i've been thinking about doing this for a while, and am excited, so please keep this bumped, mostly so I can find it. :P

 

chapter 1: all aboard

 

Twister grumbled as he trudged up the stairs to his room, tail thumping against each step, and footclaws faintly tapping on each step. Shoving the last two pieces of honey ham in his mouth, he sat down on the bed and checked his specially-built phone; 11:32 PM, December 24, and a new text from his father, along with a short video of his little sister doing loops around a small turboprop plane; not surprising, since she, like himself, was a Skywing.

His mother and Father, who had adopted the names Kurenai and Rockfall, had been randomly turned into Wings of Fire dragons about 18 years ago along with about 20 others, and sent on a dimention-hopping goose chase, until returning to Earth a year and a half later. Of course, the world went nuts, government tests (completely safe and ethical, thankfully) were done, and they were soon awkwardly labeled an endangered species, which had let his parents set up home in a secluded cave in a national park in the Rockies. They had him 14 years ago, and his sister 4 years later. This would be his first Christmas away from home, but at least his family, both human and dragon, would all be here tomorrow.

The others dispersed to their respective habitats; in fact, there was a patch of woods about 80 miles from the Illinois farming town where Twister’s family farm is located, that is home to a pair of Nightwings.

Twister lay on his back, wings akimbo, and watched the video several times, smiling at Redwood’s adorable giggles. No doubt mom nearly fell out of the sky when she did that, He thought. Then, he read the text, which was a list of rules for the family farm. He skimmed over most, until he got to number 6, which was all uppercase. It read, NO FIRE IN THE GRAIN BIN, and had a link next to it. Clicking on the link, Twister spent 10 minutes reading about a massive grain dust explosion at a Texas grain elevator that had happened several years ago, and was felt and heard over 10 miles away, and killed 13 people. 

Turning off the phone, which now read 11:42, he rolled onto his stomach, folded his Ferrari-red wings, and tried to get comfortable on the old, lumpy bed. Staring outside at the smooth coat of brilliant white snow, shimmering in the moonlight, and covering the 2-lane highway the farm was connected to, he thought about another rule he had noticed: practice your flying. Thanks to one of the 22 dragons being an animus, everyone had 2 forms: a ‘four-footed big-toothed’ form, as Twister’s little sister had dubbed it, and a two-legged form, which Twister had to switch to to fit in the house. The two-legged form had wings, a tail, the head shape, and claws of a dragon, but was human-sized. He could still breathe fire, though. 

What his dad meant was that Twister needed to practice flying in his two-legged form, because unlike his dad, who was graceful in flight no matter what, a slight breeze could send Twister into a tailspin and end up with him being tangled in the branches of a pine. He snorted smoke at the thought, turned over, and closed his eyes.

Off in the distance, three blasts of an air horn were heard, but he didn’t pay any attention, despite one of Twister’s favorite activities being following trains through the mountains, and talking with crews when they were in Sidings. instead, he focused on the ticking of the old alarm clock on the desk, surrounded by antique farm toys.

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

 


Twister’s eyes snapped open, and he drowsily stared at the clock; it had stopped at 5 minutes to midnight. Grabbing his phone, he navigated through it to check the actual time, but only became more confused when it turned out it had also stopped completely at 11:55.

At that moment, a faint rattling sound came to his ears, and he looked to the source; a small toy implement was quivering, causing its parts to make the sound. As Twister tilted his head at it, others started joining in for no apparent reason; then, 3-,4-,5-pound die-cast metal tractors started jumping around on the desk and headboard, a coffee cup full of pencils spilled onto the floor, and a chair started slowly moving across the room.

Suddenly, a bright yellow light from outside filled the room, and was accompanied by a deafening blast of an air horn. Twister leaped out of bed, slipped on a Flannel shirt and a Colombia jacket from a nearby ethanol plant, both with special holes for his wings, slapped on his lucky John Deere hat, and dashed down the stairs, as the squeal of brakes filled the air.

Bursting through the front door, he skidded to a stop, slack-jawed, all 33 teeth showing, at the sight before him.

Slowly appearing from behind a cloud of powdered snow, was a train.

He immediately recognized the trucks, shape, and design of ALCO PA- and PB-1s,  4 PBs and 2 PAs, he mentally noted, in an ABBBBA setup. Looking to his left, he saw a line of passenger cars, maybe 35 (he only guessed that because of the lights from inside) curving off into the distance.

Walking up to the engines, which were just past the farm, he started to see that they were painted with the normal maroon stripe, though on the engine the upper half of the noses were all maroon. 

Along with the passenger cars were 4 matching boxcars, presumably holding supplies, and a baggage car. Twister started slowly walking back towards the passenger cars, when he heard a cry of “alllllll aboooooaaarrd!”

Looking for the source, he saw a man waving a lantern from about 10 cars back. Now looking pointedly at him, he yelled again, “ALLLLLLL ABOOOOAARD!”

He started jogging.

 

 

chapter 2 coming soon!

 

(modbot/becky/mods/filter let this through, I beg of you)

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

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Remambar me Night?

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♣️Ατιαs♣️

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BE HAPI!

Great job! I can't wait to read the next chapter ^-^

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Real name: Cora

nickname: hope

94% of people think wolves are evil creatures. Copy and paste to your signature if you're the 6% who think they are kind and lovable.

 

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Whoa

 

Hooked already! Great job writing! :D

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good riddance, we are

running in a marathon that none of us signed up for

each of us determined to reach the end, but

none of us noticing that there is no finish line

despite our

exhaustion

leaving, simply walking off the track never crosses our minds

thanks!

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

shunt

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Chapter 2: get on!

 


Twister walked the last car-length, and finally took a good look at the man who had gotten his attention. He was wearing a crisp blue suit, and looking at an old-looking pocket watch, and holding a clipboard in the other hand, and half-moon glasses.

Letting out a steamy breath and flicking his wings, said, “Quite a dramatic entrance, don’t you think?”

The man nodded and replied, “quite. Is this you?” He showed him a clipboard. Then, when Twister nodded the man squinted at him, and added, “aren’t you a little underdressed?”

Twister looked down and finally noticed he’d neglected to put on a shirt, and his bare chest was exposed to the single-degree temperatures. He’d also forgotten shoes, and was still in his pizza pajama pants.

“i’ll be fine,” he said, snorting two small flames out his nostrils as an example. 

“hm.” The Conductor started to climb up the stairs, but stopped and turned to Twister when he hesitated. “well? Ya coming?”

Twister instinctively replied with “where?” And jumped when the Conductor burst out with “WHY, TO THE NORTH POLE, OF COURSE! This is THE POLAR EXPRESS!”

“well, let’s get going, the-hold on, wait 30 seconds,” Twister said, before taking to the air.

Thankfully, the night air was still as he flew on his unsteady wings, and let out a small sigh of relief when he touched down on the porch and raced up the stairs.

He came back out, making sure to shut the door behind him, holding his phone. 

Touching back down next to the train, he hopped up the stairs as the Conductor ushers him into the car, where he was met with a cacophony of voices singing, talking, and random kid yelling “YEET” as he backflipped across the aisle. 

But these all hushed as everyone turned to look at him; he shrunk back behind the doorway, having had pretty limited contact with human kids his age, and no doubt these ones had never heard of him. The only thing that broke the silence was two blasts of the horn, and the clanking of the couplers as the train started moving. Twister suddenly felt very self-self-conscious.

But his shyness disappeared when one kid yelled, “DUDE, YOU LOOK SICK!” And then he was surrounded. He was now the center of attention, and spent the next hour telling the story of how hw came to be for a half hour, the other half just the kids admiring his scales and wings, which were wider than the train car.  All the while, the train was stopping and starting, and a steady stream of kids were getting on.

Eventually, everyone settled down, and he ended up sitting next to a 10-year old brunette, who just smiled at him awkwardly.

“hey, dragon kid,”

“the name’s Twister.” He held out his talon for a high-five, and received an enthusiastic one from a kid in yellow PJs with a science-y pattern on them. He looked about 11. “you know what kind of train this is?”

“actually, I do. It’s six Alco PA- and PB-1s, in an ABBBBA setup, each with 2,000 horsepower and a top speed of 117 mph. They were built between 1946 and 1953 in Schenectady, New York.”

“impressive!”

“thanks. Right now I’d say were doing about 110 miles an ho-WOAH!”

At that moment, a freight train whizzed by the window, empty, lights off, seemingly parked for the night. Coal car after coal car flew by, and every kid rushed to that side of  the car, except for Twister. 

“hey, why aren’t you looking?” Yellow PJs asked.

“i’ve seen it before, when I follow ‘em through the mountains where my family lives. Get a pretty good bird’s eye view of them aro-“

“YOU MEAN THOSE WINGS ACTUALLY WORK!?!?!” The kid raced over to Twister and yanked the wing out to get a better look at it, causing him to wince. “watch it, Rocket Science, the membranes are delicate, and they take weeks to grow back.”

“oh, sorry,” he mumbled, quickly letting go of the wing. A welcome sign flew by (they had transitioned from tracks to another road), with POPULATION: 862 in fancy letters.

“no, no, it’s fine, you can look, just… be gentle.”

“here-mind if I…?” Yellow PJ motioned for Twister to stand up, which he did.  “I just want to measure your wingspan.”

“oh, sure.” Twister stood in the aisle, facing the windows, and spread his wings. Everyone in the car were surprised as the wings extended… and kept extending, until they reached their limit, at which point Yellow PJs pulled out his phone, opened up a measuring app, and walked from one end to the other. 

“’43 feet, 7 inches,” Yellow PJs announced. 

“wider than I thought,” Twister mumbled, as the train started slowing, causing him to shift his stance. He folded his wings back up, turned and sat back down in his seat. “but that’s nothing compared to my dad. I’m not even full grown,” Twister mumbled, half to himself.

“um… can I see your teeth?” Yellow PJs asked, still obsessed with Twister’s unique features. 

“eh, I’m bored. plus, I don’t want to frighten the littler ones here. Also, what’s your name?” He took out his phone, and started to play a game. 

“steven.”

Then, the PA system crackled to life, and the conductor’s voice came through, saying “next stop, 8203 Blackburn, next stop, eighty-two hundred and three, blackburn.” 

Steven crawled over Twister’s tail, making him wince, and announcing, “we’re heading for the other side of the tracks!”

The train slid to a stop in front of a house in the middle of suburbia, and another kid appeared from the billowing snow and steam, with the conductor talking to him. Twister opened the window to watch, as the kid stepped back, wary of this surprise occurrence. He heard the conductor say, “suit yourself,” get back on, and wave the lantern. The engineer blew the horn twice, and the train jolted into motion.

Twister sat back down, and started playing Crossy road on his phone, until out of nowhere, he was thrown from his seat and slid into the aisle as the train came to another, more violent stop.

Getting back up and rubbing his horn where it had clipped a seatback, he turned to look out the window, and caught a glimpse of the nervous kid climbing on about 15 cars back. 

Mumbles of “what was that?” And assorted groans as other kids got their wits back about them filled the car, until the conductor slammed the front door open, strode quickly down the car, a furious look on his face, and ripped open the door at the other end of the car, heading towards the rear of the train.

Twister looked at the little brunette who had been sitting next to him, now crawling out from under the seat in front of him, and held out a talon. She took it, and, standing up, said, “what’s his problem?”

The conductor himself answered that question, as everyone heard him yell from 7 cars back “WHO IN THE BLAZES APPLIED THAT EMERGENCY BRAKE?!!?!”

Looking back at the brunette, Twister smiled and said, “there’s your answer,” causing them both to laugh, as the two air horn blasts sounded again, and for a second time, the train got back underway. 

 

 

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

Chapter 2: get on!

 


Twister walked the last car-length, and finally took a good look at the man who had gotten his attention. He was wearing a crisp blue suit, and looking at an old-looking pocket watch, and holding a clipboard in the other hand, and half-moon glasses.

Letting out a steamy breath and flicking his wings, said, “Quite a dramatic entrance, don’t you think?”

The man nodded and replied, “quite. Is this you?” He showed him a clipboard. Then, when Twister nodded the man squinted at him, and added, “aren’t you a little underdressed?”

Twister looked down and finally noticed he’d neglected to put on a shirt, and his bare chest was exposed to the single-degree temperatures. He’d also forgotten shoes, and was still in his pizza pajama pants.

“i’ll be fine,” he said, snorting two small flames out his nostrils as an example. 

“hm.” The Conductor started to climb up the stairs, but stopped and turned to Twister when he hesitated. “well? Ya coming?”

Twister instinctively replied with “where?” And jumped when the Conductor burst out with “WHY, TO THE NORTH POLE, OF COURSE! This is THE POLAR EXPRESS!”

“well, let’s get going, the-hold on, wait 30 seconds,” Twister said, before taking to the air.

Thankfully, the night air was still as he flew on his unsteady wings, and let out a small sigh of relief when he touched down on the porch and raced up the stairs.

He came back out, making sure to shut the door behind him, holding his phone. 

Touching back down next to the train, he hopped up the stairs as the Conductor ushers him into the car, where he was met with a cacophony of voices singing, talking, and random kid yelling “YEET” as he backflipped across the aisle. 

But these all hushed as everyone turned to look at him; he shrunk back behind the doorway, having had pretty limited contact with human kids his age, and no doubt these ones had never heard of him. The only thing that broke the silence was two blasts of the horn, and the clanking of the couplers as the train started moving. Twister suddenly felt very self-self-conscious.

But his shyness disappeared when one kid yelled, “DUDE, YOU LOOK SICK!” And then he was surrounded. He was now the center of attention, and spent the next hour telling the story of how hw came to be for a half hour, the other half just the kids admiring his scales and wings, which were wider than the train car.  All the while, the train was stopping and starting, and a steady stream of kids were getting on.

Eventually, everyone settled down, and he ended up sitting next to a 10-year old brunette, who just smiled at him awkwardly.

“hey, dragon kid,”

“the name’s Twister.” He held out his talon for a high-five, and received an enthusiastic one from a kid in yellow PJs with a science-y pattern on them. He looked about 11. “you know what kind of train this is?”

“actually, I do. It’s six Alco PA- and PB-1s, in an ABBBBA setup, each with 2,000 horsepower and a top speed of 117 mph. They were built between 1946 and 1953 in Schenectady, New York.”

“impressive!”

“thanks. Right now I’d say were doing about 110 miles an ho-WOAH!”

At that moment, a freight train whizzed by the window, empty, lights off, seemingly parked for the night. Coal car after coal car flew by, and every kid rushed to that side of  the car, except for Twister. 

“hey, why aren’t you looking?” Yellow PJs asked.

“i’ve seen it before, when I follow ‘em through the mountains where my family lives. Get a pretty good bird’s eye view of them aro-“

“YOU MEAN THOSE WINGS ACTUALLY WORK!?!?!” The kid raced over to Twister and yanked the wing out to get a better look at it, causing him to wince. “watch it, Rocket Science, the membranes are delicate, and they take weeks to grow back.”

“oh, sorry,” he mumbled, quickly letting go of the wing. A welcome sign flew by (they had transitioned from tracks to another road), with POPULATION: 862 in fancy letters.

“no, no, it’s fine, you can look, just… be gentle.”

“here-mind if I…?” Yellow PJ motioned for Twister to stand up, which he did.  “I just want to measure your wingspan.”

“oh, sure.” Twister stood in the aisle, facing the windows, and spread his wings. Everyone in the car were surprised as the wings extended… and kept extending, until they reached their limit, at which point Yellow PJs pulled out his phone, opened up a measuring app, and walked from one end to the other. 

“’43 feet, 7 inches,” Yellow PJs announced. 

“wider than I thought,” Twister mumbled, as the train started slowing, causing him to shift his stance. He folded his wings back up, turned and sat back down in his seat. “but that’s nothing compared to my dad. I’m not even full grown,” Twister mumbled, half to himself.

“um… can I see your teeth?” Yellow PJs asked, still obsessed with Twister’s unique features. 

“eh, I’m bored. plus, I don’t want to frighten the littler ones here. Also, what’s your name?” He took out his phone, and started to play a game. 

“steven.”

Then, the PA system crackled to life, and the conductor’s voice came through, saying “next stop, 8203 Blackburn, next stop, eighty-two hundred and three, blackburn.” 

Steven crawled over Twister’s tail, making him wince, and announcing, “we’re heading for the other side of the tracks!”

The train slid to a stop in front of a house in the middle of suburbia, and another kid appeared from the billowing snow and steam, with the conductor talking to him. Twister opened the window to watch, as the kid stepped back, wary of this surprise occurrence. He heard the conductor say, “suit yourself,” get back on, and wave the lantern. The engineer blew the horn twice, and the train jolted into motion.

Twister sat back down, and started playing Crossy road on his phone, until out of nowhere, he was thrown from his seat and slid into the aisle as the train came to another, more violent stop.

Getting back up and rubbing his horn where it had clipped a seatback, he turned to look out the window, and caught a glimpse of the nervous kid climbing on about 15 cars back. 

Mumbles of “what was that?” And assorted groans as other kids got their wits back about them filled the car, until the conductor slammed the front door open, strode quickly down the car, a furious look on his face, and ripped open the door at the other end of the car, heading towards the rear of the train.

Twister looked at the little brunette who had been sitting next to him, now crawling out from under the seat in front of him, and held out a talon. She took it, and, standing up, said, “what’s his problem?”

The conductor himself answered that question, as everyone heard him yell from 7 cars back “WHO IN THE BLAZES APPLIED THAT EMERGENCY BRAKE?!!?!”

Looking back at the brunette, Twister smiled and said, “there’s your answer,” causing them both to laugh, as the two air horn blasts sounded again, and for a second time, the train got back underway. 

 

 

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

ack double post

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Woo!

 

Or should I say "Yeet" and backflip across the aisle? XD

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good riddance, we are

running in a marathon that none of us signed up for

each of us determined to reach the end, but

none of us noticing that there is no finish line

despite our

exhaustion

leaving, simply walking off the track never crosses our minds

i'd stick with "woo", but thanks for the support!

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current mood: tired

JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

shunt

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current mood: tired

JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

next chapter gon be low on dialogue, and high on dramatic visualization, basically, for the mental image, imagine a drone following the train. I've got it all planned out in my head, along with chapter 4.

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 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

ACK  i'm pROCRASTINATING

 

shunt

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shunt

 

new chapter coming tonight/tomorrow, if filter cooperates. 

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 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

Hyped for the next chapter! :D

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Ƒαηƚαѕу/Lιαc

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Bookish Writer-Editor

Fam: FallonAtlasZaneParadox, Wizmore

Twin: Forest

BotW: 345247

EST. 10/08/14

Valentine's day!

 

Life Update: Check out my homethread! /352812

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shunt

 

new chapter coming soon, and here's a test: chicago o'hare international airport

 

mods let this through, please, 

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HEY IT WORKED

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Chapter 3: hot chocolate!

 


Twister sat back down, slumping a bit, and pulled out his phone. Opening up Chrome, he started playing a .io game. the car rocked gently as it was sped down the line, lulling several kids to sleep. the air horn let out 4 blasts up ahead, breaking the silence of the snow-covered night, and kicking up clouds of powder that surrounded the train.

A few moments later, and from a different car, the Conductor made another announcement; “your attention please, are there any Polar Express passengers in need of refreshment?” Then, a few moments later, “I thought so.”

Twister turned to the Brunette, opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a group of french-mustached waiters bursting into the car, each carrying a platter with 3 mugs on them, accompanied by the song ‘hot chocolate’ (listen to it, it’s a good song), and violently tap dancing.

As they went down the car, they flipped every other seat around so it was facing the one behind it, and then taking their aprons and setting them down on a table that had appeared out of thin air. 

A few more seconds later, a large, brass cart with a strange-looking container on it, and 4 chefs hanging off of it, burst through the door, and the chefs started squirting hot chocolate out of 4 nozzles, 1 on each corner. They had incredible aim; not 1 drop landed outside of a mug.

The second a mug was set down in front of Twister, he started guzzling it down. Not that he needed to warm up or anything, in fact, his right wing was being used by the brunette as a makeshift heated blanket; he just loved hot chocolate, and he found it aided in his reaction time, which was useful for avoiding trees after a surprise gust of wind drives you towards the earth.

Just as he finished his first mug, it was scooped up by a waiter and replaced with a fresh full mug. Incredibly efficient, these guys are, he thought, immediately picking up the second mug and getting to work.

A minute and a half later, another French waiter picked up the mugs, ripped away the apron to reveal nothing underneath, and moved on to the next car with the others, flipping seats around to face the same direction on the way out.

Twister slumped and let out a growly sigh, wisps of steam escaping his nostrils. Hearing a thwump a few seats back, he lazily turned to see that a chubby kid had completely knocked out, and was slumped low on the seat. He let out a loud snore.

Turning back around, Twister looked at the brunette and said, “you know, I never got your name.”

“angela,” she replied with a small smile. 

Outside, the train was speeding down a 4-lane street, a stoplight every quarter-mile, and blowing the horn at each one, no matter green or red. But up ahead, the storefronts on either side ended, along with the stoplights, and a large green sign was illuminated by the ALCO’s powerful headlight: FREEWAY BEGINS.

Climbing up the on-ramp, the engines started blowing smoke from the hard work. At the top, the train slowed to a crawl, just like a roller coaster, and then, once over the crest, started to speed up, the plow occasionally catching on snowdrifts.

As the highway came into view, the engineer smiled, as there was not a single car or truck on the road, and it started snowing again. By the time the train had moved completely off the on-ramp and onto the highway, it was accelerating past 80 mph, heading straight for downtown Chicago.

4 miles ahead…

Phil, an engineer for METRA (chicago’s commuter rail service), was running the last train of the night down the middle of one of the main highways. He was wondering why, oh why, did he get assigned with this shift, as there was no one else on the train.

Suddenly, he saw a blinding light in his rearview mirror, and another train blew past him on the highway. Car after car flew by like he was standing still, and he was doing 50 mph. He watched in utter amazement, and then confusion: it was running on pavement? How???

The Polar Express flew past a large park, shaking the branches and dumping snow on the ground. It rounded a curve, blasting apart snowdrifts in front of it and making the city road crew’s job a bit easier, and making a wake of snow in the air.

The highway slowly rose to tower over the suburbs of Chicago, giving the passengers a good view of the city lights in the distance. Most were out, apart from the streetlights, but some of the skyscrapers, including Willis tower, were mostly illuminated, if just for show. 

As the Polar Express raced down the 6-lane freeway, concrete rumbling just below, half the train had broke out into a chorus singing the Polar Express theme song, which at times could be heard even over the roar of steel wheels on rails.

As the train went under an overpass, which had 1 inch of clearance, the snow that had been slowly accumulating on the flat roofs of the streamlined passenger cars was scraped off, piling up more and more during the 45 seconds it took the half-mile-long train to pass, until it almost reached over the top of the bridge, before falling with a poof to the ground behind it, to confuse the road crews in the morning.

15 minutes later…

The brakes squealed as a freeway ends sign whipped overhead, and the transition went from 6 to 4 lanes, then quickly to a T-junction, where the Polar Express joined up with normal tracks, passing a dumbfounded cop.

soon, the Polar express came to the first of many apartment buildings that would be stops in Chicago, anywhere from 5 to 50 kids piling on at each stop, none staying behind. The train grew increasingly noisy and hot, some even turning each individual car’s central heating off.

The city appeared sound asleep as the long maroon-and-blue streak wound it’s way south through Downtown Chicago, even stopping, ironically, outside Grand Central Station, instead of inside.

soon, the tracks came past the frozen expanse known as Lake Michigan, with frozen Whitecaps dotting the surface.

Back on the highway (heh), the Polar Express raced around the tip of the Lake, through northern Indiana, and headed north, next major stop: Grand Rapids, Michigan.

 

mods, I beg of you, let this through.

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shunt

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shunt

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 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

shunt

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Great job, Night! I can't wait to read the next chapter ^-^

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Ƒαηƚαѕу/Lιαc

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Valentine's day!

 

Life Update: Check out my homethread! /352812

Night remember me It's gorilla OwO

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BE HAPI!

no, sorry, I don't. I remember no one from my chat days.

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cri

 

 

 

 

 

Then how do you remember galaxy? DUN DUN DUNNNNN

 

you lied! xd

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♣️Ατιαs♣️

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shunt 

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NEW CHAPTER ON THE WAY (hopefully, if the filter cooperates)

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As the tree line flashed outside the window, the conductor came over the PA again, announcing that they were entering Huron-Manistee National Forest, and that in an hour and a half, Lake Michigan would be within sight. 

The train wound through picture-perfect hills and valleys, and Twister got several shots that would win art contests. All the while, the plow on the lead engine was sending snow cascading on either side of the train, and it was working hard, but the train never even slowed, as the wind had piled the snow on the downhill side (towards lake Michigan), and the momentum and gravity bashed any tough resistance.

As the train topped the last hill, Lake Michigan, frozen except for the shipping channels, came into view. Everyone rushed to one side of the train, eager to see the most well-known great lake.

Once again, small towns were the main view out the window, but these were more fishing towns, and the train wound up the coast at a blazing speed, the snow getting deeper as it powered north.

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

I will be posting the next chapter in sections, to determine what is keeping it from going through.

 

Chapter 4: bridges? Who needs bridges?

 


The Polar Express raced across the Michigan state line, the conductor announcing this over the PA system. Soon after, someone in Twister’s car started humming the tune to The Polar Express, and before they even got to the second verse, the whole car had joined in, except for Twister, who still had wisps of steam curling out of his nostrils.

Angela, belting out the lines with everyone else, elbowed him, and paused to say, “C’mon, join in! At least do the Conductor part, that’s more saying the lines than singing.”

“fine,” Twister replied with an eye roll, and waited for the part, before breaking out into:

 


Lights are gleamin’

Far across the snow,

You’re not dreaming!

May I present:

THE NORTH POLE!

 


If it’s penguins you expect a view,

You surely haven’t guessed;

They all live down at the other end.

It’s a simple fact, we stay on track,

Though, sometimes, we digress,

But that can only happen on THE POLAR EXPRESS!

 


He sat back down, a small smile on his face now, as the song was finished, and the car descended back into indistinct chatter. Outside, a water tower could be seen, with Grand Rapids lit up on the side.

 

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Twister was drifting off to sleep, one of the last to do so, when the conductor’s loud AHEM over the PA system snapped him, and some others, out of their slumbers. Those still sleeping got pokes and elbows and utters of ‘something’s happening!’

“We are now approaching the Straits of Mackinac, which separates the upper and lower peninsulas. Most get across this 4-mile gap by way of the Mackinac Bridge, which is not only the longest water crossing in the Western Hemisphere, but is also home to the longest single-span suspension bridge in the United States. But, we will not be using this bridge, as it would not support the train. you will be able to view the bridge on the right side of your car.”

Everyone raced to the right side, as the clickety-clack became more hollow-sounding, and the trees and little lakeside houses ended, and a seemingly endless expanse of ice started.

Twister was the only one still sitting; he had seen the Mackinac bridge from the air before, when he and his family had done a national tour. He felt the train slow some; checking the speedometer on his phone, he saw they had dropped to 65mph. Probably don’t want to risk breaking the ice, he thought.

 

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1.5 miles away…

The Cort, the oldest 1,000-foot Great Lakes Freighter on the waters, was breaking up the relatively thin ice for this time of year, aided by a full load of Wisconsin iron ore, and was aiming for the Mackinac bridge. 

The captain, in manual control, was not surprised when his radar started blipping; it was a little early, but it was surely detecting the bridge. but he was surprised when it started double-blipping, and finally taking a glance, saw a line, maybe three-quarter-miles long, extending towards the south peninsula at a 90-degree angle to the Cort.

“what the….?” The captain mumbled, as the radar stick went around again, showing that the line was moving rapidly on a collision course with his ship. Whipping his head up, he scanned the ice; he couldn’t see whatever was yet, but still flipped on all the navigation and conventional lights, and reached over for the horn.

Back on the Polar Express…

Twister looked up sharply; he had seen out the left window navigation lights for a ship. He saw a second later many more lights illuminate a massive ore freighter, which Twister could see was loaded by how low it was.

Standing up and pointing, he yelled, “LOOK!” Everyone turned, saw the lights, and then everyone both heard and felt the ship’s horn. The train jolted a the engineer, 1,100 feet ahead, applied full throttle; apparently, he either thought he could get past, or simply couldn’t stop in time.

The conductor burst through the rear door of the car, jogged to the front, and didn’t slow as he barged through the door on the other end.

The ship horn blew again, and the engineer blew his horn in response; it was in a pattern that sounded like it was saying “okay! Okay! I’m moving!”

Despite rapidly accelerating, it didn’t look like they were going to make it past, until the ship started turning toward the southern Michigan peninsula (the mitten one), and the opposite direction of the train. 

The 30 seconds it took for the train to pass were filled with anticipation as to whether the train would be hit or missed.

It was missed, but only by 100 yards, and the kids in the last car, an observation car, which the end was a complete glass bubble with only a few structural beams, got a perfect view of the ice breaking apart, and the tracks being bent and snapping. 

They were going to have to find another way back. 

 


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“well, now I can’t wait to get up there,” Twister said to Angela, who nodded in agreement. Steven announced his agreement quite loudly from across the aisle as the train jolted to a stop in another cookie-cutter neighborhood, one of many to come. The same scenario of the kid dashing outside, meeting the conductor, and getting the ‘THIS IS THE POLAR EXPRESS!’ Spiel happened again and again, with varying reactions. overall, almost no one refused to get on, and when the train crossed the frozen river, the amount of kids getting on dramatically increased. One kid, a local, kept pointing out landmarks and attraction as the train crawled through the snow-covered mini-city.

To Twister’s surprise, as the houses dwindled, the tracks didn’t appear back on a highway; instead, endless farm fields closed in on both sides as the 4-lane city street shrunk down to a 2-lane country highway buried in almost a foot of snow.

Occasional stops in little farm towns and lone farms broke up the 118-mph speed runs, most of which lasted at least 30 minutes.

Suddenly, the road turned, but the train didn’t. Tracks extended off into a forest, partly pine, but mostly leafless trees, and disappeared into the snow. Twister only knew this because he had seen it a few seconds ago when he had stuck his head out the window to try and catch a snowflake.

 

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

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fixed it, I think

Chapter 4: bridges? Who needs bridges?

 


The Polar Express raced across the Michigan state line, the conductor announcing this over the PA system. Soon after, someone in Twister’s car started humming the tune to The Polar Express, and before they even got to the second verse, the whole car had joined in, except for Twister, who still had wisps of steam curling out of his nostrils.

Angela, belting out the lines with everyone else, elbowed him, and paused to say, “C’mon, join in! At least do the Conductor part, that’s more saying the lines than singing.”

“fine,” Twister replied with an eye roll, and waited for the part, before breaking out into:

 


Lights are gleamin’

Far across the snow,

You’re not dreaming!

May I present:

THE NORTH POLE!

 


If it’s penguins you expect a view,

You surely haven’t guessed;

They all live down at the other end.

It’s a simple fact, we stay on track,

Though, sometimes, we digress,

But that can only happen on THE POLAR EXPRESS!

 


He sat back down, a small smile on his face now, as the song was finished, and the car descended back into indistinct chatter. Outside, a water tower could be seen, with Grand Rapids lit up on the side.

The train started slowing as it came to its first stop in the 2nd largest city in Michigan. The conductor walked through the door, going seat to seat and collecting tickets. When he got to Twister’s seat, he took his ticket (which had magically appeared in Twister’s jacket pocket), and started punching. 

“pretty good job singing there,” he commented.

“thanks,” Twister replied, in-between trying to spit a scrap of paper out of nostril, before burning it in annoyance. “by the way, I noticed the song lyrics were more reminiscent of a steam engine, but this train is pulled by 6 diesels. What happened to the original engine?”

“it’s at the north pole, in a place of honor. Honor that it deserves, I might add,” the Conductor said with a twinkle in his eye, before moving on down the car.

“well, now I can’t wait to get up there,” Twister said to Angela, who nodded in agreement. Steven announced his agreement quite loudly from across the aisle as the train jolted to a stop in another cookie-cutter neighborhood, one of many to come. The same scenario of the kid dashing outside, meeting the conductor, and getting the ‘THIS IS THE POLAR EXPRESS!’ Spiel happened again and again, with varying reactions. overall, almost no one refused to get on, and when the train crossed the frozen river, the amount of kids getting on dramatically increased. One kid, a local, kept pointing out landmarks and attraction as the train crawled through the snow-covered mini-city.

To Twister’s surprise, as the houses dwindled, the tracks didn’t appear back on a highway; instead, endless farm fields closed in on both sides as the 4-lane city street shrunk down to a 2-lane country highway buried in almost a foot of snow.

Occasional stops in little farm towns and lone farms broke up the 118-mph speed runs, most of which lasted at least 30 minutes.

Suddenly, the road turned, but the train didn’t. Tracks extended off into a forest, partly pine, but mostly leafless trees, and disappeared into the snow. Twister only knew this because he had seen it a few seconds ago when he had stuck his head out the window to try and catch a snowflake.

As the tree line flashed outside the window, the conductor came over the PA again, announcing that they were entering Huron-Manistee National Forest, and that in an hour and a half, Lake Michigan would be within sight. 

The train wound through picture-perfect hills and valleys, and Twister got several shots that would win art contests. All the while, the plow on the lead engine was sending snow cascading on either side of the train, and it was working hard, but the train never even slowed, as the wind had piled the snow on the downhill side (towards lake Michigan), and the momentum and gravity bashed any tough resistance.

As the train topped the last hill, Lake Michigan, frozen except for the shipping channels, came into view. Everyone rushed to one side of the train, eager to see the most well-known great lake.

Once again, small towns were the main view out the window, but these were more fishing towns, and the train wound up the coast at a blazing speed, the snow getting deeper as it powered north.

Twister was drifting off to sleep, one of the last to do so, when the conductor’s loud AHEM over the PA system snapped him, and some others, out of their slumbers. Those still sleeping got pokes and elbows and utters of ‘something’s happening!’

“We are now approaching the Straits of Mackinac, which separates the upper and lower peninsulas. Most get across this 4-mile gap by way of the Mackinac Bridge, which is not only the longest water crossing in the Western Hemisphere, but is also home to the longest single-span suspension bridge in the United States. But, we will not be using this bridge, as it would not support the train. you will be able to view the bridge on the right side of your car.”

Everyone raced to the right side, as the clickety-clack became more hollow-sounding, and the trees and little lakeside houses ended, and a seemingly endless expanse of ice started.

Twister was the only one still sitting; he had seen the Mackinac bridge from the air before, when he and his family had done a national tour. He felt the train slow some; checking the speedometer on his phone, he saw they had dropped to 65mph. Probably don’t want to risk breaking the ice, he thought.

1.5 miles away…

The Cort, the oldest 1,000-foot Great Lakes Freighter on the waters, was breaking up the relatively thin ice for this time of year, aided by a full load of Wisconsin iron ore, and was aiming for the Mackinac bridge. 

The captain, in manual control, was not surprised when his radar started blipping; it was a little early, but it was surely detecting the bridge. but he was surprised when it started double-blipping, and finally taking a glance, saw a line, maybe three-quarter-miles long, extending towards the south peninsula at a 90-degree angle to the Cort.

“what the….?” The captain mumbled, as the radar stick went around again, showing that the line was moving rapidly on a collision course with his ship. Whipping his head up, he scanned the ice; he couldn’t see whatever was yet, but still flipped on all the navigation and conventional lights, and reached over for the horn.

Back on the Polar Express…

Twister looked up sharply; he had seen out the left window navigation lights for a ship. He saw a second later many more lights illuminate a massive ore freighter, which Twister could see was loaded by how low it was.

Standing up and pointing, he yelled, “LOOK!” Everyone turned, saw the lights, and then everyone both heard and felt the ship’s horn. The train jolted a the engineer, 1,100 feet ahead, applied full throttle; apparently, he either thought he could get past, or simply couldn’t stop in time.

The conductor burst through the rear door of the car, jogged to the front, and didn’t slow as he barged through the door on the other end.

The ship horn blew again, and the engineer blew his horn in response; it was in a pattern that sounded like it was saying “okay! Okay! I’m moving!”

Despite rapidly accelerating, it didn’t look like they were going to make it past, until the ship started turning toward the southern Michigan peninsula (the mitten one), and the opposite direction of the train. 

The 30 seconds it took for the train to pass were filled with anticipation as to whether the train would be hit or missed.

It was missed, but only by 100 yards, and the kids in the last car, an observation car, which the end was a complete glass bubble with only a few structural beams, got a perfect view of the ice breaking apart, and the tracks being bent and snapping. 

They were going to have to find another way back. 

 


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oh COME ON

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JOHN DEERE IS BEST TRACTOR

 OH MY FLYING GUAVAS -fairydragon 2019

    1 ,