Prompt 18: Dance
Emmet wiped the sweat from his brow, slowly ensuring that the last bolt was firmly in its position before scooting back to admire his handiwork. The entire day had been spent meticulously pouring over a train cab that had been needing service for some time after suffering an onslaught of ice. And by using his work time to fix the cab, Emmet himself felt well-maintained and ship-shape as though having come fresh off the assembly line himself.
Emmet carefully took a step away from the unfinished cab, laying his tools on the detached cloth seat he'd been sitting on as he carefully stepped through the gutted cab and onto the rocky railyard where the sound of gravel and ballast shifting underfoot quickly lifted his mood.
Steam and smoke rose in lazy circles from the Anville Railyard. Other locomotive engineers moved back-and-forth across the semi-noisy yard, hearty conversations filtering through the air as they each lugged their toolbags after them. Each worker would stop and raise a welcoming hand to Emmet as he passed them, tipping their hats but without words. After all, Emmet wasn't a man for words or small talk; he just needed a break before he got back to work.
In the shade of the engine house, Emmet peeled off his backup cap, leaned against the tin wall, and took a deep drink of water, wiping the excess away with an oil-stained sleeve. Today has been a great day. I have been here for hours maintaining the same car. I am making progress! Emmet moved further back into the recess of the engine house, finding a spare chair to sit in as he took off his stained gloves and checked his Xtransceiver, crossing one leg over another.
A message or two from the group chat he shared with Elesa and Skyla. A note from Ingo about his brother potentially departing from his battling line early to buy some sandwiches from a popular deli spot not too far from Nimbasa City. Emails from his subordinates about new paperwork sent in from the mayor of Nimbasa City. Emmet only rolled his eyes and turned off his Xtransceiver, allowing his gaze to rest on the many disconnected freight cars that littered the rail yard.
Things are finally back in order. And. I am not so stressed anymore. Emmet smiled a bit wider when a familiar pokémon lumbered into the engine house, the amber gems studded along its body glowing as the rock-type pokémon clattered over to Emmet and easily lifted him onto its back.
"Boldore. You are not a chair!" Emmet scolded playfully.
Emmet's Boldore often remained at the railyard and much like its trainer, would spend almost the entire day staring at the trains and studying them when idle. And Boldore, sensing that its trainer had been taking too long of a break, began stumbling out of the engine house with Emmet atop its back. Emmet only rolled his eyes and leaned back, allowing himself to be carried back to the cab he'd been working on without so much as a fuss.
Working with engines and cabs was mindless. Fun, even. Emmet saw the work not like he saw battling. Battling came down to strategy, luck, and power. But assembly and engineering? Those were based on skill. Intellect. Patterns. Emmet knew every tool that could be used to both deconstruct and reassemble the axle and undercarriage of a Knickerbocker. He knew the blueprints of the wirings of a Juniata like he knew the back of his hands. Emmet had memorized the unique coupling mechanisms of the Saluki and he knew exactly what kind of oil worked best for engines like the Shavano and the Steel King.
Emmet usually performed best without talking. And on his days spent at the railyard, he let his hands do all the talking, the way he could seamlessly work and twist and reach, performing intricate but mindless dances with his hands and fingers as Emmet never faltered or forgot the smallest of screws. Each silencing of a creaky joint through the application of oil was like music to his ears. He counted faraway train whistles and nearly skipped when he heard them, listening idly when new beaten up cabs were dragged in and the pistons of the dragging train surged against the metal of the train tracks, audible for miles around.
Metal clacked. Rocks shifted. Emmet turned, his smile widening as he sighted a familiar Klinklang float over to the door of the cab he was situated in. And then came a familiar man.
"Boss Emmet! It's time to start wrapping things up!" Emmet paused as a familiar face pokéd into the cab he was working in, the depot agent tipping his oil-stained hat to Emmet as the man took a careful step inside. The man then whistled. "Nice job, boss! At this rate, you'll have this old cab up and running by next week!"
"Thank you verrry much, Josh!" Emmet grunted as he got to his feet, grimacing upon hearing something in his back give. "...Not a word."
Depot Agent Josh laughed heartily at the notion, reaching down to grab Emmet by the backstrap of his suspenders. "Not to worry. Your secret's safe with me, bossman. But really. We should get going." Josh gestured at a clipboard he'd been carrying under his arm, tapping one chewed-up pen at the clipped paper. "It's almost midday and we're supposed to be on the car back to Central Unova no later than noon."
Emmet nodded, setting one hand delicately upon his Klingklang's sturdy frame. His pokémon shuddered and whirled, giving a hearty clack before retreating back to its pokéball. "I guess. It is time to report back to Gear Station."
"Good. Nice to know you're on board for once. Almost thought you had left already," Josh commented, patting the excess dust from his stained uniform. "Kept calling and calling for you- no response."
Emmet paused, cocking his head. "Really? I did not hear you."
"I know." Josh shrugged. "You tend to get lost in your work whenever you're here, boss. It's like you're completely deaf to the world whenever you're working with the cars." Josh then nudged Emmet with his elbow, grinning mischievously. "I sometimes think you'd rather be here with the broken cars than back at the station."
"That is… not true." Emmet crossed his arms and turned up his nose, his eyes crinkling when he noticed Josh struggling to keep pace with him. "I simply enjoy the break."
"Right, right. Says the man that hums and whistles when he's elbow-deep in months-old oil."