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          Oppositionists' Attractive Frequencies           
                      -by Fireflower-                      
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                         Cellulose                         
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Author's Note
My name is Fireflower and welcome to the sixth installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic, a Mature story using canon characters as human beings: as such, I’ve decided to focus on one of the main characters alongside others, half are based on those from other media; nevertheless, while this chapter’s tame, the overall story will deal with heavy subject matters unsuitable for certain readers so be warned.
As always, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro, though not all of them are from there anyway; however, this concept of my fanfic alone belongs to me so I will say this line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.
Lastly, let me also say I hope you enjoy this chapter now and stay tuned for future chapters later on: after all, you're going to be taking solace in the fact the following pattern will serve as a heads–up so to speak; besides, we've a long way to go before you can meet the rest of them.
Cellulose
Light in and of itself was capable of traveling to and from anywhere throughout the whole wide world rather almost instantaneously; in addition, it also was accompanied by warmth as well since it was the only way of how it’d worked out for all the aspects making up the very reality interchangeably. At the very least, its absolute presence alone had served to provide a sense of identity for all the corporeal dimensions; after all, the fact it can be seen by all of its lifeforms in general was good enough to serve as a provider for every single environment hither and yon the entire realm so to be speaking of. Now, it would seem just about anything and everything could be discovered almost immediately, irregardless of whatever importance and/or lack thereof, all thanks to a wholesome slew of colors painting them all in many different hues and shades crying out with life in every single emotion known of so far. Given the very situation at a hand, it was best to assume, for the most part, today was just about to start for many of them up and running about on all parts within their sphere of influence alone, already rotating upon its own axis at one set speed while revolving around another distant star at a different other.
In any case therein, it was about time to set the stage in essence, even though much of the work had been done by virtue of external homeostasis, constants and variables alike working together. The upper atmosphere had been colored in the brightest shades of the starriest sapphires, shining about, thanks to the golden sun completely illuminating it all with but powerful rays of photons. Traveling across the log horizon with these crashing skies were gentle breezes already carrying on various debris and scents composed of both light and heavy materials, known and unknown. An occasional howl carelessly whispered unintelligible dialogue yet it was unheard of overall, unaffecting both the sound barriers and lifeforms unready, unwilling, and/or unable to pick up. The topsoil and a few floras upon themselves had already gotten pushed and pulled alongside by the many shifting pathways, dancing roundabout rather safely at once without so much as a care. To say the loneliness was currently filling the deadened air simply served as an understatement even if a single grain of truth had taken root previously ever since their very conception prior.
The woodwind sounds of whistling had just cut on throughout the cold diurnal oxygen as it was instantaneously followed by the constant percussion of steely parts in a rapid succession. Within the long distance, an enharmonic orchestra had already arrived into the form of a slender yet rustic locomotive locked into a continuously circular motion firmly directed onward. Rapidly yet carefully, the utter synchronicity of melody was currently on a repeat with the very bumping and grinding of metalworking accompanying its now whooshing smoke clouds. Standing directly nearby were another set of tracks empty unlike the similar road already being taken with a series of lights and billboards being littered about infrequently so to speak of. A couple cars which were in the process of being pulled alongside by the little tank engine that could had already lit up brightly, albeit dimmed compared to the arid landscaping itself.
The many coaches coasting throughout in motion had some insides more elaborate yet moist, not to mention the fact there was already life stirring roundabout. The ceilings were in a brownish gold, illuminated by a series of lanterns nearby with furnishings intricately telling one too many stories of past cures into teal. The walls closing in where the windows took refuge were of a brighter color so to speak, bearing the qualities of static electricity which flashed the messages. Underneath it all were an abundance of the brilliant green in a cluster of swirls in every possible shade for all the observers to even acknowledge and the like. Seating was of no consequence for the very inhabitants within the car, although the abundance of density therein had made whatever tranquility so unlikely.
In any case, not every passenger aboard was standing about as one kind of area in particular was fit enough for the tasks of slumbering about freely. Only luxuries found within itself were a windowsill and furniture at a close range, more cleaner than a wolf–whistle and chaster than a catcall too. The fact they were already devoid of crowding individuals served as proof of how neatness was the norm, emphasized by the ligneous formations. All in all, the scenery beyond itself became picaresque due to the shining sunlight shimmering so throughout the looking glass and its blinds as well.
Out of the two bunk beds laying away at a right angle with hinges keeping them suspended from the ground, one of them was already occupied by its tenant: short and thin yet full of life no less. Amongst the attire chosen for the occasion was an orange cap harmonizing with a near knapsack; everything else was in the darkest of fabrics, lighter than black yet still colorful enough anyway. Slathered across the lone inhabitant’s integuments underneath the very clothing was a faint shade of an otherwise vividly grayish brown reminiscent of cork with lines running down and freckles. Even though there were clear and present signs of a ligneous composition similar to the environs, the face was one of the only things separating its owner from there thanks to two grapevine orbs. Several leaves were found upon the passenger’s body, two of which were hovering over the narrowed eyes while the rest hung onto the forehead curving upwardly despite the disconnection.
“Attention all passengers, we’ll now be approaching Ponyville in several minutes time: if this is your stop, then we ask you check your belongings and hope you have a nice day; either way, thank you for choosing Friendship Express, Equestria’s finest in rail transit…” a voice had been announced but it didn’t belong to the singular being due to the lack of a corporeal formation.
Nevertheless, the tenant in question heeded it all even as both dots were focused onto a white sheet with words written wraparound wreathing:
Hello, you…
Even I admit this is lame and I was once the fifth wheel in a party of five but mostly the third in a small crowd of a company: you deserve a better name and yet I can’t even muster up the inner strength to summon up my own creativity to the forefront; besides, someone else maybe reading this now and then as well as one of many possible futures willing to let whatever remain survive. Typical but it can’t be helped anyways, even after everything’s all said and done as well as nothing none could speak or do; in any case, what I’m about to tell you is top secret, a conspiracy bigger than all of us, including my kin, may they rest in peace: there’s a powerful group of people out there that are secretly running the world, and in this case, right in the ground. I’m talking about the guys and gals no one knows about because they’re invisible and indivisible, even with the finest gadgets: societies’ one–hundredth daring to play with forces far beyond control and comprehension, all without knowledge or care; because of this, bad things happen all the times, irregardless of whatever moral fiber that dares to exist in their chosen victims, if any. Nevertheless, this is about last year, the anniversary of my faithful friend, Victor and his family, the only ones whom cared: while everyone else was out there scrambling to repair what’s left of their lives, I had nothing whatsoever to return to; even worse, it’d proved to me how worthless my search for friendship has become when everyone outside the family keeps pushing me away. For a guy who had next to nothing, I sure can’t seem to figure out a way to go an entire week without being somebody’s target: it didn’t even matter if I’d given them what little money on me or stayed out of their path, at least as far as they were all concerned; after all, it wasn’t enough for them to make my life perdition simply because I exist but did they really had to go this far?! To many, I’m but a simple person lost in a crowd caring nothing at all for whether I live and let learn or perish and rot away: nevertheless, I have a name, just like the rest the them, be if their world or others like and unlike them all the same to us here; though, I’m pretty sure you’ve already known after all these times I’d spent trying to remember every goshdarn thing ever since. Of course, what is a victim to do in a world that could care less about right or wrong compared to success at the expenses of others: all they know about is how to find a way to get everything they want for themselves while doing absolutely none of their own work; I only know my feelings on the issues at hand don’t matter to them so long as they’re not suffering greatly at all whatsoever. Either way, I refuse to live in a world that rejects concepts such as morality and sanity, especially when they’ve been subverted; likewise, I refuse to let myself be subverted by fickleness of cowards, hypocrites, and traitors claiming to care for such things: after all, the people I’d tried to be friends with did nothing more than playing in their hands thinking it’d have made them cool.
“Now arriving at Ponyville…” the voice from earlier blared on, “please make sure to be aware of your surroundings: the company is not responsible for the damage or disappearance of personal private property of any kind whatsoever; in the event of injury or death occurring onboard, the train will make the nearest stop and emergency services will be notified as soon as possible…”
“No matter…” the leafy inhabitant had cerebrated as the surroundings thereof were being subjected to a graceful deceleration, using the smallest amount of time to glance at the backpack sharing the same bed as the open chirography.
Closing time had instantaneously entered the reader’s mind as they were shut away from the open world, hidden inside one of many secret compartments belonging to the accessory firmly in its owner’s possession as it’d been latched abaft by two forearms and the hands attached to them now gripping the respective straps. The fact the passenger became more than ready to go on the move wasn’t of any such surprise or concern even as he was gaining awareness of how many likewise were in attendance, all dressed up with a place in on their minds as they were currently shuffling about to little end in sight much to their mutual ambivalence. Under no circumstances was there any additional need to stay here in the bedroom more longer than necessary as far as there was cause for alarm, or lack thereof in this particular case, since departure itself had rested firmly on many minds, like and unlike each other and themselves free from exceptions but filled with rules.
As the door had been opened, both eyes ended up seeing more than a handful of peers nearby; each showed so many differences between its observant owner as there were similarities as well: fine fluxing fibers, fluid formed flesh, fragrantly flamboyant fabrics, and flexibly framed faces.
It didn’t take much for the likes of the former tenant to hear a plentiful of things from anyone and everyone in the same train, not that it’d mattered at least in the short or long run all the same; out of the many words entering and exiting the listener, a few were ones of closest proximity, “isn’t this where we came in…?”
And so we cerebrate the thought of attending the show  
embracing heated exhilaration of star ensign glow
Another set of words traveled as well after a dozen seconds, this time faintly accompanied by artificial levers pressed synced with organic harmony
Perhaps there’s some longing for the sunshine   
that we’d not believed to see.  
Should we wish to discover reality’s iced eyes  
The least could be done is tear off the disguise!
“In Real Life, Mink Gray, Bricks In – a few decades before now, even less before birth…” the interspersing individual ruminated as the plucked strings of a distorted melody followed after, not that it’d mattered whatsoever since the distance between the corporeal being and the airy music had grown big and wide over time no less.
After joining withdrawn masses into the general vicinity of cars making up the locomotive, both textures of hardwood were being felt against each other, found to be part and parcel of a platform where many commuters had remained. It didn’t take long for the details of the new environment to be ascertained by sights and scents alone: mountainsides raging with growth and erosion, filled with aromas devoid of pollution and its pollutants within as intense as ever. Directly touching the tracks were copious amounts of soil painted in a lighter color, formless yet filled with ambiguity as the compounds therein were bound together in conformity as a few little plants sprang up with life and freedom. Even those purple eyes could see a building straightaway within full vision, made up completely of stones slathered in a lighter shade save for several glass windowsills affixed onto the sides, including the green door inside frames. Surrounding it all was a white fence barely separating the area from the rest of the civilization despite being apart of it, especially considering there was nothing whatsoever stopping anyone from going over, around, or thru at all.
In any case, the lone pedestrian watched as the platform itself gotten cleared over time, apathetic to the details of the others coming and going as sights were beginning to grow dull and listless; sure enough, the train from earlier ago had started to pull off from there, resuming the orchestral movement which had signaled its arrival prior, something the former had related to instantly.
Almost immediately, the sounds of footfalls were striking the surface below gently, made none other than by its sole owner as rigid knuckles delicately tapped the translucent texture at once; soon, the static staccato was being instantaneously answered by a gruff voice from the other side, “yes, can I help you…?”
“Hi, I want… to get some… directions… to the town’s… own local… florist, please…” another tone escaped in a reply, belonging to the traveler in question alone as it was lighter and oxygenated despite being choked out intermittently so to speak, “do you know… where to go…?”
“Straight to town hall dead center behind me and next to the Sugarcube Corner; you can’t miss it: the top will look like a pink cupcake as soon as you get here…” the primordial speaker intoned at once, sending the lonely listener onto the next destination at once without even bothering to look.
It didn’t take long for the interactive individual to leave this place at once but not before saying, “thank you…”
At that very moment, it was time to keep on moving forward as both eyes found their shared viewpoint entering a neighborhood, each structure made with materials reminiscent of three little pigs: straws for roofs, sticks for support, and bricks for integuments. The pedestrian could also see a number of people currently increasing in density while walking all throughout the dirt road between them, already cast off in a larger sea no different from the other passengers found on the very same locomotive not so long ago. Even though there more eyes belonging to numerous passersby looking back in turn, not a single one of them had dared to make an approach, leaving the owner of one particular pair alone whilst keeping their collective distances in check for one reason or another. More often than not, the traveler couldn’t find it any helpful whatsoever other than to see a few faces possessed by some shiny happy people encountered on the way, something that was rather lacking for the rest as well as the former as far as concern remained.
It wasn’t long until a spiral building had entered the line of eyesight, stuck in the middle of it all the land and water adjacent to them as its sweet blue flag fluttered against wind above the brown tile; still, the journey wasn’t over. To say another had resembled a certain food was an understatement: its frosted chocolate roofing topped off with its towering cupola had bore the aforementioned shape spoken to the inquisitive individual where lampposts stood. With it being said, it was still inedible due to its residential purpose; matter of fact, two objects stood onto the rooftop’s ends: a purple chimney with some smoke climbing up and a nest made up of straw beneath a lone flower. The sturdy walls where the windows remained adorned had been clothed in a uniform species of platinum accented by the wood and glass plastered in many different shades of pink imaginable, thanks to sunlight sparkling about. What had made it very special were the two stripey pillars colored in a pattern of pink and white as they were standing nearby a purple egress with a small stairwell sharing the very same color with a flowerbed and mailbox too.
As appealing as it was to most observers, the pedestrian in particular turned both orbs onto yet another building standing near: it was much smaller in size with roofing composed of thick hay as all the walls were colored in a predominantly emerald splash; one significant feature already adorned happened to be an abundance of flowers in no less than two dimensions up on display.
It didn’t take long for both feet to be planted firmly next to the doorway underneath the balcony, most of which was painted in a tickled hot pink scheme with a trio of yellow petals surrounding a light sapphire horseshoe matching its handle; after taking in a long deep breath, a knock on its surface was heard, this time more firm yet fair as the taps of the looking glass from much earlier.
“Just a second…!” a faint voice had now escaped into the open world, corporeal as the concise conversation from before but more maidenly all the same, “who is it…?”
“No one in particular: just a customer…” the traveler answered the tenant almost instantly, bearing more depth than previously all the same.
After hearing some footfalls creaking down onto the hardened surfaces, the clicking of metals were listened to afore the upper partition pulling inward, leaving the identity to become revealed. A tall bright woman with thinly purple hair had pushed herself out into the spacious atmosphere, gently leaning onto the jaded remainder as she’d looked around for anyone to continue the talks. All eyes were glittering with gold experience as they’d matched the blouse adorning her lanky body, bereft of shimmers due to their organic materials yet light enough to be welcoming no less.
It wasn’t long until the bright woman had made eye contact with her observer instantaneously, hesitant initially but brave enough to ask, “what can I get for you, stranger…?”
“Do you have any charities I can donate to, madam…?” the intermediate individual inquired immediately in an immanent impression of interchange, “I would like to actually do so for a special occasion please…”
“You look a little younger than I’d projected: are you actually of age to be doing this by yourself; where are your parents…?” she’d asked instantly.
This earned a faint frown from the interviewee, despite the lack of hostility within; nevertheless, an answer was given to the bright woman, “gone… but not forgotten…”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir: I didn’t know about it; usually, I avoid allowing kids to partake in such things without any permission at all…” she gasped with little warning, her neutral tone now melded into a somber complexion while still staring right at the lone pedestrian, “what happened to them…?”
“I kindly… prefer not… to answer… miss…” some words trailed off into the bright woman’s ears at once, defaulting back to the previous tone.
It wasn’t long until she’d finished the traveler’s sentence in an instant, “Underground, Violet Underground, but you can call me miss Violet ‘cause everyone does, especially my sister Misty; what’s your name…?”
“Canterine… Canterine Sorrow… but others call me either Cant or Canter but never Can…” the little listener had answered in turn to the very titular tenant in question, looking away from herself only ever so slightly, “although that I’d lived nearby, I’m not from around here to be honest…”
“I’m not a local here either: my sister and I are from Neighpon and we’ve gotten a part–time job here at the local floristry; our employers used to do all the work themselves before until the war years ago…” the bright woman had said to the eponymous speaker almost without any kind of hesitation whatsoever.
It didn’t take long for the interspersed individual to reply to her, “I know… it’s not really much of a concern as it used to be anymore, at least for some people; they want life to go on as it is and forget about the ones that came before them as if nothing is or was wrong to begin with…”
“I disagree: people remember the dead as well; I know one of my employers had a sister who died in childbirth several years back…” Violet interjected gently, catching Can off–guard as she’d pulled back from the latter almost immediately with a slight frown too, “they were both the closest to each other since their very infancy because they were twins, same yet different too.”
“I had brothers older than me and we barely had anything in common with ourselves I’m afraid; even I knew this to be true but the lie was just too appealing all the same: everyone is special in their own unique way… yeah, right… and I’m the Duke of Manehattan…” the petite pedestrian prattled on plainly, popping up a plane of predominant perspective of pithy protective premises.
This left the bright woman a little cross though she’d stood her ground in continuing on the very conversation all the same, “look, if you’re looking for trouble, then please reconsider your choices here; everyone’s been hurt over the years because of the war but that doesn’t mean you have to be like this forever: there are still some options for remedying your ongoing issues…”
“You don’t need to remind me of that; after all, you weren’t the first person to tell me this advice: I know far too plenty…” Can spoke as the orange backpack had now taken the forefront between its owner and herself, the former reaching inwardly, “in any case, here’s the money for charity; I no longer have any further need for your currency much longer as far as I see it…”
“This is a little much, even for me; are you sure you’re going to be fine with making a donation of this size…?” Violet inquired suddenly as she’d watched the timid traveler go and pull out a huge sack where the jingling of metal was being heard from within its round dimensions instantaneously.
Can ignored the bright woman’s newfound concerns as the former had quickly responded almost immediately, “keep it; my family, may their souls rest in peace, almost never used money in our lifetimes: after all, one half of most currencies come from the forest but the other half, such as yours, is made of metal.”
“Then how do you all manage to live without commerce and stuff…?” she’d asked the indifferent individual as the rough surface area touched her palm without so much as a care in the whole wide world from the latter, “surely you would’ve had something you’d liked to buy and/or sell…”
“You wouldn’t understand anyway; I tried to get others too back then and look at me: a lonely drifter with nothing better to say or do for that matter…” Can sighed before putting the resealed knapsack abaft and turning away from Violet slowly, taking enough steps to keep the distance between themselves at once.
The bright woman had lowered the small sack out of sight as well as mind and leaned out a little forward to speak towards the perambulating pedestrian in due time all the same, “but what will you do for yourself for the rest of your life, sir…?”
“’What will I do?’” Can repeated after stopping himself in place, turning around to face her once more with clarity before facing forward again, “I’ve been asking myself the very same question since I was a little boy but it doesn’t matter anymore; what matters to me shouldn’t ever be anyone else’s business but mine alone: as far as I see it, I don’t really care about it anymore so to speak.”
“What exactly is wrong with these people: they used to be so nice and friendly with each other and themselves but now they’re just cold and distant like our homeland; did all this unrest and fighting destroy their way of life and everything they’d stood for, including himself as well…?” Violet thought to herself as the tense traveler walked further away from the house she was in.
It didn’t take long for the bright woman to be left alone again with nothing more than the sights and sounds of flora and fauna respectively keeping herself company as the stardust memories of Can’s transfer had left her at a loss for words in an equivalent exchange between none other than themselves but no one else thereof to give their input of any kind whatsoever freely so to speak.

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                          Oxygen                           
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Author's Note
It's Fireflower again with the sixth installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic going beyond the typical oneshots I'd made from before and already using canon characters as human beings instead of their normal forms; however, this is nonetheless a Mature fimfic despite this chapter being tame compared to future ones.
In addition, I would like to take this time to confess that this nightmare was based on one I had back in the summertime; at the risk of spoiling it, I'll give you some clues that had inspired it all, something that many of us can relate to: Missile Command, Terminator, Future War 198X, The Day After, The Sum of All Fears, When The Wind Blows, and Threads.
As My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro, some characters appearing from other media don't belong to me at all either; however, only this concept of my fanfic still belongs to me so I will say this line one time: please do not steal this story or I will sue.
Oxygen
The big blue skies were darkened about with the moon and stars nearly obscured by an enormous squall line of clouds all thick like butterscotch pudding itself. Traveling across the log horizon of the dulled firmaments were but brief flashes of electricity all slithering about like venomous snakes of the distant pastimes. Thunderclaps had rolled on instantaneously as the sound barriers were cracked open followed by torrential downpours touching the solid earth underneath all. Topsoil containing a few flow flora upon themselves were already moistened by the pitter–patter of such minute droplets being pulled down by gravity alone. To say that the loneliness was currently filling in the dead air served as a great understatement, even if a single grain of truth had been planted in previously.
This proved to be of no consequence whatsoever as a metal contraption was found to be traveling across the landscape in spite of the storm up on high. Although it was boxy, there were plenty of curves to go around; most of the materials composed were slathered in high yellow schematics so to speak. Having said it, there were many signs of wear and tear all throughout the very machine, having signified the overall usage; nevertheless, it persisted. Illuminating the path of least persistence front and back were small lights at their symmetrical cornering: the former snow white, the latter rose red. The looking glasses were being hampered by the rainfall above yet had remained unharmed due to their shared diminutive sizes, speeds, and textures. In addition, its tailpipe had expelled some jet–black clouds of smoke and steam into the opened atmosphere just right before their instant dissipation.
Its interiors were more drier and darker compared to the external surface, especially since there were plenty of reasons in regards to wherefore. In the upper left corner, a steering wheel was resting between the angular seat already adjusted and the circular gauges being stabilized at once. The opposite side of its dashboard was lacking, closed off to both the inner universe and outer world due to a tiny metallic lock in the middle. Going between them was an interface full of buttons and knobs with two thin ingresses imprinted about despite being opened up for its observers. Resting adjacently from it all was a handle stuck in a predetermined pathway planned out in past and future with several letters and a few digits. Several vents had been plastered across the confined space, each of them already producing their own airstreams in all too many fixed directions. The upholstery covering the seating area up and down the contraption was an amalgamation of various softened substances and compounds.
Within the small world were two individuals both alike in fair dignity now watching the scenery blend into the lines of vision as they’d kept on moving straightforwardly. Each of them had their commonalities pronounced by their dark attire and angles already on a full display as their eyes were already focused onto the rainy windshield. Now, it would’ve seemed safe to say whatever was on their very minds, the literal roadway they were currently traveling on was finite yet felt as the end had yet to arrive.
On the other hand, they still had some significant differences between one another, especially at the first glance from a separated perspective so to speak of. For starters, one of the individuals was firmly at the wheel instantly hands–on whereas the other was resting right at the opposite end of the area diagonally. Secondment, its driver was tall and muscular, dark brown and gray hair matched both eyes whilst its passenger was shorter and scrawny with emerald foliage. Thirdly, the broad brunet had a bright complexion upon the integuments filled with softer fluids while the leafy lounger bore a harder and spotty dark shell. Third of all, the brighter driver wore a yellow shirt with darker and lighter stripes running down whereas the dark passenger had an orange cap and red tunic. Fourthly, the broad brunet remained strongly awake even with all the wrinkles in time while the leafy lounger was torpid, dead to the world but still alive. As far as the brighter driver was concerned, a frown rested underneath the mustache; the darker passenger was devoid of emotion by virtue of being asleep.
“Good evening, Equestria, this is K–COBS and welcome to the sixty second news, your one stop place for brevity in a world of sound and joy: first off, Princess Twilight Sparkle has died last night at the age of thirty–six following a long arduous battle with cancer over the past decade…” a calmly somber voice escaped into the open air, belonging to neither the brunet nor lounger.
This was of no concern or interest whatsoever for the driver as a nearby button had been pressed on, cutting off the conversation instantaneously only to be presented with a new line of dialogue, “this has come to a shock and surprise to us all since the young woman became known for her charitable deeds in and out of the homeland after a sudden refugee crisis thirteen years ago…”
“We shan’t forget the performances of this brave soul whom went above and beyond the call to responsibility despite everything!” another voice boomed, more regal and matronly compared to the very predecessors which had invaded the twosome’s spacing, “dearest Twilight had freed me from mine inner darkness two decades ago and sat me right onto the path of forgiveness overall. Even though we hadst come from two different times, we’d existed on the very same line as one singular generation of individuals: between mine exile and her arrival, there wert problems in our society left behind for dear sister Celestia to adapt and overcome; because of mine failed rebellion, I’d become fully accountable in abandoning obligations to both Crown and Country.”
“Is this what we’ve become now, monsters in skins and fabrics worn by our own kind no less?!” a gruff voice wheezed as a dial was being turned by the brunet’s hand, welcoming the static mesh briefly before a sober rhythmically quiet procession of woodwind keys were being pressed separately in the air, one fragment bearing an octave with an accompanying triplet all the while (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nT7_IZPHHb0).
This didn’t go unnoticed by the passenger abaft, awakening with a confused mew, “hmm…?”
“I’m sorry, hombre, we’re still in the desert, I’m afraid; it won’t be long until get to the next warp pad…” the brighter driver said to the leafy lounger almost immediately before returning both eyes onto the road ahead.
It didn’t take long for the dark passenger to speak out, “what pad… what’s going on…?”
“It’s okay, hombre, you’re safe with me… we’ve managed to get rid of all el mal pendejos and their amigos here and abroad…” the broad brunet had answered the leafy lounger almost immediately, soothing externally but seething about all the very same, “these bastardos have made our lives a living inferno for over a decade, stealing, killing, and destroying all of them…”
“I don’t get you; was there something I’m missing…?” the dark passenger had asked timidly so to speak of.
An exasperated yet sympathetic sigh escaped the brighter driver’s lips within due time, “I see that the firebombings did a number on you; I can never forget the day I’d lost it all: my home, my job, and my wife, all in one day no less. Even though that brave soul and her friends came to help us, they couldn’t save her life at all: mi amor, God bless her, had battled creatures more unfamiliar compared to my kind; she was my everything and then these culeros took her away and for what – energy, food, water, resources humans need to breathe?! Angie… Angie… Angie… ANGIE…!”
“Wha?!” the leafy lounger yelped as the cap touched the surface area adjoining the current spot without any warning whatsoever, “who is she…?”
“Angie, she is, or rather was, my wife and she’s dead – these men running the countries back where I’d came from turned our world into Hell itself; waters poisoned with radiation, food burned by fires, and a plague of sickness for the survivors to live in like mi uno familia…!” the broad brunet muttered as heartbeats skipped out between intervals, measured by all fingertips.
Reluctantly, the dark passenger struggled to sit back up and say, “how did it happen and when did she show up…?”
“I guess since we have a long way to go, I guess I should tell you already; after all, you did tell me your story, Canterine…” the brighter driver laughed mirthlessly as he’d soon looked around to discovered the remaining raindrops receding recently, “it’d all started back in A.D. 2015 on my own world, or at least what used to be the world itself before what had happened to all of us. I was just merely known as Rafael Eduardo Diaz, a simple artist living in the suburbs of Echo Creek with a wife and two kids; you already know her name thanks to me, but you never knew theirs, let alone remember what they’d looked like before then: I had a son named Marco and a newborn daughter Mariposa – even saying their names had still left me feeling guilty to this day. As a Spaniard, I’d became firmly aware of my people’s history with the ruling governments past and present so to speak of: how many were killed over many in silly arguments about limited resources and tribal idolatry in a span of countless years; even to this day, I’ve been shocked and outrage as to how this keeps going on like nothing is wrong or right anymore to any of us at all. Nevertheless, there were still some kind souls throughout the times before I was ever even born and there will more after I’m gone: Angelica was one of these people and she wasn’t like the rest of her kind even after when my homeland had just transitioned on; it’s no wonder why she’d ended up with that name, such a fitting one and a prophetic one at that since I’m speaking of her. Speaking of which, she wasn’t the only fresh face full of life and love in a world already gone mad enough with and without power; as a matter of fact, this world that Equestria is on wasn’t the first dimension I’d traveled to, let alone been visited from overall: there was a young girl that came to our world before our baby daughter was ever even born into this mad plane of existence. Her name was Star Butterfly and she was also a princess of a kingdom from another dimension just like this one called Mewni: her parents had sent her away to my family’s world so she can get better control of her magic safely and without fear of danger; of course, it didn’t stop those whom wanted control of her magic no matter how many times they’d been defeated so easily. Yet, it seems that hostile lifeforms aren’t just restricted to what had used to be her very ancestral homeworld so to speak of here: over time, the enemies ended up including the subjects her family wished to protect and serve with the magic passed down too; one of them was ancient soldier by the name of Mina Loveberry leading an army of stone warriors created by her trainer. At first, it’d have seemed that peace would return after her defeat and dishonor at the hands of Star Butterfly and her friends; sadly, we were all mistaken, every single last one of us and not just the humans, Mewmans, and monsters alike I’m afraid here: on one quiet day without a rhyme or reason, a big explosion had taken out much of our homes far and wide in so little time. While many of us had stayed intact, it was only in a matter of days we’d envied and pitied those already vaporized in the attack: starvation, sickness, rioting, fires, and debris started to take as much as it could no matter how old or even young we all were; my wife had died because I was too stupid to protect her from the incoming storm of radiation and fallout the bombing brought!”
“Dear Heaven…!” the titular listener peeped.
Just when it’d seemed like the broad brunet was alone in making a messy melody of melancholy, several projectiles had rained down onto the very machine without any introduction whatsoever, sending it off course despite his best attempts to maintain its cruise control upon the very road.
It wasn’t longed until Rafael barked, “DIOS MIO…!”
“What in the world is going on; who’s attacking us?!” the leafy lounger screamed as smoke had appeared on the hood of the contraption before both pairs of eyes, “Mister Diaz?!”
“Hold on, hombre…!” the brighter driver commanded as he’d found himself careening off the pavement in due time, traversing the wet sands within seconds with themselves bouncing up and down the very terrain almost immediately.
It wasn’t long until they’d crashed into a lone cactus, crushing the front of the vehicle into a gnarled shape as the glass broke formation and spread itself out of place with gravity kicking in; as a result, both inhabitants felt their bodies become heavy with opposing force, pushed forward as first yet otherwise concious all the same.
Still, there was strain in their bodies clamping down as they came to long enough to hear another booming voice, “RAFAEL DIAZ AND CANTERINE SORROW, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE CROWN AND COUNTRY: GET OUT OF THE CAR AND SURRENDER YOURSELVES AT ONCE; THERE’S NOWHERE ELSE TO RUN OR HIDE!”
“What crimes; what did I do exactly: what’s going on?!” the latter listener had asked the former operator as both had pressed the red button near their waists, releasing them from their restraints at once, “Mister Diaz…?”
“Just fight, hombre… there’s an anti–air… missile launcher… in the trunk that can… help you out from there… it’s already… too late for me… since I’ve lost everything… including my own strength…” the brighter brunet had coughed out as blood also escaped from his maws in the process.
The leafy listener jostled Rafael’s flesh around but to little avail as the former screeched about, “Mister Diaz?!”
“THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE FOR LENIENCY…!” the masculine boom from before had barked out as a bright circle of light surrounded the car for Canterine to see clearly despite the newfound nearsightedness, “SURRENDER NOW OR PERISH AT THE MIGHT OF OUR WEAPONS…!”
“No…” the former passenger had uttered quietly.
As Canterine vacated the vehicle, the former driver wheezed again, “so this is it… thirteen long years… oh, how I miss you… and yet, will I… follow you there… into the light…? Angelica… if you’re watching… please forgive me… for not saving… you back in the day… I couldn’t let… go of the past… in time enough… at all, my dear…”
“No, why?!” the dark pedestrian cerebrated, looking upwardly to find a crimson helicopter still hovering directly above the wreckage: although its pilot remained unseen, the former knew firmly well what emotions were being felt by the latter considering recent events; what was seen was the spotlight shining onward with a turret pointing down, “it’s happening again; I hate this!”
“YOU HAVE THIRTY SECONDS TO MAKE YOUR DECISION, PUNKS…!” the operator’s voice echoed once more with feeling as Canterine opened the back of the scrapped metal heap which used to be their only instrument of escape, pulling out a big cylindrical tube slathered in forest green with a white conical spear fitted at one end and a side monitor hung in the middle.
After also pulling out a jet–black submachine pistol, the leafy layaway took his deep breath and said to himself, “I ain’t letting this slide at all: you take away too much and you’ve crossed the line; go down in flames…!”
Upon gripping the trigger upwardly, Canterine wasted no time pulling it almost immediately, sending the projectile in the air: it didn’t take long for the rocketing propulsion globe to crash into the surface area of the very hovering mechanism over time; as a result, a huge explosion took out much of it instantaneously as the smoke and flames appeared from the cracked imprint. Despite everything, the aircraft was soon spinning out of control for the dark pedestrian to bear witness with little care in the world, watching it fall out of the sky before crashing and burning into the sands of time and space as a black pillar of gases rose in their place with rotors slowing down to a complete stop in due time, no different from the monoxide from the motorcar earlier. Canterine took the time to grab an orange backpack from the car as well, quickly retreating to the side where the downed helicopter had lain opposite before looking inside its contents frantically: several cartridges and a few spheres were found within both eyes as its owner clawed throughout carefully to load the weapon with one of them after discovering an empty object instantaneously.
“Oh, you’re gonna regret this, bastard…!” another masculine vociferation reeked with hatred in the veins, breaking the line of thought calculated by the likes of the leafy lounger, “kill one of my friends, you ain’t going home alive…!”
“Don’t count on it…!” said Canterine silently.
Grabbing a rough sphere from within, the ligneous pedestrian pulled out its pin and had thrown it over the wreckage in an arc towards the corporeal voice almost immediately, “look out…!”
Another loud burst of air was heard in the cold distance, no doubt the work of Canterine alone currently double–checking the very heavy object in question before wearing the knapsack abaft instantaneously at once.
“I don’t know what’s happening here and I don’t like what’s going on either: first, it’s some tragical history tour; now, it’s a science–fantasy comedy…” the leafy combatant ruminated as stardust memories thereof were being gathered up by the collective willpower within, “there’s no way I would’ve been able to get ahold of something like this yet I felt like it’s calling out to me! There are so many questions about this that I need to know, especially with all this madness I’m facing altogether; Rafael said there was a huge war that broke out with people whose names I don’t even know, much less their homeland: who was he, why am I here, how did this happen, when did I grow up, where did it all go wrong, and what does this have to do with me at all?!”
“You took my friend Abbacchio away from me and now we’re gonna make you pay, brat…!” the same voice from before bellowed as footfalls beat against the sand and fog underneath and around.
Taking in a deep breath, Canterine was filled with a terrifying resolve, calm on the outside but thinking all throughout the time: whomever was coming after most likely was in the hovering mechanism that had shot at the automobile Rafael had driven; after all, it was the former’s decision to mount a counterattack following the latter’s sudden decommissioning not long ago.
As soon as the dark belligerent rose from the shielding debris, both eyes were treated to the sight of another man with a much smaller firearm heading out into the former’s direction straightaway. Like the broad brunet, the surviving challenger was full of muscles yet was also thinner as well; in addition, the latter was much taller compared to Canterine by over a foot in sheer height alone. Both eyes were filled with irises bearing the qualities of a black hole but the only things being sucked into them were the information regarding his target and their collective whereabouts only. Upon the lanky survivor’s integuments were of a brighter complexion than the likes of both Rafael and Canterine put together, especially considering all of the flesh but none of the leaves. Menacingly clothed in a purple hat with a white grid and down arrow matching a short sweater, light vermilion pants with black stripes held by a blue belt, and dark red boots, its wearer ran to.
The leafy combatant wasted no time taking aim at his opponent instantaneously, squeezing the trigger without hesitation or remorse as thunderous roar escaped from the submachine pistol; while every single bullet escaped from their magazine, not a single one struck the latter in any form or fashion whatsoever, despite the former’s clear eyesight and calm demeanor overall.
It wasn’t long until rapidly acute clicks had enter the lanky survivor’s ears as Canterine peeped, “shit…!”
“Aw, what’s the matter: ran out of bullets already…?” the other gunman cooed playfully as the dark belligerent retreated back to the impromptu hideyhole, “maybe you should go ask mommy and daddy to help you with that; shame they can’t help you now, even if they’d wanted to, baby Catherine…”
“Leave my parents out of this, will ya?!” Canterine had spat out while struggling to to reload the armament still in both hands despite the trepidations and tremors within presently gaining ground gradually.
The lanky survivor dementedly grin about as he’d approached the leafy combatant’s side confidently, taunting about with impunity, “your skill with firearms was rather impressive for a guy so little: it’s no wonder why Equestria wanted you gone for good; though to be honest, you would’ve made a great soldier on their behalf. Of course, there was also another reason why taking you out was a must: the two Princesses were well aware of all the lifeforms showing up from the Everfree Forest and King Aspen wasn’t the only one with such powers; as a matter of fact, you even managed to scare him with that knowledge alone. Nevertheless, your obsession with bloodlust and vengeance was scaring all the pretty ladies and the princesses’ gentleman too: had to go and kill some people over some firebombings that had almost killed you recently and at a young age no less; Tsutomu would’ve been pretty proud of you if you were so much of an evil scumbag but it doesn’t matter anymore. The second you took aim at me, you’d lost before it was even game over: I have luck on my side and no amount of firepower was going to change any of that whatsoever; even your puny little grenade barely missed and that’s what gave it all away from you…!”
“It’s not over yet, you big bully: I still have six rounds to go before you take me down…!” Canterine retorted as another cartridge was replaced almost immediately as it was jammed in, “as soon as I get out, you’re done…”
“I don’t think you’re understanding something: you've lost and even if you do waste me, it won’t even matter anyway; you stuck out here in the desert with a long rapsheet filled with dead bodies up and down Equestria and beyond, including my homeworld…!” the colorful gunman had soon growled in turn at his clandestine target all the while so to speak of.
Canterine paid no mind to the lanky survivor’s words as thoughts swirled about once more, “it was just a fluke: you won’t miss this one; after all, he’s just one guy… right?!”
“SEX PISTOLS, GO…!” the colorful gunman cried before finally taking a shot into the opened atmosphere where his opponent remained in spite of protection, “LET’S GIVE THIS LITTLE BASTARD A PARTING GIFT…!”
“Yes, boss man…!” a high pitched voiced also squeaked, coming from neither the lanky survivor nor Canterine at all; instead, it’d came from a sextet of little gilded masses with arms and legs reminiscent of the former’s body with peaking domes: although each of them had digits on them, there was no sign whatsoever of the number four but rather a clear sign of the number seven.
Whatever time the dark belligerent gotten on his hands was cut short as a red crystal appeared within range, already ridden on by the metallic faces as they guided it into their viewer’s forehead before the former gasped, “WHA–––!”
“YAY, MISTA…!” the small sextet had cried as Canterine was suddenly slain in action, dropping the object in hand before collapsing onto the ground at once, “SUCK IT DOWN, LITTLE FAGGOT: THAT’S THE PRICE OF FAILURE; YOU GOT WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE…!”
“Dammit…!” the leafy combatant struggled to speak despite being at a loss of words, not that it’d mattered since both clothes and integuments became more ragged in appearance and temperament respectively; sure enough, the victim was a worn out husk from top to bottom as all of the leaves turned brown and fell from their withered points of origin slowly so to speak.
Canterine was now stuck seeing darkness as both eyes became bereft of life and color, his body warped with various edges and curves becoming devoid of moisture and air as they grew gnarly and crooked like a presidential candidate of a bygone era, not that the shooter had cared at all whatsoever since he didn’t even see his target bother to appear like not too long ago so to speak.

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                        Hardboiled                         
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Author's Note
It's Fireflower yet again with the sixth installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic still going beyond the typical oneshots I'd made from before and already using canon characters as human beings instead of their normal forms; however, this is nonetheless a Mature fimfic despite this chapter being tame compared to future ones, like before because of the brief nudity.
As usual like before, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic still belongs to me so I will say this very line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.
Lastly, let me also say that I hope you can use this chapter as a breather now much like the others before it and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned though the passing times since this will still be more tame; henceforth, I will leave you with but one saying only: thank you very much.
Hardboiled
Darkness prevailed throughout its boundaries, serving as the only way of how the small world worked, especially since it was a part of reality itself interchangeably. The jet–black void was all that can be experienced, devoid of sounds, feelings, tastes, and scents as not even a modicum of light bore any hue whatsoever to permeate. For a moment, it’d seemed all was completely lost, a dark fate already sealed and set in stone to say in the very least before the very beginning, utterly unchangeable.
“Bee–de–dee–deep…!” a sound rang out, quickly scaring away the golden silence which had once resided within the very colorless confines.
It wasn’t even long until the repetition of such an automated cry had became the stimuli speedily triggered another event to take place at once. Before long, the softest shuffling about had came about in a slightly reckless abandon, lower and quieter than a careless whisper all the while. As the ringing continued itself on, the noise pollution as of this moment in time was gradually amplified by the suddenly organic groaning. Soon, some quick footfalls were found to be creaking on and about, its surface area underneath them being more than where its owner lain. At long last, there was a complete silence already returning right back to the real world it’d once dominated recently, leaving the void unhurt.
Just when it’d seemed that things were more than ready to go back to normalcy, one voice low and husky with resignation betrayed that notion instantly thanks to a sigh, “okay, Eugene… you can do this: you’ve almost made it to the weekend; focus on finishing up and you’ll be done until Monday…”
It wasn’t even long until a singular flick of a switch had bathed the naked space in light, instantly chasing away the darkness as it’d became identified within all due time. The ceiling which had served as the foundation of such an illumination was suspended by about a mere few yards from the very flooring as it provided guidance quickly. The partitions currently holding up the general composition were already dabbed in a salubrious coating of vermilion wallpapering studded with carotene textures inside. The flooring itself was already basked in a tufted and orientated carpeting, rich with but a down–to–earth shade of viridian, something to provide the coldness altogether. A set of white curtains were found to be covering up a windowsill and the gateway to the outside world beyond the time and space, stagnantly unmoving as they’d hung. An enormous bed had rested nearby the frame, all donned with a goldenrod comforter white blue sheets and pillowcase already slightly out of place yet otherwise so neat. A tall dresser stood close by a short nightstand, both of them sharing a matching taupe scheme, the latter having possessed a slender lamp and clock standing atop it all. In addition, there had remained a pair of doors that were standing adjacent from the bedside with a share of wooden knobs with all the plum lacquer and textures therein.
Finally, there was the corporeal tenant: a pasty white man stood taller like a skyscraper bereft of both pride and accomplishment as unscrupulously avaricious failures were deserving so to speak. He’d possessed three lanky strands of orange hair curving firmly over his forehead out of the remaining fuzz resting on all the scalps’ fiber throughout as they barely protected it all the while. Considering the lids were now becoming wide open, the weary pupils were surrounded by fused aquamarines while the brows far above them had remained upon an edgy and slanted incline. Eugene’s face was angular, pale like an otherworldly specter yet full of life despite the wrinkles within the integuments circling about tightly with pockets of skin painted in the darker shading. Draped upon the withering muscles of the generally lanky man’s body was a silver sleeveless shirt and a stripey pair of boxers painted in green and white running downward in a small path.
Standing up straightaway, he’d walked towards the dresser in mere seconds, opening the tray to pull out a few articles of clothing: a white shirt and matching socks with silvery boxers were now resting beneath his right underarm before venturing off outside without any kind of complaint whatsoever.
With one door shut abaft Eugene completely, another was ajar on the left side, leaving himself no time to be wasted in any form whatsoever since the hallway separating between the two of them wasn’t much of a concern for walking distance though it was smaller in geometry no less. The slow yet steady change in temperature was already being suddenly felt by the lanky man’s feet, currently showing off only instantaneously its very flooring was composed completely of merely ceramic tiles in an oceanic arrangement reminiscent of its surface world’s scarce volume. Instead of a warm color shade from before, its walls were adorned with a cold purple slather, leaning into the go between of medicine and poison but otherwise inactive; however, the ceiling was colored in jet–black, bearing a singular light bulb where running electricity brighten it all up. Its accommodations thereof were all firmly gathered within his line of eyesight: a toilet, sink, mirror, cabinet, hamper, closet, and bathtub with curtains became the very things providing such relief within those eyes; after all, the fact he was up and running gave him a clear motivation.
At this moment alone, Eugene now had made it possibly sure enough prevent any unwanted intrusions by locking the door right away already. Walking over to the closet door, the lanky man pulled out a blue towel and a brown washcloth from there before turning his attention to the tub. Already made aware of the current attire onto his body, they’d been completely stripped off of himself at once, leaving the skin absolutely bare.
Eugene had soon stepped inside rather slowly and carefully at once, quickly closing up the very curtains along as well so as to shut out the cold air before it’d even got the slightest chance of following after him. The lanky man had soon took his precious time studying what was now directly right upfront: the nozzle guided straight overhead hung in from the walls with the mixer tap and its three handles had rested beneath.
Calmly, he’d started to place his hand onto one handle in the middle before arranging the others nearby; before long, a heightened pitch whine was followed by a deluge of water splashing onto his pasty skin. As the cheeks upon the face had become like fresh pearls, Eugene had soon looked around to discover a singular ruby bar of soap and began to expose the very item to the running downpour into the now. Soon, it was wrapped around the brown washcloth and scoured vigorously until some thin line of foam came about in an instant; as a result, a brief sigh of relief escaped from the lanky man’s lips based on sight.
Afterwards, only the lukewarm water returned to the most dominate and sole source of sound for him to hear; of course, this alone wouldn’t even last. With the washcloth in hand, Eugene had touched both of his ears and dug into them with ease, using a singular fingertip to do so before pulling out. Now its fabric and foam interfaced with the lanky man’s face, scrubbing the pores cleanly and intently until it’d lowered itself to the neckline briefly. He’d started to cover himself with soap underneath the cheekbones and around the arms, soon slathering spume across every part of his skin over. Quickly, the muscular yet otherwise emaciated formation was already drenched by the vert same substance Eugene latched on his torso and abdomen. More bubbles had even formed as the lanky man scrubbed his legs and feet from top to bottom, making sure to clean the most clandestine crevices.
After becoming completely covered in the hot white foam, he’d moved back towards the stream and reverted back to his original form at once as the suds simply slithered down into the drain. Next, Eugene had then gotten around to turning the very nozzle off completely, quickly ceasing the concentrated inundation from making such contact with his bright skin in only a few seconds. Clad in only liquid moisture and gaseous steam all throughout the way, the lanky man had now opened the very curtains back up simply to step out of the tub carefully as to avoid a sudden fall.
He’d strutted along to the sink and found an orange toothbrush as well as with some toothpaste resting on the side, carefully opening up the cap to place it onto the corner: the tube was lifted off into his very grasp, squirting out a snow white semisolid before returning to its previous location; afterwards, the bristles were raised up to his teeth, finally making first contact. Eugene had presently felt the toothbrush running directly into the very mouth as it soon scoured over the enamel at once in such acute angles, repeatedly circulating onward and about as he’d guided the item to every part of his dentition within before pulling out from there in due time no less, watching the fibers becoming stained with a bit of claret clinging onward. The faucet within the lanky man’s line of eyesight was turned on almost instantly, giving him a clear opportunity to spit out the contents that accumulated inside since long before; as the water ran itself down into the drain, he rinsed away the remaining residuals from the orange toothbrush neatly before turning it off with but a sigh of relief from his respiration at once.
Now he’d quickly turned his attention towards the very hamper, already made aware of the fresh new clothes stacked on top of them taken along not earlier ago. First, Eugene began putting the silvery boxers over his legs after drying himself off with the blue towel; soon, he dressed himself up in a white shirt in due time. Even though that the lanky man was neither in a towel nor in the altogether, the ceramic flooring underneath him instantly gave off a reminder to put on socks. Sure enough, it was now time for him to go leave the bathroom at once, feeling refreshed and renewed by the very experience thereof he partook in recently.
Eugene retraced his very steps back towards the bedroom and quickly took some time to go and concentrate on what had already remained inside of there at once. While it may seemed nothing much had changed at all, the lanky man knew it was only at matter of time until its normalcy could ever be challenged in a heartbeat. Either way, the covers upon his bed were left a bit slightly out of sync but otherwise remained in alignment for the most part, something he’d needed to deal with.
After rearranging the linen and comforter together, Eugene sat down on the bed and looked at the timepiece with a heavy gaze: from the looks of it, his mind could barely adjust itself to the current situation at hand, much less his external surroundings too; nevertheless, he’d inspected the mechanism within his grip and pressed one of the buttons almost immediately so to speak of.
“Welcome to NPR, the Nationwide People’s Radio, your one stop destination for public news in Equestria as well as beyond it…” it’d spoken in a voice just as masculine as the lanky listener, albeit aged to perfection by a mere few decades with some stability, “I’m your host, Crowned Patron and the time is now 5:00 AM, right on schedule for the morning bulletins live and ready. First off, the nationwide bidding to host the Equestria Games has now entered its second delay ever since the war seven years ago; this is of no surprise whatsoever considering the tumultuous turn of events leading up to the conflict overall, especially at home: of the citizens dismayed include one Rainbow Dash, many whom have remembered her as the current Bearer of Loyalty. She’d once expressed bitter disappointment regarding the recent developments since hopes for a resumption had been cut short: according to herself and many from Cloudsdale, they’d once hoped for their city’s nomination only to be given to Fillydelphia; now, it seems that Fillydelphia has also joined in the ever growing sea of frustration and anxiety at having to wait longer again. On a similar note, the Province of New Ponyland has still been disqualified from hosting the games after a scandalous trial: although merely a few years ago, the impact in and of itself had far reaching consequences than originally projected overall; even the Green Dolphin Argument had been rumored to still have shaken Equestria’s populace from all walks of like imaginable. Anyways, the record case of the millennium had centered around Dreyer Beamer, a convicted triple murderer from Peachtree: despite being seventeen at the time of the crime, he was tried as an adult for the shooting deaths of all the three Meloni sisters; as a result of his subsequent confession, he was initially sentenced to death before having it commuted to life imprisonment.”
“Beamer… it’s been a long time since I’d heard his name and what he’d done to all three of ‘em: to think that fourteen long years of pranks and somersaults would’ve culminated into this mess; it may as well should’ve been me because of what I did to him and his friends, all for a bike…” Eugene cerebrated as a chill went up his spine followed by some hot sweat falling down his face.
The lanky tenant lain onto the surface of the bed as a new speaker took it to the airwaves, this time bearing a maidenly and regal tone, “well, after having narrowly escaped death once again, I couldn’t help myself but to bear the thought of whether or not I’d lost the right to be surprised about what had been uncovered ever since. I guess you could say this had all began because of what should’ve been Princess Cadance wedding: I’m sure that many people in Equestria know this story well enough on their own and our relationship; nevertheless, the fact I’d wasted my life reading all these books made me realize how blind I was to the world. Not only did I end up having to deal with injustice on and off the battlefield, there was also the matter of what had been done in peacetime as well: Hilltop and Cirrus were a wake–up call on their own, especially since one of the enemy soldiers fought to defend our homeland despite what had been done to us following the bombing.”
“Eugene, is that you; are you up already…?” another feminine voice broke his concentration, bearing more corporeality and aging compared to the one from the clock itself, “you’d awfully changed your schedule up a bit; is there a special occasion I need to know about lately…?”
“Just my father’s visit, Miss Carrot Top: tomorrow, he’s going to be stopping over to check up on me; it’s been at least a year since he’d sent me over to Ponyville…” Eugene had answered instantaneously, sitting back upright with his feet planted firmly onto the flooring again as he’d watched the knob turn again.
It didn’t take much for the likes of the lanky man to know what was going to be arriving next as the titular visitor spoke back to him at once, “I know that… I also knew of what your friends back up north had done lately; news tends to travel fast nowadays ever since the media industry grew and the school papers aren’t limited at all.”
“I can see that too; I still remember those days of the Tattletale: spandex shorts my butt…!” he’d chuckled, struggling to stand up straight again in preparation of seeing the female’s form already, “Robby Rabbit used to be kids’ stuff compared to this…”
“At least fake news can still be considered legally satire compared to reality…” Carrot Top spat out as she’d entered the room almost immediately.
It didn’t take long for Eugene to bear witness to the entrant’s form within mere seconds of eye contact as they were now both in the space at once. Like the lanky man himself, Carrot Top stood tall, wearing orange locks and bright skin; still, she was more luscious and filled with freckles too. The ginger woman wore eyes of the brilliant green, devoid of any toxicity yet still lacking in all tranquility as she’d stared at him with a firm glance. Carrot Top’s attire was more modest with her ruby red housecoat overlaying a set of goldenrod undergarments barely within Eugene’s line of sight.
Needless to say, both barefooted gingers had gotten themselves lost in the echoes of time and space but still found the strength to hold their ground all the same; of them, the lanky man was the first to speak outright, “so, what are you going to do today anyway, if you don’t mind me asking about it, Miss…?”
“I’m afraid it should be obvious to you, sir; it’s the same thing as usual: go to the Sugarcube Corner and see if there’s any work…” the woman in red answered almost instantaneously before turning away without so much as a single care in the whole wide world, “of course, seeing that you’ve been busy listening to NPR, it’ll be another two hours at least before they all wake up…”
“To tell you the truth, I’d just turned it on after I’d gotten out of the shower; I figure it’s only a matter of time before sunrise and I end up helping out with the rest of the harvest, ma’am…” Eugene said to Carrot Top with little hesitation.
The woman in red stopped in place prior to peeping about, “of course and you’ve been of much help lately ever since; I still can’t let go of what had happened to my sister Noi: she was just so young like that Apple Bloom girl. Come to think of it, it makes me sick knowing what they did to her and the family too: scattered across the high winds far and wide, people dying left and right, not to mention what they did to poor Applejack; it may as well should’ve been me since we’re so much alike to each other: green eyes, farming hands, and big freckles sharing the same land, at least before the whole restructuring…!”
“Yeah, I’m still sorry about what happened in the war, miss; I know it’s been only a year since my arrival so I’m a little rusty…” the man in white sighed sadly as he’d currently watched Carrot Top cover up her face and eyes directly out of his sights completely, “come to think of it, should it even be wise for me to ask about how long has her family lived here or something…?”
“Don’t be sorry about what they did; be sorry for what you did: after all, even I’m far much too smarter than what others give me credit for…!” the woman in red wailed as she’d found herself inching back towards the door again without any rhyme or reason thereof, “you may not be anything like those brutes who ruined her but you’re still gonna have to cook for yourself here!”
“Agreed…” Eugene said to Carrot Top at once.
After regaining some composure following a few minutes of teardrops, the woman in red spoke to the man in white softly, “I’m gonna go back to bed for a while; I need some time alone again to sleep and get well rested for the coming morning. There’s some juice in the refrigerator but save me at least one glass; I don’t know how much more I can take before it happens again: after all, Berryshine’s still on the wagon after closing up shop years ago.”
“Thanks for reminding me of that, ma’am; I’ll keep it mind…” Eugene replied before turning away in an instant as the door was opened yet again, this time with feeling, “I’ll see you later on in the morning ‘til then…”
“Same here…” Carrot Top cried before closing it all back up as the man in white had just done earlier ago no less.
At long last, he was back again on his lonesome with the mechanism up and running to keep him company altogether, now back onto the host’s voice at once, “in other news, the Springwheel Foundation is still in talks with the mayor of Baltimare after announcing plans of a cross–country road trip recently, despite unrest from both locals and travelers alike. The current head of the multinational corporation, Jolly Goodfellow, had been embroiled in controversy following recent development regarding some rogue employees found dead in the city of Detrot, once the home of the automotive industry, now a cesspool of crime and villainy no different from the likes old Manehattan or Fillydelphia itself. Although the evidence gathered in question remains classified, there were rumors of a secret prototypical weapon being built to combat the rising crime wave, all to serve as a keystone in paving the way for a grand renovation under the watchful eye of Omne Customer Profits following its bankruptcy many years before. This intermingling with years after a series of attacks up and down the western seaboard had left in another multinational company teetering on the edge of severe financial decline; despite being an innovative force in Equestria, their plans to expand to Neighpon have been cut short because of the actions of one Nazca Wolfkin, whom is still at large. In any case, Springwheel has been embroiled in controversy following some rumors regarding an Iorian criminal syndicate called Sanguine: despite abandoning the intercontinental trade of illegal substances from eastern Clymene to western Platom recently, there were numerous incidents of mass casualties and fatalities alike in the previous years. As such, Jolly Goodfellow hasn’t been reached for comment on the rumors to either confirm or deny them in any shape or form so to speak of; however, he has made it clear to heal the divide within Equestria and ease tensions all the same so as to avoid further disunity here and afar alongside others from Neighpon and Saddle Arabia as well.”
“It’s a tragedy, there’s no doubt about that but we must focus on the welfare and wellness of the common good here and abroad…” another masculine voice escaped from the item once more, aged as that of Crowned Patron yet just as young as Eugene no less, “I’ve personally surveilled the info gathered here in Equestria and cooperated with both local and provincial agencies. From what could be ascertained, they should have no problem whatsoever in making sure nothing like this happens again; any traitors to the Crown and Country here as well as the Foundation will not be tolerated on any level and we’ve taken extra steps to ensure the safeguards and procedures preventing such historic repeats…!”
“Good grief, it’s just seemed like yesterday we were used to the whole idea of living out our youth and adolescence; now, it just seems like we’re here in our twenties with nothing to show for it but our memories of how misspent life had been so far due to the sugar high in candy…” the lanky man in white had said softly as he’d stared at the ceiling above himself all the while.
Even with the radio on, Eugene had paid neither mind of the host or his guests of either gender whatsoever no matter what was being said overall.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                         Softshell                         
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Author's Note
Hello there and welcome back to yet another chapter of my fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before which I've given you since inception; suffice to say, the past chapters from before were by far tame for you all, only to serve as a taste of what's to come later on.
As usual, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic still belongs to me so I will say this one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.
Lastly, let me also say that I hope you can stomach this chapter now more than the others before it and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned though the passing times; henceforth, I will leave you with but one saying only: thank you very much.
Softshell
If there was one thing that had proved to be noticeable, then it would be the sheer cold already beginning to envelope anything and anyone around itself; as such, there was basically nothing at all whatsoever to keep things warm and toasty. For starters, the sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel with its white noise hissing amongst a never stagnant but grayscale background; in addition, the clashes of silver chariot and star platinum had gleamed. While there was plenty of light to go around, there was not enough visibility in the very slightest because of the gathering storm, flakes of flurries more innumerable than the last as they found themselves in an attack order without reprieve. In spite of the light and bright shadings, there had been absolutely no signs of any other color out and about capable of standing up to the ongoing blizzard, at least not without being overwhelmed completely by unbridled mischief and mayhem. Although shapeless to a fault, it wasn’t fair or right at all whatsoever to even suggest no structure therein had never been present here or there so to speak; nevertheless, every one of its textures were uniform all the same, bereft of anomalies. To say the loneliness was currently filling the deadened atmosphere had just simply served as an understatement, even if a singular grain of truth had taken root previously ever since their very conception prior, not that it’d matter anyways.
Such details, no matter how minimalistic, were unable to hold a candle to what was found out in the cold distance: a large rodent with fur matching the ice and snow. Despite being out in the cold, the lonely inhabitant was dressed to the height of proper fashion: a red hat with black peak, orange hoodie, green pants and black boots. All that the white rat could feel was the bitter cold crawling in both the frail paws and tail on the account of already being exposed to the ongoing heavy weather now. The lonely inhabitant was currently lying supine, devoid of consciousness yet statically clinging to dear life despite being caught in the opened environs with clothes.
“Kaye, are you cold…?” the white rat had muttered in confusion before coming to, both eyelids flying right open slowly to uncover some jet–black pupils in a small sea of the brilliant green as they’d been assaulted by crystalline snowflakes.
It wasn’t long until the lonely inhabitant slowly came to, snapping upwardly at a right angle to find nothing more than countless shades of both white and gray everywhere possible no less. Although confusing to a fault, it was nothing compared to what the white rat had then discovered in regards to the present position at hand, or rather paw in the observer’s case so to speak of. Now, the lonely inhabitant let out a driving scream capable of piercing the heavens like a drill; however, the shine in the snowstorm was far too strong to let it be heard in any tone whatsoever.
After the white rat’s shock had subsided, the cold fabric shielding its wearer’s legs started to give off a humming buzz; as a result, it’d prompted a left hand to reach into the pocket deeply, quickly finding something almost instantaneously: a white rectangular device with many silver buttons and a black antenna sticking out as well as a green plastic strap latched from.
It didn’t take long for its owner to find a bright screen where some words appeared in white up against a teal background: ‘do you want to start or not?’
Below the question were two more words, both of which were in all capital letters as they were already surrounded by monochromatic rectangles: the first thereof was ‘YES’ in off–white within a jet–black territory; the other beneath, ‘NO’, was inverted by comparison so to speak of.
“What the… what the fuck is this: ‘YES’ or ‘NO’; what does it even mean?!” the white rat had hoarsely exclaimed quietly as a frown appeared upon the very visage while clutching the small electronic firmly, “I don’t like this one bit: I’m a rat trapped out in a blizzard at the middle of nowhere with no one around to hear or see me at all…! Not only that, I found this weird toy in my pocket telling me that a message was received but there’s no name whatsoever; who in the world could’ve possibly sent it, much less know me enough to do so at all: could be one of my old schoolmates doing this but if that’s the case then which one…?”
This was of no consequence whatsoever to the lonely observer as one of the fingers had ended up pressing down onto the centralized part of the interface, inverting the equilateral shapes in turn as its user moved further intermediately before the highlighted option had been selected altogether. As soon as it was done, nothing happened at all in the slightest as far as the white rat can see it clearly: no matter how many times the button had been pressed, the screen above itself remained stagnant to a fault, much to the dismay of its owner frantically trying and failing to see it change. Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time before the lonely observer had surrendered any and all notions of expecting something rather different; it was now time to make do with the utter lack of output and switch back over to the initial option to select it, ready to embrace what came next.
“Eugene Benn, it’s time…” a feminine voice had spoken out, causing the white rat to recoil in shock as both eyes were darting about in search of a corporeal source only to find nobody else but the latter alone.
It didn’t take much for the lonely listener to outcry, “hey, wait a minute: who is this; what do you mean?!”
“Your time has come: head on out to Nasidia in five hours; don’t be late…” the same voice from before had said to Eugene in an instant, unfazed by the loudness from the latter prior, “a shuttle bus has been provided for you in advance and is currently on standby at San Cruise Trail; head further westward until it’s in sight…”
“This is rather unhelpful, I wish I had a map with me: at least it would give me a clue as to where I am; still, I need to know what in the world happened to me of all people…” the white rat cerebrated before taking another look at the minimal surroundings once more with clarity; still, there were no significant changes between now and then so to speak.
Taking one more look at the item in question, its owner was quick to find a compass onscreen with an arrow pointing at the direction in a flash so to speak of; in any case, considering the overall information provided, as well as the lack thereof, there wasn’t much of a choice left for the occasion. Either way, it was time to keep moving forward as far as Eugene was concerned, especially since the blizzard had showed no signs of stopping anytime soon so to speak of; after all, there seemed to be not a display of civilization within walking distance, let alone a tiny house built by a person named Jack. Speaking of such names, the white rat was already left alone with nothing but the clothes on their wearer’s back and a device in paw to provide company; they were but of cold comfort compared to the land of ice and snow being explored at this present moment in time, even more so with the lack of lives. Despite the solitary freedoms, the lonely traveler couldn’t resist feeling at least one additional pair of eyes already being laid out onto to former, being that the mind had formulated a series of scenarios in which were capable of happening in between the present and future alike, for better or for worse. Even with the black boots on the ground still crushing up and down any lingering snowflakes which were accumulating prior, Eugene’s palms became sweaty with all his limbs weakening in dexterity and levity over time in search of what was told earlier, eyes narrowing about almost without end.
Just when it would’ve seemed that the white rat’s body was about to implode, salvation seemed to be at hand when eyes were found to be gazing upon a long metal contraption in the distance. Despite possessing curvatures, there were plenty of angles straightening things out to a fault; most of the materials were colored in crimson, matching the hat right upon the eyewitness’ head. Even out amongst the shine in the snowstorm, Eugene could see that a lot of care had went into the machine cosmetically, its external engine already breathing out black smoke against it all. There were a set of small lights on full display front and back at their symmetrical cornerings: the former was tinted in a shade more colorful; the latter was of a brighter color than its coating. All the looking glasses had been freed from the cold air latching onto the surface areas, even as the snowflakes had landed thereupon only to melt in an instant within mere seconds per particle. Smoke and steam were also found to be rising out of its tailpipes in an amalgamated fashion, dissipating about as the cold weather started to lose its frigidity from first contact all the while.
It didn’t take much for the white rat to realize that no one was inside the vehicle to begin with; this brought an air of suspicion into the fray as movement began to slow down surely enough.
Just when it’d seemed that the lonely eyewitness was about to stop dead cold in the last place, some harsh honking was soon being heard instantaneously invading both of the ears at once, snapping the listener back up toward reality as it was followed by a garbling masculine voice, “Eugene Benn…!”
“Huh, who is it; who’s there?!” the titular traveler tersely yelled as both eyes quickly darted to and fro once more in utter desperation for an answer; nevertheless, nothing happened because not a creature was bold enough to be stirring about, other than the viewer alone so to speak of, “come out there and show yourself already…!”
“Eugene Benn…!” the previous voice had spoken again, this time more clearly than ever before as the white rat soon panted about to little end.
The lonely listener couldn’t resist giving in to the notion of ruminating the current situation at large in regards to the time and place therein, taking the time to look at the electronic again, “okay, Eugene… it seems that the lady’s voice had said a shuttle is nearby but nobody’s even inside the darn thing at all. Could the driver be out on his lunch break already but if that’s the case, then what’s going on here; there’s so many questions about the whole thing that are very suspicious to a fault, even Javelin would’ve noticed this before: where are the others, who knows my name, how did this happen, what day is it, when did I get here, and why me?”
“Eugene Benn, your time has come…” the item in hand had spoken out to its eponymous owner almost immediately, more clearer compared to the other announcer, “please take the shuttle bus to Nasidia; afterwards, walk on by down to the corner of Prophecies’ Circle & Quarton Avenue: a subway station will be found resting between two restaurants – JoJo’s and Cousin Anakin…”
“Now, it tells me…” the white rat huffed about.
It didn’t take much for the lonely observer to approach the automobile in an instant, using what little strength which had remained within both legs to traverse the otherwise whiter environment. Ostensibly, Eugene didn’t have much to say about where the next destination would be since it’d been told earlier and even then there were still plenty of thing brewing about within the neurons. The white rat took yet another additional glance abaft of the metal contraption overall, this time directed at the pathway forged earlier now on the verge of being filled in with the same material. Anyways, the lonely eyewitness had no time whatsoever at all to reconsider any of the multiple possible choices past and future, or lack thereof in the present case, especially without options.
The doors in front of Eugene had quickly opened up, instantaneously presented by the warm and cozy interiors compared to the external surfaces. A steering wheel rested between the angled seat and stagnant gauges, vacant to a fault as with the rest of the large machine the white rat gotten in. Of course, its sole observer was fast to go find a seat out of many in the distance, the upholstery more thicker in composition to retain all the heat.
Just when it would seem that Eugene was ready to bask in the small world within the ice and snow, a loud hiss had entered both of the ears as the vehicle itself growled about with life and liberty alike; while this was happening, another feminine made a way in this time more stoic, “good afternoon and welcome to the Spatial Empire Transit Hubble, or SETH for short. This automated vehicle is provided for the security and convenience of all travelers, native and otherwise; please sit down and enjoy the ride. The time is 2:35 PM; current topside temperature is twenty–seven degrees Fahrenheit with an estimated high of thirty–two; this shuttle is maintained at a pleasant fifty degrees at all times. This shuttle is inbound from North Limb to Nasidia: if your intended destination is beyond the Hoovier Province, then it’s recommended to have a passport and photo ID ready; otherwise, report to your local department of automotive vehicles for processing before you’ll be permitted to do so. Although temperance is tolerated, the consumption of controlled substances such as tobacco, alcohol, and other compounds not prescribed by a trained medical profession or regulated by the government is not permitted within the Spatial Empire Transit Hubble; in addition, because of our utmost standards in cleanliness, any and all littering whatsoever is forbidden irregardless. Please keep your limbs inside the shuttle at all times; do not attempt to open the doors until the shuttle has come to a complete halt at the next station. In the event of an emergency, passengers are to remain seated and await further instructions: if it’s necessary to exit the shuttle, then disabled parties should be evacuated first; please avoid oncoming traffic and signal for help until assistance arrives. A reminder that the Summer Sun Celebration will commence next week in Ponyville at the crack of dawn: anyone wishing to attend is recommended to dress comfortably within the current climate whether arriving or departing the area; remember, your safety depends on it.”
“You gotta be shitting me: the Summer Sun Celebration here in Ponyville of all places with weather like this now?!” the white rat said silently under breath while watching the surroundings move on horizontally within the viewpoint, “either Princess Celestia has lost her mind or we’re dealing with windigoes still in Equestria, but if that’s the case, then where are they…?”
“A reminder to all operators – regular biochemical health screenings are a requirement of continued employment in SETH: missing a scheduled urinalysis and/or radiological check–up as well as detection of any and all illegal substances are grounds for immediate termination…” the announcer continued onward without notice whatsoever so to speak of.
The lonely listener couldn’t care in the slightest despite everything continuing on around, eyes becoming weary as the snowstorm still beat against the glass; before long, a yawn escaped into the warm open air as darkness and the like were entering the point of view, “wake me up when it’s all over…”
Eugene was fast asleep, nestled deeply into the clothes upon their owner’s back as the metal contraption kept moving against the driving blizzard all the same.
Time had passed on through space alongside with the inhabitants whom were drifting aimlessly as the stars amongst the never–ending blackness that had floated on, each of them to prompt any wayward traveler to harken back to the memories of life when the richest beverage kept their spirits up until their next destination and from the mouth of madness. Of course, time itself was the only thing that remained constant in the ever–changing plane of existence where many variables had come in all shapes and sizes, coexisting alongside either in unions or divisions thereof as they transcended boundaries without incident to say the very least; then again, almost all of them succumbed to the fold sooner or later. This interval, however, would prove to be a special case since that there were those who have found themselves still standing rather than stumbling and falling to the depths of their failures nevertheless; of course, not all of them were doing so as the whole wide world turned on its own axis: out of many of those in question, there was indeed only one.
“Now arriving Nasidia…” the same voice from before spoke up as the large machine started to slow down and wheeze in due time, “enjoy your stay, maybe forever, if you can…”
“Eh, what the…?” the white rat yawned as both eyes were reopened to find a darker landscape with buildings great and small coexisting whether on the same block or from across a street but the snow had still remained, more numerous than before much to the observer’s annoyance so to speak of.
Despite this, the solitary passenger had no other chose but to leave now that the journey had came to an end; for what it was worth, nothing much had changed on the inside when it’d came to the automobile in question overall.
Eugene discovered the utter lack of denizens whatsoever, something that which proved to be so unnerving to a fault even with the cold air returning to assault the integuments again, this time in full force as the juxtaposition between inside and outside became painfully obvious to a fault no less.
Although the white rat could see bright lights illuminating the way throughout the conurbation, their lack of diversity had made the ice and snow extremely unappealing as a result upon exiting; if the sudden awakening back in the middle of nowhere had left a chill crawling throughout the spine, then having to deal with a sudden change in time and place was bound to reinforce it all.
The orange hoodie buzzed about as its wearer reached back inside again to find the rectangular device’s screen reading, “walk out north until you can see the two restaurants in front of you; please hurry, you have twenty–five minutes…”
“Damn, that was a pain: first I wake up in the middle of nowhere and now I’m here in Nasidia still with no one to greet me…” Eugene grumbled as the electronic in hand now pointed upward for the viewer to see, sending both feet away from the bus, “not only that, I’m still out there in a blizzard with nothing but the clothes on my back and not even a clue as to what’s going on.”
“You’ll know soon enough…” a low hiss had entered the white rat’s ears, prompted the lonely listener to look around once more, only to find nothing at all whatsoever like before so to speak of.
The alert pedestrian exhaled warmly all the same, “just relax, I’m pretty sure that you’ll be able to find something to eat before you go riding the rails; besides, they said that the station is in between two restaurants, all on the corner of Prophecies’ Circle and Quarton Avenue, like the phone had said: I have my bits with me all saved up…”
“Don’t count on it, traitor…!” another whisper cut into the storm Eugene was still in, catching the observer off–guard once more with clarity, “everyone in this nation knows of what you’ve done…”
“Who said that; who’s there’s: are you from around here?!” the white rat had stammered as the face became warped with trepidation in due time.
A low voice showed no mercy or comfort as their hearer listened about, “you, Nausicaa, Iago, Hennessy – they played right into your hands; did you really think that you were all going to get away with what you’d done to them…? No… this was vengeance for them, the boys back in town: you gathered them all together in one place, just like they’d asked you to; all of those little souls in one place, just for them, the sisters. A gift; now, you can do what you were meant to do and be destroyed… You will make them proud, Eugene… watch, wait, and be strong… if you can…”
“What gift; what does this have to do with anything?!” the aforementioned traveler barked, fear now mixed in with fury as the visage became red hot like a chili pepper, “show yourself then and say it to my face already…!”
“That won’t be necessary: I’m sorry to interrupt you, Eugene, if you even deserve that name but I’m afraid that won’t be enough to save you from what you’d done; you weren’t sent here to receive a gift nor have you been called here by the individuals you’d assumed much earlier…” yet another feminine voice growled, more corporeal as the white rat still standing up straight.
In front of both eyes was an entity colored in cyan, beating still against the shine in the storm as life was full of warmth and fluidity within them. Although the short hair was bearing all the colors of the rainbow, a trio of horns were discovered to be poking through them in the upright curves. Generally speaking, the cyan bystander was in the altogether not a fabric upon the frostbitten skin to cover the small yet curvaceous formation. Of course, the ice and snow had no effect whatsoever, though Eugene was at a loss of words for the femininity presented on full display no less.
The white rat’s heart skipped a beat when it’d came to the cyan bystander starting slowly walking down the very same street at the opposite end, prompting the former to speak, “hey, miss, are you alright…?”
“Of course, I am; why wouldn’t I be…?” the other pedestrian laughed grimly, much to the tense traveler’s apprehension as the former continued without a care, “I’m not some nudist who picked a bad time to walk out into the cold, let alone a normal person; then again, you’re not a person either, at least not anymore…”
“What are you saying…?” Eugene had asked.
The cyan speaker paid no mind whatsoever as eyes of heliotrope took aim at the white rat, “it should be obvious: you’re here tonight because your crime of hostility towards both your neighbors and guests; I’m here because I couldn’t resist keeping my legs open to anyone willing to have a good time with me…”
“No way… where are the others?!” the trembling traveler barked even as the other pedestrian kept on going to the former all the while, “I have to know why us…!”
“It should be obvious because we’re not in Dodge anymore, much less our world; we’re in Tartarus with all the freaks, demons, and devils locked in here with people like us for all of eternity: me, a dirty whore, and you, a backstabbing prick…!” the cyan speaker sneered about defiantly all the way.
Eugene was now ready to back away in turn while choking out, “me, a backstabber?! But I’ve been loyal to my friends…!”
“Not all of them, though I believe what really pisses me off is what you’d done to those wishing to be your friends all the same…!” the other pedestrian hissed as lesions started to appear upon the integuments, matching the hair fluttering against the very winds, “it was one thing to wreak vengeance upon three thieves looking for candy but playing a trick on them had went too far. At home, we were people with lives and loved ones but here we’re nothing more than transgressors; what we see before each other was made every time our actions have hurt people: in your case, the white rat proved to be more fitting for a hostile and a bully such as yourself, you dirty motherfucker…!”
“Leave my mother out of this…!” the white rat screeched instantaneously, burning brighter than ever before again the blizzard.
Nevertheless, the cyan speaker chuckled, “she’d already left, both of them to be precise: one a drug addicted bitch who couldn’t put down the needle even when she was about to bring you into the world; the other a gold digging skank too heartbroken to live with the fact her husband’s son had destroyed a company by making a deal with three trailer park skanks…!”
“I’m warning you here: they have nothing to do with this…!” the tepid traveler barked with fury in the mouth as both feet were now moving on up into the target’s direction, “you better apologize…!”
“Or what, you’re gonna pound the shit of me like you did with those boys for the past fourteen years of your life…?” the cyan pedestrian scoffed.
This made Eugene freeze up inside before thinking silently, “how does she know all that; did everyone in Equestria learn this…?”
“I’ve read the stories and they ain’t pretty whatsoever: some high school jock gets mixed in with a bad crowd to deal with three troublemakers…” the other speaker laughed without a care in the whole wide world altogether as the white rat had gotten stuck in the former’s path all the while, “of course, this is news to me all the same. Even Cloudsdale had a slow newsday and Fluttershy got off pretty easily because of her good nature and high morals; of course, I couldn’t say the same for you or your friends, especially that brat Nausicaa of all people! I understood the fact that they wasted their friendships trying to scam you and your friends and neighbors out of their hard earned money so they can buy some jawbreakers but did any of you really think you were going to get away with the bullshit you four had concocted with those stupid sisters, inviting them to eat, drink, and be merry only to betray them?! You’re even worse than me and I had sex with every single Wonderbolt up and down the academy, even the women themselves; even Rarity would think your crazy after all the shit she would’ve read about your community and she’s here for attempted sororicide…!”
“Who the fuck are you?!” the taunted traveler talked.
It was at this point in time the cyan pedestrian was now up close and personal as far as Eugene could even see, the former laughing uproariously at the latter directly, “I’m just the decoy, scum…!”
Without warning, black bile was being shot out into the white rat’s face, covering both eyes in an instant as their owner had felt a sharp twinge in the heart; afterwards, a large needle was found to be dug into the chest cavity, filled with a clear liquid as it’d pierced the clothing in spite of everything.
It was at this point the tainted traveler felt all strength and stamina escaped from the body as the attacker in question was looking at the former with an odious smile upon the visage, forcing the organ to work overtime before it’d exploded in an instant as their owner collapsed onto the sleet and ice with little warning whatsoever.
Needless to say, it was all over for Eugene so to speak.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                          Solvent                          
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Author's Note
Ah, you've come to chapter fiver of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature fanfic no less on the grounds of heavy subject matters proven to be unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated; suffice to say, the second half will delve into these topics soon enough because the first one is still tame so far.
As always, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic belongs to me so I will say this line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.
Lastly, let me also say that I hope you enjoy this chapter now more than the others and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned for future chapters later; after New Year's, there will come a less straightforward update but I can assure you before the end of the next month, it'll all be complete as it should be
Solvent
There was sheer nothingness all throughout, bearing a simplistic form within its own world; as a matter of fact, it’d already demonstrated its capabilities by harboring the element of surprise by means of uncertainty therein. That being said, the cubic centimeters of this very transient ocean did little, if anything, to hide away the objects that would’ve been found even with the naked yet trained sort of eye bearing such abilities in so little time. The mere idea that something and/or someone dwelling within the jet–black void alone for any number of reasons known and otherwise was but time immemorial thereof; in this particular case alone, not even that can last.
Suddenly without warning, yet as if on cue, the erratic ringing of metal rapidly clanged against another resounded throughout the very darkness itself. As the echoes’ reverb quickly departed from the blackened ocean, so too did the uncertainty of nothingness alone; light filling the entire area instantly. Concrete made up the entire space, uniformed in structure and stricture hand in hand as they’d threatened to home in onto their own collective target. Here the source of illumination hung in the balance, inching away from the ceiling as electricity had unleashed its collection of photons all throughout. In the confines of the stony lonesomeness were some bedding, a desk, and seating as well as an amalgamation of a toilet and sink made with cold steel. Kneaded deep in the wall was a windowsill showing the outside world, already adorned by bars of tubular metal in a thick pattern simplistic to a fault. Opposite to the narrow prism were a much bigger set of steel with one anomaly being a small open rectangle larger than the rest of the open spaces.
Lain across the divan was a mass of flesh and fabric in the form of a man cloaked from top to bottom in orange latched onto his very body. So far, the lone individual’s hair was that of the midnight sky, not only throughout his scalp yet beneath the mouth matching both of the eyes. The man’s skin was lighter than the slabs of concrete by virtue of bearing more color, pinker as a primrose yet worn and withered by contrast. Although there was musculature within the inhabitant’s body, the frail and unfulfilled formation was being found in an instant all the while.
“Drayer, visitor…!” a harsh masculine voice had been heard, yet it didn’t even belong to the aforementioned listener within the very room.
Nevertheless, the man in orange had arisen to the call with but a tired huff escaping, “on it, sir…”
“Let’s go: strip down and pass your clothes through the food port…” the distant observer had shot back with restraint as Drayer started to pull up his shirt and reveal some of his tidy whitey underclothing, “anything sharp in there…?”
“No, not at all, sir…” the man in orange had answered as he was now down to his snow white ensemble completely.
Of course, Drayer understood clearly it wasn’t enough and began to cast them aside as the primordial voice spoke, “if I get cut, then I’m gonna have to hurt you…”
“Like fuck if you will…!” the inhabitant cerebrated as he was now in the altogether, all of his follicles standing on endwise as they were exposed to the cold air instantaneously, “you already done enough to me for the past seventeen years; the least you could do is send me with them as I’d thought before…”
It wasn’t long until Drayer watched the door afore himself open up, standing in the presence of another figure proven to be the true owner of the first voice. The inhabitant was able to make a discovery that he and the other individual in question shared but one commonality: the same gender therein alone no less. Of course, the very twosome already present and accounted for had possessed many considerable differences separating one another almost instantaneously.
The figure in question whom had just arrived to see Drayer stood up to him at a similar height range, but with some more density in the former. Unlike the inhabitant’s hair which was still clean and dark, the onlooker happened to possess thin tresses of red crawling about with light textures. Eyes belonging to the bulkier counterpart just so happened to be a hierophant green focusing in onto Drayer with a mixture of pity and contempt. Simply put, the observant overseer had donned a darker complexion, one that was reminiscent of some fresh topsoil capable of providing life to all. Dressed from head–to–toe were but a jet–black ensemble consisting of a headgear, jacket, pants and shoes covering up the heavier man already. Additional objects were found to be adorning their owner’s clothing as well; out of the many was a luminous badge upon much of the very chest. Yoking raiment was being passed out by the bare inhabitant carefully so as to appease the man in uniform up in front even at the former’s expense.
“Run your fingers through your hair…” the observant overseer had snorted, prompting Drayer to go and rake his left hand over his tresses gently.
In that brief moment, the nude man ruminated about as his hair was being stretched out thinly, “it’s been a few years since I’d ended up in this fuckhole: I’d figured that by taking the fall, the least they could do was leave them be; after all, they’d both suffered because of me and all throughout those fourteen years we’d spent together…”
“Open your mouth…” the man in uniform had ordered, watching Drayer heed those words without so much as a care in the whole wide world, “lift up your tongue, roll it side–to–side; run your finger along your gum line…”
“Might as well be brushing my teeth if Rian’s gonna put me through this: he’s worse than what my mom was and is, yet I miss her all the very same; it’s bad enough I still see her breaking down in front of me now and then whenever we visit ever since that damn day in court no less…” the bare listener had silently thought to himself, watching the observer with a grimace.
The man in uniform continued to give Drayer more commands to follow, “show me behind left ear… now your right; show me your pits, arms up. Lift your nut sack, lift your dick. Turn around. Lift your right foot; wiggle your toes. Move your left foot; wiggle your toes. Listen carefully: I want you to squat three times; on the third squat––– Stop, stop stop…!”
“What’s wrong with him now: I did what he’d asked; why now?!” the nude man had cerebrated indignantly as his face was also contorted into a grimace but not at the windowsill per se even though it couldn’t do the same right back either by virtue of being completely inorganic, “is there a problem, sir…?”
“Just squat three times; listen to my voice: on the third squat, I want you to spread your cheeks and cough… go…!” the observant overseer snapped slightly as Drayer bent both knees slowly, stopping in place to clasp onto both cheekbones and spread them apart for the former to see in real–time all the same.
As the bared inhabitant let out a loud cough, the man in uniform pulled out a jet–black tube and turned the lens around to emit a white beam of light directly aimed at the fundament up in front; after investigating the crevice within as well as its owner’s prepuce hanging in the balance from there, the former said to the latter almost instantaneously, “okay, can we please go now, sir?!”
“Just get dressed already; let’s go…” the observant overseer had replied with such restrained resentment, returning the raiment back to Drayer in a matter of seconds whom sheltered himself back from the cold again; it didn’t take long for the latter to go back to the beginning, not that he’d any motivation to prolong the emotions and lack thereof, “come on, face the wall…”
“Okay, I’m just buttoning it…” the man in orange had grumbled softly while fixing up his shirt, carefully pushing his very hands towards the open quadrangle afterwards as some thin hard metal had circled around the wrists with little warning whatsoever.
Upon hearing two clicks immediately, Drayer could also listen to the man in black sound off, “step away… crack thirteen…! Back up… close thirteen…!”
“Another day gone, another bit lost…” the man in orange had ruminated as he was being led outside of his domain, looking around to see the identities and lack thereof in a mere matter of seconds all the same no less, “I guess they’re still happy now: they wanted me out of their lives for good and all I had to do was sacrifice myself as soon as these bastards came for us three…”
Both men in different uniforms remained aware of the static architecture they were traversing in, an amalgamation of concrete and steel composed the near entirety of their shared environment: the former setting up the solidified walls and the foundation on finite multidimensional planes whilst the latter had served as walkways above ground and barriers to keep all tenants in and out. Although generally quiet to a fault, Drayer’s heartbeat went against its very internal confines, reverberating through his entire body including the very extremities attached to his own limbs; this was of a cold comfort for him as a brief of orchestra of steel was heard above, the banging surreptitiously against itself within the cold distance was lacking in a proper translation thereof. None of this paled in comparison to the fact there were others like the man in orange, a few of whom wearing hotter shades than that itself whether in part or in full, many staying out view as both pedestrians within the open space were still avoiding the sequestered majority thereof even as at least one onlooker hissed out some words barely above a careless whisper filled of toxicity. Even with the lights on display, whether from the outside world or of the ones embedded within the domain, darkness prevailed as a result of the choices made and unmade by its inhabitants, not that anyone and everyone were willing to take note of given what had been already shown so far, something Drayer and his escorting counterpart could relate to despite their differences overall.
Nevertheless, they’d both walked onto the flooring away from the confines where that particular man in orange had resided in all the same. The sights and sounds of footfalls from themselves created a pattern in which would be easily observed, only to be broken at a few times. Drayer stared at the white shoes on both feet where they’d rested upon the concrete underneath as they both traveled onward throughout. The man in black still kept his orange correspondent in close range despite showing no emotion whatsoever, focusing on the task at hand.
Within only minutes, the otherwise strenuous pattern had now met its end, overtaken by a vastly new area the twosome just walked into. Filling the wider space were but a long yet finite row of desks where its occupants sat up, all of whom wore the same colors as Drayer. The background they were residing was also painted in in a brighter color, off–white as the lights above as afore but still sterile to a fault. Although there were windows present and accounted for, rather than showing civilization, they’d been capable of showing its own people. More personnel in the same jet–black scheme were found within the vicinity, standing abaft of their colorful counterpart all vigilantly. Even the very flooring now had gained texture and color: smooth white tiles with the occasional sprinkled colors reminiscent of ceramic.
“Booth twenty…” the observant overseer directed as his blood orange counterpart walked behind the others without any hesitation, keeping the distance away from the latter’s peers whilst quietly counting the windowsills within view as people’s faces were being implanted all throughout the way.
At long last, Drayer had found himself standing up in front the individual opposite of the looking glass with a face contorted out of the straight and narrow. Like the very man in orange, his visitor was not only of the same gender as the former, they were more alike than anyone had even bothered to take note of. Despite their similarities, there were differences between Drayer and the other man, especially considering the latter was much taller and hairier as well. Even more so, the lonely visitor had on a much elaborate attire compared to the men in orange, something that the former could relate to regarding others. Resting about upon the taller individual’s visage was face framed in the shadows by a brown cap and white sunglasses, doing most to obscure emotions.
It didn’t take much for Drayer to pick up the phone nearby and speak into it almost immediately, “you have some nerve coming all the way over here now…”
“Don’t be like that, brother; your friends weren’t the only ones that vouched for you all the same: I know their ankle–biting neighbors…” the opposite visitor replied in turn, holding the same device in hand as his voice was more gruff and restrained by mere comparison, “gramps had been nearly broken by the fact he was about to lose both of us to whatever choices we’d made.”
“Don’t bring him into this mess, Tee: as far as I see it, I don’t even deserve to be anywhere near him considering what I’d done throughout the years, especially since you’d walked out on us; besides, I’d been doing fine by myself lately, even without Lumpy or Sniffles by my side…!” his brother in orange had spat out with indignation.
It didn’t take much for the titular talker to speak, “I can see that; I just want to know: why all this…?”
“Wow, for someone I’d used to look up to when I was a little boy, you’d seemed to be more of a slacker than I ever was back then…” Drayer laughed derisively at Tee, despite being devoid of mirth or any other emotion whatsoever, save for some exasperation alone, “I’d figured after everything I’d said and done, the least you could’ve done was remember it all, but I was wrong. I can remember all the choices I’d made since I was stuck as a little midget even as an adult, all for the sake of being just like you: everything that I’d done, it was so I could get a lot of things – fame, money, friends, something that you can relate to already; even as a baby, you couldn’t resist making me suffer just to get a laugh out of yourself, especially with them out of sight. Even before we were all completed, all that I could think about was being a big success like you and dad were, like it’d all made sense; after all, he’d sold used cars to rich city folks like the ones in Manehattan and you had so many talents you were like her offspring: bricklaying, bouzouki, trapping, you'd even helped him out with fixing up broken ass cars so no one would notice them.”
“That was then, this is now, lil bro: nobody’s buying cars from our dad anymore ever since that court case years ago; as a matter of fact, he’d closed it all down because of people vandalizing the junkers up and down the car lot in the passing months…” the tall visitor had said to his own brother with bated breath, still unfazed by the latter’s answer all the same so to speak of no less.
This was of no concern for the likes of Drayer himself whom continued onward, “that’s too bad… I’d really liked that dealership and all these cars he had there: Beatrices, Bernkastels, and even a Lambdadelta; they were super rare imports…”
“And now they’re gone: pops sold them away so he wouldn’t retire bankrupt; of course, we’d understood why it’d been done…” Tee had said dismayed, taking in another deep breath before looking away from his shorter sibling for at the very least a solid minute, “anyway, what’s up with you….?”
“Same old shit as always: under lock and key most of the day, have letters from two friends, showering alone with my thoughts and dreams; despite everything, all’s well that ends well…” Drayer replied, mirthlessly laughing once again.
Despite everything, the taller visitor held firm and said to the man in orange, “look, I know about what that dame Twilight’s been doing lately ‘cause of your friends; I also know why you’ve been staying here for the past few years and counting despite the progress…”
“You don’t have any fucking right whatsoever to claim that you know anything about me since you’d left this household earlier…!” Drayer had interjected with little warning whatsoever, catching those nearby themselves off–guard despite speaking ever so quietly, “last time I’d gotten anything from you, it was full of baby shit: diapers, pacifier, rattle – the whole nine yards! I knew far too well what it was like to be in your shadow and not just literally as far as you were ever concerned here, brother: even before that faggot fuck Iago came along into the world, I had to rely on you for support when people like Eugene came by; though you’d done well as my sword and shield all the same, you grew tired of me latching onto your knee at a young age. You’d said to mommy and daddy you’d wanted to move onto better and brighter things than our home, something I’d once related to: even without this bullshit murder case, I’d have seen well enough that you’d done fine without the rest of us dragging you down; I wonder what it’s like to be all alone with whatever the fuck it is you’ve been doing with your life without them or me…”
“Bro, please…!” Tee had pleaded yet to no avail.
His brother in orange persisted all the same, “I was a goddamned fool to look up to you, let alone emulate you: once upon a time, all that I had to do was give mom a nice school picture and they would give me the key to your room and I couldn’t even do that simple thing right; now, I’m in here but the only thing I had to do wasn’t to get you entangled in all this. Even without you, I’ve been carving a path of destruction for myself without even realizing before it was all too late; I’d picked up your vices and habits like a duck to muddy water despite having a few friends around: porno mags, get–rick–quick schemes, and the aggressive inlines and outlines of how to command respect. Fuck, before these trailer park girls came along seven years ago, all that we’d done together was to get these jawbreakers but first there was the matter of money; even a brat like myself knew money was what made the world go roundabout as long as people said yes: Bits, Plats, Grams, Quan, Gan, Razzles, even Heusos and Hwan. Of course, the fact that I’d almost ended up in jail for that meteorite scheme never occurred to me with my pen pal Red: to think that one Wryly Hwan is almost worthless compared to Our Majesties’ Bits is rather appalling as far as I’d seen it, especially compared to how I’d gotten kicked out of the store for. What’s funny about it was the fact that had I found out where to exchange them the first time, I would’ve been on easy street; of course, the fact that our parents caught whiff of my money meant I wasn’t allowed to keep any of it all in a bank account: saying things like the importance of money is about honest living and not misusing the customers’ willingness to buy anything. It doesn’t matter anymore, at least not to me; even without you, I knew for a fact I couldn’t go a single day I’d gotten laughed at without thinking about seeing your face plastered over them: oh how they couldn’t even fathom how guys like us are even related is a mystery not even her precious pupil could dare to figure out, not that I’d let her. Out of all the fourteen years we three had spent together as the bestest of friends, the last third thereof was complete and utter Tartarus: I couldn’t even find the strength to tell my own parents what had been done to us by these sorry excuses for would–be friends and neighbors, even on days when we weren’t out to swindle them, not that I blamed them for the most part. The fact that I’d betrayed my only friends by letting those witches fuck me made me ashamed of how much power I’d gave them: three whores whom had no problem whatsoever in ransacking the neighborhood when their own precious heirloom was stolen; of course, what’s a scrawny little pipsqueak like me could ever do when they could outrun, find, and beat us into the ground. No amount of money I made was ever going to be kept in my possession any longer, even if I’d given a fuck about honor and integrity: it means nothing without respect or power, especially if midgets like me couldn’t keep it together with Lummox and Doubles to help me along; besides, I no longer have any connection to such desires anymore, not after what had been done to me.”
“I wish I’d not heard all of that, bro; I’m sorry… I’m sorry for being an asshole to you when I was here…” the taller visitor choked out, his sunglasses sliding off to reveal darker eyes offset by red outlines upon the skin pulsating about, “there I said it, in person no less; I figured the postcard would’ve been enough, but I was wrong…”
“What did you honestly expect was going to happen, Tee, that years after your baby brother was sentenced to die would be a good time to reconcile, catch up on the past for old times’ sake like tomorrow is just a word repeated thrice in the same sentence of Sir Shunspike’s soliloquies…?” Drayer snorted about to his eponymous kinfolk with but a huff and puff from the former no less.
Despite everything, the tall visitor struggled to speak, “what more do you want from me: what more do you want to me to say; what more is there to do for you…?”
“As far as I see it, you were more better off as a ghost to me as they were best off as hellspawn to the likes of the entire avenue we’d lived on; your coming to face me now doesn’t matter at all anymore than it ever should, so the least you can do is go back to being what you’re best at: go home…” the man in orange spat out before standing back up again, prompting the others to see.
As Drayer was instantaneously accompanied by the men in black, Tee reached out for the former only to get no reply whatsoever as they were shuffled onward out of the latter’s line of sight; this was of no concern at all for anyone else on opposite sides of the glass, not even the others in the same colorful uniform could muster the strength or will to intervene all the same.
With the clicks and turns being heard, a loud slam came next as the tall visitor’s ears were being assaulted immediately so to speak of; afterwards, he was calmly shaking his head trying to make sense of what had happened, especially in regards to his brother’s departure: of the things to be made known, the former had nothing else more to say or do, save for a mere mutter, “damn…”

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                         Bankrupt                          
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Author's Note
Hi there; it's me, Fireflower here once more with an electric feel ready with a new chapter of this here story on the way: suffice to say, the future chapters in the second half will be by far a strong note for y'all; this half having already served as a taste of what had came before as I wrote them all right at my fingertips.
As usual, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to --- you know what? F:heart: https://static.fimfiction.net/images/emoticons/heart.pngk it; you've made it this far so there's no use in me repeating what I'd said before in the disclaimers, especially after what y'all just gone and went through.
That being said, I want to say thanks again for putting up with my story since last month so far, especially if you been reading the prequels as well since years ago: I honestly wished that I could've done this sooner, let alone finish it; what's funny is that had I done so in half the allotted time, I would've surprised y'all with another story on the same month, albeit on New Years' Eve but I digress.
Bankrupt
All throughout the way, there was an abysmal unknown of complete blackness where only such factors of sight, substance, and scent lay buried inside those obscurities best referred to as a void. The exceptions that had given clues to the very location’s identity were surface, sensitivity, and sound: such were the gentle breezes being close to comfort anyone that would cross their paths. Most importantly, the current occupancy was above from simple desolate, let alone abandoned; after all, there were a few colors in many caliginous shades and hues giving off their silent cries.
Then, without any kind of warning whatsoever, some buzzing had given birth to the baseless boundaries, resonating about amongst the atmosphere before subsiding almost instantaneously. As if on cue, a small lightbulb had started to appear from above, already providing illumination to the very background in an instant as it’d remained suspended thereupon all the live long day. Everywhere it’d have went, the most predominate color discovered were but fifty shades of gray resting about with no signs of anomalous materials standing out and about for anyone to go see. While there were plenty of sterility to and from, there were plenty of cracks and creases reeking about with more lights now shining about in every range of the spectrum so far in a strict pattern. Some items were already found sharing the same ceiling as the very source of brightness thereof: a small spherical dome embedded on one corner and a monitor hanging from the opposite sides.
Stuck in the middle of it all was a lonely man standing between both a hard wall and glass panel, held in place by a series of jet–black straps altogether. His skin had been tickled pink with some small freckles on the right side of his forehead, already riddled with cuts and bruises having made their ways. Inclined about were three stalks of midnight hair too thin to be seen by the naked eye, eddying up from its shared flat surface amongst the bald space. The lonely man’s attire consisted of a yellow shirt with plum hems and a red downward stripe matching his shoes as well as blue pants with a chain.
“Oh, my aching back…” he’d cried as his eyes slowly opened up, all lids already dipped in violet as both irises were soon revealed to be matching the only hair still attached to the scalp despite everything.
What had started out as a strenuous reflex metamorphosed in a heavy tremor under pressure, born from a small shock as the lonely man had surveyed his sleek surroundings instantaneously: even though he was all by his lonesome, it’d been made apparent that whatever comforts which had remained with him were suddenly quickly undermined by the factors therein so to speak of.
It wasn’t long until his attention was affixed to the screen on the account of it whirring to life, chasing away the stagnant darkness as a wave of static mesh hadst entered his field of vision. Soon enough, it’d plastered with another lonely figure peering out at where the lonely man still resided about; unlike the latter, nothing much could be said about the former due to the shadows. Nevertheless, the corporeal inhabitant could see a patch of pale white amongst the darkness and with a singular brighter eye peering out at the former, electrifying about to little end in sight.
It wasn’t long until the viewer’s face had begun speaking to the man in yellow, “greetings and salutations, Beamer…”
“What the… what the fuck is this: who are you and where am I; when did I get here?!” the titular tenant had blurted out and about in an instant, shaking to and fro but to no avail whatsoever, “did someone put you up to this?! Answer me, dammit…!”
“All will be revealed in due time, little one: besides, my name is not important nor is my identity so to speak of; what is important, however, is the sad drag of a story that happens to be your life, past and present overall, something which many can and will relate to all the same like before…” the man onscreen buzzed about with a faint hum.
This had brought Beamer nothing but contempt as he’d shrieked about in the viewer’s direction, “since when the fuck do you know anything about my life; are you one of the princesses’ spies or something sent to investigate me?!”
“Apparently more than you were willing to remember and let anyone in on, not because we’re investigators or any under either sister’s command…” the blue eyed speaker had answered calmly, much to the chagrin of the man in yellow as far as it could’ve been seen, “besides, your secrets are far too hard to keep when everyone else can see it from so far away from home. In the past two decades of your life so far, you’d eaten the same food, dress the same clothes, and sat in front of the same kind of films: you were just that kind of guy but then one day you’d gone and lost yourself in the chaos; you couldn’t even be original about the route you’d taken but it’s okay all the same because nobody complained about what would happen next since then. Of course, there was still the matter of what you’d said and done nonetheless, especially given your past history of transgressions: lust, greed, gluttony, wrath, sloth, envy, and pride – every sin you had committed ever since your birth was all on file for many to see; of course, there were others that were even worse than the seven such as heresy, violence, deception, and treachery. Although there was a plan for you to abandon your wicked ways, this didn’t come to pass as a result of the war seven years ago: even though there was reason enough that you weren’t from the same plane as the others, your fate would’ve been all the same; of course, in spite of that lone factor, you’d taken every opportunity to continue that path all the way to your imprisonment. Speaking of which, this prison your in is different from all the others you’ve been aware of, even from that of Equestria itself; although it has been designed to hold you in like a common criminal, at the same time it also serves a different purpose too: what you’re standing in is a testing ground for all the games you and your kind get to play in before the others have to. Another factor in regards to your situation were the extenuating circumstances based on the choices you’d made in the process: for all the crimes you’d committed, it’d seem your otherwise shaky bond with your friends was at the risk of being severed at once; acting accordingly, you’d resolved to make certain only you would take responsibility for their actions as well as yours. Even with that noble gesture in mind, none of your friends had remained unscathed by the efforts of both town and country alike: one sent back home to the tender mercies of his forsaking family and the other locked in prison like some commonplace refuse; as bad as the verdict had gone, it’d have seemed had your neighbors failed to intervene at all, then you’d all not be here in the flesh. Nevertheless, everything that had happen is now in the past, not as memories but forces at your back pushing and steering about; you may not like where it’d led you to, but much like any other story, it needs resolution, an epilogue as well as a denouement: of course, in your case, it’s in need of a détournement, especially considering what had been done to you all the very same. As such, you’re to–––”
“I’m sorry but even I think this word salad is faggy; you’re even worse than that little bastard, Iago…!” Beamer barked out with blatant disregard.
The viewer was unnerved by the man in yellow’s interjection, retaining the decency to continue, “quite the contrary, dear Beamer: unlike him, I refuse to let you fall victim to the machinations of those willing to break the bonds of hospitality; after all, it seems to me that even Princess Luna herself has no patience for his kind, especially if they were more older by a sheer decade. Of course, it always goes back to the beginning with you and them alone, an ouroboros in and of itself, if there ever were just one: once upon a time, you and friends had been touched by the generosity of these new arrivals only to exploit them all in little time; as a result of these little mistakes, you’d became their primary targets alone with your other neighbors as alternatives. Despite their mutual antagonism, your friendship held firm and survived for another four years in addition to the preceding decade: even with the combined forces of the sisters and your peers, the bonds shared between yourself and the other two still remained; of course, all that had changed when in a stroke of fate, you three found yourselves at the tender mercies of that fiend Eugene.”
“Eugene… just how much do you know about our lives; who the fuck are you: Agency or Bureau?!” the eponymous occupant interrupted once more, this time being more redder in the face than before as far as he can see, “it’s bad enough that I took the heat for murdering these cunts, now I have to deal with these damn dirty interlopers like you?!”
“That’s just it: despite your confession, you are not the murderer; even with your long history of delinquency in and out of school, your hands haven’t being stained with their blood at all in the very least, a lie you’ve parroted for quite some time…” the blue eyed speaker chuckled, shaking the man in yellow’s rage stone cold dead in its tracks with little warning whatsoever.
This had caused all of Beamer’s hairs to begin standing on endwise including the ones curling above, causing him to gulp as he’d struggled to speak out, “what… you’re kidding, right; you’ve heard the news: ‘Triple Murderer Nearing Termination’, remember…?”
“Except, that’s not what had happened at all: contrary to what even the public had believed, the real killer still remained at large…” the solitary viewer had responded with a faint lisp, leaving the man in yellow enthralled by the former’s introspective, “while many were right to believe one of you was responsible for their death, you’d never used the weapon against them at all. Between the scheming and plotting about, the idea of you taking a life was out of the question in spite of everything happening: after all, you were just merely kids whom had no concept of what it was like to lose a life, let alone watch someone perish; nevertheless, it was only just a mere matter of time before it came to pass, especially as far as your friends were concerned no less. The one thing neither you or Beames had considered was how easy it was for Javelin to take the lives of all three grown women; of course, even a gentlemen such as myself would begin to understand everything led up to this pivotal moment in all your lives: even without concepts like chivalry, they were far too strong to be dissuaded by things such as morality or money either. Such was life in the suburbs of Peachtree Acres, a home sweet home to crimes so heinous, the Crown almost destroyed them all: at the very least, it’d have served as a fitting punishment for all of the travesties in which you and your own neighbors had committed; of course, the quality of mercy itself still prevailed, having saved you from an undeserved fate many wished on you.”
“I see now, you’d worked with one of these princesses as their right–hand man: I see that little miss Kaye has gotten through to either and spurned them into being kind and fair; the real question, however, is why now…?” Beamer had laughed uproariously at first before contorting his face back into that of a scowl like before.
It didn’t take long for the blue eyed speaker to answer calmly, “perhaps, it’d be best if I’d shown you rather than just tell you as it is; after all, time is short and my employers would rather get this experiment up and running as is: it’s imperative that they get you out of your room now since you’ve waited long enough…”
“Like fuck they will: since when was he working for any of the goons, let alone them; what does this have anything to do with me?” the man in yellow ruminated as he’d watched the jet–black straps over him come undone and the glass panel sliding right downward, “what fucking experiment you’re talking about; why me off all people?!”
“Drayer Beamer…!” yet another masculine voice escaped into the sterile room, belonging to neither the viewer onscreen or the aforementioned inhabitant as it’d bore a deeper and firmer tone by sheer comparison alone.
It didn’t take long for the man in yellow to watch the door up in front of him to open up, sliding out of place to the left with a cold hiss as another corporeal figure appeared amidst the smoke. Unlike either individual, this bystander was imposing to a fault, especially considering the attire in question happened to be a beige suit of amalgamated plastics and foams all woven altogether. Despite having a visor directed towards Beamer alone, its wearer’s eyes weren’t even seen at all; nevertheless, the former felt all of his rigidness collapse into trepidation thanks to the sweating.
Despite shaking intensely, the man in yellow retained the strength to reply, “that’s my name… don’t wear it… out…”
“Step outside the room; you’re wanted in the test chamber…” the armored observer had simply commanded, a pair of feet belonging to Beamer alone now being pulled towards the former with little restraint therein, “today’s the big day, Drayer: I hope for your sake that you’re ready; either way, may Providence have mercy on your soul…”
“Excuse me…?” the man in yellow had peeped.
Beamer suddenly felt his left wrist constricted by a wayward hand before being pulled out of the whitish area, confronted by a series of flashing lights in various colors currently shining brightly about against the darkness. Wrapped around the man in yellow’s line of eyesight were images lighting up the walls as they’d slid throughout the constrained surface areas, each of them having varied in sizes, shapes, styles, and substances altogether. Multitudes of tiles were radiating with the same spectrum Beamer had seen earlier, this time into smaller cracks on the account of being more innumerable in size and shape yet most definitely finite all the same no less. Generally speaking, whatever hope for freedom the man in yellow had been yearning for since awakening to clarity seemed further out of his reach as well as the world he’d just found himself inside of not too long ago.
Whatever words Beamer felt like should’ve escape his own mouth had been denied by the curtly quickness of the draw from his nearby accompaniment instantaneously, “don’t at so surprised about it all, Drayer: you’d seen one moving image across the walls, you’ve seen them all; of course, seeing that you’ve yet to see the whole world and the seven seas, perhaps I’m so untrue.”
“Now that I think about it, where are we exactly…?” the man in yellow asked as he’d quickly surveyed the environment the twosome was currently inside of, “this must be something straight out of Lummox’s comic books he’d been reading back then…”
“That’s classified; besides, your friends read one too many of them, especially considering who’s writing them and what income they’ve raked in…” the armored observer had answered gruffly, snapping Beamer right out of his sprouting speculations with but little care overall so to speak of.
It didn’t take much for the man in yellow to refocus his energy right onto one particular image: his face was found to be plastered onto a monochromatic frame with its equilateral lines in range; additionally, the subject in question was in a uniform lacking in variety and divergence at once, “it looks like me… no, it is ME…! I REMEMBER NOW: IT WAS LIKE THREE YEARS AGO I’D ENDED UP IN THESE CLOTHES; I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!!”
“And yet you are not: alive in every sense but sociably, something many of societies’ refuse can relate to; of course, you’re different…” the ethereal voice from before cut in, unnerving Beamer in his very entirety but not the nearby accompaniment as they’d both stopped, “though you were spared from the death penalty, your recent brush with the law had convinced you to stay inside. In any case, perhaps this experiment would pique your interests higher than it is currently, especially considering your tastes; after all, it’d taken us far less time to carefully construct and test it out compared to that failure of a writer still stuck in November: in any case, since we’re about to be reaching the third quarter, it’d be rather best that we show it to you in its entirety…”
“Show me what, the fact that I was supposed to be six feet under; why all this then?!” the man in yellow exclaimed with indignation frothing about.
Nothing could prepare the likes of Beamer with what ended up being revealed to himself from beyond another opening before themselves, this time being more thinner than what he’d been presented with earlier. The moment they’d now entered the new area, the man in yellow was soon being instantaneously bombarded with the sights and sounds of bright lights and big crowds respectively, sharing the very same variations. Similarities between Beamer’s confines and the corridor thereof were far and few in comparison, especially considering how a majority of it all was composed of concrete and steel setting up the borders all throughout. Centered directly into the middle was an open circle with an unfinished bridge to nowhere bolted down from the edge, lying adjacently from a long rope dangling about from high above to parts unknown all the same.
The man in yellow had glanced at the clamorous audience, each member all radiating about with strong emotions as they were restrained by the earthen barriers separating the majority from one; soon, more screens turned on, hanging from the railings beneath the smooth ceiling as the blue eyed speaker had reappeared chirping, “what’s the number one game show in the whole world?!”
“What game show; what the fuck is this mess: what’s with all the people…?” Beamer thought to himself as cheers and jeers escaped into his ears in multitudes of pitches and volumes, “I don’t understand it at all…”
“L’IMPRESARIO…!” the spectators answered uproariously, much to the discomfort of the man in yellow whom had found himself isolated and alone like before, this time with more eyes on him than ever as their noises grew in volume.
Joining the off–key chorus were a series of words accompanied by brass and strings with the resounding snares to boot, starting off bombastic yet ominous (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owL5NjgldNo&t=28s):
LOOK INTO THE SINS OF THE YOUR PAST!  
LOVE AS IF TODAY WERE YOUR LAST!
“Better times have slipped away, they’re lost beneath the waves…” yet another male voice had spoken up, this time being more somber and pacifistic as the notes sounded off in sync from both keyboards and strings alike instead, “nothing left to save…”
“SAVAGE CRIMES…!” the first ensemble sang in the same composition as previously, all while pictures of coins, candies, and women flashed across the screen, “IT WAS NOT YET THEIR TIME FOR WHOM THE TOWER PEALS ONE FINAL MOURNING CHIME, FOR THE SURVIVORS…!”
“Prisoner #13D108, Drayer Beamer… YEAH, BOY: 17 years old tried as an adult, convicted January 12, 2013 – three counts, murder in the first degree; fleeing the scene of the crime; usage of firearm in commission of felony; violation of Firearms Act ‘65; attempted assault with a deadly weapon…!” even another voice had bellowed from the speakers in a taunting guffaw.
This left the titular onlooker in shock as he’d watched the same portrait from before reappearing onscreen, this time in color given that the very uniform in question was colored in orange for himself to see clearly about more than ever, a contrast to the whitened visage as it was accompanied by a feeble gulp, “shit…!”
“YOU SICK BASTARD…!” another man shrieked at the primordial listener’s ears, preceded by a carton of fluid being chucked at the latter and landing square on the face; despite being blinded, the former was seen to be a bespectacled brunet with brighter skin and bluer eyes having worn a white shirt and some beige khakis, “I HOPE YOU BURN FOR THIS SHIT, FUCKHEAD…!”
“What the fuck is this… milk?!” Beamer spat out as he’d found his face flushed with an opaque liquid brown like chocolate yet rancid with taste and scent alike from what could be experienced firsthand.
The fury emanating from the man in yellow was no better than a firecracker shot underwater as far as the crowds were concerned, still hissing and hollering about as purple haze sprayed onto him without any kind of warning whatsoever, all while the music had abruptly segued into a percussive flourish of triumph.
As Beamer coughed up quite a storm, he was unaware of the reality his very attire was no more: in its place was only a spandex jumpsuit that was predominately silver with some scarlet accents; despite this, his red shoes had remained, much to his confusion and fury as he’d instantly yelled, “WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CLOTHES?!”
“Now, Drayer Beamer could’ve stayed in prison and paid the penalty with his life, like his judge would’ve wanted several years ago…” the raven haired man announced from one of the screens, revealing himself to be the very same one from not too long ago, “of course, the fact that his case went against protocol has revealed to us how easy justice and peace can be sold out for revenge. Even in the fair lands of Equestria itself, its populace wallows in their own folly, forsaking their promises and virtues alike as fabric; thankfully, the Crown still believes that salvation can be achieved, entrusting the power to its Town and Country’s next generation: this world and its people must change its ways for the better no matter what, even if it means making sacrifices. To our knowledge so far, your laundry list of transgressions up until this very pivotal moment has destroyed lives beyond repair: even with your confessions and admissions, your friends and family as well as theirs have been caught in the crossfire altogether; additionally, your neighbors, including the ones you and your friends have been victimized by, risked ostracism in the process. With this and further evidence of unsolved cases exposed to the open world for the rest to see and hear alike, your precious hometown became cut off from not only the rest of New Ponyland itself but all of Equestria too, socially speaking of course, not completely cut off economically since this would’ve had devastating consequences for many innocents in and out of their no less. Of course, it didn’t stop you from being their scapegoat like before, especially considering your reputation as a swindler no less; after all, you were quite the troublemaker in and out of school as far as everyone else was being concerned, especially the faculty: forgery, truancy, shoplifting, soliciting, loitering, menacing, fraud, disturbing the peace and whatnot – need we say more…? Realistically speaking, you would’ve been expelled from all the schools in the entire province before reaching to age eighteen: by then, you’re parents would’ve gone to every single end of the world to ensure you’d get any kind of education like it or not; nevertheless, this prolonged struggle would’ve led to both of their offspring onto a dark path their rearing couldn’t vacate. Knowledge itself still remains in this very day and age to be seen as a power in unto its own and with it comes great responsibility: when used for all that is good and positive within the world, its lifeforms will prosper and prevail with truth and freedom into range; on the other hand, when it’s squandered into nothingness, the world’s brought further closer onto the edges of oblivion. Such is the life and times of nobody else but yourself, Drayer Beamer, having forsaken books for the streets only to be abandoned: ever since that fateful day, you’d found yourself comfortable with the rather imminent fate of the inevitable all the while no less; perhaps, this experiment will give you the opportunity you’d been waiting for the day the court had sentenced you to die…!”
“Just get on with it, will ya; do I look like I have all day?!” the unitard clad man had yelled once more, this time getting even further frustrated.
A series of derisive tongue in cheek clicking about resonated from the blue eyed announcer within seconds, followed by some laughter, “Beamer, I know you’re just dying to get into action and go the way of all flesh but first I’ve got a little surprise for you: we all know you like to talk big but that doesn’t mean you’re a loner so it takes a really big man to admit he needs friends. Unlike this sorry excuse of your province’s court system, we had no intention of breaking up a winning, or losing in your case, team so here they are, ready to go for broke right by your side; ladies and gentlemen, Beamer’s buddies: Mariner Beames and Beam Javelin…!”
It didn’t take long for the eponymous bystander to have his skin become white again, this time to the point of rivaling the texture of snow itself as a pair of men were being lowered down afore him; although they were currently dressed in similar attire, they’d possessed their own fair share of differences in between themselves all the same. One of them was lanky bearing integuments of yellow with freckles just like Beamer, except in a royal purple and an orange range of thin hair contrasted by a thickly jet–black unibrow matching his very shoes; his jumpsuit was a predominately emerald splash with but faint accents of both dark blue moon and star platinum requiem at once. The other half had also donned some yellowish skin but in a lighter shade as a hat was found to be camouflaging the thin strands of obsidian hanging downwardly past the neckline but with two of the white stripes upon each of its sides; like the man in red, the former even possessed a silver chariot scheme but with accents of starry sapphires.
“Guys?!” was all that Beamer could say as he’d watched them both being restrained by the straps they were hanging from, full of life yet filled with fear in an instant; soon, it wasn’t long until several of them slithered onto his body without notice or warning as he’d found himself constricted by them despite his desperate struggles, “you scum–fucking son of a bitch…!”
“Everyone knows how this works: the arena is divided into four sections, each of which with various terrains and environments; once inside, the runners have three hours to go through all of them and they’re gonna need every second because you know who’s on their tail…?” the raven haired man explained it all to those in his radius.
The audience answered deafeningly, “the stalkers…!”
“Exactly and once that happens, anything goes…!” the blue eyed announcer yapped as the man in red had a hook latched onto his back with little warning whatsoever, “without further ado, it’s time to start running…! On your marks… get set…”
“I’m gonna make you pay for all this…!” Beamer bellowed as he’d found himself joining his very peers in midair after being pushed off of the platform.
This was of no consequence to the raven haired man as he’d shouted, “GO… GO… GO…!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” all three men in spandex suddenly soon screamed altogether in perfect harmony as they’d instantly found themselves rapidly descending into the opened void underneath their very feet, “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!”
But nobody came… (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzM2oWtTAws)

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                          Carbon                           
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Author's Note
Hello there and welcome back, this time to the second half of Oppositionists' Attractive Frequencies, the one story out of many of my craft to go above and beyond the oneshots I've given you since the inception; suffice to say, the past chapters from before were by far a weak note for all of you, just like what this one is going to be.
In this case, I'm going to warn you in advance that the chapter after this is going to be verging into some dark territory, no relation to that Steven Seagal movie mind you; while it'll be nothing more than a nightmare, it alone will be a stern reminder of why this story is just like the movie, except with no action but not for kids either so to speak of nevertheless.
In any case, just take solace in the fact that this is just a breather since it was such a challenge having to write for a certain character in question; the only good thing I can say about it is that she'll be able to meet a familiar face who would be joining in for this ride, albeit briefly.
Carbon
It was a bright and clear day for the light of the golden sun remained out and about in heavens above its own observers traversing throughout. There were still some silver linings found in the clouds passing about, each of them all varying in shapes and sizes yet otherwise dried and inert. Songs from birds and bees alike were also traveling about in an idiosyncratic manner; sending creatures like and unlike themselves messages. Accompanying the otherwise orchestral duet were the gentle breezes moving the grass and trees, completing their surrounding environs at once.
Speaking of the very environment in question, it was nothing short of an open desert with little vegetation whatsoever in the vicinity. Inside the rather large dream drop distance, a civilization was defined in such various materials used to build themselves from scratch. Out amongst the background were but a widget series of monoliths each raging with growth and erosion in the process of trying times. Nevertheless, it was likely that there would at least be an utter abundance of many individuals from one out of various demographics.
Of the many at this moment in time, a lonely woman was found to walking upon the dirt trail, bearing a rather bright complexion over her skin. Her long hair was vividly violet save for some white streaks accenting them; in addition, a small blue tiara planted over matched its wearer’s orbs. The woman’s attire consisted of a gold jacket and boots combo with a black undershirt matching her leggings alongside a silk skirt and backpack. Additionally, some jewelry was found to be adorning her body: a pair of earrings, two bands, and a necklace made with quadrilateral amethysts.
“Ugh, I never imagined that it’d be out in Appleloosa of all places, let alone here: according to one of my friend’s letters, she should be here in this town; I just have to find her place of residence while I’m still cool or else my butt is cooked…!” the lonely woman had said to herself as she was quickly wiping away the perspiration off of the brows in the process all the while.
In any case, there was nothing more she could do except moving forward throughout the entire neighborhood, each section made up of wood yet full of life like much of her kind altogether. The lonely woman had also seen numbers of them decreasing in density while traveling about, firmly aware of the solid barrenness beyond their confines all thanks to her proactive eyesight. Even as she was left alone to her devices, the potential sensation of being observed was crawling over her back, not that she was in much danger of encountering any corporeally hostile entities. Moreover, the lonely woman’s frown embodied the somber pathos of things based on the locals’ presence as far as they were concerned even with herself maintaining distance from all of them.
Soon enough, she’d found herself standing in front of one of the buildings within the very area: elongated and blue, it’d been composed of timber and steel. Its very roofing was equilateral to a fault as it’d synced up with the solid dimensions of the entire structure almost immediately from such initial observations. There were a few shapely yet wholesome windows sharing the same geometric spaces despite being different, closed or obscured from the outside world. Emanating about was a singular door acting as the primordial gateway to its simplistic domicile, bearing a fruity color reminiscent of some unripen bananas.
It didn’t take long for the lonely woman to approach the entryway almost instantaneously, soon resting her left hand upon the surface of the silvery doorknob. Rotating about, she was quick to find a beige theme from top to bottom after making her move to escape the outside world, more subdued compared to the latter. At the very least, the lonely woman could see every geometric corner nearby herself occupied by a potted plant with an abundance of leaves more than spacious. The flooring underneath her golden boots had all too plentiful carpeting wracked with a mixture of textures and colors showing wear and tear in spite of efforts. Even the population density itself had been drastically reduced to the point where the woman’s loneliness had been amplified by greater amounts immediately.
All of her hopes had soon found themselves taking aim at a set of paper filled with one too many words and too little pictures, monochromatic to a fault. The fact they were spread out by a pair of hands were proof alone the singular woman wasn’t to be overwhelmed by her own faltering lack of emotions. Enshrouding the unknown reader’s territory was but only an angular kiosk of a scarlet base and opened boxes filled to the brim with various materials.
Of the scarce items found in the go between of herself and the other individual within eyesight, a gilded bell was found in time for the former to walk up to it and tap gently, prompting the latter to speak in a gruffly masculine voice altogether to be heard rather clearly, “yeah, what do you want…?”
“I want to see someone; I was told that this is where she lives now: her name’s Diane, an old neighbor of mine from my hometown in Ponyville…” the lonely woman answered reluctantly, hesitant to a fault but firm enough to continue her line of speech for the unknown reader to listen to, “do you know where I can find her room number, sir…?”
“Oh, miss Pinkamena… she’s in room 314; just to warn you, though, the elevator’s still broken here…” he’d said more clearly, this time being more fluid and freer despite the rather gravelly accentuation since the very beginning.
She’d soon traversed the area quietly enough to find a flight of stairs mere yards away from the unknown reader, climbing upward all the while as the forces of gravity were now weighing her very body in the opposite direction. While the lonely woman had anticipated the first impact ever since the very step she took: the minimal information provided by the likes of the unknown reader made her own mass grow in expectation contrast to her stamina. At the very least, she needed to reach her destination fast while both legs could take up the active perambulation within the inner universe; after all, such progress had been made by her sheer will to power alone, never to be wasted. Necessities aside, the lonely woman’s frown returned, this time in full force as every step taking her away from the point of origin had also brought her closer to exhaustion, none which had been helped by her backpack’s contents.
She’d ended sitting down at the steps after getting a glimpse of the corridors within the line of eyesight, each filled with a scarcity of people like and unlike herself rivaling that of the outside world beyond; at that point in time, thoughts were swirling about to little end fast approaching, “what in the world are you trying to prove, that you’re any different from your own mom?! Even Applejack could tell who’s lying to themselves and she’s all messed up from the war; the fact I’m even thinking about her means I’m just as screwed up as the others are, especially her family: my dad was supposed to go multinational years ago but all this crap ruined everything. I head of companies going bankrupt somewhere between before and after the war but everything else that happened in peacetime wasn’t enough: the Spartans are mad because of what had been done to their kinsfolk and almost nobody is planning to sell any fruits in Ponyville, at least not under my daddy’s brand anymore. Of course, my hometown’s not the only place with problems as far as everyone else is concerned about it: these podunk proles from Peachtree had to go and disgrace themselves because of that bastard Eugene; daddy had to remove all of the candy sold by that factory off the shelves since that court case years ago…! I never thought the Princesses would go so far as to intervene on behalf of that lowly little lousy troublemaker despite his confession, much less have Luna return to wearing the crown again; come to think of it, I’m not even sure if I have any more reason to keep wearing mine upon my head, knowing what everyone else knows about him as well as his friends and neighbors too. I’m actually wondering what can I do now that the war is over, especially considering what has become of my father’s business: Barnyard Bargains may be still on the map now but since that kooky granny’s passing, it’s only a matter of time until it goes under; it’s even hard for me to think about what’s to be done about my own life in the meantime, something she can relate to.”
“Diamond Tiara, is that you…?” another feminine voice bubbled up into the surface world, breaking the stationary woman out of her cerebration almost instantaneously, “I wasn’t expecting to see you of all people here, at least not by yourself…”
“Miss Diane…?” the primary listener had replied, standing back up to find the source in question immediately.
It didn’t take much at all for Diamond to come into contact with one of the complex’s tenants, something which had just put the former at ease already. Commonalities between themselves became more than apparent as far as the crowned traveler seen: blue eyes, bright skin, and long hair fitted the two. Even so, the women alone had more than a fair share of differences regarding their appearances at once, especially considering their sudden encounter.
Diamond could easily see that Diane was at the very least several inches taller than the former by sheer comparison alone so to speak of. The tenant’s hair was also more longer than the traveler, freed from whatever accessories which restrict the strands but a flatly hot pink. This was serving as a contrast to the integuments in which Diane was at least fifty shades darker than the likes of Diamond yet still light. The taller tenant’s clothes were a true blue ensemble of a jacket, shorts, and boots as well as a snow white shirt donning a pink heart.
At once, Diane was more than quick in giving a reply to the lonely visitor in due time altogether, “hi, what brings you here alone…?”
“It’s nothing really; I’d actually came to see mine friend: her name’s Silver Spoon, though I’m pretty sure you already know her…” Diamond had answered her pinker counterpart instantly, one of the former’s hands still resting onto the straps of the very backpack, “I was hoping to catch up to her before she’d left for the Institute again; do you think she’s still around lately…?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Diamond, but I’ve not been able to see your friend at all since last fortnight ago: I know that you and Silver Spoon were the best of buddies since childhood and probably still are; in any case, why did you go and come all the way out here to Appleloosa by your lonesome…?” the tall tenant had sighed sadly, much to her aforementioned correspondent’s dismay overall.
The singular traveler turned away and huffed, “it’s probably nothing to worry about, though to be honest, I haven’t been able to get over what had happened lately; it’s a long story and I can’t even find the right words to keep it short.”
Resting a hand upon the shoulder, Diane asked Diamond immediately, “you want to come inside anyway…? I’d just done my shopping minutes ago and I’ve not been able to eat all morning…”
“I don’t know here: forgive me, but I haven’t been able to figure out where else I could even go after I’d planned to meet Silvy…” the crowned woman answered as she was looking down at the floorboards, avoiding any and all eye contact for the most part, “it’s just that ever since I’d became an adult, I’d not been able to figure out my true calling past the party you’d hosted then.”
“I insist anyway: even after all that has happened, I still have my hospitality to share to anyone; besides, I have nothing else better to do until tomorrow morning…” the tall tenant interceded, getting into Diamond’s line of eyesight again rather gently as the latter felt both feet planted into another plane similar to theirs but nonetheless drastically different anyway.
The singular traveler had came back to clarity and said softly, “I can see that; even after all these years I still can’t resist hearing the similarities between you and Silvy: how did I get so lucky…?”
“I’m not saying this as a formality; for all that I would’ve known, you could’ve been one of my kith and/or kin or the princesses…” Diane replied to Diamond without any sign of hesitation whatsoever in the former’s voice to be comforting the latter, “as a matter of fact, we would’ve done the same thing like before, not just out of adherence to law and order themselves you see.”
“Yeah, I wish I could say the same thing about the others…” the crowned woman exhaled as she’d braced herself for the incoming impact after both straps were being returned to the sides of their owner’s abdomen.
Sure enough, Diamond felt her body becoming more lighter than she’d been so far as the white backpack found itself in the grip of her taller counterpart whom said, “please, let me carry your stuff for a while; after all, you look like that you’d gone up a hill only to come down a mountain: I should make it easier for you since your legs took you far enough to get here…”
“Thanks, but there are some things I must do for myself; I may have been born into money but I’d changed out of the mindset…” the striped traveler replied, reasserting ownership over her own accessory in question, much to Diane’s dismay overall of course, “besides, our butler Randall isn’t here with us anymore to do any of the work; he’d retired after the war had ended.”
“Does he still visit though…?” the tall tenant asked.
Diamond kept a straight face as she’d said to Diane, “barely… I’d never expected him to make it this far, let alone see the war end; as a matter of fact, my parents lost half of their collective resources investing in the defense budget Equestria needed during and after: equipment such as weaponry and armor were built thanks to people like him, especially since Granny Smith is–––”
“I know, Applejack had told me the whole story about her years ago, not to mention what they’d done to Apple Bloom and herself…” the taller tenant had interjected, this time turning around to walk up the stairs away from the singular visitor at once, “it was the stuff of nightmares hearing it all from my dear friend, barely strong enough to hold a candle to what happened to my folks.”
“What exactly did happen?” Diamond choked out.
Diane stopped herself in place and made no attempt to face her crowned correspondent abaft as liquids were growing from the corner of the former’s eyes; nevertheless, some words had soon escaped from their owner’s lips, slow and steady like a tortoise yet otherwise shaking to and fro, “everything no child of any age should dare to read about, much less experience altogether…”
“Agreed… I can’t go a day without thinking about all the lives lost over the years since then as well as the ones changed…” Diamond spoken out as she’d witnessed the taller counterpart’s legs getting back to being up and running from the nearest flooring, “I remember that fateful day like it was only yesterday: it’d all started with a letter sent to me from my friend, Silver Spoon. As you may have remembered, we were the only ones in Ponyville with rich families: my dad’s business was Barnyard Bargains and hers had an export business; it would’ve seemed like that was the only thing we had in common so far, at least before the war broke out. Most of the richest people in Equestria were usually found in the nation’s capital of Canterlot, either ‘cause of nobles or some other old money types; we were the nouveau riche – people whom had gotten wealthy because our parents had stuck it big making smart investments: he’d sold Zap Apple Jam and her mom made expensive tablewares. Nevertheless, we still went to the same schoolhouse as every other kid our age, including the Crusaders themselves, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo; of course, they didn’t always call themselves that name, let alone hung out together like we did, at least not since the Summer Sun Celebration back in our youth. Out of us whom had found our calling, I was the first to discover mine at age twelve and Silvy trailed behind at eleven; the others in our class whom had yet to do so were those three and Twist, or so we’d thought: in any case, it’d have seemed like they were going to be stuck like this forever because of their youth and whatnot like in those newspaper comics and novels. I can’t believe I’d been nothing but a bully to them for the past few months before the war, all because she was a young farmhand who could never measure up to the likes of us, or so we’d thought…”
“As in you and Silver Spoon: it doesn’t surprise me that she would own up to the whole thing, much less feel bad about it over the years since she’d moved away from Ponyville; people seem to think things last forever all ‘cause the world happens to exist for who knows how long…” Diane sighed as she’d made it through the ordeal.
The crowned traveler took in a deep breath and exhaled, “only because they think like little kids out to change the world and show them what they’ve been made of and into since birth; one used to think being born into a rich family means having it all made but that’s just beyond the surface of things as far as the public is concerned. Even before I was able to speak, I could always remember how my mother wanted me to the optimal heir to the family fortune no matter what happened; now that I think about it, it seemed to be no wonder why Silver Spoon and I were so alike all of the sudden: could they’ve been so interested in staying rich and powerful they couldn’t make time for another one? Anyway, it’s been hard for me to look back on every single memory in my life that hasn’t been about maintaining her approval of myself, much less staying true to myself without losing it all; I know it’s not nice, let alone polite, to backbite, especially someone as closest to me like my own mother… it’s just that looking back on all this, I could say that our mothers were still better.”
“How exactly and what do you mean by that: who were they better than…?” the taller tenant asked as she’d made it to a higher floor, no less different from the ones underneath themselves, “it’s not like they hated you or anything so to speak…”
“Of course she didn’t hated me: she’s my mom for Celestia’s sake; it’s just that after everything that happened, I can’t go on knowing what some people were like for the most part, let alone what they’d done to remind me how much I’d used to be like…” Diamond sniffed as her legs buckled under the weight of the world she and Diane were in, both still on a solid foundation.
The taller tenant turned around and looked upon her crowned correspondent with a softer visage, small fractions of the floor the latter rested over being saturated with beads of achromatic fluids; afterwards, the former found the remaining within to bend both knees and crawl about to extend reasonable comfort with words, “hey, hey… you’re a woman now… there’s no need for tears… You and Silver Spoon are strong enough to be better than this; I don’t care what you were back in the past and even if I did, we’re in the now as we were: we’re in our twenties and we have our lives to tend to – you have your family and fortune and I have a career and family to look after. Don’t forget that you still have people that love you anyway and not just your parents and Silver Spoon: I know for a fact that you still have a certain secret someone whom loves you after all this time despite everything which had already happened recently.”
“What… I didn’t say any of it at all; why could you say such a thing like that?!” Diamond had soon exclaimed with little warning whatsoever, both cheeks currently burning madder in a great shock compared to Diane’s already tickled pink smirk, “I haven’t had a date at all in my entire life so far, let alone a kiss…!”
“Calm down, it’s not a big deal worth worrying over: it’s not the end of the world; besides, you have a whole life to look forward to making something of at this age anyways so there’s plenty of time to use wisely, little Diamond…” the tall tenant tittered about prior to patting the shorter visitor on the head gently without touching the latter’s crown in any shape or form overall.
This didn’t amuse its titular owner one bit as she slowly snarled, “please keep your hands off my crown; it’s a family heirloom: it’d once belonged to my own great–grandmother, Lucille Sky Diamond…”
“That explains the eponym…” Diane commented blatantly about, guiding her crowned counterpart upward by the hand all the while, “come on, let’s head on inside now… it’s almost getting late anyway; I have one more day off ‘til I go back to work…”
“What will you do in the meantime, Miss Diane…?” Diamond inquired about now energized.
The tall tenant answered freely, “please, you don’t have to keep referring to me by that name: call me Pinkie, everyone back in Ponyville did, especially all of my friends and even the strangers from the other side; anyways, I need to rest for awhile for the time being, especially with how stressful everything had been lately ever since I’d moved away again years ago…”
“Wait, what strangers: who are you talking about…?” the crowned visitor had suddenly choked out whiter in shock instead before shaking her head briefly, “never mind; besides, you mean to tell me that you weren’t even born in Ponyville at all; then, where did you actually come from anyway…?”
“I guess you weren’t there when those schoolmates of yours asked us how we all met together that day: I came from a small town named Rockville, just like Appleloosa was but much older but that’s neither here or there; besides, you’re already tired anyway so I should take you with me and make you feel at home…” Pinkie answered while grabbing Diamond by the hand gently.
The crowned pedestrian felt the wrist's circulation constrict a bit as she was being led away by her rosier correspondent, all while the former had ruminated about, “I knew I was going to end up like this had I gone sooner: I just have to hope that my friend returns home tomorrow morning before I do; after all, I wouldn’t have made this trip for nothing, knowing where she lives now. I wish I’d talked to her sooner about other things after the war had ended: I never knew that her mother would even take her own life after what these soldiers did, let alone have my friend listen to it all while in hiding no less; I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if they’d found her there. Oh, what the fuck is wrong with this world today: I’d never imagined how much evil was going to be allowed in this day and age but never thought about the war coming to our backyard; was it even necessary for Silvy’s mom to be treated this way by a bunch of our own men, not to mention Sweetie Belle of all people getting left to die in such a manner prior to all this?! We were all kids, for Celestia’s sake; we’ve had our own lives to look forward to: Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Twist, Dinky, and even Star Dreams – they all deserved better than whatever fresh slice of Tartarus on Equestria unleashed by the war, especially with all the madness visited upon us. I can’t even believe what that monster did to miss Cheerilee: raped and beaten just to save her own students from getting slaughtered like they were nothing; now, she can barely even set foot back in Ponyville without reliving the horrors, especially knowing what happened to both her and the girl she’d adopted ever since. It seems that everyone I know nowadays is either dead, comatose, crippled, insane, diseased, imprisoned, bankrupt, poorer, disgraced, intoxicated, missing, homeless, and/or on the way to becoming latched onto by the downward spiral; even worse, I’m still stuck in one and I can’t seem to find a way out of it without being reminded of what happened to all of us. Even now, I hate what I’d been acting like before the war broke out, especially considering what happened during and after that: it’s one thing to take the life of another individual simply because they’re enemy combatants irregardless; accident or not, I’d never imagined someone going out of their way to hurt someone at a party due to their past, let alone by a guest’s sister. I thought I was bad enough because I wanted mom to love me but I could never comprehend living in a household where everyone hates you for merely existing or so it seems; at least my parents told me to choose my friends wisely and this was before Twilight came down from Canterlot and even I wish she would let me be friends with Apple Bloom more longer. I don’t even know for sure if she ever even wants to see me again after all the times Silver Spoon and I messed with her and those two friends, especially knowing what happened to them: even looking at them gives me the creeps alone but seeing them in my sleep was breaking my stride much further; I hope this doesn’t happen again because my mom can’t even stand it for one bit.”
For what it was worth, there was nothing else more Diamond could do at this passing moment in time as far as anyone, in or out of the building, was concerned: although Pinkie was in the same location as the former, the mindset was lost on the echoes of time and space, pulled down by the variable weight thereof in which the latter remained blissfully unaware of altogether so to speak.

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                         Soapstone                         
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Author's Note
It's Fireflower again with the sixth installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic going beyond the typical oneshots I'd made from before and already using canon characters as human beings instead of their normal forms as well as Blaze of Lupinus; however, this is nonetheless a Mature fimfic for this chapter here will deal with certain subject matters considered unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated.
In addition, I would like to take this time to inform you this chapter is only a nightmare but it can and will bring shock, awe, and outrage out of you in ways too horrible to imagine so it's with a generous heart and mind that yours truly has uploaded another chapter after this as well on the same day no less: for those of you amongst themselves wishing to skip ahead, please do so; I promise, it'll help calm your nerves a bit for the most part.
Lastly, let me also say that I hope you can withstand this chapter now and stay tuned for future chapters later on then again, you've but a few options: stop right there and wait, go back to the beginning, or skip ahead to the next chapter; whatever decision you make, I won't blame you but consider yourselves warned.
Soapstone
As simple as it’d looked upon a flat surface ready to be observed by wayward eyes belonging to many of its various lifeforms, a description was well needed to comprehend the dimensions thereof, irregardless of its usefulness and ease altogether. For starters, the surroundings were confining yet were as liberal as nature itself: the expanse was equiangular to a fault and colored in a bright shade of off–white despite the freedoms guaranteed within the open spaces provided by the very surface area. One of the walls had a window with blinds and drapery bearing the textures, but not the tastes, of butterscotch pudding illuminated by photons on the other side; opposing it was but a purple door already opened thanks to a small crack upon the border. Nevertheless, light was already inside there thanks to a rotating fan hanging ten feet off of the ground, a quartet of bulbs currently shining brightly as their conjoined field of vision beamed downwardly towards the soft and stringy flooring at once. More amenities were found in the otherwise confined space, each all varying in size and shape altogether: a jet–black flat screen resting on one brown drawer, two green lamps standing upon their own nightstands, and a tall mirror standing alone. In any case, an enormous bed rested right in the middle of the room with a view: it was cloaked with a thick thistle comforter accompanied by matching pillows and sheets of an even lighter shade; additionally, one individual was sleeping in now.
Its singular occupant was a lonely woman bearing a rather bright complexion over her skin: the face, through tranquil to a fault, was tensed up. She’d possessed vividly violet tresses with white streaks accenting them and a few strands out of place for the air to do whatever it’d felt natural. Plainclothes consisting of two elastic bands were enough to show the lonely woman’s modesty, even as the blanket itself had done all the work.
It didn’t take much for her eyelids to fly open in an instant, bearing star sapphires underneath them as they’d taken aim at the ceiling; of course, this was all because of some undisclosed liquid currently descending en masse upon a flat surface area within the cold distance: although it’d bore the textures of rain, it was rather more closer than she’d initially imagined in an instant.
Immediately, the lonely woman rose from her station and began climbing out of bed, displaying more of a curvaceous formation: despite being clad in a small pink ensemble of a thin brassiere and panties, a majority of her very integuments were exposed to air; nevertheless, she was completely dry enough to keep that information in the back of her mind to contrast the forefront. In a matter of moments, she’d pulled the door further apart to find the hallway in between her bedchamber and the other crack of light already enshrouded in darker color than the former; despite the minimalistic details, or lack thereof, walking distance was of no concern anyway, using what little courage and curiosity within herself to be summoned instantaneously no less.
After making it to the other side, the woman in pink was now able to smell all of the simplistic elements of water, both separate and conjoined, entering her nose filled with a warm fragrance; such was enough for a wayward hand to rest on the knob and turn it around with the metal latch sliding after clicked loudly enough to gently pushed into a smaller room. The slow yet steady change in temperature was being suddenly felt by her body in its entirety, the mists clouding up both eyes as the sounds of precipitation grew loud and concentrated; thankfully, it was but a matter of time until the atmospheric osmosis took effect, giving the lone observer an opportunity to see the new area bearing a more tropical theme. Out of the predominately fruity sea of citrus and citrine, the woman in pink had walked carefully enough to feel the orange gloss underneath her feet as they were wet with the same substance as is: upon the steam dissipating, she could now see the floral arrangements all frozen in time yet devoid of the wintry mixes capable of rendering them completely barren. Many accommodations firmly gathered within her line of eyesight consisted of similar objects fitting for the area in question: a closed toilet, a wet sink, lightbulbs atop mirror, an open cabinet, a filled hamper, and a covered bathtub; as far as anyone else could even see it clearly, it was in use, hence the sounds and scents therein inviting the likes of her to show.
All of these details were miniscule compared to what the woman in pink had seen inside there or, better yet, who else: a muscular man of a brighter complexion standing beneath a showerhead. Unlike her, he was completely in the altogether, thanks to the fact that the artificial rainstorm was focused on his bristled integuments; each dyed a silver chariot highlighted in light hot pink. Despite the singular man’s face directed up towards the stream of water pouring on his face, the woman in pink could catch a glimpse of golden experience within one of his eyelids so far away. It didn’t take much for her to be burning bright red at the sight of him already wet and fresh from the hot and heavy atmosphere she’d found him inside of with no effort made therein whatsoever.
“Blaze…?” was all that the woman in pink could say out her mouth in confusion, no less directed towards the singular man within the room.
After the water ceased to rain from above, the titular tenant turned to find her back facing him in an instant and called out in return no less, “Diamond… what’s the matter: you look like you’d seen a ghost; aren’t you happy to see me…?”
The eponymous eyewitness couldn’t find any additional strength to answer the singular man, much less look at him anyway, scurrying back out of the bathroom and into whence she’d came; a flood of thoughts were now more than ready for her to try and succeed where the vapors and moistures had left off, slinking in failure as gravity kick in thanks to the cold air within no less.
“This can’t be right at all: I’m supposed to be in Ponyville with my parents, not out in the middle of nowhere with Blaze of all people…!” the woman in pink said to herself soundlessly, already struggling to make sense of what had been seen recently many would remember, “as a matter of fact, what in the world is he doing here of all places at a time like this, especially right now?! It’s bad enough my mother would’ve had a heart attack if she’d known about us both altogether, but imagine everyone else reacting to it outside of Ponyville; I know about all the terrible stuff happening here and there and that’s because of the whole damn war we’d been in: not even all the bits in the world would convince them to let us be, not after what they did to Cadance. I didn’t even know a damn thing about her being a princess, much less being adopted by Princess Celestia of all people; forget the changelings, even I can’t think of a reason why she would be killed, much less be in the crosshairs: it’s like the whole world has gone mad thinking that this would go on without a hitch of all things to be considered…!”
“Ditty, is everything okay…?” he’d asked her since following after the trail she’d made not long ago, now clad in a midnight towel around his waist.
Diamond turned around to face Blaze slowly, gathering up the resolve to reply slowly, “I don’t know… it’s just been hard for me to process all this info…”
“What are you talking about…?” the wet man inquired as the dry woman still smelled the water over his pale yet lively skin no less, “whatever it is, you can talk to me; we’re friends after all and friends need to be open about ourselves: that means trying to solve problems together…”
“You… oh Blaze, it was awful: when I woke up, I thought I would’ve never seen you again…” she’d heaved instantaneously.
His eyes widened in shock as he’d exclaimed, “what?!”
“I had a nightmare, a terrible one at that: I’d dreamt that you were here nearby the wreck of a schoolhouse starving to near death…” Diamond broke down crying in front of Blaze, covering her eyes with both hands as she’d become moistened, “it was dark so I’d figured it’d be safe for me to help you find shelter but a bunch of men came out of nowhere started cutting you up…!”
“Yeah but I’m here and I’m fine…” the damp man said as he’d just wrapped his left arm around the weeping woman as gently as possible.
It didn’t take much for her to return the favor, hugging him in full force without pain or suffering delivered even despite the sobs, “I’m not… I haven’t been really honest with myself or to you lately so to speak of; as a matter of fact, I haven’t been even honest about how I’d gone about with my own life: I’m not the woman you’d been led to believe I was even after all those years. Even though I was born and raised in Ponyville, I was one of the few that had a rich family: in my case, this was due to my father, Filthy Rich, inheriting Barnyard Bargains from his father; of course, that didn’t make us anything like the upper–class found in Canterlot usually as far as the commoners were concerned. Despite the fact that he’d sold Granny Smith’s Zap Apple Jam, we’d already found ourselves constantly interacting with other neighbors, many of whom we had nothing in common with at; Silver Spoon and her family were the lone exception because of how similar we are to each other in spite of our own differences, something my mother had taken note of all too well so to speak. As a matter of fact, I’d remembered the day she’d commented on my friend’s skin color when I was just a little girl: mom said she ‘couldn’t believe that Silver Spoon’s family were just like Princess Celestia’s miscreant sister Luna’; even though I’d not seen her or how related they were to each other, I could still overhear the disgust in her tone whilst I was out of her sight no less. Even without that comment, I could still realize how hard it was for me to live under the same roof as my own mother even with him: she always kept a closer eye on what friends I had, the places I’d gone to, the stuff that I buy, and even the food I’d eaten than father did; as much as I’d wanted to be myself, I could never even escape being right underneath her thumb all the same. To be honest, Apple Bloom wasn’t the only one I’d wanted to be friends with, especially as far as the schoolhouse was concerned; there was another kid who’d sometimes came to class on certain days and I wasn’t even around to pay attention most of the time: Alula Pluto Erroria was the name yet it was so long everyone generally either referred to Alula or Pluto but never Erroria. I was the one exception who used that last name, one to show how different we are from the rest of the schoolhouse, let alone the class; Erroria was a princess, a young one at that with one secret to keep from the rest of the town, especially as far as the adults were concerned: despite being an actual female on the outside like myself, she’d happened to be a lot like you… down there…”
“You mean an intersexual and at your age no less; how does that even work: what livelihoods do people like her have here and there…?” Blaze had stuttered about, taken aback by the last batch of words spoken by Diamond herself as he soon found refuge upon the bedside, “is it like one of those movies about a confused pianist or some troubled campers…?”
“Neither hopefully: even though that Equestria has been more open and welcoming to intersexuals like Erroria herself for so long, we still have problems here and abroad; after all, I’d remembered the book report I did back in high school on the Founders of Equestria years ago…” enunciated the woman in pink whom had done the same.
In any case, the singular man rested his back upon the surface of the uneven fabric and sighed, “I know: war’s ramping to insurmountable heights, terrorists are hitting up and running from places, not to mention rumors of a rebellion getting out; it’s not even safe to be out in the Capital whether as a new arrival or old departure, especially after from what I’d heard…”
“Oh, you mean the Changelings: then I suppose that there’s more trouble in paradise than we're already aware of, isn’t there…?” she’d groaned, looking down at her own two feet and the stringy flooring underneath them both by contrast, “I don’t know what’s worse: keeping our love a secret from my parents or our lives unraveling before us alongside everyone near and dear…”
“In any case, I have a confession myself: Diamond, you are not the first person I’d met, let alone fell in love with; as a matter of fact, I’m not just attracted to just girls like you…” he spoke with a faint bead of liquid escaping from the corner of his golden eye, reminiscent of the water which had rained over himself in terms of colorlessness.
This had prompted the aforementioned listener to turn back and scoff at Blaze, “and I bet you were probably having the time of your life wearing women’s clothing while everyone whom had taken a flight of tickling their own fancy–free to you’d sucked, fucked, and/or jerked off to you like there was no tomorrow coming or going if you catch my drift…”
“You’re not wrong about that either: I had no problem whatsoever with taking it up the backdoor and not when it’d came to guys…” the moist man had laughed as the woman in pink crawled right over to his side slowly with a salacious smirk on her face, “as a matter of fact, I’d already comprehend the idea of girls using dildos on themselves and each other as well as other men.”
“Same here: after all, I’ve practiced kissing Silvy and Erroria a lot of times when no one was looking at either of us, I’ve become accustomed to the taste and texture of it all, especially as far as they were concerned; at the very least you can do is prove to me I can be good or better…” she’d cooed all the while before quickly stealing away a kiss directly from his lips in an instant.
It didn’t take much for themselves to feel their own faces becoming so hot and heavy from such proximity, both bodies burning brightly a bittersweet symphony straight out of urban hymns. Their mouths opened up to each other as they’d become more eager for exploration, both tongues similar to a fault as they were different to themselves as far as its owners were concerned no less. Almost immediately, the twosome had surrendered to their amorously base concupiscence as Diamond soon felt Blaze’s arms being wrapped around her back gently as he’d have thought of. Neither tenant dared to release one another from their comforts, carrying on for at least over a minute tongue–tied during their embrace as their conjoined passions were beginning to blossom. Of course, as far as the duo was aware, they were more than quick to take at least one note of whatever anomalies therein had rested in either surface area no matter how slick they were at all.
It didn’t take much for the moistened man to gain control over the woman in pink sure enough, shifting their weights together in so little time he was now on top of things and herself at once; at this point in time, he’d broken away from their osculation just to speak with her with confidence, “so, you want to change your mind right now or do you want to keep going, my Diamond…?”
“Let me slip into something more comfortable, my dear; that way it’ll be more pleasing for the likes of you, if you know what I mean…” the titular tenant tittered as Blaze had knelt straight up, giving her enough time and room to grasp the straps of her own brassiere so ever gently, “you ready for some good old–fashioned lovemaking…?”
“Who wouldn’t be; after all, we have the whole place to ourselves with not a care in the world and nobody here to object to our passions directly: it’s not like that anyone is gonna care about what we do together, right…?” the wet man answered as he’d watched the woman in pink undoing the bands afore him immediately, baring her bouncing bosoms in a matter of seconds.
The sheer fact that she was so quick to let him get a glimpse of her own growing dishabille still proved to be too much for his eyes: a supple form with a density rivaling the likes of even a reflated volleyball due to having been of so much substance than style itself; in addition, there were rose tinted nubbins sticking outward on endwise as a reminder of their own differences. Even though that Blaze was at a loss for words, he’d showed no problem in letting the palms of his hands do all the work as many calluses brushed up against Diamond’s malleable form within; this had earned him a whinny from her as she’d felt her ords twist and turn gently to the point of feeling herself becoming no different from when he was in the shower, albeit differently no less.
Of course, there were only so many seconds on the clock the woman in pink could remain silent until another tug of her bust’s endings had gained so much more pressure than earlier before, she’d then spoke softly, “you know you can do more than just looking and touching my boobs, Blaze; we’re young and have our whole lives ahead of us: take me now, please…!”
“Sorry, I’m not really used to the whole idea of us being all by ourselves; I may have gotten out of the shower yet I’m still nervous…” the damp man said as he’d reluctantly released his grip off of her cleavage at once, much to her dismay as perspiration grew from him, “are you sure you want to go through with this…?”
“Come here, you…!” Diamond snarled playfully as she’d grabbed onto the back of his head and pushed him directly into her bared and pointy bosoms with little warning whatsoever, catching him off–guard in an instant no less with each side of the cheekbone making a slight impression upon the surface area all the same.
Despite everything, Blaze slowly embraced his lust as his tongue found its way in between the supine woman’s bust, tickling her integuments with the tacky textures as she’d moaned slightly with such delight. In any case, she’d felt herself hardening about as the small ribbons of salivation were soon drawn towards her nubbins, all the work of the sweating man after latching onto one of them with such tender loving care. Needless to say, Diamond squealed as some dentition was soon suddenly imprinted upon the left ords gently, causing both eyes to widen a bit as she’d stared at him trying to drink away the fluid hidden into them. Even as though the sheer sharply stinging spasms shot up and down the supine woman’s body, she’d held on firmly to Blaze’s neckline and helped him continue his exploration as he’d savored the very moments. Respiration was another course of action she was staying on, panting and moaning at such various speeds and concentrations responsively thanks to the active man’s efforts as far as she could see clearly. Such was the life, liberty, pursuit of happiness, and equality being exhibited by the likes of them, the lone legatos of Diamond lazing about as he’d alternated between both endings of her own resilient cleavage.
After many minutes occurring about, Blaze broke away from the supine woman with a mouthful of milk as a small trail thereof landed back onto her skin; following this, he’d swallowed it all down with ease and gulped, “you know, Diamond, you’re actually much softer than you actually claim to be, even more so than your mother…”
“Let’s hope that she never finds out about it yet; after all, I just want to be with you and you alone, nothing more, nothing less…” she’d giggled right before the active man began to plant a trail of wet kisses onto her very skin starting beneath the milked bosoms, “oh, Blaze, just eat me out already; my kitty’s feeling wet for merely thinking about what’s to come next here…!”
“I know and even I’m actually nervous about what will happen right after we do this together…” he’d panted after stopping near Diamond’s umbilicus, already mindful of the past in which she’d exposed herself more to him all too easily and aware of the future awaiting the state of her entire body up on display as far as they could see clearly.
Needless to say, the passive woman was quick to place her hand next to the waistline where its surrounding fabric remained and sighed, “don’t worry about it; after what they’ve done to all of us, I don’t really care what they think of us now: all we have to focus on now is staying strong together. It’s the least we can do for each other and I don’t want what happened at Canterlot to befall us; I don’t want to be scared of what the future will bring us because of them but be happy that it’ll be there waiting for people like you and me as well as the family we can make together. Even without the princess of love here among us, she would’ve wanted us to be happy no matter who we are or where we came from: up until this fateful day, I’d been stuck in my role as my mother’s doll alone, never being allowed to act out of her idealization; I don’t know what would’ve happened if Cadance was still alive but many of us would agree it would’ve worked. The fact that these Changelings have caused so much pain and suffering to us was more than enough cause for alarm even though I haven’t seen them at all: I’ve accepted the fact that I can’t keep living in a world full of lies if the truth is one of the virtues that Equestria has stood with, especially after what has been said and done by our enemies. In any other day and age, deception is nothing more than a sad reminder of how easy it is for others to see the real you, even if others aren’t saying anything to one’s face at all: it’s no better than the makeup we can wear to hide the fact that we only have nothing more or less than the allotted time given and taken to, by, and from us, a currency that is nonrenewable as space itself. No one can truly be free from the consequences of our actions, especially when we fail to do anything whatsoever in being good; no amount of prestige or power can give us any immunity whenever we allow any wrongdoing to take place, be if our hands or not: I should know this well because I’m not happy about treating people who weren’t like ourselves no better than dirt itself. Generally speaking, I know for a fact that when all of this is over, I have a lot of people to apologize to for the way I’ve acted to them, especially Apple Bloom of all people no less; at the very least, it’ll serve to show that I’d changed for the better and hopefully she and her friends would forgive me in turn no less so we can start over together on better terms than in youth.”
“Aw, how sweet; it’s a shame that you both have made it this far at once only to reach your ends together: bittersweet but fitting…” a shrill feminine warble escaped into both their ears, catching both of them off–guard as they’d both looked around for the source, “HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…!”
“What was that?!” Blaze barked as he’d gotten off of Diamond’s body almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed with shock and outrage.
The supine woman wasted no time whatsoever in covering up her dishabille with a blanket while the red–hot lusts radiating from the visage metamorphosed into a brightened and bleached disgust, a free hand now reaching underneath her pillow afore she roared acutely in the process, “show yourself while you can, fucker; I gotta a gun and I’m not afraid to use it…!”
“That won’t be necessary anyway; after all, you’re all going to die really soon and there’s nothing you can do about it…” the ethereal observer laughed while anger was fresh on the tenant’s minds, shared and directed towards the former out of sight, “as a matter of fact, you’re already dead…!”
“Huh?!” was all that the lonely man could choke out as all the photons within the area were swallowed up by the darkness in an instant, caught alongside himself and Diamond too no less; afterwards, only the wet gushes of liquid escaped en masse, each of them varying in size, sound, and time thereof as they’d all splashed against whichever surface nearby irregardless of texture.
Seconds have passed as the room was illuminated once more, this time with a deep crimson hue as everything within the area had been thrown into a solid state society of professional chaos and general disarray: stained streaks of scarlet were strewn about with reckless abandonment as dry cuts were also found to be messing up the furniture and electronics alike without cares for health. All of this destruction and mayhem paled in comparison to the two faces found in a whole new light, each with their own incisions great and small as they’d lain across the bedside together: matted scalps, torn textiles, and carved integuments all littered the entire fabric underneath them so sparsely they were all supersaturated with the monochromatic fluids from its very owners. Most startlingly, the lack of clothing over the tenants’ body were of the upmost matter therein than ever before so to speak of: the cracks in Blaze’s skin showed muscles and tendon exposed to the open air, even his haunches once covered by his wet towel; the corporeal female underneath, though covered up by the likes of him, was surrounded by threads of pink no less.
Diamond’s eyes were now facing upward as her true blue eyes became dull and listless with tears escaping from themselves, mixing with the blood spattered throughout her face as she’d been twisted and turnt into that of pain and sorrow while coughing, “why…?”
No answer was ever even given to either occupant as the mess made was concentrated and composed of their bodies, parts and all.

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                           Malus                           
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Author's Note
Hello, it's Fireflower as always ready to give you another chapter on the way: of course, this chapter contains references to certain subject matters and thusly the reason why this story has been rated M for Mature; of course, you'd already known that far too well so as such, this will be the last time I mention it.
Aside from disclaimers long ago, I'd like to take this time to say thank you for never pulling out too early since we're now in the halfway region of the story's progress; somehow, the new year will provide us with a new hope to have and hold with tender loving care rather than yet a totally lost cause and the strength to continue onward in staying tuned for the future that is the now: I believe at this rate, everything will make sense soon enough.
One last thing before I sign off, I want to let you know that another old friend is also going to be joining the story that I'm sure y'all, remember; in additional, there's also another original character serving as a reminder of whom was lost along the way over the years so to speak of: as such, please don't steal him from me.
Malus
It was a dark and stormy day, but it’d still possessed the light that was hidden away from the eyes of its own observers whom were now running about at this moment in time thereof. The silver linings that could have been easily found as the shine in the storm were overshadowed by the outpouring of rainwater falling upon terra firma almost immediately nevertheless. Some sounds of thunder currently rolled about within the vast storm clouds while refrained waves of lightning carved its way throughout with their blinding speed and synchronicity. Unbound by the vast spaciousness of the very atmosphere alone, the cluster of grays and whites with the occasional colors spread further apart all over the lands and waters underneath. Kiloliters worth of achromatic fluids had already saturated the terrain, many square acres of it all were gaining the very texture more malleable than even the stone and metal themselves. Accompanying the rain and thunder were the howling winds now moving the sands and plants which had already completed the interactive orchestra for its surrounding environment.
Speaking of the environment in question, it was nothing short of a desert, no different from the ones before but not the same either way so to speak. Of the areas therein, there was a fence made with the finest of steels and black as night, yet the sanctity thereof was still upheld in principles alone. Despite the abundance of stones, there were trees in the middle of it all, each of them bearing an abundance of flowers in various colors and species. A lot were observed by wayward pedestrians traveling about with only a semblance of awareness regarding their solitary purpose within their spacing. Such was the still life and times of this small thicket, united by a common goal with solidarity and reflection as they were stared upon all the same.
Standing out amongst the few denizens traversing to and fro was but a lonely man found to be tearfully staring deep at the small tree in a rather melancholy trance. His skin was one of the fairest within the land and beyond, his coating reminiscent of the palest goldenrod yet had been showing signs of some wear and tear alone. The bright man’s eyes had already possessed some brilliant pistachio fertile with life yet listless as they were offset by moisture and underlined by curvatures below. His locks were but a mixture of gamboge and amber, both sharing the same level of brilliance despite vying for dominance and covered by a widen jet–black hat. The bright ginger also wore a matching ensemble of textiles shielding him from the hard rain: a shirt, vest, gloves, pants, and boots; also, a blue umbrella was held.
“HERE LIES LITTLE STRONGHEART – LOVING DAUGHTER OF CHIEF THUNDERHOOVES, MAIDEN OF THE BZHEKE TRIBE, GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN” the stone pillar read, standing between the tree and himself all while being adorned with flowers at the base thereof.
After another gust of wind howled against the crashing thunder, it was now time for the bright ginger to chime in with a wheeze, despite being so weary, “howdy, Lister; it’s Braeburn again: Ah hope that everything is well in the Great Beyond like usual, all peaceful and the like. Even after all these years, Ah think of ya always, yer smile and yer laugh: the fact that Ah am still breathing has been nothing but pain every waking day ever since, especially after learning what had been done t’ ya; even now, the dreams in which Ah can see ya there have left me in tears. Ah am not angry anymore, but the blame’s gotta fall on me: after all, Ah am torn apart when Ah think that Ah won’t be there t’ see yer child come into this cruel sick unrepentantly inexcusable example of our world cradled in yer arms and the first smile; it’s even worse knowing what had happened t’ mah cousins, especially Applejack of all people. Even now, Ah can’t stomach looking her in the eye knowing how much she’d suffered before the war began and what she’d tried t’ do t’ her sister Apple Bloom; Ah guess this is something Ah can never come close t’ understanding their pain if at all, let alone yours seeing that Ah am a male, just Big Macintosh, may he rest in peace as well. The postwar life has left weary and teary and the only things stopping me from ending it all are mah responsibilities t’ the people of Appleloosa, yer father’s tribe, mah surviving family, and yer son Chargestone. Little Chargestone Dreams’ still able t’ grow into a beautifully strong boy, despite what the doctors said ‘bout him; it’s actually tragic when people think ‘bout all the stories about children born through such circumstances and all: diseased, stillborn, miscarried, aborted, abandoned, shunned, abused, neglected, endangered, all at society’s leisure. Ah am grateful that he looks a lot like ya when we’d first met, even after all was said and done about it; it’s funny but here Ah am in maybe the hottest place in Equestria and yet somehow Ah feel like the luckiest man alive: most like and unlike many of us would’ve snapped from the heartbreak and leave behind a trail of blood, sweat, and tears. Even now, Ah worry about what’s been happening all around Equestria, especially Ponyville since Applejack is still there in the asylum; what they’ve done t’ us was an injustice many wouldn’t be so keen t’ forgive or forget, especially with so many survivors now on the cusp of sending a message t’ anyone most daring t’ try and fail, like many others before. Here’s t’ hoping we don’t find ourselves reliving the horrible memories of war ever again, lest we forget; ‘til then, Ah will see ya next time…”
After a few more crackles of lightning flashed across the seas of silver, he’d planted a nosegay upon the flourishing ground upon the stones instantaneously; soon, the scenery was scanned by the likes of himself. Of course, there was no other significance whatsoever to strike Braeburn’s glowing green eyes, especially considering his current location and the sole purpose thereof, not to mention the very precipitation there. In any case, it was time for the bright ginger to leave since there was nothing else more he could say or do for that matter; after all, the tasks at hand were cleared but the skies above were not as far as he could see.
As he’d attempted to depart from the ocean of stony lonesomes and the plants sticking out, the sight of another man had come in full view no less. Braeburn was quick to notice the differences between themselves: unlike him, the bystander was tall, dark, and gruesome altogether so to speak of. Considering the attire, it’d be safe to say that they’d have shared common ground, literally and figuratively; at least, it’s what many would’ve seen. Donning thicker clothes, the onlooker was unfazed by the bright ginger’s proximity, covered in darkness yet still in the light of day to still be seen.
Standing next to the bystander in black was a metal contraption lain out in the pouring rainstorm for Braeburn to also take note of so to speak of. With a balance of curves and angles in their proper places, most of the materials were colored in the world of midnight itself, despite the timing. In spite of all the moisture accumulating about, the surface area of the machine refused to yield, unlike the earth and all of its current bounties. The lights upon them were off, compared to the very electricity still flashing about throughout the firmament, not that any of the males cared. Looking glasses held firm against the rainwater due to the sizes, velocities, and textures alone, each drop beating against them before descent.
“So, I take that your delivery has been completed…?” the tall man had asked the bright ginger almost instantaneously so to speak of, lowly yet clear enough to be heard all the same as the latter nodded, “alright then, let’s return…”
“Thanks, Jayden…” Braeburn sighed plainly.
It didn’t take much for the bright ginger to approach the vehicular mechanism, opening the door and closing his umbrella before entering the confined space at once. Instantaneously, Braeburn was now put at ease with the humid yet dry interiors as the internal atmosphere became more freely flowing compared to his experience. In spite of the fact the heat was vaporizing the moisture clinging to the bright ginger’s body, he couldn’t help himself but to shed more tears than they’d been wiped. If the sight of those graves wasn’t enough to remind Braeburn of his solitude, then perhaps his very own reflection would’ve been moreso to increase his loneliness.
Nevertheless, the bright ginger found himself shunted off in an instant, hearing a slight rumble escape into the outside world as a flash of lightning blinded his eyes briefly; afterwards, he’d averted his gaze from the windowsill at once and stared at the wooden paneling holding the contraption together as its wheels were already into motion now. At long last, Braeburn had left the stones and trees behind as the falling rain beating against the hard surface area of the large machine resonated within his ears, each drop reminding him of the uniform temperature and textures alike when he was once staring at them with the same singular emotion upon his face only to have been imprinted all too soon. The bright ginger was apathetic to the growing population density throughout the drive, each varying in terms of whichever appearances and demeanors like and unlike himself and Jayden; this was a sign that the cold distance between start and finish was becoming finalized in their eyes, not that the former was in the mood to take pleasure alone. Even with the growing reality of having to exit the vehicular mechanism once more was firmly within the forefront of it all, Braeburn felt that the need to stay away from the outside world no matter how disconnected was to be satisfied at all costs, something in which many others would be more than happy to relate to irregardless of such background.
Soon enough, the bright ginger was faced with the sight of one building amongst many with the very area: it was a homestead free of stereo but otherwise brimming with life and liberty no less. Though there were some copious yields filled by a potentially golden harvest ripe for the taking, it was still barren, save for an abundance of crops drinking in the rainwater without any question. A wooden fence overlooking the tiny area had sat still on the solid ground, planted neatly all throughout the way as it’d kept all of the plants isolated from the little green house on the prairie. In close were a few trees standing nearby as they’d provided the home with food and aromas ready to be picked and chosen at the user’s leisure at any given time between now and onward. Nearby it all was one of the mountainsides lurking about without so much as a care, posing of little consequence to either individual present and accounted for, especially Braeburn most of all.
Speaking of which, the bright ginger had summoned all his regaining strength to climb right out of the metal contraption at once: carrying the umbrella out with him, his boots were reacquainted with the weight of the world resting about heavily on himself; one of the only cold comforts given was a wayward comment from its driver, “I’ll come see ya around, Braeburn…”
“Same here, Jayden…” the titular traveler talked tersely before the wheeled machine drove off again, this time leaving him behind to face the structure up in front of his weary green eyes, “well then, Ah guess it’s time already…”
A deep breath escaped from the bright ginger’s lips before he’d found himself reaching into his pocket to fish out a small goldenrod key; afterwards, both feet guided themselves towards the brown door where its knob had served as a mediator between both home and world. Almost immediately, he was all too quick to open the door and enter the building after sliding the metal in and out with a click between; now, he was safe and secure from the heavy weather still wreaking havoc upon the surface world and its inhabitants he’d made contact with. At the very least, Braeburn had wasted no time in immersing himself with the dimensions of this domicile in question, his jaded orbs instantaneously presented by a cyan background of wood all throughout its very confines from top to bottom as they’d held themselves together. Adorning the flooring was a thin carpet found in the epicenter of the floor nearest to the bright ginger’s boots, bearing the color and textures reminiscent to the green grass of home so much there were several curves and a few apples etched within the flatter surface darkly. All the windowsills in this very area had been accented by a pair of curtains as red as the apples themselves to the point of bearing the static patterning in which the sosaid fruit had been adorned despite all of them way too flat to even bear any density or taste within whatsoever. Adjacently towards him was a stony fireplace with its logs drier and more barren than the desert itself as far as he’d seen it recently, having already climbed between both the midnight cabinet and the burgundy sofa with pictures sitting on its shelves safely above the ground.
“Daddy’s home…!” was all that Braeburn could hear instantly, shrill yet masculine with all the youthfulness to differentiate between themselves.
At this present moment, a pair of footsteps were suddenly trailing off into the bright ginger’s direction in a matter of seconds: they’d belonged to a pair of tenants revealing themselves to be sharing the same gender as the entrant as far as he’d just seen; between the twosome alone, they were more different from each other as he was to them, much like how similar all the same too. The first of the inhabitants instantaneously greeting Braeburn was another tall adult whom also borne a brightly clear skinned complexion with eyes of starry sapphires and small brown hair, wearing a set of textiles consisting of an off–white undershirt and a true blue vest with a pair of ash gray khakis being held together with only a jet–black belt alongside with some beige loafers. The other was a shorter child with integuments fifty shades darker than either adult in or out of the household altogether no less: all of his very tresses were snow white, save for a few peachy highlights, each barely poking out of the surface of his scalp alone; the youth’s attire was just as uniform as the wearer’s eyes itself, red flannels covering the flesh to the sheer extremities alone.
It didn’t take much for Braeburn to return the favor, “hey guys, Ah am home; did any of y’all miss me…?”
“Who wouldn’t…?” the elder brunet had purred as the bright ginger took off his jet–black hat and hung it upon some short pole near the door, “howdy, Braeburn; how did your errands go for you…?”
“Same as usual; anyways, how was Silver Spoon lately: did she managed t’ stop by and visit ya lately, Silverstar…?” the eponymous entrant had replied as he’d turned to face them both again, this time with the former’s hair bared and dry for the twosome to see clearly as the present day itself.
The aforementioned tenant was quick to speak clearly at once, “not since last week I’m afraid, but I believe that one of her friends from Ponyville did: I think her name is Diamond Tiara and she was staying over at Miss Pinkamena’s apartment overnight in the meantime; anyways, it seems that she hasn’t been able to get in contact with her either. In any case, she said there was a letter she’d wanted to deliver personally since I’d last seen her; of course, I highly doubt that anyone with this much wealth in the family would want to go out there all alone for that reason.”
“Agreed… Ah bet that Applejack would’ve brought her friends over again like she’d done when they were delivering Bloomberg…” the bright ginger said before turning his gaze towards the singular youth with a gentle visage as the former had knelt down slowly, “how was school today, Chargestone: did ya make any friends yet…?”
“No, daddy, and I don’t want to go back tomorrow…” the titular tyro tersely talked timidly to Braeburn in a timely fashion.
It didn’t take much for the bright ginger to ask the highlighted youth, “why don’t ya want t’ return t’ school…?”
“It’s this schoolboy Painted Valleyfair: he has black teeth and calls me names; he even said that I have a gay dad just because I have no mom…” Chargestone had answered Braeburn immediately, the latter’s eyebrow furrowing about only ever so briefly so to speak of no less, “Mister Silverstar said I have to go back; please tell him not to make me…”
“Perhaps this should be enough t’ convince ya t’ continue: as much as everyone else hates this, school is very important and he’s right about it more than ya will ever come t' know soon enough; now, don’t ya worry ‘bout little Painted Valleyfair, ‘cause Ah talk t' the teacher tomorrow…” the bright ginger had said to the highlighted youth with comfort inside no less.
It didn’t take much for Chargestone to blurt out in an instant, “but he’s not little; he’s bigger than me…! He’d even made fun of my mom by saying she’s ‘a dirty squaw that sucks cocks in Tartarus, just like that naggy witch Chrysalis’…”
“WHAT?!” Braeburn choked out, turning away just in time to avoid coughing directly into the highlighted youth’s face; at this point, rather than being a normal person, he’d felt like having awoken in the body of a sleeping giant filled with a terrifying resolve, shaking about to and fro despite staying still, “Sheriff, please tell me this isn’t what had happened at school today…”
“I can’t, as a matter of fact, that was just the tip of the iceberg: the school nurse told me that he’d been taken to the clinic during lunchtime after throwing up on one of the students; she told me to take him straight on home in the meantime…” the lonely brunet softly sighed as he’d looked upon at Chargestone with a somber gaze so to speak of no less.
This was of little comfort to the bright ginger as he was still detached from the earthly plane of existence, barely hearing sounds from there before coming back around to ask Silverstar already, “Ah see then, what else did she say…?”
“She also said to watch him very carefully since his immune system is having a hard time fighting off the bug by itself…” the elder brunet answered immediately before walking past them to face the door Braeburn had arrived in not too long ago, “I’m gonna go to the pharmacy and see if they have any medicines for him to take; do you want anything from there, Braeburn…?”
“No, not at all…” was all that the bright ginger could say to Silverstar so to speak of all the while.
A full beat of silence had interceded between the three of them before the elder brunet broke it, “I’ll go and straighten this out with the schoolmaster just in case we meet in person; you have Chargestone back to yourself in the meantime: he needs all the help he can get and you’re the only one he happens to listen to as far as I can see it…”
“Ah know that, and Ah know the reason all too well…” Braeburn whispered listlessly as he’d handed the umbrella over to Silverstar without resistance, “ya go on ahead…”
“Last chance: you still want anything from there…?” the elder brunet had asked before opening the door to face the ongoing storm no less.
The bright ginger turned to face Silverstar again and had replied, “no, nothing for me; just get him some of the medicine…”
“Daddy, is there something wrong…?” the highlighted youth asked Braeburn with little hesitation whatsoever, walking right over to the latter’s side slowly, “you’re acting a bit weird… please stop…”
“Sorry, it’s been a long day anyway, Ah should go get some sleep; speaking of which, Ah think it’s about time for you t' go t' bed…” the bright ginger talked, finding the strength to stand back up and carrying Chargestone around behind the former’s back.
Although the impulse to climb on had been embraced instantaneously, the highlighted youth had chirped quickly, “but I’m not tired, daddy…”
“Ya will be soon enough; kids these days need all the sleep they can get and ya need it more than anybody else does: I guarantee it…” Braeburn chucked demurely to Chargestone, now carrying the latter away from the elder brunet whom had started heading out of the door in a matter of seconds no less.
Before shutting the door, Silverstar grunted softly, “in any case, I’ll be back within thirty minutes or less: it’s probably nothing to worry about, for the most part; goodbye…”
“Bye…” the bright ginger said to the elder brunet as the highlighted youth was now left in the company of the former no less, “it’s been about seven years since he came into this world as a reject: they look into these eyes then they see the size of the flames; dwelling on the past has been burning on my brain and everyone that burned had to learn from the pain. I think about the day I’d seen Little Strongheart again, too spaced out to realize how wet and messy she and the others were when they found her at the Cavern no less; she was so young and so innocent, how could anyone ever even dare to take advantage of her like that, using and abusing her like some soiled dove and of the chief’s tribe no less?! I know of the histories in which indigenous populations had met gruesome fates here and there, especially before Grogar came along to Equestria; one would think that after all these years, the least we can do is come to an understanding and share the prosperity like friends should, but I guess it was all a lie. It was one thing to use the war as an excuse to sow the seeds of destruction, whether as a preemptive strike or in massive retaliation; tribes or no, I’d never thought that she would be passed around like some bag of popcorn in a movie theater, let alone at such an age. The real tragedy is if it hadn’t been for this damned war, then she would’ve been still alive, happy and healthy like all the others; of course, what did I honestly hope to expect: her illnesses to clear up even after having been taken one ride too many like every other girl like and unlike her?! They may as well could’ve ended her, just like all the other tribesmen they’d shot and/or strung up, but no, they just had to suffer the worst of fates; women and children being sold away as slaves here and abroad to the highest of bidders, all to destroy them and for what reason: pure profit, simple superiority, or the fact these tribes were standing in the way of rapid progress?! If they’d thought they could control the survivors through sex, drugs, and violence, then I don’t think how it would work with the military; this world has spent far too much of its lifetime fighting and killing, all the while leaving behind widows and orphans as well as kids like Chargestone born in the same place to be hurt as their parents were hurt. We need to do right by these kids and the best way to do it is to remember the legacy of the Princesses, especially Cadance of all people no less; I know for a fact had she lived, she would’ve loved to see more happier and long–lasting marriages: I already know far too well who I would’ve been married to had Strongheart lived but that’s neither here nor there. All that matters now is making sure that he gets the best life worth living just as much as any other child, healthy and otherwise; after all, it’s what she would’ve wanted, even knowing what these monsters in peoples’ clothing had done to her at the end of the day: I know that Granny Smith isn’t alive anymore after what happened, but even she wouldn’t go down without a fight.”
The beating of rainwater continued outside their more or less bittersweet symphony of a home as Braeburn shed yet another tear, lost in his own thoughts but found to be in the process of walking up the stairs with Chargestone in tow, still unaware of what was going on within the former’s mind overall so to speak of.

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                           Bonus                           
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Author's Note
It's Fireflower again with the sixth installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic going beyond the typical oneshots I'd made from before and already using canon characters as human beings instead of their normal forms; however, this is nonetheless a Mature fimfic for this chapter here will deal with certain subject matters considered unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated.
In addition, I'd like to take this time to inform you this chapter's also only a nightmare but it can and will bring shock, awe, and outrage out of you in ways too horrible to imagine so it's with a generous heart and mind that yours truly has uploaded another chapter after this as well on the same day no less: for those of you amongst themselves wishing to skip ahead, please do so; I promise, it'll help calm your nerves a bit for the most part.
In any case, the views and opinions expressed by any and all personnel in the story, fictional and otherwise, don't reflect those of the writer in question: as such, the good people of Hasbro and Fimfiction, past and present as well as yours truly don't condone the act of real life hate crimes in any shape of form whatsoever; besides, even Angel Cop sucks balls because the writer, Sho Aikawa sucks balls.
Bonus
There was a complete absence of light currently dominating the very environment, all shrouded in mystery and suspense which had relied consistently on the element of uncertainty at large. While here had already remained a stark likelihood of loneliness filling the oxygen itself at once, the atmosphere was more than enough to clear out within due time for one reason or another. Additionally, even at least a few clues were presently providing some semblance of substance in which was instantaneously dwelling inside even with the lack of a solid terrain, let alone earth.
“Applejack…!” a loud gasp was emitted right from there, creating an anomaly that had given such a darkness one resemblance of life whatsoever: a suddenly new voice being nothing more than ragged panting and wheezing from between intervals; before long, the haphazard breathing had soon quieted itself down into stabilization almost immediately within due time so to speak.
In its very place was the shuffling about in a somewhat reckless abandonment, each and every move making contact with the small dimensional boundaries surrounding the whole time no less. Next were the sounds of kicking about being muffled and muted upon contact all within itself, perhaps every decibel from the very noise pollution greatly reduced almost rather completely. Then, there had appeared to be fabric finding itself; without warning, footfalls had begun tapping onto the floor, its surface being a whole different story compared to all of the walls closing in. All that had remained was a faint snuffle from the occupant, a small snort or two notwithstanding as the oxygen all throughout had instantaneously gotten sucked into its very nostrils only gently. Suddenly, a loud plop made itself known, resounding against the hard floor surface as the silent voice metamorphosed into a scream, ghastly as it were but rather interrupted by choking fluids.
A small diagonal path had made its way through, another joining it to keep the frenzied tenant company: small beams of light peering from the windowsill, a gateway that was high like a kite. Speaking of which, the firmament’s color had also contributed to the very light in and of itself, creating a diminutive glimpse of the external surroundings that were just beyond the four walls. The sun resided in there as well too, only for that source of illumination to become instantly swallowed up by the circumnavigating clouds dispensing the rain with some rumbles of thunder. The scarcity of brightness gave it some bit worthy of color: linings of silver chariot and star platinum requiem banding together to deliver a downpour of achromatic fluids in so many drops. Touching the flooring, it’d revealed its surface to be that of a patch of white tainted by the vocal majority of darkness, its circle bearing a square tile as it glistened and gleamed out of all others. If one were to look inside of the segmented photons rather closely, then it’d become perhaps possible to see magnificent mysteries ready to be solved at once by anyone from all walks of life.
Soon, a shadow appeared form within the jet–black void, obscuring what little light from the outside without even a care in the whole wide world: it’d the shape of feet and its skin possessed the color and texture of the palest goldenrod; slowly, their owner had trudged to it in a moment. A small set of gilded locks had made its way from the very darkness as these tresses reflected the very rays of light that were still peering from the stormclouds which had obscured the skyward treasure from about as they’d reached to the nape of the neck with only a few strands touching it. Turning around to face them already at once had revealed but a pair of emerald orbs circling about the pupils, thin brows instantaneously furrowed into slanted inclines as they were forming that of an edgy and downward concave of confusion and delay all coexisting in a fragile balance. The observer’s face was masculine, possessing a clear complexion that was filled with nothing but wear and tear across the moisten cheeks, a uniform commonality found all throughout the rest of the integumentary system as beads of liquid trailed from the corners without hesitation. Draped over most of the body was a white ensemble of clothing upon him: on one layer was only a thick gown which was so long it’d managed to cover up both arms and reached over past the kneecaps completely; the other outermost layer was a straitjacket holding both arms behind him.
The man had squirmed about towards the light; surrounding it all while he’d looked over with a weary gaze in his emerald eyes. He’d sniffled silently again as they became easily flooded with little warning whatsoever before shutting themselves both away. The man had coughed and choked between intervals before the tears fell onto the floor, staying solely into place suffice to say. Aside from the beams being him natural guide, the warmth also kept the tenant company even though he was seeing darkness.
Just as the man had felt alone in the whole wide world with only his strained breathing, a new sound permeated throughout the dulled atmosphere: the erratic ringing of metal rapidly clanging against another resounded within both eardrums; suddenly, the echo had quickly subsided. As if on cue, he’d turned his green eyes to the partition away from his head as the lights came on instantaneously, revealing the dark secret dimensions of his confines where he looked on ahead at the doorway out of expectation for some other individual to appear afore himself at once. Both of the man’s ears currently had stood on endwise as a small series of footfalls were echoing about, its sound being of softened fabric treading lightly against the hard flooring coming from outside the checkered room that he was already within now, preparing for the lone visitor. Needless to say, he’d remained slouched upon the very flooring underneath himself at once, the only light from the egress becoming instantaneously obscured as the outsider’s footsteps were currently being replaced by the likes of thin metal scraping in a refrained legato of jingles.
Sure enough, the crack in the door had started to grow wide a bit within a second as both of the man’s ears wriggled about, greeted by a curt voice already entering them almost instantaneously, “rise and shine, pardner…”
“Huh…?” he’d groaned, regaining the strength to back away from the very door already at once, “what’s going on…?”
“Oh, it’s nothing t’ worry about really: we’re just going t’ the movies, that’s all…” the visitor croaked a bit gently, stepping in to face the man within only seconds.
At this moment in time, he was now in the presence of another figure, the latter having possessed a shadow that had overtaken the former’s body. The man was able to find that he and the visitor had shared one thing in common: their faces had possessed the same gender upon them thereof. Nevertheless, the two individuals whom were present had many considerable differences that had already separated each other instantaneously.
The figure in question whom had arrived to take sight had stood high and rarefied, the source of the shadow’s dimensions in which the latter was made aware of. Unlike the ginger’s hair which was out and about, the visitor happened to possess no signs of any tresses whatsoever, thanks to a yellow helmet now being worn. Eyes belonging to the lanky individual were being hidden by a pair of jet–black goggles; both its crimson lenses were already focused onto the prostrate occupant. The observant visitor had a much brighter complexion, one that was as rather clear compared to the skies bearing the shine in the storm present and accounted for. Compared to the ginger’s attire, the lanky individual wore a blue shirt underneath a set of brown overalls and boots; also, a pair of orange gloves was found too.
Seeing the lone visitor in question appearing had made the occupant spit out within a mere second, “who are ya?!”
“Mah name is Dr. Ravenholm: Ah am Dr. Mirepoix’s assistant; with yer permission, Ah will just give ya the usual brief overall examination…” the lanky individual introduced himself to the ginger instantaneously, taking out a stethoscope from the right pocket gently, “we must make sure yer quite fit, mustn’t we? Yes indeed, we must.”
“What exactly is it that yer going t’ do…?” the lone occupant shivered as the resonator was sent down his back, courtesy of the titular doctor.
While listening to some subtle respirations, the lanky individual answered the ginger instantly, “oh, it’s quite simple really: we just show ya some films…”
“Films…?” the lone occupant choked out as Ravenholm retracted the tool from the former’s back almost immediately, “you mean like one of those theaters in cities like Ponyville and Appleloosa...?”
“Yes, they’ll be special films, very special and you’ll be having the first session soon enough; ya seem t' be quite a fit young man, a bit undernourished perhaps but that’s the fault of yer diet: after every meal, we shall be giving you a shot in the arm that should help ya stay fit…” the lanky doctor answered as he’d helped the ginger up to his own two feet in the very meantime.
While being guided out from the simple and sterile spot from the stounds, the restrained individual was quick to ask, “like vitamins…?”
“Something like that, just a jab in the arm after every meal; of course, first things first, the film then breakfast, dear Braeburn…” Ravenholm replied as he’d closed the door right behind them, catching the eponymous tenant off–guard with little warning, “Ah am pretty sure that the last thing we need is for ya t' get sick and make a mess of things should we feed ya first instead…”
“Why…?” was all that the ginger could even say.
Before long, Braeburn found himself sat down in a wheelchair by the likes of the doctor whom had said to the former, “let’s just say this is t' help ya get readjusted t' the real world; yer here t' be rehabilitated by a process that the government has paid me and Mirepoix t' develop: should ya succeed, you’ll be most likely t' be released and from the looks of it, ya will. Our tests have shown that ya have a high intelligence quotient: managed t' become a highly famous sharpshooter in the war; have ya ever been interested in joining the Royal Guard prior…?”
“No, not at all…” the highlighted ginger had spoken up, even as he was being strapped tightly amongst the apparatus, “Ah couldn’t stand t' see people getting killed, not anymore…”
“And why is that: young love, high morals, some dark secret you don’t want others t' know about…?” Ravenholm purred graciously.
Braeburn made a break for a response, “what secrets…?”
“Here’s the thing: the whole world has been getting pretty aware of all the smelly perverts and hardened criminals hiding about…” the lanky doctor had instantaneously snarled at the highlighted ginger with so much as little warning whatsoever so to speak of, “ever since the war ended, all that had t' be done was t' find, capture, and punish the troublemakers here and there. We had a meeting up there a few years back: me, Mirepoix, Volks, Dolce, Grey, quite a few others; the consensus was that ya weren’t doing a good thing for the family name, yer town, or even the Crown and Country themselves so they chose me t' come down here and maybe take a little of the shine off of yer pants. We see people like ya week after week, killing off this guy and that guy, capturing that bushwhacker and rustler but all the time, in defiance of yer tastes: you’re as queer as a clockwork orange that’s ever been wound up in all of Equestria so me and my friends, well we’ve figured maybe now’s the time ya land a girl; after all, we know that ya did it for her.”
“Excuse me?!” Braeburn exclaimed instantly.
It didn’t take much for Ravenholm to elaborate, “oh please, we know all about yer precious son, Chargestone, except he’s not yer son; he’s the offspring of many trysts had with his mother, Little Strongheart, something that many like and unlike her know all too well: even yer master and commander Silverstar knows this and he’s too busy letting ya be his little bedwarmer…”
“How much do ya know about her; as a matter of fact, what of mah boy: where is he?!” the highlighted ginger barked at the lanky doctor, the fire within the former becoming stoked, “what the fuck have ya done with mah little Chargestone?!”
“He’s safe, if that’s what you’re implying: a loving couple have agreed t' look after his well–being in the meantime…” Ravenholm had only answered calmly, even as Braeburn was burning brightly before the former’s hidden eyes so to speak, “of course, it’s only temporary if ya do as we say; after all, we can’t have people thinking it’s okay for kids t' be raised in such homes…”
“What are ya talking about…?” the highlighted ginger had snarled, struggling to escape from the wheelchair but to no avail.
The lanky doctor smiled big in defiance, returning to the calm demeanor once embodied not too long ago so to speak of, “it should be obvious: same–sex couples have been nothing more than a drain on society ever since the dawn of time itself, spreading their diseases t' and fro like there’s no tomorrow, something that Princesses know all too well but do little whatsoever about it. Originally, people started complaining about how all the Trowans bringing their gayness all over t' Equestria with them back then: of course, it’d make sense being that the expedition was headed by those faggots, Commander Hurricane and Private Pansy no less; however, we’ve come t' learn that it’s a universal problem affecting all of us and not just in here t' be honest. Apparently, many of past societies that were most unlike them and Equestria had a very good idea on what t' do with the gays: burying, burning, hanging, drowning, stoning, dismembering, electrocuting, strangling, freezing, crushing, shooting, and stabbing; of course, they’d only saved it for adults but not the kids, of course, not that it’d stopped them from even trying nevertheless. That being said, this pathetic obsession with making it too fashionable t' be gay in open society is making a lot of people sick: it’s bad enough that Princess Celestia has done little whatsoever t' solve all the problems from this gender demographic crisis; even now, it seems the only things that have changed were all the outsiders coming t' Equestria all because they can take them in. In any case, it’d make since because of all the women fooling around with each other on the account of outnumbering men; still, the fact that we’ve had t' deal with all these men having sex with other men was rather more disgusting by comparison: ya may have fooled yer relatives into thinking you’re on the straight and narrow but the reality is more complicated t' us. Even though you’d wanted nothing more than t' have a wife of yer own t' carry on the family legacy, ya couldn’t resist it: the only reason ya were left alone was because of yer cousin’s status as the Bearer of Honesty but even that’s not enough; now that yer family has been left in disarray, it’s time for ya t' carry on the namesake as a normal heterosexual Equestrian no less. Perhaps it’s tragic that the apple of your eye, pun intended, has been left t' rot and die thanks t' the crimes of yer peers years ago but Ah am sure with the right cards, you’ll go on back t' normal: at the very least, you’ll have a wife t' carry on the family name and some children t' pass the legacy as well from generation t' generation, just like so many others before people like ya…”
“Why all this then?!” Braeburn interjected, stopping Ravenholm in the tracks but unable to derail the line of thoughts going on the latter’s mind so to speak of, “Ah am not gay and even if Ah was, no one would’ve had a problem with me anyway; Ah like women, it’s just that Ah had a hard time moving on since Strongheart had died. Ah don’t know what my life would’ve been like if Ah hadn’t even met her or got t' know her at all; what Ah do know is that if it hadn’t been for this war, then Ah would’ve liked nothing more than t' be her husband and provider. Growing up on Sweet Apple Acres, Ah couldn’t always escape the shadow of mah own cousin, Big Macintosh: being the strong, silent type meant not getting in touch with his feelings, much less with anyone not like us or in our family; he always did what he had t' do t' keep this family farm and name going, even more so since his parents passed away. Speaking of which, ever since my own dad, Celebrity Timepiece, passed away, Ah always felt pressured t' carry on his legacy: since he was named after one of our vice admirals, mah mother, Wholesome Wave, wanted from me nothing more than mah best; of course, it’d seem that no matter how hard Ah tried, Ah never escaped the high costs of high standards, forcing me t' flee. Ah found mah way over t' Appleloosa, about a decade ago, a small town deep in the middle of Equestria, deeper than Ponyville; contrary t' what many had thought about us, Ah was born and raised in Canterlot, having been t' one of their schools as a teenager: of course, mah mannerism were what had tipped off upperclassmen easily, especially considering Hayseed Turnip Truck. If there was one thing Ah wished t' do with mah life, then it'd be figuring out how t' be keeping up with the housing bills; on the other hand, it was probably for the best Ah left the capital when Ah first gotten the chance, especially knowing what happened: Ah still can’t believe my ears as t' what had been done t' all the folks, including the Princess’ niece Cadance herself. Ah already accepted the fact that with the threat of war on the horizon, we Apples had t' do our part per Equestria’s expectations; however, what Ah couldn’t accept was how our services and contributions were repaid, not by the Princess but by others so t' speak: Granny Smith killed, Applejack raped and beaten, Apple Bloom sold into slavery, and so many others like them. We had nothing but each other due t' our sheer size alone and they were torn apart like they were nothing but tissue paper no less; at the very least, it’d made me open my eyes as t' what had been done t' Little Strongheart and her tribe during the whole war: Chargestone Dreams is nothing more than a product of what his mother in particular had gone through since those days. Ah knew for a fact that her tribe wouldn’t accept him because of what they'd done t' her, especially since she’d died giving birth: the fact all these diseases wreaking havoc upon the body also meant the child wouldn’t live long either, something they knew; nevertheless, Ah swore t' mahself that he was going t' have a normal childhood, no matter what the fuck they'd say or do…!”
“Then, Ah suppose ya don’t mind the shot’s countermeasures: we were really hoping that you’d be cooperative so ya can see him again but Ah guess this was never meant t' be; you’re an embarrassment from a bygone era, our country’s dirty little secret unworthy t' live no less…” the lanky doctor had hissed before going behind the highlighted ginger almost instantaneously.
It didn’t take much for Braeburn to shake to and fro, his flesh resonating against the restraints: afterwards, his vision had became blurry as the minimalistic colors blended in with each other; soon, a sharp nerve was struck deeply into his chest as he’d soon let out a bloodcurdling scream, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Following this were the sounds of silence from had used to be the highlighted ginger himself, alone and abandoned as his head had tilted downward with both eyes devoid of the lusters of life; bulging and spreaded apart, the face was filled with so much curvatures and imprinting, it was as if it’d passed himself by but the technicolors thereof had still remained all the same nevertheless.

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                          Science                          
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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.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                           Magic                           
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Magic
Night had fallen over the neighborhood at some point in time, judging from the abundance of stars and stripes scattering across the blue sky to forever as if time was a nonissue so to speak of. Even so, not much else had changed anyway, aside from the abundance of lights adorning the skyscrapers in the distance as the green grass blows in the wind, dancing a waltz unheard by all. Of course, this was of no consequence for the tenants taking shelter from the fog and its cold grip on the afflicted area in question as it would be a much better sight at least with one and another. Nevertheless, all was calm and peaceful as far as there was much interest and/or concern to any other observers overall, which is to say none when it’d came to the very inhabitants in general.
One of the houses in particular was all the same by virtue of darkness permeating about no less; of course, there was one exception lying inside. A pair of glass doors found to be serving as windows to the outside world had acted as proof of whatever anomalous materials present in action. Illuminating the area in question, there was a sense of whiteness devoid of flavor and scent alike, betraying the plant with its pictures and shelves. Even though a gangling light fixture stood up in the corner, the actual low coverage alone was inconsistent enough to serve as proof of inaction. Nevertheless, the photons within the conical range had revealed an abundance of carpeting, most of which emerald splashed yet otherwise tanned. There was a slender jet–black machine taking refuge upon the surface area of its own shelf, the thinnest screen reminiscent of raging blizzards. Standing in the midst of it all was some furniture nearby a table and a drawer with another lamp: a singular blue chair and a wide malachite couch.
Resting onto the soft fabric was Rick himself, donning the same attire from before as he was now fast asleep, taking up much of its maximum space. Here, the elderly man was all by his lonesome this time around, much like earlier at some other point in daytime when his face stared at the screen. Of course, his eyes were closed as they were still in the pathway of the lone electronic’s point of view, despite the sheer lack of color up on display.
It didn’t even take much for Rick to wake up, knocking over a stray empty bottle on the floor in the process when it was time to sit up straight as an arrow when its bowstring flew out at dark.
“The living room, I don’t remember being in here; as a matter of fact, what happened to the receiver: did Morty take it out of there while I was knocked out…?” the elderly man stammered about as he was currently rubbing the sides of his own forehead in confusion and delay at the surroundings in question so to speak of.
Still, he’d discovered the strength to take a stand, finding a small interface resting on the arm of the chair nearby as he’d went to it instantaneously only to hear some words, “but he could not choose…”
“Excuse me?!” Rick heaved outraged, looking around with narrowed eyelids in a brief yet frantic search only to be reminded of his loneliness immediately, “yeah, that’s what I’d actually thought, bitch…”
“Uncle Ricky, could you read us a bedtime story, please, huh, please…?” a shrill maidenly voice escaped into the elderly man’s ears, this time coming from the active contraption as the wave of static mesh formed a scene of four dark skinned individuals against some statues in a nightly background, evidenced by a majority of them already inside a bed wearing pajamas all the while. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjNTu8jdukA)
This made the brighter viewer cross as the airwaves blared cleanly a bassline accented by brass and drums with keys played in a simplistic yet mnemonic manner so to speak of, grumbling on, “goddammit, what the hell is wrong with this TV: I’d thought that this was the off button, not the change the channel buttons; why won’t it shut off?!”
“Hey, stay right where you are…!” another masculine voice barked, this time also from the aforementioned machine as it showed a much younger and lighter person donning a clash of reds and blues with monochromatic accents scowling, “don’t take this the wrong way I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice guy, but if you keep skulkin’ around this plane, I’ll have to gun your ass down!” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=av2knCblVlk)
“What is this shit: I maybe an anime fan but I don’t have time for it now; can you please shut off now?!” Rick screamed indignantly as he pressed the button again in the hopes of ending the frustration; of course, given what his midnight eyes were now treated to, this had also fallen on deaf ears.
[The subjects onscreen were two bearded yet young men staring fiercely at each other wearing cold colored clothes but different: the one with his face currently on display was dark skinned, bearing brightly blue yet wearing a snow–white skullcap altogether; opposite was another brighter counterpart dress in light olive with a receding hairline taking up a third of the space.   
Of the twosome, the colder person said, “no it’s not because even the best prison wouldn’t be good enough; I’m gonna try one more time with you, McManus: not, I am not saying that the men in Oz are innocent, I am saying they are not here because of the crimes that they committed, but because of the color of their skin, the lack of education, the fact that they are poor. You see, this riot is not about getting smoking back, conjugal rights, it’s not even about life in prison: it’s about society taking responsibility, it’s about the whole horrid judicial system and we don’t need more prisons, bigger prisons, better prisons, we need better justice; now, what can you do about that?”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Jwr6Zin9HU)
“Oh, jeez, just what I needed: another poor oppressed libtards whinging and complaining about law and order like everyone else…” the elderly man had spat out as the warmer listener quickly gave out a rebuttal after taking in a deep breath so to speak of no less, “I just want some peace and quiet for once, not some jailhouse lectures from these cable companies’ characters…!”
“Discord… show yourself…!” another feminine voice snorted, this time more matronly and mild despite the anger as the window showed an indignant white alicorn with elongated multicolored tresses of blue, purple, pink, and aqua wearing gilded jewelry from head to hoof alongside with a golden sun crafted directly onto her flanks. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_aPpmU7NQzE)
As far as the brighter viewer can see, he, too, was angry, albeit even more so than the regal royal herself, his face no different than a red hot chili pepper as he’d gotten more frantic with shouting, “what the fuck is going on: is this some dirty trick some bastard’s playing on me; who did this crap?!”
“In the year 845, two terrifying new breeds of Titan appeared: the Colossal and the Armored, barreling through the outer walls as if wholesale destruction was child’s play…” whispered a calm masculine voice with somberness as the sight of giants had entered Rick’s viewpoint, “the territory couched within the circle of Wall Maria was abandoned. Twenty percent of the human race perished; as the Titan onslaught advanced, our only choice was to withdraw behind Wall Rose. In the year 850, the Colossal Titan again appeared and decimated yet another barrier between us and them: once more, mankind retreated in panic before the advance of its greatest foe; brave soul after brave soul perished, eaten alive…” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHwJJ0bRdGU)
“WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF PLAN IS THIS I’VE SEEN?!” the elderly man screamed loud enough for its soundwaves to threaten the stability of the household he was still in nevertheless.
At long last, he’d gotten one answer to said question out of perhaps many presently in the form of a familiar face so to speak of: the new man onscreen was none other than himself so identical to a fault in appearance and voice alike the former’s blood chilled; still, the only difference that sat them apart was the latter had a jet–black shirt, dark circles below eyes, and a scar down lips.
Rick was at a loss of words regarding his double and the attempts to speak were cut across by the latter in an instant no less overall, “a distraction for the lack of a better term; of course, this is kind of disappointing so to speak of: all the other Ricks put up a much better fight but you’d gone soft for your age, so weak and distracted…”
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU: WHY ARE YOU LIKE ME; WHERE ARE YOU?!” the viewing tenant barked as he’d kept pressing the buttons but to no avail as far as either elder can see, “GET OUT OF THE TV, YOU GODDAMNED CUNTFUCK…!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Rick: we need your grandson and we can’t let you be in the way much longer; besides, the fact that the two of you are all alone just makes the whole thing much easier for the both of us, not you though, just to be clear…” his darker correspondent had answered snidely as he’d felt something searing hot travel through the left leg almost instantaneously.
The titular target found himself falling back down, this time upon the floor as he’d struggled to look up at the contrivance with froth building up within his rant, “OH, FUCK YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH; I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU FOR THIS: I’LL SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS TRACKING YOU DOWN! I WILL FIND YOU SO FAST YOU’LL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN; YOU BETTER HOPE TO GOD THAT I WON’T END YOUR MISERABLE LIFE FOR THIS PRANK!”
“I already took care of that, you poor, unfortunate soul: this prank as you’d called it’s more than just for show, like the ν Gundam…” the spectator on display retorted with a laugh as his viewer was writhing about with a puddle of crimson appeared under the leg, “after all, Ricks never go off and work alone when it comes to reaching our goals together, wouldn’t you agree, Prez…?”
“Morty?!” the injured elder spat out immediately.
Sure enough, another male made an appearance before the corporeal Rick, much younger like the ones on the television but much shorter anyway. Unlike either of the elders in question, Morty’s complexion was much more brighter, absolutely showing no signs of wear and/or tear altogether. The younger individual had borne short hair all straight and round in the shape of a circle without any sort of loose ends whatsoever nevertheless. Morty’s attire had consisted of a little yellow shirt, some midnight jeans, white sneakers, and an eyepatch over his right for Rick to see clearly. A remaining eye belonging to the same younger individual was icy and dicey in terms of color and composure, freezing the wounded elder fast.
With a smile upon the visage, Morty was quick to reply to Rick at once, “that’s President Morty to you: I’d expected you to show some respect, then again between America’s buffoons and their enemies’ frustrations, you’d ran out of it all long time ago; speaking of which, how long has it been since you two had left your own homeworld – fortnights, months, seasons, years even…? It doesn’t matter anyway, I’d already won the election years ago and it was all thanks to a stupid Morty who couldn’t even shoot straight to save a life: funny, had he’d been able to take some target practice at the arcades back then, he may as well would’ve succeeded in thwarting my career altogether. Ever since then, we’ve made so many changes, big ones at that: no more rogue Mortys forming gangs, no more Ricks hoarding all technology, no more isolating ourselves from enemies, no more state–sponsored international terrorism, no more freeway killers running amok, like before. In 1999 AD, the world was gripped in peril as fears of the new millennium were bubbling up to the surface like some dead bodies: even with the finest of programmers taking initiative to prevent whatever could crash and burn, not all were successful as hoped; of course, you and I were already aware of it considering the fact there were other dimensions where the world ended. What we’d also known was so many governments on the Planet Earth and beyond, past and present, had so little care for its subjects they were willing to sacrifice many to save themselves; they’re no better than a company that makes such shortsighted decisions on a regular daily basis, up to and including canceling popular shows at best to bombing enormous metropolises at worst. Perhaps if the cabals are going to be that foolish with the lives, liberties, happiness, and equalities of the common individual, then I guess the least we can do is become the consequences of their mortal follies, up to and including spending a bunch of money making sapient animatronics that can double as powered armor on and off the battlefield altogether. One animatronic alone would probably cost up to sixty thousand dollars to make in America with all the gadgets and gizmos: even then, they’d most likely be combat oriented, which would’ve been fine alone if that bastard of a man in room 1280 stopped; of course, as one of the hippopotamuses in purple had said before to that wretched fuck, ‘that’s neither here nor there’. In any case, I may as well take my sweet time extracting all this knowledge from you and your Morty just as I’d planned earlier: you may not even be the very same Rick I knew that had abandoned me so long ago but your face is as good as his all the same; after all, they’re all the same in temperament as far as I can see it clearly in their miserable, stinking faces since then. At the very least, it’ll make the citadel strong enough to not only protect itself from all threats, but to protect anyone in need: no more will any and all life within our reach live in fear of having their existence being compromised by mere elitists; besides, every dimension we’d been to has been growing sick and tired of people running things into the ground and fleeing the wreckage.”
“So now you want to do the same like you’re any better than us; you’re just like twat Bush: an idiot who couldn’t tell one land from another…!” the elder tenant coughed out even with the revelation that the younger invader was carrying a firearm in the left hand firmly for both to see, “as far as I see it, that rap artist has better hope of becoming President, unlike you, murderer…! All the politicians in the entire dimension as well as this one couldn’t carry a tune to save a life, much less spare one if at all; what makes you even think that you’ll be any better than these conniving fuckfaces hither and yon around the same planet: strength, perception, endurance, charisma, intelligence, agility, luck?! Don’t make me laugh, brat, you’re alone like me, running against the quantum wind so that no one else will ever mold you: every country on the globe claims to be the greatest yet their systems set up are to prevent people like us from being elected; even now, rigging elections are far too easier in this day and age with everything being online for anyone to see, not just Putin! Even now, all the wars, terrorists, and rebellions plaguing Earth are just sad pathetic reminders of how little has changed since: you could be the next Leonardo da Vinci of the modern age and people will still go and turn your inventions into war machines; the dark age was just an understatement compared to what I’d seen over the years, with and without some doppelgangers! Basically, it’s in our own species’ nature to exploit others for the sake of such egocentric benefit, something many beasts relate: fucking, consuming, hoarding, raging, slacking, boasting, and coveting whoever and whatever is wanted on a constant basis; all these elitists thinking that they’re running the show act like they’re gonna live forever as if they cannot even bleed at all! At the very least, we can choose to bounce the checks and maintain the balance, nobody’s even daring to deny that reality alone: it’s in nature for harmony to prevail in the long run when it comes to keeping itself in check, with and without the people; nevertheless, remember what Friedrich said about fighting monsters in the abyss hundreds of years ago, you little madman! You’re mixing up man with machine as if fusing them together is gonna make up for the fact your Rick had abandoned you: whatever revenge scheme you’d concocted against him and/or the world isn’t gonna make people like or feel for you at all; even if you get everything you’d ever wanted this way, the entire race as well as other lifeforms aren’t going to be too happy about it! Besides, even if we’re the same, not every Rick is like that and you know it, he knows it, and my Morty knows it all the same: in our case, we’re just two out of one too many anomalies crafted up by the inner machinations built by a madman’s dream; even I know this is just a dream and yet what happened to me still hurts like a motherfucker which is saying something overall! You don’t even have the guts to do what I have to do to survive since you still rely on a Rick like every other Morty in the multiverse; even now, without all your pretty technologies and tactics, you’re just another infantile, masturbatory wuss who couldn’t last a first date with some other redhead: not Jessica, not Stacy, not Jacqueline, not Stella, and certainly not Tag–A–Long…!”
“So many names to learn, so little time to remember: perhaps, that’s something of a forethought on the fly and you’d accused me of being obsessed; either way, it doesn’t matter altogether…” Morty wistfully uttered as he’d went over to Rick carefully with the weapon firmly in tow no less.
It didn’t take long for the elder tenant to feel some pressure being applied abruptly, no doubt the work of the younger invader whom had stomped on the wounded leg to hear the former scream loudly, “AHH, YOU MOTHERFUCKING TWAT!”
“What’s the matter, Rick: don’t like having to be powerless or dying outright; how does it feel, you drunken deadass dotard?!” Morty snickered to his eponymous victim before firing his handgun into the other leg, much to the latter’s growing discomfort, “I bet that it sucks but it’s too damn bad, you cyanic fuck, because this is what I’d always felt thanks to you, asshole! It was one thing to bail on your own family since your youngest grandson was born but bailing on me twice after returning home within a span of over such a miserable decade crossed the line: the shit I’d gone through since that fucking day made me realize why I couldn’t even remember any good memories with you, let alone any at all before I’d seen you again no less! You make that fucking roboticist look like a joke – at least he’d admitted fearing that he’d end up hating his own son had they lived together; you make that goddamned teacher look like a joke – you know what he did to his own wife and kids yet they could’ve been saved! This is how their loved ones felt when their men abandoned them to who knows what had happened next: that boy grew up to be a spineless warrior who kept seeing himself as a coward no matter how many he’d slain; those two children lost a mother and their innocence trying to save her while their dad went out doing fuck all! If they’d seen what you’d done to my family, then they’d have wanted nothing more to do with you; hell, anyone of sound mind and stable heart would’ve called the police and take you away for good: teachers, students, preachers, congregates, protesters, dissenters, fighters, peacekeepers, even Putin! Of course, we can’t rely on the help of others all the time even when we can make the time to do so: that shit will make us weaker than newborns and they have all the strength in their hands to hold stuff in; I should know this because that’s what it was like before you ever even did this shit to me of all people! I’ve already accepted the fact that we live in the cruel sick world because of people like you; what I can’t accept is your choice to abandon me to save your worthless ass from those frogs: I’d almost died because of their stomach acids and you’re scared of me now for having to choose you?! You and every other Rick throughout the multiverse were always a couple of twats when it’d came to the gay science but now that your lying down on the ground, you may as well be getting what you fucking deserve as far as anyone else is concerned and not just for what you did to all of us! C. S. Lewis once said, ‘if we desire the devil’s job, we better be ready for his wages’, something you have no problem fulfilling: after all, Ricks like yourself have chosen to be acting like a real McAsshole to everyone, even to your own friends and family; who would even cry for you after all the pain and sorrow you’ve weaved because of your life of violence, cruelty, and murdering?!”
“I wouldn’t and neither would they…!” the tenant’s double laughed as the younger invader had stomped on the former elder’s wounds repetitively.
The injured Rick was found to be coughing up blood from the mouth while struggling to face Morty with a faltering yet stern glare, “are you finished… with your little… tirade, Morty…? In any case… get on with it… already now… besides, I’m so… pretty sure that… you’ve gotten all… of this out of… your system here… stomping the shit… out of a frail… wounded elder… over a grudge… I’m sure they’d love… to be near you… now when all’s said… and done after… where you’d shot at!”
“It’ll all be said and done when I’m through with you; after all, I’ve cased this spot long enough to get what I’d wanted beforehand…” the younger invader heaved as he’d bent down to face his target with a crooked grin with the weapon now pointed at the latter, “as far as I see it, you’re so used to slacking up, neither you or her were able to tell the difference, but he did so now then…”
“Goddammit all…” Rick spat out instantly.
This was of no consequence to Morty overall whom replied, “guess this is goodbye; so long and goodnight…”
“SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT!” the viewing spectator sang as his wounded doppelganger stared down the barrel bravely no less whilst both hands extended both index and pinkie fingers with longs and rings held by thumbs, “ROT IN HELL!”
“THROW DOWN THY MISTEMPERED WEAPON, YOU CRUEL CONQUEROR…!” a loud voice had boomed as the younger invader’s finger froze in place; afterwards, he’d spontaneously combusted as rays of light emerged from all throughout the body, leaving himself screaming about when the flesh and fabric over it singed about due to the bright flames consuming them all.
Rick was left further unharmed as he’d also watched his double onscreen disappearing in a mass of photons and fire alongside Morty in a matter of seconds; while this was going on, a loud click had escaped into the former’s ears as their owner’s heartbeat steadied about when words gasped, “the old darkest before the dawn…”
It didn’t take much for the wounded tenant to be left alone again as the machine finally went off, only to be greeted by a more perfect stranger immediately as far as he could see now so to speak. The new visitor was a woman of a much darker complexion, just like the other individuals whom appeared onscreen from long ago except she was more in depth with the very same dimensions. Like both Ricks as well as the former invader, her eyes were cold yet they were warmed enough to be devoid of both the resentment and indignation held firmly in the injured elder’s pathway. The darker woman’s elongated hair had flowed to and fro, sparkling about as each and every one of these tresses were a bluish tint with both lighter and darker hues alike coexisting in harmony. Aside from the small obsidian tiara matching a widely white crescent necklace, its wearer had donned a long shimmering dress colored in hot pink and a pair of some achromatic slippers too.
“Greeting, dear stranger, perhaps, this mayhaps be our first time meeting together, though perhaps thou hadst hearken prior…” the dark woman greeted the wounded man whom had looked on with a mixture of apathy and agony alike altogether so to speak, “nevertheless, introductions art in order all the same: thou mayest call me Princess Luna, Rick Sanchez…”
“I knew that moving to this dimension was a bad idea…” he’d grumbled about underneath his breath.
Nevertheless, she persisted in talking to Rick anyway, “why dost thou doubt thy senses…? Even though we haven’t met face–to–face in the daylight, I’m sure thou art aware of my abilities and appearance in the surface world as well as that of dreams…”
“Who else isn’t…?” the wounded tenant coughed out, this time away from Luna so as to avoid getting blood on herself, “this plot is so overdone to a fault even I’d would be wanting to go over to Hollywood in my world and make another vast wasteland out of it, preferably nonnuclear unlike one of those fucking writers who sit around all day jacking it like it’s a hot spicy boner. As a matter of fact, I’m gonna use the self–awareness I currently have to wake up and give a certain someone a piece of my mind then maybe, I might as well get back to you, your majesty; ‘til then, have a nice time with the other Morty because I’m sure he’d love your company just as much as he loves going native with one of your ginger breadbasket carrying handmaidens…!”
“Rick, wait–––” the dark princess cried out before he’d disappeared up in front of her, carrying away all of the blood with him until the area occupied was clean as a wet whistle so to speak of.
At this moment in time, she was now alone in the darkness, leaving herself to listen to some other voice say, "dammit all…"
Author's Note
https://camo.fimfiction.net/wGrjSKLWs29KHjqvYzgAfsqqB1vP-HB0MPQozM15Gkg?url=https%3A%2F%2Fpro2-bar-s3-cdn-cf3.myportfolio.com%2Fdf9ec080-b01a-4c18-a569-7e622a979c53%2F4bd5da05-9352-4aec-bf67-43e3bccec740_rw_1200.png%3Fh%3D61b11bb3b266b00557cbdb264b2db507YOU JUST HAD TO PUSH IT, DIDN'T YA, FUCKFACE: HAD TO GO AHEAD AND FUCK WITH ME AND MORTY ONCE MORE?!
WHY THE HELL DID YOU HAVE TO GO AND DO THIS TO US, TO HUMILIATE ME; THE LEAST YOU COULD'VE DONE WAS WRITE HIM IN AS WELL SINCE YOU LOVE HAVING DREAMS OF MORTY HAVING SEX WITH ONE OF EQUESTRIA'S GIRLS LIKE IT WAS NOTHING BUT DID YA DO IT?!
NO, YOU HAD TO TORTURE ME WITH MINDLESS POP CULTURE GARBARGE THAT WOULD MAKE ROLLING STONE LOOK LAZY AND CHEAP, JUST LIKE THAT ARROGANT DIRECTOR WHINGING AND COMPLAINING ABOUT SPIDERMAN MOVIES; HOW MANY TIMES UNTIL PEOPLE MUST SAY NO MORE SPIDERMAN MOVIES, NO MORE REBOOTS, NO MORE REHASHES AND THE LIKE, NO MORE HAVING TO WAKE UP FROM DREAMS BECAUSE SOME SICKO WROTE ABOUT THEM IN THEIR STORIES?!
WELL, KNOW THIS: I'D CHECKED YOUR BROWSER HISTORY DESPITE YOUR PRIVATE SETTINGS AND VPNS SINCE THE MINUTE YOU'D DREAMT OF RICKY; I'D SIFTED THROUGH THEM SO OFTEN, I'VE GOTTEN A CATALOGUE OF WHO'S BEEN TO WHERE AND I DO KNOW WHERE, SO YOU BETTER SHUT IT DOWN, FUCKER, AS FAST AS YOU CAN AND START RUNNING!