The Manehattan Project

by thegeeman

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Sad, Romance, Tragedy, Slice of Life, Human
Length: 3990

Pinkie moves to the big city in order to find her best friends all over again.

Pinkie moves to the big city in order to find her friends who have moved there much earlier before her. When she encounters them, she gets much, much more than she expected from them. Has the city corrupted her buddies or are the still the friends she has loved many years ago?

Humanized because it fits the mode better. Will contain sex (probably not too graphic but if it ends up being that way I'll change the rating), drugs, violence, death, regret, forgiveness, coming of age, and the slice of life in general.

*^* = Song cue. Go ahead listen along! If there is a song that may fit the situation better than please comment.

Feedback is appreciated. If you have humanization and slight OOC than all I can say is this may not be for you. You have been warned.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-13 01:27:26 UTC

1

The Manehattan Project

Ch.1

*^* “I Don’t Want Love” by The Antlers.

“Damn, 5 years”...

Here sits a young woman lounging on a strangely vacant subway trailing through the underground speedway of the vast and not-so-vacant Manehattan. A woman who was once  a naive, carefree soul now seeing life for what it is rather than what I can make out of it. Well, I may still be naive, and carefree at times, but I was much more optimistic several years ago. It’s not like I’m depressed, but after half a decade of home truths (no pun intended) and hefty servings of humble pie, I’ve been able to see my world more realistically. I’ve done much more than just grow 5 years older.

About that pun...

I think I’ll talk about it later. For now I have a purpose. Oh, how can I be so dense? You don’t know who I am. Or why I’m in Manehattan. Or what 5 years have to do with anything. Well, to start, My name is Pinkamena but my friends used to call me Pinkie. Probably because of my iconic hairstyle and my simple taste in fashion, but I digress. 5 years ago my best friends all got together and made the executive decision to move here together in hopes of finding a fresh outlook or pathway in life. I was beyond stoked for this idea. Back then I was notorious for being quite a party animal and Manehattan is pretty generous to anyone looking for an invigorating nightlife. I wanted more than parties though. I used to work at a small bakery back in my old town that focused mostly on cupcakes and muffins and all sorts of sweet and sugary delicates. Before moving I pondered about making a shop here for myself and getting recognized as a world class confectionist. Yeah, not very realistic or practical. I understand.

I’ve not the slightest idea how to find my past comrades. I’m sure that in a few decades I’ll bump into one of them in a coffee shop, have a quick “catching up” chat and then carry on never making an effort to keep in touch. Although finding someone would be splendid. Why wouldn’t it?

Not to be inconsiderate but they’re not the issue right now. I have some money saved up for finding a hotel, or maybe a super cheap apartment. The latter of the two being better in the long run. I though about one you see in most Manehattan-based TV shows with the cheap but somewhat elegant brick wall interior along with faulty appliances, showers that were never warm, and at least one noisy neighbor. Perhaps two would be interesting. Oh! Here’s something! The front of this slightly dilapidated building stated

“One Bedroom Apts. Available. 450/m utilities included.”

Now I wasn’t expecting a complete and utter slum, but I understood that the place wasn’t going to be a real joy to own. That must be my newly honed sense of reality kicking in. But think about it! I’ve only been in Manehatten for a couple hours and here is a place I can afford to rest my head in for a good 4 months or so thanks to my personal savings. Surely I wouldn’t pass up a steal like this.

*^* “Other People” by Beach House

“So you would like the room?” the landlady asked redundantly.

“Yes, very much. May I ask what room and floor this apartment is? Just curious.” I replied with a semi-confident tone in my inflection.

“Well kid, you’re lucky and not so lucky”

“What do you mean”

“You’re lucky because it’s not on the first floor!” The lady followed that statement with a healthy chuckle before killing the mood with the bad news. “Unfortunately the renters before you and the renters before the renters before you have all moved out due to an unfitting atmosphere.”

She seemed almost too nonchalant in that confession. She said something that would possibly turn off a client without any hesitation and probably still expected me to agree to a room that I’ll probably end up regretting after the first month. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll have the place!”

“Oh, you’re such a doll”! Giving me a pinch on the cheek while praising my decision. “Follow me I’ll help you get all set up.

The apartment was pretty much what I was looking for at the least. To my delight the walls were decorated in the elegant brick design I’ve explained before. That was the only delightful aspect of it though. As expected the showers ran too cold, the appliances were as old as the city itself, the floors creaked, the roof was cracked and bedroom was painted in a revolting shade of purple that felt more intrusive than inviting. The only con that didn’t reveal itself immediately was the neighbor problem.

I was just about to get lost in my sleep. Considering I just moved into a very sketchy apartment in an equally sketchy part of an overall sketchy city, I was ready to sleep like a baby. That is until some obnoxious racket interrupted my inaugural housewarming beauty rest. It was hard to make out the noise in the beginning, but the noise was followed up by some yelling. Ok, there was way too much yelling going on but I could make out some of it. And it wasn’t pretty.

“I heard you’ve been trying to export in my building. Anything you got to say about this Missy?”

It seemed like something was about to go down. Then there was another voice that I assume was the one being called “Missy”.

“This is my building, I’ll sell what I want, for however much I want, to whomever I want, whenever the fuck I want to!” Ya got that Jerkoff?”

Hmm. Not sure why but “Missy” had such a recognizable tone to her voice. The action was starting to get real serious and I could not possibly ignore the progression of such juicy drama. I was regarded as the curious one back in the day and that characteristic hasn’t changed one bit. I decided to go check out what was going on from a bit of a closer perspective. As I paced down the stairs, the conversation continued on with intentions growing more and more sinister.

*^* “Flange Face” by The Gaslamp Killer

“ I swear to God, if you don’t open this door to have a nice civil conversation and stop upsetting our lovely neighbors, I’ll be more than happy to shoot the door open.” exclaimed the one known as Jerkoff.

The action was getting too tense. Here I was peeping on the dispute first hand with this big, haggard looking man about to give a very violent disposition to this young, “whatever she was”. I’m not exactly educated on the colloquial expression of “exporting”. As he pulled out his gun and aimed right at the lock, The figure I only recognized as “Missy” walked up to the door ready to deal with the issue in a more “personal” style.

“Finally going to open up?” he snickered. “It’s not like I would actually shoo...”

Bang! A shot rang from what I thought was a double barrel behind the door of “Missy”. Thankfully she didn’t intend to shoot or kill Jerkoff. She just fired a warning shot at his feet which may or may not have sent shrapnel into his ankle. Jerkoff was freaked out of his mind. With all of his remaining adrenaline he rushed down the hall limping from his shrapnel wound.

But Missy wasn’t finished. Swiftly pacing down the hall with a hood up and her trusty means of self-defence in her hands she began to reload her weapon in hot pursuit of her verbal assailant. Surely this was all in an attempt to scare him right? Please let that be the case. Even if that was her intent, Jerkoff was already in the elevator descending to safety. That didn’t stop Missy from threatening him with another warning shot.

“And if I see your sorry ass in this place once more, I swear to God, I will blow your fucking brains out!”

Wait a minute! That tone, that attitude, It all seemed too familiar now. I needed to know the true identity of this crazy lady. I walked up to her steadily in order to not give her the wrong idea which would result in me getting shot at. I said the only thing I could think of to get her attention without coming off as hostile.

“Umm... excuse me...”

That caught Missy’s attention. It’s almost as if she had the same sort of epiphany as I did a short time ago. She didn’t say anything. All she did was turn around and stare me down with her hood up over her head. I couldn’t make her out, but her gasp led me on to her knowing who I was. For that moment I was frozen in time. No words or expressions could have came to me then. I was just there staring at some psycho-looking bitch with a double barrel shotgun who may or may not be in deep trouble. After a long stare down, she finally decided to let down the hood and reveal her true self to me.

Words were not spoken, neither were they necessary. It seemed as though our hair was enough, as strange as that sounds.

2

Ch.2

Seconds into our staredown, words were not spoken. Our embrace was something that felt so substantial that mere dialogue would meddle in our blissful inertness. The inertness would eventually be broken as this old friend of mine would leap for me and embrace my presence with the tightest of hugs around my waist.

“Pinks! I’m so glad to see you!!!” exclaimed this woman who went from furious to petrified to completely engulfed with glee. I remained silent as even up to then no proper sentences could be conceived. “Don’t you remember me?” she asks with a diminished sense of joy. “It’s me... Dash!”

It finally clicked into my brain. I was finally assured that this raging inferno of a being was one of my lost comrades in Manehattan. Even though her trademark rainbow coloured fringe stood out like a sore thumb, I could not come up with any sort of name to go with it. I did not let this get to me as I was much too exuberant to have actually found one of my old friends. It’s as if some unknown force is guiding me down the right path. First the apartment and now Rainbow Dash crushing me in her gleeful state. Come to think of it that hug was quite painful. I finally mustered up some words to say to her after a much drawn out period of silence.

“Ughh. Hi Dash. Ughh, long time no see.” It’s mighty difficult to think when someone is practically strangling you.

“Oh, sorry. I must have gotten a bit too giddy. I suppose engaging in a shootout and then meeting up with you has really made me all worked up. About the whole gun thing...”

“It’s ok, I sort of understood what the deal was. After all I heard some of it upstairs.”

“Upstairs? You mean to say you’re my upstairs neighbour?”

“As of this afternoon yes.”

“God damn! Small fucking world we live in.”

*^* “Crystalised” by The xx

We both chuckled at the comment. Some loosening of tension was needed deeply. After another period of silence, this one being a bit more awkward than the first, Dash makes an effort to get caught up with what has gone on for the past few years since I was gone.

“So... I know it’s late and all but did you want to come in and chat for a bit? You know, to get all reacquainted and stuff.”

How could I have not wanted too? “Yes of course! I was really hoping you’d ask.”

As I walk into Dash’s apartment, I found myself basking in such shockingly glorious furnishes. A luxurious leather couch, latest model appliances and electronics, her king sized bed in her only bedroom, a fully remodeled bathroom and many neat little odds and ends that made up a bigger picture. But there was one piece that distinguished itself amongst the rest. There was a coffee table that was shaped a bit like a treasure chest and had some minute designs in it that resembled a chest but still had enough table-like features to be more so a table than a chest. To explain it better, the table had a flat surface and legs but the table curved underneath in a hump-like shape as if there was a secret compartment.

Although we were supposed to try to get caught up, we still found ourselves at almost total silence aside from some heavier than usual breathing from Dash (which was totally justified) and the humming of the old furnace which could not be replaced unless with special permission from the landlady. Since Dash was a common cause of controversy that permission will probably never get granted. Looking at the stuff on the walls I come up with the only icebreaker I could muster up.

“This furniture looks pretty high end I must say. Your job here in city must pay you quite fine if you could afford this kind of overhaul.” Dash had a look of nervousness on  her face but it wasn’t anything suspicious. “Speaking of that, what is your job here?” There was something about that question that made Dash’s nervousness transform into a lightened state of paranoia.

“Well... I do some... delivery services here. It pays surprisingly well. About 2500 a week or so.” Something felt off about that story. I plunged for more.

“So if you earn that much money, why live in such a low-end apartment and buy a bunch of high-end stuff to complement it with? Couldn’t you afford a better place?” Dash started to scamper mentally. Maybe I shouldn’t have broke the ice this way.

“I like expensive stuff. I figured that having a cheap place would give me more liberty in my spending. Feels great too!” I contemplated whether I should dive in more or find another topic. What do you deliver? Why was someone at your apartment with a gun? Why are you so nervous right now? Instead I said this.

“Are you enjoying the city?” the anxiety finally left Rainbow. Before she could give a response, some knocking came with a very heavenly sounding voice from the hallway.

“Oh Dashie! Your favourite customer is here!” The heavenly voice then started to scream in a very hellish tone. “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR DOOR?!?! ARE THOSE HOLES? FROM BULLETS?!?!” Without being let in, this distraught woman barged in, worried as ever. The sight of Dash unharmed was more than enough to calm down but not enough to keep her from worrying a little. “Thank goodness you’re fine! I saw those holes and I thought you were robbed, or even killed! I told you your other clients would eventually start turning on you. That’s why I told you “Less clients, bigger prices”. You’d earn the same and have much, much less of these gun-wielding lunatics trying to blow your door in.”

Dash was then struck with a bevy of emotions that were hard to pinpoint. She appeared as if she had seen a ghost fly by, making her already pale skin loose all pigments remaining in her system. “Umm... Rarity. This is Diane. You remember her from a long time ago right?” Dash stated with a nervous chuckle preceding.

Rarity? As in THE Rarity we all knew and loved? She didn’t even look a step out of  line with her fancy get up that was most likely either made by her or at least purchased at some overpriced boutique. She still had her glamorous, glistening purple hairstyle that reached half way down her back and down to her shoulders in the front. She still spoke in her calm ladylike tone and her yelling still sounded like she saw someone died in her arms. This indeed was THE Rarity.

“Pinkie! What a sight for sore eyes. I’ve been longing for the day we would rekindle our friendship in this fine city. I have so much to talk about and surely you have plenty of stories to share yourself. But before all that I need to...” Rarity then trailed off, realizing her notorious knack of speaking too much might have put Dash into a very uncomfortable position. “Um, Dashie. Did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

As confused as ever, I decided to get some answers. “Rarity, I’m glad to see you and I’d love to get reacquainted with both you and Dash but... What are you two talking about? Does this have anything to do with the “exporting” that one guy from before was talking about? Also what’s with that table?”

Rarity then turned to Dash with just as much curiosity in her face as Pinkie did. “Who the hell is this other guy she’s talking about? Did he attack you? Is that why there’s a hole in the front door? Dashie answer me!” Why is she calling her Dashie? Dash’s nervousness then turned to frustration.

“Babe, can you please stop? You always have to escalate everything and I can’t stand that.” Did she just call Rarity “Babe”?

“Do not call me babe in that tone. It’s very degrading to my character. Besides I’ve done nothing wrong have I?”

“Your big mouth just fucked me over not even 10 seconds ago! I have every right to get mad at you!”

“ You could at do yourself some good and simmer down a little. I understand you’ve been under some stress but that doesn’t give you the right to take out your frustration on me.”

“I’m pissed because of you! Not because of my stress. Why must you be so fucking dense all the time?” I could not stand for anymore of this bickering. I wanted answers now.

“CAN YOU TWO PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I wasn’t doing much to change RD’s reputation as a rowdy neighbour. My “reacquaintance-ees” finally stopped with the arguing and both donned a very grieving. RD moreso than Rarity. Dash finally came to her senses and let me in on what was really going on. Grabbing a key from inside a shoe box on a desk, she opened what I previously thought was a fake lock and lifted the top of her coffee table, revealing a hefty stash of taupe-coloured bricks all wrapped up in cling wrap.

“Dash, what is this?” I ask, shocked as I could ever be.

“My job... I’m deal heroin for a living.” mutters Rainbow in a very frustrated but subdued tone. I was completely floored by this news. To have ever thought that any of my friends dealing drugs would be insane, especially heroin and especially Rainbow as the dealer of this infernal substance. As I stood there in complete awe, Rarity tries to snag some of her product. “Rare, this isn’t the time!”

“But Dashie, you know how I get if I’m in withdraw.” the purple haired vixen replies while caressing Dash’s cheek in a sultry yet currently unappreciated manner. My expression was still frozen in awe.

“Also Rarity and I have been dating for a year or so.” Rainbow admits. Now i was curled up in a fetal position trying to gather my senses or at least comprehend the reality of the situation. Was this really reality? Was it just a cruel dream? I mean not of what just happened seems believable but It was happening. I started to tear up a little and my tears caused Rarity to join in. Dash wasn’t crying but she was feeling extremely remorseful about what her friend just had to go through.

“Look I know you’re mad at us, and disappointed maybe, but...” Dash trailed off almost about to shed a tear with the rest of us. Rarity couldn’t even have chimed in on the situation as her tears started to build up to the point that she required a trip to the washroom to settle herself down. “You can be as mad at us as you want. I suppose we deserve it.”

Wait, mad? Did she really think I was mad? “How could I be mad at you or Rarity?”

“I suppose some form of anger can come from figuring out your friend deals heroin, and other friend is addicted to my product.”

“Rarity is an addict?!”

“*sigh* fuck my life” whispers Dash now even more steeped in self-resentment.

“Dash it’s ok. I’m not mad at all. In fact there’s no way I could be mad at you two right now.” Trying to reassure her.

“But how?” she askes.

“You two are two of my bestest friends! News like this, as shocking as it may be, isn’t nearly enough to break up our friendship. Of course I would have never expected any of this to happen but I know deep down you’re dealing with the best intentions and Rarity, on or off drugs, is still the Rarity I knew half a decade ago”.

“Maybe not the exact same, pretty damn close though” Dash chuckles with a more relieved attitude. Speaking of relieved, Rarity was the exact opposite running out of the bathroom.

“Pinkie I’m so sorry, will you ever forgive me?! It’s not what it seems! I really have a good reason to explain everything! Just give me another chance!” shouted by a still watery eyed lady staining her vest with her tears.

“It’s ok really! You’ve done nothing that has to be apologized for.” says me, giving Dash a look over her shoulder.

The three of us though that amidst all of the chaos going on that we should settle in for the night. I was offered to stay on the couch or if I prefered to just stay in my apartment for the night.

“The couch is comfy but rather tiny for sleeping on. Are you sure? It’s fine if you’d rather sleep at your room.” coming from a pondering Rarity.

“No it’s fine. Totally cool with me.” I assure her. I still wanted to be in some form of company even though we were all about to sleep. What a first day here in Manehattan. Definitely it was a crazy night that won’t be forgotten for more ways than one, but the pros outweigh the cons by a longshot. “I’m just glad that after all that’s happened over the last 45 minutes or so, nothing else out of the ordinary will happen.” trying to lighten the mood a little with a joke. “Hell maybe I’ll figure out tomorrow that Fluttershy lives in the jungle with all of the bears and tigers and such.”

When I made that comment, RD and Rarity gave eachother a very discrepant stare. “Wait, she doesn’t actually live in the jungle right?” I ask worryingly.

“Uh, no... of course not. Actually her life is far from that lifestyle, or any lifestyle for that matter.” chimes in Rarity.

“What? Is something wrong with her?” I ask. Rainbow starts to get her nervous expression back.

“Well, how about you we all get some shut eye and we go visit her in the morning?” Rarity then shares the same look on her face.

*^* “Haiti” by Arcade Fire

“Yeah, great idea.” I started to get their vibes a little, but not enough to scare me away from visiting another friend. Not in the mood to fear for the worse, I got nice and comfy on the leather loveseat and wished my friends a good night.

I mean come on, what could be the WORSE thing to happen to Shy?