Amidst Deception

Octavia awakened panting and sweating coldly, she had felt something caressing her rear end. She felt something forcing its way inside of her. She ripped off her sleep mask and scoured every corner, every wall of the room, nothing was there. She turned to her aching behind, again nothing was there. In the corner of her eye she saw the door ajar and could hear a faded cantering dying out at the end of the hallway.

She fell back on her rump and cursed, the area was raw, and she climbed out of bed. On reaching the felt-like floor Octavia noticed how short her sleep had been cut. She let her vision fix on the wall-mounted clock.

“One in the morning, it’s too early for this mare.” She whined. The door still flapped and the pain was still a mystery, but Octavia needed her rest. She had come to the sleepy town to get away from stress, creating trouble where none existed was an errand most foolish.

She gently pushed the door to and returned to the silken covers. As quick as her head hit the pillow she fell back to sleep.

The Apple Household>

Braeburn woke to the blistering sunlight, he felt a warm presence next to him, he laughed at himself for his stupidity when he remembered the affectionate display of Desert Rose and she purred. He released his habitual embrace and undocked his member from underneath the peaceful cow.

He could do little to deter little Braeburn. He hid himself behind the backdrop of the couch and quietly knocked one out. He didn’t want to be caught by his mother or father in this compromising position. Braeburn fervently stroked his shaft whilst he perversely gazed into Rose’s open crotch.

He pumped and pumped until he was about to explode and henceforth came over the leather couch. He groaned loudly at the release, the cow that slept next to the hearth awoke. Rose rubbed her eyes with the latter part of her foreleg and curiously strode over to the wincing stallion. She poked her ahead over the top of the parapet and made eye contact with the one eye which stared back so intensely.

She recoiled as more pearlescent gloop sprayed from the end and plastered the back of the couch. He came in several increments with the volume and spread increasing with every subsequent shot. Once spent the stallion forced the drooping, dripping mass down against the putrefied canvas.

Rose was not disgusted; she had seventeen brothers as well as a sexually ambiguous father, so she was no stranger to the morning strum. She blushed iridescently as she remembered the sight. She rounded the furniture piece and admired the length even when it was flaccid. She planted her eyes on the sticky, slippery, petulant husk of dripping canvas that nearly peeled from the weight of the fluid. “Wow, hold on mustang, you could take someone’s eye out with that thing.”

Brae crossed his legs to hide the receding fellow; he pulled an expression of shame before venturing to the kitchen and fetching a roll of tissue. He had no problem locating the toiletries and returned barely a minute after he had left. He nearly choked on the bile which rose in his throat as he set his attentions on the lapping action of Rose.

She licked greedily the bittersweet flavour of Brae’s loins and turned to him. She gave an innocent look, pearly white droplets hanged from her muzzle; she pushed her tongue between her lips and scooped the droplets away. Braeburn almost vomited again, this time he managed to swallow the hard forming lump. He warded Rose away.

She backed away as he charged; she looked confused and amorous all at the same time. Braeburn wiped a measure of tissue across the canvas and disposed of the resulting clump into the waste-basket. He examined the patch she had ‘cleaned’ and bowed his head. “Rose, you shouldn’t, I shouldn’t… I should have… I- I”

Braeburn tripped over his words before actually tripping over his still unwieldy fifth-leg. Rose went to kiss him but just as she fluttered her eyelashes hoof-steps descended down the stairs. Gillyflower and Bailey loitered a moment at the door before Gilly approached Rose in a sort of a hobble. “Was the bed not to your liking? I told him to change the sheets!”

Rose peered around and snapped her focus onto Braeburn once again; she paused briefly and looked deeply into the ground. “I’m not used to sleeping on my own; I have a very large family.”

Gilly looked satisfied with the excuse; he then sniffed the stale air. “What have you done boy?”

Braeburn sheepishly vaulted the couch and gritted his teeth as his penis slapped the inside of his thigh. He hanged his head in shame and then looked back up through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry Pa, it’s a morning thing.”

Bailey collapsed in the foyer in hearing the sentence, her head cracked against the bottom step of the staircase. Gilly took in the vile stench of salty sea air and reiterated. “What is that smell son? Have you ejected all over that couch again?”

To do it once was undesirable but a repeat offense was truly deplorable, Braeburn nodded ashamedly. Rose cut in to the assailing atmosphere. “It’s no issue really, I am accustomed to it.” Brae continued to nod his head like an obedient pup until his neck would have surely fallen off.

Gilly raised a hoof in query, his expression changed from one of disgust to one profound. He chose his words carefully. “How do you mean you are used to this? Have you been exposed to this depravity before?”

Rose felt the weight of the world on her slight back; she didn’t understand what crime had been committed. She decided she needed to explain herself and then she saw the collapsed mare. “Your wife I assume… She’s not looking too perky.”

Gilly flicked his eyes to where hers’ directed and leapt into action. He reached his wife’s still form and leaned down to her chest. She was still breathing, her heartbeat was slower than normal and there were a few spots of blood underneath her head. He manhandled her head to properly view the damage, there was a shallow cut right in the back of her skull, he hadn’t even noticed. He tossed his head around and gestured for Braburn to assist. Brae got the message and rushed over to the casualty.

He did nothing but add worry to the situation, his father wiped a tear from his eye and instructed. “Get a clean towel and the first-aid kit, fetch a glass of water and a pillow, yeah a pillow.”

Braeburn set off for the items and left Desert Rose awkwardly in the thick of the catastrophe.

Overlooking Appaloosa>

Powdered paint dragged across Raging’s face. He assumed the guise of the wolf for this mission. His father stood proudly at his side, both of them scanned the waking city, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The moment was signalled by the shrill siren of the vultures, Raging bared his teeth before he galloped into the breach.

The wonderers of the morning were dispersed and gored by Raging’s horns. He did not know where to look and he was not a Holmes in his previous life. He ran+domly stared into windows and smashed in doors, he scoured the town, he didn’t leave a stone unturned. However, the home he sought, the cow he lusted, was hidden far beyond where his nose could detect.

He ran amuck amongst the gardens and houses until his stampede was stopped by an ominous sound. As the smoke rage cleared Raging noticed the stallion in front of him, he blinked out of disbelief and caught his breath. Wallace lowered the hoof-cannon and rehoused it in the holster “now lookie here buffalo, we don’t take kindly to troublemakers around here.”

Most had taken refuge inside their houses, not wanting to face the tyrant at their doorstep. Not many would have seen the stallion of dull green standing strong in the standoff. Raging panicked, sweat smeared his war face paint, and he was befuddled. “I won’t tell you again brute! Get clear of this place. Else things gonna get messy”

Raging backed away; his shadow shrank upon the sanded ground. “What business did you have here anyways bull?” Wallace asked whilst his hoof hovered over the holster.

The strongest son of a clan seventeen strong bowed his head in defeat.

He then recalled his confusion and piped up “I didn’t think you were around anymore, you left these parts for the big city, pansy!”

Wallace beamed at the accusation; he switched his guard and affixed his hoof with the cannon. “Watch what you say outlaw.”

Raging reached for a tomahawk fastened to his flank, he poised ready to let it fly but was promptly laid out for the buzzards by a deafening gun-shot.

Earlier, in Appaloosa<

Desert Rose sizzled under the limelight glare of Gilly. They shared a moment of content nothingness until Braeburn returned with the items requested. Brae went to work securing his mother’s head and neck with the pillow, he draped the towel over her and tucked it in behind her, and he positioned the glass on the corner counter of the foyer and set the first aid kit down at his father crutch.

Gilly nursed the venous neck of his beloved, she blinked feverishly in shock, and he opened the latched of the kit and delved a hoof inside. He found a bottle of pills and pulled it out, emblazoned on the label were the words ‘Equi-care’ and the subtitle ‘Asperein’.

Gilly stared dementedly into the array of bottles and sheets of tablets and cure-alls, he grimaced at his own headache and turned to his son “can you take Rose out of the house please? I need some time just to get things straight in my head.”

Brae nodded in submission before cantering over to the cow and taking her by the hoof “come on Rose! You wanna see the town?” Rose lit up like a Roman candle as she considered all the wonderful sights and smells that lay in store for her. She clasped his hoof back and pair of them disappeared out of the door.

Once free of the house they trotted merrily through the sanded streets. The little cow was pleased to feel the open air upon her skin; she hummed a tune as they continued on. Brae, was somewhat curious, he bent his neck around to the Rose and asked “where did you hear that tune? I heard something similar, old Mr Thicket used to coin it; it was pretty tone-deaf and arrhythmic to be perfectly honest.” His cussing of the fallen sheriff was cut short by a hoof which closed his lips “it’s damn good you’re cute because you come out with some inane chat sometimes.”

“Did you meet him?” Braeburn pursued whilst his forelock kissed a low cactus branch. Rose held back a laugh at her klutz of a friend. She cocked an unsure eyebrow. “Did I meet who?” The compliment sank in and Brae’s cheeks visibly blushed, a small patch of red on his sun-kissed form. Braeburn puzzled at the response and scratched his bristly chin henceforth. “Jeremiah, you know the stallion with the banjo, wait what happened to the banjo? He always had that thing, why would he lose it?”

Rose stalled for thought, but nothing shot up to her. “He must have lost it, he was getting on you know, I remember my grandfather, he was the same” she concluded. All throughout her speech Braeburn had been mulling over his recent memories, he stuck on one and rebuked. “He did know you, Jeremiah saw you in the crowd and he called you. You knew him, you trusted him. Why are you lying to me Rose?”

Rose sucked in her lips between her teeth “I lied because I didn’t want to look guilty.” Brae returned a gaze of sympathy. “I don’t blame you, I blame Patience Pear, ever since that broad reached for the bottle she’s been a mother ruined.”

“What about the changeling? Weren’t you going to inform the alicorns?” Rose requested respectfully, she neared the main street of the town. Braeburn hurried his pace and skipped ahead of Rose.

He stopped in his tracks and kicked his hoof in the sand “I’m going today, you can tag along if you want.” Rose caught up to the shoulder of the stallion as the two reached the biggest road in all of Appaloosa.

Brae saw something going awry, he could see the back of a pea-green stallion, and the stranger had a gun held in his hoof. Only the stallion was no stranger, or so Braeburn thought. He inspected every visual cue of the stallion before noting the blur of a buffalo curled up in a ball a little further down the street.

Braeburn turned back to face his partner in crime, he prodded a hoof into her chest to get her to stop; she resisted but did as requested just before she could see around the corner. “What’s the holdup Braeburn?” Rose demanded as she tried to budge past the tower of charisma and muscle in front of her. Braeburn kept her back with ease before muttering a few words to his self. “Was that him? No it couldn’t be. He has been gone for so long… But he looked so much like him…”

He fought back the efforts of Rose whilst observing the scene the likes of which was not so much different to an old western flick. He saw the two grabbing for their weapons so he closed his hooves over Rose’s ears as a concussive sound ripped through the valley.

BOOM

Little Rose was stunned by the commotion. Brae continued to cradle her shaking head. He caught a glimpse of a mare in the window above him, she was peering out to the fracas below, and to top it all off she was a radiant sight to the sorest of eyes.

Octavia’s Room<

Octavia roused from her peaceful slumber and habitually performed the motions to remove her sleep mask. In her morning fuzziness she took a few tries to realise the mask was already gone. She had woken to the second of a volley of gunshots, her head was aching mildly, she threw open the window.

She saw Wallace, he was returning towards the accommodation. Behind him flew a flock of blackbirds up into the sun-blessed sky. She rummaged inside her clothing suitcase and plucked up a mane-brush. She gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and brushed her mane back into line. From her door came a knocking, Octavia smartened her pink bowtie around her neck and went to answer it.

The door was unlocked and opened before the musically talented mare could do so. Wallace entered the room and pointlessly continued to knock on the wall. “Good day Miss Woodwind, I was wondering if our esteemed guest would like to partake in breakfast this morning.”

Octavia bit her lip in thought before happening upon the revelation that she was indeed famished. She flipped her bangs out of her face and replied. “Why, thank you sir, that sounds delightful.”

The two went hoof in hoof down to the eatery at the end of the long hallway. Wallace bowed again as he showed the guest her seat and left her to her meal. Octavia curtsied in accordance and took her place at the table. Before her was an array of finger-sandwiches, high tea selections as well as a healthy pot of Green-tea. She admired the spread and then found her eyes wondering around the room, not a single pony in the room had a breakfast quite so exquisite.

She thought to question the special treatment; she stopped herself as she remembered she was there to relax. She shrugged off the elitist splendours and sank her teeth into a fresh cucumber sandwich.

Three sandwiches sat heavily in Octavia stomach, as she fought back a burp Wallace returned to the table. He had a variety of fruit salads. Everything ranging from: melon, grapefruit, pineapple, squash and kiwi to apple slices, pears, orange segments and grapes of all colours. The platter was set on the table and the carrier left the mare to yet more delectable food. He turned back before his tail was tugged by a pursuant grey hoof “I don’t mean to be a bother, but is this really necessary?”

Wallace whipped around at the remark and sat in the seat opposite to Octavia. He began. “We know you’re accustomed to the better things in life, this is simply a little slice of home for you.” Octavia shuffled unevenly on her chair, which was also of higher quality than the rest, and pushed the offerings away “I know you mean well, but it is the stresses of city life that I intend to avoid, maybe a simple bowl of haylage would better suit me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Wallace shuffled uncomfortably and patted the side of his head “Ugh, I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t wanna make this awkward. I know you’re like a big star and everything, this, this pitiful display was a ploy to get you to notice me.”

Octavia opened up a little to the sentiment, she leaned forward attentively. “That’s sweet, but don’t make me feel special, I am not anything special.”

Wallace grinded the words through the gears of his mind until something clicked. He leaned down also to her level and cupped his head in his hooves. “You’re special to me.”

Octavia let out a cute giggle and looked away. She stroked the back of her hoof with the other and retorted unconfidently “I’m not special because ponies listen to the newer forms of music now! I am obsolete, my style defunct. I can only dread the audience’s reaction at the anniversary ball when I walk on stage with my stupid cello!”

The stallion across the table leaped at the chance to make the mare’s day, he placed a photo out on the table. Upon the piece were a group of ponies, three were mares and the fourth a stallion. The stallion featured in the picture rang a bell; He wasn’t Quasimodo but the prolific caramel-coated gentlecolt. It was Jeremiah! The header read: ‘4 strings of paradise’.

“So you see this is how I know you are special. It would mean a whole lot to me if you would see it to” Wallace cooed.

Octavia facehoofed at missing her own blatant muzzle in the photo, she clutched the sides of it and tapped it against the table surface a couple of times. “I do see. You think I knew your father.”

Wallace perked up to the affirmation but dulled back down at the doubtful choice of words. He gestured to the photo contents “look there is you and my dad together! That can’t be a coincidence, you had to know him.”

Octavia sighed deeply and stole a small macaroon off of the high-tea tower. “I was only standing in, the fourth member was sick that day. I was just… helping out. I probably knew less of him than you.”

Wallace struggled to contain his fury, he kept it under lock and key but something started to change, both in his character and in the way he carried himself.

He smashed a hoof onto the table and tore off a chunk. “How could you know less than me? I barely knew his name… His name! I was his only son and I couldn’t remember his name. What kind of pony am I? You have to know something more you just have to!”

Octavia saw the quickly spiralling situation needed defusing, she halted the fidgeting hooves of the dull green stallion and spoke softly. “I don’t know why you didn’t know him, I can’t understand your pain, but I am one of the best listeners in Equestria, it’s sort of part of the job.” She comforted as she lay her hooves onto his.