//------------------------------// // 7: Adjustments // Story: Lost Gear // by TheFoxern //------------------------------// Copper lurched awake, nearly striking the pony standing over him, catching himself mid swing. He stared at the shifting snowflakes a brief moment before lowering his hoof. However, she did not seem to be the least bit concerned with his reaction. “You are wired to fight at all times...even in sleep...” she said softly. “It's how I've stayed alive,” he mumbled, feeling a bit sheepish. She had loomed over him as he was sleeping; his instincts had kicked in. She was looking at him, examining him in a way that actually made him feel uncomfortable. “So many wounds...old and new alike.” She gently brushed the metal covering his leg. “There is not an inch of your body that has not been bruised...not a bone that has not been broken...so much blood spilled...” He remained silent, simply listening to the sound of her voice as he watched ponies pack up their camp. “You have the aura of something that doesn't belong...something lost.” She looked him up and down. “And some of these wounds you have...I cannot even imagine what sort of thing made them.” She lifted his head, turning it so that he faced her. “What is it that holds you together?” “Stubbornness, mostly,” he said softly, looking at her and relishing such a familiar sight. She actually smiled a bit. “And the way you gaze at me...nopony has ever looked at me the way you do.” He pulled away from her. “Don't put too much thought into it.” “And why not?” She moved to be in front of him as he tried to turn away. “I don't understand it. It's not love, I have seen that look before. It is one that...I don't want to end. It fills me with a feeling that I have never had before.” Copper let out a heavy sigh, looking at the ground as he tried to order his thoughts. “It is...” he paused as he sought the correct words. He thought about lying, weaving some sort of story of an explanation. “Adoration,” he said as he studied her expression. “As a child has...” He sighed softly. “I could tell you things that I fear you would not understand.” He could feel his heart beating harder the longer he looked at her. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his, her horn disappearing into his mane. “When I look at you...I feel so...strange.” Her eyes closed. “As if I know you, as if you fill a void that I did not realize existed... Is that something that I would not understand?” “I am certain that is part of it...” “At first, I thought it was love...or perhaps it is. A sort that I don't understand...” Her eyes opened, staring into his eyes. “I am not one to ask about love. I am inexperienced in those things.” “Yet you do have ponies that you love and care for.” She pulled away from him, standing at a more comfortable distance. He couldn't help but notice how much taller she was than him... “I do. Ponies I hope to get back to. But as time goes by...I am slowly beginning to accept that that wont happen.” He rubbed his face. “Well, I am sure that with your stubbornness, you can achieve anything.” He smiled and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Thank you, mother.” There was silence until he realized what he had just said, opening his eyes to look at her. She was hiding a rather large smile behind her hoof. “Oh my, well that would explain quite a bit.” Copper felt his face turn red. “Sorry...I...it just slipped out,” he said as he turned away. “There's quite a lot you aren't telling me. The way you speak to me...with underlying respect, but with comfort. We have some sort of history, do we not?” He sighed, looking up at the sky. “We will.” “Ah, now things make much more sense...you are from quite far away indeed...” “Probably farther than you are thinking.” She arched a brow at him. “I don't know where, or when, this is...but it is far from my era.” “But I still exist?” He hesitated, and he really wished that he hadn't when he saw her expression. “You do...but time wears you down.” He looked at her. “And yet...you look exactly the same... Still as captivating as the first time I saw you.” She smiled slightly. “I am unsure what to do with the knowledge I will continue to live so long... Other unicorns live normal lives it seems.” “It is...a curse, or blessing, depending on how you look at it.” He looked at her as she stared at the group of working ponies. “Part of me is sorry that I'm responsible for giving you this knowledge, but it makes things much less awkward.” “Awkward?” she mused. “Yes, it does clear up a lot of things and explain this odd feeling...but it raises more questions.” “I don't have the answers,” he said quickly as he looked at the ponies around, their interaction had apparently gone unnoticed. “You have some.” She sighed softly. “I know it is not wise to ask questions of my future. That is something fables have told of for a long time. But what I want to know...what I most want is to know you.” He looked at her and she smiled softly at him. “Me?” “Yes, you. If you are my child-” “Adopted,” he felt the need to specify. She continued to smile. “Still...my child.” That made Copper feel better than he could have ever imagined it would. It surprised him how much such simple words could simply brush away so much of the pain he felt; a swelling of warmth inside him that eased all his pain and worries. “And I just wish to know, what you plan to do now.” Copper looked at her a moment and then stared up at the sky. “I am not sure... The easiest point would be to find the Doctor and try to get him to take me home. But even that seems impossible...” “Why is that?” She stood up, and Copper suddenly realized that the group was beginning to move. “I do not know where he is. Nor how to go about finding him, short of causing some universe ending catastrophe...” He looked at his hooves touching the grass. “And he probably would not help me after what just happened between us.” She nodded slowly. “That does sound quite a difficult task... Do you have any other ideas?” He paused to think for a moment and then shook his head. “Not yet.” She gave him a rather large smile. “I'm sure you'll think of something. After all, if you got here, you can go anywhere. In the meantime, you are more than welcome to stay with me, so that I may know you better.” Ahead there was some shouting that drew her attention. “You'll have to excuse me...there are quite a number of things I must take care of.” “Of course,” he said softly, giving her a slight bow before she trotted off. There were quite a lot of eyes on him as he walked, though the few attempts he made to help, to either pull or carry something, were brushed off as they seemingly wanted nothing to do with him. Or more so they would prefer that he rest and save his strength, despite him saying that he was perfectly fine. Despite saying that, he was actually having trouble walking, his plated arm felt...wrong, but he couldn't put a hoof on what exactly was wrong with it. When he finally settled in to the fact that all they expected of him at this point was to walk and keep up, he let his mind wander. There had to be options. Some angle to work. Some sort of avenue that he had not thought of yet... “So.” He looked up, seeing the pony that he had spoken to last night. “Good morning, Poplar.” “Mhm.” She was giving him quite a scrutinizing look, like she was trying to figure out the best way to scold him. Though her face looked far too young to be making such an expression. “What?” he said with a bit of a chuckle, unable help himself. “Getting good friends with our Lady, hm?” His brow furrowed a bit. “Yes?” he said slowly. “Yanno, a lot of colts try and do that when they first see her, but she's really warming up to you.” Copper had the feeling he was being accused of something. “Well...we have somewhat of a history.” Even if it's only one sided at the moment. “Oh reeeaaally?” she said, leaning in and looking Copper up and down, a frown on her face the entire time. He stared at her a moment before he decided to be blunt to end this odd interrogation she was giving. “She's my mother.” Poplar stopped, though Copper continued to walk, keeping pace with the rest of the group. It was several minutes before she returned and practically tackled him. “What?!” she screamed, which caused every pony around to turn to see what the commotion was about. “What?” “She's your mother?” she whispered harshly, as if it was some sort of conspiracy. “Yes.” Again Poplar stopped walking, and again it was several minutes before she was beside him again. “But...how?” Copper frowned at her. “Surely someone has explained to you how that sort of thing works.” Her face turned bright red. “Not that! I know that part!” She gave him a push and looked quite surprised when he didn't even budge. “I'm confused as to what you're asking,” he said with a bit of a smirk. Poplar was a friendly pony and it was nice to have a friend. “I am asking, how is she your mother?” she said as she gave him another shove, a bit harder, but still got no movement out of the action. “What the buck, you are like trying to push over a tree.” “Thank you, now please stop.” She was now actively trying to push him over. “Seriously, how are you- no, wait. Answer my question.” Apparently she was easily distracted. “I don't understand what you're confused about,” Copper said, mostly to frustrate her, as he knew quite well what she was asking. “How is somepony like that your mother?” Despite the words she used, Copper knew what she meant by her tone. Though she realized immediately how it must sound. “I-I mean, nopony has ever talked about her having a foal, or even really having a colt friend...” “Well, she is my adoptive mother.” “So, she is not your mother.” Poplar said slowly, as if putting together a huge puzzle. “She is. But she has not been for all of my life. It happened a long time ago.” Well at least it was a long time ago for Copper, so he wasn't exactly lying. “And you just...happened to run into her again?” she said quite skeptical. He sighed rather heavily, shaking his head. “Look, just ask her yourself if you don't believe me.” He had not even finished speaking before she had ran off towards her. Somewhere during the 'ask her' part of his sentence. There was a few minutes as she waited for the opportunity to talk to his mother, as she had quite a number of ponies trying to talk to her at once. When it was finally Poplar's turn, he saw his mother look back at him, smile, and nod as she responded. Poplar shouted, “What?!” again, and several ponies who were within earshot of the conversation looked back at Copper. It didn't take long after that for Poplar to come running back at him. “Well?” he said as she approached. “You...I can't believe it. When did it happen? When did she adopt you? Where were you? Why did she adopt you?” There was a shower of questions at him. “I don't remember,” he said simply. “It was a very long time ago.” “Pfft. It couldn't have been that long ago, I mean, you look younger than me.” Suddenly realization hit him all at once. The way everypony looked bigger than him. Why the metal arm felt wrong. It was too big for him. He looked younger than her? She was still a fairly young filly. Was that why they were calling him a foal? Was he a foal? “Is...there are mirror anywhere?” She stared at him a few seconds. “I think...Grassly has a mirror?” She looked over at a rather large green pony pulling a cart. The two of them headed over. “Hey, Grassly? Can we see your mirror?” The pony glared at them, but his expression quickly softened after he saw who was asking the question. “Whatcha need a mirror for?” “It's...been years since I saw myself,” Copper said in as sheepish a voice as he could manage. Grassly gave a soft grunt. “Ya, alright. Just don't mess with anything else.” They both nodded and hopped up into the cart. It was easy to find, having been on top to keep it from getting damaged, and Copper slowly pulled off cover. He...was a foal again. No more than a few years older than when he had been damaged. The scars from the train wreck were gone, and only the scar across his nose remained. But apparently the taint of Night still had a hold on him, with slitted pupils and sharp teeth. “Mmm...” He shifted a bit, uncomfortable at his own appearance. “You okay?” Poplar said softly. He didn't respond, looking down at the metal arm and shoving on it as hard as he could, pushing and pulling until it popped off. The three scars were still there, but the black cracks up his arm were gone. “Those...look painful. I thought that metal thing was your leg.” “No. It's to help me walk. And protect myself.” He realized that technically he no longer needed it to help him walk now that the damage had apparently been reversed. Now he would need to adjust it. That would be annoying. But why had he become so young? Was it from that weird storm that the Tardis went through when it traveled? It had honestly been the first time he had ever seen it and he had no idea what it was or how it worked. Maybe that was it...or maybe this was further influence from Night? He closed his eyes and focused...but she was gone. He had not felt her leave in his dazed state...had she left during the storm, or after? “Where'd you get it?” She had picked it up. “I made it.” She made a scoffing noise at him as she picked it up. “Be careful not to trigger the blade. It's harder to retract than extend.” “You made this?” she said, her voice was thick with skepticism. “Yes,” he said simply, staring at her. “And if I had the proper tools I could make adjustments.” “Oh this I gotta see.” She moved up to the front. “Grassly?” “Hm?” The pony looked back. “Would it be alright if we used some of your tools? Copper's leg needs maintenance.” “Oh? You need any help?” “Nah he's got it. He says he made it himself, so he should be all good,” she said with a large smile. Grassly gave a hearty chuckle. “Alright. Well, if you need any help, lemme know.” She came back. “Grassly used to work in a forge, so he's got lotsa tools back here.” Copper looked around a moment before carefully covering and securing the mirror out of his way and went about gathering tools. Some of which he had no idea what they were, or were crude versions of things that he knew. Once he gathered them all up, he set to work. First he disassembled it, laying all the parts out onto a tarp so as not to lose anything. He knew the construction by heart, even if he had come up with it in a fever induced epiphany. It had a lot of small parts, as well as large, and he kept them separate so he didn't lose anything in the back of the moving cart. Second was planning. It didn't need so much internal working now, since it didn't need to function as a brace and leg strengthening tool. It would still cover his entire leg, but he would reinforce the outer portion to give it a stronger shell structure for better protection of himself and it. He would add more weight to the bottom hoof to make striking a more viable and damaging option. The blade would still function the same way, so he could leave the mechanics of that alone. Of all the things he needed to work out, making it adjustable would be the most difficult and time consuming. It didn't help that as he sat and stared at the parts, Poplar kept asking him questions and asking if he needed help, to which he politely refused every time. He spent all the time he was thinking of a design on cleaning every little part and making adjustments to certain parts here and there. There was still some of the slimy red blood like fluid on some of the deeper workings. When he was finally satisfied he began assembly. He felt a sort of odd satisfaction to watch Poplar go from this unbelieving smug expression to one of disbelief and fascination the longer he worked. It took quite a while and he had quite a few leftover parts when he was done. He decided to leave the extra parts with Grassly as thanks for letting him use his tools. It would be easy to adjust as he grew with simple tools, and if he suddenly became his normal age and size, it would simply pop apart in certain areas to prevent damage to the device or himself. “Wow...well...uhm...I guess you weren't lying,” Poplar said once he was done and testing out his maneuverability. “Nope,” he said as he hopped down and moved up towards the front of the cart. “Thank you for letting me use your tools, my legs working a lot better. I left a buncha extra parts that I don't need anymore.” “You're very welcome. If you need to make anymore adjustments or fixes, feel free to ask.” He gave Copper a rather large, but tired, smile. He was a unicorn with a cracked horn. “Thank you. I will,” he said before trotting away. The leg felt so much better, like he wasn't even wearing it. The other one had been heavy and purposefully restrictive, but this one was just for defense and offense now and not for slowly repairing the use of his leg. Poplar moved up quickly to join him, giggling. “Hey, hey. So are you going to tell anyone else you actually have a leg under that metal?” “Mmm....” He thought about it for a moment. It would be advantageous if they thought that he was missing a limb. They would underestimate him. “Well, I'm not going to deny it. But I don't see why I should tell them?” She nodded knowingly. “Yes. True. Right. It'll be our little secret,” she said excitedly. He gave her a bit of a smile and nodded. “Mhm!” Ugh...this is like the last time I met with the Snow Queen... His eyes wandered forward, looking at the large figure near the front of the group. This sickening flow of youth... Physically he could feel it, but it had not effected him very much mentally. He frowned as he realized that he was going to have to, once again, begin his physical training regimen. “Are you alright?” Poplar asked, tilting her head to the side. “Oh. Yeah. Just...thinking about stuff.” Complicated and annoying stuff. He sighed. “We'll be stopping soon to set up camp,” she said as she walked to the other side of him, looking down at his metal leg with interest. Apparently he had spent the entire day making the modifications to his leg. “Where are we going?” She shrugged. “Dunno. Only the Lady knows.” He had hardly taken his eyes off of his mother as he spoke, just simply enjoying the sight of her. She was something like a constant in the world...he had no idea when or where he was, but anytime after this, she would be there. And she would be powerful. But he wondered how powerful she was now... Would his Shattering be enough to stop her? Or...would it have been? His brow furrowed as he tried to focus. This was when the Shattering was widespread. Could he still have it? Could he learn how to harness it? “You think a lot,” Poplar said as she tried to push him, but once again he didn't budge. “Seriously, how come you don't move when I shove you?” “Training,” he said as he pulled his gaze away from his mother. “You would have to actually strike me if you wanted to move me.” She hesitated. “I will strike you back,” he warned, or more so threatened, “And though it will not be with the metal, it will hurt.” “You're mean!” She snapped and then quickly trotted away. He sighed as the group seemed to be congregating towards each other. They spread out when traveling...but huddled together when resting... He looked around a moment before wandering away from the group. Not terribly far, but just enough to be out of sight. He moved up to a tree, old from the looks of it. He gave the tree an experimental strike with his metal arm, testing it's density. He took a few steps back and tried to strike again with his unarmored limb. Nothing happened. Again he let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps the machine had done too thorough of a job and he had truly extracted the Shattering in its entirety? Or had his age regression robbed him of it? Or maybe...there was just so little left that he could not draw on it anymore? He focused as much of his will as he could muster and struck the air again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again, until he was tired. He had begun mixing in other strikes, not just with the bare arm. He grit his teeth and struck the ground. There was a slight jolt of pain from the impact, but that didn't stop him from continuing to strike at it in frustration. He only stopped when he was too tired to continue, and promptly collapsed onto the freshly pummeled grass. That had been the plan, right? Extract the Shattering, put it in Pog, have her open the rift, get her in the Tardis, time jump, fix the paradoxes that he had created, and go home. It was that last one that had not gone according to his plan. But he couldn't understand why Pog had betrayed him...was it because Night had used him to torture her? That was illogical...he had not technically done it himself. He spat. “Technically...” Too often did his plans change because of a technicality. Dumb luck and technicalities. It was truly as if he had no will of his own and was just a puppet to the nameless one. “Copper?” He rolled over slightly to look at his mother as she slowly approached him. “Poplar said you wandered off this direction...” He tried to get up, but his legs were too shaky to even support his own weight and he gave up rather quickly. “I just wanted some alone time to think...” “And what are you thinking about?” she said, her tone so gentle and soft that Copper couldn't help but feel better. “The choices that got me here...” She moved beside him as he spoke, laying down. “I thought that if I made a plan and stuck to it, then everything would turn out alright.” His face scrunched up. “Ugh, I sound so childish.” She was wearing quite a concerned face as she leaned down and brushed some of the hair out of his face. “But you are a child, dear Copper.” “Yeah, now.” Her expression turned quizzical. “I'm...well, I don't actually know how old I am now, but early twenties I think.” She blinked at him several times, unsure if he was joking. “You are...older?” “A lot older. Ugh.” He managed to force himself up a bit, still laying down but now being able to properly look at her. “You do not know your age?” she said, still wearing the quizical expression. “I stopped keeping track. It became a pointless number...” He rubbed his face with part of his leg, trying to not rub dirt on his face as he did so. “Such a shame.” She shifted a bit and leaned slightly against him. “I lost count quite a long time ago as well...” He chuckled softly. “Well...I'm fairly certain it's more than twenty.” She giggled softly and laid her head down onto her forelegs. “You have changed your leg?” “Ah...I fixed it.” He extended the metal leg out for her to better examine it. “It was too big for my current shape. Rather annoying...but it means that the damage to my leg has been undone.” “Undone?” Her eyes wandered over the leg. “A creature known as Madam Raven...wounded me quite severely in a fight we had... I was unprepared for it and inexperienced with using the Shattering at that point, so when I attempted-” he stopped, having noticed her flinch. “It's...it's alright...you can continue,” she said softly, just wanting to hear him talk. “When...when I attempted to destroy the spell, part of it still grabbed hold and I nearly lost my leg.” He sighed softly, putting his head down into the grass. “The Shattering has done so many awful things...” “It has,” she said, her voice still soft. “I still find it hard to believe the aftermath of it...the way it cracks the horn...” He closed his eyes. “You speak as though you are very well informed. I have heard from the others on your theories on to why there are unicorns and pegasi.” She had put her head very close to his, whispering so that nopony could overhear them if they were listening. “If I may ask...why can they not use magic anymore once it has been used on them?” “Their magic becomes unstable,” he began softly, matching her quiet tone. “They can't do anything, not even basic things...the cracks go down into the very roots of their magical essence and breaks it. If their horns were just broken, they would still be able to use some sort of magic. If they had cutie-marks they would probably appear warped and cracked.” “Cutie-mark?” He hesitated and then shifted, looking back at his flank. It was still there. “This,” he said, gesturing at it. “I had assumed that was some sort of odd brand,” she shifted to get a better look at it. “Many ponies have them...” “It's a physical representation of my talent, what I'm best at. The origin of them is still quite a mystery...at least I don't know it.” She was still looking at his cutie-mark. “What you're best at...” she muttered. “Mechanical things,” he explained and lifted his leg, struggling a bit due to his muscles being over exerted. “And I am very glad that I am so good at it, because it is what I love doing.” Slowly she lifted his hoof up to better examine it. “It's far beyond anything I have ever seen...” “Or will see, probably, for a very long time. Not including the Bastille.” Again he saw her flinch slightly. “I have studied it's ruins. Much of its technology was lost and completely unrepeatable.” “Ruins...” she mumbled as she continued her examination. “Yes, it was-” he stopped, several little lights going off in his head. “I...I know how to get the Doctors attention.” There was a pause as she looked away from the arm and towards him. “Hm?” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have to destroy the Bastille.”