#favrile

The conductor politely fixed his hat, "Sorry sir, I was just curious to see what came of my model train. I should have guessed he gave it away."

Archie followed his gaze to the high shelf of knickknacks; trains, boats, fish and rocks lined the livingroom ceiling around its perimeter. "I *inhereited* that from my father, who said he got it from his. Whoever had it before is long gone now pal, and you will be to if you're not careful!"

"I *made* that for my son, its the 'thunder bird', fastest locomotive to run on steam at the time. Heh, made the real one too."

He reassessed the predicament. On one hand, ghosts can be cunning and tricky, especially ones with sharp teeth, but on the other it seemes that this ghost really meant no harm outside of tresspassing. Putting the sprayer back, Archie filled up a cup of water and cautiously stepped closer. The look of the spirit seemed somewhat familiar to him, but from where exactly was fuzzy. Was it an old newspaper cutting, or some story his father told him that he brushed off? Or perhaps it was from an old photo in the photo album?

"What was your sons name?"

"Richard. Smart kid, frankly I couldn't tell you what he looks like." Favrile said with some regret.

Archie glared, "That was the... Gramps?!"

Favrile flinched and looked at himself, "oh come now I don't look that old, do I?"

He pinched his nose, "No I mean, ugh. Okay, we're related, that's fine because it makes sense. What I want to know right now is, are you attached to that thing and just have been hiding this whole time or did I somehow summon you in my sleep?"

"Oh no no," he laughed, "Im just visitng. I was helping this guy named Dareth out of the departed realm and was transported with him, and decided that while I was here I would look around."