The first few meetingsView OnlineAngelic WeepingThe first few meetingsHe started, “Oy! What do you think you’re doing?” The intruder stood, his black coat grey with dust. “Breaking your wall down. What else does it look like?” The first huffed, “Do you have ANY idea how much you are going to PAY--” The second shoved his hoof in the other’s mouth, “Sh shshshshh shhhhhh.” He turned his head slightly, “Listen.” The first’s ears flicked, “I hear--” “The mechanical walk, yes, but what else?” He strained his ears, “’I did my du--’” “Besides that.” Even more. It hurt. “A high pitched--” “Not that.” He screwed his face up in concentration, “Footsteps from a small--” “Not that either.” “What about the clicking?” “No. Go further.” The owner of the house whirled to face the intruder, “If I strain any further, my binkin’ ears will start to bleed!” “Okay, okay.” He held his sand blue hooves up. “For your information, the mechanical walk is nothing more than a woman I have with me, as is the footsteps. The high pitched whining is my son, and the voice saying ‘I did my duty for Queen and Country’ is the woman. “There are those noises. I’m talking about the whistling through the trees.” “I can’t hear it.” “Well, ‘course you can’t.” The intruder sighed, “One: You’ve got your teevee on too loud.” He levitated the remote in his aura, muting the show, “Two: You’re blathering on about the stuff I already know, and three: You don’t have the hearing I do.” “Then why did you ask me?” “To see if the general public will notice. Have a nice day.” The intruder leapt out the broken door, leaving a trail of a black liquid streaming from a cut on his right hoof. The beige stallion sighed, running a hoof through his brown hair. “And yet another nutter in this world.” Three weeks later, there was a knocking at his door. “Can I help--” “Move aside.” the stallion burst his way into the living room, “I think if I can get close to it, I can placate the general- Ah HAH!” He slammed his hoof on the other’s kitchen floor. In the middle of the door. A black liquid splashed from there like water. “Can I help--” “Not now friend.” He ran his hoof along the floor, “By the way, do you realize that your house is built atop of an old graveyard?” “What makes you say that?” The stallion tapped a hoof on the door jam on his way out, “City plans. Your house is built right on top of the old town Ponyville Cemetery. Good night.” “Whoo!” The black one picked himself from amidst the broken glass, “Now THAT is flying!” The beige stallion sighed, “And might I ask--” “Small flight experiment. I figured, hey, since I’m a Unicorn, two weeks away from knighthood and to become a prince, why don’t I make myself a set of wings. They’re not TOO bad,” He gave the chrome black wings a few flaps, “But they don’t give the feel of flying. Anywho.” He galloped off, taking to the skies a second later. “Okay, now--” “Will you stop barging into my house and at least tell me who you are?” The brown-haired Stallion shook his head, “You’ve nearly thrashed my house three times!” The other stallion’s jaw snapped shut, “Ah, yes. I am FoxTrot. Equestrian Games?” “And why do you keep breaking into my house?” “I’m not breaking in.” FoxTrot held his hooves up, “You’re still here and I don’t take anything.” “You break something, then you find yourself inside my house. Therefore, BREAKING IN!” FoxTrot laughed, “Eh, well, I’m trying to find a shadow creature.” “What’s it look like? Maybe you could use my help.” “Well,” FoxTrot clicked his tongue, “Whooves, I guess it’s a start.” “Yeah, now, tell me what you’re doing in my house!” “Well, Whooves, I am trying to find a creature of the shadows, and I have reason to believe that it has latched into your residence.” “Oh? And why do you say that?” “You’ve got two shadows.” The stallion jumped sky high, landing in a well lit area, “What?!” “AH HAH!” FoxTrot pointed a hoof at the trembling stallion, “See? There! You’re projecting on the wall, yet the sun’s streaming from your right!” The stallion stood still, “Help.” “Ah, don’t worry, I’ve got JUST the thing.” He pulled a device from within his jacket, pointing it right at Whooves, “This may hurt your eyes, so be a lad and close them. There ya go.” FoxTrot clicked it on. It flickered a moment, then, after a few thumps from FoxTrot’s hoof, shone a brilliant white light at the stallion. All shadows vanished. He set it down and clicked it off. “There ya go. All better” “Why would the Vashta Nerada be here?” “Simple.” FoxTrot threw the spent lamp onto Whooves’ couch, “I’m here. A living creature with the element of the shadows. Are your ears ringing? Anyways, since I’m here, spreading the shadows with my power, I make them stronger. And weaker at the same time. String in the fact that only a quarter of the Vashta Nerada are required, but they’ll shrivel up and die in just a fifth the light. “Whoo, they won’t stop ringing, anyways, I’ve been trying to find them, because I can feel them everywhere, thanks to my elemental power. I’ve felt them getting stronger and stronger. Then I had a hunch and here I am, saving you from getting your flesh eaten away in a flash. “Are you absolutely positive your ears aren’t ringing?” “No.” Whooves shook his head, “I can’t hear a thing other than your explanations.” “Hmm. Well.” FoxTrot shrugged, “Well, then I will let you go then.” He magicked the door back on, trotting out. The Prince closed the door, giving a backwards wave. A black fox with blue markings was slouched over a monitor, his eyes losing focus. He yawned. “Skor?” a lavender Unicorn trotted towards him, “You okay?” He started, clearing his throat, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little burned.” She placed a hoof on his cheek, “No wonder, you haven’t slept in days.” “It’s just…” he sighed, rubbing his good eye, “I feel so. BORED!” He slammed a paw on his desk, rattling it’s haphazard contents. “Well.” Twilight shrugged, “If it will help, Derpy’s here.” Skorpeon’s eyes snapped open. He leapt from the chair, clattered down the stairs and practically tackled the mailmare. “Ohthankyouthankyouthankyouyouvebeenagreatgirlderpy!” He giggled, flicking his wrist. “What is it?” Twilight nodded to the mailmare, chewing contentedly on a chocolate muffin. “If it’s the one I’m waiting for,” He pulled a black velvet bag from within the packaging, “then it is…” He pulled a cylindrical device from within. It had four prongs at the top, closed around a green orb. The central piece was silver and copper, leading to an ivory- and-leather grip with a copper end. Skorpeon giggled, “It’s here!” “What is that thing?” Twilight trotted forward. “This, my lovely Twi-lee,” he pushed a button which sprang the silver up, revealing a green chamber that was loosely protecting the orb. “Is nothing more than a screwdriver.” He pushed a button that lit the orb up. screeeeeeeeeeee “And it’s fully functional.” He pressed it against his paw, snapping the front back in place. “Ready for action.” “A screwdriver?” Derpy peered over the fox’s shoulder, “It doesn’t look like one.” “Yeah, sonic anything’s don’t look like their usual counterparts.” He tossed it in the air, catching it upside-down. “And this dosen’t look like the one I ordered.” He shrugged, “No matter.” “And what are you going to use it for?” twilight smirked, her lavender eyes sparkling like they did. “What you usually use them for.” Skorpeon replied without looking at her, “Manipulation of your surroundings.” Skorpeon stood, flicking his screwdriver out. “Huh.” He tapped the flickering light, “No idea how to read one of these. Deng.” He pocketed it, pushing the door open. Carefully, the fox stalked inside, trying hard not to bump into anything. “Hookay.” He muttered under his breath, “Time to find.” He looked everywhere. The desk, the floor, the cabinets. Even under the mattress. No sign of it. “The last place.” Skorpeon muttered, stretching his back, “Three hours of searching, and it’s going to be there, right?” His screwdriver suddenly went off SKEEEEEEE “Oh, nononononononononono” He pulled it from his pocket, frantically trying to silence it. “No, no. Shut up!” Ske do-do-do-do ske do-do-do-do “Shht!” He smacked it on his palm, “Hush. Now. Vogret. Vogret!” “What are you doing here?” a light turned on. Skorpeon’s eyes burned. “Ah,” the fox turned to Whooves, “Routine inspection?” “At three in the morning?” Whooves shook his head, “What do you want with me? Can’t you see that I’m nothing more than a simple, unemployed stallion?” “False.” Skorpeon pointed his screwdriver at Whooves, “You are not nobody. There’s somepony who needs you. Remember your interview during The Games? There’s a missus Whooves, isn’t there?” Whooves sighed, “I lied. I said that so I could get some sponsors.” Skorpeon nodded, running a paw through his hair, “Still doesn’t mean anything against the fact of your ‘nopony needs and/or wants me’ attitude.” “You sure about that?” Whooves stood, tightening his bathrobe belt, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Skorpeon, I have some sleep to catch up on, and I suggest you do the same.” “Fine.” Skorpeon sighed, “Just don’t come writing to me when they get you.” Whooves stopped dead in his tracks. “Who’s ‘they’?” Nobody there. “Skorpeon?” “…and we pull this and we are good to GO!” Skorpeon threw all his weight into the lever, watching the machine whir to life. “Brilliant.” A silver fox called from his working on a silver humanoid, “In the time it could have taken to find out otherwise, you've managed to build a machine that will tell us--” “Pinpoint locations to find them!” Skorpeon pulled a monitor close, tapping it for the effect, “And believe me, when we find them--” “And will you finally tell me who ‘they’ are?” Skorpeon shook his head, “All in due time.” Miles sighed, resuming his work. “You know, dad, ever since we saved Yvonne, you’ve been more and more… how do I say it, more…” Miles clicked his fingers, trying to pinpoint the word. “Lax?” “No. just more gung-ho with everything you want to do.” Skorpeon nodded, “What are you doing by the way?” Miles shrugged, “Tinkering, I guess.” “On Yvonne?” “It really doesn’t matter.” The robot Miles was working on turned its head, “I don’t mind you and Miles working on me.” Skorpeon looked back at her, “You may be considered an AI Unit in papers, but you’re still a human.” Yvonne let out a mechanical sigh, her photoreceptors darkening. “I did my duty for Queen and Country.” After that, she was silent. “Yvonne?” Miles pulled a small device from the cyborg’s chest, “What’s this do?” She raised her head, calculating the object held in Miles’ paw, “That would be my Emotional Inhibitor.” Miles jumped, frantically plugging it back in. He stammered his apologies. “Skorpeon!” Twilight threw the door open, clattering down the steps. “Cadance just sent us a --” Twilight’s eyes fell upon the Cyberman on the table. “Is that—how did—shouldn’t you--” “She did her duty for Queen and Country.” Skorpeon nodded, “Don’t worry.” Twilight relaxed, “Anyway, Cadance sent us a letter.” “She does that all the time.” Skorpeon clicked his screwdriver open, “What is the big fuss.” “Well,” Twilight hesitated, handing him the nore. Skorpeon’s eyes widened more and more as he went through the letter, until the point that they appeared like the Sun and Moon side by side in the night sky. The fox closed his screwdriver against his thigh, “Well, I guess I’d better figure this out.” He buried his face in his paws, “Like Caddy always wants me to: Save the day.” He pulled his cloak on and tapped his wrist. “Be careful, huh?” Twilight leaned against the doorway, the summer’s heat not affecting her. “I will.” FoxTrot pulled his cloak on, stepping into the cool night. He took a deep breath, allowing the night air to clear his senses. “And so begins the search.” He muttered, setting off.
ConfessionsView OnlineAngelic WeepingConfessionsThe Prince trotted though his vineyard, ears twitching. His stride was brisk, yet deliberate. And enough to knock his eyepod loose. “Tahnzen Niex.” He cursed, sliding it back into place. His vision distorted, then cleared. When FoxTrot came to his destination, he knocked. Twice. Thrice. Four— “I’m here!” Whooves flung his door open, eyes dim and couldy. “What do you want, your highness?” “May I come in?” FoxTrot looked around, “I think what I need to tell you can’t be heard by outside ears.” Without waiting for a reply, FoxTrot trotted past the stallion, slipping him the letter as he went past. I got this letter from Caddy. You know, the Princess of Love?” Whooves sighed, “And what’s it got to do with me?” “Read it and weep.” Skorpeon pulled the cloak off, throwing it on the back of Whooves’ couch. After a moment, Whooves handed it back. “What’s it to do with me?” he repeated. Skorpeon sighed, “You know what the opposing force could be, right?” “I have no idea.” Whooves answered shakily. “And yet, there one is. A perfect scenario that happened to you, actually.” He turned, locking eyes with Whooves, “And you know PRECISELY what is out there.” Whooves sighed, “I seriously have no idea what you are talking about.” “And there’s one behind you.” Skorpeon smiled when the stallion jumped, casting a fearful, and unwavering, glance behind him. “Don’t deny it.” Skorpeon called, “I know who you are and what you are.” Whooves glared at him, “I am just a simple pony. A simple, beige-with-brown-hair, unemployed, single, and loyal stallion.” “But you weren’t always, now were you?” Skorpeon cocked his head, “How long ago did you come here?” “I’ve lived here my whole live.” “Then why does it sound like you’re from the north?” “A lot of planet have a north.” Skorpeon cackled when Whooves automatically answered. The beige stallion’s cheeks flushed. “How do you know, assuming the fact that your little theory based on fiction is actually real?” Skorpeon grinned, “When I came in, saying you had two shadows. I was creating the second with my Control over the shadows. Then, when I ‘helped’ you with that bright light, I took a diagnostics of your vital signs. And guess what?” Skorpeon placed a paw on Whooves’ chest. “Two hearts. You also told me what ‘they’ were. Later, when I came in talking about city plans and I slammed my hooves in your doorway? That black liquid. That was a kind of…” Skorpeon struggled for the word, “Sonar.. if you will, trying to find alien technology. And guess what? I sensed an object that was bigger on the inside. “Then, when I first came in, when I asked you what you could hear, I had Yvonne march around. Your face drained of all blood when you heard her walk. “You’re The Doctor, aren’t you?” Whooves held a hoof up, “What about when you crashed through my skylight?” Skorpeon made an apologetic face, “That was an accident. Wasn’t trying to do anything. Just crashed. Now answer my question.” Whooves sighed. “Fine. I am The Doctor.” Skorpeon smiled, “And how did you end up here in Equestria?” “It’s a long story.” The Doctor shook his head. “I’ve got a while.” Skorpeon faked a look at his watch, “I’ve got all the time in the world.” The Doctor sighed again, “Fine…” “I don’t want to go.” He said, the memories of his friends still burning in his head. A tear fell from his eye. “I don’t want to go.” Suddenly, he racked his own body with pure light and energy. He felt as if the flesh was being stripped from his bones, then duct-taped back on with a dull knife. He gave an uncontrollable gasp before his face vanished in the Huon Energy that continued into the TARDIS’ control panel. He saw flames erupt out of the corner of his eye before they vanished too. A faint acrid smell of smoke hit his nose. Then he vanished. The Doctor stirred. His head hurt. He blinked. “Eyes still work.” He said after a moment. He stood, “Well. That was a bit more painful than ever. Still,” he stretched, feeling a bit different than his stretches before. “New body, new rules, and new attributes.” He sighed, “But I guess that can wait.” The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS. He had entirely forgotten the damage his Regeneration caused. “This doesn’t look like London.” He shook his head, the Ood-song still ringing in his ears. “Dosen’t even look like England. More like--” “Hold taght there, little sister!” A peculiar accent struck the Time Lord’s ears. “And watch where yer leadin’ the cattle! Keep ‘em away from the gates!” “Cattle.” The Doctor racked his brain, “Ah HAH! Cattle! Spoken by southern-american humans! Earth! Hello! And by the lack of buildings and such, I guess I’m somewhere in the early seventeenth century!” He took off at a breaking run, not noticing the different gait he took to. The Doctor stopped dead. There, in a clearing were three horsed. No riders. But they were corralling the cattle nonetheless. He smiled, “Now isn’t that something! Humans teaching their horses to corral the cattle for them! Brilliant!” “Watch it Brother! There’s one loose!” The Doctor looked around for the source, but there was no one there. Just the horses. But yet a big red one led a straying cow back into formation. “Hang on.” He moved forward, noticing a hat perched on one of the horses head. And if he wasn’t mistaken, there looked to be a bow tied in another’s hair. “Now that’s..” He coughed, “A bit strange.” He trotted into the clearing, warranting the attention of the three horses who finally got the cows in a circle. He took no notice until he heard a voice. “Can ah help ya?” He looked toward the direction, but there was just the orange pony with the hat on its head. “And where are you?” The Doctor muttered under his breath. “Why aren’t you showing yourself.” “Ah said, can ah help ya?” If The Doctor had been looking away, he would have broken his neck turning it back to the voice. But he wasn’t. He was looking at the horse. As such, he saw the horses lips move. He felt the blood rush form his face, and he fell backwards, spread eagle on his back. “Is he all right?” The Doctor slipped back into consciousness.. “We was just finishing the corrallin’ when he comes from the bushes. Ah ask him if ah could help him, and he just up and falls over.” “Well, he’s fine.” A male’s voice reached him, “Banged his head a bit on a rock, but he’ll be fine.” “Is that where all the blood came from?” “His head? Yes.” The Doctor cracked his eyes open. There, with his back turned to him, stood a Fox. Not like Foxes from this planet, but like those that resided upon New Earth in New Savannah, alongside the Catkind. “Will he be alright?” “Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s awake now.” The fox turned back around, displaying his mis-matched eyes. “Ugh. Where am I?” “Sweet Apple Acres.” the orange horse from before trotted up, setting her hooves on the podium he was on. The Doctor started, but before he could say something, he found his tongue bound. “Home to Ponyville’s finest Cider-makers and Apple Preserves. And we even sell some special--” “That’s nice.” The shock wore off at the horse’s vocal abilities, “But I mean other things. Country, planet. Year preferably.” “And you know the rest.” The Doctor finished, “When you first break to me that I’m a pony, and tell me that my Screwdriver must have gone missing.” “Yeah.” Skorpeon held back a laugh as he remembered the look on the stallion’s face when those words fell from his mouth. “This is Apple Jack, and I’m Skorpeon. And you’re a pony.” “Still, why do you need my help?” The Doctor stood, “I can’t combat anything alien or superstitious without the technology unique to the TARDIS, which disappeared from the place I had left it. And my Screwdriver with it. I don’t have any of my technology.” Skorpeon looked at him, “If your TARDIS vanished, then what’s that in your basement?” “My trench coat.” He said, “All the pockets on it are like that.” “Oh.” “So, I can’t help you. And, actually.” The Doctor trotted towards the door, “Since you’ve been nothing but a nuisance to me the past few weeks to me, I have no choice but to—HEY!” The Doctor yelped as he felt himself being ripped from the floor and forced into the air. He looked at a black substance binding him spread-eagle. “What are the Royal Guards going to do?” Skorpeon asked, keeping the malice in his voice out, “I am the Prince of Shadows. They’ll not arrest me.” “Still, you’ve been breaking into my house.” The Doctor struggled against his bonds, “Even though I’m not from here, I still think it rude to barge in unannounced.” Skorpeon sighed, “Look, Whooves,” he leaned in with his element, pressing the stallion against the wall, “Ponies are vanishing. Not even the Princesses can find where they're off to. And now, there are reports and letters written from the past. Ponies saying goodbye to their loved ones before they're even born! Ponies who died the day they vanished! And you’re the only one who can help me find out who is responsible for these murders!” The Doctor gave a look of concern. “And if I don’t?” Skorpeon rolled his eyes, “You’re The Doctor. You can’t stand to see the innocent in any sort of peril.” The Doctor yelped as his hold vanished. “Fine. I think I know what could be taking them.” Skorpeon leaned forward. “What?” “Weeping Angels.”
The Journey startsView OnlineAngelic WeepingThe Journey startsThe two trotted forward, The Prince illuminating the way with a Shadow Light. “…and she’s just standing behind the controls. I ask her what she did, and, you know, before she couldn’t even plug a toaster in, but there she is, Daleks spinning like tops, and all she can say is ‘A flipstick circuit breaker in the psychonetic threshold manipulator’.” “Nice.” Skorpeon held a branch out, keeping an eye out for enemies. “So then, she simply pushes a button, the Daleks start explode--” “HALT!” The two spun, catching sight of one of the Monger Guards in his stark white armor, “Who goes there?” “Hold, soldier!” FoxTrot shrugged from the smoke, “It’s just me. And--” “HALT! Who goes there?” “It’s me!” FoxTrot trotted to the armored guard, “FoxTrot!” “HALT! Who goes there?” “Skorpeon!” The Doctor aimed his torch at the stallion “Look at his feet.” The Prince of Shadows looked down. “Two shadows.” He looked back up, wiping the grunge from the armor’s face plate. He started back as a bloodied skull rested on the glass. “HALT! Who goes there!” “Run!” The two took off like lightning without a care as to where they treaded. “Doctor!” The fox spat mud from his mouth, “DOC!” The Doctor grabbed the back of Skorpeon’s vest, “Ew, don’t you ever wash this thing?” Skorpeon yanked his arm from the mud hole, “Shaddup.” The two took off again, the skeleton creeping up on them. “Who’s there? I can hear you!” Somepony else called. “Star Lane?” “Over here!” Skorpeon turned direction to the voice, activating his disguise, “it’s FoxTrot and The Doctor!” “Who’s there?” FoxTrot cursed, bucking the skeleton in the chest. It fell to the ground, but immediately jumped back up. “HALT! Who goes there?” “Who’s there? I can hear you!” “Is that you Star Lane?” A third Monger joined them, his call mingling with the other two. FoxTrot spun. He was surrounded. He sighed, “By what creeps, what crawls. By what does not. Let all before me crumble and--” “Fawkes!” The Doctor grabbed the Prince by his chest, both of them swinging to safety among the taller trees. The Prince lost control of the curse, feeling the negative effects of the curse go awry. He kicked The Doctor, “Don’t touch me!!” He winced as his bones started to warp, as if about to break. “What?” the Doctor started back, “What’s wrong?” Skorpeon stood, rubbing his paws together faster than The Doctor could see, “Thanks to your intervention, the curse I was about to use to turn those creatures into dust instead turned on me and is about to kill me.” He yelped as his shin popped, “I need to get the energy from my body as fast as possible.” He rubbed his paws faster. “How fast?” “Faster than I can exert it this way!” Panic seeped into his voice, followed by a massive scream that erupted from his lips. “What can I do?” The Doctor looked around, “Anyone I can call?” “I… need…” Skorpeon gasped, “I need… the energy… pulled from my… my system.” He screamed again, this time an audible crack came from his left leg. It snapped into a weird angle. “Right, hang on!” The Doctor grabbed Skorpeon by the shoulders, then crammed his lips to the fox’s. Skorpeon tried to break away, but felt his bones start to cool. Then he felt the energy start to leave. The Doctor thrust himself from Skorpeon, his face red with massive embarrassment. “Sorry. Direct Energy Absorption. The only way energy can be quickly pulled from a body.” Skorpeon took a step backwards from the Doctor, “Yeah… right.” He shook his head, “So, when you’re done trying to kiss me, can you tell me what that was?” “I thought you’d know.” The Doctor shook his head, “What with your little ‘two shadows’ knowledge. I think if there’s going to be information given, then—“ “HALT! Who goes there?” “See?” Skorpeon glared at The Doctor, “You should have let me be.” The Doctor shrugged. “By what creeps, what crawls. By what does not. Let all before me crumble and rot.” The three Mongers started to shake, emitting what sounded like an old, dysfunctional organ. One of the Monger’s armor broke apart, starting a small cyclone that engulfed the other two in a heartbeat. The wheezing grew louder, dawning on the two stallions that it was the Vashta Nerada’s screams. A red liquid started forming around the still-standing skeletons that seemed to drain directly from a heart that never was. The bones fell to the dirt, turned red from the blood, then white, brown, black, and then rotted clear to nothingness. All was silent suddenly. The Doctor dropped from the tree, followed close behind by SKorrpeon. “And that is what’s SUPPOSED to happen.” The fox said, shaking his arms.
First BloodView OnlineAngelic WeepingFirst BloodThe two sat by the fire, both keeping an eye for movements. “You know,” Skorpeon tapped a finger on his steel cup. “I really don’t know how smart it is to be sitting by a fire when we’re being hunted. “Why are you tapping like that?” The Doctor glanced at Skorpeon’s paws. “It’s what I do.” Skorpeon shrugged, “Ever since I started my Junior High orchestra class, I’ve been tapping rhythms.” “But why THAT particular one?” “What?” The Doctor sighed, “One two three four. One two three four. It plagued a… friend of mine to the point he tried to kill all humanity because of it.” Skorpeon stopped, “Sorry. It’s just been a force of habit.” “How did you come across it?” The Doctor took a sip from his mug. Another shrug from the Fox. “I don’t know. I was a Violinist in the orchestra. The Violins and Cellos were placed near percussion, so I picked up a fair amount of rhythm. Other than that…” Both sighed, relapsing into silence. “Did you hear that?” The Doctor turned his head, “That noise.” Skorpeon shrugged, “It’s just a squirrel.” “Why do people always say stuff like that?!” The Doctor leapt up, his cup clattering into the fire, “’It’s only a bird!’ ‘It’s only a Squirrel!’ No! It’s really an interdimensional shapeshifter that’s ready to disembowel you and use your eyes for Pool Balls!” Skorpeon shook his head, “No, it’s a Squirrel. See?” He pointed a paw at the small creature, curious to the newcomers. The Doctor sighed, “Oh. Sorry. Been around to many thin-headed humans.” “’Sal right.” Skorpeon picked the squirrel up. “No harm done.” “How did you know, though.” The Doctor locked eyes with Skorpeon, “You seem to know when things will attack where.” “Nah,” Skorpeon gave the creature in his lap another nut, “I can just tell what they plan to do. I can sense their intentions.” “How?” Skorpeon looked up, lips curled back in a grin, “The Shadows. My natural element.” “Right.” The Doctor drew a blank, “And how--” Skorpeon stood, allowing the squirrel to chatter off into the shadows, “Take, for example, telepaths; they can read thoughts, control minds, and even change memories. “Also take the tele-kinetics; they can create physical forms and pseudo-realities based on the thoughts around them. “Then there are elemental users; we can utilize a single element that can describe us, and tap into the energies and actions of our surroundings. “The sensing of intentions taps into the innermost energies from living creatures. If you say, ‘let’s kill Hitler,’ then I will sense your intentions of killing him. But if you say, ‘I love Rose Tyler’, I may be able to read intentions that may not be safe for children.” “And how does that coincide?” “Simple: If you plan something, I’ll know. If you say something, I’ll figure it out. If you even THINK about doing something, I can pick it up.” “And you get that all the time?” “Mmm hmm.” Skorpeon nodded, “I can even tell if there is a certain lavender Unicorn hiding in the trees above us, trying to blend in and see what we’re up to.” “And is there?” Skorpeon grinned holding a finger up, “Shimmah!” “WAUGH!” Twilight fell from the tree, right onto a black patch of water. “What are you doing Twi?” Skorpeon didn’t even look back at her, “I told you to stay with Dragen.” She sighed, “She’s with Miles and Fluttershy.” The Fox turned, “And what do you plan to do Twi? I told you, we are hunting MURDERERS. Blinking murderers. You are not safe!” “Skor.” “I want to see if you are going to be okay!” Twilight’s eyes started to brim, “I don’t like it when you go off on your little missions.” “Skor.” “I understand love.” Skorpepon took her face in his paws, “But you need to stay away in safety. I can’t have you running about here. One touch and you’re dead.” “Skor!” “Yeah!” Twilight set a hoof on Skorpeon’s chest, “That means for you too!” “But I have a way to get back.” “Skor!” “But still, what if one of these days you find you can’t Apparate?” “I haven’t had a wand for years now. If I wasn’t going to be able to Apparate, it would’ve happened YEARS ago.” “SKOR!” Twilight sighed, “But I still worry.” The Fox pulled her into a hug, “Don’t.” “SKORPEON!” “WHAT?!” “Look.” The Doctor was pointing at a statue of a Pegasus that was holding it’s hooves to its eyes. “Ah, hell.” Skorpeon shoved Twilight behind him. “Do. NOT. Blink.”
