Pleasured Viscera: Whispers Beneath The Boards

White, sterile walls met our resting station. Lily watched the fireflies dance, only admiring their cindered composition. Each passed and hovered, traversing the windows open and free. To her right, right of me to see the breezy night the sleepy dark stayed so stark like lark's hark to journeys embarked. Somewhere by our bed, so stiff and puffy like rank and file cushions, an angel rest. Though her legs didn't lay and bend, I knew her logic. Us equines weren't meant to sit, or lay. In-fact, it was healthier to stand asleep. She smiled ever-so-blissful, studying our many complexities. Nasal, optical and even our bandaged, wine-kissed injured regions. Lily, sweetest leech, grinned her crooked grin, like Cheshire among the night.

"Hmmm... How come you smile like that, Dollie? Why don't you shine, not glow." Octavia inquired, her own expression half-easy and cozy.

Were there godkings in Equestria. Celestia, Luna; they were nothing to that sentinel. I watched her eyes brush my cheeks, followed by wispy cigarette smoke. Her lips pursed a gentle, resting sort of angle, seeping grey in nightly sway. Another bottle at her hooves, just a whiskey in comfort's song. Lily, grinning still, let her sleaziness turn to innocence.

"A long time ago, these two ponies roughed me up for bein' different. I was barely twelve, so, I wasn't good enough yet. They were big, raw fellas that tossed me around and smacked my face. I curled in' a ball after ten or so minutes before they started kickin' my spine. And, after they spit on me, I tossed em' out the window." My flower relayed, looking down every few, happy seconds.

"Needless to say, I got some injuries. Facial paralysis and permanent nervous damage. Crooked smile used to wax, not wane. But, don' matter to me. Still gets the job done."

I saw her heart break, but, mend so inescapably quick. Octavia, haunting melody, sung her silent sympathy. It rung tense and ashen like horse-hair bows on haunting strings. A single, lip-scrunched smile met her daze and maybe, just maybe, we were sisters of different planes.

"It does, doesn't it... You're still charming as ever, little Dollie. Just- tell me one thing, though? A mare like you could settle down and have a saddle-mate. Is there a reason you, say, don't look for one?"

A cool, autumn gasp passed her associate. Her friend pink and feral among Octavia's bow-tied fingerboard. Our eyes did sink and watch the shores heave.

"I... I dunno. When we think of 'love' we think of pain. I don't know why, but, someone hurt us. Her hair was long when we first met. And, my archives don't capture her; the only thing we remember is 'sinking'. Sleeping limp and weak like we were angels without wings. Maybe, like you, Aunt Octavia." Lily hushed, wistful and staring down.

The tiles were lovely, dark and deep. Checkers. Black and white, so to never mix and meet among the sleep of great souls sweeping and steeply so below the wild shine of cosmos young and old. Equinity. Humanity. Were we blotches of white or black. Did we never see eye to eye, like we should; was that good?

"Oh, you... Rest your tired eyes, Dollie dearest. You should find somepony. Maybe, a mare with money and heart. That way, you can love her and not worry about the nagging issues. Nothing like fighting over a meal, or talking about your child's college fund. We can make that work, little flower." My friend whispered, cupping my dollish, rounded chin.

Though I felt a rush of red, we knew we were separate. Platonic. If I ever mounted her, she'd let me and melt, but never kiss or promise. Was everything so sweet, or bitter and sticky.

"Precious, little Dolley. Look at me, okay? Not the checkers. You might like them, but, they're bad for you." Octavia beckoned, gaining our full, optic lust.

We were rigid, little mannequins. I felt the wind whistle and glide our ruffle-prone coat. Peachy porcelain. White wraps over our forelegs and all over our flank, then rear. The other pieces, up and near, were untouched. My face, amazingly, still lacked a scar. Though I'd been cut, bitten and clawed to no end, Lily's features were smooth and washed. Did we heal automatically, or, were we regenerating parasites. Feed and feed till bones ran dry. Maybe, Lily whispered, touching noses with spring-time Octavia. Her lip did quiver a gentle brush, timid and letting her mouth gape. We stared ice-to-crystal, Lily sleepy; aunty thumping.

"Do you know my name, aunty...?"

"N-no, I... only know Lily. You're Viscera, aren't you?"

"... No," We spoke as one, breathing deep her lilac scent.

"I'm Lily... Lily Viscera. Subject 86338; kitten and sleeper. I love you. But, I won't tie you down and make you mine. You're my family. My blood. Let me have you..." Lily murmured, parting muzzles to light a cancer.

She didst protest that activity, watching the embers glow puckered and eyes-up. The incubus mare let her lips tilt, pondering her care and passion. Did Octavia worry that much. A few smokes never hurt anyone. Not like bullets or booze. So, why panic at her long-since obsession with feeling wired and serene. Octavia slid her forehoof right-to-left, examining dense shoulder musculature. Then, as Lily watched the sunrise, kissed her cut-littered lips. A thump crossed their chests and, though Octavia stuttered, her little Dollie suckled a royal's petal. Then, her tongue and lapping softly to mend their cores. Souls searching and safe with someone there. Two danced, holding hooves and breathing harsh, infecting one another musk and all.

Sweet Octavia pulled away, huffing and floor-gazed, crossing her legs.

"No... No, I can't- I don't..."

"Shhh... It's fine. You're family. You're mine and I'm your's. I won't make you do anything." The assassin hushed, stroking her graphite-black richness.

A knock parted our lips one, more time. It was someone else entirely. An officer, grey-coated and watching nothing but our walls, trotted in. Her uniform consisted of navy blues and sleek, silver wording. A mare with strange eyes and bubbly joy; a surefire miracle in that sinful town. She brought a grown somepony just young enough to study majors and minors. Cerise, sweat-styled curls bounced about in her tense, athletic form.

"Mom... I'm still thirsty."

"Oh hush, Scootaloo... You know what Brazen said. No more sugar till you're fully detoxified. And you still have ten more minutes~ Get a drink from the fountain, okay?" Answered her bubbly, blonde-haired mother.

Scootaloo, nearly a head taller than her wiser guardian, scoffed. In dense, wonderful frustration, she muttered 'but I want soda...'. And that, it seemed was her little catalyst for leaving. Mother was always right, the grey mare teased, mingling-lashes in sweet, back-handed smiling. Truly, Lily saw, they were bonded so deeply, nothing but truth passed their lips. Not one lie or foul-play, but rays dancing the fibers of day. Octavia guessed her guest, impressing with stressing of 'do sit down and have a chat?'

"Ditzy, you're absolutely adorable~ How do you stay so young? And- what's so important that you've come here all the way from Mini Gladius?" The angel delighted, drawing high, autumn-free chortles.

"I heard about Rich and had to come over. Almost got away, too, if it wren't for you. Plus, I moved to Mini Gladius because it's easier to get here, Octie. You're too nice, though. I can feel the age in my hips. Used to be I could wrestle drunks the size of oaks. Now, I'm washed-up and takin' Scoots on patrol." The officer reminisced, like some, sea-grizzled salt having her vacation in years.

The two angels, one cherub and one arch, embraced a warm, cheek-snuggled connection. And, after that minute-long resting, Ditzy rest with her daughter at attention. Both wore the exact, same uniform. Only, her young pride had darker circles about the eyes. A restless vigilant watching children cry and angels die. she met gaze with Lily. Lilith of the whispered boards, so to curiously stare and study. And, to her surprise, they studied each other.

Before she spoke, Octavia sipped a warm, flask-held coffee.

"I'm guessing you're here to inquire my last target?"

"Heheh~ Yup, that's me~"

"Well, my old friend- I can safely say Doughnut Joe will never poison again. The Coat and Crystal Pandemic is over. I know it's against your rules, but, you have Silver Spoon to thank. Her and... Lily over there." My angel elated, batting her lashes back, making my stained-glass stack piles of milk and honey above the pound-pace place of pony-on-pony.

A wash of hooves and so, Octavia cleansed my soul.