#ttte oc crovan

[duskstargazer]

[1983]

Thorkell made his way out of the Works, and back to the main station. James was waiting just beyond one of the platforms.

“…So?” James grinned. “What’cha think?”

Thorkell furrowed his brow. “Shouldn’t you be in a siding, not blocking an entry line?”

“Nah. Have you ever seen a train pull in on either of these tracks?”

Thorkell couldn’t say he had. He then wondered why that was.

James rebounded the conversation before he could ask further.

“I see you went with blue.”

“It’s fitting.” Thorkell argued. “I was blue on the Other Railway, so it stands to reason that I would be here as well.”

“But,” he added, in a more perplexed tone, “I will say, I was a bit surprised when they added the red lining. Not that I hate it,” he added, quickly, “just… not what I was expecting.”

“All our diesels are lined.” James replied, simply. “You haven’t noticed?”

“Huh. Guess I never really picked up on it. Your railway’s full of oddities like that.”

“Hah. You don’t know the half.”

[kumatajdg]

Another Thomas the Tank Engine OC - this time a commission! Twitter user @SudderyMedia asked me to draw their OC Thompson at Crovan's Gate works, having been freshly repainted.

[theluckystarfish]

Orcasaurus Crovan

And here we finaly got Crovan as a orcasaurus for my ttte au. He's smaller then Alfred and is a hybrid like his orginal engine self. A hybrid with unknow past.

[arandomthomasfan]

My shitty OC’s, Stella and Shunter

[theflyingkipper]

December 1935

(my first attempt at writing ttte fic and I hope it’s ok)

Train drivers/human AU, Henry’s fireman is an oc, the events of TFK but in my human au

—————

Workmen were bustling about the engine sheds, oiling joints and checking circulation pumps. They were blurs of dusty blue and busy hands, faces streaked with grease and coal. Leopold was no different, just as grey looking as the rest. He was stoking the fire in one of the big engines. He and the engine were alike in that they were not quite awake yet- Leopold had been up for less than two hours and his body was still heavy with sleep. The cold air outside had invigorated him a bit, but the heat of the fire was a bit too cozy and threatened to make him doze off again. Leopold shook himself, drowsiness would get him killed on the rails. Especially now, it was a frigid December night and visibility was poor.

Henry had been outside, checking the axles of the engine, and he ducked his head to climb into the cab.

He was smiling. He was already at the controls before Leopold spoke.

“You’re happy today,” Leopold remarked, raking the growing fire.

Henry was usually rather gloomy, complaining of illness or, around this time of year, the cold. Even next to the roaring fire of the engine, he still buttoned his green overcoat all the way up and wrapped his scarf tightly. Today, it hung loosely around his shoulders. His long black curls were tied back, and Leopold could see where the cold had bitten his ears.

“We’re pulling the Flying Kipper,” Henry chirped, as if it meant anything.

“At five in the bloody morning,” Leopold hissed.

“It runs all the way till Manchester, you know. We can show the controller what this engine’s really capable of,”

“You’re really happy about the new coal, aren’t you?” Leopold stopped raking to give his arms a rest.

Henry removed himself from the controls to glower at Leopold. “The one morning I wake up on the right side of the bed, and you go and spoil it with your piss mood,”

This was the Henry Leopold was used to, and the sudden change in tone almost made him snort.

The engine rolled out of the sheds, letting off steam. Snowflakes blew onto the boiler and pistons and melted at the touch. The luckier ones stuck to the buffer beams and began to form an icy casing on them.

It was an infamously faulty engine, the controller had purchased it expecting a Robinson Atlantic. It looked somewhere between that and a very green A1 Pacific, and for years it had had the worst steaming problems out of all the locomotives on the island. With the purchase of high grade Welsh coal, however, it ran as smoothly as the express engine brought in the replace it. The controller still had his doubts, however, and this special goods train would give the poor tin can a chance to prove its worth.

Henry and Leopold were most often stationed at this engine, they knew how to work around its finicky controls better than anyone else at Tidmouth, or as Henry had once jokingly boasted- the engineers at Crovan’s gate. Leopold didn’t think of himself that way, trains were trains to him. He was just fine in the cab of any other big engine, but the controls of the green elephant were the ones he was usually stuck behind. Leopold didn’t mind, Henry was always there, and he liked Henry’s company.

The harbor was even colder than the engine yard, and the smoke from the green elephant’s funnel was extra visible, forming a cloud overhead. Henry had wrapped his scarf and tucked it into the front of his coat, now effectively chilled by the winds coming off the sea.

A line of vans, salt wagons, and trucks were coupled to the back of the engine. This was the train the railwaymen called The Flying Kipper, and it would run from Tidmouth to the Mainland.

The guard showed his green lamp, and Henry gave a great blast of the engine’s whistle. He shifted the controls, and the engine’s wheels spun. The rails were icy, and the vans were heavy.

“Come on, don’t be silly!” He hissed, checking the wheelslip. He and Leopold got the engine back under control, and they began to smoothly accelerate out of the harbor, the vans clanking and shuddering behind them.

As the sky was getting brighter, Leopold made a remark. “Can you imagine if we’d gotten stuck there?” he dug around in the engine’s tender for new coal.

Henry laughed, but his face quickly fell.

“With all the effort we’ve put toward this mess of an engine, it’d be embarrassing.”

Embarrassing was an understatement. Henry and Leopold would have both been crushed, and probably gotten a great lecture from the controller, too. Leopold stopped thinking about it. The harbor had long disappeared into the snowy air behind them, and with it the fear of seeing the engine be hauled away for scrap.

What would have been worse than the controller lecturing them would be Gordon chewing them out. Though he and Henry were friends, Leopold did not like him in the slightest. Leopold had no patience for his vain indifference, or how he boasted about being related to Sir Nigel Gresley. Had Leopold not wanted to keep his job, he would have socked Gordon in the face ages ago. Though, now, he felt he didn’t need to do that.

Gordon manned the Wild Nor’Wester, the island’s express service, usually pulled by the biggest and strongest engine on the island, which happened to be the one brought in to replace the green elephant. Once, the engine had broken down, and the green elephant had to take over for it. Leopold had sat in silent triumph, Gordon’s utter and complete uselessness there was worth a thousand face-punches.

Leopold spotted a yellow signal outside, and Henry did too. He shut off steam, preparing to stop. The home signal was down, however, and they kept moving. “Go on, Away we go.”

Not long after, Leopold looked up from shoveling coal to see Henry sticking his head out of the cab, the brisk wind tossing his hair. He looked jubilant, grinning while shielding his eyes. His cap blew away, and his hand moved from his brow to the top of his head in surprise.

They passed another green signal, and Henry withdrew.

“All clear,” he said to Leopold.

“Your foreheads’ all clear.” Leopold shot back. They both laughed.

Leopold stuck his own head out the window. The snow had stopped falling, but wind whipped at his face. He held onto the brim of his cap. Though he was chilled to the bone, he gulped the cold air gratefully. The heat of the engine was making him feverish.

With the snow gone, he could see more clearly what was up ahead.

There was a goods train on the line.

Leopold and Henry scrambled for the emergency brakes, but it was too late. Leopold leapt out of the engine’s cab, falling headfirst into a bank of snow.

The engine smashed into the train’s brake van, and trucks flew off the rails.

Leopold kicked furiously, trying to free himself from the snow. He was so cold. He was so cold and he couldn’t move. He shifted his weight to his hips and leaned himself out of the icy hole, shivering and numb.

There were vans and crates scattered everywhere, and the brake van was in smithereens. Leopold saw two bright lights up ahead of him, swinging and getting closer.

“Henry! Henry!!” Leopold called out. His voice was swallowed by the wind.

The two lights were the lamps of two railwaymen, presumably the driver and fireman of the goods train he’d crashed into. The driver was grizzled and just as cold as he was, but he seemed far more worried than angry. “Are you alright there?” He said to Leopold, who was frozen. “Come with us, we’ll telephone the breakdown cranes!”

Leopold was sure the driver said more, but he was being whisked away before he could process it.

The green elephant was on its side, framed by wreckage and sweeping lines drawn in the snow. Henry was nowhere to be seen.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Shipping thing let's do Percy.

Oooooh.

Okay, heads up for anyone who is unaware. I don't subscribe to the notion of "tank engines = children," nor of Percy in particular being "underage." He's a gullible, short-tempered, impulsive little chaos agent, but I don't see him as a child and therefore I'm prepared to ship him. And to ship him with anyone, at that.

💞✨  OTP ✨ 💞: n/a

There’s not nearly enough good Percy ship content to make such a drastic call. I’m still wiiiiiiiiide open.

Besides, he’s a bit of a flirt. The more love, the better. (And he can get it. Nearly everyone says he’s handsome, you know!)

Other Ships That Are 👌: Duck

one of my OC post vans

some sort of Lost Lenore from his mainland days? (they’re used to being long-distance, so he doesn’t arrive on Sodor thinking that he’s lost them—but as the years go by he does lose track of his old flame and eventually knows what that must mean…)

Interesting But Fence ����: Jinty, Terence, Rosie, Salty, Molly, Harold, Harvey, Nia

Better As Friends 😊: Duncan.

Look, I just want Percy and Duncan to somehow meet up, all right? Like, have an extended period to get acquainted, maybe while Percy is stuck at Crovan’s Gate a while? And they rub on very comfortably indeed?

And after hanging with Duncan for roughly… 1.5 seconds… Percy goes back to his roots.

Meaning he sounds like a docker. Y’know?

And, like, Skarloey and the rest are aghast, and the Fat Controller doesn’t officially know about it but he’s side-eying the thing too, and Duncan’s just all This wuddn’t me! He’s just like this!

But there’s nobody but that gives him all the blame for corrupting their supposed cinnabun caterpillar, lol.

Meh 😑 / Overrated : T H O M A S

It Happened Once In A Dream 🌑 (or AU 🤔): I absolutely see Percy having a crush on Molly, and in fact I really like the idea (pinched from MozaWesterberg on ff dot net) that Percy takes over Thomas’s role in “Molly’s Special Special.”

That said, I don’t think it ever goes beyond a very nice friendship. (I’d still read fic on the ship, though. Though I say that like I have standards—there’s not so much TTTE fic out there that I’m actually choosy about what I click.)

If I Had to Put Them in a Polycule 💗: Crackship idea, but:

One day Bill and Ben observed Percy and Henry in a blazing row. Since this is before dieseasels come to Sodor, Henry is the only engine that they are scared of, and they are most impressed by Percy’s nerve.

Both develop a sort of hero-worship crush. It takes them roughly six or seven decades to go through the stages of denial and then for their tug-of-war fight (“he’s MINE!” “you can’t even speak to him, yeh knob—so he’s mine”) to get out of hand enough for Percy to catch wind of it.

Luckily, he knows exactly how to handle it. Smoothly kisses one, then the other, winks, then chuffs away.

That keeps both of them satisfied and stymied for another seventy years or so.

NOTP 😤: Don’t think I have any—even in the case of Thomas, much as I usually dislike this ship, I admit that they do wind up doing some version of dating in my “ex-engine” AU. (A lot of them do, though it’s more of a Coping Mechanism to deal with the massive life upheaval than anything... Training Wheels until they get a better grip on How to Human.)

[feigeroman]

I posted 126 times in 2021

120 posts created (95%)

6 posts reblogged (5%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.1 posts.

I added 890 tags in 2021

#thomas the tank engine - 120 posts

#the railway series - 120 posts

#sodor - 115 posts

#island of sodor - 115 posts

#north western railway - 108 posts

#ttte headcanon - 101 posts

#ttte analysis - 99 posts

#ttte oc - 53 posts

#original character - 52 posts

#incorrect ttte quotes - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 57 characters

#you could substitute percy for literally any other engine

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Head empty. No thoughts. No kings, no gods...

Only Toby.

30 notes • Posted 2021-10-18 08:46:21 GMT

#4

One night at Ffarquhar Sheds...

Thomas: What time is it, Percy?

Percy: Dunno. Give me a second, and I'll find out...

*Percy whistles furiously for a minute or so*

Daisy, over in the carriage shed: WHO THE HELL IS BLOWING THEIR WHISTLE AT 3AM?!

*Percy stops whistling*

Percy: It's 3am.

33 notes • Posted 2021-08-30 14:28:05 GMT

#3

On the standard and narrow (gauge)...

Right, for starters, does everyone know who Victor is? Here he is:

The main shunter at the Sodor Steamworks, at least in canon. My headcanon is that instead of the separate steam and diesel workshops, all major repairs are concentrated in a single facility at Crovan’s Gate (I also reckon that there are other smaller workshops spread across Sodor, but that’s neither here nor there).

Anyway, as part of that headcanon, I wanted to keep Victor as the main works shunter, but my issue was this: What gauge to make him? He’s based on a standard gauge prototype, but is canonically the same narrow gauge as the Skarloey Railway engines. There are some equally good cases for going in either direction: Making him standard gauge would allow more to be done with the character, as he could then travel further. However, narrow gauge would be in keeping with canon, and also pay lip service to similar engines in works like Crewe or Doncaster.

That was the problem I faced, until I happened upon a solution: Why not just do both? And how might this be done, no-one asked? Allow me to introduce you to something called a haulage truck:

See the full post

34 notes • Posted 2021-01-05 19:58:16 GMT

#2

‘Edward’s Day Out’ in a nutshell...

55 notes • Posted 2021-07-30 12:34:06 GMT

#1

Thomas: You know, Toby, It's real sad that Henry isn't here to help us anymore...

Henry, in the background: I'm right here! Stop telling everybody I'm still bricked up in the tunnel!

Thomas, ignoring him: Sometimes, I can still hear his voice...

92 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 17:24:56 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[duskstargazer]

[1966]

“You're back late, aren’t you?”

“Some Ivatt Mogul derailed just outside a yard.” Diesel 7603 grunted. “Cost me and like three other engines like an hour and a half.”

“Damn. Won't have to deal with that for much longer.”

“Deal with what?” The big green diesel spoke up.

“You haven't heard?” Diesel 8028 replied, dismissively. “They're doin’ away with steam engines. By this time next year, steam won't even be allowed on the main line.”

The diesel blinked. “Doing away with? Not like they’re doing now, right…?”

“Not at all.” 8028 rolled his eyes. “We’re talking complete removal. They’ll all be disappearing.”

“Disappearing…?”

“So too will all that congestion in the scheduling.” Diesel 7603 remarked at the same time, drowning out The Diesel’s discontented comment.

The “Whistler” remained quiet after that. He paid little attention to the coarse joking and rude remarks about steam engines from his fellow shedmates. A lonely, strangled goods yard, and several hollering, howling voices still echoed within his radiator.

[duskstargazer]

At the Works Station, Henry had left the VIP's and their coach, to run into a siding to take on water.

"Hello, what's that?" Henry mused.

"Good grief!" He gasped, a second later. "Is that James?!"

The signalmen were as surprised as Henry. The branch line train had only just left, and they had not reset the junction points…