Tables and cabinets lined the walls of the workshop. Barely a hoof’s width of space was left free on any of the counters. Half finished gadgets, broken prototypes, and untested devices covered any space that even resembled a flat surface. The floor was in no better condition. Everything from table-saws to auto-hammers filled the workshop’s available space, leaving barely enough room for a pony to navigate the mess.
Near the far wall a yellow mare wearing a heavily stained, white lab coat held a beaker filled with a green liquid at her eye level. Picking up a test tube with her other hoof, she carefully poured its clear liquid into the green. Lifting the beaker to the light above her head, she began to swirl it. Her breath stopped, her eyes riveted on the glass.
As the green liquid spun in a funnel of water, thin tendrils of purple began to grow from its center. The purple spread, runners shooting off the initial tendrils. The lines began to cross as they grew. In short order, not a drop of the green was to be found.
Her jaw jutted out and to the side, and she blew a frustrated puff of air into her red bangs. The beaker clicked on the counter, hitting a little harder than necessary. Picking up the pencil between her lips, she crossed another line off the clipboard before spitting it out. The wooden stick hit the table, bouncing off and flying away, likely never to be seen again.
“Having problems?”
“GAH!” she screamed, nearly jumping out of her skin. Putting a hoof to her chest she fought down her acute case of hyperventilation. Turning and glaring at the intruder, she said, “Would ya please stop doin’ that?”
Erebus picked his way through the workshop. “How do you find anything in this mess?”
“That’s easy. All I’ve got ta do is remember ‘xactly where I put everythin’.”
“And do you?”
“Ah.” She paused, a frown tugging her lips as her eyes surveyed the workshop. “No.”
Erebus said no more on the subject, unstrapping the grapnel from his left fetlock instead and placing it on the table next to the clipboard. Applebloom scooped it up and examined the device, giving the stallion a questioning look.
“The cable was cut.”
She held the device to her own fetlock. Pointing it up toward the ceiling, she flexed her hoof, but nothing happend. “Would it kill ya to not break somethin’ for once?” she asked, without expecting a response. Making her way through the workshop, she stopped in front of a large, metal wardrobe. Opening it, she produced an identical copy and tossed it to the stallion. “I suppose you want me ta do somethin’ to keep it from happenin’ again?” Before he could respond, she continued, “I’ll figure somethin’ out. Try not ta break that one too quick, I ain’t got anymore spares.”
When she turned back to face him, it was already attached, and a syringe filled with a red liquid hovered in the air between them. “I need you to analyze this.”
“Ya know chemistry ain’t exactly my strong suit,” she said, motioning to the glassware on the table they had left. “What's it anyway?”
“It’s a blood sample from...” Erebus paused, contemplating just how much he should tell her, “a mare. I’d like to know everything you can tell me about her from this.”
“She’s a pony,” Applebloom replied, deadpan. The stallion’s face seemed to harden even more. Taking the syringe, she held it up to the light. “Alright, alright, Ah might know somepony who can do somethin’ with it. But he’s gonna ask questions. What should I—” she glanced back, only to see a distinct lack of another pony in the room, “—tell him?”