#lmao i am actually writing submas after The Brainworms

[ishgardian-salt-rock]

got tagged by @rarmaster to share a snip bit of my latest wip!! technically this bit is scrapped and im still sad about so now YALL get it

if you want to post a snip, feel free! i tag all who wanna

Emmet was back on track. He meant it.

Gear Station was up and running, even if there. Wasn't really anything he could do about the Multi Line. (It was still too painful to go near the cars, let alone imagine replacing-) The paperwork was up to date once again. All of their, his pokemon were back in fighting shape, care routines on track.

Emmet hasn't, however, put the brakes back on.

He has never run the station alone. He was a two-car [train]. He *has* to keep the Singles and Doubles lines running, even on fumes. Until his brother comes home, Emmet will keep things going as best as he can, no matter what.

Last night, there was emails from the league about. Something. He can't remember. The last email he sent back was dated 4:17 am.

Emmet has, perhaps, not been sleeping much.

Another challenger approached, and Emmet opened his mouth to  let his script tumble its way out on rote. Its hard to focus, after all...

The car shook around him. He swayed with it, a natural rhythm, a familiar companion.

He blinked, slow, like through molasses.

And then, Emmet collapsed.

And then.

(And then,)

Ingo stood up.

He groaned, and wondered briefly why he was on the floor in the first place. He had fallen asleep in his bedroll, for once, not on a surface so... cold.

Bracing himself, there was a thrumming beneath his feet. It echoed in his blood, and when Ingo met the eyes of the young man facing him, Ingo easily lost himself in that rhythm.

He knew this. This was a good dream, and he would ride these rails as far as he could.

#mint writes #submas #lmao i am actually writing submas after The Brainworms