Button Stash

by Dash The Stampede

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Original Character, Apple Bloom, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2418

He walks alone, huddled over the console by day, over the wallet by night. Some peg him as a gamer. Some are not wrong. He indeed plays a game, but not the game you think...

Button 'The Stash' Mash is just like any other middle-schooler: nasally in voice, carefree in gait, and nose deep in his games.

However, he lives along the rules of a different game, one that covers more corners and fills more piggy banks than his classmates could ever comprehend. His Joy Boy may be the mark of his arrival, but none could see the face steeled in cold calculation behind the blips and beeps.

Button has his hooves all over Ponyville - and not just from being chased by dogs. His closest friend will come to see the true face of Ponyville's little gamer, and it will reveal a darker side to the idyllic fields of Ponyville...

Published 2014-11-03 12:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-03 12:30:02 UTC

The Game

Darkness...

The room was filled and yet, it was just as empty as the air within. The shadows danced in the flickers of starlight, the evening mist creeping across the fields and lawns unwaveringly. A crisp chill haunted the atmosphere, bringing shivers to the lone figure within. The ting of the bit coin as it flicked skyward from its catapult, the brown hoof catching and tossing the coin with the satisfying grate of metal on hoof. The colt in the shadows leaned forward, menacingly chewing on a hay sprig, his black sweatshirt absorbing what little light echoed throughout.

A snort, glancing to the watch residing upon his hoof, before facing the door once more and gulping down his sprig. He rummaged about his sweatshirt, the rustles of spent candy wrappers and the tingle of various values of bit coins echoing through his eardrums in the pervading silence, before coming up with another sprig. His chew satisfied, he sat back and tilted an ear to the door, allowing a small smile to grace his lips.

"Enter."

The gruff tone coming from his body shook the mare on the other side - her gasp revealing her identity. The door creaked open, a look of apprehension dawning on the face of the lovely earth pony as she crested the threshold into the realm of shadows. She looked up and began approaching the desk, the door sliding shut in finality, a click sounding from the lock. She took her seat before the colt, the bit having ceased its flight to rest atop his outstretched hoof. He leaned back, flicking a switch on the floor nearby, a soft light filling the room.

The mare gasped once more, the deep mahogany of the walls contrasting with the bright maple of the trim, a rough brown carpet adorning the floor. A small bed sat off to the side, its sheets impeccably straightened. A small flask sat atop the bureau, its contents unknown, an empty bottle of Valley Dew under the bed attesting to the possible inhabitant. Various candy wrappers and empty chip bags decorated the two trash bins in the room, the stench of cheese puffs and soda barely creeping through the sterile atmosphere. Bringing her eyes forward, Golden Harvest jolted in shock - the colt's face was shockingly close to hers, and she reared back in the chair.

"Do you have it?" a gravelly undertone rasped in his voice as he spoke, "The payment?" A hoof tapped a metronome on the desk, every click resounding in the mare's chest.

"I-I do. It...it's going to take another day to make up the forty, but I have your sixty!" The mare reached into her bags, shaking in fear as she dumped the contents of her coin purse on the desk. Five and ten-bit pieces fell from the pouch, clinking across the surface to the mildly-irritated face of the colt as his eyes bore a hole straight into her brain.

"I require the full hundred, missus Harvest. Memory cards don't pay for themselves, you know..." He trailed off, reaching under the desk to grab a combat shotgun, the wildly orange implement rising to face Harvest, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks instantly. The weapon cocked with a menacing ratchet of plastic and metal as the mare turned and ran, a slew of "I'm sorry"'s following her thundering hooves. Silence soon shrouded the room in its ambiance again, the shadows reclaiming what had been lost as the door slowly shut, the colt fading into the shadows once more.

"The Stash will have his due..."

"Hey, Apple Bloom! How was your night?" The nasally voice of Button Mash pierced the veil that morning held over the filly's head as she shook awake, glancing at the desk on her right.

"Ugh...Button! I'm tryin' to nap here!" Apple Bloom whisper-whined, her drool trail becoming intimately acquainted with her fetlocks as she wiped away the wetness of the rest. "I barely slept at all! Big Mac an' Applejack were arguing somethin' fierce, I tell you what. I'm pooped!" Head met desk in an age-old student's attempt to silence the insanity creeping into their minds.

"I didn't sleep at all! I went to war with the distant civilizations of Gral' Klar, fought the demons of Headstitch Hospital, raced the constellations of Pandromeda, extorted a mare, and drank an entire bottle of Valley Dew!" The colt snickered, tittering in his seat as the overdose of sugar forced its way through his veins. Apple Bloom looked at him in disinterest, waving away his goading.

"I ain't one-a-them gamin' types, Button. I betcha Scootaloo could talk you up the wall about those!" She pointed over her shoulder to the filly in question, her wings buzzing as she scribbled vague representations of Rainbow Dash and her soaring through the clouds. To any observer, it may as well have been two potatoes in space, to the imaginative, the remnants of a hard acid trip.

"Well, I do play a different game..." Button whispered, passing a glance at the chalkboard, where Cheerilee was scratching away the mathematical equations. "I could show you sometime, if you'd—" The shrill ring of the bell drowned out the rest of Button's words as he covered his ears, diving under the desk. "UMD INBOUND!"

The bell's toll ended shortly thereafter, Apple Bloom's hoof poking Button, who was cowering beneath the desk. He looked up sheepishly and dug himself out from the mess of metal tubes. "What's a you-em-dee?" Bloom tilted her head, Button waving her off nonchalantly.

"It means 'Unicorn of Mass Destruction', but of course, I wouldn't expect you to know TCBA protocol nor the handbook of the Solar Scout." Button retrieved his Joy Boy from his bag, starting for the door, Apple Bloom in tow.

The pegasus' body slammed into the locker, the clash of shoulder and steel echoing through the gym's changing room; a pained wheeze followed shortly after. The colt's would-be assailant's brown hooves locked onto his shoulder, bringing him face to face with the calculating menace of The Stash. The door of the locker opened, and papers fluttered about their hooves, pens and pencils scattering about. Beads of sweat dripped from the pegasus' forehead, his eyes darting about for an escape futilely. His wings sagged, and he sighed; a deep, heavy thing, shaking with the regret of a criminal.

"Alright, Stash. I'll pay up. I'll pay up." Rumble groused, digging in his saddlebags for his coin pouch, tossing the entire thing into Stash's hooves. The clink of change brought a friendly smile to Stash's face, a small container of herbs passing hooves, stored away where none would find. Rumble backed out of the room, reluctant fear etched into his features, quickly being overcome by the excitement of the coming night. The Stash retreated into the shadows, his hoofsteps disappearing into the cackles of his rasp.

"Of course you'll pay up. They always do. Quality comes at quality price, every gamer knows that."

Button plodded homeward bound, the Cutie Mark Crusaders having sped off—minus one. Apple Bloom trotted alongside Mash, her mane bobbing as she trotted carefree. Button's gait held more rigidity than Canterlot's social rules. His face twisted in thought, contemplating his next move, the next play in The Game. He could envision the Joy Boy Pro, its sleek edges and saccharine shine glazing his eyes over with lust, drool leaking from his lips. It was finally within his grasp, if only he could find the next 'opponent'.

"So, are you goin' ta do Cheerilee's homework?" Bloom asked, her own paper growing rather moist from her mouth clamping down over it.

"Dunno. Game later. The Game now. Must twist some strings, tap some buttons, thrive." Button rambled, approaching silence as his thoughts took over for his mouth.

"Ya keep mentioning 'The Game'." Bloom scrunched her muzzle in thought. "It don't sound like your usual games, Button. What was it you said ta me in class?"

"I said...I said I could show you the Game. But it's a path you can only choose once. No extra items, no save points, just straight, hard playthrough. It's a game that brings out the worst in some and the best in few, so think wisely." Button nodded sagely, hooves pressed together like a genie. He shook his head in the direction of his home, the duo having come to the intersection before Sweet Apple Acres. "Come with me, and I show you the Game. Head home, and the Game will never be a worry to you again. Your call." Button steeled his hooves, determination set in his eyes.

Apple Bloom nickered nervously, her hooves playing with invisible string on the floor, gazing up at Button's face. 'He's been acting strange all week...' A moment passed. "I'll come. No funny business, Mash, and you know what I mean by funny." Bloom frowned, moving to follow Button as the colt turned for downtown.

Rows upon rows of houses rose from the horizon, scraping across the pristine sky with their thatched heads, the symbol of early industrialization taking hold in Ponyville's rustic environment as well. They marched past a cottage that looked fit to collapse, before coming to the abode Button called 'Home'. It rose from the ground, two stories of stone-framed glory, the shingled roof glinting in Celestia's sun. The main gate opened to a scene of lush flora, the lawn a deep green and renewing wonderment at the surrounding properties' states. The front door swung open as the duo approached, Button's mother poking out from the kitchen.

"Button, honey? A couple stallions came by looking for you, I told them you would return by tonight. They seemed awfully upset about something, I sure hope you've been keeping your hooves to yourself, young stallion?" His mother sucked her teeth a few times, shaking her head.

"Yes, Mom!" Button bit back the sarcastic comment floating on his tongue, it wasted away to the depths of his mind. He made for the stairs, Apple Bloom in tow, and the duo soon crossed the threshold into Button's room. His bed remained where it had been last, the furniture had shifted a bit, and the huge oaken desk had a few more dents and dings than the last time Bloom remembered. She filed the thought away, turning to watch Button hop right into his closet, dragging out a massive chest, the padlock on the front bearing three different enclosures and knobs to open them. With the swiftness of a Space Cheetah, he undid the locks, the chest opening up and revealing...

Apple Bloom could not believe her eyes.

*****

"Huh."

Apple Bloom's brain was as reliable as could be, the organ responsible for keeping her happily alive. It had chosen this particular moment, however, to shut down, rendering her dull to the brunt of the situation. The chest lay open before her, the hundreds of small containers holding a variety of materials, from herbs, to powders, to balms. The smell was overwhelming, her nostrils flaring as she cleared the stench from her mind. She felt slightly lightheaded from the whiff, her senses dulling further as a goofy grin slipped onto her face. The residual powders clung to the inside of the chest, and her hoof lazily stroked the chest.

"I told you it was different." Gravel. Apple Bloom could think of no better descriptor for the voice of the colt before her. "I am quite the gamer. I do enjoy my Joy Boy, and my video games, but it isn't enough, no. I can predict AI's, but I can't predict ponies. The rush I get from not knowing keeps me aloft til the next encounter, and each experience opens my eyes to the darker side of Equestria." The Stash slipped out of the facade of Button, the glare of cool contemplation striking Apple Bloom with a sense of longing. She yearned for the thrill, the hunt, the ability to truly throw things to chance! "I have seen things a colt my age should not, and I do not regret what I have done, only how I have handled it."

Apple Bloom's eyes sparked with the same intensity that burned beneath The Stash's gaze during a customer's 'collect call'. She reared up, planting her hooves on his desk and leaning close to the colt's face. "I want in."

Stash's glare switched to a pout of discomfort. "No."

"No?" Bloom gaped quizzically, raising a hoof. "But—"

"No, because you don't 'want' in, you earn in. You'll start from the bottom, move the product, return with the bits, and I restock you. The cycle repeats." The Stash glanced up, checking the filly's eyes for signs of defection, rebellion, or outright distrust, but found none. Apple Bloom fitted the pouch to her body, the straps cinching closed, and her jacket rejoining her body, covering the bag perfectly. "Your best bets are the playground after school, the alley behind Davenport's, or the Flower Child colony in the Whitetail Woods." Stash ushered the filly out of his room, her face setting with the realization that she was in way over her head. It had sadly struck too late to matter, as Stash closed the door behind Bloom with a click.

"I got it, Mash. All three hunnert of it!" The filly before him dumped a heavy sack atop the desk, the bits spilling over the sides and onto the rickety floorboards.

"Stash. The name is Stash. 'B' if you really must." Stash raked the bits into his saddlebags, the filly smiling a huge grin as he sent a small portion—forty bits—across the table to her. "Good job, Bloom."

Apple Bloom lifted her head. She had unwittingly gotten herself into the spider's web, and now she felt the strands tightening around her waist. Button had ensnared her, and like the true predator, he directed the machinations behind the scenes, ever tightening his web on those he worked with. As the reality of the situation sank in, she saw with enlightened eyes the truth of The Game. It was a nasty thing, exploiting ponies for their weaknesses to appease the needs of the wanting. Play it right, and you might trot away unscathed. Play it wrong...

...Well, there are only so many ways to wind up in a gutter.

Author's Note

A sort of serious take on the Button -ash fics as of late, one with a bit of delicious dark/noir taste to it. I hope you all enjoy.