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Post by 0 on Jul 11, 2017 21:44:59 GMT
The man offered no further explanation as the headphones were taken, focusing instead of getting even more comfortable on the bench. Arms crossed as he let his head fall against the wall, eyes casually drifting to the front door.
He would sit there, shifting position and posture every hour or so, as time began to wear away.
Customers were few and far between, many of them seeming to know just what they wanted when they came in. One grabbed a handful of packaged candies, another a bottle with a strange sphere in it, and many of them offered some form of recognition towards the man in denim; a knowing glance was the most of it, although a few would whisper something in his ear, shake his hand, pat him on the shoulder, or even seem to engage in some sort of trade with him.
The man's gaze and stature altered with every passing visitor, many of these changes subtly; once or twice he shifted his position in such a way as if to conceal or take eyes off the man with dreadlocks, even lifting himself from the bench now and again, although some of this was, in part, to stretch his muscles. Throughout the day he kept a close eye on the front door and the display window.
Eventually, the sun began to set, and the man behind the counter, who, up until then had been perfectly still, never taking so much as a lucnh break, finally began to move. There were sounds from behind the register as he shifted things around, out-of-sight. He still ran the register when the rare customer approached at this time, and it was here that a few, not just the pair of the man in denim and the man with dreadlocks, began to loiter around the store themselves. The bench was avoided, most either pretending to peruse the store's contents, resting against the walls, or toying with things in their hands.
When darkness began to engulf the city, only then did the man running the register finally move out from behind the counter, flipping the sign on the door from "open" to "closed". A couple gazes shifted to the man as he moved back behind the counter, and the man in denim would shake the man with dreadlocks into order, should he not be paying any attention himself.
"Ride's here," he told the man with dreadlocks, standing to stretch imself once more.
The lights in the store began to dim. The worker knocked on the wall behind the counter, and a line began to draw itself in the wall. There was a subtle aquatic glow, a quick flash, and then all eyes could behold a door where once there was none.
The worker opened the door and stood aside, making a gesture that the others followed, hurriedly drifting into the darkness that was held beyond the wooden rectangle.
The man in denim had already made his decision, and he would walk with the dark man only up to the register. "Keep the 'phones, if ya want," he told him, giving the man a final pat, this time a gentle touch on his shoulder instead of the usual hard slam against his spine. If the man with dreadlocks wanted to give them back, he'd take them, curling them back around his neck. "I can always find another. Jus' follow the conductor's instructions, and you'll be fine."
He pointed once more to the man who'd been working the register. Standing firm beside the counter, he would wait for the man with dreadlocks to leave, waving farewell with yet another wish for safe travels aimed the stranger's way; the last to go, he would be followed by the conductor, who'd shut the door behind him.
The man in denim would watch the door disappear, the lights going out around him, before striding out of the front door himself. The shopping street at night was dark, lit only by the lamps on the street and the fronts of the store. As soon as he left, the store behind him would begin to fade away; the building would remain, but all signs, postage, and all manner of displays and items on the inside of it would disappear.
Though he may not have shown it, it was a tough decision for him, but not all that bad; after all, he'd have plenty of opportunities to make the choice in the future. Until then, however, there was still yet more work for him to do here.
Taking a gulp of the fresh air (and lifting the headphones back to his ears, should he possess them once more), the man in denim began to move off down the sidewalk, casting only the briefest of glances back towards the vacant building.
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Jul 13, 2017 5:26:11 GMT
It was a long wait.
It felt like there would have been time to go shopping for supplies and come back during the wait.
But Malik had done most of his preparations earlier. He didn't need to go anywhere now.
As time passed, the sugary contents of the bottle were emptied, more because it was there than due to any thirst. Otherwise, Malik sat in silence with his eyes closed. He was awake and aware, but resting and thinking or listening to the tunes from the mysterious headphones.
Left alone to his thoughts, there were many things to wonder about. The male with dreadlocks hoped he wasn't making a mistake, but with few options left to him, he held fast to his resolve.
Sound heard through the headphones indicated changes in atmosphere, as more people began to linger, and the shop owner began to work. The fading light outside showed that it would soon be time.
In the denim wearing man's words, the ride was here. A door appeared, where none had been before.
This hadn't been what Malik expected, but watching the few other patrons about answered some of the questions which arose.
Bending down he picked up his backpack, holding the straps in one hand, and grasping the empty bottle in the other. He stuck the bottle in a pocket on the bag, figuring he would dispose of it later.
From there it was to follow the rest towards that eerie gaping door, which lead he did not know where.
A moment before the man who had helped him spoke, Malik got the sense from watching him, that the guy was not coming along. The dark skinned male was made slightly uneasy by this, but he wasn't going to turn back now. He reached up to remove the headphones so he could return them before being offered to keep them. Malik's hand stopped for a moment, then still removed them. In the end, he returned them anyway. "Thanks for everything man." Malik said, truly thankful for the guy's help despite the many irritants that came with a guy who seemed so fond of teasing others.
This was it. The demi-human felt both dread and hope as he too headed for the door. He was going somewhere foreign to him, somewhere where if the if the small magical displays he had seen today told, would not be like sanctuary in too many ways.
With no clue what he would encounter on this other side, Malik stepped through the magical door. He raised his hand in farewell from a meeting which might never happen again for all he knew, before turning and following those ahead for now until further instructions were given.
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Post by 0 on Jul 13, 2017 16:42:45 GMT
Door closing shut, the world was left in darkness for a moment, quiet chatter echoing from a pair at the front of the line.
There was a flicker, small lights embedded in floor and ceiling beginning to brighten up the area, though the glow remained relatively dim. The room that appeared before hazy eyes was long and narrow, the lengthy walls embedded with windows and cushioned seats, while the two narrow ends possessed doors. They had entered in through one of these doors, a click sounding as the door locked itself behind the conductor. Poles rose from ceiling to floor in front of some seats, and it was clear that this room was made to mimic a bus or a subway's railcar. Looking through some of the windows, one might see the outer shell of more cars like this one, connected to it by walled links that would allow folks to easily travel from one car to the next.
There was, however, nothing but darkness behind them, and, in fact, all around them, as though they were in some sort of tunnel; the only way to see the other cars was by the dim lights cast off from their own windows.
The conductor, a somewhat short man with close-shaven, if scruffy, black hair, dark skin, and tired eyes, walked his way to the front of this particular car, standing in front of the next door before any of the passengers left through it. Some passengers had already sat down, others were waiting by the door.
"Welcome to Eden's Underground Railroad," the man begin, his voice loud and clear as he began a well-practiced introduction; it may be noticed that he was wearing a hat that he hadn't been before. Some passengers held clear indications that they'd been through this before, not caring to listen as they pulled devices from their bags and plugged them into their ears, or brought out books to read.
Continuing, the conductor said, "I will be your conductor for the night. You may call me Mike.
"It will take us half the night to get where we're going, so feel free to get comfortable, take a nap, enjoy the sights. You are not the only passengers here; there are more cars ahead of us, and you are free to wander the cars. However, please do not linger in the areas between the cars; you'll notice they shake a lot more than our passenger cars here, and we do not want our passengers to be injured from a fall. Please remember to close all doors behind you.
"There is food and drink five cars ahead of the caboose here, alongside a dining car to either side of that. Should you be broke, such amenities will be on the house for now, but the EUR will expect repayment for their services. Sleepers are to the very front, ten cars ahead of us, and you'll find a restroom every few cars or so.
"Do not harass the other passengers. Do not bother any staff you may see roaming the halls, unless they are wearing--" he paused for a moment here, whipping out a violet square tag, which he pinned to his shirt "--a tag like this.
"Do not open the windows while we are in a tunnel. Ignore the shadows you see in the tunnels.
"If you become dangerous or troublesome, you may be put in containment, or you may be ejected from the subway where you stand.
"If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or any of the other conductors -- we all wear a hat such as this."--he gave a tug to his hat, which was striped black-and-white with a cloth badge on it that read "EUR".
"The head conductor will keep you updated on our progress to Eden, and the captain will report any problems in the line should they arise. Thank you for choosing the Eden Underground Railroad."
With a bow, the man stepped aside, and the passengers that had been waiting by the door began to take their leave. Anyone moving between cars would notice that each looked different from the next, as though a completely different designer had manufactured each one; one that appeared as a polished bus or subway car, another like the comfortable den of a house...all of them, however, exuded a comforting vibe, and none were grimy in the least, having been polished neatly for the ride ahead. He would stand patiently by the door for a few minutes, waiting for anyone to step up with questions, before he would eventually take his own leave.
After five minutes, the cars would shake as the train began to move, the locomotive gradually picking up speed. During this time, speakers would sound as they crackled into life, as the head conductor's voice, calm and smooth, spoke clearly over the intercom: "And that was our last stop in the capital for the week, folks. We'll be off to Eden Six shortly."
After ten minutes, the shaking would smooth out, as the train eased into a slick cruise. "We've passed the Capital City," the voice over the unseen speakers said. "Wave goodbye to ol' Sanctuary. Six hours remain until our arrival in Eden Six."
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Jul 13, 2017 18:23:40 GMT
Six hours huh?
Malik tried to calculate how far that could take him, but he had no idea how fast this train was going or even if it was really a train at all. If already leaving the vast city of sanctuary behind was any hint to judge, than he'd end up very far away.
What was he going to do with himself for all that time, especially since he'd returned the 'phones, and had not possessed much 'entertainment' to bring?
For about an hour, Malik explored the train, going from car to car. The first few times, he was baffled by how different they were from one another some didn't even look like they ought to be connected to a train.
Aside from exploring there was guest watching in that time. Many still looked very human, but every once in a while there were those who possessed traits which distinctly stood out from what he was used to. Sometimes it was hard not to stop and stare despite the fact that he'd seen the similar beings before. Most seemed used to this. Malik decided then to not speak to anyone unless they approached him first or if it was a question for staff in an effort to at least seem like he knew what he was doing.
When bored of this found a place to stop wandering closer to the front of the train, and took an empty seat. He shed his bag, and dug around in it, pulling out a pocket-sized book.
Might as well try and read since he didn't see many other ways to pass the time.
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Post by Dirge on Jul 27, 2017 4:12:26 GMT
heart, you were never hot
The open-mouthed roar of the tunnel beyond the walls was a disquieting, constant guttural singing that formed an uneasy antiphony with the subtle rattling of the fixtures in Falskur's car. The pile of the carpet mercifully spared him skidding on the floor, but even with the rests that came with stops, his legs were beginning to grow weary of the long hours of standing in the anxious quivering of the cars as they sprang forward like eager greyhounds, sprinting not after prey, but to safety (he could hope). His car was largely clear of human seating, but cluttered with breathing bodies of various shapes and sizes, sleeping in huddles of fabric on the floor, or heaped against the wall in tired, worried bundles. Most of them kept what seemed to him a partially-respectful, partially-wary distance from each other, and the smaller of them seemed especially eager not to stray near his heavy hooves, for which he was grateful. Though the ride was relatively smooth, his legs were struggling not to go numb from trying to be still, and he had to shuffle them every so often to remind them to stay awake.
Six more hours. His eyes wandered, not for the first time, to the front of the car, and the door there. If another car, even with seats, were less crowded, perhaps he could find the space to lay down without displacing anyone. Six hours.
With the greatest care, he picked his way slowly along the length of the zigzagged trail of people and creatures until he could ease himself cautiously across the space between cars, ducking under the doorways and feeling increasingly claustrophobic in the spaces clearly not intended for creatures of his height as he tried not to meet the stares of any of the eyes he passed in the cars. At last, he found one both nearly empty and whose few residents weren't... Off-puttingly unnerving to his evidently uncultured palate. Somehow, the more they resembled humans, the more he struggled to look at them for long, as if something in their nature rang inherently wrong to him when wearing those human faces. He took a moment to shake himself, hitching the worn blanket hanging from his elbows higher up his shoulders, though the room wasn't cold. He had nothing else, and even this frayed scrap of plaid was a gift from a fellow refugee, but the soft scratching of it on his skin gave him some comfort and semblance of a barrier against all of this alarming strangeness to his other senses.
Even with the lightest tread, his hooves made a heavy, dull thud with each step, and he kept his head forward, ears back, trying to be miraculously inconspicuous as he found a corner with moveable chairs, not fixed benches, to wedge himself in. Tucking his thick legs under him, he finally chanced a glance around the room from his new vantage point- and there, right across the way, was a human boy, looking ever so casual in his seat on this sprinting metal monster. Ever so normal- until Falskur's gaze fell on his face, and the brilliant, alarming, almost milky blue of his eyes under his sun-gold lashes set skeletal fingertips of surprise toying up the length of his spine. The centaur went still, but he found himself still staring, transfixed, at the shifting blue fire of those topaz eyes, for more long, throbbing heartbeats than his stalled brain could count- until at last the train jolted slightly, and the boy's tumbling dreadlocks spilled across his lowered face for a moment, and the spell was broken.
Falskur ripped his eyes away too quickly, thinking it would be unbearably obvious to leave now, so shortly after settling himself in and ogling his unwitting companion. Instead, he tilted his head to shoot a hooded glance at the book in the boy's hands, as if this had been his interest all along, and spoke in a humming cello voice strung a little tight between his tense lips, though he felt his face was admirably staid.
"...Is it a good read?"
nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Jul 27, 2017 17:55:51 GMT
Those intense blue eyes looked up from the minuscule book in their owner's hands as the mostly human looking young man assumed the rich voice which had come from another part of the car to be speaking to him. No one else happened to be reading at the moment here as far as he could see. In fact the car was still pretty empty at this point. It had to be addressing him. The former sanctuary resident practically jumped at what he saw when his gaze turned towards the speaker; a horse, a very large greyish horse, with the torso of a man was resting here, filling up a significant portion of one side of the train car. Such still appeared in books about ancient mythology occasionally. That meant he could find a word for what he saw. 'a centaur is not more unusual than anything you've seen already.' The demi-human reminded himself. He took slow breaths, forcing himself to relax before he risked accidentally brining out undesired supernatural traits. He might be allowed to, but it wasn't easy to abandon habits needed to survive in the city. Hopefully he had not been staring at the equine being as well.
At least he had a way out if the situation had grown as awkward as Malik thought it had in the few seconds he had needed to get over his surprise, and sanctuary-nurtured bias against the unfamiliar. He could answer the offered question. He dipped his head to the stranger, admitting. "Sorry you startled me a bit, I was lost in thought." He held up the book, holding it open to the centaur to show that its pages were handwritten in even semi-cursive letters. "Its copied passages from books that were important to me, so its not really a straight read, and not nearly as good as the actual books." He explained carefully. Most of the passages were religious in nature. He knew that these were of a sensitive nature to many who balked at the idea of an objective truth that meant some people believed wrongly. The writing was small so he wouldn't be surprised of the centaur could not read it from here. "Its a lot about faith in times of trouble and what not. I compiled it months ago, but its been pretty relevant of late, with the authorities giving me pressure." He pocketed the book, feeling as though it was not something he wished to show off or share further than the information he had already provided about it. "Why're you on board?" The question could so easily be taken for a judgmental one, but hopefully the tone told mostly of curiosity on the subject. He doubted a centaur would have been able to live in sanctuary full time, so expected a story unlike his own of he was given any. Dirge
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Post by Dirge on Jul 29, 2017 20:39:57 GMT
heart, you were never hot
There was a brightness about him that unsettled Falskur, though not quite how he'd expected- it woke restless in him a strange, nervous almost-jealousy. A flicker of pointless envy at the bronze glimmer of the texture of his shifting flesh; a small twinge at the benign flame flashing in his eyes when they moved; some wistful, unknown feeling at the pale gold weave of his hair, shimmering with a tantalizing roughness like the refractions of gemstones. He averted his eyes quickly back to the little leatherbound volume in his young, large, peaceful hands, disquieted, as the boy raised his gaze to him- and that stare felt like a physical touch, pressing with quick, exploring hands the muscles of his haunch; the bare, bruised darkness of his fingers; the long trail of his mane, whose fine hairs prickled up at the attention; and finally, most intimately, it seemed to linger where the smooth, hairless crest of his human hipbones grew thick with a dense, fine coat of silver hair at the vulnerable V of his equine breast. Perhaps this long, silent exchange of not-touch was all his imagination, but he felt his flesh twitch with the anticipation of nonexistent fingertips all the same, and shifted his weight upon his curled legs, turning his silver head away briefly to summon his courage back.
To his surprise (that short, short pause had seemed to drag on so long in his head, until he had been sure the human-like creature wouldn't answer), the young man spoke readily, and without the dismissiveness or reservation he would have expected of him. "Sorry, you startled me a bit, I was lost in thought." Falskur's head shot back up to him to find he was now holding out the tiny volume so he could see, and he had to struggle not to lean closer than might be comfortable for the other, though his ears strained forward as if to hear the words off the page. The tiny, cramped script was entirely illegible to him, to his disappointment (but not surprise- he had never had the teachings or the books to learn to read well, and he doubted he could've read this even if it had been printed neatly and in large letters). "It's copied passages from books that were important to me, so it's not really a straight read, and not nearly as good as the actual books." Falskur glanced up at him from beneath the fringe of his lashes, wondering why he was being so open with this seemingly personal information, but grateful of it nonetheless. He hesitated, lips parted, wanting to ask more but shy to do so- but the man saved him the trouble.
Faith. While not precisely religious, faith was a concept Falskur knew very well, as he suspected everyone on this train did. He had an intimate and violent relationship with faith- faith in people, in concepts, in the reality of the very world around him, and in himself. So he nodded at this, feeling a sudden, strange sort of camaraderie with this bright-eyed boy, and at the same time wondering if this book truly helped him hold onto that elusive belief as he tucked it securely into a pocket like a talisman. "Why're you on board?" He tore his eyes from the pocket the little book had been stowed in and found himself meeting his companion's unnerving stare, and restrained himself from immediately looking away.
"Your 'Sanctuary' is not a forgiving place for people like me. The humans-" here his gaze flickered quickly between the fragmented blue shards in the boy's eyes, hunting for unease, distaste, hurt, anything that might reveal whether he counted himself among them, or what, indeed, he was if otherwise- "there are flighty things. I suspect to stay would have been miserable at best, and suicide at worst." This, of course, was all obvious. He doubted this was what the man had truly been asking, and after a pause where he weighed the unknown against the gentleness of his patient new 'friend', he continued more quietly.
"...I'm uncertain how I came to be in Sanctuary. My memories are all fragments of a place full of the smell of rich earth and ozone and redwood, but I woke surrounded by dull grey buildings and the stink of exhaust. I was fortunate not to be caught by those 'authorities'. Disoriented as I was, I wouldn't have been difficult to subdue. Instead, I was found taking shelter from a storm in an abandoned warehouse by a woman who led me through a maze of alleys to a tiny antiques shop, in the back of which was a door and a dark stairway leading down to a platform. The rest, I'm sure you can guess. I don't know who she was- she appeared human in every way, and perhaps she was, but I find it strange that she just happened to stumble upon me so quickly after I woke, and to know exactly what to do with me. Maybe it was simply luck. Whatever the case, I'm here now, and headed as far from that so-called sanctuary as I can get. Perhaps I'll even find where I came from at the end of this track."
He paused again, considering, before softly adding, "...I believe my name is Falskur. It's as good a name as any, in any case, if you... Would like to call me something."
nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Jul 30, 2017 7:56:26 GMT
He saw the centaur look away. Humans, real one-hundred percent humans did the same thing sometimes too, perhaps distinctly sensing something different about him that he couldn't see. He shot a glance at his hands as he stowed his book away. They looked normal to him, not glowing or bronzed, yet who knew what the other was aware of. If he could, Malik would have suppressed his energy further, made sure that it was pushed so far deep down that it wouldn't show even in his eyes, which always manifested first. Yet this pressure was like a fully filled balloon. He could not push it very far without risking the balloon breaking at this time, and that would be bad. It might even get him kicked off the train. He took it very seriously when they had warned against destructive conduct, and could not bare to risk even accidental harm. He'd just try and downplay whatever he could, and hope that he could somehow allay any further signs from the other which proved themselves as reminders of how different he was.
The young man shifted slightly as the centaur spoke of the humans of Sanctuary so, yet the way the word was spoken prevented anger or unease from fully flaring up. It did not sound like the equine being disliked all humans from the careful choice of words. It was all true of course. For those who could not pass for human, it truly was a nasty place to try and reside, and even those like him who could, the stakes had proven unforgiving. A shadow of sorrow passed over the youth's face, as he looked away in shame filled agreement. Maybe not all were like that. Maybe some would not look away in fear, or call the authorities at the slightest hint of supernatural activity, but plenty were like that, born and raised to both not believe and to respond so that before you knew it, the authorities were there to take you away.
"I'm glad someone found you before you ran into too much trouble." Malik answered after listening to the centaur's story as to how he'd ended up on the train. Guess he had been wrong assuming this ride was one the muscular being had been on more than once. He'd been assuming everyone knew more about what was going on here than he did, but clearly that was not the case. "These last several months have been hell on earth since I found out I was different. There'd have been no rest for you either." He'd met a few, who like Falskur, were not human to such extents where they couldn't blend in at all. No clue where they were now. Hopefully some had managed to evade the authorities, but it wasn't possible to know for sure what had happened to any of them. "We'll be safer wherever we're going." He didn't know much about the destination other than this. It was his first time on this train too after all.
Malik let it fall quiet for a little while as he mentally debated whether there was anything he ought to add. A lot could probably be implied from the few words he had chosen. Meanwhile, the Centaur had provided him with a name, Falskur. It sounded a little odd in his ears, but he guessed he had not expected a human style of name anyhow. "My name's Malik." The Nephilm answered knowing that it was better to exchange names if given one. "nice to meet you, despite the circumstances." Dirge
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Post by 0 on Jul 30, 2017 15:05:43 GMT
The darkness gave way to light.
It wasn't much, not at first, as the train passed from pitch-black darkness into what was now clearly a man-made tunnel, pale blue lights flickering into a blur as the train passed them by.
Then, all at once, the tunnel opened up.
It was darker than those brief moments, but not nearly as dark as it had been previously. Moonlight and starlight alike shone through the windows, and the locomotive offered a happy toot to the night air.
Once more, unseen speakers hissed as the head conductor's slick voice lifted into the cars. He told the passengers a little of the tunnel they had just left, how it was one of their oldest and longest, that it wound all over the capital city --and quite a ways beyond it, as well. After that, he said how many miles out from the capital they were, and how much time was remaining; he also mentioned that it was safe to open the windows now, but to please not stick anything out while the train was moving at such high speeds, as you might find yourself losing said thing.
Then he began to talk about the countryside around them and the road ahead. At the moment, hilly grasslands stretched out all around them, but in a little while they'd be entering mountainous forests. Nothing but straight track and sleeping pastures until that time.
The speakers would turn off then, but when the mountains began to come into view, the voice would return again. He would mention that very shortly they'd be crossing a long, curling bridge that reached over a wide canyon, and in a few minutes he would announce to the passengers that if they looked out the windows of one side, they'd be able to see the rest of the train, including the locomotive, a sleek machine that had been painted shades of purple, or perhaps it only seemed that way from the glow of the violet bulbs embedded in its sides. It would be too dark to see the river below, but on the curve the train had slowed considerably down, and the currents could be heard through the metal walls.
After the bridge, the train would straighten out, and its speed would pick up once more, spilling fast through the forests in a valley between the mountains. Four hours left, the head conductor would announce.
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