-Karma PoliceAND as you may have noticed from my rummaging, writing was a little- not so much. (I'm so glad no one expects coherency from me on this blog. It makes me smile)-unpleasant teenagers-betrayal?-fantasy/dark green-Honour belief-lost-fight-do they stick together?-Everybody dies?-Fog
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Some whiny kid at the front of the car kept whining, and whining, and whining. Ewan tried to pull his hat over his eyes. It fell off onto the floor, He got off his chair to reach for it. It had rolled under the seat. Ewan reached for it, and stabbed his finger on a tack sticking out of the seat. “Mage.” Ewan made this sound so angry that the small girl two seats back decided to shock her friends with her horrible new curse word as soon as she got home.
Ewan sat back in his seat and stared out the window, sucking his bleeding finger. This day could end at any time, and that would be fine with him. He checked the clock at the front of the car and groaned. Only mid-afternoon? A whole day on the train, and a whole night- with a freakishly loud snoring man next to him- and now this day. Was there no mercy in the world? Clearly not. At least they were in city limits now. He decided to go get a drink. Ewan unfolded himself from the seat and made his way to the front of the car, where there was a machine that dispensed canned drinks. He braced himself against the door and the wall and fished some coins out of his pocket. The beer was bound to be warm, but it’d be better than nothing.
The machine rumbled internally and stuck. Ewan fell against it as the train went around the corner. The machine made an ominous clunking noise and vomited forth two beers. Score! He scooped them up and turned around with a grin.
The grin froze in place when presented with his new arch-enemy, the steward. The skinny bitch’s expression was faintly gloating. “You can’t drink those here.”
“Say What?” He glared.
He held out his hand. “You can’t drink those in a public space. There are kids here.”
Ewan stared at him. “Why are they for sale in a damn public space then?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, sorry.” He snapped his fingers. Ewan hadn’t seen someone so clearly not-sorry for quite a long time. He knew the type, though. The censored steward wanted him to beg- acknowledge his position. And then if he did, it was about fifty-fifty if the moron with pin stripes on his soul would give the drinks back. Ewan handed him the beers wordlessly and started back towards his seat.
Behind his back, there was a popping noise as the steward cracked one of the beers. Ewan’s shoulders went up, but he kept walking, If the gentleman wanted a fight so much, he’d be damned if he was gonna give him one.
The kid was still whining as he passed. What did he want this time, a hat? Yeah, a hat. Ewan paused in the aisle and glared at the kid till the squirt made eye contact. “How’s it feel to want?” He growled in his most don’t-even-not-today tone.
The boy hiccuped and hid behind his mom. Ewan could feel the steward approach him from behind, radiating disapproval. “Is this boy bothering you, Miss’ess?”
The woman in question, comfortably into middle age and clearly weary of traveling, smiled crookedly. “Why yes, but he seems to have calmed down now, thanks to this young man.” She directed a smile at Ewan, who touched his forehead in return and retreated to his seat, Behind him, he heard the woman continue talking. “Are you allowed to drink on the job?”
Heh. So not everyone on a train was out to get him. Porters, yes. Moms, maybe not. ThereWasTheSignForTheStationHellYes. Ewan was already on his feet and pulling his coat out of the overhead rack. He lined up by the door. The steward was yapping about safety rules- like he cared. Like anyone cared. Ewan was off the train as soon as it was within jumping range of the platform.