#ttte ernest

[duskstargazer]

[1963]

“It was that coach, sir,” blustered Lord Harry. “She never-”

“No tales.” Mr. Richards interrupted, his graying brow locked in a stern glare. “The derailment today was your fault, and you know it. You upset our passengers, compromised the trackwork, and damaged yourself by being a swanky little twerp and taking risks. I will not have such carelessness on my railway.”

“But sir-”

“One more word of excuses from you, Number 6, and I’ll have whatever’s left of your wheels and running motion stripped off and given to Dooiney!”

A long silence hung in the yard.

“N-number 6?” The red engine finally asked.

“Yes. Number 6. The workers are going to take off your nameplates first thing in the morning - after they’ve finished cleaning up the mess you made.”

“You- you can’t!”

“You forget. You are an engine on my railway.” Mr. Richards aggressively pointed his cane between the engine’s eyes. “I gave you that name, I can sure as hell take it away. Maybe it’ll take this foolish attitude with it.” He sighed, and strode away, producing a lighter and a cigarette from his waistcoat as he went.

Silence once again reclaimed the mountain railway.

“Perhaps,” Ernest said, at last, “it’s time we told you why our railway lacks a number 1.”

[transfem-edward]

*looks at Ernest with murderous intent*

Have you ever heard the trem "lit"?

ernest: haha, your threats honestly just mean nothing to me. but i appreciate the attempt.

[supersmashsoni]

Dear Friends: The wilderness of Sodor is a mysterious place. Many legends about ghosts and other supernatural creatures exist. Eric thought they had spotted one of them once, which led to confusion for them and Ernest! -The Author

[dragons-and-magic]

This story is doing thing to my brain.👀✨

Traintober 2024: Day 23 - Beyond

What Lies Beyond Peel Godred:

Duke sat at the end of a works train, trying his best not to grumble at the boring task. The Mid Sodor was expanding beyond Peel Godred, planning on extending into the mineral-rich foothills of Culdee Fell and around to Kirk Machan, where the start of the railway’s new tourist attraction was taking shape. It was a mountain railway, one which would run right the way up to the peak of Culdee Fell.

Duke wasn’t sure if he liked either plan. His driver certainly didn’t. “It’s not right,” Duke’s driver muttered crossly as the steel rails stretched out beyond the walled city and curved down through the thick woodland towards the base of Culdee Fell. “We are trespassing on it’s land.” “On who’s land?” asked Duke curiously. “Lord Barrane owns the most land around here. Is this part not his?” Duke’s driver just shook his head. “No, no – they say something far older and wilder is the true owner of the lands around here. Anything beyond Peel Godred and to the North-East of Culdee Fell is its home, and it does not take kindly to outsiders.”

Duke thought his driver was being very odd indeed – but he still listened. His driver, after all, was a local to this part of the island. He often ducked back to the farm where he had been raised for lunch while Duke was at Peel Godred for a water break. If anyone knew the local legends and tales, it was Duke’s driver.

Part way between Peel Godred and the hamlet where the mountain railway was being built, a spur split off. It was being built by a mine, searching for minerals further around Culdee Fell. Duke’s driver called them insane; Duke was just thankful he didn’t have to go down the little line. It looked very rickety, as if the mining company had simply slapped down the track on the ground with no care at all.

Duke wondered how far off he was, considering how greedy some of those companies could be.

The mines owned a large tank engine named Freddie, who ran the works trains out towards the new construction site. Freddie was a pleasant sort, if not a tad too boastful for Duke. “Fastest in the hills!” Freddie would chirp every time he arrived ahead of schedule. “You should worry less about your speed and more about being careful,” Duke would warn him, but Freddie took no notice. Duke, remembering the fate of Albert, kept on trying to get through to the young engine, especially as the mining line grew closer and closer to rounding the base of Culdee Fell.

The workmen said odd things about the land out there. Apparently, no one lived out there, beyond the edge of Peel Godred. Not even a lonely goat herder made their living on the rocky slopes – it was just… nothing. There were animals of course – but even they seemed to cower in fear of the mountain itself, wary of the lands upon which the railway now intruded. Still, the work pressed on. Sometimes, Duke would even deliver supplies part way along the line, to where a camp had been set up.

Every time they did, his driver would recite something under his breath, speaking in the old Sudric tongue. “What is that… little thing you keep saying, every time we go near Culdee Fell?” asked Duke one day, curious about his driver’s odd little habit.

“It’s a prayer of protection,” replied the driver. “This is Fell-y-Deighan, after all.” Duke knew what that meant. “Driver, that can’t be,” Duke spluttered. “This is Culdee Fell.” “It’s both,” replied the driver darkly. “On the far side of Culdee Fell stands the Gob-y-Deighan. Stay far from there, or else it will come after you. The prayer keeps the devils away, and don’t you forget it!”  

Duke decided to trust in his driver, and asked to learn the little prayer that same evening. His driver was more than pleased to teach his engine the same protective prayer which he entrusted his own safety too.

Then, the new engines for the mountain railway began arriving. Engines two and three – Wilfred and Ernest – arrived together first. They were pleasant chaps, quiet and unassuming but with a good sense of humour. The end of the extension reached right to where their new railway was to be, and so Duke helped to unload them from the carts used to drag them up the valley. “It’s a lovely place!” grinned Wilfred. “Oh yes,” agreed Ernest. “The people are great here,” promised Duke. “Just… be careful up there. There are old legends which tell of how dangerous this mountain can be.”

Ernest and Wilfred heeded Duke’s warning, as did Culdee and Shane Dooiney when they arrived.

But it was the engine who arrived between these four – the line’s Number One – who stuck out to Duke. He was named for the ancient king of the island, Godred, and took to the name and its meaning like a duck to water. He grew very conceited very quickly.

Duke’s driver thought it very worrying, especially as opening day for the new Culdee Fell Railway loomed.

“He’ll anger it,” Duke’s driver hissed in the evenings. “Not even Thorfinn the Mighty attempted to explore that part of Sodor.” He sounded almost… fearful of what potentially lay hidden on that side of the island.

Just then, Freddie returned from his evening run. He looked oddly excited. “We just found the strangest thing!” he exclaimed. “You’ll never believe it!” “Oh?” quizzed Duke. “What did you find?” “There’s a giant boulder up behind Culdee Fell!” Duke’s driver went deathly pale. “It’s angered,” he gasped. “I won’t go up there again!” Freddie seemed confused by the outburst, and even more so when Duke’s driver practically sprinted away, muttering the prayer under his breath.

Duke wondered just what exactly the Boulder represented.

Weeks passed, and everything seemed normal. The Culdee Fell opened on time in a grand ceremony that was attended by thousands of people, all excited to climb the infamous Culdee Fell.

What struck Duke as strange though, as he picked up the passengers that afternoon, was that none of them mentioned a boulder. Considering how excited Freddie had been about the thing, he had half expected that the tourists and locals would have been able to see it from the summit.

“Didja miss the darn Boulder?” a voice snapped. Duke looked up, watching as Godred and Culdee got into yet another argument. The two were like oil and water – where Godred was conceited and difficult, Culdee was kind and cautious. Duke knew which he would have rather had working on his railway. Still, it was Godred talking about the Boulder, and not Culdee.

“No Godred, there was no boulder,” replied Culdee gruffly. “Now if you don’t mind, I want to go to my shed, and not listen to your irrational fantasies.” Godred just huffed indignantly. Duke sidled alongside.

“I’d be careful if I were you youngster,” he murmured. “That boulder is a bad omen.” “Pah!” exclaimed Godred. “Boulders aren’t omens and I’m named after the greatest king this sorry island ever had! Nothing will hurt me.”

Duke rolled his eyes, and puffed away.

It was only a month before Duke would be proven right. Godred was flung from the side of the mountain – no one ever knew how; people thought he must have hit a stone lodged in the rack system. But Duke feared that that was not the case. The little purple engine was barely a bucket of bolts and bits when the traction engine dragged him back to the sheds.

Godred was gone.

The line to Kirk Machan closed the next day – people were terrified, they didn’t want to go to the Culdee Fell Railway at all. They quickly ripped up the rails and took them away; they could be used elsewhere. Now, only Freddie went down that line. Duke continued to fret – the fearless engine was going beyond the end of the line every single day and bringing back tales of odd accidents happening all around the construction site. On some days it would be mild – candles blowing out, tools moving from one place to another – but on others it would be dynamite exploding on its own, destroying mineshafts before they could be reinforced. And every single time, Freddie just barely dodged the threat.

Duke tried to warn Freddie, but the little engine would hear none of it. “I’m too fast for anything to catch me,” grinned Freddie. “They call me fearless! Fearless Freddie, fastest in the hills!” “Fastest is not best,” reminded Duke sternly. Freddie just chortled.

And then Freddie was gone too. He’d left in the morning as usual, but didn’t return come nightfall. Duke watched as another mining engine was sent out to search for Freddie, and he watched as it came back with nothing.

“The miners are gone,” the engine gasped. “And so is Freddie, and all the rails, and the tools and dyna—” There was a massive explosion in the distance, so powerful it could be felt from the sheds at the bottom of the valley.

Duke feared that he knew exactly what had happened to Freddie. He hadn’t been able to outrun this particular threat.

Officially, the Mid Sodor Railway terminated at Peel Godred, in a little station just outside the city walls.

Duke knew better. Beyond Peel Godred, there was more to the Mid Sodor Railway, even if no one used it. Indeed, the section of line was half-buried under weeds and greenery, all but left to the whims of nature despite how young it was. It was nearly impossible to find the entrance to this abandoned section, as it was now bricked off with a goods shed stealing the original siding. But Duke knew it was there, knew that the navvies had been too terrified to go back and rip up the rest of the rails. He knew exactly where the track ended too, near an insignificant little wooden trestle bridge.

All Duke wished was to know what truly happened to Freddie that day.

Back to the Master Post

[ohjeeztrains]

Ernest is feeling pretty lonely during Maximus' 1472 day inspection

[traintrainingmontage]

[March Prompt Event related] HELLO >:3 CONGRATS ON YOUR 150 FOLLOWERS AND ALL THE WORK YOUVE GOT DONE SO FAR, TE!! For my prompt, Godred being visited by his CFR brothers one by one, after they discover that he is, in fact, alive [but not well]

THANK YOU, COLE!! 💖 I've been looking forward to doing this one for quite a while, and now, IT'S TIME!!

The organization that rescued Godred, Toby (the OC), and some of the story beats included herein have been borrowed from Cole (with permission)!

The language that Culdee speaks at the end is Zurich, keeping in line with where he was built, and I had to use Google Translate, so apologies for any incorrect translations!

(CW: Engine injury; mentions of engine death)

(Have an idea for a prompt I should write? Want to see what I've written so far? Details are here!)

Someone fixed Godred, and they want to bring him here.

Such was the terrifying, tantalizing thought curling within the smokeboxes of the eldest four engines of the Culdee Fell Railway once the news had broken that morning. Their Controller, Mr. Alistair Richards, had delivered the announcement in a rather unsteady voice, as though even he couldn't quite believe the contents of the call he'd received, although his disbelief was quite understandable. His grandfather had been the Controller when the... initial decision had been made, and Godred's name had long been scrubbed from all official documentation and tourist pamphlets, leaving it only to linger as a lump in the back of his brothers' throats.

All of the engines had thought about and considered this particular situation for the rest of the day, each of them feeling some kind of way about this particular announcement. Now that night had fallen and they were all back in their sheds, finally alone, it was time to discuss.

As the other six engines began to talk about the recent news, Culdee was silent. He in particular had always had the strongest feelings about Godred. He'd been the one to try and convince his brother of his foolishness. He'd been the one keeping the eldest's name alive though telling others of his demise, only for all the rest of the world to assume he was telling a ghost story or, even worse, making it up.

Now that had been an unpleasant conversation, the one he'd had to have with Skarloey and Rheneas of the Skarloey Railway. Once Duncan and Sir Handel had left, they'd so genuinely complimented him on his "made-up" story. It was the perfect thing to teach their younger engines a thing or two about safety, and no story of theirs could have been nearly as effective. Their faces so earnest, their laughter that of being in on some kind of joke. It had made Culdee want to vomit, should he have had the ability.

Instead, a long-dormant anguish, donning the guise of wrath, had erupted up from his boiler, filling his body from his tubes to his cylinders so quickly that for a moment, Culdee had forgotten how to breathe. The other two engines' good cheer had so quickly fallen away at the stony expression that stole away his smile, at the glint of steel in his once-affable gaze, leaving them both staring at him in wide-eyed confusion. "You think that I made that up?" he'd rumbled in disbelief, volcanic anger and chilly disappointment battling for dominance over each word. "You think that I would sully my brother's name and memories by lying about him? I had not realized that you both thought so little of me."

"No, it's not like that at all!" had come Skarloey's predictably panicked reply, and nearby, Rheneas had been struck silent, eyes overflowing with the clear desire to do damage control but not quite knowing where to start. "We didn't mean anything like that!" Skarloey had continued to plead, a note of desperation in his voice. "We'd heard about the accident, but all we'd heard was that Godred had been scrapped! Not anything about... his parts being... recycled..."

Culdee had taken a deep breath at Skarloey's clumsy attempt at delicacy, but decided to take the other engine at his word. "Very well. But please understand that I did not entrust you all with my brother's story just for it to be reduced to some tale. It is a tragedy, from beginning to his eventual end, and because nobody else will speak of it, I must. Otherwise... everything he died for will have been for naught."

Such a statement had struck the other two engines dumb, and thus, not another word on that particular topic had been shared for the rest of Culdee's visit.

"Culdee... y'alright?" came the quiet rumble of Shane Dooiney beside him, shaking him loose from the decades-old memory.

"Yes," Culdee muttered, willing himself to calm. In a louder voice, he started to address the rest of the shed, all of the other engines quieting themselves and listening closely as their de facto leader spoke. "Listen, everyone. Ernest confirmed that our Controller looked into the claims, and confirmed their authenticity himself. Godred is... in fact... alive."

A strong hush fell over the shed as the engines of the Culdee Fell Railway all shared glances, some of which were rather unsure, while others held deep dread. In the pit of a boiler, in the teeth of a wheel, in the base of a chimney, a certain tension had come to rest.

Culdee took a breath, and continued to speak. "Godred will be escorted here sometime next week. Patrick, Alaric, Eric, I know that you only know of Godred through our stories about him. However, I will ask that you reserve your judgement for when you actually meet him; we don't know what kind of... condition he will be in."

Nervous glances, followed by affirming sounds answered Culdee's instructions, and the No. 4 engine took one more breath before adjourning the meeting. As all of the engines settled into their berths, Culdee couldn't help but share glances with his two older brothers, as well as Shane Dooiney. All of them seemed as though they weren't quite inclined to sleep just yet, thoughts still stirring about the apparent revival of their eldest brother, long thought to have been scrapped.

Ernest had taken up the mantle of eldest ever since Godred's passing, and while Culdee had ended up becoming the leader of their little fleet, Ernest had taken it upon himself to be their representative to the management, not wanting to burden his little brother with more than he had to.

Wilfred's usual good-natured smile was nowhere to be seen; usually, he acted as the moodmaker of the group, and could reliably be counted on to bolster everyone's spirits during their worst days, but this time, he seemed remarkably somber, eyes staring off into years tinted in sepia.

Shane Dooiney, always one to make his thoughts plain, wore a deep scowl, clearly rattled by this turn of events. While he could be grouchy on the best of days, his candor and loyalty to his brothers had always been his best qualities, as well as his distaste for "nonsense and theatrics," and it was clear to see that he was less than thrilled about the return of one who'd caused them all so much grief.

As for Culdee himself... well. He still felt somewhat responsible for Godred's accident, and that feeling was likely to never go away. He also felt responsible for the rest of his brothers, both the older and the younger, given how he'd somehow ended up becoming their leader. However, as always, he would do the best he could do to get them all through the day, and that would simply have to be enough.

As each engine closed his eyes, one by one, all of the mountain engines fell into a fitful slumber. Certainly, Godred's return was something to be excited about, ecstatic even. It wasn't every day that a supposedly already-scrapped engine got a new least on life, much less one in Godred's condition. However, nobody quite wanted to admit that along with the joy they were supposed to feel, a looming trepidation skulked along in its shadow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As promised, the next week, Godred was delivered to the sheds at Kirk Machan for what his new owners had stated would hopefully be something of a warm reunion. All service had been cancelled for the day in order to allow the engines some "peace and privacy with their dear brother," meaning that all they could do was wait. A team of representatives from the group that had rescued Godred, known as PeCos, had already come by to introduce themselves. This particular group was being led by a woman named Melinda and her assistant Toby ("Hi; my name's Toby and I'm the vice-leader of this excursion. No, I wasn't named for the NWR's No. 7."), who gave their greetings and introductions to the Controller and the assembled engines. The team then performed a quick survey of the area before giving the all clear, and now, there was nothing to do but see this through.

All seven engines internally steeled themselves as the flatbed pulled up, a tarp covering what was supposedly their brother. Ernest and Wilfred put on what they hoped were warm, welcoming smiles, as Culdee and Shane Dooiney looked on with carefully neutral facades, and the youngest three couldn't hide their curiosity, tinged with no small amount of nervousness. With them stood their Controller, an expression of grim dignity on his face. Who could know his thoughts, now that he would be coming face to face with what was perhaps one of the most infamous incidents in his family legacy?

All four of the original engines remembered how Godred had looked, from start to finish. How could they not, especially when he'd been dismantled, cannibalized, piece by piece in front of their eyes? When he'd waffled between angry and apologetic, blaming them all one moment and tearfully wailing the next, cursing God and all above before pleading and praying that his salvation might still come. Telling his brothers how much he loved them in one breath and cursing them to fates as horrific as his in the next. However, whether or not any of his wishes were answered was unknown to them as his cries became softer and softer with time—up until his tubes were removed to fix Ernest. With that, Godred, the CFR's No. 1 engine, was silenced forever, his husk unceremoniously dumped in the pile to be taken to the scrap yard the very next day.

The image of such a gruesome, mangled mockery of a steam engine, a fate that no engine deserved, really, had bubbled up to the forefront of the eldest four engines' minds. Thus, they could only brace themselves, hoping and praying that seeing Godred in a supposedly "fixed" form meant that the guilt they felt building up in their borrowed parts would soon alleviate.

With the help of a crane, Godred was placed onto the tracks before them, and the tarp lifted by members of PeCos. Before the engines' eyes, there he stood: it was certainly Godred, and much to his brothers' deep and overwhelming relief, he appeared to be whole, all of his parts intact, with not even a chip on his paint to indicate that he was anything but immaculate. The only slightly odd thing was that his eyes were closed as if he were asleep, but perhaps he'd had a long trip; it seemed that only the Controller actually knew where this organization was based.

In unison, four mountain engines took a deep breath, feeling the pressure they'd carried for many a day now disperse. Finally, it was Wilfred who finally worked up the courage to call out to their brother. "...Godred?"

At once, the eyelids fluttered open to reveal an achingly familiar gaze, which bored itself into each of the assembled engines in the shed, taking in the smiles, the steady gazes, and the looks of curiosity before his eyes began to take in the sheds themselves. Although he hadn't yet spoken, the other engines couldn't hold themselves back any longer.

"Godred! You're back! Thank god!"

"I can't believe it! It's been so long! I thought... well, it doesn't matter. You're alive!"

"Can't believe how lucky you are, getting saved from scrap like that!"

"So this is Godred? After Culdee's story, I thought..."

"Well, what else were you expecting? A zombie?"

"Oooh, that might have been cool..."

"Everyone, quiet." This command had come from none other than Culdee, who was staring at his eldest brother with appraising eyes. Immediately, the chatter around him ceased, all eyes quickly settling upon him before shifting toward Godred, who still had not yet spoken, but was shaking in his frames, looking around the sheds with wide eyes and naked panic on his face. "Ha... haah... haaaah..." His voice was barely intelligible, so quiet that his panting could have been passed off as the laughter of the wind, but this was no laughing matter; from every angle, it appeared as though Godred was having a panic attack.

"Godred..." one of the PeCos members began, and reached out to touch him, just as Culdee yelled "NO!"

Yet, despite his warning, it came a moment too late; the touch was enough to push Godred over the edge, and with wild, unfocused eyes that clearly weren't seeing the present, Godred forced himself backwards, away from all assembled.

Unfortunately, when he'd been unloaded, his brake had apparently not been applied, because the jerking motion that Godred made was more than enough to send him careening backwards, off the track, and sending him skittering back down the bend toward where their rails met the NWR's main line.

"GODRED!" the PeCos members shrieked, and they hurried over to the prone engine, with Toby shouting orders as the others scampered to comply. The other engines could only watch on dumbly, not entirely sure how to parse what had just happened; even the Controller appeared to be at a complete loss for words.

Suddenly, biting through the silence as surely as a pinion against a track, one solid, steady command rang out amongst the cacophonous quiet. "Sir. Please steam me up. We won't be going far."

Mr. Alistair Richards' eyes swung towards Culdee, who was staring back at him with steep determination, and amidst the rest of the confusion, it comforted the Controller somewhat to know that at least someone had a plan amidst this... this farce.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about an hour, it became abundantly clear that Godred was in no condition to be either moved or touched, given the way his crazed gaze landed on anybody who dared approach. Not a word had escaped his lips, but his discomfort was clear enough to be understood by all assembled. Toby, the vice-leader of the visiting PeCos team, was roundly scolding his subordinates, particularly the poor soul who'd made the mistake of touching Godred during his panic attack and another who hadn't secured the brake properly, and was clearly trying to get the situation under control while Melinda, who was supposedly leading this team, simply looked overwhelmed.

With such a mess on their doorstep, Culdee was steamed up by the Controller himself and driven down a short ways to the site of the wreckage. After taking in all there was to see, the No. 4 locked eyes with Melinda. "Excuse me, could you please tell me what's going on? You said that my brother was coming to visit for a warm reunion, but now he's in this poor state. Please explain."

Culdee's tone was polite, but his eyes were stone cold, and Melinda seemed to shudder as she looked up at the engine and his Controller. "Well, you see... ever since we finished his repairs, Godred has been... less than communicative. We've tried everything we could think of, but after nothing appeared to work, it was suggested that we organize a visit here, to his old railway, to help him open up more. However, it seems that—"

"It seems that you miscalculated," Mr. Richards cut in, his words pretending politeness although his tone was ice-cold. "I would think that for billing yourselves as an engine rescue organization, you would do your research before exposing an engine so clearly in need of help to a place that was a source of such great trauma to him."

Melinda had no ready retort, and so could only bite her lip and nod her head at the criticism. "I understand. We will take full responsibility—"

"Of course you will," the Controller once again interrupted. "What shall we do now, Culdee?"

"..."

After a moment, the No. 4 sighed. "Please bring me closer to him."

The Controller silently obliged, with Melinda and the other PeCos members getting out of the way as Culdee trundled steadily forward.

Once Culdee was about as close to Godred as he could get, the CFR's No. 4 licked his lips and began to speak.

"Godred, ghöred Sie mich?" [Godred, can you hear me?]

One moment passed, then another. Godred continued to pant on the ground, but his eyes seemed to slowly blink back into clarity at the words.

"Ich bin's. Din chliine Brüeder." [It's me. Your little brother.]

"...Culdee..."

The reply was scratchy, forced out through a voice raspy with almost a century of disuse, and the listeners were barely able to make out that he'd said a word at all. However, for the first time since his rescue and overhaul, Godred, the CFR's former No. 1 engine, had spoken.

Culdee's eyes widened with delight, and for the first time that day, a small smile found its way to his face.

"Ja, da bisch du. Ich han gwüsst das es schaffsch. Du hesch dini Stimm wieder." [Yes, there you are. I knew you could do it. You have your voice back.]

"...Ich scho?" [...I do?]

"Ja. Ändlich chani dini Stimm wieder ghöre. Es isch so lang här..." [Yes. I can finally hear your voice again. It's been so long...]

There was a long silence for a moment, Godred's eyes fixed solely on Culdee and his gentle, sweet voice, before, to the amazement and sorrow of the onlookers, tears slipped out, running freely down the downed engine's cheeks. Those eyes, once so full of ego, had been broken, mellowed out by time and circumstance, to be softer now. It was a look Culdee wasn't used to seeing on such a proud face.

"Äxgüsi. Es tuet mer so leid. Bitte verzeihed Sie mir. [I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.]

"Ich het sölle zuelose. Ich hetts müesse wüsse." [I should have listened. I should have known.]

Culdee's eyes fluttered closed at the admission, trying to stifle the tears welling up behind his own eyes. After all these years of wondering what he could have, should have, done differently, of blaming himself for pushing too hard, and for not pushing enough, the simple acknowledgement so neatly cut through the cluttered emotions entwined around his heart. All at once, he'd been freed, from just a few simple words.

"Ich bin nur froh, dass du no läbsch." [It's alright. I'm just happy that you're alive.] Culdee replied sincerely, his smile growing slightly wider than before. In front of him, Godred's sobs continued, although they seemed to be tapering off, his gaze never leaving Culdee's as the No. 4 stared at him with a gentle expression.

"Es tuet mer Leid, dass ich so hässig uf eu gsi bin. Es isch nie eui Schuld gsi." [I'm sorry that I was so angry at you all. It was never your fault.]

"Muesch so viel Schmerz gha ha. Mached Sie sich kei sorge." [You must have been in so much pain. Don't worry about it.]

"..."

There was another beat of silence as Godred seemed to process all that Culdee had said, no longer shaking as the worst of his panic attack finally seemed to pass. As Godred's breaths evened out, his voice, despite still being in such poor condition, seemed to be a little stronger as well.

"Segeds mer. Bin ich eu allne nützlich gsi?" [Tell me. Was I useful to you all?]

At such a question, Culdee couldn't help but regard his brother with eyes warm with appreciation, mixed with what could only be heartbreak.

"Meh, als du jemals wüsse chöntsch." [More than you could ever know.]

Godred must have seen the pain in Culdee's face, but he didn't ask for clarification. Instead, he just continued to stare before a tiny smile crossed his face.

"Dänn langets ja." [That's good, then.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After another hour of discussion between the two brothers, Culdee finally turned to Melinda and Toby, who'd finished cleaning up as best they could. "It seems that my brother is ready to go back now," Culdee announced to the two, and both of them nodded, grateful smiles on their faces as they directed the crane to lift Godred from his position. "But please... let there not be a repeat of this."

"We won't let this happen again," Toby nodded solemnly, shooting a pointed look at Melinda. It seemed that someone might not be staying at PeCos much longer. "We'll keep you updated on his progress, and thanks to you, we have a much better idea of treatment options moving forward."

"That's good to hear," Culdee smiled, watching on as Godred was carefully transferred to the flatbed once again. "This place is no longer his home. I sincerely hope that he can be happier with you all."

As the PeCos staff worked to get him settled, Godred's eyes didn't leave Culdee, and Culdee's eyes didn't leave Godred.

"Chönnte mir..." [Could we...] Godred croaked, his expression hesitant, but he left the thought unfinished. Culdee, however, already knew what he wanted to say.

"Mir chönd rede, wenn immer Sie wend. Ich bin da." [We can talk whenever you would like. I'll be here.]

Thus, Godred was safely transported back to his new home. As the weeks passed, several calls came in to the CFR from PeCos headquarters, all asking for Numbers 2 through 5. Ernest's calm, steady voice told their brother about all of the interesting passengers he'd met and fun gossip he'd heard along the line. Wilfred performed his most recent rendition of his catchiest mountain-climbing songs, which earned him a round of applause from his many listeners. Shane Dooiney grumped about the weather, the trucks, and ridiculous passenger demands. Even the newer engines got their turn, introducing themselves to Godred and telling him about their most famous exploits.

For Culdee himself, however, he actually had very little to say. Instead, the CFR's No. 4 was perfectly happy to listen as his brother spoke about PeCos and his brand new life, smiling all the while.

[ayasha2643]

Superheated engines

Patrick: Don't you two ever spoke with words than using your faces to communicate?! Alaric and Eric: *Blinks before eyeing each other* Alaric: Us? Talking that could make Old Valiant glared at us? Eric: No, no we won't Patrick: This is weirder than talking with our cabs! Alaric and Eric: At least it isn't as creepy others would say!

[ladychandraofthemoone]

✨2/2✨

Happy late 2/2 day, so here’s all the twos of my au in somewhat chibi quick style, some designs are still pending for human au. 

Notes:

Harris belongs to Wildnorwester and considering he’s Mary’s Ann and Adeline’s second in command, I thought it fits him.

Ernest is technically like Edward, being as the website stated the eldest so I based him off of cool long hair Edward designs I saw 👀 

Smudger and Stanley having gold dust ✨ particles surrounding them thanks to their relationships. involvement  with gods and mythical spirits and the usual.

[toast-com]

Incorrect TTTE Quotes:

*Godred's naming ceremony*

TFC: I name thee Godred, after the ancient king of Sodor! *Shatters champagne bottle over Godred's boiler.*

Godred: :)

TFC: *Turning to No. 2* And I name you, Ernest.

Ernest: :/

[greatwesternway]

Last Look-out

Godred continues to be Useful.

[duskstargazer]

[1963] “Oh Godred, please not him!” “Stupid things,” Lord Harry grumbled, bumping the coach. “They’re all scared of coming with me.” “You’re too reckless,” said Wilfred. “That’s why.” “Rubbish! I’m up-to-date, that’s all. I can go twice the speed of any of you old rustbuckets in perfect safety. They,” he continued, glaring back at the coach, “are just chicken shit. They need a bit of toughening up.” “God, Harry, language!” Wilfred gaped. Lord Harry only rolled his eyes. “All the same,” Ernest cut in, with a hard look in her eyes, “we don’t take such risks on a mountain railway.” “Peh, risk? What risk? Why, with my superheat-” “Superheat? Is that what you kids call it?” Culdee interjected. “In my day, we called that conceit!” Lord Harry went a deep red and fumed away, yanking the coach along. Culdee and Wilfred both laughed, while Ernest watched with trepidation as the number 6 made his way to the platform.

[kingdicemrwheezyflowertor]

(Im pretty sure u called this alr bc im predictable) but what abt Godred and the other two (3 and 0) for the ask thing (or ship thing idk-)

I didn’t actually predict this so I’m honestly surprised. Godred; Timothy and Alfred eh? Oh boy this is gonna be long but LETS GO!!!

Let’s start with Timothy first:

OTP: Timothy and Alfred. My wife and I ship them and Kroven together as an open relationship kinda thing but I first made it be that Timothy had no love interest. (Due to his mental health)

BROTP: Timothy and Thomas. The two are brothers so I see a Bromance with these two a lot despite Timothy wanting to kill his brother just to move on.

NOTP: Timothy and Godred. Ironic but it’s true. Plus I doubt the two can go 5 minutes without trying to kill each other from how annoying Godred is.

MEHTP: Surprisingly; Him and 311. Timothy died going off the Viaduct and 311 died trying to cross a bridge. They both died tragically and both wanted revenge. But with 311 moving on and Timothy not moving on, It’s a Meh for me.

Rarepair: I don’t really have anything here for Timothy. He’s just a spirit lol I don’t see many shippings with him.

Next up; Alfred:

OTP: Alfred and Kroven. Friends until Alfred went crazy and got himself killed but Kroven’s love for Alfred will continue on until Alfred is brought back and the two can start dating lol

BROTP: Alfred with Either Henry or Gordon. Despite the fact that Alfred wanted them dead, Alfred wasn’t really thinking right so I bet he would have get really guilty for what he did.

NOTP: Alfred with Geoffrey. I have seen videos where the two never got along and to be honest I can see why; Especially if Alfred is being the nice guy for once. Their relationship just won’t work.

MEHTP:Alfred with the female engines. If he wasn’t gay in my world; I would make him for a girl but I would have to see who would work well for him and that’s gonna take a long time to do lol.

Rarepair: Hmmmm; Alfred and Timothy. I can definitely see the two getting along so well and especially when they both wanted to murder innocent engines.

And Last but not least; Godred:

OTP: Godred and Ernest. Godred grew up with Ernest but I don’t consider them as brothers due to Godred being much older than Ernest. Plus Godred did name Ernest so I feel like it would really impact him.

BROTP: Godred and Culdee. Culdee was being so nice to Godred even after Godred had his accident; Culdee wanted to help him but he couldn’t. It’s like an Older brother; Younger brother kinda thing for them.

NOTP: Godred and Catherine. Godred is too mean and Abusive; Catherine deserves better than that Bastard.

MEHTP: Godred and Wilfred. Eh; I don’t really see this shipping nor have I seen Godred get shipped with him.

Rarepair: Godred with the rest of the Culdee cell railway engines. Godred likes Power and it’s already bad enough that Godred is a Jerk to some when he was around

[ohjeeztrains]

It's Ernest's 101st birthday (build day) today

[traintrainingmontage]

🥳 THANK YOU!! 🥳

I've recently reached 150 followers on this blog, and I can't thank you all enough!! 💖 To celebrate, I'm opening prompts: please send me an ask containing a short prompt, from a word to a sentence, and I'll write a little something (TTTE-related) for it!

I'll be keeping these open from now (March 1) until the end of the month, so please feel free to send in more than one (but please don't spam)! I am doing these prompts in the order that I receive them, at a speed of one per day. If you submitted one and it's taking a while, I PROMISE that I will get to it! Every single prompt submitted will have a ficlet written for it!

You do not have to be following me to submit a prompt. This is open for everyone and anyone!

Once again, thank you all, and I'm looking forward to seeing what you send in! 💖✨️

Now on Ao3 as well!

UPDATE: PROMPTS ARE NOW CLOSED! Thank you to everyone who sent one in! I will be finishing up the rest of the prompts in my inbox, but likely not at the pace at which I've been doing them. Still, they will all be completed, so please look forward to it!! Thank you again for participating!

Prompt 1 — Sir Handel, Peter Sam, and Duke: Stories

Prompt 2 — Daisy, Mavis, Rusty, and BoCo: UNO (sequel to Poker)

Prompt 3 — James and Oliver: More Alike than Not

Prompt 4 — Mrs. Last and OC (ft. Peter Sam): Community

Prompt 5 — Peter Sam and Y/N Self Insert: An Ordinary Kindness

Prompt 6 — Bill, Ben, and Nia: Riddles

Prompt 7 — Gordon and Flying Scotsman: Birthday

Prompt 8 — Rusty and Stepney (ft. Thomas and Rheneas): A Day Out

Prompt 9 — Duncan, Peter Sam, and Skarloey: Celebration

Prompt 10 — Rajiv and Charubala: Crown

Prompt 11 — Sir Handel and Rheneas: Bonding

Prompt 12 — Skarloey and Rheneas: Reincarnation (Part 1)

Prompt 13 — Daisy, Mavis, Rusty, and BoCo: Poker (prequel to UNO)

Prompt 14 — Skarloey and Neil: Who I Am Now

Prompt 15 — Donald and James: Respect

Prompt 16 — Mighty Mac (ft. Sir Handel and Peter Sam): Rescue

Prompt 17 — Gina: Trapped

Prompt 18 — Skarloey and Rheneas: Cats

Prompt 19 — Duncan and OC: Prologue

Prompt 20 — Donald, Douglas, and OCs: Sodor-Bound

Prompt 21 — Rebecca and Duncan: Surprising Advice

Prompt 22 — Spencer and Percy: Legacy

Prompt 23 — Skarloey and Rheneas: Reincarnation (Part 2)

Prompt 24 — Ryan and Oliver: Burdens

Prompt 25 — Thomas, Annie, and Clarabel: Fashion

Prompt 26 — Culdee and Godred (ft. Ernest, Wilfred, and Shane Dooiney): Return

Prompt 27 — Jinty and Pug: Sudrians

Prompt 28 — Sir Handel and Duncan: Competition

Prompt 29 — Henry: Overhaul

Prompt 30 — Emily and Edward: Preservation

Prompt 31 — Donald, Douglas, and OCs: A New Start

Prompt 32 — Cranky (ft. the Cranes of Sodor): Connection Test

Prompt 33 — Donald and Douglas: A Lifetime Ago

[transfem-edward]

Ok smart ass *pulls out torch*

ernest: i could just call our controller and have you banned

[transfem-edward]

Fuk it *stabs ernest*

Ernest: well i hate to break it to you but i am made of metal and do not have humanoid anatomy, this cannot damage me beyond mild to severe pain