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by Torsiedelle » Wed Jul 06, 2016 8:51 pm
by Danceria » Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:02 pm
Torsiedelle wrote:Torii managed the faintest bit of a smile. She found MB's antics amusing, and she could never ignore an animal.
She couldn’t be rude to the guests, however. She gave Sully a respective nod, then Lawson. "Torii Dimitrov. Pleasure to meet you, too. I, um...yes, I think it should be easy enough to find your rooms. I think the rabbit needs something.", She said, backing away.
She still felt empty, though MB had at least distracted her. That was worth something. She reached and scooped up the bunny in her arms. "What do you want to talk about?"
by Northwest Slobovia » Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:06 pm
Saldinado wrote:He then looked at the list which contained his name and where he will be residing. Henry then looked at Sully. "By the looks of it, we're on different floors mate, so you're gonna be on your own." He said chuckling.
Holy Lykos wrote:"Pleasure to meet you as well, Bella. My name is Venla. Legal counsel? Does the building as a whole need enough that it has someone for it on staff for the purpose?" She asked, curiously. "I'm a xenologist myself. Sadly it looks like I won't quite be able to finish what humans call a doctorate though, since my assignment was interrupted.... I do suppose you're from a different version of the universe as well? The planets of Nova Terra, Germania, and Alexandria don't ring a bell, do they?"
Danceria wrote:Damn...who did she lose in that fire...? he wondered as he went up to his floor.
by Danceria » Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:16 pm
Northwest Slobovia wrote:Amanda was baffled by Volker's hug, his disappearance, and his decision to put her in charge. But how hard could the last be? Knowing the way the Building worked, the apartment keys would simply appear as people signed their leases.Saldinado wrote:He then looked at the list which contained his name and where he will be residing. Henry then looked at Sully. "By the looks of it, we're on different floors mate, so you're gonna be on your own." He said chuckling.
Amanda glanced at the leases and confirmed Henry's statement. "Yes, you're all on different floors. And good to meet you, Henry." She then turned to Sully, waiting patiently for him to sympathize with Tori. She must have missed something... the reason for her to look so poorly and for Volker to hug her. She gave them a moment of quiet, which the two need young men filled with their own conversation.
She let them finish, then added a caution. "You'll need to sign your leases before you can go upstairs. The Building's security system only lets Residents up. We sometimes get very interesting visitors."Holy Lykos wrote:"Pleasure to meet you as well, Bella. My name is Venla. Legal counsel? Does the building as a whole need enough that it has someone for it on staff for the purpose?" She asked, curiously. "I'm a xenologist myself. Sadly it looks like I won't quite be able to finish what humans call a doctorate though, since my assignment was interrupted.... I do suppose you're from a different version of the universe as well? The planets of Nova Terra, Germania, and Alexandria don't ring a bell, do they?"
Amanda tried to make sense of the xeno's appearance, but she merely found it confusing. Biology wasn't her strong suit. She was, however, pleased that she could answer Venla's questions. "Welcome, Venla. I'm needed in my official capacity only once in a while, but when we need a lawyer, we tend to need one in the worst way. We sometimes get ourselves into the oddest forms of trouble."
"My Earth has barely mastered spaceflight; we're not starfaring. 'Germania' is an old name for a country where I'm from, and 'Alexandria' is the name of several cities. Coincidentally, my husband will be visiting one soon, but deep in our past."
Amanda addressed Sully and Henry too. "I used to live in Philadelphia, in the United States, which may mean something to you. When I left, the year was 2014 -- it should be 2016 on Earth now -- which was about 70 years after the end of vast conflict called 'World War Two'. If you're from Earth, those events may help you decide if we're from the same Earth."Danceria wrote:Damn...who did she lose in that fire...? he wondered as he went up to his floor.
He might have wondered that, had he been able to reach either the elevators or the staircase. Instead, as he moved towards them, he found himself back at the desk.
Amanda looked at Sully with sympathy. "You'll need to sign the lease first. I imagine you want to get settled, but the Building's security doesn't permit exceptions."
by Saldinado » Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:24 pm
by Holy Lykos » Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:30 pm
by Northwest Slobovia » Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:50 pm
Saldinado wrote:"Why yes Madame, I do know what you're talking about. With those words, I might conclude that we did come from the same planet Earth."
Saldinado wrote:"And to change the subject, you said that we needed to sign the least, no? Well let's start.". And with that, Henry looked over the leasing papers about two or three times before signing them. "Thank you." He said giving a faint smile to Amanda.
Holy Lykos wrote:"What were the cultures that named those things? I have a feeling if they were the names given to the planets humans colonized after their diaspora from their dead homeworld, they must have been important. [...]"United States, name reminds me of one of the nations I heard of from those wars though. Was the nation that brought about the prevalence of Human Standard over the old.... Latin I believe it was called? Still used for Human Science and on many of the colonies if I remember correctly."
by Holy Lykos » Wed Jul 06, 2016 10:02 pm
by Northwest Slobovia » Wed Jul 06, 2016 10:12 pm
Holy Lykos wrote:"Anyway, does this building have human-styled lifts? I doubt they'd have water ones like my people use."
by Swith Witherward » Wed Jul 06, 2016 10:19 pm
Giovenith wrote:Someplace
"Oh, it's no intrusion at all," Ms. Jerid insisted, pressing her hands together with a smile. "I like it when people come to visit me, they hardly do anymore. I was just helping feed dearest Jubilee's babies while she rests for the day."
At this, the soft features of the goddess' face suddenly contorted inhumanly as a hissing hack arose from her, followed shortly by a large hunk of half-digested meat pealing out from her mouth and landing in her hands. Barely a second passed after the shocking display that an impossible amount of what appeared to be flying, squeaking lizards swarmed out of her hair and covered the meat, nipping away at it for but a moment before swarming out the still open front door, leaving the goddess' hands empty.
Ms. Jerid smoothed her hair. "But it has been such a long time since we brought any other gods home for supper!"
Giovenith stared up at her mother, unsure of how to initiate the point of the emergency that she and Klaus were in. The young artist looked between the Greater Being and her blue-garbed quasi-twin, whose critical gaze was burrowing into her with cold intensity. She apparently wasn't as casual about a Nazi war god being plopped into their home by her never-home sister.
The toddler, on the other hand, took a similar attitude as Ms. Jerid. She tried pushing her meat carton into Klaus' hands while making strange coos that seemed like a cross between child's speak and lizard gurgling. Either way, it seemed friendly.
Groundtown
The Chancellor was not a very intimidating pony. She was just a bit shorter than most, had a pinch of plump, and the puffy brown and pink clouds that made up her mane and tail practically swallowed her form up if kept unchecked. Her clothing was bright and silly for an official's get-up. But in spite of all that, her expression was cold. Her eyes neither twitched nor glazed as she kept them locked on Rache, as if totally ignorant of the plainly evident fact that he could rip her to pieces in seconds. In spring or winter, a stone was still a stone.
She listened to all four speak their pieces despite never moving her gaze. Once they were all done, she allowed what felt like an eternal second to make sure that was all they had to offer, before speaking up.
"Do you really think we'd sit miles away from them for hundreds of years and never think of anything for if they ever went rogue?" the Chancellor asked plainly in a measured tone.
It was in response to Rache's assessment of the pegasi's military against the residents of her tribe. 'Not from the city' - no, he was still just like the rest. The only difference is this one veiled his condescension through concern rather than hostility. Chancellor Puddinghead did not desire the pegasi's respect though, thus she allowed the implication to hang without going into detail, no ridiculous chest beating, that was all for her to know and for them to hopefully never find out.
She didn't wait for a response and finally turned to place her gauntlet on her desk. "Moolisa is an idiot. Normally I'd let her little schemes fail of their own accord and have her own stupidity be her punishment, but I am not in the mood to have her test my limits. I will send somepony for her when things are sorted here."
SkyWishes narrowed her brow in concern and exchanged a look with her friends. This was a darker Chancellor than the insistent, bouncy eccentric they'd been dealing with so far, somepony she wasn't used to. We all worse a mask sometimes though, she supposed.
"Now what are you going on," Puddinghead marched up to Aegis, looking up at him in the eye and bopping his nose with the tip of her pink hoof. "About your spooky-spooky undead? Witches' black sorcery ya sayin'?"
"No, no," Sky was quick to jump in. "Not unicorns, like Grimmig Rache said!"
"Bah." The leader was growing sick of all her underlings futilely making excuses for the non-Earths. Pacifistic nonsense. She turned from Aegis with a woosh of her wide hat and kicked away the sitting pillows from the middle of the floor, fetching an oil lamp while she was at it. "Come with me, all of you." She bent low and opened up the hatch in the floor from whence she had first crawled when meeting the Residents.
Hazelle shrieked and ruffled her feathers with agitation as the floor door swung open and filled the room a distant but terrible screaming and roaring. SkyWishes was jarred considerably and staggered back.
"What is that?!" the girl squeaked.
"Golden Cornucopia," the Chancellor answered, turning on the oil lamp.
"Who?"
Puddinghead lead the way downstairs without answer, leaving the others little choice but to follow. For such a simple looking cabin on the outside, the chambers underneath were a vast and winding thing made of packed and fossilized dirt that made the rest of the home above seem puny. There were dark halls around several corners, and the only illumination the Chancellor's lamp. Sky looked around and folded her ears.
"I... did not know all this was down here," she said, flinching again as the screaming continued.
Onward the short elected leader went through the halls until they came across the source of the screaming: The original cannibal pony from before, all locked up in some contraption that restrained his legs, torso and head. SkyWishes almost screamed herself, thinking this was some kind torture device, before being hushed by the Chancellor.
"He is not being hurt," she insisted. "We put him here so he cannot hurt others or himself and we can investigate. We identified him, a colt named Golden Cornucopia who went missing a few weeks ago when looking for firewood. The physicians say that he is not dead, not like your undead creatures, but merely... mad? Mad. We know not why."
Sky shook her head and sniffled, feeling a lump in her chest. All of this was getting to her.
"This might all be connected," the Chancellor said, turning back to the others. "But speculation means nothing without action. If you have truly seen something, we will need to put Groundtown on a lock down and hunt down whatever is causing this vile witchery. What about you?" She pointed to Rache. "Has your city seen similar incidents?"
The trash heap
Pansy felt a mixture of sickness and intrigue at what the unicorns considered "trash." She'd been raised to value efficiency and a lack of waste, and that wasn't exactly exemplified when pulling out a three-foot long pearl, silver, and sapphire necklace from the snow that she couldn't even find anything wrong with (there wasn't - it merely had gone out of style!). Even for a relative moderate, the whole scene was fairly infuriating, but at the same time, it was hard to say that digging through the stuff wasn't interesting. Along with jewelry, clothes, and baubles, there were many old books as well, most of which had been thrown out due to some new edition coming out or too much wear and tear. Flipping through a few, much of what laid within was beyond Pansy's understanding.
" 'Synanthropy of calliphoridae and sarcophagidae in the city of El Dorado,' " she read off the cover of one heavy tome, or at least tried to, butchering most of the bigger words. She slowly lowered it to begin searching for clues again.
"Look what I found!" Cloud Duster appeared out of nowhere and shoved a hideous doll in her face.
"WAAH-!" Pansy stumbled backward from the unwelcome surprise, falling torso-first to the ground then, out of instinct, snapped out her hind legs through the air just missing Duster's face and sending the doll flying. They watched as it sailed through the air before crashing to the ground.
"Mamaaaaaa..." some broken sound box growled in a deep voice, one of its eyes popping out of its head.
Cloud Duster snapped attention back at Pansy. He pointed at her. "Baby killer!"
"What?!" Pansy wasn't amused.
"That's enough, both of you!" Willow snapped at both of them, emerging from behind a pile of silk dresses. "We can't waste time getting distracted by this stuff, we have to find Smart Cookie and protect her!"
"Why?" Pansy asked, still not entirely sure what the whole purpose of their mission here was.
"Because..." Willow trailed off, trying to think fast. "Because if Groundtown goes crazy, we'll never find the rest of the members of the traveler clan." For good measure: "Not to mention that if they do go crazy, it could mean trouble for the food supplies. And it's the right thing to do."
Pansy sighed and nodded, turning to make amends with Cloud Duster... only to find him gone again. The two whipped their heads around in search of their blue companion and found him digging at the snow near the mountain's edge with his front hooves like an excited dog. Willow sighed with frustration and pulled Pansy along to see what he was up to this time.
"What are you doing?" the artist asked, annoyance clear in his voice. "Did you just hear what I sai-"
The grey young stallion was interrupted by the distinctive scratchy clunking and rumbling of large rocks hitting other large rocks, the three flying upward to avoid stumbling into the large hole that fell away beneath their feet in the spot Duster had been digging. They listened as the rocks fell down into a deep darkness within the hole, indicating that opening was some kind of tunnel. Willow looked between it and Duster.
"How did you find this?" he asked.
The Private merely pointed to what neither of them had noticed before: Red blood and green hair in the snow, smeared toward the hole. Not too far off against the trees was a splash of dark green ghouling blood, and the slightly covered tracks in the snow around them showed some kind of struggle to the trained eye.
"Even before he dug it up," Pansy said, suddenly realizing. "Somepony could have easily stumbled down there!"
Willow's stomach lurched in panic at this prospect. A dark rocky slide? Horrible images of broken skulls and a future ended before it could begin flashed through his mind, fearing that Smart Cookie was already dead and their mission failed, but was calmed slightly by the simple fact that he still existed. Either his ancestry was some total miracle or there was still time.
"Well then, we'll just have to make sure that nopony did," he declared, ruffling his feathers slightly.
Pansy widened her eyes and shook her head. "No, don't you know what this is?" She pointed upward toward the fading peaks of the mountain. "This is unicorn territory. We don't have a token to come here like we did with Groundtown! The most the Earth ponies could do is lynch us, but there's no telling what the magicians and sorcerers would do to us if they caught us sneaking around!" Pansy's own imagination flashed scenarios of them being turned into rats, or incinerated, or bled out to make potions.
"All the more reason to go down and check," Willow said sympathetically. "What if Smart Cookie was caught?"
Pansy caught herself from outright thinking, Who the fuck cares? and felt deep shame at her fear. She had already promised Yuna that she would be of service and bring the secretary home. How fast she was to forget duty in light of threat to herself! If there were a superior here, they would surely strike her, and rightly so! Sighing, she straightened her posture and nodded.
"I agree," Duster said simply.
"But how are we going to see?" Pansy asked, squinting her eyes down at the tunnel. "The dark, it's as thick as pea soup!"
Willow looked back around at the trash piles around them to see if anything would help. He zipped off to a scattered box of jewelry and began to dig through it, hoping that perhaps he would find... aha! He picked up a light blue sapphire with etchings in it and began to slap it with his other hoof a few times before it slowly lit up like a glow stick. Luminescent gems! One of his old unicorn friends back in modern Equestria had shown them to him before. The painter returned to the others and nodded. "Let's go!"
Slowly, one by one, they eased their way down the hole and began the precarious slide into the labyrinth below.
Caer Gloriana
Riiiiiiiiiiip!
It was unmistakable and yet totally alien, the tearing apart of an unseen force as Mirare was taken up by it's new wielder; as the blade ran through the air via Chrys swining it around from back to front, the edge of the blade literally cut the air and left a gap glittering edges in its wake. Within that gap was reality - the dark, cold, caverns, and outside the gap, the garden fantasy. The illusion was exposed.
"The Bitch Witch-Queen's weapon," the false Hans hissed in a completely different voice, the edges of his form beginning to fuzz out like a static TV broadcast. "That conniving apprentice! We will wrangle her in front of Argenta's spawn!"
The same curdling voice from the nightmare the two travelers had shared the other night split force from the rapidly deforming Hans figure. The Nazi illusion melted like a candle, his whole back bending backward and his limbs liquefying until he resembled roadkill on the fading garden stones. Smooshed-Hans further disintegrated even then, this time, what was left gathering into a black cloud that rose upward as the last of the fantasy shattered, leaving the Conservator once again in her unicorn form.
Meanwhile, in the tunnel, the voices accosting Brit silenced for a moment.
"The sword," one of them suddenly hissed, this time in a much more warped and darker tone.
"Her..."
"No! We killed her!"
"It is not her."
"It is someone with kindred soul."
They all began to talk, then squabble, then scream incoherently over one another in a massive choir of horror. Suddenly, the darkness behind Brit exploded and propelled her forward the rest of the tunnel's way and into the opening where Chrys stood. Her body skidded and slid across the ground smoother than expected, revealing that beneath the garden illusion, the floor of the chamber was completely covered in ice. From behind the tunnel where Brit emerged, the darkness flooded outward and joined the smokey remains of false-Hans in gathering among the pointed chamber ceiling. The same creatures spotted before now loomed over them in full nightmarish glory, screaming and roaring at the puny residents.
Outside, Platinum was giving Clover CPR. Or, at least, what she thought CPR was, which mostly consisted of desperately but pathetically giving little taps to her friend's abdomen. The princess was yelling for her magician's sake and nearly on the verge of crying when Clover suddenly gasped, opened her eyes, and rose to her legs.
"Clover?!" Platinum gasped, scrambling up and attempting to reach out a hoof to the younger pony, but pulled back in fear at her condition. Clover's eyes had been taken over completely by the sinister green glow, and a new purple haze played at their edges. Magical static popped and zapped violently in black and purple bursts around her eyes and horn. "Clover..."
A stream of the dark magic shot out from the little unicorn causing the princess to scream and stumble backward. It was not aimed at her however, but the invisible wall between them and the travelers. The magic hit and the whole entry way suddenly glowed with the same eerie blacklight as before, before round patches blotched up upon it one by one and slowly disintegrated away the force field, leaving them free to pass. It was only then that the magic shorted out and fizzled from Clover, leaving her horn and returning her eyes to their normal state, causing the mage to swoon slightly. Platinum helped her stay standing, but was quick to turn her attention to the chaos that Brit and Chrys had found themselves in.
Something in the royal girl shifted now that the barrier was gone. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth gritted. Not anymore!
Leaving Clover the Clever to the safety of the tunnel, Princess Platinum ran into the chamber while simultaneously pulling something from her bags with her telekinesis. She began to slide across the room as her hooves hit the ice, and while doing so, pulled an archer's arrow from her bag, aimed it mid-slide, and shot a glowing arrow up at the gathering shadows before slowly to a stop next to Brit. The arrow flew up and caused the shadow creatures to reflexively twist away from its magic light, but quickly ran back over it once the glow ran out. Platinum was not deterred.
"Mirare, Chrysanthemum!" she ordered. "Everything you have, Brit! Let us exile these ruffians to whence they came!"
Smart Cookie's head throbbed as cold stone materialized beneath her cheek. She squeezed her eyes tight to take a moment to assess her pain before slowly fluttering them open. Her dazed mind wondered briefly at why a flower was growing out of her hoof. It was quickly that things cleared and she reasoned that there was no plant on her, as she twisted and moved her hoof and saw the image remain still, she realized it was colored light shining down on her.
The secretary rolled off of her tummy to her hooves and shook herself into full awareness. She looked around her and found her hat a few inches off to her side on the floor, picked it up, set it upon her head, and gave the wide rim a nice, long stroke before taking note of her surroundings.
"Figs' sake," Cookie breathed quietly in shock, backing up a bit in astonishment as her eyes were drawn upward.
The source of the flower-shaped light on her hoof was yet another stained glass window. This one, however, put the ones up above where the Princess and her mage lived to shame (not that the Earth pony was able to compare). It was at least four times bigger, roughly as tall as a three-story building and as wide as two and half cars, making Smart Cookie feel like an insignificant speck and sending her brain into a frenzy over where on Earth anypony would even be able to find that much glass. These feelings only intensified as she slowly turned around in a circle and saw that the window was just one in an equally colossal full set.
One, two... five... she counted and found six windows total, each covering the wall in the rounded - or rather, hexagonal - chamber in which she had landed. They were considerably more abstract than the windows upward in the modern palace, though not imprecise as to what was being depicted on each one. It was not so incomparable to the evolution of human art: the further forward in time one went the closer to reality artists attempted to keep to, the further backward, the more liberties taken and a larger focus on the evocation of emotion and deeper understanding than perfect rendition. Exempli gratia, the difference between that of the Medieval renderings of Jesus performing miracles on church ceilings versus the twisting runes and picture stones of the ancient Europeans, with this piece of pony history leaning towards the latter. Each window seemed to be depicting the same twisty unicorn mare figure in various positions and situations, and each had their own label written in curly letting interlaced with the complex glassy patterns.
"La Audition": The lovely unicorn figure, dressed in sparkling blue dress, stood mid-prance as many instruments floated around her and crystals jangled from her mane.
"La Toucher": The figure, this time in equally beautiful green dress, nuzzled and wrapped her forelegs around the long strands of her mane and of the long silks that trailed from her dress.
"Les Odorat": The figure now in yellow garb sat serenely, showing no alarm at her body being entangled in vines of exquisite flowers.
"Le Goût": The figure gathered up her tasteful dark red skirts in order to keep them from falling into the sparkling stream she knelt to drink from.
"La Vue": The figure's dress was as pleasantly orange as the sunset (or sunrise?) she gazed upon with wide, wondering eyes.
The last one was notably different from the other five: "À Mon Seul Désir." Keeping with the apparent rainbow theme, this one had the figure and primary color scheme as purple, and merely showed the unicorn figure draped in an abstract shimmer and the glow from her horn dominating as she looked upward with certain smile and peacefully closed eyes.
Each of the windows seemed to have light shining through them, and it didn't take the clever Cookie to realize how this should have been impossible, given she seemed to be underground. Perhaps there was a way out yet? The wonders didn't stop at the windows though. Looking beneath her hooves, Smart Cookie saw that the rounded, elevated platform that made up the large floor was inscribed with some very ancient language. The wording all ran in one line that spiraled down into the middle of the floor. Miraculously, this was actually something Cookie had researched once in her own raids of the unicorn trash, and she was able to make out the meaning behind the first few words at the beginning of the spiral.
" 'When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain,' " she read aloud, doubting it sounded quite as regal from her mouth. " 'And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain, In the shadow of the forest though she...' " The Earth pony trailed off, looking down at the long way she'd have to go to read the whole thing and decided it wasn't worth it. There were more important things at hoof - like getting out of here before whatever unicorns tended this place found her. Surely it must have been very holy. Though, from the sheer amount of dust and quiet, it wouldn't be hard to assume that nopony had been here for a very long time... no need to take chances though.
Cookie ran across the platform to see if there were steps downward and cringed - there may have once been steps, but they had broken away and there was now a steep drop into unknown places. She wasn't risking it.
"Shoot," the mare huffed to herself, pinning her ears low in worry and looking around her. Come to think of it, how had she even fallen in here? She didn't see any entry ways that she could have stumbled into. Heck, when she woke up, she had woken up right in the perfect center of the platform. Had somepony taken her here and left her? Why?
Smart Cookie closed her eyes and sighed once again in frustration. She wasn't paid anywhere near enough for this shit.
Mount Anemoi, 4,282'
Frozen flesh, biting winds, and piling snow were all legitimate burdens, but they were the minimum of what the fury of winter had to offer. All of that happened at least within the company of community where suffering could be shared and acknowledged. Such things should never be underestimated. It was out here, away from that small but potent light, where one came face to face with the true giants of sorrow.
It was easy to imagine their journey as an escape from madness itself, always just a mile or two behind them, a hunter that could never be outmatched, only outrun. He had the advantage, for these were truly his grounds; the never ending vastness of undisturbed snow and white sky looked for the life of them as if the world they knew had been little more than a drawing, concocted by some unfathomable greater mind for leisure, and they had wandered off the edge onto the blank side of the paper. Stranded were they from even the illusion of certainty or consideration from that nameless artisan now. It was just them, the hunter, and their own hunted, a three-way race to see who could swallow whom first, with that drawing - reality - home - a far, out-of-reach endgame that all had known better than to feel privileged to once they first stepped outside the outlines.
He had to be careful about alternating between flight, walking, and breaks. Flying would bring them faster towards their destination, but they were far more prone to frost, and it was easier to lose track of one another whenever the blizzard stirred the skies. They'd lost two ponies so far that way (he hadn't abandoned them - when Silver Glow and Windy Wisp went down, they'd dropped everything to retrieve them, but there was only so long they could fruitlessly search the endless frozen expanses before he was putting the rest of them at risk and they had to move on), and so it was that even at the slightest hint of storm he immediately ordered them all to the ground to trudge on foot. Trudging faced its own issues with pushing through the thick snowy build-up, but it offered a slightly elevated peace of mind for him, as it came with everypony buckling themselves to a long rope so that nopony else was blown off from the group. The trick to survival in the cold was to keep moving, but that didn't negate the need for rest, especially when the winds became too harsh even for them and they needed to barricade in order to avoid frostbite.
There was, of course, also the monsters to worry about. Their main deterrent, unpleasant as it was, seemed to have been serving them well so far: ghoulings provided no shortage of their noxious green blood when they fell, and it was in continuously coating themselves in in a packed supply the stuff so that its rotten stench would disguise their own that they were able to avoid detection for the most part. It was a known fact that the creatures relied mostly on scent and had poor eyesight, so on the rare (but always heart stopping) occasion that they came near one by chance, it was largely as simple as burrowing into the snow or clouds until it passed them by. Still, none dared to let his or her guard down, and none forgot the stories and memories of the screams ponies made when they were being filleted alive by filthy nails.
All of this was the minimum of what he had to worry about though, the basics of the march forward, simple survival even reduced to everyday habit. Fly, speed, walk, keep head count, rest, eat, drink, hide, don't look over your back, keep your wits in check, keep everypony else's wits in check. This constant checklist of struggle was daunting on mind, body, and spirit, and yet as they drew closer and closer to their ultimate destination he found himself savoring it, for even it became a security blanket in light of what he would have to face at its end. Not that he let that slow him. Not that it had to have slowed him for everypony else to still know exactly what was on his mind. Not that they'd dare acknowledge it out loud.
Except for one.
It was an exchange about fourteen years in the making. Even those who did not believe in destiny acknowledged some degree of foreseen inevitability in this life, often with no small degree of dread on their part, and the trick seemed to either be to stall it as long as possible or accept it as soon as possible so that the rest of the waiting period felt like a stall. He wasn't sure which he'd been trying, but it didn't matter now that it was here, slipping into his cloud tent and staring at his back as he pretended to sleep, grip around the cold treasure beneath his blankets tightening.
"I am so sure Star Catcher sent you off with her blessings," the visitor said coldly.
"No," he responded, still laying down. "She knows her place and keeps it well."
'Blessing' implied permission given, a chance to abstain, insubordination. Star Catcher was no insubordinate. That was the correct answer anyway; he was the Commander and she was a Lieutenant. Of course, correct wasn't always necessarily true, and truth was that he was nothing without her. He knew that, his visitor knew it more.
"The ponies have passed around that you will dent their faces if they bring up my being here from an angle of poetic irony," the visitor said, taking a seat.
"They're smart, that's why I brought them along."
"If they're smart for that, then you've come a long way."
He wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or a subtle challenge. Once upon a time, Lieutenant Star Catcher had protected him, and once upon a time, it had been the visitor here who had been one of the primary forces he had needed protection from. Not anymore. He didn't answer, making it clear he did not need nor want the visitor's approval.
"We all learn to wear masks over time," the visitor said. "But you can't just bring me on board for this and then expect to spend the whole time wearing yours. You know it is transparent to me."
"I brought you because you deserved it. Not so we could have a heart to heart."
The visitor raised his eye. "I don't want a heart to heart with you. I want to avoid absurdity by acknowledging the obvious." A moment of silence without answer. "I've heard you've done well, but right now, you are confusing being strong with being childish. Fir-"
"Don't you say it." It was a warning. Not against being called childish, he could take that. Fir... - not even that far.
The visitor refrained from rolling his eyes but the same sentiment was still clearly written on his face. "Of course. I shouldn't have bothered. You have fun with whatever all this is, I'm going back to rest." The visitor stood up, briefly scratched behind his ear with a back leg, and turned to take his leave and be a visitor no more.
The tent's owner finally stirred and sat up. "Heat Lightning."
The former Lieutenant paused and looked over his back at the now-standing leader. Little had objectively changed about him over the years. He was still an astoundingly pale thing, easily overlooked in a crowd, if not for the striking hallmark that was his mane: the candlelight yellow gently interlaced with whispers of color, shifting and flashing in the light like iridescence. They'd learned once during a diplomacy trip that the unicorns had a name for it, opal hair, and that it was among the rarest of the countless colored trends that ponies were capable of inheriting, just slightly less common than the also stunning and elusive rainbow hair (they were "connected to and influenced by the same genes," whatever the Tartarus that meant, sounded like some smartass wizardry bullshit). He had the same turquoise eyes. It was beneath the superficial traits that things had truly shifted.
Those eyes, once filled with bashful cluelessness and naivety, were now hardened and sharp, and stayed narrow as their owner spoke again. "I never wanted to make it seem like you no longer had a place in our system."
The visitor turned back around. There was a moment of silence. "I know. I never held any ill will towards you. I didn't like what they were using you for, but you were always an innocent to me. I wanted to save you just as much as Star Catcher. Just differently."
"And you were wrong," the younger stallion stated bluntly, despite the relatively kind words. "You left anyway when you lost because you didn't believe I could do it. And you were wrong."
Heat Lightning shook his head slowly. "It wasn't about believing that you couldn't do it."
"Then what?"
"I have always known when I did and did not have a place in things. I do not stay because something is ambitiously sound; I stay because I can contribute. I go when I cannot. When you rose, my era ended. And so I went." He sidelonged his gaze slightly. "It is not a matter of condemnation of you or anypony else. Things simply end sometimes, with nopony to accuse or blame. We must learn to recognize and accept this when it comes."
The younger leader's eyes and ears shifted to trace the deep whistling of the wind outside. He wasn't sure he believed that. Ponies did not look to a leader to tell them to submit to fate, but to make demands of fate on their behalf. Even if those demands were hopeless, foolish, you stood for them regardless, and pretended that it did not agonize when fate lashed back. His eyes flicked back to the elder.
"Then why did you agree to come along now?" he asked.
"Same reason you asked. Closure. Obligation."
It was a dreadfully simplistic summary of the swirling maelstrom of memory, emotion, guilt, and pride that stormed beneath both the stallions' skins - beneath the skins of every pony here and back in their city awaiting their news of either victory or demise. And that was best, in their eyes. It didn't need to be in some long, vein-popping, tear-jerking speech for them to understand and be united by it. Sometimes that which was most powerful was that which words were a disgrace to; that which only action could properly honor.
And that was good enough for both of them. The two nodded simultaneously, momentarily at a kind of peace before being interrupted by the arrival of another Lieutenant, out of breath and eyes wide.
They were soon off. Tents disintegrated, armor dawned, they took to the skies and flew in silence and cold preparation for what was to come. They all knew what they were to do, not a day in the journey had gone by where he hadn't made sure they knew it better than their own language or names. But even as he felt himself shifting into that cold place of mind, he couldn't help but spare a thought to the piece in his bag...
" 'I am not a pony,' * " the young stallion struggled to keep his voice steady with the melody. " 'Thunder in my veins, And cold rain in my brain, It's killing the flowers in my soul...' " He shook the older mare on his back in what was meant to be encouragement. It was hard to be encouraging to somepony who'd had half their face marred and a leg ripped off. "C-Come on, you taught me this one..."
She taught him so much over the few days.
" 'Grey cloud eyes, And Hurricane in my heart...' "
It was only a mile or two, then the medics, they could save her. He'd seen plenty of honored veterans before with false limbs. She was strong, she could live like that. She just had to stay awake till then.
"Come on, sing it!" he begged. " 'I am unpredictable and dangerous...' " He felt like anything but. " 'Lightning strikes my words, Searing where they land...' "
He didn't initially hear it over the screams of war and death in the distance. That song had reached its crescendo, so loud, so merciless, it blew them to pieces. And he didn't hear it. Didn't hear the sound of friend becoming object.
" 'Constant rumbling, And high speed winds, I always leave a mess... behind-' "
What about her baby?
"AH-!" He stumbled and brought her down with him, his own strength depleted. He was rapidly losing his sight and hearing. No! Don't be weak! Just a little further! She needs it!
She didn't need anything anymore.
"Major... P..." he coughed, tears choking his facing voice. Everything was a blur, and at the time, he became convinced he was hallucinating when he felt a hoof brushing his veins and a large hourglass pressed into his hoof.
We've come full circle, like precipitation.
" 'I am not a pony, " Commander Hurricane stated. " 'I am a storm with skin.' "
Mane strands stood on end as electricity filled the air before being smoothed down by helmets.
★ Madhouse ★
Role Play
& Writers Group
Anti-intellectual elitism: the dismissal of science, the arts,
and humanities and their replacement by entertainment,
self-righteousness, ignorance, and deliberate gullibility. - sauce
by Primordial Luxa » Thu Jul 07, 2016 10:47 am
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.
Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...
P2TM wrote:HORROR/THRILLER Winner - Community Choice Award For Favorite Horror/Thriller Player: Primordial Luxa
by Torsiedelle » Thu Jul 07, 2016 5:34 pm
by Ganonsyoni » Thu Jul 07, 2016 5:49 pm
by Holy Lykos » Thu Jul 07, 2016 8:49 pm
by Tiltjuice » Thu Jul 07, 2016 9:10 pm
by Danceria » Fri Jul 08, 2016 11:14 am
by Saldinado » Fri Jul 08, 2016 11:54 am
by Torsiedelle » Fri Jul 08, 2016 5:07 pm
by Holy Lykos » Fri Jul 08, 2016 5:17 pm
by Mincaldenteans » Fri Jul 08, 2016 6:20 pm
by Holy Lykos » Fri Jul 08, 2016 7:09 pm
by Ganonsyoni » Fri Jul 08, 2016 7:25 pm
by Fvaarniimar » Fri Jul 08, 2016 7:29 pm
by Torsiedelle » Fri Jul 08, 2016 8:01 pm
by Holy Lykos » Fri Jul 08, 2016 8:18 pm
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