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40747548 No. 40747548
#Closed #Canon: 6A #Chill #Dark #Violence #FiM-only #Serious

And not by accident—someone WANTED it that way.

TODAY IN THE NEWS!
NOTORIOUS TERRORISTS APPREHENDED, AWAITING TRIAL AND EXECUTION!


In the aftermath of a devastating firefight which claimed almost 20 lives, Lonestar has reported the successful incarceration of four of the terrorists connected to the Night of Fire Rampage. The shooters have been successfully connected to over a dozen massacres and grand thefts, including the recent Cornerstone Armored Car robbery. Lonestar's Canterlot-area cabinet of generals has called this an "unqualified success" and "both justification and encouragement for the continuous inflation of our government budget". However, they have also cautioned Canterlot residents against early celebration, and stated that they will NOT be reducing their presence in the city. This motion was condoned by Chief Centurion Royal Blue, who stated that "There are more terrorists out there...and they will not back down this easily".

The terrorists are currently awaiting trial and hanging.


The first rain of the year came on January Eleventh. It was the first rain since the Night of Fire that wasn't made of chocolate. The old standard was new again, and the new standard was locked up in Dead Man's Ridge Maximum-Security Penitentiary. It's not much of an exaggeration to say that the first few days of 57-6A were a miserable time to be an Operator—in between the heightened police presence, the lack of arms coming into the city, and a dozen other things besides, the work had gotten harder and the cuts had been reduced by magnitudes.

Even so, there was no rest for the wicked. What else was there to do, but chase that next big score...?
1139 posts omitted. Last 50 shown. Unspoiler all text  • Expand all images  • Reveal spoilers
>> No. 40830535
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40830535
>>40830526
This mare certainly is a little box of sunshine and rainbows he thought to himself. Of course he stayed quite as she spoke, sipping his drink quite and nodding along as she talks about the state of Lunacy, figuring that he'd be just as messed up as her if not worse.....he then heard the last thing she said....which hit home to Wraith, his grin fading and his sight going down to his cup. It probably was more imagining himself in the scenario. Wraith finished his drink after a moment or so.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

He'd probably guessed it happen recently since he could still feel it in the way she talked and brought it up.
>> No. 40830550
>>40830535
For a moment there, her scowl falters. Perhaps this stallion didn't quite deserve that. She hides her shame, shakes her head, and tosses down another shot with a pained grimace. Afterwards, she sets down her glass, grabs the bottle, and speaks. She doesn't bother to make eye contact.

"...I have to do a few things before I head back to Lunacy," she says, getting straight back to business and not even bothering to retort to Wraith's sympathy. "Namely, I need to drink, I need to drink some more, and I need to drink even more before I finally have to return to my deceased colleague's home to retrieve some, erm... Equipment. In the meantime, I'm certain you can find someone who--..."

She cuts herself off. It's now she realizes there is not a single reliable person who she can send this stallion to. Looks like there's no passing the buck on this one. "...Actually, scratch that. There's nobody else you can reliably talk to, at the moment, so we'll have to wait and see how things roll. I will, however, be sure to contact you, no matter what."
>> No. 40830567
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40830567
>>40830550
He chuckled a bit to himself. More like a happy huff through his nose when he heard her plan for the day. Wraith stayed quite as he moved a hoof over the edge of his cup, making it wobble around slightly as he worked up to speak again.

"It's Wraith by the way."
>> No. 40830579
>>40830567
"Well met, Wraith."

She blinks a couple of times, as if she's trying to re-calibrate her eyeballs. Soon after, she pours another shot. "I'm the Doctor. Just call me Doc, for now," she says, setting the bottle down. With that, she slides the shot his way, and reaches over to grab a napkin and a pen.

"Your number?"
>> No. 40830585
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40830585
>>40830579
"You're no doctor! You don't have a bow tie! D:

"Usually I'm the one asking mares for numbers at a bar." He said with a grin once again. Hoping that that'll lighten the mood a bit more....Probably earn him a slap though. Either way he proceeds to reach out his phone and do the whole thing that people do when trying to figure out their own phone number. After which he puts his phone away.
>> No. 40830595
>>40830585
"Please, cut the shit," she says rudely, almost begging. Once he's done, she takes the napkin, pulls out her own phone, and punches the number in. Soon, she sends said number a text. Said text is nothing more than the number '0'.

"I'll be sure to bring you up when everyone has their shit together. No promises on how long that'll be, though; we're all pretty fucked up, and I'm the most physically able of the bunch. I wish I was joking."
>> No. 40830603
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40830603
>>40830595
Wraith simply gives a nod, getting up from his seat as he figured the Doctor had wanted to spend the rest of her time drinking alone. As he did he gave a small face at what she said about how everyone was messed up worse then her.

"...Fuck man...."

Wraith gave a small chuckle and started to walk along out the door of the club.
>> No. 40830607
>>40830603
She just lets him trot along without saying as much as a goodbye. As soon as he's a fair distance away, she slumps over, rests her head on the bar, and immediately goes back to what she had planned; being alone, drinking, and having the luxury of grief for a night.

Last edited at Tue, Mar 24th, 2015 10:24

>> No. 40832128
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40832128
Finally out from the perils of being recognized in New Canterlot, Igneus drops his even bigger, but just as red self into a stool at the bar along the way. He'd uncovered his husband's deceit and forgiven him, sparked, and even still gotten paid. Time for a little celebration.

Last edited at Wed, Mar 25th, 2015 15:44

>> No. 40832157
>>40832128
Now was the time to celebrate! Doc honestly didn't expect to get out of that whole mess alive. But, after the ridiculous turns of events, they finally managed to get the job done (sort of), and she even met a few new operators. Suffice to say, she didn't like a good chunk of them. But there was one in particular she took interest in.

Not long after Igneus took his seat, Doc trots up and pops a squat next to him. After giving him a quick lookover, she offers a short wave. "Good afternoon!" she coos, smiling wide as she orders a drink.
>> No. 40832174
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40832174
Pretty white and sad. That was the word Lonestar apparently used for her, even as her operations cause theirs to go bankrupt. There might be some cruel satisfaction in that thought but, like always, brooding on the future was much more comfortable for her. She took a seat, not inside the bar, but out a little towards the edge of the wastes. In part for some peace and quite but mostly to toy around with her latest purchase. The Thunderbolt Assault shotgun. The very gun that killed her, if she recalled correctly.


Truth be told she did not recall much at all of the event. It seemed a lifetime ago. Funny how much has changed. From Beesting revolver to an explosive BSAR and now to this. From the Winter soldiers to Lonestar and now...she was not sure. Probably nothing good but at least she had time. Time to spend toying around with dangerous shotguns near a radioactive hell hole, overdressed as always, contemplating a future that seemed to change on the turn of a dime. In some ways it made her pine for simpler, more heartless times. Maybe some mutated rat could show up and she could give this thing a proper try. For now she was content to pick it apart, examine its mechanisms and brood over things to come like she does a thousand times over. The more things change, the more they stay the same, as the saying goes.

Last edited at Wed, Mar 25th, 2015 16:31

>> No. 40832264
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40832264
>>40832157
He flashes a quick grin back, shifting his seat to give her a little more room at the bar. "Wasn't sure if anyone else was gonna stop here. You're... uh, well all I know is Doc, yeah?" He chuckles, leaving it up to her to maintain confidentiality.

"Definitely appreciated having someone really trained for that sorta work. The big blue one's our patch-up guy, but... he gets by on bootleg manuals and the like."
>> No. 40832291
>>40832264
"Yep, that'd be me," she replies, grabbing her margarita. "Just call me Doc, for the time being."

After a quick sip, she offers him a smile. "Glad to be appreciated. Sometimes I question whether or not getting a degree was worth it. But, then I think of the people I work with. Perhaps it isn't the most glorious job, but I'll be damned if it isn't one of the best," she says with a bit of a chuckle. "--Oh, and the blue one is your--..." She pauses, cutting herself off as she thinks. Then, something clicks, and she remembers. "Oh, you mean the... The big blue one? With the... Oh..."

"...I'm so sorry."
>> No. 40832305
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40832305
>>40832291
"We... manage. Somehow." His own drink arrives, a massive tankard of some dark liquid that appears to be smoking. "And you can just keep callin' me Prometheus, I suppose."

"So... you really are a full-fledged doctor, huh? What're ya doin' out here, then, associatin' with us... lllowlife, types." The last is delivered with a deep, resonant growl, but a friendly grin.
>> No. 40832320
>>40832305
Her ear twitches at the growl, but otherwise, she doesn't have any issues with sitting next to a dragon that's at least four to five times her size. She returns the smile the best she can, though it does falter as she thinks of his question. "Well, Prometheus, it's... Partly by choice, partly by force," she finally decides. "A series of unfortunate events, ridiculous circumstances, and odd luck lead me to where I am today. I'm... I'm still not quite sure what to think of it," she admits, taking another sip from her drink as she looks away for a moment. "Though it's certainly dirty, it has its perks."
>> No. 40832378
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40832378
>>40832320
"Huh... I guess I'm sorta in the same boat. Came from a family background that woulda been an easy path if I'd stuck with it, but I just wanted to get out on my own. Problem is, without a more specialized education, the only things I really had open were heavy labor, and the sorta stuff I do now."

He chuckles. "I was workin' a day job doing demolition work on the side, but that all kinda went up in smoke recently. Not even sure if they'd take me back once I get this whole mess cleared out, on account of me bein' too big to get in some of the smaller places now."

He grins and shamelessly flexes his heavily muscled forelegs before taking another drink. "Still... I've been huntin' for this spark a long time now. I'm just glad it finally hit." He smiles apologetically. "Uh... sorry. Dragon stuff, dunno how much you'd care about it."

Last edited at Wed, Mar 25th, 2015 18:33

>> No. 40832393
>>40832378
"I'm more interested than you'd think, actually!" she says, setting her drink down and turning her chair to face Igneus. "I've always had a fascination with life. It wouldn't be hard to guess, given my profession, hm? And I don't like to toot my own horn too often, but I can take pride in the fact that I know a lot about ponies and other organisms. Most notably, how they work. Biologically, anyhow," she says as an aside. "I took psychology, sure, but it is by no means my strongsuit."

"But I digress. I'm not sure if you know, but knowledge on dragons in the medical field is scarce. It's... Likely due to their nature, sparsity, and the fact that they're built like tanks -- with thick scales and skin to work with making it especially difficult. Dragons weren't even a whole chapter in the books; they were brought up alongside reptiles, and hardly anything was mentioned except for basic anatomy and other information. Among said information was the three stages of a dragon's life," she says, a sly smile on her face. "So, color me intrigued."

"Anyhow, pardon me if I babble on or seem rude or something. It's just that I have a feeling not very many ponies get a chance to talk to a dragon, much less ask very many questions. I haven't been this excited about something like this since I was still in college!"
>> No. 40832424
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40832424
>>40798426
She nods, taking a drag of her cigarette. "Just checking. Didn't want you coming down with something."
>> No. 40832431
File 142733670925.png - (215.89KB , 475x240 , Grin2.png )
40832431
>>40832393
"Huh... I guess I knew, but never really thought about it. There are quite a few dragons around, but I suppose compared to the sheer weight of the pony population alone... well, you get the idea."

He downs the last of his drink and wipes the back of a forepaw against his lips. "I've almost always been around mostly dragons, though. Raised in the family place with my grandfather running the show. It was practically a small city, really. Then once I got here, before I had to lay low I was livin' in this big converted warehouse with a bunch of other dragons in about the same situation. They just put up partitions and installed some basic utilities and called it good."

"As far as that whole deal in the construction yard... uh, you saw me before I wound up like this, yeah? I was bigger than a pony, but not by all that much. You said you knew about our... growth stages. Know anything about Sparking?"
>> No. 40832510
>>40832431
"Yes, I... Noticed. I saw you before you ran off, and before you grew. When I saw you gained some weight, I was confused, at first. But then I remembered what I read about all those years ago."

After taking a short sip of her margarita and licking up some salt, she leans against the bar and tries to recollect her memories. "Sparking. It's when... Oh, my, let's see how much I actually remember. Something to do with acquiring enough magic in one's lifetime to reach the next stage of maturity? Or something?" she asks, cocking an eyebrow at the dragon. "I know it's comparable to a pony getting their mark. It's been quite some time since I've studied. Last time I went over dragons was my sophomore year in college. And that was, what, ten years ago? I think it's been ten years."
>> No. 40833015
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40833015
>>40832510
"That's about it, yeah. For whatever reason... I was significantly late. By decades, even."

He shrugs. "It was really gettin' to me for a long time. Big part of why I left home... 'Course, now bein' this big presents plenty of problems of its own. Definitely prefer it to the alternative, though."

He waves down a smaller refill for his drink. "Of course, I'll keep growin' as long as I live, but much more slowly now. My dad's significantly bigger, but he's a couple centuries older'n I am. And my grandfather's got about six hundred years on him, but he's kind of a special case 'cause he's even bigger than his own father and grandfather."
>> No. 40833363
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40833363
>>40832174
Farasi was not merely out for a walk. That was the answer he would have given if anyone had stopped him and asked, and, since he couldn't lie worth a damn, it would have come out as super awkward and suspicious and probably would have lead to a whole bunch of questions. But, since his actual objective was eluding him, that was what it practically was. His second love, the machine very near and dear to his heart -- he made the horrible, inexcusable, unforgivable mistake to leave without it several times over. He had failed to appreciate her, a lifetime ago. Not this time. If he had to take the whole thing apart and smuggle her out piece by piece, he would. As soon as he found her.

As devoted as he was, however, his sense of direction could use some work, and his memories of their brief affair were spotty these days. So, he found a very different 'her' out in the wastes, one he was much less happy to see. He stopped instantly at the sight of her, certain that he was hallucinating. What could Frost be doing out here? He worked that question over for exactly as long as it took to spy the weapon in her grasp, and what she was doing with it. Getting acquainted with her new toy. He felt an uncontrollable, but mercifully brief, surge of jealousy.

Tempting as it was to just slink off, he suspected that, perceptive as she was and with how little effort he made to soften his steps, she already knew he was there. He cleared his throat nonetheless, and crept just a little closer. His gaze scanned over the weapon curiously. At the very least, it couldn't hurt to say hello; the gun wasn't in a state to be fired yet.
>> No. 40833469
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40833469
>The familiar scene of Canterlot was once again in Gren's view, as she stared out the window of the moving train re-entering the city limits. It was a warming sight to see despite how shit it actually was there, she couldn't help but miss her life and her friends.
>Stepping off the train, Gren quickly realized that her time away from the city has thrown her off as she walked down the streets the creeping feeling of being watched lingered on her.
>Not wanting to stay around the streets for too long, she would quickly make her way back to her old workplace hoping it hadn't gone to ruins during her absence.
>As she arrived she would hastily walk in and lock the door behind her.
>Thinking quietly for a moment in the silence of the shop, she decided to take a seat and call up one of her friends hoping they were still around.
>> No. 40833485
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40833485
>>40833469
"Pbbbfftt..." A quite bored coo passed through the lips of Swiftwing, sitting around the best shithole that the Pit had to offer, he sat over a glass of (mostly) clean water as he stared up at the crummy tv, with his head rested on his hoof. Things had certainly gotten quite interesting after their last mission, and while he had what could only be described as a heart-racing time on it, they were out now, and back into hiding it was for the time being. They got Firejack, they got their money, and at least Swiftwing personally didn't know what to do next, or what the next step for their group would be.

Though it was then he heard a voice calling to him from the MMCS. A faintly familiar voice of a long gone ally. He'd nearly forgotten Gren was out with the 'adventure' of prison and the firejack saga. But hearing her voice brought a smile to his lips as he remembered who it was, he began to speak into his MMCS, picking up the call. "Gren, is that you?"
>> No. 40833492
>>40833485
>Gren would let out a soft sigh of relief as she heard her friend speak.
So you are still alive, that's good news. Yea it's me, I finally got back in town. What's been going on around here, I've been hearing some things on the news, is everyone alright?
>> No. 40833495
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40833495
>>40833492
Swiftwing instantly recalled all of the things that had happened to their group over the last few months of Gren's absence, and while he probably could've talked to her over MMCS, he would rather have seen her. "There's been a lot of stuff going on, actually..." he started off with his reply. "Um, but you think you'd wanna meet up to talk about it rather?" he offered, sitting up a bit in his seat in the bar, a smile on his face as he looked across the counter of the bar, staring into nothing that was the shelf behind it.
>> No. 40833499
>>40833495
Yea sure it'd be good to be around a familiar face again, where exactly are you?
>Gren would check around for something to snack on for on her way to meet him.
>> No. 40833502
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40833502
>>40833499
"We're umm... in the Pit, actually." he replied, a bit of apprehension in his voice, and a sheepish grin crossing his lips as he thought back on the reason they were there in the first place. "The under part of the city. There's an elevator in the middle of town that'll ake you down, I can meet you out at the bottom down here, but I can't really head up to meet you, I can explain it when we meet up."
>> No. 40833503
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40833503
>>40833363

It had been a long time since they had come to this place, as refugees from a world that had turned violently against them. In that time Farasi had learned the art of stealth and had learned it well. Among other talents he picked up. Be that as it may his presence was felt by her, like a sore thumb out on the molted hand of the wastes. At first she made no effort to acknowledge his presence, operating under the assumption that he would simply slink away into the wastes, doing whatever demented zebras do out on their own. But, to her immediate surprise, he did not simply leave her be. Instead he crept forward just a little bit further. He seemed cautious but carrying her new toy, that seemed perfectly logical.

"Something I can help you with?"

She turned her mutated eyes around to face him. Expression as blank as it was back in the room after Sam had cut the lippy prisoner's throat. She was not unfriendly but neither was she particularly warm. Such was the case when her brooding was interrupted. looking at him with her deep blue, reptilian eyes, she fiddled about with the shotgun some more. More than anything else, she was surprised just to see him so far out at the edge.

"What brings you out so far? I thought you would be celebrating."
>> No. 40833510
>>40833502
Well...I guess I'll see you in a bit then.
>Gren would hang up the call, open the door to the shop and head out turning around to lock it once more.
>> No. 40833513
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40833513
>>40833510
Finishing his drink, Swiftwing cooly grinned to himself in a bit of reserved excitement. Before heading out, he finished his drink before making his way out of the bar and down the roads, not bothering to care about the unholy sights and setting of the under city as he made his way to the elevator to wait for his friend.
>> No. 40833524
>>40833513
>The city was much more confusing to navigate than she remembered, as Gren wandered around looking for this elevator she would retake in the sights and landmarks as to not get too lost
>After about twenty minutes of walking in circles Gren would finally find what she was looking for and begin her descent to see her friend.
>> No. 40833527
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40833527
>>40833524
Waiting at the bottom of the elevator, and off to the side, Swiftwing was there, watching the elevator come down with a smile on his face as the gryphon soon came into view. Not much seemed to have changed about him other than a few augments on his hooves, looking like tiny fingers, as well as the scorpion gripping augment on his tail that swished around idly. "There you are, was starting to think you were lost." He chucked a playful bit in addition
>> No. 40833531
>>40833527
Oh you know me I like to stop and take in the scenery.
>gren would laugh and walk over to andrew
So blue why are you down in this dump? What's been going on with the rest of the group?
>> No. 40833540
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40833540
>>40833531
"Hehe, well welcome back Gren, I'm not sure if much has changed up there but I certainly wish I was up there rather than down here." He murred as he began to walk around the Pit with her, no where specifically in mind, maybe back to the bar, but for now he was just happy to be back in the company of another friendly face.

"The reason though, that um we're down here is, we're kinda really wanted after the whole prison break thing, heh.."
>> No. 40833551
>>40833540
Oh yea you guys got put in the slammer, sorry I wasn't around to help bust ya out, but family needed me and I'm not sure helping my friends break out of jail would have been a decent enough excuse to head back here.
>> No. 40833562
>>40833551
"Yeah, nah, it's alright." He replied. "Don't worry about it, we got out of it clean enough. No one died, we all got out, we even got some coin for our pockets." he grinned, as his face was turned to hers. "But so yeah, we're pretty notorious and what not, we gotta lay low for a while."

"But other than that, Igneus and Agatium actually got married."
>> No. 40833600
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40833600
>>40833503
He met her gaze easily enough, though he grimaced all the same. Even behind sunglasses, Frost had a very intense glare. He let his eyes drift around every so often, not only to the gun but just generally all over the place. It made him look a bit like he expected an attack at any moment, from any side. The cleft in his lip widened as his frown deepened.

"I'm just... lookin' for something," he said quickly. He saw no need to lie to Frost; she'd know. He shook his head roughly, looking back to her with a faint frown. "And I'm not much for parties. Kinda bad at them."

He suddenly cocked his head, narrowing his good eye -- the mechanical one, of course, was perpetually wide.

"I could ask you the same thing. Don't need to head all the way out here to maintain a gun."
>> No. 40833618
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40833618
>>40833600

She rose an eyebrow behind her shades. It was funny how she still even had those after so many close encounters with fire. She was lucky to have much of anything at all, come to think of it. Eyes on him and hooves on the gun. As cautious as he seemed to be she was oddly relaxed. Especially considering how far she was and how fine she was dressed. If an attack came it would not be from the Zebra, or at least she was very certain of it.

"So many close encounters later, it kind of starts to lose its sparkle for me. Besides, I am not really in a party sort of mood." She answered simply. Building her gun back up piece by piece. Familiar with the parts, and very sure there would be no mechanical errors this time. Or so she hoped at least. Maybe the gun that killed her would be a little more merciful.

"What you looking for? Is it the mech we scavenged?"
>> No. 40833640
>>40833562
Should I start laying low too? or am I not being looked for. Am I still safe to work in my shop?
>> No. 40833644
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40833644
>>40833618
He initially nodded slowly and politely, the half-pained, half-disturbed look gradually melting into a static mask. However, her striking guess made him jolt again; if he wasn't looking at her before, now she definitely had his full attention. He looked a bit like he'd been caught doing something terribly naughty for a moment, but with a brisk nod, the look was gone. A faint half-smile pulled at the good corner of his mouth, though his not-so-good side seemed to find this agonizing.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted, and for a moment he sounded almost casual. Then the smile vanished from his face. The pained scowl that wound down his left side spread across the rest of him. He nodded again.

"I made a mistake, leaving her behind. I won't make it again. I'm going to find her again. If she's broken, I'll fix her."

He didn't seem to notice using the wrong pronoun; he appeared caught up in his simmering fervor over the matter, sounding as devoted as a particularly jittery priest.
>> No. 40833652
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40833652
>>40833644

If anything else she seemed curious at this new found devotion to the killer mech they had brought back to life. He seemed almost borderline delirious in his quest to bring the killer machine back to working order. It was not as if she could blame him at all. It was a valuable, if not very conspicuous asset but it served them well. That was not the curious part about this all.

"Last I remembered, that machine made you want to puke." It was a casual observation, having finally finished rebuilding her own precious little machine. Now came the very simple task of loading it up. "Had a little change of heart, huh?"
>> No. 40833671
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40833671
>>40833652
"Yes," he bluntly replied. For a moment, he was content to leave it at that, staring at her with wide, bright eyes. Then he broke the stare, glancing about him for the umpteenth time. His shoulders lowered ever so slightly, and some of the energy that put so much tension in his back seemed to dissolve.

"I was... younger, then. Stupider. More... I used to pretend I'm still the same as I was back then, but I'm not."

His eyes were drawn to a spot over Frost's shoulder. He sounded hollow, melancholy, and distant. With a brisk shake of the head, he turned back to Frost and recollected himself. He retained a bit of an airy, dreamy quality when he spoke, though.

"I didn't appreciate her, then. Now I do. Now I... I was blind before, but now I can see."
>> No. 40833686
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>>40833671

He was indeed much different than what he was. He had changed in a dramatic, remarkable way. It was not just the face either. It took her a little aback to see him in this state, especially as she reached further back into her own memories to see how far he had actually come. In some ways she could understand a little of his enthusiasm. Maybe she was the closest replacement to her that he could muster.

"Huh...I see. Sounds like a match made in heaven." She smiled a very hollow smile up at him. She was never good at this, as sly and as coy as she thought herself to be. "No. I guess you are not the same zebra. In a lot of ways. A lot prettier back than. Hopefully she is still around for you to fix. You know how it is over here. Might need to pry some pieces off a few scoundrels and freaks." Ignoring how much of a freak either of them where at this point, she turned around a bit more. He might be mistaken in thinking she was turning the shotgun on him but she stopped long before the barrel could be pointed at him.

"Lot different myself. It's part of the reason I bought this. Aside from it being obviously useful. Personal experience taught me that much."
>> No. 40833703
>>40833640
"You should be safe," Swifwing commented as he continued to trot around the pit, location still not very much a priority to hismelf as he was trying to think of how to fill in and explain the situation to Gren. "You weren't seen around the mission we were put in jail, or the mission we were incarcerated, or the mission we broke out in. You should be safe enough." he nodded
>> No. 40833710
>>40833703
Well that's good, I dunno how much longer the shop could go on without me there. So where exactly are we going, is there a bar or something nearby?
>> No. 40833717
>>40833710
"Well I'm sure the rest of 'em will mostly be glad you're back. Heh.." he commented, not entirely sure the kind of reactions she'd get from being back, only imagining they'd be pretty tame as the personalitiy of the group members tended to be. "Though yeah, we've mostly been hanging out and hiding out at Last Hope, it's a small little town part of the Pit." He added as he started to lead her that direction.
>> No. 40833721
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>>40833686
Pretty. Eska had thought of him as pretty. He wondered, for a moment, whether she would have left him if he had never had his face ruined. The thought was gone soon enough, but it left a lingering bad taste in his mouth. The idea of murdering even more ponies to get at a tool to murder more ponies after that, however, was the least of his concerns. He nodded agreeably. Doubtlessly, it would be occupied. That would be--

The shotgun turned toward him threateningly, the barrel gleaming in the dim light. He could swear he could see her grinning, hoof drifting to the trigger. He jolted back to life -- a trick, of course, her casualness always was. He made to step to the side and realized that she was, in fact, merely looking over at him. His breathing had quickened, and his blood was pounding in his ears, but he forced himself to stay still and meet her eyes.

"... Right. Right, 'course," he briskly replied, nodding like he hadn't just been about to run for the hills. He forced a small, bitter smile up the good side of his face. "M-- maybe this one won't blow up on you as much."

He laughed, though it came out as a series of wheezes.

"Well, whatever you think'll keep you from dyin'. Again." Pausing, his brow furrowed, and he glanced away as if thinking something over. He took even less time than normal, and looked back at her curiously. "What was it like? Dyin', I mean."

He didn't seem to fully comprehend the personal nature of this question; it was layered only in an incrementally larger amount of awkwardness.
>> No. 40833724
>>40833717
So what's it like down here? seems to be really dirty.
>Gren would look around and continue walking along with andrew.
>> No. 40833788
>>40833724
"Um... you pretty much got it, right on the money." He chuckled. "It's a shit hole down here obviously, but we're just kind of roughin' it down here until we get our faces not-so sought out for murder, I wouldn't really want to go back to prison again." he chuckled out as some low-run bar began to get into view that he seemed to be approaching in the what could possibly be considered growing and renovating small town.
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