Repose

The dining car. I smoked, you drank wine, we talked about running away and the dark.

Missed connections, is it? You were kind enough to offer me alcohol in a time of need. And a bit more than that.

ETA: After much talk of this being too vague and no answer, I'll say I crowned you the most drunk man. Is that enough?

[As if the conversation never ended, though he was half-blinded by the lights when they came on, and stumbled out.]

You think people are out to get you?

There was a guy. We talked a little.

You told me a little about high school.

Are you out there?

Who: Corpus
What: Reveal/Injury
Where: Train and Home
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Injuries, bad self-care

( She'd known what it was that she'd faced in the dark )

Who: Locked In [open to They Seemed Sad; Like Trees In November]
What: Reveal! and maybe more
When: Disembarking the train
Warnings: probably none

( He didn't want to let go )

Who: an offering
What: Reveal!
When: Disembarking the train
Warnings/Rating: None in particular

( The darkness was a friend. )

Who: Mémoires
What: Reveal!
When: Before the lights went up, immediately after this.
Warnings/Rating: Some uncomfortable theme stuff

( Go ahead. )

[As the train pulls into Repose's abandoned train station, the lights flicker back on. They don't turn on bright and garish, blinding. Seemingly considerate, they flicker to life slowly, shadows at first and then more, giving those in torrid embraces a chance to flee before they're recognized. But, after a few minutes, the train is as brightly lit as when the evening began. The tables in the dining car are messy with plates abandoned, and the sleeping compartments feature sheets mussed and in need of wash, and the piano bar is sticky from drinks spilled. But, generally, everything is as it should be. Beyond, Repose is waking, the sun just rising and a crisp chill in the air.

The train will linger in the station long enough for all passengers to disembark. Then the train will become a story once more, until the next generation experiences it for themselves. For now, the station goes dormant, the doors once again locked, and everything returns to how it was.]

[Older residents of Repose, the ones that sit on rockers in summer and gum teeth as their grandchildren play in the yard, they tell stories of the last winter train ride. It's a tradition, you see, if traditions can be things that happen once in a generation, once in a lifetime. The tales they tell are marvelous. The train, they say, was opulent, like a thing from a fairy tale. No one shies away at the memory of it, and no dark expressions cross features at remembering. Old women remember being young and wearing their mother's pearls, and old men remember a night spent romancing in tails and snowy white.

The following morning, as if by chance or holiday wonder, the invitations arrive.]

Saturday, December 26th
HOLIDAY TRAIN RIDE
THE ABANDONED TRAIN STATION, REPOSE
ADMIT TWO
DRESS ATTIRE REQUIRED

Wainright Industries