on his side, until he fucked up and did something that let TFC kick him off the island even though he was there on official British Rail business (as opposed to the other diesels who kept getting booted off because they were on lease to help the NWR and were there at TFC's pleasure). Possibly something like attacking and damaging an NWR engine acquired through completely legal means, or even threatening / hurting / almost killing one of the human employees.

And then a few years later, he came back and one of the following happened:

Idea 1: Diesel 10 went rogue and came to Sodor with a massive grudge against steam engines because now it wasn't just his job, it was personal because so many preservationists had fought so hard against him to save their 'precious steamies,' and in his warped mind he believed that nobody was even trying to save diesels. When he got word that his class were being withdrawn he went straight to the biggest 'heritage' railway in the country determined to take as many steam engines down with him as he could. And possibly got blocked in a siding / shoved into some trap points / derailers and left to think about his actions.

Idea 2: Diesel 10 had more or less the same mindset, but he didn't go rogue, he was sent to Sodor to collect Boco or Bear! Because whoever was giving him orders at BR had the same idea and thought that TFC had only accepted any diesels reluctantly and no one on the NWR was going to actually fight for some obsolete nonstandard diesels. And they were horribly wrong.

Idea 3: Some dumb motherfucker on British Rail didn't check their paperwork and tried to send Diesel 10 after a fellow Warship without knowing what class he was, and he lost his nerve after his would-be victim recognized him, and finally got that there were no "winners" in a world where engines were nothing more than expendable tools. Long story short he ends up a fugitive himself, and possibly dragging one of the other Warships to Sodor with him. Or failing to do so.

[shrimpchipsss]

ode to x_los’ gender swap, three styles

[togetherness23]

Conversation

implicit Edward/Henry

Additional Tags for AO3: Apologies, Conversations, Developing Relationships, did you know that Edward was at the site of the Flying Kipper crash in the TVS?, (Henry wasn’t conscious enough at the time to have known that, sadly), Friendships, no beta we die like Henry almost did with the Kipper

Summary: Henry tries to apologize; Edward tries to amend.

Notes: First proper TTTE fic?

“What’s got yourself in a stir?” Edward had asked him one cool evening. They were both waiting at the big station, the smaller engine having just tidied up the yard.

“Your wheels have been creaking rather loudly since you pulled in. Either you haven’t been to the Works in a while,” Edward mused, knowing that would’ve been unlikely, “or you have something on your mind.”

It had been a few weeks since he had went out for maintenance himself. That was the culmination of a broken crankpin and a special train that was hours late.

He had felt fortunate that Henry was the engine waiting at the station- he could tell that his face lit up as he heard him whistle triumphantly, wearily pulling into the station, was one with the cheering enthusiasts as they crossed the platform. But after Edward returned to the sheds, they hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk more.

However, though he meant to spark conversation, the bigger engine seemed rather uneasy.

“Reminiscing.” Henry said plainly, causing Edward to purse his mouth. “Not fond ones.”

“Did… someone…?” Edward wasn’t sure how to prod. Did someone prompt this?

“I’ve been seeining Percy with Gordon and James a lot more frequently. He’s been really… well, puffed up in the boiler as of late?”

“It’s nice that he’s come so far since then.” Edward grinned at the thought of Percy scrambling the inside of Gordon’s boiler with his antics yet again.

“Still, can’t help but think back on his first day.” Henry frowned. “When you were near the sheds with him and I stormed up…”

“Oh, but that was in the past!” Edward was quick to laugh.

“I can’t let it go.” The big engine sighed, a large hiss now exhaling out of his funnel. His eyes fell to the gravel beneath their rails.

Edward was just as quick to stop. Percy didn’t sing the tunnel song in front of him again, did he?

“Percy certainly likes you now,” he consoled. “Of course, he was quicker to the shunt, but surely he’s over it by now.”

“But I nearly did that to you.”

And, for whatever reason, Edward found himself unable to reassure.

“…But you didn’t. Percy stopped you, we had a laugh about it, and you didn’t try it on again.”

“I’m sorry,” Henry grimaced, “Won’t you at least let me be remorseful?”

“I’m not stopping you,” Edward replied. Was he?

“It wasn’t right of us- of me- to have ever doubted you”, Henry spoke further. “Of course Duck and BoCo were mad when we were chattering about you. They’re your friends. They knew you would’ve persevered from the start. Me, James, Gordon…”

“I can’t blame you for thinking these things,” Edward replied, selectively creaking his front wheels. “I was due for maintenance. You said it yourself, I was positively straining when I pulled that train!”

Henry didn’t feel any better with Edward chuckling at the memory.

“Well- but— you’re so much better than the lot of us—”

“Don’t put yourself down so much for my sake.” Edward firmly interrupted. “Aren’t we friends again?”

“Well, you were always a good friend.”

“Only because you’re a good one to have.”

“You’re just saying that,” Henry replied, still looking down. “You’re kind, Edward. You really know how to stoke one’s firebox. I admire you for it.”

“I admire you too.”

It was said so casually, so softly, that in any other conversation with the other engines, it would’ve surely been drowned out either through sheer noise or banter.

Henry had stopped hissing steam.

Edward kept going. “That night, when it was pouring and I made it to the station hours late with the visitors… you know, I didn’t make it through out of sheer kindness. You saw how red my face was by the time I pulled in.”

“You minded the comments we made. You heard about them.” Henry muttered.

“No, I hadn’t thought of what you said,” Edward replied. “I was reminded of what you did. Remember the days when you were in your old shape?”

“Whatever could you mean by that?” Now it was Henry’s turn to laugh sadly. “When you had to pick up the work after me when I broke down? Or when we completely shunned you while we were on strike?”

“It’s not any particular memory. But seeing you, an engine with problems noticeably worse than my own- who was doubted by so many, including the Fat Controller…”

“The Controller.” Henry’s stare went wide, then focused again. “That’s right. Y’know, I had never seen him so angry at you before- that night you pulled in late.”

“How you were able to bare it all those years ago, I wouldn’t know,” Edward grinned for a moment, but then let his face fall. “I almost couldn’t believe he actually said the possibility of sending you away. But in the end, he didn’t. I- we’re all glad for it.

And that’s exactly what I’m talking about, Henry. The odds looked impossibly stacked against you- your poor design and subsequent performance, all of that. And yet… here you are now. You persevered.”

“But that wasn’t all me. You picked up after many of my jobs. Who knows- if you weren’t there, maybe the Controller would’ve given up on me earlier.”

Almost like that one cold morning, Edward thinks to himself.

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry, just thinking of one of those busy days. Carry on.”

Conversation for another night.

“Well…,” Henry began, retracing his route of thought, “wait, no. I’m still trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“That’s because I want us to be friends again,” reiterated Edward. “And I can’t very well do that while you’ve walled yourself up in shame yet again.”

There was another pause.

Then, a crack of a smile.

“Did you just say ‘Walled up in shame?’ I can’t believe you, Edward.”

Henry was in stitches, allowing a full smile to spread his bufferbeam. And Edward couldn’t help it- he laughed wholeheartedly with him, feeling funny in the boiler.

“But,” Henry switched back to a more neutral expression, “you shouldn’t feel like you have to be fine every time you see me.”

“It’s okay—”

“Edward.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Edward, you haven’t been okay for a while,” Henry said bluntly. “I can see it in your face. And in not being able to even talk about these things without chuckling it off.”

Edward, his eyebrows furrowed, stared directly ahead at him. Henry continued.

“I wasn’t alright either, all those years ago. And even now, I still go through the motions every other day when there’s something bothering me. But this doesn’t mean you won’t ever be okay again. Just that you don’t have to pretend that it never happened at all.”

“I’m sorry, yes. I just…”

Was this Henry, giving him wisdom? What could he say to that?

“I just miss you.” Edward almost blurted. “I don’t wish for you to feel like you have to make up so much for me. I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Of course it’s worth it to make up to you.” Henry replied, serious. Then, his face softened. “I miss you too.”

I want to do this together.

It couldn’t be clearer. Not where they were now and where they wanted to go- but that he was with him.

And we could be okay.

“If it’s any worth, you were always my favorite engine to share a train with.” Edward somehow beamed brighter.

Henry could feel the lights on him, causing his face to heat. Were the station lights always so warm?

“Well, I may have a longer train tomorrow. I don’t suppose a certain engine at Wellsworth would be willing to lend me a wheel over Gordon’s Hill?”

“They might, if you whistle loudly enough...”

——

The Flying Kipper was heavier than usual. The big green engine still hauled it with all his might, feeling rather emboldened.

Slowing down to a stop at Wellsworth Station, he whistled loudly with a peep! peep! peep! and called for help. A blue tender engine quickly chuffed up with a peep! peep! and buffered up to the end of the train.

“I’m ready!”

“So am I!”

And they set off together.

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Traintober Day 10: The Great/Flora

10/10

Have a Douggie with thistles, the national flower of Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿!!(also dunmeshi thistle got me in a chokehold rn-)

Bonus RWS/Caledonian Douglas:

[m-s-justice]

thinking about the fractures again. like what purpose they served the characters and I landed on cautionary tale. This Could Be You if you keep going the way you are now. Self reflection via direct contact with the self.

Ed did pretty much most of his character development off screen so when he shot Ultimis he didn't really have much to reflect on. If he keeps being a selfish prick, he'll end up hurting everyone he loves, evidenced by his teleporting Maxis and Samantha, setting up the tragedy of their lives. Makes him more reflective and compounding his consideration for his team. the whole "feel something with dempsey, save them at takeo" deal. Subtle stuff.

With Takeo, it's more the opposite. too much selflessness, absolute loyalty and devotion to someone who doesn't reciprocate. To couch it in Therapy Speak, boundaries. Ultimis Takeo was only there because the Emperor ordered him to. He technically could have rebelled, fled when he demanded him to submit himself as a test subject for Division 9, but he didn't. It's earth shattering, but definitely a lesson that needed to be taught. Makes Edward's heel turn to saving his crew a lot nicer. He follows someone who genuinely cares for him now.

ooooough. Nikolai. What happens when you Dwell. when you let the grief fester and infect your entire life. Addiction, too. And the fighting. It's notable how Ultimis evolves during the course of the cycle. Richtofen dies before the map, Dempsey dies in the map but has little to no effect on it, Takeo is awake and provides answers as well as closure, and Nikolai is an active part of the easter egg, to the point where he himself fights you. And the setting. god I'll have to do a more in-depth analysis of the setting of each map, but the war he fights has spun out of control, yet completely stagnated. There's no winning, just continual hurt. You see the symbology I don't need to explain it. Ultimis here is about not moving on, staying hurt and upset and not coping, at least not healthily. Nikolai killing him means... not necessarily moving on because you can never really move on from the death of a spouse, but not letting the hurt define your life anymore. No longer centering it and catering to it. if I wanna be mean, I'll say that's the Dark Aether's Original Sin so to speak, because nikolai never got to internalize that lesson. The DA and the new universe is built upon the graves of countless, on the foundation of hurt and suffering that thought letting go means destroying what was lost instead of working on something new. something something Eddie.

as for Dempsey uuuuuuuuh. uh. being cryogenically frozen sucks?? I have no idea. Like... the reason he's there is cause of Verruckt nonsense. so like maybe... don't follow orders? but that's Takeo's lesson so. uh. try harder not to get captured? I'm really struggling with this one if you have anything please pitch in.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Lightshow snippet :)

I've been trying to write a "spiritual sequel" to Steam and Light for 3 years running. It was to feature BoCo (along with a foul-mouthed relief driver) running a couple of holiday specials in mid-December, appropriately decked out in lights... and trying all the while to feign seasonal cheer. Unfortunately the truth is that he regretted this job one second after he let his malewife talk him into it he agreed to it. The result was to be an offbeat little fic for those of us who have ever worked customer service during the holiday. <3

This is me throwing in the towel on this project - just can't quite get the plot to cook.

However, I hereby offer some snippets for anyone who wants one last scrap of under-the-wire Sodor Lightshow 2024 content.

I also wanted to debut my headcanon that Bill and Ben's drivers play Pokemon Go on the job

"Hold still, will ya? We only turned over your engine so we could see what they look like—it'll be a good half hour yet!"

"A half hour?" BoCo looked at the clock mounted at Wellsworth shed, as if somehow it could back him up. But the second hand just went round uselessly at its usual speed, and the workers kept on with their fussing.

"At least. Don't get your pistons in a twist, lad; there's plenty of time."

"And if you don't hold still," quipped another worker, "I'll break out your Santa hat, and you'll wear it till it's time for your train."

BoCo made a face. He thought it was very reasonable to be restless, seventy minutes into his fitting. As the minutes crept by, and the sting of being made sport of held over his headcode as a threat to ensure good behavior deepened, he began to feel slightly murderous.

He wondered if this was how it was for Gordon and James, every other day.

BoCo rolled towards the platform rather unwillingly. There was still plenty of time before they were due, and he always preferred to back onto his train at the last possible minute, when all was just about ready and the passengers were too preoccupied with boarding to bother much about him. But his driver only snorted that shed staff had not gone to all the trouble of decking him out only for them to hide away from the public, so straight to the platform BoCo went.

"Blimey," cried a half-grown boy's cracking voice, anonymous in the throng. "They sent us the diesel, this time!"

"Ooh, gilt and flaaash," said another, with exaggerated awe.

"Sparkly!"

"I think you're a little confused, Diesel," laughed another, "you got all dressed up, but the girls' school is down in Suddery, innit?"

That was about all the reaction he got. The general laughing and shouting afterwards really all had to do with the students' own affairs, but BoCo did not know this and he felt his face start to harden into a grimace—which wasn't very professional, on a passenger service. To soothe his feelings to something more neutral, he gave a brief growl of his engine. "Is anyone here a diesel," he muttered to his driver, all irony, "and hasn't said anything yet?"

"Take it easy, lad," warned his driver. "No need to get your pistons in a twist."

BoCo glared. The smoking boy was too bold to do anything but smile back, although most of his companions started to giggle and shuffle nervously under the weight of a rumbling diesel locomotive's frown.

But not all of them. "C'mon, don't tell tales."

"Yeah, Diesel. Be a mate."

"Relax... have a puff." The tallest boy, taking the funny little whatever from his friend, made a gesture of offer.

This set off a new round of sniggers, and the engine had had enough. Not breaking eye contact, he gave a honk on his horn. 

"PORTER!" he bellowed, making everyone on the platform jump. Save for the insouciant youthful delinquents before him, who only pulled lazy faces of disgust. "If you would help these boys find their way out of the rain, and into a carriage!"

There was a collective groan and "awwww" from the boys. They began to shuffle, as if heading down the platform of their own accord. But they were such lallygags about it that, for all their amorphous shuffling, they hadn't really made an inch of progress before a porter and a schoolmaster came into BoCo's view, chivvying the boys along.

"Rat-sneak," one of them muttered out the corner of his mouth, as they passed level with the engine's bufferbeam.

"Rustbucket," hissed another.

"About as fun as old Eddie, this one..."

BoCo revved his engine, and finally got a jump out of them.

Though even then they laughed as soon as they were out of sight, unrepentant.

BoCo pressed his eyes and lips tightly shut for a moment. He then largely ignored the scolding of his driver, who had run out in alarm at the racket, and who was now grumbling that a body was expected to man a diesel-electric all on her own these days, even though you couldn't trust any engine alone for a moment.

In turn, BoCo growled protest about the blamelessness of his conduct and, especially, the insults he'd been subjected to—as a rule he wasn't a fussy sort of engine, but no locomotive busts their axles day in and day out only to take being called a rustbucket without a murmur. His driver was not oversympathetic. "Abbey boys are snotrags?" She snorted. "I'll alert the press."

People milling about at the fence grumbled among themselves, and a few even called out angrily to the porter as he made his way back into the station house. “Come on, mate! We’re all freezing our—” The cross passenger looked over at BoCo, and reconsidered. For some reason Sudrians were rather particular about their language around locomotives. “—wheels off.” 

The porter ignored the yells. 

The coaches, playing telephone, relayed up to BoCo (and down to the other end of the train) that the child was “overstimulated,” and Stationmaster had given them permission to board early so that the mother might be able to calm the girl and perhaps get her to nap quietly before the rest of the throng boarded, in hopes of avoiding a screaming meltdown. 

BoCo thought this perfectly sensible, and not much cause for the drama of the other waiting passengers. He explained as much to his driver. 

“They all turn into hags, this time of year.” He could feel the driver giving them a dark sideways glare. “Reckon I ought to stay with you this time, and protect you?” 

“My knight in shining armor,” BoCo said drily, making her cackle with a trace of real appreciation.  More passengers trickled into the station, waiting impatiently for the porters to allow them to start boarding. BoCo eyed the clouds and the clock. The former loomed but continued their progress south-east. He reckoned if they started on time they were likely to miss the rain. He’d be just as glad, to catch one break today.

“Was the day so bad as that?” [Edward] asked at last. 

BoCo’s mouth quirked briefly, albeit he’d expected this. “I’ve had worse. But I don’t know how you stand these things. The Middle Station was awful!” 

“Ah, well. Public school boys can be a little obstreperous, I suppose.” 

“Ob,” said BoCo, stunned. “Obstreperous?” 

“Some of them. Some of them are nice lads, though! Did you talk with Robert and Declan?” 

Aha. “You put them up to that?” BoCo asked slowly. 

“Well! I told them, when I dropped them off beginning of term, to expect you might come to take them away. They promised to say hullo. They did, did they?” 

BoCo smiled weariness. He wasn’t surprised, really. “They’re nice kids,” he allowed. “But I’ve no platform manner, Edward. We all know this.”

“It takes practice.” 

“This is my sixty-fourth year of service!” 

Edward winced. “That can’t possibly be true,” he said, somewhere between wistful and dazed. BoCo raised his eyebrows. “But yes, I suppose I deserved that. Still, it’s not about you succeeding or failing. I knew the passengers were safe with you, and that’s all that matters.” 

“I think Bobby and Declan, or whoever, might disagree.” 

“Robert. He hates being called Bobby.” 

“We... didn’t get that far.”

"Ooh! Ooh! It's true!"

"Give us a blink then, BoBoBoCo!"

BoCo smiled. Zippy and troublesome though they might be, the twins were also inextricably tied up for him in the ideas of home and family and he couldn't be cross to see them…

... saving, of course, occasions where they came into view recklessly pushing around trucks with explosives. 

Or messing with his brake tender.

Or covered in petrol because they had "wanted a taste." (He never had pinned down exactly the sequence of events, there…) 

Right, so maybe there were plenty of times he might be cross to see them. 

A little cheeking off, however, never hurt. Not from these two.

And so, he obligingly flicked the lights off and on again.

"Oooooh," the twins chorused, very still and wide-eyed... for at least a whole two seconds.

Ben whistled.

"You can't operate your own lights," Bill teased Edward.

"No," Edward agreed. "I have to rely on the coaches for that!"

"Do it again, BoBoBoCo!" urged Bill.

"I will not," BoCo smiled. "I mustn't risk damaging them. And what's with the new name? It won't do, you know—I don't have that many wheels!"

"Oh, still the same number of bogies?" asked Bill idly.

"We thought you might have evolved by now," giggled Ben.

BoCo glanced at Edward, who mouthed Don't ask.

The pain appeared to have knocked out [the auto-ballaster] during the wait, which was all the better for her. BoCo felt an orderly's regret when he had finished clearing away the other containers. When it was time to approach the derailed ballaster, the loud grinding of the P-Way crane vibrated the rails - and at least two of her wheels were still touching the track.

She came to with a moan, cross-eyed at first, from her awkward angle. It took her several long moments to blink herself awake and as she was doing so all she could see, amid the darkness, was a looming, growling figure, some shape she had never seen the like of, made up of nothing but blinking flashes of red.

"Uhhnnnnmm," she groaned, in hazy, blinded wonderment. "I'm in hell..."

"No. Barrow."

This time she groaned twice as loudly. "Worse and worse! I don't deserve this, I don't... I wasn't that bad..."

[bitter69uk]

Ease into the Halloween festive season (or as we call it, “gay Christmas”) on Thursday 17 October with a FREE screening of an outrageous 1950s horror b-movie! Yes! Every October the monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club (our motto: Bad Movies for Bad People) screens something “horror adjacent”. This time, we’re also commemorating the centenary of infamous filmmaker / twisted visionary Ed Wood Jr (10 October 1924 – 10 December 1978) with a presentation of his 1955 atrocity Bride of the Monster! THIS is the one starring ailing horror royalty Bela Lugosi (in his final speaking role in a feature film) as villainous scientist Dr Vornoff where he delivers the soliloquy “Home? I have no home. Hunted … despised … living like an animal! The jungle is my home. But I will show the world that I can be its master! I will perfect my own race of people. A race of atomic supermen which will conquer the world!” You won’t want to miss THIS compelling hot mess on the big screen! Contact the venue (glittering cocktail lounge Fontaine’s in Dalston) by email to reserve your seat now on bookings@fontaines.bar Full details here.