eternal train + transformer hell

An Engine For Everyone

Present Day

In the modern era, the North Western Railway has become world-renowned for its historic fleet of locomotives, coaches, and freight cars. Enthusiasts come from all over the world to see them, and in the process, bring in a significant amount of money. 

However, the NWR is a working railway, doing its best to keep up with the travel demands of the Island’s residents and visitors, while also operating safe and comfortable services. This means that many of the “truly historic” operations that enthusiasts wish to see don’t actually occur all that often. For example, almost all of the railway’s main line coaching stock are British Rail Mk. 1, 2, and 3s, most of the trucks have been equipped with bogies and air brakes, and many of the engines have been modified and painted to the point where they bear little resemblance to the black-and-white photos of yore. 

While many enthusiasts are content with seeing historic equipment still in every-day service, not everyone is on-board with this state of affairs, and frequent demands were made of the railway to run services “like they used to,” with period-appropriate equipment, paint, and the like. 

The Fat Controller, never one to turn down a good idea, even if the ones suggesting it were annoying, agreed, and the railway began operating “heritage charters” in the early 2000s. 

These charters were not intended for the traveling public, and were instead aimed squarely at the ‘discerning’ enthusiast. For an exorbitant ticket price every Sunday, they would be guaranteed a historically accurate train trip across the NWR’s network, on a wide variety of rolling stock. 

As one would expect, these trips were massive successes virtually overnight. The train consists were wildly varied, ranging from Gordon and a line of teak express coaches; Henry and some four-wheeled fish vans (along with a number of brake vans for the enthusiasts); Caerphilly pulling chocolate-and-cream coaches; Bloomer towing a line of open coaches; and of course, Thomas, Annie, and Clarabel. 

Another key player in this lineup was James; he hadn’t changed in his appearance in the slightest since he arrived on the island almost a hundred years prior. Additionally, as a mixed traffic engine, he was just as likely to be seen pulling freight as he was passenger services. This meant he was able to easily portray any period of the Island’s railway history without breaking the “immersion” the enthusiasts cherished so much. 

----

“I’m historically accurate!” he crowed to the other engines when he first found out about this. 

“It means you’re boring and predictable,” Edward said, without opening his eyes. “You haven’t changed at all in a hundred years.”

James glared at him, and opened his mouth to retort. 

“Yes you are,” Edward continued. “And no, you haven’t.” 

James began to turn red. 

“Liking diesels does not qualify as ‘changing.’”

James reddened further. “I-”

“The works once received a poorly-mixed batch of your paint and you were so upset about it that they started producing it in-house.” Edward still hadn’t opened his eyes. “It was about the same colour as your face has turned by now.”

Around the shed, the other engines couldn’t hold it in anymore, and they howled with laughter as James tried (and failed) to compose himself. 

----

In spite of this, James adored the heritage charters. The passengers usually made the trip into an event, wearing period appropriate clothes and listening to old music. They took lots of photographs during the event, and he was usually the central focus. Even better (for him, not anyone else), he soon became a favorite of the enthusiasts, as his ease in front of the camera meant that it took no time at all to stage photographs - something that took an age with some of the other engines. As a result of this, James was running at least one charter train a month by the 2010s, far more than any of the other engines - even Thomas. Some groups even requested him specifically, and would spend all day getting photographs of him.  

In the sheds, there was a feeling of dread about this. James could be insufferable on a good day, but if he let this go to his smokebox, problems would occur. 

But it never did. To everyone’s continued surprise, James remained his normal self, even as the railway’s advertisements of the charters began to feature him prominently. 

“What?” he scoffed when someone finally slipped up and mentioned it to him. “Me? Because of that? Why?” 

“Well, I mean, any engine would-” Henry stuttered, mentally kicking himself for speaking without thinking. 

“Oh come on!” James crowed. “Everyone has always wanted to photograph me! All that’s different nowadays is that the cameras also have telephones, so everyone can do it!” He paused. “Maybe, Henry, the rest of you just can’t handle the attention!”

------

Things got even more pronounced after the Pandemic. With traffic volumes at their lowest levels since the Beeching cuts, The Fat Controller was willing to let enthusiast groups charter out trains for as long as they wanted, and let them run those trains anywhere they liked. Many of these sessions were “photo charters” - a charter train that isn’t meant for the enthusiasts to ride, but instead is exclusively there to take pictures of. This meant that the enthusiasts would often have to charter a second train to carry them around in. At first, the engines pulling the second train were the ones who had been shut up in the sheds for the longest during the lockdowns, but after a few trips, James ended up on one of them… 

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” he bellowed, as the photographers tried to plot out the ideal photograph. “Sam! Move forward a few feet!” 

“Why?” 

“So your connecting rods are down. It shows off your motion that way.” 

“That’s a thing!?” 

“Yes!” he barked. “For goodness sake has nobody ever had their photo taken before? This is child’s play…”

After that, he became a fixture of the NWR’s heritage charters. Even when he was the subject of the photographs, he had thoughts and opinions on the matter which were not only sarcastic, but usually correct. This greatly amused a large percentage of the enthusiasts, and before long, James’ “railfan colour commentary” became a trending topic on social media. Much like a snowball rolling down a hill, things only got bigger from there; soon the NWR’s publicity department was filming him with cell phones for use on social media.

-

“Which one is this going on?” Caerphilly tried her best to not be involved in whatever nonsense dance the interns were doing while they stood in front of James.

“It’s called Rednote, I think.” 

“And what is that one?” 

“Chinese, I think?” 

“Why are you being put on a Chinese social media site?” 

“I’m too fabulous to be restricted to just the English language; everyone needs to see my magnificence!” 

“How you haven’t become puffed up in the smokebox about this is beyond me. I almost want to study you.” 

“Years of Poise and Dignity, dear Caerphilly. Poise and Dignity.” 

Caerphilly had no response - at least, not while the interns were still filming!

-

James’ internet fame soon came at a cost to his personal time. West Coast Railways, one of the largest rail charter operators on the mainland, was embroiled in yet another scandal about how unsafe their trains were. Many services they ran were canceled, leaving charter train and railtour organizers looking for other steam engines. 

More than one of these groups asked for James by name, and he was soon off to locations all over the country: London, Penzance, Glenfinnan, and the Firth of Forth. It was a whirlwind tour that kept him away from home for almost two months; the engines would have missed him, but they didn’t have the chance to, considering his frequent appearances on social media. 

-

“I see him less when he’s here!” Gordon muttered to no-one in particular, after yet another video of James pulling The Jacobite was shown to the sheds.

“Och,” Donald grumbled. “I’ve been over that bridge a hundred times back when. Why do I have tae see it again?”

“An we only video called him las’ night!” Douglas put in. “Surely we don’ have tae sit here watching him like a gawping eejit without at least bein’ able to speak to ‘im!”

“Well, maybe some of us want to keep up to date on what he’s doing?” Delta said, quietly. 

“Ach, I wasnae talking about you. Yer special.” Donald groaned. “Why do I have to see ‘im morning noon and bloody night on a tiny little screen?”

“It’s not little!” one of the interns protested. “It’s an iPad Pro!” 

“Lassie, I donae care what pad pro it is, it’s like trying to read something printed on a fly’s behind at fifty paces! I cannae barely see it!” 

“Maybe you need glasses, have you considered that?” Gordon said imperiously. 

“Och, like I need anything from you tonight!” 

-

When James returned several weeks later, he was in grand spirits, greeting his friends up and down the island for several days afterwards. He spoke of nothing but the places he went, and the engines he met, and everyone assumed, somewhat jealously, that he’d been given a “working vacation” by The Fat Controller.

However, when the next Sunday came around, James wasn’t rostered for the weekly charter train. The Fat Controller himself came down to the shed, explaining to James that he’d earned a rest, and ordered him to “take the entire day off.”

The other engines expected James to push back on this, to insist that he’d be allowed to pull the next charter. However, he didn’t; instead, he thanked The Fat Controller for his kindness, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep!

The other engines looked at each other. James hadn’t missed a charter train on his own accord in over a decade - and even then he’d complained about it. They wanted to ask him about this, but they had to leave for their various jobs; after all, while the railway might be slower on Sundays, it didn’t stop. 

Around noon, Delta managed to steal away from her duties, and slipped into the sheds. She found James quietly dozing in a sunny spot. He woke up as she got closer. 

“You don’t miss charters unless something’s wrong.” She wasn’t about to beat around the bush. “What happened on the mainland?”

James knew how blunt she preferred things to be. “Railtours and charters have changed over there, on the mainland,” he groused. “Nobody’s really interested in the actual train anymore.”

“I thought they asked for you specifically?” 

“They did! But that was so they could say I would be there! I was…” he hunted for the right words. “Window dressing for the whole affair. It could have been any steam engine and they wouldn’t have cared. They get on the train, sit down in the coaches and then don’t do anything the entire time! I might as well have been here, pulling the express!” 

“Hang on, I saw all those pictures on Instagram. Loads of people were there to see you, weren’t they?”

“Oh yes, the people on the lineside wanted to see me, but I had a schedule to keep! I’d see them for a few seconds, but the people on the train couldn’t have given a toss. It was very disheartening.”

“Oh, Jamie, I’m sorry. I thought you were having a much better time…” 

“Well, it wasn’t all bad, but…” He trailed off. “I don’t feel right, doing those trains again. Nobody seemed to enjoy themselves, or care! Do you know how much they charge to ride some of these trains? It’s more than my driver and fireman make in three months put together.”

“So, that’s it? You don’t want to do the trains anymore?” 

“No, that’s not it.” He looked around the shed. “It’s just that… everyone was paying so much money for something they didn’t seem to care about, while everyone who did care was getting left behind.”

“That’s… very kind of you, actually. Of all the things that I thought had happened to you, this wasn’t it.”

James scoffed. “What, did you think I’d gotten hurt or something? That I would have mentioned when I called! That was just… distasteful. From now on, I’m only going to surround myself with people who enjoy my company.”

Delta smirked. “So Gordon is going to be sleeping in the carriage shed, then?” 

“Pah!” James snorted. “He can go do the next batch of tours - and he’d enjoy them! They were all ‘premium materials,’ snooty people and express timings; it’d be his perfect holiday!” 

“What on earth are ‘premium materials?’” 

“I don’t know. Presumably some marketing tripe that lets them charge so much for the tickets.”

She smiled. “Does that include you? Are you a premium material?” 

He paused, looking pensive. “Goodness, I hope not. I don’t want my name attached to that sort of thing. I am not a premium product if that’s what they offer!”

She laughed. “Of course, you're not a premium product, you’re for the people.”

He gasped, which was unexpected. “Of course! That’s brilliant! James is not a premium product, James is for everybody! My adoring public will not be kept from me by high ticket prices!” 

Delta could only close her eyes and smile. “Oh, no… what have I done?” 

-------------

A few weeks later

Something that James had missed while on his charter train tour of England was the announcement of a release date for a video game. Called “The Wonders of Sodor,” it was a delightful-looking game that married the aesthetics of the children’s television show with the play style of a train simulator. 

Considering that it was based on the television show, and not reality, it only portrayed the engines from the television show - Gordon, Thomas, Percy, Emily, and Diesel. (By this point in time, nobody was batting an eye at the fact that many of the engines on the TV show weren’t real. It was instead an annoying fact of life they all had to deal with. Why no, Duck wasn’t still upset that Caerphilly had been deemed “too mature” to be on the TV show, why do you ask?)

Considering that only a few engines had been selected to appear in the game, and it was based primarily off of the television show, few on Sodor paid it any notice… until another announcement was made.

--------

“This is absolutely outrageous!” James had been going on and on for some time. “I am not an extra fee! I am not going to be deprived from people unless they pay ten quid for me!” 

“Twelve quid.” Bear coughed. “And the game itself costs thirty.”

“WHAT?!”

--------

Later 

“I am not DLC! I am freeware! No-one should be deprived of me because they don’t have twelve pounds after paying thirty! For a re-skin of Train Sim World! These people at Dovetail should-”

“Do you have any idea what those words you just said mean? Any idea at all?” Oliver interrupted him. 

“No! But the children from the PR department do! I can learn new things!” 

“James… this is a video game.” 

“Just you wait! One day you’ll become DLC and then you’ll be mad about it too!” 

“Do you… know what the letters in DLC stand for?”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

---------

Days later

“No! I will not advertise that stupid game for them!” James scowled. “I am not an add-on! James is for everyone, not just people with twelve pounds!” 

“James,” the intern said, looking at the screen of the phone. “You do know we’re live right now, right?” 

A rictus grin appeared as if by magic. “Really? Which app?” 

“Instagram.” 

“With our two hundred thousand followers?” 

“Uh huh.”

“And they just heard that?”

“A lot of them did.” 

“Oh spiffy.”

---------

Weeks later

The game’s release date was just days away. They’d put up a billboard in Tidmouth. He could see it every morning when he left the sheds. So could everyone else. 

“James, if I pay 12 pounds, will you move out of the way?” Gordon quipped as he waited in line for the water tower.”

----------

Days after that

The game came out to widespread appeal. Many people paid the twelve pounds. James was not thrilled, but by this point he’d accepted that he couldn’t do anything about it. (The Fat Controller had spoken to him sternly about it.)

Sunday came, and James was still taking “a break” from charter trains. In his place this weekend was a much more modern train - Pip and Emma. A few months previously, the last mainline Intercity HST trains had been retired on the mainland, leaving the twin diesels as the only HST to still operate anything close to a full intercity service. As a result, they had been painted, polished, and made to look much like they did in the 1970s, and were running up and down the main line with loads of enthusiasts on board.  

The Fat Controller had been very understanding of James’ reluctance to pull any charter trains for a while (in fact, he’d been much more understanding of that than he’d been about the whole video game debacle), and had made sure that James was given easy duties on Sundays for the time being. Today’s train was a slow goods train, non-stop from Tidmouth Harbour all the way to Barrow.

The trucks were in a good mood this morning, and so while they did sing and laugh about having a “premium DLC engine” pulling them, they didn’t cause any actual trouble. 

They made good time all the way to Wellsworth, but damp rails and a heavy train are rarely a good mix, and the train stalled halfway up Gordon’s Hill. 

There was nothing to do but wait for a banker to help them up the grade, and James rolled his eyes as the trucks began chattering about which level in the video game this was. 

Shortly, Henry arrived, and with a minimum of fuss, the two engines got the train going again. They reached the top in short order, but as James went to whistle his thanks, there was a rush of wind and a loud honk-honk as Pip and Emma streaked past in a blur of Rail Blue and Safety Yellow. 

---

Later

The train was not timetabled to be fast, and it was some time before he reached Killdane. When he got there, he found the signal to be red. In the distance, he could see Pip and Emma, stopped on the main line. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked the signalman. 

“Something’s gone wrong with Emma,” he said. “AWS won’t let her release the brakes.”

Memories of the mainland charters made James's boiler sink despite himself. The people were all the same - snooty fussing that a failed train had "ruined their day," as though anyone had planned a breakdown. Shouted protests about a relief or rescue engine not being what they had paid good money for and came all this way to see. 

A train of upset people. With cameras. He should really make an excuse and go back down the line. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” But what sort of coward would he be if he didn’t offer?

“I’ll see.” 

As it turned out, there was something James could do, and a few minutes later he was shunting his train into the electric line’s yard for someone else to get later. After that, he was somewhat reluctantly steaming ‘wrong road’ up the main line towards Pip and Emma. 

--

Of course, he needn't have worried. The Pip and Emma’s passengers had decided that this was the perfect time to get out and take photos, and the lineside was packed with people and cameras. As James came around the train, a cheer broke out, and more photos were taken. Once he’d been switched onto the same track as Pip and Emma, the camera clicking grew to a frenetic pace. 

James couldn’t help but smile for the cameras. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all - at least on Sodor. 

“Oi,” one of the photographers said loudly. “Is this part of the DLC? Everybody have 12 quid?” 

The group roared with laughter, and even Pip and Emma giggled. 

James sighed, and laughed. “James is for everyone, even on a rescue mission!” 

The crowd laughed louder. 

---------

Later still

James towed Pip and Emma the whole way to Barrow. It had taken some time for word to get out, but by the time they reached the end of the line, the station platform was packed with photographers. 

The train rolled to a stop in a sea of shutter clicks and camera flashes. It was momentarily overwhelming, but after a period of adjustment, James worked the crowd with ease, posing for photos and videos for over an hour, until the stationmaster began to clear people out so the next train could come in. 

------

That night

The sheds were quiet by the time James got back. The “someone else” he’d left his train in Killdane for turned out to be him, and the delays had cascaded from there. 

“How was your day?” He’d parked next to Delta, who opened one eye sleepily. “I heard your adoring public loved it.” 

He smiled. “Everyone had a wonderful day… including me.” 

“I’m so happy for you,” she yawned. “I guess you proved that James is for everybody.” 

He laughed. “I suppose I did.” 

She looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. “Are you going to do any more charters after this?” 

“I asked to take the one next week.”

She smiled sleepily. “That’s my James.”