Tales of the Last Train

The Artist looked back and forth between Heather and his mug for several moments before holding it out to her. "Hot chocolate?"

The Prompter came out again, this carrying a large tray. On it was a plate with several pieces of half-cooked roast turkey with some leafy garnish and a glass of tequila. He placed the tray on Siren's table before heading back.

Heather looked at the cup, confused and, quite frankly, freaking out. "Wha... No--thank you, but no!" She put her hands to her head and shaking it, having a hard time comprehending the situation.

"Souls..." She continued, putting the puzzle together out loud, "Aren't souls, ya know... only related to dead people?" She took another breath, "Please, tell me if I'm wrong, but it sounds like you're saying... That we're sou..." She couldn't even bring herself to say it, because it had to be wrong. "O-or are you saying... that we're going to be... d..de..."

Mama Dog thought over Heather's question for a while, she seemed rather unsure how to answer the poor girl; especially when it looked as if the girl was starting to become frightened.

The young dog woman bit her bottom lip slightly, perhaps she had said too much about the true nature of the train...would it really be wise to perhaps lie a little bit, just to make the girl feel a bit more at ease.

" Well...no, souls aren't the only ones who board here" was that really wise to say out loud? probably not, but it wasn't an answer that said 'yes' flat out.
" And heavens no! you're not going to die, it's just that this train picks up anyone who has lost their way, why...just the other week, we had a salary man on his way home, he boarded this train and there was also a family who I'm quite close to, they boarded here to go to a luxury resort...well, at least I *think* it was a resort"

Perhaps she was trailing off-topic here, Mama Dog thought that it'd be best to finish her reassuring by flashing a gentle smile.
" And even if souls do board here, I'm sure they wouldn't hurt you...they'd have to have a pretty good reason to do something like that and as long as you don't upset them, you'll be fine"

Turning to the Artist, Mama Dog gave an apologetic glance, she wasn't an artist herself...but she could sort of understand how frustrating it would be to not be able to paint a sight that the passengers on the train had just witnessed a short while ago.
" It's not the end of the world, sir; I'm sure that you'll find other nice things to paint; since this is a touring train, we get to visit many different places!"

Iggy just fidgeted around in her seat, she was obviously getting bored of sitting still and wanted to get up and play around; maybe find a playmate or two if any other children were on board.
" Mama, can I go and play?" the little girl asked the dog woman.

" Yes, but becareful not to get under the other passengers feet, you know how annoyed some of them can get if they're disturbed"

" Yay! okay Mama, I won't get into trouble" Iggy said before wriggling off her seat and started to run down the train's aisle.

Heather lowered her hands from her head, listening as the dog spoke. She could feel the fear of them death going away, but the fear of why they were here continued to cling tightly.

She slowly sat back down, thinking it all over. Those who've lost their way? She wasn't lost, she knew where she was suppose to be going and it certainly wasn't here. She doesn't even know how she got here! That doesn't seem fair if the train makes her lost in the first place. Though, obviously she didn't get that's not what she meant by 'lost.'

But what Mama Dog said about souls hurting them... She'll keep that in mind. Don't anger anyone. But that made her wonder... how dangerous could they be?

She slid down slightly in her chair. "Not even here an hour and this place is driving me crazy..." She muttered, running her hands down her face. The time was probably not accurate, but that didn't matter. Her point still stood.

By the look of it, everyone else got their order, and she could really use that water right now.

"Oh... OK..." the Artist replied to his companion's initial outburst, pulling the cup back. He kept sipping at his hot chocolate while Mama Dog spoke, trying to keep from getting too upset from the high-tension emotions in the room.

He only stopped looking at his mug when Momma Dog spoke to him. "Indeed, there'll be other pictures to be made. It's... just a shame I won't be able to make that one." He gave a little sniff for emphasis.

The Prompter came out for the final time, carrying Heather's order. In front of her, he placed a glass of water with a few pieces of ice in it... and a plate holding an order of the "Mystery Red Meat" special. Sticking out of one corner of it, though, was a toothpick with a little sign in the shape of a candle on it, reading "COMPLIMENTS OF THE HOUSE."

"Uh..." the Artist started, giving the meat a funny look, but before he could say anything further, the Prompter had disappeared.

Heather sat back up, about to also say something to the prompter but he had vanished before any words could be exchanged.

Very confused, the girl took the sign out and read it, flipping it over a couple times before staring at the meat. "Um..." She had no idea how to feel about this. She wasn't even sure what to say other than 'Why?'
She moved the water away from the plate before pushing the meat to the side. "No thank you..." She muttered what she would of told the waiter. She already couldn't eat with so much on her mind, but she really couldn't eat meat that looked like it had been bathed in blood. It gave her the chills just looking at it.

She took a sip of her water and looked at the Artist, thinking about what he had said about capturing the moment of the souls. "Well.." She began, thinking a change of subject from earlier and change of attention from the awkward meat was needed, "How long do you plan to stay on this train?" She remembered when he had told her about the 'last stop.' It made her wonder how far away that was. Maybe he'd have more chances to commit the scene to memory?

This also just made her wonder... if this was a kind of 'lost train' how was she to find her way back...?

The Artist was glad to have attention diverted away from the stomach-turning meat on his table. "I dunno. I was sorta thinking all the way. I've gotten curious about the 'end of the line.' I think it would make for an excellent painting. It would certainly be one of a kind! I think it'd be a great adventure."

He was unaware of something only within Heather's line of sight, although from her perspective it was almost over his shoulder, on the inner edge of her peripheral vision. The door leading into the kitchen was slightly ajar. Nothing could be seen in the black beyond it.

Aside from a large glowing red eye, like the Prompter's but larger, staring at her malevolently and the sheen of what looked like light on a large carving knife...

(To be honest, I'm not exactly sure exactly where this'll lead...)

(I don't either, but I feel scared XD)

The girl gave a small smile, feeling a bit lifted by his enthusiasm. She could understand that with art. She could understand the excitement of adventure too, but she was always up-down with it. Which was probably obvious by now. She would scold herself on how much she needed more backbone in hard situations.

She took another sip before responding, "I look forward to seeing it," She encouraged, setting her water down. She wondered how she would see it if she planned to leave before the stop, though. If she could leave before the last stop... She'd rather not thinking about that, though. It did impose a question, however. "But I wonder... How wou..ld... you..." She trailed off as she noticed something shined in the corner of her eye.

She could never help but look at slight glimmers or movement, even if she told herself not to look. It was also an unhelpful reaction, but what her eyes wondered to made her become perfectly still, and made her very, very uneasy.

"...Hey Artist? Ever feel like something's watching you... and looks like it's ready to eat you?"
Two big, red eyes were staring right into hers and it made her heart stop. Just what was that thing and why the heck was it so scary? She was treating the moment like how people view T-rex's. Don't move and you might be safe. This was wishful thinking.

Was this another soul to have come on board? And just why was it staring at her like that?

The Artist took another sip of his hot chocolate. "Not that I recall. Why?"

After a moment, he noticed that she wasn't looking at him but at some point over his shoulder. He turned around, but he saw nothing except for the now-closed kitchen door. He took glances over Mama Dog and Siren to verify before turning back. "I don't see anything. You might've just been imagining things. The night's been known to play tricks with the mind like that. The creeking of the house settling, things like that."

Heather had glanced at the Artist when he took a look behind himself. When she looked back, the door was closed again. She shook her head, "No, there was... I..." She sighed. Maybe she was going crazy. She rested her head in her hands, trying to calm her heart. Everything was starting to put her on edge and she didn't like it.

"M..Maybe I just need to go walk around," she picked up her cup and took one more sip of water, "maybe that will calm me--" As she put her cup down and stood up-- at the same time-- she accidentally knocked her glass over.

"AH! Sorry, sorry!" She quickly stood the glass back up, feel extremely stupid. She blamed her nerves. That was her excuse and she was sticking to it.
Gah, where were napkins when you need it?

"Ah, I'm sorry." She said to the Artist, worried if any spilled towards him. Good thing he didn't have any food on the table. She would have felt even worse.
Speaking of, she looked at the odd meat, seeing it now a bit wet. She felt a bit bad for that... but maybe it was an improvement to it's look.

"Mmmmm, turkey!" Siren squealed before digging in. Despite the look of the previous meats that had come out of the kitchen, this one seemed fine. In fact, it was actually quite delicious. Every loud, obnoxious, messy bite she took was met with tender meat, lots of gravy, and lots of flavor...just how she liked it.

She stopped occasionally to converse as well. The souls thing, she was very skeptical of. "......so those are actually souls. Like... SOUL souls. Like the soul of a person. Cause this sounds like something from a book or a movie and I'm not sure if I buy that."

When the water spilled, the Artist reflexively jerked his mug toward him, emitting a high-pitched squeek, to avoid getting wet. Thankfully, he had drunk enough of the hot chocolate that none of it spilled out as well.

"I-It's alright, miss," he replied rather shakily, mostly for concerns that the chef sounded angry enough as it is without messing up the dining area; at least water didn't stain. "H-Hold on," he spoke as he put his mug down on the table away from the spill and started rooting through the pockets of his smock. "I know I got a rag here somewhere... ...Aha!" He pulled out what looked like an old cloth diaper with multiple semi-faint stains of color on it and tossed on the spill to start cleaning up. "Should be able to handle this in two shakes of my tail. ...Which I won't be doing anytime soon to make sure I have enough time."

When Siren asked her if the souls were those of people, Mama Dog bit her lip again...it seemed that she had a habit of doing that when a topic came up that she didn't particularly like.
" Well...i-it depends on how you look at things" was the only thing she responded with.
" When you get down to it, souls are still very much like living beings...only they're usually on a completely different plain of existence to us all"

Of course it was easy enough saying that, but there was still very much out there that not even Mama Dog herself, understood.
" Oh...Mr. Gregory would probably be able to explain this better than I can" she muttered, holding her head slightly.

Heather cracked a light smile at the Artist's pun, but her stupid accident had her frazzled. She took a deep breath, calming herself down. There was no reason to be so wild up. If she didn't keep a clear head, things would only get worse from here.

When the water was cleaned up, she looked at the meat again. "Well... can't completely say that was a waste." She thought aloud. She couldn't help but remember that angry voice earlier, though. If the chef could get that mad over a cup of water... now she really felt in trouble. "Oh... what do I do with it?" She looked around, not seeing a trash can around.

She overheard a tad of Siren and Mama Dog's conversation. Iggy had also mentioned a 'Gregory' didn't she? Sounds like he knew everything about this place. But there was no time to wonder about that right now. She glanced at the window... Nah, that'd be dumb to throw meat out a window... or would it be?

"And there we go," the Artist said to himself as he finished cleaning up the water. Putting the rag off to the side next to his mug, he felt the surface. "Dry as a bone. Cold as one too. Brr."

He watched as Heather mentally debated about what do do with her "complimentary" meat besides eat it, including her dance to the window their table sat against. While it could indeed open up a little to let in air, not very wide but indeed wide enough to throw the cut of meat out, he felt that probably wasn't the best possible solution.

He thought for a moment and came up with something. "Hey, I got an idea..." he told his companion as he picked up the plate with the meat on it. He notably held it at arm's length and tried to avoid looking at it as he got up from his seat and moved a few steps down the car. "Um, miss?" he said, sounding a little more timid than he should, to Mama Dog. "S-Sorry to interrupt, but um, you seemed to like the chef's special earlier. I-I don't suppose you're uh, hungry enough for a... second helping?"

When the Artist came over to her table and asked her if she'd like a second helping of the chef's special, Mama Dog's eyes lit up and she gave a nod.
" I'd love to have it" she responded, sounding perhaps just a bit too excited to be eating meat...but she was a dog afterall.

" I just hope the chef doesn't mind me eating your meal though, Miss" she said looking over to Heather.
" Are you sure you're not hungry?"

Heather waved her hands, trying to dismiss the Dog's worries. "No, no! I'm fine. Go ahead and help yourself!" Maybe that sounded a bit too hasty. The thought of those eyes, though.... If the chef would get mad at her for giving away her meal, she didn't want to be around to see what would be waiting for her. She got chills just thinking about those eyes.

"I-I think I'm just gonna go look around some more. Ya know, clear my head a bit." Being on a train of "lost souls" still had her thrown for a loop, and with her nerves a bit shot, she needed some way to unwine. Getting enough distance away from her and this car would be a very good start.

She pushed her chair in before making a near jog to the exit. It probably would of been more polite of her to tell the room goodbye, or see if any would accompany her, but she was sure she'd run into them again.

She ran into the next car, shutting the door behind her, very sure she was alone now. She leaned against it for a second or two, before falling into a seat next to her. Her mind swam in all her thoughts, paranoia and 'what ifs' causing her to over think things. How did she find herself in such a place? She tried to think of what Mama Dog had explained, even if it left her with more questions. Lost... How was she lost? That could mean so many things, but she was only lost on her reason to being here. She couldn't really think of much from before she fell asleep. Just one minute she was on her way home, and then she was in the middle of no where on this bizarre train ride, heading who-knows-where, and she felt just... so alone. Everyone else seems so okay with this. And normally when she'd picture herself on adventures like this, she always saw herself facing what came at her. But having not been prepared, having it all hit her at once... She didn't want it.

Heather was always a person who would rather know what was coming and have at least a small idea of a plan. She hated never knowing what to do or how to handle things.

She took a deep breathe, lied face up on the seat, and closed her eyes trying to relax.
There was no reason to get to so worked up. Other than being confused, lost, scared-- she was fine. Sure, there was a scary chef, but as far as she could tell she was safe and she could work this out.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She just remembered...

She left her bag at her original seat.

.....well damn.

(Yay we're back~)

As soon as Heather had given her approval, the Artist quickly deposited the plate of meat on Mama Dog's table, just glad to not have to hold it any longer. "Enjoy," he told her.

He watched as Heather excused herself and hurried out of the car, upon which he visibly seemed more anxious. "Uh, e-excuse me, miss," he stuttered to Mama Dog before turning and hurrying after her.

She had just come across her realization by the time the Artist entered the car. "Miss?" he called out, sounding a tad quieter than the average person doing the same thing. "Where'd you go? You're a nice person and..." His voice dropped noticeably, a little louder than a whisper. "...and I don't want to forget you..." A little searching, thankfully, found her laying across one of the car's seats. "There you are."

(( Mind if I join? c:> I've been itching to roleplay with Barber tonight *shot* Also, Artist made me d'aww. fff. ))

In the back of the car, a shady character sat in an isolated seat, slightly concealed by the dark corner. His gaze shifted over to the human who had just entered, as well as the squirrel who had followed her from behind.

'Hm...' He pondered, narrowing his eyes, as he scraped his scissored hand against the metal of his drill. 'A human. She must be lost.'

From underneath his facial mask, he cracked a sadist grin. '...That girl won't last for long, I can see it from the look in her eyes.' Silently, he chuckled to himself, observing the pair while going unnoticed for the time being.

(Go right ahead, Erii~ I'm sorry I'm so slow with these. I'm tryiiiiiiing. ;; And it made me d'aaww too~)

The girl starred at the squirrel a moment, his entrance having startled her slightly. She hadn't really expected anyone to follow her. At least she wasn't having a complete nervous break down. That would be embarrassing.

Heather sat up; speaking of near nervous break downs, she must seem like some kind of crazy person to the Artist and the others. "Yeah, hehe... Sorry about running out like that I just, uh..." Her eyes wandered from the floor to the walls and back, "I just needed a minute to sort my thoughts." Or just to get away from the bizarre for a moment.

She pulled at one of her fingers in thought, still feeling unsettles. The questions repeating themselves, but she tried not to worry too much about them again. But one of the questions she wondered: What did the Artist mean by forget? Did he have a bad memory? It was probably none of her business, she she didn't bring it up.

"It's OK..." he replied. "I could feel the tension in the dining car was a little high. ...You think that other girl is enjoying her meal? It didn't look cooked all the way..." He shook his head. "No no, that's a horrible way to change the subject..." he muttered to himself.

(( Aiyah, my late reply is late @.@; sorry for not posting in this forum for a while! I've been going through a bit of writer's block ^^; ))

Mama Dog gave a nod of her head when the Artist excused himself to go into the other cart.
Looking to the plate that was in front of her, the young woman smiled as she began to dine on the delicious ( in her eyes) looking meat.

Ignorance was, in the meantime, running around in the dining cart; having finished her dinner a while ago, she reckoned that it was a good time to give her legs a work-out and ran all over the place without a care in the world.

The mysterious man in the back continued to eavesdrop, since his hearing was rather sensitive. He eyed the door to the car behind the duo, now understanding the situation.

"Could have been poisoned," He mumbled to himself, "I wouldn't be surprised if it was. When he holds grudges, that's something to expect..." He sighed in an odd manner, as if he were glad, yet upset at the same time.

"It's a shame that I have nothing up my sleeve in order to make things unfortunate for this passerby... Oh well. The least I can do is watch."

Heather cracked a smile at his remark. "Hehe, well... She seemed to like it." She wondered if it was as 'good' as her own food had looked.

She glanced at the Artist and towards the door they had come through, something urging her to get an answer to something she had been wondering since she first ran into him. The problem was, she wasn't sure how to ask the question.

Maybe the best way to ask a question, is to walk from another question?

"Artist? Wh... Why are you on this train? Are you maybe... Traveling?"

She began to even wonder if this train really went anywhere. Every time she glanced out the window it was just as dark, cold, and barren as the last time she looked-- besides that rush hour. Were the places they passed even full of people? Or just souls?

Everyone had to be going somewhere. There couldn't just be a train you just... get on because there was nowhere else to go.... right?

"M-Me?" he replied. "W-Well... my original intentions aren't the clearest... but I think it was because I wanted to find something new to paint. Inspiration. There has to be more scenes on this line than just the rush hour... thing, and I'll be sure to catch them this time!"