1: "Testify" and "Needles"
Graveyard shift at the 7-11 again. Oliver sighed, leaning back against the wall as he casually browsed the internet on his phone. The overnight shifts were nice, mostly because nobody else wanted to take them so he always got plenty of hours, but also because he was the only employee in the store and so few people actually came in to do business. He got plenty of peace and quiet to himself throughout the night. It could be a double-edged sword, since the people who did show up were often really strange, but it had never been anything he couldn't handle.
Tonight had been especially quiet. Since sunset, he'd only had one customer actually come into the store, and barely any more fill up outside. It was just the way he liked it, but he got the sinking suspicion it wouldn't last forever. It never did.
As if on cue, the electronic bell rang as the door swung open. Oliver hastily set his phone down on the counter and turned to face the new customer.
"Welcome to 7-11," he droned, observing the young woman entering the store. She was taller than him, but looked about his age. She had the look of a ranch hand: broad and muscular, wearing a cowboy hat and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Oliver wasn't surprised; Florida had a huge cattle industry, and Fairweather in particular was surrounded by cattle ranches. He'd seen hundreds of ranchers over the years.
The woman looked around, then seemed to zero in on Oliver. She idly scratched at her hair beneath her hat, as if unsure what to say.
"Ah... howdy," she finally worked out. "You uh... y'all got a map?"
Oliver gave her an odd look, confused by the question. "A map? Like, of the town? Can't you just look on your phone?"
She looked bewildered for a moment, letting out a long "uh..." and looking around, as if the answer would present itself to her from thin air.
"She... forgot it!" a voice from below the counter suddenly called out. "At... at home!"
Leaning forward to see who had spoken, Oliver saw a rather short kid in a hoodie, with his hair done up in a green mohawk. Odd company for a ranch hand. Probably her little brother or something, going through a rebellious phase.
"Gotcha," Oliver replied, picking his own phone back up. "If you want, I can just show you a map on my phone. Where are you headed?"
The pair looked at each other, then back at Oliver.
"Uh... Key West," the woman finally said. "Is it far from here?"
Oliver blinked, giving the woman another odd look. "You don't know where the keys are? It's more than a bit of a hike. If you're headed down that way, you really ought to get your phone before you leave."
She said nothing in response, but watched intently as Oliver pulled up his maps app and put in the information. Oliver missed the look of absolute wonder on her face, focused on the screen as he was.
"Alright, here," he said as the map loaded, showing a route from Fairweather in roughly the center of the state, down to the keys and eventually ending in Key West. "It's about 350 miles, you see? A 5-and-a-half hour drive, if you're lucky. Heading down to Key West isn't some day trip, you know."
"350 miles?" the woman repeated, looking at the phone in confusion. "And how do y'all reckon we'd get that far in under 6 hours?"
"What do you mean?" Oliver asks, befuddled by the odd girl for a third time in as many minutes. "You'd drive, of cour-"
The door opened again, the electronic bell heralding the entry of another customer. This time it was a man, as tall as the woman and built nearly as broad, but with a shock of wild electric blue hair and a simple white t-shirt.
"Applejack," he said breathlessly, as if he'd been running. "There's two men, coming this way. They practically reek of magic. The princess and Fluttershy still aren't back yet; we need to hide somewhere."
Oliver set his phone back down, turning his attention to the man with an incredulous expression. "Pardon, what did you just say?"
The guy seemed to ignore him entirely, herding "Applejack" and the kid around the counter against a string of their protests. "Crouch down here, don't make any sound. You-"
He turned and pointed at Oliver, glaring intensely at him.
"Pretend we're making a transaction. You're selling me something, anything. Don't tell them there's anyone else in here, got it?"
"Hey, I don't know what the hell this is about, but," Oliver started, but before he could finish a pair of men entered the store. Oliver glanced their way, seeing a taller guy in sunglasses and a hoodie with a shorter man in a white wife beater.
The man with the blue hair looked at him, this time more pleadingly than commanding, and in the moment Oliver went with his gut.
"...and you said three packs of the menthols, sir?" he started, settling into his tried and true retail voice as he turned to the cigarette cabinet and began picking through it.
"Yes, that's all," the man replied, not missing a beat.
Oliver pretended to look through the cigarettes for a bit, pulling out two packs of Camel menthols and turning back to the pretend customer.
"Be right with you folks!" he said with sickening false cheer in his voice, looking at the pair of punks who were standing behind the man impatiently. Oliver caught sight of them staring at the man and murmuring to each other, and silently prayed this wouldn't go bad.
"Ah, darn, looks like I've only got two of those left," he continued, placing them both on the counter. "Is there another kind you'd like as a replacement? Really sorry about that, by the way."
The blue haired man put on an impressive show of rubbing his chin in contemplation as he looked at the cigarettes in the cabinet. "Ah... let me see. One of the Marlboros should be just fine."
Oliver nodded, keeping the act going. "Sure thing, let me get that for you sir."
As he prepared to turn for a second time, the taller of the two punks stepped up to the counter, shouldering past the man with the blue hair.
"Sorry pal, this'll only take a sec, I promise," he said, his voice calm and smooth. "I'm lookin' for some buddies of mine, see, and I thought I might'a saw 'em comin' in here. Anyone else come in here in the last few minutes, pal?"
A nervous look came over the blue-haired man's face, and Oliver tried to remain passive as he replied.
"No, not recently," he said, turning to reach for the cigarette cabinet. "It's been a slow night, sir. Sorry about that."
"Now come on pal," the delinquent said slowly. "You don't have to lie to little ol' me. Why don't you tell me exactly who came in here before us, huh?"
"I'm telling you sir," Oliver replied, starting to sweat a bit as he turned back around. "There hasn't been anyone else in for a..."
As he locked eyes with the delinquent, who'd lowered his shades to reveal his steel-gray eyes, Oliver felt his mind going numb and his tongue slacken in his mouth. The corners of his vision became fuzzy, and he spoke without thinking.
"A woman and a kid came in," he said in a robotic monotone. "The girl was wearing clothes like a ranch hand, and the kid had a mohawk. Then that guy with the blue hair came, then you two."
The moment he'd finished speaking, whatever hold had been put over him vanished, and he gasped for breath as his senses returned. He nearly fell over from shock, his back hitting the cigarette cabinet with a dull thud.
"Aww, now see?" the punk said, leaning back away from the counter. "Was that so bad? Everything's easier when people cooperate, don't you know?"
The delinquents turned to the man with blue hair, who was glaring at Oliver with an angry expression.
"Why did you tell-!" he started, but was cut off by the shades-wearing punk.
"Ah ah ah, temper there pal!" he said with glee. "Not his fault, you know. It's just my natural charisma at play. After all..."
He lowered his sunglasses again, and his gray eyes seemed to gleam with sinister light.
"No one can deny when they're called to Testify."
The shorter delinquent began to advance on the man, but from beneath the counter the woman suddenly stood up, drawing to her full height and towering over the pair of hooligans.
"Y'all best get on outta here, ya hear?" she said, trying to seem intimidating. Despite her nervous tone, her stature certainly helped her in that regard, but the shorter punk seemed unfazed while the taller one just began to laugh.
"Ha ha ha! Oh man, you people are just a hoot, you know that?"
The taller delinquent looked to his partner in crime and gestured to the girl.
"Daryl, waste this bitch for me would you?"
The shorter punk, apparently named Daryl, simply grunted, raising a hand as steely needles began to emerge from his palm. The woman dove at him, trying to grab him by the collar, but was roughly forced back as the needles launched from Daryl's hand and pin-cushioned her torso. She slammed against the cigarette cabinet, bleeding profusely but still conscious and raring to go.
"Hah, don't go havin' too much fun now Daryl!" the taller delinquent said in a chiding tone. "We still need to question 'em after all."
"Got it, Rodney," Daryl replied, more needles forming in his palms as the woman named Applejack rounded the corner and stalked towards him. Next to her, the man with the blue hair raised his hands and seemed to be ready for a fight.
Once the fight got started in earnest, Oliver ducked behind the counter himself to avoid whatever crazy shit was going on. He caught sight of some blue light in his peripheral vision, and the clattering of those needles against something hard, but kept his head down for fear of getting caught in the crossfire. Next to him, the kid with the mohawk tried to get up and see what was happening, but Oliver roughly shoved him back down.
"Stay here," he whispered to the kid, his voice showing his panic. "That guy had fucking needles in his hands! You stay right here!"
The kid opened his mouth as if to protest, but shut it again when he saw Oliver's desperate expression. Oliver, after a few moments of hyperventilating, reached into his pocket for his phone only to find it gone. It took every ounce of his willpower not to start panicking again, and once his mind was clear he remembered that he'd left it on the counter.
He needed to call the police. Whatever was going on, he absolutely needed to call the police. Swallowing hard and steeling his nerves, he peeked up from behind the counter and caught sight of the fight taking place.
Shelves had been smashed and knocked over as the combatants moved around the small store, taking cover from each others' attacks behind whatever they could get their hands on. The blue-haired man, much to Oliver's further bewilderment, had a glowing blue barrier raised in front of him and the so-called Applejack girl. Applejack herself looked particularly worse for wear, and seemed to have taken the majority of Daryl's needles over the course of the fight. She was on the ground, and seemed to be only just hanging onto consciousness.
Oliver saw his phone on the edge of the counter and slowly put out his left hand, reaching towards it and wrapping his fingers around the device. He dared to grin at his success, and started pulling it back towards him...
...when abruptly pain blossomed in his hand as a hail of needles struck it. Crying out in pain, he dropped the phone, which had thankfully taken the brunt of the needles instead of his hand. Unfortunately, it was now very, very broken.
"Nice try, mister clerk!" Rodney called out, grinning like mad as Daryl returned his attention to the blue-haired man. "Too bad for you, I'm a bit too perceptive for that. Hah!"
Nursing his bleeding hand and trying not to pass out at the sight of so much of his own blood, Oliver ducked back down below the counter. He tried desperately to steady his breathing, but didn't find much luck. The kid next to him was starting to panic too, which certainly did nothing to help Oliver's own nerves.
"Come on, pal!" Rodney shouted gleefully at his opponent. "Drop your shield already compadre! Let's sort this shit out like real men! Aren't you gettin' tired or somethin'?"
From this angle, Oliver could just barely see the blue-haired guy, panting and sweating behind that barrier he seemed to be holding up. Applejack seemed to be down for the count at this point.
"I'm exhausted," the man with the blue hair replied in a nearly robotic fashion. The momentary lapse in his concentration caused his shield to falter momentarily, but he brought it back up just in time for another wave of needles to smack into it.
Oliver could hear Rodney clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Shit, so close that time too! Can't you be any faster on the draw with those needles, Daryl?"
"Doin' my best man," Daryl drawled, preparing another volley.
As they bickered back and forth, Oliver's panicked mind raced as he tried to think of something to do. Without his phone he couldn't call the police, and if the delinquents were concerned about that they definitely wouldn't let him escape. All he wanted to do was get the hell out this... whatever this was, but as long as those goons were around he had no chance.
He looked at the space beneath the counter behind him, and saw the old aluminum baseball bat the manager had left there. Oliver thought back to his first day working here, with the manager trying to convince him it was for protection in case of a robbery. Oliver hadn't taken it seriously then, and he certainly didn't take it seriously now, but what options did he have?
Peeking around the side of the counter this time rather than the top, Oliver eyed the fallen shelves and wondered what he could do in a situation like this. His eyes scanned the wreckage, and a wicked thought came to him. It was an awful plan, truly, but it was all he had.
Shining Armor groaned and heaved as fatigue weighed heavily on his limbs. Behind him Applejack was barely conscious, but Discord's goons seemed to be fresh as daisies. The taller one, Rodney, was surprisingly crafty, using his focus to disrupt Shining's concentration like that. Shining resolved to stay mentally braced for the next time that happened.
"Tick tock pal, tick tock!" Rodney taunted, grinning widely. "You're gonna have to put that wall down sooner or later, and when you do, you're gonna get a first-class acupuncture treatment!"
Shining grunted in annoyance at the thug's attempts at banter, but couldn't ignore how right he was. He wouldn't last much longer, and using his own focus was draining what energy he had left fast. He wracked his brain for a plan, but none were forthcoming. He could only pray the Princess would get here soon.
"You know, I'd offer you mercy in exchange for your info," Rodney said. "But you'll just tell me everythin' I wanna know anyways. My Testify can't be resisted, after all. Between that and my boy Daryl's Needles, we're just about an unstoppa-"
From behind the delinquents, a rectangular white bottle sailed through the air, colliding with Rodney's head with a deep thud and falling to the ground, spilling its contents all over the place. Rodney was sent reeling, clutching the back of his head in pain.
"Augh! Holy shit, oww! What the fuck!"
He and Daryl turned, directing their attention to the store clerk, now out in the open with his arm outstretched from throwing the bottle. The look of terror on his face was plain for Shining to see, and while he commended the young man's efforts he was sure it wouldn't end well for him.
Rodney's grimace twisted into a vile smirk. "Well, well, well. Look at you! Mister Gas Station Clerk over here, playin' the big time hero. How's it feel, pal? How's it feel to be a hero tonight?"
"Awful," the clerk, or Oliver as Shining read from his name tag, said monotonously, forced to respond by Rodney's Testify. Shining couldn't blame him.
Rodney threw back his head, cackling. "Well good! You fuckin' deserve it you little shitbag. Not that we were gonna let you live or anything, but now we're gonna kill you first! Daryl!"
Daryl raised his hand, ready to make Oliver into a pin-cushion, but the young man raised a hand defensively. "H-hey, hey! Wait!"
"And why should we?" Rodney asked, voice dripping with derision. Regardless, Daryl had held his fire for the moment.
"B-because," he continued, "I've... got something... for you..."
Rodney's mouth dropped open a bit, and indeed Shining was also rather bemused at such a silly ploy.
"You think we're fuckin' stupid or somethin'?" Rodney asked, gesturing to himself and Daryl.
"I was really hoping so," Oliver offered in a monotone, causing Shining to hold back a grin despite himself and Rodney to growl in anger.
"Enough of this shit! Daryl, put a fuckin' round in..."
"What is it?" Daryl asked.
The whole room went silent, as everyone's eyes went to Daryl, who simply stared at the clerk with a curious expression.
The clerk, seeming to realize his chance, pulled an object out of his pocket.
"It's a... a-a one way... it's a ticket to..." he stammered, brandishing a box of matches. "It's a o-one way ticket... oh fuck it, I'm too fucking nervous..."
He lit one of the matches, and it was only then that the smell of the lighter fluid pooling around Daryl and Rodney's feet hit everyone's noses.
"W-wait!" Rodney suddenly said, taking a step back. "Wait wait wait! Don't!"
But Oliver had already flicked the match forwards, landing in the pool of flammable liquid at the goons' feet and igniting it all in an instant. Fire licked at their heels, racing up their pant legs and spreading to the piles of foodstuffs that had been scattered and knocked about. Oliver ran for the exit, gesturing to Shining and Spike, who had just left the cover of the counter.
"Come on!" he screamed. "I'm not waiting up for you, damn it!"
He ran out of he building, forcing Shining to haul Applejack up onto his shoulders alone and trudge out after him. Spike tried to help, but couldn't do much and simply followed after him.
In the parking lot outside, Oliver fell to his knees and heaved, vomiting the contents of his stomach all over the concrete. He was vaguely aware of movement in his peripheral vision, and saw the kid and the blue-haired guy coming up beside him, with their friend Applejack in tow. He caught the man staring at him, narrowing his eyes as if scrutinizing him.
"...What?" he asked flatly, after panting a bit more and wiping away bile from the corners of his mouth.
"I don't know what to make of you," blue hair replied simply.
"A 'thanks' would sure be swell."
"You were saving yourself, not us. You said as much."
Oliver just grunted, slowly standing back up and dusting himself off. After a moment, the blue-haired man sighed.
"I'm Shining Armor," he said, carefully setting Applejack down and turning to face Oliver. "I... guess I will thank you, after all. It was brave, what you did, even if it was motivated by selfishness."
"My mistake," Oliver replied. "I must've missed the memo that said wanting to survive was selfish now."
The two glared at each other for a moment, before the kid interposed himself between the two.
"A-and I'm Spike!" he said, trying to diffuse the tension. "It's uh, real nice to meet you!"
Oliver looked down at Spike, before rolling his eyes and grinning slightly.
"Oliver Rhine," he said, pulling off the apron that was part of his uniform. "Your hair's pretty cool, Spike."
"O-oh!" Spike stuttered, as if not expecting the compliment. "Uh, thanks. It's... how I've always done it."
Oliver decided not to question that comment, or the fact that two of these people were apparently named "Shining Armor" and "Applejack". Really, who names their kid that? Ridiculous.
Speaking of, the woman in question stirred, groaning as she opened her eyes and looked up at the others.
"Is it over?" she asked, eyes darting between the figures above her.
"Guess so," Oliver said, stretching a bit. "You all better stay here until the police inevitably arrive. We're going to have to give them a full account of what happened for the police report. I hope you'll vouch for me when I tell them about the two guys I..."
He trailed off, turning to look at the 7-11 whose roof was now collapsing as the building was engulfed in flames.
"...I just killed two guys," he said softly, sitting down hard on the pavement. The drop hurt his ass like hell, but he was more concerned with other things at the moment.
"It was all you could do," Shining Armor said, walking up and crouching next to him. "They were set on killing all of us, they said as much. The moment they made that explicit, you were justified. It's not pleasant to think about, and it won't be easy to get over, but it was your only option."
Oliver remained silent, grinding his teeth together as he mulled over the words.
"Just..." Shining continued. He seemed to be trying to find the right words. "...the fact that you're upset about it, that means you understand it's not something to be taken lightly. That's a good thing, alright?"
For some guy who apparently didn't know what to make of him, Shining Armor sure seemed to have a pretty good idea of what was going on in Oliver's head space. It was Oliver's turn to not know what to make of Shining Armor now, what with the criticizing him one moment and consoling him the next.
"As for the matter of your law enforcement..." Shining began to say. "I don't think it would be a good idea for us to stick around. You see, we don't really have-"
Oliver heard the words catch in Shining's throat, and looked up in curiosity at what could've made him cut off so abruptly. From the burning wreckage of the 7-11, a burned and bloody Rodney limped towards them.
"No way..." Oliver murmured, and beside him Shining stood back up. He saw a blue glow emanating from the man's hands, similar to the color of the barrier he'd made.
"Looks like you've lost, thug," Shining spat. "With your friend dead, you've got no way to actually harm us. It's over. You tell us everything you know about Discord's plans, and I'll let you walk away."
Rodney stopped his limping gait, staring at Shining for a moment before letting out a raspy cackle.
"Heh heh heh! You... you're a fuckin' idiot, you know? Focuses... they're nice and all, but at the end of the day there's still one great equalizer."
Oliver shot to his feet, eyes wide as Rodney pulled out a Beretta 92 and pointed it straight at Shining.
"I'll put you underground, asshole. All of you assholes. Let's see that stained-glass of yours hold up to my hand cannon, huh? Heh heh heh!"
Oliver took a step back out of reflex, and Spike cowered behind Shining. Why hadn't Rodney used that earlier? Could the guy really have been that arrogant? Either way, it didn't matter now, but Oliver couldn't just up and run. Rodney would put a bullet in his back the moment he made any sudden moves. He'd gotten lucky in the store, but he had no plan for this.
Rodney cackled louder, and Shining raised his glowing hands in preparation to make a barrier. The glow surged for a moment, and after a few seconds... nothing had happened. Shining's face took on a panicked look, and Oliver cursed inwardly.
"What is it?" he asked through grit teeth. "Do your fucking shield thing already!"
"I..." Shining started, panting heavily. "...I'm... too exhausted. No energy."
"Ahahahahahaha!" Rodney howled. "Perfect! Let's not waste any more time then!"
Oliver could see the muscles in Rodney's hand tighten, and the muzzle of his gun flashed as he fired straight at Shining Armor. Oliver shut his eyes, not wanting to see the result...
"Hey... hey, what the... what gives!"
Oliver's eyes opened, and he looked next to him to see a perfectly intact Shining Armor. Scanning the surroundings, his eyes settled on a divot in the concrete where the bullet seemed to have embedded in the ground. What on Earth could've caused that?
"I'm so very sorry, my little ponies."
Oliver whirled around, catching sight of a woman walking up behind them all. If Applejack had been tall, this woman was practically amazonian. Her hair billowed out behind her in a cascade of greens, pinks, and blues as she walked past Shining Armor to face Rodney.
"To have let you all be so endangered," she began. "The blame falls entirely on me. I will resolve the situation."
Rodney, shaking and seeming to panic, fired his gun again, and this time Oliver watched as the bullet slammed harmlessly into the pavement in front of the woman. She began advancing towards Rodney, who backpedaled in terror.
"N-no! No, you get back!" Rodney yelled. "The boss told me about you! I don't want anything to do with you!"
"You should have considered that before you allied with Discord," the woman said, her voice now stern and commanding, like a disappointed parent. "You should have considered that before you harmed my subjects."
The Beretta suddenly slipped from Rodney's hand, plummeting to the ground and smashing against the concrete with enough force to leave a crater. Rodney yelped, turning and trying to hobble away, but he too collapsed to the ground. Trying in vain to stand and flee, he seemed totally pinned to the ground by some invisible force.
The woman loomed over him, and as he looked up at her Rodney gave one final yelp before his eyes rolled back in his head. He'd passed out cold.
"Oh!" the woman said, the dour tone in her voice completely gone as she turned to face the others. "My, that is certainly convenient. To simply fall unconscious, it's mush less gruesome then what I had been planning to do. What a relief."
Oliver, still stunned, watched as Shining Armor straightened and gave a tired salute.
"You have my humble thanks, Princess Celestia."
Author's Note
Not much to say here. Hope you enjoy this for as long as I keep updating it.
Before anyone else brings it up, the abilities humans use in this story are called "Focuses". I'm taking a page from JJBA (a popular manga/anime if you aren't familiar) and using song names as names for the various Focuses used by heroes and villains throughout the story, both because it's a fun naming scheme and I'm crummy at coming up with names for stuff myself. The story is not connected to JJBA in any way, so no worries there, I just like the idea. Apologies if it's "cringey" or otherwise a deal-breaker for anyone.
The hours immediately following the debacle in the now-burning 7-11 went by in a blur. The five odd people (and there had been five; Oliver had initially missed the meek pink-haired woman who had arrived with the so-called "princess") had all snuck off somewhere while his back had been turned, even managing to haul the wounded Applejack along with them. The police and fire department both arrived on the scene shortly after, and Oliver had fed them a very modified version of events. Of course, the officers readily believed his story about Rodney and Daryl showing up, demanding the money from the register with their gun, trashing the place, and accidentally starting the fire in the process. It sounded for all the world like how a pair of armed delinquent thugs would act.
Oliver counted his lucky stars that the detective they'd sent to the scene hadn't been his sister. He'd never been able to slip a lie past her.
His boss, the owner of this and a few other 7-11s in the area, showed up at around the same time as the ambulance did. As the paramedics loaded up Rodney's burned and unconscious body to be carted to the hospital, Oliver gave his boss the same story as he had the police. The meeting went a lot smoother than Oliver had expected, with his boss apologizing profusely for Oliver's injuries and offering him a week of paid-vacation to get over the shock of the event. He even assured Oliver that he'd be able to work at another 7-11 he owned across town for the foreseeable future, which eased Oliver's fears about being unemployed.
At the end of it all, the medics took a quick look at Oliver's hand (which he had thankfully already plucked the needles out of), which hadn't been nearly as bad as Oliver's panicked mind had thought it was. With some quick antiseptic and bandaging, he was free to go home. The police, ambulance, fire department, and his boss had all just finished leaving when Oliver trudged towards his own car.
He sighed, the weight of the whole situation still bearing down on him. The fact that he'd basically killed two... well, one guy was still heavy in his mind. Rodney had been a real scumbag, of that Oliver had no doubt, but it almost seemed like Daryl was just kind of... doing what he was told. He shook his head, trying to remind himself what Shining Armor had said.
"Ah, so this one is yours then. Good, I was right after all."
What? No, that hadn't been what he'd said, and yet Oliver heard it in the guy's voice, clear as day. He blinked twice, taking a moment to realize the voice hadn't been in his thoughts as he whirled around to see Shining emerging from a bush next to his parked car.
"You... you're still here?" Oliver asked, stepping back. "The hell are you doing in that bush, man?"
"Waiting for all those officials to leave," Shining offered, speaking as though it had been obvious. "I told you before, we can't really get caught up with them. It would cause problems."
Oliver opened his mouth to reply, but the words died in his throat as the rest of Shining's odd posse emerged from the nearby foliage. The pink-haired girl, the kid Spike, the gargantuan 6'4 woman Shining had called "Princess Celestia", and even Applejack. The needles seemed to have been removed from her body, and though she moved somewhat slowly she seemed surprisingly on the mend.
"Apologies that we had to wait so long, your highness," Shining said, turning and kneeling before the princess. "I did't think they'd linger for so long."
"Peace, Shining Armor," Celestia reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "They were simply doing their duty. It was no trouble."
She turned to face Oliver as Shining stood back up. "You have done us a great service, protecting my little ponies..."
Her what.
"...but I am afraid I must ask your help again. We must regroup somewhere safe where we can discuss our next move. Our enemies are moving against us faster than I anticipated. Do you know of somewhere we could go to rest, in relative safety?"
Oliver worked his jaw, trying to figure out what to say but failing utterly to find words. These bizarre people wanted more of his help? He'd already saved like, three of them, despite Shining's apparent hangups on the matter. He should just say no and get on with his life. He wanted to say no. These people were dangerous, and whatever they were mixed up in had nearly gotten him killed.
And yet, more than anything else: more than his fear, his nervousness, his survival instincts, and his common fucking sense, he was just so damn curious.
"...My apartment," he said, sighing as if in defeat. "You can go there, for a little while at least. It's small, but I live alone. No one else will be there to bother you."
He pulled out his keys and clicked the button, unlocking the old Tahoe with a beep beep and opening the driver's side door. He was lucky the old beater had enough seating space for this motley crew.
"Pile in."
He sat down in the driver's seat, putting the key into the ignition and starting the engine. The old SUV roared to life, and he relaxed into the seat a bit as his exhaustion began to set in.
The five of them seemed to hesitate, as if wary of the vehicle. Oliver rolled his eyes and lowered his window.
"Listen, I know it's old, but I had it serviced like, last week," he said, his voice carrying an undertone of annoyance. "Just come on already."
Slowly, they all made their way into the vehicle. Celestia deigned to sit in the passenger seat, while the others piled haphazardly into the second and third rows of seating. They all sat expectantly, looking at Oliver. He stared right back.
"...Seatbelts, people," he said, exasperated. Looks of confusion spread among them, but ironically it was the kid who figured it out first. He located his seatbelt and brought it over his lap, locking it into place with a click. Following his example, the others did the same.
He backed out of the parking space, then shifted into drive and headed for the road. Focusing on his driving, he didn't catch the bewildered looks of his passengers as the car moved about.
"Ah, Oliver, was it?" Celestia eventually asked once they were underway, breaking the silence. "You have my gratitude for your continued assistance to us. Opening your home to strangers is no small matter. I cannot thank you enough."
Oliver merely grunted in response. Eventually, he said, "hmm, yeah, s'fine I guess. Silver lining to all this, my boss gave me a week of paid vacation, so I guess in a roundabout way y'all did me a favor. Whoopie."
"I suppose that is nice."
The rest of the ride passed in a strained, awkward silence. Thankfully it wasn't too terribly long, as Fairweather was a small town and Oliver's apartment complex was just around the corner. Pulling in to park, Oliver motioned for everyone to get out before cutting the engine and leading them all up the stairs to his place.
Opening the door to his meager studio apartment gave Oliver a sense of security. He sighed again, something he realized he'd been doing a lot of, and flicked the lights on to reveal the interior. One corner of the room was occupied by his bed, which he unceremoniously flopped down onto with a groan. A small TV sat on a table against the wall, facing an old couch and coffee table. The kitchen portion of the studio featured a round table with four chairs, which combined with the couch and Oliver's place on the bed provided more than enough seating for everyone inside. It didn't stop the room from feeling cramped, though.
"Lock the door behind you," Oliver called, slightly muffled with his face pressed against his pillow. He couldn't see who did so, but he heard the distinct click. After a moment he lifted his head to see the five of them awkwardly milling about the small space.
"Well?" he asked. "Sit down somewhere. Get comfy I guess."
He himself got up from the bed as the rest of them took seats around the room. He headed for the kitchen, grabbing his percolator and a tub of ground coffee from a cabinet and setting it on the counter top. He had a feeling that he was going to need to stay up for a while yet.
"Anyone want coffee?" he asked the others, filling the percolator with water and dumping some ground coffee into the cup. He put the lid on the contraption and plugged the whole thing in. "It should be ready in a couple minutes."
"Oh, yes," Celestia said, seeming surprised by the offer. "I would love some. Thank you."
"Reckon I'll have a cup," Applejack added.
No one else spoke up. Going by Spike's expression he seemed to be mulling it over, but Oliver wasn't going to wait around for his answer. He grabbed three mugs from another cabinet and set them on the counter.
A few moments passed. The only sound in the room was the ticking of Oliver's clock, which read 2:13 AM, and the bubbling of the percolator. Oliver took the moment to scan the others' faces. The pink-haired one whose name he still didn't know was huddled on the couch, avoiding his gaze. Applejack, taking up the other side of the couch, actually seemed rather calm, but was scrutinizing him in a way not unlike how Shining had earlier. Shining himself was shifting his gaze constantly between Oliver and the Princess, and still seemed exhausted from the fight. Spike had taken notice of the bowl of cheap peppermint candies in the middle of the table and had already eaten a handful of them, if the pile of wrappers he was accumulating was any indication.
And the princess... or so-called princess, was staring at him with a passive, slightly pleasant expression. It was a very neutral look, that revealed absolutely nothing about what she was thinking. Oliver hated it.
The coffee finished right as Shining stifled a loud yawn. The sudden noise caused everyone in the room to look at him. He looked around, a sheepish expression crossing his face.
"I guess I'll have a cup too."
Celestia watched with amusement as Oliver, clearly annoyed, sighed and retrieved an extra mug from his cabinet and started pouring out cups of coffee. He was such an odd person, by her limited impression of him. Clearly she and her subjects caused him no small amount of exasperation, yet he had helped them against Discord's servants and was now entertaining them in his home. It didn't necessarily seem like he was doing any of this out of the kindness of his heart either. It had been so long since she'd last dealt with humans, she couldn't remember if they were all this strange. How curious...
She observed passively as he poured four cups of coffee, then set the coffee pot down and retrieved a bottle of what she imagined was creamer from the large, white machine next to his stove. Some kind of icebox, she imagined.
"Anyone take their coffee black?" he asked. No one replied, so he went about adding the cream to the coffee and stirring each.
"Oh, if you don't mind, I'd like some sugar in mine," Celestia said. Next to her, Shining mentioned he did as well.
"The creamer's full of sugar," Oliver said, giving them a sidelong glance. "Trust me."
He carried three of the cups, setting two down at the table for Shining and Celestia, and taking the third to Applejack, who nodded and thanked him. Heading back into the kitchen and retrieving his own cup, he took a sip before digging around in the icebox for something else.
Celestia took a sip of her cup, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was very sweet. She hummed with satisfaction, while next to her she caught sight of Shining grimacing and heard a cough from Applejack.
"Hoo-ey," Applejack muttered, her face scrunching up a bit. "That's... really sweet."
Shining just grunted, and Celestia recalled that he liked his coffee extremely weak. She stifled a chuckle as Oliver spoke up again.
"I'm gonna make some hash. I'll make a lot, so y'all have some if you want."
"That's generous of you," Celestia said. "In the meantime, we should probably discuss what to do next, if you don't mind."
"Yeah, go ahead."
As Oliver got to work retrieving potatoes, onions, peppers, and eggs from his icebox and pantry, Celestia turned so that she was facing her subjects.
"So, we must decide our course of action, going forward."
"Discord knows where we are," Shining said, gingerly sipping his coffee. "It isn't surprising, considering he sent us here, but I didn't expect him to have recruited humans into his service so quickly."
"And tough fellers at that," Applejack grumbled. "And heck, not to second guess you or nothin' Princess, but I thought you said humans couldn't do magic anymore?"
In the background, there was a loud clatter and a muffled exclamation of "Fuck!" as Oliver dropped something. Celestia suppressed the urge to chuckle again.
"Indeed, this realm's denizens have long forgotten their old ways," she began. "Human spellcasters are strange. They can only ever learn one magical ability, which they call a 'focus', but each one is unique and inherent to them, as opposed to unicorn magic which is comprised of spells that must be taught and learned. A human's focus can potentially be extremely versatile though - especially if the user has practiced a great deal - to make up for it being the only thing they can use. Even if humans have forgotten the ways of magic, the potential for developing a focus would still reside in all of them."
"A-a-and," Fluttershy, huddled on the couch, managed to speak up, "you think... y-you think Discord is... using that potential?"
Celestia nodded. "Indeed. He's certainly powerful enough. It would be child's play for him to reach within someone and trigger the activation of their latent focus. Normally a human would unlock their focus through training under a tutor, or by prolonged and repeated exposure to other mages, but Discord could absolutely trigger the process artificially."
"So Discord's fiddlin' with humans to bring back their magic?" Applejack asked, essentially summing up the situation. "That's more'n just a problem for us. Human folks probably won't know what's goin' on if they've never heard of magic, and folks start croppin' up usin' it willy nilly."
"We've heard of magic," Oliver said, interjecting from the other side of the kitchen. "But it's confined to fiction for us. Fantasy stories and games and whatnot. Nobody thinks it's real. Hell, I sure didn't, but it's hard to think of a rational explanation for what happened back at the store."
Celestia caught sight of Shining and Applejack frowning as Oliver interjected. It was likely they didn't think he had a place in this conversation. Before either of them could say anything, Celestia continued.
"It's likely a shock for you, to have your understanding of the world twisted in such a way."
"I'll deal with it," he replied bluntly. "You guys want eggs with your hash?"
Celestia shared a look with the others. It was somewhat uncommon for ponies to eat eggs outside of using them in baking, but it wasn't particularly strange or anything. Celestia considered it lucky that Oliver hadn't tried to feed them some kind of meat. She knew he didn't know any better, but it may have caused an uproar among her subjects.
"I would, yes," she said. "Over easy, please."
"Sure!" Spike piped up. He'd been oddly quiet for the whole discussion so far, Celestia noted. "However you wanna cook them."
"Scrambled," Applejack said curtly.
"I'm... hmm, well, I probably need the protein," Shining muttered. "Sure then. Over medium."
They all looked at Fluttershy, save for Oliver who was starting to prepare the eggs, and she jumped a bit in surprise.
"O-o-oh! Oh, no, I'm... no thank you."
Oliver hummed passively and went back to cooking.
They discussed the implications of Discord bringing magic back to the human world a bit more, and the problems it might cause for their mission and for human society as a whole. Eventually, Oliver brought over a number of bowls filled with hash and topped with eggs, per everyone's requests. Celestia truly hadn't expected him to cook for them, considering how much they seemed to bother him. Perhaps he was simply dedicated to being a good host.
The food wasn't anything like what her chefs in Canterlot Palace would have served, but it smelled very good. It appeared to be a simple hash of potatoes, onions, and bell peppers, with salt and pepper and...
"I think that's... rosemary?" Celestia asked, lifting her fork and taking a bite. "Hmm! Oh, it is!"
"Hmm," Oliver hummed, nodding as he stood in the kitchen to eat his portion, despite the table having an empty seat. "Rosemary's good with potatoes."
"I agree," Celestia said, cutting up her egg a bit and letting the yolk run over the food before taking another bite. "It's quite good. Thank you, Oliver."
"It's pretty simple," he replied, deflecting the compliment. "I'm no great chef, but I like to cook what I can. It's... fun."
Celestia nodded, turning her attention back to the meal. She noticed the others handling the silverware with uncertainty, except for Spike who took to it rather quickly. A small giggle escaped her. Her subjects could be so funny sometimes.
After everyone had eaten and Oliver had cleaned up the dishes, the five went back to discussing their plans for battling this mysterious "Discord" character. Not sure how to contribute to this conversation he didn't particularly feel welcome in, he instead headed over to the small desk next to his bed, on which sat his laptop. He noticed the pink-haired girl whose name he still did not know cower a bit as he walked by. If that was how she was going to react to his presence, he figured it would be a bad time to ask her name now.
He sat down in the old rolling chair and opened the lid of the computer, the screen flickering to life before him. Once everything had booted up, he opened Chrome and checked his messenger.
[4 Messages from Penelope Rhine]
He sighed. Of course she'd been messaging him. He'd dared to assume she would still be asleep at this hour, but he should've known she'd be up going through case files or whatever it was she did. He opened the chat with her to reply.
Penelope: I heard about the gas station. Are you okay?
Penelope: What happened?
Penelope: Oliver, are you alright?
Penelope: Please.
A pang of guilt went through him. He should've checked sooner.
Oliver: I'm fine, Penny.
Penelope: Jesus, Oliver. What took so long? I was sick worrying.
Oliver: I left my phone behind in the building. It was on the counter and I forgot it. It's gone now.
Penelope: Oh, I see. Sorry.
Oliver: It's fine. I need someone to worry about me.
Penelope: You certainly don't worry about you.
He could tell this conversation was about to go in an annoying direction, so he sent a quick "Night sis" to finish things off and closed messenger.
He went to open up another page when a voice from behind startled him.
"Oh, and what is this?"
Oliver jumped in his seat, turning around to see Celestia leaning over and peering at the screen.
"It's my computer," he said, annoyed. "You know, a computer?"
"I see," she said, in a tone that definitely did not sound like she knew what that was. "They didn't have these last time I was here."
"What, computers?"
"Indeed."
He stared at her for a few moments, incredulous. She caught his gaze and offered a small chuckle. Oliver couldn't imagine at all what she was thinking. It was infuriating.
"Applejack mentioned that you showed her a map of the area on your... phone, was it? Is this device similar to that?"
"...Yeah," he said, turning back to the computer. "Here, I'll bring up maps and show you."
He brought up google maps and typed in the address of his apartment as the starting location, and "Key West, FL" as the ending location. The page displayed the best route available, indicating that the journey was roughly 350 miles and would take about 5-and-a-half hours, just like before.
"Remarkable," Celestia breathed, captivated. "You've come so far in such little time."
"Yeah... I guess you could say that."
"And... oh!" she continued. "As I thought, we're in Florida! I remember hearing about Florida before. The beaches are supposed to be nice, yes?"
"They're alright," Oliver said, shrugging. "It's no tropical paradise, but they're okay. Fairweather is kind of inland, but nowhere in Florida is really inland. Beach is always close by."
"Hmm, it's a shame we have no time to stop and enjoy them," Celestia said, and Oliver could have sworn he heard the barest hint of a pout in her voice. "No matter, there is more to discuss Oliver."
Celestia walked back to her seat at the table, and Oliver swiveled his seat around to face her and the others. The gears in his head were whirring.
"So... why do you need to go to Key West?" he dared to ask.
They all looked at him, and he saw Shining Armor's brow furrow. Oliver still couldn't get a read on how that guy felt about him. Applejack however was much more blatant, giving him a glare that sent a clear message of distrust. Oliver wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve such feelings. He was almost hurt. Almost.
"Discord is there," Shining said. "He brought us here, and he's the only one who can take us back home. We need to get to him, defeat him, and return to where we belong."
"O-kay," Oliver said slowly, nodding. "And how do you know this, exactly?"
"That's all thanks to me," Spike said, standing up and looking quite pleased with himself.
"I... don't follow."
Celestia began an explanation. "When we came to this world and became humans..."
When they what?
"...we gained the potential to develop focuses of our own, as humans do. Those of us who were already predisposed to magic in our original forms unlocked our focuses immediately, while those who were not still have yet to do so. Spike has a focus called Oracle."
Spike grinned and began a demonstration, raising his hands as wisps of green fire began to swirl around them. Oliver instinctively leaned back in his seat.
Spike grumbled a bit as the flames began to take shape. "Still not used to it coming from my hands..."
The flames licked at the air, coming dangerously close to lighting Spike's chair on fire, but it seemed as though while Spike held the fire in place it was relatively controlled and safe. An image began to form, as the flames morphed and twisted into a discernible shape.
It was a postcard. "Greetings from Key West, Florida," it read in bold lettering. It was a somewhat famous design. Oliver recalled seeing the postcard's likeness as a mural on some coffee shop, the last time he'd taken a trip down to Key West with his college pals. He frowned in distaste at the memory.
"Key West, Florida," Spike said, reading the text on the produced image. He narrowed his eyes, reading the smaller text underneath. "Southernmost Point in the US. Huh, what's the-"
"It's the country we're in," Oliver, anticipating the question, cut him off. "The United States of America. Florida, where we are now, is one of the states."
He saw Celestia nod and wasn't particularly surprised. She seemed to know a lot more about her surroundings than her companions, even if her knowledge seemed a bit... dated. Oliver idly wondered if they were time travelers or something.
"Indeed," Celestia said. "This is what comes up when Spike seeks information on Discord's location. Honestly, it is a relief that he even followed us here at all, but I suppose he'd never miss a chance to watch our misadventures in an unfamiliar world. With him here though, it means we have a chance to corner him and force him to take us home, but we need to get to him."
"Makes sense," Oliver said, shrugging. "What's your plan for getting there then?"
He barely caught the odd look Celestia gave him for a moment, and he inwardly praised himself for noticing. It was the first slip he'd seen her make.
"Well, I suppose that, lacking any superior options," she began, looking worriedly between her compatriots before turning back to Oliver, "we will begin our trek on foot in the morning. I do apologize Oliver, but I hope you will allow us to rest here for the night."
There. He'd caught it. Just barely, but he'd caught it. She was trying to manipulate him.
"...Yeah," he said after a moment, shrugging again. "You're already here, and it's not like I need to get any rest for work tomorrow since I got that vacation, so sure thing. Make yourselves at home."
Celestia's momentary look of surprise passed in an instant, but now that he knew what to look for he saw it.
"I'm probably not going to sleep any time soon," he continued, "so one or two of you can take the bed. The rest of you can take the couch or wherever. I'll get some spare blankets."
"Thank you," Celestia said with a nod, her lapse in composure gone entirely. "You've gone above and beyond for us, Oliver. I won't forget your help."
She was laying it on thick. Oliver just shrugged, standing up and heading to the small closet across from the bed. In his peripherals, he caught sight of Celestia observing him with a neutral expression. Nice try.
He slid open the closet door with a loud creak, and opened a drawer that held the spare blankets. He grabbed them, pulling them out one at a time and setting them on the floor next to the couch. He turned back to close the now-empty drawer...
...or would have, if he hadn't noticed the items left inside: his father's old service pistol, next to a couple boxes of ammunition. He'd forgotten that he'd hid it there. Hastily, he shut the drawer and closed the closet.
"Uh, if you need me, I'll be right here," he said awkwardly, sitting back down at his small desk and going back to his computer. He felt Celestia's eyes bore into his back, but did his best to ignore them.
Eventually, one by one, his five guests all picked a spot fell asleep.
Author's Note
Spike's focus, Oracle, is based on how his fire breath is used to send messages in the show. As his focus, it can be used both to attack and to divine information. The information might be cryptic of plain, and vague or specific. It might be of no help at all, or be exactly what Spike needs at the moment. It usually depends on how well Spike knows the subject he's inquiring about.
I mentioned in the story's description that Discord sprung his plan at the unveiling ceremony of the stained glass window depicting his "defeat" by the Mane 6. Shining Armor hadn't been there in the show, since he wasn't introduced until the Canterlot Wedding stuff, but I figured it wasn't much of a stretch to have him show up. If we ever do a flashback to the actual moment of Discord putting his plan into action, you'll see the specifics.
