Keeping Cool [RGRE]


                                            >You are Twinkleshine and you are regretting moving to Manehattan.

                                            >Nopony you know plays Bestiary Battler, the local game shop is in the attic of an incense store, and some blue goo just dripped onto your couch.

                                            >You look up and see part of the ceiling of your apartment bulging out like a teat, a drop of goo gathering at the bottom.

                                            >Bucking perfect.

                                            >You fetch the mop bucket and place it under the drip.

                                            >You look up and frown at the ceiling teat.

                                            >It'll probably hold for a bit.

                                            >You march out the door, determined to give your upstairs neighbor the /business/.

                                            >It feels like stepping out into an oven, the summer sun beating down mercilessly.

                                            >You sigh and trudge up the stairs, panting a little as you get to the top.

                                            >Maybe you should go for a jog more often...or at all.

                                            >You knock on the door and step back, hoping it's not another "gifted" student performing an unregistered summoning.

                                            >The door opens with a blast of refreshingly cold air.

                                            >"Yes?"

                                            >You look up at the source of that pleasantly deep sound.

                                            >It's an oddly flat-faced minotaur bull, with a coat so thin that you can see his pale skin easily.

                                            >You swallow nervously.

                                            "Well, sir, I think you might have a leak that's dripping into my apartment."

                                            >He raises his eyebrows.

                                            >"Oh? Well, come in, let's not let all the cold air out."

                                            >You nod and trot inside, trying not to huff the male scent that gently pervades the apartment.

                                            >As the door closes behind you, it occurs to you that this place is as cold as a griffin's meat locker.

                                            >You're fine, as a mountain-bred unicorn, but you can't imagine your host is, considering the thinness of his coat.

                                            >You step into the living room and pause at the sight of an industrial cooling engine you recognize from visiting an ice cream factory.

                                            >The bull chuckles as he walks past you.

                                            >"It's a little excessive, I know, but I like staying cool. Now, about where is the leak coming through?"

                                            >You trot to join him as he sidles behind the tubes of the cooling engine.

                                            >It's a little odd that his upper body is so unusual, yet his legs are normal, foal-chasing, delicious-

                                            >Focus, Twinkleshine.

                                            "Closer to the corner, if I recall correctly."

                                            >He stops and you find your directions are unnecessary.

                                            >One of the coolant tubes is poorly sealed to the port on the main body of the engine, a slow trickle of goop running down the side and pooling on the floor.

                                            >The bull sighs at the sight, running his slender hand through his short-cropped mane.

                                            >"I'm going to need a mechanic to fix this, aren't I?"

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "No need, let me get it."

                                            >He turns to you, a frown of confusion on his face.

                                            >You decide to show off a little.

                                            >You use your magic to unscrew the ring cap from around the tube.

                                            >It pops off with a metallic "ping" as the tension of being screwed on poorly is released.

                                            >Meanwhile, your telekinesis holds the coolant in as you reinsert the tube mouth onto the port.

                                            >Then it's merely a matter of screwing the ring cap back on and basking in a bull's gratitude.

                                            >He laughs in delight.

                                            >"Well, that is a lot cheaper than what I had in mind. Thank you- uh, I don't think I got your name."

                                            >You back up as he climbs out from behind the cooling engine.

                                            "I'm Twinkleshine, nice to meet you."

                                            >He reaches out and shakes your hoof, his hand pleasantly cool.

                                            >"Anon and likewise. I should really clean the puddle before it dries, and you probably have your half in the ceiling too. How about once we're done, I cook us some dinner to make up for the mess and we can get to know each other properly?"

                                            >Cool air, stallion-cooked food, and charming company?

                                            >You beam at Anon.

                                            "I'd love that."

                                            >Summer in Manehattan might not be as bad as you were expecting.


                                            >As you get to talking, you find out that he came from the northern lakes of Labyrinthia.

                                            >You still can't believe cows still dive into the ice-cold lake water as a test of courage and fortitude before their winter wrap-up.

                                            >Sure, it impresses the bulls and shows off hard nips on the cows' teats, but every year a hoofful of them die under the ice.

                                            >The conversation shifts towards your specialty.

                                            >He's suitably impressed with your degree in thaumaturgical engineering, as well as the complexity of the manaform of the train engine you designed.

                                            >After a refreshing cucumber and spinach salad with a salty and creamy dressing, you sprawl on his couch as he practically melts into a beanbag chair.

                                            >You can't help but wonder if part of the reason he likes it this cool in his home is to see your nips harden.

                                            >The rush of arousal at the thought keeps you nice and warm as you chat with him.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            "That really hit the spot. I really liked the ranch dressing, could you tell me the recipe?"

                                            >He crosses his arms under his chin and smirks at you.

                                            >"It's just store bought with a secret ingredient added."

                                            >You raise an eyebrow at him.

                                            "Oh? What is it?"

                                            >He snorts.

                                            >"It wouldn't be a secret if I told you."

                                            >You give him a teasing smile.

                                            "In that case, I'll have to keep coming to dinner until I figure it out."

                                            >He winks.

                                            >"You're welcome to try."


                                            >For the next month or so, you come by every evening to eat dinner and chat with your charming upstairs neighbor.

                                            >After Imposing on him like that, you offer to pick up some of the grocery shopping and he is happy to accept.

                                            >You also get some ranch dressing of your own to experiment with.

                                            >You don't try too hard to replicate the recipe, but it's a fun little hobby to mess with while your bestiary battler cards gather dust.

                                            >You even bring Anon some of your odd successes to try, like mixing in pickle brine.

                                            >Meanwhile, Anon somehow got his hands on a genuine Cloudsdale thermal sink.

                                            >The thing's horribly complicated, with parts that took months to arrive, but he's deliriously happy about getting it running.

                                            >You can't blame him, it's barely the size of a beach ball, fits into the light crystal socket, and has a tube running to the oven to save on both heating and cooling energy.

                                            >He sold off his old cooling unit, freeing up an entire third of the living room.


                                            >Though you have to work with the landlady to levitate that monster out of the apartment building.

                                            >All Aboard used to work in a dry dock before a bad cargo fall chipped her horn, and she retired to property management.

                                            >If you are being honest, she intimidates you.

                                            >The grizzled gray mare has a horn as girthy as a stallion's... if a few span shorter.

                                            >Her magic is supporting most of the weight of the cooling unit as you maneuver it around the door, railing, and stairs.

                                            >Even with the lighter burden, you are panting and sweating by the time the two of you get it out onto the corner for the buyer to pick up.

                                            >Aboard slaps your withers and chuckles.

                                            >"A good workout, right Twink?"

                                            >You laugh tiredly.

                                            "And then some. The last time I worked my magic this hard, I was defending my master's thesis."

                                            >She nods, quiet for a moment.

                                            >"Listen..."

                                            >You look at her wry face.

                                            >"I really appreciate you being there for him. He's been isolating himself for a long time, and it warms my heart to see a good, honest mare like you looking out for him."

                                            >You blush at the praise.

                                            "It's nothing, if anything he's helping me out and keeping me company just as much. And well... the scenery isn't bad."

                                            >The landlady guffaws.

                                            >"Honest, I like that! I'd have made a move myself, if he weren't my tenant! Colt looks good, for all that he's my age."

                                            >You blink rapidly.

                                            "Your age? But he can't be more than twenty, right?"

                                            >All Aboard shrugs.

                                            >"Snub-faced bulls look young for decades. He looks much the same now as when he moved in a good twenty some odd years ago."

                                            >Your mind reels at the idea.

                                            >You always thought he was a little younger than you, he has the whimsy and flirtatious manner of a younger stallion.

                                            >Not that his age puts you off, really, it just comes as a shock.

                                            >Though part of you is a little disappointed at the smaller chance that you'd be his first time.

                                            >You ignore it as best you can, you'd still be incredibly lucky to have him.


                                            >The thermal sink works like a charm, and there doesn't seem to be any tainting of the flavor of cookies baked with the heat it strips from the air.

                                            >You're looking forward to basking in that frigid air while you trot back from the office.

                                            >The griffin client kept changing the specs for your airship engine prototype to fulfill.

                                            >It was frustrating, designing and redesigning, but you got it done, even if you don't really have the mana to teleport right now.

                                            >Then a strong tremor shook the ground, sending poorly secured windows shattering across the city.

                                            >You frown, glad nothing fell on you, and wait for the aftershocks.

                                            >But there was nothing for ten minutes as you shuffled along the street.

                                            >Looking at a crystal display, the news bulletin tells you why.

                                            >Apparently, the elements defeated some mole monster in Ponyville before it could shake the country apart.

                                            >You shake your head and start trotting faster towards home.

                                            >Anon should be okay, but he's a tall guy, so a fall would still be bad.


                                            >As you expected, none of the windows to his apartment broke, too firmly sealed to get rattled.

                                            >You knock on his door.

                                            >To your relief, you hear him moments later.

                                            >"Shine?"

                                            >You smile.

                                            "Hey Anon, you doing alright?"

                                            >His voice is muffled as he talks through the door.

                                            >"I'm fine, but the thermal sink fell. Luckily the heat was contained, but it isn't absorbing anymore."

                                            >You frown.

                                            "That's not great. I know it cost you more than a few bits, are you thinking of downgrading?"

                                            >Anon sighs.

                                            >"Not yet. I ordered the replacement parts, so it should be up and running again soon enough."

                                            >You nod.

                                            "That's good at least. Is it alright if I come in?"

                                            >Anon is oddly silent for a long moment.

                                            >"No...no, I don't want to let the cold air out, especially if I have a few months until I can cool it again."

                                            >You smile and shake your head at how passionate he is about staying as cool as possible.

                                            "I'm a unicorn, I could just teleport inside."

                                            >The response is immediate.

                                            >"No! No, that won't be necessary, besides, another body warming up the place..."

                                            >Your chest aches at that refusal.

                                            >You know you haven't asked him to be your coltfriend yet, but you thought you were closer than this.

                                            "Then I guess I'll talk to you later."

                                            >"Later, Shine. And thanks for checking on me."


                                            >As weeks turned into a month, you start to suspect there is a reason why Anon is currently single.

                                            >He has you teleporting groceries and mail into his apartment, but always refuses you going in yourself.

                                            >You'd feel more used than you are, if he wasn't still making dinner for the both of you, though you have to teleport it from a small table by the door.

                                            >And while you can still chat with him through the door, speaking loudly in the summer heat really isn't something you can do for as long as you like.

                                            >And then one day, you bring him bad news.

                                            >Today's mail came with a message from Cloudsdale Thaumaturgics.

                                            >The tessothermostat that was supposed to be shipped today was requisitioned by a nationalized factory due to a ball lightning accident.

                                            >You pop the mail in and call out.

                                            "Anon, looks like there was a delay on the parts. Want me to get you a cheap unit to tide you over until things work out?"

                                            >There is a long moment of silence, then he replies.

                                            >"Yes, that would be best. I'll leave the bits for it on the tray. Get the best you can find for the price. And thank you for doing this, I really can't imagine going out in the heat like this."

                                            >You shake your head ruefully as you collect the bag of bits with a pop of spatial dislocation.

                                            >Who knew northern bulls would be so sensitive to temperature?

                                            >Though maybe he has some compulsion about not getting sweaty.

                                            >That... might complicate things later, but it's a bridge you'll cross when you come to it.

                                            "You're welcome Anon. I'll be back as soon as I can."


                                            >Lugging back the Winter Wind 2000 has you sweating your teats off, foamy sweat slopping off onto the street.

                                            >It's not as big as the cooler before the thermal sink, but it's still pretty heavy.

                                            >Not to mention you need to save as much mana as possible to teleport it inside.

                                            >You levitate it up to Anon's door.

                                            >You get there a few minutes later, taking the time to catch your breath and discard the foamy sweat clinging to your coat.

                                            >Finally, you knock on the door.

                                            "Anon, ready for the new unit?"

                                            >Silence.

                                            >You knock louder and a little longer.

                                            "Anon?"

                                            >You are starting to get worried.

                                            >You pound on the door.

                                            >Still no answer.

                                            >All Aboard teleports nearby with a bang.

                                            >Celestia, but that mare has a lot of mana.

                                            >She scowls, but when she sees you, her look softens.

                                            >"What's going on?"

                                            >You frown.

                                            "Anon asked me to get this for him less than an hour ago, but he's not answering. I'm going to teleport in, I think something's wrong."

                                            >The landlady nods, her horn flaring with purple light.

                                            >With loud crack, the two of you appear in Anon's living room, the carpet wet and cool.

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "Did the silly bull just spill water everywhere to get cool?"

                                            >All Aboard doesn't comment, merely stalking into the hall and calling out, "Anon!"

                                            >You follow her, checking the laundry room and the kitchen.

                                            >The gray mare announces, "He's not in his bedroom."

                                            >You get a sinking feeling as you go to the last place he could be.

                                            >You crack open the door to the bathroom.

                                            "Anon, are you there?"

                                            >No answer.

                                            >You nudge it open and step inside, All Aboard close behind.

                                            >No blood on the sink or anything, so him taking a bad fall isn't likely.

                                            >You tug the shower curtain to the side and freeze.

                                            >Anon smiles sheepishly at you from the tub, water lapping at his now blue skin, his fishlike tail curled up to fit in the tub.

                                            >All Aboard stares at him in bewilderment.

                                            >"What in Tartarus?"

                                            >You smile down at him, your heart beating like mad.

                                            >You always wanted a monsterhusbando.

                                            "Anon is a Silky, a cold-weather shape shifter, which drag off unsuspecting cows and mares to watery graves."

                                            >Anon shakes his head.

                                            >"It's a misunderstanding. We actually have a long tradition of wife-stealing."

                                            >All Aboard frowns and looks to you.

                                            >"Should we call the guard, or what?"

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "Hey Aboard, did you know that in terms of mare and monstercolt breeding, silkies are the most compatible monster for ponies?"