Traintober day 31: lights out
Diesel: how many steamies does it take to change a lightbulb?
Diesel: none, they’re so old that they still use gas lamps.
Thomas: how many diesels does it take to change a lightbulb?
Thomas: one to actually notice that the lightbulb is out, one to come up with an elaborate plan to steal all of us steamies lightbulbs, and then one to put it in.
Duck: how many great western engines does it take to change a lightbulb?
Duck: one, because they did it the Great Western Way ™
Gordon: how many express engines does it take to change a lightbulb?
Gordon: none because they were so fast that they changed it before the bulb actually went out.
Edward: how many China clay pit twins does it take to change a lightbulb?
Edward: neither one of them because they were too busy arguing over who should change it!
Bill: alright! We’ll change it in a minute!
Edward: you said that last year.
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uh oh having an unfortunate number of orb thoughts on the orbiversary:
just… the last time we saw Keyleth she was there, again, close, close to where it happened, close to him. on the same plane, for the first time in thirty years, for the first time since the wedding, for the first time since… except that’s not true is it. but does she know that? does she know that he’s always been close, that he’s done it before, does she know that everyone else knew that he would always always protect her, and that it could be used to damn the world and damn the very gods that keep them apart?
but that doesn’t matter anymore, right? not when he’s in an orb.
in pain, she knows he’s in pain. she knows she has to leave him there, in pain, until they can fix everything else, knows that once again for the sake of the world, she has to prioritize other things, has to leave him in pain and take up her mantle, her role, her responsibility.
he would understand, right? he’s always understood, he’d always been so proud of her, blossoming into a leader, supported her making the hard calls. it’s for the sake of the world. he would do the same, right?
(but no. no, he probably wouldn’t. not if it meant her in pain. that’s why this happened in the first place. he had to save her.)
but she will get him out, as soon as she possibly can, she will finally get to do what her very soul aches to and go to him and set things right and put him back, back where he’s supposed to be. (though not fully supposed to be, of course. he’s supposed to be with her, he’s supposed to be… well, that’s an old hurt, scarred over, something to ache about later)
but there will be a moment won’t there? when she sets him free.
(how? what does she have to do? why was this even done beyond to torment her, to taunt her, to wave him in front of her and snatch him away again, to prove to her that it could always be worse? how is she going to get him out of there? how did she not see this coming? how was she so helpless? how did she let this happen to him?)
she’ll get him out, de-orb him, and there will be a moment, right? maybe? when she gets to see him. really see him. not just a straining glance up from the ground as he bends reality to save her. no. there will be a moment of looking him in the eyes, the same place, the same time, being together, close to him, for just a moment, before the world remembers the way it is, before it separates them once again.
you save me I save you, she’ll convey somehow. always a two way street. you protecting your plane. me protecting mine. meet me in the middle, when the edges bleed, please, even if it hurts again, even if it almost kills us. you know i’m in love with you, right?
(he’s in so much pain. will it still echo in him in that moment, their moment, any time for reunion lost to the aftershocks. will he still be half a ghost, that strange slower shade of him from the wedding. not that it matters, it’s still him, it’s still him, it’s still him, she knows. any of him, any second will be enough.)
i’m sorry, is maybe what she’ll say instead. i’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. sorry it hurt so much. sorry they used me against you. sorry it’s never enough.
there’s nothing to forgive, he’d say. she said once. they love a callback, they love to echo, don’t they? (what do they have left but echoes?)
or maybe she’ll say nothing. maybe she’ll just stare, rebrand him in her eyes, onto her soul (it’s been so long, sometimes she has to stare at Vex to remember the shape of his nose) maybe she’ll just look at him and let him ruin her again for anyone or anything else, get her fill for another few decades of waiting (hoping) for something like this to happen again no matter how much it hurts both of them. (it was always going to hurt this much.)
she compartmentalizes, holds that future moment in its own little corner of her mind, but holds it close, thrumming under her skin, a north star, an engine churning. it’ll all be worth it, if she can just get there.
(and maybe, maybe if she’s good enough, if she fixes enough, if she’s strong enough, maybe a miracle is waiting for her there)
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