Wow, you guys are awesome! Thank you all so much for the kind words about last chapter. I tried my best with something that was...not really that great, if I'm brutally honest, and I'm glad that you got at least some enjoyment out of this!
Oh, fun fact before I get to the reviews. That reference I made to a previous year's Best Kept Station contest? That's a reference to an audio cassette that was released in the 90's, a sing-along story called Thomas and the Best Kept Station Competition.
Reality Rejection Service- Possibly!
Bronze Shield- Thanks! Glad you enjoyed.
Game-Watch- It is that. Hopefully you stick with it, easier times are coming.
Train Maniac- You're too kind! Thank you very much!
CUE THE THEME.
"This is insane!"
Mr Benn didn't say or do anything as Alias strode back and forth in anger.
"I mean, she just ignored us! I'm used to it, of course, but I would have thought that she would have listened to you, at the very least, Catweazle!" Meredith's concerns were brushed aside by the other wizard, who appeared to be deep in thought.
"Okay, but why exactly is this so bad?" Carlin coughed, scratching at a rather nasty rash that had come about thanks in no small part to the itchy clothing he wore. "Fine, I get that she went against the rules that you made, but what's so bad about making more steam engines?"
"Okay, Carlin, let me put it to you this way. You've got an all powerful spirit possessing a large mechanical beast that you have no idea how to control, and she is, shall we say, a little ambivalent on the whole humanity idea. She's got the viewpoint of someone who seems to be immortal, and she's surrounded by an even angrier bunch of Old Ones who also constantly argue about whether or not they need humans at all. Then imagine that they've got the ability to make an entire army to attack the humans with, especially in an era where, to be blunt, the technology isn't that great."
Carlin considered what Benn had said. "Well, when you put it like that-"
"OOOH, dear!" wailed Willo with some great amount of over the top hamming about. "Luvvies, you'll never guess who I saw!"
"Sid James?"
"No, you goose! It's Godred! And he's marching toward us with a whole army and some bloody great thing with a claw! It looks like it can do some major damage!" Willo grinned. "Well, save for me, of course. Already being dead has it's advantages!"
"Oh come on!" scoffed Alias. "It can't be that bad-"
Which was when the roof caved in.
"All right," admitted Alias after five minutes of silence as they scrabbled about to ready a counter-attack "Maybe it can."
Lady and Proteus rushed into the main area. "What the blazes-!?"
"An attack!" snapped Catweazle, unwilling to deal with Proteus's anger and bull-headedness at this point. "Lady, it is Godred. He has an army, and some sort of-"
"I saw." Lady was calm and precise. Almost a little too calm, if Carlin was honest with himself. "The Warship. That's what they call it, the great machine with the claw. Godred's magicians mentioned it when we went for 'negotiations'. Supposedly it is a mechanical beast operated by men, a killing machine that can wipe out scores of we rail-riders."
She paused. "Shall we test that theory?"
...
"GRRRR, RAW, I AM PERCY, FEAR ME!"
"Shut up!" snapped Percy as he banged into Rickety, and stormed into the shed area, with his usual sense of calm and decorum (Read: None). He was feeling put upon, and would complain to the high heavens about it, regularly. "I'M FEELING PUT UPON!" He bellowed to Thomas on this day.
Thomas was confused. "Put upon what, the rails?"
"You know, sometimes I'm not sure if you're being sarcastic or serious with these statements."
"That could easily be applied to you as well, Percy."
"Fair point. No, I'm being put upon with too much work! It's horrible! Day and night, night and day, and all the other times that AREN'T night or day! It's a bloody nightmare! Driver agrees with me, and he's probably a sociopath in training, so things must be bad!"
"Oh, just get on with it, Percy. Put upon indeed. What a stupid phrase!"
"YOU'RE A STUPID PHRASE!"
"A stupid phrase who has his own TV show and merchandise through the wazoo!"
"I hate you."
"I know."
Annie and Clarabel liked it, however, and as they were pulled away, they sang about it. Loudly. And if you can recall what original and thought provoking lyrics we've had from them before, well, get ready for this. "Percy's been put upon, put upon, put upon, Percy's been put upon, poor old Percy! Teehee!"
"I'll TEEHEE YOU! And who was that playing the tambourine in the background?!" Gordon's fireman through his tambourine off screen and whistled innocently. "Besides, Percy is put upon! I am, I am, I am!"
"You are, what?"
"ET TU, DUCK?!"
...
The following day saw Percy enjoy all of these wonderful jobs and collect the following.
-Metal from the foundry, where the two diesels working there looked at him like a butcher might a prize calf.
-Coal from the yards, which resulted in him getting mocked and referred to as Percy Coal Face for the rest of the day by Sir Handel, who was very unoriginal.
-Flour from the mills, which was eaten halfway through the journey by a very hungry Baldwin.
-Rock from the quarries, whereupon Toby ignored any attempts at reconciliation yet again.
-Fuel from the depot. Thankfully, Bill and Ben were nowhere near it.
Then he had to shunt the whole lot into one long train at the docks, and then he had to go and deal with James for the rest of the day. It was not a good experience for the poor Saddletank.
In between these two horrible events, he headed off to get some empty trucks, to be filled up with beer kegs for BoCo's farewell do, which had been pushed back, not for the first time, to next week. The trucks were in a foul mood, not helped by the Spiteful Brakevan stirring things up something fierce.
"Who is this dirty little engine!? He looks like a prat!"
"We want Thomas, or Duck! At least they're interesting!"
"PAH!" said Percy, and ignored them as he started off "Put upon, PUT UPON, that's what I am! I am not getting paid enough for this!"
By the time he was done overall, he was exhausted. It had rained hard during his work with James, and the gleaming red berk had hidden under a tarpaulin while Percy had had to get all the things ready. He was miserable and tired and he wanted some sympathy.
He was in the wrong place.
"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" laughed the engines.
"We can see what's been put upon you, Percy!"
"Why you were put upon this earth, I have no idea!"
"SCHILENCE!" bellowed the Fat Controller, who had drunken a lot, and had therefore lost brief control over his mouth and tongue. "Percy, well done for today, you've actually done some work unlike these assholes. Get a good night's sleep."
"Thank you sir! Yes sir!" Percy grinned at the others, weakly. "See?! He appreciates me!"
"For tomorrow, you're going to be doing even more work!"
"OH SCREW YOU SIR!"
...
RING RING.
RING RING.
RING RING.
RING-
Click
"Hello?"
"..."
"Hello?"
"...m...m-m-m-"
"Look, if this is a prank call, trust me, you've picked the wrong bitch to send it to! I will tear your asunder if you try and get me to say something stupid! My driver is holding this phone up to my...well, to my lack of ears, where they would be if I had any, and he looks mighty peeved off! He wants to go home, so why are you-"
"Mavis, it's me."
"What the-...Toby?!"
"Can...can you just head over to the quarry please, I think something's wrong."
"Toby, what's happened? Are you hurt? Has someone-"
"Mavis, I appear to be bleeding. Quite a lot. Uh, I wouldn't normally bother you with this, but it was all I could do to get the driver to calm down and ring you up, and I'd really appreciate it if you came over and helped me out a moment, because I'm actually trying not to start screaming and crying, and I really don't want to make a tit of myself on the phone-"
"I'll be there right now, hang on, Toby!"
"T-t-thanks. Sorry Mave."
CLICK.
...
The next day, Percy took some trucks to the coal yard. He was cold and cross. There had been a leak in the shed during the night, and James had insisted that Percy swap places with him so as not to get wet. Percy had been too tired to argue with him, and had thus spent the night enduring an annoying Chinese Water Torture. Then, grumbling and muttering rebelliously as he did, he pushed the empty trucks to the mine shaft not too far from the new quarry.
When he arrived, there was of course trouble. The foreman hurried up the driver who had once again made sure he was clean shaven. This could change at any moment, folks! "Minor problem, lads."
"Oh, you have just been sitting on that joke for ages, haven't you?"
"Perhaps. Anyway, the trucks up ahead are stuck on a mechanism. Some of my men got a bit drunk and drove the power equipment into the caverns. All they need is a good push and they'll be freed."
"We'll do it right away!" said the driver, who was aware that the formula Percy+Trucks+A Mine was just asking for trouble, but it was boring recently, so why the hell not let Percy have this one?
Now, unfortunately for them, what they didn't realize was that the lead truck was one S.C Ruffey, rebuilt and reduced in stature following the events at the Callan shunting yard. He had become a pariah among the trucks, for being defeated by an engine, and worse still, not even having the decency to die like a good truck should. He had stayed in the yard, growing bitterer and bitterer, until Marklin had whispered in his ear, promises of being restored to his original splendid form.
All he had to do was gather together a few trucks for the upcoming war.
And so the former private wagon saw his chance now to make a grand statement to the world, that S.C Ruffey was back and this time, he wasn't going to fail. To this end, he told the trucks to relax their brakes, and to be prepared for some real fun stuff.
Percy had backed off sufficiently for the charge, to a point where a large canvas barrier had been installed to protect the line from loose rocks and falling China Clay Twins (Don't ask, it's a long story), and so he prepared to puff as fast as he could.
With a roar of "THEY MAY TAKE OUR DIGNITY, BUT THEY'LL NEVER TAKE OUR FREEDOM!" (And they say Mel Gibson did a poor Scottish accent, you haven't heard bad Scottish accents until you've heard Percy's) he rushed forward, banging into the trucks (MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, PLEASE). To some extent, this worked, the trucks were freed from the mechanism.
A little too free for everyone's liking.
"Oh no, there goes more pay rise!" Percy wailed, as the trucks rattled down the line through the mine with great abandon.
"ON ON, FASTER FASTER, RISE UP, DOWN WITH THE COAL GUZZLERS!" shouted the silly trucks, led by the silly S.C Ruffey on their way to a silly doom.
And then, of course, there was trouble. Again.
"Ohhhhhh I really should have thought this through!" shouted the lead idiot, as he rammed face first into one of the support beams. For a moment, nothing happened, and the trucks thought that they had gotten away with it.
And then the mine began to shake.
"Oooooh er!" said S.C Ruffey, weakly realizing that perhaps his statement would have worked better had he not decided that a very unstable mineshaft was the place to carry it out. The sirens began to sound as the tunnel began to collapse in upon itself, burying the trucks, who began to curse the former private wagon in front of them with great fury.
"OUT OF THE WAY! THE MINE'S COLLAPSING! MERCY ME! WHAT A TO-DO! WE'RE DOOMED!" wailed one of the workmen, doing his best Frazier from Dad's Army impersonation.
Percy sniffed. The air had a strange smell to it. "Hang about, what smells like gunpowder-"
At which point the entrance to the mine blew up and sent smoke rushing into Percy's face. Wheezing and spluttering, the little green engine began to back away, hacking out only the words "-WHY...WHY IS THERE GUNPOWDER IN THERE?!"
"I don't know, and we're going to have to have a serious talk with Sir Topham Hatt about the safety laws on this Island! But before that, we have to make a run for it!"
"There's going to be an avalanche!"
"Oh gee, thanks Percy, I had no idea that was going to happen until you told me!" snapped his driver as he began to reverse Percy backwards. Unfortunately, the charge at the trucks had taken a lot of energy out of the engine, and they progressed backwards slower than they should have been. Then, as the ground shook and Percy began to bounce up and down like a Mexican Jumping Bean on a pogo stick, he remembered something he had seen earlier.
"THE CANVAS BARRIER! BY THE TRACK! THAT MIGHT SAVE US!"
"Good thinking, Percy!"
"Don't sound so surprised!" he snapped. The rock from the mountain had created a large bank of earth just behind the canvas barrier. With a great wheeze, Percy hid behind the barrier just in time. They were just in time, the rocks were falling down with such speed and ferocity that they would have taken the head clean off any human walking about, and with a great groaning sound, the canvas barrier toppled backwards onto Percy and his crew, covering them from the rocks.
Once the chaos was quite over, and the miners could be convinced that they would get paid extra for this, they rushed to the large pile of rock and rubble where the canvas barrier had been.
"The avalaunche has buried an engine and it's crew! We should help them immediately!"
Immediately, as it turns out, was 'right after we have a tea break and order some fast food, just in case', in which case, they started two hours after the initial cave-in. Thomas and Duck assisted with the rescue, and once all three were freed, the Fat Controller spoke to driver and fireman, praised them for their bravery and then turned to Percy.
"Driver told me how brave you were, even though you technically caused the accident in the first place, so I'm kind of sort of very proud of you! As a reward, you shall go to the works and be repainted! Yes, I'm rewarding you for the destruction of a mine that took two years to construct properly with a holiday!"
"Oh, thank you, sir!"
"Don't suck up to me, Percy, I imagine that this won't last long." Hatt sniffed the air. "Hmmm, is it just me, or there rain coming in?"
...
When Percy returned, his paint glistened in the sunshine like something else that is also bright when the sun reflects on it, I don't know, I'm no genius when it comes to metaphors.
"Sorry we teased you! You were certainly...put upon, by that avalanche." Thomas said through gritted teeth. Toby had talked Thomas into making up with Percy, even if he at present couldn't. Thomas didn't dwell on the fact that Toby's cheeks looked pinched and drawn and pale, and the fact that he was spending most of his time getting checkups for certain things. He just assumed that it was Toby being Toby.
"How long have you been sitting on that joke?"
"Ages. Literally ages."
"Well, look at my paint! Not to go all James on you, but that I don't mind being put upon me!"
At which point, the rain, which had been taking a break, began to pour down again.
And it would continue like that for the next few weeks.
...
Magic is a very complicated thing.
It is hard to effectively explain it to someone who has not experienced it. There is no scientific reasoning for it, there is no way of measuring it, it's an unknown quantity even to those who wield it. However, in the interest of perhaps explaining the events that follow, these are some of the basic laws.
1: Everyone has some form of magic inside of them. Anything and everything that has a soul has a connection, however small, to a magic that no one can really explain.
2: Not everyone can use that magic. For most ordinary people, like you reading this right now, it's a dormant thing, lying in the background. Some of the world's most shocking feats, feats that make no sense given the normal rules of the universe, are a result of magic pulsing up briefly to allow the person it resides in to do the impossible. But these are the exception, rather than the rule.
3: The lines of 'white' and 'black' magic are constantly shifting and changing along with the social norms and niceties of the time. For example, using your magic to heal a person of an affliction was, in the times of Salem and the plague, considered to be an art of great wickedness, but is generally classed as white magic. Generally, such descriptions are not used as much anymore. Magic cannot make you evil. Only the person can change who they are. In most cases.
4: Magic is a lot like energy, in that it cannot be created or destroyed. For whatever reason, it has existed long before the universe was created, and will exist long after it has been destroyed. There are ways to spread magic out so thinly that it gives the appearance of being no more, but there is no way to outright eliminate it completely.
5: There are two ways to increase your power. You can hone it, practice it, learn all about it and how to achieve new levels that can make you more and more powerful, usually by drawing on the magic that surrounds you...or there is the second, and more unpleasant, way of doing so.
6: When a body dies, it's soul stays alive, and the magic is released into the world It has been argued, by people who have yet to practice this in general, that upon the release of a soul from the body of someone, you can, in theory, use a secret power that no mortal on this planet has yet to uncover, capture the soul, and use it's magic to bolster your own.
The Fat Director didn't have magic that he could use, not in the sense that some like Catweazle and Meredith could use it. But he did have a keen knowledge of the more complicated stuff, runes and charms, and ways of capturing magic to make it serve his own will. He knew the idea of capturing souls and using them as a power source wasn't going to work because no one mortal knew the spell.
Which was where the Malevolence came in.
Hidden deep inside Ulfstead Castle was the second half of the Malevolence's being. In a dark room that had been re-purposed as, of all things, a wine cellar, stood an area that no one had been able to explain. Long, complicated and bizarre scratchings upon the ground had long since frustrated even the arcane masters that Godred had applied as his sorcerers and advisers, and Godred grew angrier and angrier that no matter what they tried, they couldn't them from the ground. Attempts at laying down cobblestones had resulted in them burning up, anything that touched them scorched and burned within seconds.
It was a warning, and a prison. The Malevolence was trapped deep within the very Island itself, festering and viciously plotting how to get out. The Island's own magic was keeping it restrained as well, but it could not stop the creature thinking hard.
"I don't get it! When!? When, when, when!?"
At heart, thought the Fat Director with grim satisfaction, Godred was a child. He wanted his wishes to be granted now, and only now, with no thought of patience or the benefit of stepping back and thinking things through. Which made it all the easier to manipulate him. Since he had dropped off the Malevolence that now resided inside Marklin to it's rightful place in history, he and the Captain had travelled back to the first colonization of Sodor, taking up the role as chief adviser to Godred, advising him on how to approach the situation with Lady and her people.
And all the while, studying how to break down the seal that trapped his master in this Island.
"Patience, sire. We are approaching the end. The crown's loss is the pretext we have needed to march upon Great Waterton and slaughter them all! Once we retrieve the crown, your crown, we shall be able to break the seal and you shall have power unrivaled!"
Godred's eyes shone with the promise of the power. But then he faltered. "But...even your great magic, oh wise one, will not be able to kill a God! How do you propose that we defeat such creatures!?"
The Fat Director smiled. He had long since known that the battle was doomed. Godred and Lady's forces would tear each other apart, crippling each other and ending with the 'victory' of Lady's alliance of Misfit Minions. This was a distraction to make sure that the castle was left completely unguarded while he conducted the first step in the breaking free of the Malevolence's second half.
To that end, he had even created something that would become part of Sudrian history for a lifetime, a mechanical monstrosity that, while certainly deadly and a world-ender in the right hands, would eventually fall in battle. It resembled a rather large diesel, faceless and without any defining marks save for a grey coloration, and a single claw, made from raw materials.
"This, my liege, is the Warship. It'll carry you well!"
Godred nodded, light in his eyes. "Then tonight...it ENDS!" And on this dramatic sentence, he stormed out of the room to prepare his armor, his horse and his getaway route should things go south. The Fat Director was left alone besides the runes, to think and ponder.
But not for long.
"Ach, can we just go now!?"
"Ah, Zero, how'd it go?"
The Captain glowered for a moment, then pulled out a bag and rummaged around in it. "I cannae believe ye made me go through all those horseshit traps just ta get this stupid piece of jewelry! What's even the point of stealing this!?" He pulled out the crown and glared at it angrily.
"We needed a reason to force Godred to war, and to force Lady and her ilk out into the open. History records that this is how it goes, that Godred and Lady shall work together to begin the peaceful coalition between humanity and enginekind." The Fat Director shrugged. "Obviously, the history books are full of shit. The crown gets both sides angry at each other. Now, hush."
He got on his knees and leaned in as close as he could to the rune. "Hello down there."
There was a pause, and though neither men had any real understanding or control of magic, they couldn't help but feel that the thing down there had suddenly stopped what it was doing.
"You can hear us, can't you?"
The Malevolence seemed to be considering something. Zero bit back the whimper that was making it's way up his throat and grabbed hold of the wall to prevent the urge to run away from overwhelming him.
"Now then, don't worry about the other part of you. I bet you're feeling a bit incomplete at the moment, aren't you? Like magnets, you're drawn to each other. So with most of you trapped down there, you must be chomping at the bit to get out and finish them all off."
The Maleovlence growled in approval.
"Now, unfortunately, I am unable to free you at the present time. Not only am I not magically inclined, the only wizards in the area are pesky do-gooders, which I imagine would make it rather hard to convince them to release you. But don't mistake my words for a sign of giving up. We just need to be patient." He smiled. "In the year 1953, you'll meet someone. Someone who will run up here, cursing a man by the name of Burnett Stone, saying things that he thinks he doesn't really mean. And all you have to do is show him that he does mean it."
Silence.
Captain Zero imagined that, if there was a way to take a physical form, the Malevolence would be grinning at this point.
"His name-" said the Fat Director, in a theatrical whisper "-is P.T Boomer. And you and he are going to become very, very good friends."
Hey, so you know what's fun? I'm getting ever so closer to the Magic Railroad. You know what else is cool? Remember way back in Season 2 where I introduced Boomer for the first time and I was trying to make him into this threatening bad guy?
Yeah. That has...yet to happen.
The good thing though is that we've got the next episode, Toby's Flood, in which I'll wrap up the Godred story arc, hopefully, and then take Carlin onto his next destination. That next destination? Well, it's a bit of a secret, but hopefully it'll be easier to write. But whatever it is, it gives me more time to begin writing more P.T Boomer stuff, because I really do want him to have a large role in Magic Railroad.
Hope you liked my explanation of how magic works in this universe. It's...It was a necessary evil to explain how exactly the Malevolence can get so powerful in later episodes. Next episode's also going to see an update on Gotch and the Juggernaut, which should be fun.
And, that's pretty much it. Have a great day, see y'all next time!