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A thread to share creativity of all forms.

1. Idle chatter will be deleted.

2. Leave constructive feedback and personal ideas as suggestions for the creator of X art rather than facts they must be molded after. 

3. NSFW content will be deleted. Go to Deviantart if you wanna find horny Brazillians to please.

4. If you cannot stand not getting "omffg u so gud haf me baby" and you live in a bubble where you think your work is perfection - dont post it. No one will babysit your ego. Art is ever evolving and peoples opinion and likes differ, so take whatever comments you get, negative and positive, and turn it into something you can use instead of crying about it.

4.1 Dont be an ass just because you can or imma smack you. We are all artists of different levels and subjects, so do point out faults but highlight good points and help everyone grow as a whole.



Go ham folks




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"All aboard!"

The call echoes through the station, only a few lost souls of the night is standing around trying to find their way home from a long journey.
The gears starts turning, a whistle alarms the start of a mechanical wonder crafted by humanities ingenuity, several ton of turning gears can be heard creaking in the night as the motor pumps out every single ounce of its power.

The coal, steam and sweat - forming the energy needed for the paying man and woman to reach their destinations at their discretion. Trains. Long distance, mass transporters placed on the rich earth. Forever bound to travel through preplanned routes that someone else decided for them.

A predetermined life, born into the world with a singular purpose decided by humans who could be free birds that chose their way of life or caged dogs, bound by ancestry or family conditions to tread the way of engineer or lower - a fireman. Day after day, throwing coal to the unsatiable stomach of the steel beast they work on.

Many before me have wandered into these long halls of seats and tables, polstered and polished in the past and many more will in the future.
A journey from home and into the unknown has started in these seats for many and likewise have many sat here, dreaming back on the wonders which our homes have brought us as we await for the conductor to announce our arrivals.

I always loved to travel and mostly I do so without knowing where to. Knowing that someone many years ago laid the plans to lay down the rails through the very scenery I am watching unfold out through the window now, without much knowledge besides a map as to how it actually looks when you travel through them just speaks to me as a form of unknowing bliss. So many roads have been laid before us and we always try to step out of them to create our own, however there is only few like me who enjoys treading the same old paths and exploring what has once been a journey of a life time.

So many stories and experiences has come from these trains, so many memories floats throughout the cabins as small specks of light trying to find the owner of who they once belonged to. Forgotten and left behind but always there if you one day decide to return to the old road where you once stood.


"Ticket please."


"Thank you, sir." "Ticket please."


Tradition stands. The wheels of steel not only makes the gears of the train turn to move, but also the conductor. Always here to check your ticket. Always stealing small bits of your ticket to make sure you did not steal a trip which would have been done whether you were there or somewhere else.

"Ticket please."

A blue, neatly fit suit, the usual hat and one of the few people who you would see smile in the middle of the night. Patiently waiting for the tired people on the road to find the small printed paper which grants them entry to the beast in which they currently reside.
Folded, bend, crushed and molded into a ball. So many states of destruction and yet you can always be sure that tonights conductor will find what he needs in the ripples of the paper ticket.


"I hope you have a pleasant trip." he nods his head, adjusting his hat as his body returns to its original formal posture.
A master at maneuvering through the small corridors between the seat, unshakable by the thousand components that moves underneath his feet and yet an elderly lady manages to push him up against the back of one of the seats.

"Be careful madam." A light laughter suddenly makes the dimmed lights of the cabin shine brighter - truely a man experienced in his work. His hand runs over a leather handle, belonging what one would call antique if the condition was less preferable than the suitcase of this case was. Well kept and surely cared for although scratches and bruises of the many years of service that it has already been comitted to, shows along the leather casing.

"Thank you, lad. I erh, do you know my seat? I can't read it when they make it so small."
No bends, scratches. A ticket that would appear to have been printed all but a mere second ago - an example of perfect condition, compared to those who find most of their pre-"click" life within the pockets of a traveller.


The suitcase lands above, causing the metal bars which is now holding it to ring a melody through the entire cabin. Half-awake zombies of the living look around as if life was briefly breathed into their exhausted bodies once again only to fade away like a lit candle in the wind as they see nothing but an elder neatly fold her jacket over her legs before taking a seat.


"Thank you, Madam. Be careful if you have to walk around the cabins."
Noise briefly hunts the sleepless as he opens the door but quickly and perfectly makes his way to the second cabin, leaving nothing but the memory of a nameless man which so many meet but to never properly know.

"Can I help you?" A smile with lacking teeth, wrinkles that hide the woman who was once in her prime - charming the young men of her era. A time long lost to the fragments of memory which only her and few others may still remember today.

"I'm so sorry, it is just that this reminds me of the trips I used to take with my grandson. Always so eager to sit by the window and watch the trees, the farms and villages fly by. Oh I miss those days." Eyes that linger in the past, specks of memories that once again serves a purpose gently floats to the owner they once lost to the passage of time and yet their vibrant colours seem to dull as the new specks which were gained in their absence starts to merge together with them. A dark future that was formed after their creation slowly turns into reality for the happy memories that is now nothing but pieces of a person who once sat by the window of a moving train.

"Oh how I miss him."

Edited by Aetherweaver


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"It feels as if that day never occured when I sit here. But I am just an old woman rabbling." the elder laughed despite the sadness that clearly lurked behind the happy sparks of memory that flickered all around her. I personally love the past. The past of others. The past of objects. Stories that may never be told hides within the very essence of so many things around; who would stop the wise from sharing their wisdom? A fool with no respect of the past would.

"Please." I inquire. I smile, what kind of future waited someone who seem to have such fond memory of this place? How dark must it have been to return to a place that was once lit up by the colours of youth and family love?

"He was so small." a yearning look, one that would move a heart of stone. "Sometimes I wish time would have stopped in this train. Forever being able to sit and watch our whole world fly by like they were places in a dream. A world that was just in front of you but still so far out of reach. He loved to watch the scenery. To watch the farmers tend their fields in the summer, watch the oozing cars drive by whenever we got close to the cities. He used to ask so many things, he questioned it all." she paused as she looked down on her wrinkled hands. The hands of a worker, a woman who may have been the sole foundation of a young boys life only to forever remain a part of the future he never had, to have worked so hard just to see the sapling die before it had a chance to bloom.

"It sounds like the day was never dull with him around." It was true. Children always asked so many questions you would rarely think of as a grown up. I know how it was as the oldest of my siblings. Despite the chaos, the moments of brilliance that you would see made caring for them ever so much more worth it.

"He filled my world with colours. Never had I thought something so beautiful would turn so grey when he left. Sickness steals so many precious things. It wears out all the value and leaves you with nothing in the end. The small and weak, the old and fragile. I never thought someone so full of life would be taken from me so early. Even as I sit here and I think back, I can almost see him with his face against the window and look out so excitedly and yet his pale and sick face haunts me like nothing else have ever done."

A line of tears streams down, the sniffling almost hurtful to listen to. To think someone who gave another so much happiness would also be the cause of such pain. I feel a twist in my chest even though I can only imagine what the lady had gone through, would I be as strong as her if I lost such treasure in my life? To continue walking forward? To have the strength to return to such amazing memories and watch them be defiled by such a horrible future?

"We will reach the next station in two minutes! Please remember all your luggage and be careful when exiting the train!" The conductor calls out in the cabin. Catching the attention of the elder in front of me. "Thank you for listening. I feel my heart ease up a little." She stood up and offered her hand. I took it and squeezed gently. "I am certain that some day you and him will sit in a train together again." A genuine smile burst forth from the sadness, perhaps she found something in this memory filled cabin that would help her walk once again.

The suitcase made a small bump and I offered it to her, a silent goodbye was all we left for one another as she walked out of the door. I stood there, watching her on the platform out front, a whistle alarmed the life of a new memory and the end of one of the many conversations that has been held within the train cabin.

Edited by Aetherweaver


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