The inventor turned his head to see his assistant practically tumbling down the stairs in his excitement to see Spike, and snickered, moving over to the front door to open it for the purple dragon. "Come on in, Spike. Never mind the mess." Though, honestly, the mess was mostly just clean up now. The three of them had tackled the problem bright and early and cut the monstrous bulk of the mess down to only a small and irritable chunk of mess left over.

He turned to look at Starcrasher, and nodded. "Sure, Star, that would be fine," he said gently. "Go and relax. We'll talk later when you're feeling a bit better." With the arrival of the dragon, mixed with knowing that Widget himself wasn't exactly a parental figure, he could certainly understand her unease. Hopefully, she would feel better on her return and be able to talk more rationally about exactly what was going on.

Turning his attention back to the dragons, he couldn't help but to smile again. "You shouldn't need a break, you've been napping for half an hour," he said with obvious amusement to his assistant. "I suppose that's what happens when you learn you have magic in you, it makes you tired. But yes, we can get a mid-morning snack down at Sugarcube Corner if you want."

Spike stepped inside and waved to Starcrasher. "I'm Spike, good to meet you! I met Widget and Quill the other day when, uh..." He grins wide, "He was looking for someone!" He walks back toward Widget and raises a finger authoritatively. "And don't be fooled, sir, into thinking Quill's demands are unreasonable. Dragons have prodigious appetites, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day! I would definitely recommend a donut outing before Quill and I get faint from hunger!"

Quill found himself standing alongside Spike, sensing that solidarity and strength in numbers would almost certainly result in donuts. As Spike mentioned how breakfast was the most important meal of the day, Quill joined in, although he couldn't quite bring himself to raise a finger at Widget, he did make an attempt to look authoritative by adjusting his tie a little.

"With mid-morning-snacks being a close, um, second, in.. importance, and, um," it was apparent that Quill didn't quite share Spike's bravery when it came to telling his boss what to do, as his words got quieter and quieter, "growing dragons and, um.. icing on the donuts and, um, maybe some juice too.."

After Spike had passed and she had reached the door, Starcrasher smirked as she looked over her shoulder to Widget, now being assailed by no less than two baby dragons.

- "I'll try to be back in an hour or two. Oh, and good luck with that."

Though she wasn't going into specifics just what she was wishing Widget good luck with, it was clear that donuts had at least something to do with it.

--> To: Adventure Zone #006: Into the Woods -->

"See you soon, Star," said Wiget as he waved to the filly in parting. His attention back on the dragons, he couldnt help but find it both hilarious and adorable how they had so quickly teamed up to convince him how important mid morning donuts were. They were almost like little lawyers, arguing their points, complete with tie and raised finger respectiively, and he almost expected one to shout OBJECTION! any moment.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "Donut break time. Let's go to Sugarcube Corner." He raised hia hoof up and held it out. The little metal bird, Tik-Tok, had flown from its perch and landed on Widget's hoof, where it promptly transformed into a silver and blue watch. Opening the door via magic, he waited for the boys to go first so he could lock up behind them.

>>> TO: Sugarcube Corner
This message was last edited by the player at 04:44, Tue 12 June 2012.

"...and maybe some of their te- What? Really? Thanks, boss!"

Quill looked a little bit surprised, as he was rather expecting there to be at least another five minutes of negotiations, but it seemed that Widget was happy to acquiesce to the request for brunch. Turning on the spot, he made his way to the front door and out, only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Widget wasn't going to change his mind.

[Exit to... Ponyville Business District - Sugarcube Corner]

Spike waved goodbye to Starcrasher and followed Widget and the other dragon to the nearest supply of sweets.

to Sugarcube Corner

[From... Ponyville Business District - Sugarcube Corner]

After the short walk from Sugarcube Corner to the Workshop, Quill had calmed down a little, although his head still ached a little from the emotions he felt that he couldn't properly put in to words. A bit of time with the boxes of things, maybe a couple of minutes counting the gears, Quill considered, and everything will probably be fine.

"Yes, it'll be fine," the dragon told himself, taking a deep breath to help calm himself.

Most of that calm promptly evaporated when Quill tried to open the front door of the workshop, finding that Widget had indeed locked it before leaving. He tried pushing it, he tried pulling it, he tried giving it an angry glare and, for a brief moment, he considered trying to burn the door down. Finally, he just stood there, his forehead resting against the wooden door.

"Think, think, think," he repeated over and over, each word punctuated by the quiet thunk of Quill gently knocking his head against the door, "think, think, think..."

<<< FROM: Sugarcube Corner

Widget hurried after his assistant, arriving, luckily, only a few moments after he did to the locked door of the workshop. "Quill?" he ventured with obvious concern as he came close, looking down at his assistant as worry shone behind his glasses. "What's the matter? Why are you so upset?"

Quill rested his head against the door as Widget approached from behind, ceasing the think-thunk-think patter and saving the wooden door from a head-shaped dent at dragon height.

"He asked you about me," he turned about on the spot slowly to look up at Widget as he struggled to fit the words around how he felt, "but he didn't ask me! He said where he came from! I have a name! And I... I wouldn't ask you where Starcrasher came from! N-n-not while she's right there and eating donuts!"

With it all said and out in the open, Quill looked a bit more relieved, although his claws were still curled up in to tight little fists.

"I'm really sorry, boss," he added quietly, "I just, um, you know, when you feel like you're not really there, but you are, but, um, they talk like you're not? I don't think I like that."

Widget looked down at his assistant with a gentle expression, one that mixed sympathy, understanding, and just a drop of pity. By how Quill had reacted to Spike's social faux paus, it had happened to him in the past, and with enough frequency to really bother him. He approached him and placed a gentle hoof on his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I'm sorry, Quill. You're right, of course. It's not right to talk about somepony like they aren't there. I don't think Spike meant any harm - I think he just asked me because you were busy eating and he didn't want to interrupt you. But that doesn't make it right. And it wasn't right for me to answer him, either."

He pulled off his hoof from the little dragon's shoulders and opened the door for them, motioning for Quill to enter the workshop. "Come on inside. We can talk, if you want."

"It's jus-" Quill was about to continue until Widget placed a hoof upon his shoulder and spoke. While the words offered comfort and explanation in equal measure, which helped with untangling his thoughts and making sense of the whole situation, the comforting gesture caused the dragon to visibly relax. With his fists no longer clenched, Quill very carefully patted the hoof upon his shoulder.

"T-t-there's, I just, it's.. I'm sorry for r-running off, I didn't know what to think, and, that's never happened before, and it didn't make me feel right," Quill turned and entered the workshop, smiling a little at seeing the slightly more familiar surroundings and how it was looking tidier than it did last night, "and, um, the.. I wasn't sure if it was, um, normal to feel like that."

"I think I just need a bit of t-time," he made it a few steps in to the workshop before turning to look up at Widget again as he considered the subject of time, "oh! Oh! I, um, you've got an appointment to keep, and I'd hardly be doing my job as an assistant if you weren't ready for that, and, what if you're late, or not ready, or late and not ready, or if you forgot to bring something, or.."

Quill began to rattle off a list of all the things that could possibly go wrong, although the list began to get more and more extreme and specific in the things that could go wrong ("a shooting star lands on the library!", for instance).

Ah. Well, that made sense too. It was a new and painful experience for the little dragon, and Widget nodded his head as he followed his assistant back inside the workshop. "Well, it's probably not best to just run away when you feel strange. You should probably talk to Spike, explain how you feel as best you can. He'll understand. I should go apologize to Mrs. Cake, we both left in an awful hurry..."

Quill's mention of his appointment startled him, and he looked quickly down at his watch, which immediately transformed into the bird once more. It chimed, softly this time, and Widget made a face at it. "Knock it off, Tik-Tok," he mumbled, gesturing for the automaton to move away with a wave of his hoof. He looked down at the dragon again. "Yes, you're right, I do..." He watched Quill for a few moments. He seemed mostly alright now... and a little busy work would keep his mind off his troubles. "Alright. I'll go get ready."

Making his way quickly upstairs, he washed the dirt and grease off his hooves and face from where he had smudged it after handling all the bits and pieces of his trade over the morning. He took pleasure in picking out a rust red canvas vest equip with pockets, much less formal than the one the night before, and picking up his red oval-rimmed glasses from his bedside table once more. He did his best with his hair, but it had always had a mind of its own, and he sincerely hoped that Twilight would think it was cute rather than untidy...

"I'm leaving Tik-Tok here with you, Quill. If you need anything at all from me, just tell it to find me. It's very good at doing that." He straightened his glasses and then stood by the door, looking and feeling anxious and just a bit nervous. "How do I look?"

As Widget prepared for his lunchtime rendezvous, Quill began work on sorting through another box that had been tucked away underneath a workshop bench. Inside was a collection of tubes, each equally sized, with a stopper in each end - further investigation, which involved fumbling around with one of the stoppers, revealed that each one contained a large piece of paper, carefully rolled up. Of yet more interest to the dragon was that you could remove the stopper from the other end and look through it like it was some kind of telescope. Quill thought it was odd to think he was worried about anything, really, and fairly soon his concerns were forgotten, banished by the powers of the thick cardboard tube.

"Arrr, Tik-Tok, where ye be?" Quill smiled a little as he swung the telescope around to spot the bird while doing his best impression of a pirate, he instead caught sight of Widget coming back down the stairs and quickly lowered the tube from his eye.

"You look fine, great, actually," the dragon nodded firmly and tried to sound reassuring from his seat upon the floor, before gesturing to his own chest and eyes, "I like how, um, the red waist-coat and the red glasses sort of go together! If you're, um, worried about the hair thing, you could wear a hat, maybe? N-n-not that you should be worried about the hair thing! There's no hair thing to worry about!"

"And if there's any trouble, I'll let Tik-Tok know, but I'm certai- pretty sure that everything will be fine!"

Widget's smile narrowed slightly as Quill mentioned his hair, and he gave a small grunt in agreement. He made a slight face, raising his hoof to try and fix his hair, but to no avail. He didn't have any hats, spare for a welding helmet and face guard, and didn't think that would go over so well, not to mention he couldn't eat in it. "Well, I suppose if I delay any longer, I'll be late. If Starcrasher comes back, don't let her 'reorganize' again, alright?"

He smiled at his assistant and adjusted his glasses again, moving to the door. "There's food in the fridge if you get hungry. If you go out, please lock up. The manual key is on a hook on the wall in the kitchen by the light switch. Have fun... Matey." He smirked, and left the workshop.

Tik-Tok, it appeared, had perched on the edge of the cardboard tube, and peered down inside of it with a curious chirp.

>>> Widget exits: TO: Summer Song Cafe

Quill could hardly contain his excitement as Widget left, leaving him the entire run of the workshop, protection of all its precious contents and even permission to eat things from the fridge. This was it. This was his opportunity to shine, to show Widget that he could be trusted with these responsi-

"Careful, Tik-Tok-bird, those things are probably really important," he very carefully brought the tube back up to his eye, so that he was peering through the other end to look at the mechanical bird, which Quill imagined to be peering back at him. After a few seconds of studying the bird through the tube-telescope, he replaced the stopper on his end. "So, we're going to count the gears," he began, trying to focus his mind on something approximating work, "then we'll have to find some paper to write it all down with, and we'll need ink and quills too. No point doing a count of the things if we don't write it down. And.. if a customer, um, oh, Widg-"

He looked at the closed door.

"-oh, right."

Quill turned to look around the workshop and, after a minute of pushing boxes around, he had constructed a fairly safe way up on to one of the workshop benches, upon which he now stood, granting him an impressive view of the workshop.

"Welcome to Widget Whatsits' Wondrous Whatchamacallit, " the young dragon proclaimed, addressing an imaginary customer, "no, no, um.. Welcome to Widget's Workshop! Would you like a spring?"

And so Quill began to spend his time practicing greeting imaginary customers, rather than actually getting work done.

It wasn't long after Quill really got into his practicing that there was an actual appearance of somepony at the door.  A sharp series of knocks rapped out and the Dragon could see a uniformed Earth Pony through the window toting along a large wagon.  Both the badge on the mare's hat and on her closed wagon announced that she was part of the Ponyville Postal Service.

At the sound of knocking, Quill carefully climbed down from the workshop bench and walked over to the door, mentally rehearsing his welcoming line, adjusting his tie and trying to breathe at the same time. With one last, deep breath, he opened up the door.

"Welcome to Widget Whatsits Workshop With Wondrous Whatchamacallits Where Wheels Won't Wobble Wildly ... wait, um, I think I got that wrong, sorry," Quill stood in the doorway, smiling nervously up at the mail-pony, "I don't know if it should be where wheels won't wobble wildly or where watches will work, and Tik-Tok wasn't exactly helpful there, I don't really understand the chirping."

"Welcome to Widget's Workshop," the young dragon, after another deep breath, decided to try again, "I'm Quill, how can I help, Miss Pony-With-A-Ha.. oh, is this the mail? Did Widget get a package? He's out right now, but, but I can look after it until he gets back from his lunch-date!"

The Mail Pony seemed a little bemused not only over the sight of another Dragon in town, but one so eager to recite such an odd little bit of alliteration.  She giggled despite an effort to keep a professional attitude and tucked into her mail bag to produce a few letters.

"Well, if you can sign for everything, that works out just fine.  Plus I was hoping to run into you, sir." the mare smiled.  Now what was that supposed to mean?

The letters she handed over were quite varied, though none looked like they were of personal nature.  Mostly just official looking messages, bills from property owners Widget accidentally wronged with a crash landing, a few notes from the Equestrian Royal Treasury handling updates to Widget's bank account, and the like.  Meanwhile the mare raised up into her wagon and pulled out a large box that clanked and rattled as she carried it over to set it down on the doorstep.  The stamp on the side of the crate marked it as being from a parts supply distributor in Fillydelphia, so it was likely more inventory for Widget's many projects.

"And this should be the last of it.  Look familiar?" the mail pony asked as she hauled down the last packages.  No doubt to the little Dragon's surprise, it was his run-away luggage!  The handle had a 'No Owner/Return to Delivery' tag on it.  "This showed up just this morning after taking a ride all the way up to Manehatten.  Good thing news travels fast around here -- it wasn't too hard to track you down since there's not exactly a whole lot of Dragons in these parts."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:25, Mon 18 June 2012.

"I'm surprised that Widget gets so many letters, this one looks important, this one's got red letters on it, I think this one is from Canterlot," he started shuffling the letters around with his claws as the mail-pony handled the large crate, "...and, you were, I mean, um."

He looked up from the letters and almost dropped them as his suitcase was set down. Best of all, it was intact, just the way he left it, with no sign of damage at all.

"T-t-thank you! You have no idea how important this is, thank you," he put the letters on top of the mystery crate before rushing over to the suitcase, resting it upon the ground and fiddling with the two latches that held it together, "thank you, I'm, um, just.. going.. to make sure he's okay, and then I'll sign for the things!"

Finally, the two latches were clicked open, and Quill opened up the suitcase with a big smile. Inside were stacks of paper, each stack neatly bundled up with string, and if the uppermost sheet of each bundle was anything to go by, they were filled with columns of numbers. Lifting up one of the bundles, he rummaged around with a claw for a few seconds, before extracting a fairly beat-up looking stuffed toy in the shape of bear. While it had a single eye in the form of a wooden button, a slightly singed leg and a crumpled red tie much like the one the young dragon wore, Quill didn't seem to mind or complain that it'd been damaged in transit. The dragon looked up at the mail-pony with a look of joy and relief.

"I'll sign for all this, ma'am."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:52, Mon 18 June 2012.

The mail mare stood by as Quill inspected his luggage -- while she was quick to assure him that all deliveries via Equestrian mail service were perfectly safe and in prime condition, she could understand him wanting to check for himself.  When he drew out that battered stuffed toy she had to raise a hoof to her mouth to keep herself from squealing.  The little Dragon was just too cute~!  Thankfully she kept a professional air and didn't let Quill catch her getting giggly over his unwitting adorableness.

"Yes sir.  I just need you to sign here and here." she offered over a clip board and a fountain pen.  The forms on the board were simple enough and were little more than delivery receipts proving the packages had indeed gotten where they were meant to go.

Very, very carefully, Quill set the stuffed toy upon top of the crate, along with the letters. Even after letting go, he quickly went back and adjusted the bear, making sure there wasn't any chance that it'd fall off while he handled the forms. Still, he couldn't help but keep glancing up at the bear while trying to look at the forms on the offered clipboard.

Being unfamiliar with the forms, he started trying to read them, before deciding that he probably wouldn't get in too much trouble if he just signed them. After all, the role of the mail-pony was a sacred duty, and nobody with a badge on their hat would abuse their position. Taking the pen in one hand, he signed his name on the various forms, in the various boxes, where he thought his name should go. And, for good measure, where it looked like it'd fit on the bottom of each form.

Then he tried to cross out the ones on the bottom, as it was likely one of those forms that you're not supposed to write on unless it's in a certain area. By the time Quill was finished "signing" the forms, they were in a bit of a state. Still, there'd be no doubt that somebody called Quill had signed for these things.

"There you go," Quill held the pen and clip-board up to the mare, "forms signed! And thanks again, I was a bit worried Bearington and the, um, hoard were, well, I wasn't sure I could afford to take the trip all the way up to Manehatten, and I didn't think it'd be right to ask for time off to take the trip on my first day of work, and.. um, thanks!"

For what it was worth, the postal servant had a very good sense of humor and kept her patience as Quill very much overdid it on the signatures.  She was going to have to refill her pen sooner than she expected now.  The mare took back the marked up clipboard and stowed it into her wagon along with the rest of her deliveries.

"Glad to be of service, sir.  I hope you have a great day~!" she tipped her hat thoughtfully to the young dragon and hitched herself up to her wagon.  With a quick turn in place she trotted off, soon leaving Quill once more alone.  Well... not totally alone.  Now he had Bearington back, after all.

"Take care, mail-pony," Quill waved goodbye to the departing pony, calling out as he did so. After a little bit more waving (as he didn't want to seem impolite, what if she turned around and saw that he wasn't waving still?), Quill turned to look at the crate and the toy bear on top of it.

"Best get this all inside," the dragon gave the crate a gentle nudge, gauging it's weight and deciding that it would probably be easiest to simply push the box in through the front door. After a bit of heaving, and some slightly disturbing rattling noises from inside the box, it was inside the workshop, along with it's passengers (the stuffed toy and the pile of letters).

Then it was the turn of the suitcase. Fortunately, the handle on the side of the luggage made it far easier to drag along and, judging by the scuff marks on the bottom and corners of it, this was Quill's preferred method of getting it around. With the work-related tasks sort of done (barring sorting through the box, sorting through the mail, tidying his suitcase away and pretty much every other work related job), he went over to the box and lifted up Bearington with both hands before drawing him for a hug tight enough to almost burst one of his seams. After a long embrace and a few sniffling tears, Quill regained his composure and looked around the workshop, trying to spot somewhere safe to put the bear before continuing his work.

With Bearington sat on the bottom step of the staircase, along with his suitcase - trying to drag that up the stairs was a job that could wait - Quill got back to work, sorting through the letters. Since none of them were addressed to him, it didn't seem right to open them, so they couldn't be sorted by their contents, which left them being sorted in a pile by size (biggest at the bottom, smallest at the top) followed by how neat the handwriting was on the envelope (neatest above scruffiest).

"Tik-Tok-bird," Quill called out, realising that he'd not seen the bird recently, "I'm going to get some food for us, let me know if any other customers turn up, and, um, watch out for the letters on the floor there!" After rescuing Bearington from his perch upon the bottom step of the staircase, the pair of them went out back to the kitchen, the bear tucked underneath one of Quill's arms.

Following his brief snack break (consisting of a slice of a bread, an accidental sneeze and then a round of toast), Quill went back to work, although the stuffed toy remained tucked under one arm. With a stomach full of food, he didn't feel like doing any of the more manual jobs that needed doing, and instead decided to take the time to check Widget's book-keeping. Fortunately, Tik-Tok managed to direct the dragon without too much trouble to a neatly bound book when questioned, though the hunt for a pencil took slightly longer.

Finally, with the correct equipment assembled, Quill opened the book and began flicking through the pages. Most of it was empty. Worse, it looked like the last entry was...

"Oh dear," Quill frowned at Bearington, shaking his head back and forth slowly, "oh dear, Bearington, there's nothi- oh, look, there's an order for two hundred and eighteen lug nuts."

Down one side of the page, Quill began scribbling down a series of numbers, taking great care with every movement of the pencil. 218, 821, 128, 693, 963, 369, 594, 954, 459, 495, with the last number circled a few times for good measure. Quill went through the ledger, picking a few more numbers at random, and continued the process - scribbling down numbers down one side and, eventually, ending up at the number four hundred and ninety five. Just thinking about the number was beginning to give him a headache.

"Maybe I should just stick to tidying up this afternoon," Quill stood up, leaving the open ledger on the floor, before going back to sorting out the box full of cardboard tubes, leaving Bearington sat next to the ledger.