When the train arrives, Amanda is more than a tad confused.
There are abandoned train tracks across the town–the only ones for miles around–but this train–
This train is massive. It reminds her of the Polar Express story her mother used to read for Christmas. Amanda stands at the front, and when she looks down, she can’t see the end. The dark color blends in with the night air. Even the softly glowing lights emitting from behind closed blinds don’t help her. But even when she squints–nothing. It’s like it goes on forever, stretching across the world–the universe. Never ending.
The train looks fancier than anything in her town–more luxurious than anything her little family could afford.
But it’s here. Right in front of her.
She was just returning from her midnight walk to clear her head. Insomnia is like that sometimes, but now Amanda fears she hasn’t been getting nearly enough sleep. Or maybe it’s her new medication–were hallucinations a side-effect?
She can’t dwell on the topic long, because a door slides open, and a tall, thin man leans out. He looks unreal, with handsome features that mismatch with his gangly frame. He wears a five o’clock shadow and his hair sticks up like he’s been running his fingers through it.
He takes one look at Amanda and tsks. “What are you waiting for, my dear? We still have one more stop to go in this town.” He steps down and reaches his hand out. “Well, come on. You can fill out the information sheet on the train.”
Amanda feels frozen in place. She can hear her father berating her already, warning her of stranger danger. She’s never faced this problem before, coming from a town where everybody knows everybody.
“What?” Oh, yes, so eloquent. She should just run. Yeah, that sounds about right.
She twists on her heels, but the conductor grabs her arm. It isn’t rough–in fact, it’s more like a soft touch.
“We can take you anywhere, you know. Just hop on.”
Anywhere? That sounds tempting. And if this is a hallucination, Amanda might as well go through with it, right? No fun in running from something fake.
“Okay,” she says, and then she steps inside.
–
The inside is… soft.
The lights, the cushions, the gentle murmurs that fill each train. Everything is so soft–so comfortable. It makes Amanda’s eyes droopy.
“Remember to fill out the information sheet,” the conductor tells her, and then he disappears. Immediately after that, the train begins chugging forward.
There is a nearby seat, separated from the others a comfortable distance. Amanda sits. Suddenly, a boy swoops in, his dark skin reflective in the lights. His smiles is the brightest thing in the train cart. “Here is the information sheet, and several writing utensils. Pick one of your choice. The, uh, writing utensil, that is. The information sheet is mandatory.” He looks sheepish, but his smile is still nearly blinding.
“Uh, okay,” Amanda says, and then the boy disappears.
There are several questions on the paper, but most are crossed out. Only one remains.
What is your choice of destination? Remember, anywhere is allowed!
Amanda holds a pen along the provided line. The Bahamas? New York? Paris or London? She can barely even think of everywhere she wanted to visit while sitting alone in her room.
No–Amanda can only think of one place she wants to be.
The pen shakes as she writes, but then she’s done. The boy swoops back in, smile wide, and glances at her paper. His face wavers for just a second, but then he grabs the paper. “One second please, while I get the manager.”
“Um”–but he’s gone. Amanda lowers her hand to her lap, embarrassed. Her fingers curl together. They said anywhere, but she still doesn’t want to cause a fuss.
But this–this is the only place she wants to be, even for just a second.
–
Amanda feels like she waits forever, but soon enough an elderly woman hobbles her way to the seat across from Amanda. Gingerly, she sits and reaches out a wrinkled hand. “Ms. Tutti, if you will.”
“Amanda. Amanda O’Riley. Nice to meet you.” She takes her hand back. “And you’re the, uh, manager–of what, exactly?”
Ms. Tutti chuckles, coughs. “Ah, ah, don’t worry. Yes, I manage where we go, of course! And you, my dear, are already a special case. But now you wish for this–to travel back in time?”
Amanda nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you must understand the rules, Miss O’Riley. Are you all right at following rules?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Amanda sits up straighter and begins twiddling her thumbs. Her father did always say she has a terrible fidgeting habit.
“Bah, enough with that ma’am junk. Makes me feel old.” Ms. Tutti shifts in her seat as the train slows down again. The conductor did say there is another stop in town. “Now, for the rules. Number one? You cannot affect the future. At least not too majorly. No saving a person, and most certainly no killing anyone. Two: You cannot stay for long. Remaining back in time too long often results in breaking rule number one. Three: Sharing is not caring in this instance. Do not tell anyone you have traveled back in time. It leads to all sorts of messes I have to go back and clean up.” She clears her throat. “Got that? Yes? Okay. Well, then I’m done here.”
Ms. Tutti shuffles out of her seat, but before she can make it too long, she stops and turns around. “Oh, and because you’re such a special case, Amanda, you are going to have to wait a long while before you can make it to your stop.”
Amanda leans out of her seat. “Yes, m– I mean, okay. I can do that.”
Ms. Tutti nods and continues on her way.
–
The train crawls to a stop. It isn’t jolting, like Amanda thought it would be, but it is sudden. She knew there was another stop, but she forgot how small her town is compared to the train. The power is to move the train must have been immense. She wondered what they used.
The conductor’s voice travels through the door. “Come along now, madam. The train for anywhere and everywhere is about to take off. Mr. Allan will show you the way. Yes, yes, Mr. Allan, show her right through that door– Yes, ma’am, you heard me right–anywhere you desire.”
The door in front of Amanda slides open, and the young boy followed by a frail, sickly woman walk through.
“Mrs. Walker?” Amanda asks. “Is that really you?”
“Why, Amanda!” Mrs. Walker hurries forward. “You just visited me in the hospital yesterday. What are earth are you doing here?”
“Ah,” Mr. Allan interrupts. “She’s a special case, madam. Now, if you will, your seat is down here. You may continue your conversation after you fill out your information sheet.” He gestures Mrs. Walker forward. “Come come, now.”
While Mr. Allan walks Mrs. Walker away, the face on Amanda’s must have been confused enough to make other people worried about her. A middle-aged man leaves his seat and plops down in front of her.
“You really have no idea what’s going on, huh?” He twirls his overgrown goatee around his thick fingers.
“No, not really. And Mr. Allan seems… busy.” Amanda hesitates. This not-hallucination is starting to seem all too real. But Amanda–Amanda doesn’t feel worried. Even though she has no idea what is going on, the whole atmosphere–it feels soothing without being smothering. She may be antsy, but that’s because she is meeting so many new people all in one day. Where she’s from, she’s known practically everyone since birth. No new people to meet–ever.
“Could you explain for me?”
The man leans back in his seat, stretches; he looks completely relaxed, while she feels like she must act overly formal in her ratty sweats and T-shirt she wears to sleep.
“Why, sure.” He waves his hand around. “Most of these people here are dead–maybe even all of them.”
Amanda blinks. Her heart stutters, mouth dries. “Are you–are you saying I’m… I’m what?”
A panicked look crosses the man’s face. “No, uh–gosh.” He rubs his face. “How do I explain this? Now, don’t feel offended, but I kinda… kinda listened in on her conversation earlier. And I’ve been on here a long time. Special case can mean anything–anything but already dead. You could have gotten lucky and your wish upon a shooting star is coming true.”
Amanda did make many wishes on shooting stars–well, one wish every chance she got.
“Look, this train”–he waves around again–“this train is the way to heaven, but everyone gets to go somewhere beforehand.”
How strange, Amanda thought. It isn’t a stairway to heaven. It’s a train.
“That totally makes sense,” she says, straight faced.
“Really? ‘Cause I thought the lady that told me was loony at first. I was like, ‘No way, I’m not dead.’ But, y’know? I got over it. Not that you have anything to get over, but–”
“No, it’s fine.” She smiles, but it feels fragile. Mrs. Walker had been very sick, stuck for days on end in their tiny hospital. Her partner was just getting ready to transfer her to a better one. Amanda had only visited her the once. Now she’s dead. Amanda wonders where she’s going. She had always talked about visiting her family’s old home in Germany.
Amanda looks up at the man in front of her. He’s rubbing sweat from his palms on his faded jeans. “I guess this is like a last wish type of situation.”
He perks up, points at her. “Yeah, kinda like that exactly!” Then he peers around her. “Ah, gotta go. My stop is coming up. But if you have any questions, pretty much anyone here can answer them!” He stands up, giddy. “Off to Tokyo! I didn’t practice all that Japanese for nothing after all!”
Amanda closes her eyes, remembers how he said he’d been on the train for ages. She thinks about her destination. When she finally blinks them open, the man is gone.
–
Amanda is tired. It is the middle of the night.
She closes her eyes.
–
Amanda wakes up occasionally–eats, drinks, drifts off again. During that time, more people get off, even more get on.
She’s been gone from home for days, she knows. She wonders how worried her father is. She wonders if time even works the same way on this weird, magical train.
–
Her head hurts.
She thinks that’s part of the reason why she’s been sleeping so much. She asks around when she’s conscious, but no one else suffers from headaches or migraines.
“We’re all dead,” they say. “What’s left to hurt.”
It at least assures Amanda she isn’t dead. Maybe she just needs to get out of the train–be outside again.
–
The train is empty.
The once frequent chatter is long gone, and only Amanda remains. The train stops. The door slides open.
“Are you ready?” the conductor asks. Amanda’s head pounds, but she nods. She’s wants this more than anything.
Mr. Allan shows up, his smile soft. His teeth aren’t showing. Even Ms. Tutti is there to send her off.
She says, “I’m ready,” and steps outside.
–
Amanda is seven again.
Young, fresh, unhurt and unscarred.
And there stands her mother–frustrated with little Amanda’s temper tantrum, with her refusal to give her mother a goodbye hug.
Amanda wants that hug more than anything. It’s the last thing her mama asked of her before she died.
She only wants to be held in her mother’s arms.
“Mom!” she cries, and runs, runs, runs as fast as she can toward her mama.
Mama looks confused, but she kneels down anyway.
Amanda crashes into her, squeezes hard. She thinks long and hard about that number one rule, and if breaking it is worth it. It sure seems like it.
But in her mother’s arms, one last time–Amanda can let go. She can release her pent up guilt, her anger. Amanda relaxes in her mama’s soft, comforting arms. Even her headache dissipates.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“And I love you too, sweetheart,” Mama says.
They hug one, two, three short seconds longer. The train wails. Mama can’t hear it, but Amanda can.
“Have fun on your trip, Mama,” Amanda says–but she knows. She knows Mama never makes it.
Mama pets her hair. “I’ll be waiting to see you again.” She kisses Amanda’s forehead, and then she’s opening the car door.
Amanda runs back to the train. Before she reenters, she turns around and waves at Mama. Mama waves back, blows a kiss.
Amanda catches it and holds it close to her heart.
–
“I’m sorry,” Ms. Tutti says. “You were in a coma. And now…”
“I’m not.” Amanda had felt this coming. “I’m dead.”
“Yes. Again, I’m very sorry. But now you only have one more stop.” Ms. Tutti’s watery smile makes Amanda cry. Her father must be so devastated.
Amanda will wait for him up in heaven.
–
The train comes to a stop.
It’s strange, as stops are mostly made in the dead of night. Here, it is bright outside. The ground looks soft, likes clouds.
And it’s loud. Heaven is bustling.
“Goodbye, everyone,” she says, waving.
“Farewell,” the conductor says.
Mr. Allan and Ms. Tutti wave.
Amanda exits the train one last time.
–
The brightness almost hurts her eyes.
She has no idea where she’s going, can barely see anything. So she just walks–any direction, whatever feels right.
But then there is a hand on her arm, and she’s pulled into a hug.
Her Mama’s hug.
“I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart.”
“I have too,” Amanda says.
The hug lasts one, two, three more seconds.
Longer.
(But it’s okay when the hug ends–because now Amanda can get one whenever she feels like it.)
[Card Showcase] There once lived a lord, known as the Lionheart, who sacrificed himself in the name of chivalry. Ares inherited the blood of that leonine hero, and with it, his dearest desire. Upon the demonic Mystletainn he swears to fulfill his father’s wish to unite the fatherland… To guide the world on the path of peace, and to bring light to all! (Illust. BISAI)
Card stats/skills:
B12-080R Nostalgic Black Prince, Ares Paladin/Cost4(3) Yellow/Male/Sword/Mounted 70ATK/10SUPP/1RNG
“My father so dearly desired to see his beloved fatherland united in a lasting peace. I will restore Agustria to its former glory, that I may fulfill his dying wish.”
Prince’s Mystletainn [ALWAYS] During your turn, if you have 1 or more bond cards with the same unit name as your lord, this unit gains +20 attack.
Heir of the Lion [ALWAYS] If you have 3 or more face-up bond cards, the number of orbs that this unit’s attack will destroy is increased to 2.
[BS] Black Knight’s Holy Blood [BOND] [TRIGGER] When you place this card in your Bond Area, If you have 3 or fewer cards in your hand, choose up to 1 enemy in the Back Line, and move it.
The girl grave robbing and selling human bones online
The white american girl who pretended to be an interracial lesbian couple living with hiv in india, just so she could write hamilton hiv fic
The girl everyone thought was the native lesbian writer of my immortal, who wrote it to find her brother, but it turns out she was white and lied about her backstory and probably didn’t even write the fic
Russian Chaos Agents
Add more if u want, lord knows theres plenty
for all the people in the notes asking for sources/more info:
how cool would it be if there were a hyperbolic cult of womanhood to match the terrible internet worship of masculinity so we could all finally admit how shallow and awful it is.
i see strident women fistbumping over frilly dresses and decaf tea, “Womanly as hell, Babe” they say, phone-searching for the most appropriate “Most Interesting Woman In the World” memery to express their feelings.
single mother pulls off sick bargain-hunts while ripped teen boys writhe in the background, an audience of career moms whooping “SHE MUST HAVE OVARIES OF STEEL” “I BET THEY SCRAPE THE GROUND WHEN SHE SQUATS” etc.
Epic Meal Time hosted by three dreadlocked women who toss EVERY kind of melon into a vat of yogurt. Will it blend? its madness. so womanly. god damn.
“must be motherfucking PERIODING up in here cause im about BLEED on your FACE” scream the olympic volleyball team to their russian rivals, who respond by sneaking into their dorm at night and “clambagging” each and every one of them. prankd
lots of pics of margeret thatcher riding ponys, painting her nails, trying on shoes. Womanliest. World leader. Ever. say the message boards
I really like that Mia has kind of a Christina Hendricks-esque figure when you look at her next to some of the other girls in the game. Or that Franziska has a comparatively drastic waist-to-hips ratio when you look at her next to other characters like Dahlia. It’s always an added bonus when they give some body diversity to the female characters that are meant to be attractive instead of just making a “this is the hot girl mold and we’ll only deviate from it to make characters that are explicitly meant to be less attractive” situation.
On that note, I appreciate that they have characters like Lotta who aren’t exceptionally sexy OR intentionally unappealing! She just wears a lot of layers and doesn’t have her body on display! And that there are characters like Ema who also dress fairly conservatively but are still cute and fashionable!
A lot of the time when people say “wow I wish all of the women in this game didn’t look/dress the same”, other people act like you’re trying to take away ALL SEXY LADIES EVER FOREVER. Ace attorney just…. does a lot of things right. Having sporty, utilitarian characters like Lotta doesn’t erase the curvy bombshells in low cut shirts like Mia, having modest business casual field scientists like Ema doesn’t mean Franziska isn’t walking around in a miniskirt. And the girls who do dress provocatively never seem like they’re like… designed that way for the benefit of the hormonal teenage boys playing the games, if that makes any sense? It might be because the focus of the game is looking at people’s faces and you almost never see them from below the ribcage, but like, Mia for example, is a lawyer who dresses kind of like she weekends as a biker mama. It’s kind of an inappropriate way for a lawyer to stock up their wardrobe, but for her, it gives me an impression like “this character is confident and formidable, she knows how to bend the rules and she won’t get pushed around” instead of “Somebody probably thought this was sexy”.
I think part of it has to do with giving all of the characters individual personalities, as well as fashion sensibilities and body types that suit those personalities instead of treating the women like an interchangeable Barbie doll; and part of it has to do with keeping the more offbeat outfits wacky-within-reason instead of just making something completely inappropriate and propping it up with the EMPOWERED PEOPLE WEAR WHATEVER THEY WANT excuse. Like, Mia’s outfit is a little edgy for lawyer garb because it’s basically a corset and a miniskirt with a suit jacket, it’s not some kind of way-out-there latext catsuit and she’s not hanging around the courtroom in her underwear. That and Mia’s the only one who dresses like Mia. (I also appreciate that she’s also got that little pudge-crease across her lower abdomen that thicker women get when they wear tight skirts while smaller girls like Franzika and Daliah don’t, it’s a detail I feel like a lot of designers would skip if they were going for straight-up sexy)
I know I said some stuff along these days a few days ago, but I had a ton of people send me messages about how they felt the Ace Attorney folks really dropped the ball on the women in the game and I feel like that’s just not giving them enough credit, because they are doing a lot of cool stuff.
This is kind of off-topic but I don’t know if I care enough to make a whole separate post about it, so while I’m here I may as well put it out there that I also appreciate the way they manage to do fanservicey stuff with masculine characters that actually looks like fanservice, instead of just being another power fantasy display. It’s not just like “look we made this beefy dude scowl, that’s exactly as sexy as that girl with the bedroom eyes and her ass in the air, right?” instead it’s stuff like this;
Or this;
Pinup art that’s goofy and fun and in-character with tons of personality! My favourite thing!
I just have more fun talking about media that I really like, doing cool things that I appreciate than trying to call out every instance of people making the same mistakes that everyone’s been making since the dawn of pop culture. It gets me excited and inspired instead of angry and pessimistic.
Relatable FE Quote or Something 
