Anger, confusion, fear, murder, death, and evil. All of this filled his thoughts. It wasn't the act of feeling these emotions, or performing these actions, but the idea that revolves around them. It left so many more questions than what he could come up with. What was real? What was fake? Did they really meet those shadowy figures or was that all part of the trick? So many questions. So many can not find an answer. His mind was so busy thinking about what just happened back there that he barely even knew that his other two partners in this questionable little business of his were even there. His ears were folded as he walked, not really saying anything to the others. Amos was speechless.

He walked down the sidewalk, still wearing what he would during any job; his helmet, duster coat, suit, and other gear that served him during a needed time. It didn't feel so much as a narrow path he had to take since what happened at the Burning Bush, but now he felt as if he was drowning in questions. Life seemed so simple. It seemed so predictable. It seemed so... redundant. That all changed because of one night. Before then, all Amos could think to do was live life as if dying was just the memory of him ever existing would be erased within a decade. It seemed to be the fate of every pony around him. Live, die, be forgotten by everyone. That's what drove him to try and make this business something more than what others might expect. But now it was gone.

It did not stop him, however, as the loss of the bitter image that he tried to fight only left him with a blank canvas. He felt like he could do anything now, if he planned it right. Like fate could no longer guide every inch of him.

Despite feeling more confident on his own potential, along with the potential of his associates, the questions that filled him only left him as a silent figure, walking down the sidewalk. It could be assumed that he was heading back to their apartments but they were so far away it was hard to tell. They were certainly heading in a direction that could lead that way, that's for sure. It all depended on who was watching, though.

Last edited at Fri, Mar 27th, 2015 02:53

That had been, well, an event. It had felt good, felt right, to be part of the group that ruined Lonestar. And hell, he had learned a few things. Andrew knew how to drive, humvee doors weren't as sturdy as he had thought, and Igneus can throw cars at helicopters. So that was a learning experience! The stallion had been up most of the night, repairing, buffing, and polishing his armor, trying to return it to the shine and condition that he had come to expect of himself.

Satisfied with his work, the stallion emerged from the bar, in the little shanty town he had come to call home, for now. Looking up, before realizing there wasn't much to see, as per usual, the pegasus simply began walking. He knew, vaguely, where he could and could not go. That was the important part. That afforded him some form of freedom, and freedom was the key to coming down, after a mission. And the mission that wasn't even a week past was certainly required some 'coming down'. And nothing helped one come back to reality quite like a simple walk.

He looked around, as he went, his hooves sure and his wings ready to carry him, should he meet an unknown pit. He had a list, and quite a long one. He needed more items. Armor, augments, he had to talk to Carnage, the bulwark..and then there were the items on the list that, he hoped, only the old man knew about, so far. When would be the right time to tell the team? Should he tell them? Part of him wanted to explain where he was from, and the transgressions he was guilty of. That part knew that something was going to come for him. Well, not something. He knew full well what it was going to be, and who it was going to be. Would the way of the world really allow anything else? But there was another part, a more quiet part, that wanted him to remain silent, and continue working. That part knew that shit would hit the fan, and he'd be cleaning it up afterwards. He stopped, rubbing a hoof across his muzzle, and looking up, as if to ask for some greater power to send him a sign, or even a distraction. A distraction would be nice. At least when he was distracted, he wasn't worried.

>>40833724
"Um... you pretty much got it, right on the money." He chuckled. "It's a shit hole down here obviously, but we're just kind of roughin' it down here until we get our faces not-so sought out for murder, I wouldn't really want to go back to prison again." he chuckled out as some low-run bar began to get into view that he seemed to be approaching in the what could possibly be considered growing and renovating small town.

The lack of an answer to Amos' phone earlier had him conflicted, or, at the very least, it would when he finally found himself taken off the morphine, and would realize all at once how much he wished he could have some more. It was likely they were out to work, at that point, but it had been several hours since then, and he'd been expecting some sort of response. Naturally, his thoughts turned to the worst, as Poet was wont to do. This was merely part of what made him so perceptive as he was, or so he liked to think. Were they dead, or perhaps arrested? Merely wounded? Any combination of the three? As he lay there alone, his awareness steadily expanding to scan and ascertain the room around him, he found himself feeling strangely little at the thought of their eventual fortunes, be it fear, elation, relief, or annoyance to any degree.


Maybe it was just the lingering effects of the painkillers he so dearly craved. True, his mind had been dulled, to say the very least, and he was well aware of the effects of the drug on his body, having been an aspiring anesthesiologist himself once - funny how that turned out - yet those last few hours had been ones spent in a perfectly blissful lack of agony whilst his bones knit themselves back together. To find himself in the midst of it once more had brought a rolling, frightful groan to his lips, the sensation akin to being doused in ice water immediately upon exiting a perfectly warm jacuzzi.


With pain came clarity, however, whether he wished it or not, and so long as he was left alone in the wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep for the overwhelming sensation of his body slowly putting itself back together, he decided he may as well spend it distracting himself in some inane fashion. Finding it was not quite the time for a heartfelt reflection, Poet instead proceeded to busy himself reading a few old classics he'd managed to dig up some time ago, and copied over to his phone.


The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide...

>>40833793
What was it like in there? I've heard stories about prison, but it's hard to sort out bullshit from facts when it comes to a place like that.

>>40834041
Swiftwing let out a faint sigh, followed by a chuckle. "What was it like in prison?" He asked himself again, a smirtk crossing his lips as he recalled the events that occured, being surprised he hadn't repressed them. He remembered the absolutely horrid start, "When we arrived, they blasted us wit hoses, freezing water, nearly drowned us on the spot... then they beat us down, broke most of our legs." He began. "Not the warmest of welcomings, then they tossed us in our crummy cells which didn't even have beds, they just had hoof rests for us to lean on against the wall. We stayed in our cells for 12 hours at a time before being allowed 15 minutes of 'free' time in the shower area with a bunch of the other inmates. One of the guards took it upon himself to put a bounty on Umi and I's cutie marks, and iwht broken legs the first day was pretty rough just taking a beating, but we ran into a gang called the 'Blue Birds' who had our backs until we could take care of ourselves." A wider grin crossed his lips. "And did we ever take care of ourselves."

"A couple more days went by, counting them by the 12 hour shifts, and before long we were able to fight for ourselves." He chuckled. "Showers quickly turned into a blood bath. 2v3, or 2v6, we quickly made our mark on the prison, showed we weren't to be messed with... aaaand that we weren't safe, as we were then thrown in solitary confinement which was like, a 2x4 room, I swear I don't even think Umi could turn around in his." he chuckled a bit.

"By the way, it was just Umi, Carnage, Igneus, and I who were in prison, Umi and I were in the same cell, Igneus was in another block, and Carnage... well I can't honestly say much on her behalf of what her experience was like...."

>>40834043
>Gren walked along and listened intently to her small blue friend.
>As she heard more about the horrors of the prison she looked quite ill as if someone had just punched her in the gut.
>once he finished his story she sat in silence before speaking up.
Sounds like you guys lucked out meeting them Blue Birds, I wonder how different the story would be, or if we'd even be here talking about it, but good to hear you guys all made it out in one piece. Even if those pieces were broken a few times.
>Gren would look up to the sky, or whatever was up at the time
Jeez this place sure is bleak ain't it.

>>40834044
Noticing his friend's expression he realized it may have given the adverse effects to listen of how he described the events. "Um.. well yeah, we were." He nodded. "It all was uh, pretty scary to say, at the start, but I knew we wouldn't have anymore problems after we showed just how tough we were." He grinned a small bit, noticing her stopping and sitting. "It's not too clean, yeah, but that's the idea. The Old Man was telling us if we stuck our head out into the overworld we'd get sniped right off." He gave a slight chuckle.

>>40834057
>Gren would tilt her head slightly
Old man? Someone new to the group?
>she would continue walking on to where ever it was they were going as she asked

>>40834060
Swiftwing shook his head as they stepped up to a small bar down the road, not the nicest of bars compared to what they were used to back over the city, but just about on par for the rest of the town they were in, if that's any bit comforting. Swiftwing opened the door for Gren to step in first, it could be possible there were more of their teammates inside, but he wasn't with anyone else to begin with, and everyone was probably off doing their own thing anyways. "THe Old Man is Carnage's dad." He explained. "Though I think we do actually have someone new to the group, a unicorn mare. Goes by Karma. I haven't really goten to meet her that much myself.

>>40834062
>Gren would walk into the bar and try and take in the good, if there even was any in a place like this.
Well, it's not a total shit hole.
>she chuckles and waits for andrew to get in too

>>40834078
He was stepping in just after her, letting the door close behind him with a chuckle. "Right. I mean, there's still worse places around. Just be careful with what you order." He teased around a bit as he stepped up to the counter to take a seat

>>40834092
Yea I think I'll be waiting till I head back up to be ordering anything to drink. Seems to me a place like this is a great way to get some weird disease.
>She would take a seat next to him still taking in her surroundings

>>40834105
"Smart decision." He replied with a smirk as he sat up a bit at the stool he was at with her, as his scorpion augmented tail gave a slight flick. "There's also a bit more to the story, however... Well, not so much with the prison... but do you remember hearing about Firejack?" He asked.

That was an extraordinarily deep question that honestly took her aback by a great deal. Even his awkward delivery flew mostly over her head. It was funny how no one had asked her that question. Not even Sam. And of all the people to bring it up, it just had to be their two faced, murderous zebra serial killer. The gun went down to the ground and her glasses came off her eyes. She gave him a look that was halfway between shock and deep thought. Staring right through him but at the same time giving him most of her attention.

"That is...well a bit of a difficult question." Frost bit her lip hard. Trying to find words. A task that seemed infinitely more difficult now. "I remember my chest being shredded to pieces. I remember being in a lot of pain, I remember it being hard to breath.I remember drowning in my own blood and than after? Nothing. No more pain, no more struggling. Its a lot like sleeping but much deeper than that."

She rubbed the back of her neck. None of that felt really right. It almost sounded cliche but how else could she describe it? "That is the simplest way I can put it...but I don't know really. It might be different for me." Now this traversed the realm between merely awkward and difficult to discomfort for her. "Not even sure if this is the first time. Could have died when I fell off the Wintersoldier building into straight up ice and I probably should have burned to death back in the prison rescue. Getting shot just happened to be the most...dramatic for me."

>>40834212
The zebra was enraptured by her; he stood at rapt attention, hanging on her every word, albeit with a blank, stiffly neutral look on both his faces. His good eye gleamed with a strange intensity, like he meant to bore a whole into her. The faint motion that breathing necessitated was his only movement, until he finished; he jerked back to life, nodding slowly. His focus wandering again, brow furrowing as best it could with one half being cleaved in two.

"I see..." Farasi muttered slowly. He was deep in thought again, rolling this over in his head contemplatively. "Thank you... I just... I wanted to know."

His good eye flicked back to her; it was as wide as ever, if not wider, matching the artificial one for once.

"Do you think you're immortal?"

>>40833971
And meanwhile, downstairs, a bleary-eyed unicorn chats with one of the nurses, trying to figure out what name Poet would be registered under. They'd had a successful job, after all. Majorly successful, really. The drugs were distributed, they were out of debt, and the future from here was pretty wide open... Amos could celebrate with the other guy. Or not celebrate, as the case may be. Still, somebody needed to deliver Poet his share.

He eventually figures out the room number, taking the elevator up to Poet's floor, coughing once on the way up. When the elevator dings its arrival, he steps out and walks down the hall to Poet's room, knocking twice on the door or nearest knockable object.

"Poet, mon. You in dere?"

>>40834363
Oh! thought the cream colored pony as he heard the gentle knock, and the sound of...well, perhaps about the friendliest voice he'd heard since he got into this so-called business. He looked up from his phone and set it aside, clearing his throat momentarily. So...at least one of them had survived. He supposed that was good. If nothing else, Driftwood did seem to be the more amiable one of they four. Poet simply wasn't certain how he felt about that.

Nonetheless, he wasn't trying to kill him, he was pretty certain, and so, he spoke aloud, his voice still clouded ever so slightly by the residual drug effects, but for the most part, Poet sounded sober and reasonably alert. "Driftwood. Yes, I am indeed present. How very nice to...er, hear you. By all means, you are free to enter. If they have not locked me up in here, that is. I would not put it past them, given the circumstances, but I hear that I am free..."

>>40834335

Several things struck her as odd though as she thought a little more into the matter, she really had no right to feel that way. How else was one supposed to react to a pony, or whatever she was, coming back from the dead like that? There was no proper protocol to follow in this situation. Single minded, intense show of attention was probably exceedingly normal for anyone. In fact it was probably a whole lot tamer than what normal probably should have been. Frost kept a neutral face through it all, or at the very least she tried. It was yet another deep question and this produced an intense reaction of her own. Focus not so much on him, but on herself this time.

"Well typically dragon's have exceedingly long life spans. Much longer than a normal pony, that is for sure...but I am not really a normal pony now am I?" She took a few glances down to the ground, as if catching sight of something interesting. In truth the question disturbed her more than anything, and what better way to remedy that than trying to catch glimpses of mutated insects scurrying in the dirt.

"Or a normal dragon even. Being perfectly honest? I just don't know. I don't know if I am immortal or if something is keeping me alive...I am pretty sure something is trying to kill me at least. How else do you explain it all? Like top of the line military hardware blowing up in my face. Twice." Now came a much more grounded tone. A hint of bitterness but that passed as soon as it had come.

"All I have to go on is what my "father" told me, but that only tells me so much. In hindsight I probably should have asked him more questions instead of trying to kill him but what can I do? I thought I was doing the right thing. I am not going to apologize for my intentions. I just...kind of wish I knew what exactly I am you know?"

>>40834375
Oh thank god he had the right room. Woulda been reeeeally awkward if he'd gotten it wrong. Still, in ya go.

Driftwood walks in, and takes in the likely very cheap hospital room, from the likely cracks in the walls to the little bathroom and the one chair that they so liked to put in these rooms.
"Jeez, mon, you look fuuuuukked up."
His attention slowly turns back to Poet in the room's bed.
"Arrested too. I heard da news from Amos. Real bummer, mon. But I got some good news for ya, mon!"
A friendly, amiable smile crosses Driftwood's face, and he has to visibly resist shouting, hardly able to contain the excitement.

>>40834380
Then Amos still alive, too, and by Drift's generally jolly demeanor, it didn't take a genius to see that Salsa was still up and about as well. Times like this made him feel all the more fragile than he already did, of course, but he was quick to stifle the frown that would have shown up on his features otherwise. As per the custom, Poet's gaze proceeded to scan Drift's person quite thoroughly, his regard for modesty long since eroded in his life.

"I have seen better days, yes. But perhaps this news will alleviate my own discomfort somewhat. One can only hope - go on, go on, then," he urged the orange unicorn, waving a hoof lazily, and letting it fall upon his forehead, ponderous.

>>40834383
"You got paid, mon!"

Driftwood reaches into a pocket of his coat and pulls out a 1k chit, and tosses it to Poet with a flourish, still grinning like an idiot before grabbing the chair and taking a seat.

"We ALL got paid, mon. Amos says we're out of debt, Cookie got paid, and we made a little paper on the side, yeah mon? That there's your share."

Driftwood's grin remains there, testing Poet's reaction, waiting to see how he'd take the news at the... Reeelatively small payout.

>>40834388
His eyebrow quirked in his typical inquisitive fashion as the chit landed firmly in his lap, prompting him to momentarily take his eyes off of Drift to examine it momentarily. Contemplation entered his expression as it was wont to do, and he began to slowly turn the chit over in his hooves, more out of a need to busy his hooves than to verify the money's validity. Poet's expression then was hardly aggressive, nor even terribly bothered - in all truth, the slight frown he wore as he lay there in bed, broken and ever so slightly delirious, was no less passive than the one he tended to wear outside of all but the most extreme of circumstances.

He was rather guarded in that regard, one supposed. His vocal reaction was no more colored with emotion than his expression nor body language, suggesting he was either very dismissive of this payment, or he was very good at hiding some ultimate outrage. Knowing Poet...Well, one could probably guess.

"Interesting. I had not expected to be paid in the slightest. My thanks to you, and to Amos, then. I am sure this will cover, at least, my meals for a time." Then he was silent. Poet was possessed of a tendency to launch into over-large, immensely articulated speeches and quotations at the slightest provocation, but so too was he capable of a perfect silence when he found no reason to speak further. It was, then, that he presented Driftwood with only the sight of himself, alone in this bed, turning his small payment over in his hooves, his gaze focused and unerring.

It was really rather awkward.

>>40834397
"..."
Driftwood just watches Poet's reaction. Didn't really seem to be much of... Well, any change. Though, in truth, it was a very small amount of money, and also it came down to him whether or not he tells Poet his share was cut in half. Though, then again, from what little he knew of Poet, he was very... Perceptive. Chances are he already figured things out, or, was well through the process of calculating what would be a reasonable share for him.
"I insisted you get a cut, mon. I've been in da hospital before, mon, and it ain't fun. You deserved something."

And then a very awkward silence descends over the two. Driftwood scratches irritatedly at his foreleg, following it with running one through his mane, recently washed for the first time in a while. He coughs.

"So... You uh... You okay, mon?"

>>40834596
"That is quite well appreciated, Driftwood," Poet replied quietly after a short pause, nodding slowly. "Yes," he went on, finally setting aside the chit as his gaze swiveled, and rested upon Driftwood's expression for a brief instant. What he found there seemed to perplex him slightly, but of course, his response was just the same, his forelegs forming a small arch, evidently a sort of quirk he had when he was thinking of what to say. Or perhaps just thinking in general. Poet's observations were only the mere basics, like attempting to discern the whereabouts and directions of a tree's roots by gazing at the branches. They did not truthfully know each other - these were only parlor tricks...

...Still. Driftwood did not seem so terrible a pony to attempt to get along with.

"I have been better, thank you."

"...Would you care to keep me company? It is so dreadfully lonely in this decrepit old place. I almost preferred prison. The food was at least edible, there."

>>40834612
"Course, mon. We're a team. And teammates gotta look out for eachudda, right mon?"

Driftwood starts a bit when Poet's gaze settles on him, and he moves one of his hooves to and from his mouth a few times, and starts patting the pocket where he usually keeps his smokables, even though there's nothing there now.

"I figgered as much, mon. Hospitals are never any fun."

Of course, he'd already taken a look around the place. And so...

"Eh, why not mon. I don't got anywhere to be."

>>40834376
Once upon a time, he might have smiled derisively at the idea of some definite, possibly supernatural force causing such a string of nearly fatal bad luck. With all he'd seen, however, he had to consider the matter with the utmost seriousness.

Despite his lack of expressiveness, his laser-focus never wavered. He nodded slowly, only now realizing just how odd it was that Frost was so willingly sharing this with him. His eyes were already as wide as could be, but a few more signs cropped up. He kept his voice level all the same, retaining the odd, distant tone that was his new default.

"I understand," he said at last, though it was likely he couldn't truly understand in anything other than an academic sense. "Can't say I don't wanna know that myself."

"Somehow, I think... you, and what you are is somehow wrapped up in... all this," Farasi waved a hoof in a vague, unspecific gesticulation at, presumably, their general situation. "Just a feelin'. It all seems... connected."

He shook his head briskly, dismissing the thought the way he'd dismiss an errant fly.

"Personally -- and, no offense here -- I hope you're not immortal. That's... There's weird shit out there. But a pony that couldn't die? That'd be somethin' else..."

>>40833740
You find yourself in the presence of others, shortly into your walk: for as you chance a glance past the innermost walls of Last Chance and onto the trench-scape beyond, you spy two figures perched atop the mounds; and from this distance, you can hear the ominous and rhythmic crunch that sounds between them.

The gravel of the Lowest City shifts softly under High Noon's hooves, as he circles Carnage as the hyena circles its meal. His every step has a dark and purposeful bent: there is a heaviness to his hooves and a firmness in his steps quite unlike the dottering old man he was a year ago. For the first time in living memory, his mechanical leg does not shriek with every step; instead of an old an rusting augmetic, his movements are punctuated with the soft clink of ammo belts against bare flesh. In this heating time and twisted place, the Old Man has become himself again. In this way, for the first time since he left the pit, he is worthy of his daughter's legacy.

His ears are pinned, his teeth gritted, his tail twitching. For reasons known only to them, High Noon and Carnage stand, eyes locked and hackles raised, as they square off. He scans her with trained eyes, searching her for any sign of weakness--a trembling knee, a twitching brow, an aimed ear. Then, all at once, with a minute grunt, he dives towards her, teeth snapping as he goes for her knees--only to pull aside a moment later with a short dart to the side, in anticipation of some blow from above.


KRIEG
<"He smells...different.">

Even after all these years, Sergeant Herzhog is a worrisome figure to behold. He's been taking good care of himself--but then again, so have you. He has aged visibly, of course, and not for the better: his crown is falling out in clumps at a time, to expose the mottled black skin beneath it; and it pains you to look at his fractured wing, and the bio-webbing that was crudely placed to keep its shape. But these do not take away from the sharpness of his claws or the broadness of his shoulders--and they surely do not take away from his cold and calloused voice, which commands the native tongue as cruelly as he commanded you.

"He is...sir."

Beside you, Klaus swallows nervously. In this dwarf-tent, in this small encampment by the Trottalot trail--a camp no larger than what the chick scouts would use--it is easy to forget that you are in the company of friends. The shadows hang over everything here, save the fire-pit in the center of it all: in the darkness of the night you can't tell Gary from Gruntilda, though they seemed to have no problem recognizing you...

>>40834764
Krieg takes a drag from her cigarette, exhaling and letting the smoke waft above her head. "I am different on the outside, yes. But inside, I'm the same Krieg from back in the war." She smirks, remembering those days. "How've you been holding up all these years?"

>>40834775
<"Acceptably.">

Sergeant Herzhog turns to face you, and you rather wish he hadn't. You didn't know what happened to him since the war, but it wasn't pleasant: whatever he's been up to, it left him with a millimeter-deep gash across his beak, that is a disquieting shade of moldering green. Aside from this, though, he seems to have avoided too many prominent injuries--but probably not by choice. Herzhog never was a man to savor the good life...

<"I wanted you to have the honors, as repayment for that time with the frag.">

Without skipping a beat, he withdraws a mayfly pistol from beneath his nest, and tosses it to you.

<"Klaus sold the Saddles our troop movement reports. Shoot him.">

>>40834781
Krieg catches the pistol and looks at it for a minute before shaking her head. "No. What's done is done, and killing him won't change it. I refuse to take the life of a friend."

>>40834792
<"Then you've gotten soft. Shame on you.">

Beside you, Klaus shrugs and sits on his haunches, as he idly inspects his nails. To the surprise of no-one, he is unbothered by the mayfly--not because it's a shitty gun, but because it is rather transparently loaded with blank ammunition. He clucks his tongue and shakes his head, evidently the slightest bit disappointed; but his reaction is measured, of course, in comparison to Herzhog's. With a snort, the sergeant turns his back on you--not to occupy himself with something else, but to spare himself the indignity of meeting you eye-to-eye. The sergeant was always a staunch Tqrawnist, who had little patience for the sentimentality of the young and old alike. However measured and clever you may have been in your appraisal of the situation, the fact remains: you failed to demonstrate the loyalty he prized so dearly.

<"Yet they say you've got fresh blood on your beak.">

>>40834612
>>40834711
As the two ponies continued to talk, another pony would be walking down the hall, making his steps so that they could barely be heard even as he walked by the opened doors of a few of the other patients. The nurses gave him a questionable look as it wasn't very common for anyone to wear a helmet of any sorts inside the building. The stallion wouldn't even give them any notice as he walked straight by them, seemingly reading through some papers on a clipboard that he was holding. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, but nothing coming out of his mouth could be understood. There was no signal that he was coming straight for the room the two were in until he opened the door, with an annoying squeak that came as quickly as it went with how the stallion basically barged right in.

"Four broken ribs, three broken legs, a fractured skull... and a sprained ankle..."

He blinked, but that wasn't even relevant seeing as he was wearing a helmet. Amos would shrug this off before tossing the clipboard onto a small table near the door he came in from.

"Must be unfortunate for whoever that guy was," he said, approaching the others and taking his helmet off. "So how are you feeling? I assume you'd rather not talk about the details on what actually happened to you."

He glanced to Driftwood, only able to assume that he was already talking about what happened on their last job. Giving a small nod, he turned back to Poet.

"I'm very busy with finding out what we need to do next to ensure we all get the equipment we need to finally move up in this industry. Driftwood has your pay. Usually when we work a job like this, an operator who doesn't show up doesn't get any of the spoils, but the only reason we made just a bit more than what we would have ended up with was because your boyfriend seems to be willing to pull favors for us just because of some interest he has in you. You indirectly made your mark on this job, so you got your cut, but I had to cut it in half since, again, you weren't able to show up. At least now you'll be able to leave the hospital knowing that all the money we make from now on is all ours and the company's, and you'll also have a place to stay at where you don't have to worry about getting kicked out anytime I know of."

After he was done speaking, the edge of his mouth seemed to at least attempt to make a smile, but it never came to be, knowing that Poet may still have some low feelings towards him after the gas station heist that didn't run as smoothly as hoped. He could only hope now that Poet still had some formal approach towards what they were doing to keep the workers together.

Last edited at Sat, Mar 28th, 2015 00:07

>>40834127
Yea some guy with a bounty on him right?
>she would look at his neato tail replacement
When'd you get that anyways?

>>40834807
Swiftwing sat up a bit and bashfully rubbed at his neck. "Well, just the other night actually. That was a pretty intense mission. We teamed up with another group of operators to fight down the reinforcements he had with him, then had to face up against Lonestar and a pretty sizeable army they brought with them, including Apex units which are just insanely strong and an attack helicopter." He elaborated, a bit of excitement in his voice as he relived the adrenaline filled evening in his mind.

>>40834798
She sets the gun down and takes another drag. "I've made a name for myself on the streets here. My crew relies on my talents in killing."

>>40834817
Oh that sounds like one hell of a party you guys went to, shame I wasn't around I coulda provided some support.
>she would sit for a moment and think quietly before speaking up again
Oh yeah when's the next mission? I'm back so I'd like to get into it again with you guys

>>40834764
Umi's ears perked, eyes focusing on the two figures. A fight? Well, he had no part in it. But it was always entertaining to see a good fight. He changed his course, making his way through the trench-scape, and heading towards the figures fighting atop the small hill. From the sounds of it, the fight was something to see. However, as he saw the participants, he slowed his trot, one eyebrow quirking. The Old Man and Carnage?

He made his way up the small mound, taking a space on the edge of it's crown, so as not to interfere with the two's spar. Was it even a spar? He seemed almost more in the vein of a brawl, then a spar. He considered the two going at it, and that's when it hit him. The Old Man didn't seem, well, old anymore. His leg wasn't emitting sounds that pleaded for oil, and his movements were purposeful and precise. He didn't seem to be the Old, slightly off, Stallion that had worked to mentor them in some way. For some reason, that unsettled Umi. A sense of, almost, dread formed a hot ball in his gut. Things were getting real, and they didn't have long before it reached them.

Umi watches them, head canted to the side, slightly. Their fur was bristling, teeth gritting, tails swishing. This wasn't the mannerisms of a fight. He lifted a hoof, slightly, before settling it back down. Whatever it was, it was between them, and Umi would simply watch. He scanned them both, trying to note their own little tells and clues. He briefly thought of the fight in front of him, and then to those he had taken part in, before he left his home. It was an odd kind of opposite. A raised hill, and freedom, against a ten foot deep pit, and a length of rope connecting one pony's neck to another's. He believed this type of fight was much more enjoyable.

>>40834820
<"And leadership, I hope. A gun has no place making judgement calls, Krieg. Have you forgotten what it was like in the trenches?">

Herzhog is not a man who could be described as kind, by any definition. But if you are the sort of person to read sentiment into seemingly cruel and crass actions--which you are, given your continued friendship with Lunacy--you'd hazard a guess that his evident disgust with you stems from worry more than anything else. Conflicting calls are a fine way to get yourself killed, after all...

>>40834834
"I let another take over the leadership, though I never hesitate to tell him when one of his plans is likely to get us killed. He's a fine leader though, would've done good in the war."

>>40834825
"For sure, for sure." He replied with a still plastered and eager grin. "Support would have been nice at the time, we could also use a dedicated doctor, but support itself." he shrugged it off, his grin fading into a more tame, but still warm smile at the gryphon. "But you are here now and I'm glad to have you back." He added. "And I'm sure the rest could be too, though I'm not entirely sure what we have on deck for our next mission, I think we still gotta lay low for a bit longer."

>>40834905
Ah yeah I guess it makes sense to not want to go rushing on another mission after your heads are wanted on a silver platter.
>Gren would ruffle her head before fixing it
I hope I didn't catch anything while visiting my folks damn heads been itchin' since I left.

>>40834751
Frost had a love for dramatics and it was now that she saw an opportunity to indulge it. She grinned a sly, reptilian grin, prepping the gun to fire with an audible click.

"I am not a pony though."

In a sea of uncertainty, this was the one thing she was absolutely certain of, and this confidence spilled into her speech. It was the one little shred of knowledge she had. However general it was and how little it actually told her, it was clear that this was something she cherished. Or at the very least was pretty sure of, and that counted for a great deal in this situation.

"Not sure though if being unable to die is supposed to be a blessing or some kind of torture. It very well could be both but that is beside the point. You are right. What I am has to play a part in this. There is a connection here. That is why I w...need to know what I am. We need to know what we are dealing with here..."

A sigh came forth. Dejected and a little frustrated. She tore her gaze away for a moment to fiddle around with her gun some more. "We are not entirely blind here. I have a rough idea of who is...responsible for me and I know a location. All I need now is time, and that we do actually have now."

>>40834799
"You realize, mon, that wearing a helmet indoors is a faux pas."

Driftwood doesn't turn to face him right away, keeping an eye on Poet before turning, sparing a half-smile for the leader of their ragtag little group.

"Already gave it to him, mon. First ting we talkkabout, ain't that right poet, me bredda?"

Driftwood tries to make a face to warn Amos to not tell Poet about the pay cut, but it either doesn't register or he's too slow on the draw. Probably a combination of both, but once the news is out, he grimaces, grunting, face contorting a bit before resuming its normal proportions as he turns back to Poet, waiting to hear his response to all this. After all, for the limited amount of time they'd known each other, Poet really seemed to be the plan guy out of the four of them. Surely, if anybody knew just what they should do next, it'd be him.

>>40834711
>>40834799
>>40835041
Data collection was no special task - everyone in the world was capable of seeing and hearing every important piece of information around them, and anyone in the world would have found it trivial to see and hear the proceedings before them in Poet's position, even accounting for the painkillers and heavy duty medication raging through his system. No, it was data processing that Poet found his niche in, and here it was that most would have found themselves reeling from the sudden influx of information to process and observe, the sight of Amos stepping in, wearing a helmet, his every microexpression as he spoke, the information that he brought with him, that of his payment, which he already knew of, and that of the reasoning, which he had previously only been able to guess at. Then came Driftwood's reactions, and quick self assurance that Poet was paying attention. Of course, he was.

He took things slowly, subtly withdrawing his posture of relaxation once Amos entered, addressing Driftwood first, but at the same time letting his mind wander, and piece together his response to Amos, thinking ahead, but otherwise taking things one step at a time, so as not to further confuse himself, nor his new associates.

"Quite right, Driftwood. The credit chit is presently resting upon my nightstand," he pointed out, his speech rapid and unrelentingly enunciated, to the point where it would be no large leap of logic to compare his speech patterns to the vocalizations of the average machine gun. Like a machine gun, then, he took only a short breath, to adjust his fire, so to speak, instead now aiming his words in Amos' direction, despite his evident refusal to make eye contact with either of them, his expression more or less blank as he riddled out his verbal response. His tendency to ramble, if not already established, would soon be so.

"In order, I sustained a very long and quite embarrassing fall, but there was nothing so special about it save the inconceivable luck I had to fall directly upon a passing police vehicle that bears the worth of words. Fragility notwithstanding, I have every intention of returning to my position in your employ at earliest convenience, slated for the thirty-first."

Another breath, reload, lock, adjust.

"My gratitude knows no bounds, though knowing the payment was made in necessity, and evidently so begrudgingly, does you few favors. Nonetheless, this is only semantics, and bears nothing in the way of relevance," he continued, calling into consideration Amos' nervous expression, snatched into the cages of his mind in a glance before his gaze had fallen elsewhere, "Your fears are unfounded, then, I think."

Breathe deep, calm, control, discipline. He'd had this mental process prepared in the case he was ever called in to perform surgery someday, and much like surgery, conversations of importance, he believed, were not so variable as to lie in the hands of fate, but in the mortal hoof of skill, precision, and a watchful eye. This was the science of his tradition, so to speak.

>>40835041
>>40835256
"Yes, I am very aware. But as you very well know, I just got off the night job, and I didn't really feel like walking all the way back just to put it up. And as for my passage into this shit hole of a hospital: I invited myself in after I figured out where Poet was."

Amos's expression was of annoyance and a little bit of exhaustion. It wasn't directed at anyone, but it was clear that his mood was ever fading as he went on feeling a little stressed.

"Oh yes, and I'm glad to hear that you've already gave him his money. He earned every cred."

With that being said, he turned back to Poet, keeping this similar expression he had when facing him.

Amos stepped closer, walking till he was basically standing right at the end of his bed. He seemed full of thoughts, both on Poet's words and other outside factors. It became pretty clear to him that speaking for the other stallion seemed a little bit of a challenge. Even so, he was still letting out a mouth full at a time.

"I never did any of this for favors, I'm afraid, Poet. The well-being of those who work for me are just as important as keeping a business up and running. And looking at us all now, I'd say the business is growing with our lively hood."

He looked out the window for a moment or two before going on, his thoughts interrupting him, as a lot of what he thought about was about what happened last job. It seemed to him as if it was a problem, but the questions of did and didn't happen still got under his skin.

"My fears are not relevant I'm afraid. They are part of my past. I, however, do not like any bad standings between us. It makes future planning seem problematic."

He turned his head back to Poet, raising an eyebrow.

"And I sure hope you'll make a full recovery, seeing as I still plan to see what skills you could really offer me."

>>40835772
"Let us not stand on ceremony, Amos," he replied, momentarily closing his eyes and reclining in his bed, taking a very deep breath. If he'd not returned to the flat, he was likely still armed, and Poet, with his room located on a rather high floor, was in no mood to make a hasty escape. His patience was at odds with his caution, forcing him to ponder his words more carefully when speaking what he did next.

"I would also prefer this remain an amicable relationship, ours, but so too would I prefer to remain alive and wealthy. There is no cause for us to hold our tongues, you do not seem a man who would be so dishonorable as to kill me for speaking out of turn, most assuredly not in my own hospital bed. I, too, have such a sense of discretion, and therefore advise you make well known your position and myriad thoughts on the situation, that I may do the same. We may work from there."

"In addendum, I will say I did not entirely expect you all to make it back in one piece. Consider me pleasantly surprised, and willing to make concessions...here and there."

>>40834949
Swiftwing continued to watch her, a smile still on his face as he had his forhooves rested on the counter, head turned to her. "Yeah... honestly ever since breaking out, we really haven't had any time to relax or be comfortable, and this Pit down here is the closest chance we've had to relaxing. It's a hell of a lot better than the prison, but its still just.. a little uncomfortable I'm sure you can tell."

He gave an only slightly concerned tilt of the head as she scratched hers. "What did you do while you were home anyways? Is your brother all good?" he asked curiously

>>40835993
Yea everyone's all good, I don't really like discussing family stuff too much. Let's just say he has something that you don't wanna get and my parents had to go out of town to go meet someone for a very important chance to help him. I have no idea why it took them so long, something in my gut just tells me they needed a break.
>she would sigh and rest her head on the counter
I feel sorry for him the kid has to go through a lot, ya know.

>>40834985
Click. Farasi's eyes flew towards the gun again, and he flinched despite himself. Once again, he was certain, despite how illogical it would have been, that Frost was sick of his prattling and was about to murder him. He was proven wrong again. For the moment. His hackles raised nervously and his ears twitched spastically, even as Frost's rather impassioned speech momentarily distracted him from the live weapon.

"... You got a lead?" He asked, blinking in open surprise. "I, uh... Huh. That's-- that's somethin', alright."

"So, if we got time for it now, we gonna be lookin' into that?" The thought seemed to simultaneously excite and disturb him; though that might have been his natural skittishness peeking through. "I mean, no rush, 'cause we got a good thing goin' here, but... Well. It's an awful curious business."

>>40836015
"I'll uh, take your word for it, not gunna press you on it." He replied. Though it wasn't shown across his face, he at least in his mind, raised an eyebrow at the line of having been through a lot... She had just heard what he had to say, right? "I'm sure he has...." He responded a bit, looking down sympathetically at the same time, not tryign to come across rude at all.

>>40836039
>gren would playfully punch his arm
Hey Blue don't go all sentimental on me. So any other stories of things I missed while I was gone?

>>40836067
Swiftwing simply offered a smirk in return. "Don't you worry, I'm as sturdy as I am strong. No uh, sentiments from me!" He replied a bit carelessly, instantly thinking he would've phrased that another way. He rubbed as his neck and cleared his throat. "Oh! I know. Igneus and Agatium got married a week after we broke out. Went to a church, the whole team and some dragons went, but apparently a hyena sold out Agatium because his uncle didn't want him getting married, and when he found out he paid another team of operators 400,000 credits to kidnap Agatium. Was pretty rough without our equiptment, well for most of the others, my equiptment is built into my hooves, but we pulled it off well." he grinned.

>>40836127
I don't think I really remember too much about who those people are, but you're telling me you had a kidnapping on a wedding day? That's a pretty low blow even for criminals isn't there some kinda code.
>Gren would prop her head up on her arm as it rested on the counter

>>40836239
"Well it was in the means of protection and care in some scale. His uncle didn't feel Igneus wasn't a safe crowd for him to be around." HE shrugged. "But of course they failed. As if we'd let them get away with it." He flashed forth a grin back at her. "Though we did learn another thing.. there's starting to be more equiptment that pops up around... like thermal vision that detects us even if we're dreamcoated, I got one of those helmets myself, but they're just advancing and we're managing along."

>>40836400
It's like a body trying to fight an infection then. The infection may be strong, but the antibodies too grow strong and eventually they'll overwhelm, but I'm sure as long as we stay together we'll beat any odds

>>40836024

Her hooves ached to shoot something at this point. Of course it was not Farasi but the desire was there all the same. A chance to try out her new weapon and to tempt fate once more. Turning it around, testing its weight, she focused in on him once again.

"First I want to take some time to put ourselves in a better spot. We have the chance to expand our holdings, personal equipment...you know. Business. We also have the whole wanted terrorist thing some of our team members have to deal with. I want to get started on that, at least, before we look into it."

Another sigh and a twitch of her legs. At this point she would practically beg for a rat or something. The thought came about to, maybe, help Farasi kill whomever scavenged the mech, if they had scavenged at all. Squashed with a shake of her head. That would be better as a team building exercise.

"It would require a little bit of travel. Cherneighboyl in particular and that is going to be hard for some."

>>40836487
"That's the kind of optimism I'm a fan of." Swifting replied with a renotable grin that spread his lips. "I'm really glad to have someone else with that bit of optimism on the team back again, it's hard to seemingly be the only fun and cheery one at times." He chuckled a sligth bit. "I mean, some of them are nice, but then some of them are Carnage and some of them aren't very social or well adept with other ponies." he shrugged

>>40836494
Farasi had to admit that she had a point; they couldn't just go gallivanting off in search of mystery, like they were cartoon detectives. There was money to be made, the whole reason he was here. He nodded shortly in agreement, pursing his lips in a faint, contemplative frown. The mention of where they were going made his eyebrow quirk curiously; he had heard the name before, and nothing good could come of it.

"Cherneighboyl...? That, uh... that shouldn't surprise me, but... Yeah, I can see how that'd be... difficult."

He nodded again. He finally felt comfortable enough to drag his eyes away from Frost again, looking out into the wastes.

"Well, if you don't think there's no rush... Fine by me. The mech down here... She's the first. There'll be more after her, if I have my way."

>>40834827
>>40834764
>It had been so long since the last time Carnage had enjoyed a proper conversation with anyone, such a long time since anyone could actually understand her language and talk back to her. So long that the entire process felt absolutely divine to the young mare. When she was little, Carnage always had trouble communicating with others to a certain degree, like something couldn't or wouldn't click in verbal conversation like it did for everyone else and somehow left her feeling isolated and unsatisfied like everyone was speaking her third or second tongue or third tongue. That is to say, a language she knew well enough to hold a conversation with someone but not well enough for her to communicate all the nuances and emotions she felt to anyone but herself. Those feelings of frustration born of an isolation she couldn't understand mounted until one day she up and attacked the Old Man in a fit of raw emotion that left her punching him over and over again in a desperate attempt to communicate just how lonely she really felt living in this rancid pit of despair with only the ghost of a mother to show her the way forward. Once she was done and was left panting and shaking from the exertion, little Carnage had expected the Old Man to abandon her, to leave her where she was an never find her again out of fear for her unprovoked assault but to her greatest surprise he simply grunted a sort of half-hearted laugh before kicking her in the gut with a sort of melancholic grace that communicated to her a very simple message with a clarity she had never experienced before.

"I understand... you were never alone to begin with."

>Needless to say that what followed was a tear-jerking moment in which a young mare began beating the ever loving crap out of her father with tears of joy pouring down her face. Later on the Old Man call this particular language as "The Dance" and he endeavored to teach it to those like around Carnage who could learn it. Flip Back had been one of these few people she could talk to but now she was gone and there was no way for her to find her again. It was with these thoughts in mind that Carnage flared her wings and dove over the older pony and stoke downward with her hoof only to find that her partner had feinted away and was now to counter her blow with a new charge that he would follow through this time. But what he did he did too slowly, for as soon as Carnage landed she spun on her hind-leg and kicked the Old Man in the flank with a vicious strike full of frustration and ill-feelings for the way things had played out.

How the hell am I supposed to get revenge when the PMC's gone bankrupt?!

What CEO or doctor can I shoot when they're working a new job in some other country under a new alias?!

Worse yet, despite the fact that I've gone and become one of Equestria's most wanted terrorists, the damn killers on my list still haven't show any sign that they'd ever come after me to finish their job like they were supposed to!

>>40835864
Hearing his response, he only raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms before giving Poet a small nod.

"Very well. If that's what you wish, then so be it."

He only moved on from the topic, almost removing the thought and memory of it from his head afterwards. Either that or he was about to pick something else to change his entire drive on the conversation with him. His eyes narrowed at Poet now, not breaking contact for even a second until he once again decides to speak.

"The only reason I would ever murder you for is if I found out you were a weakling to me all along- holding words on me being an example. That is my honor," he let out in a lower tone before calming his posture a bit. "You have a talent for spotting what the normal pony would shrug off and walk past. I could only assume that you'd have an idea based off what you've seen- and..."

He looked to Driftwood, as if he couldn't even fathom what was just said.

"... we're just throwing packets of snow in the park. A twelve year old could do that- and they do it more than what most ponies could sleep on if they knew about. What honestly drove you to think that?" he asked before taking a deep breath, turning it into a sigh. "You're right about one thing. Communication is key. We need to get into the habit of making everything we do known... which could get a little difficult at times. Especially if we get into some of the more intense operations."

>>40836668
>>40834764
Umi watched on, silently, eyes taking in, but reluctant to give anything back. Almost stony faced, he began to make heads and hooves out of what he was seeing. It was almost like communication. Was this how Carnage preferred to have her conversations? It was like...what was it called? Interpretive dance? He felt he could enjoy this version much more. Seems like that book was useless, again. Why did he bother going to that library? Lying computers, useless books...what a silly place. He shook his head, gaze and attention refocusing on the pair before him. However, as he watched, a small part of his mind looked back on his time, before he had left. He had never fought a pony, for the sake of talking with them.

Fights back home had been, well, rooted in violence, not in the need to communicate. Hell, if it wasn't to solve a conflict, it was for the sake of sport. The pegasus could remember summer's past. A solid week devoted to war, and all the pain and glory it promised. He had partaken in all the games and mocks. Jousting; melees; feats of speed, strength, and cunning. And the pit fights. He closed his eyes, for a moment, as he remembered his first. They say you never forgot your first. Umi was lucky to remember anything from it, and lucky, even, to live through it. How long ago was it now? Eight summers, at least.

He was a fool. So desperate to be out of the shadow his cousin cast, that he had challenged that very stallion to a pit fight. It wasn't until he was tethered by three feet of coarse rope to Unagi's neck, that he had realized how much of a fool he had been. He was a runt, Unagi was a giant in both stature and skill. Unarmed. Unarmed, the 'Electric Eel' had beaten him bloody, senseless, and unconscious. He had been dragged from the pit, and dumped back in his spartan hut, for a healer to look at. That was when a small flame began to burn within him. Hatred.

The stallion shook his head, once more, driving the memories back. But what if. What if he had fought with the intent to convey his hatred, his envy? His ears perked, as realization started to really settle in. The intervention. Her attacking him. Had she meant to fight with him? Were they suppose to just brawl in the middle of the restaurant? Seeing this, and letting the pieces fall into place, he started to wondering what would have happened, had he just swung back at her. Damn it, this was the kind of conversation he could enjoy. He went back to watching the fight, observing each contender closely. This was far more entertaining, compared to sitting in the bar, and waiting for the next job they got.

>>40836659

Frost found some merciful distraction from the identity crisis bubbling beneath the surface. Raising her brow as she often does in the face of intriguing, she tilted her head forward and spoke in a marginally lighter tone than what either might be used to.

"So...having your way means an army of murderous kill mechs?"

>>40837296
Actually saying it out loud made him stop and consider the matter. It didn't take long for him to nod shortly, quickly coming to a decision. He even grinned at her, the teeth of his good side proudly displayed alongside a few poking through the ruins of his left face.

"Yes. Yes, that is what I want," he said airily, sighing like he'd just gotten a great weight off his shoulders. "It's a... dangerous world we're livin' in. Why shouldn't I have somethin' to... give me a bit of an edge when things get hot?"

>>40836740
Maintaining eye contact with the likes of Poet was a project in its own right. When his gaze was not wandering the room, flitting about in a seemingly random and pointless fashion, his eyes would close, as though he were deep in some private thought - though, then, perhaps Poet was the sort who was always thinking in such an involved fashion. "A twelve year old," he replied, his expression flat as he finally deigned to meet eyes with Amos as he finished his spiel, "Could also feasibly operate a cell phone. But I will also acknowledge quite readily that, although I am quite well practiced in linguistics, I've but a passing knowledge of the universal language of violence. You, however, are fluent." His tone remained steady, and his words continued to follow each other in immensely rapid succession - he might have made for a skilled auctioneer in another context.

"But perhaps I misunderstand your last. You are...asking me for ideas on how to move this business venture of yours forwards? Because I am most certainly capable of doing so in a way I can hardly think you would be any less than absolutely pleased with. But if that is indeed the case, and by all means, stop me if it is not, then there will most certainly need to be some adjustment, preparations made, plans drawn out, budgets balanced...But I would handle all that, were you to ask me to."

"I have every intention of assisting you, Amos. It would be a mutual benefit, after all."

>>40836608
And despite all of the differences you've all seemed to come this far together, who's really gonna be able to stop you guys from going any further.
>chuckles a bit as she stretches
I don't think I've ever seen such a rag tag group get in so deep and still manage to keep their heads above the water.

>>40837409

"That sounds very conspicuous"

her reply was simple enough, but it was not as dismissive as one might be used to. In fact she grew momentarily distant, like she was tumbling the idea through her head. It was not an unpleasant thought, at the very least. Or maybe he could see as much in her mildly bemused expression.

"But it has its appeal. Nobody is going to mess with you with an army of giant kill bots. Unless they are hackers but...that is what we have you for, right?"

>>40837480
Amos blinked, hearing him bring the cell phone incident back up. He almost forgot now that children in Equestria don't go outside anymore, not just because of some of the violent streets in town, but also because they can just talk to their friends on their phones, making physical contact almost obsolete. ...strange world.

"Hmmm, I guess I see where you're coming from. I mean, you were the one who forgot to not only figure out where a simple jerry can was, but also had our mech worker goof around the soda machine."

He grinned at Poet, chuckling a little. Amos had an eye that was built in a way that could challenge even Poet's perceptive nature. Although he couldn't work a cell phone in a dire moment of need, he could also piece together what the stallion who lead his associates into the store do while he was busy performing his own piece of the puzzle that was his plan.

"Alright, but seriously speaking now, I would like us to actually work together. Cut out all the bullcrap. We just need money to get ourselves better equipment and provide funds to the business itself."

After saying this, he pulled out his phone, looking at a note he made. What a pleb.

"In order to get a start on our business's rise into the actuality of what the people see anything legit as being, we will need to raise at least 20K. If we can't make this on our first mission, then so be it. We need gear. But after we all have a good gun or gadget in our hooves, there can be no exceptions to this business's needs. I'm also not getting another loan from the bank, seeing as I only did that to do what any poor chum wanting to get a start would do."

Amos put his phone away before looking back to Poet.

"I have some ideas of my own, but I'm wanting someone with a good outlook to find the missing opportunity and guide this business back to it. Right now we need to make adjustments, and preparations. You think you can do that?"

>>40837688
"Oh yeah, it'd be super conspicuous," he nodded in agreement. His lip curled unpleasantly, but besides that he didn't seem too concerned about it. Rolling back and forth on the rears of his hooves, he lolled his head back and forth thoughtfully. "I mean, I guess I could, like, rent a warehouse, or an underground garage, and ferry them around in trucks, but-- yeah. Not exactly subtle."

Farasi shook his head roughly; a fresh, almost predatory smile wound across his good side and split his bad one apart. He looked a bit like a jackal spying a bit of carrion.

"But, see-- you get it. Sometimes... sometimes you need a little excessive force. And ain't nobody taking my droids. Any other hacker'd have to pry 'em from my cold, dead hooves."

>>40837730
It would do no good, he knew with a frustrated, low sigh, to attempt to justify nor defend himself from the initial retorts. He felt it strangely beneath him. It was a business transaction, not a cock measuring contest. So he was quick to follow that hook to return the nature of the conversation once more to business related matters.

"With your...blessing," he began more slowly, once more letting his eyes slide shut and his posture relax, "And the necessary information to make the proper decisions and allocations of resource, mostly how much money we are presently working with, as well as present equipment...I think I can present a plan to you as quick as you please."

"Still," he continued, his expression briefly showing further, slightly deeper annoyance, "Before I do so, I would prefer it be made known well enough who is drawing these plans and preparations out. It is a venture of sacrifice on my own part, moreso than you may think. The least I may ask is a certain amount of recognition."

"Truly...that is all I want in return."

>>40837752
"Of course," he said with a grin. "Everyone here gets exactly what they deserve. Recognition? Salsa is recognized for his silver tongue and his exceptionally well performance during our gas heist. And Driftwood is recognized for his abilities with magic, mechanical prowess, and his peculiar connections at the Burning Bush. And then there's you."

Still grinning he only paused for a moments notice to let everything he's said so far sink in.

"Vigilant, and your own way with words. You even found points of success in what have turned one job into several. The only thing is that you seem a little... paranoid with me. Like something about me is holding you back. Do you really think I'm so low as to take what's rightfully your's? Do you think I mark each and every breathe you take with a heinous glare? This is a business. What brings us together is our own personal wants, and what should keep us together is an understanding on what we want. If you make a plan for me, all the fucking credit in it's entirety goes to you."

As Amos went on, he too seemed a bit annoyed. Despite this, however, Poet seemed to want some glory from his hard earned skills. If that was all that he wanted on top of the wealth that was getting so much closer and closer to them, then so be it.

>>40837776
At this, he couldn't help but chuckle, and though most of what he'd said was true enough, it did indeed seem to be in sincere good humor. "Paranoid. Yes, that's a good word for it. Part of the job, you know. And part of what makes me so...efficient, at picking out certain weaknesses and opportunities. I make it a point to see the negative. As an impersonal example, your sense of ambition and self control are at odds with each other. That much...I can help with."

"We need not necessarily be so friendly with each other, though I will admit, that is my preference, yet I see fit to address your earlier question. What can I offer you? Well, I may offer you under no uncertain terms a successful business venture. Here is my caveat: Allow me full operational control of our group. This includes finances, shelter, supply, standards of living and the procurement of the necessities of the business. I will, then, gladly allow you full operational control of your own business, that of the, er, sporting goods shop, and if you should ever find yourselves in such a position of power you no longer feel the need to push forward in your ventures, then I...er, shall we say, 'allow' you the caveat that I may be asked to leave at any time you may choose."

"I mean verbally, of course. Not with horrific bodily trauma."

>>40833015
As the dragon explains his predicament and his family history, Doc stares at her martini, almost with a glare. She has a critical look on her face; it's clear she's thinking, trying to put dots together and draw conclusions. "That's... That's very interesting. I wonder, are the effects of sparking genetic at all, or is it unique and unpredictable?"

It's about now Doc piques her own interest with her thoughts. Her speech grows more rapid over time, and it's clear this one-sided conversation soon turns into a full-out monologue. "I figure if it's underneath the same magic that marks use, it might be a little bit of both. Might it have something to do with dragons being immortal? --And by immortal, I mean unable to die of old age itself. If I'm correct on that fact. Again, the facts are hazy -- it's been a decade. But still. There are multiple effects that I know of that result from sparking, and it's a phenomenon that not even the largest and most recent books have offered an explanation to. I'm still curios as to if there is one. Of course, it'd be great to just find a dragon and ask, but, well, that might not be the best idea, since some of them are huge and likely hostile, and I doubt any dragon would ever approve of someone probing or inspecting them at any age. Perhaps a dead one could do, but finding a dead dragon only happens once in a blue moon, even if you're the hunter -- actually, especially if you're a hunter. We killed the one when we took the truck, but we had to get going. It's a damned shame, too. I could have done so much with that body. It was probably worth a lot, too. --Oh, boy, I bet a dragon carcass is expensive. I doubt they're even sold anywhere outside the black market, if even there. I'd be willing to pay quite a bit to get my hooves on one; I could learn so much, and it'd be so interesting just to find out how they work. I'd be one of the first, if not the first, too! It's been so long since I've been able to take something apart other than a rat or a squirrel -- not only is it hard to find anything larger in the first place, but also it's hard to preserve something much larger unless I have enough formaldehyde to drown a horse. And, though I don't mind the smell myself, I doubt other people won't. That's even if they don't mind me dissecting a dead thing in their basement. --Though, I did dissect Lunacy. Sort of. He had a giant hole in his chest that I had to fix up, and after he was out, I couldn't help but see how he worked with all of his robot parts. He has so much metal inside of him, I could use him as a lightning rod. The only parts of him that weren't metal at the time were a fair bit of his organs. And, now, most of them are metal, after he got molten magma dumped on him at the train heist. That was incredibly difficult to fix, honestly, but he came out alive, and that's what matters. Thankfully, I had kept one of his nonmetal kidneys from before, and I plan to put that back in as soon as I can. If he lets me fix him up. Which I hope he does, since I don't want him turning into a complete cyborg. That, and there are still a few things I need to fix before he's in tip-top condition. Though I doubt he'll be in good condition again for a long while, after all he's been through."

Just as she finishes, she reaches for her drink. Then, slowly, she stops, her eyes wander to her drink, and it dawns on her just how much she just said.

>>40837800
Amos raised an eyebrow, hearing his suggestion. This cleared out a lot of previous thoughts he had about outside events he had to keep in mind or just wanted to think about sense it left him in such disdain. Part of him wanted to laugh at this suggestion once Amos got to understand what Poet was asking for in detail. It never happened though. He never even smiled. More and more he seemed to get angry, listening to this.

"So... Poe... buddy..." he started. "You start out as a very promising associate, but turn out to have some strange and unexplained idea that you just know everything on how to run this business and that I should just give up everything I worked so hard to simply start up, just cause you said you could do it. You know, the only reason why I've bothered to try and help you get put into a position where you have more control on what happens on the job is because you seemed really interested from the very beginning in having a say. You know that, right?"

He stopped for a moment, breathing heavily from the energy he exerted into both anger and words. He lifted part of his coat open, reaching inside and pulling out a small pistol that was nearly impossible to confirm, but the mere sight of the coat could almost make anyone's guess that there was any weapon inside.

"I've been very gracious to you, and yet you still ask me for more and more. I actually listen to you, and you try to wring out my hold on this company. I imagine that it won't be too long till you start asking for the shirt off my back too, huh?"

As Amos went on, he started to walk to the side of the bed, taking only a few steps till he was already right in front of him.

"This is the gun Salsa used to blow a guys head off his shoulders. I got a better gun for him after I took out some crooked cop. This gun already has some blood on it," he whispered to Poet before putting the gun back under his coat. "The only pony that'll be finding him is some health-activist's dog running around the park."

He laughed, beginning to walk away from Poet to the middle of the room.

"I think it's better if you either learn your limits in this business, and what you can do, or start actually showing me some strength to match the size of your balls. Cause if you think I'm just gonna throw my business over to anyone just because they said they can do it effectively, then you've got another thing coming. Last pony I listened to who said he knew how to run an organization of operators... well... he nearly had the whole city nuked. Nerves go up, knowing that an entire city could have just died in- hell!- not even 20 minutes. That's what happens when the wrong pony sits on the chair. I'm not gonna let someone who's barely been in this business just come up and tell me what to do without any stripes to prove your worth. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I'm only turning things into a hassle when you really need to get your rest. I have to plan out our next move, anyways, so I won't bother you any further."

Amos started walking out the door, leaving with a "Goodbye, Poet," before doing so.

>>40836668
>>40836745
With a whinny, he rises up on his hind legs and strikes at the air with his forelegs--a show of dominance when addressed to a rival, but of support when addressed to family. As he comes down on all fours he once more begins pacing around you, his head bobbing from side to side as he feels you out one hair at a time. It is a simplistic gesture with a simplistic message attached:

You have built it, they will come.

He holds out a foreleg, then: with the hoof held skyward and the wrist twisted, he waits for you to take it, in a strange sort of clasping motion. From there, he will fight you hoof-to-hoof without dodging or breaking--should you choose to take it. If you refuse his challenge, the conversation will carry on without change; and in this way, the devil is in the details.

He casts his gaze over your shoulders and smirks, his tail softly twitching. The language of the bestial tongue is one adept to conveying precise and unpleasant messages--this is one of those times when it does that.

The blue mare-stallion wishes to claim you.

>>40837743

She waved a free leg about, the other holding the shotgun nice and firm. She smiled, and this time it was not one of her fake leave me alone kind of smiles. It seemed genuine or genuine enough. There seemed to be no undercurrent of hatred underneath it all so it was a start.

"Exactly. What do they call it? Shock and awe. Not something any self respecting criminal should strive for but if you have to make a scene...might as well do it right. Don't get much more "right" than kill bots, that is for sure."

She seemed a bit eager, or at least more energetic than she seemed to be. Felt good to get the mind off of brooding for a change. Maybe this whole small talk thing was okay after all.

"Say, you think you remember where the robot is? Why don't we go look for it? Maybe I can find something to shoot on the way."

>>40838291
>>40836745

The blue wah...?!

>Freezing in place and completely ignoring his outstretched hoof, Carnage turned to look in the direction the Old Man's tail flicked seeing the giant blue idiot with an axe strapped to his back leering down at her with some cretin expression she couldn't quite make out at this distance. Turning back to the Old Man, Carnage cringed as hard as one looked like they could. Sniffing the air loudly and stamping her hoof into the ground in a show of frustration.

How many times do I have to refuse his stupid invitations to dinner before he takes a hint and fucks off?!

>With that though, she turned her attention solely on the stallion before her and his outstretched hoof. It was an invitation to fight with her but on a totally different level than they had been before, a test he proposed to his daughter to prove that his renewed strength could take any punishment she could throw at him without breaking. It was something, to be sure, as far as she could remember the Old Man had never believed in himself well enough to propose anything like this, then again, she had only ever known him from before he had failed his wife so... who knew, maybe he was just getting back to what he was meant to be.

>Shaking her head and grinning wildly at her father, Carnage clasped her hoof with his and nodded her head once, accepting his challenge and willing to see just what he mounted up to now that he'd thrown off the decrepit cloak he'd forced onto himself and show at the same time that she didn't fear the solid beating that would inevitably come of this exchange of straight blows.

>>40838376
He is simple. But not entirely unfitting...

He begins slowly moving from side to side, his wrist locked with yours so that your steps mirror his; he goes from side to side, forth and back, pushing and pulling you like a weight. It becomes clear after a moment that he is not testing himself, but rather testing you--seeing what a life in prison did to you. He wants to see if you meet his eyes, if you are afraid to walk backwards, if you flinch when he raises his hoof; and after several long moments he nods and disengages, before turning once more to Umi. You are well aware that High Noon--in what was, at times, the only trace of society left within him--was loathe to speak with you in the presence of others. They always had a way of getting the wrong impression...

But very simple. He is a wild man, but plays at being civil. Not at all brave enough for you. You could break him.

>>40838391
>>40838376
>>40838291
Umi watched the dance continue on, the pegasus thinking, quietly, about what should be done. He needed to speak with her. He knew what he would need to do. He began slipping his armor off, piling the heavy plates beside him. His ax soon joined the rest, before Umi returned to his watch. He was planning something. It wasn't exceptionally hard to figure out, but he doubted the orange mare was even paying attention to him. His mind was made up, and he was determined. There was one thing he needed to do, and he was going to do it, no matter if she wanted to or not. He was going to speak with Carnage, and do so in a way she would understand. He looked down at his hooves. This was going to go well, or the exact opposite. But, hey, the worst she could do was kill him!

Standing, Umi walked towards Carnage and the Old Man, his face impassive and stony. His steps were deliberate, the mountainous pony passing the Father with a curt nod, before arriving at the Daughter. He looked down at her, for a mere moment, before his right hoof came up, aimed right for the mare's jaw. *CRACK!* He prayed that his message to the mare was clear, and that she would at least listen.

I need to talk to you, now.

==FROST==
Several days after your confrontation with Farasi, in the relative calm of the city above the wastes--to which you must make the occasional visit, to make sure your affairs are in order--you get a ring on your phone. It comes at a strange and inopportune time: when you're heading down the elevator from the concourse, en route to...wherever it is you go when you're not working. It also comes with a strange ringtone, which you don't remember setting--a simple series of arrhythmic high-pitched beeps, that seem too irregular to even be some kind of sound code. It is nothing more than noise, meant to draw attention as effectively as possible.

It worked.

>>40838441

Unlike some of her companions, the wastes were not a necessity to her. She had her own home, her apartment above in the city. She had the concourse and a burgoning community to tend to. More often than not, when she was not working either in the Pitts or the Warrens, she was spending time at home or enjoying a refreshing walk. She was just on her way to do that when...

"What the fuck?"

This was not a tone she remembered setting. In fact she was certain the phone did not even have a setting like that. She almost was tempted into thinking it was broken initially. Drawing the phone out, she answered the call and spoke in a voice that was as calm as possible. Casual almost though not quite friendly.

"Hello? Who is this?"

>>40838448

"Designation Oracle."

Oh hey, it's this asshole again. Well, at least this time hes just calling you on the phone and not sending you some bomb-laden laptop or some jumped-up cyborg messenger or something. After all this time among the cuckoos and the conspirators, it's easy to forget that sometimes people just send messages the old-fashioned way. Even if the person sending them is a cryptic funny-hatted pixelly-voiced AI.

"You want to be dealt in. Consider this your first card. Find a quiet place to sit down."

>>40838470

It was likely a really bad idea that she continued to listen to this fellow. They did not have the best history of all. Not the best, certainly a checkered past, but she did want to be dealt in. She did say that.. So she found herself a nice, quiet little alleyway to settle herself into, pulled up a corner of the alley that was marginally more clean than the others, had herself a sit and spoke to the mysterious AI.

"Alright...I wanted to be dealt in. So start dealing. What do you got for us? Tell me whatever you are liberty to tell."

She listened intently, Her dark clothing and even darker shades hiding away an expression already blank and unreadable. That was not to say she was not interested of course. Curiosity, after all, was a very strong factor in all of this. Perhaps something can be found out.

>>40837999
The massive red drake starts out with an indulgent grin as she gets going, but shortly begins to grow more and more tense until around the midpoint of her monologue. He stays silent for a good long while after she's finished speaking before turning in his chair and staring down at her intently, his big golden eyes bright with anger.

When he speaks, his voice is quiet but intense, in the manner of far-off rolling thunder. "Given your... ignorance, I'll forgive you this time, but there are some things about us that you need to understand. As a species, we're very traditional. Most of us in the new generations are far, far less so than our parents, but we are by and large the product of our parents' upbringing."

He sets his glass down with absolute care, as if afraid it'll shatter in his huge forepaw. "The oldest of those traditions relates to something of a creation myth. Essentially, it says that a great Mother of All Dragons came here to raise her children, and that they inherited her Fire. She eventually left under... unfortunate circumstances, but the Fire remained to link her children together, and remind them of their connection to her."

He absentmindedly traces a claw around the edges of the medallion hanging against his bare chest. It's of some dark metal, engraved near the edge with the image of a draconic ouroboros, and a golden gem with a chip of onyx set inside in the center, cut in the shape of a dragon's eye. "...To make a long story short, our funeral rites also revolve around the Fire. A dragon's flesh might rot if left out, but the process of rigor makes the bones practically indestructible, and somewhat... crystalline in structure. It becomes iridescent, like mother-of-pearl, and the only way it can be disposed of is by another dragon's firebreath."

He sighs and shakes his head. "It's considered incredibly disrespectful for the bones to be left out like that. Sacrilegious, almost. Between dragons, it's the sort of thing only the most absolutely bitter of enemies might do to each other." He shows the hint of a rueful smile. "...Of course, you can imagine the sort of animosity that can cause between us and places like museums that would have put any bones they found on display while our species wasn't around. To say nothing of private collectors." He clears his throat. "The point is, trade in dragon corpses - while it does probably happen - is only the barest sliver below that, if only because we respect turning a profit. You'll not find many dragons who'd bear knowing you trafficked in that sort of thing quietly."

>>40838488
To say Doc was scared is an understatement; as soon as that glare landed on her, her ears fell back, her posture wilted, and she shrunk back. For a good portion of his explanation, she wasn't completely listening. She was more focused on keeping calm and not shitting herself. Although, her curious face kicked in for a moment, at the mention of dragon bones and how rigor affects them, but it's soon gone as the fear and discomfort comes back.

Her eyes dart quickly from left to right in fear. She opens her mouth, but for a moment or two, nothing comes out; it seems she doesn't know exactly what to say to avoid getting turned into a roast. Finally, natural instincts kick in, and it's not surprising that the Doctor has chosen flight.

"...Y-You know, perhaps I've said too much," she says, slowly sliding off of her seat. "I-I really, uh... Lunacy, I mean, really needs to see me. I have something to deliver before wwe get back to Canterlot. A-And I'm sure you understand when I say I don't want Lunacy to be angry at me. Again. Haha!"

In one clumsy motion, she plops off of her seat, swoops up her saddlebags, and turns toward the door. Her saddlebags were still unlatched, due to her haste; the dragon could likely see some contents. Though most of it wouldn't be very intersting, a large sparkle of a jewel may catch his eye, especially if he was hungry; Doc must have some admirable jewelry.

"I-I'll see you around! I think!" she hollars, power-trotting towards the door.

>>40838320
Farasi bobbed his head in agreement, his grin only widening. If she was eager, he was practically ecstatic in his own, jittery way. It was wholly possible that he would have gushed on endlessly about the applications of such a force and why it was a great idea, but her next question made him stop and think. He frowned, and nodded again, but it was slower this time.

"I... remember, yeah. I remember the place; it's... hard to forget. Just have'ta get the route straightened out."

"The, uh... the Old Man'd probably know, if I asked," he admitted sheepishly, speaking as though he didn't think that would end well for him. "Doesn't matter. I'll get there eventually."

>>40838232
Coherent thought failed him, though he remained quite at ease in his place in bed, only breathing a deeply annoyed sigh as a touch of flame colored his thoughts, which could only be summed up in that universal observation that seemed to fit almost anywhere - but most especially in situations such as the one he was in now.


Christ, what an asshole.

>>40837679
Swiftwing thought it over himself for a brief moment. He thought of all the differences and the ways he somehow managed to recover himself from his rather rough start to the group. He was at least sort of feeling accepted at this point, whether or not he was a nuisance was up for discussion. Relaxing back in his chair, he let out a quiet 'heh' in response to keep the mood above the water.

"Again... I like the optimism. We're not exactly as simple as just a rag tag group. We kinda know what we're doing I feel like. But there's a lot of shit out there that is mad at us. And I'm just thinking sooner or later, well the rides gotta end sometime."

>>40838500
He watches her leave for a moment before shaking his head to clear the thoughts, then standing and following her out. He'd let his natural reaction get the better of him, and forgotten that even before he sparked he'd been of an intimidating size.

He catches up to her just outside the door, in a dark parking lot somewhere between New Canterlot and the beach. "Hey! Doc! Slow down, would ya? I didn't mean to scare ya off there." He flashes a quick grin, careful not to show his teeth. "Like I said, just a friendly warnin'. To make sure you know what's goin' on. Professional courtesy, like."

>>40838536
There's the distant sounds of a toilet flushing, and Driftwood comes back into the hospital room.

"Whooh, don'tcha go in there for a few hours, mon!"

Driftwood resumes his seat next to Poet.

"Whaddid I miss, mon?"

>>40838477

"Records show that someone with your name recently spent four months at the New Baabylon School of business management and consistently scored above-average on tests.

"Records also show that at the time of their bankruptcy declarations, the Lonestar company had an estimated six hundred billion credits left within their offshore accounts. Additionally, several members of the Senate Superior approved the cessation of contract action despite being known associates of Lonestar lobbyists.

Rationalize."

Of course nothing can ever be simple in this business. With every scrap of information there comes a puzzle to solve. At least this one has a hard-and-fast endgame.

>>40838531

"It couldn't hurt to ask..." She said, though she sounded a little unsure about the idea herself. The old man was one she respected. He was not unreasonable. But being dragged along to go find an ancient kill mech on behalf of the two faced zebra might be considered a waste. Or not. Regardless she found the merits of a walk through apocalypse worth risking mild annoyance. All things depending.

"Sure to be around here somewhere...and if its not? Well you got some mutants to go kill. Should not be too much of a problem. Depending on the mutant."


>>40839227

It made perfect sense that he would be monitoring her progress in school. Just as it made sense for him to go be coy and give her slightly cryptic responses. Frost had little patience for such games but it was an occupational hazard you had to get used to. It was not the worst, or even the most dangerous puzzle he offered to her. Annoyance was, at this stage and time, acceptable.

"Yes, she would score consistently high and yes, that is a lot of Lonestar Cheddar. Doing so well, you kind of wonder why they went and declared bankruptcy even? Or why friends of Lonestar lobbyists would turn on them so suddenly. Half the reason Lonestar even became what it is was because of those friends. So hundreds of billions of credits in the bank and out of business in Equestria somehow. Even with the hits they took to their stock and reputation, that seems pretty extreme. Sounds like the top brass got themselves a better deal."


"Whatever it is, something is obviously fishy here. I get that. What I am having a hard time understanding is...why me? I mean, besides my criminal enterprises, but why bring up business school?"

>>40839308

"Aptitude examination."

Of the many, many, many words that you rarely want to hear, those two are perhaps the worst of all when coming from the mouth of a hyper-aware supercomputer. Failing to appease the illumineighti--even in some fashion as simple as this--is the sort of thing ponies do a few hours before they disappear for the rest of time. It would behoove you to listen and think very carefully.

"I have analyzed the data and determined thirteen rational conclusions. Your objective is to present a hypothesis that has at least sixty percent of ideological markers as one of mine, or a hypothesis that can be supported through a conclusion outside of my markers.

"Begin."

>>40839308
It definitely could hurt to ask, and she knew it. But somehow, he got the impression that she wasn't trying to coax him into doing something that might get his jaw broken; she was, he dared to think, trying to be optimistic. Or maybe that was just his imagination. He shrugged, his body shoulders nearly poking through the somewhat ragged remains of his black duster.

"I'll look into it. One way or another, I ain't leavin' this place without her."

"... I'm pretty sure muties die just like ponies," Farasi thought aloud, his good eye narrowing at nothing. "Might struggle a bit more. Or less. Or... Eh, I'll figure it out when I get there. Long as I keep my head on straight 'n don't do anything... stupid."

>>40838944
When she hears Prometheus' voice, she stops in her tracks and turns her head. It takes her a short moment to come up with a coherent response.

"Y-Yes, I get that! Yes! I had no idea! And I probably should have tried to have an idea before rambling on and on about my, uh--... Uh... Passions! Yeah! And I thank you for that!" she stutters, turning around to face him. She has a sheepish smile on her face, and her ears are still pinned to her head. "But I think that I've, uh... I don't know, I feel like I've done something horribly wrong!"

"And, uh..." she starts, trying to dig up at least one more excuse. Her attempts are futile, and she just trails off into silence.

>>40838597
Well I don't plan on letting it break down anytime soon, so I'm going to try my best to help out in any way. I mean I can still go back up there without any concern so if you need anything I'll be able to get it for you.
>gren would stretch out her one good wing and look it over

>>40839639
He smiles sheepishly, forepaws up and towards her. "Relax, relax... I get it, you're interested in how things work, and it's not like there are any bein' donated to universities. Stuff like autopsies are fine... it's just sellin' off the parts that causes problems. Get a dragon to take care of it when you're done, and you shouldn't have... too many problems."

He frowns and looks out over the parking lot. "No more 'n the usual sort of black market organ trade shit, anyhow. Maybe even less. As far as I'm concerned, it's their own damn fault for not stayin' home if they wind up on a slab."

>>40839654
Swiftwing shook his head with a small chuckle, which flattened out to what was barely an idle smile, looking to the gryphon as she looked her own self over. "If I could, I'd almost honestly say it wouldn't be worth it... I dind't know if this group left as much of an impression as it did on me, I mean we joined at the same time pretty much.. but the risk, I'm not entirely sure it's worth the reward to jump on at this stage of the group. I'm more than happy to have you, don't get me wrong, just a slight concern..."

>>40839656
Doc pauses for a moment, and after realizing that the situation isn't as bad as she thought, she lets out a deep breath. "I... Well, if you say so," she finally says, her ears coming back up. "I can't help but think I just brought some attention to myself, but... Mmm. I'm in no position to make assumptions here. I shouldn't be diving horn first into this."

"But do understand that this is going to bug the absolute hell out of me until I find some way to actually do some more thorough research. Especially with that whole bit about the dragon's skeleton after death. If what you say is true, then there must be some sort of cause, and if there's a cause, there must be some sort of way to replicate the effect and apply it to--"

"Son of a bitch, I'm doing it again," she blurts, shaking her head.

>>40838424
>>40838391
>Watching the Old Man walk silently away from what should have been a long and sweet conversation with his daughter, Carnage turned towards Umi's direction expecting him to shyly ask her out to dinner again and so turned up her face towards him only to feel a heavy hoof crash into her face, scrunching up her fur and leaving her reeling from the blow with a message ringing in her ears delivered in a voice far more masculine and gruff than Umi's external voice ever sounded.

Ay won' to talk to ye!

>Once she'd recovered herself from the suddenness of the attack, Carnage looked to the side and spat out a glob of bloodied saliva before brushing her snout with her foreleg with something approaching a royal demeanor. For when she moved her head to glare Umi in the eye with her own demonic red gaze, the barbarian would have found nothing but fury and irritation at his continuous and incessant approaches. Stamping her hoof into the ground and snorting loudly, she twisted around to smack her forehoof against his defenseless right foreleg.

You talk like a brute and you stand like you've never felt pride in your entire life.

What in Celestia's grand sky does someone like you have to talk with me?!

>>40839691
"I know it's somethin' to do with the other specific racial magic we have. The earth affinity that comes out in our diets, lets us process rocks n' minerals and not need organic matter."

He shrugs, then gingerly rubs one arm. "I know my bones sure as hell ain't unbreakable right now. Had a real nasty experience a couple months back... Past that though, I don't know much at all. I'm the bomb guy, not the medic."

>>40839689
I'm not quite sure I follow what you mean Blue, do you mean me coming back in the thick of it all?
>she folds her wing in then stretched her bad one showing off the broken parts of it and a few missing pieces

Umi wondered just how bad his accent was, but didn't worry himself to much on it. He watched her spit the bloodied saliva aside, eyes meeting her's, as she looked back. Demonic red met a deep, almost fathomless blue, the stallion feeling a slight pull at his lip, a faint snarl forming at her pomp. Ponies like this...what right did she have to assume herself so high above him? His gaze was cold, detached. A sharp exhale huffed from his nostrils, ears pinning back, in a blatant display of aggression.

As her hoof lashed out at him, Umi lifted his leg over it, before darting forward. His forehead crashed against hers, the towering stallion using the advantages he had. He knew he would need to prove something to Carnage. He wasn't some dumb brute to toss aside. He wasn't just some low level operator. He was, he hoped to convince her, on par with herself. He did not have her credentials, but his pedigree was as rooted in notoriety, in his own land, as hers was in Canterlot.

Don' think ye know jack shit abou' me. Wha' do Ah have ta talk with ye abou'?

He snorted, tail flicking in irritation. His posture was laden with clear aggression.

How abou' the fact tha' you seem to think I'm not even worthy of carrying you guns, let alone work with ye.

>>40839708
"Yeah..." he replied as his eyes weren't on hers, more on her wings as he continued to, at least as little creepily as he could, observe her broken and missing features. "I just mean, like... I'm honestly not sure if the things we've done can just be forgotten any time soon. Not really a bounty we can just pay off the table, y'know..? And we don't really have a plan right now. I don't know how we're handling this. I hardly ever have anyone to talk to about anything, I'm moved down here for my own protection, and I can take care of myself.. but that's not really who I am, y'know??"

>>40839704
"Well, if I'm ever to get down to the bottom of this, I have a lot of work ahead of me. Not that I mind! I love my work! I just don't like the work I'd have to do to start said work, if that makes any sense. Thankfully, if it's anything like pony magic, I might have some sort of starting ground. But I'll save that for later."

She then turns her attention to his arm. "...Oh, did you break something? Hm. I wonder how tough dragon bones are compared to ours. --Anyhow! I have a proposition that could help us both, if you'd like to hear it."

>>40839712
Yea I get you, but sometimes you just gotta sorta roll with the punches, and don't let them get you down. Like with your time in prison sure it was bad, but something came around to help you get through it. Just keep your head up. Besides not like disbanding is going to stop the bounties on you all.
>She folds her wings back and lets out a sigh of relief as they go back into position

>>40839721
Swiftwing elicited a bit of a chuckle. "Yeah.. that's a nice fresh sense of optimism... it's welcoming, really. I just hope it can stand... And honestly I'm not seeing msyelf as being a downer, I'm still a higher up compared to the rest of the group. But I'm just a bit more realistic lately. I've gotten a bit adjusted and acclimated." He added while thinking to himself, and noticing her behaviors. He recognized his own old personality of 5 months prior, though she seemd a bit more socially inclined at the least.

>>40839716
He tilts his head to the side and flashes a quick, toothy grin before he can help himself. "I think I do know what you mean. And I'm fine now. Wouldn't have been able to throw that car, otherwise... But now I'm the one ramblin'. Just what is this prrroposition of yours?" The last comes out as another deeply masculine rumble, accompanied by a brief snort of steam from his nostrils.

>>40839731
Yea I think getting away from this place and getting some new air helped me realized some things. Such as there's usually always some sort of good side to any situation no matter how bleak.

>>40839737
"W-wait hold on now!" He spoke up a bit, trying to defend his position. "I'm already on the band-wagon of looking at the silver linign and the brighter side! I've been trying to do that the whole time I've been with this group! You can ask Umi, taht's how I helped get him through prison. A giant, claustrophobic barbarian like him in a small cell and essentially in captivity fr 12 hours, I did a lot of damage control to get us both out of there alive and in one piece. The lighter to sid eto where we are now, I suppose, woudl be that we're just too awesome to get taken down and we get away every time because of our ability and skill sets. Amplified from your presence now."

>>40839740
Oh don't get me wrong I was never saying that you weren't optimistic, I'm just saying a few months ago I would have given up all hope, it was more a statement on me than you.
>she would smile and scratch her head again

>>40839747
Swiftwing just took a bit of a breather for a moment after she spoke, resting his forhooves together on the couch and rubbing them together. "Thanks, Gren... for coming down to talk... I think I was starting to get a bit deranged or cynical from the, well, overall lack of company." He slumped over in his stool a bit resting on the counter, eyes closing slowly as he rested his head on the counter, letting out a deep breath as he glanced into nothing, rubbing at his mane a bit

>>40839736
"Oh, I can see you're fine now. But, knowing this business, that may not last for long. And that's where my proposal comes in."

She smirks a bit and gies the dragon a quick glance-over. "You. You said you couldn't meet at Lucius since there's a problem getting in the way. Now, if you can't get into a club without fear of getting called out, I very much doubt you'd ever be able to go to a hospital -- much less one that has the slightest clue on how to treat a dragon."

"Now. I know little about dragons, but I have examined a few smaller reptiles in my day. It's not much, granted, but you probably won't get much more anywhere else. I can help you, if you ever get in a tight spot and need to keep your head low. Hell, I'd do it for free, too. That's because my 'payment' wouldn't be monetary. Perhaps it's a bit unconventional, but my point still stands."

>>40839752
>Gren would just watch him as she sat there
You feeling okey? You look like you have something you need to do or a score to settle or somethin'

>>40839755
The scaled titan rumbles thoughtfully, massive but still-too-small wings beating at the air before he tucks them back in. "The idea of havin' a real doc for emergencies is appealing, I've got to admit. But that's a hell of a lot of trust to give, an' I've learned enough caution to want to have the full terms of the deal spelled out in writing."

He smiles briefly, perhaps to try to reassure her he hadn't meant any offense. "I'll keep it in mind either way, though. I ever show up half dead at your door, consider it temporary consent or whatever."

>>40839758
Her words ran through Swiftwing's head for a moment, before processing them. He blinked a couple times and softened up, shaking his head in response as he turned back to her, a hoof running up to his neck and sheepishly rubbing it. "O-oh, yeah..." he stuttered a bit. "I'm fine, really! I'm just... trying to get used to all of this and make sure that I myself am acclimated to how things are now. I don't really have any grudges or scores to settle." He replied with a slight chuckle, settling back down.

>>40839833
"Oh, I understand what you mean. I would never expect you to trust me right away. I'm not sure if there's a way to truly earn it other than to say 'I was there when we made Lonestar bankrupt', either. But. If your options are limited, you know where to turn. And my terms would be simple."

Doc adapts more of a business tone as she speaks, looking up at the dragon with a mostly straight face. She couldn't stop that smirk from sticking on her face, though. "I'd patch you up and fix whatever needs fixing. While I do so, however, I'd like to explore your body; I'd want to learn about your digestive, respiratory, and cardiovascular systems, note anatomy, and keep track of any unique or noteworthy findings. Perhaps I could dig deeper and do further research on anything I find intriguing," she says, a bit of glee in her voice. Once she realizes that she's about to slip into a fantasy world again just by thinking about it, she stops herself. "But I will have my limits. By the end of it all, you'll have whatever problem you had fixed. I'll also be sure to leave you in one piece. Though I doubt I'd take anything out in the first place for safety and comfort reasons, I think it'd be nice for you to know that I'm not going to literally gut you. Sort of like window shopping, if you think about it."

"Also, I can find plenty of drugs to knock you out and stop the pain. Even if you're much larger than the average pony, I'm sure I could work out something with what I have. But, if you have a strong stomach and some distrust, I could leave you awake and let you watch! Ill-advised, since one typically doesn't like the sight of their own guts and may or may not have an increased heart rate, but that's for you to decide. I'd still numb the pain, though."

At the tail end of her sentence, a memory snags in her mind, and she looks down at the ground with concern. "Unless you don't want me to, for some unholy reason. Lunacy tried that once. It was... Interesting."

>>40839876
Well alright then.
>she would smile and sit silently for a moment before speaking up again
So who's in charge these days? Is that one pony still around? or did someone new step up to the plate.

>>40839509
"Oh great." She said, followed by a swift "Fan-fucking-tastic. Its pop quiz time. Is my head going to explode? My cell phone maybe?"

For an hyper advanced AI he seemed to enjoy his little games. Frost thought this likely a defense mechanism of some sort. Like the Sphinx of legend, requiring of the travelers a riddle to answer. There was a certain brilliance to it, as much as it annoyed the living daylights out of her. It was not as if this was impossible either. Sixty percent was not a bad number after all. Still her teeth were ground all the same. An annoyed huff signaling the beginning of this demented guessing game.

"Well, Lonestar did say a little something about getting a "Better" offer the last time. Regarding the nuclear weapons. This went beyond even the rainbow mare from the upper city. You would think that a little weird given how buddy-buddy Lonestar is with many powerful ponies, but maybe they are not friends with everyone?"


"So they got a better offer to grab the nuke. Maybe this better offer extends a little further than that as well. If they have the wealth to purchase nuclear arms, it might stand to reason that buying off the services of the whole company isn't too far fetched. Now question is...who would want the nuke?"

"They have to be powerful, if Lonestar would be willing to go "Bankrupt" with all the wealth in the world, backed by their friends in the senate. Someone is paying them handsomely to sever ties with the Equestrians. So at least one of those "Rational conclusions" of yours, has to include the possibility of a foreign government right? They would have the power needed to make a better deal for them. They would also have the motive to purchase nuclear arms...but why purchase on the blackmarket what you could have easily done yourself, with the wealth of a nation behind you? Well simple. Proxy. Deniability, access to resources that are not their own, but still working towards their goals. Or so they think at least..."


"I know one being who has access to powerful friends and contacts, especially in upper, seemingly limitless wealth, the ability to manipulate and deceive and with a connection with lonestar to boot. Someone who can fit the bill of proxy for them. I am thinking the Demon. He has the connections, he has the wealth, he has the power and he knows Lonestar. For example, to support this...an associate of mine was taken captive not that long ago. By the Demon himself if the signs are to be believed. Where did my friend end up? Dead man's ridge. In the upper city, pursuing a lead with a building that also has a personal connection to him, showing the same signs...guess what we found? Lonestar guarding the facility. Lonestar are mercenaries through and through, but this leads me to believe that they happen to share a cozy relationship. It also does not help that the Demon personally attacked me after scoping out Lonestar again..."

She shudders slightly at the thought. More so out of anger than anything else. She hated the demon. With a passion. She meant what she said in wanting it dead. Perhaps someday she might just get her chance.

"So what do you think so far? Obviously I am not an omniscient AI with access to most of the worlds knowledge, so I am working with what I got right now."

>>40840513

"Observational capacity registering in the seventy-sixth percentile. Informational possession approximated at thirty-eight percent. Sarcasm levels...should be decreased."

It seems highly unlikely that any AI in the world, no matter how advanced, actually has a means by which it can identify and quantify sarcasm. However, it seems equally unlikely that someone would go out of their way to program a sense of humor for it. Either way, its distaste is evident--but at least it's not phone-explodingly evident. For the moment, you have appeased it, and while scoring well above the required percentile to boot.

"Objection: no known government currently has an anti-Equestrian agenda. Rationalize."

Removing the mask and thus the alias of the now incredibly infamous mass murdering honourable but bat-shit insane Samurai; Jet Stream. Sam decided to pay a visit to middle canterlot, heading to his favorite shit hole bar. Club Lucius. Dressed today in his usual Club Lucius special, sword sheathed across his back for comfort. The huge stallion simply planned to relax tonight. Of course, something that hadn't occurred to him until now was having an ethereal tail made of mist and kitten fluff rather stood out. His giant green tail softly swaying back and forth behind him, occasionally splitting into several thinner tails before recombining as the stallion sat at the bar, quietly enjoying a pint of the best microbrew the bar had to offer alongside a big old hayburger. Yes. Tonight was good.

So far at least.

Never know who you'll meet or what you'll find coming to a bar like this, last time he came here just to relax on his own, he ended up recruiting Umi.

Ah well... I guess we'll see.

>>40840595

"Wow," a voice intones, husky, destinctly feminine. And.....shockingly deep, for someone so...small.

Six inches tall, to be exact. An augmented Breezie hovered on artificial wings. A teenie-tiny pipe in her hoof, from which a teenie-tiny puff of purple smoke drifted lazily. Now you've seen everything.

Her gaze was locked onto Sam's ass. Specifically, the glorious tail that connected there. Funny how they do that, tails. Connect to asses.

She flittered over, and tried to pass her teenie-tiny hoof through the ethereal tail.

"Sweet Celestia of Equestria dude. Where you buyin that hair conditioner because I need this shit in my life.

>>40840595
And meanwhile at a table near the bar a scraggly-maned stallion in battered, beaten, and torn wizard robes and equally battered hat sat smoking a cigarette, eyeing the odd-looking newcomer with a curious glance. Figuring that there was nothing ventured, nothing gained, he offers an...

"Ey, mon."

Then heads back to his smoking.

>>40840620
Her hoof simply passed right through, not unlike running your hand through a cool mist, there was a certain thickness to it however. Like hairs parting to let her hoof by, flowing around it rather than constricting it in anyway, but the hairs themselves where hard to actually.... well... see.

The stallion, a giant of an earth pony, lean and muscular looked down towards her with almond shaped eyes that hinted his neighponese heritage. Though his accent only held the faintest hint of it.

"Yare yare daze."

He said very quietly to himself in wonder, watching the tiny robotic pony flit about him in the air.

"Can I help you... Miss?"
He asked, turning in his seat to look down at the little pony, the glowing ethereal trail leaving swirling contrails in the air and seeming to become even less solid for a moment before returning to soflty waving back and forth at his back

>>40840626
Sam merely gave the rastifarian a friendly nod and a shockingly nice smile for someone in middle canterlot. Teeth not only all straight, not only all pure winter white. But his teeth actually sparkled with an audible ting as he grinned at you.

"Hello." Was all he said, eyes still tracking the tiny robopone flying about him.

>>40840639
>>40840634
>>40840626

"Fuck yeah you can help me. I - I NEED - this," She went on, playing with the glorious non-strands. "I was here for completely unrelated stuff, but this is the most neato thing I've seen in at least 16 hours," she concluded confidently, with an approving nod.

"You gotta tell me, Muscles."

>>40840639
Well how about that. Turns out you CAN meet decent folks anywhere, even if they were probably a mutant of some sort with a fancy tail like that. And then there's the ting-ing smile. That's enough to elicit an eyebrow raise and a look down at the smokable Driftwood was holding in his teeth.

"Pleased ta meetcha, mon."

>>40840644
And now he's REALLY looking at the thing in his mouth, giving it a serious look.
"...I tink I should really be layin off this stuff now."
He slowly sets it down in the ashtray nearby.

>>40840652

One of her ears flicks in his direction, while her hoof still (almost drunkenly) plays with the tail. She lazily lols her head to look at him.

And then the thing in the ash-tray.

"...Hey...you gonna finish that?"

>>40840567

There was the urge to push the god like artificial intelligence further. To test the limits of its programming via the sharp, bitter blade of sarcasm. Inconsequential in the end, and an unnecessary risk for something that very well could blow her phone up. Or, more than likely, whisk her away to dissection land. Possibly both. Still, it made her smile all the same.

"I was raised in Manehatten and though it does not have any anti-Equestrian policies, you would be a fool for thinking there is any love between the two. Most ponies there hate your guts. Not enough to start a war though, or at least for most, but with the right motivation..."

"Operating under the assumption of foreign interest, lack of overt policy does not preclude hostile sentiment among the powers that be. If they had an openly Anti-Equestrian agenda, than they would not need to go through the black market. It might even be the work of a rogue element operating within their channels of power or even outside of it, with access to the resources necessary to move the pieces. No one wants a war just yet, but there is enough tension to set the ball rolling with the right tools and targets."

"It is likely that any foreign entity would be working through unofficial channels is what I am getting at. Working through private, yet sympathetic backers with enough power and influence to cover their tracks and give them as much deniability as they can possibly want. It is equally likely that this is entirely the work of a private entity, with influence in both domestic and foreign spheres, who desires war as an outcome. Would that be another "rational conclusion" of yours? If not a government, a mega corp could also provide the resources necessary for both nuclear arms and Lonestar's flight. "

>>40840657
He looks down at it. Part tobacco, part cheap marijuana. Hand-rolled. Then back up at the hovering floaty thing. Then back down again. Then back up. Well, another thing to add to the list of things he's seen.

"Uh... You know what, mon? You go ahead and have it."

Boy, was he interested to see just how the tiny mare intended to actually smoke it. This was bound to be entertaining. He tries to stifle a cough as he just leans back and watches.

>>40840665

She smiles, in a dreamy, I'm-sort-of-dreaming-right-now kind of way. Her wings hum as she delicately floats over, her hoof finally pulling away from the tail. She alights delicately on the bar-top.

"This looks different," she comments idly, setting her own, miniature pipe down. Slowly (but gracefully) she approached the ash-tray. She was a lithe little thing.

Still grinning the half-grin, she sat down next to it. With both hooves, and with effort, lifted one end of the bastard doobie, the lit end still pressing against the tray. Without much hesitation at all, leaned in, and had herself a puff. Although really, it looked less like someone was taking a puff, and more like someone was halfway between trying to commit suicide by swallowing the worlds largest frozen burrito, and then chickening out.

She pulled her mouth away from it after a second, and coughed an adorable little cough, smoke rising into the air. She blinks several times.

"Ahhhn. Not as harsh as I was expecting. What do they call these? Toblucco?" she intones, after a solid two seconds of simply breathing in oxygen (you can imagine how small her lungs would be.) Quite the ordeal, taking a puff turned out to be.

>>40840662

"Objection. International Atomichemical war is a failure state for approximately ninety-five percent of known terrestrial life forms. International ground war is a failure state for approximately sixty-three percent of sapient terrestrial life forms. No thinking creature in the world would voluntarily engage in either for fear of mutually assured destruction."

That's the heart of the matter, really. An AI can't understand anything beyond what it is programmed to understand as rational, regardless of how advanced it might be. It cannot conceive of a higher power, or of a problem that cannot be solved; and it most certainly cannot envision a scenario wherein a world leader would attempt to come to blows with the Equestrian military corpus--Lonestar or no, the might of the Atomichemical hellspear is, for this machine, the ultimate trump card. So long as one side holds it, neither side--either from fear, or confidence. Maybe that's why the Oracle called you in the first place: maybe it needed a genuine equine perspective on the matter.

Either way, it doesn't stop there.

"Your hypothesis shares approximately ninety-five percent of the ideological markers identified in Hypothesis Eight. Aptitude exam results satisfactory. Would you like your next card?"

>>40840684

That the AI would turn to Frost, of all "ponies" to get an equine perspective on the affairs of the state might imply a certain degree of desperation. Regardless it was clear what the limitations of this machine were. In a way, it reminded her of what she used to be like. Perhaps she evolved to counteract the glaring issues with this particular pattern of thought? If indeed, she was truly so different at all. So much still uncertain. Letting out a sigh both out of frustration and of minor relief, she flexed her metal leg and continued further down the rabbit hole.


"I would like my next card, yes. Feel free to deal...what do you have for me?"

>>40840683
>>40840652
>>40840644
Muscles, as he was so aptly named gave a meagre chuckle at the comment, shrugging gently.

"I'd be pretty impressed if you could get yourself one." He said, watching the fey creature go for a smoke

"I helped one of those creepy outsider folk. You know the ones. Wanderes or whatever equestrians call them. I protected him from some assholes who where hunting him. As a reward. He gave me this tail."

"It's a handy thing." He finished nonchalantly as the tip of the tail formed into four claws and gently picked up the tiny creature between them

>>40840683
Driftwood watches with a slight chuckle. Well, this was probably some sort of hallucination, but that didn't mean it wasn't a fun one.
"Rolled it myself, mon. Call it tha drifty blend."
The wizard is unable to stifle a laugh at the sight. Whoo, that's funny.
"Bitta pipeweed... Or tobacco, mebbe, and a little hashish mixed in. Drifty blend... You okay there, little mon?"
>>40840709
Driftwood just listens in to the story. Those guys just... Hmmh. Magic things always made him weirdly itchy. He scratches idly at the spent nicotine patch on his right foreleg and nods along with the stranger's story, not really having anything to add onto that.

>>40840709

The ciggajuana fell back to the tray with a soft 'piff' as she was plucked into the air. A moment of utter shock and horror glanced across her face as the claws appeared, grabbing her, pulling her up. Bite-sized terror.

But that was over in a second. After her slightly addled mind caught up with what was happening, she snorted, and laughed. She grinned a lop-sided grin.

"Dude. Your tail is so pretty, probably gets lot of girls attention you know? But - I bet this is the first time your tail has ever like, LITERALLY picked up chicks before."

She laughed again. She was just fuckin hilarious.

Once back in order, she returned her attention to the tail itself. Tested its density. Experimenting - and then, pauses, looking up at him.

"...That sounds like a really interesting story. But you didn't tell it like a story. You told it like it was a shopping list. Tell me again. But in a story kind of way. What were you doing - how old were you? Did you KILL anybody?" she added suddenly with an interested, curious eyebrow, the same lop-sided smirk quite apparent.

>>40840709

"Dude - I'm so fine. I'm walkin on sunshine~" she replied, closing her eyes, walking on the ethereal tail.

Or more like closing her eyes, and writhing drunkenly against the ghostly claws that held her.

A little weird, that's for sure.

>>40840738
"I can't!" He said with a proud cheery grin, plopping her down back on the table gently and patting her with one of the claws

"Because that was a total and utter lie. I got this tail off a

>>40840738
"I can't!" He said with a proud cheery grin, plopping her down back on the table gently and patting her with one of the claws

"Because that was a total and utter lie. I got this tail off an Oni when I accidentally stopped my heart meditating and ended up in limbo. But that sounds a lot more insane, even though its the truth."

>>40840701

"The ace of spades."

The meaning of these words--because apparently someone found the time and the inclination to program an AI with both humor and a love for tortured metaphors--is made clear within a moment; because as soon as these words are spoken, a text message with a remarkably large attachment is sent to your phone. It is, to nobody's great surprise, listed as being from an unlisted number; and the subject line is, naturally, blank.

"When the task is completed, go to the Speakeasy cafe and order the Tofu Steak. Good luck, Frostflow.

And as though you didn't see it coming from a mile away, the line clicks and goes dead.

>>40840757

She just sorta...blinx at him, from the countertop.

"...So you...meditated so hard you...killed yourself?" she inquired at length, lilting her head.

...But she does seem to take it at face value.

"Why were you meditating so hard? And....who was it that got their tail jacked?"

She takes a half-hearted puff off her own, smaller pipe, but her eyes stay on Muscles.

>>40840315
"That, would be Frost." He answered with a small, yet concrete nod back at Gren. "No change in leadership. We did have a lapse of absence where she was away at college for a few months, but she's back, made it in time for the jail break, back in charge, and I finally got to meet her for once." His reply tailed off the end of the smile he had on he lips. "Almost hard to tell who we'd have in charge aside from her. Maybe Sam, he seems the next.. wisest? They're dating at least."

>>40840765
He shrugged.
" I think it happened mostly because of a dead friend of mine who's hanging around. In the spirit world this was a leather tail wrap covered in spikes, but it looked like this in the real world."

The giant was grinning bashfully as he muttered
"I know it sounds like I'm insane but my life is just very very strange."

>>40840762

And so ended their interaction in the manner that was to be expected. The enigma machine himself was gone and in his place was this large attachment on her phone. Wasting no time with useless words, she examined the attachment itself. Looking slightly inquisitive behind her armor of clothes and shades. Time to go to work.

>>40840768

She nodded, mouth open just slightly.

".....I'm not gonna bullshit you Mr. Muscles. This is a real shitty world, filled with real shitty people. There's no fuckin beauty anywhere. People live in die in graves they call cubicles, by the dozens. If that's what a sane...world is, I'd rather be fucked up. If that's sane, I don't wanna be sane."

She looks at him, quite intensely.

"...If your life is strange, then that means you
re doin it wrong - which really means you're doin it right...............I believe you."

She nods slowly, taking another puff.

Whatever she said - her expression would certainly indicate that she meant it.

>>40840777
He grinned at that comment, sitting back in his seat to smile down at the tiny creature

"Aw, thanks... Tiny fairy pony... I'm Sam, what's your name? And what... Are... You?"

>>40840779

She doesn't immediately respond. She takes some moments, to really examine this pony's face. The smile on it. The little creases near the eyes, that said if it was real or fake. The eyes themselves - at an unfathomable inner beauty that was a soul.

She looks away briefly, taking a short puff, looks back to him and - blows a series of miniature smoke rings toward his nose.

"You can call me Lil Brixie. Most people do. Or...no, that's not true. Most people call me....what were those...like, robo-pets, way back when like, robots were kinda REALLY retarded? ....PONY-Chi, that's it. Yeah. But I'd really prefer Lil Brixie. Or Lil Brix. Or Brix. Any of those ones man."

She smiles her strange, lopsided smile.

"And I'm a lil breezie. Never seen one before?"

>>40840790
That was the funny thing about this fellow, even when his lips weren't smiling his eyes where. He'd had that tired look of someone truly content in his eyes since he came in

"I can't say I have brix, but as you can probably guess I'm no equestrian native."

He took another long drink from his beer, leaning back as his tail swarmed around her, wrapping her up in its cool ethereal mass.

"So what's a 'ill breezie' doing in a place like club lucius? This is an operators pub, not really the nicest place."

>>40840801

"Does everybody have such pretty smiling eyes where you're from Mr. Muscles?" She asked, before a short hiccup - a swindle of smoke rising from her mouth.

At his question, she gave the bar a quick glance.

"You're right, it's not a very nice place. I'm more of a clubber myself. I had to go underground for a little while. You ever do somethin Mr. Muscles, that people wanted you to die for? Like, personally? Not like, cops and robbers, where it's like, their job to kill you. But like, a really personal desire to kill you?"

She raised an eyebrow - then snorted.

"I definitely haven't, I'm just messin. I make somethin of myself, however I can. People like knowin stuff, so I go out and learn stuff. But I was really here because I've never been here before. I gotta stay up to date on my pads, man. You know? And...for another reason," she added bitterly - but she shook her head, dismissing it.

"But I can look after myself. Pretty much."

She eyes him curiously.

"What are YOU doin here Mr. Muscles?"

>>40840814
" well to answe your second question... Yes. Quite regularly really considering I spent my teenage years as a swordsman cage fighter. I've had a few enemies. Most of them are dead now."

He picked up a discarded bottle cap from the counter and filled it With beer from his pint

"To answer the first. No, but I have very good oral hygiene. And that makes me glad to smile a plenty."

"To answer the third...? I'm a large, armed and muscular stallion in a club lucius special. What does that tell you?" He cooed playfully, nodding to the sheathed long sword on his back

>>40840821

She bats at the ghostly tail playfully.

"Well you're definitely not here to upset the authorities and disobey the law," She added knowingly. "Certainly not carrying a big fuckin stabber for any reason other than to appreciate a nice piece of steel, right man?" She bumps his elbow with her hoof in a bro-fist kind of way.

"...But why? Why....are you how you are? In cages. In a weird place. I don't get that. I've never heard of that before."

>>40840836
"I am who I am because that's who I am." He said, giving the worst answer of all time before shrugging gently

"I'm as much a worshipper of the blade as I am a bladesman, I carry my sword with me now not to use it. But because I'm not complete without it. Not to sound terribly cruel, but though im-- well I like to think I'm a friendly guy-- there's no where that I feel more alive, nowhere where things make as much sense than when I'm facing down one guy, two, three it doesn't matter. Knowing its me or them. I fight with and for honor, but killing is simply what I am best at in this life and I embrace it. Not because I enjoy hurting people, I don't. I enjoy contests of skill, refining myself I'm form, mind and skill. I fight to improve myself. And I improve myself so I can go home, and prove that I'm worthy of the title of champion without my fathers meddling and cheating. I fight with honor so as to reclaim the honor he stole from me..." He sipped from his beer

"Sorry, I'm a bit of a rambler."

>>40840846

She listens intently to his story. She doesn't distract herself with the fuckin dope-ass tail, his OTHER tale having her complete attention. Soon as story mode started - boom, rapt attention.

As he finished, he looked at some spot nearby, at nothing. Nodded slowly, as though weighing some important fact, or valuing an important decision.

....And quite abruptly, started bawling her wee eyes out.

>>40840860
...
He stared at her incredulously, brows furrowed and lips pursed ax he gently reached forward and prodded her

"You okay?"

>>40840868

She sniffs, wipes at her face.

"It's nothin. I just - it's nothing. It's just that's super great, that you like, know that, about yourself. Don't like, forget that. You know the most important thing ever. I won't insult you either. And say you're just lucky. Because it's a lot of.....stuff. Like, not even work. It's.... I don't know.......I had....I was gonna say something - but I lost it."

She wipes her eyes again - and takes a hurried puff.

"I'm fine..it's whatever."

The tears do seem to get under control.

......Ooooooooookay then.

>>40840774
Oooh boy. Well, this is about as much of a surprise as him hanging up--give or take a few points, given the sheer audacity of the target. Of course you were expecting something big from the Illumineighti, particularly since they have what is not only a functioning AI, but one that's damn omniscient at that. It would have been insulting if they'd told you to go down the street and knock over a gas station; but maybe that would have been preferable to the target presented before you.

Greetings, Qualified Professionals!
Target is the financial recording server of the Lonestar Military Group, believed to be located in the Hypercluster Verge at lot Three-Six-Nine. Upon retrieving a complete record of the data held within, a sum of Fifty-thousand credits will be paid out to each member of the responsible party, in addition to sponsorship for an information brokerage venture regarding any insensitive data that is recovered on-site. It is of vital importance that the server not be remote-edited; silence is advised, caution is mandatory.

Sincerely,
ORACLE

Enclosed within the document are a number of image files: blueprints, by the looks of it, as well as surveillance photos--some of which were taken from inside the target. And that's note all, as fate would have it: along with the image files are three whole folders, labeled--simplistically enough--EoS, EoC, and AoC. They seem to be writeups for a number of targets around town: one for a computer consulting office in midtown, one for a bunker somewhere on the edge of the pit, and one for an innocuous security bunker somewhere up in Matteroch. They're set-up jobs, to use the colloquialism--tasks designed to weaken the central target before you go in for the kill.

You've been set up for one hell of a job--one that could be your stepping stone into the world above the world, and might very well be the last nail in Lonestar's coffin if you nail them on a shady transfer.

Will you be ready?

>>40840884
>>40840884
He laughs heartily at her overblow reaction. Gently pushing her with the tip of a hoof, the swordsman teased.

"Never heard someone so supportive of me being a bladesman. I mean I'm also a sushi chef, it's not the *only* thing I do."

>>40840968

She took a few more hurried puffs, clearly trying to put it past her.

"It's not...what you do, it's just - that you KNOW what you are. I wish I knew what that was like. Everything feels like...everything is easier. When you know that. That's like the most important thing that you should know. And you know it. Most people don't know it. People like me I guess. Man..."

She shook her head, as though shaking out strange demons.

"Sorry - you're a decent guy. I just get, super selfish sometimes. Forget that happened."

>>40839711
>Gritting her teeth as the blue giant smashed his hoof against her shoulder with enough strength to make her visibly tumble under the weight of the blow, Carnage grit her teeth and somehow seemed to grow ever so angrier with the accusations Umi was laying out against her. Shaking her head slowly for a few long seconds, the fur on Carnage's back bristled as she swung her hoof wide smacked Umi in the side of the head. If ever Umi had admired her efficiency in battle, it was only now that he was actually conversing with her on a one on one basis that he could finally appreciate the fine elegance with which she fought. Her blows were like a dancer's her every dodge and faint equal to a ballerina's in the sense that it was all done with both grace and strength soaked into them. By comparison, Umi's own style was rough and jagged like a street brawler's instinctive method honed over a hundred alleyway fights and bar brawls.

And why shouldn't I treat you the way I do?!

I treat you with the same respect every other member of this team receives.

>Spreading her fine feathered wings wide, Carnage rose into the airs into Umi to deliver a striking uppercut kick directly into the stallion's jaw. When he would turn to adress her once more, Umi would find Carnage standing atop a small rise, snorting loudly and stamping down at the ground beneath with her foreleg.

The problem is that this level of professional relationship does not satisfy you.

What you want is something more, something I am not willing to give to the likes of a stallion who thinks so little of me as to think he could win my favor with something as paltry as dinner.

>>40841112
She was a ballet dancer, combining grace, speed, and strength. He was, well, more akin to a wrecking ball. A giant who had honed his craft against other giants in the field, and in pits. He had been in fights, since he left his home, as well, but the bulk of his learning had been completed before then. He noted her rising anger. Her smack and her kick seemed to not even phase the stallion, his head moving, slightly, from the force of her blows. He knew she could outlast him, wear him down, and pick him off. He couldn't allow her space to dart and dodge away from him.

Damn it. Why did he even care about this? She seemed like a female Unagi at times, so why didn't he want to rip her apart? And then he started to understand. The stallion deadpanned, one hoof kicking at the ground. He tried to communicate to her, his accent strong, but he was learning. At least he didn't seem like a complete fool anymore.

A misunderstanding...

His tail flicked in irritation, not at her, but at himself.

I think you believe I want something more. I don't want that level of relationship yet. Hell, in the time it would take for us to get there, odds are one or both of us would be in the ground. Things of that magnitude aren't made over a plate of food and a glass of wine.

He charged her, closing the gap with speed alarming for somepony his size. She had the elevation, but, as with most things he did, Umi was more than willing to use brute force to change that.

I wanted to befriend you. Ponies like you are revered for your skill. You and Sam are the closest I've found to familiarity here. Of course I wanted to get to know you better. Sam was easy enough, but you...

He threw a flurry of punches towards where she was, trying to drive her from the high ground, and maybe catch her off guard.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not well read in this society, so when I read that asking somepony to dinner is a good way to do that, I figured I'd do so.

An irritated snort left him. Why did things seem to get more complicated, the more advanced the society became.

I'd be happy to just have a drink with you, and find out more. Do you really think I would have gone half way around the world, or let you maul me, if I didn't at least have a passing interest in befriending you?

Sure he knew that friendship could evolve into something more, but in Fool's Folly, that took years. It all had to start somewhere though, and if they never became more then friends, well, a friend is a fine thing to have, is it not? He jerked his head in the direction of the Old Man, for a moment, as if to note his inclusion into the conversation topic.

He had an idea that could help both of us, and make us both more effective, but I don't know if it will even work, if we can't get along for more than fifteen seconds.

The bulwark. Umi had not abandoned the notion of becoming a symbiotic war machine, with Carnage. She was deadly with her weapons, and he could take a plethora of damage. He could carry her into battle, maneuver them into the best spots, and in return, he'd have somepony who could watch his back, and deal with armored enemies, before they got within range of his ax. He briefly considered how to express that plan to her, but soon gave up, in favor of waiting for her response.

>>40840993
Test

>>40840993
Sam simply grinnned down at her, softly patting the tiny creature with a hoof that could easily crush her entire form as he quietly observed.


"You know, I think we all find where we belong eventually. But the harder you think about finding it, the easier it is to miss it when you do."

>>40842088

She nods, noncommitally. Hearing the same mantra she religiously told herself coming out of someone else's mouth seemed strange. At least, from someone who already knew the answer to that particular question. She sighs, and turns two tiny blood shot eyes to the goodly stranger. A rarer person these days.

Not many had patience for addled drug addicts....

".....Mr Muscles...I think I like you. Do you, like, wanna be friends? Here -" She intoned earnestly, lifting her hoof to her face, a small screen folding out of it.An adorable, tiny screen.

>>40840937

He who dares wins. No pain no gain. High risk, high reward. Frost was full of these motivational little mantras. She had drilled them into her mind over and over. It would not be the first time she had been daring, or been put through a lot of pain. It would not be the first risk she took in this venture but this one felt different all the same. She reviewed the data in question, read through the message, took in as much as she could and than simply slid her phone back into her jacket pocket with a smile. She sat there a tad bit longer, looking to the murky sky's of this futuristic shit hole. The air tasted almost as sweet as when she died.

Slowly she rose back up to her feet and wiped herself clean of any grime and dust she might have attracted. What more was there to say? Nothing. Talk was cheap. Came dime a dozen. It would ruin the moment forever in her mind. She walked down the ally and made her way, first, to the concourse. Her beloved holding. Taking a gander at the many renovations, watching it mid transformation between out of the way bum drop to a burgeoning community. This was the start. The beginning. This deal was not the end, but in a way it was yet another beginning for her. It was a chance. A chance to ascend into something more than a crook and a terrorist. Something she had wanted walking into the Lucian so very long.

Now was her chance to become something more. Starting with the final death of Lonestar. Put to an end by the sad, pretty little white pony once and for all. A sacrifice to something greater than even they could ever be. Or so she could dream at least. But maybe she would not be dreaming for much longer? Either way, walking into her office, pulling her natural leg across walls still worn. Either way, She was ready. Or at the very least she would be. A good enough excuse to keep smiling.

>>40839888
"Mrmf... bit of a problem there. If ya don't know dragons that well, I'd be hesitant to let you work on me when it really mattered. Anatomical differences and all. And I'm doubly hesitant to just let ya cut me open for the knowledge's sake... although I do get why."

He looks away and shakes his head. "...I think I might be willin' to let you take a closer look, but not with knives involved. Dunno how much good that'd do. Or when the hell I'd find the time."

June 15, 39-6A
"Hey...hey, Mami. You up?"

It is your third birthday. You know so because your parents are very proud of you: for some reason they were worried you'd have trouble with your numbers, but you can count your age and walk and even fly on your own. You know the time on the sundial, too: right now, it's three after the nine. You don't remember ever staying up this late before; but now for the first time in your life you can see all the stars in the night sky, underneath the big round moon; and you can hear the screech-birds in the distance, and the steady trotting of the night guards as they patrol the village walls. You think you'd like to be a night guard one day, if this is what they get to see all the time.

"Pssst. Hey!"

Your cousin, Nagi, is six years old. You know that because he helped you count his age earlier today, right after you finished doing yours. His family came to visit for your birthday, even though they live far away in the forest. You can't remember for sure, but you think his dad--that is to say, your uncle Tommy--is the chief of the Koob-la-whatsit tribe. Uncle Tommy is kind of funny-looking and a little mean sometimes, but you know he loves Nagi very much--and you too, if he came all the way out here to see you!

"PSSSST. MAMI."

You're the only colt in the Blue-Flower-Forest tribe. Mister Kusimi has two fillies about your age, and old Widow Kari has a daughter a few years older than you; but none of them are really fun to play with. Cousin Nagi and his sister Lyla are your best friends. And right now, as you stay curled up inside the colts' hut near the center of the village, Nagi seems determined not to let you sleep.

"Come on, I know you're awake. Let's sneak out!"

>>40842312
Three. Three years old, and growing fast! What did a young colt need to grow? Sleep. What was Umi being denied, right now? That! The young colt looked to the sun dial, blinking several times, to clear his vision, and actually see what time it was. Three after nine? He had never been up this late. But then again, Nagi was three years older. A whole life older then little 'Mami'. That made him the wise, older kid in the pegasus colt's life, and ascended him to near idol status. He blinked again, before looking to his cousin, and tilting his head.

"Sneak out? I don't know, Nagi...we're not appose to go out after dark, remember? Mom and dad said so..."

Even as he said that, he was standing up, ready to follow his cousin. Parents may have power, but few held a position of command over Umi, quite like the cousin he idolized. Perhaps in time, that would change, as three years difference became less and less of a gap, but for now, it was more than enough to make the little colt follow the slightly older one around.

"Where are we going?" He asked, looking up at the sky, as he waited. It was so pretty. He smiled a little, feeling like he never wanted to lose sight of those twinkling lights above him. They made him feel free, alive. The little pony simply felt energized by the freedom the sky above offered.

>>40842313
"There's, uh...an apple tree, over the wall. I wanna climb it."

In a flurry of shifting hay, cousin Nagi rises to his hooves and shakes himself from side to side, dislodging innumerable crumpled-up straws. Cousin Nagi, for reasons you can never quite fathom, loves to halfway bury himself in his bed when he goes to sleep. It always makes you itchy when you try to do it; so I guess he just has thicker fur than you. Either way he's clean now, and stretching out his forelegs with a barely-restrained yawn. Then, as he hums a snatch of some dimly-remembered drum music, he creeps towards the front door and pokes his head out. He looks left and right, and after a moment waves for you to follow him.

"Oh, and we gotta get Layla."

>>40842518
"An apple tree, Nagi?" Umi asked, giving his little form a quick shake, and a flick of his wings, to discard any extra bits of hay that were clinging to his coat. He wished he could burrow into the bed like his cousin. It seemed warmer then laying atop it all. If only his coat was a little thicker. Oh well. Umi's ears perked at the idea of getting Layla, as well. Awesome! Both of his closest friends! He smiled, eagerly following the older colt.

He knew he'd be helpful on their mission for the apple tree, as well. Afterall, wings were a great way to get to the apples, and wings were in short supply in Fool's Folly Woods. He had heard his parents talking once. They were worried he wouldn't be as tall or strong as the others, but he was okay with that. Wings meant he could just fly, and be taller then them all!

>>40842262
"Oh, I understand, don't worry," she responds, dismissing his worries with a wave of her hoof. "In case I wasn't clear, I wouldn't be cutting you up just to cut you up. I'd wait until something serious happened, where you'd need to be cut open anyway. I'm not just going to flay you willy-nilly," she says with a bit of a giggle. "But yes. I know I know little about dragons. I'd be running off of what I know of Griffins and reptiles, as well as some common sense and medical knowledge. But, as I said, finding an actual professional that knows how to treat you may be difficult otherwise. ...I'm not even sure if there is anyone to be frank, aside from other dragons. As I said, there was hardly anything to research, even in college."

"Anyhow. Yes, yes, I'd love to just examine you one day. I'm sure I could jot down some basic skeletal, muscular, and dermal information from just the outside. There's plenty I could learn."

"But! What I said earlier was true! Lunacy is expecting me soon. Ish. I think I should get to him, since it's fairly important," she says, digging in her bags. "So you can have this!"

Out of her bags, she pulls a small rectangular piece of paper. It looks like a budget business card; it's normal printer paper with her alias, her title, and a phone number. It's likely too small for Prometheus to grab easily, but the print is big enough to read. "If you ever need me, give me a call. You can come to me, or I can come to you. Tell your colleagues, too, if they ever need me."

Last edited at Thu, Apr 2nd, 2015 15:07

>>40842773
For the duration of your sortie through the village, Nagi's flank and tail keep bobbing to some invisible beat. He doesn't have his cutie mark yet, but he's always trying out new things--fishing one day, lumberjacking the next, and all manner of trade-craft between then and now. Whatever he gets his cutie mark in, it probably won't be sneaking: he sounds like a herd of drunken bison, and it is only due to the noisome snoring of the stallions that you are not discovered within two shakes. Through some miraculous feat of fortune, you arrive at the fillies' shack within a minute, and Nagi raps four times on the wall. A moment later Layla appears there, significantly smaller than her bother--that is to say, about your height. With her orange mane and her bright blue coat, she'll have quite the job of sneaking past anyone at all; but she does not seem to have taken this into consideration.

"Ugh. What were you guys waiting for?"

Layla is five, and something of a troublemaker. Her parents have been teaching her to be an herbalist, as befits a mare; but you know, for a fact, that she very much wants to become a warrior in the tournaments. Fillies aren't allowed to study such things, but that hasn't stopped her from spending every moment she can trying to get one of the stallions to take her as their squire.

"Come on, those apples aren't gonna pick themselves!"

Without a seconds' hesitation she begins springing gaily towards the village wall, a decidedly uncomfortable-looking flutter in her walk. You haven't any idea how she manages to do all that bouncing without breaking something.

>>40842853
Umi followed, looking around, as they went. If they got caught, that would be the end of their adventure, before it even started. His ears laid back, as he heard the amount of noise Nagi was making, the young colt whispering softly. "Nagi...we're being way to loud. The grown ups are going to hear us." He hurried along, next to his cousin, hooves taking a couple extra steps for each of the taller colt's.

As they arrived at the Fillies' shack, Umi smiled a little. He liked Layla. She wasn't like the other fillies. She was fun! She didn't want to be boring and learn medical work or herbology. She wanted to be a warrior, like he did! He waited for her to join them, before they set off again. Gods...was he as loud as them? How did Layla even move like that? He had wings and he couldn't even bounce around in the same way!

>>40842911
Good questions. But you'll have to wait to answer them another time; because soon you find yourself at the portcullis that serves as the village gate. Your small frame easily fits through it; and with some wiggling, Layla and Nagi pop through it behind you. Then, in the space of a moment, you have left the light of the village behind you; and now you are beholden to the fearful darkness of Fool's Folly as it stands untamed. It is a wild and secretive place; and no more than ten feet away from the village walls, the forests are overgrown and thick with all manner of things that crawl and screech.

"Cummon, slowpokes! It's this way!"

Layla is undeterred, and she scampers down the trail towards the apple tree with only a brief moment's pause. Nagi follows after her, turning his head and motioning for you to follow.

"Cummon Mami, it's okay!"

Tall Tales paced anxiously in the bar.
[Lunacy, can we talk? Meet me at the bar. Super important!]
This was the third time he'd texted Lunacy. He didn't want to sound clingy, but fuck it he was gonna sound clingy.
This couldn't wait until next mission.

>>40843019
"Sweet fucking luna you sound clingy."

Oh, hey, there he was. If Tall had seen him pre-joint op, he'd notice that Lunacy looks a helluva lot less in pain at the moment - and a fair bit more whole, to boot. His legs were actually legs!

"Y'caught me during augment shopping. What do you want?"

>>40842140
"Of course I want to be friends Lil' Bixxie." He said, grinning happily before she folded the screen from her hand. The stallion leaned in, confused, his ears flopping down against his head as it cocked to the side and his tail give a curious wiggle.

"What's this...?"

He said quietly, leaning in to get a better look.

>>40843011
Umi scampered through the exit, looking about, as Layla and Nagi joined him. He looked to the woods, swallowing slightly, at the sight. It was a lot scarier at night. His ears perked, the colt looking towards the trees, shivering, slightly. They should turn back. No. He drew himself up to his full, diminutive, height, setting off after Nagi and Layla. He was a son of the Blue Flower Forest Tribe. The ponies of that village were not scared of a little dark, or the sounds of whatever was out there. He nodded, mostly to encourage himself, as he hurried after the two older ponies. He could see the tree already, and was more than eager to get to it, and flitter up to the fruits that hung from the branches.

"Wait up!" He called after them. Dang it...someday he'd have longer legs, and be able to keep up. Stupid being young.

>>40843029
"I need to show you something. But I don't know how to show you, so I'm gonna start by telling you. Are we alone?"

>>40843089
"I guess, unless someone's squatting downstairs?" he says with a shrug, looking about.

It's pretty clear he's not giving much weight to your ideas.

>>40843097
"Okay. Fuck it. Big guns. I'm gonna regret this later."
GREEN FLASH!

...
...
...
Holy shit there's two Lunacys.

>>40843101
...

Lunacy blinks for a few moments, before the realization hits him. He still doesn't seem all that fussed.

"Oooh. You're a changeling."

"Just don't go around pretending you're me or I'll fucking end you."

>>40843126
"I can't change back."
Tall Lunacy grins and awkward, lopsided grin.
"So... wanna mess with Doc or something?"

>>40843128
"I was thinking more dying you red and spraypainting 'CHANGELING' on your side"

Lunacy can't help himself from chuckling grinning like a madpony.

"But I could see how that could get... awkward when we actually needed to do something."

>>40843132
"Yeah. Maybe I could just pick up some EZ-Dye. But beside that, any requests as long as you have a perfect body double? Well, almost perfect. These augs don't function."

>>40843149
"Have I mentioned 'don't pretend you're me or I'll end you'? 'Cuz, y'know, that's important."

"I mean either you've been Tall forever and you need it to be bashed into your thick skull not to do that or you've killed and replaced Tall and you're really good at acting like him, so you'd actually be able to pull it off if you tried."

"Just, y'know, as a general warning."

>>40843032

"[/b] Huh? Oh, it's just, like a tablet. Sorta. I mean it doesn't work half the time...but it....it just helps me keep track of stuff.... [/b]"

She trails off. She twists her mouth, as though wondering something - like maybe he was avoiding giving out his information...

'I get it. It's okay....but hey, maybe it's better not sharing that."

She turns to him suddenly.

"...I don't. ..feel right, asking you this. You seem like a kind guy. Deserve a little more respect than this. ..but. ..do you think you could loan a stranger some money? I can...pay you back. maybe not with, like, money, but I have this idea. Like, an instant response medic or something. You look like you're in danger often - and, I have a medi-Aug so I know all theprocedures and stuff. So maybe you could use. ...maybe make use of that...service. ... "

She trails off, looking down at the bartop, suddenly quite embarrassed she thought that may have ever been appropriate to ask.

>>40843158
"I get it, I get it. Don't pretend to be you unless you tell me to."

>>40843060
It's not a long walk, fortunately. Maybe five minutes, even with your tiny little legs. Your cousins wait up for you every few steps; and so you traverse the trail in leaps and bounds, until at last you come to the base of the old apple tree. You've seen it during your occasional forays into the forest--all of which were, of course, made in the company of your parents, or even the warrior company; but it is only now in the dull moonlight that you can truly appreciate its beauty. Underneath the gentle silver, its deep brown wood is painted a nigh-angelic shade; and if you strain your eyes, you can just make out the miliky-white apples at the top.

"Alright...let's...let's do it."

As Nagi begins slowly picking his way up its thick and sparsely-spaced branches, Layla bumps your flank with hers and flashes a goofy little grin.

"Race ya?"

>>40843251
Umi hated his legs, at that time. He wanted to be able to keep up with his cousins, not lag behind them time after time, and force them to wait up. Someday that would end though. He smiled a little at the thought. He'd be tall. Maybe not as tall as the others, but enough to keep up! And ponies would see him and Nagi, and maybe Layla walk by, and know that they were the best warriors in Fool's Folly! He stopped at the base of the tree, looking up, with his muzzle agape. It was giant! He watched Nagi start his way up, flaring his wings to follow, before Layla bumped his flank. He looked over at her, smiling softly, and pinning them back to his side. With an eager nod, he crouched.

"You're on! Three...two...one...go!" And with that, the young colt was off, scrabbling up the wide trunk of the tree. Milky white apples. An older, wiser Umi might have thought them odd, but he was young, and their color just made him more curious about what they tasted like!

>>40843275
"Seeya at the top, slowpoke!"

Like a bolt of blue fire, Layla races up the tree, the branches sagging and bouncing beneath her hooves. She thunders past Nagi; who, with a small and squeaky whinny, tumbles out of the tree and lands in the brush at its base. She thunders past you with grace entirely unfitting of an earth filly; and the last you see of her is her tail as she whips around the tree trunk and slips out of sight.

"Already there~!"

The next you see of her is some two minutes later, when you finally reach the top of the tree. There she is, perched like a guardian angel between two branches: with her hoof outstretched to you she cracks a grin--which doubles when she hears the huffing and puffing of Cousin Nagi as he climbs up behind you. Soon the three of you are joined, there in the treetops, with only the full moon and the night sky to keep you company.

>>40843295
Umi blinked, as she zipped past. He was never not surprised by her speed. She'd be an amazing warrior, if they let her have a chance. The young colt smiled, shimmying up the tree, after taking a moment to look down, and make sure Nagi was okay. Once he saw the older colt scaling the tree after him, he continued on his way. Upon being offered a hoof, Umi took it, pulling himself up beside her. "I would have beat you, if I flew." He challenged, sticking his tongue out. He helped her pull Nagi up the rest of the way, before looking up at the sky, with a sense of wonder. "Wow..."

The sky, the moon, the stars. He'd have to stay up late more often! He looked to the others, before reaching for one of the apples, and tugging on it, lightly. He didn't want to unbalance himself, or the others, by bouncing the branch they were on.

>>40843300
In the darkness of your hooves, you can see the apple more clearly: a deep and succulent crimson, more beautiful than any sunrise or ruby. You can smell it through its unbroken skin: sweet, earthy, and still carrying the essence of the tree. With a few deft motions, Nagi and Layla both take one for themselves; and in contemplative silence, while away the sweet and easy night.

______________________________________________

You are turning five years old today. You know that because you can count all the way to a hundred now. Your cousin Nagi is eight, and your cousin Layla is seven; and the three of you are, for the first time in your lives, being allowed out of the village on your own. As a colt within one or two years of earning your cutie mark, you're being allowed into the wilderness unsupervised, on one condition: no matter what you do, you must not cross over the white-mane river.

"Hey, nice ax, Umi!"

Cousin Layla is the first one to greet you out of the gate. She is, of course, complimenting your choice in weapon: as your fifth birthday warrants, you've been given a tiny woodsman's hatchet and a backpack in which to store your gatherings. Though it might not have been the sharpest thing in the hut--you personally thought the machete was better--there was really only one choice for you. After all: your cousin Nagi chose a hatchet on his fifth birthday, so clearly it was the best thing available.

"Nagi's already set out looking for berries. Think we can catch him?"

>Blackjack lays on his sleeping mat, tossing a ball he found in one of the compartments of his VTOL while listening to his favorite channel on his AMind. The ball made a light bouncing sound as it hit the to of the VTOL. He had found it when he took up residence in the flying machine. It was curious why such a thing would be here. Maybe it was someone's old stress ball. It could have belonged to someone who got nerves before flying. Either way, this red, rubbery, spherical ball was his now. He bounces it off the ceiling of the VTOL, thinking about recent events. Lonestar was down for the count, although he had no doubt that it would find some way to survive bankruptcy. The ones in charge were still fuckin' loaded, and if what he heard was correct, so is this new client. one thing is for certain, with the big fish gone, the smaller ones are coming for the feast left behind. All the players are going to be out now. Blackjack sighs and thinks of all the people in his past, all who would like to see him either dead or doing their dirty work. Still, he remains calm. Even if he messed with a nuke, his tracks were well hidden. The walls aren't closing in, but they aren't moving away any time soon, either. He continues to ounce the red ball against the top of his VTOL, silently thinking while he listens to some classic rock.

>>40843378
Umi smiled, munching away at his apple with the other two, as he looked up at the sky. This was nice. Well, it was much more, but he didn't quite have the vocabulary to properly describe it. In time though, all in time...

____________________________________________

Five. He was five now! And he had been given his weapon! Unagi had chosen an ax, therefore, the ax was the best. It had to be. Unagi wouldn't pick anything that wasn't cool. Umi nodded, his logic sound, in his head. Looking up, as he heard his voice, he smiled. Layla was already there! He liked her, quite a bit. Not as much as Nagi, but she was a close second! He nodded, as she explained where the eldest in their trio had gone, and nodded. "I bet we can!"

He set out with Layla, following the mare through the woods, by the village. No further then the white mane river though. He would remember that one. The last thing he wanted was to lose the permissions he had just gained. The weight of the little ax on his back was odd, and new, but Umi knew that, in time, he could get used to it, and learn to treat it like a part of his own body.

Lil Brixie stared at her wall.

Well, it wasn't her wall. It was the wall of a friends house. Sort of. Freewheel was his name. At least she thought it was. Maybe it was Freewhisper?

It didn't matter. It was a place to stay for a couple days. Before she'd have to move again. Stay one step ahead, as long as she could. There was no other choice. If they caught her, that was it - an irrelevant life, snuffed out, just like that.

In her lap, a comparatively gigantic device laid. An Instant Armor modification - but it was, well, different in a few ways. Firstly, it was quite obviously broken. It would be a simple repair, but it was paying for that repair, or those new components, that was a problem. The second thing - is that it was painted. Hand painted, with simple acrylics. A cream base-coat, with the Caduceus in the center being wielded by an angel pony, warding away the grim-reaper, with a short sentence stenciled below it that read, 'From cold hands the angel keeps me'

Beside her, the paint palette. A modified ear-swab as a brush. Still wet - but drying slowly.

Guitar Sound (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3r6pBqmanH4) plays in her ears, as she held it, staring off at nothing, clearly high. She cradled the augment like a child. A very, very large child, but a child all the same. Almost forlornly.

Her eyes slowly find their way to it in her lap - and then the little pile of her addiction, resting on a napkin not far away.

A single, fat tear rolled down her cheek.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Junkies rarely kept regular schedules. If sudden errands just HAD to be run, either from utter, mindless spontaneity or a sudden moment of clarity that something needed to get done, it didn't matter. Their schedules were not usually...regular.

Which is How Brixie found herself in front of the local clinic, at 2 in the morning. The automatic doors opened (thankfully) for her 6 inch frame, as the augmented pony flittered inside on her mechanical wings. Her eyes bloodshot (but only just), and a slight quiver to her movements.

With great, hesitation, she approached the reception desk, with her husky, distinctly feminine voice.

"Uh - hey. Do you guys - um. Take...walk-ins?"

>>40843166
The mans only response is to gain a soft grin as he pulled his wallet from inside his coat.

"How much you need? I'll give you my phone number so you can get int contact and maybe pay me back sometime but for now? How much?"

>>40843504

She's actually floored.

"....."

She scratches her ear.

"...Twenty five?"

She swallowed.

"........Thousand?"

>>40843494
Doctors here rarely kept regular schedules. If sudden jobs just HAD to be done, either by consequence utter, mindless stupidity of a soon-to-be patient or a sudden moment of clarity that a large injury won't fix itself, it didn't matter. Although schedules at a hospital such as this did exist, and stuff did indeed get done on time, schedules for the typical employee are not regular by any means.

Much like the employees Brixie would see this evening. Or perhaps it was morning for others. Either way, the sun isn't up, it's cold, and there's a certain dead air to the hospital -- the fluorescent lights are dim and flickering, the AC doesn't heat up the building at all, and any and all decorations or furnishing are about as well-kept as a toddler's toybox. The only thing that doesn't look so dreary or dull is the purple unicorn at the front desk.

Said unicorn is, actually, quite awake; no signs of fatigue are displayed on her face. She calmly writes on a sheet of paper until her attention is grabbed by the dull, monotonous twang of the bell ringing above the door upon Brixie's entrance. Her ears flick and her eyebrows raise, at first, but she waits for her to finish speaking until she responds.

"Walk-ins?" she says, setting her quill down and looking up. "Right now, only the emergency room is open for use. So, technically, yes, we do," she deadpans, sliding her papers to the side.

"How can I help you?"

>>40843506

"...I dunno...Like - can I talk to, a doctor? Or someone.....LIKE a doctor?"

She rubs her foreleg with her hoof.

"I mean, I'm not like, gonna die or anything. Well, I mean, I AM, but not, like, right away. It's not.....Shit. What's the word - URGENT. No - LIFE THREATENING. Yeah. It's not - life threatening. Well, not yet. I think."

A little rambler, this one.

"....I just have some...questions about stuff. Medical stuff. I don't really...have a doctor or, or anything -"

>>40843507
The unicorn gives Brixie a flat look. "It matters not if it's life threatening; if you need medical assistance, you've come to the right place. There is a small issue, however."

She starts digging through some files, and after a moment, she pulls out a small piece of paper. "Use of the emergency room mandates a fee. A small fee, but a fee, nonetheless," she states, sliding the paper over the desk.

"If you have any questions, I'm the one to talk to. There are only two people on shift tonight, and one of them is me. The other is on break. An extended break, might I add."

>>40843508

"Oh shit," she blurts immediately at the mention of the fee.

Her brow furrows in consternation. Why hadn't she even thought of that? Nothing was free. ESPECIALLY the medical shit, as she had unfortunately already been grossly made aware of.

"...Do you guys take, like, e-checks?"

That was gonna be one bouncy check if they did.

>>40843509
"We do not take e-checks. There've been far too many bounces," she sighs, shaking her head.

With that, she turns away to search through some more files. Soon, she brings out a small folder, glancing at the tab before setting it to the side.

Right after, she turns back to the druggie in front of her with a straight face. "We only take cash or credit. Or, in some cases, we take... Collateral, let's call it," she says, raising an eyebrow. "Provided it's valuable enough."

>>40843510

Cash? Literally three bits. Enough for a snack machine (though in her case, was breakfast lunch and dinner, if she rationed it right). Collateral? She briefly recalled the number of broken Instant Armor augs she scavenged - but those...while broken, were both potential, and.....a symbol. They might actually help her with her problem, if only she could fix them.

And...credit.

...The implicit debt implied made her heart stop. Debt. Debt debt debt. So much debt. So great it was that the idea of adding a little bit more was both horrifying and completely miniscule in the face of the already ponderous amount she had.

...And she sincerely doubted this person was about to accept drugs as collateral.

She glanced at the door behind the receptionist. A part of her, the part of her that kept her alive, urged her to just walk away - and then try and sneak in. But that part of her was strangely...weak, tonight. In truth, that's why she was even here. Weakness. Desperately grasping at straws.

She sighed.

"...Credit is fine. I guess."

She picked up one end of the pen (for two pick up the entire thing was a little more effort than she cared to expend), and filled in the necessary information, omitting as much as she could get away with.

>>40843511
"...Huh."

The unicorn seems a little surprised as Brixie scribbles away on the paperwork. "You know, usually, when ponies come in at two in the morning and I ask for collateral, they usually give me the strangest things," she says, letting out a little huff as she takes the papers back. "Drugs, contraband, toys, pictures, organs... Hell, someone even gave me a worn out violin one day," she chuckles, sliding the papers away. "I'm a little disappointed, since this is usually the spice of my night, but I suppose I can't complain."

Once everything is in order, she stands up off of her chair. "Go down that hall, take a right, and sit on that chair. I'll be right with you, miss."

>>40843512

She oddly, and abruptly, makes immediate eye-contact with her.

"Hold onto that violin forever."

A moment of awkward silence.

"...That person paid their collateral with their dreams."

And with that....incredibly cryptic comment, she turned, and flew down the hallway indicated.

Her mind was consumed with that violin. The thought that perhaps it had been stolen for the express purpose of giving it away did not don on her - only a simple, fantasy, tragic idea of a musician, being forced to choose between his love and his life.

It made her little heart ache.

Though she was a strange little pony indeed.

>>40843513
"Oh, I already got new strings for it. I never plan on letting it go," she says, opening the door and trotting inside the ER. "I used to play, in my younger years. It's a passion I've long since forgotten, until recent. And believe me when I say I know. I've paid more than my share of dreams to get where I am today," she says unceremoniously, looking around at the third-world ER. "Whoop-de-fuckin'-doo, yeah?"

After a sigh, she shakes her head. "Good afternoon, anyhow. Just call me Doc, for now," she mutters, trotting over to one of the desks. "While I get my stuff together, would you mind telling me who you are and what you're here for? That way, I can, you know, actually do my job."

>>40843514

She cared about the violin.

For a moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

To her question, she pondered it as she settled her miniature frame down on the bed. It seemed monstrous beneath her miniscule six inch frame.

"You can call me Lil Brixie. Or...Brixie, if you want. And...I kinda...I'm not sure exactly what I'm here for."

Well THAT wasn't a good sign.

She glanced up, and makes eye contact again - her eyes still slightly bloodshot.

"So...I have...a lot of, uhm, augments. And stuff.

-

But they don't work anymore. They uh. Got...broken? All at once? she added ominously. She didn't care to explain that, apparently. "...I was just, umh, curious if you could, maybe, uhm, take a look at them, and tell me if they're gonna, um, kill me soon, if I dont get them repaired. I mean, I wanna repair them, but, I can't afford to - right now. But I just wanna know, if I have, like, less time to deal with it."

>>40843515
Well then. This patient is undeniably an addict of some sort, has the gall to show up at two A.M., is made of many augments Doc can't even repair or investigate thoroughly, and to top it all off, is of an entirely different species she reviewed once, eight or ten years ago.

She had her work cut out for her.

"Hmm. I can certainly help with that," she says, grabbing a small mirror and a stand with various devices. "It'd be great if you could tell me any drugs you are currently taking, prescription or otherwise. Don't worry, darling, I'm not going to rat on you about anything; that's not my job, and I'd rather get this over with than deal with the cops. Discord knows they've got plenty to dig up on me," she adds, trotting over to take a closer look. "Don't be shy. Tell me everything I need to know, and I'll see if I can't help. How old are these augments? Why did they break? Any other info I should know?"

Last edited at Fri, Apr 3rd, 2015 00:41

>>40843516

There's obviously some hesitation - though the comment about Docs own possible criminal record seemed to have been missed. For now.

The fact she'd bothered to look after that violin - that she PLAYED a violin - for a reason only Brixie knew, that just....seemed so god damn righteous. How could someone like that lie to her, that she actually WOULD rat her out for drug use....or criminal activity.

"...I believe you."

So...off to say something REALLY reckless, then.

"..I uh, I don't...remember, everything. That I use, I mean. I use a lot, just, not a lot, all the time. Crack. Like, usually that. It's easier. Heroin is hard. I almost died. It's like, really expensive to get needles that are small enough. Tried to do it with a normal one, with just a small amount, didn't work. I don't do heroin anymore. But crack mostly. Some other stuff. Like, just the other day I tried this, cigarette thing. With weed in it. I kinda liked it."

In a moment of clarity, she caught her ramble, and stopped it.

"And they all broke at the same time because, like, I got hit with one of those, like, zappy bat...baton things. That really sucked. I was helping a friend sell some. I really needed the money. I still - anyway, uh, yeah, so I helped him sell stuff and they had a fight and I got hit. So I don't do frontline stuff like that anymore. But it really fucked me up, you know? I mean, I didn't like, break my spine or anything. But it still wasn't nice."

She stopped herself again.

What had she asked about again?...Oh right.

"I don't know how old they are - I mean, some are old, but most of them are new. I think. I mean, I had to get them custom made. So small, you know? I wish I wasn't so small. It fucking sucks. I hate it....but, anyway. The guy who made them for me, when I have money, I'm gonna go talk to him again. But I can't talk to him right now. Without any money. Or else I'll get fucked up. Not by, him, though. His...work friends, I guess."

Her ponderous explanation completed, she sat - waited.

>>40843517
"I see, I see." Doctor nods as Brixie speaks, doing some small and quick checks on her vitals. She keeps a mostly straight face, though she does have a hint of concern as she goes. Most tools were ridiculously large for the little Breezie, but she managed -- the only test she couldn't run properly was blood pressure.

After she's done, she slides what she was using away, and goes back to a cupboard to pull out a pair of tweezers and a small mirror. She trots back over, stops by the bed, and looks at Brixie. "Okay, Brixie, I'm going to need you to lie down for a minute. Hold your legs out straight, and try to relax," she says, readying her mirror and turning on an overhead light.

"Tell me, have you been having any other symptoms lately? Namely, muscle spasms, weakness, fatigue, nausea, anything."

>>40843518

She complies docily. Slowly, but completely.

"...I guess, fatigue? Occasionally? Like - right now, tonight actually. Normally I'm not such a downer. I'm kinda fun most of the time. I was making friends yesterday - I even was in a rap battle," she adds with interest, clearly bragging in her defeated sort of way.

"...But nothing like...super serious. I throw up every now and then. But that's just alcohol poisoning. I think.

>>40843521
"Hmm. Intriguing. Well, that... Eliminates a few possibilities," she says, inspecting one of Brixie's forelegs. "And that's good. That means you likely don't have tetanus. That's what I thought, upon seeing the poor condition of these augments," she says, slipping on some rubber hoof-covers and a small mask.

After that small blurb, she goes back to work with a small smile on her face. However, the smile is soon lost and replaced with a very eerie concern. Gently, she pokes at the last bits of flesh on her forelegs, just before where the augment is attached. Some skin flakes off, and she arches her eyebrows in worry.

"...Hmm."

>>40843526

"Yeah - That's, uhm, where I keep some....well, right now, its just got, like, drug stuff. For me. But its one of those, like, multi-compartment foreleg things? I've....I've got a really....stupid idea, but maybe it'll work. I wanna put doctor stuff in it - when I get it working again. Maybe start a....I don't know. Not a company. But like, a service.....it's stupid though..."

The ominous nature of the 'Hmm' seems to have been lost on her.

>>40843530
"Interesting proposal. Perhaps adrenaline or nanobots could do some good, in the future. But, as you said, it isn't working. In the meantime, you have, erm... Bigger things to worry about, miss," Doc says, grabbing a pair of glasses from her counter and coming back over to inspect.

She does some inspection on te area she just touched, and glances over at several of her other augmented limbs. "You have an irregular heartbeat and a concerning pulmonary problem, both likely caused by your aformentioned drug use. Though, I can't fix that; you're going to have to go to a rehabilitation facility. I can send you away with information, if you'd like. But, right now, the addiction is the least of your worries."

She pulls back, standing straight up and straightening her glasses. "These augments are old and dysfunctional, I'm sure you know. Though this is usually not troublesome, in your case, it's had some adverse effects. Namely, developing necrosis," she states as flatly as she can.

>>40843540

And for a moment, she seemed even tinier than she already was.

"...Oh."

That's all she could think to say. She knew what that was. Not naturally - her plan to sell medical services was all resting on the fact she'd had that skill-set 'installed,' via biochip. She knew the vocabulary, the procedure, the works. Of course, she was beyond a little addled, and she was not about to sound like a coherent and trustworthy neighborhood doctor anytime soon - but the knowledge had been there, for a time, before most of her augs stopped working.

So she knew what necrosis entailed.

She could have diagnosed that herself; but self doubt was why she didn't. Without that chip working properly - how could she trust herself? What was a memory of a fact, and an invented fact in a drug induced dream? How could one tell the difference?

...

A moment of shame fell over her, upon realizing that she'd instantly, and immediately, disregarded the Doctor's comment about the drug-related symptoms. A truth she held to be self evident - that she was addicted, she liked using, and didn't even consider the possibility of stopping. And yet, she knew, it was responsible for making life a lot harder. Granted, she'd lived without them, and it honestly wasn't much better - just different. But with that even said - she knew she wasn't about to quit. Not when she'd nothing else to fill that hole with.

Her various addictions, including her augment addiction, were killing her. At their leisure. And in a demented sort of way, that meant things were going according to plan. Indulge - do what you love, and let it kill you, right?

Maybe she'd never get her chance. Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe it was better that this...necrosis kill her, as it gradually gets worse, than to try, fail, and THEN die.

She lie still on that table, saying nothing. Her eyes staring off far away.

Her face revealed nothing - but of course, the inner turmoil was both tragic, and, honestly, pathetic too.

>>40843560
Doc grimaces a bit upon inspection. She'd seen some shit in her day, but there was a certain cringe factor with necrosis on a living patient. Regardless, she otherwise shows little emotion, and goes on with her business.

"It's... Fixable," she says, inspecting a bit more as she gingerly rotates Brixie's right foreleg. "It will take some work, and possibly an amputation of what's left of your forelegs, but it's not life threatening yet. So long as it's treated soon, you should be able to live and replace your faulty augments that are causing this."

"Since you're already augmented quite a bit, the effects are lessened. All you need to do is get the necrotic tissue removed and reinstall augments. That'll cost you a foreleg and a hind leg, almost literally, but you'll live."

"Augments, however, are not my specialty. You'll have to talk to a mechanic to get those fixed. But, if you can remove them, I can sanitize and sterilize them. Fixing and replacing them will be your pain to bear. I'm sorry."

Last edited at Fri, Apr 3rd, 2015 15:34

Poet was beginning to think this "business venture" was going a little slowly for his tastes. To put things succinctly, the cherry maned stallion had settled into the main room of the flat, and had called the rest of their...well, he hesitated to refer to it as a team, into said room with intentions to discuss their options as far as bolstering their financial progression. He sat then in the couch that always seemed to sag, dressed in a freshly pressed suit, lazily, yet calmly kicking a hoof he'd slung over his lap, his forelegs gently touching at his chest.

>>40844364

Well, it could be worse she supposed. it still wasn't good by any means, but it was better than nothing. at least now she knew, right?

"I uh, don't really have the money right now. To get it fixed yet. but hopefully soon I'll have some money. I hope."

she paused a moment.

"... do you, like, know of a place where I can stay for a couple days? I kind of don't have money for my own place, and I sort of need... A new pad soon."

>>40844392
"If you can't afford it, you should hurry. The infection will no doubt spread, and you'll lose much more than your legs. And it may or may not cost more, if it spreads. Be advised; not many doctors can treat Breezies. I'm one of the few that can. And, even then, I'm not nearly as familiar with you as I am other ponies. The sooner, the better. Though, if you don't have cash, that may be problematic."

"A place to stay? I'm sure there are places in the Warrens one could stay. Though, that's ill-advised. They aren't sanitary, and probably contain more body fluids than the hospital's fridge," she deadpans.

"...But. I suppose, if you have no other choice, I may have a proposition or two."

>>40843505
He slowly blushes at that. Giving an awkward grin at that.

"I've only got 12k right now..."

>>40841780

. . .

>Standing absolutely still for a moment, Carnage glared down at him from her little hill, her red eyes boring into him as she snorted loudly and stamped her hoof once into the ground at her feet.

How much of an idiot can you actually be?

>Almost too quick to process, Carnage leapt forward and slammed into Umi with all her weight, sending the stallion toppling over onto his side before rising to stand on top of her fallen comrade. When Umi would turn to look at Carnage, he would see the mare rearing back her hoof to smack the stallion straight in the jaw.

You think I don't see every member on this team as my friend and equal? You think you don't already have what you're looking for?

>Standing up and getting off the blue giant, Carnage shook her head from side to side before kicking at the ground.

I don't fight with or for anyone but my friend's Umi, its just that I don't express friendship the same way most do... I'm sure the Zebra can tell you all about that.

>>40844556

She sits there sheepishly.

She needs that money, or as much she can get - but she's unwilling to say as much, preferring to let Sam decide what to give.

She nervously puffs on her pipe, avoiding eye-contact.

Deciding to take a break from simply hanging around inside the same bar he'd been at the majority of his time since they went off into hiding, Swiftwing was out and about through the streets below, taking the chance to get himself a bit more familiar with the surroundings and to get some well needed fresh air. The time spent in the same bar had been getting to him, starting to feel his mind grow weary of the life he found himself in, and got in his way of being able to enjoy their day at the 'beach'. He was feeling more and more isolated and alone as time went. The realization of just how notorious he was began to scare him, adding to the depth of the breaths he was taking in attempts to keep himself calm and relaxed.

Swiftwing remained attentive and reactionary out on the road while going for his walk. He was rather confident he could best just about anyone that might challenge him, but it was always better to not be the recipient of a surprise attack if someone poorly chose to do so. Not that he was expecting someone to attack him at all.. he wasn't expecting anything while walking through the undercity, though he supposed that wasn't much of a difference than he used to be, just that where he was now was a lot more dirty and shady and the only company he had were his own thoughts which were currently being rather destructive.

Today was the day! Hopefully. Maybe. He was nervous, and who wouldn't be? He was about to do something incredibly dumb, namely the consumption of a gem he was pretty sure was made of pure magic. Everything was set up - he'd called Doc and told her to bring it here, and even gave that new Nightguard a text and asked him to show up. He'd want to see what happened, he figured, and it never hurt to have help in case something unexpected happened.

... Which, truth be told, he was almost expecting. Sure, Vector had ate one and was fine, but Vector was Discord, at that, and Lunacy... was not. The thought of getting someone gullible to do it for him had crossed his mind, but on the off chance it's something actually helpful, well, that would have been a bad choice. So there was a non-zero chance of bad stuff from this, but so there was with everything else he did too, right? And he'd been just fine from those, for the most part! So he'd be fine here, too, right?

... Either that or he'd die horribly, of course.

>>40844573
Umi was, momentarily, stunned. Damn it. He had been closing the gap between them for just that reason. He took the hit to his jaw, blinking, and shaking his head, slowly. Fuck that hurt. When she stood up, the stallion slowly forced himself to his hooves. That had sucked. But the revelation she had imparted on him was even more important. He squared off against her, once more, the pegasus not done with their conversation. She claimed to be a friend. She sure as hell had an odd way to show it. But hell, what did he know? He was just an idiot, right? Snorting, he spit a bloodied glob of spit off to the side, dimly thinking about how she had done the exact same.

Idiot...

His coat bristled, lips pulling back, slightly, in an irritated snarl.

I'm sorry I don't read others well. But I'm no idiot.

He advanced on her, steadily, the giant bearing down on her. He knew he wasn't going to intimidate her, but some well deep in him was starting to overflow. He stopped before her, simply looking down at the mare. They seemed like opposites, but at the same time, similar. Murderous ponies, known in their respective areas for what they did. And yet, at the same time, his inability to read her had only spawned things like this. He remained silent for a few moments, before doing one more thing. Rearing back, he brought his forehead crashing against hers. Eye to eye with the mare, his forehead jammed against hers, the statement was clear enough.

Thank you for your friendship...and I'll do my best to return it.

He straightened back up, the pegasus looking down at one of the few ponies in the industry that could fly, as he did. A small smile had formed at the corners of his muzzle, as he crouched, slightly, still more than willing to talk more with her.

I'm still ready to talk about anything else, if you're up for it.

>>40844599
"I'm on my way, darling. Don't worry, everything is safe and secure. Sorry I took so long -- I was having a drink and a conversation with the dragon we met in the joint op. The body double, Prometheus. It was interesting. I hope you understand."

She trots along the road, meandering her way back to the Warrens bar all on her lonesome. Her packs were sealed tight, now. Nobody would be laying eyes on that gem until Lunacy takes it.

"ETA is five minutes. Is it just going to be us, or did you end up calling Wraith?"

>>40843474
It's a whole new forest now. Well, not an actually new forest, but it might as well be! Without your parents to watch over you, you can go just about anywhere here! You can climb on rocks, you can fly up past trees, you can even dig a hole and go underground if you want! But don't do that because that would be really lame. But the point is, there's a spring in your step and you feel like you're on top of the world!

"So, hey, Mami. Have you ever seen the Badscale Mountain?"

Even if you've never seen it before, you know the name very well. Badscale Mountain is the reason all the guards carry spears these days, and the reason all the chieftains garb themselves in oak-cloaks. It is a mountain on the edge of the forest, beyond where you have ever trod; but on clear days, when you stand in the top of the trees, you can see the inky black smoke rising from it. Deep within it, the Badscales dwell--bright rainbow-colored beasts, that chop down the trees and carry them into their caves, and vomit up dozens upon dozens of roaring metal beasts onto a long black road. No good can come of them.

>>40844418

"Warrens are where I'm sort of at right now. Bouncing from house to house kind of thing. It's...well, it would be more, um, comfortable, if I didn't have to move so much. I think there are, uhm, people looking for me. Don't wanna get caught, you know?"

She shrugs.

"Make do with what ya got, man. They're kinda sketchy and gross. Sometimes. But I have it easier, a little. Like, I just have to watch out for people who, like wanna fuck with me. Leave me in a drawer or something, tape it shut, that sort of thing. Cuz I'm small. But that's okay, sorta. I mean if I were, like, normal sized, I'd prolly get, like, groped, or something sexual like that. But cuz I'm so small I don't get that so much."

She rubs her eyes blearily.

To her proposition, she simply looks up, blinking, curious.

>>40844599
>>40844609
Wraith text Lunacy back! Somewhere along the lines of "Yeah. I'll be on my way." Though he didn't quite set off at that moment. First he had to call a baby sitter or something or someone to watch the lad. Then he gotta get geared up and then he's gotta wait for the baby sitter and blah blah blah. Running a little late, he finally takes to the sky! Heading towards the designated meet up point in which Lunacy had told Wraith (I'm assuming). Ohh, how these was working out so well for the Bat. Making so much with pretty much doing nothing....granted he risked his life with a nuke but...hey! There was two ways that would of ended, nuked or money.

>>40844614
>>40844609
"Alright. Alright, good. Get here soon, tonight's... tonight's gonna be something. Maybe not as bad as the Night of Fire, buuuut.... just get here soon, alright?"

He was nervous. That much was sure. Perhaps Wraith wouldn't be able to detect it so much through Lunacy's response, but both of them would definitely be able to tell once they arrived at the Warren's Bar.

>>40844613
"I understand. Thankfully, I've never been in that tough of a position. The worst place I've ever been is a rehabilitation facility. That was... Damned near fifteen years ago, actually. Maybe even sixteen. I'm glad those years are far behind me."

Memories instantly cross her mind. It's clear the memories are heavy; it bugs her, and she takes a moment to stop and just think. After a deep breath, she turns her attention back to Brixie.

"Well. As you said, you need things -- money, an operation, new augments, and perhaps a cure. Now, though I have a job, and I'm certain I'm doing better off than you are, no offense, I know that I need things, too. More specifically, I could use bodies -- able bodied colleagues. And though your first impression isn't exactly glamorous, I'm certain there's more to you than just a poorly augmented drug addict. Everyone has their purpose, and everyone has things they could do to help people like me."

"If you could tell me yours, I may have use for you. And if I do, and you're willing to provide, I may just be able to help you with your problems."

>>40844620
Soon, Doc shows up, kicking open the door with exaggerated ceremony. She has a bit of a bounce to her trot as she enters the building, and she sets her bags down on the couch.

"Good afternoon, Lunacy!" she says, smiling wide. "Feeling any better than before? --Oh, also, have you been shitting blood? I read about those painkillers, and overdoses can result in bloody stools. --Wait, can you even shit anymore, or is that fixed with your Fullmetal?"

>>40844612
Umi walked along with Layla, smiling and nodding. This was amazing! He had some semblance of freedom, and he could do what he wanted, when he wanted...within the limits set by his parents, of course. He looked to the filly, nodding, as she asked her question. Of course he'd seen them. From the top of the trees around the village, he could see most anything!

"Yeah, I've seen them. I mean, you can see them from the top of any tree really!" He replied, smiling confidently. He also knew about the Badscales. He didn't like them at all, but he wasn't about to admit that to her!

>>40844628
"Oh, good, there you are!" he says with some measure of relief in his voice. He trots on over to the couch and just falls ontop of it - the stress and nervousness had been getting to him, that much was obvious enough. "Y'got the gem? Yeah, of course you would. Silly question." he says, looking over towards her saddlebags.

"Let's wait for Wraith before we do anything." he says, before blinking and realizing he'd been asked a question. He was REALLY out of it. "Oh, uh, I... don't subsist on food right now. Most of my digestive system has been busted, and, well... augments, and stuff. You know how it is. So... can't tell. Heh."

Last edited at Fri, Apr 3rd, 2015 21:32

>>40844628

"I'm not just a drug addict," She began a little defensively. "...but, I can sneak - I mean, I don't know what you'd want that for, or anything. But. That's something I do. Learn stuff for people. Eaves drop. It's easy cuz I'm super small. And...I'm sorta good with computers. A little. And....uhm, I have some medical skills - sorta. I mean, I downloaded them. I.....I'm gonna try and make some money that way, if I can get some stuff together. .....I can paint - and I'm not very good, but I can sing too, the little Breezy added - as though it were relevant.

>>40844628
>>40844649

Some time later, not too much time but noticeably late, the Ghost lands on his hooves infront of the door of Warren's Bar. He knocks first of course before barging in and looking around for his comrades. "Oi, anyone around? Not too earlier am I?" He ask probably noticing he was late but trying to play it off as he trots inside, in full gear mind you, his BSAR slung over his shoulder and in his MDA suit.

>>40844631
"I'm gonna beat em up."

She says this very matter-of-factly, like it was the simplest thing in the world. It doesn't at all seem strange to her that she plans to march out to a mountain full of things that even the warriors don't want to deal with, with the intention to take them all to task. And come to think of it, it's not really strange to you, either! Layla does have a whole lot of fight in her--if anyone could take them out, it would definitely be her!

"But before that, I'm gonna go kill a manticore! And a timberwolf! Or a cerberus!"

>>40844657
"...Intriguing."

Doc considers Brixie's words for a moment. After a quick glance at Brixie and her tiny form, she raises an eyebrow. "...Hmm. You are rather small. And you're good with computers, you say? Might be useful, concerning some recent circumstances," she mutters, looking towards the door.

"You'd be more useful than you'd think. I'll tell you what," she states, walking over to a cabinet. "I'm going to give you some antibiotics to slow or stop the necrosis for now. You meet me at my place at a later date, and we'll discuss further. Likely with another one of my colleagues, should the chance arise."

Before she trots back, she grabs a small piece of paper and scribbles down some notes. Once she's done, she pops open the bottle of pills, slides it in, and screws the cap back on. "Take this. I gave you my address. Tomorrow afternoon, pay me a visit. I'll be sure to bring some supplies and see if a friend and I can't help you with your problems. Sound fair?"

>>40844649
"That's... Lovely," she says, shaking her head. "There are only two or three organs left that actually function, Lunacy. One's your heart, another's your brain, and the third is your lung. That says a lot about you."

>>40844658
"Oh, good. You actually showed up," she replies, giving Wraith a hard time.

"So. Does that mean it's time to get down to business?" she asks, trotting back to her saddlebags. "I have the thing."

Last edited at Fri, Apr 3rd, 2015 21:59

>>40844659
Umi tilted his head, looking to her and smiling. She was really going to do that! He nodded, looking over to her, with a smile. "I bet you could take them all on, Layla!" He replied, scampering along with her. He was happy to walk along with her, thinking about the battles she would fight, and how she would prove herself. He'd help too, if she'd let him!

"I want to help you, Layla. We can be a team!" The young colt smiled, looking over his shoulder, at the ax. He would prove that he was a great warrior!

>>40844602
>Shrugging deeply, Carnage swung her head to the side once and exhaled deeply before turning around and walking away from Umi, her leather duster blowing in the wind behind her as she walked over the hill before her away from the giant blue horse.

Don't worry about it.

>She said in her actual voice, clearly having nothing more to discuss with the horse though it did not discount the possibility of them speaking again at some later date. For now though, she felt content at having cleared up whatever confusion was going on between the two of them and hoped to the Princesses that he'd finally stop hitting on her near constantly.

>>40844662
>>40844658
"You've got the thing!"

Lunacy's momentary, unorganized excitement gives way for a moment before he composes himself, as if he was the commander of a proper group of Nightguards and not the crazy robot leader of a group of nuts who just so happened to stumble into something big. It works about as well as you'd expect.

"Rrrrrright, so. Uh. Wraith, you know about what we do, and everything here, right? With Luna and Vector and maybe Tempest, and.... yeah. We, uh, let's just go with we accidentally Discord and this gem is a part of him, or her, or whatever."

"So I'm going to eat it and see what happens, because that's what Vector did. Everyone agreed?"

>>40844664
Umi watched her go, smiling a little. He spat another bloody glob to the side, before shivering. That had been, well, amazing! He smiled to himself, turning to go don his armor, slinging his ax over his back, once more. His ears perked, as she spoke, the pegasus speaking back, simply.

"I'll see you around, Carnage."

And with that, he was off back towards the bar. He stopped, wincing and shifting in his armor. It still didn't feel quite right on him again. He'd have to shell out for some decent food, or at least something to help him build back up. Eh, it is what it is. With a smile, he continued on, until he found himself back at the bar, settling into one of the chairs. He was bruised up, dirty, but happy as can be. Raising a hoof, he called for a simple drink, downing it, before heading upstairs to take some time to think.

>>40844662
>>40844665
"Some ponies are busy on Friday nights."

He replied back to the Doc, giving a small chuckle as his Friday nights had a bunch of candy and foal movies. But he nodded towards Lunacy...man. He couldn't really wrap his mind around how he's alive, but hey, he's not a science pony, and it's working so.

"I know...things? I mean. What you're talking about sounds like gibberish and insanity, but I'm up for seeing where this gibberish and insanity lead to."

>>40844665
>>40844667
Doc, after turning around and digging in her bags, pulls out the aforementioned gem. With a bright smile, she holds it up and presents it to the two.

"Here it is!" she exclaims, trotting over to Lunacy. She holds it herself, however; she doesn't offer to give it to Lunacy.

"So, Lunacy! What exactly is the plan? I'm not sure what's going to happen when you eat this thing. What happened last time? Have any insight, or at least a clue as to what'll happen?"