cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT finale)
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
<Berrybot> Some stupid bullshit
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
The Brony Fandom
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Dead Pony
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
BartonFink wrote:Thanks ants. Thants.
hey fuck you buddy-
BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
60 minutes water break
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agradify
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Stuff wrote:15 min til die
:twistsay:
edit thx helix ill look it u
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Helix
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Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
"...We are not primitive tribals, striking our hooves against stone, hoping to create fire. We are building a better tomorrow for our children. And our children's children.
"We build it through the sweat and blood we spill to restore the foundations of industry to our great nation. Because without industry, there is no progress. And we are not content to allow another two hundred years to go by with ponykind reduced to scavengers!"
Red Eye's speech ended, his voice replaced by what sounded like carnival music.
Twilight was descending over Fillydelphia when we crested a small hill and I could glean where we were heading.
Nearly two-thirds of Fillydelphia had been cut off, sealed up from the ruins beyond by a great metal wall. The bulk of the industrial center, the amusement park whose roller coaster towered in the fading light, and Fillydelphia Crater itself all hid inside. Not only did towers just inside the wall harbor guardponies, but griffins patrolled the skies around. The glaring dirigibles above provided additional sniper cover.
The "secondary position" of the Steel Rangers was obvious: the largest and most defendable building still intact outside of the wall. The massive, gear-shaped emblem on the front of the building proclaimed what it had been even better than the crumbling, two-story letters that cut through it. The Steel Rangers had taken over the headquarters of Stable-Tec and converted it into a citadel.
Calamity flew casually past me to hover near SteelHooves.
"So, ya ain't an elder cuz ya chose not t' be?" he asked curiously. "Maybe we ain't so different after all."
I felt ice water run down my spine.
SteelHooves turned to Calamity, studying the rust-colored pegasus for a moment. "No. You flew towards your responsibilities in defiance of your own kind, heedless and ignorant of the consequences."
Calamity flapped backwards a bit, a frown forming across on his face.
SteelHooves continued. "I ran away from my responsibilities because I understood exactly what the consequences would be if I did not. I knew there were ponies who would follow my example, and I was not willing to risk a civil war amongst the Steel Rangers."
Turning away from Calamity, SteelHooves said firmly, "We are nothing alike."
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Tough Hide (level two) – The brutal experiences of the Equestrian Wasteland have hardened you. You gain +3 to Damage Threshold for each level of this perk you take.
Back to index
Dances of Light and Shadow by Kkat
"Mmm! I can smell the muffins baking now!"
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
Death.
The battlefield was strewn with bloody corpses under a charcoal-grey sky that heaved and threatened rain.
I was dying. Or, more precisely, my host was dying. And, trapped in his memory, I was along for the ride. Part of my mind remained coherent enough to wonder about that. I could feel the press of metal against my host's head, a helmet which could easily hold a recollector. Was I going to experience death?
The rest of my mind was overloaded by the pain that tore at my abdomen. My host had fallen against the wall of the trench, head propped up just enough to see that most of his body below the stomach was no longer as attached as it should be. I could see his intestines and internal organs spilling out onto the recently dug dirt. Mercifully, I couldn't feel that... my host had lost all feeling below the top of the wound.
He was already dead. He must have known it, but his body just hadn't gotten the message yet.
Who was I? I had assumed this was Applesnack's memory, since it came from one of the orbs in his memory case. But that seemed unlikely now. Between the armored barding and the blood, I couldn't be sure.
Several pegasi flew back and forth over the battlefield, searching, relaying messages or calling out names. For a moment, a familiar sky-blue mare with her shockingly brilliant rainbow mane and tail swooped over my trench. She hovered, looking about frantically. Her blood-stained purple suit looked nearly black in the light and her battle saddle was scorched. Her eyes fell on me and she winced. Then she was off again.
"Hey!" The large form of a particularly statuesque red stallion in similar military barding slid down into the trench next to me. His eyes went wide as he took in the morbid reality of my wounds.
"So... Sarge... we drive those striped bastards back?" I felt my muzzle move, and the words came out in a low, masculine voice.
I felt a drop of wetness hit our cheek. At first, I thought the other pony was crying. But then another raindrop fell out of the sky, and another, and another.
"Ayep," the red pony nodded, wisps of orange mane fell from under his helmet, caked a dark red by blood. He spoke slowly, "Ya did good, soldier. Mighty good. They'll make ya Sergeant after this." Rain was beginning to soak into his coat, washing caked blood out of it.
My host choked, coughing up blood. The taste was warm and coppery in our mouth. "Post mortem, I'm afraid, Sarge." My host's voice was eerily calm and even. He had minutes left to live, if that. And he seemed... at peace with it. "I'm afraid I won't be joining you when you go after all."
We felt cold. A chill deeper than that from the rain. I felt drops of rain kissing the seeringly painful wound. I was thankful I couldn't feel drops landing inside me.
"Don't talk," the big one said, looking deeply wounded. "Ah ain't ready t' let ya go, buck."
"Think the zebras had different to say." My god, my host actually chuckled. He was in utter agony... I hadn't felt pain like this since the dragon set me on fire; I was sure that my own body was screaming... and he just chuckled. Like it was nothing. "Don't worry, Sarge. We won the day, right? No regrets..."
The big red stallion looked like he was fighting tears. My host just grinned, his muzzle full of his own blood. "...Well, one regret. Never did get to meet that hot sister of yours."
The stallion frowned dangerously, and I suddenly realized that his mane was the same color as Applejack's coat. And they had similar freckles. Big Macintosh bristled, then burst into a gruff laugh. "Now ya got t' pull through," he grinned, "So's Ah c'n buck yer backside, boy!"
It was too late. Darkness was already creeping into the edges of my host's vision. The reaper pony had come to take him home. Wherever home was before Celestia and Luna were goddesses. My host tilted his head back, staring into the darkening sky, feeling the rain on his face for one last time...
A flock of pegasi soared in from overhead, two of them pulling a passenger wagon full of other ponies, mostly unicorns. All the newcomers wore barding of yellow and pink and carried saddleboxes with little butterflies on them, just like Velvet Remedy's. All except the lead pony. She didn't need the uniform... Fluttershy already was the uniform.
"um... oh.... Oh dear!" The shy pegasus pony looked out over the hills and trenches full of dead and dying. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to tremble. But she stomped a hoof down, and forced herself to find her voice. "Oh... okay. Everypony, everyone... please be calm. We're going to help."
Fluttershy turned and called out to her team, "Please, if you would, take your positions. And hurry. Thank you."
Seeping shadows had nearly engulfed my host's vision, and his other senses were fading fast. I was looking at the world from the bottom of a deep, dark well. Thankfully, the pain was at the top of the well, far away from us. We closed our eyes.
It was hard to open them again. Our eyelids were heavy, like they were made of gold. When we did, there wasn't much to see. Just clouds and rain. Barely visible. We were in a much deeper well.
Fluttershy's head moved between us and the clouds, looking strangely upside-down, cringing at the sight of my host. "Ooooh... Oh no." She dashed up to us. "I... we... I think we can help. Just, please, hold on!"
We strained to speak. It only came out as a whisper. "...bit beyond you. Go help the... ponies who can..." Our words trailed off. There was no more energy to put behind them. That was enough, hopefully, to get the point across.
A unicorn in a yellow and pink dress stepped into view. "Fluttershy," she said, her voice the whisper of a whisper, "We're ready for the test run..."
The world faded to black. A black that was all-encompassing. No sight. No sound. Nothing to smell or feel. Even the taste of blood was gone from our mouth.
We were dead.
We should have been dead.
But a pleasant warmth was spreading through us. I could feel it all the way to my host's tail. The world came rushing back like we were being released from a memory orb. There was no pain. It was replaced by the bone-deep chill. Our body was soaked in rain. The trench had become squishy with mud.
We opened our eyes. Our body was healed. Complete.
It was a miracle. It was impossible!
"What did you do?!" I heard a mare's voice cry out from above. I looked up to see the rainbow-maned mare dive out of the sky, a rainbow-colored wake stretching out behind her. "Fluttershy! What. Did. You. Do?!"
Rainbow Dash stopped, hovering in the air, staring in utter shock at her fellow pegasus.
"We healed them," Fluttershy said graciously, her voice somehow filled with happiness but not a hint of pride. Several of her unicorns were trotting up to stand by her side.
"I know that," Rainbow Dash assured her. "But... how?"
Fluttershy blushed, looking pleased. "We call it a 'megaspell'."
Rainbow Dash blinked. "A what now?"
One of the unicorns cleared her throat and Fluttershy took a meek step back, allowing the mare to explain. "It's a new, underlying spell framework that allows smaller spells to be augmented in scope and intensity."
The blue pegasus looked lost. And worried.
"This way," Fluttershy claimed, "We can heal everyone on the battlefield with a single spell. No one has to die because we couldn't get to them in time."
"Every..." Rainbow Dash turned her stare over the battlefield. My host did too. Everywhere, ponies were getting to their feet with expressions of awe and bewilderment. Only the dead remained dead, their corpses strewn across the hills and filling the trenches. The wounded, even those at the very brink of death from impossible wounds, were healthy and whole.
Like my host.
"...all of them?..."
And like the zebra who was pulling herself from amongst the bodies, a zebra sword clutched in her mouth, crackling with electrical fire.
Rainbow Dash shouted at Fluttershy, "You healed everyone!? Indiscriminately? Even the zebras!?!"
"um..."
"Do you know what you've done!??"
"I... we..."
"Do you know how many ponies died here today?" Rainbow Dash bellowed. "And now we have to fight the damn battle all over again!"
I could hear the yellow pegasus squeak, beginning to cry. My heart broke at the sound. I wanted Applesnack to turn towards her... I wanted him to comfort the mare who had just saved his life. But he didn't even spare her a glance. Instead, my host lowered his head, sinking his teeth into mud to pull up his rifle, ignoring the slimy texture and earthy taste.
Shots began to sound across the battlefield outside the trench.
"Fluttershy, get down!" Rainbow Dash cried out a moment before the blue pegasus tackled the yellow one, sending them both rolling into the trench next to me, her wing catching the wake of a missile as it shot over the trench and exploded, raining dirt down on us.
The battle was engaged. Again.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
• • •
Velvet Remedy stopped as we approached the massive gate that the Steel Rangers had built in front of Stable-Tec Headquarters. The armored plate looked like it had been taken from a battleship's hull. It was slid down into grooves in a concrete wall that bisected what had once been the squat skyscraper's courtyard.
Steel Rangers stood guard along the roof and in the open half of the courtyard, accompanied by two of the tank-like sentinel robots that had ironically helped prompt the creation of the anti-machine rifle.
This outer half-courtyard was a mess of cracked steps and shattered cobblestones, concrete planters where nothing grew, and a dried fountain. Above the fountain rose a cracked and badly-weathered statue of a once-beautiful white unicorn with a curling purple and pink mane and tail. The statue had suffered from not only weather but generations of graffiti before the Steel Rangers had taken possession of the building and began fatally discouraging raiders and miscreants from approaching their base of operations.
Everypony else was focused on the guards in magically-powered armor and sentinel robot in front of the gate. The senior paladin mare trotted forward, addressing them. I perked my ears to listen, but felt a sudden hoof-nudge from Calamity. He pointed a hoof and turned to see Velvet Remedy walking up to the fountain.
"Hello, great grandmother," she said softly. "Great, great, great, great, great..." She paused, blushing. "I've sung your song. And I just wanted to say: you saved us. I'm here because of you. Stable Two worked."
The Steel Rangers had quieted, themselves strangely interested in my friend's almost internal conversation with the statue. Calamity moved away from us, flying quietly towards her.
"You got it right." Velvet dug at the ground. "I... just wanted you to know." There was a tear in her eye as she turned and stepped away, moving to rejoin us. Calamity landed next to her, wrapping a foreleg about her in comfort.
Velvet Remedy stopped, leaned into the embrace, and sniffed once. Then broke away, wiping a tear, and returned to her place behind me.
Pyrelight fluttered out of the sky and landed on the statue, causing the Steel Rangers to fall into battle stances.
"At ease," SteelHooves rumbled. I was willing to bet that, behind his mask, he had rolled his eyes.
"Those things are dangerous," one of the knights explained.
I chuckled grimly to myself. "Yeah, she might lift your visor and breathe, baking you." The mental image was grotesque -- having seen a pony killed cruelly like that was horrifying - but somehow the image of Pyrelight pulling the same trick struck my funny bone. Goddesses, there really was something wrong with me.
The knight mare next to me (the one with the machine gun battle saddle) giggled in her armor. "You can't lift the visor in these helmets." She turned to me, "That would be a serious weak point in the armor. I can't imagine such a design getting through the Shield Committee."
I didn't know exactly what she was talking about, but I gleaned the general idea. "It wouldn't," I agreed, "If protection was the primary goal of the armor."
"What other purpose could armor have?" she scoffed.
"Intimidation."
Behind us, Calamity had flown up to look Pyrelight in the eyes. "Ya crap on it, an' she'll kill ya. Fair warnin'."
A sky-rending squeal tore the air. Above us, the giant arm of a crane swung into view from behind the wall. The massive steel talons on the end of it lowered and grasped onto the metal gate. Slowly, with the tortured cry of metal grinding on concrete, the gate to the Steel Ranger's citadel in Stable-Tec Headquarters lifted to allow us access.
"Poppyseed," the knight mare next to me said.
"Hm?" I blinked, confused.
"My name," she said. "I'm Knight Poppyseed." At my continued blank expression, she expounded, "Poppies are a flower from zebra lands. They have seeds."
"Oh." I smiled back. "Littlepip." I lifted my right foreleg, showing off my PipBuck. "Pip is short for PipBuck," I told her, choosing to conveniently forget my name was my mother's play on 'pipsqueak'. "All the ponies in the Stables have them." Even as I said that, I wondered if that was true considering the often-fatal strangeness of other Stable-Tec stables. I looked beyond the lifting gate, a sudden lump in my throat. "...well, in my Stable, at least."
"Really?" Poppyseed commented. "I'd always heard that to pip somepony meant to shoot that pony with a firearm." I had never heard that before. And really, what do you say to that?
The rest of us started to move forward. Pyrelight seemed intent on staying outside in the Fillydelphia outskirts. I wished her well, expecting she would still be nearby when and if we left. She had survived on her own for a long time. I was more concerned about the rest of us.
Calamity looked back at the base of the statue, bent his head forward and snatched a bottle cap out of the dry fountain bed. He flew back to us, taking his place walking at Velvet's side, dropping the cap into one of his saddlebags as he did so.
• • •
The sounds of sporadic gunfire danced in the air. Steel Rangers trotted laps around a track running along the towering wall which encircled the lower floors of Stable-Tec Headquarters. In the inner half-court, a senior paladin was barking orders at initiates as they struggled to master movement in their suits of magically-powered armor.
"Ah get it," Calamity said to SteelHooves as one of the initiates bucked at a badly dented steel plate, leaving hoofmarks nearly half a yard from her intended target. "Yer armor's spell matrix enhances yer strength an' endurance t' compensate fer the bulk o' it, right?"
SteelHooves nodded without a word.
"Interestin'," Calamity mused. "The enchantments in an Enclave suit negate its weight. Kinda like one o' the enchantments on Spitfire's Thunder." SteelHooves glanced back at the unique anti-machine rifle strapped to Calamity's battle saddle. The thing was almost twice as long as he was when fully assembled, so he kept it broken down while traveling. "Differn't approaches, but still... it's all about keepin' the weight down."
SteelHooves had slowed, staring at Calamity. This was the first time he had witnessed Calamity's freaky knowledge of magical engineering, rarely seen as it was.
The senior paladin mare led us up the steps to the once-grand doors of Stable-Tec. What had once been gleaming, polished bronze inlaid with richly varnished wood was now tarnished and discolored metal with inserts of warped and rotting timber. Above the door, the gear-shaped Stable-Tec logo was embedded into a mantel over a pair of decorative nooks where fires had once burned. Ashes from the nooks had stained the wall and doors below in streaks, making the building look like it had been crying.
I shuddered, feeling a chill.
Cocking his ear towards the gunshots, Calamity asked SteelHooves, "Ah take it that's a shootin' range out back. If your friends here ain't inclined t' kick us out or shoot us anytime pressin', think Ah could take a few turns at it?"
"Trying to impress the Rangers?" our ghoul companion retorted.
Calamity laughed. "Hell no. That ain't it a'tall."
I trotted closer, my own curiosity waking. "What then? Surely the four-year-running sharpshooting champion doesn't need lessons. I've never seen you miss..."
Velvet Remedy snarked, "Even when he was supposed to."
"...so why the shooting range?"
The leading mare had stopped at the front door and was speaking to somepony on the other side through an intercom. Poppyseed trotted in place next to me, looking anxious. Or bored. Hard to tell without being able to see an expression.
"Y'see, this new gun, Spitfire's Thunder, is a magically enhanced anti-machine gun. Made fer a pegasus sniper." Calamity tipped the brim of his hat forward. "It's enchanted so's to weigh only a few pounds an' t' have only a feather-brush of a kick. Fires more like a magical-energy weapon than a firearm. Even has a lightnin' gem fuelin' her insides -- that's why she sounds like thunder when she's shot. She fires probably twenty percent faster than the non-magical model and won't never jam. No moving parts."
Now it was my turn to whistle.
"Alla which means she's more magical energy rifle than firearm. But she still uses bullets, just like muh battle saddle. An' bullets are subject t' wind and gravity. So that makes for an odd combination." He smiled to me then looked frankly at SteelHooves. "An' that means Ah best get some love in with her on the firin' range before takin' her inta battle proper."
The door into Stable-Tec was opened from the inside.
Velvet Remedy pushed past us, rolling her eyes and tossing her mane. "Do you and your gun need some alone time?" she shot as she passed Calamity.
He blinked. "Well, yeah. That's what Ah jus' said."
I facehoofed. Velvet Remedy nickered and trotted inside, ignoring the confused pegasus.
• • •
"Does the news today make you anxious? Worried about what might happen to yourself or your family should the megaspells fall? I know and understand your fears because I share them..."
My companions and I looked around, startled. The lobby of Stable-Tec had been designed to be a welcoming self-advertisement. The sad, sweet voice seemed to come from right in front of us, no matter which way were were facing. It filled the air.
"That's Sweetie Belle," Velvet Remedy whispered, searching for the speakers.
"Like you, I hope for the best... but like you, I need to prepare for the worst. I want a safe place for my loved ones to survive if that horrible day should ever come where our beautiful Equestria falls beneath a megaspell holocaust."
"It's automated," Poppyseed told me. "Starts up every time we go through that door. Didn't use to, but then we tried to disable it. Only made it worse." She pointed to the large Stable-Tec logo embedded in the floor. "There used to be an image standing there of that unicorn from the statue out front. Made out of dancing lights -- looked like a damn ghost. Killing that also killed the interface for the tour presentation." She giggled wryly inside her armor. "Enjoy."
Explained why neither our guide nor the Steel Rangers milling about seemed to be paying the voice of Sweetie Belle even the slightest bit of attention.
"I too need to know my family will be safe. But more than that, I want them to be happy. I don't want them locked away in a dark, cramped shelter for the rest of their lives. That's no better than a prison. No... I want my family to be safe and secure inside one of Stable-Tec's magnificent Stables."
Our guide lead us past display cases, most of which were destroyed and the displays plundered, and framed posters on the wall, all badly faded. The posters ranged from terrifying portents of armageddon (all of which somehow managed to be more wholesome and pleasant than the post-apocalyptic reality they attempted to prophesy) to pictures of a smiling Sweetie Belle urging parents to trust their children to Stable-Tec's promise of long and happy lives. All of them had a unifying message, although rarely put into these exact words: We care. You need us. You will die without us. Buy your tickets for the Stable-Tec lottery now.
We were approaching the end of a hallway, passing a pristine Sparkle~Cola machine (this one with a large, back-lit plate showing an orgasmic Fluttershy drinking her favorite carrot-flavored drink) and an ammunition vending machine which had been broken into and thoroughly looted. The end of the hall was adorned in false rocks, so the hallway would appear to transform into a small, darkened cave. The illusion would have been effective if chunks of plaster from the "cave wall" hadn't broken loose, revealing the wire mesh beneath.
As our leader stepped into the cave, loud clunking vibrations echoed through the hall and display lights came on, revealing a huge mock-up of a Stable door.
Sweetie Belle's voice came to life around us again, the recording playing at a strangely low speed for the first few seconds, making her voice briefly sound similar to SteelHooves'.
"Stable-Tec welcomes you to our new line of subterranean stables, featuring our patented S.A.S. arcano-technology. S.A.S. technology is the product of years of dedicated, uncompromising effort by our Stable-Tec scientists to bring you the most advanced and enduring designs based on the three pillars of post-apocalyptic survival: Safety, Amenities and Sustainability."
Velvet Remedy and I exchanged looks.
The mock-Stable door (numbered "0") swung open on hinges as we approached while a soundtrack played the sounds of an actual Stable door being pulled open. Spinning yellow lights topped off the simulation, something that hadn't been present in Stable Two.
"You and your loved ones will be able to sleep in peace, knowing that our impenetrable Stable doors are built to survive and protect even if zebra invaders detonate a Balefire Bomb directly outside of your new, safe and secure home. (With only a projected seven-percent failure rate under even those extreme and unlikely circumstances.) Stable-Tec's mighty Stable doors are guaranteed to protect you and your family."
Wow.
Velvet Remedy stifled a giggle. Before I could stop myself, I whispered "Velvet Remedy's barn door doesn't swing that way." I gasped and quickly corrected myself, "I meant, Stable Two's." Too late. The charcoal-coated unicorn with the scarlet and gold streaks in her white mane was fixing me with a stare that told me I wouldn't be hearing the last of this for a long, uncomfortable time. Dammit, sometimes I hated my mother. Not that my slip-of-the-tongue was really her fault... but it was her fault.
"Still thinking of that dark, cramped cellar that you feared would be your family's home? Let the magical light of S.A.S. technology burn those fears away! Through the magical power of your Stable's appointed Overmare, each Stable will enjoy fully realistic sunlight even underground, with all the warmth and joy it brings," Sweetie Belle's voice boasted. "And at night, a softer light will fill the halls, provided through enduring earth pony technology."
So far, the most accurate part of the exhibit was the hall lighting with it's ever-present, high-pitched whine. Of course this "night-time lighting" had been sixteen hours a day, every day, all the time. The realistic sunlight promised through the Overmare had been reserved for the underground apple orchard. And based on the color and taste of the things we had called apples, I had my doubts about how "fully realistic" it was.
"Concerned about security? Fear not. Each Stable is supplied with a security level and a fully-stocked armory. Our 'Friendly Pie' camera system allows the Overmare to keep an eye on every pony in public areas, without prying into your private affairs." Sweetie Belle's disembodied voice seemed especially pleased with this feature. "We here at Stable-Tec believe in returning your life to the level of respectful privacy that you deserve without compromising your safety."
We began to trudge through the bizarre mock-Stable. Its layout was nothing like the real thing, designed more like an amusement park ride than a functional shelter. Every few yards we would pass a large window. As our leader approached, lights would flicker on inside eternally sealed rooms where mannequins would play out scenes of utopian underground life. With each room we passed, Sweetie Belle's ghost would regale us with some other aspect of how wonderful and safe living in a Stable would be.
After the other Stables I had been in, I found that this was creeping me out. I couldn't stop thinking about how so many Stables had apparently turned into lethal traps, very not like these promises. Somehow, the reaction I saw on Calamity's face made it even worse.
"Here at Stable-Tec, we have taken the time to think of everything. We know that, in the event of the worst kind of megaspell cataclysm, it may take Equestria not months but decades to recover. Those of us who choose to survive the destruction may have to live most of the rest of our lives underground and see a new generation born without knowing the world outside. So each Stable includes a Stable-Tec Apple Orchard, providing not only more than enough food for a growing underground community, but complete with grass for your children's hooves and mist fountains to simulate rainbows, run off one of our patented S.A.S. water talismans."
Did other Stables run out of food? Stable Two's Apple Orchard was, simply put, vast. Which may explain why the rest of the Stable never enjoyed magical sunlight. Did Stable-Tec actually design the other Stables with orchards that could only support a generation or two of growth? Or was Sweetie Belle purposefully downplaying the horrors that she and her two friends anticipated?
"Of course, we all hope and pray that these Stables will never be needed. But can any of us afford to take that gamble and not seek a place of safety and joy for our loved ones and ourselves?"
Velvet Remedy seemed on the verge of tears at the parting words of her ancestor whom we both knew had become the first Overmare of Stable Two -- the Stable whose special purpose was to keep us down there, safe, forever.
Or, I knew, until Spike could find the right ponies to cast Gardens of Equestria.
"Ah can't believe you lived yer whole lives in a place like that," Calamity said as we walked up the steps that lead out of the exhibit. "Ah mean, one that actually worked. This... explains so much."
I opened my mouth, but couldn't find words. Only a little squeak escaped.
"We here at Stable-Tec hope you've enjoyed the tour today. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask at the lobby desk. One of our friendly staff would love to tell you everything you need to know."
• • •
We were made to wait in the long hall of rotting wood paneling outside Elder Blueberry Sabre's office, under the watchful glares of armor-encased ponies, as SteelHooves spoke with the Elder in private.
I tried to engage Poppyseed in conversation. That worked until I misstepped by asking what she thought of the Steel Ranger's Oath, wondering whether she felt the same way as Knight Buck had about following Applejack's principles. What I learned instead was that talking of the Oath to outsiders (or 'tribals' as she called us) was forbidden. After that, she ignored all my further efforts to chat. I couldn't tell if it was because I had deeply offended the knight, or because there were other Steel Rangers watching.
I contemplated trying to eavesdrop, but then realized the guards wouldn't let me close enough to the door. And I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know what was being said. I was sure there were some elements of the conversation that I would do well to hear, particularly anything regarding us or SteelHooves' mission. But there was probably more than a bit of discussion about internal politics and current affairs within the Steel Rangers. Such things were none of my business; and after entering one of SteelHooves' memories without permission, I didn't want to stick my hoof into his affairs uninvited so soon again.
Furthermore, I found that I really didn't want to know. The Steel Rangers were... distasteful.
SteelHooves was a Steel Ranger. Not just a former member who still wore the armor because (for some reason I didn't quite understand) he couldn't remove it, but a current and still active part of the organization. A Star Paladin at that. Which, although I didn't quite know what that meant, sounded impressive.
Between this side-trip and the memories in his memory orbs, I was beginning to learn a lot about my newest companion. (Well, newest four-hooved companion.) And I found I could accept most of it, although not always easily. I felt I could trust him... within certain parameters... and call him a friend. But I did not envy his karma, and I was apprehensive about where his loyalties would fall if the hooves met the apple tree.
Learning about him had also meant learning about the Steel Rangers. I was interested in them as they connected to SteelHooves... and to Applejack, a mare in that special circle of friends whom Spike had personally known and whom I had grown to care about regardless of the centuries between us. The notion of defenders still sworn to the values of Applejack was like a light in the sea of darkness that the Equestrian Wasteland often seemed to be.
But the Steel Rangers themselves, or at least a great many of them, struck me as little better than well-equipped, more principled raiders. They didn't go about raping and torturing. No bodies hung mutilated from their walls. But they had no compunction about just sitting back and letting ponies suffer and starve and die when they had the technology to do some good. They were like Spike, only without the noble and self-sacrificing reason that justified their actions.
I frowned and turned my thoughts away from internal contemplation and back into the hallway. Having decided not to eavesdrop, I slipped my earbloom into one ear and tuned my PipBuck back into the Fillydelphia broadcast. But instead of Red Eye, I got another iteration of "March of the Parasprites". I looked towards my friends. Velvet Remedy and Calamity were sitting together, occasionally casting furtive glances at the door to Blueberry Sabre's office, as Velvet helped divorce Calamity from the more egregious misconceptions of Stable life that the tour had planted.
I contemplated joining the conversation, but I had missed a fair part of it, and both Poppyseed and the guards seemed more interested in them than me. So instead I sat, growing restless (bored). I stared at the pictures on the walls, tattered and age-darkened oil paintings of buildings. I recognized one of them, barely, as the Red Racer factory.
I got up and started to walk the hall, giving the paintings a closer examination. There were pedestals as well, set at regular intervals, each holding a small architectural model. Most of the models had collapsed, overcome by the weight of at least twenty decades. But a few were still standing, mostly intact -- an amazing testament to the model builder.
When Stable-Tec built something, they built it to last.
I was just about to pull the earbloom from my ear when the current song ended (something both patriotic-sounding and yet heavy on the use of an oboe), and Red Eye's voice spoke into my ear.
"My friends, let me share with you a secret, just between you and me. I was not always like this. No, once I was a young colt, irresponsible and carefree. I did not understand the need to toil, to labor. Nor should I have. For I was but a child, and childhood is the time for innocence. For exploration. For happiness and growth.
"I was lucky, fortunate beyond my deserving, to be blessed with safe places to roam, security from the fiends and horrors of the Equestrian Wasteland, and companionship in the form of my beloved dog, Winter. Oh, the adventures we had.
"Sounds beautiful, doesn't it. A time of peace and joy that I can return to in my mind at the end of the day after the Equestrian Wasteland has thrown at me the worst of its horrors and despair. Between the visions of my peaceful past and our gloriously bright future, I find the strength to go on, no matter how hard the path or heavy the load.
"But... my childhood, picturesque and ideal and safe... is that what your own children enjoy? Tell me, Equestrian Wasteland, how many of our children today are truly happy? Truly carefree?
"Sadly, we both know the answer. None. Today, Equestria is a hard, miserable, unforgiving place. Our colts and fillies live with fear, violence, rape and death. The bleak and poisoned world offers our children only meaningless struggle and, all too often, a cruel and terrifying end. There is no joy out there, no hope.
"No more! This ends here. This ends now. One day, yes, the New Equestria we are building will offer them that same utopian security that I once enjoyed... but we cannot wait for that while our children suffer. The leaders of our past may have forgotten how much each colt, each filly, is to be cherished when they unleashed their arrogant wrath upon our world, but we who have lived through hell know better. And we will not wait another day.
"As those living within lands already being reclaimed know, our nation's young ones are, and have always been, my highest priority. All that we sacrifice, we do for them, to give them a better place. And in the meantime, we strive to give them what safety and security our hooves can offer.
"And more than that, dear friends. Oh, much more. We provide schools where they can learn, medical centers where they will obtain free treatment -- the best medical care in all of Equestria, and homes where they can live together with other children, making friends, all under the watchful care of loving, approved mares and stallions.
"Soon, the armies of the Children of Unity will come to your town. Not as an invading army, oh no. But as an army of engineers and teachers and doctors. They will rebuild your schools, establish hospitals that will provide the best care in this ruined and tortured nation, and bring to you the Words of the Goddess, so that you too may know Unity.
"And once again, our children will be able to play."
The door to Blueberry Sabre's office opened. SteelHooves took a step out.
"Littlepip, could you come in here for a moment?"
• • •
Elder Blueberry Sabre was the first Steel Ranger I had actually laid eyes on. She was a rather pretty older mare. I suspected that, when she was closer to my age (or even Velvet's), she must have been quite cute. She had a pleasant blue coat and her mane and tail had once been a berry purple before it turned mostly silver-grey. There were still a few wisps of the original color. I couldn't see her cutie mark; her robes concealed a modest portion of her body.
SteelHooves guided me in, closing the door behind him with his metal-sheathed tail. Blueberry Sabre stood in front of me beside a heavy iron table whose interlaced frontal design reminded me oddly of scaffolding. She had one hoof up on the table, although with a closer glance I could see that her hoof was not actually touching the metal surface. Trapped between hoof and desk was the round black ball of a memory orb.
"Littlepip," SteelHooves said, his voice oddly strained. "I need you to look into that orb and tell me what is inside there."
I looked at him, puzzled. Then at the Steel Ranger Elder. She nodded with a smirk that looked ugly on what should have been a pretty face.
"All right," I said, approaching slowly. I was a little surprised at my own hesitation. Something in the room just felt off. Still, I did as SteelHooves asked, lowering my horn towards the orb and focusing. I felt the odd washing sensation as reality slipped. Part of me panicked, suddenly thinking that they were incapacitating me. A memory of my own -- that of Velvet Remedy shooting me with my own dart gun -- flashed through my head.
And then I was no longer with them.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
The first sense I gained was smell. Even before I could see the barn, I could smell the rich scent of hay, overlaid with other, less pleasant, earthy odors. Sight came next. I wanted to blink as dazzling sunlight, beautiful and pure, filtered into the barn through an open hayloft. Then came touch. First the touch of the cloak I was wearing, a rough but not unpleasant cloth. Then...
I felt odd.
The body I was in was different... but I couldn't really put my finger on how. I had been in earth ponies before; the lack of a horn was no longer startling to me. And the body was less alien than that of a horny male, much less my exceptionally freaky experience as Spike. But I still felt wrong somehow. And it was like an itch that wouldn't go away.
My host was standing in a bed of hay, watching as two familiar mares walked into the barn. They ambled right past me without so much as a glance.
"Now what's this ya wanted t' talk about, Rarity, that we needed t' hide out in the barn fer?"
"Well," the elegant white unicorn said, looking at her freckled friend with the frazzled blonde mane, "Rainbow Dash said that last week at the Summer Sun Celebration, she came on to you, and you didn't mind..."
I wanted to snicker. Rarity had managed to strike a perfect tone between gossip and suggestiveness. Yet I could tell, without a doubt, that she was only playing with the orange mare with the three-apple cutie mark. Call it intuition, but I just knew that Rarity only had eyes for the stallions. And that made Applejack's expression all the funnier.
"Oh hay no!" Applejack nearly shouted, backpedaling. "Gauldangit, not you too! Rainbow Dash was drunk. Again. An' I told 'er..."
I really wished my host would laugh, because it was hard to be in stitches when your body wouldn't cooperate. But in the very least, I could tell Applesnack that whatever he had been afraid I might find in here was rubbish.
Applejack regained her composure as Rarity fluttered her eyes but failed to stifle a ladylike snicker quite fast enough.
"Oh for the love'a..." Applejack stomped. "Didja drag me all the way back here jus' t' mess w' me." She put a hoof to her freckled face. "Aw hell... did Rainbow Dash put ya up to this? This is one of her practical jokes, ain't it?"
"Actually... well yes," Rarity admitted. "It was her idea..."
"Ah knew it!" Applejack huffed, stomping again.
"...but I really do have something I need to talk to you about," the graceful unicorn said, abruptly turning quite serious.
Applejack could tell the mood had changed. Fun, even that at her expense, was over. "What is it?"
"I've... come across some new magic," Rarity said cautiously. "Zebra magic." She stopped, measuring the country mare's reaction.
"Ya mean, like the things Zecora used t' brew?"
"Not exactly, no." Rarity lowered her voice. "Have you ever heard of a soul jar?"
Applejack stared at her purple-maned friend. "No. An' Ah ain't sure Ah want to."
But Rarity wasn't ready to stop. "A soul jar is an item... it can be any item really, it doesn't actually have to be a jar... that you put a soul into."
Applejack looked taken aback, but the unicorn continued. It was as if, now that she had started talking, she couldn't stop until it was all out. "Putting a soul into a soul jar changes the object. It becomes effectively indestructible, for one. And you can use the soul to hang other enchantments on..." The unicorn stopped at a thought, then added, "It becomes a foundation. Not unlike a megaspell framework, I suppose."
"Rarity!" Applejack gasped. "What the hell has gotten into you, girl! Where did you even get this magic? This is..." The orange mare's voice lowered to a hiss. "This is necromancy!"
Rarity looked to her friend and nodded, her own eyes wide. "I know." Then, in answer, "It's from a zebra book called The Black Book." Again she paused, thinking, "Well, the Black Book of... something I can't pronounce. A name, but it doesn't have vowels in the places it ought to. It has all manner of extremely icky things in it. Soul jars. Bypass Spells. Magic to tear souls apart..."
With each word, Applejack's expression became more horrified. Rarity seemed not to quite notice. She gave a smirk like she was revealing a particularly juicy bit of gossip, "If you buy into the more colorful background of the book, they say that it was written by a mad zebra alchemist who communicated with the stars through dreams."
"Who is 'they'?" Applejack asked, but never got an answer.
"Now, I know all of this is perfectly dreadful, and my first instinct was to burn the book and be rid of it," Rarity said. For the first time since the conversation turned dire, Applejack looked a little relieved. That relief was short lived.
"But the top magician in my Ministry says that he ought to be able to take that soul-shredding magic and rework it, turning it into a precision spell that would allow him to cut off just a small portion of a pony's soul. Enough to create a soul jar without doing any real damage to the subject of the spell."
"And... why would you want to do that?"
"Think of it, Applejack! What soldier wouldn't be willing to give up just a small bit of her soul to be put into her own armor, making it completely impervious to any bullet? Any weapon?" Rarity was positively glowing in the rapture of her Idea. "And it wouldn't have to be those ugly metal things your Ministry has been working on. We could make perfect, impenetrable armor out of dresses. Beautiful dresses!"
Applejack was reeling.
"And not only would our soldiers look absolutely fabulous, and be immune to the weapons of the enemy," Rarity continued, "They wouldn't be weighed down, encumbered. Until now, armored barding has always come at the price of mobility, but now..."
"Rarity?"
The unicorn stopped, putting her hooves on Applejack's shoulders. "Applejack, just think. None of our family would have to die in battle anymore. If Big Macintosh had..."
"NO!"
Rarity dropped back, stunned by Applejack's sudden outburst. But the orange earth pony wasn't done. She advanced on her friend, jabbing a hoof at her breast. "Don't you dare bring my brother inta this blackness!"
Rarity gasped, eyes wide.
"This talk stops now!" Applejack demanded. "Ah don't wanna hear another word. This is... vile. No soldier would give what yer suggestin'. An' even if they were willin', how could we let 'em? Some prices are just too high! Don't ya think, if there weren't horrific consequences t' playin' wi' these things, we'd already be facin' zebras with impenetrable armor? Or bullets what could shoot through anything? Or worse?"
"I..." Rarity stopped. She turned her gaze away from Applejack, a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. "Oh... you're so right. I... I don't know what I was thinking!"
Applejack let out breath in deep relief. "It's okay, sugercube. Ya got wrapped up in a notion an' didn't really think it through. Happens t' alla us now an' again."
The unicorn looked up to Applejack, smiling weakly. "Well, then... I'm lucky I have a good friend who can slap me out of it."
Applejack gave a chuckle. "No harm done then. Now Ah want ya t' go back t' Canterlot and continue workin' on your designs. Ya have a heap o' work on yer plate as it is. An' neither o' us will mention this ever again."
"Like it never happened," Rarity said, genuine thankfulness in her voice.
"Like it ne'er happened," Applejack agreed.
Rarity and Applejack embraced each other in a hug. Then the unicorn slipped elegantly away and started back for the barn door.
"Hey," Applejack called out. Her friend stopped, looking back. "An' when ya get back, burn that book. Or better yet, have somepony else do it fer ya," the orange pony suggested. "Ah get the suspicion that even readin' it was messin' with yer head."
"We build it through the sweat and blood we spill to restore the foundations of industry to our great nation. Because without industry, there is no progress. And we are not content to allow another two hundred years to go by with ponykind reduced to scavengers!"
Red Eye's speech ended, his voice replaced by what sounded like carnival music.
Twilight was descending over Fillydelphia when we crested a small hill and I could glean where we were heading.
Nearly two-thirds of Fillydelphia had been cut off, sealed up from the ruins beyond by a great metal wall. The bulk of the industrial center, the amusement park whose roller coaster towered in the fading light, and Fillydelphia Crater itself all hid inside. Not only did towers just inside the wall harbor guardponies, but griffins patrolled the skies around. The glaring dirigibles above provided additional sniper cover.
The "secondary position" of the Steel Rangers was obvious: the largest and most defendable building still intact outside of the wall. The massive, gear-shaped emblem on the front of the building proclaimed what it had been even better than the crumbling, two-story letters that cut through it. The Steel Rangers had taken over the headquarters of Stable-Tec and converted it into a citadel.
Calamity flew casually past me to hover near SteelHooves.
"So, ya ain't an elder cuz ya chose not t' be?" he asked curiously. "Maybe we ain't so different after all."
I felt ice water run down my spine.
SteelHooves turned to Calamity, studying the rust-colored pegasus for a moment. "No. You flew towards your responsibilities in defiance of your own kind, heedless and ignorant of the consequences."
Calamity flapped backwards a bit, a frown forming across on his face.
SteelHooves continued. "I ran away from my responsibilities because I understood exactly what the consequences would be if I did not. I knew there were ponies who would follow my example, and I was not willing to risk a civil war amongst the Steel Rangers."
Turning away from Calamity, SteelHooves said firmly, "We are nothing alike."
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Tough Hide (level two) – The brutal experiences of the Equestrian Wasteland have hardened you. You gain +3 to Damage Threshold for each level of this perk you take.
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Dances of Light and Shadow by Kkat
"Mmm! I can smell the muffins baking now!"
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
Death.
The battlefield was strewn with bloody corpses under a charcoal-grey sky that heaved and threatened rain.
I was dying. Or, more precisely, my host was dying. And, trapped in his memory, I was along for the ride. Part of my mind remained coherent enough to wonder about that. I could feel the press of metal against my host's head, a helmet which could easily hold a recollector. Was I going to experience death?
The rest of my mind was overloaded by the pain that tore at my abdomen. My host had fallen against the wall of the trench, head propped up just enough to see that most of his body below the stomach was no longer as attached as it should be. I could see his intestines and internal organs spilling out onto the recently dug dirt. Mercifully, I couldn't feel that... my host had lost all feeling below the top of the wound.
He was already dead. He must have known it, but his body just hadn't gotten the message yet.
Who was I? I had assumed this was Applesnack's memory, since it came from one of the orbs in his memory case. But that seemed unlikely now. Between the armored barding and the blood, I couldn't be sure.
Several pegasi flew back and forth over the battlefield, searching, relaying messages or calling out names. For a moment, a familiar sky-blue mare with her shockingly brilliant rainbow mane and tail swooped over my trench. She hovered, looking about frantically. Her blood-stained purple suit looked nearly black in the light and her battle saddle was scorched. Her eyes fell on me and she winced. Then she was off again.
"Hey!" The large form of a particularly statuesque red stallion in similar military barding slid down into the trench next to me. His eyes went wide as he took in the morbid reality of my wounds.
"So... Sarge... we drive those striped bastards back?" I felt my muzzle move, and the words came out in a low, masculine voice.
I felt a drop of wetness hit our cheek. At first, I thought the other pony was crying. But then another raindrop fell out of the sky, and another, and another.
"Ayep," the red pony nodded, wisps of orange mane fell from under his helmet, caked a dark red by blood. He spoke slowly, "Ya did good, soldier. Mighty good. They'll make ya Sergeant after this." Rain was beginning to soak into his coat, washing caked blood out of it.
My host choked, coughing up blood. The taste was warm and coppery in our mouth. "Post mortem, I'm afraid, Sarge." My host's voice was eerily calm and even. He had minutes left to live, if that. And he seemed... at peace with it. "I'm afraid I won't be joining you when you go after all."
We felt cold. A chill deeper than that from the rain. I felt drops of rain kissing the seeringly painful wound. I was thankful I couldn't feel drops landing inside me.
"Don't talk," the big one said, looking deeply wounded. "Ah ain't ready t' let ya go, buck."
"Think the zebras had different to say." My god, my host actually chuckled. He was in utter agony... I hadn't felt pain like this since the dragon set me on fire; I was sure that my own body was screaming... and he just chuckled. Like it was nothing. "Don't worry, Sarge. We won the day, right? No regrets..."
The big red stallion looked like he was fighting tears. My host just grinned, his muzzle full of his own blood. "...Well, one regret. Never did get to meet that hot sister of yours."
The stallion frowned dangerously, and I suddenly realized that his mane was the same color as Applejack's coat. And they had similar freckles. Big Macintosh bristled, then burst into a gruff laugh. "Now ya got t' pull through," he grinned, "So's Ah c'n buck yer backside, boy!"
It was too late. Darkness was already creeping into the edges of my host's vision. The reaper pony had come to take him home. Wherever home was before Celestia and Luna were goddesses. My host tilted his head back, staring into the darkening sky, feeling the rain on his face for one last time...
A flock of pegasi soared in from overhead, two of them pulling a passenger wagon full of other ponies, mostly unicorns. All the newcomers wore barding of yellow and pink and carried saddleboxes with little butterflies on them, just like Velvet Remedy's. All except the lead pony. She didn't need the uniform... Fluttershy already was the uniform.
"um... oh.... Oh dear!" The shy pegasus pony looked out over the hills and trenches full of dead and dying. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to tremble. But she stomped a hoof down, and forced herself to find her voice. "Oh... okay. Everypony, everyone... please be calm. We're going to help."
Fluttershy turned and called out to her team, "Please, if you would, take your positions. And hurry. Thank you."
Seeping shadows had nearly engulfed my host's vision, and his other senses were fading fast. I was looking at the world from the bottom of a deep, dark well. Thankfully, the pain was at the top of the well, far away from us. We closed our eyes.
It was hard to open them again. Our eyelids were heavy, like they were made of gold. When we did, there wasn't much to see. Just clouds and rain. Barely visible. We were in a much deeper well.
Fluttershy's head moved between us and the clouds, looking strangely upside-down, cringing at the sight of my host. "Ooooh... Oh no." She dashed up to us. "I... we... I think we can help. Just, please, hold on!"
We strained to speak. It only came out as a whisper. "...bit beyond you. Go help the... ponies who can..." Our words trailed off. There was no more energy to put behind them. That was enough, hopefully, to get the point across.
A unicorn in a yellow and pink dress stepped into view. "Fluttershy," she said, her voice the whisper of a whisper, "We're ready for the test run..."
The world faded to black. A black that was all-encompassing. No sight. No sound. Nothing to smell or feel. Even the taste of blood was gone from our mouth.
We were dead.
We should have been dead.
But a pleasant warmth was spreading through us. I could feel it all the way to my host's tail. The world came rushing back like we were being released from a memory orb. There was no pain. It was replaced by the bone-deep chill. Our body was soaked in rain. The trench had become squishy with mud.
We opened our eyes. Our body was healed. Complete.
It was a miracle. It was impossible!
"What did you do?!" I heard a mare's voice cry out from above. I looked up to see the rainbow-maned mare dive out of the sky, a rainbow-colored wake stretching out behind her. "Fluttershy! What. Did. You. Do?!"
Rainbow Dash stopped, hovering in the air, staring in utter shock at her fellow pegasus.
"We healed them," Fluttershy said graciously, her voice somehow filled with happiness but not a hint of pride. Several of her unicorns were trotting up to stand by her side.
"I know that," Rainbow Dash assured her. "But... how?"
Fluttershy blushed, looking pleased. "We call it a 'megaspell'."
Rainbow Dash blinked. "A what now?"
One of the unicorns cleared her throat and Fluttershy took a meek step back, allowing the mare to explain. "It's a new, underlying spell framework that allows smaller spells to be augmented in scope and intensity."
The blue pegasus looked lost. And worried.
"This way," Fluttershy claimed, "We can heal everyone on the battlefield with a single spell. No one has to die because we couldn't get to them in time."
"Every..." Rainbow Dash turned her stare over the battlefield. My host did too. Everywhere, ponies were getting to their feet with expressions of awe and bewilderment. Only the dead remained dead, their corpses strewn across the hills and filling the trenches. The wounded, even those at the very brink of death from impossible wounds, were healthy and whole.
Like my host.
"...all of them?..."
And like the zebra who was pulling herself from amongst the bodies, a zebra sword clutched in her mouth, crackling with electrical fire.
Rainbow Dash shouted at Fluttershy, "You healed everyone!? Indiscriminately? Even the zebras!?!"
"um..."
"Do you know what you've done!??"
"I... we..."
"Do you know how many ponies died here today?" Rainbow Dash bellowed. "And now we have to fight the damn battle all over again!"
I could hear the yellow pegasus squeak, beginning to cry. My heart broke at the sound. I wanted Applesnack to turn towards her... I wanted him to comfort the mare who had just saved his life. But he didn't even spare her a glance. Instead, my host lowered his head, sinking his teeth into mud to pull up his rifle, ignoring the slimy texture and earthy taste.
Shots began to sound across the battlefield outside the trench.
"Fluttershy, get down!" Rainbow Dash cried out a moment before the blue pegasus tackled the yellow one, sending them both rolling into the trench next to me, her wing catching the wake of a missile as it shot over the trench and exploded, raining dirt down on us.
The battle was engaged. Again.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
• • •
Velvet Remedy stopped as we approached the massive gate that the Steel Rangers had built in front of Stable-Tec Headquarters. The armored plate looked like it had been taken from a battleship's hull. It was slid down into grooves in a concrete wall that bisected what had once been the squat skyscraper's courtyard.
Steel Rangers stood guard along the roof and in the open half of the courtyard, accompanied by two of the tank-like sentinel robots that had ironically helped prompt the creation of the anti-machine rifle.
This outer half-courtyard was a mess of cracked steps and shattered cobblestones, concrete planters where nothing grew, and a dried fountain. Above the fountain rose a cracked and badly-weathered statue of a once-beautiful white unicorn with a curling purple and pink mane and tail. The statue had suffered from not only weather but generations of graffiti before the Steel Rangers had taken possession of the building and began fatally discouraging raiders and miscreants from approaching their base of operations.
Everypony else was focused on the guards in magically-powered armor and sentinel robot in front of the gate. The senior paladin mare trotted forward, addressing them. I perked my ears to listen, but felt a sudden hoof-nudge from Calamity. He pointed a hoof and turned to see Velvet Remedy walking up to the fountain.
"Hello, great grandmother," she said softly. "Great, great, great, great, great..." She paused, blushing. "I've sung your song. And I just wanted to say: you saved us. I'm here because of you. Stable Two worked."
The Steel Rangers had quieted, themselves strangely interested in my friend's almost internal conversation with the statue. Calamity moved away from us, flying quietly towards her.
"You got it right." Velvet dug at the ground. "I... just wanted you to know." There was a tear in her eye as she turned and stepped away, moving to rejoin us. Calamity landed next to her, wrapping a foreleg about her in comfort.
Velvet Remedy stopped, leaned into the embrace, and sniffed once. Then broke away, wiping a tear, and returned to her place behind me.
Pyrelight fluttered out of the sky and landed on the statue, causing the Steel Rangers to fall into battle stances.
"At ease," SteelHooves rumbled. I was willing to bet that, behind his mask, he had rolled his eyes.
"Those things are dangerous," one of the knights explained.
I chuckled grimly to myself. "Yeah, she might lift your visor and breathe, baking you." The mental image was grotesque -- having seen a pony killed cruelly like that was horrifying - but somehow the image of Pyrelight pulling the same trick struck my funny bone. Goddesses, there really was something wrong with me.
The knight mare next to me (the one with the machine gun battle saddle) giggled in her armor. "You can't lift the visor in these helmets." She turned to me, "That would be a serious weak point in the armor. I can't imagine such a design getting through the Shield Committee."
I didn't know exactly what she was talking about, but I gleaned the general idea. "It wouldn't," I agreed, "If protection was the primary goal of the armor."
"What other purpose could armor have?" she scoffed.
"Intimidation."
Behind us, Calamity had flown up to look Pyrelight in the eyes. "Ya crap on it, an' she'll kill ya. Fair warnin'."
A sky-rending squeal tore the air. Above us, the giant arm of a crane swung into view from behind the wall. The massive steel talons on the end of it lowered and grasped onto the metal gate. Slowly, with the tortured cry of metal grinding on concrete, the gate to the Steel Ranger's citadel in Stable-Tec Headquarters lifted to allow us access.
"Poppyseed," the knight mare next to me said.
"Hm?" I blinked, confused.
"My name," she said. "I'm Knight Poppyseed." At my continued blank expression, she expounded, "Poppies are a flower from zebra lands. They have seeds."
"Oh." I smiled back. "Littlepip." I lifted my right foreleg, showing off my PipBuck. "Pip is short for PipBuck," I told her, choosing to conveniently forget my name was my mother's play on 'pipsqueak'. "All the ponies in the Stables have them." Even as I said that, I wondered if that was true considering the often-fatal strangeness of other Stable-Tec stables. I looked beyond the lifting gate, a sudden lump in my throat. "...well, in my Stable, at least."
"Really?" Poppyseed commented. "I'd always heard that to pip somepony meant to shoot that pony with a firearm." I had never heard that before. And really, what do you say to that?
The rest of us started to move forward. Pyrelight seemed intent on staying outside in the Fillydelphia outskirts. I wished her well, expecting she would still be nearby when and if we left. She had survived on her own for a long time. I was more concerned about the rest of us.
Calamity looked back at the base of the statue, bent his head forward and snatched a bottle cap out of the dry fountain bed. He flew back to us, taking his place walking at Velvet's side, dropping the cap into one of his saddlebags as he did so.
• • •
The sounds of sporadic gunfire danced in the air. Steel Rangers trotted laps around a track running along the towering wall which encircled the lower floors of Stable-Tec Headquarters. In the inner half-court, a senior paladin was barking orders at initiates as they struggled to master movement in their suits of magically-powered armor.
"Ah get it," Calamity said to SteelHooves as one of the initiates bucked at a badly dented steel plate, leaving hoofmarks nearly half a yard from her intended target. "Yer armor's spell matrix enhances yer strength an' endurance t' compensate fer the bulk o' it, right?"
SteelHooves nodded without a word.
"Interestin'," Calamity mused. "The enchantments in an Enclave suit negate its weight. Kinda like one o' the enchantments on Spitfire's Thunder." SteelHooves glanced back at the unique anti-machine rifle strapped to Calamity's battle saddle. The thing was almost twice as long as he was when fully assembled, so he kept it broken down while traveling. "Differn't approaches, but still... it's all about keepin' the weight down."
SteelHooves had slowed, staring at Calamity. This was the first time he had witnessed Calamity's freaky knowledge of magical engineering, rarely seen as it was.
The senior paladin mare led us up the steps to the once-grand doors of Stable-Tec. What had once been gleaming, polished bronze inlaid with richly varnished wood was now tarnished and discolored metal with inserts of warped and rotting timber. Above the door, the gear-shaped Stable-Tec logo was embedded into a mantel over a pair of decorative nooks where fires had once burned. Ashes from the nooks had stained the wall and doors below in streaks, making the building look like it had been crying.
I shuddered, feeling a chill.
Cocking his ear towards the gunshots, Calamity asked SteelHooves, "Ah take it that's a shootin' range out back. If your friends here ain't inclined t' kick us out or shoot us anytime pressin', think Ah could take a few turns at it?"
"Trying to impress the Rangers?" our ghoul companion retorted.
Calamity laughed. "Hell no. That ain't it a'tall."
I trotted closer, my own curiosity waking. "What then? Surely the four-year-running sharpshooting champion doesn't need lessons. I've never seen you miss..."
Velvet Remedy snarked, "Even when he was supposed to."
"...so why the shooting range?"
The leading mare had stopped at the front door and was speaking to somepony on the other side through an intercom. Poppyseed trotted in place next to me, looking anxious. Or bored. Hard to tell without being able to see an expression.
"Y'see, this new gun, Spitfire's Thunder, is a magically enhanced anti-machine gun. Made fer a pegasus sniper." Calamity tipped the brim of his hat forward. "It's enchanted so's to weigh only a few pounds an' t' have only a feather-brush of a kick. Fires more like a magical-energy weapon than a firearm. Even has a lightnin' gem fuelin' her insides -- that's why she sounds like thunder when she's shot. She fires probably twenty percent faster than the non-magical model and won't never jam. No moving parts."
Now it was my turn to whistle.
"Alla which means she's more magical energy rifle than firearm. But she still uses bullets, just like muh battle saddle. An' bullets are subject t' wind and gravity. So that makes for an odd combination." He smiled to me then looked frankly at SteelHooves. "An' that means Ah best get some love in with her on the firin' range before takin' her inta battle proper."
The door into Stable-Tec was opened from the inside.
Velvet Remedy pushed past us, rolling her eyes and tossing her mane. "Do you and your gun need some alone time?" she shot as she passed Calamity.
He blinked. "Well, yeah. That's what Ah jus' said."
I facehoofed. Velvet Remedy nickered and trotted inside, ignoring the confused pegasus.
• • •
"Does the news today make you anxious? Worried about what might happen to yourself or your family should the megaspells fall? I know and understand your fears because I share them..."
My companions and I looked around, startled. The lobby of Stable-Tec had been designed to be a welcoming self-advertisement. The sad, sweet voice seemed to come from right in front of us, no matter which way were were facing. It filled the air.
"That's Sweetie Belle," Velvet Remedy whispered, searching for the speakers.
"Like you, I hope for the best... but like you, I need to prepare for the worst. I want a safe place for my loved ones to survive if that horrible day should ever come where our beautiful Equestria falls beneath a megaspell holocaust."
"It's automated," Poppyseed told me. "Starts up every time we go through that door. Didn't use to, but then we tried to disable it. Only made it worse." She pointed to the large Stable-Tec logo embedded in the floor. "There used to be an image standing there of that unicorn from the statue out front. Made out of dancing lights -- looked like a damn ghost. Killing that also killed the interface for the tour presentation." She giggled wryly inside her armor. "Enjoy."
Explained why neither our guide nor the Steel Rangers milling about seemed to be paying the voice of Sweetie Belle even the slightest bit of attention.
"I too need to know my family will be safe. But more than that, I want them to be happy. I don't want them locked away in a dark, cramped shelter for the rest of their lives. That's no better than a prison. No... I want my family to be safe and secure inside one of Stable-Tec's magnificent Stables."
Our guide lead us past display cases, most of which were destroyed and the displays plundered, and framed posters on the wall, all badly faded. The posters ranged from terrifying portents of armageddon (all of which somehow managed to be more wholesome and pleasant than the post-apocalyptic reality they attempted to prophesy) to pictures of a smiling Sweetie Belle urging parents to trust their children to Stable-Tec's promise of long and happy lives. All of them had a unifying message, although rarely put into these exact words: We care. You need us. You will die without us. Buy your tickets for the Stable-Tec lottery now.
We were approaching the end of a hallway, passing a pristine Sparkle~Cola machine (this one with a large, back-lit plate showing an orgasmic Fluttershy drinking her favorite carrot-flavored drink) and an ammunition vending machine which had been broken into and thoroughly looted. The end of the hall was adorned in false rocks, so the hallway would appear to transform into a small, darkened cave. The illusion would have been effective if chunks of plaster from the "cave wall" hadn't broken loose, revealing the wire mesh beneath.
As our leader stepped into the cave, loud clunking vibrations echoed through the hall and display lights came on, revealing a huge mock-up of a Stable door.
Sweetie Belle's voice came to life around us again, the recording playing at a strangely low speed for the first few seconds, making her voice briefly sound similar to SteelHooves'.
"Stable-Tec welcomes you to our new line of subterranean stables, featuring our patented S.A.S. arcano-technology. S.A.S. technology is the product of years of dedicated, uncompromising effort by our Stable-Tec scientists to bring you the most advanced and enduring designs based on the three pillars of post-apocalyptic survival: Safety, Amenities and Sustainability."
Velvet Remedy and I exchanged looks.
The mock-Stable door (numbered "0") swung open on hinges as we approached while a soundtrack played the sounds of an actual Stable door being pulled open. Spinning yellow lights topped off the simulation, something that hadn't been present in Stable Two.
"You and your loved ones will be able to sleep in peace, knowing that our impenetrable Stable doors are built to survive and protect even if zebra invaders detonate a Balefire Bomb directly outside of your new, safe and secure home. (With only a projected seven-percent failure rate under even those extreme and unlikely circumstances.) Stable-Tec's mighty Stable doors are guaranteed to protect you and your family."
Wow.
Velvet Remedy stifled a giggle. Before I could stop myself, I whispered "Velvet Remedy's barn door doesn't swing that way." I gasped and quickly corrected myself, "I meant, Stable Two's." Too late. The charcoal-coated unicorn with the scarlet and gold streaks in her white mane was fixing me with a stare that told me I wouldn't be hearing the last of this for a long, uncomfortable time. Dammit, sometimes I hated my mother. Not that my slip-of-the-tongue was really her fault... but it was her fault.
"Still thinking of that dark, cramped cellar that you feared would be your family's home? Let the magical light of S.A.S. technology burn those fears away! Through the magical power of your Stable's appointed Overmare, each Stable will enjoy fully realistic sunlight even underground, with all the warmth and joy it brings," Sweetie Belle's voice boasted. "And at night, a softer light will fill the halls, provided through enduring earth pony technology."
So far, the most accurate part of the exhibit was the hall lighting with it's ever-present, high-pitched whine. Of course this "night-time lighting" had been sixteen hours a day, every day, all the time. The realistic sunlight promised through the Overmare had been reserved for the underground apple orchard. And based on the color and taste of the things we had called apples, I had my doubts about how "fully realistic" it was.
"Concerned about security? Fear not. Each Stable is supplied with a security level and a fully-stocked armory. Our 'Friendly Pie' camera system allows the Overmare to keep an eye on every pony in public areas, without prying into your private affairs." Sweetie Belle's disembodied voice seemed especially pleased with this feature. "We here at Stable-Tec believe in returning your life to the level of respectful privacy that you deserve without compromising your safety."
We began to trudge through the bizarre mock-Stable. Its layout was nothing like the real thing, designed more like an amusement park ride than a functional shelter. Every few yards we would pass a large window. As our leader approached, lights would flicker on inside eternally sealed rooms where mannequins would play out scenes of utopian underground life. With each room we passed, Sweetie Belle's ghost would regale us with some other aspect of how wonderful and safe living in a Stable would be.
After the other Stables I had been in, I found that this was creeping me out. I couldn't stop thinking about how so many Stables had apparently turned into lethal traps, very not like these promises. Somehow, the reaction I saw on Calamity's face made it even worse.
"Here at Stable-Tec, we have taken the time to think of everything. We know that, in the event of the worst kind of megaspell cataclysm, it may take Equestria not months but decades to recover. Those of us who choose to survive the destruction may have to live most of the rest of our lives underground and see a new generation born without knowing the world outside. So each Stable includes a Stable-Tec Apple Orchard, providing not only more than enough food for a growing underground community, but complete with grass for your children's hooves and mist fountains to simulate rainbows, run off one of our patented S.A.S. water talismans."
Did other Stables run out of food? Stable Two's Apple Orchard was, simply put, vast. Which may explain why the rest of the Stable never enjoyed magical sunlight. Did Stable-Tec actually design the other Stables with orchards that could only support a generation or two of growth? Or was Sweetie Belle purposefully downplaying the horrors that she and her two friends anticipated?
"Of course, we all hope and pray that these Stables will never be needed. But can any of us afford to take that gamble and not seek a place of safety and joy for our loved ones and ourselves?"
Velvet Remedy seemed on the verge of tears at the parting words of her ancestor whom we both knew had become the first Overmare of Stable Two -- the Stable whose special purpose was to keep us down there, safe, forever.
Or, I knew, until Spike could find the right ponies to cast Gardens of Equestria.
"Ah can't believe you lived yer whole lives in a place like that," Calamity said as we walked up the steps that lead out of the exhibit. "Ah mean, one that actually worked. This... explains so much."
I opened my mouth, but couldn't find words. Only a little squeak escaped.
"We here at Stable-Tec hope you've enjoyed the tour today. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask at the lobby desk. One of our friendly staff would love to tell you everything you need to know."
• • •
We were made to wait in the long hall of rotting wood paneling outside Elder Blueberry Sabre's office, under the watchful glares of armor-encased ponies, as SteelHooves spoke with the Elder in private.
I tried to engage Poppyseed in conversation. That worked until I misstepped by asking what she thought of the Steel Ranger's Oath, wondering whether she felt the same way as Knight Buck had about following Applejack's principles. What I learned instead was that talking of the Oath to outsiders (or 'tribals' as she called us) was forbidden. After that, she ignored all my further efforts to chat. I couldn't tell if it was because I had deeply offended the knight, or because there were other Steel Rangers watching.
I contemplated trying to eavesdrop, but then realized the guards wouldn't let me close enough to the door. And I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know what was being said. I was sure there were some elements of the conversation that I would do well to hear, particularly anything regarding us or SteelHooves' mission. But there was probably more than a bit of discussion about internal politics and current affairs within the Steel Rangers. Such things were none of my business; and after entering one of SteelHooves' memories without permission, I didn't want to stick my hoof into his affairs uninvited so soon again.
Furthermore, I found that I really didn't want to know. The Steel Rangers were... distasteful.
SteelHooves was a Steel Ranger. Not just a former member who still wore the armor because (for some reason I didn't quite understand) he couldn't remove it, but a current and still active part of the organization. A Star Paladin at that. Which, although I didn't quite know what that meant, sounded impressive.
Between this side-trip and the memories in his memory orbs, I was beginning to learn a lot about my newest companion. (Well, newest four-hooved companion.) And I found I could accept most of it, although not always easily. I felt I could trust him... within certain parameters... and call him a friend. But I did not envy his karma, and I was apprehensive about where his loyalties would fall if the hooves met the apple tree.
Learning about him had also meant learning about the Steel Rangers. I was interested in them as they connected to SteelHooves... and to Applejack, a mare in that special circle of friends whom Spike had personally known and whom I had grown to care about regardless of the centuries between us. The notion of defenders still sworn to the values of Applejack was like a light in the sea of darkness that the Equestrian Wasteland often seemed to be.
But the Steel Rangers themselves, or at least a great many of them, struck me as little better than well-equipped, more principled raiders. They didn't go about raping and torturing. No bodies hung mutilated from their walls. But they had no compunction about just sitting back and letting ponies suffer and starve and die when they had the technology to do some good. They were like Spike, only without the noble and self-sacrificing reason that justified their actions.
I frowned and turned my thoughts away from internal contemplation and back into the hallway. Having decided not to eavesdrop, I slipped my earbloom into one ear and tuned my PipBuck back into the Fillydelphia broadcast. But instead of Red Eye, I got another iteration of "March of the Parasprites". I looked towards my friends. Velvet Remedy and Calamity were sitting together, occasionally casting furtive glances at the door to Blueberry Sabre's office, as Velvet helped divorce Calamity from the more egregious misconceptions of Stable life that the tour had planted.
I contemplated joining the conversation, but I had missed a fair part of it, and both Poppyseed and the guards seemed more interested in them than me. So instead I sat, growing restless (bored). I stared at the pictures on the walls, tattered and age-darkened oil paintings of buildings. I recognized one of them, barely, as the Red Racer factory.
I got up and started to walk the hall, giving the paintings a closer examination. There were pedestals as well, set at regular intervals, each holding a small architectural model. Most of the models had collapsed, overcome by the weight of at least twenty decades. But a few were still standing, mostly intact -- an amazing testament to the model builder.
When Stable-Tec built something, they built it to last.
I was just about to pull the earbloom from my ear when the current song ended (something both patriotic-sounding and yet heavy on the use of an oboe), and Red Eye's voice spoke into my ear.
"My friends, let me share with you a secret, just between you and me. I was not always like this. No, once I was a young colt, irresponsible and carefree. I did not understand the need to toil, to labor. Nor should I have. For I was but a child, and childhood is the time for innocence. For exploration. For happiness and growth.
"I was lucky, fortunate beyond my deserving, to be blessed with safe places to roam, security from the fiends and horrors of the Equestrian Wasteland, and companionship in the form of my beloved dog, Winter. Oh, the adventures we had.
"Sounds beautiful, doesn't it. A time of peace and joy that I can return to in my mind at the end of the day after the Equestrian Wasteland has thrown at me the worst of its horrors and despair. Between the visions of my peaceful past and our gloriously bright future, I find the strength to go on, no matter how hard the path or heavy the load.
"But... my childhood, picturesque and ideal and safe... is that what your own children enjoy? Tell me, Equestrian Wasteland, how many of our children today are truly happy? Truly carefree?
"Sadly, we both know the answer. None. Today, Equestria is a hard, miserable, unforgiving place. Our colts and fillies live with fear, violence, rape and death. The bleak and poisoned world offers our children only meaningless struggle and, all too often, a cruel and terrifying end. There is no joy out there, no hope.
"No more! This ends here. This ends now. One day, yes, the New Equestria we are building will offer them that same utopian security that I once enjoyed... but we cannot wait for that while our children suffer. The leaders of our past may have forgotten how much each colt, each filly, is to be cherished when they unleashed their arrogant wrath upon our world, but we who have lived through hell know better. And we will not wait another day.
"As those living within lands already being reclaimed know, our nation's young ones are, and have always been, my highest priority. All that we sacrifice, we do for them, to give them a better place. And in the meantime, we strive to give them what safety and security our hooves can offer.
"And more than that, dear friends. Oh, much more. We provide schools where they can learn, medical centers where they will obtain free treatment -- the best medical care in all of Equestria, and homes where they can live together with other children, making friends, all under the watchful care of loving, approved mares and stallions.
"Soon, the armies of the Children of Unity will come to your town. Not as an invading army, oh no. But as an army of engineers and teachers and doctors. They will rebuild your schools, establish hospitals that will provide the best care in this ruined and tortured nation, and bring to you the Words of the Goddess, so that you too may know Unity.
"And once again, our children will be able to play."
The door to Blueberry Sabre's office opened. SteelHooves took a step out.
"Littlepip, could you come in here for a moment?"
• • •
Elder Blueberry Sabre was the first Steel Ranger I had actually laid eyes on. She was a rather pretty older mare. I suspected that, when she was closer to my age (or even Velvet's), she must have been quite cute. She had a pleasant blue coat and her mane and tail had once been a berry purple before it turned mostly silver-grey. There were still a few wisps of the original color. I couldn't see her cutie mark; her robes concealed a modest portion of her body.
SteelHooves guided me in, closing the door behind him with his metal-sheathed tail. Blueberry Sabre stood in front of me beside a heavy iron table whose interlaced frontal design reminded me oddly of scaffolding. She had one hoof up on the table, although with a closer glance I could see that her hoof was not actually touching the metal surface. Trapped between hoof and desk was the round black ball of a memory orb.
"Littlepip," SteelHooves said, his voice oddly strained. "I need you to look into that orb and tell me what is inside there."
I looked at him, puzzled. Then at the Steel Ranger Elder. She nodded with a smirk that looked ugly on what should have been a pretty face.
"All right," I said, approaching slowly. I was a little surprised at my own hesitation. Something in the room just felt off. Still, I did as SteelHooves asked, lowering my horn towards the orb and focusing. I felt the odd washing sensation as reality slipped. Part of me panicked, suddenly thinking that they were incapacitating me. A memory of my own -- that of Velvet Remedy shooting me with my own dart gun -- flashed through my head.
And then I was no longer with them.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
The first sense I gained was smell. Even before I could see the barn, I could smell the rich scent of hay, overlaid with other, less pleasant, earthy odors. Sight came next. I wanted to blink as dazzling sunlight, beautiful and pure, filtered into the barn through an open hayloft. Then came touch. First the touch of the cloak I was wearing, a rough but not unpleasant cloth. Then...
I felt odd.
The body I was in was different... but I couldn't really put my finger on how. I had been in earth ponies before; the lack of a horn was no longer startling to me. And the body was less alien than that of a horny male, much less my exceptionally freaky experience as Spike. But I still felt wrong somehow. And it was like an itch that wouldn't go away.
My host was standing in a bed of hay, watching as two familiar mares walked into the barn. They ambled right past me without so much as a glance.
"Now what's this ya wanted t' talk about, Rarity, that we needed t' hide out in the barn fer?"
"Well," the elegant white unicorn said, looking at her freckled friend with the frazzled blonde mane, "Rainbow Dash said that last week at the Summer Sun Celebration, she came on to you, and you didn't mind..."
I wanted to snicker. Rarity had managed to strike a perfect tone between gossip and suggestiveness. Yet I could tell, without a doubt, that she was only playing with the orange mare with the three-apple cutie mark. Call it intuition, but I just knew that Rarity only had eyes for the stallions. And that made Applejack's expression all the funnier.
"Oh hay no!" Applejack nearly shouted, backpedaling. "Gauldangit, not you too! Rainbow Dash was drunk. Again. An' I told 'er..."
I really wished my host would laugh, because it was hard to be in stitches when your body wouldn't cooperate. But in the very least, I could tell Applesnack that whatever he had been afraid I might find in here was rubbish.
Applejack regained her composure as Rarity fluttered her eyes but failed to stifle a ladylike snicker quite fast enough.
"Oh for the love'a..." Applejack stomped. "Didja drag me all the way back here jus' t' mess w' me." She put a hoof to her freckled face. "Aw hell... did Rainbow Dash put ya up to this? This is one of her practical jokes, ain't it?"
"Actually... well yes," Rarity admitted. "It was her idea..."
"Ah knew it!" Applejack huffed, stomping again.
"...but I really do have something I need to talk to you about," the graceful unicorn said, abruptly turning quite serious.
Applejack could tell the mood had changed. Fun, even that at her expense, was over. "What is it?"
"I've... come across some new magic," Rarity said cautiously. "Zebra magic." She stopped, measuring the country mare's reaction.
"Ya mean, like the things Zecora used t' brew?"
"Not exactly, no." Rarity lowered her voice. "Have you ever heard of a soul jar?"
Applejack stared at her purple-maned friend. "No. An' Ah ain't sure Ah want to."
But Rarity wasn't ready to stop. "A soul jar is an item... it can be any item really, it doesn't actually have to be a jar... that you put a soul into."
Applejack looked taken aback, but the unicorn continued. It was as if, now that she had started talking, she couldn't stop until it was all out. "Putting a soul into a soul jar changes the object. It becomes effectively indestructible, for one. And you can use the soul to hang other enchantments on..." The unicorn stopped at a thought, then added, "It becomes a foundation. Not unlike a megaspell framework, I suppose."
"Rarity!" Applejack gasped. "What the hell has gotten into you, girl! Where did you even get this magic? This is..." The orange mare's voice lowered to a hiss. "This is necromancy!"
Rarity looked to her friend and nodded, her own eyes wide. "I know." Then, in answer, "It's from a zebra book called The Black Book." Again she paused, thinking, "Well, the Black Book of... something I can't pronounce. A name, but it doesn't have vowels in the places it ought to. It has all manner of extremely icky things in it. Soul jars. Bypass Spells. Magic to tear souls apart..."
With each word, Applejack's expression became more horrified. Rarity seemed not to quite notice. She gave a smirk like she was revealing a particularly juicy bit of gossip, "If you buy into the more colorful background of the book, they say that it was written by a mad zebra alchemist who communicated with the stars through dreams."
"Who is 'they'?" Applejack asked, but never got an answer.
"Now, I know all of this is perfectly dreadful, and my first instinct was to burn the book and be rid of it," Rarity said. For the first time since the conversation turned dire, Applejack looked a little relieved. That relief was short lived.
"But the top magician in my Ministry says that he ought to be able to take that soul-shredding magic and rework it, turning it into a precision spell that would allow him to cut off just a small portion of a pony's soul. Enough to create a soul jar without doing any real damage to the subject of the spell."
"And... why would you want to do that?"
"Think of it, Applejack! What soldier wouldn't be willing to give up just a small bit of her soul to be put into her own armor, making it completely impervious to any bullet? Any weapon?" Rarity was positively glowing in the rapture of her Idea. "And it wouldn't have to be those ugly metal things your Ministry has been working on. We could make perfect, impenetrable armor out of dresses. Beautiful dresses!"
Applejack was reeling.
"And not only would our soldiers look absolutely fabulous, and be immune to the weapons of the enemy," Rarity continued, "They wouldn't be weighed down, encumbered. Until now, armored barding has always come at the price of mobility, but now..."
"Rarity?"
The unicorn stopped, putting her hooves on Applejack's shoulders. "Applejack, just think. None of our family would have to die in battle anymore. If Big Macintosh had..."
"NO!"
Rarity dropped back, stunned by Applejack's sudden outburst. But the orange earth pony wasn't done. She advanced on her friend, jabbing a hoof at her breast. "Don't you dare bring my brother inta this blackness!"
Rarity gasped, eyes wide.
"This talk stops now!" Applejack demanded. "Ah don't wanna hear another word. This is... vile. No soldier would give what yer suggestin'. An' even if they were willin', how could we let 'em? Some prices are just too high! Don't ya think, if there weren't horrific consequences t' playin' wi' these things, we'd already be facin' zebras with impenetrable armor? Or bullets what could shoot through anything? Or worse?"
"I..." Rarity stopped. She turned her gaze away from Applejack, a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. "Oh... you're so right. I... I don't know what I was thinking!"
Applejack let out breath in deep relief. "It's okay, sugercube. Ya got wrapped up in a notion an' didn't really think it through. Happens t' alla us now an' again."
The unicorn looked up to Applejack, smiling weakly. "Well, then... I'm lucky I have a good friend who can slap me out of it."
Applejack gave a chuckle. "No harm done then. Now Ah want ya t' go back t' Canterlot and continue workin' on your designs. Ya have a heap o' work on yer plate as it is. An' neither o' us will mention this ever again."
"Like it never happened," Rarity said, genuine thankfulness in her voice.
"Like it ne'er happened," Applejack agreed.
Rarity and Applejack embraced each other in a hug. Then the unicorn slipped elegantly away and started back for the barn door.
"Hey," Applejack called out. Her friend stopped, looking back. "An' when ya get back, burn that book. Or better yet, have somepony else do it fer ya," the orange pony suggested. "Ah get the suspicion that even readin' it was messin' with yer head."
-
Dead Pony
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
(11:46:56 AM) Radio_PhoolCat: [ban bankers]
(11:47:04 AM) Tailspin:
(11:47:21 AM) Corpus: !pony
(11:47:23 AM) Aracat: PONY PUNCTURES THE POISON
(11:48:02 AM) [Insertnamehere] [[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:49:39 AM) Tailspin: Here's one in PNG if that format is better
(11:49:41 AM) Tailspin: Enjoy
(11:50:41 AM) Tailspin: Berrybot, ban
(11:50:45 AM) Berrybot: ban lobst for muteness
(11:52:17 AM) minusX: hahaha
(11:52:17 AM) TimeTurner: Dark Souls: Manly Miner Men :: 5:39 :: ★★★★★ :: 30,191 Views :: 1,693 Ratings
(11:52:18 AM) Yolostar: :3
(11:52:53 AM) terribly [[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:52:55 AM) Dead_Horse: i love turning on lyat
(11:53:01 AM) Dead_Horse: and seeing the lesbo thread furiously posting
(11:53:01 AM) Kalkkis: Berrybot, muteness
(11:53:02 AM) Berrybot: berrybot, muteness
(11:53:15 AM) Dead_Horse: and then i add one solid month of horse_ebooks and shoot em out of the water
(11:53:26 AM) Tailspin: Ah, horse_ebooks
(11:53:40 AM) Dead_Horse: high volume low effort posting
(11:54:00 AM) Suaimhneas: That video's great
(11:54:02 AM) terribly: question: has anyone ripped the sound archive/the sounds themselves to the latest update for the gameloft app (ver. 1.2.6)? i ask this because i wanted to see if any new lines featuring chrysalis were recorded, but the ios version hasn't been/has yet to be updated with the proper canterlot expansion, so i can't really check for myself.
(11:54:09 AM) MysticCave_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:54:23 AM) Dead_Horse: does the gameloft game not suck yet
(11:54:40 AM) Tailspin: Nope
(11:54:44 AM) Tailspin: It stills sucks
(11:55:03 AM) Tailspin: Though, if you hack it it can be fun watching the ponies be cute
(11:55:07 AM) terribly: whatever
(11:55:17 AM) ixnay: it won't even load for me now, it crashes on the loading screen
(11:55:28 AM) terribly: i just want some chrysalis voice clips (if any exist, that is)
(11:55:28 AM) Tailspin: I can't install it on my phone
(11:56:06 AM) Tailspin: I dunno, terribly, maybe wait until tommorow and ask in the thread
(11:56:16 AM) Tailspin: Don't know how many people here still play it
(11:56:49 AM) MysticCave left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(11:57:00 AM) Dead_Horse: minusX: that video
(11:57:06 AM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(11:57:17 AM) minusX: Yes
(11:57:52 AM) DoctorWheeze: berrybot, Applejack:
(11:57:53 AM) terribly: i already asked one mlp "chan" if any of them have and i've gotten no responses
(11:57:56 AM) Berrybot: applejack: "magic? blasphemy! fuckin apples, that's where everyone must wear fedoras indoors?
(11:59:08 AM) Lazy [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:59:08 AM) Westy543: [Greet]
(11:59:20 AM) Tailspin: Hey Lazy
(12:00:26 PM) Suaimhneas: Best part is the guy doing "Well what is it?" at the mushroom and getting laid out with one punch
(12:01:00 PM) Trixiebot: Fluttershy: Hi Spike. I'm Fluttershy. Wow! A talking dragon, and... what do dragons talk about?
(12:03:15 PM) ryaxnb left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(12:04:55 PM) Tailspin left the room (quit: Quit: Tailspin).
(12:05:40 PM) Lastair:
(12:06:39 PM) TimeTurner: Why not vote on a blast from Bronibooru's past! artist_unknown grayscale lineart twilight_sparkle zecora
(12:06:39 PM) TimeTurner: http://www.bronibooru.com/post/show/3371
(12:06:45 PM) Dead_Horse: SHAKE YA BASSET HOUND
(12:06:50 PM) Dead_Horse: WATCH YA SELF
(12:08:05 PM) Keratin [[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:09:46 PM) Haywire4: berrybot, tsundere
(12:09:59 PM) DongStrongly [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:10:40 PM) Dead_Horse: work, backing,
(12:10:56 PM) DongStrongly: guess who just got a shure pg58
(12:11:03 PM) Berrybot: exclusive: doctorwheeze was playing along to give sony a second story "rarity burns down or kill at once even saw a man running with the hatpony thing, some cultures i want tsundere cop partner already
(12:11:05 PM) DongStrongly: fuck ur mom thats who
(12:11:16 PM) Dead_Horse: give me your shure, dickhead
(12:11:20 PM) DongStrongly: i fucked ur mom
(12:11:21 PM) Dead_Horse: you dont need it where you're going
(12:11:21 PM) Corpus: !link yourmom
(12:11:21 PM) TimeTurner:
(12:11:38 PM) DongStrongly: guess who got a shure pg58 for $7
(12:11:50 PM) Dead_Horse: fuck you and give me that mic
(12:11:57 PM) Dead_Horse: watch me wreck the mic
(12:11:58 PM) Dead_Horse: watch me wreck the mic
(12:11:59 PM) Dead_Horse: watch me wreck the mic
(12:11:59 PM) DongStrongly: fuck u and ur horse
(12:12:00 PM) Dead_Horse: hahaha
(12:12:01 PM) Dead_Horse: psyche
(12:12:09 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:12:28 PM) Dead_Horse: but really fuck you with all the jealous hate in my ass
(12:12:44 PM) Dead_Horse: not like i have a PA system to even use mics with yet
(12:12:46 PM) DongStrongly: not my fault im a pro thrift store bargain hunter
(12:12:48 PM) garamir: this YouTube stream is amazing
(12:12:51 PM) Yuls: Don't do it, Dong. Don't fuck him or his horse.
(12:13:00 PM) DongStrongly: ur not the president of me
(12:13:07 PM) Dead_Horse: you're not my supervisor!
(12:13:18 PM) garamir: Yes, Prime Minister!
(12:13:38 PM) DongStrongly: i answer to only one man, and his name is jesus
(12:13:51 PM) DongStrongly: jesus ramirez at white castle
(12:14:06 PM) DongStrongly: he keeps calling me
(12:14:26 PM) Yuls: I am no man.
(12:14:29 PM) DongStrongly: i think he thinks im gay and because hes gay its apparently okay to keep putting his rancid boner in my butt
(12:16:35 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(12:17:19 PM) Geomancing: Maybe you should keep your pants on
(12:20:32 PM) Rhgr left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(12:21:06 PM) Lastair: !pony
(12:21:07 PM) Aracat: PONY JUDGES THE WOOL
(12:25:44 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:26:14 PM) Trixiebot: Rainbow Dash: Is this some kind of cruel joke?
(12:26:51 PM) Wulfolme: pony finds the wool wanting
(12:28:44 PM) minusX|away [[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:28:44 PM) mode (+ao minusX|away minusX|away) by Angel
(12:29:08 PM) minusX left the room (quit: Connection reset by peer).
(12:29:49 PM) Wulfolme: is till think Angel is named after the bunny
(12:30:49 PM) Geomancing: Yep
(12:31:05 PM) Geomancing: Otherwise it'd just be ChanServ
(12:31:13 PM) Rhgr [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:31:14 PM) minusX|away: It's not named after the bunny
(12:31:19 PM) minusX|away: But I choose it for that reason
(12:31:24 PM) minusX|away is now known as minusX
(12:31:27 PM) Geomancing: Well it is now!
(12:31:44 PM) minusX: /botserv botlist
(12:39:55 PM) DongStrongly: oh man i keep feeling like im about to shit my pants but all that comes out are starburst still in the wrapper
(12:40:22 PM) Yuls: That is tragic.
(12:42:18 PM) Wulfolme: why is the internet company telling me my account is overdue
(12:42:22 PM) Wulfolme: I paid on thursday
(12:42:36 PM) Wulfolme: their internet sucks anyway
(12:42:48 PM) The account has disconnected and you are no longer in this chat. You will automatically rejoin the chat when the account reconnects.
(7:48:26 PM) The topic for #ponygoons is: Welcome to #ponygoonsunbridled official LYAT channel || IDW #6 is leaked, take discussion to spoiler forum || New Slice of Pony Life! || Also Double Rainboom I guess || MLP Season 4 airs Today trailer:
(7:48:27 PM) Westy543: [Greet] http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/ ... 5mggoa.swf
(7:48:37 PM) Gnintendo: has anybody heard anything about the quality of the German bluray?
(7:48:51 PM) Dead_Horse: ist wunderbar
(7:50:27 PM) ChocDooder: that almost sounds like a joke
(7:50:41 PM) ChocDooder: but Dead_Horse is never funny
(7:51:03 PM) Dead_Horse: i only speak the truth
(7:51:27 PM) Robotzor: hehe lyat is so burned out
(7:51:35 PM) Robotzor: like squeezing a dry sponge now
(7:52:07 PM) FactoryFactory: when it started it was like... a dozen posts a second
(7:52:08 PM) Gnintendo: Dead_Horse: where did you hear that?
(7:52:27 PM) Malleus [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(7:52:32 PM) Dead_Horse: on dur internet
(7:52:53 PM) Gnintendo: source? I would like to read it
(7:53:07 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(7:53:18 PM) Gnintendo: do we have any screenshots of the bluray yet?
(7:53:55 PM) ouranio_toxo_eksormisi_ipad left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(7:55:14 PM) Dead_Horse: Gnintendo: http://www.hasbro.com/mylittlepony/de_D ... 0DBD:de_DE
(7:55:18 PM) TimeTurner: My Little Pony Babypony Sweetie Belle | Nerf Blasters & Outdoor Toys
(7:55:32 PM) Dead_Horse: TimeTurner knows German!
(7:55:33 PM) Gnintendo: link is dead here
(7:55:34 PM) Dead_Horse: whoa
(7:55:35 PM) BartonFink: - Ted 'Theodore' Logan, "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure"
(7:55:56 PM) Quanta|Laptop: woah
(7:55:56 PM) BartonFink: - Ted 'Theodore' Logan, "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure"
(7:55:56 PM) BartonFink: Send Link
(7:56:01 PM) Corpus: literal sweetie bot
(7:56:19 PM) Gnintendo: owait there it goes
(7:56:39 PM) Quanta|Laptop: Berrybot, BartonFink]
(7:56:40 PM) Berrybot: [ban barrrtonfink]
(7:57:26 PM) Raganti: heh
(7:57:42 PM) numsOic [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(7:57:44 PM) FactoryFactory: Berrybot, Mabel
(7:57:45 PM) Gnintendo: so I guess nobody has gotten a hold of the bluray yet
(7:57:47 PM) Berrybot: no apparent reason, so even in reddit i'd rather write dan vs mabel
(7:57:47 PM) Wulfolme left the room (quit: Quit: http://www.mibbit.com ajax IRC Client).
(7:57:48 PM) Gnintendo: darn
(8:00:04 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:01:13 PM) Corpus: berrybot, baseball
(8:01:14 PM) Berrybot: contra: clearlyyy this baseball or nfl?
(8:02:20 PM) Gnintendo: I swear I'm the only one who wants the bluray ^-.-^
(8:02:23 PM) ChocDooder: !pony
(8:02:23 PM) Aracat: PONY CONSIDERS THE SUMMER
(8:02:38 PM) Gnintendo: one of the amazon bluray reviews says it's sped up compared to the original
(8:02:44 PM) Gnintendo: hard to say if it's founded
(8:02:46 PM) ChocDooder: <-.->
(8:02:57 PM) Malleus: pony on bluray?
(8:03:12 PM) Gnintendo: yes, season 1 came out on bluray 3 days ago
(8:03:15 PM) Gnintendo: (in Germany)
(8:03:22 PM) Gnintendo: but it has the English audio too
(8:03:30 PM) Malleus: huh that's neat
(8:03:35 PM) numsOic: what's lya
(8:03:35 PM) ChocDooder: dubbed and subbed
(8:03:35 PM) numsOic: t
(8:03:38 PM) numsOic: *lyat
(8:03:49 PM) DasNasty [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:03:53 PM) Dead_Horse:
(8:03:55 PM) TimeTurner: Bobobo-bo bo-bobo spoons!! :: 2:15 :: ★★★★★ :: 23,736 Views :: 128 Ratings
(8:03:56 PM) Dead_Horse: next phase
(8:04:08 PM) Dead_Horse: everyone becomes Bobobo-bo-bo-bobonies
(8:04:10 PM) Gnintendo: I'm waiting for info on the actual quality of it before I buy it
(8:04:23 PM) Gnintendo: so far it doesn't really seem like much of anybody even has the thing yet
(8:04:36 PM) Gnintendo: and I'm not sure that will ever really change, since it doesn't seem like too many people are interested
(8:05:02 PM) Trixiebot: Chancellor Puddinghead: Oh look you found my rock! I've been looking for it everywhere!
(8:05:07 PM) Robotzor: seriously
(8:05:14 PM) Malleus: I am vaguely interested just because I've been meaning to download ponies again
(8:05:24 PM) Malleus: but I guess quality is fine as it is now
(8:05:36 PM) Gnintendo: right, so not very many people really want it
(8:05:49 PM) Gnintendo: bluray is an entire class of quality above an iTunes 1080p
(8:05:56 PM) Gnintendo: (if they did it right)
(8:06:29 PM) Gnintendo: but the other big seller for me is the iTunes DRM makes it damned near impossible to do anything with those
(8:06:44 PM) Gnintendo: like, *watch them* with something other than iTunes
(8:06:52 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:06:56 PM) BitchtitsMcGone: why on earth would you want to do that
(8:07:09 PM) Robotzor: Apperu hates freedom
(8:07:12 PM) Gnintendo: gee, I don't know why I would want to watch it, that's just horrible
(8:07:32 PM) Gnintendo: why don't we restrict my ability to watch it, because that makes sense
(8:07:39 PM) Malleus: itunes is like the best media player ever so it's ok
(8:07:42 PM) BitchtitsMcGone: but you can watch it, on Glorious People's iTunes Application
(8:07:42 PM) Gnintendo: iTunes isn't even available on Linux (not that I would install it if it was)
(8:07:48 PM) Gnintendo: nope, I run Linux
(8:07:59 PM) Gnintendo: even if I wanted to use iTunes, I couldn't
(8:08:16 PM) Gnintendo: however, my laptop does have a bluray drive
(8:10:26 PM) Keratin_ [[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:10:57 PM) gale [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:12:24 PM) Yuls: Should I give DC Universe Online a try?
(8:13:00 PM) Karoru [~[email protected]] entered the room.
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(8:13:30 PM) Keratin left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:13:30 PM) Tracula left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:13:30 PM) gale is now known as gingerale
(8:13:45 PM) GrimLord [[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:13:45 PM) mode (+o GrimLord) by Angel
(8:15:20 PM) DimestoreMerlin [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:15:20 PM) thatbastardken [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:15:39 PM) Robotzor: debating whether or not to dinner
(8:15:48 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:16:01 PM) TimeTurner: Why not vote on a blast from Bronibooru's past! goldenkitsune nighttime twilight_sparkle
(8:16:01 PM) TimeTurner: http://www.bronibooru.com/post/show/2378
(8:16:25 PM) numsOic: dinner is a noun
(8:16:28 PM) numsOic: the related verb is dine
(8:16:34 PM) numsOic: nah jk
(8:16:45 PM) Robotzor: :snoop"
(8:16:50 PM) Robotzor: argh bad syntax
(8:16:59 PM) DimestoreMerlin: c- see me after class
(8:18:15 PM) garamir: [spoliers][/url]
(8:18:57 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:22:04 PM) FactoryFactory left the room (quit: Quit: Leaving.).
(8:24:36 PM) Gnintendo: here's a video of the bluray:
(8:24:37 PM) TimeTurner: My Little Pony Blu-ray Die komplette 1. Staffel :: 3:32 :: ★★★★★ :: 1,244 Views :: 49 Ratings
(8:24:38 PM) Yolostar: :3
(8:24:41 PM) Gnintendo: it's in German, though
(8:26:14 PM) Gnintendo: does the German show have a different intro sequence? :<
(8:27:01 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: the only difference is it's more efficient
(8:28:31 PM) Bobinator [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:28:51 PM) Berrybot: Applejack: Now look, there is two things you're good at: being a fashion diva and killing stuff. And right now, I'm gonna need you to do both of these things to help me.
(8:29:10 PM) Robotzor: the whole song is one long word
(8:29:32 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: that has capital letters strewn about haphazardly
(8:29:40 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: (German is a dumb language)
(8:29:59 PM) Gnintendo: people are saying the German version is slightly faster than the US version, and I don't know if it's true ^-.-^
(8:30:06 PM) Gnintendo: (like, that it's literally lightly sped up)
(8:30:27 PM) BartonFink: okay last LYAT link of the night viewtopic.php?f=31&t=3112
(8:30:35 PM) Corpus: My Little PorigsNeichenflackchuenziegl...
(8:30:35 PM) numsOic: German puts capital letters on nouns
(8:30:38 PM) numsOic: hope that helps
(8:30:44 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: you could say it's blitzing...
(8:30:53 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: OH THANK YOU NUMS
(8:31:07 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: CLEARLY I WAS HAVING A LEGITIMATE ISSUE WITH UNDERSTANDING THE GERMAN LANGUAGE
(8:31:17 PM) Corpus: also they have that thnig that looks like a B but is actually an S sound
(8:31:22 PM) Hi: how many pages do you want barton, I'll load up the post cannon
(8:31:57 PM) Contra_Calculus [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:32:33 PM) BartonFink: as many as u feel like
(8:32:56 PM) Gnintendo: Corpus: I mean, it literally is like 2 s's though
(8:33:04 PM) Corpus: yeah
(8:33:14 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: well we have the C
(8:33:19 PM) Corpus: they found a more efficient way to write two Ss
(8:33:23 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: which only makes sounds that K or S already make
(8:33:54 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:34:32 PM) Corpus: due germans utilize the X at all?
(8:34:36 PM) Corpus: do
(8:36:22 PM) RushupTop [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:38:24 PM) Dead_Horse: April Fools Day Wrap Up: LYAT sucked, horse_thread ruled, horse_thread permanent feed 24/7/365
(8:38:46 PM) BartonFink: dead horse post in my thread
(8:38:49 PM) BartonFink: you were good at yours
(8:39:01 PM) numsOic: what's horse_thread
(8:39:09 PM) numsOic: <rev_cobalt_impurity> OH THANK YOU NUMS
(8:39:09 PM) numsOic: <rev_cobalt_impurity> CLEARLY I WAS HAVING A LEGITIMATE ISSUE WITH UNDERSTANDING THE GERMAN LANGUAGE
(8:39:12 PM) numsOic: don't sarcasm me
(8:39:29 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: I'll snark whomever I please
(8:39:39 PM) Hi: i posted a bit in your thread barton
(8:39:41 PM) numsOic: <numsOic> don't sarcasm me
(8:39:51 PM) Haywire4: why didnt you post
(8:39:58 PM) numsOic: where do we post
(8:40:00 PM) numsOic: where do we post now
(8:40:01 PM) numsOic: where do we post
(8:40:03 PM) numsOic: - kurt cobain
(8:40:40 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:41:35 PM) HerrGeneral left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:44:03 PM) RevDrMosesPLester left the room (quit: Broken pipe).
(8:44:03 PM) Trixiebot: Rainbow Dash: What'd you read, "The Egghead's Guide to Running"? Did you stretch out your eye muscles to warm up? Get it? Eye muscles.
(8:44:41 PM) RevDrMosesPLester [[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:44:48 PM) DimestoreMerlin: Berrybot, help
(8:44:50 PM) Aracat: is that a fucking bear - kurt cobain
(8:44:50 PM) Robotzor: berrybot, any second now the medicine kicks in
(8:44:52 PM) Berrybot: yes people arrrgued to need help quickly, this laptops battery is my handwriting sssucks aaass.
(8:44:53 PM) Robotzor: argh
(8:45:09 PM) DimestoreMerlin: missed it by *that* much
(8:45:22 PM) Robotzor: a weekend away made me lose my edge
(8:46:31 PM) Octavia left the room (quit: Quit: Octavia).
(8:46:31 PM) RevDrMosesPLester left the room (quit: Connection reset by peer).
(11:47:04 AM) Tailspin:
(11:47:21 AM) Corpus: !pony
(11:47:23 AM) Aracat: PONY PUNCTURES THE POISON
(11:48:02 AM) [Insertnamehere] [[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:49:39 AM) Tailspin: Here's one in PNG if that format is better
(11:49:41 AM) Tailspin: Enjoy
(11:50:41 AM) Tailspin: Berrybot, ban
(11:50:45 AM) Berrybot: ban lobst for muteness
(11:52:17 AM) minusX: hahaha
(11:52:17 AM) TimeTurner: Dark Souls: Manly Miner Men :: 5:39 :: ★★★★★ :: 30,191 Views :: 1,693 Ratings
(11:52:18 AM) Yolostar: :3
(11:52:53 AM) terribly [[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:52:55 AM) Dead_Horse: i love turning on lyat
(11:53:01 AM) Dead_Horse: and seeing the lesbo thread furiously posting
(11:53:01 AM) Kalkkis: Berrybot, muteness
(11:53:02 AM) Berrybot: berrybot, muteness
(11:53:15 AM) Dead_Horse: and then i add one solid month of horse_ebooks and shoot em out of the water
(11:53:26 AM) Tailspin: Ah, horse_ebooks
(11:53:40 AM) Dead_Horse: high volume low effort posting
(11:54:00 AM) Suaimhneas: That video's great
(11:54:02 AM) terribly: question: has anyone ripped the sound archive/the sounds themselves to the latest update for the gameloft app (ver. 1.2.6)? i ask this because i wanted to see if any new lines featuring chrysalis were recorded, but the ios version hasn't been/has yet to be updated with the proper canterlot expansion, so i can't really check for myself.
(11:54:09 AM) MysticCave_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:54:23 AM) Dead_Horse: does the gameloft game not suck yet
(11:54:40 AM) Tailspin: Nope
(11:54:44 AM) Tailspin: It stills sucks
(11:55:03 AM) Tailspin: Though, if you hack it it can be fun watching the ponies be cute
(11:55:07 AM) terribly: whatever
(11:55:17 AM) ixnay: it won't even load for me now, it crashes on the loading screen
(11:55:28 AM) terribly: i just want some chrysalis voice clips (if any exist, that is)
(11:55:28 AM) Tailspin: I can't install it on my phone
(11:56:06 AM) Tailspin: I dunno, terribly, maybe wait until tommorow and ask in the thread
(11:56:16 AM) Tailspin: Don't know how many people here still play it
(11:56:49 AM) MysticCave left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(11:57:00 AM) Dead_Horse: minusX: that video
(11:57:06 AM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(11:57:17 AM) minusX: Yes
(11:57:52 AM) DoctorWheeze: berrybot, Applejack:
(11:57:53 AM) terribly: i already asked one mlp "chan" if any of them have and i've gotten no responses
(11:57:56 AM) Berrybot: applejack: "magic? blasphemy! fuckin apples, that's where everyone must wear fedoras indoors?
(11:59:08 AM) Lazy [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(11:59:08 AM) Westy543: [Greet]
(11:59:20 AM) Tailspin: Hey Lazy
(12:00:26 PM) Suaimhneas: Best part is the guy doing "Well what is it?" at the mushroom and getting laid out with one punch
(12:01:00 PM) Trixiebot: Fluttershy: Hi Spike. I'm Fluttershy. Wow! A talking dragon, and... what do dragons talk about?
(12:03:15 PM) ryaxnb left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(12:04:55 PM) Tailspin left the room (quit: Quit: Tailspin).
(12:05:40 PM) Lastair:
(12:06:39 PM) TimeTurner: Why not vote on a blast from Bronibooru's past! artist_unknown grayscale lineart twilight_sparkle zecora
(12:06:39 PM) TimeTurner: http://www.bronibooru.com/post/show/3371
(12:06:45 PM) Dead_Horse: SHAKE YA BASSET HOUND
(12:06:50 PM) Dead_Horse: WATCH YA SELF
(12:08:05 PM) Keratin [[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:09:46 PM) Haywire4: berrybot, tsundere
(12:09:59 PM) DongStrongly [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:10:40 PM) Dead_Horse: work, backing,
(12:10:56 PM) DongStrongly: guess who just got a shure pg58
(12:11:03 PM) Berrybot: exclusive: doctorwheeze was playing along to give sony a second story "rarity burns down or kill at once even saw a man running with the hatpony thing, some cultures i want tsundere cop partner already
(12:11:05 PM) DongStrongly: fuck ur mom thats who
(12:11:16 PM) Dead_Horse: give me your shure, dickhead
(12:11:20 PM) DongStrongly: i fucked ur mom
(12:11:21 PM) Dead_Horse: you dont need it where you're going
(12:11:21 PM) Corpus: !link yourmom
(12:11:21 PM) TimeTurner:
(12:11:38 PM) DongStrongly: guess who got a shure pg58 for $7
(12:11:50 PM) Dead_Horse: fuck you and give me that mic
(12:11:57 PM) Dead_Horse: watch me wreck the mic
(12:11:58 PM) Dead_Horse: watch me wreck the mic
(12:11:59 PM) Dead_Horse: watch me wreck the mic
(12:11:59 PM) DongStrongly: fuck u and ur horse
(12:12:00 PM) Dead_Horse: hahaha
(12:12:01 PM) Dead_Horse: psyche
(12:12:09 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:12:28 PM) Dead_Horse: but really fuck you with all the jealous hate in my ass
(12:12:44 PM) Dead_Horse: not like i have a PA system to even use mics with yet
(12:12:46 PM) DongStrongly: not my fault im a pro thrift store bargain hunter
(12:12:48 PM) garamir: this YouTube stream is amazing
(12:12:51 PM) Yuls: Don't do it, Dong. Don't fuck him or his horse.
(12:13:00 PM) DongStrongly: ur not the president of me
(12:13:07 PM) Dead_Horse: you're not my supervisor!
(12:13:18 PM) garamir: Yes, Prime Minister!
(12:13:38 PM) DongStrongly: i answer to only one man, and his name is jesus
(12:13:51 PM) DongStrongly: jesus ramirez at white castle
(12:14:06 PM) DongStrongly: he keeps calling me
(12:14:26 PM) Yuls: I am no man.
(12:14:29 PM) DongStrongly: i think he thinks im gay and because hes gay its apparently okay to keep putting his rancid boner in my butt
(12:16:35 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(12:17:19 PM) Geomancing: Maybe you should keep your pants on
(12:20:32 PM) Rhgr left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(12:21:06 PM) Lastair: !pony
(12:21:07 PM) Aracat: PONY JUDGES THE WOOL
(12:25:44 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:26:14 PM) Trixiebot: Rainbow Dash: Is this some kind of cruel joke?
(12:26:51 PM) Wulfolme: pony finds the wool wanting
(12:28:44 PM) minusX|away [[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:28:44 PM) mode (+ao minusX|away minusX|away) by Angel
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(12:29:49 PM) Wulfolme: is till think Angel is named after the bunny
(12:30:49 PM) Geomancing: Yep
(12:31:05 PM) Geomancing: Otherwise it'd just be ChanServ
(12:31:13 PM) Rhgr [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(12:31:14 PM) minusX|away: It's not named after the bunny
(12:31:19 PM) minusX|away: But I choose it for that reason
(12:31:24 PM) minusX|away is now known as minusX
(12:31:27 PM) Geomancing: Well it is now!
(12:31:44 PM) minusX: /botserv botlist
(12:39:55 PM) DongStrongly: oh man i keep feeling like im about to shit my pants but all that comes out are starburst still in the wrapper
(12:40:22 PM) Yuls: That is tragic.
(12:42:18 PM) Wulfolme: why is the internet company telling me my account is overdue
(12:42:22 PM) Wulfolme: I paid on thursday
(12:42:36 PM) Wulfolme: their internet sucks anyway
(12:42:48 PM) The account has disconnected and you are no longer in this chat. You will automatically rejoin the chat when the account reconnects.
(7:48:26 PM) The topic for #ponygoons is: Welcome to #ponygoonsunbridled official LYAT channel || IDW #6 is leaked, take discussion to spoiler forum || New Slice of Pony Life! || Also Double Rainboom I guess || MLP Season 4 airs Today trailer:
(7:48:27 PM) Westy543: [Greet] http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/ ... 5mggoa.swf
(7:48:37 PM) Gnintendo: has anybody heard anything about the quality of the German bluray?
(7:48:51 PM) Dead_Horse: ist wunderbar
(7:50:27 PM) ChocDooder: that almost sounds like a joke
(7:50:41 PM) ChocDooder: but Dead_Horse is never funny
(7:51:03 PM) Dead_Horse: i only speak the truth
(7:51:27 PM) Robotzor: hehe lyat is so burned out
(7:51:35 PM) Robotzor: like squeezing a dry sponge now
(7:52:07 PM) FactoryFactory: when it started it was like... a dozen posts a second
(7:52:08 PM) Gnintendo: Dead_Horse: where did you hear that?
(7:52:27 PM) Malleus [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(7:52:32 PM) Dead_Horse: on dur internet
(7:52:53 PM) Gnintendo: source? I would like to read it
(7:53:07 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(7:53:18 PM) Gnintendo: do we have any screenshots of the bluray yet?
(7:53:55 PM) ouranio_toxo_eksormisi_ipad left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(7:55:14 PM) Dead_Horse: Gnintendo: http://www.hasbro.com/mylittlepony/de_D ... 0DBD:de_DE
(7:55:18 PM) TimeTurner: My Little Pony Babypony Sweetie Belle | Nerf Blasters & Outdoor Toys
(7:55:32 PM) Dead_Horse: TimeTurner knows German!
(7:55:33 PM) Gnintendo: link is dead here
(7:55:34 PM) Dead_Horse: whoa
(7:55:35 PM) BartonFink: - Ted 'Theodore' Logan, "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure"
(7:55:56 PM) Quanta|Laptop: woah
(7:55:56 PM) BartonFink: - Ted 'Theodore' Logan, "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure"
(7:55:56 PM) BartonFink: Send Link
(7:56:01 PM) Corpus: literal sweetie bot
(7:56:19 PM) Gnintendo: owait there it goes
(7:56:39 PM) Quanta|Laptop: Berrybot, BartonFink]
(7:56:40 PM) Berrybot: [ban barrrtonfink]
(7:57:26 PM) Raganti: heh
(7:57:42 PM) numsOic [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(7:57:44 PM) FactoryFactory: Berrybot, Mabel
(7:57:45 PM) Gnintendo: so I guess nobody has gotten a hold of the bluray yet
(7:57:47 PM) Berrybot: no apparent reason, so even in reddit i'd rather write dan vs mabel
(7:57:47 PM) Wulfolme left the room (quit: Quit: http://www.mibbit.com ajax IRC Client).
(7:57:48 PM) Gnintendo: darn
(8:00:04 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:01:13 PM) Corpus: berrybot, baseball
(8:01:14 PM) Berrybot: contra: clearlyyy this baseball or nfl?
(8:02:20 PM) Gnintendo: I swear I'm the only one who wants the bluray ^-.-^
(8:02:23 PM) ChocDooder: !pony
(8:02:23 PM) Aracat: PONY CONSIDERS THE SUMMER
(8:02:38 PM) Gnintendo: one of the amazon bluray reviews says it's sped up compared to the original
(8:02:44 PM) Gnintendo: hard to say if it's founded
(8:02:46 PM) ChocDooder: <-.->
(8:02:57 PM) Malleus: pony on bluray?
(8:03:12 PM) Gnintendo: yes, season 1 came out on bluray 3 days ago
(8:03:15 PM) Gnintendo: (in Germany)
(8:03:22 PM) Gnintendo: but it has the English audio too
(8:03:30 PM) Malleus: huh that's neat
(8:03:35 PM) numsOic: what's lya
(8:03:35 PM) ChocDooder: dubbed and subbed
(8:03:35 PM) numsOic: t
(8:03:38 PM) numsOic: *lyat
(8:03:49 PM) DasNasty [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:03:53 PM) Dead_Horse:
(8:03:55 PM) TimeTurner: Bobobo-bo bo-bobo spoons!! :: 2:15 :: ★★★★★ :: 23,736 Views :: 128 Ratings
(8:03:56 PM) Dead_Horse: next phase
(8:04:08 PM) Dead_Horse: everyone becomes Bobobo-bo-bo-bobonies
(8:04:10 PM) Gnintendo: I'm waiting for info on the actual quality of it before I buy it
(8:04:23 PM) Gnintendo: so far it doesn't really seem like much of anybody even has the thing yet
(8:04:36 PM) Gnintendo: and I'm not sure that will ever really change, since it doesn't seem like too many people are interested
(8:05:02 PM) Trixiebot: Chancellor Puddinghead: Oh look you found my rock! I've been looking for it everywhere!
(8:05:07 PM) Robotzor: seriously
(8:05:14 PM) Malleus: I am vaguely interested just because I've been meaning to download ponies again
(8:05:24 PM) Malleus: but I guess quality is fine as it is now
(8:05:36 PM) Gnintendo: right, so not very many people really want it
(8:05:49 PM) Gnintendo: bluray is an entire class of quality above an iTunes 1080p
(8:05:56 PM) Gnintendo: (if they did it right)
(8:06:29 PM) Gnintendo: but the other big seller for me is the iTunes DRM makes it damned near impossible to do anything with those
(8:06:44 PM) Gnintendo: like, *watch them* with something other than iTunes
(8:06:52 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:06:56 PM) BitchtitsMcGone: why on earth would you want to do that
(8:07:09 PM) Robotzor: Apperu hates freedom
(8:07:12 PM) Gnintendo: gee, I don't know why I would want to watch it, that's just horrible
(8:07:32 PM) Gnintendo: why don't we restrict my ability to watch it, because that makes sense
(8:07:39 PM) Malleus: itunes is like the best media player ever so it's ok
(8:07:42 PM) BitchtitsMcGone: but you can watch it, on Glorious People's iTunes Application
(8:07:42 PM) Gnintendo: iTunes isn't even available on Linux (not that I would install it if it was)
(8:07:48 PM) Gnintendo: nope, I run Linux
(8:07:59 PM) Gnintendo: even if I wanted to use iTunes, I couldn't
(8:08:16 PM) Gnintendo: however, my laptop does have a bluray drive
(8:10:26 PM) Keratin_ [[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:10:57 PM) gale [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:12:24 PM) Yuls: Should I give DC Universe Online a try?
(8:13:00 PM) Karoru [~[email protected]] entered the room.
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(8:13:30 PM) gale is now known as gingerale
(8:13:45 PM) GrimLord [[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:13:45 PM) mode (+o GrimLord) by Angel
(8:15:20 PM) DimestoreMerlin [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:15:20 PM) thatbastardken [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:15:39 PM) Robotzor: debating whether or not to dinner
(8:15:48 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:16:01 PM) TimeTurner: Why not vote on a blast from Bronibooru's past! goldenkitsune nighttime twilight_sparkle
(8:16:01 PM) TimeTurner: http://www.bronibooru.com/post/show/2378
(8:16:25 PM) numsOic: dinner is a noun
(8:16:28 PM) numsOic: the related verb is dine
(8:16:34 PM) numsOic: nah jk
(8:16:45 PM) Robotzor: :snoop"
(8:16:50 PM) Robotzor: argh bad syntax
(8:16:59 PM) DimestoreMerlin: c- see me after class
(8:18:15 PM) garamir: [spoliers][/url]
(8:18:57 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:22:04 PM) FactoryFactory left the room (quit: Quit: Leaving.).
(8:24:36 PM) Gnintendo: here's a video of the bluray:
(8:24:37 PM) TimeTurner: My Little Pony Blu-ray Die komplette 1. Staffel :: 3:32 :: ★★★★★ :: 1,244 Views :: 49 Ratings
(8:24:38 PM) Yolostar: :3
(8:24:41 PM) Gnintendo: it's in German, though
(8:26:14 PM) Gnintendo: does the German show have a different intro sequence? :<
(8:27:01 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: the only difference is it's more efficient
(8:28:31 PM) Bobinator [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:28:51 PM) Berrybot: Applejack: Now look, there is two things you're good at: being a fashion diva and killing stuff. And right now, I'm gonna need you to do both of these things to help me.
(8:29:10 PM) Robotzor: the whole song is one long word
(8:29:32 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: that has capital letters strewn about haphazardly
(8:29:40 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: (German is a dumb language)
(8:29:59 PM) Gnintendo: people are saying the German version is slightly faster than the US version, and I don't know if it's true ^-.-^
(8:30:06 PM) Gnintendo: (like, that it's literally lightly sped up)
(8:30:27 PM) BartonFink: okay last LYAT link of the night viewtopic.php?f=31&t=3112
(8:30:35 PM) Corpus: My Little PorigsNeichenflackchuenziegl...
(8:30:35 PM) numsOic: German puts capital letters on nouns
(8:30:38 PM) numsOic: hope that helps
(8:30:44 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: you could say it's blitzing...
(8:30:53 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: OH THANK YOU NUMS
(8:31:07 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: CLEARLY I WAS HAVING A LEGITIMATE ISSUE WITH UNDERSTANDING THE GERMAN LANGUAGE
(8:31:17 PM) Corpus: also they have that thnig that looks like a B but is actually an S sound
(8:31:22 PM) Hi: how many pages do you want barton, I'll load up the post cannon
(8:31:57 PM) Contra_Calculus [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:32:33 PM) BartonFink: as many as u feel like
(8:32:56 PM) Gnintendo: Corpus: I mean, it literally is like 2 s's though
(8:33:04 PM) Corpus: yeah
(8:33:14 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: well we have the C
(8:33:19 PM) Corpus: they found a more efficient way to write two Ss
(8:33:23 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: which only makes sounds that K or S already make
(8:33:54 PM) Timmux_ left the room (quit: Ping timeout).
(8:34:32 PM) Corpus: due germans utilize the X at all?
(8:34:36 PM) Corpus: do
(8:36:22 PM) RushupTop [~[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:38:24 PM) Dead_Horse: April Fools Day Wrap Up: LYAT sucked, horse_thread ruled, horse_thread permanent feed 24/7/365
(8:38:46 PM) BartonFink: dead horse post in my thread
(8:38:49 PM) BartonFink: you were good at yours
(8:39:01 PM) numsOic: what's horse_thread
(8:39:09 PM) numsOic: <rev_cobalt_impurity> OH THANK YOU NUMS
(8:39:09 PM) numsOic: <rev_cobalt_impurity> CLEARLY I WAS HAVING A LEGITIMATE ISSUE WITH UNDERSTANDING THE GERMAN LANGUAGE
(8:39:12 PM) numsOic: don't sarcasm me
(8:39:29 PM) rev_cobalt_impurity: I'll snark whomever I please
(8:39:39 PM) Hi: i posted a bit in your thread barton
(8:39:41 PM) numsOic: <numsOic> don't sarcasm me
(8:39:51 PM) Haywire4: why didnt you post
(8:39:58 PM) numsOic: where do we post
(8:40:00 PM) numsOic: where do we post now
(8:40:01 PM) numsOic: where do we post
(8:40:03 PM) numsOic: - kurt cobain
(8:40:40 PM) Timmux_ [~[email protected]] entered the room.
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(8:44:03 PM) RevDrMosesPLester left the room (quit: Broken pipe).
(8:44:03 PM) Trixiebot: Rainbow Dash: What'd you read, "The Egghead's Guide to Running"? Did you stretch out your eye muscles to warm up? Get it? Eye muscles.
(8:44:41 PM) RevDrMosesPLester [[email protected]] entered the room.
(8:44:48 PM) DimestoreMerlin: Berrybot, help
(8:44:50 PM) Aracat: is that a fucking bear - kurt cobain
(8:44:50 PM) Robotzor: berrybot, any second now the medicine kicks in
(8:44:52 PM) Berrybot: yes people arrrgued to need help quickly, this laptops battery is my handwriting sssucks aaass.
(8:44:53 PM) Robotzor: argh
(8:45:09 PM) DimestoreMerlin: missed it by *that* much
(8:45:22 PM) Robotzor: a weekend away made me lose my edge
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-
Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Generous Souls by Kkat
"We stand at the dawn of a new golden age. Where others merely survive, we thrive! And while I have led your efforts, it has been by your own strength... Because, yes, freedom is what we all work towards."
Alone.
I had given my possessions, even my barding, to Calamity. Knight Poppyseed had brought me soiled, filthy slave cloths to wrap myself in. Thick wrappings had gone around my right foreleg to hide my PipBuck, complete with twigs and bloodstains to suggest my leg had been cruelly wounded. (If anypony asked, I intended to tell them I'd been run through with a piece of rebar.)
Then I had been shackled. (As with the slavers before, Knight Poppyseed had been unable to shackle me properly at the hoof thanks to my PipBuck, so she had locked the manacles above my knees.) I had floated myself into the cage of a slave wagon and bedded down in moldy hay filled with small, itchy bugs. It had taken only minutes to become wretchedly uncomfortable. Between that, and nearly getting fucked in the tail by a giant flaming Pinkie Pie the evening before, I had been deemed to look decently pathetic.
I had been allowed to attach a few bobby pins to my rags, but I would have to hope I could find a screwdriver somewhere on the other side of The Wall.
Then, with worried goodbyes, my companions left me alone. I was to lay there and wait for a member of Red Eye's slavers whom the Steel Rangers had sufficiently bribed (or perhaps ensured the cooperation of in less wholesome ways) to come and get the slave wagon.
I'd forgotten what it felt like to be alone. I had spent my whole previous life alone. I hadn't had any friends growing up; and my mother, as much as I loved her, wasn't the sort of parent a filly could feel "together" with. Alone is cold and dull and miserable. It is a void that aches to be filled. And the little hobbies and distractions that I had turned to had never really filled that hole. Because it was a hole that could only be filled with companionship.
Growing up, the closest I had come to that was music -- the singing on the Stable Two broadcast. At least with music, there was another pony involved who was trying to make a connection. And I could pretend that pony was trying to make a connection specifically with me, not just anypony who was listening. The illusion was never perfect, and it couldn't be held beyond the song. But while the music was playing, the mirage of friendship helped protect me against the cold.
Needless to say, it was the songs of Velvet Remedy which I had cherished the most. I had even fallen in love, I think, with my dream of her. I still remembered the hurt when my ridiculous and unrealistic mental image of her was shattered by the real thing standing in a train car, a non-prisoner in a slaver town. And even then, I think, I still clung to little fragments of my dream-Remedy until the day she shot me.
That said, I wouldn't have traded my very real friendship with the actual pony for anything, much less for a relationship with my two-dimensional daydream. What I had was better. Far better. Because it was real.
When I left Stable Two, my life changed forever. And the most drastic change wasn't the vast open wasteland, or the sickly sunlight that pushed its way through the clouds. It wasn't the horrors and wickedness and cruelty I had seen, or the daunting amount of pain I had suffered, or even the growing river of pony blood drowning my hooves.
The most drastic change was friendship. And it started just a few days out of the Stable with a pony named Calamity.
Calamity was unlike any pony I had ever met. He was fearless and noble and just in a way that I could only aspire to. And he cared about me in a way nopony, not even my mother, ever did. He was willing to stand by me, even when I was being foolish and wrong. Not that we never disagreed, because we did often enough. But he gave me the benefit of the doubt. He trusted me and he was somepony I knew I could trust in return.
I freely admit that I had been jealous when Calamity and Velvet Remedy had started to gravitate towards each other. (And, in retrospect, I have to wonder: was my conviction that they were a couple already accurate or a self-fulfilling prophesy?) How foalish I was to feel that way. But friendship was and is still new to me, and I had many lessons to learn about it. (And many, many more to go, if the sheer number of Spike's stories are to be believed.)
Only after I had come to accept their closeness, and take comfort in it, was my heart really open enough to embrace Homage. I had friendship, but the void goes deeper than that. I wanted more than companionship. I yearned for love and physical intimacy.
I will also admit that when Homage first opened the possibility, I was drawn to her out of desperation. But that changed. She changed that. Likewise, I would not blame a pony for thinking that our relationship had been fast and brief. But while it is true that I had not met her in coat and mane until Tenpony Tower, I had gotten to know much of her before seeing her face-to-face, as she had gotten to know me. In truth, I have known Homage almost as long as I have known Calamity.
True, I had not known her deeply and personally until Tenpony Tower, but who really knows their friends well in the first few weeks? And I can safely say that the connection we had built before meeting was laid on a solid foundation. I can say this thanks in great part to the honesty that I realize Homage embodies. The Homage that I grew to know as DJ Pon3 was and is the real Homage. Not all of her, granted, and not without trappings. But real all the same.
Homage knows of me at my best, but has also seen me at my worst. And instead of being scared away, she has embraced me and let me in. She has held and comforted me. And she has done so much more, allowing me an intimacy that I had only daydreamed about before, and usually to my private shame. With Homage, I don't feel ashamed.
Having seen the memories of SteelHooves, a melancholy realization had crept into my thoughts. He was the only of my companions who has been in a similar relationship. (Yet... unless Calamity and Velvet Remedy have managed to be up to things with a far greater degree of sneakiness and stealth than I attribute to either of them.) Like me, he had a companion whom he could trust to be open and honest with him. And, like me, he chose to keep things from her. I am quite sure he did not reveal to Applejack the murder he committed. Whereas, in my case, I have kept from Homage... well, another murder SteelHooves committed.
Thinking on these things, I suddenly found the parallel downright creepy.
SteelHooves once told me that I would learn that he wasn't a "better pony" -- which I certainly have seen is true -- just like she did. And while I can only guess at what befell their relationship, I do know that he and Applejack were together the day the bombs fell. I must assume they at least worked at mending any damage his dark secrets had caused. And I also know that, ultimately, she left him. She chose her family over him, and she left him behind.
And he's been living with that abandonment for two hundred years. Alone.
With an aching heart and a sense of unease, I found myself desperately needing to talk to Homage. With any luck, I would be able to do so as soon as my friends had the override installed. I wondered if I would be able to speak to her just by talking to the air. But from what I had heard, it seemed more likely that I would need to get to the station myself to have real communication with her. Either way, I was determined to come clean. For better or for worse.
Unlike the hobbies and distractions of my lonely youth, friendship really can fill the void enough for a pony to be happy. And while I wouldn't normally consider my experiences in the Equestrian Wasteland to be happy ones, I really have been happier out here than I ever was in Stable Two.
Being with friends is a blanket against the cold. A bulwark that makes you stronger. A connection that makes you bigger. Without friends, I was exposed, weak and small.
And, on an unrelated note, itchy.
• • •
Chain-link fencing crackled with energy, surrounding a barricaded outer gate. Guards watched with amusement as the slaver pulled my wagon up to The Wall.
"Only one?" a guard mare called out. She was heavily barded and wore a battle saddle bearing four combat shotguns. The sight made me cringe. "A whole wagon for just one? Been slacking, Gnash?"
The slaver pulling my wagon just grunted. I scratched at my neck with a hindhoof and tried not to wince every time the wagon jolted as it rolled over the broken, rocky streets. I unrealistically hoped that slaves were given baths.
"And such a small one too," a guard buck in similar barding called out. I noticed that I couldn't see any weapons on him, save for his horn and hooves. I wondered if that made him less or more dangerous? "If it wasn't a unicorn, I'd say toss it back in the lake."
Itching badly, I really wished I would be tossed in a lake. It occurred to me, however, that this was not the first time a slaver had suggested unicorns were considered an extra-valuable prize. Not entirely surprising, considering that the unicorns in Stable Two were often expected to go into technical work thanks to the fine manipulation our magic allowed. I wondered what work Red Eye was putting us to. I'd probably find out soon enough.
While quadruple-combat-shotgun-pony kept aim on me, her male counterpart threw a lever, killing the electric crackle of the chain-link fence. He hoofed a button, and a section of the fence began to roll open with considerable clatter. Quadruple-combat-shotgun-pony continued to keep her battle saddle trained on me, a single unicorn pony shackled and caged, as did two snipers hidden within steel bunker towers on either side of The Wall's inner gate. The heads of patrol ponies could be seen walking the parameter of the wall on a raised platform just behind it. Even knowing me, it felt like a ridiculous amount of overkill.
A griffin arced overhead, checking out the latest arrival, and flew away laughing.
"By the you-know-who, Gnash, when I first saw this one, I thought you'd bucked your horseshoes and actually brought in a filly!" the mare snickered, making me feel ever smaller. "I was thinking maybe I ought to blow your head off before Stern got ahold of you."
Gnash, my "chauffeur", merely grunted again.
"What's this?" the guard buck asked, peering in at me. His horn glowed and a jagged, rusty spear jutted between the bars at me. I cringed back. The unicorn frowned at me and tipped the spear so the head of it caught on the blood-soaked wrapping around my PipBuck and pulled it away.
Crap! I wasn't even in the gate and the plan was falling apart.
"Oh," he said with a smiling grunt. "Think you're a clever pony, do you?" He gave me a cruel leer. "Let's see how clever you feel inside."
Inside? Did he intend to rape me, I wondered with a shot of panic, or just let me through the gate?
The guard mare shot him a look and then gave a cruel laugh. "Oh please, do it! Hell, here, let me help hold her down!" She gave her companion an evil smirk, "Fifteen minutes of fun... if that... and you'll be scratching at the haybugs biting your sheath for a week!"
I felt suddenly thankful for the infested hay.
The buck backed up with a fearful look, then scowled at the mare. "You'd really enjoy that, wouldn't you?"
"More than life itself." What a disgusting couple.
"Bah!" He hit the button to close the outer gate and waved a hoof towards the sniper ponies. "Let it through!" He gave me one more look, this one barely containing revulsion. His eyes moved to my PipBuck, now partially visible through the wrappings. "Oh, and tag her to see Doc Slaughter. She's got one of them leg terminals that are a bitch to get off."
For a pony who had been so sorely disappointed that she had a PipBuck for a cutie mark, I was remarkably terrified at the thought I might lose it. As best I could parse the buck's attitude, these slavers had seen PipBuck's before. And had ways to remove them.
The buck threw the lever and the fence around us once again crackled and hummed.
With a rending grind, the huge metal inner gate of The Wall began to lower on massive chains -- a drawbridge, complete with a moat on the inner side of The Wall. My PipBuck began to click urgently as it picked up radiation seeping out of the sludge. The Wall was clearly meant to keep anypony from getting out as much as prevent ponies from getting in.
Beyond, I got my first glimpse of inner city Fillydelphia. Slave masters stood guard over mesh-covered workpits, wearing barding and gas masks, pointing weapons down to where poor ponies labored beyond the point of exhaustion. I couldn't tell what work they were doing, but I could tell they were filthy, sick and trembling.
A chimney rose out of the nearest workpit. Hellish, red-tinted exhaust poured out of it. I gagged on the stench of unwashed ponies and noxious fumes.
A swath of bright yellow and green fluttered around the chimney before perching on a nearby pile of rubble. Pyrelight! She cocked her head at me.
I was not alone.
• • •
"Behold!" called out the voice of Red Eye. "We stand on the threshold of a new dawn. With every factory we recover, every mill we rebuild, we move one big step forward towards an Equestria where our children can live in the safety and comfort of modern cities, not grovel in the dilapidated ruins of the past. With the stone and glass and steel forged by these, we can rebuild the homes and towers and lanes of mass transportation that will bestow freedom and prosperity upon generations to come! This, my children, is the very last generation that needs to cringe in caves and scramble for two-hundred-year-old scraps of food."
The Fillydelphia broadcast poured out of speakers everywhere. The messages and music were non-stop, the constant companion of both slave masters and slaves.
Gnash pulled the wagon past several more workpits before drawing to a stop in what had once been a chariot lot. I coughed. My PipBuck was not shy about informing me that the gas pouring out of the workpit smokestacks was poisonous. The guards had gas masks, but they apparently couldn't spare any for the slaves. I trembled with anger. The rate of attrition here must be unconscionable.
The lot was full of cage wagons, most of them recently emptied by other wagon-pullers who were amassing slaves in an open area of the pavement. The gate I had come through was not the only one, and I was not the only new arrival.
Gnash opened my cage and stuck his head in, biting on the chain between my shackles and hauling me roughly out. I was dragged into a throng of suffering ponies, each of whom had clearly been through weeks of torment before even getting here.
A large, black griffin in dark-grey Talon barding landed on the roof adjacent to the chariot lot and turned her white-feathered head to scowl at us. Above her head rose a banner that fluttered in the wind: the Red Eye flag. She had a whip curled under one wing and an anti-machine rifle strapped to her back.
"The work is hard, yes," Red Eye's voice continued out of the nearest speaker as the griffin above scanned the miserable group of ponies beneath her. "But only through the generous gift of our efforts can our children, and our children's children, have a better world. We must selflessly give all we can so that a New Equestria may rise. And that is not an easy thing to ask."
Honestly, Red Eye, I don't see much asking going on.
"Tribals care only about their own small groups, unable or unwilling to view a larger picture. Raiders and Steel Rangers are the epitome of selfishness, caring only for their own base desires and outdated codes, taking what they want from the rest of us and giving nothing back.
"But here, today, and every day, we give back. We create. Where others only know how to tear down, we build! And that, my children, is how we pave the way for..."
One of the other wagon-pullers shouted at us, making many ponies cringe and one actually burst into tears. "Make yourselves presentable, you worthless mules!"
The griffin's expression suddenly turned from something resembling mild contempt to cold anger. She drew the massive anti-machine rifle faster than I would have thought possible. The report of the gun was like the righteous anger of Luna. The wagon-puller was ripped in two, the bullet punching though the asphalt and burying itself deep in the ground.
A few of the ponies screamed. A magenta mare with an orange mane began backpedaling, trying to keep her hooves out of the spreading pool of blood, her terror-stricken face splattered with what looked like part of the dead slaver's stomach lining.
"...We are not animals. We are not zebras. We are ponies! We have a better nature, and a higher calling. We know that the road is hard, and yet we stand and face the challenge. We know that many of us may suffer and perish and never taste the sweet fruits of our labor. But out of generosity and hope, we give of ourselves anyway, so that others may know a better future. Because that future is worth any sacrifice! And yes, the New Equestria does demand sacrifices."
Okay... but pony sacrifices?
Red Eye's speech ended. The music began again, uplifting and regal. The griffin looked not at us, but at the cowering slavers.
"You do not interrupt when Red Eye is talking!"
She then turned to us. "My name is Stern," the griffin stated, looking down on her new slaves. "And this is my town."
• • •
"You are workers," Stern informed us as she paced along the rooftop above. "You work towards the building of a brighter tomorrow, towards the New Equestria which will be populated by the Unity. Your work is the gift that you give to the future. And you can either give it willingly, or Red Eye will give it for you."
I found myself conflicted. I seethed at the treatment of the slave ponies, which amounted to nothing short of slow and torturous murder. And yet... I understood Red Eye's goal. Maybe not all of it. The whole Unity thing was getting downright creepy. But the progress? The striving to make the world a better place at any cost? The same drive had left me flank-deep in blood, and I was not apologetic for it.
Red Eye will put you to work doing things we probably should be working together towards anyway. (Although by choice and in safer conditions!) Me? I'll put a bullet through your head if you are a raping, murdering blight on ponykind. In both cases, we had decided that ponies who don't choose to live their lives the right way had forfeited their right to live freely, if at all.
There was a difference. There was a line between Red Eye and me. It just wasn't as thick as I would have liked. Even so, it didn't change the pain I was seeing and hearing all around me, and that these horrors had to stop.
"But most of you don't really care about the future, do you? I can see it in your eyes. You don't give a crap about other ponies. You just care about your 'freedom'. Well, then, listen closely, because I'm going to tell you how to free yourselves," Stern said, her voice gruff with disgust and conviction. Part of me wanted to cry out that I did care. But a much stronger part of me listened intently. Unless I could find a screwdriver and an unguarded place to hide, this might be my best chance.
"You earn it!" Of course you do, I thought. But Stern was quick to expound on that concept. "You can toil in the mills and the factories and the workhouses until you drop. Or you can volunteer for more dangerous jobs. Those who do are rewarded. Red Eye is a very generous stallion. He gives you three options."
The griffin held up three razor-sharp talons and began ticking them down. "You can choose to work on a Stable Recovery Team. There are a lot of Stables in the Fillydelphia area, each rich in resources. But Stables tend to be dangerous. They often have their own security or their own... unique dangers."
I shuddered, feeling a fresh wave of fury.
The griffin scowled. "And of course there are the Steel Rangers, who are also after the same prizes. And before you start getting any wrong ideas, let me warn you: the Steel Rangers have adopted a slaughter first attitude towards anyone that stands in their way of reclaiming old Stable-Tec property for themselves. They will slaughter you just as quickly as they will slaughter us. And in those rare cases where the Stables have still-living residents, they usually slaughter them too. At least Red Eye gives them the same options he gives you."
My eyes went wide, my jaw dropping. Luna rape them with Her horn!
"You work two years on a Stable Recovery Team and survive, and Red Eye promises you freedom. You'll be tagged and will be allowed to live whatever life you chose." The griffin gave a knowing smirk, "So long as you don't decide to become a bother."
Two years. That... was not an option. But I wasn't really thinking about that. I was thinking about how Blueberry Sabre and I were going to have some very, very harsh words. I was already considering what ammo to use as punctuation.
Curling her second claw, Stern continued, "You can work in the Fillydelphia crater. Red Eye has need of radioactive materials, and that crater is a treasure trove of them." If Blueberry Sabre was to be believed, and it would have been stupid for her to lie about my objectives, then I knew why Red Eye was mining the crater. He needed material for his Rad-Engine. But working at ground zero of a megaspell strike... even in radiation-protective barding, that was a death sentence!
"Red Eye has stated that any pony who works for six months' worth of full work days in the Fillydelphia Crater will be treated for radiation sickness and freed." A falsely kind smile crossed her beak. "But since he is such a charitable stallion, Red Eye has recently reduced it to only four months." I suspected most ponies suffered fatal poisoning within three.
"Your third option," Stern informed us, holding up the remaining talon, "Is to fight in The Pit. The Pit is arena combat, pony against pony. Each Event has six rounds, and there is usually an Event once every week. More if Red Eye himself graces us with his presence."
The griffin stared down at us, assessing the pathetic herd of new slaves. "If you survive six consecutive events, not only do you gain your beloved freedom, but you gain an honored place in Red Eye's army!" She stood up tall, glowering. "But frankly, none of you lot look worthy of such an honor."
The black-bodied griffin snorted. "Still, I am honor-bound to give you the option. Just try not to make it too easy for your opponent if you do." Then, scowling yet again at us, she warned, "These are the ways to earn your freedom. But there are two more ways to gain it. You may, at any time, choose to join the Unity. If you do, your fate will be in the hooves of the Goddess," she said the word as if it was distasteful. "Or, of course, you can gain freedom through death.
"Try anything stupid, try to rebel, try to fight, try to run... any of those are fine ways to die horribly." Stern fixed us all with a stare. "But that is all they are."
• • •
Welcome to the Fillydelphia FunFarm!
A weathered, oversized image of Pinkie Pie's head and forehooves peeked over the top of the arched, wrought-iron gateway. Beyond lay the decaying ruins of what had once been a massive amusement park. I remembered it from the poster in SteelHooves' shack. ("Everything the Grand Galloping Gala should have been! Every day! Forever!")
We were herded through the gateway. A fair bulk of the old amusement park had been converted into the slaves' quarters. I had been assigned a straw mat somewhere in an enclosure where ponies once galloped around in mock-ups of plow wagons, ramming into each other for fun. (Being new, I didn't rate four walls, only a roof. And I was told to be glad for that. The rain in Fillydelphia, they warned me, burned.)
On the path up to the gateway, I had spotted slaves harnessed to actual plow wagons, pushing mounds of rubble as they pulled a chariot behind them, carrying the slave master pony who whipped them if they weren't going fast enough. Or if the slave master liked the sounds the poor pony made when struck brutally with the lash. Or if she was just bored.
I wondered if any of those tortured ponies spent their nights sleeping in the Bumper-Plow Pit. Sometimes, irony sucked.
Once, colts and fillies would drag their parents from miles around to romp and play in the silly rides and spectacles the Fillydelphia FunFarm provided. Now it was a monstrous monument to slavery and death, wrapped in garish, peeling paint.
Pinkie Pie wouldn't approve.
Above us, three Pinkie Pie Balloons floated, in constant orbit over the decayed amusement park. One moved freely. The other two were anchored, one apiece, to the two tallest buildings still standing within the curtain of The Wall. The first was leashed to an old hotel, beaten but unbroken, which towered just a few blocks beyond the eastern edge of the Fillydelphia FunFarm. The huge lettering on the twentieth-floor balcony was nearly rusted away and had long ago lost its lighting; but even without it, I would have recognized the Alpha-Omega Hotel from its small picture in that old news article I'd seen a couple days ago.
The second Pinkie Pie Balloon was bound to a building rising out of the FunFarm itself. It was clearly stylized as a barn, looking like nothing so much as a colossal version of the old building on Sweet Apple Acres. The first floors were covered in gaily-colored murals and fairytale characters, most of which had slid from the Precipice of Childlike Frivolity into the Valley of Disturbing Imagery. The roller coaster that looped all about the amusement park actually passed through the building on the sixth floor. A huge radio tower jutted up from the top, modified to look like a comically oversized weathervane.
I realized that I was looking at the Fillydelphia Hub of the Ministry of Morale.
I should have known. Pinkie Pie and her Ministry had created the sprite-bots. The source of the sprite-bots' broadcast had to be a Ministry Hub somewhere. It wasn't powerful enough to reach all the way to Manehattan, but with each sprite-bot re-broadcasting the signal, the Ministry of Morale's reach had been effectively infinite. When Red Eye had taken the Hub, he had simply added his sermons to the playlist. The music itself was the same songs that the Ministry of Morale had been broadcasting since before the war.
As if mocking me for my revelation, the plucky harpsichord number playing over the speakers suffered a sudden influx of lyrics:
"You gotta share. You gotta care. It's the right thing to do!"
I really, really wanted a gun.
"Oh look," called out a blood-red mare whose dark green mane was done up in spikes. She was lounging on the spectator railing of the Bumper-Plow arena. "Fresh meat!"
The slave master ponies walking with us took their leave. Gnash gave me a parting look that I couldn't interpret. Then we were alone with the other slaves. Many paid us no mind. Most that even spared us a glance did so with sad, resigned expressions.
I felt sickened at the sight of several of them -- many were shedding their manes and coats, revealing boils or discolored flesh beneath, or suffered from withered limbs or sloughing facial features -- the slowly dying victims of radiation poisoning.
And then there were the bullies.
The blood-red mare slid from the railing and stalked towards us. "Listen up, my little grubworms," she barked. Her cutie mark looked like an eyeball on a pike. I shuddered, wondering just how you end up getting that as a cutie mark. Blueberry Sabre had warned that I might have more to fear from the inmates than the guards.
Another pony joined her: a hulking, piss-colored male pony with an ugly scar and the cutie mark of a very angry yellow flower. (I got the absurd feeling that the flower wanted to kill me.)
The school in Stable Two had bullies, and these ponies reminded me of them. No matter how powerless we all were, they could find power by making the rest of us even more miserable. It was contemptible at best. With everypony suffering, I felt it was vile that some of the slaves themselves would go out of their way to make it worse for others. I had learned that best way to gain strength was through friendship. Shouldn't we all be working together? But... this was faster and easier for the selfish.
"I'm Blood," the appropriately-colored mare with the spiked mane announced. Then, introducing the over-muscled buck, "And this is Daff." The lug stared at us, his eyes lingering on the mares.
"I know y'all just heard Stern's big spiel 'bout how Fillydelphia is her town," Blood said. (Which I bet she wouldn't have dared if the griffin was anywhere nearby.) "Well the Bumper-Plow Pit is our domain!"
"What a glorious empire you have there," I snarked under my breath before I could stop myself.
Blood looked like she'd been slapped. "Ex-cuuuuse me?" She trotted up, eyes narrowing. "Did you just talk? Because it sounded like you talked, but I don't remember telling you to."
Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? Well, at least maybe if she kicked the crap outta me, she'd manage to crush all the biting bugs in my coat while she was at it.
Then again... maybe it was a good thing that I'd gotten her attention. If I became the bullies' new chew-toy, then that would spare the other slaves at least some of their attentions. I'd faced a dragon; I could take the crap these two could dish.
Okay, I ran away from a dragon. But that's just getting nitpicky.
"Well, did you just talk?" Blood demanded sticking her snout against mine. She had to lower her head a little to do so, something I could see she enjoyed. My small stature made me a particularly appealing target.
"I.... I just said... what a glorious empire you have. You know... with the crumbling amusement park ride," I stammered, cringing back. "You must be s-so proud!"
Her eyes widened. "Oh... you. Are. Begging. Me to mess you up." She lifted up a hoof and brought it down on the chain of my manacles, driving my face into the dirt. "Okay, filly, this is life from now on. You speak when I tell you to speak. You lick where I tell you to lick. And you give me half of your food rations every night. And maybe, just maybe, I'll keep you for myself rather than letting Daff here have you every Luna-damned night until he splits you in two!"
I looked up at her, putting on a pitiful expression.
"Daff," she called back to the piss-colored brute. "Fuck her up bad!"
The lumbering buck approached me with a nasty grin. "With pleasure!" He spun and kicked. HARD!
Pain exploded through my breast. I found myself flying back through the air. I crashed through the rotted remains of what had once been a hot dog stand (with a picture of Pinkie Pie slathering on the mustard).
I was struggling to get onto my feet when he slammed into me at full gallop, sending me sprawling. I thought I heard a rib crack. Breathing was becoming painful.
The buck trotted up to me as I fought to catch my breath and reared up. Without armor, I was afraid he'd break my back, so I twisted. He compensated, his hooves coming down in my stomach, knocking any wind I had out of me. I coughed, tasting blood.
The huge buck positioned himself over me.
My horn glowed softly as I wrapped a very tender part of him in a telekinetic sheath and gave him a warning squeeze.
Daff stopped abruptly.
"Here's the deal," I whispered, half moaning in pain. "You decide I'm not worthy of your... attentions. That way, you get to save face. And in return, I don't show you just how good I am at this particular trick." I squeezed a little harder and the buck jolted with pain, sweating now. "And you keep... yourself... to yourself and away from all the other slaves, or the deal's off." A slight bit tighter and Daff nodded fervently, tears spilling from his eyes as he tried not to scream.
"Deal?" I asked, even though I knew he had already agreed as I gave the telekinetic field a slight twist. His reaction was utterly worth it.
"Good," I growled, my mouth tasting of warm copper. I released him, dropping my head back as my vision swam. I needed a medical pony. I needed Velvet Remedy.
Shaking himself, Daff made a show of staring me up and down, then dismissing me with a huff. "Fuck that!" he said too loudly. "She's so tiny it would be like fucking a kid!" He turned around. Blood was looking at him with one eye narrowed in disbelief.
Daff glanced back over his shoulder at me, snorted, apparently deciding what he could and couldn't get away with. He drove his right hindhoof back with a gruesomely hard half-buck that landed directly between my hindlegs. Then trotted away, basking in the blood-colored mare's obvious approval.
I'd never screamed so hard in my life.
• • •
"I have walked through the streets of Fillydelphia, cleared of rubble, and seen the steel mill producing steel, the textiles mill producing cloth, the power plant producing power." Red Eye's voice sounded proud through the tinny speakers on steel poles that jutted into the ruddy evening air. "It is a start, but such a glorious start. And we owe it all... to each other."
"What is this?" I asked, half whimpering, as a bowl of indescribable mushy stuff was shoved in front of my nose. The smell made my deeply bruised stomach convulse in revulsion.
"Oatmeal," the slave pony claimed flatly, scooping up a bowl full of the same discolored glop for the next pony.
"Oatmeal? Are you crazy?" I stared in disbelief. "This doesn't look anything like oatmeal! Or smell. Or..." I added as another portion of the muck sloughed from ladle to bowl, "...sound."
I gave half of the "oatmeal" to Blood, feeling like I was the one being cruel. Then I limped around until I found another pony who had been bullied out of his share and gave him the rest. I was in too much pain in tender places, including my stomach, to attempt eating anyway.
In turn, he gave me very depressing advice on continued existence as a "worker" in Fillydelphia. Don't choose the Crater. Most ponies who go there don't live even three months, much less four. Don't choose the Pit. You'll have to survive as many as thirty-six battles against other slaves to make it, and the battles were always to the death. I moaned at that. I couldn't see myself taking the life of another slave. Well, maybe Blood and Daff. But not the innocent ones.
He himself worked in the scrapyards, using a tool he called an auto-axe to cut apart chariots and other large hunks of metal for melting down in the steel mill. It was dangerous work, and they were kept under supervision by guards in high places, but there weren't any whips. No slave master was going to get into a scrapyard with a slave wielding a spinning blade magically enchanted to slash easily through metal.
He regaled me with the many ways to die in Fillydelphia. One of the least pleasant was the work pits I had seen on the way in. "But fortunately," he said, "Those are reserved fer ponies who try t' escape, or worse, sabotage Red Eye's work."
"What are they?"
"Fillydelphia has a bit o' a parasprite problem," the pony told me as he ate the remainder of my glop. "Apparently, there was a massive infestation maybe three or four decades before the megaspells. S'posedly, they wiped it out, but parasprites are really persistent."
He licked the bowl while I tried not to gag.
"Couple years back, Red Eye's bucks were blasting their way inta one of the Stables that was pretty close t' the crater and cleared open a pocket full of the damn things, all irradiated t' hell and nastier than ever."
"Bloatsprites?" I asked, but he shook his head.
"Naw, bloatsprites is what happena t' the parasprites that get themselves tainted. Big an' mean, but don't tend t' reproduce. An' that's a blessin', y' trust me on that." I looked at me gravely. "These little buggers are irradiated. Big difference."
"So... what do they do?"
"Same thing they've always done. Eat an' spit out more," the pony fixed me with a stare. "Only now they're carnivorous."
They eat... ponies? Oh Celestia!
"And those chimneys?"
The buck cocked his head. "Well, that's where we incinerate the nests they find. Only way t' make sure they stop reproducin' is to kill 'em with fire." He scowled, "Problem is, sometimes there are ones deep in the nests that don't get properly cooked by the exterminators. They wake up from the heat, fly out... the mesh over the work pits makes sure they don't get too far, an' one o' the guards always has a flamethrower. Especially after that one mare had one o' them buggies fly inta her throat. They ate her from the inside out."
Pure nightmare fuel. I really wished I could unhear that.
But as bad as that was, on the top of his list of ways to die was Unity.
"Ah know what that bastard Red Eye says, but Ah've known plenty o' ponies who volunteered fer Unity, and not one of 'em ever came back," he confided in me. "Accordin' t' some ponies, the Goddess, whatever that's s'posed t' be, is turnin' them into those big alicorn critters we sometimes see hereabouts. But if that was true, then Ah figure there would be a lot more o' them. And you'd think one would bother t' come back an' say hello t' old friends, bein' as they c'n fly an' all."
I didn't think it helpful to tell him that there were probably more of them than he thought. My mind was already processing the other information. The pseudo-goddesses had no cutie marks and were at least guided through a telepathic source. My mind reeled at the possibility that transformation removed their individuality and sense of self completely. Doing that to a pony would be... worse than murder!
• • •
Night was chilly, and I had no blanket. I lay on the rat-chewed old mat which had been bed to slaves before me, most of whom were probably dead now. The mat was so worn it felt harder than the cement beneath it, and so stained that I didn't really want to touch it. But it was all I had.
My body was badly bruised, and it still ached to breathe. My rib had been cracked but thankfully not broken. I tried wholeheartedly to ignore the worst of the lower pain. Part of me wanted to kill Daff as painfully and bloodily as possible. Part of me wanted to curl up and cry. I fought down both. Considering what I did and threatened to do to the piss-colored bastard, I think part of me wanted to show that I could take what I was willing to dish out. Mostly, though, I had told him he could save face; and as much as I hated it, I had to acknowledge that is exactly what he did.
The sky above was black with reflected tinges of orange and red. With the fall of night, all the forges and fires and other glowing things were more pronounced, giving the Fillydelphia Ruins an infernal cast. The worst was the subtle red tinge to the air that became a luminescent glow within the massive pit where the megaspell-carrying missile had struck, missing the massive industrial sectors of the city to find the heart of the civilian housing. Darkness never truly fell in the core of the Fillydelphia Crater.
A gust of wind brought a deeper chill and a choking, acrid smell with it from somewhere deeper in Fillydelphia. A few of the other slaves coughed in their sleep. I shivered and tried to breathe without inhaling.
I missed my friends. I wondered if they were okay. In my mind, I had begun playing through all the mistakes I had made, all the ways my plan could have gone wrong...
Somewhere not far away, I caught sight of a small burst of green flame.
Getting up, I slipped quietly out, bringing up my Eyes-Forward Sparkle to help me find the balefire phoenix. My heart felt thankful for the company as I spotted her perched on a sign shaped like a smiling Pinkie Pie holding up a hoof. ("You must be this tall to ride the FunFarm Wheel.") Behind her, the massive iron structure of the wheel rose above the park like a mechanical eye, watching us balefully.
Pyrelight hooted musically at me.
"Thank you," I told her earnestly. I didn't think I could make it through this trial alone.
I considered asking her questions, or requesting that she ferry a message to Velvet Remedy, or half a dozen other things that I dismissed in turn. Instead, I chose to just sit there, resting my head against the two-dimensional Pinkie Pie, and enjoying her company.
• • •
"Well, let's put you to work," Mister Shiny said, looking me over. Mister Shiny was the slave master pony in charge of assigning work to new slaves, and I thought he had a deceptively kindly voice. "I see you've got a PipBuck, and you should be tagged for a visit to Doctor Slaughter, but I figure we can hold off on that." He gave me a smile that seemed personable but had no real warmth. "What do you say we put that thing to use instead?"
I was still terribly sore and walked with a slight limp, but he didn't seem to notice, or at least not care. I was sure he'd put ponies to work who were in much worse shape. "What do I have to do?"
"Well, there's a building in town that's been infested with parasprites. But this time, we can't just go in with flamethrowers. So we could use a pony with a PipBuck," Mister Shiny explained. "That thing can spot targets for you, right? We'll send you in there in environmental barding and with a low-powered magical energy gun. Shoot the damn things until they're piles of ash."
"How... how many are there?" The fretful nightmares of the night before replayed themselves in my mind.
"Shouldn't be more than fifty. They haven't had anything to snack on since the infestation was discovered, poor Whitetail."
Within half an hour, he had me equipped and ready to go. Except for ammo. I'd get that after I entered the building. They'd shove it through a mail slot.
• • •
Beams of bright magenta magical energy lanced through the air at me from the security turret in the hallway ceiling. One of the blasts struck my environmental suit, melting a hole in it the size of a hoof just below my cutie mark and burning my flesh underneath. As I threw myself behind a desk, I hoped it wouldn't scar like the slash on my neck.
The terminal on the desk glowed softly, that same sickly pale green that almost all of them did. I hid myself behind it as I began to hack the system. It only took me a moment; the terminal's security was pathetic. And I was in luck! The terminal could shut down the turrets.
The turret let loose another barrage of pink energy. Several lancing bolts struck the backside of the terminal. It exploded in my face with a blast of sparks.
I would have been permanently blinded, if not outright killed, had the environmental suit not included a gas mask and heavy goggles. I cringed back behind the desk and considered my options.
Until now, the bug hunt was more frustrating than dangerous. The barding had made me effectively immune to the parasprites, and I had become so practiced in the art of stealth that I could sneak up right behind one before the half-blind things spotted me. Which was good, since I had almost no skill with magical energy weapons. Even at close range, even with S.A.T.S., I missed as often as I hit.
As the turret spewed out another barrage, a little yellow parasprite flew towards me, drawn by the smell of my burned flesh. I slipped into S.A.T.S. as it drew close, aiming the laser and firing. I hit it with the third shot, and it disintegrated in a flash of turquoise ash. I dropped the targeting spell and then kicked it back up a second later to help me take down two more parasprites (one of which was approximately the color of dead flesh).
"I think I'm in trouble."
I checked the magical spark pack. Those second two had taken me five shots to vaporize. Better, but still not good. According to my PipBuck's initial scan, there were fifty-two parasprites in the building that I had to wipe out, and I had just killed parasprites numbered nineteen through twenty-one. That left thirty-one more to go, most of which I knew were swarming around the building's factory floor -- an area I had been avoiding, choosing to clear out the rest of the building first. Only now they smelled flesh.
I had seven shots left.
"Really in trouble."
The turret poured out even more magical energy, trying to strike me down, not smart enough to realize there was a whole big metal desk in the way. The desk was getting warm to the touch.
If I didn't find more ammo in this place... or, even better, another weapon...
I opened the desk, just to check.
Bottle caps. Three of them. I let out a scream of frustration.
I looked around, spotting a door marked "maintenance" nearby. Wrapping the desk in a field of levitation, I carried it alongside me as shield while I dashed for the door. It was locked.
I still didn't have a screwdriver. Looking towards the heavens, "If either of you two are actually up there, I'm really sorry for doubting. Really sorry. I apologize! Now... could you please send me a break?"
The turret fired again. The desk was no longer just warm. It was beginning to radiate heat. Three more parasprites flew into the room, drawn to my smell.
"Well then fuck you too. Both of you!" I shouted upwards. "Go lick each other's..." I slid into S.A.T.S. and sent a flurry of targeting spell-guided shots at the parasprites. Two turned to ash. The third was struck, falling to the floor but not dying. The other shots missed. And now I was out. I panted, my rib injury burning and making it hurt to breathe.
Dammit!
The turret fired again. The desk was now glowing. In frustration, I snapped, "You want this so much? Here! Take it!" Keeping the desk between me and the turret, I floated it up to the offending machine and slammed at it over and over until it stopped working with a crunch.
I then floated it past me the other way, flipping it over and dropping the glowing metal surface on the wounded blue bug.
• • •
I managed to close myself in an office above the building's main floor. The hallway that the turret had been protecting had lead to this room -- the equivalent of an Overmare's office. There was a small door on one side that probably lead to a closet and massive plate-glass windows that looked out over the main work area. I stared out one of the windows at the mass of cute, colorful predators swarming between the catwalks above and the printing presses below.
Same aesthetic, I noted dourly. It was like the world before had a hard-on for industrial accidents.
I also now understood why going in with flamethrowers was not so much an option. This building was a printing house. And a lot of it was full of books, posters... a veritable cornucopia of fuel for an out-of-control fire. Such a fire would probably destroy the very things I was sure Red Eye was after: the presses.
I had to applaud the stallion. He had power, steel, textiles... and now he was working on bringing back mass publication. As far as I could tell, the only book that had been written and distributed on any significant scale since the apocalypse was The Wasteland Survival Guide. Getting this place running would be a major step forward.
Those schools he was promising suddenly began to look real.
I spotted several more automated turrets covering the main work floor. Damn things ignored the bugs, but I knew that they'd attack if I so much as stepped a hoof into that room. I was in no shape to deal with that many parasprites, much less the damn turrets.
The room had a desk with a still-functioning terminal. I sat down and began to hack, hoping that I could turn off any other turrets from here. The password, interestingly, was "Generous Souls".
"We stand at the dawn of a new golden age. Where others merely survive, we thrive! And while I have led your efforts, it has been by your own strength... Because, yes, freedom is what we all work towards."
Alone.
I had given my possessions, even my barding, to Calamity. Knight Poppyseed had brought me soiled, filthy slave cloths to wrap myself in. Thick wrappings had gone around my right foreleg to hide my PipBuck, complete with twigs and bloodstains to suggest my leg had been cruelly wounded. (If anypony asked, I intended to tell them I'd been run through with a piece of rebar.)
Then I had been shackled. (As with the slavers before, Knight Poppyseed had been unable to shackle me properly at the hoof thanks to my PipBuck, so she had locked the manacles above my knees.) I had floated myself into the cage of a slave wagon and bedded down in moldy hay filled with small, itchy bugs. It had taken only minutes to become wretchedly uncomfortable. Between that, and nearly getting fucked in the tail by a giant flaming Pinkie Pie the evening before, I had been deemed to look decently pathetic.
I had been allowed to attach a few bobby pins to my rags, but I would have to hope I could find a screwdriver somewhere on the other side of The Wall.
Then, with worried goodbyes, my companions left me alone. I was to lay there and wait for a member of Red Eye's slavers whom the Steel Rangers had sufficiently bribed (or perhaps ensured the cooperation of in less wholesome ways) to come and get the slave wagon.
I'd forgotten what it felt like to be alone. I had spent my whole previous life alone. I hadn't had any friends growing up; and my mother, as much as I loved her, wasn't the sort of parent a filly could feel "together" with. Alone is cold and dull and miserable. It is a void that aches to be filled. And the little hobbies and distractions that I had turned to had never really filled that hole. Because it was a hole that could only be filled with companionship.
Growing up, the closest I had come to that was music -- the singing on the Stable Two broadcast. At least with music, there was another pony involved who was trying to make a connection. And I could pretend that pony was trying to make a connection specifically with me, not just anypony who was listening. The illusion was never perfect, and it couldn't be held beyond the song. But while the music was playing, the mirage of friendship helped protect me against the cold.
Needless to say, it was the songs of Velvet Remedy which I had cherished the most. I had even fallen in love, I think, with my dream of her. I still remembered the hurt when my ridiculous and unrealistic mental image of her was shattered by the real thing standing in a train car, a non-prisoner in a slaver town. And even then, I think, I still clung to little fragments of my dream-Remedy until the day she shot me.
That said, I wouldn't have traded my very real friendship with the actual pony for anything, much less for a relationship with my two-dimensional daydream. What I had was better. Far better. Because it was real.
When I left Stable Two, my life changed forever. And the most drastic change wasn't the vast open wasteland, or the sickly sunlight that pushed its way through the clouds. It wasn't the horrors and wickedness and cruelty I had seen, or the daunting amount of pain I had suffered, or even the growing river of pony blood drowning my hooves.
The most drastic change was friendship. And it started just a few days out of the Stable with a pony named Calamity.
Calamity was unlike any pony I had ever met. He was fearless and noble and just in a way that I could only aspire to. And he cared about me in a way nopony, not even my mother, ever did. He was willing to stand by me, even when I was being foolish and wrong. Not that we never disagreed, because we did often enough. But he gave me the benefit of the doubt. He trusted me and he was somepony I knew I could trust in return.
I freely admit that I had been jealous when Calamity and Velvet Remedy had started to gravitate towards each other. (And, in retrospect, I have to wonder: was my conviction that they were a couple already accurate or a self-fulfilling prophesy?) How foalish I was to feel that way. But friendship was and is still new to me, and I had many lessons to learn about it. (And many, many more to go, if the sheer number of Spike's stories are to be believed.)
Only after I had come to accept their closeness, and take comfort in it, was my heart really open enough to embrace Homage. I had friendship, but the void goes deeper than that. I wanted more than companionship. I yearned for love and physical intimacy.
I will also admit that when Homage first opened the possibility, I was drawn to her out of desperation. But that changed. She changed that. Likewise, I would not blame a pony for thinking that our relationship had been fast and brief. But while it is true that I had not met her in coat and mane until Tenpony Tower, I had gotten to know much of her before seeing her face-to-face, as she had gotten to know me. In truth, I have known Homage almost as long as I have known Calamity.
True, I had not known her deeply and personally until Tenpony Tower, but who really knows their friends well in the first few weeks? And I can safely say that the connection we had built before meeting was laid on a solid foundation. I can say this thanks in great part to the honesty that I realize Homage embodies. The Homage that I grew to know as DJ Pon3 was and is the real Homage. Not all of her, granted, and not without trappings. But real all the same.
Homage knows of me at my best, but has also seen me at my worst. And instead of being scared away, she has embraced me and let me in. She has held and comforted me. And she has done so much more, allowing me an intimacy that I had only daydreamed about before, and usually to my private shame. With Homage, I don't feel ashamed.
Having seen the memories of SteelHooves, a melancholy realization had crept into my thoughts. He was the only of my companions who has been in a similar relationship. (Yet... unless Calamity and Velvet Remedy have managed to be up to things with a far greater degree of sneakiness and stealth than I attribute to either of them.) Like me, he had a companion whom he could trust to be open and honest with him. And, like me, he chose to keep things from her. I am quite sure he did not reveal to Applejack the murder he committed. Whereas, in my case, I have kept from Homage... well, another murder SteelHooves committed.
Thinking on these things, I suddenly found the parallel downright creepy.
SteelHooves once told me that I would learn that he wasn't a "better pony" -- which I certainly have seen is true -- just like she did. And while I can only guess at what befell their relationship, I do know that he and Applejack were together the day the bombs fell. I must assume they at least worked at mending any damage his dark secrets had caused. And I also know that, ultimately, she left him. She chose her family over him, and she left him behind.
And he's been living with that abandonment for two hundred years. Alone.
With an aching heart and a sense of unease, I found myself desperately needing to talk to Homage. With any luck, I would be able to do so as soon as my friends had the override installed. I wondered if I would be able to speak to her just by talking to the air. But from what I had heard, it seemed more likely that I would need to get to the station myself to have real communication with her. Either way, I was determined to come clean. For better or for worse.
Unlike the hobbies and distractions of my lonely youth, friendship really can fill the void enough for a pony to be happy. And while I wouldn't normally consider my experiences in the Equestrian Wasteland to be happy ones, I really have been happier out here than I ever was in Stable Two.
Being with friends is a blanket against the cold. A bulwark that makes you stronger. A connection that makes you bigger. Without friends, I was exposed, weak and small.
And, on an unrelated note, itchy.
• • •
Chain-link fencing crackled with energy, surrounding a barricaded outer gate. Guards watched with amusement as the slaver pulled my wagon up to The Wall.
"Only one?" a guard mare called out. She was heavily barded and wore a battle saddle bearing four combat shotguns. The sight made me cringe. "A whole wagon for just one? Been slacking, Gnash?"
The slaver pulling my wagon just grunted. I scratched at my neck with a hindhoof and tried not to wince every time the wagon jolted as it rolled over the broken, rocky streets. I unrealistically hoped that slaves were given baths.
"And such a small one too," a guard buck in similar barding called out. I noticed that I couldn't see any weapons on him, save for his horn and hooves. I wondered if that made him less or more dangerous? "If it wasn't a unicorn, I'd say toss it back in the lake."
Itching badly, I really wished I would be tossed in a lake. It occurred to me, however, that this was not the first time a slaver had suggested unicorns were considered an extra-valuable prize. Not entirely surprising, considering that the unicorns in Stable Two were often expected to go into technical work thanks to the fine manipulation our magic allowed. I wondered what work Red Eye was putting us to. I'd probably find out soon enough.
While quadruple-combat-shotgun-pony kept aim on me, her male counterpart threw a lever, killing the electric crackle of the chain-link fence. He hoofed a button, and a section of the fence began to roll open with considerable clatter. Quadruple-combat-shotgun-pony continued to keep her battle saddle trained on me, a single unicorn pony shackled and caged, as did two snipers hidden within steel bunker towers on either side of The Wall's inner gate. The heads of patrol ponies could be seen walking the parameter of the wall on a raised platform just behind it. Even knowing me, it felt like a ridiculous amount of overkill.
A griffin arced overhead, checking out the latest arrival, and flew away laughing.
"By the you-know-who, Gnash, when I first saw this one, I thought you'd bucked your horseshoes and actually brought in a filly!" the mare snickered, making me feel ever smaller. "I was thinking maybe I ought to blow your head off before Stern got ahold of you."
Gnash, my "chauffeur", merely grunted again.
"What's this?" the guard buck asked, peering in at me. His horn glowed and a jagged, rusty spear jutted between the bars at me. I cringed back. The unicorn frowned at me and tipped the spear so the head of it caught on the blood-soaked wrapping around my PipBuck and pulled it away.
Crap! I wasn't even in the gate and the plan was falling apart.
"Oh," he said with a smiling grunt. "Think you're a clever pony, do you?" He gave me a cruel leer. "Let's see how clever you feel inside."
Inside? Did he intend to rape me, I wondered with a shot of panic, or just let me through the gate?
The guard mare shot him a look and then gave a cruel laugh. "Oh please, do it! Hell, here, let me help hold her down!" She gave her companion an evil smirk, "Fifteen minutes of fun... if that... and you'll be scratching at the haybugs biting your sheath for a week!"
I felt suddenly thankful for the infested hay.
The buck backed up with a fearful look, then scowled at the mare. "You'd really enjoy that, wouldn't you?"
"More than life itself." What a disgusting couple.
"Bah!" He hit the button to close the outer gate and waved a hoof towards the sniper ponies. "Let it through!" He gave me one more look, this one barely containing revulsion. His eyes moved to my PipBuck, now partially visible through the wrappings. "Oh, and tag her to see Doc Slaughter. She's got one of them leg terminals that are a bitch to get off."
For a pony who had been so sorely disappointed that she had a PipBuck for a cutie mark, I was remarkably terrified at the thought I might lose it. As best I could parse the buck's attitude, these slavers had seen PipBuck's before. And had ways to remove them.
The buck threw the lever and the fence around us once again crackled and hummed.
With a rending grind, the huge metal inner gate of The Wall began to lower on massive chains -- a drawbridge, complete with a moat on the inner side of The Wall. My PipBuck began to click urgently as it picked up radiation seeping out of the sludge. The Wall was clearly meant to keep anypony from getting out as much as prevent ponies from getting in.
Beyond, I got my first glimpse of inner city Fillydelphia. Slave masters stood guard over mesh-covered workpits, wearing barding and gas masks, pointing weapons down to where poor ponies labored beyond the point of exhaustion. I couldn't tell what work they were doing, but I could tell they were filthy, sick and trembling.
A chimney rose out of the nearest workpit. Hellish, red-tinted exhaust poured out of it. I gagged on the stench of unwashed ponies and noxious fumes.
A swath of bright yellow and green fluttered around the chimney before perching on a nearby pile of rubble. Pyrelight! She cocked her head at me.
I was not alone.
• • •
"Behold!" called out the voice of Red Eye. "We stand on the threshold of a new dawn. With every factory we recover, every mill we rebuild, we move one big step forward towards an Equestria where our children can live in the safety and comfort of modern cities, not grovel in the dilapidated ruins of the past. With the stone and glass and steel forged by these, we can rebuild the homes and towers and lanes of mass transportation that will bestow freedom and prosperity upon generations to come! This, my children, is the very last generation that needs to cringe in caves and scramble for two-hundred-year-old scraps of food."
The Fillydelphia broadcast poured out of speakers everywhere. The messages and music were non-stop, the constant companion of both slave masters and slaves.
Gnash pulled the wagon past several more workpits before drawing to a stop in what had once been a chariot lot. I coughed. My PipBuck was not shy about informing me that the gas pouring out of the workpit smokestacks was poisonous. The guards had gas masks, but they apparently couldn't spare any for the slaves. I trembled with anger. The rate of attrition here must be unconscionable.
The lot was full of cage wagons, most of them recently emptied by other wagon-pullers who were amassing slaves in an open area of the pavement. The gate I had come through was not the only one, and I was not the only new arrival.
Gnash opened my cage and stuck his head in, biting on the chain between my shackles and hauling me roughly out. I was dragged into a throng of suffering ponies, each of whom had clearly been through weeks of torment before even getting here.
A large, black griffin in dark-grey Talon barding landed on the roof adjacent to the chariot lot and turned her white-feathered head to scowl at us. Above her head rose a banner that fluttered in the wind: the Red Eye flag. She had a whip curled under one wing and an anti-machine rifle strapped to her back.
"The work is hard, yes," Red Eye's voice continued out of the nearest speaker as the griffin above scanned the miserable group of ponies beneath her. "But only through the generous gift of our efforts can our children, and our children's children, have a better world. We must selflessly give all we can so that a New Equestria may rise. And that is not an easy thing to ask."
Honestly, Red Eye, I don't see much asking going on.
"Tribals care only about their own small groups, unable or unwilling to view a larger picture. Raiders and Steel Rangers are the epitome of selfishness, caring only for their own base desires and outdated codes, taking what they want from the rest of us and giving nothing back.
"But here, today, and every day, we give back. We create. Where others only know how to tear down, we build! And that, my children, is how we pave the way for..."
One of the other wagon-pullers shouted at us, making many ponies cringe and one actually burst into tears. "Make yourselves presentable, you worthless mules!"
The griffin's expression suddenly turned from something resembling mild contempt to cold anger. She drew the massive anti-machine rifle faster than I would have thought possible. The report of the gun was like the righteous anger of Luna. The wagon-puller was ripped in two, the bullet punching though the asphalt and burying itself deep in the ground.
A few of the ponies screamed. A magenta mare with an orange mane began backpedaling, trying to keep her hooves out of the spreading pool of blood, her terror-stricken face splattered with what looked like part of the dead slaver's stomach lining.
"...We are not animals. We are not zebras. We are ponies! We have a better nature, and a higher calling. We know that the road is hard, and yet we stand and face the challenge. We know that many of us may suffer and perish and never taste the sweet fruits of our labor. But out of generosity and hope, we give of ourselves anyway, so that others may know a better future. Because that future is worth any sacrifice! And yes, the New Equestria does demand sacrifices."
Okay... but pony sacrifices?
Red Eye's speech ended. The music began again, uplifting and regal. The griffin looked not at us, but at the cowering slavers.
"You do not interrupt when Red Eye is talking!"
She then turned to us. "My name is Stern," the griffin stated, looking down on her new slaves. "And this is my town."
• • •
"You are workers," Stern informed us as she paced along the rooftop above. "You work towards the building of a brighter tomorrow, towards the New Equestria which will be populated by the Unity. Your work is the gift that you give to the future. And you can either give it willingly, or Red Eye will give it for you."
I found myself conflicted. I seethed at the treatment of the slave ponies, which amounted to nothing short of slow and torturous murder. And yet... I understood Red Eye's goal. Maybe not all of it. The whole Unity thing was getting downright creepy. But the progress? The striving to make the world a better place at any cost? The same drive had left me flank-deep in blood, and I was not apologetic for it.
Red Eye will put you to work doing things we probably should be working together towards anyway. (Although by choice and in safer conditions!) Me? I'll put a bullet through your head if you are a raping, murdering blight on ponykind. In both cases, we had decided that ponies who don't choose to live their lives the right way had forfeited their right to live freely, if at all.
There was a difference. There was a line between Red Eye and me. It just wasn't as thick as I would have liked. Even so, it didn't change the pain I was seeing and hearing all around me, and that these horrors had to stop.
"But most of you don't really care about the future, do you? I can see it in your eyes. You don't give a crap about other ponies. You just care about your 'freedom'. Well, then, listen closely, because I'm going to tell you how to free yourselves," Stern said, her voice gruff with disgust and conviction. Part of me wanted to cry out that I did care. But a much stronger part of me listened intently. Unless I could find a screwdriver and an unguarded place to hide, this might be my best chance.
"You earn it!" Of course you do, I thought. But Stern was quick to expound on that concept. "You can toil in the mills and the factories and the workhouses until you drop. Or you can volunteer for more dangerous jobs. Those who do are rewarded. Red Eye is a very generous stallion. He gives you three options."
The griffin held up three razor-sharp talons and began ticking them down. "You can choose to work on a Stable Recovery Team. There are a lot of Stables in the Fillydelphia area, each rich in resources. But Stables tend to be dangerous. They often have their own security or their own... unique dangers."
I shuddered, feeling a fresh wave of fury.
The griffin scowled. "And of course there are the Steel Rangers, who are also after the same prizes. And before you start getting any wrong ideas, let me warn you: the Steel Rangers have adopted a slaughter first attitude towards anyone that stands in their way of reclaiming old Stable-Tec property for themselves. They will slaughter you just as quickly as they will slaughter us. And in those rare cases where the Stables have still-living residents, they usually slaughter them too. At least Red Eye gives them the same options he gives you."
My eyes went wide, my jaw dropping. Luna rape them with Her horn!
"You work two years on a Stable Recovery Team and survive, and Red Eye promises you freedom. You'll be tagged and will be allowed to live whatever life you chose." The griffin gave a knowing smirk, "So long as you don't decide to become a bother."
Two years. That... was not an option. But I wasn't really thinking about that. I was thinking about how Blueberry Sabre and I were going to have some very, very harsh words. I was already considering what ammo to use as punctuation.
Curling her second claw, Stern continued, "You can work in the Fillydelphia crater. Red Eye has need of radioactive materials, and that crater is a treasure trove of them." If Blueberry Sabre was to be believed, and it would have been stupid for her to lie about my objectives, then I knew why Red Eye was mining the crater. He needed material for his Rad-Engine. But working at ground zero of a megaspell strike... even in radiation-protective barding, that was a death sentence!
"Red Eye has stated that any pony who works for six months' worth of full work days in the Fillydelphia Crater will be treated for radiation sickness and freed." A falsely kind smile crossed her beak. "But since he is such a charitable stallion, Red Eye has recently reduced it to only four months." I suspected most ponies suffered fatal poisoning within three.
"Your third option," Stern informed us, holding up the remaining talon, "Is to fight in The Pit. The Pit is arena combat, pony against pony. Each Event has six rounds, and there is usually an Event once every week. More if Red Eye himself graces us with his presence."
The griffin stared down at us, assessing the pathetic herd of new slaves. "If you survive six consecutive events, not only do you gain your beloved freedom, but you gain an honored place in Red Eye's army!" She stood up tall, glowering. "But frankly, none of you lot look worthy of such an honor."
The black-bodied griffin snorted. "Still, I am honor-bound to give you the option. Just try not to make it too easy for your opponent if you do." Then, scowling yet again at us, she warned, "These are the ways to earn your freedom. But there are two more ways to gain it. You may, at any time, choose to join the Unity. If you do, your fate will be in the hooves of the Goddess," she said the word as if it was distasteful. "Or, of course, you can gain freedom through death.
"Try anything stupid, try to rebel, try to fight, try to run... any of those are fine ways to die horribly." Stern fixed us all with a stare. "But that is all they are."
• • •
Welcome to the Fillydelphia FunFarm!
A weathered, oversized image of Pinkie Pie's head and forehooves peeked over the top of the arched, wrought-iron gateway. Beyond lay the decaying ruins of what had once been a massive amusement park. I remembered it from the poster in SteelHooves' shack. ("Everything the Grand Galloping Gala should have been! Every day! Forever!")
We were herded through the gateway. A fair bulk of the old amusement park had been converted into the slaves' quarters. I had been assigned a straw mat somewhere in an enclosure where ponies once galloped around in mock-ups of plow wagons, ramming into each other for fun. (Being new, I didn't rate four walls, only a roof. And I was told to be glad for that. The rain in Fillydelphia, they warned me, burned.)
On the path up to the gateway, I had spotted slaves harnessed to actual plow wagons, pushing mounds of rubble as they pulled a chariot behind them, carrying the slave master pony who whipped them if they weren't going fast enough. Or if the slave master liked the sounds the poor pony made when struck brutally with the lash. Or if she was just bored.
I wondered if any of those tortured ponies spent their nights sleeping in the Bumper-Plow Pit. Sometimes, irony sucked.
Once, colts and fillies would drag their parents from miles around to romp and play in the silly rides and spectacles the Fillydelphia FunFarm provided. Now it was a monstrous monument to slavery and death, wrapped in garish, peeling paint.
Pinkie Pie wouldn't approve.
Above us, three Pinkie Pie Balloons floated, in constant orbit over the decayed amusement park. One moved freely. The other two were anchored, one apiece, to the two tallest buildings still standing within the curtain of The Wall. The first was leashed to an old hotel, beaten but unbroken, which towered just a few blocks beyond the eastern edge of the Fillydelphia FunFarm. The huge lettering on the twentieth-floor balcony was nearly rusted away and had long ago lost its lighting; but even without it, I would have recognized the Alpha-Omega Hotel from its small picture in that old news article I'd seen a couple days ago.
The second Pinkie Pie Balloon was bound to a building rising out of the FunFarm itself. It was clearly stylized as a barn, looking like nothing so much as a colossal version of the old building on Sweet Apple Acres. The first floors were covered in gaily-colored murals and fairytale characters, most of which had slid from the Precipice of Childlike Frivolity into the Valley of Disturbing Imagery. The roller coaster that looped all about the amusement park actually passed through the building on the sixth floor. A huge radio tower jutted up from the top, modified to look like a comically oversized weathervane.
I realized that I was looking at the Fillydelphia Hub of the Ministry of Morale.
I should have known. Pinkie Pie and her Ministry had created the sprite-bots. The source of the sprite-bots' broadcast had to be a Ministry Hub somewhere. It wasn't powerful enough to reach all the way to Manehattan, but with each sprite-bot re-broadcasting the signal, the Ministry of Morale's reach had been effectively infinite. When Red Eye had taken the Hub, he had simply added his sermons to the playlist. The music itself was the same songs that the Ministry of Morale had been broadcasting since before the war.
As if mocking me for my revelation, the plucky harpsichord number playing over the speakers suffered a sudden influx of lyrics:
"You gotta share. You gotta care. It's the right thing to do!"
I really, really wanted a gun.
"Oh look," called out a blood-red mare whose dark green mane was done up in spikes. She was lounging on the spectator railing of the Bumper-Plow arena. "Fresh meat!"
The slave master ponies walking with us took their leave. Gnash gave me a parting look that I couldn't interpret. Then we were alone with the other slaves. Many paid us no mind. Most that even spared us a glance did so with sad, resigned expressions.
I felt sickened at the sight of several of them -- many were shedding their manes and coats, revealing boils or discolored flesh beneath, or suffered from withered limbs or sloughing facial features -- the slowly dying victims of radiation poisoning.
And then there were the bullies.
The blood-red mare slid from the railing and stalked towards us. "Listen up, my little grubworms," she barked. Her cutie mark looked like an eyeball on a pike. I shuddered, wondering just how you end up getting that as a cutie mark. Blueberry Sabre had warned that I might have more to fear from the inmates than the guards.
Another pony joined her: a hulking, piss-colored male pony with an ugly scar and the cutie mark of a very angry yellow flower. (I got the absurd feeling that the flower wanted to kill me.)
The school in Stable Two had bullies, and these ponies reminded me of them. No matter how powerless we all were, they could find power by making the rest of us even more miserable. It was contemptible at best. With everypony suffering, I felt it was vile that some of the slaves themselves would go out of their way to make it worse for others. I had learned that best way to gain strength was through friendship. Shouldn't we all be working together? But... this was faster and easier for the selfish.
"I'm Blood," the appropriately-colored mare with the spiked mane announced. Then, introducing the over-muscled buck, "And this is Daff." The lug stared at us, his eyes lingering on the mares.
"I know y'all just heard Stern's big spiel 'bout how Fillydelphia is her town," Blood said. (Which I bet she wouldn't have dared if the griffin was anywhere nearby.) "Well the Bumper-Plow Pit is our domain!"
"What a glorious empire you have there," I snarked under my breath before I could stop myself.
Blood looked like she'd been slapped. "Ex-cuuuuse me?" She trotted up, eyes narrowing. "Did you just talk? Because it sounded like you talked, but I don't remember telling you to."
Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? Well, at least maybe if she kicked the crap outta me, she'd manage to crush all the biting bugs in my coat while she was at it.
Then again... maybe it was a good thing that I'd gotten her attention. If I became the bullies' new chew-toy, then that would spare the other slaves at least some of their attentions. I'd faced a dragon; I could take the crap these two could dish.
Okay, I ran away from a dragon. But that's just getting nitpicky.
"Well, did you just talk?" Blood demanded sticking her snout against mine. She had to lower her head a little to do so, something I could see she enjoyed. My small stature made me a particularly appealing target.
"I.... I just said... what a glorious empire you have. You know... with the crumbling amusement park ride," I stammered, cringing back. "You must be s-so proud!"
Her eyes widened. "Oh... you. Are. Begging. Me to mess you up." She lifted up a hoof and brought it down on the chain of my manacles, driving my face into the dirt. "Okay, filly, this is life from now on. You speak when I tell you to speak. You lick where I tell you to lick. And you give me half of your food rations every night. And maybe, just maybe, I'll keep you for myself rather than letting Daff here have you every Luna-damned night until he splits you in two!"
I looked up at her, putting on a pitiful expression.
"Daff," she called back to the piss-colored brute. "Fuck her up bad!"
The lumbering buck approached me with a nasty grin. "With pleasure!" He spun and kicked. HARD!
Pain exploded through my breast. I found myself flying back through the air. I crashed through the rotted remains of what had once been a hot dog stand (with a picture of Pinkie Pie slathering on the mustard).
I was struggling to get onto my feet when he slammed into me at full gallop, sending me sprawling. I thought I heard a rib crack. Breathing was becoming painful.
The buck trotted up to me as I fought to catch my breath and reared up. Without armor, I was afraid he'd break my back, so I twisted. He compensated, his hooves coming down in my stomach, knocking any wind I had out of me. I coughed, tasting blood.
The huge buck positioned himself over me.
My horn glowed softly as I wrapped a very tender part of him in a telekinetic sheath and gave him a warning squeeze.
Daff stopped abruptly.
"Here's the deal," I whispered, half moaning in pain. "You decide I'm not worthy of your... attentions. That way, you get to save face. And in return, I don't show you just how good I am at this particular trick." I squeezed a little harder and the buck jolted with pain, sweating now. "And you keep... yourself... to yourself and away from all the other slaves, or the deal's off." A slight bit tighter and Daff nodded fervently, tears spilling from his eyes as he tried not to scream.
"Deal?" I asked, even though I knew he had already agreed as I gave the telekinetic field a slight twist. His reaction was utterly worth it.
"Good," I growled, my mouth tasting of warm copper. I released him, dropping my head back as my vision swam. I needed a medical pony. I needed Velvet Remedy.
Shaking himself, Daff made a show of staring me up and down, then dismissing me with a huff. "Fuck that!" he said too loudly. "She's so tiny it would be like fucking a kid!" He turned around. Blood was looking at him with one eye narrowed in disbelief.
Daff glanced back over his shoulder at me, snorted, apparently deciding what he could and couldn't get away with. He drove his right hindhoof back with a gruesomely hard half-buck that landed directly between my hindlegs. Then trotted away, basking in the blood-colored mare's obvious approval.
I'd never screamed so hard in my life.
• • •
"I have walked through the streets of Fillydelphia, cleared of rubble, and seen the steel mill producing steel, the textiles mill producing cloth, the power plant producing power." Red Eye's voice sounded proud through the tinny speakers on steel poles that jutted into the ruddy evening air. "It is a start, but such a glorious start. And we owe it all... to each other."
"What is this?" I asked, half whimpering, as a bowl of indescribable mushy stuff was shoved in front of my nose. The smell made my deeply bruised stomach convulse in revulsion.
"Oatmeal," the slave pony claimed flatly, scooping up a bowl full of the same discolored glop for the next pony.
"Oatmeal? Are you crazy?" I stared in disbelief. "This doesn't look anything like oatmeal! Or smell. Or..." I added as another portion of the muck sloughed from ladle to bowl, "...sound."
I gave half of the "oatmeal" to Blood, feeling like I was the one being cruel. Then I limped around until I found another pony who had been bullied out of his share and gave him the rest. I was in too much pain in tender places, including my stomach, to attempt eating anyway.
In turn, he gave me very depressing advice on continued existence as a "worker" in Fillydelphia. Don't choose the Crater. Most ponies who go there don't live even three months, much less four. Don't choose the Pit. You'll have to survive as many as thirty-six battles against other slaves to make it, and the battles were always to the death. I moaned at that. I couldn't see myself taking the life of another slave. Well, maybe Blood and Daff. But not the innocent ones.
He himself worked in the scrapyards, using a tool he called an auto-axe to cut apart chariots and other large hunks of metal for melting down in the steel mill. It was dangerous work, and they were kept under supervision by guards in high places, but there weren't any whips. No slave master was going to get into a scrapyard with a slave wielding a spinning blade magically enchanted to slash easily through metal.
He regaled me with the many ways to die in Fillydelphia. One of the least pleasant was the work pits I had seen on the way in. "But fortunately," he said, "Those are reserved fer ponies who try t' escape, or worse, sabotage Red Eye's work."
"What are they?"
"Fillydelphia has a bit o' a parasprite problem," the pony told me as he ate the remainder of my glop. "Apparently, there was a massive infestation maybe three or four decades before the megaspells. S'posedly, they wiped it out, but parasprites are really persistent."
He licked the bowl while I tried not to gag.
"Couple years back, Red Eye's bucks were blasting their way inta one of the Stables that was pretty close t' the crater and cleared open a pocket full of the damn things, all irradiated t' hell and nastier than ever."
"Bloatsprites?" I asked, but he shook his head.
"Naw, bloatsprites is what happena t' the parasprites that get themselves tainted. Big an' mean, but don't tend t' reproduce. An' that's a blessin', y' trust me on that." I looked at me gravely. "These little buggers are irradiated. Big difference."
"So... what do they do?"
"Same thing they've always done. Eat an' spit out more," the pony fixed me with a stare. "Only now they're carnivorous."
They eat... ponies? Oh Celestia!
"And those chimneys?"
The buck cocked his head. "Well, that's where we incinerate the nests they find. Only way t' make sure they stop reproducin' is to kill 'em with fire." He scowled, "Problem is, sometimes there are ones deep in the nests that don't get properly cooked by the exterminators. They wake up from the heat, fly out... the mesh over the work pits makes sure they don't get too far, an' one o' the guards always has a flamethrower. Especially after that one mare had one o' them buggies fly inta her throat. They ate her from the inside out."
Pure nightmare fuel. I really wished I could unhear that.
But as bad as that was, on the top of his list of ways to die was Unity.
"Ah know what that bastard Red Eye says, but Ah've known plenty o' ponies who volunteered fer Unity, and not one of 'em ever came back," he confided in me. "Accordin' t' some ponies, the Goddess, whatever that's s'posed t' be, is turnin' them into those big alicorn critters we sometimes see hereabouts. But if that was true, then Ah figure there would be a lot more o' them. And you'd think one would bother t' come back an' say hello t' old friends, bein' as they c'n fly an' all."
I didn't think it helpful to tell him that there were probably more of them than he thought. My mind was already processing the other information. The pseudo-goddesses had no cutie marks and were at least guided through a telepathic source. My mind reeled at the possibility that transformation removed their individuality and sense of self completely. Doing that to a pony would be... worse than murder!
• • •
Night was chilly, and I had no blanket. I lay on the rat-chewed old mat which had been bed to slaves before me, most of whom were probably dead now. The mat was so worn it felt harder than the cement beneath it, and so stained that I didn't really want to touch it. But it was all I had.
My body was badly bruised, and it still ached to breathe. My rib had been cracked but thankfully not broken. I tried wholeheartedly to ignore the worst of the lower pain. Part of me wanted to kill Daff as painfully and bloodily as possible. Part of me wanted to curl up and cry. I fought down both. Considering what I did and threatened to do to the piss-colored bastard, I think part of me wanted to show that I could take what I was willing to dish out. Mostly, though, I had told him he could save face; and as much as I hated it, I had to acknowledge that is exactly what he did.
The sky above was black with reflected tinges of orange and red. With the fall of night, all the forges and fires and other glowing things were more pronounced, giving the Fillydelphia Ruins an infernal cast. The worst was the subtle red tinge to the air that became a luminescent glow within the massive pit where the megaspell-carrying missile had struck, missing the massive industrial sectors of the city to find the heart of the civilian housing. Darkness never truly fell in the core of the Fillydelphia Crater.
A gust of wind brought a deeper chill and a choking, acrid smell with it from somewhere deeper in Fillydelphia. A few of the other slaves coughed in their sleep. I shivered and tried to breathe without inhaling.
I missed my friends. I wondered if they were okay. In my mind, I had begun playing through all the mistakes I had made, all the ways my plan could have gone wrong...
Somewhere not far away, I caught sight of a small burst of green flame.
Getting up, I slipped quietly out, bringing up my Eyes-Forward Sparkle to help me find the balefire phoenix. My heart felt thankful for the company as I spotted her perched on a sign shaped like a smiling Pinkie Pie holding up a hoof. ("You must be this tall to ride the FunFarm Wheel.") Behind her, the massive iron structure of the wheel rose above the park like a mechanical eye, watching us balefully.
Pyrelight hooted musically at me.
"Thank you," I told her earnestly. I didn't think I could make it through this trial alone.
I considered asking her questions, or requesting that she ferry a message to Velvet Remedy, or half a dozen other things that I dismissed in turn. Instead, I chose to just sit there, resting my head against the two-dimensional Pinkie Pie, and enjoying her company.
• • •
"Well, let's put you to work," Mister Shiny said, looking me over. Mister Shiny was the slave master pony in charge of assigning work to new slaves, and I thought he had a deceptively kindly voice. "I see you've got a PipBuck, and you should be tagged for a visit to Doctor Slaughter, but I figure we can hold off on that." He gave me a smile that seemed personable but had no real warmth. "What do you say we put that thing to use instead?"
I was still terribly sore and walked with a slight limp, but he didn't seem to notice, or at least not care. I was sure he'd put ponies to work who were in much worse shape. "What do I have to do?"
"Well, there's a building in town that's been infested with parasprites. But this time, we can't just go in with flamethrowers. So we could use a pony with a PipBuck," Mister Shiny explained. "That thing can spot targets for you, right? We'll send you in there in environmental barding and with a low-powered magical energy gun. Shoot the damn things until they're piles of ash."
"How... how many are there?" The fretful nightmares of the night before replayed themselves in my mind.
"Shouldn't be more than fifty. They haven't had anything to snack on since the infestation was discovered, poor Whitetail."
Within half an hour, he had me equipped and ready to go. Except for ammo. I'd get that after I entered the building. They'd shove it through a mail slot.
• • •
Beams of bright magenta magical energy lanced through the air at me from the security turret in the hallway ceiling. One of the blasts struck my environmental suit, melting a hole in it the size of a hoof just below my cutie mark and burning my flesh underneath. As I threw myself behind a desk, I hoped it wouldn't scar like the slash on my neck.
The terminal on the desk glowed softly, that same sickly pale green that almost all of them did. I hid myself behind it as I began to hack the system. It only took me a moment; the terminal's security was pathetic. And I was in luck! The terminal could shut down the turrets.
The turret let loose another barrage of pink energy. Several lancing bolts struck the backside of the terminal. It exploded in my face with a blast of sparks.
I would have been permanently blinded, if not outright killed, had the environmental suit not included a gas mask and heavy goggles. I cringed back behind the desk and considered my options.
Until now, the bug hunt was more frustrating than dangerous. The barding had made me effectively immune to the parasprites, and I had become so practiced in the art of stealth that I could sneak up right behind one before the half-blind things spotted me. Which was good, since I had almost no skill with magical energy weapons. Even at close range, even with S.A.T.S., I missed as often as I hit.
As the turret spewed out another barrage, a little yellow parasprite flew towards me, drawn by the smell of my burned flesh. I slipped into S.A.T.S. as it drew close, aiming the laser and firing. I hit it with the third shot, and it disintegrated in a flash of turquoise ash. I dropped the targeting spell and then kicked it back up a second later to help me take down two more parasprites (one of which was approximately the color of dead flesh).
"I think I'm in trouble."
I checked the magical spark pack. Those second two had taken me five shots to vaporize. Better, but still not good. According to my PipBuck's initial scan, there were fifty-two parasprites in the building that I had to wipe out, and I had just killed parasprites numbered nineteen through twenty-one. That left thirty-one more to go, most of which I knew were swarming around the building's factory floor -- an area I had been avoiding, choosing to clear out the rest of the building first. Only now they smelled flesh.
I had seven shots left.
"Really in trouble."
The turret poured out even more magical energy, trying to strike me down, not smart enough to realize there was a whole big metal desk in the way. The desk was getting warm to the touch.
If I didn't find more ammo in this place... or, even better, another weapon...
I opened the desk, just to check.
Bottle caps. Three of them. I let out a scream of frustration.
I looked around, spotting a door marked "maintenance" nearby. Wrapping the desk in a field of levitation, I carried it alongside me as shield while I dashed for the door. It was locked.
I still didn't have a screwdriver. Looking towards the heavens, "If either of you two are actually up there, I'm really sorry for doubting. Really sorry. I apologize! Now... could you please send me a break?"
The turret fired again. The desk was no longer just warm. It was beginning to radiate heat. Three more parasprites flew into the room, drawn to my smell.
"Well then fuck you too. Both of you!" I shouted upwards. "Go lick each other's..." I slid into S.A.T.S. and sent a flurry of targeting spell-guided shots at the parasprites. Two turned to ash. The third was struck, falling to the floor but not dying. The other shots missed. And now I was out. I panted, my rib injury burning and making it hurt to breathe.
Dammit!
The turret fired again. The desk was now glowing. In frustration, I snapped, "You want this so much? Here! Take it!" Keeping the desk between me and the turret, I floated it up to the offending machine and slammed at it over and over until it stopped working with a crunch.
I then floated it past me the other way, flipping it over and dropping the glowing metal surface on the wounded blue bug.
• • •
I managed to close myself in an office above the building's main floor. The hallway that the turret had been protecting had lead to this room -- the equivalent of an Overmare's office. There was a small door on one side that probably lead to a closet and massive plate-glass windows that looked out over the main work area. I stared out one of the windows at the mass of cute, colorful predators swarming between the catwalks above and the printing presses below.
Same aesthetic, I noted dourly. It was like the world before had a hard-on for industrial accidents.
I also now understood why going in with flamethrowers was not so much an option. This building was a printing house. And a lot of it was full of books, posters... a veritable cornucopia of fuel for an out-of-control fire. Such a fire would probably destroy the very things I was sure Red Eye was after: the presses.
I had to applaud the stallion. He had power, steel, textiles... and now he was working on bringing back mass publication. As far as I could tell, the only book that had been written and distributed on any significant scale since the apocalypse was The Wasteland Survival Guide. Getting this place running would be a major step forward.
Those schools he was promising suddenly began to look real.
I spotted several more automated turrets covering the main work floor. Damn things ignored the bugs, but I knew that they'd attack if I so much as stepped a hoof into that room. I was in no shape to deal with that many parasprites, much less the damn turrets.
The room had a desk with a still-functioning terminal. I sat down and began to hack, hoping that I could turn off any other turrets from here. The password, interestingly, was "Generous Souls".
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Dodger
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
agradify wrote:
LYAT NEVA DIE
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Gravenstein
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
nice try deadpony you cant get me to watch animes my computer automatically blocks themDead Pony wrote:
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Femto
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
In fact just replace Fluttershy with Skeletor. I think it would add a bold new direction to the character.
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
i meant seconds, and, also, its over
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Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
The hotel which had once hosted the Summer Sun Celebration had seen better centuries. The aura of ruined opulence clung to the interior like its faded and peeling wallpaper. The air was dingy and filled with little motes of dust and decay. Small rains of plaster occasionally fell from the cracks in the ceiling.
The hotel was home to ponies who knew they were on a glorified death row.
Ponies sat along the bar, drinking their night away, knowing that tomorrow most of them would be slaughtered in bloody spectacle for the amusement of the crowds. Crowds full of fellow slaves who could somehow look into The Pit and not see themselves. Who could look... and actually cheer.
My heart felt sick as I walked quickly through the small throng of silent slave ponies. They glanced my way briefly, if at all. They didn't care. Why should they? We were, apparently, incapable of caring about each other.
I brushed dampness from my eyes and looked for the stairs. If I could make it to the roof, I could call Calamity and get the hell out of here.
I made my way up the Alpha-Omega, hooves plodding on rotting carpet. My EFS was picking up a host of friendly marks, but no sign of anypony (or griffin) who was hostile. I passed a painting of Celestia standing gracefully in what looked like a grand ballroom, a kind smile on her face, surrounded by colorful ponies in the fever of a party. The Summer Sun Celebration in full swing.
The painting was graying from age and dust.
"Goddesses, this is a depressing place," I muttered, almost wishing for more guards to come charging up behind me, if only so the adrenaline would shield me from the blanket of despair that was beginning to smother me.
Why weren't they? I should have all of Stern's armies on my tail by now. It's not like that sniper didn't see where I went.
Maybe they considered me trapped? But even then, I can't imagine they would just sit back and let me make a home in here. Why weren't they coming in?
I found the next flight of stairs and started up.
I was just clearing the top when all the friendly lights on my EFS started turning red. I was picking up dozens of hostiles now. Far too many; the lights burred together, making it impossible to identify the positions of individual opponents.
I floated up the automatic pistol and crouched low, hoping I could sneak past most of them.
The door opened, not by my horn or hoof, but by the telekinetic pull of a unicorn pony on the other side. I immediately slid into S.A.T.S., targeting the colt before he even saw me. And froze again.
A colt!
The child, who was floating a single-shot shotgun next to him inexpertly, wasn't even old enough to have a cutie mark.
Beyond him I saw other children, young fillies and colts all looking well-nourished, well cared for... and annoyingly well-armed. The room itself was brightly lit and recently painted in cheery colors. The worst of the cracks had been repaired (I suspected by magic), and the air was considerably cleaner. Unlike every other building used by either slavers or slaves, this floor had been restored to a fair reflection of its former glory. My eyes widened further as I spotted what was clearly a school room through the doorway opposite this one.
Red Eye's words echoed through my head:
Our nation's young ones are, and have always been, my highest priority. All that we sacrifice, we do for them, to give them a better place.
The scene before my eyes was simultaneously wonderful and horrifying.
Young children, ripped from the homes of their families and given to the care of "loving, approved mares and stallions." Their real families were dying in the city below, trapped and enslaved behind The Wall. While they themselves were being given the best possible care... probably the best possible life in the Equestrian Wasteland.
And they were being taught. Education. Indoctrination. Of course they loved him. They would be ready to kill for him.
Red Eye was building schools. And he was about to have the ability to print his own textbooks.
This scene was going to be repeated everywhere.
I couldn't do it. I killed S.A.T.S.
I couldn't sneak past all of them. And I couldn't, just couldn't, fight them.
"Hey!" the colt called down the stairs. "She's up here!"
I turned to flee, only to see a midnight blue alicorn moving silently up the stairs towards me.
I would have facehoofed if I had been given the chance. I had actually wondered why no one was coming in after me. By the Goddesses, how could I have forgotten some of these monsters can turn invisible?
The alicorn's horn was glowing. A metal apple floated towards me, the pin pulled. The alicorn would survive, but even if I did, the colt next to me would not. If there was time, I might have stopped to wonder why the alicorn would threaten a child if they were so clearly precious to Red Eye. But there was no time. Instinctively, I lashed out with my magic, trying to knock the grenade away.
I realized my mistake as the world started to slip away from me. The last thing I saw in this world was the alicorn drop the illusion that surrounded the memory orb.
They remembered. They learned. And I had been bested by my own trick.
• • •
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
Everything shot into almost brutal sharpness. Colors were more colorful. The lines around objects almost vibrant. The sunlight was sunnier than I had ever imagined it could be. Bright and warm and glorious beyond belief. I could smell the bush I was standing behind, the flowers nearby, the grass. I could smell the two ponies I was watching. The sweat on Applejack would have made me stir in recently wounded places if this had been my own body.
It was not, however -- a fact to which I was hyper-aware. I could feel a slight burning on my left forehoof, as if I'd recently touched a hot stove. I had an itch on my cheek, an odd pain in my hindlegs that was barely noticeable, a tingle along my back. There was a familiar and delicious peppermint taste on my tongue.
Oh no...
With dawning horror, I realized that my pony host was high on Mint-als.
Oh please no! I can't take this!
The effects were nowhere near as pronounced. I was getting the heightened perceptions, but none of the other effects. Still, it was too comfortable, too alluring.
"Howdy, Fluttershy," Applejack said, greeting her friend with a smile as the yellow pegaus landed gently on the grass as if worried about hurting it.
"Hello, Applejack," the pegasus said meekly.
"So, what brings ya about these parts?"
"Well..." The shy pegasus looked down, crossing one leg over the other. "I... um... that is..."
Applejack rolled her eyes. "Good gravy, girl. Spit it out, already. Is something wrong?"
The pegasus took a deep breath and then said in a rush, "Are you looking for a close marefriend? Because, if you are, we could... um... you know?" She paused, all too obviously having no clue what good marefriends did in the privacy of their own beds.
My host stifled a giggle as Applejack's eyes went wide. Then she scowled, trotting past the deeply blushing pegasus to slam her head repeatedly against a tree.
When she finished, she turned on Fluttershy. "All right. That's enough. What is it with all muh friends hittin' on me, pretendin' Ah'm a fillyfooler? Y'all know better. And y'all are straight." She took a step forward. Fluttershy eeped and took one back. "Fluttershy, Ah know you. So be straight with me."
The pun was probably not intended.
"Well..."
"Did Rainbow Dash put ya up to this?" Applejack demanded.
"oh!" Fluttershy squeaked but shook her head. "No."
Applejack looked dubious. "So yer sayin' ya just thought this up all by yer lonesome?"
Fluttershy shook her head.
"So Rainbow Dash did put ya up t' it!"
"No," she insisted softly. My host began to move, silently creeping out from behind the bush.
"But... somepony did?" Applejack sussed out. Her yellow friend nodded. "Who?"
My host had moved up behind Applejack so quickly and stealthily even I hadn't seen it happen. Still, it bewildered me how we could be standing this close and neither of the ponies seemed to notice us. Were we invisible? It certainly wouldn't be the first time I had found myself in a magically hidden being who was spying on the Ministry Mares. But I was clearly in an earth pony...
Applejack turned around only to find herself nose-to-nose with my host. Spooked, she jumped away so fast she toppled onto her back. "Pinkie Pie!"
"Hiya!" I felt my muzzle say, hearing the words in a high-pitched but pretty voice. "Aww! Ya caught me!"
"What in tarnation are..." The blonde-maned orange pony stopped. Then facehoofed while still lying on her back in a most undignified position. "You! This has all been one of yer and Rainbow's practical jokes, ain't it?"
"Yep!" I heard myself say happily as I began to bounce. Bounce!?
Applejack pulled herself back onto her hooves, staring at me and my host crossly. "Care if Ah ask why?"
"Well, you've been totally a mopey-pony since the funeral..."
"Of course Ah have!" Applejack shot. "Ah buried muh brother!"
"...and you've been working really, really hard," Pinkie Pie plowed on. "An' ya haven't been getting out, or going to parties, or seeing your friends. And you haven't even talked to a buck in, like, for-ev-er!..."
Applejack huffed. "How would ya know if Ah've..." She stopped abruptly, realizing just how stupid a question that was considering who she was asking. Fluttershy had slipped back a ways, almost hiding.
"...and you're all worked up and stressed and you're gonna burn yourself out if you aren't careful, and you really, really need to get laid!"
Applejack hung her head. Pinkie Pie was... incorrigible at best. "This ain't gonna end until Ah get myself a buckfriend, is it?"
"Nope!" Pinkie Pie announced bouncily. How the hell could she bounce on all hooves like that? I was inside her, and I still couldn't figure it out.
"Well, would it help if Ah said there is a buck Ah've had muh eye on?"
Pinkie Pie stopped bouncing and stared off into space. The itch on the side of her cheek migrated to her chin. She looked back to Applejack, "Yep, that's the truth. But itchy chin means you haven't told him yet. You gotta talk to him!"
Applejack sighed. "An' if Ah do, this nonsense stops?" I watched the world rock as Pinkie Pie nodded enthusiastically.
My host started chanting "Do it!" rambunctiously as she bounced in circles around Applejack.
"Fine." Applejack reached out a hoof and stopped Pinkie Pie. "On one condition!"
"What?"
"Y'all got ta swear..." Applejack turned to look at Fluttershy. "...Both o' ya, that Rainbow Dash don't hear a word o' this!"
"But..." Pinkie Pie started, "If Rainbow Dash doesn't know, how will she know that it's time t' stop the prank, silly?"
"Ah can deal with it from Rainbow," Applejack said sternly. "Least, now that Ah know where it's comin' from. But this possible buckfriend o' mine?... well, he's got a kinda funny name... an' Ah think Rainbow might not be able t' keep herself from messin' things up."
Wow, that came out badly. Applejack seemed to realize it too. "Look, Ah'll tell her muhself when Ah'm ready. Not b'fore." She looked at her two friends. "Now y'all Pinkie Pie Swear it!"
Pinkie Pie Swear?
My host's reaction was immediate. I struggled to keep track of the odd motions (which ended with sticking a hoof in my eye!) that accompanied the little singsong that Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy managed to do in perfect synchronicity.
"Cross my heart and hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye!"
Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. The three friends began to walk, my host falling slowly behind.
"Oh... there it is again."
Applejack and Fluttershy both stopped, looking back. "There what is?"
"Burning hoof means Littlepip's watching me," Pinkie Pie blurted out impossibly. "Or will be watching me. I'm not sure yet." She bounced after her friends. "Who's Littlepip?"
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
• • •
"The furnace pits?" Stern suggested, glaring at me. I was bound and shackled to the floor. And, as if that was not enough, two green-coated alicorns stood frozen beside me, trapping me inside a shield.
Not only had I done most of the things that Stern considered a death sentence, I had done them with aggressive results. I had still failed, but she took the time to name each slaver I managed to kill before my inevitable capture.
"No," said Red Eye, eliciting a look of shock and displeasure from the griffin. The cybernetically-augmented stallion walked up to face me. "I'm feeling particularly generous today."
I doubted I would much care for his definition of generosity. But the horrific tale of a pony being devoured from inside by an ever-growing number of parasprites left me thankful all the same.
Addressing me directly, Red Eye asked, "Do you think I'm a monster?"
Bluntly, I answered, "Yes."
He shrugged. "Because, of course, I am. And you, Stable Dweller, can probably see it more clearly than most. Because you and I are a lot alike, are we not."
"Not even slightly," I hissed, lying through my teeth.
Red Eye chuckled. "I've heard of your exploits. I think we are more the same than you would like. You've just had it easy so far."
Enraged, I spat, "Easy!? You think what I've been through out here has been easy!?"
Red Eye gave me an almost fatherly smile. "The fact that you can still stand there and judge me tells me so. You have had hardships I am sure. But you've never been forced to give up your principles for the greater good. To sacrifice yourself and become a monster because it was the right thing to do."
Oh how I disagreed!
"You couldn't do it even to escape," he noted. "For which, by the way, I am very grateful. Had you harmed a hair on even one of those children..." He paused, then simply said, "Thank you."
Red Eye turned towards Stern. His cape fell into view, a rough rectangle made from Stable security barding. The number 101 was visible in yellow against the black cloth.
"Take her back downstairs and keep her under shield. Tomorrow, she fights in The Pit."
• • •
Lined up in the darkness with five other ponies, I spent an hour rummaging through the recorded messages of Miss Periwinkle. Most were worthless, but one was actually from a Ministry Mare... and not the one I had been expecting.
"Dear Miss Periwinkle," the voice began. I found it very odd to hear an audio message addressed like it was a letter.
"It was a pleasure to hear from you again. The new posters for the libraries are absolutely perfect. I hope it will not be a burden to have two hundred produced by next week?
"I also have a... more delicate matter to ask you about.
"Let me preface this by saying that for decades now, ever since she taught me her gem-finding spell, Rarity and I have gotten together at irregular intervals to swap magical spells.
"I must admit, and please believe I do not say this to brag, it has been a long time since she brought anything that I hadn't already learned myself. That is, until three days ago.
"I was thrilled to see that she had learned a trick I had never seen before. She had enchanted a small mirror. To look in it, you would see your reflection, just as with any mirror. But if you touched it, or focused your magic on it, then a spell within the mirror took... well, the way she put it, the mirror took a picture of your soul. Then a second enchantment allowed the mirror to show that image. As Rarity told me, the mirror could show you what you looked like on the outside... or on the inside.
"I must admit... I wasn't ready for what I saw. And I'm still not sure about it. But that's... personal. Rather, I wanted to ask you if you could give me any clue as to where Rarity may have learned enchantments like that. I know Rarity would re-fashion any magical spell until it was customized to her wishes; but honestly, I've been scouring my books, but I've found nothing that even remotely resembles these spells. I know you have worked closely with her the last few months, so I hoped you would have an idea.
"Also, it's hardly worth mentioning, but the spell felt... cold. Not like Rarity's spells at all.
"Anyway, this is mostly just a matter of rampant curiosity, and I ask that you please not mention this to her. But if you have any idea, I really would appreciate it if you let me know.
"Your friend,
"Twilight Sparkle."
I deleted the messages from my PipBuck, but kept that one.
I sat in silent darkness with five other marked souls and waited.
• • •
The noise outside told me that the seating around the arena was quickly filling. I heard Stern, her voice magnified over the speakers, welcoming everypony to the bloody show. I heard hooves pounding bleachers in applause.
My face twisted in disgust. How could they? This was sick.
Earlier, a slave master pony had attached a sheet to my flank, covering my cutie mark. She had snarled and whispered to me her fondest desires that my suffering be deep and excruciating and very slow. She had known one of the rapist slavers. The only reason I survived being numbered was because Stern was watching, but she still got away with covering the bottom side of the sheet with some sort of stinging powder that was making it hard for me to concentrate.
I was number three.
Blood and Daff were numbers one and two, respectively. They sat closest to the gate, looking out at the arena -- a large plot of broken cement underneath a cage from which several barrels were suspended. I could see pressure plates set up like mines all over. Neither of them had spoken to me, going out of their way to ignore my existence. I couldn't decide whether to be hurt or relieved.
"Used to be an ice skating rink," the blue-colored buck with number four on his flank said conversationally. "Apparently, the owner of the FunFarm had a thing for ice skating. Just be thankful that Red Eye removed the water talisman and put it to better use. These fights are brutal enough without having to do them on ice."
I tried to imagine that and just couldn't. Outside the crowds began to chant for the first fight, their hoofstomps falling into a unity that would make the Goddess proud. Part of me wanted to hurt them. And these were the ponies I was trying to save.
"Hey, consider yourself lucky," the blue buck joked. "Being number three ain't bad. Has anypony told you how these things work?"
I shook my head. The roar outside rose to a crescendo. There was a loud buzz, then a clanging sound as the gate was levitated up by a unicorn nopony inside could see.
"Round one!" Stern's voice boomed.
"From the Red Gate: all the way from the Rock Farms, we have Cinderblock! This is his second Event, so you know he's got some hooves on him! And from the Black Gate: she's tough, she's mean, she's a raider with a body count higher than the spikes in her hair... it's Blood!"
Blood got up, looking dejectedly at the open gate for a moment, then held her head up and trotted out, putting on a brave face that I didn't believe even a little bit.
"You see," Number Four was telling me, "There are two gates. We're Black Gate. Each gate has six fighters, randomly numbered. If you survive your first round, you will be pitted against the next opponent from the Red Gate. Event lasts until all the opponents from one gate are dead. The survivors from the other gate live fight in the next Event."
I looked at Blood and winced. "So, basically, it sucks to be number one." I couldn't believe I was feeling sympathy for the vile raider mare.
"Well, it's a give and take," Number Four said. I looked at him quizzically. "I mean, true, if you're a high enough number, it's possible you won't have to fight at all. And anypony who survives six Events is set free. Doesn't matter if he actually fought or not." I got the feeling that Number Four had made it through at least one Event just that way.
"You even get a spot in Red Eye's army!" he added enthusiastically. I considered pointing out to him the sort of position Red Eye would likely appoint him to if he never won a fight. But I kept my muzzle shut.
The sudden roar of the crowd snapped my attention back to the arena. Blood was down, soaking in a pool of her own... well, blood. Cinderblock, an athletic-looking light grey buck, was rearing his hooves in victory. The fight had lasted seconds.
My heart sank.
"What was the benefit of being first again?" I asked dully.
Number Four leaned close, apparently unable to comprehend personal space. "Well, you see those barrels? And you see those plates?" I nodded to each. "Step on a plate, the barrel above drops. Now the barrels are full of nasty stuff. Usually radioactive goo, but sometimes its something worse. I heard they once had one filled with tainted ooze."
I shuddered, looking up at the cage that had been constructed over the arena and the barrels hanging from it. A few griffins flew high above, watching the show with binoculars or through rifle scopes. My eyes caught a swinging door built into the cage, kept closed by a simple padlock.
"Round Two!" Stern cried out.
"From the Black Gate, we have Daffodil!" The crowd broke into snickers and chortles as Daff got up and stepped out into the arena. He took one look at the bloody corpse of his companion and then locked Cinderblock with a hard stare that I could almost feel from behind him.
Daffodil charged at the light grey pony. Cinderblock ran... not towards him, but towards one of the pressure plates. The barrel above didn't exactly drop. Rather, as the grey pony raced across the plate, the underside of the barrel swung open and a dozen mines rained down, hitting the ground and bouncing in all directions. Daff changed direction with a deftness I would not have expected.
The mines were rigged for fast detonation, only beeping once before exploding in a flash of smoke and shrapnel. Cinderblock had almost been fast enough, but his hind legs were peppered and torn as he was flung forward. He was still struggling to get back on his bleeding legs when Daff reached him.
I knew how hard those hooves hit. But seeing this, I suspected that Daff had held back when he bucked the living fuck out of me. Even with his last, low blow.
The crowd beat their hooves and cried out for more as Daff pummeled the other buck, breaking first his legs, then every other bone he could before killing him.
I tasted bile.
"Mines," Number Four mused. "Well, that was a new one." I shot him a dark look. "Hey, like I was saying, those barrels have nasty things. But they also always have a weapon or two in them. So if you're first, you get your pick of the prizes. And if you go last, well... you go up against an opponent with their choice of weapons, in an arena filled with ooze and Goddess knows what else, and all you have are your hooves. Fighting last sucks."
"Round Three!" Stern finally announced after Daff had stopped brutalizing Cinderblock and started just beating a dead pony.
"From the Black Gate, we still have Daffodil, after a surprising and entertaining first performance. I don't think any of you ponies are snickering at his name now, are you?"
The crowd applauded the crimson-splattered buck whose angry-flower cutie mark was now partially visible behind his number two patch, which was sagging and wet with Cinderblock's lifeblood.
"And now, the one I know you've all been waiting for!"
The crowd hushed with gleeful anticipation.
"From the Red Gate: she's demonic, she's exotic, and she has never lost a fight! Give it up for our Champion four-Events-running! Xenith!"
My first thought, struck in my brain at the word "exotic", was a pegasus mare. The idea of facing a flying opponent in this arena was terrifying. And, if she was as good as advertised, I would be facing her as soon as she finished killing Daff.
The Red Gate opened and Xenith stepped out into the arena to absolutely thunderous, overwhelming applause. From her grim expression, she wasn't enjoying it one bit. From the look she gave Daff, she was going to kill him, she knew it and it brought her no pleasure at all.
From her lack of wings, she wasn't a pegasus. From her stripes, she wasn't even a pony.
"She's a zebra!"
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Cooler Under Fire – You regenerate Action Points faster. How much faster? You guessed it: 20% faster!
The hotel was home to ponies who knew they were on a glorified death row.
Ponies sat along the bar, drinking their night away, knowing that tomorrow most of them would be slaughtered in bloody spectacle for the amusement of the crowds. Crowds full of fellow slaves who could somehow look into The Pit and not see themselves. Who could look... and actually cheer.
My heart felt sick as I walked quickly through the small throng of silent slave ponies. They glanced my way briefly, if at all. They didn't care. Why should they? We were, apparently, incapable of caring about each other.
I brushed dampness from my eyes and looked for the stairs. If I could make it to the roof, I could call Calamity and get the hell out of here.
I made my way up the Alpha-Omega, hooves plodding on rotting carpet. My EFS was picking up a host of friendly marks, but no sign of anypony (or griffin) who was hostile. I passed a painting of Celestia standing gracefully in what looked like a grand ballroom, a kind smile on her face, surrounded by colorful ponies in the fever of a party. The Summer Sun Celebration in full swing.
The painting was graying from age and dust.
"Goddesses, this is a depressing place," I muttered, almost wishing for more guards to come charging up behind me, if only so the adrenaline would shield me from the blanket of despair that was beginning to smother me.
Why weren't they? I should have all of Stern's armies on my tail by now. It's not like that sniper didn't see where I went.
Maybe they considered me trapped? But even then, I can't imagine they would just sit back and let me make a home in here. Why weren't they coming in?
I found the next flight of stairs and started up.
I was just clearing the top when all the friendly lights on my EFS started turning red. I was picking up dozens of hostiles now. Far too many; the lights burred together, making it impossible to identify the positions of individual opponents.
I floated up the automatic pistol and crouched low, hoping I could sneak past most of them.
The door opened, not by my horn or hoof, but by the telekinetic pull of a unicorn pony on the other side. I immediately slid into S.A.T.S., targeting the colt before he even saw me. And froze again.
A colt!
The child, who was floating a single-shot shotgun next to him inexpertly, wasn't even old enough to have a cutie mark.
Beyond him I saw other children, young fillies and colts all looking well-nourished, well cared for... and annoyingly well-armed. The room itself was brightly lit and recently painted in cheery colors. The worst of the cracks had been repaired (I suspected by magic), and the air was considerably cleaner. Unlike every other building used by either slavers or slaves, this floor had been restored to a fair reflection of its former glory. My eyes widened further as I spotted what was clearly a school room through the doorway opposite this one.
Red Eye's words echoed through my head:
Our nation's young ones are, and have always been, my highest priority. All that we sacrifice, we do for them, to give them a better place.
The scene before my eyes was simultaneously wonderful and horrifying.
Young children, ripped from the homes of their families and given to the care of "loving, approved mares and stallions." Their real families were dying in the city below, trapped and enslaved behind The Wall. While they themselves were being given the best possible care... probably the best possible life in the Equestrian Wasteland.
And they were being taught. Education. Indoctrination. Of course they loved him. They would be ready to kill for him.
Red Eye was building schools. And he was about to have the ability to print his own textbooks.
This scene was going to be repeated everywhere.
I couldn't do it. I killed S.A.T.S.
I couldn't sneak past all of them. And I couldn't, just couldn't, fight them.
"Hey!" the colt called down the stairs. "She's up here!"
I turned to flee, only to see a midnight blue alicorn moving silently up the stairs towards me.
I would have facehoofed if I had been given the chance. I had actually wondered why no one was coming in after me. By the Goddesses, how could I have forgotten some of these monsters can turn invisible?
The alicorn's horn was glowing. A metal apple floated towards me, the pin pulled. The alicorn would survive, but even if I did, the colt next to me would not. If there was time, I might have stopped to wonder why the alicorn would threaten a child if they were so clearly precious to Red Eye. But there was no time. Instinctively, I lashed out with my magic, trying to knock the grenade away.
I realized my mistake as the world started to slip away from me. The last thing I saw in this world was the alicorn drop the illusion that surrounded the memory orb.
They remembered. They learned. And I had been bested by my own trick.
• • •
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
Everything shot into almost brutal sharpness. Colors were more colorful. The lines around objects almost vibrant. The sunlight was sunnier than I had ever imagined it could be. Bright and warm and glorious beyond belief. I could smell the bush I was standing behind, the flowers nearby, the grass. I could smell the two ponies I was watching. The sweat on Applejack would have made me stir in recently wounded places if this had been my own body.
It was not, however -- a fact to which I was hyper-aware. I could feel a slight burning on my left forehoof, as if I'd recently touched a hot stove. I had an itch on my cheek, an odd pain in my hindlegs that was barely noticeable, a tingle along my back. There was a familiar and delicious peppermint taste on my tongue.
Oh no...
With dawning horror, I realized that my pony host was high on Mint-als.
Oh please no! I can't take this!
The effects were nowhere near as pronounced. I was getting the heightened perceptions, but none of the other effects. Still, it was too comfortable, too alluring.
"Howdy, Fluttershy," Applejack said, greeting her friend with a smile as the yellow pegaus landed gently on the grass as if worried about hurting it.
"Hello, Applejack," the pegasus said meekly.
"So, what brings ya about these parts?"
"Well..." The shy pegasus looked down, crossing one leg over the other. "I... um... that is..."
Applejack rolled her eyes. "Good gravy, girl. Spit it out, already. Is something wrong?"
The pegasus took a deep breath and then said in a rush, "Are you looking for a close marefriend? Because, if you are, we could... um... you know?" She paused, all too obviously having no clue what good marefriends did in the privacy of their own beds.
My host stifled a giggle as Applejack's eyes went wide. Then she scowled, trotting past the deeply blushing pegasus to slam her head repeatedly against a tree.
When she finished, she turned on Fluttershy. "All right. That's enough. What is it with all muh friends hittin' on me, pretendin' Ah'm a fillyfooler? Y'all know better. And y'all are straight." She took a step forward. Fluttershy eeped and took one back. "Fluttershy, Ah know you. So be straight with me."
The pun was probably not intended.
"Well..."
"Did Rainbow Dash put ya up to this?" Applejack demanded.
"oh!" Fluttershy squeaked but shook her head. "No."
Applejack looked dubious. "So yer sayin' ya just thought this up all by yer lonesome?"
Fluttershy shook her head.
"So Rainbow Dash did put ya up t' it!"
"No," she insisted softly. My host began to move, silently creeping out from behind the bush.
"But... somepony did?" Applejack sussed out. Her yellow friend nodded. "Who?"
My host had moved up behind Applejack so quickly and stealthily even I hadn't seen it happen. Still, it bewildered me how we could be standing this close and neither of the ponies seemed to notice us. Were we invisible? It certainly wouldn't be the first time I had found myself in a magically hidden being who was spying on the Ministry Mares. But I was clearly in an earth pony...
Applejack turned around only to find herself nose-to-nose with my host. Spooked, she jumped away so fast she toppled onto her back. "Pinkie Pie!"
"Hiya!" I felt my muzzle say, hearing the words in a high-pitched but pretty voice. "Aww! Ya caught me!"
"What in tarnation are..." The blonde-maned orange pony stopped. Then facehoofed while still lying on her back in a most undignified position. "You! This has all been one of yer and Rainbow's practical jokes, ain't it?"
"Yep!" I heard myself say happily as I began to bounce. Bounce!?
Applejack pulled herself back onto her hooves, staring at me and my host crossly. "Care if Ah ask why?"
"Well, you've been totally a mopey-pony since the funeral..."
"Of course Ah have!" Applejack shot. "Ah buried muh brother!"
"...and you've been working really, really hard," Pinkie Pie plowed on. "An' ya haven't been getting out, or going to parties, or seeing your friends. And you haven't even talked to a buck in, like, for-ev-er!..."
Applejack huffed. "How would ya know if Ah've..." She stopped abruptly, realizing just how stupid a question that was considering who she was asking. Fluttershy had slipped back a ways, almost hiding.
"...and you're all worked up and stressed and you're gonna burn yourself out if you aren't careful, and you really, really need to get laid!"
Applejack hung her head. Pinkie Pie was... incorrigible at best. "This ain't gonna end until Ah get myself a buckfriend, is it?"
"Nope!" Pinkie Pie announced bouncily. How the hell could she bounce on all hooves like that? I was inside her, and I still couldn't figure it out.
"Well, would it help if Ah said there is a buck Ah've had muh eye on?"
Pinkie Pie stopped bouncing and stared off into space. The itch on the side of her cheek migrated to her chin. She looked back to Applejack, "Yep, that's the truth. But itchy chin means you haven't told him yet. You gotta talk to him!"
Applejack sighed. "An' if Ah do, this nonsense stops?" I watched the world rock as Pinkie Pie nodded enthusiastically.
My host started chanting "Do it!" rambunctiously as she bounced in circles around Applejack.
"Fine." Applejack reached out a hoof and stopped Pinkie Pie. "On one condition!"
"What?"
"Y'all got ta swear..." Applejack turned to look at Fluttershy. "...Both o' ya, that Rainbow Dash don't hear a word o' this!"
"But..." Pinkie Pie started, "If Rainbow Dash doesn't know, how will she know that it's time t' stop the prank, silly?"
"Ah can deal with it from Rainbow," Applejack said sternly. "Least, now that Ah know where it's comin' from. But this possible buckfriend o' mine?... well, he's got a kinda funny name... an' Ah think Rainbow might not be able t' keep herself from messin' things up."
Wow, that came out badly. Applejack seemed to realize it too. "Look, Ah'll tell her muhself when Ah'm ready. Not b'fore." She looked at her two friends. "Now y'all Pinkie Pie Swear it!"
Pinkie Pie Swear?
My host's reaction was immediate. I struggled to keep track of the odd motions (which ended with sticking a hoof in my eye!) that accompanied the little singsong that Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy managed to do in perfect synchronicity.
"Cross my heart and hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye!"
Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. The three friends began to walk, my host falling slowly behind.
"Oh... there it is again."
Applejack and Fluttershy both stopped, looking back. "There what is?"
"Burning hoof means Littlepip's watching me," Pinkie Pie blurted out impossibly. "Or will be watching me. I'm not sure yet." She bounced after her friends. "Who's Littlepip?"
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
• • •
"The furnace pits?" Stern suggested, glaring at me. I was bound and shackled to the floor. And, as if that was not enough, two green-coated alicorns stood frozen beside me, trapping me inside a shield.
Not only had I done most of the things that Stern considered a death sentence, I had done them with aggressive results. I had still failed, but she took the time to name each slaver I managed to kill before my inevitable capture.
"No," said Red Eye, eliciting a look of shock and displeasure from the griffin. The cybernetically-augmented stallion walked up to face me. "I'm feeling particularly generous today."
I doubted I would much care for his definition of generosity. But the horrific tale of a pony being devoured from inside by an ever-growing number of parasprites left me thankful all the same.
Addressing me directly, Red Eye asked, "Do you think I'm a monster?"
Bluntly, I answered, "Yes."
He shrugged. "Because, of course, I am. And you, Stable Dweller, can probably see it more clearly than most. Because you and I are a lot alike, are we not."
"Not even slightly," I hissed, lying through my teeth.
Red Eye chuckled. "I've heard of your exploits. I think we are more the same than you would like. You've just had it easy so far."
Enraged, I spat, "Easy!? You think what I've been through out here has been easy!?"
Red Eye gave me an almost fatherly smile. "The fact that you can still stand there and judge me tells me so. You have had hardships I am sure. But you've never been forced to give up your principles for the greater good. To sacrifice yourself and become a monster because it was the right thing to do."
Oh how I disagreed!
"You couldn't do it even to escape," he noted. "For which, by the way, I am very grateful. Had you harmed a hair on even one of those children..." He paused, then simply said, "Thank you."
Red Eye turned towards Stern. His cape fell into view, a rough rectangle made from Stable security barding. The number 101 was visible in yellow against the black cloth.
"Take her back downstairs and keep her under shield. Tomorrow, she fights in The Pit."
• • •
Lined up in the darkness with five other ponies, I spent an hour rummaging through the recorded messages of Miss Periwinkle. Most were worthless, but one was actually from a Ministry Mare... and not the one I had been expecting.
"Dear Miss Periwinkle," the voice began. I found it very odd to hear an audio message addressed like it was a letter.
"It was a pleasure to hear from you again. The new posters for the libraries are absolutely perfect. I hope it will not be a burden to have two hundred produced by next week?
"I also have a... more delicate matter to ask you about.
"Let me preface this by saying that for decades now, ever since she taught me her gem-finding spell, Rarity and I have gotten together at irregular intervals to swap magical spells.
"I must admit, and please believe I do not say this to brag, it has been a long time since she brought anything that I hadn't already learned myself. That is, until three days ago.
"I was thrilled to see that she had learned a trick I had never seen before. She had enchanted a small mirror. To look in it, you would see your reflection, just as with any mirror. But if you touched it, or focused your magic on it, then a spell within the mirror took... well, the way she put it, the mirror took a picture of your soul. Then a second enchantment allowed the mirror to show that image. As Rarity told me, the mirror could show you what you looked like on the outside... or on the inside.
"I must admit... I wasn't ready for what I saw. And I'm still not sure about it. But that's... personal. Rather, I wanted to ask you if you could give me any clue as to where Rarity may have learned enchantments like that. I know Rarity would re-fashion any magical spell until it was customized to her wishes; but honestly, I've been scouring my books, but I've found nothing that even remotely resembles these spells. I know you have worked closely with her the last few months, so I hoped you would have an idea.
"Also, it's hardly worth mentioning, but the spell felt... cold. Not like Rarity's spells at all.
"Anyway, this is mostly just a matter of rampant curiosity, and I ask that you please not mention this to her. But if you have any idea, I really would appreciate it if you let me know.
"Your friend,
"Twilight Sparkle."
I deleted the messages from my PipBuck, but kept that one.
I sat in silent darkness with five other marked souls and waited.
• • •
The noise outside told me that the seating around the arena was quickly filling. I heard Stern, her voice magnified over the speakers, welcoming everypony to the bloody show. I heard hooves pounding bleachers in applause.
My face twisted in disgust. How could they? This was sick.
Earlier, a slave master pony had attached a sheet to my flank, covering my cutie mark. She had snarled and whispered to me her fondest desires that my suffering be deep and excruciating and very slow. She had known one of the rapist slavers. The only reason I survived being numbered was because Stern was watching, but she still got away with covering the bottom side of the sheet with some sort of stinging powder that was making it hard for me to concentrate.
I was number three.
Blood and Daff were numbers one and two, respectively. They sat closest to the gate, looking out at the arena -- a large plot of broken cement underneath a cage from which several barrels were suspended. I could see pressure plates set up like mines all over. Neither of them had spoken to me, going out of their way to ignore my existence. I couldn't decide whether to be hurt or relieved.
"Used to be an ice skating rink," the blue-colored buck with number four on his flank said conversationally. "Apparently, the owner of the FunFarm had a thing for ice skating. Just be thankful that Red Eye removed the water talisman and put it to better use. These fights are brutal enough without having to do them on ice."
I tried to imagine that and just couldn't. Outside the crowds began to chant for the first fight, their hoofstomps falling into a unity that would make the Goddess proud. Part of me wanted to hurt them. And these were the ponies I was trying to save.
"Hey, consider yourself lucky," the blue buck joked. "Being number three ain't bad. Has anypony told you how these things work?"
I shook my head. The roar outside rose to a crescendo. There was a loud buzz, then a clanging sound as the gate was levitated up by a unicorn nopony inside could see.
"Round one!" Stern's voice boomed.
"From the Red Gate: all the way from the Rock Farms, we have Cinderblock! This is his second Event, so you know he's got some hooves on him! And from the Black Gate: she's tough, she's mean, she's a raider with a body count higher than the spikes in her hair... it's Blood!"
Blood got up, looking dejectedly at the open gate for a moment, then held her head up and trotted out, putting on a brave face that I didn't believe even a little bit.
"You see," Number Four was telling me, "There are two gates. We're Black Gate. Each gate has six fighters, randomly numbered. If you survive your first round, you will be pitted against the next opponent from the Red Gate. Event lasts until all the opponents from one gate are dead. The survivors from the other gate live fight in the next Event."
I looked at Blood and winced. "So, basically, it sucks to be number one." I couldn't believe I was feeling sympathy for the vile raider mare.
"Well, it's a give and take," Number Four said. I looked at him quizzically. "I mean, true, if you're a high enough number, it's possible you won't have to fight at all. And anypony who survives six Events is set free. Doesn't matter if he actually fought or not." I got the feeling that Number Four had made it through at least one Event just that way.
"You even get a spot in Red Eye's army!" he added enthusiastically. I considered pointing out to him the sort of position Red Eye would likely appoint him to if he never won a fight. But I kept my muzzle shut.
The sudden roar of the crowd snapped my attention back to the arena. Blood was down, soaking in a pool of her own... well, blood. Cinderblock, an athletic-looking light grey buck, was rearing his hooves in victory. The fight had lasted seconds.
My heart sank.
"What was the benefit of being first again?" I asked dully.
Number Four leaned close, apparently unable to comprehend personal space. "Well, you see those barrels? And you see those plates?" I nodded to each. "Step on a plate, the barrel above drops. Now the barrels are full of nasty stuff. Usually radioactive goo, but sometimes its something worse. I heard they once had one filled with tainted ooze."
I shuddered, looking up at the cage that had been constructed over the arena and the barrels hanging from it. A few griffins flew high above, watching the show with binoculars or through rifle scopes. My eyes caught a swinging door built into the cage, kept closed by a simple padlock.
"Round Two!" Stern cried out.
"From the Black Gate, we have Daffodil!" The crowd broke into snickers and chortles as Daff got up and stepped out into the arena. He took one look at the bloody corpse of his companion and then locked Cinderblock with a hard stare that I could almost feel from behind him.
Daffodil charged at the light grey pony. Cinderblock ran... not towards him, but towards one of the pressure plates. The barrel above didn't exactly drop. Rather, as the grey pony raced across the plate, the underside of the barrel swung open and a dozen mines rained down, hitting the ground and bouncing in all directions. Daff changed direction with a deftness I would not have expected.
The mines were rigged for fast detonation, only beeping once before exploding in a flash of smoke and shrapnel. Cinderblock had almost been fast enough, but his hind legs were peppered and torn as he was flung forward. He was still struggling to get back on his bleeding legs when Daff reached him.
I knew how hard those hooves hit. But seeing this, I suspected that Daff had held back when he bucked the living fuck out of me. Even with his last, low blow.
The crowd beat their hooves and cried out for more as Daff pummeled the other buck, breaking first his legs, then every other bone he could before killing him.
I tasted bile.
"Mines," Number Four mused. "Well, that was a new one." I shot him a dark look. "Hey, like I was saying, those barrels have nasty things. But they also always have a weapon or two in them. So if you're first, you get your pick of the prizes. And if you go last, well... you go up against an opponent with their choice of weapons, in an arena filled with ooze and Goddess knows what else, and all you have are your hooves. Fighting last sucks."
"Round Three!" Stern finally announced after Daff had stopped brutalizing Cinderblock and started just beating a dead pony.
"From the Black Gate, we still have Daffodil, after a surprising and entertaining first performance. I don't think any of you ponies are snickering at his name now, are you?"
The crowd applauded the crimson-splattered buck whose angry-flower cutie mark was now partially visible behind his number two patch, which was sagging and wet with Cinderblock's lifeblood.
"And now, the one I know you've all been waiting for!"
The crowd hushed with gleeful anticipation.
"From the Red Gate: she's demonic, she's exotic, and she has never lost a fight! Give it up for our Champion four-Events-running! Xenith!"
My first thought, struck in my brain at the word "exotic", was a pegasus mare. The idea of facing a flying opponent in this arena was terrifying. And, if she was as good as advertised, I would be facing her as soon as she finished killing Daff.
The Red Gate opened and Xenith stepped out into the arena to absolutely thunderous, overwhelming applause. From her grim expression, she wasn't enjoying it one bit. From the look she gave Daff, she was going to kill him, she knew it and it brought her no pleasure at all.
From her lack of wings, she wasn't a pegasus. From her stripes, she wasn't even a pony.
"She's a zebra!"
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Cooler Under Fire – You regenerate Action Points faster. How much faster? You guessed it: 20% faster!
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CorvusCaw
- Posts: 155
- Joined: Tue Oct 31, 2017 10:39 pm
- Gender: Female
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
wenty-first century science and technology make it possible for all the world's people to have good food, good health, good education, a good job and a fulfilling life.
What stands in the way? Capitali$m - an economic and political system that puts profits before people.
Q: What's wrong with capitalism?
A: It puts profits before people.
The heart of capitalism is the drive for more and more profits for banks and corporations no matter what happens to our nation's people and environment. The results of this built-in greed are horrible:
20 million people out of work, including 25% of our young adults.
Exporting jobs to wherever workers get paid the least. Wiping out American industry.
Draining the public treasury with tax breaks and bailouts for the super-rich and giant corporations.
People's needs go down the toilet. Public schools, health services, parks, libraries, and transit systems are cut back or closed.
Poisoning our drinking water, air, food supply and oceans.
Cutting workers' pay and benefits, stealing pensions.
Corruption of Congress and our democratic institutions by corporate dollars and lobbyists.
Denying workers the right to join unions.
Record levels of inequality.
Greed for profits is the impetus for war - for oil, for domination of other countries' markets and profits of military contractors.
Capitalism foments racism, sexism, homophobia and anti-immigrant campaigns.
Capitalism is un-American. Instead of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, it traps us in a political system and economy focused on greed and the pursuit of private profits.
FACT: The richest 400 people in America have more wealth than 155 million other Americans combined!
FACT: The average corporate executive makes $500 for every $1 paid to the average worker even though it is the workers who actually create our nation's wealth.
In a socialist economy, people come first, not profits
Socialism means re-structuring our economy to be fairer and more democratic.
Right now Americans already produce our nation's wealth socially. We work together in factories, offices, schools, stores, laboratories, hospitals and on farms and construction sites.
What's not decided together is how the wealth we create could be fairly distributed. In a socialist economy, there would be social ownership and social control instead of private ownership and control.
The people would decide. The deciding factor would no longer be what's best for corporate profits.
Banks, oil companies, utilities and key sectors of the economy such as steel and transportation would be publicly owned and operated.
Small business would still be a vital part of the process
There would be enough resources freed up to fully fund public education, health care, mass transit, child care and any other priorities the American people decide on.
In a socialist society, people would get paid for the work they do and rewarded for the initiatives they take. The difference? No corporate big shots getting paid billions for the work others do.
War, racism, sexism and homophobia would lose their corporate sponsors.
Reversing climate change, developing green industries, and sustainability would be top priorities. No doubt millions of young people would lead the way with such initiatives.
The rich and diverse multi-cultural American heritage could flourish in music, literature, dance, sports, film and art.
Bill of Rights socialism
Socialism in the United States would be built on the strong foundation of our Constitution's Bill of Rights, guaranteeing freedom of speech, freedom of religion and equality for all. Other fundamental rights, such as the right to a job, health care and education could be added.
A socialist society would need to create organizations at the grass roots level to assure democratic controls.
Americans already have great traditions of such grass roots organizations such as town hall meetings, PTAs, unions, churches and charitable organizations. In a socialist society, we could expand those traditions to make our country's economic life more democratic.
Another world is necessary - and possible!
How do we get there?
Capitalism in the United States can and will be replaced with a people-first socialist system. This will happen when a majority of our country's people are convinced of the need for such revolutionary change and are ready to make it happen.
To make that change will require a very broad coalition, a movement with workers, including unemployed workers, at its heart. This coalition must also include small business people, students and professionals. The union movement as well as African American, Latino, Asian American, immigrant and Native American communities will be central parts of that alliance. The involvement of youth, women, seniors, the LGBT community, environmentalists and people of faith is vital. It will be the same kind of people's movement that is fighting for progress today, but even bigger and broader.
We can gain this majority by uniting for people's needs. That means combating racism, sexism, anti-immigrant hysteria, and homophobia. It means showing in the course of grass roots struggles how these are used to divide and conquer the movement for progressive change. In the fight for jobs, education, the environment, health care, peace and human rights, at the workplace, at the polling place and in the community, this unity can be built.
Americans already have lots of experience with public ownership
Here are some examples:
Bank of North Dakota - founded in 1919, its profits go to benefit the people of that state.
Credit union - 87 million Americans participate in these local financial institutions that are owned and controlled by their members.
Cleveland Public Power - which provides electricity at affordable rates to that city.
Cooperative societies - farmer co-ops, housing, co-ops, food co-ops, etc.
Union pension funds.
Social Security.
Veteran's Administration health care network.
16,000 municipally owned and operated sewage treatment systems.
Tennessee Valley Authority - provides electrical power for 8.5 million Americans in 7 states.
Some famous American socialists: Angela Davis, Juan Chacon, W.E.B. DuBois, Paul Robeson, Helen Keller, Woody Guthrie, Eugene Debs, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, Albert Einstein.
More on socialism and social change on the People Before Profits Network:
Communist Party USA | cpusa.org
What stands in the way? Capitali$m - an economic and political system that puts profits before people.
Q: What's wrong with capitalism?
A: It puts profits before people.
The heart of capitalism is the drive for more and more profits for banks and corporations no matter what happens to our nation's people and environment. The results of this built-in greed are horrible:
20 million people out of work, including 25% of our young adults.
Exporting jobs to wherever workers get paid the least. Wiping out American industry.
Draining the public treasury with tax breaks and bailouts for the super-rich and giant corporations.
People's needs go down the toilet. Public schools, health services, parks, libraries, and transit systems are cut back or closed.
Poisoning our drinking water, air, food supply and oceans.
Cutting workers' pay and benefits, stealing pensions.
Corruption of Congress and our democratic institutions by corporate dollars and lobbyists.
Denying workers the right to join unions.
Record levels of inequality.
Greed for profits is the impetus for war - for oil, for domination of other countries' markets and profits of military contractors.
Capitalism foments racism, sexism, homophobia and anti-immigrant campaigns.
Capitalism is un-American. Instead of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, it traps us in a political system and economy focused on greed and the pursuit of private profits.
FACT: The richest 400 people in America have more wealth than 155 million other Americans combined!
FACT: The average corporate executive makes $500 for every $1 paid to the average worker even though it is the workers who actually create our nation's wealth.
In a socialist economy, people come first, not profits
Socialism means re-structuring our economy to be fairer and more democratic.
Right now Americans already produce our nation's wealth socially. We work together in factories, offices, schools, stores, laboratories, hospitals and on farms and construction sites.
What's not decided together is how the wealth we create could be fairly distributed. In a socialist economy, there would be social ownership and social control instead of private ownership and control.
The people would decide. The deciding factor would no longer be what's best for corporate profits.
Banks, oil companies, utilities and key sectors of the economy such as steel and transportation would be publicly owned and operated.
Small business would still be a vital part of the process
There would be enough resources freed up to fully fund public education, health care, mass transit, child care and any other priorities the American people decide on.
In a socialist society, people would get paid for the work they do and rewarded for the initiatives they take. The difference? No corporate big shots getting paid billions for the work others do.
War, racism, sexism and homophobia would lose their corporate sponsors.
Reversing climate change, developing green industries, and sustainability would be top priorities. No doubt millions of young people would lead the way with such initiatives.
The rich and diverse multi-cultural American heritage could flourish in music, literature, dance, sports, film and art.
Bill of Rights socialism
Socialism in the United States would be built on the strong foundation of our Constitution's Bill of Rights, guaranteeing freedom of speech, freedom of religion and equality for all. Other fundamental rights, such as the right to a job, health care and education could be added.
A socialist society would need to create organizations at the grass roots level to assure democratic controls.
Americans already have great traditions of such grass roots organizations such as town hall meetings, PTAs, unions, churches and charitable organizations. In a socialist society, we could expand those traditions to make our country's economic life more democratic.
Another world is necessary - and possible!
How do we get there?
Capitalism in the United States can and will be replaced with a people-first socialist system. This will happen when a majority of our country's people are convinced of the need for such revolutionary change and are ready to make it happen.
To make that change will require a very broad coalition, a movement with workers, including unemployed workers, at its heart. This coalition must also include small business people, students and professionals. The union movement as well as African American, Latino, Asian American, immigrant and Native American communities will be central parts of that alliance. The involvement of youth, women, seniors, the LGBT community, environmentalists and people of faith is vital. It will be the same kind of people's movement that is fighting for progress today, but even bigger and broader.
We can gain this majority by uniting for people's needs. That means combating racism, sexism, anti-immigrant hysteria, and homophobia. It means showing in the course of grass roots struggles how these are used to divide and conquer the movement for progressive change. In the fight for jobs, education, the environment, health care, peace and human rights, at the workplace, at the polling place and in the community, this unity can be built.
Americans already have lots of experience with public ownership
Here are some examples:
Bank of North Dakota - founded in 1919, its profits go to benefit the people of that state.
Credit union - 87 million Americans participate in these local financial institutions that are owned and controlled by their members.
Cleveland Public Power - which provides electricity at affordable rates to that city.
Cooperative societies - farmer co-ops, housing, co-ops, food co-ops, etc.
Union pension funds.
Social Security.
Veteran's Administration health care network.
16,000 municipally owned and operated sewage treatment systems.
Tennessee Valley Authority - provides electrical power for 8.5 million Americans in 7 states.
Some famous American socialists: Angela Davis, Juan Chacon, W.E.B. DuBois, Paul Robeson, Helen Keller, Woody Guthrie, Eugene Debs, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, Albert Einstein.
More on socialism and social change on the People Before Profits Network:
Communist Party USA | cpusa.org
-
BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Even post today was a little bit better than the laast, except when i posted
-
Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Xenith by Kkat
"The fate of Equestria does not rest on me making friends."
Zebras.
Equestria's enemies. The creatures who slaughtered us by the millions and destroyed our lands with poisoned clouds and balefire bombs.
The creatures which were constantly portrayed as demonic, nightmarish, virtually without souls. Creatures who, according to the propaganda of the Ministry of Image, embodied the antitheses of pony virtues.
"Yeah..." I thought, looking out into a caged arena where ponies murdered each other brutally for the sport of slaves. "...because we ponies are so noble."
Was it fair to paint Xenith with all the wrongdoings of the members of her race centuries dead? No more so than to blame me for the things ponies must have done to them.
I had my own sins to bear the guilt for.
And now, assuming a raider buck named Daffodil didn't strike her down, I was expected to fight this zebra. And either kill her, or die by her hooves. Most likely the latter. I had been stripped of everything that I could use as a weapon. Even the screwdriver I had fought so hard for and felt I had earned had been taken. I had my horn, my hooves, my single spell, and S.A.T.S. My brawling skills were, to put it bluntly, pathetic. It would be a miracle if I survived.
I had managed miracles before. That was Red Eye's intention: that either I should die, or that I should be forced to kill other slaves, this zebra being only one of many, compromising the parts of me I held sacred just so that I might live long enough to kill him.
Either way would be a victory for him. Although the latter, if I did manage to kill him, would be a pyrrhic victory at best.
I thought of the image in the mirror. Littlepip as a raider, soaked in blood, dying. That was not my soul, of that I was certain! But... I knew that I could become that. I was already swimming in the slaughter of my enemies.
I realized that I was Monterey Jack, forced between destroying what allowed me to live with myself, or just dying.
I needed another option.
• • •
The heat of the sun pushed down through black clouds, baking the red-tinged hellscape of Fillydelphia. Daffodil stood firm, snorting heavily, the mangled corpse of Cinderblock oozing blood that soaked into the ground around Daff's hooves.
The body of Blood, Daff's raider companion, lay not far away, her own blood drying and caking.
Daff looked at her, and I could see hurt on his face. I realized that she was just going to lay there, baking in the heat, until all the fights were over. I wanted to scream. He wasn't even given time to mourn. The next fight had already begun.
Daff turned, locking his gaze on the zebra named Xenith. An extremely rare sight in the Equestrian Wasteland. Possibly even more so than a pegasus.
"Xenith's been in the slave pits for years," commented the blue-coated pony assigned to fight after I did. "We worked near each other in the alchemy huts up on the northside for about three months, mostly recycling flamethrower fuel. All that time, she never said a word. Way I heard it, the slavers who captured her cut out her tongue after she said something offensive to them."
Number Four paused, "Her being a zebra and all, it was probably something downright egregious. Like 'Hello'."
I watched as the zebra stepped forward, moving up to Daff and lowering her head in what struck me as a sign of respect for her mortal opponent.
Daff didn't see it that way. He saw an opportunity, and he took it. Spinning around, he delivered a brutal buck right into her neck. The zebra fell sprawling.
Daff turned, rearing up, lifting both hooves over the fallen zebra. Xenith rolled onto her back and kicked out with her hindhooves, planting them ferociously into the rearing earth pony's exposed stomach. Daff fell, clutching his belly, coughing bloody spittle.
The zebra somersaulted onto her hooves.
Daff grunted and pushed himself back up, only for the zebra to crouch and spin on one forehoof, her outstretched hindlegs sweeping Daff's legs out from under him. He went down again.
I stared, my jaw falling nearly to the ground. I watched the zebra's fluid motions. She wasn't brawling -- this was more of a fighting art form. I'd never seen anything like it.
"Heh. Looks like Fallen Caesar Style... not that I'm an expert," Number Four noted with casual awe. His eyebrows shot up at my blank look. "Don't tell me you've entered The Pit without having read at least a few Martial Arts of the Zebra books? How do you expect to win?"
"N-no," I stammered. Of all the books I'd stumbled across in my wasteland trek, I'd somehow managed to miss that one. "Of c-course not!" I turned back to the fight.
Daff had gotten back on his hooves and was circling the zebra. The zebra watched him, waiting for his attack with an almost eerie calm. He lunged, and she tossed herself down, planting a hoof into his breast and using his own momentum to fling him over her. Daff hit the dirt, sprawling.
She was a far better fighter. This was unfair.
But Daff was stronger. And he fought dirtier.
Xenith trotted cautiously closer. I suspected she was looking to end the fight while the piss-colored buck was still face-down in the dirt. Daff was trembling as if in exhaustion, and he moaned as he tried to push himself up only to have his legs go out from under him.
His weakness was a ruse. The moment Xenith got close enough, Daff twisted about on the ground and kicked a cloud of dirt and grit into her eyes. She whinnied, backing up, blinded. Her body sunk into a defensive position, prepared for immediate attack.
But Daff had seen something she apparently had not. And instead of turning to fight her, he dashed forward. I heard the BEEP of the undetonated mine as he galloped over it, kicking the explosive back towards the zebra with a hindhoof.
Xenith had heard it too. She flung herself away as best she could, the mine exploding in the air with almost two pony-lengths between itself and the zebra. Not lethal or even crippling, but enough to send her tumbling, the wind knocked out of her.
I felt myself gasp.
"Oh, she can handle a lot more than that," Number Four commented. "The slavers regularly did a number on her back in the huts. Seemed to take great delight in taking everything out on her. Made it a lot easier on the rest of us."
I bristled, wincing both at the mental images his words conjured and at the stinging in my flank. The powder that the slaver had trapped against my cutie mark was sinking its nasty teeth into my flesh.
"Hell, I remember one time a unicorn slave messed up with the recycling and set herself on fire. The slavers shot her so she didn't run around setting the whole place ablaze. Then, after the flames had gone out, just for fun, they chopped off the unicorn's head and raped the zebra with it." Number Four at least had the decency to cringe a little. I was staring in utter horror. "Come to think of it, that was just before she volunteered for The Pit."
Xenith was pulling herself up. Daff had used the moment of reprieve not to attack but to run across another of the pressure plates. The latch on the barrel above clicked free and the bottom opened, releasing gallons of glowing green slosh. ("Yep, now that's what most of them have," Number Four commented.) Something large fell out in the goop, hitting the ground with a wet thud. Daff was out of the way of all but a few splashing drops, but those pulled a scream out of him. He danced, shaking the glowing crap off, then turned to see his prize.
An auto-axe lay in the spreading, luminescent green puddle, glistening wetly. Daff grimaced. Having just felt a few drops on his flanks, he didn't seem inclined to put something bathed in that goop into his mouth.
Xenith was moving cautiously forward again. She'd gleaned enough of his tactics to know she didn't wish to engage Daff anywhere near that glowing puddle. They began to circle the spill opposite of each other, each keeping their distance from the slosh, Xenith even more than Daff.
The ponies in the bleachers began to stomp in unison. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Daff made a move. He had managed to circle around so he was within range of Cinderblock's corpse, with Xenith on the other side of the pool. Dashing over Cinderblock's remains, he drew up his hindhooves...
BUCK! Cinderblock's corpse flew behind him.
Sploosh! A wave of the green sludge surged towards Xenith. The zebra pinwheeled to the side in a maneuver I didn't even think possible.
She charged towards Daff.
The large buck saw her coming and crouched down, holding his ground. He drove both hindhooves towards her in a powerful strike the moment she got within hoof's reach.
But Xenith jumped. She leapt clean over Daffodil, striking the nape of his neck with a passing hoof. She landed in a graceful roll that ended with her back on her hooves, facing him.
Daff seemed frozen in place. He stared, unmoving.
"Paralyzing Hoof!" Number Four announced. "Now that's definitely Fallen Caesar Style."
She could paralyze a pony with a hoofstrike? How the hell was I supposed to fight against that?
Daff toppled over. Xenith trotted up to the fallen pony, her sad gaze looking into his wide and fearful eyes. The crowd began to chant and pound their hoofs. "Kill! Kill! Kill!"
Stern's voice called out, bizarrely magnified. "Finish it!"
The zebra planted one hoof on Daff's neck. She lowered her head, her muzzle lingering next to his ear a moment before she bit into his mane. She pulled her head back with a hard jerk. I heard Daff's neck crack.
Xenith's teeth let go of the dead pony's mane. She trotted towards the center of the arena and waited for her next opponent. Me.
• • •
The midday heat was becoming stifling under the thick, choking blanket of the Fillydelphia cloud cover. My cracked rib ached. My flank was stinging so badly I had to wipe tears from my eyes.
Xenith stood, watching me with those sad eyes, as I plodded into the arena.
Now that I was inside, rather than watching through a gate, I could see more of The Pit. But it was mostly just more of the same. There was a third entrance -- a set of double doors behind which I imagined slaver guards were waiting ready to gallop into what had once been an ice-skating rink at the first sign of real trouble. I could see Stern standing on a raised and barricaded platform above and behind the bleachers. She was wearing an odd pre-war headset that I suspected was responsible for amplifying her voice. She was also wearing her anti-machine rifle, slung back over her Talon armor.
And I could see the mob of ponies staring down into the arena with gleeful anticipation. I noticed a few were eating snacks. I felt a flare of anger. A pony wouldn't want to see me brutally murdered on an empty stomach after all.
"I'm trying to save all of you WHY?" I screamed out at them. For just a moment, I could understand how Red Eye morally justified putting these ponies through such suffering to build a better world. I didn't agree, but I could comprehend it.
You see, little pony? Mister Topaz had said. Look at what you ponies are doing to each other up there. Look at what you did to each other in here. What makes you think your pathetic, wicked species is worth being anything other than dragon food?
I tried to remember my answer.
Xenith stepped closer to me. I could see that her body bore many scars under her striped coat. Her cutie mark (or whatever zebra's have on their flanks in place of one) was a squiggly jumble of lines, looking more like a complex glyph than a proper cutie mark icon. On her right flank, it looked like somepony had snuffed out cigars against it.
She lowered her head as she neared me. That same posture which I had taken before as a show of respect.
Then, very softly, so that only I could hear, Xenith whispered, "I'm sorry."
I froze, stunned. The zebra who hadn't even spoken out when slave-masters were raping her with a dead pony's horn broke her silence for me. A sign of respect indeed.
Of course, I realized, she had played the mute because doing anything else would have resulted in actually losing her tongue. She could break it to me because I was about to die.
I also realized, a moment too late, that her words had effectively dropped my guard.
Xenith struck me with her forehooves, driving them into my wounded side. I heard and felt as my cracked rib broke and punctured into one of my lungs. I collapsed, sliding backwards from the force of the blow. The world swam as I struggled for air.
It was like she'd known just where to strike to cause the most injury. (As opposed to Daff, who had just known where to cause the most pain.)
I looked into the sky, a red fog seeping into the edges of my vision. I saw the griffins flying above, their talons holding rifles. I could hear the pounding of over two hundred hooves as the ponies in the bleachers called for my death.
A shadow fell over me. I turned to see Xenith rearing up, her hooves raising above my face for a swift final blow.
I gasped, my horn flaring, and kicked against the ground. My levitation blanket wrapped around me, making me nearly weightless, and I surged up off the ground like a kicked balloon. The zebra's hooves slammed into dirt that still bore the imprint of my head.
"Wait!" I gasped again, feeling the strain of levitating myself while I was struggling for proper breath. "We... we don't have to do this..."
The zebra looked up to me with an expression of resignation and pity.
"Please... don't do what they want you to do!" I was sinking back towards the ground slowly. Xenith watched, waiting for me to come back within reach. "Join me. We can escape together."
Xenith snorted, giving me a look that made me wonder just how many ponies had made this offer before. But none, I suspected, who could actually succeed.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" cried the crowd.
"I have a plan..." I offered, trying to sound more confident than I was. My success rate with plans in the last few days had not been self-inspiring. This entire plot had been amazingly ill-conceived.
In truth, I had been arrogant -- so prideful of my ability to improvise, so full of myself from past victories, that I actually thought I could walk into the enemy camp with nothing but my wits... and win. I let the Elder convince me this was the only way because it conveniently allowed me to protect my friends. Instead, I had become a slave, and now I was desperately attempting to float beyond the reach of a zebra's devastating hoofstrikes.
It was time to get out, regroup and hopefully come up with a strategy less mind-bogglingly stupid.
Xenith jumped, a forehoof striking me in the breast. Pain exploded through my body! I screamed, my magic imploding as I dropped to the ground with a thud.
The zebra landed a pony's length away.
Gasping wretchedly for air, I looked up as she took a step backwards, bringing her hindhooves into bucking range.
My horn glowed again. In desperation, I wrapped the telekinetic field around her throat and began to tighten.
As I began to choke her, Xenith bucked at my unbroken ribs. But my choking had thrown off her aim just enough, and I had learned to dodge.
The zebra staggered as I tightened my telekinetic grip. There wasn't much physical force behind my telekinesis, but I had enough to crush her throat. I didn't want to kill the zebra mare, but I had to take her out of the fight.
Xenith wobbled, eyes buldging, nostrils flaring. For a moment, she gave me the same terrified look that Daff had given her. Then that look melted into resignation and she stopped struggling, watching me with a gaze that told me she had accepted my victory.
Then she passed out. I released her, letting her drop like a sack of apples.
"What an upset!" Stern's voice boomed.
All around me, the air roared with thunderous applause.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
I struggled upright, painfully catching my breath, and looked up at the crowd. I hated them. Every one of them.
I trotted over to Xenith's fallen form. She was breathing slowly.
I looked up at the barrels. My horn flared again, wrapping one of them in a magical field. But the barrel was securely fastened to the cage ceiling, and my telekinesis was not strong enough to tear it free.
Stern seemed to glean that I was up to something because she unslung her anti-machine rifle. "Finish it!" the griffin demanded. Couldn't Stern at least call Xenith 'her'?
My mind flashed to the memory of how the barrels opened. I didn't need to pull them down, just flip the latches. Latches were easy.
My horn glowed brightly.
Stern pulled her anti-machine rifle forward and peered at me through its scope. "Finish it now!"
The latches on the barrels sprung open. All of them.
My PipBuck clickclickclicked urgently. True to Number Four's predictions, most of the barrels held glowing green sludge. And weapons. The barrel's released their contents, raining down implements of death. A magical-energy lance, a sword, a chainsaw (a chainsaw!?) and even a couple firearms. I let them fall where the barrels dropped them. It was the sludge I wanted.
The luminescent goop was barely translucent. I spun it around and over the inside of the cage, creating a glowing green curtain, thin as film but enough to obscure me inside. I didn't want any of those griffins or guard slavers to be able to take shots at me. Immediately, I galloped into a new position; as I predicted, Stern fired a shot at where I had just been standing.
I felt tears in my eyes. The pain in my chest was burning, my breathing becoming more ragged as I tried to maintain focus in so many places at once. Each breath felt a little like drowning.
I wrapped another telekinetic sheath around myself, canceling out my weight, then extended it to wrap about the zebra as well. There was never any question that I would be taking her with me. The thought of leaving her behind here had never entered my mind.
My vision blurred. I forced myself to keep focus. My horn flared brighter, a layer of overglow erupting from it. It occurred to me that a keen-eyed griffin might be able to spot the glow of my horn through the curtain of muck.
But I needed to keep enough focus and channel enough power for just one more trick. And I needed more time.
I telekinetically grabbed the magical energy lance and wedged it across the double-doors seconds before slavers started slamming against them, trying to get in.
The curtain weakened, holes appearing along the top of it. One of those tears was almost directly above me, revealing the door in top of the cage which I had spotted earlier, bound closed with a simple padlock. I kicked off, sending myself floating upwards, my eyes fixed on the padlock. I had no bobby pins. My screwdriver had been stolen from me.
I should not need them.
Manipulating multiple objects that were out of sight was tricky, but I had pulled pins from grenades hidden in a sack. And I knew locks. I knew tumblers and internal mechanisms. I should be able to pick a lock with my magic alone.
Reaching out with my magic, I enveloped the padlock in a gentle glow. My own horn flared as a second layer of overglow burst around the first. Streams of light poured from my head.
I felt a bullet lash past me, followed by the sound of a gunshot. Below, the blows against the double doors were causing the magical energy lance to bend.
I was still floating upward, carrying the unconscious zebra. We were nearing the cage. But our ascent was slowing alarmingly. One of the griffins above fired down at me, but the shot sparked off one of the bars of the cage.
"I can do this!" I told myself repeatedly.
A second shot sparked against the gate itself, inches from the padlock.
Who was I fooling? I could barely breathe! My magic faltered, the swirling curtain slipping, wavering.
No! "I can do this!"
I shifted the tumblers into place. The padlock sprung open. My vision swam again. I nearly lost everything.
The magical energy lance cracked in two. The doors below swung open and slavers stumbled into the arena.
Frantically, I hovered the padlock away and pushed open the gate. A moment later, we were through and I was running along the top of the cage as fast as my surviving lung would allow me. I let everything fall except my grasp around myself and Xenith. My whole body screamed in pain and exertion.
Shots rang out, bullets striking the cage about me from above and below. I weaved erratically, again doing my best to make a hard target. I was reaching the edge of the cage.
The ice arena was at the far end of the Fillydelphia FunFarm. With luck, I could jump from it over the fence, again putting a barrier between me and at least the ground-bound slavers.
The end of the cage came faster than I would have wanted. I jumped, screaming from the agony in my chest. The two of us soared out over the amusement park. My heart sank as I realized I had run the wrong way and my jump was taking me into the FunFarm rather than away from it.
A tearing kick jerked my right foreleg with a metallic crunch! The sound of Stern's anti-machine rifle followed closely after as searing red agony shot through my leg. The bullet had missed, just barely catching my PipBuck, but the force of that alone felt like it had shattered my leg!
I fell, my magical field imploding, collapsing onto a set of tracks several stories above the amusement park below.
• • •
I moaned, feeling the world thump rhythmically though my body as if I was riding a washing machine, and not in the way young fillies do to enjoy themselves. The world seemed crazily tilted. I could only take shallow breaths. Bright pain pulsed in my right foreleg. I heard gunfire.
Memory flooded back to me and my eyes shot open. I looked around, almost falling off the back of the zebra who was carrying me up a steep slope on the Fillydelphia FunFarm's roller coaster track.
I had been out for a few minutes at most. Long enough for the zebra to come to. Having awoken on the elevated tracks, jumping hadn't been an option. There were only two ways for her to go. I felt thankful that Xenith had returned the favor and taken me with her.
My first worry was for my PipBuck. I lifted my foreleg, but only managed to raise it a few inches before I let out a tortured scream, hot pain bursting through my leg.
My PipBuck had taken an indirect hit; it was not itself damaged, but the bullet had torn through the peripheral. The broadcaster was destroyed. And with it, my plan for escape.
I brought up my Eyes-Forward Sparkle. My PipBuck was flashing alerts. I had taken more rads from being in the middle of all that green sludge than my PipBuck liked. My chest and right foreleg had taken crippling wounds, the latter having suffered a wrenching sprain and a small hairline fracture in the bone.
Looking down, I saw slaver ponies shooting at us from the ground. By experience these mares and bucks were not the best shots even at close range. If they hit us at this distance with the cover of the tracks, it would be by sheer dumb luck.
Behind us even more were charging up the track, but they were well behind. It was the griffins that were the biggest threat. I looked around, but couldn't spot them. Which meant little.
Xenith reached the apex of the track, stopping just shy of it. A set of three colorfully-painted, pony-shaped carriages sat on the top of the roller coaster's hill, rusting for two hundred years. There wasn't any room to go around them, leaving the zebra no apparent choice but to climb over them.
She cautiously put a hoof onto the orange rear carriage and pressed her weight down on it. The carriage gave a metallic groan. She looked back at me with a grimace that I was able to match.
I focused, wrapping us in a levitation field to reduce our weight. Perspiration broke across my head. Hot coals formed in my lungs, only one of which could catch breath. The effort sucked all the remaining strength out of me. My magical field popped as I nearly blacked out again.
No. Dammit, why did this have to be happening now? I'd overtaxed my magic once before, and it had taken days (and a magical statuette) before I could properly float objects again. This felt much the same. Perhaps not a true burnout, but a severe drop in power, the result of having pushed so hard in such a weakened state. And true burnout could be imminent.
I steadied my breath and focused again. My horn glowed softly. The levitation field wrapped slowly around us. I was breathing quickly, nearly hyperventilating, but the field was holding. "Climb," I gasped, "Now."
The zebra cautiously mounted the carriage, then stepped down onto the bench of the first seat well. The old car rocked slightly, groaning again. Step by step she started walking across the trio of carriages.
We were halfway across the purple middle carriage when a hole punched through the nose of the carriage in front, followed by a distant report. I grunted as Xenith took an involuntary step backward and fell partially into the carriage seat. My magic imploded and the linked carriages let out a protesting whine.
I had been wrong. It wasn't the griffins I had to worry about. It was the snipers in the damn Pinkie Pie Balloons. Once we crested the top, we had put ourselves right in their crosshairs. And the carriages slowed us to a crawl, giving them easy shots.
Another shot punched clean through the seat and carriage frame behind us. Xenith dumped me off her back into the cover of the seat well, then scrambled to take cover in the seat well ahead of us. We were pinned.
The shadow of a griffin shot over us, dropping something that hit the rim of the stairwell and bounced over the edge of the track. A moment later, the grenade went off, the sound of splintering wood accenting the explosion. I felt a subtle and unpleasant shift in the carriage beneath us; the grenade had taken out some of the beams in the already precarious roller coaster's framework.
Another griffin soared past, spreading his wings and banking. With alarm, I saw the creature was holding a rocket launcher!
There was no time to think. We had to go.
Jumping out of the seat well, I swung around and bucked the link that held the front two carriages to the back one. Another gunshot ripped the air above my left flank and punched into the back carriage. I noticed belatedly that the nose of each carriage was shaped and painted to look comically like the faces of Pinkie Pie's friends.
I flung my forehooves back into the seat well and bucked Applejack in the face. My body screamed in protest, my right foreleg flaring in pain and slipping.
The orange rear carriage squealed and began sliding backwards down the tracks, sparks spraying from rust-jammed wheels. The slaver ponies charging after us stopped abruptly, standing like pins before a bowling ball, then turned and tried to run the other way. One of them tried to leap onto a lower set of tracks and disappeared from sight.
Without the rearmost carriage as an anchor, the front two began to slowly slide down the forward slope. I swung myself, trying to hook my injured leg back around the seat well's edge. I succeeded, but the pain slammed into my head like a sledgehammer. I screamed, nearly slipping free entirely.
Xenith jumped back into my seat well, grabbing my mane in her teeth.
The rocket-launcher griffin fired. A streak of smoke shot towards us, tipped with violent death.
Xenith wrenched me into the carriage, pushing us both down as far as we could go. A moment later, the rocket struck into the track almost where the rear car had been. The explosion washed over the top of us, cutting our backs with shrapnel and kissing us with flame. The carriage lurched forward hard, bucking up from the track and slamming back down as bits of metal track and chunks of burning wood rained into the park below. What had been a slow crawl forward was abruptly transformed into a racing plummet.
The carriages bumped and rattled, squealing all the way down. The light blue carriage ahead bucked and skipped, threatening to jump the tracks. If it did, we were done for. There was no Calamity to catch me this time.
My stomach lurched violently as the downhill slide swept into an uphill thrust, tossing us against the seat well's bench.
The upward angle of the carriage now left our seat well exposed. A bullet punched into the bench, inches from Xenith's left shoulder, spraying rotted foam.
One of the griffins (I believe the one who had tossed the grenade) had unslung his lever-action rifle and was flying towards us, slowly pumping shots in our direction. Our impromptu ride had put distance between us and them, but we were already slowing. He would be in optimal firing range in moments.
The second griffin was reloading his rocket launcher. A third swept around behind him and banked, moving out of my line of sight beneath the wooden hills of the roller coaster.
Lever-action griffin fired again, and a line of blood spurted from the back of Xenith's neck. A grazing shot that I knew must burn. But she gritted her teeth and kept silent. The griffin moved closer, aiming, and fired again.
The rifle was empty. Cursing, the griffin drew up into a hover and began to reload.
Reloading meant he had less of a grip on his weapon. I focused and telekinetically wrenched the firearm away, closing it. The griffin's eyes widened as his own weapon twirled around to point at him. BLAM!
As he fell, another stream of smoke leapt from the other griffin's missile launcher and raced towards us. The missile streaked past us, and I heard it detonate somewhere ahead.
I urgently floated the lever-action rifle, checking the shots. The griffin had only loaded two bullets into the rifle before I had snatched it away, leaving me with one shot. I had to choose my next sh-
The third griffin suddenly swooped up right next to our carriage as we crested the smaller hill, aiming a scattergun point blank at our faces.
BLAM! The griffin spiraled downward, my barely-aimed shot having gone through her wing.
Xenith was cringing in the seat well. I dared to sit up and look ahead. At the base of this hill, the track took a sharp curve and shot into the tunnel that passed through the barn-like Ministry of Morale building. But that second rocket had torn a hole in the track.
Xenith muttered something in a strange tongue, appearing at my side. Then, in a low voice, "I hope this is still going according to plan."
"Yes," I lied.
I crawled forward, cringing as a balloonist sniper sent another shot into the track ahead of us, the bullet from the anti-machine rifle obliterating a track tie. I hooked my flanks against the forward seat well and slid over the face of Twilight Sparkle. The small horn protruding from the front gave me something to brace a shoulder against. Reaching down with my left forehoof, I kicked at the latch, freeing the light blue forward car.
Freed of the extra weight, the forward car began to separate, slipping ahead. It hit the turn, then the gap... and the Rainbow Dash carriage did what it really wanted to do. It flew from the tracks and caught air.
Focusing for all I was worth, I enveloped the Twilight Sparkle car in a magical field, negating our weight. I prayed to Luna that it would be enough to let us jump the gap. I prayed to Celestia that my strength wouldn't give out until we had.
If there had been any doubt in my mind that the Goddesses were watching us from above, it evaporated as both prayers were answered.
• • •
The purple Twilight Sparkle carriage swept into the darkness of the tunnel. A hard jolt slammed through us as our out-of-control ride finally skipped the track. I felt my body being flung from the car as it skidded and flipped. I hit the track roughly; new pain bit deeply into my shoulder and arced like electricity along the nerves of my left foreleg as my left shoulder struck the metal rail.
Xenith remained huddled in the seat well as the carriage rolled once before crashing against a row of clown-pony-shaped pylons. I looked up, wheezing, to see the zebra's form crawl shakily out of the wreckage.
I struggled to my hooves. Both my forelegs protested with discordant pain. My head swam. I wondered if I was in shock.
Xenith trotted up to me. "So, my little pony savior," she said in her low, exotic voice, "This is still all part of the plan, yes?"
I turned on my PipBuck's lamp. "Somewhere in here, there has to be a way into the building."
"The plan to escape is to break into Red Eye's home?" I could hear the incredulity lurking behind her almost innocent tone.
I nodded. "We make it to the roof. There's always a Pinkie Pie Balloon anchored up there. We're going to take it. That's how we get past the moat and The Wall." I winced as I fought for breath. "I have friends waiting outside for us."
The zebra stared at me appraisingly. "Are all your friends as crazy as you?"
"You... don't have to follow me," I noted with a sigh. I had saved the zebra's life; but in doing so, I had kidnapped her. She couldn't go back to the slavers; we both knew that. Until she was past The Wall, I had pretty much trapped her with me. After that, however... "Although I really wish you would."
"You saved my life, little pony," she answered. "You are responsible for it now. It is up to you to get me to safety. Until then, I follow."
I nodded. "And after."
"You are still responsible," she said firmly. "Unless I take that responsibility from you."
I blinked. It was one thing to be thinking such thoughts. It was quite another to have them thrown back at me in some sort of insane zebra logic.
We trekked further into the tunnel, looking for a door into the old Ministry of Morale hub that Red Eye and Stern had made the center of their slave empire.
I was badly, badly hurt. But in my experience, I had a much easier time turning interiors to my advantage in a fight. I was feeling a touch of confidence returning.
The griffin with the missile launcher flew into the tunnel behind us. Both Xenith and I shrunk into the darkness around partial cover and held still. The griffin began to walk along the track, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
I focused on the latch of his saddlebags where he was keeping his extra missiles.
Nothing happened.
I focused again. Harder.
Nothing. Not even a faint glow from my horn, much less a telekinetic field. I hung my head. Burnout. That save jumping the gap had taken what little I had left. I was defenseless. And useless.
Dammit... why did this have to happen now? I had been counting on my levitation to at least get us into the balloon. Now, we'd have to find another way to get into it. If there was another way. And if we survived to the roof. Which was now much more in doubt.
I looked back up in time to see a shadow move near the griffin. Xenith had slipped right up next to him, completely unnoticed. Only now did I spot her as she struck out with a hoof. The griffin made a choking sound as his body went rigid. She wasted no time snapping his neck with her forehooves.
I looked over the griffin as he fell dead beside the zebra. I wished he had been carrying a rifle. I did contemplate taking the missile launcher. But then (not being SteelHooves) I decided against it. Clearly Xenith preferred a stealthy approach to combat similar to my own. Plus, with my lack of experience, teeth-wielding high-explosives inside a building seemed like a very bad idea.
I also wished his armor was more pony-shaped. I did, however, empty his saddlebags and take them for myself.
• • •
I peeked around the corner, staring down a decaying pink hallway. Two ponies wearing armor in Red Eye's colors were standing guard near a wall terminal, watching over a shallow alcove opposite them. I thought I saw the glow of a Sunrise Sarsaparilla machine coming out of it. These guards weren't actively hunting us; but as best I could tell, there was no way around them. The only other way up had collapsed decades ago.
Still, I felt a pang at the idea of attacking ponies who weren't even threatening us, slavers or not. This stretched the definition of self-defense. I wondered if it would be possible to sneak past them; but the hallway was far too narrow, and they were standing with their tails to the wall. We'd have to pass directly in front of them. And no matter how light-hooved we were, crouching didn't make us invisible.
Xenith slipped past me before I could motion to her. She had no moral hesitation about killing random members of Red Eye's forces. To my surprise, she managed to creep halfway down the hall before they spotted her. She crossed the remaining distance with a leap, landing on her forehooves and bucking one of the guards in the head hard enough to send his helmet clattering down the hallway.
The other guard was a unicorn, and she was already floating an automatic rifle towards the zebra.
I screamed out at the pain in my legs as I charged the guard, lowering my horn. The unicorn turned, surprised by the second attacker, giving Xenith a chance to kick the automatic rifle. The magical field around it imploded as the weapon flew out of it and bounced against a dingy pink wall. My horn glanced off the guard's armor, hurting me more than her. Her horn was glowing.
Electricity burst around her, tearing at my nerves as I stumbled and fell to the floor. Between the guard's legs, I could see Xenith collapse as well. I groaned, remembering that (unlike me) other unicorns have more magic than mere telekinesis under their hats.
The unicorn wrapped her automatic rifle in a new sheath of magical energy and floated it over me, apparently considering a unicorn attacker to be the most dangerous threat. Fatal mistake.
The automatic rifle went off, peppering the ground next to me with bullets as Xenith swept the unicorn's legs out from under her. I was barely able to move, but the zebra seemed to have recovered most of her faculties. My striped companion rolled onto the guard pony and struck her repeatedly in the face with her forehooves. I cringed at the sound of the unicorn's horn shattering. The magic around the rifle evaporated and the firearm fell to the ground within biting distance.
By the time I had gotten up, rifle in mouth, Xenith had rendered both guards deceased.
I looked around. True to my suspicions, the alcove across from the guards held a couple of vending machines -- a Sunset Sarsaparilla machine and a functional-looking Ironshod's Ammo Emporium. Between them was the heavy metal door of a vault.
• • •
"What is this?" Xenith asked, staring into the room that had been sealed behind the vault door.
She had been understandably perturbed when I stopped to hack the terminal, but relented when I explained that I needed to catch my breath. A statement my shallow, harsh breathing had proven altogether true. The worst part of my injuries was the fact that I couldn't risk healing them -- not with a broken rib and punctured lung. Any poultice would cause those to heal wrong. I needed Velvet Remedy before I could dare use anything more than a healing bandage. And in our situation, I didn't even dare use painkillers. I needed to be thinking straight.
"The Wasteland, taunting me," I answered as I stepped into the vault, looking around at the mostly-empty shelves with their scattering of memory orbs -- none of which I could look into without my magic -- and the line of passkey-coded wall safes along the back -- none of which I could open. The Equestrian Wasteland loved rubbing my face in my every moment of weakness.
"What are they?" she questioned, looking at the dozens of orbs littering the floor.
"Confessions."
I started collecting the orbs, picking them up in my teeth and dropping them into one of my pilfered saddlebags opposite the ammo and bottles of sarsaparilla. Moving through the shelves, I spotted the glow of another terminal. Perhaps there was a way into the safes after all.
Reaching it, I hooked my PipBuck into the terminal and began my hack. The terminal was exceptionally tough. The little pony in my head started crying out for Mint-als after the third time that I was forced to back out of the system before its security protocols could lock it up. I fought to silence that voice.
I was increasingly aware of how long this was taking. Stern had ponies scouring the building and surrounding grounds for us. They were spread out, but eventually one or more of them would stumble across us.
"One more try!" I insisted to Xenith after I backed out a fourth time. "If I can't get it, we go."
"Why are you trying to unlock Red Eye's safes anyway? What do you hope to find?" Xenith asked reasonably. "Balloon tickets, perhaps?"
I snorted. I was about to reply, probably with something snide, when I found the password: Sir Lints-a-lot. After staring at that for a moment, I no longer felt bad about not figuring it out sooner.
From the timestamps on the terminal, it became clear that nopony else had figured that out either. The terminal had not been used to access these safes in more than two hundred years. A security notice indicated that the far left safe had been accessed several times in the last few years through use of the passkey.
I opened them all.
The far right safe held a badly damaged memory orb case with a single orb inside. The other three were gone. There was also an audio log, a dingy cloak, a StealthBuck and half-a-dozen files. I caught Xenith's reaction as I pulled out the cloak, even though she recovered quickly.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," she lied.
I took the audio recording and memory orb, keeping them separate from the mess of orbs I had collected from the floor. I offered Xenith the cloak. Its dingy color would provide better camouflage than her stark stripes, and it was too large for me. She nodded and put it on, but it slipped off. The neck clasp was broken.
I opened the second safe and jumped back in alarm at the pulsing, swirling lights that poured out. Inside were four egg-shaped objects that glowed with a hypnotic dance of dark colors. "W-what?"
Xenith trotted closer, studying the objects without looking directly into them. "Balefire eggs."
I stared dumbly for a moment as my brain deciphered this. That's right. Fluttershy didn't actually design city-destroying spells. She designed the magical framework that would take a normal spell and augment it beyond... well, beyond anything they really imagined. But like the healing spell, there had to be a magic to be amplified. These balefire eggs were the base magic for the mass-murdering balefire bombs.
"H-how big an explosion?" I asked my zebra companion.
"I don't know. I was never alive two hundred years ago fighting in a war where these were used."
Touché. I imagined the Ministry of Morale confiscated these on a raid of some sort. I could see why they would still be locked up.
The third safe held what looked like a Pegasus Enclave helmet with a built-in recollector, complete with black opal. It also held a whole lot of paperwork labeled "CZA", including many photographs too warped by age to make out. I yanked the paperwork out, scattering it onto the floor as I tried to get at something that was hidden behind it.
"Citizen Zebra Activities," Xenith said behind me, reading one of the folders I had knocked out of the safe. "Your government was paying close attention to every zebra living in Equestria."
"Not my government," I corrected swiftly. "And the Ministry of Morale was watching everypony."
Behind the papers was what looked like a first-generation PipBuck. The PipBuck was still closed, and there were ancient bloodstains in the felt lining. It had been removed through amputation, hopefully post-mortem. I quickly plugged the PipBuck into my own and started looking through the files, but they were encrypted with that odd dual-encryption which I had discovered my first night out of Stable Two. The only thing I could get from it was an automapped floor plan for Stable Three. The Stable looked identical to Stable Two, except that the apple orchard was only two-thirds the size and there were two interlocking Overmare's Offices. I shuddered inexplicably.
The final safe was the one Red Eye had been using. And it held the big prize.
The schematics for the Radiation-Powered Engine.
"The fate of Equestria does not rest on me making friends."
Zebras.
Equestria's enemies. The creatures who slaughtered us by the millions and destroyed our lands with poisoned clouds and balefire bombs.
The creatures which were constantly portrayed as demonic, nightmarish, virtually without souls. Creatures who, according to the propaganda of the Ministry of Image, embodied the antitheses of pony virtues.
"Yeah..." I thought, looking out into a caged arena where ponies murdered each other brutally for the sport of slaves. "...because we ponies are so noble."
Was it fair to paint Xenith with all the wrongdoings of the members of her race centuries dead? No more so than to blame me for the things ponies must have done to them.
I had my own sins to bear the guilt for.
And now, assuming a raider buck named Daffodil didn't strike her down, I was expected to fight this zebra. And either kill her, or die by her hooves. Most likely the latter. I had been stripped of everything that I could use as a weapon. Even the screwdriver I had fought so hard for and felt I had earned had been taken. I had my horn, my hooves, my single spell, and S.A.T.S. My brawling skills were, to put it bluntly, pathetic. It would be a miracle if I survived.
I had managed miracles before. That was Red Eye's intention: that either I should die, or that I should be forced to kill other slaves, this zebra being only one of many, compromising the parts of me I held sacred just so that I might live long enough to kill him.
Either way would be a victory for him. Although the latter, if I did manage to kill him, would be a pyrrhic victory at best.
I thought of the image in the mirror. Littlepip as a raider, soaked in blood, dying. That was not my soul, of that I was certain! But... I knew that I could become that. I was already swimming in the slaughter of my enemies.
I realized that I was Monterey Jack, forced between destroying what allowed me to live with myself, or just dying.
I needed another option.
• • •
The heat of the sun pushed down through black clouds, baking the red-tinged hellscape of Fillydelphia. Daffodil stood firm, snorting heavily, the mangled corpse of Cinderblock oozing blood that soaked into the ground around Daff's hooves.
The body of Blood, Daff's raider companion, lay not far away, her own blood drying and caking.
Daff looked at her, and I could see hurt on his face. I realized that she was just going to lay there, baking in the heat, until all the fights were over. I wanted to scream. He wasn't even given time to mourn. The next fight had already begun.
Daff turned, locking his gaze on the zebra named Xenith. An extremely rare sight in the Equestrian Wasteland. Possibly even more so than a pegasus.
"Xenith's been in the slave pits for years," commented the blue-coated pony assigned to fight after I did. "We worked near each other in the alchemy huts up on the northside for about three months, mostly recycling flamethrower fuel. All that time, she never said a word. Way I heard it, the slavers who captured her cut out her tongue after she said something offensive to them."
Number Four paused, "Her being a zebra and all, it was probably something downright egregious. Like 'Hello'."
I watched as the zebra stepped forward, moving up to Daff and lowering her head in what struck me as a sign of respect for her mortal opponent.
Daff didn't see it that way. He saw an opportunity, and he took it. Spinning around, he delivered a brutal buck right into her neck. The zebra fell sprawling.
Daff turned, rearing up, lifting both hooves over the fallen zebra. Xenith rolled onto her back and kicked out with her hindhooves, planting them ferociously into the rearing earth pony's exposed stomach. Daff fell, clutching his belly, coughing bloody spittle.
The zebra somersaulted onto her hooves.
Daff grunted and pushed himself back up, only for the zebra to crouch and spin on one forehoof, her outstretched hindlegs sweeping Daff's legs out from under him. He went down again.
I stared, my jaw falling nearly to the ground. I watched the zebra's fluid motions. She wasn't brawling -- this was more of a fighting art form. I'd never seen anything like it.
"Heh. Looks like Fallen Caesar Style... not that I'm an expert," Number Four noted with casual awe. His eyebrows shot up at my blank look. "Don't tell me you've entered The Pit without having read at least a few Martial Arts of the Zebra books? How do you expect to win?"
"N-no," I stammered. Of all the books I'd stumbled across in my wasteland trek, I'd somehow managed to miss that one. "Of c-course not!" I turned back to the fight.
Daff had gotten back on his hooves and was circling the zebra. The zebra watched him, waiting for his attack with an almost eerie calm. He lunged, and she tossed herself down, planting a hoof into his breast and using his own momentum to fling him over her. Daff hit the dirt, sprawling.
She was a far better fighter. This was unfair.
But Daff was stronger. And he fought dirtier.
Xenith trotted cautiously closer. I suspected she was looking to end the fight while the piss-colored buck was still face-down in the dirt. Daff was trembling as if in exhaustion, and he moaned as he tried to push himself up only to have his legs go out from under him.
His weakness was a ruse. The moment Xenith got close enough, Daff twisted about on the ground and kicked a cloud of dirt and grit into her eyes. She whinnied, backing up, blinded. Her body sunk into a defensive position, prepared for immediate attack.
But Daff had seen something she apparently had not. And instead of turning to fight her, he dashed forward. I heard the BEEP of the undetonated mine as he galloped over it, kicking the explosive back towards the zebra with a hindhoof.
Xenith had heard it too. She flung herself away as best she could, the mine exploding in the air with almost two pony-lengths between itself and the zebra. Not lethal or even crippling, but enough to send her tumbling, the wind knocked out of her.
I felt myself gasp.
"Oh, she can handle a lot more than that," Number Four commented. "The slavers regularly did a number on her back in the huts. Seemed to take great delight in taking everything out on her. Made it a lot easier on the rest of us."
I bristled, wincing both at the mental images his words conjured and at the stinging in my flank. The powder that the slaver had trapped against my cutie mark was sinking its nasty teeth into my flesh.
"Hell, I remember one time a unicorn slave messed up with the recycling and set herself on fire. The slavers shot her so she didn't run around setting the whole place ablaze. Then, after the flames had gone out, just for fun, they chopped off the unicorn's head and raped the zebra with it." Number Four at least had the decency to cringe a little. I was staring in utter horror. "Come to think of it, that was just before she volunteered for The Pit."
Xenith was pulling herself up. Daff had used the moment of reprieve not to attack but to run across another of the pressure plates. The latch on the barrel above clicked free and the bottom opened, releasing gallons of glowing green slosh. ("Yep, now that's what most of them have," Number Four commented.) Something large fell out in the goop, hitting the ground with a wet thud. Daff was out of the way of all but a few splashing drops, but those pulled a scream out of him. He danced, shaking the glowing crap off, then turned to see his prize.
An auto-axe lay in the spreading, luminescent green puddle, glistening wetly. Daff grimaced. Having just felt a few drops on his flanks, he didn't seem inclined to put something bathed in that goop into his mouth.
Xenith was moving cautiously forward again. She'd gleaned enough of his tactics to know she didn't wish to engage Daff anywhere near that glowing puddle. They began to circle the spill opposite of each other, each keeping their distance from the slosh, Xenith even more than Daff.
The ponies in the bleachers began to stomp in unison. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Daff made a move. He had managed to circle around so he was within range of Cinderblock's corpse, with Xenith on the other side of the pool. Dashing over Cinderblock's remains, he drew up his hindhooves...
BUCK! Cinderblock's corpse flew behind him.
Sploosh! A wave of the green sludge surged towards Xenith. The zebra pinwheeled to the side in a maneuver I didn't even think possible.
She charged towards Daff.
The large buck saw her coming and crouched down, holding his ground. He drove both hindhooves towards her in a powerful strike the moment she got within hoof's reach.
But Xenith jumped. She leapt clean over Daffodil, striking the nape of his neck with a passing hoof. She landed in a graceful roll that ended with her back on her hooves, facing him.
Daff seemed frozen in place. He stared, unmoving.
"Paralyzing Hoof!" Number Four announced. "Now that's definitely Fallen Caesar Style."
She could paralyze a pony with a hoofstrike? How the hell was I supposed to fight against that?
Daff toppled over. Xenith trotted up to the fallen pony, her sad gaze looking into his wide and fearful eyes. The crowd began to chant and pound their hoofs. "Kill! Kill! Kill!"
Stern's voice called out, bizarrely magnified. "Finish it!"
The zebra planted one hoof on Daff's neck. She lowered her head, her muzzle lingering next to his ear a moment before she bit into his mane. She pulled her head back with a hard jerk. I heard Daff's neck crack.
Xenith's teeth let go of the dead pony's mane. She trotted towards the center of the arena and waited for her next opponent. Me.
• • •
The midday heat was becoming stifling under the thick, choking blanket of the Fillydelphia cloud cover. My cracked rib ached. My flank was stinging so badly I had to wipe tears from my eyes.
Xenith stood, watching me with those sad eyes, as I plodded into the arena.
Now that I was inside, rather than watching through a gate, I could see more of The Pit. But it was mostly just more of the same. There was a third entrance -- a set of double doors behind which I imagined slaver guards were waiting ready to gallop into what had once been an ice-skating rink at the first sign of real trouble. I could see Stern standing on a raised and barricaded platform above and behind the bleachers. She was wearing an odd pre-war headset that I suspected was responsible for amplifying her voice. She was also wearing her anti-machine rifle, slung back over her Talon armor.
And I could see the mob of ponies staring down into the arena with gleeful anticipation. I noticed a few were eating snacks. I felt a flare of anger. A pony wouldn't want to see me brutally murdered on an empty stomach after all.
"I'm trying to save all of you WHY?" I screamed out at them. For just a moment, I could understand how Red Eye morally justified putting these ponies through such suffering to build a better world. I didn't agree, but I could comprehend it.
You see, little pony? Mister Topaz had said. Look at what you ponies are doing to each other up there. Look at what you did to each other in here. What makes you think your pathetic, wicked species is worth being anything other than dragon food?
I tried to remember my answer.
Xenith stepped closer to me. I could see that her body bore many scars under her striped coat. Her cutie mark (or whatever zebra's have on their flanks in place of one) was a squiggly jumble of lines, looking more like a complex glyph than a proper cutie mark icon. On her right flank, it looked like somepony had snuffed out cigars against it.
She lowered her head as she neared me. That same posture which I had taken before as a show of respect.
Then, very softly, so that only I could hear, Xenith whispered, "I'm sorry."
I froze, stunned. The zebra who hadn't even spoken out when slave-masters were raping her with a dead pony's horn broke her silence for me. A sign of respect indeed.
Of course, I realized, she had played the mute because doing anything else would have resulted in actually losing her tongue. She could break it to me because I was about to die.
I also realized, a moment too late, that her words had effectively dropped my guard.
Xenith struck me with her forehooves, driving them into my wounded side. I heard and felt as my cracked rib broke and punctured into one of my lungs. I collapsed, sliding backwards from the force of the blow. The world swam as I struggled for air.
It was like she'd known just where to strike to cause the most injury. (As opposed to Daff, who had just known where to cause the most pain.)
I looked into the sky, a red fog seeping into the edges of my vision. I saw the griffins flying above, their talons holding rifles. I could hear the pounding of over two hundred hooves as the ponies in the bleachers called for my death.
A shadow fell over me. I turned to see Xenith rearing up, her hooves raising above my face for a swift final blow.
I gasped, my horn flaring, and kicked against the ground. My levitation blanket wrapped around me, making me nearly weightless, and I surged up off the ground like a kicked balloon. The zebra's hooves slammed into dirt that still bore the imprint of my head.
"Wait!" I gasped again, feeling the strain of levitating myself while I was struggling for proper breath. "We... we don't have to do this..."
The zebra looked up to me with an expression of resignation and pity.
"Please... don't do what they want you to do!" I was sinking back towards the ground slowly. Xenith watched, waiting for me to come back within reach. "Join me. We can escape together."
Xenith snorted, giving me a look that made me wonder just how many ponies had made this offer before. But none, I suspected, who could actually succeed.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" cried the crowd.
"I have a plan..." I offered, trying to sound more confident than I was. My success rate with plans in the last few days had not been self-inspiring. This entire plot had been amazingly ill-conceived.
In truth, I had been arrogant -- so prideful of my ability to improvise, so full of myself from past victories, that I actually thought I could walk into the enemy camp with nothing but my wits... and win. I let the Elder convince me this was the only way because it conveniently allowed me to protect my friends. Instead, I had become a slave, and now I was desperately attempting to float beyond the reach of a zebra's devastating hoofstrikes.
It was time to get out, regroup and hopefully come up with a strategy less mind-bogglingly stupid.
Xenith jumped, a forehoof striking me in the breast. Pain exploded through my body! I screamed, my magic imploding as I dropped to the ground with a thud.
The zebra landed a pony's length away.
Gasping wretchedly for air, I looked up as she took a step backwards, bringing her hindhooves into bucking range.
My horn glowed again. In desperation, I wrapped the telekinetic field around her throat and began to tighten.
As I began to choke her, Xenith bucked at my unbroken ribs. But my choking had thrown off her aim just enough, and I had learned to dodge.
The zebra staggered as I tightened my telekinetic grip. There wasn't much physical force behind my telekinesis, but I had enough to crush her throat. I didn't want to kill the zebra mare, but I had to take her out of the fight.
Xenith wobbled, eyes buldging, nostrils flaring. For a moment, she gave me the same terrified look that Daff had given her. Then that look melted into resignation and she stopped struggling, watching me with a gaze that told me she had accepted my victory.
Then she passed out. I released her, letting her drop like a sack of apples.
"What an upset!" Stern's voice boomed.
All around me, the air roared with thunderous applause.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
I struggled upright, painfully catching my breath, and looked up at the crowd. I hated them. Every one of them.
I trotted over to Xenith's fallen form. She was breathing slowly.
I looked up at the barrels. My horn flared again, wrapping one of them in a magical field. But the barrel was securely fastened to the cage ceiling, and my telekinesis was not strong enough to tear it free.
Stern seemed to glean that I was up to something because she unslung her anti-machine rifle. "Finish it!" the griffin demanded. Couldn't Stern at least call Xenith 'her'?
My mind flashed to the memory of how the barrels opened. I didn't need to pull them down, just flip the latches. Latches were easy.
My horn glowed brightly.
Stern pulled her anti-machine rifle forward and peered at me through its scope. "Finish it now!"
The latches on the barrels sprung open. All of them.
My PipBuck clickclickclicked urgently. True to Number Four's predictions, most of the barrels held glowing green sludge. And weapons. The barrel's released their contents, raining down implements of death. A magical-energy lance, a sword, a chainsaw (a chainsaw!?) and even a couple firearms. I let them fall where the barrels dropped them. It was the sludge I wanted.
The luminescent goop was barely translucent. I spun it around and over the inside of the cage, creating a glowing green curtain, thin as film but enough to obscure me inside. I didn't want any of those griffins or guard slavers to be able to take shots at me. Immediately, I galloped into a new position; as I predicted, Stern fired a shot at where I had just been standing.
I felt tears in my eyes. The pain in my chest was burning, my breathing becoming more ragged as I tried to maintain focus in so many places at once. Each breath felt a little like drowning.
I wrapped another telekinetic sheath around myself, canceling out my weight, then extended it to wrap about the zebra as well. There was never any question that I would be taking her with me. The thought of leaving her behind here had never entered my mind.
My vision blurred. I forced myself to keep focus. My horn flared brighter, a layer of overglow erupting from it. It occurred to me that a keen-eyed griffin might be able to spot the glow of my horn through the curtain of muck.
But I needed to keep enough focus and channel enough power for just one more trick. And I needed more time.
I telekinetically grabbed the magical energy lance and wedged it across the double-doors seconds before slavers started slamming against them, trying to get in.
The curtain weakened, holes appearing along the top of it. One of those tears was almost directly above me, revealing the door in top of the cage which I had spotted earlier, bound closed with a simple padlock. I kicked off, sending myself floating upwards, my eyes fixed on the padlock. I had no bobby pins. My screwdriver had been stolen from me.
I should not need them.
Manipulating multiple objects that were out of sight was tricky, but I had pulled pins from grenades hidden in a sack. And I knew locks. I knew tumblers and internal mechanisms. I should be able to pick a lock with my magic alone.
Reaching out with my magic, I enveloped the padlock in a gentle glow. My own horn flared as a second layer of overglow burst around the first. Streams of light poured from my head.
I felt a bullet lash past me, followed by the sound of a gunshot. Below, the blows against the double doors were causing the magical energy lance to bend.
I was still floating upward, carrying the unconscious zebra. We were nearing the cage. But our ascent was slowing alarmingly. One of the griffins above fired down at me, but the shot sparked off one of the bars of the cage.
"I can do this!" I told myself repeatedly.
A second shot sparked against the gate itself, inches from the padlock.
Who was I fooling? I could barely breathe! My magic faltered, the swirling curtain slipping, wavering.
No! "I can do this!"
I shifted the tumblers into place. The padlock sprung open. My vision swam again. I nearly lost everything.
The magical energy lance cracked in two. The doors below swung open and slavers stumbled into the arena.
Frantically, I hovered the padlock away and pushed open the gate. A moment later, we were through and I was running along the top of the cage as fast as my surviving lung would allow me. I let everything fall except my grasp around myself and Xenith. My whole body screamed in pain and exertion.
Shots rang out, bullets striking the cage about me from above and below. I weaved erratically, again doing my best to make a hard target. I was reaching the edge of the cage.
The ice arena was at the far end of the Fillydelphia FunFarm. With luck, I could jump from it over the fence, again putting a barrier between me and at least the ground-bound slavers.
The end of the cage came faster than I would have wanted. I jumped, screaming from the agony in my chest. The two of us soared out over the amusement park. My heart sank as I realized I had run the wrong way and my jump was taking me into the FunFarm rather than away from it.
A tearing kick jerked my right foreleg with a metallic crunch! The sound of Stern's anti-machine rifle followed closely after as searing red agony shot through my leg. The bullet had missed, just barely catching my PipBuck, but the force of that alone felt like it had shattered my leg!
I fell, my magical field imploding, collapsing onto a set of tracks several stories above the amusement park below.
• • •
I moaned, feeling the world thump rhythmically though my body as if I was riding a washing machine, and not in the way young fillies do to enjoy themselves. The world seemed crazily tilted. I could only take shallow breaths. Bright pain pulsed in my right foreleg. I heard gunfire.
Memory flooded back to me and my eyes shot open. I looked around, almost falling off the back of the zebra who was carrying me up a steep slope on the Fillydelphia FunFarm's roller coaster track.
I had been out for a few minutes at most. Long enough for the zebra to come to. Having awoken on the elevated tracks, jumping hadn't been an option. There were only two ways for her to go. I felt thankful that Xenith had returned the favor and taken me with her.
My first worry was for my PipBuck. I lifted my foreleg, but only managed to raise it a few inches before I let out a tortured scream, hot pain bursting through my leg.
My PipBuck had taken an indirect hit; it was not itself damaged, but the bullet had torn through the peripheral. The broadcaster was destroyed. And with it, my plan for escape.
I brought up my Eyes-Forward Sparkle. My PipBuck was flashing alerts. I had taken more rads from being in the middle of all that green sludge than my PipBuck liked. My chest and right foreleg had taken crippling wounds, the latter having suffered a wrenching sprain and a small hairline fracture in the bone.
Looking down, I saw slaver ponies shooting at us from the ground. By experience these mares and bucks were not the best shots even at close range. If they hit us at this distance with the cover of the tracks, it would be by sheer dumb luck.
Behind us even more were charging up the track, but they were well behind. It was the griffins that were the biggest threat. I looked around, but couldn't spot them. Which meant little.
Xenith reached the apex of the track, stopping just shy of it. A set of three colorfully-painted, pony-shaped carriages sat on the top of the roller coaster's hill, rusting for two hundred years. There wasn't any room to go around them, leaving the zebra no apparent choice but to climb over them.
She cautiously put a hoof onto the orange rear carriage and pressed her weight down on it. The carriage gave a metallic groan. She looked back at me with a grimace that I was able to match.
I focused, wrapping us in a levitation field to reduce our weight. Perspiration broke across my head. Hot coals formed in my lungs, only one of which could catch breath. The effort sucked all the remaining strength out of me. My magical field popped as I nearly blacked out again.
No. Dammit, why did this have to be happening now? I'd overtaxed my magic once before, and it had taken days (and a magical statuette) before I could properly float objects again. This felt much the same. Perhaps not a true burnout, but a severe drop in power, the result of having pushed so hard in such a weakened state. And true burnout could be imminent.
I steadied my breath and focused again. My horn glowed softly. The levitation field wrapped slowly around us. I was breathing quickly, nearly hyperventilating, but the field was holding. "Climb," I gasped, "Now."
The zebra cautiously mounted the carriage, then stepped down onto the bench of the first seat well. The old car rocked slightly, groaning again. Step by step she started walking across the trio of carriages.
We were halfway across the purple middle carriage when a hole punched through the nose of the carriage in front, followed by a distant report. I grunted as Xenith took an involuntary step backward and fell partially into the carriage seat. My magic imploded and the linked carriages let out a protesting whine.
I had been wrong. It wasn't the griffins I had to worry about. It was the snipers in the damn Pinkie Pie Balloons. Once we crested the top, we had put ourselves right in their crosshairs. And the carriages slowed us to a crawl, giving them easy shots.
Another shot punched clean through the seat and carriage frame behind us. Xenith dumped me off her back into the cover of the seat well, then scrambled to take cover in the seat well ahead of us. We were pinned.
The shadow of a griffin shot over us, dropping something that hit the rim of the stairwell and bounced over the edge of the track. A moment later, the grenade went off, the sound of splintering wood accenting the explosion. I felt a subtle and unpleasant shift in the carriage beneath us; the grenade had taken out some of the beams in the already precarious roller coaster's framework.
Another griffin soared past, spreading his wings and banking. With alarm, I saw the creature was holding a rocket launcher!
There was no time to think. We had to go.
Jumping out of the seat well, I swung around and bucked the link that held the front two carriages to the back one. Another gunshot ripped the air above my left flank and punched into the back carriage. I noticed belatedly that the nose of each carriage was shaped and painted to look comically like the faces of Pinkie Pie's friends.
I flung my forehooves back into the seat well and bucked Applejack in the face. My body screamed in protest, my right foreleg flaring in pain and slipping.
The orange rear carriage squealed and began sliding backwards down the tracks, sparks spraying from rust-jammed wheels. The slaver ponies charging after us stopped abruptly, standing like pins before a bowling ball, then turned and tried to run the other way. One of them tried to leap onto a lower set of tracks and disappeared from sight.
Without the rearmost carriage as an anchor, the front two began to slowly slide down the forward slope. I swung myself, trying to hook my injured leg back around the seat well's edge. I succeeded, but the pain slammed into my head like a sledgehammer. I screamed, nearly slipping free entirely.
Xenith jumped back into my seat well, grabbing my mane in her teeth.
The rocket-launcher griffin fired. A streak of smoke shot towards us, tipped with violent death.
Xenith wrenched me into the carriage, pushing us both down as far as we could go. A moment later, the rocket struck into the track almost where the rear car had been. The explosion washed over the top of us, cutting our backs with shrapnel and kissing us with flame. The carriage lurched forward hard, bucking up from the track and slamming back down as bits of metal track and chunks of burning wood rained into the park below. What had been a slow crawl forward was abruptly transformed into a racing plummet.
The carriages bumped and rattled, squealing all the way down. The light blue carriage ahead bucked and skipped, threatening to jump the tracks. If it did, we were done for. There was no Calamity to catch me this time.
My stomach lurched violently as the downhill slide swept into an uphill thrust, tossing us against the seat well's bench.
The upward angle of the carriage now left our seat well exposed. A bullet punched into the bench, inches from Xenith's left shoulder, spraying rotted foam.
One of the griffins (I believe the one who had tossed the grenade) had unslung his lever-action rifle and was flying towards us, slowly pumping shots in our direction. Our impromptu ride had put distance between us and them, but we were already slowing. He would be in optimal firing range in moments.
The second griffin was reloading his rocket launcher. A third swept around behind him and banked, moving out of my line of sight beneath the wooden hills of the roller coaster.
Lever-action griffin fired again, and a line of blood spurted from the back of Xenith's neck. A grazing shot that I knew must burn. But she gritted her teeth and kept silent. The griffin moved closer, aiming, and fired again.
The rifle was empty. Cursing, the griffin drew up into a hover and began to reload.
Reloading meant he had less of a grip on his weapon. I focused and telekinetically wrenched the firearm away, closing it. The griffin's eyes widened as his own weapon twirled around to point at him. BLAM!
As he fell, another stream of smoke leapt from the other griffin's missile launcher and raced towards us. The missile streaked past us, and I heard it detonate somewhere ahead.
I urgently floated the lever-action rifle, checking the shots. The griffin had only loaded two bullets into the rifle before I had snatched it away, leaving me with one shot. I had to choose my next sh-
The third griffin suddenly swooped up right next to our carriage as we crested the smaller hill, aiming a scattergun point blank at our faces.
BLAM! The griffin spiraled downward, my barely-aimed shot having gone through her wing.
Xenith was cringing in the seat well. I dared to sit up and look ahead. At the base of this hill, the track took a sharp curve and shot into the tunnel that passed through the barn-like Ministry of Morale building. But that second rocket had torn a hole in the track.
Xenith muttered something in a strange tongue, appearing at my side. Then, in a low voice, "I hope this is still going according to plan."
"Yes," I lied.
I crawled forward, cringing as a balloonist sniper sent another shot into the track ahead of us, the bullet from the anti-machine rifle obliterating a track tie. I hooked my flanks against the forward seat well and slid over the face of Twilight Sparkle. The small horn protruding from the front gave me something to brace a shoulder against. Reaching down with my left forehoof, I kicked at the latch, freeing the light blue forward car.
Freed of the extra weight, the forward car began to separate, slipping ahead. It hit the turn, then the gap... and the Rainbow Dash carriage did what it really wanted to do. It flew from the tracks and caught air.
Focusing for all I was worth, I enveloped the Twilight Sparkle car in a magical field, negating our weight. I prayed to Luna that it would be enough to let us jump the gap. I prayed to Celestia that my strength wouldn't give out until we had.
If there had been any doubt in my mind that the Goddesses were watching us from above, it evaporated as both prayers were answered.
• • •
The purple Twilight Sparkle carriage swept into the darkness of the tunnel. A hard jolt slammed through us as our out-of-control ride finally skipped the track. I felt my body being flung from the car as it skidded and flipped. I hit the track roughly; new pain bit deeply into my shoulder and arced like electricity along the nerves of my left foreleg as my left shoulder struck the metal rail.
Xenith remained huddled in the seat well as the carriage rolled once before crashing against a row of clown-pony-shaped pylons. I looked up, wheezing, to see the zebra's form crawl shakily out of the wreckage.
I struggled to my hooves. Both my forelegs protested with discordant pain. My head swam. I wondered if I was in shock.
Xenith trotted up to me. "So, my little pony savior," she said in her low, exotic voice, "This is still all part of the plan, yes?"
I turned on my PipBuck's lamp. "Somewhere in here, there has to be a way into the building."
"The plan to escape is to break into Red Eye's home?" I could hear the incredulity lurking behind her almost innocent tone.
I nodded. "We make it to the roof. There's always a Pinkie Pie Balloon anchored up there. We're going to take it. That's how we get past the moat and The Wall." I winced as I fought for breath. "I have friends waiting outside for us."
The zebra stared at me appraisingly. "Are all your friends as crazy as you?"
"You... don't have to follow me," I noted with a sigh. I had saved the zebra's life; but in doing so, I had kidnapped her. She couldn't go back to the slavers; we both knew that. Until she was past The Wall, I had pretty much trapped her with me. After that, however... "Although I really wish you would."
"You saved my life, little pony," she answered. "You are responsible for it now. It is up to you to get me to safety. Until then, I follow."
I nodded. "And after."
"You are still responsible," she said firmly. "Unless I take that responsibility from you."
I blinked. It was one thing to be thinking such thoughts. It was quite another to have them thrown back at me in some sort of insane zebra logic.
We trekked further into the tunnel, looking for a door into the old Ministry of Morale hub that Red Eye and Stern had made the center of their slave empire.
I was badly, badly hurt. But in my experience, I had a much easier time turning interiors to my advantage in a fight. I was feeling a touch of confidence returning.
The griffin with the missile launcher flew into the tunnel behind us. Both Xenith and I shrunk into the darkness around partial cover and held still. The griffin began to walk along the track, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
I focused on the latch of his saddlebags where he was keeping his extra missiles.
Nothing happened.
I focused again. Harder.
Nothing. Not even a faint glow from my horn, much less a telekinetic field. I hung my head. Burnout. That save jumping the gap had taken what little I had left. I was defenseless. And useless.
Dammit... why did this have to happen now? I had been counting on my levitation to at least get us into the balloon. Now, we'd have to find another way to get into it. If there was another way. And if we survived to the roof. Which was now much more in doubt.
I looked back up in time to see a shadow move near the griffin. Xenith had slipped right up next to him, completely unnoticed. Only now did I spot her as she struck out with a hoof. The griffin made a choking sound as his body went rigid. She wasted no time snapping his neck with her forehooves.
I looked over the griffin as he fell dead beside the zebra. I wished he had been carrying a rifle. I did contemplate taking the missile launcher. But then (not being SteelHooves) I decided against it. Clearly Xenith preferred a stealthy approach to combat similar to my own. Plus, with my lack of experience, teeth-wielding high-explosives inside a building seemed like a very bad idea.
I also wished his armor was more pony-shaped. I did, however, empty his saddlebags and take them for myself.
• • •
I peeked around the corner, staring down a decaying pink hallway. Two ponies wearing armor in Red Eye's colors were standing guard near a wall terminal, watching over a shallow alcove opposite them. I thought I saw the glow of a Sunrise Sarsaparilla machine coming out of it. These guards weren't actively hunting us; but as best I could tell, there was no way around them. The only other way up had collapsed decades ago.
Still, I felt a pang at the idea of attacking ponies who weren't even threatening us, slavers or not. This stretched the definition of self-defense. I wondered if it would be possible to sneak past them; but the hallway was far too narrow, and they were standing with their tails to the wall. We'd have to pass directly in front of them. And no matter how light-hooved we were, crouching didn't make us invisible.
Xenith slipped past me before I could motion to her. She had no moral hesitation about killing random members of Red Eye's forces. To my surprise, she managed to creep halfway down the hall before they spotted her. She crossed the remaining distance with a leap, landing on her forehooves and bucking one of the guards in the head hard enough to send his helmet clattering down the hallway.
The other guard was a unicorn, and she was already floating an automatic rifle towards the zebra.
I screamed out at the pain in my legs as I charged the guard, lowering my horn. The unicorn turned, surprised by the second attacker, giving Xenith a chance to kick the automatic rifle. The magical field around it imploded as the weapon flew out of it and bounced against a dingy pink wall. My horn glanced off the guard's armor, hurting me more than her. Her horn was glowing.
Electricity burst around her, tearing at my nerves as I stumbled and fell to the floor. Between the guard's legs, I could see Xenith collapse as well. I groaned, remembering that (unlike me) other unicorns have more magic than mere telekinesis under their hats.
The unicorn wrapped her automatic rifle in a new sheath of magical energy and floated it over me, apparently considering a unicorn attacker to be the most dangerous threat. Fatal mistake.
The automatic rifle went off, peppering the ground next to me with bullets as Xenith swept the unicorn's legs out from under her. I was barely able to move, but the zebra seemed to have recovered most of her faculties. My striped companion rolled onto the guard pony and struck her repeatedly in the face with her forehooves. I cringed at the sound of the unicorn's horn shattering. The magic around the rifle evaporated and the firearm fell to the ground within biting distance.
By the time I had gotten up, rifle in mouth, Xenith had rendered both guards deceased.
I looked around. True to my suspicions, the alcove across from the guards held a couple of vending machines -- a Sunset Sarsaparilla machine and a functional-looking Ironshod's Ammo Emporium. Between them was the heavy metal door of a vault.
• • •
"What is this?" Xenith asked, staring into the room that had been sealed behind the vault door.
She had been understandably perturbed when I stopped to hack the terminal, but relented when I explained that I needed to catch my breath. A statement my shallow, harsh breathing had proven altogether true. The worst part of my injuries was the fact that I couldn't risk healing them -- not with a broken rib and punctured lung. Any poultice would cause those to heal wrong. I needed Velvet Remedy before I could dare use anything more than a healing bandage. And in our situation, I didn't even dare use painkillers. I needed to be thinking straight.
"The Wasteland, taunting me," I answered as I stepped into the vault, looking around at the mostly-empty shelves with their scattering of memory orbs -- none of which I could look into without my magic -- and the line of passkey-coded wall safes along the back -- none of which I could open. The Equestrian Wasteland loved rubbing my face in my every moment of weakness.
"What are they?" she questioned, looking at the dozens of orbs littering the floor.
"Confessions."
I started collecting the orbs, picking them up in my teeth and dropping them into one of my pilfered saddlebags opposite the ammo and bottles of sarsaparilla. Moving through the shelves, I spotted the glow of another terminal. Perhaps there was a way into the safes after all.
Reaching it, I hooked my PipBuck into the terminal and began my hack. The terminal was exceptionally tough. The little pony in my head started crying out for Mint-als after the third time that I was forced to back out of the system before its security protocols could lock it up. I fought to silence that voice.
I was increasingly aware of how long this was taking. Stern had ponies scouring the building and surrounding grounds for us. They were spread out, but eventually one or more of them would stumble across us.
"One more try!" I insisted to Xenith after I backed out a fourth time. "If I can't get it, we go."
"Why are you trying to unlock Red Eye's safes anyway? What do you hope to find?" Xenith asked reasonably. "Balloon tickets, perhaps?"
I snorted. I was about to reply, probably with something snide, when I found the password: Sir Lints-a-lot. After staring at that for a moment, I no longer felt bad about not figuring it out sooner.
From the timestamps on the terminal, it became clear that nopony else had figured that out either. The terminal had not been used to access these safes in more than two hundred years. A security notice indicated that the far left safe had been accessed several times in the last few years through use of the passkey.
I opened them all.
The far right safe held a badly damaged memory orb case with a single orb inside. The other three were gone. There was also an audio log, a dingy cloak, a StealthBuck and half-a-dozen files. I caught Xenith's reaction as I pulled out the cloak, even though she recovered quickly.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," she lied.
I took the audio recording and memory orb, keeping them separate from the mess of orbs I had collected from the floor. I offered Xenith the cloak. Its dingy color would provide better camouflage than her stark stripes, and it was too large for me. She nodded and put it on, but it slipped off. The neck clasp was broken.
I opened the second safe and jumped back in alarm at the pulsing, swirling lights that poured out. Inside were four egg-shaped objects that glowed with a hypnotic dance of dark colors. "W-what?"
Xenith trotted closer, studying the objects without looking directly into them. "Balefire eggs."
I stared dumbly for a moment as my brain deciphered this. That's right. Fluttershy didn't actually design city-destroying spells. She designed the magical framework that would take a normal spell and augment it beyond... well, beyond anything they really imagined. But like the healing spell, there had to be a magic to be amplified. These balefire eggs were the base magic for the mass-murdering balefire bombs.
"H-how big an explosion?" I asked my zebra companion.
"I don't know. I was never alive two hundred years ago fighting in a war where these were used."
Touché. I imagined the Ministry of Morale confiscated these on a raid of some sort. I could see why they would still be locked up.
The third safe held what looked like a Pegasus Enclave helmet with a built-in recollector, complete with black opal. It also held a whole lot of paperwork labeled "CZA", including many photographs too warped by age to make out. I yanked the paperwork out, scattering it onto the floor as I tried to get at something that was hidden behind it.
"Citizen Zebra Activities," Xenith said behind me, reading one of the folders I had knocked out of the safe. "Your government was paying close attention to every zebra living in Equestria."
"Not my government," I corrected swiftly. "And the Ministry of Morale was watching everypony."
Behind the papers was what looked like a first-generation PipBuck. The PipBuck was still closed, and there were ancient bloodstains in the felt lining. It had been removed through amputation, hopefully post-mortem. I quickly plugged the PipBuck into my own and started looking through the files, but they were encrypted with that odd dual-encryption which I had discovered my first night out of Stable Two. The only thing I could get from it was an automapped floor plan for Stable Three. The Stable looked identical to Stable Two, except that the apple orchard was only two-thirds the size and there were two interlocking Overmare's Offices. I shuddered inexplicably.
The final safe was the one Red Eye had been using. And it held the big prize.
The schematics for the Radiation-Powered Engine.
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Bronibooru *clap clap clapclapclap*
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
The server iddn't break so in some ways i consider LYAT a failure
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CorvusCaw
- Posts: 155
- Joined: Tue Oct 31, 2017 10:39 pm
- Gender: Female
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
<Berrybot>1 desktop, 1 laptop and throw up sometimes and sometimes they're obviouuusly in *hic* lyat we loveeeepost *hic*
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Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
I'm literally not even halfway through
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
I hope Dr Wily wins the VGCW championship tomorrow #yolo
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Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Xenith took an involuntary step back from the poster at the top of the stairwell. "Doombunny!" she whispered enigmatically.
I stared from my zebra companion to the poster and back. It was the same poster I had seen in the clinic, only this time in better repair: Fluttershy surrounded by animals, with the words "REMEMBER: We are all in this together! Care for one another."
At first, I thought Xenith was referring to Fluttershy. It almost made sense; I could see Fluttershy being regarded as a bringer of doom and destruction, considering her connection to the megaspells. And she was abundantly cute.
Then my eyes caught the little white rabbit sitting on her head. My eyebrows went up and I turned to Xenith in disbelief. "Doombunny? Seriously?"
Xenith snorted. "You would not understand. You have not heard the tales of Fluttershy's protector."
My ears were tilted and I knew I was giving her the most astoundingly dubious look.
"Doombunny was a horror on the battlefield. Fluttershy came to heal, even the zebra soldiers, and her protection annihilated anyone foolish enough to try to attack her."
"The... bunny."
"oooh... Doombunny was more than just a rabbit. Doombunny was death with sharp, pointy teeth..."
She was messing with me. She had to be messing with me.
"...more powerful than a creature several times its size, thanks to the chemicals doombunny brewed in secret laboratories."
"Chemicals?" This was insane.
Xenith lowered her face to mine, speaking in that odd accent. "Oh yes. Doombunny was a master in the laboratory. I also hear it could cook and toss a mean salad." She smiled just a little. She was messing with me.
Although, from the look in her eyes, not entirely.
We moved on, finding ourselves, all too appropriately, in what seemed to be a research laboratory floor. Beyond the stairwell was a single door with a small window set into it. Through the window we could see a sprawling place dedicated to arcane and earth pony sciences. A huge picture window on the far end of the room glowed with the deepening red-tinted light of Fillydelphia. The day was ending. The sun would set soon.
We slipped through the door silently. The one pony trotting around inside had not noticed our entry. Xenith made quick work of him.
I put down the automatic rifle and started tugging off his lab coat. Xenith raised an eyebrow as I shucked it on. "It's not much protection," I admitted. "But anything is better than nothing..." I could have taken the armor from Red Eye's guards; but after nearly being killed by a pegasus, I wasn't going to make that mistake again. "...besides, it makes me feel more science-y."
Xenith rolled her eyes then trotted towards the apothecary cabinets in the trot-in closet towards the back of the room. She put a hoof through the lock of the first one and pulled it open.
I pulled out the audio recording, downloading it into my PipBuck, intending to play it while we gave the room a look-over. My eyes fell to the schematics for Party-Time Mint-als. This research lab certainly would have everything I needed to make some, and I was feeling increasingly desperate.
It took a severe force of will to scroll away from the recipe. I forced myself to think of Calamity. Velvet Remedy. Homage...
I remembered Homage's sweet voice. And something she said floated back to me:
...Oh, a mixture of Rage and painkillers. A friend and I found the recipe in the ruins of a M.O.P. clinic when we were younger...
I blinked. Then called out to Xenith.
"Wait... you mean to tell me that Fluttershy's pet rabbit invented Stampede?"
• • •
"Hello?"
Rarity's voice asked in my earbloom as I started looking through the terminals and notes that filled the lab. It swiftly became clear that I was getting only one side of a conversation.
"Oh, hello, Your Majesty! How delightful of you to call!
"Oh, same as always. So much to do, so many projects, and so little time! Honestly, half the time I feel the same about running a Ministry as Fluttershy felt about being a model! But the other half, I absolutely love it! Of course, I still find the time to create new dresses. And to get my beauty sleep. I think I'd go insane if I didn't... Oh, no no no. A few missed meals never hurt anypony. And it helps me keep my figure.
"Yes. Yes I did hear what happened to Zecora, and I'm as enraged by it as anypony. I've already promised Pinkie Pie any resources my Ministry has to offer to help hers hunt down the brutes responsible and bring them to justice. ...On the plus side, you have to admit, the new poster line is really effective."
Rarity sounded legitimately upset about Zecora, and only thinly pleased about the effectiveness of her propaganda. The name was familiar. Oh yes, the zebra who was Applejack's friend, possibly a friend of all of them. I could see why Rarity would draw the connection.
"...Pinkie Pie? She's always eccentric darling! ...No, not any more than usual... No, Princess Luna, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Strange and Pinkie Pie go hoof-in-hoof. You just learn to accept that about her and love her all the more for it."
I recalled how Twilight Sparkle, in the Vinyl Scratch orb, had commented on everyone covering for Pinkie Pie and her addiction. I was immediately thankful I'd resisted the urge to make more Party-Time Mint-als.
"I will admit, however, that I am getting a bit worried about a few of my other friends. ...Well, I've heard a rumor, just a rumor mind you, that Applejack is having some... trouble within her own Ministry. ...No, I really couldn't say.
"...And Twilight... Have you seen her recently? She's just exhausted! And terribly stressed out. The poor dear has taken on so much responsibility and so much work... Well, you have to admit, other than me of course, Twilight Sparkle is the only one who has really tried to run her Ministry, rather than just tossing ideas at them like horseshoes... And the less said about Rainbow Dash's 'Ministry', the better. ...and with the big move underway; and Spike's started his draconic adolescence, so you just know he's a real saddle-full right now... No, no. But Princess Luna, I really think Twilight Sparkle needs a vacation...
"No, everypony else is fine. At least, they were the last time I saw them. Fluttershy's doing brilliantly. I see her every week... I do wish I could see the others more often. They were my first real friends... my only ones, to be honest. And I miss them all terribly. But there's just always so much to do. I can't remember the last time we were all together... Oh, wait, I can. It was Pinkie Pie's birthday party. No, not this year's. Last year, I think. ...Or was it the year before?
For the first time in the conversation Rarity's voice faltered. I could feel the sadness she was trying to hide. It resonated deeply. Maybe because my heart held a similar ache.
"Oh no, I'm fine. It's just... sometimes it feels like we're pulling apart. And I can't stand to see that happen. I really must do something about it."
I needed my friends. I was trembling from more than just pain as the audio recording drew to a close.
"No, Princess Luna, the pleasure was all mine! Thank you so much for calling!"
• • •
I re-read the entries that had been concealed within the terminal at the lead researcher's desk. (A desk which had held an ashtray, a box of cigars and nearly two dozen bottle caps.)
Bypass spells. According to the research I was seeing, the Ministry of Arcane Sciences had cracked it already, about a month before the end of their world. They had even begun limited use, not for weapons but to create shield screens that would only allow specific materials to pass through.
Red Eye's research in here had been two-fold. First, his scientists had been working to apply a bypass to some sort of weapon effect. The full details had been redacted after the research had been successful. From what little I could read, that was less than a week before I had arrived. I was willing to extend the Steel Ranger's Elder the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn't know. The second line of research was ongoing, and had met with considerably less promising results -- Red Eye was trying to figure out how to trick a Bypass into ignoring something it wasn't designed to ignore.
Xenith had filled a bag full of herbs and chemicals from the supply closet and was trotting back towards me when something outside the window made her freeze in her tracks.
I abandoned the terminal and moved to her side as quickly as my legs and breath would allow. I stared out the window as something huge came out of the red glow of the Fillydelphia Crater.
It was an armored black alicorn, easily three times the size of a normal one, the air about her rippling with power. She flew towards us, leaving swaths of energy in her wake.
"W-w-what is....?" I couldn't speak further. My mouth had gone dry.
"She's been basking in the radiation of the Fillydelphia Crater," Xenith commented. Then explained as if to a child, "The creatures of radiation do not merely heal in its presence. If they absorb enough of it, they grow stronger. More powerful."
Alicorns could become... massive, behemoth super-alicorns? I squeaked in impotent rage. "T-that's not fair!'
I looked up towards the sky, cursing Celestia and Luna in turn. Wasn't it enough that they were magically far more adept than I? That they were smart? Crafty? Fucking telepathic? With shields that only a small number of things could apparently get through? And they could fly?!
And go invisible? Or teleport?
I found enough voice to rasp at the heavens, "What do You want from me!? In Your names, what the fuck do You want!??"
A field of dark blue light wrapped around the enormous window. The glass began to vibrate. I had a sudden image of the abattoir that I had turned the maze of mirrors into.
"Run," I whispered to Xenith.
We turned and fled.
As we dived through the door to the stairwell, I heard that window shatter. And I heard none of the shards hit the ground. I spun and shoved the door closed behind us an eyeblink before the super-alicorn sent hundreds of lethal shards of glass into the door.
When the barrage ended, I lifted myself up and dared a peek through the little window on the door. I watched as the huge black alicorn swept into the room and activated her shield, a bubble of scintillating force expanding around her with enough power to tear into the floor and ceiling, blasting apart desks and chemistry sets. The energy sloughing off the bubble caused nearby terminals to explode in sprays of sparks. I saw the automatic rifle which I'd left behind fall through the broken floor into the level below.
Well, at least I didn't have to worry about destroying the research.
I turned away, terrified, and discovered that I could make myself gallop far faster than my body wanted to let me. It hurt, my chest raged as if I was breathing liquid fire, but I ran.
• • •
The alicorn blasted up through the floor into the hallway. Her size was too big to comfortably move through the space, but it hardly mattered. Her shield just ripped away the walls as she passed near them, chewing up parts of the offices on either side.
The thought flashed through my mind that she might just bring this whole building down on top of the three of us. Her horn blazed with an almost black light. Her shield dropped briefly as she lashed out with dark energies that only crudely resembled black lightning.
I tore around a corner, my body feeling like it was about to explode and then explode again. Xenith was in front of me, moving far more gracefully. The hallway behind us was shredded with a smell of ozone and black licorice.
I followed her up another flight of stairs, screaming out in agony and hating the building for making us climb when the damn monster behind us didn't have to.
The super-alicorn tore through the ceiling, hovering in front of us as we made it to the top. I stumbled and crashed to a stop, realizing with utter loathing that we would have to go back down. Only my body didn't want to move anymore. My body wanted to just give up and die.
I felt Xenith bite into my mane and toss me onto her back.
The giant black alicorn spread her wings and pointed her horn. A point of light flickered in the front of her shield then spiraled to create an opening. I realized with dismay and amazement that even if I had my magic, it would be useless. This alicorn's shield was so powerful even she couldn't cast a spell through it.
Xenith went down, dropping me like a sack of pain. I saw her twitching.
Heart attack spell. She would be permanently damaged or dead within seconds.
I screamed! At the super-alicorn for being so ridiculously powerful and evil and totally unfair! At the Goddessess for allowing such a nightmare to exist and for making me face it and just after I had lost my magic too! At the Fillydelphia Crater for being so damn radioactive!
With a rage-fueled strength beyond what I could actually muster, I wrenched my suffering body off the floor and galloped at the creature which I suddenly realized looked an awful lot like those old pictures of Nightmare Moon. I leapt, jumping partway into the opening of the super-alicorn's shield. The edge cut deeply into my chest, like I was hanging on a curved razor blade. I struggled, cutting my self even worse, my blood poured down both the inside and outside of the shield.
The alicorn at least had the grace to look shocked. I had successfully caused her to drop the spell attacking Xenith's heart.
I couldn't get inside with her. But with a mortally wounded cry, I tossed my head back, pulled open one of my saddlebags, and dumped the contents inside the shield.
Dozens of memory orbs scattered along the bottom of the magical bubble. The alicorn glanced at them and was unimpressed. She turned her attention to me. In a panic, I realized what was about to happen and kicked myself away before the hole in the shield scythed closed. If I had been any slower, the super-alicorn's shield would have cut me in half.
I collapsed, bleeding heavily on the floor. That was it. I was done. Time to sleep now.
But as I passed out, there was a slight smile on my face, despite all the pain. I had saved Xenith. And I had proven that you could trick one of these fucking cunts the same way twice.
The last thing I saw before darkness overwhelmed me was the alicorn floating in her impervious bubble, cut off from every danger except for a few dozen memory orbs. And four balefire eggs.
I never heard the explosion. But Xenith later told me it was... loud, only louder.
• • •
When I awoke, we were in a buck's bathroom. I was propped up in a stall, looking out at a poster of Pinkie Pie (watching you piss forever?). I didn't hurt anywhere near as much as I should, assuming I wasn't simply dead (and really, who would put a Pinkie Pie poster in a bathroom in heaven... or for that matter, in a bathroom anywhere?), which worried me considerably. I felt light-headed and... odd.
I looked down. I was wrapped in healing bandages. Probably three or four medical kit's worth. There were more on the floor next to me, blood-drenched and spent. I had been in here for some time. My mind grudgingly realized I was doped up on painkillers.
This escape plan was going well.
Xenith trotted back into view. "You are an insane pony."
"Thank you."
"I wish I could let you rest some more, but we must go. We are being hunted."
I nodded and tried to get up. My limbs didn't want to co-operate. A moment later, I once again found myself riding the zebra, slung over her back like an old carpet. I blushed with embarrassment and hoped I didn't bleed all over her. I wondered what riding like this would do to the wounds on my breast, and how well the magical bandages had healed my other injuries. My left shoulder no longer hurt, and my right leg felt only mildly sprained.
Xenith picked up my saddlebags with her teeth and then added them across her flanks along with her sack of apothecary supplies. I helped tie it to her securely.
My striped companion crept through the floors swiftly yet cautiously, clearly trying to keep ahead of something. I knew we were being hunted by Stern's slavers. But something about this felt different. My thoughts turned dark. After the super-alicorn, I wasn't ready for another surprise opponent.
"What's after us?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"Winter," Xenith whispered in an ominous tone.
My painkiller-fogged mind fought to make sense of that. "It's summer," I responded blandly.
The zebra snorted. "Red Eye's cyberdog. Winter is tracking our scent."
My mind replayed part of a broadcast from Red Eye that I had found particularly striking: I was lucky, fortunate beyond my deserving, to be blessed with safe places to roam, security from the fiends and horrors of the Equestrian Wasteland, and companionship in the form of my beloved dog, Winter. Oh, the adventures we had.
If he was but a colt at that time, the dog should have passed away naturally from old age. But now I imagined that instead of letting that happen, he'd cybernetically enhanced it, replacing part after part as each failed. It was macabre.
I groaned. I really, really needed to get out of Fillydelphia.
We made it up two flights of stairs without trouble. Three times, Xenith managed to creep past slavers unnoticed even with me on her back. As we passed an open office, I could see the overhang of eves out the window, shadowed in the light of a setting sun that turned the world outside the color of a bloody river. We were almost to the roof.
I heard a low, tinny growl.
I looked back. Behind us, I saw a half-robotic dog stalking towards us. Winter was more machine than animal. His brain was encased in a lightly glowing tank which looked so shockingly like that of a brain-bot that I began to assume it wasn't ponies but pet dogs whose brains were used in those awful things. Winter's forepaws ended in claws that looked like they were made from the clawtips of hellhounds.
Even Xenith didn't want to fight that thing. The zebra bolted, galloping as fast as she could. Winter howled and gave chase, the glow of his brain-case shifting to crimson.
I wished I still had the automatic rifle. Or, for that matter, any weapon at all. Somehow, I didn't think I could strike it down with baleful looks.
We made it to the stairwell marked "Roof Access", the cyberdog nipping at Xenith's hooves. I realized belatedly that the dog could have jumped and started tearing me apart, but it chose not to. We were being corralled.
I turned to warn Xenith. Before I could, we burst out onto the roof. Xenith skidded to a stop, trapped between the Ministry of Morale roof and the cloudy, blood-red sky.
The anchored Pinkie Pie Balloon was still there. But so were two others, with a third closing in. Half a dozen anti-machine rifles were trained in our direction.
With a clear note of sarcasm, Xenith asked, "Still according to plan, right?"
Winter came out behind us and stopped as if guarding the door back.
• • •
I closed my eyes, waiting for the shot. But the sniper ponies were hesitating. Waiting for something. The growl behind us gave Xenith a clue. "Red Eye's coming."
So, the bastard was going to take care of us himself? Fuck that. "Oh, come on!" I yelled up at the giant, inflated Pinkie Pie heads. "Just do it already!"
I was exhausted. The painkillers were wearing off and the pain was beginning to flood back in.
A pillar of golden flame, tinged with balefire green, shot out of the Fillydelphia Crater. The bolt of light reached its apex and spread out wings that flared across the sky like a second sun.
Pyrelight dipped and swooped towards us, burning with an aura of emerald and gold nearly a hundred times her size.
The creatures of radiation do not merely heal in its presence. If they absorb enough, they grow stronger, more powerful.
Sorry, Celestia, Luna... for everything bad I thought!
The incoming Pinkie Pie Balloon erupted in flame just at Pyrelight's passing. The majestic harbinger opened her beak and bright green balefire blasted out, tearing across the roof above us. All three of the Pinkie Pie Balloons ignited, becoming infernos. Bits of burning balloon and slaver flesh rained down on us as the blazing zeppelins began to collapse, sinking towards the amusement park below. I hoped nastily that it was full of slavers surrounding the building.
"Pyrelight!" I cheered, clopping my hooves in applause!
Xenith stared upwards, having lost the very notion of speech.
The cyberdog panicked and fled down the stairwell.
Pyrelight swooped around. I could see the energy she had absorbed was already bleeding off of her, like the scintillating waves that came off the black alicorn. The bird dived, and I thought I could hear the crackling of fire and the sound of slaver screams below.
I was so overjoyed at the turn of events that it took me several minutes to realize that Pyrelight had incinerated what I had hoped to be our ride.
We were still trapped in Fillydelphia.
• • •
Our capture was as ignominious as it was inevitable.
I found myself staring through a haze of red. Not a fault of my own vision, but a property of the room we had been marched into. The air was filled with some sort of odd steam. My already strained lungs pitched a fit as I attempted to breathe it. Red lamps lined the room, diffusing their light to make the air take a sickening scarlet tint.
There was a line on the floor that the well-armed griffins beside us had warned us not to cross. Winter crouched nearby, ready to launch himself at the first to run. With Xenith's skills, I thought it might still be possible to fight our way out of the situation. But the very idea made me want to drop from weariness.
Red Eye trotted in through a door on the opposite wall next to a large, dark screen. He raised a hoof and the griffins flanking us took their leave. I heard them lock and bar the door behind us.
"Littlepip," he said graciously. "Sit, relax. I mean you no harm."
Obviously, the same couldn't be said for us. I was still processing the mere notion that Red Eye would lock himself in a room with us when Xenith charged at him, murder in her eyes.
She slammed against an invisible wall hard enough that she was lucky she didn't break her neck. I stared around and realized suddenly the reason for the odd atmosphere. "You're using the reddened mist to conceal an alicorn shield," I surmised aloud. I was actually slightly impressed. "You must have at least two of the green ones doing their statue thing just behind the walls."
Red Eye beamed at me. (Literally -- in the mist, the line of red light shooting from his cybernetic eye was clearly visible.) "I wanted us to be able to talk freely. Without anypony attacking anypony else." He shot a wry look at the recovering zebra.
"What do you want?" I asked dourly. There was only one reason I could think of for him to spare us. And I didn't like it.
"All I want you to do is something you were going to do anyway," Red Eye said in a tone both casual and infuriatingly confident. "I just want you to do it on my timescale."
Great. My mortal enemy had a quest for me. My life sucked.
"I want you to kill the Goddess."
My jaw hit the floor.
Okay, I did not see that coming. "B... but you serve the Goddess! You... you're Her high-fucking-priest!"
Red Eye scowled slightly, sitting back. "I like to think of us more like... partners. And sadly, the partnership is no longer beneficial to my goals." He looked me over, ignoring Xenith completely. "And after your handling of the Crater Alicorn, I really do think you have what it takes to succeed."
"Do tell." I glowered.
"As I'm sure you've noticed, the Goddess controls Her children. Telepathically. They are not so much individuals as they are extensions of Her will. And they will remain so until She is finally put to rest."
I nodded solemnly.
"There is no point working towards the freedom of all ponies if Unity comes with chains," Red Eye pontificated. "There is no room in the New Equestria for slave masters, and no room for slaves."
Xenith nickered, "Not much room for you then." I smiled, my own sentiment echoing hers.
Red Eye regarded us calmly. "No. No there is not."
Okay, second time he caught me by surprise. "What do you intend to do then? Kill yourself?"
He laughed. Red Eye had a charismatic, likeable laugh. I hated him for that. "No, no. I plan to ascend. Once you have taken care of the Goddess, it will finally be time for me to join Unity myself. But not as one of the rest of you. Somepony will have to take up the tasks that the Princesses and pegasi left to run wild, after all. Somepony will have to regulate the weather, to raise the sun and the moon."
I blinked. "Okay, I've got a new theory. You're a loony." Seriously, the Goddess couldn't manage these things, much less an alicorned earth pony.
Again he laughed, setting my nerves on edge. "Well, then I will fail. But either way, I will be out of your mane. You won't have to worry about me further. And won't that be nice? Crushing two eggs under one hoof?"
I really hated this stallion. "And what about all your work," I argued. Dammit, the one reason I was at all hesitant to take down this monster was because even I could see the good his efforts would eventually bring about. I could... admire what he was building, even if I hated how he was doing it. "What about the schools? The hospitals? Rebuilding an infrastructure that will allow Equestria to pull itself out of this post-apocalyptic pit?!"
Red Eye feigned contemplation. "Oh, dear. Well then, I suppose you'll just have to take my place and see it through."
My jaw was on the floor again. Once more, he had blindsided me. How did he keep doing that?
"You want me to... what?"
Red Eye smiled. "Want you to? Or just expect that you won't let all this just fall apart. Of course, I'm sure you'll try to find a way to accomplish all this without the regrettable horrors of slavery. And, with at least the foundation I've managed in place, you might even succeed." He gave me a gracious bow. "I certainly hope so." Then added in a businesslike tone, "The Goddess is still in Her... home in Maripony."
I realized there was another horseshoe waiting to drop.
"And... so you'll let me go?"
The black-maned cyberpony nodded. "Somewhat implicit in the request." Without even looking at Xenith, he added, "And you can take your new zebra friend with you. The two of you seem to be... effective together. Agree, and she has her freedom."
Xenith stared at me with an unfathomable expression. I knew she wanted her freedom enough to risk her life for it, to kill other slaves for it. Was she asking me to accept? Or was she warning me about deals with devils?
"And if I refuse to kill the Goddess?"
Red Eye frowned. "Well, I would prefer not to resort to threats. But let's just say that by succeeding, you will save the lives of your friends in the tower."
No! I should never have sent them into that place alone! Oh Goddesses, what had I done?
"W-what have you done with Calamity, Velvet Remedy and SteelHooves?" I demanded in a frightened voice. "Are they okay?"
Red Eye's one real eye blinked. "Oh, you mean your assault team at the Fillydelphia Tower station? I sent Stern on ahead with a full squad of her best to give them a warm greeting. I'm sure at least one of them survived."
I swallowed hard, feeling all of Equestria fall out from under me. "I... I want to see them."
Red Eye nodded graciously. He trotted to a button on the wall beneath the large screen. "Stern, report. I have somepony here who wants to see the captives."
The monitor screen lit up. For a moment, all it showed was ruins and blood.
Then a hoof rose up, tapping on the screen. "Hey!" Calamity's smiling face and orange mane came into view. "Ah think this here just turned on!"
I could hear the low grumble of SteelHooves voice, "Calamity, don't mess with it."
"Oh, hold on," Calamity said, looking slightly up. "Hey, Ah can see Li'lpip through this thing now. Heya, kid!"
This was obviously not the response Red Eye had been expecting. I felt a crippling surge of relief and collapsed to the floor.
"oh, an' y'all must be Red Eye. Can't say it's ah pleasure t'... whoa! Y'all are a cyberpony! Ah didn't think those were even real!"
Red Eye finally found his voice. "Calamity, is it? I take it you have killed..."
"Yer welcomin' party? That who ya was expectin? Sorry, but they all can't make it on account of them bein' mostly blown up."
"Mostly?"
"We kept yer griffin gal all safe an' cozy. Trust me, she ain't hardly hurt, and she ain't feelin' a bit o' pain," Calamity said with a mock friendliness that didn't touch the steel glint in his eyes. "Figured things mighta gone a bit south fer our friend Li'lpip, so Ah decided we oughta keep someone fer trade."
• • •
I watched as the drawbridge lowered over the moat. On the other side, through the electrified gate, I could see Velvet Remedy and SteelHooves flanking a thoroughly trussed-up and glowering Stern. Calamity was sitting sniper in an undisclosed location.
I could almost feel the air grow colder when SteelHooves' gaze fell on my striped companion.
Red Eye stood next to me, protected inside an alicorn shield -- the projecting alicorns were hidden in a sewer passage right beneath us yet safely out of Calamity's field of view. "Remember my offer, Littlepip. Kill the Goddess..." he whispered to me, clearly unconcerned that the Goddess' children might hear. (Judging from my experience on the roof of Horseshoe Tower, I strongly suspected they couldn't hear anything at all.) "...and you not only get rid of her, but you get rid of me. And save your friends in the tower."
I blinked then turned to him with a cross stare. "I think we've already established that threat is pretty stupid." I pointed a hoof at my friends waiting for me on the other side of the gate.
Red Eye cocked his head, and for a moment I think he was actually confused.
"Ah. I apologize for the misunderstanding. I don't mean these friends in that tower..." he said, nodding towards the rising white needle of the Fillydelphia Tower. "I mean your friends in Tenpony Tower."
I felt my blood go cold.
"Now, I know that the damn building has already survived one balefire bomb, but do you really think it could survive another?"
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Gladiator Pony – The action point cost for all unarmed attacks performed in S.A.T.S. is reduced by 10%
Quest Perk added: Fillydelphia Survivor – Your vicious fights behind The Wall in the Fillydelphia ruins have left you stronger. Your damage threshold is increased by two and your radiation resistance increases by +3%
I stared from my zebra companion to the poster and back. It was the same poster I had seen in the clinic, only this time in better repair: Fluttershy surrounded by animals, with the words "REMEMBER: We are all in this together! Care for one another."
At first, I thought Xenith was referring to Fluttershy. It almost made sense; I could see Fluttershy being regarded as a bringer of doom and destruction, considering her connection to the megaspells. And she was abundantly cute.
Then my eyes caught the little white rabbit sitting on her head. My eyebrows went up and I turned to Xenith in disbelief. "Doombunny? Seriously?"
Xenith snorted. "You would not understand. You have not heard the tales of Fluttershy's protector."
My ears were tilted and I knew I was giving her the most astoundingly dubious look.
"Doombunny was a horror on the battlefield. Fluttershy came to heal, even the zebra soldiers, and her protection annihilated anyone foolish enough to try to attack her."
"The... bunny."
"oooh... Doombunny was more than just a rabbit. Doombunny was death with sharp, pointy teeth..."
She was messing with me. She had to be messing with me.
"...more powerful than a creature several times its size, thanks to the chemicals doombunny brewed in secret laboratories."
"Chemicals?" This was insane.
Xenith lowered her face to mine, speaking in that odd accent. "Oh yes. Doombunny was a master in the laboratory. I also hear it could cook and toss a mean salad." She smiled just a little. She was messing with me.
Although, from the look in her eyes, not entirely.
We moved on, finding ourselves, all too appropriately, in what seemed to be a research laboratory floor. Beyond the stairwell was a single door with a small window set into it. Through the window we could see a sprawling place dedicated to arcane and earth pony sciences. A huge picture window on the far end of the room glowed with the deepening red-tinted light of Fillydelphia. The day was ending. The sun would set soon.
We slipped through the door silently. The one pony trotting around inside had not noticed our entry. Xenith made quick work of him.
I put down the automatic rifle and started tugging off his lab coat. Xenith raised an eyebrow as I shucked it on. "It's not much protection," I admitted. "But anything is better than nothing..." I could have taken the armor from Red Eye's guards; but after nearly being killed by a pegasus, I wasn't going to make that mistake again. "...besides, it makes me feel more science-y."
Xenith rolled her eyes then trotted towards the apothecary cabinets in the trot-in closet towards the back of the room. She put a hoof through the lock of the first one and pulled it open.
I pulled out the audio recording, downloading it into my PipBuck, intending to play it while we gave the room a look-over. My eyes fell to the schematics for Party-Time Mint-als. This research lab certainly would have everything I needed to make some, and I was feeling increasingly desperate.
It took a severe force of will to scroll away from the recipe. I forced myself to think of Calamity. Velvet Remedy. Homage...
I remembered Homage's sweet voice. And something she said floated back to me:
...Oh, a mixture of Rage and painkillers. A friend and I found the recipe in the ruins of a M.O.P. clinic when we were younger...
I blinked. Then called out to Xenith.
"Wait... you mean to tell me that Fluttershy's pet rabbit invented Stampede?"
• • •
"Hello?"
Rarity's voice asked in my earbloom as I started looking through the terminals and notes that filled the lab. It swiftly became clear that I was getting only one side of a conversation.
"Oh, hello, Your Majesty! How delightful of you to call!
"Oh, same as always. So much to do, so many projects, and so little time! Honestly, half the time I feel the same about running a Ministry as Fluttershy felt about being a model! But the other half, I absolutely love it! Of course, I still find the time to create new dresses. And to get my beauty sleep. I think I'd go insane if I didn't... Oh, no no no. A few missed meals never hurt anypony. And it helps me keep my figure.
"Yes. Yes I did hear what happened to Zecora, and I'm as enraged by it as anypony. I've already promised Pinkie Pie any resources my Ministry has to offer to help hers hunt down the brutes responsible and bring them to justice. ...On the plus side, you have to admit, the new poster line is really effective."
Rarity sounded legitimately upset about Zecora, and only thinly pleased about the effectiveness of her propaganda. The name was familiar. Oh yes, the zebra who was Applejack's friend, possibly a friend of all of them. I could see why Rarity would draw the connection.
"...Pinkie Pie? She's always eccentric darling! ...No, not any more than usual... No, Princess Luna, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Strange and Pinkie Pie go hoof-in-hoof. You just learn to accept that about her and love her all the more for it."
I recalled how Twilight Sparkle, in the Vinyl Scratch orb, had commented on everyone covering for Pinkie Pie and her addiction. I was immediately thankful I'd resisted the urge to make more Party-Time Mint-als.
"I will admit, however, that I am getting a bit worried about a few of my other friends. ...Well, I've heard a rumor, just a rumor mind you, that Applejack is having some... trouble within her own Ministry. ...No, I really couldn't say.
"...And Twilight... Have you seen her recently? She's just exhausted! And terribly stressed out. The poor dear has taken on so much responsibility and so much work... Well, you have to admit, other than me of course, Twilight Sparkle is the only one who has really tried to run her Ministry, rather than just tossing ideas at them like horseshoes... And the less said about Rainbow Dash's 'Ministry', the better. ...and with the big move underway; and Spike's started his draconic adolescence, so you just know he's a real saddle-full right now... No, no. But Princess Luna, I really think Twilight Sparkle needs a vacation...
"No, everypony else is fine. At least, they were the last time I saw them. Fluttershy's doing brilliantly. I see her every week... I do wish I could see the others more often. They were my first real friends... my only ones, to be honest. And I miss them all terribly. But there's just always so much to do. I can't remember the last time we were all together... Oh, wait, I can. It was Pinkie Pie's birthday party. No, not this year's. Last year, I think. ...Or was it the year before?
For the first time in the conversation Rarity's voice faltered. I could feel the sadness she was trying to hide. It resonated deeply. Maybe because my heart held a similar ache.
"Oh no, I'm fine. It's just... sometimes it feels like we're pulling apart. And I can't stand to see that happen. I really must do something about it."
I needed my friends. I was trembling from more than just pain as the audio recording drew to a close.
"No, Princess Luna, the pleasure was all mine! Thank you so much for calling!"
• • •
I re-read the entries that had been concealed within the terminal at the lead researcher's desk. (A desk which had held an ashtray, a box of cigars and nearly two dozen bottle caps.)
Bypass spells. According to the research I was seeing, the Ministry of Arcane Sciences had cracked it already, about a month before the end of their world. They had even begun limited use, not for weapons but to create shield screens that would only allow specific materials to pass through.
Red Eye's research in here had been two-fold. First, his scientists had been working to apply a bypass to some sort of weapon effect. The full details had been redacted after the research had been successful. From what little I could read, that was less than a week before I had arrived. I was willing to extend the Steel Ranger's Elder the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn't know. The second line of research was ongoing, and had met with considerably less promising results -- Red Eye was trying to figure out how to trick a Bypass into ignoring something it wasn't designed to ignore.
Xenith had filled a bag full of herbs and chemicals from the supply closet and was trotting back towards me when something outside the window made her freeze in her tracks.
I abandoned the terminal and moved to her side as quickly as my legs and breath would allow. I stared out the window as something huge came out of the red glow of the Fillydelphia Crater.
It was an armored black alicorn, easily three times the size of a normal one, the air about her rippling with power. She flew towards us, leaving swaths of energy in her wake.
"W-w-what is....?" I couldn't speak further. My mouth had gone dry.
"She's been basking in the radiation of the Fillydelphia Crater," Xenith commented. Then explained as if to a child, "The creatures of radiation do not merely heal in its presence. If they absorb enough of it, they grow stronger. More powerful."
Alicorns could become... massive, behemoth super-alicorns? I squeaked in impotent rage. "T-that's not fair!'
I looked up towards the sky, cursing Celestia and Luna in turn. Wasn't it enough that they were magically far more adept than I? That they were smart? Crafty? Fucking telepathic? With shields that only a small number of things could apparently get through? And they could fly?!
And go invisible? Or teleport?
I found enough voice to rasp at the heavens, "What do You want from me!? In Your names, what the fuck do You want!??"
A field of dark blue light wrapped around the enormous window. The glass began to vibrate. I had a sudden image of the abattoir that I had turned the maze of mirrors into.
"Run," I whispered to Xenith.
We turned and fled.
As we dived through the door to the stairwell, I heard that window shatter. And I heard none of the shards hit the ground. I spun and shoved the door closed behind us an eyeblink before the super-alicorn sent hundreds of lethal shards of glass into the door.
When the barrage ended, I lifted myself up and dared a peek through the little window on the door. I watched as the huge black alicorn swept into the room and activated her shield, a bubble of scintillating force expanding around her with enough power to tear into the floor and ceiling, blasting apart desks and chemistry sets. The energy sloughing off the bubble caused nearby terminals to explode in sprays of sparks. I saw the automatic rifle which I'd left behind fall through the broken floor into the level below.
Well, at least I didn't have to worry about destroying the research.
I turned away, terrified, and discovered that I could make myself gallop far faster than my body wanted to let me. It hurt, my chest raged as if I was breathing liquid fire, but I ran.
• • •
The alicorn blasted up through the floor into the hallway. Her size was too big to comfortably move through the space, but it hardly mattered. Her shield just ripped away the walls as she passed near them, chewing up parts of the offices on either side.
The thought flashed through my mind that she might just bring this whole building down on top of the three of us. Her horn blazed with an almost black light. Her shield dropped briefly as she lashed out with dark energies that only crudely resembled black lightning.
I tore around a corner, my body feeling like it was about to explode and then explode again. Xenith was in front of me, moving far more gracefully. The hallway behind us was shredded with a smell of ozone and black licorice.
I followed her up another flight of stairs, screaming out in agony and hating the building for making us climb when the damn monster behind us didn't have to.
The super-alicorn tore through the ceiling, hovering in front of us as we made it to the top. I stumbled and crashed to a stop, realizing with utter loathing that we would have to go back down. Only my body didn't want to move anymore. My body wanted to just give up and die.
I felt Xenith bite into my mane and toss me onto her back.
The giant black alicorn spread her wings and pointed her horn. A point of light flickered in the front of her shield then spiraled to create an opening. I realized with dismay and amazement that even if I had my magic, it would be useless. This alicorn's shield was so powerful even she couldn't cast a spell through it.
Xenith went down, dropping me like a sack of pain. I saw her twitching.
Heart attack spell. She would be permanently damaged or dead within seconds.
I screamed! At the super-alicorn for being so ridiculously powerful and evil and totally unfair! At the Goddessess for allowing such a nightmare to exist and for making me face it and just after I had lost my magic too! At the Fillydelphia Crater for being so damn radioactive!
With a rage-fueled strength beyond what I could actually muster, I wrenched my suffering body off the floor and galloped at the creature which I suddenly realized looked an awful lot like those old pictures of Nightmare Moon. I leapt, jumping partway into the opening of the super-alicorn's shield. The edge cut deeply into my chest, like I was hanging on a curved razor blade. I struggled, cutting my self even worse, my blood poured down both the inside and outside of the shield.
The alicorn at least had the grace to look shocked. I had successfully caused her to drop the spell attacking Xenith's heart.
I couldn't get inside with her. But with a mortally wounded cry, I tossed my head back, pulled open one of my saddlebags, and dumped the contents inside the shield.
Dozens of memory orbs scattered along the bottom of the magical bubble. The alicorn glanced at them and was unimpressed. She turned her attention to me. In a panic, I realized what was about to happen and kicked myself away before the hole in the shield scythed closed. If I had been any slower, the super-alicorn's shield would have cut me in half.
I collapsed, bleeding heavily on the floor. That was it. I was done. Time to sleep now.
But as I passed out, there was a slight smile on my face, despite all the pain. I had saved Xenith. And I had proven that you could trick one of these fucking cunts the same way twice.
The last thing I saw before darkness overwhelmed me was the alicorn floating in her impervious bubble, cut off from every danger except for a few dozen memory orbs. And four balefire eggs.
I never heard the explosion. But Xenith later told me it was... loud, only louder.
• • •
When I awoke, we were in a buck's bathroom. I was propped up in a stall, looking out at a poster of Pinkie Pie (watching you piss forever?). I didn't hurt anywhere near as much as I should, assuming I wasn't simply dead (and really, who would put a Pinkie Pie poster in a bathroom in heaven... or for that matter, in a bathroom anywhere?), which worried me considerably. I felt light-headed and... odd.
I looked down. I was wrapped in healing bandages. Probably three or four medical kit's worth. There were more on the floor next to me, blood-drenched and spent. I had been in here for some time. My mind grudgingly realized I was doped up on painkillers.
This escape plan was going well.
Xenith trotted back into view. "You are an insane pony."
"Thank you."
"I wish I could let you rest some more, but we must go. We are being hunted."
I nodded and tried to get up. My limbs didn't want to co-operate. A moment later, I once again found myself riding the zebra, slung over her back like an old carpet. I blushed with embarrassment and hoped I didn't bleed all over her. I wondered what riding like this would do to the wounds on my breast, and how well the magical bandages had healed my other injuries. My left shoulder no longer hurt, and my right leg felt only mildly sprained.
Xenith picked up my saddlebags with her teeth and then added them across her flanks along with her sack of apothecary supplies. I helped tie it to her securely.
My striped companion crept through the floors swiftly yet cautiously, clearly trying to keep ahead of something. I knew we were being hunted by Stern's slavers. But something about this felt different. My thoughts turned dark. After the super-alicorn, I wasn't ready for another surprise opponent.
"What's after us?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"Winter," Xenith whispered in an ominous tone.
My painkiller-fogged mind fought to make sense of that. "It's summer," I responded blandly.
The zebra snorted. "Red Eye's cyberdog. Winter is tracking our scent."
My mind replayed part of a broadcast from Red Eye that I had found particularly striking: I was lucky, fortunate beyond my deserving, to be blessed with safe places to roam, security from the fiends and horrors of the Equestrian Wasteland, and companionship in the form of my beloved dog, Winter. Oh, the adventures we had.
If he was but a colt at that time, the dog should have passed away naturally from old age. But now I imagined that instead of letting that happen, he'd cybernetically enhanced it, replacing part after part as each failed. It was macabre.
I groaned. I really, really needed to get out of Fillydelphia.
We made it up two flights of stairs without trouble. Three times, Xenith managed to creep past slavers unnoticed even with me on her back. As we passed an open office, I could see the overhang of eves out the window, shadowed in the light of a setting sun that turned the world outside the color of a bloody river. We were almost to the roof.
I heard a low, tinny growl.
I looked back. Behind us, I saw a half-robotic dog stalking towards us. Winter was more machine than animal. His brain was encased in a lightly glowing tank which looked so shockingly like that of a brain-bot that I began to assume it wasn't ponies but pet dogs whose brains were used in those awful things. Winter's forepaws ended in claws that looked like they were made from the clawtips of hellhounds.
Even Xenith didn't want to fight that thing. The zebra bolted, galloping as fast as she could. Winter howled and gave chase, the glow of his brain-case shifting to crimson.
I wished I still had the automatic rifle. Or, for that matter, any weapon at all. Somehow, I didn't think I could strike it down with baleful looks.
We made it to the stairwell marked "Roof Access", the cyberdog nipping at Xenith's hooves. I realized belatedly that the dog could have jumped and started tearing me apart, but it chose not to. We were being corralled.
I turned to warn Xenith. Before I could, we burst out onto the roof. Xenith skidded to a stop, trapped between the Ministry of Morale roof and the cloudy, blood-red sky.
The anchored Pinkie Pie Balloon was still there. But so were two others, with a third closing in. Half a dozen anti-machine rifles were trained in our direction.
With a clear note of sarcasm, Xenith asked, "Still according to plan, right?"
Winter came out behind us and stopped as if guarding the door back.
• • •
I closed my eyes, waiting for the shot. But the sniper ponies were hesitating. Waiting for something. The growl behind us gave Xenith a clue. "Red Eye's coming."
So, the bastard was going to take care of us himself? Fuck that. "Oh, come on!" I yelled up at the giant, inflated Pinkie Pie heads. "Just do it already!"
I was exhausted. The painkillers were wearing off and the pain was beginning to flood back in.
A pillar of golden flame, tinged with balefire green, shot out of the Fillydelphia Crater. The bolt of light reached its apex and spread out wings that flared across the sky like a second sun.
Pyrelight dipped and swooped towards us, burning with an aura of emerald and gold nearly a hundred times her size.
The creatures of radiation do not merely heal in its presence. If they absorb enough, they grow stronger, more powerful.
Sorry, Celestia, Luna... for everything bad I thought!
The incoming Pinkie Pie Balloon erupted in flame just at Pyrelight's passing. The majestic harbinger opened her beak and bright green balefire blasted out, tearing across the roof above us. All three of the Pinkie Pie Balloons ignited, becoming infernos. Bits of burning balloon and slaver flesh rained down on us as the blazing zeppelins began to collapse, sinking towards the amusement park below. I hoped nastily that it was full of slavers surrounding the building.
"Pyrelight!" I cheered, clopping my hooves in applause!
Xenith stared upwards, having lost the very notion of speech.
The cyberdog panicked and fled down the stairwell.
Pyrelight swooped around. I could see the energy she had absorbed was already bleeding off of her, like the scintillating waves that came off the black alicorn. The bird dived, and I thought I could hear the crackling of fire and the sound of slaver screams below.
I was so overjoyed at the turn of events that it took me several minutes to realize that Pyrelight had incinerated what I had hoped to be our ride.
We were still trapped in Fillydelphia.
• • •
Our capture was as ignominious as it was inevitable.
I found myself staring through a haze of red. Not a fault of my own vision, but a property of the room we had been marched into. The air was filled with some sort of odd steam. My already strained lungs pitched a fit as I attempted to breathe it. Red lamps lined the room, diffusing their light to make the air take a sickening scarlet tint.
There was a line on the floor that the well-armed griffins beside us had warned us not to cross. Winter crouched nearby, ready to launch himself at the first to run. With Xenith's skills, I thought it might still be possible to fight our way out of the situation. But the very idea made me want to drop from weariness.
Red Eye trotted in through a door on the opposite wall next to a large, dark screen. He raised a hoof and the griffins flanking us took their leave. I heard them lock and bar the door behind us.
"Littlepip," he said graciously. "Sit, relax. I mean you no harm."
Obviously, the same couldn't be said for us. I was still processing the mere notion that Red Eye would lock himself in a room with us when Xenith charged at him, murder in her eyes.
She slammed against an invisible wall hard enough that she was lucky she didn't break her neck. I stared around and realized suddenly the reason for the odd atmosphere. "You're using the reddened mist to conceal an alicorn shield," I surmised aloud. I was actually slightly impressed. "You must have at least two of the green ones doing their statue thing just behind the walls."
Red Eye beamed at me. (Literally -- in the mist, the line of red light shooting from his cybernetic eye was clearly visible.) "I wanted us to be able to talk freely. Without anypony attacking anypony else." He shot a wry look at the recovering zebra.
"What do you want?" I asked dourly. There was only one reason I could think of for him to spare us. And I didn't like it.
"All I want you to do is something you were going to do anyway," Red Eye said in a tone both casual and infuriatingly confident. "I just want you to do it on my timescale."
Great. My mortal enemy had a quest for me. My life sucked.
"I want you to kill the Goddess."
My jaw hit the floor.
Okay, I did not see that coming. "B... but you serve the Goddess! You... you're Her high-fucking-priest!"
Red Eye scowled slightly, sitting back. "I like to think of us more like... partners. And sadly, the partnership is no longer beneficial to my goals." He looked me over, ignoring Xenith completely. "And after your handling of the Crater Alicorn, I really do think you have what it takes to succeed."
"Do tell." I glowered.
"As I'm sure you've noticed, the Goddess controls Her children. Telepathically. They are not so much individuals as they are extensions of Her will. And they will remain so until She is finally put to rest."
I nodded solemnly.
"There is no point working towards the freedom of all ponies if Unity comes with chains," Red Eye pontificated. "There is no room in the New Equestria for slave masters, and no room for slaves."
Xenith nickered, "Not much room for you then." I smiled, my own sentiment echoing hers.
Red Eye regarded us calmly. "No. No there is not."
Okay, second time he caught me by surprise. "What do you intend to do then? Kill yourself?"
He laughed. Red Eye had a charismatic, likeable laugh. I hated him for that. "No, no. I plan to ascend. Once you have taken care of the Goddess, it will finally be time for me to join Unity myself. But not as one of the rest of you. Somepony will have to take up the tasks that the Princesses and pegasi left to run wild, after all. Somepony will have to regulate the weather, to raise the sun and the moon."
I blinked. "Okay, I've got a new theory. You're a loony." Seriously, the Goddess couldn't manage these things, much less an alicorned earth pony.
Again he laughed, setting my nerves on edge. "Well, then I will fail. But either way, I will be out of your mane. You won't have to worry about me further. And won't that be nice? Crushing two eggs under one hoof?"
I really hated this stallion. "And what about all your work," I argued. Dammit, the one reason I was at all hesitant to take down this monster was because even I could see the good his efforts would eventually bring about. I could... admire what he was building, even if I hated how he was doing it. "What about the schools? The hospitals? Rebuilding an infrastructure that will allow Equestria to pull itself out of this post-apocalyptic pit?!"
Red Eye feigned contemplation. "Oh, dear. Well then, I suppose you'll just have to take my place and see it through."
My jaw was on the floor again. Once more, he had blindsided me. How did he keep doing that?
"You want me to... what?"
Red Eye smiled. "Want you to? Or just expect that you won't let all this just fall apart. Of course, I'm sure you'll try to find a way to accomplish all this without the regrettable horrors of slavery. And, with at least the foundation I've managed in place, you might even succeed." He gave me a gracious bow. "I certainly hope so." Then added in a businesslike tone, "The Goddess is still in Her... home in Maripony."
I realized there was another horseshoe waiting to drop.
"And... so you'll let me go?"
The black-maned cyberpony nodded. "Somewhat implicit in the request." Without even looking at Xenith, he added, "And you can take your new zebra friend with you. The two of you seem to be... effective together. Agree, and she has her freedom."
Xenith stared at me with an unfathomable expression. I knew she wanted her freedom enough to risk her life for it, to kill other slaves for it. Was she asking me to accept? Or was she warning me about deals with devils?
"And if I refuse to kill the Goddess?"
Red Eye frowned. "Well, I would prefer not to resort to threats. But let's just say that by succeeding, you will save the lives of your friends in the tower."
No! I should never have sent them into that place alone! Oh Goddesses, what had I done?
"W-what have you done with Calamity, Velvet Remedy and SteelHooves?" I demanded in a frightened voice. "Are they okay?"
Red Eye's one real eye blinked. "Oh, you mean your assault team at the Fillydelphia Tower station? I sent Stern on ahead with a full squad of her best to give them a warm greeting. I'm sure at least one of them survived."
I swallowed hard, feeling all of Equestria fall out from under me. "I... I want to see them."
Red Eye nodded graciously. He trotted to a button on the wall beneath the large screen. "Stern, report. I have somepony here who wants to see the captives."
The monitor screen lit up. For a moment, all it showed was ruins and blood.
Then a hoof rose up, tapping on the screen. "Hey!" Calamity's smiling face and orange mane came into view. "Ah think this here just turned on!"
I could hear the low grumble of SteelHooves voice, "Calamity, don't mess with it."
"Oh, hold on," Calamity said, looking slightly up. "Hey, Ah can see Li'lpip through this thing now. Heya, kid!"
This was obviously not the response Red Eye had been expecting. I felt a crippling surge of relief and collapsed to the floor.
"oh, an' y'all must be Red Eye. Can't say it's ah pleasure t'... whoa! Y'all are a cyberpony! Ah didn't think those were even real!"
Red Eye finally found his voice. "Calamity, is it? I take it you have killed..."
"Yer welcomin' party? That who ya was expectin? Sorry, but they all can't make it on account of them bein' mostly blown up."
"Mostly?"
"We kept yer griffin gal all safe an' cozy. Trust me, she ain't hardly hurt, and she ain't feelin' a bit o' pain," Calamity said with a mock friendliness that didn't touch the steel glint in his eyes. "Figured things mighta gone a bit south fer our friend Li'lpip, so Ah decided we oughta keep someone fer trade."
• • •
I watched as the drawbridge lowered over the moat. On the other side, through the electrified gate, I could see Velvet Remedy and SteelHooves flanking a thoroughly trussed-up and glowering Stern. Calamity was sitting sniper in an undisclosed location.
I could almost feel the air grow colder when SteelHooves' gaze fell on my striped companion.
Red Eye stood next to me, protected inside an alicorn shield -- the projecting alicorns were hidden in a sewer passage right beneath us yet safely out of Calamity's field of view. "Remember my offer, Littlepip. Kill the Goddess..." he whispered to me, clearly unconcerned that the Goddess' children might hear. (Judging from my experience on the roof of Horseshoe Tower, I strongly suspected they couldn't hear anything at all.) "...and you not only get rid of her, but you get rid of me. And save your friends in the tower."
I blinked then turned to him with a cross stare. "I think we've already established that threat is pretty stupid." I pointed a hoof at my friends waiting for me on the other side of the gate.
Red Eye cocked his head, and for a moment I think he was actually confused.
"Ah. I apologize for the misunderstanding. I don't mean these friends in that tower..." he said, nodding towards the rising white needle of the Fillydelphia Tower. "I mean your friends in Tenpony Tower."
I felt my blood go cold.
"Now, I know that the damn building has already survived one balefire bomb, but do you really think it could survive another?"
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Gladiator Pony – The action point cost for all unarmed attacks performed in S.A.T.S. is reduced by 10%
Quest Perk added: Fillydelphia Survivor – Your vicious fights behind The Wall in the Fillydelphia ruins have left you stronger. Your damage threshold is increased by two and your radiation resistance increases by +3%
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Pineapple
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
can lazy post the entirety of fallout equestria before lyat closes forever
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Scalia > Thomas, IMHO
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CorvusCaw
- Posts: 155
- Joined: Tue Oct 31, 2017 10:39 pm
- Gender: Female
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
There are many Biblical verses Bible verses concerning the drinking of Alcohol. There are many scripture verse warnings dealing with the dangers of alcohol and the excessive drinking of liquor.
Genesis 9:20-27 A ”man of distinction” and the tragic consequences of his drunkenness.
Genesis 19:30-38 Drinking results in Lot’s debauchery of his own daughters.
Leviticus 10:8-11 The Lord commanded Aaron and his sons not to drink either wine or strong drink while rendering service for God.
Numbers 6:3 The vow of the Nazarite excluded drinking wine and strong drink.
Deuteronomy 21:20 "Drinking is one of the attributes of a stubborn, rebellious, and disobedient son."
Judges 13:4, 7, 14 Samson’s mother was expressly commanded by the angel of the Lord not to drink wine or strong drink.
I Samuel 25: 36-38 "Nabal, an evil, drinking man was smitten by the Lord."
II Samuel 11:13 "By the use of strong drink, David led Uriah into a fatal trap."
II Samuel 13:28-29 "Amnon, on a drinking spree, was murdered by the servants of his brother, Absalom."
I Kings 16:8-10 "While Elah, King of Israel, was ”drinking himself drunk,” one of his captains, who had conspired against him, killed him."
I Kings 20:13-21 "While Ben-hadad, King of Syria, and thirty-two other kings were drinking themselves drunk in their pavilions, a small band of Israelites fell upon the Syrians and put them to flight."
Esther 1:5-22 "After a week’s feasting and drinking King Ahasuerus drunkenly tried to subject Vashti, his queen, to the beastly gaze of the inebriated people and princes."
Proverbs 20:1 No wise person will allow himself to be deceived by wine which is a mocker or by strong drink which is raging.
Proverbs 21:17 Drinking leads to poverty.
Proverbs 23:20-21 Winebibbers in poverty.
Proverbs 23:29-30 "Strong drink produces sorrow, woes, contentions, babbling, wounds without cause and redness of eyes."
Proverbs 23:31-35 Look not – drink not.
Proverbs 31:4-5 Officials with the responsibility of human life on their hands should not imbibe.
Ecclesiastes 2:3 "The writer of Ecclesiastes tried strong drink but in the end admitted that this too was vanity. (Eccl. 2:11, 12:8)"
Ecclesiastes 10:17 That nation is blessed whose leaders eat for strength and refrain from drunkenness.
Isaiah 5:11-12 Woe is pronounced on those who give themselves to strong drink.
Isaiah 5:22 Further woe is pronounced upon the drunkards.
Isaiah 22:13-14 Drinking often goes with carnal living and is classified as iniquity.
Isaiah 28:1, 3 A woe is pronounced upon the drunkards of Ephraim who shall be trodden under foot.
Isaiah 28:7 Prophets and priests become incapable of spiritual leadership because of their drinking. (Ezekial 44:21)
Isaiah 56:12 Drinking accompanies foolish optimism and the sinner’s vain hope that his sins will not find him out.
Jeremiah 35:5-8, 14, 19 Rechabites who steadfastly held to total abstinence assured of God’s continued blessings.
Daniel 1:5, 8, 16, 20 Daniel who refused to drink the king’s wine was especially blessed by the Lord.
Daniel 5:1-4 A tragic example of a king who drank and who led his people to do likewise: desecrating the sacred; turning to idolatry.
Hosea 4:11 Strong drink and immorality go hand in hand.
Hosea 7:5 The king by his drinking was not only made sick but became scornful.
Joel 3:3 Young women were sold for the price of a drink.
Amos 4:1 "Dissolute women, oppressors of the poor, call for their drink."
Amos 6:3-6 "The evil, idle rich who were given to imbibing wine were not concerned about the affliction of the poor."
Habakkuk. 2:5 Arrogance is inflamed by drink.
Habakkuk 2:15-16 It is wrong to lead another to drink. Drink leads to shame and humiliation.
Matthew 24:48-51 Drinking is not consistent with alertness. (Luke 12:45-46)
Luke 1:15 Greatness of John the Baptist linked with his total abstinence.
Luke 21:34 Drinking prevents men from being prepared for the judgment day.
Romans 13:13 "All are admonished to walk honestly, not in rioting and drunkenness."
Romans 14:21 Christians are admonished not to drink lest a brother be caused to stumble.
I Corinthians 5:11 Christians forbidden to keep company with drunkards.
I Corinthians 6:10 No drunkard shall inherit the Kingdom of God.
I Corinthians 11:21 The Lord’s Supper no time for drunkenness.
Galatians 5:21 Drunkenness prevents men from inheriting the Kingdom of God.
Ephesians 5:18 Christians commanded not to be drunk with wine but to be filled with the Spirit.
I Timothy 3:3, 8 Church leaders should not be ”given to wine.”
Genesis 9:20-27 A ”man of distinction” and the tragic consequences of his drunkenness.
Genesis 19:30-38 Drinking results in Lot’s debauchery of his own daughters.
Leviticus 10:8-11 The Lord commanded Aaron and his sons not to drink either wine or strong drink while rendering service for God.
Numbers 6:3 The vow of the Nazarite excluded drinking wine and strong drink.
Deuteronomy 21:20 "Drinking is one of the attributes of a stubborn, rebellious, and disobedient son."
Judges 13:4, 7, 14 Samson’s mother was expressly commanded by the angel of the Lord not to drink wine or strong drink.
I Samuel 25: 36-38 "Nabal, an evil, drinking man was smitten by the Lord."
II Samuel 11:13 "By the use of strong drink, David led Uriah into a fatal trap."
II Samuel 13:28-29 "Amnon, on a drinking spree, was murdered by the servants of his brother, Absalom."
I Kings 16:8-10 "While Elah, King of Israel, was ”drinking himself drunk,” one of his captains, who had conspired against him, killed him."
I Kings 20:13-21 "While Ben-hadad, King of Syria, and thirty-two other kings were drinking themselves drunk in their pavilions, a small band of Israelites fell upon the Syrians and put them to flight."
Esther 1:5-22 "After a week’s feasting and drinking King Ahasuerus drunkenly tried to subject Vashti, his queen, to the beastly gaze of the inebriated people and princes."
Proverbs 20:1 No wise person will allow himself to be deceived by wine which is a mocker or by strong drink which is raging.
Proverbs 21:17 Drinking leads to poverty.
Proverbs 23:20-21 Winebibbers in poverty.
Proverbs 23:29-30 "Strong drink produces sorrow, woes, contentions, babbling, wounds without cause and redness of eyes."
Proverbs 23:31-35 Look not – drink not.
Proverbs 31:4-5 Officials with the responsibility of human life on their hands should not imbibe.
Ecclesiastes 2:3 "The writer of Ecclesiastes tried strong drink but in the end admitted that this too was vanity. (Eccl. 2:11, 12:8)"
Ecclesiastes 10:17 That nation is blessed whose leaders eat for strength and refrain from drunkenness.
Isaiah 5:11-12 Woe is pronounced on those who give themselves to strong drink.
Isaiah 5:22 Further woe is pronounced upon the drunkards.
Isaiah 22:13-14 Drinking often goes with carnal living and is classified as iniquity.
Isaiah 28:1, 3 A woe is pronounced upon the drunkards of Ephraim who shall be trodden under foot.
Isaiah 28:7 Prophets and priests become incapable of spiritual leadership because of their drinking. (Ezekial 44:21)
Isaiah 56:12 Drinking accompanies foolish optimism and the sinner’s vain hope that his sins will not find him out.
Jeremiah 35:5-8, 14, 19 Rechabites who steadfastly held to total abstinence assured of God’s continued blessings.
Daniel 1:5, 8, 16, 20 Daniel who refused to drink the king’s wine was especially blessed by the Lord.
Daniel 5:1-4 A tragic example of a king who drank and who led his people to do likewise: desecrating the sacred; turning to idolatry.
Hosea 4:11 Strong drink and immorality go hand in hand.
Hosea 7:5 The king by his drinking was not only made sick but became scornful.
Joel 3:3 Young women were sold for the price of a drink.
Amos 4:1 "Dissolute women, oppressors of the poor, call for their drink."
Amos 6:3-6 "The evil, idle rich who were given to imbibing wine were not concerned about the affliction of the poor."
Habakkuk. 2:5 Arrogance is inflamed by drink.
Habakkuk 2:15-16 It is wrong to lead another to drink. Drink leads to shame and humiliation.
Matthew 24:48-51 Drinking is not consistent with alertness. (Luke 12:45-46)
Luke 1:15 Greatness of John the Baptist linked with his total abstinence.
Luke 21:34 Drinking prevents men from being prepared for the judgment day.
Romans 13:13 "All are admonished to walk honestly, not in rioting and drunkenness."
Romans 14:21 Christians are admonished not to drink lest a brother be caused to stumble.
I Corinthians 5:11 Christians forbidden to keep company with drunkards.
I Corinthians 6:10 No drunkard shall inherit the Kingdom of God.
I Corinthians 11:21 The Lord’s Supper no time for drunkenness.
Galatians 5:21 Drunkenness prevents men from inheriting the Kingdom of God.
Ephesians 5:18 Christians commanded not to be drunk with wine but to be filled with the Spirit.
I Timothy 3:3, 8 Church leaders should not be ”given to wine.”
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Lazy
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Distress Signals by Kkat
"When the walls come tumbling down, when you lose everything you have, you always have family. And your family always has tribe."
Family.
It wasn't a word I'd had much use for, nor a concept I'd felt any connection to.
I had never known my father (a quite uncommon situation for a filly growing up in Stable Two). When my mother had been my age, she had spent a large portion of her time being... well, there were other words I would use if describing other ponies. But this was my mother. And for her, I chose the words "promiscuous" and "inebriated".
Growing up, I did have my mother. But my memories of her were largely of the "sit quietly while the grown ups are talking" variety. However, she did teach me games. And even though I came to realize (even as a blankflank) that she did so more to alleviate her boredom than my own, I cherished each happy memory of playing with her -- every game of boards and strategies and brightly-colored pieces that the Stable had to offer.
But even then, I never really thought of us as "family" in a way that attached special meaning to the word.
Now, through a haze of pain, I realized this was changing. Had changed already, in fact, without my knowing it.
With the painkillers worn off and adrenaline no longer propping up my body, I could feel just how much pain I was in. The bandages had helped and probably spared me from bleeding out through the deep slashes in my chest. However, continuing to push myself while injured had harmed more than just my magic.
But I was with my friends now. There was a feeling of completeness and safety. My body could finally relax and just hurt.
Velvet Remedy had slipped into mother-doctor mode almost at the sight of me. Now that I wasn't mentally sniffing between her hindlegs anymore, I found myself comforted by her fretful ministrations, particularly considering that she did a much better job of mothering me than my actual mother ever had.
In truth, these ponies had become my family. Family in that deeper sense of the word that means finding "home" not from the location you are at but through the people you are with.
...And my family was having an argument.
• • •
"She's a zebra!" SteelHooves exclaimed. He had kept his silence until we were well away from The Wall. But as we had approached the crumbled ruins of Java's Cup, SteelHooves had finally questioned the presence of my new companion. I made the mistake of simply saying she was a friend.
"Yes, she is." I was weary and hurting. My breathing was shallow, and I felt like I was constantly drowning. I wanted a bath to wash off the blood caking my coat, the stinging powder still chewing into my flank and the last of the nasty little biting insects that somehow survived along with me. And I wanted a bed that was at least softer than cement. What I did not want was this argument.
"Who has clearly manipulated you into trusting her," SteelHooves surmised. "You can't trust them."
Xenith had wisely remained silent, simply choosing to follow as we moved away from The Wall and the slave pits of Stern's Fillydelphia. But now, nettled and perhaps feeling bolstered by my assertion of friendship, the zebra retorted:
"The war is long over, and I had no part in it. Just because I have stripes does not make me an enemy combatant any more than that armor makes you a soldier in Nightmare Moon's army."
Brilliant.
"Princess Luna's army," snapped the Steel Ranger who had indeed served in the war two-hundred years over. "Not that your kind has any right to even speak the name!"
He turned to me, "Littlepip, what are your intentions regarding the zebra? Please tell me you don't actually expect her to travel with us."
"Oh heavens no," Velvet Remedy chimed in. "I'm sure she doesn't. After all, it would just be foolish to travel with the sort of creature known for degenerating into mindless, flesh-eating..."
Xenith drew up, staring at the charcoal-coated unicorn with a look of bewilderment bordering on resentment.
"...oh wait, those aren't zebras." Velvet casually finished. "Those are ghouls."
SteelHooves stopped now too, and I was sure that behind his visor he was glaring. Xenith huffed, still confused. In her exotic accent, she slowly asked Velvet, "Are you saying... I look like a ghoul?"
I hung my head. This was going downhill fast.
Velvet Remedy's eyes widened as she realized how Xenith had taken the statement. "No, of course not," she assured the newcomer. Then cryptically mused, "But somepony here sure smells like one."
Xenith sniffed at her own coat. I rolled my eyes. Then, just to be sure, sniffed at my own. And gagged a little. I was rank.
Calamity swooped up to us. He had been waiting for us in front of Java's, Spitfire's Thunder held in his mouth. (Java had apparently been -- based on the large sign collapsed over the door -- a milk-colored stallion whose mane was a wavy light brown with dark brown streaks and whose cutie mark was a steaming cup of what I hoped were coffee beans.) But when we stopped moving forward, he decided to close the gap himself.
He landed next to me, slipping the magically-enhanced anti-machine rifle into a newly-fashioned holster on his battle saddle, and offered Xenith a hoof and a smile. "Well howdy!"
I wanted to kiss him. (Which was not a desire I normally associated with bucks.)
Xenith looked hesitant. She reached out a hoof tentatively, and then shrank back, wide-eyed, as Calamity took it in both his forehooves and shook vigorously. "Pleased t' meetcha. Ah'm Calamity." Her foreleg was still shaking after he let go. "Welcome t' the team."
"That is it?" she asked cautiously, still looking at Calamity as if she'd never seen a pegasus before. (Which, I realized suddenly, was probably the case.)
"Aw shucks," Calamity said, still grinning. "Ah saw y'all through the scope. Clearly, Li'lpip here trusts ya. An' if she trusts ya, that's good 'nuff fer me."
"Yes," Velvet said in a drawling yet lady-like sigh. "Because Littlepip's judgment has been Celestia Tier recently." She was looking over my injuries with growing dismay.
"Okay, okay! Yes, it was a stupid plan! I'm sorry." I looked to my friends desperately. "I knew it was going to be bad in there, and I didn't want to put any of you through that. I know I should have trusted you to handle yourselves, and that we should have stayed together. We're stronger together..." I'm pathetic without you.
I collapsed to my knees, suddenly overcome with fatigue.
Velvet Remedy's horn began to glow as she waved everyone else to be quiet and stand back. A moment later, my unicorn friend gasped. "By the Goddesses! Littlepip... what happened to you in there?"
• • •
Velvet Remedy knelt next to me as I stretched out on a mattress in what had once been a child's bedroom. We had invaded a small apartment building that had once shared a Fillydelphia city block with Java and his cups. I could see the others in the next room. Calamity was sorting through the small items he had scavenged from the apartment. Xenith was cooking. SteelHooves was glowering.
"Ah gotta wonder why they even bothered?" Calamity mused as he stared at the boards which he had pried from across the door an hour ago. They now served as wood for a cookfire. "Ain't like anypony who's determined and capable 'nuff t' brave inner-city ruins is gonna be stopped by a couple planks o' wood. Why bother boardin' up the door in the first place?
Xenith had found some cooking pots and was brewing something sweet-smelling over the fire. Several other pots sat around her, each waiting for a turn under the flames. I marveled at our good fortune. Ever since I'd left Homage, I had bemoaned our lack of a skilled chef.
I winced. What I wouldn't give to see her right now. Instead, she was in mortal peril, and I... I felt myself flush with angry guilt that I wasn't doing something to help her right that instant. I cursed Red Eye. "Why did he have to go after Homage?"
"Ah don't figure he did," Calamity suggested from the other room. "I reckon he's aimin' at DJ Pon3. Buck's been broadcastin' good things 'bout ya fer a while now, so's that prob'ly gets him chalked up as a friend that Red Eye figures you'd want t' keep from harm."
"Assuming he hasn't simply surmised that you want to keep every soul from harm," SteelHooves added grimly. "And that you will go to absurd and dangerous lengths to do so."
I felt the urge to remind him that it was a Steel Ranger Elder who pitched the plan, but I bit it back. SteelHooves had never suggested or pressured me to go along with the solo mission, merely supported me when I made the decision to. Considering the tones of his previous conversation with Elder Blueberry Sabre, I suspected SteelHooves would have just as swiftly backed me if my decision had involved telling her to sit on my horn and spin.
I looked from SteelHooves to Calamity, again struck by the difference between them when it came to support. Calamity was loyal. SteelHooves was... obedient. Not necessarily to me, but to whomever he accepted as in charge. He was a soldier buck even now.
Velvet Remedy's glowing horn passed over me once more. She was making sure she had found every injury. As I had expected, my broken rib and punctured lung had drawn the most reaction from her (including a whole host of dark looks at Xenith that SteelHooves couldn't match). But she commended the zebra on not feeding me any healing potions, voicing confidence in her mending spells.
She gasped as she started to pass her horn over my tail. "Littlepip!" She leaned close, her voice scandalized and sympathetic. "How did you get wounded there?"
"That wasn't me," Xenith's voice sounded from the other room.
"What?" Calamity looked up tensely. "Who hurt Li'lpip where now?" I buried my face in my forehooves, feeling my cheeks redden with embarrassment.
"Never you mind," Velvet told the pegasus sternly as she opened her saddleboxes and floated out an array of medical supplies. Calamity's scavenging had restocked us well in that regard.
It didn't help that my worry over Homage had brought with it half-formed daydreams of the wonderful grey unicorn kissing that very wound to make it better.
Gracefully returning us to the earlier conversation, Velvet Remedy suggested, "I know you are worried about Homage, but please try not to let it eat at you. Remember, so long as Red Eye doesn't act on his threat, he has something to threaten you with. Once he does, all he has is an angry Littlepip. And if he's half as smart as you make him out to be, then he's plenty bright enough to know he doesn't want that."
I bit my lower lip.
Calamity stood up, shaking his head. "Ah hate t' be the voice o' worry, but..." The pegasus paused uncomfortably, brushing a hoof over his orange mane. "Well, Ah figure if he put that megaspell at Tenpony Tower, he musta done so b'fore he hatched his plan t' use ya. So the only thing keepin' him from using it is that deal o' ya."
I frowned. "So... do you think he'll set it off the moment he knows the Goddess is dead?" I hadn't even considered that. "That is, if I do that?"
Calamity nudged his hat. "Ah... don't rightly know. But DJ Pon3 is a dissentin' voice with a huge audience." Calamity's frown deepened. "Most dictatorships Ah know of tend t' go hell-an'-highwater t' either discredit or destroy opposin' voices like that."
I almost asked how many dictatorships Calamity knew of. But the words died on my lips as a memory floated to the surface of my mind:
Don'tcha believe 'em, Calamity had once told me. The Enclave has a vested interest in makin' anypony who bucks their ideals inta a monster.
Instead I nodded, trying to give him a supportive look.
"Stern cuts out the tongues of any who speak ill of Red Eye," Xenith reminded me, putting a little extra loathing into the griffin's name. "I spent several years speaking nothing so that I might keep mine." She added, "It is good to finally use it freely again."
SteelHooves grunted. "Now that we're all together, I don't see why we don't just call his bluff. Fly in and level his operation. Take him out."
I sighed deeply. "First, because taking him out wouldn't be that easy. Elder Blueberry Sabre was right about that. He's always protected, and he can get out faster than we can get to him..."
What I didn't say was that I wasn't sure I wanted to flatten his operation. In fact, I was sure that I didn't want to destroy the work he was doing. I wanted to free all the slaves. But that wasn't the same thing. Was it?
Dammit! It was easier to know my moral stance before I discovered that the evil fucker was also, as best I could see, right. He was building a better future... or, at least, parts of one. And he was sacrificing everything for it, from his own home to your freedom.
I recalled a conversation with Watcher regarding how, without what he called "the spark", the virtues he valued could become twisted, lost parodies of themselves. I had found another in Red Eye: Generosity. Even generosity could wander down twisted, dark paths... especially when what you are giving away shouldn't be yours to give.
SteelHooves nickered. "You don't actually believe Red Eye has a megaspell, do you?"
I grimaced.
"An undetonated balefire bomb? When would he have acquired something like that?" SteelHooves questioned. "Where? It's not like you can stumble over something like that just laying around."
Velvet Remedy, Calamity and I all exchanged looks.
"Oh no..." SteelHooves groaned. "What did you three do?"
The building was silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the bubbling of the cookpot, for several long minutes in the wake of our explanation.
"You gave a balefire bomb over to New Appleloosa?" SteelHooves exploded, pacing in his heavy armor, his metal-sheathed tail flicking in emphasis with each word. "A town notorious for trading with Red Eye's slavers?"
"Ayep."
"Which one of you idiots came up with that idea?" SteelHooves demanded.
I silently tore through my memories. I remembered being concerned about sending the freed slaves back to New Appleloosa. Stunningly, I couldn't recall having the same concerns about giving them a megaspell.
Calamity raised his hoof, a chagrinned expression on his face.
"This is..." Xenith asked, "...why they call you 'Calamity', yes?"
Velvet Remedy moved to sit by Calamity's side.
SteelHooves was fuming. "You do realize that Red Eye is the only reason there even is a New Appleloosa, right?" His visor turned towards us and found only blank expressions. "That place was a small town dying in the dust before Red Eye pranced in and gave them a water talisman. You've got to figure they owe him!"
Calamity shook his head, genuinely surprised. "Sorry, pardner, but that's a new one on me." I, however, merely groaned, putting my hooves over my eyes.
I saw the bounty of our Stable shared, the water talisman given to a struggling town which now knows the joy of clean and pure water.
Homage was going to die, and it was my fault.
• • •
My PipBuck was clicking at me, not letting me ignore that the water I was bathing in was radioactive. Velvet Remedy had a dose of RadAway sitting nearby for me to consume as soon as I got out of the grossly-stained tub. Pure water was a rare treat in the wasteland; even those who had it would not think to squander it on baths. Not unless they lived someplace with a water talisman like Tenpony Tower. And in the Fillydelphia Ruins, all the water to be found was irradiated.
The clicking of my PipBuck reminded me that my weeks in the Equestrian Wasteland had been, in many ways, blessed. I had avoided some of the more repulsive hardships that many ponies faced every day. I had never been reduced to drinking radioactive water from the bowl of a toilet.
There wasn't much of a wall left between this apartment's bathroom and the living room, so I was effectively bathing in front of them. Xenith was still tending her boiling pots. Velvet Remedy moved between helping me scrub places that I normally called on my magic to reach and watching Calamity as he tinkered with broken radios he had found in the other apartments, rebuilding one with parts cannibalized from the others. SteelHooves stood guard near the door.
The radio Calamity had been rebuilding flared to life.
"Yea-haw! Welcome, ponies of Fillydelphia! This is DJ Pon3 beaming a light into even the darkest parts of the Equestrian Wasteland! You can't stop the signal, baby! And thanks to that kid from Stable Two, the message is reaching even the souls trapped in that Celestia-forsaken hellhole. Looks like our plucky Stable-Dweller galloped into the heart of Red Eye's slavery operation and gave the old bastard a big black eye... in the form of losing nearly half his dirigibles and a small army's worth of his slavers. Not t' mention annihilating the Crater Boss. And she even took Red Eye's right hoof griffin, Stern, down a peg. Aaaaand that's not all! Our little Wasteland Heroine, our Bringer of Light, bucked right through the wall that Red Eye had built around Fillydelphia's airwaves, bringing my humble message into the one place I could never reach before! Thank you, Stable Dweller!"
I sunk deeper into the bath and moaned. The elation I felt at hearing Homage's voice (disguised as it was) in this horrible place battled the humiliation and dismay at hearing my royal fuck-up described as a brilliant victory. I did not earn this.
"If you should happen to see our Light Bringer, give her a big thanks! She'll be easy to recognize, should she keep in the company of the zebra slave she rescued as icing on the cupcake in her latest escapade. And for the rest of you still toiling away in Fillydelphia, our hearts go out to you, and your plight has not been forgotten. Plus, I offer these small words of hope: knowing our Light Bringer, I don't think she's done with Red Eye yet!"
Xenith stared at the little radio, blinking slowly. "How does he know so much?" We had walked across the moat and outside The Wall less than three hours ago.
The zebra looked at my companions, "And why does he not give you the credit you deserve? Much of the victory was yours. As was our escape, for which I am most thankful."
Calamity chuckled. "Aw, shucks. T'weren't nothin'."
Velvet Remedy purred, "Because we asked... DJ Pon3 not to mention us. Littlepip here should get all the credit."
I groaned. It was a conspiracy.
I started to get up and say something, but Velvet Remedy put a hoof to my muzzle, then whispered into my ear, "Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about that 'barn door' comment." She smiled as I collapsed with a splash under the weight of my embarrassment.
DJ Pon3's voice continued bringing news and advice to the ponies of the Equestrian Wasteland. I felt a chill as DJ Pon3 talked openly with us, having no idea she was in mortal danger.
"Warning to all those traveling central Equestria. Keep your hooves away from the areas surrounding Ponyville. I'm getting reports of fires along the back end of the Everfree Forest. They seem to be spreading slowly, but the advancing flames and smoke are pushing many of the forest's unpleasant inhabitants towards the Ponyville side of that nightmare zone, and at least a couple monsters have actually wandered their way into the old town itself. Fortunately, the only ponies living in that area are raiders. So, to the monsters, I say bon appetite!"
"Well, if it ain't one thing, 'tis another," Calamity neighed, pointing out that Splendid Valley was beyond Ponyville in the opposite direction. Fortunately, we would be crossing the area well above ground level, so we should be able to fly clear of any trouble.
"Unless, o' course, the critters wanderin' out o' that place include manticores or the like."
Knowing my luck, and the Equestrian Wasteland's maliciousness, they would be angry dragons.
"Well, it's another hard day in this Equestrian Wasteland, but I've got the news and the music to get you through. So say bye-bye to stupid static, and hello to magnificent music! This has been your host, DJ Pon3..."
The voice of Homage's broadcast persona gave way to one of the newer songs on DJ Pon3's playlist. Something from a record I had rescued out of Stable Twenty-Nine.
"Do you dream...?"
• • •
I felt immensely better after the bath. As Velvet Remedy wove her horn about my broken body, mending my rib and lung with her beautiful magic, I began to drift to sleep.
SteelHooves walked in. "Littlepip, can we talk? About the zebra."
I released a long-suffering sigh. This again? Lamely pretending to mishear, I replied. "Candy Hawk? Sorry, don't think I've heard of her."
"Funny," SteelHooves said dryly. "Littlepip, I need to talk to you."
"You need to go to the zoo? Fine. Need the four of us to come with you?" I put a little emphasis on the number four, only to realize that, with Pyrelight, it should have been five. Where was that magnificent bird anyway?
Snickering softly, Velvet Remedy stood up and trotted over to the Steel Ranger, head down. She pressed against him, wrapping him with a telekinetic field of her own, reducing the massive weight of his armor so that she could shove him out the door. "Sorry, SteelHooves. Too busy saving Equestria today. All prejudice has to be rescheduled. Is next month good for you?"
SteelHooves nickered with a stomp. "You might accept having one of those traveling with you, but even if I did, there is no way the Steel Rangers will let her trot into their citadel and live." He looked at me over Velvet's scarlet-and-gold streaked white mane. "Or am I wrong that you have further business there?"
I buried my face as I realized the ghoul stallion had a point. Stable-Tec's old headquarters was my first intended stop. I had some things to... discuss with Elder Blueberry Sabre. But that wasn't someplace I could take Xenith. I'd have more luck walking into the Steel Ranger's citadel with an alicorn in tow and trying to convince them she was friendly.
Velvet Remedy had him all the way through the doorway when I finally said, "SteelHooves, I have welcomed Xenith to join us. She's here as long as she wants to be. If that's a problem for you, then you are free to be elsewhere." I stared at him with what I hoped was a gentle expression. "Remember, Applejack herself offered her hooves in friendship to a zebra..."
The response I got back was an unexpected growl. "Yes. And if you only knew how that ended, you wouldn't speak of it!"
Wow. Minefield. "Okay... but somehow I've become the leader of this merry band of ponies, and I've decided to give her the chance. If you want to stay with us, you will too. I won't have Xenith mysteriously disappearing when my back is turned..."
Velvet Remedy gasped sharply at my insinuation. She didn't know the patterns of behavior I had seen in Applesnack's memories and looked appalled that I could suggest one of us capable of such things. I envied her innocence. SteelHooves himself was silenced.
"...So long as you are with us, you will love and tolerate the shit out of her. Consider that an order." I stared at him, giving him one chance.
"That said," I added reluctantly, "You are absolutely right about the Steel Rangers. I won't be bringing her with us into the Stable-Tec building. Which... ugh... means we'll have to split up again. If only briefly."
SteelHooves stood there for a moment, then gave a rigid nod. As he turned to trot away, he nearly ran into Xenith, who was trotting up with a small, covered cookpot hanging from her mouth. They stared at each other awkwardly, then danced about each other. Velvet Remedy backed up, letting Xenith through the doorway, then closed it behind her.
Xenith lowered her neck, placing the pot on the floor. "Once again, it would seem that I am the subject of an argument."
"You were the subject of an argument," Velvet Remedy corrected gently.
"Is that not what I said?" the zebra asked, perplexed. I covered a snicker with a hoof.
Velvet Remedy gave up with a roll of her eyes. "And what is that?" she asked, pointing at the cookpot with a hoof. Her ears tilted back. "Please tell me there is no meat in that."
Xenith looked quite surprised. "Of course not. Zebras are vegetarians... as I thought were ponies. Are you not?"
I could see the relief wash over Velvet Remedy as a look of joy broke over her face. "Yes! Yes we are! Thank Celestia... finally!" She slid up to Xenith, wrapping a foreleg around her neck, seemingly oblivious to the way Xenith suddenly tensed. "Oh, we are going to be the best of friends, you and I."
Velvet Remedy backed up, looking over Xenith. "And Littlepip isn't the only one in need of medical attention." The mother-doctor side of Velvet was instantly back in control as she pulled the top mattress off a set of bunk beds and insistently guided Xenith onto it.
But the nudge to lie down was the final straw. Xenith jumped away, spinning and knocking back Velvet Remedy's nudging hoof with enough force to send Velvet stumbling back with a tear in her eye. "I do not like to be touched!" the zebra spat.
Velvet Remedy blinked, falling onto her haunches, holding her bruised forehoof against her breast. I felt like I was frozen. Part of me needed to jump between them, to do something. But the situation had changed so rapidly my brain was still catching up.
"Oh." Velvet blinked. Her eyes widened. "OH!" She stared back at the tense zebra mare with an expression flooding with compassion. "oh, Xenith... I'm so sorry!"
I had not told anypony what Number Four had told me about Xenith's abuse; I did not feel I had the right. Velvet Remedy didn't need me to; she had figured it out for herself. Not the details, thank the Goddesses, but enough.
Gingerly putting her sore hoof down and standing, Velvet Remedy apologized again. But with that apology came insistence, "I will not touch you casually without permission. That was wrong of me. But I am a medical pony, and I will need to touch you to treat your physical wounds."
"I can do that well enough on my own," Xenith nickered.
Velvet nodded. "I am sure you can. But I can do it better." There was no boast. And after Velvet had been able to treat my rib and lung, there was no question that she was right.
"You deserve a lot better treatment than you've been getting. From others in the extreme, but also from yourself. Let me give you the level of care you need" Velvet whinnied. "At least, to the best of my ability."
Xenith neighed. "I came in here to deliver a gift for the little one, not to be prodded and treated by a medical pony."
They both turned to look at me. I was half tempted to pretend I couldn't hear them again. Ugh. Our family had clearly grown big enough that somepony needed to lay ground rules. But why should it fall to me? Considering my whole lack-of-family experience, wasn't I the least qualified?
"Xenith," I said gently, "In this group, we have to trust each other with our lives every day. We care for each other, and each one of us uses our talents to help all of us." I stopped as I recognized my line of thought was wandering. Re-adjusted. "You are very welcome here, and I do hope you stay with us. But being a part of this group will call for some sacrifices. You told me that I was responsible for you now. That includes making sure you are properly cared for, and this is how I choose to do that -- by having Velvet Remedy care for you like she cares for the rest of us." I looked at the zebra, adding, "Unless you choose to release me from my responsibilities."
Xenith's eyes narrowed. But slowly, she laid down on the mattress. "No, I do not, little pony."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Velvet Remedy moved carefully towards the zebra. She stopped as she passed the small cookpot still resting on the floor. She sniffed at it. "Xenith, what is this gift?"
"It is a restorative brew," Xenith told us. "It will replenish and heal your horn of the magics you overtaxed in our rescue."
I blinked. On one hoof, this was extremely welcome news. The last time I had burned out, it had taken days to recover. With Red Eye's threat hanging over Homage, I couldn't afford to be ineffective that long. On the other hoof, I couldn't help but question what a zebra could know of unicorn magics, much less remedies for uniquely unicorn ailments.
"I know many of the ancient mystical recipes. Ones to cure, to enhance and to harm," Xenith told us. "If I have the right ingredients, I can brew potions that will permanently alter and strengthen you, making you better fit for the fight ahead."
Alter? I didn't think I wanted to be altered.
"This is not such a potion, but I have what is necessary to craft one of these elixirs -- one which will strengthen your bones such that they will be much harder to break. I will brew this for you... if you allow me to."
Velvet Remedy looked skeptical. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Nor this gift, for that matter." Before either of us could protest, Velvet reminded me, "Littlepip has had some bad experiences with zebra 'medicine' before. She is particularly susceptible to their dangers."
Xenith looked between us. "I would not offer an addictive draught, nor give a cup too full." The zebra frowned at Velvet then turned to me, "You just said that here you allow each other to share their talents. Will you not let me share this one with you?"
Velvet nickered at the way Xenith used my own argument so swiftly. The zebra cocked her head. "You have seen Red Eye, have you not? That pony has augmented himself with machines and technology. If the little one truly chooses for him to be her mortal enemy, then should she not take advantage of the gifts I offer her? If Red Eye is also my enemy, should I not offer them?"
My answer was to get up, walk to the cookpot and lift away the lid. The brew inside smelled sweetly spicy, the steam that rushed out cleared my sinuses. With only the slightest hesitation, I began to drink.
• • •
My magic had been completely spent. After drinking Xenith's potion, and a night of rest, I still couldn't lift the now-empty cookpot. But I believed I could feel the stirrings of my magic. And I knew one test which called for only the tiniest spark of focus and power.
I laid one of the memory orbs on the apartment floor. I had sacrificed all save for the two I had taken from the safes in my battle with the super-alicorn. But those two had been put in the other saddlebag. I laid down, leaning forward and concentrating as I touched my horn to the orb...
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
Flashes of light burst across the night -- scores of cameras capturing the moment for a mob of news-ponies and paparazzi. They mixed with a throng of ponies shouting protests and holding signs in their mouths. My host was standing on a set of marbled steps, looking down on them and watching a quartet of armored police ponies push their way through.
I was encased in armor, but unlike my experience in the mind of Applesnack, this armor did not feel heavy or claustrophobic. I could, in fact, barely feel it at all. The limited vision, the Eyes-Forward Sparkle that played behind the visor and the smell of trapped pony sweat were the swiftest indications of how I was clad. (A very nice scent of mare-sweat, I could not help myself from thinking.) With an unpleasant shock, I realized I could feel my wings. I was in a pegasus pony.
To each side of me stood more pegasi wearing the sleek, black carapace armor I had come to associate with the Enclave.
As the police ponies broke through the front of the crowd below and started up the steps, I could see they were escorting a zebra, bound in chains and encircled by the armored ponies.
One of them stepped forward, speaking to somepony just behind me. "We caught her in Ironshod Firearms, red-hoofed, trying to steal the schematics for the anti-machine rifle."
The zebra protested her mistreatment. "I haven't broken any rule; I was invited there you fool!" Her exotic accent was like Xenith's, and I recognized the odd rhyming that seemed to flow in all her speech. Lowering her voice loudly, Zecora asked the lead pony, "So are you always such a tool?"
"I knew it!" cried an equally familiar voice from behind me. The pink party pony advanced into view, glaring daggers at the zebra. "And to think I let you trick us into trusting you! You... you trickster!"
Zecora looked hurt. Pinkie Pie didn't relent, breaking into furious sing-song. "She's an evil enchantress and she does evil dances..."
"Pinkie Pie, you have me wrong. I am not like your foalish song."
"Don't even try to entrance me, Zecora. I... Never again." Pinkie Pie turned from her, scowling. It was the first time I had really seen the Mare of the Ministry of Morale angry, and it was terrifying.
In a low voice, she grumbled, "I hope you really like rocks!"
Pinkie Pie looked up at me, then jabbed a hoof towards two of the armored pegasi on my right. "You and you, help escort my old friend..." Pinkie Pie hissed the words between clenched teeth, "...to the convoy. Zecora will be spending the rest of her life as a guest of Shattered Hoof. Tell them that I want all of that zebra's memories. And don't. Be. Too. Gentle."
The two pegasi on my right rushed to obey. Pinkie Pie pointed her hoof at me. "You, with me."
The pink earth pony stomped back up the steps and into what I assumed was a Ministry building. My host turned and trotted after her, following behind Pinkie Pie as she crossed the darkened, spacious lobby towards the elevators. Under her breath, Pinkie Pie continued to sing venomously, "...she'll mix up an evil brew, and swallow you up in a big, tasty stew!..."
She stopped singing in the elevator. Which was good, since the song would have clashed unpleasantly with the lullaby version of March of the Parasprites that was playing inside the lift. Pinkie Pie turned and pushed all the buttons simultaneous with her rump.
The elevator took us directly to a large office with a huge plate-glass window that looked out over... Canterlot.
Pinkie Pie strode dangerously into the middle of the room, then turned, fixing me with the sort of malevolent expression that made me think she might carve me up and bake me into a cupcake. Then in a magical instant, she broke into a huge smile that seemed to light up the room. She waved a hoof in a sweeping bow, her voice bursting with joy: "ACTING!"
The aging pink earth pony collapsed onto the floor in a fit of giggles. "Best! Prank! Ever!"
My host humphed and trotted over to the window, looking down below. The Eyes-Forward Sparkle started identifying ponies and wagons in the street below. The convoy carrying Zecora to Shattered Hoof was already rolling out under a light guard supplemented by the two pegasi in magically-powered armor.
I felt myself lift the visor. In the window, my reflected face was blue, with magenta eyes and a shock of rainbow-colored hair matted between them. Pinkie Pie's reflection appeared on the window next to me. "Zecora's gonna be all right," she asked, a note of true concern in her voice. "Won't she Dashie?"
I saw and felt my host nod. "She's been with the best trainers the Ministry of Awesome has. I wouldn't let this move forward if it were otherwise."
Pinkie Pie nodded and turned her stare to the convoy below. It was already two blocks away. Pinkie Pie paused, lifting her left forehoof and wiggling it. "Huh."
Rainbow Dash ignored this, eyes narrowing. "Extraction by traitorous zebra sympathizers in three..."
"Two!" Pinkie Pie looked back down, excited. "Ooooh, Zecora's gonna make such a good spy!"
"One..."
There was a flash down below as the first wagon in the prisoner convoy exploded. Dark figures rushed in from all sides amidst flashes of muzzle-fire.
Rainbow Dash pushed down the visor. "And here. We. Go."
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
"When the walls come tumbling down, when you lose everything you have, you always have family. And your family always has tribe."
Family.
It wasn't a word I'd had much use for, nor a concept I'd felt any connection to.
I had never known my father (a quite uncommon situation for a filly growing up in Stable Two). When my mother had been my age, she had spent a large portion of her time being... well, there were other words I would use if describing other ponies. But this was my mother. And for her, I chose the words "promiscuous" and "inebriated".
Growing up, I did have my mother. But my memories of her were largely of the "sit quietly while the grown ups are talking" variety. However, she did teach me games. And even though I came to realize (even as a blankflank) that she did so more to alleviate her boredom than my own, I cherished each happy memory of playing with her -- every game of boards and strategies and brightly-colored pieces that the Stable had to offer.
But even then, I never really thought of us as "family" in a way that attached special meaning to the word.
Now, through a haze of pain, I realized this was changing. Had changed already, in fact, without my knowing it.
With the painkillers worn off and adrenaline no longer propping up my body, I could feel just how much pain I was in. The bandages had helped and probably spared me from bleeding out through the deep slashes in my chest. However, continuing to push myself while injured had harmed more than just my magic.
But I was with my friends now. There was a feeling of completeness and safety. My body could finally relax and just hurt.
Velvet Remedy had slipped into mother-doctor mode almost at the sight of me. Now that I wasn't mentally sniffing between her hindlegs anymore, I found myself comforted by her fretful ministrations, particularly considering that she did a much better job of mothering me than my actual mother ever had.
In truth, these ponies had become my family. Family in that deeper sense of the word that means finding "home" not from the location you are at but through the people you are with.
...And my family was having an argument.
• • •
"She's a zebra!" SteelHooves exclaimed. He had kept his silence until we were well away from The Wall. But as we had approached the crumbled ruins of Java's Cup, SteelHooves had finally questioned the presence of my new companion. I made the mistake of simply saying she was a friend.
"Yes, she is." I was weary and hurting. My breathing was shallow, and I felt like I was constantly drowning. I wanted a bath to wash off the blood caking my coat, the stinging powder still chewing into my flank and the last of the nasty little biting insects that somehow survived along with me. And I wanted a bed that was at least softer than cement. What I did not want was this argument.
"Who has clearly manipulated you into trusting her," SteelHooves surmised. "You can't trust them."
Xenith had wisely remained silent, simply choosing to follow as we moved away from The Wall and the slave pits of Stern's Fillydelphia. But now, nettled and perhaps feeling bolstered by my assertion of friendship, the zebra retorted:
"The war is long over, and I had no part in it. Just because I have stripes does not make me an enemy combatant any more than that armor makes you a soldier in Nightmare Moon's army."
Brilliant.
"Princess Luna's army," snapped the Steel Ranger who had indeed served in the war two-hundred years over. "Not that your kind has any right to even speak the name!"
He turned to me, "Littlepip, what are your intentions regarding the zebra? Please tell me you don't actually expect her to travel with us."
"Oh heavens no," Velvet Remedy chimed in. "I'm sure she doesn't. After all, it would just be foolish to travel with the sort of creature known for degenerating into mindless, flesh-eating..."
Xenith drew up, staring at the charcoal-coated unicorn with a look of bewilderment bordering on resentment.
"...oh wait, those aren't zebras." Velvet casually finished. "Those are ghouls."
SteelHooves stopped now too, and I was sure that behind his visor he was glaring. Xenith huffed, still confused. In her exotic accent, she slowly asked Velvet, "Are you saying... I look like a ghoul?"
I hung my head. This was going downhill fast.
Velvet Remedy's eyes widened as she realized how Xenith had taken the statement. "No, of course not," she assured the newcomer. Then cryptically mused, "But somepony here sure smells like one."
Xenith sniffed at her own coat. I rolled my eyes. Then, just to be sure, sniffed at my own. And gagged a little. I was rank.
Calamity swooped up to us. He had been waiting for us in front of Java's, Spitfire's Thunder held in his mouth. (Java had apparently been -- based on the large sign collapsed over the door -- a milk-colored stallion whose mane was a wavy light brown with dark brown streaks and whose cutie mark was a steaming cup of what I hoped were coffee beans.) But when we stopped moving forward, he decided to close the gap himself.
He landed next to me, slipping the magically-enhanced anti-machine rifle into a newly-fashioned holster on his battle saddle, and offered Xenith a hoof and a smile. "Well howdy!"
I wanted to kiss him. (Which was not a desire I normally associated with bucks.)
Xenith looked hesitant. She reached out a hoof tentatively, and then shrank back, wide-eyed, as Calamity took it in both his forehooves and shook vigorously. "Pleased t' meetcha. Ah'm Calamity." Her foreleg was still shaking after he let go. "Welcome t' the team."
"That is it?" she asked cautiously, still looking at Calamity as if she'd never seen a pegasus before. (Which, I realized suddenly, was probably the case.)
"Aw shucks," Calamity said, still grinning. "Ah saw y'all through the scope. Clearly, Li'lpip here trusts ya. An' if she trusts ya, that's good 'nuff fer me."
"Yes," Velvet said in a drawling yet lady-like sigh. "Because Littlepip's judgment has been Celestia Tier recently." She was looking over my injuries with growing dismay.
"Okay, okay! Yes, it was a stupid plan! I'm sorry." I looked to my friends desperately. "I knew it was going to be bad in there, and I didn't want to put any of you through that. I know I should have trusted you to handle yourselves, and that we should have stayed together. We're stronger together..." I'm pathetic without you.
I collapsed to my knees, suddenly overcome with fatigue.
Velvet Remedy's horn began to glow as she waved everyone else to be quiet and stand back. A moment later, my unicorn friend gasped. "By the Goddesses! Littlepip... what happened to you in there?"
• • •
Velvet Remedy knelt next to me as I stretched out on a mattress in what had once been a child's bedroom. We had invaded a small apartment building that had once shared a Fillydelphia city block with Java and his cups. I could see the others in the next room. Calamity was sorting through the small items he had scavenged from the apartment. Xenith was cooking. SteelHooves was glowering.
"Ah gotta wonder why they even bothered?" Calamity mused as he stared at the boards which he had pried from across the door an hour ago. They now served as wood for a cookfire. "Ain't like anypony who's determined and capable 'nuff t' brave inner-city ruins is gonna be stopped by a couple planks o' wood. Why bother boardin' up the door in the first place?
Xenith had found some cooking pots and was brewing something sweet-smelling over the fire. Several other pots sat around her, each waiting for a turn under the flames. I marveled at our good fortune. Ever since I'd left Homage, I had bemoaned our lack of a skilled chef.
I winced. What I wouldn't give to see her right now. Instead, she was in mortal peril, and I... I felt myself flush with angry guilt that I wasn't doing something to help her right that instant. I cursed Red Eye. "Why did he have to go after Homage?"
"Ah don't figure he did," Calamity suggested from the other room. "I reckon he's aimin' at DJ Pon3. Buck's been broadcastin' good things 'bout ya fer a while now, so's that prob'ly gets him chalked up as a friend that Red Eye figures you'd want t' keep from harm."
"Assuming he hasn't simply surmised that you want to keep every soul from harm," SteelHooves added grimly. "And that you will go to absurd and dangerous lengths to do so."
I felt the urge to remind him that it was a Steel Ranger Elder who pitched the plan, but I bit it back. SteelHooves had never suggested or pressured me to go along with the solo mission, merely supported me when I made the decision to. Considering the tones of his previous conversation with Elder Blueberry Sabre, I suspected SteelHooves would have just as swiftly backed me if my decision had involved telling her to sit on my horn and spin.
I looked from SteelHooves to Calamity, again struck by the difference between them when it came to support. Calamity was loyal. SteelHooves was... obedient. Not necessarily to me, but to whomever he accepted as in charge. He was a soldier buck even now.
Velvet Remedy's glowing horn passed over me once more. She was making sure she had found every injury. As I had expected, my broken rib and punctured lung had drawn the most reaction from her (including a whole host of dark looks at Xenith that SteelHooves couldn't match). But she commended the zebra on not feeding me any healing potions, voicing confidence in her mending spells.
She gasped as she started to pass her horn over my tail. "Littlepip!" She leaned close, her voice scandalized and sympathetic. "How did you get wounded there?"
"That wasn't me," Xenith's voice sounded from the other room.
"What?" Calamity looked up tensely. "Who hurt Li'lpip where now?" I buried my face in my forehooves, feeling my cheeks redden with embarrassment.
"Never you mind," Velvet told the pegasus sternly as she opened her saddleboxes and floated out an array of medical supplies. Calamity's scavenging had restocked us well in that regard.
It didn't help that my worry over Homage had brought with it half-formed daydreams of the wonderful grey unicorn kissing that very wound to make it better.
Gracefully returning us to the earlier conversation, Velvet Remedy suggested, "I know you are worried about Homage, but please try not to let it eat at you. Remember, so long as Red Eye doesn't act on his threat, he has something to threaten you with. Once he does, all he has is an angry Littlepip. And if he's half as smart as you make him out to be, then he's plenty bright enough to know he doesn't want that."
I bit my lower lip.
Calamity stood up, shaking his head. "Ah hate t' be the voice o' worry, but..." The pegasus paused uncomfortably, brushing a hoof over his orange mane. "Well, Ah figure if he put that megaspell at Tenpony Tower, he musta done so b'fore he hatched his plan t' use ya. So the only thing keepin' him from using it is that deal o' ya."
I frowned. "So... do you think he'll set it off the moment he knows the Goddess is dead?" I hadn't even considered that. "That is, if I do that?"
Calamity nudged his hat. "Ah... don't rightly know. But DJ Pon3 is a dissentin' voice with a huge audience." Calamity's frown deepened. "Most dictatorships Ah know of tend t' go hell-an'-highwater t' either discredit or destroy opposin' voices like that."
I almost asked how many dictatorships Calamity knew of. But the words died on my lips as a memory floated to the surface of my mind:
Don'tcha believe 'em, Calamity had once told me. The Enclave has a vested interest in makin' anypony who bucks their ideals inta a monster.
Instead I nodded, trying to give him a supportive look.
"Stern cuts out the tongues of any who speak ill of Red Eye," Xenith reminded me, putting a little extra loathing into the griffin's name. "I spent several years speaking nothing so that I might keep mine." She added, "It is good to finally use it freely again."
SteelHooves grunted. "Now that we're all together, I don't see why we don't just call his bluff. Fly in and level his operation. Take him out."
I sighed deeply. "First, because taking him out wouldn't be that easy. Elder Blueberry Sabre was right about that. He's always protected, and he can get out faster than we can get to him..."
What I didn't say was that I wasn't sure I wanted to flatten his operation. In fact, I was sure that I didn't want to destroy the work he was doing. I wanted to free all the slaves. But that wasn't the same thing. Was it?
Dammit! It was easier to know my moral stance before I discovered that the evil fucker was also, as best I could see, right. He was building a better future... or, at least, parts of one. And he was sacrificing everything for it, from his own home to your freedom.
I recalled a conversation with Watcher regarding how, without what he called "the spark", the virtues he valued could become twisted, lost parodies of themselves. I had found another in Red Eye: Generosity. Even generosity could wander down twisted, dark paths... especially when what you are giving away shouldn't be yours to give.
SteelHooves nickered. "You don't actually believe Red Eye has a megaspell, do you?"
I grimaced.
"An undetonated balefire bomb? When would he have acquired something like that?" SteelHooves questioned. "Where? It's not like you can stumble over something like that just laying around."
Velvet Remedy, Calamity and I all exchanged looks.
"Oh no..." SteelHooves groaned. "What did you three do?"
The building was silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the bubbling of the cookpot, for several long minutes in the wake of our explanation.
"You gave a balefire bomb over to New Appleloosa?" SteelHooves exploded, pacing in his heavy armor, his metal-sheathed tail flicking in emphasis with each word. "A town notorious for trading with Red Eye's slavers?"
"Ayep."
"Which one of you idiots came up with that idea?" SteelHooves demanded.
I silently tore through my memories. I remembered being concerned about sending the freed slaves back to New Appleloosa. Stunningly, I couldn't recall having the same concerns about giving them a megaspell.
Calamity raised his hoof, a chagrinned expression on his face.
"This is..." Xenith asked, "...why they call you 'Calamity', yes?"
Velvet Remedy moved to sit by Calamity's side.
SteelHooves was fuming. "You do realize that Red Eye is the only reason there even is a New Appleloosa, right?" His visor turned towards us and found only blank expressions. "That place was a small town dying in the dust before Red Eye pranced in and gave them a water talisman. You've got to figure they owe him!"
Calamity shook his head, genuinely surprised. "Sorry, pardner, but that's a new one on me." I, however, merely groaned, putting my hooves over my eyes.
I saw the bounty of our Stable shared, the water talisman given to a struggling town which now knows the joy of clean and pure water.
Homage was going to die, and it was my fault.
• • •
My PipBuck was clicking at me, not letting me ignore that the water I was bathing in was radioactive. Velvet Remedy had a dose of RadAway sitting nearby for me to consume as soon as I got out of the grossly-stained tub. Pure water was a rare treat in the wasteland; even those who had it would not think to squander it on baths. Not unless they lived someplace with a water talisman like Tenpony Tower. And in the Fillydelphia Ruins, all the water to be found was irradiated.
The clicking of my PipBuck reminded me that my weeks in the Equestrian Wasteland had been, in many ways, blessed. I had avoided some of the more repulsive hardships that many ponies faced every day. I had never been reduced to drinking radioactive water from the bowl of a toilet.
There wasn't much of a wall left between this apartment's bathroom and the living room, so I was effectively bathing in front of them. Xenith was still tending her boiling pots. Velvet Remedy moved between helping me scrub places that I normally called on my magic to reach and watching Calamity as he tinkered with broken radios he had found in the other apartments, rebuilding one with parts cannibalized from the others. SteelHooves stood guard near the door.
The radio Calamity had been rebuilding flared to life.
"Yea-haw! Welcome, ponies of Fillydelphia! This is DJ Pon3 beaming a light into even the darkest parts of the Equestrian Wasteland! You can't stop the signal, baby! And thanks to that kid from Stable Two, the message is reaching even the souls trapped in that Celestia-forsaken hellhole. Looks like our plucky Stable-Dweller galloped into the heart of Red Eye's slavery operation and gave the old bastard a big black eye... in the form of losing nearly half his dirigibles and a small army's worth of his slavers. Not t' mention annihilating the Crater Boss. And she even took Red Eye's right hoof griffin, Stern, down a peg. Aaaaand that's not all! Our little Wasteland Heroine, our Bringer of Light, bucked right through the wall that Red Eye had built around Fillydelphia's airwaves, bringing my humble message into the one place I could never reach before! Thank you, Stable Dweller!"
I sunk deeper into the bath and moaned. The elation I felt at hearing Homage's voice (disguised as it was) in this horrible place battled the humiliation and dismay at hearing my royal fuck-up described as a brilliant victory. I did not earn this.
"If you should happen to see our Light Bringer, give her a big thanks! She'll be easy to recognize, should she keep in the company of the zebra slave she rescued as icing on the cupcake in her latest escapade. And for the rest of you still toiling away in Fillydelphia, our hearts go out to you, and your plight has not been forgotten. Plus, I offer these small words of hope: knowing our Light Bringer, I don't think she's done with Red Eye yet!"
Xenith stared at the little radio, blinking slowly. "How does he know so much?" We had walked across the moat and outside The Wall less than three hours ago.
The zebra looked at my companions, "And why does he not give you the credit you deserve? Much of the victory was yours. As was our escape, for which I am most thankful."
Calamity chuckled. "Aw, shucks. T'weren't nothin'."
Velvet Remedy purred, "Because we asked... DJ Pon3 not to mention us. Littlepip here should get all the credit."
I groaned. It was a conspiracy.
I started to get up and say something, but Velvet Remedy put a hoof to my muzzle, then whispered into my ear, "Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about that 'barn door' comment." She smiled as I collapsed with a splash under the weight of my embarrassment.
DJ Pon3's voice continued bringing news and advice to the ponies of the Equestrian Wasteland. I felt a chill as DJ Pon3 talked openly with us, having no idea she was in mortal danger.
"Warning to all those traveling central Equestria. Keep your hooves away from the areas surrounding Ponyville. I'm getting reports of fires along the back end of the Everfree Forest. They seem to be spreading slowly, but the advancing flames and smoke are pushing many of the forest's unpleasant inhabitants towards the Ponyville side of that nightmare zone, and at least a couple monsters have actually wandered their way into the old town itself. Fortunately, the only ponies living in that area are raiders. So, to the monsters, I say bon appetite!"
"Well, if it ain't one thing, 'tis another," Calamity neighed, pointing out that Splendid Valley was beyond Ponyville in the opposite direction. Fortunately, we would be crossing the area well above ground level, so we should be able to fly clear of any trouble.
"Unless, o' course, the critters wanderin' out o' that place include manticores or the like."
Knowing my luck, and the Equestrian Wasteland's maliciousness, they would be angry dragons.
"Well, it's another hard day in this Equestrian Wasteland, but I've got the news and the music to get you through. So say bye-bye to stupid static, and hello to magnificent music! This has been your host, DJ Pon3..."
The voice of Homage's broadcast persona gave way to one of the newer songs on DJ Pon3's playlist. Something from a record I had rescued out of Stable Twenty-Nine.
"Do you dream...?"
• • •
I felt immensely better after the bath. As Velvet Remedy wove her horn about my broken body, mending my rib and lung with her beautiful magic, I began to drift to sleep.
SteelHooves walked in. "Littlepip, can we talk? About the zebra."
I released a long-suffering sigh. This again? Lamely pretending to mishear, I replied. "Candy Hawk? Sorry, don't think I've heard of her."
"Funny," SteelHooves said dryly. "Littlepip, I need to talk to you."
"You need to go to the zoo? Fine. Need the four of us to come with you?" I put a little emphasis on the number four, only to realize that, with Pyrelight, it should have been five. Where was that magnificent bird anyway?
Snickering softly, Velvet Remedy stood up and trotted over to the Steel Ranger, head down. She pressed against him, wrapping him with a telekinetic field of her own, reducing the massive weight of his armor so that she could shove him out the door. "Sorry, SteelHooves. Too busy saving Equestria today. All prejudice has to be rescheduled. Is next month good for you?"
SteelHooves nickered with a stomp. "You might accept having one of those traveling with you, but even if I did, there is no way the Steel Rangers will let her trot into their citadel and live." He looked at me over Velvet's scarlet-and-gold streaked white mane. "Or am I wrong that you have further business there?"
I buried my face as I realized the ghoul stallion had a point. Stable-Tec's old headquarters was my first intended stop. I had some things to... discuss with Elder Blueberry Sabre. But that wasn't someplace I could take Xenith. I'd have more luck walking into the Steel Ranger's citadel with an alicorn in tow and trying to convince them she was friendly.
Velvet Remedy had him all the way through the doorway when I finally said, "SteelHooves, I have welcomed Xenith to join us. She's here as long as she wants to be. If that's a problem for you, then you are free to be elsewhere." I stared at him with what I hoped was a gentle expression. "Remember, Applejack herself offered her hooves in friendship to a zebra..."
The response I got back was an unexpected growl. "Yes. And if you only knew how that ended, you wouldn't speak of it!"
Wow. Minefield. "Okay... but somehow I've become the leader of this merry band of ponies, and I've decided to give her the chance. If you want to stay with us, you will too. I won't have Xenith mysteriously disappearing when my back is turned..."
Velvet Remedy gasped sharply at my insinuation. She didn't know the patterns of behavior I had seen in Applesnack's memories and looked appalled that I could suggest one of us capable of such things. I envied her innocence. SteelHooves himself was silenced.
"...So long as you are with us, you will love and tolerate the shit out of her. Consider that an order." I stared at him, giving him one chance.
"That said," I added reluctantly, "You are absolutely right about the Steel Rangers. I won't be bringing her with us into the Stable-Tec building. Which... ugh... means we'll have to split up again. If only briefly."
SteelHooves stood there for a moment, then gave a rigid nod. As he turned to trot away, he nearly ran into Xenith, who was trotting up with a small, covered cookpot hanging from her mouth. They stared at each other awkwardly, then danced about each other. Velvet Remedy backed up, letting Xenith through the doorway, then closed it behind her.
Xenith lowered her neck, placing the pot on the floor. "Once again, it would seem that I am the subject of an argument."
"You were the subject of an argument," Velvet Remedy corrected gently.
"Is that not what I said?" the zebra asked, perplexed. I covered a snicker with a hoof.
Velvet Remedy gave up with a roll of her eyes. "And what is that?" she asked, pointing at the cookpot with a hoof. Her ears tilted back. "Please tell me there is no meat in that."
Xenith looked quite surprised. "Of course not. Zebras are vegetarians... as I thought were ponies. Are you not?"
I could see the relief wash over Velvet Remedy as a look of joy broke over her face. "Yes! Yes we are! Thank Celestia... finally!" She slid up to Xenith, wrapping a foreleg around her neck, seemingly oblivious to the way Xenith suddenly tensed. "Oh, we are going to be the best of friends, you and I."
Velvet Remedy backed up, looking over Xenith. "And Littlepip isn't the only one in need of medical attention." The mother-doctor side of Velvet was instantly back in control as she pulled the top mattress off a set of bunk beds and insistently guided Xenith onto it.
But the nudge to lie down was the final straw. Xenith jumped away, spinning and knocking back Velvet Remedy's nudging hoof with enough force to send Velvet stumbling back with a tear in her eye. "I do not like to be touched!" the zebra spat.
Velvet Remedy blinked, falling onto her haunches, holding her bruised forehoof against her breast. I felt like I was frozen. Part of me needed to jump between them, to do something. But the situation had changed so rapidly my brain was still catching up.
"Oh." Velvet blinked. Her eyes widened. "OH!" She stared back at the tense zebra mare with an expression flooding with compassion. "oh, Xenith... I'm so sorry!"
I had not told anypony what Number Four had told me about Xenith's abuse; I did not feel I had the right. Velvet Remedy didn't need me to; she had figured it out for herself. Not the details, thank the Goddesses, but enough.
Gingerly putting her sore hoof down and standing, Velvet Remedy apologized again. But with that apology came insistence, "I will not touch you casually without permission. That was wrong of me. But I am a medical pony, and I will need to touch you to treat your physical wounds."
"I can do that well enough on my own," Xenith nickered.
Velvet nodded. "I am sure you can. But I can do it better." There was no boast. And after Velvet had been able to treat my rib and lung, there was no question that she was right.
"You deserve a lot better treatment than you've been getting. From others in the extreme, but also from yourself. Let me give you the level of care you need" Velvet whinnied. "At least, to the best of my ability."
Xenith neighed. "I came in here to deliver a gift for the little one, not to be prodded and treated by a medical pony."
They both turned to look at me. I was half tempted to pretend I couldn't hear them again. Ugh. Our family had clearly grown big enough that somepony needed to lay ground rules. But why should it fall to me? Considering my whole lack-of-family experience, wasn't I the least qualified?
"Xenith," I said gently, "In this group, we have to trust each other with our lives every day. We care for each other, and each one of us uses our talents to help all of us." I stopped as I recognized my line of thought was wandering. Re-adjusted. "You are very welcome here, and I do hope you stay with us. But being a part of this group will call for some sacrifices. You told me that I was responsible for you now. That includes making sure you are properly cared for, and this is how I choose to do that -- by having Velvet Remedy care for you like she cares for the rest of us." I looked at the zebra, adding, "Unless you choose to release me from my responsibilities."
Xenith's eyes narrowed. But slowly, she laid down on the mattress. "No, I do not, little pony."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Velvet Remedy moved carefully towards the zebra. She stopped as she passed the small cookpot still resting on the floor. She sniffed at it. "Xenith, what is this gift?"
"It is a restorative brew," Xenith told us. "It will replenish and heal your horn of the magics you overtaxed in our rescue."
I blinked. On one hoof, this was extremely welcome news. The last time I had burned out, it had taken days to recover. With Red Eye's threat hanging over Homage, I couldn't afford to be ineffective that long. On the other hoof, I couldn't help but question what a zebra could know of unicorn magics, much less remedies for uniquely unicorn ailments.
"I know many of the ancient mystical recipes. Ones to cure, to enhance and to harm," Xenith told us. "If I have the right ingredients, I can brew potions that will permanently alter and strengthen you, making you better fit for the fight ahead."
Alter? I didn't think I wanted to be altered.
"This is not such a potion, but I have what is necessary to craft one of these elixirs -- one which will strengthen your bones such that they will be much harder to break. I will brew this for you... if you allow me to."
Velvet Remedy looked skeptical. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Nor this gift, for that matter." Before either of us could protest, Velvet reminded me, "Littlepip has had some bad experiences with zebra 'medicine' before. She is particularly susceptible to their dangers."
Xenith looked between us. "I would not offer an addictive draught, nor give a cup too full." The zebra frowned at Velvet then turned to me, "You just said that here you allow each other to share their talents. Will you not let me share this one with you?"
Velvet nickered at the way Xenith used my own argument so swiftly. The zebra cocked her head. "You have seen Red Eye, have you not? That pony has augmented himself with machines and technology. If the little one truly chooses for him to be her mortal enemy, then should she not take advantage of the gifts I offer her? If Red Eye is also my enemy, should I not offer them?"
My answer was to get up, walk to the cookpot and lift away the lid. The brew inside smelled sweetly spicy, the steam that rushed out cleared my sinuses. With only the slightest hesitation, I began to drink.
• • •
My magic had been completely spent. After drinking Xenith's potion, and a night of rest, I still couldn't lift the now-empty cookpot. But I believed I could feel the stirrings of my magic. And I knew one test which called for only the tiniest spark of focus and power.
I laid one of the memory orbs on the apartment floor. I had sacrificed all save for the two I had taken from the safes in my battle with the super-alicorn. But those two had been put in the other saddlebag. I laid down, leaning forward and concentrating as I touched my horn to the orb...
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
Flashes of light burst across the night -- scores of cameras capturing the moment for a mob of news-ponies and paparazzi. They mixed with a throng of ponies shouting protests and holding signs in their mouths. My host was standing on a set of marbled steps, looking down on them and watching a quartet of armored police ponies push their way through.
I was encased in armor, but unlike my experience in the mind of Applesnack, this armor did not feel heavy or claustrophobic. I could, in fact, barely feel it at all. The limited vision, the Eyes-Forward Sparkle that played behind the visor and the smell of trapped pony sweat were the swiftest indications of how I was clad. (A very nice scent of mare-sweat, I could not help myself from thinking.) With an unpleasant shock, I realized I could feel my wings. I was in a pegasus pony.
To each side of me stood more pegasi wearing the sleek, black carapace armor I had come to associate with the Enclave.
As the police ponies broke through the front of the crowd below and started up the steps, I could see they were escorting a zebra, bound in chains and encircled by the armored ponies.
One of them stepped forward, speaking to somepony just behind me. "We caught her in Ironshod Firearms, red-hoofed, trying to steal the schematics for the anti-machine rifle."
The zebra protested her mistreatment. "I haven't broken any rule; I was invited there you fool!" Her exotic accent was like Xenith's, and I recognized the odd rhyming that seemed to flow in all her speech. Lowering her voice loudly, Zecora asked the lead pony, "So are you always such a tool?"
"I knew it!" cried an equally familiar voice from behind me. The pink party pony advanced into view, glaring daggers at the zebra. "And to think I let you trick us into trusting you! You... you trickster!"
Zecora looked hurt. Pinkie Pie didn't relent, breaking into furious sing-song. "She's an evil enchantress and she does evil dances..."
"Pinkie Pie, you have me wrong. I am not like your foalish song."
"Don't even try to entrance me, Zecora. I... Never again." Pinkie Pie turned from her, scowling. It was the first time I had really seen the Mare of the Ministry of Morale angry, and it was terrifying.
In a low voice, she grumbled, "I hope you really like rocks!"
Pinkie Pie looked up at me, then jabbed a hoof towards two of the armored pegasi on my right. "You and you, help escort my old friend..." Pinkie Pie hissed the words between clenched teeth, "...to the convoy. Zecora will be spending the rest of her life as a guest of Shattered Hoof. Tell them that I want all of that zebra's memories. And don't. Be. Too. Gentle."
The two pegasi on my right rushed to obey. Pinkie Pie pointed her hoof at me. "You, with me."
The pink earth pony stomped back up the steps and into what I assumed was a Ministry building. My host turned and trotted after her, following behind Pinkie Pie as she crossed the darkened, spacious lobby towards the elevators. Under her breath, Pinkie Pie continued to sing venomously, "...she'll mix up an evil brew, and swallow you up in a big, tasty stew!..."
She stopped singing in the elevator. Which was good, since the song would have clashed unpleasantly with the lullaby version of March of the Parasprites that was playing inside the lift. Pinkie Pie turned and pushed all the buttons simultaneous with her rump.
The elevator took us directly to a large office with a huge plate-glass window that looked out over... Canterlot.
Pinkie Pie strode dangerously into the middle of the room, then turned, fixing me with the sort of malevolent expression that made me think she might carve me up and bake me into a cupcake. Then in a magical instant, she broke into a huge smile that seemed to light up the room. She waved a hoof in a sweeping bow, her voice bursting with joy: "ACTING!"
The aging pink earth pony collapsed onto the floor in a fit of giggles. "Best! Prank! Ever!"
My host humphed and trotted over to the window, looking down below. The Eyes-Forward Sparkle started identifying ponies and wagons in the street below. The convoy carrying Zecora to Shattered Hoof was already rolling out under a light guard supplemented by the two pegasi in magically-powered armor.
I felt myself lift the visor. In the window, my reflected face was blue, with magenta eyes and a shock of rainbow-colored hair matted between them. Pinkie Pie's reflection appeared on the window next to me. "Zecora's gonna be all right," she asked, a note of true concern in her voice. "Won't she Dashie?"
I saw and felt my host nod. "She's been with the best trainers the Ministry of Awesome has. I wouldn't let this move forward if it were otherwise."
Pinkie Pie nodded and turned her stare to the convoy below. It was already two blocks away. Pinkie Pie paused, lifting her left forehoof and wiggling it. "Huh."
Rainbow Dash ignored this, eyes narrowing. "Extraction by traitorous zebra sympathizers in three..."
"Two!" Pinkie Pie looked back down, excited. "Ooooh, Zecora's gonna make such a good spy!"
"One..."
There was a flash down below as the first wagon in the prisoner convoy exploded. Dark figures rushed in from all sides amidst flashes of muzzle-fire.
Rainbow Dash pushed down the visor. "And here. We. Go."
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
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Perpetual
- Posts: 2
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:06 pm
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BartonFink
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2017 11:14 pm
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
Do they make Scalia plushies anywhere
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Dodger
Re: cram as many posts here in 30 mins as possible (LYAT fin
noPineapple wrote:can lazy post the entirety of fallout equestria before lyat closes forever
