Midnight

"Did you ever end up getting that ad for us buying cars put up on the website?"

Midnight looks up from the laptop upon hearing my question. "I'm waiting another month - coincide with the shift to pick up or shipping only. I figure we should make another month of profit before allowing you to go hog wild."

"I said I would be better than I was in the past," I protest.

Midnight leans into the back of the bucket seat set near the counter behind me, offering up a sly grin.

"Sure you will. Like how I asked you to name a few cars that you'd love to own, which ended up being almost three hours' worth of a list. Over the span of two days."

"You kept asking questions, which kept reminding me of other things. By the way, you never told me what that was about."

"Boredom - conversation to pass the time," she replies while shifting her attention back to the screen.

I don't believe her. With the 'fun' she had working on the suspension components of the Trailduster and enjoying the extra time we've had to focus on pulling parts rather than waiting on customers, I figure she's looking for a project.

It's rather obvious, but it would be better to hear it from her rather than say it aloud. She already has enough reasons to call me a dumbass.

Now, I am not opposed to a project. But everything I listed off was a dream car that would be almost impossible to obtain for a reasonable price - and in a salvageable condition. There's a line between project and basketcase - and I don't want to encroach upon it.

Maybe I will give her a few cars more acceptable and affordable down the road - but I think it's too early for that kind of planning.

In the meantime, I'm expecting Teddy to show up sometime this afternoon to pick up a speedometer. In fact, I may end up helping install a speedometer - as Teddy wanted to show off the car, and I wanted to make sure the speedometer itself was the issue.

Speaking of which...

A low rumbling exhaust note becomes audible just outside the shop, getting louder by the second. Midnight looks up about the same time the mystery vehicle comes into view from the open garage door.

A robin egg blue Cutlass convertible rolls up to the opening, swinging around to point the nose toward the empty garage bay.

Looks like Teddy is here.

I can't actually tell because of the glare of the sun off the windshield and the chrome - and the paint itself. I wave him into the garage with a chuckle, impressed with what I'm seeing so far.

It's only as he rolls into the shade and out of the glaring sun that I can see him against the white interior.

As well as a passenger - of the pony kind.

Teddy brings the Cutlass to a stop just before the lift and kills the engine. He shares a glance with his passenger, then looks at me.

"Good afternoon," he says with a beaming smile.

"Good afternoon. And I see you have company with you."

"Indeed I do," Teddy says with a chuckle, throwing an arm around his sidekick. "John, this is Starla."

The mare in the seat next to him looks over my way with cool violet-magenta eyes, a pleasing and distinct contrast to the warm white color of her coat. Her golden blonde hair is interspersed with streaks of orange, the color most apparent around her bangs that part around the horn on her head. Here, her hair ends almost purely orange, like the end of a licking flame. It's as if someone took the idea of strawberry blonde hair and cranked up the saturation and contrast several notches.

The rest of her hair stays relatively blonde aside from the orange highlights - varying groups of hair strands that look to be a different color scattered about. It all flows down into a neat braid that drifts onto her right shoulder, also appearing to end in orange.

Maybe it's a trick of the light - I can't help but see striking similarities between her and Midnight in terms of color distribution of hair - though the hues themselves between the two mares are on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Curiously, from what I can see, her front legs are... off. They don't seem to be the same shade of white; while her coat has a hint of cream in it, there's a touch of pink in those limbs.

Teddy opens his door and climbs out, going around the front to get the door for Starla.

"Such a gentleman," she says, possessing the same twang of Southern accent as Teddy. Her voice is rich and mature - yet she's playful enough to offer a giggle and a quick blep of her tongue as he bows toward her.

Once Starla slides out of her seat, I get a better view of the rest of her. Unlike Midnight, she is a pure unicorn - though she matches Midnight's stature, if not exceeding it by a tiny bit. There doesn't seem to be any other markings or coloration aside from her tail, which matches the color of her hair and mane. The last third of it is in a neat braid, mirroring her hairstyle.

I take a moment to glance over to Midnight's corner for the first time since this grand entrance - only to find her hunched down in the seat, her face almost completely obscured by the laptop, clearly on purpose.

She's certainly receptive to company of her own kind...

"Teddy has been telling me about how helpful you've been, it's nice to meet you," Starla says as she sidles up to the counter. She rears up and sets one foreleg on the counter for balance, while she extends the other out for a... hoofshake.

I accept her gesture, noting how her limb has a certain... artificialness to it. The fur is soft, but underneath is quite solid.

The exchange also gives me a moment to note the golden chain necklace she wears around her neck, set off by a heart-shaped locket.

"And this must be Midnight whom I've heard about," Starla continues, her eyes flicking over to my right.

I turn my head - and jump just a bit as I find Midnight right next to me, leaning on the counter like Starla.

"I told you I'm going to put a bell on you if you keep doing that."

"Bite me, asshat," Midnight replies. Her eyes do not stray from our new guest even as she speaks to me.

For her part, Starla offers a generous smile toward Midnight - but she soon drops back to all fours and eases back a few steps.

"The hell is your problem?" I whisper out of the side of my mouth to Midnight.

"It's called being wary. You might want to try it once in a while," she shoots back quietly.

Really? She's paranoid about Starla?

"Don't mind her, she gets broody from time to time, particularly when it comes to meeting new folks," I apologize, shifting my vision between Starla and Teddy.

"Aw, no worries. I get it - and I think Starla can sympathize with you, Midnight," Teddy says, directing his focus to the darker mare.

"How so?" Midnight responds, sounding wholly unconvinced.

"From what I have been told by Teddy, you were an experiment like me," Starla speaks up. "I spent most of my life as a subject to be studied, and with my deformity, there wasn't much reason for me to be around afterward."

"Starla was a subject back in Georgia when I still worked there. I helped with her a fair bit - I suppose I got pulled in by her sweetness to assist as much as I could with 'tests.'"

"As I recall, you didn't help with tests so much as help to keep me upbeat," Starla giggles as she saunters over to Teddy.

"Guilty, I suppose," he admits with a chuckle, leaning over and smooching her on the cheek.

I can hear Midnight let out a groan as she drops down to the floor. But I don't pay her any attention. She's acting like a real brat, and it's already getting on my nerves.

"So you're really another biological pony like Midnight?"

"Mostly. I suppose you're a bit confused by these?" Starla suggests as she raises one of her off-color legs.

"I... well, I didn't mean to be rude-"

"No need to be ashamed - I'm not," Starla reassures me.

Regardless of her dismissal, I feel like an asshole - even if I didn't point out the discoloration.

"When I was born, my front legs were virtually useless - something went wrong when they were... making me?"

Starla looks over to Teddy, who nods his head.

"That term works. No need to be a stickler for my sake, Star," he says.

"You make it sound so much more interesting when you use your words," she replies before turning back to me. "Anyway, my front legs didn't have any joints other than at the shoulder. Even that was limited movement, and it was awkward and painful."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I like to think it made me stronger going through that. But when the time came to... once the head people were done with me, I suppose disposal was next."

"And I wasn't going to let that happen," Teddy interjects. "I suggested an experiment with grafting prosthetics of the robotic kind to prolong her stay - and I suppose in the back of my mind, find a way out for her."

"So off they went, and these came from a Celestia bot," Starla finishes, rearing up and flexing the joints. "I'd say it was a success."

The way she mentioned her legs getting hacked off in such a nonchalant manner is a little disturbing to me. But if it drastically improved her quality of life - makes sense not to miss her original limbs.

"It was a success, and we actually learned a fair bit from the procedure - I can't help but wonder if the information we garnered from that somehow made its way here," Teddy remarks, eyeing over to Midnight. "But anyway, after that - well, the higher-ups were completely done with her, so they left it to me to "dispose" of her."

"And she just happened to be disposed of in your home," I finish for him.

"Pretty much. They didn't ask or demand specifics since I was pretty high on the totem pole of reliability, so it was a perfect opportunity. From there - well, I've helped her to find her passions, now that she's free to live life."

"And you helped me with the basics, like reading, among other things. Smarts have not come easy for me," she teases Teddy.

He reaches over with a grin and ruffles her hair. "You've become one hell of a cook, though. I certainly didn't teach you that."

I can't help but emit an amused chuckle while looking over in Midnight's direction again.

She's found her way back to the corner, though the laptop has disinterested her for the time being. Instead, she's keeping a bead on me and everyone else - sporting no emotions, just a cold, calculated stare.

It's unsettling, and more than a little weird at this point.

"Now, I'm itching to show off this old gal and see what you think - and see if we can't get some working gauges in here," Teddy chuckles, patting the fender of the Cutlass.

Out of the direct sunlight, I can finally appreciate the depth and sheen of the paint - definitely a couple of layers of clearcoat there. I make my way around the counter as Teddy makes his way back to the driver's door and reaches in to pop the hood.

As I meet Teddy at the front of the Cutlass and admire the show-quality paint job up close, I can also feel Midnight's presence beside me once again, like a living, breathing shadow.

So it's gonna be like this, huh?

"Midnight, why don't you and Starla head upstairs or outside while Teddy and I work on this, yeah?" I suggest, turning to her.

"Why?"

"Because I think it would do you good to talk to someone like you. And you're not really going to be able to help with the dashboard stuff."

Midnight doesn't look pleased with my explanation, to say the least. Her muzzle is lined with a harsh frown, further embittered by the instructions.

"Fine. If you get kidnapped, don't expect me to look for you," she grumbles.

"Duly noted. And for God's sake, be nice."

She mutters something else under her breath, but I don't ask for clarification as she struts away.

"Come on, let's leave these two queers to their skin flute duet," she sasses while passing Starla.

Starla, to her credit, keeps a positive aura and smile up - though she does momentarily look a bit shocked by the language.

I have to just shake my head while Midnight trudges up the steps, her fellow refugee in tow.

"Man, I'm sorry about that," I apologize to Teddy.

"Aw hell, John - stop apologizing," he says with a wave. "Midnight's rough around the edges. There's no way around that, and obviously, she's still got a lot of trust issues. I don't think I can blame her."

"Yet Starla is so proper and welcoming - she's the exact opposite."

"Yes - but I've also lived with her much longer - but I'll admit, she was always a sweetheart. Part of the trouble with something organic - your results may vary."

"Middie's been a lot more mellow lately when it's me and her - I don't understand why she's putting up such a fuss today. It's like she's gotta appear like a macho mare or something."

"Well, there's two things there - she doesn't trust outsiders, first of all. Obviously, I'm still very much a stranger, as is Starla and - well, everyone other than you."

"We went out to eat once at that drive-in place and also went shopping once - Midnight was anxious, but she didn't act like that bullshit she just demonstrated."

"Those places also aren't her home - that's not her territory to defend. But did you ever talk to anyone in the store?"

"No. She ended up being approached by a pony bot, and that didn't go so well. Ended up in an argument later in the parking lot."

"Did Midnight get involved?" he asks, a brow raising with interest.

"...sort of. She basically halted it by putting herself in front of me, and then distracting the crazy lady so we could get out of there."

Teddy nods as if he expected to hear that. "John, she's protective of you. Almost instinctually - beyond what I would expect from a Luna model, which was what I sort of assumed."

"She was fine at the drive-in with the waitress, though," I argue.

"Yes, but I assume you were in the truck the whole time. Less she has to protect since you could get out of there quickly in the vehicle."

"So - I mean, what do I do?" I ask, confused by the point and sudden wealth of information and insight.

"I don't really think you have to do anything - after all, she isn't aggressive in a physical manner. Seems like she just resorts to insults or overall passive-aggressive tactics," he explains. "That's the thing with genetic engineering - some things slip through, and I think some animal instincts of whatever they used to make her sort of coincide with the protective and intimate nature of Luna bots. It's actually interesting to think about."

"So... I'm like part of her territory?"

Teddy gets a sly grin. "Or her mate."

I have to laugh. "No, she doesn't want that. I kinda let it slip that I had feelings for her, and she has no interest."

"Good on you to at least be honest - though I'm sorry it didn't pan out."

"Well, I'm leaving it alone now. I value her friendship, and I don't want to ruin that when she has no interest beyond that."

"You might be surprised at what time will bring - today has been a surprise watching her try to keep you safe. Maybe she doesn't really know what she wants," he suggests.

"This is all just so weird," I admit. My mind feels overwhelmed by everything about this discussion.

"Confound these ponies, they'll drive you to drink," the replies with a laugh, lightly slapping me on the back. "But I don't really know, John. You're in uncharted territory - all I can do is make educated guesses on what I'm seeing and hearing. I certainly wouldn't worry about her actually being aggressive in a physical manner - I think if that were the case, she would have shredded me the last time I was here. She listens to you, and she trusts you - just go with it, and don't think too much about it."

"I guess that's about the best advice I can get, so I'll go with it," I sigh. "Now, I need something mechanical to distract myself. This sounded really good rolling up - show off what you got under the hood."

"I was waiting to hear you ask."

Fucking John.

'Why don't you and Starla go upstairs while we work on the car down here?'

As if I'm some stupid child constantly getting in the way.

I stomp my way up the stairs while the two men start up another conversation down below. Meanwhile, I can also hear my 'playmate' tagging behind - in a lighter-stepped fashion.

Part of me doesn't like her at all. She's only greeted me once, and I haven't said anything to her.

I don't know why, I just don't like her.

"This shithole is nothing fancy, so don't get too excited," I mutter upon reaching the landing. "Beats the hell out of a van, I guess."

"You lived in a van?"

"Squatted in a van out back would be the better term, I guess."

Throwing John a bone and not wanting to spend the day completely miserable, I show some decency by opening the door and holding it for Starla to enter first.

She stares at it in awe, then at me.

"What, you've never seen a door? What kind of a heap do you live in?"

"That door opened by itself, didn't it? Is there a switch or something John made for you?" she asks.

"It's magic."

"No, it's not. Teddy assured me magic doesn't exist in the world," she says with a giggle, shaking her head.

Ugh.

"The door handle is metal, I can move it because I have a magnet lovingly rammed in my head that makes it work. Make sense?"

Starla doesn't say anything as she proceeds on and crosses the threshold, but her smile dims as a result of my mild lashing.

I take a deep breath and follow her in, closing the door behind me. At the same time, I try to clear my mind of anxiety and bitterness.

It's fine, it's just a weird old dude and his bubbly horse wife - who I don't trust.

Let it go.

"I've only heard bits and pieces about you - I'm curious to hear about what you've been through, Midnight," Starla says as she eyes the couch.

"You can sit there, I'll sit over here," I instruct her, gesturing with a hoof to either end of the couch.

"Thank you."

"What's so intriguing about me?" I grill her, skeptical of her true intentions.

"Well, your looks for one. I've encountered many bots while out with Ted, and a handful of others like us - you certainly are an eyecatcher."

"You trying to hit on me, or is that an insult?"

"It was a compliment, my dear," Starla says with a half laugh - clearly taken aback by my attitude. "I certainly don't intend to offend you in your own home - and I'm perfectly satisfied with my man."

I can't help but wrinkle my nose in disgust at that descriptor.

"What's wrong?" she asks innocently.

"That's... weird," I manage to push out. "Honestly too much information."

"I'm sorry, I didn't necessarily mean it like... to make you uncomfortable. But you and John..."

"He's a friend, nothing more."

"Oh."

The way she responds rubs me the wrong way.

"Oh?"

"I just got a different impression when I met John earlier. My mistake."

"I was making sure you weren't going to do anything funny," I explain.

"Like...?"

"Attack him? I kinda need him alive to stay here."

"Oh."

The short and inane answer irritates me, but I leave it alone.

"Anyway, like you, I was an experiment to try to make real ponies. They tried making something close to Princess Luna and - well, I came out with these colors. Without wings. Or these eyes. Or teeth," I describe, gesturing to each feature. "Those all got tacked on later. What was their goal with you?"

"Goal? The same as you, I suppose."

"You're supposed to be Luna?"

"Oh, no," Starla replies with a chuckle. "To be honest, I don't believe there were really any plans to make me look like a particular pony. Some might say Celestia but... I don't really see it. It's a passing resemblance, at best."

She abruptly frowns as she finishes her explanation, looking me over.

"What?"

"Your tale is much more unhappy than mine, isn't it?"

I shrug off her concerns. "You got legs to improve your life, I got crap added on for fun, I guess."

"It's more than that- I mean, yes, that sounds awful but..."

"Will you just spit it out?" I snap, flustered by her leisurely pace and demeanor.

"You never had anyone like I did, did you?"

...

"Well that's rather vague, isn't it? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I had Teddy very early on. I don't know why, but he just got attached to me, I guess," she says, blushing through her creamy fur. "It really helped me a lot, felt like among all those faces and lab coats, someone was interested in me for - me. He would stop by to where I was in the facility, and talk to me. There was support there, and I think it helped me keep a good outlook."

"Good for you," I snidely comment. "Not all of us are that fortunate."

"That's my point Midnight," she says solemnly. "I'm not looking for an argument, I'm just trying to understand why someone who is free from the misery she endured would still be so... sour."

"Why do I have to explain myself to you? I don't trust you, Starla. And I don't trust Teddy. I don't trust anyone outside these gates because they haven't proven themselves to me."

"Why should they have to, Midnight?" Starla asks, continuing to endure with heaps of patience.

I find myself utterly befuddled by the question - and her continued laid-back demeanor.

"Why the hell am I going to blindly trust anyone? After what I've been put through, with no one stepping in to say 'Oh wow, we're putting this pony through a lot, maybe we should stop,' why should I trust that anyone has good intentions? Does anyone really have good intentions? The next person around the corner might be someone in the know of who or what you are - and we're escapees. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Is that the way you want to live your life?"

"Fuck no, but it's reality."

Starla doesn't look happy about that harsh reply but remains unmoved.

"And what about John?"

I freeze when she brings his name into the discussion.

"What about him?" I ask cautiously.

"You trust him. Why?" she asks, cocking her head.

"I had no choice. He found me, my back was against the wall. I knew it was a matter of time beforehand, so I sort of studied up what I could on cars to make myself of use if and when the time came."

"Wow, that's pretty smart," she says, blinking rapidly a few times at the notion.

"I'm not really like you. I used to be, but I have circuitry in my head - there are a lot more smarts up there than the average pony," I answer, unable to keep myself from boasting just a bit.

"That still doesn't really explain why you trust John, but can't trust anyone else," Starla says. "What if I wanted to be your friend?"

I scoff at the idea. "Why? What reason would you have?"

"Do I need a reason?"

What?

Starla takes my dumbfounded silence to speak up as she scoots toward me. "Midnight, you know what's most different between you and me? I don't think about everything."

That's obvious.

"I don't examine everything around me, looking for a fault. Why should I? By all accounts, I should no longer be alive - but I was saved by Teddy," she says, smiling as she reminisces. "Every day is a gift because it's a day longer than my original time was meant to last. Why should I concern myself with what could happen in a worst-case scenario? Why assume everyone around me is bad?"

She reaches out with her hoof and places it upon mine.

"Maybe I was fortunate enough to get a head start, and that's why I see things differently - but I give everyone I have a chance to meet a chance to tell their story. Even those that aren't forthcoming - or perhaps not in the best of moods," she says with a knowing smile. "Maybe some of it is what I've witnessed watching Teddy help bots or ponies he's found over the years - I suppose that's sort of rubbed off on me. To be honest, I asked Teddy to bring me, because I overheard you on the phone the other day... and I dunno. I just felt like I should come and meet you."

"So... what, I'm supposed to just start going out and talking to everyone and anyone? Without giving a thought?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," she says, lightly swatting at my hoof. "Give people a chance - you're a stranger to them just as they are to you. How would you like it to have someone utterly freaked out by your initial appearance?"

Instantly, my mind conjures up the debacle at the grocery store. That was a low feeling - I've tried to pass it off as nothing, but that girl freaking out because I looked similar to a show villain...

That hurt. I don't know why, but it bothered me. It still does.

"Just try not to analyze everything. Maybe that's also easier for me, as I have no circuits in my head. Some might say I'm a little dumb - it did take me a couple of years to read and understand other basic things, but I'm proud of who I am."

"Yet you can sit here and spout all of... this?"

She shrugs, a bit of laughter escaping her. "As I said, I've been around Teddy and seen him try to help others. And I may have been helpful on a few occasions as well."

Starla takes a moment to sigh - somewhat unhappily.

"That man really carries a lot of guilt for having a hand in creating us - both bot and living beings," she muses. "I don't know if he will ever feel like he's done enough."

"It isn't really his fault people are greedy," I suggest.

"Oh, you're defending him now?"

"No..."

"You are," she says with a smirk. "Come on, don't play coy."

"I suppose he did give me this," I relent, brushing my necklace.

"Ah, that's where that piece went. I remember seeing him work on it, but I never put two and two together. Now it makes sense," she says, looking at my flank.

"How'd you even get your name?" I question, finding no markings or anything else on her. Even the locket bears no hint as to its origins.

Starla laughs "Teddy. Started calling me 'Star' while helping to take care of me, on account of my project name and number. I don't remember what it was, but Teddy might. Part of it was 'S-T-4-R,' and that's just what he went with. He just decided to make it a little fancier, and I loved how he doted on me. But - now it's your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"Your name! It fits you well, but is there any sort of meaning to it beyond looks?"

"I came up with it. can tell you it certainly isn't based on my project code. 'XGE-BI/EMLP-000/NMM' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue or bring up whimsical fantasies, does it?"

"X.. G..."

"Experimental Genetically Engineered - Bionic Implant/ElectroMagnetic Levitation Pony triple zero "NightMare Moon," I rattle off. "They just kept tacking shit onto my file, I guess."

"And... you remember that." Her voice betrays both skepticism and concern with that notation.

"I remember seeing it along with the imminent termination of my project when one of the dumbshits in charge of me dropped a document while leaving my room. That's when I decided I needed to find a way to leave."

"I'm sorry. Did they at least give you a name while you were there?" she asks, hoping for any silver lining.

I sigh bitterly. "Princess. Apparently thought that was the best way to build me up to go through all this shit like I was special - and I guess because I was originally meant to be Luna. I hated it, and it became more of a sarcastic name anyway as time wore on."

I trail off as another bitter memory floods my mind.

"John didn't know that when we first met, and he used that name. I sort of took offense to that."

"He doesn't seem to hold it against you. From what I've seen, he holds you in high regard - and vice versa."

She pauses a moment.

"But you're just friends."

"Yeah, and?"

"Nothing."

"No, you don't just say that and leave it, what was that?" I demand.

"It just seems like there's... more," she hesitantly replies.

"John... considered it," I begrudgingly admit.

"But you said no."

"Of course I did! That's fucked up!" I shout, exasperated.

"But you care about him."

While she's suggested a new way to look at life, Starla stringing me along with whatever this is has begun to burn me.

"Yes, I guess! What's it to you?!"

"I just thought it was odd you were so jumpy when I approached him earlier. You certainly didn't seem too worried about me doing harm, just... something else."

"You can see whatever you want to see," I dismiss her.

"I also couldn't help but notice you were keen on me sitting here, and you over there," Starla adds with a slight grin.

What the fuck?

"This is my spot. I always sit here."

"This is your spot," she says, patting the center couch cushion." I can smell that. I can also smell the spot you're sitting at. That's a very... human smell."

I scowl at Starla's insinuations. "We're friends, I have no interest in... what you and Teddy have," I repeat.

"All I'm saying is you sort of send mixed messages. Honestly, I believe you think too much - you need to mellow out, and let your mind relax. Just see where life takes you Midnight. Give people a chance. For me?"

"And I take it I'm supposed to start with you."

"I'm not a person. I'm a pony like you. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Honestly, I want to tell her no, just so she isn't right. I want to tell her she sounds stupid spouting all this sunshine and rainbows bullshit.

But I can't deny how happy and carefree she appears... and not even in an airhead sense. She's shared an insight that took time and thought to manifest.

Maybe... maybe I'm just a bit jealous. At some point, life just starts feeling like a burden when I'm glancing around, waiting for something sinister.

Starla is certainly right on one thing - every day I'm alive is a day I probably shouldn't have. Why protect something if I don't even enjoy it? Why did I escape if I didn't want something better?

Starla makes a lot of sense. Maybe there is something to not planning everything out...

"I think I can try," I agree.

Starla instantly becomes excited, bouncing with glee as her face lights up with a huge smile. "You can do it, I know you can! I'll share with you some tricks and little things I've found over the years to help me adjust..."