Coleman!
Do the oldest members of the crew change to be more like the train?
Coleman's heard it called the Blessing, the Ascension, the Touch, and more. Every crew has their own name for it, but Mister Conagher always called it the Becomin'. You stop being part of the crew, and take on, just for a little bit, part of that train.
You have to. It's part of survival. Firemen rinse the coal off their claws, and find more coal growing underneath. Brakemen perk up and rush to their wheels a split second before the whistle blows, listening to something only they can hear. Conductors' scales glint with steel, perfect for repelling owls and unruly travelers alike.
And Engineers get the Becomin' the worst. Mouths that open to reveal a gaping, cherry-red furnace, or which speak in nothing but creaks and whistles. Joints which require oil and a bit of a runup to get going. Eyes which see nothing but the track, minds that forget how to be human. Mister Conagher even, if you spike his coffee enough, will agree to tell stories about his predecessor, who--well, Coleman had sampled some of the coffee himself, and so wasn't entirely sure on the details. The old kobold had pulled them together, named Mister Conagher as the
Mighty Natascha's new choice, and walked off to the engine, and was never seen again. But Mister Conagher had said the engine had been somehow
more than it had been before. And at night, in those long shifts shoveling coal, Coleman had always wondered whether that one set of dials might look, if you squint, just a bit like a face.
Privately, Coleman always thought it sounded wonderful. One of his fellow knights had told him a story about an engineer that, one day, just opened the firebox and crawled in. Regina had described how merrily the old lizard had burned like he was supposed to be horrified, but... Well, it sounded almost comfortable. Like a great hug, or being wrapped in the best blanket ever.
“It came from the water,” Rufftuff says, stroking his whiskers. “That was a good day! Positively bedragglement it was.” He leans in close. “Silas tells me this is for crushing drinks out of things. How does it work?”
"Bigger passenger trains have things like this," he said vaguely. "Because they don't know how to make things the old-fashioned way, you see. Here's how it works, see? Next time you head up to Detritus, ask around after Joed. He'll make you do a task for him, but he's the best source of the plant you need. Do an extra good job, and he'll even grind the beans for you. You add water to
this bit, along with the beans, and heat it up on the fire."
Coleman pauses, uncertain. The
Mighty Natascha has a coffeepot, of course, tucked away in the caboose, but it looks nothing like this.
"Then you add half a crushed eggshell in this top bit," he decides, "and add some cold water. You can drink most of the pot, but you should always throw away the last cup. Or feed it to a passing train, as tribute, makes the cabin smell lovely."
Phoe
Lurking Krog