#coppernob

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Does Coppernob know that a Furness Engine that is labeled as preserved is actually buried in a mine? That must be as or more horrifying that being in a glass box.

Look, even in greenhouse days Coppernob has one of the most comfortable possible situations for a superannuated engine. He wouldn't ever claim otherwise.

They all know about poor 115. It was an awful affair. Definitely killed off any remaining vestiges of idealism the Copper-Nobs had about their directors (or THE Director), that's for sure.

That said, the other Furness engines have chosen to believe the company line that 115 is really truly out cold, never again to be conscious. Mainly because there's nothing they can do and the alternative is too horrid to contemplate.

I think it's probable, myself. Just like I believe Duke really did manage to sleep through much of his shed time. Engine sentience eventually goes offline, as it were, when they're unwanted for long enough. A hundred and thirty years will definitely do it.

(The way that F.R. 115 is listed as 'preserved' is so darkly comic, especially in a universe where engines are sapient, that I am sure that Coppernob actually has something to do with this persistent terminology. Like it's a Statement about the implications of all preservation.)

[putuponpercy]

Having a lot of thoughts about this engine again

[tornadoyoungiron]

Look at this asshole stealing all the parking spots.

[thesudrianchronicles]

NWC 7: Finally! An Atlantic!

Written By NorthBritishAtlantic

1929

An engine coasted down the Cumbrian Coast Line along the West Coast of England. He seemed to move majestically, his motion hardly making any sound. Like a phantom in the mid morning sun.

As he passed through smaller stations with names such as “Parton”, “St Bees” & “Seascale”, he noticed people on the platform & even some engines looking on at him in awe & surprise.

For you see. This engine was very far from home. For he was a North British Atlantic.

And he had said goodbye to Scotland, for a new life on a small Island, which many people said was in the middle of Nowhere.

Soon, he arrived at a large looking station. Its overall roof covering its platforms. He saw a sign which read “BARROW CENTRAL”, in big bold letters. He pulled up to the platform & his crew got out of his cab.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes Sam.” His driver said.

“Don’t wander off now!” His fireman added, before the driver slapped his arm. Which made Sam chuckle.

The two humans left their Atlantic with his thoughts. He looked around his surroundings. It was a quiet Sunday morning, and there weren't any trains due for an hour or two. So he had the station all to himself.

Or so he thought.

“HEY!” A voice called from behind, causing the Atlantic to jump. “What you doing in my platform?”, “Sitting there like Lord Mutt.” “I’ve got a station to run ya know?!”

Sam looked to his right. Sitting on the track next to him, was a tank engine. Her black paint was bright but dirty. And the letters “LMS'' were in big bold yellow lettering on her sidetanks.

“Well?” She said, eyeing up the larger engine. “Do you say anything?”, “Or do you just sit around & look like an idiot?”

“That’s enough Poppet.” An older voice called. “Leave Him be, even if he is sitting on the mainline taking up space.”

Sam looked over to his left. He saw an older looking engine sitting inside a glass box next to the platform. He had 4 small wheels, a tall thin funnel, and most notably, he had a large round copper firebox.

“The name’s Sam.” The Atlantic spoke, “And you two are?”

“I’m Coppernob”, the old engine said, “And the tank engine next to you is Poppet.”

“What’s an LNER engine doing all the way down here?” asked Poppet, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

“Heading to Sodor”, Sam replied, “NWR needs an engine for local passenger work. So I’m going there to stay.”

“Why you staying?”, Asked Poppet curiously. “Wouldn’t your frien-”

“If I stay I'll end up scrapped.” replied Sam bluntly, cutting Poppet off mind sentence. “My class is on the way out, it's only a matter of time before I’m withdrawn.”

“Don’t worry about it mate.” Poppet said, understandingly. “I’m on borrowed time myself.” “Most of the older Furness engines are being withdrawn as of late.”

“But you at least still have work.” Said Coppernob, “A hard working engine is a useful one.”

Sam sighed. Thank you Coppernob, he smiled slightly.

Poppet chuckled. "Just call him Nobby!" "Everyone else does!"

Coppernob rolled his eyes. Poppet just laughed, and Sam smirked.

“Alright then! Nobby it is!” Sam chuckled.

“So Sam.” Coppernob asked, making the other two stop chuckling. His facial expression was blank. “Have you travelled far?”

“Aye, a wee bit.” Sam said, his gaze returning to the older engine. “Perth, you heard of it?”

“Perth?” Poppet said, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a part of Glasgow?”

The look that Sam threw at Poppet made her shut up instantly & made Coppernob burst out laughing.

The three engines would continue to talk for about 15 more minutes. Nobby & Poppet were telling Sam about one of the old FR’s busiest & most interesting tourist days back in the spring of 1919.

Just as Coppernob was telling Sam about his rather, as he put it, “interesting” experience with a young fireman. Sam’s crew arrived back & came up to see him.”

“Awwww Sam!” His Driver chuckled, putting her jacket back on. “Looks like you made some friends already!”

“Yeah, good on you lad.” His fireman added, trying to hide the obvious lipstick marks on his neck.

“Well come on then!” His driver said, climbing into his cab. “Sodor awaits us!”

“Well goodbye you two.” Said Sam, “I’ll try & visit as much as i can.” “If this all works out that is!” He added chuckling.

“Bye Sam!” “See you around!” Poppet called as Sam drove off.

Sam blew his whistle loudly in goodbye. It echoed around the yard, and startled some of the engines in the shed! He picked up some speed, as he chuffed over the bridge to await his new life.

On the isle of Nowhere.

30 Minutes later

“FINALLY!” a stout gentleman nearly yelled from the platform. “FINALLY I GOT AN ATLANTIC!”

Special thanks to @mean-scarlet-deceiver for letting me use Nobby & Poppet for this story.

[feigeroman]

My NRM Visit

The other day, me and my mum embarked on a grand adventure to the National Railway Museum. Having previously tried and failed to visit on two previous occasions, we naturally made the most of our day there. I in particular took many, many photos, and there now follows but a small sample of these:

It wouldn’t be a Tumblr post without a crab, and so we start with an LMS Crab 2-6-0 - this is in fact the first of the class, LMS #13000 (later #2700).

LMS Royal Saloon #799. Originally built in 1941 as an armoured saloon for the Queen Mother, who used it to travel around the country to boost morale during the War. This saloon was used by the Royal Family right up until 1977, when the present royal train came into service.

GNR J13 0-6-0ST #1247. This was the first steam engine ever to be privately purchased direct from British Railways, in 1959. Mum for scale.

Waterloo Station 1967 by Terence Cuneo. Exactly what it says on the tin. As with all of Cuneo’s paintings, this one is crammed with all sorts of little details and cameos (including his trademark mouse, who is sitting on top of the Johnnie Walker advert to the right).

SECR D Class 4-4-0, #737. Not a whole lot to say about this one that hasn’t been said already. I just included it here to provide context for the next photo. Speaking of which:

Pullman coach Topaz, with whom #737 currently shares exhibition space. Rather than the traditional chocolate-and-cream, this Pullman carries its original crimson livery, which seems to have been the inspiration for that worn by the Pullmans seen in Thomas.

BR (SR) Merchant Navy 4-6-2 #35029, Ellerman Lines. As you can see, she’s been cut in half to more easily demonstrate how a steam locomotive works. Which is pretty neat, even if it does make for a rather grisly spectacle.

Furness #3 0-4-0, Coppernob. Also known as that engine who used to be on display in Barrow-In-Furness, and still carries literal battle scars from a 1941 air raid on that town. Also also known as Nobby, if you’re @mean-scarlet-deceiver​ or any of their followers.

LNER A4 4-6-2 #4468, Mallard. I couldn’t not take a photo of the world’s fastest steam engine (whose 126mph record was quantified by the dynamometer car just visible in the background).

And finally, the little blue bugger himself - specifically an RG Mitchells kiddie ride from about 1994.

[askyoungiron]

hey Scott? what do you think of ol nobby?

Scotsman: Nobby, dear sweet old Coppernob! The fantastic little Furness.

You know, I've seen Truro go off on misbehaving engines before, especially other Great Westerns, it's not pretty but Truro still has restraint and doesn't really get nasty even when he's furious. He's still polite about dressing down an engine. He never insults them or gets snarky, it just not his thing. He wants to keep up appearances, the polite and gentleman leader of the GWR.

Coppernob on the otherhand 👀 it's fun to watch him dress down someone (not just engines, humans too) so long as it isn't you. He simply does not give a single care about what others think of him and I respect the hell out of that.

I've seen a few engines try and bait him but old man is too damn smart and quick witted. I know a few of the humans working around the museum try to avoid him like a armed grenade. He's very polarising of a person, you either like him or you don't.

Personally I like him, he's like the Chaos God of the National Railway Musuem.

[toast-com]

After reading "A Hole in the Net," and "Oop North," I've gotta commend @mean-scarlet-deceiver. I love Coppernob, he's really funny. And I also like the other unnamed engines, they all are bursting with personality. I also liked the foreign engine. (I read his lines in Duck's voice lol)

I might draw fanart of my faves, definitely Coppernob.

[mechanisedsandcastle]

She copper on my nob til I Furness.

[houseboatisland]

Coppernob: What was Brother baking, just then?

Poppet: Cooking, Nobby.

Coppernob: Credit where it’s due, youngster.

[eosr-by-muxse]

Rhys

🩷 Autumn 1899; December 1968

CW/TW: Pre-transition period (Edward), hostile work environment, gaslighting, mentioned character death, mentioned workplace violence

Buckled Tracks and Bumpy Trucks - Season 20 Episode 17 (edited)

Word Count: 1,823

Someone else was his first love interest.

A/N: "Rhys" is pronounced "reese." I didn't come up with that, btw. His crew did.

~

In the chilly autumn weather, passengers walked about Barrow-in-Furness Station. The leaves cluttering the ground crunched as folks stepped on them, awaiting the next passenger train.

A sharp whistle, reminiscent of the squawks of seagulls flying by coast line, went off in the distance, pulling in the passengers’ attention to the Indian-red tender engine approaching. She steamed into the station with a range of blue coaches with white trim, easing to a stop.

She was a Class 21, a class of engines dedicated to express passenger services. The sunlight reflected against the brass trim of her splashers and brass dome, giving it a gleaming shine. The oldest of the Class 21s greeted the awaiting passengers with a warm smile, as steam gently spewed from her chassis.

The weather was nice that day. There was no wind. Just the gentle breeze against her frames. It was like a soothing touch, which she appreciated.

Coming in the opposite direction, a small four-driver tender engine came by, hauling a goods train for someone else to take care of. Once he blew his whistle, the eldest Larger Seagull groaned. She would be foolish to not recognize it.

“Guid day, Coppernob,” she greeted through clenched teeth, trying to sound as nice as possible. Her crew reminding her to be nice to the elderly engine had become a daily routine, despite how arrogant and bossy he was. She didn’t need to turn the scolding into a daily thing.

Coppernob wasn't taking her forced greeting. “Don't treat me like a fool, young engine!” he hissed. “Such disrespect. You're better than that.”

“I wid if ye'd just go awa’,” she grumbled, “and didnae go around, gossipin’ aboot me.”

“It’s for the well-being of others, Alice,” he reminded her as her crew hushed whispers, telling her to knock it off. “We can't have your reckless behavior ruin the reputation and workflow of the Furness.”

Alice scoffed. “It’s always aboot thaim wit’ ye.”

“Bunny!” hissed her driver.

Before Coppernob reprimanded her, a Furness Railway 7 class steamed up to the platform adjacent to Alice’s. Unlike Coppernob, he had splashers, designed in a style similar to hers.

“Good day, you two,” he greeted. “Anything new I missed?”

“Nah! Nah!” Alice squawked out, immediately blushing out of embarrassment from the slip-up. She ignored the piercing glare from FR No. 3. “Nawthing new, Rhys.”

Rhys hummed, not convinced. A Furness engine would have to be a fool to not notice the conversation from kilometers away. And not to notice how furious the glare directed towards him was. However, he chose not to poke any further. Yet.

Alice’s guard blew his whistle, interrupting the thoughts going through the engines’ minds.

“Och!” she perked up. “Thon’s me. Guid-bye, Rhys!” With a quick whistle that resounded throughout the station, Alice departed from Barrow-in-Furness, heading north on her railway line, the Cumbrian Coast Line.

Once she was gone, Rhys sighed before glancing at Coppernob. “What is it you have against me?”

Coppernob didn't respond. Instead, he stormed off, leaving the other confused.

…

About a week later, Alice and Rhys met again but at Roose Station. The latter had finished telling a story that left Alice squawking.

There was just something about spending time with Rhys that comforted Alice, making her feel warm and appreciated. It was different to the way her sisters would comfort or check up on her every evening, especially if she’d had to defend one of them from one of the other Furness engines.

It was different, yet she couldn’t figure it out.

As she calmed down, a saddle tank engine pulled in, hauling a small freight train of steel rails, coming from the Barrow Haematite Steelworks.

“Diane!” exclaimed Rhys, noticing the black tank engine. “How’s the Steelworks going for you?”

Diane gave a quick smile to Alice, who smiled nervously, before replying. “Exhausting!” she exclaimed. “But it's good work!”

“Good to hear, dear! Good to hear!”

“You know, I’m surprised the old horse hasn't tried physically separating you both,” Diane noted. “He complains about you two whenever he runs out of things to whine about.”

Alice hummed, her freckled face crunching at the mention of Coppernob. “I din’ get why he diz’nae want me near Rhys. He diz’nae make sense aboot it.”

“Remember, dear,” Rhys assured. “He just… wants the best for you.”

The Larger Seagull frowned.“Well, he huz a funny way o’ showin’ it.”

Just then, her guard blew his whistle. With a heavy sigh, she bid farewell to the other two engines and promptly left.

Once she was gone, Diane shot a glare at Rhys. “Have you told her?”

The 7 class winced.

“Rhys!” she scolded.

“I know! I just-” He took a deep breath. “It’s too soon. We don't know when.”

“But it’ll be soon, Rhys!”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow, I promise!”

“You better!” she exclaimed before steaming off to Ravenglass, leaving her friend to go his way with the daunting thoughts in his head. His crew tried to soothe him, but it only made him feel more guilty.

…

“Alice! Stay away from that engine!”

Her safety valve was ready to burst. Earlier that morning, she fended off one of the Seagulls, her predecessors, up at Foxfield after seeing them pester one of her baby sisters. The utter annoyance those older engines could be.

And then they wonder why they could’nae get me and ma sisters tae ‘behave’ being the thought to go rampant in her mind after every confrontation.

“Bug’ aff! I'm no’ dealin’ wit’ ye today!” yelled Alice before storming off.

Coppernob chased her down. “Listen to me, young lass-!”

“Shut it!” she screamed. “Yer raps ma knittin’!”

“Watch your tongue-!”

“Or whit?” she taunted. “Whit'r ye goin’ tae dae? I'm no’ afraid o’ ye!”

“I want you to get away from that engine…” hissed Number 3, the words seething like painfully hot steam. “And you will do it as soon as you see him.”

“Ye cannae control me!” Alice argued. “Why is it thon when I’m finally doin’ better, it’s all wrong?”

“It wouldn't be wrong if you weren’t acting like that with him!”

Still furious, she looked at him confused. “Like whit? Whit’re ye implying?” she questioned.

Coppernob stared at her in horror, eyes going wide.

The look brought tension to Alice’s frame. “Copper-?”

“You can't even see it, can you?”

“See whit-?”

“You’re too far gone,” he mourned.

“Excuse me-?”

“Stay away from Rhys,” he hissed. “I don't want to find out that he’s broken the same way you are.” With that, he steamed away, returning to his work leaving a stunned Bunny behind.

“Broken…?”

…

That evening, Alice returned to her shed, only to find Rhys, resting in a siding. His crew were smoking cigarettes, unaware of the larger engine. Coppernob’s words had stung her to the core. She spaced out momentarily when Rhys called out for her.

“Alice! There you are,” he hollered, alerting his crew. They quickly climbed aboard into his cab. “Listen. I-”

“Am I broken?”

“...Pardon?”

“Am I broken, Rhys?” she asked again, looking Rhys straight into his eyes. “Coppernob said I’m broken.”

“What-?” He was dumbfounded as he approached the young Victorian engine. “No, of course not, Alice! Don't listen to Coppernob. His age is getting to him,” he reassured her.

“Okay…” was all she said before letting the silence overtake.

Her mood upset Rhys, making him rethink his choice. Should he? He didn't want to upset the young engine even further, but she needed to know.

It would be worse if she went about her life, not knowing what happened to her dear friend.

“Did… ye want tae say somethin’?” asked Alice after a while of silence. “Sorry if I-”

“I'm being withdrawn.”

Bronze pupils shrunk as her eyes went wide. “Ye're what-?”

“I'm being withdrawn, Alice. I don't know exactly when… but it might be soon,” he stated, carefully wording his sentences.

“Soon? How long have you known?”

“Alice-”

“How. Long?” she asked sternly. Her eyes burned in frustration and despair.

Rhys sighed with guilt. “A month.”

“And you didn't tell me?”

“I don't want to break you.”

“Break me?” she scoffed, offended as tears brewed up and her voice began to crack. “I'm not fragile, Rhys!”

“But you're still growing out of your old behavior!” he exasperated as both crews held onto the brakes of their respective engines. Alice’s crew held extra tight, making sure they didn’t let go as their engine tended to be hostile, especially out of emotion. “Alice, please promise me you won't go back to your old self.”

“Rhys-!”

“Alice, please,” he begged. “Please, do it for your sisters. For Diane. For me. The board isn't going to tolerate it any further, and you know that.”

At the mention of her little sisters, Alice agreed. “I promise, Rhys,” she sobbed. “I promise.”

…

“I hope ye're happy,” Alice sneered. It was the following morning and she’d come across Coppernob at Barrow-in-Furness once again.

“What?” scoffed Coppernob.

“Rhys is bein’ withdrawn.”

Shock went through the older engine's frames. “Whatever for?”

“I dinnae ken. Go ask him yerself,” she sneered.

“Alice!”

“Dae me a favor and boil yer smokebox,” she hissed before storming off, jerking the coaches by accident. The sentient ones yelped and her passengers were startled as her crew scolded her severely, and Coppernob called out for her.

She blocked out the sounds of the world around her as her four driving wheels pushed her north towards Foxfield.

.

.

.

Later that week, Rhys was withdrawn. He was able to bid farewell to Diane but not Alice. Diane was the one to break the news to Alice.

Alice broke her promise.

And Edward made a realization.

Rhys, I’m so-

“Edward?”

Said engine jerked, accidentally jostling his trucks.

A few days had passed since he left the Steamworks with his pistons fully repaired. He’d spent a week waiting for the parts to arrive.

“Did you even hear what I was saying?” James asked again, concerned as the extra Troublesome Trucks Edward hauled yelped and complained.

“Guidness, naw,” Edward replied, guilt building on his panic. His freckled cheeks burned. “Och, dear. I’m sae sorry-!”

“Are you okay?” James interrupted. “You spaced out for a bit.”

“Er, somewhit?”

“We can stop-”

“Naw, naw!” he exclaimed. “No need to! It's just- You reminded me of something.”

“Something you'll tell me?” James asked with a glimmer of curiosity in his heterochromatic eyes.

“N-No’ today…” He looked down. “Sorry.”

“Oh…”

“B-But-!” Edward stammered, “what about your adventures on the Mainland, hm?”

“You're gonna have to be more specific, Ed,” chuckled James.

The smaller engine pieced together what he could recall from the conversation that had taken place. “That incident with the twins! Up in Whitehaven?”

James winced playfully. “Oh, what a mess that one was-”

As James continued to ramble on, Edward's mind focused in. But not after he processed what he'd realized.

I wis in love wit’ Rhys, and I didnae even ken…

~

AND then his twin baby sisters were built the following year and things are all good again, right...?

...right? :)

Well damn, i guess I did end up writing a story before the 1910s ovo ANYWAYS, first EoSR story of 2024 and it ended up being a ship-verse story but its angst-

very normal muxse behaviour

i got to actually sit down and work on Edward's backstory a little more. It was EXTREMELY vague before so hopefully this starts adding up, especially for "You've Got Mail." (i'm a bit all over the place with my fics)

Being the oldest of a new generation is already a lot of pressure but how would it feel when its tradition for them to try to shape you in a way that is deemed appropriate in your railway. This usually works but Edward was different.

Notes:

Rhys had zero romantic interest in Edward.

Rhys' basis: 16 - FR Class A3 0-4-0 - built 1858 by W. Fairbairn & Co., Manchester - 1899 withdrawn

Introduced Diane (FR 17 "A5" class) and Old Coppernob (FR 3 "A2" class) sooner than I thought ovo Oh well.

The family relations on the Furness are a bit odd because the A2, A3, and A5 don't have a specific designer, just like the K2s. Just know that Edward isn't related to them. To my understanding, the Furness Railway 21s were designed by Sharp, Stewart & Co. Neither Pettigrew or Mason designed them. Same goes for said classes. Only the A5s were built by Sharp, Stewart & Co. but in the original Manchester location.

^ that being said, Diane and Edward are probably distant cousins for that reason, but Old Coppernob and Rhys aren't related to them. :p

Rhys translates to "ardor" in Welsh. Ardor means a strong intense feeling, which i think perfectly describes what engines feel when they're in love. :)

there was a lot of back and forth on previous love interests for these two. at one point, i considered Goldilocks to be James' first love interest but went against because i just thought it was weird and it would imply that Edward is a replacement for Goldilocks. I did not want that so i scrapped it.

Edward and Old Coppernob are basically the failed unintentional attempt of a healthy father-son relationship. They're both at fault for this. (yes, Edward has daddy issues. it just kinda happened but it also feels like it makes sense considering his role as the oldest and the issues he has)

guys i dont JUST write angst, i swear- :((((

evidence:

ps if i made you sad, read "He Squawks!" (one of my favorites /bias) it has pre-2x5 fluff + silliness (not the main focus but the silliness is :p the screenshot is unrelated :p)

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

I had a thought. In the shower. A shower thought you might say.

What would happen if Nobby saw a replica coppernob running beside 20?

He'd immediately have someone get the FRT on the phone so that he could browbeat somebody over the way there's a goddamn running replica out there while No 25 is on his thirty-odd patient year of waiting for his own restoration.

[putuponpercy]

absolute yelling at the model coppernob I saw today that thing was cat sized I repeat cat sized coppernob

[theflyingkipper]

Even when cold and silent iron, a steam engine can be plenty intimidating

[sparkarrestor]

Uh oh

Context: In 1966 D5714 was having its steam-heating boiler tested when flames shot out of it’s exhaust and set Barrow Shed’s roof on fire. Half the roof was lost but the loco itself was actually fairly unscathed. Somehow.

[askyoungiron]

FUCKING GO EDWARD GET HIM GET COPPERNOB!!

EDWARD: Well, I have been sitting on my feelings for well over a hundred years. Sorry if myself being angry was a bit much for anyone.

GREEN ARROW: No it was beautiful. You’re beautiful Edward 🥹

[jobey-wan-kenobi]

"I don't know what I'd do without Leslie, especially just now when Gilbert is so busy. He's hardly ever home except for a few hours in the wee sma's. He's really working himself to death. So many of the over-harbor people send for him now."

"They might better be content with their own doctor," said Miss Cornelia. "Thought to be sure I can't blame them, for he's a Methodist. Ever since Dr. Blythe brought Mrs. Allonby round folks think he can raise the dead. I believe Dr. Dave is a mite jealous—just like a man. He thinks Dr. Blythe has too many new-fangled notions! 'Well,' I says to him, 'it was a new-fangled notion saved Rhoda Allonby. If YOU'D been attending her she'd have died, and had a tombstone saying it had pleased God to take her away.' Oh, I DO like to speak my mind to Dr. Dave! He's bossed the Glen for years, and he thinks he's forgotten more than other people ever knew."

— Anne's House of Dreams