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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.


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...?
Unspoiler all text  • Expand all images  • Reveal spoilers
>> No. 40747744
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It all could have been so simple.

She could have enjoyed her leave of absence, made some dinner, maybe catch up a little on her studies and return to a community that was taking its first real steps towards success. She felt refreshed. She felt ready. She felt angry. They all had one job to do and managed to succeed at that job, but only at the cost of jailing a whole chunk of her team. One of those jailed being a friend. Everything was looking up but it seemed, no matter where they go, they could never escape the taint of the Pyrrhic victory. So what did she do?

She invited her team to dinner.

She spent hours getting this split-fucking-pea soup right and she was not about to let perfectly good food go to waste just because her team had to go and get captured. She invited everyone left. Her precious Sam, little Gutter, Gren the unknown replacement mechanic and, of course, the beta male zebra hitched up to a pony she dreamed of shoving into a meat grinder. At least to the best of her current knowledge. She set the plates down neatly on the table, put on a smooth jazz track, filled the cups with wine and micromanaged the hell out the dinner table. The rolls where just about ready and, hopefully, company would arrive just in time.
>> No. 40748967
"Don't look at me."

After a moment's time, the strange mare takes her hoof off your snout, and falls back onto her fours. In this instant you afforded a glimpse at her fetlocks--long and unshaven, with an absence of grooming but an abundance of lice. They are the color of dull sapphires, and they sit atop unshod and seldom-shaven hooves. The voice coming from above them is young, and cool to the sound--though a second later it goes white hot.


"Package for miss Snowflake, care o' te' Sickle Corp!"

Presently your brooding is interrupted by a chipper and poorly-educated voice from beyond the threshold.
>> No. 40749000
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She was busy setting up the table for the umpteenth time when she heard the voice from beyond. She even allowed the courtesy of turning down the music as she put on her glasses, buttoned up her silky blue blouse and grabbed her operator pistol. Taking care to hide the thing behind the door as she cracked the door open and gave a peak. Smiling on at the visitor despite her current ill temper. Snowflake and SickleCorp. Narrowed down the reasons for this visit a bit.

"Hey there sport...mind showing me the package before sliding it on in?" She asked behind her bit of door. Pistol at the ready. Paranoid it might have been but you never really know, now do you?
>> No. 40749002
>Blackjack sighed morosely das he walked past a set of tvs in the front of a store, coming back from Burning Bush. Looks like there were some poor sould who got the short end on a job. Probably went in head first and didn't think it through. He felt sorry for the guys at least Still, it's things like these that make him feel better about himself. At least he's out here, semi-free, instead of inside that prison, probably not even free to see the light of day. of course, that's not to say he's hasn't had that experience before. He's had it, more than once, even. He's still got scars, and barely noticeable but stil there, outside and inside. He feels sorry for the names up on that board, but all he can do for them is stand and watch the newscaster spout off and hope them the best

Good luck, and keep strong.

>He felt the rain on his skin and enjoyed the cold water hitting his fur. His whole life was a love and hate relationship with rain. As a kid on the ranch, he loved it, it made the heat of the day rest and he would run out into the rain, playing and laughing with his family. He used to hate rain in the service, though. It made everything cold and miserable for ops. When you're running for your life, the last thing you want is to get caught in the mud and rain and have whoever is after you catch up. Now though, he loved it. It was the feeling that you know you're still alive. The demons haven't caught up to you. You can rest for a little while before running again. he's got plenty of demons, and it's a miracle none of them have caught up yet. Sighing, more contentedly this time, Blackjack starts walking again back to the Warrens.
>> No. 40749004
File 142111916197.png - (117.47KB , 805x146 , Woah.png )
>Feeling the mare pull her hoof off her face, Carnage all but groaned in relief as she turned towards her new cellmate despite their cool protest that she shouldn't only for her to wrench her head in the opposite direction when the unknown mare yelled at her with incredible anger.


>Okay, alright, so her cellmate was a nut who couldn't tolerate being looked at. That's cool, no need for her to go and antagonize someone while each of her legs were cleanly broken at the knees and she couldn't even stand up by herself. When push came to shove Carnage figured she would put that nut in her place after her legs worked again but for now it was better for her to bid her time.

Alright... fine... just chill...

>Carnage continued with a pained note in her face as she ever so slightly turned her body away from the other mare just so she could see she wouldn't properly look at her, even accidentally. If anything it was a relief to know that her cellmate was a mare, it meant that her pained flank hadn't come from this person having their way with her while she slept but rather was just another consequence of the severe beating she'd suffered through. But even if she hadn't been raped while she was unconscious that didn't put her on good enough terms with the cellmate to ask any of the questions she had on her mind, not when any one of them might set the psycho off for another beating.
>> No. 40749065
File 142112448144.jpg - (328.39KB , 668x444 , crowded_prison.jpg )

In a prison, recreational time is a tightly-controlled and highly-valued commodity. In nicer penal facilities--the sort where you'd be if you were an uptown criminal, or a celebrity--you'd be rewarded for good behavior with access to weight benches, computers, or open spaces. However, as if it needed saying, Dead Man's Ridge is not a pleasant penal facility. "Recreation" in this case consists entirely of access to a long corridor roughly six feet wide, which pulls double-duty as the hygiene area: along either wall, over a dozen showerheads are mounted, and constantly flooding the room with a stream of brownish mist consisting of semi-filtered reused water.


As maximum-security prisoners being held for numerous capital offenses, you are afforded exactly 15 minutes of recreation time per 12 hours. During this time you are clapped in reigns and halters and escorted to the recreation chamber: along the circular walkway that rings the wall outside your cell; down the elevator that leads to the recreation floor; and through the small corridor that leads to it. Then you are released and set loose.

And then, no fewer than thirty seconds later, one of the Lonestars will shout into the room:

"500 creds for anyone who brings me the new boys' cutie marks! And remember--leave em alive!"

The first time you were still riding the adrenaline from your bust, at least in part. It sort of passed by in a blur. The second time you were feeling the effects of a terrible night's sleep, a terrible breakfast, and the freezing cold. And that's how you wound up here: face-up in a prison shower, back against the wall with your forelegs curled up over your face as three guys take turns stomping on the side of your head. In a more pleasant world you would have passed out by now; but as it is, you are keenly aware of every second that passes by while you wait for that magical 15-minute mark.

"It's me."

Beyond the door, there is only Guttersnipe--looking slightly worse for the wear than normal (understandably so) but otherwise the very picture of health. He's even gone so far as to try and make some attempt at combing out his hair; though, to your well-trained eyes, it is clear that he used nothing more delicate than a bit of shale and perhaps some rainwater. That being said, it's the thought that counts in these sorts of things.

"Oi'm the package. An' im, too."

He says, taking a moment to point at Jet Stream, who stands beside him.

" want me to fucking CHILL?!"

The shout comes with such force that your ears reflexively flatten; and with an enraged whinny, your cellmate tosses her head--and a moment later, the cell is filled with the dull hissing whine and the sharp light of a unicorn preparing a particularly nasty spell. As your eyes twitch and your head begins to ache, your cellmate stamps her hooves...and then, just like that, spins around, the magic abruptly vanished.

"Actually, that is...completely reasonable. Chilling out. Okay. Okay, we are chill."

Your celly noisily exhales, and slams her forehooves down on the cement with a crack.

"The way he talked about you, I was expecting someone...taller. Much taller. And tighter. With a different smell."

At once, you sharply inhale, as a hoof comes down on your tailbone, just above one of the breaks.

"You have...eight words to prove you're Carnage, or so help me I will snap your fucking NECK!"
>> No. 40749072
File 142112565531.png - (76.89KB , 894x894 , that wasn't as enjoyable for me___.png )

Swiftwing gives off a slight shake, as he's shakily risen to his hooves, which were hardly feeling any better, though he hadn't given a chance to test them since the first night. His eyes narrow in a mix of tired and flinching as he wasn't sure what to expect. It surely was not going to be some sort of daily chained down beating, could it? With another groan, Swiftwing began hobbling on a still-recovering hind legs. He soon realized his first inclination was wrong as he was being led out of the cell. He gave a quick look around to try to spot Umi, hoping he'd at least have a familiar face with him as he was led through whatever hell awaited.


Swiftwing gave a cautious look around the room, eyeing each other inmate with a bit of nerves as he tried to put on a tough face, though his 0 in acting didn't help to hide a bit of intimidation. Swiftwing's ears rung as he heard the guard behind them call out.. for them. It wasn't long before Swiftwing was a curled up ball on the floor, hooves covering his face and shaking as he desperataly hoped and silently wished for it to end.
>> No. 40749075
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In hindsight she should have recognized the accent, though she could hardly be blamed for Gutter taking on the gold standard upon which all adorable street urchins are compared to. Regardless of what she might have thought or suspected before, seeing the two brought a smile to her face, and it helped to lift her spirits ever so slightly. She was still a raging blizzard on the inside, but she found it hard to be cross, difficult or just her usual bitchy self when in this kind of company.

"Hey hey! Not the worst package I ever received" She said, moving in to hug the little orphan after tucking her now safety locked gun in her pants. A strange and unholy action she was not entirely used to. But she had at least been practicing. "Glad you can make it, and even gladder to see you are in one piece." With a final ruffle she turned her attention to Sam. Giving him a kiss to the lips followed by a tight hug with her natural leg.

"Glad you can make it for dinner." She said, simply. Of course it was no simple dinner. That much was robbed of her. She allowed for just a little of her frustration to seep on through her smiles. Not so much as to suggest she was cross but more dissapointed in the more current happenings. Beneath that she was furious but that much could not be helped for the moment. Maybe some hot soup would calm her nerves a bit.

"Here...come in you two." She moved herself out of the way to allow them to enter.
>> No. 40749078
File 142112601726.png - (109.62KB , 355x310 , Disrespect.png )
>Oh so she was going to get uppity too, bitch thinks she's got the right to talk down to her just because she got the drop on her after her legs were broken and unconscious huh... As the bitch pressed her hoof against one of the Carnage's fractures, pain seared through the orange mare's backside even as rage raced through her mind at the thought that the mangy thing had raped her with... something, maybe her horn or Celestia knew what else. Either way, there was no way in hell she was taking this lying down even if it meant she was going to go through a lot more pain as a result.

>Twisting her body sideways so that she could glare pure hatred right into that magical rapist's ugly face, Carnage all but spat venom at her cellmate.

Bitch, I won't put up with your disrespect!

>Come what may, Star Fall knew she didn't have anything to prove to this insane cunt who could somehow use magic, she knew who she was and that she didn't have a goddamned thing to prove to some psycho whore with skin parasite issues. If anything Carnage dared the cellmate to try and kill her then, stronger ponies had tried and failed before and this sure as hell wasn't going the end for her.
>> No. 40749080
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Umi bore the brunt of the attacks, silently. The beatings were irritating. Painful, bone cracking amounts of irritating. Each day, the stallion's mood deteriorated a little more. Silence prevailed in the cell, as the cold of the prison leeched further and further into the very being of the blue giant. Already he had become more violent, the first day of beatings had been met with vicious counter attacks. They were futile, but the stallion wasn't deterred. Hooves, wings, teeth, anything he could lash out with, or harm one of his attackers with, he did so. The beating had been severe, and he had spent several minutes, back in the cell, simply spitting blood into the gutter. Would the next day be any different? Well, it seemed that way. Curled up, forelegs protecting his face, the stallion endured the beating, as a sea of rage and fury broiled within him. He wanted theses three dead. He wanted to see them fall, and watch their lives drain away with the 'water' they sprayed the prisoners down with. A pipe, a bit of a broken tile, a utensil, flinched from the eating area. All of them would have been a gift to beat all gifts right now.

Even as the beatings continued, the stallion's eyes never left the others above him. He wanted to commit them to memory, to target them, next time, and rip them apart. He wanted them dead. Next time they were brought down, he swore they would not have the chance to gang up, before he threw himself at them. It didn't matter if he had to use his teeth, the stallion was set on drawing blood, and paying these three, and any other inmate, back in spades.
>> No. 40749087
File 142112836282.jpg - (11.27KB , 310x233 , prisonerisolatedsmall.jpg )
"Hey--hey, fucknuggets! Step off!"

Through the dull drone of the shower water and cracking hooves, a voice rings out--crisp and clear, and all too welcome. For a moment, the beatings stop; and then your attackers' forehooves come to rest in front of your face, as they turn to face someone further down the corridor. After a long moment, the three ponies--the yellow one with the beard and the squinting face, the red one with the missing eye and the scar, and the green one with the bobtail and splithoof--step away from you. One of them pipes up:

"Try taking us without ya boys sometime, huh?"

And then, with a growl, they slink away; and then you are left with a pregnant silence, as the stranger very slowly approaches you. Over the pounding in your head you can barely hear several sets of hoofbeats--each shod poorly, or not at all. They've been in here for a while.

"Hey. New guy. Get up."

What you see there waiting for you is something beautiful: a gang, of like-minded individuals. There are five ponies in total. Three stallions, two mares. Each are possessed of a foul scowl and an evidently rotten temperament; but among them there is one saving grace, that sets your hearts at ease simply to behold: all of them are varying shades of blue.

You find yourself staring at the ceiling.

"...Good. Yeah, that's good. That'll do."

From somewhere over to your side, the mare gives a sigh of relief, and stomps around to your backside.

"Good. Good. Before we get to business, can I make out with you? Because, not going to lie, I fucking love your work. You're just, the baddest cunt."
>> No. 40749090
>> No. 40749091
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"Nn..." A few cuts had been collected by Swiftwing through each of the beating. A perhaps similar train of thought tracing through his mind as was through Umi's: Only 3 ponies actually went for beating up Umi and Swiftwing.. only 3. Next time, the story was going to be much different. This was the only thing that was keeping Swiftwing strong through the beating, the imagery of him jumping across and throwing each of their bodies just for his tag-team partner to stomp their faces into the ground. It gave him a bit of momentary adrenaline as the beatings and each hit began to fade and he began to get accustomed to them much like their initial entry to the prison.

But thankfully, it came to an end. Slowly looking up, Swiftwing blinked in vast curiosity as the three were so easily called off. Wanting to see who could have done so, he looked up and spotted the gang that had approached, sighing in relief as he noted their all shades of blue. That was a pretty clear sign of safety. That and the fact they didn't immediately jump onto them. With heavy huffs and heavy groans of pain, Swiftwing shakily rose back to his hooves, looking right into the leader's eyes, behind his mane which was still down, there wasn't any hair gel in prison unfortunately. He stayed silent as he waited for the next words.
>> No. 40749093
File 142112930936.png - (576.89KB , 1345x1345 , Another pic.png )
Umi sits up, shaking out his limbs, before slowly making his way to his hooves. Who were these ponies? The towering stallion shook his head, before spitting off to the side. Less blood in it, today...that was good! Yellow, beard, squint. Red, missing eye, scar. Green, bobtail, splithoof. Those were the three he needed to find, and end. Looking to the other five, the towering pegasus blinked, seemingly caught off guard, for a split second. They were all blue? A gang? A gang based on colors...That wasn't something he had seen before. But ponies grouped up for so many different reasons, that coats would hardly be the oddest one he had seen.

"Thank you..." His response was short, curt. The stallion's expression seemed to match the five that had helped them. A slowly rotting temperament, and a face that was rapidly losing all the warmth it had held. He grew silent, his mind on the idea of forcing his attackers to put their teeth on the lip of the drainage ditch, and then seeing how much force his, still mending, legs could muster.
>> No. 40749094
File 142112960769.png - (148.83KB , 216x668 , Fuck 'em.png )
>Right okay, so the show of force let her off the hook for now and the psycho wasn't going to try to break her goddamned spine over an imagined slight. But the fact that she couldn't see that pony when she'd turned around to look at her really was off-putting, let alone the fact that the guards had somehow allowed for a unicorn to use their magic inside their own cell. But strange as all this was, it wasn't until she was asked if she would make out with her lice-covered cellmate that Carnage physically balked in response.

Wha... No!

I don't even know you man!

>Normally she'd have smacked the person right in their stupid nutty face for even suggesting something like that but seeing as all of her legs were broken... well... Carnage just had to hope that the other girl wasn't feeling up for another round of forced hoofplay after the last.
>> No. 40749105
The gutteral whinnyshriek and the stamping hooves that follow are as ear-splitting and wretched as they are sadly predictable.

"What, am I not good enough for you?! Huh, is that it? You fucking bitch, you should--! Wait, no, hang on, I see what you mean. Yeah, yeah, okay."

Your cellmate lays a tender hoof on your stomach--and then, in what is undeniably the most bizarre and unsettling of her many dubiously-tolerable actions, she places a hoof on your stomach; and thereafter begins drawing it in slow and gentle circles. This bitch is giving you a tummy rub.

"I know this place must seem big and scary, but...don't worry. We'll survive. Your old man, he was my celly for a while. Said you'd know how to break this place..."


The leader of the blue gang is an earth stallion who stands roughly a head shorter than Swiftwing--which makes him positively miniscule when compared to Umi, and even some of his fellows. Despite his small stature, however, his face bears many scars and his eyes are steely cold: he is a hard pony, to make no mistake. His mane is a dull shade of green, and his cutie mark is a silvery sphere with a pearlescent aura--a story for another time, to be certain.

"...Ya mane's a little red, but it'll do. Welcome to the Bluebloods gang, newbies."
>> No. 40749110
File 142113356824.png - (269.85KB , 898x890 )
At the mention, Swiftwing rightfully assumed right away it was himself. Glancing up at his mane, Swiftwing sheepishly brushed it as if trying to hide the red in response, and sighed, his face was a bit blood stained and he wasn't going to change much about that. "Well, thanks. For uh, stopping them." Swiftwing forced up a faint bit of a smile. "I'm Swiftwing. And the big guy is Umi." he gave a gaze around to the rest of the ponies, and a smile that was clearly a smile not meant for someone who was in prison. "So a gang, huh? That's great to hear." He couldn't help but grin as his previous and first impression was shown to be right. They were safe. At least it seemed.
>> No. 40749376
File 142118085273.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
The Bluebloods...The titan of a stallion bit back a snort of derision. He wasn't interested in this gang, or their diminutive leader. However, they might be useful to him, and his wants. There was strength in numbers, no doubt, and the addition of the others would, doubtlessly, prove to make his desires much, much easier to accomplish.

"Can you five get me time with any or all of those ponies?" That was the lone thing on his mind. He wanted them dead, and he saw a group that could help him with it. He could take them on, he was sure. Though he was willing to wager that Swiftwing would want some of the fight, as well. "Swiftwing, as well." His gaze fell to the edge of the showers, a thin, cold smile tugging at the corners of his muzzle, as he thought about the three from before laying in that very spot. Five hundred credits for his cutie mark...something about that statement had irritated him, even more. Working for the guards, for such a paltry sum...
>> No. 40749725
File 142119471430.png - (142.38KB , 252x835 , What do you know about me.png )


Stop it... just... no.

>With sweat beading on her forehead out of sheer awkwardness for the entire scene, Carnage had to really pull on all her willpower not to lash out on the batshit insane pony who thought that the proper course of action after all they'd exchange was to give a belly rub. Glaring daggers so venomous in the pony's directions (if only she can actually get a clear look at the damn mare for once), Carnage did her absolute best to sound calm and serious even if every fiber in her being screamed for violence.

You know my old man?

Yea... yea he's right, I can break this place.

But why do you care?
>> No. 40749848
"Yeah, we's a gang."

At Umi's request, the small blue pony with the inner-city accent cocks his head, and affects a cheeky little grin. You can see from here that he has made the extraordinarily poor decision to have the words "BLUE BLOODS" tattooed on his teeth; if nothing else, he's undeniably committed to the cause. There seems to be something intensely amusing about your desire for revenge--either that or your face, given that he's watching your forehead with nothing short of giddiness. It's probably a little bit of both, really: in the cool water of the shower, you can very clearly feel something hot running down your forehead: that is to say, you've been busted open.

"Only just said hello and ya lookin for another fight. I can feel it..."

He claps his hooves, and one of the taller ones picks him up and rests him on his back.

"But ya gotta understand, mister...Ooo-mammy. Back rooms and deals with the guards, we ain't that. What we is, is a color."

"I dunno. Why am I excited about a jailbreak?"

Your roomie leans in and softly nuzzles your ears, in a gesture that is both misguided and spectacularly uncomfortable. Her breath is hot and wet, and smells faintly of chives; but in the very same instant that you are treated to this unnerving intimacy, she springs back and leaps to her hooves!

"Your old man and I, we were roomies when he was in here about...oh, bout a year ago, now. And he and I, we figured out how to bust this place real good, but then he got transferred and I got put into testing! But, here we are now, spic and span and oh my goodness I just realized I've forgotten my name.

"Blue Velvet, pleased to meet you."
>> No. 40749892
File 142120283248.jpg - (94.01KB , 774x1032 , Motley.jpg )
Sam had put a bit more work into his appearance at least. The stallion had washed and combed his mane, tying it back with a bright red ribbon to let the long mane hang in a ponytail over his shoulder. Sam had not gottten a haircut since they'd met, and his man had progressively been getting longer and longer. He didn't have much in the way of nice clothing, so he wore his long duster coat, the emblem of the sickles imprinted over where his cutie marks. He gave her a sad soft smile, leaning downa dn kissing his lover gently on the lips. Sam had lost a few friends today... And admittedly, where they where was not nearly as bad the as incarceration both he and frost had endured, but it still wasn't going to be fun.
>> No. 40749911
File 142120451743.png - (77.07KB , 900x622 , let's prove it.png )
Swiftwing had just been about to chip in on that request to get in on the fight, idly shifting around on his hooves in the meanwhile to try and get adjusted to the pain that not only was in his legs, but now ribs and in the head... Some parts of his mane were a darker red than the others and at the mention of the cut, Swiftwing winced as he spotted Umi's cut, then gently put a hoof upto his own face to see he too had been profusely bleeding.

He took a deep breath, gently rolled his head and grinned a bit of a wild grin. "I can't wait. Oh man when our hooves aren't fucked up, they won't know what hit them." he seemed to be dancing off into his own imagination even though he hadn't received an answer about getting a fight. Something about the blood and sensing the intensity in his partner's aura gave Swiftwing a big boast of confidence and adrenaline. Eagerly anticipating the moment when he'd get released for 'recreational time' with not fucked up hind legs... but of course with this Swiftwing only began to bleed a bit more profusely. He winced and tried to press a hoof against the cut, as if to stop the bleeding.
>> No. 40749913
File 142120456482.png - (874.85KB , 696x696 , umi not smug___.png )
The pegasus lifted a hoof to his forehead, pulling it away, to see the brilliant red staining his fetlocks. Oh, he was going to kill them all...They'd bleed far more then he had. "I'm not looking for a fight. I'm looking for a slaughter..." He watches the pony get lifted up, before switching his gaze to the crowd. Were any of them around? Was he able to reach any of them? And did he have time to end one... His attention flipped back to the small pony, one eyebrow raised, slightly. He seemed okay...but if he got between Umi and one of his targets, well...he could probably grind him into the tiles, on the way by. "I don't want deals with the guards, or any of that." He nods towards one of the ponies he had set his sights on. "I want to watch their lives run down the drains..."

He eyed the three from before. They were so close...and he was so tempted. The beating had been severe, but the anger and hatred was still strong in the stallion. "Next time we're in here, and I see any one of them, I'm ending one. Help if you want, but I'm ending one of them...I swear it."
>> No. 40749932
File 142120671830.png - (162.76KB , 429x463 , 1419303889054.png )
Farasi could think of few places he had less desire to be than Frost's apartment. He stood outside the door for some time, his heart thudding in his chest. It had sounded a bit different after the last job. He wasn't sure if that had to do with what happened at the station or what happened on the way home. Maybe it was just him.

He gave himself a final once over. He had made little effort to be more presentable, mainly because he was incapable of it. The increasingly-worn black duster hung over him like a shawl around his emaciated frame. He had run a comb through his mohawk, straightening it up, but hairs were springing out of it in curly clumps; a recent development he had been unable to curb. And, of course, there was nothing to be done about his angry red scar-tissue or his missing teeth. All things considered, he was certain Frost needed only open the door to immediately take offence. He found it harder to worry about that than he used to.

Lifting a hoof, he took a deep, steadying breath. Shaking himself, he knocked on the door in a series of sharp, staccato beats, his hoof skittering unsteadily up and down its surface.
>> No. 40749947
File 142120998050.png - (192.32KB , 480x640 , Koko9.png )

With Sam and Gutter all spritzed up and ready for dinner, she could almost make herself believe this was going to be a simple dinner. If she was delusional enough. The anger was a constant presence, the frustration at their failure and, perhaps, even a little bit of worry for the state of her crew. It was hard not to feel at least a little optimistic though, with the music and the food and the company and what not. Sitting them down and pouring them glasses of wine, Horse Haven Cabernet aged just a few years, she had only just turned off the oven and removed the rolls before hearing the knock on the door. Remembering her pistol, she prepared to either be slightly disgusted, slightly inquisitive, or for bullets to begin flying. A little paranoia never hurt anypony after all.

Moving to open the door, it was clear that disgust was the order of the day. She smiled all the same, for the first time, to some zebra she only disliked indirectly. He looked worse for wear. Almost as if he had gone through some kind of traumatic event. It was so pathetic it almost made her want to vomit but she held back the urge, as always. It would be upsetting to Sam after all and she was not about to have that.

"Well...Farasi. Welcome to the old abode. Long time no see." She said, in as sweet a voice as she could muster without it being creepy and weird. "Come in, champ and pull up a chair." She pulled herself back, revealing her ultra modern apartment, in all its pristine, almost plastic glory. Organized, tasteful, yet subtle at the same time, it looked like something you would see in a brochure and that was no accident. The dinning room, partially connected to the kitchen, laid before him. Black chairs and tables with white cushions sitting atop a darkish tile. Smelling of soup, bread and something a bit more familiar to him. The very same scent of mint he might have recognized from Chill's own apartment. It seemed the sisters had that much in common at least.
>> No. 40749965
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He had forgotten how condescending she could be. It took him a good couple seconds to remember to match her smile; he spent the first few staring at her in something approaching mystification, good eye narrowed in the fashion of someone who suspects they're being conned. His ears twitched at the diminutive nickname, but his half-grin leaped obediently to life. It was even more ghastly a sight than it used to be; his teeth looked like a vandalized yellow graveyard, and his smile was the furthest thing from genuine.

"Don't mind if I do," Farasi said slowly, as if tasting the words as they left. He stepped in with a few long, ungainly strides and cast his gaze about appraisingly. His nostrils flared as he took a long whiff of the air, drinking it in. With an approving nod, he turned halfway back to Frost, peeking at her over his shoulder with that foul smile.

"Nice place you got here."
>> No. 40749970
File 142121165444.png - (255.68KB , 771x779 , jack_of_blades_by_r0xx0rzzz-d6ln14v.png )
Though despite this, there had begun to be slight intrusions in the place by its new residents. Guttersnipe and Sam both now lived with Frost. And farasi noticed Sams multitude of coats sitting by the door on a rack. His stun sticks hanging on hooks above them. A fine set of knives where vissible in the kitchen in a glass holder, with a variety of utensils that let Sam be the wife of the house and do most the cooking for his beloved. The gentle giant himself was sitting near the head of the table, and gave Farasi a gentle, tired smile.

"Hey Farasi..."
>> No. 40749989
File 142121231939.jpg - (136.75KB , 1024x768 , Money makes the world go round.jpg )

It was almost as if a hobo had shambled into her perfect home. She might have been offended if there where not more pressing concerns. In truth, she did not much care for company at her place of residence. Not that she had issues with blending both work and home, but this was not the kind of work you really wanted to bring home anyways.

"Thanks...I try to keep a tidy ship." She responded simply, her horn possessed by a dark blue aura as the chair next to Sam pulled out. "Grab a seat and make yourself at home." Remembering she had her glasses on, she pulled them off and set them neatly at the edge of her shirt collar. Blue, draconic eyes scanning the room. A hint of her scaly chest showing on through the bit of chest they could see. "Any idea when the other guy is going to be coming?"
>> No. 40749994
File 142121269237.png - (1.41MB , 1087x1080 , 1418256787878.png )
When he caught sight of Sam, Farasi's head swivelled about like he had a piston for a neck. His electric smile deadened somewhat, turning into something that could have been a real grin. It was still absolutely repulsive to look upon. His stare lost its fire as well -- though his bad eye was always lifeless and inexpressive, so it was not a dramatic change. He nodded at the taller pony, dipping his head. He neglected to adjust the rest of his posture, resulting in his shoulders hunching up in a hyena-like stance. Opening his mouth, he was silent for a second, as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say. It came to him a moment later with a sharp jolt.

"Sam. Good to see ya."

He eyed up the chair doubtfully, but he padded towards it without much hesitation. His walk cycle was off, his loping stride making little sound as he slid into the offered chair. Farasi all but collapsed into it, a quiet gust of air leaving him as he turned his eyes to the ceiling. Frowning, he took a moment to think over the question.

"'S a girl," he said idly as he tilted his head back down to meet Frost's eyes. The smile was gone, replaced by a look of exhausted neutrality. "And I dunno. I don't talk to her much."
>> No. 40750001
File 142121370216.jpg - (8.34KB , 259x194 , Time is money.jpg )

"Ah...ah I see" She replied, moving on to pour soup in the bowl and wine in the cup. She was all smiles though there was hardly any energy left in there. Magically she turned up the music, but only just a bit. A smooth jazz for what was supposed to be a smooth evening.

"Well, we are starting anyway. Plenty left for her if she comes along." Now she took her own seat. Sitting directly ahead of Sam himself. Though not before pouring herself a bowl of the soup she had been slaving over. "We got Salt, Pepper, bread and butter...whatever you want." She pointed in the direction of both a salt shaker, a pepper grinder and a little plate of butter situated next to the dinner rolls. Without waiting for permission, she took a spoonful of the soup. Taking the time to savor the moment before moving on to much more infuriating concerns. She set the spoon down at once, closed her eyes and gave a content sigh. Safe in the knowledge that at least something came out right.

"Well...this is good. Not to pat myself on the back but, I think I did pretty decent." Casually she moved to pick up the glass with her natural hoof. It was a bit easier to control, after all, than her augmented leg. It was a fine glass and she was not about to risk breaking it. She twirled the liquid about, letting it breath before giving it a sniff. Slowly, soon after, a sip followed suit. Savoring again the flavor as she scanned the table in front of her. "Good stuff...really good stuff." She took just one more sip before setting the glass down and patting her snout down a bit with her table napkin. Her voice relaxed though it took a turn for the mournful. A simple question to kick off the evening.

"So what happened exactly?"
>> No. 40750011
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The wine was immediately the most attractive thing to Farasi. He stared at it like it was an old friend he hadn't seen in years who turned out to look even more attractive with age. Despite his temptation, he waited. He didn't touch a drop of either substance until Frost had had her fill of both. Even then, he seemed a touch leery about them. His hoof slid around the glass, and he played with it nonchalantly, choosing to stare into its red depths instead of at the ponies around him.

Frost's question brought a frown to his face. His bad side turned it into a deep, pronounced scowl. He stopped to think it over, cocking his head to the side. His contemplation of the liquor grew more intense, his brow furrowing and his lip curling unpleasantly.

"Carnage, the big blue one, Igneus and Quickfeathers ended up in jail," he said simply. A heavy gust of air left through his nostrils. "It was all goin' pretty well up until that part. We... underestimated how long it'd take to spring Big Red, who got himself arrested doin'... somethin' stupid. And the jackbooted fucks decided to bring in the big guns. There ain't much you can do when an APC rolls up."

At last, he got over his reservations, and took a long, swift gulp from the glass. His head tilted back as he drank, presumably for fear of the liquid sliding out through the permanent gap in his lip, and he spent little time appreciating the taste. What he did taste, however, seemed to agree with him despite his bad mood.
>> No. 40750028
File 142121786149.png - (90.17KB , 542x228 , okay.png )

. . .

>Silently inching away from the blue mare and her chive smelling breath, Carnage nodded her head to everything the blue girl said with something like the deadest of expressions as she tried her absolute hardest to hide the deep-seethed revulsion she felt for the mare and her extremely touchy-feely approach the her. Especially after the fact that she'd presumably already raped her while she was unconscious!

Right... nice to meet you Blue Velvet.

>She continued in a profesional sort of tone even if she was actively trying to rebuke a would be mare whose fur was infested with lice and breath smelled of chives from making out with her with all four of her legs broken and the sour taste of helplessness in her mouth.

So... what's this plan you and my old man came up with?
>> No. 40750065
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She watched him contemplate the drink he held with a set of eyes that seemed alien. Contemplative and cold, despite her seemingly easy going smile. It was a look she might have afforded him long ago with a much colder heart. It was not meant as a simple gesture of intimidation, however, but a sign that she was gathering the facts. That she took this loss to her team very seriously.

"I Igneus got himself captured the first time and everything else is all just a result of your attempt at a rescue." She repeated those facts as he guzzled down a very fine wine in a less than fine manner. To be expected of this poor, wretched thing. It was hardly the optimal way to enjoy the beverage but now was hardly the time for nitpicky details.

"So now here we are. Umi, Carnage and Quickfeather are jailed now, along with Igneus. Not what I would call stellar work. But that is neither here nor there." She gave another swirl of her glass before taking a sip. Almost as if she was trying to show him the proper way to drink the Cabernet, though she suspected it was a futile effort. It was not as if he or anyone else ever really took to listening to her. Regardless of the fact she enjoyed her own drink a bit more before setting it down in favor of a spoon that would eventually dig into her piping hot soup.

"I never got to know Quickfeathers. I do like Umi though...reminds me a lot of Jet here." She said up to her lover with a smile and a slightly softer tone of voice. "Carnage has her uses. She is fascinating, and not just because of her legendary family...Igneus though? Well...he is a friend. " She said, with a bit more reverence this time. The memory of her death was not one she was going to forget anytime soon. The pain, the peace, the scales and, of course, the tears. "He might have fucked up but I don't abandon my team or my friends so easily. Obviously we are going to be getting them out, and obviously this goes beyond merely liking the people who got caught."

An appeal to the greater picture, followed by a mouthful of split pea soup. She was in the process of grabbing herself a roll as she continued to speak. Right after swallowing her bite of course. "Firejack. You know the pony from me and Jet's dream? You technically got what you guys wanted to get, correct?"

Last edited at Wed, Jan 14th, 2015 00:24

>> No. 40750080
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Blue Velvet's next reply is a terrible blow to your morale, if only because it's so sadly predictable. With a snort and a nicker, she places one of her forehooves against yours; and then with the saddest intonation and the most apologetic inflection you ever did hear, she whimpers:

"Carnage, I...I don't remember. They took it out of me when I was in testing..."

"Tough talk, specially for a couple of guys what looks like yous do..."

The small blue one nods approvingly, as he sweeps his eyes over the pair of you.

"Listen, you two. I dunno what yous is in for, but that don't matter. Everything outside these walls? That ain't nothin now. All yous got in here is a color--and that means we's is the only friends yous gonna get.

"By which I mean yous needs to stop lookin at those ballsacks and pay attention fore somebody else tries and sticks a knife in yous. Cuz there's gonna be more than them, since the guards is payin and all."
>> No. 40750085
File 142122171419.png - (80.71KB , 806x990 , that's quite the offer.png )
Swiftwing nodded ahead to their advice and warnings, listening attentively with a look of sincerity, trying his best to show he was taking the advice seriously,they were right after all, it could've easily been any of the other prisoners. They weren't taken in yet, 500 bits weren't hooved out. The game, the bounty for their hides were still on. He knew Umi and himself could handle themselves with or without the Bluebloods, but certainly not in their current condition, they just needed time to heal a bit. "Well then, I certainly consider us friends. Ones I'm glad to have. I personally wouldn't be much of a burden past my injury, I know how to handle myself, so does the big guy, we just need a bit of time to heal up. But I guess that's what this is all about, watching each others backs, yeah?"
>> No. 40750086
File 142122181833.png - (76.48KB , 544x133 , Whatever.png )


>Well damn, that really was predictable wasn't it. Even as the other mare was trying her hardest to make their talk into some stereotypical romance interaction you'd find in some trashy discount romance novel, Carnage was determined to break the mood as much as she could by remaining as uninterested in this nutjob's machinations as possible. Testing? What even did that mean? Had she even met her old man or was she just pretending to have met him in prison? For all she knew this girl was just some smelly fan girl with hygiene problems and rapist tendencies who'd heard of her deeds in the papers or something.

Well... that's too bad I guess.

>No need to confront the girl now though, not while all four of her damn legs were broken. Right now all she could do was ever so slowly wiggle away from the other girl and hope to the gods she would just stop touching her before she lost it at one point or another.
>> No. 40750089
File 142122221892.png - (874.85KB , 696x696 , umi not smug___.png )
Stop looking? Stop looking!? He didn't want to stop looking. He wanted to watch them. He wanted to watch them scream. He wanted to watch them beg. He wanted to watch them die. This pint sized pony was rapidly falling from what little good graces he had. How dare he tell him not to take the revenge he craved. He bit his tongue, for now, Andrew's words doing the brunt of the work.

A few days to heal would be ideal. The main problem was whether or not the stallion's mind and mental state would allow them that time. He looked ready to fight, right then. Barely healed legs, and split forehead, he still wanted to fight. It seemed it may only get worse, as the days went on, as well.
>> No. 40750093
File 142122259754.png - (264.80KB , 2932x2990 , Yeeeeahhh_____.png )
Swiftwing certainly was oblivious to a lot of things out in society, so it would have appeared so at this point, though it wasn't rocket science to tell the big one was quite disgruntled and quite pissed. He could continuously notice Umi's looks to the three, and he knew what was capable of the barbarian and had a pretty decent idea of how the mind worked. "I mean... you agree with me, Umi?" Swiftwing spoke up, gently patting him on his massive shoulders. "We should know by know that if we want to get a job done, no half assing, right? Get it done right?"
>> No. 40750095
Two days. He would give it two days, before he saw how much tile and how many teeth those three could eat. He bit his tongue, for the sake of Swiftwing, and nodded. He seemed, at least, to still be in his mind enough to care for the little high flyer. "Get it done right, or not at all."
>> No. 40750100
File 142122302294.png - (59.93KB , 786x1017 , u so mad bro.png )
And with that, a big sigh of relief was let out by Swiftwing. He couldn't truthfully say he wasn't intimidated by the barbarian freight train, and the last thing he wanted was to get steam rolled again like their first encounter. He just wanted to help look out for each other and keep his friend from doing something rash. "And I promise you, we'll get it done. I promise you that." he nodded with a grin.
>> No. 40750215
File 142124004328.gif - (1.36MB , 400x215 , 1418533667783.gif )
Farasi turned to look at her curiously at that strange comment about friends, his eyebrows shooting up in undisguised surprise. He nodded slowly in tacit agreement -- leaving them there was simply nod an option, regardless of whether any of them had rearranged his jaw recently. The zebra turned away at the mention of Firejack, the glass grabbing his attention again. He gave it a little wobble in polite imitation. He didn't see the use.

"Yes. We got Firejack's number. Haven't tested it, but we should be able to contact him," he said, allowing a small amount of pride to slip into his tone. At least no one could say the mission was a failure. "If it weren't for this, we could be huntin' him down right now."

"'Course, this has to come first." He took another sip. It was just a modicum slower this time, but it was still clear he was more interested in the content than the taste. "Can't afford to let our friends rot, eh?"
>> No. 40750437
File 142126629428.jpg - (113.59KB , 450x609 , Koko12.jpg )

"No, we can not" She eyed him curiously as she took another spoonful of soup. With a roll that was freshly buttered, she plopped it into her mouth and watched his rather feeble attempts to copy her own, more proper style of alcoholic enjoyment. But that really was to be expected and at the very least he was trying. In a half-hearted way to be sure, but there was a modicum of effort.

"Even if I was the cold, heartless scum ponies seem to think I am, we need all hooves on deck if we are going to take on Firejack. I think we are all in agreement that we need to spring them so I think we can safely move on to discussions on how to make that possible."

She took another bite as she pushed the bottle of wine just a little bit closer to Farasi. "Time is short. We need to act fast but obviously we need to do this right...if we get caught? Its over for all of us." She glanced off to the side, seeming to tumble a thought through her head before going forward to publish it. "Well, it will be the end for you guys. Probably just have you executed. For me? No doubt they are going to make me nice and cozy on some table and rip me apart for science. I think this goes without saying but we can't screw up this one. Farasi, think you can get in touch with Avarice? We need a layout of the prison...anything we can get really."

"I have a few other ideas I can share later but for now...any other thoughts?"

Last edited at Wed, Jan 14th, 2015 13:11

>> No. 40750709
File 142127409771.png - (880.50KB , 1280x967 , 1419303889053.png )
The way his eyes slid over to her at her little implication that she was not, in fact, cold, heartless or scum was perhaps a bit too sudden. His stormy expression lifted ever so slightly as a dubious eyebrow popped up, but he said nothing. A moment later, he was utterly grim again, and he nodded in begrudging agreement. He took another long sip, before finally setting the nearly drained glass down. At last, he seemed to remember that the soup was there, and tried a small spoonful of it. He didn't seem to taste it as Frost went on talking about executions.

"I'll talk to him," he said with another slow nod. His lip curled unpleasantly, the cleft widening with an almost audible crinkle. "I got plenty'a thoughts right now. Most of them havin' to do with getting into one of the tightest prisons in the country."

He pushed the spoon around the soup contemplatively for a second. Then, he snatched up the pepper grinder, and began applying a liberal amount to it as he talked offhandedly. His pace quickened, like the words couldn't wait to get out.

"You're right that we can't get caught. But I figure, 'part from the kid, I'm the only one left who can sneak worth shit. So, way I figure, either you gotta, like... steal a uniform if you want in, or we're comin' up somewhere they might not expect."

He stopped to look up at Frost again. Finally finishing with the pepper, he set it down and flashed his yellowed grin again.

"Like, I 'unno, the sewers?"
>> No. 40750837
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Upon arriving to the Warrens and making it inside, one of the first things that Backjack would see was the orange stallion, sitting in a chair as he was polishing his new leg. His insurance finally came through to him- which was something he thought would be impossible, knowing from experience how stingy they can be about money. Not only did he get a new leg, but he also got a new eye; the biometric eye with scope vision, which was something he needed in his line of work, he discovered. After polishing the leg Amos would finally attach it to the metal socket that was surgically attached to him, flicking the two small levers hidden in compartments to keep the leg from falling off. He then turned the nob on the side of the socket three times, until it finally made a clicking noise. After a second or two, it made a small beeping noise, harder to hear for anyone due to the talking going on around him.

Amos rose from his chair, lifting his metal leg up and down three times to ensure that it was working properly. This was when he noticed the other stallion that walked into the bar.

"Hmm, a new face. This one better not be a cop," he thought to himself, keeping an eye on the new guy.

He kept quiet, heading up to the bar so that he could order a drink. The usual vodka. It kept him warm in the colder season of winter. He could only hope that the lasting effects would stick with him by the time he would head home, otherwise he might lose what was on him.

The stallion was wearing a leather suit with a duster coat over it. Since he wasn't wearing his helmet, the half-made up mohawk that was usually messy, along with the highlighted, green augment on his head were easily visible to anyone that gave him a look. Afterwards, if one were to look at him directly, they'd see his beard on his chin. The color matched his coat, so it seemed like nothing more than long strands of hair coming off his chin.
>> No. 40750847
"If yous guys really think ya can take on the whole gang...all..."

The small one stares down at his forehooves for a second, as particularly dull ponies are wont to do when they're trying to count something. After realizing that he only has two, and as such he oughtn't try counting on them, he shrugs and whispers into his mount's ear. The other pony, to her credit, takes this in stride and quickly whispers something back to him; and the smaller one, with a nod, turns his attention back to you.

"There's a lot of em. They's called "Snakeskins", cuz'a they ink. There's more'a them than there is you. Y'all gotta be careful. But if'n ya gets to yous senses, and don't get em all riled up or somethin, look for me or Deep Blue. We'll keep ya right."

"You guess? You gue--...wait, sorry, no, not gonna get angry."

Blue Velvet falls over and hits the cement with a thump to lay flat on her back.

" are a blessing. Not like a unicorn blessing, the other kind. That's good too, though. Real...real good..."

And then just as quickly as she had set upon you, Blue Velvet takes a leave of her manic energy, and sprawls out on the floor--at least, you think she does, by the sound of things.

"I'm gonna sleep. Don't look at me."
>> No. 40750857
File 142128011320.png - (1.44MB , 1600x901 , vlcsnap-2013-08-03-09h26m37s251.png )

The sewer. There was an option to consider as she ignored his instant and not unexpected skepticism. She toyed around with her food for a bit more. Nose scrunching up almost in anticipation for that fowl course of action. "That is something to consider. No doubt they got all the other points of access covered...though I have a feeling they may have the sewer entrance monitored or guarded as well." She grinned a somewhat mad grin while taking a hearty spoonful of soup. Washing it down with wine at a slow pace before adding a little something. "Or maybe they got some weird mutant shit down there that keeps the rabble out. I am willing to bet there is more than just rats down there, either way. But maybe we can manage it."

"So maybe we got the sewers. Might be something worth asking Avarice about or, maybe, checking up ourselves. I guess if I were to find a cleaner point of access, I am going to have to do a lot better than a uniform. It would be worth looking into what goes in and what comes out of that prison. Food, supplies, rotating staff...stuff like that. I also had another idea. Something we used before with...a degree of success."

She was a bit more uncertain as she spoke, and she had no desire to hide it. No need for displays of confidence if one was genuinely unsure of how something worked. Especially on a mission with such high stakes. "I can talk to you about it later, in private. For now...anyone else who can help? The old man? Anyone knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy in prison? What we need is reliable recon and, maybe, a way to communicate with our people in jail."

"If you can't think of anything now that is fine, but lets not wait till they hang to get this sorted out. Might also be nice to have a place to lay low after the prison break. I bet you my apartment they are going to go full jackboot after this. Assuming we don't screw up."
>> No. 40750897
File 142128156620.jpg - (332.17KB , 803x615 , 1420350335987.jpg )
Farasi's grin widened on his good side, even as the motion caused significant pain and what appeared to be an automatic grimace on its counterpart. He looked like he was relishing the prospect of clambering around in filth and muck. Nodding in slow agreement, he cocked his head to the side at the possibility of sewer guards. That had to be an unfortunate appointment, but he could believe it. If there was a way in, Lone Star would be guarding it. Still, it seemed as good a way in as any. Possibly better.

The grin flickered and faded into a less painful, more polite neutrality, even as his eyes widened in curiosity. She sounded nervous. He leaned in a bit closer. If he was wearing a tie, it would be in danger of sliding into the soup. Unfortunately, he was denied it. He frowned, leaning back. He flicked his eyes over to the other assembled company. What could it be that she wanted to talk in private about it?

Shaking his head, he shrugged, busying himself with the soup again as he thought it over. His hoof moved slowly and deliberately, occasionally jolted around by the slight tremor in his hoof that he only now became aware of. Once he was, he quickened the motion until he abruptly halted.

"The Old Man could help," Farasi agreed with a small nod. His frown deepened. "Pretty sure he would. Awful fond'a Carnage, at least. But I dunno about gettin' eyes in there..."

His attention drifted towards the glass again. He was about to take another sip when a light flicked on behind his eyelids; a half-remembered conversation with the dragon from a good couple months ago sprung to mind.

"... I think, if I remember right, Big Red's, uh... dragon... friend... got family in the mob or somethin'. They might have a couple guys in there. 'Course, it's a helluva thing, owin' a favour to the mob."
>> No. 40750987
A mare stands in the shadows, her eyes frantically looking
To see if the coast is clear.
>> No. 40751010
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"I don't want the whole gang. I want those three." The stallion jerked his head to the previous aggressors. "Just tell me if there's a way for me to get one of them alone, or at least separated. I don't need a lone room, or anything fancy like that. I just need me, one of them, and the chance to destroy them." It wasn't hard to see that this pony was on a single track. Perhaps he would make good muscle, if he didn't seem hellbent for blood. Prison was changing Umi, breaking him and remolding him, slowly. The very cold of the prison around them was worming its way through his body, into his very soul. No sunlight. No sky. No flight. Odds are he'd be pacing the cell, like a caged animal, before the end of the week.
>> No. 40751041
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"..." Swiftwing glanced between Umi and Deep Blue and the smaller leader, giving an understanding nod as he wasn't yet worried about Umi too much, a part of him expected his friend to act like this, but as his cell mate.. he had to make damn sure Umi was kept sane and not too thirsty for blood. He wasn't sure how far Umi would go... and he didn't want to find out personally. "So.... we just be careful, see who they hang around, maybe try and get a good read for the others. And work to see if we can get some 2 on 3 time with them..." He turns back to the Bluebloods. "Like I said, if we can get enough time to heal up, and you're just around... Umi and I can pull our weight, knock a couple blocks off, if others decide to jump in, so be it..."
>> No. 40751066
File 142129093268.jpg - (43.05KB , 500x735 , Imagine the fire.jpg )

She raised an eyebrow at his hesitant use of the word "Friend". She had been out of the loop after all. More so than she would have liked. Still, she did not linger on those thoughts for long. Another bite, a bit of thought later, and her response came. "Does not seem like we have much of a choice. I can talk to the pink one and we can see what they can do from here. Don't like it much either but we need all the help we can get."

Now came time to drink though it did not come instantly. "Anyone else have any ideas?" She swirled the liquid around, looking a shade more thoughtful than before. Almost like Farasi himself though looking much prettier doing it.
>> No. 40751323
>Blackjack was indeed quite new, but he didn't seem like it just off first impressions. Anyone who was in that bar might not have seen him but they would have felt that the white stallion was in the room. This wasn't due to any magical force but to his walking with a purpose. He wasn't even aware he was doing it either. It was simply engrained in his normal routine from training. Seeing an open table, he sits down and rests for a bit, looking around to see who is here with him. His eyes soon rest on the mohawked stallion sitting at the bar. He notes the green augmentation and the beard along with the duster coat., wondering if he might have any weapon underneath it. After a few minutes Blackjack gets up heads to the bar, ordering just a water. He then looks over and silently nods to the stallion in the duster.
>> No. 40751347
File 142130626325.jpg - (118.64KB , 1280x720 , tumblr_ni2ci3quRU1sj1asfo1_1280.jpg )
The way this stallion acted seemed rather peculiar to say the least. A new face walking around like this had any real smell alluded by a whiff of uncertainty. He could either be a troublemaker looking to start something unnecessary or a newer operator who had no idea what he was doing here. And he decided to sit next to the guy who almost always felt paranoid when smelling anything with the scent of fish. But to be more specific, he smelled like weed. He must have been hanging around the Burning Bush. Huh.

Amos turned his head to the stallion, seeing how he nodded his head to himself. He figured this would be a better chance to see if he could relax a little or not.

"What brings you here, stranger? I usually see people like you over at Club Lucius. I can't say new faces is against the norm, however."

This was all he needed to say. It would be enough to tell if this guy was serious or just a joke looking for trouble with the wrong stallion. He quickly gulped his shot, letting it burn all the way down his throat.

"Another," he let out to the bar tender before having him pour another shot into his glass.

Last edited at Thu, Jan 15th, 2015 00:34

>> No. 40751354
>The stallion drinks his water slowly, making it last a while before ordering another one. When the other stallion speaks up, he Puts the glass on the bar counter and smirks a bit.
Depends. If your question is why I'm here in the Warrens, it's because I live here. If your question is why am I at this bar, it's because I need a drink after a walk through Burning Bush.
>his smirk becomes a bit of a bigger smirk after a thought
And if you're asking why I'm sitting at this bar next to you, well, can't really understand that one.

Last edited at Thu, Jan 15th, 2015 00:41

>> No. 40751356
File 142130831644.jpg - (264.48KB , 1280x878 , tumblr_nf9le73SL71t1cgnwo1_1280.jpg )
He raised an eyebrow. This stallion was obviously just being confident. It was usually something he liked as long as it felt necessary. Who knows? Maybe he was just having a good day. Amos just took another shot of vodka, putting the glass down with a small thud.

"The Burning Bush, eh? I've been there. I'd be impressed with how much product they can get in there if it wasn't for the fact that everyone there can't stop smoking it. Burning Money seems more fitting to me. All they like to do. But it just makes me more interested in the business. Can't say I'm a big fan of pot, though."

He scoffed, thinking about all the hippies down there, preaching about peace. Their words were as weak as they were, and he hated them for it. He wouldn't know how he would act towards them if it wasn't for the fact that so much potential was still in them.

"You've got a lot of nerve, acting cocky like me. You got a story to back up this attitude, stranger?"
>> No. 40751357
Eh, never been a fan of the stuff either, but whatever suits them.
>He takes another drink from his water, letting the stallion speak as he thinks about how much pot actually does go through that area and how much money there is. Now that might actually go better than his gig at the power plant, if he had the ability or real desire to sell to a bunch of hippies what could probably land him somewhere he didn't want to be. When the stranger asks about his story and backing up his 'cockiness', his smirk turns into an actual smile and he sighs a relaxed sigh.
Me? I'm just glad that even though my life might not be the best life, at least my demons haven't caught up to me yet. And it seems like each day they slowly get farther away.
>> No. 40751358
File 142131039321.jpg - (105.35KB , 420x700 , 2af87a067e919bf026f3c08649652b2b.jpg )
"Heh, lucky you. My 'demons' are attached to part of my skull."

He honestly had no idea what he was talking about. It was better to at least make a guess, since he was in a relaxed state to begin with. Amos felt like his question wasn't really answered, though. Did he mean to do that? To leave him wondering what he was going on about rather than a simple answer. It's understandable to make something a bit more complicated, but Amos never really liked being left to wonder. In most circumstances this made him feel on edge. Like he didn't know what to expect. He honestly didn't care too much here, seeing how he didn't even know the guy he was talking to. At this point he was just making chatter to amuse himself more than find out if this guy was a threat or not. He obviously wasn't going to be starting trouble. Either that or he was just stupid. That didn't seem to be the case either, since Amos truly had his fair share of encounters with true stupidity. The thought still scars him to this day- even if most of his memories on this were rather recent. At least he was still alive to remember it.

As they continued to talk, Blackjack might have noticed some of the more complicated movements of his eye, silently zooming in and out of what his mind was trying to focus on, or just from his tipsy attitude he was getting right now. The effects of vodka always get worse and worse over time. At least he couldn't feel the cold all that much. Made the air all the more enjoyable to breathe, despite the smell that he barely noticed now.

"You're gonna have to tell me more than that if you wanna get my interest," he said with a small chuckle.
>> No. 40751359
File 142131064725.png - (45.58KB , 676x112 , huh 3.png )


>As Blue Velvet sat down somewhere to sleep, Carnage sighed with relief and just leaned back against a nearby wall, her head tilting back to stare at the grey concrete sky above her head. She wouldn't try looking at the other mare, not while her legs were for the simple and very good reason that if Blue had set up some spell to tell her she was being looked at and turned violent for it, Carnage knew she likely couldn't win that fight crippled as she was.

>So instead she just sat there, staring up at the colorless ceiling above her with an extremely neutral expression whilst she suffered through the pain and swelling of her legs whilst waiting for her pony metabolism to fix the broken bones and then she'd take a good long look at the nutjob she lived with with no reserves to smacking her if she even so much as brushed up against Carnage's fur.
>> No. 40751360
>He returns the chuckle with one of his own, thinking about what this stranger said about his own demons. He notices the slight changes and motions in his eye, shifting and zooming in and out, like a camera. This guy had an eye augment. He never really had much of an opinion on augments. Sure they were useful but he wasn't about to let someone do surgery on his body just so he could run just a little faster or see a little farther. He sees the stallion get a little tipsy and answer his question more directly this time
Short version of my story, a few years in the service leaves anyone with a few demons. I was definitely no exception to that.
>He finishes his glass of water and gets another one, but he doesn't drink it just yet.
And what's your story, if I may ask?
>> No. 40751361
File 142131218289.jpg - (220.85KB , 752x1063 , d60637fab2813b366c5d34dacc6ad40c-d56730c.jpg )
"You served in the military? Wouldn't be the first one I've met."

He scratched his beard, thinking about what he's actually been through. It sure was a long time since he first got his augments put in him. Amos either didn't really want to remember what happened or he was just a little too drunk to recall.

"Hmm, I worked during high school. Yes... there was an accident. I ended up losing my leg, my eye, and part of my skull. I had to put my already poor family in debt to pay my hospital bills. These augments aren't cheap, y'know?"

He chuckled, remembering exactly what happened. If it wasn't for his augments he would surely be dead. They did him well, anyways. Sure he had two seizures after the surgery he had, but at least he was able to move and act like a normal pony would.
>> No. 40751978
>Blackjack nods as the stallion talks about how he isn't the first one he's met that was military. If only he knew what Blackjack did in the military. Of course, there was no way he would tell anyone about it. Too much stuff to tell and too much trouble if those things came out in the light. He sips his water and listens as the stallion talks about his life, feeling sorry after hearing it.
Damn. Sounds like you had a tough break. Good thing you were able to get your augments or else I might not be having this conversation. I know a lot of people who were saved by augments
>He takes a quick drink before realizing something. He forgot to ask his name. From the way this guy looks, though, he might not want to say his real name.
By the way, people call me Sarge.

Last edited at Thu, Jan 15th, 2015 16:56

>> No. 40752051
File 142136912307.jpg - (45.71KB , 640x415 , t8ddad7_WileE_Coyote3.jpg )
Fucking hell, haven't felt this bad since the time with the bomb in the car chase.

And with that, the big red drake is once more at least moderately aware of his surroundings. He groans and sits up, immediately flopping back down when his horns smack into the underside of the top bunk. Certainly not looking good.

Arm feels like it was set, at least... couldn't have been out too long or I'd probably have a little use back in it.

He groans audibly and looks around the cell. Really, he hasn't been hit this hard in a long time. Even at his unluckiest recently, he's been good to go in a couple days at most.

Probably because of Agatium taking the time to care for me. Just one more thing to thank him for, as soon as I'm out.

Thinking of his fiancé slowly brings his thoughts around to the pink drake's only family, as far as he knows - his mobster uncle Icefang. And what kind of self-respecting mobster didn't have a few relatively-trusted contracts in the joint? He should find out, as quickly and discreetly as he can.
>> No. 40752074
File 142137072590.jpg - (74.46KB , 808x960 , tumblr_nhtsw9Jl7h1qkbpm3o1_1280.jpg )
"Of course. One of the main reasons why we see augments today is to help those who lost something that made them normal. It'd be a shame if, with all the technology we have, we wouldn't be able to give them something that'll allow them another chance."

He shrugged slightly. It was odd for him to defend what could be seen as weakness to some. What he said was the truth, however. Accidents happen. If someone wasn't able to do much like they used to because they lost a limb or two then they'd have no choice but to be weak. This wasn't the case, but it's still a little interesting to think what things would be like in a different world.

"Huh... my name is Amos," he said plainly.

He had no problem giving his name out to anyone. It wasn't like he had any intentions on going back to a normal life that would leave him vulnerable to cops. Life might even be a little interesting with an obstacle to look forward to. Who knows?

Looking down at the empty shot glass, Amos knew he had enough to drink for the evening. Tipsy is one thing, but getting drunk in a bar by yourself is another. He wasn't willing to let himself get taken by the alcohol.
>> No. 40752080
Yep, even if I don't care for augments myself, they've helped the world advance. I dont think we would have gotten this far in technology without them
>He finishes up his glass of water and chuckles a little
Although with all these useful augments, there's bound to be a point where they just start making exceptionally useless ones. The next thing you know people will have augments that shoot rainbows out of their....well, you get the picture.
>He chuckles a little more at the thought of said augment. He sits there and orders himself another water and some beer pretzels for him and Amos.
Amos, eh? Good name. You look like an Amos. Sounds like the name of a tough guy.

Last edited at Thu, Jan 15th, 2015 18:23

>> No. 40752123
"And I am telling yous we can't help you wit'dat, mista...Swiftwing."

The small one seems more than a little frustrated now, and his sentiments are visibly echoed by the others: they have begun to toss their manes and flare their nostrils in pursuit of other distractions. Some have decided to watch ponies in the next stall over, or stare at their own hooves--in brief, paying attention to anything except you. They conduct themselves with a sort of bored familiarity, as though they've seen your type and heard the pitch before; and presumably, things didn't pan out so well the last few times.

"All we can do fo you's is keep ya safe. We ain't pickin fights fa'yous. Yous get caught trying to put one of them Snakeskins out ta pasture, don't come lookin to us."

It's a maximum-security jail cell, and it looks pretty much exactly how you'd expect it to. Even if you've never been on the inside, you've heard the stories: there's two mats of hay--one of which you are on, one of which is occupied by your cellmate--a sort-of-flowing gutter, and a bunch of claw marks on the walls. The only thing even remotely hospitable about the whole thing is the room's other occupant--a griffon hen, who is snoring soundly as she lies on her straw bed. Presuming to judge her by her first appearance would be a mistake, however; for upon closer inspection you can clearly see a spiderweb of tribal tattoos on her flank, and the very painful-looking steel finishing on her claws. She seems like the sort to rake your eye out if you wake her prematurely.
>> No. 40752128
File 142138095985.png - (15.54KB , 194x182 , air14.png )
Air had not been the most social of faces during the past couple of weeks. One could say that the events of their last mission had sort of put a damper on her overall mood, and desire to interact with just about anyone. It was after this long and very cold period that she finally picked up her phone and gave Lunacy a call, hoping he'd answer.
>> No. 40752129
File 142138126782.png - (173.45KB , 1000x1000 , This many!.png )

Pretty punctual with picking up, as always. It stands to reason that Lunacy kept his phone on him at all times - or, shit, had welded it to his brain already. Who would be surprised, really?
>> No. 40752134
File 142138165406.png - (14.86KB , 192x182 , Air12.png )
Being cooped up and all alone in an apartment wasn't a good way to maintain one's social skills, even for someone who made their living with them. Air took a moment to breathe before...he spoke into the phone.

"''s it been since the know..."

Air made a sort of popping motion with his mouth that carried over well into the call, which was about as vast of an understatement for a nuke going off that he could manage.
>> No. 40752137
File 142138188977.jpg - (105.35KB , 420x700 , 2af87a067e919bf026f3c08649652b2b.jpg )
"If you say so."

He rolled his eyes, not sure if this guy was sucking up to him now. What would he even want from him? He wasn't trying to get information on criminals, was he? Nah, he didn't seem clever enough to trick someone into talking. He still didn't even get why he was here. With a talk about how augments were a benefit to the world, Amos figured one of them should be bored at this point and wanting to move on.

He looked down at the pretzels. This wasn't exactly what he'd expect to be the main dish at a bar. Maybe Sarge really did get high at Burning Bush. He was making small talk with a stranger he just met who wore clothes that already seemed rather shady, and he was munching on snacks and an innocent drink in a bar. He had to be.

"Um... what's this for?" he asked, looking down at the pretzels.

He frowned a little, feeling like he was being treated like some sort of child. It wasn't much of a surprise that he didn't even bother to try and eat it.

"I'm... not hungry..."

Keeping this expression, the forehead of his aged face would crease from the awkward look he was giving as he looked down at the pretzel, only retorting back to his neutral gaze as he looked back up to the stallion that tried to offer it to him kindly.
>> No. 40752143
File 142138205354.png - (146.63KB , 1000x1056 , that's nice.png )
A long sigh can be heard through the call, distorted slightly, as is the nature of digital communication.

"Yeah, yeah. It happened. I even had to... well, there's a few things I'd rather talk about face-to-face than through a phone. Maybe soon." he says. He's obviously even just a bit unhappy, which is a touch out of place for someone who might very likely go on a killing spree at any given moment. "Either way! Hope you've been holding up well, what'cha need?"
>> No. 40752149
File 142138267162.png - (15.39KB , 196x182 , Air5.png )
"What I need is a time machine to fix that whole trainwreck, but that isn't happening. But what I want is...well how to explain it..."

Lunacy can hear him shift in place as some paper rustle quietly in the background.

"...right before she ran off to save our flanks, Miss Vector actually told me something. I didn't understand it at the time and I've been spending all of this time f-f-f-fu... *deep breath* trying to. She just said...something about...well it's really what she said after I was asking why she told me something...nice. When I asked her why she was telling me, she said: 'Because I'll never get another chance. One body can't contain me--that's
why the Mad Mare crumbled. But the dragon--the dragon can! Find me--it's all on you, now.'"

"Does that mean anything to you? I've been thinking about it and researching random useless shit all this time and it doesn't seem any closer to making sense..."
>> No. 40752152
File 142138294721.png - (189.79KB , 1030x1000 , Staaaaaare.png )
Lunacy falls silent for a good few moments, the witty (or at least so he'd think) retort to that time travel comment dying in his throat as Air continues on to explain something. There was an air of importance seeping through the phone - metaphorically, of course.

"... The dragon. The six-headed dragon."
>> No. 40752154
You'd be amazed the kind of things that keep you from getting too drunk.
>He sips his glass. He definitely didn't act like he was high. Certainly didn't talk that way either. Simply out he was trying to make small talk. And it didn't seems to be working that well, considering the person he's conversing with is starting to lose interest. He starts thinking of something to talk about and the only thing that comes to mind is the news that seems to be everywhere right now.
So, you hear about those four who just got busted?
>> No. 40752155
File 142138319914.png - (15.42KB , 190x180 , Air11.png )

The phone gets a blast of his breath as he pulls it closer to his face, obviously interested in what Lunacy was referring to.

"What are you talking about? Do you think when she mentioned multiple bodies it could really refer to just...multiple brains...heads?"
>> No. 40752160
File 142138343838.png - (170.85KB , 1000x1049 , You'll fit nicely in the airlock.png )
"No, no, no. I was talking to her a while back, and I asked her about the 'six-headed dragon' - it's not a eupherism for anything, seriously - because... back on the day we went to the dream, I hallucinated hardcore, and saw that. Among some other things."

"She told me the six-headed dragon was her original form, back in the third or second or whatever-age. Thousands of years ago, for sure."
>> No. 40752164
File 142138370304.png - (18.52KB , 192x228 , Air9.png )

There's a loud thump from the other end of the line.

"That doesn't really tell me how I'm supposed to be able to 'find her' but..."

Air blinked.

"...wait just a second, you don't don't think she's gone here but can still be found in dreams? No no...that can't be it, Luna would have found her already in that case..."
>> No. 40752167
File 142138383941.png - (194.86KB , 1000x1000 , Why yes, I DO want to start my free trial of AOL.png )
"... I think you're overthinking it a bit, Air."

"Whatever the six-headed dragon is, we need to find it, sure. But we also need to find out what it is. So, I figure, probably the first thing to do would be to ask someone who would know - like Luna."

"When she's not... ah, mourning for her friend's loss. Yeah. Don't want to interrupt that."
>> No. 40752171
File 142138413316.jpg - (111.99KB , 900x499 , tumblr_nhtlx4Yfcp1tycmn3o1_1280.jpg )
The stallion waved his arm slightly in response to him.

"Nah, I'll be fine. A few shots isn't enough to blow me over, heheh."

He chuckled a bit until he heard him talking about the recent bust in the terrorists. The terrorists that apparently burned a huge part of the city once, and seemed like they could work as murdering machines just as much as they could work as regular operators. It wasn't too long when he discovered what happened to them.

"Yeah, I heard... I knew two of those crooks who got themselves busted like a bunch of idiots."

Amos sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"Makes me glad I never decided to be a part of their little group they had going on. Although with what I do now, I might not be in any better of a situation," he said; a small grin appearing and disappearing as soon as it came. "You know about what they do?"
>> No. 40752175
File 142138450833.png - (15.53KB , 194x182 , Airglasses4.png )
"She uh...she would probably be the one to ask. She might be upset that I didn't mention what Vector said sooner but..."

Air paused.

"Would you like me to be the one to tell her when she's feeling better?"
>> No. 40752187
File 142138507162.png - (173.45KB , 1000x1000 , This many!.png )
"Let's just give her some time before we head back to it. She... wasn't exactly in the best of moods the other day."

"So, I say we do a little something else, first. You remember Helter Skelter, right - were you there for that, when we bought those guns? Let's go rob him blind!"
>> No. 40752191
File 142138563131.png - (21.07KB , 236x255 , Air1.png )
"I...actually wasn't. But if he's got something worth taking then I do think we might as well get it, we'll need it for getting the best shit for taking down 'her'."

He paused again.

"We might wanna meet about this with the rest of the peeps in person and not over the phone."
>> No. 40752194
File 142138609423.png - (170.85KB , 1000x1049 , You'll fit nicely in the airlock.png )
"Gold, Air, gooooooold!"

Lunacy chuckles to himself.

"And probably some guns he took off of us too. Hopefully. I'll see if I can't get that organized and meet you around."
>> No. 40752268
He only stares for a moment before he shakes his head and makes himself comfortable, resolving to keep a wary eye on her. He hadn't expected them to assign opposite-gendered cellmates, even if they weren't of the same species.

Still, even before he makes note of her addons - and how did she get gear like that in here, anyway? - he's figured that just by her presence here, he can assume she's bad news.
>> No. 40752289
At roughly the same time, in roughly the same circumstance, though on opposite sides of the prison--which is still roughly the same place--you make yourselves comfortable as best you can, and the time trickles away as surely as sand in an hourglass. In this way, your first few hours in Dead Man's Ridge pass uneventfully...

You are soon roused from your slumber in the most unpleasant of ways--the rattling of your cell bars by a Lonestar guard, who waves his shotgun back and forth. He is accompanied by two others, each similarly armed and sporting a scowl; but the first among them is unlocking your door and beckoning you forth.

"Igneus Shieldscale, Mordred Jay, it's rec time."

The griffon, in response, merely raises her talons in an obscene gesture--the severity of which is surely lost on the guard, but very plain to you. She doesn't even open her eyes.


"Carnage! Velvet! On your hooves--now!"

You are jerked out of bed in what is quite possibly the single most unpleasant way imaginable: some guy smashing his rifle butt into your stomach, while another wraps your face in a halter and locks it into place. Before you've even had time to process the situation your training has kicked in, and you're flying at the guards all piss-and-vinegar; but it's only a second after waking that you realize your nerves haven't healed nearly enough for that yet. You are yanked, in this fashion, from your bed; and as you blink the darkness out of your eyes, you can see the guards that have been assigned to Velvet: Nothing less than a spec-ops unit, at a glance.

"Come on, shower time."
>> No. 40752291
I can guess.
>He finishes his water and doesn't order another one, his tone and posture more serious but with a hint of neutrality, like someone possessed in thought over something of grave importance, focused on details down to the smallest ones.
Of course, when the news says 'terrorist', it can only mean a very small pool of things. Considering these guys are organized, that cuts the list in half. The fact that they work in only Canterlot narrows it down more. Given the final fact, that they also seem to be moderately successful and have big enough reputation to warrant this amount of attention, narrows it down to only one thing. They were Operators, weren't they?
>He takes a few more pretzels and eats them, still seeming focused on the topic in front of him
And I'm guessing that means you're in the same business, too.
>> No. 40752297
File 142139476587.jpg - (24.47KB , 636x358 , rta5zyn9olmzecjsfywg.jpg )
"You're a real sherlock, aren't you? Of course I did make it rather obvious, didn't I. You can find plenty of them around here. I don't suppose you have any intention on ratting me out, do you? I'd hate to see a spirit like you gettin' glued in a place like this."

And letting that out, he took a deep breathe, putting his hooves on the bar counter and getting out of his seat.

"Do you want me to say 'please'?" he asked with a grin.
>> No. 40752303
>The smile comes back to his face, only with a more amused sort of look accompanied by it, as if he heard a comic tell a bad joke that was somehow still mildly funny. He stays at the seat, not getting up just yet, and looks Amos in the eyes.
Of course I have no intention of ratting a new acquaintance out. Especially one that might help me get a good paying night job sometime.
>> No. 40752305
File 142139550902.png - (102.28KB , 668x169 , Bunch of shit.png )


>Yep, rifle butt to the chest wasn't an extremely pleasant sensation on the best of days, waking up with the violent lurch of her stomach that knocked the wind from you as some big thug locked a harness around her before she could even process what was going on or why was even worse but it wasn't until she'd tricked to crack the guard in the face through an opening in his posture and failed because her legs were both sluggish and weak still that she felt utterly miserable.

Fucking Jackasses!

>That's right, her legs were still broken and she was locked in the big house now. It was then no wonder that she couldn't put up a decent fight against these guys, she could barely stand on her own as it was. Letting herself lay down and do whatever it was they wanted, one of the prison thugs walked up to her and attached a chain link to her halter and, holding the other link in his mouth, started dragging the much smaller mare across the floor towards whatever destination they meant for her to explore. The guards had mentioned the showers and, if whatever the Old Man had told her about prison life was true, her day was about to get a whole lot worse when every inmate would try to get a piece of the new meat.

>Yet, even as she silently despaired at her crippled condition and what was undoubtedly in store for her, Carnage looked back to see no less than two to three times the amount of specialized units handle Velvet and put her in a similar transport getup to hers. Carnage's legend was infamous across the operator world and she'd somehow expected no less than the best to be guarding her cell and handling her case but this Blue Velvet was something else entirely seeing how carefully the prison was taking her case. Just who was this mare that she'd warrant such a ridiculous escort just to go to the showers?

Last edited at Fri, Jan 16th, 2015 01:05

>> No. 40752307
File 142139555161.png - (99.98KB , 689x1160 , ooh that had to hurt.png )
Swiftwing stared concretely as he listened along to the elaboration the Bluebloods' leader gave. Eyes softly drifting to the other members who seemed to have stopped caring, all the way back to Umi as his mind processed the answer they were given. A soft frown splayed across his lips as he realized there would be no help if they were jumped, which would seem likely considering... well the scene they had found themselves in. And these were no trainee Lonestar grunts. These were serious criminals who really have done some shit and could easily be more than capable of handling themselves, let along be with an entire gang to back them up.

"I understand... You don't want to get involved. It's not your business and you're just trying to survive..." He cast another side glance up to Umi and let out a soft sigh, looking back down, knowing what his own mind was wandering to wouldn't be the answer Umi wanted. "We'll... have to be especially careful.. that is, if we even do it at all..." He turned his head back to Umi. "2 against an entire gang aren't the best of odds, even for us... at least head on."

Last edited at Fri, Jan 16th, 2015 01:10

>> No. 40752312
File 142139605135.jpg - (394.01KB , 648x950 , tumblr_nfuwn7soJt1re6jqdo1_1280.jpg )
Who was this guy? Certainly no one he'd ever think would be in this bar, that's for sure. He thought it was silly, but maybe... just maybe this guy was worth more than his look.

"Hmmm, you really think you have what it takes to make it in this kind of business?"

Amos made a cheeky smile, chuckling as he looked down for a second.

"I... might actually have some work for you. The only thing is I'm not gonna just trust anyone with what I plan to do. You better be useful, and you better know how to do what you're told- and that's if I give you the light of day."
>> No. 40752320
>He gives a little chuckle in response and leans back a little, like he was thinking about the stallion's proposal. It didn't take him much time to think though. A shitty job, the two things he had of value was a damned knife and bedroll, and the only thing he would be known for would be his blacked out file. Unless he did something, that would be him. Maybe this guy can stop him from going that way. And if not, he would at least make sure to go down trying.
You know most of my life I've spent taking orders from someone. I suppose I could take a few more before my life's over. If you need someone to help make things happen, just call me. Something tells me you can use someone who's got some experience under their belt in the way of taking care of people.
>> No. 40752321
File 142139774221.jpg - (105.35KB , 420x700 , 2af87a067e919bf026f3c08649652b2b.jpg )
Amos narrowed his eyes, taking a long look at him. He stared at him for a moment or two before nodding his head.

"Here's my phone. Put your number in there. Expect a call within the next few days. We'll talk more about what good you'll do."

Upon speaking to Sarge, he pulled out a regular flip phone, giving it to him.
>> No. 40752324
>Blackjack nods and types in his phone number, listing it under 'Sarge', then hands it back to who could potentially be a good start for him. That is, if this guy was true to his word.
Here you go. I promise as long as you are honest and good on your word, I'll be more than willing to help.
>He gets up and away from the bar a little, starting to go out of the bar, but pausing a second for on final thing.
It probably goes without saying, but I'm gonna need some gear before anything else.
>> No. 40752325
He chuckled, hearing him say this.

"Don't we all?"

Amos quickly holds his hoof up as if wanting to stop him for one last word.

"I'll be true to my word, and you'll do me good work, and I'll make sure we both get out of this with a shit ton of money."

And with that, Amos sent Sarge off, leaving him alone with his thoughts and plans.
>> No. 40752326
Alright then. I'll expect a call then. Nice meeting you, Amos. I hope we become good business partners.
>And with that he leaves the bar and heads for home and his bedroll, his impression on Amos hopefully leaving enough to warrant a call and some business.

Last edited at Fri, Jan 16th, 2015 02:19

>> No. 40752771
File 142145281410.png - (215.89KB , 475x240 , Grin2.png )
The big red drake sighs, then glances from his cellmate to the other two with the little twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Taking care not to favor his broken limb too much, he shrugs and settles back down languidly. "I dunno, I think I like it in here. As long as you put me here, might as well stay put, right?"

And then he does let the smirk turn into one of his full-fledged, very toothy grins.
>> No. 40752813
File 142145483386.png - (330.98KB , 720x851 , How bored can I be_.png )
Useless. He knew it. They were out to protect their own skins. He could, for now, understand. They wanted nothing to do with starting anything with another gang. They probably weren't in, waiting for death either. He simply shrugged, seemingly as uninterested as the others were now. "I won't drag you into a fight you have no part in." His voice was soft, hard to hear over the ambient sounds of the shower/recreation area.

A simple nod was the answer Swiftwing received. The stallion chewed the inside of his lip, trying to just hold back the venom building inside him, lest he spit it at the group around him. As loathe as he was to admit it, the stallion needed them. He had to stay somewhat healthy, and that wasn't going to happen, if he didn't have some form of protection. "Fine...we won't start anything now. But if they come after us again, when we're more healed up, then their lives are forfeit." The pegasus grew silent, seemingly done with the conversation, and as uninterested as the rest of them.
>> No. 40752843
File 142145586866.jpg - (11.27KB , 310x233 , prisonerisolatedsmall.jpg )
Good question; and even when you finally get a good look at your mysterious cellmate, you have no idea. This is because (in addition to the six armed guards who are surrounding her and leading her by rope) Velvet has been outfitted in a fashion similar to you, but several times more constricting and blindingly obvious--literally, in fact:her face has been completely smothered by some strange fibrous mask, without eye or mouth holes; and upon her back has been draped a saddle laden down with heavy iron weights; and the whole ensemble, for reasons you can only guess at, has been plastered with over a dozen bright silver-and-orange reflective strips. Every inch of her is twinkling; and while you're perfectly capable of looking at her now, doing so is something of a painful endeavor. However, you are able to make out that she is a unicorn; and that she is blue. The rest is anyone's guess.

The lonestars drag you by the head from your cell and along the floor. The sight of the cell block is something to behold, for better or for worse: for it is a picture of ingenuity and squalor intermingled. The "Block" is really more of a "ring" in this case--a massive circular chamber, standing some four stories high. Each story is denoted by a wire mesh wraparound balcony, and connected by way of an elevator; and into the walls there have been carved dozens upon dozens of cells, each of which host at least two prisoners. In this respect, your captivity is nearly merciful: your cell is on the first floor, and you are not raked across the wire as you might have been. Instead you are pulled over the smooth concrete, with Velvet and her escort plodding along behind you, into a narrow and darkened corridor.

"Hey, Braycuss. I like the ass on the orange one...think I can take her into the back room?"

One of the Lonestars guarding Velvet--one with a shotgun and a tactical suit--speaks up. In response, one of the ones guarding you--a goat of all things, with naught but a pistol and a stern look--answers back:

"Don't be an a-a-a-asswipe, buddy. She's a prisoner, not a fucking blow-up doll."

"Eh, fuck you. Killjoy."

"Hey, don't you fucking gimme tha--"

The Lonestar guard is interrupted by a hoof from his buddy, who shakes his head and murmurs something or another. With a sigh, he locks your cell door again and moves onto the next one down the line--evidently he's not that willing to make a fuss over you. You are left alone with Mordred then, for what that's worth: she's still curled up with her eyes closed, even as she tucks her foreleg underneath herself. It seems, though, that she isn't going to try to go back to sleep--instead, she speaks up to you.

"Shieldscale, huh? Nice NDP. Sounds really...real."

Her voice is low and scratchy, and evidently more than a little labored--she either has or needs vocal augments.
>> No. 40752865
File 142145694882.gif - (81.90KB , 60x56 , Firebat_SC1_HeadAnim1.gif )
"I've never been entirely sure it... suits me. Seems to work well enough, though." He sighs and leans against the wall. "So, what do I call you?"

He studies her unabashedly. He figures she'll notice anyway if he tries to be surreptitious about it, so why bother?
>> No. 40753133
File 142147585060.png - (94.80KB , 671x178 , Well fuck.png )
>As she was being dragged across the floor with the guards quite openly talking about raping her whilst presumably on camera, Carnage simply lay limp as a ragdoll, feeling quite content letting these armed assholes make idiots of themselves in front of eachother. But even as she was getting a free ride down to a public space where abuse and debasement awaited her, Carnage's attention was still fixated on the other mare accompanying her as the getup she was wearing really was painful to look at even at a distance.

>With her legs already broken and her passivity assured, Carnage decided to take her chances and ask the guards directly what was up with her cellmate and, in doing so, hoped to uncovered who or what she might be.

So... why can't we look at her?

>Carnage asked the guard with the shotgun and tactical outfit, fully expecting him to rebuff her with insults or a blow across the jaw for having spoken to him in the first place, but hey, might at least he'd already proven he was above rape so he might even be willing to talk with her a bit.
>> No. 40753164
"Good. Now yous guys try and heal up, we'll keep the Snakeskins off yous and maybe then we--"

"HEY! Time's up! outta the showers, fellas!"

Your nominally-friendly conversation is interrupted by a remarkably unfriendly presence: namely, one of the Lonestars posted at the door. He waves his shotgun towards the pair of you and jerks his head backwards--it's time to go back to the cell, by the looks of it. Just the thought of that cramped cinderblock coffin for another minute is enough to send a shiver down your spine--let alone for twelve whole hours. But, when in jail, do as the Jailers say...

"Wasn't ya listening? Mordred...Jay. Now say it back to me or I'll tattoo it on ya'ass."

Mordred Jay has the distinctively slurred accent and uncouth mannerisms of someone from one of the many rural areas out west--Probably from somewhere around Appleoosa, though it's anyone's guess what a griffon was doing all the way out there.

Tactical-and-shotgun guy looks like he might be about to raise a fuss; but a stern look from the goat kills that in his throat. Then, your friend-among-the-enemies answers up.

"Ma-a-a-gic. Your head just bla-a-anks out if you make eye conta-a-act. We ha-a-ave to do her up like tha-a-a-t or she can walk right by us."

In a moments' time you are set loose in the showers: a miserable six-foot-wide mist-washed corridor devoid of any friendlies to speak of. No Umi, no Igneus, no Andrew. Just you, Blue Velvet, and a few dozen miserable-looking convicts.
>> No. 40753169
File 142147797047.png - (184.12KB , 1856x2924 , I can play too___.png )
Listening on, Swiftwing began to gain a bit more interest as to what the Bluebloods said they could possibly do... until interrupted by the Lonestar guard. To that, Swiftwing let out a slightly annoyed sigh. He knew Umi was not very happy right now, and that Swiftwing would have to spend the next 12 hours isolated with him. He knew the best thing might be to just let the barbarian alone and avoid getting him angry, but at the same time... Swiftwing's lighter attention span probably did not hint too well to be able to do so. He knew he wouldn't be able to thrive too well in isolation with a rather disgruntled stallion. It'd be hard enough doing it with a not-angry giant stallion. Obeying the ranger, Swiftwing turned around and began to exit the shower with the others to be led back to their cell.
>> No. 40753180
File 142147867336.png - (576.89KB , 1345x1345 , Another pic.png )
Maybe then they could? Fuck! The stallion wheeled, looking to the voice, and stiffening up. Back to the cell...His eyes narrowed, slightly, the stallion, perhaps, thinking of fighting, just to stay in a slightly more open area. Where he was from, things like solitary confinement didn't exist, so he had no idea just how badly he could be made to suffer. Nut it seemed he wouldn't be finding out today. Instead he walked to the door, waiting, silently. He did watch the guards though, seemingly just judging and observing how they locked down Swiftwing and himself.
>> No. 40753187
He shrugs, trying not to favor the side with the broken limb as he rolls his broad shoulders. "Just 'cause some guy in uniform calls ya somethin' doesn't mean it's what you want folks callin' ya. I'm not interested in causin' problems I don't need to be causin'."

He sighs and shakes his head. She hadn't jumped him with all the pointy shit, so he figured he was more or less okay with her. Certainly better in here than braving the yard with absolutely nothing to go on. "So, I'll ask once. There anything I might do without meanin' to that'd mean we had a problem?"
>> No. 40753244
File 142148274495.png - (90.17KB , 542x228 , okay.png )


>Well, that was something to say the least, Carnage knew absolutely nothing about magic but from what she understood then it had to be something pretty damn special if even looking at the mare made everyone blank the fuck out. As she stared at the getup Blue Velvet had been made to wear, a new realisation dawned over Carnage as she concluded that the only reason that the unicorn would have asked her not to stare at her was so that she wouldn't blank out. Meaning that, batshit crazy ramblings aside and far too intimate touchings aside, the mare had been well intentions in everything she did back there.

Well damn.

>That little nugget of information changed her perspective of her cellmate entirely seeing as she might well be her one and only ticket out of this hellhole. Hell, given how valuable she was, if she could manage to be given a bath of some kind, Carnage might even let the loony touch her for once.

Last edited at Sat, Jan 17th, 2015 17:24

>> No. 40754371
While you're not exactly an expert on Equestrian prison standards, you're fairly certain you get off easy as far as restraints go: no muzzles, no manacles, no four-leg cuffs; that's probably because you only have reputations as hardened criminals, instead of out-and-out lunatics. You just get a halter each and four guards with guns--two leading you back to the cells by rope, and two standing behind you just in case you try anything inadvisable. If you were better armed or in better health, you'd probably be able to fight your way out of this escort--but the rest of the jail surrounding it is a different story entirely. It's a short walk back to the cells--literally just a U-turn and an elevator ride back up to your coffin. You have a second-story cell, in between some lunatic mare in a muzzle and some huge dragon covered in neighzi tattoos--fine people each, to be sure. Without any ceremony, the lonestars deposit you back in your cells and shut the door; and one of them leaves you with a simple:

"Nice job. Seeya again in 12, boys."

You recognize his voice in an instant as the one who put the bounty on you. He doesn't seem to want to stick around for a conversation, though--he's already gone.

"You lay in my nest once, you lay in a grave next. Other than that, we cool."

Mordred snorts and crosses her forelegs over her chest. She's not sleeping, though: with a quick motion she braces her wingtips against the ground, and begins doing inverted wing-ups like she doesn't even care. She's working very hard to seem apathetic and distant, in your expert opinion. In between wing-ups, she rummages her claw around in her nest; and after several long seconds, withdraws a tattoo gun that was very clearly made from a spool of thread, an old needle, and a turkey carver. If you got ink done with that thing you'd be feeling it for the next eight months.

"And I'm still waitin for you to say it back to me."

"Alright, here you are..."

The goat detaches the lead rope and ushers you into the showers now. The mist almost immediately sets upon your eyelashes, and your mane is already damp; and in a few minutes' time it'll make your halter chafe almost unbearably. But, it's better than being locked up in a cell with a crazy person for a few more hours.

"See you in fifteen minutes. And my advice? Keep your a-a-a-ass to the wall."

He says this with a very pointed look at one of Velvet's escort, as they shove your celly into the showers behind you. Rather unsurprisingly given that she's blindfolded and bound, she gracelessly slips and lands shoulder-first on the tile; and there she lays, motionless save her breathing. It's not until the guards have very definitely left you be that she speaks again.

"...You can look at me now, by the way."
>> No. 40754402
File 142154325190.gif - (81.90KB , 60x56 , Firebat_SC1_HeadAnim1.gif )
"Fair enough, Mordred Jay." He casts a brief critical eye over the gun, then shrugs. "I'm pretty sure you need special equipment to do scale work anyway."

With his arm damaged, he settles for rolling onto his back and beginning a set of sit-ups, but not before he finds himself unable to resist uttering the corny, if informative line. "So, what're you in for?"
>> No. 40754504
File 142154811276.jpg - (942.32KB , 1600x1200 , blame-killi-kiberpank.jpg )
Club Lucius was a place where anyone could be safe, without a doubt; a safe haven. The cops couldn't get you here because it was a big space with a lot of ponies and built just where you could have multiple ways of getting out before they even have an idea that you might have exited. And rival operators wouldn't dare touch you in the place where several sympathizers would line up to form a wall of potential violence if they so much as looked at you the wrong way. These were the rumors, anyways.

Amos always saw this as the perfect place to start, and with the knowledge he had when he first got into this business, he was 100% certain there'd be others there too. Others with the same ideas, the same methods, and -most importantly- the same eagerness to make some money while putting a name for yourself on wanted posters. It was a business; a profession. Not many were cut out for it, and out of those numbers even little were willing to do what he was planning. But there was only one way to do it, for in this world it may feel as if merit and experience aren't enough anymore. If Amos had any intentions on getting big in this industry, he needed a form of network. This was step one.

Walking into the club, he'd look around, trying to spot anyone that stood out of the crowd. Like someone that could help him. All of them seemed the same. Like the type of operators that either have work already or are looking for it. They all appeared to be interested in the shit in the barrel. This wasn't what he needed. If he was going to make everything big for himself, he'd need someone who was just as willing to get into the real meat of the business industry as he was.

He sat down at the bar before waving the bar tender over, his thoughts heavy on what he should do and how he should do it.

Last edited at Sat, Jan 17th, 2015 22:12

>> No. 40754674
File 142155476348.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
Umi went quietly enough, for now. The escort was light, and he had a feeling that could mean good things for the future. However, as they approached the cells, the stallion's mood seemed to sour even more. He looked at the entrance with nothing short of pure hatred, before looking at the guards. Though he did enter the cell, as they ushered him in. His ears perked, as he heard the guard, looking to see it was the one who had put a bounty on him. His eyes narrowed, as he hurried away. "Coward..." He muttered.

Back in their cell, and confined as they were, Umi did what many did in jail. He started pacing. Back and forth, and back and forth he went. Like an animal in a cage, the stallion paced before the bars of the cell, watching what little activity happened outside of it. But there was a method to his madness. Anypony who had been injured knew that an injured pony had to be rehabilitated, and he was doing just that. Healing muscles and bones were given a proper workout, free of convicts looking for fights. He seemed to ignore his cellmate, for now, instead concentrating on his own body, and how well it was healing. He was hoping, praying that one or two of them might try to attack, the next time there was a chance. When they did, he would be ready, waiting. He didn't have his weapons, but that made no difference. Hooves, forehead, teeth, all of them were things he could use, and would, if given the chance. And if he ever got his hooves on the guard... A thin, cruel smile crept onto his muzzle, as the stallion imagined what he'd do, if given the chance.
>> No. 40754774
File 142155977389.png - (98.82KB , 459x197 , Thought you'd kill me.png )

Yea... thanks.

>Carnage said as the helpful tactical goat man, whose noble actions had halted an attempted rape and given her all kinds of helpful knowledge about her own cellmate, before walking away with the rest of his posy and leaving the two girls alone and defenseless in a shower full of implied rapists who would want nothing more than to do to her and Velvet what everyone else seem in this damned joint seemed obsessed with doing. Great, fantastic, the freaking halter they'd snapped on her head would chafe like crazy in no time and she was already getting looks from the other inmates that really didn't inspire her with any confidence for these wackjobs.

Right... lets get you cleaned up Velvet, you smell like ripe asparagus.

>Carnage said as she managed to painfully get on her still cracked limbs to approach the bound and trapped mare, doing what she could to try and roll the dump blue pone under a shower head where she could presumable have some of that gunk washed out of her fur.
>> No. 40754817
"Thank you..."

Velvet doesn't put up any struggle at all as you roll her under the showerhead; in fact, she does her best to cooperate. Given that she's blind and bound and all, "Her best" in this case means "slowly sitting up on her haunches and not raising a fuss as you shove her underneath a showerhead", Once you've put her underneath it she tilts her head and folds her ears just so, allowing the water to run down over her fur and neck--though with the reflective strips and the various shackles tacked onto her, it's not doing even half as much as it should be. That being said, she appreciates the gesture.

"Now get the fuck off me, don't make it gay."

"Multiple counts of grand theft, and forcibly tattooing the wrong person."

She looses a gentle chuckle then, and cracks open one eye to get a good look at you: and then, evidently appeased by your immediate devotion to personal health, she gives an approving nod. After a moment's silence longer she elaborates:

"Drew a cock right across the guy's face. Foreskin and everything."

There's a different one in here tonight--though it takes you longer to spot him than it probably should. There's three kinds of faces in the crowd tonight: the wolfish and hungry looks of guys on the prowl; the cold, calloused look of people here either on or in between existing business; and the third one--the important one--is the one held by only one or two guys. It's a laid-back, relaxed, dominant sort of look--like an exec at a casting couch, or some sleazy blackjack dealer. It's the kind of look that says "I own everyone in this room whether they know it or not".

Appropriately, the two or three guys who have that look on their face are talking to so many ponies that you can tell right away just who they are: Contract brokers.

"Hey, fucko. Lookin for work?"

One of them cries out to you as you pass. He's a real city slicker type--the sort with a green coat and a brushed-up mane, and wife beater and a gold chain with a credit sign at the end. He's got a mare on each foreleg and one between his hinds, and a face like a grease puddle with a pubic hair beard. A real grade-A unlikeable jackass, is the point--but he's the kind whos' got work.

Last edited at Sat, Jan 17th, 2015 23:50

>> No. 40754828
File 142156249408.png - (78.41KB , 900x1125 , Swagga over here, Swagga over there.png )
Swiftwing stayed silent for the transfer, not wanting to put up any force which would in return put up any aggression towards him or Umi that could hinder their recovering legs. He would give a cautious look to Umi, silently hoping he would make no rash actions, and glad that Umi did not. Swiftwing's ears rang out as he heard the guard, and turned his head, he had just as much of a right to be angry at him as Umi, and he would only hope they'd be so lucky as to get the same guard if they ever decided to cause a bit of a fight, just to include him on the fight.

Entering the cell, Swiftwing sighed and looked around as if to see anything that was not there before, as if something were to have changed. Finding nothing of course, Swiftwing trotted to his corner of the room and reclined up, resting down on his legs a moment. With as similar thought process as Umi, Swiftwing did not simply let his legs stiffen up, he would stretch them out while at the same time letting Umi have time to himself, not wanting to bother the much larger stallion. He gave a real good look around the room as if to look for anything.. anything he could perhaps use or that wasn't securely bolted down as if to be a weapon of some kind. Hell, it didn't even have to be that, he just tried to look for anything of interest.

Perception if necessary
Target 2: 1d10 = 4
>> No. 40754866
File 142156511193.jpg - (111.99KB , 900x499 , tumblr_nhtlx4Yfcp1tycmn3o1_1280.jpg )
They would see Amos wearing his suit under his duster coat- if at all possible. With his mane a mess, his appearance might very well make him look like your standard crook.

Amos stood there for a moment now that he realized that someone was paying attention and that what he was looking for literally just invited him over in a rather rude way. He looked at the guy. In his thoughts almost everything about him was revolting and unsettling to the eyes. It made him glad he lost one of them!

When a pony would usually speak to Amos this way he would almost certainly have some sort of plan to murder him in the most horrifying way possible before the cops showed up, but these two had something he wanted a part of. This couldn't be so bad, after all. Spending so many years working for an insurance company, the stallion had grown used to the way some ponies would talk to him, allowing Amos to see the goal over the obstacle, and the money buried in the shit. This was probably the only reason why he would pull off an appearance that didn't make it obvious that he wanted to rip out his entrails on the spot.

So with a nod he said "Gentlemen, I'm not here for work, necessarily. I came here to talk business. You see... I'm a stallion who's a lot like you. I don't give a shit unless you're talking money. But unlike you I have more of a drive. You can call it new blood or whatever, but I think we all know that I'm willing to go further than what you fine gentlemen can do on your own, and we all can certainly benefit from that."

He grinned at the thought of what he could do. Watching his plans going into action in his head and seeing how big he could really make himself was more than enough to block out the idea of having to deal with ponies he probably wouldn't like in the long run.
>> No. 40754881
File 142156565065.png - (68.97KB , 294x221 , Drinking 3.png )
>Yep, that was definitely one crazy mare. You had to be to worry about looking gay after your cellmate woke up with a sore butt and some of the first few words out of your mouth were comments on how you'd expected them to be tighter. Not like it actually mattered though, insane or not, Velvet was Carnage's most obvious ticket out of this hellhole and she sure as hell wasn't going to argue.

Whatever you say semen monkey.

>And thus, leaning back against a nearby wall in an effort to lay off her still aching and painful limbs, Carnage took her eyes off her blindingly colored golden ticket as she soaked in the hot water for a few minutes. So far nobody had come to demand extra servings of rape and she had spent of whole of one minute in the showers. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all...

Last edited at Sun, Jan 18th, 2015 14:35

>> No. 40754992
File 142157101541.jpg - (297.20KB , 1138x1920 , 1421091907610.jpg )
Farasi let the silence hang for some time, busying himself with draining the rest of his glass. The wine tasted quite nice, he decided with a purse of the lips, as if to wring the last drops from his mangled mouth. He barely noticed that there were no further ideas forthcoming as he wrapped a hoof around the neck of the bottle and poured himself another glass. His hooves shook ever so slightly, but he kept the mouth close enough to the rim that it made no difference. He frowned, staring at the offending appendages. Setting the bottle back down, he grabbed the glass again and took a long, leisurely drink.

Bringing it away with a vaguely satisfied, dead smile, his momentary pleasure died as he glanced about at the assembled company. The silence was beginning to seem awkward. His lip twisted again.

"Guess that's a no," Farasi muttered darkly. Their lack of options was starkly illuminated.

"Like y'said," he said, louder, and with a certain grim amusement. "We don't got much choice. I figure that's as good a plan as we can get, far as gettin' in's concerned."
>> No. 40755781
The contract broker pins his ears and looks to each of the mares surrounding him. It's the classic "are you shitting me" look--the kind you throw when some guy logs onto Playground of the Gods and asks how you autoattack. Most of them are pre-occupied with the obvious, but one or two of his hangers-on mimic his expression with all of the disdain but none of the comprehension--the very worst sort of sycophant. After his obligatory posturing, the ringleader turns to face you with an infuriating smirk.

"That's great, kid. So, do you want a contract, or you just practicin your sales pitch?"

There's the hoof rests: a two-by-four board with two thin cushions on it. The whole thing is glued to the ground, and that's about all you got. Plus there's an interesting selection of scratch mark art on the walls but whatever.

"What's a monkey?"

This is the only part of your statement that Velvet takes any notable objection to. That's not to imply it's the only objectionable thing in the room, mind you--that would be the huge veiny-necked stallion with the undisguised interest in her who's currently approaching her. However, at the moment he's just checking her out--nothing more objectionable seems like it's about to transpire.
>> No. 40755795
File 142163058091.png - (70.50KB , 777x1028 , I'm not so sure about that___.png )
Looking around, Swiftwing's eyes rest on the two-by-four hoof rests... That's something that could be swung! Even if there wasn't a sharp axe head on the end... But did he really want to give Umi a weapon right now..? Plus, what if a guard came by to see that the hoofrest was down, they might either reattach it, or question where it went. He turned his head to look up at Umi
>> No. 40755829
File 142163160285.jpg - (17.45KB , 640x360 , Ghost_in_the_Shell_SAC_Saito_Hawkeye.jpg )
The stallion's almost cocky grin turned into a frown. It was obvious that he wasn't amused by the game they were trying to play on him. Even so he didn't seem angry. Although he had quick thoughts about making a mess all over the place they were standing and the mares they held onto running away screaming, he wasn't necessarily angry. He knew they had something he wanted. They were an ally- and Amos could never be openly upset with an ally. But his patience was growing thinner and the way the stallions were acting were beginning to turn this into a gamble between them and himself. That is the way he saw this.

"I would like a contract, yes," he said with an eyebrow raised.
>> No. 40755871
File 142163315122.png - (369.58KB , 520x350 , Grin.png )
The big red drake sits up before busting out laughing and grinning at her. "Impressive. So how'd they catch you?"

He tilts his head to the side. "And which was the main gig and which was the side, anyway? The tattooing, or the grand theft?"
>> No. 40755943
File 142163686637.png - (576.89KB , 1345x1345 , Another pic.png )
Umi seemed to ignore the smaller stallion, continuing his slow, steady pacing. He might seem quite like a caged animal, eyes on the area outside of their cell. Back and forth, and back and forth he went. The oversized pegasus probably knew the exact dimension of the cell by now, in hoofsteps. He had seen the hoof rests, but using them as a weapon had not yet crossed his mind. Though, in a heartbeat, he would take the sturdy chunk of lumber to one of the guards, or inmates.
>> No. 40756019
File 142163914744.png - (95.27KB , 880x907 , Wait what.png )
Swiftwing seemed fine and well to let Umi have the time to himself, really not wanting to bother him... but at the same time the silence of the room and the solitary setting was beginning to get to the smaller stallion. He couldn't go off without either talking or being talked too, the rushing sound of the water on the wall startign to get to his head, he probably stayed quiet another hour before speaking up. "How's the leg feeling?"
>> No. 40756267
File 142164778267.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
Umi paused his walking, looking to Swiftwing. He remained silent, for a moment, before speaking. "It's healing. Next time, I won't have to cower." And with that, his pacing continued. He had been at it for an hour now, and showed no signs of letting up. The soft 'clip clop' of his hooves on the floor softly echoed in their cell. It was dull, it was slightly annoying, but it was keeping the pegasus in his right mind, for now.
>> No. 40756273
File 142164805626.png - (772.50KB , 4106x4000 , ima zap u.png )
Keeping his gaze over to Umi, Swiftwing nodded along with the faintest of smiles. "That's.. good to hear." He replied simply enough, exhaling softly as the stallion was pacing to himself, and let him be once more. Swiftwing finished his stretches and light strengths of his own such as gentle squats and small push ups, nothing too strenuous but he could feel himself starting to heal up, deciding not to share the possibility of the hoof rest as use of a weapon.. at least not until Umi would be in a bit better of a mood, at least is what Swiftwing hoped for.
>> No. 40756684
File 142170091363.jpg - (8.34KB , 259x194 , Time is money.jpg )

"A good plan? It is a start, but I would not call it a plan." She says, casually. Taking her time with her meal as she flashes a curious look to the other ponies in the room. Another sigh, and a spoon full of soup later, and she was talking again. "All of this is just recon. Actually planning this out will come later, once we know a little more about what we are dealing with."

She made a move to finish the wine that was in there. Savoring again the flavor the drink, though her eyes remained firm upon the scarred visage of the broken zebra. "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? Has to do with the thing I wanted to ask you..." She studied his reaction closely. Leaning her head forward a bit as she took another bite of her meal. She seemed in good enough spirits. The food and drink did help. Instead of furiously seething, she was grudgingly frustrated inside, and that was a significant improvement.
>> No. 40756815
File 142170801912.png - (1.26MB , 1181x1653 , 1421294725456.png )
He acknowledged her point with little more than a grunt and a sharp flick of the eyes in her general direction. She was right -- plan was overstating it a bit. The wine returned to his lips. It was the best part of the meal, he decided. His eyes lingered on her as she drank, unwittingly meeting her frigid stare. His eyebrow shot up in mild surprise as she addressed him again. He hadn't expected her to bring that up so soon.

Setting the glass down again, he paused just long enough to try another spoonful of the soup, thinking it over. She didn't seem threatening, but Frost could seem like anything she wanted to. His thoughtful glare shifted to the door, then back to her. He nodded shortly.

"'Course," Farasi said, lifting a hoof in a vaguely inviting waggle, though his voice was ambivalent, tinged with curiosity. "Ask away. I ain't going anywhere."
>> No. 40756856
File 142171129142.png - (77.69KB , 335x251 , Go away.png )

Get out of here and go to the zoo, then you can find out for yourself.

>Carnage commented idly, her gaze wandering over the shower scene to see if anyone would be making a move on the new arrivals. Though, thankfully, it seemed like nobody was making a move except for the big ol' veiny necked stallion and even her wasn't doing anything reprehensible so far (though that didn't mean she'd be getting away from the wall anytime soon). If things could hold out like this for 13 more minutes then the two of them might actually get out of here unmolested.

>And so, as she kept an eye out for Velvet, Carnage started to mind herself for a fight even if she wasn't sure how well she could handle a scuffle of any kind with her banged up her legs were. For now, all she could do was hold out hope that the other prisoners would mind themselves and leave the both of them alone.
>> No. 40756865
File 142171187798.jpg - (280.17KB , 1920x1080 , Bill lumbergh.jpg )

"Great. Now if I could just borrow you for a second here..." Pulling herself from the table, she nodded her head in the direction of the hallway. Already walking herself. "Won't take longer than a few minutes."
>> No. 40756883
File 142171513713.png - (259.64KB , 517x729 , 1421378380175.png )
Farasi contemplated the amount left in the glass. After a second, he decided that he definitely could chug at least most of it, and proceeded to take one last drink before rising to follow Frost. He gave his coat a good brush, as if to smooth it out, despite the fact that wrinkles were the least of his worries if he actually cared about presentability. His eyes bored into Frost's head as he trotted after her. His good one had widened somewhat with intense expectation.

"Great. Lookin' forward to it," he said, in a voice that did not sound like he relished the prospect. However, despite his paranoia, he couldn't help but be intrigued.
>> No. 40756923
"Great. Good to hear."

The Contract Broker takes one of his forelegs off his trophies, and makes a show of pulling up his hoof-mounted computer. It's a fancy sort of thing--the kind you can only buy in Uptown or New Baabylon, and only then for an arm and a leg. It's got a chrome finish and a hard-light interface, and with a 30-centimeter foldout screen with an LCD display. The Pear logo is emblazoned on the back in bright green permaneon; and beneath that in a burnished gold shade, lies the word "PLAYA" in a ridiculously overdone cursive font. You can't get something like that for less than a few dozen grand--no wonder he's proud of it.

"Alright. What kinda work are you lookin for, then?"

"The usual way."

She yawns and stretches her talons now--she interlocks them and twists her wrists, to rapidly push them through a wide range of motion.

Fortunately, your knack for hiding yourself holds up, even in here. Given that you're bright orange and all, you had to work extra hard to keep concealed in the wastes--and the same principles basically apply here. Wait in the corner, move as little as possible, ass to the wall, don't look appetizing. In this way, time passes, uneventfully...
>> No. 40756931
File 142171935582.gif - (81.90KB , 60x56 , Firebat_SC1_HeadAnim1.gif )
"Fair enough... So, if you've got a skill you can use in here like that, I'd imagine you know at least a little about who's who in here? There's maybe a couple friends of mine who'd be in here."

He leans back against the wall and rolls his neck as he shrugs his shoulders experimentally. "And maybe a couple others who'd be willing to help me out, too. You ever heard of a dragon who goes by Icefang?"
>> No. 40757006
File 142172384484.jpg - (480.04KB , 1304x1304 , blue_stallion_commish_by_annasko-d5lyq37.jpg )
The stallion, perhaps by luck, or maybe by simple observation, walked over to the hoofrest. Lifting a hoof, he gave it a solid 'thump' against the wood. A small, cruel smile formed on his muzzle, as he felt it. Excellent. Looking to Andrew, Umi gave a slight nod. "We can use this..." He gave it another thud, feeling the weak glue give, slightly, before nodding. He seemed to have brightened up, slightly, at the prospect of being armed.
>> No. 40757053
File 142172670950.jpg - (138.42KB , 680x1069 , tumblr_mvlk65LbGz1sga2k5o1_1280.jpg )
He raised an eyebrow, looking at the fancy computer that's mounted on his leg. There is absolutely no telling how much that would have cost to Amos.

"Huh, well, I was actually looking into starting my own business. I'd need someone who can help me with contacts and "real estate" in the GenMu. You think you could help me with that?" he asked with a frown.

At least he wasn't as angry as he was, seeing progress in this conversation.
>> No. 40757150
"Not gonna lie, scales. Y'all's names confuse me something fierce. Yer always "shield" so and so "rock" this, "Fire" that...startin to think that if I heard one of ya's, I heard em all."

She says this with the sort of callous and indifferent racism that comes from a life of it, coupled with a harsh and telling dearth of formal education. Rather unsurprisingly, Mordred Jay has a bit of Southern pride--her kind always do. It seems there's no ill will behind it, though: for a moment later, as she digests her own words, she coughs into a talon and looks away with a snort.

"...What I mean to say, pardon me, is that it don't ring a bell. But I know there's some guys in the showers in with some dragon branch of the Giac's. They'll be the ones you wanna talk to."

"Hm. Yeah, actually. Get a few walk-ins looking for a crew head every day. What kind of "real estate" are you lookin to...acquire?"

He says this with a knowing smirk, as he quickly swipes through the various tabs and lists on his computer. Contacts, addresses, names, birthdays--there's half a district in his hooves, and he's offering it all up to you.

"You lookin for farm land, or something more of a...laboratory space?"
>> No. 40757161
A small grin could be seen on his face- if not for the guy looking through his computer. With a light chuckle he straightened himself, getting a few glances at what the guy was looking up.

"Oh yes, yes indeed. Lab space would be perfect for what I'm starting. Hmm, may also need some ponies who know a thing or two about drugs to keep the whole lab from exploding. and there's certainly no profit in that..."

He coughed a little in the other direction.

"You think you could help?" he asked, almost 100% sure what he was already going to say.
>> No. 40757163
File 142173365441.png - (83.43KB , 855x935 , I have too much awesome.png )
Perhaps for sheer, expecting the worst, petty fear, Swiftwing's smile was a bit nervous as he watched the smile cover Umi's face, not quite sure what's he's thinking- no, wait, why would he ever..? Swiftwing quickly dispelled the thought of being attacked by Umi and nearly beat himself up for thinking poorly of his friend in the first place. Instead, Swiftwing formed another grin and stood back up slowly. "May not be an axe, but you can sure as hell swing it, cant ya~?"
>> No. 40757197
"Yeah, I know watcha mean. Thanks, at least it's somewhere to start." As long as he's careful about identifying himself, anyway. He didn't know who Icefang worked for, and these gangsters could just as easily be working for bitter rivals.

"In the showers, you said? Guess I could use one, anyway. They just a bunch of dragons together, or is there maybe one I should be looking out for?"
>> No. 40757223
"Definitely. I have...quite a few places looking for an occupant, and a few cooks looking for some muscle. You can take ya pick--after a small finder's fee, of course."

The contract broker's smirk turns into a full-blown grin now, as he leafs through the tabs with remarkable alacrity. His eyes dance with glee at the impending sale, and in no time at all he's reading off a list of descriptions--but not addresses, never addresses.

"Got an apartment on the block in Downtown, real nice, ground floor, has a basement; got one in the Foundation, four rooms, gives you some living space; got one next to the roadwall--terrible noise, bit of a drive, but really quite the place...looking for any specific neighborhoods?"

"Look for the one what looks in charge. Ya'lls crests kinda make my head spin. Couldn't tell you which one was the boss if ya put a gun to my head."
>> No. 40757232
File 142173965586.jpg - (133.67KB , 640x640 , tumblr_nhpsp3AVue1qzs8a9o1_1280.jpg )
"How much we lookin' at? The apartment will do just nicely as long as it doesn't reign suspicion over what we're doing. I may have to find an investor or take out a loan to get it, though. You know how it is."

That's what he hoped anyways. Even so, he was still rather impressed that he managed to secure a lot of this info for him. It was now that Amos realized that what he wanted was starting to come into play, but now the smaller details he's been prepared to deal with are becoming to him. It was only how the contract broker's outlooks and opinions that would take his plans further, whether for better or worse.
>> No. 40757979
File 142182893740.jpg - (480.04KB , 1304x1304 , blue_stallion_commish_by_annasko-d5lyq37.jpg )
The stallion shushed him, quietly. " need to let anypony else know...that would spoil the surprise." He turned his gaze to Andrew, a knowing smile on his muzzle. "Now we wait...And we bide our time." The prospect of having an actual weapon seemed to have brightened him up, slightly. It wasn't much, but enough to make him less aggressive, for now.
>> No. 40758176
"Eheh ^^. Great point." Swiftwing nodded and smiled, quickly quieting up, while his smile brightened quite a bit, and seemed to soften up just the same. There was a bit more pep in his stretch, almost as if he was excited for the simple possibility of a great plan... but of course, why not? They were probably just another step closer to their escape
>> No. 40758205
File 142187269725.png - (1.44MB , 1600x901 , vlcsnap-2013-08-03-09h26m37s251.png )
She led him down into what looked to be an office, modified with some gym equipment to help satisfy part of her lover's need for physical exercise. It was a modest office. A cheap book case on the side, a personal computer on the desk, but if anything could be said at the very least it was orderly. She took special care in that. Not bothering to sit down she pulled the very out of place zebra next to a rolled up gym mat out in the corner. Looking over his shoulder, to see if anyone was following, if only to satisfy her own paranoid urges before returning her focus to him.

"Alright, so here is the deal...I am going to make this request of you because, out of everyone we have here now, you stand the best chance of getting some answers. This is kind of unorthodox you see..." Firm but quiet, perhaps she did not want him in her office any longer than need be out of fear he might steal something. Or maybe it was something else. She was not in the mood for introspection just yet, either way.

"When I spoke with my dad way back when, he let me in on a few secrets. Stuff I have been looking into on my own time at a snails pace but now? Now I think I have reason to speed the process along ever so slightly. Tell me, did you remember anything about the Wintersoldier raid that seemed odd? Well, besides all the other weird stuff and getting your face torn off." Almost as if anticipating potential hurt feelings she gave a tap to her arm real fast. Letting her hoof clank down on the cold metal with an audible ping. "And yes, I kind of know the feeling, so not like I could have noticed either. Maybe we can write a fucking book about it later or something but the point is...did Sam or the others ever tell you of their experience?"

"Like how they kind of just knew the layout of certain places?"
>> No. 40758288
File 142188045288.gif - (1.93MB , 500x281 , 1417724287201.gif )
Frost was going to murder him. That thought had been rattling around in the back of his head since he'd gotten up, but when she glanced behind them for wandering eyes, he could feel he hairs on his neck stand up, his ears rise to attention, his good pupil dilate sharply with a rush of blood in his chest, and for a moment he was forced to stare at her through that awful half-tunnel vision that made his head ache. His hackles raised for a moment, but then she began talking.

He was left disappointed, and stared at her in bemused surprise, posture tense and awaiting something significantly worse than just a rather weird conversation. He turned his head to one side, blinking owlishly. Frost had his full attention; even if he had a use for something in the office, he was too intrigued to contemplate nicking more than the most immediately-visible expensive objects. He pursed his lips in careful, if significantly weirded-out, thought.

"... No," Farasi shook his head softly, his gaze never breaking. "They, uh... didn't say anything 'bout that. Far as I knew, they were goin' in there blind."

"Why? Y'think they... knew the place ahead of time? Like they'd been there before?" He sounded initially merely dubious and confused, but his voice heightened in pitch with a sudden flash of deep, irrational suspicion.
>> No. 40758317
File 142188203752.jpg - (8.69KB , 186x271 , Kira.jpg )

"I have been thinking a lot about what he said...and from the story I heard. It makes...a little bit of sense." She did no seem so sure, but she had little desire to hide that fact. This was an unusual request and uncertain avenue for both of them. Attempting to sell the idea as anything less than ludicrous was simply not an option. Still, It would not be the first time the ludicrous turned into stone cold reality. She furrowed her brow and frowned a very contemplative frown, all while keeping a close and watchful eye upon him.

"It won't be the first time we stumble onto something strange. Guess it just kind of...runs in the family." She offered little else beyond that. In fact, she moved on almost immediately after. Almost as if she was not very keen on speaking of something that was quite personal to her. "But speaking of family. I admit, I don't know a thing about magic. Never really cared up until now. But still...its kind of odd, don' you think? I mean, the place was a fortress and they just kind of...knew where to go. Seemed even stranger that everywhere they knew to go, I happened to be there as well...

She lifted her head up. Still sounding quite unsure but not knowing how else to communicate the fact. He seemed weirded out himself. A shame she could not offer more to help with that. "Listen. I don't know what is up. There is a lot that I don't understand and I am trying to get the answers but...well, we don't have a lot of time and we need all the help we can get. I do at least know where we can start looking..."

"And that is why I need you."
>> No. 40758500
File 142189913843.gif - (1.95MB , 500x281 , 1420935133055.gif )
Farasi's good eye twitched spastically as he listened to what was looking more and more like some kind of nervous breakdown. Eventually, the twitching resolved into a suspicious narrowing that contrasted with his bad eye's perpetual wideness. He leaned back, his ears jolting as he tried to make sense of this. Apparently it had to do with magic. And that group knowing things. So, some manner of magical information transfer. At least, he was pretty sure. She was moving really fast.

He emphatically shook his head at her final declaration, holding up a hoof as if calling for a pause.

"Woahwoahwoah. Slow down. What exactly are we gonna be looking for?" He asked, his hoof waggling. It dropped back to the ground as his lip curled back, the great cleft flaring out in a display of yellow teeth, some of which were currently undergoing a critical existence failure. "Y'think some kinda magic told Sam'n the rest of 'em where to go? That-- that's a bit-- well, I've seen some odd shit, but... I'd 'preciate not bein' sent chasin' after shadows."
>> No. 40758516
File 142190053448.png - (151.92KB , 1000x1000 , whargble.png )
Alright, so the last job could have gone better.

It could have gone a lot worse, nobody died, at least? Nobody that they probably weren't going to kill, at any rate, even if the methods of disposal were... unorthodox, at best.

Lunacy tried not to think about it as he chugged down another mug of cheap beer. With all these robot parts in him he had no clue if he could still actually get inebriated, but it was distracting enough that it didn't really matter. So things didn't go to plan! That sorta stuff happened, and the job was a success, even more so than the one before!

Putting his glass down, Lunacy scans the crowds that made up Lucius tonight. It was always a great place to be, after jobs - overconfident newbies always liked to brag about their latest jobs, and hey, some of them actually had some pretty good stories.
>> No. 40758531

Overconfident newbies and more besides. It didn't take much for any Operator worth their salt to see a job in progress; from the look of things at a stage not too far away from where he was sitting, it looked like things could go poorly at any moment. There was a small crowd of stallions around one of the girl's stages, as per usual, though two in particular stood out, both of them unicorns: One looked as if he was watching everything but the show in front of him, his anxiety so transparent it was a miracle he wasn't dabbing sweat off his brow at that very second. The other, however, was a professional at work and no mistake. His attention seemed to be fixed on the pretty young mare and the beer in his hoof, but that's not what he was there for. He analyzed his target, for the other pony could be nothing else, with cold grey eyes, his icy stare only flicking to him briefly before returning his attention to the provided entertainment. He was watching him. Calculating.

>> No. 40758540
File 142190179610.png - (170.85KB , 1000x1049 , You'll fit nicely in the airlock.png )
Lunacy grins. Now this was about to be something worth seeing. Either someone with more guns than brains was about to learn not to start a fight in Club Lucius - a lesson that took a couple of beatings to get into him, but oh well, who didn't it?

... Lunacy took a moment to thank himself for not actually asking anyone else that question lest someone actually answer with 'no'.

Lunacy stands on up and trots on over to the mare and her pole, keeping an eye on these two gentlecolts as he goes. Maybe this time he won't stick out like a sore, overwhelmingly blue robot hoof. Hopefully.
>> No. 40758547
File 142190268015.jpg - (57.92KB , 720x480 , Getter Robo Armageddon - 02 (DVD 480p) (Anon) (NakamaSub)_mkv_snapshot_02_00_[2015_01_21_22_39_3.jpg )

Maybe it was fate working her fickle ways again, or maybe it was just the fact there didn't seem to be any readily available seats besides one of the ones next to the stallion that was on the hunt. He would find himself within easy speaking distance of the light-tan unicorn either way, the long bangs and overall shagginess of his near pitch-black mane doing little to hide the piercing gaze of his light-grey eyes, light-grey eyes that flicked over to regard this new arrival as he saw the blue pegasus moving out of the corner of his perception. He regarded him briefly, as if trying to determine whether this was a friend of his target's or no; eventually, he seemed to conclude 'no' and thus returned to his stakeout.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The seconds ticked by, the bass thrum of the music keeping its own time as the mare on stage bounced her hips to it.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Another sip of beer as the stallion across the way actually did reach up to wipe some sweat off, something keeping him from being able to relax.


"Paranoia does fascinating things to a pony, doesn't it?" The unicorn probably wasn't speaking to the dancer, and he definitely wasn't striking up conversation with the schizophrenic he was keeping such a close eye on, and through process of elimination, that left... Lunacy. "Even when you think you're in the clear, doubt can wreak untold havoc on you. Every niggle, every 'what if' scenario... it builds and builds and builds, until you're seeing an invisible pair of eyes in every shadow, convinced that every ear is listening to your every word." Another sip. "It must be excruciating," he mused, the dancer's hips and the club's lights softly reflected in his cold, yet oddly expressive eyes.
>> No. 40758555
File 142190333078.png - (194.86KB , 1000x1000 , Why yes, I DO want to start my free trial of AOL.png )
What a coincidence. It was hard not to believe in fate after what he's been through, but that would mean accepting he wasn't the master of his own destiny and we just can't have that, could we? Still. This unicorn was talking to him now - this just got better and better!

"I try not to bother with it for reasons that... well, you've just about elaborated on them right there." he says with a chuckle, grin plastered on his face - as the unicorn would soon learn is basically always there. "But, I mean, it's got it's uses. Might've stopped me from getting thrown off that bridge that one time, but... ah."

Lunacy fell silent after getting the feeling that maybe he shouldn't be talking about things like that with a total stranger, but this guy seemed odd. Different. Professional, definitely, so that was a good start. He gazes up towards the showmare, smiling wildly. A show everyone could learn to appreciate... or, at least, anyone who would hang out in this sorta bar. Unless they had ulterior motives... or something.

"Enjoying the show?"
>> No. 40758574

"Of course," the unicorn replied with a half-cocked smile. "Any red-blooded stallion would. Though I'm sure you've figured out that's not why I'm here." For the first time since Lunacy had arrived, the other party looked over at them; the unicorn sitting next to him saw his chance, and he took it. His stare immediately darted forward to lock eyes with his opponent, icy expression unflinching as he continued nursing his cold beer. "I'm here to feed the fear that's been gnawing at that wretch's heart," he continued; Lunacy could hear him over the music and background white noise of the club, though it was practically guaranteed there was no way the third stallion would be able to make it out. "A coward who preys on mares. The boys in blue have been looking for him for months." He answered the question hanging in the air before it even had to b asked, pausing for a bit afterwards. "A pity. If they had asked me for my help sooner I could have had him in bars before he'd found his second victim." Another pause as the target took the bait; his paranoia was triggered by the unicorn's unflinching eye contact, standing up and beginning to walk over to the other side of the stage to confront his supposed hunter... and still those cold grey eyes followed him. Still he addressed Lunacy as if the criminal wasn't even worth his full attention. "Are you going to attempt to stop me? Or would you prefer to see justice done?"
>> No. 40758590
File 142190543835.png - (170.85KB , 1000x1049 , You'll fit nicely in the airlock.png )
"Huh..." he trails off, leaning back in the seat as he watched this poor stallion. Tonight wasn't going to end well for him, that's for sure.

It was interesting, seeing someone worse than you were. Well, at least Lunacy was doing what he did for the right reasons, though, of course? Sure, many others didn't seem to think so - and his methods sure as shit brought him against the police more often tha- well, actually every single time, but still, what can you do in a world like this?

"I'd be right pissed if someone came along and tried to ruin my payday, so y'know I'd like to think I'm not the kind of pony to do that." he responds, chuckling to himself. "Do what needs to be done. I'm sure it'll be a good show."
>> No. 40758613
File 142190685448.png - (520.42KB , 2357x2880 , All my want.png )
Out in the middle of the slums. Well. Not really out randomly. This brown colt was sitting infront of a taco stand on the street late at night. Sitting on the curb as he munches a taco he had bought from the stand. He didn't really look all that happy eating though. Almost seemed as he was contemplating life as he chewed away, staring up into the street light across the street.
>> No. 40758625
"Can I have some?"

A familiar female voice called from nearby. Evidently, from not so far away, Doc had managed to find Dom munching away not-so-happily all on his lonesome. Although her greetings would typically be more cheerful, polite, or otherwise positive, her recent diet of gruel and absolutely nothing else was starting to get to her stomach and her head.

She trots up alongside Dom at a leisurely pace, offering him a light smile. Although she winces a bit at the look on his face, her mood doesn't falter. Although said mood is noticeably fake, it still has a hint of hope. As to why or how this is possible in Canterlot, God only knows.
>> No. 40758626
File 142190784172.jpg - (1.52MB , 2100x1650 , And not able to threesome.jpg )

Dom gave a small jump, spinning around on his flank to turn to the nose before blinking a few times, tilting his head and then looking down at his tacos

"Oh um...yeah..sure...No problem."

Dom turned to hold the plate out to his team mate, his look softening a bit
>> No. 40758627
"Oh! Oh, sorry, Dom! I didn't mean to scare you!"

She sheepishly smiles, hoping she didn't anger or bother Dom too much. After a hesitated chuckle and a scratch on the back of her neck, she looks down at the plate and grabs it.

"Sorry. I just saw you, and I smelled tacos. And I'm really hungry. I haven't been eating much."

She slowly sits down near Dom on the curb, and after a moment, grabs one of the greasy tacos. She briefly reconsiders eating this, due to how undeniably unhealthy it is, but after her stomach growls, she shrugs it off and takes a bite.
>> No. 40758628
File 142190875448.png - (1.09MB , 800x900 , An old war horse.png )
"Eh, don't worry about it...I'm usually on edge and was thinking deeply..." He looked at her for a moment, then leaned back, staring up at the lamp as he listens to how she said she hasn't ate much.

"Didn't ya get paid for the last job we were on? I got enough now where I don't have to worry about getting kicked out buuut...still want to hurt Lunacy."
>> No. 40758629

"Then it's fortunate the police usually don't bother looking up what I do on my nights off; one of the many benefits of being a self-made freelancer," he replied... right before almost getting shoved out of his seat by the interloper.

"Th'fuck's your problem?" the third stallion slurred drunkenly, his need for confrontation to release the fear in his heart a visible fire in his eyes as he stood toe-to-toe with Lunacy's new friend... a need that wasn't immediately answered. His answer was that same damnable icy stare, analyzing him, watching his every move... seeing into his black heart. The slasher scowled. "Say something, damn you!"

The next few seconds telescoped into infinity and passed in a heartbeat, all at once.

The schizophrenic swung a heavy right hook, a ponderous blow that the investigator easily dodged. His scowl deepened, he drunkenly swung another blow, this one dodged just as easily. The bouncers were nowhere in sight yet, and it looked like the much burlier stallion would be able to put down his enemy if he managed to land just one meaty punch...

But then he decided to add magic to the fray. An aura of magic sparked up around his horn, lighting his sallow cheeks with a harsh and angular light as he prepared to fire off a spell to put the other unicorn down... and then it fizzled into nothing.

The look of shock on his face was all the hesitation Whisper needed.




Three blows. Three blows, and the serial killer was on the floor with a broken nose and jaw as he wheezed pitifully from a stricken airpipe. The victor looked impassively down at his vanquished foe before glancing up at the club's enforcers as they finally arrived. "See what you can do with this one," he said coolly before anyone could ask what had happened. "I'm sure there's at least one available dispatch you can contact swiftly; find this pony's contact information and address. Get a warrant to search his home; unless I miss my guess, they'll find more than enough evidence to prove they've finally located the stallion calling himself Knivesblood."
>> No. 40758630
With a loud crunch, the chomps off a good part of the taco, chews, and swallows. She holds the plate back out to Dom.

"Mmm. I understand. I'm usually on edge too. And you looked like you were thinking, too. I guess I shouldn't have snuck up on you like I did. Whoops." She tries to laugh a little at the situation, but it's half-hearted.

After a shrug, she continues. "But, did I get paid? I did, just as much as you did, but I have to save up. Oh, and after what I've seen, I can understand wanting to kick Lunacy. He still owes you six figures, doesn't he?"

Last edited at Wed, Jan 21st, 2015 23:48

>> No. 40758631
File 142190944751.png - (170.85KB , 1000x1049 , You'll fit nicely in the airlock.png )
Lunacy sits back on his chair - he had absolutely no need to get involved. He had came for a show, and it looked like that's what he was going to get. And what a show it ended up being. He had... some sort of deal with the security here, maybe he got on someone's good side. Oh well, not fantastically uncommon. What was, however, was the curious effect the killer's magic seemed to have - or rather, didn't. What were the chances he had a little bit of stage fright at something like this and just failed to perform.

Certainly not likely. If the stallion decided to come back - which Lunacy sincerely hoped he did, he'd ha many words for him.

"... So, what the hell kind of a name is 'Knivesblood', anyway? Who's he trying to impress?" he says with a snicker, before shaking his head. "Ah, doesn't much matter anymore, I suppose. So, freelancer, huh? Looking for work?"
>> No. 40758639

"The newspapers took up calling him that, and he ran with it," the unicorn replied as he returned to his beer and his favored dancer. "He was a former miner who specialized in finding mineral deposits; at some point, he lost his job and the stress drove him mad. He began stalking mares and manipulating the iron in their blood in fatal ways." Another pause, another sip. "I'm sure the name 'Knivesblood' allows you to imagine what kind of manipulation." He looked back over at Lunacy; the chill in his expression was gone, replaced now by a curious neutrality. "Depends on the work. Spending my days as a private investigator leaves my night life schedule... fairly open." And from the way he had brought down Knivesblood, his night life had involved more than a few fights in the past.
>> No. 40758641
File 142190981933.png - (308.86KB , 900x1185 , Derp.png )
"About 80 if I remember right..."

He said aloud looking back at the street lamp with a little sigh, taking teh plate back and shaking his head as he crumples it up and tosses it into a trash can near by

"Ya know. I'm all for saving, but when it comes to food I think it doesn't have to be that bad..."
>> No. 40758651
"That's still a lot. I don't know if I've ever had that much in my life, honestly."

She watches as the crumpled up plate soars, and she sighs with him. "Well, typically, I don't eat a lot, so that's a plus. The thing is, I've been stuck on a really skimpy diet lately, since I have yet to buy everything I need. As soon as I get everything, I hope to go back to a more reasonable meal plan."
>> No. 40758652
File 142191066854.png - (143.15KB , 900x1286 , This doesn't even look like Dom but it's still AWESOME.png )
"oooh? Been trying to watch your figure? looks good enough for me~"

He decided to lay out that little flirt, shaking his head as he leans back and nods

"Yeah...I didn't have nearly the amount I had now...use to buy so much things that I would never havve..." He shook his head once more "Food was one of them...and I don't think buying a bit more would effect you that much..I could offer you a bit more too if you need it...
>> No. 40758653
File 142191070818.png - (150.38KB , 1000x1458 , what.png )
Lunacy blinks.

"Oh, wow, that's... kinda sad and very brutal. Damn." he says, hopping on up from his chair. "And yeah, I got plenty. Running a little group that has... semi-regular work. Stickin' it to the man, blah blah blah whatever. You know, the usual M.O. of operators."

"You heard of a guy named Firejack? Arms dealer. Came into play back after the Night of Fire. Got some big credits on his head, so we're going after him. We're chasing up some leads, soon. You want in?"
>> No. 40758662
At that remark, Doc just jabs her hoof into Dom's side. She probably tried to hurt him a little, but, then again, she isn't really known for her strength.

"Stop it, you," she says, shaking her head and chuckling. "But, no, my figure is fine. It's just that I'm trying to save money, since I need it."

"I actually need surprisingly less money, now that Lee's gone, but..." After a pause, she just sighs, and shakes her head. "Nevermind. He'll come back. He probably just had to go home or something. Maybe he forgot his phone before so he couldn't call me."

"But, the offer? I hate to be a leech, but I might want to take you up on that for a week or two. I can probably get what I need soon here. Then I'll actually be able to do my job well around here. Have to spend money to make money, after all."
>> No. 40758668

"Firejack..." The unicorn nodded slowly. "I'd heard rumors among my usual contacts in the undercity, but I hadn't bothered looking for anything concrete. The Night of Fire... lots of people want lots of Discordians dead or in jail. What's one more?" He glanced back over at Lunacy, one brow quirked ever slightly. "Who's after him, and what's the bounty?"
>> No. 40758670
File 142191142498.png - (520.42KB , 2357x2880 , All my want.png )
"Yeah it's fine~"

He chuckled as she tried jabbed him, shaking his head and letting her do so though beforehis smile flickers a bit as she mentions her son. He shakes his head though seeing as how she's taking it lightly, probably not something to worry to much about.

"Mmmhmm...I'm sure he's for that spending money to make it. It would be the same with food. Got the credits at the house ."
>> No. 40758686
File 142191201453.png - (173.45KB , 1000x1000 , This many!.png )
"Eighty thousand credits. Per pony. So far I can tell you it's not going to be quick or easy dosh, but it's well worth it. This guy's an asshole. Selling weapons to basically everyone - highly illegal shit, too. Banned under Wasteland accord. He's wanted by a guy named Crow for reasons he's not disclosing because whatever, but this is through the IBA, so we're good for the money. If we succeed."

"So, y'know, I say we do a little digging, find out where he's hiding, give him a good pop in the head, do a good deed, and collect a nice little pay to boot."
>> No. 40758694
File 142191244865.jpg - (54.82KB , 720x480 , Getter Robo Armageddon - 09 (DVD 480p) (Anon) (NakamaSub)_mkv_snapshot_10_50_[2015_01_22_01_40_0.jpg )

The Wasteland Accord... that got his attention. Well, it was either that or the eighty thousand credits. Fella could buy a lot of lap dances with that. He nodded, setting down his empty mug before fishing out a tip for the night's entertainment and tossing it betwixt her petite legs. "That must be what has all the rumors flying," he murmured to one in particular. "Anyone with the balls to sell weapons like those and go this long without getting caught? Not someone the average Operator is likely to mess with." He took another look at Lunacy's heavily modified frame. "Fortunately, it looks as if we're dealing with anything but the average Operator." He offered his hoof to the blue pegasus. "You can call me Whisper."
>> No. 40758695
File 142191288950.png - (194.86KB , 1000x1000 , Why yes, I DO want to start my free trial of AOL.png )
Lunacy chuckles, reaching out and giving Whisper's hoof a firm shake - Whisper could tell, it was doubtful there was anything organic left in that leg, at least.

"Yeah, that fucker's going down, and you can help! My name's Lunacy. You... might have seen me on the news."
>> No. 40758696
"Thank you so much, Dom. This'll help. I'll be sure to save the anesthetics for you, should the time come. Even though you probably need them the least out of anyone."

She chuckles again, leaning back and looking up at the lamp post that Dom found so intriguing. "It's at your place? well, to be honest, I'm in no rush to get back, but I guess I wasn't doing much out here anyway besides wandering and looking."
>> No. 40758697

"I recognized you the instant you sat next to me," Whisper replied, his second half-smirk of the night finally making its appearance. "Though, with the jobs you usually pull off... to be frank, I was expecting at least... Let's see. 13, 14% more cybernetics? My punishment for relying solely on the newsfeed for information on you, I suppose."
>> No. 40758698
"Pff, me? I'd probably need them the most. I get hurt a lot..."

Dom nodded once more, taking his eyes of the lamp finally as he turns to look at the mare, deciding that was a better sight

"Mmmhmm. And we don't have to leave now. Probably could get you another meal if you'd like."
>> No. 40758699
"Oh, trust me, I've noticed you get hurt. But at least you can take a beating, unlike a few of us. I heard something about you recovering from an explosive shotgun once?"

She giggles a little, looking back at Dom. "Another meal? ...I am kind of hungry, but I don't think I need to eat anything else. Besides, is there anything around here that isn't a greasy taco stand or a fatty burger joint? Anything with even a little semblance of health? I'm sorry, but you're kind of right; I don't want to get fat. Besides, I just have a 'thing' with dieting after medical school. Doing a triple bypass for an unfortunate soul didn't help my stance much either."
>> No. 40758701
File 142191533682.png - (31.36KB , 419x564 , salsa.png )
Salsa left his flat to go to a local bar. It wasn't the one he worked but a different one. He hated that place mainly due to customers. Some were great but others were just terrible and always tried to pick a fight with other customers or with Salsa. Last night, Salsa beat a guy into a pulp when he tried to fight Salsa. "I need a to get back to my old line of work" he muttered under his breath. "Controlling myself was hard that time." He shook his head a little and continued on his way.

When Salsa entered the bar. He sat the bar area and waved for the bartender to come and serve him. "Hard Cider, frosted glass, tall," Salsa said to the tender. The bartender nodded and gave him his drink. Salsa started to drink brooding over the week he had. He ground his teeth a little thinking about and letting the other patrons voices drown out.
>> No. 40758753
File 142195024627.png - (178.28KB , 375x360 , alcohol.png )
Dom moved his head to look downward and gives an awkward chuckle as she talks about his weapon exploding

"You mean recently or the times before..."

Dom turned his head to give a few nods "Yeah...sounds like a good reason to prefer greens over this...amazing...and tasty..." He quickly shakes his head back and forth "Right, if you still want something we could probably find something on the way to my house." Dom stretched his forelegs over his shoulders for a moment before standing up from the curb
>> No. 40759427
So they were going straight to Dom's house after food. He sounded a tad insisting, but she passed it off as Dom being Dom and nothing more.

After chuckling at his clear addiction to greasy food, she stands up and smiles. "If you want to go eat again, then I guess I won't object. Lead the way, Dom. You know your way around this city better than I do, and I don't remember where your room is."

"Oh, and the shotgun incident? I heard something from one of your old teammates. He said you were called a bear for a good reason. I have to believe him."

Last edited at Thu, Jan 22nd, 2015 19:38

>> No. 40759436
File 142198176803.gif - (499.45KB , 500x250 , MFW getting glasses.gif )
Dom nods, trotting off with her as he gives a small yawn into his hoof

"Oh, don't be thinking I'm big cause I eat a lot...well I do. But not that much and that nasty of food...just wanted something from what I had been's good just to indulge after getting money again..."

He chuckled, shaking his head before saying "What were you up to right now..."
>> No. 40759455
"Indulgence is good, yes. Just be careful," she says, a bit of a worried tone to her voice.

As she trots along, she stretches one of her shoulders. "But, me? I was just, uh, walking. I was going out for a walk, is all. I have to keep myself a little active, after all. Even though I'm not very athletic, it's always good to have health on your side. Besides, the last thing I need is to fail at running from a fight. Nobody's going to be able to hear the doctor when she gets hurt. And, even if I'm conscious and able to instruct, I really, really don't trust anyone else with a knife. Ever."
>> No. 40759456
File 142198574481.jpg - (2.12MB , 3500x2500 , commission 1.jpg )
"Right." He laid down, hooves resting on the only weapon he had access too. The others would be breaking them out soon, they'd have to. And when they did, he was coming out armed. "Can't wait to hear them scream..." He smiled, sighing happily. He seemed content, for now, lost in the thought of getting his hooves on one of the aggressors from the shower, or the stallion that had put the bounty on Andrew and himself.
>> No. 40759457
File 142198601334.png - (236.59KB , 2441x2083 , Le flower.png )
Don nods several times, letting her talk as he listens. He hadn't really thought about Doc getting hurt as she always seemed to have been on the sidelines but imagines if she does it wouldn't go so smooth.

"Yeah...I guess I can understand why you wouldn't want that happening....I don't really think I trust anyone to help me and heal me....besides Air."
>> No. 40759476
She nods, listening as Dom speaks. She could understand not trusting people with things like that, it seems.

"And I get that. It's not a comforting feeling, being exposed like that. You need to have someone you can trust. And Air? I've heard she's a great pony, so she's probably the one I'd go to if I had to. Besides, she looks like she's coordinated enough to use a knife."

"But what about me? You wouldn't trust me to help you out? I promise, I'll leave at least one of your kidneys."
>> No. 40759483
File 142198865316.png - (271.90KB , 375x334 , 200x201.png )
"Ohhh yeah, I'm sure we'll be out of this place in no time..." The little blue criminal confidently replied with a grin, rolling his neck out, standing just a bit taller and prouder. "Kinda sucks though, I wish we could communicate with them. Or at least... find Carnage... I wonder how she's holding up in here." Inquired the stallion, aloud, as he pondered across the cell, idly feeling across the walls as if some magical door was to appear for them to leave through.
>> No. 40759485
File 142198875425.png - (123.04KB , 594x1344 , Well that's cute.png )
He let his head roll slightly on his shoulder as he eyes his apartment as the two near it.

"Weeeell. We've only started working together about a month? I've trusted Sparkplug and well...that went bad what with the whole nuke thing...and Lunacy took all my money..."

Dom trots into his apartment complex. leading her along once again.
>> No. 40759520

"Sparkplug? Why would you ever trust Sparkplug? With anything? He's creepy."

She seems genuinely weirded out as she thinks of Sparkplug. The look on her face shows that her words were absolutely sincere.

"--Also, I have a degree! An actual, physical, legitimate, authentic, autographed and wall-mounted degree! What does everyone else have?"
>> No. 40759529
>Blackjack walks into Club Lucius, looking for a contact. That would be his only reason for coming him. Sure the drink probably aren't bad and the dancing mares are nice, but this just isn't his place. He enjoyed the quiet scenes much more. Maybe he could get into this kind of social setting eventually, but it's not today. Today it was strictly business. The easiest way to make a name is be in a good crew, but that's not what he really wants. Still, gaining enough recognition alone is going to be tough. If was going to make a name for himself alone, he's gonna need to put it out there first. He orders a soda and walks around the club to see if there's anyone who looks like he can help.
>> No. 40759532
File 142199132222.png - (121.57KB , 900x613 , Shits on like donkey kong.png )
"cause he was the only one who wasn't flipping shit and trying to cut ponies heads off or throw the leader off a birdge at one point..."

Dom opens the door and allows her to enter first, then himself. His apartment was much cleaner then before, and his dishes were clean for once. He raised an eye brow at her

"....You...have a degree...? Then why are you doing all of this again?"
>> No. 40759548
The doctor trots in happily, glancing around before looking back at Dom.

"Not panicking and not murdering usually merit a viable candidate for medicine, yes. You need to have your head clear. But still, it's Sparkplug."

The last question catches her a bit off guard. "Oh, me? Why am I here? Oh, uh, well, y'know, trying to get by. Even though I have a degree, trying to get by on my less-than-anticipated salary on my own and trying to afford everything for me and Lee was still pretty difficult."

There are steaming little whiffs of bullshit coming off of this, but it probably wasn't too big.

Last edited at Thu, Jan 22nd, 2015 22:51

>> No. 40759560
File 142199271252.png - (520.42KB , 2357x2880 , All my want.png )
If it was something big, Dom didn't seem to care. He knew a lot that there was reasons for everyone. Be it just for the fun of it, to not live and die and go out in a pitiful poof of smoke, or wanting money. He also knew that if no one wanted to flat out say their past they don't have to. Dom flopped onto his couch for a second before rolling around ti sit up, facing her.

"Good enough reason as any I guess. Reason I started was...well. I didn't want to die with my biggest accomplishment being 'deliver a pizza across town in 30 minutes.'"
>> No. 40759564
"I can see how that would be... Depressing," she says, sauntering over to the couch and unceremoniously plopping down on the other end.

"I can't say that that isn't a reason I'm here, too, I suppose. After all, the only thing my family and my town knows me for is for being booksmart and getting knocked up with a stallion that stuck around for a whole three days. Whoop-de-doo, I'm probably the most infamous and shameful in town. What a joy."
>> No. 40759565
File 142199327364.jpg - (0.96MB , 1600x1200 , illustrated_business_concept_DV789-769027.jpg )

Her first and primary instinct was annoyance and, just for a few precious seconds, she entertained the idea of letting her greater frustrations boil on over. This came in the form of a disgusted scowl of the sort a teacher might give to an especially slow student. She quickly conquered the urge with a hoof to her eyes and a flustered sigh soon after. Almost as if she was trying to exhale her negative thoughts. It worked for the most part as what was left, soon after, was exasperated understanding.

"Listen...if I was listening to myself about a year or so ago, I would have laughed myself out of the town. But this was before I survived a sixty foot drop into ice. Or took a magic bullet to the head...for you I might add, that turned me to stone. Or before I took a shotgun to the chest,, came back to life and ended up with all of this."

She pointed to her eyes before unbuttoning her blouse. Letting her pearly scales shine in what little light the moonlit office would allow. "Or before my team got captured chasing a shadow from my dream...mine and Jet's to be exact. So let me ask you much more odd shit do you need to see before you start realizing that, maybe, there is a whole lot more lurking in the dark than simple shadows?"

She could have been condescending if she wanted and the temptation was always there. She was well within her socially prescribed rights to be so but she held back on the venom this time. It was an odd concept after all, despite all that was seen and done. She could understand that.
>> No. 40759566
File 142199346006.png - (707.72KB , 2275x2590 , Heeeeeello Nurse.png )
"weeell...when you put it that way, it makes it seem like my reason is selfish...."

He gave a small chuckle, though shook his head, knowing it was probably in bad taste to say anything like that.

"Sorry....this day an age isn't really one where you come out on top I guess...."
>> No. 40759599
File 142199564049.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
"Probably in solitary, or busy murdering her cellmate." He snorted through his nose, rolling his eyes. "I's Carnage. If any of us are going to survive this place, it's her." He looked over to Andrew, before speaking. "No offense...You're a bit to nice, and I'm a bit to loud. If I was putting credits down on somepony, it would be her."
>> No. 40759623
"Everything everyone does is selfish. It just varies in how selfish it actually is. Concerning you're willing to get shot and give a hundred thousand credits to help your friends move forward, I'd say you're not doing too bad."

She shakes her head. "And, no. Nobody ever gets on top. And if they do, not for long. That's... That's why we're in the underground, I guess."
>> No. 40759626
File 142199653214.png - (189.42KB , 1920x1080 , 1395273402891.png )
"Underground for now...." Dom stared off at the ceiling as he said that. Drifting back to that whole thing with Luna and Celestia and Discord...He quickly shook his head and sat up

"Well uh, shit. ALmost forgot. Want the creds and a drink? finally stocked up the fridge."
>> No. 40759653
"Drink? Yes. Creds? Not now. I don't want to be a total leech, and I'd feel bad if I just straight up took it right away," she says, trying to offer Dom a smile.

She relaxes further, sinking into the couch. "I don't care what I get to drink. Anything will do. --Oh, and get yourself a drink, too. You seem pretty out of it. You probably need a drink more than I do."
>> No. 40759655
File 142199918247.png - (520.42KB , 2357x2880 , All my want.png )
Dom hopped off the couch and headed to the "kitchen." and went to grab two cans of soda. Giving a small chuckle as he trotted back, handing one to her and says

"Sorry it's not like. Beer....But hey...Amos tells me they put drugs in them so close enough."
>> No. 40759665
File 142199950097.png - (776.47KB , 3000x3671 , awkward intensifies.png )
"Ehehe..^^ right"

The challion nodded and gave a weak chuckle in response. "Oh yeah, trust me no offense taken. I'm well aware this isn't a place for me... I'm almost starting to think none of this is even real, all the way back to joining up with the group.. as if I'm in some sort of unaccepting state of shock. But you're right, she's raw enough, at least from waht I know of her she is..."
>> No. 40759670
"I listed three apartments, sweetheart."

The Contract Broker lets that hang in the air, only realizing a moment after he's said it that his choice in derogatory nicknames isn't as good in practice as it sounded in his head. After an awkward moment, during which he and several of his attaches cough into their respective hooves, he resolves to carry on as though nothing had happened.

"...20 grand a month. That'll get you the one in downtown. Pretty modest--comes with electricity, good road access, I'd say it's worth it."


"They put you in here for a reason. Been here days already, can't be long now. Not in the work yard not in the black room there's a reason why they are letting you just stay here, Carnage."

Blue Velvet's latest outburst of madness comes quite without warning, and disturbs what had--until that moment--been a rather companionable silence. She, somewhere off to your left--presumably in a corner, where you can easily avoid accidentally looking at her--and you doing whatever it is you've taken to doing, were mutually benefiting from an absence of interaction; but then, of course, she had to turn on the crazy again.

"They brought you here because they want you--they need you for the testing like it was with me and I don't know what they're going to do but ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING TO ME it's serious. Very serious...."
>> No. 40759671
File 142200291513.png - (45.58KB , 676x112 , huh 3.png )
>It'd already been a few days since she'd first been brought into the big house, though it was impossible for her to tell time by any normal means, every so often the guards would drag her and Velvet off to the showers in what felt like a semi-regular time frame so it must've been just about right. In the time she'd spent here, Carnage's legs had gotten fixed up and one of the first things she'd done was knock the living lights out of some poor sap in the rec room for his smokes. Now pulling on one of the light cigarettes she'd stolen, the mare's bright neon red gaze drifted towards the ceiling in apparent boredom, her mind trying to make sense of the twisted mangle of a mess Velvet spewed out every once in a while.

Well that would make sense... there's a demon after me and I already fought with dozens of copies of myself before.

If they're keeping me here for testing of some kind its probably to try and weaponize me in one way or other.

>In a sense it was a game she was playing with Velvet, shooting the shit with her by answering what she could understand of her insane ramblings with her own personal experiences to see what the mad mare would reply with next. If nothing else, it was as good a way to pass the time as any other.
>> No. 40759672
"Smart. Very smart. He didn't tell me you were smart. He would have mentioned you were smart, WHICH ONE OF YOU IS CUNTING LYING TO ME?!"

You hear the sound of clattering hooves, followed by a violent whinny and a tortured scream--but by this point, you know better than to dignify that with any sort of response. That's just the way she is, poor creature--every so often she'll scream at you and wind up her hooves and charge right at you; but before she's even made it halfway across the room, whatever's left of her rational mind reasserts itself and shoves her dark passenger back to the wayside. This time is no different: she tears across the room, and for a moment her hooves flash into view; but before she's so much as touched a single hair on your head, she's spun around and slunk back into her corner, with a chorus of mumbled apologies matching her hoofsteps.

"When they come for you, you need to...need to I don't know. Lie to them. Lie you fucking BITCH, don't...don't let them take you. Don't be useful, don't be...don't..."

Her speech lapses entirely, now: she simply murmurs "Don't" in a quiet drone, every few seconds, like a perverse and pitiable skipping record. Perhaps her mind has broken for the moment--or perhaps it is merely occupied with painful memories.
>> No. 40759673
File 142200428631.png - (458.31KB , 659x673 , Can't be with him.png )


>It wasn't a particularly pleasant game she was playing with Velvet but it was something she needed to do for Velvet's sake if not anything else. Carnage was a lot of things but she wasn't no goddamned shrink, she couldn't know what was wrong with the magical girl but nonetheless figured it must've been doing her some good to have someone to talk to.

Yea, I'll keep that in mind.

Not sure what I'll be able to do when a dozen armed guards come in to drag me away but if it makes you feel better I can try to shank one or to before they put me in the chair.

>But even as she said that in a dismissive tone of voice, Carnage felt a shiver crawl through her spine at the helplessness she experinced in a cell like this. She was completely unarmed except for a shiv she'd made from a sharpened toothbrush she kept about her person and had no way to hold off the guards once they really did come for her. If she had a knife things would be different, heck, a gun would be even better if she's daydreaming. With even minimal hardware she felt confident she could at least make a stand against these wannabe soldiers but naked as she was...

All that's left to do now is wait though...
>> No. 40759675
File 142200640477.jpg - (480.04KB , 1304x1304 , blue_stallion_commish_by_annasko-d5lyq37.jpg )
"Why did you get into this business, anyway? You seem like an innocent enough kid. Not really the type to start killing and robbing for credits. Hell...I'm not even sure if this is me. I used to kill ponies like us. Though this kingdom seems to have no need for the blade anymore." He jiggled the board, gently, feeling the slight give in the glue. "Gods...they're really this stupid...Wish it had a metal edge on it. But I suppose ponies in hell want ice water, don't they?" His eyes settled on Andrew, the smile on his muzzle never reaching them. Cold, deep pools were all he would see. "We're not meant to die in here. Still to much to do. And if they manage to kill us. Well...I hope they're pious, and live a good life. Because if they go to hell, I'll be waiting for them."
>> No. 40759704
File 142201785898.png - (285.27KB , 600x300 , 1419223597469.png )
Despite her best efforts, Farasi's hackles raised in pre-emptive offence, like she'd just struck him across the snout. His teeth ground together as she rattled off the many, many instances of admittedly very odd shit. His eyes lingered on the exposed scales when they gleamed in the light, before he averted them with an almost violent flick of the head. He turned to his right, exposing the angry red latticework in full. It was turning even more crimson as what might have been a blush threatened to send blood pouring out of the deep trenches and exposed flesh.

He was silent for some time, perhaps debating the merit of trying to defend his position even more. It was sorely tempting to make at least one more sceptical comment, but with a heavy sigh he brought his head back around to look at her again, the tired, frustrated look of concession clear on his good side. He did, however, see the need to make one more petty point.

"I offered to take that shot."

Then, with a dismissive snort, his lip curled into a fresh scowl, and he moved on.

"But... You gotta point. Fine. I guess I gotta give you the... benefit of the doubt. Weird shit's goin' down and you want me to look into it."

"Where d'ya want me to start?"
>> No. 40759896
File 142203976301.jpg - (52.39KB , 736x414 , Stannis.jpg )

"Well aren't we both just paragons of selflessness."

She said in fresh annoyance. There was a common enough saying among the harmonians that the prideful were destined to be humbled. Humble pie was something she had been force fed in almost lethal dosages, but that was not to say it was absent from her. She wondered why he took such offense to what amounted to little more than cold hard fact and she was tempted, in her anger, to write it off as mere stupidity. But there was another word that fit better and that was stubbornness. As much as she would enjoy it, she was not dealing with robots so she tried to take a softer approach. Her version of softer being that single snarky retort when so much more was needed to be said.

"Its not like I am asking you to drop everything else to chase down some magic. Of course we won't rely on it...but if we can find another avenue here, even one as unorthodox as this, than I would rather we explore all the options we might have. It might just save some lives"

She gave another sigh. Oddly enough, she kept her focus to his ugly mesh of flesh that marred the side of his face. Almost for no other reason at all, save maybe the chance to look at his mechanical eye. Something about it seemed different. Ever the perceptive one. She was half tempted to ask but decided, at least for the moment, to let the matter go. It was a shame he could not yet guess her motive in singling him out. Seems she was going to have be a little more direct.

"It just so happens that I have a solid lead for you. We need an expert...and I happen to know somepony like that." Looking a little more sullen, her scowl tempered by a distant trace of pain, she bit her lip hard while paying the floor beneath them a cursory look. Maybe to see if Farasi tracked in any gunk or blood or whatever. "This is why I need you in particular. You are the only one who stands even a chance of making this happen. Otherwise I would have done it myself. In fact I have tried. Several times in fact."

"Think you can guess where this is going?"
>> No. 40760009
File 142204949122.jpg - (217.80KB , 1280x720 , 1417724287203.jpg )
'Save some lives.' There was no doubt in his mind as to which lives she was referring to. He had no great love for magic, but the bitter grimace that peeled his face back following her snark relaxed ever so slightly. Vague interest wiggled through his glare, and he narrowed his good eye again. His wide bad eye was not quite as pretty as the old one, the colours not as vivid as its counterpart. It ached, only adding more fuel to his irritated frown.

She was playing a game with him. Was it impossible for her to talk straight? He had forgotten how coy she could be. His nostrils flared with a brief sigh, this talk of experts as interesting as it was excruciating. He didn't follow her gaze, keeping his laser-like stare boring into her. However dirty he was, he did not make a habit of rolling in filth, and there was little of note. A low growl surged up from the back of his throat.

"I'd rather not," he said, dread and distaste intermingling. He was not looking forward to this. His head cocked to the side with a machine-like jolt. "But if I have to..."

"You either want me to hack something or break into someone's place. Prob'ly both, 'cause this expert of yours ain't cooperating. Am I warm?"
>> No. 40760131
The doctor seems more than a little disappointed, but she doesn't complain and sucks it up. "They probably put drugs in everything. But, I guess I can't complain. After all, you just gave me a taco, offered me money and food, and brought me to your house on a whim. Don't think you're inadequate. I'd never complain."

After a moment, she looks at the couch, and after a moment of thought, she looks a little concerned. However, she keeps her mouth shut.
>> No. 40760170
File 142206323408.png - (930.05KB , 2545x2461 , 85937__UNOPT__safe_discord_genderswap_artist-darth-franny_young_eris.png )
"Well...yeah...figured I should atleast try to build a bond with people I'm going to fight with...even if most are just criminals trying to make a quick buck...not saying you like that of course!"

Dom shook his his head and looked down at his soda, slooowly looking up at her and blinking a few times

" okay?"
>> No. 40760305
"...I... I think I saw something," she mutters quietly, looking down at the cushions with arched eyebrows.

"Dom, I actually think I saw something crawling around," she says, scooting away a tad before looking up to Dom.

>> No. 40760324
File 142207338788.jpg - (24.47KB , 636x358 , rta5zyn9olmzecjsfywg.jpg )
He could only raise an eyebrow at the nickname given to him. Despite how awkward it made everyone, including himself, feel, he still got the general idea on what he meant to say. It was an insult to think about, but as long as he was willing to help him out, it would all be worth the secret anger Amos felt towards him and his girls.

"Hmmm, sounds like a good start. I'll take it," he said, still noticing the awkwardness in the air. "And what about the operators?"
>> No. 40760332
File 142207435058.png - (316.44KB , 1276x910 , Apples.png )
Dom didn't seem to mind much at the probable bug running around his home, seeming to either be use to it, or had far worse. He raised a small eye brown, turning to face her and giving a long drink of his soda

>> No. 40760336
"There's a bug! I think there's a bug! In your couch!"

Clearly unsettled, Doc stands up off of the couch and takes a few steps back.

"Eeew! That's disgusting! Dom! Dom, kill it!"
>> No. 40760341
File 142207484856.jpg - (107.48KB , 900x900 , And after time skip___.jpg )
Dom blinks several times as she gets up from the couch

"Uhh...It''s not really that big of a problem is it? Pretty sure we've seen worse."

Dom did how ever get off of the couch as well, moving the couch cushions to try and search for the bug....thouuuugh not seeming to be in any rush.
>> No. 40760346
Doc is still a bit shaky, it seems. Although flustered, she matters to come up with a coherent response.

"Ew, ew, no! I hate bugs! I hate anything that scampers or skitters or crawls! I can't stand it! I've seen and done some disgusting things, but I just--!"

After an exasperated sigh, she shakes her head. "I absolutely hate bugs! Please, just kill it!"
>> No. 40760360
File 142207591004.png - (212.01KB , 1024x2117 , Dom the Bear.png )
"Allllright, alright, I get it. I'll see if I can kill it...if it didn't scurry around into the couch where I can't get it....I mean...uh..." He didn't know what to say to not make that sound bad as he shrugged, "Might have some bug spray under the sink if it helps..."
>> No. 40760393
File 142207916921.jpg - (16.23KB , 700x300 , 32533.jpg )

It seemed there really was something different about the eye. The fact stood out, even in her advanced state of frustration, because it begged the question of as to why. It called into doubt her choice in the first place. It would be just her luck that something would come up. He seemed annoyed as well, as if the conversation was starting to tear at his nerves. That made two of them. It also seemed as if he was not really getting what was going on. She raised an frustrated brow and sighed one of many sighs. The problem was her approach. Time to stop beating around the bush.

"It is my sister Farasi. That is the expert I am talking about. And no, you are not be hacking into her computers or sneaking into her apartment. Or doing anything anything else besides trying to talk with her."

She backed away, keeping a close eye on him as she took a piece of paper out from her desk. Scribbling down a number magically, the room illuminated ever so slightly by the dim glow of her horn. "I spoke with her a grand total of one time since the...incident. I begged, I pleaded but...well, we don't have much in common with one another. The one thing we do have though is that we both can hold onto a grudge."

She walked forward again, swiftly as she could. Practically shoving the paper in his direction as she stared daggers into his mechanical eye. "I am not asking you to fix my family. I meant what I said about not wanting her anywhere near all of this. But If we are going to start exploring supernatural solutions, I can not think of anyone else more qualified to help. I also know that, save for you know who, there is no one else who stands a better chance of getting through to her. So there. Am I being clear enough."
>> No. 40760432
File 142208259522.jpg - (206.46KB , 500x500 , 1417670016149.jpg )
The tightly-knit glower that marred his face dropped into blank, undisguised surprise. It was so sudden, it was like someone had thrown some emergency shut-off switch and powered him down. He paled a shade or two, lifeless and stupefied, and it look him several seconds to begin blinking rapidly. It could have been winking, given he had only one functioning eyelid, but it was probably blinking. He took a stunned step back, a brisk shake finally dragging him back to reality to listen to Frost.

Her sister. Farasi could hardly believe his ears. It was almost an effort to recall the sweet, innocent mare. It felt so distant, like it had all happened to someone else. His eyes followed Frost, but he stared right through her. She wanted him to talk to her. He wasn't even sure he remembered how to do that. When had he started automatically assuming everything had to do with sneaking, killing or hacking? Eska was right; he was sick.

And Chill would know that in a second. An expression creased his face that saw less use than it once had; nervousness. His hackles raised in apprehension. He took the welcome excuse to not look at Frost that the paper presented, and he tilted his head down to stare at it like it was a cobra. He grabbed it from her with a sluggish hoof, reading it over half a hundred times.

"... Yeah. Crystal," he drawled distractedly. He took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "That, uh... yeah. Yeah, I-- I get ya. Y'just want me to... talk to her. Chill."

He had half a mind to refuse her. He wasn't the stallion Chill had talked to so long ago. But, as he slid the paper into his jacket, his lips pursed into a thin, resolute line and nodded slowly. He looked up into Frost's eyes again.

"I'll give 'er a call. I... ain't too good with talking. But I guess I'm really the best you got." He allowed himself a bitter ghost of a snicker at that, his shoulders shaking in near silence. "'M sure she'll be... so happy t'see me."
>> No. 40760449
File 142208431604.jpg - (93.89KB , 1280x720 , Koko13.jpg )

His reaction was puzzling to a degree that made her supremely uncomfortable. If Frost was being entirely honest with herself, she came into this with the idea that Farasi would not have really cared either way. She was expected questions, resistance, and more passive aggressive dancing around the bush she come to know very well in him. Seeing such an abrupt change brought a questioning look to her. As if she was seeing, for the first time, just how mad this zebra really was.

"It won't be hard." She said. Her voice strangely soft. Feminine. Lacking the commanding, forceful edge she so often used. Part of her wanted to laugh at this dramatic reaction. After all, this had been the very same creature that claimed she was the crazy one. Part of her wanted to pull the paper away, tell him she would find another way and just leave it at that. Part of her wanted to ask him to ask her how she was or what she was doing...

"If it comes down to the wire, just tell her its going to save lives. Convince her that she is going to save some good ponies...that won't be difficult. She loves to help." It felt like a breach, sharing all this with him. Sharing with him the intimate secrets of how best to manipulate her. It did not make her sick so much as it made her tired. If only they could all see that this was for the best. "What is important is that she trusts your intentions. She only needs to give advice, or a place we can start looking and that is that. No more is needed. Just let me know when you get around to it..."
>> No. 40760454
Oh, boy, Dom was certainly good with words. Doctor felt completely and one-hundred percent uncomfortable when Dom said he might have lost the bug under the couch.

"Okay, okay, I'll go look for the spray," she says, promptly turning around and trotting into the kitchen. "Find that thing. I don't know what it was, but it was big, it had legs, and it crawled. And it makes my skin crawl, too."
>> No. 40760493
File 142208717100.png - (694.63KB , 800x800 , E'yup-Nightshade.png )
"Alright. I'll try to catch it under a cup." Dom quickly took a fast food cup he had laying around, dumped what was inside, then quickly went back to the couch. He shook it here and there before trying to move his cup to trap it.
>> No. 40760533

Time passes. Velvet lapses in and out of her catatonic state, with intermittent bouts of screaming; and in this way, you are allowed to while away your sentence, and uneventfully pass into slumber.

"...Are you awake?"

When you wake up, you realize three things instantly and simultaneously--first, you are not in your cell anymore. You can tell this before you've even opened your eyes: there is a strange moisture in the air, and the ambient noise of the room has taken on a distinctively closed and huffy bent. Secondly: you are restrained by two sets of manacles, which bind your legs widthwise and are joined by a single length of large and heavy chain. It's a bog-standard four-leg lock--the kind you were taught to break out of before you even knocked over your first bandit camp. You'd be able to shake it easily, but for your third realization: You have just awoken from heavy sedation. Your head is swimming, your eyes are bleary, and your tongue feels numb inside your mouth...

>> No. 40760553
File 142209411991.png - (95.21KB , 855x935 , Bandrew.png )
Swiftwing perhaps shrunk back a bit to the question, as he looked off to the side as he came up with an answer, lookin back on his life and giving it a bit of thought. He hummed quietly as he responded, "I... can I say that my reason for joining was because it'd give me something to do and ponies to hang out with? Or is that too stupid of me?" he chuckled weakly. "I had nothing going on for me before hoof.... and I really saw it as an opportunity to give me somethign to do other than just walk around this Celestia forsaken city all day everyday..."

He looked on at the hoof rest as Umi messed around with it. "You and me both." is how he replied.
>> No. 40760602
File 142210809289.png - (148.83KB , 216x668 , Fuck 'em.png )
>Oh fuck, so much for not going anywhere without putting up a fight, or rather, so much for putting up a fight she could remember. Funny thing about sedation is that it tended to muddle with your memory such that she couldn't even remember getting here at all. Had a bunch of soldiers come knocking on her cell's door and tried to drag her away only for her to put up a fight and forcing them to tranq. her during transportation or had there been vents in the cell that allowed for gas to be pumped in at their leasure for them to stroll right in at their ease?

>Whichever the case, those things really didn't change the nature of her current predicament as Carnage felt like complete and utter shit. Like she'd just woken up from the worst binge of her life which, considering the Scratch addiction she'd only very recently managed to curb, really made it into some kind of achievement for the anesthetist who'd knocked her out. And though the locks that held her were both familiar and weak in their own right, feeling like shit as she did, Carnage very much doubted she could break her bindings though that didn't stop her from putting up some token resistance and trying anyways.

>As for the annoying voice that spoke to her from some unknown direction in the hazy mess that was the world around her, Carnage had but one thing to it as per the promise she had made to Velvet.

Who do you think?

I'm your mom's pimp and I came to collect on her late dues!

>She answered with an acidic tone, a defiant grin lighting her features with a sense of accomplishment.
>> No. 40761029
File 142213521623.jpg - (3.46MB , 1758x2500 , 1420229586392.jpg )
His ears twitched and swivelled about, as if the sudden lack of iciness in her voice made hearing her an ordeal. He blinked again; his eye couldn't widen any further if it tried, which it did all the same. The empty smile on his face twitched, quirking and intermingling with a caustic, wry expression. It would be hard. It could very easily turn into an utter catastrophe. But he nodded listlessly all the same.

Her advice was more than welcome. Perhaps he should have been taking notes. He kept nodding, the energy that went into the motion dissipating, giving him a rather bobble-head-like appearance. His good eye was elsewhere, drifting away from Frost as if in deep thought, but he was still listening.

"Got it," Farasi almost whispered. The strange amusement had no entirely dissipated; there was a dreamy sing-song note in his voice, but it was nearly buried by his foreboding. “I’ll... keep that in mind. If’n I recall, she was a real... trustin’ sort. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

The right corner of his lip twitched upward, even as his brow knit tighter and the left corner drifted downward, as if the movement pained him.

"If y'think this'll help with our... friends, I best get on it soon. Shouldn’t take too long. With a bit of nudgin’, she’ll cough somethin’ up.”
>> No. 40761407
File 142215012933.jpg - (86.89KB , 600x394 , board.jpg )
In response to this show of defiance, a new noise rips through the darkness: from high above you, accompanied by a burst of bright blue sparks, a small electric explosion rings out. It's the sort of thing you're familiar with--it's the sort of burst you get when you fuck up a high-power circuit in just the right way, or touch two jumper cables together. No points for guessing what it is in this case.

"Please comply. If you exhibit further resistance I shall apply ten thousand volts to your undercarriage. If you comply you will not be harmed.

"Please state your name."

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you become aware that you aren't quite alone. Above you, some two meters up and away, the wall takes on a dark and glassy texture--an observation room. If you strain your eyes, you can see the pony watching you--though going by his strange and curved horns, he is most likely a stag.

"Got a line on 3 cooks working as a crew. College kids, mostly--probably dropouts, I didn't ask. Say they'll work on Hotsauce, OJ, and Fairy Dust. One of em kinda smells like Dweed but otherwise they seem legit."

He does another lap through his database. The nice thing about having a holographic computer is that literally everything you do with it, no matter how mundane, looks awesome.
>> No. 40761424
File 142215072238.jpg - (220.85KB , 752x1063 , d60637fab2813b366c5d34dacc6ad40c-d56730c.jpg )
That was certainly the truth. One of the most hype-est inventions to come out were holographic images- which was only stomped out once everyone realized how expensive it was to get any of the really cool stuff of that kind. It's no lie that even Amos would enjoy having one of those hologram do-hickies. It's a shame he forgot a lot about computers since leaving his job in the office. Still, though, at least he's getting some workers that seem more than well enough to start out with.

"They'll do just nicely. Can you get me in contact with them? I'll need them as soon as I can get them."

He pulled out his phone, expecting to get a number to call them up or something like that.
>> No. 40761482
File 142215426661.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
Umi nods. "Makes sense, in all honesty. I mean, I left my lands for adventure." His massive shoulders slumped, a quiet sigh leaving him. "This is what it's like to wait, eh? I don't like it...not at all." He jiggled the board again, smiling a little. He wanted to smash something with it...anything. Though there was little chance of that ending well, unless they were accompanied by a group of their friends.
>> No. 40761499
File 142215501777.png - (50.54KB , 147x493 , Annoyed 3.png )
>Aw hell, on top of tying her up in an electric chair using cheap locks and anesthetics to hold her down the bastards were going to lie to her while making a show of it. Chances were that this was being recorded by a bunch of sickos for the thrill of seeing the great and powerful Carnage brought low through torture. But little did these guys know that this wasn't this pony's first rodeo and that Carnage already had extensive experience with torture in one form or other as the Old Man had seen to it that his daughter would know how to handle herself in any situation she might encounter.

>So, seeing as these guys wanted to see a meek and complacent Carnage whose will had been broken for the viewing pleasure of some crazy sadists, the least she could do was show them that the only thing they'd accomplish with electricity was to knock her out or kill her. If they aimed to do to her what they did to Velvet then these sickos were in for a big surprise. She'd gone through worse and lived, hell, this was gonna suck but it sure as hell wasn't going to break her.

>And so, with an annoyed expression of the likes of someone who'd woken up to find that the dog had pooped on the carpet, Carnage turned her eyes towards the stag bastards looking down at her and spat out...

Shove it up your ass dickhead!

I demand to see my lawyer!
>> No. 40761545
File 142215853476.png - (96.83KB , 900x1086 , Excellent.png )
Listening on, Swiftwing attentively nodded in return. "So.. was Sickles your first thing you immediately found in search of adventure? Or were you a part of something else before this?" He inquired, rolling his head in a circle, crackling of the joints resonating through the cell. "Yeah.... honestly I'm not taking it too well, but I'm just not showing it that much I guess... it's more in my head... I'm just staying silent." He murred, glancing down at the hoof rest in Umi's hoof.
>> No. 40761555
>Blackjack was at Burning Bush, waiting and watching. The earth pony sighs and takes a drink from his cup of tea he got down the road a little bit from the park. It was a nice evening at least. The air was crisp and clean, one of the only places in the Low City it actually is. Even if it was a little chilled outside, it was pleasant. The wind didn't blow, and there wasn't any rain. He leans back on the bench he was sitting on and sighs, looking upwards to the rest of Canterlot, away from the Low City and up to the Mid and Upper City, lost in thought. He still keeps an eye out for anyone coming, seeing if anyone actually does. If not, he'll just go back home in a bit. But for now, it's just him and his thoughts, enjoying the peace

Last edited at Sat, Jan 24th, 2015 21:16

>> No. 40761568
"What?! Why?! Just kill it! Don't put it in a cup! Then it might get away!"

Her voice only seemed to get more frantic as time went on. Quickly, she goes to the kitchen and looks under the sink, grabbing the bottle she presumed was the insecticide. She hurries back over behind Dom, holding it out to him.

>> No. 40761596
File 142216123033.jpg - (98.98KB , 800x558 , dragon_eye_by_lucky978-d5vyxww.jpg )

She observed him with a cold, passionless gaze he may remember from long before. Not a look she used often to be sure, but there was special reason to be detached. Everything else was observed and taken into account, but the brunt of her focus never did leave the curious case of his eye. It raised a very troubling question. One that called into question his very effectiveness. He did not seem so confident either, but that was not really atypical of him anyways. She squinted her eyes for a second. Letting the silence linger for a bit longer before choosing to break it.

"I like the new eye, by the way." She said, in a tone that was passive and transitional. "Just make sure you don't nudge too hard. It wont take her long to find out that I put you up to this." She pulled herself a bit closer to the door. Eyebrows at a raise. "Do what you have to do. Just let me know when you do it." She opened the door and nodded her head in the direction of the hall. "Dinner is getting cold. Go grab something to eat. I will be outside in a second."
>> No. 40761653
Umi looked down at it, as well, thinking, silently. "I had some jobs here and there, as I went around, looking for a place to fit. The Sickles are the first thing I found, that made me feel like I belonged. Hell, even when Carnage decided to maul me, I didn't mind that much. She hits like a fucking truck though..." He laughed, shaking his head, before laying down with a sigh. "I just hope I get to look them in the eyes, no matter the outcome."
>> No. 40761668
File 142216564000.png - (316.44KB , 1276x910 , Apples.png )
"....I actually don't know why. It seemed like a good idea at the time..." Dom blinked a few times as he starts at Doc before taking the spray can, a smile on his face as he was apparently having a lore more fun the he had when he was eating tacos on the curb outside. He sprays under the rim of the cup, filling the insides with the toxins and of course killing the bug.

"There we go."
>> No. 40761688
File 142216995296.png - (75.34KB , 271x323 , 1420410986715.png )
It was entirely possible he didn't pay attention to a single word after 'eye.' For the second time, Farasi's expression violently slackened; it was quite clear he had been caught off guard. This time, however, he recovered more quickly, and a significantly less pleased demeanour over took him. His face seemed to sag as a deep, tight scowl etched its way down his good side. Yellow teeth flashed with the slight widening in the cleft in his lip. His eyes, even more mismatched than they once were, followed her intensely.

"Do you really like it?" He asked softly. The words hung for a second or two, just long enough to make one think that he actually expected a response, before he pre-empted one with a sudden acidity.

"I fucking hate it."

With that, the rest of him returned to life. His legs shifted about as he turned the rest of him towards the door, a jerky nod signalling a change in the metaphorical winds. Coldness took the reins from anger as he strode out the door and back to the table, though it lurked beneath the surface.

"I'll get on that as soon as possible."
>> No. 40761689
Doc shivers, shaking her head and letting out a disgusted sigh. It was over. She takes a few steps back, finding a wall to lean on. She needed to relax after that scare.

"I can't stand crawlies. Thank you, Dom," she says, still noticeably tense and shaky. She takes a deep breath and lets it out in another attempt to calm herself down. Her ears rise from the sides of her head after another moment, and she seems like she's finally regaining her composure. All seemed well, until a moment later; she cocks an eyebrow, tilts her head, and looks at Dom with a quizzical look.

"...And why are you smiling like that?"
>> No. 40761690
File 142217038200.png - (110.73KB , 763x1047 , For the lack of a better filename.png )
Dom couldn't help but let out a small chuckle once again, though he tried to be a bit more serious, coughing and sitting up straight with an unreadable expression.

"....Nothing. Nothing I'm...I....Pffh"

He isn't able to, breaking into a small laugh.

"I'm sorry...your reaction, and the look on your face...just...hadn't had anything that made me laugh like that in a while."
>> No. 40761693
It's hard to tell exactly what the Doctor felt about that comment, but one thing is certain. She's more than a little flustered, and her scrunched up nose and furrowed eyebrows are testament to this. After a moment of stuttering in a hopeless attempt at a comeback, she decides to go the simple route.

"Just--! Shut up!" she yells, her ears going back to the side of her head as her shout scrunches again. Her comeback was weak, and she knew this.

So, she promptly boops Dom on his snout. Hard. ...ish.
>> No. 40761694
File 142217194385.jpg - (107.48KB , 900x900 , And after time skip___.jpg )
Dom put a hoof to his nose after she boops him, rubbing it as he couldn't keep his smile away, just rolling his eyes as he fixes his couch again and sits on it "Heh. Can't help it..."
>> No. 40761695
File 142217220882.png - (5.83MB , 4300x2697 , horses.png )
Swiftwing kept his gaze up to Umi, keeping up an expression to show he's listening. "Right, I get it.. Heh... I hope we get to find them too... And I've personally never gotten to feel her bite aside from a small bit of anger from my first mission with you guys.. even then she didn't really seem to be too angry at me personally. And at least it's not as hard as being run down by a frickin' freight train." He laughed a bit, referencing their first spar.
>> No. 40761697
After Dom sits down, Doc can't help but smile herself. She tries to hide it, but her facade doesn't last long before she starts giggling as Dom rubs his nose.

"...Jerk. Laughing at me like that -- I was scared! I couldn't help it!" she says lightheartedly as she smiles. "I probably looked like a dork, but still!"

"Oh, and I didn't bonk you too hard, did I? Did it hurt? I hope not."
>> No. 40761698
File 142217279295.png - (874.85KB , 696x696 , umi not smug___.png )
"Heh, imagine if it wasn't a spar...and, fuck. All I could do was defend myself. We were trying to help her, and the last thing she needed was me swinging back. Hell, we probably would have just ended up ripping one another apart." Shrugging, he looked to Andrew, before looking back to the wall. "Well...tomorrow's another day, and with any lick, we'll be feeling better, and ready to fight back."
>> No. 40761699
File 142217292291.png - (520.42KB , 2357x2880 , All my want.png )
"I know, I know. I couldn't help it. Just couldn't. Needed a good laugh..." Dom sat his hooves down on the couch and nodded "Don't worry, You pack a punch but I think I'll live."
>> No. 40761700
"It's... It's fine, it really is," she says, calming down. "I get it. I probably looked stupid. I need a laugh, too..."

She seemed reluctant to even step near the couch. The reasons are obvious.

"But, me? Throwing punches?" She takes a minute to flex one of her forelegs. There wasn't much to brag about, really -- her figure was less than impressive. "...Yeah, Dom, there's only so much bullcrap I can take before I start catching on to you."
>> No. 40761701
"Oh yeah. Might have to come with us instead of stay on the sidelines waiting for us to get hurt~ That'll make everyone runt he other way." He joked
>> No. 40761703
"Ah--hey, don't jump the gun there, fella."

The Contract Broker leans back and tucks his computer behind himself--hiding it from your view literally, and from your reach symbolically. I mean, you can still reach over there and grab it from him, but then things might go a little poorly.

"2500 for the operators, 2500 for the address on the apartment and the number of the landlord. Finder's fee."

Bleeding is always a strange experience for you--for most dragons, really. Your scales, by nature, are more durable than the meaty flesh of most other races; and after taking several gunshot wounds and spending more time in intensive care than is at all healthy, you are keenly aware that the impact is where the majority of your pain comes from: most times when you get shot, between your bomb jacket and your skin, the bullets don't even penetrate. With that being said, you might be forgiven for forgetting the sensation of bleeding--for becoming strange to the gentle white-hot trickle of blood running down your skin, or of the throbbing all-consuming itch that comes when something slips between your scales.

"Hm. Good color. Doesn't smell diseased."

That's why, when you look down at the green dragon who's just put a shank between your under-plates, you might be forgiven for flipping your shit; at least, on a cosmic level. On a literal level, his six or seven dragon buddies would probably beat the fuck out of you if you try anything.

"Mister...Igneus? Shieldscale?"

As much fun as it would be to turn around and clock him over the head, the terms of your deal with the gang was simple: they bleed you, and you talk to them. That's the way it's gotta be. At least you have the shower water to cool you down and soothe the itch.


You would very much like to say that the anticipation is the worst part. In a softer, gentler world, where pain was would be able to say that. After all, you have quite a lot to fear: you've been electrocuted before, in far less comfortable circumstances than this. When you were young, The Old Man taught you for this: "Electricity is the second thing the amateur uses", he said. So he chained you in place and set your hooves in a tub of water and he looked right into your eyes while he made you scream; and he wiped away your tears and cooked you Rat Stew while you nursed your burns. You know what it feels like--how truly brutish and painful and soul-sapping a simple car battery can be; and in a more perfect world, the simple knowledge of what is to come would be the worst part.


But this isn't the nebulous "more perfect world". So as bad as the anticipation is, the reality of it is even worse. No product of your imagination can match the sharp *pop* of the metal meeting your flesh, or the sudden stabbing, burning pain that stains your coat; nothing can eclipse the sudden skip of your heart that leaves your chest pounding and your lungs empty; not even practice can prepare you for the raw unbridled pain of it, that leaves you feeling as though your very soul were wrenched away. Your legs spasm and your jaw locks, an instant before you scream through your gritted teeth; and in a moment you have fallen to the ground, as a soft trail of smoke rises from your coat...

I'm going to give you ten thousand for five seconds. The Old Man said. Thirty thousand will kill you. In softer times, the old man told you this; but now, your observer barely lets you breathe before he speaks again.

"Your brain scan shows acute damage to your adrenal centers. Are you a Scratch addict?"
>> No. 40761704
"Right. Everyone will run away in fear when I pull out a syringe needle and threaten to stab them. Sure. Real threatening," she says with unbelievably thick sarcasm, suppressing a chuckle as she does. "I mean, what am I gonna do? Heal them to death? Choke them with bandages? Give them an adrenaline overdose?" she rambles, gesturing with her forelegs as she speaks.
"Unless they're strapped down and at my absolute mercy, there's not much I could do. And even then it's iffy."
>> No. 40761705
File 142217629233.jpg - (111.99KB , 900x499 , tumblr_nhtlx4Yfcp1tycmn3o1_1280.jpg )
Ah yes, the finder's fee. He was wondering when the greasy haired stallion would get to that- although he would prefer if he forgot about it completely. Oh well. This was business, and Amos was much prepared to speak the "language" that business preferred. After all, in order to make money, you need to spend it. It was like alchemy, but with less bullshit tied on.

"Very well. I have your money right here."

Amos would reach into his coat pocket, pulling out the creds, but handing it over in a way that wouldn't attract attention from anyone with a nose just too big for their head. It felt necessary, as the last thing he wanted was to have a group of risky criminals following him to see if he had anything extra. Of course he didn't have too much on him. That would be absolutely absurd... and it's not like he had that much money to begin with. That would all hopefully change very soon.

Just because it feels necessary

Target 5
1d10 = 5
>> No. 40761927
File 142221114235.png - (685.33KB , 2357x2880 , Remember that one time I stole the princesses crown.png )
" You saying that made me realize you can probably torture someone since you know all their vital spots and how to keep them alive....

...." Dom strokes his chin, apparently thinking this may be a valuable thing to do in the near future.
>> No. 40762111
"Hey there."
Where the pony had come from wasn't immediately obvious; he almost seemed to materialize from the trunk a nearby tree. But no, he'd just been on the other side of the tree. Ponies can't do magic stuff like that.
"Peaceful out here, isn't it? The usual inhabitants are friendly, mellow..."
The green pony stopped mid-sentence, a thought forming across his face.
"You seem awfully sober. Not one of the usuals here?"
>> No. 40762128
>Blackjack looks at the new arrival, wondering if he's here about the ad or if he's just striking up a friendly conversation. He decides to continue the small talk, seeing where it takes him.
It is quite peaceful, especially for the Low City
>He notices the pony stopping and thinking, looks like this might actually be someone. He continues the conversation, hoping to learn more
Oh, I'm a usual. Not really into smoke, but I'm a usual.
>> No. 40762133
"Ah. Just here for the eace and quiet. Me too. My wife loved this place, a long time ago. Said it reminded her how chaos didn't always mean destruction."
Tall Tales looked over at a couple of younger park-goers giggling in the grass on a blanket nearby.
"Of course, it's also a good spot for clandestine meetings. Not many ponies here will remember this night the next morning..."
>> No. 40762142
>Blackjack's ears perk up as the green stallion he's talking to makes his last comment.
Yes it is. Perfect for keeping people out of your hair. Especially when you try to make it a point you want something quiet.
>By the way this guy is acting, especially with his last remark, he can't make it more clear that he is up to something. Either this guys wasn't trying to be subtle or he was in which case wow.
So, what brings you here then? Doesn't look like you're here for a few herbs.
>> No. 40762167
File 142222301768.png - (264.80KB , 2932x2990 , Yeeeeahhh_____.png )
"..." Swiftwing gave a bit of a lost gaze. "Wait, what are you talking about..? She beat you up..?" He asked, looking on, seeming to not have been filled in on the details of that evening. "Otherwise.. I kinda have to admit that fight would've been pretty one sided just by how the spar was going, eheh... I could very quickly tell that you're not someone I'd want to get angry, most of the group, actually, that would apply for all." he gave a faint chuckle.
>> No. 40762294
The big red drake growls, his blood steaming where it hits the floor of the showers. "First thing... I'm looking for anyone who knows a passing acquaintance of mine from outside. One Icefang. Second, I'm of the impression that some of my crew may have wound up in here around the same time. Angry orange bitch of a birdhorse, big dumb blue birdhorse, and a naïve, smaller red and blue one that likes wrestling too much. Also a regular horse with a serial killer smile and a Neighponese accent, and a zebra with half a face."
>> No. 40762440
"I probably could if I wanted to, assuming they're tied down and aren't able to shoot me or something. I know where to cut and where not to cut to prevent bleeding, I have a strong grasp on anatomy, and I know plenty of drugs that could help in the process. There's a reason people tell you to respect doctors, you know," she says, a sly smile on her face. "And, if I really wanted to, I could take some or all of their organs and limbs and sell them on the black market for nice price."

"...This conversation just took an awfully sadistic turn, didn't it?"
>> No. 40762443
File 142223534079.png - (176.80KB , 319x467 , Yank'd.png )


>That hurt, it really hurt, that hurt a lot. With a voltage that was one third of the way towards what would kill a pony, it took all of the mare's composure not to simply pass out then and there from the shock of it all though that might have been the more merciful alternative to what was in store for her. As things were however, Carnage was left huffing and panting from the treatment, her entire body hanging limp from the chains that were hooked up to somewhere far above her head. She could taste the smoke rising off her body and she damned well felt like parts of her were still very much on fire. What the hell was their angle that they'd torture her like this for information they damned well already knew the answers to?

>Back in the older times the Old Man had given her just as much of a shock as part of a mere training exercise for a filly. Given that it had been years ago and that she was now a much stronger mare than she'd been, Carnage damned well knew that she could handle a lot more than what she'd just been given. Still, Carnage's end goal was to escape this place and if the shock treatment went much further then it might well leave her without the means to escape on her own. So for her own sake, maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to keep pissing the horned bastard off even if he was being an incredibly dense pompous ass.

W-What do you think Dickhead?


>She paused then, gathering saliva in her dried out mouth to continue speaking without her voice failing her.

I've been locked up for days now.

If I was a Scratch addict I would've gone nuts by now without a dose.

Last edited at Sun, Jan 25th, 2015 18:24

>> No. 40762473
File 142223645451.png - (329.85KB , 1600x1679 , Lets have sex some time wink.png )
"Maaaybe a bit...but hey, lets not pretend this wouldn't have came up if we went about our business like we aren't a bit sadistic either way...." He shook his head, giving a small smirk...blinking a few times as he thinks though "...." He shook his head rapidly and said "Nope...Don't think I should ask you to go around selling organs yet."
>> No. 40762479
File 142223660148.jpg - (2.12MB , 3500x2500 , commission 1.jpg )
Umi sighed, closing his eyes, before speaking. "She was on some seriously bad stuff. Drugs. Farasi and I contacted the old man, and staged a kind of intervention, to get her clean. I might have stepped over the line. Told her she would have made her shot, in Moodrid, if she had been clean. She came over the table at me like a demon. Biting, punching...I hit her once, on accident. But I didn't want to. We were there to help her. I doubt I would have been helping, had I started fighting back, so I took the hits. Until the Old Man picked up a chair, at least." He shrugged, wings spreading out, slightly, as he was finally settling down for the night. "Not easy to believe that you were more worried about me, compared to Sam. He had that mask on all night. Though he's one of the nicest ponies around, once you talk to him." He let out a soft breath, body relaxing, atop the weapon that could save them. "I'm going to get some sleep...make sure I'm ready for rec time tomorrow..."
>> No. 40762491
File 142223711197.png - (53.51KB , 900x324 , Thingken of mango.png )
The chair... nice weapon choice. Was one of the first things running through his mind, along with confusion upon hearing of Carnage's drugs, and failed mission in Moodrid, seems he was just now being caught up on this far back. "Oh... I see... ... It's not that I'm not scared of Sam, its just-... never mind." He shook his head, not wanting to press it further as Umi looked ready to get to sleep, Swiftwing complied and nodded, laying back down to rest at his own hoofrest. "Sounds good... G'night Umi." And with that, he curled up and soon slept himself
>> No. 40762608
Doc just shrugs and nods in agreement. She looks at the couch and seems like she's tempted to sit again, but doesn't move. "I guess you're right. The subject would have been brought up sooner or later, knowing us. And to say some of our members are sadistic is a bit of an understatement."

"But, you don't want to sell organs? Well, why not? Assuming a guy you shot still has organs intact, he's not going to be using them any time soon. And you can probably make good money off of it, too, so long as you have someone adept with a scalpel and willing to do the dirty work."
>> No. 40762613
File 142224164713.png - (132.62KB , 800x1000 , Anon Dom.png )
"Well....if you make it sound so easy maybe we should just carry an ice chest to every mission where we need to shoot people?" Dom snickered, patting the couch with a hoof "It won't bight you know.
>> No. 40762629
"I might actually suggest that. It could work."

She looks at the open spot on the couch and grimaces a bit, one of her ears flopping to her head. "I'm not afraid of the couch. I know it won't bite. However, what's both in it and on it might."
>> No. 40762640
File 142224403857.png - (123.04KB , 594x1344 , Well that's cute.png )
Dom nods at what she had first said, the ngiving another smirk as he decides to yet again mess with her, folding his forelegs and saying "You and I both know I won't be playing any moves on you and biting."
>> No. 40762653
"I have a feeling you're lying. But, if you say so..."

With that, Doc trots over, turns around, and plops her rear down onto Dom's couch. Although there's some initial discomfort and some paranoia of creepy-crawlies in the cushions, she's mostly content.

"There. I'm here. I'm... Oh, this is actually kinda comfy."
>> No. 40762656
"Mmmmhmm...I should probably replace it soon....when I get enough I'll probably buy a new house."
>> No. 40762660
"When you get enough? By that, do you mean when Lunacy pays you back your 80 grand?" she says, chuckling a little. "Also, if you do end up buying an entire house, everyone in the gang is probably going to want to crash there, too, so keep that in mind."

"...Speaking of crashing, I really, really don't feel like going back to our bar," she says, grabbing the soda she left by the couch and taking a sip.
>> No. 40762670
File 142225082441.png - (156.24KB , 900x1439 , YES I HAD SEX FOR THE 18 TIME.png )
"Ohh, no one would know if I bought a new hour or something~" Dom took his empty soda can and threw it across the room trying to get it into the trash can "Well, if that's the case you can take the bed and I can sleep on the couch."
>> No. 40762687
"You wouldn't tell anyone?" she asks, quirking a brow. "...Mmm. I guess being alone is nice, sometimes. That, and you don't want people shitting up your house. Or, worse, trying to hide there when the cops are on their tail."

"And, well, I don't like the idea of kicking you out of your own bed. But, uh..."

She looks down at the couch and grimaces. "...You know what, just keep your bed, I'll just find something to use as a pillow and take a nap on the floor."
>> No. 40762693
File 142225316824.gif - (577.75KB , 500x282 , Kiddo and Sammiewhich.gif )
"Naaah, come on. I'm a big colt, and I'm trying to work on being a better host. If that's a host-ish thing to do...Eh, it is now. Deal with it."
>> No. 40762695
"You just told me to deal with it. But I'm the one that just kinda showed up and ate your food. And now you're telling me to take your bed, too."

"Dom, you are a very confusing individual."
>> No. 40762698
"I never got good grades and my judgement on the battle feild is terrible...whatcha expect~?"
>> No. 40762700

He takes a moment to swipe your creds over his computer: wonder of wonders, it's got a built-in scanner, just in case you should think to cross him. After the scan checks out, he nods and holds out his foreleg, tilts the scanner to you, and nods towards your saddlebags. He clearly wants you to swipe your phone over it, for to enable the information transfer. Assuming you do, he quickly places the contacts pre-baked into your folder, and bids you depart with a nod.


At the mention of Icefang, one of the other dragons perks up. This one looks like the sort who'd know him: skinny hind legs, huge forelegs, dull grey scales, faded blue underbelly, and fangs so long it's obvious that they haven't been filed down in at least two years. He's a real mafioso looking type; and if appearances alone weren't enough to tell you that, a moment later he shows you the underside of his left forepaw; and there on his central pad, a small Giacravatta emblem has been tattooed. Just seeing it makes your knees weak, imagining the pain of having such a thing laid on you--but fortunately he hides it quickly.

"I'm in with Icefang's group. He's a capo up near my old boss."

"Thank you."

No shock this time. That's something of a pleasant surprise--but you're aware that's just the calm before the storm. That's the thing about torturers--they're always in it for their sick kicks. Whether or not you tell them something, they always find some way to fuck you in the end. At least this way you can be mildly fucked and gently burnt instead of incredibly fucked and deep-fried and dead. That's definitely preferable.

The next question, though--that's a curveball.

"Please name the colors you see, in the order they appear. If you do not, I will shock you with increasing severity. We will repeat this exercise until either you are correct, or you die."

And then a moment later, with a staticky hum that sets your ears flattening, the wall in front of you glows neon bright--it's a TV screen. For a moment there is only a stark white light, that illuminates every corner of your tiny fetid chamber, and stings your eyes to the point of reflexive tears--but then it changes to a simple confrontational red; and after some two seconds time it changes to a bright forest green; and then it changes to a dull and placid blue. A simple RGB test, like a malfunctioning computer monitor.

Last edited at Sun, Jan 25th, 2015 23:29

>> No. 40762701
"I honestly expected someone less confusing, hospitable, and quiet. Usually when kids don't finish school, they get loud, obnoxious, hard-headed, and are a hassle to deal with."

She takes another sip of her soda and holds the can out to Dom when she's done. "But you don't fit this description. ...Well, except for maybe the 'hard-headed' part, in a literal sense, but still."

"Also, is our bet still on?"
>> No. 40762715
File 142225505492.jpg - (316.87KB , 525x900 , 5493ce1baae1fbad0a02931e0c75e3e9.jpg )
"I'm pretty sure I turned off most of my life..." He shook his head a bit, giving a smirk as he looked up at the ceiling "Hmm? Uh...I remember we made one but I forgot the terms."
>> No. 40762717
File 142225513878.png - (65.82KB , 198x370 , Get your ass over here.png )

What the fuck is this...?

>Carnage says out loud as the colors pass before the screen with such blinding brilliance that the mare is forced to turn her head away from its sheer brilliance. She knew what this was from the outset, the Old Man had seen to it that she would be prepared when her torturers would try this trick on her. And though she might've forgotten the actual name of what was being done to her, the concept was clear enough that she could very much be aware of the technique they were using. As they flashed the colors in front of her, Carnage would tell them what she saw, the torturer would then shock her for having told them the wrong colors and would then tell her which colors he wanted to hear her say. When she, the victim, would lash out in rage, they would just shock her again and repeat once more which colors they wanted her to say as the colors went by. They would repeat this formula until she either bent to their will or died. One notable side effect of this technique was that, on top of gaining the victim's compliance and submission, the torturer would morph the victims view of the world to better fit what the torturer would want them to see.

Are you seriously doing what I think you are?

Goddamn, you guys are going to break ALL the pony right laws aren't you.

From torture to brainwashing... you think you'll get me to say what you want me to when we both damn well know that the fucking colors are Red, Green, Blue?

>> No. 40762736
"Our bet? Oh, lemme think," she says, scratching her chin. "I remember, we were talking one day, and I mentioned how quiet you were or something. Then you made a bet. For every secret I manage to squeeze out of you, you owe me two thousand credits. Whenever you get the money, that is."
>> No. 40762740

.....Shit.....shiiiiiiiit that's right." DOm starts to sweat
>> No. 40762743
Suddenly, as the moment passes, the doctor has the smuggest of smug smiles on her face.

"I think someone's goose is cooked," she mutters, trying to contain her giggles.
>> No. 40762751
File 142225648045.png - (752.46KB , 2104x2167 , I'd ship it.png )
"I'm pretty sure I didn't spoil any secrets of mine. Nope. Not a one. Don't listen to my past self. He's a bad guy." He looked left and right giving an awkard chuckle
>> No. 40762767
File 142225767887.jpg - (942.32KB , 1600x1200 , blame-killi-kiberpank.jpg )
Of course Amos would do such, already giving him the money. He held his phone over the scanner, getting all the info he needed. It was done quickly and quietly, as anyone with any brains would want it.

After all the info transferred, he looked over, scanning the info with his eyes before seeing it was all there. He didn't bother say anything more. It was not necessary. All that there was left to do now was to start what he was putting his money into. So Amos nodded to the stallion before walking off, out of the club.

There was a lot for him to do now. Several phone calls he needed to make. Several ponies he had to review, seeing how everyone had different specialties and preferences. And on top of all else, he needed to start making money as quickly as he could, even if it meant going a few nights without sleep. The stallion who provided him with this information proved to be quite useful despite his attitude. It was both annoying, but efficient all the same. Maybe it came with being in this industry for so long. Who knew?
>> No. 40762769
"...Right. So, past Dom was a bad guy. Maybe there was something in that taco he gave me. Or maybe he put the bug in the couch just to scare me. Maybe the bug was poisonous. Maybe he spiked my drink with something..."

She scoots a bit closer to Dom, the smug smile still on her face. "You're hiding something. And I wanna know what."
>> No. 40762775
File 142225799074.png - (250.16KB , 1280x1893 , Pear finds her long lost twin.png )
"...Man. You're just setting me up to be some sort of cool guy with an insanely crazy back story...." He rubbed his hooves together for a moment, thinking how his story is pretty lack luster "Plus! Uh, wasn't that bet in a certain time frame?"
>> No. 40762781
"Nnnnnnope," she says, her voice thick with sadism. "You're not getting out of it that easy, buster. You had a deal. We made a deal. I can take as long as I want~!"

She pulls away from Dom, a shit-eating grin still plastered on her face. "And I plan on taking my sweet, sweet time. And then I'll probably know you better. And then I'll mock you when you finally slip."

"Unless, you know, you actually want to talk..."
>> No. 40762783
File 142225924242.png - (261.14KB , 800x775 , Schmoopie doo.png )
"Pfff? talking about me? Nah." Dom moves his hindlegs in a way to allow himself to scratch his knee almost. Thinking about how much of a disappointment it'd be for Doc to just find out he was a loser who spent most of his life wasting away. God. Just thinking about it makes him happy he took this life style "Beeeesides...if we're going to do this for money, how about we do that whole organ reaping thing a try before prying at secrets....unless you'd like to spill a bit more on your end?" Dom's hoof wiggled a bit at her, smirking
>> No. 40762784
Doc seems amused at Dom's gesture. And, by now, her cheeks must be getting a little sore from smiling so much. She sits back on the couch, faces Dom, and cocks an eyebrow.

"Oh, me? Well, then, try me. What do you want to know? I doubt there's anything about me that would surprise you, but I'll play along."
>> No. 40762785
File 142225981313.png - (308.98KB , 1500x1500 , What is in my mouth.png )
"Pff....I dunno...I'm not so good when it comes to asking questions about ones life....Haven't done it with the others either...." Dom stroked his chin, remember how much of a 'rather be far away from co-workers unless it's work' kinda guy. He thought for a moment or two about what he should ask that probably won't offend her ...

"...Have more then one kid?"
>> No. 40762786
And in this way you sleep the night away, in relative bliss--as close as you can get in a prison, anyway.


"Stakes up from last time, guys. Five thousand for their cutie marks, and a week in solitary if you kill em!"

Those are the words that the guard shouts behind you, as he shoves you into the showers. At once, the atmosphere within the corridor changes: the camaraderie-tinged indifference suddenly turns to deathly serious focus, and the soft murmurs of fraternization are replaced with a cold and unforgiving silence. In the first leg of the corridor alone, there are no fewer than twelve ponies watching you--some from the snakeskins, going by the scale tattoos on their forelegs, and others from gangs you don't recognize. None of them are your assailants from before--but unless you act fast, things are going to get a lot worse than they were then.

"Thank you. That is correct."

The screen goes black, and the dank and miserable silence of the room regains its chokehold on your senses. In this way you are left still and uncomprehending for some thirty long seconds. What in el fuckadidaleedoo was that about.

"Were those lights comfortable, or would you prefer them dimmer?"
>> No. 40762787
"Kids? No, just Lee," she says, shaking her head. "I wouldn't be able to handle more than one boy. Hell, I don't think I'd even want to, concerning I wasn't even supposed to have Lee in the first place. And he was damn near impossible to take care of by myself, too. And he ate so much. I thought he was going to wind up plump and fat before he even got out of elementary school. Somehow, though, he managed to not get fat. Lucky kid and his metabolism..."

"But, no, just the one. Sixteen years old, he is."
>> No. 40762789
File 142226097041.png - (94.00KB , 287x402 , wah.png )


>No but seriously, what the fuck? What happened to the electricity and shocks? What happened to the torture and weird mind bending psychology that would inevitably lead to Carnage's desire to die rather than bend to these fuckos? Had she gotten it all wrong and that this was just some sort of weird and very in debt sight test?

Buddy... you damn near blinded me with those lights.

If you could tune it down a notch I'd appreciate it.

>Was what she said in utter bewilderment as she still struggled to register the turn of events.

Hell, if you could let me down from here I'd be a -lot- more comfortable.
>> No. 40762791
"Don't suppose you have any way to get a message to him? I think he'd help me out if he knew I was in here."

He glances over the others, rumbling as his blood trickles down across his scales. "Anything about the others I asked about?"
>> No. 40762870
File 142228974745.png - (98.69KB , 900x877 , What are you lookin at.png )
Being led from the comfort(?) of his cell to the rather unspacious and cramped area of the recreational showers, Swiftwing wasn't sure what to expect, remaining silent as to avoid further beatings, he was finally up to feeling ready to defend himself and he didn't have to even second guess if Umi were. He was ready to see what would happen... remembering what they had discussed before about not immediately jumping onto one of the croonies who had jumped them before, he hoped Umi would remain calm... and so it didn't seem to come into play at all, none of the ponies from before were there. Of course, ringing through Swiftwings ears was the mention of the 10x increase on their bounty, but sensing the mood shift of the room, Swiftwing rather quickly put on a serious face, looking across the room, as if almost daring (though would probably hope not) to be jumped. He leaned over and whispered, "I'm with you here... but just try to stay close with whatever happens." he advised.
>> No. 40763019
File 142229878017.png - (95.40KB , 680x656 , Suck em boy.png )
"Yeaaah...he was really small, but I'd figure that's cause he was 16 and all...didn't take him for one who ate a lot..." Dom gave a small laugh as she finished talking, though stopped after a moment and said "I'd say you did a good job for a single mom alone....after all, like you said he wasn't apart of the plan..."
>> No. 40763416
File 142231137052.png - (148.80KB , 378x395 , test me.png )
Umi awoke that day with a slow, languid stretch, and continued his newly developed ritual of pacing. His legs felt better, much better. He wouldn't have to accept a beating today, without a hell of a fight. He was quiet, as they bound Swiftwing and himself, and walked them to the rec area. As the door closed, and the new stakes were called out, a thin smile crossed his muzzle.

Five thousand credits. That would provoke a few ponies to try their luck. He'd have to be waiting and ready for them. Eyes sharp and ears perked, he took a look around the rec area, seeing if he could spot anything of use. A pony getting a little to close, something that could be used to fight back, anything to help give him a leg up on an attacker.

1d10 = 5
Wasn't sure if it was needed or not. Now lets see that 10!

Turning his gaze down to Andrew, the mountain of a stallion gave a soft, cold smile. "I'll stay close...but stay sharp. I can't promise that I will discern between friend and foe around me, if a fight breaks out..." With that, he looked back to the others. His fur bristled, as much as it could under the water, the pegasus simply waiting, as he looked. Let them come and try to claim the bounty. He wondered how much any of these other pony's cutie marks would fetch...or their heads.
>> No. 40763483
"I am sorry for your discomfort, but releasing you from confinement is not within test parameters at this moment. Your complaint has been noted and will be implemented if I am satisfied with your cooperation in the coming examination.

"I have chosen a darker color palette. You should have an easier time looking at them. Please describe the colors I am about to show you as best you can."

As misguided as to the point of "torture and brainwashing" as the strange stag might be, he's not quite misguided enough to unshackle you yet. More's the pity, really; he doesn't sound very strong, even over a loudspeaker. You could probably feed him his own spinal cord without too much effort; but it seems that you will have to bide your time and wait for the opportunity to present itself.

In a moment's time, the television screen flashes on again--this time a much duller and more muted shade of white, that doesn't so much as make your eyes water, let alone cause them any particular pain. You are able to look at it quite plainly; and a moment later the image changes. Purple. Blue. Red. Orange. Red. Yellow. Green. Aardvark. Muffin. Bullets. Underside of a griffon's paw. Underside of a dragon's paw. Shell casing of a .556 round being loaded into a Kessler OM2. Pink. A thin band of nylon wrapped around a ponytail. A grainy black-and-white photograph of your mother standing next to your father and a unicorn you don't recognize. Red.

It settles on the red.

"If you feel as though anything is wrong with the projection, please let me know."

The others shake their heads in unison; and Icefang's contact, for his part, collects a drop of blood from your gash and softly licks it off his toe. This is disturbing in many ways.

"...Yeah. I can get a message. Probably."

"...Hey! Losers! Whatcha in for?"

One of the snakeskins shouts at you, cupping his hooves around his mouth. He's an underwhelming specimen--green coat, green mane, hazel eyes, poor proportions, gaunt cheeks and visible ribs--either he doesn't eat much or he's got some kind of freakish worm infection. You'd best hope it's the former, because the latter bodes very ill for your survival prospects in this facility. He is surrounded to either side by some five others, each as gangly and underwhelming as he; and they are each of them colored differently, with their only uniting feature being their snakescale tattoos.
>> No. 40763497
"What's it to you?" Umi shot back. He wasn't even sure what he, Andrew, Igneus, and Carnage were being charged with. Murder...blowing up a police station...robbery..that was probably the short list. He wasn't even sure what else there was. Fixing his gaze on the underwhelming one, he wrinkled his muzzle, slightly. Worm infested little beast. Were these five seeking the bounty on him and Andrew? Well, he hoped so. His gaze grew disinterested, as he looked down at them, figuratively and literally. Were they worth the work to fight them? Probably not, but at that moment, all the stallion needed was a reason.
>> No. 40763539
File 142231803498.png - (87.08KB , 682x133 , Hmm.png )


>So that was their game was it, the first images had been a test to see if she could see the images properly and test her compliance before beginning the real brainwashing. Heck, the bastards had even gotten her to give them the information on adjusting the visual output of the screens so that it might be more effective to her afterwards. The man had also mentioned that all of this was a test, a test that probably went towards the weaponizing of her self and the perfecting of the clones she had already fought against. So, given that the goals were most likely nefarious in their own right, would it then be a good idea to go along with these tests? Well, given that the alternative was that she might never get a chance to escape this prison on account of being a cripple, then all she could do was play along for now. Hell, as long as she could know that their aim was to brainwash her then she should be able to stop it from happening... right?

Well for one thing your techies fucked up because a lot of those images weren't color plates at all but images onto themselves.

Hell, I even think I saw a small clip of a shell being loaded into artillery for a second there.

So... what, you want me to tell you what I see or the colors in the complex images?
>> No. 40763549
File 142231860898.png - (84.09KB , 865x924 , ___.png )
Swiftwing nodded up to Umi's response, mimicking the smile, before his attention was taken to the gang of 6. It honestly took a bit of restraint to say 'Yeah, what's it to you??' but thankfully he didn't... Celestia that sound lame in his head, instead he added with a flat expression, "Look, don't even think of fucking trying anything. If you're wondering if we did some pansy flank shit and can't fight back, you're dead wrong." He closely examined each of the three, and honestly was a bit antsy to get going, he dind't like the constant threat of having a bounty out for him, he was getting quite annoyed of being looked down upon, the size always getting him picked on or counted out. This was a really good place to show he could kick some ass, gritting his teeth a bit, he held himself back, but staying quite attentive, and ready to jump.

Last edited at Mon, Jan 26th, 2015 17:32

>> No. 40763589
"I'd like to say I did a good job," she says, reaching up to rub her forehead. "I got plenty of help from my family, though. They helped pay for food, they helped me get my degree and a job, and they helped me as much as they could. They kept me going for a while. Until recently, anyway. When they decided they weren't going to put up with me anymore, things started going downhill pretty fast, I ran out of money and options, and next thing I know, I'm talking to some blue robo-horse that I was told to meet."

"I really wish I didn't have to get into this whole mess, much less drag Lee down with me."
>> No. 40763725
File 142233114985.png - (558.45KB , 1276x910 , Carmel apple.png )
Dom gave her a few nods, sympathizing for her as he too had to get dropped off from his family and forced to fend for himself..but it was something that was a must it sounds like, for most atleast. "Right...Well, hey. If you don't give money to your leader with out an idea of when you're going to get your money back, or blow your money. Then I think you'll be fine."
>> No. 40763830
File 142233537166.jpg - (242.49KB , 2478x2900 , Bks7Euu.jpg )
One of the ponies that would be sitting by him would be rather shorter stallion, Amos. He was drinking shots of vodka next to Salsa. It was pretty clear to him that this pony wasn't having a good time. Many ponies came to the bar for the same reason- whether it be a bad break up or just being stuck on the average job and starting to lose their minds just thinking about going back the next day, they came here to relieve some of the stress through a rather taking relationship with alcohol. A story like that wouldn't fit better anywhere else better than it did here, in the Warrens. While Club Lucious was sought after those who really wanted a good time, this place was more suiting to those who wanted a more quiet experience to deal with whatever issues that they may have. This is what Amos saw... and it was rather easy for him to see it.

So what he did, not wanting to push himself onto the stallion next to him, wasn't what anyone would expect.

"... rough day, eh?"

Okay, so it might be the most basic a conversation starter could ever be, but that was all that was needed to be said between Amos and Salsa, as they barely knew each other, and Amos was never one to let his voice overstay it's welcome.
>> No. 40763913
File 142233808164.png - (31.36KB , 419x564 , salsa.png )
Salsa was about done with his cider. The glasses is almost defrosted. Salsa picked up his cup and downed the rest of it. He silently burped and motioned the bartender to give him another. That is what he always done, drunk cider before he got into the hard liquor that he enjoys. Salsa got a new cider when a the shorter pony spoke to him. Salsa raised an eyebrow at him and took drink out of the cider glass. "More like a week."
>> No. 40763988
File 142234034868.jpg - (113.14KB , 1064x664 , intersect.jpg )
"That you have seen either is sufficient. We are merely testing the facility's ability to display high-resolution images at intense speed, and your ability to recognize them.

"You may feel some slight dizziness looking at this next image. Please describe it to me, and the test will be concluded."

It is difficult to describe what happens next in any written language, because there is no written language capable of describing some two hundred separate events at exactly the same time. But the image that assault your eyes first is, quite simply, a video of a crane. It stands with its bright blue feathers catching the sunlight, precariously balanced on one leg in the shallows of a gently-rippling pond; and as it stretches one wing, it turns its massive orange bill towards the camera. Then the video ends. But within those 2.5 seconds of film there were contained--somehow--a plethora of information: the serial number on a Swhinny Beesting and the murder investigation it's connected to, the badge number of the police officer who solved the murder, Ṭ̱̭̳h̖̝e̩̭̦̭͈̞̱ ͙͚̙̟c͖͍̗̯̯̝̱o̬m̖̬͇͚̹̬̹p̝͎̺l͇̹̹̹e͉̯t̞͚̼e͎̼̠̻̺̰̝ ͔͈̣̜͙̖c̘̝a͇̖̱̰st̫̠̖ ͈l̗͈̘͉̣i͔s͖t͔͚̫̺̥͔ ̞ọ̹͇̳̱f̝͍ ͚̼̯͈̣͖̼The ͏co͡mple̡te̛ ̢c͢ąst l҉i҉st ̸o͠f̶ B͠rày̶ ͜We҉st's ̨"So͜m̴e͞ L͡i͡k̛e to̷ T́r͞ǫt"͢ Th҉e͜ ́t͞e͡ch̢n͠ic͡a͠ļ sp̶e͢cifìcat̷io̕n̶s͞ ̴o͏f ̶a Ra̢c͠er Mot͘or͠s Bla̴sţmáste̶r ͟ęngine T̤̰͍̥h͈̖̜͉e̝̮̟̤̺̫̙ ͇͔͉c̲o̺͇̫͎͈͉̪m͇̼̠̱̣̦p͎̬̗̞̱̰͕l̳͇͚̝͚̯̮e̤̜͎̮͈͍ͅt̥̱͔̣̹̝̤e p͕̯͚a̫͇̮t̝̝c̲͉̳h͕̬̦ ̠͎̥n̬͙̤o̫̰̪͈̼ͅt̫͖͈e̙̺̦̟͎̘̖s͎̜̝̹̖ ̗̮̥o̦͎͚̗̜f̳͍̭̦͔ ̹P͉̮͙̰͎l̖͉̰͎̣a͎̹͔̲̝̱̘y̭̰g̙r̫̟͎̞̘̺o̪̲̬̫u̠̫͎̙̳̠n̯̖̻̫͇d̲̰̙ ͓̣o̱f̳̪͚̰ ̤̟͉t̫h͙̖̙̟͉͎̱ḙ̞͈͇̩ ̖̗G͙̹̗̮̣̭̭o͎̲d͕̠̲̭̠s̞͇ ̜̗̺̮̖͇c͓̗͎̟̹̟h͙͈͍̖̥̪ͅa̩m̩̳̖p̜͔̜̤̫iọ̳̤̳͖ͅn̦͓̮̼̯̻ ̟͓̪̟̺̘̪Z͈͕̪̦̝̟ͅe̩ṇit̮h̠̜̠ ̺͚͍̫T̮̪h̖̥e̠̮̖ ̥̯̣̘ͅen̘̦̼t͕̣̟̬̼̲͙i̦̥r̲̥͓e͍̝̪̼̻ ͓̯͎ͅf̪̟̞̠͚̲̝i̱rst̳̘̱̳ ̭͈̺c͉̱̙̰h̲̬̪̤̖̹͕ap̘͙̘̟̱̳̫t͙e̜͓̝̲r͉ ͔̠̤͓̳̬o̪̺̰̱̲f̦̤̳͈̝͕͓ ͖̟͍̫Pa̝͓̖̜͔ṛa̻͙̺͖d͉̝̘̬̼i̥̖̣̹͇̫̘s̭e̳̳͙͇ M̥͇̱̥̜̮i̟̥͙̤͍̰̲s͍̗̟̮̼p̰̤̬l͉̘̹͍͈̮a͙̻c̻̥͚̲̖̥̼ed̹͕͎̙̮ ̤The͈͇̘̯͍̱ͅ ͎ly̜̘̭r͇͇̟͓ic̜s̪̪͖̟̲ ͉̩̹̭t̩̪͉͕̤̱o̙̪̪ ̼̦̰̳̠̝̥"̝̭̯̣̗͈mo͓̝̦̺̬̫de̝̭͕̦r͔̟̱̜̮̖͉n͖ ̥̩̞͖͈m̦͚̱̙̙a̭̣j̱̲o̪̣r̪͔̯͖͖̘ ̦͈̠̟gḙ̭͈̱̟̰̲n̯e̫͉͔̗r͉̫͇̖̮a̭͕͉ḽ̠͍̰̘"̦̹̺͔̬̮ A̳͉͓͔͔͓ͅ ͕Ce͇̯̣̙̥ͅl͍̟̫̙e̹̩̟͈̩͈ͅs̝t͈i̦͕͚̫a͍̜̹̫n ͎͖̱͙̟ͅs̫e̬r̦̭͚̙m̮̻o̖n̬̳̪̦͍̼ f̜̤̞̠̖r̟̙͔̜̥o̱̻͕͚m͙̮̣̞ ̦͉̘̥̰5̠̥̬͇4͍͔̘͙͉-̖̫̘̥̟͚͎6̣̮͙̜̹A͉̯̱̜͍̖̟ ̞̩T̼͎̱h̟̺͇̠̹͇̥e̦̫̱̱͓ ̪̹̘͙͕̱2͚̠̪͙̥3̜̱̘̺-̯̫̱̦̙̦͕6̙̱̭͎̠̣̘A̬͍̦̖͔ͅ ͓̘p̯͙̥la͖y͕͎̟̟̗̣͓c͚̥̜o̗̯͈̜l̘̬̮t̟̫̞ ̪̬s͕̫̥̬̪̭ͅw̰̭͇i̬͉͇m̼̰̖s̰͕̩͙͔u̳̝i͈̰̪t̯̲ ͍̰̟ͅc͙͍͓͈a̤͇̯̝ͅl̟͕͎̟̙e̲͖n̖̣͓͙̮̗͉d̻̙̰̩͕a̭̣͇r̲ ̣̖͎̹̙T̬̺͙ḫ̞̦̖̯̙e̠͉̲̭̦͔̳ ̙nu͈t̯̥͈r̼̬͍̠i̬ti̮̱̞̯o͚n͎̗̭̦̪̠͎ ̰̰f̩a̻̩ct̤̜̙͔͕s̗͎̙̺̟̼̦ ̙̲̥͖͕̝̱o̖̬͖ͅf̱͓̜̭̞f̗͕̻̼̪ ̭̳̭of͔̞̱ S̻u͖͇n͚̮l͍͍͙͕̘i̜k̟t͙̞̘ ̖̝͓ṣ͚o͕̳d̻a͓̳̖ ̪̘p̯̩͇̮e̫̲͇͓̱a͉͓͔̯̭͙̙c̞h͖̻̗̬̥ ͈fl̳̙̼̺a̖̺͎͈͕̫v̜̝̼͍͉̮̭o̙̲r͍̭̘̥̞ T̳͓̦̬̮h͈̙e̠ ̭͙̠̦ͅi͓̲̤̤n̻t̻̗͎͇̗͓̭ṛ͕̯̹̹o̟̫͍͚̳̞̰d̞̥͚͚̬ucti̙̝̯͚o̰͖͕͎͉̲ͅṋ̣̺̞̼̜̞ ͎t̹̹͇͔͈o̫̱ t̤͚̮h̪͙̱͈e̦̞̺̪̘͔ ̖au̫̝̦̖͓t̳̜̝̘̘o̺̝̱̱̮̙̯b̖̭̣̖̪͓̻i͕̣̼o͔̖g͙̪̫̼̫͚ͅr̻̥̹a͇ph̦̝͓̪͓̼̖y͍͉̪͈ ̞o̪̤̤f͇͓͚̯̜̠ ̦̠EW͉E̤̘ ̰̺s̼̟̖̪͚̦u̜̱̠̞̳͖p͙̭̻̩̫e͔̣̮͓̥r̼̪̙̜̪͖s̗̘̮̱̳̜t̖̠̬̖͕a̲̘̦̳͉̘͙r͈̲͕̳̜̫ ͎͇̗̯͉̫R̟̼̤͙ḙ̻a͎̙͍̞̘ͅl̟̫͕ ̰B̠͉̳͍̺̦̤i̟̺̙̫͙̹g ̮̪̘͍̻̭D͎͚ḙ̻̜̤̘a̗̭͕̥͕l ͉̤̙̮T̯͚͓̲͇͍h̻͓͚͙e̲̫̮ ̜̭̫̭̜̱̦o̱̲̱v͖̳e͕̬͉̯͇͉ͅṛh͓̲͕̙̘e̗a͎̦̜d ͔͇m̲a̭̜̦̩p̜͚̳̻̪ͅ ̬̲͔̲̮̫ọ̬͎͖f̦͎̠̳͉̼͍ ̥͍͔N͈u̗͉̭k̠̥͔e̖͉̪͇ͅt͍̰̙͎̮̘͔o͉̟̰̺̯͎ͅẉ̣̗̩̩͓̟n͓̳͚̰ ̙̙̙̯ͅf̜͍̲r̝̦̗oͅͅm̮̙ ̙͍͙̲F̹̜̘͔͔I̱S͚H̩̰̞̣ͅ ̠̗̰D̳̺e͔͓̱͓ͅn̠̰̻͔ͅi̹a͔b̙͖͖lḛ̩̙͔ ̫̘̙̲̣O̥͍ͅp̱̱ͅs̳͚̝̙ ̗͉̝̮̲A̖̱͎ͅ ̻c̱͖o̲͇̪̰̲̭̟m̲ple̥̥̼t͉͎e͎̫ ̰̝͉̖̯r͙̬e͍̱p̜̩̖͕̖͇͉ṛ̩̱̤͓͉o̲͍̣͉d̟͕̬̼͇̞̯u͓̬͖͚̘̫c̯̜t̰̹̲̻io͔̜̙n o͉̼̩ͅf͉ ̣̬̝1͙̲̣̲̙.̮͔͓͕͍̖1͔̝5̣̜͉̩̫ ̮m͎̯̖̱͕i̞͖̳̜l̮͔̹̝e̬̣͖͍s̹͖͔ ̘̗̠͎̙ọ͓̘f͙ ̘t̼̰h̹̺̟e̮̺̜͚̲̜̜ ̥̻͈̲C̱̘̱̝̣͔͍a̙̩͚͉n͍͇̰͖͚t̪̱̩͈ͅe̱̪̟̙̠ṛ̹͕̫̖̙̰l̯̫͈͖͔̤̮o̥̭t̩̝ ͙̣̙͉͔̯̪u̻͓nd͕̝ͅe͕̙͚̝̫͉r̳̫g͙r̖̻̲͓̤͕͚o̤̯u̲͉͈̘͚̝͕nd̳͉̫͚̩ ̗̖An̳̺̥ ̠̹͎͖̠ul͇̹͈t̳̹̖͕r̺͎̱̦͎a̙̻̲̪̝̬͇s͚̦͍̖͍͕͔o̙ṳ͚̠n̻̣̭d̥̥͓͕͈̼̳ ̙͕͖̲̯̟m̠̤̖ͅa͔̞̝̦̙p̱̮̖ ̺͓o̜͙͇̩̤f̻̮̫͉ ͙̖̱̩̗M̖̤͔i̹l͚̣̭̮e̦s̰͎͚͉̗̰ ̗̤̠̖̩̹ͅC̣̟̺̲̖y̖pru̜̞̝̤͕̬s̯'̠͇̯̰̮̺̭s̭̗̲͓̱͎ ̖̘̭v̬̟̳̠̪ͅa͍͈̝g̞̯̭̙̖̮i̖͖̰͉͕n͖͖͉̺͎̝a ̭̤͎̩A̦̲͕̤̱ͅ ̻̬r͎e͙̗͇p̥͈̜̥̩͓̠r̝od̼͔̜̼u̳̜̖̭̰͖͖c̩̰͓t̼̖̞i͚o̹̦̩̼̬n͇̪̭̺̰̫ ̘̼o̖͇̩͚͕f̜ ̥̳̮̖̮"͓̰͙͚͔ͅO̱͔̱n͇͓̪̖͓ ͍̰̝M̼̰̮̞ag̥̜͎̱i̹̼̤̱c̦̫̺͔"̬ ͙̹̮̪͎̯f̗̲̱͚̻̰ṟ̼o̗̭m̩͇̪̟̼̲̹ ̪̞̰̯̲̜͉S̠e̬̗̠̙r̦̱̠̙p̝̣͖̜͔̫e̯n̯̭t̪͕̣̺̦ͅi̟n̯̤e ̯̝͓̭E͇r͈̭͔͙͙̞a͍̭̯̠ ̱̹̜a̻ͅ ͕̠͙̬̗͙̰p̱͍̘͍̲̻hot̰͓̣oc͎̞o̮̪̮p͈̫y̤̞̬̝͍̬͎ ̟̙̙o͙͚̼͇̤f̱̜̖͔̲̘̤ ̼̼͍ͅt͓h̼̜̦̖e͖̬͙̱̟ͅ ̭͚̗̤͇ͅN͎e͔̪̣cr̰͈̰̫o̬̦̱̝̭͎ṉo͈̼̱̳̠͇̰m͙i̜̩̞c̖̥̖̣̠͙̰o̙̤͎̣̰n͉͕̱̮̭̖̠ ̘̫͚̯̰a͚̫̗̳͙ͅ ̣̙̟̥͙̥d̩̝̯̺͇̥͇i͈͖̱ͅag̘̹̙̱͚͉r̥͇͍͇̥͓̫am̞͙̘ ̯o͈͍͇̹̥̦̼f ͍̝̙ͅͅa̟̰̗͈̠̼͕ G̬̼̼͎͖3̯̪͖͖̤͈̤0͕'̠̟͖͉s̟̥̻͖̗ͅ ͙̫̱̩̥̖b̻͙͙͉͖̖̥o̳̩l͖̱̭̻t͕̙̫͇̖̳ͅ ͚͖a̟̞̻͚c̩͎̘̪͙̳̳ti͓̻͓̙̝ͅo̜̼̗͎n͕̹̮͚̥̹ ̟̠t̻͖̞̳̟̖̪h̟e͙̖̠̮͕͎ ̜̲̣͎̩̠̱r͔͇̖e̲c̰̼͓̹͚̼̠i̪̘̼̘̹͎͍p͖̖̭͚̪̖͕e͇̘̱̳͔̩ͅ ̱f̯͎͚͚o̥̺̻ͅr̹͚̺̠̜ ͚͇̲a̰̼͍͔̰ͅ ̘̠̟̲͈c͖̝͔̗̲u͎̫̦p o̮̟̞f ̯̘͎Lo̺n͔̭ͅg͕ ̮̜̳̮S̲͖͇̗͍t̘͓͓͚͉͇r͇̱o̮̟͚̻̟n̝g͉̤̻ ̥g̪͎͔̞͙̣in͍̮̰̦̠g̯̫̞e͇̥͖̤̠̣͍r̩̣̼̙ ̫al͓͓̼͈̟̹e̼ ͕M̻a̭̝̥̟t̠͚͉̫͖̦c͓̜̞̥h͙̲̮̖i͎n͔̤͔̘̤g͎̦̹͓͔͍͙ ̣̜͉̳̫̻s̰̟͚̣̝a͔̪͈̥̳͎͖l̻̱̯̬̖͚t ̻̥͕̺a̠̳̖̤̳̞̗ṇd̦ ̗̹͙̤̭̫̣p̱̞̪̜̭̠̺e̖p͎͈pe̺̝r̤̗̯̙͖ ͉̥s͉̦͖̹̲ḥ̯͖a̪̬̝̥k̹e̥̘r͍̙̜s̖̺͉͓̞


You wake with a gasp, staring face-up at the ceiling. Something beneath your wings itches--upon closer inspection, you realize it's a plastic bag, filled with six chocolate and creme sandwich cookies.


The six of them look at each other in silence, and then look at you. They look at your hooves, and then they look at theirs; they look at your muzzles and your forelegs and your flanks, and then they look at the same on themselves. They're very unsubtly comparing you--the six of them versus the two of you, that's the scenario they're playing out in their head.

"...Get em!"

And then they charge you at a gallop. The problem with looking like Brock Lesneigh is that sometimes you sound like Brock Lesneigh.
>> No. 40763991
"I just need him to be able to pass on that I'm in here and not dead to a mutual acquaintance. And that I'd appreciate his personal assistance in... rectifying the first part of that situation."

He grimaces at the sight of the drake with his blood, but flashes a conspiratory grin all the same. "I'm sure he'll be nearly as grateful as me to whoever helps pass that along."
>> No. 40763997
File 142234069620.png - (1.96MB , 2000x1767 , dive bomb by Lustrous-Dreams.png )
Swiftwing's grin only widens, ears ringing out to the call of their attack. Looking for the smallest, or perhaps one of the more weaker ones, Swifting takes a leap and jump off of Umi's back, giving a rather flashy flip through the air and swinging a hoof down right onto the head of- well any one really- but preferably one he could possibly take out in one hit.
1d10 = 7 target 4 (for hit, base 5)
1d10 = 5 target 4 (for +3 damage)
+2 for in range of Umi
>> No. 40764019
File 142234180810.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
Umi grinned, his body tensing, as he prepared to charge the group. Feeling the smaller stallion leap off his back, the mountain of a pegasus followed, grabbing the first pony he saw, and attempting to, unceremoniously, slam their body into the wall of the rec area. He was silent, as he fought, the stallion simply aiming to inflict as much pain as possible. As he did, his smile faded, falling into a near unreadable mask. This was what hid behind his mask, during their missions. Cold, heartless, and cruel. He didn't have an ax with him, but making them regret their decision would suffice, for now.

5d10 = 31
>> No. 40764113
File 142235825756.png - (63.05KB , 674x135 , Oh god.png )

...Hooooooly shit...

>Were the first words out of Carnage's mouth as she stared at the screen in front of her with a look of absolute horror as far too much information came into Carnage's brain all at once. All of it was so much, too much for her to articulate or coherently respond to before her brain simply shut down leaving her in blissful unconsciousness with her brain getting the chance to process everything it had learned at a much slower pace.

>When she woke up Carnage groggily looked around herself to note that she was in a room she did not recognize. Great... another new place she was brought to whilst unconscious. At this rate, she started to feel like a puppy that needed sedating before it could be brought anywhere and she reall- OH GOD WHY DID SHE KNOW WHAT THE ULTRASOUND TO MILES CYPRUS'S VAG WAS LIKE!?

>With drawing horror, Carnage realized that she knew a lot more than she had before, and that all that shit they'd shoved into her head was somehow still very fresh as far as memories went. What the hell kind of machine was that when it could just shove information into your head like that and... just how dangerous could it be if used for propaganda or brainwashing?

. . .

>With these turbulent thoughts rushing through her head, Carnage awkwardly reached out for the cookies that had been left out for her. Guilitily, she began to nibble on the snacks as their sugary sweetness and creamy texture made her feel better... if even a little.

Last edited at Tue, Jan 27th, 2015 04:31

>> No. 40764811
File 142240864329.png - (151.92KB , 1000x1000 , whargble.png )
Lunacy was augmented out the ass, perhaps somewhat literally, but even with all the mind-altering shit he had inflicted on himself - Technological Ascender for life - he still suffers in the effects of not sleeping as much as you should, just like everyone else.

So that's what he was doing, flopping about almost pathetically in the basement of their bar, trying his hardest to get up and actually do something - and being eternally thankful nobody could actually see him doing it.

Finding himself on the edge of the pillow and still unable - or rather, unwilling - to get up, Lunacy decides to compromise. He didn't have to actually get up and do anything if he was sitting down here, making important phone calls to figure out how they're gonna do their next job. Masterful plan, he thought to himself.

So that's what he does. Grabbing his phone and giving their Nightguard... 'friend' a call. Maybe this time he'll actually go with them. Probably.

"Tempest, you butt..." He trails off, loudly yawning as he opts to fall back into the big-ass pillow that resided in the basement or whatever of their bar - hey, that thing was at least three times as big as the door, how did it even get IN here? "Y'ever been to Cloudsdale?"
>> No. 40764859
File 142241385026.jpg - (51.07KB , 1280x800 , oldboy2.jpg )
"You want to rectify that you're not dead?"

The grey dragon looks more than a little confused by this, until the light of a dawning realization breaks over his face. It seems that he's not the cleverest of dragons; but then again, if he were, he wouldn't be in prison. With a nod, he finishes licking his paw clean, and runs it over his horns. He does so, presumably, because he knows griffons are in the habit of smoothing down their feathers in such a way, and he doesn't realize that he has no such thing.

"I mean, uh...yeah. Sure. I can get a message asking for help. Anything else? I mean, make it count, ain't gonna be easy. Or quick."


It is a common misconception among many ponies in the modern era that the proliferation of firearms and blades has rendered the simple act of hoof-to-hoof combat obsolete. It is undeniably easier to produce lethal results from a duelist or a marksman; and in certain respects it is easier to train them: this is because duelists and marksmen can take many paths to victory, through speed or grace or guile, all of which can be taught. What cannot be taught, however, is power--and within this moment, there is nothing more important than power. Power which courses through your wings as you deliver an elbow drop onto the back of a head, that sends a skull slamming into the wet tile and teeth flying into the tongue; power which fills your hind legs and vents itself through your enemy's spine as you deliver a belly-to-belly that fractures bones and splits tile; and power which a moment later makes itself felt on you as the survivors take you, two to a man, and stomp you for all they're worth.


With a sickening wet sound, a gash is torn open in Swiftwing's back, just below his shoulder--but that's far from enough to take him down. When they try the same with Umami a moment later they don't even break the skin; and though they try to drown you under weight of bodies alone, there are far too few of them for such a thing.

Mmm. Mm, yeah. That's a good cookie. Tastes like chocolate and creme--and it's not second rate, either. They're fresh and crisp and dry to the touch; hell, somebody probably ran out to the store just to buy you these. This is the kind of luxury you didn't get to experience in the pit; and come to think of it, you barely get to experience it nowadays on account of the strict diet you have to keep in this line of work.

"Hey. You're alive."

You almost start to hear Velvet's voice from beside you, some six feet away. In the dark and the cold and your disorientation, you didn't recognize your cell--not that it's easy to recognize a jail cell by roof alone, mind you. It seems things have been spruced up slightly, however: two thick red blankets lay in the middle of the floor, presumably for your use.


Tempest is quick to answer you this time, though he still hasn't stopped doing his faux-whiskey-and-cigarettes voice. Maybe you should tell him how silly it sounds one of these days.

"Yeah, I been. It's where they put me when I...

"...Look, I been, is the point."
>> No. 40764860
File 142241451375.png - (194.86KB , 1000x1000 , Why yes, I DO want to start my free trial of AOL.png )
"Oh, good."

So Tempest had been. Excellent. The how and the why hardly bothered him at the moment - though he got the feeling it might have bothered Tempest. Shouldn't be a big deal, right?

"So I'm running on an assumption that Firejack's product came out of Cloudsdale. It was either that or Ponyville an I mean, really, do they even have an airship dock in Ponyville? Anyway, on topic, we're going there, and you should really come too for a variety of reasons that should be obvious."

"Remind me, though. What do you need to make an Atomichemical Superspear? The shit you don't just buy off of the shelves at MortaMart, of course."
>> No. 40764862
File 142241562383.png - (1.67MB , 1000x1061 , kiriban_prize_for_astros440_by_dennybutt-d6smxw8.png )
Swiftwing's eyes lit up in a fit of ruthless aggression, watching the chum's head slam down. He landed back on his hooves, until he was rather promptly jumped by the two who decided to challenge him. He was far from taken down, in no way overpowered. Beginning feeling the blood begin to rush into him,
And soon down his back. A hard screech erupting from the smaller stallion, a small squirt of blood shooting from the cut.
Each beat of the heart began to flash through his vision, adrenaline quickly beginning to run through the blood, reaching a hoof back, Swiftwing felt abit of the blood, and looked at it on his hoof, he then looked up to the two, even among the beating, he slashed the blood and streaked it across his face, and began to fight back
4d10 = 18

Last edited at Tue, Jan 27th, 2015 20:30

>> No. 40764879
File 142241778921.jpg - (24.47KB , 636x358 , rta5zyn9olmzecjsfywg.jpg )
"I'd say so."

He said this out of mere speculation on the stallion's mood.

"So what's going on, stranger?" he asked, only to start a conversation in his lonesome drinking.

Amos had a lot on his plate as of right now. Missions to help out on, a business to get started. It was all a lot of work that required a lot of time. Time in which he might not have to talk to more familiar faces right now. Maybe in a shorter future he'd be able to talk to someone he'd better enjoy to be around, but for now a stranger will do. Who knows? Maybe this one won't give him a headache by simply talking to him.

Last edited at Tue, Jan 27th, 2015 21:05

>> No. 40764888
File 142241830588.png - (874.85KB , 696x696 , umi not smug___.png )
As he felt his opponents bones break, as he slammed him into the shower wall, Umi made note of the area. Broken tiles were sharp, and it could come in handy later. He grinned, letting the other pony slump to the floor, before two more piled on him. He felt the scratch, as they try to cut him open. What kind of weak, improvised weapon had they decided to try and use on him? Somehow, that just seemed to irritate him more. He had yet to notice that Andrew was bleeding, the pegasus instead focusing on the two trying to take him down. With a low, irritable growl, he attempted to simply slam them into the floor, and see if their heads were as empty as they seemed. The bloodlust was high in the former headsmen now, and he was intent on making sure it was fed.
>> No. 40764889
And because I'm a big looser.
4d10 = 27
>> No. 40764904
She can't help but giggle a little at Dom's misfortune. After a snort, she nods. "I'll try to keep that in mind. Besides, I don't have much money to give up in the first place. It's kinda why I'm here." After a short pause, she shrugs. "But, I guess you're right. I just gotta keep on my wits about things."

After that, she sinks down deeper into the couch, and rests her head on the armrest in either boredom or fatigue. Perhaps both, concerning the time.
>> No. 40764965
File 142242251890.png - (152.01KB , 1102x1162 , Kitty face.png )
Dom stayed quite for a bit, leaning back on the couch and looking out at the window before looking down at Doc, blinking a hoof ful of times before saying "Ya know, The bed is a lot more comfortable."
>> No. 40764980
"Probably, yeah," she mutters, a hint of defeat in her voice. "But I don't feel right just walking in here and taking your food, drink, and now your bed, so I don't really want to. I've already taken enough."

She brings one of her forelegs under her head to rest on. "I don't like feeling like a leech."
>> No. 40764993
File 142242513308.png - (93.01KB , 196x469 , Suspicious.png )
>So she was in her cell then, Velvet was present and healthy enough from the sound of it but with all the cream cookies crammed into her mouth and swallowed whole, Carnage had a hard time realizing what was going on still. Somehow she'd gotten into her cell after passing out but...

>Damn it, with how full her head felt with all these new ideas and concepts she was forced to learn Carnage had a hard time making any decent coherent thoughts at all.

Wha... how did they knock me out?

>She began, her voice sounding rough and dry to her own ears. But even with a cloudy head she could still focus on the most important matter that was to understand how they could control her level of consciousness.because then she could fight against it.

I just... woke up in that lab...

I need to know how they did it.
>> No. 40764995
File 142242525304.png - (261.14KB , 800x775 , Schmoopie doo.png )
"Well. Tell ya what. I'll let you sleep here on the couch, and if it botheres you, you roll my brown flank off the bed onto the floor. Deal?"
>> No. 40765006
She looks up at Dom, and it's clear she's indecisive. "It's not that the couch isn't comfy. It's just that I'm kind of scared there's another bug that'll bite me or something in the middle of the night. If I had bug spray, I might be a little better, but the thought of bugs is just incredibly unnerving for me." It's clear she's more than embarassed as she speaks.

"Also, I'd never push you off your own bed. That would be awful, and it'd wake everyone else up when you hit the floor. Besides, I don't think I could roll you the way it is, since you're so huge."
>> No. 40765011
File 142242688589.jpg - (263.23KB , 850x612 , ALGA! TITS! GET THE FUCK OUT JESUS!.jpg )
"If that's the case, just take my bed. It's fine Doc, it's only for a nice. No use trying to make a big deal of it. And don'tcha call me fat~"
>> No. 40765013
She lets out a defeated and drawn-out sigh, and looks down. "Fine. If it'll make you happy, I'll take you rbed. Just don't let me hog too much more, okay? Someone with your stature can't have much comfort on a couch like this."

"Also, I'm not calling you fat. I'm calling you big. There's a difference. You're built for performance, not for aesthetics. A lot of people don't understand that fat is healthy sometimes."
>> No. 40765080
File 142243442969.jpg - (11.27KB , 310x233 , prisonerisolatedsmall.jpg )
"First of all...I am never telling you how to make a weapon of mass destruction. But you're right, you need a lot of really hard-to-get stuff..."

He yawns into the phone and inhales. In the instant of silence that follows you can hear the sound of canned laughter and stock spring effects from somewhere in the background: if you had to guess, you'd say he's watching Equestria's Funniest Home Videos. Princesses save his soul for the horrors he has witnessed there.

"And...secondly. How does taking a joyride to Cloudsdale help us with that you-know-what on the throne? And don't say what the "you-know-what" is, someone might be listening."

Check roll20 for clash roll log. Elected to make it easier for all of us.

The fight doesn't take long from there. Like a swarm of piranha, it all goes straight to Hell as soon as blood meets the water. Almost the very instant that Swiftwing gets opened up, he takes one of the assailants' forelegs into his own and pulls him to the ground; and with a quick twist, he rolls over the fallen pony's back, cracking his femur with a pleasing crunch. Less than an instant later he's spun in place and delivered a powerful donkey kick right to the other one's jaw; both are floored and grasping broken bones within a moment. While Umami's technique is less refined, it is just as devastating: the first one doesn't even get back up from having his head slammed into the tile; and the other's feeble retaliatory strikes are quickly ended with a chop to the back of the neck.

Just like that, all six snakeskins have fallen silent on the tile, save their intermittent moans of agony.

"If I fucking knew do you THINK I would BE like this?!"

Velvet lets out a scream and hurls one of the blankets across the room. This is done exclusively because there is nothing else to hurl--it unfurls midflight and flutters gently the ground as blankets often do when thrown, and the spectacle of the moment is severely undermined by this fact. Her sentiment, however, cannot be understated.

"...I dunno. I think when you were asleep. I woke up and you were gone. Might use some kind of knockout gas, tie you up, take you away..."
>> No. 40765081
File 142243513363.png - (146.63KB , 1000x1056 , that's nice.png )
"First off, I'm almost offended that you'd think I'd actually do that."

"We're this far into finding that other fuck, and considering what we've done for him I doubt he's gonna let us go nicely, so y'know, I figure it's better to be on the offensive than the defensive. Our last two leads were... detonated and shot to death, so y'know, we gotta find something else. So here's what I say we do, we head over to Cloudsdale with a list of ponies or companies that would have the capability to handle, import, or move these sorts of hard-to-get materials, and then start hunting down the list until we find someone that knows something about it. Something like this is gonna leave a trail, and I figure it'd probably be easier to assemble it in Cloudsdale, rather than ship it from somewhere to there, and then from there to here - when they could've just taken one trip from wherever it was to here. Unnecessary risk."

"As for our other problem, well... do we have any leads at all? Please don't tell me you've been holding out on me because I haven't asked. I hate that."
>> No. 40765083
File 142243703928.png - (904.43KB , 951x1001 , tumblr_nhsjwrCKYX1r4y7gho4_1280.png )
Umi looked down at the ponies scattered around himself and Andrew. Well, that was a lot easier then he had hoped. He crouched down before one of the more conscious ones, looking him in the eyes, and speaking softly. "Did you want to die on these tiles? I can arrange that." That cold, dead smile was back. He stood back up, one hoof resting on the stallion's head, pressing it into the cold tile floor. "It's not as clean and elegant as what I used to do...but if you lay still, it'll be over just as quick." He lifted his hoof up, slightly, readying himself to bring his weight down on the defeated stallion's temple. They had attacked him, and in the stallion's mind, they were now paying their dues for just that. The face under his hoof flicked from the real one, to the guard who had placed it, and back again. He wanted the guard's head under his hoof. He wanted to see them all under his hoof.
>> No. 40765086
File 142244185213.png - (0.96MB , 1059x707 , skyline.png )
"I ain't been holdin out on you, man. Take a chill pill..."

With a small but still distinctive blip, Tempest pauses his video and adjusts in his chair. Big TV watcher, he is--this is the second time you've caught him in front of it, if memory serves.

"But there's not much of a...'lead' to go on. I mean, you know what to look for better than I do, and as far as I know, you're only so-so. Is there something you know that I don't?"

Hoofsteps on the other end now. The sound of pleather being unfurled, and the distinctive shuffling of something brushing up against the phone for a few long moments. He's getting dressed.
>> No. 40765088
File 142244262124.png - (151.92KB , 1000x1000 , whargble.png )
Lunacy lets out a long, drawn out sigh. Tempest was right, he was... far more worked up than he should be.

"... Look, I've had a really shitty... fuckin', since Watergate. It's been that, then Sparkplug shat the bed, then there was that priest, then I had a chat with Suave, and just... urgh, it gets to me, y'know? Our last little adventure didn't go too great either, given as far as I can tell Air quite literally fucked a guy to death. You'd be pretty stressed out in my position as well."

"I mean, fuck, really, how do you fuck up being invisible! How do you do that? It's like cheating at being sneaky and you still fail!"

He flops out over the pillow once more, groaning heavily into the soft material. He could fall asleep right here, if he wanted to...

"Urgh. I was hoping Vector would know once we got done with this. I mean, shit, it was either that or... the weird-ass armored thing we 'fought' and dropped out of a plane that one time we were getting... something magical for Vector. Still don't have a clue what it was, but she implied there was more, I think."

"So that's all I've got. Thanks to Sparkplug's cock-up, well, that's a lot less help we'll have. Vector also said something about the dragon, a six-headed dragon... you got any idea about that? I doubt it, but I'm sure we know who might."
>> No. 40765089
"Ha. He got caught even with a dreamcoat? What a scrub!"

Tempest lets out a remarkably unprofessional laugh at that particular piece of trivia. While he maintains a hooves-off approach with you and knows terribly little about the specifics of your operation, he can definitely understand the joy in screwing up at being invisible and then also sexing a man to death. That's funny stuff, really.

"Dragon...You mean, aside from that being your group's designation?"

And now for the part of the picture where you put the pieces together in a stirring and emotional leap of logic that earns you a Moony at this year's /RP/ awards. Don't worry, I'll wait.
>> No. 40765091
File 142244653409.png - (189.79KB , 1030x1000 , Staaaaaare.png )
"Well, yeah, I mean, that's just a fancy name, isn't it?" he begins, lounging on back in the cushion once more - he should find out where Vector bought this, so he could buy one for his own home. "She told me that it was her first form, or something or another, way back when. So, y'know, with all the shit that's happened since then and now, maybe it's just buried under a mountain or some shit. Not really much to go off on, right?"

"... It all seems a bit odd, though. I... seem to recall something about the 'Mad Mare'? Think I saw her once or twice in the papers, but it didn't really strike me, not until she mentioned her - I think she was meant to be a vessel, as well as another named 'Mercy' or something, I never really saw much of her. But, like, why would she go immediately from ponies to remembering she had a big-ass dragon just laying about. I mean, she said no one mortal could contain her, and... and..."

There's some quiet, unintelligible murmuring to himself as Lunacy tosses over a few things in his head, before the line goes quiet for a moment, enough that you'd be able to hear a pin drop over the static of wireless communication.

"Son of a bitch!"
>> No. 40765340
File 142247623261.png - (83.89KB , 323x436 , Im not upset Im always like this.png )
Salsa was getting suspicious of this pony for asking him these questions. He was taking a drink for his glasses when Amos asked him what is going on. Salsa raised an eyebrow at him. Was Amos a fed? Probably. He did have a feeling that all of his crimes would catch up to him eventually. But then again this could be a chance to get him out of this lull in life that he is experiencing right now. Salsa would have to thread lightly with this conversation.

Salsa set down the glass to the right of him. It is about half full. "Same shit. Different day. Basically."

lol falling back to these pictures
>> No. 40765705
File 142248652908.jpg - (74.46KB , 808x960 , tumblr_nhtsw9Jl7h1qkbpm3o1_1280.jpg )
Amos simply nodded. There was a lot about this stallion that intrigued him. Was it the drinking, the lack of words, or the hate for day-to-day work in our society? It could be all of the above for all he knew. It wasn't every day that he'd meet someone he could actually enjoy talking to. Even if he was just a stranger, he already had a welcoming attitude by seeming unwelcoming to the common horse.

"Hmmm, yes yes. That reminds me of when I was stuck working in a grocery store. Had cops peeking in to keep an eye on me from time to time. It got old really fast," he said, looking down at his empty glass. "Things seem to be looking up for me now. Making more money, and I'm just now starting my own business."

After moving his glass around in a circle, he'd finally take the time to get a better look at Salsa, seeing that he was rather well-built compared to most of the stallions he's seen.

To Salsa, though, Amos would have 'crook' written all over him. His messy mohawk along with the long fuzz for a beard would write suspicious all over him, and if that wasn't enough he always seemed to have that expression of agitation and annoyance. The only thing that could distract from this were the augments attached to him. He had a mechanical eye with augments on his head that dimly glowed with green- the same color as his mechanical eye.

Despite his usual appearance, it would oddly change as Amos would smile a little to the stallion.

"You wouldn't so happen to be looking for work, would you?"
>> No. 40765757
Swiftwing finished up his almost silly looking maneuvers, though as silly as they may have been, they certainly got results, results quite visible to anyone who was watching as Swiftwing stood above the pool of 5 ponies, grinning quite widely as he looked at each and everyone of them, admiring his own, and of course, Umi's work, adding a bit to his growing confidence and ego. "Man, I didn't know prison was full of bitches..." he chuckled a bit, then winced as he could feel his own arm blood running down his shoulder and quickly reached a hoof around to grip it, trying to stop the bleeding and hoping so. It wasn't so bad, but the adrenaline was making the blood flow much worse.

Looking around, Swiftwing also saw Umi and the scenario he was in, looking at the much larger stallion be ready to stomp in the head of the prisoner. Swiftwing's expression quickly grew worrisome as he turned. "Hoooold on, Umi! Dont' wanna kill them... like... break his legs if you wanna do that, but I don't know how much worse off we'll get it here if we actually kill one of them... Don't they have extra solitary confinement??"
>> No. 40765881
File 142249336934.png - (316.44KB , 1276x910 , Apples.png )
"I know Doc, I was just messing with you some more~" DOm shook his head with a chuckle, looking over at the bed in the corner of the room, it looking clean "I'm not gonna ask you to live with me or anything, relax" he chuckled once more
>> No. 40765939
"What'd you call me?"

Tempest seems offended by this remark, but only mildly so; whether or not it is entirely in jest is anyone's guess, but he doesn't follow it up with any additional hostility. Rather, he lets the white noise of the phone line reign for a few moments longer after your outbreak; and then, tentatively and with more than a tiny hint of audible reluctance, he speaks up:

"...You, uh, wanna tell me something?

"Hey--hey, break it up, kids!"

Not but a moment later, Andrew's suspicions are confirmed, as the guard takes a step into the shower with his shotgun at the ready; and two more lean in behind him, both wide-eyed and curious. You have a very short window of time to decide whether or not waxing these particular punks is worth whatever-it-is they do to ponies who violently murder other prisoners.
>> No. 40765944
File 142250104299.png - (150.38KB , 1000x1458 , what.png )
"One mortal can't contain her but the dragon can - you're right, it's not the dragon, but us, she's a crazy, lying... bloody hell."

If Luncay had anything to toss that wouldn't have any lasting effects - like the last time he busted his phone because he got a little angry - he probably would have, but at this point in time he's left to do naught but flail about like the angry little pony he is.

"... Yeah, okay, either her last act was to fuck with us or she wants us, Failure State, to be the 'body'... and probably through those weird-ass crystals she had. Ugh. This is all too complicated."

"So that's what we've gotta do. Find her - these crystals of her. Almost certainly highly magical - Lone Star was protecting one, though I'unno if they knew what it was or if it was just a regular protection job. There was also this other... thing, wearing perfect steel body armor that we had to drop out the back of a plane to be rid of."
>> No. 40765962
"Umi, BACK OFF!!" Swiftwing quickly threw his own hooves up and backed away, trying to not get his own ass in the prison within the prison, staring anxiously and hopefully at Umi to make the right decision.
>> No. 40766022
File 142250537424.png - (576.89KB , 1345x1345 , Another pic.png )
"The rule of honor...'If I live, I will kill you, if I die, you are forgiven.'" His hoof raised a little higher, ready to end the stallion's life. They had attacked them, intend on maiming them. They deserved this. Who was this kid to tell him otherwise? Leaving them to go would only let them come back again. And if they came back, it wouldn't be six on two. No, it would be far, far more. His muscles tensed, ready to deliver a killing blow, before the guard called out.

Umi looked over his shoulder, at the guard. His hoof lowered to the ground, lashing out, to catch the Snakeskin in the snoot, before he stepped back. "Would you rather I brought you his cutie mark?" He locked eyes with the guard, before spitting into the drain. He was dead tired of this place, and it was grating on every nerve he had, wearing them down to nothingness. "They attacked my friend and I, and injured him. We simply fought back." His face was, well, rather blank, as he shrugged. He wasn't going to paint the floor with the stallion's brains this time. But who knew about next time, or the time after that? The stallion seemed to have been steadily decaying into a more ruthless pony, befitting of the executioner he was.

He backed up, with Andrew, looking down at the scattered bodies. Maybe they'd serve as a warning, and they'd have peace now. Then the stallion could simply become a recluse, sitting under the shower heads, during these times, and then returning to his cells. Or would it only inspire others to bring better weapons and greater numbers?
>> No. 40766031
"At the rate that you're forking up things of yours, I actually wouldn't be surprised."

With that, she manages to lazily drag herself off of Dom's couch. After a stretch, she trots over to the bed, hops on, and turns to Dom as she works on the covers.

"...Uh... I'm gonna hit the hay. Night, Dom."

"Thank you."

Last edited at Wed, Jan 28th, 2015 21:31

>> No. 40766067
File 142250767736.png - (209.56KB , 762x1047 , Not good.png )
Dom looked at her as she walked off, nodding as he shifted to lay on the couch, resting his hindlegs on one end of the bed, and resting his head on the other arm rest. He closed his eyes and looked up with a smile

"Nooot a problem doc... Sleep tight."
>> No. 40766119
"Uh-huh. Yeah, not gonna lie, this is way beyond me. And also my pay grade."

Ah, Tempest. The nice thing about being an official graduate of Nightguard training despite not being a thestral is that you've pretty much done enough cool stuff to have pretty much 0 ambition for everything else. There's no reason to go around chasing after nuclear weapons and fragments of Discord when you can just sit on your fat ass and rest on your laurels. It must be great to be an academy graduate.

"But, if you want...highly magical crystals courtesy of Lonestar, guess what just shipped into the Baaabylon museum--the same one that got hit a few months ago, actually."

"Yeah, that's real great. You pull another stunt like that and you're going in solitary--both of you!"

The guard barks out this ultimatum with a scowl of contempt towards you and your fallen victims both--evidently he doesn't care that they were the aggressors in this situation. Such is life in prison when you're a known cop-killer.
>> No. 40766124
"That's the lamest." Swiftwing scoffed back with an eyeroll and sigh. He could certainly keep himself from not doing the same thing again, but just how well could he keep his much larger partner from doing the same? Probably not at all... with any hope, they had gotten their message across to the rest of the inmates, in which that moment Swiftwing gave a gaze around to look at the atmosphere of the room, hoping the rest would be intimidated by the 2v6 they had just easily done.
>> No. 40766128
File 142251164276.png - (173.45KB , 1000x1000 , This many!.png )
"Wait, shit, really? Awesome. That's... awesome. And it's already been knocked over so we know it can be done!"

"I mean, either that or they've upgraded their security systems."

Lunacy sighs and rubs his temples. That was... definitely something they had to do, but shit, it'd mean trusting Sparkplug on this super duper important mission again.

"So, y'know, as a side question... what do you actually do?"
>> No. 40766134
Umi snorted, simply taking a seat under one of the water sprays, and looking to the others in the shower. He wanted them to come in. Solitary would be another minor annoyance. That guard was next on his list, if he ever got the chance. Worst comes to worst, as they were dragging him to his death, he could rip the guard's throat out, with his teeth.

Umi seemed, well, more docile now. He sat under the shower head, soaking in the cold, recycled water, and looking at the ponies they had beat. It was odd, really. By tomorrow, a small fraction of this water would be tainted with Swiftwing's blood...
>> No. 40766165
File 142251407303.png - (1.08MB , 1024x683 , toronto.png )
"Lots of different things. Sometimes I work. Sometimes I watch TV. Sometimes I spank it. Same as everyone else."

Well, you can't fault him for lack of honesty. He's certainly telling the truth, as underwhelming and vague and point-missing as this particular truth might be. Three options have presented themselves here: Either he is so stupid that he does not understand the question; he is so devoted to duty he is unable to answer the question; or he is so devoted to fucking with you he chooses not to.

In this way, time passes...


Some fifteen minutes later you are taken to the cafeteria--under escort as always. While the feeding room is definitely more open than the recreational shower, it is only by way of width: the ceiling still hangs crushingly low, and the floor space is cluttered with long brown tables and the shuffling downtrodden. Of the hundred or so ponies in here, a full twenty are guards, by your measure; and those that aren't are either procuring or consuming dull grey miniature troughs full of a dull grey gruel from a dull grey luncheon line in one corner of the room. You are shoved into the room roughly, without your shackles being unbound--that explains why the others are shuffling as they are.

"Alright, you got 20 minutes for lunch. Get it done."
>> No. 40766242
File 142252215600.png - (102.82KB , 660x162 , Drinking.png )

Right... so it is a gas after all.

>Damn, how the hell was she supposed to stop a gas? Its colorless, tasteless and you probably can't even smell it either. So what could she even do then, the Old Man had thought her that in ancient times soldiers would press urine soaked rags to their noses to block poisonous gas from outright killing them during trench warfare. Only problem was, there was no way to know if the gas would even react the same way if at all... damn it, how could she handle this problem? If only she could find the vent for the gas then maybe she could somehow block it...

>Looking around the barefaced cell, Carnage looked closely at everything around her but very much doubted she could find it that easily.

Have to find a way to stop it so we can get out of here then.
>> No. 40766297
File 142252934613.png - (215.30KB , 804x679 , I see bullshit.png )
Salsa was amused by the story that Amos told him. That is one thing that can relate due to cops tailing Salsa back in Fillydelphia which was one of the reasons why he left the city and doing his best to leave no trace to move to Canterlot. Salsa took another drink of his cider and wiped his mouth after setting the glass back on the bar.

He also studied Amos while he was telling him the about getting more money. He looked like someone that did business. Maybe Salsa could trust him. More importantly Amos was a stranger so that was a plus. Then he laid down the question about work. Lot's of things went through his head. But there was one thing. This conversation had to be moved to a more private location.

"I am. I think we should continue this conversation else where. Too many ears here."
>> No. 40766845
Umi and Swiftwing's escort to the cafeteria was met with a sigh, the shackles perhaps the most annoying part, not liking to have to drag his hooves, and felt it made him and Umi a lot more vulnerable, and also felt Umi wouldn't appreciate it either. He hoped going in to find a familiar face, of the two he knew were also in the prison, or any of the Bluebloods. Looking around the cafeteria, Swifwting could rather quickly tell that it wasn't a very sanitary place and expected the food to be likewise. He looked around a bit before looking back to Umi.
>> No. 40766889
File 142257868779.png - (874.85KB , 696x696 , umi not smug___.png )
Umi wrinkled his muzzle, as they were brought to the cafeteria. This low ceiling was getting irritating fast. Hell, if he jumped a little, his head would meet the cold concrete above. With a quiet, irritable snort, he got his trough, and made his way to a table, sitting down. He looked at the metal container, one hoof feeling the edge of it. He could use this...if he had a chance. The only problem was getting a chance. He gave a quiet, irritable growl, the mountain of a pony simply eating the dull, sludge they called food. He wasn't a chef by any stretch, but he wouldn't wish this food on his worst enemies. Well, maybe...

Upon arriving, Umi simply shambled off, chains clanking, as he got his food, and sat at a table. He had been, well, oddly quiet, ever since they got into the fight. He had wanted to kill, and Andrew had stopped him. Sure, it had probably saved the stallion from a lot of pain, but all the same, in his mind, he was missing his rightful end to the fight.
>> No. 40766955
File 142258206391.png - (98.10KB , 906x881 , U wot m8.png )
Watching Umi trot off, Andrew frowned a bit, noting the larger stallion's silence and taking it easily. He could tell the stallion was angry, he knew how the stallion felt, but Swiftwing knew that Umi could easily let emotions get the better of him and do something he would have probably regretted... Following him, Swiftwing grabbed a trough for himself, shambling along, trying to mind his own business while staying with Umi as he took a seat next to the stallion. "..." Swiftwing looked down at his.. what he thinks he could call food as he thought a bit about the situation he was in, and how he had to try to handle it, before coming out and speaking back up. "Listen, man, I know you wanted that kill, but solitary would have been awful and made things so much harder on all of us... We have no idea how long you would be there or how we'd end up getting to you..."
>> No. 40767032
File 142258557019.jpg - (118.64KB , 1280x720 , tumblr_ni2ci3quRU1sj1asfo1_1280.jpg )
Amos would only grin as the stallion suggested moving somewhere else. It was as if he took what he was thinking and already said what needed to be said. He liked this. It was as if this stallion really had a way with ponies and saying all the right words.

"I like the way you think," he said, letting out a deep laugh.

He may be rather short for a stallion, and always soft spoken, but his voice was certainly deep once you were able to really listen to it. Now that he was laughing, it became all too noticeable.

After getting up from his seat, he dusted himself off. He usually wore his duster coat to work, so there were certainly times when it just wasn't too clean. At least there wasn't any blood on it. He's never had to kill anyone to get the job, which is exactly what's supposed to happen when you're in Amos's position. Getting your hooves dirty only meant that they could trace the crime back to you, and that was never good.

"Come. Let's take a walk."

Amos started to walk out of the bar, noting some of the guests who were almost obviously operators. He always thought it was strange how some of them wanted to make themselves know like that. They really wanted fame, but to Amos, it looked like they really wanted to get caught. After heading outside, presumably with Salsa, he started to walk down the sidewalk, away from where a lot of ponies were at.

"You know, there's a lot dangerous work in this industry. I've seen a few runners try and get themselves into it, but they weren't really cut out for it. Even if you think you have what it takes to make it here, you're just as glued as the others without the right equipment." He glanced over to Salsa. "But what I want to know is what you could do for me."

Amos would stop just then, looking to the darker alley way. It smelled, and it looked more than suspicious.

"Forgive me, but I'd rather us not go to my place. I promise future business meetings will be held in a more suitable location, but we still have a lot of planning to do, and such little time."

He walked into the alleyway, far enough to where no one could possibly see or hear them.
>> No. 40767115
File 142259002775.png - (711.98KB , 1024x645 , toronto_frozen.png )
"Hm. Yeah. Yeah, very bad. Some way to stop it, stop it is good, what to do, what to do..."

With a contemplative and gentle step, Velvet steps across the cell and braces her forehooves on the door. Going by the sound of it--given that you can't rely on sight, for obvious reasons--she's trying to gnaw her way through the crossbars. This sound is as amusing as it is profoundly disturbing; hopefully, she won't break anything.
>> No. 40767118
Umi looked down at Andrew, remaining silent, for the time being. He turned back to his food, speaking quietly. "They attacked us...tried to bleed us, for a paltry sum. I would have been justified in ending their miserable existences." His muzzle wrinkles, though if it was in disgust in the food, or the result of the fight was unclear. "If solitary is the worst they can do to me, then I welcome their attempts..." His hackles rose, slightly, as he thought of the guard who had broken them apart from the fight. "I want that guard dead, as well."
>> No. 40767131
File 142259118695.png - (169.08KB , 1600x1476 , Are you serious___ like__ really___ no___ just___ no_____.png )
Swifting kept his eyes on Umi's, his expression growing a bit unliking of the stallion's attitude. "Ugh... Umi, listen, I get that you have a code, and I get that you have high emotions, I get that you're an executioner so you're used to killings. But you have to get that we don't have any augments, any weapons, any armor, and they actually have guns, and a lot of numbers. You have to try to think a little more rationally. This isn't the place to go down in a blaze of glory. If you and I are split up, that would spell really bad news. Yeah it's all fun and great to think about killing everyone and crushing them under your hoof," he modeled by rubbing his hoof into the table "but realistically, guards are prepared for ponies like you. I can't just get you a one on one, there's no trial by combat here."
>> No. 40767173
The stallion grumbled, looking down at his half eaten food, and grumbling irritably. "I will wait." He muttered. "But these ponies will die, one way or another. I don't care if it's with my last breath, I will see at least the guard dead." He finished his food, and pushed the the trough away. "Until then, I will bide my time, and wait. We will not be here much longer."
>> No. 40767179
"I'd like to think that, at least." he sighed, looking back down at his own food, wincing with each bite as he stomached it, but he needed to eat.. he needed to keep his strengths up. "We have no communication with the rest, we still haven't even seen Carnage or Igneus, biding our time is a very big must.. we gotta try to stay out of the shit we're already in with beating up that gang..."
>> No. 40767248
"I won't pursue them. But if they approach, I will take them out, once more. Perhaps they will be intimidated by what we have already done, and we will garner some form of peace for it." He shrugged, finishing his food with a grimace. "This tastes like glue, mixed with dirty water..."
>> No. 40767288
"That is my hopes exactly... we really had no struggle in that fight... We'll just have to see what happens, I just say it's important we stick together, or else those kind of fights get hard to deal with by yourself..." he sighed at the food, wincing a bit as he took another bite. "Yeah, but we need it..." He cringed from another bite.
>> No. 40767319
"There's worse eaten by better." He said, simply, before pushing his, empty, trough away. "Eugh...I kind of want to just be back in the cell. How is your shoulder?" He looked over to Andrew, peering on the stallion's back,to check how badly he was wounded. Maybe if he had to go to the medical area, he could steal a scalpel...
>> No. 40767352
Swiftwing tapped his chin as he thought about what he said... and how if it was supposed to make him feel better or worse, he couldn't tell. He shrugged and glanced over his back to his shoulder, which was stained with blood, his body work itself to try and clot the wound. He winced in response. "It'll... heal I guess. It's not too bad, not as bad as having a broken leg." he reassured
>> No. 40767366
"Good. We don't want any injuries, when we're leaving. That'll be trouble...not to mention that means one of us has to carry another, and unless out augs are back up..." He shrugs, hoping that the others would disable whatever shut down the augments in their bodies, during the escape. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, as he spoke, keeping their conversaion from being overheard.
>> No. 40767397
Swifting noted and of course was speaking silently the same. "I think either of us could, that wouldn't be the problem... the problem of course would be us being interrupted by guards that were chasing and shooting us down." his eyes roam around the room before returning to Umi.
>> No. 40767449
"There would be a lot of them...though if they want to kill us, they'll be losing a fair number, themselves." He laid his head on the table, blowing out an irritated breath. "Damn it..when do we go back to the cell? It may be shit there, but it's safe shit."
>> No. 40767451
"I figured you'd enjoy this place... it's a bit more spacious at least, more room to walk around, more things to look at and ways to keep your mind occupied... at least that's how it is for me. I mean, I know there's danger around here, but there's just as much danger in the showers. ANd he said it was 20 mintues so... probably not too far off."
>> No. 40768314
File 142268866827.png - (330.98KB , 720x851 , How bored can I be_.png )
"More spacious, but the ceiling is still so low that I don't even feel comfortable with my ears perked...not to mention the shackles." He rattles the chains, as if to prove a point, and then sighed. "I want to pace least I can deal with that." He sat back a bit, shaking his head. "Not to mention the fact that I don't know how long I can keep from attacking others in here, that provoke me..." He pushed away his empty trough, sticking his tongue out, slightly. "Smells better in the cell too. More cold, and less pile of 'washed' prisoners."
>> No. 40768317
File 142268887421.png - (146.63KB , 1000x1056 , that's nice.png )
"Uh... huh. Well, I've got other people to call and things to do so that we might stop the guy that was selling a bloody nuke. So I'm gonna do that now, bye."

And like that, he'd hung up. Lotta bloody good Tempest was - well, except for telling him of the museum. That was useful - but they've got other things to do first.

Grabbing his computer, he turns it on and calls up Crow. Maybe he'd would actually be helpful - after all, it was within his best interests to help those who wanted Firejack gone, for him, even! In theory, at least.

"Crow, you still... sitting around wherever you are being all mono-tone-y today? I need some intel."
>> No. 40768395
You don't get an answer from Crow this time--nor do you get his answering machine, for whatever that's worth. Instead, you get the simple three-note whistle of a call redirection; and this is followed by two more rings, and ultimately the click of the phone being answered. On the other end, there's a voice you don't recognize--a young female, whose voice is only moderately filtered in comparison to the near-robotic sounds of the Crow. You're not sure, but you thing you can detect the faint chirrs and screeches of a recently-nationalized griffon.

"Crow Arms International, Hulga speaking. Crow 8 is out of the office at the moment, how may I help you?"
>> No. 40768404
File 142269963947.png - (189.79KB , 1030x1000 , Staaaaaare.png )
Lunacy is, for a brief moment, surprised. If he had a drink, he'd probably be doing a spittake, but instead settles for a fit of snickering to himself. Who would've thought that Crow of all ponies would have a secretary? Not him. Shit, he's got no idea what Crow even does - and kinda just assumed up until this point he sat around in a basement, shipping guns and doing deals, or whatever it was he actually did.

"Wow. Wow." he begins, before immediately backpedaling once the thought of this maybe being a bit offensive goes through his thick steel-reinforced head. "Sorry, sorry, nothing against you - I just... never took Crow for the guy to have a secretary of all things. Heh, heheh. Sorry."

"Now, uh, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume you have at least some clue of what Crow's doing - or Crow 8, or whatever, I've never actually met a different one. But, basically... I need a little bit of intel, or whatever you wanna call it, on companies in Cloudsdale. Specifically, the ones who are able to transport, manufacture, import, or store an atomichemical superspear, or any sorts of precursor things one would need to build one of those."

"I can't imagine, and hope for my own sake, that there'd be too many of these."
>> No. 40768405
"Repeat again, slowly? Super-spear? One moment, Hulga find for you."

It seems that her well-spoken introduction was nothing more than a script line; and now that you've wandered off of the area she's well-versed in and into the bit she only has cliff notes for, her poor diction is starting to shine through. That she speaks Equestrian to this degree is probably a sign that she isn't outsourced--but definitely recently-immigrated, and most likely doing this in between college courses or something. More than that, she possesses a strong Stalliongrad accent: she probably learned to speak in the RSNM, if she wasn't born there altogether.

"Hm. Many big company in Cloodsell. You have thing to skinny down the looking?"
>> No. 40768406
File 142270494368.png - (146.63KB , 1000x1056 , that's nice.png )
Lunacy's grin almost immediately becomes a whoooole lot more forced as the facade is dropped. Weighing his options for a moment, he figures actually giving it a shot is better than not, and he's not got much better to do anyway.

"Alright, alright. I need to find companies, or ponies, in Cloudsdale, who'd be able to... actually do things with a superspear - or a nuke. Research institutions, nuclear powerplants, or maybe R&D for big corps might fit the bill but I'm sure there's more than that. Look for people who could conceivably transport it, too, you can't just ship one of these around in the back of an armored car... well, not unless you're really good, and if they are they'd have a name for themselves."

"The kicker is - and this is why I wanted Crow - is that I want the ones most likely to be affiliated with Firejack or any of his associates." he says, pausing for a moment. "You, uh, do know who Firejack is, right?"
>> No. 40768546
File 142272583986.png - (90.66KB , 859x929 , i am the awesome.png )
"Alright, alright. Well I don't think we can so easily move about from cafeteria to cells...." He then began to look around and think about something to talk about to help fill the rest of the time until the end of lunch. "...Heh, so how stupidly bad were those snakeskins?" Swiftwing grinned a bit. "LIke, seriously, that was a special kind of bad."
>> No. 40770379
File 142283926475.jpg - (258.97KB , 1300x755 , dead.jpg )
"Ja. Hulga know many tings. What is your name, Horsetrail-man?"

You can hear the distinctive sound of talons clacking against keyboards, now--one of those tiny mechanical ones that griffons get specifically to annoy ponies, with the keys so small your hooves slap like 15 at once. You remember it took you the better part of half a year to learn how to hobnail-type with those accursed things--and they've been the bane of your existence ever since.

"Crow not mention your squeaky girl voice when he tell me to expect you."
>> No. 40770470
File 142284191880.png - (91.09KB , 179x545 , Bribe.png )

Don't hurt yourself jackass... those aren't made of hay you know.

>She told her insane cellmate, the mare's very dedicated chewing noises spreading throughout the cell in a way that was more than a little worrisome. Then, as she wondered wether or not to pull the girl off the damn things before something important broke, an idea struck Carnage that really was quite obvious.

Say... if you've got magic enough to make ponies pass out just by looking at you... can't you just... you know... concentrate it to blow a hole through the wall or something?
>> No. 40770527
File 142284523901.jpg - (480.04KB , 1304x1304 , blue_stallion_commish_by_annasko-d5lyq37.jpg )
"They were overconfident. It serves as a lesson. If you think you will win, because of numbers, then you deserve whatever you get." Out of sheer boredom, the stallion balanced his trough on it's end. He stared at it, remaining quiet, perhaps out of boredom, before he tipped it over, letting it clatter to the table. "How much time is left, before we go back?" He asked, looking down at Andrew. This had gotten very boring, with nopony trying to start a fight.
>> No. 40770531
File 142284558796.png - (83.43KB , 855x935 , I have too much awesome.png )
Swiftwing let out a chuckle. "Yeah, as long as the numbers don't have guns or weapons on them." he smirked a small bit, watching on perhaps just as boredly at the trough. "And that is a question I do not have an answer for. No clocks or watches around here." He replied with a soft exhale, feeling actually relieved that it seemed most of the problems for Umi at this point was just being bored.. he hoped it would hold up.
>> No. 40770555
File 142284771350.png - (197.59KB , 1000x1301 , annoyed horse sounds.png )
"He-Hey, fuck you! My voice's not a squeaky girl voice! It's a fearsome criminal voice! Don't say shit about my voice!"

Of course, his half-flustered, surprised, and reactionary response does absolutely nothing to make him sound any better.

"Okay, okay, okay." he says, trying to calm himself down. "My name is Lunacy, and could you please stay on topic?"
>> No. 40770569
"Hulga is on topic, Lucy. Hulga make you feel comfy while she get you information.

"...Hulga think you sound very nice, by the way."

You suspect the large, socially-inept griffon is trying to make you feel better about your squeaky girl voice; either that or she's genuinely coming onto you. Which of the two scenarios is worse is anyone's guess--whether you have to deal with a lying griffon or an amorous one, you're still trying to navigate the customs and tastes of a huge meat-eating foreigner. The only consolation you can really derive from this is the most-assuredly head-beating fantasy you have concocted.

"Here. Hulga get list of company. There is college in Cloodsdell, there is power plant in Cloodsdell, there car company, there weapon company, there plane company, there pocketwatch company, there augment company...many company in Cloodsdell for Lucy. Many with access to big bomb materials."

"Don't you think I would have if I could have? There's not a FUCKING GODDAMN THING I CAN DO!"

She slams her hooves against the cell bars, producing a tremendous CLANG that resonates throughout the cell.

"...They took my magic away. In the experiment. I can't do anything but this...and this--this, I can't turn off!"
>> No. 40770575
File 142284869546.png - (151.92KB , 1000x1000 , whargble.png )
"No, no - fuck, not Lucy, Lunacy! My name is Lunacy, say it with me! Lu-na-cy! Three syllable- fuck, alright, alright!"

Lunacy puts the phone down for a moment and takes many deep breaths. If he got angry and snapped at Cow's secretary, well, there goes any bloody chance of finding what he wanted. Not an optimal ending, but fuck if this wasn't hard on him.

"Okay. We have... lots of companies." he begins, bringing his hooves to his temples to rub his head. "Now I need to cut it down by ones who've either been robbed for these hard-to-get materials recently, or that we know does dealings with Firejack. Hopefully, hopefully that should narrow it down to something more manageable. And, in addition, the dickhead that built this thing's gonna need to transport it, too! So find people who'd do that - legally or illegally, and almost certainly the latter, who are good enough to do that without anyone finding out, and who have or could've done dealings with Firejack, too. Can you... please do that?"
>> No. 40770580
File 142284904517.png - (288.62KB , 671x466 , Punch.png )

Hrmmm... right... lemme try something.

>Carnage said as she stood up and approached the general position of the mare, watching her out of the corner of her eye and making damned sure not to make eye contact by keeping her gaze strictly oriented towards the mare's legs. What she had in mind was not a smart plan, fuck, it was pretty freaking retarded but Carnage knew absolutely nothing about magic, how magic could be blocked or changed and even less of what'd been done to her fellow cellmate. But what she did know was that magic somehow came from the pony's brain and there was very definitely something wrong with Velvet's brain.

Right, don't move and trust me.

>Once she'd lined up correctly, with the mare, Carnage reared up her hooves and kicked the girl where her head should've been with all her might, that much punch being generally able to knock out anything but the hardiest and toughest badasses alive. The logic behind this was that maybe a very violent blow to the mare's head would fix her magic and, if nothing else, it could scarcely make her worse then she already was... right?
>> No. 40770597
"Yeah, yeah. Hulga be happy to help you, Mister Lucy. Hulga always love helping Crow friends! Make her feel all warm inside."

Tap tap tap. Hulga either doesn't understand your objection over her name, or is physically incapable of pronouncing the difference--or maybe now she's doing it just to fuck with you. Given your long history of pissing off everyone you meet, it's probably that last thing; I mean, not to disparage you or anything, but people HATE you. Or maybe that's just your imagination. Regardless of what's driving her at the moment, she's definitely obliging with her information search; and you can hear her whistling something softly as she tippity-taps her way to usefulness.

"Hm. No break-ins reportage, maybe they keep it low for stock prices. And...none known doing with Firejack, no. I am at lost, mister Lucy; records am showing nothing..."



I don't think it worked.

Time passes.

The days roll on. Before long you've established a grim and predictable rhythm: eat, sleep, go to showers and hide in the corner, repeat. Once every two shifts or so you're carried out to the work yard--a grim and foul-smelling place where you are assigned to wash down a bunch of rocks with a bunch of firehoses, and then put them into a crate.

It's miserable.
>> No. 40770605
File 142284994257.png - (59.29KB , 150x479 , Sup.png )
>Welp... guess that was one hardy bitch given that it didn't knock her out at all and only seemed to piss her off. Well, maybe the angle was wrong but hell, maybe it did work.

So uh... can you try doing magic?

>Maybe her brain just needed a little tussle to work again, not that she could look back to see what she'd done but here's hoping nothing important broke.
>> No. 40770612
File 142285065522.png - (146.63KB , 1000x1056 , that's nice.png )

Lunacy lets out a long, drawn out groan, before slamming one of his hooves onto the ground. Of course, even with his hooves made of metal and oil, the ground is still made of concrete, and promptly wins the exchange. Recoiling in pain and cradling his injured robo-hoof, he pulls the phone back up to his ear and resumes barking angrily into it.

"Well, well fuck, who are Firejack's known contacts in Cloudsdale? Smugglers, fuckin', anyone! Or, or, was there anyone that announced some new development or somehting and went strangely quiet on it in the past week? Or, fuck, who actually owns atomichemical devices in Cloudsdale? Fucking - stupid asshole paranoid fuck that actually covers his tracks, argh!"

"... Uuuugh. This is just a little bit... really infuriating."
>> No. 40770654
You don't remember how you wound up face-up in the back of the cell with a black eye, a pounding pucker, and the words "VELVET WAS HERE" etched into your left foreleg. You don't remember how you got your tail tied into a knot around your hind leg so that you're hobbled by your own hair, and you don't remember why your mane is tied around your mouth like some kind of muzzle.

But you can take a guess.

"Surprise, it didn't work."

"Nobody own big bomb in Cloodsdell, Mister Lucy. Very ill-legal, you know. Many smooglers, though. Many in Cloodsdell, is very shady boat city. Smooglers from all over country, you know?"
>> No. 40770659
File 142285271051.png - (151.92KB , 1000x1000 , whargble.png )
"Well... well, shit, do we know anyone who works with Firejack? Recently, or a lot, or, fuck, who's the best smugglers in Cloudsdale?"
>> No. 40770660
Umi seemed, well, almost happy during the working hours. He hosed down the rocks, hauled them off, and stored them away in the proper crates. He was working, he was active, and he was actually able to look up, and perk his ears, without the oppressively low ceiling threatening to provide a harsh meeting place for the top of his head. He tossed another rock into the crate, before looking to Andrew. How was the smaller stallion holding up, to this labor?
>> No. 40770714
File 142285596533.png - (94.80KB , 671x178 , Well fuck.png )

. . .

>Welp, at least she wasn't conscious for any of that. That's kind of the upside when being violently raped for trying to help someone with their troubles - at least you can't remember any of it come sleepytime.

>Wiggling her way free of the many binding she was forced in, the least Carnage could do in this situation was make sure that at least the guards wouldn't have some crazy thing to gossip about come experiement time.
>> No. 40770715
"I know many good smooglers in Cloodsdell, Mister Lucy. But best smooglers, nobody knows unless they want, ja?"

That is the hard part about trying to find someone whose profession demands secrecy and discretion at all times. If they're really good at it, they'll never be found out until they're good and ready--a practice Spark Plug could stand to learn.

"I have big list for you. Many smooglers, all good."
>> No. 40770717
File 142285668464.png - (150.38KB , 1000x1458 , what.png )
"... You're right. Damn it, you're right."

This shit just had to be so hard, didn't it? With Firejack and his... actually knowing what the hell he was doing. What a prick.

"Bloody hell. How many of them do you know to be working with Firejack?"

Last edited at Sun, Feb 1st, 2015 22:58

>> No. 40770721
The smaller stallion didn't exactly seem to be hating his life... he just seemed to be hating his job. He would've probably preferred another job to spraying down and lifting up rocks, groaning in boredom and exhaustion, he was strong for his size, sure, but after a while he was getting tired and the rocks weren't getting any lighter. Looking up at Umi, he noted the stallion's expression, a bit perplexed to see him as so. "What.. you like working like this?" He asked with a raised eyebrow
>> No. 40770722
Great priorities, Carnage. Those guards won't be getting any keks out of you, nosiree.

"...None left above ground, I mean."

It's easy to forget that Crow has other ways of doing things besides just hitting you up for favors. Whether or not that's a pleasant surprise or an unfortunate revelation is up to you to decide.
>> No. 40770729
File 142285893630.png - (197.59KB , 1000x1301 , annoyed horse sounds.png )
"... Maybe this is why Crow's having such bloody trouble killing this guy, but that's something else."

"So I guess that's all we can do. Either chase up a guy to chase up a bomb to chase up Firejack himself, or maybe I could just tell him to go fuck himself through his bloody answering machine and that sounds like it's got a better chance of working than any of this shit."
>> No. 40770737
File 142285931725.png - (732.43KB , 822x1024 , product_zps92f0474d.png )
Umi nodded, slightly, smiling a little. "I do. The ceiling is higher, and we get to actually move about. Sure, it's cold, it's wet, and it's hard work, but it's better then waiting to get jumped, spooning down that garbage they call food, and pacing the cell." He shrugged, hefting a boulder into a crate, before stretching out. "Plus we get to work out a little, which helps keep us ready, physically, for anything." He smiled, dusting his hooves off, before setting to work on another pile. It was odd, kind of, but in the end, it kept the stallion happy, and not as prone to murder, for the moment.
>> No. 40770743
File 142285969503.png - (187.56KB , 900x851 , a mare like you only comes around once in a thousand years.png )
"..." Swiftwing looked on and listened to Umi's elaboration, and couldn't help but smile in return. "Hey now, there's thinking on the bright side." He chuckled a small bit. "At least one of us is finding this really enjoyable... but when you put it like that, I guess it's not so much as me fining this enjoyable as it is finding the fact those things aren't happening to us to be enjoyable..." he smirked. "Better lose the smile before they see the enjoyment and make us do something else, I don't think we're supposed to be enjoying this."
>> No. 40770779
File 142286202055.jpg - (140.43KB , 1600x1000 , midnight.jpg )
"Hulga is secretary, not consultant. So sorry for hard time, Mister Lucy.

"You need anything else?"

She says, with an audible yawn and the distinctive creek of a chair being leaned backwards.
>> No. 40770786
File 142286628999.png - (189.79KB , 1030x1000 , Staaaaaare.png )
"Bloody hell, Firejack and his fuckin' nuke and all his bloody, fuck..."

Lunacy hangs his head in his hooves and grumbles to himself. Nothing in Cloudsdale itself, and they didn't have anything else 'cuz the nuke was exploded because someone decided to do something really fucking stupid. Can't go through the arms dealer, Firejack would see that coming from a mile away. Bloody hell, if only they could do it over again, might have time to write down some important details and actually pay attention. Can't track the boat because that's who-knows-where now, with no identifying characteristics to find it, or where it's been, because nobody was paying attention to the...

Maybe not of the ones who were there to find the bomb, but someone who was guarding the place would at least know the name of the boat, or something, right?

"Wait. Hold on."

Lunacy tosses the phone into the pillow, and dragging himself over towards the way back up into the bar, shouts out. Hopefully this guy - who he really should learn the name of - was still hanging about. Hopefully because he liked the place, but all but certainly because he had nowhere else to go.

"Hey! Ex-Lone Star... guy! If you're still here! First off, uh, what's your name? I'm sorry for not asking before, there's just been a lot going on with all this... anyways! What was the name of the boat that had the nuke?"
>> No. 40770787
" you just sit down there all day? Cuz I gotta be honest, you're REALLY startin to throw me off."

The Lonestar guy whose name you don't know is quick on the draw, actually: after your summons, he leans over the lift edge, and hollers down at you with a troubled and uncomfortable air--As is expected for an ex-lonestar who's spent the last month killing time in a bar before being accosted by a lazy horse who physically dragged himself across the floor. You are really presenting a miserable impression for this fellow.

"...Uh...It was called the Thunderfly?"
>> No. 40770788
File 142286778034.png - (170.85KB , 1000x1049 , You'll fit nicely in the airlock.png )
"I... look, okay, I'm something like, eighty percent augments, and I spend a lot of time tinkering with them, and a lot of time unable to move because I've fucked something up, badly, and I need to either fix it with one of my hind legs or just try to exist in a huge amount of pain because I've crossed some wires or something. Shit, I figured after the first couple of times the pain would become bearable, but..."

Lunacy falls quiet with a stammer and an awkward cough as he slowly comes to the realization that this is not helping his case, nor

"... So, uh, yes, I do kinda just sit down here all day unless there's something to do. Thank you, and uh, what was your name?..."
>> No. 40770789
"...You are REALLY weird. I've been here for a month, how do you not..."

The Lonestar-with-no-name sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his scalp and withdrawing his presence from the elevator shaft. Before he turns to leave you be, however, he shouts back down to you: His tone is lighthearted and easygoing, so at least he's being a relatively good sport about you either forgetting to ask or forgetting to remember his name for over a month. As a lonestar trainee, he probably did worse every single day, and had worse done to him. He's probably just glad you haven't made him detain any pregnant mares on their way to the hospital, or fence an old buffalo's horseshoes, or whatever else they've gotten up to during the occupation.

"Sliderack! Try and hang onto it this time!"

He begins to walk away. At the same time, Hulga chirps into your ear.

"Go on, mister Lucy. You have something?"
>> No. 40770790
File 142286898182.png - (177.39KB , 1000x1006 , Through the window!.png )
"Sliderack! Got it! I won't forget it! Probably! Also it's a really comfy pillow!"

Lunacy stumbles back towards the pillow, falling right on it and grabbing his phone. Questioning why Hulga's voice was going directly into his ears and not through his phone's speakers would be a silly one, for him of all ponies.

"Thunderfly. There was an airship named the Thunderfly. That's where this bloody atomichemical nuke was on - I need everything about it. I mean, most importantly where it came from and who Firejack hired it from, but other stuff can be useful too!"
>> No. 40770791
"Oh. Now you tell Hulga thing for skinnying of the look. Mister Lucy, you are shaping up to be difficult pony to work with."

Despite her objections to your conduct, Hulga is quick on the draw--in no time at all her talons are flying over the keyboard and the speakers are chiming notifications about this-that-and-the-other at her; and not long afterwards, your phone begins to beep loudly as it receives several files one right after the other. A quick look at your screen tells you all you need to know--Hulga's sending you spreadsheets, pictures, dossiers, police reports, manifestos: a small novel (or large pamphlet)'s worth of information on the Thunderfly and its reported sightings, dockings, and dealings from the last year or so.

"Hulga get you many shiny things. Maybe now Mister Lucy be better mood, ja?"
>> No. 40770792
File 142287059011.png - (194.86KB , 1000x1000 , Why yes, I DO want to start my free trial of AOL.png )
"Well, I mean, I didn't figure out what I needed until... alright, nevermind."

Going through these received documents almost as quickly as he receives them - a perk of being able to wire your brain directly into electronic devices, and the grin on Lunacy's face widens to almost painful levels.

"... Oh, oh, this is wonderful. Thank you dearly for this, and remind me to buy you a drink if I ever meet you in person."
>> No. 40770793
"Hulga do not forget. She drink like bird.

"You be having nice day, Mister Lucy. Hulga be here anytime!"


The phone hangs up.

Next stop: Cloodsdell. I mean, uh, Cloudsdale.
>> No. 40771434
File 142291877130.jpg - (4.37KB , 150x150 , Umi icon.jpg )
Umi hefted a boulder onto his back, water dripping down his sides, as he carried it to a crate. "Hell, it's easier then a lot of things I had to do, when I was young." The stone tumbled into the container with a rather loud rumble, Umi splaying his ears back at the sound, before returning to the freshly washed pile of rocks. "And who cares? These guards...they are plenty tough, in groups, with weapons. But did you see how three of them looked at us, in the rec area? Did you hear the hesitation in his voice?" He looked to Andrew, before giving a shrug.
>> No. 40771540

When you wake up, it's easy to think you've died and gone to heaven. Instead of the harsh stony damp of your cell, you awake upon a soft and velvety cushion; instead of the miserable dark of the prison, you're treated to a pleasantly warm candlelight; and it is, in fact, only the continued sensation in your limbs that lets you know you're still alive. Well, that and one other thing...

"Hello again, Carnage. Following your excellent behavior in our previous trials, your requests regarding the testing environment have been implemented."

Or four other things, depending on whether or not you count the four stone walls that surround you--or maybe only three, if you remember that one of the walls is actually a TV.

"Misbehavior on your part will lead to us re-instating the previous test conditions. Do you understand?
>> No. 40771560
"Mm..." Swiftwing winced and cringed a bit at the sound of the boulder tumbling. "Aye, I did notice... I recken they took a bit of a note from the little fight we had ourselves in. I'm of course not saying we couldn't handle a few of them isolated, but in a prison... there's much more than a few isolated guards." He chuckled. "Still, you make a good point and that's somethign to keep in mind."
>> No. 40771683
File 142294099842.jpg - (452.20KB , 1440x900 , Black_Lagoon_full_944030.jpg )
>Oh this crap again... was it really too much to hope for that last time's experiments would have been a one time deal? Waking up in the middle of the stone walled cell with candlelit environments on top of a velvet lined cushion. Still, even if she wasn't one for filly comforts, she could very well appreciate the lack of restraints or threats of electrocution.

Yea yea and I sure as hell don't want you frying my brain anymore than you already have for a few more of your tests.

>She answered in with an irritated tone of voice, her eyes scanning her dim surroundings for any sing of escape but unfortunately coming up short.

You know, if you could stop knocking me out with gas or whatever other crap you're using in my cell that would be great too.

Cos I've got to say I'm too much of a fan of that stuff you're using.
>> No. 40771698
"Your complaints have been logged and will be implemented pending your cooperation in this coming exam."

Hopefully, the examiner is going to keep as true to those words as he did his last; it would be nice indeed to have a look at the inside of the prison. If you can get them to take you to the testing lab while you're conscious--as they most assuredly will again--you'll be able to get a much better handle on this place before your inevitable escape. The Old Man always said discretion was the better part of valor; but that was only when he was cautioning you against taking an early sniper shot. He never drilled you on how to escape a maximum-security penitentiary--which, in retrospect, was a bit of an oversight on his part.

No time to think about that, though. With a small hiss of hydraulics, a small meter-wide square of the television spins around: it's a revolving cubby, like you see at the doctor's office--or rather, like you would see at the doctor's office if you didn't patch most of your wounds at the concourse. There's not a paper cup or syringe on the shelf, however: instead there is only a small silver gauntlet, upon which a long and thin metallic spike is mounted.

"The gauntlet on the shelf is fitted to your measurements exactly. After turning it on, it will begin to bore into your forehoof. As long as you maintain a normal breath and heartrate, no harm will come to you. If at any point your blood or breath rate exceeds normal levels, the bore will be driven off-course and will shatter your foreleg.

Upon successful completion of this test you will be rewarded with a personal favor.
>> No. 40771725
File 142294386041.png - (103.96KB , 348x398 , Hmm 4.png )
Salsa get up from the table and followed Amos outside. He looked around at the patrons. "Interesting bunch." he thought.


Salsa nodded to what Amos said about having what it takes. When they stopped at the alleyway, Salsa tensed up for a second. And gave him a suspicious look and also looking any weakness.

"I understand." He said before following him into the alleyway.
>> No. 40771726
File 142294388091.png - (122.44KB , 657x215 , 99 poles.png )

Celestia my fucking savior you people are goddamn mental.

>Carnage moved forward to take the silver gauntlet in her hooves, looking over the strange contraption with apprehension, she put the object in her mouth and moved back towards the plush velvety couch she had been so graciously offered for her good services. But even with the promise of a personal favor that could lead to her freedom, Carnage felt reluctant to cooperate with the researchers on this one, if only because the sole thing that had made her cooperate in the first place was the promise that she wouldn't be crippled by their experiments. Still, if what they said was true and she kept her heartbeat under control then it would all be alright, she wouldn't be crippled and she would still be able to escape when the time came.

>Taking a deep, calming breath whilst she sank into the plush cushions, Carnage mounted the gauntlet to her hoof, waiting for the needle to bore into her flesh with mild anticipation for the inevitable pain. Needles didn't bother her nor did pain in general but if the Pit had thought her anything it was to keep calm and be resourceful at the very worst of times. She would live through this and she would be free, no doubt about any of it, all of this was just a milestone on her path the glory.
>> No. 40771740
This isn't the first time you've had a sharp metal object jammed into you, and it definitely won't be the last. This isn't even the first time something's been jammed into your hoof in the one place you really really REALLY shouldn't jam things; so this is, in a word, far from the worst you've ever had. In a relatively clean environment like this, it won't abscess and it won't get infected and it probably won't even bleed. As the long thin bore starts up, and presses against your tender frog, and begins to spin in place, you feel relatively confident in your odds of success--but that's because nobody told you about the sound []. Nobody told you about the piercing, shrieking, stinging sound [] that pierces your skull and makes your ears fold and forces a quick and reactionary inhalation from you. As your nostrils flare and your hackles raise, the sound [] is the worst part of the whole ordeal: the pain in your hoof is minor at worst, and it doesn't get any worse as the drill pushes inch by agonizing inch into your hooves and up into your calves. Even when it hits your marrow--where things should get really painful--you barely feel a thing...

"Incision complete. On-course, too. Excellent work, Carnage.

And then with a noisy, breathy, and anticlimactic *THUMP*, the small metal bar is violently yanked from you and hurled across the room. Some gauze and disinfectant is already waiting in the cubby--which is considerate, you...think.

"You have qualified for the final preparatory exam. Please dress your hoof and let me know when you are comfortable."
>> No. 40771747
File 142294555961.png - (171.34KB , 202x724 , Glare.png )
>Grumbling under her breath and the ordeal and seeing the metal pin fly across the room by magical mean, Carnage glared at the TV screens in front of her and limped ever so slightly towards the open cabinet, grabbing the gauze and disinfectant, she expertly pressed the stuff around her wounded hoof with the smooth, practiced motions of someone whose had to do this over and over again in their lives.

The sound of that drill really sucks, you need to get it changed.

>She said with clenched teeth, her shackles slowly lowering as her nerves recovered from the incessant whine that all but pierced her skull with its insane noise. But once she was finally calmed down properly, Carnage sighed and nodded her head, looking extremely displeased with the situation she was forced in.

Alright, I'm ready for your next bullshit doc.
>> No. 40771751
File 142294566563.png - (732.43KB , 822x1024 , product_zps92f0474d.png )
"Keep it in mind, for when we get out of here." He flicked a wing, irritably, clearing the icy water from his feathers. "But for now, we bide our time." Or he hoped they did. Could he stay sane that long? Would he be able to follow his own statements, in the end? At the rate he was going, Umi figured he had a week, maybe a little more, before he became, well, what he was, what he was meant to be. Wouldn't they love to hear about that, back home?
>> No. 40771818
"Thank you, Carnage. The objective of this test is to study the videos I am about to display for you. When the videos are concluded I will ask you to describe them for me. The test commences now."

The television begins displaying videos, then--simple ones, at that. At a guess, you'd say they're footage from some new first-pony shooter game: the footage is all from pilot perspective, and the images are all digitized reconstructions of various military operations. There's no HUD, no timestamps, and no outward signs of phoniness--it's just hard to fool the equine eye without spending several entire fortunes on graphics. Really, the only genuinely out-of-place thing about the videos is the way in which they are presented: while they are definitely videos, and they are definitely playing, the examiner failed to mention that sixteen of them would be playing at once.

He also failed to mention that somehow you'd be able to follow them. Now, at last, the purpose of the strange sight experiment before becomes clear: for somehow, despite their erratic presentation and vastly different movements, you are able to process each image clearly and simultaneously. Mere weeks ago, when you were in the throes of scratch addiction, you could barely process one--but it seems that some of your old flair is returning. Though most ponies wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of it, you can clearly tell that the content of the videos is as follows:

At 0200 hours you can tell because one of them is wearing a watch, even though the skyboxes have been altered to make each one look like it's a different time of day an Equestrian special operations group you can tell because they're using a specialized swhinny only employed by Airborne divisions of the national army consisting of eight people divided into two groups of four descends upon an unidentifiable point off of the coat of Ibexia you can tell because only the Pangeni islands get this kind of lunar profile at 0200--four by air, four by sea, and proceed to negotiate two targets before six others become aware of them and things devolve into a clusterfuck. Suffice to say that what happens next is a desperate and frantic exchange of gunfire between the two parties that abruptly terminates in static after four of the nationals and five of the Ibexians have been rendered causalties two of the latter and one of the former nonfatally, it's worth mentioning.

This bout of rapid information absorption is far less painful than the last one. Hell, you're even still conscious at the end. When the tapes click off, the Examiner chimes in.

"What did you see, Carnage?"
>> No. 40772009
Swiftwing blew out a bit of air, sensed in a sigh of relief, Umi had seemed to adapt, or cope, real well with the prison so far... At least that's one less thing to worry about, he thought to himself silently, even though this was very well not a finished matter. A part of him felt Umi wasn't done... But the current shift gave him a moment to evaluate his own situation and see how himself was doing... ... ... He was in different at the moment... he was in prison for whoever knows how long... currently doing rather tiring manual labor, eliciting an annoyed "Why the fuck are we cleaning rocks??" He sighed and merely questioned, rather than revolted, not wanting a beating, attempting to heft rocks into their designated location... and what did he have after this? Well, what did anyone have after prison for that matter? But the thoughts still lingered as he knew he'd be out eventually.. the thoughts a major part that kept him going in this cold, dark place.

The blue stallion was just rather silent through the process after having checked up on Umi, keeping to himself as he began to tear himself down in his mind.
>> No. 40773146
File 142302895847.png - (243.57KB , 838x347 , buzzkill.png )
>Watching the videos start up with some apprehension for what was to come given how events had turned out the last time she'd been subjected to the scientist's videos, Carnage felt her mind somehow expand as she watched sixteen videos at once in a manner that allowed for her to understand and visualize them with a degree of detail she would never have been capable of before. It was distressing in a sense that she was now able to see and understand so much more than she ever had been before but it was also scary given that the ramifications for whatever they were doing to her were completely unknown. Would she end up a raving lunatic like Velvet before all of this was over?

>Once the video was over and the scientists asked for Carnage's cooperation, the legendary killer blinked her eyes a few times and shook her head, an irritated scowl forming on her face due in most part to the headache all of this was giving her.

God you guys are a pain... at least this time there wasn't some mare's couch in the data you're shoving in my head.

>She continued, pausing momentarily as she wrapped her head around the details before speaking aloud once more in a clear and concise monotone.

Military footage from an Equestrian Spec Ops group operation in Ibexia. At 0200 hours the group of eight divided into two groups of four where they proceeded to raid the location by air and sea to negotiate two targets. It all went well until they were spotted by a group of six and the entire thing turned into a bloodbath were four Equestrians and five Ibexians were shot down but the deathtoll says that only three Equestrians and four Ibexians where killed in the aftermath.
>> No. 40773147
File 142302976425.png - (904.43KB , 951x1001 , tumblr_nhsjwrCKYX1r4y7gho4_1280.png )
Umi continued working, content enough in the cold, damp room. It wasn't to bad down here. And hell, they could tunnel out, if they had about ten years of free time, and no checks from the guards. He could still feel his mental state trickling away, but it was slower. At this rate, he might even be in a sound mind, the other Sickles arrived. Not if, but when. He was sure they would come to break them out. If not for himself and Swiftwing, then for Carnage and Igneus. Hell, he'd be pissed if Carnage didn't get out. He hadn't gotten punched, kicked, and bitten, to help get her clean, just for the mare to die in this shit place. He nodded to himself, before settling one idea in his mind. Once they got out of here, he wouldn't beat around the bush. He'd talk to her, ask one question, and then whatever she said would determine what happened next.
>> No. 40773201
There is a moment of silence as the examiner records your result--and, presumably, compares it to what he was expecting. After a brief but poignant pause, he nods his head--you can see his rack of horns shake. It's anyone's guess how he moves his head when they're as large as they are; he must have neck muscles like a machine.

"Perfect marks, Carnage. You've passed the qualification testing.

"As promised, I have arranged a personal favor for you. Five minutes, with the individual of your choice, so long as it is within my power to provide it."
>> No. 40773203
File 142303669067.png - (104.34KB , 736x149 , Wanna make the bet.png )
>She thought about it, long and hard, Carnage's thoughts cycled into one another over and over again as names, titles and even places flowed into one another as she weighted the pros and cons of each individual option. She thought about meeting the leader of Lonestar and simply killing the asshole or at the very least insulting his mother to his face, thought about trading in the favor for a chance to call the Old Man and any number of people she knew to let them know what was going on and why, hell, she even considered asking to meet DJ N01Z3 in person so she could finish the job she started but none of them felt particularly right.

>Grinning deviously, Carnage looked up to the Ibexian's shadow, knowing full well what the one favor she could even ask for in her current circumstances was, the one most consistently important thing to her she would protect above anything else in the world.

Keep your people and meetings, hell, I don't even need a phonecall or cookies.

But if you could let my friends go then I'll help you guys out as much as I can.

I'll even stop swearing, swear on my mom.
>> No. 40773205
Again with the silence of anticipation: the Examiner bows his head and looks at something or another on his computer bank, before he raises it again. It'd be nice if you could get a better look at his face--when he's framed in silhouette like this, he looks almost otherworldly. It's really quite unpleasant; as is the news he delivers you a moment later. However, he does it in a slightly-more-remorseful monotone than usual--seems like he doesn't enjoy being the bearer of bad news. No surprise there, really: he's an egghead, not a jarhead.

"Your request has been noted and will be presented to the project director for approval. However, I must regrettably inform you that I am not currently authorized to release your compatriots: they have been detained for innumerable capital crimes.

"The meeting is all I am currently allowed to provide you with."
>> No. 40773207
File 142303760870.png - (458.31KB , 659x673 , Can't be with him.png )
>Well shit, so much for that plan. If they had been allowed to go free then the crew might have moved on and prospered without her. It was a bitter thought that, the idea that they would leave her behind and go on with their lives but bitter as it was it still was infinetly better then the idea that they might spend the rest of their lives in jail because of her inability to carry their asses out of danger when they needed her most.

Fuck... well...

>But while her disapointment stewed in her head, Carnage thought again about who she wanted to meet if she had the chance. Again, the Old Man was the single most prominent thought to come to mind but they would likely arrest him the second he would come on the premisses and it was unlikely they'd let her get a phone call.

>And as each of her thoughts came to a head, her mind somehow found itself drifting towards her cellmate Velvet and what had been done to her. Now again, Carnage knew virtually nothing about magic, technology or any such thing more complex than the working mechanics of a complex firearm but if there was any way might be able to help the loony then...

Can I meet with the person in charge with Velvet's case?

I'm not versed at all in magic or technology but... there's something I need to ask them.
>> No. 40773209
File 142303799455.png - (438.20KB , 1881x1333 , kurtz1.png )
"Do you wish to meet the project director, or the doctor responsible for her examination?"

It's a simple enough question, but the answer could make all the difference in the world. The difference between some deep-pocketed know-nothing and some mangy half-mad genius is a considerable one even in the tamest of times; but in this particular case it might very well spell the difference between knowing why, knowing how, and knowing what, or not knowing anything at all. Or maybe it won't, and both parties are adequately informed as to Velvet's condition--or maybe it's a trick question and they're the same person and the Examiner is trying to trip you up and deny you information, or maybe he just never realized they're the same person, or maybe a dozen other things beside. It's a little silly to worry over a question as simple as this, but then again what else are you going to do in jail?
>> No. 40773211
File 142303826638.png - (45.58KB , 676x112 , huh 3.png )

I need to talk to her Doc.

>Its a simple enough choice for her, the questions she had in mind had little to do with funding or directing of some large scale project that may or may not have to do with demons and alien levels of technology. What she had in mind was, well, a lot more personal than that and she was pretty sure that only someone who was deeply knowledgeable about her condition could really answer the question.
>> No. 40773214
At this point, Swiftwing just remained silent as he worked through the mine and rocks, german suplexing the rocks into the carts, asking to no one in particular, or rather stating. "I don't get what the point of this is..." he answered. "I mean, I get its supposed to be harsh, manual labor, but it seems pointless, what are they gunna do with these rocks..?" he continued to think aloud silently, before letting out a bit of a sigh. Without Umi to worry about, and he did not want to make a big deal obsessing about his friend, he knew his friend was capable of handling himself, that just left Swiftwing to himself.. He looked around idly, for any guards or other inmates, almost as if imagining and hoping something would pop out of the blue.
>> No. 40773229
Umi looked to Swiftwing, perking his ears, slightly, as he heard his quiet mutters. Well, why else did you haul rock? Digging! The Lonestars were digging something, and it had to be something they wanted, because there wasn't many other reasons to use prisoners as laborers. They could have been put to work cleaning and repairing, but instead they were here, hailing rocks and cleaning more paths. He chucked a rock from where he was, watching it fall into the crate, before hauling more out. The question he had left was 'what were they digging to?'
>> No. 40773232
"This shall be arranged. Please make yourself comfortable while I retrieve him. Please keep your forehooves above your head and do not make any sudden movements."

With that, the room goes dark. The gentle light from the television screen is shut down unceremoniously, and the faux-candles in the window are quickly snuffed. The Examiner vanishes from sight, and you are left alone to contemplate the nature of your situation. Despite the crushing darkness of the room, at least it's warm and the cushion is comfortable--it's sort of like the bed-under-the-mountain, where the Old Man reared you. Those were nicer times, in a nicer place: for though the horizon glowed green and the wind screamed loud, the world around you was alive: the mountain of trash was alive, and the rats and the worms were alive, and the Old Man was alive as he held you close neath the blankets he wove himself. Maybe one day you'll go back there...

"...mare is a fucking PSYCHOPATH!"

Presently there is a muffled commotion from somewhere behind you: raised voices and stomping hooves, along with the sound of slides racking and--most importantly of all--night vision goggles powering up. As the dull whine filters into the room, the wall behind you opens up, to admit a rush of bright white light; and then with a muffled little scream, someone is hurled onto the floor and the door is slammed shut with a CLANG. Then you are in the dark again.

"Carnage, by your request."

With a noisy *THUNK* the power comes back on in the room; and as your eyes adjust to the light, you start to wish they hadn't. There before you, flanked by two armed Lonestars, is a zebra in a labcoat--and OH, what a zebra he is. He is similar in appearance to Farasi, with an extra thirty or forty years of age: his face is a mass of scars and mange, and his mane has fallen away in patches. One eye is covered in cataracts, and his teeth are yellowed to a frankly disturbing degree. The only things that differentiate him from the average lunatic are the labcoat, and the strange way in which he holds his hooves--almost as though he's holding an invisible keyboard. His voice is squeaky and icy-cold: a mismatched breath of cruelty. With a nervous little cough, he addresses you:

"...Goodbye, Carnage. I am thrilled to see you..."

"Meet Doctor Ammitai Proudhoof."
>> No. 40773269
File 142304130160.jpg - (446.10KB , 1063x1500 , 1418731324064.jpg )

Hey there buddy, you look like shit.

>Carnage smiled a cold, hungry expression as she looked into the Zebra's eyes, her own neon red gaze piercing through his own old and maddened eyes. That Zebra's expression, she had seen it before, over and over again in the course of her career. It was the look of someone who was both afraid and disgusted with what she was capable of doing, but more importantly than that, it was an expression that held the experience of having actually seen some of those things and knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that they absolutely did not want to have anything to do with her. So essentially, it was the exact same expression that all of Carnage's old acquaintances have whenever they see Star Fall and mistake her for her mother.

>But even as she recognized that the man knew him, Star Fall didn't panic or feel troubled in the least by any of it. This wasn't her first time dealing with this situation and she had spent her entire life impersonating her mother to the degree where it was the same thing as being herself. If anything this was going to be fun... it was always something to fuck around with these old assholes and make them thing she'd rip them apart for the smallest of imagined insults just like dear ol' mum would've done.

Lemme cut to the chase here, I'm sure we can reminisce about the good ol' days later.

Can Velvet's condition be fixed Yes or No?

If No then can it be controlled or changed?
>> No. 40773290
"That's an interesting question and I love that you want to know that. Only clever ponies want to know something like that, and I'd l-l-love to explain it to you!"

In addition to a barely-controlled stutter, doctor Proudhoof has a host of nervous tics in his hooves and face: his ears twitch and his tail swishes and his hooves seem to dance back and forth like they have a mind of their own. As he plants his gaze on you, his good eye rolls around in its socket; and after a few moments of silence, one of the Lonestar escort speaks up.

"He says he doesn't appreciate your question."

This seems to anger the good doctor, who stomps his hooves against the ground and whinnies another spiel at you.

"She needs f-fixing because she is b-broken! Her m-mind doesn't work that way!"

"...He says she's functioning just fine."
>> No. 40773738
File 142307704477.png - (489.66KB , 3000x3645 , Challenge Accepted.png )
Groaning a bit as he hoisted another large rock into the crate, Swiftwing huffed and brushed off some dust from his hooves. "Man this is reeeeally fucking boring too." he chuckled out a slight bit, letting out a groaned sigh to add. He did idly hoof around the ground a bit, as if digging a small hole that didnt' really lead anywhere and wasn't more than just hoofing at the ground a couple times. "At least we haven't been having anymore trouble with fights or shit. I guess lessons were learned." he grinned a faint bit.
>> No. 40774005
File 142309035040.png - (874.85KB , 696x696 , umi not smug___.png )
"Maybe..." Umi said, quietly. "Or they're waiting and biding time. Higher numbers, better weapons. They could just be waiting for us to get comfortable." He dusted his hooves off, checking them for damage, before getting back to work. "And if those six learned, then I can almost guarantee that the only thing they learned was to bring more with them." He hefted a rock, closer to the size of Swiftwing's head. "Wish we could take one of these with us...Even a smaller, chipped one. Something sharp. Hell, something that could even do a little more damage in a fight. I don't think they're going to be coming at us with just horse shoes, if it happens again..."
>> No. 40774166
File 142310019198.png - (72.30KB , 802x995 , wat do you mean 'jailbait'.png )
"Uh-huh.." Swifwing raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So what, you think they'll try bringing sharpened rocks and toothbrushes like in tv shows and movies? Seems a bit cliche but I guess it's a possibility." he commented, sighing as he exerted a bit of force to lift up yet another sizable rock and dump it in with the others. "I feel more confident using my own hooves, I personally think I do more damage with them, but if you wanna try slipping a rock out of here then be my guest... not sure how you'd manage that though. You already have the hoof rest though, right?"
>> No. 40774300
File 142311596107.png - (95.71KB , 482x246 , Does I look happy to you.png )
>Growling a malcontent sound of irritation at the twitchy zebra, Carnage glared at the zebra and had to hold herself back from knocking him upside the head for the stupid shit he was spouting at her.


Are you fucking retarded you little shit?

I didn't ask for your fucking opinion, I asked you if you could make her sane enough to hold a fucking conversation with someone without her trying to bite the bars in her cell thinking they're fucking candy.

>Everything about her breathed violence and indignation, if the zebra pushed her she might just go after him and teach him some manners of her own regardless of what the guards might do in response. Hell, she might get a good few hits home before the guards intervened. In a sense, that would be a big part to her returning the favor for what they'd done to Velvet's sanity.

Last edited at Wed, Feb 4th, 2015 22:59

>> No. 40774301
File 142311677379.png - (1.54MB , 2480x3507 , Man-Pretty Overkill.png )
"I don't know what they'll bring. They already had horse shoes. They might be able to get their hooves on anything. Think about it. The guards want us to suffer. Have you heard bounties being put on anypony else in here? They want us to suffer, and they probably wouldn't hesitate to arm the other prisoners a bit more." He looked to Swiftwing, his gaze level and even. "We need to prepare for more, and be ready for anything. In the rec room, or the cafeteria, we stay alert, and try to keep our backs covered. I'm not dying to some wannabe shit that wants to make a buck."
>> No. 40774302
File 142311680986.jpg - (30.35KB , 400x533 , spoiler.jpg )
ya fuckin POOTIS
>> No. 40774305
File 142311781594.png - (688.11KB , 2750x3437 , not b8.png )
"So then we'll have to start being creative.." he replied, turning back to Umi. "Like with the hoof rest..." He rubbed his neck, looking around. "And a rock? Damn, I was really never that creative with the weapons. I mean, it's as simple as anything you can pick up and swing." he looked around at the ground. "I could probably snuggle a few of these in my wings to be honest... I'm not sure where we'd put them, but if you want one to just like.. hold as you punch somepony I guess?"
>> No. 40774314
File 142311847407.png - (576.89KB , 1345x1345 , Another pic.png )
"Shale. Flint. Slate." He looked to Andrew, moving to work beside him, and speak even more softly. "They can chip and break into sharp chunks." He nodded, slightly. "We hide it in the gutter, and keep it there, until we go to the rec area. When we're there, we'll have something to help keep us safe, for the time." He looked around. "Flint would be the best. Short and thin. I can chip it into a decent enough knife, on the floor of the cell." He nodded, liking this plan. "You do a great job with hooves alone, but I prefer something...more."
>> No. 40774336
File 142311925278.png - (420.30KB , 2600x2394 , and then there's this filly!.png )
"Uhhh, okay I get ya..." He looked around a bit, roaming his hooves over the floor to check for any of it. "I guess... wait, do you wanna handle finding whatever you wanna use then?" he asked. "And i'll continue with loading up?"
>> No. 40774349
File 142311960608.png - (148.80KB , 378x395 , test me.png )
"Sure. But if you see any flint, tuck it away. That's the money right there. It chips easily into a sharp edge, and it's decently tough. We get ahold of that stuff, and we're in the clear." He smiled, thinly, thinking of the damage he could do with it. This would be good.
>> No. 40774354
File 142311986092.jpg - (364.16KB , 900x636 , Astros440900pix.jpg )
"Will do." Swiftwing nodded in return, before going on with business as usual, whistling nonchalantly as he tossed away boulders, starting to idly gather some of what he asked for, while looking for flint.
1d10 = 6 target 2 for flint
>> No. 40774369
Umi looked around, as well, sighing, as he occasionally tossed a rock into the bins. There had to be a good one, nearby. Something, anything at all, that could be chipped into a short blade. Shivs were garbage to him. He craved a blade, or as close to one as he could get. Granted, he would have liked to stud the hoof rest with flint shards, and use that, but that was completely out of the question. He gazed about the ground, as he went, praying and hoping for that one bit of luck he needed, to find that rock so desperately craved.
>> No. 40774371
1d10 = 1
(Target 4, to find some more flint.)
>> No. 40774373
1d10 = 1
>> No. 40774375
1d10 = 3
>> No. 40774377
Geez! It was like flint was the ground they were walking on! Swiftwing was practically flicking it up off the ground and tucking them into his wings, wincing as they got deep in there, grinding agsinst the skin underneath. "Shit theres a ton here.."
>> No. 40774388
Umi froze, slightly, as he found something so much better then flint. A small dagger, probably dropped by a more careless guard, was partially buried under a bit of rubble. He couldn't believe it. He smiled, thinly, a laugh straining to get out of him. Those morons. How could they be so careless? He walked back to Andrew, nodding to the spot he found the knife in. "There's some rocks over there that need moved, Swiftwing. Can you get those, while I hose down the next area? The area he nodded to seemed unassuming, just a pile of stone, though the blade of the knife glimmered in the soft lighting. They had it now. A real weapon, to help keep them safe. But it would do more then that. He could end others, if he wanted to. If the desire struck him, he could end them, send their lives spiraling down the drains in the showers.
>> No. 40774390
File 142312767140.jpg - (509.12KB , 972x547 , suffering.jpg )
"Anyone can cure p-p-possession! There's nothing inside her, the D-demon hasn't touched her! She can never see what is beyond and she is in control!"

Doctor Ammitai bites on his lip and scrunches up his face, as he takes a few deep breaths and stamps his hooves against the ground. He scowls and snarls and raises his hackles, as he struggles to collect himself; and after a long and painful silence he pins his ears, lunges forward, and screams at the very top of his lungs:

"INCURABLY INSANE! She is broken beyond repair because an equine mind is not meant for the things that were done!"
>> No. 40774391
File 142312862257.png - (134.10KB , 809x281 , You're fucking dead.png )
>The look Carnage gave Ammitai then was one of absolute hatred that bore into him down to his very soul. He had aligned himself with the demon who had tried and failed to kill her and her crew over and over again, if anything, he had just confessed to working with the very monstrosity who had seen to it that innumerable copies of her past foes would claw their way out of their graves to fight herself and her comrades. That alignment made him the enemy. No matter who this pony was to her mother, this Carnage would see to it that this asshole was punished for his crimes against The Sickles and Velvet.

That so?

And what did you do to her?

Was it something your demon pall asked of you or was it your own personal project at work?

>She asked in a tone of voice that could only be described as frigid, her own body language suggesting that she was absolutely livid and about to go freaking berserk on the man if he so much as uttered the wrong sentence at this point in time.
>> No. 40774392
File 142312901091.jpg - (169.60KB , 1266x750 , life.jpg )

He shakes his head and scowls, slapping himself over the cheek as his queer verbal tic retakes its hold--at least, that's what you think it is. It's entirely possible there's a third motivation you haven't conceived of--possible, but unlikely. He spins in a circle, his ears twitching madly and his tail flicking spinning round and round like a ceiling fan; and only after several rotations does he again address you. Clearly this zebra is suffering from a number of psychological ailments, the nature of which you can only approximate.

"It was complex business. Make a mare that is always seen. And we failed! She, she flourished under the joy of having a spell that was never on! Her mind was meant for it!"
>> No. 40774393
File 142313352780.png - (141.94KB , 671x240 , I'll kill you.png )
>Well now that wasn't complex or anything, all they had tried to do was make a spell that made it so that she could always be seen only for it to backfire in that when the spell was off nobody could look at her. Made sense really, in a completely demented kind of way. So fine, even if her mind was beyond repair, that wasn't exactly what she needed, in the end, all that mattered was to find a way to control her condition to escape.

Well how about this then, if the spell is always off and that makes it so we can't look at her then why don't you use that soft quivering butt of yours to find a way to turn the spell on again.

If you don't then I'll kill ya.

>A simple enough proposal, she had presented her terms to the doctor and he, in turn, would provide with an answer. If he was too deluded to understand that no prison could stop her from coming true on her promises then he would just have to find out the hard way what it means to cross a legend.
>> No. 40774394
"You brilliant angel, do you realize that she is valuable--not like you, you're disposable! You, you failed every single test--you've changed so much from how I remember you! Slower, dumber, not a trace of scratch in you! Really, just horrible working conditions! I'm terrified of you! By the time I start with you you'll understand everything!"

Doctor Ammitai snorts and slaps one of his Lonestar escort on the shoulder; and then the trainee, with a bashful and mildly uneasy expression, raises his hoof to the side of his mouth and speaks to you: apparently you're meant to pretend that him speaking to you sidelong like this somehow keeps your conversation from being heard by the doctor himself.

"You, uh...just reverse everything he says. He's got a small speech condition."
>> No. 40774395
File 142313656951.png - (393.05KB , 805x472 , Being Thorough 2.png )

That so?

>Carnage's cold, hateful eyes roamed from the trainee to the doctor. The blood she had spilled and hundreds of lives she had already taken reflecting in her eyes in the form of an absolute disdain for life that was almost palpable in the air. If ever he thought that he had nothing to fear from this mare of murder and bloodshed born then he was truly and ultimately insane.

>For as the realization that everything he had said had to be taken into reverse then a cold and dreadful fury descended upon the mare, one that would only be satisfied once this man and his institution were naught but ashes for the winds of time to blow away from the face of the Earth. This stallion had willingly aligned himself with a demon, a creature of pure malevolence and evil for his own advancement and the promise of being part of a greater work, he had seen to it that a mare would be possessed by a demonic entity and her sanity ruined all for the sake of a single experiment of his making. The spell that was cast on her was always on and it would always be until the demon that fueled the spell was removed from her. Her mind might not come back, that much might be lost forever but at the very least she would be freed from the burden forced on her by these soulless maniacs.

Then I guess that makes things a lot simpler for me then.

I'll just kill the demon before I burn this prison to the ground.

>The way she spoke those words were not a vain promise, rather her words rang with the weight of prophecy, a truth that she would put all her weight behind and not rest until she had seen true to the end. Much like she had done for the ponies who had ruined her life by taking away the very chance of her living a normal life with her mother and father, she now swore an unbreakable blood oath that would come true... one way or the other.
>> No. 40774422
While continuing to stupidly, at least in comparison, stuff his wings with flint, Swiftwing looked over to Umi as he noted the larger stallion's behavior, raising an eyebrow in curiosity and waiting to be let in. "Hmm?" He looked over at the pile of rubble as he was alerted to it. "Uh, yeah sure." He replied, trotting over a bit before he actually caught the glimpse in his eyes, in where his widened. Was that real? Did someone really leave a friggin' knife out here? Well, one way or the other, he knew what he had to do... even if it'd cut a couple feathers, though he'd do his best not to. He dragged a cart over to the pile and began to dig around it nonchalantly, wings draping down to the ground, covering the view as he was picking up rocks, and tossing them behind himself and into the cart, taking a split second to get the knife and wince a bit as he tried to tuck it deeper into the fluff of his feathers, while praying he wouldn't get caught, he did have to lighten the load, shaking out a couple pieces of flint, leaving in another couple.
>> No. 40775193
File 142318311607.jpg - (480.04KB , 1304x1304 , blue_stallion_commish_by_annasko-d5lyq37.jpg )
The stallion shot Swiftwing a why smile, still hardly able to believe his luck. He could hardly wait now. Showers would no longer be as stressful. Meals would be less worrisome. His wings flicked, discarding flecks of water and dust. That might have been the part of this job that he hated. The dust and sweat and water mixing, and sitting heavy in his coat. Each day they did this, the stallion would be several shades darker in color, until they were taken to the rec area again. Another rock went sailing across the room, landing in a bin, as Umi took up his work again, in earnest.
>> No. 40775283
File 142318589555.png - (92.91KB , 857x932 , Not bad.png )
A smile- no- grin that was returned.... which hid hints of pain as he coudl feel the few minuscule cuts and pokes that might come with one hiding a dagger in his feathers, wincing as he had to hope really hard he wasn't caught with it.. Either way, his smile didn't falter as he went back to work with Umi, shoveling rocks away. "I.. wonder how Carnage and Igneus are doing..." he thought aloud again. "Hope it's as smooth as us. I guess there's a separate wing for dragons." he added on, wiping a bit of that dirt and sweat from his forhead as his wings were tightly tucked to his sides.
>> No. 40775296
"Dunno...I hope they're okay. I swear, if we all died, because we tried to help Igneus...I'm haunting his ghost." He shakes his head, smiling a little. "And Carnage? Well...I haven't so much as seen her, since we got in here. But as I said, if we're surviving, she's probably thriving." Truth be told, he was worried about the other two. They had not so much as heard about them, and that worried the barbarian even more. Carnage and Igneus had far longer rap sheets then he and Andrew, so for all he knew, they were already dead. The thought was not a good one, at all. But then again, these guards seemed the type to gloat, or show off. He and Andrew might have had to watch, or they might have been fastlaned to stand beside them, as the guns were loaded. Or however they killed ponies in here.
>> No. 40775490
"Yes you will."

With a snort, doctor Ammitai spins on his hooves once more, as he starts back towards the door. One of the Lonestars holds up a hoof to stop him, before a nod from the Examiner: it seems your time is up. Once again, the door opens, and Ammitai steps out into a dimly-lit hallway beyond; and with their weapons trained on you, the Lonestars slowly step out behind him and push the door shut. In this way, you are left alone with your vow and the shadowy Examiner.

"I am afraid your time is up, Carnage. Are you ready to return to your cell?"
>> No. 40775508