Fluffy Life

Breksa sighed and walked down the rain-covered sidewalk, the light of morning just barely illuminating the surroundings. It had been a long night, and her emotional state was in shambles on the inside. Her horns, long, slightly wavy, and with crescent moon shapes at the end, made it hard to actually hold her umbrella out of fear of the edges of the curves puncturing it and ruining it. The lanky troll had experienced a particularly traumatic night shift at the fluffy pony shop involving a robbery, along with the shooting of her friend and coworker, Beck. Beck was incredibly annoying at times, and would often tease Breksa about her relationship with Avalon, intentionally making her highly uncomfortable. Sometimes, Breksa hated her. That didn't mean she wanted the poor girl dead, though. Beck had a bright future ahead of her. She was a quirky human college student who could often be seen wearing a shirt with a derpy potato somewhere on it. Her favorite hobby was annoying the shit out of everyone and giving way too much information about what was going on in her life, sometimes randomly announcing that she had the shits during Pesterchum memos and making everyone uncomfortable. Her Chumhandle had been potatoDestroyer, and...

PD: she talked with obnoxious green text sure to make anyones eyes bleed

PD: she had a very fuckin casual speech pattern

PD: she never used punctuation of any sort

PD: AND SHE OFTEN WENT ALL CAPS ON BITCHES FOR STUPID REASONS

Despite everything, she was a great friend, and would gladly cut the shit when the situation required it. But now, Beck was dead, and there was nothing anyone could have done about it. The douchebag responsible shot her right in the heart upon entering the store, and she was dead on the spot. He then proceeded to steal all the fluffies in the store as they sat in their cages, quite literally shitting themselves in fear. He also took all the sorry sticks and sorry boxes. The thought of what he was probably doing to the poor things filled Breksa with rage. Judging by the shit he took, he was probably going to torture the little creatures until they straight-up died of shock, which was practically child abuse in Breksa's eyes. Fluffies were adorable. Nobody could deny that. They were fuzzy, they had huge eyes, and they could even talk. That was impressive, and it made them all the more endearing. But for whatever reason, even though it was illegal, people would often torture them to death for sick pleasure. But enough thinking. Breksa brushed her long, black hair out of her face and kept walking, blinking back tears from her eyes, which had the typical orange sclerae of a troll, along with indigo-colored irises. Nobody would even see her tears because of all the damn rain, but Beck was the type of person to go...

PD: oh noes i am dead

PD: now go on with your life you piece of shit

PD: i dont need bitches cryin about me

So, she'd do it for her. She once straight-up said that exact phrase when asked what she'd think if she died and left everyone behind during a particularly deep one-on-one Pesterchum chat during a long night shift. She straightened her shoulders and walked with a determined look. There had been enough crying during the shift. She tried not to think about Beck, but all that came up was the scene of the crime as it appeared on camera.

Death was not as dramatic and drawn-out as it tended to be on television. Breksa had been watching the cameras, occasionally pausing to look at the cute fluffies doing cute fluffy things, and then bam. Beck had been on guard duty in the main area of the shop. Douchebag McSadist smashed a window to get in. Douchebag pulled a gun on Beck. The deed was done over the course of a few seconds. Beck was on the floor, blood trickling from the wound in her chest and staining the purple-striped white shirt of her uniform. A pin in the shape of her signature weird potato had been shot right through. It all unfolded on the cameras in front of Breksa, and she had been paralyzed with shock. She spent the rest of the night shift flipping back and forth between the same two cameras at the back of the store, not really seeing anything, tears streaming down her gray cheeks the whole time.

Back to the present, Breksa abruptly stopped walking. Was that chirping she heard? She darted into an alley, where she heard the chirping. Sure enough, there was a newborn Alicorn fluffy curled up on the ground, crying for its mother, who had obviously rejected it. The fluffy had light, sky blue fur, along with a white mane. It didn't even have its eyes open yet. The poor thing would die out here, and Breksa didn't need any more death tonight. She walked over to the little thing and picked it up. It was crying, it was soaked with rain, and it was cold to the touch. The newborn struggled and squirmed, but Breksa held it close and continued on her normal walk home, not noticing that it passed out soon after until she got home. At least one good thing came out of all this.