Starter for @metroboundā !
There was something to be said about passion: how it could rally people even on the sidelines, how endearing it was to face even the fiercest opponent when there was a shared spark of ambition in their eyes reflecting his own. Emmet adored those passionate passengers when it came to the battles, and he made it known with how kinder and encouraging he got toward the kindred spirits.Ā
It was one of those times when the battle was decided, as usual in his favor, and he saw the tears in his passengerās eye. Gentle encouragement and heartfelt praise left his lips as he reached into his pocket: they were not a gym to hand badges to the others, but he still kept around a pack of smiley stickers for the passionate passengers. He quickly realized it was the last one, and as the lunch break was coming, Emmet had to replace them soon or go without on his evening shift.
Once the car made it back to the Gear Station, he exited and announced to the nearby depot agents to wrap it up for the break. Since Doubles Line had closed earlier than usual, he would check on his twin brother later, he mused to himself and took his leave to get to the stationer in time. He knew better than to move in haste but did, and as a weird, ghostly feeling grasped at his heart, he took a shortcut to make haste.
It was then, that he had turned the corner with his gloved hand supporting him by grasping the wall to turn his whole body, giving him momentum into a stupid mistake. He bumped into someone before he could stop himself.
āSorry!!ā Emmet announced as he quickly gained his footing and straightened his posture, putting his hands before himself and offering an apologetic smile to the man in white in front of him...
There was something to be said about passion: how strange it was to face a realized mirror image when there was a shared spark of ambition in their eyes reflecting his own.
His grin stretched tensely on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the other; a weird feeling of uneasiness going full-speed ahead, faster than his thoughts or racing heart. The one he saw in front of him was not... exactly unfamiliar, but Emmet knew he should have never seen them before, or ever.
He took a moment to give him a once-over, his urgent plans halting at the unsettling similarities he recognized, and how could he not, when he had been the one to design his uniform, and what the other man was wearing seemed like an even more sophisticated version of it! It seemed like he was staring at a history book, of the gentlemen in tea parties, and it was not only the height of the other that towered over him but his elegance too.
Emmet knew he was under-dressed for the occasion as if the office handed a memorandum but did not stop by him.
āHi. I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. It seems you are too?ā Emmet let out and took a sharp breath, not sure if he meant both. The silver eyes and hair, the smile, and the similar Subway Boss uniform were all too much of a coincidence, and worst of all, he felt it, subconsciously, that he KNEW this person. He saw a fragment of him in the mirror every day. How could he not?
āDo you need assistance to return to your own station?ā Emmet offered a tense smile.
