#ttte Bear

[edwards-exploit]

It's... it's...! Or, the big main line engines show their displeasure.

[dragons-and-magic]

Thinking about disabled engines. :3

Engines that are blind and as a result, have to rely on their other senses to get around. They're better at it than even humans, because I believe that engines have better memory and observation skills than us. Maybe they get special aids, made specifically for engines. Like an engine equivalent of a cane, but it's more like a wire on their buffers, to let them know if they're approaching something. Their crews help them too, almost becoming seeing eye dogs for them.

Engines that designs were flawed and it impacted their lives in a certain way. Maybe they learn to work with it, like Duck and Boco. Or maybe they get "corrective surgery", like Henry.

Engines with mental or developmental disabilities like Sidney, who have short term memory loss and maybe forget things easily. Or maybe it's something else like autism or ADHD. But everyone let's them take their time, and helps them if needed, because GOSH they know they trying. The life of an engine is hard enough already. (As someone with ADHD, this one in particular is very important to me. Just found out today that ADHD and Autism are officially recognized as disabilities! So that's interesting!)

Engines that can't see well like Whiff, and have to get glasses made specifically for engines. And engine optometrists that can get them the correct prescription lenses.

Engine Specific doctors and engineers, they make it their life duty to help these disabled engines and get them back in working order, therefore saving them from scrap. Because if there are optometrists that work on them, there are surely doctors in different fields as well.

Disability Activists, both humans ones and engine ones, that speak out for disabled people and engines. Helping them to get rights, and their special needs met like they deserve.

And, yeah. That's about it. I you can see, I find this stuff very fascinating. :)

Some of this stuff is inspired by @joezworld's world building, which I greatly enjoy. Also some awesome TTTE ocs I've seen floating around. And also some amazing disabled people and family members I have known.

Thanks for for reading!

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 15 - Star

Duck once had a Friend...

Once upon a time, Duck the Great Western Pannier Tank had worked at Paddington Station in London as a station pilot. Paddington was a huge station with several engines just like Duck who rattled about shunting trains for the big engines to take on long journeys all across the West of England and into Wales. Some of these engines were pompous and rude, while others were old and wizened. Duck’s favourite engine at Paddington however was an old, old friend of his.  

Her name was Princess Margaret, and she was a member of the Star Class of GWR express engines. They were old and wise engines, who though displaced from the top link express services by their younger successors the Castles and Kings, still performed admirably.

Duck didn’t get to see his friend much. She worked trains that went right the way out to Wales and back, and so she would often spend the night at her destination before returning. But when Princess Margaret was there, she would always take time out to talk to Duck. The two were as close as engines could be – Margie, as Duck called her, had taught the Pannier everything there was to know about coaches when he’d first arrived, back when she still headed important expresses like the ‘Cornishman’ and the ‘Cambrian Coast Express’. As she’d been displaced first by the Castles, then the Kings, she’d begun running longer-distances, on lighter-laid lines that the two bigger classes just couldn’t travel on.  

“Margie was still in service when I left,” Duck explained to the sheds one evening. The engines at the Big Sheds had been discussing their lives pre-Sodor – the Scottish Twins had spent several long minutes purely explaining why the Thistle was the prettiest flower in the world, while Percy had spent almost an hour going through all the various parts of the country he’d seen. “I feel like she had a good chance of being preserved too. She even got to cameo in that one movie – the Titfield Thunderbolt!”

All throughout this, Bear had been unusually quiet. The former Western-region diesel had had his own stories he wanted to tell, but now he was slightly afraid of speaking up. Oliver noticed. The Great Western autotank was still new to the railway, and didn’t trust Bear yet.

“Well, Bear – you look troubled. Is something the matter?” he asked. Bear winced, his engine making an odd rumbling sound. All the engines looked over, and Bear shrunk back under their attention.

“When I was being built,” he began slowly, “we… uh… I…” Henry smiled sympathetically.

“It’s alright Bear, we won’t hate you for what you have to say,” he offered. Duck, Percy and the other big engines agreed. Bear sighed.

“Princess Margaret was the last Star Class in service,” he said quietly. “And when I was built… she was… being… taken apart at Swindon.” Bear cut off, looking down at his buffers in shame. Duck’s eyes widened.

“She… she was cut up?” he asked slowly. Bear didn’t look Duck in the eye, staring down at the rails instead.

“Yeah. At Swindon. The men claimed they’d waited four years to see if they could find a buyer… and none came for her. I’m sorry Duck – she seemed like such a nice engine. She just told them it wasn’t their fault, and she’d lived a good life…” Bear rumbled out of the sheds to pull the Midnight Goods before any of the engines could say anything. Oliver looked horrified.

“I… I didn’t think he would be so… torn up about it,” he admitted quietly into the night air. “Oliver, I understand you went through something traumatic,” Percy replied darkly, “but you need to learn that not all diesels are evil. Duck… I’m sorry too. It’s hard learning a friend is gone.” Duck didn’t reply, instead staring silently out of the sheds.

His friend had been a real shining star on the Great Western, who’d served them through two World Wars and kept on going even as her class was torn up. And all she got for it was a cold siding at her own birthplace and a cutter’s torch.

Duck wasn’t sure what that said about Swindon’s legacy, but it wasn’t positive.

Back to the Master Post

[synthetic-rust]

Just your average Hymek diesel

[uselessalexis165]

tried making some ttte memes (328)

[coalnwater]

What is it with characters that were introduced in Enterprising Engines staring lovingly into the eyes of their saviours?

[railway323]

they’ve been talking all fucking night.

[duskstargazer]

[1968]

Most engines on the Fat Controller’s railway get along fairly well in spite of their differences. Most times, they’re able to put any issues they may have with one another aside and work towards a common goal. “Most engines” does not, unfortunately, include Murdoch and Bear.

“FIFTEEN MINUTES!!” Bear roared. “You held me up for fifteen minutes! And who do you suppose caught the blame for those seven milk tankers having gone off?”

“And what would you have had me do?” Murdoch retorted. “There were live sheep on the line, I couldn’t just move forward, I might have run some over!”

“Perhaps blown your whistle? What do you have it for, if not to make your presence known - as you seem to love to do."

“If I had blown my whistle,” Murdoch seethed through clenched teeth, “it would have only made them panic. Believe me, I would have loved to have blown smoke and forced them to move, but that simply wasn’t an option!”

A small group of engines watched the shouting match unfold, with mostly unanimous responses.

“What’re they arguing about tonight?” Charlie asked as she pulled in.

“Bear’s blaming Murdoch for delaying his train, and Murdoch’s blaming sheep.” Molly sighed, bedraggled as though she hadn’t slept for weeks. “Or… something.”

“And just last week, Murdoch was accusing Bear of leaving oil on the main line. And you know Bear took that one personally.” Almond added. He knew Charlie was keeping score of these things.

“So that’s five arguments incited by Murdoch, and three incited by Bear this month.” Charlie murmured.

“…”

“We’re a little over halfway through the month.” Molly sighed.

“I need a drink.” Almond groaned.

Rebecca pulled in a moment later. She made to take on water just outside the shed, but when she heard the raised voices, and Murdoch caught her glance and sent a glare her way, the big yellow engine quickly decided that the tower near Tidmouth Sheds would be a far better choice.

[happyspookysteamer]

Bear!

[anonymousboxcar]

Spamcan/D199 Headcanons & Analysis

While writing this fic and replying to folks’ lovely comments, I thought a lot about Spamcan and what makes him distinct to me. I feel like he’s different from the other rude diesel antagonists.

In my opinion, what sets him apart is that he has a companion. Bowler and Old Stuck Up arrive alone while Spamcan shares his trial with Bear. He also says “we” and “our controller” to Bear. There’s familiarity between them; he thinks of themselves as a package deal.

Bear validates this: “Shush! It’s their railway.” He doesn’t agree with Spamcan’s bigotry, but he still calls the NWR “their” railway. He’s aligning himself along lines of “us and them,” suggesting he and Spamcan are on the same “side” to some degree. He also considers themselves a package deal, even if he’s frustrated with it.

So how did these two become acquainted?

Well, Bear is a diesel-hydraulic engine — a type BR declares non-standard. Spamcan is a diesel-electric, safe for now from the cutter’s torch, but Bear’s position is much more fragile.

Considering what we see of Spamcan, he doesn’t seem like he’d befriend Bear for altruistic reasons. Yet he still refers to himself and Bear as a “we.” He even worries about what Bear thinks of him after he breaks down with his oil tankers.

And that’s what I think is at the root of this. Spamcan doesn’t care about Bear, but about what Bear thinks of him. He cares about maintaining a self-image that convinces Bear to stay with him, to keep following him.

Spamcan wants Bear to be dependent upon him.

I imagine their dynamic on BR was Spamcan demanding Bear’s loyalty in exchange for protection. And by protection, I mean dumping his work on Bear with the excuse of keeping him “out of sight, out of mind” from their controller. Bear didn’t have any better options, so he went along with it. Now he’s at the end of his rope.

But my pre-canon musings aside, do you see what I’m getting at? Spamcan’s one manipulative son of a gun!

He utilizes Bear’s threatened status to keep him close, to have someone who backs up what he says. His use of chummy plural pronouns is a strategy to wear down Bear’s sense of individuality. He tries to create camaraderie while also diminishing him, reducing him to a satellite in his orbit.

Spamcan is arrogant and boastful, but he has a degree of subtlety, too. That’s something that Bowler and Old Stuck Up never managed. The fact they came alone on their trials suggests they don’t have any followers or “friends” of their own, any of Spamcan’s finesse.

But you know who does manage some of that finesse? Diesel.

I like to think that Spamcan hears the story of Diesel’s trial. To him, it’s clear that Diesel worked the best when he flattered other engines and made himself indispensable to them. Messing with the trucks backfired in the end, but Spamcan would never do such a foolish thing. He can do one better than Diesel.

It’s not Spamcan’s plan to go to Sodor — he would rather stay on a “modernized” railway — but he figures it’s his duty to spread modernization. Like a “good diesel,” he volunteers himself with Bear for the trial. The Sodor engines will be on guard now, so who better to go with him than the fellow diesel to which he made himself invaluable? It’ll ensure someone has his back in hostile territory.

Spamcan’s miscalculation is in assuming that Bear will be grateful for recommending him to go on trial, winning him more points with him. But on BR, Bear was vulnerable. Now that he’s on Sodor, he has a chance of getting to safety. He doesn’t need Spamcan’s protection.

And every time Spamcan tries to appeal to him, he’s showing himself at his nastiest. Bear’s personal morals aside, if Spamcan hates “outdated” steam engines, how long will it be before he turns on “non-standard” diesels? How long will it be before Bear stops being useful to BR and to Spamcan?

When Bear tells Spamcan to shut up, he loses his only support right as he makes enemies out of every steam engine on this island. He’s alone and it’s all his own fault, all because he assumed he could manipulate his way out of any situation.

In that way, Spamcan isn’t too different from the other rude diesel antagonists. He fails because he’s arrogant and discriminatory. He fails because our protagonists resist swollen egos and prejudice where they see it.

But I like to think I’ve made a decent case for the ways he is different. I think he’s a bit subtler, a bit more manipulative than the others, even if he’s no more successful. What do you guys think? :)

[thebunnylord]

Sir Handel: Skarloey, we have an issue.

Skarloey: what did Duncan do this time?

Sir Handel: well, no, it’s not Duncan this time! It’s Luke! He keeps bringing back animals!

Sir Handel: so first it started out with a few toads that wandered into the mines, nothing serious, he just caught them and set them outside. But then he began catching birds that flew into the mines, then a few hedgehogs, and then there was the incident with the deer, and you know where this is going.

Skarloey: no I do not know where this is going.

Sir Handel: well today Luke was up in the quarry and brought back a bear!

Skarloey: a what?! Sir Handel are you serious?! How is there a bear in the island? Bears do not live in the UK!

Sir Handel: then explain him! *points to bear*

Luke: *is hugging Bear*

Skarloey: oh…. I see… luke?

Luke: But he’s friend shaped!!

[baldwin-10-12-d]

Here's today's engine(s) of the day

[dragons-and-magic]

Decided to post some new Dragon AU sketches!

1: My concept design for Bear. I'm super happy with this one. I used some new techniques from Disney animation for it. Hopefully all the characters will have this lovely retro looking animation style.

2: My concept design for Rosie. I tried to make her frill look like rose petals. I thought it would be cute.

3: My concept sketches for Thomas, James, Edward, and Gordon's wings. Edward's wing patterns are based off moon moths.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 26 - Music:

The Gramophone:

Sir Charles Topham Hatt loves his railway. The North Western Railway had flourished under his tenure, with the Knapford Harbour being rebuilt and the Arlesburgh branch being reopened. His father’s legacy was secured, the railway was insulated from British Railways and its baying diesels. All in all, a grand career.

But Sir Charles hadn’t always worked on the North Western.

One early morning, The Fat Controller arrived at his office in Tidmouth to find something new sitting atop his filing cabinet. It was an old-fashioned gramophone, the kind that had been popular three decades ago. It still had the great big old brass horn that had been superseded by more dynamic sound output systems in the ‘60s, making it seem far bulkier than it really was. Sir Charles walked over, and checked it for a note, or a message, or anything! But there was no hint of who had left it.

A quick check with the station staff revealed that none of them had put it in his office either – though that left all of them with no real explanation as to how exactly the weird old thing ended up in Sir Charles’ office.

“Perhaps it’s a gift from your wife,” offered the stationmaster eventually. “Your sixtieth is coming up soon, sir.” Sir Charles considered. He supposed it was something his wife would do – she’d surprised him with a holiday to Spain for his fiftieth, and he had been collecting a few records in his office recently. She must’ve seen them during their last lunch date. “It must be,” he agreed. “And the note must’ve fallen off somewhere.”

With that, Sir Charles settled in to start his day’s paperwork. He paused in front of his record collection, and selected the most recent Elton John album, popping it on the old gramophone and setting everything up right. To his amazement, the record fitted perfectly on the turntable. That seemed a bit odd – most old record players weren’t built for the size of modern vinyls. But it fit, and when Sir Charles placed the needle down, the record began to play with no complaints at all. The Fat Controller smiled fondly, and sat back down to work.

All through the day, Sir Charles played music while he worked, flipping out recent records he’d bought on a whim for older classical pieces that reminded him of his youth and the songs his father would play for him while they sat at home. The music flittered out of the office, filling the station concourse and intriguing even the engines.

At the end of the day, Sir Charles placed all his records back, turned off the gramophone, and caught the Edward’s train bound for Wellsworth.

The next morning, Sir Charles arrived at the Big Station to find Henry waiting nervously on the goods line. He seemed very startled. “What’s the matter?” asked Sir Charles. Henry’s eyes darted around, and then he let off steam. “I heard… I heard something weird last night. When I came through with the Kipper. It sounded like… like me, from when Sir Topham… when he…” Henry broke off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Sir Charles frowned, not sure what to say. “You heard father? When he… bricked you up?” Henry sighed. “Yes. It was awful! I could hear his voice, but it was twisted… he was threatening me, telling me horrible things… I thought it was imagination at first, but it was definitely here.”

Sir Charles nodded grimly. “Thank you for telling me, I will look into it. For now, I’ll ask the signalman to reroute you around the station. It’ll mean you can’t get up to speed as quick, but it may be for the best until we can get to the bottom of the noise.” Henry agreed, and steamed away to start his day. Sir Charles made his way to his office, and paused.

There was a record on the gramophone. It was one of his oldest, a recording of an opera from back in the 20s. Sir Charles gently put it away, confused. His office had been locked, and the stationmaster knew better than to enter without permission. No one else had a key, and nothing else was out of place.

“Did I… leave it there?” asked Sir Charles aloud, not sure what else to think. Sir Charles swapped it out for a Supremes record, and began his day. He tried to investigate the odd, terrible noises that had haunted Henry – but he couldn’t find anything that might’ve caused it.

“Maybe some children…?” pondered Sir Charles, before shaking his head. No, children wouldn’t know what his father had sounded like. With no idea what had caused the weird noises, Sir Charles decided to simply reroute Henry around the station and shelve it until he could find some more evidence.

At the end of the day, he once again packed up his records, locked his office, and headed home.

It was a shaken and pale Bear that met him at the Big Station the next morning, looking very ill. “What’s the matter?” asked Sir Charles, immediately worried for his engine. “I – sir it was terrible! I was coming through with the midnight goods, when… when… I heard Swindon!” Sir Charles waited patiently for Bear to elaborate, now worried and confused.

“It was when I was being built – they were scrapping steam engines there too, and I heard them. I could hear their screams, and their pleas, and their hatred of me… I had to get out. I don’t want to pull the midnight goods again, sir.”

Sir Charles was now very worried – Bear was not one to try and ask for changes, he loved all work he got. Something very serious was going on, and Sir Charles needed to figure it out. First Henry, then Bear – who would be next?

Not even playing music on his gramophone could came Sir Charles down; he was trying his best to figure out what had caused such horrible noises and scenes to ring out across the station – but nothing could have done it!

Sir Charles was so preoccupied that he completely missed the fact that one of his old Bobby Lewis records had already been sat on the turntable when he entered his office. He spent all day working, balancing his usual work with his investigation, even as interrogating the station staff revealed that only the night guard had even been on the property, making his rounds.

An old, half-buried memory bubbled up – his time in the Middle East after the war had left him with many stories, including one of people’s tortured pasts manifesting into demons… or was it something else. Could such tales be a reality?

Sir Charles scoffed, and brushed it off. Such fantasies were for bedtime stories and frightening tourists – they were not real, and they could not help.

And then James came to him the next day, refusing to even steam under the canopy of the Big Station. “Sir! Your station’s haunted!” snapped James crossly. “It was… it was… it was a recording of my accident, playing all through the station! My accident on my first day, with all the screaming from my brakes and trucks and my crew trying to stop me…” Sir Charles rearranged the schedule to shift James away from the Big Station immediately, and retreated back to his office, mindlessly placing the needle on the record on his gramophone before pausing as an old jazz record played.

“Isn’t this from 1925…?” mused Sir Charles under his breath, before shaking his head and knuckling down to work. He’d been so worried about his engines that several important missives had gone unanswered, and they took even longer as his mind just kept drifting back to his engines and the frightening incidents that they been forced to relive.

The day ticked by, and then dusk came and went. Sir Charles stayed in his office, unable to head home without finishing the stack of reports that had been due the day before but were really needed the next day.

Bit by bit, the station went silent. The last of the passengers boarded their trains, the station staff clocked off one by one. The night guard arrived, greeting Sir Charles and headed off to start making his rounds.

Sir Charles switched out the record on his player mindlessly, not checking what he put on the turntable.

“We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day Keep smiling through Just like you always do 'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say hello To the folks that I know Tell them I won't be long They'll be happy to know That as you saw me go I was singing this song

We'll meet again—”

The song suddenly jumped, the nostalgic record going silent for a beat. Then, a scream filled the office. Sir Charles jumped, his eyes wide. The roar of gunfire filled the room, the rumble of tanks and the thunderous commands of his superior officers. The screams of the men as they were shot and left to die of their injuries, the nurses unable to get onto the field. The whine of shells as they pierced through the air, falling indiscriminately on the men as they tried to evacuate. “CHARLIE! GET BACK!” Sir Charles clamped his eyes shut, holding his hands over his ears. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” he begged, but the record didn’t stop. The sounds grew ever louder, the fighting getting closer and closer to the Royal Engineers as they tried desperately to evacuate the soldiers and get them to the beaches. The thump of boots of cobblestone, the whistling of flung grenades, the harsh snarl of German commands as the enemy closed in – it was all too much.

Sir Charles blindly lunged for the gramophone, grabbing at it and sprinting at the door. He kicked at it, the old door groaning at the force before Sir Charles managed to force it open and fling the gramophone away from himself. His ears were ringing, the bullets whizzing past him with bare inches to spare.

The gramophone smashed against the platform and shattered, the pieces flying in all directions. The night guard came running, his truncheon out and his eyes searching for the source of the smash.

He found Sir Charles curled up on the floor, rocking back and forwards while holding his arms over his head, covering his ears.

“Sir? Sir!” “Make it stop!” bellowed Sir Charles. “Has it stopped?!” The night guard looked around, perplexed. He couldn’t hear or see anything wrong, apart from Sir Charles and his destroyed gramophone.

“It’s stopped,” assured the night guard, waiting patiently until Sir Charles uncoiled and looked around, eyes wide and face pale.

The pair looked down at the gramophone, and then Sir Charles took a deep breath.

“We’re breaking this apart more and tossing it in the nearest dumpster,” he ordered. “I will not have such malevolent disturbances on my railway.” The night guard nodded slowly, and offered up his truncheon. Sir Charles brought it down on the old gramophone again and again and again until it was in splinters, before helping to quietly sweep it all up and toss it out.

Sir Charles Hatt hadn’t always worked on the North Western Railway. During the Second World War, he had been part of the Royal Engineers, working near the front lines to keep the troops moving. It had been on the 30th of May, 1940. Charles had been with his unit when the Germans had launched a surprise attack – the lines had broken, fallen back; Charles was the only man of his unit who survived. He never liked to remember the horrors of that day, the entire thing too gruesome to bear. He never spoke about it to anyone either, even as he made it home to Sodor and quietly married.

Sir Charles hadn’t always worked on the North Western Railway; once upon a time, he’d been a young man who’d been sent to war.

Back to the Master Post

[steam-beasts]

The Little Steam tram and Brakevan that Could

It was a stormy winter's night at Arlesburgh West. In the diesel sheds, Toby and Henrietta's pups; Bruno and Tabitha were staying the night with DJ to keep him company. To pass the time, DJ was telling the two about his journey for the ballast truck a couple weeks ago.

"And so, I brought the ballast truck back! The end!" DJ said happily. His little audience of two just sat there quietly, it was hard to tell if either were looking at him with their still unopen eyes. Nevertheless, he knew the two were listening, especially Bruno.

Speaking of Bruno, the little orange brakevan replied with a squeak and a little wiggle. DJ giggled and smiled "Glad you liked it, Bruno"

"Gaahhh...pbbbffhh!!!" Tabitha babbled, DJ rolled his eyes "I didn't mean to wake Rex up, Tabitha"

The steam tram pup blepped her tongue out and yawned. DJ raised an eyebrow and looked up at the clock "Oh, I guess it's bedtime, huh?" He remarked to Bruno, who was also yawning. He couldn't help but let out a yawn himself.

As if right on cue, a guardsman wearing a thick coat cracked open the shed door with a lantern and walked inside. Strangely, he had a pair of fluffy blankets and baby bottles full of milk.

He tipped his hat to DJ "Hullo', DJ"

"Hi, Mr guardsman. Why do you have those?"

The guardsman gently shook one of the baby bottles "These are for these two little boxes here" He said, gesturing to the two pups on either side of him. Tabitha looked up at the guardsman despite her very blurry vision and perked up excitedly once she smelt the warm milk. Bruno stirred in his sleep, but was stopped from crying as the familiar smell of his mother filled the air, hitting his nose.

The man chuckled "Alrighty, you two. One at a time" and so the tiny diesel watched as the guardsman sat down and set Bruno in his lap first.

After the first bottle was emptied, the brakevan was set back on to the miniature guage rails, where one of the cozy blankets was set on top of him. The same pattern happened with Tabitha and soon enough, both of DJ's friends were wrapped in blankets.

"What's with the blankets?" He asked curiously.

"Bruno and Tabitha normally sleep beneath their father or mother for warmth during the nights. But since those two can't do it this particular season, we've had to improvise and give them blankets" the man explained. The wind outside howled loudly and deeply, sending shivers through the mini diesel's frame. The guardsman patted the young engines roof.

"Settle down, little one. The storm will only be here until tomorrow night" He assured him. DJ gave him a small smile and closed his eyes with a sigh as the man left.

____________________________________________

Bruno's eyes fluttered open with a yawn, the bright daylight shining into his eyes. He looked around groggily at his surroundings and squinted at the sunlight shining on his face.

Ignoring the light the best he could, Bruno took a better look around and... was it just him, or did everything shrink? Or maybe he grew? It certainly seemed that he grew overnight, because the brakevan saw who he was pretty certain was DJ and his big sister Tabitha out of the corner of his eye. Tabitha warmly smiled at him as she rolled out of the shed "Morning, Bruno" she greeted kindly. Bruno gasped – when did his sister learn how to talk like their parents?! The brakevan watched, slightly dumbfounded as Tabitha rolled away into the distance. Was she leaving without him? Also, were they grown-ups?

Hesitantly, unsure of what would come out, he called out "W-Wait, where are you going?" To his surprise, he could also talk!

"Don't worry! I'm coming back, Bruno. Like always, don't get your axles in a twist! I'm just gonna to switch to your track" she called back.

"What's the matter, Bruno?" He heard DJ ask. He looked over to the diesel, who looked back, waiting for an answer. Bruno averted his gaze "Uhhh..." He tried to think of a good answer, something that he would hear his mother or father, or even the workers would say. So awkward...

"I'm... fine, DJ. W-What, um... makes you say that?" He replied, simply reciting words he'd heard before "Eh, just curious. You looked like you saw a ghost for a second, heh heh!"

"Oh, ok..." he mumbled, taking his time to get a good look at his friend and playmate. As a pup, the little brakevan would typically be able to make out a blurry box shape in his dark and blobby vision, but this time, DJ looked a lot more detailed. He had a pointy nose, lots of weird little boxes along his sides, lumps and bumps here and there...the red rectangle below his face even looked more clear! Bruno then yelped as he felt a bump on his front, the bump turned out to be Tabitha backing up into him. Out of thin air, a man dressed in a blue uniform appeared with a big stick with a hook in his hand. He began poking at his sister's rear buffers and hooked on to the small chain thingy. Next thing he knew, the man hooked the chain thingy on to the hook thing on his buffers and shouted something to Tabitha.

Everything that happened next was a blur, and Bruno found himself being hauled along the track by Tabitha. All around them were infinite amounts of grassy green fields filled with sheep and cows, along with plenty of mountains. He had no clue what Sodor actually looked like in detail, but he supposed it was something like it. It was all bright and sunny, a complete opposite to all the weirdly cold white fluffy stuff that had been everywhere.

He and Tabitha then found themselves going up a big hill...a very big hill. Tabitha went slower and slower as they went up, strangely not talking to him. Well, to be honest...he was kinda glad she wasn't saying anything, they're both supposed to be little pups and talking felt too abnormal. As they rolled further up the slope, the gentle breeze began to get colder, and significantly stronger. Dark clouds began crowding in the sky, the sky's natural blue colour slowly transitioning into a dark purplish hue

The brakevan looked around anxiously, taking notice of the rabid change of weather "It's dark..." He gulped in a quiet and nervous tone. Tabitha didn't say anything, remaining deathly silent. Only the sounds of her chuffing and the rumble of their wheels against the ground was heard. He may not favour how they were now capable of talking, but he didn't like how silent it was besides the howling wind. It was scary.

Eventually, they finally reached the top of the hill. Rain drops had begun falling from the sky as soon as the sun's light was completely snuffed out by the clouds. The cold rain sent unpleasant shivers through Bruno's frame, making him shudder "T-T-Tabitha, can't you go at least a bit faster...? The rain is c-cold"

Tabitha still remained completely mute. Bruno really hated this now, the silence was creepy and he wanted to hear something or someone speak. They were going really slow now, they weren't even going down the hill yet. Mountains and forests could be viewed as far as the eye could see.

Just then, Bruno's attention was dragged over to something in the corner of his eye – a man. Not just any man, a conductor. Bruno didn't know what a conductor even was, so he had no idea what he was looking at.

The two siblings were slowly approaching the man, wheel turn by wheel turn, they got closer within each agonising minute.

(A/N; Lengthy character description coming up! Be prepared, and warned)

The conductor had a tall and slenderish build, his uniform was a maroon pink colour...or was it maroon ruby? Nevertheless, his uniform looked quite fancy, and was accented with golden trimmings that absolutely popped out of the jacket, almost as if they were glowing. His conductor's hat was the same.

Admittedly, there were a couple coal stains here and there, but it was overall stylish. His trousers were black and he wore a pair of sleek black shoes. Something creepy about the conductor though was his strange looking mask which prevented his face from being seen.

The mask looked identical to that of a steam engine's face, except cartoony. The mask held an eerily cheery grin with rosy pink cheeks and eyes that bulged out slightly. The eyes themselves were an amber yellow colour, both glowing like an engine's lamplight in the darkness.

He held an umbrella above his head, a sensible thing to do in this type of weather. Bruno didn't like him already, his face was creepy and he just stood there. Not to mention that a weird droning sound filled the air as he came closer.

Soon enough, they were now coming up beside him, and the conductor was staring right at him. Bruno stared back down at him intensely. The conductor slowly pulled his hand up to his mask's mouth and made a shushing sound, as if to keep him quiet. Then in the blink of an eye, he disappeared immediately, no quieting footsteps, nothing. The conductor was gone...

Bruno then felt a sudden tug on his buffers and noticed Tabitha moving much faster...and faster...and faster. Too fast! They had already began going down the hill when he began frantically putting on his brakes, but they were failing.

"A-AAH!! S-STOP, PLEASE STOP!! AHHHH!!!" He screamed and begged to his sister, tears leaking out of his eyes. They were going to crash!

A scorching pain erupted from his wheels as they barreled down the oh so huge hill. As they were about to hit the bottom, poor little Bruno woke up...

____________________________________________

High pitched wailing could be heard from the diesel sheds at around 4am at night, the storm hadn't stopped, but that didn't stop the guardsman from going inside and checking. Once he found that it was Bruno behind the sobbing, he quickly managed to console him and put him back to sleep. Tabitha cuddled up to him for the rest of the night to make sure no scary monsters entered his dreams. Poor Bruno was a weeping, sniffling mess for the rest of the night.

_________________________________________________________

The next week rolled around fast, Christmas Eve was two days away. Over at Knapford station, decorations such as bunting and fairy lights were being hung around the station. Sir Topham Hatt was out on the platform, finishing off on telling a couple of workers where to put the wreaths.

"Hmm, right a bit... no, left a bit...ah, yes! Thank you very much, lads. That'll do!" He smiled gratefully. The two workmen nodded and retreated with their step ladders and boxes. Until they were out of sight, the stout man's face fell a little as he took out his pocket watch and looked at the time with slight concern. He glanced around for any diesels that could've been pulling any particular goods train. None so far.

Sir Topham Hatt turned heel and went into his office, sighing and shaking his head as he sat down at his desk "Dear, oh dear...it was supposed to be here last week" he muttered under his breath. He was about to drink some of his tea when he heard his phone ring.

"Oh, bother that telephone..." he groaned before picking it up "Hello?"

"Good morning, Sir. Apologies if I bothered you, but Theodore and Charles have arrived at Platform 5" the stationmaster informed.

"Oh, right. Tell them that I'll be over in a few minutes" Sir Topham Hatt replied before setting the phone down.

Roughly 15 minutes later, Sir Topham Hatt made it to Platform 5, where on the benches sat Theodore and Charles, Toby's driver and fireman. Beside them was a rather big stroller with two babies that the controller recognised well.

"Hello, you two. Sorry about the wait, I was at Platform 1 helping some men with the decorations" He apologized. Theodore waved dismissively "Oh its alright, Sir. No rush"

"We're not in a hurry" Charles added.

"Very well, then. So, what brings you two here with these little bundles of joy?" He asked, squatting down a little to see Bruno and Tabitha who were hiding under the blankets. Charles beamed at the question "Oh! That's actually the reason..." he said as he pulled the stroller closer "...you see, these two little flower petals have a little surprise for you"

Inside the stroller, the two pups were squirming around in blankets. Theodore pushed down the roof more and gave the blanket lumps a little poke as Sir Topham Hatt moved closer to see.

Tabitha and Bruno finally shook the blankets off themselves and looked up at Topham, who gasped – the two pups had finally opened their eyes!

The two little babies babbled and giggled as they looked up at the controller and their surroundings, leaving the stout man dumbfounded.

"W-Wow...oh goodness me, their eyes are open!" He stuttered, still bewildered at the sight. Toby's crew chuckled at his reaction, because it was the same as theirs.

---------

Theodore and Charles, a pair of divorced old men who shared a house and drove an elderly steam tram. Their kids often came around every couple weeks or so, so they weren't depressed or lonely. They both had each other as well, so it wasn't entirely sad. They also had Bruno and Tabitha to look after while their parents were sleeping.

Theodore had just woken up when he went over to the playpen with his mug of coffee.

"Good morning, lil' ones..." he cooed, sticking his hand down to tap the blankets. To his surprise, Tabitha shot right out of the little makeshift pillow den she and her brother somehow made. She pinned his hand down with her wheels and nibbled at Theodore's wrist, which didn't really hurt as her teeth still haven't came through.

The old train driver chuckled "Good morning, Tabby-catty, still attempting to fight my hand, eh?" He then gently pulled his hand away, much to the steam tram's disappointment. She looked up at Theodore and whined for attention, ringing her bell and making little wheeshing noises. The moment he got a good look of her face, Theodore nearly spat out his coffee – Tabitha's eyes had opened at last. She was now staring at him with those little dough eyes.

"Oh my..." he gasped, hands trembling as he set down his mug. Bruno came rolling out of the den, and sure enough, his eyes had fully opened as well, though they were more half-lidded that his sister's. Theodore stood there in amazement, taking in what he saw. The pups looked up at him blankly, making little chirping noises. Another pair of footsteps were then heard behind the old man, accompanied by a yawn and the creak of the door. It was Charles "Morning, Theo... heard you gasping and –"

"Call Sir Topham Hatt"

"Huh? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Theodore then snatched his shirt and pulled Charles over to the playpen, at first Charles complained, but once he saw what Theodore talking about, his mouth was shut tight. He looked down at Bruno and Tabitha, then back at his co-worker in stunned silence.

"I'll call him..." he said in a quiet whisper.

--------

"Ah, so this was why Charles sounded so hyper on the phone" Sir Topham Hatt commented, petting Bruno's roof, making the latter blush with embarrassment. He then paused momentarily, remembering Toby and Henrietta and sighed "It's quite a shame their parents aren't here to see this wonderful change"

Theodore and Charles both frowned and exchanged deflated looks as Sir Topham Hatt took a step back from the stroller, adjiusting his hat "Now, gentlemen, I must get back to my office, you never know when that telephone will go off"

"Of course, Sir. We'll see you at Christmas Eve then?"

"Certainly! Oh, and one more thing?"

Theodore raised an eyebrow "Yes, Sir?"

"Could you maybe collect the star for the Christmas treeat Brendam Docks? It will be arriving on Christmas Eve afternoon, i...erm...couldn't get an earlier date" He said. The driver and firemen exchanged looks shrugged "Sure?"

Suddenly, the loud honk of a horn filled the station, accompanied with Diesel oiling in at Platform 1 with a big rectangular crate on a flatbed "Oh Sir! I've got a special gift for yooou~!" He called out in a sing-song tone. The Fat Controller perked up "Ah, finally! The Christmas tree is here. Got to go, lads! I'll be sure to see you at the party" He said, bidding farewell as he walked off the platform. Indeed, on Christmas Eve, there was to be a big party in Knapford. Tabitha and Bruno both babbled and cooed as they watched the man with the top hat get smaller and smaller until he disappeared. Then the stroller began to slowly move, letting them see the rest of the station.

Bruno was too busy giggling and looking around to notice the same man from his dream at the platform opposite from them.

_________________________________________

It was an early Christmas Eve morning, the whole station was getting prepared for the big party, and all the workers were invited. All the decorations had been set up and the tree was standing right in the middle of the station. The tree stood tall and was already being decorated by the many workmen and stationmaster. Sir Robert Norramby was even there, insisting that he wanted add some extra "razzle dazzle" to the place. By "razzle dazzle", he meant littering the station with fake elves and reindeer, along with a few mini christmas trees. He even added a fake Santa Claus with his sleigh and reindeer on the roof (which Sir Topham Hatt thought was quite unnecessary).

"So, what do you say, Bertram? Does the station have the razzle dazzle that you needed?" The older man asked, hand falling on the stout man's shoulder. Topham jolted a little from surprise and smiled with a little strain "W-Well, it certainly looks festive"

"Indeed, all that's needed now is the star! In fact, I believe it should be at Brendam as we speak. Are any of your engines free to go and collect it" The Earl chirped cheerfully. Sir Topham Hatt sighed "Afraid not, the rails on the mainline are severely icy, and there's been a shortage of sand recently, so I've sent Toby's crew to collect it. In fact, I'd say they should be coming from Brendam Docks as we speak!"

—-------

And so they were.

Theodore drove along the frosty road of Suddery, Charles sat beside him with the star in his hands, humming a merry Christmas song. The darkening sky was a beautiful orange, but the road ahead was dark, so they had their headlights on.

"Well, to Knapford station we go then, aye?" Theodore piped up, glancing at his co-worker

"Yeah..." Charles replied quietly. An awkward silence filled the car, neither had much to say. The only noise was the ringing of a bell.

Theodore broke the silence "Charles, check on the little puppers" Theodore told him. Charles huffed and set aside the star before looking at the back passenger seats. Playing on a nest of heated blankets were Tabitha and Bruno. Bruno was currently nudging at his sister's bell.

Charles looked back at Theodore "Yeah, they're alright" he murmered. All was silent on the drive, until Charles spotted two little pin prick eyes up ahead, they were very small but still noticeable.

"Hey, there's eyes on the road"

"No there's not. I don't see any" Theodore replied.

"Uh, yeah. There are, just look!" Charles argued. Theodore glanced at him "No, there's not –"

Just then, Bruno began jumping up and down, making little barking noises. Tabitha just giggled and babbled, as if she were encouraging him. Theodore sighed annoyingly and looked over at Bruno "Bruno, settle down —"

"COW!!"

Theodore yelped and looked back at the road to see a escaped cow on the road. The car slid and slipped on the road and careened down the slope towards a stretch of tracks. Everyone screamed and the pups squealed as the car hit the rails and went over them. Finally, the car came to stop as it hit a muddy ditch.

The two old men stared at nothing for a dead minute, their eyes blown wide, their hands trembling, Tabitha and Bruno were whimpering, and everyone was catching their breath.

Slowly, Charles dragged a glare towards Theodore "...I told you there were eyes on the road" He hissed.

"Oh, shut up..." The driver spat back, narrowing his eyes. Their attention was quickly drawn to the pups behind them, who were crying and whimpering. Theodore's gaze snapped to them, and his frustrated look softened into a more sympathetic one.

He let go of the wheel and opened the door "C'mon, Charles. We gotta get outta here" Charles shoved his angry mood and followed suit , taking the star with him.

Bruno and Tabitha watched tearfully as the men left the car. They wanted their parents, they were so scared.

Soon enough, the men came back like they hoped and lifted them out of the car.

Theodore and Charles grunted as they scrambled up the slope and past the splintered and broken fence with the pups (and star) in hand.

Theodore panted as he set Bruno on the wide track, Charles doing the same.

"Oh man..." The fireman panted, hands on his knees. They took a moment to gather their breath before setting their focus on the situation;

"Alright...wheeeere did we crash?" Theodore drawled, looking around. Charles hummed, taking in the sight around them "I think...this is where Edward broke down during that passenger run"

"What do you mean?"

"Edward's driver told me a story he heard from Edward; Edward's crank-pins broke somewhere in this area. He had his siderods taken off and still had to pull the train home, but he pushed through the struggles and got back safely...I think he got an overhaul after that or something" he told him in a rather ominous tone, which was a little opposite to the story's actual tone.

Theodore raised his eyebrows with intrigue "Huh, never knew that" He muttered. He then glanced back at the car "How're we gonna get to Knapford now? Car's a wreck and we need to get that star there before 6pm" He said, pointing to the decoration.

Charles shrugged "I suppose we have no choice but to continue on foot"

"In this weather and time?" Theodore exclaimed "It'll be two to three bloody hours or so until we reach Knapford!"

"We might as well try. Here, hold this" Charles replied, handing him the star "I'll be right back" and then he went back down the hill to where their car crashed.

After a few minutes, he came back carrying a small green wagon "This will do" He grinned.

His co-worker frowned "How's that old thing gonna help? It's as old as you!"

Charles rolled his eyes "Very funny. I got it when I was 5! Quit your whining!" He shot back as he set it on the track in front of Bruno. He then went back and grabbed the star from Theodore's hands. He placed the star gently in the wagon and beckoned Tabitha and Bruno to come closer. The pups rolled up to him with curious little chirps and squeaked as he lifted both of then into the wagon.

"Tada! It's like a baby-sized flatbed. We'll just pull this to Knapford and–"

Theodore cut him off "Woah woah woah...what do you mean by we?" He asked. Charles picked up the handle and started pulling "We'll take turns!"

Theodore just watched as Charles walked to Suddery with the star and pups in tow. Tabitha and Bruno babbled and gurgled as they were taken along the track. Reluctantly, Theodore groaned and followed behind. This was gonna be a long trip...

They travelled...

...and travelled.

...and traveled. It was until they reached the Wellsworth bridge that something happened.

"Ah shit!" Charles cursed, picking up the handle which had snapped and came off. They in the very middle of the mainline, and things were a little tense but all the more cold. It was now 5:00pm, the two were miraculously fast walkers, so at least it didn't take several more hours.

"Oh that's just great!" Theodore growled, smacking his face. Bruno sniffed at where the handle used to be and sneezed.

"We should just wait for an engine to come by" Theodore told Charles "Maybe if we shout, they'll hear us. They have ears like a rabbit!"

"There are no engines here or nearby! The mainline is closed for maintenance and gritting you stupid plonker!!"

While the two were arguing, both Tabitha and Bruno had climbed out of the wagon. Bruno was at the back and Tabitha at the front. They felt agitated and nervous from all the frustrated noises the two men were making, and it was almost night time.

"Tablpfffffffh! Ba...!" Bruno chattered, using his pilot wheels to pull himself up to see his sister.

"Braappffh! Gabah...bah!" She blabbered back. Just then, the two heard the sound of footsteps crunching against the ground. A fire-yellow colour drenched the snow in its hue, and a funny sense of calmness overcame both babies.

They looked up, and Bruno squeaked as looking back down on them was the man from his bad dream a few nights ago. He loomed over them, and Toby's crew didn't even acknowledge his existence, it was almost as if they couldn't see him.

He stared down at them, even with that creepy mask, it still felt like he was boring his eyes into their souls. Behind him, there was something big coming closer, it was gold and slightly sparkly; it was a golden cloud of mist. As it came closer, outlines appeared, along with two angelic eyes.

The outline soon took the shape of a ghostly engine, a steam engine, coming up behind the conductor. The ghost soon came to a stop directly behind him, both stared down at the two with golden eyes.

Theodore and Charles seemed to have faded out of existence, now only the siblings, the engine and the conductor remained. The conductor turned to face the engine behind him, the engine's mouth moved like she was talking to him, and he nodded. He turned back to them and stepped forward.

He gazed and crouched down to them, holding some sort of sparkly golden powder. Gently and slowly, he sprinkled some into Tabitha's funnel. Next, he sprinkled some gold powder into Bruno's funnel (tube? I know he's a brakevan but I'll just call it a funnel–). Both ended up sneezing and coughing a bit.

The gold dust felt weird, but nice...it was like having some lovely warm soup enter your stomach.

Soon, a burst of adrenaline coursed through the pair! Their faces lighting up and their wheels itching to move! Without waiting for Theodore and Charles to stop arguing, Tabitha and Bruno rolled forward at an amazingly fast pace.

"Wait, wha..." The driver and fireman noticed the two leave, moving the wagon themselves along the track. In panic, they gave chase.

"Stop! No, stop!!" Charles yelled.

"Oh god, Toby's gonna KILL us if they get hurt!" Theodore fretted, following Charles.

The two little pups panted and hurried along the tracks, whizzing past the nearby Nunnery.

Even with the energy burst, both babies were getting tired. Tabitha sweated profusely, on the verge of crying from the ache, even Bruno was crying a little.

Eventually, the sped past Crock's Scrapyard, where the workers gasped and yelled. Then, they zoomed through the town of Crosby. Bear gasped as he watched the two whizz past, confused and startled.

A tunnel soon came along and consumed them. It was dark and scary for a moment, but the light came back, what a relief! Bruno cried from the funny burn under his wheels, but kept pushing from behind while Tabitha pulled. They had the feeling of doing something important; never ever EVER give up!

After what felt like an hour of irresistible energy bursts, the two pups soon came to a halt, and found themselves pushing the wagon off the rails and up on to the platform where Sir Topham Hatt and his wife stood along with Mr Percival, Mr Fergus Duncan and the Earl.

Tabitha weakly rang her bell and squeaked for their attention. The Earl was the first to notice, and as soon as he did, he came running over "Oh my goodness!" He exclaimed, stopping and scooping up the two babies "Oh you poor poor things! What were you doing pushing such a heavy decoration?!"

Sir Topham Hatt and the other controllers came over as well, baffled and dumbfounded as well at the sight.

"What is the meaning of this?! Where are Theodore and Charles??" Sir Topham Hatt said, looking around angrily, angry at the thought that his own employees may have forced the two babies to work their frames off. It wasn't right!

"Sir!" Came a new voice.

Following the voice, two cold and out of breath men came running on to the platform. But before they could say anything, Sir Topham Hatt cut them off.

"What were you two THINKING?!" He boomed, stepping forward "...making an engine and her brakevan, who are still INCREDIBLY young do your own work?! Why, I am BEYOND disgusted!"

"W-Wait, no, Sir! Please, let us explain!"

"Explain?! Explain why you—" just then, Lady Hatt interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder "Hold on, Bertram. Let them explain...we need the full story if we are to understand the situation" She said soothingly.

The Fat Controller glared at the driver and fireman before sighing "Alright then, you two...tell us what happened"

And so, the duo explained their actions. They explained how it all started with nearly hitting a cow on the road, crashing into a ditch. Then how they used a little old wagon to pull the star across a chunk of the railway, then entering a problem with the handle snapping off. Finally, they ended on how the two pups suddenly began speeding off with the wagon in tow.

The group stared at them with blown wide eyes. They were as silent as mice, not a peep. Finally, Mr Percival spoke up "Ehem! Well, considering how our engines became giant furry train monsters, that story doesn't seem our of the ordinary!" He chuckled. Everyone took a second to murmer their agreements and giggled themselves.

"Well then, now that we got our star...I believe the party should be going underway right about now?" Sir Topham Hatt asked. Now that was something everyone would settle with.

So, the star was taken to the new Christmas tree and placed on top where everyone would see! The light shows were spectacular, and the music was amazing. It was certainly the dawn of a happy new year!

Happy New Year!!

Credit songs (listen to if you want ^_^)

[unpopularvivian]

Look for AmySightsHazy's dub of Identity Crisis with lyrics

I had fun with this one.

Hope you enjoy the TATAM references. I thought you'd enjoy that.

Erie music......

Thomas???: Look at all the identities that I can claim! Your team thinks their smart to play the blaming game!

Thomas: Standing here staring at my carbon copy, but your voice don't sound the same your acts sloppy.

Thomas???: I'll have my way!

*Shift*

Atherton (Bear): The breath in your lungs you hold dear will finally disappear as I strangle and mangle make you look obscene so cry, don't try to fly passed the roof, into the sky

Thomas: Your hands will not get near my throat I don't wanna hear you gloat won't let you wear my face like a leather coat.

Atherton: Count your seconds. I. Will. END YOU!

*Shift*

Diesel 10: You have the nerve, I observe, your ass is supposed to be tasked. Your bro's dead? Didn't ask! Simon says to break like glass!

Thomas: You tripping up on your words? Haven't passed the second verse, you've already failed at converse maybe you should have rehearsed! Know I'm not beeping won't fall to your reaping!

Diesel 10: You gave up on your freedom to come and face off with

*Shift*

Both: ME!

Atherton: You lie to fight why go? When

Both: Despite! All the lengths they had tried! They, all had died!

*Shift to falling through 16's domain*

Sixteen: You've entered dismay, meet the end of your days sweet or somber you'll see I'll find a way a way to take over and conquer to VICTORY!

Thomas: Still haven't fallen to your destruction so lets skip over the reintroduction!

Sixteen: Set the stage for all the rage that I hold in me will release the lighting is striking around the flooding drowning out your sounds!

Thomas: Come at me with your rampage a slaughter in a serenade I'd love to fight, continue but it seems my time is skewed!

*Shift to black*

Atherton: ................TARGET!

Thomas: Some sort of hit out on me?

Atherton: They all have red dots aimed at your back!

Thomas: I'll survive and that's a guarantee.

Atherton: I'll attack! The path we take might have been a fatal mistake but you have yet to separate the differences between our experiences at this game, choose wisely, don't go, CRYING!

Thomas: Hear my calling, your appalling, Seems you've given me a choice to give up now or use my voice we've entered a new chapter your nothing short of a trash actor!

*Shift to a cliff above the sea*

Montague: THE SYMPATHY THAT'S PLAYED BY MY WHOLE MASQUERADE WILL LET SHOW THAT ALL ENDINGS NEAR NO FAIL ALL AGAIN AROUND FOR I'M THE PROFITEER!

Thomas: You think that you gain to put me in restrains or to cause a cascade what do you think is your part to play?

Montague: So you see, at the end of the line we show our truest colors one last time!

Thomas: You wear a mask, fade through shades of black, I'll take away your own golden plaque.

*Shift*

Atherton: Your final chance to run has been thrown away, you were never synchronized up too my play!

Thomas: Didn't think we were playing on a stage-

Atherton: Follow my way! You have fought back and fought to your core and yet you still seem to be an imbecile to restore all the answers to my mystery!

Thomas: Know exactly what you could be, a facade to me, I'll beat you down You won't crawl away from me as your voice drowns out as your voice drowns out!

Atherton: The bravest will all get to see your blood splattered on the wall you'll hear for once your words will make you fall Won't cry, don't try, you've,

Both: FLOWN PAST THE ROOF INTO THE SKY!

Atherton: Swollen, stolen, turned to nothing,

Both: My own life my own face, my identity!

Thomas: You fell below!

*Shift*

Diesel 10: I'm the star of the show! So here's what to know! From me to you,

Both: I'll rise you'll fall!

*Shift*

Sixteen: Into your final curtain cue! Changing lights to every hue!

Thomas: As I have explained a million times I won't be letting you take MT face for your crimes for your crimes! Won't give my rights of rhymes away to those who choose to slaughter attack you choose to slay!

*Shift*

Montague: If it'll take to be everything all the time, I'll do whatever it'll take to be crossed the line!

Thomas: The curse has made all those obscene, there was no fix nothing to help them, without a vaccine!

*Shift*

Diesel 10: Constant changing will not stop me now!

Thomas: You enjoy this pain you sought out?

Both: The pain won't make me stop!

*Shift*

Thomas and Sixteen: My REIGN CANT PUSH ME FROM THE TOP

*Shift*

Thomas and Montague: THE CARDS I'D DEALT NEVER SAID I'D MELT!

*Fade to black*

Deformed Thomas???: Well if it's not for I, You too are losing time. This will be the mirror of your life. Our primes, soon will-

Both: DIE!

*Then, everything around the two suddenly shatters and breaks as the pieces crash on the two of them. Frightened, Thomas springs up from his bed looking terrified at what happened.*

Thomas: *Heavy gasping* AAHHH!!!!! O-Oh Lady, w-hat the h-ell was g-oing on?...

*Suddenly, the door to Thomas' room creaks open as Toby walks up to him with a concerned expression.*

Toby: Thomas?.... Is everything alright?...

Thomas: Oh goodness.... Somehow, I managed to see Atherton, Montague and whatever that 16 dude was!!!! Am I....Hallucinating?....

Toby: Oh, Thomas. Perhaps it was just the bad memories manifesting. Everything will be alright.

*Outside, Oliver was spying at the two of them, waiting to make his next move....*