Ch. 1: Work is the the front lines for hell
Title Pending
Youth looked amazing when you could run forever and never hurt your back. Those were the days, sneaking everywhere all at once with no trouble or pain killers. Featherweight was a somewhat addict to pain killers these days. His job made him move around so much to get pictures that it got harder and harder to flex. Impossible angles and thick crowds to maneuver.
Morning after morning of trying to schedule an appointment with a chiropractor and zoom off to work. Break days didn't happen a lot so he was happy to have tomorrow off, Right now was work though.
Life in Manehattan was a survivalist world, kill or be killed. That was the law here. You make a wrong move you lose, game over. That just made bigger corporations strong or weaker, and let the little man surpass them or fall even farther down the hole of debt.
Featherweight, in particular, lived in this concrete jungle without care of how his life went by. This was a perk for Featherweight since his partner, from the newspaper company, was foreign, avoiding the beasts that could rip him apart was less worrisome.
"Hey Feathers do you know where we should go after work today?" Book Scribe, his partner, asked with a grin on his face.
Book Scribe was one of the few grown immigrants from Cracsis, the diamond dog kingdom, that not only spoke, but could write equish. Miraculously, she made it up to the top of Equastria Weekly within the last six months.
"No, where?" Featherweight replied it was obvious that he was exhausted from both missing some good chances to get shots of Princess Cadence and Her husband's newborn and the fact that he had just been scolded by the Editor & Chief.
"The Cider Boat. The bar allows my species and they make great margaritas." Books said with a small squeak.
For a gray female, diamond dog, who was 6' 10, wore a black flier's jacket, and had hands that could wrap around his head and crush it, she acted like a girly teddy bear that enjoyed tea parties and dress up.
"No way, not after you made me pay the bill last time." Featherweight said accusingly irritation in his tone.
"It wasn't that expensive." Book muttered, pouting.
"1,564 bits. That's what I still owe that interracial bar, Black Jack's for all the alcohol you drank." Featherweight growled. His trademark front teeth curved awkwardly as he glared at her.
"I paid for your part of the bill didn't I?"
"4 bits! That's all you paid for!"
"Okay then how about I pay the rest of that and you put me on a 100 bit limit." Book offered.
"50 bit limit or no." Featherweight said bluntly.
"75?"
"50."
"70?"
"50."
"65?"
"50."
"60?" She pleaded.
"55 is the most your getting out of me." Featherweight said, knowing he had her stuck in a, to him, win-win situation. He lifted his hoof to shake her paw, smirking.
"Jerk." Book Scribe growled, grabbing his hoof she crushed it in her grip as she shook it.
The skinny, tan Pegasus luckily, felt very little as she crushed his hoof, she had done worse to his neck compared to this.
"Now that were agreed on I finally can torture you instead of having the Editor & Chief up my-"
"Have who up your what now?" Said a familiar voice.
Featherweight froze stiff. He hadn't realized the Editor & Chief was behind him, little less that they had just walked into the Equestrian Weekly building.
Damn it! Scribe was leading me towards the building this entire time. BBBUUUCCCKKKKK! I'm screwed the chief is here! Wait, it's three minutes to closing for the day! Chief's off work now. YES! NO! BUUUCCCKKKK! She can still fire me!
"Oh! Uh... Chief lovely night to see the city the views quite amazing huh!" Featherweight stammered.
"First off, I'm not the Chief while I'm off duty, I have a name. Secondly, this is the first floor there is no "view". Thirdly, to make up for an insult I'm going to let you go-" The Chief said.
"Huh?" Book Scribe interrupted.
Featherweight's face went into a state of pure horror. He was being let go?! But this was his first mess up since he started! He broke his wings so he couldn't of gotten the pictures from the ground.
"But... Huh?" Featherweight asked.
The Chief grinned, a snake-like grin the king that inflicted a intimidating presence but at the same time gave off a presence of 'If you don't like the joke screw you it's was funny as hell.', "Oh no, you thought- Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Once again your useless brain shows it's gears, I feel sorry for you Book Scribe, to work with such a hypochondriac." The Chief said laughing the entire time.
"But didn't you just fire me?" Featherweight asked now confused by his own boss.
"No I'm letting you go- out to town with me to make up for being rude to me." She said a grin.
"Damnit." Featherweight muttered.
"What was that Featherweight?"
"Nothing at all boss."
Book Scribe snickered as they all started walking to the bar.
"Book Scribe, you owe that bar money still so don't get cocky."
"Yes Chie-" Book Scribe was stopped by one of the bosses marshmallow white hooves.
"I'm off duty so my name is Sweetie Belle not boss, now let's go." Shaking her curled pink and purple hair, Sweetie Belle looked forward and started in the same direction.
"Um, boss you're going the wrong way." Book Scribe said as they followed her down the black sludge and moss covered alley.
"Oh really?"
POP!
Sweetie Belle's horn had lit up only seconds before hand and now they weren't in an alley. Book Scribe jumped, Featherweight had expected as much Sweetie Belle had teleported outside her office window after talking with him about an assignment, more than once.
"I'll get the table, you two grab a Bloody Mary and whatever you guys want," Sweetie Belle said as she skipped in.
"So I told 'em t' let me think it over. You can see I came 'ere for yer advice cuz'." Said a tall red haired mare, a large bow in her hair.
"Well, this Rumble fello of yours he sounds nice 'nough, ya can think it over before ya leave or ya can stay here tonight then go back to your home t' morrow."
"That's nice of ya Babs." Said the red haired mare turning her head she only barely saw Sweetie Belle come in followed by... Was that Featherweight and a diamond dog? Oh well.
"Hey, Sweetie Belle that you?" She yelled the southern accent was enough to catch the white mare's attention.
"Hey guys we'll be sitting on the bar tonight." Sweetie called back to her group.
Well, at least the rum can't be as bad as my luck. Featherweight said as he sat down on the bar near the end. He listened for about an hour as the four girls, including Book Scribe and his demon boss, he was bored half to death by the time Sweetie Belle and her old friend from school left, Book Scribe had reached her bit limit (for a heavy drinker she was happy with the buzz she had.) and left, too.
This left Featherweight with a seat at the bar and time to relax, "Hey you guys got any Rum?" He asked a the bartender near him.
"Ya we do, but isn't you bill already pretty high."
"I honestly don't care I need to forget life for a while." Featherweight replied. He looked at the bartender. It was obviously a girl, so he had no way of saying the hell he was put through.
"So how do you know Sweetie Belle?" She asked.
"Oh her, she's my boss we've gone to school together since we were in elementary, we didn't get to know each other until we went into Equastria Weekly, you," The thin stallion replied drinking a bit the rum he had been given his ears perked up at the taste it didn't really taste like rum, it was sort of like that butterscotch whiskey he had tried mixed with a bit of burn, "this is good."
"If you know Sweetie belle ya know my cuz Applebloom, I'm guessin'?" She asked. Getting a nod in response.
"That's how I know her, the CMC club that's now a national club for kids. They were the original three and I started the division over here in Manehattan. It took a few years but now it's a huge thing now a days. Scootaloo runs the entire thing from what I here she organizes the events and activities. Of course last I heard she was complaining about paperwork. Oh, I haven't introduced myself, I'm Babs Seed. And I brewed that rum myself, thanks."
"Haha, dat's just like her from what I member from school, I'm Featherweight, you welcome." Featherweight said. A slur evident from the alcohol.
"I can see that, probably shouldn't of have gave you that. That's 200 proof rum."
Featherweight guzzled down the rest, "serio lee? I don't see any proo-" the stallion fell out of the stool, twitching slightly as he squirmed to stand up and move.
"Shit," Babs mumbled, "I'm making a document saying I'm not to be held responsible next time something like this happens. BOSS IM GOING FOR THE NIGHT!"
A muffled "Close up and be careful." was all that came from upstairs.
"YEAH YEAH! Okay come on lightweight lets go." Babs said shaking her head.
"Liwei? Nuh uh." Said the thin pegasi.
Babs went over and stood him up, supporting practically nothing. She didn't know how he was this way, but the skinny guy weighed next to nothing.
Oh well, makes my job easier. Babs thought as she lead him out the door and down the street.
The concrete, by that time of night, was hard and cold like an ice block that wouldn't make you slip, but still freeze you. Featherweight kept mumbling about being teleported out a window from the sounds, Babs couldn't help but wonder why he was being put outside the window, or was he just rambling like a drunkard, she didn't know, it was always confusing to listen to people ramble when they were almost strangers. That would most likely not be true by the time tomorrow night rolled in, but for now they were complete stranger who only knew each others names and occupations.
Author's Note
This chapter is dedicated to DiveBomb. You were a great author and your Riflepony series taught me how to do a lot of things.
I hope to put more emphasis on Babs accent after I figure it out better, as for the really drunk slurs that's exactly what my brother was like when he chugged a bottle of moonshine thinking it was a bottle of whiskey.
