//------------------------------// // III: A Night in the Fog // Story: Tinkermane // by Razorbeam //------------------------------// Twilight hopped out of her seat as soon as the door was up and out of her way. Her eyes were wide and her mane was swept back from the rush of wind. Gearrick had hardly slowed until they'd reached more populated areas of Main Street, and the Nomad's mad rush across the open road had left her breathless from a combination of shock and thrill. Gearrick stepped out onto the cobblestones as well, almost fully obscured by the Nomad's tall frame. He trotted around the front of the metal monster, peering into the grate in the front before coming around her side of the vehicle with his trademark smirk still intact. "Did you have to do that without warning me?" Twilight asked, regaining her composure and using her magic to smooth her mane back out. "Probably not. But this is the first time I've been able to take this thing out for a spin. I wanted to see what it could do, especially with the demonstration phase starting first thing tomorrow morning. Seems like she's working beautifully though, doesn't it?" he asked with a small laugh as Twilight's expression shifted into one of surrender. It wasn't a point worth arguing; not against a crazy pony. "Well, the next time you decide to 'test' something, at least give your passenger a couple of seconds to get ready," she muttered. "Fair enough," Gearrick conceded, turning as the rattle of small wheels over cobblestone cracks met his ears. He'd been careful to park near where Old Jack usually propped his stand for the night, and sure enough out came the elderly earth pony, dragging his massive, mobile stall behind him. "And here comes our dinner now," the tinker said with a small smile, trotting in the old pony's direction. "Evenin', Jack," Gearrick called pleasantly. "Evenin' nothin'!" Jack groaned, tugging on the rope behind him that was attached to his cart. "Ya told me these wheels would stay oiled fer at least three months! I can't hardly budge the sucker anymore," he griped, dropping the rope and fixing Gearrick with a scowl that only forced his massive eyebrows an inch lower. "Yeah, and I said that six months ago," Gearrick reminded him. "I'll get them tuned up again before I head out tonight, but I can't stay too late. I've got a lot to do." "A lot to do, eh?" the old codger asked with a sly grin, looking past Gearrick to Twilight, who was keeping her distance from the friendly conversation the two stallions were having. She was leaning into the Nomad and reading all of the buttons and levers on the dashboard. "Taking advantage of the festival crowd, are we?" "Nothing like that," Gearrick said with a scowl. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Jack." "Sure, just as soon as you get my cart out of it," he chuckled, trotting past Gearrick to get a better look at the Nomad, which he was just now noticing. "This the contraption?" "Yeah, that's the one," Gearrick said with a roll of his eyes, walking over to Jack's stall. With a hefty tug of his magic he managed to get the thing rolling again, pulling it to the center of the street. "Damned good work, kid. Smoothest lookin' machine I've seen since this steamtech business all started. What's she do?" "A little of everything," Gearrick huffed, finally getting the cart into place. He slowly turned the crank on the side of Jack's establishment, watching with satisfaction as the simple mechanisms did their work, expanding the bar, unfolding the awning, and raising up the numerous stoves and frying vats which hadn't been warmed up yet. "I built her for travel, though. I figure, with things going the way they are with the Gearbox Guild, even if they turn me down I can still use this baby to get out of town. Maybe try my luck in Fillydelphia." Old Jack was nodding, poking around the machine. Gearrick noticed that one of the foldouts on the cart wasn't unwinding like it should have. Double checking to make sure the old stallion wasn't looking, he gave it a swift kick with one of his back hooves, causing the spring-loaded section to pop into place suddenly, and loudly. "You better not be hurtin' my cart!" Jack called from the far side of the Nomad, bringing a smile to Gearrick's face. "It's my cart, last I checked! I do all the maintenance," he shot back, making his way back over to the Nomad. "I can't get away with anything," he muttered with a good-natured sigh. "Excuse me," he called gently, giving Twilight a quick poke on the shoulder. When she didn't react the first time, he cleared his throat loudly. "Everything alright, miss Sparkle?" She whirled around suddenly, her face flushed with embarrassment. "O-oh, sorry. I guess I got a little carried away; there are just so many buttons and levers. Figuring out how it all works could take days!" she said, recovering her speech as her excitement overpowered her sheepish reaction. "Well, depending on how long you're in town, you just might have the time to learn them all," he said with a small laugh, edging past her as she moved away from the door. He fished around in the back seat, pulling a red toolbox out with his magic. "Worst case you can always come back to town and find out." "You mean it?" she asked, surprised that he would invite her back to examine the Nomad so readily, especially considering that this invention was his pride and joy. "Yeah, why not? Anyways, stall's all set up. And if Jack knows what's good for him, food should be started soon!" Gearrick said, shouting the last part to get the old stallion's attention. "Ya don't have to yell, I ain't that old!" Jack retaliated, coming around the hind-end of the Nomad and making for his establishment. "Old or not, I am that hungry. Considering I'm fixing your stall for free, again, the least you can do is make me some food," Gearrick said with a sly smile. "Yeah yeah, I'm goin'," Jack harrumphed, moving around to the back of his stall. A short while later the sound of a flint lighter and the whoosh of a fire being lit sounded from within, muffled by the red velvet curtain. Twilight shared a laugh with Gearrick, both well-pleased with the back-and-forth sense of humor. "Well, why don't you go ahead and take a seat? I need to tune up some of the stall's mechanisms, and then I'll join you for a bite," Gearrick said, wandering off to the stall and not really waiting for her answer. Still smiling as the good mood lingered on her lips, Twilight made her way inside behind Gearrick. The tinker was hard at work on the wheels at the far end of the stall, greasing them up with a little oil can and occasionally lifting the stall a few inches with his magic to twist a wheel with his hoof before setting it back down gently. Now and then he would fish around in his toolbox for something before going back to work on the stall's various moving parts. "Does he always fix the stand for you?" Twilight asked Jack, thinking it best to leave Gearrick to his work. Even though the task was small his brow was creased with concentration, a sure sign that he was better left alone for now. "Well he didn't used to. Back in the day I had a good ol' fashioned 'sticks and stones' stall. All that means is ya had to take her all the way apart and put her all the way together each night. Between setup and teardown, it cost me 'bout an hour of solid business day to day. Gearrick was still new to town in those days," he said, setting down a glass he was washing. A few more patrons walked in, obscuring the tinker from view. Jack had to break off his chat with Twilight for a short time to greet them. He made it a point to usher them to the seats furthest from Gearrick while he worked, though the busy unicorn never seemed to notice the extra people anyways. "So what happened then?" Twilight asked when Jack finally had the time to come back to her. She sipped on her glass of wine idly, having once more been coaxed into drinking. "Well, Gearrick wouldn't let up 'bout how my stall had the best food in town, and so he was always comin' back. One night it was jus' him and me sittin' up late and talkin'. I lost track of time, and figured I might as well just leave the stall up for the night. It makes some of the store owners in the early hours upset, but it doesn't do any real harm. When I said I was turnin' in without closin' up, he offered to take her down for me. Claimed he was gonna be up all night anyways. I didn't figure he'd do any damage the local punks wouldn't if I left it out all night, so I let him have his way. All he asked for was a bottle of whiskey in return," he finished, chuckling fondly at the memory. "Next evenin' I came to get to work, found it like this. It was still in the street, all set up, and there he was, splayed across the bar and about as awake as a stone, empty whiskey bottle in one hoof, wrench in another. He turned this ol' thing into the best stall on the street in jus' one night," the old man said, picking up another glass and washing it out. "I tried thankin' him once, but he wouldn't have it. He keeps it workin' the way it does all on his own, out of the goodness of his heart. I figure he thinks it's his job, since he's the one who built it." Twilight smiled as she caught sight of Gearrick through the shifting bodies of the other patrons. The story was oddly touching, despite its simplicity. Gearrick had gone out of his way to do the old man a favor he never would have asked for otherwise. "He sounds like a good guy," Twilight put in idly, taking the last sip of her wine. "He is at that," Jack agreed, immediately pouring her a refill. "I jus' wish I had some way to repay him. He won't take free meals for his trouble. Won't take nothin' since that first bottle of whiskey. He's the sort of fella ya only pay once in yer life; I don't think he believes in owin' or bein' owed," Jack finished quietly, turning from her to handle a few of the other requests coming in from down the bar. That gave Twilight some time to think as she sipped on her second glass. She hadn't gotten anything to eat yet, thinking to wait for Gearrick. It seemed that those around him were full of stories about him, yet he hadn't said much to her about himself. He was too busy talking about whatever came to light moment to moment, or about what he loved. She wanted to know more about him, and it surprised her to find out that she was more interested in this inventor than his invention. The Nomad was amazing, but it didn't have a history. What little it did have it shared with Gearrick, and everything about him was strange and new to Twilight. He was unlike anypony she had ever met before, and so she quietly resolved to wait, hoping to learn more about him over their dinner together. A resounding clang and muffled curse rang out from the far end of the bar, causing Twilight to have to repress a giggle. Jack came back, the motion of his mammoth eyebrows suggesting that he was rolling his eyes. "He broke the damn foldout clean off," Jack muttered to Twilight, leaning on the bar tiredly. "Maybe he ain't worth payin' anyways." Gearrick had a bottle of whiskey waiting at his seat before he had finished packing up his tools, along with a plate that matched Twilight's in the spot next to his. He had a smile in place even as he slid into his chair, which pleased Twilight. "Thanks Jack," he said, already twisting the cap off the bottle of whiskey. "Don't thank me, kid," Jack said with a laugh. "After what ya did to that foldout, I wasn't even gonna feed ya. Ya can thank the lady here, she's the one who insisted I dish ya a plate." "Hey now, I fixed it," Gearrick countered, taking a deep pull from the whiskey bottle and pointedly ignoring Jack as he walked away. He never saw Twilight flush red as Jack smiled at her over his shoulder. She hadn't done any such thing! Why would he say it was her idea? "Thanks, miss Sparkle," he finally said at length, giving her a warm smile. "Please stop calling me that," Twilight pleaded, picking up her fork with her magic, cheeks still holding a slightly pink tint. "I'm not a school-teacher." "But you are a librarian," he pointed out with a chuckle, stabbing his own kitchenware into a patch of noodles and twirling it around. "Anyways, your first name is Twilight, right? I didn't mean anything by it, I was just trying to be polite." "That's right. Anyways, don't worry about polite. I've got a few friends who've never even heard the word," she chuckled, Rainbow Dash coming quickly to mind. "If you say so," he replied ironically, his mouth already full of food. Twilight resisted the urge to giggle, glad to see the formality so readily disappearing. Sure he was a stranger, but the two of them seemed to get along well enough already. "So, 'mister Tinkermane', I've heard a lot about your invention, but nothing about you," she said casually, chewing on some food of her own. "Well, there's not much to tell, honestly. What did you want to know?" he asked, setting aside his fork and fixing her with a curious expression. "Well for starters, why did you come to Manehattan?" Twilight asked, continuing her meal despite the fact that he had halted his. His response was a simple, breathy laugh and a semi-sad smile. "It's always kind of been my dream to work in a city like this. Ever since I was little steamtech has fascinated me. Manehattan is more or less the birthplace of technology, so when I was finally old enough to venture out on my own, I just had to see it with my own eyes. At first I came for the same reason you did. To see the festival," he said, his sad smile turning into a more real and happy one. "But after spending a week here, I realized I loved this place. My parents were always very understanding ponies, and so when I wrote home saying I wanted to stay and try and make a living here, they just wished me the best. I always used to tinker, even before moving here. I took apart countless things, and pissed off countless ponies when I didn't quite put them back together," he said with a laugh. Twilight laughed as well, nodding. His story made sense, and it sounded like a great time; following his dream, doing whatever he wanted as it came to him. He took a short break and resumed his meal while Twilight thought up a new question. "I heard a rumor about you today at the festival," she began cautiously, realizing that this might be a touchy subject. "Judging by your tone, I have to assume you mean the thing with the steamtech guild," Gearrick said idly, his voice neither positive or negative. Twilight just nodded, sipping on her wine. "That's a long story I wouldn't want to bore you with," he said with a chuckle, and she could tell that he was only being halfway sincere. He wanted to evade the question, which only made her want to ask it more. What was it that could make such an outwardly stable pony so uncomfortable? Part of Twilight's nature was simply being nosy, but part of her wanted to hear in order to better understand him, and maybe help him. Something about him made her stomach feel funny, but in a good way. Just talking to him was strangely exhilarating, and it wasn't just that he was mysterious. "Why not just tell me?" Twilight asked, trying to keep her tone pleasant. "It seems like most ponies know about it anyways." She had the misfortune of seeing his smirk vanish on the wings of a hefty sigh. "You're right; everypony knows about it," he said quietly. "Not exactly the name I was trying to make for myself, but that's just life." He finally managed a laugh at himself, dispelling some of his own bad mood and bringing the smile back. "It's not worth being upset about anymore. And you're right... everypony already knows the story." "So you'll tell me?" she asked, smiling hopefully. "Sure. It'll be nice to tell someone my side of it for once," he said with a bittersweet smile. "Normally the guild beats me to it. But we can deal with that after dinner." He let out a warm laugh, digging back into his plate. "I'm sure you've got some stories to tell, too." Twilight smiled, glad that he had agreed to tell her. She could understand if it was something he'd want to talk about in private, especially after what little she had heard. She could feel the excitement rising with the promise of even more secrets being revealed. Finishing her second glass, she nodded, and began recounting some of her many adventures as the two of them finished their meals together, the good mood returning. Twilight watched in shock as Gearrick produced far more bits than necessary for his own meal and bottle of whiskey, and all the while Jack smiled knowingly. "Hers too?" he asked. "Hers too," Gearrick replied evenly. "And a bottle of wine." "Gearrick, you don't have to-" Twilight began, but Jack swiped up the bits before she could finish. "Lady, after he's had a bit to drink he ain't worth arguin' with," Jack said with a chuckle. "And jus' look at the bottle: he's had plenty." The old pony wandered off to deposit the money and grab a bottle of wine for Twilight. "And I plan to drink the rest of it!" Gearrick called after him, causing Twilight to chuckle. He didn't seem to be too drunk, but it was obvious he had loosened up significantly. All the energy that he usually kept hidden was now bleeding through, which Twilight enjoyed. "Thanks, Gearrick," Twilight said with a small smile. She wasn't unaccustomed to generosity, but having her dinner bought by somepony she had just met seemed a little odd. "Don't mention it," he said with a warm smile. "I've still got a bit or two leftover from the last contest, and even if I don't place in this one I should be good for the next couple weeks." "Not place?" Twilight asked, honestly unable to comprehend how that could be possible. "The Nomad's amazing, you'll sweep the contest easily," she insisted, the alcohol in her own system making her just a little more bold with her brain-mouth filter. "Well you never know," Gearrick said, whirling the closed whiskey bottle through a quick flip before catching it deftly again by the handle. "She could break down during stage three, or someone could try and run me out of the competition in the finals. Happens all the time," he said with small smile, as if it weren't a big deal. He fixed his eyes squarely on hers for his next words, to better convey his gratitude. "Still, thanks for the vote of confidence. It means a lot, Twilight." Slightly drunk and easily lost in those hazel eyes, it took Twilight a few moments to respond. "D-don't mention it," she replied hastily, mimicking his earlier deflection. He didn't seem to notice her stammering, and just laughed at the irony of the situation as she fed him the same phrase he had used. "Alright then, if you insist. Anyways, I think I promised you a story, and I'm a stallion of my word," he said, smirking. "Hey Jack, are we square?" he asked loudly, the two of them the last ponies at the bar besides the proprietor. "More than that, ya paid too much," Jack said idly, flicking three bits up and down deftly, the coins clinking together as they landed. "Ah, keep 'em," Gearrick grumbled, pushing himself up from his seat. "It's just three bits." "Suit yerself," the old pony chuckled, depositing them in a safebox, which he took with him each night. "Have a good night, you two!" Twilight extracted herself from the bar as well, smiling at the bushy-browed pony. "You too Jack. I expect at least one of us will be back for dinner tomorrow night," she laughed. With one final wave, she followed Gearrick outside, marveling at how much warmer it had been inside the curtain. Gearrick was walking ahead of her a few yards, carrying her wine bottle and his own half-empty whiskey container. He very unceremoniously dumped them both into the back seat, then took up a place standing by her door. Flushing as she realized he was waiting to get the door for her, she quick-stepped the rest of the way, hopping up into her seat. With a short laugh to himself and a barely noticeable shake of his head, Gearrick pushed the button that lowered her door into place before circling around to his own seat. "What?" she asked as he moved around the front of the Nomad. "Nothing," he said with a telltale smile. "Just think it's funny that you hurried on my account. I wasn't going anywhere without you either way," he pointed out, shutting his own door and revving up engine one. She allowed herself a laugh as well, quietly thinking how strange he was. He'd go out of his way on anypony's account, then question it when anypony did the same for him. "Now then, the Gearbox Guild always insists you shouldn't operate machinery after drinking... Just one of their many rules I don't like to follow," he chuckled, stepping on the accelerator gently. Twilight braced herself for the worst, but was pleasantly surprised to find Gearrick taking it more slowly through the quiet and narrow side-streets. "So where are we going?" Twilight asked pleasantly, not really concerned with the destination so much as curious. She smiled to herself as she watched streetlamps zip past, along with a few wayward midnight travelers on the sidewalks. "My place," he said with a shrug. He chuckled to himself like he'd already done several times that evening and shook his head. "This must look terrible," he muttered under his breath. "What was that?" Twilight asked, leaning closer to hear him better. "Heh, nothing," he said, waving her question way. "Just talking to myself." Hardly satisfied with his answer, but content just to experience the pleasant evening air and the drive, she performed a once in a lifetime feat and put it to the back of her mind. A few twists and turns later put them on a street that ran along the Manehattan River. Bright lights dotted the bank far ahead where the power plant ran full-tilt, even at this late hour. Streetlamps lined the sidewalk along the bank, benches spaced every so often along the way. The cloud of steam that always housed the city gave way over the cool river, and so the moonlight filtered through, glistening in the subtle ripples and small waves of the steady flow. The myriad lights of skyscrapers and countless riverside bars lit the waters as well. It was a stream of lights, beautiful and entrancing. Twilight silently marveled at it, staring until it suddenly vanished from view as Gearrick pulled around a corner. Startled by its rapid disappearance, she was drawn unwillingly back into reality as they came to a gentle stop in the back of a small warehouse. Gearrick left the Nomad running as he hopped out, unlocking some chains binding the barn-style doors and throwing them wide. That done, he hopped back in the pilot seat and pulled the Nomad inside, the vehicle just barely squeezing through the wide door frame. Once he had it in the middle of the warehouse, he turned the lights off and parked it once more, powering it down and clambering out of the machine. "Grab the drinks, would you?" he asked pleasantly, wandering away before Twilight had even located her door-opening button. Once she finally had it open she did as he asked, picking up the two bottles with her magic and looking around for him in the dark. Some lights flickered to life overhead, the one directly above her staying steady while a few others struggled to remain lit. One finally went out on the far end of the warehouse, the one closest to the river. All along the runway of light were various strange objects, covered in dusty sheets that looked like they hadn't been touched in ages. A workbench rested against the wall only a few yards from where the Nomad was parked, tools scattered all over it, along with various pieces of paper, some oil-stained and others covered in completely incoherent writing and sketches. Next to the bench stood Gearrick, hoof on a switch on the wall, scowl in place as he glared at the light on the far end. "Piece of junk..." he muttered, letting go of the switch. "Are all of those your machines?" Twilight asked as she trotted over, pointing to the canvas-covered things. "Not exactly; that's all scrap material left behind by the printing company who used to own the warehouse. Some of it's useful, especially the gears in the presses, but most of it's wood or paper. Paper's useful too I guess, saves me money," he chuckled, pointing to a few newspapers that had obviously been used to clean up some kind of grease spill. Twilight looked around, a confused expression on her face. "You live here?" she asked, noting a distinct lack of furniture. "Well not down here," he said with a laugh. "The company offices used to be above here, so that's where I keep my bed and stuff like that," he said with a small smile. "And that's where we'll be drinking. Come on," he said, making his way over to a staircase behind the light switch. Twilight followed along, silently admitting that she found the dusty old warehouse a little less than impressive. She couldn't honestly expect him to clean the entire thing on his own, especially if he only used a small portion of it. Still, the spider web underneath the second flight of stairs didn't bode well for what was to come, she mused. Two flights of stairs later and she was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. The upstairs was a single long hallway with various rooms branching off, presumably the offices. Each door was open, and each of these rooms was tidy and well-dusted, and the floor of the hallway seemed recently swept. Satisfied that he at least kept where he lived clean, she followed as he made his way to the door at the far end. "Welcome to my humble home," he chuckled, throwing the door open and ushering her in. She dropped the bottles on a table in surprise, unable to contain herself as she wandered to the far side. All along the ceiling were various metal pieces of art; not machines, just conglomerations of mechanical parts forming everything from birds to miniature versions of machines not yet built. Colored pieces of glass hung in little bundles, sprinkling hundreds of hues about and jingling against one another in the breeze from a draft somewhere. She stopped at the bank of windows that overlooked the street and the river beyond, where the sea of lights greeted her again. She turned back to face Gearrick, who was smiling sheepishly due to the expression on her face. "I know it's not much..." he said quietly, closing the door behind him. "Are you kidding?" she asked suddenly, reaching up and poking one of the glass nests with her hoof, causing the specks of light to dance and the shards of glass to produce a melodic sound. "It's amazing! And the view is just..." she stopped, unable to think of what to say as she looked over her shoulder to the river again. "This room was the executive office for the printing company," he explained, relieved that she wasn't disgusted by his plain standard of living. "They took all the furniture along, but they couldn't take the view. I get to keep that," he chuckled. "You're one lucky pony," Twilight admitted, sharing his laugh. "Isn't riverside property expensive?" she asked, walking closer to him to talk more easily. "It is if you own it, but I'm just renting. And the view might be nice, but Manehattan was built on the river back in its beginning. That means the buildings closest to it are the oldest, in case you didn't notice," he chuckled, pointing to the condition of the creaky flooring and dingy windows. "The company's old CEO still owns the mortgage to this place, so he has to pay it off somehow; between being so run-down and him being desperate for help with the mortgage, I get a good deal on my lease," he explained, trotting past her and standing at the window. A soft smile played at his lips as he looked out at the river, bringing one to Twilight's face as well. "Did you make all these?" she asked, poking the glass thing again and causing it to chime. He didn't have to look at her to know what she was referring to, thanks to the sound, so his gaze stayed fixed on the river. "Yeah, it gives me something to do in my spare time. I can't always be working on my inventions, I'd go crazy. Sometimes it's nice to make something just for the sake of making something, and not have to worry if it works or not," he explained. "You say it like you aren't crazy already," Twilight risked a joke, feeling she had a decent grasp on his sense of humor by now. He laughed at that, and she shared in his mirth, glad he wasn't offended. "So they say," he added at the end, turning to smile at her. "Though I'm inclined to agree." Twilight smiled back, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach as their eyes met for a short while, no words spoken. "Well, no sense standing. The couch is new, at least, so no need to worry it will fall apart on you," he said with a chuckle, gesturing to a simple brown cloth-and-cushion sofa that was against a wall, clearly seldom-used. "Actually..." he mused, drawing the word out as his horn lit up. The couch followed suit, ringed in a copper-colored magical halo as it floated over to the window. Gearrick spun it around until it was facing the window that overlooked the river, nodding in satisfaction. Twilight smiled as she snatched the liquor bottles back up, trotting over to the couch. It was a three-seater, so she took one of the ends, sighing as she sank into the comfortable cushioning. Gearrick just smiled and shook his head as he took the end-seat opposite her, hind legs stretched out in front of him, one foreleg draped over the back. He tilted his head back and sighed in comfort as he mirrored her reaction to the plush seating. She giggled, tossing his whiskey bottle his way, watching it bounce and roll from the center seat right into his side. "Thanks," he sighed, his eyes still closed as his magic unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to his lips. He let out a grunt of satisfaction through his nose as the whiskey burned his throat, head still leaned back. She smiled, uncorking the wine bottle. Her sense of etiquette encouraged her to ask for a glass, but something about the setting and her company insisted otherwise. After the lecture she'd given him earlier on formality, she figured she was better off following his example. She took a long swig from the bottle, gasping at the end as the heftier-than-normal pull from the bottle tickled her throat. Gearrick opened his eyes at the sound, seeing her drinking out of the bottle, face flushed from a large pull of liquor. He fixed her with a mischievous smile, jingling his own bottle. "So the lady can drink," he teased. "Yes she can," Twilight huffed, taking a more liberal sip from the wine bottle and turning her nose up, something she would expect Rarity to do in such a situation. Gearrick just laughed. "Well, how about a quick trade?" he asked, capping his whiskey bottle suddenly, and throwing it her way with his front hooves. Startled, Twilight barely caught it with her magic. She'd never had whiskey before, hadn't even heard stories about it. Applejack drank it sometimes, but if the diligent farm pony ever drank she usually wasn't in a talking mood. Her lack of knowledge on the subject manifested in hesitation as she dropped the bottle into her hooves, turning it over and over. "Too strong for you?" Gearrick asked, yanking the bottle of wine out of her magical aura and pulling it over with his own. "I've never had it before," she clarified. "What's it like?" she asked, still looking at the bottle. "Well, there's a first time for everything. Try it and find out, my explanation wouldn't do it justice... or encourage you to drink it, probably," he chuckled. Too drunk to argue it any further, Twilight unscrewed the cap and put it to her lips. "Cheers," Gearrick called, following suit with the wine bottle. "Mmm, not bad," he admitted, pulling the wine bottle away. Meanwhile Twilight gasped and coughed, screwing the cap back on the whiskey bottle. Gearrick just laughed. "I thought you'd say that. It's an acquired taste," he admitted, gratefully accepting his whiskey bottle back as she yanked the wine away from him, taking a sip of it to get the taste out of her mouth. "You could have warned me! How can you drink that stuff?" Twilight asked, scrunching up her nose. "Well, practice mostly," he chuckled. "Well, you can keep it to yourself," she muttered. "Anyways, what about your story?" she asked, her tone going more tender. "I understand if you don't want to tell it." "No, it's fine," he said with a smile, clearly no longer as uptight about it as he had been at dinner. "Remember how I said I came to town for the festival?" he asked. Twilight nodded, unconsciously pulling her hooves up onto the center seat, laying down on her back and getting more comfortable as she faced him. "Well, I had intended to enter that year. It's an open event, and anypony can compete, though traditionally only self-employed tinkers or those working for the guild have the time or money to enter. Anyways, I missed the deadline that year, so I had to content myself with watching." He sighed, recalling the disappointment of missing his entry. "I've always tinkered, ever since I was little. But there's a big problem with my tinkering," he said sheepishly. "I have no license." Twilight eyed him curiously, aborting her most recent sip of wine, bottle halfway to her mouth. "I went to school for steam-tech specialization," he explained. "But before I was ever given my final examination I made a... mistake," he said, putting a hoof to his jawline and rubbing one of the scars there. "I got ahead of myself, tried to take on a task bigger than I should have." "I was wondering about those... they're identical. What happened?" Twilight asked quietly, wine sloshing in the bottle as it tipped up and down again. "A train made an emergency stop in my home town, Tackton. The engine was leaking steam, and needed repairs. I'd never worked on something so large, but I thought I could handle it, thought I knew all the safety procedures for welding a steam-tank like the one on the train. But a textbook's no teacher, and reality is harsher than words," he said with a chuckle. "Since it had just stopped in town, the heat was still enough to keep a little pressure in the tank. I could see a little steam leaking out of the broken weld, and I knew enough about pressure ratios to know it was harmless. I didn't throw the release valve, thinking I could get them back on the rails without running the pressure down. So I got to work," he sighed. "But, funny thing about welding, it generates heat. As soon as I completed the weld, the heat from my torch had raised the pressure enough that the molten metal couldn't hold it. With the hole closed up, the pressure went the path of least resistance, which was straight out the new weld and into my face," he said sadly. "Burned like hell. I'm lucky I had my goggles on, or I would have lost my eyes. At it stands, I'm lucky these two small scars are all I have to show for it. The reason they're symmetrical, or almost, is that the weld split at the ends, so I got hit with two streams of steam," he explained. "But that's the least of the damage I took. Once I got out of the hospital, my professors were furious. I should have contacted them, or at least a senior student. I was only twelve at the time, and I had no business messing with live steamtech outside the labs. I was expelled on the spot, and no other school would take me," he finished evenly. "Gearrick, that's terrible!" Twilight gasped, trying to think of something she could say. "Well, it's not so bad," he admitted. "After a year of searching, I was finally apprenticed by a pony named Brass Tacks. She was a magnificent tinker, and just like me, she never completed her formal training, though unlike me she had left of her own free will. She was sympathetic, and knew that my passion could more than make up for my lack of booksmarts. Creativity and innovation were just as essential as a good schematic, she often said. I couldn't help but agree with her. I had never done well in drafting classes, had always half-assed anything I didn't find interesting. But under her hooves-on training I learned more in her care than I could have at any school. Even though I consider that training to be far superior to that of a technical university, not everypony shares that view..." he muttered. "The guild?" Twilight asked. Gearrick nodded, taking a long pull of whiskey in the same go. "The Gearbox Guild, the largest steamtech guild in the known world. They have over one hundred and twenty members, all of them top of their class from various universities. My opinion?" he asked, waiting for her to signal she gave half a care. Once she nodded, he continued. "They're all a bunch of stuck up, spoiled bastards!" he vented, shaking the re-capped whiskey bottle violently in the air. Twilight just chuckled, and she was glad when Gearrick joined her for a laugh. "Anyways, after the contest I got a chance to meet the winner, and the head of the Gearbox Guild as well. I tried to show him my invention, explain it. But he just laughed, even called in some of his friends to 'join in the fun' as I did my best to explain my mechanical wings. When I explained that I had trained under Brass Tacks instead of earning a formal degree, they wrote me off. The current head of the guild went to school with her, and apparently never let her live it down when she dropped out. Half of it was just his 'holier than thou art' sense of pride, and half of it was honest disbelief. It was a far-fetched idea, but besides that who would believe a pony trained by a dropout? I was less than the lowest tinker to them," he said quietly, his gaze faraway as he looked out the window. "But when the time came, you flew, right?" Twilight asked, trying to lift his spirits. "That's the rumor I heard. Not that you failed, but that you flew, even though they said you couldn't," she said warmly, setting aside her quarter-gone wine bottle. He turned his gaze to her, his smile warm with gratitude. "That's right. I flew, and they all watched as I ruled the sky and they crawled in the mud. I so badly wanted to rub their faces in it," he said with a sigh. "I know that must sound terrible." "After how they treated you?" Twilight asked in disbelief. "I don't think its terrible at all, to want to prove yourself." "Thanks, Twilight," he said fondly, patting one of her back hooves in appreciation. She smiled sheepishly, unsure what to make of the contact. "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for." "Friends, huh?" he asked, looking into the opening in his whiskey bottle. "You know, I never had very many." Twilight just smiled and screwed the cap back onto his whiskey bottle, drawing his attention back to her friendly grin. "There's a first time for everything." Twilight waved as Gearrick sped off in the Nomad, the sound of its engine fading quickly down the dimly lit street. He was out of sight soon enough, leaving her to wander through the revolving door of her hotel and up to her room. She plopped down on the bed, her buzzed mind willing her eyelids heavier and suggesting that perhaps it was time for sleep. Despite the strength of that urge, her mind was too busy thinking and reflecting on the day's events to heed it. The festival had been wonderful, and she could easily recall the thrill of seeing the Nomad for the first time, the confusion and intrigue surrounding Gearrick. She could almost relive the quickening of her pulse as he had picked her out of the crowd, and the simple enjoyment she felt just holding conversation after conversation about the invention. Beyond that it had been a good night, the two of them sharing small stories over dinner. Twilight had done most of the talking then, finding a ready and attentive listener in Gearrick. He had laughed warmly and often at the antics of her friends, and she had trouble containing her own giggles anytime he explained some funny portion of his own history. She recalled the upsetting tale he had told her, silently marveling at his resilience. Even in an environment like this, full of such ridicule, he maintained a drive to prove them all wrong. He should have run long ago, found opportunity somewhere else, yet he stayed. Even that bittersweet tale had been a beautiful part of her evening; a glimpse into his life, just as she had wanted. She realized that she liked Gearrick's company, but in a way far different from the company of others. Even knowing she would see him again the next day, his departure had set off a twinge in her heart for a split second. He had such a warm sense of humor, such an infectious laugh. His smirk filled the world behind her closed eyes. She checked the clock, sighing as she noticed that a half-hour had already gone by due to her failed sleep attempt. She realized suddenly that this was strange: she'd never been kept awake by thoughts of this nature before. Her midnight heart-to-heart with Applejack came to mind for the first time in weeks. She'd put thoughts of stallions to the back of her mind after that, trying her best just to move past it. Yet here she was, head full of Gearrick Tinkermane, and she had trouble believing that the talk with AJ and the recently-met inventor weren't related. She thought on that for some time, reflecting on the heartfelt talk, and on how her evening with Gearrick had been. She'd never had feelings for anypony before, didn't even know which feelings were the 'feelings' in question. She didn't know what it took for a mare to date a stallion, or for him to find her attractive. But she did know one thing: she liked being around Gearrick. He was intriguing, clever, and funny. Despite the scars on his jaw, she couldn't help but blush as she realized she found him handsome. She wouldn't call it love by a long stretch, but she could say with confidence that she found him interesting, in more ways than one. It didn't make sense, and she didn't want it to. Thinking about him made her heart speed up, and she was excited to see him again, to learn more about him. She remembered Applejack's words, and smiled as she found them to fit this situation almost perfectly. "It's jus' about actin' on yer feelings. When yer heart says jump, an' someday it will, ya jus' have t' trust it t' know best." It wasn't jumping time quite yet, she knew. Even so, she couldn't deny that her heart was full of feelings; strange and unfamiliar ones. Good ones. She let the thoughts come as they did and stopped analyzing them as they slowly became dreams, ushering her into slumber. Gearrick walked silently through the warehouse, one much larger than the run-down shack he was renting. A workbench with top-of-the-line tools sat nearby, but he didn't let his attention linger on them. He wasn't here to gawk over a toolbox mightier than his own. He had work to do. Picking the lock had been simple enough for a stallion familiar with the inner workings of innumerable machines. A few twists and turns with a flat-head screwdriver and a paper-clip was all he needed. He sighed as he looked at the canvas covered device before him. He knew that he shouldn't be here, that he should leave. Being caught here would disqualify him at the very least, and they might even arrest him for trespassing. He shook his head, his face determined. The look of panic on that young lady's face when he had said that it might explode, and the possibility that it might cause somepony harm, was worth risking the competition for in a heartbeat. He pulled the sheet off the lifting machine silently, lighting his horn and poring over it until he found the offending weld he had spotted earlier. Examining it more closely, he realized that it would most certainly give under the steam pressure it was designed to contain; there was no chance in hell the machine would survive the contest as it was. "Sorry, old man..." he muttered quietly, pulling a welding torch out of his backpack with his magic. He shifted his work goggles into place, sighing in resignation. It was something he had to do. He would never forgive himself if the tinker who designed this machine was hospitalized, or worse killed... not after knowing what he knew. "You might think I'm inexperienced. You might think I'm too young or too stupid. You might be too proud to listen to me," he whispered, lighting the torch. It flared brightly, reflected in his red-tinted goggles, casting stark shadows all around him. "But I'm not proud enough to watch you get hurt."