Personification Life - IC Part VIII [open]

[Urran]

Tieria slowly made his way back to the apartment building. Where had he gone wrong in his life? Where had he not gone wrong was a better question. He hated himself and was planning to leave the building anyway, it's not like it would matter. Kei might question where he went for a few days but she would move on. She probably wouldn't even look for him. Twigs snapped under his feet and he stopped to stare up at the sky. "I am a product of man's mistake" he told himself.


Yoshi was tossing and turning in his sleep, his mind was tortured but he thought that others might think him crazy if he said anything. He thought that Gio was mad at him, Ogoti thought he was an idiot. Things weren't looking up for the young writer.


Anew decided to explore the building, she left her apartment, locking it behind her with a metallic click. Her cover story was that she was an Urranese business women here to start a legal practice, and she looked the part. Her lavender hair and red eyes made her look Urranese, nobody would suspect an Innovater.

[Giovenith]

Yoshi was tossing and turning in his sleep, his mind was tortured but he thought that others might think him crazy if he said anything. He thought that Gio was mad at him, Ogoti thought he was an idiot. Things weren't looking up for the young writer.

There was a rap-tap-tap-tap-tap, followed by a pause and another tap-tap, on the door to Yoshi's apartment home. Giovenith stood on the outside waiting, giving a few looks to the left and right, hoping that she would not be disturbing him in any way. Certain things needed to be gathered up and said, but she was also perfectly capable of waiting to do so if he so wished.

[Urran]

Yoshi was tossing and turning in his sleep, his mind was tortured but he thought that others might think him crazy if he said anything. He thought that Gio was mad at him, Ogoti thought he was an idiot. Things weren't looking up for the young writer.

There was a rap-tap-tap-tap-tap, followed by a pause and another tap-tap, on the door to Yoshi's apartment home. Giovenith stood on the outside waiting, giving a few looks to the left and right, hoping that she would not be disturbing him in any way. Certain things needed to be gathered up and said, but she was also perfectly capable of waiting to do so if he so wished.

Yoshi sat up again and groaned. Company at this ungodly hour? It didn't matter, his mind wasn't letting him rest anyway. He popped a breath mint into his mouth and got out of bed before shuffling over to his door and opening it up just a bit. It was Gio. On the inside he groaned, expecting a scolding, regardless he let her in. "Good evening G-Gio." he said softly and held the door open for her. "C-can I help you?"

[Giovenith]

Yoshi sat up again and groaned. Company at this ungodly hour? It didn't matter, his mind wasn't letting him rest anyway. He popped a breath mint into his mouth and got out of bed before shuffling over to his door and opening it up just a bit. It was Gio. On the inside he groaned, expecting a scolding, regardless he let her in. "Good evening G-Gio." he said softly and held the door open for her. "C-can I help you?"

"Oh, yeah, thank you Yoshi," Giovenith stepped inside, looking around. "I hope I didn't disturb you too much, I really won't be long." For a moment she stopped, taking a few more viewing sweeps around, before turning back around to her friend. "I just wanted to talk to you a bit about, well, calling me. I'm not mad or anything, I hardly ever get mad... just some things that needed to be said."

[Urran]

"Oh, yeah, thank you Yoshi," Giovenith stepped inside, looking around. "I hope I didn't disturb you too much, I really won't be long." For a moment she stopped, taking a few more viewing sweeps around, before turning back around to her friend. "I just wanted to talk to you a bit about, well, calling me. I'm not mad or anything, I hardly ever get mad... just some things that needed to be said."

"I can't sleep anyway, it's no trouble, tea?" He offered. And here it came he knew she was going to fuss at him for something. He loved her like he did all of his friends, he would do anything for her, but at the same time he feared that she would reject him. That was one of his biggest fears. he thought she was mad at him regardless of what she said. Mad, or at the very least annoyed. And that scared him.

[Giovenith]

"No thank you, I believe I'll be in and out," Giovenith politely declined, waving her hand away gently at the offer. "There are many things for me to do and ponder. Now, I know you must not be in the best of moods to talk about today, and I promise you we're not going to go into the whole thing, I just wanted to talk about something specific."

Content to sit cross-legged on the floor like any child, Giovenith did just that, hands in lap, and looked back up at Yoshi. The position did not seem to lower her in any kind of respect, she had merely taken it to be comfortable. "I remember what you said after we met again after your resurrection, from the war, about you wanting to help me grow up, and it was one of the sweetest, most generous things I ever heard... but the thing is, Yoshi, you do not worship me. I am not your god. And I don't believe I am meant to be. There are others who hold and keep you dear, so you may find one that you will follow one day, but I do not think it is me. On that, prayer is a way to communicate with the one you follow... when you prayed to me the first time, you were in a desperate state of mind, so that was considered understandable. But you are not my follower, nor my pantheon's, therefore performing what essentially is a form of worship is a bit... faux pas. If you know what I mean.

That's not to say you can't ever call me, but there is a huge difference between calling to someone, and praying to them. You can do one without the other, but both times you called in the form of the latter. As your friend I will hear your calling to's, but I am not your god, so you should not outright pray."

[Urran]

And he had just been scolded, but not ripped like he had expected to be. She was right, she wasn't his god and never would be. "I understand Gio. Both times I was rather...desperate, I didn't know what else to do. But I have to be honest, that time that I died was meant to be a last gift, I really didn't expect to come back. You are my friend, not my god, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like i saw you that way." He smiled softly, "Anything else you care to address?"

[Giovenith]

And he had just been scolded, but not ripped like he had expected to be. She was right, she wasn't his god and never would be. "I understand Gio. Both times I was rather...desperate, I didn't know what else to do. But I have to be honest, that time that I died was meant to be a last gift, I really didn't expect to come back. You are my friend, not my god, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like i saw you that way." He smiled softly, "Anything else you care to address?"

"I know it was, and I am grateful for the dying gift," with that, Giovenith smiled, got up, and hugged him tight before releasing. "Feh, I'm a great big coddler, I know. I need to fix that. But I just wanted to let you know that we all do really embarrassing things sometimes, and as long as we're sorry and we learn from them, that's okay by me. You going to be okay now?"

[Urran]

Yoshi hugged her back. "G-Gio, I'm scared to be honest" he admitted, screw what she thought, if she loved him this couldn't change that. "I-I've been having nightmares and it makes me scared to sleep. And I've been getting angry, something I never do..wh-what's wrong with me?"

[Giovenith]

Yoshi hugged her back. "G-Gio, I'm scared to be honest" he admitted, screw what she thought, if she loved him this couldn't change that. "I-I've been having nightmares and it makes me scared to sleep. And I've been getting angry, something I never do..wh-what's wrong with me?"

"Nightmares, you say?" Giovenith tapped her chin, humming. "Well, dreams quite the odd things. And if they really make you too scared to sleep, that can't be too good for your health... alright."

She stood up more erect, and put her hands behind her back. "Would you like to talk to me about them?"

[Urran]

Yoshi shook his head. "N-n-no. I would rather not..n-not yet at least. I-I would like to get some rest now. If there's ever anything that I can do for you don't hesitate to ask" He said with a bow.

[Giovenith]

Yoshi shook his head. "N-n-no. I would rather not..n-not yet at least. I-I would like to get some rest now. If there's ever anything that I can do for you don't hesitate to ask" He said with a bow.

"Likewise, compadre," Giovenith patted her friend's shoulder, smiling with both concern and parting sincerity. Poor Yoshi went through a lot, but has turned out better than many others despite his flaws, in her opinion. She had confidence whatever this struggle was, he could overcome it. "I'll be on my way, then." With that, she left through the door.

[Urran]

Yoshi smiled and went back to bed. He thought that Gio was going to rip him for fighting with Octavian, he was happy when it only turned out to be about prayer. He loved that kid. Within a few minutes he was back asleep, it was a dreamless sleep.

[Cerillium]

The birds should have been a good indication that dawn was forthcoming. Chrys and Hans, deep in the underground and windowless Chaos bar, couldn't hear them.

That bar is an interesting subject. One would like to think that being underground and windowless would get on the nerves of the fire marshal. Certainly having only one set of stairs might be of concern should a fire break out. However, if the fire marshal had ever bothered to stop in, a door would appear right before he reached the end of the stairs. It wouldn't lead to anything but would be marked with a brightly lit exit sign. In reality, in the event of a fire, the patrons' souls would find themselves in that great nightclub in the sky. We don't mean Heaven.

The writer jests. There really is an exit door down there. It doesn't lead where you'd expect.

At any rate, the sun climbed from behind the eastern mountains and the birds picked up their chorus. The fish market came alive as unladen boats pulled away and workers set the still-flopping delicacies out for selection. Local chefs and grocers browsed and chose their fish meat for the day. Elsewhere the produce trucks from the agricultural district arrived with a fresh bounty. These too were unloaded as the sun crested the tops of the highrises and began her journey upward.

Ogoti rose with the sun. Her light would find him on the building's front stoop. It was an unseasonably warm morning and he sat on the concrete steps and sipped his steaming coffee.

The sun didn't shine in the Lair and Fram, with a belly full of grapes and wine, snoozed on his throne. Klaus and Minerva, unaffected by the timezones in the normal dimension, still chatted in the garden as if time hadn't passed at all (because it hadn't). Klaus' men were wide awake and very active however, as were Atosh's and Swith's. Gossip and rumors were spreading fast in their ranks and all of it pertaining to someone who had arrived at dawn without preamble or heralding. Things were not happy in the Chaos camps, and soon things wouldn't be happy in the Luxan and Branriech camps. It would eventually reach the ears of the Giovenith camp and all others with supernatural abilities. Some would shrug simply because they'd never heard of the entity. Others would chew their nails nervously. Still others, like the mighty Atosh himself, would pack their bags and take a quick vacation in Majorca - the one that was several dimensions over and not inhabited.

Bane had come to town.

[The BranRiech]

As morning arrived, Bran and Rylli were in bed, curled around the other, finally out of the clothes they'd been given the other day, and then had those ones removed to give them something even worse than that. It had been a good night, with all the activities one would expect, but none of the details given, because for anyone past the 4th wall, the lights simply shut off.

Now though, their alarm went off and the two started to wake up.

[Torsiedelle]

By last night, Torii had fixed the wiring on her old TF gun, as well as showed her sister how they should look, and out put it away. Katya would still forget it later, but at least the bed was fixed...

And while the Elder Sister was still sleeping soundly, Tora got dressed up in a skirt and her jacket, checked her list of things to start doing again, and grabbed her guitar, then ran out into the hallways for another day.

Meanwhile, the Dunmer soldiers had dispersed, but several would sit around at random areas, looking for a quick odd job, and Dimitrus had retired for the night in her new personal apartment.

[Giovenith]

Mornings were pretty hard to warm up to sometimes, what with being sleepy and all, but if you could summon up the strength to manage to hop out of bed, they were quite an enjoyable thing to experience. The air felt clearest and freshest, the environment at it's most gentle. Birds were hurrying to get out their best rehearsed chirps before the noise of the busy day had a chance to interrupt them, the sun was warm without being harsh, the diamond-cloaked dew cool without being sharp, and for some reason, to Giovenith, the natural grogginess living things experienced when first waking up in the morning seemed so... innocent. Like they were all on the same level.

These were, of course, exactly the kinds of things the godling kept close to her heart. And considering that she was no exception to the hard morning rule, the gems of such a lovely experience were all the more rare, the more special to behold. This morning though, she had managed to stir herself, decided that a walk would be good for the soul, and headed out into the city to enjoy the silent song of new day.

---

Collab between NA and Gio. Sterling = Property of New Aksarben; Willow & Black Jack = Property of Giovenith

The good times, bad times, silly times, horrifying times, and every little skip in-between of the apartment dwellers raged (a bit less than) blissfully on. TF guns were built, love was had, supernatural whispers passed around, and all else that made the residents' worlds spin round.

But twist a way through the elaborately woven quilt of time and space, past the second star to the right and to hoo-ha-high with it's neighbors, on a lush green world, through the twisting clouds of a friendly spring day, and down into a very different land from Bielefeld below, one may or may not be surprised that the activities of the alien residents there did not differ quite so much from that of 42nd Subabsurdus Street. Well, certainly it was a bit more quiet, and with far less mass devastation (though it wasn't exactly a stranger to the citizens here either) and grimness, but antics were being stirred nonetheless. And, like anything typical, it all began in a small town down near the country.

Brown lines of dirt formed together in an intricate little muck doodle at the tip of a grey hoof, only to be quickly swept away for a new drawing to take it's place. This continued for some time as squiggle met squiggle, and lines connected into shape. The owner of the hoof could go on forever making more and more designs each different from it's predecessor, although he would prefer not to, since it had already felt like forever about twenty minutes ago.

Willow Streaks groaned, swept away his latest design with more fervency, then turned his head toward the purple and yellow unicorn with a notable, half-hearted grimace. It wasn't such an uncommon expression to catch the grey pegasus-pony sporting, but any who knew him for long enough had learned to spot the differences between "regular neutral annoyed with the world" and "annoyed at a particular target" in the surprisingly versatile shades of frowns and poker faces he was known for.

"... Sterling," said Willow shortly, hopping into the air briefly to neatly glide on his wings over to the side of his unicorn friend. "You've been at this for some time..." He emphasized it like it was an understatement. "Do you think at some point you'd care to share what it is you actually brought me out here for?" He could have been working on a commission right now.

Sterling blinked, and shut his mouth. “Oh. Sorry. I was rambling again, wasn’t It?” The large purple unicorn adjusted his fez for a few moments as he collected his thoughts again. His mind did tend to wander when he got to talking. He had started speaking about what he had asked Willow to join him for, but Sterling had somehow gotten onto the subject of dragons. Which was odd, considering that the two subjects had little to no relation to each other. Sterling coughed and looked over to his Pegasi friend before continuing.

“Well, I found a strange book recently, with rare magic spells in it. Ones that require more than just my magic. I need some ingredients for it to work. But it should do something interesting!” Sterling paused for a moment, trying to remember the ingredients before he started talking again. “I can’t remember exactly what it said it would do. The wording was very vague. It said something about teleportation, and…. well, I strangely can’t remember what else.” He shrugged, looking around a bit more.

“But whatever this spell does, it should be very fun. Its not often I can find a spell that doesn’t require tons more magic than I can use easily that does interesting things…. Now what were those ingredients again?” He was more talking to himself as he tapped his chin with a hoof. “Hm…. I believe it required…. some manticore fur, dragon spit, a few gems, volcano dust, and liquid ebony…. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find those right?”

Willow flicked an ear. “I believe you can find most of those at the market.” He never quite understood magic, even though it was completely unavoidable when one lived in Equestria. Willow understood how it worked, he’d seen it plenty of times, but it had always confused him just how and why certain things about it worked the way they did. What great forces sat around in a circle one day and laid down the laws for countless future generations? Questioning it lead to far too much brooding however, so the pegasus kept these questions to himself.

“That’s good. It would have sucked if we had to go searching for those ingredients out in the wild. Especially getting manticore fur or dragon spit. But anyway! Let’s get to searching!” Sterling said, giving a grin to Willow. He, as a unicorn, obviously understood magic quite well. He had, after all, gone to school to learn it. So he understood why some of these materials were needed. all had magical properties, or were excellent conductors of magic like the gems were.

But Sterling did find it odd that this spell required more than just magic. Most could be performed by unicorns with plenty of training or skill in magic, and he really had not heard of spells that needed something other than magic to use successfully. Well, excepting spells that were used on a target like another pony or an apple. And those were mostly spells that wore off after a while.

“So you said it was about teleportation, then?” asked Willow, stretching out his wings and turning a smidge in preparation for heading off to gather aforementioned ingredients. “Seems big. It’d have to be somewhere fairly inconvenient to simply walk or fly to for that. Where did you have in mind?” Mentally, the pegasus was counting the bits he had in his pocket, calculating if they’d have enough for this spell of Sterling’s. Some of the things didn’t seem so entirely commonplace for a market, like the liquid ebony (which, off the top of his head, Willow couldn’t even think of if had a proper everyday use), but it certainly wouldn’t be an epic quest. It’d probably wind up being an average day in Ponyville.

“Yeah. I believe it would allow us to create a sort of portal between two areas that we could open with a bit of magic. So we could visit somewhere we want quickly just by mixing these ingredients together, and then focusing some magic on it to create a portal! We could visit places like Canterlot, the more distant parts of Equestria, and even other parts of the world!” Sterling spoke happily as he began trotting around the market in search for the various ingredients.

While some were rarer than others, most ingredients should be easy to find in the market. Especially in the stalls that had things from other parts of Equestria. While Ponyville was still quite the small town, it was close enough to Canterlot that traveling traders tended to pass through often. Some even chose to stop in the town to make some money before having to compete with the other traveling traders in the Capitol.

So Sterling wasn’t too worried about finding the ingredients. The Liquid Ebony might not be as easy to find, considering it really never seemed to have a use to ponies, but there were always people trying to sell it as a ‘miracle elixir’ after all. Trying to pass off something useless as something great wasn’t all that unusual for any world. But at least Sterling would have a use for the liquid ebony. It seemed to be the primary catalyst for the spell, based off of what Sterling had read. So He wanted to find that first, before the other ingredients.

“Hey, Willow? Have you see any of the ingredients yet? I have not noticed any yet…. But I may just be looking in the wrong places, or something….. I especially want to find the Liquid Ebony. That might be the rarest of the ingredients, due to the fact no use has ever been found for it that I know of.”

“I saw gems on sale a few paces from here,” said the pegasus, landing back down on the ground, having used flight to get a better look. “And I believe I found a place where we could obtain Liquid Ebony…” Here, he frowned. “But you’re not going to like it.”

Toward the edge of the marketplace was a small caravan set-up that had been pitched there on the grassy edge of the road for about a week. It wasn’t that glaringly noticeable (though one could certainly do without the gaudy neon lights when approaching), but had been attracting Ponyville citizens nonetheless, possibly due to the annoyingly loud and upbeat voice of its owner.

“For a limited time only!” boomed a colt’s voice through a large cone. “The finest cure-all in all of Equestria, made from a secret family recipe passed down since the youth days of Starswirl the Bearded himself!”

The colt Earth pony, dressed in snappy little black suit and top-hat, was atop his makeshift stage in front of the caravan and spewing the same nonsense he had been since he had got here. His mane was slicked down with a hoof-full of grease as grimey-looking as his smile, a deeply bent line that sang of fair-weather kindness and the willingness to say just about anything for a quick bit of bits. “Uncle Black Jack”, as the sign painted on his wagon so proudly announced, claimed to be in the marvelous business of handing down a one-of-a-kind elixir that cured everything from faint magical unicorn auras, to headaches, to colds, to loose pegasus feathers, to a weak harvest, and conveniently, anything a pony from the crowd happened to ask about.

It was all poppycock, of course. Everypony knew it, even if there was the occasional gullible hopeful (“sucker”) out there bought a bottle out of what was most likely desperation. Willow, personally, wanted nothing more than to give the wooden prop keeping the whole miniature circus in place a gentle nudge, then smile sardonically as Black Jack’s obnoxious scam went racing uncontrollably into the sunset. But luckily (alas?), the professional artist knew better than that.

“He’s claiming the whole Liquid Ebony thing comes from his family name,” Willow whispered quietly to Sterling as he lead them over to the small crowd that had gathered, probably for their own amusement. “Black Jack? Get it? Ha. I can give you the bits for it, but you probably have to be the one to go get it. We’ve already exchanged pleasantries, if you know what I mean.”

Willow Streaks had never been kind to phoney traveling miracle-workers like Black Jack. Not now, not ever. Magic was a part of pony life, buying into nonsense was not.

Rows and rows of pretty black bottles had been set out on a velvet-imitation cloth over a table for all to admire. They were made of decoratively twisted glass and each cork-sealed with a pretty ebony ribbon tied around the bottleneck for good measure. One could clearly see the thick, pure black Liquid Ebony inside, waiting to be used for… whatever. Sterling had been right, other than this spell they had just so happened upon, there was just no true known use for the greasy black substance. As far as ponykind knew, it was only good for scams and making a mess. As far as Sterling and Willow knew, this spell would probably be the only time either of them would have any use for it in either of their lives.

Sterling sighed heavily. “I think I have enough bits. I’ll try to talk this joker down to a more reasonable price then what He’s asking for. I seriously cannot believe that anyone would pay that price for something that’s known to be basically worthless… And that he would ask ponies to pay that much….” He shook his head in disappointment. Partially that he would have to speak to the obvious con-pony, and that he might have to pay an exorbitant price for basically useless Liquid Ebony. Sterling couldn't decide which was worse.

The tall purple pony trotted through a break in the crowd of (mostly snickering and chuckling) ponies, up to the con-pony called Uncle Black Jack. Using a bit of magic to readjust his fez before speaking, Sterling looked up at Black Jack before addressing him. After all, why look scruffy and disheveled when confronting a con-colt and attempting to get him to sell you something worthless for a better price? But then again, Sterling’s mane always looked like he had bedhead no matter what. So it was a moot point trying to look nicer for him, usually.

“Sir. I would like to purchase a bottle of that Liquid Ebony that you’re selling. But that price is too much. Its Liquid Ebony. Not something useful like medicine and shampoo. Asking so much it is almost criminal.” Sterling omitted the fact that he actually did need it as the catalyst for a spell. Telling Black Jack that would just play into the con-man’s hooves and make it difficult to get a good price. “So I will offer you two Bits for one bottle. I believe that is a fair price for Liquid Ebony. The bits are mostly for the bottle anyway, seeing as it would have more use than the Liquid Ebony.”

“Useless?” snapped the con-pony, suddenly fixing his attention down on Sterling from his stage. “Why that’s the biggest hooey I ever did hear ‘round these parts! I tell ya now sonny, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granny three times removed, Moolisa Royale Featherbed North Ala’Ding Dong Marie the Sixteenth was no liar when she used this here exact recipe to save all of Canterlot from an entire pack of Timber Wolves!”

Timber Wolves didn’t gather near mountainous-based areas like Canterlot.

“I said it once, I said it three times, I said it fourteen, I’ll say it again!” Black Jack bantered on in that annoying sales-pitch voice so characteristic of his trade, kicking up and twirling a bottle from the table extravagantly into his hoof while doing so, before wrapping his other front leg around Sterling’s shoulders as if they were the greatest of pals. “The way I see it, you’ve got a problem, I’ve got a solution, badda-bing-badda-boom, we got ourselves a business! Watch and learn, my compadre!”

Without even waiting for a response from the unicorn customer, Black Jack was already on the other side of the stage, ripping down on a rope that dropped down the large curtain background that had been behind him. The attempt at a fancy unveiling revealed a table that held several common household items.

“You see these little doo-hickies?” Black Jack held up two different halves to a pair of scissors in each of his hooves. “Never liked them, break all the time, and you have to go all the way out and buy another pair! Oh no! Right? WELL NO MORE! Just add a little miracle…”

The con-pony immediately popped open a bottle of Liquid Ebony with his teeth and cheerfully poured it onto the scissors, before smashing the two pieces together, apparently expecting them to stick.

“Good as new!” Black Jack held up the dangerous, messy contraption with a wide, proud smile. “Not only that, but Uncle Black Jack’s One-of-a-Kind Elixir, also accident-proofs your good-as-new pair of scissors! They’re safer than ever, why, your little Billy at home could run around the house with them and he’d be cozy as a dove!”

One of the scissor halves slipped from the con-pony’s hoof, falling straight down and embedding it’s blade deep into the wood of the stage.

“MOVING ON!” Black Jack tossed the other half aside callously, speaking quickly before anypony had time to point out the obvious. He zipped along to a fish bowl. “See little Swimmy here?”

A goldfish swam in little circles cheerfully in it’s bowl, before leaping out of the water to jump through a small hoop attached to the opening of it’s tank. The trick earned a few ooo’s from several members of the audience, and was probably the only genuinely impressive thing Black Jack had presented thus far.

“Happy as the sunshine! But regular old water can be so boring to look at, right? NOT ANYMORE! Just add miracles…”

The Liquid Ebony poured into the fish bowl, the strange substance actually settling on top of the water rather than mixing in. It retained most of it’s icky black appearance, but for the ponies who were closer upstage, a few iridescent colors did begin to appear on top of the otherwise unsavory mix.

“Can you paint with all the colors of the Liquid Ebony?!” cheered Black Jack, as if his point had been made.

Inside the bowl however, the fish attempted once again to jump through it’s little hoop, only to wind up covered from scale to scale in the slippery Liquid Ebony. The tiny thing twisted away from the bowl, landed on the stage floor, and began to flop and gasp dramatically.

“Why, cruel world?!” chirped the fish’s high-pitched, miniscule voice, whilst it reached a fin out despairingly. “Whyyyyyyyy…?!”

It then rolled over and died, earning several gasps from the audience, and one faint cry of, ‘Fish murderer!’

“... Uhhhh,” Black Jack stared at the fish, having not expected such a thing to happen. “... MOVING ON!”

It said something about a con-pony who could keep his show running after having inadvertently killed a goldfish with his own product, but Black Jack was truly a professional at what he did.

“And now for the final demonstration!” Black Jack zipped over to a small mass covered by a red and white checkered napkin, before nipping said napkin with his teeth and unveiling: “A triple-fudge ten-cherry pie! Fresh out of the oven! Absolutely delicious! What could possibly make it better? Miracles!”

With that, the pie was instantly smothered in the highly unappetizing Liquid Ebony poured straight from the bottle, covering the crust completely in syrupy pitch blackness.

“Mmmm! Would you look at that beauty? Blue-ribbon material!” praised Black Jack with the brightest of smiles, saying aloud the exact opposite of what was on everypony’s mind. “Yummy, better watch out grandma, you’ve got some competition! Yessiree, good sir unicorn, we here at the business always love a healthy skeptic like yourself to give us a chance to prove our fine product’s absolutely miraculous worth! Put aside your concerns, as I think you’ll find that Uncle Black Jack’s One-of-a-Kind-”

“Eat it,” said Willow.

“I beg your pardon?” Black Jack snapped out of his happy salesman mode, turning down to the pegasus in the crowd.

“The pie,” said Willow, expression deadpan. “You said that stuff tastes good. So eat it.”

“... Eh heh,” Black Jack chuckled nervously, scanning the crowd for any expressions that may have seconded the challenge. He found plenty. “Aherm, of course! I am a quite rumbly, actually, I haven’t had a bite to eat all day! I’d be happy to eat it…” The con-pony stood there.

“... Well?” insisted Willow, swiveling a hoof impatiently. “Go on!”

“O-Of course!” Black Jack struggled to maintain his previously confident smile, nervously looking at the pie, then at Willow, then back at the pie again. Slowly, he brought the Liquid Ebony-covered pie to his mouth and took a reluctant bite into it, slippery black gunk and all.

“S-See…?” the con-pony mumbled through full mouth. “It’s-It’s, goo…” A lie, however, could not stand long against an immovable reality. The Liquid Ebony tasted downright toxic, and Black Jack was barely two words into his second sentence before he immediately began spewing out the horrid taste from his mouth off the left side of the stage.

Disgusted, the crowd of ponyfolk, aside from Sterling and Willow, quickly dispersed to continue on with other activities, with more than a few grumbles and pointed ‘Boo!’s toward the inherent disappointing outcome of any such scam.

Willow waited patiently for Black Jack to stop coughing before speaking again. “So about that two bits offer my friend had.”

“Uggh, I thought I told you to stay the Tartarus away from my show, ya nasty little bits-burner!” Black Jack sneered at Willow, wiping the last of the Ebony from his mouth. “You two made a chump out of me!”

“Mmm, perhaps. Now, about our offer?” Willow tilted his head to the side. “You do want our money, no?”

“Read the sign, PiClopso,” Black Jack pointed at a painted sign near the table holding the Liquid Ebony. “Forty-five bits per bottle, that’s how I roll.”

“Forty-five bits?! Two already is practically high-path robbery!”

“Miracles ain’t cheap, kid,” Black Jack dusted off the top of his top hat nonchalantly.

“Maybe not miracles, but a bottle of black gunk is.”

“Oh, you wanna haggle? Fine, forty.”

“Two!”

“Thirty-nine!”

“Two!”

“Thirty!”

“Two!”

“Twenty bits, and I’ll throw in the dead fish!” Black Jack suddenly smiled brightly and excitedly, as if Willow might actually take this as a pretty good bargain.

Willow narrowed his icy blue eyes. “Two.”

Black Jack growled, “Fine! You punks win, two.” It wasn’t like the defeated con-artist was rolling in anymore business anytime soon. “Gimme the money, take yer bottle, and get out of my sight.”

Willow nodded to Sterling, who promptly reached a hoof into his saddlebag and pulled out two coins. Sterling’s horn was covered in a light golden glow as he used a bit of magic to levitate the bits over to Black Jack. He followed that up with a bit of magic to levitate one of the bottles of Liquid Ebony into his saddlebags.

“Thank you for the Liquid Ebony. Maybe you should try something a bit more useful the next time you try to sell things to ponies.” He said with a small smile. He was still chuckling a bit from the honestly ridiculous attempts Black Jack had made at selling the gunk to them. Especially the part where Willow had dared him to eat the pie, and the colt had actually done it.

Sterling turned his head to look over at his friend, and then said, “Well, what should we find next? I think we got the most difficult ingredient found, so the rest should be relatively easy to obtain.”

“I believe so,” said Willow.

Black Jack quietly imitated Sterling in a high-pitched voice before retreating to his wagon, and the two friends left him to seethe in peace.

The other ingredients, as to be expected, were fairly easy to obtain (especially relative to the whole fiasco with Black Jack), and the two friends soon found themselves ready to prepare a spell. According to the instructions, each ingredient had to be placed into a small cup one after another while the Liquid Ebony was poured in continuously, meaning both colts had to work in tandem to prepare it properly. The two had already decided on Canterlot being a good choice to visit, the instructions dictating that they both merely had to keep their intent clearly in mind after preparing the spell. It all seemed quite simple enough.

Of course, things never stayed simple.

Rather than risk unknown consequences to either of the ponies’ homes with a spell they were not sure how would react, the two had taken the spell to the public park to complete. Unicorns performing spells out in the field was not an uncommon occurrence, so no one bothered them with their task or questioned it. It was the regular happenings of Ponyville, Equestria.

Another visitor to the park though, a tiny chipmunk by the name of Chippers, had recently scurried home to his tree after visiting a very lovely yellow pony friend of his nearby, and was looking forward to chowing down on some delicious nuts. Chippers perched on a twig overlooking Sterling and Willow, little chipmunk brain ever so slightly amused at the activities of ponykind. Ponies always made things so complicated, why could they not just enjoy a few nuts like the rest? So silly. Whilst distracted by these thoughts however, Chippers unfortunately lost grip on the nut he had half-chewed, then squeaked in despair as it toppled to the ground, down, down, down, toward the mixing cup….

And right beside it, just missing the opening.

The two ponies exchanged a confused look over the nut.

“Huh,” puffed Willow. “How pecu-”

They had stolen his nut! Chippers immediately went on the offensive, screeching a battle cry as he flew down from his twig perch and landed on the pegasus’s head, beginning to chirp erratically. Needless to see, the two were jostled by this sudden random chipmunk attack, and were too busy panicking to do as was instructed of them and concentrate on going to Canterlot.

This did not stop the spell. A glow steadily formed from the cup, unnoticed by the panicking ponies, which suddenly burst out with a loud CRACK. The light engulfed them in but a moment, and the next thing any of them knew, Sterling Venture, Willow Streaks, and Chippers the Chipmunk, went crashing from mid-air into a local Bielefeld dumpster.

---

CRASH!

Giovenith jumped, startled, at the unexpected and loud metallic crushing sound to her right. She turned around, hearing that it had come from a dumpster alley she had passed just a few moments ago, and carefully approached the opening again. Was it a homeless person? An animal? It had sounded pretty heavy... her big purple eyes slowly peaked over the edge, not daring to go any further.

Garbage rustled about, as Willow swam his way past filth, poked out of the lid, and promptly crawled out and fell to the ground. "Oh, bleck..." He nearly retched, quickly and squeamishly shook some unknown good substance off of his hoof. Seeing that it hadn't entirely fallen off, he tried scraping against the ground. "Sterling, what the Tartarus happened?! You didn't say it was going to throw us into filth!"

Giovenith's heart exploded a little bit upon seeing a real life talking pony. With wings. Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god...

[Tiltjuice]

Adjusting to timeskip...

"Sure," Chrys replied simply. Picking up her beer and leaving a few bills borrowed from Dora on the table, she nodded at Hans, and was gone.

---

Dora turned over and stared at Katya. She wished she remembered how to sleep that soundly. The commotion of Tora leaving had woken her up.

And she was still underdressed.

[New Aksarben]

Sterling scrambled out of the dumpster in a very similar condition to Willow. He shook out his mane and brought a hoof through it quickly to check- "By Celestia! My Fez!" The purple unicorn proceeded to jump back up and look into the dumpster for his favorite, red head-wear. Little bursts of magic came from his horn as he shuffled around the contents of the dumpster and searched for his fez. He dearly loved that hat. He had found it among the books of his favorite library of Canterlot, and had, after a week of no one claiming it from lost and found, claimed it for his own and had been wearing it ever since.

He just had a tendency to loose if from time to time, which could get annoying as he rarely went outside without the fez on his head. Or more like ever. If any of his friends had been asked about if they have seen Sterling without his trademarked hat, they all likely would have said "No".

After shuffling through the garbage for a few moments, Sterling managed to find his fez. He shouted out in joy, and promptly levitated it to rest just behind his horn, as he plopped back down to sit next to Willow, with a smile on his face. "Now what did you say? I kind of forgot as I was looking for my fez. Sorry about that. You know how I get when I'm missing my fez. One track mind and all that. And I'm rambling again, aren't I. Sorry about that." He had said all that without even a breath.

So Sterling took a very, very deep breath, and started using his magic to levitate the grime off of Willow. "Oh, right, you were asking, 'What In Tartarus just happened'. Well, I really don't know. We must have gotten distracted when that chipmunk appeared in the middle of the spell. So I have no idea where we are, how to get home, nor what we just landed in."

[Tiltjuice]

Anew decided to explore the building, she left her apartment, locking it behind her with a metallic click. Her cover story was that she was an Urranese business women here to start a legal practice, and she looked the part. Her lavender hair and red eyes made her look Urranese, nobody would suspect an Innovater.

"Buenos días," said the salesman, looking up. Thoughts of how to talk Anew into signing up as a model drifted through his head, followed by vague daydreams of a performance bonus at Christmas, or possibly a raise. "So many interesting people here, are there not?"

He paused, about six inches away.

[Fennec]

A warm hand caressed Volturius’ face. Tipper’s fingertips traced the frown that had formed on his brow before brushing his temple to settle on his cheek. The static in their tether troubled her more than even his blanched knuckles and angry hiss. It brought goosebumps to her naked flesh.

“Listen. Listen! Pain becomes pleasure, beloved. No memory can pain you if you embrace it. To deny it is to deny the aching behind it. To do that is to overlook the perfection to be gained from accepting it. No act, no savagery, no crime, no lament and no sorrow is so great that the Prince of Pleasure can’t use it to hone your mind. Distraction is of Tze. Denying it while serving is the mantra of Khorne’s pissants. Festering in it is the craft of Nurgle.”

She placed her other hand on his opposite cheek but she lacked the strength to move his head. The ropy muscles in his neck held more power than her tiny arms could ever hope to overcome. Instead, she allowed her touch to become an extension of her heart. It was forceful and fierce, a manifestation of her pride in him.

“You listen to me, Lord Volturius, Chapter Master. I am Calista of Usseio. I am a Seer. I know my craft. That boy, Zion? The one who Hears just as I See? He knew. Maybe you don’t realize it, but I know pain. I remember. I carry painful memories. I recall what occurred when my previous mate died. I see things and recall things and hear the hydraulics as that fucking menace mowed them all down. I am Calista of Usseio, and I allowed that pain to blight my thoughts until all I knew was that sound. Tipper: I named myself after the thing that tore my soul and crushed my heart. Now I bear that name with better understanding. I am Tipper. I overcame that thing. I bear the sound of death because I didn’t know what it meant to live until I’d endured that crucible. My pain is my fuel.

“Are you listening, beloved? Are you hearing?” Her prismatic eyes bored into his and her face became stern despite her gentle beauty. She would never have dared to challenge any Astartes in such a way, but Volturius was more than an Astartes. He was her heart’s treasure and confidant. He was the center of her world, more significant to her than even her devotion to her god.

“Yet you spoke of dishonor just now with a tongue that wasn’t gifted to you until that fateful day that brought you into my life? Whatever past dishonor exists, our god obviously was willing to forgive it. Forgive yourself. Tear open that wound and let the pain fully manifest. Volturius will never walk alone so long as his Calista stands beside him. I will hold the pain of those memories for you. I’ll bear the pain of an entire legion and not quell. That is my power, beloved, and meaning no disrespect, but it’s about damn time you understood the gift our god gave you when he brought us together."

"Your forked tongue harkens to more than simple appearance. While I am willing to tell of my betrayal by my brothers, you are no permitted to rip the memory from me and bear it in my stead. Contrary to belief, not all pains can be rendered pleasurable via teachings of Slaanesh- especially memories such as mine." Volturius instructed strictly to Tipper, while maintaining a sense of patience and a slight loving tone. Relaxed a bit by her rather excessive attempt to coerce the information out of him, the Astartes released his elbows and rested, staring up at the ceiling.

"To fully understand the extent of which their betrayal extends- you must first realize that only a fool would think themselves the sole child of an Astartes gifted by Slaanesh and surrounded by Legion serfs. I was born sometime around the 32nd or 33rd millennium, and there was plenty of time for him to likely see to a good portion of the second generation of Night Lords in our warband were both his brothers and actual sons. I wouldn't be surprised if a significant chunk of the twenty or so that were added to the warband around my time of augmentation were my literal brothers. Irregardless of this, our bond is as close as that of any Night Lord (which is an unstable one likely incomprehensible to you or any other member of the Legion). In short, I was forcibly exiled. While their pathetic selves were busy squabbling over petty loot and titles, I was busy cultivating favor of the Dark Gods, and thus, their gifts."

Volturius paused, straining himself from verbally lashing out at his brother's hypocrisy. It was obvious to him that they were just as mutated as he was. Only unlike him, who bore physical gifts of the four Gods of Chaos- their corruption was internal. Likely insidious warping of their minds by the Raven God and even Slaanesh manipulating them as well- sowing jealousy and self-righteous thoughts. Either their forcing of his exile was either spawned by jealousy (which he somewhat enjoyed, although knew it was a vain chance), or wished his removal as a potential obstacle in their own quests of ascension. These thoughts however were not exclusively Volturius', and they most certainly slowly trickled through the psychic link with Tipper.

"The Night Lords are a.. paranoid Legion, spawned by our origin as a murderous band of superstitious thieves and cutthroats. While Nostramo was fully obliterated- each of our ships carried with it a tiny seed of the planet's culture with us, the Chaos-Astartes, and the small cities of civilians aboard each ship. Our politics are also cutthroat in nature, and the Legion's views on Chaos are varied at best. Some Warbands are fully devoted entirely to the service of Chaos Undivided. Others sway towards service of a specific god while maintaining the favor of the other three. Others practice a hypocritical policy of squashing Chaos taint while elevating their status among the Gods. I unfortunately was of that warband. While my favor was great- this gained obvious attention. Not only did my brothers incorrectly fear my evolution into a hideous spawn (or likely falsely tried to cultivate such thoughts amongst the warband), or wished my removal for being a threat or obstacle to whatever schemes they might have crafted. I lack the knowledge of it. All I know was that my greatest kin of the warband, my warband, informed me of the danger I was in. So I fled on a small transport and later boarded a small Strike Cruiser bound for space held by the Black Legion fleet at that time. I am thankful not only for the derailment of my trip in order to meet you, but also for preventing me from having to spend the rest of my life with those dogs of Abaddon. Thinking back- the Word Bearers would have made a far greater choice, for they are among the few that truly appreciate Chaos and always welcome all of its touch."

Tipper's eyebrows had knitted together when he mentioned her tongue and then the furrow in her brow intensified when he accused her of trying to rip memories from him. She hadn't said pain was pleasure. Rather, that painful memories... bah. It hurt that he would feel she would coerce him.

The tiny cultist didn't understand why Volturius would feel that he'd betrayed anyone. Weren't his gifts proof of his standing in the gods' eyes? Her experiences with Astartes were limited to only what she knew, which really wasn't much. She understood that his was forced out due to jealousy or else because he stood in others' way to greatness, but how was this in any way his own fault? Were they so blind that they couldn't see what was in front of them? Why would anyone squash Chaos taint yet still strive to elevate themselves to the gods?

She was irritable at him, still, and her mood didn't help her comprehend. And she was hormonal from her pregnancy. And she was a woman. A stubborn woman at times.

Tipper slipped off the bed and tossed her robes over her head, tugging them down into place. She picked up her tiny satchel and put a hand on the doorknob. "Your old band were assholes," she snorted darkly. "You shouldn't feel any shame. They didn't deserve you. But I poured my heart out to you, and spoke with absolute candor about things that were painful to me, and you accuse me of coercion? Tipper doesn't coerce her Volturius. Doing that would mean Tipper doesn't respect or trust him. Tipper is going out. Tipper is irked at Volturius because he implied she was trying to take something from him that didn't belong to her."

The tiny cultist opened the door, stepped into the hall and snapped the door shut behind her. It wasn't slammed but it held a note of finality to it. She stomped down the hallway, one hand on the wall as she counted indentations from other doors.

Where the fuck am I going? I don't know. Why am I so mad? I don't know that either. I'm hungry. What do these people have to eat around here? OOooohhh he makes me so mad sometimes when he pulls that Astartes chastisement stuff on me. Coercion!

SNORT

That's saying I was being deceitful. I'm not deceitful. I'm many things, but he must think I'm a... a... what's the word? Oh I'm so angry I can't even think of it. A hanger on! Just using him for status or protection! Yes, something like that.

SNORT

Hneh. Fine. I'll show him! I'll go coerce some breakfast. I'll coerce the fuck out of it until it submits to be killed. Then we'll see.

Tipper obviously was rambling but, being Tipper, this wasn't so unusual. Neither was Not Being Seen. Tipper was very good at it, having lived for so long trying to avoid Astartes wrath. She opened her mind and did what any Chaos-aligned psyker of her power level would do in her situation. She teleported...

...emerged in the back garden and promptly walked into a tree. The effort left her more blind than usual due to her energy being drained but she was resolved. She would hunt something. Really hunt it. Once her nose stopped bleeding.

Tipper, being unfamiliar with anything except the insides of a ship, tromped into the woods and make enough noise to scare away every last squirrel, deer and bird for a mile. Breakfast would undoubtedly be fat, late-autumn beetles.

Klaus settled into the chair. The child in his arms yawned then rested her head against his chest. He studied her face a moment, appreciating the golden locks curled around her cheeks and forehead. He never thought he'd see her alive again.

In truth, he'd been angry with Minerva at first. What was she thinking, bringing a child into their troubled times? Yet when were times not troubled? Klaus had often pondered snatching Sophie from death but he'd make his excuses each time; there was little point in taking her from her fate and placing her in the precarious world of daemons, gods and death.

Things were different now. He wasn't beholden to Atosh. He wasn't alone. He was in a position and place where the child could thrive. Klaus had always sworn that he would return for her if he ever managed to reclaim his strength but Minerva, without even realizing it, had followed through on his vow.

"I'm not mad," he rocked his head to the side and smiled at his lover. "I was shocked at first. I was angry that you'd risked your life. Now? No. But where do we go from here? We've only two rooms. She hasn't anything to wear, nothing to sleep in and no toys. She hardly speaks English. She's still young enough to adapt to culture shock but this isn't Germany. It's Bielefeld. There's frightening things out there; things more frightening than Nazi Fascism and death camps. There are things in the building which would kill her and eat her, or torture her for a thrill. So don't think you're getting out of this lightly, Auntie Minerva. You accepted part of the responsibility when you fetched her here."

Sophie yawned again and closed her eyes. She drifted to sleep in his arms.

Minerva studied Klaus' face. A small smile crept to her mouth as he spoke.

"First of all, oh Teutonic One, I don't use my room. Or hadn't you noticed? We can set her up in there. We can go into town and purchase clothing and toys and things to sleep in. There is a Bielefeld in Germany, by the way. And I hadn't planned on bringing her here and leaving you with all the responsibility. You have enough on your plate, especially with Atosh. Chi can teach her English. We can keep an eye on her. While I don't expect your men to want to volunteer for the job, Hans is very good with children. My lads would lend a hand as well."

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she gave deeper thought to it. "I- I didn't bring her here to taint her. If you'd rather she not be exposed to all this, please say so."

[Urran]

"Buenos días," said the salesman, looking up. Thoughts of how to talk Anew into signing up as a model drifted through his head, followed by vague daydreams of a performance bonus at Christmas, or possibly a raise. "So many interesting people here, are there not?"

He paused, about six inches away.

She smiled. "Indeed. I love meeting new people." she said happily. her red eyes searched him up and down, trying to figure out what kind of person he was. He wondered if she could use him to further her cause or otherwise possess him. Then again, she needed to stay hidden so she decided against it.

[Giovenith]

"Oh, for the love of..." Willow face-hooved, then slid it down, taking a deep breath. "Alright, whatever. Where ever we are, it shouldn't be hard to get back to town. We just have to look around and-"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOHMYGODTALKINGPONIESTALKPONIES!!!!" screeched Giovenith at a glass-shattering pitch, leaping out from her spot behind the wall and blitzing over to the two speaking miniature horses. She stopped for a bit to do a little hoppy-dance in front of them, chattering with excitement the whole time, before abruptly grabbing Willow's head and feeling all over his face, coat, and nicely combed mane with her hands. "Lookatyourmanelookatyoureyesthey'resobigohmygodyouarejustthecutestthingsIhaveever..."

Here Willow Streaks had been, minding his own business, when a some thing had jumped out and started screaming at them. It was a bipedal creature that towered at least a foot over the two friends (and probably would over most ponies), had long limbs and a small, flat face, and was a kind of very pale, peach-ish color all over it's seemingly smooth, hairless flesh. It had then proceeded to spring over, squeeze his neck with it's front limbs, and rub what felt like weird, warm, crawly, boney-feeling little tentacles all over his face.

Needless to say, Willow wasn't exactly delighted about it.

"Oh Celestia, WHAT IS THIS?!" Disgusted and creeped out, Willow ungently shoved Giovenith off of him and zipped backward into the air on top of the garbage can. "Pony's sake, Sterling, incinerate it or something!" Of course he knew that his friend was unable to actually incinerate Giovenith (most unicorns would not be), but the pegasus was currently a little too shocked over being assaulted by some unknown creature to think completely logically.

[Tiltjuice]

"Buenos días," said the salesman, looking up. Thoughts of how to talk Anew into signing up as a model drifted through his head, followed by vague daydreams of a performance bonus at Christmas, or possibly a raise. "So many interesting people here, are there not?"

He paused, about six inches away.

She smiled. "Indeed. I love meeting new people." she said happily. her red eyes searched him up and down, trying to figure out what kind of person he was. He wondered if she could use him to further her cause or otherwise possess him. Then again, she needed to stay hidden so she decided against it.

That which she beheld...was a quite ordinary-looking man (albeit, in a rather un-ordinary outfit). Completely nondescript features, medium-tall, light brown hair and eyes, clean-shaven. A fedora and suit - over which was a trenchcoat - completed the look. He rather resembled the stereotypical "gray man" of dime spy novels, the one always tasked to do surveillance.

"Please call me #301-3," he introduced himself. "And you are, señorita…?"

[Cerillium]

"Oh, for the love of..." Willow face-hooved, then slid it down, taking a deep breath. "Alright, whatever. Where ever we are, it shouldn't be hard to get back to town. We just have to look around and-"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOHMYGODTALKINGPONIESTALKPONIES!!!!" screeched Giovenith at a glass-shattering pitch, leaping out from her spot behind the wall and blitzing over to the two speaking miniature horses. She stopped for a bit to do a little hoppy-dance in front of them, chattering with excitement the whole time, before abruptly grabbing Willow's head and feeling all over his face, coat, and nicely combed mane with her hands. "Lookatyourmanelookatyoureyesthey'resobigohmygodyouarejustthecutestthingsIhaveever..."

Here Willow Streaks had been, minding his own business, when a some thing had jumped out and started screaming at them. It was a bipedal creature that towered at least a foot over the two friends (and probably would over most ponies), had long limbs and a small, flat face, and was a kind of very pale, peach-ish color all over it's seemingly smooth, hairless flesh. It had then proceeded to spring over, squeeze his neck with it's front limbs, and rub what felt like weird, warm, crawly, boney-feeling little tentacles all over his face.

Needless to say, Willow wasn't exactly delighted about it.

"Oh Celestia, WHAT IS THIS?!" Disgusted and creeped out, Willow ungently shoved Giovenith off of him and zipped backward into the air on top of the garbage can. "Pony's sake, Sterling, incinerate it or something!" Of course he knew that his friend was unable to actually incinerate Giovenith (most unicorns would not be), but the pegasus was currently a little too shocked over being assaulted by some unknown creature to think completely logically.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOHMYGODTALKINGPONIESTALKPONIES!!!!" screeched Rudolf at a glass-shattering pitch, tumbling out of his hiding shadow and clapping his hands to his cheeks. The two small horses were much better than the shrew AND chances were good that they wouldn't explode.

"Ohmygodaretheysoft?Theylooksoft!" He wasn't technically allowed to leave his position but the temptation had been too great. He'd completely overlooked one of them instructing the other to incinerate the godling. He lowered his hands to expose his flat face and simian smile but he didn't dare remove his foot completely from the shadow he'd stood sentry in.