Flowers for (You) Edition
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another old green to get us started - the first one I wrote under this name, in fact

>“Oh, dear… is this really happening? Are we actually about to do this?”
>You check your tie as you leave the bustling streets behind and draw closer to the entrance of what has to be the most luxurious hotel in Manehattan.
>Gilded statues line the walkway to the lobby, complete with a red carpet and a dejected-looking butler at the door ushering people inside.
>A quick look at the skyscraper looming above you, and your nerves start to take hold. You’ve had a taste of luxury here and there in your life, but nothing even remotely close to this.
>You thumb the invitations in your pocket to make sure they’re still there. Fluttering the edges of the thick card stock back and forth on your fingers gives you some sense of reassurance that, yes, you do belong here.
>Well, technically you’re a plus one, but still.
>Pushing aside your apprehensiveness for a bit, you turn your focus to Rarity, who’s preoccupied with checking to make sure her dress isn’t off in some way that escapes you.
>You’d told her a couple times before you arrived that she looked, in your words, “impeccable.”
>None of that staunched her tide of uneasiness, however, and you’re sure she’s checked her makeup at least twelve separate times since you both left the boutique.
>As your walk up to the doorpony nears its end, you gently rest a hand on her withers, drawing her attention away from a frill that looks as good as any other on her dress.
>She looks pensive, but those blue eyes are on you; you decide not to waste the opportunity.
“Hey. You look lovely, rares.”
>A bit hamfisted, but it looks like it worked a bit. A dainty smile spreads across her face, reserved in the face of what awaited the both of you inside, but present nonetheless.
>“Oh, hush, you,” she coos, shifting her gaze to your matching ensemble. “What’s that, now, eight different compliments since we left? You’re just brown-nosing at this point, darling.”
“It can’t be brown nosing if it’s the truth, can it?”
>You gesture toward her dress, eyeing it up and down. At a glance, it’s hard to tell it isn’t jet black, but a lengthier examination would show that it’s actually an incredibly deep midnight blue.
>Interspersed throughout the piece is what looks like glitter, but in reality, is actually reflective gemstones that have been reduced to a size almost invisible to the eye apart from their shimmering reflections.
>The idea had come to her about a month ago after hearing about one of Twilight’s friendship lessons.
>She had even named the dress after it during the sketching stage; The Lifted Veil, she calls it.
>A testament to looking beyond surface appearances.
>You come away from your millisecond-long train of thought, refocusing on Rarity in the present time.

>>42331387
>Her dainty smile transforms into a full ear-to-ear grin, and you swear you see a twinkle in her eye for a fraction of a second.
>“Well, if you say so,” she almost play-sings, both of you coming to a stop as you find your place in line to have your tickets punched. “I still can’t believe we were invited, though. I mean, I’ve been to plenty of socials and balls before, but the Cosmos? Quite a few of the most high-society ponies I've ever met have never even set foot here!”
>Your brow furrows as you smirk at the mention of ‘high society.’
“The ponies that you’re referring to are the snooty type, aren’t they?”
>She harrumphs, nose slightly upturned in purposefully exaggerated haughtiness.
>She motions as if to say something, but stops, seemingly toiling in thought. What starts as heavy contemplation quickly gives way to visible surprise as she seemingly wracks her brain for a poignant response.
“Let me guess…”
>You put your chin into the crook of your hand, feigning deep thought. In reality, you already have a confident guess as to the names she’s more than likely thinking of.
“Trenderhoof, Zesty Gourmand, Rosy Bottoms, aaaaaand… Blueblood?”
>Her eyebrows dart up as she casts her gaze at you, seemingly impressed.
>Surprise melts into another wide grin as she somewhat bows her head in laughter that somehow manages to be unrestrained, yet composed at the same time.
>“Have you been committing my couch drama to memory?” she asks inbetween laughing fits.
>It’s your turn to chuckle as you think back to the many nights you played couch counselor for her, often with half-gallons of ice cream at your side.
“Only the more dire sessions. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”
>You release a contented sigh as you deign to continue the original conversation.
“Those four are all their own unique brand of jerk, though. Thread Weaver didn’t seem like that when she gave us our invites after the show awhile ago, she seemed more… grounded, for lack of a better term. Hopefully the same is true for the rest of the guests.”
>You take one last glance at the top of the monolithic building in front of you before you pass under the covered entrance.
“Besides, I heard the group who runs the place tend to keep their invites corporate. You know, executives and such.”
>Only two couples in front of you now; you move up slightly.
“That’s about all I was able to glean from people around town, though. Other than that, everyone I’ve asked has no clue what goes on up there.”
>A nervous smile takes hold of her features as the last two couples breeze through, leaving the doorpony as the only thing left between the both of you and your evening.
>“I suppose we’re about to find out for ourselves, aren’t we?” she says somewhat breathily as she takes the final step up to the counter with you.

>>42331392
>You gingerly take the tickets from out of your pocket, turning them over in your fingers and holding them out to the stallion, who looks absent-minded as he scans the card until he notices the namesake of the penthouse on it.
“Two for the Cosmos, please.”
>Suddenly, he looks lively, and flashes a wide grin at the both of you as he gestures to somewhere within the main lobby.
>“Of course!” he rings out, putting on his best customer service voice. “Your elevator will be the fourth one on the left as you walk past the main desk. We hope you enjoy your tryst in the Cosmos, and have a pleasant evening!”
>You both thank him at the same time, your voices melding as one for a brief moment before you pocket the tickets once more and traipse into the lobby together, left hand still resting gently on her withers.
>To say that the hotel is a hotbed of the finer tastes would be an understatement. Wherever you look, you spot some sort of luxurious component of architecture.
>Marble pillars are spread sparingly and symmetrically throughout the open space, going up just past your point of view into the ceiling, so as to give the impression that they went on forever to someone who was keeping their eyes forward.
>The floor is laminated concrete tiling, and at its center lays a pattern of a moon within a sun, both monochrome and with different intensities so as to stand out from each other.
>Fixtures, tables, and the reception desk are all either made of black rock quartz or give off a similar impression with swirling charcoal gray veins just barely standing out to you from where you are.
>Gold trim is also present on some of said fixtures. Surprisingly, it’s applied in a tasteful capacity that doesn’t make you curl your toes in mild disgust.
>A hoof tapping against your leg snaps you out of your stupor, and you look down at its origin.
>Rarity’s looking up at you with a mix of anticipation and attentiveness.
>“Where’d you go, darling?” she asks, continuing toward the elevators. You check your pocket square for any creases and, finding none, you follow suit.
“Sorry, I was lost in everything for a minute. I was expecting luxury, but I didn’t think it would be quite this…”
>“Lavish?” she offers.
“That’s one word for it, yeah. It feels like I’m trespassing, honestly.”
>She nods in agreement as you cross the room together, making your way around small gatherings of ponies here and there.
>“I’m glad it’s not just me,” she admits, giving off a chuckle that has the corners of your own mouth rising at the sound of it. “Honestly, I feel a bit out of my element here, as it were.”
>She openly sighs, nerves untensing slightly with the knowledge of your solidarity.
>“Which is silly, right? I’ve accomplished things that should have been far more nerve-wracking than this, but here I am, jittering like a filly on a sugar rush…”

>>42331395
>You nod, sharing the sentiment wholeheartedly. You haven’t noticed until now, but your hands are starting to clam up.
“If you need to come back to baseline when we’re up there, come find me, okay? I’ll probably just be at the bar or something if they’ve got one.”
>You reach over and rub her neck reassuringly, and it feels like she leans into it.
>“You know I will, darling.”
>You two weren’t always this close with each other.
>Rarity’s relationship with you started as purely business, but over time, she grew to enjoy your company when you were helping with the other models and trying on her ensembles yourself.
>That came to a head one day when she asked if you wanted to grab lunch together during your break, which you accepted right away.
>It went well, and suddenly, you two had become fast friends and were hanging out almost all the time, even outside of work.
>Ah, but that’s a tale for another time.
>Pulling yourself from your daydreams, you arrive at the enclave in the back of the lobby and head straight for the fourth elevator.
>Its call button gives off a resounding click as Rarity presses it in, and the two of you wait for it to arrive in comfortable silence.
>After about a good thirty seconds of waiting, the elevator finally arrives.
>When the doors open, you’re greeted by your reflection staring back at you, mimicking your movements as you step aside for Rarity to enter first.
>“Thank you, dear!” she chimes as she meanders past you into the back of the elevator, stopping just in front of the mirror before facing you again.
>You follow close behind, taking your place in front of the button panel, eyeing it up and down.
>For the most part, it's a fairly standard looking panel.
>The top button, however, looks more like a window into space, with no number attached to it.
>Cocking your head at it, you notice that the cosmic patterning moves in tandem with your point of view, creating an enchanting parallax of stars that seem to go on endlessly, as if you’re staring into the heavens themselves.
>Gingerly, you push it inward, half expecting your finger to be sucked into the vacuum.
>You’re only a little disappointed that it’s just a button, and the elevator doors close in front of you, deafening the roar of voices from outside.
>You turn to your left to find Rarity eyeing her reflection up and down, checking for imperfections one last time before the big moment arrives.
>Mimicking her, your gaze turns to your mirrored self. No stray lint anywhere, no wrinkles in the suit or undershirt, the tie is all straightened out… your ensemble looks good enough to pass your inspection.
>Your face is what draws your attention last. You roll your head around here and there, inspecting how you look from all angles.

>>42331401
>The elevator lights aren’t exactly very forgiving, but then again, you’re your own worst critic. Before long, that old pit in your stomach widens, and you feel your mind start to mold its thoughts around it.
>They’re going to stare. You know they will. They always do when they first see you, at least.
>The news of your initial arrival in Equestria was a relatively well-known topic throughout Ponyville and Canterlot, but beyond those two towns, no one was really aware of you. As a result, in your initial travels abroad, you garnered quite a few stares, and even some younger kids asking you what you were.
>The looks and prodding questions were always innocuous, of course. Mostly, anyways.
>Because of that, a feeling of hyper-awareness still hangs over you at every show you’ll ever model at, every shoot you’ll attend, a tick that’s hardened to your matches gorging itself on your doubts.
>“Anon?”
>You turn your attention to Rarity, setting aside your oncoming cloudy disposition.
>Her eyes meet yours, and you bear witness to a sea of uncertainty.
>“Do… do you feel like we’re in over our heads a little bit?” she chokes out, straining to let the words leave her system.
>The words catch in your throat before you can blurt them out. In her shared nervousness, you find an odd comfort that helps to ease the tension of the elevator ride into heaven.
>Seconds pass before you speak.
“Are you nervous too?”
>You almost whisper it, seeking validation from the only mare who can give it to you at this point in time.
>The only one who you want to receive it from, to be completely honest.
>She heaves, letting her head slump slightly as the tumultuous breath she’s been holding leaves her parted lips.
>“I feel I’m about to walk into a manticore’s den,” she relents, seemingly taking solace in the fact that she’s not alone. “I honestly don’t know why I’m so nervous about this.”
“Tell me about it. The longer I think about it, the more I feel like I’m gonna lose my lunch…”
>She eyes you nervously from your stomach to your eyes for a second.
“... and before you ask, no, not literally.”
>You chuckle, half in response to her reaction, and half out of habit as some of your nerves leave you.
>She joins you in quick order with a dainty laugh of her own, and the air in the elevator suddenly becomes a bit lighter than it was when you entered.
>As the laughter dies down, you turn around and lean against the hand railing, relaxing a bit for the first time since you’ve been here.
>Your grin is palpably large.
“We’re a mess right now, huh?”
>“If we are,” she begins, turning to you, “we’re well put together for a couple of messes, wouldn’t you say?”
“Only because we’re wearing outfits that you poured your heart into.”
>She bats a hoof at you dismissively, and you get a whiff of her perfume; higher notes of roses and jasmine, with a slight musk at the base note to top it off.

>>42331407
>Something about it hooks you instantly, but you can’t quite place what scent it is that entrances you.
>You’ll have to ask her what perfume it is later, maybe get some of your own. Why not, after all?
>“I won’t tell you to stop, dear, but you should know you’re stroking my ego at this point,” she goads, striking a proud pose with one lifted forehoof and fluttering her eyes at you.
>You think about going for the low hanging fruit, but the last time you made a sex joke in front of Rarity, she swatted you with a newspaper and called you uncouth.
>She was blushing and flustered the whole time, of course, which made it worth it.
>Before you can make up your mind about it, the elevator begins to slow its ascent, catching both of you off guard.
>You push off of the railing and straighten your suit jacket out one last time.
>Taking a deep breath, you smile down at Rarity as the elevator comes to a complete stop.
“Ready, rares?”
>She takes a breath of her own as you both throw on some bravado for good measure.
>“As I’ll ever be, darling.”
>Allowing her to go first, you both stride out from the elevator and into a short-looking hallway leading to your right.
>There’s nothing particularly special about the architectural design of the hallway, but the floor underneath you has the same space-parallax effect that the elevator button had.
>The cosmos move underneath your feet as you stroll down the hall, and you can’t help but stare in wonder along with Rarity, whose eyes comb the spectacle with wonder.
>“May I see your tickets, please?” a deep, almost booming voice calls out from the end of the hallway, catching you off guard.
>Breaking from your wilful hypnosis, you look up and see a well-dressed, stocky unicorn stallion waiting by the door for the two of you to approach him. His gaze seems to be affixed primarily to you, which you aren’t surprised by in the slightest.
>You wonder if the organizers informed him he’d be seeing something like you. Judging from his stoic face, they must have; if they didn’t, he was taking it in stride remarkably well.
>While closing the distance, you deftly pull the tickets from your breast pocket once more, possibly even more gracefully than earlier. It’s mundane moments like these where you feel Rarity’s runway training takes hold the strongest, like her grace is now hidden in your everyday actions.
>Rarity sticks close to you as you flip the tickets over in your fingers once more, verifying your access to whatever lies beyond the oddly mundane black door.
>With a quick once-over of the tickets, he smiles at the both of you.
>“Enjoy your tryst in the Cosmos, and have a pleasant evening, you two,” he says, parroting that one doorpony from earlier.
>Without another word, his horn alights with an amber glow, and the door handle is enveloped by the extension of his magic.

>>42331410
>The anticipation built up inside you reaches its summit, and what feels like ages pass as the handle takes forever to turn.
>You feel your hand brush against Rarity’s side; whether or not the gesture was born from your volition or hers, you have no way of knowing.
>The contact, though innocent and brief, gives the lightning in your nerves a proper path to ground.
>As the door handle reaches its lowest angle, you find yourself not wondering, but hoping it’s the same for her.
>Time returns to its normal cadence as the door swings open.
>Having lived in Equestria for a while, there are times when moments laden with magic pass you by as you become accustomed to the world around you and its daily happenings.
>This is not one of those moments.
>Walking in after Rarity, your attention is immediately seized by the windows, which dominate most of the walls of the main room.
>Rather than looking out over the skyline of Manehattan, you find yourself setting your sights upon a veritable ocean of stars suspended in darkness. When you pay closer attention, you notice that some stars have incredibly miniscule differences in color as well as size.
>In the middle window of the wall farthest from you, the usually distant moon is so close that you’re able to make out individual rock formations on its surface, yet still view it in its entirety.
>The endless expanse is so full of visceral, minute details that for a minute, you really do believe that your elevator ride has deposited you somewhere in space.
>Even though it’s more than likely just the parallax effect you’ve seen twice before but on a larger scale, you elect to suspend your disbelief for the night and proudly lean on the notion that you’re spending an evening out in the stars.
>The interior design follows that of the front lobby of the hotel apart from the actual layout of the room. Booths are scattered about here and there, positioned respective to the circular bar at the center of the sprawling room.
>Apart from the booths, there’s group-style seating near the windows that offer a view into the facade of space, complete with a coffee table at the center of each group.
>To your right, a staircase leads to an upper floor just above where you had emerged from, overlooking the entirety of the room. Your guess is that it’s some sort of V.I.P. area reserved for the owners, given that pretty much everyone in this lounge is a very important person.
>Light jazz is playing from somewhere, but you can’t quite place where. As a result, it feels as if the music is a soundtrack to the happenings of the room; there’s even a discrepancy between instruments in your right and left ears despite not wearing any headphones.

>>42331419
>The space is absolutely alive with chatter, and it clues you in to how many ponies there actually are. Almost every booth is taken by at least two individuals, and there are plenty more standing in groups, holding conversations that mix in with the ubiquitous cacophony.
>You’re so busy selling your soul to the otherworldly situation that you just barely manage to recall that Rarity is there with you.
>Turning to her, you find that she’s taken with the spectacle just as much as you are, if not more. Her look of genuine amazement darts from point to point in the room, never quite settling on one thing to truly set her eyes on.
>You gently tap her withers to get her attention.
>She looks back up at you with that same expression of wonder on her face, and for a second, you forget what you were even going to say. Luckily, she takes the initiative.
>“Sweet Celestia! Can you even believe this place?” she exclaims, gesturing to the grand display in front of you.
>You break out of your trance to try to form an adequate reply, a dumb smile still resting on your lips.
“Are we in a dream? How the hell are they making the outside look like space?”
>She shrugs, bemused laughter escaping her lungs.
>“I’m not even sure, but good heavens, the view, and this music… It’s so much more than what I thought it would be,” she expresses excitedly, eyes scanning the room one more.
>Coming down from the high of initial exposure, you endeavor to find your hostess.
“We should probably try to find some seats, or better yet, see if Thread Weaver is nearby.”
>Rarity turns to you once more, but before she can form her reply, a silky voice breaks out from a few feet to your right.
>“No need to go looking,” it says, coming closer.
>Redirecting your gaze to the origin of the voice, you find a slender, dark gray unicorn mare with white, done-up hair dressed in a sleek, black gown that sports ruffles at the shoulders. In her hair is a pin holding it up that’s adorned with her cutie mark: a single white thread passing through the hole of a needle, turning into a symphony of brilliant colors on the other side.
>“I saw the two of you come in. Anonymous, you’re quite the beacon, did you know that?” She goads, winking at you for effect.
>You chuckle, gesturing to yourself as you do so.
“I get that quite a bit, believe it or not.”
>She turns to Rarity, and they exchange a brief, delicate hug.
>“Oh, it’s so nice to see you again, Thread Weaver!” Rarity exclaims happily, severing the embrace. “Thank you again for the invites, this place is amazing!”
>“Only the finest scenery for the finest individuals in the world,” she offers in response, almost like a tagline. “You can both just call me ‘Weaver’, by the way. My full name’s a marathon to get through in casual conversation.”

>>42331420
>She shifts slightly to face you and offers her hoof. Bending down ever so slightly, you take it in earnest and gently shake it, a smile written across your face to accompany the gesture.
>The action lasts but a moment, and yet it’s full of character for someone like her. An elite, yes, but one whose loftiness doesn’t skew her personality.
>She looks back where she came from before turning to face the both of you again.
>“I hate to do this, but before we get properly started with the celebrations, there’s someone over in my corner who wants to speak with you, Rarity,” she relents, looking displeased with the fact that business followed her into the den of heaven. “Does the name ‘Serene Script’ perhaps ring any bells for you?”
>She says that last inquiry rhetorically; it’s likely that everyone in the room knows who that is.
>“The famous playwright??” Rarity almost yells in surprise, a look of disbelief plastered on her face.
>“The very same,” Weaver replies, giggling at Rarity’s near-outburst. “He heard that you were coming and wanted to speak to you, but wouldn’t say why.”
>A frown takes hold of you, unsure of what to make of the ordeal. Surely this must be good news for Rarity, though, since Weaver seems to be jovial about the whole thing.
>You drop the suspicion almost as fast as it arrives, and you’re left wondering why it was even there in the first place.
>Rarity looks as if she can hardly contain herself, a beaming grin shining out amidst the moody lighting. She nearly whips her head in your direction, looking happily overwhelmed, one forehoof raised.
>“Remember what you said earlier about keeping me at baseline?,” she asks, just loud enough for you to make out what she says over the dull roar of the room. “I think I need to take you up on that offer sooner than anticipated, darling.”
>Despite her effort to keep what she says restricted to your ears only, Weaver overhears her and emits a throaty chuckle in response.
>You wink down at Rarity and flash a runway-winning smile, bastion of baseline tranquility that you are.
>Or that you try to be, at least.
“I’ve got you, Rares.”
>You watch her unease melt away as the words leave your mouth. Contented, she nuzzles your side, humming as she does so. Briefly, as she rubs up against your side, you catch a faint blush gracing her cheeks.
>That’s definitely new.
>She’s been physically affectionate before, of course. Back at the boutique, she would share hugs aplenty in the face of good news, or during a good cry. Occasionally, she’d even boop you, and then laugh as you booped her back.
>This feels different, though. Hugs and playful boops are one thing, but nuzzling can be considered a romantic gesture if done in the right context.
>Perhaps she’s just caught up in the moment?
>This is Rarity you’re talking about, though. She’s a hopeless romantic, there’s no such thing as a social slip-up when it comes to her…

>>42331427
>...You sound like Twilight.
>Keen to put the thought on the backburner for now, you idly rub her neck in an effort to return the gesture.
>She breaks from the contact, ready to get down to brass tacks concerning the mysterious playwright.
>“Lead the way,” she confidently proclaims to Weaver, who wordlessly begins guiding you two to the booth she came from.
>You take the opportunity to look over the crowd spaced out across the room to see what kind of faces are present in the mix.
>When you comb over them, you’re met with more than several pairs of eyes, all pointed squarely at you.
>A keen sense of self-awareness creeps its way under your skin, but surprisingly, it doesn’t completely get through to you.
>Unlike the judgemental stares of snobby Canterlot nobility, these gazes seem more curious than anything else, as if you’re the most interesting thing in the room to them, which is saying a lot considering the scenery.
>You can’t quite pin down how it makes you feel, but if you had to simplify it to the point where the emotion becomes watered down, you’d say that it actually felt nice.
>A short walk later, the three of you reach Weaver’s semi-circular booth, which seems to be slightly set apart from the others in the immediate vicinity.
>Already seated are a sky-blue pegasus stallion with a lengthy, well-kept mint green mane, a caramel earth pony mare with short, black hair, and a female griffon with deeply purple accents in her plumage.
>They’re engaged in jovial conversation when you arrive at the table, and like clockwork, their discussion is cut short when the griffon’s eyes fall on you. The other two follow her gaze, and look surprised for a second when they see you.
>Weaver seems to have given them some advance notice of you, though, because their initial stupefaction gives way to warm expressions all around.
>“Good Goddess, Weaver, you really undersold the whole “exotic” aspect,” the griffon on the right starts, eyeing you up and down.
>A dumbstruck frown overtakes Weaver’s features as she processes the comment.
>“Don’t be rude, Genevieve,” the pegasus chastises pompously, rolling his eyes at the griffon. “You just met the gentlecolt, for Celestia’s sake.”
>The mare to his left simply offers you a polite smile, which you return in kind.
>You chuckle inwardly at the friendly display. Already, your opinion of this group is off to a great start.
>Weaver motions to both you and Rarity with her hoof in an introductory manner.
>“Everyone,” she begins, a hint of theatrics in her voice. “I’d like to introduce Rarity, fashionista extraordinaire from Ponyville, and her otherworldly model and assistant, Anonymous.”
>Your slight smile inadvertently widens at such a boisterous introduction. You and Rarity bow your heads slightly to address the three of them, and the two ponies return the gesture while the griffon waves.

>>42331436
>“Rarity, Anon,” she addresses the both of you, gesturing to her friends. “From your right to your left, this is Genevieve, Serene Script, and his assistant, Starry Spotlight.”
>“A pleasure to meet the two of you,” Serene greets, notably a little tipsy already. “Our gracious host here was just regaling us with the tale of your latest batch of runway ensembles, Rarity.”
>She bats a hoof in the air, bashful in the face of all of the sudden praise. A blush ever so slightly graces her face, and the shy display warms your heart.
>“Only good things, I hope?” She inquires, nervous to hear what Weaver had been saying.
>“She was pretty much singing your praises for the better part of ten minutes, so yeah, I’d say only good things,” Genevieve chimes in, taking a hearty swig of her drink after doing so. Setting her glass down, she looks over at Serene impatiently. “Can you make your secret little offer already? We came here to leave business behind, and I’m already two cups down, so you’re killing the mood for me.”
>Serene side-eyes her, annoyed beyond measure.
>“It’s gravely important!” he exclaims, gesturing dramatically to the sky. “Besides, unlike you, I know the value of subtlety and suspense.”
>He says that last bit with a shit-eating grin on his face.
>You know friendly shit-talking when you see it thanks to your few encounters with Rainbow Dash and Applejack at the bar in Ponyville, so their banter doesn’t worry you in the slightest.
>“You two can take your seats if you’d like,” Weaver offers, taking her own spot next to Starry.
>You oblige her, sliding in next to Genevieve so that Rarity can have the outer seat in case she needs it.
>She cozies up to you rather closely, a hair’s breadth away from being right up against you.
>Thanks to ponies’ quadrupedal anatomy, their head levels don’t change when they sit. As a result, whenever you sit down next to Rarity, she’s only a few short inches away from being eye level with you.
>Something about the idea of being able to look right into her eyes quickens the pace of your heart, and you let out a slightly unsteady breath to release some tension. Rarity, as attentive as she is, picks up on it almost instantly.
>“Feeling alright, Anon?” she inquires quietly, placing a hoof on your forearm while turning her head to look at you.
>You gaze straight into her eyes, and your quickening pulse turns into a raging bonfire. You feel your face go flush, but you can’t do anything to lessen the rising heat in your cheeks, so you try to save face instead.
“I’m okay, no worries. Forgot to breathe for a second there while I was caught up in everything.”
>“If you need to get away,” she begins, nudging your side to convey her seriousness. “Let me know, alright dear?”
>You raise an eyebrow as the corner of your mouth turns upward into a smirk.
“Flipping the script from earlier on me, are we?”

>>42331446
>She raises her own eyebrows and looks away coyly, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.
>“Maaaaybe,” she teases, side-eyeing you playfully.
>Christ, you’re going to have a heart attack. You really should set aside some time in the future to figure out the way she’s making you feel.
>For now, though, the butterflies subside as she turns back to Serene, eager to hear what he has to say.
>“What’s this I hear about a ‘secret offer’ for me, darling?” she inquires, her attention fully directed at the regally-composed playwright.
>He adjusts himself in his seat, leaning forward as he does so to fully emphasize the oncoming proposition.
>“Well,” he begins, sounding confident as he sets his hooves on the table. “I’m sure you’re aware, but it’s been some time since I’ve announced any upcoming stage plays.”
>He shifts in his seat a bit, a bit more upright than he was when he started.
>“It’s not due to a lack of effort on my part, however; in secret, I’ve been putting pen to paper like mad, and I’m almost ready to announce to the world that I’ve written a new play. I’ve been able to keep the knowledge of its existence limited to familiar faces that I usually always work with, but for the production of the stage play, I want to branch out and let new blood take the reins, so to speak.”
>Finally, he climactically brings his hooves down onto the table, his own excitement bubbling over.
>“Thus, when Weaver began elevating your skills to lofty heights with her praise earlier today before the gathering, I knew I had to do a bit of research, and I must say, I was thoroughly impressed, miss Rarity.”
>Rarity beams at the compliment, and you can feel her forehooves twitching on the booth’s cushion just to your right. She tends to do that when she gets excited and feels she can’t channel it quite yet.
>She usually takes compliments in stride; she knows what’s coming, it seems. Even you do.
>“Why, thank you,” Rarity replies, bowing her head slightly to acknowledge the outpouring of praise.
>“Which is why,” Serene continued, “I've decided to offer you the position of lead costume designer in my new production, if you so choose.”
>Even though she was expecting it, Rarity still looks dumbfounded at the proposition. Her disbelief is almost palpable as Starry Spotlight takes the lead from Serene.
>“You don’t have to decide right now, of course,” she reassures Rarity, holding a hoof out in comfort. “Pre-production is still at least half a year away, based on mister Serene’s projected timeline of reveal. Take all the time you need!”
>It takes a second for Rarity to come out of her state of shock, but when she does, she shakes her head in disbelief before composing herself.

>>42331453
>Out of view from everyone, you feel her hoof rest roughly on top of your hand. In times of importance, she usually does this to channel any excess energy she’s got so that she doesn’t lose it out of excitement or stress.
>You squeeze back, doing your best to let her know she’s got this.
>“B-before I say yes,” she starts, uneasy at first but quickly regaining noticeable confidence. “How much creative control would I have?”
>“As long as your vision stays true to what I’ve written, you’ll have almost total control,” Serene replies quickly, obviously excited that Rarity is interested enough to ask questions.
>Rarity contemplates for but a moment before making her decision. You’re surprised that she doesn’t say yes straight away, but you remind yourself that appearances are everything with matters like this.
>“In that case, I would be honored to be your director of costume design,” Rarity replies, still absolutely beaming from the news.
>“Excellent!” Serene exclaims, ecstatic that his choice wasn’t in vain. “I’ll have Starry send you a copy of the manuscript as soon as possible so that you can get a head start on the more creative aspect of the ordeal.”
>For a few moments, there’s nothing but silence at the table; no one present is really sure how to segue from what just happened, it seems.
>That is, until Genevieve leans back and downs the rest of her drink without so much as a flinch.
>“You can freak out if you want, you know,” she encourages, throwing a genuine smile Rarity’s way. “I’m pretty sure no one here will judge you for something like that.”
>With verbal permission given, Rarity lets out a squeal as she reaches over and nearly crushes you in a giant bear hug.
>With how hard she squeezes, it’s hard to believe that your organs aren’t flying out of your mouth. You do your best to return the hug in earnest, but even though you’re no slouch, your strength pales in comparison to that of Rarity’s when she’s high on life.
>After what you swear is the cracking of your ribs, Rarity finally releases you, giggling as she shakes Serene’s hoof.
>“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, this is such an amazing opportunity!”
>“You’re going to wow everypony with your talent, Rarity, I’m sure of it,” Serene replies, delighted that it went so smoothly.
>“Well,” Weaver chimes in, “now that we’ve got a proper reason to celebrate, why don’t we set business aside and get down to drinks and idle chit chat, hm?”
>That doesn’t sound so bad to you, especially now that you’ve settled in.
“I can grab the drinks,” you offer, straightening up for the task. “What’s everyone’s poison?”
>Genevieve laughs heartily, sitting up and looking enthused.
>“I like you already,” she says, looking parched. “I’ll take a Neighgroni, please and thank you.”
>“I’ll have a Prench 75, if you will,” Weaver asks.

>>42331467
>You look over at Serene and Starry, curious about their drink of choice.
>“A Manehattan for me,” Serene says, batting a hoof at you. “Cliche, I know, I know.”
>“Double shot whiskey sour, please,” Starry blurts out, seemingly eager for some alcohol in her system. “It’s been a stressful week.”
>You look to your side and find Rarity already looking straight at you, eyes piercing your own.
“Any special requests?”
>She places a hoof under her chin and looks down at the table, deeply debating what the introductory drink of the night will be. A few brief seconds later, her gaze returns to you.
>“Only that I come and order with you,” she offers happily, never breaking eye contact.
>You gesture toward the bar with your arm, ready to follow Rarity out of the booth.
“Lead the way, then, Rarity.”
>She scooches out of the booth in one unbroken motion, making room for you to follow after her.
>Standing up, you find that your attention isn’t drawn to the crowd in the slightest anymore. Whereas before you might have felt lines of sight burning holes in the back of your head, your sole concern lies in fetching drinks for your newfound company.
>That, and the mare that slowed down so she could walk beside you.
>You’d been slowly growing feelings for her over time, but tonight, she’d thrown accelerant on your already steady blaze.
>You decide to sit on it, but only for the rest of the night. Waiting for a while longer to be absolutely sure was tempting, but you don’t exactly get anywhere by sitting on your hands, do you?
>Anxious or not, the thought returns to the shelf as you reach the bar.
>One of the bartenders, a unicorn mare, notices the two of you approaching and matches you from across the bar.
>“What can I get for you two tonight?” she asks, corners of her mouth upturned slightly.
>You look down at Rarity, waiting for her to order her drink.
>‘Ladies first,’ your eyes say.
>With a flutter of her eyelashes and a coy grin, she turns to the bartender.
>“I’ll have a Manehattan to start, please.”
>Without a word, the bartender flashes a bigger smile at Rarity before looking up to you, expecting you to have your order ready to rattle off.
>Rattling off your friends’ orders is an easy matter.
>You, however, have no idea what you’re getting.
>After a few seconds of poring over the menu and failing to decide on any one thing, you feel the heat of a lightbulb flickering on near the top of your head.
“You should choose for me,” you offer to Rarity. “Something you’d look at and think ‘oh, yep, that’s Anon.’”
>One eyebrow raised, you can see the gears in her head turning as she brings a hoof up to her chin.
>“Are you testing me, dear?” she inquires, looking you up and down as she ponders a fitting drink.
“Maybe just a little bit.”
>A throaty chuckle colors your words. Before long, a look of realization washes over her.

>>42331474
>“He’ll have a Dark and Stormy,” she delegates. With naught but a nod, the bartender sets to work, taken by her craft.
>You raise an eyebrow at the satisfied-looking fashionista.
“What made you pick that?”
>“I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” she goads, smugness radiating off of her.
>Not to be one-upped, you taunt her right back.
“Why’s that? Is it something you’re embarrassed to say?”
>You punctuate your prodding by over-exaggerating your raised eyebrow, as well as pulling your other one down.
>Giggling, she props a hoof up on your side, looking up at you with lighthearted amusement.
>“Not particularly,” she admits, flicking her hair out of the way of one of her eyes. “I just think it would be more fun to watch you fruitlessly wonder about it all night.”
>You cast an expression of mock offense down at your best friend, and she meets it with her own.
“How dare you, playing with a poor man’s feelings for fun…”
>Playing up the spectacle, you bring the topside of your hand up to your forehead, looking to some distant upper corner of the room with your eyes closed.
“I never knew you for a heartbreaker, Rarity.”
>Her giggle breaks into gentle laughter, which delights you to hear.
>“Perhaps I just enjoy knowing that you mull over things I’ve said, hm?”
>That single sentence, though delivered benignly, drives all heat from your body straight to your cheeks, and you know right then and there that anyone could see your blush from a mile away.
>You absolutely despise how easy it is for someone to fluster you.
>It makes this innocent little flirting game you’re playing with Rarity lean all the more in her favor.
>Before either of you can speak on it, however, the bartender slides out from a gap in the counter while magically carrying an ornate tray with all of your drinks on it.
>“Would you show me to your table, please?” she inquires, shutting the barrier behind her.
>With a nod, you both show the mare back to your party, sliding into your previous spots while she passes out the drinks.
>As the bartender leaves, you all take hold of your glasses.
>“What shall we toast to tonight, hm?” Weaver inquires, getting a whiff of her drink shortly after.
>For a few moments, the table is silent.
>“To prosperity, the future,” Rarity begins before looking up at you again, “and to wonderful friendship.”
> “I can get behind that,” Genevieve replies, her beak curved into a wide grin. “Now let’s get wasted already, yeah?”
>With raucous laughter, you all bring your drinks forward, the resulting clinking sound ringing out across the room as you knock back your alcohol.

>>42331486
*Two hours later*

>Acute voices bounce around in your ears as you hold your head in your hands, elbows propped up against the table. Periodically, vibrations run up your forearms when Genevieve knees the table to the right of you, absolutely hammered in her own right.
>What started out as a simple drinking challenge to everyone from Gen had turned into a test to see just how many drinks you could down after she tapped out, unable to go on, while you were only just crossing the barrier from tipsy into drunk.
>As it just so happened, griffons had a much higher alcohol tolerance than ponies, and that gave Gen a bit of an ego when it came to drinking games. While everyone else had more or less gotten fairly drunk with just one or two glasses, Gen was still going strong, boastful as ever.
>Meanwhile, you were right there with her, outpacing her by the time you had gotten to your fourth glass.
>Given that your human liver was more adapted to processing alcohol, you’d assumed that you’d be able to match her and then add about half a glass on top of it to claim victory.
>What you did not expect was for your liver in particular to be an absolute tank of an organ. Glass after glass, you transformed your victory into a crushing ego check.
>At last, here you sit, delightfully absent from everything in your life but this table and these people.
>A comforting weight against your left side reminds you that Rarity is still there, leaning fully into you, head cradled against your shoulder. She wasn’t wasted like you and Gen were, but she was still somewhat inebriated, which was a rare sight.
>“I’m juuuuust sayin’,” Gen slurred, knocking the table on accident again. “You need to jump his bones, s- stu- Starry… dude seems like he’s all over you.”
>Opening your eyes, you notice Starry, who had stopped after about half a glass, absolutely burning up with embarrassment.
>Something about a colt she’s into, you think. For the past five minutes or so you’ve just been trying to level out so you don’t embarrass yourself, so rejoining the conversation is a bit jarring.
>Your own mindfulness erodes as you try to think of something to say to join the conversation.
“Does this guy…”
>One of your hands rests on the table, and you feel it moving even though it’s stationary.
“Does he give obvious signs or is he, like… good at hiding it?
>Starry shakes her head. Either that, or she nods; you don’t really care anymore, to be completely honest.
>“He, um, used to be really good at stealing glances and sneaking in compliments here and there, but lately it’s been easier to catch him,” Starry explains, grinning simply from the memory of the guy tripping over himself for her.
>You gently strike the table in response, eyes wide with epiphany.
“Then you shhhh… should try to talk to ‘em about it.”

>>42331490
>Deciding that your head is too heavy, you resolve to lean forward and rest it on the table. To you, it doesn’t matter if it makes it harder for Starry to hear you.
>Rarity shifts to lay her head across the back of your shoulder, which puts her muzzle very close to your ear. You can feel the heated breath heaving through her nostrils, her heavily tipsy state taking its toll.
“Truuuuust me, Starry, you… ya don’t wanna leave it be, ya know? You just think about it forever and it fffffffffucking suuuucks.”
>A hoof finds its way into your side, causing you to scrunch your torso in reaction.
>“Language, darling,” Rarity instructs, the proximity of her words causing you to shudder.
“Ow. I’m sorry, hon.”
>A startlingly quick realization of what you just said nearly rips your brain in half as it races to the forefront of your mind. Despite the thirteen glasses of alcohol, you are as sober as a judge.
>Involuntary, all your muscles tense and you freeze; the mistake slips through your expression for but a moment before you return it to neutral.
>She isn’t reacting, though. In fact, she hasn’t even flinched.
>You pray to God above that she just didn’t notice or something.
>“He has a good point, though,” Rarity continues, picking her head up to more clearly converse with Starry. “The back-and-forth game is fun to play, but only to a fault. At some point, it’s best to just get it all out in the open and see how your potential partner feels.”
>“She’s right,” Weaver chimes in as she sets her glass of water down. “Believe it or not, that’s how my husband and I ended up together. Both of us had been playing hard to get, and one night, we both just got tired of it and confessed. Been with that goofball for going on twenty five years now…”
>Everyone at the tables goes “awww.” You try to as well, but your mouth is currently contorted by the table that your cheek is laying on.
>“Chase your stallion, Starry,” Serene dictates, more drunk than everyone except for you and Gen. “A broken heart is mendable rather quickly, but a longing heart will always wonder what could have been.”
>You pick your head off of the table and sit back up, leaning into the leather-backed seat.
>Truer words, Anon.
“Hey, you… you’ve gotta teach me how to speak that poetically under the influence, Serene. I feel like an idiot right now.”
>He laughs heartily, rocking back from the heaving convulsion.
>“Perhaps one day when we meet again, Anon,” he replies with an air of sincerity that isn’t lost on you. “I’m still keen to read a manuscript from you, you know.”
>You smirk heavily, color rushing to your cheeks as you bat a hand at him that comes crashing down into your lap.
“Told ya that was just a hobby of mine, it’s nothin’ to get worked up about.”
>Rarity scoots closer, pressing into your side with enough force to halt your downplaying.

>>42331499
>“Dear, as somepony who’s probably read over a thousand novels in her lifetime - most of them romance, but that’s besides the point - I can say with confidence that the ‘short little nothings’ you sometimes leave around the boutique often match the passion that I put into my own work.”
>Serene points a hoof at her, looking at you with an expression of ‘I told you so.’”
>“See? She agrees with me.”
>You relent, briefly looking down at Rarity with the faintest hint of adoration in your eyes before returning your gaze to Serene.
“I guess we’ll be in touch, then.”
>A satisfied look crawls across his face as you take a sip from your glass of water.
>“I’ll have Starry set up a regular method of correspondence for us,” he says, gesturing to his assistant.
>Rarity, who’s still pressed against your side, suddenly tenses up and looks around the room for something.
>“Oh dear,” she begins, sounding worried. “Is there a clock anywhere nearby? Anon and I have to catch the train back to Ponyville tomorrow at noon, and I don’t feel like dealing with sleep deprivation on top of a hangover; it makes my curls sag.”
>Weaver angles her head to an odd degree, looking at the top of the pillar at the circular bar’s center where a clock resides.
>“Don’t worry,” she begins, doing her best to soothe your unsettled fashionista. “It’s only 11:28. If you get up at 9, you still have plenty of time to get back and relax before you get some rest.”
>Rarity heaves a sigh of relief, resting a hoof on your leg.
>“Good heavens, I was seriously worried for a second there,” she breathes, visibly de-stressing.
>She casts her gaze at you, and in your drunken state, you would describe her expression as caring.
>“We’ll probably leave now, if that’s the case,” she says. “He’s going to be fighting a nasty hangover in the morning, so we need all the time we can get.”
>She caps off the sentence with a throaty chuckle, rubbing your arm with her hoof.
>The motion is so relaxing that you almost shut your eyes then and there, but you hold out for her sake. You didn’t want her to have to drag some half-conscious idiot back to your hotel.
>“In that case, it was an absolute pleasure meeting the two of you,” Serene states, shaking hooves - and hands - with both of you. “I do so look forward to seeing the two of you again! I’ll keep in touch via mail until then.”
>You point a finger at him jokingly, winking for effect.
“You better, Serene. I’m looking forward to it.”
>Starry waves at the two of you, which you return in delight. You hope she snags that stallion she’s after, they deserve each other.
>“I’ll walk you both out,” Weaver offers, sliding out of the booth. “Gen? Are you going to… oh.”

>>42331512
>A short glance to your right reveals that Gen’s head is lolled back, beak wide open. The gentle, rhythmic rising and falling of her chest is all you need to discern that she’s fast asleep, and probably has been for the past few minutes.
>Poor chick sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind.
“Ah, just let her know we said we’d see her later; I don’t wanna wake her up.”
>Weaver nods as she helps Rarity out of her seat. On shuffling out, her initial stance is a bit wobbly; she’s likely more tipsy than she thought she was when she was sitting down.
>It does not bode well for you who, despite regaining some semblance of proper speech, is still properly plastered.
>You begin your seat-wide journey slowly as you scoot to the edge. Other than a little dizziness, you feel somewhat decent. So far, so good.
>That is, until your ass leaves the chair, and the world tilts sideways. You clutch the table for support, and somehow, it helps you stay upright amidst the nauseous chaos.
>Rarity even reaches out with her magic to give you support, which gives you the rigidity you need to right yourself properly.
>Taking your first step away from the table is precarious, but with the next one, walking begins to feel normal, if a bit labored.
>You breathe deeply, looking down at the two concerned mares gawking up at you.
“I’m… good to walk, I’m pretty sure.”
>They both look like they don’t believe you, but Rarity retracts her magic nonetheless.
>Waving one last time to Serene and Starry, the three of you start to leave through the door you came in from.
>Before you get too far away from the table, you can just barely make out Serene’s voice above the crowd.
>“Sweet Celestia, he needs to just ask her out already.”

-

>“Thank you so much for inviting us here, Weaver,” Rarity says gratefully. “I think I speak for both of us when I say we had an amazing time!”
>“It’s my pleasure,” Weaver reciprocates, flashing a toothy grin at both of you. “You fit in quite amicably with us, and it was a genuine joy to get to know the two of you. I’m sure we’ll all be sending gilded letters back and forth soon enough!”
>A round of laughter rings throughout the empty hall, and if joy was palpable, it would fill the space to bursting.
“I hope we all see each other again soon. I’m not sure how busy you guys are, but I bet it’s safe to assume it’ll be a while?”
>“Unfortunately, yes,” Weaver admits, a small sigh escaping her nostrils. “For the next few months, I’ll be inundated with important projects, but that can’t stop me from sending letters, now can it?”
>You offer a smile to the mare who returns it gingerly before glancing at a clock on the nearest wall.
>“Well,” she continues, pawing the ground with her hoof. “I suppose I should let the two of you go before it gets any later. I certainly wouldn’t want to be the cause of a sleepless night.”

>>42331519
>You wave her worries off, still feeling very wobbly from all of the alcohol so it comes across as you just kind of flailing your arm.
“Don’t sweat it, Weaver. You have a good rest of your night, alright?”
>“I certainly will,” she replies, toothily grinning at the both of you. “Ta-ta for now, you two!”
>With a wave of her hoof, she glides back into the otherworldly club, music becoming muted as the door seals itself shut, marking the end of your escapade.
>To your side, you hear Rarity shuffle as she looks up at you.
>“Well, you look like you’re still having fun, aren’t you?” She prods, playing at your nigh-drunken stupor. “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this intoxicated before.”
>You begin your pathetic stumble toward the elevator doors, the length of the hallway feeling more like five hundred miles instead of fifteen feet.
>You weakly hold onto Rarity to steady yourself, but you can feel the world swaying around you, irrespective of your simple wish to be sober again.
“Being hammered can be fun-“
>A slight bump in the rug threatens to trip you, but Rarity catches you with both her magic and her body as she leans into you diagonally to support your weight.
“-but I don’t think I’m ever drinking like this again.”
>She fills the empty air with a brief, steady hum after your stumble. Rather than a melody, it’s a single, drawn out note of contentment that vibrates through your torso; a serenade for the soul.
>A delicate silence hangs over the both of you as every word you could think to muster catches in your throat.
>Really, what is there to say? Whatever your drunken mind could say would spoil the moment.
>You hold your tongue, preserving the gentle peace as you head into the elevator, guided by Rarity’s weight against you.
>You’re not sure why, but even if you scarcely remember anything tomorrow, you’re going to remember this moment.
>Rarity presses the ground floor button before you can realize you’ve just been standing against the wall, staring into space.
“Sorry, rares…”
>“It’s quite alright, dear,” she replies, chuckling as she comes to be by your side. “A lady knows how to take charge every now and then.”
>You shuffle a bit, leaning more into the wall of the elevator.
>Relinquishing the responsibility of having weight was nice.
“No, no, well I mean, yeah, but…”
>A heavy sigh escapes your lips. A frown takes hold of your features as you look right at Rarity, who’s already meeting your gaze before your head turns.
“I’m sorry I let myself get so drunk. This was supposed to be your night, and I got carried away, and I didn’t mean to, you know, use your achievement as an excuse to get shitfaced…”
>Once again, your eyes become glued to the wall.
>She catches you off guard, pressing into you just as the elevator starts to descend.
>“First of all-”

>>42331522
>A hoof assertively pokes into your side, and you crumple sideways slightly in response.
>“-Language. Second of all, this was your night, too. I don’t care whether or not they deemed you a plus-one, you had every right to be here with me, and I won’t hear another word about it.”
>A few moments pass as your lackadaisical gaze turns to deep thought. You turn to find Rarity still staring up at you, a stern expression in place of her usual elegant smile.
>After a wave of nausea from simply turning, you sit next to her and manage to squeak out a coherent sentence.
“You really mean that?”
>“Anonymous,” she begins, almost flabbergasted, “why do you think we were invited here in the first place?”
>You scratch your chin for a moment, genuinely unsure in your intoxicated state.
“It’s because Weaver was impressed with your ensemble at the show, wasn’t it?”
>“Partially,” Rarity replies. “She thought my designs were of exceptional quality, yes, but my designs alone weren’t what spurred her to connect with us.”
>You feel her hoof press into your side again, albeit much more gently this time.
>“She wasn’t completely sold on my ideas until /you/ walked down that runway.”
>You barely even have time to register her implication before she continues.
>“If you hadn’t been my final model, Weaver never would have reached out to us after the show.”
>You turn to face her fully, a dumb smile plastered all over your face. She meets you in kind with her own far more composed grin.
>“So thank you, Anon. There’s nopony I’d rather have as my partner.”
>Where words failed before, even your mind cuts short of functioning now.
>You try to think of something witty to say, but it’s fruitless, and your gaze stays locked with hers.
>Eventually, her smile drops slightly, and a noticeable blush fades into existence as tangible moments pass between the two of you.
>A rising heat in your cheeks lets you know that the same is more than likely happening to you.
>As the tension reaches a snapping point, the elevator shudders, catching the both of you off guard.
>A resounding chime of a bell indicates that you’ve reached the ground floor, and you can’t help but feel disappointed as you both straighten yourselves out before standing up.
>As the door opens, your unusually forward mind won’t let you just move on without addressing what just happened.
>Mama ‘non didn’t raise no bitch.
“You really are a natural flirt, aren’t you?”
>You can hear the smile on your face.
>Also audible is Rarity’s almost comedic sputtering, which draws out a hardy laugh of your own.
>The walk back to the hotel is painted with carefree laughter from both of you.

https://ponepaste.org/8096
god looking back at old writing and noticing old habits in it is something else
in other news, new oneshot soon

>>42331376 (OP)
Hello everyone, glad to see you again

>>42331528
Good read PK

>>42331376 (OP)
Oh good, I was going to try my hand at making a thread if no one else did.

>>42331528
I think I remember this

what's your headcanon for linguistics? Do ponies speak English? Do they write using Latin alphabet? Is etymology identical or not?

>>42332236
English linguistics, just because language barrier stories are fucking impossible
Ponies mostly use pictography in signage in the show
All etymology is based off puns and wordplay

>>42331376 (OP)
ngl, that looks like it'd be uncomfortably hot

>>42332540
Oh I know how hot itd be

>>42332540
Maybe it's in early autumn after things have started to cool and the first rains have come in to refresh the grass.

>>42332867
Keep it in your pants, man

>>42332236
i'm lazy so i just have everyone speak english. if it needs explaining, it's "Equish" in the Equestrian region, and for anywhere that isn't privy to the existence of Equestria, it's "common tongue."
i need to get better at this, clearly

>>42332236
Usually, I just assume they read and speak English. If not, they're speaking Proto-Indo-European, the language of the original bronys, the horse-riding conquerors that swept across ancient Eurasia after they tamed horses.

I was thinking about this when I was speeding on the highway so I'm gonna repost it. I might repost subsequent chapters every couple of days as the mood strikes me, who knows.

=Aces High=

>Equestria.
>The city of Cloudsdale. Practically the pegasus capital of Equestria and home to the weather factories.
>Weather from Drackenridge Mountains all the way down to Marehiem was produced in Cloudsdale.
>The pegusi here were a jovial type who worked hard and played harder.
>So it made sense that they were big fans of racing.
>You are Anonymous and you are a Wonderbolt.
>First human to be one, first alien too.
>You had landed in Equestria a few years ago with only your baby to your name, it had just made sense to get a job flying, you didn't expect it to lead to you becoming a celebrity.
>Not that everyone was happy about that...
>The idea of an alien not only being considered to join a national treasure of a team not to mention PASSING their rigorous enrollment process had been less than well received. Especially considering how you were able to do it.
>"Cheating" they called it. "A technicality, nothing more."
>It annoyed you. Mostly because you trained your ASS off at the Academy to even pass the fitness requirements.
>A little recognition for that kind of work would be appreciated, a guy couldn't get along on his flight suit making his butt look good forever.
>"Yo Anon!" a voice calls.
>You look up and see Soarin' and Fleetfoot, both dressed and ready for the race hovering in the air.
"What's up, Soar?"
>"We can't find Spitfire! You seen her?"
>Christ, that mare.
>She could turn Stalliongrad into Las Pegasus inside four hours if she put her mind to it.
>You think back to that party she threw on the Albatross last night and get an idea.
"Shit...Soar, go get to the track and warm the others up! I'll get our esteemed leader!"
>Soarin' nods, salutes, and flies off to the stadium as you make your way to the docks.

>>42333997
>The Albatross was The Wonderbolts touring ship. It stores all your gear, equipment, and basically serves as all of your home during the time spent going between locations.
>Spitfire however, gave it a different name when it was docked...
>"Party Boat"
>Her huge parties on the damn thing were legendary, and also loud enough that they sometimes convinced the rest of the team to reside in a hotel on shore when they were going on.
>You step onto the deck of the ship, finally giving your enchanted boots a rest. Not being able to walk on clouds was nothing that an enchanted set of boots and track shoes couldn't fix. Still couldn't interact with them, though.
>You walk past deckhands and crew members as you make your way down to Spitfire's cabin.
>As team captain, she had a bigger room than the rest of you, even had an office in it
>And as you got closer, you saw that today, as with many other times, it smelled like cheap booze.
"Uhg..."
>You rap your knuckles against the wooden door twice to get her attention.
"Spits! It's Anon! Race in twenty, get your ass in gear!"
>You hear clinking glass and groaning come from behind the door.
>You twist the knob and let yourself in, doing your best to ignore the smell.
>The room looked like a tornado went through it. Papers were strewn about on the floor, some of the curtains were pulled down, the ground was LITTERED with empty bottles and laying in the middle of the floor was the yellow and orange captain of the Wonderbolts, Spitfire.

>>42333999
"Spits!"
>"Five more minutes..." she groans.
"No more minutes! The race is starting soon and we need our captain!"
>Spitfire winces and brings a hoof to her head. "Who's the bucking moron who keeps scheduling these this early...?"
"The fans and the demand, Spits."
>You pick up a bottle and toss it into a large pile of them in the corner. "Now get up and let's go!"
>The bottle hits the pile and elicits a groan from it.
>You sigh.
"Hi Scratch..."
>"...Hey Monkey Guy." comes from under the pile.
>You help Spitfire to her feet.
"Jeeze...could you not even get to the bed?"
>"Captain Maregan said the floor was comfy..." she says.
>Spitfire trots over to her desk and pulls a bottle of rainbow goo out of it.
"How much Liquid Rainbow do you have?"
>She pops the cork off and spits it out. "I'm an alcoholic Anon, I know how to avoid a hangover."
>Spitfire looks at the pile of booze and DJ. "We'll hang out again after my race, kay Vinyl?"
>A tired. "I'll be here." comes from under the bottles.
>Spitfire downs the contents of the rainbow bottle and makes several faces as it courses through her veins. She eventually releases a stiff burp followed by a laugh.
>"Ah~! Always hits the spot! Wait outside, Anon! I'll just be a minute!"
"What? Why?"
>Spitfire gets a wry grin. "Because I'm a girl and I have to change."
>You roll your eyes and head outside.
"Fine, but hurry up, drunky."

>>42334001
>You only have to spend a few minutes leaning up against the wall outside of Spitfire's office before the door opens and she walks out in her suit.
>"Alright Anon, shouldn't you go off and get your baby?"
>Spitfire was always okay with you using your pack, she was even the one to defend it when it was asked by the Wonderbolt's management.
>"If we let Soarin' and his big freaky wings in, then we should at least let this guy and his doodad have a chance." she had said.
"Yeah, better strap in, see you out there?"
>Spitfire smirks. "All your gonna be seeing of me is my toned butt during that race, Anon. I ought to charge you."
>Spitfire winks and walks past you and heads to the upper deck while you lead down to the lower decks where you keep your gear.
>You open your locker and lay eyes on it.
>It was a small pack weighing in at about fifteen pounds with two pointed cylinders making up most of the body, charred black exhaust vents at the bottom and a small fuel gauge in the center were the only other notable features.
>You slip it onto your back and secure all the harnesses the techs said you needed. You slip on your controller gloves after that and flex your hands for a test.
>Although you can't see it, you can hear the vents shifting around behind you in response to your commands.
>Satisfied, you grab your goggles and head out.
>You had a race to win.

>>42334005
>You fly over and find the rest of the team stretching near the side of the track, Spitfire sitting on the bench nearby.
>"Anon! Glad you could make it!"
"Yeah yeah, screw you boss, I had to suit up."
>Soarin' flexes his large wings. "Your contraption all ready?"
>You flex your hands and rev up the engine.
"Ready and able."
>Fleetfoot looks across the track. "Think we can beat 'em?"
>You follow her gaze and see a quad of griffins doing similar stretches to the rest of you.
>The Asgardian Annihilators were your current opponents in the race today. Known for their intricate flying patterns and team cohesion. Today was gonna be a good race.
>"Alright racing fans, are you ready!?" the announcer shouts.
>Spitfire calls the team into a huddle. "Alright guys! I've never been good at these speeches, so let's just get out there and kick some flank!"
>"Woohoo!" Soarin' exclaims.
>"Soarin'! Watch your surface area and tighten your goggles. Fleetfoot! Don't do as much weaving, you almost got hurt last time. Anon!"
>Spitfire looks right at you. "Stick close! We're gonna control the front of the pack."
>You nod. Control duty was big time.
>"Who's like us!?" Spitfire shouts.
>The four of you clap. "Damn few! And they're all dead!"
>You and the griffins take your places side by side at the starting line.
>You're put next to a particularly large griffin as you get into position.
>He laughs. "I didn't know apes could fly!"
>You roll your eyes and ignore him as he eyes your pack.
>"Nice toy. Are the Wonderbolts so desperate that they let monkey's with saddlebags into their ranks?"
>Your eyes are on nothing but the refs flag.
"Pay attention, Kitty Cat, you're about to find out..."
>The ref waves the flag and starts the race.

>>42334007
-Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doEwWzMz99A-
>Time slows down once the flag falls and you start to notice everything.
>All the racers break from their starting positions and get a running start.
>You can see Soarin' getting ready to jump high and let his wings carry him on the wind, you can see Fleetfoot preparing to go low and use her smaller size to her advantage, you can see the griffins already starting to get into formation, and you can see Spitfire running ahead to secure the front, the position you should be helping with.
>You stretch your hands to start up the thrusters, letting them get as hot as you could before blenching your hands hard and exploding after Spitfire.
>The first instant of the race started, you fall into position behind your team leader, securing the first two spots of the race.
>The wind beats against your goggles as you accelerate and turn down the track, making your gut want to ease off a bit before you power through.
>Having a mechanical aid to flying evens out, you had learned. While you didn't have to pump your wings to gain speed, only rely on your pack, you soon found that your body was not as conditioned to the air pressure as your team mates was. Pushing yourself too hard was your one way ticket to liquefied insides.
>You keep the speed constant and hug the inside with Spitfire as the two of you enter the precision flying portion of the race.
>A series of hoop gates pockmarked the track and you were required to hit every one.

>>42334009
>You break off from Spitfire and start some fancy handwork to order your pack into the proper maneuvers.
>You twist and bend and weave and turn and intertwine your way through the dozens and dozens of hoops.
>Each team was required to hit all the hoops as a whole, meaning that you had to have a strategy going in to ensure you hit them all, a single missed hoop could cost your team the race in points.
>Your team's strategy was simple enough. You go right, Spitfire goes left, Soarin' goes high and Fleetfoot stays low.
>Not the best plan, but you didn't miss any.
>A squak behind you makes you look back,
>Behind you, you can see the Annihilators entering into the hoop course with Soarin' and Fleet right behind them.
>However that griffin precision kicks in.
>As soon as they enter the hoop course, the Annihilators break formation and fly into the rings.
>Each movement is practiced and perfect, they dive through each other's flight paths and never once stop moving forward.
>What took you ten hole seconds took them barely three.
>And they just passed you doing it.
>GAH SHIT.
>You fly through the last ring and rocket towards the reforming griffin pack.

>>42334010
>You clench your fists and coax a bit more out of your pack, pulling up alongside the pack of griffins.
>The five of you race neck and neck, lagging a bit behind Spitfire as she leads the race several meters ahead.
>The Annihilators eye you as you keep pace with them, daring you to try something.
>Dammit, you wouldn't have to if you had the inside.
>The griffins on your side start to edge their way closer to you, letting large wings flap in your face in an attempt to throw you off.
>You angle yourself down and roll underneath the griffins before blasting forward a bit and pulling slightly ahead.
>Ha. Eat it, bird brains.
>The griffins don't let up however. They wordlessly break their phalanx formation and line up in a straight line, the burly motherfucker who laughed at you taking the lead and their leader taking the rear.
>The griffins extend their talons forward and lower their heads, beginning to reel you in.
>As they get closer, the lead griffin breaks off and falls back the one behind him taking his place.
>He repeats this process and so does the one behind him until only the leader is left and he flies forward seemingly unimpeded.
>Using your teammate to gain speed and avoiding the air pressure...clever.
>But that couldn't slide for you.
>You bring your arms forward and flatten yourself out, kicking in your packs afterburners.
>You break the air in front of you as best you can with your hands as you pull up beside the griffin.
>His friends were way behind now, all that mattered was getting ahead of this guy.
>A few inches more...
>You clench your fists and straighten out as best you can, trying to coax every inch you cou-
>The sound of an air horn goes off and the griffin peels off into the center of the track.
>You look past and see the checkered flag behind you.
>...You had apparently finished the race.

>>42334012
>The judge puts the medal around your neck. Bronze, not bad, but not too good.
>"You raced well, son." he says.
"Yeah...thanks."
>As he walks away you look to your right and see the Annihilator captain return to his squad, the silver medal hanging from his neck.
>Meanwhile, Spitfire trot up to you proudly displaying her gold medal.
>"Nice race, Anon! Let's hope the crew didn't clean -too- much of the party supplies up, we've got a lot of celebrating to do."
>You run your hand through your hair.
"Eh...I should have been faster. We'd have gotten more points with both gold and silver on our necks."
>Spitfire rolls her eyes. "Don't sweat it, Anon. One silver medal isn't going to make up for the rest of their team finishing last. We've got this race in the bag."
"Wish I could share your optimism, boss."
>Spits flies up and puts her hoof around you. "Well I know the cure for that! You're not a two drink chump, are you?"
>You laugh.
"Do you -ever- slow down?"
>"Wouldn't have this medal if I did!" Spitfire says. "Now come on! We9 got a party to plan and daylight's burning!" she says before flying off.
>Yeah...
"Coming Spits!"
>You cue your jets and take off after her, making way for the Albatross.

What a nice trip down memory lane for me, maybe you too.
I remember I used to blast that song >>42334009 when I'd go down the interstate at a buck-twenty at 3:30 to turn an hour drive into a 15 minute one.

>>42334014
Kino green, i remember reading that way back when

>>42334378
Back in the good times…

>>42334014
Hehe. “Coming spits”

>>42333441
>"Thanks for letting us do this, Anon," Lily breathed into your ear.
"Oh yeah, of course," you replied, trying your best not to spill your extra large batch of spaghetti. "I know how hard you girls work yourselves sometimes."
>Daisy and Roseluck hummed aloud in gratitude, the vibrations from which carried effortlessly through your chest and lower body.
>Normally, that wouldn't have been an issue - ponies, for whatever reason, solicited you for naps frequently, so you grew quite accustomed to the close contact and sleepy whispers and all that.
>But Daisy, the poor mare, had chosen a spot most precarious that day, laid out in the sun-soaked field.
>Somehow - maybe she hadn't been thinking - her head found its perch at the very top of your right right leg, her billowing strands of hair just barely reaching your lower torso.
>Which put her scandalously close to the family goods.
>Mercifully, she was turned away from it.
>Unmercifully, though, she made a habit of tossing and turning in her sleep, which did absolutely nothing to alleviate your impending situation.
>Even worse still, you weren't exactly wanting for sensitivity. Every twitch, every yawn, every odd movement short of breathing stoked the growing fire in your gut.
>You thought of everything you could to stem the tide, but none of it worked.
>Suddenly, roughly, Daisy flipped onto her other side, rubbing her head up against your traitorous member.
>God help you.

>>42334982
Lol

>>42334982
the draw of writing smut grows stronger every day

>>42334378
Hey, thanks choom.

-Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NV6Rdv1a3I-
>"Come along! Come along! Everypony up at at'em!"
>You groan and clutch your head at the sound awakening you.
>The bed you feel yourself laying against lurches to the left a bit, shifting the contents of your stomach.
>That meant the ship was already moving.
>You roll over and paw at the spot next to you: Empty.
>Good. That meant that any possible mistake you made last night had gotten off the boat before it shoved off.
>Kicking someone off the ship while it was in mid air was always awkward.
>"Come along now! We've business to attend to!"
"I'm up, Fancy! Relax!"
>"Team meeting in ten!" he shout.
>Oh brilliant...
>Fancypants was many things in Equestria. Socialite, Philanthropist, eccentric millionaire, and to you; proprietary investor and manager of the Wonderbolts, thus making him your boss's boss.
>If he was calling a meeting, it was more than a bit important.
>You hear a groaning of equal annoyance from the room next to you, that'd be Soarin'.
>"Anonymous...what the hell is this about?" he asks through the walls.
"I don't know Soar, did you wake up with some underage girl in your bed again?"
>"That happened ONCE and her birthday was two weeks away, thank you very much."
>You chuckle as you dig through the drawer beside your desk for your liquid rainbow stash.
>Nothing better to cure a hangover.
>You down the brew and endure the momentary magna your veins have transformed into along with the sense of vertigo before you let out a loud burp, releasing the last of the alcohol from your system.
>"Six out of ten." Soarin' says.
"Always a goddamn critic..." you mutter.

>>42335922
>The Albatross came with a moderately sized meeting room for team members in the event of a long journey.
>Five of you plus Fancypants sit around the round table, all passing time until you could begin.
>Fire Streak sits next to you on your right. "Did this meeting really have to happen onboard at this hour? We're what, two hours out from Canterlot?" he asks rubbing his light orange mane.
>Soarin' stretches next to you. "Relax, Streaker. We're up no earlier than we are for drills anyway."
>Fleetfoot folds her hooves behind her head and elbows Fire Streak. "Yeah relax man, this is all part of the whole "Being famous" thing."
>Misty Fly rolls her eyes, eyes that look the least messed up out of all of yours. "Not to mention it's a part of your JOB, Fire Streak. You could at least do it for the bits."
>He raises his hooves. "Alright! Celestia, lay off."
>Fancypants raps a hoof on the surface of the table and smiles. "Oh come now team! Let's not all start fighting until we've heard the news, yes?"
>You chuckle dryly.
"Not exactly filling us with confidence, sir."
>He chuckles as well. "Now there's no reason to be so formal, old bean. Just call my Fancypants."
>You nod.
>Fancypants may be your boss, but at least he was cool.
>The door at the back of the room opens and a fire maned head wearing dark aviator glasses pokes in.
>"Hey, am I late?"
>Fancypants smiles. "Not terribly Spitfire, take a seat right there." he says as he gestures to a vacant seat next to you and Soarin'.
>Spitfire sits down and rubs her head as Fancypants prepares some things.
>You lean over to her.
"Rough night?" you whisper.
>"Used my last liquid rainbow..." she mutters.
>You cant your head.
"Constant partying might do that to you."
>She laughs. "Been my style for years Anon, can't teach this old dog any new tricks."
>Ol-
>Fancypants clears his throat and makes you shoot back into your seat.
>"Good morning, everypony." he starts. "I see you're all still with us after that little humdinger of a do last night."
>A chorus of somewhat weak cheers echoes back to him.
>He chuckles. "One day I'll take you all to Neighpon to show you a -real- good time. But! Onto work then!"
>Fancypants sits down at the far end of the table and smiles, like always. "I'm sure you've all heard about the re-organizing the RRF is doing."
>RRF stood for Royal Racing Federation, the group started a bunch of years back that basically organized all the races in every kingdom in the world.
>Fire nods. "Safety regulation issues, right sir?"
>Fancy nods. "Indeed. And it's come through the pipe that we're to re-organize a bit as well."
>The chorus of groans grows louder now.

>>42335927
>Now now team, no need to fret. This is for your safety.
>It was too early for this...
>You rub your face. "Just tell us what the damage is, Fancy..."
>He floats a bag onto the table and brings some familiar looking gold and pins.
>"Trainee pins?" Fleetfoot asks. "Haven't we outgrown these?
>"Afraid you just grew back into them, dear. The RRF has designated that from now on, every flier needs to operate as a team."
>Spitfire groans. "Is this because of that Gryphon who flew off on his own and got himself eaten?"
"That dragon -did- make international news."
>"Yeah, and now we're all dealing with the fallout from his rookie mistake."
>Fancypants raises a hoof. "Enough." his face softens. "I'm sorry chaps, but my hooves are tied here. This comes down from RRD heads themselves."
>You sigh and pick up a pin.
"So who are the partners?"
>Fancypants smiles again. "We've got analysts going over all your times and numbers from ever race, stunt fly, and practice for the past year. They're going to put those together and give us the absolute best combinations! Really cutting edge stuff."
>Misty raises her own hoof, staying silent until Fancy nods to her. "How will the effect races?" she asks.
>Fancy nods again. "Ah, an excellent question, dear!...One to which I don't have an answer yet. We're apparently the final rounds of re-organization and the Federation is still working on the new rules."
>Everyone rolls their eyes.
>"Is that all?" Soarin' asks.
>Fancy nods. "That it is, my boy. All of you simply have to relax while the rest of us do our jobs and we'll reach out to you."
>You and everyone else nod as you all get up to leave.
>Tethered to another while you fly...great.

>>42335930
>The Albatross usually spends a goof few minutes parked above Canterlot as it waits for clearance to dock, but any crewman worth their salt can tell you what happens when you put six speed addicted stunt flyers in the air over home after a long trip.
>They jump ship, of course.
>You take your bag with your pack on your back up to the deck just in time to see Fire, Fleets, and Misty fly off to different parts of the city with Spitfire jumping off behind them, leaving just Soarin' left.
"You ready, dude?"
>"I've just been waiting for your slow ass."
>You roll your eyes and leap off the side of the boat, igniting your jets and flying down into the city.
>You hazard a glance back to see Soar right behind you.
>Like most national celebrities, you lived in Canterlot most of the time, keeping a residence on the upper reaches overlooking the wharfs.
>It's there that you direct your descent and land on your balcony, Soarin' touching down next to you.
>He must have noticed the face you were making because he speaks up. "Bit for your thoughts."
>You rub your face.
"Ah, just this partner crap. Buncha bureaucratic nonsense that'll screw with our game."
>Soarin' shrugs. "If it stops me from being a dragons lunch, I'll consider it."
>Overhead you hear the roar of high speed flight and see a familiar smoky vapor trail.
"So who's gonna be our esteemed leaders partner?"
>"You mean "Who hasn't already been"?"
>You chuckle.
"Low blow."
>"Only a bit." he says grinning.
>The two of you yawn practically in tandem.
"...Gonna go home and go to bed?"
>"You know it. Seeya, Anonymous."
"Later Soarin'."
>With that he flaps his wings and flies off over the city.
>You on the other hand waste no time walking inside, dropping your bags and pack, collapsing on your bed and passing right the fuck out.

>>42335576
It's not hard, just don't be a sperg.

>>42336194
Impossible

>>42336194
i'll give it a go after this current project is done then

>>42336568

>>42336780
this anon watches sissy porn

>>42336780
CP LINK DO NOT CLICK!!!

>>42336780
ToT

>>42336783
>no hooves

>>42337017
Disgustingly kawaii

>>42337017
D’aww

>Anon's ranting and raving about how ice cream is a lazy mare's dessert again

>>42336783
UOOHHHHHHH

>>42337791
>”Look Pinkie, if he pays for his sweets, he can say whatever he wants here.”

so the oneshot didn't pan out but i finally found the motivation to keep updating the horror green
https://ponepaste.org/10915
cont. from line 354

>All the while, the pack of maladies gave chase, their distorted howls never far behind.
>Tradewind’s legs decried every riotous gallop, merciful numbness snaking its way through each with every leap forward.
>What felt like years passed before the nil-horizon slowly faded into a comprehensible image - a lone door waiting slightly ajar at the end of the passageway.
>Quicker than she anticipated, she was upon it, and the full weight of her dead sprint crashed into the ageless metal.
>Smatterings of dust and metal shavings sprung from the door into open air as it swung inward, the decaying latch decimated by the sudden impact.
>Tradewind tumbled forth through the threshold, a splitting headache having taken root before she even hit the floor.
>Dazed, she desperately struck out behind her with her back leg, hoping to find the door and slam it shut.
>It never did, though.
>It took her a few moments of bathing in abject panic before she realized that the mechanical pandemonium had died out completely - so, too, had the screams of her aggressors.
>The only things she could hear were her own unsteady sobs and the occasional gasp for air.
>Stars in her vision made it almost impossible to see in the darkness.
>Though she wanted nothing more than to stand and resume her escape, the pure exhaustion that had overcome her legs had simply deemed it not to be.
>She let the weight of her fatigue roll her onto her side, and as her cheek found its way to the floor, it was met not with the cold metal she had expected.
>Instead, plush carpet softly caressed her from below - a plush carpet that she recognized.
>Having spent most of her life playing on it, how could she not?
>When the filaments of light in her eyes had finally cleared away, she was both bewildered and elated to find herself on the ground by her bed.
>Not the sleeping bag swaddled on the cave floor, no; the plush, dream-lined mattress she had been yearning for since everything had begun.
>Though she wanted nothing more, she couldn’t bring herself to believe she had been dreaming.
>The continued pain in her leg, the stinging, the screams…
>It was all far too real to discount.
>With no other recourse, she slowly sat herself up, groaning against the dull ache of her limbs.
>The glow from her bedside window cloaked the room in swathes of abyssal light that glittered against the dark, offering shrewd glimpses beyond an inch in front of her face.
>Her pink, decidedly frilly room was as she left it before the trip - a bit disheveled with most of her toys out of their bins, but mostly tidy otherwise.
>As she sat in the faux comfort of the grand imitation, her eyes came to rest on the open doorway leading out into the rest of her home.

>>42338858
>A single ray of light from the raised hallway window shone diagonally across, forming something of a stripe across the open frame. The contrast was such that the light made the surrounding darkness all-encompassing.
>Tradewind paid that otherwise interesting oddity no mind, however. She simply /couldn’t/.
>For there, sat in that precariously fragile beam of moonglow, was Jet Stream.
>She had half a mind to run to him, but something stayed her hoof.
>Only his body was visible - everything above his neck was subsumed by darkness. Even so, faced forward, she /knew/ he was looking at her.
>Despite everything that had brought them there, he was absolutely spotless - not a single scratch, smudge, or bruise shone out from underneath his fur.
>Perhaps worst of all, he didn’t run to her, or call her name, or tell her that he was glad to see her.
>He didn’t tell her that she was dreaming, or that everything was just a prank to scare her, or that she was just having a nervous breakdown and that everything would be over soon - nothing like that, nothing that would have let her know that everything was going to be okay.
>He didn’t speak at all.
>He just sat there, unseen eyes boring a hole into her skull.
>After untold years of brittle silence, Tradewind began to whisper.
“Jet…?”
>Nothing, for a time.
>Tradewind pressed herself against her bed in an attempt to make herself scarce.
>“New…”
>The foreign, booming voice was fathoms deep. It shook her to the core, her very bones vibrating in resonance. She covered her ears with firm hooves, but it was in vain - no amount of buffeting would quiet her mind.
>Before her eyes, her bedroom in its entirety began falling away, fragments of wood and stone steadily chipping off and ascending into obscurity.
>The cacophony, the violence, the obscenity - the sensory assault was all too much for her, and she held her eyes shut as she shrieked in terror.
>When all eventually became still again, she laid there huddled against the ground for a time, motionless.
>The sudden silence, something she had come to dread, frightened her far more than any unearthly disorder.
>Soon, she opened her eyes once more.
>As she did, she began to glimpse the framework upon which the facade sat.
>She was in a cave once more, but not the one she had come to know.
>She sat upon branch-like, interlaced stone, which pulsed rhythmically with her own heartbeat.
>Space had no concept - the walls and ceiling of the cave were so incomprehensibly distant that it seemed as if she were crouched at the center of a great field.
>Massive metal spikes coiled and rose out of the ground all around her, aberrant thorns pointing skyward at various angles. Their smooth surfaces were laden with vague impressions of wailing faces, contorting in misery.
>Recognition of who they belonged to was nebulous; familiarity came and went against her will.
>Foul, sulfurous air invaded her nostrils. It stung to breathe.

>>42338860
>The only sound she could hear was the slow convulsing of the rock beneath her.
>As she struggled to her hooves, whispered murmurs gave way to disjointed speech.
>“You are new/contemporary/freshborn.”
>The voice, now chained to the tangible world around her, brought with it a shuddering headache. She wheeled around and, in suffocating darkness, came face to face with its source.
>An oblong, vaguely pear shaped mass of pus-yellow resin sat nestled into the earth, the latticework ground underneath rising to coil around its base.
>Wild cracks and fissures raced down the length of the abstraction, originating from two heavily splintered hunks of wood crudely jammed into its left and right sides, akin to a capital T.
>At the very apex of the monolith, the resin smoothed out into a rounded nub that was shrouded by a tattered, milky cloth, which was inscribed with archaic ideograms that she couldn’t make sense of.
>The longer Tradewind stared, the further her horror grew.
>“I understand,” it croaked, whispers cascading into stilted murmurs. “Your shape is incongruent/incomplete/extraordinary. A stun-ted bloom.”
“Where’s my brother!?” Tradewind cried, surprised she could even muster a word in the face of that… /thing/.
>“Jet,” it articulated, obsessed with his name’s phonetics. “J-e-t.”
>Tears ran anew down Tradewind’s cheeks, and her legs bade her run.
>And yet, in spite of everything, she remained.
>“He/brother/hero is elsewhere,” it whispered contentedly. “Homebound.”
>Tradewind’s eyes widened.
“He… He got out?”
>“I… a-aid-ed him-m,” it groaned with great effort. “I will aid/displace/banish you, as well.”
>The cloth on its head began to glow, and before Tradewind could voice her concerns, her head began to feel as if it were splitting in two.
>The agony sent her earthbound, where she cradled her weeping eyes in gravel-dusted hooves.
>A terrible droning swarmed both mind and body as the thing from deepest dark spoke once more.
>“Tell all/the world/the disparate of your… ex-peri-ence here.”
>Pain fell away, and exhaustion settled thusly.
>As the last of Tradewind’s consciousness slipped from her mind, it spoke one final time.
>Its edict, however, fell on absconded ears.

—

>Birdsong.
>Warmth.
>Spring air.
>Tradewind shuddered awake and scrambled to her hooves, aches and pains muted beyond the threshold of adrenaline.
>In disbelief, she blinked away the crust in her eyes.
>She was in the mouth of the cave again.
>She rose quickly, eyes poring over every inch of the rearmost alcove.
>Her brother was absent.
>The hole was gone.
>Tradewind backpedaled, hyperventilating.
>She spun around and set off into a sprint, wailing as she left the cave behind.
>A thin forest welcomed her, equine figures combing the treeline.
>Uniformed figures.
>She ran to them.
“/Somepony help me/!”

one more update for this one until it's thoroughly baked

>>42338865
Longest baking ever

>>42339325
yeah it's been a struggle with writer's block for the past few months but thankfully i seem to be breaking through it, fingers crossed. apart from that though, i always tend to feel like my pacing is either dead slow or too fast when it comes to actually writing the green. it's tough out here

>>42339363
Me at 6pm

>>42338137
Luna isn't that big.

>>42339910
Anon is just small

>>42338137
permission to punch the rude mare?

>>42340046
Go ahead, she’s already won

>>42338137
"Look, everypony! The monkey has fallen in love with the Princess!"
>Raucous laughter erupted from a sum total of three other ponies, all of whom seemed to be her friends.
>The rest of the onlookers, dotted here and there about Canterlot Square, simply gawked in their general direction.
>Some giggled and whispered amongst themselves; some simply smiled, amused by the show.
>More, still, weren't quite sure how to react other than observing closely, and some even seemed dejected.
>Luna herself seemed quite cross, and wasn't trying to hide it.
>Inane though Strawberry's provocation might have been in the grand scheme of things, the monstrous heat of humiliation graced your chest all the same.
>You tried to think of something to say to her, but came up short of anything clever. Your unwillingness to use your usual arsenal of crass insults and heinous expletives in front of Luna rendered you harmless in the face of that contemptible mare.
>The spaghetti lining your pockets grew immensely, only a few seconds away from bursting out in its entirety.
>But suddenly, an idea popped into your head.
>An idea so ballsy, so unlike you, that the thought alone nearly caused the excess pasta to fall out onto the concrete below.
>On any other day, under any other circumstances, you wouldn't have even /begun/ to think of following through with it...
>...But today was different.
>The spillage was imminent, anyhow.
>Why settle for /sauce/...
>...When you can have meat/balls/?
"That's right," you announced as you turned to face the gaggle of blockheads. "I /have/."
>Strawberry and her friends were shocked into silence.
>You wouldn't call it confidence, the feeling that was brimming within you as hundreds of surprised stares combed over you. It was a bit more free-range than that.
"And I was about to ask her to a date before you rudely butted in."
>You spun back around on your heel and found Luna looking up at you - red as a beet, but with a wild grin that grew unabated.
>You loved that smile.
>"I would be honored, Anonymous," she nearly crooned.
>The collective gasp of the crowd colored the air.
>Strawberry, jaw agape, found that she couldn't move, even as everyone else moved on with their lives around her.
>Her friends did all they could to snap her out of her stupor, but to no avail. They went home after several hours of trying.
>Eventually, Strawberry stopped thinking.

>>42339363
If we can get ai to write horse green for us we may be on the verge of either a golden age or a dark one

>>42331376 (OP)
>pic
What does he do when he needs to pee?

>>42340706
He doesn't. Ever.

>>42340678
hopefully that age will stay distant. i'll admit that i'm not very knowledgeable with AI, but the thought of it eventually being able to spit out entire stories gives me the heebie jeebies (and drives me to improve my prose)
>>42340706
they all scrunch together on his back and watch over his shoulders

>>42340706
>”Open wide, Rose.”

>>42341486
never post again

>>42340422
Smug ass bitch

Been a hell of a day.

=Aces High 3=

"Okay, that goes there and this goes here..."
>You tighten a bolt and secure a pump on your pack as your hands flutter about in the routine motions of maintenance.
>You wanted to shape a few things up, you felt a bit wobbly in the race the other day...
>The rest of the Wonderbolts may have wings and bodies that they train to keep themselves in top shape, but you were lucky enough to need something additional.
>While you had to keep yourself in shape to be able to resist the air pressure and withstand the G's you were pulling, you also had to make sure that your equipment was in top shape.
>And that meant staying inside most of your first day back.
>You lean back and wipe the sweat from your brow, looking out the window of your penthouse.
>Canterlot bustles and moves below you as the sun hangs high in the sky, unobstructed by any clouds for miles and miles around. The thermostat on your wall read a comfortable 68 degrees.
>A shame to be stuck inside on this perfect day...
>You reach back into your pack and connect some wires from the power source to the main engines.
>The pack had been trashed when you first arrived in Equestria, but a smart little unicorn who was a...friend of a "friend" helped you fix it back up.
>The main generator was a crystal lattice made by magic that functioned like a sort of super-battery. That powered the engines which used Rosestone actuators to achieve thrust.
>But literally almost no one understood that when you said it, so you just stopped explaining.
> a knock comes at your door, a rhythmic knock that follows a familiar tune. He always used that tune.
"Come on in, Soarin."

>>42342649
>The door opens and Soar trots in, wearing a flight jacket and his goggles resting on his head.
>"Hey Anonymous." he says.
>You grunt an affirmative as you fine tune your ignition circuit.
>"Still playing with your toys?" he chides.
"This "toy" got me a better time than you at the last race, I wouldn't judge."
>"Most of the fans who come out to our races expect a meat headed athlete, not some alien who knows about engineering."
"Most of our fans who come out to our races don't expect to see a flying singer, either."
>Soarin snaps his mouth shut and stares off to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about."
>You lean back and tap your chin with your sprocket.
"Really? Because I seem to remember one of the Wonderbolts putting out an album a few years ago..."
>"Must be imagining things."
"What was it called? "Something Vengeance" or some crap?"
>"Wouldn't know, never heard of it."
"Ah well, it was probably shit."
>"No way, it was probably awesome."
>You smirk and get back into your pack, you hear Soarin look over your shoulder.
>"That thing okay?"
"Yeah she's fine, just a bit of fine tuning. Think I can coax some more speed out of her."
>"Have you been at it all day?"
"I have, but...I'm just about-" you tighten one last screw and close the casing. "-done!"
>You lift it up and check the weight. It felt a little bottom heavy, but you liked it like that.
>"Good! Wanna do something?"
>You cock an eyebrow.
"Don't you have other friends? Why you gotta bother me?"
>He jabs you with a hoof. "Hey new blood, I got seniority so don't be giving me any lip, you hear?" he says with a smirk.
>You roll your eyes and throw your pack on.
"Let me get my gloves."

>>42342651
-Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uakPJhG9kYU-
>"Okay go!"
>You take a running leap over the guard railing of your patio and enter momentary freefall.
>That'd usually be enough to make any neighbors you had move out, an ape jumping from that height, but they were used to it.
>You clench your fists and release after a few seconds, igniting your jets and letting you climb into the air.
>Soarin takes off from your patio just after you do, his smoky trail tailing behind him as his freakishly huge wings carry him just as fast as your pack.
>The two of you soar over the city, waving to the ponies who waved back down below on the ground.
>You show off your synchronized flying skills by weaving in and our of buildings as you keep formation, sometimes even intertwining your trails and eliciting a few gasps from down below.
>That was a publicity stunt. The tabloids had gotten a hold of pictures of you and Soarin hanging out together so much and were CONVINVCED that you two were an item. It was unfounded, but you were told it was goof publicity.
>You had even come across some amateur fiction of the two of you. That stuff was...weird.
>Passing under the shadow of a flying carriage, you look up and squint at the golden reflection coming off it.
>Gold? Flying? that can only mean one thing. And those who dare, win.
>You arc yourself up and come up on the side of the carriage, coming eye to eye with Princess Celestia herself and also meeting eyes with several of her surprised guards.
>Before you get tossed off into the dungeon or something, you throw off a salute and smile.
"Princess."
>Before anyone can react, you pull away and pull a hard right over the rest of the city and high tailing out of there.
>Soarin comes up beside you shaking his head. "You're a braver guy than I, Anon."
"Oh it's cool. She was totally smiling."

>>42342656
>You and Soarin' snagged some ice cream and resigned to chilling at your usual spot. On top of the Canterlot City Stadium.
>You were just regaling him with tails of past exploits.
"So I wake up after her and I don't even -know- what's going on. All I know is that she's made breakfast and speaks a language I can't understand."
>Soarin licks his cone. "Nice deal. So what happened to her."
>You scratch your cheek. "I uh...think she's with Fancy now."
>His eyes bug out of his head. "Shut. Up."
"I think so, yeah. I mean, I don't see Fancy much out of work, but when I do, she's there."
>"Is it awkward?"
"It was at -first-, but I mean, I'm not gonna say something if she's not. Besides, this was a while ago."
>You finish off your cup. You'd always liked your ice cream in a cup.
"So how about you, Saorin. Any crazy stories to share with your old buddy?"
>He keeps eating and looks over the city. "You know me, I've got my fans."
"Any fans who are inexplicably tied to our manager? An ex? A cousin? Perhaps a long lost daughter?"
>Soarin just bites away at his cone silently.
"Aw come on, man!"
>"No way! That's how you never see someone again, kissing and telling."
"As if there'd be that much kissing with you."
>"I kiss enough people, Mister."
"Oh shut it."
>You both sit in silence for a minute before he speaks up.
>"That does remind me though, Fancypants said where he's announcing the new rules."

>>42342661
>That got your attention. The announcement of the new rules would be a big deal.
"Oh yeah? Where is it?"
>He sighs. "You're not gonna like it..."
>Oh no...
"Not..."
>He nods.
"No..."
>"Yup...Ponyville."
>You put the palms of your hands in your eyes and groan.
"Of all the places..."
>Soarin pats you on the back. "Can't run forever, man."
"I can sure try."
>"Will it be that bad?"
"She hates me, man."
>"She can't -hate- you."
"Ooooohhh yes she can."
>"Can't you just ignore her? You have other friends there."
"All of -my- other friends are also hers, no way I can avoid them."
>Soarin is quiet for a bit. "...Sorry man, I don't know what to say."
>You groan again.
"Neither do I."
>You weren't looking forward to a return trip to Ponyville.
>You had come there first and stayed there for a while before you went off to the academy.
>Leaving wasn't on the...best of terms.
>You sigh.
"What am I gonna do, Soar...?"
>He shrugs. "Just gonna have to deal, I guess."
>You look out over the city, dreading the announcement tomorrow.
"Yeah...deal."
>Here's hoping.

Never eat raspberries, kids.

>>42342928
Cute dog

>>42342664
It's been nice seeing snippets of your old stuff.

>>42343454
Next chapter dash shows up

>>42343454
Ponyville gothic

>>42344716
What're the clamps for

>>42343454
I never noticed how unsettling the OG anon design was if you saw it face to face

>>42345701
Nice > face

HK47 needs to finish Thaumaturgy with Anon

>>42344716
Idgi

>>42346339
Anon is something new and interesting and Twilight is going to do Science to him.

>>42345035
anon's brainwaves can be recorded through his nipples

>>42346053
Message him on fimfiction, I know you have one

>>42346557
Surely there’s a horse she can see retard brainwaves from

>>42346392
Sexually?

>>42347726
Not at first, but it always ends up that way. You know how unicorns are.

=Aces High 4=

>"And heeeeeere they are, your Wonderbolts!"
>The six of you zoom over the announcer and pull a high-G turn straight up. You climb and climb to the agreed altitude before you break formation and start your roles.
>You had the simple role, making the boarders. It wasn't glamorous, but it needed to be done.
>The four corners take shape as the rest of the team performs high intensity close quarters flying in the center of the shape your smoke trails were making.
>All at once, at the twelve second mark, you all cut your trails and fly away from one another, letting the smoke trail visage of Equestria's national flag hovering in the air.
>Just as practiced.
>The crowd erupts with applause and the six of you wave as you slowly lower yourselves to the ground.
>As you lower yourself, you scan the crowd for any sign of her.
>So far nothing, that was good.
>You kill your jets on the ground and security lets the crowd swarm you in what Fancypants calls "controlled mayhem".
>Most of them asked for the same stuff, "Sign my photo!", "Sign my wings!", "Sign my son!".
>You kept an eye out for ponies who might try to propose to you, but that hadn't happened in months.
"Yes yes, thank you."
"Thank you for coming."
"Of course I remember you."
>An important part of being a celebrity was fan relations. A lot of famous ponies would just go through the motions to appease people but you find yourself unable to be like that.
>Maybe it's because getting to where you are despite being an alien was an uphill battle, but you felt you needed every advantage you could get, so you committed the names and faces of as many people you could to memory.
>You had just sign a picture for Indigo Brisk who you met in Cloudsdale. Nickle Prickle, someone you wingman-ed for once as a favor was over by the punch seemingly in dire need of another one. Wild Cherry Spice was off bouncing around by the back of the crowd.
>"It's you!"
>And -there- was the voice of the face you wished you could forget.

>>42348193
>You lean over to your security guard, Diggle Daggle his name was.
"Digg, give us a minute."
>"You got it, sir."
>Diggle ushers the crowd away from you and you take the momentary reprieve to collect yourself.
"Hey Dash..."
>You turn around and your field of view is flooded with blue, magenta, and a hint of rainbow.
>"You got a lotta nerve showing up around here."
>You take a step back and lift your flight goggles up.
"I go where the tour takes me, Rainbow Dash. Believe me, I didn't want to come here."
>She huffs and turns away, crossing her hooves. "Yeah I'll bet! Not after what you pulled."
>You groan and rub your eyes.
"YOU left ME Rainbow, and for as stupid a reason a-"
>She zips back over and sticks her face right up to yours. "Not. Another. WORD."
>The air is tense for a second before you back away.
"Fine, whatever."
>You weren't looking for a fight, especially in front of fans.
"Did you just come down here to yell at me?"
>"I wanted to see if you'd show." Rainbow says.
"Okay, why -wouldn't- I?"
>Rainbow shrugs and glares at you. "I dunno, maybe you had some common sense?"
>One of you here had to have it.
>You grumble and wave her off.
"Listen, Dash, I wish I could say it's great to see you again after all this time, but then I'd be lying. If you can't separate -me- from -my job- then that's your problem, not mine."
>You can practically feel Dash's glare boring into the back of your head, but you don't face her.
>"Yeah, yeah okay Anon, real classy." she says before you hear the sound of fluttering feathers.
>You turn to see her gone and sigh.
>"Friend of yours?"
>You turn back and see Soarin' walking past Diggle, if there was one person who he'd let past, it's Soar.
"Nothing just an...old friend."
>Soarin' nods and jerks his head behind him. "Well come on, it's time for the announcement."

>>42348197
>You and Soarin' head up behind the small stage they set up and join the others on stage.
>Fancypants taps the microphone. "'Allo? This thing on?"
>The crowd chuckles.
>Fancy smiles and levitates the microphone into his grasp. "Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlecolts, you all know me and I know a good handful of you so let's not stay hung up on pleasantries, huh?"
>The crowd chuckles again and Fancy goes to the podium.
>"Announcing the teams for the Wondebolt's for this year's RFF racing circuit!"
>This was mostly a formality, pretty much everyone knew who'd they'd probably get pared with. Your money was on Fleetfoot for you.
>"Fire Streak and Fleetfoot, with Fleetfoot as lead flyer!" Fancy calls, signaling for the two of them to trot up on stage together so Fancy could pin the pins on them.
>Really? Would you be lucky enough to get paired with So-
>"Soarin' and Misty Sky, lead flyer Soarin'!"
>Wait, but that mea-
>And finally, our team captain Spitfire and our most known member Anonymous! With Spitfire as lead flyer!"
>What.
>WHAT.
>Your legs move on autopilot and carry you up to Fancy, he pins the silver pin on your chest and whispers "Give them a wave, everypony.".
>You do as instructed and wave to the crowd next to your new "partner" as she glares daggers at Fancypants to the roar of the crowd.
>...
>WHAT.

>>42348204
>It's after the press conference, members of the team and crew are taking individual questions and the fans are milling about.
>You, however, are running around to the back of the stage.
>You need to find Fancy, like, now.
"Fancy! Yo Fancypants!"
>You clear a corner and see Fancy and Spitfire down the path talking, a rather heated discussion by the looks of it.
>Oh well. You half run up to them.
>"-old me that we'd run out this season and I'd be able to-" Spirfire is saying.
>Fancy interjects. "Spitfire, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred thousand times, sometimes my hooves are tied by the committee."
>"Yeah? And where the buck does that leave -me-, Fancy? I've given the best years of my life to this team and this is how I get paid back?"
>Fancy's face hardens. "The "team" is more than just "you", Spitfire. I suggest you think on that."
>It's by luck that his eyes drift over to you. "Oh, hello there Anonymous."
>Spitfire stifles a jump of surprise and turns her head away from you at mention of your name.
"Uh...yeah, hi Fancy, I was looking for you."
>He puts his smile back on. "Of course, old bean. What can I do for you?"
>You rub the back of your head.
"Are you...sure about these matchups? I mean Soar and Spits are the two senior members."
>Spitfire extends a hoof towards you. "See? He agrees."
>Fancy's smile fades and you find yourself nervous that it's fading at you this time.
>"You two, I told you, our analysts have run the numbers and YOU TWO are the best matchup."
>"I literally can't wrap my head around -how-."
"Me neither."
>Fancy rubs his head. "Well...it's the reality of it, the teams are already submitted to the RRF."
>Fancy trots past you and a broiling Spitfire. "I suggest you two work this out...you really don't have much other choice."

>>42348206
>You watch Fancy leave and turn to Spitfire, she's still pissed.
"Hey, are you-"
>"Drop it." she interrupts.
>You drop it.
>Spitfire takes a few deep breaths and finally meets your eyes. "Right, so, looks like we're partners."
>You nod.
"Looks like."
>"I dunno what races we'll be running, but we need to put some time in together. Where do you train?"
"Usually in the mountains around Canterlot, sometimes in Ghastly Gorge."
>Spitfire rubs her chin. "I usually pull mine up at the Academy, I like to make use of the stuff there. You wanna meet me up there in a day or two and we can see where we stand?"
>Who are you to deny a request from team captain?
"Yeah yeah, sure, I can meet you up there."
>She sighs. "Cool. Look, it's trainee season so we gotta put on our dress blues, you still have those, right?"
>You nod.
"Keep 'em pressed just in case."
>Spitfire chuckles and shakes her head. "Such a coltscout...Alright Anny. I'll see you then, then."
>She starts to trot past you and lightly punches your shoulder. "Now c'mon, we got a town that's just BEGGING for a rager to light up the night and we're the most qualified."
>You follow.
"Didn't we just have a rager, like, two days ago in Cloudsdale?"
>"Well yeah, but you can never have too many, amIright?"
"Uh..."
>"Now come on, I need a drink in me..."
>You follow your new partner along back to the gathering and silently wonder just what you got yourself into.

>>42342928
I like this

>>42345701
Celly is pure.

>>42347734
Any hole’s a goal for the head pole

>>42349599
Away harlot, I’m saving myself for marriage

>>42349599
That anon is a child

>>42350522
Yeah.

>>42338865
>Princess Luna narrowed her eyes at the final passage of the written report, sat dominantly in the dead center of her storied desk.
>She read it again - a third time, a fourth, a fifth.
>She could scarcely conceal her nerves upon the sixth retread.
“Was there anything that wasn’t included in the transcription?” she asked the straight-laced pegasus across from her, eyes still glued to the scroll.
>“That’s everything she told our personnel, Your Highness,” the mare replied. “Per your request, we also obtained a copy of her intake form and patient documentation when she was transferred from the local hospital to Ponyville General about an hour ago.”
>Luna, rousing herself from her troubled concentration, tensed her jaw as she finally made eye contact with her.
“Has she told anypony else?”
>“Not to our knowledge. We inquired with the squadron of Lunar Guardsponies that found her, but they said she couldn’t do much other than cry when they were taking her to the hospital. We stepped in to handle questioning not long after she was admitted.”
“They informed me of much the same. What of her parents?”
>“Sleeping as we speak. The hospital’s going to send a staff member to their home tomorrow to let them know she’s been found.”
>Luna nodded, her eyes trailing out of the window to her left and settling somewhere in the star-speckled night sky.
>Her long and heavy sigh was brimming with relief, however momentary. The less of her citizens that had to ingest those contemptible amnestic drugs, the better.
“And her brother?”
>The pegasus grimaced.
>“All we found regarding him was a small tissue sample in the back of the cave, where that hole was supposed to be. DNA was a match with what we swabbed at his house two weeks ago.”
>Luna’s eyes fell shut, head lowered in pity as she sighed for what must have been the eightieth time since the report landed on her desk.
“I assume the filly’s story was substantiated, then? Given that /you’re/ delivering the news, as opposed to my Lunar Guard.”
>“We’re still conducting our investigation, but so far, it’s highly probable,” the mare explained. “We’ve cordoned off the square kilometer surrounding the area for the general public’s safety while we organize a method of approach. The Director will disclose the full breadth of information during your next meeting.”
>Luna nodded, an aficionado at concealing her distress. Despite this, she was genuinely impressed with the department’s efficiency - it had only been two and a half hours since the filly was found.
“Excellent. Have you anything else to add?”
>“Not at this time, Your Highness.”
“In that case, you are dismissed,” Luna dictated. “Have a pleasant evening.”
>“Likewise, Your Highness,” the pegasus replied as she sunk briefly into a deep bow.
>Without a word further, she promptly turned and left.

>>42331376 (OP)
GIWTWM

>>42350658
>Before the ornate door could even close behind her, Luna had already wrenched a bottle of thoroughly-aged ale from the armoire behind her desk.
>She relocated to the plush couch over by the grand window overlooking Canterlot proper and retrieved a scarcely-used goblet from the end table beside it.
>She had never taken to drinking beyond the occasional celebration, much less while she was attending to her duties, but after reading that harrowing account, she surmised no better course of action than to indulge.
>As the frigid metal of the cup touched her lips, she shivered.
>The totem was exactly how the Director described it, even down to its duplicitous manner of speech.
>Even if the physicality of Tradewind’s journey into the earth was proved to be false - and she /sincerely/ hoped it would be - it mattered little. Outside of herself, Celestia, and the Anomalous Research Division, nopony was aware of the Director, and fewer still knew of the circumstances behind his existence.
>Which meant that-
>“I was under the impression that imbibing during work is traditionally seen as taboo.”
>Luna nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden intrusion, her beverage floorbound.
>As she rose to her hooves, coughing up a storm, she glared up at her intruder.
“Director Anonymous,” she glowered. “Have my sister and I not properly stressed to you the importance of /using/ the doors that you find in the castle?”
>The verdant green biped, utterly featureless aside from his sharp suit, bowed his head in an attempt to express what he considered regret.
>“I apologize, Princess,” he replied flatly. “Did my chief of operations not inform you of my intent to speak with you?”
>Were it anypony else, Luna might have mistook such a question for disrespect.
“She did. Had I not grown used to your spontaneous appearances by now, I might have turned everything in your general direction to ash.”
>“If the situation were any less pressing, I would have abided by your request. I trust you have read through the victim’s recollection of events?”
>Luna nodded, nerves returning in force.
“I have.”
>The director offered a nod of his own, crossing his arms behind his back as he paced soundlessly toward the window.
>“It seems we have less time than I previously theorized. Once we devise a method to safely contain that effigy, the rate and size of thaumaturgical phenomena in Equestria will begin to increase exponentially. You are aware of the danger this poses, should public perception reach a level that we cannot control.”
>He stopped, at last face-to-blank slate with the darkened horizon.

>>42350677
>“As always, the ARD will do what is necessary to ensure public cognition remains at zero. However, we require the crown’s blessing before we begin to expand our capabilities. Until now, we have been able to maintain the secrecy of our existence on our own, but moving forward, we may need further assistance to remain confidential.”
>He faced her fully, hands now clasped together in front of him.
>“I am aware that you and Princess Celestia are especially averse to deception where your citizens are concerned, but their ignorance is what keeps them safe from that which writhes just beyond their sight. I would not ask this of either of you if it were not absolutely necessary.”
>Luna’s brow furrowed as she wrestled with the notion of lying to her subjects.
>No, not just lying - obfuscation, misdirection, manipulation…
>It sat poorly on her conscience, in spite of her lack of a choice.
>She shut her eyes in frustration.
“Have you spoken with my sister yet? She sleeps poorly as of late.”
>“I have - she was in agreement. If you wish to speak with her first, though, I understand. I will be in my office whenever you have your answer.”
>He began to walk back toward the door, but stopped just as his hand grasped the knob.
>“That child might be useful to us,” he proposed. “If the words of that entity are to be believed, then I suspect her survival is not owed to mere happenstance.”
>Luna opened her mouth, ready to demand an explanation, but in the blink of her eye, her office was once again empty.
>She'd have to berate him for that ridiculous line of thought later.
>As she roused herself from the comforting grasp of her lounge and made for her sister's chamber, she couldn't assuage the pit deepening in her stomach.
>An ill wind bore down on the world she loved.

https://ponepaste.org/10915
at last, the AiE part of the story is revealed
also finally finished something after months of being lazy woohoo
there might be more from this storyline later on but i'm not gonna make any promises

>>42350692
Is Canterlot usually that big?

>Anon is COMPLETELY resistant to magic
>his footsteps leave a trail of dead plants because >70% of Equestrian flora has some magic
>when Discord, a being of pure magic of chaos, tried to slap Anon's face, his paw outright disappeared
>Mister Mous doesn't abuse his power, his pseudo-Midas' Touch isn't something he can really control

>>42351055
no, but i enjoy headcannoning that the capital of Equestria is far bigger than it's portrayed in the show

>>42351687
Can't believe when they did sci fi Equestria we got gen 5 shit.

>>42351687
What a shitty Mount Horsemore.

>>42350692
That’s gotta be a thread record

>>42352177
Belive the worst about g 5 and you’ll never be surprised

>>42351104
What happens when he pees or cums

>>42332236
All poners actually speak Arabic

>>42354468
grim
>>42353903
>pees
anti-magical acid
>cums
Faust have mercy on his mare

>>42354481
What about poop

>>42354856
Uh Oh

>>42354901
We’ve cracked the code

=Aces High 5=

>You slip your arms through the sleeves of your jacket and hike it up, buttoning it tight and flattening any creases out of it.
"Yeah...yeah that's nice." you say, the reflection in the mirror mimicking you.
>Bit tight around the shoulders...but it -had- been a while.
>You strike a few more poses in your dress blues, standard regs whenever an active team member was at the Academy.
>Had to keep appearances for the hopefuls.
>The medals you'd accumulated over your career glisten in the morning sun on your chest, making you feel good.
>Getting the custom jacket job wasn't that hard. After a seamstress had figured out your flight suit, a looser fitting jacket was easy-peasy.
>You pocket your things, your keys, some jerky to much on, and some gum and grab your pack and goggles.
>The goggles go over your eyes as you look over the readouts on the rear of the pack.
"Fuel lines are good, ignition is solid, turbines to speed..."
>Everything a guy needed to rip across the sky.
>You throw on your pack and slip on your control gloves as you head out onto your balcony, the whistling of the birds playing over your ears.
>One particular song stops. "Y'all headin' out now, Mister Anonymous?"
>Eh?
>You look over the rail and see your gardener, Mr. Greenhooves working on a bush.
>You liked Green, he never let his lack of a cutie mark keep him down.
"Mhmm. Got called into the Academy by the boss."
>Greenhooves whistles. "So that's why y'all got that fancy geddup, huh? Well ya have a good day now and I'll get this place lookin' good fer ya when ya get back."
>You squeeze your hands quickly and flare the engines of your pack.
"Heh. Thanks Green, see you in a little while."
>You thrust your hands down and kick in your afterburners as you shoot off into the sky. You orient yourself and get comfortable as you steer yourself towards the Wonderbolts Academy.

>>42355976
>The flight's not long, an hour tops, but after that you see the mountaintop runway of the Academy and the clouds that orbit it, serving as loggings.
>The main building itself, a big number with marble roofs and tall columns supporting it sits at the edge of the runway.
>You kick on your exhaust as you come in for a landing, the sign that you were a Wonderbolt and you had permission, and angle yourself towards the runway.
>As you skirt the ground, you spot two officers standing in front of a group of recruits, their form fitting suits setting them apart.
>You slow yourself down and drop your legs, running along with your jets a bit as you slow down.
>Just as planned, you stop right in front of the group.
>"Ace on the field!" one of the officers shouts, snapping a salute.
>The recruits snap off the same salute in staggered unison.
>You chuckle.
"At ease, all of you."
>They drop their hooves. One of the officers heads over to them while the other approaches you.
>"What can I do for you today, sir?"
>White coat, side burns, no mustache. This was Manerick, a vet from a few years back who took a shine to the academy over active duty. Spitfire may be ranking officer on here, but Manerick kept the place running.
"I'm just looking for Spits, Mane. She wanted to meet up after we got assigned to one another."
>Manrick nods. "She's probably in her office overlooking things, you know where that is."
>You nod back.
"That I do, thanks Mane."
>The two of you exchange salutes and you head off towards the main building, the sound of jumping jacks starting behind you.

>>42355978
>You head through the main hall and pause outside Spitfire's door.
>This seemed remarkably familiar...
>You knock thrice.
"Please tell me that you're not in various states of undressing in there."
>"Oh har har." comes from behind the door. "Get your butt here."
>You twist the knob and walk inside Spitfire's office. There are filing cabinets on either side of her oak wood desk with a large bay window behind it. A couch is on one half of the room with a projector next to it pointed at the screen on the other half.
"Swanky digs."
>"Comes with the status." Spitfire says.
>She flips a document over and reads it.
>Uhhh...
"What's that?"
>"The numbers the eggheads crunched that put us together. They got your moves down here as well."
>You cock an eyebrow.
"You're doing research?"
>She cocks her own. "Yeah...why?"
>You shrug.
"Uhh...nothing, just never saw this side of you before."
>Spitfire sighs through her nose and looks back down at the paper. "Yeah, well, every sees what they want to see, and it's my job to let 'em."
>That...what?
"What do you mean by-"
>"Looks like you're slow on the right turns..." Spitfire interjects and stares at you.
>You instantly forget your previous line of thought.
"Uh, yeah. It's probably because of all the circuit races, I'm not too used to turning right." you say rolling your shoulder.
>Spitfire puts the file back in the folder it came in and gets out of her chair. She throws on her aviator glasses and trots past you.
>"Well that'll be the first thing we work on, come on."
"Right now?" you ask.
>"It's either that or stay inside and memorize academy records all day."

>>42355980
>The two of you exit the main building and Spitfire shields her eyes for a minute.
>Jesus...
"Are you -still- hungover?"
>"Stow it Anon, it's just bright out here..."
>Sure...
>This couldn't be from the party, it had to be recent. But why'd she drink here?
>The two of you pass by the Dizitron, the class you had run into beforehand is there testing its metal. You throw a wave as you hear them gossip amongst themselves at seeing two true blue Wonderbolts on duty. Spitfire just keeps her eyes front.
"New meat?"
>"Every month like clockwork. Half of 'em won't make it to tryouts."
"Think they'll come back after?"
>"Here's hoping. If we can't make the flyers better, what's the point?"
>That was a part of the Wonderbolts very few people knew about.
>The point of the organization wasn't entirely to just entertain and astound, the Academy was there to teach flyers how to fly safely and well, it was to motivate all the pegusi and gryphon kids out there to want to learn all they could about flying and then do it -right- so they didn't get hurt, and the Wonderbolts stunt and sports team was the public face of that, you were the ones selling the t-shirts.
>It was kinda like being a teacher, a lifeguard, and a rock star all rolled into one.
>Spitfire leads you to the edge of the mountain where a single switch rests.
>"This is what I use for my turning drills."
>She flicks the switch and down in the canyon below, great fans spin up to speed.
>In moments about ten twisters swirl in the sky.
>You release a dry laugh.
"You're joking, right? When did we get THIS?"
>Spitfire smirks. "After you got laid up for that broken leg. You gonna go or what?"
>You pull down your goggles.
"Let's get this test started, teach."

>>42355981
-Five minutes later-
>You cut the power to your jets and enter into a freefall, angling yourself straight down to get the lease wind resistance as you fall through the center of the twister.
>If memory served, the twisters formed about three meters off the fans. If memory didn't serve, you were about to become shredded meat.
>But fortune favors the bold.
>You raise your hands over your face to protect form the wind as you near the bottom of the cyclone.
>The second you clear it, you thrust your hands down and pull your upper body straight up, igniting your jets and rocketing away from the whirling fan with scant feet to spare.
>You zip between the other twisters and pull your second 90 degree turn up the side of the cliff.
>The smoke you're trailing gets sucked into the tornadoes behind you and colors the lead one a dark shade of gray.
>When you clear the top of the cliff and see the shade of orange and yellow you know to be Spitfire, you cut your jets, land on your feet in a crouch, and throw your hands up.
"Tadaaaah!"

>>42355985
>Spitfire rolls her eyes but claps her hooves together regardless. "Alright, you got some moves. But you're still slow on those turns."
"Whaaaaat? I probably set a new academy record with that downwind compensation."
>She rolls her eyes. "Anny, this is -my- course. You're a long way off from beating any records."
>Behind her the class Manerick was leading claps at your display, you wave and Spitfire sighs.
>"Right, good moves out there Anon, keep it up and we'll make a partner out of you yet."
>She floats up into the air and gets to eye level. "Stick around for the day if you want, have some of our world class lunch."
>She flies higher up into the air and heads back to the main building, you think you hear her mutter something about hard cider.
>There that was again...what's up wit-
>That's the extent of the thinking you're allowed as the class that was watching swarms you, some asking questions while others beg for pictures or autographs.
>Manerick shrugs. "I kept 'em busy as long as I could."
>Yeah you bet...

>>42338652
>”So let me tell you about (((the deer)))

>>42356319
Oh god

>>42340032
You can’t just say that to a man

>>42357710
Do what now

b(l)oop

>princesses don't actually celestial objects
>it's just propaganda to legitimize their rule
>lie is unquestioned until
>anon enters Equestria
>who tells bookhorse about different, nonmagical Sol and Luna

>>42358637
*actually move

The mare-tric system!

>>42358637
I mean gravity alone would cover it.

>>42357710
Nice moobs

>>42351687
Imagine having to live underside those waterfallls

>>42351104
is anon The Stranger from Furi?

>>42360105
No one here is good enough at games to have played that

>>42360053
>having to
Man, that's probably primo apartment spaces. Waterfalls have a mood-elevating effect for reasons, and I bet ponies would pay big to have one near their balcony.

>>42360539
I played furi. It's a very cool game. It even got a dlc where you play as a rule 63 version of the protag with a new moveset.

>>42361187
You’re not real, you do not exist, phantasm.

>>42360702
>Always damp
>House under water flow, leakage chance 100%
>When it's windy (which it always is on a mountain) your balcony floods
lol no

>>42342664
D-does something bad happen when we eat raspberries?

>>42345035
Friday night

>>42357710
Who even makes post ironic slutty apparel in Equestria

>>42364731
Who knows indeed>>42331387

>>42343454
Snip this dick


Wait

>>42362943
That's not how waterfalls work

>The sun shines bright, a golden world envelopes you, emerald green grass wet still with morning dew.
>Today you're playing hoofball.
>"C'mon Anon!" screamed Rainbow Dash.
>"It's like you're not even TRYING dude!"
I am!
>You wheeze...
>Atleast, you were playing hoofball...you've been playing with the girls for a while, but...today just..you feel off.
>Pinkie looks you up and down, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards.
>"Nonny....?"
I...I'm fine..
>Cough.
Really! I can still play hoofball with you guys.
>"Y'sure cus-cus we can always stop yanno! We don't gotta play hoofball we can-"
>"Oh COME ON Pinkie!"
>"Dashie..."
>"He's bad at so many things, he's so boring...we finally find the ONE thing he's good at after YEARS of him moping around and doing nothing that you're just willing to let him give up?"
>Pinkie's frown deepens, shaking her head so rapidly you swear you could hear gumballs rattling inside of it.
>"No no no no no, I don't wanna make anypony give up! For really real, honest! I just...he seems kinda tired...and sweaty....and stinky! But not the good kind of stinky he gets, but this new yucky kind..."
>"I think.."
>Pinkie bites her lower lip for a half second before speaking.
>"He might be teensy weensy bit sick..?"
>That earns a roll of the eyes from the pegasus.
>"He ALWAYS smells bad!"
It's true I stink like shit, Ponka.
>"Her name isn't-"
>"Nonny, are you sure you can keep playing?"
>Her eyes, large and wet, look up at you gently.
Yeah! Of course I can..
>You feign a smile.
I'm fine, I just don't exercise enough is all, I'm a fat sack of crap.
>"You can say that again.."Rainbow Dash giggles.
>Pinkie narrows her eyes.
Once I lose enough weight I'll be right up to speed with you and Dash.
>"Ok then can we get this show on the road already? I'm dying of old age here!"
Yeah yeah Rainbow Douche.
>That gets a hell of a reaction out of her, she sends the ball rocketing out with a mighty kick.
>You rush to kick back to..
>The world seems weird right now.
>Hot.
>Why is it so hot?
>Spinning, everything is spinning.
>"Anon you let me HAVE that goal, jeeze you're just no fun to..."
I'm..mmmuuh ..mmssorry?
>"Anon,"
>Your feet stagger, one behind the other, nearly falling over, the world is turning, turning.
>"ANON?"
>Hard to hear.
>You fall.
>Enveloped in a velveteen darkness.

>>42358427
Bath time with Celly

>>42366006
Damn, Nonny's got low blood pressure.

=Aces High 6=

>"Alright people, let's go let's go! We are go in minutes!"
>Shit shit.
"Yeah yeah, cut me some slack, Mane!"
>You run down the hall of your hotel looping your pack on. You shield your eyes as you step out into the too-bright lands of Zebrica.
>"Yo, Anon, let's go!" someone above you calls.
>You look up, Soarin hovers in the air tapping his hoof against nothing.
"I'm comin' I'm comin'!"
>The pack on your back ignites as you clench your fists and fly up to meet Soarin, the two of you zoom towards the racing area.
>After a long flight across Eternity's Crossing and a brief stop in Cervidas, The Wonderbolts had finally made landfall in Zebrica, a first for the team and the nation.
>It was sort of a big deal.
>Spectators from all around the country had come to see the race, between The Wonderbolts and the Black Panthers, Zebrica's premier ceremonial running team.
>When you first heard that, you -almost- laughed, but held it in.
>"Down there." Soarin' says.
>You both angle yourselves down towards the racetrack where Spitfire and the others were idling, the Zebra team nearby as well.

>>42367115
>On either side of the starting line, hundreds and hundreds of zebras, camels, deer, and even a few younger and smaller dragons sat in the stands.
>Spitfire slaps you on the back. "Ha! 'Bout time you showed, you find some nice Zebra-girl bedwarmer?"
"I don't think these beds need it."
>Seriously, they were like sleeping on heaven. You -had- to get one back home.
>Fancypants trots up to the six of you, a headset on. "Alright team, let's not dawdle. We've a race to race. Double up!"
>You join Spitfire and walk out onto the field to the roar of the crowd. The Zebra team walks from the other way, their bodies covered in gold and brass piercings and jewelry, and takes their positions. You get positioned next to one.
>"Good luck to you, my bipedal friend. I hope to see you at the end."
>You nod.
"Race well."
>A horn sounds and a King T'challa steps away from the box seats with the Princesses and other politicians onto a platform in his golden regalia.
>"Friends from near and friends from far! I welcome you to the first in a race without par! The Wonderbolts, of Equestrian and will race our Panthers through forests thick. They will race around this city of Zevera, with speed that must rival the mighty Cheetah. I, King T'challa, do ordain this race, and wish to the speeders luck so they may do so with haste! Now let this monuments event unfold, as we hold the greatest race known round the globe!"
>Huh. So the rhyming thing was cultural, you take it.

>>42367121
-Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4V4IEV8l-gA-
>The race officials wave their flags and clear the track.
>Cameras focus in on the starting line and the world goes slower.
>The announcers come over the system. "Here we are in Zevara, about to start the first race in the International Grand Cup! Today we have the Equestrian Wonderbolts going up against the mighty Zebrican Black Panthers! I'd like to remind everypony that today is the first race after the recent restructuring the RRF and its partners have gone through so be prepared for thrills, spills, and a whole new sport!"
>The checkered flag is waved and held as the lights countdown.
>All the racers tense, gathering up all the potential energy they could before the big moment. You can count your heartbeats, the world is so slow.
>1
>2
>GO!
>"And they're off!"

>>42367121
God, I didn't even clock that king name. I swear to god this was written when black panther was still niche.

>>42367125
>The flag is waved and both teams dash off the starting line, your fellow Wonderbolts flapping their wings and taking to the air while you kick up Ol' Gold Booster and rocket ahead to the rest of your pack.
>Down below you, the zebras run with an incredible speed built up from years of running the long flat planes that made up the whole of Zebrica. The race rules stipulated that the Wonderbolts had to fly in a path mirroring the path the zebras were taking to make the race fair.
>You squint your eyes and see a streak of orange and yellow near the front of your pack.
>That'd be your partner, alright. Time to catch up.
>"Looks like Anonymous is making a move!"
>You clench your fists and throw them back, kicking in your afterburners and pushing yourself forward as you angle yourself below the pack.
>Your burners carry you under the rest of the team and closer to Spitfire.
>Staying close to your partner was probably important.
>You inch ahead under the rest of the team and come up underneath and behind Spitfi-
>Spitfire flaps her wings and blasts you in the face with a massive gust of air.
>You spin end over end and feel yourself start to descend. Ahead of you, you hear Soarin' yell "Dude!"
>"Oh no! It looks like Anonymous was blown off course!"
>Shitshit. Compensate, compensate Anon.
>You spin around once more before righting yourself.
>You're alone in the air, the Bolts are pinpricks in the distance and the zebras obscured by a cloud of dust.
>SHIT.

>>42367128
>"I DON'T BELIEVE IT." The announcer starts. "Anonymous has been blown from fourth to last place by a distance almost indescribable in a matter of seconds, turning the course of the race!"
>OH NO YOU FUCKING DON'T.
>You clench your fists so hard you swear they're bleeding as you try to catch up.
>The massive pack that once was the racers has changed to a stagnated line now as each of their flying and running patterns make themselves known.
>You've kicked in your second set of afterburners now, making the pack on your back shake like a thing possessed and belch black smoke behind you.
>Come on...COME ON.
>You had to retake position, this could be catastrophic.
>On the horizon appears a vast forest of long wooden cylinders grouped closely together.
>This was where your roles would reverse.
>The Forest of Spears was an obstacle that the committee dreamed up as a way to spice things up. The Wonderbolts were to drop altitude and weave -through- the pikes while the zebras were to bound along the flat tops.
>Right, let's do this.
>You soar over Streak and a zebra jockeying for position and enter the forest.
>This was a -lot- like playing chicken and the rule of chicken is to never shut your eyes, so you fight through the pain of keeping them wide open as you dart between the wooden pikes.
>One on the left, two on the right, one fallen over, you bob and weave through every obstacle you get thrown and try to avoid anything that would slow you down, contorting your hands in every possible way to steer your thruster flame.
>Nothing can distract you...nothing at al-
>"That's quite a face you have there."

>>42367131
"GAH."
>You lurch, almost crash, and swerve to narrowly miss a pole before you look up.
>A zebra, the one you saw earlier, skips, flips, and pushes off the poles above you.
"You almost crashed me!"
>"If you are to blame me, also you should blame your partner who almost threw you into the Golden Sea."
>Golden Sea was the name of the long stretches of grass they had along this course.
>You-
"What?"
>"Your flier of the fire mane, she was the one who cut your team in twain, or is this exercise perhaps a feign?" he ponders, hoof to his chin as he does a single hoofed launch into the air and back flips through the air.
>You grumble.
"No...I'm willing to be she-"
>You dodge a pike.
"-missed me there."
>"A team and partner must operate as one, there is simply no other way it can be done."
>You roll and fly under something, looking him in the eye
"What's your name?"
>"To-bei is my name, Buckswanna is from where I came."
>You nod and kick in your burners and rocket out of the forest.
"Thanks for the talk."

>>42367135
>You spend the next 10 miles and most of the marathon race with fists clenched pushing ahead.
>From here, you could see the frontrunners.
>Looked like two zebras tailing Spitfire as she lead the race with a few more racers between you and her.
>Come on, you gotta catch up...
>"Things are neck and neck here in the final stretch! We can see the pack leaders here from C'omt'n stadium and it looks like a close one!"
>Come on...
>You squeeze harder and feel yourself accelerate faster.
>"It's Spitfire and Kintei as they get closer and closer to the finish line! It's neck and neck.
>Come on, Anonymous...
>"I think we may have our le- what's this? Anonymous is pulling in closer to third!"
>COME ON, ANOYMOUS!
>You grit your teeth and streamline yourself as much as you can physically withstand.
>You can feel the chill of the air you cut through in your bones and the razor talons of the wind tear at you.
>You shut your mouth for fear that the speed would suck the oxygen from your lungs, forcing you to scream in exertion inside your head alone.
>"HE'S CLOSING IN ON THE PACK!"
>YOU CAN DO THIS. YOU JUST HAVE TO GO A LITTLE BIT FA-
>You lurch as your thrust gives out momentarily and your pack hiccups.
"NO!"
>Not now!

>>42367139
>What you prayed was just a stall wasn't the coughing continued and you lost both speed and altitude fast.
>"What's this!?"
>No dammit n-
>Your thoughts are cut off as you skip like a rock over the surface of a lake and plunge underwater.
>Your anger at the situation subsides as your thoughts turn from that to not drowning. You swim up and greet the surface with a gasp for breath just in time to hear the announcer.
>"OH! IT LOOKS LIKE ANONYMOUS HAS HIT TECHNICAL TROUBLES! That's an ill omen for the Wonderbolts!"
>You squint and see your name on the scoreboard change from "pending" to "DNF".
>Did not finish.
"...FUCK!"
>You slap the water and dig your pack off as other racers soar over you and dash past you.
>The gauge on the back of your pack reads E, empty.
>You'd pushed yourself so hard trying to catch up to everyone that you ran out of gas.
>And you can't help but go back to -why- you had to catch up.
>You swim to shore and flop back onto your back, staring up at the sky while you wait for the med crew.
"...Ah poodoo."
>Dammit Spitfire...

I've always wanted to write a more Zebra focused story, but the rhyming would probably give me a stroke.

>>42366505
She shits wdyd

>>42367368
I will not be outdone in my own tub. Shit back.

>>42366710
Everyone has low blood pressure compared to pinkie

>>42368235
Or high because of her

>>42350557
Rarity on meth

>>42367145
that's why i keep the rhyming to shaman zeebs and have the regular zebra folk speak normally

>>42366006
Nice.

>Anonymous cashes in on the jingle market
>Remembers no shortage of annoying commercial slogans and jingles from Earth
>Convinces ponies that their all hit songs
>"Ayo, he's Popeye da sailor man, ungh."
>'Yeah an' he live in a garbage can...'

>>42370035
What's the number one hit?

>>42370920
Who dat

>>42371234
The filename says Snow Shower (OC)

>>42371269
OC’s crushing on anon is weird

>>42366006
>Tick ttick tick tick tick tick tick tick
>Goes the clock, shaped like a cat which suspiciously reminds you of a Garfield.
>You're in a hospital room, hooked up to a bunch of machines.
>You've tried to ask the Doctors and nurses questions about what happened after you passed out.
>None of them answer, they just sort of look down at you, smile, give an empty platitude, then whisper to eachother before shortly leaving.
>You don't like that, not one bit.
>Nurse enters the room yet again, she's holding a clipboard.
Nurse? Could you tell me what's going on?
>"Sorry- sorry- We..um..I don't really have time but I assure you that we will get you up to speed shortly.."
>Frown.
>"Oh goodness," she says, looking from her chart to a machine, before looking back down, taking notes, "Oh dear.."
>"I've never seen a minotaur with such severe deformities until now," she whispers. "truly tragic.."
I'm not a minotaur.
>"I told you, I don't have time to talk!"
That's great and all but, I'm not a minotaur.
>Her expression sours notably, eyes narrowing.
>"That's not a funny joke, you most certainly are a minotaur, what else could you possibly be?"
Human.
>She pauses.
>"I've never heard of it before."
>Fame only lasts so long when you're a boring person, you guess.
Well..it's a kind of..I'm basically a primate, alright?
>She rolls her eyes.
>"Very funny, Mr. Anonymous, but you clearly don't have enough fur to be a primate!"
>"Wait...where is your fur..?"
>Her eyes widen.
>"Are you contagious?!?"
Wait-contagious? Contagious for-
>She scrambles out of the room, squealing like a pig on steroids, leaving you alone.
>"TELL ME A JOKE," squealed a blue mare across from you, who's chart reads 'dementia'.
>Almost alone.
Sure,
>"WHAT?"
I said sure,
>"WHAT?"
I said-
>"SPEAK UP I CAN'T HEAR YOU."
I SAID
>"STOP YELLING AT ME!"
>Facepalm.mp4
Ok, alright, I'm sorry I yelled.
>"YOU SHOULD BE."
I am..
>"ARE YOU GONNA TELL ME THAT JOKE NOW?"
Oh sweet mother of fuck, yes!
>"WHAT?"
I'll tell you the joke!
>"I NEVER SAID I WANTED TO HEAR A JOKE."
Well I'm gonna tell it to you anyway.
>She growls, then barks and turns about in her bed angrily.
>"FINE."
Alright,
>Sigh.
Knock knock.
>The air becomes silent.
>The mare stares up at the ceiling.
>You stare at her.
..
>How long has it been since you set up the punch line.
>A minute..?
>Two?
Knock knock?
>More silence.
Knock knock!
>Silence.
KNOCK KNOCK!
>"GET OFF MY PROPERTY! I DON'T KNOW YOU!"
>The mare starts screaming, flailing about in the bed, sending her sheets flying as she rapidly presses the button at her bedside calling for help.
>"SOMEPONY'S TRYING TO BREAK INTO MY HOUSE," she sobs, half angry and half terrified, "PLEASE HELP ME!"

>>42372284
>Irritation builds on you, but you feel so exhausted that as it wells up larger and larger...it just...flows away.
>God, you're tired. The kind of tired that sleep doesn't fix anymore, there's this weight on you.
>You watch as a group of nurse ponies come in, a few eye you warily, before they join in with the others in wrangling the blue mare, who at this point was shitting angrily all over herself and the bed.
>Once they get the doctor in, things get a little better, the blue mare responds more to him.
>"Are you starting to feel a little better, Ms. Screw loose?"
>"Yes, Doctor Stable...I'm sorry.."
>She's crying, he just smiles and gently rubs her back.
>"Would you like to go out with Nurse Snowheart?"
>Just like that, she's ushered away.
>Which leaves you and the Doctor, who looks at you solemnly.
>"Anonymous," his eyes stare transfixed at something within and beyond you, "I.."
Doc, look, I appreciate that you all have a lot of shit to do.
>Inhale, knife-sharp.
But I am a fucking PATIENT. I've been given the run-around since I woke up! You need to tell me right fucking NOW what's..
>"Anonymous, please..."
>He trots closer to you.
>"You'll need to calm down before I can tell you what's wrong."
What do you mean..?
>He shakes his head.
Doc?
>The doctor waits until you calm down, and in time you do, which leads to a series of events that transpire like a train crashing into a wall. It just happens, nothing can be done to stop or advert it.
>The doctor leans in, and you notice how beautiful the sunlight is making the otherwise drab room, though this isn't the main thing on your mind.
>The doctors lips tense, his eyes weary, watered.
>"I'm so sorry," he clears his throat, "you have Cancer."
>Your world simultaneously becomes glass, and the doctor is the hammer that strikes it, sending shards of it raining throughout your life like falling diamonds in the air.
That's not a funny joke.
>Where have you heard that one before?
>"I'm being completely serious, I'm sorry."
>You're lifting to your feet, the machines you were once connected to being pulled off your form.
How.
>He doesn't speak.
How the fuck do I have cancer? How do you-
>Nurses fill the room, a few shout for you to sit back down, but the doctor just...he just looks at them, shaking his head slowly, forlorn.
How could you possibly...I've never.. How!
>You grab him, shaking the little pony.
I've never even..even SEEN a pony die of the flue before, so you fucking..
>Screaming.
How! You tell me right- right fucking now! There's no way! How!
>"You're friends with Miss Twilight Sparkle...correct?"
What does that have to do with anything.
>"As I seem to recall," the words are soft in the air, delicate, "you are the first of your kind in this world."
>He shimmies himself out of your grasp.
>"Being the first of your kind, Ms. Sparkle no doubt spent alot of time talking early on, she probably wanted to understand you more, does that sound right?"
Yes, but..

>>42372388
>"So," he says, trotting in a circle, "Twilight convinces you to run alot of tests."
>The words leave you.
>"Yes, you two likely spent quite a good deal of time running all sorts of experiments...for how long, a month?"
A year.
>You slowly sit back down on the bed.
>"Oh, Celestia.."
>He hesitates for a moment, before picking up the pace in his circular trot.
>"So, your new friend convinces you to run all sorts of experiments and fun tests for over a year."
>"Cancer is a very rare disease, Anonymous, we haven't had a diagnosis for this disease in..well, over 700 years, do you.."
>He pauses, hooves clicking against the sanitized linoleum, looking at you with all the gentleness he can.
>"Do you know why?"
>Of course you shake your head.
>"There are no creatures in Equestria with a Zero-sum amount of magic."
What does that have to do with it?
>"Cancer is a disease that only manifests in creatures with no magic."
>You're sweating, heat suddenly flushes up in your cheeks, neck hairs stand on end.
>"Twilight Sparkle, an Element of Harmony, A Unicorn, ran tests on you for a year."
>Tick tick tick tick tick
>"And you have no magic."
>Tick tick tick
Oh.
>Tick.

>>42372540
Was,
>You swallow a lump.
Was there any way I could have avoided this?
>You're not sure why you ask that, really, you aren't.
>The doctor quirks a brow, before shaking his head.
>"I'm afraid not," he sighs, "you might have been able to put it off until you were a fair bit older in normal circumstances but.."
But?
>"You're friends with the other elements of harmony."
>He looks down.
>"So, everytime you..well, everytime you went to talk to them or play hoofball.."
>Something falls out from under you, feeling like you're floating now through space as you sat there.
Oh..
>Didn't you already say that?
>The clock ticks away in the background.
>"I'm sorry, Anonymous."
What do I do now?
>"You can go home, if you like."
>You do.

>>42372691
More to come…?

>>42370361
>If you have long-term payments but you need bits nowww~
>CALL HAY G. WENTWORTH
>877-BITS-NOW!

>>42374038
>HI FILLY MAYES HERE

>>42370035
What’s a pony word for wiggers

>>42374902
Pebra?

>>42369283
How she get dem rangs on

>>42350692
Congrats on finishing something

>>42358427
Would mane brush

=Aces High 7=

>The ambulance ride back to the stadium was pretty normal as far as they go.
>They checked for concussions, check blood pressure, looked for bleeding and broken bones, and, most importantly, asked you a lot of questions.
>All of which you were able to answer with great ease, this wasn't your first wreck.
>No you hadn't been seeing spots before you went down, yes you could hear out of both ears, no it didn't hurt to stand and your birthday was October the second so your memory was fine.
>You know it was procedure, but that didn't mean you had to like it.
>The ambulance lets you out back at the stadium and you try to slide off.
>"Hey hey hey! Let me finish!" an EMT says before cutting the bandage he wrapped around your head.
>You don't know why, you weren't bleeding, but you can allow for some cartoonish logic in a world of colored equines.
>"Anonymous!" someone shouts.
>You look up and see Fancypants galloping towards you at top speed.
"Hey yo Fancy!"
>You walk up to greet him and he starts to look you over. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you? How many hooves am I holding up? Speak to me, man!"
>You chuckle and lower his hoof.

>>42377028
"Relax Fancy, I'm fine. I landed in a lake, that's probably why I'm still among the living."
>Fancy lets out a deep breath he was probably holding. "Good..."
>All is well...
>Fancypants then socks you in the crotch.
>WHY GOD.
>You cup your jewels as Fancy trots around you.
>"Anonymous, what in Tartarus was that stunt!? You went down like a rookie trying to reclaim your position after that idiotic spill you had at the -start- of the race! You would have been better off on the sidelines!"
>You can't respond, but someone does for you. "Don't blame him, boss. It wasn't his fault."
>Soarin' lands next to you and folds up his wings. "I saw what happened, Spitfire's wings through Anonymous off course."
>"And -why- was he in a place where he could be thrown?" Fancy asked.
"Figured...that I needed...to be with my partner, but she shot off..." you gasp out.
>Fancy mulls that over and looks around. "Soarin', Anonymous, get yourselves patched up and washed down and then get the others onboard the ship, we have a team meeting."

>>42377031
>You and the rest of the Wonderbolts sat around the conference table aboard the Albatross while Fancypants paced around it.
>Gone was his normal jovial smile, in its place was a sort of...you couldn't place the face, but it was one of quiet consideration of the day's events.
>He stops at the back of the table, right behind Spitfire, and looks the team over.
>"Well team, I reviewed the footage of the race...
>His eyes drift over everyone gathered.
>"...Fire Streak, Fleetfoot, good race. You two were together for a good portion of it and you had solid times, very well done."
>Fire streak gulps next to Fleets. "Uh...thanks Fancy."
>"Yeah, thanks sir..."
>His gaze continues to shift. "Soarin, Misty, you two were together for a lot, but Misty, you need to remember that Soarin' can't handle turns as well as you can, you were lost in the bends a bit."
>Spitfire chuckles. "That's what happens when you got wings the size of-"
>"Not right now, Spitfire." Fancy says over her.
>His eyes drift over to you and you find yourself sinking in your seat a bit. "Anonymous, I talked to you prior to this meeting but I think I speak for all of us when I say that we're all simply happy you're alright."
>A chorus of agreement echoes from your teammates and Soarin' pats you on the back.
"Uh...yeah, thanks everyone. I'll be fine in a few days."
>Fancy trots around. "And that brings us to...our leader." he says.

>>42377036
>Spitfire has her hooves crossed and a leg up on the chair. "What? I won the race, didn't I?"
>Fancy looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel for a moment before he rubs his head. "If you had -looked- at the documents you were given about the new racing structure, you'd see that your score, OUR score, depends on both partners placing well, not just one."
>She looks him in the eye. "Well Annie crashed into the lake, hard to pull a win when-"
>"Oh do not start with me, little filly." Fancy says to a hushed room. If there was one pony who could talk like that to a celebrity, it's the one holding the purse strings.
>He gets right in Spitfire's face. "-YOUR- down-draft is what pushed Anonymous off course and in an effort to catch up to your showboating flank, he expended all his fuel. THAT is why he did not finish, and THAT is why your duo was disqualified!"
>Whoa what?
"Fancy, we were disqualified?"
>Fancy looks back at you. "If one partner DNF's, the other's score is invalidated."
>He looks back to Spitfire. "In case I have to -remind- you, Spitfire. Our points are determined both by your standing in the race as well as how close to your partner you finish. And the zebra team not only finished in second through fourth, but did so with two partners in the lead. Do you want to guess what their score was compared to ours?"
>Spitfire rubs her head. "ALRIGHT I get it, me and Annie will run some more drills OKAY? We'll figure this out and you can keep earning your money and keep the ball and chain happy, alright? In the mean time, I'm not sitting here and taking this."
>Spitfire gets up and walks to her cabin.
>"This isn't over, Spitfire!" Fancy shouts.
>Spitfire slams the door and loud electronic music pulses out from underneath it.
>Fancy just sighs and shakes his head. "Team dismissed..."

>>42377038
>When times get rough, everyone has their coping mechanisms.
>Some like Spits blasted music until the ship went deaf while Fleetfoot for example liked to go out to eat.
>Fire streak fished, and Misty cooked but Soarin' and you had always been on the same wavelength and this wasn't different, you two just went for a fly.
>It took some doing but you finally got your pack gassed up and went out with Soarin'.
>"You know I'm kinda surprised we can still show our faces here after today's race." Soarin' says.
>You sigh.
"Yeah, what Spitfire did isn't going to help either our press or our team dynamics."
>"I'm more talking about one of our star members getting a DNF." Soarin' jokes.
"You got your fair share of DNF's in your early days, Wide-wings."
>"Yeah but I didn't eat a mountain of shit when I did it."
>You wince and rub your head as the two of you land on a mountaintop.
"Did I really eat it that bad?"
>Soarin chuckles and lands next to you. "Anon, you ate it, thought it was too cold, sent it back, got it again, and then ate it with more gusto."
>You roll your eyes.
"Gee, thanks best friend. Where would I be without you?"
>"Probably hanging with Fancypants and hearing him complain."
>You rub your head.
"He seemed pretty damn livid."
>"I thought he was gonna crack his monocle."

>>42377041
>You sigh and look down over the city of Zebrica. From here you could see the King's Palace, the Temple of the White Tiger, and the lake where you crashed still with emergency crews around it.
"What're we gonna do, Soar?"
>He raises an eyebrow. "Whatcha mean, Anon?"
"I mean about us. The team, Spits, Fancy. We got -murdered- today."
>He slowly nods. "Thaaaat we did..."
"We're a part of this team and we're responsible if it crashes. No more lone wolf stuff."
>"So what do we do?"
>You shrug.
"You been on the team longer than I have."
>Soarin rubs his chin. "Well...lead by example has always been the 'Bolts MO."
"So we...what? Drag Spitfire out back and beat her with soap until she plays well?"
>Soarin looks horrified for a minute. "W-what?"
>Right, different place.
"It was a joke, from a movie."
>"Right...and no. We gotta show the others how it's done, show them a way that works."
"What do you suggest?"
>Soarin looks out over the countryside. "Meet me at the Academy the day after we get back, we'll get our theorycrafting hats on and see if we can't figure out how to get a working team out of this."
>You mull it over.
>It made sense, the nest race wasn't for a little while and you had to do -something-.
>You sigh and shrug before joining Soarin' at the edge.
"Not much else -to- do..."
>The Zebrican air comes by on a breeze with the smell of harvested crops and fruits. This really was a magical land, even if your time in it was metrically fucked from the race and the crash.
"I'm glad I can remember this trip..."
>"Better than Saddle Arabia. huh?"
"Oh please don't remind me. Concussions are hard enough without their regional doctors."
>You and Soarin share a laugh at the top of the country, all while your mind races at the thought of what the two of you could possibly do.

>"Oh Captain Spitfire, thank goodness I ran into you! You'll vouch for me, right? I could really stand to disappear for a while.."
>'What seems to be the issue, Cadet?'
>"F-First Class Master Chief Big Daddy Anonymous has me on fluffer duty while he 'conditions' the vets' and-.."
>'*Sigh* Cadet Vapor Trail, how many times do I have to tell you ANONYMOUS DOES NOT WORK HERE.'

>>42377047
You picked the best time to post lol

Slice of PiE.
>"You know, Zecora, when you Wilson left on that impromptu world sex tour, I wasn't entirely set on having a zebra neighbor.."
>'Your apprehension I detected, and as such came corrected.'
>"Yeah, thanks for being a sport about that, but uh, I kind of had a favor to ask.."
>'What kind of neighbor would I be if we were not pallin', make any request, Mr. Allen.'
>"...You got any of that killer equestrian green bud on deck?"
>'This is not a whim when I say "I don't think so, Tim, not today."
>[sad toolman grunt]

>>42377986
Number 15?

>real horses are red-green colorblind
how would this affect (You)r journey in Equestria?

>>42378542
I am Anon so ponies just see me as grey I guess

>>42378842
pic rel is red-green color blindness

>>42378542

>>42378868
I dun geddit

>>42379248
>>42378868
me neither

>>42379261
???

>>42377986
>>42378469
Uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Borger

>"And then he was all; 'Implying implications, fag.' and he vanished!
>..Or he may have ran after telling Trixie to look the other way real quick-IT'S NO MATTER, TRIXIE IS CERTAIN OF WHAT SHE SAW, SPARKLE!
>"Trixie for the last time there are no humans or 'Anonymous's in Equestria."
>[Far off >'Implying.'
>There it is again!

>>42370361
no it would definetly be 'nonny freaker' exactly like freddy freaker

>>42380120
Shout the big guy test

>>42377810
Which world did wilson go to, this is important.

>>42380912
3.

>>42380932
Play warp flute

>>42380120
What boards is Anon on?

>>42381620
He's Anonymous, he's on all of them

>>42381620
/d/

>>42381754
Seconding this. He needs to be able to shitpost from the largest pool possible.

>"There. This here household lamp disguise oughta put that green varmint off my tail fer' a spell..."
>"..Sun knows mah flanks are stingin' from all those 'howdy' slaps."
>"Ah ain't even sure that's really how humans say hello, either..same with the 'good bye' teat rubs.."
>'Hello, talking lamp.'
>"Afternoon, si- ah, dang it!.."
>'*WPPSH* Howdy!'

>>42383004
Just kick him, duh

>>42377810
I prefer cake

>>42383472
Well it's a lie.

>>42358427
Bloop!

>>42383004
If I pull her hair what happens

>>42384986
He wpppsh's the applebottom lamp on and off.
Cmon man, read.

>>42385067
Yeah but what else

what would happen with pic rel in Equestria?

>>42386062
Any number of things, he's from an alternate time-line.
>Has to ensure Twilight never goes to Canterlot in the beginning (2010 'Earth' time for us) because something something future
>Is sent to ensure Spike and Rarity have a child together because something something future savior
>Is sent to stop Changeling Invasion because something something even in the future no one likes bugs

>>42386062
>wakes up in Equestria after T1 ending
alternatively...
>>42386075
>is sent to prevent Twicorn from happening

>>42386150
I like both of these

>ponies think they're sneaky
>it had started out innocently, if oddly enough
>one afternoon you noticed a window open, and a towel on the floor with a remarkably foal-shaped lump underneath it
>bemused, you watched as it slowly scooted across the floor towards the kitchen
>and then somehow, straight up the side of the cabinet and onto the counter
>and you probably should have guessed, straight for the cookie jar
>stopping a few inches short, a single blue hoof began questing around from the fringe of the towel
>as the seconds ticked by you heard muffled frustration, hoof tippity-clipping on the counter
>you felt kind of bad for whoever's kid this was, so eventually you just grabbed a cookie yourself and set it within the search area
>as soon as the appendage touched it, you heard a tiny squee and the prize was snatched inward
>this was followed by the sounds of furious nibbling
>well, this had been amusing and all but it was time to wrap things up.
Ahem.
>the towel suddenly stopped its gnawing and froze
>a split-second later it was flung up blocking your vision
>"IT'S THE FUZZ! CHEESE IT!"
>the last you detected of your intruder was frantic galloping and presumably a leap out the open window again

>if only that had been the end of things
>whatever bouts of nosiness or kleptomania were driving these ponies, you had apparently been designated the town's divinely ordained break-in victim
>sometimes your food
>sometimes your socks
>there was that one night you were about to go to sleep, when you noticed your pillow on the floor but the case was quite full and in its intended spot, with Cherry Berry's tail dangling out
>giving it a tug, you were treated to the sight of four legs bursting through the casing, which then haphazardly ran around bonking into things before getting a clear escape vector by pure dumb luck

>you would start locking up, if you weren't fairly certain all the horses would sit there looking at your house sadly when they can't get in

>>42386679
He's gonna drop those.

>>42386062
>"Cum in me if you want to live."

>>42387558
Heh

>>42387266
He has more

>>42386075
Is that I think about it, FiM had a lot of time travel/timeline plots that never really got explored

>>42331376 (OP)
What do flower horses smell like? Flowers or horses?

>>42388892
>The Fluttershy Effect
>Fluttershy, worried that her talent isn't as helpful as some of the other girls, takes to Twilight's library
>Figures a brush-up on the basics of kindness is a good place to start but gets curious when she sees a book titled 'Quick Fixes: Emergency Use Only'
>A few innocent (out loud) incantations later Fluttershy opens her eyes to find she's back in filly flight camp

>>42389614
Unicorns! No sense of right and wrong!

>>42387558
Based

WHYS THAT PONI STILL PONI PONI, RIG

>>42390756
This is Reedus country, boy. Best keep goin

>>42371269
Wh0?

>>42390756
Rig dis dig lmao

>>42372691
>Day infinity of your punishment.
>An infinite, lonely death.
>Your name is Anonymous.
>Necromancer.
>Servant to the Emperor, Lich and supreme ruler of Tambelon, Grogar the wise.
>You are a Prisoner of Tartarus!
Fucking SLIMES.
>You screech into black nothingness, kicking your foot about.
HATE YOU. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU ALL! I HATE YOU STUPID PONIES.
>You're crying, hyperventilating, limbs curling inwards after several more useless kicks and punches, cradling yourself as if you were a pill bug under a rock.
>You do this almost every day, you are so alone. So, so alone.
>Why did they put you in here? Because your beliefs are different?
>Your hands grip your knees, tears freeze on your face in the cold of the void.
>All this time and your anger still hasn't gone away, it burns and rages within you like a terrible fire. The one thing that keeps you going through your punishment, through the sorrow of your failure to your lord and master, his emminence.
I don't want to be in pain anymore,
>Your eyes hurt from the freezing tears.
Please save me, god..
>Something quite beautiful happens then, so quick that you could easily miss it. There is a flash!
>A flash of lightning, and there in the dark, a dull holy glow of sickly yellow light illuminates a vast waste of nothing.
>"Anonymous, my loyal servant," spake the voice of your god, "do you still swear fealty to me?"
My lord! Grogar!
>You weep, the corners of your mouth turning upwards.
Always and forever!
>A hoof presents to you from within the light, decaying, putrid smelling.
>You scramble over the nothing, coming to it and kissing your master's hoove with gentleness.
What would you have me do, Lord Grogar?
>Your master tells you his plans and...for the first time in some years...you smile.
>Time passes after that.
>Lets call it a thousand years.
>When your master blessed you, he gave the gift of being able to traverse tartarus, freely..enough. You crawled your way up out of the pit, the void, until you finally clung to ground.
>Tartarus is vast, filled with prisoners and their demons and monstrous guards.
>For a few hundred years, you drifted through the frozen punishments. Lands of beautiful blue hues, spattered amongst creatures who were constantly blistering. Freezing over, melting, dying. Purple, blue, deep reds and whites. The caves in the icey zones do you no good, so cold you couldn't even move.
>You dreaded it, but you moved, reluctantly, to the hot area of tartarus.
>There you could...you could do better...you could atleast move.
>Plan.
>Your soul burns each day, the pain never becomes liveable, but you make do. Your lord blessed you enough that you could avoid the illusions the other prisoners were trapped in.
>Tartarus is quite a bit like a puzzle, it's pieces move. No place stays exactly the same. But the dichotomy between hot and cold is immediate, the cold places never become hot. You are either in them or you aren't.

>Day infinity of your punishment.
>An infinite, lonely death.
>Your name is Anonymous.
>Necromancer.
>Servant to the Emperor, Lich and supreme ruler of Tambelon, Grogar the wise.
>You are a Prisoner of Tartarus!
Fucking SLIMES.
>You screech into black nothingness, kicking your foot about.
HATE YOU. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU ALL! I HATE YOU STUPID PONIES.
>You're crying, hyperventilating, limbs curling inwards after several more useless kicks and punches, cradling yourself as if you were a pill bug under a rock.
>You do this almost every day, you are so alone. So, so alone.
>Why did they put you in here? Because your beliefs are different?
>Your hands grip your knees, tears freeze on your face in the cold of the void.
>All this time and your anger still hasn't gone away, it burns and rages within you like a terrible fire. The one thing that keeps you going through your punishment, through the sorrow of your failure to your lord and master, his emminence.
I don't want to be in pain anymore,
>Your eyes hurt from the freezing tears.
Please save me, god..
>Something quite beautiful happens then, so quick that you could easily miss it. There is a flash!
>A flash of lightning, and there in the dark, a dull holy glow of sickly yellow light illuminates a vast waste of nothing.
>"Anonymous, my loyal servant," spake the voice of your god, "do you still swear fealty to me?"
My lord! Grogar!
>You weep, the corners of your mouth turning upwards.
Always and forever!
>A hoof presents to you from within the light, decaying, putrid smelling.
>You scramble over the nothing, coming to it and kissing your master's hoove with gentleness.
What would you have me do, Lord Grogar?
>Your master tells you his plans and...for the first time in some years...you smile.
>Time passes after that.
>Lets call it a thousand years.
>When your master blessed you, he gave the gift of being able to traverse tartarus, freely..enough. You crawled your way up out of the pit, the void, until you finally clung to ground.
>Tartarus is vast, filled with prisoners and their demons and monstrous guards.
>For a few hundred years, you drifted through the frozen punishments. Lands of beautiful blue hues, spattered amongst creatures who were constantly blistering. Freezing over, melting, dying. Purple, blue, deep reds and whites. The caves in the icey zones do you no good, so cold you couldn't even move.
>You dreaded it, but you moved, reluctantly, to the hot area of tartarus.
>There you could...you could do better...you could atleast move.
>Plan.
>Your soul burns each day, the pain never becomes liveable, but you make do. Your lord blessed you enough that you could avoid the illusions the other prisoners were trapped in.
>Tartarus is quite a bit like a puzzle, it's pieces move. No place stays exactly the same. But the dichotomy between hot and cold is immediate, the cold places never become hot. You are either in them or you aren't.

>>42391828
>The same is true for...the more ephemeral, strange parts of tartarus.
>Including the void.
>You found your true friends and allies in the ephemeral zones.
>First was Lord Tirek.
>Trapped in a wooden log, he was eaten alive continuously by creeping insects. Unable to move, always on the edge of death, but never able to die. Nor would his pain abate, his torture was constant.
>When you granted him his freedom, he was sore to believe you.
>That took...it took a while, but you never blamed him.
>How could you blame him when you knew exactly where his distrust came from?
>Ponies.
>That was the ice breaker.
>Talking about the horrible ponies.
>In prison, you form good bond, because what other choice is there? Trust develops.
>You meet the heir to the empire of tambelon, the Prince, Discord.
>A family reunion.
>The three of you eventually settle in a cave, filled with sharp rocks, hot air. Misery is constant, sweat unending. You all feast on the flesh of freshly killed sinners before they revive, always it tastes bitter and like sand. There is no material comfort in Tartarus. The bones and skins are salvaged to make crude furniture.
>Some next thousand years pass when you see Discord sitting outside the cave, looking up at the false sun.
>There is no sun in Tartarus, not really, just terrible fire, an unhappy glow above you that is dark red and casts black light.
>The light makes you relive your worst memories.
>Discord does not ever forget.
>He makes sure of that.
>"Hello, Anonymous," he sighs, "It's so..boring here, isn't it?"
I'd think you of all people would like the screams of the damned.
>"Hardly," he snortles, "no, I like chaos. This...it's not chaos. It's dreadfully ordered."
>You sit by him, looking across the vistas full of razorblade trees.
>Watching as political prisoners as chased up and down them by demons, slicing away until they are dead...and dragged off to who knows where else.
>"Anonymous, do you think Grogar was really telling the truth?"
What?
>"Do you think he was lying?"
No, no I don't... Discord, Lord Grogar is our friend. He would never betray us, he's gonna do exactly what he's planning to... I'm sure of that.
>Discord hums gently as his eyes bleed from the hateful light.
>"I should hope so," he turns down, looking at you with a smile, "would you like to play a game with me and Tirek in the meantime?"
Always, Buddy.
>The two of you head back inside.
>No sense in keeping time, but another few hundred years pass.
>You and your friends are wasted on fermented demon blood.
>"And I told that lousy, traitorous brother of mine," Tirek slurs, "I told him..."
>Hiccup.
What'd..what'd you tell'em..?
>"I told him he could stick it up his ass!"
>The three of you laugh.
>"Quite good, quite good!" Discord grins, "I could think of somepony better to stick up the ass of though..."
Whho...whoozaat?
>"Princess Celestia!"

>>42391910
>"Fuck those ponies!"
Fuck them all!
>Laughs all around.
>Discord is the first to stop laughing.
>"My," an ancient voice creeps through the cave, "I'm glad to see you three are having fun."
>"Oh! Oh if it isn't my good friend and pal, Grogar!"
>You fall immediately to your knees, bowing to the Emperor.
>Tirek stands for some time in awe.
>"I always wondered if it was true, that you really existed."
Kneel, Tirek!
>"..Right, of course.."
>Tirek groans, his feeble and aged body creaking with each movement as he prostrates before the Emperor.
>Discord circles around the sickly glow of your master, grinning like he was a shark in water.
>"Was I interrupting anything here?"
>"Not at all, Buddy, not at all!" Discord slithers about giggling "We were simply just passing the time waiting for you! Wonderful, beautiful, marvelous you!"
>"Still a silver tongue, aren't you?"
>Discord's smile reveals even more sharp, terrible teeth, as he sticks out his tongue- which turns silver.
>"Alwaaayssss..."
>Tirek smiles as he watches the scene unfold.
>Your heart pounds.
Master...?
>"Yes, Anonymous," his eyes stare down at you, filled with power and control, "it's time."
>In an instant he blesses you with sobriety.
>"Do not fail me, slave."
I would never, not ever again.
>Violet light begins to consume you.
>Tirek's head whips around to your direction so fast you could swear it'd come off from the force, he smiles, his black sclera shine against the glow.
>Soon there is only that light, no more tartarus, or your master and companions.
>Space folds in on itself, you feel your body spring to life, your magic and blood begin slowly to pump in your veins.
>Candle light annoints your form, your feet on creaking wood, a circle of chalk drawn around you.
Is this...a library?
>"Celestia!"

>>42386062
Where would he even get a gun?

>>42392474
He would probably make one using Ponk's party equipment (fireworks and/or party cannon)

=Aces High 8=

-Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBSelj9logI-
"Alright Soar, go for the corkscrew!"
>Soarin' banks hard and angles himself straight down, rocketing towards the ground below and rotating his body. Twin contrails of smoke spin around in a helix pattern and shoots out towards you.
>As Soarin' nears, you ignite your boosters and take off, moving off to the side for the trick to work.
>The two of you had been at the academy all morning working on techniques, the place to yourselves while the recruits were off on a flight through Ghastly Gorge.
>Soarin' had defended that you should probably be doing this with Spitfire, but you weren't ready to race with her after the crap she pulled in Zebrica...
>"Right side, Anon!"
>No time for that now.
>You speed up a bit as Soarin' pulls up next to you. With a small nod from both of you, you begin.
>Soarin' flaps his wings harder and pulls ahead, you fall in behind him.
>As Soarin' tears through the air, you make your body as streamlined as possible, letting him break the air ahead of you.
>"Okay...3...2...1...now!"
>Soarin' pulls away and you ride the slipstream ahead...
>...A whole hundred and thirty feet before you have to boost yourself.
"Oh god DAMMIT!"
>You extend your legs and skid to a halt while Soarin slows himself down
>"No good?" he asks.
"Not what we need..."
>Soarin sighs, you rub your head.
"This damn resistance barriar is going to be the death of me...
>"C'mon, let's head back and see if the eggheads have any ideas for us."
>Soarin' and you had gathered some of the flight technicians to watch you both go and record any data.
"Hopefully it'll be good news..." you say walking next to him.
>But considering your morning so far...? You kinda doubt it.

Dropped my name.
>>42393115
>You and Soarin' make it to the sidelines where the two technicians you managed to grab are sequestered.
>What were these two's names again...ah.
"Hey Bunsen, Beaker. Get any good information?"
>Bunsen hurries over to a anemometer and jots some numbers down. "Oh yes, Anonymous! We recorded those trials a myriad of different ways and gathered some interesting data."
>Soarin' peers. "What'd you find out?"
>"That Anonymous was going about two thirds as fast as he normally does!" Beaker exclaims.
>What.
>Two THIRDS?
>Your face falls.
"Uhg..."
>"It's okay, Anonymous. We think we have the answer as to why!"
>The two of you perk up. "Well don't keep us hanging!" Soarin' says.
>Bunsen points at Soarin'. "Your wings are huge!"
>Soarin' and you are left speechless for a minute while you mull that over.
"Uh...what's that got to do with anything?"
>"Oh it's simple." he starts as he checks another instrument. "Soarin's wings are large and generate lots of thrust for each flap, that's his strength in the field, being able to outlast so many other racers because of the long periods he can accelerate at."

>>42393123
>Beaker pokes his snout into a book on aerodynamics. "But it also means that his wings cover a bigger surface area and encounter more wind resistance! And for the maneuver you two were trying to perform out there, that area was too big and Soain' too sluggish to achieve the trust you need."
>Soarin' winces. "Sorry Anon..."
>You pat him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about it, if we can't go fast, we can go precise."
>You jerk a thumb towards the obstacle course with its hoops and tubes and spinny-bashy-bits.
>You never knew why those were there.
"What say we try some of our techniques out in a more complex way?"
>Soarin' smirks and starts to amble over. "So long as you promise not to get me crashed again."
>You follow and elbow him in the ribs.
"You wouldn't crash if you could keep your eyes off the cheerleaders."
>Bunsen perks up behind the two of you. "We'll be hear recording! And if you crash, we'll be able to figure out how hard in newtons!"
>You suck your teeth.
>How comforting...

>>42393155
>"Okay! Three! Two! One! Go!" Beaker shouts.
>You and Soarin' rocked down the track towards where the obstacle course was located.
>The important part of this exercise was to get as much of the course done in tandem as humanly possible.
>Easier said than done.
>"Go for th-"
"Top hoop!"
>You have to break and fly straight up through the uppermost hoop as Soarin' glides through the lower one. Dammit, have to speed it up.
"No looking at cheerleaders now!"
>"It was -one- time!"
"One time too many!"
>You dodge some trainees tossing clouds at you and roll while you descend, coming up on Soarin'.
"Shake and bake, you ready?"
>"What does that even -mean-?" Soarin' asks.
"Just follow my lead!"
>You pull ahead of Soarin' as you enter the Pole-yard.
>The Pole-yard was a lot like the obstacle in Zebrica; a forest of poles the width of a tether-ball poll spaced short distances apart.
"Stay together!"
>"Hard to see back here, fatass!"
>Shit.
"I'll call them out! Three, left side!
>You tilt your body and whizz past them.
"Follow my movements! Two right!"
>You contort and weave through the yard and come out on the other side moments later.
"Clear! You okay?"
>You look back and see Soarin' righting himself. "I'll live!"
>Damn...
>You and Soarin' weave through more hoops and take the vertical drop straight off the Academy's ledge to test your G's.
>The two of you break through the clouds and head back to Bunsen.
"How'd we do, guys?"
>"You came in last!
>You and Soarin' glance at each other.
"Last?"
>"Yeah, as in, last in the Academy."
>"Worst time ever!" Beaker finishes. "That's an Academy record!"
>You slap your palm on your face and drag it down.
>"Uhg. We were like rookies out there...sorry Anon."
"It's not your fault, Soar...I'm gonna try something else."
>You cue your pack and take off, heading south.
>"Wait, what are you gonna do?" Soarin' calls back.
>You sigh.
>Nothing pleasant...