Author's Note

Feel free to help point out gaping plot holes, grammar mistakes, or just ask questions in the comments. I don't bite...

Chapter 1: Give me love, Give me fire.

Chapter 1: Give me love, give me fire.

“Ponies for the mines. The mines for the stable. The stable for all ponykind,” I mumbled to myself glancing up at the faded words above the classroom window. The gentle thrum of the ventilation systems mixed with the echoes of distant rock breakers, only interrupted by the squeak of my cleaning cart's wheels and the creaks of rusted panels I passed over. The room on the other side of the dusty centuries old glass was dark of all but the dim light that bled in from the hallway I stood. The few remaining chairs and desks left stacked, spared a trip to the recycler should the next generation need them. Even then only visible to one accustomed to the dark of the stable’s lower levels. “Oh Celestia if only…” I sighed, my horn glowing lifting the rag from the water bucket in the cart behind me. This was going to take all shift to scrub the layer of mixed limestone and rust dust off the glass, the floor... And the walls! Honestly I’d bet meal cakes this was just another one of the overmare’s little busy work projects. It’s not like anypony’s been down here in years.

It was going to be another one of those days, wasn’t it? “Rust and dust till your horn bust,” was how Tulip put it. I'd say she was right if she hadn’t been intentionally saying it just to piss me off. Looking into the classroom though my ears twitched, it was hard not to hear the past in a place like this. Old and forgotten just like the rest of the last generation, nopony cared, nopony bothered to remember all the things that happened down here. I could hear the giggling and the sounds of play, back before Tulip learned to hate me like the rest of them. I mean, who ever heard of a filly getting her cutie mark as early as kindergarten? If I took my glasses off and squinted I could almost see the silhouettes of my classmates running around the room, playing with whatever toys the hobbyists managed to sand down from leftover rubble. Then there was me sitting at the filly-sized table over in the corner, scribbling away on the very last blank spaces of the paper Miss Appleboom had managed to find for me. One of the only two ponies in the room with a cutie mark on her hip. A school of fish for the teacher and a crossed pencil and charcoal-stick on the flank of the scrawny gray foal with the faded summer striped mane. The filly struggled to keep the glasses the size of her head from sliding off her muzzle, one size for the rest of her life they said.

I passed the wet rag over the window not doing much for ten years of built-up gunk, but it did shift what I saw beyond. Sweet princesses, I wish I had soap. My disdain for rationing grew like vent mold with every pass I made smearing this filth. The faint shifting memories continued to play out through several layers of glass and grime. It was hard to forget all the fillies and colts gathered around the smallest in the room, gawking and poking at her flank like it was the most fascinating thing in stable 83. To be fair it was, there wouldn't be another for the next three years.

“Cmon Sketchy! Tell us how you d-deed it,” one crouched pale brown colt was asking as he gingerly prodded a forehoof at the scrawny foal’s mark from her side.

“I-I-I dunno! I was just drawing a circle and… and…” the little pencil gray unicorn shrinking down as she was surrounded by the other kindergarten foals. Holding a piece of paper over her head tightly like she was trying to hide under a blanket. Whimpering and bordering on tears as she was buried in questions she didn’t have the answer to. “S-stop touching Meeeeheheheee!”

The crowd of foals was only dispersed by a quickly approaching cherry red teacher shooing the foals away with gentle nudges of her hoof. “Bronze, leave the poor filly alone, you're scaring her. Same goes from the rest of you, what did I tell you about ganging up on Sketchy like this?” Miss Appleboom’s voice was so sweet even when she was trying to scold the other kindergarteners.

“But Mooooom! She’s the first to get one! She hast tah know how she deed eet,” Bronze whined getting nudged away from the newly marked filly, haunches sliding on the then smooth metal floor.

That's right… I’d almost forgotten Miss Appleboom was Bronze’s mom. Along with probably three or four other foals in the class that year. I don’t know how I didn't notice before, but being great with foals, a soul like honey, and a flank like… well… that! No wonder Bronze had seven half siblings… and maybe one or two full siblings? Wait- Eww! No! Come back from that corner brain! You're not going to think about your kindergarten teacher’s fine flank right now! You’re not allowed to defile the pleasant memory corner, not after what you made me do to the memory of Pickle-Jar’s Cute-ceañera. Now where was I?

Oh right. As unfortunate as it was that the last foal did her in, Miss Appleboom was possibly the kindest mare I've ever known. She didn't have to get me that piece of paper, in fact I think it was already a rule at that point that physical paper wasn’t to be used outside of explicitly special circumstances. Pipbucks and terminals only, after all you can’t make more paper out of rocks. How was she supposed to know I’d draw a perfect circle first try, or even that it would trigger my cutie mark? Her sweetness was only marred by the brief ‘oh dear’ when she first saw the mark fate had bestowed upon my gray ass. She knew I’d end up like this from that very moment, I didn’t. Apparently the job market for ponies who could draw decently wasn’t very high in a stable that revolved around the mines. Wasteful even, now that paper was considered a treasure to be hoarded.

I blinked and the memories shattered away like fridge ice as from far down the hall I heard a distant building hiss. Hurried hooves on raw stone and conversation distorted by distance.

“No no no NO NO NO!!” That sounded like Bronze.

Then came a loud and deep pop ‘POOM!!’ followed by three or four zippy metallic pings. And that sounded like rock breaker 6 having a blow out again.

“FFFFFFUCK!!!... Fuck…fuck,” reverberated all the way up from the mine shafts confirming to me that I was correct on both accounts. I looked back to the window I had been trying to clean while taking a boredom fueled trip down memory lane. “Wha? When did I… how-?... Ughh,” I groaned as upon the dusted up window were lines that if one looked from where I had been standing became the outlines of where all the old school equipment used to be. The desks, the chairs, the chalkboard, all of it… even the less than detailed foals scattered about with the various stone toys. In addition even the lines that were drawn didn't really get that rusty haze off the glass I was supposed to be cleaning.

“Well now I really don’t wanna clean it…” Thus was the pain of being a creator by nature. Not only did I not want to ruin all that effort, cause it looked nice, but I knew full well there wasn't a point to begin with. Nopony ever came down here aside from me and couples thinking they can be sneaky. Tossing the rag back into the bucket of my sparsely populated janitor’s cart I sighed, taking in the still rusted over hall.

“Piece of-… ancient-… horse apples!!” echoed Bronze’s voice along with several heavy clangs and clinks. Sounded like he was taking a hammer to the equipment again. I swear he may be built like a rock breaker, but he was about as smart as one too. Not to mention his patience with machines was shorter than the lifespan of the patches maintenance keeps slapping on the things. He was going to get into trouble no matter what if he dealt any real damage to the breaker, intentionally or not. All that left me was the ever tempting decision of staying out of his way and finding something else to do this shift like a reasonable pony… or tippy-hooving down there to watch a big dumb chisel buck lose his shit. I could see it now, muscles rippling, fury in his eyes, sweat dripping, all of it in slow motion to boot. It sure was a lot of buck swinging that hammer. Heh… wait what was that? I paused feeling something warm and wet drip down onto my forehoof. I look down to see a lone dark red dot, I look up to the ceiling reflexively to see if it’s another leak only to finally feel the same wet warmth run down the very tip of my muzzle.

“Luna damn it not again!” my hooves quickly came up to hold my nose while my horn glowed. Swishing my rag around in the already rust red bucket water as quickly as possible before bringing it out. With a rusty semi-clean rag slowly going darker red I was able to stand up magic keeping the dripping cloth in place. Curse you brain! Taking petty vengeance on a poor mare just cause I wouldn't let you defile the memories of my teacher. Now I’d have to stay here and miss out on both opportunities. He'd call me a creep if he saw me watching him with a nosebleed again. Why can’t ponies around here believe me when I tell them I'm just getting inspiration to draw!?

According to my pipbuck it took 10 minutes of holding the rag and pacing the hall to get this one to stop, now I just needed to dispose of the erm… evidence. Ponies are going to accuse me of being a pervert if they saw I had another nosebleed. Oh who am I kidding they already think that, but I don’t want to give them a reason to actively say it! It was time for operation ‘hide the tissue’ once again. I knew there was a sink in the little fillie’s room two floors up I could use to drain the bucket and wash the rag. Buuut there was the issue of avoiding literally everypony along the way in addition to the risk of somepony walking in. Best case scenario I don’t get spotted, middle case somepony sees me but doesn't say anything, and worse case it’s those security asshats just having to ‘investigate’ the origin of any blood found. I don't feel like being subjected to the interrogation spell again, it would be mortifying and they’d tease me about it for months! Why must most of these possibilities suck?!

I checked for ALL nearby tags in reference to my current position and started moving the cart like all was normal. Deep breaths, it was just another day on the janitorial shift, act like I’m doing my job… yeah, I should bring the mop to the bathroom too, really cement my cover story. I’ll just come back to cleaning this hallway tomorrow, overmare’s busywork projects come after my base duties unless it's an emergency. Don’t smile, don't make eye contact, don't draw attention. They don’t want to start conversations with you, never have, don’t give them a reason too now.

The coast was clear, too clear. My eyes scanning up and down the hallway I had mopped just yesterday and- damn it who tracked hoofprints in here!? Ah! Focus Sketchy, gotta get to the bathroom and I should be in the clear. With my cart in front of me I gently pushed it along with my hooves, whistling ever so casually as my eyes kept darting down to my pipbuck checking for any approaching tags. The nearest tags seemed to be the night shift maintenance guys, most of their rooms were over here anyways so they'd have to surrender precious sleep to ever spot me. The faint squeak of the cart wheels and my super casual janitor whistling mingled with the faint hum of the air vents at work, my pace only broken so I could peek around the corner of a T junction in the hallway. It led all the way to the lowest floor of the atrium, but thank Celestia nobody was in it at the moment so I could scamper on by. This level of paranoia probably wasn't healthy for a mare my age but- oh hey the bathroom!

Slipping into the mares only bathroom the first wave of relief swept over me, hopefully not the last. A quick glance around the room I scrubbed just yesterday and not another mare in sight. Showers, clear, stalls, clear, and one last peek into the hallway I was just in… clear! Now to wash away the evidence. A quick glance at the pipbuck showed no tags directly approaching and I set to work. Dumping the tainted water in the bucket was the first and fastest thing I could do, but the hard part was going to be the rag. I can’t just toss it cause recycling would just pick it out and reprimand me for it not being seven different kinds of tattered beyond use. Scrubbing with my hooves and keeping it under constantly running water was doing a decent enough job given I didn't let the rag dry out, but it was taking its sweet time. There was a faint beep from my pipbuck and I wanted to freeze, looking down a new tag had shown up and was practically B-lining it for the bathroom. Crap!Crap!Crap! No! It was Pickle Jar! Sweet Luna anypony but her! Quick act normal sketchy! Act normal!

My horn had just only stopped glowing when the cotton white mare came into the bathroom and spotted me. Her flowing emerald green mane gently bobbed with every step she took… I have no idea how she kept it up like that. Still I whistled casually as I had my bucket in the sink with the semi-bloody cloth swirling around in the filling water. She blinked, spotting me and her eyes fell into that faint glare everypony seemed to have for me these days.

“Sketchy…” princesses I could just feel the disgust in her voice…that or I was overthinking it.

“P-Pickle…” I stammered trying the best coworker/neighbor smile I could as she walked over to one of the bathroom stalls.

Pickle-Jar, like the rest of them, had gotten her cutie mark years after I got mine and even several years past our other peers too. The overmare had to let her do chores in the cafe for her mark to finally appear, at least it was useful. “S-Soooo… H-hows your shift been Pi-”

“Don’t even try it Sketchy, we both know you don’t come in here on Fridays… at all if you can help it,” she cut me off from the stall. I froze, my heart could resume beating at any time now… Any time now, heart!?

“Wh-what are you talking about? I just…” I needed to pull some kind of excuse out of my ass. What happened to all that planning I did on the way up here? Brain!?

“Everypony knows you’ve been using the emergency chem-spill shower down in maintenance to bathe since middle school. You know… after somepony rearranged your muzzle with the stall door,” she stated it so dismissively, like I couldn't suddenly feel the pain in my muzzle or remember being curled up on the tile floor bleeding out my face. It wasn’t my fault Tulip had still been a blank-flank in 7th grade, she didn’t need to take it out on me.

“Yeah I remember…but-” my forehoof was already up rubbing at my snoot’s phantom pains when Pickle continued.

“But why are you up here now? Someone in maintenance threaten to shove the mop up your flank again cause you found one of their stills?” There was a flush from the earth pony’s stall. She didn’t sound upset at least.

“N-no… I just-”

“Walked in on two ponies going at it?”

“No..”

“Broke something?”

“I…”

“Got a nosebleed thinking about all the flank you're not getting?” The stall door opened and she still had that same dismissive glare resting on her face whenever she looked at me. Trotting her way up to the farthest sink from me to wash her hooves.

Oww, she didn’t have to say it like that. “H-How did you know that? I Just-” My words refused to work the way I wanted them to. Talking to ponies shouldn’t be this damn hard!

She just sighed. “Well for one you just admitted to it.”

“Oh…” stupid stupid stupid! I could feel the attraction between my forehead and the rim of this sink growing

“Secondly you still have blood on your hoof.” she pointed and I looked down to see the red dot on the front of my right forehoof…fuck. “And third.” she pointed her wet hoof back up at me directly. “You try way too hard to act casual when you do something pervy you don’t want ponies to notice. Nopony actually whistles like that.”

“I-I do not!” I retorted back pointing my hoof in turn to no real effect on her no horse apples given expression.

“Fourth, you do too, you're a terrible liar,” she added, turning and heading for the door.

Okay she’s walking away. Don’t stare at her flank Sketchy, don’t stare at her flank… she will totally notice your eyes going from her gorgeous bobbing mane, down her back, over that flawless coat that makes you question how she got her hooves on the shampoo needed for that perfect texture, and lastly down to the pickle jar printed on her flank I could just-

“Sketchy…” Pickle said my name bringing my eyes back up to her’s looking back at me with a slightly more annoyed glare. Luna’s massive black horn going in sideways I had been staring again! Why brain why?!! What did I ever do to you?! That was when I felt the wet warmth running down my nose again… oh fuck you too! I could just imagine the wrinkly pink thing running around up there playing with valves and buttons giggling like he’s the funniest little shit in the world.

Pickle-jar just sighed and walked out of the bathroom “Don’t judge the pervert Pickle… she can’t help it,” less than mumbled on her breath with a sprinkle more disdain than before.

“Wait Pickle I- damn it…” I groaned as soon as my forehead met the edge of the sink thumping on the metal again and again while my nose kept leaking onto the floor. At this point my horn just glowed and twisted the little knob on my pipbuck to turn off the tag-tracker, it was too late to care anymore.

I dumped the new bucket of tainted water and finished washing the rag out best I could so nopony would think anything of how slightly redder it was now. I’d just say rust if they asked. Great, now I can’t unsee that face Pickle made when she walked out and every time that little moment replayed in my mind she just seemed to get bigger and more pissed… that or I was getting smaller either way by pass number seven she had fangs and-

I shook my head trying to get that minecart of thought derailed as soon as possible. You know what? I’m turning this into a mental health day, what are they gonna do? Actually look for me down in lower levels? My room is the first place they’d check for me if they can't find me so… Aha!!

With my janitorial gear stashed back in the closet next to my room I went for the one place nopony would ever look for me. I kept my head down, minus my janitor’s harness I was down to only my jumpsuit so the other stable ponies wouldn’t think I was on duty. Avoid eye contact, ignore the sneers, and just keep walking. If anypony was in the way they would disperse before I even got halfway across the room just to avoid me.

There it was though, on the far side of the atrium was an alcove in the wall, the only sanctuary I had that was more literal than figurative. Looking up to the twisted wire framework of the two century old stained glass, it may have been missing most of its colors to time, but one could still see the depiction of two Alicorns circling a large star. The faded words below still read in big bold letters ‘Chapel’ and I walked in. It was a simple rectangular room, a tattered red rug running down the middle that had seen countless weddings and funerals. A handful of remaining pews off to either side were worn and scratched to hell and back but they were some of the last remaining pieces of wood the stable had to offer. The apple trees over in hydroponics were too precious to cut down to make more, even when dead. Along the side walls were small evenly spaced alcoves about the same size as the front door, each with some kind of heavily faded mural that couldn’t really tell the stories of the princesses and harmony as well as they used to. Finally down at the far end was a simple and slightly elevated altar with a much larger mural taking up most of the wall behind it lit by electric candelabras, half the flame shaped bulbs dead. This mural may have been identical to what was left of the strain-glass window up front, but looked far better maintained. You could still tell the alicorn on the left was Celestia and the dark one on the right was Luna. Sisterly equals overseeing all of ponykind and maintaining harmony from the everafter… must be nice.

“Father Thumper?” I called with no real answer in turn. The rickety old earth pony was usually around, but it seemed I was the only one here at the moment. The serene silence that clung to my ears was held together by centuries old soundproofing behind the walls and only broken by the faint thrum of the vent fans, just like everywhere else in the stable. If I was alone… I was going to do the only thing any self respecting single mare would do when perfectly alone on holy ground! Plop my tail firmly in one of the front pews where it was nicely worn in and take deep breaths basking in the silence. I got about three of those meditative breaths in before a familiar preacher hobbled in from one of the chapel's back rooms.

“Oh it’s you Sketchy. For a second there I thought it was going to be somepony else feeling guilty for once,” chuckled the old earth-buck hobbling his way into the room. Even in his stable jumpsuit one could see his ribs faintly showing through the fabric and around his collar. His coat dulled with age, and if it weren't for him being in a lot of the wedding photos around the stable you’d never know how much of a shining black stallion he used to be. His thick leather tome of a cutie mark was just as pristine as the day he got it through.

“Nice to see you too, Father Thumper. I see you’ve been working out, at this rate you're going to reach the end of time before the rest of Equestria,” I retorted with the first smile in a while starting to grow on my face, I could even feel a giggle coming on.

He smirked “Yeah it's going great, I managed to out-age dirt just last week.” Now, I was giggling as he started doing a little strut and flexing like a buck a quarter his age. “I still got goals after all! Next I gotta get ahead of fossils and the dust behind the cafe fridge.” he trotted in place till we both heard something pop, winced, and his eyes went briefly wide. “Yep! Dirt is a sore loser… owwww.” he got down on his haunches pressing a hoof to his back and stretching till I heard another pop that made me wince again. “Now that that's back where it belongs, I gotta say it's a sad day when the only two ponies in the stable chapel are the pastor and the stable’s biggest little sinner~” he smiled.

“Hey! I'm not that bad,” I huffed slumping down in the pew till my hinds hung far enough off the edge to reach the floor.

“No, no you're not… you're just the only one that admits to it,” he nudged my slumping form with a hoof to drive the point home.

I had to defend myself “I don’t steal, or drink, or slam reactor coolant in my veins trying to get high, I dont sleep around-” counting them off on my extended hooves till he interrupted.

“Ah ah ah~ You're right you don’t, but you really want to and in the princesses’ eyes that counts,” the priest retorted, taking a seat next to me on the pew… it was hard to tell which creaked more.

“Wait really?!”

“Pfft~ no!” he chuckled again much to my chagrin, leaving me to grumble and groan at him. “That’s the third time you’ve fallen for that one Sketchy. Celestia would smite this place into a crater deeper than the mine if just thinking about it was bad,” he added, patting my shoulder like it would make me less upset about his little jab… which it did. Curse you pastorly charisma!

“You really like toying with people's immortal souls don’t you?” I grumbled folding my forehooves over my chest.

“Oh you're just now catching on? I thought you knew all old people have necromantic powers!” he started wiggling both his withered forehooves at me “Wooooo~ I’mma takin your soooulll~”

Okay I couldn't help it now, I giggled, laughed even… the pastor always knew how to drag me kicking and screaming out of feeling bad. “Okay okay I get it! Thinking isn't bad, But that hasn't exactly stopped everyone around the stable from treating me like a creep. I think even Pickle-Jar is getting fed up.”

“So that’s what's got you down this time?” he asked like it wasnt the umteenth time I’ve been in here for that exact reason.

I could only nod as I laid there slumped in the chair. I could still hear Pickle-jar’s voice in the back of my mind. Pervert… pervert… pervert…

“And?...”

I blinked and looked up at him. “And? What do you mean ‘and’?”

“Sketchy, if you were in here every single time someone around the stable called you a pervert under their breath I would have set up a little cot over in the corner so you wouldn't have to walk all the way up from your room,” he chuckled “Now what's the second thing?”

I facehoofed “Fuck your not wrong…”

“Language sketchy~ Place of worship, remember?” His smile coy and his tone coyer.

“Shit!” It was a reflex.

“Sketchy…”

“Luna Damn it! Ahh!!” The reflex was too much, I grabbed one of the worn little pillows from the end of the pew and just screamed into it for a good few seconds.

“You get it out of your system?” he asked, sounding just a wee bit concerned before I put a hoof up to his muzzle to silence him for a moment… took a breath, and resumed screaming into the pillow for a few more seconds.

Bringing my hoof down and my head up from the pillow “Yes…”

“I see your language is still as colorful as your overactive imagination.” he sighed, sinking down in the pew just like me. “Just like you mother… heh~ Colorful didn’t begin to describe her or you now that I think about it.”

“Yeah, but I doubt she had some of the worst events in her life flashing before her eyes over and over again at the drop of a brush.” yep there went my mood again.

“Was it the kindergarten thing or your face getting bashed in again?”

“Both…”

“Ohh that explains why you're here. I’d say those were years and years ago, but we've already had that conversation haven't we?” he rubbed his graying chin with a hoof in thought peering off into an endless distance looking at the mural of the princesses.

“Yeah we have…” I answered looking at the cracks in the floor tiles, those would never get replaced, it was like they aged before my very eyes.

“You know - your mother.” he comed a hoof through his thinning mane. “I think the difference between you and her, was that she was willing to kick the ass of anyone who messed with her, even if it was the overmare.”

I perked up a little. “Mom kicked the overmare’s ass? Wait… Didn't you just say something about language in a place of worship?”

“Yes, yes she did and yes I did. However it’s my chapel and I'm the pastor so I get a free pass for ‘ass’, ‘damn’, and on occasion ‘son of a mule’ in particular.” he said quite proudly, folding his own hooves.

“Ughh…so Mom kicked the ever loving shit out of the overmare?”

“Language~”

“But you just said!-”

“Ass, Damn, and Mule.” I swear he was doing this on purpose.

“Wh- These rules are dumb!!” I pulled at the oranges of my scraggly mane, nearly ripping some hues out.

“Now you're catching on!”

“Just tell me why and how Mom kicked the overmare’s ass! I came here to feel better about ponies calling me a pervert all the time and flashbacks of them beating me up, not about swearing like a rock breaker techie.” I huffed facing him now, hooves on my hips, glaring.

“Ohh I see you got your fire back. Well if you must know, give me a moment to recall~” I could tell he was feigning thinking about it as he stroked that little beard he had going on. Only when I started to squint at him and lean in did he finally cave. “Oh it was over something silly. I think it was over a buck. An outrageously handsome, humble, and faithful buck I wouldn’t know anything about. Sounds backwards I know, it’s usually the bucks brawling over the pretty mare.”

Mildly sexist stereotypes aside I hadn’t been expecting an answer so… simple? Mundane? Not something like hosting a massive party or stealing the overmare’s keys? “Over a buck?… She kicked overmare ass over some buck?”

His smiling nod was the only confirmation I was going to get from him. “And a second time when your mother hijacked the intercom system, stole the last of the spray-paint from storage, and went to town on all the hallways. Took 3 security ponies to take her down, but not before she wrote ‘Bitchy Blueburst’ in big red letters all over the overmare’s observation window.'' He had his hooves in front of him spreading apart to emphasize the size of the letters.

“Language!” I jabbed him with my own hoof this time.

“Hah fair~” he chuckled and wheezed, batting my objecting hoof away. “Almost nothing could stop that mare when she was on one of her tears. They made her stay in the security cell until the overmare got her teeth put back in.” he leaned in a little “She waited to get her teeth back in~” he smirked sitting back and I could just imagine a younger overmare being so spiteful as to not get her teeth put back in just to keep mom in a cell. “Think of it like this - your mother was a terror of color, ideas, and visions and it took an act of Discord to finally put her down. No buck or mare could keep her down, but all it took was one rusty pipe under too much pressure and she was gone, just gone.” the color seemed to drain from his eyes a little along with the energy in his face.

“Feels weird that we're the only ones who talk about her…” I added looking down to my hooves nearly reaching the floor.

“Nopony really talks about what's gone around here anymore… it's sad, but there are more important things to worry about it seems.” He took a deep breath and sighs, so did I… and we kindof just sat there in the silence of the chapel for a few long moments looking up at the ceiling. “You feel better?” he asked, not looking down as his stare went to and beyond the faded mural above the altar.

“Yeah actually…” I answered, scratching my mane with a hoof as I looked up where he seemed to be staring.

“Do you feel like kicking the ass of the next pony who gives you a hard time?”

“A little…” I could admit.

“Are you going to?”

“Do you want the correct answer or the honest answer?” I asked, it made quite the difference.

“House of worship, remember? Best not to lie here. Princesses might scold you like a filly after you die~” he nudged me and I could just sense the smile he was wearing.

“Well under penalty of getting spanked in the Everafter… maybe~ I’ll try not to get all my legs broken.” I answered looking up to the Celestia half of the mural followed by a little flash in my mind of swinging a hoof on Tulip so hard it knocked her teeth across the tiled floor of the cafe in a nice little fan splatter. I shivered, blinking and shaking my head a little, that was getting too real.

“See something you didn’t like?” he asked, a peppered eyebrow raising, an actually faint note of concern in his voice.

“No, just something I don't think I’d ever do, or at least shouldn’t” I hopped up from the pew finally getting back on all fours. All that slouching was starting to make my back hurt.

“Oh~ On the subject of things you're not going to do, I got something for you!” he got up as well and started digging around into his stable-suit pockets while I turned to face him.

“You got me something? Like… what?” Well I had to admit my interest peaked. Nopony ever got me anything more than a few sheets of scrap paper. In his teeth though he handed a small orange square. “Is this a holotape?” I’d actually only ever seen them in textbooks, I think Miss Appleboom had one to show us pictures her great great grandparents took before the great war trapped us in the stable.

“Sure is. Read the label,” he said as I took the tape in my horn’s magic.

“Princesses in the sky… By Norbuck Greenbean?” I read aloud, but I had no idea what those little squiggly symbols were at the end of the name. Looked a bit like a flagpole sticking out of a rock.

“It’s a pre-war song, you can play it in your pipbuck. I used to play it all the time here in the chapel before the overmare ordered the speakers recycled.”

“Okay but, why? Wouldn’t you want to listen to it?” I had to ask, I could feel the weight of time suddenly being added to the tape I was hovering… that was just my mind being overdramatic right?

He gave my mane a pat before answering “Oh I don’t need it anymore. I’ve heard it so many times since I was a choir colt I could sing it myself verbatim if I really wanted to. Plus I can feel something is going to change around here soon enough and I think it would be best in your hooves. I just ask that you don't listen to it until the moment feels just right.”

“You… don’t want me to listen to it?”

“Not yet no, You’ll know the moment you’ll need to slip it into your pipbuck soon enough.”

“How?” I just had to ask, letting the question hang in the air, I was pretty sure the curiosity was going to kill me with him being this mysterious about it.

“You’ll know. Maybe it’ll be when you meet your special somepony, maybe on your birthday, maybe when your first foal is born, Only the princesses will know until you do.” he answered, shrugging yet smiling.

“Riiight…” I said skeptically slowly putting the holotape into one of my jumpsuit pockets. I'm going to have to try REALLY hard not to think about it. I took a step towards the door of the chapel. “Well thank you for the erm… holotape.. And the story, and the moral support… and everything else Father Thumper.” I smiled meekly trying to do the whole thankful thing properly.

“You know I have no issue with you calling me dad right?” he asked, watching me head for the chapel door.

“I know, it’s just… well… Calling the stable pastor who’s four times older than you daddy might really give off the wrong messages to ponies?” I chuckled nervously tapping my forehooves together a little “I mean… the age gap between you and mom was kindof a whole thing before I was born.” I tried to shrug and smile hoping he understood just how weird it would look, ponies already thought I was a pervy creep.

“True, but I dont think calling me dad at least once would be so bad right? Are you really going to leave your old buck hanging?” his smile small as he nudged me towards the door with a hoof.

I started walking faster “Fiiine. Bye Daaaad.” I said over her shoulder as I trotted out of the chapel leaving him to whatever productive thing he does all day… right into a big wall of muscle that knocked me back onto my haunches. Before my eyes was a pale brown coated chest and slowly turning my head up to see its owner was a certain swol bronze buck I had known since kindergarten. “Eep!” escaped my muzzle as I scooted back getting onto my hooves again. “O-Oh hey Bronze. I didn't see you standing there being all big and… buff and… please don’t step on me.” I meeped all the social stress I had just vented in the chapel was creeping back up my spine with a vengeance.

He snorted deep and I could swear the air wavered any time he exhaled. “Sketchy, you didn’t happen to be cleaning down on the lower levels this shift were you?”

Ahh shit he must have heard me! But why is this marbled slab of stallion before me asking me that- oh fuuuck he really broke rock breaker 6 didn’t he?! Ahhh!! “Oh I umm, no not really I was uhh.. Cleaning the other floor, and the mares bathroom and erm… yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow and lowered his head down closer to my level. “Really? I guess it was somepony else doodling all over the window to my mom's old classroom like a little vandal?” Oh sweet Celestia, that bedrock deep voice would be so hot right now if he didn’t also sound pissed. Focus brain! He was in the middle of calling you out.

“I mean… a-anybody could have done that really, dust is everywhere you know. Full time job and all that..yeah..” I forced a smile just trying to seem more convincing in the slightest

“Nah I'm pretty sure it was you, ya got where her desk was right and everything.” he glared, those dreamily burning eyes boring into mine that couldn't maintain eye contact for longer than a second as I shrank down. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t hear anything weird is all… machinery around here has been making all kinds of strange sounds lately. Ya get me?”

He was actually trying to intimidate me, the janitor, into not saying anything about him slagging a rock breaker. Sure he looked about as strong as the bronze ingot on his flank… which means he could probably split me- no! Bad brain! Ahem, break me in half, and then a few more halves. “Well I don't think so I just-... I just clean around here Bronze. I don't know weird mechanical sounds… Th-that's maintenance's job.” was the best answer I could give in the face of a towering buck. Don’t look down, he’s gonna call you a creep if you look down at his massive- Fuck I looked down! I smiled sheepishly as I could feel a faint amount of color coming to my cheeks.

He was none too pleased, scoffing as he looked down at me. “Oh good, Nothing to worry about at all. Now skitter off to wherever pervy little creeps like you hide while people do actual work.”

Didn’t I just have a whole heart to heart moment with my dad about how my mom didn’t take shit from anypony? How I was so much like her? I didn’t like this… I really didn't like this. My heart didn’t like this, and this weird pressure building behind my eyes didn't like this either. I felt my face twisting into a glare and my jaw wanted to tighten. It was like something was building up in me… and for the love of Celestia it felt a little like nausea and something more. I didn’t know how to fight it and eventually I just felt something give. “You know what Bronze…”

He had just been about to step away when I finally got up off my haunches. “Hmm? What? You're not gonna ask me to plow you are-”

“...ffffFUUUUCK YOU Bronze!” I roared, turning the head of nearly every pony in the atrium including dad’s, the mares at the cafe, and Bronze who could not look more taken aback that this tiny perv mare was yelling at him.

“What did you just-” he started but this welling in me wouldn't let him continue.

“Fuck you Bronze! Fuck you! Fuck your massive dick! Fuck the machine you broke down in the mines! I am tired of both you and everypony else’s shit! I bust my ass too much trying to scrape rust off of floors nobody walks on anymore and I have no more mental capacity to spare for you!!” I jabbed a hoof into his massive chest with every angry point I made. “You broke a rock breaker! So what!? I don’t give a pegasus flying fuck!! If you're angry go take it out on somepony else you overgrown colt! Hell! Go fuck Tulip on her dad’s bed again! Her spoiled jealous ass probably needs it!”

A certain pink mare over in the cafe spewed her drink all over the table she was sitting at and was getting looks from everypony around. Along with what sounded like a distant older buck yelling “He What!?”

“By Celestia’s titanic tits her cutie mark is a fucking flower! A flower! We don’t grow flowers down here! And she was a blank-flank till highschool! Take a hint you dense mare fucking jackass!!” the words practically said themselves as I just walked around him with the loudest huff I’ve ever made. “All of you can sit on Luna’s throbbing black horn and SPIN!!” There was a mix of murmurs from the atrium behind me as I went down the hall towards my room. I was three different kinds of done with today.

“Was that Sketchy?” were the last coherent words I heard leaving the scene. Anypony who wanted to complain needed to find me first, at which point I would tell them to bite my pencil lead gray ass!

The first thing I did upon entering my room just past water recycling was grab the tiny bin I kept in the corner. Then spent what felt like the next hour spewing everything I had eaten in the past twenty four. Sweet Celestia this is awful! I knew it was nausea! I don’t even remember eating some of these colors, or where that last bit about Tulip even came from. My gut just kept heaving and retching till my pipbuck told me today’s shift was over with a little bell chime. I never knew I could feel so tired so fast, maybe spewing all the physical and emotional bile you have in your system at once might be going a bit overboard for any pony.

With a little bit of coughing and a now overwhelming sense of emptiness inside I limped over to my withered frame of a bed pressed into the corner. Not the nicest corner of the stable ,but it was the one place I could flop without judgment… and so I did! The creak of century old springs met my ears as I groaned and rolled onto my back staring up at the ceiling. My eyes drawn past the sketches I had plastered the ceiling with to the occasional flickering of one of the two lights I had in here. The mix of absolute hunger and absolute revulsion towards food was certainly a new feeling to experience, really taking away from the mild joy I got from being surrounded by my stuff.

Very little space in the small room wasn’t plastered in layer after layer of my creations. Salvaged magazine pages, recycled paper, faded textbook pages, Hell even decades old receipts from back when the stable store was still allowed to use them. All of it covered end to end in years of my charcoal drawings, they didn’t hide just the wall though. The gentle breeze from the air vents occasionally made one of the surface pages flip and show where I stashed copious amounts of flank drawings, cutouts of ancient Wingboner magazines somepony smuggled into the stable before the great war, and lots of other less wholesome depictions I…*ahem* artistically crafted in the countless hours I had alone between shifts. I wouldn't say I was very good at it… even if the one I made for Pickle-Jar as a birthday present got the usual flat faced reaction she always had. ‘Impressive… but please keep it.’ was possibly the best and only praise I got from somepony who wasn’t Miss Appleboom or dad… and it's hard to believe someone whose job it is to be nice to you. Or is that just me?

There came a familiar chittering, from the air vent down under my little desk in the other corner. They must be hungry already. “I hear you… just give me a moment guys, I can feel my guts at the moment.” I groaned while still laying there, like hell I was going to get up right now, so I poured my focus into my horn. There was more chittering and the tap of a tiny leg on sheet metal. “Calm doooown I’m getting iiiiit.” I knew the drill, first unscrew the grate over the vent, then take the two lumpy brown apples I pocketed from the cafe trash during breakfast, and pull out the little tray I made for the ventilation locals. “You know what…I think I got you guys something special today.” great chance to deal with two problems at once. I tossed the apples into the little waste bin of bile and slid the whole thing into the vent. I could guess by the chittering they were happy to be getting several times more food than usual today. “Your welcome~” I sighed, screwing the grate back on. Don't want to risk them coming in here and eating all the paper.

The chitters and the skitters briefly grew in intensity before fading off down the vents away from my room. “Take care of the radroach problem overmare said. You're the janitor she said. Give me something to use as poison I said. That would be wasteful, she said. Just smash 'em she said.” I rolled my eyes and remembered that whole one sided conversation. Well guess what overmare, turns out if you just feed the little guys they stay out of pony’s rooms and the kitchen. Who knew? I knew. Plus has anypony seen the size of those things? Hitting them with a broom would just piss them off and I don't feel like getting swarmed by radroaches. At least I got a little symbiosis going on here.

I rolled onto my side so I could see a little bit better and got my horn glowing again. The apple stems were usually the only thing they left behind after eating and I had a little collection going. Scooping the little pile of stems up in my telekinesis I compressed them into a little ball, it looked like I had enough. Now for the hard part, I focused. I added as much pressure to the little ball as I could while still having enough focus left for a second little spell. A small stream of smoke began seeping from the ball of stems and I kept it up till I could see the glow of embers from within. And now to maintain pressure…

“Cmoooon… cook you.” I strained as slowly, but surely the stems were reduced to ash and coals in the tray down below. Finally able to let go of the compressed ball I shook the pan a little trying to separate the tiny coals from the ash. Magically scooped up as many of the tiny black rocks as I could into a new floating ball and began crushing them the best I could with my magic. Rolling and squeezing till they were as fine a powder as I could manage. Mixed in a little rust powder for coloration and filler… aaand lastly add a few drops of water from the trusty canteen on my desk, a single drip of wonderglue, and press the whole blackish-brown glob into the shape of a tiny stick. I had to wipe the sweat from my brow by the time I was done but after two plus weeks of feeding the radroaches I now had a new 1.5 inch charcoal stick. Huh, who knew hobbies could take your mind off how much things suck… Oh wait I did.

The foundation of only one of my only two hobbies aside, I don't think I can bring myself to start drawing right now… much less did I actually have anything to draw on. The walls and floors of maintenance were tempting, but the head techpony got pissy the last time I did that. Screw it, I’m gonna pass out. Just roll over and stare at this wall till…

Things were dark not necessarily in the absence of light sense, more in that everything around me looked as though it were hand drawn on old paper, overshaded and perpetually twisting and crinkling, yet I could still see everything. I’d kill a mare for this much paper. The halls, the walls, doors, and sketchily drawn words are all charcoal. I wasn’t in control, I was just along for the ride in a body that felt just like my own. Things moved like I was only ever catching every half second as I walked alone down a hallway. Everything sounded normal, the thunk of hoof on metal from below even if the floor seemed to be made of paper. I walked..and walked… rounding corners that didn’t really line up with my mental map of stable 83. Eventually I, or at least I think this was me, walked up to a wall as if finally noticing it was made of paper and pressed a hoof to it. When it crinkled and gave way to the hoof I pushed harder, the paper tearing and in a blink I was somewhere else.

Tile floor, sinks, mirrors, stalls, all made of sketched paper, but this was still the mare’s bathroom on the main floor. Was I… smaller? I don't remember the sinks being that high- aaand that was a stall door in my face! The pain shooting up my nose and the sound of my glasses shattering lasted only briefly before it came again and again. I didn’t count how many times the sudden pain happened, how many times I heard the crunch, the thump of impact. I had raised my hooves to try and stop it, but then I was on the ground, hooves on my snoot, the sketchy monochromatic world a blur without my glasses. All I could see were the outlines of my hooves holding my muzzle. I was on my side curled up barely able to see past the tears, the blank flanked mare coming out from behind the door, or the slowly growing pool of black under my head.

“Pickle-Jar’s ass in mine you early blooming creep!” the words distorted, but echoing from the standing mare. Something was missing though, not the color from everything, not her cutie mark, or the sound of me sobbing… ahh there it was! The hoof to the gut and one between the hinds before she stormed off leaving me there in the puddle of my own tears, blood, and broken glass. That was about how it went. Maybe that part about her spitting on me before she went was a part I made up just to make it worse. Either way this was pain-

My eyes opened and my ears perked as there was a knock on my door. The only logical reaction I could have after a wonderful dream such as that was to squeak and flail in panic till I fell out of my bed in a pile of old sheets. One thump and some hastily escaped sheets later there was another knock. Bronze had probably come to kick my ass after everything I said in the atrium! Or worse beat me up and fuck me sidew- Ahh! Brain you’re not helping!! What if it'sTulip?! Why did you make me go and yell all those things brain?! I hovered over the little desk lamp I had, keeping it up high in the event I needed to bash a pony over the head and run. So much pain could be on the other side of the door, I hesitated, my hoof shook as I reached for it.

“Sketchy…” was the first thing I heard from the ever present resting-bitch-face of Pickle-Jar. Standing there with that gorgeous emerald mane and perfect white coat she's had since playing with stone blocks in pre-k.

“Oh Pickle-Jar… it’s just you.” I said feeling at least half the mounting fear draining out of me.

“You're not going to hit me with that are you?” she asked, I could see her looking up at the floating lamp behind me. Which I immediately tossed somewhere out of view.

“What? Nooo I’d never…do… why are you down here?” I tilted my head a bit now that I realized it was Pickle of all mares who came down to the butt end of maintenance housing just to see me. I was still half hiding behind the door when she poked me in the chest with a hoof. Sweet Celestia she was touching me- Stop it brain!

“I'm here cause it seems like you finally split your bit.” she started doing a little jab with her hoof.

“It wasn’t that bad…I-”

“You basically told Bronze off in front of everypony and announced to the whole stable he broke a piece of priceless machinery. Before he could even cover the situation up and get it fixed without being reprimanded.”

“Okay maybe it was that bad-” I started but she continued.

“You also basically proclaimed to the whole stable that Tulip-Patch was not only a raging slut who’s cutiemark was her talent for getting bucked raw, but that Bronze was the one fucking her the hardest.” Princesses even her tone had a resting bitch face…

“I may have gone a little overboard-”

“On her dad’s bed…”

“Alright I get it!” I threw my forehooves up in the air in defeat. “I let my mouth get bigger than my ass! I messed up! Now they have legitimate reasons to hate me! Hell they’ll probably kill me and throw me in the metal reclaimer for good measure! Then turn me into serving trays which they will defecate on repeatedly!”

“Well they are really upset with you, like even more so than when you got me that Hearts and Hooves day card that said I had the best flank in the stable.”

“Ohh that's pretty mad…” I shrank. “Why do ponies keep getting pissed when I tell the truth?” I paced what little room I had, trying to formulate a way out of this, where in the stable I could hide on my shifts so I could avoid them for a good month or two so they could get over it. “Waaait why are you telling me all this? I thought you hated me too.”

She sighed “I don’t hate you sketchy, I wouldn’t be here if I hated you. I’m just one of the few mares that grasps why you are the way you are.”

I blinked stopping mid pace to look at her. “You do?...” These were not the words I thought I'd ever hear in my life.

“Yeah, everypony picked on you for getting your cutie mark years ahead of everyone else. Everypony thought you cheated till everypony else got theirs and realized there really wasn't a way to cheat getting a mark at all. But it was already too late, you were ostracized so long the damage to your social development was already done.”

I was starting to notice my jaw hanging there like the cafe sign. I was not expecting an out of nowhere psycho analysis in the doorway of my room tonight. “But I…”

“Turned to the only thing most teenage mares can do in their free time when they have no friends.”

“Artistic expression?” I smiled sheepishly.

“If you consider jacking off a form of artistic expression then sure, you turned to ‘artistic expression’ as one of the only sources of joy in your life.”

I… felt my face start to burn up, the heat in my ears was real too. “I-I have noooo idea what youre talking about heh… I mean that crazy talk, Iil wholesome ole me minding her own business? I wouldn’t do…that...” lying so hard it would make dad’s ears itch.

“Sketchy, sweetie… I can see the Wingboner and Playmare magazine cutouts on your wall from here.”

“Ahh! Don't look at those! They aren't mine!” I squeaked and flailed trying to get my hooves, my body, anything over the part of the wall I stashed all those vintage beauties.

“Yes… yes they are Sketchy” she sighed “and I don’t care that you have them or that your barn door swings both ways. Everypony’s known that since you gave me that pinup you drew for my birthday… of me… infront of everypony attending.”

I really wanted to hide under my bed at that point…

“You turned to porn as your lonely ass coping mechanism cause it was the last ‘social’ thing that hasn't been ruined for you like everything else has. Bonus points for you cause you could actually use your talent to facilitate it." She made a slow sweeping gesture to the rest of my room which was adorned with all kinds of evidence to prove her point.

“Could we please swap to just hitting me rather than emotionally disassembling me?” I asked weakly, feeling smaller and smaller because at this point getting hit in the face started to seem a lot more appealing than being psychologically deconstructed in my doorway like a broken water pump.

“No.” she answered flatly, giving me another prod “Cause this takes me to my point. I understand why you're a dirty minded recluse… and I don't blame you for it.”

“You… you don’t?” How… how could she not blame me for it?

“Not in the slightest. My only complaint is how big you draw my flank in your pictures and how often you stare at it. I get it, you have a thing for mares with big manes and flanks to spank. I just have to remind myself why you’re like this every time you get a nosebleed watching me walk away.” she rolled her eyes “First it was weird, then it was flattering, and now I just don’t care anymore… are… are you crying?” she asked, raising a brow.

“N-No..” I snuffled, lying more to myself than her, vision growing cloudy, as I was torn between smiling and tears. There was actually somepony in stable 83 that didn't hate me? Other than dad?

“A bad liar and an ugly crier… great. Calm down, you're starting to snot up-” she stopped when I sniffed hard and reflexively wiped my nose off on my hoof. “Eww…” she shivered.

I sniffed again. “You know… if you can break people down this much on the fly, why is your cutie mark a pickle jar and not like a tweed couch or a brain or something?”

She actually groaned for once and I could swear her face even shifted a little towards an active frown. “Cause mom wanted to guarantee me a job outside the mines when I was born. So she named me Pickle-jar to steer whatever talent I got towards cooking. Even if it sounded like a colt’s name. I probably would be the stable therapist if she had named me something like Nut-Case or Happy-Pills.”

Okay that one was a little funny cause it was a little true. “I mean, mine named me Sketchy. I was probably destined to draw or become a chem dealer.” Celestia's overflowing harem was that-, it couldn't be!?, the faintest shreds of a smile on Pickle’s face?! And she was capable of making a funny? The world had to be ending again.

“That aside though I didn’t come all the way down here just to give you a psychological breakdown.” just as quickly as it got here the ghost of a smile was gone.

“Was it to give me your secret pickle recipe?” I had to ask with the biggest smile I could manage… It was the only secret in the stable more closely guarded than the overmare’s terminal password.

She stood there in pause for a long moment just staring at me. “Sketchy, I’d fuck you before I ever gave you my pickle recipe.” my heart stopped. Did… did she really just say that? There was a chance?! “And I mean hard, like I’d let your wildest perverted dreams come true hard. I’d tie Tulip up in the corner to make her watch Bronze put a foal in me again and again before I would ever EVER, let you read my pickle recipe. That is what happens in one of your little smut stories right?” her expression got softer for once like her body was trying to remember what the face of someone teasing looked like. More importantly, how did she know about those?!

My face was very red and my nose was very much bleeding. My jaw was just hanging as my heart felt like it refused to pump blood anywhere but out of my body. Was it what she said? Was it how she said it so straight faced like the subject was nothing? Hello darkness at the edge of my vision, it's so nice to see old friends~Weee~

“Sketchy, are you okay?” was the last thing I heard before I blinked and found myself looking up at the ceiling of the room again, though now there was a Pickle-Jar standing over me looking somewhere between pretty and concerned. “Oh good you're awake, I was about to drag you to medical.”

I just laid there looking up at her while my vision flickers between her being one of my sketches on the ceiling or the real her. A few more blinks though and I was able to tell the two apart. “What… what happened.” I groaned not wanting to get up.

“You popped off like a champagne bottle and passed out in seconds. I probably shouldn't have said something so dirty around someone with your… ” I could see her searching mentally searching for the least offensive way to say it “Sensibilities and imagination.” she finished, stepping aside so that I had room to get up before offering me my glasses, must have fallen off. “Probably saw it in more detail than I did.”

It took a moment, but I was able to roll onto my front only feeling a little light headed. “Maybe a little.” I admitted, hovering my glasses back on, I don't think I had enough blood left to go to my face for saying so.

“Look, before you go passing out again, the second thing I came here to tell you, yeah, Bronze and Tulip are pissed and they want to and I quote ‘squish you like the radroach you are’ tomorrow. So I'd suggest you figure out what you're going to do, cause if they spot you at breakfast Tulip-Patch will try to rearrange your face again.”

“Awww fuuuck! Why meeeeee!?!” I groaned/whined down on the floor trying real hard not to imagine Bronze and Tulip curb stomping on me. I knew ‘why me’ but I wanted to say it anyway.

“I’ve been asking that question since kindergarten Sketchy. Also they want to trash your room too. Insult to injury kind of thing.” She looked about the room covered in papers and sparse furniture. “My suggestion, take some time to stash all the stuff you actually care about in someplace you think is safe. Leave a few decoy items in here you really don't care about. Some jumpsuits that aren't your size anymore, some of the paper you never used for full blown drawings, some of your sketching supplies… just enough that they won’t think you knew they were coming.”

I looked around the room too at all my stuff… and they wanted to destroy it? These were all I had, everything I ever made. “I know some places they’d be safe… just...”

“Don't like the idea there are ponies out there wanting to defile your little fortress of porn and solitude?”

“Yeah! Hey wait a minute, it’s not just porn!” my indignation returning with my consciousness.

“Whatever helps you sleep through the off shift Sketchy. I’m going to bed before they catch me down here with you. You should probably sleep too. You’ve got a VERY long day and potential ass kicking ahead of you tomorrow.” she turned to start going when she looked back over her shoulder. “I know you're going to stare, and I'll let it slide this one time so long as you don't bleed out in there.” and so she went.

I blinked to process what she just said about staring and once it finally hit me, never before have I wanted to go back in time so hard just so I could knock the designer of these stables upside the head. How could they not make the one hall outside my room in particular as long as physically possible?! I don’t know if it was real life slow motion or she did it intentionally ,but my hoof slammed down on my pipbuck’s SATS just so I could get every last princess blessed millisecond. That strut, that sway in her flank, the way her mane bobbed with every step. Thank sweet Celestia I drew all those smutty pin-ups for that one techie to crack the civilian restrictions on my pipbuck. I’m not sure if it was the SATS but she was princesses damned sparkling as she went! She rounded the corner at the end of the hall looking back at me and I swear to Luna I think I saw her smiling back at the idiot sitting there on her haunches looking like a red faced dumbass. Then… she was gone, and the world just seemed to grow darker in her absence. SATS dropped and I just sat there, and could feel the dumb smile on my face. I had to thump my hoof on my chest to get my heart going again though, or at least feel it beating again. “Bye~” I giggled and I didn’t know why, I didn't care either, hahaaa! The prettiest mare in the stable smiled at me! I could only hope Pickle didn’t hear the glasses wearing mare she left behind jumping in place and squeeing her heart out.

One small part of my life feeling complete aside I knew exactly where to stash all my stuff. By the time I was done I had several folded jumpsuits, Most of my wall papers in an orderly stack thicker than one of my wrist. Most of my sketching supplies stashed in the pockets, and as for dad's holo-tape? Stashed in the only place more unthinkable to look than anywhere else! In the holotape player in my pipbuck. After all, not even a rock crusher can break a pipbuck… without help anyways. Should have made the stable out of these things now that I think about it.

All my valued worldly possessions organized down into a pile this small was a bit, well… depressing. But I was still too high on a pretty mare smiling for once in her life to care! All of it would be safely stored behind a panel in the back of the janitor's closet next to my room. It's not a vent or anything, just a little void space between the walls that had a panel I could pop off if I pushed up on it. Would make for one hell of a smuggler stash now that I’m using it for exactlly that. Oh well, good thing I’m an artist and not a chem dealer!

The sight of my room though, that's what hurt the most so far. I had forgotten what color the walls were, it was the same of white as the rest of the stable just with significantly more chipping and rust that I’d covered up. All that was left were a couple dozen scratch papers gently fluttering on the walls, a few pieces of my more worn down charcoal sticks, the shattered remains of a pencil down to the nub, three jumpsuits hanging from a rack that haven’t fit since highschool and my bare sheetless bed. The only thing left in here I could care about was the mattress, the only mattress I had ever known in all its dingey glory. This mattress had taken me from bed wetting filly, past horny cry baby teenager, all the way to horny young adult with social anxiety… precious times. Figured I’d have my first time on it too, but like hell that's ever gonna happen right? It was MY mattress… Yeah Bronze and Tulup were probably going to fuck it up, and getting it repaired or replaced would be at the bottom of everyones to-do list, but what could I do? Now all that was left to do was flop face down in bed and try to drown in all the super inappropriate things I was going to do to dreamland Pickle-Jar. This is gonna be-

“Good morning Stable 83! This is your dutiful overmare BlueBurst and today we have some special announcements!” came over the stable intercom the INSTANT my eyes closed. My pipbuck shift alarm was beeping that horrible horrible beep that had ingrained pain reflexes into every generation of pony forced to wake up rested or not.

My eyes shot open with the same force as if someone had smashed a bottle over my head and hopes within. My face is half buried in the bare mattress. “You sick evil bastard… You cheated me… why brain? I trusted you with this one precious thing. This one sacred task of letting me lucid dream spanking flanks with dream Pickle… And you give me the instant tomorrow treatment?!” I despaired feeling my soul drain out, replaced by the spirit of rage. “I’m gonna fucking kill you brain. The instant I figure out how I’m gonna drag you to the lowest circles of hell!” I glared death into the oblivion of fabric before my eyes hoping that the pink organ that hit the fast forward button knew I was coming for him! Never before have I wished such violence upon the cartoonish personification of one of my organs! I’d strangle him!!

“I’d wish everypony a wonderful and productive shift on yet another beautiful day in stable 83 Buuut today's announcements are a bit speciaaal! I know it was another long and productive shift for the night crew, but we need everypony awake for the good news!” the overmare’s voice crackled away over the intercom.

I noticed how she didn't say ‘I need everypony awake’ like saying we instead of I made everypony less upset about being forced to stay awake… which sadly it did. The overmare was always doing little things like that. “Today is going to be weird isn't it?” I groaned using all my might to move one hind hoof off the bed and whether it made it to the floor or not I started to move the other, both becoming the heaviest limbs in the world at the moment.

“Thus to compensate for the loss of sleep time we have decided to make today just a little more special! Everypony gets the day off!” I could just barely hear the collective cheers from across all the stable above me, it just became a two day weekend. “Hurry along to breakfast now, my little ponies. We want you full, happy, and awake for the news! Oh and today's special is Pudddiiing! Courtesy of the reclamation team.” The overmare chimed to a smaller stable wide cheer before the crackle of the intercom being cut signaled the end of the announcements. Wow, the reclamation team managed to find a barrel of pudding in the abandoned sections? Someone must have stashed it decades ago.

I managed to flop my way out of the me-shaped indent in the mattress and onto the metal floor before getting up and hovering my glasses from my desk onto the bridge of my muzzle. Today was going to be, ughh… a day. Can’t hide in here, can’t hide in maint long enough for things to blow over, and like hell I could pretend like my outburst yesterday didn’t happen. Maybe… maybe I could apologize and talk my way out of them stomping my face in too hard. I paced knowing the clock was ticking down to the inevitable assault on my fortress of solitude, and I really did not want to be here defending it when the attack came. Okay, maybe, just maybe if I weep and grovel they might not hit me so hard… or kick me in the dock too many times. Sounds like a half reasonable plan. I just… gotta do it. I looked at the door knowing I wasn't going to come back through it anywhere near as in-tact as when I left. I don’t know how long I stood there as scenario after scenario of getting my ass kicked went through my mind, but soon I found myself closing the door behind me. Just think of what to say sketchy, act like it was just any other day, and when they confront you use every last ounce of my social skills to talk them down. I’m doomed.

Two flights of stairs later and I was back up on the main floor, a lot more crowded than usual, but everyone was getting the day off. Maybe a foal was just born? Maybe one of the overmare’s friends wanted to publicly propose to their special somepony again? Maybe we finally stuck a new ore vein after all these years. One thing was for sure, I was getting an increasing number of looks from across the atrium as I made my way over to the cafe. The area is another alcove off the atrium just like the chapel, though larger and more open concept lacking any kind of front wall or door. The red and white checkered tiles, four little red chairs to each of the dozen staggered tables. Ponies always made such a fuss over rearranging them every year. Even or odd, over here or over there. Light came from the much less moveable ceiling fans and the lights over the trays of bulk food prepared on the cafe counter. It was a pick what you want situation during official meal times, but you could cash in food tickets to have them make something specific for you during off hours. There were trays to take and slide along a little metal grid infront of all the serving bins, the only incentive not to stack your plate high was peer pressure from those behind you. There was the line and here was me standing in the back of it probably looking paranoid as can be. I had almost gotten to the trays when it happened. The sound of several ponies hoofsteps behind me.

“So you finally crawled out of your hole creep?” yep, that was Tulip-Patch sounding even more indignant than usual and If I guessed correctly the two other ponies with her were either her usual posse, her fuck buddies, or both. Probably both. The only mare I knew who could get a train run on her one night and then boss the same bucks around like she owned them the next.

I sighed knowing it was starting and stammered “M-Morning Tulip...” the words came so begrudgingly, even more so the effort to look back at her.

Yeah she looked pissed, like she was wondering just how she was going to try and beat me up again. Hopefully not too pissed to forget the only times she got away with it was during one of her little ambushes. “You sure you're a mare? Cause far as I can tell you either got balls bigger than any buck in the stable or you're as dumb as one coming out in the open like this. Especially after yesterday.” Of course she went insulting my maredom right off the bat.

“I wouldn't know Tulip, you're the stable’s resident expert on massive balls, you tell me?” I rebuked. Where the hell did that come from!? What happened to begging and groveling?! Why did I say that? The taken aback looks from the yellow unicorn buck to her left and blue mare to the right of the fuming pink earth pony gave away how weak they thought I was. Really made them think that the scrawny mare with glasses might actually have a spine.

Tulips cheeks got about as red as her mane and I thought I could see a vein in her temple twinge. “Oh you must really want me to rearrange your face again, creep.”

“N-no I just want to get breakfast like everypony else and e-enjoy my day off.” I glared back as I felt anger coming down from my head and fear welling up from my gut. I was mere feet away from pain.

I got a pink hoof firmly grabbing my shoulder. “You think you're ever going to eat here again? After what you said?” her tone said it all. They didn’t want to attack me infront of everypony. My eyes going from hers to the well saloned hoof.

She was touching me…

“Be grateful some of us are willing to let you eat whatever the radroaches do down in maint for the rest of your pathetic life.”

She’s touching me…

“Cause if we ever see you up here again your going ass first into the recycler, AFTER we break your pencil legs. Maybe then you’ll finally be useful.”

“Stop touching me…” I said meekly, nearly mumbling as all thoughts but her hoof on my shoulder faded into obscurity.

“What was that?” she smirked and leered, shaking me a little. “Couldn't hear you. I know that's how it’s supposed to be, but you don't have that old ass pastor’s wrinkly dick in your mouth at the moment.” pushing and pushing… was all she was ever good at.

“I said stop touching me…” I said a wee bit louder, my vision narrowing.

Now she was shoving with every sentence. “Wow, not even gonna deny it huh? Figured that's what you were doing every time you went into that chapel. Figured a freak like you could only ever get it on was with somepony who could’t any-” she wasn’t going to listen.

“Stop touching Meee!!” I finally screamed. My body twisting and whirling around putting all my momentum into my left forehoof. Tulip didn’t see it coming, she was still back on her insult being interrupted right before said hoof crashed across the side of her face. It felt like so much energy and anger welling into my chest, limbs, and face. Everything slowed down to a crawl. The force exerted both knocked my glasses off kilter and staggered the pink mare to the side. The eyes of everyone around widening as they started to back up from the scene if they hadn’t already when the confrontation started. The looks of shock like a balefire bomb had just appeared in the middle of the stable.

Things felt like they sped up just enough for a very astonished looking pink mare to sit back up looking at me like the impossible just happened… like I punched the bully out of her. “You… you fucking hit me?” her cheek looking scuffed as could be from blunt force and her groomed mane messed up a little. “You scrawny bitch… How could you-”

The answer to the question I could assume the rest of was answered with another hoof across her face followed by me tackling into her, well less tackle and more of a pounce. I don’t think ‘Aghhhh!!’ ever stopped being screamed as I laid over her slamming the same hoof into her face over and over again as hard as the fury would let me. I think by hit number five it got super predictable and there was a brief flash of pink. Cracks running up my left lens as I was knocked off of her and onto the floor. Why did my face hurt?

She was quick to get up, that was earth ponies for you I guess. “You've split your bit! Last straw, you're dead!” By the time I was getting up I was already getting another pink flash in the face followed by pain and the cracks growing. Glasses askew when I felt a hoof in the side knocking me over again, back first into a table this time. Chairs knocked out of the way and other pony’s breakfast spilled on the tile floor beyond.

After I was done coughing one hoof held the side of my face Tulip had been hitting. She looked like she was taking all my earlier hits better than I was taking just two. She approached, probably intent on stomping me till I stopped moving. My hooves slipped on the tile floor in my attempts to force myself up with speed. She was stronger sure, at least by comparison to how squishy I was. One thing I knew was that I was smarter than miss ‘get plowed by the only buck teacher in 83 for a C’ coming at me. Why did I remember that little tidbit now of all times? Focus brain! Everypony attending this thought bubble already knows she's an easy mare with a penchant for violence! She may be royally pissed at me, but her eyes were on my horn. Of course! She thought because I was squishy it meant I would rely on my magic more heavily. Assuming makes an ass of you and me after all and I intended to be quite the ass in the next few seconds.

She lunged the instant I made my horn glow with no spell in particular. “Oh no you don’t!” Tulip gave away exactly what I thought she would do, she didn't want me to focus on casting at all. Good thing that wasn't the plan! My right forehoof grabbed a nearby mug that'd already spilled its contents, and brought it across the other side of her face mid tackle. Never before has the metal thunk of stainless steel sounded that satisfying, especially compared to the usual ‘something important broke’ thunk we usually got down in maintenance. That felt… so goooood! I’d almost turn down actual sex to feel that again. I was learning all kinds of fun and new emotions today! Like how fury and bliss could drive a scrawny mare with busted glasses to try getting over Tulip again.

“What? Don’t like being the one getting your face smashed in for once?!” The mug was proving to be FAR more effective than my bare hooves. The sounds of everything else going on around me just blurred into the back of my rage fueled mind. I think some ponies were cheering, some pleading with us to stop, others calling for security, and a few betting meal tickets, I couldn’t think why. This was something personal, between me and Tulip, their voices didn’t need to be involved, all that mattered was the growing red smear on the mug. Just me and her… everything melting away as I just couldn’t stop… why did I need to stop? Things may have been growing increasingly surreal but I didn't care. The floor tiles below us were changing size and growing monochromatic, my hooves shrank a bit with every swing, Tulips semi mashed face shaving off a year with each swing.

“G-Get her off meee!!” I heard a cry from below but the echoing voice didn't sound like the filly that was currently under my tiny hooves. I got one more swing in sending blood and a few teeth spraying like a fan across the tile floor of the bathroom. That was when I felt the pair of hooves coming up into my gut pushing me off her, it hurt… alot, and I felt this all over urge to wretch, but my stomach had nothing left to give after last night. I was knocked back onto the bathroom floor, I felt my glasses come off and clatter across the floor sounding a whole lot more broken than before. Yet when I opened my eyes I could see the 1st floor mare’s bathroom clearly. The stalls, the mirrors, the sinks, all mostly spotless like usual if not in slightly more muted tones. Across from me was a pink filly looking about as beaten and battered as I felt moments ago. Her flank blank and spitting out a blotch of red onto the pristine floor as she looked at me with fear and fury. “You're gonna p-pay for this! Pickle’s ass is Mine!...mine…mine…” she stammered starting to come at me again, copies of the pink filly left in her wake.

I gritted my teeth and my horn glowed briefly for some reason as I reached for a stall door suddenly finding myself a lot closer. “You think I’m gonna let you rearrange my face again?!” I screamed, words echoing and devolving into a high pitch squeal like a microphone slightly too close to a speaker. Pushing my hoof as hard as possible to slam the stall door into her face knocking the little pink whore onto her back once again. “Do you?!” my mouth moved, it screamed, yet I heard nothing. “Never again! Never again! Never again!” I yelled over and over. I was on top of her again yet I don't remember moving. I felt faint pressures on my shoulders and sides, something, somepony pulling on me as I brought my forehooves held together down on her muzzle. I heard screams… they weren't mine. I think they were hers, but there was more than one. Yelling… somewhere far away. I brought my hooves down again except this time they were further apart with… a lunch tray? Held between them bringing the long blunt edge of pressed steel down across the bridge of her muzzle. “Never again!!” I didn't count how many times I heard the crunch, or the ping of metal impacting, or how far the red spread up the flat sides of the tray. Just the unending urge to scream alongside the others mixed in with the high pitch whining in my ears. Gravity seemed to stop, red drops rising from the floor as I began to feel myself float away, I didn’t question it, I could only swing the tray sideways one last time before she was out of reach, adding another layer to the fan splatter of red off to the side. Huh…the tray was gone, the bathroom around me was blurring away, the tiles on the floor started shifting back to the red and white checker pattern. The floor was a mess and I could feel my chest heaving, my legs were starting to shake, everything was hot yet I wanted to shiver like I was freezing. Things moved so slowly, even the beep from my pipbuck for when SATS was done recharging… When did I use SATS? Why were things moving? Was somepony dragging me? I looked up to see a hazy black buck and a pair of unicorn mares in security colored barding dragging me by the collar of my stable suit away from the cafe. Dad?

“Somepony get her to medical now!” I heard from somewhere, things were steadily speeding back up, and the tingle in my legs crawled up the rest of my body turning into lethargy and ache. I looked down to see a number of ponies running to a pale pink Tulip curled up on the ground in a pool of red, quivering, bawling, holding her muzzle while medical ponies gathered around.

“Daddy?... Wh-what happened?” I asked far weaker than I expected it to. I felt so tired… didn't I only wake up about an hour ago?

One unicorn blinked and looked at the older black buck and got out a ”She’s your-?”

“Not the time Lawshine!” he gruffed, sounding far more upset? Angry? In pain? I don’t think I ever heard him talk like that before.

Level Up!
Perk Unlocked: Surrealist’s Rage!
You've finally had enough of other ponies who don't understand you. Time to let a little contemporary surrealism play through you. Paint things red and strum new cords with instruments over heads. When below 20% health time slows and reality distorts. Your damage threshold increases by +20 and damage dealt by 20%.