My Little Pony: Of Misadventures and Fantastic Machines

Chapter 1: Steampunk Ponies

In the vaguest sense it seems stupid that my greatest fear is of a block of granite.

Yet if you knew by experience the terror a smoothly cut block of rock could instill in a convict then you would understand the fear Bear had. One of the guards on either side of him shoved him forward into the morning light. After such a long night in the dungeon Celestia’s light stung his eyes and gave him no warmth. He stepped forward into the plaza with the guards and the crowd cheered on for his head. Head hung low he only briefly looked up to see the familiar sight of the executioner preparing his mode of death. The granite block lay as it always had been, its sickly black stain shined in the light like a miasma of misfortune and misdeeds.

So this is how it ends again, he thought, hello dear friend, I am back to lay my head across you again. To think this is how it ends, upon a raised wooden platform amid the cheers of an ignorant crowd who knew nothing about me except that I would be this evening’s one final entertainment. They’re no better than me, and I’m no better than them.

He took the first step up the wooden steps that led up to the platform and the crowd seemed to die away when he looked the executioner in the eyes. It was a tan colored pony with a tail of deep blue but it was the eyes that caught Bear’s soul in its gaze. Steel colored they looked at him from beyond the black hooded mask that covered any features the pony might have had. The look the pony gave Bear held no pity nor did it carry with him any malice. If anything it was a look of annoyance, as if the pony was saying ‘how dare you make me get up this morning to see you die, I have better things to do than see to your funeral.’ Well, if looks could speak he thought with a sigh.

Bear stopped before the rock, merely looking down upon it for the fourth time in his life. He knew the routine to come, a hoof would be placed upon his back and kept there to ensure he didn’t run, like there was anywhere to turn to. Next they would tell him to turn his head to the crowd, away from the executioner as he sharpened his blade. Perhaps it was out of mercy so as to not see his own death approach or perhaps it was for the pleasure of the crowd to see his expression as he laid there upon the cool granite.

No help for me this time, like I deserve to be helped. He closed his eyes and the crowd’s cheers died away and all he could hear was the sound of his ragged breathing, the pounding of his heart, and the pony who grinded the headsman’s axe upon the grinder. His sweat dripped upon the granite and it seemed like he could actually taste the miasmic black stain where ponies who have committed heinous crimes found themselves before their death. It tasted of iron, it tasted of blood, and it instilled in him a silent terror that he had thought to flee.

The grinding stopped and Bear’s imagination filled in the blanks. He could hear hooves hit the platform, they approached him at the pace of his own heart rate. The hooves stopped, he could hear the breathing of the executioner over his own as that tan pony breathed through the hooded mask. There was the sound of scraping as the axe was lifted from the ground. Time to die I guess. An eternity seemed to pass waiting for his end. Would it be over quick or would the pony mess up and only nick his mark? What was taking so long? Get it over with already! He imagined the axe being brought down.

“Wait!” a voice cried out.

Bear’s eyes snapped open and looked upon the stunned crowd. He knew that voice and he knew why they were here but that wouldn’t change his end.

By Celestia please don’t let my friends see my end like this….

The work horse hefted with all his might to pull the great log out of the river. Twice as large as himself yet he dragged it up the hill alone. He strained against the leather harness as the log dug into the ground to refuse every inch that was given but the Cobalt colored Earth Pony persisted. His dark brown mane was flattened with sweat from the exertion but somehow he persisted up the steep hill with the massive log in tow.

Never be weak, a voice said in his head.

He finally reached the top of the hill and breathed a sigh of relief. Other work ponies pushed it carefully down the rock inclined hilled down to the lumber yard below with the other logs that had been pulled that day. Lying upon the ground Bear took a moment’s respite, he looked up finally at the approach of an old white pony.

“Fine work, meh boy! Fine work indeed!” the pony said with his thick accent. “I thought the ‘hole weeks’ worth of work be over when the pulley broke. You’d be livin’ up to that there cutie mark yer famous for.”

“Phew,” the cobalt pony said. Standing up he offered the elder a smile, “Thanks Mr. Dawn. Though you know I rather it be ‘special talent’, 'taint much of any cutie mark really. Though I’mma thinkin’ you’re pulling my leg here callin' it that.”  He turned to look at his flank and had to admit there was little to it to call it cute. It was a simple mark, that of a Bear’s pawmark tinted a brown tinted black. As his father had put it, it symbolized ‘just being strong’. A bland and vague talent when it was put that way but to Bear it entailed a strength and will to help people. That was in essence his special talent, helping everypony and in this case it was doing his job by helping out old Forest Dawn in a predicament.

The old stallion laughed heartily, “Aye lad, I do be messing with you some but I can’t thank you enough for the dedication you put on the mill and… well bloody well everything. You shouldn’t be pushin’ yourself too hard now though my boy, don’t need you pulling your back out or hurtin’ yourself. Strong young lad as yourself can’t afford to be feeling the aches and pains before his time. Tell you what, how’s about you come by and have lunch with me and missus and take a breather for a while?”

“You’ve been good to me Mr. Dawn and I ‘preciate the offer but I need to be off. Arty’s got this big idea he has and knowin’ him I should be there in case… well when it goes wrong.” Bear said.

“Ah that ole fool up to causin’ trouble again. Well’en be off with you then and give my regards to the lead for brains.” Mr. Dawn said happily.

“You know it, Mr. Dawn. See you tomorrow bright an early!” Bear called out, heading in the direction of the great city that lay upon the forest’s horizon.

Bronze Galloptry was once known just as Galloptry, a little city just a ways off from Trottingham and a week’s journey from Canterlot. Now though it was a thriving metropolitan that nearly rivaled Manehatten in size and people. What made Galloptry stand out though were its great bronze and clockwork architecture. Its seven great clock towers made it so Galloptry could be seen for miles and the cloud of steam that the city’s industry put off could be seen for even farther as massive fluffy white clouds. The entire city was made of bronze and ran on steam, a marvel for any visitor but everyday life for the elite and intellectual Galloptrians.

Bronze Galloptry as it is now called was Equestria’s city of invention and industry. Great factories powered by massive steam generators made just about anything a pony could want or need. It’s Zeppelins were famed works of ingenious designs and many a train’s part could trace their origins to one of the city’s great industrial conglomerates that shared the city’s resources and control of the massive factories of the city.

Change happened fast in this city yet it seemed like the more things change, the more it stayed the same. For one young Pegasus the monotony of this place was unbearable. Sure there was always something interesting happening and some great invention was being presented somewhere for all to see but it was always so predictable, nearly always it ran on steam and there was always a good chance it was made out of bronze like everything else in this dull city. The people too were utterly boring and elitist as well, there was always some strife or another with them, some stepped on toes or worker’s disputes or, Celestia forbid, a patent disagreement.

Arty hated those the most, patent disagreements. Boring research on a boring subject with the inevitable verdict of everyone going home disappointed, yet it was the Pegasus with the laughing silver mask cutie mark’s job and talent. Such was life for a lawyer pony the steel grey maned pony thought. His freckled nose moved slightly as he frowned and yawned at the same time. Standing up from his seat at the prosecutor's table he went around the wood table to the pony that now sat upon the witness' stand.

“Now then Mr. Mortimer, my client who has worked for you for nearly a decade is suing you for stealing his patented idea for a steam powered sewing machine. I already know my client’s story but let the court hear yours.” The young deep dark blue pony spoke deliberately and loudly for the assembled judge, jury, and observers. To them it was the most fascinating thing to see who wins in a disagreement so miniscule and common place it might as well be making the everyday decision of whether to drink apple or orange juice in the morning. Weird he was the one prosecuting and he was the only one that was utterly bored.

Mr. Mortimer, owner of seven factories that specialized in the making of kitchen ware such as pots and pans, ruffled at his overly large grey moustache. Glaring through his monocle to the scraggily looking worker slinking in his seat he spoke, “Well I’m glad someone here asked. Now I’m a simple business man…” Who takes pleasure in his work and getting to know each and every one of my worker ponies Arty thought with a role of his eyes. “Who takes pleasure in his work and truly wants to get to know each and every one of his workers finds this all absurd that Mr. Rosebud would accuse me of such a thing after giving him his livelihood for all these years.  It is after all stated in his contract, that he signed I might add, that any patents he puts out under our employ would become jointly owned by him and the company. It is a fair system where both the worker and the company profit and the worker gets to spread his creative wings. ”

“I see,” Arty said with a slow nod, “the thing is though I looked up the public records of Galloptry and Mr. Rosebud had quit his job well in advance before filing for his patent. What was also interesting I found was that while waiting for his patent to be filed you swooped in with a very similar design and speed it through records to be patented just before my client’s was. Now before you explain yourself Mr. Mortimer I have a transcript that I want you to read, the transcript being part of a conversation you had with Mr. Rosebud over all this. I’d like for you to read the second line that you stated to my client when he asked you to repeal the patent for his sake.”

The color in Mr. Mortimer’s face drained when he saw the paper, “now sir! This is entirely inappropriate as these words would-“

“Mr. Mortimer please just read the words so we can move on.”

“I am not about-“

“You are compelled to, sir, to read this to the jury and the rest of this court as it is evidence that pertains to this case.”

Mr. Mortimer sighed and read slowly from the paper, “I’m…. a little teapot, short and stout… here is my handle and here is my spout. But please just let me explain what-“

“Thank you Mr. Mortimer that will be all.” Arty said bluntly though let out snickered afterwards.

The judge buried his face in his hooves as the court’s attendees looked at each other in utter confusion, “Mr. Felix-“

“You know I prefer Artivius your honor. Or Arty for you if you’d like-“

“Mr. Artivius, please tell me you had a point to that besides embarrassing Mr. Mortimer and making a mockery of my courtroom again.”

“Don’t worry sir, I swear I’ve got a point to all of this.” Turning from the Judge Art walked over to the Jury box. Taking a moment to brush of some dust upon his pin strike black vest he spoke, “now then gentle colts and foals of the jury, please take a moment to truly consider those words that Mr. Mortimer said."

“I,” he exclaimed loudly, startling some of the jury, “am a little teapot.” He then ducked below the Jury box causing them to lean forward to see what he was doing. “Short. And stout!” He jumped up again and raised his hoof, “here!” he placed this hoof at his hip, “is my handle. And this!” he raised his other hoof, “is my stout.  Now I’m sure you’re all wondering the context of what this all means and really I do not think it matters. What matters is that this statement alludes to a previous crime that the defendant committed before my own client's case.”

The court room seemed to get noticeably quieter as the assembled ponies leaned in to hear what this confusing pony meant by this. Turning around Arty walked to his table and took a folder into his mouth. Handing it to the judge he then looked intensely at Mr. Mortimer, “I have with me another record from the patent office about an insulated tea pot that you presented to the Inventors Assemblage at their regular meeting. Not unusual in itself but you failed to fully patent your ‘creation’ a full two weeks after the assemblage, which is unheard of considering how cutthroat those other inventors can be when it comes to patents. Most just shrugged it off but I know why you waited so long.The reason why you stalled was because at the time you were having a legal battle very similar to this with an employee of yours by the name of Daisy Basil who had been in the process of patenting her own insulated teapot.

“What sadly Miss Daisy didn’t know was that her patent was being stalled by a crooked patent worker who had been taking money from you Mr. Mortimer.” By now the courtroom was whispering with one another but Arty pressed on, “you see I have a record of the whole transaction in which where you gave money to the patent worker in charge of filing through Miss Daisy’s teapot, playing it off as a concerned boss hoping to help his beloved worker through the arduous system of public records, while you stole the design to sell for yourself. You knew about her design because she worked for you and as such she filed with the company that she was opening her own patent and was setting the terms to its ownership. She never got the chance though because you took her design and made it your own! You presented the teapot design as your own at the assemblage and using bribery filed it faster than Miss Daisy. In that folder as well is a patent investigator’s testimony over the dismissal of your corrupt friend in the patent office as well as evidence of how you’re taking control of Mr. Rosebud’s invention!”

The entire court room seemed to burst into commotion as Mr. Mortimer tried to disappear in the witness stand. The Judge too seemed surprised. Arty went back to his table and closed his brief case.

“Your honor I think we’re done here, can you hit the gabble and let us go 'cause I badly need to find the little colt’s room before-“

“Please Mr. Artivius! Fine then, court is adjourned while I go over these files some more- Mr. Mortimer you are in some deep trouble even just briefly looking through these papers.” The defending lawyer was befuddled over what had just happened and was quickly searching through his copy of the evidence in hopes of countering Arty’s move. Luckily, the smart Lawyer pony he was, Arty had made it seem like the transactions were unimportant as well as the patent investigator’s testimony. This was done.

Shaking Rosebud’s hoof Arty bounced his way out of the chaotic court room with his briefcase in mouth. “Arty! There you are!” Bear called out to his friend from where he stood beyond the crowd.  Arty turned to the voice and grinned widely, causing the briefcase to fall out of his mouth, “ah there you are Bear!”

“You get done with court already? How’d it go?”

“Boring, same as always. Not important anyway! What is important is I have this new idea!”

“Yeah we sort of went over this already. Let’s grab some lunch first and you can tell me your plans to further try an' conquer the world.”

“I am doing nothing of the sorts! Besides this time I swear it is all entirely safe.”

“You said that about squirrel powered generators and I’m still terrified of those little rodents thanks to you.” Bear said this as he absently rubbed at his right ear where the tip of his ear was missing.

“I probably shouldn’t of force fed them coffee, not my best idea but this one is different and involves no animals or forcing them to take caffeine.”

The two friends left the courtroom and walked through the clockwork city of Galloptry towards First Tower plaza. The largest plaza in the city many shops were built near the great clock tower and it was considered one of the busiest places as it was a crossroads between the main upper residential part of the city, the lower factory districts, and finally the awful ‘Sweatworks’ where the massive steam generators  worked their magic.

“Oh great,” Bear muttered as he saw a trio of other colts head in their direction. He recognized them as old ‘friends’ of his from his time working at the Steamworks. Nopony ever wants to work the sweatworks, it was dangerous and with little pay. Most were young colts who couldn’t find work anywhere else and were forced to work the steam pipes and salvage yards of the works- collectively they were called Steampunk ponies since all of them wore the heavy baggy jumpsuits and metal helmets they wore while they work the dangerous conditions. The three ponies stopped in front of the pair, their leader smirked and sneered, “well pals! Where ya headed? You still hanging out with the idiot savant then Bear?”

Before Bear could answer Arty bounced forward, He spoke happily and without malice, “Good evening gents! Just off to get a bite to eat is all. I was thinking I was in the mood for something that was too expensive for steampunk ponies, but then I realized that covers everything above gruel.” The three ponies practically glared daggers at the joyful Arty who seemed oblivious to his own insult. Bear nervously laughed, “Uh good one Arty. Gents really we don’t want to cause trouble or step on any toes here.”

“Well that’s easy Bear, they’ve got no toes. I don’t think they have spines either but that’d be mean to-“

“That would be mean and entirely untrue! Arty for the love of Celestia and Luna stop making things worse.” Bear muttered to his friend. The steampunk pony grumbled at Arty and turned to Bear, “I don’t see how you can be near this freak and his stupid ideas. Been hearing you’ve been working at the lumber yard too. That true?”

“Yeah, Mr. Dawn was kind enough to give a job. I could talk to him if you want- see if I could get you some work there too.” Bear said trying his best to ignore the fact this pony just blatantly insulted his best friend.

“I’d… appreciate it Bear… we need to get goin’. Later.” With that the three of them stepped by the pair. Arty frowned and looked up to Bear, “can’t believe you used to be friends with those guys. I heard they tried to rob a bakery yesterday. I mean seriously who robs a bakery?”

“Desperate ponies. I want to be angry with them for nearly hurting somepony but I can’t seem to be, things get desperate down the works. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand? Oh it entirely isn't like I've been starved before.”

“Sorry, I forgot about that.”

“Well at least I didn’t go and try to hurt someone for a loaf of bread.”

Thinking it was best to change the subject now Bear continued his pace, “anyway what’s this idea of yours you can’t shut up about?”

Arty followed in step though walked backwards to look at Bear instead of where he was going, “I’m glad you ask. Alright brace yourself for this for the sheer genius of my mind might strike you blind! I have an idea. What would you say about a pony, any pony and not just pegasi like me, who can fly without the use of balloons or zeppelins or anything like that?”

“I’d say that you’re asking for trouble. Besides why should you care- you can fly anyway… even though you don’t actually fly anywhere.”

“Well duh, it isn’t fair for me to flaunt my flying abilities and leave you hanging my brother, my numero dos, my sidekick, my-“

“Okay I get it, and why am I the sidekick? You’re smaller than me and younger than me.”

“Well I have the smarts and looks while you’re the muscle so obviously I’m not the sidekick. That’s not the point though,the point is I can’t test out my invention since I can fly. So….”

“By the works no. I am not about to get into anything that flies that you made.”

“Oh come on, I swear its safe! I’ve even already tested it out!”

“With who?”

“A straw dummy. Honestly it didn’t go so well after it went by a chimney. but I think it’ll work much better with someone who can work the machine. Come on! Help me out this time, I would not put you in danger if I wasn’t positive that it was safe! Pleeeeaaa- Oh Celestia!” The Pegasus toppled over, running into a pile of crates. Bear made no move to help the struggling Pegasus attempting to escape the pile of toppled over crates.

Finally the big colt sighed and shook his head, “alright fine you big ijit I’ll do it but no bottomless ravines or any huge heights.” Arty poked his head out from the pile of crates, “Wait seriously? Ah you won’t regret this mate! You’ll be flying like a bird in no time with the help of my new creation. Like some giant grey crane with hooves and a face like an ugly duckling!”

“Shut up you git, let’s just go see this machine of yours. I’m not all that hungry now that I might be flying or falling.”

“Aye, Sky Captain!” Arty exclaimed as he flew out of the pile of crates onto clear ground. Bear chuckled at his friend’s antics. Taking a moment to kick the crates back into place he followed his friend out of the plaza and away from the smell of foods. He honestly wasn’t too surprised that he got talked into this so easy, really he was just saving the time by going ahead and agreeing instead of being convinced by Arty. The Work Horse always seemed to go with whatever idiot idea Arty got into his head and Arty was always able to convince people to follow his way. Arty, despite his best attempts to hide it, was actually an amazing lawyer pony and his special talent was in getting ponies to see things his way or get them to see things his way, in other words the fool’s talent was a silver tongue. Despite seemingly like a trait to be abused he had fun with it by being light hearted and random, lightening the mood of anypony he meets as well as confusing them utterly. Come to think of it Bear had never actually heard the young colt ever change a pony’s opinion into something it wasn’t. He really was a strange little pony, but then again Bear wasn’t all that normal either so he guessed they just made a pair of idiots together.

A few minutes later Arty led Bear to the top of the First Tower where his machine stood precariously near the ledge. “Well here it is! My Greatest Creation!” Arty declared, hovering over the machine and gesturing it.

“There is no bloody way I’m getting anywhere near that death trap.”

“It’s the lightning bolt sticker isn’t it? Too much?”