Author’s Note: Hey! This piece of fic was written for the Blaseball Zine Jam 2022, and was for the collab zine Foreward [To Finish Later]. Please consider checking out the zine and the whole collection!
This piece was inspired by a personal experience! I have always lived close to trains, and the Amtrak Southwest Chief route from Los Angeles to Chicago has always deeply fascinated me. I think the use of slower travel across the U.S. as symbolism for both Baby severing ties from xer life in San Francisco, and as a metaphor pulling them towards the call and the life that being a firefighter demands is so interesting to me.
This piece was originally gonna be a solo zine, however my friends talked some sense into me! I hope to return to this eventually.
‘Train Tickets?’
That’s one voice xe will miss.
Sigmund’s voice in hir ear is soft, all things considered. They knew xe was going to do this for some time. The ache in hir bones, the burn of the sun, staring at the band of lovers that have come to center around hir siblings, the overwhelming rise of the LARP, the fight xe had with–
Knight.
It boils down to Knight.
Their fighting has only gotten worse with the talk of the game they fell in love with on a bout of some quest. Neither of them dared to comment on their relation to time, and how they were brought here; but where Baby wanted to settle, Knight created ripples and waves in their wake, between falling within the mess Theo began, or upsetting time to kill a god, or the cult of personality they formed around their love and their honor.
It felt suffocating.
The more xe stayed, the more hir beliefs took to Knight’s like oil to water. Xe couldn’t be like them. Xe couldn’t be in their shadow anymore.
Xe couldn’t keep living with clipped wings.
It’s why she’s here. It’s why xe is trying to get through Sigmund’s halls as quiet as xe can.
From Parker, xe heard that the Amtrak was just a few hours away in L.A., and if xe really wanted, xe could ride it to the end of the line.
‘You know I hate driving.’
Xe can feel Sigmund’s sigh of resign. In all reality, she knew that Sigmund would support xim. They talked about hir room, about how it would stay, if xe needed it.
She was hoping ey wouldn’t need it.
The train ticket purchase wasn’t difficult.
The line read LAX to CHI.
Chicago Union Station.
Something tugs at hir chest.
Of course, Sigmund told them.
Their conversation wasn’t long.
They straightened xer coat before she left.
Even in California, the early morning November air stings against the tear stains.
At least if they know, it will maybe make the split easier.
Somewhere, the threads that hold them together are stretched thin.
They do not break.
She’s glad ey called in this favor.
Don’s sitting in his black low rider, the tail pipe sputtering gray among the darkness. Don was usually up this hour, up to something, and had a double excuse as his ‘legal advisor’ was at a conference in L.A.
By the time hir bags are in the trunk, Don is tapping out the last of his cigarette. He tosses the spent butt in the dashboard ashtray, and he turns to xim.
“You ready to go?”
Xe nods, “Let’s go.
It’s around 2:55 when xem and Don finally stop talking, and the car is quiet.
The drive to LA isn’t a bad one, the late night air flowing through the open windows against their skin calms the flush on xer face.
She knows he won’t miss the empty sky, or the constant artificial lights. Xe’s never seen…most of the country before, frankly. Xe has read the stops and the breaks. Hopefully wherever she stops will be fresher than this.
Only after xe swallows the anxiety in their throat, does Ruthless realize how thirsty they are.
“Hey, Don?” their voice cracks, but Don hums in acknowledgement.
“Do you mind if we stop somewhere quick, I need to get something to drink.”
Don nods, “Sure thing kid, I could use something myself.”
The nearest exit is about a mile drive, and sooner than Ruthless can really process it, Don is parking in front of a 7/11.
Wandering the isles gives hir a headache. Between the florescent and the bright packaging of everything in sight, he goes for the largest bottle of water and the least disgusting energy drink she can find.
Don is still meandering around, which gives her more time to look.
A lot of the conveniences are things xe already packed, or snacks that would make hir sick, but one section does catch hir eye.
Usually, she would ignore the section of what Helga explained was ‘school supplies and stationary,’ but a particular object stood out.
It was plain and brown, no bigger than the palm of xer hand. Embossed in leather, the book read ‘Travel Diary.’
Xe remembers, a long time before San Francisco, Knight would write about their travels, sit their with parchment bound by leather, reading off stories and quests when xe was young. Xe would sometimes sit, when Knight was gone, reading off old books and notes that they took, tracing the letters with their fingers, wondering what traveling like his sibling would be like.
A voice breaks them from the thought.
“You ready to go bud?” Don’s head peeks from the opposite isle, and Ruthless nods.
“Yeah one sec.”
Without a second thought, Ruthless grabs the diary, along with a pack of pens, before joining Don at the register.