Tales of the Last Train

Mister J had boarded the train and wandered in his long coat and hat. This wasn't what he had been looking for. Why did his searches show him this place? He would find a seat and reach into his pocket feeling the locket of his sisters picture. He thought about her often but with no clue to her whereabouts he had begun searching for Gregory House and had arrived here instead. Oh well no matter perhaps the train would take him to the House. He closed his eyes for a minute and listened to the sounds of the trains on the tracks.

"So you don't know where you're going...?" She said quietly.
Not very assuring.

With a sigh, she glanced out the window again. She wanted a plan. She wanted to know where she was. She really just wanted to get her head together without anymore weird things.
Heather looked back at the Artist, "W... Would you mind doing me a favor? I... I left my bag at my original seat... Back where we met? I... I'm still a bit frazzled and would don't really want to wonder around right now, if you know what I mean, heh." She smiled, embarrassed. She felt bad asking him, even though she could just go do it herself, but honestly she didn't want to leave this seat for the time being. With all those souls that just jumped on board, she didn't want to risk running into any of them. As long as she was confident she was alone in this car, she felt more at ease.

And she couldn't have those few minutes alone if the Artist was around.
Nothing against him, she found him really nice-- he was probably the only one she could trust, besides Mama Dog-- but she just needed a moment to herself.

"...If you'd rather not it's okay, I just have some things I probably shouldn't have left alone." Come to think of it, she hoped no one else had found it. All her essentials were in there.

(I promise I have things in the waiting for actual stuff to happen. I'm not trying to lead you into having nothing to do XD; )

(Let it be known I intend for the train to take a few stops along the route, but I am capable of being flexible if you guys have any ideas. As an open-ended RP, anything could happen.)

He felt a tinge of unhappiness when she seemed to be dissatisfied with his answer, but it disappeared once she presented a redeeming chance.

"Y-Yeah, I can get it for you," he replied. "Where we first met... That was only one or two cars more, right? I think I can remember that. You stay right here; I'll be back in a jiffy."

With that, he hurried his way up the car and disappeared through the door into the adjoining car.

Heather watched as the Artist left the car. After the door closed, she let out sigh and lied back down in the seat. She stared at the ceiling, before running her hands up her face until they sat on her forehead. "What's wrong with me?" She muttered. "I feel like this place is gonna make me go crazy."


Two cars down, the girl's stuff was indeed in the seat she had left it. However, it was open pencils were spiraled onto the floor, and something obviously missing.

The next seats over, two small figures were huddled together, a sketch book open, and pencils doodling all over the page.

"Hah, look! I drew Grandpa!" One of the children, a mouse, pointed as his crudely scribbled drawing.

"That looks more like that Frog lady then Mr. Gregory." A small dog blinked at the scribble.

"Shut up! It looks exactly like him!" The mouse protested, pointing the pencil in the other child's face. "Besides, you can't even draw a square! What do you know!"


(I'm not really claiming to play these characters, so if anyone wants to they can take them whenever. I'm just gonna be them when needed XD;; Since we need some stuff to do)

J found the Monotony Unbearable after all wasn't the Soul Crushing Boredom one of the things he sought to escape on his journey? He would stand up and would then decide to explore this train. Perhaps he would find someone of interest in another compartment.


He hummed to himself "Lay Me Down" by Rome from Sublime it was a song that his sister said described him and her. He would open the next compartment and walked inside he heard voices coming from the next compartment and began to approach it and opened the door.


His eyes would see a couple of children drawing but these weren't human children these were animals in clothing. One of the accounts of Gregory House remarked on Anthropomorphic animals. A smile came to his face. Apparently he was on the right train indeed. But he was not sure what to say to them so he paused upon the precipice.

"Oh, you're already crazy, dear girl."

The ghostly figure suddenly appeared out of the blue, staring at the back of Heather's head from the seat he moved to.

Underneath his mask, he smirked, folding his arms over the top of the seat.

"Everyone here is crazy. It's a fact. All those who occupy this train have lost their way... all because of their longing to escape a boring life of routines along with any other indesirable concequences of living in the harsh world of reality." He narrowed his eyes. "You're no different."

He hopped out of his seat, floating past her as he made his way over to the back of the car once more. "Don't get me wrong, you do seem to have somewhat of a grip on the situation...but no one can ever escape the madness." He chuckled. "...nobody." With this final word, he reached over and grabbed the handle to the next cart down, heading to the engine room for some privacy. Feeling accomplished with himself, he sighed happily, now feeling as if his bad deed for the day has been done.

(Sorry that Barber is such a jerk :C )

(XD Tis perfectly fine~ I like him already lol)

"Oh, you're already crazy, dear girl."

The girl froze at the sound of the voice behind her. She listened, unsure of what else to do. The sound of that voice didn't sound very friendly, and she wasn't sure if she'd want to come face to face...

Longing to escape reality..?
Well sure, didn't everyone? But this place... That seemed a bit extreme, didn't it?
Though when she thought about it...

"You're no different."

That made her turn around; and she nearly fell out of her seat seeing whom was behind her.
He looked like a crazy surgeon at first glace, and his eyes felt piercing.
She stared after him as got up and... Floated. He was floating. That's just what she needed.

His last words to her before exiting made chills flow down her spine. What exactly did he mean?
Well, he seemed to actually know about this place more than the others-- and she would probably regret this-- "W-Wait!" She jumped up and ran after him to the door. Taking a breath she grabbed the handle and opened it, following the strange man into the next car, seeing him floating his way towards the door further down. "H..Hey wait a minute!" She called after him, wanting to ask some questions.

Or hopefully seem brave and 'demand' answers.

Mr. J may or may not have noticed the figure of the Artist enter the car from the other side. As he headed down the aisle, he looked over every seat he passed, looking for his friend's bag. So concentrated on the seats he was, he didn't notice one of the scattered pencils until he stepped right on it and slipped. "Whoa!" he cried out as he fell on his bottom.

It took a moment for him to regain his senses and see what he tripped on. Then he saw another like it. And another. And another, forming a trail all the way to a large open bag on the seat.

"Ah, that must be it," he thought out loud. He wasn't sure why she would leave it open like that, though... Figuring all the pencils on the floor were spilled from the bag, he got on his knees and started picking up as many as he could.

"Hm?" He looked over, seeing that the human started to follow him. Even so, he opened the door to the engine room and entered it, staring at the unfortunate souls being used to power the train.

The spirit-like being floated over to them, taking amusement in their pain. "Such a shame. If you all weren't so foolish enough to be trapped here, you'd be in a better place like myself. Strong and independent."

Expecting the girl to come in through the door, he waited, switching the drill hand with his regular one, polishing his scissors as he stared at the bulletproof glass window.

Mr. J Had his Attention focused on the kids in the next compartment however when when the artist fell the sound caused him to turn and look over at it. He moved toward it but didn't interrupt it's frenzied collecting of supplies. He was quiet just observing the scene. Several time he considered saying something his mouth parted but then closed again. Finally he decided to go back to the children who were playing and walked fully into the compartment taking a seat nearby he looked to them and said. "Hello"

The girl did just as predicted. When she got to the door, she slowly opened it, already beginning to regret this decision with how much darker this room was compared to the other cars; and she thought she could hear... voices? Like the whole room was in pain or something.

She stood in the door way a moment longer before fully walking inside, slowly closing the door about halfway, just in case she wanted a quick escape.

That's when she noticed small glowing lights at the front of the room, fading in and our as they floated up and down in glass of some kind. They looked like...

"Souls...?"



~~~~~~~~~~



"HA! I win again!" The young mouse shouted victoriously, throwing his fist in the air. The two children had moved from bad doodles to games, such a tic-tac-toe.

"James, I think I was the circle..." The dog turned the sketchpad around, a headache coming on making it hard to remember who had been who anymore. "Can we play a different game now? This one is getting me dizzy!" He held his bandaged head, moving his body in a slight swirling motion.

"Why when I'm so good at THIS game?" James puffed proudly. He then flipped the paper back to some actual decent drawings having been done by the owner of the sketch book. "I guess we could find some crayons and color these!"

The mouse child stopped as he notice a man come over. "Hey there mister!" A new play mate? Interesting! And he was still human! He was always excited when that would happen, even if Grandpa always did tell him he shouldn't bother them. But he wasn't here right now! "Do you have any markers or something on you?" He asked, his mind going back to their games.

The dog looked at the newcommer, a smile replacing his pained expression.

Barber looked up from what he was doing, eyeing the human. "That is correct. You better be careful, otherwise, you may end up like them..." Lowly, he chuckled, shutting his eyes as he continued to polish his tools.

Mister J would reach into his coat pocket and pulled out five pens. One was Green One was Black, One was Red , One was Blue and one was Purple. He held them out toward the Mouse. "I don't have any markers... Will these do?". He asked as he looked at the blade sticking out of the little dogs head. Part of him considered trying to pull it out but he was a newcomer and it was probably considered rude.

The two boys had finished their games around the time had finished picking up all the writing implements he could reach and put them back in the bag, closing it up. It was then that he heard a particular line from the seat in front of the bag's.

"I guess we could find some crayons and color these!"

Color? he thought. He then remembered that there didn't seem to be too much in the way of paper in the bag to go with the pencils. Didn't she say she was an artist herself...?

Putting the strap of the bag over his shoulder, he stepped around the seat and saw the two kids. They seemed vaguely familiar, but that was quickly shoved to the back of his mind when he saw they were holding a sketchbook... and he may have been forgetful, but he could put two and two together.

And some guy was also here offering them colored pens! If he didn't do something, they'd ruin those perfectly good sketches!

"H-Hold on there...!" he squeaked out, stepping a little closer. "That's my friend's sketchbook!"

She looked him, feeling another chill. Become like them? How? And why were they in glasses?
She shook her head, eyeing the man, a nervous glance towards the things in his hands. Why would he be carrying those around?

"What...Who are you?" She corrected herself-- 'who' rather than 'what' he was-- thinking that might be a better first question, even if not the most important. "A-And what did you mean by..." She tried to pick the right one. "'Ending up like... them?'" Guess that was a good start.


~~~~~~~~~~


James excitedly reached for the pens, when there was an interruption. He looked up at the Squirrel, shooting him a glare and mischievous grin. "We were just borrowing it." He took the pens and picked up the sketchbook, "Besides, look how boring it is! It needs color!"

The dog stood up, laughing "I know I'd be excited to find my drawings magically colored in!" Clearly they didn't understand the meaning of violation.

"Forgive me if, as a professional, I lack faith in your artistic abilities," the Artist replied, sounding distinctly not-sorry. "An artist's vision can only be realized by the artist themself. Or... themselves, something like that. Either way, you have no right to deface that sketchbook any further."

Slowly, so hopefully as not draw the attention of his opponents, for lack of a better term, one hand reached into the pocket of his smock, taking hold of something...

"If I were you, I'd return it right now."

He dropped the pens and backed away from the situation. He had no idea what was going on but if he got involved he'd just end up over his head. And who knows what was in that pocket. a knife? A gun? A paintbrush? He backed through the compartment to watch the scene before him.

Once he was finished polishing his scissors, he switched his hand back to be a drill. At the 'what' comment, he was about to laugh, however refrained.

He looked down at her, answering, "My name is Dental Barber." He put the cloth away, stuffing it in the hole of a nearby crate. "Normally I wouldn't bother to tell anyone that, unless they already have...ahem. 'Given up', as I would word it."

At the mention of the souls, he stared over at them, listening to their struggled cries. "Them?" He lightly tapped his scissor hand against the glass, which made a slight tink sound. Barber glanced over at Heather, looking hauntingly calm as he was about to touch upon a dreadful subject.

He folded his scissors over the metal of his drill, as if making a hand gesture. "Those who are foolish enough to believe in most of the beings of this world end up like the souls in those jars. If people let their guard down, their souls may be taken away... Whether it be by a simple spell or being killed. Everyone here has their own hidden potential to being dangerous... Even if they are unaware of it."

Barber swung his scissors, as if to lash out at her but barely missed. He narrowed his eyes, as if taunting her. "I also have said potential." The spirit straightened himself, now holding his arms at his sides casually. "I'm pretty sure you're aware of this, since you felt slight intimidation in the dining cart, didn't you? I can tell, since Chef was rather loud..."

'Dental Barber.'

Looking at his hands, she guessed that made sense. But what he meant by 'given up' confused her.
She glanced at the souls again as the Barber tapped the glance, listening as he explained them. Though it only made her more curious about all of this. His hint of danger made her tense. Like a foreboding message she wasn't ready to read.

She turned her attention back towards the Barber, about to ask more when his large scissors went flying by her face, barely missing her.
She stood there, frozen, as the man continued. Intimidation? Yeah, that about covered it. Just throw in scared out of her mind at the moment and there you go.

She blinked, trying to relax once again as she tried to find her words. "I... I guess." She took a small step back, recalling it all, "Even though I'm not sure why..." She muttered to herself. All she had done was ask for water, and next thing she knew, she was getting death glares and fear of a giant knife.
She looked at Dental Barber, unsure even more of him, "...But... Artist didn't seem dangerous.." She thought aloud. Neither did Mama Dog or the little girl with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James let out a "Hmm." and looked at the ceiling, as if thinking about complying. Since he asked so nicely... "Naaaah, I think I'll just keep it a while longer." He let out a mocking laugh, holding the sketch book further away from the squirrel.

Mummy Dog hopped up and down, "Are you two gonna fight? Whoopy! How exciting! Can I be judge?" To his innocent mind, it all seemed like a fun game.

"You never know... It could all be an act." He smirked, finding joy in messing with another's mind. "There are so many I could name that may seem innocent... but truly, they are not."

He turned, his back facing her. "Think about that..."

("Artist didn't seem dangerous," eh? )

The Artist's eyes narrowed. "...I had a feeling that'd be your answer," he said ominously. The suspense began to build for several seconds as the Artist stared James down, the ambient noises of the wind whooshing by outside adding to the tense air.

When suddenly-

"THINK FAST!" And as quickly as he could, hopefully before the mouse could react, he pulled it from his pocket and flung it in James's face: a cold water-soaked rag. He rushed forward, shoving the little dog to the side, and in a matter resembling an imitation of professional wrestling, leaped into the air screaming and landed on the hopefully-blinded mouse, trying to pin him down.

Watching the sight before him he would have to make a decision and so he did he rushed forward grabbing an nearby bottle and smacking it over the head of the crazed artist and tried to pull him away from the young mouse and dog. He tried to Drag the Artist away from the kids to stop this madman.

"OW!" the Artist cried from the bottle's impact. His assault against James temporarily ceased as he rubbed the sore spot with his hands moaning.

This, of course, made him more vulnerable to the other guy James got the pens from pulling him off, especially since the Artist was by no definition a heavyweight. "No! Let go!" he shouted as he struggled back. "That's her sketchbook!" However, it seemed the blow to the head only seemed to make him a little more focused. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the front end of his friend's bag and swung it backward into his attacker's stomach, hoping it would cause his grip to loosen.

He would get hit by the bag and tripped over the bottle he had dropped and hit his own head on the train floor and stared up at the ceiling disoriented as he laid on the floor trying to gather his thoughts for the moment.

(He rivals Jackie Chan)

Heather thought it over. Sure, they were weird, but they hadn't done anything harmful. And Artist seemed too nervous to ever do anything really dangerous. At least, that's how she saw him. Not to mention how nice he has been.

"So you're trying to say everyone here is crazy and and deadly?" She shook her head, crossing her arms. "I can't believe that..." But she didn't sound so confident. The girl probably just wanted to keep some hope that not everything was as bad as it was being made sound.

"But wait, why aren't you, and Artist, a-and the others glowing souls? And why aren't you guys human?" This question had been bugging her so much it just jumped out."A-And what does 'reality' have to do with this train? What, is none of this real? And, and..." Nothing felt like it made sense to her at the moment; or she just felt like asking questions. She couldn't help it, when she gets frazzled, she rambles. Mainly with questions, either to herself or to others.
And with the Barber's back turned, free from his gaze, she felt a bit confident to speak more; though she did take another step back, rather having more distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James had defiantly been surprised. Blinded by the rag, he was tackled over before he could make a move to get rid of it. As they tumbled to the ground, the sketchbook went flying back a ways from them, luckily. He struggled, fighting off his attacker as best he could with being half his size. Before he knew it, his opponent was pulled away from him and he could remove his blindfold. "Hey! That wasn't FAIR!" He shouted in protest, pulling himself to his feet in time to see him knock the other guy down.
This really wasn't fun anymore, and even though James loved to get into scuffles, he was smart enough to let others do his work for him, so he'd leave these two losers to fight. "C'mon." He motioned to Mummy Dog, both running opposite of the new fight, picking up the sketchbook as they went. He'd get this squirrel back for his dirty trick by putting this thing where he couldn't find it.

Chuckling to himself, he opened the door, letting Mummy Dog run through first, then sending an evil smirk towards the other two, he ran through next, closing the door.