Author's Note

Ah, you've made to chapter eleven of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature fanfic no less on the grounds that a previous chapter has dealt with heavy subject matters proven to be unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated; suffice to say, this was by far a strong note for many readers complete and therefore you were all given an option to skip ahead to this chapter: whether or not you had taken this offer, it was only up to you to do so nothing more.

In any case, I'm gonna confess that this is the part where it crosses over with a certain character's universe: considering the theme of this story in question, I'd figured what better way to complete this than a certain scientist himself; for your consideration, watch his show and enjoy it if you can.

Anyways, besides My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic and its setting and characters belonging to Lauren Faust and Hasbro as stated before, Rick and Morty belong to Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon; in addition, the following fan characters, Berry Munch and Dulce Deleche, belong to Art–Anon.

Science

If there was one thing that proved to be noticeable, then it’d be the thick light taking no time whatsoever to envelope anything and anyone around itself; after all, there were many thing that had already taken advantage of the situation at hand. For starters, there were rather a vast yet finite amount of clouds traveling about in every shape and size possible, each of them with their own silver lining but currently scattered enough to not block out the golden sun still within the big blue sky. Within an enormous dream drop distance was a civilization defined in various materials, most of them already fit for the likes of livestock despite lacking in sustainable agriculture all the same, not that it was of any concern currently so to speak. The calmed gentle breeze which had been surfing directly across the brightened blades of glass, surrounding it on a solid lower plane of existence along with the concrete pathways that are now intersecting one another in more ways than just one. In the very background, there had rested an abundance of skyscrapers standing outside within the cold distance, each already adorned with static electricity concentrated firmly on illuminating the quadrangular shapes in spite of the photons outside.

Of the many households within the neighborhood that were almost identical to each other, only one of them in particular had stood out and about. Its appearance had done well to blend in with the majority of area, timber framing being some chocolatey roofing matching the door underneath. Already covered up into a colorful coating of a clear vanilla cream, it had already created a cool, calm, and calculative centerpiece seen and heard. Many of the wholesome square windows around it were either closed or obscured by the blinds, one of which was blocked off by a big shrubbery. Only the red bricks had added the finishing touch to this picturesque residence, some of which was now outlining the straight and narrowed path. Aside from the garage door that was in a darker shade, a backboard was hung inches away from the angling of the roof where a satellite dish stood.

There was a room out amongst others inside of the home in question with its own dimensions, sights, sounds, and minds, already unlocked for the a select few to bear witness to altogether. The very background in its entirety, although grey like smoke and ash, was adorned with an utter lack of organization with an abundance of papers with a fraction of those attached by strings. Resting adjacent to the brown door was a brilliant green carpeting directly above the beige floor, surrounded by a collection of various items all left abandoned without even touching the fabric. Only a small predominately brown dresser was found to be carrying a tubular machine made of metal sitting at the corner next to a matching shelf with plenty of rolled up contents within them. There was no sign of a window to the outside world but a small electronic on a different angle of the same wall was active with its own dials and antenna affixed enough to show moving images. Another shelf was found upon the opposite notch, taller than the first as it was carrying a similar yet different device bearing only alphanumeric text while standing next to a sink dry as a desert. A thin flat bed was resting next to the papers with a big green blanket adorning it all with a snow white pillow; little else could be said about except for the additional contents found underneath. Even though there was time and space to move around within the small volume of freely flowing air, there were plenty of boxes already filled with miscellaneous objects hidden in plain sight.

Sitting upon the surface area of the comforter was a tall elderly man with a tanned yet ashy complexion staring at the lit screen with a glazed look all the same as far as he was concerned presently. His eyes were filled to the brim with the world of midnight, underlined with curvatures underneath themselves as they were matching his lightened shirt and lighter hair, complete with unibrow. In addition, the lanky man had worn an off–white coat opened enough to show off but a pair of dark chocolatey khakis supported by his lightweight frame and even darker belt with the gilded buckling. There was nothing more than a pair of jet–black shoes on his feet keeping himself grounded to the foundation underneath themselves as he’d remained firmly focused onto the active item in question.

“So, this is it… rockin’ the suburbs around the block one more time… rockin’ the suburb ‘cause I can’t tell which house is mine… rockin’ the suburbs we part the shades and face the facts: they’ve got better–lookin’ fescue right across the cul–de–sac…” the lanky man sang whilst burping in between intervals all the same no less.

It was at this moment he was staring at a balding dark skinned woman dressed in a plum pantsuit with eyes of blue with a paper stack sitting against a landscape of broken towers saying clearly, “it’s been several months since the atomic exchange between multiple governments and extremist factions; this comes weeks after a sudden geographical change destabilized the world. Although brief for a moment, the death toll is currently believed to be resting at over six hundred million with many bodies having yet to be found: the places hit the hardest are America, Russia, China, Hungary, East Timor, Yemen, Poland, England, and Spain; most of these fatalities are identified as human beings with notable trace amounts of other lifeforms from unknown origins. No one knows for sure what had caused it but a select few believe this conflict started weeks after humanity had made contact with other creatures, both humanoid and otherwise so to speak: so far, they include merfolk, undines, harpies, sirens, sprites, elves, pixies, dwarfs, gnomes, ogres, cyclops, trolls, goblins, giants, vampires, kobolds, lizardfolk, minotaurs, and so on. Frankly speaking, peace talks started out in the United Nations Plaza in San Francisco, California following their appearance in Echo Creek, a community about under four hundred miles away; petitioned by Star Butterfly, the event in question was to discuss the sudden changes in topographical dynamics and the subsequent discovery of new life within the planet Earth itself. Unfortunately, this came during tensions rising not only throughout the entire world but also within the Bay Area as well: extremists groups including the Aryan Brotherhood have made their attacks in and out of prison more frequent than before; on a similar note, fractured Hispanic street gangs have found themselves at the mercy of monsters following the initial contact alone. Despite the hostilities, order was maintained for at least two hours before eyewitnesses reported a white flash far from the bridge: before long, shockwaves were sent throughout the entirety of the city in spite of the epicenter thankfully in the Pacific Ocean; additionally, the winds carrying away the lingering fallout have spreaded it all over throughout the west coast northest of the city. Even though no one has claimed responsibility for this nuclear attack at San Francisco, rumors have circulated about all the same: one particular forum on the net claims it was the work of computer hackers whom have stumbled upon the codes since that very day; of course, there’s currently no consensus as to whether or not it’s true, considering the very gravity of the situation. Still, the surviving community, as with many others to various degrees of destruction, are expected to be under martial law: curfews are still in effect between the hours of 9:00 PM and 5:00 AM due to concerns of looting and rioting within the city streets; any homeless found must take refuge in the designated safe zones throughout the nighttime under penalty of detainment. Until further notice, we the people of KPPR TV and Radio will keep our viewers and listeners posted on any new developments; after all, it is our newly reignited responsibility to keep the public informed in these trying times, no matter how hard they’re now: irregardless of the times, may the hearts and souls of the living and deceased alike find peace with the Lord Almighty.”

“It’s a nice thought to dwell on but no, they’re not at peace for the most part as far as I can tell; I rather hate to be the girl as well…” the lanky man said solemnly as his hand now rested on one of the knobs, turning it until a click was heard cutting the screen black, “let’s see what goes on in the household now; it’s probably a matter of time until my grandson comes home…”

Afterwards, he’d arisen from his stationary bed and started to walk out the door, confronted with a sea of pink from top to bottom instantaneously. Of course, the only exception to all this was the ligneous flooring lain out in a pattern with all the elaborate randomness within every single plank. In any case, the lanky man was aware of all the accessories currently adorning the environment, thanks to the lighting upon the ceiling so to speak.

For what it was worth, it didn’t take much for himself to face another door, albeit already closed yet there were two slender rectangles made of glass having been embedded in the wood surface; at the same time, he heard a brief knock on the flat textures followed by another feminine voice, “hello, is there anyone inside…?”

“Shit, he must be running late: I wonder what could’ve happened this time; he’s way too old to be having these problems today…” the lanky man cerebrated about as he’d quickly approached the egress almost immediately, his face slightly changing about no less, “oh, it’s you guys, good evening…”

The reason regarding his straightlaced demeanor was nothing short of plain and simple to a fault: on the other side of the door were two women both alike in fair dignity standing up straightaway. Both of these bystanders had their very commonalities pronounced by their dark attire and many curvatures up on display as warm eyes matching their hair already staring back at the lanky man. Now, it would’ve more than enough to safely say that the lanky man was already put at ease with the women’s presence alone but even that wasn’t enough for him to drop his guard nevertheless.

In any case, there were some significant differences between themselves that he was still able to pick up on, separating one onlooker from another no less. For starters, one of the women was just as dark skinned as the newswoman whereas the other was on a spectrum between the former and the lanky man. Secondment, one of the bystanders was short and stout as a teapot with a small vivid cherry afro whilst the other was a towering yet middleweight ginger. Third, the dark skinned redhead was dressed modestly in midnight with white accents while the bright counterpart wore a blouse and shoes matching hair. Fourthly, though the slimmer ginger showed more skin than her stout correspondent, the former was still covered thanks to brown shorts and black socks. As far as he was concerned, the dark skinned redhead carried a pie with both hands whereas her brighter counterpart had held a big bag within one hand.

“We’re here to see our friend, Tag–A–Long; is she around…?” the slimmer ginger had asked the lanky man in an instant without any hesitation.

It didn’t take much for him to reply in kind all the same, “yes, but you’re not going to be seeing any action from her today: she’s asleep and so is baby Do–Re–Mi thankfully; apparently, my grandson is still having trouble coming home on schedule…”

“I see then; can we please come inside though, mister…?” the stout woman in blue then asked as she took a whiff of the aroma originating from the foodstuff within her grasp, “we’ve actually went to the trouble of visiting her and I hate to have this pie we’ve made together for our friend here go to waste…”

“Alright then, just give me a sec…” he answered.

Sure enough, the lanky man had opened the door between themselves, granting the two outsiders entry as they’d both walked inside of the house.

Upon leaving the outside world, the dark skinned redhead was quick to comment on the interiors, “so this is where Tag–A–Long lives now: I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to move to Seaddle after the war ended; after all, we’d felt like that Ponyville was far too much…”

“You ladies have it easy compared to me: this place is just the same as my daughter’s home; we had to do some work ‘round here…” he replied while shutting the door back up abaft themselves as gently as possible so their ears would be still at ease like before, “of course, the only things I can see in common between them both are how peaceful the neighborhoods are, even at night.”

“Yeah, peace is wonderful; I wish all of our friends were alive to see it though: they would’ve loved it all…” the bright woman sighed somberly.

Either way, the lanky man stopped himself in place and groaned, “I may as well regret this but I already know what had happened years ago: even without all this technology you Equestrians have, I can tell what kind of news travels throughout the grapevine; I don’t understand what he sees in this carbon copy excuse of a world, much less this community here…”

“I glad that she’s able to put it behind herself anyway: we used to be a scout troop of nine girls, all led by Thanks–A–Lot…” the slimmer ginger spoke as she and her stout correspondent still walked throughout the very entryway all the same, “you wouldn’t have the slightest idea as to what became of us between then and now, sir…”

“I don’t even need to have one; when you grow up to be my age, you’ll come to know what it’s like to be in my shoes: all the heartbreak and failure throughout the ages and others going through the motions so they won’t end up shuffling out in a drunken misplaced rage no less…” he’d retorted while following after themselves.

After taking a left turn together, all three of them were accosted by crème walls devoid of flavor and scent alike, yet light like the pink before. Up in front of trio was a table adorned with a yellow square cloth surrounded by six blue chairs as they were all nearby some salmon curtains. Overhead was a conical lamp hanging from the ceiling and above the furniture in question as far as both women seen clearly with their eyes. Edging towards the rightmost side of their viewpoint was a wooden shelf staring back at a lean clock also made of the very same materials. In a smaller frequency compared to the lanky man’s room were a series of pictures adorning the walls, each crafted into whichever strokes.

As the dark skinned redhead started sitting the pie onto the flat surface area of the table, her brighter counterpart said, “so how is she doing anyway…?”

“Well, between taking care of the child and staying out of trouble, she’s been sleeping a lot, practically more than average…” he’d replied as the savory scent was now free to travel within the confined area from its current station almost immediately, “none of us mind it for the most part yet he’s been kind of unnerved by her patterns lately ever since they’ve tied the knot…”

“I’ve been doing more of the same as well ever since I was little; it didn’t help that we’ve had some nightmares throughout the time we’d spent in the war running away from the madness, hiding about within the shadows, and fighting off whoever came after: I still see their faces…” the stout visitor sighed as she’d looked at the windowsill with her left eye becoming moistened.

The lanky man looked away and ruminated, “these girls look far too young to be in the army, let alone serving in one back then or in the now: I really hate to be the guy who caused them all this crap back then, especially with all this she’s doing now if at all; speaking of guys, where the hell is Morty anyway…?”

“Hey, Rick, I have a question: what exactly do you do around here…?” the slimmer ginger asked him after setting down the bag gently upon the floor, catching the latter off–guard, “I’m kind of surprised you’re living in this household with nobody else even at such an age…”

“Oh, me… I build things, mostly to solve problems, sometimes to prevent them from happening, and occasionally whenever I feel like it; as far as I see it, even without the natural aging, I can see how everyone is so used to being predisposed to letting the middlemen do all the work…” the titular tenant talked tepidly to the two women.

Just as the bright visitor was about to take a seat around the table, she could quickly hear her darker correspondent sniffling softly, “Trefoil, Savannah, Samoa, Do–Si–Do, Raisins… I’m so sorry about all of this…”

“Oh, Berry…” the slimmer ginger said as she’d rushed to the stout redhead’s side in no time at all whatsoever, “I miss them too…”

“I’m gonna go head out of the room for a while; I’ll be right back, please don’t touch anything else but the chairs and table…” the lanky man spoke as he’d walked away from the two women already in an embrace, leaving themselves alone to their own devices.

He was shaking his head as both ears were treated to the sounds of footsteps within the house; given the location, it didn’t take much for him to find out whom they’d belonged to: another bright skinned ginger woman. Like the caramel coated visitor, she’d possessed orange hair but its strands were out of place as the fibers were bearing many shades of both light and dark alike; additionally, it was even much shorter by sheer comparison. The brightest tenant was baring even more skin than Rick or the other women in question to the point of being barefoot, but, like the rest, she was modest with a snow–white shirt and emerald splash shorts matching her eyes. Much like the lanky man, there were curvatures underneath the descending ginger’s orbs except there were freckles plastered about over her visage, clinging upon the skin as she’d let out a big yet quiet yawn nearby himself.

The brightest tenant wasted no time greeting him instantaneously despite being tired, “oh, hi, Rick… what’s going on: has Morty returned yet?”

“Not yet, but your friends have dropped by again: Berry and Dulce brought gifts along the way; you should go see them now…” the eponymous elder had answered the barefoot ginger almost immediately, pointing towards the open space he’d departed from, “I’m pretty sure they’d not come all this far to miss you…”

“Aren’t you going to stay and talk…?” the brightest tenant inquired as the lanky man walked past her without any hesitation whatsoever.

He’d wasted no time giving out a reply, “I may have told them I’ll return but not for long anyway; how’s the girl so far, Tag–A–Long…?”

“Oh, Do–Re–Mi… she’s still asleep; I’d fed her some milk earlier before I’d slept too: still works wonders with that bairn…” the aforementioned woman answered in kind as she was staring at the stairwell she’d just climbed down from not long ago, “I knew that being a mum was going to be hard but I’d never imagined it was going to be like this, faraway from Ponyville. It’d seemed like only yesterday when I was just a young girl in the Filly Guides, carefree and whatnot like the rest of the kids; of course, there were others like me who would’ve had the same outlook as myself and not just Berry and Dulce: Trefoil, Savannah, Samoa, Do–Si–Do, and Raisins were like family to all of us, no matter how different we were to each other no less. Funny thing about it all is that I can’t even remember what my parents look like anymore, let alone if I had any to begin with: I’ve already accepted the fact you and Morty aren’t from around here over year ago because I’m not even from Equestria either; they’d sacrificed so much to keep me from going down a broken path I don’t even want to know what they’d even say to me at all. I used to be so happy because of those friends I’ve made in the scout troop, but so did everyone else in and out of the Guides; I don’t think they would’ve like how Ponyville could turn so awful because of the war and the years after it with neighbors: so much has happened in that war I can’t even stomach telling any of this to my daughter on my own deathbed even as an adult. Even looking back on all this, I can’t even go one day without thinking what could’ve happened if things had been a little different: on the one hand, all of us would’ve been living full lives to our upmost, chasing our dreams and making them into our reality at once; still, there’s also the possibility of all of us being worse off than ever, if not outright dead and buried all the same. Princess Celestia knew it for a fact ‘cause we weren’t the only ones who suffered during the war, especially considering the others: the Bearers themselves had it worse, despite their responsibilities and accolades, a third of whom felt what Do–Si–Do been through; the fact that I’d watched and listened what these bastards did to her years ago still haunts me to this very day. Between losing many of our friends and watching our homeland being torn apart was wreaking havoc upon my heart and soul: even with the war coming to a close, I still had nightmares where she’d was crying out for help while she was coughing blood; not only that, all this violence, cruelty, and murdering coming out was making me vulnerable enough to do unthinkable things. There was once a time in which there was the thing called the ‘Green Dolphin Argument’ in where kids around my age and even younger had to do so many things to rid the world of crime: one of which was the last step – go off finding the worst of the worst in today’s society, take the criminal’s life and then commit suicide, something many were having problems with already. For all intents and purposes, it’d probably be wise this shouldn’t end up reaching Morty’s ears altogether for as long as we live; he’s a nice guy and all yet even I know for a fact that he won’t look at me the same way he had years ago should it ever be known: it’s bad enough as it is I’d almost lost everything but I don’t want to lose him because of something I’d done back then…”

“Just relax, as far as I see it, you have nothing to worry about altogether, at least not for now: if there’s anything I can’t stand, then it’s people getting in between my grandson and me overall; messing with the love of his life, however, especially in this time and place crosses the line…” Rick said as he’d watched a tear also escaping from the corner of the barefoot ginger’s eyes.

Despite maintaining control, the brightest tenant wrapped her arms around the lanky man and wept, “thank you, Rick; I wish I had you as a grandfather sooner: at least, you would’ve been there to make this right…”

“Don’t push it, I may be a genius but even I have my limits and restrictions; I can’t be there to solve any and all the problems…” he’d sighed while feeling his clothes becoming soaked up thanks to Tag–A–Long’s melancholy, also returning the hug reluctantly, “just go and face your friends already; I have something I need to do…”

“Okay then…” the barefoot ginger said, breaking away from the embrace and then setting out to where Rick had left off gently.

Needless to say, the lanky man was shaking his head and thought to himself once again, “so this is the life you’d chosen for yourself, eh Morty: running off from our homeworld to settle down in Equestria even though there aren’t any horses to see or ride; of course, who else wouldn’t want to go there after all these years…? I know for a fact these shitcunts on both sides of the political spectrum can’t go one day without trying to fuck each other in the ass and not just the senators: I know for a fact that between all the maniacs and milquetoasts running the show into the ground several decades ago, all they care about letting everyone know who’s in charge and how they must suck it. These bastards wouldn’t last a day in Omaha if history were to repeat itself, especially since they love the resources so fucking much; I know I wouldn’t and I was born far too late to see the war end, what with all the deaths and destruction before and during no less: it’s amazing how these humans have a small talent for war and a smaller talent for peace as well all the very same. Had any of these twat waffles came across what we’d gone through, they may as well turn this land into their own playground, fuck whatever the Crown and Country would say: brothels for days, twenty–four hour diners, strip mines abroad, bloodstained arenas shining, monuments to vanity, leisure suit haberdasheries, and hotels fuller than whatever houses Bob Saget’s running!”

Taking in a deep breath, he’d regained the resolve to climb up the stairs, leaving all of the three women to carry out whatever affairs they have with each other down to earth as it were currently.