A Chessmaster and his Game

Jackson almost wished he was shorter, so that he could hold Scootaloo's hoof while they walked out of the hospital, but alas, he was tall, he still loved being tall, and he know had a little sister, and holding her hoof as they walked out of the hospital wasn't actually a good reason to want to be shorter at all, in fact, he apologized to his body after he'd thought about what'd he'd almost wished upon himself.

He tried to justify his acceptance of the little filly in his mind, trying to think that he was compensating for losing his own sister, Jamie, but with each passing second, he felt closer and closer to Scootaloo, almost as if she was his daughter, but with a disproving-sized age gap, she was definitely his little sister. Besides, he would have never, EVER gotten a woman, or much less a mare, pregnant, back when he himself was only sixteen, assuming Scoot was ten years old, which the paper he had signed proclaimed.

She sat perched on his shoulder, looking cute like a blue jay or a hummingbird, but awesome like an eagle or a hawk.

Applebloom and Sweetie Belle had been waiting for them outside, they had even brought Scootaloo's scooter with them.

"Scoot! Jackson!" they chanted as the pair approached, the latter kneeling down to let the former off of his shoulder.

He felt his heart melt at seeing the three little fillies hugging, it was cute, it was so cute that it shouldn't have existed, but it did, and it was absolutely and heart-meltingly adorable beyond belief.

"Alright, towards ADVENTURE!" the man announced, beginning to march off.

"AND CUTIE MARKS!" the trio added, giggling at the man's silliness and taking off after him.

~Some time later~

Night fell, and two things struck Jackson's mind.

1) He had no place to stay at night, no house and out of the hospital.

2) Did Scootaloo have any family? if she did then why did he sign that brother paper?

Now that they were alone, he felt it was a good time.... well, there wasn't really ever a 'good' time to ask somepony if they had any family or not, but this seemed like the 'least bad' time to ask.

When the question was voiced, the orange pegasus stopped smiling immediately, getting a little frown on her face and sniffling.

"Oh, oh my, I'm sorry," he apologized, instantly seeing that he had struck a nerve.

"I.... *sniff* I don't like to talk about my parents," the little filly sniffled, on the verge of tears.

"Oooooh.... well, I think that I need to be the knife to cut open this wound and let the poison drain out, are they dead?" he asked, wincing a bit when his little sister's frown changed.

It changed from frown of sadness to a scowl of rage, "No, they're worse they're..... how should I put this?..... They're abusive assholes. I hate them, hate them, hate them so much, my dad once whipped me on the neck, I nearly choked to death, they constantly fight, my mom says that I have a future as a prosti.... pro.... prositudor, or something. I don't understand that one a whole lot, why is it bad to be a court pony? And why does she say that courts happen on street corners?" she asked, truly not understanding what her mother had said.

Jackson thought on it, and soon enough realized that this mysterious mother had meant something much worse, and he hated the unknown mare for that. Who in the hell tells a little girl they're destined to be a prostitute? "Tell me more, I want to know how badly I have to hurt these assholes, use whatever words you think are best," he allowed, needing more than just a pair of horrible habits.

"Well, my dad, Frame Tie, is an old fat bastard, he smokes and puts out his smoke-things on my coat, on my hooves, even one time on my nose, and even on my wings. He always blames my mom, Red Gate, for cheating on him when they had me, because he's a unicorn and mom's an earth pony. They try to peg ownership of me onto each other, like I'm a bad rash or some shit. Gate criticizes and yells at me for everything, even if I do it her way, she still yells, and nags, and whines, and bitches, and it's all a bunch of bullshit. All I want is some princess-damned love from my family, not tartarus in a box," she was raging now, jumping off of Jackson's shoulder and flapping her wings to slow her descent, she walked over to an empty construction crate and bucked it as hard as she could, causing a huge crack in the wood.

"Don't worry, Scoot, I'll take care of you, you'll never have to go home to their bitching again. We're gonna have a good life, okay?" he offered, squatting down and holding out his fist.

They bro-hoofed, dried Scootaloo's eyes, and went off to find a place to stay.

Jackson had no home for staying in and no money for the 'Stay Inn', so they were quite fucked in that aspect.

Luckily, video games had taught him to trust in building structure most of the time, and he pulled off a few lucky parkour moves and got onto a rooftop.

The straw-thatched roof was surprisingly sturdy, and the cool air made it feel soft, if quite itchy, luckily he was covered almost all over his body and stayed still when asleep.

Laying out his duster to provide a pillow, the two embraced and drifted to sleep, feeling warm, safe, and loved.

~Some time later~

For almost a month this roof-top residence went on, neither of them were suspected of being homeless, and being off the ground kept them clean from dirt most of the time.

The warrior finally managed to snag a job, as a police officer no less, and gained access to the large station's facilities.

These facilities included all the house-stuff, kitchen, bathroom, a comfy bedroom for four, in case anypony needed to stay late, three cells on either side of one of the hallways, and there was a decent sized group office, the front desk in the small lobby, a shower room, and an armory.

The siblings stayed at the station, paying their 'rent' in the form of Jackson being an officer and upholding the law.

The man had found out that crime was a lot more common than he thought, even during his time in Canterlot, he hadn't visited many areas that had frequent criminal activity, and Ponyville had plenty of law-upholding to do.

The armory was sufficient as a 'closet' and allowed him to access his storage inventory.

The Dedication shirt was replaced with the Peacekeepers' shirt, which required that the front of his hoodie be open, at least most of the time, in order to display his authority.

This position had also required that he learn the local laws, which he did, and the first thing he did when he got the job was get himself and his sister a shower.

*scree-eeeee-ka-ka* went the knob as he turned on the water, standing back from it and testing it with his hand.

Most people would find it awkward, standing there, naked, in a shower, with your little sister, and she's a pony, but he didn't care about any of those factors, he just wanted to get clean.

Scootaloo sang while she scrubbed her big brother's back, being careful when she saw a large black marking marring his light skin, though she chose not to bring it up.

Jackson returned the favor and washed his little sister's wings, the two of them were singing completely different songs as the water cleansed their bodies.

It was nice, the shampoo soothing their scalps, the gentle scrubbing removing all the grime they had collected from a whole month of sleeping outside, the words of their songs lifting their spirits.

The noise of the water was, rather ironically, drowned out by their focus on familial connection, so much so that they didn't notice that another pony had come in, even whenthey spoke up.

"You've been in here for half ah hour, g-.... er.... congratulations," Rule Book coughed awkwardly, mentally slapping herself for sounding so stupid in front of the rookie, walking out and returning to her front desk, contemplating what she had just seen.

She had seen Jackson naked, never mind the fact that he had his little sister with him, don't care that he was a co-worker, the rookie at that, all she cared was that, dear Celestia, the guy was like a gallows-master with how much he hung.

The human was currently busy hugging his little sister, feeling not only a familial connection, but a deep friendship that was strengthened by the metaphorical fires they had experienced.

They split off when they realized they had spent far too long bathing, and in less than a few minutes they were out, dried, and McCard was dressed.

Jackson notified Rule Book that he would be back for the continuation of his training after the little one was dropped off at school.

The mare absentmindedly nodded, deep in thought and drooling slightly.

~Some time later~

The Schoolhouse was within view, and Jackson saw nopony within the fenced-off area of the school, "It looks like you're late," he noted.

"I know, I'm sorry," Scootaloo apologized, a bit embarrassed at such a mistake.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to your teacher, this is, you said it's the first day back after.....?" he trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"After Thanksgiving, which was Sunday, you got into town Monday, so you just barely missed the holiday itself," the filly answered, picking up the pace to the schoolhouse.

"Alright, you take care, and apologize to your teacher," the tall man had stopped walking and called out to his now-galloping sibling.

She looked back and gave a nod before returning to her running.

Jackson sighed and began jogging back to the station, thinking about how much this current job paid.

Now he was thinking really hard, what was the state of the economy?

*creeeeeaaak, click* went the door as he walked in, seeing a gruff-looking stallion standing in the middle of the room, looking over a few papers.

"*ahem* Chief," he guessed, piquing the scarlet pegasus' interest.

"Yes, rookie?" he asked, his voice like a stern father.

"I'm awaiting the next part of my training, sir," the tall man informed politely.

"Right, aaaaaand?" the chief queried, looking at the human like he was asking something really stupid.

"Will, I... get to the next part of my training, sir?" the burnt-brunette asked, feeling awkward for having to ask such a thing.

"Hold on, rookie, I'm overlooking your performance record for evaluation, if you're going to be an enforcer of the law, you'll need to have the right skills, I'm seeing promising results from the tests, I just need one last thing, the truth," the chief said, lifting his head to reveal his horn, flared up with magic.

"What do you mean, chief?" McCard was getting worried, did they not trust him? He had been required to fill out the fields himself, which meant actually testing himself on things like 'dark vision capabilities' and 'character judgment', which he had to get resourceful to accomplish.

"Call me Justice Star, follow me to my office," the scarlet unicorn led the jade-eyed man to the group office,

The two sat on opposite sides of the farthest desk, Jackson peered around at the other desks, seeing several files strewn about, but taking care not to read them. The chief stared at him for what felt like half an hour, before saying, "Mister McCard, would you like a donut?" he offered, Jackson felt that he was sincere, and accepted.

"Since you're offering, sir," the warrior accepted as politely as possible, plucking one of the circular treats from the box, a chocolate iced one, watching the chief take one as well.

"Good job, you were able to see that I was being sincere in my offer, now time to be truthful in my interrogation. When I say I want the truth, I mean that I'm going to cast a spell called 'True or True', which will prevent you from lying to me for about an hour, what I'm looking for is an explanation to these results, and I need you to trust me enough to cast this spell on you, do you trust me?" the stallion asked, his eyebrow cocked.

"Yes sir, I trust you," the man said, tilting his head forward.

The chief didn't say anything as he cast the spell, the sensations produced in Jackson's head made him feel uncomfortable and naked.

"Alright, we'll start from the top, name?" the chief began.

"Jackson McCard."

"Race?"

"Caucasian."

"Hmm, I'm still not sure what that means, but okay. Now that the easy part is over, I'm going to move onto something much different, here's a copy of your form, now, I'm going to read your answers, and whatever answer I read, I want you to explain what you meant by it, alright?"

"Alright."

"Weapons, chases, and interrogation?"

"I have several self-furnished armaments. I tested myself in a one hundred meter dash, and of my many runs, the range of times was between fifteen and twenty one seconds. I interrogated a good friend of mine without their knowledge, and received a six-to-one ratio of correct answers."

"Okay, next question......"

..........

~Some time later~

Jackson was feeling good, he had been accepted as a full-blown police officer, and decided to celebrate with a stroll through the streets.

A detour through the poorer districts found him listening to the occasional coughing fit, and then he heard the sound of glass getting broken.

Spinning around and looking through an alleyway, he found somepony slowly climbing into the side of a house.

He ran over and grabbed the scruff of their neck, pulling them out of the window and into the alley, raised to the tall man's eye level and smacked across the face.

"OW, what was that for, you... thing!?" the dirty stallion demanded, rubbing his cheek with a hoof.

Jackson didn't say a word as he unzipped the small portion of his hoodie that had been zipped up and threw it open, revealing his Peacekeepers' shirt.

"Oh shit, you a pig!" the criminal pony tried to run away while still suspended two feet above the ground.

The warrior-turned-officer chuckled as he jogged back to the station with the stallion in tow.

Less than a minute later, he passed by the somewhat shocked looking chief and roughly threw the attempted-burglar into one of the six cells, locking the door tightly.

"Wow, that was fast, your first bust, what was it for?" Justice asked, incredulous at the human's speed.

"Attempted burglary, I pulled him out of a window that he was halfway through climbing into. I could tell he was going to be breaking the law, because he broke the window to get in, and when I showed him my officer's shirt, he called me a pig, so he was up to something," the burnt-brunette recapped.

"Good job, rookie, keep this up and I might pay you early for doing so well," the chief chuckled, though Jackson could tell that he was at least partially serious, "Alright, get on out there again, you're on the clock," he said suddenly, pointing to the door.

Jackson gave a chuckle and walked outside again.

~Some time later~

Deciding to deviate from his path, the officer walked the path out of town, vowing not to take more than a few minutes since he had to remain diligent and vigilant.

He saw a large structure in the distance, it looked like an oddly constructed house.

Getting closer, he found that it looked like something that one would build in Minecraft, with meter-thick walls, though the windows were the same standard that all of the houses in Ponyville had, the door was wood and had no windows, though it seemed a lot sturdier when viewed in what was technically Jackson's real life, about five inches thick, a quite heavy, though it had a lock.

Pushing the heavy oaken door open, he walked inside and was greeted with a modest room.

A decent sized table on a white brick floor, probably quartz bricks if he remembered the updates correctly, the counters each had cabinets, a crafting table laid next to a row of furnaces, a large chest in the corner, a fridge on the back wall.

The whole thing was lit by redstone lamps, it was surreal, and if Jackson couldn't look outside and see the Equestrian colored fields of grass, he would say that he had stepped into Minecraft itself.

A faucet on a sink surprised him, it drew from a source, because he could turn it on, but it couldn't have drawn from Ponyville's water supply, as there was no way any pipes ran from here.

A trapdoor led into a decently sized basement, with more redstone lamps lighting it, a few levers on the walls controlled them, with redstone seemingly infused into the stone bricks that made up the subterranean walls.

A large, windowed, iron tank in the corner caught his eye, a two-by-two source of Minecraft water was inside, along with a lava chamber for hot water.

Whoever had built this system, this whole house, seemed to know how to take advantage of the transition from Minecraft physics to Equestrian physics.

Many more chests lined the walls, and a bit of pilfering found him a chest full of gravel, a few blocks of iron and stacks of stone with some wood and saplings in another chest, a pimped-out chest with nothing more than four blocks of gold and one block of obsidian in it, and a mostly broken diamond pickaxe in another chest. The other chests were empty.

Picking up the pickaxe, his Fuser-Odahviing ring started glowing, turning sandy tan, then teal, before disappearing.

Your Fuser-Odahviing ring has mysteriously magicked away, leaving you with no rings Skyrim's Minecraft easter egg, the Notched Pickaxe, you feel warm inside and your spine itches, perhaps you've been infused with the ring's powers?

*duh-nah-nah-NAH~*

You got: the Notched Pickaxe

This tool-turned-weapon can break any stone material ever, except the infamous bedrock, and has the power to store lightning for later use. The notch that it was named for seems to be an indent on the side of the head. The indent appears to be a square apple with a large portion of the center carved out.

This item caused the loss of your Fuser-Odahviing ring, ever since losing ring, your spine itches and you feel warm inside.

The gamer ran up the stairs and to the second floor, he had spent long enough in this area.

The upstairs held four rooms, one guest, two side, and one master, the same setup with levers and redstone lamps lit the place up, as well as windows placed far away from the beds, to prevent sunlight from being a bitch. All four rooms had a bed, a bedside table, a chest, and a wardrobe, which he tested and confirmed to be a sufficient for 'armor/clothing inventory' as he came to call it.

He walked downstairs and outside, once out again, he took in the large house again, and looked up to see a sign above the door, which read:

Vacant, for sale,

free to take, I'm

helping you.

Enjoy - Curtis S.

Jackson silently thanked his old friend for fucking reality and building this wonderful house here. He took the sign off the outer wall and watched the words change to what he willed them to, was it really that easy to write on the sign?

It now read:

McCard Residence

Welcome, Cause no trouble

Wipe your feet/hooves

Knock before entering.

Satisfied, he ran back to town, having spent far too long out here.

~Some time later~

Several more incidents happened that day, varying in intensity, but Jackson was riding high after finding that mysterious house and claiming it for his own,

He brought the scooter with him when picking Scootaloo up from school, and began leading her to the station, because as amazing as the mystery Minecraft house was, he still needed to inspect it with what few skills he had picked up from his old friend Kevin.

Closing the door to the large officers' bedroom, he sat on the bed and brought out his guitar. He was getting good at using his will to summon things.

"So, that song you sang this morning, Scoot, sing it again," he asked as he began strumming.

"Well, I like singing that song to pick me up whenever I'm sad, or really make it last whenever I'm happy, so I'll sing," she agreed.

She sang, her somewhat boyish voice sounding a bit odd, but it was a nice song.

When it was over, both of them smiled.

"So, Scoot, I want to know something, what is your dream breakfast?" the older human asked in a gentle tone, wanting to put Dalton's cooking lessons to good use.

"Ooh, um, blueberry pancakes, grape juice, a plate of haycon strips, and... uh... some ice cream?" the little pegasus listed.

"How much of what kind of ice cream?" this was an important question.

"Um, a bowl... of chocolate ice cream," she extrapolated, trying to think of anything else.

"Is that all?" he asked, mentally recording her answers.

"Um....... yeah, that's all," the violet-maned filly answered, satisfied with her dream.

"Alright, now, listen, it's not today, but it'll be someday soon that you'll get that dream breakfast, because as a filly as awesome and cute as you, you deserve it, and with a big brother as cool and badass as me, you'll get it," he assured, ruffling her mane.

Scootaloo didn't say anything, she just yawned, curled up into a little fuzzy ball, and drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Jackson looked down at her, then thought about the mysterious house, he knew that she would love it

In the land of the asleep, he dreamed of the actor Samuel L. Jackson for some reason, then it shifted to a few black youtube stars, and then to Morgan Freeman, who narrated his dreams and brought him internal peace for a time.

Whatever happened, he would take the blows to protect his little sister, because she had been through enough shit already.