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magnet train
Topic Started: Jan 20 2014, 03:27 PM (447 Views)
Jin White
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existential mage
Magnet Train

wordcount: 5,017

freeform prompt, courtesy of Mav: "write about trains." "Choo choo," added Jance. // Quarterly contest entry, but don't think about that until the end

summary: the magnet train is a quick shot from ashdell to kevin baconville. when a young traveler - feeling defeated and questioning his own commitment to battling the region's gyms - boards the train, he finds himself approached by a number of passengers who seem to know him better than he knows himself.

i'm striving for a short piece, because i'm better with short pieces (read: get bored easily), but we'll see how it turns out. i also want to make this more dialogue-centric than i'm used to.

- x -

When the Magnet Train arrived at Ashdell Station, like a roaring silver dragon, the city's lights flickered off and left its people glowing under the wash of the waning moon. There was a great deal of commotion as the passengers from across the ocean departed the train, took their bearing of the Ashdell night with a quick swing of their heads, and emerged tugging heavy valises behind them. Their rush to escape the train was met perfectly by the rush of those still waiting to board, as though it would doubtless leave them behind in the next instant, as though shoving through the opposing crowd was the only guarantee against definite abandonment. In the sudden darkness, the voices sounded hollow. The night was eerily still, swamping the people's frantic movement, until the station was clear and the train was full. The city's lights fought weakly to come back to life but the train was already gone.

Meanwhile the train glowed with green light. Its fluorescents were set to a humming yellow, but in this night and against the purple of the October sky the cars were distinctly green. They were filled with a great assortment of people, wearing red hats or blue dresses or ribbons in their hair but it was the midnight train, and the seats were many, so the passengers had space enough to confine themselves with their families or sit by themselves as they wished. Individual passengers took seats against the black windows and enjoyed whole rows without company. The sound of the train flying over its steel tracks dominated the low buzz of conversation, and so overall it was a very comfortable journey, if not a little lonely.

In the sixth car, in the sixth row from the front of the carriage, a young man was sitting by himself with his head against the window. He wore a very sour expression. There was no one else in his row, or even in the rows in front or behind him, and so he was very surprised when another passenger took the seat next to his. The young man by the window was dark in all his features, and thin; this new passenger was bright and red, with curly hair and ruddy cheeks. The latter smelled like cinammon and smoke, had a burning red-and-brown cigarette between his fingers, and was smiling broadly. He put the cigarette between his lips and extended a palm for a handshake.

"Abbie," he said proudly, introducing himself.

The other, darker passenger gave him a troubled glare. He took the man's hand, reluctantly. "Jin."

Abbie took a healthy drag from his cigarette and he stared openly at Jin. A great trail of red smoke wafted in the air around him, between them both. It smelled distinctly like cinnamon, like firewood, and like an old cigar: like Giftmas. "Smoke?" He had a twinkling smile which made the darker gentleman uncomfortable. The red-head waited; Jin took the red cigarette but he refused the proffered red lighter. He fished instead for the white one in his pocket, buried amidst a handful of coins, a single pokéball, and a bit of charcoal.

"Nice sword," said Abbie.

Jin's eyes turned automatically upwards, to the luggage rack overhead. A great bundle of something wrapped in several of Jin's shirts lay over the metal shelf; it was well over two-feet in length, and an ancient-looking hilt protruded from one end. "I thought I was being discrete," muttered Jin, and he lit the red cigarette and took a deep drag. He tasted cinnamon, and tobacco, and something like anise. Red smoke escaped his nose and mouth.

"Not at all," said Abbie, grinning. "Mind if I take a look?"

The younger and darker man hesitated, but he nodded. Abbie stood to pull the bundle down from the rack, giving Jin a good look at him. He was much broader at the chest and shoulders than Jin. His brown leather jacket, his gloves, his faded trousers were all dirt-stained, but hardy. He had thick goggles hanging around his neck by a worn leather strap and they were smoke-stained. "Wow-ee!" he said, loudly, weighing the bundle in his upturned palms. Jin stole a desperate glance around the car; Abbie sat down with his legs spread, the giant katana laid over his lap. He peeled away the old shirts covering the blade. When the glittering silver tongue revealed itself, Abbie whistled in admiration. Jin craned his neck to see. "I'm more of a gunman, myself," said Abbie, robustly, as he turned the sword over in his lap. "Explosives, really. Bit of a pyromaniac." He winked; he was very proud of this fact. "But I can appreciate a well-crafted weapon when I see one. Where did you find this blade? Sharper than a bitch's tongue, isn't it?"

Now it was Jin's turn to soften. His dark furrow widened, and he looked to Abbie with a child's expression of hope. "Black Pass..." He leaned in, searching for any sign of recognition.

"Never heard of it," said Abbie. Disappointment and the dark mask fell back in place over Jin's eyes, and in the set of his jaw. He turned to look out the window: the blackness showed towering silhouettes of the Ashdell mountains, in the distance. The window reflected twin streaks of red smoke, one from Jin's fingers and the other from Abbie's lips. Jin took a deep drag of his own cigarette and he closed his eyes and he closed himself off. "What are you going to do with it?" Abbie asked, moving the long sword from his lap to Jin's.

"I don't know." His jaw hardly moved, but his eyes were alive. His hand went automatically to the hilt, the other sheathing the long blade in the rags of his clothing. He held the sword in his lap the way a young girl might clasp a necklace from her lover, or the way a mother might hold the head of her child. He drew strength from it. After a pause, as the mountains outside faded for the endless blackness of ocean, he offered: "Going to Kevin Baconville. I'll have to get a sheath."

"When are you going home?" Abbie's gold-green eyes punctured the dim overhead lighting. They shone in the black pane of the window. They were inescapable, and they were fueled by the impenetrable spirit of laughter. The question made Jin recoil; his own dark eyes sharpened and narrowed.

"Back to... Hillmoss?"

"Let me ask you something, Jin. What are you doing here? You smell like cheap whiskey and you look like you've been beat up. Not falling back into old habits, are we?" He winked again; that red warmth never left his tone, or his eyes.

"Do I know you? Who are you?" Jin's intent was poison, but the hesitation in his eyes betrayed him.

"I'm Abbie the Mechanic." The simple, confident way he said this was enough to evoke envy, or awe. There was no doubt there, no room for compromise or qualification. Abbie's gaze didn't falter; Jin was drowning in the other man's hazel eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jin White."

Both men took a long drag from their red cigarettes.

"Look, man," said Jin, feeling the smoke somewhere at the forefront of his brain. It was dizzying, much like the red desert that swept endlessly past his window. Snowflakes rushed alongside the breeze of the train, first like white dust, then in thick and heavy puffs that stuck to the landscape. "I'm just trying to get from one place to the other, that's all."

"What if I told you you're not moving? Would you say you already know?"

"I'd say get lost, and leave the cigarettes."

Abbie grinned, and his smile was contagious. The desert in the window reminded Jin of something - he craned his neck for the little square houses he thought should line the horizon, but it was dark too make them out. He took an anxious, heavy drag, let the red smoke collide with the glass pane, and put his forehead to the window. Desert stretched to desert stretched to desert. The sand was copper-red, even under the dark purple night. "Where are you going, then?" Jin asked, to deflect attention.

"Back to the desert, of course. I have work to do." There was no pride in his voice, no judgment or resentment, and yet he made Jin feel suddenly, intensely envious.

"What kind of work?"

Abbie was already getting to his feet. There was a red cord overhead, for emergency stops, which the burly man with the goggles around his neck lifted a thick arm to pull down. The murmur of the other passengers carried on unfazed while the train dropped its reckless speed. "You know I can't tell you," said Abbie, but he saw the hurt in Jin's eyes, saw the way the boy devised a mask of indifference the very next instant. "Hey - I'll tell you when you wake up." He was standing, now, one thick arm still holding the emergency stop cable as he swayed back and forth. His pants were dusted; the goggles around his neck looked worn and scratched; a blazing cigarette hung from his lips. He smiled at Jin White. "Don't forget about me, this time. You've got a whole lot of people rooting for you, waiting for you to come back. Know where you're going, and remember where you came from, Jin."

"What do I do until then?"

"Get strong," said Abbie, and he winked. The train rolled to a gradual stop. The desert spread like a red ocean outside Jin's window. Abbie reached for a black duffel bag and he hoisted it over his shoulder and then he was strolling down the aisle trailing red smoke. Jin pressed his nose to the window and saw nothing but sand: no landmarks, not even a station platform to remember the place. Still the people in the seats ahead and behind kept murmuring, until Abbie was gone, and the train started rolling forward again. There was a flash of fluorescent green light as the magnet train picked up speed, and though Jin peered with his neck twisted at the window he didn't see Abbie again.

Jin folded his arms and made himself small against the cracked leather seat. His cigarette was dead, just a slender red filter, and he stubbed it in an ashtray attached to his armrest. He looked to his left, to Abbie's seat. Jin smiled, because there was a pack of cigarettes left there, and they smelled vaguely like Giftmas.

With his arms crossed, and his head against the window, Jin watched the red desert rise and fall until he fell asleep.

-x-

Jin woke to the sound of his katana falling off his lap and clattering, loudly, over the floor. He bolted upright; the windows were all bright blue and spilling golden daylight; the train was filled with new passengers. He bent down to wrap the blade furtively in its bundle of old shirts, and when he lifted his head, he caught the green eyes of the girl across the aisle.

She was remarkably thin, and she was smiling. She had long black hair that swept in instances over her face, behind her ears, over her shoulders, like a cascade she wasn't aware of. She wore a cotton dress, white with green flowers, and a tough brown vest on top. She had on gloves and boots the same earthy color as her vest. She held her slightly crooked smile, swept a river of hair back fruitlessly, and turned to look out her window.

Jin stared even as he stood up to put the sword in the overhead rack. Her gloved hands were folded over her lap, on a book, and he couldn't see what it was. He stretched in the aisle and yawned, louder than was necessary. He stretched his legs, and then his arms. He almost asked her what book she was reading, but thought better of it. She looked over her shoulder at him - she gave him that crooked curious smile - and he darted back to his seat with a nod. The window showed meadows, blue and green, that rose and fell like yesterday's red dunes. It wasn't noon, yet, but the sun had been up for several hours and it painted the pastoral landscape with soft light. The cirrus clouds stretched into curving feathers as the magnet train roared past. Jin pressed his nose again to the window, peering ahead, but couldn't see the golden sands of Kevin Baconville.

"Excuse me," he called, to the girl with green eyes. She didn't hear him over the hum of rolling steel, fluorescent lighting, and droning lethargic voices, so he said it more loudly.

"Hi."

"Do you know... how much further to Kevin Baconville?"

"To - what?" She furrowed her brow. She had her book open now, a heavy leather-bound tome, and Jin saw how its pages were marked with highlights and a thick scrawl of notes in every margin. She folded it again at her lap. She was reading the Bible.

"Er... nevermind. Where are you headed?"

"Last stop," she said. "I'm just here for the ride. I love these meadows." Her voice was gravel and honey, deep with a sweet affect.

"Are you reading the Bible?"

"You know it?" Her palms tightened around it instinctively. "It's so weird!" she confessed. "I love the part about Jesus."

Jin laughed out loud, and her eyes lit up. "He's a good guy, isn't he?"

"Most of the time," she said with a shrug. "Hey, do you like pokémon?"

"Wha - at?"

"I do, too. I love grass-types. And water-types. Which ones are your favorite?" She slid over one seat, leaving the window to lean over the aisle.

"I guess I never thought about it. Steel-types, maybe. Or Ground-types. Grass-types are good, too."

"That's a lot of types," she offered, and she laughed. He did too, uncomfortable, amazed.

"Why are you reading the Bible?"

"To deconstruct it. Do you remember what it says about pokémon?"

"I don't remember."

"Neither do I." She leafed through it a few times, so that her hair fell like a waterfall over her eyes. Jin saw the meadows passing in the window behind her.

"Look!" he said. "Deer." A herd of spring sawsbuck hurdled across the view.

"Oh, that's right," she said. "They have spirits, like humans, but not like humans. It says we're made of earth and blood, and they're made of light. That's why they get sucked into pokéballs, and humans don't. But if that's all true, why do pokémon bleed?"

"I don't know. Are you trying to convert me?"

"Convert you to what? I'm a heretic."

"All the good ones are." He reached for the packet of red and brown cigarettes that lay in the seat next to him. He fished for one, took the seat by the aisle instead. "Smoke?"

"No, thank you."

"I'm Jin White, by the way."

"Peasant. Michael Peasant, but I go by -"

"Peasant. It's a pleasure." With Abbie's cigarette dangling from his lips, Jin reached out and shook her hand. They were silent for a while, as Peasant's eyes danced with inner thoughts and Jin tried to imagine where her mind went. He wanted to ask her where she came from, but he didn't want to answer in return. He wanted to ask her what she did, where she was born, how old she was, what her dreams were, but he didn't want to have to answer in turn. So he pouted his lips and sucked on his cigarette like a statue while her eyes flitted like emerald butterflies.

"You don't talk a lot, Jin White," she noted.

"No, I don't." He tried not to wince in front of her.

"Are you shy?"

He shook his head. "I used to be shy. Now I'm reserved." She gave him a curious crooked smile, and he puffed heavily on the red cigarette. Smoke billowed from his nostrils and his lips towards the ceiling, which he waved away at once. "I'm fascinated by you," he gave up to her. He watched her fingers clutch the thick tome again, and her mouth turned from hesitation to surprise. Then, he added: "It's hard to talk about someone you don't know."

"You have to learn to open up. Tell me about yourself. Where did you come from? What do you love?"

"No," he asserted, leaning over the aisle. "I want to hear about you, instead."

Peasant tilted her chin up, pushed her shoulders back against the leather seat. Her eyes were dancing. "My mother was a gypsy prostitute," she began. "And my father was a priest. I'm told they loved each other very much. She left us to go travel with her people and she gave me this necklace and my love for dancing. I don't remember her, much. My father died when I was ten years old. He was eaten by a pack of wolves. We lived in a small cabin at the edge of a forest, and the wolves were rabid that year." She paused, only for a second. Her emerald eyes skirted over the pastel landscape. "I lived in the rectory, after that, with another priest who wanted me to call him Father, but I preferred not to. I kept my father's house together. I studied at the rectory and I went into the forest every day to learn to dance on my own. I took my father's sword and danced with it. I can kill a man in the middle of a pirouette. I come from a small town; our policemen are thugs. So are many of the men of the parish. I left the rectory at thirteen on a mission to kill the man who lived there. I failed, and was sent to boarding school. I graduate next year." She folded her hands neatly over her lap, and, like a pool coming to stillness after a great disturbance, her eyes became calm. She looked to Jin White with a soft smile, with her teeth showing. She looked past him at the window while he stared in reverent silence. He saw meadows reflected in her eyes; the flowers gave way to larger shrubs, and then young trees. The red cigarette, dangling limp between Jin's fingers, burning impatiently, found solace at his lips. Jin exhaled with a heavy mind.

'I don't know myself,' he wanted to say, but he let the words turn over in his mind. 'Do you like school? Why did you want to kill the priest? What are you having for dinner? Will you take me with you?' The questions rushed and swam and assaulted the back of his mind but everything crumbled in the face of her completeness, her calmness. 'I don't know myself,' he wanted to offer, but he didn't.

The young trees were studded now with small cabins, outposts, a humble church and a scattering of larger houses. These structures leaned into the woods, were built with them rather than replaced them. The houses were curious marriages of stone and redwood, and as the small town drew nearer, Jin saw a definite rise and fall in Peasant's chest. He puffed on his cigarette; before stubbing it in the ashtray, he used its small red ember to light another. The woods were sparse, here, like red towers that punctuated the rustic town. He barely saw a soul, but for a woman covered in a pale headscarf carrying flowers, and a man in the black outfit of the clergy. He stole another glance at Peasant: her green eyes were sparkling, but still.

"I'll be getting off here," she said, simply. "I hope you learn to trust yourself the way you trust others. It was nice meeting you, Jin White."

"W - wait - I thought you said end of the line? Can't I see you again?"

"This is the end of the line, for me. Talk to the conductor; tell him you're lost. I have to go now."

He didn't know why but as the train slowed down he saw her as an emerald butterfly flitting suddenly away from him. He wanted to reach for her - to stop her, to hold her - but he couldn't catch her, and he couldn't close his palm around her in time. She gathered her Bible and pressed it to her chest, rising to her feet as the train pulled into an old wooden station platform. She gave him her broadest smile yet, and it sent a pang of fear into Jin's heart. 'I don't want to lose this, so soon...' He scrambled, shook his head, thought of jumping off at this station with her but Abbie's voice came back to him and held him in place. 'Know where you're going,' Abbie had said. She watched him curiously, and with the wave of a gloved hand, she was gone.

-x-

He made his way to the front of the train. He was six cars behind, and he stumbled with every sudden turn and jolt of the magnet train, carrying in his hands an awkward bundle of cloth and steel. Several passengers gave him disparaging glances. Every time he looked out the window he saw a new world. The train was moving backwards, now, so that he was trundling upstream. The forest of Peasant's small village bled into a dark and violent jungle. Leaves and branches struck the train's windows like beggars reaching for coins and still the people stared at Jin with dark shadows over their faces. He pushed through one car to the next, gasping as the small vestibule threw him side to side.

Here was Abbie's desert, again. The sands were red, like the smoke, like Abbie's hair, the color of blood and pride. Here was a city now, sprawling amidst the desert, until the desert was a footnote and the city became a metropolis. It glittered silver and blue and Jin didn't understand how he'd missed it, the first time. He plunged from one car to the next. The city faded and now there were only ruins of an old stadium, a Colosseum in disrepair.

The cab was a modest affair. The conductor was more modest, yet. Jin found himself suddenly alone with an older man, short and stocky, with kind blue eyes set behind the beginnings of wrinkles. Here was a man who must have been beautiful in a past life; here was a man who gave up being beautiful, anymore, and resigned himself to being short and stocky and alone in a modest cabin. He turned, when Jin opened the door.

"Jin White?" smiled the conductor. He wore jean overalls, and he had a block of a white name tag over his chest. It spelled "Rex" in three bold letters.

Jin nodded, surprised - yet acquiescent - that the conductor would know each passenger's name. "Hi, I don't want to bother you." The smile he got back, and the soft nod, assured him he wasn't. "I'm... lost. I was trying to get to uhm... I was trying to get to..."

"Where do you live?"

"I don't... I don't really have a home right now. I'm a trainer. A pokémon trainer."

"Do you need a place to stay?"

"A - ah, I'm..." Jin slumped forward with his shoulders, smiled involuntarily. The man had such open blue eyes, a sky with a halo of white clouds, and they brought out the dimples in Jin's cheeks. He stayed silent for a moment, smiling into the other man's eyes, distracted. "I'm okay, for now. I just want to know that I'm going somewhere worth going."

"You can stay on the train as long as you need. Have a seat, Jin." The conductor, Rex, pressed down on a few buttons on the giant metal console in front of him, pulled one heavy lever that made his bicep bulge and strain, and then motioned to the modest white cot that made up the cab's eastern wall. Jin sat upright on the cot, putting the sword in its bundle behind his feet. This setting felt oddly intimate, and oddly familiar.

"You must be starved," said Rex, leaning against the bulky console and crossing his arms. He looked down at Jin with searching, probing affection. "Can I get you something to eat? A sandwich, coffee?"

"How about a glass of whiskey?"

"Alright, but promise me you'll eat something before you go to bed." He picked up a phone, his eyes twinkling. He ordered, from a woman on the other end of the line, a glass of whiskey and a vodka soda. "Bring the bottle," he'd told her. Jin was tilting his neck upwards, struggling to hold the little smile back from his lips so that it made a giant, toothy pout under a slender nose. He slid over on the cot, so that Rex could sit down next to him. When they were seated together, Jin moved over again; his leg touched the conductor's.

"God, you haven't changed at all," said Rex.

"Wh - what do you mean?"

"You were a goddamn kitten the first time. And you still are." The blue sky in his eyes glowed warm with sunlight.

Jin White stood up suddenly, pacing now. Rex watched him patiently. There was a furrow brewing at Jin's dark brow; he was a walking storm cloud. He cast an impatient glance towards the door, wondering aloud about the whiskey. His restlessness was palpable, and rain gathered at the windows from outside. "I don't remember that," Jin confessed.

The conductor turned this over in his mind. A cloud passed over his own blue eyes, and he appeared suddenly hurt. Then, he looked embarrassed. "I see..."

"I - I'm sorry," Jin pleaded, choking on the word.

"You flitted into my life like an angel," said the wounded conductor after a pause. "When I was down. You were, too. You didn't have anywhere to stay, and I didn't have anyone to live for. I let you stay with me, for a while." His soft voice trailed off, but the implications were strong. His eyes were misty, but the smile was back.

"Why - why can't I remember that?"

"You were drinking a lot," shrugged the conductor.

"That's not it," said Jin, rudely. "I can't remember anything about the past. My past. It's all gone. I'm a blank page, now."

"That's not true," offered Rex. He looked smaller to Jin's eyes, and Jin wished he would sit up straighter, stop letting himself give up and grow old. "You're just as I remember you," Rex continued. "You're the same Jin." He meant it as compliment; Jin didn't know what to think. The younger of the two stood clenching his jaw so tight his temples flared. Wise enough to know when youth was frustrated, Rex changed direction. "You were full of dreams. You wanted to open a school; you wanted to open a shop; you wanted to tear down all the walls." Jin's stopped flexing his jaw, and Rex saw this as a sign to continue. "I asked you, once, why you were here. I meant here in my life, in my bedroom, making me feel happy for the first time in years. I was ready to give up, until you came along." He paused for the longest silence yet. The steel train rolled and roared through low clouds; everything was a fog.

A lady entered at that moment with a quick knock on the door and then the metal sound of the cab opening to receive her. She pushed a cart ahead of her, and it took up much of the open space, forcing Jin back down to sit at Rex's side. The lady was Rex's age, but more decorated with proud wrinkles, her hair a brown-grey messy bun. She smiled at Jin and Rex in a way that made the former blush. Rex handed Jin a glass of whiskey mixed with a splash of water. Then he took his own, clear drink, set the bottle of vodka under the cot, and sent the woman off.

"What did I say?"

"You told me you were here to spread love." He beamed, his eyes wet and shining, raising his glass to Jin White. Jin stirred; he felt the train spiraling around him; he put the glass to his lips, and suddenly everything went black.

-x-

Green light flashed in all the cabins, all along the side of the train, and over the stars as the magnet train pulled into Kevin Baconville station. Then the light faded, and all that was left was the glow of dawn. Jin White kicked violently awake, nearly tumbling off his leather seat in the sixth car of the train. He expected to feel the sweet, heavy pull of whiskey at his lips; instead, his mouth was unbearably dry. He reached instinctively to his pockets but found no packet of red cigarettes. He was overcome by black yearning, and exhaustion. His body ached for sleep, even now.

The train wasn't moving, but the people inside were stirring and packing and talking and moving one after another to the exits at the nearest vestibule. None of them paid Jin the slightest attention, even as he reached for the heavy katana - wrapped in a bundle of torn, dirty shirts - from the overhead rack and slung his bag over his shoulder with a dark and loud sigh. He longed for Abbie the Mechanic, Peasant the Dancer, and Rex... Rex the Healer. His heart was throbbing in a way that only love can inspire, and though he wanted to swim through the walls of this world until he found them again, he remembered them as parts of himself.

"Know where you're going," said Abbie.

"Trust yourself the way you trust others," said Peasant.

"You told me you were here to spread love," said Rex.

The streets of Kevin Baconville took him in with a roar of white light.
Edited by Jin White, May 5 2014, 01:15 PM.
i used to be shy. now i'm reserved.

who the #!@% is j i n w h i t e
character level: 26
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Steel Cerberus
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Go for it, run towards it, dive in head first. Live life with no regrets!
I feel a little daunted, here, honestly. I feel the need to say that before I get started. You asked me to grade this, and I'm happy to oblige if you really want me to. I guess I don't feel like I deserve to, though? Iunno, you and Mav can actually grade things. You see what I don't. I don't always see the masterpieces you guys see. So I guess, I'll grade this, and if anyone feels like raising your grade and regrading it, I wouldn't be offended. I mean, what kind of writer am I? I had to look up three words you used. I'm pretty terrible but whatever. You still asked me to grade this and not to sit here and hate myself, so here we go.

I don't know if you'd call 5k words short. It's not long, certainly, but iunno if I'd call it 'short'. It didn't exactly feel that long, which is a talent you seem to have. You can write, dude. You paint the pictures and weave the words and set the scene. You don't need me to tell you this, though. I will tell you that I was excited to read this. When you first started, I kind of skimmed it and didn't think much of it. I don't know when I actually became engaged. I think it was just before you asked me to read what you had so far, up to nearly the end of Abbie's part. After that, I'd check on it occasionally, whenever I saw you looking at it or editing it.

I like dream sequence type-things like this. I don't know why, but I really do. I always have. I didn't actually realize it was a dream until the end, but I noticed things seemed odd. Pretty much after Abbie's part I was a little confused as to what was going on with the outside of the train, and kind of scratching my head. (again, this was before the whole thing was finished, so I was left to stew about it for a bit before I could continue) But it wasn't... too weird? It was more like "what... is he doing?" then immediate realization or dislike of any kind.

You said you wanted to make it more dialogue-centric, and you did pretty damn good. Jin himself is quiet. That's just how he is, and it's fine. He spoke just enough in here that it wasn't too much, and the rest of the characters filled the rest of the spaces between the description and the doing. All three of them, Abbie, Peasant, and Rex, were all very distinctive. I think Abbie is my favorite, but I couldn't tell you why. I could almost smell the cinnamon and tobacco the whole time during that part. Peasant's bit is lovely because it does have a lot more conversation and less description. Which, description isn't a bad thing in your case, but I did notice it.

I liked how, like... man, how do I explain it. Abbie was like a push on Jin, and Peasant was like a pull. Abbie was actively like 'hey, you, with the sword,' sort of pushing, while Peasant was pulling the questions and curiosity out of Jin without doing anything. Iunno, I liked that. I wish Jin would have indulged his curiosity, but that wouldn't be much like him, huh?

I don't want to say that I didn't like Rex's part, but it... I didn't like it as much as the other two? Though I certainly didn't dislike it. It almost felt like I was intruding on something. Does that make sense? Given that section itself, it sort of does make sense. Instead of gently pulling at Jin's curiosity, Rex sort of grabs by the emotions and yanks, but still gentle somehow. Hmmm. It's midnight and I'm not making much sense anymore. If I think of anything else tomorrow, with a fresher mind, I'll let you know.

I wonder, sort of, if these three are actually real to Jin or not, at least... in some time, some place. I think I'd be wondering this regardless, but I would never have remembered that Peasant was the same gal from the medieval thing. I think even without that, I'd be thinking they were real. Just forgotten.

Iunno. I think it's rad. It kind of makes me want to read more, if there is any. Someday.

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Jin White
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existential mage
Ahh thank you, friend. I was grinning the whole time I read your grade. Don't be hard on yourself; you are so, so competent, and that's a big fucking compliment. I'm surprised and thrilled that you liked Abbie, then Peasant, then the Rex scene: for me it's the opposite.
i used to be shy. now i'm reserved.

who the #!@% is j i n w h i t e
character level: 26
{ home base }
43 :lp
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Steel Cerberus
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Go for it, run towards it, dive in head first. Live life with no regrets!
Heh, thanks dude for the compliment.

And oh crap I kept forgetting to post this. The 1.5 bonus? Iunno if I get to decide if you get it, but I say you totally get it. So that'd be uh. 232.5 LP? Yeah.

Oh and I forgot this too, a little bonus item that doesn't mean anything game-wise.



As the flurry of train related movement started again, and Jin was pulled out, others were pushing and jostling past to get into the train. A much shorter, but stockier person shoved into Jin particularly hard, pushed by someone on their opposite side. The unruly head of long blonde hair whipped around to look at Jin, his dark brownish eyes finding her dark blue ones.

"Whoops, sorry bro," she turned sideways slightly, her glasses catching the light as she looked at the ground. She stooped quickly, trying not to get trampled, and was holding a little red box when she stood.

"Dropped your smokes," the young woman held it out towards him, holding with just the tips of her fingers as if she didn't want to be touching it in the first place. She waited until Jin took them, and smiled widely.

The train whistled, and the door shuddered as the closing mechanism engaged. The blonde winked at Jin, and jumped onto the train just before the door closed and she disappeared into the crowd, the back of her jacket stitched with golden feathered wings.

Jin: +1 nearly full packet of those red cigarettes.
Edited by Steel Cerberus, May 14 2014, 12:04 AM.
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