Cosmic Breed

by BloodyBubblegum

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Romance, Science Fiction
Length: 5677

Something strange stirs from the depths of an old, abandoned church. It stirs and rattles the chains that bind until it is free.

After a long, well-deserved slumber, an ancient darkness wakes from it's dream state. Why it does, nobody knows; not even the one that woke it: Fluttershy.

Soon, it makes its way out of it's prison to fulfill a long-forgotten agenda.

It's mission is to spread it's virus and usurp Equestria with it's own species: a cosmic breed.

Contains: Biotechnology, emotional scenes, seduction that isn't really rape, group sex, daddy/little play probably, foalcon and cryptic plot development.

[Takes place in the Bubblegum Universe.

discontinued due to absence of original author.]

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-12 00:00:01 UTC

Priority: Non-Aggressive Sky Unit

An obnoxious grumbling solution the earth somewhere near the castle. Or, at least, in her ignorance, that's what Fluttershy assumed. They weren't at their cottage that time, nor did they ever want to be thanks to the events a year prior. Her daily schedule had morphed from tending the garden and her flock of mismatched animal friends to tending Twilight's courtyard.

She trotted through the lobby past the iron doors, turning her head every which way to find somepony. There had to be someone else that felt or heard or experienced the same quake as her. Wherever or whatever the reason it happened, she couldn't fathom an explanation. Earthquakes did not reach Ponyville. And Discord was not attacking because if he was, the sky would be looming masses of cotton candy dousing the earth with chocolate.

However frail she may have been, or however sensitive her overworked body may have been, she'd grown intrepid toward the shadows of the keep. Narry a day did she heed the warnings of the unmanned stations at the entrance of the basement, and more so did she ignore the fact that it was blockaded with a steel door not fourteen inches thick.

In her brief search for another face, she yelped as the keep broke into a tremor.

The most definitive noise, not even the rumbling or rattling of the chandeliers above, was the unmistakable hum of the basement entrance. That was the loudest, single most potent source of noise there. And without any worry, she undid the barrier beam just over the door and slipped inside.

Fluttershy's mane met tiny dust clouds loosened from the concrete ceiling. An odd discovery, she noted, wondering why the lowest floor's intregity relied on concrete rather than diamond or any other crystalline structure. She'd tripped over a few cords and cables on her way forward, dazed and somewhat loose in footing. Her nostrils were assaulted with the queer scent of potassium, plastic and something akin to nitrate, urging her to go deeper and find respite from the stark sharpness they carried.

Rumble. Rumble. Groan.

There it was again. She shambled over to a small closet area near the second turn, clicking the pressure pad forward. What she beheld in that darkness would never leave her.

It stood on two legs, scrounging for an answer to an unknown urge. An indiscriminate mess of various miscellaneous nothings coated the floor in jagged shapes and plastic containers. And though she wanted to turn away, flee to the ends of Equestria and legally change her name to Flower Smith, she was bound to the soil beneath her hooves. The anxious gravity collapsing her lungs and hindlegs would not dissipate.

And so too did her lagging mind comprehend it's form: a thin, pale human with a cassock caked in blood.

It gave pause and began sniffing.

Dear Luna.

An abrupt, joyous chuckling slipped past it's lips. And though she swore it's gesture was done to brittle her, it seemed entranced by her scent blaring in the dark. So it turned to face her, one eye closed and one bandaged to no end with gooey wraps. Beneath the eyes that needn't open to even consider her shape or form or expression was a soft, fang-heavy grin.

Fluttershy let loose a yelp as she backed into a broom.

And that was when it found her.

"O-oh no... N-nice Mr. Demon- Nice consensual sex... demon." She shook, stumbling backwards and falling on her haunches.

Oh shit.

Fluttershy whimpered as it stepped in and took hold of her hindlegs. The unspoken terror in her eyes was invisible to it's blind hunger. When it would stop or when it wouldn't do whatever ungodly things it did, nobody knew. She would be the first to find out. And already were her feeble limbs shaken with the same hopelessness as her watery corneas. So much so that her struggling resembled mild foreplay.

It panted against her muzzle and supported itself against the door behind her. It clicked shut and sealed her fate. The next thing she knew, her barren slit was tickling and stabbing with hot, prickling heat. Whatever size it was she hoped it couldn't get any thicker. An absurd volume of thick muscle forced her apart and drew a cry of shrill reluctance.

All she knew was how firm and decisive her rapist's ministrations were. They drove her forward inches at a time, sometimes pausing to grind the crown where it hurt, some times to taste how tight her marehood was. It leaned in and stole a kiss.

"W-wait-! No...!"

"F-fhhck..." Fluttershy whined, shivering deeply, desperate to curl up and shield herself from the onslaught of hot insertions.

No. She couldn't.

Pleasant heat struck the base of her lips as she felt herself clinging to her invasive mate. And though she bit her hoof in retaliation, she gasped as it pulled her forelegs away and pinned them to the door behind. Her soft flesh rippled and jumped every time it shoved inside. It left her lungs stabbing with anxious effort, forcing her to expose herself as it milked her cumpocket.

As much as she shut her eyes, it was harder harder to hide.

With a high bray, she thrashed as her hindleg jittered wildly. Fluttershy was losing her fight. From the way it kissed her cervix with countless coats of precum, to the way that same icky gunk melted her with throbbing tension, she groaned and managed to slip her hooves away.

Fluttershy did her best to shove her mate away, but it grew firm in handling her hips like handles. The human thing stuck it in and pressed their lips together, suckling her mouth muscle with its pharyngeal jaws. Her eyes winded and every inch of her body tensed. Fluttershy shrieked and fought to get it out of her; but as she jerked her body left and right she choked on her own breaths, grating her throat as it clapped deeper inside.

"Nmmmmhmmm! Stmmmhp...!" She whimpered, trembling wildly as her hooves curled sharply.

"N-nmmmhmm... nmmmhmhmm." She sobbed, burning bright red as she had her first orgasm in months.

It let her go and left Fluttershy a mess of shallow, stuttering gasps and aching flesh. She closed her eyes and rolled over, biting her hoof and letting it do what it wanted. There she could only attempt to make noise as it thumped her body back and forth. Forceful, staccato grunts and packets of air were stolen away with her body. A hard, squeaky cry echoed through the air as she collapsed forward, fidgeting everywhere as the monster yanked her tail and bred her.

"A-aaah no... No... You're not- You can't- I'm gonna pee-"

Throughout her core, all over her nethers and even in her cheeks, she was flooded with hot shame. How could anypony enjoy being used like a toy. Especially her. What would her friends say. She groped the dark around her for something to grab. Something to grip while she was taught to enjoy cock again.

"M-mmmmmh-! Nononono!"

Hot, shivering air blew out between her lips. A thick, painful ram stretched her cervix and forced her cum out. A series of vice-grip squeezes struck her body down there. It leased her femcum in narrow jets of breathless satisfaction. And as she creamed her mate's cock with her own special honey, she buried her muzzle whever she could. Then, she pressed her lungs empty in one, satisfied groan, shaking in odd intervals. Fluttershy could only lay there helpless to another helping.

"Uuuuuuuuhh..."

The thing on two legs held her forehooves as it mounted. It wasn't in, but the underside, bulging with a thick and pulsing cum vein, pressed between her folds. When her head was cranked softly to the left, her eyes went wide again. It stole another kiss. And another. And another. She glanced elsewhere with low, heavy lashes, indulging in something so baser and chemical as enjoying her desecration.

Her forehooves dug into it's cassock and she struggled to gain her breath. Every kiss, every inkling of spit they swapped kept her drugged down there. Whatever it was, the human thing drove her crazy. It wasn't as long as the last monster that took her, but it hit all the right spots and did all the right things to her body. Fluttershy barely realized she was fading out of consciousness. Instead, she slurred along with their makeout session, finally succumbing to yesterday's binge of Applejack Daniel's.

"Mnmmm... don't forget to wah her thm garhhm..."

Those words were all she could manage. He grinned softly in innocent amusement. Life sure was different than he remembered. The earth no longer harbored the stain that was mankind. Twas an entirely unique creature compared to Earth two centuries ago. Though he had much more to decipher, he decided to fulfill her post-coitus request and tend the garden. Surely no harm would come from watering a few petunias and local vegetables.

Carefully, with the utmost discretion in not leaving bruises or marks on his newest breeding mate, he carried her deeper into the den. There, the brood unit tucked her in and followed terran custom by placing a stuffed animal against her ar... foreleg.

The cool, moist air of the Chrysalis Den kept him subdued from any aggressive or mind-altering behavior. What happened earlier, he couldn't begin to understand. It was that stench clinging to her rich coat not an hour prior. Hopefully, no other equines or neighboring species were harboring the same scent.

Priority: Poofy Noisy Siren Unit and Polychromatic Sky Unit

He wiped the sweat from his brow, astonished at how thick that substances was. It was comparable to eome embalming fluid mixed with anti-inflammatory gel. Thankfully, he didn't have to sweat anymore and the mana flowers were all tended to. None of the shrubs were overgrown and not a fern or rose bush lay out of place. And as he set his shears beside the pliers, trowel and watering tin, he let loose a low, gutteral breath.

So yard work, utterly usurping the throne of Earth's dominant species and preparing for contact. There was... an immense work load towering over him.

When he pondered the rewards for completing his mission, however, he couldn't afford not to smile. Someday, they would all understand why. And when they did, their hybrid children wouldn't be born incapable or frail; they'd be soldiers and warriors and praetorians. Just as he strolled along the courtyard, he was subject to an obnoxious summons.

"Fluttershy...! Fluttershy?! Hey, Shutterfly! Where are those flowers you were supposed to get...!"

The tone was... raspy. Scratchy at the end of every word. Her voice brought fond memories of a place down south; one where tropical jungles and lethal wildlife blanketed the land in darwinism. There, he'd learned many things, but, perhaps the most important lesson was: be silent and keep cool under pressure.

So, like the ambassador he was, he sat quietly on a nearby bench. They would show him no harm. And even if they did, they'd be flooded with sodium just after. Waiting for contact entailed odd, jarring noises that he couldn't even begin to decipher. Something akin to cannon fire, an extended squeaking noise, some devil with shrill enthusiasm and the previous scratchy voice perked his interest.

"So I said: why would you sit on a cake?" The pink one posed, just around the curner and finally visible.

"I don't know; that is weird. I mean if you have french cream on an ice cream crumble then what's the point, you know?"

To his surprise, they froze on sight. What an odd species. Haven't they ever seen a man, or a human host before. He couldn't find a proper way to greet them, so he settled for a smile and a single wave over. He had trouble discerning what they were. They were equines with avian qualities and even traits of predatory species. Their widspread eyes were not atypical of dominant species, or apex predators in general. And their typically stocky frame was no exception from the list of advantageous traits of a long-lived race.

There they darted eyes betwixt him and one another. The rainbow pegasus buckled in her legs and struck her friend on the shoulder. For what good it could accomplish, he did his best to understand their frantic whispers.

"Pinkie...!"

"Ow! What!"

"Is that what I think it is?!"

"What- Oh you mean like Her?"

"Yes! What the hell is that thing doing here!"

"You think I know...! I can't believe we're having this conversation right now."

"Me neither... So how about you run away and I distract it?"

They clapped hooves and cheered in that same, amusing volume of barely audible speech, but so distinct a sound that it couldn't be ignored. And when the one called Pinkey sped around the corner, only to peak her head out in dangerous curiousity. He broke into a grin. Although he didn't mind, something puzzling happened. For whatever reason, that cyan horse unit grew hot red.

Maybe it was the same reason the canary yellow one started blushing. But for her, he hadn't the possibility of an idea. So he stood, stretching his limbs and aching comfortably in his arms. Yard work, or manual labor of any kind, was a blessing for the vessel.

Assuring that maybe their species was an alien breed or some form of recent settler, he raised his left arm high and positioned his right arm straight to the side. When Pin Ki caught the barest glimpse of it, she asked to borrow a fone(?) from her whispermate and scrambled off into the bushes.

A simple teacup admonished the surrounding air with steam. He rubbed the back of his head in both humility and apology. There was no way he was touching that. But, kneeling just enough to reach the china itself, he dipped his head forward and gulped it down with his pharyngeal jaws. The elongated neck of his extra oral component fascinated his newest friend, they being a lavender horse with a horn.

"How did you know he was an extra terrestrial, Pinkie...? Did he happen to leave any blatant clues, or was it just your Pinkie sense this time?" Twilight inquired, shielding her snout with a clipboard.

"Well, uh... I would say his gesture- yeah, that's what tipped me off. That's the one people are supposed to do when they meet an E.T. So when I saw him using it, I knew he wasn't from around here."

Rainbow scoffed and blew the hair from her eyes.

"Or, you know, because he's on two legs and doesn't look like anything in Equestria."

Whence that callousness grew, it drew a glare from the lavender one. She scribbled an amalgamation of hasty sketches and illegible chicken scratch, stealing glances at her guest whenever convenient. The others were perplexed to no exaggerated degree. The only other mare in the room with the slightest understanding of alien life was Pinkie. And that was due to a not-so-public infatuation with fictitious storytelling.

Rainbow Dash endured the awkward stints of silence by drowning out the machine noise and mouse clicks.

Instead of listening to that dribble, she perchanced a new Daring Do novel titled 'Daring Do and the Madman's Lexicon For The Weird and Cosmic.' She clicked her tongue against her teeth and chuckled. Sounded like an egghead book, but anything by A.K Yearling was an undeniable feast for the imagination. And as she read on about eldritch beings in the looming nothing over the skies of Equestria, she giggled and muffled her lips as the story progressed into a plot of world domination by ancient precursor aliens.

"So, Mr..." Twilight began, scratching her head and fixing her spectacles.

The breed unit curled his lips skyward. After she asked, he closed his fingers and motioned his hand back and forth with his left palm beneath it. Being the scholar she was, his host quickly understood and brought him a full notepad of yellow, line-heavy paper. And with it, a ballpoint pen with silver components.

There, in the ever free meadow of precarious assumptions and half-realized paranoia, he swam through his own libraries of the unknown. He, a guest in their shining and geodetic abode, scribed the most appropriate variations of what could be considered double talk, or, in the language of his odd system's people, 'yumreasa haekuu.'

'You are my kind host

and i am your guest Brood Drone

Unit 679.

you inquire so

about the nature of we

the old martian kin.

i just cant wait to

learn you and your people

im yours as youre mine.'

Re:member- The First Sin

There in the shade of the nearest 'graveyard', he knelt in the undulating energies of the decomposed and their echoed voices. He could feel them tickling at the membrane over his neck and the gushing sanguine beneath his eye wraps. A stir of unintelligible mutterings and jabbering presences ate away at his senses. So he grit his teeth and covered his ears, drowning them out and focusing on the gravestones.

As petrichor drowned the place in downtrodden drummings and little fairie fractures, he felt at peace when the air constricted and chilled his red button nose.

"You feel them too, don't you. You hear them... just like me." Someone hushed, her voice, a million tones and frequencies in harmony, a sweet symphony of something hard to swallow.

He turned back to see her, astonished and quite pleasantly, by the ever present glow of her visage. It felt, for some reason, comforting in the closest way possible to natural kinship. And more so as she hovered about the loosened mud and crumbling dirt, did he seem so entranced by her familiar ways.

Her hair was lilac purple when dense with rain, and half of that curly, lovely mess was a faded white. The unfettered purity of her coat reminded him of an old martian winter. The mare's eyes, of an old martian princess surrounded by a cascade of praetorians with silver and MK III bronze gattling arms. So naturally, he stayed his tongue and glanced elsewhere, nodding faintly in odd intervals.

"You don't have to hold your thoughts, breeder. We know of your kind. You mean no harm. You never did."

Before he could object, he found her presence cooling the very core of his intellectual being. In liberty, he recognized her invisible connection and cherished it. He let his thoughts hatch and he kept his eyes on her, the only one to ever hear him. To know him as he knew her.

[you are not... like them.

you are free; never to rot.

whence do you know me

whence do you know us

tis been two centuries now...

your curse is welcome

legion; thrall of hate

where did you learn to accept

where the others couldnt...?]

Sweetie Belle, or what was left of her amalgamate core of indecipherable persons, cracked a smile and closed her eyes.

"Doesn't the rain feel so forgiving... Don't the clouds seem just as distressed as we are. They huddle together to run from the cold. And they cry because they too were born in this nightmare. You remind me of her. A stranger in a stranger land. And a single person to come and change us as we are; flesh and blood. Flaws and all."

When the clouds began to roar, he glanced just right of her. Her majestic glow and her unspoken secrets. Were they really fated to meet, as his knotted gut had urged him to hear. Before, he hadn't the slightest idea of why his invisible intuition told him to visit that graveyard. Or why it felt so naggingly imperative to endure the harsh storm of unrealized noises. But he did. And he embraced her by acknowledging her.

[so the nightmare stays...

the curse has never lifted.

i would weep for them.

i would weep for Our Mother

but she is buried somewhere

beneath this new land.

the promise has stayed

even if they would not hear

i am here to try.]

She snickered and let loose a low, fading stream of bitter laughter. It struck her throat in raspy bursts and jumped her diaphragm every which second she spent kneeling over that tombstone. That particular grave piece had a cane sword lodged in it's soil. And there halfway up the trick blade, a waving coat made from silk and fine linen, it's hue: black; it's ragged holes and bloodstained cloth: a reminder of the trials that it fought to earn it's peace.

"Try... and hold onto that promise. We've all been bad; us ponies. Those of us that saw you; we were weak. We didn't do what we needed and we all suffered. It is our penance to suffer for the arrogance we spew as a species that is crass enough to think it is above it's own neighbors."

He wanted to tell her everything was alright. That the dark in mare's hearts was only a child crying out for an answer to the pain it knew. But he didn't, because he knew she'd already heard it before and the deep melancholy weighing her down wouldn't listen. Because that was how they all were. They were all children in the eyes of the void.

"If we could turn back time... and do it all over, you know we'd do it in a heartbeat. Nay, sooner, as a virus such as us breeds in the dark. We would have broken the curse if we understood how wrong we were." She murmured, her eyes fixated on the last words of somepony she hated.

On crumbling and vine-ridden stone, she recalled those bittersweet half-truths etched in months ago.

'In loving memory of Lilith Hargrove Li:

You wouldn't be happy without me.

Tomorrow never sang for us.

So you slept away from the world, until I thawed

and took away all that I loved.

At least before, we were alone together.

But now I'll always be cold.

Forever and always.

- your angel of lies.'

Re:member - Even In A Dream

The inane dribble pouring out of the queen's mouth was more or less nothing more than propaganda. When she finished her 'rousing' spiel, the other martians rallied with endless woops and low chants. But as the sounds grew distant, he watched the light from the sun grow dark. And then, when the last of the Cosmic Legion poured out betwixt the clouds, they docked their carriers and destroyers with the castle ramparts and towers.

On her and the princess' mark, they poised their gattling cannons and burning polearms. The first warcry blared over the mountains of Canterlot. The princess of the knight peeled the nearest sky ships with only her voice.

When she rose to lead the charge, she launched forward with her sister not meters behind, leaving the battlefield pulsing with midnight blue and streaks of crackling, golden magick. That was when the gattling units cranked their barrels and tore holes in the advancing paratroopers.

A rich, groggy groan filled his ears and returned him to the waking world. He glanced back to see Fluttershy clinging to his warmth, her lithe hindlegs wrapping tightly over his waist.

Such unbridled warmth was... eldritch to him. The core and torso of a martian was no more chilled than the Sahara desert. Being so intimate with someone who boasted such apparent heat disquieted his subconscious. It felt, in some primal way, that he was being cooked from the inside out and would expire not one hour away.

Twas only a long minute before he detailed her forehooves with his rough fingers. They were so supple. So smooth. Nothing like his scratchy mitts, or anything like human hands. There was flesh there, but the texture was akin to firm marshmallows covered in pygmy flagellum. He caught glimpse of several scars and thin, scraggly scabs along the undersides of her forelegs. That set him off the edge. Who would do that to someone like her. Or anyone.

They were soft, hospitable creatures. Ones that reasoned. Ones that felt and spoke just as anyone else deserved.

A solid chill overtook his chest, starting from the place his hearts were. Everywhere else grew to accepted the corruption and let it pass. And just as soon as he sat up, staring at the torn chrysalis across his bed, Fluttershy stretched her limbs out.

"Nmmmm... You're so mean, Mister. You left me alone last night. You could've stayed and kissed me awake." She groaned, licking his lips and gently laying him with her weight.

He glanced up with a softer gaze anyone had a right to. His good eye was pitch black at the moment; not at all similar to the deep sanguine from yesterday. When Fluttershy found herself staring, she averted his hypnotic midnight visage.

There was something alien about the thumping in her chest, falling for the way he looked beneath her. That was the first time she'd ever felt the urge to meet her lover first. And when she did, pressing faintly against his chest, but that time in need, she burned bright red. With her muzzle turned to the right, she did her best to keep her whispers lithe.

"Gosh... I never realized how cute you were. I'm not sure how to feel about you Mr. Martian. You're okay now. But you forced yourself on me. You're not going to do that again, are you...? Because I-I don't like it when I'm forced you know."

What was she saying. Something inside her told her to stop lying so aggressively. It was true, she really didn't enjoy being forced. She swore it. There was just a matter of the mind and the body. And that was never a common topic, but she wasn't in a conference room with eleven angry strangers. Just herself and her deeper self in the confines of an addled mind.

He couldn't reach any paper. And slipping away from her didn't feel like the right thing to do. So he took her in and stole a kiss. And another. And another. And another. Before long, which extended to the span of five seconds, she'd rolled onto her back and tossed in bed to get comfy. What more could a mare ask but a nice bed and her legs in the air.

When he took his eyes off her, she panicked and her heart stopped.

"What's... what's the matter. Am I- am I too ugly? Do I need makeup?" She whimpered, not understanding his reluctance.

She watched him shake his head and frown a good deal. So when he lifted her forelegs and ran his rough index over her scars, her heart sank. When had he noticed. What would he say. Those were just two of many inquiries plaguing her ill-kempt mind. What she wanted to do was quite obvious, as she found herself hiding and pulling the sheets over her muzzle.

"I... I." She jittered, darting her eyes and freezing everywhere else.

"It was weeks ago, o-okay? I didn't mean to do it. I promise it wasn't you or- or..."

Fluttershy cowered as he stayed silent. Motionless, even. But, as soon as everything followed and there was nothing to hear, she stared up at the man straddling her hips. Soon, she felt an anxious flame burning in her chest.

There was water filming his scrunching, narrowed eyes. And though he did not speak, she knew then and there that there was something unmistakable about him. Whatever happened from then on, it would never hurt if he were the one acting. All the pain and toil would be her doing. So she pulled him down and clung to him one more time that morning, retching in abrupt ways; yes ways hard to swallow.

But the more she kept against him, the more she buried her snout against his cassock, the deeper her body sank. When the last tear dried against his sternum, he felt her limp and weightless. After all he'd done to her, sober or not, in control or a slave to his own chemistry, she still had the heart to trust him.

What a monster, he thought, closing his eyes and laying her in a recovery position. Because at least then she wouldn't pass away from something as trivial as swallowing her own tongue. Fluttershy's forelegs were wrapped in thin linen wraps, and before he shambled away from bed and collapsed on the dirt of the Chrysalis Den, he couldn't help but grin ear-to-ear.

Jagged, little puffs of air shoved out his lungs as he writhed softly against the moist dirt. Everything was burning. His lungs. His abdominal region. Even his endoskeletal chassis was coursing with stabbing pin pricks. So her love bit down on his own hand and overrode the pain. When the agony ate away at his teeth and arteries instead, he seized the chance to inject himself with chrysalis discharge.

"Ha... haha." He grunted.

He breathed deep as his eyelds fell closed, one completely blind and forever bleeding, one blurry with chemical tears.

So warm was his love.

But he could not bear the flame;

no martian man could.

Priority: Furtive Armor Smith

A great, howling wind tore away at the kicking shutters of La Carousel Boutique. Although Rarity did not have any intention to investigate the unnerving noise, she did huddle away from it on the safety of her velvet sofas. Sofas instead of sofa because one mare could not be satisfied with one seat for herself and her dearest house guests. No, there were several stations for the lounging customer and the venerated fashion messiah as well as supple seating for her loved ones.

An entrepreneur such as herself, what with the recent hiatus from her market in Canterlot, could not rest their eyes in the lonely dark. She couldn't stay in relative obscurity because she was no lone wolf. No, she was a social creature. And on days like those, whence the rain poured because it could not bear the esoteric nature of sky life, she wanted to huddle close with someone warm.

When nearby fluorescent light fixtures began to flicker, she gave a low, elongated sigh and wriggled away from her divine furniture. And so, her coat was subject to torturous cold, and her hooves, the insensitive embrace of chilling checkered tiles. Why oh why hadn't she worn any booties.

Although she couldn't understand how the boutique stayed so frigid, she marched onward to the nearest telephone.

"Yes, is this the Home Improvement And Architectural Affairs hotline?"

"... Well, I have a bit of a doozie here, dear. You see, I'm terribly cold here and I know I shouldn't be, because my boutique is supposed to be sealed at every window and every door. The chimney is pouring smoke and I'm still shivering. If you could be so kind and let me schedule an appointment for a routine checkup..."

Knock knock- knock knock.

"..." She stammered, instinctively clicking the phone against it's base.

Knock knock- knock knock.

She slid away from her telephone counter and slid quietly across the tile. And from her purse, she drew a familiar .44 revolver, releasing it from the seemingly random pile of hairbrushes and gems inside. No, that was to disguise her true treasure, not the prissy clutter someone like mother would drag around.

Rarity planted her hooves just before the door, crouching low and ready. She masked the sound of the hammer clicking by tipping a glass in the kitchen. An absurd amount of glass sprinkled the window area, it being her intention in the first place and much, much more.

But then there was a voice at the door. It anchored her ears against the sides of her skull.

"I'm still puzzled as to why I never got one. It would've come in handy a year ago." Said Sweetiebelle, her vibrant emerald eyes licking at the dark.

The breath was stolen away from her. How could she say- no, how could she even jest about that. There was no world in any universe where Rarity herself would ever even entertain the notion. So she turned her muzzle and her eyes, unlocking the latch to La Carousel Boutique. It clicked faintly before her sister and... a surprise guest glided in. Glided instead of walked or trotted because Sweetiebelle had literally levitated them in.

"No mud on the tile. I remember vividly. Would you mind fetching a glass of juice for our guest, dear sister?"

A soft, anxious chuckle blew past her teeth before she grit them. Rarity fetched it alright. She flooded her mind with pleasant times and little softball games, fighting desperately with memories of the month before. And as she rinsed a glass, having just swept the shards and granules from the incident. Rarity chanced upon lilac dish soap tucked in behind the lime-scented variety. So the girl took to lithe scrubbing in broad, circular strokes against the insides. And as she did, her disgruntled demeanor lead her eyes up.

With her sour, bitter glance came the inexplicable scene of soap bubbles floating away toward the window. And though they were desparate to do anything, to phase through the barrier, or even, to batter it and shatter themselves, they did so in vain. So she winced somewhere deep inside, reminded of a struggling little showpony in the making. Her eyes were somewhere between greyed emeralds, to an especially mild jungle hue. And on her own, makeshift stage of one mattress and two bedsheets, she sang her heart out to the audience that wouldn't know her for another decade.

Rarity undid that window and slid it open for the bubbles to go, hopeful they would survive the withering drizzle of the cumulus clouds. She watched them sail on invisible streams of gloomy wind and into the embrace of the mundane canvas above.

So she wiped the glass dry and trotted away, remembering where the bubbles go.