#ttte the thin clergyman

[houseboatisland]

real talk tho. if awdry hadn’t set a precedent of most dialogue being engines… bitching at each other, people would probably write it less in his footsteps

Is it just me or does some of Wilbert’s stories feel a little … mean spirited, lol?

Go on... 🤭

[anonymousboxcar]

Stanley (RWS) Time!

These are all to do with my AU series, so I guess I can’t call them headcanons, exactly. Just some ramblings. Hope you enjoy! :)

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-In 1987, the Thin Clergyman publishes The Island of Sodor: Its People, History and Railways. Stanley is still sore over his depiction in the RWS, so he turns his nose up at it. But Duke greets him at the sheds one night with a copy, saying he might want to read a certain passage.

-The passage is about him. And this time, it’s right. His name, his improper re-gauging, his history — all of it.

-It turns out the Thin Clergyman wanted to make things right. Stanley is surprised but also touched. After some thought, he reaches out to thank him for the corrections… and to forgive him. The Thin Clergyman’s done his best to make amends and match his good intentions with his actions. That’s enough for an engine long weary of grudges and wasting time.

-Following Stanley’s lead, the other SR engines begin speaking to the Thin Clergyman again. While awkward at first, things smooth over. The man spends his final years a friend of the railway once more.

-Once he sorts out his new life, Stanley finds he and Duncan get along like a house on fire. They share a “coarse” sense of humor and a tendency to say things as they see them. If allowed to do so, they’ll spend hours watching Duncan’s tapes of George Carlin. “Unlike you lot, he gets it!” Duncan snaps at everyone else when they complain.

-But as he also points out in private, it does Stanley good to laugh. It’s the kind that leaves him wheezing like he’s out of water, too happy to even speak. It’s the laugh of someone who didn’t have much of a chance to do so before.

-When the others notice Stanley seems more at ease after these watch sessions, they agree. Rusty shoots Duncan knowing smirks that he endures with minimal grumbling.

-Speaking of Rusty, I’ve decided that my joke in “Straddling The Lines” about poker night does come to pass: They and Stanley do wind up joining Duke, Rheneas, and Skarloey on said evenings! There’s no such thing as teams in poker, but they cheer each other on as “fellow youngsters” when given the chance.

-They practice their poker faces in advance, sometimes making a game of it: whoever goes the longest gets to delegate their tasks for the day. Rusty appreciates doing something other than maintenance work every now and then, and Stanley needs his breaks from goods and demanding passengers. (The Thin Controller sees this helps their productivity and allows the adjustments to the schedule.)

-For a short while, Stanley is a bit starstruck by Skarloey and Rheneas. Even in his MSR days, their reputations as wise, brave, and kind engines were known to him, as they were to every engine on Sodor. After his rescue from the mine, he also learns about their heroics in the SR’s tough times.

-Seeing them bicker, tease, and swear at each other helps bring Stanley back to earth. So does their gentleness towards him, which eases any lingering anxieties of his.

-Rheneas appreciates Stanley’s frankness while encouraging him not to take on too much, to know he’ll always have others to help with burdens. Skarloey delights in Stanley’s refusal to put up with anyone’s foolishness, noticing when he gets a bit too angry and offering his own experience in managing a short temper.

-Duke and Stanley work to find their rails with each other. Neither of them want to go back to their MSR dynamic, but anything else takes more time to puzzle out. It doesn’t take long at all, though, for their nicknames of “youngster” and “old timer” to stick.

-They banter about the local news and politics, pull the occasional train together, and commiserate over their shared experiences in feeling “out of time,” after being lost for years. Duke refuses to give up his poker secrets, but Stanley swears he’ll get them out of him one day.

-They’re friends, but also mentor and student. They’re Duke and Stanley, and they get along. That’s all that matters, they decide.

-Peter Sam’s optimism is of a balm to Stanley after years of hopelessness. He’s also grateful for advice in pulling coaches. He tries to repay this by teaching him some of the working songs he picked up in America, as well as by reassuring him when he’s unable to keep from feeling low. Peter Sam appreciates this to no end.

-Sir Handel is boastful, but has immense respect for Stanley and so shows off… which he denies as Stanley teases him for it. They squabble over silly things but would bash anyone’s buffers for each other. Sir Handel also introduces Stanley to Gordon, which somehow goes both much worse and much better than expected.

[number1spongebobfan]

Today is St. Luke's Day, so I decided to draw Luke the Irish engine painting a picture of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus. I know there are a lot of Catholics in Ireland. He's a little shy, but the Thin Clergyman is very proud of his work.

[traintrainingmontage]

@astro-tram This one's for you, since I saw your kind words and figured "you know what? If someone's interested, I won't say no!"

CW: mentions of blood, injury

TTTE White Witch AU

-White witches have existed on Sodor for a very long time. It's said that they get their power from the land itself, a blessing upon those who care for it. Witches live in many, many more areas of the world, of course, but for our purposes, we will not further discuss them.

-The witch families live all over the island, and they form a coven with a long and storied history. Their individual family histories have been recorded in ancient documents. The Thin Clergyman doesn't like talking about that particular aspect of Sodor's history.

-It's said that the ancient goddess of fire and travel, who loved humans, especially favored the white witches and took pains to assist them in various ways. One such way was gold dust, which could be used to travel across great distances, and call one's familiar to their side.

-White witches have always specialized in matters of warding, protection, luck, and healing.

-Witches have always had familiars. This is to protect them from those who would covet their power. Originally, only certain animals (those who had enough intelligence that an Awakening ritual could be done to make them sapient) were used as familiars, but once humans wrought from the earth unliving creatures of fire and iron, the goddess decided, with the consent of all the lands of the world, that such creatures could also be familiars, and thus, they as a whole were Awakened.

-Skarloey was requested to be a familiar in about 1912. The Sam family had been working on the railway since 1897, and were thus quite familiar with engines by this point. With tensions high elsewhere in Europe, there was much concern over both the human and non-human threats to Sodor.

-One night, while being chased by an undead intent on getting her power, Beatrice Sam, Robert Sam's sister, ran to Skarloey and asked for his help. Creatures of fire and iron are inherently strong against those of an undead persuasion, so Beatrice hoped with all her heart that her instinct saying this sapient vehicle could be a familiar was correct. Skarloey agreed to her plea and they formed a pact.

-Beatrice gave some of her blood to the engine, cutting her palm and letting a few drops sizzle in his firebox, pleading in Old Sudric that he become her protector. With her power, Skarloey began to take on a more bipedal, humanoid appearance, although he was still very much a machine. Metal creaked and parts shifted as he stood, his frames moving to accomodate the will of his contractor, as he quickly pulled Beatrice out of where his cab suddenly wasn't and cradled her in his arm like she were a doll. At 549 cm tall, he towered above the trees. Steam began to pour from his funnel, pure and white, and with his own power, the engine began to move of his own accord. He set Beatrice down, and headed toward his foe.

-The engine pummeled the pursuer into submission. It was not a battle; it was a beating. Skarloey didn't know how to fight; he could only flail and hit aimlessly. It was enough, however; engine and witch could only stare helplessly at each other as the undead collapsed into dust, suddenly all too mindful of what this all meant. As the effect wore off and Skarloey took his engine form once again, Beatrice wordlessly got into his cab and sobbed until morning.

-It was later on that Rheneas would be enlisted as a familiar associated with the Brown family. After Sir Handel acquired the Skarloey Railway, it was thought that Jane Brown (the eventual Lady Hatt) might make the request, but she already had a familiar, and a familiar's pact cannot be broken unless it is transferred to another witch, or the previous witch dies.

-However, it would actually be Sir Handel Brown's daughter-in-law, Rachel Qualtrough Brown, who would first request Rheneas' protection.

-As it happened, the first one to approach Edward to be her familiar was Barbara Jane Hatt, Jane Hatt's daughter. She had heard tell of Skarloey and Rheneas' exploits, and felt that Edward was a good, kind, reliable engine, unlike Thomas others. With Sodor being as supernaturally-inclined as it was, and her whole family being railway enthusiasts, it really only made sense.

-Presently, the year is 1970. Nancy Rushen, Beatrice Sam's great-granddaughter, is 17, and would trust nobody but Skarloey to see her through all the troubles and tribulations she senses on the horizon. She's still quite a serious soul, but she's also loosened up quite a bit over the years.

-The same can be said of 16-year-old Rebecca Dorothy Brown, Rheneas' contractor and Nancy's best friend, who is quite good at math and hates to leave a phenomenon unexplored or unexplained. She can't shake the feeling that something very strange is happening over at Ward Fell.

-27-year-old Bridget Hatt, who thinks of Nancy and Rebecca like little sisters, would only trust Edward with her well-being as she patrols the NWR's railways. They've had a lot of strange incidents over the years, and although their magic has held, Bridget wants to try and get to the bottom of just what's trying to undermine her beloved railway.

[nwr-astrotrain]

Random TTTE head canons and ideas No.1

Henry is a bit of a history buff and also likes to keep up with current events. When there is time his crew will read to him from the newspaper or a book about something he’s interested in. When he’s being prepared for the day or scrubbed down at night he’ll ask to listen to the radio. The only other engine that he can have really in depth conversations about such things is Edward (who gets most of his information from just talking to people).

Although the engines will give Henry a light ribbing for this interest they know it’s important to him and will turn to him for context and an understandable explanation when needed on such subjects.

Although not particularly interested in fiction he has a soft spot for mid century science fiction particularly Doctor Who novelizations. This has led to him calling rude mainland diesels “Daleks” from time to time.

In modern times his current driver has gotten a tablet and will occasionally show Henry videos and play audiobooks on the sort of things that interest him. Though Henry prefers to be read too because in his own words, “It’s just so much nicer to hear a familiar voice do it.”

Henry’s personal recommendations to other engines if they ever want to start being read to are: “ Heroes of History” by Winston Churchill, “The Daleks” by Terry Nations, and “Anything by The Thin Clergyman, of course!” He’ll say with a wink.

[transsexualunderground]

finally, a post about the Secondman! + an announcement (the-secondman -> prideoftheline)

Hi! So, I finally decided to write a post about my rws/ttte sona, but funnily I decide this just as I'm giving up this URL. The thing is, this being my sona's title/name came about because it was... like, just uncommon in URLs, if I recall correctly. The current Secondman is much more... not always playing the role of a secondman. He's more of a... Volunteer. He's gonna get a working tag for now while I sort out his name/title/wtv. However, this doesn't mean the secondman-based tagging system is leaving alongside my sona changes and URL! It's just gonna be a relic and also fun for the bit. <3

Below the cut is where I properly describe the Secondman(...?) himself! I just wanted to announce my URL change and do something nifty with this post too!

So, this guy. The... guy who's to be named. He's not a trainsona, I still gotta make myself one o' those, but he's more of my... authorsona! If the Thin Clergyman exists, I see no reason why I can't conceptualize this guy and think about him engaging in a few goofs as a treat.

So, he's a volunteer on the railways of Sodor, modern day. He moved to Sodor for a multitude of reasons, a bit for schooling, a bit for the railways, and a bit just outta... Vibes and interests. Probably also legislation, too. I've always sort of hc'd the Island of Sodor as having some damn good legislation.

But he ends up taking interest in a lot of things, especially any engines who never quite got their stories told. Among the some 80 NWR engines, for example, barely any have been referenced in the stories! Our friend here, he doesn't exactly know why this is... so he takes to documenting other stories!

And that's just sort of a thing he does now. He's just havin' a good ol' time. good for him <3

[houseboatisland]

📂🎇

I've been thinking recently about what a sea change the immediate postwar years, (let's say 1947-53) were for the Sudrian narrow gauge, not only in terms of how their railways were turned upside down in this period, but also just how fraught with tension the engines themselves must have been.

I call this the "Three Little Engines Era," because the newly-preserved Skarloey Railway was just Skarloey, Sir Handel and Peter Sam. Rheneas was still being mended, (and would continue to be until 1961, holy moly,) and neither Rusty nor Duncan had arrived.

A few key factoids to bear in mind before we dive in, some canonical and others my own personal touches:

The Skarloey Railway's existence was touch-and-go, not just under Sir Handel Brown but even the preservationists for a few years. Rheneas' condition was poor but he was called upon daily. Skarloey meanwhile was only to be used in the most dire emergencies, which alone says a lot about how he was doing.

Sir Handel and Peter Sam have been gut-punched with trauma in the span of a few years. Their one and only home is gone. Their mentor/father figure, Duke, is at best MIA or at worst was scrapped behind their backs in lieu of the MSR's debts. They lived an uncertain, unloved and grim couple of years at the Peel Godred Aluminum Works, nearly a whole year of which was standing idle and covered up. They now have to take new names on a new railway they have no guarantee will survive either, which makes seeing it all as a fresh start way harder than it could've been.

In my headcanon, the Skarloey and Mid Sodor were briefly one entity. A la the Festiniog and Welsh Highland, they merged from 1923-37 in a bid to survive increasing pressures as a single company. This partnership was hardly harmonious, and financially was more trouble than it was worth. When it ended, there were grudges simmering on both sides of the breakup, not just among human staff and management but also the engines themselves. Falcon, now Sir Handel, had an especially huge axe to grind with the SR, (because it's Sir Handel, drama extraordinaire,) and he carried this chip on his frame when he came to the Skarloey. So that's fun.

Lastly, in my headcanon, the Mid Sodor Railway's 1947 closure wasn't exactly a closure. Like the Festiniog, although the moribund MSR ran no trains of its own, it allowed the nearby quarries to use its rails at a small cost. Thus the rails were left, (although decaying unhindered,) and the company still existed. Sir Handel, and even Peter Sam, found this particularly hard to bear because their home was still right there existing and rotting, and they were probably exiled forever. When this arrangement ended in 1955, and the MSR was really and truly dead, it cut them deeper still.

Was that a lot? Good, there's more.

Both within the books and without, the newly-christened Sir Handel and Peter Sam started their new lives on the SR on the wrong wheel. Sir Handel insulted Skarloey to his face, and then insulted his lifelong coaches to his face next. (These, in the locomotive world, are fighting words.) Sir Handel also had an Emmy-worthy fit when he learned he and Peter Sam were to be painted red, which was so fierce and embarrassing to witness, that this was shelved forever. Hence, they remain blue and green, and the Manager had a horrible impression of the blue engine. The Owner, whose name was carried by this engine, was completely disgusted.

Peter Sam meanwhile establishes himself, accidentally, as the Golden Child, even accounting for the mishap with the Refreshment Lady. He works hard, the coaches love him to bits, and he even carried the railway when Sir Handel was on punishment. Apart from his excitable nature, he's everything Skarloey admires in an engine, and the two become very tight. Sir Handel is of course fuming, (how dare Peter Sam show him up by just doing a good job and knowing his place in the world?!) and resents the immobilized Skarloey still more as "a crippled waste of space trafficking in patronage and favoritism." Skarloey remained cool and professional about this outburst, but in all likelihood hated Sir Handel down to his rivets.

I really don't know where it all would have ended, had Skarloey not needed to bail Sir Handel out that one Market Day. Skarloey is a principled engine, and naturally came to Sir Handel's aid for the sake of the passengers and the railway. The same way Peter Sam is everything Skarloey envisions in an ideal engine, so he sees Sir Handel (at this time) as everything in a terrible engine. Uppity, self-centered, provocative, and most of all, shiftless. If there's one thing Skarloey can't stand, it's an engine who shirks.

Sir Handel's position on the railway was fairly safe despite everything, emboldening him and making Skarloey's faded paint boil. There were times, we've seen, where Sir Handel was legitimately scared, and the Manager was clearly willing to come down hard on him even when it put the railway back to having only one workable engine. Unseen in the books were the hushed nighttime conferences between Skarloey and Mr. Sam, where he pleaded with the Manager if there was any way to send this turbulent blue beast away, and the Manager repeatedly could only sigh and say this was how things were for the near future. Unbeknownst to either of them or Sir Handel was Peter Sam clinging to every word and worrying what could happen if his adoptive brother didn't shape up. He's still never revealed hearing any of this, and Skarloey and Mr. Sam have never let on to discussing such.

Skarloey went through HELL running the trains that day, and it wasn't just the one train, either. He leaked precious steam and suffered a snapped front spring, but additionally had to deal with a broken firebox stay bulging out of his side, which could have made Skarloey a rolling bomb. It was only after the Manager intervened that the Thin Clergyman agreed not to include that in the book. It would be bad for passenger receipts!

Sir Handel had his momentary change of heart after Skarloey's endeavor. As said, he resolved to manage the coaches in Skarloey's Way, and he did want so badly for Skarloey to be home! If Peter Sam were to reveal how he daily asked for updates about Skarloey's overhaul, Sir Handel would squash him flatter than his new funnel. This didn't last however. It was only about half a year before Sir Handel settled into something between his "the first Sir Handel" and "Skarloey's Way Sir Handel," which the others have learned to tolerate as the best they'll get! But it has to be said that Sir Handel did grow considerably given the circumstances.

Peter Sam hasn't changed much at all. He's still helpful and hard-working to a fault, and still "hard to handle" flighty. Skarloey has still adopted him as a son, and the coaches still fawn over him as a listening ear and a sensitive and gentlemanly engine. Peter Sam's dynamic with the coaches is basically "the one male at the tea party, and the old ladies assembled love him and want to pinch his cheeks." The biggest change, special funnels aside, is Sir Handel being less bothered by his closeness with Skarloey. It infuriated Sir Handel to see an old fart who never moved dote on his quasi-brother over him, and that somehow translate into huge gains for Peter Sam. It never occurred to Sir Handel that, no, that's not how Peter Sam came up in the world, again he was just doing truly good work.

He and Sir Handel still tease each other, playfully, and their friendship does incredibly well in the brief time the two are the only engines on the line when Skarloey leaves. And that was the state of affairs when the two engines received buffers, and Sir Handel, irked by clearing-out operations at the slate quarry and the arrival of an orange diesel, feigned illness on a certain galloping blue sausage's advice...

[anonymousboxcar]

TTTE Headcanon: Edward the Audiobook Narrator (+ Bill, Ben, and BoCo)

From what I’ve seen of Edward, it seems like he’s fond of telling stories, both about the island’s history and about stuff he’s made up. As a result, I like to think that not only the Thin Clergyman turns to him as a resource for his books.

One company wants to publish an audiobook collection of stories that originated on/surround Sodor’s railways. It’s a deal that’s arranged with the Fat Controller and the NWR board of directors, giving the NWR hefty royalties so long as it gives them exclusive rights to consult their employees — including the engines.

Edward soon becomes one of the most popular engines to consult. Aside from his sheer repertoire of stories, it’s clear he has a knack for narration and voice work. He’s also very happy to share his tales with new audiences.

There’s only one issue. Or rather, two issues disguising themselves as one underneath a shiny, obnoxious yellow trench coat.

Bill and Ben take a great deal of joy in interrupting Edward’s first recording session. They whistle at inopportune moments, commentate on story events like newscasters, and wind up the person holding the tape recorder until they blow their stack.

Edward tells them off each time. When a stern “knock it off” doesn’t work, he says that they’re wasting tapes every time they make a racket, which means more money and time down the drain.

Bill blinks. “You really care about this, don’t you?”

“You know how I like my stories. And some of them were told to me by engines that aren’t with us anymore, nor their railways. I’d like to make sure they live on in that way.”

“Oh.” Ben winces. “Sorry.”

Edward sighs, but smiles. “It’s alright. Just try to be quiet next time, please.”

That’s when a second issue emerges: Bill and Ben find it very difficult to stay quiet. They’re hyperaware of every little sound they make in the next recording attempt. They start to whisper to each other about the sounds, trying to alert each other, only for it to escalate into a furious shouting match.

While the person from the company steps out to take an aspirin, Bill flushes. “We really tried, Edward.”

“I tried. I don’t know what you were doing.”

“You—”

“I think,” Edward says, his brow furrowed, “something else might suit all of us much better.”

When they pick up again, Edward narrates like before. But this time, Bill and Ben supply sound effects. They rattle back and forth over their tracks. They whistle. They provide the raspy groans of ghosts, muttering nonsense words and cackling in equal measure.

Bill and Ben get very enthusiastic about it. Edward grins at each supplement from them. And the person from the company loves it, proclaiming at the end of the session that it lends a certain “charm and realism” to the recordings.

The company greenlights it for future recordings. As far as they’re concerned, it saves them the money and the time of editing in the sounds themselves.

With each new recording, Bill and Ben get better at it. They practice their sound effects in advance — first on their own, then in a “dress rehearsal” with Edward for an audience of BoCo. BoCo gives his feedback, helping to keep everything in line.

For example: “The screams are very atmospheric. But any louder, and the issue of my cab windows shattering might start up again.”

Sometimes BoCo also offers sound effects of his own, ones better suited to his diesel engine and different voice. His mimicry of the Fat Controller is eerily accurate, everyone agrees. It’s all he and Edward can do to keep Bill and Ben from using that for devious purposes.

Once they finish the recordings and the company edits them, the audiobook gets released on cassettes, CDs, etc. It’s a huge hit. Newspaper reviews reveal that Edward, Bill, Ben, and BoCo’s narrations are the favorites with the public and critics.

They all enjoy the experience so much that they continue to record narrations and sound effects for the company, all the way into the age of the Internet and streamed/downloadable audio. It’s fun and a bonding exercise of sorts for them!

[houseboatisland]

all right, asking formally—how did Sodor come to be the first place where engines broke from their psychological chains and started romancin'? who were the first daring souls to claim marriage for their own? (*whispers* and was it arthur and ryan?)

Oooh, am I excited to answer this!

Sodor’s always been a natural leader when it comes to what railwaymen call “shedside manner.” Shedside Manner, revolutionary last century but commonplace to us, can simply be defined as “respecting machines beyond their status as machinery.” The Fat Director, for example, was leaps and bounds ahead of his Mainland counterparts for visiting his engines face-to-face, and especially for talking to them about things unrelated to work. The bigwigs at the Furness Railway or LMS would never tell him to his face lest it soured business, but they saw him as out of his noggin for this.

Engine discipline, (which was Mainland management’s only concern for engines after work and physical maintenance,) traditionally was delegated to someone lower, like a yard foreman. It was expected of them to be cold and uncompromising, even if the punished engine had been in the right all along. Because yard foremen were far more likely to be sympathetic to engines they worked with daily than their superiors, they would themselves face punishment if they were too lenient with engines they were responsible for. In many ways, engines were viewed merely as horses which happened to speak the same language that their masters did. The Fat Director, who we all know was no saint, calculated that this approach would be “bad for the bottom line,” in that engines would mature to become groveling, completely unable to think for themselves if their humans failed, and more delicate, not less, for their humans to work with.

This introduction made short: Sodor was always leaps and bounds ahead of other railways out of one man’s desire to make a cohesive workplace first, and a pleasant workplace second. Culturally this became the standard for Sodor, and still is today after decades of normalization. The desire, the NEED to just legitimately respect engines, has grown to match its original purpose: the desire and need to have functional engines as a result of this respect.

So, as this mindset took root after The Fat Director’s instigation, so too the concept of Shedside Manner began to be interpreted from perspectives beyond “happy engines = functional engines.” The Fat Director, like virtually all other railway controllers and conservative pockets of enginemen, viewed all engines as aromantic, if not out of legitimate belief, but instead an aversion to the idea that engines could compute romance. The Thin Clergyman felt the same way, going so far as to take liberties as he wrote his famous stories, to not include snippets that could indicate otherwise. Only after his death, and the publication of the long-guarded interview transcripts he referred to when converting “raw information” into readable narrative, have we learned of this self-censorship.

Accordingly, many non-Sudrian readers have sadly been convinced of the same. (😔)

We’ll never know who the first non-married vehicle couple was, Sodor or elsewhere. But archival evidence in the form of locomotive logbooks, pioneered and considerably utilized by the Great Western Railway, confirm that engines have always been capable of such emotions. We know this because records dating as far back as the 1850s reveal punishment of engines for pursuing relationships, and their humans documented this with palpable, dripping disgust.

“ Locomotives ‘Stewart’ and ‘Pollux’ are to be separated at the first convenience, and punished with Two Weeks’ Disuse alike. Such ‘magnetism’ between two Man Made objects will surely embarrass the company, and any passenger, gentleman or layman unfortunate enough to bear witness to such scenes will surely be repelled. It defies Christiandom that these objects should pursue any fulfillment beyond the serving of Man. I am, etc....”

So, the phenomenon of locomotives romancing has always existed, much as many would prefer to deny the reality of it beyond private writings. The SECOND Fat Controller, Sir Bertram Hatt I, (A/N: my own take on Sir Charles,) was a much more compassionate, empathic, and frankly less erratic head of the railway compared to his father. He took what his father taught him about Shedside Manner to heart, and felt especially compelled to delve deeper into the concept as he watched events unfolding on the Mainland’s railways from afar. Mass branchline closures, the death and rebirth of narrow gauge, locomotives being scrapped decades before their time, locomotives who were fell out of favor as ‘non-standard’ and were built poorly as policy was in flux, and the obvious example of dieselisation. Any such traumas needed to be avoided for his own engines and workers at all cost, and if that was impossible, for such traumas to be blunted.

It was Sir Bertram Hatt I who was the first controller, or first board member of the NWR or NW Region at all for that matter, who recognized that engines had the ability and right to pursue companionship of this kind. Sodor, which had gone through devolution and been allowed its own Parliament by the Attlee Government in 1946, has since seen several pieces of legislation debated and passed regarding Machine’s Rights, including their rights to marriage in 1969. Several “unions” had already been maintained secretly between engines, carriages and so on for years past, but now were able to be validated in the eyes of the law.

The first “married” machines were Edward and BoCo that same year. Same-sex human couples were never formally criminalized on Sodor historically, and had been de facto recognized on the Island as a result, so this was a non-issue between engines. Although there were some minor grumblings from engines such as James and Donald who objected to a steam engine marrying a diesel, (gender again was no object to either of them,) these were quickly swept aside as BoCo increasingly ingratiated himself with the other engines.

To answer that last bit: Arthur and Ryan first began working together in 1995, when Ryan was moved up to Harwick. He was initially bought to help at the Tidmouth Hump Yard, but was too much of a pushover with the trucks, so now he’s that branchline’s main passenger engine, with Arthur handling the fish trains and other goods work. It only took a year of passing each other in stations and sharing a shed to realize they were sweet on one another. They waited until the winter of 1997, when the Fishing Season had well and truly slowed down, to have their wedding. They exchanged vows as their fires were dropped, and fell happily, excitedly asleep by the light of the ash heap <3

[houseboatisland]

Sodor During the Second World War

//

Sodor was never bombed during the Second World War, though naturally it still had blackouts, civil defense, etc. This puzzled military and civilian historians for decades, considering Sodor’s value as a target and how reachable it was for the Luftwaffe. We’ll learn why further within this post.

In the earliest months of hostilities, Sodor was a popular destination for evacuated British children either staying there or en route to Canada.

Sodor of course formed a Home Guard, and a handful of abandoned concrete pillbox posts are still to be found moldering away on the Island, especially on its eastern and southern coasts.

Nearly all standard gauge locomotives on the Island were painted flat black, with the initials “N. W.” This has NEVER been reused for historic weekends or reenactments because engines universally find it saddening and uncomfortable to wear. The main exemptions to this change were Toby, on the Arle Valley Tramway, and a few private locomotives running factory sidings. (A/N: The Arle Valley Tramway is my name for Toby’s Old Tramway, which I’ve broken from Awdry to place on Sodor. Toby’s never worked in East Anglia.)

The Island’s narrow gauge railways didn’t receive this change either. They were however, unlike the NWR, banned from night running, something they didn’t do much of anyhow.

The Skarloey Railway THRIVED during this period, after twenty-odd years of living hand to mouth. Its slate, which had stacked up unwanted on the wharf for years, was suddenly in high demand to repair bombed houses on The Mainland. Petrol rationing, rubber tire shortages and heavily cut bus services meant that those people beyond its small, loyal clientele flocked to use it in droves. Receipts for goods and mail carried, and tickets sold, visibly spike during these years on paper. Routinely, every coach and several swept-out slate wagons were pressed into service to handle the scores of passengers, and there was even hope of repairing Skarloey, who had been out of action for a few years. This sadly didn’t happen, and Rheneas, already running the line alone for all this time, handled this tremendous strain as best he could.

The Mid Sodor Railway, which unlike the Skarloey was considered essential to the war by the Government, thrived also. Its lead mines were expanded, and additional miners, including prisoners of war, were brought from The Mainland to get it done. Their passenger services and goods tonnages, like those on the Skarloey Railway, more than recovered as a result of the motoring situation.

I’m gonna break with Awdry and say no engines were ever loaned to help any of the narrow gauge railways at this time. It just seems so… off.

The STANDARD GAUGE railways, however, (again excluding Toby’s tramway, the AVT,) were awash with engines sourced from other regions as needed, and in the war’s closing years, War Department engines themselves. S160s, Austerity 2-8-0s and 2-10-0s, Austerity Saddletanks and Yankee Tanks were all to be found on the Island at some point or another. A few stayed on in peacetime among the many “unseen but there” engines within the system, some lasting only until the Fifties, and others right up to the present day. (This excludes one engine who would be an obvious example: Rosie, a Yankee tank and easily the most famous War Department engine on Sodor, only arrived in the Nineties.)

As can well be imagined, Sodor’s steelworks and similar industries also went into overdrive, and many of its factories, as elsewhere, were retooled for the war effort to make armaments, aircraft and so on. The Mid Sodor Railway’s own Works, famously, came under Government control again, as it had during the First World War, making shells. Crovan’s Gate, which also built several War Department locomotives, similarly was refitted to make tanks, Jeeps, artillery, aircraft etc. Tidmouth’s shipyards were also churning out battleships and freighters for immediate launch.

Sodor in my universe DOES have coal mines, another break from Awdry’s canon, and these were also in high gear for the war effort. Again, like the MSR’s lead mines, Mainlanders and prisoners of war both were shipped in to accomplish this.

Now, as to the question of why Sodor was never bombed. Historians had for years been baffled by this question. Apart from a few bombs lost at sea, in all likelihood meant for Barrow, why had Sodor been practically off limits? It was well within range of the Luftwaffe, and had scores of industrial sites and military installations to target. In the Seventies, it was unearthed and eventually confirmed that Hitler had spared Sodor deliberately. Like his own psychotic plan for Blackpool in England, he planned to tour Sodor and the many beauties it offered after he had won the war. Thankfully, this didn’t come to pass. Hitler lost the war, and did the one good thing a Nazi can do: die.

Several stations took to growing victory gardens. This included Maron, which continued the tradition after the war ended, and now uses the resulting tomatoes, lettuce, and carrots in its refreshment room salads.

As I’ve said on Twitter, a LOT happened on the Island of Sodor during the Second World War, but it was such a frightening and miserable time that the engines of the time have an unwritten law amongst themselves not to talk about it. Only Edward breaks this rule, and that’s to speak with human historians separate from other engines. As such, he’s been credited in numerous papers, books, and even official Sudrian Parliament history for his priceless testimony.

The Thin Clergyman had been planning a book, as child-friendly as could be managed, about the NWR during the Second World War. It was meant to be released in 1965, twenty years after the war’s end, but engines up and down the Island refused to allow their likenesses in the book. This was a unique situation of this kind. The Thin Clergyman of course couldn’t magic up a fake Sodor as a substitute, for it would be both obvious and insulting to the engines who had just declared their discomfort. The scrapped volume, which only had so much as the foreword written, was shelved indefinitely, and it was only at his death in 1997 that the book’s status as an idea for a book at all was revealed. The Thin Clergyman instead opted for a different, but still very important anniversary to write about in 1965: Skarloey’s and Rheneas’ hundredth birthdays.

I won’t go into details, but Sudrians did serve heroically in the war, a famous and canon example being the “Duke of Sodor,” who was killed in North Africa. The total number of Sudrians dead in action was a few thousand, which may seem small but on an Island as sparsely populated as Sodor was significant and all-encompassing. Their sacrifices can never be forgotten, nor can be the evils of those they fought. To do so would only enable it all again, and Sudrians, anti-fascist to the core, will never, ever let that happen.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

"Literary Agent Hypothesis" is honestly the best trope, bless Rev. Awdry for making it canon

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about how most of the RWS books are set during the year they were published (or sometimes the year before)… but then, those first six books. Y’know? The backdated ones?

In what has to be one of my most on-brand posts ever, please accept some lengthy “meta” headcanon I have about the early years of the RWS!

this is not at all compatible with my fics nor even with some of my other HCs because consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds mmkay?

1. The Thin Clergyman first visited Sodor during the latter years of WWII, because his children had been evacuated there. They had been made very comfortable and happy, so much so that, rather than merely sending for them, their parents made the trek to escort them home in person, after boarding for a short period at Tidmouth, in order to see the people and places that their children had written them of, and to thank them.

2. The Thin Clergyman had, of course, always been an engine enthusiast, and he was very taken by Thomas’s branch line, and later the Harbor Station. Throughout the country, many engines and automobiles had gone numb and silent, their smokeboxes blank and black, due to the hard labors and scant comforts of the war. One reason Sodor would become a destination for families in the coming years would be the generation of evacuee children who went home but did not forget the Sodor engines—for some of them, they were the last “living” engines they saw for years.

3. Wilbert Awdry first met Topham Hatt I when, on what seemed a quiet hour, he rapped on the door of his office, curious to know if it was as simple as this to see the Fat Director in person, and ready to offer him his commendations on what a fine railway he was running.

He found the great man, awash to his elbows in papers and his blood pressure roughly in the stratosphere, cursing a (North Western) blue streak over the phone!

Between Hatt’s calls and his barking for various people through the window, Awdry got through about a quarter of his planned speech. Then Hatt snapped that, if he were capable of handling correspondence, the reverend could offer his thanks in a more practical way by addressing *vague but violent gesture* that pile, which all required a politic and gracious ‘no’. As for Hatt’s usual secretary, she had been drafted to stand in for the flagman in the yard! And his assistants were out firing engines on the line! And Hatt was losing his $%^& mind!

Awdry meekly sat down at the corner desk and spent five hours deciphering the secretary’s margin notes and drafting responses.

4. A year later, Awdry returned to Sodor with an appointment to see the Fat Director again. When he knocked, Hatt chuckled ruefully and said that, this time, he was at Rev Awdry’s service.

5. Nevertheless, Hatt was a little sceptical when first presented with notes and sketches of how Gordon’s hill got its name, both Henry’s tunnel misadventures, a few Ffarquhar stories, Percy’s scarf, a story of Thomas and Edward’s from “the old days,” and (so rumored) a couple more stories involving engines that never did make the series.

Most of these stories depicted more-or-less embarrassing moments that the Company had always worked hard to stamp out, not to publicize.

But Awdry had come prepared with an explanation about how that misguided approach to public relations would leave untapped a huge potential pool of middle- and working-class passengers, especially in an age where living engines would be rather rare. (Much of the engine population ‘returned’ to their smokeboxes postwar, but no one knew yet that this would happen.) Besides, Awdry had already discovered how to turn these moments of confusion and delay into morality tales that edified children even as they entertained—

Hatt had begun to envision the possibilities for himself, and largely tuned out the rest of the Thin Clergyman’s earnest lecture on the moral education of youths in an atomic-bomb world.

6. The island’s Board of Tourism had not required this much of a pitch. They were an easy sell, and started purchasing Awdry’s railway tickets for him once the first book was published to good success.

7. The N.W.R.’s Board of Directors did require lots of hand-holding. The new chairman, Albert Regaby’s successor—not his hand-picked successor, mind you—objected to the use of this free publicity to, as Awdry first proposed, tell stories from the building of the railway to the current day with the WWI-specific details airbrushed out, as Awdry had no interest in writing war tales. Who cared about the history of a dinky little island like Sodor? (As you might have guessed, this was an Englishman.) What was the point in endorsing materials featuring *makes a point of checking notes and then almost deliberately butchering or air-quoting the names* Thomas and Edward? No, if this was to be done at all, it should be as part of a marketing campaign centered around Gordon. Duh.

8. Awdry’s counter-offer of The Three Railway Engines was accepted. How the board was left with the impression that the engines in question would be Gordon, Henry, and James is a mystery… an enigma…

9. Please don’t look at Hatt… who had been shoehorning Edward into every promotional campaign the railway had run since 1931.

10. James knew what was going on. He played along with good grace, partly due to his better nature—and partly because he was promised a whole book to himself in future.

11. The Board did not offer the same resistance to Thomas the Tank Engine, as nationalisation was in the air, and there were local fears that the Ffarquhar line would get the axe.

Utterly forgetting that a mere three years ago they had flatly declared that they would not agree to let Awdry use any of their tank engines as characters, they actually asked Awdry to write as much about Thomas as he could, as quickly as he could. They asked nicely, too!

12.  The Wilbert books have stories that are all essentially true, but there are many details that were inaccurate, especially in books 1-6. Sometimes this was for convenience: For instance, Henry was not in fact freed from the tunnel in order to immediately steam up and pull a stranded Express. That would be madness. However, Henry was indeed left inside Ballahoo tunnel for several months during construction as a punishment for willfulness (and because he wasn’t proving much use when outside of it anyway), and there was a time when Henry and Edward took over the Express after Gordon burst a safety valve. Awdry combined the events into one story.

13. Some other examples of “grouping” together events that had happened separately or with large gaps:

Gordon did cover himself with embarrassment when he was switched onto a loop with the express immediately after some unadvised boasting, and James was on hand to snark about it. But James did not in fact single-handedly relieve a failed Gordon of the Express until 1929.

James had his wooden brakeblocks for quite a while. Thomas did retrieve him from a minor derailment early on, but James did not have his spectacular wreck that led to overhaul until he’d been on the island for a few years. (Thomas's 👏 promotion 👏 to 👏 branch 👏 line 👏 never 👏 had 👏 anything 👏 to 👏 do 👏 with 👏 heroism! God, that's the worst of the common TTTE takes...)

Hatt did ride-alongs with Henry and figured out that his firebox was too small way earlier than 1935. Henry was first given Welsh coal during the late ‘20s. The railway could no longer afford this expense in the belt-tightening early ‘30s, and indeed they were purchasing lower grades of coal even than their usual. The other engines could muddle along, but Henry couldn’t cope with such inferior stuff. The Flying Kipper wreck occurred only a few months after Henry was in Welsh coal and pulling his weight again; this had been after an unexpectedly successful summer season, and the coal had been bought in hopes that Henry would be able to cover for Gordon while Gordon was at Crovan’s Gate for a planned overhaul. (Henry’s wreck and rebuild put off Gordon’s own much-needed overhaul for a further three years.)

14. Finally, sometimes characterisations reflected them as they were when Awdry met them, in the 40s, but not as they were when the events actually happened.

Who are we talking about here?

Well, Hatt, mostly.

“The Sad Story of Henry” and “A Scarf for Percy,” which not coincidentally stick the most closely to the wording as Awdry heard it from an engine, offer a rather more accurate picture of Topham Hatt I as he was in the ‘20s and ‘30s than anything else in the books!

The Hatt that Awdry met (unfortunate first impression aside!) was an older, more matured, and less cocky man than the one Awdry’s new engine friends had known when they first arrived on Sodor. Hatt I had been a fierce and not exactly sentimental fellow, respected for his tenacity, but certainly not loved by anyone. People felt admiration, even gratitude... but good Lord, himself was a fat bastard, wasn't he? He hadn't been exactly cruel to his engines—not by the low standards of his day—but he had not been especially good to them, either… not until a couple decades of looking after the same lot. Not until the horrors of WWII had made him think that there may be more to life than engineering and business. Not until approaching the peak of his own career made him start to reflect about mortality and legacy.

But most of all, not until the Coffee Pots were scrapped.

Until that point, Hatt was quite ready to scrap engines that had served their purpose. Henry, for instance, had been given a narrow escape only due to the dual pressures of 1) Hatt much preferring the idea of a mended Henry than the idea of keeping ’86 and ’62, whom Hatt had decided were way more trouble than they were worth and 2) to scrap Henry would have been to admit defeat. For better or worse, Henry was notoriously Hatt’s purchase, and for the sake of his own reputation Hatt wanted Henry to succeed if at all possible. Hatt had also pushed through Edward’s overhaul in ‘31 in the face of considerable skepticism from the Board (the railway was doing Depression-era downsizing), but this was only because Edward had offered him considerable evidence that it was a good investment.

Not every engine had been able to make that case. ’86 was sold for scrap, and the W. & S. engines had been as well.

But Hatt hesitated a little with the Coffee Pots, who by the start of WWII were in terribly poor condition. He told himself that, after all, they were of some historical value. “Too busy” to deal with them just then, Hatt had them placed into store, with a promise that at least one of them would be restored and displayed after the fighting was done.

Behind his back, during a period where the War Department had summoned Hatt to the mainland, the acting manager had the Pots scrapped. He justified it as an act of patriotism, such metal being at a premium due to war shortages, and even as an act of friendship, sparring Hatt from a necessary but unpleasant duty.

No one, however, bothered mentioning this to Hatt. And immediately after the war, Hatt put off the duty of retrieving them still longer… he was still immensely busy, and then preparations had to be made for nationalisation, and trying to retain the region’s autonomy despite it…

Hatt did all this to resounding success and, immediately after being named Controller of the new region, he decided to celebrate by returning to his (and to the North Western's) roots, wakening the Pots, and making much of a restoration.

When he found out why this wouldn’t be possible, the guilt and the regret hit him like… well… a train.

A really heavy one.

He had already become a different man by that point, but he didn’t exactly realize it until this process of finding himself grieving his old creations with much more emotion than he would have thought possible.

Between his years shepherding the railway, the experience of the war, and this… Hatt’s values shifted quite a bit, after 1947.

15. Thus the firm but kindly Director/Controller that Awdry portrayed in his books was pretty accurate to how he observed Hatt interacting with the engines during Awdry’s time. But, uh. The harried man Awdry met that first day screaming obscenities into the speaker… that was a fair bit closer to how Hatt used to arrive on the scene after one of the engines’ not-so-cute mishaps!

16. (Not the Kipper. Hatt wasn’t quite as kind about it as portrayed in the book, but that was another case where the stakes were so high—and the carnage was so damn horrifying—that Hatt’s better self shone through. He did indeed tell Henry on the scene that he did not blame Henry, and told Henry to close his eyes and rest…)

17. Therefore the first time Hatt ever told one of his engines (all of whom left by this point, mind you, really were all kick-ass hard workers) he was proud of him was heading into the Christmas rush of '47. It was Thomas, who silently but promptly freaked out, as did every engine in earshot. Kind of the way Bob Cratchit did after the ghosts were done with Scrooge.

Hatt was really committed now to doing right by his engines, so they all got a fair bit more practice in hearing this.

18. The other character who was notably different as Awdry knew him than he’d been at the time of these early events was James.

The Thin Clergyman didn’t like James, and it’s hard to blame him. James suffered a great deal of trauma during the war, and he emerged from it raw, and trying to protect himself by a sharp and bitter tongue. He did say horrible put-downs to other engines, he did talk himself up at near all times, he was cruel about it. Lots of engines were getting scrapped after the war and James became mercilessly self-interested.

But that is not what James had been like when he arrived (and, after some healing, it wasn’t what he was like for the rest of his life). The Thin Clergyman, with some reluctance and a good deal of bafflement, fulfilled his promise to give James a book, relying on the accounts from the engines very faithfully, as well as accounts from some of the workers (James’s old fireman from that era was still around, and happy to talk). But the Thin Clergyman absolutely thought that, somehow, all those accounts of James were just deliberately scrubbing his personality. He went along with it, that’s all; he didn’t begin to realize until years later that perhaps there had been even a little truth to the picture everyone painted of a hasty, emotional, but very charming, determined, and sincere engine.

19. Henry didn’t go green again until his rebuild. He was still blue during the tender engines’ strike. The author, illustrator, and publishers all agreed to make him green again a book early due to readers’ confusion between him and Gordon. (Henry did have Gordon’s spare buffers, but that was for a couple of years post-war; once again, that was illustrated in the books as if it had happened in the ‘20s.) The N.W.R. directors, which had never really been on board with the storyline depicting “old” Henry, enthusiastically approved the change.

20. I’ve mentioned this somewhere else, but, similarly, Edward was still painted in his old railway’s colors until after the events of “Edward and Gordon.” This was not depicted for obvious reasons.

21. I don’t think I’ve discussed on my blog, but the engines did not have the numbering scheme that we now know until the beginning of 1949. At this point, British Railways conceded to the North Western Region the right to have their engines carry their own numbers, so long as a special plate was worn when the engines ran on metals beyond Barrow.

The North Western took the opportunity to re-do its numbering system, which had been a complete mess (thanks to just how fuzzy, and therefore how temporary, their definition of “ownership” could be!) As just one example of the sheer tomfoolery, Edward’s old number had just been carried over from the Furness, despite it being ludicrously higher than any other number in use on the N.W.R. at the time. Except, the paperwork had been incorrect, because the superintendent at the time was so confused as to which of the flock of borrowed and visiting engines they had actually purchased, so in fact Edward was left carrying the number of another Furness engine who had put in a good bit of time doing work for Sodor. Except, even if the superintendent meant that engine, he still got it wrong, for by 1920 that engine had been re-numbered by his owners anyway, and the superintendent had never even noticed the change.

Hatt sacked this chap within a month of being named managing director. If you’re wondering. But the numbering system was also kinda political, so it remained in all its baffling glory until '49.

22. Thomas had not officially been 1 prior to this year, but his loyal crew from Southampton had been proudly painting or chalking the number on Thomas’s side tanks in a ballsy attempt to claim it for decades. No amount of warnings, fines, or suspensions had ever deterred them for more than a year or two. And the fireman at least had the last laugh, for he lived to see the Board confirm their old bit of cheek!

23. But yes, when Troublesome Engines was published, the opportunity was taken at once to bring prospective passengers up to speed on the increasingly popular engines’ new numbers! So they were depicted in the illustrations, however anachronistically.

24. (In James’s case this aspect of the publicity campaign was unnecessary. He had arrived right after the previous #5, a W. and S. tank, had been scrapped, so his had ‘always’ been correct.)

25. Another note about the railway’s “modern” numbering system (as we may call it, for it has never been revised since): Slots 1-30 were reserved for engines due to appear in the railway’s now quite indispensable “books,” as well as other promotional campaigns. Only starting with #31 were the remaining engines simply numbered in order of arrival.

Of course, it actually took decades for those reserved slots to fill up… but that’s another story.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

blowing off steam

will probably go back into lurking mode for another day; bit busy over here

during my limited free time, I must confess that I’m unwinding by writing lil scenes about the Thin Clergyman poking around the main line (his wife and son have spent some time on Sodor as air-raid evacuees and he’s only recently been injured and joined them) and wondering if his son’s fascination with his new engine friends means he should write a children’s book 

it’s based on the Henry was just screwing with small children’s psyches with the tunnel story headcanon. well, at first small children, and now busybody English guests with too much time on their hands. 

i didn’t really mean it to be a thing, i’m just enjoying the flow. 

goes kind of like this: 

sth: you’re quite welcome to talk with the engines in the sheds. however, i must ask that you not badger them, much less to depict them in your art, if they do not wholeheartedly agree to be part of your project. 

awdry: *muttering* awfully considerate, for a tyrannical bastard who abuses frightened young engines 

sth: wut

awdry: wut

sth: you were saying somethin, there?

awdry: nope. nothin. 

sth: *muttering* bloody artists... 

- - - - - 

awdry: will you tell me the horrid story you told my small, impressionable child about you and the rain? 

henry: oh. of, of course. *eyes gordon* 

henry: erm, gordon... feel free to go somewhere else. 

gordon: not on your life, dear fellow

henry: wouldn’t want our chatting to disturb your beauty rest 

gordon: *aside* start talking, shakespeare 

- - - - -

gordon: *maintains an absolute granite poker face throughout the entire story in all its absurdity* 

gordon: tell him about how they sent little james to push you out. but of course he couldn’t do it 

henry: ah, yes! 

awdry: *on tenterhooks*

henry: uh, well... they sent little james to push me out. but of course he couldn’t do it

gordon: because he’s so little

henry: because he’s so little 

james: *just arriving* did i hear my name?

henry and gordon: no

- - - - -

edward: oh, i’d love to help, if i could. what kind of stories are you looking for? 

awdry: like james and his bootlace, or percy running away from the express, or henry and the tunnel

edward: ... excuse me. tunnel. wut. 

awdry: surely you know all about it! i know you were all at headquarters then. 

edward: ummmmmm. maybe i overslept that day.

edward: tell me everything

- - - - -

edward: *his poker face is not even one hundredth as good as gordon’s* 

awdry: *indignant* you know, i didn’t think that this tale was a comedy

edward: of course not, sir. *sobering completely somewhat* so what did the director do then? 

awdry: he bricked up the tunnel, front and back. left poor henry there in the tunnel a whole year, in the cold and dark. when he let him back out, henry Never Dared Disobey An Order Again—now, really! none of this travesty struck me as funny! 

edward: *in danger of laughing himself right off the track* 

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Are there any bits of RWS/TTTE lore that you don’t like or tend to retcon for your stuff? Personally I just can’t deal with Sir Handel being almost 20 years older than Peter Sam so I tend to headcanon his build date as also 1920 (to correspond when then-Corris No. 3 was rebuilt from the old Nos. 1 and 3) and Bulldog happened that year.

For me most of the fun is bending and twisting like a limboist to try to make alllll the RWS lore "work" in a way that is satisfying to me yet still plausibly canon. And throw in some show-canon, just for a lil' challenge. (I say "plausibly" because I throw around "unreliable narrator!!!1!" a lot. But I do offer an explanation for the discrepancies.)

That being said... oooh, that particular HC is tempting. Yeah, it's tough to imagine how the dynamics work with Sir Handel being so much older but then also he and Peter Sam just act so much like... twins, idk.

(But also consider: A tougher Sir Handel with a harder shell because he worked through the Great War, Peter Sam being this bright-eyed innocent thing that really has no concept of the world not always being sunshine and butterflies.)

I suppose despite my RWS preferences that I think of Rusty as nonbinary (although the Thin Clergyman may just not be privy to this or might not honor it).

Also, I ignore the Rev Awdry's insistence that there are no coal deposits on Sodor. Like... no. Just no.

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

The sledging between the engines is what makes it so great! Its a toxic workplace.... but with engines.

Is it just me or does some of Wilbert’s stories feel a little … mean spirited, lol?

Go on... 🤭