Imagery Practice?

by Brosefari

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Tragedy, Random, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 1244

This originally started as a character description or something for a commission but I liked where his introduction progressed and I might turn this into a story if I enough people like what I've done with my first pony related piece ever!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-25 14:42:21 UTC

Silver Shield

I grumbled and groaned when that damned morning sunlight beamed right in my green eyes. forcing me out of my sleep again. What bugged me this time was that it interrupted a pleasant dream, any other time would have been fine but in this dream, I was nine again and playing with my brother in my grandfathers rickety, old wasteland house. Those times were still fresh in my mind, the wind made the worn structure of that house creak and moan, the scent of old antique furniture and dust, the kitchen having a sort of metallic smell, and there my grandfather was every morning drinking his cider, "Well hey kiddo, you're up early." I sighed in the bliss of my nostalgia but of course, that dream was cut short because that dim hotel mare gave me a room with the window facing the sunrise every morning! I normally didn't mind, but this time it pulled me out of a good nights sleep and Goddesses know I need more of those. I harrumphed knowing that it couldn't be helped and threw the bed sheets off of me as I started my morning routines. I cantered over to my wardrobe and yanked the door open, grabbing my ranger gear and strapping the armor on.

I headed to my bathroom with a yawn and started smacking my lips, my face contorting in disgust from the taste of my own morning breath, "Ugh, it tastes like I kissed a ghoul." I washed my face in the sink and drank some of the water in a poor attempt to wash the foul taste in my mouth but the water was no help at all... great. I growled and turned the faucet off as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My red and black mane was as greasy looking as ever, that wasn't new though, and my silver coat was in need of a wash but it was hard when none of the water pumps worked anywhere in the mojave wasteland. I sighed and lifted a hoof to my scratchy looking muzzle, I was in need of a shave too, I never looked good with a five o'clock shadow. I rubbed my tired eyes and put my desperado cowboy hat on before I headed out the door. I walked by the check in office and tipped my hat to the nice mare through the window. She eyed the sequoia I had on my hip, but I don't think she cared much about the revolver, now that I looked at her more, I swear she was staring at my flank, "I'm probably too old for you honey." I mused and headed through the town to the bar. She looked to be about 19 and I was barely 30. I only had a day left until my 'retirement' was approved, well not necessarily a retirement, more like a forced resignation. I didn't gave a rat's ass, I was more upset about why I was basically being discharged. I was diagnosed as mentally unstable, like I was too harsh when it came to orders and what not, or the fact that I didn't flinch anymore when I sent a 30 cal through the skull of some fucked up raider. They called me 'the machine' because of my stone cold persona, but that's what came with my line of work. S ranked missions will do that to any pony, turn them cold, doesn't matter who the hell you were before. I did the work no pony could, I never asked for these missions, I was just good at getting them done and I still hate the name recruits have been spreading around, "Silver ranger." makes me cringe and sound like some glorified hero, none of the things I've done should be praised. I heaved a heavy sigh and pushed through the double doors of the bar. My name is Silver Shield, son of Banded Shield, and I'm an NCR ranger

I sat myself on a stool close to the bartender, "Toxic Sunrise. No ice. Oh, and one of the little slices of lime." I slapped my caps on the counter and the bartender cracked a smile. This was one of the reasons I liked it here, I was friends with the bar owner, "Sure thing Silver. Something wrong though? You look like shit." The glasses and bottles of booze glowed blue as the unicorn mixed and shook them in such a skilled way that I couldn't help but be impressed by the whole display. He never missed a single drop, "Thanks Citrus, you're uncanny ability to immediately make me feel worse always has me stumped." I answered and sucked on the lime he gave me to help with my breath, did a lot more than the water. I at least made Citrus laugh with my response, "It's nothing mate, just a rough morning." I sighed and downed the drink. Getting that burning sensation as the alcohol went down my gullet, it's potent effects already taking over. My lips pursed before I turned and rested my head on my hoof, I hated how my memories were interrupted... then again it might have been for the better, the more I thought about it, the more I remembered my dad and grandfather fighting. The two stallions always but heads, one stuck in his old was and the other believing that he was entitled to everything. Citrus must have been reading my body because I heard the soft clinking of a glass being set in front of me. I turned my head and saw a glass of water and my caps being hoofed back to me, "Drinks are on me Silver. Enjoy the rest of your morning." He said with an empathetic look before he cantered on over to the next patron that sat at the bar. I looked at the water and drank it gratefully, I needed this. The water trailed out of the corners of my mouth before I wiped my muzzle of the refreshing liquid, I sighed content and leaned back against the bar. I sipped more at the water and looked out of the filthy glass pane window. There was an unusual amount of mercenaries outside but that wasn't what concerned me, what caught my eye was the young looking unicorn stallion that was trying to talk to the mercenaries, he had a tan colored coat with a red bandanna hanging around his neck and an armored vault jumpsuit, he had a pair of goggles that covered his mane which  was a snow white and a slick gray. On top of it all, he was CLEAN! The buck was clean! No dirt, no grime, nothing. His looks even made the mercenaries wary, that or the little pills he was offering them, I squinted and leaned to try and get a better look to see if what I believed they were was true, he waved the little tablets around like he was trying to show they were the real thing. Was he a drug dealer? No, not a pony that was 'that' clean would have drugs. But I got a nice look at them and I was almost certain I knew what they were, those little pills were water purifying tablets. What in the hell? Did he not know the value of the item he was flaunting out in the open like some cheap scrap? Who the hell was this pony?