The Search For Sunset Shimmer

A few calls later from her cellphone and Skippy tracked a number of possible sightings of Sunset
Shimmer with a little help from her contacts. On her phone she marked a number of key points
around the city, few of them anywhere close to her current location, unfortunately. While she
worked, Starr suited up in a similar, form-fitted outfit to her sister Baretta and readied a sidearm of her own. They even offered her a firearm, which she turned down with a shake of her head.

Baretta raised a red-hot eyebrow and inquired, “You got any combat skills?”

“Uh...I can bunny hop?” She tittered nervously, her white hands clutched to a camera suspended by a strap to rest between small, freckled breasts.

“That won't do. You can always run when a scrap breaks out. Guess we'll have to watch your
freckled butt.” Baretta looked over her shoulder, while she made certain her sidearm was properly
maintained and ready. “Lock-and-load, sister. Never know what can happen out in the city.”

“I'm on it,” answered Starr with a porcelain doll-like smile and sweep of her dense red mane. A
compartment open with a low whir on the side of a thigh, where she removed and unfolded a
collapsible cannon, the pair of gynoids able to store a small arsenal in their synthetic physiques.

“Handy,” noted Skippy with a low whistle. “I'm almost tempted to purchase an upgrade! Almost.”

“I take it you're a 'Natural' Hoppy,” said Baretta with a dismissive frown, a hand on her hip.

“That's Skippy! And yeah, I don't have any cyber-enhancements or junk like that” She beamed with
quiet pride at that, since she thought that was a fad that would pass...someday. A shame she didn't know any magic tricks, either, but she'd always found ways to evade trouble in the past!

Then, when the reporter looked around the walled, overstuffed apartments, her freckled face fell. A reminder that most of the pople here wouldn't even be able to make that choice. Most of them would never be able to escape their desperate lives, while she was simply a tourist here, who made her way on their misery.

For a moment, she was tempted to scatter of burn her photos. But no. She needed this story! She could always tell the tales of people here, maybe interview them later...and fill her purse, too! Wouldn't they all win in the end...?

After they were all packed up, the three of them descended the stairs, which rattled under their feet. Occasionally, she'd stop to snap a few more photos, even while a small guilt gnawed at her.

Winds howled around them, and rattled the stairs some more, as they made their way in the darkness. Skippy paused to stare at the moon, framed by an ocean of stars, and snapped another photo, so entranced she was oblivious to the winds that whipped up her short skirt and exposed cotton panties, decorated in little polka-dots to match the freckles that adorned her stark white skin. Her bunny ears twitched absent-mindedly like her button nose when she worked.

A man below peeked out a window and leered up at her. His own camera zoomed in on a close-up
shot of her pert, panty clad ass, and the faint imprint of cameltoe with a cheeky wave.

She pulled and held her short, yellow skirt down and blushed furiously. “Creep,” she cried, while Baretta laughed. He ducked back inside when she hopped, several flights at a time, and yelped when she misjudged and almost slipped off the side, where she barely righted herself before she tumbled over the rail. “Whatever asshole, you're not worth it! Hope you liked the upskirt shot!”

“I think he's one of our usual clients,” noted Starr with a doll-like smile when the sisters reached her. “I don't think he meant any harm, but we can always talk to him later, if you like.”

“Forget it,” said Skippy, who waved the idea away and lowered her camera. “Maybe I should be
flattered. Anyway, how can you stand to live like this every day? All this filth and clutter, packed in
like a bunch of rats! It's so claustrophobic! I'd probably burn this whole place down!”

“You get used to it. Sure beats a bloody battlefield anyway,” said Baretta distantly.

“Yes,” said Starr. “It's...mostly peaceful here. Compared to the city outside.” The gynoid sisters also paused to study the sky, and the moonlight exaggerated the skin-tight black-and red attire which conformed to their physiques like a second-skin, their breasts, hips, and butts emphasized, all but their unmentionables on display, despite how the suits served as armor.

With a low whistle Skippy snuck a shot from behind, a 'Money Shot', as they'd put it! Her camera zoomed in, to sneak a couple butt shots.

Soon, they reached the bottom. Starr paid the fair for a hover-cab, not too far away from the walled-off apartments once they reached the familiar neon streets. While the scenery raced by, Skippy wrote a few notes to herself in a journal, but was careful not to list any sensitive information about her new friends, not even their names. She couldn't afford to blow this opportunity, not when she'd yet to really prove herself! Especially since her rival was probably out on the streets, too.

The story of a lifetime, and she might not even be able to tell it! Hopefully an encounter with
Sunset Shimmer would prove more promising, and finally allow her to land her breakout story, wherever the hell the flamed-haired beauty was now. She studied the mass-produced gynoids based on Sunset, who'd taken on lives of their own. At a look, she wouldn't have known the connection, since the dolls had been so altered.

*****

Trance and electronica music filled a club which shook from the volume. The brilliant lights flashed around the dancers that thrashed in rhythm to the music, among them Sunset Shimmer herself, who'd arrived in a black jacket, top that bared her midriff, short skirt, and fuck-me boots. Not that she'd likely wear most of that much longer, since the club had a 'clothing optional' rule and many clubbers, some men and mostly women, had already started to or already stripped to the buff. Clothes were collected by the bouncers, the floor soon a of sea of nude flesh.

One of those included the owner and DJ herself, DJ-PON3, also known as Vinyl Scratch. Aside
from her futuristic neon shades and headphones, she worked the turntables naked, like most of the
population still human, but more anthromophs popped up on the daily with the Elements of
Harmony revival's fallout. Vinyl shook her medium-sized tits and hips to the fast-faced rhythm, her spiky hair whipped about her. Her nipples stiffened up in the cool club air, which tipped her perky, medium-sized tits as they swayed and rippled with provocative movements.

Few ever dared broke one of the DJ's rules, since not only did she keep a number of bouncers on
hand, some with cyber-enhancements of their own, but a number of turrets lined the overhead,
ready to fire on anyone that attempted to dared to attempt use of lethal force in her presence.

Sunset couldn't deny the weapons made her a little uncomfortable. That aside, she couldn't exactly blame the DJ, not after the last time her club had been raided by the ex-president's goons. First, she tossed her jacket aside to a bouncer, who caught it and added it to a pile of clothes others had thrown aside. She scouted the dance floor, determined to find someone she could blow off steam with. Man or woman, human or anthro, she didn't particularly. Just that they were incredibly and up for all kinds of kinky fun!

She considered each prospect when she scanned the mobs. Dismissed each one for the moment. Some were human, anthro, with a mix of cybered-up or 'Naturals', all a cornucopia a potential pleasures for her to revel in...

Briefly, her eyes drifted back to the DJ, up above the dance floor, where her bared breasts
continually swayed back-and-forth with each wild movement. Those slopes, like the rest of her perfect ivory skin, were adorned by a shiny sheen of perspiration. Would she accept...?

“No time like the present. Worst she can do is shoot me down,” she said to herself.

She started to ascend the stairs, closer to the turntables. Bouncers started to move in, stopped when they recognized an old friend of the DJ, and started to pat her down. “Standard procedure,” one told her, and she nodded that she understood. A few of their hands lingered a little more than necessary, not that she blamed them!

Finally, they parted to let her pass. She steeled herself with another drawn-out inhale.

From where she stood, Sunset drank in a lovely view of Vinyl's round, delicious ass, bare like the
rest of her. Her black boots crunched on the floor when she strode closer. “Hey! DJ-PON3!”

Vinyl lifted her neon shades to show her eyes. She smirked at her, then nodded at her body.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, it's only fair I strip down too, if I want to be up here with you!” While the DJ rarely
ever spoke a word, Sunset had learned to ready her body language well, since they'd clicked from
the moment they'd met. First, she lifted her top, until her bare breasts beneath toppled free.

Vinyl whistled in appreciation and slyly leered, her eyes locked on Sunset's more sizable bust,
topped by wide areola, her nipples stiff in the cool club air, yet wet from the sweat she'd worked up.

Next, she undid and stepped out of her skirt, then her panties, until she fully bared herself. Last she started to reach for her boots, when the DJ shook her head. “They usually tell me to leave
the boots on,” said Sunset with a chuckle, who walked over and cheerily embraced Vinyl.

They kissed, hands around each other's waists as the turn tables were momentarily set to work themselves, and their breasts crushed and their erect nipples caressed, which produced an electric tingle in their tits. Palms were smoothed down their supple, feminine contours.

Their lips smacked and their tongues danced as they closed their eyes, lost in the moment when
their hands drifted down hips and cupped buttocks, Sunset tempted to let the DJ bend her over infront of the crowd and let her fuck her with a strap-on in the middle of the latest track. Vinyl wanted to do the same, as she kneaded her ample buttcheeks, which rolled and parted at her touches when she sank into her ample buttflesh.

Threads of saliva connected their lips when they withdrew and Sunset heaved her sweaty breasts,
illuminated by the neon flashes. “S-so...should we take this somewhere more private? Or...?”

The DJ's smirked widened with a shake of her head, and squeezed her asscheeks harder.

“Ooh...kinky! Well, it IS your club.” Already, clubbers below stared up at them, and watched them kiss and feel each other up, with the promise it would shortly lead to even more. “So, do you still keep some, er, toys on hand? Or...”

The DJ shook her head, and a translucent unicorn horn manifested on her forehead in a sparkly puff of raw magic, which shimmered a neon shade of electric blue. “Whoa. That's new.”

Ripples from the return of magic continued to manifest. Sunset gasped when the DJ, who ignited
her horn to manipulate her magical aura, started to prod and probe into her lower holes, while her
hands reached out and fondled her breasts and buttocks. Sunset moaned in appreciation.

“I-I have to learn a trick like that,” murmured Sunset, whose eyelids fluttered, hopeful she could become a pseudo-unicorn too. Full anthro mutations appeared to be more common for 'Naturals', and she'd only ever installed small enhancements. She felt up the DJ too, pinched and played with Vinyl's smaller but still quite supple assets. Her fingers traced and wormed their way into the DJ's slit with a wet squish, as she curled into her hot, sticky pink folds.

They whimpered and mewled a bit while they explored each other, oblivious to the crowds that
recorded them with their phones, not that either of them particularly cared. Faster-and-faster, she
finger-blasted Vinyl, who also picked up speed when her aura spread and hammered her orifices, with squishes and squelches to the beat.

Thankfully, the DJ chose waterproofed equipment, because they would soon squirt a little over parts of the machinery, but mostly on themselves and each other, their knees left to wobble from a shared, drawn-out climax.

Vinyl whimpered, but didn't say a word.

“Hell...yeah...” Sunset squeezed her lower holes, and felt Vinyl do the same as they finished. The pair of them huffed and collapsed to lean on the turntables, which skipped when they crashed into
them. The pair of women blushed deeper and shared a laugh while their breasts heaved.

So caught up were they in the moment, neither of them noticed a new guest that made her arrival.
A unicorn mare in a monochromatic costume, which included a pointy, wide-brimmed hat, a cape which flowed behind her, and a scanty outfit which emphasized her considerable assets.
Bouncers at the entrance, who'd moved to halt her, were dismissed with a casual wave of her hand, and crumpled at her heeled boots into a deep slumber. Garters connected to thigh-high, heeled boots when she strode onto the dance floor, swathed in a series of flashy neon colors.

A mob danced around her, many half or fully naked, but she ignored them. Instead her narrowedeyes focused on Sunset and Vinyl Scratch up above...and the turrets stationed on the ceiling. First, with a subdued click of her fingers, she manipulated the turn-tables.

Scratchy, discordant music filled the club. Many of the dancers covered their ears and shouted at the sudden noise pollution. Boos were drowned out, until unrest spilled across all the clubbers.

Sunset and Vinyl snapped back into action. “What the hell...?” The DJ shrugged when she tried to
retake control of her equipment, but they realized this hack was beyond any they'd ever seen. It was beyond military grade, at least any Sunset ever encountered in her time with the mercenaries, beyond her own skills to counteract.

Vinyl paid for the best defenses possible, but somehow they'd been cracked. She tried to shut it down entirely, as the abrasive music boomed louder by the second. With a frown and shaky hands, Vinyl's horn lit and fired a prismatic neon beam. The laser-like blast collided with her machines, which exploded into chunks with a thunderous crash, melted into a molten heap.

As the music wound down, Sunset cradled her. “You didn't have a choice. It can be replaced.” The
DJ nodded limply with a sniffle, while her bouncers attempted to restore order to the mob.

With another bemused click from the techno-witch, the turrets above whirred to life. Their
targeting systems locked onto Sunset and Vinyl, the latter's eyes widened when she spotted her
defense system turn on them. Desperately, she tackled Sunset when bullets ripped into the air.
Sunset yelped when they slammed to the floor. Gunfire cut a swath in a hail above them. A second slower, and they'd have been hit...!

More screams sounded around the club, who shoved and pushed their way across the interior in a desperate bid to escape, the bouncers unable to hold most of the tide which outnumbered them back. Bullet holes riddled the walls, whenever the turrets rattled and spat more bullets in their direction. Sunset and Vinyl kept prone when they crawled naked across the floor.

Round-after-round fired. Hundreds-upon-hundreds of bullets were released, until the emptied turrets rattled spent, overheated chambers, and stank of burnt metal. An eerie quiet started to settle into a mostly emptied out, ruined club, the walls near them torn apart.

“It's like they missed on purpose,” noted Sunset, aware the system's AI could compensate attempts at evasion faster than a normal human moved. “Why? Did someone want to scare us?”

A muted, choked sob escaped Vinyl's lips. She balled up fists which shook with fury. They peeked over the rail, at the techno-witch below, the one person that stood unperturbed by the incident, clad in a monochromatic costume.

Sunset furrowed her brow. “She looks a little like Beatrix Belladonna," she said in reference to the cosmic traveler that crossed into their dimension,
the 'Cyberverse'. "Or maybe I should say she
looks kinda like Bea's mother, Trixie Lulamoon? They're pretty much twins, color scheme aside! But I've never even seen her before! You?”

The DJ shook her head. When she met their stare, the techno-witch dismissively turned with a whirl
of her cape and her heeled boots clicked on the floor when she, too, strode out of the club while
the crowds outside thinned. The turrets whirred back down. The club went dark, its power supply cut. Cautiously, the pair slowly rose moments later when they were satisfied it was now safe.

Sunset checked on her old pal. “Will you be okay?”

“F-fine,” murmured a shaken Vinyl, who stared blankly ahead at the wreck. “How about you?”

Sunset opened her mouth in surprise, as it was the most words she'd heard her speak in quite
sometime. She realized Vinyl must be really rattled, since she usually chose to let the music and her body speak for her. Yet today, her own home had turned on her, thanks to a mysterious 'hacker' that could appare a 'hex' and override any machines, dubbed the 'Techno-Witch'.

They dressed and waited for the authorities to arrive, not that they could tell them much, other
than the 'Techno-Witch' had apparently been able to hack into the club's systems and override it. In her merc days, Sunset had seen turrets cut her comrades in half or punch holes in them.

She tried not to think about the pandemonium this terrorist could unleash, were she to seize control of Ethernity City's main defenses...