Arigato Pinkie-San

“Sun Szu said that…"

I’ll have to remember that alicorn wings, while delicious and exotic, do not part as nicely. I think my guts have liquified.

Blacked out again, found myself on the second floor of a hospital. I think I should see ‘The Good Doctor’ about these things, could become problematic. On the other hoof, this place is freaky clean. Like re-goddamn-diculously clean. Weren’t ruins supposed to be, well, ruined? This place, aside from some paint chipping, was spotless. And I’m bleeding, when did this start? It would explain why I awoke in this hospital, but why the second floor? Another thing is that there’s spent shells on ground and my gun is warm. Clearly I’ve been spreading the magic of friendship someone special.

Alright, alright, gotta do something about the bullets in my gut. Gonna need something to extract them, clean the wound, and seal it.

{Running~...

Oh this is new.

Ruu~niiing~..

Where have I heard this voice before?

I dunno, maybe you found a audiolog in your sparkle cola?

Cognizant voices in my head that speak possible truths? More likely than I thought.

Look to your left, you silly pony...

Oh hey, trauma center. That could help. No wait, that would be helpful! Forceps, pure alcohol, and extracting tools, just what’s needed to clean a wound. One of the many things you learn either from others or experience is field medicine. After all, who neglects to remove a slug before administering health potions? Stable Ponies, thats who. Fuckers don’t even know the difference between pony and radigator meat. Back to crisis at hoof, I can now get better. Thank you, hallucinatory voice in my head!

Anytime… Spooky noises~ Spooooky-ee noises...

I’m amazed that I didn’t bleed out or die of toxic shock by now. These holes look at least four hours old. I was expecting at least a little pus or inflammation. But they came out with little effort. Weird. And there goes the alcohol aaannd…

“PLUTO’S NOT A PLANET!” Oh yeah. That hurt. Clean, but by Pinkie that shit burns. I take a swig of the whiskey in my pack and start patching up with healing bandages. Between the burning numbness coming from my wound and the firewater I just drank, I don’t I’m good to shoot.

Suddenly an invisible hammer slammed into the side of my head, knocking me off the table. Now I really shouldn’t consider sharpshooting.

I leap to my hooves and turn. Who hit me, where are they, and why is the medical equipment being tossed aside by nothing? I drop to the ground as a series of scalpels fly into the wall behind me. I smell something familiar. Blueberries? What. Another shot this time to my side relieves me of the air in my lungs. For split second, I saw something cerulean.

Four hours ago I had been eating breakfast, when I was attacked by an assassin. Well several, but they were a diversion. Slavers with assault rifles are nothing to joke about, they tend to be crackshots when shooting slaves or ponies they want as slaves. This time though, they lacked the eye-glowy thing from before. Whats more, when they had been dealt with, something else attacked me. Caught me off guard which would explain the holes in me. Only thing I don’t know who it was that shot me.

I had found cover behind an overturned gurney, but seeing that I can’t see my opponent(what weird phrasing), I’m at a loss short side of blind-firing my weapon and hope I at least hit my foe. The wet thumping noise informs me I’ve hit something other than wall and air. The clopping of hooves down the hall and trail of red blood is all I need.

“Red Rover, Red Rover, please send that fucker over!” A grenade in a blue bubble, unicorn or magic wingicorn. Still bleeds, still dies.

One never gets used to ringing of a detonation in a enclosed location. Is this what its like in a Stable? Shit, how do they fight when they can’t even use frags? I put my SMG back onto it’s carousel, no point in shooting. By now they’ve probably sealed their wounds, so going by the drippings will be pointless. But the blood itself? I dab my hoof into the puddle, take a taste, take a sniff, behind me.

I drop down as the air whooshes overhead. I sweep my hind legs behind me and make contact with somepony else’s, drive further and theres a heavy thump as they fell.

“FUCK!” She cries out, a mare. Who knew they taught that to slavers these days. Then again, they’ve always had a bead on us Raiders even if there is a armistice. We’re tenacious and natural born warriors. Well those of us who make it as long as me and my former crew had. Guess alicorns don’t just come in ‘Big Mean Bitch Green,’ good to know. She copies my sweep, I jump, she grabs my throat with her magic and tosses me to the side. Lets chalk up it to three blows to my head. How fortunate the wall was hollow and softer than it looks.

Well she’s gone and I can’t smell her blood anymore. Gonna have to go for something more subtle. I close my eyes and smell. Nothing... Nothing… Nothing… Oh. Oh hello! Smells like its some pony’s time of the year.

“I CAN SMELL THE MAGIC!!” I scream, getting a strong sense of rage directed at me. I head towards my prey, gotta love the smell of a mare in heat. Tangy, pungent, with a touch sweat. “Come to me, my pasty—!”

I was lifted and slammed into the walls by a blue bubble. Then I was flipped over and had my back make a dent in the reinforced floor.

“Flavor my fancy... *wheeze* but you put the pants… *hack* in panting!” And up we go again. I felt pressure around my neck and Blue decloaked in front of me. She grabbed my knife and placed it to my forehead.

“Any last words, worm?” She growls.

“You… Smell… SO… GOOD!” I choke out as I bring up my SMG. Her eyes go bloodshot with rage she begins to push the blade in.

BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!

And air rushed into my lungs after the depravation. It felt like a rebirth. It appears I’ve made an enemy of Red Eye and The Goddess. Fine. But I’ve a bone to pick with somepony else first.