The World is my Layout [Worm AU/Alt Power]
- Thread starter GeneralPatt1000
- Start date
I'm glad to see you back and can't wait to see where you're going.
nice update i really enjoyed it
- Pronouns
- Mr
Ask, and ye shall receive, eh? I asked about this not long ago, and now I have received a new chapter. Hope there's a chapter next month too. If you can get it out on the 27th, that's my birthday. If you can't, no worries. I can wait, though if we go a while without a next chapter, I'll probably poke you on your profile. Hopefully that's okay.
- Location
- Usa
You talked about this Emma having some type of issue that she needs meds. What type of issue is it that she has that she needs to watched so much it seems?
Nice to see an update and glad you guys are back. This has to become a forgotten but but fave worm story with a very cool twist on Taylor's powers and how everyone is dealing with it. I mean you made Armsmaster to less of an asshole that everyone writes him as in their fics.
Nice to see an update and glad you guys are back. This has to become a forgotten but but fave worm story with a very cool twist on Taylor's powers and how everyone is dealing with it. I mean you made Armsmaster to less of an asshole that everyone writes him as in their fics.
Darth Cooter
(Verified Lord of Cooters)(Dark Proprietor)(AP)
- Location
- error -loc root/users/dcooter not found
always glad to see content, especially stories with unique powers like this.
I'm so happy this got an update, a brighter world, less grim derp and characters who think, what more could we ask for.
- Location
- Seattle area
I know, it's been a while, hasn't it? Thank you, Bobot-Man, we will try.
Hopefully this story will always be more wholesome on average than most stories in this universe.
It's good to be back! We're hoping to get posts out more often than we have been so keep an eye out!
Thank you! I enjoyed writing it.
I will endeavor to get another chapter out by then, if not on that exact day. I don't mind being poked. It can be a good encouragement.
DrYuriMom's degree is in psychiatry/psychology and it was her opinion, and I agreed with her, that Emma's trauma from the ABB attack and Sophia's subsequent poisoning of her mind should not have been enough to cause her to dump Taylor. My co-author figures that Emma could have had some underlying mental health problem that was causing issues as well. So that concept has been inserted into the story. Hopefully It doesn't cause anybody to disagree with us too strenuously.
I'm glad to be back writing. This last year has been busy for both of us and we've finally had an opportunity to sit down and get writing again. The itch to do so has been getting to me and DrYuriMom has been inspired by her various Amtrak trips. I'm glad you like my Armsmaster. He's had less time to get set in his ways and I think is improved by having the model railroad bug too.
Thank you, I'm glad to help provide content such as this.
I'm happy that you enjoyed it. And I agree that more brighter and intelligent stories are neeeded.
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- Location
- Somewhere
Should that firefly be a dragonfly?
Is Arnold the husband? If he is, you're calling him by multiple names. Anthony and Arnold. (unless Arnold is somehow a nickname)
- Location
- Seattle area
Honorguard Ra
(Verified Lizard Dude)
Here's my questions at this point- which legal eagle wants to have a go at Taylor, and who are the two bears? Maybe Brian and Aisha?
- Location
- Seattle area
I don't know where you are getting the bear reference from. Did I miss something in my own story?
Honorguard Ra
(Verified Lizard Dude)
I believe so. Annette had a dream about herself as a large owl protecting a Little Owl-aka Taylor, from an eagle that was attacking. At least once that I remember Annette talked about legal eagles- so maybe a politician going against them. She was aided by a fox- aka Emma, and two bears. I'll look for the exact lines later.
- Location
- Somewhere
Couldn't Danny be one of the bears?
Honorguard Ra
(Verified Lizard Dude)
Possible, though we still have a bear left to identify.
Edited for added content.
@GeneralPatt1000
In her mind's eye she visualized a large owl protecting a smaller one from attack by an eagle. The larger owl was vicious in the defense. A young fox and two bears joined the owls when they came to ground and the eagle was driven off.
Chapter 3.3 Annette's dream sequence shortly after she gets home from the hospital and Danny gets her to bed so she can rest before dinner. Taylor and Emma make her family's lasagna with the help of a chef projection.
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That is some deep and intense dream interpretation.
Papa bears tend to not be that caring toward their young.
Honorguard Ra
(Verified Lizard Dude)
All the hints were there, the interesting part was trying to connect them in a way that made sense. Though finding the correct dream sequence meant I needed to find the right chapter it was in. That took up a decent chunk of my lunch break at work, but I'm happy.I've been able to help out a couple times with this story, and I'm pleased I was able to do so again with puzzling this out.
Chapter 4.2
- Location
- Seattle area
A/N:
Merry Christmas everyone! I'm so sorry at the lateness of this chapter, but life has a way of getting in your way sometimes. I won't get into specifics, but let me just say that working retail sucks. In addition, my co-writer and beta reader had to withdraw fully from the project due to her own busy life, so even though I understood fully, I still kinda lost the will to work on this. I want to thank @DrYuriMom for all the hard work she put into this story helping me bring this to life. I couldn't have done it without her. I wanted to get another chapter on Christmas however so here this is. I can't promise regular updates however. They'll come when they are ready. I am grateful for all your patience and understanding and I hope you enjoy this chapter of The World is My Layout.
Chapter 4.2
10:00 am September 1st,
Brockton Bay Trainyards
Roundhouse
"Good Morning everyone! The Dispatcher has tasks for us today." The newly semi-solidified Corporal Jackson announced to a gathered crowd of railroad personnel projections as well as a certain reporter and his cameraman. The Corporal had the 19 other police projections lined up in front of the open Roundhouse doors as well another 20 general workers and 4 engineers.
"Dispatcher is busy today and thus won't be around to check in on us or help around the place. She has asked us to carry out some projects in the meantime." Jackson pointed at the 4 engineers. "First of all, she has asked that two locomotives be fired up to go on expeditions. One locomotive is to go down to the Docks and inspect the General Freight yard there. Dispatcher hasn't had time to look over the area herself and doesn't know the track conditions or the state of the cranes there. The DWU has done some basic maintenance over the years according to her information, but not enough to hold off all the ravages of time. Anything that can be scavenged or reused should be noted down for later recovery."
The Corporal watched as one pair of engineers nodded, accepting the task. "Good. The other pair of you is to take an engine out to the Boat Graveyard and inspect the tracks, cranes and the drydock slips. Dispatcher expects the conditions there to be even worse than at the Docks. Look for buckled rails, damaged cranes, ruined rolling stock or anything else that could hamper operations. Pay special attention to the drydocks. If they are clear and operable, she'll be able to stuff those freighters out in the shipping channel in there for future scrapping or repair. That place also served as the Intermodal facilities so keep an eye out for usable well cars."
After receiving yet another nod, this time from the other pair of engineers, Corporal Jackson, motioned toward the roundhouse and the locomotives inside. "Dispatcher stated that you could take any locomotive you wanted except Roger's Rangers. She also asked that you each take 4 officers for security along with you."
The first pair of engineers considered the question. "We'll take the RS-3 out. She hasn't gotten any exercise yet." "And we will take the GP-9," the other pair piped up.
"Good. Go get them started up and select your accompanying security men."
As the engineers and 8 police peeled away from the group and ran to their selected engines, the Corporal examined the other police projections. "While they go and do that, the rest of you will be split evenly between here and the passenger station. We will be securing it for Amtrak, as they don't have any of their own people in the city."
Five of the police nodded and started off for the passenger station. The other five deployed themselves around the Roundhouse and shop area.
"With all of that out of the way," the semi-corporeal police NCO turned his attention to the laborers and still watching reporters, "Dispatcher would like to have the passenger cars in the workshop repainted and refurbished. Supplies have already been deposited within. Also, she wants two of you to go back to the Loco shops and pour over the wreck of that one engine we couldn't identify to see if we missed anything."
There was a chorus of assent and the workers began to head off to the shops as instructed, leaving Vickery and his cameraman the only ones still standing where the original group had gathered.
"Mr. Vickery, Dispatcher has informed me that should you desire it, you are welcome to tag along with one of the exploration teams or examine other things on the railroad today."
Stan Vickery examined the group of projections with interest as they began to work on their appointed tasks. The men assigned to start up the locomotives were already bounding up the stairs to the cabs while the workers were scurrying off to the car shop, hand tools appearing from nowhere as they entered the building.
"I think I'll go with the GP-9 Corporal. Getting a view of what the Boat Graveyard area looks like should be interesting, considering how long it's been officially abandoned. Jeff can go with the men that will examine the docks." Stan's camera man nodded as the reporter looked over at him.
Returning his gaze to Corporal Jackson, Stan continued speaking. "When I initially arrived here, I wouldn't have left the safe out of my sight, but the last 12 hours of getting to know you has made me feel more comfortable leaving your own people to watch it."
"Thank you for your vote of confidence Mr. Vickery, it means a lot. I'll come along as one of the escorts so I can help explain things along the way. Now let's get going, or they'll leave without us. Come along now!"
The sound of two diesel engines cranking over and then roaring to life put an exclamation point on the end of Jackson's sentence.
Stan nodded to Jackson and then Jeff, who turned and made for the RS-3 which would take him to the Docks. Stan hurried to catch up with Jackson, who already had reached the GP-9 and taking the place of one of the 4 police he had initially sent with its crew. Stan made his way up onto the pilot deck and joined Jackson.
"This is an excellent central spot to keep an eye on things Mr. Vickery and you can easily move to either sideboard if something on one side catches your fancy," Jackson stated as the pair watched the turntable start turning to line up with their locomotive's stall.
A few moments later, the engineer gave a little hoot on its horn and smoothly began to accelerate onto the turntable platform. Vickery felt very few bumps as they crossed over onto it. The engine stopped in the center and Vickery watched as a projection in the turntable control cab manipulated the controls to get its burden rotated to the exit track.
Smoothly doing its job, the turntable soon let the locomotive go on its way into the fueling tracks while it rotated back to let the RS-3 on. Passing under the coal tower he marveled that the wooden structure was still intact after all this time.
"It is a little rickety up top, I must admit sir, but it will serve until we can get it replaced. Hopefully Dispatcher can get on that soon." Jackson said when Vickery commented on the tower.
"So not only can she control trains, she can replace buildings wholesale?" Vickery asked curiously. "Is that safe? How do we know some quirk of her power won't cause the replacement to be unstable?"
"That's why the government has safety inspectors Mr. Vickery. By law they have to come out and inspect our buildings at some point once we get the place running properly and do the same whenever we need to erect a new one."
"Hmm. I suppose that's true. Still, it's amazing that part of her power includes buildings. I've heard it compared to a model train hobbyist by people online. Does it really work that way?"
Jackson nodded, "Dispatcher has a pocket dimension that she works from, which is why she appeared as a projection at the press conference. Imagine that you have an immense model of the city and its railroad facilities scaled down to 1/160 of the real size. That coal tower would only be 6 and a half inches tall."
"And at any time she can take that tower off the model layout and plop down a new one?" Stan asked though he was not really executing or needing an answer. "And it's the same with trains."
"Indeed. Matter of fact, as we move into the Classification Yard, you'll see some of the boxcars that had been left to rot here. Look ahead of us," Jackson pointed ahead of them as the locomotive was switched into the yard by the switching tower in the fueling area.
Laying ahead on one of the outer tracks was a string of 7 maroon 50-foot boxcars. Each had a single gold stripe running down the bottom of the body of the car as well as white lettering denoting their possession by the Boston and Maine. They were behind a line of gondolas but Stan could easily seen them from his vantage point.
As he examined them in passing, Jackson commented on the boxcar's new look. "You may remember these boxcars as rusted hulks that were practically glued to the tracks. Well, Dispatcher took the 7 survivors into her workshop and repainted them, and gave them new wheelsets. This was not a historical paint scheme but she wanted them to match the locomotives."
"I can certainly smell the fresh paint coming off them," Stan commented, "She did a good job, for someone who probably has no painting experience. I imagine they shrunk down to what, 4 inches long or so so she could do that? Marvelous. She'll put all the painters out of business."
Jackson could tell from Vickey's tone that this last remark was said in jest and so said nothing.
The locomotive trundled on down the length of the yard at a gentle 20 miles per hour, leaving the boxcars behind. The pair returned to looking ahead of the GP-9, where the yard began to shrink in size again down to a single track. Off in the distance, the cranes of the Docks and Boat Graveyard rose into the sky.
"The track splits off into two directions at this point," Jackson told him, "South is the Docks and East is the Boat Graveyard, where the Intermodal Terminal is. There are also two old Navy drydocks that double as berths for cargo ships. They are big enough to serve a battleship or a Panamax freighter. Hopefully, they are in decent condition so that Dispatcher can put the wrecked ship at the mouth of the shipping channel in one of them so it is out of the way."
"And how will she manage that?" Stan asked, his curiosity intensifying, "Won't she need to file an Environmental Impact Assessment for a project like that?"
"Most likely, but I don't see a lot of potential for pushback. If we can get the government's support, which is likely, as any economic recovery requires the full opening of the port, then an EIA will be a small roadblock," Jackson stated as their locomotive was switched to the East and the RS-3 behind them was sent south. "Here we go, off to the Graveyard. Keep an eye out for buckled rails, anything bent out of shape that is. I'll take note of it and Dispatcher will replace it later."
Stan nodded and kept out a sharp eye. Almost immediately he noted several such rails on lines adjacent to the main one. The latter, which was rusty and somewhat overgrown by grass and weeds in spots, was still passable. He passed on which rails would need maintenance as they went. He noted three sad-looking tugboats as they pulled along the first part of the quayside. It had obviously been some time since they had received any work.
Jackson meanwhile had one of the other policemen hop off and serve as a switchman as there was nobody at the local switch tower to help them go further into the Graveyard. As the projection manually switched them onto the track that would lead northeast, Jackson pointed to the inactive cranes that stood before them on the quayside. "The cranes all look to be in decent condition. Rusty in places, but decent. They'll need thorough maintenance before we can use them."
Stan elected to ask another question, "So how does Dispatcher expect to get them in operation again? Does she have a contact somewhere to help with that?"
"I imagine the Dockworkers have someone qualified to operate and maintain them. They once did all the work up here, but with the port closed, there's no point, and no money to bother."
Stan rubbed his chin, "Of course, I should have thought of that. The Dockworkers will be all over this opportunity." He pointed out to the 6-track storage yard that the locomotive was passing now, "At least there seem to be usable… well cars I think you called them? About two strings of ten it looks. Some with and without containers. And there are more containers scattered around the quayside if you end up needing them."
"Excellent! That is good news," Jackson exclaimed, "That's fewer cars for us to buy or lease later. As for the containers, some will need to be scrapped if they are in poor condition but there should be plenty that we can use. Let's move on now shall we? We still have to look at the docks and any buildings that are near the tracks."
The locomotive kept moving forward, getting switched onto a single northerly track that would pass the two drydock slips. Stan shaded his eyes from the morning sun. "Hmm.. one appears to be flooded while the other is empty. No craft that I can see. I wonder why the one was empty? Maybe it was shut down for cleaning or something when everything went crazy during the riots? If so, that's good news for getting that freighter out of the way."
"Exactly so. Another good point of news for Dispatcher. We'll have to inspect the pumps later to see if they need work. They most likely will, like everything else around here." Jackson turned to wave up at the locomotive cab and shouted, "All right, all we have to do is investigate the end of the line here and then we can go back! There's supposed to be another shop up here. Let's see if there is anything in it."
"Right ya are!" The engineer called back and pushed the faithful GP-9 forward once more. Passing through the last switch on the line, they took note of several warehouses off to the left that were covering up what was at the end of the line. Soon enough though, they turned around the corner of the closest warehouse to the tracks and came to a sudden stop.
Sitting at the end of the tracks was a single three-stall shop. All the doors were closed up so they couldn't see what was inside but it looked abandoned from this distance. "Alright everyone, let's go see what this shed is hiding. One engineer and an officer should stay with the locomotive, everyone else follow me!" Jackson turned to Stan, "Want to help me investigate this place. It might be storing some juicy engines in there."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Stan announced happily. He clambered down the steps of the GP-9's pilot deck and strode toward the shop, Corporal Jackson, one engineer and two officers close behind.
Creaking open the center door, the small party walked in on a scene of some disturbance. There were flakes of rust all over the place, but this sight was quickly overshadowed by the forms of the massive steam locomotives rising on either side, each on their own track.
Stan looked up and whistled at the sight of them. "Jackpot!" he exclaimed to Corporal Jackson. "Another two steam engines to add to your fleet." The reporter walked down the 4-8-2 locomotive's side, running his hand along the massive side rods till he got to the nameplate. "Hmm, Lily Pons eh? Wasn't that the name of a famous French-American opera singer? Interesting." Stan turned to look at Jackson, "It looks like someone has been here caring for these engines. All this rust removal is recent by the look of it."
Indeed, the two engines looked like an entire restoration crew had given each locomotive the best external revival possible, minus a paint job. The white striping and lettering were faded but the men could still read the road numbers and railroad lettering on the engines and tenders. There were also piles of ashes near the front end and cabs of each engine.
The engineer bent over one pile to examine it. "It looks like whoever cleaned up the engines also cleaned out their smoke boxes and fireboxes. Someone must have been using them to keep warm, because they should have been empty when the Railroad Museum abandoned the locomotives."
Corporal Jackson pondered the view in front of him and wondered aloud, "So someone recently found these engines and has been cleaning them up. My questions are, have the engines been fully repaired, not just cleaned up, and is our friend still here?"
No one spoke for several minutes as the group began to silently move around the shed looking for the cleaner. Stan continued his walk down the side of the Lily Pons all the way to the end of the tender. Not seeing anything, he made to move around the back of the tender but a sudden noise from below caught his ear. Looking down, he saw a black void beneath the tender and after a moment, heard another snore.
Bending down, Stan was surprised to find a long mechanical work pit beneath the locomotive and tender. Little light was passing into the pit but Stan could clearly see a feminine form sleeping at the bottom. A large rolling suitcase served as a pillow while a smaller duffle bag had tools and a welder's mask laying scattered around it. The female was rather scruffily dressed as well. All this gave Stan the clues he needed to determine who the stranger probably was.
Standing back up, Stan looked around to locate Jackson, then quietly walked over to him. "Corporal, I think I know why Squealer wasn't involved in the Merchant attack the other night."
Jackson's eyebrows rose, "And why do you think that?"
"Because currently, she is hiding out in the mechanical pit underneath the Lily Pons. The form down there resembles her anyway. What do you want to do?"
"Hmm. Do you think she had a falling out with Skidmark? That would explain her absence from the fight and her presence here." Jackson scratched his mustache.
"Perhaps. Do you want to call it in to the PRT? I'm sure they'll be happy to take her in," Stan suggested.
The Corporal considered that for moment, then shook his head. "This is too much of an opportunity to pass up. Squealer is a transportation tinker, and what better way to work off her crimes then helping out with the restoration of the city's transportation industry? I will consult with Dispatcher about making such an offer. I am sure that she'll jump at the chance to have some help in the engineering department. I'll make the offer once our new friend awakens."
Stan nodded in understanding. "That is an excellent idea. While you're doing that, I'll tell Jeff and his companions to get over here and get some pictures of the place. These engines are a gold mine of excellent pictures waiting to be taken."
The Corporal and the Reporter nodded to each other and separated a little for courtesy's sake. One got in contact with a certain Yardmaster while the other got on the horn with his cameraman.
Taylor's POV
Forgive my interrupting Taylor, but the explorers have found something in the Boat Graveyard that you might be interested in.
Taylor and company were still waiting for the diner to open up for customers when Yardmaster's message came through. The party was still grouped up by the benches near the locomotives, catching up on what had happened since college and the Lustrum days.
Turning her attention inward as her mother conversed with her friend Taylor asked, Why? What's going on?
Well, in addition to examining the area for resources and tallying it's repair needs, the exploration party found two B&M steam locomotives that were abandoned in an old shed. A Mountain-type and Santa Fe-type. Yardmaster sent along an image of the two locomotives being combed over by projections.
Taylor's eyebrows rose a little at that. Woah, that's pretty neat. Roger will like the company. But I feel like that's not all you would like to relay.
You're right. Stan discovered a sleeping woman under the Mountain-type who bears a strong resemblance to Squealer. Corporal Jackson is wondering what you want to do with her. He said to remember that despite the wrong she's done, her Tinkering skills could prove beneficial to us when locomotives need repairs and maintenance. Note that she's already scraped off all the rust in the time she's been here.
Taylor was disgruntled at hearing all this. Yardmaster was not wrong, but it bothered her that Squealer might get away with her crimes against her family, among others. Hrrmmm you've got a point there, even though it rankles me. She'll have to work hard at whatever task we set for her though. Get the guys to wake her up so they can pass along whatever offer we come up with.
Understood.
Taylor sighed, knowing that convincing her mom that Squealer could be a help to them might be difficult.
Well, let's get it over with.
Taylor leaned over and spoke lowly in Annette's ear. "Hey mom. If my crew found a certain Tinker known as Squealer tending to a pair of steam locomotives in the Boat Graveyard, would you prefer we take her on as an employee or throw her to the PRT. She could be a big help repairing and maintaining locomotives. I know she's crossed the family, but perhaps this could be a chance for her to turn her life around."
Annette froze in the middle of the conversation she was having with her friend, not having expected the question. Her expression changed from surprise, to anger then consideration. This process took a few minutes before she started speaking slowly. "That would be useful yes, but the girl would probably need some medical attention to get her back to what most people would consider normal. I'm sure she's in the middle of withdrawal and is having a hard time by herself."
Annette mused to herself for a few seconds again before continuing. "At the same time, she should have some sort of penalty to work off, even if it's just a minor one. We could get a hold of the PRT and the Mayor's office, tell them we found Squealer and want to make a deal where she would work helping rebuild the city's infrastructure instead of serving time. That way, not only do we get an able helper but the city and the PRT don't have to spend the money detaining and rehabilitating her. After a suitable period of time, she would be a free woman and we could officially hire her."
Taylor nodded though she still looked concerned, "We would still provide room and board for her right? And maybe enough of an allowance to get a new wardrobe and a little spending money?"
Annette smiled. While she was happy that Taylor was trying to pursue justice for the pair of them, she was also glad that Taylor was making sure the subject of that justice was comfortable. "Of course dear. We don't want to make her feel unwelcome despite what she has done."
Taylor returned Annette's smile with one of her own. "Good, because I feel we're going to need her."
Sherrel's POV
For once in her life, a certain Tinker was sleeping soundly away from all the stressful events that had complicated her life recently. Sure, her bed was a concrete mechanical pit but it didn't really bother her all that much. It was the sudden clanging of someone rapping on the side of the empty tender above her that disturbed her rest.
Her eyes opened suddenly in response to the startling noise. Blinking rapidly, she tried to get her thoughts together as her hazy mind awakened from it's slumber. Another series of clangs made her bolt up into a sitting position. What the hell is going on out there?! She wondered with alarm. Then she heard a voice calling out to her as her mind and hearing returned to her.
"Miss Squealer, I wonder if you might be amenable to speaking with my friends and I. Don't worry, we mean you no harm."
Sherrel looked around and saw a number of sets of shoes and legs from her position in the pit. "Who is we?" She called out cautiously in a weak and tired voice.
"Corporal Jackson, Railroad Police and Stan Vickery, Reporter. Please Miss Squealer, we only want to talk."
"Don't call me that!" Sherrel called out with some intensity, despite her tiredness. "That's the name that idiot Skidmark gave me. I'm done with him and that life. He did nothing but keep me drugged up to do his dirty work."
"Then what shall I call you?"
Sherrel Bailey paused. Did she really want to give her own name to these people? It's not like it matters at this point now, she thought. "My name is Sherrel. Sherrel Bailey."
"Very well then Miss Bailey. Let your cape name be no more then. Would you come out so we can discuss things?"
A cold feeling went through her and Sherrel shivered. She looked up and saw a ghostly outline reaching out with one arm to place a hand on her shoulder. A trace of an encouraging smile was on the faint form's face. Sherrel gave a shy smile in return. "Yes, I'll come out. Lily seems to think you are okay. Hang on, let me throw up my things."
Sounds of puzzlement reached her ears, but the Tinker paid them no mind. Instead, she gathered up her bag of tools and the suitcase of money and threw them up and out of the pit. Both were heavy for their size and each caused the two pairs of legs nearest the tender to step back.
She struggled up the ladder that led back up to ground level. She almost tripped as she made the last step up but a slightly ethereal hand reached out and caught her. Looking up, she saw a worried frown on the face of a man in a 3-piece navy suit with a badge pinned to his right breast. His whole body had the same slightly ethereal hue to it as his hand did.
She returned the frown with a tired, thankful smile. Leaning up against the side of the tender, she asked, "So, what can I do for you fellas?" Sherrel's eyes darted around the shed, taking in the sight of the projections that were busy carrying out thorough examinations of the two steam locomotives. Through the now-open shed doors, she could see two diesel engines aligned with the steam engine's stall tracks.
They're probably planning on moving them out. I'm glad. It's not like I could get these two running again all by my lonesome.
"Miss Bailey, you said that 'Lily thought we were okay'. Who exactly is this Lily you spoke of?" Asked the second man, whose outfit was screaming 'reporter' to Sherrel's semi-frazzled senses.
Sherrel reached up and gently patted the side of the tender of the Lily Pons. "I meant this old lady here. From the moment I first arrived here, I got the feeling that she was keeping an eye on me. Over the past couple days as I cleaned her and Saint Nick over there I've formed a relationship with her I can't quite explain. I think her spirit is trying to wake up but doesn't seem to have the oomph she needs."
The two men looked at each other, the reporter mouthing "Saint Nick?" to the ethereal man, whose eyebrows had risen at the word 'spirit'. The cop spoke up again for the first time in a few minutes. "So you named the Santa Fe type locomotive? Is Saint Nick the whole name or is short for something?"
"A Santa Fe type huh? I wondered why the name I came up with felt appropriate. And yes, it's short for Saint Nicholas. Or just Nicholas. Funnily enough, after I gave him the name, I started getting a similar feeling from him as Lily. Strange, isn't it?"
"Indeed," replied the reporter, Stan Vickery, if she remembered correctly. "Let's get back to the supernatural stuff later," he motioned down to the huge rolling suitcase, "What do you have in here, if you don't mind me asking."
"Oh that?" Sherrel looked down at the suitcase. "When Skidmark went out to raid the Trainyard, I raided the safe. Now that he's locked up, he won't be missing the 10 or 11 million dollars that were in there." A wide grin spread across her face as the two men went silent, stunned expressions on their face. The silence would only be broken by the clatter of the diesel engines clasping onto the steam engines with their couplers. "Perhaps it could be my starting investment in whatever project is going on in the Trainyard?"
Merry Christmas everyone! I'm so sorry at the lateness of this chapter, but life has a way of getting in your way sometimes. I won't get into specifics, but let me just say that working retail sucks. In addition, my co-writer and beta reader had to withdraw fully from the project due to her own busy life, so even though I understood fully, I still kinda lost the will to work on this. I want to thank @DrYuriMom for all the hard work she put into this story helping me bring this to life. I couldn't have done it without her. I wanted to get another chapter on Christmas however so here this is. I can't promise regular updates however. They'll come when they are ready. I am grateful for all your patience and understanding and I hope you enjoy this chapter of The World is My Layout.
Chapter 4.2
10:00 am September 1st,
Brockton Bay Trainyards
Roundhouse
"Good Morning everyone! The Dispatcher has tasks for us today." The newly semi-solidified Corporal Jackson announced to a gathered crowd of railroad personnel projections as well as a certain reporter and his cameraman. The Corporal had the 19 other police projections lined up in front of the open Roundhouse doors as well another 20 general workers and 4 engineers.
"Dispatcher is busy today and thus won't be around to check in on us or help around the place. She has asked us to carry out some projects in the meantime." Jackson pointed at the 4 engineers. "First of all, she has asked that two locomotives be fired up to go on expeditions. One locomotive is to go down to the Docks and inspect the General Freight yard there. Dispatcher hasn't had time to look over the area herself and doesn't know the track conditions or the state of the cranes there. The DWU has done some basic maintenance over the years according to her information, but not enough to hold off all the ravages of time. Anything that can be scavenged or reused should be noted down for later recovery."
The Corporal watched as one pair of engineers nodded, accepting the task. "Good. The other pair of you is to take an engine out to the Boat Graveyard and inspect the tracks, cranes and the drydock slips. Dispatcher expects the conditions there to be even worse than at the Docks. Look for buckled rails, damaged cranes, ruined rolling stock or anything else that could hamper operations. Pay special attention to the drydocks. If they are clear and operable, she'll be able to stuff those freighters out in the shipping channel in there for future scrapping or repair. That place also served as the Intermodal facilities so keep an eye out for usable well cars."
After receiving yet another nod, this time from the other pair of engineers, Corporal Jackson, motioned toward the roundhouse and the locomotives inside. "Dispatcher stated that you could take any locomotive you wanted except Roger's Rangers. She also asked that you each take 4 officers for security along with you."
The first pair of engineers considered the question. "We'll take the RS-3 out. She hasn't gotten any exercise yet." "And we will take the GP-9," the other pair piped up.
"Good. Go get them started up and select your accompanying security men."
As the engineers and 8 police peeled away from the group and ran to their selected engines, the Corporal examined the other police projections. "While they go and do that, the rest of you will be split evenly between here and the passenger station. We will be securing it for Amtrak, as they don't have any of their own people in the city."
Five of the police nodded and started off for the passenger station. The other five deployed themselves around the Roundhouse and shop area.
"With all of that out of the way," the semi-corporeal police NCO turned his attention to the laborers and still watching reporters, "Dispatcher would like to have the passenger cars in the workshop repainted and refurbished. Supplies have already been deposited within. Also, she wants two of you to go back to the Loco shops and pour over the wreck of that one engine we couldn't identify to see if we missed anything."
There was a chorus of assent and the workers began to head off to the shops as instructed, leaving Vickery and his cameraman the only ones still standing where the original group had gathered.
"Mr. Vickery, Dispatcher has informed me that should you desire it, you are welcome to tag along with one of the exploration teams or examine other things on the railroad today."
Stan Vickery examined the group of projections with interest as they began to work on their appointed tasks. The men assigned to start up the locomotives were already bounding up the stairs to the cabs while the workers were scurrying off to the car shop, hand tools appearing from nowhere as they entered the building.
"I think I'll go with the GP-9 Corporal. Getting a view of what the Boat Graveyard area looks like should be interesting, considering how long it's been officially abandoned. Jeff can go with the men that will examine the docks." Stan's camera man nodded as the reporter looked over at him.
Returning his gaze to Corporal Jackson, Stan continued speaking. "When I initially arrived here, I wouldn't have left the safe out of my sight, but the last 12 hours of getting to know you has made me feel more comfortable leaving your own people to watch it."
"Thank you for your vote of confidence Mr. Vickery, it means a lot. I'll come along as one of the escorts so I can help explain things along the way. Now let's get going, or they'll leave without us. Come along now!"
The sound of two diesel engines cranking over and then roaring to life put an exclamation point on the end of Jackson's sentence.
Stan nodded to Jackson and then Jeff, who turned and made for the RS-3 which would take him to the Docks. Stan hurried to catch up with Jackson, who already had reached the GP-9 and taking the place of one of the 4 police he had initially sent with its crew. Stan made his way up onto the pilot deck and joined Jackson.
"This is an excellent central spot to keep an eye on things Mr. Vickery and you can easily move to either sideboard if something on one side catches your fancy," Jackson stated as the pair watched the turntable start turning to line up with their locomotive's stall.
A few moments later, the engineer gave a little hoot on its horn and smoothly began to accelerate onto the turntable platform. Vickery felt very few bumps as they crossed over onto it. The engine stopped in the center and Vickery watched as a projection in the turntable control cab manipulated the controls to get its burden rotated to the exit track.
Smoothly doing its job, the turntable soon let the locomotive go on its way into the fueling tracks while it rotated back to let the RS-3 on. Passing under the coal tower he marveled that the wooden structure was still intact after all this time.
"It is a little rickety up top, I must admit sir, but it will serve until we can get it replaced. Hopefully Dispatcher can get on that soon." Jackson said when Vickery commented on the tower.
"So not only can she control trains, she can replace buildings wholesale?" Vickery asked curiously. "Is that safe? How do we know some quirk of her power won't cause the replacement to be unstable?"
"That's why the government has safety inspectors Mr. Vickery. By law they have to come out and inspect our buildings at some point once we get the place running properly and do the same whenever we need to erect a new one."
"Hmm. I suppose that's true. Still, it's amazing that part of her power includes buildings. I've heard it compared to a model train hobbyist by people online. Does it really work that way?"
Jackson nodded, "Dispatcher has a pocket dimension that she works from, which is why she appeared as a projection at the press conference. Imagine that you have an immense model of the city and its railroad facilities scaled down to 1/160 of the real size. That coal tower would only be 6 and a half inches tall."
"And at any time she can take that tower off the model layout and plop down a new one?" Stan asked though he was not really executing or needing an answer. "And it's the same with trains."
"Indeed. Matter of fact, as we move into the Classification Yard, you'll see some of the boxcars that had been left to rot here. Look ahead of us," Jackson pointed ahead of them as the locomotive was switched into the yard by the switching tower in the fueling area.
Laying ahead on one of the outer tracks was a string of 7 maroon 50-foot boxcars. Each had a single gold stripe running down the bottom of the body of the car as well as white lettering denoting their possession by the Boston and Maine. They were behind a line of gondolas but Stan could easily seen them from his vantage point.
As he examined them in passing, Jackson commented on the boxcar's new look. "You may remember these boxcars as rusted hulks that were practically glued to the tracks. Well, Dispatcher took the 7 survivors into her workshop and repainted them, and gave them new wheelsets. This was not a historical paint scheme but she wanted them to match the locomotives."
"I can certainly smell the fresh paint coming off them," Stan commented, "She did a good job, for someone who probably has no painting experience. I imagine they shrunk down to what, 4 inches long or so so she could do that? Marvelous. She'll put all the painters out of business."
Jackson could tell from Vickey's tone that this last remark was said in jest and so said nothing.
The locomotive trundled on down the length of the yard at a gentle 20 miles per hour, leaving the boxcars behind. The pair returned to looking ahead of the GP-9, where the yard began to shrink in size again down to a single track. Off in the distance, the cranes of the Docks and Boat Graveyard rose into the sky.
"The track splits off into two directions at this point," Jackson told him, "South is the Docks and East is the Boat Graveyard, where the Intermodal Terminal is. There are also two old Navy drydocks that double as berths for cargo ships. They are big enough to serve a battleship or a Panamax freighter. Hopefully, they are in decent condition so that Dispatcher can put the wrecked ship at the mouth of the shipping channel in one of them so it is out of the way."
"And how will she manage that?" Stan asked, his curiosity intensifying, "Won't she need to file an Environmental Impact Assessment for a project like that?"
"Most likely, but I don't see a lot of potential for pushback. If we can get the government's support, which is likely, as any economic recovery requires the full opening of the port, then an EIA will be a small roadblock," Jackson stated as their locomotive was switched to the East and the RS-3 behind them was sent south. "Here we go, off to the Graveyard. Keep an eye out for buckled rails, anything bent out of shape that is. I'll take note of it and Dispatcher will replace it later."
Stan nodded and kept out a sharp eye. Almost immediately he noted several such rails on lines adjacent to the main one. The latter, which was rusty and somewhat overgrown by grass and weeds in spots, was still passable. He passed on which rails would need maintenance as they went. He noted three sad-looking tugboats as they pulled along the first part of the quayside. It had obviously been some time since they had received any work.
Jackson meanwhile had one of the other policemen hop off and serve as a switchman as there was nobody at the local switch tower to help them go further into the Graveyard. As the projection manually switched them onto the track that would lead northeast, Jackson pointed to the inactive cranes that stood before them on the quayside. "The cranes all look to be in decent condition. Rusty in places, but decent. They'll need thorough maintenance before we can use them."
Stan elected to ask another question, "So how does Dispatcher expect to get them in operation again? Does she have a contact somewhere to help with that?"
"I imagine the Dockworkers have someone qualified to operate and maintain them. They once did all the work up here, but with the port closed, there's no point, and no money to bother."
Stan rubbed his chin, "Of course, I should have thought of that. The Dockworkers will be all over this opportunity." He pointed out to the 6-track storage yard that the locomotive was passing now, "At least there seem to be usable… well cars I think you called them? About two strings of ten it looks. Some with and without containers. And there are more containers scattered around the quayside if you end up needing them."
"Excellent! That is good news," Jackson exclaimed, "That's fewer cars for us to buy or lease later. As for the containers, some will need to be scrapped if they are in poor condition but there should be plenty that we can use. Let's move on now shall we? We still have to look at the docks and any buildings that are near the tracks."
The locomotive kept moving forward, getting switched onto a single northerly track that would pass the two drydock slips. Stan shaded his eyes from the morning sun. "Hmm.. one appears to be flooded while the other is empty. No craft that I can see. I wonder why the one was empty? Maybe it was shut down for cleaning or something when everything went crazy during the riots? If so, that's good news for getting that freighter out of the way."
"Exactly so. Another good point of news for Dispatcher. We'll have to inspect the pumps later to see if they need work. They most likely will, like everything else around here." Jackson turned to wave up at the locomotive cab and shouted, "All right, all we have to do is investigate the end of the line here and then we can go back! There's supposed to be another shop up here. Let's see if there is anything in it."
"Right ya are!" The engineer called back and pushed the faithful GP-9 forward once more. Passing through the last switch on the line, they took note of several warehouses off to the left that were covering up what was at the end of the line. Soon enough though, they turned around the corner of the closest warehouse to the tracks and came to a sudden stop.
Sitting at the end of the tracks was a single three-stall shop. All the doors were closed up so they couldn't see what was inside but it looked abandoned from this distance. "Alright everyone, let's go see what this shed is hiding. One engineer and an officer should stay with the locomotive, everyone else follow me!" Jackson turned to Stan, "Want to help me investigate this place. It might be storing some juicy engines in there."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Stan announced happily. He clambered down the steps of the GP-9's pilot deck and strode toward the shop, Corporal Jackson, one engineer and two officers close behind.
Creaking open the center door, the small party walked in on a scene of some disturbance. There were flakes of rust all over the place, but this sight was quickly overshadowed by the forms of the massive steam locomotives rising on either side, each on their own track.
Stan looked up and whistled at the sight of them. "Jackpot!" he exclaimed to Corporal Jackson. "Another two steam engines to add to your fleet." The reporter walked down the 4-8-2 locomotive's side, running his hand along the massive side rods till he got to the nameplate. "Hmm, Lily Pons eh? Wasn't that the name of a famous French-American opera singer? Interesting." Stan turned to look at Jackson, "It looks like someone has been here caring for these engines. All this rust removal is recent by the look of it."
Indeed, the two engines looked like an entire restoration crew had given each locomotive the best external revival possible, minus a paint job. The white striping and lettering were faded but the men could still read the road numbers and railroad lettering on the engines and tenders. There were also piles of ashes near the front end and cabs of each engine.
The engineer bent over one pile to examine it. "It looks like whoever cleaned up the engines also cleaned out their smoke boxes and fireboxes. Someone must have been using them to keep warm, because they should have been empty when the Railroad Museum abandoned the locomotives."
Corporal Jackson pondered the view in front of him and wondered aloud, "So someone recently found these engines and has been cleaning them up. My questions are, have the engines been fully repaired, not just cleaned up, and is our friend still here?"
No one spoke for several minutes as the group began to silently move around the shed looking for the cleaner. Stan continued his walk down the side of the Lily Pons all the way to the end of the tender. Not seeing anything, he made to move around the back of the tender but a sudden noise from below caught his ear. Looking down, he saw a black void beneath the tender and after a moment, heard another snore.
Bending down, Stan was surprised to find a long mechanical work pit beneath the locomotive and tender. Little light was passing into the pit but Stan could clearly see a feminine form sleeping at the bottom. A large rolling suitcase served as a pillow while a smaller duffle bag had tools and a welder's mask laying scattered around it. The female was rather scruffily dressed as well. All this gave Stan the clues he needed to determine who the stranger probably was.
Standing back up, Stan looked around to locate Jackson, then quietly walked over to him. "Corporal, I think I know why Squealer wasn't involved in the Merchant attack the other night."
Jackson's eyebrows rose, "And why do you think that?"
"Because currently, she is hiding out in the mechanical pit underneath the Lily Pons. The form down there resembles her anyway. What do you want to do?"
"Hmm. Do you think she had a falling out with Skidmark? That would explain her absence from the fight and her presence here." Jackson scratched his mustache.
"Perhaps. Do you want to call it in to the PRT? I'm sure they'll be happy to take her in," Stan suggested.
The Corporal considered that for moment, then shook his head. "This is too much of an opportunity to pass up. Squealer is a transportation tinker, and what better way to work off her crimes then helping out with the restoration of the city's transportation industry? I will consult with Dispatcher about making such an offer. I am sure that she'll jump at the chance to have some help in the engineering department. I'll make the offer once our new friend awakens."
Stan nodded in understanding. "That is an excellent idea. While you're doing that, I'll tell Jeff and his companions to get over here and get some pictures of the place. These engines are a gold mine of excellent pictures waiting to be taken."
The Corporal and the Reporter nodded to each other and separated a little for courtesy's sake. One got in contact with a certain Yardmaster while the other got on the horn with his cameraman.
Taylor's POV
Forgive my interrupting Taylor, but the explorers have found something in the Boat Graveyard that you might be interested in.
Taylor and company were still waiting for the diner to open up for customers when Yardmaster's message came through. The party was still grouped up by the benches near the locomotives, catching up on what had happened since college and the Lustrum days.
Turning her attention inward as her mother conversed with her friend Taylor asked, Why? What's going on?
Well, in addition to examining the area for resources and tallying it's repair needs, the exploration party found two B&M steam locomotives that were abandoned in an old shed. A Mountain-type and Santa Fe-type. Yardmaster sent along an image of the two locomotives being combed over by projections.
Taylor's eyebrows rose a little at that. Woah, that's pretty neat. Roger will like the company. But I feel like that's not all you would like to relay.
You're right. Stan discovered a sleeping woman under the Mountain-type who bears a strong resemblance to Squealer. Corporal Jackson is wondering what you want to do with her. He said to remember that despite the wrong she's done, her Tinkering skills could prove beneficial to us when locomotives need repairs and maintenance. Note that she's already scraped off all the rust in the time she's been here.
Taylor was disgruntled at hearing all this. Yardmaster was not wrong, but it bothered her that Squealer might get away with her crimes against her family, among others. Hrrmmm you've got a point there, even though it rankles me. She'll have to work hard at whatever task we set for her though. Get the guys to wake her up so they can pass along whatever offer we come up with.
Understood.
Taylor sighed, knowing that convincing her mom that Squealer could be a help to them might be difficult.
Well, let's get it over with.
Taylor leaned over and spoke lowly in Annette's ear. "Hey mom. If my crew found a certain Tinker known as Squealer tending to a pair of steam locomotives in the Boat Graveyard, would you prefer we take her on as an employee or throw her to the PRT. She could be a big help repairing and maintaining locomotives. I know she's crossed the family, but perhaps this could be a chance for her to turn her life around."
Annette froze in the middle of the conversation she was having with her friend, not having expected the question. Her expression changed from surprise, to anger then consideration. This process took a few minutes before she started speaking slowly. "That would be useful yes, but the girl would probably need some medical attention to get her back to what most people would consider normal. I'm sure she's in the middle of withdrawal and is having a hard time by herself."
Annette mused to herself for a few seconds again before continuing. "At the same time, she should have some sort of penalty to work off, even if it's just a minor one. We could get a hold of the PRT and the Mayor's office, tell them we found Squealer and want to make a deal where she would work helping rebuild the city's infrastructure instead of serving time. That way, not only do we get an able helper but the city and the PRT don't have to spend the money detaining and rehabilitating her. After a suitable period of time, she would be a free woman and we could officially hire her."
Taylor nodded though she still looked concerned, "We would still provide room and board for her right? And maybe enough of an allowance to get a new wardrobe and a little spending money?"
Annette smiled. While she was happy that Taylor was trying to pursue justice for the pair of them, she was also glad that Taylor was making sure the subject of that justice was comfortable. "Of course dear. We don't want to make her feel unwelcome despite what she has done."
Taylor returned Annette's smile with one of her own. "Good, because I feel we're going to need her."
Sherrel's POV
For once in her life, a certain Tinker was sleeping soundly away from all the stressful events that had complicated her life recently. Sure, her bed was a concrete mechanical pit but it didn't really bother her all that much. It was the sudden clanging of someone rapping on the side of the empty tender above her that disturbed her rest.
Her eyes opened suddenly in response to the startling noise. Blinking rapidly, she tried to get her thoughts together as her hazy mind awakened from it's slumber. Another series of clangs made her bolt up into a sitting position. What the hell is going on out there?! She wondered with alarm. Then she heard a voice calling out to her as her mind and hearing returned to her.
"Miss Squealer, I wonder if you might be amenable to speaking with my friends and I. Don't worry, we mean you no harm."
Sherrel looked around and saw a number of sets of shoes and legs from her position in the pit. "Who is we?" She called out cautiously in a weak and tired voice.
"Corporal Jackson, Railroad Police and Stan Vickery, Reporter. Please Miss Squealer, we only want to talk."
"Don't call me that!" Sherrel called out with some intensity, despite her tiredness. "That's the name that idiot Skidmark gave me. I'm done with him and that life. He did nothing but keep me drugged up to do his dirty work."
"Then what shall I call you?"
Sherrel Bailey paused. Did she really want to give her own name to these people? It's not like it matters at this point now, she thought. "My name is Sherrel. Sherrel Bailey."
"Very well then Miss Bailey. Let your cape name be no more then. Would you come out so we can discuss things?"
A cold feeling went through her and Sherrel shivered. She looked up and saw a ghostly outline reaching out with one arm to place a hand on her shoulder. A trace of an encouraging smile was on the faint form's face. Sherrel gave a shy smile in return. "Yes, I'll come out. Lily seems to think you are okay. Hang on, let me throw up my things."
Sounds of puzzlement reached her ears, but the Tinker paid them no mind. Instead, she gathered up her bag of tools and the suitcase of money and threw them up and out of the pit. Both were heavy for their size and each caused the two pairs of legs nearest the tender to step back.
She struggled up the ladder that led back up to ground level. She almost tripped as she made the last step up but a slightly ethereal hand reached out and caught her. Looking up, she saw a worried frown on the face of a man in a 3-piece navy suit with a badge pinned to his right breast. His whole body had the same slightly ethereal hue to it as his hand did.
She returned the frown with a tired, thankful smile. Leaning up against the side of the tender, she asked, "So, what can I do for you fellas?" Sherrel's eyes darted around the shed, taking in the sight of the projections that were busy carrying out thorough examinations of the two steam locomotives. Through the now-open shed doors, she could see two diesel engines aligned with the steam engine's stall tracks.
They're probably planning on moving them out. I'm glad. It's not like I could get these two running again all by my lonesome.
"Miss Bailey, you said that 'Lily thought we were okay'. Who exactly is this Lily you spoke of?" Asked the second man, whose outfit was screaming 'reporter' to Sherrel's semi-frazzled senses.
Sherrel reached up and gently patted the side of the tender of the Lily Pons. "I meant this old lady here. From the moment I first arrived here, I got the feeling that she was keeping an eye on me. Over the past couple days as I cleaned her and Saint Nick over there I've formed a relationship with her I can't quite explain. I think her spirit is trying to wake up but doesn't seem to have the oomph she needs."
The two men looked at each other, the reporter mouthing "Saint Nick?" to the ethereal man, whose eyebrows had risen at the word 'spirit'. The cop spoke up again for the first time in a few minutes. "So you named the Santa Fe type locomotive? Is Saint Nick the whole name or is short for something?"
"A Santa Fe type huh? I wondered why the name I came up with felt appropriate. And yes, it's short for Saint Nicholas. Or just Nicholas. Funnily enough, after I gave him the name, I started getting a similar feeling from him as Lily. Strange, isn't it?"
"Indeed," replied the reporter, Stan Vickery, if she remembered correctly. "Let's get back to the supernatural stuff later," he motioned down to the huge rolling suitcase, "What do you have in here, if you don't mind me asking."
"Oh that?" Sherrel looked down at the suitcase. "When Skidmark went out to raid the Trainyard, I raided the safe. Now that he's locked up, he won't be missing the 10 or 11 million dollars that were in there." A wide grin spread across her face as the two men went silent, stunned expressions on their face. The silence would only be broken by the clatter of the diesel engines clasping onto the steam engines with their couplers. "Perhaps it could be my starting investment in whatever project is going on in the Trainyard?"
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nice to see this get a update also merry christmas and happy holidays and new years
also merry christmas and happy holidays and new years 
Tisaku
Head Chief Thinkomancer
-Diesel locomotives take a while to get going. 10-20 minutes before they're hot enough to run properly.-
there
-If she was on opioids then she needs medical attention desperately. Opium withdrawl can be lethal, and I doubt that Skidmark didn't have her on some.-
engine's
- Location
- Usa
Wow, it is back from the dead.
Thank you for the cool Xmas present.
Sorry to hear the good doc had to bow out from helping. Thank you for your help doc in this story.
Nice update and nice way squealer is going to helpful with some very good cash to invest in the project.
Thank you for the cool Xmas present.
Sorry to hear the good doc had to bow out from helping. Thank you for your help doc in this story.
Nice update and nice way squealer is going to helpful with some very good cash to invest in the project.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Well, with ten million to invest, we know what Squealer's new cape name has to be... Tycoon.