>>17514 >Your ears pin back as he gestures a hand at you. >"Why the hell is a pony scrounging for scraps? In the rain no less!" "...Because I forgot to eat yesterday?" >He crosses his arms. "Really now, there’s no need to avoid the question." "I'm not... There's nothing to avoid! That's the truth." >God, why is he being so antagonistic all of a sudden... >'But it's... not the *whole* truth, Meadow.' "There's nothing left to say." >'You know that's not true! Please, just...' >You shake your head slowly. "no." >"I- Look, I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but it's not hard to see that you're-" >The debilitating combination of being cold, wet, and scared wanes just enough for your underlying frustration to surface and you take a step forward and cut him off. "I answered your stupid question! I don't want to- I'm not going to talk about that! I'm not! I- I don't wanna..." >You trail off, your face on fire despite the weather. >'Meadow... Maybe we should really-' "NO!" >'B-but... Okay...' >As Medley's voice falters, your ears flatten. "M-meh-medl... N-no no I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..." >You mumble apologies for a while, trying to keep your composure. >...But before you can completely stabilize your emotions, you find the man approaching you. >You desperately want to push him aside and find somewhere to hide, but just like before, your legs simply won't budge. >He stops about a foot or so away and... kneels. >"Are you alright?" "P-please just… go away..." >He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Nah, I'm gonna take a seat riiight... here." With that, he sits down, his back against the dirty dumpster. >You'd hit him on purpose if you could muster the strength. >He looks up at you with a small smile. “How about you rest up too? It might help clear your head a bit…” >You continue to stare at him, your soaked coat barely registering anymore as shame heats your lousy body. >Seeing no other option, you listlessly shamble over and unceremoniously plop down next to him, too drained to care anymore. >You lower your head and find yourself staring at the wet concrete in front of you. >Tonight was supposed to be easy. >A light jaunt to the one place that reliably had passable food. >But here you are, sitting around in some back alley with a random stranger in the rain. >Drenched, starving, and an utter mess of a pony that just yelled at her only friend for trying to help her. >You ball yourself up and take a deep breath. "Why are you still here?" >"You seemed like you needed some company." >You glance over at him. "You only care because I'm a pony." >You lift a hoof and feebly press it against his shoulder. "If I were some smelly hobo you'd probably call the cops or smack me with a broom." >"Who's to say you *aren't* a smelly hobo?" >Feeling rather conscious of yourself all of a sudden, you turn your swiftly reddening face away from him. "I-It's raining!" >"So?" "Rain... helps." >"I think it might be the dumpster diving that's doing you in here." "N-not like I have a choice... It's that or begging. Begging is-" >"Too easy? I imagine a sad looking pony can melt just about anyone's heart." "I don't want to be pitied." >"Nobody does."

>>17484 >a new update to Midnight and I'm a week late getting to it But I am very happy to see it. Even if it took me a while to get to it. Progress as ever on the project car. I wonder what they're gonna do when they get it finished? They'll need some sort of project to keep them busy. Curious as well to see how the car show goes. Thanks for the update. >>17511 Is that a boot with a tulpa? Or is Meadly more of a sock to Meadow's boot? But very interesting start. Like to see where it goes.

>This still feels utterly humiliating. >And it has been miserable to get used to. >The weight. >The sensations. >The movements. >Maybe the eyes were the worst experiment in terms of... well, potentially being left permanently blind. >But these wings. >These stupid fucking wings that were decided would be the next exciting experiment... >You fucking hate them. >As usual, you were never asked. >You weren't told about what was to come. >You just fell asleep one night... >...and apparently one day later, you woke up with a new set of limbs. >These damn people couldn't even be bothered to create a new set of wings – oh no, that would have been too good for you. >No, you got some pulled from the garbage, dyed to a 'good enough' color... >Slapped em on you. >These last... possibly several weeks – that's what it feels like anyway – have been awful trying to figure them out. >Up until the last few days, it just felt like they had a mind of their own. >Twitching. >Flaring out at random. >Waking you up in the middle of sleep. >And while they don't feel hefty by any means, you've still had to adjust to their presence now forever tied to your back. >Your back has been aching, both from the surgery and getting used to them. >It's finally starting to feel better. >You've gotten an understanding of how to control the limbs – muscles tied to electronics, wires, actuators... >It's disgusting to think about. >You're disgusting. >A bona-fide fucking freak. >But it wasn't your choice... >You don't ever get one. >The point of all of this? >Probably flight. >You want to say torture, but... >Maybe that's part of it. >The project manager wants to be rid of you. >You've overheard him multiple times – and he's said it to your face. >Apparently the higher-ups think he's doing amazing work – and don't want him to move up from the project. >After all, who could match his work, his successful experiments? >By the sounds of it, you were his meal ticket to move up in the company. >Maybe he still will – but not while you're still breathing and offering a canvas to create a perverted painting. >At this point, why doesn't he just kill you? >Wouldn't that be easier? >You don't know. >It would be easier for you. >Probably better off... >This is your life. >That's all there is. >Waking up in a glass room, tests, procedures, pain, recovery, tests, training. >Is this worth it? >You don't... >You don't want this. >You want... >Something. >Something else. >Death isn't it. >Footsteps approach down the hall – you hear them well before seeing the culprits behind them. >You sure it's head jackass. >You forgot his name. >You've forced it from your mind at this point. >He doesn't deserve to be remembered by you. >You remember his assistant though... >Johnson. >He's participating in all of this... >But he doesn't seem to enjoy it. >Yet, on it goes. >Yep, there's bald 'n stocky. >And his mop-headed assistant.

>>17517 >"And how are we getting around today?" dickhead asks as he steps up to the door of my room. "Fucking lovely as always. What do you want?" >"How's the wing movement coming along?" "I got em folded away neatly, what do you think?" >"I'm not looking for attitude, I'm looking for results," he replies, putting his hands on his hips. >Johnson is scrawling down a few things on a clipboard, occasionally glancing at you. >He looks uneasy as usual. >You don't know if it's the callous tones of the discussion today or what. >Really doesn't matter. >"Open your wings." >Ugh. >Whatever, the sooner you do what he asks, the quicker he will fuck off. >You give it a brief thought, sort of having to remind yourself how they folded closed... >They snap open wide, just barely fitting within the confines of your room width-wise. >"Any pain moving them like that?" Johnson speaks up. >"Worry about that after we see what she can do, Johnson," Baldy grumbles before turning his attention back to you. "Closed." "You've already seen them closed." >"Why do you want to argue?" "My personal entertainment. And giving you a taste of what I go through." >"Right, poor you. Living in your own home, given the best medicine and treatment—" "Which I wouldn't need if you left me the fuck alone." >"Just close your goddamn wings so we can move on." >You do so, but make sure to sneer at him in disdain." >"Good. Have you tried flapping them at all?" "Yeah, been overjoyed to have em so much and looking forward to my first flight," you Sass. >"Is that a no, or you can't?" >Bullshit you can't >You've been able to complete everything he's ever asked. >You fucking hate him for it, because you know he wants you to fail. >He wants a terminal failure. >But you don't fail at all. >You won't give him that satisfaction. >Unfurling your wings again, you give a few short pulses of them up and down. >The motion sends a twinge of pain through your sides on the first occasion. >But you grit your teeth and bear it. >Fuck him. >You want to make him stuck here longer. >"Hm, actually looks pretty close to how we engineered the bots," Baldy comments. >"She's a quick learner, huh?" Johnson suggests. >"I'm sure it has more to do with the programs stuck in her head. Probably has some memory of how they work without realizing it. Just took some time to reconnect the dots." "Fuck you. Maybe I'm just determined to succeed to piss you off." >"Piss me off by making me look good? Think you got some wired crossed there, princess." >He laughs off your suggestion, uses that godawful name... >But you see it. >He knows what you meant. >You can see his hand clench into a fist, the way he narrows his eyes. >Two can play at this stupid game. >You are not a failure. >You're going to keep succeeding, just to extend his misery. >Misery loves company. >You fold away your wings again, feeling an ache where they join into your body.

>>17518 >That's the first time you've ever tried flapping them with any sort of drive or speed – and your body is letting you know it. >You need to start working with them more – but when no one is here. >You want to make progress... >Slow, agonizing progress. >You want to keep dragging this on for him. >You don't know if you can fly... >You don't have a desire to. >You hate these fucking things. >But you'll do it. >You will fly. >Learn it little by little. >Just to succeed. >And keep him here. >"Do you have any pain at all?" >Johnson speaking up breaks you out of your simmering anger. "Nothing I can't deal with. Doesn't matter anyway." >"Where is the p—" "Don't worry about it – I'm not a bitch," you sass, turning and heading back to your bed at the far end of your room before flopping down. "It's fine. I can tolerate it." >"That's why I don't bother with niceties anymore Johnson. It's not gonna get you anywhere with her," dickhead murmurs to his assistant. >It's still plenty clear for you to hear. >You doubt he was trying to keep it quiet meaningfully. "You never tried being nice, you lying cocksucker." >"Language." "You mean the language I got from you?" >"I think you need some time to yourself until you can drop the fucking attitude," he growls, pointing at you before turning on his heels. "Johnson, come on – we'll get back to her in a bit." >Johnson looks upon you with a look of pity, but nevertheless needs his boss's call and follows. >You don't need his pity. >It's pathetic. >You're fine, you can handle yourself. >...you're just sick of this shit. >But what else is there? >It's not like you're gonna be able to just throw open this door and walk out of here to... >... >You don't know what's out beyond this building. >Trees, mountains, other buildings – the outside. >It's a vague concept you understand. >But you don't know anything about it. >Not really. >Hell, even if you could get out of here, what would you do? >Other than – well, not be a guinea pig...? >That already sounds better than this. >You're smart enough, you could probably figure it out. >You have overheard numerous times from past assistants comments about how quickly you learn and adapt to situations. >Maybe... >Maybe it's time to start thinking of something beyond this. >Doing yourself a favor instead of dealing with this endless pit of hopelessness you sit in. >With no one in sight, you rise back to your hooves, shuffling over to the door. >Hm... >What's inside of this thing that makes it lock...? ----- Been a while since we had a one shot peeking into the before times with Midnight. https://ponepaste.org/9969

>>17519 Nothing mid about this mare! Sorry Always interesting to see more 'before-times' Middie. Spite can be an awfully potent motivator and it looks like she has a whole heap of it.

>>17484 >"Wow, look at all the people and other ponies!" "You say that like it's a good thing." >Starla sidesteps enough to give you a playful bump while you try to hide a smirk from her. >It's really not too terrible at this car show - but there are more people than you've ever seen before. >Teddy stopped by and picked you up late in the afternoon for the car show - you and Starla sat in the back seat. >With the convertible top of the Cutlass down, it was a bit noisy heading down the road, but it was a fun experience nonetheless. >However, you have to admit it was a shock pulling into the town square, seeing how many cars there were, along with the crowd. >Starla... may have offered some comforting reassurance to alleviate uncertainty on your part. >There wasn't much to 'setting up' once Teddy parked the car in a spot directed by car show personnel. >Pop the hood, put a placard identifying the car with some info in the front windscreen, and clean a few errant bug splatters off of the front of the car. >After that, you all started to wander amongst the cars on display. >Teddy seems to want you to show Starla 'the ropes,' as it were. >He's content to mostly hang back a few steps while you and Starla gab it up about certain automobiles and other sights. >So far, you've kept Starla on the straight and narrow - greet others when they approach her. >Much to your surprise, that has not happened yet in the ten or fifteen minutes your group has spent walking around thus far. >Then again, you've spied more than a few ponies amongst the shuffling crowd - it's not like you're sticking out *that* much. >"Ooh, what's this? Looks like a pickup and a car all in one." "Ford Ranchero. I don't know the year though..." >You glance at the placard sitting in the windshield of the tawny gold hybrid. "'73 with a 351." >"That's really cool. Is there other stuff like that? In the world, I mean." "Yeah, they made these for a number of years, and Chevy had a similar thing called the El Camino. There might be more, I dunno." >Anon would know... >But he's not here. >And you're fine. >"They made the El Camino through to the eighties - the Ranchero was put to rest sometime in the late seventies," Teddy chimes in. "Chrysler did a little bit with what they called the Rampage in the eighties, but I've never seen one. They didn't last long." "Thanks. I'll be honest, I sort of focus on pre-eighties stuff, so that's info I did not know." >"Happy to help when I can." >The three of you press onward. >While Starla enjoys looking at the cars, you can tell she really wants to make conversation with someone, but by how she's crowd-watching. >She perks up every now and then when it appears someone is walking towards her or looking in her direction... >But again, nothing yet. >You're... >You might be a little out of your depth here, now that you think of it. >Maybe she should say hi to someone. >After all, you have never approached anyone and made a friend...

>>17567 >You don't really know how to approach people. >Or other ponies. >This was a stupid idea. >"Hello there!" >A feminine voice nearby halts you in your tracks. >It's only coming out of your internal struggle that you find a fellow pony standing off slightly to your right and ahead of you. >It doesn't take you but a second to recognize the white coat, the pastel-colored mane - and the fact she's a fellow alicorn and roughly the same height as you and Starla. >It's a Celestia bot. >"Hi there!" Starla cheers back, unable to prevent a surge of excitement from slipping into her call. "Uh – hi. Sorry, I was lost in thought." >"Aww, no worries. How are my fellow ponies doing today?" Celestia asks with a beaming smile, sharing equal attention between Starla and me. >Well, they really laid the show personality on thick with this bot... >... >Stop, Midnight. >Try to be nice. >"We're good! There's a lot of cars to look at tonight. You're Celestia, right?" >So far so good for Starla... >"I am!" Celestia replies with a short giggle. >It fades away as she starts to really inspect us. >"I... actually don't recognize you two. I'm sorry," she adds with a hint of concern. >"That's okay! It's because we aren't—" "We aren't, uh– standard. We were custom ponies," I interrupt, silencing Starla with a flare of my wing. "No worries, we get that a lot. My name's Midnight." >You turn to glance at Starla, who momentarily seems taken aback by the interruption. >Maybe you jumped in too soon, but you're a little on edge... >You give Starla a slight nod for her to proceed, which gets her to come back to a cheery expression. >"I'm Starla. It's nice to see another pony tonight." >Celestia extends a hoof toward Starla, who eagerly shakes it, then does the same for you. >"Wow, I don't believe I have ever come across such unique ponies before," Celestia comments with a giggle. "It's very nice to meet you both – do you live around here?" >"Uh... about a town or two over," Starla answers, before turning her head and pointing to Teddy. "Teddy and I live together, Midnight is a friend be brought along tonight – but she lives close by me, too." >Celestia breaks into a big smile as Teddy waves and returns the favor – but otherwise, the conversation is kept strictly to the ponies. >Which isn't too difficult, since you don't know who Celestia is with... >That makes you a little uneasy. "Who are you with?" you ask purely from paranoia. >"Me? Oh— right over there," Celestia answers, pointing to a Ford Country Squire wagon visible just about two cars away. >A middle-aged man and two young kids sit in lawn chairs beside the car – with a blanket laid out on the ground beside them. >"I just needed to stretch my legs a bit – bit of a sticky actuator in one of my hind legs after a while, you know?" "Y‐yeah, I get that in my wing on occasion. Sometimes those little parts just don't like to sit idle," you chuckle, fanning out your wings in demonstration.

>>17568 >Starla chuckles as she nods her head, holding out one of her discolored front legs. >"Sometimes it takes some repairs to get things sorted out," she adds with a laugh. >Huh – you never thought of that. >"Ah, that explains the coloring. Sorry, I didn't want to say anything—" >"Nonono, you're fine, Celestia," Starla reassures her. "It's not that big of a deal. The discoloration is better than dealing with parts that wouldn't work at all." >"I guess it's good to know I have options should something happen down the road," Celestia replies, beaming with a big smile. >"Celestia!" >A call of her name from nearby causes her to snap her attention away from Starla and off in the direction of her family. >One of the kids – a little girl – is waving her arm. >"I'm sorry to have to go, but it was nice meeting you, Starla and Midnight," Celestia says, nodding to each of you respectively before turning to head off. "Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime!" >"I hope so! Bye Celestia," Starla calls after her. "Good talking to you!" you add. >That actually went better than expected. >If anything, you were the one... a bit awkward. >Maybe you were a bit too hasty. >But Starla sits on her haunches and sticks her forelegs out in a flash, grasping you and pulling you into an embrace. "What the—" >"Thanks, Midnight! That was awesome!" she cheers with exuberance. >Alright then – Starla thinks it went really well. >You can't help but crack a bit of a smile at her outburst. "That was pretty much all you, Star. I'll be honest, I'm not that good and meeting new people or ponies. I think I made it a bit awkward - at least to start." >"I thought it was fine - maybe this is a good learning experience for both of you tonight," Teddy chimes in, reaching over to stroke Starla's hair on top of her head and giving you a light pat on the withers. "You both sort of cover each other's... I don't want to say weaknesses, but a skill where you're maybe a bit lacking." "Ah, you don't have to sugarcoat it for me, Teddy," you scoff with a smirk. "But yeah, I guess we do make a decent team, Star." >Starla nods her head fervently at your musing. "Absolutely – hopefully we can run into more ponies tonight." "Well, we don't have to go overboard, either," you reply sheepishly. >You can only imagine how much shit Anon would be giving you right now. >In a good way of course. >And maybe a little grating... >It sucks he couldn't be here. >It's not that you *miss* him... >It just would have been better. >The 'two's company, three's a crowd' sort of thing, obviously. >After all, Teddy's kinda just letting you and Star do your own thing. >But he's clearly enjoying the sort of tag-along role... >Alright, maybe you miss Anon just a bit. >But Anon is probably stumbling his way through painting the engine right now – meaning at the end of the evening, there are multiple things to look forward to seeing. >This is your time and Starla's time to shine. >You nod to yourself and push onward with tonight's unique experience. -----

>>17569 Yay! A new update. Thanks for posting, Auto!