Get Blown or Die Tryin'
This was a free commission that was proposed to me that I rather liked the idea of. Certainly something that I've never written about before needless to say. Short story commission for Derecho: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/derecho
Derecho stood in line at the train station, waiting patiently for the others to move so he could purchase his ticket. He looked down into his wallet he held in his white scaled drake paws, opening the main pocket and glumly looking inside.
Four crumpled up bills were stuffed inside: a fifty, a ten and two singles. He shook his head a bit, rubbing the top of his head between his dual horns. He looked up from his wallet out of the line and to some of the new automated ticket vending machines that had been installed only a few months ago, but required a membership pass and a credit card, the membership card fittingly enough, he did not have.
He pushed aside the front sash of his loincloth to expose the pocket of his blue jeans, stuffing his wallet back in. He then leaned down collecting his duffle bag as the line took a few steps forward again only to come to a halt once more.
He cleared his throat, adjusting a matching a long, flowing blue cape with a silver border on the bottom edge over the back of his gray button down dress shirt covering his shoulders and back, draping nearly to the floor.
His gaze wandered about the ticketing area of the train station, spying the clock on the wall as a bell sounded the six o'clock hour. Derecho's stomach growled at the final chime, he was starting to get a bit hungry for dinner.
He turned back to the line, sighing and trying to ignore the gurgling in his stomach, wishing wholly that the line would move along. He was eager to get away from things for awhile, take a vacation and just forget his worries for a week.
The procession of furs moved a few steps forward again. The white drake's attention once again aimlessly wandered about, listening to the raucous roar of hundreds of voices all blurring into one as all walks of life stood in line, or hurried about the station ushering small children, yakking into cell phones or businessmen counterparts commuting.
As his total time in the line pressed past an hour, he began to wonder if he should have flown instead, but shook his head, assuring himself that the train was the way to go; a simple, relaxing cruise on steel rails.
Plus, with the current hunger state of his stomach, he wouldn't survive on an airline's meager pile of wheat crackers and baby bottles of booze. But, his attention turned as finally, he was at the head of the line, and with some relief, watching as a teller was waving him over.
He hoisted up his bag and headed over quickly, his cape gently flowing behind him as he approached the window. He set his bag down once again next to his feet and looked up to see an older curly haired hamster peering back at him over a pair of thin reading glasses perched upon the end of her nose.
She looked him up and down and asked in a rather raspy, three-pack-a-day smoker's voice, "Where are ya headin' love?"
Derecho dug back into his pocket and pulled out his wallet once more. "I have a reservation for the City of Windover."
The hamster nodded, looking over at a clock she had on the wall of her stall. "You're just in time, it's due to leave in ten minutes. Can I have your name?"
He gave it to her, and she typed it into her computer, leaning in close and reading the screen a moment before turning back to him. "Cash, credit or check?"
"Cash."
She nodded, making a few more keystrokes. "Fourty eight seventy three. And I'll need to see your ID."
He pulled his license from his wallet, slipping it through the slot on the window, and pulling out the wadded up fifty, doing his best to flatten it out on the edge of the counter before slipping this through as well.
The older hamster made a few more keystrokes, ending at the sound of a dot matrix printer working somewhere under the desk. She then turned in her swivel chair and made his change, slipping this through the window along with his ID and then the printed ticket.
"Track 6 to your right, down the stairs and you better hurry... the train leaves at six-thirty sharp." She said pointing in the direction he had to go. The white scaled paws fought the change back into his wallet, stuffing both this and his freed ID card in his mouth, he nodded a thank you to the hamster leaning over and grabbing his duffle bag and heading off in a quick jog.
His black casual shoes thudded with a slight squeak across the marble floor as he hurried past many rows of waiting benches to a long, wide stair case while he stuffed his ID back into his wallet, hopping some as he stuffed this back into the pocket of his jeans. He quickly hurried down these, hoisting his duffle up a bit higher to avoid having it bounce off the side of his legs.
The long, wide blue cape flowed out as he made his way down the worn steps, gently fluttering over each step five stairs back as he descended. Once to the bottom, the hallway narrowed and branced to the left and right. He paused only for a moment looking up at the signage, then he hung a second right, and down another flight of stairs to the train platforms. He turned and headed under a sign reading "Track 6" and looked up over the train.
It was a sleek, ten car bullet train, six passenger, one dining, one lounge and two luggage cars all painted a light gray with two red stripes running the length of the fuselage of each train car, the engine with its name, "The City of Windover" painted in lieu of a stripe.
As he approached, a wolf, dressed in the crisp, pressed blue conductor's outfit, adjusted his firm hat atop his head, checking a pocket watch and making a call out for final boarding which came out sounding like, "Alllll bard!"
The white drake, panted a bit, and stepped up to the conductor, who examined his ticket for a second. With no more than a quick flick of his wrist he produced a hole puncher, and without so much as even batting an eye further at the ticket, snapped away with his hole punch, handing the light card stock ticket back to Derecho.
The conductor, hung off of the side of the train, scanning the platform for any other stragglers, and satisfied that the white drake was last, examined his pocket watch once more, tucking it back into his blue vest pocket, and swinging back into the train, closing the door and locking it in place.
Derecho looked through the window in the door to the seating cabin, where much to his surprise, was full. The wolf tapped him on the shoulder, "Sir, you might want to head back a few cars, there are a lot more seats, those are mostly commuters in there."
Derecho nodded, and turned around in the narrow hallway at the end of the car. The conductor opened the door to the car behind, and let the white Drake slip past him and inside. Derecho used his free paw that wasn't holding his duffle to draw his cape up close behind him so that it wouldn't get caught in the door as the conductor let it slide shut behind him.
He looked around the train car, seeing a few other furs scattered about, but far from even a third full. He pressed his way through the train, catching himself slightly as the train made a slight lurch forward and began inching its way out of the train station.
The white drake, passed through two more cars before making it to the dining car. He nodded, glad to see that they were already preparing for dinner. He passed through this, followed by the lounge and to another passenger car. This was far more spacious, with separate, although very small enclosed rooms. He looked in each as he passed along the car, but it was completely vacant. He stopped once he made it to the end of this car, and shrugged, heading up a few rooms and pushing open the sliding door and letting himself in.
He tossed his duffle into the overhead rack and rubbed his stomach. He looked to a wrist watch on wrapped about his wrist and nodded as his stomach made another complaint at its emptiness, and he left the room, heading back up to the dinner car to grab a bite.
Derecho found himself staring out the large window of the private room he had decided to sit in, watching the low three story storefronts and the tops of houses gently roll by the train as it made its way through the suburbs. It was nearly seven thirty in the evening, and the train had made a few stops for the commuters, but that was becoming progressively less. As he looked out the window, and watched as the shadows lengthened from the setting sun he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, leaning back in the chair.
Being a drake, he had never known flight, or what it must feel like for the birds and full-fledged dragons to spread their wings and take flight. The pure thought of the adrenaline rush must be intoxicating.
He looked down at things closer to the train, trees, bushes and telephone poles that were steadily zipping past. Maybe he could experience this as well in his own way. The train he was on was already moving along rather quickly, at least sixty miles an hour, he wondered if it was possible to sneak up on top of the train when no one was paying attention.
He slid over in his small portioned room and peeked out at the hallway. There wasn't a soul on his car still. Curiously, he got up and headed up to the front of it, peering through the window at the lounge and dining cars. There wasn't much going on in either of these, almost as if everyone was just in a trance and being in a completely relaxed state of mind.
Derecho headed to the back of the car, and slid open the door between his and the cargo car behind it. He headed back to the car behind and looked down at the side door. It was a simple latching door, certainly nothing difficult to open.
His heart was pounding in his chest, his long, white scaled tail twitching with excitement. He headed back to his room and stepped inside, sitting down once more and unfastening the rest of the buttons on his shirt, pulling it back from his shoulders and arms, exposing his strong drake form.
Strong, firm pectorals and a rock hard six pack pressed and bulged out his white scales, flexing and bulging as he removed his shirt. He folded this up somewhat, tossing it to the seat across from him. He then leaned over, and untied his shoes, pulling them from his feet, each in turn, letting out a small sigh of contentment from having had them on his feet for some time.
He rubbed his leathery footpads against the firm, hard carpeted floor a bit before sitting back up and reaching under the fore-sash of his loincloth and unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. He slipped these off from his thick, strong legs, bringing them up to his hands with a foot, folding them over and setting them on the seat with his shirt.
He tightened down his tied blue loincloth, adjusting himself some in the crotch pouch and taking extra care, retied the straps keeping his cape about his neck. His paws felt up the back of his neck and head and freed his long black hair from under his cape, whereupon he let it drop loosely and shook his head.
His heart was pounding with the idea of what he was about to do, perhaps from the thrill, perhaps for the fear of getting caught, perhaps even both together. He poked his head out of the door, and looked both ways up and down the car's length. He then slipped out and headed to the back of the car once more, letting himself through the door to the luggage car. Here, he turned and stepped down the two stairs to the door. He lifted up and leaned into the handle some and was able to unlatch the door, sliding it open.
All at once, wind gushed into the tight breezeway of the train, tossing Derecho's hair, cape and loincloth sashes about in the swirling gust. He leaned out of the train car, the wind catching his blue cape and blasting it out of the door, slapping the cloth against the side of the light gray fuselage.
His head turned upwards and looked up to the top of the smooth sided train, blinking a bit as his eyes watered up from the wind ripping by him. He held onto the side of the train car and ventured out a bit further, hooking his leg around the side between the two cars, outside of the rubbery accordion between them. Here, there was a tight, small gap for him to just barely squeeze into, the wind slipping by the aerodynamic train car bodies.
He pushed his hair back from over his face, flipping his cape back and climbed a small rung ladder upwards to the top of the train. As his head poked over the top, he squinted in the sudden blast of wind again, his black hair violently flapping behind him. A sly grin crossed his face at the notion of quite literally train-surfing, his heart excitedly pounding in his chest. He continued up the ladder, carefully swinging his legs up to the top of the train car.
Here, he had to lean into the steady sixty mile an hour gust, holding his paw up in front of his face with some difficulty to block the wind from his eyes. He then carefully progressed along the top of the somewhat rounded, smooth train roof, working his way up towards the middle of the car.
Here, he looked around at his lofted view, noting that he was able to see for quite some distance and the thrill of actually standing on top of a moving train further excited him, getting his blood well pumping.
He turned and looked behind him, the long blue cape rolling over itself quickly and flapping rather loudly behind him, tugging some at his neck as the drag from the wind pulled it. His loincloth's front flap was firmly pressed against his crotch, the lower half lapping against his otherwise naked inner thighs and knees, the rear sash entangling occasionally with his cape only to break apart once more and toss about freely for a few seconds before once again meeting up with the cape in a dance of cloth.
He smiled, chuckling to himself, and getting a wide footing, keeping himself leaning into the wind some, watching as the train turned a gentle corner out of the final legs of the suburbs, miles of open fields and straight track ahead of them. He looked over to his left, seeing the lengthening shadows from the train, and spying the rather large shadow of himself stretching out across the waving grasses.
He held out his arms, feeling the wind buffet them, swirling around and making them sway. He wasn't able to soak this wonderful feeling in for too long as the wind picked up speed, quickly becoming a raging torrent of noise in his ears, akin to that of a great and powerful waterfall.
He turned his head back into the wind, taking note that the wind was increasing in speed and intensity as it was quite clear that the high speed train was accelerating now over a hundred. He leaned harder into the wind, struggling to blink as his eyelids were pressed firmly against his eyes which were watering up and tearing.
These beads of wetness were pushed from his eyes, coating along the sides of his head, only to be ripped away by the wind. He leaned into the wind harder, his leathery footpads letting out a small squeak here and there as the wind pressed harder and harder into the white drake, his footing slipping in small doses.
He bent his knees some as the train worked its way up to its one hundred and fifty mile an hour top speed. He was leaned over so low that he could easily touch the top of the train had his arms not been stuck out in the air, being pulled back hard by the intense wind.
His cloak was pounding in loud booms behind him as the edge of it snapped multiple times, the edges beginning to fray from the intense wind, and the drag so intense, it tightened firmly around his neck and forced his head back so that it was facing directly into the wind.
He couldn't blink; he couldn't even breathe through his nostrils. He resorted to having to use his muzzle to get air, which dried out the inside of his maw instantly. But even through this, he was struggling to breathe as the force of the wind hitting him compressed his chest some. His long black hair flapped about madly, standing on end from the back of his head in appearance, twisting and slowly tangling from the roaring air around him.
The air had also become a raging torrent of stinging needles, making his eyes, arms, legs, and chest ache all over with the sensation of millions of needles stabbing him all over. His loincloth's front had basically become vacuum sealed to his crotch, leaving little to the imagination, the front sash now pulled tightly up between his legs, the end of which was also snapping from the extreme wind, even leaving small welts on his butt, tail and the backs of his legs.
His footpads were slipping more on the top of the smooth surfaced train, and in one powerful gust, swept out from under him completely. He landed hard on the top of the train with a dull thud, the wind pushing him along the top with a squeal. His hand paws slapped to the top of the train, and using his claws, leaving a matching set of gouges in the paint, was able to stop himself.
He lay on the top of the train here a moment, trying to catch his breath and collect his nerves, his head still pulled up and back as his blue cape violently waved in short, fast bursts, still snapping at the end, the once neatly hemmed silver edge, now nothing more than a frayed and tattered mess.
He grunted and pushed himself back up carefully, working to make sure that he had a solid grip with his feet again. The whole process was slow, as if he was weighed down with a backpack full of boulders, but soon he was again on his feet, and leaning back into the wind once more.
The horrible stinging laced all over his body again and his leg muscles bulged and flexed as they worked hard to steady him on the top of the bullet train. Even through the near inability to breathe, move and the impossibility of blinking and being covered in pain from the intense, blasting wind. Derecho's heart pounded in his chest with pure enthrallment.
His motions were slow, but he was able to twist himself slightly to the side, putting his left leg forward and dropping his stance, working his left arm out in front of him as well, taking on the appearance of a surfer riding a wave.
A wide smile crossed his face, even through his wildly lashing loincloth cracking against his legs, and his cape threatening to rip him right off of the top of the train as it boomed loudly, standing out straight behind him.
He was flying. He was train surfing. Whatever it was to him, the one thing that he knew for certain was that he loved the feeling of the intensely powerful wind beating against him, making his scant outfit pummel about.
Taking a bit more of a dare to himself, and pressing his footpaw claws firmly against the metal roof of the train, he stood up a little more straight, feeling more power of the wind as it plowed into him. It made him wheeze and nearly slip and fall again, but he loved it.
He leaned back down again, and using what he could of his blurred vision, saw in the now faltering light of the setting sun, the spots of light of a town that the train was screaming towards.
He nearly stumbled as he felt the steadily moving train start relent on the throttle, slowly letting himself stand upright again as they began slowing for the upcoming town. When the train dropped back down to sixty, the wind seemed like nothing more than a gentle summer breeze to Derecho.
He turned, and headed back to the end of the train car, his cape pressing firmly against his back and arms, curling around them and his legs as he made his way back.
He turned back around, making it billow out behind him once again with a pop sound, as he draped a leg over the end of the car to the ladder between his car and the luggage again. He climbed back down, and quickly swooped his way back inside of the luggage car door, sliding it shut, his clothing and hair dropping down, unmoving.
Derecho examined his cape, looking over the edge of it which had severely frayed, shortening his cloak by a few inches, the silver stripe that was once on the end, completely gone. He examined his loincloth as well, which was in very much the same shape. He chuckled, and tenderly felt over the welts covering his legs now a bit, and shrugged.
He re-latched the door, and quickly headed back into the car where his things were once he noted that the train slowing more as they entered the town. He peered around the corner, and saw no one, quickly slipping back into the small seating room where his things were still neatly folded and placed, looking out the window as the train slowed to a creep for a station.
The wolf conductor opened the forward door to the sectioned seating car, and walked down the small hallway, taking a quick look in each room, not even so much as losing his stepping rhythm as the train came to a halt at the station. He stopped up short and looked in to see the white drake, fully clothed and shoed once more, sitting and looking out the window at the town.
The wolf looked him up and down a moment a tad confused as to why he was riding in the car all alone, but shook his head and pressed on to the back of the car, opening the door to the platform, stepping out.
He watched as a few got on and off of the train, checking his watch. He noticed a few people pointing and talking about the train. He was used to this, but noticed that they were pointing rather high. He turned and looked and saw on the side of the roof, nearly out of view, a small dent and some gouges.
He quickly ran back to the train, and grabbed the ladder, climbing up and peering up at the roof of the train. There was most certainly a noticeable dent in the roof, with four sets of parallel gouges running several feet back from it.
He headed back down and inside of the train, entered the car he had just left and walked back up to the small room where the drake was. He looked in through the window and saw Derecho, leaning up against the wall of the train, contentedly asleep.
He scratched his head, but shook his head and headed out once more, confused as to what had happened.