The train was moving, and I was leaving all my problems behind.
Okay. Not all my problems.
In fact, I was now in a moving vehicle with a strange man in a world that never got the meno about internal combustion, all while I was wearing my bathrobe and slippers, moving ever further from the point I had entered this world and perhaps ever further from ever returning home...
But we were moving away from the creepy guy who had the "I kick puppies for fun" vibes and apparently magic steam powers.
So...the train was moving and I was margainly better situated.
Hawthorne was back to his feet, behind me in an instant.
I was afraid he was going to throw me off the train, too, but he reached forward and around me, and rolled the door close, and locked it in place.
He was big. Tall. Dark haired. Keen, dark eyes. While Deputy Constable Hawthorn had the air of a refined man of high society, there was a rough air about him, like he had bashed some heads together in his day. The fancy suit seemed like a lie, useful camouflage hiding the presence of someone strong and only barely contained. I wish I had seen season five of whatever show this was, where they showed back flashes to his rookie days, where he struggled to find his place in the station, almost was drummed out, only to be taken under the wing of a reliable older cop who showed him not only the ropes of working as a deputy constable, but also what it takes to be a man and the meaning of life.
"You." He said, towering over me like a dark shadow.
I gulped.
"You are surprisingly useful. Good punch!" The first true smile I'd ever seen on the man dispelled the stern expression. I didn't know his face could move like it.
The other people in the open carriage of the train started clapping, someone even laughed. An older woman with grey in her dark hair, wearing kimono inspired clothes, mimicked my throat punch "I am upset, I was getting ready to punch him myself."
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A gentleman in a normal suit nodded. "Served the bugger right. Trying to take a young lady from a train? He deserves the loss of face." he had a crisp accent like Hawthorn.
I needed to understand the politics in this world. Clearly, there were two power groups who were at odds with each other. But the people seemed to get along with each other.
"I won't get in trouble?" I asked the deputy constable. I mean, I was being arrested for jay-walking. I just punched someone in the throat just now.
"The Sects are overstepping and they know it. The Sects lose much protection of the laws. If you live by strength, you will be ruled by strength in the end. I did not think he would use that here, in a train. If it had reacted against the rails, then this whole thing may have exploded. I also didn't expect you to punch him, right where he was gathering power. You are surprisingly useful." he said, clipped ascent in contrast to the fighting words at hand.
"Thanks. I can fake a seizure too."
"Truly?"
"Yep, foam at the mouth, eyes rolled back. Everything." I remained standing, but I did a little twitch in my, limbs going tight but shaking.
Hawthorn looked genuinely impressed. "Remarkable. Put a pin in that, we might use that later." Those dark intelligent eyes flashed. He was planning something...
Wow. I felt special. I am glad that my life isn't a tv show with back flashes, or else everyone would get to see my second grade student talent show where the teacher said my talent was stupid and offensive to people who have seizures. People don't get mad at a kid for doing math, even though a calculator is designed to do that. I was like seven. I thought it was cool. Rodney burped the alphabet and was praised.
Basically, what I am saying is Brenda sucks and it's all her fault.
Back to my real problems in another steampunk world, I followed Hawthorn to a seat.
"So...where is Yu Lin?" I asked.
Pain darkened his face. "I don't know. I will just have to trust that she has made it to the train. Or that she will send a message later. As long as we are away, she will not have to...how does she say it? Hold back."
I thought back to the fake train conductor.
"Can she do that stuff too? Like the guy I throat punched?"
He snorted.
Shoot, would I need to apologize or something?
"Like that individual? I should think not."
I felt like this was a repeat of "Bappy Hirthday" all over again.
"She is at least three ranks higher than that rumble."
"Oh."
"Sit down, it's time for the train to accelerate." he grimaced. "It is not entirely comfortable."
"Did I ever mention I get motion sickness?" I said, as I realized that I might be repeating another situation that happened in second grade.