Hola, Prominence

Hola, Mis Amigo!

Victor tapped his foot impatiently, it has been an hour what was taking them so long, the engine they were bringing couldn't have been that slow. Then the door opened.

"Victor, Victor come with us please." The foreman asked, well more ordered in a less angry than the normal way. Victor stood from his half sit against the wall and straightened out his nice uniform. Victor followed his foreman, the sounds of yelling rang out through the works, echoing in the lofts and undiluted by the normal clatter of the works, Sunday was always an eerie day in the large building. Victor's mind floated back to the yells as he neared the culprit, his view was blocked but a distinct voice scwalled in thick languages, almost British, but definitely not at all, oddly pitched, a bit high, but not squeaking.

"Ich hasse dich!" Was repeated over and over, a few "Fix eini!" and "Du kannst mir nichts vormachen." thrown in for good measure. Victor saw his controller near where the noise emanated, standing with his same tired and worn expression he normally held on odd days at the works. He was never awake on Sundays, but today he looked two steps from the grave.

"Sir, what-" As Victor started to ask what was wrong, Topham turned, and stepped aside, Victor now saw a sight. A smaller masc, with sandy matted hair and old tattered clothes, was under an open crate, hiding under it, yelling and near tears. Victor gulped and took a few steps past his Controller to this unknown masc.

"Du... sprechen... English?" Victor asked, trying to remember the little bit of German he had gotten from the various engines and humans he had fixed and met over his years.

The masc looked at Victor, going quietly.

"Approbiert? Dampflokomotive oder Diesellokomotive? E-Lok?" The masc asked Victor took a complete blank.

"Z-Zug," Victor replied, hoping that was an answer, a simple engine was all he was.

"Engine?" The masc finally replied in English, Victor took a breath.

"Yes, Engines, at this works, engine repairs," Victor said, hoping to get through. The masc sat up, tossing aside their hiding crate.

"Works engine...." the masc said, he gestured at himself.

"I am Works Engine, need help?" Victor asked, the masc looked at him, then nodded faintly.

"Intake, running out of, inside." the masc said, he hit a hand to their chest.

"Water? Food?" Victor leaned down in front of the Masc and offered a hand to help them stand.

"All." the masc said, with Victor's help, they stood, shaky on their knees they leaned onto Victor. Even with the masc being small for a masc, they were bigger than Victor, but not by much.

"Come, we shall fix you up, mis amigo," Victor said, he cursed to himself a little for the Spanish but helped the masc along, the masc looked at him, and while not as sad any more they didn't look happy at all.

Topham and the Foreman followed Victor and the masc, Victor lead the masc into the break room of the works. Victor put the masc in a chair at a small table, and he went to the fridge.

"Oh, so you are who takes lunches." The foreman said with thick contempt.

"If someone leaves a lunch over the weekend they deserve it eaten," Victor stated coldly, he opened a brown bag and pulled out an apple. He tossed it to the masc. Victor went to catch the apple again as he forgot this was deprived engine who probably had no reflexes any ways, but the masc caught it without blinking with toned reflex. Victor was impressed but forged on for more substance.

The masc took a gentle, well as gentle as you could, bite of the apple. The masc squeaked as they tasted the apple. Victor sprinted suddenly to the side of the masc. The masc wiped some dribblings from the apple off his face, he smiled and giggled tasting the sweet apple. Victor relaxed a small bit and patted the masc on the top of their head.