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Previous thread: >>34044968
(Archive Link: http://yuki.la/mlp/34044968)

>What is this thread about?
This thread revolves around stories about ponies being enslaved.

>Can you elaborate more?
Sure! SPG (Slave Pony General) is mostly about characters dealing with the actual implications of the horrifying thing that is chattel slavery. It's more looking at how people with modern sensibilities deal with the ownership of another sentient being, and how most people aren't total cunts.

Are you new and want to write your own story but have no previous experience?
Check out these guides:
https://pastebin.com/g4VpEg4f (clop specific)

We have a Discord server! https://discord.gg/qAHF9Pb

Featured Story:
Life of Honey (Pony OC) by Nephanee
- https://pastebin.com/jTbudPQJ

Most Recently Completed Story:
Staying out of Trouble (Twilight Sparkle) by Farenth Vega
- https://pastebin.com/rJhtA082
- https://pastebin.com/PzVrdip1
- https://pastebin.com/G5uXgese
- https://pastebin.com/DuUyBEW6
- https://pastebin.com/WYDfxX9J
- https://pastebin.com/XSVqvU6V

Useful Links
Recommended Stories for New Readers: https://pastebin.com/c6hd0P9Q
Completed Stories [26]: https://pastebin.com/82rCVh4j
Popular Stories [Updated 01/04/2019]: https://pastebin.com/vsnYXKba
All Stories [175]: https://pastebin.com/cqLCYveb
One-Shot Stories [32]: https://pastebin.com/nw4ZxVBp
Thread Archive: https://pastebin.com/S5m7bEab
Image Archive: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AiFkdye7rtydbfk0wBnid5vnFUg
Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/u/Slave_Pony_General
Bedfillies are better than bedmares
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The sun commands you to update

> Morning rolls over and the first rays of the rising sun poke right into your eyes. You're not ready to wake up yet, so you turn around and press your muzzle into the seat.
> You don't even want to know how late you came to bed last night. Well, maybe it was 'this morning', rather. Yeah, definitely this morning, judging by the taste in your mouth.
> You waited at the abandoned factory for as long as you dared before your nerves gave out, then you snuck back. The van was dark and quiet, so you came closer.
> Whatever Sky Light and Terry have been doing, it seemed to be over. You gratefully crawled to the empty cabin and flopped on the seat. You didn't even bother with a blanket. The night was warm enough with just fur.
> Things are back to normal, you guess. Sky Light accepted your apology - well, more or less - and now everything would go back to the usual routine.
> Was there even such a thing as a routine on the streets? No two days have been alike. A part of you misses the schedules and structure of your days back at the School.
> Anyway, sleep is impossible now that you've woken up and started thinking, so you roll to your back and stretch your hooves above your head. The motion brings out a yawn, which turns into a gasp as you inadvertently kick the van's passenger door.
> You freeze for a moment and listen for any sounds from the back. You didn't want to wake up Sky Light and Terry, but you wouldn't be awfully sad if you did. You're getting hungry and you're anxious for news about Lillian.
> There are no sounds from the pair, so you sit up and carefully open the door. Your hooves clop against the ground, but it's not overly loud. Now that you're upright, you stretch again, focusing on each leg in turn as you push them out as far as you can.

> You make your sleepy way to the back of the van, but pause when you see the door is open. Surely Terry would get back in his clothes after... well, *after*, right?
> With almost exaggerated care you peek around, biting your lip to keep yourself quiet if you happen to see something you shouldn't.
> You nearly sigh with relief when it's just Terry and Sky Light, cuddling. The human is fully dressed and the mare is almost hidden as the small spoon. As you watch her hind hoof, which is sticking out from under Terry's coat, twitches.
> The pony murmurs something and jerks her wing with a rustle of feathers, but doesn't wake up. As if responding, Terry reaches up and pats her muzzle, after which she licks his fingers.
> Then they are still again.
> It's actually kinda cute.
"Aww," you can't help saying.
> Luckily it was quiet enough not to wake the pair up.
> There's nothing else to do, so you decide to go get a drink of water and use the bathroom while you wait. You're very worried about Lillian, but neither your thirst nor the pressure in your bladder is helping the girl.
> Maybe you can get a newspaper or something at the truck stop - if Sky Light will take you, you add mentally.
> She might be cross with you for a while longer until you can properly make it up to her. Anyway, you're not going to the truck stop alone. Those teenagers last night have put a fear of getting... abused in you and you can't help being afraid of Butch.
> You wonder why the others even hang out with him. That pony is trouble if you ever saw it.
> Almost halfway up the canal stairs you hear hoofsteps behind you, so you stop and let Sky Light catch up to you.

> She seems in a better mood. The pegasus is yawning and you adore the way her tongue sticks out and curls at the end just when her mouth is open the widest.
> "Aahhh!" she concludes, then blinks at you. "You didn't have to wake me up, you know?"
"I didn't- I'm sorry."
> Apparently you're not as quiet as you thought you were, which makes you blush a tiny bit. You really should remember that other ponies around you can hear just as well - if not better - than you. You've gotten too used to the human level of hearing.
> The pegasus reaches your step and prods your rump with her muzzle. "Keep walking. I really have to go."
> You obey and Sky Light follows right on your heals, while you try and come up with something to say.
"Did y-you have... f-fun?" you venture.
> "Mhm!" the mare confirms. "Every now and then you just need a good rutting, y'know?"
> You don't, not really, but her comment makes you think of Paolo for some reason and you feel a light tingle down your belly.
> The pegasus chuckles and nudges your rump again. "You'll understand once you've had it a couple of times. Don't worry about it."
> You wish she would stop talking about it and embarrassing you, but at the same time you're extremely curious.
"Um, did you ever- y'know... with a pony?"
> Sky Light doesn't even need to think about it. "Yeah. Sometimes you need something a bit larger. Now your average human can go for a while - which is great, don't get me wrong - but it's not as... umm," she says, pausing to think.
> "It's not as filling," the mare finishes. "Sometimes you just wanna feel it right *up* there, right?"

> It's a good thing you're walking in front, so she can't see how red your face is. You should probably stop her, but listening to what Sky Light is saying is giving you a weird kind of guilty, tingly pleasure.
> "Now the important thing is," the pegasus goes on, as if teaching you vital life lessons, "stay away from stallions when you're in heat. Have you had your first heat yet?"
> Either she can't see how flat your ears are, or she's purposefully ignoring them. You consider not answering - these topics are incredibly impolite to discuss in company - but the mare has been a good friend!
> The memory itself makes you feel guilty when you think back on how you've acted. It was very lucky that the School staff had enough experience to know what to do about it. They had locked you in a cell and didn't let you see any of your friends for a week.
> That was good, because otherwise you might have asked your roommates to do something very inappropriate. Later on, in Mr. Greiner's class you found out the real reason.
> Pheromones. If a colt smelled it they would be very... discomforted. If one of them approached you that fateful week you would have done something incredibly stupid.
> Solitary confinement was a bit harsh, but you had all the desserts you could eat and books you could read. You were even excused from homework and the Maths test which was the following week.
> You don't tell Sky Light any of that, though. It's almost too shameful to just think about all the things that went through your mind during those few days.
> "Well, then you know what it's like."
> You swallow a lump and nod.
> "Don't worry, I'll look after you," Sky Light promises. She falls silent for a few steps, then asks in a lower, calmer voice. "If you still want me to, of course."

> That sounded just a bit too passive-aggressive. You don't want that sort of thing to build up between you two, so you turn around to face the mare.
"I do!" you say quickly, "I'm sorry about storming away. I was stupid."
> The pegasus just watches you warily for a moment, then she nods. "Yes. You are."
> You lower your ears and your gaze, trying not to sniffle. What hurts the most is that Sky Light is right, but before you can open your mouth to say you agree, she tilts your head back up with a feather under your muzzle.
> "You're my little idiot, okay? Just- please trust me from now on. I'll go see Hoover today and that'll be the end of that, understand?"
> You give her as bright and cheerful a smile as you can. Then you remember another detail.
"Um, I lost the money... last night," you admit.
> The mare cocks her head to the side. "Oh yeah, I've been wondering about that. What made you come back so fast?"
> You gulp in fear and lower your voice.
"I was gonna sleep at the bus s-stop," you explain. "I thought could get sup-supplies from the machine. But there were these guys..."
> Sky Light nods sagely. "Oh, right. It's nearly summer. Pot heads. They come out when it gets warm enough. It's either the park or the bus stop."
"Pot heads?"
> You remember a very stern lecture from Instructor Martha.
"Oh! Weed? They smoke weed?!"
> So that was what you smelled!
> "Mhm," Sky Light confirms. "Stay away from those guys. Who knows what they might get it in their heads to do once they're stoned. Did they see you?"
> The memory is making you nervous and you shuffle your hooves.
"I tried sneaking away, but I stepped in a pothole. Then I just ran for it. I don't think they chased me."

> "Well, they don't come over to the abandoned factory, so you should be okay there if you have to pee in the middle of the night," Sky Light says, implying between her words that she doesn't want you waking her up for it. "The van is also okay because of Terry. Most people stay away from the homeless."
> That's a nice bonus. You find yourself appreciating the man a bit more.
"Oh. T-Thanks," you tell the mare.
> "Now let's hurry up. I'm growing a second tail here!"
> Again she's back to disgusting, which makes you blush, which results in Sky Light laughing at you. This time you don't mind. She's just joking in her brash, uncultured way.
> You still turn towards your destination and pick up the pace, though.
"Um, so you didn't find Lillian yesterday?" you start a more important topic.
> "Sorry," Sky Light says and sighs. "I swear I poked into every bush between the suburb and the forest, but no sign. I also didn't see any footprints or anything. I guess she didn't go that way."
> You sigh sadly, but then cheer up as you remember your other theory.
"M-Maybe someone already found her? Or she went h-home?" you ask hopefully.
> "Yeah, could be," Sky Light says, brightening up. "Tell you what, we'll go grab coffee at the truck stop and I'll buy a newspaper. Maybe there'll be something about her."
> You twirl around once again and hug the pony around her withers. She has to flap her wings to keep her balance, but you don't care.
"Thank you!"
> "After that you owe me, kid," Sky Light continues, trying to sound serious and cold, even while she's patting your back with a wing. "We'll mooch in front of the library and then the parking meter again, okay? We really have to get that money for Viktor together."

> She barks a short laugh. "I'm actually more worried about him than Hoover. The guy is a psycho."
> You pull back and give the mare a tiny, hurt glare.
"You sent me to him with a drug delivery!" you say accusingly.
> It makes Sky Light lower her gaze and rub a hoof against a foreleg nervously. "Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't thinking."
> Well, forgiveness goes both ways, right?
"It's okay."
> You resume your much-interrupted walk. After a few paces Sky Light moves in front and increases her pace. She must really be in a hurry. You almost have to run after the lithe pegasus to keep up.
> As you canter behind the mare you catch a whiff of her scent. It makes your nose wrinkle when you recognize it.
"Might want a shower while we're at the truck stop," you murmur.
> The mare slows down for a few steps so she can wave a wing along her side and inhale the result. "Ugh, you're right. I guess I got used to the smell in the van."
> You say nothing more as you two start walking again. Sky Light breaks the silence after about a minute. "That's the downside, anyway. Sticky and leaking and anyone can smell it on you until you shower. Speaking of which, you could use one, too!"
> You happily agree.
> "Also, we have to find you something better to wear. That thing isn't doing too good," Sky Light says without even looking.
> You agree with that as well.
"I know..."
> "I'll have Hoover give me one of the uniforms. He generally has one or two lying around."
> That idea doesn't sit well with you. You really don't want to be indebted to a drug lord.
"That's okay, I don't-"

> "He owes me," Sky Light says firmly, overriding your objections. "After one of his goons threatened you with a gun it's the least he can do, and my final two deliveries are also off the table! I'll give that bastard a piece of my mind!"
> You almost whimper in fear. You'd embellished the story a lot when you wanted Sky Light to feel sorry and now it's time to pay the price. You open your mouth to tell her the truth.
> "No one treats my friends that way!" Sky Light growls and you shut your cowardly trap.
> You'll tell her later, when you've both showered and had your coffee. It's too early to go admitting to such horrible lies.
> Yeah... later.
> The building looms up above you and you're grateful you can stop talking with Sky Light for a while. She goes in to do her business and you hang around, furiously trying to come up with some other topic of conversation.

> ~~~~

> The newspaper isn't encouraging. 'Daughter of U.S. Senator Still Missing!' is the title. You quickly scan the article to see if there are any clues.
> It's more or less what you expected from the heading. The Boones are distraught, the police are baffled and the whole city, more or less, is worried.
> No ransom demand has come forth, which you can't decide if it's good news or bad. Kidnapping would be horrible, but at least you'd know Lillian was alive. Now you just don't.
> Not knowing leaves a cold, dark ball in your belly, making you feel as if you want to puke but something is blocking it. You leave most of your coffee untouched - you don't want it anymore.
"Lillian," you whisper to yourself, while Sky Light is standing beside, looking dejected.

> "She's going to be fine," the pegasus assures you, but you don't have much conviction. You hardly even notice when the other ponies join you on the grass in front of the truck stop.
> The first one to brush your side is Velvet. "Morning, Rosa!" she says happily. Shortly after, she changes her tone to one of worry and fear. "Oh dear, what's happened?!"
> You can't quite speak, but luckily Sky Light answers her instead. "That senator's daughter in the news. Rosa was her guardian. Well, until she got a cutie mark and... well, it's a long story."
> What the pegasus doesn't say, much to your relief, is that Lillian having run away is your fault. All you can see is the picture in the paper. She looks so happy there!
> "Don't worry, hot stuff," comes a deeper, unwelcome voice from your other side, "I know how to cheer you up."
> Before you can really react Butch nips your ear, drawing a sharp hiss from you and making you jump away. You open your mouth to yell at him, but Velvet beats you to it and gives the pushy stallion a firm kick in his rump.
> It's strong enough for the jerk to fall flat on his muzzle. "Idiot," mutters the mare and places herself between him and you.
> "Don't mind him," Velvet tells you while she rubs her flank against yours. "He's just an idiot."
> There's uncomfortable silence while none of the ponies looks at Butch. Finally Bluegrass clears his throat.
> "Anyway, I went on the Internet for that government thing..."
> You're still distraught by your horrible imagination of what might have happened to Lillian, but Sky Light steps closer to the stallion and picks up the conversation: "Okay, did you find anything?"
> You stop paying attention to them. If there's anything important, Sky Light will tell you. Maribelle can wait - Lillian is more important.

> Crazy schemes of getting the pegasus to lead you there are popping up in your head. Maybe she didn't look closely enough and the girl really *is* hiding somewhere in the fields.
> If not, you can search the forest. You'll eat grass if you have to!
> "You okay sweetie?" Velvet asks, nuzzling you again. You're barely aware that she's standing almost protectively beside you. A glance tells you that Butch has crawled away and is sitting there, watching you with this weird, scary little grin. It makes you shiver.
"Why do you stay around him?" you ask, absentmindedly.
> Velvet follows your gaze, then shrugs. "Eh, he's not so bad when you get to know him. Just make sure you never turn your back on him and you'll be fine."
"That's stupid."
> The mare giggles a little. "I guess it is. You have to remember, it's just us on the street. No one will help us. You make the best of it."
> You open your mouth to ask if the stallion is... having his way with her, but then shut it and shake your head. You don't really want to know.
> It was such a piece of luck that you ran into Sky Light and Terry, rather than someone like Butch, or those teenagers from last night. You start listening to what the pegasus and Bluegrass are saying.
> "... like Area 51 or something!" the stallion is explaining in a quiet, rushed voice. "The web page said they do secret experiments on ponies there! It's shady as fuck and probably illegal, but you know they don't care!"
> It really does sound like he's found something. Sky Light is nodding to herself, but when she notices you looking she gives you a wry grin and rolls her eyes.
> "Okay, can you give me an address?" she asks Bluegrass.
> The stallion looks around, as if imparting a great secret. You focus your ears in case it's something important for you to remember.

> "Somewhere out in Death Valley. No one knows for sure, but the blog said that's where it is!"
> "Death Valley. Gotcha," Sky Light says, flashing you another smile. She then wraps her wing around the stallion, who looks incredibly proud of himself and whispers something in his ear. It's making him smile widely and blush a fantastic pink.
> You're done socializing. The sun is rising and you want to be out and doing something about Lillian already, so you stand up and take a step towards the pegasus.
> A hoof taps you on your back. "Rosa? You forgot your coffee," Velvet points out.
> You don't care about that thing in the slightest. You don't have any appetite left, so you shrug and force a smile for the mare.
"It's yours," you say graciously.
> "Oh wow? Really?!" Velvet gasps in delight.
"Yeah, sorry it's gotten cold..."
> You don't get much further because the mare hugs you. "Thanks! You're awesome, Rosa!"
> Luckily her embrace doesn't last too long - she's too eager to get to her beverage. You nod at her absently, already forgetting the coffee, and make your way to Bluegrass and Sky Light.
"Um, we should go?" you suggest.
> The pegasus leans her head to the side, a bit curious but mostly worried. She obviously doesn't like the expression on your muzzle, but you don't care.
> "Okay," she says slowly and pats the stallion on his shoulder. "Good job, Bluegrass. Keep looking, see if you can find anything more exact, okay?"
> The pony nearly salutes. "Will do!"
> You see he's still blushing a little, but you don't spend energy wondering about it. You just start walking away, barely glancing around to see if Sky Light is following.
> Velvet waves a hoof goodbye and so does Pepper. Butch just keeps staring and grinning, which makes you shiver a little in discomfort.

> Mental note: *never* be alone with that guy!
> Your thoughts are interrupted when Sky Light speaks up: "Okay, your tail on fire or something?"
"No, I- huh? What?"
> The pony rolls her eyes at your distracted, bemused stare. "What's the hurry?"
"Oh. I was thinking we could go- and the forest... Lillian might be hiding in the forest, we should search there."
> Before you can take one more step Sky Light hurries up and plants herself in front of you. Your noses almost touch before you can stop.
> "Don't you 'hey' me!" Sky Light almost hisses. "We're done with that stuff, understand?! I don't like what it's doing to you, so just snap out of it!"
"B-But... Lillian-"
> "Enough," the mare interrupts you again. "It's not healthy. You have an obsession, Rosa and it's going to kill you."
> You somehow know what she's trying to say. She won't help you anymore and she won't let you do it on your own. After your promise to her, you can't just run away again, either. Not that you'd make it on your own, a fact that is almost physically painful.
"B-But..." you don't even try to stem the flow of tears.
> "No," Sky Light says firmly, but gently. "No butts, rumps or flanks, got it? It's done. We did what we could. Hell, we went *above and beyond*."
> She starts pacing up and down, but you don't move, keeping your eyes on the ground between you two.
> "An *army* of humans didn't find her and they have cars and phones and helicopters and shit. We can't do any better and trying will just end up in tears," the mare is telling you. She corrects after a moment: "More tears, anyway."
> You don't say anything, because in some way, deep down, you know she's right.

> "I know it sucks, Rosa, but it's time to let it go. We can still hope she'll be okay, but no more searching, okay? It's time to look after ourselves!"
> It feels like betrayal, but you nod. Then the waterworks well and truly open. You're hardly aware of wings hugging you.
> "There. Cry it out and then you'll feel better, you'll see. We'll get the paper again tomorrow - maybe they'll find her, okay?"
> You manage another nod. The grief is hitting hard, but Sky Light is helping. You climb back up to your hooves, even if you are standing a little shakily.
> "Good. Meanwhile, let's get to the library. Don't worry, I'll do all the talking - you just keep looking like that. Maybe we can pay off Viktor and be done with it, right?"
> You don't really care about that, but you nod anyway. You promised Sky Light to help her out.
> She probably knows you don't give a rat's ass about her debt at the moment, but she doesn't mind. The mare can see what this Lillian thing is doing to you and she gives you a very welcome, comforting nuzzle.
> "We'll keep trying to find your other friend, right? Another week and some of the truckers will be back, maybe they'll have news. If we find out for sure where this place is, we're sneaking in, okay?"
> She's trying to cheer you up and it's painfully transparent. It's obvious Sky Light doesn't believe you'll ever get anything concrete, so it's a safe promise for her to make. You're a bit miffed at how well it's working.
> If you've failed Lillian, you have to try and do right by Maribelle! You wipe some of your tears away with a hoof and give another nod.
> "Good girl. Now let's keep going. Try to look sad while we mooch, it really helps. Might as well use it, right?"

> You remember something from earlier and focus on it, hoping you'll stop thinking about Lillian for a while.
"W-What did you tell Blue-Bluegrass?" you ask, then clarify a little: "When you whispered to h-him?"
> Sky Light grins a little. "I told him if he finds out more by tomorrow, I'll lift my tail for him."
> It's so shocking and unexpected that it works flawlessly. All thoughts of Lillian and the search fly right out of your mind as you gasp.
"What?! Why would you do that? You didn't have to do that!"
> The pony chuckles at your expression. "Don't worry, I was gonna do it anyway. I told you Terry isn't quite... filling enough. Now a colt like Bluegrass... Mmm, so cute when he's embarrassed. Oh, and so *eager*. I love me some young flank - don't tell him that!"
> This mare...
> You shake your head, but can't help grinning in exasperation. Will you ever get like that?
> Probably not. You can't stop thinking about Paolo for some reason. You really want to see that colt any just... talk. There's so much you want to tell him and even more you want to ask.
> Mainly - does he still like you?
> Sky Light interrupts your thoughts: "Come on, let's keep going. Library is usually best before lunch - then it's the parking meter afterwards, except on weekends. Restaurant row is best on weekends, but you gotta get there early to get a spot."
> You're not really listening, but you nod and make affirmative noises while the pegasus chatters as she leads you away.

There, let's open the thread with a bit of Rosa awkward. Fun times, but you know they won't last much longer. A big change is on the horizon, just like this guy foresaw >>34087848

Pastebin is also updated: https://pastebin.com/5AxmiVxJ

Also, I see I forgot to answer this. I didn't intend to put Rosa in the same universe as any of the others, but I will give it some thinking. "Break" seems a good candidate (this would be happening some time after the events in Break)... I'll see if I can bring the two together.
> "... like Area 51 or something!" the stallion is explaining in a quiet, rushed voice. "The web page said they do secret experiments on ponies there! It's shady as fuck and probably illegal, but you know they don't care!"
> "Somewhere out in Death Valley. No one knows for sure, but the blog said that's where it is!"

Look like this stallion just choose the first link just to end in a shitty clickbait blog
Death Valley would be a shitty place to build anything, and especially anything secret. Not even Uncle Sam could afford the AC.
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>Three days later, we had 12 aliens. Magic compartment was directly under Trixie, composed of two unicorns and some engineers. Weather compartment, composed of three pegases and other engineers and ecologists, was placed on the same floor.
>Still, we had no idea on what to do with earthponies. As well as with others, since any idea those compartments came up with haven’t even got to final presentation. It was management issue, and it is obvious who it was up to solve it. Like overseeing Far Eastern projects wasn’t enough for me.
>I honestly don’t understand these aliens. Neither grants, nor promises of additional days off, nor new coffee machine have changed their productivity. And deadline is this week.
>After another sleepless night, I compiled all documents needed for today for our projects with chinese, while pouring energy drink down the throat and warming it up by cup of coffee. As my heart rushed to final stop, Trixie went in without knocking.
>“Bad day, isn’t it?”
“Oh no, fucking perfect one. Ponies do nothing, engineers can’t understand shit they explain about magic, we are near deadline, and, by the way, I bet no one cared enough to solve Ukrainian problem.”
>“Actually, I cared. We sold their debt to ICB. Half-price, but at least we got something out of it.”
>Now, I haven’t misheard it?
“Wait, is that- you did it yourself?”
>”Well, Maria made most of the talking.”
>Since cup of coffee wasn’t empty, I quickly fixed it, despite complaints of my circulatory system. Looks like Ukraine became total bitch of ICB. They cannot dodge debt to them, unlike to us, especially considering how much they owed them before. Still, since there is big possibility world is going to end anyway, if I go with our plan, for example, I think it will not make it any worse for them.
“Okay, but what about these lazy fucks?
>”Mind your language! They are my kind! They are my… lazy fucks.”
“Thinking about it, what differs you from them?”
>She smirked.
>“Well, I am not traitor pacifist, for a start.”
“Trixie, enough of that. How can we get them to work?”
>Trixie stumbled for a moment.
>”You still haven’t promised them freedom because you cannot guarantee it?”
“Well, yeah. In your situation I had ability to be honest, with them… I don’t think they will take excuses, and I like keeping on promises.”
>”Maybe… I know this is strange coming from me, but who fucking cares? They are slaves, you can quickly shut their badmouthing about you if they figure lies out. Plus, we can make them work by force…”
>Is it her thoughts about those ponies or about human treatment in general?
“So, what should I offer them?”
>”Promise them freedom. That what made me tick and that what will make them as well.”
“And why would they believe us?”
>”Well, I somehow believed you.”
>So she already does not believe this idea?
>“But seriously, haven’t they watched the news about us?”
“Well, no, but I told them about that.”
>Trixie glanced at me.
>“Are you serious? I mean, they don’t need best knowledge of Russian to be exposed to the power of TV influence. They get money for brainwashing, after all.”
>Considering that most of our ponies are collaborators, they will buy “Peaceful Russia” agenda. Thinking about it, we should revive old slogan. “Oilprom. Dreams come true.”
>Also, we should think about target audience. Of course, we don’t need coverage to affect those who actually buys oil and gas, but what we can do is to affect those who has aliens. We can make them come to us instead of us searching for them.
>And a lot of ponies have been bought out cheap at first wave by soldiers and officers. Yet they were not the only one.
Usually I was the one making commands to ponies, yet this one I was asked to act merely as translator of speeches.
Meeting is coming to the end, so I levitated the mouse, changing slides in accordance to my…well, not mine… speech.
“My friends, I gathered you since time is pressing, and our progress is of utmost need. We work here for common goal. Could anyone tell me what it is?”
>“Your profits.”
That lame remark belonged to polamore, that Manehattan bitch.
That one belonged to Red Heart.
“Yes, my friends, but…”
Okay, fuck this prewritten shit. I am owner of this fucking company, so I can do whatever I want.
“No, actually all of this is bullshit. We work here for our freedom.”
Polamore gave a quick laugh.
“And how you imagine that?”
“Well, if you paid at least little attention to human conversations and knew Russian, you would know that this is one of the biggest Russian companies, and that we work closely both with human officials and Equestrian Embassy. Of course I plan leaving this forsaken world with tons of money, but without freedom they are of no use, right?”
Suddenly, Derpy raised the voice.
>“Wait, but if we go to Equestria, we still will be slaves?”
Feels strange hearing from her sensible question.
“No, but then leaving this world in first place would be illegal, and more than that – international incident, and to plus it would make Russian money useless for us. So, you can be stubborn assholes or join my efforts in leaving this world with human technologies and money.”
Lightning Bolt raised her hoof.
>>34100364 (edit)
>Usually I was the one making commands to ponies, yet this one I was asked to act merely as translator of speeches.
>Meeting is coming to the end, so I levitated the mouse, changing slides in accordance to my…well, not mine… speech.
“My friends, I gathered you since time is pressing, and our progress is of utmost need. We work here for common goal. Could anyone tell me what it is?”
>“Your profits.”
>That lame remark belonged to polamore, that Manehattan bitch.
>That one belonged to Red Heart.
“Yes, my friends, but…”
>Okay, fuck this prewritten shit. I am owner of this fucking company, so I can do whatever I want.
“No, actually all of this is bullshit. We work here for our freedom.”
>Polamore gave a quick laugh.
>“And how you imagine that?”
“Well, if you paid at least little attention to human conversations and knew Russian, you would know that this is one of the biggest Russian companies, and that we work closely both with human officials and Equestrian Embassy. Of course I plan leaving this forsaken world with tons of money, but without freedom they are of no use, right?”
>Suddenly, Derpy raised the voice.
>“Wait, but if we go to Equestria, we still will be slaves?”
>Feels strange hearing from her sensible question.
“No, but then leaving this world in first place would be illegal, and more than that – international incident, and to plus it would make Russian money useless for us. So, you can be stubborn assholes or join my efforts in leaving this world with human technologies and money.”
>Lightning Bolt raised her hoof.
>“This sounds good, but what it means on practice?”
“Another good question. What it means on practice is that we have less than three weeks to obliterate human markets by using our own specialties Weather control, magic, anything that gives us edge over competitors.”
>Sweety Drops intervened.
>“B-but what about earthponies?”
>Good question. One I seek answer for myself. Yet I cannot allow to show my not-knowingness.
“Those who have needed specialties, like Red Heart, already get what they need to do. For other we have spare jobs of maintance.”
>Lyra raised her hoof.
>“But what about magic? Most of us know nothing about it, we just levitate and do some other stuff.”
>Whispering grew in room.
“We don’t need complex spells, just simple enchantments. Plus, we will get artifacts to help us.”
>“And do we have scriptures of those enchantments?”
>No, and I have no idea where to get them.
“Right now Embassy is selecting scriptures to provide us.”
>Again, Lightning Bolt had a question.
>“And weather control we are capable of without system like Cloudsdale is really small.”
“We just need move clouds for now.”
>Polomare yet again gave a snark.
>“So, we should follow that unprepared plan?”
>At that moment, I completely lost it.
“I. Am Your. Employer! I gave you goal, I gave you deadline and I give you resourses. You slacked off week already, so either do your job for better future or I will sell you back to prostitution.”
>Whispering finally stopped.
“If I could do everything myself I wouldn’t gather you, would not spend any rouble for your asses. So prove your worth or spread your legs!”
>Lightning Bolt Shyingly raised her leg.
>“I… I have some ideas, but we will need these things humans told me about… Lazers, or something like that.”
“Okay, from now on you lead weather department. All other pegases are your subordinates from now on. You have two days to prepare project, then you present it to Norilsk customers. You, next!”
>Lyra was not ready to be pointed at.
>“A-as I said, we cannot do any significant enchantments without scriptures. Yet for now we can train to read them if you have any examples.”
“Since I oversee magic department myself, it will be my headache. What else?”
>Polomare raised her hoof.
>“I can run utility department.”
“That would be great if we hadn’t tons of humans for it. Though you are right, somepony should be responsible for ponies’ live conditions. Fogr everything, starting with clean toilets finishing with meals.”
>As that, in ten minutes everyone quickly found how they can become useful. I felt like I was natural born leader at that moment.
>After all of that done, what was left was just one thing.
“Oh, and next morning prepare your looks. We will record each of you for promo and ads. You will be given text, make sure to learn it and play accordingly to it.”
>Finally, I have put my problems on others shoulders like good leader should. I used to give orders three months ago as well, but tactics were developed solely by me. And now I just introduced strategy and let others to work it out.
That is it for now, i haven't slept for three days straight, so will need some time off. When i wake up i probably will post more, as all papers with text are on me. Pastebin of chapter 2: https://pastebin.com/puvZ4HQs
Summary of first chapter: https://pastebin.com/fHVkRZaK
Whole first chapter: https://pastebin.com/wgaVqQ0u
Wow; there’s a blast from the past! I totally forgot what’s going on, have to skim through the paste first. Good to see you back!
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>picture taken moments before her life changed forever
I almost forgot this slogan lol. God old days, when you could still invest.
Guess I'll go and refresh my memory too. Thanks for the update!
Real horsies wheel around/show their back as a last step, "I'm going to fuck you up if you don't step off," warning. To turn your back on someone might not mean the same thing as it does for pones.
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Best cuddle buddy
Oh fuck you man, I thought this story was going a complete other direction and you just fucked me up. Also how far away is Death Valley from where rosa is? All this trucker stuff makes me think they're somewhere close up the grapevine and located somewhere north of LA. If so, I think I really know what you're doing with the story so double fuck you.
You idiots seem to forget that Area 51 is a thing or the fact that the military has a massive military complex and air force bombing range just west of the saltonsea in meth capital Niland. The military fuckin loves them some good desert wastelands and taxpayer money is the ultimate a/c.
also awf, if you do send rosa out there hit me up, I know the area pretty good and could give you story details
Adding onto this, horses are literally built to fuck up predators that ambush from the back, their relaxed ear position tilts back. They instinctively kick when startled or irritated. And if you even just look at the hind leg anatomy, you can see they have a fuck huge aponeurosis that keeps their muscles used for kicking in place. If it was just tendon like most other animals, the sheer force from one kick would snap the tendon like a twig. It's really the whipping motion from the legs that deal deadly impact, but if you stand closer than that they will launch you like a fucking catapult.

I imagine turning your back or turning tail are actually pretty agressive terms for pones, where as things like break a leg would be considered very mean.
Oh hey swf, you coming back and finishing corona any time soon?
I wish I was him, then he'd fucking be alive. Sadly I'm a different horsefucker.
That one is really small for ice cream
Eh, dicklets Anons deserve happiness too.
>Be mare
>It's girl talk time!
>And not a taping of the show - that was yesterday
>It's a pain in the ass to set up with everypony's schedules, but you manage to schedule a video chat with your old friends
>At least once a month
<Of course it falls on you to organize it, but you don't mind
>What you'd really love to do is take them out in Ponytown for a night
>The one time you did that everypony had a great time!
>But they rarely get nights off, and never all at the same time
>And you really can't afford to pay your former organization their out call rates plus take them out someplace
>Well you could, actually
>But then everypony would want to make it a regular thing, and you don't have THAT kind of money
>You might if Blinders Off gets picked up for another season
>Of course there are rumors about that
>Some say it's a lock because the show has good ratings and a more than respectable viewership
>Others caution that its increasingly abolitionist leanings might make corporate want to distance themselves from it
>The VP and the producers really haven't given you anything to go on
>But there was a rumor that if the network didn't renew it Netflix might pick it up
>You don't see how that would work
>You talk about real issues in real time
>The show might not be broadcast live, but it's relevan to the moment it airs
>You doubt people stream ahows like that
>You could find out
>It's offered streaming after it's broadcast - someone has to have the stats on that
>Might be good to know
>But now's not the time to think about that
>You have a different set of mares to catch up with
>And a hot bit of gossip to share
>By the time you get on to the chat the other girls are already there
>Skydancer, Snowdrop AND Durril - she's the toughest one to schedule
"Hi girls!"
>"Hey," Snowdrop replies
>Durril and Skydancer proceed to talk over each other, much like you and Rosedid when you first started taping the show
>They pause, and Durril defers to Sky
>"How's freedom treating you?," Skydancer asks
"Complicated as usual"
>"You seeing anypony yet?," Durril asks
>"She isn't," Snowdrop says before you can reply
"How do you know?"
>"You have the same hungry look Skydancer's had for a while," Snowdrop replies. "And not skinny hungry"
>"Is it true?," Durril asks
"Unfortunately. It's not for lack of takers. I get checked out all the time. It's lack of... inclination"
>"Free pony shit is complicated, right?," Skydancer confirms
"Yeah. I could easily just go get fucked, but the whole dating thing they do is still over my head"
>"I can't imagine," Snowdrop replies, then clarifies, "Both dating and NOT getting fucked"
>Everypony laughs except Sky
>"I stopped going back for a reason," she says sadly, "Not out of lack of desire"
>"And I bet somepony there misses you horribly," Snowdrop answers
>"Don't rub it in," Sky answers. "I didn't ask to be like this, but I'm pretty convinced growing up the way we did is why I am"
"It left marks on all of us"
>"Well I don't want to be responsible for leaving any of those marks on somepony else," Sky says, "more than I have already"
>"Or maybe there aren't any fillies who are as sexy as I was back in the day," Snowdrop teases
"Yeah, right. That's definitely got to be it"
>You're happy to see that gets a smile out of Sky
>You were starting to worry about the direction this conversation was taking
>If it were anypony other than Snowdrop talking to Sky like that you'd think they were being insensitive
>But Skydancer and Snowdrop have a more than just friends relationship with different... What's the word?
>You know Sky hasn't magically lost her attraction to fillies, and deciding acting on it isn't right had to be tough on her
>You don't know if you agree with her decision, but she's made up her mind. She has to live with it
>"It's just one of many marks left," Sky says flatly. "Like what was the one big rule for clients growing up?"
"No rough stuff!," you reply in unison with the other girls
>"Right," Sky says with a little smile. "And I end up a dominatrix, wile two of you end up with fetishes along those lines"
"Yeah, Durril, how did you manage to dodge that bullet?"
>"I dunno. Maybe because I had another physical outlet," Durril muses
>She blushes, which looks really funny on a green mare
>You thought green was such an ugly color for a mare when you first met her as a filly
>Some of that must have been jealousy because she's a beautiful mare now
>"But if you think I'm not getting off a little bit when I'm dancing," she says slyly, "think again"
"It's pretty obvious"
>Snowdrop nods
>"I'd still like to see you dance someday," Sky says whistfully
>"We'll have to arrange that," Durril replies
"Or if WE can't maybe I can"
>"You have the most agency by far," Durril answers
>"What I'd like to see is Skydancer at work," Snowdrop says
>You and Durril laugh
"We know you would"
>"Yeah," Skydancer replies, "pretty sure that's not going to happen"
>"I know," Snowdrop answers, "But I'd still like to see it. A man being dominated by a mare? What's hotter than that?"
"I dunno... whip videos?"
>"Ooooh, burn!," Durril says
>"I can take it," Snowdrop says, smiling. "At least there's not a video of me getting off on being choked out floating around online"
"I don't masturbate to it, al least," you respond. "Oh wait! I've got gossip! You won't believe who I ran into on the street the other day"
>"Spill," Snowdrop says excitedly
"The guard back from when we were fillies!"
>"Last time I went back there he was on leave," Skydancer says, "Caring for his mother or something?"
"Caring for his dying mother. Who turned out to be an abolitionist! And on her deathbed she converted him!"
>"So he quit his job?," Durril asks
"Yeah, but it's bigger than that"
>"Don't keep us waiting," Snowdrop pleads, "Spill!"
"He's dating a mare"
>"Dating?," Skydancer saks, "like a free mare?"
>"A unicorn?," Durril asks
>"I can't see him with a mare," Snowdrop says, "other than you, of course"
"I'm never living that down, am I?"
>"You fucked him for a sandwich," Snowdrop giggles, "Way to devalue the rest of us!"
"I had no idea back then. Really. Now I know exactly what all of you are worth. One extreme to the other"
>"Sky's still worth the most, right?," Snowdrop asks
"Nice try. Not telling, and you know it"
>"I've always wondered about the kind of guy who dates a free mare," Sky speculates. "Idealist or cheapskate?"
"In his case it's probably a little from column A and a little from column B"
>When the girls laugh a little at that it almost fells like being on the show
>Tailoring your comments for comedic effect is a recent skill, but one you like to think you've gotten good at
>"Is she pretty?," Snowdrop asks
"For an older unicorn, yeah"
>"Are we talking Madam old," Durril asks, "or..."
"Not that old, but definitely Equestrian born"
>"The guard with an Equestrian born free unicorn," Skydancer says in a surprised tone. "There's an odd couple"
"She's gonna do a number on his politics, that's for sure"
>"Are you talking keep the magic alive kind of shit?," Skydancer saks. "I thought they frowned on interspecies couples"
"Seems to me like they're trying to be inclusive. I've met Sunrise. You've seen her on the show. It seems like she's trying to reach out"
>"Seems pretty horn-centric, if you ask me," Durril responds
>"Yeah, really," Snowdrop chimes in, "Unicorns just being unicorns without much consideration for the rest of us"
>"While giving lip service to us all being in this together," Skydancer adds, "Regardless of what else they post online"
"That bad?"
>"Yeah," Skydancer answers, "or worse, depending on which sources you trust"
>"If he lets himself get cucked so she can give birth to a unicorn foal," Snowdrop begins, but you interrupt her
"Cucked? What's that?"
>"You don't spend much time online, do you?," Durril asks
"Not as much as you girls do, obviously"
>"Probably why you're giving Sunrise the benefit of the doubt," Skydancer responds. "They're really a fringe group"
>The sound of a hoof knocking on the door to your room disrupts the conversation
>"Permission to enter, Ma'am," comes 47's muffled voice from the other side of the door
"Permission granted"
>You don't like talking that way to him, but he seems to prefer it
>"Ooooh, is that your muscle?," Durril asks
>"Turn the laptop around and let us see," Snowdrop demands
>You comply as 47 enters the room
>"Yummy!," Snowdrop says
>"Hi hot stuff," Durril chirps. "Come by the tack dance club and I'll see to it you're taken care of"
>"Ma'am," 47 says in his usual all business tone, "We're on lockdown"
"Lockdown?! What are you talking about?"
>"They let STALLIONS in the tack dance club?," Skydancer asks
>"They let in who I tell them to," Durril replies
>"We have a situation," 47 says calmly, but you can see he's concerned
"What kind of situation?"
>"Unrest on the streets," he replies. "We're to shelter in place"
>"Holy shit!," Skydancer exclaims, "There's a full blown riot on the streets of Brooklyn right now!"
"What the fuck is going on?"
>"Your pegasus friend summed it up neatly, Ma'am," 47 responds
>"You keep her safe!," Durril demands
>"That's the plan," 47 answers
"Um, girls? I think I've got to go"

I wonder what happened this time. good update
>pay your former organization their out call rates plus take them out
I never knew how much I wanted that. /SPG/ is all about power imbalances in personal relationships, and that would be an interesting one. On the one hoof they would be just friends like old times, but on the other... like with other things, she has VP Johns limitless resources behind her if he thinks it would sell ads.

>"You have the same hungry look Skydancer's had
Part of me wants to call bullshit, but part of being a professional is developing a sense for these things.

>Now I know exactly what all of you are worth.
Mentioned that a while back; she must know her own previous value too and probably processed the payment. She’s wise to keep her muzzle shut if they don’t already know, somepony would always get hurt, but the girls must all be VERY curious about that. Just one more barrier between them.

>cucked so she can give birth to a unicorn foal
Was thinking the same thing! Not sure the word applies to an infertile couple, and shopping for the ‘doner’ and doing other things with and too him together could be pretty hot... they might adopt a human sibling as well.

>You don't like talking that way to him, but he seems to prefer it
Mare is so kind, so wise. This is exactly the situation where 47 has to be at his most professional, where there’s an unpredictable situation unfolding outside, but Mare might not be wise enough to realize it or *quite* kind enough to care. 47 might be in for a rough night one way or another.

Love your story, thanks for updating.
That is a dangerous level of smug
>limitless resources behind her if he thinks it would sell ads.
Or maybe Mares organization could make a Blinders Off style televised round table discussion BE the ad. I can’t think of a better one.
>the ad.
They're operating both the dungeon Sky works at as well as a filly brothel. They might advertise the tack dance club, but I'd assume the rest of their operations are carried out with utmost discretion. The clients would demand that. No one would go to a dungeon run by mares or a brothel of fillies if they thought there was a chance of it becoming public knowledge. When mare talks about her upbringing people (and ponies) are usually shocked. I'd think the organization keeps the existence of both on a need to know basis.
>advertising on a ‘need to know’ basis
You make good points about discretion, but this is a business not a conspiracy. A sponsored talk show with mares who love their work and identity with their role, without explicit mentioning the exact business address like a regular ad, might be the right balance to strike.
I hate this Cog guy already. Selfish, overconfident, asshole. Like he does not have to perform in life. He expects that since he's so talented that a few right doings once a while keeps him alive and drugged. This has to change.
>Still drugged
Thats some high.
I like these parts. SF has to has to compensate for being a captain with being the target of love/affection once a while. More frequently now as the pressure is increasing. Anon seems chill about it, and loves taking care of her.
>flight muscles, leading edges
Lewd. And she does not even calls out on it. Its beyond sexual now, its just caring.
Busted when? (I hope never)
I don't think she will have any problem with him. They will just exchange 4 sentences:
- Do want or need to learn this stuff?
- No.
- Good off you go then.
- Good.
But they will have problems with everyone else.
>microwaved , frozen
No one wants to travel to the city/village/whatever huh?
>Gerard on Alicia
And the second species in the who do Alicia hates the most will go to the griffons in minutes.

The whole team still feels like its built from throwaways, and act like there is 0 cohesive force between them besides the job.

Thanks for the update!
>lewding the Rosa the whole update.
No, no, bad writefag.
She is a pure being.
The amount of smegma on Terry's dick and in Sky's vag must be quite high.
>locked away
Wow, interesting way of treating it. Wonder if the stallions have a special class to deal with mares in heat if they were to be assigned with one together on the job.
>Rosa obeying
I feel that Rosa will listen to Sky from now on. At least listen to her more, even if its against her will/judgement.
>Sky's situation
Why didn't she just moved to a different city already? Small time drug cartels tend to be localized I imagine.
Waiting for it to snap back at Rosa.
Its the second time she gave it away. Does she not like it?
He likes the well used hobo pussy, or is it the only thing he can catch?
>young flank
Sky gone into full predator mode. Is she going into heat?
>butts, rumps or flanks
>tail on fire
>second tail
Good ones.
Rosa mentioned a few times already that she will make the place more livable, but so far did nothing.
Seems like Bluegrass just wanted to find something, anything.
So both the Lillian and cutie mark thing are a dead end so far. They are just threading the water.
>spoiler part
You forgot to spoiler it. I totally forgot that so far there is no Anon in this green. Will he be the one?

Thanks for the update!
>She is a pure being.
I really enjoy seeing her have to confront her prudishness in such uncomfortable ways. It's a big part of the story's charm.
> You nearly sigh with relief when it's just Terry and Sky Light, cuddling. The human is fully dressed and the mare is almost hidden as the small spoon. As you watch her hind hoof, which is sticking out from under Terry's coat, twitches.
> The pony murmurs something and jerks her wing with a rustle of feathers, but doesn't wake up. As if responding, Terry reaches up and pats her muzzle, after which she licks his fingers.
> Then they are still again.
Honestly? The story needed this. Bad. It's been so emotionally draining for so long that just a small moment of comfy and cute is desperately needed. And how comfy and cute it was!

>Locking away mares in heat
Huh. I guess they don't have suppressant drugs in this 'verse.

> "... like Area 51 or something!"
Oh boy, this is going to go well. Rosa gonna learn to Naruto run too?

> Death Valley
Doublekek. "Okay, so we're going to sneak out through this godforsaken hellhole desert, past the helicopters and cameras and fences, and then we find her and sneak back out again... will we have enough water? Oh yeah, don't worry!"
>bald mare
>no mane to stroke
No Spitfire tonight. I got tied up in some stuff and didn't have time to deliver. Sorry!

>Maybe go into how she and other batponies feel about their fangs sometime?
>Not to harp about it, but Spitfire should ask her about Luna sometime or have a specific reason not to.
Might be able to combine these into one, though it would slow down the larger plot some more. General question for anyone, is that a problem? Is the story's pacing feeling too slow right now? Too fast?

>That suspense is there for me too, if you want to exploit it.
That's what I'm focusing most on next (at the moment).

Always welcome!

>Hating Cog
Huh. I viewed him more with pity than hatred when I wrote this stage of him, but I can definitely see that angle. Especially considering the pressures on the rest of the crew. Another thought for an addition I could insert here...
>too slow? Or time for side story?
I was the guy you were replying to so obviously I want those ideas explored, but I think you’re going slow enough now as it is. Not complaining, it’s a good pace, but not the time to get bogged down. Spitfire and Kalendae will have some other opportunity for conversation later.

>hating Cog
He’s not a sympathetic character for me either, but he does serve to put our protagonists in a difficult situation and drive the plot. I’ve known self destructive people like that; he’s quite well drawn.
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>As we drove in van , Vasya suddenly pushed gas mask on my and Rarity’s face. Then van stopped.
>“We have got there.”
>As door opened, I saw Arbat.
“Wait, this isn’t Equestria.”
>“Of course, ceasefire ended after all.”
>This could not be true.
“But you promised-”
>“Look, here is the deal. Arbat land costs very little now. We buy it, wait for a year or so for Center to be reclaimed and repaired, then we rent rebuilt housing and live like a kings.”
>My breath slowed down.
“Well, that is a good offer, but let’s hurry to Equestria. Sugarcube Corner closes in two hours after all.”
>Anon gasped and refuted:
>“Look, we are not going to sacrifice our lives for you. Human borderguards are dealt with, but yours… After usage of chemical weapons, I don’t think they will be interested to know whether we are civilians or military.”
>Suddenly Rarity shouted:
>“These humans are lying! They try to scam us again!”
“No, they are not. They would not sell out to Exile and tried to make fortune on magic books and artifacts themselves instead.”
There was no way. Except one. Out.
>When I put off mask, my lungs started itching a little. As I walked towards Pushkin Statue, Anon shouted:
>“Chemicals didn’t disperse yet! Come back!”
>But I wasn’t listening. So much sacrifices, efforts – all for nothing. Soon, white unicorn stood nearby me.
“Rarity, come back. You are Element of harmony, after all, sooner or later they will rescue you.”
>Unicorn coughed and smiled at me.
>“No, there is no place for Generocity in Russia.”
>As world started to blur, I noticed Vasya nearby.
>“Trixie, for once, put off the act. Why you didn’t ran off in embassy during ceasefire? What do you want? Glory? Respect? Money?”
As my chest burned, I wanted to answer, but couldn’t find any words. Yet shout from the van came.
>“Vasya, I don’t care, I am getting them back in homeworld.”
>“Anon, are you ou-”
>“And I will give them antidote we prepared for ourselves just in case.”
>As that, Vasya put gas masks back on us and walked us back in van.
>As antidote was given, blur increased, becoming something of itself new vision, oly to suddenly be shaken off who knows how much time later. As blur cycled back to normal picture, doors opened.
>There was Empire’s main square right in front of us. Crystal houses, crystal floor, crystal ponies taking my former owners somewhere. As we went out, Cadence greeted us.
>“Welcome back. It is nice to see you in good shape.”
>Still, it is not Equestria yet.
“Mind if I ask, what are you going to do to them?”
>“Reintegration, of course.”
>I am not sure what this ominous word means in current context, but it is surely not most humane procedure.
“Maybe you let those two back? They saved us, after all.”
>“They are humans, Trixie. Trixie should be taught lessons of friendship.”
“Well, maybe we ask them first whether they need those lessons?”
>“It is not for them to decide.”
“And for who then? Purple bitch? Celestia? Princess Luna?”
>“Who called me?”
>That sudden line belonged to Her Highness. My supreme commander. The whole world dissapeared. Just me and she.
“Wait, how I did not notice- oh. Your Highness, each time my dreams become more realistic and more prophetic, it is disturbing as Tartarus. What can I do about it?”
>“First, you can stop watching so much human media, especially movies. How is your progress, Trixie?”
>So, even in dreams I cannot rest from work.
“Did you lie to me about being first contacted unicorn form human world? Rarity is without restriction as well, and I don’t believe she came up with enchantments herself.”
>Her Highness smiled at me.
>“The less you know-”
“-the less I could tell to interrogator, right. Yet, Your Highness, can I ask for similar service?”
>Princess frowned.
>“For sure, my dear one. But not by me. Come, my little, grab my hoof.”
>I obeyed before I understood it, and we suddenly happened somewhere else.
>Thousands of human shapes stood in shadows, indistinguishable one from another. And between them, Starlight ran.
>As she tried to reach any of them, light dropped on them one by one, as they dropped dead. She rushed, becoming more desperate each touch, each fallen.
>After fall of at least twelve, she gave up and sat on ground, only for light to drop on whole place. Suddenly, standing shapes became pile of dead bodies. Yet some of them were still alive, heavily breathing and screaming in agony. Agony Starlight shared with them.
>Climbing over this pile, I walked to my crying friend and placed hoof on her shoulder.
“It is not only you who cannot rest, my dear, dear friend.”
>“I… I just did what I was ordered. It is not my fault, right?”
“Hush, Starlight, relax, it is just a bad dream.”
>Finally, she turned to me.
>“Trixie? What are you doing here?”
“Sadly, I am here for work matters. I need your help.”
>She brushed away here tears.
>“What are you doing, Trixie? Why you were so mean in Embassy?”
“Because in these harsh times we have no time for sentiments. Had, at least. Here, in dreams, I believe we have all time in the world.”
>She jumped on me and hugged.
>“I was so worried. I feared you were tortured.”
“Don’t worry, Starlight, I was.”
>Maybe my smile and bitter sarcasm was out of place at this moment.
>“Then… why you cooperate with humans?”
“Because they are just as interested in peace as we are.”
>Starlight released me from hug.
“Look, don’t punish yourself for these soldiers. War is war.”
>“No, these are not who I killed. Not directly, at least.”
>So, at least, it is not PTSD. Good enough already.
>“Captured humans… they run off to Everfree. For some reason, our nice attitude is scarier for them than ancient monsters.”
“By chance, do you perform brainwashing with them?”
>“No! I mean… only a little. We just pacify them! For our and their safety!”
“And you wonder why they run off?”
>“Is that so much of a deal for them to practically kill themselves?”
>Turns out that yes.
“That was one of the reasons why exchange didn’t happen, right? You are simply lacking POW you got and don’t want to admit it?”
>She nodded.
>“It is… insanity. I am glad other ponies are in charge of it and I work at embassy now.”
“So, about helping me…”
>“What do you need?”
“Enchantments. Spell scriptures. Artifacts.”
>Starlight frowned.
>“You too? Look, creating one drug already is more than enough for-”
“No, it is for excavation. I run oil company, after all.”
>My friend laughed.
>“So you really decided to become billionaire?”
“Technically, I already am, so… Wait, so can you assist me?”
>“Of course, what would you do without me.”

>“… But for that enchantments are not enough, you would need to direct spell 8 km deep, and that is possible with only something like Alicorn Amulet.”
>Ah shit, here we go again.
“Can you get it for me next time we meet?”
>Starlight frowned.
“Don’t look that way at me, I used it already, I know the precautions.”
>“I will try. Now, can you help me in return?”
“You name it.”
>“As you remember, our common friend disappeared six month ago, and Fluttershy worries a lot about him. You know who am I talking about, right?”
>Wait, common friend… Fluttershy…
“Look, if get who you mean correctly, I wouldn’t call him a friend, but yes, I met him. And he became Russian official. Looks like he has great time in this world.”
>“Why am I not surprised?”
>After some laugh, we continued.
>“Can you tell him that there are those who wait him back in Ponyville. Could he at least write a letter to her?”
“Okay. Speaking of common friends, I could use help of professional geologist from our world. Is it possible to get Mod in human world?”
>While I smiled, Starlight did not.
>“You see, she is already.”
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That is it for now, after i get more booze i will continue writing. Also need to find more pics first posts that fit narrative and find new inspiration for dream sequances. Pastebin of chapter 2: https://pastebin.com/puvZ4HQs
Summary of first chapter: https://pastebin.com/fHVkRZaK
Whole first chapter: https://pastebin.com/wgaVqQ0u
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thats pretty creative imho
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>Is it possible to get Mod in human world?”
>>While I smiled, Starlight did not.
>>“You see, she is already.”
Ok, I'll just give up and ask directly - how do I read this? Thoughts are POV too?
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Thoughts is >without "
lines of others are >"
line of POV is just "
or what do you misunderstand?
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>tfw there isn't a gif of a cute little maid mare doing picrelated
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> The first time Cog Whirl goes up in the plane is a sight to behold.
> He sits, still to a tail-hair, as the monstrous plane rumbles down the water and claws its way airborne.
> Not even seeming to notice the awkwardly-shaped for-pony headset mounted on his head.
> Alicia sits stony-faced beside him at the flight engineer’s station - deigning to allow him to watch her at work.
> Whatever Gerard had said to her must have been worth something.
> Unfortunately, Cog seemed far too caught up in the experience to be paying attention to the finer details of her operations.
> Especially once the keel pulled free of the water.
> It was almost amusing - you knew many unicorns and earth ponies had to be pulled out of their panic during their first experiences with flight back in Equestria.
> Just like everything else turned upside-down in this world, Cog would have to be pulled from his indulgence in the experience instead.
> Today was Kalendae’s turn practicing in the copilot’s seat, leaving you to handle the intransigent stallion.
“Hey, Cog. C’mon. Wake up and focus. I know that stuff’s out of your system, so focus.”
> “Sorry, I’m just-”
> His voice has been given an odd buzzing overlayer by the intercomm system and headsets.
> “-I can’t get over it. This thing is - every other time I’ve been on a plane, I’ve been in a crate. This is the first time I could really feel…”
> A hoof stretches out to stroke the console.
> “...it’s incredible.”
“Yeah, Cog. But focus now. Remember what we’re here to do. That means eyes on the dials, okay? Watch that oil pressure. No, not that one. That’s the hydraulic pressure.”
> He does, but only with constant prompting.
> Down the drugs that had polluted his system, Cog’s shifted into something more worrisome than his previous lethargy:
> A kind of jittery jumpiness whenever he wasn’t focused on his ‘talent’.

> Half actual withdrawal from the drugs, you think, and half nervousness at having to really focus again.
> Eventually you’re pulled away from his side, taking your turn in the copilot’s position.
> When you glance back, though, Kalendae has joined him in your place.
> ...maybe even a little closer than your place; rather than use the flight deck intercomm, she was speaking directly into one turned ear of his and had even produced a small smile on his face.
> That’s enough to make you smile a touch before you turn back to your own controls and continue with Renaud’s next training exercise.
> When the day is done you intercept Cog before he can get off the plane.
“Well? What’d you think?”
> “That was…”
> He lifts a hoof to brush a bulkhead with an almost reverent touch.
> “...this plane is old, Spitfire. Probably older than either of us.”
“How did you know that?”
> “Knew I was right! It’s all in the vibrations. I can - feel it. Aching, creaking. This old thing doesn’t have too much longer in it.”
“Is it dangerous?”
> “I don’t think so. Nothing sounds like it’s going to fall apart. Except the number three engine; it sounds - off.”
> “Yeah. I’m not sure what, but you’d better have them look at it.”
“...okay, but aside from that - how did you feel about your actual job? Do you feel like you’re able to handle it?”
> Cog doesn’t respond immediately.
> Instead he stands aside as the rest of the crew files out, hopping into one of the waiting motorboats.
> “I need a hit, Spitfire. You need to get them to dose me.”
> Your body hardens up, a scowl settling over your features and ears snapping back.
“What the hell, Cog?”
> He whirls around, planting a hoof on the bulkhead directly behind you.
> In direct contrast to his earlier gentleness, this was a heavy, thudding blow that left you nearly ducking for cover.

> In direct contrast to his earlier gentleness, this was a heavy, thudding blow that left you nearly ducking for cover.
> “A hit, Spitfire! A high! A lozzie or some shit like that! Get me some fuckin-”
> “Spitfire? Everything okay in there?”
> Both of you freeze.
“...just a second, Anonymous!”
> Your singsong voice fails to hide the tension in it, but again you are thankful that he trusts you enough to not see what is obviously wrong.
> You look back to the stallion a second later, fury filling your eyes and coat bristling.
“Sweet Celestia, Cog. You know I can’t do that-”
> “Then I can’t work.”
> Cog spreads his stance, leaning in and lowering his horn as if preparing to charge.
> “You wanna just dump me into the middle of all this shit and think I’m going to live with it? Uh-uh. Go chew clouds, featherbrain. All I can think about is what one little fuckup will do to this old plane, with that woman ready to bite my head off anyway.”
“Drugging yourself isn’t going to make any of that go away-”
> “Inside me it will!”
“Choking your head on that stuff is not healthy-”
> “Look at your both, arguing like foals.”
> Kalendae’s proclamation intrudes on the argument, silencing you both.
> She looks between each of you, her face a picture of half a snarl of frustration and half a sneer.
> What’s even more interesting to you, however, is Cog’s reaction.
> He actually retreats; a flicker of real fear in his eyes.
> But why…?
> Kalendae stalks around Cog in a slow, almost predatory circle.
> “Do you truly think this act will let you perform better?”
> “Well, I - I can’t - can’t work real well when I’m just fuckin’ getting in and everybody’s looking right at me-”
> Wheeling around, Kalendae lifts a hindleg and firmly plants it into his ribs; he jumps back, seeming more shocked than hurt.
> Even so, you are having none of it.
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“Kalendae! That’s enough. We don’t beat ponies to make them obey-”
> “This is not about ‘obeying’. It is his own sake.”
> She rounds on Cog again, displaying a snarling mouth full of very non-pointed teeth.
> “So, do you still want a dose? Want to slip off into your little dreamworld?”
> For a moment you think the stallion is going to back down.
> But then he rallies, lowering his head and snorting as though ready to charge.her.
> “Yes. I do You know what? You two - two military mares are acting like I’m just one of you. Like I know how to take it. But you know what? I don’t. All I can think about is how when this is all over… I’m still not going to have anything to go back to.”
> “In the end I’m still alone. Maybe I’ll just sell myself back into this if they do free me. So if I can go through this without having that weighing on my head? Damn right I will.”
> “Fine.”
> Kalendae looks over at you; her eyes are narrowed, but some mischief dances in them.
> “My Captain, I suggest we accede to his request and grant this stallion what he desires.”
“Kalendae, I don’t think-”
> “And then-”
> She rounds back on him again, wings half-spread in the small space.
> “-then, I will show you how wrong you are. Because I will be with you. In every moment. In every second. I will be there to show you, Cog Whirl, that you are not alone.”


> This time, you remember not to come in through the window.
> Anonymous raises an eyebrow in question at your sour demeanor instead, which you take to be something approximating a note of thanks.
> “So, what’s Cog up to over there?”
“Right now?”
> “Yeah. You’ve been working with him for what - twelve hours since they dosed him? What’re you trying to do?”
> You clamber up into a chair and quickly set about checking one wing to see if it needs a fresh preening.

“At first, he was mostly staring at the console layout charts and giggling. Completely off the wall for a while. Logic Gate told us it’d be a few hours.”
> “So you’ve just been waiting around for him to cool off?”
> You look up with a grim, toothy grin.
> “That look’s giving me a tight sphincter here, Spits.”
> Kalendae would have done it better, but judging by Anonymous’ reaction you’re a suitable substitute.
“Good. Because that’s exactly how Cog is going to feel. Kalendae and I went about making totally sure he didn’t get a second’s break. And we’re not going to stop.”
> “Are you sure that’s a good idea? If he freezes up-”
“He won’t. Because we’re not going to torment him. Just teach him a couple things: One, that drugs aren’t an escape. He doesn’t get off because just because he’s completely smashed on Lozzies.”
> Anonymous doesn’t look particularly convinced.
> “I’d be afraid he’d just - refuse to work until we sent him off somewhere different, where he could browbeat them into letting him get stoned all the time.”
“I know it’s a risk. But I don’t think he will, because two - two, we’re going to teach him that he’s wanted. That he does have something to come back to when this is done.”
> You pause, the expression fading a degree.
“...or at least, Kalendae’s thinking that way. It’s inspiring, let me tell you. And I think she’s doing right. So this time, I’m following her lead.”
> “Alright, Spits.”
> Extending a hand, Anonymous ruffles your mane a touch.
> “If you say so, I guess I’ll stand behind it as well. Certainly sounds good, it’s just…”
“You’re worried it’ll all collapse and we’ll end up looking like foals.”
> “Dead on.”
“Yeah. I know it. But I wasn’t kidding when I told Gerard it’d tear us apart to just kick Cog out. So if he still can’t? Well than at least we damn tried.”

> “You’ve been talking to that old bird?”
“Outside of our practice runs? Yeah. What do you think of him?”
> “As a navigator?”
> He shrugs.
> “He’s competent. More than competent. But… distant. That’s really what I’m afraid of.”
“Don’t I know it.”
> “Well, if he can do his job I’ll take it.”
> Sitting up and shrugging off Anonymous’ hand, you stretch forcefully.
> Damn, you were stiff.
> Not getting nearly enough flight exercise - first sitting around learning, then teaching!
“Hey, Anonymous? I’m going to go take a quick flight around before the sun goes down. I’ll be back later.”
> “Sure thing.”
> Being well into the early summer measure plenty of easy thermals to ride up as you climb, so you’ve barely broken a sweat as you come to altitude.
> Up here, the air is cold and refreshing too.
> The land, magnificent.
> But-
> Wait.
> There, amid the trees lining one of the hillsides bracketing the lake.
> A flicker of movement again, hard to spot against the gently-shifting branches.
> Is your pony stalker back?
> Dashing through the trees, only to slip away when you gave pursuit?
“Oh, no. Not this time!”
> Not again.
> Banking hard, you turn for the hillside and accelerate.
> Briefly you ponder turning back to get Kalendae - a flanking ally would be helpful here - before discarding the idea.
> If you lost this quarry now, they’d vanish again.
> ...plus Kalendae was probably asleep now - putting up with Cog during the day exhausted her.
> The idea of going to get Gerard is dismissed out of hoof.
> No, this was between two pegasi.
> Banking on another thermal, you dance slowly above the treetops - a vantage point from which they could not so easily give you the slip.
> Of course, if they just stayed still they could be harder to spot, but-
> Wings tucking, you roll into a hard dive.
> -there was a plan for that.

> You pierce the treetops like a bullet, wings snapping open and catching wind just below the canopies.
> For any lesser pony this would be suicide, but a Wonderbolt’s instincts are good.
> Ignoring the pain in your wing-shoulders as vertical speed transitions to horizontal, you weave through the trunks for just a second.
> Blurs of green and brown, branches reaching out like claws, whiz by you -
> - and, climb!
> Two quick beats carry you up through the canopy again, back to your over-watch position…
> ...and just like you’d expected, there was your prey.
> Fooled into thinking your feinting dive meant you would be confusedly poking around treetops, they had again taken to wing.
> The advantage wasn’t for long.
> Your quarry soon realized you were back on their tail and commenced a series of skillful dodging weaves, never letting you glimpse their half-seen form for more than a second.
> But you are better.
> Curving around a particularly thick tree, you extend your hooves to reach out and snag them-
> And grasp nothing but air.
> What?!
> He’d evaded you?
> Whirling in place, you search for any sign of the elusive pony.
> But - nothing.
> Nothing!
> With a wordless cry you slam a hoof into a tree-branch; it splinters under the impact, but does not return the mystery quarry.
> Not again!
> You were so close!
> With a snarl you spread your wings and turn back towards the airfield - thunderclouds hanging over your head.

Unfortunately, ponies are hard things to fix once they're broken. Cog might be a problem, but the other options aren't much better...

Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/zKnTieaA
It's Lurker time
Pillow case is a fucking incel and her hoodie smells

Very nice, I’ve been enjoying the pace so far but I’m easy to please on that front. Slower pace just means I get more to read.

> Apparently your miserable expression is the real ticket to wealth on the street. Sky Light simply can't shut up about it, even when you'd like her to.
> "Man, that one guy actually had *tears* in his eyes! You're a natural, Rosa!" the pegasus is praising.
> You just sigh sadly. Of course you're happy for the mare - she's one good mooch away from paying off her debt - but you can't stop thinking of precious little Lillian. Giving up your search feels like betraying her all over again.
> However much you tried explaining it to Sky Light she just shot you down. She said it wasn't your fault, but even her assurance isn't enough to convince you. Lillian ran away because she missed you.
> That's the long and the short of it. You still know the pegasus is right - there's almost zero chance you could find her. She did what she could and you won't help the girl any if you go out and get yourself killed through stupidity.
> The best thing is just to move on and hope for the best. It's a hard thing to do.
> Sky Light got you a salad from the fast food joint. It isn't very good, but you chew and swallow anyway. It's been a long time since the vegetables have been fresh, but you keep eating anyway. Sad or not, tasty or not, you can't ignore your body's needs for much longer.
> There's still Maribelle. If you ever find her it will take all your wits and strength to get her out of wherever she is and you need to keep yourself healthy and fit.
> Doesn't make it easy, but you keep repeating the reasoning to yourself and force yourself to eat and drink.
> "Tell you what," Sky Light says, nudging you with a wing to get your attention, "I know a Net Cafe where they allow ponies. Well, actually I know the guy that works night shift. Let's go and see if we can get some news about your girl, okay?"

> Your ears perk up and you look at the mare incredulously.
> She wraps her wing around your withers and smooshes you against her side. "Sure. I'm your bud, Rosa. We gotta stick together, right?"
> All you can do is nod.
> "Incidentally, you gonna finish that?" Sky Light asks, pointing a hoof at your fizzy soda drink.
> You grin and slide it over. Sky Light will always be Sky Light. She loves her junk food and sugar drinks. Apparently she loves other things, too, but you quickly push that thought away. The mare is uncannily good at reading your blushes.
> The pony sticks the straw in her muzzle and sucks greedily. In moments she has emptied the cup, which she follows with a huge belch.
> It just makes her giggle. "Man, I love the feel of bubbles on my tongue."
"It's a good thing you have any teeth left..." you mutter.
> Sky Light just shrugs. "My teeth are fine."
> You don't comment. As long as she isn't stopping you from brushing every night - well, *nearly* every night lately, you don't mind what she does.
> She reaches over and pulls your muzzle to face hers. "You seem distracted, Rosa. What's on your mind?"
> You decide to tell her the truth.
"I was thinking about Maribelle..."
> It takes her a moment's thought to remember the name, then she brightens up. "Good point. We can look around the Internet for that, too. Maybe we'll find something other than Bluegrass."
> The pegasus rubs her muzzle a little and then rummages through her burger wrapper for any bits of cheese stuck to the paper. "That colt is a nice guy, but he's too gullible by half. Did you know he sometimes gets his humans to buy groceries for the gang?"
> You didn't.
"He does?"
> "Yep. This one time, he got Velvet a pack of aspirin for her headache when her heat was really bad."

> That raises some questions and you don't really know which to ask first. Maybe the most troubling one.
"How come Velvet doesn't have foals? You said heat and stallions... well- she's living with Pepper and Butch, no?"
> Sky Light grins knowingly and taps the side of her head. "That's because Velvet is a smart mare. She knows what to expect, so she comes to stay with me when it happens. Nothing like a wing-pony to keep those pesky colts at bay!"
> That actually sounds useful.
"Oh. Okay. Um, does heat make your head hurt?"
> You don't remembers yours doing that. Maybe it took each mare differently?
> "Not usually. That year it was bad because she had a cold at about the same time. Usually, all you get is some cramps, but they aren't too bad."
> That's also something you didn't experience. You try and think back to the time you'd spent in that comfortable, padded room.
"How often does it happen?"
> Maybe Mr. Greiner in Biology had told you, but you don't remember. That's what came from learning for a particular exam and then forgetting it all, you guess.
> "About once a year, usually," Sky Light answers. She seems to think the same thing as you and her ears stand up as she gives you a shocked look. "Are you- soon? When was your last time?"
> It takes a bit of mental calculation and the result makes you feel uneasy.
"Um... about two and a half years ago..."
> The pegasus gasps through her teeth and her ears instantly fold down. "Oh. Yikes. That's- um..."
"W-What?" your voice is trembling in fear.
> Is there something wrong with you? You'd never really talked about these things with your roommates or Instructor Martha. You didn't know what was normal, but Sky Light had sounded so *sure* when she said 'once a year'.

> "It's... unusual," the mare says, trying to put you at your ease.
> You gulp in fear. Have the humans at the School done something to you? Almost without conscious control your forelegs wrap around your midriff.
"I'm w-worried, Sky Light. What if-" you swallow a lump and try again: "What if I won't have heat anymore? M-Maybe they did something to me..."
> It's not a welcome thought. You might not know much about feelings or urges, but you know what heat means. Childbirth. You'd never really considered it, but you always knew there was a possibility, some day.
> Had it been taken from you?
> Humans sometimes... The word now makes you shiver and whimper when you think it: spay.
> Humans sometimes spay their pets.
> "I'm sure you're fine," Sky Light says, once again reading you like an open book. "Tell you what, we'll go see a friend of mine. She's a vet and she'll take a look at you. How many times have you gone into heat?"
> "Well, maybe you're just a late bloomer. It can be a bit irregular the first couple of times. Maybe you've had it, but it was so mild you didn't really notice?"
> You grasp the hope and cling to it as if to a life line.
> "You only got your cutie mark just now. You were supposed to get one a lot sooner. Don't worry, you're just a late bloomer," Sky Light repeats. "We should still keep an eye out for when it happens."
> The mare chuckles a bit. "Terry can help you out. I'm sure he wouldn't mind some cute, young flank."
> You're already shaking your head and she laughs heartily, mostly to dispel the tension. "Okay, in that case I'll help you out. I know my way around a mare, don't worry!"
> She gives you the kind of wink you fear might set fire to your mane. Almost without thinking you go to shake your head, but then pause.

> Between the two of your current friends, Sky Light might be the better choice. You nod, instead.
"We'll- I'll see... maybe."
> Her suggestion has worked, though. You're not paralyzed with fear anymore, but rather slightly optimistic. Sky Light's explanation with your cutie mark makes sense. You've learned about puberty in Biology, and then once again from Instructor Martha.
> If your cutie mark came in that late, maybe your heat will, too. That first one was probably just a fluke.
> You relax and nibble some more on your salad.
"Thanks, Sky Light," you murmur, leaning against the warm, fluffy pegasus.
> "Don't mention it. You're my little girl and I'll look after you, deal?"
> She's gotten over her anger, but you still feel like you should mention it.
"Sorry about- running away."
> The mare laughs a little. "Don't worry. The haul we had today more than makes up for it. Thanks."
> You can't help feeling optimistic about the future. With Sky Light anything is possible.
"If we find where they take ponies with cutie marks, we'll go look for Maribelle, right?"
> Sky Light nods, which you feel against your head rather than see. "Sure. We'll go look for her," she confirms and it makes you smile.
> "Now, how about some ice cream? My treat!"
> You smack your lips appreciatively.
"Mmmm, yes please!"
> "Okay, finish your salad while I go get it. A growing mare like you needs all the food she can get."
> She's laughing when she trots off and you stick your tongue out at her, even though she isn't looking back.
> Maybe everything is going to be alright.

> ~~~~

> "Hey Mario!" Sky Light greets the lanky, acne-ridden young man at the counter. He jerks, as if he was just dozing, then smiles at the mare.
> "Oh, it's you," he comments, feigning annoyance. "What is it this time?"

> "C'mere, you goof," the pegasus says and the human obediently steps out from behind his desk and leans down so she can give him a hug.
> "Mario, this is Rosa," she introduces. "Well, 'Mario' is just what I call him. His actual name is Taylor."
"Um, hi."
> You offer a hoof and the young man shakes it politely, before focusing his attention on Sky Light again.
> "What do you need?"
> The pegasus lifts a foreleg to her chest and folds down her ears, as if hurt. "Need? Aw, can't a mare come around to say hi to an old friend every once in a while?"
> She can't keep her face straight, though, and giggles a little. Luckily Taylor - 'Mario' - doesn't mind. "Okay, what's up?" he asks.
> "We're looking for secrets. I thought you could help us out - an Internet wiz like yourself."
> The human looks doubtful for a moment, but the flattery makes him grin proudly. "Okay, what are you looking for?"
> Sky Light turns to you and holds up a hoof, as if giving you the stage. You haven't been expecting this and swallow nervously.
"Um- I'm looking for my friend, Maribelle. She was... uh-"
> You look around the shop, but there are no other humans in there. The cashier can probably be trusted, given that Sky Light led you to him.
"She was taken because she got her cutie mark. I think the government has her in some secret lab or something."
> Now the young man can't hide his excited grin. "Ooh, a conspiracy! Love me some of that kooky stuff every once in a while."
> He goes to the nearest table with a computer on it and sits down. The pegasus starts to follow him, then looks back and gives you an encouraging smile. "Come on."
> You take a step, but use the opportunity when you're away from the man to ask the question.
"Why do you call him 'Mario'?"

> Sky Light chuckles at the question and the man looks back, making you blush in embarrassment. The pegasus just answers loudly enough for both of you to hear. "Oh, that's easy. I call him 'Mario' because it's his favourite video game. First time we met - man, that's funny story!"
> It looks like the young man is blushing! You stare at him, then back to the pegasus, who is sitting on her haunches and rubbing her hooves together in giddy anticipation.
> "Take a load of this," she tells you, "I was mooching outside the shop one day and this doofus comes out with a doughnut and coffee for me."
> That's actually kinda sweet and you smile at them both.
"How nice!"
> "Well, you'll never guess what he did next!" Sky Light says. You see that the young man is hurriedly busying himself with the computer and pretending he isn't paying you two any attention. Too bad you can see his ears turning red.
"What?" you ask in a whisper, suddenly insanely curious.
> "He asked me out on a date!" Sky Light laughs. "Can you imagine? Not just that - it was at *his place*!"
> That would sound creepy, even to your inexperienced ears. Sky Light sees your expression and waves a dismissive hoof. "Don't worry, I saw he was harmless. Just really, *really* bad with girls. That's why he thought he might have better luck with a pony."
> You shake your head. On the one hand you want Sky Light to stop - it's making Taylor obviously uncomfortable, but on the other hand you want to know more. Feeling guilty, you keep your mouth shut and let the pegasus continue.
> "Anyway, we get there and - check this - he shows me his video games. Talk about a mood killer! We ended up playing something called 'Super Mario 64' until like three in the morning. That's why I call him 'Mario'."

> You roll your eyes. She could have just told you that last bit, without embarrassing the human like she had. You wonder why he didn't say anything or get angry.
> Maybe you should say something. Tell him it's okay and Sky Light is just an asshole sometimes, but the mare beats you.
> "I promised I'd teach him how to talk to girls and in return he'll let me surf the Internet every once in a while. How's Alison doing?"
> Now the young man stirs. "She's fine. You should come over for lunch sometime."
"Alison? Who's Alison?"
> Sky Light answers so Taylor doesn't have to. "His girlfriend. What can I say? I'm *good*. I had to kick him over and then stomp on his foot to get a sound out of him, but he did great. They've been dating for what - four months now?"
> "Five," Taylor corrects.
> Sky Light nods. "Yeah, five. Sounds about right. I could see she thought he was cute the moment I saw her. All he needed was to make a move."
> The mare nudges Taylor friend with a hoof. "She's no pony tail, but that rump looked cute, even for a human."
> Just like that his blush is back. You give Sky Light an annoyed look, but she just laughs. A thought occurs, but you wisely decide not to ask. You're wondering if he and Sky Light ever did anything. Maybe it's best you don't know. The mare is too promiscuous by half as it is. You don't need to meet *all* her ex-boyfriends. Besides, you're on a mission.
> A glance at the screen shows that Taylor has been busily searching while Sky Light was talking. It's a good thing he takes your quest a little more seriously.
"Anything?" you ask to change the topic.
> The human is glad of the distraction and points out a picture on the screen. It looks flat and gray, with some tiny, white smudges in the middle. "This says it's in Death Valley," he points out.

> Sky Light nods. "Yeah, that's what we heard, too."
> Taylor is shaking his head. "It's fake. Just a kook with a conspiracy theory. He says they do experiments on ponies and crap like that."
> You swallow in fear, worried it might be true, but Taylor spots your expression and puts his hand in your mane.
> "Don't worry, I'm positive it's full of shit. Tell you what - I'll do some digging around on the message boards. Come by tomorrow and I'll tell you what I find out."
> Sky Light slides her head under his arm as well and the man smoothly brings his other hand to take care of her ears, too.
> You close your eyes and sigh in comfort.
> "Cute," Sky Light says and you blink as you look at her. She's smiling.
> "Don't move. Mario, get your phone, take a photo of this," the pegasus urges.
> You obediently freeze, making sure you don't move a muscle on your face. You wonder what she's seeing.
> The human rummages in his pocket and hurriedly aims the camera at you. Aside from turning your eyes to look at it, you try and stay absolutely still.
> "Priceless," Taylor says at last. He shows the picture to Sky Light, who chuckles.
> "Aww, you gotta print that out for me!" she demands.
"What?! Lemme see! Lemme see!"
> He turns the phone towards you.
> You couldn't help it. The picture is adorable, even if it's your mug on it. Your ears are at half-mast, your nose is scrunched up in pleasant surprise and your tongue is poking out. The weird thing is you don't even remember doing any of those things.
> The magic power of human fingers, it seems.
> "Yeah, sure. I'll make a couple of prints tomorrow," Taylor promises.
> You wouldn't mind having that. If you ever see Lillian again, you'll give her it to remember you by.

> While the human is putting his phone away, Sky Light rummages in her saddle bag and brings out a bank note. "Here, get us three coffees."
> Taylor starts shaking his head and pushes the money back towards the pegasus, but she glares a little and places her hoof over his hand.
> "God dammit, I can pay for coffee every now and then. Just take it and go do your job, you goof!"
> Taylor grins at the jab, but he still takes the money and walks over to the bar.
"Thanks. I'll get the next one," you promise Sky Light.
> "Don't worry about it," she says. "We earned this together, right?"
"How much more?"
> Her eyes go unfocused as she silently calculates. "I think we got about eighty bucks now. I'll have to count it at the van. I guess one more mooch tomorrow and we should be good."
"Do we need any money for- um... the vet?"
> Saying it makes your ears lower. You feel too much like a pet when you think about seeing a veterinarian about your problems.
> "Dunno. Maybe if she has to run some tests. Rachelle is a friend, she won't charge for her time. We'll see when we see her, okay?"
> You nod.
> This mooching stuff is getting easier, at least when Sky Light is with you. Maybe it wouldn't be an absolutely horrible way to live.
> The human is back with a tray and three coffees on it. One of them is a cup, but the other two are mugs. You're grateful for that - it's much easier to grasp with hooves. You guess Sky Light had taught him that.
> "Thanks," the pegasus says, chooses one and slurps it a little.
> Her muzzle comes away white and you do a double take.
> Sky Light grins. "Cream on top. It's a special recipe I came up."
> The man sighs a little. "I told you, it's called 'mochaccino'. It's been invented before."

> The pegasus just sticks her tongue out at him, which makes you laugh. You reach for your own cup and see that it's the same as Sky Lights.
> It does look tasty, so you carefully sip a little.
> Yeah, the cream really works well with this coffee. You let out a pleasurable sigh.
> "See who about what?" Taylor asks, apparently having heard the tail end of your discussion with Sky Light.
> "Oh, Rosa thinks they might have snipped her, so we're going to see Rachelle tomorrow." The way she put it stings a little and you look down into your drink to hide your frown.
> "Snipped?" Taylor asks, confused.
> Sky Light sighs. "Spayed. Her tubes tied. Neutered."
> That makes the young man gasp and he quickly puts a hand in your mane. For a moment you want to shake him off, but his fingers around your ear are at least a small comfort.
> "Shit, I'm sorry Rosa. I hope it's not that, for what it's worth."
> You just nod sadly. Stupid insensitive pegasus has made you think about it again, and you were doing so well!
> Sky Light seems to recognize her mistake and slides closer along the floor so she can hug you with a wing. "Sorry," she says sadly. "I didn't mean to put it like that. I'm sure you're fine."
> You just nod. Sky Light is just Sky Light. She's very... direct. You guess that's what living on the streets does to you.
> The coffee is still good, so you take comfort in that. Not to mention that the young man knows his way around a mare's ears. You can't help leaning against his touch.
> Tomorrow you'll know for sure.
> "Okay, now here's another thing we need you to look up," Sky Light says. "Remember that senator's daughter who went missing?"

> ~~~~

> "Say aaah!" the graying but very friendly woman in the white lab coat commands.
> She presses your tongue down with a stick of wood and looks down your throat. "Hmm," she says. "Good."
> You're a bit nervous, but that's normal. Physical examinations always made you feel nervous, even back at the School.
> The good thing is that this Rachelle doesn't seem to care about your cutie mark, nor the fact that you're homeless. She seems friendly enough and she obviously cares about Sky Light.
> "I'd say you're in perfect health," comes the verdict. "And such a good girl!"
> You blush a little, while Rachelle points an accusing finger at the pegasus. "I wish you came in for a physical every once in a while. The clinic has a free program for ownerless ponies, you know?"
> Sky Light just shrugs. "I'm fine, doc."
> "Fine like that time you got stung by a bee?" the woman asks. She looks over to you and mimics with her hands near her face. "Her neck was out to *here* before she came to see me."
> The pegasus just groans and looks pointedly away, but you can't help chuckling. Yeah, it does sound like Sky Light, alright.
> "Okay, let's see about your problem now," Rachelle says and your laughter dies in your throat. Up until now it's just been a regular examination. Now comes the serious part.
> The reason you're there.
> To find out if the humans at the School have spayed you.
> The mere thought leaves a foul taste in your mouth. Up until now you'd thought they were mostly good people, working on educating the ponies under their care and giving them nice, productive jobs.
> If they- if they did this to you, that would make them evil. No other way to put it.
> "Lie down for me, please," Rachelle says, pushing at your flank.

> You obediently flop to your side.
> "Lift," she orders and tugs your hind leg up.
> Again you comply, but you keep looking straight ahead at a wall with a poster. Anatomy of a dog, it looks like. A bit gruesome, even if it is nice and colorful. You still focus on it so you don't have to think about your own inner parts.
> Rachelle's fingers prod along your belly, making you gasp and shiver as she hits sensitive spots. A few times you nearly close your legs, but she's keeping a firm hold on your hoof.
> "Hmm," the vet says thoughtfully.
> Your blood runs cold.
> "No scarring that I can see," the woman murmurs. I'll have to do an ultrasound. Hold still."
> You keep your leg obediently in the air and catch Sky Light's sympathetic gaze. Now that you're here, she's not joking anymore. You can see how she's biting her lip in worry.
> A squeak of wheels makes you look over to where Rachelle is dragging a big, blocky machine over to you. She detaches a probe on a long cable and grabs a bottle from the side. The blocky thing starts to hum and whir.
> "This will feel a bit cold, but it'll be fine in a minute," she warns you.
> She waits for your nod before applying some clear liquid to the device and pressing it against your sensitive skin. There's no fur there and the touch of goo-soaked metal makes you gasp and squirm.
> Luckily Rachelle was ready for that and grabs your hind leg in time. "Hush, it's fine," she says gently.
> In a few moments it really is okay and you relax. You try to see on the screen. You know vaguely what ultrasound is, but you never thought it would be used for this.
> You decide to ask - it would help break the tension a little.
"Isn't ultrasound just for looking at babies before they are born?"

> Rachelle chuckles and releases your leg so she can give your belly a pat. "Normally yes, but it also allows us to see if there's any internal damage. Hold still now."
> You freeze, hardly even daring to breathe. You'd never thought about it before, but so much depends on this test. It could completely change the way your life goes.
> The probe moves against your belly as Rachelle pushes it this way and that, inspecting the screen closely all the time.
> You can't really read anything from it's There's just bright and dark shapes with absolutely no meaning to your untrained eye.
> At long last the woman takes the device away and flips the machine off. She hands you a couple of paper towels to wipe yourself dry while she sprays another bottle on the handheld thing.
> She catches your inquisitive look and explains: "Disinfectant."
> While she finishes you do your best to wipe down your goo-covered skin. It doesn't stick too much, so it's not a big problem and you don't mind if you miss a few spots.
> "Well, the good news is everything is fine down there," Rachelle says, thankfully without any ado.
> You breathe a huge sigh of relief and immediately smile.
"Thank you!"
> Before the woman can continue you sit up and throw your hooves around her. Already you have tears in your eyes.
> "However," the vet says pointedly and you let her go, worry hitting back like a truck. Your ears instantly flop.
> Rachelle repeats: "However, I don't know why you're not going into heat regularly. I'd like to do some more tests. I'll need a blood sample."
> Almost before she's finished talking you've already lifted up your head and presented your neck. It was a standard thing at School so you know what it entails.

> The woman goes to find a needle. She brings back a syringe, wipes and grabs the disinfectant bottle. Then she reaches around for an electric shaver. "I'll have to trim a bit from your neck - that okay?"
> It doesn't matter, not if you'll get some answers. You nod quickly and lift your muzzle again to give the woman easier access.
> The whirring only lasts a few seconds, then she sprays your skin with the disinfectant. It's decidedly cold, but you don't move. After she wipes it off, she grabs the needle.
> "Ready?"
> You barely feel the prick, but still stay perfectly still while the metal is in your vein. It only takes a few seconds before she pulls it away and presses gauze against the puncture. "Hold this," she orders and you place your hoof over it. "Keep it there for at least ten minutes."
> She holds the vial up, then takes a pen and labels it. "I'll get the results in a couple of days - swing back whenever you can and we'll take a look, okay? It might just be a hormonal thing."
"Okay. Thank you, doctor."
> She smiles and ruffles your mane. "Good girl. Now off with you two and stay out of trouble."
> Sky Light is already rummaging in her bag. "How much do we owe you, doc?"
> Rachelle waves it away. "Free clinic, remember? Hmm, maybe I should take your sample, too, while you're here. It's not often that you-"
> Before you know what's going on Sky Light is already pushing you forward wither her head. "Okay, thank you, doc! We'll get out of your hair now! Bye!"
> You hear the woman chuckling as you two leave and make an educated guess based on Sky Light's expression.
"You're afraid of the doctor, aren't you?"

> "NO!" she says, much too quickly for it to be anything but a lie. "I'm not afraid of the doctor! I'm fine! I just don't want her to spend time on me when there's ponies who really need her, you know?"
"My, how altruistic!"
> She blows you a raspberry and starts walking back towards the van. You laugh as you follow.
> The news that you haven't been operated on - spayed - is very welcome indeed. It makes you very happy to know that - if you want it - you'll have a chance to have a foal someday.
> You hadn't even realized how important that was to you. How important it was for you to have a choice in the matter.
> Funny enough, you'd never really thought about it in the school. The right to breed was a coveted honor, earned only by the best and the brightest. You'd always assumed you'd have that choice someday - you had some of the best grades in your class, after all, *and* you were in the Assistant Pony program - the elite of the elite.
> This thought that you might not get to have children got you really scared.
> Now it was okay. It was a huge relief and there was fresh bounce in your step - well, in your hobble. You were still holding the gauze against your neck.
"Hey, wait up!"
> "Not my fault you let the doc butcher you!" comes the snarky reply.
> You roll your eyes but can't help chuckling.
> All you get back is a raspberry. It seems your joy is infectious.
> As you're making your slow way after Sky Light you begin to hum your happy tune again.
> You're still a bit sad about Lillian - there had been no news yesterday - but you remain hopeful. The girl is smart and resourceful and tough. She'll find her way back.
> You just have to believe that.

> ~~~~

> The days have been routine - at least insofar as that is possible on the street. You went with Sky Light to the truck stop to look for anyone with news about where Maribelle is, but there were no familiar faces.
> She took you mooching twice more to get her money for Viktor finally together, and then she left you in Terry's quiet, uneasy company while she went to deliver the cash. That had been the most nerve-racking of all, not knowing if the pegasus would come back or not.
> You breathed a sigh of relief when she showed up and proudly pulled a post-mare's uniform from her pack. She said she got it from Hoover, but when you asked what she had to do the pegasus went quiet and just stared at you.
> It was probably something to do with the lies you told her about the man with the gun, but she didn't bring it up and your coward self certainly wasn't going to - not after all this time.
> A day later your blood-test results came back and you visited the doctor. This time you went alone. Sky Light didn't say why, but you had a feeling she really dislikes hospitals. The results were puzzling, but not bad.
> Rachelle didn't quite understand it herself, but apparently - from what you could gather from her explanation - your hormones were wrong. Your blood work looked like a small filly's, rather than a grown mare's.
> It would explain why you weren't going into heat, Rachelle said, but she didn't have the faintest idea what could have brought it about. She told you to come see her if anything changes or in six months, whichever came first.

> It's a little troubling and casts more doubt on the Pony School, but you won't get any answers by fretting so you put it aside. Rachelle said there should be no reason you couldn't have foals someday, even if she has to give you artificial hormones. That's good to know and you left it at that.
> Mainly you're focusing on looking for clues about Maribelle - through the truckers, Bluegrass and Taylor - but you're also hunting down every piece of news you can find about Lillian. The fact that you'd given up on her search still stings and you wake up some nights in cold sweat after dreaming of the horrible fate that might have befallen the little girl.
> It's getting easier, though. That part of your life is sliding into the past and holding on to it does you no good.
> You've said a quiet, solitary goodbye to your School roommates one night while Sky Light was fetching alcohol for herself and Terry. She didn't comment on the tears in your eyes.
> All in all, it feels like the streets are making you grow up a lot faster than you normally would. You've started tentatively joking about sex with Sky Light and you're no longer afraid of strangers. Wary yes, afraid no. You've been practicing on the wood whenever you could and you can quite reliably hit the mark with your hind hooves with enough force to smash clean through the thick plank.
> Any human - or pony - who might try something untoward with you had better watch out!
> This particular morning finds you busily brushing your teeth and having a drink while Sky Light is off visiting the toilet. There's no sign of Terry and the pegasus didn't tell you where he went. You hadn't even heard him leave in the night.

> She doesn't seem worried, so you've decided not to fret about it either. The human has his mysterious ways and he's always returned until now.
> There hasn't been any more sign of Hoover's goons, so you guess Sky Light was right when she said she had some pull with him and his gang. Another piece of good news.
> You hear hooves on concrete and turn to look. You smile through the foam, then spit and pull the brush out of your mouth.
"Morning, Sky," you greet.
> "Yeah, you said that already," she replies and stretches, swishing her tail around. "We'll need to get more toilet paper soon. You up for an hour's light mooching?"
> You nod. That particular task is no longer as onerous as the first few times. You're saving the silk nightgown because it's dirty and torn and it gives you that extra bedraggled, miserable look which makes the people pay so well.
> Sky Light usually goes without clothes, but keeps the saddle bags low on her back just in case if anyone might comment upon her cutie marks.
"Taylor said to come by tonight. He said he's having a chat today with someone who knows where that government facility is," you remind her.
> "Bet you a buck it'll be a bust?" Sky Light says. "The coffee will be nice, but you're paying this time."
> You give her a nod. She had found you a small backpack - suitable for a young human child on his first day of school. It's a bit of a hassle to get it on with hooves, but once there it sits quite comfortably. One of the compartments is low enough for you to reach with your muzzle so you keep your money there.
> Thirteen dollars and eighty-four cents, that's how much you currently own. You're keeping track of it.

> Sky Light is nice enough to give you exactly half of what you mooch up. You do most of the work - what with how cute you are - but you don't bring that up. A half share is perfectly fair, for the both of you.
"Deal," you confirm Sky Light's bet, then stick the toothbrush in again.
> The human had sounded so certain. You're sure he'll give you something concrete.
> Beside you, the pegasus turns the handle and catches some water in her muzzle. She gargles it for a moment, then swallows with a very audible liquid sound. She dunks her head in the stream and shakes, almost like a dog.
> It's her version of brushing her teeth and washing and you're careful to keep your comments to yourself.
> After a few moments of that, Sky Light drinks a bit more, then turns the water off.
"Mmmphmh!" you point urgently.
> She obediently turns the water on again and you take a mouthful to rinse out the toothpaste. Then she closes the valve and shakes out her mane once again.
> "Cool. We ready? Let's go to the truck stop and see if there's any news. After that we can hit the library on our way back."
> She stands up, stretches, and starts walking. You fall in step at her side and slightly behind. It feels like a natural place to walk.
"Sleep well?"
> "Eh, a bit chilly after Terry left. I thought about coming up to you, but I didn't wanna wake you," the pegasus explains.
"Where did he go again?" you try.
> The mare just barks a laugh. "Sorry. His business. He said specifically not to tell you."
> You shrug a little to yourself. Maybe you'll find out in time, maybe you won't. It's not as important.
> "Listen, Rosa..." Sky Light suddenly says in a much more serious tone of voice. She stops and twirls around to face you.

> It looks important, especially with the way she can't meet your gaze. She's pawing at a bit of dirt on the ground.
> "Look - you trust me, right?"
> This is starting to scare you and your tail tucks between your hind legs.
> "I was thinking of leaving," Sky Light says. "I was wondering if you'd come with me..."
> You're shocked. The pony seemed perfectly happy where she is. She knows a lot of the business owners around so she can always get her hooves on a free meal. She has her favourite dumpster-diving spots picked out. She's familiar with the city and how everything works.
> Why would she ever want to leave?!
> The mare shrugs. "Dunno. I suppose it's a pegasus thing. Or maybe it's a bum thing. I just get... restless. I've been her ever since- that thing with Hoover. I miss train-hopping, or just flying and seeing where I end up."
> She glances up with you and gives you a wan smile, then prods some more dirt with a hoof. "I kinda wanna see what's out there. Maybe try Europe. What'd you say?"
> It would take you further from everything you know! The School, Lillian, Terry. Even Velvet and her gang!
> Paolo.
> Sky Light can read what you're thinking all too clearly and comes over to nuzzle you. "Hey, I didn't say I'm going *now*, you dimwit!" she chides.
"W-When then?"
> She shrugs and looks up, as if the clouds might give her an answer. "Dunno. Maybe in the next month or so? Summer is the best time for train-hopping."
> The pegasus embraces you. "Hush, I know sweetheart. It's hard the first time. Let's see if we can find your friend Maribelle and whatever happened to the Boone girl. Then there'll be nothing left for you here, right?"
> You bring out our earlier questions.

"What about Terry? Velvet and Bluegrass and Pepper?" you ask, leaving out Butch. "Taylor and his girlfriend - don't you wanna see how that turns out?"
> "We will, we will," Sky Light assures you. "I didn't mean leave forever. Just like- a road trip, you know?"
"To Europe?"
> She sighs. "That was just an idea. Besides, it's possible to travel *back* from Europe, you know?"
> You shake your head in disbelief.
"How? We don't have passports or anything! I'm a fugitive, for God's sake!"
> "Well, not Europe then. Maybe we could swing around to Los Angeles, see if there's a casino that allows ponies. We could be rich!"
> You just stare at the mare, wondering what's gotten into her.
> "Or we could go east, visit the Statue of Liberty. I always wanted to fly up and look that lady in the eye. You," she points a hoof, "would have to take the stairs, of course."
"Why?" you ask again.
> "Well, you don't have wings, for one," she starts and ends up doubled over with laughter. Then she catches your gaze and falls silent.
> The mare shrugs. She obviously doesn't have a non-joke answer. You guess it's just some kind of a wanderlust some people get. You'd read about them - students who dropped out of their classes, took all their money and went to travel around the world.
> It does have some kind of romantic charm to it, but given how you're an escaped pony, there's also a bunch of danger.
> "Look, I'm not saying I'm going for sure. It's just a thought. Please- just think it over, Rosa. That's all I ask."
> You sigh and poke your nose at the mare in an urgent nuzzle.
"Okay, I'll think about it."
> "Besides," Sky Light goes on, "what if we really do find out where Maribelle is being held? You won't be able to say no to a road trip then, will you?"
"No," you admit, ears folding down.

> "Well, all I'm saying is: we do it regardless. Kick back, travel a little, see the world. You only got one life, Rosa. Don't spend it worrying about Terry and Bluegrass and Velvet and who knows who. Spend some of it on yourself, 'kay?"
> You nod.
"Yeah, I g-guess..."
> "'atta girl! Come on, let's go see if Pavo is back with some news."
> Shaking your head in both bemusement and wonder, you follow the mare once again.

I... might have overdone it a bit, but I wanted to get this out so we can start out road trip in the next update. A lot of interesting stuff is planned and we'll get to see more of the "whys" and "hows".

My estimation is that we're entering approximately the last third of the green. As always, here's the pastebin of the story so far: https://pastebin.com/5AxmiVxJ

On a side note, I noticed that I'd written around 860K horse words so far, which seems like a lot. I'm wondering if I should do something for when I hit the big 1M. Dunno, like a steam giveaway or something, if I can find a way to do it safely and anonymously (for the participants) and without having to resort to Discord.
Time for a new chapter? Dont make sudden and radical changes pls.
>group call
Im sure that the girls can schedule a single free night all at the same time in advance. They can just speak to their owners/handlers/whatever, they are well looked after, not some mine workers. Also they dont all of them have to show up every time.
>lack of inclination
As someone working in the porn industry, I can relate. No, not as an actor/actress before you ask.
>girls on 47
Just imagine how hard will be for 47 not to pop a boner if all the girls were together, talking about how will they go down on a single stallion all at the same time. Obviously this talk will happen in a strip club or something.
I presume its a riot against ponies after what happened.

Thanks for the update.
Fucking lost it on the first two lines of this update. Man, Sky is great. You're a fucking gem, AWF
Good update. Look like Rosa is still a filly in her blood. Let just hope that the heat don't hit in the journey, that would make everything more difficult without a van to lockdown Rosa
I've kinda lost track on how long it's been since the accident and how much longer they got.
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>tfw not enough cute little maido pone art
>panic during their first flight
Don't pegasi have the same? Flying, gliding indoors and below fall distance vs flying at higher altitudes and fearing height while climbing.
Also dont pegasi fear flying in a closed space? How did Kalendae and Gerard react?
>Cog needing some high
Go out and have a drink with him?
>Cog outburst, featherbrain
Who was he angry at? Himself or everyone else?
>Kalendae caring for Cog
Does she secretly have a crush on him? Or does she treats him as a child while acting motherly a bit? Cant decide.
>Coming home to whatever
What if instead of freeing him they just tell him if he does this job he will get as much drugs as he desires. SF wont agree.
>Gerard distant
If he does what he has to, hes predictable, dependable then hes good. No need to be friendly.
We need some back story on him. Why does he have a human name, what happened to the eye, etc etc.
>No affection besides a head pat.
>elusive pony
Its a he! How does she know its a he?
Did Kalendae or prettybird told anyone else yet?

Thanks for the update!
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Huhh, I've been writefagging for a while and never thought to do something like that. Way I've seen people go about it is to host a small open ended content creator contest for both draw and writefags, and giveaway through that. That way, it still gives back to the thread by encouraging more horse words and draws and prevents spamming for dubs and trips like how /b/ handles it. Plus you don't have to worry about one autistic person who decided to make fake steam names and enter multiple times because making one good thing is less effort than double entry. I've seen it work, I even won a horsecock in one of them. It's a damn nice horsecock.
This is the alternative timeline where anon check the penetration option by accident?
No, that's the normal timeline. Twiggles is very weak to anondick.
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Maidfillies are good enough?
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Healthy mare
Plush plot to sink your fingers into
>Time for a new chapter?
Very close I think. Next arc might be a little tougher for mare.
>Just imagine how hard will be for 47 not to pop a boner if all the girls were together, talking about how will they go down on a single stallion all at the same time. Obviously this talk will happen in a strip club or something.
Have this more or less worked out.
I just want Cloudburst to be happy
>that look
No thanks, I want to stay pure and not be corrupted by that succubus everynight.
>I want to stay pure
No one told you this purity thing is pure bullshit? Poor child.
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Next time buy a regular maid filly instead a bat maid filly
Nothing worse than a ruined buzz
Motherfucking rosa is going to go into ultimate estrus the second she smells that poblano stallion. I hope awf doesn't get banned lewding fillies like that
Rosa is a teenager
>All cogs rotate as they should.
>Trixie got magic scriptures somehow (to be exact she rashly wrote down at least twenty of them as she woke up today) and gave directions to unicorns, as well as served as translator for pegases.
>That being said, meeting was still in progress. I, Anon, Maria and Trixie sat next to big plasma, as head of PR department started another video.
-Narrator with deep voice: “Nearly thirty years of success, grand projects that united people around Russia… And time has come for breaking new boundaries.”-
-Trixie in construction-worker clothes: With new challenges new possibilities come and I am here to use them. For me, for my company, for both human- and ponykind.-
-Lyra in similar clothes: “While others of my kind pity their fate, I look in future, making place for myself in this world. By making it better for everyone.”
-Maria in her usual dress: “We are happy to employ aliens and will be happy to employ more. For those who provides us them we grant share in our daughter companies, allowing them to become part of tomorrow we build.”
-Narrator: “New time for Russia has come. New hope. OilProm. Dreams come true.”
>While narrator spoke, video shown footage of oil rigs, nature, and smiling workers. As video stopped, Trixie started:
“Well, second one was better.”
>Head of PR smiled.
>“Multiple would be broadcasted. After all, we need variability to not become sore in eye.”
>“Yeah, all minus last one. This one is too… fluffy? Hard Russian. I mean, it stands out too much.”
>I get what she means.
“Other ones actually were more informative and less propaganda-like. Plus, Shot with Trixie wasn’t that lucky, to be honest. Anyhow, what is predicable cost?”
>“Well, if we buy prime-time ad space, plus in Youtube… Somewhat 3 million.”
“Of what?”
>“Dollars, of course.”
Now, this is hefty sum of money. Not for our company, but problem is that fiscal month has not ended, meaning all our funds are already rotating. And with how often owners of our company changed, TV channels require payment upfront.
“Could we then-”
>“It is already cut to shortest.”
>I turned to Anon. He understood what I wanted without me even asking.
>“Okay, you can take it from money I launder. I still don’t get you doing so much effort for PR. It aint gonna rise our production, nor stocks.”
“Well, how else do we reach the masses with message that we have good offer for their ponies?”
>“Just usual ad would work. And you devised whole re-re-re-who knows how much re-rebranding or whatever.”
“If you start to build your image, it is hard to stop, you see.”
>Trixie smirked.
>“Well, if we go on all cylinders, maybe we make one special video for Equestra? To promote us there as well, for opposite. I mean, buying humans.”
>This topic has never risen before and stumbled Maria and head of PR.
>Most of us knew that ponies did something similar with our captives, yet no one never wanted to even think about that. If I remember correctly, head of PR has his brother MIA.
>“Ehm, what?”
>“We already organized daughter company there, so it would be fine to assist it in our efforts as-”
>“You have it same?”
>“Well, not quite. Yes, PoWs are provided in care of civilians, which worked out fine, since due to no one fixing old laws, we still officially allow slavery. I remember there was one incident in court last year which actually made it known.”
>Head of PR frowned at Trixie. She wondered of his feelings.
>“What? We don’t usually trade slaves, so no one cared about these laws. No one even remembered they existed until somepony was almost traded as equipment for training dangerous animal. As I heard of it, at least. Plus, unlike you, we are not hypocritical in devising new juducual state for new sentient species just to not call them “slaves”.”
>“So you are slave then?”
>“Well duh, good morning! These two gentlemen own me! It is just that they trust me they allow me to act freely.”
>I couldn’t watch it any longer.
“Valera, do you think Trixie is treated alright?”
>He scratched his head.
>“Well, she owns major stock of Oilprom, so…”
“Than if your brother is alive, he is probably okay as well. Don’t worry. We will order to buy him out if found.”
>He obviously wasn’t shocked, neither sad. If I would call emotions he showed with his face, it would be “refusal to understand how stupid joke become reality”.
>“Okay, we will make another ad for Equestria. You do it, I… just have no idea what to put in it. As well as how we will broadcast it there if aliens don’t have TV.”
>“We still have cinema.”
>“Oh, so we now need to find tape recorde- just fuck it, go to my secretary, I am done.”
>As recently sudden days off to get drunk to endure new bizarre concept needed to be taken seriously became normal in OilProm, no one stopped him nor fined. After all, it is only normal to feel frustration at workplace owned by slave.
>“Wait, so we have to be recorded again?”
>Trixie answered.
>“Yes, Maria, and you will have to speak our language.”
>As that, Maria followed Valera’s example.
>Having foreign currency in huge amount in itself is not a bad thing. Having currency of country your country is still at war with is.
>Yet, Trixie found a way to get use of it. We were going to Embassy to buy artifacts.
>Since areal survaillence is good in Center, for us to succeed in this deal we should transport Equestrian cash underground, as well as artifacts, since borderguards are instructed to take all of them if found for clearing up their nature. Then it would be up to officials to decide whether to return them or nationalize, and we have no time to deal with so much trouble.
>Sadly, Marinovsky refused to sell stolen subway train. Gladly, I have Techie.
>He waited me and Trixie near dead station. Here, next to hole in wall, stood a truck.
>“All as ordered. One debt I returned, one left, Anonymous.”
“Thanks, Techie.”
>“Boss, are you seriously going to… come clean?”
“Yes, but not for now.”
>We went inside cargo. Here, waited a car. What was special about it is that railroad wheels were installed on it, while overall it looked cheap. After all, it was needed to used just one day, so techie obviously decided to not waste money. It sat on inside railway, for it to able to start off itself from cargo.
>We sat inside a car and started the engine. There were also map and transmitter, while backseats were removed for all Equestrian gold to fit in. I hope Techie also moved engine to the back, or else car will not move.
>So far so good, now, what time is it? Wait, Trixie looks at me.
>“No fluff no feather, aye?”
>I smile back to her. Did Casya taught her this phraze?
“To hell with it.”
>Whistling came to me to be followed up by explosions. Truck drove through breech over railroad. As that, I push the pedal. As we drive out of cargo, we have meter of falling to direct our wheels over railroad. Thankfully, Trixie is unicorn with training, and she levitates us in right placement. As that, we drive inside the subway, watching fireworks painting skies, as well as road ad panels being hacked and broadcasting porn for even more distraction. So, we drive.
>“So, what is our plan to be precise?”
>As I turn on internal lights, I look at Trixie.
“Well, we just drive. I would I ask you to cast invisibility, but you once said it tires out a lot, and there are cameras all over subway.”
>“So we will be sure spotted?”
“Well, when they came up with how to react on us we already will be at Center, so no problem. Though we will need magic while above the ground.”
>As we passed some working station, to amazement of commoers waiting for train, we just laughed, as she continued.
>“But we could not get back same way. What is… you contacted that changeling, didn’t you?”
“Sometimes it worries me how much you get my way of thinking.”
>As we drove, I imagined amount of YouTube videos our ride is going to produce. I guess if we get caught we could try to soften the blow by pretending we did it for memes or some shit.
>As such, we somewhat nervously got to Center, specifically at former Lenin’s library station. This is the place where we should meet.
>After that deal with vomitface done, he ordered some more stuff, yet they used our money this time. Overall it looked like he infiltrates our underground opposition organizations from all political spectrum, coordinating them for something huge. I also wonder who he works for or he plays his own game.
>So, we went out, Trixie levitated boxes of gold on the floor, everything was fine.
>Except that vomitface should have been already there.
>"What are we waiting for?"
"Our contact, obviously."
>"Look, do I get it correctly that since Embassy won't allow itself to openly trade artifacts they would be given to us by him as well."
>That little one learned how Russia works.
"So you want to go make a deal with Embassy first?"
>"Yeah. It is you who contact him, so you could stay here."
>As that, i helped to take goods on surface. while we got up, still on station, she grabbed with magic cloud all crates and went out. As such, she dissapeared as soon as she went out.
>... Is she going to return?
>No, she is honest alien, so much ties us together. Such memmories as cutting her, making her hostage of worst criminal of Moscow...
>I am an idiot, aren't I?
>How could i trust someone Vasya bought in first place?
>No, relax, everything is fine.
>As i went out of the station, to check out the surroundings, i suddenly overheard some voices and stopped.
>"I tell you - intendant is in. He gets booze for capitan anyway, he will just grab some extra for us and him."
>Two soldiers in full gerar came out of the corner. As they planned their evening they didn't notice me, so i silently rushed back at station.
>I ran down to the car, hoping that vomitface finally got there. As I ran, I heard these two soldiers walking down as well, discussing some other nonsence.
>Why do they come here? And what i have to do?
>But, as i stood on station, my thoughts were interupted. More so, they were sent to garbage by what i witnessed.
>Light came out of the tunnel, horn, and few seconds later rail-car was obliterated by train.
That is it for now. I need to visit a hospital, afterwards i will post more. Pastebin of chapter 2: https://pastebin.com/puvZ4HQs
Summary of first chapter: https://pastebin.com/fHVkRZaK
Whole first chapter: https://pastebin.com/wgaVqQ0u
This is the point where I think Terry and Sky is working together to sell Rosa. Lets see if my guess is right.
I'm still searching for Sky's motivation.

God damn, this was a long update!
>Lewding Rosa, she talking more openly about this stuff.
No, please? I give up.
>Rosa, heat, vet, hormone levels
This got important fast. And were closed fast.
Is the school some kind of experimental facility to suppress heat, cutie marks, magic whatever disguised as a school?
Was Maribelle a failed attempt at suppressing cutie marks?
They could have secretly drugging them since all the food were made by the school staff.
Sky sure knows a lot of people.
>Cute Rosa
Someone needs to draw this.
>free vet
Good. And these are a thing actually.
>Sky plans to leave
Finally. But why leaving Terry? Aren't they a thing?
>80$ a day
Wow thats a lot.
Rosa calmed down. Its been what? 15 days since she escaped? And like 4-5 days since Lillian missing?
Where is she? She pops up pretty irregularly, and so far we dont know what does she wants.
Im sure they are busy searching for Lillian, but no one is searching for Rosa? I mean, Rosa got pretty confident that no one is looking for her.

>last third
What? Still feels like this is in the middle of the setup phase. There is tons of unanswered stuff open, I hope you can answer them all.
>Lot of horse words
And I already read them all. Good horse words.
>steam giveaway
Shouldn't it be reverse? We give you stuff.

Thanks for the update!
>What? Still feels like this is in the middle of the setup phase. There is tons of unanswered stuff open, I hope you can answer them all.

Maybe this is episodic and we will have a time skip to move to another pony or Rosa will just find the happiness in her journey
Good point about Sky's motivation. I'll have to explain that a bit more.

> lewding Rosa
This level of lewding (her being able to talk about it) is about the worst I had in mind when I set out. There's implied lewding of others, though.

> vet, heat
This will be an important story point good guess, but I didn't want to abuse the cheap "Rosa has been spayed by cruel organixation" angle, so I decided to clear it up fast.

>Sky knows everyone
Yes. Yes she does, the likable scamp that she is!

> leaving Terry
Details an reasons to follow eventually.

> Lillian thing
I agree that she got over it fast, but I wanted to focus on the next part. Prolly poor planning, I'll see if I can work in some light 'ptsd' about that to offset the sudden change.

> last third
You're right, we might be closer to half, really, but I intend to action-pack the next parts and have a lot of things come into play together. Hopefully I don't suck at it - that's kind of what I wanted to try with this green.

P.S.: forgive phone spelling errors
If you want to give a conclusion just make the human actually finding Lillian. Her plot is getting old and kinda tedious, Rosa already get over this and humans actually doing a good job for once would be a good prize for Rosa
Enjoying the story and trust you. Keep up the good work!
My guess is that Lillian is dead and sky got pregnant by human seed
Everything is just a dream. Rosa actually kill Lillian with her cutiemark rabies
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> SB: "Of course! It's gonna be alright! We're just need to do as he say. Right, girls?"
> AB: "Right!"
> SB: "Absolutely! Uh, Scootaloo?
> SC: "H-huh? Wha?"
"Aw-w-w, Sweetie..."
> AB: "Have ya been listenin', Scoots?"
> SC: "I... oh, whoa!" - she shouted and jumped back - "G-get your hands off me, you creep! Bleh!"
> Apparently, she really likes to blew a raspberry at you too much. Without getting punished. Someone has to teach her a lesson
> And you were quick enough to pinch and hold on her tongue while she was blowing her horsie spit out
> And she didn't like it very much
> "Hfeeey! Pf-f-tb! Gross!" - she proceeds and scoots away
"Yeah. That's what you get, orange brat. He-heh, sorry. Just too tempting."
> She responded by just rolling her eyes, not without a hint of a tiny smile that she tries to hide
> And you look back at the two giggling fillies
"Ok gals, who wants to be next?"
> SB: "Oh, um, me!" - she said and sticks her tongue out
> And what the silly wasn't expecting is an old rusty chaincutter, quickly showed between her neck and collar with a loud
> Snap!
> SB: "Ah!" - she yelped and jumped in place
> But you were quick enough to catch her mid-air and hug to your torso with a free arm
> SB: "Oof!"
"Gotcha! There you go."
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> SB: "I, uh... huh?"
"That wasn't very scary, was it?" - you said, placing the instrument on the ground and tickling belly with a free hand
> SB: "Oh! Hah, I'm free-he-hee!"
"I guess you are"
> SB: "Get a room you two..."
> AB: "It's like removing a teeth! Was it?"
> SB: "I don't kno-ho-how! Hey, Anon, can you massage my neck now? Like you did to Scoots?"
> SC: "Ugh..."
"Sure. But why, does it hurt? Did it stung when I did that?"
> SB: "Um... n-no..."
"Funny. I though that voice that voice crack was from the zap. Does it itches, then?
> SB: "No, it... I mean, yeah! Yes! Can you scratch it? It itches sooo bad right now!"
"Oh, I bet it is."
> SC: "~ooh ai bet eet ees~"
> You put your both on her neck and start gently scratching slightly below her ears. While she bends her neck backwards, practically poking your chest with her horn
"Funny. Who taught you to purr, little one?"
> SC: "Jee, I wonder..."
> AB: Hehe! Hey, are you blushing, Scoots?"
> SC: "Wha...! What? No! Of course not! Do you have a sunstroke, Applebloom? It's just hot outside!"
> AB: "Yeah, *giggle*, it sure is."

There. Took me one and a half years and 128 threads to write a few sentences. Shoot me in the head.
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>Alone In The Woods: now.
Seeing Eye Fluttershy: when?!

Having dead green suddenly come to life makes me pine for all those other great abandoned stories. Thanks for posting though, those three cuties have a place in my heart too.
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>"consarnit, why do these have to be so complicated to put on"
>appul grumblings
>"and what the hay does that human expect me to do with a 'uniform' like this? there aint even any pockets"
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Would you allow this behavior?
Would you allow your slave to call you "good boy"?
Appul is a good girl and has needs
>that image
That's a paddling.
Hey I remember you, wow that was one heck of a break between updates.
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Some ponies love belly rubs.
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>tfw no good girl gleaming shield helping you get in shape
>"Come on Anon, if you can keep up with me for ten laps we can have another 'exercise' session tonight. And I'll be wearing stripey socks."
Wait til the scars heal on her rump first. Appul is for love
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Oh boy, the anal queen is here to take all the icecream from the poor fillies
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Last night I dreamt that I was the slave pony, but there were no cuddles. No bellyrubs. Only tests. What does this mean?
Contact Luna
A nightmare that bad needs professional help.
Any slave pony stories where the ponies are larger than humans?
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> "You're wasting your time on him, you know."
> The sandwich had almost made it to your lips, and you're half tempted to just ignore the comment and keep on eating.
> Hot, delivered food was a soon-vanishing luxury, after all.
> But Logic Gate was one of the few ponies who'd been on your side through practically all of this, so you felt... mildly obliged to at least hear her out.
> Setting the sandwich down, you look up and over at her and extend a wing in a gesture to join you.
"What makes you say that?"
> "He doesn't want to change."
> She half-assents, settling on her haunches but close by.
> "You can heal a lot of damage, Spitfire. But the pony you're healing has to want to be healed too. He doesn't. He's checked out. He's decided he's not going to try; he's not a part of the herd anymore."
> Her ears fall, tail flicking.
> "Like I said before. It's not that he's addicted to the high itself. He's addicted to the feeling of not caring. If you can't make him care, you can't make him want to stop."
"Maybe it's the old guard-mare in me, 'Gate. But I can't just... throw him away either."
> "I know you want to save ponies, Spitfire. Protect them. But you can't do it for everypony."
> She looks down at the ground, lighting her horn to nudge pebbles and fragments of concrete around.
> "And I... I don't know..."
"I'm not going to snap at you for being honest with me, Logic Gate."
> "...alright."
> She takes a deep breath.
> "This might sound cold, Spitfire, but do an analysis. Maybe you get through to him, maybe you save one pony, but what we're carrying on this mission... it's worth so much more than one pony."
"You really think it's that important?"
> "Absolutely. It's critical. It's the way forward."
> Half of you is more interested in that comment than Cog Whirl...
> But the wondering look she gets in her eyes when she speaks about it...
"Did he tell you that the second he 'saved' you?"
> "Of course not!"
> Logic Gate laughs, shaking her head.

"I had to prove myself. And I don't mean bow and scrape or whatever you're thinking. I just had to show I wasn't going to be insufferable."
> Insufferable.
> Like Cog was.
"And after that...?"
> "After that?"
> She sighs, her ears finally rising back up as her eyes go unfocused.
> "I won't lie to you, Spitfire. Thomas was good to me. Thomas gave me things I wouldn't have anywhere else. I'd always dreamed of being part of serious magical research, and - well, he didn't exactly make that dream come true. But, close."
"Feels like Logic Gate's gone beyond dream. He doesn't even want to dream anymore, because it hurts too much. Can that be woken back up?"
> With a flick of her tail, Logic Gate's head falls back down and she gives a low huff.
> "I don't know, Spitfire. I'm not an expert in feelings or anything. Nopony's saying he can't be saved. Maybe something can wake him back up. If he saw - saw something that showed him dreams can be real again."
> Igniting her horn again, she picks up a few pebbles - making them idly swirl around each other.
> "All I'm saying is... if we get held up because of him, if we don't go in the end because of him, that'll end up costing ponies a lot more than if we manage to dig him out. And he's just sitting there, laughing behind his drugged-out eyes at you."
> There's anger in her tone then.
> Real, hard anger.
"I'll... keep that in mind."
> Again she gives a little snort, tossing away the pebbles with a little clatter.
> "I must sound like a right cunt to you, telling you to just give up on him."
"Don't think I've never had to just... let a pony go. It happens sometimes."
> Never in conditions like this, though.
> Where a failure would mean condemnation...
> "Yeah. I'd like to castrate a man, though."
"What, like, fried balls?"
> Logic Gate laughs.

> "Yeah, but - I'm pissed, Spitfire. I'm really pissed. I thought this would be our big break, and then... well, I can't blame Terry or Cloud Patch what happened. But if this little freeloading bag of Tirek-shit drags us down for his 'fun'..."
> At least, you think, she knows she's angry.
> Logic Gate's words hang with you for the rest of the day, though, and you have to admit:
> She's not entirely wrong.
> Seeing the thoughts churning in your head, Logic goes on:
> "Tell me, Spitfire. What did it feel like when Anonymous first - first gave you real freedom to fly again? When he bought you and said, 'hey, you're a real pony again'?"
"It... didn't come at first. What I had to do wasn't so much proving as..."
> As struggling with yourself.
> She doesn't wait for the answer to be given, though, and just nods.
> "I guess you had it a bit harder than me. He ever tell you that you just... had to leave someone behind?"
"Yeah. We got into a big roaring fight about it. Beat each other up pretty good. I think that's when we both realized we were just going to burn out, before we got what we wanted."
> Though he never had apologized for using the shock collar on you like that.
"Made it up to me later, though. When we were able to pull some foals out of danger, he made damn sure it happened."
> "Huh... Spitfire, I'm not saying I'm happy being a slave. But if I were free? I'd probably stay right here. Not many ponies can say that, I know. I want to see this done. We have a victory in our grasp again!"
> That is a point.
> What had you once said to yourself - slaves don't have hopes, they have opportunities?
> Even if just considering the other ponies here, completing the job would get Kalendae - a pony who had already suffered enough - free, and yourself back doing whatever you wanted with Anonymous.
> Who knew what Gerard would do; he seemed to be genuinely happy with his role.

> In that, you decide, the first thing you could do was talk it over with the one pony who would be most affected by this:
> Kalendae rises in the evening, throwing off the blindfold she tucked over her eyes to keep out the day's most fearsome rays.
> (Note to self, Spitifre - she'll need goggles or something before you all go to Equestria.)
> You wait until after she takes her breakfast before bringing up the issue, and to her credit Kalendae listens quietly while you explain what Logic Gate had said.
"...so given that you're the one who'd really be hurt by this the most, I really have to ask - why are you so certain you have to protect him? What's convinced you?"
> Humming softly, Kalendae tilts her head.
> "It is what defines us as ponies, My Captain. We must stand together, as one herd. The moment we consider simply throwing a life aside, we have lost our Heart - that which united us once. We have become like the humans, heartless and cold."
"Isn't it a bit of a big 'slippery slope' there? From accepting he can't be helped, to being completely heartless?”
> Thankfully, Kalendae seems to understand you don’t mean to argue with her.
> "Mere jealousy brought our Princess a thousand years alone. It is easy to let one's heart stray further and further, but harder to find it again."
> Yeah, you can't argue with that...
> Tilting her head, Kalendae regards you with one slitted eye.
> "My Captain, have you ever heard of how my kin came to be? Where the 'bat-ponies' come from?"
"I... no. There was a certain vibe of 'do not ask about it' in the Guard."
> "It would not have mattered if you had, I think. You would not have gotten many different tales."
> Laughing, Kalendae sits on her haunches, tucks her tail around her hooves, and extends one webbed wing.
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> "Some speak of a dark curse, from which the Night Mother spared us - her magic forever changing our flesh and blood. Others say that it was her curse, a twisting by the madness which then claimed our Princess eventually. Some speak of foul things done with dragons, letting their blood run in our veins; some say we were the first Equestrians, before the unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi were driven west by their hatred."
> She shrugs, tucking the wing back in.
> "What we know is this: We have never been many, and we have never been truly welcome. Perhaps it is legend that keeps us apart; perhaps it is simply our preferred hours."
> She pauses, nudging her empty plate with a wing.
> "I have... seen ponies among my kin who thought the way Cog Whirl does. Thought we could remain forever apart. Why try to spread beyond. We should always remain no more than specters in the night. Legends."
"What changed?"
> "The Night Mother returned to us. And despite so many long years away, she had not forgotten us. She drew us forth again, made us her hooves, her servants. She was determined to see us not remain alone."
> Extending a wing forward, Kalendae toys with the metal ring pierced through its leading edge.
> "The suffering I have experienced, I think, is dust compared to what she bore. My Captain, how can I abandon Cog when he needs us too? Should we not follow the Princess' lead? Is this not our duty as guards?"
> She does, you suppose, have a point there.
"I don't disagree with you, Kalendae. But I have a responsibility to you too."
> "I understand, My Captain. But I beg you. Please give me time to appeal to him. Is there not a chance? At least until you find another!"
"Of course, Kalendae. And I'll be right there by your side too."
> She starts to stand, but before she does something else comes to your mind.

"Ah - Kalendae - if I can ask you one other thing? You... mentioned Luna a lot. Do you - have you heard anything about her?"
> Instantly you know your error.
> Kalendae seems to slump in to herself, a hollowness in her eyes.
> Fuck.
> Good job being a leader, Spitfire!
> "Our Mistress vanished during the troubled times. With the sickness. We heard nothing of Her Highness since."
"...I'm sorry. I - I thought you might know more. Since you were her House Guard and all..."
> "You knew this? Few ponies did, even among the Guards of Equestria."
"Being a Wonderbolt meant getting trotted out for fancy events a lot. I ran into enough Night Guard to learn a bit of your history."
> You give a wry smile.
"Don't worry, I'm fairly sure I had a chance to make a fool of myself early on too."
> Kalendae does not laugh, though, but turns back to watch the moon further - her eyes dropped to narrow slits.
> "If you know that we were the Wardens of Her House, then you must understand how it troubled us when She deserted this house."
"I... can imagine yes. But she must have had a reason-"
> "She took twelve of her closest servants and vanished to us. All we can be certain of is that Our Princess has not perished."
"You're sure?"
> Now the slightest creep of a smile actually touches Kalendae's lips.
> "Through the hardest times, through suffering and slavery, not one of us was troubled by ill dreams. She wards our sleep yet, My Captain. This was not even given to us in her banishment, so we know she must live yet."
> Live - and maybe even be free!
> Another thought comes to you then as well:
"If she's still warding your dreams, then Princess Luna must not be angry at you. She's still looking out for you."
> "Aye, this I dared to think on."
> That little smile grows, though tinged with bitterness.
> "I think, maybe, that this is why I cannot bear to abandon Cog Whirl. What, I think, would My Lady think of me if I were to do that?"

"Heh. I used to think the same thing about the other Wonderbolts. What would they think of me now..."
> Those thoughts had become a lot harder after you'd come across Fire Streak.
> "Aye. But until Her Highness pardons us of our failings, her lips to our ears, we shall not absolve ourselves."

This section was much extended based on feedback from earlier; hopefully it now offers a more fleshed-out and full view of the team's views about Cog - and a view into the minds of Logic Gate and Kalendae as well!
Does anyone remember when lurker was good?
>does anyone remember 32 minutes ago?
Anon, you may need to see a doctor.
>"Feels like Logic Gate's gone beyond dream.
That should be Cog Wheel, not Logic Gate, right?

> Igniting her horn again, she picks up a few pebbles - making them idly swirl around each other.
Telekinetic fidgeting. This just feels so realistic: of course that would be a thing.

>But if this little freeloading bag of Tirek-shit drags us down for his 'fun'..."
Heh: if only she knew it was her own Thomas (right?) who cut down her teammates in favor of Cog, for inscrutable reasons of his own.

>Please give me time to appeal to him. Is there not a chance? At least until you find another!"
She doesn’t need to beg, because there is no other. If there were any alternative they wouldn’t already be scraping the bottom of the barrel here! If somepony with Cog Wheels abilities and without his liabilities crawls out of the woodwork at the last minute, Cogs fate will be sealed regardless of what agonizing philosophical choices either slave might WANT to make. It’s all a false dilemma.

>Lead on Luna: total bust.
I knew you didn’t want us to know yet for dramatic reasons, and this neatly tied up that loose end.

>took twelve of her closest apostles and vanished
Getting a messianic vibe here, and liking it!

>section was much extended
Everything it does it does quite well. We got through a bunch of character development and exposition very naturally, without ever once feeling slow or draggy. Good writing, and if my comments helped it was an honor.
Not a bad explanation of why Kalendae is the way she is too. What luna supposedly does for them is pretty sweet, like she's trying to apologize for abandoning them. Though I imagine it just gets harder and harder on her as their numbers dwindle.
>gilfpost detected
I’m not sure, of course. Without a trip there is no identity here on 4chin. The tone kinda sounds like him though...
>gets harder and harder on her as their numbers dwindle
And harder yet when the batpony breeding facility becomes operational, but they aren’t HER little batponies anymore.

Breed the bat.
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>Shoot me in the head.
My little batpony can't be this cute
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Reminder that thunderlane was always loyal to CYOA anon. Specially in the bed
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>Breed the bat.
Do that to blinders
I think that's what's about to happen in the story.
And I fucking hate it. Mare was a good girl, Cloudburst is a good girl, and that world is so shitty they don't get to be happy.
Cloudy seems pretty happy lately. And she is the goodest of good girls.
You guys do realize that blinders has always been shit right? Please tell me this is some elaborate joke. He always does this, what little grace his story has he kills it. He has this inate skill at ruining his own green in this non-self aware but totally aware fashion. His entire green is a gigantic troll because you twits fall for it every time.
>His entire green is a gigantic troll because you twits fall for it every time.
Like a deep state conspiracy?
No just look at every major plot point in his greens so far. Anything good either dies or gets corrupted. It's like he's personally taking autistic revenge on his own characters like he hates them. These are levels of autism I have only heard of in rumors but here we are
>Anything good either dies or gets corrupted.
So you hate slice of life?
it's gilf. he hates the thread so he tries to bait arguments whenever he can just to make the thread a shittier place
and hes too stupid to figure out how to filter that story too
Slice of life is one thing, blinders is just endless edge with a few fetishes tossed in so he doesn't get boo'd by the entire general
>endless edge with a few fetishes tossed in
But, you’re saying it like that’s somehow a BAD thing! Blinders when?
It's never good when the only redeeming quality to your green is fetishes. At this point just call the green what it is and quit holding it on some pedestal
Slave. Pony. General.
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>gilf sees the thread being peaceful
>gilf wants to start an argument, make the thread a worse place
>brings up blinders for no reason at all
>14 posts so far
Good job, helping him cause shit in a thread where none existed.
is that a new b8pone I spy? don't mind if I do
What do you expect? He's a prison island brit. From my experience there's 3 types there. The moron, the asshole, and the top lad, but sometimes the asshole mixes with the other two and it's worse or better. Gilf is the moron.
>hfw the new unicorn starts acting up
bluefast is a good girl
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Buy two pones so they can help each other get ready for "cuddles"
This explanation of their motivation was much needed.
>Logic Gate
Thinks objectively, but a bit tainted by hatred. I cannot think less of her because of this.
Tries to justify herself, her existence. Once Luna left, she suddenly had no (important) job to do. Now she has one. Its not just saving another pony, but saving "a" pony in general and not dooming him.
Still has to make the decision and it will maybe hurt more than one. Or just keep Cog as a backup.
I have 0 idea what will you do with her. Since you brought up her multiple times she must have play a role in the future plot.
>harder after Fire Streak
Why? He took an opportunity and made the most of it.
Harder after she realized that the other Wonderbolts were able to make their own decisions without her?
>magic + pebble
Fidgeting isnt supposed to be a thing where you have to think 0 about it? Im sure that using magic for this must require some level of concentration.
It feels more like a "I dont want to talk about this, I want to think about other things" rather than a "Im uncomfortable" vibe.
I dont recall that there were any other magic use in any F&S so far, and to this extent (-> not a hard thing to do if Gate uses it to "kick some stones").

Thanks for the update.
>Be mare
>There's a riot going on?
>You followed 47 out the common room where Roseluck, 42 and the colt were waiting
>47 is bringing you up to date
>"It's more of a panic on the streets than a riot," he says then adds, "There's an active shooter situation two blocks from us"
"Holy shit!"
>"Please stay away from the windows," he councils
>You hadn't even realized you were walking toward the window so you could look out at the street
>Rose laughs nerveously
>"I did the same thing when Forty Two told me," she says
>"These things rarely last long," 47 says, "but given our proximity to the situation best to avoid line of sight to the street"
>"You doing media?," 42 asks 47
>"To find out what I already know is true?," 47 asks. "Shooter is a white male in his early 20's armed with a semi-automatic weapon"
>"He's no fan of blacks or Jews, is particularly concerned about hispanics replacing him," 42 adds
>"But sees even more of theat from free ponies," 47 continues, "Especially in light of the recent increases in unicorn birthrates"
>47 sits in front of his laptop
>"Hashtag Ponytown already trending on Twitter," he says. "Already the misinformation has started"
>"Are they posting that he's an abolitionist?," 42 asks
>"You know it. Just saw an account get deleted for it," 47 replies. "Definitely fatalities. Pony fatalities. There's video"
>47 furiously taps away on his keyboard
>"There's also an alleged manifesto on infinity," he says flatly
>"I ain't reading that shit," 42 answers
>"You already know what it says," 47 counters
"What does it say?"
>47 sighs
>"The usual. You know the profile. Every time something like this happens it's the same. White nationalists," he replies
>"If it's that obvious why isn't it reported that way on the news?," Rose asks
>"That's a whole other ball of wax," 42 replies
?"Yeah," 47 begins, then pauses. "Journalists don't want to be seen as fear mongering or inadvertently encouraging these people"
>"Then there's the political angle," 42 continues. "Politicians who benifit from the support of such people can't acknowledge they actually exist"
>47 laughs and says, "Even though their silence is tacit approval of their actions. And some of what they say actually encourages them"
"You believe this?"
>"More importantly THEY believe this," he replies. "I just have to be aware of it for security's sake"
"Who is they?"
>"White nationalists," he replies. "Alot more of them out there than you'd think, and they hate free ponies more than any other minority"
"What have we done to them?"
>You exist and breed in their country," he replies, "thus changing the demographics, culture and undermining their hegemony"
"Their what?"
>He ignores the question staring intently at his screen
>"Shooter may be in custody," he says. "Told you these things move quickly"
>"It'll be a few minutes before they announce it, though," 42 answers. "But if he's in custody and not dead we were right about him"
>47 laughs again
"What's so funny?"
>"I just read someone saying this is a DS false flag," he answers
"A what?"
>"Conspiracy theory stuff," the stallion replies calmly, "The kind of guy who thinks shooting up a crowded place is a good idea eats that stuff up"
>"It's better that you don't know what some of these people believe," 42 adds, "It makes it a little harder to sleep at night"
>"And the nutjobs over at infinity are already calling him ourguy," 47 says
>"Well if the shoe fits," 42 says sadly
>"Mommy, I'm scared," the black colt whines
>"It looks like the scary part is over," 42 says confidently
>"These things don't last long," 47 repeats
>Suddenly you hear an explosion like a tunderclap
>It's powerful enough to shake your building a little
>Thankfully far enough away that your windows aren't blown out
>But you're pretty sure somewhere nearby windows are blown out, and probably worse
"What was that?!"
>42 rushes to the window for a quick peek outside then touches the communication device in his ear
>"There's been an explosion," he says, "perimiter secure, assets safe"
>"Can't say with certianty, Ma'am," 47 replies, "but a truck bomb would be a good guess"
>"This guy pulls off an mass shooting and a McVeigh?," 42 asks, almost seeming impressed
>"We don't know that. What did HQ say?" 47 asks, furiously scrolling through various feeds on his laptop
>"Shelter in place," he replies
>"We're a few minutes away from any reliable information," 47 says
>"You really should have your com device in," 42 chides
>"In this situation I can monitor things better without it," he replies
>"You're still violating protocol," 42 counters
>"We just had a mass shooting and an explosion two blocks from us," he replies, "and the assets are safe. Don't tell me how to do my job"
>"Sometimes I worry you're too into this stuff," 42 says quietly
>"You gotta know your enemy," 47 answers without taking his eyes from the screen
"I didn't realize we had actual enemies"
>"With these types the newest arrivals are at the top of the hit list," 47 replies
>"We're talking the kind of people who seriously want to send ponies back through the portal," 42 adds
>Rose gasps in horror
>"But there's nothing left there," she says in disbelief
>"That would suit them fine," 47 says with an edge of anger in his voice, "You see how much contempt the have for our lives"
"That's just a few angry, disturbed people, isn't it?"
>"If this wasn't happening here right now what would your reaction be?," he asks. "Just another horrible story on the news, right?"
>"Because this is happening all the time now," 42 adds
>They're right
>You hear about mass shootings all the time and feel bad for those killed and traumatized by them
>But they happen so often you they are just another awful thing out of many on the news
>You've never even been a fan of following the news because it's depressing
>Though you've been making an effort to keep up recently so you don't make a fool out of yourself on TV
>But you just realized something that never hit you before
"So we're targets, aren't we?"
>47 nods toward 42 and says, "That's for us to worry about"
>You didn't realize that was going to be an aspect of being free
>You've known for a long time there were some people who simply didn't like ponies
>But when you were private property you were in your place and posed no threat to them
>Being a free pony changes that, it makes you a threat and those people are willing to paint a target on you because of it
"But it's true, isn't it?"
>The stallion nods
>He looks really sexy right now
>Why are you horny?
>What's wrong with you?
>A lot, probably
>A lot more than suddenly being overcome with the desire to fuck your bodyguard
>When he gives the all clear you're going to have to start figuring out how dating works as a free pony
>Otherwise you are going to fuck your bodyguard
>Is it wrong to be so horny when you know ponies were killed just two blocks from you?
>Is that what made you horny?
>You're glad the others are here
>Because if it had just been you and 47 in this situation you're pretty sure he wouldn't be lost in his laptop screen right now
>He'd be lost inside of you
>Stop it, stop it!
>You can't fuck your bodyguard!
>You realize Roseluck is kind of staring at you
>"You OK?," she asks
"Yeah. You?"
>"I have to be, don't I?," she replies with a quick nod in her son's direction
>42 picks up on the cue and says, "You were very brave today," to him
>You have to stifle a giggle at the word "brave"
>"You kept your cool while something scary happened," 42 continues, "That's what you're supposed to do in a crisis. Good job"
>The colt looks a little sheepish and scared, but you can see some pride on his face
>42 is a good agent
>He's kinda sexy, too
>Shit, stop thinking like that!
>Dating - you have to start dating
>The thought is terrifying
>You don't know a thing about it
>The guard said there was a app for it
>He said it knows you better than you know yourself
>You owe him a call anyway, and checking in to be sure he and Tari are OK after what just happened seems like the right thing to do
>You can ask him what that app is then
"Are we still on lockdown?"
>"Unfortunately, Ma'am," 42 replies
"I'll be in my room making a call"
>"I ought to call Chrissy," Rose says, "I hope she was nowhere near this"
>"Ten confirmed dead, and they haven't started going through the rubble of the buildings," 47 says matter of factly
>Then he adds, "Looks like a war zone. Don't be surprised if it takes a few attempts for your calls to go through"
>You should also call the girls to let them know you're OK
>Last thing you want is anypony worrying about you
>Though it seems like there's even more to worry about than you'd realized
Look like the shooter is just a coincidence(or just a bait persuaded y the real terrorists)and the real enemy right now is the responsible of the bomb. If this chapter is about to change that would mean that something big is about to happen in any moment . Good update
>"Feels like Logic Gate's gone beyond dream. He doesn't even want to dream anymore, because it hurts too much. Can that be woken back up?"
Did you mean the other one? Cog?
>Bring up white nationalists in a negative light
>on 4chan
Time to find out what demographics are in SPG!
Everyone on 4chan are white nationalists. Even the tacos and niggers.
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this was the van
that evil man 4Chan is behind it all
>>Is it wrong to be so horny when you know ponies were killed just two blocks from you?

Not really, is only survival instintic, make new life for the loss
>"To find out what I already know is true?,"
I loled. Why even bother with the news, it’s always the same, right?

>recent increases in unicorn birthrates
Wait, wut? I thought they were down, with the SPCA neuter and spay campaign. Does KtMA really have anything to worry about? And how about the shooter? There will be a few new jobs only a unicorn can do, but are they having a real effect on the labor market?

>You hadn't even realized you were walking toward the window so you could look out at the street
I would totally silhouette myself in the window like a moron in that situation. It’s the natural thing to do. 47 is already earning his pay! (except, ya know...)

>that cynical, detached, professional view of politics from both agents
Very well done, bravo, but it still leaves me cold. I want to see that polished facade start to crack, and see what the scared little ponies underneath really feel. Have their owners and their training really leached all the passion out of them?!

>he wouldn't be lost in his laptop screen right now
>He'd be lost inside of you

>You have to stifle a giggle at the word "brave"
Mare is stronger than I am; I failed to stifle it.

Good update, Blinders. Thanks!

This. Even if we’re liberal black chicks, we have to roleplay as white nationalists ironically. MLpol 4 lyfe!
The entire Blinders Off arc of the story has been /pol/bait from the start. No reason not to go all the way with it. If free ponies were actually here they would be targets.
What a good idea and a change of air for Rosa and history, traveling opens possibilities of new narrative elements and unforeseen elements, perhaps before Lilliam appears or Rosa has another prophetic dream that says nothing, let's see what happens.

Good work AWF

Make no mistake, terrorists, lunatics and fanatics have always existed regardless of time, place, ethnicity or motive, they are simply disposable pawns in that sense they are something even more low a slave or an ant, they are just cannon fodder for people who need to have the masses fighting each other to not challenge them, unfortunately there are always victims in their madness who pay the price of their stupidity.

That's why I like to read your story, you put current issues in a new perspective, for the ponies we must look like fools who hate everyone because we hate ourselves, maybe we should be the ones who should be sent to the other side of the portal and leave Earth to the ponies

I said it before and I repeat: 47 put a foal in Mare as soon as possible!

Good last 2 updates FBHPBO
>Does KtMA really have anything to worry about?
This may be a direct result of KtMA's efforts. While the "day of action" march was recent, the group had been active long before in Ponytown. Influencing the free population of Ponytown, which is majority unicorns, would have a positive impact on unicorn birth rates overall. It may have already been going up, but now that they have national attention it may go up further still.
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I want to enslave horse Fluttershy and use her as a dummy for collecting stallion's semen
>use her as a dummy
>but she a real, possibly fertile, pony instead
How is this different from straight up sex again? Is it some sort of meta fetish I’m not even perverted enough to comprehend?
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>no green about a pone pretending to be an animal so they can get away with stuff like this
Love that's fucking sexy eyes
Didn't know if I should namefag or not, but uh...
Here's a slave something a friend of mine drew. A different version of it with an outfit I designed will be made eventually.
His OC an enslaveable qtqtqt.
I forgot the fucking image what the fuck oh my God.
Here it is.
>She looks at her left foreleg, and at her barrel's sides.
>“Well, who knows? With a soap this greasy, my skin just might end rejuvenated… Even though I am not too sure about its smell, or its residues.”
“Still better than before, though.”
>“Oh, it is definitively an improvement; don't get me wrong, I will always choose to be clean rather than dirty. Even if your soap, I mean, human soaps have never been gentle with it.”
>Right, she was washed with industrial soap wasn't she?
“Yeah… don't worry, Sand Soap isn't industrial soap.”
>“Whatever do you mean by “Industrial soap”?”
“Machine soap… hum, ah, right, that's the word. Degreasers, cause machines need grease.”
>“Are you… saying that I was washed with soap intended to remove machine grease? B-B-But why would they even want to do such a thing? It doesn't make any sense!”
>Feeling awkward, you lower your gaze before pinching your lips.
“More 'fficient, costs less?”
>It hurts more?
>“More efficient, Anon, it hurt my skin more than it cleaned it. How can you call that efficient?”
“It has t'be. They like 'fficiency. Costs less. Less food. Less water. Cold nights… Control. More control.”
>Control, power. That's what they want, 'cause they are weak.
“They're weak.”
>They weaken others more so they feel stronger but they're weak.
“They want control. Power.”
>But you are not weak, you are strong.
>The forge made you strong.
>You are big and tall now.
“You're your worst 'nemy. They weaken you, starve, thirst, no sleep, no rest, alone, can't fight. You're dirty; they blame you, not your fault. Power, control, efficient.”
>They can't control you, no one controls you.
>Not them, not Carl.
>Not Crazy Mouse.
>No one controls you anymore.
>No one.
>“P-please, stop it! You're scaring me!”
>Frowning, you look at her.
>There's a terrified Pony in front of you.
>Her barrel is twisted to the right, for protection: her raised left leg rests against it but it is clearly between you and her neck.
>You are not a munster but that is what she sees in your gritted teeth, between the crinkles on your nose.
>In the rage inside your eye.
“DAMNIT!” You shout as you throw the soap at the wall with enough force to dent it, shattering the projectiles on the same occasion.
>Screaming in fear, she cowers as much as she can in her sitting position.
>Someone else is afraid of you when they shouldn't!
>You're not angry at her, she didn't anger you, so why?!
>Pissed off, you grab her horn and jerk it up before pressing your palms against her cheeks, forcing her to look at you.
>Tears, confusion and fear plague her face.
“Why are you screaming! WHY are you afraid!”
>“B-Because you're, you're angry, and, and, and it scares me!”
“Angry, Ah'm angry hey? Ah'm angry and 'ts scares you hey? Ah'm angry but d'you know why?”
>She shakes her head as much as she can under your pressure.
“TAKE A FUCKING GUESS!” you scream at the top of your lungs, making her close her eyes, and break into tears
>“I don't know,” she whispers between her sobs.
“Don't know, hey? don't know, don't know so why are you afraid!”
>She opens her eyes and tries to say something, but you understand what's happening, through her staring.
>She does not know what else to say that won't result in her being hurt more.
>And yet she knows that saying nothing will just worsen her situation.
>Out of options, she does what she has learned to be the best courses of action.
>Close your eyes and cry.
>Do not, under any circumstances, whatsoever, protect yourself, or worse, defend yourself.
>It just makes them angrier.
>They do not want you to be afraid.
>They want to hurt you.
>When you are afraid, you try to avoid being hurt.
>Yes, you remember all too well.
>She hasn't tried to push you away; her left leg is pressed down against her side.
*Why can’t you be like all the others! Why can’t you be despicable like them so I can hate you!?*
>The tension in your face diminishes, your expression softens.
*But that is not what you did! You have never ever played your part! This is not how it is supposed to work, Anon!*
>Slowly, you release the pressure on her face.
*But even then, you have been kind, and generous, and very understanding. Much more than I could have ever hoped for.*
*It was me projecting my fear and insecurities of… of the human world, I should say, on you, who is the exact opposite.*
>What are you doing.
*You have every right to be a cynical, grumpy and irascible human, filled to the brim with bitterness and resentment, but you have chosen not to, and I am very grateful for that.*
* She is calm, and true to herself, despite having a hu-MAN behind her, you simpleton.
Oh, so, you mean.
It means that you’re the only one who’s ever hurt her, Anon, not me!*
>No, no!
* My role is to protect you, Anon,*
“NO!” you holler; letting go of her, creating a distance between the two of you.
* if you survive, so do I.
However, the quality of your life correlates with my own. And molesting your pet will make you lose your shit.*
>You don't want to think.
>You don't want to.
* Playing a stupid game of tug of war to be in control of the reins is pointless and counterproductive.
That said, I have no qualm making a hell out of our nightmare of a life, and deposing you, once you can’t cope with it anymore, if, that ensures my safety better.
So go ahead, insult me with your jumped-to conclusions, however, if they paint me in a pejorative way, I shall correct them, with draconic measures, if necessary.*
“Stop it!”
>You clench your hands into fists and pummel the sides of your skull with your intermediate phalanges.
*I have projected all these insecurities and fear of the human world on you, who, because of those scars and how you are being treated by other humans, should be even meaner, scarier, eviler and downright more dangerous than every other human, but you aren't.*
>You cross your legs and trap your elbows between your belly and your legs.
*Who are you?
What drives you?*
“Stop iiiiiiiit!”
>No one controls you anymore.
“W'sn't me!”
>Not even you.
“W'sn't me, didn't do it, didn't do it!”
*What hide the flags you didn’t notice?*
>You did not choose to not be mean.
*Crazy Mouse never, ever, loses his shit. Anonymous loses his shit, Crazy Mouse doesn’t.
Good thing too, else you would have put that man in the trash can yourself.
For a split second, you want to rip her fucking face off with your teeth, but Crazy Mouse intervenes in the nick of time.*
>Crazy Mouse did.
>It's not your fault.
>It's… it's your head that's at fault.
>You didn't want to think about those things.
>And, and then she said you were scary!
>But you're not!
>You're not a munster.
>You're not a munster.
>It's not safe, you don't feel safe.
>“I am… playing with fire, aren't I?”
>It's dangerous; someone's going to hurt you.
>Your chest hurts.
>Your skin is cold while sweat droplets flow down your back.
>Shaking, your hands are shaking, so you clench, you clench them real hard.
>They shake a bit less, but your palms hurt.
>There is no control, no one controls you.
>It's dangerous, dangerous.
>If you don't get control, you'll die.
>You'll die.
>The lack of control is in your arms, in your hands, no control.
>The farther it is from your body, the more its felt.
>It's slipping out of your hands, like a rope.
>It's dancing on your fingertips, just out of reach,
>But you want it.
>You want the control.
>You need it.
>You have to have it.
>Or you will die.
>You'll die.
>“Well, it is better than nothing, I guess.”
>Flexing your arms help.
>They're big and strong.
>Doing things help.
>So you rock.
>Back and forth, you rock, and flex your muscles.
>Pummeling the head hurts.
>But it helps.
>But it hurts.
>But it helps.
>'cause you're scared, 'cause you have no control you're scared.
>“Just… a little… more…!”
>Crazy Mouse isn't here.
>You're scared.
>Not your fault.
>Didn't do it.
>It's in your head.
>A wave of warmth washes over you, warming your skin while, at the same time, cools down your core as it passes through you.
>It is soothing.
>A flash of light reddens the darkness in front of your closed right eye, and a sound reminiscing of sci-fi blaster blasts through your ears.
>Startled, you jerk your torso back and protect your head with your arms.
>And wait.
>“Gah, C-Curses! Nghhhh!”
>Since nothing came, you slowly lower your arms, and open your eye.
>Rarity has her left hoof on her forehead, just beneath her horn.
>Which is also smoking, a bit.
>That's weird…
“Puny okay?”
>“Yes, yes, I am fine… just a little bit of rebound, nothing to worry about… how about you, are you feeling better?”
>For some weird reason you do feel better.
>Confused, you look at your hands.
>For no real reason.
>It doesn't make sense.
>Not one bit.
>She clears her throat.
>“S-so, now that you've helped me clean myself, it is my turn to help you, I believe; could you be a dear and turn around?”
>You… comply.
>“Now, where is the s- the bar, yes… Oh, let's just use this one instead.”
>Your right palm hurts.
>When you inspect it, you find fragments of soap settled deeply in your skin.
>That's not good.
>Slowly, you pull them out.
>By one.
>They haven't pierced the skin, but they are painful to extract nonetheless.
>Worse, it's soap, and you don't have girly nails.
>More than anything else, you are just pinching your palm.
>It took a while, but you managed to pull them all out.
>One of the shards managed to pierce the skin, a bit.
>Just enough for it to bleed.
>If you gather them all in your left hand, you can recreate a tiny bar and clean up with it.
>Speaking of which, she said she'd help you, but you haven't felt her touching your back ever since you turned around.
>Intrigued, you look behind you, and teary eyes look at you.
>You frown, out of confusion.
*You are disfigured, maimed, and bear the scars of more beating, and, and fire and, and human horrible devices than I have ever seen.
And despite everything, you stand still, like a mountain*
>Ah, right, your back.
>Your back…
>Crazy Mouse said it looked like Harlequin's head, but melted.
“'t won't bite, heh.”
>She doesn't laugh.
>Rather, she looks even more… aghast.
>Especially with her hoof in front of her mouth like that.
>Carl said that you're… hum, what was it, dur a cuire, or something.
>It's, like, french for tough-cookie, but can also mean hard to cook.
>Maybe that'll make her chuckle?
“Dhur a queer, aren't I?”
>She frowns and jerks her head back.
*It's ha joke.
Please, Anon, don't make that kind of joke, at least not in front of ladies.*
>But then, her expression softens into a smile, and a trembling lower lip.
>“I, I have to admit, that, that it certainly is the case…”
>Her face is accepting, out of defeat.
>You don't like that flag.
>“Hu-Human humour certainly is, hum, unique, and, hum, takes a while to get used to?”
>Why is that a question?
>But hey, she's smiling, so, so that's good.
>Feeling sore from your position, you turn your head to look behind the other shoulder.
>Her focus has shifted onto your back once more.
>“May I… touch it?”
“Sure, s'possed to help too.”
>You start to wash your chest, and a shy, cold hoof is pressed gently on your back.
>And a bump.
>Seems like she put the soap, like, in her sole, hoof, whatever.
>“Is it sensitive, am I being too rough?”
“Naan, scars are less sensitive than skin.”
>She takes a deep breath, before rubbing laterally the spot between the shoulders.
>The feeling of something rubbing against the protruding burnt scars isn't unpleasant itself.
>But dry soap against moist skin is.
>Nothing your discomfort, she grabs on the handle and douses your back.
>Meanwhile, you start the tedious but efficient process of scratching your skin with your nails, gathering thick crusts of grime underneath them, before using your other nails to empty the first ones.
>Now that you are cleaned and rinsed, you turn around and grab the handle to clean the dirty bathub's wall.
>Afterward, you clog the drain, put the showerhead on its support, turn the taps and let warm water fill the bath.
>Will you have enough warm water though?
>Probably not.
>Then… what do you do?
>Could always use the oven to heat some water.
>Would need a large container though.
>Hmm… you got a stockpot.
>Yeah, that'll work.
>Driven by the idea, you get out of the bath and head toward the kitchen.
>“Where are you going?”
“Gettin' the pot.”
>The floor is cold, and your skin itches.
>A lot.
>But you can't scratch, if you do, it'll bleed.
>Now in the kitchen, you crouch down, find the stockpot, turn the oven on while the water fills the stockpot, and wait.
>Having nothing to do until then, you sit on a chair, and yawn.
>There's nothing to do.
>But to wait.
*The psys tell you to stop living in the past, but you're not.
Everyone else but you is.
That's why they hate you.
Because they're still stuck in the past.
By all means, you should be seeking revenge against the entire world for what it has done to you, but you aren't.*
>No, no it's not as simple as that.
>In fact.
>She got it all wrong.
>It's not you that isn't seeking vengeance when you should.
>It's them who seek vengeance when they shouldn't.
>It's all social justice.
>Hum… no, that's not the term.
>Justice… self-justice?
>Wait, better put a timer for the water… where's the egg.
>Ah, there.
>Wait, it'll take quite a while for it to warm up, but the bath is being filled.
>Wouldn't it be better to turn the tap off now and wait for the tank to fill up again?
>Frowning, you go back in the bathroom, turn the tap off, and go back to the kitchen.
>The pot is filled, the burner is orange… but now you'll have to lift the pot that's full of water.
“One… two… threee-nnnngh!”
>There, it's on the stove.
>Now, hum… the egg, yes.
>Hmm, about 25 mins should do it.
>You crank up the egg and sit down on a chair.
>Where were you…
>Ah, self-administered justice, right…
>You yawn and rub your face with your palm.
>Hmm, it's stupid.
>Like, if you beat someone, and that person beats you back, it's self-administered justice, but not self-defence.
>But if someone saw you beating someone, and then they beat you too, then it's not legal either.
*Their lack of self-control cannot be excused by the fact my client has committed a crime before, and by consequent, hurt their feelings or values. My client is not responsible for the unwarranted, but more importantly, unprovoked assault on his person. Not only has he been judged once for the crimes he had committed, but he had also been found not guilty on more than one occasion, ergo, and pardon my word choices, but, “beating him up because we (the accused) can't trust justice” is not only a tentative of self-administered justice and double jeopardy but also acting against the Supreme Court's judgements. Furthermore, and pardon my words once more, “ganging up” against my client half an hour after he has used his right to self-defence simply can NOT be considered as self-defence in order to prevent an assault… especially if the aforementioned assault lies in the future, therefore, no immediate threat. Last but not least, my client has been chased and beaten with baseball bats for several minutes in the supermarket, as shown by the camera footage, resulting in several grievous injuries, the most notable being the loss of an eye and loss of a substantial portion of his jaw… With all due respect, your honour, I fail to see what wrong my client has possibly committed in this situation, and why the accused appealed the previous decision…*
>The egg rings and wakes you up in a jolt.
>Suddenly moving your arms and head like that… hurts.
>Oh, right, the pot…
>With great effort, you manage to get up, take the pot, and walk toward the bathroom.
>At least, it's not as heavy as her.
>With a sigh, you turn the taps back on and sit on the toilet.
>“Weren't you supposed to get… pot?”
“Ah did…?” you tell her as you point the stockpot.
>She doesn't say anything, preferring to blink twice instead.
>Then, she smiles and lowers her head.
>“Yes, pot, as in, cooking pot, and not…”
“Something wrong?”
>“No, no, quite the contrary, in fact.”
>She giggles, “Filling up the bath by bringing hot water, simple, charming, rustic…”
>She clears her throat, “So, how do you feel, now that your skin is free from all this… dirt?”
>You look at your hands.
>They're cold, and dry.
“Skin is dry.”
>“Well, yes, I suppose your skin would feel dry; anything else?”
“Like what?”
>“What about, how nice it is to smell good, or the satisfaction and peace of mind of knowing that others will now find your company to be much more pleasing?”
“Bad smell keeps people at bay, it's safer.”
>“Right… right.”
>There aren't many reasons why you would want to attract others.
>Like Crazy Mouse said: those who matter don't care about it and those who care don't matter to begin with.
>Plus, water isn't cheap.
>Well, cold water is.
>Then you got soap and shampoo to buy, and, and then you have to clean the bath or the shower.
*I came to view your world as one of hatred, and dreadful, where Ponies do not belong, simply because of the sheer… evilness that plagues its inhabitant. And then I met you.
Yes, you;for heaven's sake most Ponies I know aren't even as close a gentlecolt as you are; though most Ponies I do know are fashion critiques and other designers, but the point of the matter is that you, Anonymous, have suffered more to the hands of humans that most enslaved Ponies have.
You, who, because of those scars and how you are being treated by other humans, should be even meaner, scarier, eviler and downright more dangerous than every other human, but you aren't.
By all means, you should be seeking revenge against the entire world for what it has done to you, but you aren't.
Seeking revenge against the world?
What are you, a misunderstood cartoon villain?*
>She is cartoony.
>Complex girl, but with simple problems.
*Ts’what Ah said, you don’t even know who Ah am.*
>She might have a point.
>If she doesn't understand, it's because she doesn't know.
>Should you talk about it?
>As you wonder if you should talk about it, you look at the bath's water level.
>Yeah, you still got time.
>But, if she knows, will she be angry at you?
>Will she hate you, like everyone else who knows?
>Hmm, maybe it would be safer to know more yourself first.
>Like, hum, poking around the bush or something, to see how she will react and all.
“Hey, Puny?”
>“Yes, Anon?”
>Feeling awkward, you can't help but scratch your nape.
“If, hum… some Puny does s'mething bad, would you, Punies, hate them?”
>“Euh, w-well, it would always depend on what you mean by bad, but I suppose it is something rather unpleasant. It would, however, have to be something drastically horrifying for us Ponies to actually hate them. We tend to forgive those who have wronged us and later on, educate them about friendship… It is, and by far, less cheesy than it sounds.”
“But… why? If someone did som'thing bad to you, then you… must be wary of them, or else they'll do it again.”
>“Maybe for humans, I cannot claim to know how you react to “bad things” after all, but we Ponies, especially me and friends, know that no one is truly evil by nature, with very few exceptions in-between, of course. But- hum, we've already talked a lot today. Maybe we should… just lie down and relax, in a warm bath?”
>Hmm, yeah.
>Even though you don't like how she cut her sentence like that.
>Speaking of which, you put your hand in the flowing water.
>Still warm.
>That's good.
>“So, I was wondering, Anon…”
>Intrigued by her tone, you look at her.
>She seems rather uncomfortable.
>“The water inside the pot over there is… boiling hot, I presume?”
>“What, what is its purpose, then, if you are already filling the bath?”
>Ah, right, you didn't tell her.
“Don't have a lot of hot water,” you point the tap “soon it'll be cold.”
>“You… are going to pour it after I get out of the bath, aren't you?”
>When you think about it.
>“Please, tell me that it was what you were going to do…”
“Waell, Ah, Ah wuz going t'pour it slowly.”
>“Anonymous, you can't be serious!”
>Well, maybe.
“Not now, 'bviously.”
>Despite not really wanting to, you look at her.
>She's quite scared… and confused.
>“I… J-just, no!”
>Feeling drained, you sigh and look down.
>She wanted a bath, you try to please her.
>And you're wrong.
>Not knowing what to do, you join your hand and rest your forearms on your laps.
>There's nothing but the overwhelming feeling of failure in your stomach.
>Not failing, that's, that's something else.
>It's just…
>Being a failure.
>A failure.
>If you are a failure, then why do you expect to succeed when doing stuff?
>You don't know.
>And you try to learn.
>With another sigh, you take another look at the water level.
>Half full.
>You approach your hand toward the flowing water, but you can already feel its coldness.
>Just to be sure, you dip your hand into the water, and indeed, it is, somewhat, colder than tepid.
>If, if you also get in the water, then it won't take too long for it to be over-filled.
“Then… hum, wanta cold bath?”
>Such a waste of time.
>It won't feel good, plus, you've used the stove for nothing.
>Wait a min.
>Did you turned the stove off?
>Unsure, you get up and walk to the kitchen.
>The burner is still very orange.
>Apparently, not.
>Mother and Crazy Mouse would give you an earful.
>Yeah… they would.
>But at least, you thought about it by yourself.
>That's, that's nice.
>You walk back in the bathroom.
>There is a tangible awkwardness in the room.
>That's bad, but.
>You're getting a bath, and so does she.
>Sighing, you close the tap and get in the tub.
>The water is just a bit warmer than your skin, but in 10 min, you'll be cold.
>At least, you get to stretch your legs, for once.
>And it feels goooood.
>Carl was right.
>You are stiff.
>If only stretching didn't hurt.
>Then, maybe you'd do it more often.
>Comfortably sitting, leaning against the tub, you rest your head and close your eyes.
>It doesn't take too long for her to rest her head against your belly though.
>Heh, cute.
>You can't pet her though.
>Because… hands.
>You took a bath.
>Emptied the pot.
>Gathered the scattered bits of soap.
>Used towels to dry yourselves, many towels.
>Then you both went to bed.
>Well, not both.
>Curiously, she prefers to sleep while standing.
>Horses really do sleep like that.
>You couldn't really rest or focus.
*What hide the flags you didn’t notice?
So, Anon, if you are not like them, and you are not a monster, then why do YOU pretend that you are a bad person so that you do not feel guilty with what you are inflicting yourself with!*
>You kept thinking about stuff.
*Why are you telling me to talk less, and listen more, when you do not listen to yourself? Why do you tell me to stop being hypocrite, when you do not even know who you are yourself!*
>What hide the flags you didn’t notice?
>Why do you fight, why do you keep fighting?
>What drives you?
*On your doorstep, there is a smoking purple mane white Unicorn looking at you.
And you fucking hate her. Crazy Mouse is probably going to hate her too.
My role is to protect you, Anon.*
>Rarity, Rarity drives you now, you think.
>You gotta go to the vet, and all.
>But, Crazy Mouse drove you too, for a long while.
>And, and then there was this dream, where there were two spiders. one of them chews the other…
>“Could you pull the blankets up just a little bit more? I simply cannot sleep if my shoulders are uncovered.”
>You get out of the bed and readjust the blanket on her barrel.
>“Thank you, darling.”
“Mhm,” you answer, as you go back beneath the bed's blanket.
>You should not be happy.
>Bad things always happen to you when you are happy.
>You will go to jail; she will go live with Carl.
>If he wants her.
>And, and you don't want for her to go away.
>Because, because she makes you happy.
>Not just less sad, as smithing does.
>Actually, happy.
>But you shouldn't be happy.
>And there are simply too many answerless questions which you DO need to answer…
>Rolling back on your back, you stare at the dark ceiling.
>There is so much going on in your life right now.
>Crazy Mouse is… was in your head all this time.
>But not anymore.
>There is a girl, and a pet, and a horse in your bedroom.
>All at the same time.
>You nearly lost your blade. That is something you never want to experience ever again.
>The smiting ingots broke. You don't know how, just why.
>Tomorrow you will have to bring the check to the bank.
>And maybe do some groceries for once.
>And there are dead people on your lawn.
>You never did unload your shotgun…
>And her wounds, you gotta bring her to the vet.
>With the check money, maybe?
>Too many things…
>Too much.
>You sigh, for you cannot focus on what is important because you do not know what is important anymore.
>Before, it was simple.
>Before, you only had to smith to get money and smite when you are sad.
>Or angry.
>Or lonely.
>Sometimes, Carl would come by and buy some blades from you, or chat with you for a bit.
>Otherwise, you would just go and sit in front of the television, and be useless, so, harmless.
>Restless, your turn your pillow around, hoping that the cooler side will help you sleep.
>“Darling, is everything alright?”
“Hmm,” is the only thing that comes to your mind.
>“May I, again, ask a small favour from you?”
>“I am unable to put any pressure on my right leg, my shoulder is simply too painful, however, it is impossible to sleep while maintaining a leg the air. Therefore, would you be a dear, and see if there is something just the right size for my leg to rest on?”
“Hmm, got tape.”
>It is too dark to see her response, but the tone of her voice implied loudly enough.
>“Well, I guess, it isn't such of a bad idea, as a last resort I mean.”
>With a grunt, and pained arms and torso, you get out of the bed, again.
“Gonna turn lights on.”
>You walk toward the switch and flip it.
>When you turn around to face her and estimate the height required, she opens her eyes, contracting her huge iris.
>The sheer size of their movement gives you pause.
>“Is there something wrong?”
>Clearing your throat, you take a look at her leg.
>A chair and some sofa cushions would do the job.
>“I sincerely apologise for the trouble.”
“Meh, it okay. Don't have to think.”
>“You don't have to think?”
>You head out the bedroom to fetch a sofa cushion and a chair, both of which you put under her, with the backrest on her right side.
>“Oh, that is just perfect, thank you, Anon, you are a lifesaver.”
“Heh, no, I'm not.”
>Smiling, you go back in bed to stare at the ceiling some more.
>Your head is gonna hurt if you keep thinking like that.
>And there are too many things going on in your head right now.
>Everything is too complex.
>It all arrives too fast.
>And… You are tired.
>Physically, mentally.
>Of feeling like you are running, but the finishing line seems farther and farther the more you run.
>Of all those silly questions, and things you didn't notice.
>And everything.
>Of being yourself, even.
*Well, it doesn't matter. Just eat your ice-cream and got to bed. Recover from the long day.*
>Yeah, Carl is right.
>It has been a pretty long day.

Boy, we've come a long way since the first line, haven't we?
Like always, insight or comments are always appreciated.
We literally have that.

Always an interesting story! I had difficulty knowing who was speaking, there are several different voices here, and your use of greentext and asterisks is not enough to keep them all straight. More “Rarity said softly” or “Crazy Mouse said in my mind” would go a long way.
Well, in short, *text* means Anon is remembering something that someone said, even himself.
when there is a space before the " it means that crazy mouse is talking or thinking, and not Anon.
I could limit the asterisk to 1 section by person.
for example, if anon remembers 2 sentences from 2 different person, there will be 2 blocks of *text*
This syntax scheme is effective, but you need to continually reinforce it. Work a bit harder at explicitly mentioning who’s saying what every once in a while, to help new readers and those who forget. You’re pretty good at this psychological stuff, but all these different voices are confusing even for Anon let alone us!
You guys remember when docintrouble was good?
Oh wait
he was never good
He is still here? I filter him asap with his 2deep4u not slave related fic.
>no slaves
Both are fair comments, but if you push through it there’s a lot of interesting stuff going on. It’s well written, and he’s polite, so no need for the torches and pitchforks quite yet.
>Both are fair comments
>no slaves
>in the fucking slave general
Then why is even here? This is another Mirta where the writer just take the first general that he look to post his fic.
Mirta was also "well written" but just posting here because he can is fucking bullshit.
Fuck you fang you fucking drunk piece of shit. Take my fucking money and promise an update and jus fucking die like that? Fuck you
>Take my fucking money
[citation needed]
>This is another Mirta.
I actually thought it WAS Marta. Don’t know it for a fact, but the style is kinda similar.

>Marta when?
That looks gay
>Enslaving a pony is illegal
>But a pony turning her/himself into a slave don't
Your organs are not worth it for humans but if you're cute enough the owner casino can always find a way to make you pay.
I am not Mirta.
I would “pay” her “debt”. Pony is for slave.
I must have missed your last update
Thank god that I live in a country with 1000x times less gun homicide per capita than the US.
This is just sad.
42 and 47 sure has their own opinion on stuff.
>on infinity
We dont talk about that place here.
Did Mare just found her new fetish?
>safe place
Now VP will demand that the house should have a safe room.

Thanks for the update.
Honestly fuck fang, he baited all of us and then died without any communication. At least swf had goddamn fucking courtesy to tell us before fucking off. Fucking pathetic that I invested so much in a writer just for them to drink themselves to death
>Did Mare just found her new fetish?
Nope, just instinct of preservation. She need to breed to leave her genes in this world but this logic kinda work better with the males than the females
If you gave anyone money you should start talking with your bank. He died in a car crash in march.
Now stop shitposting about the dead. It's disrespectful.
He died and his ghost haunts the discord acting like nothing's changed. Sad.
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Say people, why would we want to enslave these creatures?
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Vega when????
Because they're good for cuddles, sex, and general labor. I'll take the gimp pegasus in the middle.
Glad to see you back
This unironically

We'll never get the ending we want.

I speak of Twilight being disciplined by Sweetie, of course!
>Be moderately well-off Anon
>Small inheritance turned into successful business
>Nice lodge-style home on a big ol' ranch near a small mountain range
>Private, but lonely, life
>Go to small convention in Laughlin
>Wander the Casinos, but you prefer the Stock Market
>Not a huge difference, really
>In a small shop at the back of a mall, you catch a glimpse behind a curtain.
>A much bigger shop is back there.
>Mention it to cashier, who carefully sizes you up.
>"Yeah, go ahead."
>Inside are ponies in cages.
>Of the many, two catch your eye
>A blue...guy? Is pleading with a white...girl.
>You make a show of looking around, most of the ponies avoiding your gaze, but a few look up at you with big, sad eyes.
>One begs you to take him out of there.
>This is getting depressing.
>Eventually you're close enough to eavesdrop on the unicorns.
>"Please honey, I'm sorry! I know I'll never apologize enough, but I'll get us out of this! I promise! It's going to be okay, just stay strong!"
>The mare just looks tired.
>Like most of the ponies in here, she's a little dirty, but not filthy.
>And you can see a couple of red welts on her back legs.
>Her flanks, maybe?
>When the pony sees you looking at her, she lifts her eyes and sets her jaw.
>Getting to her hooves, she walks to the edge of her cage, as you feel compelled to walk to her.

>"Hey! HEY! Velvet, what are you-NO! Nononono!"
>"Please sir." she says firmly, loud enough to be heard over her companion. "I want to leave, won't you take me with you?"
"I don't-"
>"Twilight Velvet! This joke has gone far enough! Stop it!"
>"You got us into this, now I am getting myself out." she states matter of factly. "Please sir, I can cook, clean and generally take care of your home. Just take me away from this place!"
>That last line was almost a sob.
>You're not heartless, but you don't really need a pony...
>Giving her a small nod, you walk back out front.
>The cashier gives you a knowing look.
>"Which one?"
"The unicorn mare."
>"Heh. She's older, but she's game. Whiny shit of a husband though."
"They aren't a...pair, are they?"
>"Pretty sure they've got kids somewhere." the cashier says, sliding a piece of paper across the desk.
>A bill for $50k.
"That's a lot of money, what do I get for that?"
>"A good maid that doesn't have to be paid."
"Maids don't cost that much."
>"I'll give you her and her husband for seventy."
"I'm good." you say, filling in the pertinent details on the form. "Let me warn my bank about this."
>The cashier smiles broadly.
>"I'll bring her out and get you her title and forms."
>A short phone call later, you're listening to hysterical shouting coming from behind the curtain.
>But despite the pony's protestations, he just became forcibly divorced.
>His mare is now your mare.
>You almost feel bad about it...but she doesn't seem upset when she is lead out into the shop on a leash.

>"Already vaccinated, filed your registration just now -that'll take a day or two to process- and now the check...?"
"Here." you say, laying it flat on the counter, holding out an open hand.
>"Looks legit."
"I get the impression not everyone can go back there." you say as he drops the end of the leash in your hand.
>"They can't."
"Who can."
>"You, obviously."
"Just me?"
>"Of course not. But anyone who looks like they have the money and isn't going to waste my time can."
"How did you know...?"
>"You get a feel for people. Now go enjoy your mare."

And that is how Night Light lost both his savings and his wife in Las Vegas.
Lemme guess... the new gryphon-owned casino right?
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Beach chapter never?
At least Velvet will be more happy with Anon than his husband right now. Now the fucker will need to work like her wife to pay the debt or pray for someone gay enough to buy him.
If the writer is following this headcanon >>34131891 then it's not worth it. You can't use him to breed powerful unicorns like twilight or shiny. If not he is a top tier pony with really good genes but you would actually want to buy both
>That should be Cog, not Logic
...herp derp. Yep, that's dead on. My mistake.

>Telekinetic fidgeting. This just feels so realistic: of course that would be a thing.
Yeah, I liked it as a little touch that shows how 'normal' magic is to a unicorn's life.

>Getting a messianic vibe here, and liking it!
That was vaguely the intention - in line with how I described the many conflicting rumors of Luna in the original F&S. Is she alive? Dead? A traitor? Waiting in the shadows for the right moment? Hard to say - but Kalendae, at least, believes her faith is still in the right place.

Glad the explanation of Kalendae's motivations worked out. She's a tricky character, as I want to write her as both damaged, but still determined - having been victim to terrible mistreatment, but still clinging to faith in her Princess.

>Thinks objectively, but a bit tainted by hatred. I cannot think less of her because of this.
Hatred, or pride? The angle I'm going for her is that she - like Spitfire - found someone who treats her as a semi-equal... but Logic Gate isn't perfect for it.

No comment!

>Fidgeting, not thinking vs. not wanting to talk about it
A little bit of both, I guess? I've seen people do it for both reasons, as well as "I can't focus on this alone, so let me just mess around with something else."
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Shit. I'd love to soon, but I've been really distracted with pic related and some really annoying work stuff. I've got the next update semi fleshed out in my head but not even started on paper. Not dead yet though!
Thanks for the whisper from beyond the grave, and for the cute kitty pic!
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Seems like I lost my trip too. Hopefully I can find that in a bit.

Sweet Pigs have joined the Alberta oil patch as roughnecks. It’s hard work, long hours away from home, and irregular schedule, but the money is there. Here they share a moment on the pipe tongs after washgunning the rig all day: it’s never been so clean!

Would you be willing to hire your slave ponies out, or would they work exclusively in your own household? What sort of pay, accommodation, and security would you be looking for from a renter? Would you give them some of the money as an incentive, almost like employees, or would that be against the point of slavery?

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If I were going for three fillies I'd choose better.
Ah, cute little furry potatoes!

I'd be willing to rent my ponies out part-time, but only locally (in fact, there's a strong chance I'd more or less have to - I simply don't have the money to have a pony sitting around at home just cleaning things up all the time. They need to either be saving me money or bringing in money). But that'd be restricted to local businesses, as I would want my pony back at the end of the day. As for 'pay'? You need to give the carrot as well as the stick (perhaps literally, in pony terms): They just bring in enough to feed them, they earn nothing. They bring in more, then I start setting aside some of that for luxuries for them.
How do you justify owning another sapient being?
Like wouldnt it be psychologically taxxing to keep denying they are your superior?
>filly brothel trio
No thanks, I don't have enough icecream for these beast
Spoken like a true abolitionist. My mare legitimately falls for the "got your nose" thing you do to play with infants.
Her coat isn't even the same fucking color as my thumb, but she still thinks I'm holding her nose. Ponies CAN SEE THEIR NOSE IN THEIR FIELD OF VISION and she still thinks I have it.
It's a miracle they survived long enough for us to make contact.
I really like the composition of this picture, piganon. I feel like they're getting more aesthetic each post.
Golden Hour: you can’t take a bad pic then if you try to. Thanks!
The gubmint DOES own your sapient ass, and it doesn’t seem to tie itself in any philosophical knots doing so. Don’t think so? Try not paying your taxes.
I dont pay taxes
Loads of people have issues being owned
Reminder to never leave your son with your slave maremom.
I COST taxes. You know; what with the prison and such. That government leash feels all the shorter.
Bad maremom, she always need to use the love hole for young master first time
That's supposed to be an adult offbrand-Anon. He went from weird ponified things to strangely large ponies.
I don't understand this man.
Mate, his first time was probably when he was wondering why his pee pee was hard at age 8. Those mom mares are savage when in heat.
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>Some ponies are owned by families rather than individuals
>due to high demand there is a rigorous screening process to make sure all ponies end up in homes where they will be treated well
>pony is loved and doted on by the whole family
>all he/she is asked for in return is to do some light housework and guard the place when nobody's home
>pony is included in all holidays, even gets presents for his/her birthday
>while ponies are usually offered their own bed, they more often than not become nightly snuggle buddies for the young children in the family that adore them
>all in all it's a pretty good life
>Having been with the family long enough to watch the kids grow from a young age, the pony takes it into their hooves to help the oldest kid going into puberty considering how awkward and frustrating a time it is.
>With words, emotional support, and if needed, physical "comfort".
>Considering the pony is still technically property, it's not counted any different than using a sex toy.
>And that pony is not the only one with that idea.
>The following generation shows a marked improvement over their predecessors thanks to the kind acts of the humble ponies during turbulent times in their lives.
>Motherly mares are the best one to handle this kind of situation

>This old good green

It would not be strange if this generation of people not only struggled to improve the living conditions of the ponies, but also eventually pressured for their emancipation, and some more daring would like to legalize interspecies marriage
Someone let White Pig at the rigs drilling console!

Would you trust your medieval / magical slaves with serious industrial machinery? Could they ever develop the ‘common sense’ judgment to discriminate between that ‘happy whirring sound’ and that ‘weird grinding noise’ that means something’s wrong? Could they even figure out what all those lights and levers are even supposed to do? Or is that an inherently human thing, like magic is for them?

>9, again
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“Hey! Come on, sleepyhead. Up - on the double now, up, up, up!”
> Cog Whirl tumbles from the bed in his typical messy jumble of sheets, an also-normal groan accompanying his impact with the floor.
> “Wha’ wazzat for?”
“I didn’t do anything. You fell on your own. That wouldn’t happen if you were sober.”
> Extracting his head enough to give it a little shake, Cog simply laughs.
> That, for some reason, annoys you.
> You’d been expecting…
> Anger?
> Some kind of a real response.
> Something to suggest he was feeling something about the situation.
> But… nothing.
“Get showered. You have work to do. We’re already going to be late, and I don’t like late.”
> “Yeah, yeah…”
> With all the speed of a well-fed slug he pulls himself alright and starts meandering around towards the bathroom.
“Now, Cog!”
> Hah, now that shout got him moving!
> And he does perk up when he emerges to spot Kalendae waiting for him - ears pricking up a bit at the sight of the Thestral mare.
> If only that enthusiasm for being with her would translate into enthusiasm for…
> Well, anything else.
> Oh, yes - he’s learning.
> And he’s skilled.
> You’ve rarely seen anypony able to pull up answers as accurately - and more importantly, confidently - as he does.
> But quickly…?
> No.
> Work is regarded as some kind of imposition on his time paying attention to Kalendae, and not all the drill-sergeant barking or reminders in the world seem to get through to that.
> By the end of the day's exercises, even Kalendae is looking ready to lash out at something - or somepony.
> Which would be less alarming if it were the first, second, or even sixth day working at him like this.
> It is the fifteenth.
> By the fifteenth, you'd have expected to see some sign - any sign - of your decision breaking through.
> Instead, it is Kalendae who seems to be cracking.
> While Cog Whirl stumbles off, you catch her with one extended wing and lower your voice.

"If he's getting to you, I can call this off. Wherever this goes, I can't have you losing your cool."
> Huffing, Kalendae snaps her tail back and forth.
> "He works for me… but it’s for me. Only for me. He does nothing I do not prompt him too, because he only seeks my approval.”
“Wouldn’t he want to just… do it, then? Make you even happier?”
> Kalendae snorts.
> “You have become too used to your eager Wonderbolt-recruits, Captain. Think with the mind of one who wishes to ‘negotiate’ out a maximum of rewards from his superiors.”
> ...right.
> This was the pony who’d argue his way into getting as much of a hit as he could.
“He’ll drag his hooves just enough so that you have to stick around, but not so much you just give up.”
> “And he knows, I think, that I cannot give up. I cannot condemn him.”
> Neither could you.
> Not another pony, condemned to that fate.
“Rutting bastard. And the rutting bastards who made him this way!”
> “If we cannot change him, then…”
> Kalendae hisses through her teeth, shaking her head - tail lashing back and forth as she scuffs at the ground with a hoof.
“I’ll go talk to him again. See if I can’t drive some more sense into his head.”
> “I believe we need a new tactic. You may try, though.”
> You catch up with Cog nearly back at the sleeping trailers.
"Cog - hey, Cog Whirl!"
> He stops looking back at you - the stallion's typical dopey smile fading as he sees who is pursuing him.
> "What now, Spitfire?"
"We need to talk about your dedication, Cog."
> Dropping to your haunches in front of him leaves you still nearly as tall as he - and your glare cares not about height differences.
"You aren't really trying to work on your own. Kalendae can see it as much as I am. That's a real problem, Cog, 'cause in a team like this we need everypony keeping themselves going."
> At your mention of Kalendae he actually looks a little worried, and you seize on that.

> At your mention of Kalendae he actually looks a little worried, and you seize on that.
"You like her, don't you? Don't have to deny it; we're not a formal military and I'm not blind anyway."
> "Fuck. Guess the Lozzie cost me that subtlety, huh?"
> You kind of get the sense that this stallion had all the subtlety of a feral thunderstorm in the first place.
> But not the right time to mention that.
"Yeah, it's pretty obvious now."
> "Eh, what can I say? She's got a rockin' rump, and that funky exotic thing goin' with her wings, y'know? And spirit. A damn lot of spirit in that mare!"
> Wait, was he comparing Kalendae to you?
> You aren't sure whether to be more insulted by his comparing your bodies - yeah, your butt wasn't the biggest, but you were a racer-built pony and had more than enough tuft to make up for it! - or your spirit.
> That spirit was what you really prided yourself on.
> It'd carried you through months in a cage and nearly losing Anonymous...
"Keep it in your sheath right now, colt. I don't care what you fantasize about at night, but I don't want to hear about it-"
> "What, you chasing her too? Didn't take you for that type, y'know? Figured you and your master were-"
> His hips rock suggestively.
> "-havin' a little fun, with how close you are..."
> You suck in a deep breath and force your hackles down.
"Cog Whirl?"
> "Yeah?"
"If you ever say anything like that again, I will literally geld you. Am I understood?"
> At least he has the good sense to actually look a little scared.
> "Yeah! Tartarus' black pits, chill out - I was joking!"
"I don't care. Look, Cog - I really don't care what you're into. All I care about is that we get through this safe."
> Stretching out a leg, you tap his chest (and feel mildly dirty doing so).
"And that means we can't be babying you. If you like Kalendae that much, stop worrying her and actually get with the job. And once we're done, and you're free, then you can do whatever you want with her."
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> "You got that in writing? That we'll be free?"
"I've got the next best thing, which is Anonymous' word. Good as given."
> "Then go get yourself stuffed."
> This time, you can't even manage to disguise your anger.
> You hop up to your hooves again, wings outspread and frustration on your face.
"What in all Harmony is wrong with you, Cog Whirl? Don't you want to be free at all? Have any desire to-"
> "No, I really don't."
> Cog meets you head on, lowering his horn in a typical unicorn-charge posture.
> "You don't get it. I go free, I go do what? Kalendae runs off to play guardpony for a dead nation, but I'm not that stupid. Browbeating me like one of your recruits isn't going to help either. It isn't going to bring Equestria back. Nothing will."
> Snorting, he tosses his head and paws at the concrete.
> "So I'll be free? To go where? A dead nation, poverty, or back into serving them? Fuck it, I'll drag my hooves a bit if it means she's around more. ‘Cause y’know what? Even if she is playing at being a real guard still, at least she gives a damn. More than her body, even, that’s what I like about her. She cares."
“And I don’t?”
> “Not like she does.”
> You let him turn and wander off again.
> What else can you do?
> This is a dead end.
> You don't want to abandon Cog Whirl.
> But how do you fix somepony that broken?
> Didn’t you care about him just as much as Kalendae did?
> You take to wing again, seeking solace high up in the sky.
> Here, at least, you could find some measure of peace alone with your burning muscles.
> Or not - again, your mystery stalker at the edge of camp makes themselves known, a blur flying along the edge of the wooded hillside.
> You know what?
> You’ve had it.
> No fancy plans, no strategic flying.
> Just a mare and her muscles this time.
> Pushing yourself to a hard limit - an especially hard limit, given that you had not stretched before trying this - you lean into a shallow dive.
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> Coming screaming out of the sky like a yellow meteor, your prey resolves itself into a blueish blur that finally catches sight of you at the last second and dives into the woods.
> A turn too late this time!
> This further out the woods aren’t so thin; you can’t be led astray so easily.
> You can see them now, a coat of blue but broken up by the ragged remnants of a light jacket of some kind.
> Still closing fast-
> A last few hard beats of your wings-
> Curving down into an arcing tackle-
> Planting your forelegs directly about their wings and squeezing hard on their ribs to restrict breathing.
> Their flight wobbles, fails, and sends both of you into a tumbling, spinning collision with the forest floor.
> Starbursts fill your vision; still, you were the more prepared.
“Gotcha! You’re not running away this time, you-”
> “Spits? Spitfire?!”
> That voice.
> Impossible.
> Utterly impossible.
> You shake your head to clear your vision, squeeze your eyes shut and open them-
> To reveal that your hooves are locked around an unimaginable sight.
> Impossible.
> Unbelievable.
> Inconceivable!
> So shocking that you forget to even breath for several seconds.
> Then he shakes you again, and-
> You breath.
> Start to think.
> Because in this case, the impossible seems really true.
> Soarin - your Soarin - is here.
> Those same green eyes, aged now and with even greater bags beneath them.
> That same well-built frame, wide wings, and rough coat beneath scraps of ragged cloth.
> Even that same smell filling your nostrils.
> No question, this is him.
> “Winds guide me… it really is you Spiiiimmmph!”
> His statement is cut off hard as you kiss him full-on on the lips, heart racing.
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“Soarin! What are you-?! I just can’t believe… can’t believe it was you, all the way out here-”
> “The same! I heard ponies talking around, but it didn’t ever feel safe to come closer. Especially with that griffon…”
“Gerard? Oh, yeah. It’s probably lucky you didn’t run into him.”
> You laugh - a loud, ringing, almost crazed laugh coming up from the part of you that really doesn’t quite believe this is true yet.
“Harmony’s sakes, Soarin - what are you even doing out here?”
> “Doing? Surviving, mostly.”
> You crawl off of him, and Soarin stands - shaking himself off, and letting you see how rough he really was.
> His fur is ragged and shaggy, some of it looking like he had barely shed the last of his long winter coat.
> Mane and tail are little better; you can see some nasty-looking tangles in them.
> And what you had taken to be a jacket was in reality little more than a cloak of faded and stained cloth from Celestia-knows-what.
> But his eyes…
> They are still alive.
> Alive with same easygoing confidence you’d always seen in him.

What's this? A new appearance! But raising many more questions to come...

Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/zKnTieaA - and as always, comments, feedback, and criticism are deeply appreciated.
>Would you trust your medieval / magical slaves with serious industrial machinery?
abso-fucking-lutely not. shit was designed for use by humans and pones do not have the fine motor control necessary for operation of industrial equipment beyond a sewing machine, and if they tried they'd be a risk to not only themselves but to everyone/pony around them.
>inb4 unicorn
>giving a unicorn magical freedom
>His statement is cut off hard as you kiss him full-on on the lips, heart racing.
Wait a minute this doesn’t mesh with my wish fulfillment at all

Interesting development, though. Wonder how the thread will take it.
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RIP Anon

Destined to die on his second and final trip to Equestria, just threw up a massive death flag.
>That wouldn’t happen if you were sober.”
So he DID manage to wheedle some drugs out of the team? Spitfire and Kalendae didn’t just mosey down to the Alberni Shoppers Drug Mart and whip out a credit card. How did they sell the idea of buying addictive magic suppressing drugs (that suppress the very magic they need) to their human masters?!

> “I believe we need a new tactic.
Slave ponies need the lash sometimes. Kalendae doesn’t want to believe this, but Cog will bring her to that painful light eventually. Only question is: who will wield it?

> At your mention of Kalendae he actually looks worried
Duplicate line there, and in the paste too! Remember to trim it.

>"If you ever say anything like that again, I will literally geld you.
It’s actually a credible threat. Not literally at her own hoof, but he’s Anons private property at the moment. If Anon thought he needed to he could haul him up to Courtney, have it done, and be back in time for supper. Perhaps a bit less ‘spirit’ is what Cog needs...

>"I've got the next best thing, which is Anonymous' word. Good as given."
“GOOD AS” given?! Anon explicitly gave his word to Spitfire that everypony he owns except Spitfire herself (and WTF was up with that) would be freed upon return to Earth, right? Or did he leave himself some wiggle room in the wording that I forget?

>Kalendae runs off to play guardpony for a dead nation, but I'm not that stupid.
It sounds contradictory, but I totally get how Cog can admire Kalendaes passion without sharing it in the least. Subtle characterization there. Could Cog be passionate about machinery, about this beautiful antique plane herself?

Spitfire and Kalendea aren’t the only ones getting frustrated with Cog! A shakeup of the plot is just what the pacing needs. Spitfire needs to ask how much Whitworth and his Gerard care about someone else’s random runaway hanging around. What’s Soarins take on the Canadian legal situation?
>RIP Anon
His plot armor is absolutely impregnable. Not a chance.
So is rosa going to fuck?
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We thought so but this changes everything. Before it was Spitfire and Anon as the main characters, working through a very complicated social dynamic. Now it's just Spitfire.
What else can be done narratively except get rid of the remaining blocks to her happiness? She already knows how to fly the plane, she already has several contacts to give her work hauling stuff.
With this death flag there's only one possible way this can go, and that's a circle. Anon is going to die in some accident that's kind of Spitfire's fault, and the story is going to end with her recruiting a copilot replacement the same way Anon got her at the start of F&S1.
> "You know this one's a bit of trouble? You're going to have to keep an eye on him."
> "So I've been told. You can control him, though?"
> "Yeah, just crank the collar up if he gives you any real problems. You things can take a good jolt."
> "I know..."
> The voice in the background are nothing unusual.
> After how long you've been in here, they're something you barely notice.
> Not even worth raising your head from the remains of the rough cloth bedding.
> Hooved feet stopping in front of the tiny, wire-twisted entrance to your cage and nudging it with one aluminum-shod tip, though?
> That's unusual.
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>Cog and Kalendae
I was right that have something going on between them. Since the on plane tour where Kalendae talked into Cog's ear instead of using the intercom.
If they keep it up Kalendae might be the reason Cog gets it together and stops acting like a bag of sand.
>Insulting Spitfire
Loosing the equal grounds in a conversation and not accepting it? Maybe he has some fight in him.
>blue trail
I don't think Soarin were mentioned as Spitfire's lover in the previous F&H green(s). Why did he ran away from Spitfire? There were a few times already when Spitfire was the only one chasing him. I suspect something.

Thanks for the update!
Rosa going into the most raging heat ever and getting her pussy pounded when
Canon as of the latest episode.

Magic-suppressing horn rings.
Haven’t seen S9. What’s the deal with her and her ring?
Playing buckball, which requires 2 of each race.

Celestia made magic-suppressing horn rings so that unicorns could play as earth ponies.
>Celestia made magic-suppressing horn rings so that
she could implement her long term pony slavery plans. Pony is for slave, of course, but she needs to lay the groundwork slowly. Reforms to the bankruptcy codes are next on the list...

This is how it ends. Celestia has simply had it. Endless petty drama brought to the highest court, wasting her time and testing her patience!

Luna made the suggestion to just enslave the ponies for a thousand years. Like a vacation for the alicorns of Equestria. At first Celestia was horrified, but as the years rolled on and the ponies seemed increasingly ungrateful for how good their lives truly are, she tried introducing monsters and disasters, to be easily vanquished by the same ponies that had cured Luna, of course. But this didn't improve things. The ponies quickly came to take the Elements for granted.

Then one day, she lured the Storm King to Equestria as the newest threat. He was naturally defeated in the end, while Celestia played her role expertly. And she noticed something...after being released from bondage, her ponies were grateful to be free. Grateful to see each other again. Grateful for all of the simple things that made life in Equestria great. For about two months.

Well, okay then, she thought. Maybe Luna was right. Maybe a few hundred years under the yoke of another race will fix this lack of gratitude. So she summoned her greatest artifacts and peered into a hundred universes before settling on...the Humans.
>Well, okay then, she thought. Maybe Luna was right. Maybe a few hundred years under the yoke of another race will fix this lack of gratitude. So she summoned her greatest artifacts and peered into a hundred universes before settling on...the Humans.
But what about Celestia? She will stay "slaved" by a specific family? That family will growth up with Celestia as personal maid for multiple generations? she will share that family with luna?
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>The van's brakes screeched as Anon pulled to a stop in front of yet another red light.
>”You're awfully quiet.”
>He rapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he stared at the intersection ahead.
“Am I just a piece of furniture?”
>The words came out far snappier than she intended and earned her a glance.
“I mean, I'm used to being stared at since I don't exactly blend in, but that was something else.”
>Anon reached over to pet her mane.
>”You'll just have to get used to that. Some of us prefer to keep believing in the lies we were told rather than admit being wrong.”

>The light turned green.
>The engine growled as Anon put his foot down.
“I know.”
>Celestia turned to face the side window like she was looking out of it.
>She didn't see the sidewalk whizzing past, though.
>She saw herself knocking on the door to Luna's room a very, very long time ago.
>Luna never answered, and she was oh so busy with oh so important business.
>If only she'd been strong enough to admit she was wrong.
“I know more than anypony else.”
>And now Luna was gone.


>”Would you feel better if I got you a little something?”
>Anon's voice drew Celestia back to the present.
>They were inching their way through a parking lot near a huge building that was plastered with logos.
>His head swiveled from side to side in search of a free spot.
“Uhm, I guess it wouldn't hurt. What'd you have in mind?”
>A bit of a smile found its way on her face.
>Maybe he'd get her some grapes?
>Some plump, juicy, sweet grapes.
>”I'll see if I run into something nice.”
>He slammed the brakes and pushed the stick between them to 'R' – which apparently stood for 'Reverse', as he then reversed into an open spot.
>”But first, there's a few things we need to get. You are going to buy a bed for yourself, and I will get the groceries plus a handful of other small things.”

“So turn left when we go in and then go straight until I run into the big furniture store with a yellow and blue logo? Got it.”
>The pavement under Celestia's hooves was warm from the sun, despite how the hottest time of the day was long past, as they crossed the parking lot.
“How am I supposed to pay for it, though?”
>Anon tapped at his phone as he walked beside her.
>”I activated your collar's prepaid debit feature and gave you a fifty, enough for their basic models. They'll know how it works.”
>He reached over and tapped her collar just as the mall's automated doors opened in front of them.
>”I'm not expecting any of that back by the way, so spend whatever's left over however you like. Your collar's got tracking so I'll find you when I'm done. Till then!”
>A smile and wave was all she got from him before he headed the other way, leaving Celestia all alone in a crowded shopping mall.

>They didn't just give her the passing glance.
>No, many stopped and turned to stare as she trotted by.
>Those who weren't alone whispered to each other:
>That pony, never heard of, odd, so big, the tail.
>Celestia paid little attention to the humans.
>She found the glimpses of pony far more interesting.
>There, in that pet store as a clerk, talking to some man and waving a hoof at bags of cat food.
>An earth pony stallion.
>Somepony Celestia didn't remember seeing before.
>He was clean, looked well fed with how shiny and smooth his coat was, and even had his mane neatly combed to one side.
>She would've loved to go in for a chat, but she had an errand to run and his collar bore the name of the store he was in.
>So, she had to settle with knowing he was safe, if not free.

>The furniture store was, with a word, enormous.
>It sold everything a furniture store could possibly sell.
>All she could see from the entrance were couches, stools, dinner tables, bookshelves, TV tables, office chairs, kitchen sets, shower curtains, picture frames, lamps...
>The map next to her told her it had departments for every room a pony could possibly have.
>Well, apart from throne rooms and dungeons.
>But everything a normal pony could have.
>It even had its own in-store restaurant.
>It made Celestia feel a little lost.
>Furnishing the caste had always been somepony else's job.
>She shook her head, thought about the kind of bed she wanted, and trotted towards the recliners, sofas, and coffee tables.

>”Mommy, can I pet that pony? She has a funny mane.”
>A bright voice drew Celestia's attention as she was looking at a bed frame (beech, single person, barebones model – exactly what she was looking for).
>The source was a young boy, standing next to his mother and pointing at Celestia.
>The woman didn't even look at her son, instead searching for something in a bargain bin.
>”You know you can't pet working ponies, dear.”
>He looked very disheartened by this and made a quiet 'aww' sound.
“It's fine. I'm off duty.”
>Seeing the boy's face light up was enough of a reward to her.
>”Can I?”
>The mother finally looked away from her rummaging, and at Celestia.
>”Well, if she's fine with it then I'm fine with it.”
>Her brow furrowed as she studied the alicorn's features.
>Then she shrugged and went back to looking for whatever she was trying to find.

>The boy stopped about a step from her, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like he wasn't sure if it was okay to take the last step.
>”Hey miss pony. What's your name?”
>He put his hands behind his back and crossed his fingers as Celestia bent down to his level.
“I'm Celestia.”
>His mother, now holding a pillow, nodded at him as he glanced back.
>”Can I touch your mane? It looks so weird.”
>Celestia let a wide smile on her face and bowed her head.
>A little hand reached for her mane.
>His mouth turned into an O as he tried and failed to grasp the magic-infused strands.
“It's magic.”
>The intricacies of how the magic leaking out of her turned her mane into another form of matter entirely would be beyond the little boy.
>Instead of trying to explain it, she lit up her horn, ruffled the boy's hair, and put a wide smile on her face.
>”Oo! Hee!”
>He let out a short, bright giggle and grabbed an armful of mane.

>”Are you sure it's not too much trouble?”
>The boy's mother had her phone out and pointed at Celestia.
“No, no. Not at all.”
>The alicorn made sure to keep her gait steady as she walked beside the middle-aged woman.
>Two small legs, shaking with excitement, clamped at her barrel and two hands grasped her neck.
“He reminds me of the earth pony and unicorn fillies and colts I used to take for short flights. School visits on slow days were my favorite.”
>”Oo! Can you fly now? I wanna fly!”
>The weight on Celestia's back bobbed up and down.
>She shuffled her wings, but kept them folded.
“Not indoors, and not without somepony to catch you if you fall.”
>Nopony ever fell, of course, but she always had a guard ready just in case.
>He slumped against her neck, until Celestia took one hop of a step to make him all giddy again.

>Extremely tall industrial shelves stacked with numbered cardboard boxes stood on both sides of them.
“What was the shelf slot again?”
>The boy's mother, Shelly, tapped at her phone a few times.
>”There's G!”
>They boy's legs squeezed Celestia's barrel harder than usual as he took one hand off her neck to point.
“It is indeed! Now can you find spot 92 on that shelf?”
>She took to a light canter in the barely populated corridor between the shelves, making the boy glue himself to her neck.
>Shelly lifted her phone again to take a picture.

>The man working at the cashier hesitated for a second before grabbing the levitating cardboard box that Celestia presented.
>”That's 39.99.”
>He let go of the box and shook his hand like there was something disgusting stuck to it.
“There should be enough on my collar.”
>Tap tap tap.
>”Yeah, yeah, just touch this thing with it.”
>The spot he tapped had a credit card sticker on it, and was at the height an average pony's collar would be.
>Celestia had to bend down to reach it.
>”Thank you for your business. You got 10.01 left, is there anything else you'd like?”
“No, this is everything I need.”
>She waved a hoof at the cashier before trotting to Shelly, the boxed bedframe floating beside her and a little boy riding on her.

>”It's time to get off now, dear. Celestia still has errands to run and we need to get home. Daddy's waiting.”
>Celestia bent her hooves and laid down on the floor on her stomach to let the boy off.
>He hugged her neck and pet her mane.
>The weight on her back shifted and disappeared as he swung his feet to the same side and hopped off.
>Celestia craned her neck and nuzzled his cheek.
>It was as soft as the fuzz of a filly.
“We can have another go if we meet again. But as your mother said, I have errands to run.”
>She let the boy stroke her cheeks for a little while longer before flashing a smile at him and trotting off, boxed bed in tow.
To be continued

The busy times are over now, so I'm back.
Thanks! Glad to see you're back
I don't know man, buckball is a very physical game.
unicorns are the weakest physically...
looks like a plain disadvantage to me.
No, I will not buy a bedfilly
>Be mare
>47 wants to explain the anatomy of the terrorist attack yeasterday
>He looks like he's been up all night as details are reported along with misinformation about it
>He's seems sure he can tell which is which
>You're pretty sure you couldn't
>It's mind blowing how people react to events like this on the internet
>The news outlets report the official story
>But for various reasons details are left out
>That opens the door for conspiracy theory types to add their own speculation about those details
>Speculation that is shaped by their political beliefs
>And it's easy for those with the same beliefs to find each other and push their view of it
>Regardless of whether the "facts" used to support that view are actual facts
>When someone is called out for incorrect facts they label their accuser fake news
>Which strikes you as really ironic
>But it also undercuts the ideals men claim to support
>Not that it matters to you, because nopony has any actual say in civic life or politics
>Free ponies can march around on the streets and talk on TV, but none of you can vote
>Only poeple can vote, and the result of the vote is supposed to represent the will of the people
>Which strikes you as silly and maybe even a little stupid
>In order for the vote to represent the will of the people the people need to have access to correct information
>If no one can be sure of what's true and what isn't why even vote?
>Your vote isn't going to represent your will if your choice is based on incorrect information!
>Skydancer once told you that religious statements can neither be proven nor disproven
>Because religion has no proof - it's a matter of faith, which is whether or not you believe it
>The whole idea of faith sounds like wishful thinking to you, but it's popular with people
>But when the news becomes a matter of faith, whether or not you choose to believe it instead of whether or not it's actually true?
>Something about that seems really wrong
>Stories in the news should be based on facts
>And you suspect some sources believe that more than others
>But social media is now a news source - one you stay away from
>Not 47, though
>He's been combing through it all night and into morning, discussing every find with 42 who stayed with him dutifully
>Then 42 asked for Rose's permission to debrief the colt while 47 debriefs the two of you
>She reluctantly agreed, but firmly told the stallion not to traumatize the colt any more than he already is
>42 assured her he intended to do just the opposite
>Which leaves you and Rose sitting in front of a disheveled looking 47
>"The shooter - I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of naming him - was from Rochester," he begins
>"And he was more ambitious than most," he continues
"Both an automatic weapon and a bomb, you mean?"
>"A van full of explosives, to be precise," 47 replies. "This guy was thinking bigger than a high bodycount at a soft target"
>"The market wasn't a soft target?," Rose asks
>"That wasn't his first choice," 47 answers, "He wanted to take out the KtMA Day of Action,but he broke down outside of Ithaca, where he had to spend the night"
"So car trouble is the only reason there was no mass shooting at the Day of Action?"
>"Followed by an explosion that would have taken out police and emergency responders"
>"This guy was anti-police as well?," Rose asks
>"When police protect free pony lives they're on the wrong side of the fight in their view," 47 says matter of factly
>"Why is there a fight in the first place?," Rose asks, "I'm not fighting anyone"
>"You have to understand the inflammatory langue they use to frame it," he responds. "Do you want me to go there?"
>"Can you maybe, like, go halfway there?," Rose asks
>The stallion sighs
>"OK," he begins, "The way they see it nothing was done to stop the invasion so something has to be done to stop the replacement"
>"The arrival of ponies here in the first place," he answers
>That gets a visible reaction from Rose, who is practically shaking with anger
>"We were refugees fleeing a darkened world!," she nearly shouts, "not to mention half of us were enslaved upon arrival!"
>"They're more or less OK with that half," he answers
>"Of course they are," Rose practically spits
>"But they see free ponies as invaders to their country," 47 continues, "who will eventually replace them"
"Replace? We can't even become citizens yet"
>"They're afraid that day will come when your numbers are bigger than theirs," he replies, "then you will have taken their place"
>"That's ridiculous," Rose replies
>"Their fears are based on reproductive rates," 47 continues, "Free ponies recently edged past hispanic people"
"Really?! I mean there are a lot of fillies and colts running around here, but I didn't realize..."
>"Reproductive rates increase dramatically when a population is under stress, and fall when it isn't," he explains
>"Ponies are definitely under stress here, whether free or not," Rose answers
>"You're a perfect example, Ma'am, he says, "If you don't mind me saying so"
>"How so?,." she asks
>"Enslaved refugee gets herself pregnant at the first opportunity?," he asks
>Rose blushes hard and he nods
>"And you're thinking about giving him a brother or sister in spite of being romantically involved with another mare?," he asks
>"Shit, you're good," she answers
>"I'm observant Ma'am," he replies, "Major part of the job"
>He adds, "Hispanics used to be the main targets of this kind of terrorism until free pony breeding rates caught up with them"
"Just free ponies? I would think in the case of private property ponies breeding is very profitable for the owners"
>"Of course, unless the ponies are worth more in specialized fields," he replies
>"Like we were," Rose replies, "and you still are"
>"I'm a stallion, so it doesn't apply. But of course I've been bred"
>He added that bit just to brag, you're sure of it
"So that's why they hate us? We're here and outbreeding them?"
>"And by doing so eventually change the culture by changing the demographics of it, correct," he replied
>"So when this psycho missed the Day of Action he still had the gun and the bomb and he... just decided to use them anyways?"
>"Apparently he spent a few days scouting soft targets here until he found one he liked in the form of the market"
"I shopped there"
>"Everypony shops there," 47 replies, "Or shopped there. The building isn't really standing anymore"
"Shit. How many were killed?"
>"Thirty five ponies, six people and over fifty injured," he replies, "With a few still missing"
"That was a big explosion!"
>"Most of the victims died from gunshot wounds," he says, "Not much you when the shooter has a tactical assult rifle"
>"Why do they even sell those things?," Rose asks, then adds, "That's just crazy"
>"I agree, but we don't make the rules," he replies. "I can't even tell you what to do, but I can advise you"
"Stay away from places that would be easy targets? Kind of hard living in Ponytown"
>"Try to avoid situations where lots of ponies are gathered in one place," he replies. "KtMA rallies, for example"
>He looks ar Rose
>"This hit close enough to home as is," he continues, "but if his and your plans had both worked out we might not be having this talk right now"
>"Crystal's not going to like that," Rose replies
>"Even once you explain how close she came to...?," he answers
>"No closer than if she'd been shopping at the pony market yesterday," Rose counters
>47 looks at her gravely and says, "We can't eliminate risk, but we can do our best to minimize it"
>"Which means you and Forty Two telling me a lot of things I don't want to hear, right?," she asks
>"Prpbably, Ma'am," he replies
"On an unrelated note... or more like an FYI..."
>Why do you feel embarrassed bringing this up?
>It's nothing to be ashamed of, this is how things are done these days
"I downloaded a dating app and I'm going to give it a shot. Just letting you know"
>"That shouldn't be a problem, Ma'am," he answers. "Whoever you date will probably be aware of your celebrity and not be put off by..."
"The fact that security will be there with us? I don't even know how I feel about that"
>"Ive been nothing but professional, Ma'am," he says, "and will continue to conduct myself in that manner"
>Did he sound a little sad saying that?
>You know he thinks you're cute
>And you think he's cute, too
>If the situation were different maybe...
>Stop kidding yourself
>If he were a free stallion and not your bodyguard you'd totally jump him
>And maybe even get to have a little peek at the stallion underneath the good little soldier act
>You still COULD do it
>But it might be cruel - that's what you're afraid of
>If things work out what happens when this assignment comes to an end?
>You're pretty sure you can't afford to just buy him, and how would he feel about that if you could?
>And if things didn't work out, which seems like the more likely option
>He'd still be stuck on assignment with you, or forced to admit to his organization he'd compromised the asset
>So as easy as it would be to just fuck the stallion you spend so much time with in the first place...
>It would be really unfair to him
>And at the end of the day he's still a stallion
>If you threw yourself at him he wouldn't resist, even though he knows better
>Knowing better doesn't matter once the penis gets involved in the decision making
>Don't think about his penis!
>You can't even let on what you're thinking
>There's no way his ego could handle you thinking he's the more vulnerable one in this situation
>But he is
>And that's the only reason he's not balls deep in you right now


>chapter ending
>without something horrible happening to one of the cast
Did not expect that
Thiy just occurred to me:
Spitfire will either go free, Soarin joins the crew, one of them dies.
Damn this is a gamechanger.
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>used to have to summon and bind demonic entities to get maybe half an hour of quality snuggle
>now you just have to fill out some paperwork and sit in a plastic cage for a few hours to get your own, permanent human
This really is the future, huh?
>"And you're thinking about giving him a brother or sister in spite of being romantically involved with another mare?,"
>”But of course I've been bred"
Romance is not possible for him, but Rose could pay him the same compliment his company did. Would they want a stud fee from a free mare? How would Equestrian-born Roseluck feel about participating in that market?! If she and they could not come to terms, how would this loyal slave feel about an unauthorized freebie?

>There's no way his ego could handle you thinking he's the more vulnerable one in this situation
It really resonated with me. Mare is a good pony and a good friend, and you’ve done a great job of showing how she got that way.

Good work once more.
>last AWF update was more than a week ago
You want to hit the 1M mark with a single update?
>Thirty five ponies killed isn't horrible
Fucking human. I bet you only care about the fuckable ponies. That why we need to replace you
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He's trying to figure out how to lewd rosa without triggering half you autistic fucks
t. unicorn
Rosa pussy should be only for Paolo. That leave her mouth and ass free to use for everyone when she hit the heat in her journey
Futile task. They'll be triggered no matter what he does. That Rosa is pure bullshit they spout amounts to a Catcher in the Rye level of autism.
We need a sequel to Forty Sevens Baby Mama, with Rose. His last (and first) partner was Nothing: the most broken pony in the world, and he was a sort of shit lover too. Rose is vastly more experienced and would also be his owners customer, with explicit authority over him. That would be an interesting contrast, and an interesting challenge to his particularly focused ego.
>We need a sequel to Forty Sevens Baby Mama, with Rose
Fuck. Is this something people want? Let me have a little break between arcs, but if there's demand I'll see what I can do. And as always thanks for reading!
Rush of the moment or were they an item before?
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Dont care. Mare puss was made for human cock. Paolo never had a chance, doomed to be cucked by mankind.

actually, a big client of ours had a crypto virus atrack. me and my team were there from monday evening till about now, restoring everything.
update is nearly ready, posting tonight if I manage to get home
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>middle ages anon and his guardpony servant
>Will of The People?
I don’t know, it would sort of break up the flow of the story now, maybe save it for later? It does seem to be a bottomless well of feels though, even aside from the clop, and thus right up your ally. Rose would be using him to get a foal without any inter-personal entanglements; that would be pretty humiliating, especially if she went through official channels and rented his dick from the Agency. Even her asking would get him removed from this interesting case. On the other hoof, she would be picking his studly self out of all the other stallions in the world, and showing him a good time too! The roles of bodyguard / client, master / slave, friends, lovers, and parents would all collide in a big squishy mess.
47 is always so aware of the situation and in command of his environment, even (or especially!) as a slave. He’s so good at projecting competence and manipulating his principles for their own good. Rose would never put up with his ‘bite the ear and stuff it in there’ routine though, she would demand to be treated like a Princess, and 47 just has no idea what that even is. All that deep cultural context has been stolen from him, and this encounter might make him finally realize it.
>Rose would never put up with his ‘bite the ear and stuff it in there’ routine
I dunno. She lived as a straight mare in Equestria and had a huge thing for Perfect Pitch. There's probably a part of her that loves that, and it's in conflict with the part of her that wants to be over penises in general.
Just another mass shooting, nothing to see here, walk along...

> This again. You're trying to peer through impenetrable darkness when you realize it's the now-familiar dream once more. You immediately look around for the eyes even while groaning in exasperation.
"Dammit, enough with this crap already!"
> Maybe Sky Light's speech is rubbing off on you a little, but the swear words come in handy sometimes.
> There's no sight of your dream visitor - subconsciousness, you guess. Maybe this time it dragged you in here without even anything to say.
> Not that its messages have been any use with all the inane, cryptic secrecy.
> You're tapping your hoof impatiently.
> The voice seems to come from all directions at once: "White Pigeon."
> Yes, she's said that already.
"What about a stupid bird?!"
> "Find it."
> You roll your eyes. If this really *is* your subconsciousness, then it has a serious flair for the dramatic. Over-dramatic, you'd say. On the other hand, if this is some magical prophecy-type stuff, then it could at least be a little less cryptic.
> Sitting down in the middle of the soft floor - at least you guess it's the middle, there aren't any walls that you can see - you hang your head wearily.
"Look, I wanna help you, I really do. You'll just have to be a bit more specific, okay? First of all, who are you?"
> There's silence. You still can't see the signature eyes anywhere around you, but there's a sense of alertness now.
> "I am," the thing, whatever it is, says. "I am in need of your help."
> You open your mouth to utter a few more bad words, but the voice speaks up again, this time from your left. "I can't remember. It is hard."
> As you twirl to look in the direction the voice seems to come from behind: "Why can't I remember?"

> You are still pretty annoyed, but you sense the distress in the voice. Confusion and fear. Is it a reflection of how you've felt ever since your life was upturned?
"I'm sorry. I don't know how to help you."
> There's nothing more. You turn in a circle to peer in all directions, but there's no eyes, nor do you see any kind of shape. Finally, your eyes are drawn up, where the sky is filled with stars.
> There's a full moon. Has that always been there in the dream? Even you are losing your grip on things, it seems.
"I guess this is the part you tell me not to trust people, right?"
> There's no answer. Strange - until now you've always been thrown out of the dream when this figment of your imagination stopped talking.
> Well, if it's not going to bother you any more, you might as well get some well-earned rest. The floor is soft and warm - kind of like you imagine grass might feel in full summer. You curl up right there and lay your head down.
> Despite all the weirdness, this isn't a scary place. The voice had never threatened you, or tried to hurt you.
> You've got a full day ahead of you so you need your rest.
> Eventually you drift off.

> ~~~~

> Sky Light listens to your description of the dream, but she just shrugs it off. "It's probably just your imagination," the mare tells you. "You've been through an awful lot, you know?"
> You tend to agree with her.
"I know. It's just... weird."
> "Hell yeah it's weird," the pegasus confirms. Like always she's walking half a step ahead as you're making your way to the truck stop for coffee with the pony gang. "But the mind is an unfathomable marvel!"
> That was never Sky Light's own thought!
"Where did you pick that up?" you ask her.
> "Book," the mare admits easily. "It's good, isn't it?"

> You shrug a little, having never been a fan of repeating quotes from books. What was the point? They forced you to do that for your exams and you never liked it much.
> "Come on, it was good!" the pegasus whines and bumps you with her flank. You remain stoically silent and Sky Light starts grumbling as you walk: "Dunno why I even bother talking to your uncultured rump..."
> She falls silent when you come through the final few bushes and emerge on the lawn beside the truck stop. The others are already sitting in a circle next to the shop and Velvet waves the moment she spots you in the distance.
> "Good news!" Sky Light says, pointing the other way. You follow her hoof but don't see anything special.
> "Pavo is back!"
> That news makes your heart beat faster. Maybe he'll have something for you! You're about to trot over to the truck - it's not familiar to you, but you've never had a good eye for cars and such - but Sky Light puts a leg in your way.
> She shakes her head. "Let's get coffee first and have a chat with the guys. Pavo probably came in late last night, let the man sleep."
> Your ears fold down in disappointment and the pegasus laughs at your expression. "Or, you could go and wake him up with a nice pony blowjob - I'm sure he'd like that!"
> She laughs while your muzzle goes a nice shade of pink.
> You follow her to the ponies, trying to get the image out of your mind. The stallions all say their greetings as you approach but Velvet stands up and comes to meet you. "Nice getup," she says and one of the guys lets out a whistle.

> It had almost slipped your mind that you'd decided to wear the post-mare's uniform today, rather than the dirty nightie. You smile at the mare in gratitude, but then you catch sight of Sky Light as she pretends to be licking something in her hooves. Yep, total asshole.
> "What's wrong, sweetheart?" the mare asks, giving Sky Light a well-deserved glare. "What did she say to you?"
> Before you can reply the pegasus jumps in, barely containing her laughter: "Ah, Rosa was just asking me how she should go about 'earning some extra money'."
> She didn't have to sign the air quotes because they fell in place naturally with her inflection.
> "Oh, that!" Velvet says happily. "It's not a big deal, but you might wanna come just after dark. My advice? Keep an eye on which ones have gone to shower - trust me, you don't want a noseful of trucker-smell when you..."
> The mare falls silent with a very confused expression as Sky Light ends up flopping on the ground, laughing so hard she is liable to injure herself.
> "What did I say?" Velvet asks.
> You can barely meet her eyes, but you *have to* clear this up before she explains some more. You see Butch shuffling uncomfortably on the grass from the corner of your eye - you do not want that stallion any more excited.
"Please- Velvet, this *asshole* was just teasing me with it! I *don't* wanna do it!"
> Too late. Butch's gruff voice rises up in a verbal equivalent of a leer: "If you'd prefer pony cock I could spare a few dollars..."
> It makes you roll your eyes and sigh, but you don't look at the stallion lest you encourage him some more.
"Anyway, I was gonna buy Sky coffee today, but you can have it instead."

> This shuts the pegasus up. "Hey!" she says, standing up and fluffing her wings to dislodge the leaves and twigs she has picked up during her little laughing episode.
"Maybe next time you won't be such an asshole!" you tell her back.
> The mare turns her signature Pleading Look on you. "Come on! I was just joking!" she whines.
> You can't stay mad at her - not after all she's done for you. You keep being reminded each time you glance at your forelegs in the sleeves of the post-mare's uniform.
"Oh alright! I'll buy you both coffee!"
> It's not like you have all that many expenses. You've managed to save quite a bit of money for when you find where Maribelle is. Besides, you're in a good mood since Sky told you Pavo is back.
> You're really counting on him to have some concrete news. If not, there's still Taylor in his coffee shop later this night.
> Somehow you feel like you'll get some useful information today. Maybe it's a premonition resulting from your dream.
> The two mares fall in step behind you as you go for the truck shop, Velvet prancing a little in excitement. She really loves her coffee, that one.

> ~~~~

> The sun is starting to get pretty high up by the time you and Sky Light make your way to Pavo's truck. It's still closed and the curtain is drawn around the cabin. He must have really come in late last night to be asleep at this hour.
> The pegasus rears up and smacks her hoof on the metal a few times. After nothing happens for a minute, she does it again, this time also raising her voice: "Pavo?! Get up you lazy bastard!"
> There's a muffled swear from inside, but you see the truck rock a little as the man starts moving around in there.

> You'd tell the pegasus that she was being rude, but your mouth is full. The cashier was kind enough to let you borrow a tray so you didn't have to hobble across the whole parking lot with a plastic cup of coffee balanced on an upturned hoof.
> About a minute later the door opens, nearly smacking Sky Light in the muzzle. She'd deserve it, but the pegasus is too fast and jumps out of the way.
> Pavo looks out blearily.
"Mmmphm!" you try to say urgently, lifting the tray up as high as you can.
> "For me? Wow, thanks!" the human says, brightening up. He plucks the cup and swallows about half of it in a single gulp. Finally you can put the tray down.
"Hi! I didn't know what kind of coffee you liked so I just got you a plain one!"
> "Perfect," Pavo replies and takes another sip. "Black as the night and hot as Hell, just the way I like it!"
> You smile and swish your tail around at the praise. Then you look at him expectantly while he lifts the beverage up and drains the cup. It's the fastest you'd seen anyone drink a boiling hot coffee.
> "Boy I needed that. I came in real late last night. I wanted to bring you the news as soon as possible!"
> That gets your heart hammering again. Your smile turns nervous in expectation and you can't keep your hooves still.
"You found out about Maribelle?!" you gasp.
> Pavo shakes his head. "Not exactly," he admits, "but I have a good lead. Come on up, I'll show you!"
> Sky Light looks around, then interrupts: "You don't need me for this, right Rosa? I'll be with the others when you're done."
> You give the pegasus an impatient nod, then go stiff as the human puts his big hands around your barrel and lifts you up. He nudges you along until you slide into the driver's seat, before climbing up himself.

> "First thing," the man says, "my son absolutely loved your pictures! So thanks for that. You think I could make a few more?"
> You bob your head happily.
"Yeah, of course! Anything!"
> Your lungs are nearly bursting from the effort of not spilling all the questions. Instead, you politely wait for Pavo to get to the point.
> He can probably read your expectant look and your nervous shuffling of hooves, because he reaches back for his bags and rummages until he finds a green cardboard folder.
> "Okay, so this thing is pretty hush-hush, right? I wouldn't have found out anything, but a guy in my company sometimes delivers there."
> Your eyes are plastered on the folder, but you tear them away to look at the man and nod.
> This is it! You can feel it! You're about to find out where Maribelle is being held!
> "You need some kind of military secret clearance before you can even go near the place. Only two people at the firm have it and, as luck would have it, one of them is a buddy of mine."
> The man finally opens the folder and holds up a printed photo. It looks like a map, but the thing in the middle is just a white rectangle. At first you think it's a building, but there are no shadows.
> "See? No Google photos of this thing. Street View doesn't even go there. It's how you can tell this thing is top secret."
> You nod, but now you're a bit uncertain.
"How do you know it's about ponies?"
> The man smiles brightly. "Good question! There's nothing about this place on the Internet - I asked the guys in IT to check it out and it's like the address doesn't even exist. The reason I think that's your place is because my buddy - the one with the clearance - says he saw ponies being unloaded in cages one time he went there."

> You let out a small squeak and hug Pavo. Try to, anyway. The man is too big for your hooves to reach all the way around, but you still put in the effort. You even lick his bare forearm.
"Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! This is exactly it! Where is it?"
> "Some backwater place in Michigan no one's ever heard of," Pavo tells you.
> In your excitement you completely lose your place in the world and say the first thing that comes to mind:
"Death Valley?"
> The trucker is taken aback. "What?! No. Why would you say that? Death Valley is fucking *miles* away! The other side of the country!"
> You give it some more thought and remember the map of the United States from Mrs. Isaac's geography class.
> Pavo is right - you were completely in the wrong place and you blush a little in embarrassment.
"Sorry. I just heard rumors that's where it was. I didn't think."
> "Okay," the man concedes. "So, my company delivers maintenance supplies over there. Parts for machines, spare light bulbs, sockets, cable - stuff like that. Our trucks barely get inside the fence, so even my buddy doesn't know a whole lot."
> Pavo looks thoughtful for a moment. "In fact, I don't think he was even supposed to see ponies. I guess it was some kind of scheduling mix-up..."
> You nod in understanding. The government is always secretive so what Pavo is saying isn't anything surprising.
"Where is it?"
> The human takes another piece of paper and holds it out to you. "Best I can give you is the town. This thing is about twelve miles west of a place called 'White Pigeon'."

> It feels as if a bolt of lightning has run through you. Everything feels fuzzy for a moment and your breath catches in shock. Your legs go weak and your rump flops down to the seat. You would have toppled over completely, but Pavo catches you in a hug.
> "Shit, what did I say? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
> You might have. You open your mouth to try and calm the man, but all you can get out is a string of gargled noises.
"W-Wh... It's- How?!"
> There's absolutely no possible way for you to have known that. How did it end up in your dream?!
> You thought the voice was telling you about some stupid bird. You never even imagined it might be the name of a place!
> Was it Maribelle reaching out to you?
> You give a strangled, choking whimper. Is Maribelle dead?! Maybe her ghost is trying to visit you in your dreams?!
> For a moment your bladder weakens, but you manage to hold it in. You blink your tears away to look at Pavo's extremely concerned face.
> "What's wrong, girl?!" he asks, his voice deeply etched with worry.
> You shake your head, trying to stop him from fretting, but it isn't doing much. Not with the way your ears are stiffly held to the sides and trembling.
"N-No-Nothing," you manage to stutter. "I t-think I dreamed about-"
> Not even able to say the name of the place. You pluck the paper from Pavo's unresisting hand and look at the address he's written down.
> Plain as your hoof holding it: 'White Pigeon, MI'.
> You swallow a lump. How long had the dream been saying that? Is it really possible it has been Maribelle's ghost all this time? If not her, then who - or what?!
> "Hey, relax, relax, it's fine. Maybe it's just deja vu? Just breathe for a moment." Pavo suggests.

> You shake your head, but still take his advice. You manage several deep breaths, then - wordlessly - crawl into Pavo's lap and bury your face in his shirt.
> After a moment his hand comes up and gives your cheek a careful scratch. For a second you're afraid you might cry, but you're not sad - not exactly.
> It's just the mixture of shock, bewilderment, disbelief and sheer, gut-twisting relief.
> Now you have something to go on.
> You're *sure* it's the place where you'll find Maribelle. At least - you add to yourself - you'll find out what has happened to her.
"Please don't let me be too late!" you whimper.
> "You're not too late. Your friend will be fine, sweetie. Just relax. Breathe."
> You almost don't remember who it is that's comforting you, but you feel his fingers running through your mane. His other hand feels solid around your barrel. You're grateful for the touch.
> "Take as long as you need, okay? I'm not in a hurry," Pavo keeps talking. "I drove extra yesterday to get this news to you as soon as possible, so I got a couple of hours to spare."
> The hand pats your head a few more times then goes back to running through your mane. "We'll just take it nice and easy. Later, if you feel up to it, we'll make a few more photos. Would you like that?"
> You manage to nod against his chest.
> "Good girl. Just take it easy. I didn't mean to spook you like that."
> It's not right that this nice human is so worried about you. You pull your face away and manage a wan smile.
"You d-didn't. It's okay. I'll be fine - I just need to p-process this for a minute."
> The man smiles back, his hands never having stopped their petting. "As long as you need, sweetie."

> ~~~~

> You're still somewhat in a daze as you're making your way back to the truck shop. The ponies haven't left, even though you must have been with Pavo for at least an hour. They don't usually stay around this long.
> Halfway to them you realize they aren't all there. Velvet is lying on her side, tail swishing every now and then, Butch is sitting with his back to the group a short distance away and Pepper is on his belly, nearly touching Velvet's nose with his.
> There's no sign of Sky Light or Bluegrass and your step falters. Has something happened?
> A new wave of worry rises up in your heart as you hurry over.
"Hey. What's wrong? Where's Sky Light?"
> Velvet lifts her head to look at you. Her smile is really comforting. "She'll be back in a bit. She said for you to wait."
> Pepper looks up at you but doesn't add anything. Strangely, Butch doesn't seem to react to your presence at all. He just keeps sitting there and staring into the distance.
"What's up with him?"
> Velvet shifts a little to see where you're looking, then shrugs. She still doesn't get up. "Sky Light bloodied his muzzle for him," the mare explains.
"What?! Why?!"
> Velvet shrugs again lazily. It looks like you're not getting anything more from her, so you switch your gaze to the stallion.
> He stretches out and yawns before replying. "He was being too pushy again. Watch out, that mare knows how to use her hooves."
> You hear a weird, sniffing sound from Butch and catch him looking back at you three. Before he hastily turns away you spot a trickle of red down his nose. It really does seem like Sky Light kicked him right in the nose.

> Even though you don't know the details, he probably deserved it. Maybe he'll even act a bit nicer now, but Pepper's use of the word 'again' doesn't fill you with much hope.
> He's not leering at you at the moment, so that's a respite.
> You still don't see Sky Light or Bluegrass. You're guessing the stallion had to go home and the mare probably went to use the toilet or something.
> Hopefully she'll be back soon. Have you got news for her!
> It looks like she'll get her wish to travel. Michigan is east, from what you recall of the map. You try to remember if it's anywhere near New York, but give up.
> Maybe, if Sky Light really does keep her promise to take you there, you'll let her make a detour to see the Statue of Liberty like she said.
> Before you can make any more plans you hear hoofsteps around the building.
> Finally!
> Your mouth is open to tell Sky Light the good news, but then you get a good look at her and the words turn into a gasp.
> The pegasus is a mess! Her mane is totally frazzled and full of leaves and twigs. Her wings are in a complete disarray. She's sweaty and still breathing heavily, as if she had been running through the undergrowth behind the truck stop.
> You're about to ask if she's okay and then see Bluegrass walking behind her. The stallion is also dishevelled, but he's also very, *very* red in the muzzle.
> Velvet beats you to it: "Had fun?"
> Sky Light just snorts in amusement, but Bluegrass whinnies nervously and then clears his throat. "Um... I should- um- I have to go home."
> He doesn't wait for anyone to say goodbye and gallops off as fast as his hooves would carry him.
> You finally find your voice.
"What happened?!"

> The pegasus just gives you a smirk and a very suggestive wink, before sitting on her haunches and extending a wing for examination. She starts cleaning it without really answering.
> Realization hits.
> That's probably why Butch became too pushy and why she had to kick him to keep him away. She had all but told you she was going to do this, why is it such a surprise?
> You're still pink in the muzzle while Sky Light isn't. Even Velvet chuckles at your expression, but luckily doesn't comment. "Did he cry for you, too?" the mare asks Sky Light instead.
> "Mm-hmm," the pegasus nods. "Only for a few seconds. I put his mouth to good use after that."
> These ponies have no shame! You're starting to think you should go back to the van and give Sky Light some privacy until she cleans herself up.
> Speaking of which, you catch her scent. Well, her and Bluegrass'.
> "What?" Sky Light demands, catching your look.
"Nothing!" you squeak and hurriedly avert your gaze.
> "So, what'd you find out?" she asks, opening her other wing and examining it critically.
> That seems like an infinitely safer topic. You smile widely as you remember the news you have for her. Sky Light's indiscretion just vanishes from your mind.
"I found Maribelle!"

> ~~~~

> Now that things came this far, the pegasus is reluctant. She's happy enough about your suggestion to go see New York on the way. You went and looked at the large map of the United States in the bus station before the janitor chased you out.
> It's not that much of a detour and Sky Light's guarded reluctance tells you she'll need all the convincing you can lay your hooves on.
> You've foreseen this, but it's still frustrating.
"You promised," you accuse your friend.

> "Yeah, I did," Sky Light admits, not even trying to evade. "I'm just saying we should think this over. We still don't know what happened to Lillian-"
"Oh, so *now* you suddenly care about what happens to her?!"
> The hoof slap comes out of nowhere and it's not particularly gentle. You stare at the mare in shock while your muzzle smarts.
> "You *don't* say that to me, Rosa!" Sky Light hisses angrily. "I always cared! I worked myself until I damn near fainted while I was out looking for her, remember?"
> You're near tears again, partially from the slap but mostly because you're worried about Lillian.
"B-But you told me to stop looking..."
> "Because it was useless," Sky Light explains, her voice growing softer and her frown changing to concern. "It wasn't doing you any good. She had been missing for four days at the time. I didn't want you to kill yourself looking for her when it was hopeless."
> That word again.
> "Yes, Rosa! Hopeless! A fucking army of police and fire men didn't find her! Damn near everyone in the city was looking out for that little girl!"
"Yes, but they were-"
> The mare doesn't even wait for you to finish. "Looking in the wrong place?" she interrupts. "So you'd have gone into the forest. Do you even know how stupid that is?"
> You just glare at the pony balefully, refusing to answer.
> She does it for you: "No, you don't. Ten minutes and you would have been lost. There's dangerous animals, Rosa. How long before something ate you?"
> Sky Light is exaggerating, you're sure of it, but you don't know enough about the place to call her out on it. You cling to the one certain thing and point an accusing hoof.
"You could have flown above and told me which way to go..."

> "And? Getting lost in the forest and hiding from bears and crap like that would have helped Lillian how exactly?"
> You refuse to meet her glare.
"...might've found her," you mutter.
> "Do you even know what to eat in a forest? Do you know how to survive? Because I sure as hell don't!"
"...would've eaten grass."
> Hooves grab your head and force you to look up. Sky Light isn't mad. She just looks disappointed and sad. "Rosa, there's hardly any grass in the forest. Do you know which bushes are good and which are poisonous? How about mushrooms - can you tell them apart? Or would you eat bark?"
> It's not like you would have stayed in the forest long enough for that to be a problem!
"...wouldn't have starved in a couple of days," you mumble darkly.
> The pegasus leans her head to the side and heaves a very exasperated sigh. "I'm not going to argue about this with you. Why are we even arguing?!"
> You don't repeat your claim that Sky Light doesn't care about the little girl. This isn't the way to get her to come with you. You take a few breaths and let go of your sullen anger.
> It's out of your hooves. Whatever happens to Lillian is not up to you. Maybe it was never up to you.
> That's a hard pill to swallow, but you don't have much of a choice.
"I'm sorry."
> You search your heart for the right words to say to make Sky Light see how much this means to you.
"Please, Sky Light. I have to find Maribelle and I have to know what's happening to me. I need you."
> The direct approach seems to be working out a little better. Sky Light's expression softens and she steps closer so she can put her wings around you.

> "I know sweetheart. I'm just asking you to think it over, okay? You're talking about breaking into some secret government place and trying to get out a pony who may or may not even be there."
"She's there!"
> Your voice is filled with quiet certainty and Sky Light doesn't argue. "It's still a dangerous idea, Rosa."
"You promised."
> Now it's her turn to look down and blush in embarrassment. "Yeah, I did. I never thought we'd actually find anything concrete. Does that make me a liar?"
> Here's your chance! This time you put your hoof on her muzzle and tilt it up so she looks into your gentle smile.
"Not if you come with me."
> The mare grins and pokes her tongue out at you. "Ass. That's so cheesy if you put it on a bun I'd eat it."
> Both of you end up laughing and you feel like you're one step closer. Now you just have to reel her in.
> Maybe a direct assault wouldn't work, so you try to go around Sky's defenses.
"Why did you help me in the first place?"
> "Huh?"
"Back when you found me with those cows. Why did you take me with you?"
> Sky gives it some thought. "I dunno, really. I guess you reminded me of myself when I first started out. I guess I felt sorry for you."
"Do you still feel sorry for me?"
> She shakes her head. "Not... really," she answers thoughtfully. "Now you're just a friend, I guess."
> That warms your heart and your smile widens.
"Okay, so I'm asking you as a friend. Help me find Maribelle. After that I'll go with you anywhere you want and help you mooch. You said I have natural talent!"
> Sky Light chuckles at that and prods your chest with a hoof. "You drive a hard bargain, Rosa," she begins and your legs start trembling. She's going to say yes!
> "Okay," the pony says at last. "Let's do it. What the heck, right? We gotta die of something."

"We're not going to die!"
> The mare gives you a wry smile, as if to say you're too optimistic, but she doesn't correct it. "We'll need supplies. Provisions. A plan. We really have to think this through if we wanna pull it off."
> She looks thoughtful for a moment. "We'll need to get there, first."
> A brilliant idea strikes you.
"Pavo Basilius! The trucker! He said his company delivers there sometimes! I bet he'd take us with his truck!"
> Sky claps her hooves together and laughs. "That's using your brain! Good job, Rosa!" You're about to hug her, but the pegasus' expression darkens. "He'll have left by now," she says.
> Your face falls, but you power through it. Things are going your way. You can wait a little longer.
"He'll be back eventually, right? Let's just wait for him. That way you can say bye to Terry and Taylor and Arda and the gang. We can mooch some more money and make a plan!"
> "Okay, okay," Sky Light says, thoughtfully rubbing her muzzle with a hoof. "I like. Oh, Terry probably won't be back by then."
"Why not? Where did he go?!"
> The pony looks like she really wants to tell you. She even goes as far as to open her mouth, but then she closes it and shakes her head. "Sorry. I promised Terry I wouldn't tell you. Let's just say it's a personal kind of trip he makes every year and it lasts about a month."
> That just raises further questions, but you know better than to pressure the mare.
"Okay, so you can still say bye to all the others, and we can get more money together."
> "Yep," Sky Light agrees with you.
> She gives you a quick hug, then releases you and walks a few steps away. Her wings stretch out and her chest inflates as the mare takes a very deep breath. She holds it for a moment then lets it out.
> "We're going on a road trip!" she says happily.

This much for now. Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/5AxmiVxJ

I'm still pretty beat from last week, but I'll work on getting the next update up for the weekend, I promise!
Good update. Best line: "Did he cry for you, too?"
Going to double-review from the last bit as well because I didn't get to give feedback on that.

>Visiting the store, Taylor, and things
Cute, but didn't get us particularly far. I like the idea that Sky agreed to try and play matchmaker for him after he fell to trying to go with her; it's cute that she still has the heart to try and help out people even when they're openly trying to use her because they think she'd be "easier". Also, the way you write scritchies as affecting ponies is always cute.

>Going to the doctor, Sky is afraid of doctors
D'awww. So even the tough ol' street pony has a weakness!

>Rosa isn't sterilized
I'm glad about this, honestly. It'd have swung right back in to "lol humanz r ebil" territory. Rosa's had enough struggles; some intrinsic issue related to magic is much more powerful than just "oh her people were dicks again." It lets her feel fearful and worried not understanding what's happening with her body - like going through puberty all over again - without reducing anyone to cartoonish levels of evil.

>Another dream again
Goddammit Luna stop trying to distract Rosa!

>Pavo is back, another trip to the truck stop
Why is it that whenever they go to the truck stop, Sky turns into a teasing asshole? I seriously wonder if it's like, peer pressure from the rest of her group there to 'act bad', because it feels like half the time she's humiliating poor Rosa when she already knows Rosa hates it. Not saying it's bad writing, mind you - just surprising that Sky does it every time!

>A new location, dream link
Welp, now they're going to get into real trouble.

yay my dads car just caught fire while traveling at 150kph, burned to ashes in the middle of the highway
30k usd worth stuff turned into dust where the avg salary is around 700 usd a month
>"I can't remember. It is hard."
>There's a full moon. Has that always been there in the dream?
What the hell happened to Luna? Is she trapped in her dreamworld? Is she dead?

>My advice? Keep an eye on which ones have gone to shower
Practical advice. I like how you make this little community come alive with dialogue even though they’re just bit characters. Remember though: Sky gets her first pay; all of it.

>This thing is about twelve miles west of a place called 'White Pigeon'.
It was a long introduction, but it feels like we just made it to the second act. Are we readers abandoning Lillian too? It feels like that character and the tangle of plot she carries with her just got dropped. Hope you have a good outline here!

> You shake your head, but still take his advice. You manage several deep breaths, then - wordlessly - crawl into Pavo's lap and bury your face in his shirt.
Touching moment there. She’s trying so hard, but she needed a vulnerable little break of the sort she might not have risked with Sky.

>Butch doesn’t get lucky today
>Bluegrass does
Inevitable. I know these ponies well enough to have called it, and that means you’re doing something right.

>Why are we even arguing?!
Wondering that myself. Are you trying to show how Rosa is not rational about things, and is bad at manipulating Sky? Pace felt kinda slow here.

>Terry probably won't be back
>it's a personal kind of trip
That’s a weird little mystery, and it felt a bit off. Is Terry going to pop up later somehow?

>next update up for the weekend
This update was already a doorstopper, you’re really pounding it out!
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I feel tempted on a green
should I ?
Do it.
So rosa is a neet and skylight is a thot. This should go over well. I'm assuming sky will pay pavo in pony pussy?
good green,
do want more,
go for it,
That’s cooking right along, even for Saskatchewan!

>30k usd
Where is the speed in kph but the money in usd? Zimbabwe?

>avg salary is around 700 usd a month
That would also fit.

That’s tough. Guessing insurance is not a thing? I know it’s difficult, but look on the bright side: you and your dad did not burn to ashes right along with all your stuff. At the end of the day it’s just stuff, remember how wealthy you still are in the things money can’t buy.

Do it. If it sucks we’ll laugh at you, but there’s no safer space for a beginning writer.
Spamming this slave-related off site story:
It’s worth a look for us here, but does not feature real chattel slavery. It’s kinda SiMish being mostly a vehicle to put Purplesmart into fetish situations. It tries to be mostly upbeat and comfie about it, with this creeping terror in the background...

>"Willing? Hell, I'm *eager* to get started on something!"
>Carl looks at his enthusiastic companion and sighs.
>"I *hate* sitting around with nothing to do," the other man continues. "So I'd love to help out however I can. Carl doesn't have my work ethic, but -"
>"Do you have meat?"
>"Beef, chicken, whatever," Carl explains. "A man can only eat so many beans before he's done with them."
"We've got some chickens. But beef..."
>Should be a little in your freezer.
>You were saving that for a special day.
>"Yeah, I knew that was a pipedream."
"No, no."
>This *is* a special occassion.
"I have a little."
>You do your best not to laugh in his face.
>"Okay, that was a stupid question," Carl smirks. "Chicken is good enough. It'd be shame if we never had anything to cook over this firepit besides our shitty HDRs."
"Now as far as payment..."
>Haggling over the actual price for their help takes less time than you expected - and costs less.
>In a way, it doesn't cost anything at all.
>At least no money.
>Living out here, even for only a few months, you kind of forgot how the rest of the country is dealing with things.
>Particularly when it comes to food.
>*Specifically* with anything perishable.
>You'll have to check with Roma to make sure everything they requested is available - and you make that clear to them - but you've all shaken on the basics of the arrangement in under a minute.
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>Two chickens. Eggs every other day. Fresh bread.
>From the satisfaction on their faces, that's worth more than any amount of money you could have offered them.
>It might be, to them.
>Despite your own financial worries, it's understandable.
>What good is money if it can't buy what you want?
>So many people these days don't have access to what you do.
>Before you moved out here, when was the last time you had cheese? *Real* cheese? Let alone meat?
>Eggs had been absolutely out of the question, unless you wanted them powdered.
>These men aren't starving, but what's quickly become staples to you are more like unattainable luxuries to most of the country.
>And still will be - for a few more years at least.
>Jake and Lauren still haven't come back with that coffee by the time negotiations have wrapped up, so you settle back into your seat and - and get back to business.
"What about the rest of the crew? Anybody else you think would be willing to help out?"
>The two look at each other.
>There's a moment of silent communication before Carl nods.
>"There's a few who could take on various jobs. Some might not have much free time, but they can at least show your ponies what to do."
>"You're thinking of Karl and Ralph?" the other man asks.
>"And Lou," Carl answers. "They're busy at the moment getting their gear set up, but I can bring them up to your construction site later tonight, if that's okay with you. Maybe a few others, too. That'll let us all get a look at what's going on and where you're at."
>You hesitate, but not for long before you find yourself nodding.
>The ponies will just have to be careful not to use magic around the men.
>That was going to come up sooner or later anyway.
"Sounds good. I know this is too much to ask, but any chance one of them is a plumber?"
>The other man shakes his head.
>"Afraid not," he says. "We've only got the one certified plumber, and Shawn absolutely hates ponies. Maybe one of the other guys knows a bit, but Shawn -"
>"He lost one of his hands to a unicorn," Carl interrupts. "And I mean, yeah, I think his attitude's understandable once you know that, so I hope you don't think too bad of him. He's a good guy, otherwise."
>"But most of us have a Purple Heart," the other man smirks. "Some more than one. That's why we're here and not still in the corps. Not fit enough for front line duty, now that things are winding down. But... yeah. Shawn got it bad."
>"He's not the only one with a serious injury like that," Carl continues, "but, I mean... not everyone can just take it all in stride like Jack does. We can talk to him, but you might not want him helping out."
>You nod.
"Jack warned me and... yeah, I agree, that's pretty understandable. A shame, but..."
>You shrug.
"I really need a plumber. None of my ponies know how to do any of that stuff and I'm not sure we can figure it out with just YouTube tutorials. I'd like to avoid calling in someone if I can.
"But at the same time, I don't want to bring in a plumber that's going to cause problems -"
>Carl raises a finger.
"- *assuming* he's even willing."
>He nods.
"So if there's someone else who knows anything, then..."
>"I'll ask around," Carl says, continuing to nod. "If push comes to shove, I'm sure we can figure something out. We're so short on men and equipment that we're helping each other out all the time.
>"I didn't know a single thing about electrical work before this crew got put together, but now..."
>"Damn right," the other man agrees. "I mean, I wouldn't trust you to wire *my* house, not without looking it over, but -"
>"What you mean is you'd trust me to do it, but you'd still check it out before flipping the switch."
>"Basically, yeah."
>"And I've helped Shawn out a bit - just a bit, didn't really learn anything that I didn't already know - but some've the others, like -
>Carl looks around - at what, you're not sure; perhaps not exactly anything at all - and sighs.
>"Jackson, maybe?" the other man suggests. "Or Auden?"
>"Maybe. I was hoping they'd be done unloading their gear, but... I'll ask them later, I suppose."
>The two nod a bit, drifting off into an uncomfortable silence.
"Sounds like you guys've had it pretty hard."
>Carl shrugs.
>"The job's fulfilling, for the most part," the other man says. "It's good to know we're helping people and making a difference; it'd just be nice if we had everything we needed.
>"You know, normally this kind of work -"
>He gestures with an open hand to the bare site.
>"- would require a crane or two. Small ones, but still. And couple of earth movers. Nothing too serious, but still some heavy machinery. Hell, we don't even have a trencher."
>"You mean we haven't been able to get replacement parts for it."
>"What I mean is Carl's been hauling around a broken piece of junk for the past four months, hoping for a miracle. Meanwhile, the rest of us have given up and are using shovels to dig the trenches by hand.
>"For lifting, we've been having to make due with timber frames and pulleys, practically like we're back to dark age technology. At least this time around we're supposed to be getting a digger - not sure exactly *what*, or how old it'll be -"
>"Or if it'll be running," Carl adds.
>"Or that, but it'll probably be one of those newer electric models."
>"True," Carl nods along. "Most of the deisels *were* scrapped for the war effort, so if we're lucky we won't have to worry about fuel."
>"Well, we'll find out in a few days. Whatever we get, it'll be a blessing. Still, it'd be really handy if some of the ponies could use their magic."
>You raise an eyebrow.
>"If you ever saw a plain pony kick a hole straight through a reinforced concrete barricade, you'd know what he means," Carl snorts. "I mean... most can't do as much damage, but *that* particular pony was an absolute terror."
>"You're talking about that one Earth Pony?" the other man asks.
>"Yeah," Carl sighs and turns to you. "She'd just rear up on her front legs and kick out with the back two and BAM. Shit, how many times did we have to build that *one* bridge because of her?"
>"Three times," the other sighs. "And that last time..."
>"Yeah," Carl mutters while the other man crosses himself. "Poor Harold. He wasn't the only man, but still..."
>"God in Heaven, yeah, I mean, I *like* ponies - I didn't join up for revenge, I was already enlisted - and I feel guilty as sin for feeling this way, but hearing that she had been taken down by the 45th was one of the happiest days of my life.
>"It was like... okay, okay, maybe I'll survive this after all."
>Carl nods.
>"I don't know what she had against the engineer corps," he sighs, "but... damn..."
>"Likely smart enough to know that going up against an infantry or armored unit solo like she was would be suicide. Guerrlla warfare means attacking where the enemy is least capable of fighting back.
>"Zebras and the other resistance fighters were already hitting the supply teams so hard command tripled the escorts, so that meant us and the other engineers. She couldn't fight an army, but she could stop them in their tracks by destroying bridges and roads.
>"It was just luck the 45th were hunkered down and waiting for transport when she hit that last time."
>The two men sigh in unison.
>Carl has this haunted look on his face that makes you afraid to ask more.
>Whatever they are, it's not your place to dredge up those memories again.
>The other man shakes his head sadly.
>"It wasn't my first deployment, but -
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>"Before we go back out there, is there anything else that needs to be said?"
>You shake your head.
"No, Jack. I understand well enough what you mean an' you ain't wrong. It's nothin' I wouldn't be doin' on my own, but daddy... he's..."
>Jack grimaces.
"I'll talk to him, okay? An' the hands. That's the best I can promise."
>"And the ponies?"
"I'll... I'll talk to them too."
>He nods.
>"I'm going to be watching closely, you understand? If they don't work out, that's it. No more second chances."
"I understand."
>"Then let's get to it, shall we? We've left the poor things out in the cold long enough," Jack says as he begins to pour the coffee. "Not that they'll complain."
>They're too well trained for that.
>Probably haven't even moved.
>You take the first cup from him, and the second.
>It's a juggle, but eventually you pick up four.
"I'll take these out to them right away, Jack. You bring ours on out in a sec."
>"Works for me."
>You head on out of the 'office' an' - an' at first you don't see your neighbor. Not 'til he stands and waves.
>Don't hear what he says to the men he was sittin' to, but -
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>"- Benny, too," Carl sighs. "I never thought..."
>You wait for him to continue. Silently. Uncomfortably.
>He's the one that brought it up, but it still feels like you're intruding.
>Plenty of people you knew didn't... make it.
>But that's different.
>You didn't serve.
>You didn't *see* it.
"I'm... sorry."
>Carl nods.
"I... um... I better get back to the ponies."
>Carl seems lost in his memories, but his companion stretches out his hand, leaning over the firepit to shake yours.
>"Never did introduce myself, did I? Pedro."
>You snort.
>"Can't fault your manners. I didn't either. My name's -"
>The door to Jack's office slams open and you jump to your feet.
>But everything's fine.
>Just got caught by the wind or something.
>Lauren comes out, her hands full, and she -
>- she looks around.
>Probably for you.
"Sorry, I better go help her. Good meeting you guys, I'm looking forward to seeing you this evening. I'll see if Roma can cook up something special."
>"Sounds good."
"And... thanks."
>"For agreeing to help out with your construction?"
>You shake your head.
"For everything you two've done."
>Pedro hesitates, but then nods slowly.
>"That means a lot."

Remember, the story ends with Applejack showing up alive and well and reuniting with her sister.
>everything ever written on this is canon -ma larson
oh fuck
The speed limit on highways is 130kph, but due to measurement errors, overtaking, etc which are calculated in they don't issue a fine until 152kph. Because of this nearly everyone goes 150kph.
Easier to understand in 4chanland. If I write 9000000 HUF most of the ppl wont understand what the hell is even HUF.
Randomly catching fire was not covered by it.
>Not burning to ash
Yea, but loosing all your income and being left with nothing are not much better. My dad has a one person company installing windows, doors and all that is related to it. Now he cant go from A to B where work is and lost most of his tools, all his documents (id card, drivers license, etc), keys, phone were burned too. Basically he got away with literally empty pockets, not even house keys (my mom and I too live separately from him).
I was not there when it happened. There were 3 fire extinguishers in the car but did not help.
Current situation is like "hey you have enough to live a few months, but not enough to start over".

Btw it was a 2013 Volkswagen transporter T5 pick-up diesel. Knowing him it was not maintained well, but still.... Dont buy vw.
It was the hottest day of the year here in EU, temps reaching 38oC and it claimed its prey.
>ponies dead
I wonder how killing a free pony is punished.
Wow. Dont think that this is the reason. More like the taking away jobs from the ones who cant adapt.
>fucking the guards
She can totally do it. The guards would throw 110% effort into protecting her afterwards.
Does she owns toys? Would make a good scene.
At least nothing tragic happened to a main character. But does this means Blinders Off show is no more?

Thanks for the update!
You always get me choked up over the littlest things. Thanks for the update.
>I can't remember.
Interesting. I think Luna is being held against her will and experimented on. She is just randomly reaches out to Rosa or a few ponies for help. But she knew about the cutie mark thing.
>nice pony blowjob
>earning some extra money
>White Pigeon
I wonder if Rosa told Sky about this nae before it came up.
Rosa sure handles these differently depending on whos near her.
>"Did he cry for you, too?"
What a lucky one. Railing both Sky and Velvet.
>personal kind of trip
I wonder if this is going to be important later on.
>road trip
They are both going to get what they want it seems.

Thanks for the update!
Oh it was Soarin? I was betting it was Rainbow.
Regardless of who the character is the problem is yet another character to juggle but I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out.
Is Soarin just showing up like Firestreak?
Gonna go on his own little quest like Thatch?
Or is he stickin around for a bit?

>>34145381 I read it as rush of the moment as her previous conversations with characters shows she's not really had any relationships or at least not whilst captain.
I must now kill you and steal that
t- filly brother writer
>But does this means Blinders Off show is no more?
It means a new arc is about to begin. We've gone from fillies in a brothel to the entertainment industry to an exploration of race and its consequences (both human and pony) in this slaver world. I guess the next thing we find out is what happens when mare starts dating.
I hope he never updates
Not even for some hawt 47 on Roseluck action?
Don't engage Gilf
Remember, above all else he wants this thread to die
He was never good for porn
I did not expect such a sudden outcome, I could say that it is the end of book 3, great great work here, you combined our world with yours without losing your goal and left us hungry for answers and future stories.

Good work FBHPBO

And now, what's next?
>Wonder how the thread will take it
Better than I expected, honestly.

>So he DID manage to wheedle some drugs out of the team?
Yep. Circumstances around how he did and why Spitfire allowed it were discussed here: >>34110727

>Duplicate line
Damn it. Fixed.

>“GOOD AS” given?!
This is actually a failure of the writing; what I meant to imply there was "Good as given (in writing)" - i.e., that Anon's word is as good as a written contract. But in practice, I see how it comes off as "he's as good as given his word", which is not what I meant.

Funnily enough, "Anon dies, Spitfire gets the pane, hires a new pilot in a scene mirroring the beginning" was one of the potential endings I plotted out for F&S 1.

>I was right that have something going on between them.
Glad you caught that hint, yes!

> Why did he ran away from Spitfire?
Why indeed?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Well, Soarin will be sticking around - but you'll see that soon enough.
> as her previous conversations with characters shows she's not really had any relationships
This does surprise me a little. Spitfire wasn't exactly going on about it, but I'd like to think I did have her suitably hint there were relationships before.
I don't even know who these new characters are. He can't even keep a basic green text going let alone some degenerate smut.
How is smut degenerate? It's delicious when done well. Are one of those purity guys? fuck that.
>that pic.
I am quite jelly. You should get you some good clear coat to protect them. tape off everything you don't want paint on and make the first 2 or 3 coats super SUPER light, letting them dry in between or they could make the marker run.

>That spoiler
We remember. And unless we are being misled I hope things end up ok, though I looks like lauren is in for a bad time either way.

Thanks for another great world building update.
What an asshole.
Considering all his smut is fetish based I'd say it's shit. Every lewd scene in his green involves pee somehow
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Damn this is depressing. Again.
At least some of them don't hate ponies.
>Spoiler part
Ill believe if we get there. Now I assume that after they climb out of the shallow nadir everything will go even more south.

Thanks for the update!
Aside from one borderline incontinent character there have really only been two instances of piss fetish in the story that I can remember. One in Filly Brothel and one in Hippodrome. Hardly qualifies as every lewd scene, though both were pretty vivid.
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Welp, I love when my bedfilly call me daddy. It's very cute
No honey, it's so right.
More than just cute - it's also a major turn on when you good little girl asks to duck her daddy's dick.
She has a speech impediment.
Understandable. It's hard to talk with a mouth full of dick.
Didn't realize blinders was sucking dick already
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>sees completely unrelated post
>sees thread starting to talk about something else
>FORCES blinders back into the conversation
i know hes your favorite part of this thread but youre so obsessed that youre starting to sound like vogelfag
pic related, the two of you hanging out on a tuesday afternoon
This. I like Blinders, I like talking about Blinders, but I like talking about other things too. Gilfposting should be a “page nine only” sort of thing, like the guinea pigs.
Dubs of truth. You got three updates out of me ITT already, comprising the end of an arc. I got all the attention I needed from that. Shine the spotlight on someone else now.
Here to ask if anyone wants a Landscape Appul in heat spinoff story
yes but only after the cuts have healed
appul has had enough pain already
yes but only if it stays true to the original characters. The story had specific reasons that didn’t happen yet. Your spinoff should address those reasons and do a through job of explaining why they no longer apply. Just naming one character “Landscape Appul”, the other “Landscape Anon”, and having them go at it hammer and tongs would be off-putting.

I’m not some prude that doesn’t like clop, I do like it and I like Landscape, but the clop must serve the story instead of the reverse!
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vega when
Mind telling me what in particular got to you with this update?

>clear coat
Already done, though I should have been more conservative with the tape. Barely shows i the pic, but in person the cutoff is super-noticeable, probably because I used a matte varnish. Should have used a satin or semi-gloss, but I've never had great luck with varnishes and went with one I trusted.
Gonna have to give it another coat with the tape only covering the rubber/cloth to give it a nice, uniform look.
Also need to get Shannon Chan-Kent's signature to round things out. Saved her a nice spot in the center.

Darn, this isn't really supposed to be too depressing. I mean, kinda, but mostly more bittersweet but even more just worldbuildy to remind people that this is set in a world that nearly went post-apocalyptic except for the good folks who did their best to stop things from falling that far.
I suppose I should try to work in some more of that here and there, the stories of the humans and ponies that tried to keep everything together like Apple Bloom and Dr. Alda.
And we'll have a happy ending, I swear on my new Apple Bloom plush.
She's so cuddly.
Yes but please keep characters true
Dear Lurker, please explain the love/hate relationship your characters named Cog have had with bat pony ass.
>your characters named Cog
Did his other stories have a character named that? Can’t think of one in Slaveventure...
You know what's funny? I had completely forgotten about Copper Cog when I started writing this. Your comment the first I've thought of him in... hell, probably years now. But they are in some ways pretty similar, aren't they? Unicorns, gigantic cunts, have a love/hate thing with bats... even their colors are somewhat similar (I had to go back and check that. That's how long it's been - I don't even remember what Copper Cog looked like anymore). Chalk it up to sheer chance or subconscious influence, I don't know which.

Random side, Cog Whirl was originally named Spindle - or Spindle Head, or Spindle Shaft, as in a part of a machine - but I was looking for a name that was less unusual, and the sense of "whirling gears" fitted better with the "empathic sense of machines" that I was giving Cog Whirl. So, he almost dodged the curse of the Cogs - but then got dragged back.

That's good TTGAME, very good
She's a surprisingly content slave.
Fucking. DO IT.
>Mind telling me what in particular got to you with this update?
I'm a sap and anon reminiscing about how he don't have it so bad made me think how much worse Roma and all the rest use to have it, and how bad it must be for those not near farms.
Still waiting for that clear skies update
Still waiting a very lewd bedfilly green
Always off-screen. Only really satisfied filly having aftersex snuggles with master allowed
see >>34132803
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1, 2, 3, 4 - burn this thread, burn this thread!
>36 posts left
Nah, it’s good for another 26 or so. Unless you’ve got a big wad of green waiting to go?
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>Anon having to punish his pretty little firebird when?
Honey berry when???
Here's something filly:

>Be Lightning
>She broke up with you
>Skydancer broke up with you!
>There was nothing you could do but sit there dumbfounded as she gave some little speech about the cycle of abuse
>And a bunch of other nonsense that didn't make any sense
>You hugged her and begged her not to leave you through tears
>She cried too, but refused to change her mind
>It's so unfair!
>That you could have something so wonderful together, then one pony can just end it regardless of how the other feels
>And the feeling you're left with is a new one for you
>Sadness and loss you've experienced before
>And you feel a lot of both right now
>But rejection is new for you, and it aches just as much as the other two, if not more
>Of course there aren't really any secrets in the dorm, so you've gone scandalous to sympathetic in the eyes of the other girls
>In an instant
>You went from having something spoecial - being somepony special - to being heartbroken
>And the worst part is you know you didn't do anything to deserve it
>Even Madam agreed with that when she sat you down for a talk in her office
>She said Sky had developed qualms with the nature of your relationship - specifically being the marefriend of a filly
>You asked if it was a sex thing and Madam said that was part of it, yes
>Which made it sound like the mare had gone insane!
>Or you weren't good enough, maybe that was it?
>You know men pay a lot of money to sex you - you can't be that bad!
>It is different with a mare though
>A mare, whom you actually LIKED - LOVED even!
>You saked Madam if it was because she was getting you for free, but Madam said that wasn't it
>She said Sky didn't think it was ethically right to be with you
>And you don't know what to make of that
>What changed?
>You don't know
>You just know you miss her and you will never see her again
>You will never smell her again or feel her warmth against you
>You will never taste her again...
>That wasn't the most important part of your relationship, but it was definitely a part of it
>You were proud of being able to get her off as fast or even faster than you could make a man cum
>And she gave you more pleasure than any man ever has
>If that was OK then why is it suddenly not OK now?
>You don't think you're going to figure that out any time soon, if ever at all
>Now it just hurts
>It doesn't help knowing your room is her old one
>You used to love that
>Now it just reminds you of her
>Lying on your bed - did the bed used to be hers as well? - you don't want to know
>You've been crying and feeling sorry for yourself all morning
>Madam came by to check on you and told you not to worry about your chores today
>Of course you'll still have to work later - no way around that - but the break from your chores is welcome
>Even if you're spending your time sobbing
>"Knock knock," a small voice comes from the other side of your door
"Come in, Violet"
>"You OK?"
"I hurt in a way I didn't know I COULD hurt"
>"Poor thing. I brought you something since you missed breakfast"
>A muffin?!
"Where did you get a muffin?"
>"I have my ways," she replies, passing the treat to you. "Sorry there's a bite out of it. My willpower failed me"
>You laugh
>It feels good to laugh for a second
"It's still very kind of you"
>"You would do the same for me"
>Is she right?
>If you knew she was miserable?
>Yeah, you'd try to do something
>Or you like to think you would
>"Can I ask what happened?"
"She dumped me. For no reason"
>"For no reason? What's wrong with her?"
"I can't figure it out"
>"That's so cold. I didn't think ponies could be cold like that. Not mares at least"
"It was a surprise to me as well"
>She looks down at her hooves, then back up to meet your eyes
>"You know," she begins sheepishly, "I.. um... was always jealous of you and her"
"I bet you aren't jealous of me now"
>"No... not at all," she says gently, giving you a quick nuzzle. "But I used to... imagine you two together and, um... what you did together"
>Is she doing what you think she's doing?
>A quick, uncertain lick comes as an answer
>You appreciate her interest, but her timing is really terrible
>"I'm not stupid," she says, "I know I can't take her place. That's not what I'm trying to do"
"It looks like you're trying to hit on me"
>"Is that OK? Is this too awkward? I've never done this before. I'm sorry, I..."
>What do you do here?
>Besides blush furiously, which both of you are doing
>Your emotions are now like a thick soup of things that shouldn't go together
>You shouldn't feel elated and abandonned at the same time
>Sad and excited - it's too much!
"I um... You don't have anything to be sorry for I'm just... overwhelmed"
>"Oh. So you're not mad at me?"
"You brought me most of a muffin and are trying to comfort me. How can I be angry"
>Can comforting somepony and hitting on them be the same thing sometimes?
>"Friends are allowed to confort each other, right?"
>Sure it can
>You think about the kind of comfort she's offering
>You're pretty sure she doesn't even know the actual mechanics of it - you know, IT
>You'll have to be the teacher, like Sky was with you
>Not that there's all that much for her to learn
"Can we stay friends and still... comfort each other?"
>She smiles at you - it's a little bit of a nervous smile, but cute anways
>She is really cute
>Not sexy like Sky, but really, really cute
>And really, really in your room with you right now making an offer she doesn't even completely understand
"Would you be OK with taking this very slowly? You know I'm pretty freshly dumped, and nowhere near over it"
>"Maybe I can help you get over it"
>If not it would at least be a distraction from it
>A welcome distraction?
>Not an unwelcome distraction, that's for sure
>You tap a hoof on your bed next to you
"Get in here"
>She's beside you in a flash giving you a sloppy but enthusiastic kiss, which you return
>This is happening?
>This is happening
>Pulling away from the kiss you say:
"Your willpower isn't failing you now, I see"
>"I'm really nervous, actually"
"Don't be. I don't bite," you reply, then add, "Unless you want me to..."
>"I don't know what I, actually..."
"We can find out together"
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Poor Lightning, she was the real victim of the moralist.
Congratufuckinglation Skydancer. You created a new Skydancer or maybe two if we count Violet, but this time without the BDSM fetish. At least both can be a great replacement for madam in the future
Violet's being another Skydancer is as much on her situation as it is on Sky or Lightning. She's the one making the move here, regardless of the fact that she shouldn't be in the position to.

That said I feel awful for Lightning.
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You know, we used to play cat-and-mouse, Crazy Mouse and I.
But he is gone, now…
I hope you are ready to pay the consequences.
After all, he protected you from what, again?
>It's white.
>In fact, everywhere you look, it is white.
>The walls are white.
>The ceiling is white.
>The floor is white.
>Except for the objects' outline, which is dark.
>There is furniture in the room, nice furniture.
>Including a coffee table, underneath a bowl of fruit, just in front of you.
>Intrigued, you move toward and rummage through it for a bit.
>Most of the things you find are just empty noodle cups and insta-meal, but you, eventually, manage to find a white lemon, which you grab with your black hand.
>You decide to taste it, and as you expect, it tastes of white.
>Yet, your shadow feels that something is wrong.
>Very, very wrong.
>It's in the control that is leaving your fingertips, like a rope.
>You know why it feels wrong, though, now that you think about it.
>It is because…
>It, will find you.
>And you know it.
>Terror overwhelms you, but not in a way you aren't already used to.
>Feeling brave, you move out of the room and end up in front of a door, at the end of a white corridor.
>The wall on the opposite end is harlequin green while the door itself is electric violet; a grey mouse wearing a straight-jacket sculpted in it.
>It, is behind it.
>Lying in wait for the door to be opened.
>The mouse winks, squeaks and when you blink, it is gone.
>But “it” is already looking at you through the judas hole.
I just want to play a little… how about, hide and seek?
>You do not want to play this game, and you do not want to play with it.
>In fact, you do not want it to find you, at all!
That's the spirit!
>You don't want to, but it will not let you have a choice in the matter.
>The only thing you can do…
>Is to open the dreaming door and face it.
>Alas, it opens it for you, before you even had the chance to steel yourself.
>The white and looooooong hallway in front of you is empty, except for the white door at the end of it.
>You never were in control, to begin with.
> “Come on, run,” whispers Crazy Mouse to your ears, before shoving you in the back, making you tumble through the door.
>It is too late for you to try and run away now.
>Because, if it is not in front of you…
>Then it is behind you.
>You run, and you run, splashing your dark colour beneath every one of your steps.
>Every step hurt.
>And yet, contrary to your belief, the corridor doesn't stretch, nor are you moving extremely slowly.
>In no time at all, you reach the door, and push it open.
>You hear the voice of a woman behind you, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you!?”
>Many, many things…
>You keep running through the new, white corridor in front of you.
>Exhausted, you feel your throat swelling and the taste of iron whenever you exhale.
>How many doors have you opened?
>How long have you been running?
>You don't know…
>For the Nth time you open a door, but this time, you brake, for rows of black desks are now blocking your path.
>Everything is black in here, except for the white outlines.
>The white shades surrounding a desk.
>And the red knife with a white cross drawn upon it.
Would you like to play the knife game instead?
>You don't want to play the knife game.
>You don't want it to find you either, so you start stacking up the desks in front of the hallway door.
You never knew how to play by the rules. That is why no one wants to play with you. I mean, it's called hide and seek, not run and seek.
>You already know the scene; you don't need to look twice.
>One of the shades is sitting on the chair.
>In front of the red knife.
>The shade slowly darkens, and begins to squeak.
>He squeaks, lots and lots of times.
>And the black shade became strong that day.
>The dark shade runs through the classroom door, and you follow it.
>More white hallways.
> “Run, Anonymous, run.”
>The only silver of hope to avoid the Damocles sword behind you is to run away.
>And there is only one way to run.
>Even if each step feels like you are running on a machine.
>A hybrid between a treadmill.
>And a grater.
>At long last, the hallway turns.
>A dead end.
>There are 2 ingots and a mouse plush leaning against the opposite wall.
>The dark shade walks forward and takes the mouse plush.
>You walk forward and grab the electric violet and harlequin ingot.
Maybe you run because you're not good at hiding? Anyway, this little game is about to end.
>Startled, you turn around and walk back until you lean against the wall.
>But there is no one in front of you.
>Where, where is it?
>The shade walks in front of you, faces you.
>And stabs you in the chest with his right hand.
Finally caught up to you… now you're it.
>It's pouring itself inside you, in waves of piercing needles.
>Each wave drains its feet of darkness, shoving it inside of you like a taxidermist stuffs its creation.
Looks like I have won; now you're it.
>It is painful.
>You have run so far, but in the end, nothing you've done actually matters.
> “Smite!”
>It is true that you are feeling bad right now.
>And… And you do have your ingots.
>It just might be a golden opportunity to smite.
>After all, if you are it, and you are also you, then…
>What “is” the shade in front of you?
>You pull your arms behind you and clap your ingots together.
>Jolting up, panicking, you throw the blankets off you and clamber out of bed.
>The forge, yes, you need to smite right now.
>You need to smite.
>Because of your haste, you put your hand on the bed, except, the bed ended a few centimetres shorter than you thought.
>After falling face-first on the floor, you let gravity pull you out of bed and roll forward.
>And end up hitting the wall with your heels.
>“W-what!? A-Anon, is that you?”
>In order to get out of your awkward position, you roll sideways toward the door.
>Once you feel the cold and dirty ground under your feet, and not just the peculiar tingling that runs through your nose, you rush toward the pile of clothes and try to make head or tail out of what you grab.
>Okay, shirt.
>That's a shirt.
>Then, and then pants.
>And socks-no, no socks, shoes, you don't need socks.
>Is that pants?
>No, that's a shirt.
>So fucking dark.
>Need light.
>As if to answer your demand, a faint white light brightens the room.
>Thanks to it, you manage to find a pair of pants.
>And… you stop.
>You jerk your head to your left, and see Rarity, wearing a face of concern, her left leg pressed against her body.
>Her horn emitting light.
>Jumping, you stifle a sharp breath and walk backward, until your back hits the wall, clutching desperately at the clothes against your chest.
>“It is the middle of the night, and I had just, just been able to fall asleep; your snoring is simply un-bear-able…!”
>Your heart pummels against your ears, your throat feels constricted, your mouth is dry; your breathing, unsteady.
>“What has gotten into you?!”
>You, you know it's Rarity that's in front of you.
>You fucking know it's just Rarity.
>And yet…
>She closes her eyes, frowns… takes a deep breath, lets go of it, and opens her eyes, “Could you, at the very least, turn on the night?”
>“Yes, the night… I mean, the light.”
>Sniffling, you free your right hand of clothes and flip the switch.
>But, nothing happens.
>“A power outage, perfect… do you have candles that we could light up?”
“No… Got forge, though.”
>“The forge, right.”
>Yes, the forge.
“I, I need to smite.”
>You sit on the now clothe-less chair and put on your shirt.
>Rarity yawns, “You need to forge, in the middle of the night, really? can't it wait for tomorrow?”
>You also need to take a piss, now that you think about it.
>That, and trying to put on a pair of pants is… rather uncomfortable.
>“Well… if you absolutely need to forge something to calm down, then I suppose I shouldn't try to go back to sleep.”
>Ah, right, smiting is loud.
>Feeling bad for having woken her up, and because you will, also, keep her awake, you say nothing, and put on your shoes.
>“Would you like to talk about it?”
>“No, not smithing… you know, the nightmare.”
>You freeze.
>Your chest doesn't hurt, but, you still remember, very clearly, the dread you felt.
>The right hand, and…
>Your powerlessness.
“No, no, I don't need to, I need to smite.”
>“Alright, if that is what you truly want…”
>Nodding, you get out of the room, and toward your forge.
>No, wait, first, Mother's blade.
>Turning around, you walk toward the bed and pull the blade out.
>It is surprisingly very warm to the touch.
>That's weird.
>Your hands aren't cold.
>Shrugging it off, you walk out of the room and head toward the forge.
>You have barely opened the backdoor that you stop.
>There is something in your forge that pulsates two colours.
>Light blue.
>And bright pink.
>You grip the blade tightly and proceed with caution.
>As you approach, the pink light diminishes, but the blue one keeps growing and fading every few seconds.
>Do not.
>Like that.
>Not one bit.
>No one goes in your forge, except Carl.
>No one!
>It is YOUR forge.
>It seems like the lights are coming from under your workshop.
>Thus, you circle around your forge to take a look.
>Apparently, your broken smiting ingots are the ones emitting light.
>That's weird.
>A quick look around reveals that no one is nearby.
>And that's good.
>That means no one came to your forge.
>Except Rarity, because she broke them.
>According to her.
>But, that can't be right.
>No matter how hard you struck them, they never broke or chipped, it's impossible that she actually broke them.
>Most likely, she snooped around and something made them break, and she blamed herself because of that.
>They're glowing.
>Intrigued, you walk on the hard stone and gather them on the workshop.
>They're cold like you would expect them to be.
>They're glowing.
>It's the first time you've seen metal glowing.
>These ingots are, indeed, unique.
>In any case, you need to smite, so you take the meanpaper, crumple it, and start your coke forge.
>And the fan.
>Now that your ingots are broken, you'll have to rely on wood and nails.
>When you think about it, lighting the forge, even though you won't smite metal was kind of dumb.
>But at least, you're not cold, so…
>Didn't go to waste.
>And, and when you're done calming down, you'll have to put everything back.
>Everything you threw, that is.
>It's been a while since you've started to put things back in your forge.
>The night isn't so young anymore, but it still had plenty of youth to spare.
>The light blue light kept diminishing, but it never went away, curiously.
>You're done replacing your tools, now you just have to put the blades and other materials back…
>There is just no way you'll be done combing the grass for all the little piec-
>Out of the blue, the pink light comes back with zeal.
>Intrigued, you grab the pieces with your left hand.
>They are really hot, but you cannot help but feel… calm, and serene.
>“Oh no you don't!”
>The sound of a beer bottle being smashed on someone's head comes to your ears.
>And the pink light disappears.
>Along with the wholesome feeling.
>What… just happened?
>The voice and sound came from behind the forge, on the other side of the fence.
>Intrigued, you go take a look.
>You see another unicorn, but a blueberry blue one, unconscious.
>And a legless, old and dirty man gathering the broken pieces of beer bottle in his mouth.
>When your gazes meet, he slowly retreats onto his skateboard, and pushes himself away into the darkness.
>Now, you know the man, he's called Old Joe, but some just call him Strange Joe or Mad Joe.
>He is homeless, legless, drunk most of the time, and likes to eat pieces of glass.
>He also likes to lurk around your house, since no one wants to approach you.
>It is, effectively, a safe place where he can be left alone.
>Some people even joke about how Two-Face Anon has a guard dog named Joe, because, just like you, he doesn't like it when people wander around his “home”, and because…
>Well, Mad Joe.
>What really intrigues you though, is the other cartoony cartoon horse.
>It mustn't be a stray one though.
>After all, she smells nice.
>And has a collar.
>Well, she does have shards of glass in her hair, and blood slowly flows down her scalp, but considering the time between the actual blow and for blood to appear, it shouldn't be that bad.
>Well, no.
>It is bad, actually.
>A girl, unconscious on the street, in the middle of the night.
>That's bad.
>Maybe you should take her home.
>Until she wakes up, that is.
>You already have enough problems as it is.
>And one complex girl.
>Yeah, no… Two girls are too many problems.
>Sighing, you put the pieces of ingot in your pants, and…
>Wonder how the hell you are going to lift a Pony over a fence.
>Cars pass by and brighten your lawn with their light.
>You wouldn't have paid them any attention, if those lights weren't followed by doors closing behind you.
>Oh fuck.
>Reacting on instinct, you run through the forge, stop, go back, grab Mother's blade in your right hand, and rush toward the back door once more.
>You open it and run toward the kitchen.
>There's no one inside, great!
>That means they're still in front of the door.
>You put the blade on the table.
>And grab your shotgun.
>That's bad.
>Really bad.
>There are cars in your front yard.
>Which means people.
>At night.
>You hear two small thuds to your right and move the gun toward it.
>There is a white spot on the couch.
>Had your finger been pressed against the trigger, you would have shot Rarity.
>Her front hooves are on the ground.
>She must have been in your blind spot all along.
>Doesn't matter.
>You take several steps back and aim at the door.
>Your hands are shaking, and your heart beats in your chest.
>But you keep your breath silent.
>And put your right index in front of your lips, hoping that she'll get the hint and keep quiet.
>The door handle turns, and you shoot toward the ceiling.
>Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear Italian or Spanish cursing.
>Dust falls in front of you as you crouch and aim at the door.
>“Yes, sir?”
>“Can you pull him out for me?”
>“I… I am afraid my magic isn't strong enough.”
>“Why are you always making a fool out of me, Alex? You told me you could help with your magic but every time I ask you, an excuse comes out of your mouth.”
>“No offence, and I do not mean to disrespect you, but if you were to stop using one of your legs for months, and you were told to climb a row of stairs, would you be able to do it like you used to? You would probably require weeks of therapy and exercises, and that is, roughly, the same with magic.”
>“Do not pull my leg, Alex. You were born with magic, you are made to use magic, and look at what I can do with only one month of training.”
>The shards in your pocket grow yellow, a cloak of yellow surrounds you, and you are violently pulled toward the front door.
>So unexpected was the mysterious force that you reflexively put your hands in front of you to reduce the inevitable impact.
>Naturally you've let go of the gun, but the acceleration was such, it remained stuck between you and the door.
>Rarity shouts, “Anon!”
>You are scared.
>Terrified, even.
>You have never, ever, experienced something like that before.
>The force is so strong that, despite being in a position to do a horizontal push-up, you can only, barely, push yourself away from the door.
>Then the force reverses and pushes you away, where you ram into the table with your legs and flip backward, striking the fridge with your shoulder blades and nape.
>Before you even have the time to shout in pain, you are dragged back, but this time, you pass under the table, protecting your head with your arms as much as you can, before ramming on the door once more.
>This time, the hinges break; you are ejected out of your house and onto the grass.

>It hurts, a lot.
>And you do not understand what just happened.
>Or why.
>Or how.
>“I'm going in,” says a voice you do not recognize, shortly followed by footsteps moving away.
>Slowly, but surely, you proceed enough of the situation to realize that you are in deep shit.
>Especially since you are held against the ground by… something.
>“No, no get away from me you monsters, no, NOOOOOOOO!”
>Driven by instinct, you use every ounce of strength you have to get up.
>One of the man scream, shortly followed by the sound of a slap and a pained neigh.
>“Told you she likes to bite.”
>“Gah, f-fuck…”
>With great effort, you manage to move your arms into a push-up position.
>Rarity lets out a glass-shattering shriek, which only fuels your determination to get up and go save her.
>The man in front of you shouts, “Hey, what is that scream all about?”
>“I don't know, I pulled her by a leg and-”
>Your left thigh is warming up, and, curiously, you seem to have an easier time moving it than the right one.
>But, you need to catch your breath and stop resisting for a while.
>You are going to tear yourself a muscle or something by constantly pushing.
>“Careful man, the boss won't like it if you're too rough.”
>“I wasn't. I just tugged her so she would get her ass off the couch.”
>She continues her rant, “And guess what, you simpletons, I am not just wounded on one leg, but on three! Good luck trying to bring me back!”
>“Bitch, please! Alex'll lift you, if she can.”
>With another effort, you manage to kneel with your left thigh, and look in front of you.
>There are two legs, two feet, and tires. That is the only thing you see before the pressure on your chin threatens to dislocate your jaw.
>Thus, you turn your head to the right, and feel an increasing amount of pain in your neck.
>You rest, for the second time.
>Your thigh is so hot that it hurts, a bit.
>The sound and vibrations of hooves walking away hint you that a horse just moved.
>“Teaspoon, stop! put me down!”
>“Sorry, can't do, and stop calling me by that name, it gets me in trouble.”
>“But that is your name!”
>“A name is just a name, they'd call me 29 and I still wouldn't care.”
>“You… How can you?! you, you TRAITOOOR!”
>“Traitor… c'mon Rarity, you're implying I took a side, your side, to begin with.”
>The hooves, and footsteps, draw near; Rarity grunts in anger.
>You failed to protect her.
>Even though you can hear her yelling, probably for help, you cannot decipher the sound through the ringing in your ears; whether or not it she did it on purpose, she became someone important to you, and you failed to notice this flag.
>She is your everything right now, and you are about to lose her.
>Your powerlessness, this time, is so infuriating…
>There are bullies, on your lawn, kidnapping her right under your nose.
>This time, there is no Crazy Mouse to give the rein to.