It's Clever, but is it Art?

 ARGO, TRANSIT DEPOT #4

As the day slowly creeps to a close in one of the many small transit stations of Argo, people slowly file away. The transit depot in question didn't see much use except for work transport, and at nights, people tended to leave it be.

Which is why Petra Sideris, rogue artist of Argo, has shown up here, after close. Packing her paints and her brush, the rogue artist in question smirks as she opens the door of the transit depot, ready to paint over the blank, unassuming walls of the depot with plenty of fancy vistas of her own mind.

She stops short as she notices the functional signs. Normally nothing but directional guideposts, today they looked... different. Though the same information is retained, it's presented through loops and whorls, twisted vines and small waves transforming the signs into something much different than they were before. For objects where function begat form, form had reclaimed function.

And she recognizes that brushwork, Her eyes fall on the figure standing on a stepladder, reaching one of the signs and currently touching up the end of a vine. 

"Iroha!" Petra shouts, jabbing her paintbrush at the artist on the stepladder. The woman in question jumps down and turns to face her.

"Afraid I don't know who you mean!"

"Don't fuck with me, Iroha! What's the meaning of taking my new spot of inspiration away from me?"

"Already said, it's not Iroha! I've decided to change my name. Become a true artist! "Iroha Niijue.." What kind of a name for an artist is that? Sure, "Petra Sideris", that has a ring to it. People will buy your paintings.

I mean I don't see why they'd want to, but they will."

"Well? Out with it, then? Who's my new rival?"

"From now on, I am to be known entirely and only as... Mauve Vermillion! For I, myself, should be the rainbow I wish to bring to the world with my beautiful art!"

"That's less of a mess than I expected."

"Well, I did consider Mauve Azure Emerald Goldenrod Tangerine Vermillion. But I lost track the third time I said it to myself."

"Anyhow! That's beside the point, Iro- Mauve! This is my artistic inspiration! I had wonderful ideas for how to make those entering this transit depot feel as if they stepped out to the wide world, but how am I suppose to execute on them if you've already touched it up with your mess?"

"In that case, I've saved our city's fair commuters from a tragic fate. They come here to simply move through with their lives, with no interest in trying to stay in a transient location. Your art would be wasted here! 

My art, on the other hand, is perfect. I have once again created form out of function! These signs remain their normal self, yet now they brighten the day of those who see them, regardless of what those fussbodies at the transit department say!"

"Oh, they shot you down too?"

"Yes! They were insistent on "the signs need to remain communicative" and "they should be easy to read at a glance". What a stifling attitude! This is why the artistic mind is falling out of consciousness in our society.

I challenge everyone who views any piece of my art to think that art must be its own thing! We can make anything into art! An ornate fence can become art with a little work! Yet they insist on maintaining function, and function alone!"

"...On that, I still agree with you. But I can't possibly work here now. Your art... it detracts completely from the compositions I had in mind."

"I couldn't agree more! Your art would completely ruin the work I have set up here."

"Very well, then. But next time... Next time, I'm going to ensure you don't even get a chance to paint!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

With that, Petra Sideris departs the transit depot, while Mauve Vermillion continues to work on transforming the signs present in the station.

Two artists... so alike, and yet so unwilling to agree.

Art for Art's Sake

 ARGO UNION STATION

Argo Union Station. The largest and most impressive train station outside of Argo, connecting nearly every train line that comes into Argo from the outside, and also connected to the transportation system that's actually within the cave. The need to build outside the caves in order to tie these together means the station is always hot in the summer, and Fredrick Stapleton felt the air conditioning could only do so much.

Which is why, as he approaches the next train to review scheduling for, the man actually stops short. He chews on his cigar for a bit, trying to ponder exactly what he's looking at. Then he shrugs.

"That artist again." Fredrick comments, as he gazes upon a train dressed not in the usual livery of Ulimaroa Central, but a detailed replication of a seaside. "Well... maybe we can use it for the train to the coast."

After all, their experiences already told him the artist in question wouldn't care about rights or royalties...

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In a small apartment in Argo, Kennedy Wilson heads downstairs. He'd gotten here early, aiming for him and Cirral to get on the ground floor for the inevitable stories the Kobbers would bring. Stepping out of the building, he opens the door, and as soon as he does, steps out and turns around.

To his surprise, the door has been painted. It now resembles an industrial set of gears and cogs, a mechanical menace that jumps out the second you look at it. 

Asking around, Kennedy learns from a couple commentators that this was normal. A well-known rogue artist who traveled through Argo, painting anything anywhere that she wished. All he can think, as he finishes noting down another conversation, is that it sounds like there's a story here.

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Outside a warehouse, Grace Samiel whistles as she patrols, night having fallen upon Argo. Though daylight only came from one direction, and deeper in the cave like this it wasn't very visible, the artificial lighting systems that dominated the ceilings and walls were tuned to match the light of the sky. Areas like this that would be brightly lit at noon were now dim and lonely. 

Though in Grace's case, that just meant her job was more important. The woman had been hired by one of the local companies to guard their warehouse, and with her usual security jobs not necessary for various reasons, she'd taken it up to give herself something to do. Grace leans against the wall and shuts her eyes for a second... before hearing some noise.

Looking down, Grace sees a woman. A familiar one, with her paint-splattered smock and hat. Currently painting, no less, scribing a sunset scene onto the wall of the warehouse. Grace immediately shouts over. "PETRA!"

The artist, one Petra Sideris, looks up from her art with an air of occupation. "Grace Samiel." And with that simple acknowledgement of her accuser, Petra returns to painting, as Grace smacks her shield into the wall. "I've already told you, the company doesn't want you painting their walls!"

"They are bland and boring. What I am doing is nothing less than a public service for them."

"Just because some people put up with you randomly painting doesn't mean that everyone wants you redecorating the area!"

"Their thoughts are temporary. Art is perpetual."

"You never listen. Okay, I'm coming over there."

Grace starts to walk over towards Petra, only for the artist to put away her brush and paints... and produce a much larger brush, this one clearly not designed for painting. With a swing of the brush, she sends a bunch of paint towards Grace. Bringing up her large shield, Grace is able to keep the paint from covering her, but the distraction is enough that the artist has already gotten a good head start by the time Grace recovers.

As she watches Petra run off, Grace sighs. "What a hassle..." The guard turns and looks at the sunset scene. "...It is impressive, though."

Elsewhere, the artist in question comes to a stop. She pants, exhausted, before straightening up... and looking at another blank wall. She nods, a new scene coming to mind.

"An artist's work is never done."

Ulimaroa Central

 ERENVALE, ULIMAROA

The capital city of Ulimaroa, Erenvale. A seaside city that had thrived for years on trade, bringing the raw materials from within the country's heart to the shores and through ships across the world. Though the boom had made Argo its biggest city, and the rise of air transit meant many people now flew directly to Argo, the capital was still the main way the country of Ulimaroa traded with the world. As a result, the trains leading into the rest of the country remained the most important link it had.

And it's two of the owners of those trains who are currently looking at the site of some severe damage. A sandstorm near the city had whipped up, burying several rails in far too much sand. As the sand continues to get cleared out, the head dispatcher of Ulimaroa Central Railways looks over the scene.

"Hmmmmm."

Fredrick Stapleton, nicknamed the Fatalistic Signalman by many for his dour demeanor, lets the cigarette in his mouth slowly burn down as he takes a few more notes on the progress of repairs.

"I'll be able to shift two of the scheduled cargo trains to Line B, and we can shunt another passenger train on the long stretch on the Grange Line. But I'll still have to cancel several trains. I appreciate your coming down here to manage this personally, but I don't believe we can avoid a major productivity loss."

"We'll see about that." declares the firm voice of the man standing next to him.

A long time ago, Cornelius Gold had been Ulimaroa Central's foremost builder, the man standing on the front lines of every single line they laid down. Now, with his days of personal building long behind him, he'd been promoted to head of the workforce division, managing the various people who work on building and rebuilding the lines.

"I recognize your estimates, but I think we'll overcome them. It won't be easy, but with some good work behind us, we'll pull through. Maybe we'll be bottlenecked for a while, but I think we can run some extra cargo trains along the Grange Line too if we stagger them right."

"I admire your optimism."

"Gentlemen. I take it that we have plenty of work ahead of us still?"

The familiar voice turns both Cornelius and Fredrick to face it, as Katharina Richter, the woman in charge of Ulimaroa Central, strides up to them. Behind her is none other than general manager Saito Yamada, the man looking a little abashed as he sees Fredrick after his previous attempt at adjusting dispatches. Fredrick just looks a little exhausted, the man clearly resigned to whatever happens.

"We do, Katharina." "Very well then. We shall leave them to it. Follow me, gentlemen."

Katharina begins to walk off, followed by the three other members of her top-level railroad team. Cornelius coughs a bit, then speaks up. "It's been a long time since we were all together in person, ma'am. About six months, by my count. What's the reason for the short notice?"

"I'll explain when we get to the office."

A small shed near the tracks turns out to be Katharina's temporary office, and she takes a seat, producing a newspaper. Slapping it down on the table, she gestures to four spots on it, making it very clear what the problem is.

The headline, by one Myriam Scuttlebutt, summarizes the official announcement of Grand Worldwide Railways making a large investment in the Argo area. 

"...And?" Fredrick asks. "The Baron has always shown an interest in Ulimaroa. He wouldn't have his lines on the other shore if not for that."

"Ulimaroa is one thing. I can tolerate him working on Ulimaroa. I can even put up with that one line in Argo, even if I'd like to see him get out of our territory. What I can't stand is the concept of him trying to take my cities from me. And look at this!" 

"Hmmm." Saito mutters as he leans over and adjusts his glasses. "It says here that he's planning to invest in building... wait. Is this correct? Surely she misheard it."

"Scuttlebutt has an exemplary track record. If I had any hope of counting on an inefficient reporter, I'd pick someone else. No, he's planning to do it. He's planning to build his own line between Argo and Erenvale. He knows what he's doing."

"Well. Seems like the problem's a problem after all." Cornelius shrugs. "What do you want us to do? We've got the substance to outcompete him."

"We do, but the problem is the Kobbers. The Baron had encounters with them before. I've already told Saito about this, but we need to win them over. Get their hearts and their minds. I'm expecting maximum efficiency from you two, and everyone working for you."

"Yes, ma'am." "Understood, Katharina."

"Excellent. If Baron von Eisenbahn wants to pick a fight, he'll get one. This is his gauntlet, and I'm picking it up."

TO BE CONTINUED 
SPRING 2025