The Railyard; A Description

[Camille]

Metal spikes drive deep within the earth, suspended upon a high mound of gravel, keeping them safe, and away from any sort of natural plant live which may be surrounding the area. These spikes push inwards, and through worn, and darkened planks, steam has long since sealed in that unnatural color. These planks, and spikes, and gravel are all a part of a crude support system. Steam engines travel on these grounds.

They’re beasts of machinery, loud, large, dark, and foreboding. Intimidating, one could say. The rumble of their engines can be heard for miles, metallic wheels upon remarkably smooth tracks, not even to mention the sound of the air horn attached to the engine. Run by heat and steam alone, these trains move along those tracks at striking rates, no gear, or piston skipping a beat, ideally.

Needless to say these locomotives need heavy tending for, and this is where they come to do such. Trains flowing into mostly-empty lots in order to be tended to. Dismantled trains prove for a formidable adversary to the most knowledgeable upon the lot. These train workers live some hundred yards off-site in what could be considered a tiny and intimate village of people who had little in common with one-another, aside a deep knowledge and general love of locomotives.

Train tracks stretch for miles and miles, tangling together, and overlapping in a complex, and all too confusing method of transportation. It’s remarkable how quickly this complex system can bring you from one place, to another, and beyond after that.

Somewhere between where the trains come and go, lie any number of train stations. It’s somewhere on the edge of Elysium that one would find one of those train stations; they’re simplistic structures in design, and their purpose is even less complex; they serve as a platform of sorts, for ticket sales and on-loading and off-loading of both people, and products, of mail, and iron ore, of farming products being brought from the plantations of Elysium. With high ceilings and bared support structures

The scent of steam, and smoke cling heavy in the air, the humidity overwhelming, and highly uncomfortable. The train stations always seem to be excessively warm, and damp regardless of what time of the year it is. Sweat beads the brow, and the scent of coal and steam cling heavily to the clothing and hair, frizzing such almost viciously.

These locomotives, despite their flaws, are true marvels of engineering.