Ch 1 Questions and empty bottles
In the corner of a run down bar in the slums of New Ponyville, two Stallions sit drinking and chatting. The larger of the two, a chocolate colored workhorse with a black mane named Wrought Iron looks on sadly as his smaller counterpart, a Gray Unicorn with a close cropped silver mane finishes off another drink. "Shockpoint...you have to stop doing this." Wrought Iron states, taking another sip of his own drink, "If you keep this pace up you'll be dead in a week." The silver maned unicorn, after ordering another drink looked toward his concerned friend with eyes like ice cubes. "I don't need to remind you that you were the one that told me all the answers are at the bottom of the glass,"Shockpoint states in drunk annoyance. After finishing his own drink Wrought Iron simply looked at his friend with tired eyes, "you're right I did say that and I meant it." By this time Shockpoint's next beverage had arrived and he had slid his recently emptied glass into a pile of 6 others. "But I didn't tell you to come to this same dinky little bar every night for a week, did I?" Hearing this, Shockpoint's shoulders slumped a little and Wrought Iron can barely make out a reply from his friend. "Look at yourself shock, six shots in, two bottles empty, and all you have to show for it is empty glasses and bottles." Seeing that Shockpoint was not going to speak of the subject anymore, with a sigh Wrought Iron changes the conversation. "Found a job yet?" He asks pushing his shot glass into his collection of two. "I'm working on it." Is the only reply he receives. It had been two years since all these problems started, and slowly Wrought Iron watched as his closest friend slid into an ever worsening depression.
Like Wrought Iron himself, Shockpoint served in the Equestrian Colonial Governments Attack Fleet, Shock as a captain of a vessel, and Wrought as an Engineer. During one conflict over the moon of Asperas, Shockpoint's ship was completely destroyed, and a third of his crew went with it. Shockpoint himself received a crippling injury that resulted in the loss of his left Foreleg, his problems only worsened after the prosthetic arrived. Shortly after arriving back on Equestria, Shockpoint was dishonorably discharged for the loss of his ship, ECG property, and was left with nothing. But by far the greatest blemish on this once happy stallion's life, was the injustice done unto him by his own marefriend. Arriving at home, tired and sore, Shockpoint found, in his own bedroom, his marefriend sleeping with a Flyboy straight out of boot. Wrought Iron was the one who came and vouched for Shock when he was almost arrested for attempting to throttle the kid, and it was Wrought who brought a broken and weary Stallion to his home that night for well deserved rest. And now, here they both sit, Shockpoint drinking his sorrows away, and Wrought Iron watching helplessly. "You said that the last time I asked too." Wrought Iron pointed out rolling his eyes. Shockpoint still enjoying his seventh shot shrugs the rebuttal away, "And I meant it last time too, in case you haven't noticed Wrought, there's a Resource Depression going on, so jobs are at an all time low." Finishing his seventh shot Shockpoint pushes it away and lowers his head onto the cold, scratched, and dimpled metal table, appreciating the coolness on his forehead.
They sat in silence for awhile after the glasses were taken away, Shockpoint cooling his boiling head on the table, and Wrought Iron watching his friend stumble deeper. An hour passes and Wrought Iron gets up and pays the tab, before leaving he turns to his moping friend and speaks one last time. "Shockpoint, I can't tell you what to do, but you and I both know that drinking yourself to death won't help anyone, least of all you." With no reply of agreement or annoyance Wrought Iron continues, "You're letting a couple bad hands dealt to you ruin your life man, and it needs to stop." With no response at all, Wrought Iron decides it's time to get his drunk of a friend home, after struggling to remove him from the bench and guiding him to Wrought's Aircar, they take off and leave the dinky little bar in the dust. The ride to the Mareinni Towers apartment complex was even less invigorating then the previous conversation at the bar, it was mostly made up of Wrought Iron continuing to preach to Shockpoint about getting a job and leaving his depression behind. With the occasional grunt of mock agreement and slurred whatever's, the conversation ended with Shockpoint stumbling out into the street outside of Mareinni Towers, and Wrought Iron speeding off without another word. Shockpoint stood there a few minutes longer, he wasn't sure if he was watching the tail lights of Wrought's Aircar speed off, or simply waiting for his world to stop spinning so he could walk semi correctly into the apartment's lobby.
Upon entering the apartment lobby, Shockpoint began a well practiced weekend ritual of his. He had long since mastered the ability to get from the front door of the apartment building to the elevator in his drunken stupor. Last weekend he was even able to press the correct floor button with his hoof, and tonight was no different. Shockpoint's apartment was on the Sixth floor, one of the more degraded floors In the complex, but it was all his minimum retirement salary could afford. It was at this point that things got difficult, finding apartment number Sixteen he activates the door pad, punches in his code and waits. The rusted, and exposed gears grind and whine in protest at having to move and slowly the pneumatic door beings to rise, but then jams after only rising a few feet. Living in this Apartment for 2 years after losing his home in Canterlot, Shockpoint learned that certain things in "New" Ponyville need a special touch in order to work. So after bucking the door guard twice and cussing like the spacer he was, the door finally opens to it's full height. With the tedious task of opening a door out of the way, Shockpoint slowly makes his way into his two room, one bathroom apartment. In the left hand side room rests a simple bed with worn sheets, a nightstand for Shockpoint's clock, a small HoloTV, and a dresser. The opposite room is comprised with the Kitchen, taking up most of the space with a countertop, dirty fridge, and equally dirty oven. On the opposite side of the room facing the oven is a simple washer and dryer, planning ahead of himself fresh cloths are already laid out for Monday morning. After depositing his previous days clothing Shockpoint trudges his way into the bedroom and falls onto the bed, ready to sleep away the buzz of Sunday night's drinking, and dreading what new experiences Monday will bring him.
