//------------------------------// // Onboarding Passengers VI // Story: Midnight Rail // by daOtterGuy //------------------------------// Soarin awoke with a start, drawing in ragged, gasping breaths. He clutched at his neck, feeling the smooth, thankfully-intact flesh. He was back in his room on the Midnight Rail. Though certainly grateful that Leap’s words had proven to be true, the act of dying was not something Soarin wanted to get used to, as he could safely conclude that it was awful. He got off of the bed and did another check over himself, assuring his anxious mind that his body was as expected. Everything appeared fine, though he was still dressed in his clothes from the prior encounter, and opted to replace them with a fresh, blood-free set. His worries assuaged and appearance made presentable, he made his way toward the main car. Along the way, he met Salinger. He was stomping up the corridor, a scowl affixed to his face. He was in a bad mood, and Soarin hoped he would ignore him. Unfortunately, one look at Soarin and his scowl intensified. “Oh good! you’re awake.” Salinger moved in close to Soarin. Soarin was annoyed to notice that Salinger was taller than them. “As Captain, would you be so kind as to put that wretch in her place?” “...Bradbury?” Soarin asked. “No, Wilde,” Salinger growled. “She is insufferable!” Soarin wanted to note that similar personalities tended to clash, but instead opted to ask about the unfamiliar name. “Who’s Wilde?” “The new passenger, and, as noted previously, awful!” Salinger threw up his hand in exasperation. “As you are the leader of this unruly circus, it’s your responsibility to get her under control.” Before Soarin could note that it really wasn’t and, even if it was, he didn’t really have that kind of authority over the other passengers, Salinger stomped off, muttering darkly about vapid women. Chalking up Salinger’s grievances to his own shortcomings, Soarin decided that he would form his own opinions after meeting this Wilde. A quick jaunt brought him to the front of the train. “Oh? Who might this one be?” A feminine voice said. “Hopefully more entertaining than the last.” The voice belonged to a woman sitting cross-legged on one of the train seats. Presumably the alleged Wilde. Soarin found it near-impossible to look away from her; her mere existence demanded attention. Mischievous blue eyes, short wavy, white-streaked, pink hair, and an athletic figure born of aestethetic over practicality. She wore clothing that made Soarin question the point of wearing it as it did nothing to hide her figure or the outline of her underwear underneath. She had flawless pastel yellow skin that told Soarin she was from a Haven. Nothing about her appearance suggested that she had ever felt the hardship of the Burn Out, though Soarin was not naive enough to think that she had never felt any at all. “Golding,” Soarin greeted. He held out a hand to shake. Standard. “Captain of the Midnight Rail.” “A military type then? Or perhaps stuck up, though clearly not as much as Salinger. He might be hot as Tartarus, but he’s utter rubbish.” She waved a hand dismissively. “No need to shake hands. Too formal for my taste.” Soarin immediately liked her. He let his hand drop. “Well, hopefully you’ll like the others more.” “Those being?” “London, Bradbury, Hinton, Perault, and Andersen,” Soarin recited. “And a one word summary?” She held up a single finger. “Honest opinions only.” “... Feral, obnoxious, dependable, strong, and a ghost.” “How utterly unappealing. However, I can’t say that I’m not intrigued.” She stood up, the action seeming both provocative and graceful. “If you will excuse me, I would like to acquaint myself with where I will be staying on this train. Leap?” “Down the hall, and you will be looking for a door with a portrait on it,” Leap answered, making their presence in the car known as they flipped another page of their book. Wilde regarded Leap with an expression Soarin could best describe as barely contained rage behind a forced smile. “That’s incredibly messed up of you,” Wilde said. “We have no say on the machinations of the train. It represents the rooms as per the individual.” A pause. “Though admittedly, some of the chosen theming may be affected by the codenames we have given the passengers.” “You and I—” She wagged a finger back and forth between herself and Leap “—are not going to get along.” “Then rejoice, as the only ones you must cooperate with are Captain Golding and the other passengers,” Leap replied. “We’ll see about these other passengers, though if any of them are like Salinger, I have doubts as to how well this will go.” Wilde raked her gaze across Golding. “That being said, this one seems fine.” “...Thank you,” Soarin replied. “Don’t thank me yet. I said you were fine, not great.” She smirked. “Treat me well, and I’ll elevate my opinion accordingly. Totes later, friendos.” She waved her hand and sauntered off down the hall, head held high and a swing in her hips. Though he couldn’t be sure, Soarin felt that he had made a good impression with her. “How do you fare?” Leap asked. “I died,” Soarin replied, returning his focus to Leap.  “You did,” Leap agreed. “How was it?” “Painful… and worrying.” “We can predict what you may be worried about, and we are happy to reassure you that there is no cost for revival, unlike other more… barbaric services.” The lights of the traincar flickered momentarily at Leap’s declaration. “There are no hidden clauses or ‘gotchas’ underneath our generosity.” “And this applies to the others as well?” “Others being Hinton and Andersen, or just Hinton?” “...Just Hinton.” “Your honesty is refreshing, if rather unfortunate.” They closed their book, placing it gently in their lap. “Yes. It applies to her as well. And Andersen even, if you don’t care nearly as much. We would like to remind you, Captain, that should not play favourites.” “...Many of the passengers are difficult.” “Yet you will need to adapt. Each passenger is necessary for our journey. They are not disciplined recruits, but individuals that deserve a bit of kindness and understanding in order to thrive.” Soarin could feel Leap’s gaze bore into him. “Much like you had yearned for during your time in the Burn Out.” Soarin looked askance, shame bubbling up inside him. As much as he wanted to argue the point, he knew he was in the wrong. “... I will do better going forward,” Soarin said. “And that is all we ask of you. Feel free to return to your room to think. We will call for you when the next passenger arrives,” Leap replied. Their conversation over, Leap picked up their book and continued to read. Soarin walked into the main car. Leap sat in their usual spot, reading a novel. He tried to read the title, but all he got was a ‘nkens’ between their fingers. More surprisingly was the presence of Perault, who sat in a corner. He kept glancing at Leap out of the corner of his eye like he wanted to ask a question. “Excellent timing, Golding. We see that a notification was unneeded. We have just arrived at the station,” Leap said. Soarin nodded and stepped forward, ready to greet the next passenger to board. Another woman appeared. She was on the shorter side, with alabaster skin and short, coiffed purple hair that cascaded in waves down her face. She was dressed impeccably in a skirt, matching blouse, and knee-high boots. She had a practiced air of sophistication to her that felt glamorous to perceive. This image was hampered by being dyed nearly completely red from head to toe by mostly dried blood. It was almost comical paired with the dazzling smile she had on her face. If Soarin had not come to presume that all of the passengers were wholly unhinged, he would have been more offput by her startling entrance. As is, it was one behind Perault. “Hello, darlings. Pleasure to meet you all.” The passenger tossed their hair back with a hand, splattering the wall behind them with red. “My name is Shelley, and I look forward to working with all of you.” She stuck out a hand. Soarin shook it back. “My name is Golding,” Soarin greeted. “Welcome to the Rail.” “Why thank you, I’m sure I will fit in—” “Rarity?” They both turned to Perault who stared at Shelley with wide eyes. “...Whomever could you be referring to by that name?” Shelley said. “I assure you that is not my name, and, even if it was, I believe we are meant to go by our designated codenames not—” she clicked her tongue to emphasis the word “—our real names.” Perault looked flustered. “R-right, sorry. You just… look like someone ah know from a long time ago.” “Well, admittedly, I can’t say you don’t look completely unfamiliar to me.” Shelley stroked her chin, eyes narrowed in thought. “You do look like… no, I must be mistaken.” She waved a hand. “Regardless, I imagine we are not supposed to be playing guessing games with our real identities. Is there a place I can clean up? The blood is starting to congeal and it’s ruining my hair and makeup.” “Down the hall, and through the door with a symbol of a severed hand,” Leap said. “Ah, yes, thank you.” Shelley gave a small curtsey, causing the floor to be stained red by the excess that dripped off the frills of her skirt. “It was a pleasure, however, I would like to un-dye myself before we continue. Adieu.” With that, she left for her room. “...Perault. Please make sure to use codenames going forward regardless of your familiarity with the passenger in question,” Soarin said. “I didn’t—!” Perault stopped himself and hung his head. “Y-you’re right.  Sorry. It won’t happen again.” Soarin nodded and sat down to wait for the final passenger of the day. “If she is willing, could I request the assistance of Hinton for the next mission?” Soarin asked. “So long as she agrees, we see no reason not to,” Leap replied. “Having a stalwart companion when working with new passengers isn’t a problem so long as you make sure to not ignore all the others in favour of one.” “I have reflected and realize the error in my past judgement. It was a mistake to rely on only one companion when I need to work with upwards of eleven.” “Mistakes are part of the process, Golding. Try not to be too hard on yourself. We only sought to bring to light your shortcoming so that you may correct it, not to apologize for it every ten minutes.” “...Understood.” As was expected, the train whistle cried out and the train slowed to a stop. The last passenger of the day boarded. A third woman came on, this time dressed in a white jumpsuit with pink stripes along the sides and front in a checkerboard pattern. She had a helmet tucked under one arm as she surveyed the main car with violet eyes. There was a sheen to her pink skin and long, vibrant multicolored hair that gave her place of origin as the Crystal Haven. Strapped to her other arm was a thick and wide curved piece of metal banded with leather straps. It and her jumpsuit were splattered with blood. Some was also streaked through her hair, presumably from when she would have run a hand through it. Soarin found her unsettling, but in a different way from the comical Shelley and ghost-like Andersen. She felt like a predator, and every fiber of his being told him that a single misstep would lead to his demise. He couldn’t place one specific aspect of her that told him this, just the overall appearance. Going against his instincts again, he held out a hand in greeting. “My name is Golding. Welcome to the Rail,” he said. All at once, the prior predatory vibe disappeared and was replaced by a cheerful expression. “Thank you so much for the welcome!” The passenger shook his hand. “I’m Grahame.” “It is a pleasure to have you aboard.” He gestured toward Leap. “Over there is One Big Leap.” Grahame shot a warm smile their way. “Hello! Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity.” “You are very welcome,” Leap replied. “Should you wish to clean up before the next mission, please go down the hall and to the door with a car emblazoned upon it.” “Huh. Appropriate,” Grahame remarked. “Well, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll do just that. Talk to you later!” She waved then quickly ran off. Silence filled the room as Soarin processed their newest addition. “...There are two more passengers left, correct?” Soarin asked. “Yes,” Leap replied. “...How stable would you describe them?” “The least amongst all of the passengers.” Soarin felt himself fill with more regret.