//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Date-ed // Story: Fallout Equestria: Action Hero // by Popcorn Chicken //------------------------------// Chapter 6: Date-ed Held in my talons was a framed photograph. Two massive griffons stood side by side, squeezing against each other as if the picture threatened to crumple under their size and weight. The gargantuan griffon on the left was Gorge, my father and the leader of the Badland Talons of southern Equestria. Proudly he beamed, resting one his thick forearms around a slimmer, but just as tall griffon trying her best smile. The grey-scale photo didn’t show her distinctive maroon highlights well enough but you easily identify her as a close relative. A daughter to be precise. My smile may have looked awkward and a little forced, but I stilled cherished this moment. Now so far from home, this picture and a few others were all I had as reminders of my friends and family back at the compound. “Gwynne, the locals may look a little spooked but they’re kind folk. They won’t start anything with you,” Glinnis said as she stepped into my bedroom effortlessly balancing a weighty box of medical textbooks across her wings and back. “And if they do, just tell Nickel or I. We’ll sort them out.” “I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” I replied lifting it off her back with equal ease. “I hope they’ll warm up to me once they learn my presence here is purely academic.” I set the box down beside my desk and stacked the books along it. For a moment I admired it; this was mine, my own private place of study. No longer was I sharing a room with a rambunctious squad of Junior Talons of whom I was the eldest. Glinnis fished out a pair of cool Sparkle Colas from the fridge in the kitchen (which was also mine) and we shared a small celebration commemorating my independence. “Now, I’ve stocked your fridge for at least a few days I hope,” Glinnis said, leaving the bottlecap on my desk and moving back into the kitchen. “I hadn’t seen you since you were only… twice my size so I bought you some mole rat meat, some squirrel skewers, a couple Brahmin steaks, carrots, sack of potatoes. For drinks; bottled water, a carton of Sparkle Colas and a couple of Ali-Colas for those late night studies. The general store is just down the road next to Nickel’s gun store. You might need him to smooth over introductions with the owner. She, uh, gets a little skittish around griffons.” I stared at the open fridge; the contents lovingly sealed, wrapped and organised by day. “Glinnis, this just too much!” I rounded on Glinnis, overwhelmed by her generosity. “It’s nothing, just happy to help,” she added with warm smile. “Honestly, you’ve done so much for me and my family. Now and in the past. There must be something, anything I can do repay you.” “Really Gwynne, it’s nothing! I’m just eager to hel-” Glinnis paused, the sides of her mouth slowly curving into a smile. “Actually… there is one thing you could help me with. When do you start work at the clinic again?” “Not until next week. Why do you ask?” Glinnis paused for thought, idly tapping her beak with the tip of her talons. “Could you perhaps… mind the nest for me this weekend?” That was an odd request. I could have sworn Glinnis’ son was old enough to be independent but if it’s what Glinnis wanted it felt rude to refuse. “Sure I can! You live in the stable underneath that old house overlooking the bay, right?” At that, Glinnis smiled. “Not my place, dear.” … Amongst other griffons, I did not have to worry about my appearance. I quickly realized my presence here was somewhat threatening to the locals. An earlier trip to locate the general store resulted in an awkward situation with the owner brandishing a broom at me while screaming “Not again!” Luckily, Nickel who owned the gun store next door was able to smooth things over and I avoided an embarrassing meeting with the local law enforcement. When the weekend came, I put some serious time and effort into making myself as presentable as possible. For the first time in weeks I preened my feathers, polished my talons, dusted off my fashionable pre-war handbag and styled my crest into a professional ponytail plumage. Ultimately, my efforts proved fruitless as the townsfolk still fled from presence, worriedly glancing and muttering from safe vantage points. I guess I still towered above them and this handbag was riddled with bullet holes. It was something my father had scavenged from a raider camp. About an hour later – half an hour after he was supposed to be here – Gillet arrived, touching down across the street from me. His appearance was perhaps odder than mine. Why was he wearing leather-armour to a date? Did he expect to need armour? Was his lateness due to him seeing me and then flying home to pick up some other kind of protection? Perhaps not. Gillet clearly wasn’t taken back by my size as he strode confidently across the street to me, strutting his stuff in an exaggerated fashion. I slipped my Canterlot Internal Medicine back into my handbag, stood up and moved to greet him. “Gillet, right? Hi, I’m Gw-” “You’re studying to be a doctor, right? Wanna study some of my…” He lowered his sunglasses and looked up to me with sly orange eyes. “… anatomy?” the cheeky griffon’s brow started wriggling around like some irradiated beast in its death throes. I stood still for a moment, stunned by his brashness. “I beg your pardon?” First impression: Gillet was not at all like his mother. Suddenly, he coughed dramatically. “Oh! I think I’ve caught something… could I perhaps get a private check-up?” He said, repeating the exact same actions. I honestly had to wonder if his intricate control over his brows were a natural talent or if he had worked just as hard as I had with my medicine to hone his skills. I spared a moment looking foolish to collect myself. With a grin, I returned fire. “Don’t see anything physically wrong with you,” I said, a compliment and a little honesty to deceive him first. “But judging from how you greeted me with innuendo, there's probably a whole textbook of mental problems in there. Let’s start with something basic. What’s your relationship like with your mother? Do find yourself having similar urges around her?" “Urges?” Gillet asked, cocking his head to the right just slightly. I winked in response. “No! I do not have any urges!” Gillet squawked, recoiling a little. I found the flush of pink underneath his feathers equally amusing and adorable. “Don’t bring mum up like that! It’s the last thing I want to think about on a date!” “You did ask for a check-up,” I replied with mocking innocence. “Yeah, no, I just… never mind!” Gillet sighed, pushing his sunglasses back up on his beak and straightening his flustered crest. “Okay, try this one then,” he cleared his throat, dropping his tone of voice down a few octaves. “I’m an organ donor. Interested in seeing what I’m offering?” he said, again wriggling his brows. “Where do you get all these from?” I asked with an amused trill and admittedly warm cheeks. I was balancing an equal amount of lewd thoughts and immature delight. Gillet’s confident smirk vanished, replaced by some nervous, confused fidgeting. “Can I try one?” I mocked checking my breath. “I’ve got a vial of Med-X here, how about you and I add two more X’s to it?” I tried rapidly raising and lower my brows but I had no hope of matching Gillet’s speed. “No, no, no,” Gillet repeated, shaking his head. “It’s supposed to be me using these lines on you.” “The jokes you mean?” I corrected. “They’re not jokes!” Glinnis had been insistent on briefing me before tonight. Apart from profusely apologizing in advance for what Gillet might or might not do, she gave me a list of quirks and his interpretation of a pleasant evening together. Up until now he had done everything Glinnis had said word for word. “Gillet, I already agreed to spend my evening with you. You don’t need to woo me with some witty one-liners,” I said gently and slowly. He may be an adult but I felt like I was addressing a nestling with a crush. Gillet went to retort but instead he paused, looking a little confused. “But some of them were very clever. Did you make them up all for me? That’s very sweet of you.” Gillet hesitated, mulling things for a moment. I waited patiently until he finally looked up, with an apologetic smile. “Thanks, Gwynne,” he said taking a seat on the bench beside me. “And sorry.” “That’s quite alright.” Suddenly, Gillet’s head dived forward, his beak now inches from my right forearm. “Woah!” he exclaimed. “Is that a scar? Did it hurt?” “Oh this?” I raised my arm and examined the small cluster of discoloured scales. “Not as much as you would imagine. It was only a very small bullet and I didn’t notice until after the fire-fight. By then I had a lot more!” I lifted up one of my wings, casting a shadow over Gillet’s side of the bench. Along my flank and side were a line of similar, pockmarked circular scars. “It was quite the learning experience removing them.” Here I had expected intrigue and fascination from Gillet, based on what Glinnis had said about his interests. Instead he appeared shocked or intimidated, his expression only worsening as his vision slowly crept over each scar. “Y-Yeah… that would be interesting… ” mumbled Gillet, forcing a chuckle afterwards. “Can we go for a walk?” “How about a tour? I’ve yet to see most of Friendship City.” … Gillet and I took a relaxing stroll through the main street and market district of this small wasteland town. He showed me sights and attractions like the general store, which immediately closed shop the moment we passed by and the Statue of Friendship which Gillet incorrectly cited was a titanic pre-war war machine. I had to credit his imagination at least. Also, with him in tow the townsfolk were less terrified of me. I even found myself fitting in, laughing with the ponies who embarrassed Gillet with numerous quips and playful jabs. That may have sounded a cruel but he was fully capable of responding to each and every one with distinct one-liners. Some were stunned, others speechless but everyone appreciated his humour. Amidst all the attention I found myself re-evaluating my impression of this smart-beaked griffon. He appeared to be phenomenally creative and had an impressive grasp of wordplay, yet Glinnis had said made him out to be incredibly simple. A contradiction; one I would attempt to put to rest before tomorrow. Eventually Gillet and I made our way out of the streets and down the Friendship City bay. There, we sat down on a bench and watched Manehatten across the strait. “Gwynne… you’re a doctor, right?” he asked, finally plucking up the courage to speak directly to me again. “Not yet. For now, I’m just gathering skills until I think I’m qualified enough to take up the title.” “Well, if you’re just learning to be a doctor, how’d you get all those?” Gillet vaguely gestured to my side. “‘Cause those aren’t really doctor-ish.” “Hm, they really aren’t.” I paused, preparing to state a fact I had hoped to keep irrelevant to tonight. “Well, I was mercenary before I swapped careers.” That certainly piqued Gillet’s interest. “Really? Like a combat medic? That’s really cool, Gwynne.” “Not exactly. Medicine is my passion, but prior duty was squad leader for a wing of junior talons.” Gillet almost did a double take. “You… are a Talon?” “Was a Talon.” I sighed as Gillet’s beak hung open, his sunglasses dropped down revealing nestling-like fascination in his eyes. “It’s a family business. My Father, Gorge currently leads the squad out of a compound near the Badland Borders. Our family has been operating down there for nearly a century.” I recounted. My tone may have been droll and dry but I did appreciate my rich family history. “I was next in line to inherit leadership. I instead choose to discharge myself.” “Discharge? As in, you were forced to go?!” Gillet tightened his grip on the benches’ handle and propped his sunglasses up on his crest. “And you lost your chance to lead them?! That sucks! What’d you do? Let a raider go or something?” “I willingly choose to be discharged,” I reiterated but Gillet just stared, dumbfounded and a little aghast. “Listen; my father felt he did good by keeping the Badland Borders safe for traders. Now I on other talon feel I can do good as a doctor; healing the sick and wounded wherever needed. Does that make sense to you?” There was a heavy silence before Gillet nodded just slightly. I was glad to see he was open to reason… even if that reasoning had to be spelled out for him. “Mum said the Wasteland could use more doctors,” he said softly. “Indeed she did. Your mother led me here to Friendship City after and put in a good word for me down at the clinic. Even offering me a place to stay in your Stable-home. You and I nearly shared a room!” Gillet shot me a sharp, alarmed glare. I’m guessing Glinnis hadn’t mentioned that to him. “But still… just letting you go like that? It must sting a little.” he then said. “You will come to understand that the life of a Talon is both dipped in militarism and strict traditionalism. Discharged may come across as a strong word, but it’s the conventional or traditional term to use,” I explained, dipping my talons in the air when necessary. I disliked being a Talon, but the theory still stuck to me. “My father didn’t chase me from the compound under a hail of gunfire and insults. Quite the opposite really; he threw a farewell feast, gave me some gear and sent me on my way. I promised to write to him every month and your mother was generous enough to courier the letters, free of charge.” Gillet mulled over my life tale. “What about your squad-mates? Don’t you miss them?” “My fellow Junior Talons gave me the courage to confront my father. My little brother, though sad to see me leave, was actually overjoyed for he was now first in line for leadership. He and father shared more common interests then I did with either of them.” Gillet shied away abruptly, flinching like he’d just been hit. “I’m sorry you and your dad didn’t get along.” “Oh, I don’t mean it like that. Father and I got along just fine. It’s just that the only thing we could relate to was our unnecessary strength… Well, unnecessary for me. He was rather fond of his bulk.” “So that’s why you’re so…” “… Large framed?” I suggested. “Really freaking big and muscly,” he said instead. I guess I should praise his honesty. “Is it just a family thing? Could I be that big one day if I trained just as hard? I’m willing to try!” he said excitedly. I silently ran my eyes over Gillet, physically appraising him: slim body, sleek wings, an impressive sheen to his feathers, flat crest, taut hindlegs and… an admittedly cute tush. I suppressed a lecherous urge to grab it. Overall Gillet was slick and streamlined; built much better for flying and not necessarily fighting. Well, not the style of fighting my father and I employed. “Maybe you could include me in one of your letters?” he then asked. It was hard to say no to a face like that. “You and father would get along rather well.” Gillet’s everything lit up; his wings shot up harder than a raider under sustained minigun fire and I swear I saw sparkles across enraptured irises. “However, recruitment remains closed until father is sure my younger brother is ready to take my position. Maybe I’ll mention it to him in a couple of months, when things settle down.” “Thanks, Gwynne.” “Now, enough about my boring life. Why don’t you tell me about yours?” Gillet perked immediately, leaping off the bench and fluttering his wings before striking a silly pose before me. “I’ve spent my entire life training to be a Talon Mercenary!” “Your whole life, huh?” While I didn’t want to spoil he dreams, I couldn’t hide the slight tone of worry in my voice. “You’re dead set on this?” “Yep! I even have my own contract ready.” He produced a fragment of parchment, scribbled messily across it was Gillet. I eyed it with a hint of hesitation. My father’s company still utilised personal contracts, all of which belonged to him, a trusted leader. However, most modern Talons had abandoned them generations ago. Shrewd ponies had a tendency to abuse literality of contracts and exploit the trust of young, naïve Talons. “What’s the matter? Is my name spelt wrong?” “Nothing, Gillet. Don’t mind me.” I’ll mention it to him later. “So you’ve got everything ready for a mercenary career?” “Yeah! I’ve got it all planned. Wanna hear it?” An unexpected feeling of unease surged into my mind. I felt as if a gun was levelled to my head and two upside down cups placed before me. “Gillet, I’m sure you have a brilliant pla-” “I do! It’s so genius it’s guaranteed to propel me to the head of the Talons!” he said, sounding more like a shady merchant peddling rusted guns. “It starts with Fillydelphia! First I’ll fly down there and…” … He wasn’t lying. Gillet’s vision of what was to come rivalled the detail of my most expensive textbooks. Its length I’m sure would have outpaced them. Not only did this plan encompass his own lifetime but also centuries later and just as many before. There were names, terms and events completely unheard of to me. I’m sure even my father – a career Talon – would be just as lost. I sat and watched the sun’s slow descent towards the horizon behind cloud-cover, nodding occasionally as Gillet went on and on. Though I had promised Glinnis to keep Gillet occupied for the night, I wasn’t sure of how much more of this I could endure. My father, mother and even my little brother had all lectured me on the finer points on life as a Talon; much like Gillet was doing right now. I could appreciate their wisdom as it was at least factual and grounded in reality. Gillet currently sounded like a patient dulling his senses with some medicinal herbs. Maybe with a little peck on the cheek maybe I could remind Gillet that I was his date and that I was still here? After all of this, I did deserve a little something in return. As I leaned towards him, Gillet abruptly turned to me to ask for my approval of some miniscule detail. There was a soft squelch and a brief pause before Gillet screamed. … We sat in silence in a small café near the shore. Gillet had slid down in his chair, his beak almost level with the table while also resting a cold Sparkle Cola against his bandaged eye. Whenever locals walked by, he propped the menu up as makeshift cover. “You’re lucky I have a curved beak,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood. “The complications might a little more permanent otherwise.” Gillet’s response was to grumble something and pout like a nestling denied a toy. Now I really did feel like I was babysitting. “Gillet, I’m sorry but you were rambling on and on about being a Talon. I needed to get your attention somehow.” “It wasn’t that much…” “I lost track after you detailed the giant bronze statue of yourself to be erected in the heart of Fillydelphia,” I said sternly. “You are not the only one on this date remember.” Gillet’s brow creased. For a moment, he tensed up as if he was prepared to get up and storm out. Thankfully he eased, sitting up straighter and addressing me directly. “You’re the first Talon I’ve really had a chance to talk to. I just wanted to learn as much as I could, y’know?” Gillet removed the Sparkle Cola from his eye and offered it to me. “I’m sorry if got a little carried away. Mum usually stops me when I start rambling.” I took a sip and handed it back to him. “I suppose circumstance isn’t in our favour. It’s good that you want to learn as much as you can but I didn’t envision an evening of being lectured on a subject I was never fond of. I guess I’m sorry as well.” “We don’t have to talk about what we want to do… or what we’ve been,” he put forward slowly. “What have you always wanted to do? Er… other than being a doctor.” I rejoiced; finally something plain and simple to talk about. “Many things, now that I am in charge of my own life. First, after my studies here, I want to travel somewhere where it snows. The clouds are heavier and lower there. You can interact and touch them without fear of the Enclave.” “I’ve played with the clouds before.” “You’ve been to the alpine north?” “No, I went up above them around here,” Gillet said simply. “You’ve been up there? Honestly?” I stared, a little shocked at first. “This isn’t just another part of your script is it?” “Really, I just... y’know… flew up there.” My surprise and shock turned slowly into a scrutinizing stare. However, Gillet remained calm and emphatic. “Can we go for a little fly-around first? I promise I’ll tell you all about it.” “Sure, we can do that.” … That was Gillet’s most intelligent suggestion thus far. After he adjusted to his temporary loss of depth perception, we took a relaxing fly-around of Friendship City before the sun fully set. From there we perched ourselves on the Statue of Friendship’s snout and Gillet told me about his adventure above the clouds. “Mum was furious when she found me! Burst up from the clouds and held them at gunpoint ‘cause she thought they were soldiers taking me to be locked up in a zoo and experimented on,” recounted Gillet, imitating his mother with a quick flap of his wings. Usually, I would have a hard time swallowing a story as outlandish as this but Gillet managed to make it somewhat believable with the amount of enthusiasm he poured into his recount. “I would have done the same thing if my only son had flown up there to join some pre-war flight camp!” Gillet chuckled before leaning in slyly, “You probably could scare them to death.” His wings flinched as I nearly punted him off the edge with a playful jab. “Father always told me to avoid the clouds and more importantly, the Enclave. I guess you’re lucky to have come across two civilians on a picnic. Did you ever hear from Shuffler or Adder again?” “Nah, but I imagine they’ve adopted like six or seven foals now,” he said with a smirk. “Maybe taken over the orphanage by force.” A peaceful silence drooped over us as we gazed across the strait toward Manehatten. The city seemed almost dead leaving Tenpony Tower to stand out, it’s patch work of lights visible from here. Briefly, I felt an urge to affectionately lean against Gillet but I also didn’t want to risking accidently crushing him and ruining the moment altogether. Thankfully, Gillet spoke up again before anything remotely awkward happened. “Gwynne, can I ask you one question that’s kinda related to the Talons?” he said quietly and cautiously. “Just one.” “Hm, I think you’ve earned at least one,” I said sitting back up to show my attentiveness. “Go ahead.” He hesitated briefly. I could see tell-tale signs of uncertainty and doubt all over his body, especially in his eyes. “If you were still in charge of Gorge’s Junior Talons, would you recruit me?” he asked, fidgeting with his talons. Now I paused. Not due to a lack of answer, but temporary mesmerisation by his wide, shining eyes. Briefly, I wanted to snuggle up close to him and tell him everything was going to be alright. “It’s a little more complicated than a simple yes or no answer. The Badland Talons have a prestigious reputation to maintain. I would have to trial you first, evaluate you mentally and physically. Reference your history, contact any talons or ponies you’ve worked with in the past and then run everything by the Senior Talons. Then physical and live fire trials begin. The whole process takes months at its shortest.” That was not the answer Gillet was looking for, but he asked the question and I answered as truthfully as possible. This is a serious decision in any griffon’s life and sugar-coating it would only hurt him in the future. “I just ask because mum was going to ask the Manehatten Talons if I could join them as a junior,” he explained, adverting his gaze to the statue plating as he spoke. “You let your mother do the talking for you?” I commented. That was perhaps something I should have kept to myself. Gillet’s fidgeting ceased as his spirit deflated. “I don’t make very good first impressions. I get a little… over-confident and say stupid things,” he said quietly. I tipped my head slightly in agreement. “I just want to know if you think I’d make a good Talon or not. If I’ve got the right…” he shrugged slightly. “… y’know, stuff.” I hesitated with thought this time. By now I had enough evidence to form a basic, rudimentary analysis of Gillet but I had my doubts on how helpful it would be. “Come on. Let’s fly down to my place.” I jumped off the statue edge and flared my wings slowing my fall like a log tied to a pair of feathery parachutes. Gillet simply dismounted and took the air effortlessly, cutting through it like a scalpel to flesh. During out little fly-around earlier; I had confirmed my brief physical appraisal of Gillet. Simply put he had a natural aptitude for flying. Gillet could put laps around me – not that that was at all challenging – but I’m certain he could outpace some of the trained Senior Talons with a little effort. I wondered if he was even aware of his own potential. Our flight was short and soon we touched down in front of my shack, a wave of dust and dirt clouded the street in my wake. I turned to face Gillet, he was eager for my answer. “I apologize, Gillet, but I don’t feel this is something I am qualified to answer. In fact, I would doubt any Talon’s input. Even my family argues about what makes a good Talon: father said it was Loyalty, mother said Duty, brother said Honour and I? I said Worth.” “What about Passion?” My beak hung open as I paused for thought. Glinnis had told me to expect my father’s enthusiasm for the Talons from Gillet, minus the wisdom. She also said he was an idiot. Now though, I was seeing a young griffon with big dreams and eagerness to boot needing only a little guidance or a kick in the right direction. “Honestly Gillet; I do not know. A virtue is something only you alone can discover. If you stay true to it and a love of what you do, then I’m sure you can be the best at anything.” Unfortunately, I was not currently in a position to feel responsible for him in any way. “Thanks, Gwynne,” he said, looking the happiest he had the entire night “Some real advice though; don’t rely heavily on your plan, er, script,” I added, maybe saving the afternoon of some hens Gillet would attempt to woo in the future. “The Wasteland has a way of subverting what we think will happen, regardless of how meticulous our planning is.” Gillet nodded, still with a smile. “Sure thing!” Now with all that out of the way, I had my own question to ask about his virtue. “Say Gillet, can you apply that vigour and zeal to anything you want to?” He cocked his head a little to the right. “You’re passionate about becoming a Talon, but that’s all? Nothing else?” “Well… no, I guess. I really like my movie collection too, and my mu-” his pupils shrunk to dots and his cheeks puffed out suddenly. “Yeah! I’ll do the crap out of anything I want to! I’m just that kinda griffon!” “Are you willing to prove that to me?” “Sure! Whattya want me to do?” He rose up on his hindlegs throwing punches with his forearms while fluttering his wings to keep his balance. His talon-to-talon posture and technique was imposing but would not hold up in a real fight against an opponent with basic, elementary knowledge of close-quarter combat. “Lap around Friendship City? Some flying tricks? Movie trivia?” I was a little confused; I had encountered Gillet under hail of pick-up lines but when I used one on him in a genuine attempt to seduce him, he was completely oblivious. Maybe a more direct approach would be easier. “Come to bed.” “Of course I wi-, wait, what?” I was no saucy temptress but I did know a few tricks here and there, one in particular involving my prehensile tail. I turned from Gillet and stepped into my shack with a slow and sensual gait further accentuated by my natural size. My long, slender tail flicked upwards brushing the poufy tassel against Gillet’s chest, rustling his feathers before tickling the underside of this beak and beckoning him inside. I skipped through my shack feeling a little giddy; I hadn’t pulled anything that smooth in some time. I entered my bedroom continuing past Gillet to my bedside table where I had left some scented can… I paused with my talons out-stretched to the first drawer. In the photograph of me and my father, I could see the reflection of another griffon. I spun around to find Gillet was already laying across my bed! His leather armour was strewn across the floor, still buckled up, and in-place of the bandage was a black eye-patch – by the Great Egg, where did he get that? Across his nethers was my copy of Feathers and Fur: A Pony’s Guide to Griffon Anatomy and on his beak was a suave smile matched only by the cover of my Barely Eagle: Hen’s Edition magazine. After performing the Pony Polka with his brows, Gillet opened his beak but I darted forward and pinched it between my own talons. “Don’t ruin this, Gillet.” …         I swept the floor of Nickel’s Gun-Porium with a warm smile the next day. True to his word; Gillet could pour his passion into whatever he wanted, especially if it meant proving his worth. I put him through some rigorous practicals and tests that night and can happily say the results were… satisfying.         Afterwards we talked and agreed just to remain friends. Though we very much enjoyed each other’s company, it was clear that Gillet and I didn’t mesh all that well. Just minutes after waking up he again told me of his plans – after I said “fifty words or less,” – to go off adventuring, chasing his dreams and passions while I had a rigid future of medicine and studying. We would still keep in touch and enjoy the benefits our friendship provided.         A soft tinkling roused me from my thoughts. I turned to see Nickel, the namesake-coated and platinum-maned gun-runner, skipping up through the store front doors looking just as cheery as I on this quaint morning.         “Morning Gwynne! How was your date with Gillet?” he asked almost in sing-song.         “Good morning Nickel, and not too bad. Little rough at the start but we managed to salvage it before morning,” I answered, sweeping the store floor slowly.         “Good to hear! Good to hear! Always liked the kid!” Nickel practically leapt the counter and landed gracefully in his chair. He levitated over two Sparkle Colas, offering one to me.         “And how was your night with Glinnis?”         He closed his eyes and smirked. A light but telling blush fluttered across his cheeks. “It’s the start o’ something beautiful.”         As happy as Nickel and I were, I still had to wonder. I figured Gillet had to be somewhat possessive of his mother. I could not imagine him taking this news positively at all.