>>3505 It's been a while since I've been in a bootleg thread. Have some classics.

>>3506 Rare and Twill got me into writing greens. Been sticking to /bootleg/ for almost two years now. Was around since before we had a board but only relatively recently felt spurred to action.

>>3507 >Twill Any great classics of that? I kind of fell off of /bootleg/ shortly after it became a general.

Hope everyone enjoys the place! Don't forget to leave feedback on /qa/ if you have issues.

>>3509 Thanks. I wasn't the one who knew of this place but it seems pretty comfy. Here's hoping we spread the glory, beauty and... nerdiness... of bootleg pone. Have some of the last two years of Jacky and her two sisters.

>>3508 >Classic twill uessing these count in that catagory

>>3511 Only three per post... I'll have to remember that.

>>3511 Not quite a bootleg, but reminds me of this.

>>3516 >>3517 Yeah, Sparking Shine is... she's quite a thing. Big freaking dork is what she is.

>>3518 And some non-Jacky bootmares.

>>3517 just about on the nose of being a bootleg, that kind of dynamic is interesting to explore too

>>3518 The one in >>3517 is called Dewdrop Dazzle I guess? Was mainly drawn by one artist PonykillerX, though much of his art seems to be under a php label now. Someone on /mlp/ told me about it because at first I thought it was a recolored Twilight drawing. While Dewdrop is a Twilight recolor I guess it was on an official product somewhere at sometime.

>>3522 PonykillerX did a lot of great artwork.

>>3519 >green Fluttershy Is she going to tell me to stay out of her swamp?

>>3523 A lot of it seems to be pretty high quality. Definitely interesting seeing so many recolors that aren't actually recolors in one place.

>>3524 >"Hey Hey Hey stay out of my swamp" kek

>>3524 Flutterlime is a good girl, she just won't really be able to tell you anything since her voice box is a little borked.

>>3505 It's nice to see another general set up shop over here. As the Anon responsible for the /bug/ threads on here and BuggyCYOA, I think it's cool that you found some inspiration from that. I hope you friends decide to stick around if /mlp/ continues to get worse. Even though there's certain people on /mlp/ who get completely buttblasted whenever this site is mentioned, I can't help but imagine what it would be like if every actual G4 poster moved here. I'd like to imagine it would be as close to a paradise like old 2012-2013 era /mlp/ as we could get, considering nearly a decade has gone by since those golden years. Pic from my ancient archives, thought it might be relevant here

>>3528 /mlp/ mods are starting to get trigger happy on nhnb mentions

>>3524 >>3526 yes

>>3530 Lmao.

>>3530 We have artist amongus. >>3529 Why?

>>3529 as expected they always do this when hiro is threatened, there's a line between discussing it and shilling for it though that gets outright yeeted

Speaking of, since we have a lot of writers writing greens, should the greens be copy/pasted here too? Do many here care for/read green?

>>3535 I like green. Maybe wherever it gets written just put a ponepaste link or screen cap of it in the other place.

>jacky is still going damn. anyone here that can recommend a newer bootleg green?

>>3506 >>3508 >fell off bootleg shortly after what was it about the transition to a general that made you stop coming around? and Are you talking about the first classic general or the revival. /boot/ has gone through a lot of phases, but I think it's got a good balance now >>3543 You're lookin at 'er in the OP. Midnight is the newest bootleg and quickly becoming a hit.

>>3548 >what was it about the transition to a general that made you stop coming around? Hard to say really. I think with a lot of generals, they originate from a single or a couple stories and when they transition to a general they sort of become a little less special. But more likely I probably just got busy with some other horse projects. >Are you talking about the first classic general or the revival. Whatever came first. I was usually in the one off threads prior to any sort of general. >I think it's got a good balance now Good to hear. I'll definitely be giving it another chance.

>>3548 Midnight is a pretty (and moody) mare.

>>3543 What can I say, I'm a fucking autismo. But I did spend a good month or two writing a story about a filly named Angel Cake. Thankfully you have Reggie and Auto writing their stuff too. For a while I really was the only writer there but it has grown a lot. Now I have evolved to the crazy guy who used to be endearing but is now just depressing.

>>3505 About Midnight. That is an excellent art in the OP. The story was a good read too.

>>3565 >The story was a good read too. it's still ongoing, check out part II in auto's bin if you want to get up to date

https://boards.4channel.org/mlp/thread/37597247#p37603018 For now I'll just link to any green updates.

>>3505 I like this picture very much!

>>3510 There was a short green about the cereal mare https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/37236567/#37246807

>>3577 >russian discount unicorn ponuts with sugar.png

hello newfrens /bootleg/ is overdue for a trimming and our first FAQ. if there's anything you want to know about the boot, nows the time to ask

>>3584 >if there's anything you want to know about the boot, nows the time to ask I've been out of the /boot/loop so long I don't even know what to ask. What's your favorite bootleg poner?

>>3585 >been out of the loop so long dont know what to ask b-but thats the kind of person who the faq would be for >whats your favorite boot? of all time? impossible to answer, like collecting a plushy pone pile. there's too many good ones though I can give you new darling. pic related

>>3588 who is that?

>>3597 Dat's Zooma, Reggie's bootleg. She may not be the correct color for Luna, and she may not be able to run in a straight line, but she has a heart of gold.

>>3584 I actually might have an idea. What about something like a bootleg family tree? A document containing a picture of and a short description of each? Maybe link a few stories as well.

>>3584 I'm totally new to /boot/, where do I start? Just pick one of the "best of the best" from the OP and start reading?

>>3602 >family tree we are doing something a bit inspired like how snowpones OC chart is handled but it's a big work in progress and much more messy due to the nature of wildly different kinds. other than that there's no wiki like batpones but you can visit the "big green archive"gdoc link in the OP for a short descriptions >>3603 that's entirely up to you, Rare was what started the general, you can find the one off caps here >>3506 some older /boot/ stories hit hard, but bootlegs have been a thing here and there on /mlp/ throughout the years. what do you think youd like to see in bootleg?

Gracing this thread with greentext. Update to Midnight. Part 1: https://ponepaste.org/5610 Part 2 (current): https://ponepaste.org/5723 >You didn't bother keeping track of how long Midnight was in your arms. >At some point, she finally pulled away from you without a word, turned away, and lay back down. >All you felt you could do was move back over and give her space. >The whole time, Midnight made sure to keep herself as silent as possible - the only indications of her outpouring of emotions was the occasional hitch in her breathing, as well as the dampness that now permeated the right shoulder and back area of your shirt. >Now, you just sit in silence on the couch, once in a while glancing over at her now-slumbering form. >It's an awful feeling, not knowing what to do. >How do you help someone that doesn't want to be helped? >Or know how to accept help? >You already sort of figured a while ago Midnight had been putting on an act to hide any potential vulnerabilities - but you hadn't expected she had experienced any sort of trauma that was left alone to be bottled up. >Who knows what the hell else she went through? >She certainly doesn't want to share it. >Whether that be fear of reliving it or appearing "weak" to you - that was up for debate. >Hell, you had to play it off that *you* needed a hug just to try comforting her. >And she still had a hissy fit about it. >And you're also left with more haunting questions. >Midnight was the only one dumped here that was apparently alive - why? >You have to assume it was not done purposely. >So, did she escape? >Could EquisCo be looking for her? >Could you be in deep shit for harboring her? >That last question doesn't really matter much to you. >Like hell you're going to give her up to the shithole she came from if they come a-knocking. >...You sort of feel guilty for how you thought about her when she first arrived. >Wondering why they didn't deactivate her. >Now the mere thought makes you feel ill. >She's much more than a mass of circuits like you originally thought. >And... the pony thing doesn't really affect you anymore. >You just wish you knew how to help her. >Ignoring problems and lingering pain is unhealthy - you can attest to the first issue, and she's helping you with that. >But Midnight just refuses help. >Her boasting of superiority, of her being a strong pony... >Yeah, totally not insecurity. >Hopefully you've made at least some inroads with her tonight. >You glance over at Midnight again. >This time, you see a glint of a blue iris peeking through a crack in her eyelids. >"What are you doing?" she mumbles sleepily. "Sitting here, I guess." >"You're watching me, you freak." "No, I glanced at you," you calmy protest. >"Multiple times." >... "So you've been watching me while pretending you're sleeping. And I'm the creepy one." >Midnight fully joins the sentient world, opening her eyes and raising her head off the couch, glancing up at the clock on the wall above the tv. >"It's midnight," she states flatly. "Are you telling me your name, or the time?" you ask her.

>>3645 >"Ha, ha," she replies sarcastically, shaking her head. "Seriously, what are you doing?" >Judging by the tone her voice carries with that question, there is only one answer she will accept. >If there's any chance Midnight is going to let you crack open a door into her emotional and psychological health, it's time to make a positive impression. >By being honest. "Concerned, I guess. I know you don't want that but - look, you're helping me out getting shit straight financially and getting my head on right. I just don't want you to feel like I'm not willing to listen to you." >"So... you don't listen to me when I say I don't need your help. Interesting," she replies coldy, rubbing her chin with a hoof as if pondering that thought. "Midnight, I'm not implying you aren't strong, if that's what you're trying to get at," you argue. "What you told me earlier tonight - that's straight-up nightmare fuel. I don't know if I could mentally handle that situation as you have for so long." >"I appreciate the compliment, whether you meant to do so or not," she replies. >Rather than reply, you just remain silent, staring at her. >The lack of any biting retort seems to frustrate her a bit as she sighs. >"What do you want from me? To cave and become your damsel in distress? Some submissive little pony you need to take care of? Is that your fetish?" "No. But stop putting up this facade that you're invulnerable to pain. Pretending it doesn't exist does not make it so, Midnight. Isn't that what you argued in my case?" you propose. "You told me I was stupid for doing that." >"That was different," she says sternly, once again averting her gaze to an opposite end of the room. >It's a tone and a gesture that lets you know anything else you try to use to battering ram your way into her psyche is going to be a waste of time. >Back to square one for now - but she seems to admit there are unresolved issues she keeps a stranglehold on. >Not that it surprises you. >It's just a reminder that there's more to the attitude than just being an ass for fun. "Alright then." >Your white flag of a statement catches Midnight by complete surprise, judging by her head whipping back to you almost instantaneously. >"What?" >You shrug. "You don't want to talk about it. That's fine, I can't force it out of you. I don't own you Midnight - you're your own mare," you explain. "All I want to put out there is if you need an ear to listen, I'm always available. Fair enough?" >Her eyes narrow at you, evidently suspicious of your intentions behind those words. >"This is supposed to be some sort of reverse psychology where I feel like there's an opportunity slipping away right now and I need to seize the moment, isn't it?" "If that's what you want to believe, sure. I'm not trying to argue with you Midnight. I'm really just... putting myself out there. Okay?" >"Riiiight."

>>3646 >You feel yourself starting to get a little irritated with Midnight now - and some of that probably has to do with your own fatigue. >Reaching over for the tv remote, you unmute the volume before flipping off the power. "You are right that it's getting late, so I'm going to get some sleep," you tell her, before getting up and shuffling off to your room, hitting the main light switch en route. >The kitchen light is still on, but you figure Midnight will get that when she's well and ready. >"Hey, Anonymous." >You stop as you reach the door frame and spin around. >Midnight's head pokes up over the couch back, her eyes giving off the faintest blue glow in the dim light. >"You didn't bring up anything else about... earlier tonight," she says uneasily. "Was I supposed to? I didn't think anything needed to be said," you reply, the back of your shirt still offering the slightest reminder of the emotions from earlier. >Midnight hesitates, mulling over your response. >Without a word, she disappears from your view behind the couch. "Goodnight, Midnight." >"Good night," she says, sounding a bit muffled by the obstacles between you. >You close the door to your bedroom, leaving it open just a crack. >"...thank you," you hear come faintly from the living room. >Well, that's new. >As much as you want to rush back out there and point out she actually thanked you - and you heard it - you leave it alone. >Rome wasn't built in a day. >Baby steps, Anon. ----- Short update, but the scene really didn't lend itself to a major update, considering how things play out. Also fighting a cold, which just makes it hard for me to focus. But I really wanted to get something out, especially since I was blessed with new artwork of the beautiful girl.

>>3627 >what do you think youd like to see in bootleg? I don't know, I guess I'll start with Rare and see what happens.

>>3588 >new darling Didn't realize anyone thought of my girl that way. Feels good man. I'm taking a short break from Zooma to focus on two stories I have going in other threads. Once I make some more progress on them, I'll be focusing solely on Condense for a bit.

>>3649 il recommend Minky for prime-comfy, it's a nice pick me up. also since the the bread is still alive on /mlp/ thats where most of the dead-activity will be at. but il check in here daily or so

>>3647 Nice to see some action here. Looks like I'm going to have another story to catch up on, thanks Anon.

>decide to stop being a retard and learn how to use pastedown like all the other coolkid generals >trannie jannies ban me while I'm working on reworking on the paste and significantly trimming down the OP This is discrimination against bootlegs, but here's what I have so far. Just use the "bootleg shorts collection" https://ponepaste.org/5037

>>3692 >>trannie jannies ban me while I'm working on reworking on the paste and significantly trimming down the OP wut?

>>3692 I feel like sorting the stories by writefag so that you don't need to write their name 20 times would look a bit better, like here: https://ponepaste.org/5501

>>3696 Also, ponepaste is a bit retarded on phones. You can't really see the synopsis, and you can't scroll horizontally.

>>3692 What exactly did they ban you for?

>>3698 barbiefag janitors only work for the protected class. criticizing g5 was fine, but not g5 eqg.

>>3709 >criticizing g5 was fine They don't even allow this. I was banned for suggesting g5 posters move to one of the many g5 threads instead of trying to take over an explicitly fim one.

>>3709 >>3710 Watching what gets deleted on desu has been very enlightening.

>>3697 not sure what solution there is, but someone can try to notify ponepasteanon in the alternative fan site threads about it. >>3696 we can try it, i know a lot of generals go this route

>>3577 Wasnt clear on how to get this to work and took a while but finally unraveled the mystery of embedding images into greens. the future is now https://ponepaste.org/5787 >>3697 >>3696 And here's a trial run of archiving by name https://ponepaste.org/5786

>>3577 Thank you for reminding me of this Anon. Was nice to see it again.

>>3718 I hope Ponepaste will be able to handle influx of media. It was made as a text hosting site and I have no idea how much more resources it will need to host images with greens if people will start to use this feature frequently.

>>3720 he could probably limit it to 1 per paste, or thumbnails only. as long as people dont go nuts with it, it should be ok

>>3725 Been a while since I've used Ponepaste, but do they actually host the images themselves or do they just link them from somewhere else?

>>3746 they don't host any images, but you can link from one of three external sources, I believe

>tfw still banned making use of my vacation, the shorts archive pastedown is now just a regular archive, shorts included. I can hand the keys over to reggie if hes around for this cleanup job

>>3798 >>tfw still banned What did you post, anon?

>>3798 I gotta say, the Ponepaste formatting looks impressive.

>>3798 Sure, I can give it a once over if you'd like. I'm actually working on something similar for /moon/. Just let me know what you need me to do. Email is in the OP template if you'd prefer discussing it offline.

>>3508 I went and converted some of the picture text into greens now. It's not much but here's some Twill, finally re-added to the list https://ponepaste.org/5703 >>3808 The new archive has the majority of descriptions and links all set now, so feel free shoot me feedback and use this as the main replacement for all the links above in the OP. https://ponepaste.org/5037

>>3852 >>3808 shit wrong link. thats the old structure, this is the new one thats still hidden until I get the greenlight https://ponepaste.org/5786

/bootleg/ hangout. We typically do these once a week. Come listen to music, chat with writefags, etc. https://w2g.tv/r4cci9qruvfldr797a

https://boards.4channel.org/mlp/thread/37597247#p37603018 Been posting more Jacky. I think if I do something new I'll post it there and here. For Jacky, I'm pretty sure 0 out of X people will know what's going on.

>>3852 That's some pretty nice art there. The PonePaste is looking good as well.

>>3852 >>3853 It looks really, really good. Very clean and easy to follow. I only have a few nitpicky items: >No link to FAQ. Should this even be in the story archive paste, or part of the OP template? We should probably try to start this discussion in the main /bootleg/ thread and see if we can come to a consensus of what should be in the FAQs. >Summary is misspelled as "summery" in the table column headers >In the "Shorts and One-offs" table, the first entry (Rare shorts) is listed without an author instead of being placed under "Anon" >Some stories are missing word counts or summaries. Not a big deal, as it takes time to read through a story and come up with a synopsis. >The link to Zooma takes the reader to line 114 of the paste. Delete #114 in the hyperlink and it will be fixed. >Please change Condense's status from "on hiatus" to "ongoing" Thank you for the time and effort you've put into making this.

>>3905 >No link to the FAQ yet Doesnt exist yet, placeholder since people wanted to collab on it. I'm fine with putting either or spot in the OP or in the archive, it was just in the interest of cleaning up the fluff >Typo Slipped by because it wasnt in angry red squiggles. fixed >Missplaced Anon Due to a last minute decision to move kirko's shorts out of Anon. fixed >Missing information I /did/ say the majority not all of them, its hard to come up with summaries for all of them sometimes by myself, but i am aware of the gaps. as for the missing word count, its due to them being off ponepaste which doesnt carry a wordcounter but will eventually be dealt with. There's also the case of the case of not the full word count like 400k words of Jacky since it's just part 1. >Link takes reader to line# interesting, didn't know ponepaste can do this and might be useful later, do you know if this can work with pastedown or just greentext? fixed >Condense status to ongoing it isnt though, it's been on break since Zooma's driveby curves and swerves Ban should be up by tomorrow so I'll finally be able to rejoin the thread

>>3906 >do you know if this can work with pastedown or just greentext? I don't think line linking works with pastedown, as pastedown doesn't show line numbers. I could be wrong, though. >it isnt though, it's been on break since Zooma's driveby curves and swerves After much thought, I decided to pull Condense off the shelf before I wrote >>3905 Started working on her for the first time in almost five months, pic related

>>3893 Even moar Jack has been posted. I'd stop since it's a month and a half away from being two years since I started but I'm not sure I know how to.

>>3921 Always good to see more content.

>>3943 reposting from /mlp/ finally unb& for now but didn't forget you guys and this is a great time to get started into /bootleg/ Next is a big boon for /bootleg/ people have asked for this for years. The thun parade has been fully pastebinned! this alone would be worthwhile to celebrate >mfw felt some real accomplishment finally able to connect the string of seemingly unrelated oneoffs, this has been a constant itch for years >It turns out there's actually had a sense of continuitiy and it wasn't long before I noticed a pattern of characters being introduced in the same house in a short many, many posts before. >How far back are we talking? The last time that he wrote it was in thread #36 but this man has been writing for the /bootleg/, the same house and the same Anon since #9! >Thun all starts with Dim Sum, and I even found the Aria bootleg that he talked about. I totally glazed over that in the middle of Dim-Sum's chinese, this was driving me nuts because I've gone back so many times in desu. >After staring at these short greens the style of writing and comedic play stood out to me too, I'm betting it's the same author as the fantastic Freedom and Commie >On their own its hard to rally around but when seen together like a big tapestry it's great. >No longer will kirko's work be invisible, and together with dusting these shorts off and piecing them together like a broken old stone fragments, I believe it deserves to be added to the best of the boot. >now that the full string has been united I'll be retiring the other pastes which only served as a small fraction and had bland awful names like "counting with bump" because it was hard to pin down what to call it >Unless someone gives me a better name I will be naming this House of boots to reflect on this madman's building of a family, and how he has been with us for the long haul >You may find the newly binned green here: https://ponepaste.org/5794

>>3946 Neat.

>>3647 >For the third time this morning, you hear Anon's alarm blare its electronic maelstrom of auditory pain. >You've been nice thus far, but this is getting a little ridiculous now. >Lazy bastard. >With a huff of resignation, you set aside the laptop you were perusing and slip off of the couch, heading to Anon's room blocked only by his door left slightly ajar. >It's not necessarily odd for him to hit the snooze button once in a while - but it's usually pretty quick. >In the back of your mind, you're a little concerned with the realization that it has been blaring for some time before the noise is silenced. >...Er, you're concerned for your own well-being, since he's basically hiding you here. >So you sort of need him alive. >Not that you're worried about that, either - after all, he has silenced his alarms. >They don't turn off by themselves, right? >You use one of your wings to lightly push open the door as you creep into his room. > It's rather barren, the walls a pale robin egg blue that has faded with time, and no decor to speak of - aside from a small window right above the bed. >Merely a bed, an end table, and a door which leads to a small walk-in closet grace this room as far as furnishings. >A lump you safely assume is Anon's slumbering form is nestled within a cocoon of blankets. >More than you would expect to see, considering the temperature in here, which is on the upper end of comfortable. "Hey sloth, stop hitting the snooze button. It's almost nine-thirty," you snap. >Anon's form merely shifts a bit, before letting out a fatigued mumble of unintelligible words. "I don't understand moonspeak, try again in English." >This time, you just get a groan in response. "Alright, enough of this." >You storm over to his bedside, leaning over and grabbing a hold of the end of the linens and tossing them aside to expose Anon to the sunlight. >He doesn't put up any sort of a fight. >Instead, he focuses on bracing his eyes for the sharp contrast of light by squinting. >He looks... very pale. >And slightly shivering from head to toe. >And he looks quite exhausted, by his sluggish movements in getting himself adjusted to focus on you. "You look awful," you finally manage to tell him. >"You were a lot prettier last night, too," he strikes back, shuddering particularly hard as he grabs those sheets to cover himself back up. "Stop being disgusting - what are you doing?" >"I feel like shit, Midnight," he groans. "Unless you cranked the AC down to the 50s, I'm gonna guess I'm suffering from the chills right now." >You blink. "So you're cold?" >"I'm sick. Ill. Whatever you want to call it. I can't be up and around like this. Probably got a fever, and I'm feeling dizzy just trying to look at you. I can't open today." "You can't afford *not* to open up - we just lost almost two full days due to weather last week," you protest, the thought of more lost revenue making you anxious. >"Alright, alright. Damn slave driver."

>>3955 >Slowly, Anon sits himself upright, still clinging to the sheets in which he's draped himself. >He pauses before actually standing up, seeming to sway back and forth a bit. >"Is the room spinning for you?" he asks. "No..." >While your first instinct is to believe he's screwing with you or playing it up, the look of utter exhaustion he sports and the continued slight swaying back and forth convinces you otherwise. >Frustrated, you motion with your hoof for him to lay back down, which he obliges - albeit slowly and with an accompanying groan. >"Sorry, I didn't ask to be sick, Midnight," he apologizes, shifting around a bit to find a more comfortable position. "I know, I know," you grumble in response, turning to head back out of his room. >Maybe you're overreacting a bit, considering the ease of access the website now provides leaves a vast majority of orders being placed online nowadays... >But still, not being open at all has to hurt business somewhat, and you want to make this place's financial foundation as rock solid as possible, as soon as possible. >And the hours open to the public have already been cut back out of necessity to pull parts for orders that are to be shipped out. >Of course, that's the transition - being here only to ship out and allow pickup maybe once a week... >You still don't like not being open at this point in time though. >You can't sit back and do nothing. "I'm opening up on my own," you announce, turning back around to face Anon >"You wha?" >He sits up right away - going just a bit too far forward before his delayed reactions stabilize him. "I'll open up shop for a little bit - answer any calls, deal with whatever few customers we get, and get caught up on the parts we need to pull." >"Absolutely not, Midnight," he sternly rebuts, not wasting a moment of thought. >Undaunted by his refusal, you pin your ears back with anger and step forward. "Why not? I'm more than capable of doing it, and it's not like I'm asking you to hand the whole business over to me," you argue. >"Have you forgotten you aren't really supposed to be here?" he says, pointing a finger at you. "What if - well, what if someone from the place you came from happens to walk in and recognizes you? It's game over." >Okay, he's evidently delirious with illness, judging by how little thought went into that argument. "What the hell kind of an excuse is that? Have you somehow forgotten the numerous times I was working on engines in the shop while customers walked in? As well as the few times I've actually interacted with them? Are you being stupid on purpose?" >Anon opens up his mouth to speak, but is unable to find any words that will help him. "I'm my own mare anyways, Anon - you said so yourself. I'm pretty sure I can manage without your expertise for a little bit." >"I don't like this idea," he continues to stonewall. "You still aren't supposed to legally be out on your own, you told me that."

>>3956 "Yet this is private property - *your* private property, might I add." >In the back of your mind, you've already decided this is something you will do, whether you have Anon's approval or not. >But you'd still rather have his blessing, rather than do this behind his back. >More out of a desire to avoid hearing his droll scowling voice later on in the evening when he finds out. >"Pull parts out back. That's it." >You shake your head defiantly. "Open till about one in the afternoon, answer any calls, and then pull parts out back." >He scowls at your counter offer. >However, Anon sighs after mulling his options for a few silent moments. >"I'm not going to win with you, am I?" >You shake your head once again. >"Be careful, Midnight," he says solemnly. "You act as if I'm going to get caught and get you in trouble," you chastise. >"Dammit, I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about *you*." >The way he emphasizes his concern makes you feel... >Odd. "Shut up," is all you can reply with, embarrassed by being thrust into the central focus like this. >"No, I'm serious. I want you around Midnight - I don't care if you think that's weird or makes you feel uncomfortable," he presses. "Well - come on, your business is-" >"I'm not talking about having you around to help me. Let go of your pride for just five minutes, please." "Then what is it?" you ask, feeling awkward as hell. >"I enjoy your company, Midnight. I want you around for - you. So yes, I'm worried for your sake." >You swallow hard at that statement. "You can't just keep me under wraps forever. That's not a life," you reply. >"I know, which is why I don't have a leg to stand on in this argument. And I realize it's a longshot that someone is going to recognize you, put two and two together, and come to the conclusion you're essentially a fugitive. But I can't vouch for you if I'm not there - I can't make up some quick excuse to cover your ass. So jus-" >You unfurl your left wing and gently shove him back down to a laying position. "You're doing way too much talking for someone as sick and out of it as you are," you tell him. "Shut up, get some sleep, I'll be fine, you candyass." >Without giving him another chance to speak, you trot out of the room, closing the door behind you. > It's only now you realize you've been holding your breath for some time, and you let it out in a big exhale. >'I want you around.' >You've never heard that directed toward you. >Not unless it was for someone else's shot at a massive ego boost. >Or prestige. >Or monetary gain. >Your whole existence is based on a gamble to gain influence within a company. >It was only in hindsight you understood that. >The few compliments and discussions shared were more or less to build up the ego of another, for their own betterment. >Something beyond you - you have always been a vessel for a further goal. >To be kept around for - well, you, your 'company' as Anonymous so eloquently described...

>>3957 > It's a wave of emotions you've never felt before. >A completely foreign feeling that is almost overwhelming right now. >Why? >In reality - what do you have to offer aside from your aptitude to learn skills at a rapid pace and your gift of making ferrous objects float in the air? >Your whole plan to fit here and make this your home revolved only around making yourself useful as a tool, not... >Whatever Anon thinks of you now. >Fucking rambling moron. >He even said so on day one, he had no interest in ponies, no interest in you or your past. >Which was fine with you - it's what you expected. >It was what felt normal. >What the hell happened? >Anon just keeps digging beyond what you offered and agreed upon - face-value facts, present day. >You don't want to delve into the past - you can't change it. >It doesn't matter anymore, and it's unpleasant to reflect upon. >... >And you hate who you are. >You hate *what* you are. >Anon pressing his way further and further into your past is forcing you to come to terms with that. >What does he serve to gain from it? >It's completely illogical. >Why do things suddenly have to be so damn complicated? >And why- >No, get a grip on yourself. >You have things that need to be done. >Stop thinking about shit that doesn't matter. >With another deep breath, you shove those thoughts and worries down into the recesses of your mind and head out the door. ---- Between being sick and not being at work, I didn't get much done on this update until last night.

>>3958 Good stuff! I hope you'll get better soon, Auto.

>>3958 Nice update, get well soon.

What's this bootleg bug's story?

>>3958 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLATbzMutkc [Embed] >This is obscenely boring. >How Anon managed to occupy himself month after month sitting and waiting for customers is beyond you. >Almost an hour and a half since opening the front gates. And not a single person has popped in. >...you did get a few stares from passersby when fiddling with the lock and propping the gate open, though. >Despite your confidence you crowed about when convincing Anon to let you do this, it was a little unnerving. >Again, you aren't used to this attention. >You aren't used to being out in the open for all to see. >By design, you're meant to be quite striking in appearance. >...that's far from a boon right now, considering the circumstances. >But, no one stopped and shrieked in horror. >Sirens didn't begin to blare as the authorities closed in to neutralize you. >Just some double-takes. >There was never any thought put into what you would do outside of the facility once you made good your escape. >Tending to a junkyard certainly wasn't something that sprung to mind. >But beggars can't be choosers. >Now... >You have too much time to think. >What illness does Anon have? >With virtually no knowledge of humans, that question has you nervous. >Will he be okay? >Could it be fatal? >He didn't seem overly concerned about it... >But what if that was to allay your fears? >Fears that he probably doesn't know you have... >Yeah, trying to hide inevitable death is probably a reach. >However, you would like to see him back to normal as quickly as possible for peace of mind. >The least you could do is at least check on him a few times throughout the day, in case he needs anything. >After some time to let the thought settle, maybe it isn't so awful to think that Anon cares. >It's - well, it's sort of a relief. >It means you don't have to constantly be looking out for yourself in every direction. >Someone has your back. >Again, that's a new feeling. >Hell, interacting with anyone on a regular occasion is new. >You remember being virtually isolated from birth until arriving here. >'Birth' might not be an appropriate term, but the point still stands. >It was all part of the experiment, after all. >To be fully independent. >The creak of stairs draws your attention away from internal thoughts. >Anonymous carefully makes his way down the steps, still wearing a sheet like a cloak. "What the hell are you doing? Get back to bed!" you shout at him, aghast to see him as he tries not to fall the rest of the way down with his lack of balance. >"You want me to shit in the sink?" he croaks. "Not... particularly?" >You try not to gag at the thought. >"Then you're going to watch me stumble down the stairs. May as well see if a hot shower helps me at all, while I'm down here," he explains further, holding out a fresh change of leisure clothes out from under his cloak. >You don't say anything else as you warily watch him traverse the rest of the steps.

>>4070 [Whoops, it appears I'm retarded. Nevermind the extra [Embed] there.] >"Any customers yet?" he asks upon reaching the bathroom door. >You shake your head negatively, which elicits a frown from him. >"Sorry. How many orders came in overnight?" "I... hadn't thought about checking that," you reply, appalled that simple task had slipped your mind. >"You worrying about me?" Anon suggests with a smirk. >That face instantly draws your ire. >Even if he is kind of right in that assumption. >Are you sure you didn't just come down here to annoy me when I'm supposed to be rid of you for the day?" >He shrugs while walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind. >"I'm a man of many talents," his muffled voice echoes from the other side. >Smartass. >While Anon does his thing, you check up on emails on the computer for orders, as reminded by him. >And there are quite a few new ones in the last fourteen or so hours. >Most of which seem to be engine parts, just from a glance. >Fairly simple, as your work has left shelves full of sorted parts in the building. >Pontiac 400 heads, Ford 351 oil pan, Jeep 360 four-barrel intake... >You don't recall doing any Jeep stuff. >But there are some parts you know - at least, that you know are marked. >Book smarts don't necessarily translate into instant visual identification - not like Anon can do. >You still need reference tags for most of these things. >That knowledge likely comes with experience. >Almost in time with the sound of the water being turned on, you pad over to the storage room and make your way along the narrow corridors. >The lighting in this room is awful, but you have no issues seeing in the dark, thanks to your eyes. >You can't help but laugh when Anon stumbles his way along in here when he's looking for something. >Like other aspects of his business, it was something he noticed, but never bothered to improve. >With as much stockpiling as the two of you have accomplished, reaching and replacing light fixtures will be a tall task. >Maybe someday... >You manage to find the engine heads fairly quick, trotting back to the entrance just to place them down outside the door. >But before you turn back to head for the oil pan, someone comes around the corner of the entrance to the shop. >A customer! >Just as you start to feel excitement and anxiety build, you get a better look at your visitor. >Carrying a large box, the man is clad in a drab brown uniform... >Just a delivery. >Dammit. >"Well good morning, miss," he greets you with a smile and in a voice that is borderline baby talk. "Your owner wouldn't happen to be around to sign for this package, would he?" >Owner. >You clench your jaw at the utterance of that insulting word being directed toward you. >And the way he says that! >Like you're some sort of imbecile! >You have half a mind to- >"In here, but I'm a little occupied at the moment!" Anon shouts through the sounds of the shower. "She can sign for it, can't she?"

>>4071 >"Of course, sorry about that," the delivery driver announces back, his gaze drawn away from you and toward the closed door behind. >It gives you a moment to scowl at him in an attempt to relieve some of your anger. >Just as he starts to focus back on you, you bring yourself back to a decidedly more approachable appearance. >"Where do you want this?" he asks politely, motioning to the large package with a nod of his head. >The box is large enough to require the use of both hands. >Well, he can shove it wh- "I'll take it," you reply, sensing at least some sort of ferrous material inside you can grasp. >It's strange how your ability works, but you can 'feel' when something can be moved or drawn toward you. >From that, you can get a sense of general shape, as well as any separate pieces. >Feeling the presence of four cylindrical objects, you gently grab them and motivate the box to the floor, much to your visitor's surprise. >"Whoa, that's trippy." >It takes a moment before he reaches for some sort of device on his hip, tapping through a few things before holding it out to you, as well as some sort of plastic pen. >"Sign here," he directs. >You frown, knowing full well you can't handle that object. >Your eyes divert their attention to other nearby objects, before spotting the thin metal wire holding the tag to the engine heads you put down. >The wire unwinds itself under your silent instructions, before weaving through the air and wrapping around the stylus pen. >"Man, they keep on coming up with crazier inventions, don't they?" he says, wide-eyed and astounded. "Something like that," you absently reply, taking a moment to scrawl your name on the touchscreen. >'Midnight.' >That sort of makes it official now, doesn't it? >It was a quick thought to avoid Anon from using the cringe-worthy 'Turbo' moniker, but you're come to prefer the name now. >It sure beats an alphanumeric project code. >As he puts the device away, he renews his smile and waves, heading back out. >"Have a good day, Midnight." >You half-heartedly wave with a hoof, waiting for him to disappear beyond the brick-and-mortar door frame. >A growl of pent-up ire escapes you once the coast is clear. >You don't think you'll ever get over that term. >For more than one reason. >"Sorry, Midnight." "What?" >You turn to face the bathroom door after hearing Anon's apology from the other side. >"I was a little worried you might not take too well to him asking for your..." >He trails off. "Owner?" you suggest, keeping your audible bitterness to the minimum you can muster. >"Yeah. I figured I would just speak up." >You could berate him for that. >After all, this is supposed to be your day flying solo. >Perhaps he came down here to 'shower' because he doesn't trust you... >Even if that were true, he's right. >That comment really pissed you off, even if that is the cover you need to hide behind.

>>4072 >"I probably would have had to fetch you for approval anyways. And no, that did not sit well with me," you sigh. "Thank you." >You await the gasp or comment pointing out your rare manners. >But aside from the water shutting off, all is silent. >That's... unsettling. "Anonymous?" >"Yeah? I'm here." "Oh. I was expecting you to be a smartass about that," you admit. >"Should I?" "Normally you would have. Is this part of being ill?" >You hear him chuckle slightly. >"No, but I think I know why I feel like shit," he announces. "Do tell." >You're admittedly anxious for this piece of news. >"You remember that chicken bacon ranch pizza I had about a week ago?" >That looked like a horrendous concoction when he opened the box that night. >You didn't touch it. "That was last week, though." >"And there were still leftovers. Maybe a little too old to eat safely..." "Dumbass." >"Yeah, I deserve that. But it means I'll probably be feeling better once it's out of my system, so hopefully tomorrow." >The door opens, greeting you with a wave of steam that rolls outward. >Anon shuffles out in his new change of clothes, his hair still looking slightly damp. >"Anyway... to tell you the truth, I guess I see now that you've got your own demons to work through. As much as I like to pick for fun and enjoy getting it back, that's not fair to you. You're trying." >Try as you might, it's impossible to keep stoic. >You feel your face grow hot. "I'm... we all got the little things that bother us. You're making a mountain out of a molehill." >"Maybe. Let's just leave it at that. I still feel like everything is moving while I'm standing still." >A cooling wave of relief washes over you with that gentle dismissal, leaving you with the mystery in the package just delivered. "What did you order, anyway? Whatever it is, there's four of 'em, and I can tell they're some sort of metal tubes." >Anon, wide-eyed, looks at you incredulously as you describe the contents. >"You figured that all out just by picking it up?" "Still sealed, isn't it?" >"Cat's basically out of the bag, and I don't want you thinking they're the keys to your own private fun time," he comments, wiggling his eyebrows. >Metal tubes as private fun ti- >You take a step back from him upon realization and snort, aghast by the idea. "Don't be a pervert! Fucking sicko!" you shout at him. >He bows as if being applauded, almost losing his balance in the process as he takes a half step to correct himself. >"Shock absorbers for the Trailduster. Leaf springs will still be another week, I think," he finally explains as he stands up straight with a serious face. "You actually went and bought that stuff?" >That was something you expected would be forgotten. >Or something that was meant to be taken as a joke. >"Said I was gonna do it, I'm not going to lie and pretend I didn't. But you're gonna help me replace them, right?" "Absolutely!" >You can't help it, but the fact he remembered and did this thrills you to your core.

>>4073 >Evidently, your excitement is infectious, as a grin spreads over Anon's face. >"I am going to take note that I think this is genuinely the happiest I've ever seen you, and the biggest smile you've ever sported." "Still unsettling?" you shoot back, stretching your grin just a little wider to show off your teeth. >"Maybe not as much. I still wouldn't trust you with my fingers near your mouth, though. "Get back to bed, sicky," you snidely snap back. >He wearily salutes you, and carefully heads back up the stairs. >As he reaches for the doorknob at the top of the landing, your mind shifts back to an earlier dilemma. "Anon, one of the orders is for a Jeep intake, 360 four-barrel. Do we have any of those?" you shout up to him. >"Yeah, should have at least one or two AMC intakes in there," he replies, pointing to the storage room. >You shake your head, confused as to how he misheard you. "Jeep, Anon." >"Yeah, I know - that's my bad for not explaining," he says, rubbing the back of his head. "Jeep was owned by AMC - American Motors Corporation - starting in 1970. AMC and Jeep shared the same engines." "Oh. Alright then," you reply. >"Yeah. Whatever we got down there for AMC intakes, that will work. The intake is the same across the board, from the 304 all the way to the 401. All those engines are virtually the same - same block, cylinder heads, the whole nine yards. Just different bore and stroke combinations." "Well that's awfully convenient," you muse. >"I thought so. Them boys up in Kenosha, Wisconsin had some damn good ideas compared to the Detroit Big Three. At least up until forming an alliance with the French and Renault in the eighties. Damn shame." >With that, he opens the door to the living quarters, stepping in and turning one last time to face you. >"Don't be afraid to ask if you need any help. I'm going to try to get some more sleep and power through this crap," he says. "I'll be fine. Just get better - and don't eat any more expired food, stupid," you lecture him. >"You're no fun," he scoffs, before shutting the door. >Now, back in isolation, you can't help but think... >Maybe having someone that cares isn't so bad after all... -----

>>4074 Thanks for another update. Out of curiosity, what sort of time frame is this story set in I've yet to catch up on the previous updates. Kind of feels like it might be a bit futurish, but maybe that's just because a lot of bootleg stories tend to be that way.

>>4074 I've been wanting to share something regarding this all day, but today was a really long and busy day for me, so I'm only just now getting to this before I head off to bed. Last night, I was engaged in a lucid dreaming session that started to go out of control and become very stressful. I ended up terminating the dream and waking up around 6:30 my time, which was about an hour after you posted this update. I was feeling distressed and didn't want to go immediately back to sleep, because I usually end up resuming dreams when I do that, and I really didn't want to go back to the place I just came from. So I grabbed my phone and went straight to here to see if there were any new posts to do a little light reading, since the dark theme here is easier on the eyes. I've never really read any bootleg stuff, and I don't know the context behind Midnight and the story, but it was an enjoyable read, after which I was able to get another hour of dream-free sleep. None of this really means much beyond that it was comfy to read and helped to clear the mind. Thanks for that.

>>4104 hey friend, most of the activity is still on /mlp/ but im sure auto will be happy about yrou feedback. hope you sleep better, have another comfy bootleg. And stick around because we're in the process of making AQ for what makes bootleg, bootleg easier to understand. SOON™

>>4095 I'd say it's more of a present-day timeline, just based on the simple fact that there has to be a market for old cars, and still old cars available to be collected in a salvage yard. So evern, then, we're taking some liberal steps, if I'm to be honest. 15-20 years ago in the past would be a better fit at minimum, but I'm just rambling at this point. But yeah, present-day alternate reality, since ponebots exist That's not to say that is what Midnight is, mind you - just that they are in existence... >>4104 Thank you, I'm glad to hear it. Believe it or not, it means a lot that I could help you out, even if it just happened to be by chance. >>4105 I'm not sure how many others frequent, but I do try to keep tabs on this place, especially since I decided to post every update that gets put on /mlp/. Last night was awful at work, so I didn't get to check in. Or do any writing. Or take a seat at any point.

>>4109 >it's more of a present-day timeline Neat. >I do try to keep tabs on this place It's nice to see you around and to see your updates here as well.

>>4095 >feels like it might be a bit futurish, but maybe that's just because a lot of bootleg stories tend to be that way. this is due to the original thread, specifically people thought Rare was a robot (she isnt). and then there was Twibot which was lowtech bots but really good so alot of people followed in that footsteps of cheap+fake = robopone in future where waifubots already exist but anon's not rich enough to afford the real deal. we dub this kind of greens the classic bootleg era. But things are still evolving, future stuff will still make an appearance, but there's going to be a lot more variety in the future. flutterfrog >>3530 would be an example

>>4118 You're saying there will be less future stuff in the future? How ironic.

>>4119 kek yeah pretty ironic, the classic bootleg will still stick around and theres gunna be future stuff still im sure but theres plenty of non-future or non bots ideas that people talk about tinkering with like bootleg toystory kind of like how the Dollar Tree short, or the returning stuff that was never bots but got put on the backburner

>>4118 People thought Jacky was a ponebot at the start due to that old mindset. That said, Missy Pie and the other Missy gals are ponebots. And Flutterlime is really just a very hi-tech toy.

>>4148 To be fair, coming in a box and just suddenly springing to life upon removal makes it a fairly reasonable conclusion to draw. I thought that for the initial hundred or so lines. It does become clear that Jacky doesn't fit that mold, though.

>>4150 True. I had always thought that was a good way to ship her, since she was sold as a product. One step below pets because at least they're not stuck. Given what we've seen of Nona and where the dorks came from, it certainly isn't the most legit of business practice. It doesn't help that there are ponebots in that setting. It's easy to believe that there may be some deeper connection there. And I guess we've never seen anything concrete either way.

Hi everyone. For those of you who don't frequent the /mlp/ bootleg thread, I'm the author of Zooma and Condense. I've recently resumed work on Condense and hope to have a new update in a few days, so I figured I'd link to her story in case you want to know what the hell is going on when I post a new section here. https://ponepaste.org/4168

>>4151 The way you did it was perfectly reasonable in mind since, like you said - it was supposed to be a product from a business, no matter how dubious that facade would come to be. I think it added an extra bit of intrigue once things started rolling with getting Sparks and then Prism - but as readers we like to try to connect the dots and form our own conclusions as we go.

>>4154 >try to connect the dots and form our own conclusions as we go I like pushing that. It may seem like it's me being lazy... and to an extent it is, but there are a lot of clues out there that I think are clear if you're looking at things from the right angle. There are a lot of little details that I like seeing that can mean something when piled up; little pebbles that can lead up to a real hill. I think the current Part, with Jacky having dreams of what is her past(?), is going to be pretty important and give some more history to her. At the same time I smile because we already know a lot of her history, it's been such a long time since the story started and she's grown in her own ways. Her finding about her origins matters as much as it does to us; it doesn't really matter and doesn't change who she is now.

>>4156 That's the best way to do it though - make the reader think, get them involved. I like how you've done that thus far. We're also seeing it with Condense, which I'm looking forward to diving into once more, and I'm trying to keep it vague with Midnight, as well. It doesn't have to be something super important as far as a plot point, but it's something with which to engage the reader's imagination and thoughts. Those and heavy feels are what make a particular story stick in my mind. I do try to avoid heavy feels more often than not, since I'm a sensitive little bitch.

>>4153 Very cool.

>>4159 > I do try to avoid heavy feels more often than not, since I'm a sensitive little bitch. and you chose to join the general that specializes in feels?

>>4167 Listen, I didn't choose, it chose me. That and Reggie's influence. Avoid that man - he is crazy. It doesn't really matter where I go, though. When I say sensitive, I mean to the point I've broken down writing my own shit. Blood Moon in /moon/ violated my soul in ways I didn't know were possible.

>>4168 thats fair. bootleg can hit me with inspiration hard too, pretty much no other general has the same effect. i did like bird pones though, short lived as it were wish it would come back

>>4074 >You're pleased to see the number of orders that continue to roll in via email notifications. >It means your initial idea to make a proper ordering form on Anon's website was a strong one. >However, that does mean success may have been well within his own grasp this whole time, had he put an effort forth... >Oh well, his loss. >Maybe you could make a case for taking over the business. >...though you don't know what that would gain you, other than bragging rights. >That doesn't sound too bad. >Regardless of future conquests, the slowly building log of emails has kept you trotting back and forth around the shop when the items are something housed in the storeroom or coincidentally right outside. >There's a fair amount to be done out back, too - you probably won't be able to get it all done today by yourself. >Not a big deal, but it is sort of a personal pride thing. >So, while there's been virtually no activity in terms of walk-ins, it's quite likely that is a result of the shift toward stripping this place of the self-serve moniker. >You spotted people and overheard them taking items that they had no intention of paying for or mentioning to the owner when you still lived in the van. >Well, the owner being Anonymous, of course - but you didn't know his name before. >Nevertheless, keeping your head on a swivel, hiding in the shadows - there's a lot that can be observed living like that. >Even if it can be a bit taxing. >There is something to be said for being that way though - maybe you should keep up on your skills of skulking around unnoticed. >Fate has a way of throwing twists and turns in the path ahead. >Can't be too safe. >Putting thoughts of honing survival tactics aside, you are mildly disappointed to have not had any walk-in customers. >Well, disappointed and a bit relieved, maybe. >You've not really interacted with anyone aside from Anonymous. >So there is some anxiety there. >Your social skills might be a bit lacking... >But fuck it, you can wing it. >Adapt and survive. >However, the few phone calls you received today went well enough, so it isn't like you're completely blind. >They went well aside from mentioning your name, anyway. >That came with some... questions. >'Erm... Midnight? That's an odd name...' >Mentioning your mother had a degree in gender studies rectified the situation fairly quickly. >Thank the stars for Anon's laptop you've basically taken over. >Aside from more automotive knowledge, you've spent a fair amount of time learning and exploring the outside world via the internet. >The perks of living on an abbreviated sleep schedule. >After all, there's only so much you can overhear that allows you to paint a picture of what surrounds you beyond these gates. >The facility certainly didn't offer any information. >You hardly ever got to see the sun. >The last phone call or two, you did decide to use another name, just to avoid the hesitations. >Maddie.

>>4171 >God, you hope Anon didn't hear that. >Hopefully he's been asleep the whole time. >You checked on him once, and he was slumbering in bed. >... the pungent odor that greeted you upon opening the door to the living space told you whatever contents that were ailing his stomach made an evacuation back up at some point into the kitchen sink drain. >Ew. >Hopefully that helps, though. >If he's going to be that stupid and stubborn, you're going to start going through the fridge and throwing leftovers away. >With the silence that pervades while you idly tap away through various internet searches on the computer. >The sound of footsteps outside amidst the dust and gravel reaches your ears. >Your eyes quickly dart to the open garage bay door, a few seconds before a man comes around the corner. >...and he seems vaguely familiar. >Wearing a beat-up denim jacket and with graying hair and mustache, the older gentleman waves as he approaches, apparently unfazed by your appearance. >"Hi - Nightmare Moon?" he asks with a warm smile and a slight foreign drawl to his words. >But more significantly, you tense up upon hearing that name. >You obviously aren't wearing a nametag - and you aren't Nightmare Moon. "Hello, can I help you with something?" you ask, pretending to be oblivious to anything other than his initial greeting. >"Yeah, looking for some more parts - I don't have the time to pull em myself today, so I was wondering if I could just request em for pickup later?" "We can do that - what are you looking for?" >While you bring up the inventory catalog on the computer screen, you keep a watchful eye on your guest. >Maybe you're being paranoid, but he seems too comfortable... >"Where's your buddy at? I'm surprised to see you attending the counter," muses the customer, attempting to make idle chat as he scans the building. "He's around. Stepped out for a bit. What was it you needed?" >"Sorry. Uh... well, I need a radiator fan shroud, first of all, a heater box if you got one in decent shape." "For what kind of car?" >Your voice comes out a little rough, but you can't help it as your heart rate speeds up. >He at least knows your basis, and he's trying to chat nonchalantly. >...which is probably better than freaking out about seeing you. >Chill out, girl. >"Oh, duh. I'd forget my head if it could unscrew," he replies with a chuckle, slapping his forehead. "1972 Cutlass." >That particular car jumpstarts your memory - Anon helped this guy a few weeks ago, while you were coincidentally tearing down an Oldsmobile engine. >It made you speak up, in case the stars had aligned and he needed some of the parts you were in the midst of disassembling. >...and then Anon referred to you as a guard dog. >You never did pay him back for that, even if it was a spur-of-the-moment attempt to cover for you. >That fucker. >Regardless of past unavenged transgressions, you breathe a small sigh of relief as you connect the dots - this man has seen you before. >Here.

>>4172 "Alright. Anon hasn't done a very good job keeping everything tidy on this computer, so just give me a second," you explain. >More or less, you're just checking to see if that shroud is stashed away inside here... >And it is not. >Worth a try. >Instead, you bring up a document form to jot down everything that he needs quickly, followed by the year and model. "Name for this?" >"Theodore. But everyone just calls me Teddy," he says, leaning on the counter. "I take it you don't go by Nightmare?" >You look over at him after typing his name. >You still remain a bit wary. >Does he really need to know your name? >He seems nice enough... >So many different thoughts go through your head now in regards to your safety, now that you're interacting with strangers. >Face to face. >Of course, you did earlier today taking that delivery, but Anon was down here... >...and what, you can't protect yourself? >Going to rely on him to keep you safe and warm? >Grow a fucking spine. "Midnight," you tell him, garnering a nod of acknowledgment. >"That's a nice name," he compliments, leaning in just a bit more. "You aren't a custom model though, are you?" >The hushed question makes your blood run cold. "What would make you say that?" >"I don't mean anything by it," he says in an attempt to reassure you. "I've just seen my fair share of ponies and bots. You're a different breed entirely." >He says it so calmly and nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. >But his conviction is solid. "Is there a point to this rambling? I have other things to do," you sharply reply, eager to be rid of this man and this sudden shift in conversation. >Your unwanted acquaintance just chuckles. >"You've got spirit, and that's something that can't just be made from circuits. Look, I'm not here to harass you or out you - I assume you aren't... verified." "Then why are you here?" you challenge. >Teddy stands up straight once again. >"I do actually need those parts. I'm retired... mostly," he replies, unaffected by your cold tone. "I don't want to go into too much detail as I'm clearly getting off on the wrong foot, but I do want to say that you aren't the only one of your kind - though you're more advanced than any other I've encountered. Where did you come from?" "The backseat of a first-gen Dodge Caravan. Turbocharged, no less," you spitefully hiss, making sure to bare your weaponized dental work for him to see. >It doesn't really seem to affect Theodore at all. >He doesn't flinch in any way. >You don't trust this guy for a second. >He's asking a lot of questions for someone interested in vintage car parts. >Even Anon was scared shitless by your appearance and threats upon first meeting. >Not this guy. >This Theodore, or Teddy fellow - if that's what his name even is - finds you intriguing, if anything. >He was hardly deterred upon your initial meeting, either, come to think of it. >You were just distracted and paid no mind. >But this doesn't feel right at all.

>>4173 >A thought crosses your mind, one that you have to wrestle back down with every fiber of logic... >After all, you could make this a non-issue with any sort of sharp metallic piece of scrap... >He wouldn't see it coming aside from the slight glow of your eyes. >Or if need be, you could go for his windpipe. >It would be nothing for your canines and incisors to pierce his throat... >No. >Nothing good will come of that in the long-term picture. >Someone will come looking for him, no matter how well you hide your tracks. >You can't kill him, Midnight. >"I suppose I deserve your skepticism, Midnight, I'm sorry for upsetting you," Teddy apologizes. "I'll be back in a few days to get those parts. You probably want my phone number, don't you? For the order?" "For the order," you repeat. >He rattles off a series of numbers, which you seamlessly transfer to the keyboard. >"Hopefully next time, your buddy - Anonymous, yeah? The business owner?" >You slowly nod, keeping your wits about you in case he tries something funny. >The fact that Anon's name is mentioned only tenses you further. >You don't want to kill. >But you will if need be. >Any threat to Anonymous is a threat to you. >"Hopefully he's around as well as you when I return. Assuming he's a nice fellow. Does he treat you well?" "I can take care of myself, thank you very much." >That gets a cheeky grin from Teddy as he lightly slaps the counter. >"Anyway, I might be able to help you and Anonymous. Or just you, if this place and he aren't to your liking. You have my number - and I'll be back in a few days otherwise." >With a wave, he heads back out into the sun of the afternoon. >You give it a few moments before dropping to all fours on the floor, making yourself low to the concrete. >Silently, you make your way toward the open garage door from which Teddy just departed. >It's all muscle memory from here. >Every step, every movement is calculated and purposeful. >Just like months ago, when hunting vermin. >You might be doing just that right now. >Reaching the doorframe, you pause and listen intently for any sounds indicating something that lies on the other side. >You catch the sound of a door opening, followed shortly thereafter by the slight creak of springs meeting a new weight before the door slams shut. >Even with the characteristic sounds of the mysterious man getting into his vehicle, you carefully poke your head out from beyond the frame, enough to catch a glimpse of what you can see of the parking area. >Beyond the privacy fence, you hear an engine start up, quickly proceeded by spying a weathered Chevy pickup amble away from the open gate and out to the road. >You manage to glimpse the graying hair and a bit of a denim jacket in the windows to give you some semblance of assurance the coast is clear. >Despite that, you still watch the truck leave properly until it's out of sight. >You honestly don't know what to make of the encounter, especially after his farewell address.

>>4174 >What could he possibly help with - whether it be you and Anon, or you alone? >It's unsettling that he made you out for something far beyond your traditional ponybot. >Are you that obvious from just a glance? >Visually, it shouldn't be a difference, perhaps the mannerisms a bit, but... >He certainly knows more than just 'having been around a fair share.' >Furthermore... >Are there really others? >Of course, there were the remnants of those that you rode with to this destination, but those were basically parts, pieces, and experimental normal models. >You don't recall any others like you... >The thought is troubling. >The thoughts regarding this whole encounter and the ensuing conversation are troubling. >You dismissed Anon's concerns about your well-being earlier today. >You aren't so sure of yourself now... -----

>>4159 >make the reader think You gotta. I think so, anyway. I still pretty much just write as I go, there isn't much in the way of more broader/longterm planning. I suppose I'm writing the sort of things I would enjoy reading. I also can't divorce from the heavy feels, I know them far too well. It's the sort of hurt I'd rather be able to feel than not.

https://w2g.tv/rooms/ajikxa2kvtxdodvjlf?lang=en Since it's Friday night, here's a hangout place. Lot of people writing their greens or talking about writing so it might be a good time to chat up some stuff.

>>4175 Thanks for another update Auto.

it's been asked on recommended stuff for bootleg newfriends. this is part 1 which is where the old stigma comes from, but there's still a lot of good stuff in here even if a good chunk is sad.

>>4230 Looks like it's starting to come together.

>>4175 > For the first time today since initially waking up, you feel somewhat healthy. >You are never eating chicken bacon ranch pizza again. >Maybe it was too old - doesn't really matter. > It's ruined for you now. >After essentially sleeping the whole day away aside from rushing to the sink to upchuck twice and getting up to use the bathroom downstairs once, you decide you feel well enough to try to put some sort of food in your stomach. >Toast is on the menu. >Whoopee. >You haven't seen Midnight since taking a shower earlier. >At some point during the day - possibly while emptying your stomach - you recall hearing Midnight on the phone. >Apparently she decided to adopt a new name for the occasion. >Maddie will certainly enjoy you giving her shit for that. >Or perhaps Middie... >The other time you headed downstairs was well into the afternoon - the computer was off. >More than likely, the slow day never got better, and she went out back to strip parts early. >Though not knowing for certain was a bit unsettling. >She's resourceful - you've seen it firsthand. >You shouldn't really be that worried. >Still have that uneasy feeling in your stomach though. >Aside from nausea, obviously. >Approaching six in the evening now, you would expect her to pop in sometime soon. >Maybe - with as stubborn and as driven as she is, you're well aware of the possibility of Midnight trying to hero her way through the whole list of orders in one shot. >You glimpsed outside - the Trailduster isn't in its usual spot. >She's moved it a few times, it doesn't come as a surprise she would have enough comfort and confidence to take it. >Ha, comfort. >Probably not the best term for it, considering she bitched about how unergonomic the seating position was for her. >...she didn't think that comment through too well. >Of course, you gave her shit for it. >And you got it right back. >A wonderful circle of love. >With the volume of the tv turned down low and awaiting the toaster in the kitchen to pop, you finally hear the sound of the old war wagon rolling up to the building. >It allows you to finally relax, before jumping in surprise. >Fucking toaster. >Waiting for it this whole time, and the bastard still caught you off-guard when it popped. >Now feeling the mild shame and embarrassment for being caught out once again by the cursed appliance, you begrudgingly fetch your toast from it and toss the slices onto a paper plate, wandering back to the couch. >As much as you're glad Midnight is back, it's best to give her space. >She was clearly taking a lot of pride flying solo today, let her have it until she heads up here. >It will probably be a bit, offloading parts from the back of the SUV. >That being said, you stretch out on the couch, using the whole length that would otherwise be shared with you two occupying either end - buffer space in between.

>>4252 >Pleasantly, there are some reruns of the Dukes of Hazzard playing right now. >...brings a tear to your eye too. >They went through a lot of Dodge Chargers and Plymouth Fury cop cars. >Not to mention Daisy's Plymouth Roadrunner... >Still, the end result was entertaining. >Much to your surprise, you hear the doorknob of the door in the kitchen click open just as you take a nibble of food. >You quickly turn your head in time to see the door swing open and Midnight trot in. "Hi Middie!" you shout. >While not surprised by your voice, the name certainly gets her attention. >Her initial wide-eyed response narrows into one of mild annoyance, exhaling rather sharply through her flared nostrils. >"You fucking ass." >She kicks the door shut with plenty of force to spare. "Hey, easy on the hardware now. That comes out of your pay if you break it," you jokingly scold. >"Good thing you don't pay me. How long have you been up?" she asks while sauntering her way toward you. "Not long. Not even an hour, I don't think," you reply with a shrug. "How long were you out in the yard?" >"Few hours. I called it quits around two or three in the afternoon, at least when it came to standing at the counter looking pretty. "You do pretty a lot better than me." >"I didn't take you as one of those creepy freaks that sexes up pony companions, that's new," she snidely muses. "Maybe you aren't a pickle smoocher like I expected." >You quickly regret your smart comment as your face grows hot. >"Oh, seemed to have touched a nerve." "Shut up." >"That's what you get for the name." >Spreading out a wing, she motions for you to scoot over. "Nuh-uh, I just got comfortable," you half-heartedly argue before obliging her request. >You merely bend your knees and scoot back toward your normal cushion, taking up some of the usual buffer space. >You really were starting to get comfortable. >She gets to deal with your legs and feet invading that space. >Midnight plops down in her usual spot, though facing you rather than draping her forehooves off of the front of the couch. >While she eyes your dinner plate in your hands, it's with only passing curiosity. >She looks tired. >To be fair, you would expect it - this is probably the most she's ever done in one day, aside from overexerting herself on the first day of moving that pile of engines. >That drained look in her eyes goes deeper than mere physical fatigue. "Today go okay?" you ask, trying to mask any concern from seeping into your voice while shifting your eyes back to the tv. >You've learned playing it casual will get your farther - just playing it off as idle conversation. >"It was quiet. Got quite a bit done - as much as I could while inside and manning the phones and counter." "Great - sounds like you're more productive than I am." >"Doesn't that go without saying?" she jests. "Man, you're cutting deep on a sick man. That's cold," you prod back as you shoot a glance at her. >"Truth hurts sometimes."

>>4253 >The exchange at least puts a little bit of light in her eyes, but she just feels off. >Distracted. "You didn't deal with any rude assholes today or crappy situations, did you?" >"That's sort of an odd question to ask, isn't it?" Midnight suggests. "Maybe. But you didn't instantly reply with no, either." >Her muzzle scrunches up a bit with your reply, realizing you caught her out. >But, she does relax that tense response - you don't think she will completely shut down. >"There wasn't anything 'bad,' I suppose," she reluctantly admits. "Okay. But something that wasn't particularly comfortable?" >Your attention is completely drawn to her now, whether you and her like it or not. >You can't help but watch as her eyes shift back and forth as she mulls her response as if visually picking out her words. >"Do you... it's been a couple of weeks, but do you remember that guy that came in for parts for a Cutlass? Older man, the same day you started asking... questions about me." "You mean the day you chipped a good chunk out of my brick wall by chucking a piston at it? Yeah, I remember," you chide >"You called me a guard dog, dickhead," she adds sourly. "Apologized for it, too - but anyway, yes, I remember," you reply, quickly trying to get this train back on the rails. >"He came back today," she blurts. "Isn't... that a good thing? Repeat customers?" you ask, utterly perplexed by the significance. >Midnight's wings ruffle in tune with her discomfort as she stares down at the couch cushion she lays upon. >"He did come in for more parts, at least initially." >The way she says that makes you sit up and take notice. "Did he do something to you?" >"What? No. I can handle myself, Anon," Midnight quickly snaps back as her gaze momentarily flips to you. >You relax a bit, but still feel a little concerned. "Then what, Midnight?" >"He knows what I am. He knew I wasn't a custom model, he knows I'm not verified, and he said he knows more that are like me, because he's been around his fair share of bots, and he knows I'm not one. He could tell just by looking at me, listening to me - said I was more advanced than any other he's seen, and said he could... 'help'." >It all comes out in a cascade of frenzied words and pent-up anxiety, to the point that you need a moment for your brain to sort it out. >Someone else knowing she doesn't have an RFID chip on her chassis is very troubling. >But you're lost on the rest. >She said she was a bot. >You would expect there to be experimental models and shit, and that's what Midnight is. >Right? "Midnight, what do you mean by he knows what you are? I don't follow - I get that the missing RFID is a big deal, but I don't see the significance of... all that." >She shakes her head fervently. >"I don't want to talk about it." "It's obviously bothering the hell out of you - and I don't think you need to be carrying that baggage." >Midnight continues to trying staring a hole into the couch. >You've had enough of it.

>>4254 >Leaning forward, you reach out with a hand and gently place it under her chin, directing her to look at you. >The gesture makes Midnight jump, though the surprise of it makes her momentarily yield to the pressure quite easily. >"What the fuck are you doing?!" she shouts defiantly upon regaining her wits, pulling away from you. "Midnight, I can't help you if I don't know what's going on - talk to me." >"I can't!" "Do you trust me?" >The question freezes her instantly. >Those faintly glowing eyes remain locked upon you. >Like a window to her mind, you feel like you can see the trouble and turmoil within she's fighting to keep wrested away from you. "Midnight, I know you're strong, I know you think you need to deal with - whatever shit you got going on - alone." >"I ca-" "Don't tell me you can't. You delved into my personal bullshit, got me sorted out - I'm doing the same for you. Do you trust me?" >"I'm a freak!" she roars, her voice suddenly ragged. "I'm not a pony companion bot, I'm a genetic science project sideshow!" "I... what?" >Between Midnight's abrupt shift in demeanor and the words she spouts, it's all you can respond with right now. >"I don't have an RFID because I don't have a chassis - I'm not a robot... not completely." "Well... what's wrong with that?" you speak up. > Midnight's eyes begin to glisten with moisture as the pain slowly begins to escape her. >"Do you know what it's like to be a group of arrogant asshole's off-the-books bioengineering project? Do you know how humiliating it is to find out your perverted birth was in a giant test tube? How that experiment in itself is not only prohibited by law, but they managed to fuck up the coloring in their attempts to create a living, breathing Luna, sans wings?" >Midnight chokes back her tears as best she can, while you inch closer to her. >"Already a fuck up beyond the bio-pony experiments ongoing in secret - those are dumb as mud, but at least the colors are right on the ones thus far. Why not go further with this one? Jam some wires and chips from a couple of discarded Twilight and Luna bots, try to put some intelligence and personality in this retarded animal, and if it lives more than a day or two, that's a bonus, right?" >The torrent of words she viciously spouts is slowly beginning to be matched by the liquid sorrow that runs down her cheeks. >"That's all I ever was - a test subject! Crudely dyed wings grafted on from the unpopular Princess Twilight bot because they couldn't genetically engineer proper wings, the electromagnetism, the eyes to fit the theme, the teeth and digestive system for better efficiency - am I supposed to be proud of that?! Being a mishmash of rejects and junk?!" "You're alive, aren't you?" you remind her. >Midnight stops her rant, quivering after the stress of her outburst. >"And that's good," she states bitterly.

>>4255 "I think so. You obviously felt it was good - otherwise, you wouldn't have escaped, right? You felt your life was worth protecting." >She doesn't say anything as her breath hitches repeatedly. >With as downtrodden and utterly defeated as she looks right now, you take your chances. >Seeing the facade of this tough-as-nails mare crumble to dust is just too much. >You scoot up next to her and take her into your arms. >"Why?" >She asks the question but doesn't resist you. >You stroke the fine fur of her neck, feeling the pain and anxiety deeply seated in those lean muscles that she continues to fight to keep inside... >You can see in those misty blue eyes, she sees herself with shame. >She hates what she is. >Even as she crowed about how great she was - it was all a lie to herself, to convince herself that's how she felt. >And she fears what you think of her. >By the sounds of it, she wasn't even expected to live. >Yet here she is. "Midnight, what you are - what your make-up is or whatever you want to call it - I don't care," you tell her, trying to alleviate her concern. "You got out, you survived, and I'm grateful for that." >"Did I make it out? Because it feels like I'm still trapped. Like my past is still pursuing me," she spits out in a half sob. "Then anyone out for you is gonna have to go through both of us. This guy, if he's bad news, he's got a fight in his hands if he tries something. I promise you that," you reassure her. "You're here now, unfucking the mess that I've made. You're making this your home, and you're going to fight for it with the same grit and determination you've been displaying to me since I met you." >You brush away some of her tears that have continued to gather under her eyes. >With a slight nod, her resolve hardens, honing in on your words and your promise to her. "You're not a mess of discarded parts and gene manipulation or whatever - you're better than that. I don't see that. I see Midnight in front of me, and that's all you should worry about." >Midnight emits a sharp exhale of amusement amidst the occasional sniffle as she wrangles herself under control. >"That was really fucking corny. You know that, right?" she mumbles. "I'm a simple man. I cut to the chase, even if it isn't very elegant or original. But I'm not saying anything I don't mean." >Much to your surprise, she leans into your petting a bit as you keep up your physical reassurance that what she is doesn't matter to you. >If anything, it's even more amazing. >And horrifying, depending on how ruthless these people were while doing "modifications" for the sake of science. >She certainly doesn't make it sound very kind. >Fucking hell, this world can be evil. "We'll get the parts this guy needs tomorrow, try to nip this whole situation as quickly as possible if we can contact him to pick up. I'll be there with you, alright? I know you can handle this but..." >"Moral support," she suggests.

>>4256 "I'm moral support. You said he mentioned 'helping,' any idea what that meant?" >You only get a negative shake of the head in response. "Got a name?" >"Theodore - 'Teddy' is supposedly what everyone calls him." > It's a long shot, but maybe you can find something online about this guy. >You feel a bit anxious now as well, but you aren't going to let that stop you from protecting this mare with every last ounce of strength if need be. >Via 'moral support,' of course. >That's fine. >Midnight is strong - far stronger than you gave her credit for. ----- That was not a fun update to push through - I knew it wouldn't be, once I reached it. Probably the reason I couldn't sleep.

>>4257 >sad pony ^:( But thanks for keeping us in the loop. At least Midnight seems better put together than someone like Rare, hopefully she will remain so.

Something much lighter than the end of the last update. >>4257 >Well, is it really that surprising to find nothing? >Having slept virtually the whole day away, sleep tonight really wasn't an option. >So much of the overnight hours have been spent slaving over Midnight's laptop, trying to find some clues as to this mysterious man named Theodore. >You hardly get to use this thing anymore - for all intents and purposes, this computer is now hers. >Speaking of Midnight, you had her sleep in your room tonight, since you knew you wouldn't be using it. >You rather be out in the living room to have the tv on for background noise, even if it was turned way down. >And you want Midnight to get some truly restful sleep after unleashing her burden. >You didn't tell her that, but she likely felt you were taking pity on her anyways. >Hence her reluctance - but you insisted. > It's only after she calmed down and eventually retired to bed for the night you could absorb what she told you. >You feel sick - and not because of the remnants of your battle with food poisoning today. >How in the hell can anyone justify hacking up a living being for their own personal gain, or in the pursuit of "science?" >No wonder Midnight is so maladjusted. >How she's even functional is... >Amazing. >The mental image of her eyes being literally scooped out to be replaced with something artificial to fit a theme or aesthetic... >Man, it's probably good you emptied your stomach earlier today. >How the hell long did she even have to endure that misery? >Going through that, you doubt she wanted to keep track of time even if she could. >You certainly aren't going to ask her. >What Midnight already shared was too much. >Now, having escaped that and being able to live an even vaguely normal life... >You can't help but feel a lump form in your throat. >It takes a moment for that to pass without letting it go any further, aside from a bit of dust irritating your eyes. >But she's not out of the woods yet with this fellow poking his nose where it doesn't belong. >Even if he coincidentally could just tell from looking at her she wasn't a bot, you wouldn't expect anyone to just casually bring it up like Midnight described. >There's more to it than that - that's a certainty. >First instincts tell you this guy works for EquisCo, assuming that is indeed from where Midnight escaped. >Could be they still want her back for more fun with their macabre science project. >Over your dead fucking body. >Maybe they just want to erase her from existence, to avoid getting caught doing illegal genetic experiments. >You have the same feelings about this as your previous theory. >Keeping up on the news isn't something you bother to do, so much of what you hear is just offhand. >Been at least a few years, but you vaguely recall a whole debate about "engineering" pets or something like that. >Never heard the conclusion of that, but according to Midnight, it's illegal.

>>4397 >You're inclined to believe her - though you don't know how she knows that. >Could be like you - just happened to overhear it during everything going on. >But Midnight also mentioned he wanted to help... >If he's been in the business of - pony-making? >Sort of a weird field, now that you think of it. >Regardless - there is always the chance he legitimately wants to assist Midnight with her predicament. >Especially since he apparently knows of others like her. >What he means by "others like her" is left up to the imagination for now. >First and foremost, he is a legitimate customer - he put in an order, and you will fulfill it. >What comes after that comes down to true intentions... >"Are you seriously still up?" >You practically jump about a foot in the air off of your seat with the sudden quip from Midnight. >As you turn around, you jump again, finding her snout mere inches from your face. >Her bemused grin only grows wider with your second near heart attack. "Damn, are you trying to kill me?!" you shout in exasperation. >"More or less curious if I still have my sneaking skills properly honed. I'd say so, judging by those reactions I got," she explains calmly. "I'll put a bell on you if you keep pulling that shit," you taunt her. >"I'd like to see you try," she dares. >Midnight casually walks around the sofa, taking her normal seat. >That doesn't last too long, as intrigue over the laptop you're holding draws her to scoot closer to you. >"I thought you were trying to take pity on me, and you've really been up pounding the keyboard, haven't you?" she asks, trying to make out what you have in the search bar. >You delete it quickly, just to fuck with her - and give her a smarmy grin when she looks up at you with disappointment. >"I can handle whatever you're trying to find," she mutters. "I'm sure you can - but I've come up empty on our mystery man, anyway," you admit. "And of course I'm still up, I slept all damn day - I might sleep for a couple of hours before work, but I don't need any more than that. Why the hell are you up?" >"Not needing sleep was a lie, but I don't need much of it," she replies. "A few hours here or there is about all I do. Tonight though, that was probably the longest I've slept in... " >She trails off, looking up at the clock while pondering her answer. >It's almost three in the morning now - and she retired to your room at a quarter till ten. >Five hours, at most. >Damn. "Habit from keeping an eye open for danger?" you suggest. >It garners a nod from Midnight. >"Old habits die hard. But it goes a bit beyond that time frame - I just have a hard time... shutting my brain off, I guess. Relaxing." "Do... you think it's because of..." >You have to stop yourself from going further into explanation, instead tapping the side of your head with a finger. >Midnight sighs as she stares at you. >No, more like beyond you.

>>4398 >"Probably. My memory isn't that great with anything before then - very fuzzy," she explains quietly, keeping that same far-off gaze. "Twilight bots are known to be quite high-strung, always looking to learn something new." "And that's one of the chips, I'm assuming?" >"Mmhmm." "I probably shouldn't be asking this shit, sorry," you apologize, suddenly feeling quite guilty about opening up this wound again. >"It's funny, normally I would berate you for digging," she muses, cocking her head as her eyes focus on you once again. "Why aren't you?" >"Feel like a weight got pulled off of my shoulders earlier tonight. Don't get me wrong, I will flay you if you turn into an soft little bitch, and don't expect me to be an emotional cuddlebug-" >"But it felt good to tell your plight to someone else," you finish for her. >"Yes." "At least let me say I'm sorry you had to go through all that. Can't imagine it." >"I appreciate it - but again, don't make this all mushy," she instructs. "What's your plan going forward in regards to this 'Teddy?'" >You have to just shrug instinctively, which causes Midnight to frown. >"That's not reassuring," she says in a flat tone. "Well, I'm not going to just lie to you - there is literally nothing I can find of anyone named Theodore or Teddy who's a renowned scientist or mad genius. It would probably be easier if I had a last name, but even then, no guarantees. For all intents and purposes, this is just your average guy that may or may not have been involved with the line of work that dabbles in making bots or..." >"Making things like me." "Beings like you. Not things. Have a little more respect for yourself - remember how you pushed yourself as this image of a superior being before," you encourage her. >"Well, I *am* better than you, but that goes without saying," she jabs. "Now hold on there, that wasn't what I meant," you snap, playing up the facade as being offended. >"Perhaps not, but the point still stands. I'm turning around your business, aren't I?" "I suppose," you pout. "But anyway, you and I are gonna get the parts for that order tomorrow, and I'll give him a call to notify him - maybe see if I can't get him to talk about what this is all about." >"And if he doesn't?" "Wait for him to pick up the parts - he said when he did, he'd talk to you, right?" >"Yeah." >Midnight's lack of enthusiasm makes it clear she doesn't like what you're laying out. >But you certainly can't just crucify the guy for knowing something. >There aren't really any options. >You know Midnight understands. >But it certainly throws her back into an uncomfortable situation, and for good reason. "Don't stress about it - I mean it when I say I got your back. Remember that," you reassure her, going to pat her on the side. >Midnight is keenly aware of your movement, and eyes you disapprovingly. "Sorry," you apologize while pulling your hand back. "So you're really done sleeping?"

>>4399 >"Yep. And I'm not going to listen to your alarm go off two or three times before you get your ass up in the morning, so call it a night," she instructs. "Fine. What are you gonna do?" >Midnight merely points a hoof to the laptop that rests upon your legs. "Gee, what a surprise," you say with a huff, setting it down in front of her. >"Oh shut up and get to bed already. And you better not be sick tomorrow when you get up." "Man, I hope not. I'm not even going to joke about that," you reply, rising up to your feet and stretching. "You want the lights on, or nah?" >"I'll get them at some point," she says dismissively, already beginning to delve into information on the screen in front of her. "Alright then. G'night." >you shuffle off to your room. >"Hey Anon?" "Hm?" >You turn around. >Midnight sits upright on the couch facing you, her forelegs draped over the back of the furniture. >"Thank you for listening to my bullshit," she says solemnly. >You wave your hand, reminded back to when you said the same thing to her. "I figure it comes with the territory of having someone to help me out with this place. Don't worry about it." >The response surprises Midnight at first before the realization hits her. >She grins, just wide enough to show her canines. >"G'night, doofus." >That's about the nicest thing she's ever called you. >How cute. -----

>>4400 I know Midnight might not be keen on it but I do hope she gets a hug at some point.

https://boards.4channel.org/mlp/thread/37597247#p37621741 Been writing moar Jack.

Do you love Mare?

>>4469 Yes, this one in particular.

>>4469 That's why I'm here.

>>4469 I sure do.

>>4469 What do you think shed be like? There was one bit about her having a heavy italian accent.

I agree with anon from cereal mares thread on /mlp/ >I feel the same way you do. Not so much that there's anything wrong with mac and cheese, but because someone came up with that unicorn on the box and her life will be unfulfilled; >there will be no stories written about her and she will end up in the trash as soon as the macaroni is poured out of the box. >Best case scenario here is that her image manipulated you into buying that box vs. the one on the shelf next to it. It feels dirty. Can we do something for poor marketing mares?

>>4400 "Holy shit, you did all of this yesterday?!" >Midnight doesn't reply, but with the way she holds her head and puffs her chest out, she's basking in your shock. >You managed to get a little bit of sleep last night - but again, you really didn't need it. >A quick breakfast later, and the two of you set out to empty the back of the Trailduster. >Midnight wasn't kidding when she said a lot of backlogged orders were knocked out. >"There might have been a couple of items that were in the back before I started yesterday, but other than that - all me." >You don't know if she was trying to be humble, or just gloat further. >She failed at the former, but you will let her have this victory. >Regardless, the ass end of the Trailduster is legitimately sagging from all of the weight in the back. >Sure, the shocks and springs are worn out, but this is still a rare sight. "Guess we have our morning planned out - see if we can't get all this packed up and ready to ship." >A few parts shuffle about on top of the pile, before levitating out lazily to the counter. > It's only now as you round the corner to get started sorting this stuff out that you see the pile of boxes off to the side ready for shipping. "Wait, you did this, too?" you ask, turning back around to face Midnight. >"I started on it - that's not all of them, though." >Jesus, she's really shown you up. >That really isn't hard to accomplish when you spend your free time fucking around on the internet. >You'll take this as a lesson. >She's got good reason to take pride in yesterday. >Let her gloat if she wants. >At least a little bit. >After booting up your computer, you start going through orders, matching up names and addresses with parts laid out in front of you, double-checking with the packing slips Midnight has already placed within each box. >All looks good thus far. >You've shown her a little bit of what you do - the rest must just come with observing you and connecting the dots. >As much as she protested in the beginning about how little you mattered in her mind, you always caught her watching what you do. >It was a little creepy at first, you won't lie. >Figured it was something to do with her programming, being a robot and all. >That's out the window. >Sorta. "So, did you actually get all this accomplished because you were bored, trying to get ahead of the game, or just to show me up, Middie?" >"Are you seriously going to start using that name?" she whines, halting her unloading for a moment to stare at you. "Aww, come on, it's cute," you tease. >"In case you hadn't noticed, I don't do cute," she snorts. >As she has done in the past to prove her point, she bares her teeth and pins her ears back - while fanning out her wings, as if preparing to leap and savagely attack. "What would you do if I said that was cute?" you press on, enjoying where this train of stupidity is heading. >That makes her hesitate.

>>4480 >"Then I'd have to assume there's something very wrong with you mentally," she replies, dropping her act. "I figured there was. Huh, guess that proves it," you shrug, getting back to packing up parts. >"How did you even catch wind of that?" she asks. "What, 'Maddie'? I don't really know, yesterday is sort of a blur. Probably one of the few times I was up. I'll give you props - I'm assuming there was questions about your real name?" >She nods. >"It was annoying to have to explain it every time, so I just came up with something. I was afraid you would run with it if you overheard me." "Luckily I'm not doing that - I called you 'Middie,' which conveniently can be a shortened nickname for 'Midnight'." >"Uh-huh. Even though there's the same amount of syllables?" she challenges, as another wave of parts is heaved onto your counter. "It's fewer letters," you point out. >Midnight stomps a hoof, though it appears more out of playing along than actual frustration. >Her face has lightened up - to the point you see the ends of her mouth barely ticking upward. >"That doesn't matter when you're *saying* it!" she cries. "Alright, I'll go back to 'Turbo.' How does that sound, Turbo?" >Her muzzle scrunches up at that nickname almost instantly. >"Fine. Never utter that stupid name again, and you can use Middie - *sparingly*," she replies, making sure to emphasize her point. "Works for me, Middie." >"Smartass." >After the stress of yesterday, even the slightest return to normalcy and banter is a welcome feeling. >...that's sort of odd to think, with the journey you've been on for close to a month now. "So I take it the stuff you didn't get to yesterday afternoon is heavier shit?" >"I wouldn't say that - after all, I proved to you I could lift a whole engine, didn't I? Repeatedly?" "You did, and then you ran out of juice." >"Hence why I picked my battles," she explains, looking just a bit ashamed of her folly you just brought up. "Hey, at least you learned that just because you can, doesn't mean you should, yeah?" >You hear Midnight chuckle. >"Listen to you trying to pass out nuggets of wisdom," she chides. "Every once in a while I got something remotely intelligent to share that isn't car-related," you argue. >"True. I'll give you that - you know a lot of silly little things about cars," Midnight muses, halting her progress to trot over. >She rears up and rests her hooves on the countertop, inspecting how your side of the job is going. >"The other half of what I didn't accomplish was parts and pieces I was unfamiliar with," she adds, casually looking over a distributor as it twists and turns within the invisible force she wields. "Trim pieces?" >Again, she nods in affirmation.

>>4481 "Yeah, depending on the car and what particular pieces they are, that can be a miserable task, I don't blame you there. I know you ran through every manual I have - but unless it's drivetrain or running gear related, they can be rather vague, especially when it comes to little shit like that." >"Just comes with experience I'm assuming?" "Pretty much. Sometimes you find a neat little trick that works just by screwing up a time or two. Some pieces are just going to be a lesson in misery every time to try to remove it - like drip edge molding around the windows." >Midnight's ears perk up at the last bit. >"Oh, what a coincidence - that happens to be one of the orders I didn't complete!" Midnight exclaims, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Aw piss - guess you get to see how awful that job is. Glad you didn't tackle that one, otherwise that would be either a twisted mess or a car flipped over." >"And what would you base that assumption on?" she demands, suddenly not finding this conversation so amusing as she slightly bristles from your criticism. "The first few days of you tearing apart motors in the shop," you remind her. >"And I improved on reeling in my frustration, did I not?" "You did. I'm just fucking with you. Mostly." >"Mostly, huh?" she repeats, seemingly unamused. "Well I suppose, in that case, you'll have to forgive me if I do somehow lose my temper and try to flip a car over." >"No, you won't," you say, crossing your arms. >"Oh? And why would that be?" she challenges, standing up just a little bit higher and straightening her next as she grins even more mischievously. "Are you going to tell me no? Step in and stop me?" "I'll pet you," you quietly warn. >Her arrogance and taunting instantly falter at the same time you manage to wipe that smile off her face. >"You wouldn't dare." "I would." >You quickly reach toward her with a hand to demonstrate. >She recoils quickly in reaction, but not before nipping at the air near your outstretched fingers. "Oh no, we aren't done here," you say, stepping around the corner while you keep a straight face. >"Anon, I swear, don't you-" >You reach over toward her in a deft movement, but she merely sidesteps with surprising agility, ending up behind you while you grasp for thin air. >"I said stop it, you dumb bastard." >You feel something small and solid smack off the back of your head. "Ow," you grimace, rubbing the back of your head while trying to locate the item that clatters across the floor. >A small rusted bolt finally loses its momentum and stops, spinning for just a brief moment. >"I warned you," Midnight sasses. >You turn, finding her now reared up and resting on the other side of the counter where you were moments ago. >Once again, that same lazy, devious smirk lines her face, while her raised brows offer an air of confident nonchalance. >She offers you a shrug as your eyes meet hers. "Touche," you relent. "But I don't think you had to throw that."

>>4482 >"That's a matter of opinion - I could have thrown it harder," she jests. "Please don't - I don't want to find out you can put a hole clean through my head. That would be messy," you reply, the pain having subsided as you drop your arms back to your sides. >Midnight chuckles. >"Oh, that's the issue you have with it," she muses. "I really wouldn't have any issue with it since - you know, I'd probably be dead." >At once, Midnight's face grows cold as she stops laughing. "Uh, you okay?" you ask, unsure what suddenly has her tripped up. >"Let's not joke about that," she replies quietly. "...what, death? Wasn't that what you were just joking about pointing out my issue with-" >"I know what I said. That was my mistake," she admits, sounding rather uncomfortable. "I didn't think about it." "Alright then, sorry," you manage, dumbstruck by the bizarre shift in tone. >You'd rather not deal with an awkward silence, so you ready the self-deprecation humor. "To be honest though, I have a pretty thick skull - I don't think you could do much damage," you announce, as if proud of the implications. >It gets the desired result, Midnight perking up just a bit. >"I don't doubt it," she retorts. >Mission accomplished. >... you don't know why that was your mission in the first place. >Of course, you don't want it to just resort to the pall that has hung in the air since last night's discussion and what lies ahead in that respect. >But... >Going to bed this morning, turning around and seeing that face. >That genuine smile as she thanked you for listening to her. >You'd like to see that more often. >Seeing her happy just puts you in a place you don't ever recall being before. >"Hey." >Midnight's voice breaks you out of your train of thought. >She stares at you, befuddled and a little concerned. >Or maybe creeped out. "Sorry, zoned out. What's next...?" ----- Also, 1000 spent in MS Paint. It's a recolored vector, I'm no artist. I prefer Luna's full mane and hair style - but regardless, obviously it wouldn't billow like in Equestria. And I don't think the blue and purple wouldn't be so strongly separated like that, be sort of like blue w/ highlights, I would imagine. Basically like what I can make out in the OP image. Tiff did amazing work.

>>4483 >Another update Woohoo! >Midnight vector I thought she would be a bit lighter than that. Something like a dark blue more like in the OP. Nonetheless, pretty cool.

>>4486 Midnight's color is very much tied to her name. A casual glance at the midnight sky, looks black. You take a moment to look, and realize it's a very dark blue - and that becomes more noticeable depending on the lighting, such as on a bright moonlit night, particularly around the moon itself, as well as near stars. The OP is great - but there's a lot of different lighting at play there. My simple recoloring of a vector is just flat color, so overall - yeah, it doesn't pop like Tiff's work, imo.

>>4478 marketing mares have been part of bootleg since at least 2018. this is often overlooked for MLP bootlegs but market mares are very much welcome and fit easily into the thread. I like the idea the cereal sisters all being related like the apple family and found a new one to add in that thread.

>>4499 The russian cerial mare was pretty cute. Guess I'll have to keep an eye out for any pony themes products.

>>4500 Talking about 'big schloppa' the green with her named Ceres the uniCORN?

>>4501 YES. The original art was actually pretty good if I recall, though I don't have it at the ready.

>>4499 Got any of those full images? Any way, what about mares from those crappy and very weird flash games, or whatever they're made in now?

>>4505 >>4506 not a big fan of the style, but theres some underlying cuteness to her, so dont see why not. the pudding mare came from catfood mcfly's mobile game. pic unrelated So while it's definitely outside the norm for the thread, nobody would probably have a problem if someone wanted to do some green or draw some ponified

Fucking shit, ponepaste got hacked again.

Interesting Luna with purple mane.

>>4524 maybe one of the sisters of zooma? i want to comfort sad grape moon

>>4524 artist:braindead, luna-afterdark I might be wrong, but I think she's from old tumblr blog.

>>4505 >full images of those yes i did spot some mares in their original habitat

Previously, on Condense: https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/37011879/#q37035957 >Slow, steady breaths tickled the hair on Anonymous's chest, rousing him from slumber. >Like the morning prior, Anon found himself waking up feeling very well-rested. Unlike yesterday, he awoke unusually warm and weighted-down. >Enough early-morning light penetrated the room's curtains to illuminate the locks of pink, purple, and yellow hair that obscured Anon's vision. He brushed the foreign hair away from his face and sat up just enough to confirm his suspicions. >Condense lay atop him; forelegs straddling his bare torso. The right side of her face pressed against his sternum. Her long horn pointed too close to Anon's face for comfort. >A cursory glance to his left revealed it was 0724, far later than his reoccurring nightmares usually afforded him to sleep. 'I suppose I have you to thank for that,' Anon thought as he rested his head back on his pillow. >While the prolonged physical contact was comforting, it was something Anonymous hadn't experienced for several years. What should he do? She initiated it... should he lay there and try to enjoy the moment or extract himself from the bed before Condense woke, sparing them both any awkward tension? He laid motionless, contemplating the most prudent course of action, reticent to so much as breathe too deep lest it rouse his new companion. >Anon's thoughts turned to his nightmare, the nightly, soul-crushing reminder of what had happened on that cursed day. Reliving memories in such detail during one's sleep wasn't something he considered "normal" but after the Convergence, any sense of normalcy was ripped asunder along with civilization. >His leg twitched. "If I was whole, I might have been able to save them." he growled whilst projecting silent curses towards his faulty prosthetic. "Held back by my own work." >Condense shifted, her motion pulling Anon back to the present. He froze, only daring to breathe again after Condense resumed snoring. Her long, curly mane tickled his skin, almost begging for his touch. >Anonymous succumbed to the temptation and dared to run his fingers through the tri-colored mane that draped over his chest. The strands were long and silky-smooth; her curls springing back to their original shape after each stroke of his fingers. 'Your hair feels just like Maria's did.' >His idle thought renewed and reinvigorated the melancholy that his idle petting had temporarily dispelled. For a moment he could almost see his late wife's long, curled raven hair, the dazzling white of her captivating smile contrasting against her flawless tan complexion. >'Sometimes it feels like I'm married to a complete stranger,' her voice echoed in his mind. >It was a frequent point of contention between them in the months prior to her untimely passing.

>>4549 >Anon grimaced, shaking his head in a fruitless attempt to expel the bitter memories and regrets from his mind, disturbing Condense in the process. She mumbled some incoherent phrase of displeasure, then squeezed him tight with her forelegs; extinguishing any hope Anonymous had for a stealthy egress. >Sighing, Anonymous planted his palms into the mattress and began to sit upright. The sudden movement made Condense grip Anon tighter before joining him in the waking world. >Condense opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to orient herself in her strange, dimly-lit surroundings. She pulled her face away from Anon's scarred chest, wiping a thin strand of drool from her mouth as she did. The mare brought a pink hoof to where her face had been resting, poking at Anon's muscles as if there was some hidden knowledge to be gleaned from them. >Their combined motions activated the nightstand lamp, which fully illuminated Condense and her pillow of choice. >Condense raised her head, her gaze ascending from Anon's chest to his neck, and finally coming to rest on his icy blue eyes. Neither party spoke, but each looked away before the other could see the crimson darkening their respective faces. "Um... good mor-" >"You had a nightmare and were thrashing around a lot," Condense was quick to explain, her ears drooping somewhat as Anon sat fully upright. "I was just making sure you weren't going to hurt yourself if you had another bad dream later on." "Oh, um... right. Thank you." >"You had bad dreams the night before last too, you know." Condense added. "I heard you from the living room." >Anonymous gave his hair an absent-minded scratch. "I've had nightmares of some sort every night since the Convergence." He answered; voice growing somber. "I typically relive what happened in my dreams." >Condense reached out with a wing, resting the tips of her primaries on Anon's shoulder. "Do you... do you want to talk about it?" >Anon closed his eyes and turned away. ... >Desmond rubbed his bloodshot eyes. The night was a success in the sense that he found a way to get Tony to loosen up around him, captivity notwithstanding. Tony had lectured on his life's work throughout the night and into the morning, giving his attentive and inquisitive captor an in-depth crash course on synthetic life forms. "Wait," Desmond said with a stifled yawn. "What made these two so special if synthetic humans had been done before?" >Tony grinned,wide and toothy; reminiscent of the quintessential mad scientist portrayed in ancient science fiction films. >"*That* is the million-dollar question, isn't it?" Tony replied, pacing the length of his living room. "Rather, the five-point-three billion dollar question." >Desmond gave a low, long whistle. His bare metal fingertips played with the curled ends of his red El Bandito-styled mustache as he waited for Bowhannon to continue. He didn't have to wait long.

>>4550 >"Augmentation. The industry had struggled for ages trying to make it work. Injuries, rapid tissue degeneration, tumors, neurological issues, they plagued all the projects for decades..." >Desmond leaned forward in his seat. "I'm guessing you made a breakthrough?" >Tony nodded. "A series of them, which gained the attention and financial backing of the RMAZ military." "You made them supersoldiers," Desmond stated. >"Oh no," Tony chided, wagging his finger at the larger man. "You think too small! Too conservative! Not only was I able to augment strength and stamina, I was chasing literal immortality! Why, I was about to validate my telomere research before..." >Tony trailed off. He made his way to the couch Desmond occupied and sat next to him. A wistful look soon dominated his visage. >"Eve was the proof-of-concept to my benefactors. She was everything they wanted, but Adam... he was to be the culmination of my life's work, the pinnacle of human achievement..." >He clenched his fist, slamming it on his thigh. "Did the Convergence stop you from finishing your work?" >"No," Tony replied, hanging his head. "Eve was completed months before the Convergence." "But not Adam?" >"I never got the chance to test his unique enhancements." "Why?" >"There was... an accident... when we 'activated' Eve for the first time," Tony said, wiping his eyes. >Desmond turned to face Tony head-on and waited for elaboration. Tony stared at his hands for some time, the horrors of the test flashing through his mind. >"Eve's brain was grown in the tank, just like the rest of her. Many of my peers, DeTerra included, vehemently opposed my plan to use an untested synth brain with a programmed consciousness instead of a donor brain, or at least a transferred consciousness." >Tony stood, tugging at the wispy white strands of hair that he still had. "What happened?" Desmond asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "Something obviously went wrong." >"Everything was fine at first," Tony began. "Eve opened her eyes and stood from the tank... You should've seen her, Desmond. Tall, graceful, perfectly proportioned, quite the looker too; features matched exactly to my artistic sketches." "Yeah?" Desmond grinned at the description. >"Yeah. And then it all went sideways." Tony sighed, slumping down into the love seat adjacent to Desmond's couch. "Come on! You can't just leave it on a cliffhanger like that? What went wrong!?" >"She attacked us, including the RMAZ army officers that were in attendance. Though her rampage only lasted mere seconds, she mortally-wounded one of our staff before being gunned down by security." "Holy shit." >"That day was supposed to be my validation. I was so close. Instead, my own creation derailed my life's work and killed a colleague." "What happened to Adam?"

>>4551 >"The Army happened. They took possession of him. My magnum opus was taken away before I could complete him. >Tony covered his face with his trembling hands. >"Things only got worse at the company after that. I didn't get fired, but my budget was slashed and reallocated to other divisions. Anonymous quit, which left our android group without their leader and subject matter expert. And if that wasn't enough..." "The Convergence destroyed what was left." Desmond finished for Tony. >"Damned physicists... thinking they could play God with no repercussions!" "Isn't that exactly what you were doing?" >Tony glared at his captor, who was extracting a device from the depths of the rucksack he'd brought with him. Desmond yawned as he activated the torpedo-shaped object, placing it atop an adjustable tripod mount that he'd also pulled from his ruck. >"What is that?" "Mini auto-sentry turret!" Desmond replied with another yawn. "It's hover unit is busted, but everything else works just fine." >"Why in God's name are you setting that up in here?" "As much as I hope we'll someday become the best of friends," Desmond began after a queer smile, "I can't rule out the possibility that you may be tempted to unburden yourself of my company." >He unpacked a sleeping bag, laid it on the couch, and began to crawl inside. "Hence the turret. Neat little thing, isn't it? One of the very few goodies I was able to swipe from the unit's armory while everything was going tits-up. It's saved my ass more times than I care to remember." >"I see." "I don't mean to be rude, Tony, but we've been talking all night and I'm spent. I'm racking out for a while. Sweet dreams, snookums!" >With that, Desmond retreated into the depths of his sleeping bag. Tony slowly rose from his seat, his movements tracked by the watchful optics of Desmond's sentry turret. He retreated from the couches, back to the relative safety of the master bedroom. >"God help me," he muttered before collapsing on his bed. ... That's all for now. Updated paste: https://ponepaste.org/4168#1047

>>4543 >middle image Yeah, that's the one. >>4549 How nice it would be to wake up with a mare on your chest like that. Nice to see more action in here.

A sketch I had started on tonight but don't know when I'll finish so I guess I'll make a post. It's supposed to be Anon and Midnight on the couch.

>>4554 Aww, that's cute. I will say Anon's a bit too big compared to the couch (should be a full-size, big enough for a grown man to lay on with a fair amount of comfort) and Middle. Standing toe to toe (well, hoof), the top of her head would basically be at the top of his chest. She's a pretty big mare. Nonetheless, I'm being nitpicky - don't reinvent the wheel just to sate my autism. I'd still love to see this finished.

>>4554 nice start anon, it would be funny to make her a marelet tsundere but shes a little smol here or anon's one of the giants from ancient legends.

>>4483 "One last time - ready?" >"Yep." "One, two, three!" >In unison, both of you carefully strike either end of the long and slender scrap of wood with mallets. >Like clockwork, the last piece of window trim pops off of the car. >A '62 Cadillac. >That was so much damn stainless trim to take off. >But it went better than expected - nothing got beaten up or twisted. >Call it a miracle - you've seen this kind of shit ho wrong a lot. > It's why many people just mask over this kind of brightwork when painting a classic car rather than take it all off. >Others... >Well, sometimes they are the reason you have these orders. >It takes a lot of patience and care to get it off. "Awesome work, thank you," you compliment your assistant. >Midnight beams proudly at that, despite initially being frustrated her powers wouldn't work on the part. >Not much iron in that kind of stuff. >That's alright - with two working on either end and meeting in the middle, it went quick. >Relatively speaking. "What next?" you ask Midnight while carefully putting the final piece next to the others in the back of the truck. >You turn around to find Midnight with pursed lips and mum on details. "Cutlass?" >Just a nod. >She won't admit to it of course, but Midnight is very anxious about this. >Even though you're just fetching the order, just knowing who these parts are destined for gets her tensed up. >For the most part, you've kept her distracted enough, but now you're left with the elephant in the room. >And she's not gotten any better since first releasing this conversation to you. >If anything, she's gotten worse. >On your end, you want to see a silver lining. >It would be great if this guy could get her an RFID. >She might not be a bot that requires it, but it will allow her to pass off as a legal one and be able to go beyond the junkyard gates with much less risk. >If that's what she so desires, anyway. >Midnight might just be a homebody, similar to you. >Clearly not much of a socialite. >For now, anyway. >That could always change. >But the same reason that she doesn't appear to be much for company is the same reason that, now as you have had time to think about it, makes you wonder if this has not been blown out of proportion. >You don't blame her - she can't help she's been isolated and tested on by virtually everyone she's ever known. >But with that being said, there's the possibility signals got crossed along the way of this guy offering his assistance. >It's well worth playing it calm and cordial. >You hope Midnight can do that. >But how do you even approach her on this when she's already showing senses of dread - and you don't even have the damn parts to contact Theodore yet? >Any way you consider bringing up the notion that it's a misunderstanding ends up sounding like you're dismissing her worries.

>>4577 >But letting her stew over this is no good, either. >For better or worse, you feel you need to share your thoughts. >As both of you climb back into the Trailduster and set out in search of Cutlass parts, you take the opportunity to speak up. "Midnight, when I say that I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to you, you believe me, right?" >"Yeah. I don't really like admitting it, but you have done a lot," she says, sounding somewhat uncertain. >Whether's that's due to your question coming from out of nowhere, or the increasingly common-but-still-rare moment of gratitude spoken aloud by her is anyone's guess. "I just want to make it clear that I'm sticking by that, because I'm really beginning to consider we have this whole situation wrong." >"You don't trust my judgment?" >Her question is ice cold. >The look she has on her face matches it as she eyes you with a small amount of hurt inside. "No, I do trust your judgment, and I fully understand why you're concerned about this," you reply calmly. >"But?" "We can both agree you haven't had much experience in the terms of social situations and discussions, just based upon what you've told me, right?" >"That isn't my fault, Anon," she spits in irritation. "I understand that, and I'm not blaming you-" >"But you'll use that as an excuse to tell me I'm overreacting now, right? I've seen you staring at me like I'm some sort of paranoid idiot all day!" she accuses you angrily. >You are losing control of this situation. >Far quicker than you expected. "No, I do not think you're paranoid, I think you have every right to be nervous about thi-" >"I'm not nervous!" >She shouts that far louder than needed for the interior of this SUV. >You give her a moment to realize the outburst, which she acknowledges with an averted gaze and a scowl. >A particularly rough patch of the lane you're driving down sends both of you bouncing in your seats. >Be nice when those damn leaf springs come in. >You see no sense in doing just the shocks right now, since they would have to be removed again anyway. "Okay, you have concerns, how about that?" >"I have reservations about this," she corrects you indignantly in an attempt to save face. "Alright - regardless, I get it, and you have justifications to feel that way - but neither you nor I can afford to be completely close-minded and pessimistic, right?" >Midnight hardly looks swayed by your argument, her eyes narrowed on you. "Don't look at me in that tone of voice," you scold her, glancing over for just a moment. >The stupid comment at least knocks her off balance, softening her stone-cold posture. >"That doesn't make any damn sense," she replies after a slight hesitation. "Very good, glad you noticed," you reply with a cheeky smile. >"Jackass," she mutters. "Middie, all I'm trying to say is to pass him off as someone that's out to get you isn't right - there are genuinely nice people out there." >"And what is this really going to solve?"

>>4578 >You have to do a double-take at that response. "What?" >"Did I stutter?" Midnight barks back. "No, but - hell, there's a whole world beyond these gates. I get we're sorting things out to make this place private, but you don't want to be stuck here forever, right?" >Midnight turns her head away from you and looks out her window, silent. >She doesn't give you an opportunity to read her emotions, leaving you befuddled as to why she's suddenly calm and quiet. >You wait a few moments to see if she has anything to add, in case she's deep in thought over this whole conversation. >Turning down the correct row of cars, you finally come to the area with mid-size Oldsmobiles and stop the truck. "All I'm trying to do is look out for your best interest. Let me be clear on one thing though - if he does try something funny or take you, I'll shoot the son of a bitch if I have to." >"And if he does somehow help us... you know, forge my identity or something like that... what do you expect of me?" "What? Am I supposed to expect something?" >Midnight turns back to face you again - still possessing a face virtually lacking any emotion. >"You're keen on me being able to leave, it's clear. So what do you expect of me? To find somewhere else to live? Venture out on my own?" >She says that with a hint of venom in her voice. "So we can go out and do things, you dolt!" you shout back, more out of astonishment than anything else. >Is she for real right now? >"Hey, you're the one so adamant on getting me out of here, how am I supposed to know what's in that empty space between your ears?!" she snaps back, clearly displeased and offended by your volume. "Sorry, sorry," you apologize profusely, kicking yourself for shouting despite not meaning ill will. >You didn't really mean to call her a name either. >But she is sort of being thick-headed right now. >"So, this really is just about... what? Being able to do stuff? Like what?" >Midnight sounds surprised as she acknowledges the information your outburst actually contained. "Like... well, what would you want to do?" >Midnight shrugs, scoffing at your attempts to pass this off onto her. >"How am I supposed to know what there is? Almost everything I know about the outside world is what I've gleaned from eavesdropping or come across while reading on your laptop. Entertainment is not high on the priority list in terms of learning." "Fair enough. I guess I don't really have any suggestions other than dining out at restaurants - I'm sure as hell not a top-notch cook. There's some good places around. Things to check out in terms of sights, that sort of thing." >"And what if I have no desire to explore the world? What if... I already sort of have what I need, don't I?" she asks, as if unsure of herself. >You feel awkward trying to come up with any sort of reasonable answer to that. >Particularly because she's basically been deprived of... well, living. >Actually enjoying life.

>>4579 >Yet this shithole is good enough for her? "I guess so. Maybe we're getting too far ahead here," you admit. "I just wanted to say that I get your reservations about this, and I'm a little nervous, too. But we'll play it cool and cautious, and see how the cards fall, okay? Just don't stress from now until then, please?" >You put on your best pouting, pleading face, complete with sad eyes. >Midnight cringes, the door behind her opening quickly under her spell. >"Never make that face again. What the hell is that?" she responds with utter disgust. "A secret weapon, don't forget it," you joke, overemphasizing a serious tone of voice. >"I couldn't if I wanted to," she shoots back, still sounding rather disturbed as she slides out of the passenger side and out of view. >Mirroring her actions, you push open your door and set out for the final few parts of the early evening. -----

>>4580 good stuff!

its a bit early for /spookleg/ but we're in the season

>>4586 Is staring at the grim reaper's plot a bad idea?

>>4587 >libido and sex is for the mortals so you shouldnt feel anything staring this ass

>>4586 Super cool with the rain effect. I rather like it. >>4589 A pretty nice plot the shoulders and arms seem a bit off though.

>>4589 >you shouldnt feel anything staring this ass Then why do I feel the need to breed when I stare at it?

>>4580 Another good update. Nice to see Anon trying to cheer her up.

>>4593 >Anon's carnal desires endures even after death

>>4580 "Steak any good?" >"I think you did a decent job with it. I'm no connoisseur- I could have eaten it raw without issue." >Dinner time had come around again after a surprisingly smooth day of working. >Having been impressed with how much Midnight had accomplished the prior day, combined with her difficulties in slowing down her overactive mind, you decided to break out something a little more upscale. >A nice ribeye steak, cooked rare - if that. >She wanted it bloody, and as she just mentioned - raw would not have been an issue for her. > It's still odd to watch someone that should really be an herbivore mowing down red meat with vigor. >You're glad that this far, she hasn't noticed - but you definitely gave her the choice steak out of the two. >Middie would probably flip shit that you were spoiling her or something like that. >As much as she's come around to you, she's got her odd streaks of reluctance to accept anything above the bare minimum. >Maybe she thinks you're trying to bribe her or something. >Weird, but what else is there? >All you're looking to try to do is try to make the highlight of your life happy. >... >Alright, that sounds fucking weird. >Back that train up. >You're trying to make your friend happy. >Because she's dealt with too much misfortune. >She's a highlight because you don't really have friends you keep in contact with any longer, and otherwise, all you have is work. >So Midnight is... her existence is the most interesting thing you deal with, in the sense of the doldrums of day-to-day life. >Because you don't live alone anymore. >That's a better explanation. >...to yourself. >Complicated and meandering thoughts aside, there had been no excitement tonight when you gave a call to Theodore, notifying him his parts were ready for pickup whenever. >Midnight insisted upon it, despite your attempts to alleviate her mind of thinking about this earlier. >Relief and disappointment replaced the palpable tension when you only heard the eventual voicemail cut in. >You left a short message, only notifying him his parts were ready whenever he desired to pick them up, and your phone number in case of any delays or questions. >And that was that. "Same old, same old tonight?" you ask Midnight while she goes to town on her meal. >It must be pretty damn good or she's hungrier than normal because table manners are on the verge of disappearing entirely. >To be fair, you also made her wait until your food was done - so she had to just stare at it. >Next time, you will start yours first instead of doing them together. >"I unno," Midnight replies, shrugging with a mouthful of chewed-up steak distorting her response. "Don't talk with your mouth full, heathen." >Rather than respond with words, Midnight childishly opens her mouth and gives you a clear view of her meal. "How pleasant. Thank you for that," you groan, mildly disgusted by the sight. >Midnight seems content with that answer as she finishes up.

>>4608 >"Don't ask questions when you aren't ready for the answer next time," she suggests. "Okay, you can answer now - just the same old routine tonight?" >"Should I be doing something else?" she replies with her own inquiry. "I didn't know if you had some other plans for the website or the junkyard in general - or maybe something new you're reading about." >Again, she only shrugs whilst continuing her meal. >You follow her hint and continue with your own plate. >It isn't until after Midnight clears her plate that she breaks the silence. >"What's gotten into you asking me about my plans?" "Just trying to converse, I guess. Show I have some interest since you live with me," you casually explain. "Just sort of what friends do - we are friends, yeah?" >"Are we?" she replies, raising an eyebrow. >You feel like you just got kicked in the gut. >Maybe you are playing this too close to your heart. >"I didn't mean it like that," Midnight speaks up again, her ears dipping as she looks at you with some sympathy. >You didn't think you made a face about it, but evidently, she picked up on some sort of visual cue. "What?" >Midnight is visibly uncomfortable as you try to keep your inquiry as vague as her answer. >"It's... you bastard, I told you I didn't want you to get all queer and sappy after last night," she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she attempts to dismiss her own discomfort. "I didn't do anything!" >"Bullshit, you took some sort of offense to my question like I hurt your feelings. I could see it in how you dropped your head!" she accuses, pointing a hoof at you. "And you're pointing it out and apologizing for it like you feel bad that you did it," you remind her. >Midnight recoils, her face twisted into an odd amalgam of emotions. >"You... fuck. Don't turn this on me. I live with you, I don't need you crying for a hug," she mutters, looking off to the side. "So what didn't you mean?" you ask, now sort of amused by how she's gotten spun up about virtually nothing. >"Stop it." "No, you can't accuse me of doing something as a result of something you said that was left rather ambiguous." >"That's a rather big word for you - 'ambiguous.' Do you actually know what it means?" she asks, slyly trying to shift the squabble. "I do, but I don't know what you meant by asking if we were friends, but not actually meaning it," you calmly reply, crossing your arms over your chest. >"What's your definition of 'friend'?" she finally relents, albeit with a grumbling tone. "What's yours?" >"I don't have one. So don't play this off on me," she says. "You've never had a friend?" >She looks at you with incredulity staining her expression. >"Are you being stupid on purpose? I was born in a lab - what kind of social situations do you think I've experienced?" she counters. "Might I remind you that you pointed out earlier today that I apparently possess no social grace - but you're expectant of me to have had a friend?"

>>4609 >Yeah, that might have been a little retarded to ask, with that earlier conversation in mind. >But still, you would expect she had at least one... >Pony? >Or person? >Someone that she conversed with. "You didn't have anyone to talk to? At all, that whole time you were... wherever you were?" you inquire cautiously. >It feels like you're treading on thin ice now. >"Not really," Midnight says rather impatiently. "Maybe before the whole... the start of the experiments with augmentations. Biological ponies like - well I guess like I *was* - we were kept completely separate from the robots. After all, we aren't supposed to exist. But we were kept sort of together, I think. Like a common gathering area." "You think, or you know?" >You get a glare from Midnight before she even responds with words. >"I told you things are hazy for me, Anon," she mutters in frustration. "I only recall being - I guess reintroduced to that area." >Rather than ask for her to go on, you sit patiently. >Midnight has sort of zoned out, her eyes glazed over in thought. >"I don't know, it felt familiar. But it was just so... fake. All of it," she says, sounding disgusted. "And some of the others - I don't know, they didn't feel like complete strangers, but..." "Did you try talking to them?" you suggest. >She glances up at you, unenthused by the inquiry. >"You don't really 'converse' with bio-ponies - not the ones I was around, anyway," she scoffs. "They can speak, but there's very little of substance going on in their head." >Midnight sighs, looking rather apologetic for that crass review. >"Honestly, I didn't want much to do with them. There might have been some idle 'hellos' and 'goodbyes,' but it just felt like everyone else was... content. Placid. Superficial. So I just sort of isolated myself out of frustration, trying to understand what the hell was going.on, why I felt that way, why everything felt so wrong." "So what happened then?" >"Eventually I got my own area. Never saw any of those ponies again - or any ponies, for that matter, aside from the occasional robot. Other than that, it was humans - and most of them looked at me like an exotic being rather than something sentient." >Midnight's tone turns very bitter as she finishes. >Her bright blue eyes harden again as her focus returns to you. >"So no, I don't have any experience with 'friends' - the ball is squarely in your court," she states with finality. >As much as you like having your curiosity sated when Midnight opens up, it's never satisfying. >It seems like it's always something painful, whether she understands it or not.

>>4610 "Well, friends can converse about idle shit - but there's a level of trust that goes beyond that. It's someone you trust with your personal issues, your memories, someone you rely on in times of need. Someone you know won't judge you or make fun of you for something embarrassing - though you can usually rib each other for it. But it's someone that - well, you enjoy their company, their discussions, and their ear when you need to talk." >Midnight listens intently but offers no response. >Likewise, you only sit there - before you realize you haven't finished eating. >Might be a little cold now, but no sense in letting it go to waste. >Again, silence wins over any sort of idle chit-chat while you finish up dinner. >Rather than shuffle off to the couch and the comfortable isolation of the laptop screen, Midnight still sits at the kitchen counter across from you. >Her attention isn't really honed in on anything in particular. >Just watching her tell that tidbit of the past, you could tell she was experiencing it all over again. >And yet... >That's it. >She has no response for your explanation. >You were hoping to get some sort of agreement or affirmation. >You get it - she's a macho mare. >But her insistence to keep up this barrier does sting just a bit - you can't lie to yourself about that. >You still consider her a friend - just a very moody one. >Then again, that's sort of her odd, slightly rough charm, isn't it? >You're getting worked up over something stupid - a label. >Stop being a dumbass, dumbass. >Pulling yourself out of your odd mishmash of thoughts, you take both empty plates and slip them into the sink. >Along with the other dishes from this morning. >Maybe you'll get them washed tomorrow. "If I get to that couch first, I'm laying down on it," you announce, as if oblivious to Midnight's presence. >"The hell you will," she snidely responds, staring a hole through you. >You lock eyes with her as if preparing for a duel. >Just as you make a motion to get around the counter, Midnight bolts up and makes a beeline for her seat. "Not fair, you got a head start," you whine. >Fuck you, you can share," she sasses. "Fine," you huff, waltzing out into the living room and plopping down on your familiar cushion without any sort of grace or fanfare. >You flip on the tv with a quick motion of the remote and fish your phone out of your pocket. >Time to relax and look up stupid shit. >You feel the couch shift a little bit, and as you look up, the one cushion buffer between you and Midnight has evaporated. >She sits next to you for a moment, ignoring your perplexed gaze, before taking her normal posture. >Laying down, half-curled up and flopped over on one side, with her forehooves dangling off the front of the couch. >"Punishment for being so damn slow, friend," she muses nonchalantly, booting up your laptop. >You can't help but smirk. "Damn. Guess that's what I get for making idle threats." >"Yep." >You consider reaching over and ruffling her mane but think better of it. >Midnight has her own odd way of expressing herself- it just takes time. >You can wait. >It's worth it. -----

>>4611 >Midnight slowly discovering the magic of friendship Another good update, looking forward to the next one. Thanks Anon.

Do marketing mares, bootlegs and knock-offs have their own, bootleg version of Equestria?

>>4615 Might just be a bootleg euphemism for China.

>>4616 It's not only about the name. I vaguely remember that when I was a kid I've read a story about a kingdom of discarded toys or some stuff like that. Thought it might be an interesting thing to ponder.

>>4615 >>4616 How about it's like Equestria but the cities have names that are puns of chinese cities instead of american ones?

>>4618 Yeah, with Glimmer Village being called Ponyogang.

>>4618 As I said, I think it has to be more than just names. Maybe a misshappen, chaotic landscapes? Dilapidated buildings and habitats with bootleg ponies struggling to maintain it intact? Cheap, knock-off harmony that never works so bootlegs need to actually put effort into friendship and magic to survive and prosper?

So would bootleg Discord be some perfect being?

Updated and edited Angel Cake.

>>4611 >If you weren't already aware when signing for the package and just observing the size of it, Midnight made sure you knew of the contents. >The leaf springs for the Trailduster arrived. >And she wants no part in dilly-dallying to get them installed. >Fair enough. >As the lift in the garage bay slowly rises up from the ground with the truck at the whims of its might, Midnight is already tearing up packaging like a kid on Christmas. >Albeit wielding a box cutter. >And you're pretty sure her teeth got in on the action. >Damn heathen. "Just a reminder, if we don't get this done by evening, you're carrying me around while we pick parts," you joke. >"I never agreed to that, so bite me," Midnight strikes back. "Should have read the fine print - deal's a deal." >She snorts. >"Do you listen to yourself when you talk? That makes absolutely no sense." "I try not to listen - that way I don't know when I say something stupid. Then it's deny, deny, deny." >"Yeah? And how does that work out?" "How does what work out?" >Midnight starts to react as you watch those metaphorical gears in her head start to grind. >But she stops herself, catching onto your subtle, idiotic ruse. >"Funny guy," she says unenthusiastically. "Aw, thanks. I'll be here all week." >Midnight just shakes her head as she starts sorting out parts and pieces. >Nevertheless, she can't hide that mildly amused grin. >Maybe she isn't trying. >After all, things are... different. >A few nights ago, when she decided to sit beside you on the couch - well, that was just a joke for five minutes before putting the normal space between you two, right? >Doesn't seem like it. >Every night, her spot has been on the cushion next to you, rather than the opposite end. >You know better than to point it out, though. >More than likely, she would clam up again and revert to old habits. >It's only a move of a foot or two - but there is an increased sense of solidarity just in that closeness. >And whether it's because you inquired that same night or on her own accord, Midnight has also been receptive to showing you things she finds of interest or asking more questions about a topic. >It has become less about the occasional banter and conversation, between periods of silence, and more about conversation with some banter - and the occasional silence. >That speech about friendship was undeniably fruity, but it seems like it struck a chord with her, for whatever reason. >Who knew she could be such a softy? >That comment, if uttered aloud, could very well result in lost digits, though. >But jokes aside, hopefully it's a step in the right direction. >To get the rest of the trauma she's experienced out of her. >There is something that you find really haunting about her tale that she described. >How everything was suddenly... >Alien. >Just the thought of having your brain cranked on to the point where nothing is the same - but not understanding why...

>>4634 >A chill runs up your spine, making you let go of that ugly musing. >Focus returns to the present as you start looking over bolts that will require removal. >Well, they're all rusted, but that's to be expected for something dating back to the '70s. >You've seen far, far worse out of decades-newer cars, so you won't complain one bit. >With any luck, you won't have any casualties in terms of broken bolts or stripped heads. >"So, are we dropping the axles?" >The question makes you chuckle as you spy Midnight joining you underneath the vehicle. >Her focus is on the workspace, rather than you - so your chuckle doesn't irk her at all. "No way, that's way more work than we need to do," you reply. "I'm going to get some chains or straps and lash both axles in place on either side, and we'll take off one leaf spring and shock absorber at a time. Otherwise, we would be removing drive shafts, brake lines, and steering linkage. I want no part in that." >"So, you're corner-cutting," she says, unimpressed. "No, we're doing this the smart way rather than by the book - there's a reason that mechanics make a fair bit of dough - they get paid by the hour." >You look over to Midnight. "If you really want to do it the proper, technical service manual way, I'd be glad to - but it's gonna cost you some money." >"Money that I don't have," she reminds you. "Good, we're on the same page," you cheer, clapping your hands together. >However, you take note that Midnight is not wholly impressed. "In all seriousness Midnight - doing it this way is fine. I get being a stickler when it comes to the official manual - but remember how they don't even go in-depth on topics like trim," you remind her. "If it was something where we were truly at risk of cocking something up or hurting ourselves - then no, I wouldn't do it this way." >"So it legitimately is a shortcut, rather than you being lazy?" "Swear on it. Maybe it looks lazy and jacked up to strap the damn thing up there, but we would otherwise be draining the transmission and transfer cases to get the driveshafts out and refilling them, and then having to purge and bleed the brakes. And I'm a walking hazard when it comes to dealing with automotive fluids." >"Well, when you mention that, I want to see how much of a clusterfuck you can create," she jokingly chimes in. "Believe me, you'll see it sooner or later. And you'll help me clean it up." >"Nuh-uh," she says, shaking her head while turning back to her prior organization of parts. "Where the hell are you going?" >Pivoting on the spot to look back at you, Midnight looks lost as she cocks her head sideways. >"What do you mean?" >You point at a few key bolts that have to be removed. "You wanted to do this, didn't you?" >"Of course!" >The way she perks up instantly at the question is undeniably adorable. >You don't think you've ever seen someone so happy to do work. >But hey, who are you to complain?

>>4635 "Get started on breaking loose those U-bolts around the axles, the bolts on either end of the leaf springs, and the shock mounts top and bottom while I get something to tie up them axles," you explain, thumbing over to the storage room. "Impact gun or ratchet, your choice - just try to be cautious as much as you can. I'm sure I have some bolts to replace whatever gets busted, but I dunno where they are for sure." >"The leaf springs came with new bolts," Midnight chimes in. "Sweet. That's an unexpected but welcome surprise," you reply cheerfully. >This may go even better than anticipated. >As Midnight briskly trots over to your battered red toolbox to select the needed tools, you wander your way over to your storeroom and head inside. >Right away, you spy a few tow straps - but they're the smaller kind. >That's no good. >You head further in, barely able to walk straight forward with as tight of proximity all of these shelves are. >You really should have reconsidered and had Midnight do this. >Not because you don't trust her with getting started on the truck- but because she's much more lithe than you are when it comes to getting through this shit. >Someday, maybe you need to get another building put up - solely for part storage. >Yeah, someday... >Finally stumbling upon what you're searching for, you find your heavy-duty shit in the back corner. >You grab a few chains and a couple of sets of straps, silently cursing why you had to put them all the way back here rather than right inside. >Having not heard the rattling tune of the impact yet, it's safe to assume Midnight went with the physical route. >... is it really physical for her though? >Regardless, you aren't surprised - she's complained before about the volume of it and the racket it creates. >Her hearing is probably more sensitive. >But it would have been the safer option to break those bolts loose. >As you stumble along back to the entrance with your prizes slung over your shoulder, you hear a voice. >It isn't Midnight though... >"ANONYMOUS!!" >That one is. >The sheer volume of her shout quickens your pulse, even without any context. >You haven't heard her shout like that before, and she's dealt with customers on more than one occasion now, with the obvious one that comes to mind being- > It's probably Theodore. >You hustle as quick as you can through the corridor, banging your arms once or twice on parts that stick out beyond their respective shelf. >Whether she's flipping her shit just from pent-up stress and anxiety or if Teddy is trying something nefarious doesn't matter. >You aren't taking chances. >Reaching the door and sprinting out into the garage proper, you find Midnight has everything under control... >Relatively speaking. >You do recognize the elder gentleman, even as he stands just a few steps inside the building. >With a pair of weathered khakis and a vintage GM shirt, he certainly doesn't come off as a nefarious scientist.

>>4636 >Midnight has him at roughly five-foot distance. >Her ears are pinned back while she bares her teeth at your guest, her deep blue and violet-highlighted tail swishing back and forth with irritation as her eyes are locked on him like a target. >Well, she certainly isn't *scared* of him, in a sense. "Midnight," you call to her in a calm voice. >She doesn't turn or move, but you see her tensed muscles in her shoulders and hips relax just a bit. >"I uh... I didn't do very well in my first impression, did I?" Theodore quips in a lighthearted, slightly southern drawl. >For his part, the guy doesn't look too concerned about being stared down by someone prepared to attack. >You allow yourself to relax a bit while closing the distance between you and the two of them. "Yeah, Midnight has been... a little bit stressed," you admit, just as you pass beside her. >Out of the corner of your eye, you see her eyes shift to you, snorting once before putting her weapons away. >All that fuss about being called a guard dog... >You stick your hand out to greet your awaited guest. "I know we've already talked before, but I guess this is a bit more formal," you say, feeling awkward. "You must be Theodore." >"Oh please - this isn't that formal. Call me Teddy," he replies with a chuckle and a grin while accepting your gesture. "Of course, you and Midnight have met," you say, turning back to her. >She's calmed down now but remains guarded, her posture straight and stiff. >So much for giving the guy a chance... >"Yeah, I guess my bedside manners aren't very good. They never really were," he wisecracks. "You're a doctor?" you ask, surprised and confused by the quip. >"That's what the degree says, anyway - not really an *actual* doctor like in a hospital or anything like that," he clarifies, reaching behind his back and pulling out his wallet. "But before I forget, I ought to get those parts paid for and in my truck. Is that ok?" "Of course - got em back here behind the counter," you say, waving for him to follow you as you head in that direction. >Midnight quickly meets your stride alongside as you pass by her, sticking close. >Whether that's more for your protection or hers - that's up for debate. >Midnight doesn't say anything, but just a glance tells you she is very stressed about this whole situation. >Jesus - you had no idea she was this high-strung. >It's far beyond what you would expect from a conversation that took place a few days ago. >You need to talk to her - and Teddy heading out to his truck with those parts will present the perfect opportunity. >After presenting the parts to him and finagling just a bit on the price, Teddy hands you the cash and heads back out for the time being with his acquisitions. >You turn to Midnight, who is practically your shadow at this point. "Midnight, what was that all about?" you ask, more concerned than disappointed. "I thought we agreed that we would give him a fair shake."

>>4637 >"I'm not going with him, Anonymous!" she blurts out angrily, stomping a hoof down with a reverberating clack. "I have fought for this place, I'm still fighting for this place, I have you - I don't need anything else, no matter what he offers!" >She pauses to take a seat upon her haunches, while you're left utterly dumbfounded by the small avalanche she just unleashed. >"I *could* live without you, if need be - I'm not saying you're *everything*, but you're a perk living here, I'll admit that," she quickly adds, ruffling her wings with mild anxiousness. "Who the hell said you were going to leave?" you ask, getting down on a knee to get closer to her level. >... Midnight sort of has to bring her head down a bit to meet you. >But still, you get a better look at the torment, fury, and anxiety that swirls in those magnificent blue eyes. >Which have begun to glow as her tirade continues. >"He said he would take me away from here if this wasn't suitable to me, if you were a dickhead or something like that - I don't know," she snarls. "But fuck him! I'm not leaving! This is my home, and I will flay him and anyone else that gets in my way!" >You've only seen her this carried away and this angry once, if the sheer luminescence of her eyes is anything to go by. >The first night, when you called her 'princess.' >This is almost as scary. >Particularly as her breathing is on the verge of hyperventilation. "Well dammit, you never told me any of that," you reluctantly tell her. >You only now realize you started running your hands through her mane in an attempt to temper her fury. "Goddamn girl, you need to talk about this kind of shit," you reply. "I keep trying to get that through to you, I'm here to listen to your issues. Keeping that kind of shit in doesn't make you stronger, and talking about it doesn't make you a wuss." >Slowly, she begins to come to her senses, her inhales and exhales coming slower and deeper. "You're fine, Midnight. You got this, I got your back, alright? One step at a time here," you encourage her, trying to pep her up as you pat her shoulder. "You and me." >Midnight doesn't say anything, only nodding slightly at your words as her eyes begin to dim back to normal. >"I got this," she reiterates after a moment. "You have my back." "Exactly." >Having helped Midnight reel herself back in, you feel confident enough to stand up. >As you do so, you see Teddy has returned - albeit standing at a distance. >You feel sort of embarrassed and vulnerable as you wonder how long he's been back, and how much he heard. >He puts his hands up and out a little bit. >'Sorry,' he mouths out to you. >You look back over to Midnight, who stands back up straight. >Turning her head, she follows your gaze over to Teddy... >A little bit of anxiousness returns to her body, but she's much calmer than just a few minutes ago. >You turn your attention back to your guest. "Why don't we sit down and have a little chat?" -----

>>4638 I wish I could be as productive as you, Auto.

IDW keeping bootleg alive

>>4639 Lel. This is the first green I've written where you could say that about me. I'm usually slow as molasses when it comes to updates. It's all about inspiration, and Midnight hits me hard with that.

>>4638 Looks like we're about to find out about Mr. Teddy and it seems Midnight's anxiousness has just been building this entire time. Curious to find out what his deal is. Thanks for another update Auto. >>4639 Don't we all? >>4654 Looks like they went with the measure once cut twice philosophy. >>4655 Well I'm certainly enjoying things so far. Am excited to see where you take it in the future.

>>4639 It takes inspiration and a clear mind. At the best I was writing for three threads and around five days a week.

https://w2g.tv/rooms/b4h89p2m59wd8ky4gj?lang=en Friday (day?/)night groovin'.

>>4638 >You normally don't have company - but there are always seats to be found in a junkyard. >Maybe a little dusty, but still. >With the three of you having your own seat from cars long gone set down on the concrete floor, you all sort of look at each other, waiting for someone to speak up. >"Well, I guess I'll start by saying I didn't mean to come off the way I did to you, Midnight," Teddy apologizes, rubbing the back of his head. >"How did you mean to, as you say, 'come off,'?" Midnight interrogates, making it clear there is still much skepticism in her mind. >"I was just... impressed. I can't say I've seen anything as - well, natural as you. And I've been around for a while." "You worked with ponies, I'm assuming?" you speak up. >Teddy nods. >"Yeah, most of my working life. Obviously not around here, mind you," he says with a chuckle, highlighting his accent with a bit more drawl than normal. "Mind you, I was never a big shot or head honcho, but I graduated from college and started in the field of robotics well before manufacturers even thought of creating pony bots - but I was there when they began." >Teddy chuckles again as he reminisces about the past. >"I thought my company was batshit when the idea was proposed, figured there was no way Animatronics International would find any sort of profit margin in em - how wrong I was, huh?" "I can't say I'm really familiar with the name," you admit. "Never had any interest in... well, any of that robotic stuff." >"Well that's alright - it isn't for everyone. But it's a pretty large company - and we were the first to put out a production model." >"So because you finger-fucked the internals of a few robots means you can tell from a glance what I am, huh?" Midnight snidely interjects. >You try your damndest not to laugh despite her rude comment - but Teddy doesn't bother. >He unleashes a hearty guffaw, much to Midnight's surprise. >"Wow, she's a firecracker, isn't she?" he asks, looking over to you. "She's got a bit of snark in her," you agree, looking over to Midnight. >She doesn't look too happy about the exchange. >Perhaps because he asked you, instead of saying it to her. >Like you're her owner. "But that's a question better discussed with her," you add, motioning over to Midnight. >Pleasantly, you watch her give the faintest of smiles - for only a split second. >After that, the stone-faced mare returns. >"Ah, I'm sorry about that," Teddy says to her, understanding your hint right away. "Here I am crowing about you to start with, and then I'm acting like you aren't on our level." >"I would argue I'm above, but duly noted," she replies snobbishly. >Dammit, Midnight... >At least Teddy doesn't seem to take offense. >"Anyway, I specialized in the - well, I guess you could call it the brain," he continues, scratching his temple.

>>4674 >"We all did a little bit of everything in the development group, though. But with the brain, it's not only about getting everything to work together as far as limbs and movement, it's about the personality, too. That was a really big focus since all of the models we made were based on characters of the show." >You nod your head - but in reality, you can't even begin to fathom how different the personalities could be between miniature talking horses. >"Obviously at the start, things were rough - we were going for as 'real' or 'alive' as possible, but that sort of thing takes time. A few tweaks here or there, better actuators for more fluid movements, variances in voice modulation for better tone shifts, that sort of thing." "So you did that kind of stuff with the actual robots they sell, but you know of others like Midnight?" you ask. >Midnight nods firmly at your question, as eager as you are to understand how it all fits together based on his previous talk with her. >"You can spend all the money in the world for the best materials and then best scientists - but there is no replacement for the real thing, is there?" Teddy sighs. "It took about fifteen years, but we hit a brick wall when it came to improving the product any further. Not just us - all the companies doing this sort of stuff. So naturally, everyone started looking into bioengineering." >"Which is against the law," Midnight announces. >"Not when we started doing it - that was a grey area. Humans were off-limits, but companions or pets..." >Teddy has to trail off as Midnight takes exception to those words. >"I know that seems like I'm being offensive. But that is what - that is the end goal, you know?" he pleads. "Midnight, he's not being a dick, just cut him some slack - it's just the world we live in," you explain. >Midnight huffs, but after making eye contact with you, drops her shoulders and her perked up ears. >"That doesn't mean I have to like it," she mutters. >"No, you don't have to like it - and I didn't like it either," Teddy replies, shaking his head. "So you worked on trying to make bio-ponies a reality?" >Teddy turns his attention back to you, looking rather pained by your inquiry. >"With my arm twisted behind my back, yeah. Mind you, I didn't do any of the genetic engineering - I sort of took a back seat and helped with input based on the movements of our robots already in production and whatnot." >He takes a deep breath, as if hesitant to continue. >Just the look on his face tells you nothing particularly pleasant lies ahead. >"Go on," Midnight urges him, her interest piqued to the point that she is leaning forward. >"Just like robots, you're not going to get things right the first time. My god, some of the poor things that came out of the beginning stages -" >He shakes his head, collecting his thoughts for a moment.

>>4675 >"That's why I had such an issue with going down that road. Robots - sure, they're circuits and servos, but not actually a living, breathing creature, you know? Even the robo-ponies, a defective irreparable one... I found it hard to deactivate em without feeling some sort of sorrow for the thing. They really are something else." >Just listening to his works makes you feel sick. >Midnight doesn't look like she is doing too well, either. >"They at least got to a point where the ponies they were creating could actually - ugh, they could actually walk and function. I had enough of it, and I was relieved when the government stepped in and outlawed any sort of bioengineering of creatures." >"It didn't end there," Midnight reminds him. >Teddy cringes at that comment. >"No, I'm afraid it didn't - just went further behind the scenes, in secrecy. That legislation they passed was a pretty volatile topic, and it wasn't universally praised - it barely passed, if I remember right," Teddy explains. "I can't speak for everyone, but my company was still pursuing the development with the sense that the law would be repealed at some point - and they all wanted to be ahead of the game. I didn't." "You stepped back on your own?" >"Sort of. I spoke out against it, bitched at every upper management I could about how what we were doing was wrong - and the best they could do was an early retirement package with the stipulation that I don't take up any employment with another company for at least five years, and to never speak about that ongoing project." "So, is talking about it now..." >"I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us," he says with a nod. "I got far away from that place, ended up here about four years ago. So what they're up to now - I have no idea. I don't want to know." >He clears his throat, turning his focus squarely upon Midnight. >"So to answer your earlier question - I've been around a lot of robots. Seen how they move, they act, so on and so forth," he elaborates. "How you act, how you talk, your movements - far beyond what a robot could do, unless these companies have made incredible strides in the last half-decade. And I doubt that. But with everything that I've been through dealing with robo-ponies, and to a lesser extent, bio-ponies - I keep my eyes open." ">"Curiosity of how far science can go, I would assume," Midnight suggests. >"No, to try to help. I was skeptical when I first started developing em, but as I said - there is something special about ponies. I can't deny it. I've settled down here in this area, but for a year or so, I wandered a bit, traveled a bit - saw more than a fair share of discarded robo-ponies. Done what I can, because it really does pull at my heartstrings. Been fortunate to find em homes some of the time, or at least improve their life. And then there's the rare few like you..." >Midnight cocks her head at the way Teddy trails off.

>>4676 >"But that's a story for another time. I am legitimately curious about you, because as I said the last time we spoke - you're well above any other that I've encountered." >Despite the flash of cockiness she showed earlier, Midnight is a bit embarrassed by Teddy's notation, fidgeting a bit in her seat while she glances at you. >Her bashful demeanor dies away, leaving you with a look of skepticism. >You get she's cautious, but Teddy seems pretty genuine... >"You can tell him, I'd rather not revisit that," she says, devoid of emotion. "I'll work on the Trailduster as planned." >She gets up and saunters back toward the lift without another word. >You sigh, feeling empathetic to her pain that lingers. >"That's the sad thing about the whole market with companions, be it robots or biological," Teddy says quietly. "For every one that is in a good home, there's at least one or two that end up tossed to the side." "Just like traditional pets, expect they can actually talk," you reply. >"Yep. The other big reason I was against delving into bio-ponies - but where there's potentially money to be made, businesses are going to gun for it. Sorta makes me regret doing a lot of that work over all the years, seeing the dark side of it." "Midnight's been through the ringer, I know that much. It's why she's got such an attitude." >"Yeah, I've certainly seen that," he says with a chuckle. "Suppose that's my own fault. I didn't mean to cause either of you any trouble." "I guess the biggest thing that had her bothered was, aside from you identifying her as something other than robotic - I guess you mentioned taking her away from here? What was that about?" >You keep your voice calm and courteous - but you want an answer to that before anything else. >Teddy shifts uncomfortably at the inquiry. >"Like I said, these ponies - they tug at my heartstrings quite a bit. Just feel a bit - like I'm the one responsible for their plight, you know? Animatronics International was the first to market with em, and I was a big part of that project," he sighs. "If it wouldn't have been us, it'd have been another company, but still -" "With all due respect, Midnight's been focused on that idea that you would take her from here - and she's been festering on it because she doesn't like to talk about her issues," you interrupt with a firm voice. "She doesn't like seeming weak, even though that isn't true. What happened earlier, that walked in on - that was the breaking point there. I don't know what she's really capable of, but you've seen the dental work she's packing - and this was her last stand, as far as she was concerned. So please cut to the chase." >Teddy wrings his hands, looking rather ashamed as he glances behind you, undoubtedly to where Midnight is at work. >"Boy, she really does enjoy doing that sort of stuff, huh?" he asks, managing a small smile. >You turn around to follow his gaze, as Midnight hovers a ratchet up into the belly of the truck.

>>4677 >Even from this distance, you can see the relaxed grin that's graced her face. "That's what she spent months reading about in the back of the junkyard before I stumbled upon her," you reply, turning back to him. >"That was my biggest concern, particularly because she's not some servant robot - she's a living breathing being. I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense to you. Or her, for that matter. But after watching you help her earlier - you really care about her, don't you?" "Of course I do," you say, almost hurt by the rhetorical question. "I wasn't too thrilled to find her at first because I've got no interest in ponies or robots - none of that. And it was pretty rough, but... yeah, there's some charm to her, in a weird way. And I want to help her because she's been through hell." >Teddy nods, sporting an ear-to-ear grin as you finish. >"Ah, sounds like a road familiar to this old fart," he says with a chuckle. "So she was out in your junkyard?" >You briefly explain where you think she came from, some of the experiments they did, as well as when and how you discovered her. >"So that really isn't all for show? Midnight's an actual carnivore?" Teddy asks toward the end of your tale. "More or less. She's had a few other items here or there, but meat is her default," you say with a shrug. >"Man, that's just awful what they put her through, but her attitude makes a lot more sense to me now." "Yeah, life treats you like shit, and you tend to treat everyone around you like it, I guess." >However, Teddy shakes his head in disagreement. >"No, it's - I realize you don't know much about ponies from the show, but they all have distinctly different personalities. Having two chips or personalities, I would have to believe they sort of feed off of each other - and perhaps interfere with each other. That's not to say she isn't an individual, but she certainly has familiar quirks and mannerisms that tie into her personality as a whole." >That does sound like what she mentioned about her mind being overly active... "So, you mean kind of like how she has a strong pull toward learning new things, reading and shit, yeah?" you ask. >"Yep, that sounds an awful lot like Twilight Sparkle. As well as the anxiety, to a certain degree. But I'd assume the other chip is Luna?" "I... think so? What makes you guess that?" >"Well, to be fair, I'm not completely familiar with the manufacturer you mentioned, but everyone gravitates toward the same set of traits or personalities for certain ponies. Luna models tend to be a bit more independent, and perhaps a little reserved - but fiercely loyal and protective. I certainly see that in her, and tying in with a Twilight model's sometimes spastic behavior - well, no wonder she's such a fiery mare." >Teddy chuckles at his own quip, before settling down into a more serious tone.

>>4678 >"Anon, I'm awfully glad you found her and took her in. You seem like you have a good heart," he says. "And just the way you talk about her, how you look at her, I can tell you love her an awful lot already." >The way he says 'love,' it feels like there's a different connotation to it... "I think you might be looking too much into that, dude," you say with a half chuckle, waiting for him to rib you as you feel a bit warm. >But Teddy remains relatively straight-faced. >"Oh come on, there ain't no shame in it boy," he says in a sympathetic tone. "I saw the way you were stroking her mane, how concerned you were despite how - well, pardon me for saying it, but how terrifying and wild she looked. You were focused on her, beyond that. Been there, done that." "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, unsure of where this odd road of conversation is leading... >"Like I said, I've only seen a select few like her, and I've been down your road," he says, a wink of his eye following shortly thereafter. >Right... >This is getting too weird now. "Well, I appreciate you at least explaining uh... well, everything, I guess," you say quickly, getting up to your feet. >"Figured I owed it to ya, to settle both your mind and hers," he says, waving a hand dismissively. >As he slowly stands up, he abruptly starts patting down the front of his shorts. >"Oh shit, I almost forgot," he says, reaching into his right pocket. >He pulls out some sort of chain with a pendant that you can't quite make out. >"Now, this isn't completely foolproof, but it will certainly keep her a lot more inconspicuous," he says, grabbing onto the pendant itself and showing it to you. >The silver chain matches the pendant -which is in the shape of a crescent moon, much like the marks on Midnight's rear. >It's fairly large, about the size of a half-dollar coin, and has some thickness to it, which gradually tapers off toward the points. "Erm, jewelry?" you ask, even more perplexed after the conversation moments ago. >"It's got an RFID chip inside of it," he says quietly, pointing to the pendant. "It's not foolproof - after all, she's not a production model, let alone a bot - and it doesn't have your name and all that on it, either. But it will at least keep her safe in case of the passive scanners like at restaurants or stores - basically average public places. I just try to find something that fits with the pony in question, and I'd say this fits the bill for her, huh?" >He hands it off to you, allowing you to look it over. >Theres the slightest seam separating the front and back of the moon, but it otherwise seems like a solid piece of sterling silver. >The chain itself is a bit heftier than your standard jewelry necklace - it wouldn't surprise you if it was made specifically for ponies. >Well, bots.

>>4679 >"I'm sure I'll need more parts at some point - Cutlass is coming along nicely, but it was nothing short of a basketcase when I got it," he says with a laugh. "I take it you still have my number?" >You nod. >"If you need anything for her, give me a call. I can take care of some things, and I have a couple of friends that I trust with this sort of sensitive stuff. Just above all, try to keep her possessing a low profile - I can't say what would happen to her in a legal sense, but I can guarantee wherever she came from - well, those people would rather not have her existence risk getting caught experimenting with bio-engineering." >While that is a thought that crossed your mind, hearing someone else mention it gives you a sickening feeling. >Even with the added security of an RFID chip, Midnight is not completely safe. "Will do. I appreciate it," you say, shaking his hand again. >"It was nice meeting you, Midnight," Teddy calls over to the mare. >While still remaining rather standoffish, Midnight at least takes a moment to stop and offer a half-hearted wave of a hoof. >With that, Teddy wanders back outside, while you consider everything he's told you. >But first thing's first... "Hey Midnight, got something for you," you say enticingly. >"Unless it's chains to hold up these axles, I don't have any interest right now," she huffs. "I'm basically waiting on you now." >Despite the attitude, Midnight shifts her attention from the undercarriage of the Trailduster to you as you approach. >You hold the chain in your hand, allowing the silvery crescent moon to dangle for her eyes to see. >She recoils a bit, as if unsure of what to think. >"Did you seriously buy me jewelry? The fuck?" she spouts. "No, it's an RFID chip, inside of this," you say, pointing to the pendant. >"Inside of fucking jewelry." she reiterates. "Alright, I'll just throw it out then," you say, putting it in your pocket. >Midnight huffs. "Give the damn thing here. Freak." >Try as she might to hide it, there's a distinct look of awe in her eyes when you pull it back out. "You know Teddy is the one that got this, right?" you remind her. >"Yeah, and who's the one keen on throwing it around my neck? To go out to a restaurant? That sounds like some pretty odd desires..." >You bite your tongue as your face grows warm again, kneeling down and unfastening the chain. >While you expect to hear some more ribbing, she says nothing while you put it around her neck and snap the clasp back into place. >It really does look good against her dark coat... >She looks down at it, lightly batting at the pendant with her hoof. >"I guess it will do," she says in a restrained voice. "This does not make me your pet, though." "You're your own mare, Midnight. Just a little bit safer." >"I hope so," she says. "Now seriously, I'm chomping at the bit to get this done - come on." >With gusto, you stand up and get back to the original plan of the day. >Albeit a little more comfortable, a little confused, and a little unsure of your feelings... -----

>>4680 Love your stuff!

>>4680 The two of them could certainly use someone knowledgeable in the way that Teddy is. Both to help her blend in and in case anything were to happen with her. Hopefully he's an honest man. Thanks for another update Auto, I've been looking forward to them quite a bit.

new zoom if you havent checked out this bootleg you're missing out

>>4692 Well done. I think the drawing came out pretty nice. I haven't checked out Zooma yet, though I think I saw some talk about it earlier this thread.

https://boards.4channel.org/mlp/thread/37702243#p37726898 Moar Jack.

>>4692 >you're missing out have not read that one. what do you like about her nice pic btw

Been lazy as shit the last few days, but got hit with a drive to get something accomplished today, and wrapped this up tonight. >>4680 "Moment of truth - feeling nervous?" >"Don't be a prick - I have no concerns this will be fine." "Just remember it's your ass on the line here, not mine..." >Midnight sneers at you from the passenger seat. >"And you're going to be fucking walking back if it falls apart, you smartass." >You stifle a chuckle from her outburst. "Hey, I'm just making sure I'm not being too nice now." >You get a deadpan stare for that comment >"Ah. That's what this is all about, isn't it?" she says, motioning to her necklace. "Strike a nerve earlier, did I?" >"More like you couldn't seem to shut up about your new bling. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you love it." >Seriously - all day, as you and Midnight worked on the Trailduster, she marveled at it, made comments, teased you about it... >She passed it off as something to get used to, a nuisance. >But she adores it. >And it probably also helps that there is an extra sense of security with the RFID chip inside of it. >So naturally, after finishing up with the work and setting the truck back on all fours, it's time to feed Midnight her own medicine. >You know she did everything right, so there's no worry in your mind. > It's doubtful Midnight has any qualms about her handiwork either - so you don't feel bad about this. "Alright, here we go, cross your fingers Middie," you announce as you pull the shifter into reverse. >"If I had fingers, I'd be showing you one," she grumbles. >You can't help but laugh at that line while you pull out of the garage and to a stop, throwing the shifter forward and heading out for the first test of the suspension. "All jokes aside Midnight, how do you feel after everything that's happened today?" you ask, keenly interested in her perception. >"You sure seem to trust Teddy," she says rather nonchalantly. "You don't?" >"I've not made a clear decision on that. Personally, I think it's convenient I have something around my neck that may be an RFID chip to get past passive scanners, or it could be a GPS that lets someone track my every movement." >That's not a vague statement... "Then why are you still wearing it?" you ask, skeptical of her pessimism. >"I'll say it again, I'm not decided." >You hit the first few rough spots of the main lane. >While it's still a jolt when the right front wheel slips down into a rut, the truck stops bouncing very quickly. >Hell of a lot better than the previous trampoline bounce experience. >With new leaf springs, the initial bump is a little bit harder, but that will get better with time. >It's a short-term compromise.

>>4706 "You realize that Teddy could have just told your whereabouts to some mysterious ne'er-do-wells that wanted that information without going through the trouble of making that, right?" >"...shut up." >Midnight tries to dismiss your comment, but she can't hide the mild embarrassment. "I'm not trying to call you out, just wanted to point that out." >"I get it, I'm paranoid," she mutters. "I'm not ripping you for that. Not on purpose, I mean. But there's being cautious, and then there's - well yeah, irrationally paranoid. It isn't your fault, but-" >"You need to talk to me about it," she says in a mocking tone, complete with exaggerated gestures. >You stop the truck and just stare at her. >After watching her earlier come to the precipice of attacking someone that was here to help, the joke isn't funny. "Midnight, no jokes now. You can't keep letting shit bottle up and let it pop off all at once. Today was a wake-up call for me, and it should be for you, as well." >She rolls her eyes. >But you don't give her a chance to unleash any sarcasm to deflect. "I'm serious. I'm glad you're protective of me and your home, I'm glad you have a lot of fight in you that's allowed you to come this far in life - but you need to harness it and reel it in now," you say sternly. >"Protective of you?" "It was pretty obvious today. Unless you were scared and had to keep me around to feel safe." >Mightnight is getting visibly angry as her eyes narrow and her sneer turns into a genuine frown of displeasure. >"Stop making shit up to fit your objectives," she says in a harsh, warning tone. >You throw the shifter into park, as this discussion is too important and requires all of your attention to rely on holding the brake. "Did you not shout for me today when he first came into the building, Midnight? Did you not shadow me for the ensuing ten minutes? Did I not need to calm you down from being on the verge of slaughter, judging by your words and your raw fury?" >"Oh, come off of it, Anonymous!" she shouts, her eyes beginning to glow with her anger building. "No, you need to come off your high horse, Midnight. Today was an eye-opener - you need to get a hold of yourself, and you need to trust me with your concerns," you shoot back, pointing at her. >"I'll take that goddamn finger off, monkey," she growls. "Do it." >She looks genuinely taken aback by your retort. >You don't like taking this gamble, you don't like getting stern with her like this. >But if there's any chance of allowing her outside of the junkyard, she needs to find some self-control. >You sit like this in a standoff for what seems like minutes, the rumble of the engine the only sound that reaches your ears. "Well?" you spout, wiggling your finger enticingly. >"Fuck you." >Midnight just glares at you, staring directly into your eyes as she basically cops to her bluff. "I get to some extent you can't help it, some of it is because of your chips, but-" >"Excuse me?" Midnight coldly interrupts.

>>4707 "Teddy told me today that with what they experimented with, there are familiar characteristics from those chips, and some of those traits interact with each other and feed off of each other. So I get it, you have some anxiety because of Twilight Sparkle's personality, and you don't really like being forward with your thoughts because of Luna, so-" >"So I'm just a fucking machine that can easily be broken down and understood? I'm just an experiment that went wrong? Is that your point, Anon?!" >Maybe that wasn't the best thing to bring up, now that you think of it. >You've spent the better part of a month and a half building her up as a valuable living being, independent of her cybernetic implants... >And you essentially went back to square one. >Portraying her mannerisms as nothing more than coding. >What the fuck are you doing? >Midnight's telekinetic force violently wrenches the interior door handle and flings her door open, allowing her to leap out of the Trailduster. "Midnight, wait!" you plead with her. "How I meant to say that wasn't what came out!" >"Then how the fuck was it supposed to sound?!" she shouts back. "I trust you when you sit there and tell me over and over how unique and an individual I am, how proud you are of me, and then you tell me shit that makes me feel like I'm back in the lab! Telling me how I'm not right, how things are fucked up in my head, how I don't act as I should!" >She starts to stomp away angrily down a branching path to the right, making you jump out of your side of the truck to catch her and rectify your mistake. "Midnight." >You circle around the front and close in on her. >"Leave me alone." >You don't listen to her. >Instead, you reach her side and march in stride, while she looks straight ahead and ignores your presence. "I didn't mean to dehumanize- er, deponize?" you ask, before shaking your head. "Whatever. My point is, that was wrong of me. No, you aren't perfect, but I'm not either. But that means you can change yourself - and that's what I'm trying to help you with, trying to get you to understand." >"So pointing out what two electronics jammed in my brain do to my personality-" "That was retarded of me to mention. It doesn't matter where those issues come from, it's something I can help you work on, and I want to do that. My focus is on you - you're pulling me out of debt, that's your focus, and you've got it well under control. So I suppose I got some free time now." >Midnight comes to a halt, her eyes locked on the horizon. >"So what are you saying?" she demands.

>>4708 "I'm saying I care a lot more about you than I have anyone else. It goes beyond just wanting to see you improve - I want you to find what makes you happy and make peace with what's happened, and move on. Learn from things that maybe you could have done differently. Accepting a mistake doesn't mean you're a failure - and you need to stop thinking about what was said to you back before I met you. Those people clearly didn't give a fuck about you." >"No, they didn't." she says as a matter of fact. "I'm sorry for acting like I know your issues just because of computer parts. I sort of meant it in a sense that it confirmed what I had deducted myself in terms of your... let's not even call them flaws, let's call em quirks. Regardless, I didn't realize how offensive that was when I said it." >"I'm not offended by it-" >You squat down next you her. "Midnight, for fuck's sake, stop lying." >She huffs but says nothing. "Today overall was a good day. You did good with the Trailduster, and all things considered, you did well with Teddy after I helped you calm down some. You can at least admit that, right?" >"I suppose," she says, hanging her head a bit. "You aren't perfect - no one that's a living, breathing being is perfect. That's not something to be ashamed of, so stop pretending like there's nothing wrong. Me pointing something out doesn't mean you need to be defensive, it means there's a way to improve. That's why you read, to improve your knowledge, right?" >Midnight says nothing. >You likewise let silence end the conversation for now. >It gives you time to think back about what Teddy said earlier, what you said moments before. >Shit has changed a lot in the short span of time since you found her. >Your whole outlook has shifted. >Your opinions on many things have shifted. >Including your view of her. >"As much as you enjoy acting like a dumbass, you can say some things that make sense," Midnight comments. "I really do care about you Midnight. I want you to know that - however gay it sounds." >"It can't really be gay if it's toward a female, yeah?" she suggests. "Feelings are kind of gay." >Midnight gives a slight chuckle. >You feel something brush against your back before it softly cradles you. >You look over to your side and see a dark violet feather just barely sticking past your arm. >Midnight's embracing you with her wing. >"I suppose I do have a lot yet to learn about life, as much as it pains me to admit," she says. "It's a neverending journey, Middie," you say, reaching up and stroking her mane. >A lazy smile comes over her face for a bit, though she does restrain it after a short period.

>>4709 >"I'm still going to give you a hard time," she says. "I'd rather it be that way. I need you to keep my wits sharp. And I don't need you to turn into a sappy fucking mess." >"Ha! As if you could ever do such a thing. Dream on." "That a challenge?" you tease. >She finally turns to you and smirks. >"Shut the hell up and get back to the truck." "Only if you're coming with me," you say, standing up just as Midnight retracts her wing. >Midnight doesn't say anything, so you cross your arms expectantly and stare at her. >"That pose makes you look like a bitch." "Perfect. That was the look I was going for." >"I'm sure it was. Come on," she retorts, turning around and heading back to the nearby idling truck. >You follow suit, right beside her. -----

>>4710 Good stuff Auto. I'm assuming they're off to a restaurant somewhere? Or just testing how Midnight feels outside the house? But it's good that she is accepting Anon's help. Wouldn't do much good if she blew up at some random person while out.

>>4711 The minor squabble and ensuing heart to heart was a step in the right direction, in more ways than one. I'll say that much.

Small update that ties off part 2 and leads into part 3. >>4710 https://youtu.be/72r32bceDzg >For whatever reason, Midnight had been absolutely exhausted tonight. >She barely made it to nine o'clock before falling asleep sprawled out. >Right beside you. >Oh, how the mighty have fallen. >Such a drastic change from when you first met, when she could barely tolerate your mere presence. >The same can be said of your attitude. >Teddy had given you some clarity on your emotions that you hadn't recognized. >You've gotten attached to Midnight far more than you expected. >And why? >Before, you had to tolerate her. >The thought of having her here long-term was virtually unacceptable. >But that changed quickly once she demonstrated her knowledge. >Then, it was her abilities, the fact that she had ideas to help turn your situation around... >Now, it's... >You're at the door of the answer, but you're hesitant to twist the knob. >People are fucking weird. >You do not want to be one of those weird people that you despise. >Fetishists obsessed with a show and the characters - characters that aren't human. >That's been a lot of the market for this sort of thing, hasn't it? >Well, the bot market. >Midnight isn't a bot. >But it's still in the same vein, isn't it...? >No. >You've never watched the show and you don't know shit about it. >This goes beyond that. >You've gotten attached to Midnight *despite* her connections to the franchise. >That in and of itself is something you don't understand. >She's moody, sarcastic, and unpredictable to a severe degree. >What about that is enjoyable? >...she's hurt. >That's why Midnight acts the way she does. >She doesn't know anything other than that, so she faces every situation with the same worn tools as always. >But that's shifted, hasn't it? >Slowly but surely, she's warmed up to your advice, your ideas... >Maybe you have a weird savior complex. >Maybe everything about this is a road headed toward ruin. >How the hell would you know? >How long has it been since your last attempt at a relationship? >You honestly can't answer that, as you stopped caring many years ago. >And now... >Suddenly you have an interest. >With a goddamned pony. >But rather than cute and cuddly, she's abusive and perhaps a little unsettling. >Who knew such a thing was possible? >But you look past that somehow. >What lies beneath that exterior is a legitimately good mare. >And you want to get to know her better. >You've seen glimpses of her - such as a few nights ago, when you fucked up and mentioned her electronic implants in her brain that made her possibly a bit predictable. >Man, that was fucking stupid of you. >Way to put your foot in your mouth. >Yet... >Midnight listened when you explained yourself. >She gave you a chance to redeem yourself when she really didn't need to do so. >She was receptive to your message, even offered a slight embrace of forgiveness with her wing. >And of course earlier that day, you helped Midnight regain control of her short temper and anxiety. >Despite the inherent risk to yourself. >It's oddly complex how you've been drawn in toward her. >For you, it's those eyes. >You get lost in them. >Some say they are the window to the soul. >...you've never been one to wistfully dream of that sappy sort of shit. >Midnight would probably hate it. >Or at least say she did. >She's full of surprises nowadays. >You can't deny that you have feelings for her now - you have to be honest with yourself. >The how or why does not matter at this junction. >But that's just it - you face a crossroads. >There is inherently a weighty risk with pursuing her. >You could legitimately destroy everything that you have worked for - and that she has worked for - by making things weird. >Above all else, you want to protect what you have. >But with as much as she's warmed up to you, maybe there is a chance... >You are Anon. >And you're willing to take a chance. -----

>>4779 A bit of reflection and a bit of love. Looks like Anon's feeling have continued to evolve. I have to wonder how Anon will spill the beans and how she will receive the news. Midnight's probably never even thought about being approached in such a way. Looking forward to the next update.

>Be me >Work on holiday green for thread after influx of inspiration >Trannie jannies 3day ban me over a single post for 'trolling' egfags thankfully nhnb exists so i'll continue anyways but it still pisses me off.

>>4849 Sorry to hear that. Am curious to see what you're working on. I'm assuming the holiday in question is Nightmare Night/Halloween.

>>4849 The beatings on /mlp/ will continue until morale improves

>>4850 Yup we'll see how I do. wanted to get things rolling last night but kind of took a bit out of it. Maybe someone can post this over to the thread on /mlp/ >"Asking for a little filly for Horsemas." >"And you even opened her up... before Nightmare Night." >"You sure are naughty huh?" >"Gee whilikers Anon, well what did you think would happen?" ending with big smile giggling into her hooves. >Mulling the situation over, you never paid much attention to superstitions >Maybe you should have? >Whatever you thought was going to happen, sure didn't. >You've been swapping back and forth between talking to yourself in and out of your head, even though you don't have the luxery of privacy right now. >Since you're Anonymous and now you're currently having a chat with a possessed My Little Pony in your kitchen on the night of Halloween's Eve. >At least that's what she /says/ she is... but of course you're not so easily convinced she's not just trying to play a game with you. >Kinda crazy how the horse holidays all line up with ours, or do they? You'll have to ask her later. >Can't deny that there is a kind of living, moving, and talking pony that was in your living room, now sitting on your kitchen table as you rummage through your fridge. >You didn't have her a few days ago, and when you did pull her out of the box she wasn't this active before. >Didn't really seem like anything was out of the ordinary, wasn't moving at all, and sure wasn't as chatty. >Just like a normal stuffed animal. >Yup that's how it was before, everything normal. >Back to the present pink elephant in the room, even though she was neither pink nor an elephant. >You pictured that image in your head for a second and chuckle to yourself while she swung her legs back and forth offering moral support from behind, aww how nice. >"But you should get something extra special, like a big dessert" "Maybe you're right GG." >"Finally..." it sounded like she was relieved letting off some air. >You looked over everything indecisively before giving up and going for something sweeter, plunging your hand into the freezer blasting with cold air before. >That's what you wanted, but right now you just want to shove some garbage down and chill out. >Chill... hmm >A late night snack sounds good. "Yeah, that's the ticket." >"And don't feel too bad about it, I mean it IS called /Devil's/ Night..." her sweet voice trailed off. >You instinctively move to grab two bowls out of the cabinet before she stops you. >"Oh no... You really outdid yourself sooo, why don't you take all of it?" "Really, all of it? You don't want any?" >Shaking her head "It's no trouble at all, I think you really deserve it Anon" >She sits up and lightly trots over to the edge of the table motioning you over "Now you sit down and enjoy. >"Maybe anypony else would have known better, but it's not your fault" >"You're just one of those greenfigs Anon, it's OK you were just born this way!" >Greenfigs... wonder what that is? You'll have to get some later. >"But now that I'm here we can get things started back on track and fix that!" raising her hoof up in the air in victory "Hmfr, get what started?" you talk with half your mouth full of the frozen treat. >Before her hoof fell flat down again. "Don't... you know?" >"Hello, Petshop Cemetary curses ringing any bells?" >You spoon some more icecream into your mouth and ponder for a moment. >Ponder how delicious it is that is. "Nah not much of a Goosebumps kind of guy, besides... don't you need to be a pet for that?" >"Huh Goosebumps? What's that got to do with anything?" "Oh, some book series really good sh-" "..." >"Good.. what?" >No. You won't cross that line. >You stopped yourself from cursing in-front of >Even for one that had her reputation "Good stuff I've heard." >"Are you suuure that's what you meant?" "Yup" >You nodded to yourself with your hands on your hips. >Wildly off-colored Cozy Glow frowned, looked like she was upset >You'll have to do something about that.

>>4870 >A possessed "normal" bootleg pone. Certainly interesting. I'm sure demon pone could give any trick or treaters a mighty fright, unless she intends to haunt Anon.

>>4870 >Not-So-Cozy-Cozy sat down on her haunches questioning you >"Umm really? Flesh eating rotten corpses, the undead, do I really need to keep going?" >She pressed on tracing out of the air an imaginary square with her hooves. >"You know the Big Black Book... WitchponyCraft, the voodoo-hoodoo?" >"I know you grownups are supposed know this kind of scary stuff and you're just testing me, but you can stop pretending now!" >You listen and nod as she lists off generic horror tropes in the background, everything you've heard of and probably some stuff you haven't. "That's quite the list you're building." "All scary stuff, but do you know what's even scarier?" "..." >"..." >The silence must be deafening. So you take that as your invitation, getting up close to the filly. >Your presence absolutely dwarfs her. >Putting your hands on her soft shoulders... pull yourself in close and... you whisper into her tiny ear. "There might be a spooky skeleton inside you right now... !" >You pull back and note the expression of shock was burned into your mind, just like a photo flash going off. >Conveniently timed lightning illuminating the room sure was helpful. >Patting yourself on the back, these kind of things only present themselves once a year, you gotta save your ammo for when the big guns come out. >You've been saving it for while, but you won't tell her that. >"Skeletons..." she deadpanned and repeats again while you went back to devouring "Skeletons." "SPOOKY SKELETONS" >You corrected as lightning boomed with thunder shaking the walls. "You really gotta use a doominous tone, it's like ominous except more DOOM." >"Umm, are you feeling OK?" "Don't worry I can teach you." >You nod sure of yourself while she ignores your idea thoroughly confused >"Do I look like I have a skeleton, did it feel like bones when yo-" "'-hugged me'?" pointing your spoon at her with a grin. >"Hey, don't interrupt me!" >Despite jumping at you for cutting in line, it looks like she had a little trouble getting the words out after you derailed her. >"..." "Well?" >Shaking her head "...picked me up. I was going to say pick me up before you jumped in." "Just helping out" >"Are you sure Greenfigs don't just like to put things in little filly's mouths?" >You do know one thing that you wanna put in a mouth, staring back at your tub. >Formerly tub, now half-empty tub. >How things change, you'll weep for your loss. >The frozen goodness helped getting back on track. "Anywhy ahn dnt thnk we hffd ny pnny pets, so can't be Pet Cmrtrry" "Want some?" >you shake the container lightly enticing her. "It's rocky-road" >She looks down at your spoon with her brow creased. >It's clear that you're not really listening or taking this serious to her. >Something else was on your mind. >Like this fucking great icecream, you gotta hand it to her for this idea. >You can't teach an old dog new tricks. "No?" >"This is serious business Anon!" "Oh really what kind of serious?" >"What do all of those things have in common?" >"It's all EVIL stuff Anon!" >She pats her chest in emphasis with her hooves. "It's what I've been trying to tell you, I'm Evil with a capital E.!" >You've been playing this pony's game for a while but this is too much. >You burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry! I know you want me to play my part but I can't take it" "Trying to sell me on the idea that you're some great terror, but you couldn't even get up on the table yourself." "Don't you think you're just the teeeeeniest bit overestimating yourself?" >If plushies could blush out of embarassment her face would be a burning red right about now. >Instead the light bluish-teal kind of color filly mumbled something to herself >"Well maybe if you didn't ruin everything.."

>>4874 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5F_gfaX2B4

>>4871 just so we're clear, the whole prompt of it came from the thread on /mlp/ spoils but should be kinda obvious by now

>>4874 Sorry anons got caught up in a movie then hit with a migraine. there'll be more evil bootleg tomorrow >You notice that she was getting down in the dumps. >Not this time. >Springing into action and gasping dramatically, you set the tub down fast and hard. >Sure enough to make her jump before you came rushing over. "Golly Gee! We've got an emergency!" shaking her in panic "Nurse! Nurse!" >You change voices like a seasoned pro "Yes Doctor!" "What's the condition?" "I'm afraid it's a serious case of Scrunch-face-itus" >Then put on your best solemn face grimacing with your teeth turning away. "It-it's... chronic, unless we get it treated right away thing's can take a turn for the worse." "What can we do Doctor, is there anything that can save her?" "Don't worry! I've seen this in the field countless times, it's taken my whole career, a lifetime of research but thankfully we have the cure." >"Are you schizo? Why are you talking to your se-hey!" >You sweep her off her hooves with your hands tucked under her barrel. "It's upsies!" >"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" "Miss Glow, please I'm a professional let me do my work." "Upsies!" >"Quit it!" "No can do. Until that frown is upside down we can't discharge you." "Upsies!" >Lightly tossing her body up and catching her, each time a little higher "Upsies!" >She reached a high point in the air time enough for her wings to unfurl >Flap, flap, flap, and now falling. >But with enough force, you can kind of a floaty feeling. >One more time, with gusto "Upsies!" >Bingo. >That must be what she was going through right now, judging from the surprise. >Even if was fruitless and she couldn't actually fly, for a glimmer of a moment she looked like it. >Her defenses were down >You caught her into a little cradle and go for the critical hit. >A boop right in the nose! "And hay is for horses My Little Devil."

>>4779 "Holy shit, what a nightmare." >You toss your keys onto the kitchen counter before meandering over to the familiar old couch and flopping down backward over the armrest. >it feels like everything you had tried to retrieve out back today was either broken, rusted to hell, or otherwise a major project to remove. >As a result, a lot of new swears and insults had been invented by both of you. >A Nobel Prize might be in the cards for your contributions to the world today. >*Ahem* >You feel Midnight's eyes staring at you disapprovingly as she noisily reminds you of her presence. >You look up at the ceiling before closing your eyes while your body occupies the whole couch. "No room at the inn." >"I'll make room if need be," she warns. >You point in the general direction of the chair that sits against the wall opposite your couch. "That's free, there ya go." >"Alright then." >You feel a weight suddenly manifest upon your legs, forcing you to open your eyes and gander at what is going on. >Midnight has hopped up onto the couch, sitting on top of your lower legs. >Despite her size, she's lighter than you would expect. "Get off, you fatass," you grumble despite your observations. >"I gave you a choice, and this is the fate you chose. Deal with it," she shoots back. "At least I got you back on your side of the couch," you reply. >"Yeah, I'm not moving any further up because I don't trust you with how clingy you've become." >Oh-ho-ho. "Well now, who is the one thinking about where my crotch is?" you tease. >With a deep frown, Midnight reaches over with a hoof and swats you right in the aforementioned area. >It only takes a few seconds for the agony to manifest. "Ow ow ow! You fucker!" you howl, shielding your jewels from any further attack with your hands while you sit up. >Midnight stands to at least allow you to do that, sitting down in the now empty void left by you. >"As I said, you had a choice," she haughtily repeats. "What are we doing for food tonight?" "You're really going to ask me about dinner after doing that?!" >She merely shrugs, indifferent to your pain. >"I suppose I'll just eat something raw or have some jerky if you're going to continue to be a little girl. That was self-inflicted, as far as I'm concerned." >Man, she's cold. >Relatively speaking. >In reality, Midnight has been receptive to discussion lately. >Discussions about her feelings, her anxieties, and concerns. >It has been a daily routine for you to inquire about such things because you know it's the only way to spur such conversations with her. >But it's a step in the right direction. >Fortunately, she's been quite relaxed once the whole thing with Teddy blew over. >Of course, in her mind, you're being clingy. >If only she knew how you really felt... >Now is not the time for that. >The pain eventually subsides and you swing your legs and feet over onto the floor rather than the couch.

>>4879 >That's all it takes for Midnight to jump over to the middle cushion, right beside you. "So who's being clingy again?" you ask, gesturing to her movements only seconds ago. >"I'm sorry, do you want more pain?" "No." >"Then shut up." "Man, you're really abusive." >"Aw, who are you gonna tell?" she sarcastically pouts. "I'll call the cops," you threaten, reaching for your phone in your pocket. >"Call the cops, I don't give a fuck," she quickly replies with a smirk. >You do end up pulling your phone out, but it's merely to toss it on the coffee table in front of you. "Well, jokes aside - what do you want for food?" you ask. >Again, you get a shrug. >"I dunno. I thought maybe you had something in mind," she says calmly. "Not really. I'd honestly rather not even fuck with cooking after today's struggles. Probably mess something else up," you say with a half chuckle. >"You know me. I'll just pull something out of the fridge or have some jerky like I already mentioned." >She really has become somewhat addicted to beef jerky since the one time you brought it home for yourself. >Midnight evidently thought it was for her - and the first time you went to get a snack, it was gone. >She ate the whole damn bag in one sitting. >Admittedly, you were a little miffed about that. >But it at least gave you an idea for something else to buy for food. >Even though she has no qualms about eating raw meat, you still don't like the idea. >Midnight does it anyway, of course. "Well... did you maybe want to try going out somewhere to get something to eat?" you suggest. >Even though she manages to keep a straight face, you notice Midnight tensing up at the suggestion. >After a week of having the necklace with the secret chip in it, she has still been hesitant to venture out. >You've only mentioned it a couple of times, though. >"Like what?" she cautiously inquires. "Could just do fast food - burgers or something like that," you reply. "I know you still have some reservations about going out and about, but that shouldn't be too bad staying in the truck, right?" >"Maybe," she says, her voice betraying the insincerity of the agreement. "Middie, are you ever going to feel comfortable with the idea of going out in public? I'm not trying to be mean, but I feel like, at some point, I'm going to have to twist your arm on this." >"First off, I don't have arms," she replies. "It's a saying. Stop trying to change the subject." >Midnight huffs, frustrated that you didn't take the obvious bait. >"I... don't feel like it's a necessary risk, Anon," she admits. "What if it doesn't work? What if someone like Teddy recognizes me for the freak that I am - except they aren't so sympathetic?" "You aren't a freak, stop saying that," you scold her. > It's a term she uses toward herself from time to time, especially when she's feeling insecure. >You absolutely despise hearing it. >"Fine. We'll use your word - 'unique,'" she replies with an attitude and accompanying loathful face.

>>4880 >You merely stare at her, unimpressed. >"Can we get past that hangup?" "I'm going to be a dickhead about it until you stop using that toward yourself, so that's entirely up to you," you remind her. "But aside from that - look, there's a lot of what-ifs in the world. At some point, if you worry too much about what could happen, you miss out on things. I'm not saying you have no reason to feel some sort of concern because it's better to be cautious than carefree. But I really think it would be good for you to venture out, even if it was still inside a vehicle." >"And you're going to keep nagging me about it until I agree, aren't you?" >You merely nod your head, causing Midnight to sigh. >"Fine." >You mentally fist pump at the small victory, while calmly getting back up off of the couch. >You hear Midnight fall in line behind you as you fetch your keys off of the counter while turning to make sure Midnight still has her pendant on. >You rarely see her without it, but better safe than sorry. >"You gonna gawk at me, or are we going?" she barks. "Both, maybe?" you joke. >Midnight isn't too thrilled with that response, but you know it's more due to the circumstances she faces now. >After all - this will basically be the first time she's seen the outside world. >The gravity of that only hits you now as you track out of your living quarters and down the steps. >Obviously she's seen some people being out in the junkyard - but it's never been very busy. >Nothing like even the small town nearby. >At least it's just that - a small, rather quiet town. >Anything else might be a sensory overload for her. >Midnight opens the gate while you get in the Trailduster and crank it up, driving through while she holds the path open for you. >You park it while Midnight closes up again and eventually climbs into the passenger seat. "Seat belt," you say teasingly, motioning to the apparatus on the roof pillar. >"I will smack the fuck out of you if you seriously make me sit in an awkward way to fit that damn thing," she snarls. >Rather harshly. "Take a deep breath, Midnight," you quietly instruct her. >She makes a face at your efforts of guidance, but nonetheless follows your advice. "Good. Thank you," you say, trying to encourage her. >"Will you just go already?" she spouts. >Like a bandaid, you're just going to have to bear it and rip this off. >Following her orders, you set off down the road. >The tires quickly make their presence known with the hum against the pavement. >"What is that noise?" Midnight asks, confused. "Tires are more for offroad than pavement, so the tread makes that noise. Nothing to worry about." >"You ever consider getting another vehicle then? You know, so you don't have to drive this thing on the road?" "Not really. I got used to it, and as you're aware, I've not had the funds to really feel comfortable with buying a second car." >It does feel a bit better on the road with the new shocks and springs, though.

>>4881 >The roads aren't particularly smooth around here, so it would sometimes feel like you were riding a trampoline at fifty miles per hour. >As you make your way toward town, you pass a few oncoming cars with their headlights on, making you realize the days are beginning to grow shorter. >You've grown accustomed to the heat, but this summer has been pretty brutal - you look forward to the temperatures that fall and winter will bring. >Fortunately, you won't have to deal with the white bullshit they call 'snow.' >You flick on your headlights before bringing attention to your passenger's movements. > It's something you've noticed out of the corner of your vision. >Every time oncoming traffic gets close, she hunches down noticeably in her seat. >This really isn't going to be fun for her. >You sort of feel bad now. >But, she will never get comfortable unless she's exposed to this sort of thing. "Have you been able to make out the faces of any drivers or passengers in the cars we've passed?" you ask after the third occasion. >"...No?" Midnight replies, confused as to the correct answer for such an odd question. "I assure you neither can they. You can relax, Middie." >"You've really taken to that name, haven't you?" she muses. "You don't really seem to be bothered by it anymore," you reply. >"There are worse names you could use - I'll pick my battles here," she reasons. "I still don't know why you like it." >You can't help but grin a little bit before you answer. "Because it sounds cute." > Midnight's face scrunches up in disapproval and disgust as you glace over. >"I'm not cute," she argues. >You cock your head and only grin wider. "You're so damn cute when you're grumpy." >"Eyes on the road, please," she huffs, turning away. >At the very least, that's two cars she hasn't noticed go by. ----- https://ponepaste.org/6024

https://ponepaste.org/145 >Your head is in splitting pain >What time is it? >The last thing you remember... >That's right >Anon >You were going to check up on Anon >It had been weeks since he showed up to work >Days since he last texted you "Uah... ow, my head..." >You roll your head, feeling the pain roll around your head like a billiard ball >"Oh, hey. You're awake. Cool. Sorry." >That voice "Anon? What happened?" >Though it hurts, you open your eyes >One of them opens >Anon is sitting on a bar stool in front of you >This room... >It's his living room >You've been over once before >You went to the grocery store to buy him some things when he was sick >His face... "Anon, what happened?" >His eyes >His eyes are completely bloodshot >Rivulets of blood are streaming down his cheeks >They go down his chin and pool around the collar of his shirt >"I... uh. Yeah." >Despite how coked out he looks, he sounds... normal >Apologetic, but he doesn't sound all broken up or freaked out >You reach up to feel the pain on you head >You fe... >Wait >You try to reach up >You can't "What is this...?" >You look down at your arms >You have a few zip ties tied together >Your wrists are bound to something in the couch "...is this one of your fantasies? I mean the hot glue is one thing but this really isn't ok, you know?" >Anon cracks a smile >But it drops >"I... ah... shit." >He wipes one of his eyes >The blood seeping out smears across his cheek >"Ah..." >He keeps wiping his eye >The blood is starting to smear more across his face >His other hand comes up to wipe his other eye >He can't stop >"Ah... shit..." >You're paralyzed >What's wrong with his eyes? >Are they infected? >He stops wiping his eyes and bellows out with a madman's frantic tone >"I AM NOT STALLING, YOU FUCKING FUCKED WITH MY EYES YOU BITCH." >You flinch so hard you thought your skeleton would pop out from behind "W... who messed with your eyes Anon?" >You swallow hard "You... w-we gotta go to a doctor about this. This sort of bleeding... it's not normal." >Anon smeared blood over his face and hands now >"No. No it's not, and... ah..." >He raises a hand up again but lowers it after thinking it over >"I just... I need some help. She needs it. And she won't really let me go with anything else anymore." >She? >Who she? "Needs what?" >"I try to tell her to shut up but I just-I haven't slept in four days now, Fi." "Anon, you're not making any sense." >"I know! I know I'm not, I-FUCKING SHUT IT, YOU HAVE DONE ENOUGH." >He points a bloody finger at you >At your lap >At... >There is a pony doll on your lap >It is looking at him >Has it always been sitting there? "Anon, you need to tell me why I'm stuck like this. Why does my head hurt?" >"Because... ahhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GOD DAMN IT." >Anon goes back to rubbing his eyes >He starts to grunt >His wiping turns to scratching "Anon!" >He's scratching his eyes "ANON, STOP THAT!" >Anon lets out a panicked scream and rakes his fingers across his closed eyes one last time

>>4883 >He quietly huffs, his head twitching >There are visible scratches that his nails made over his eyelids and part of his face "OH MY GOD, ANON." >"IT'S FINE!" >His fists raise and shake when he screams >The sheer anger you can hear stifles you from making any sudden moves >"It's... it's fine. my eyes are... ah. They're fucked, Fi. Because even right now I can see fine. But it fucking itches and scratching really just seems to fix it." >Your eyes water at the sight of his face >His eyes are bleeding further >They aren't even focused on you anymore >One is looking off into the distance >The other is only vaguely focused on you >This isn't real "A-anon, this isn't funny... I know this is Halloween but-" >"It's Halloween?!" >His shocked expression is... >Heart breaking >He doesn't even seem to act like his eyes are nearly destroyed >"It... it's been this long?" "Don't you remember us texting...?" >He texted you saying that he had a huge project going, and that he was going to lie and fill out some medical leave forms >You helped him get them set up >His mouth drops >"I... we did? You... you aren't serious. Are you?" >This insanity is starting to really get to you "HOW ELSE HAVE WE BEEN TALKING?!" >You thrash against your plastic restraints >"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" >He lunges out to you and >Grabs that doll? >He whips it to the side >It smashes against wall and breaks apart >"YOU WHORE!" >He lunges out to you now to >What...? >He has the pony doll in hand >He whips it to the side again >It smashes against the wall and breaks apart >You can hear the hollow wood it is made out of >He reaches for your lap and whips his hand out time and time again >Each time he smashes a pony doll against his wall >It continues until the wall itself is starting to get spattered and smeared with trace flecks of blood >What is he doing?! >WHERE ARE THESE DOLLS COMING FROM!? "ANON FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP IT!" >He grabs the pony doll from your lap and holds it >He's huffing and panting He holds it out to you >"THIS... thing. Is FUCKING with me!" >It looks like just a normal doll >A pony doll, but it isn't holding a gun to his head or anything like that >He grabs the head with a bloody hand and wrenches it off >He throws the parts away and immediately lunges for you again >This time you look down >The doll is on your lap >It's looking up at Ơ̷͉̫Ȟ̸͔̈́G̶̙̬̉Ỏ̴͇̊D̷̥͎͂͒D̴̤͕͝͝O̶̟͆̊N̴̫͕̈'̷̺̭̌Ṫ̵̖́L̵̨̕O̶̢͘Õ̷̠͖̕K̷͖͐A̷̼̺͒͐T̷̙̃̎Ţ̸̠͒H̴̝̦̊̕Ě̵̖Ḙ̷̹͋Y̶̨͒͒ͅÈ̶̝S̵͉̍I̵̪̤̾T̸̤͝Ḧ̸͍U̷̱̒̇R̵̻͒͝T̸̙̤̐͌S̶̡̠̆̈́D̵̠̎́Ö̴̖̙́̋N̸̟͗̿'̷͖̓T̵̫̬̍̓L̵̩̗̊̌Ô̸̭O̵̦̖͆K̵̦̋̆D̵̘͊͠Ö̴̬̮Ň̶̢'̶̻̈́T̶̞͑̕L̸̤͎̾O̵̭͊ͅO̷̢̞͗K̵͖̇͗D̶̢͘Ő̷̳̀N̸̢͍̍͑'̵͈̆͒T̶͔͌̏L̴̠̇Ȍ̸̘̦Ò̵̥͝K̷͕͠Ḏ̵̀͜O̷̺͗Ǹ̵͓̘'̸̩̈́T̷̮͕̓L̷̢̦͒̋Ỏ̵̪̦Õ̷̳̔K̸̻̯̆

>>4884 >Anon grabs the doll from your view and holds onto it tight >You think you might be screaming >In fact, you are screaming >You've been frozen in the spot, screaming for what feels like hours now >Only a hard slap to your face allows you to recover >"It's fine, you're alright!" >The voice sounds like it's trying to put you at ease >But it's Anon saying it >Somehow his eyes look even worse >One is scratched so hard it looks cut >He isn't even looking at you >"Listen... Fi. You gotta help me. I swear it's just one thing. I know I've had you help me out and all that but I just need this one time I don't think I can keep going if I don't get this done I've been trying my best to stop it I just can't do it anymore just look at me you can tell I just can't do it anymore!" >He rambles, trying his best to not sound upset >It fails "...what do you need, Anon?" >He smiles >Like it was finally a wave of relief >"You promise? I swear, I just need help one more time. That's all, I swear. I promise you I swear." >He sounds like this is going to take a massive load off of him >What in the world has happened to this man? "Of course, I promise... what's wrong, Anon? What do you need? How can I help?" >He pulls out something with his free hand >It's a sort of kitchen steak knife "...wha?" >"I need your blood. And I need your eyes. Mine are rotting at this point. They aren't for me." >Before you can tell what is going on, he's slashing at you! >You scream while he hacks at you >He's screaming too >It stops after five swipes >You know it hurts but you don't even know where he hit you >He shushes you and kneels down >He crudely rubs the face of the pony doll into your cuts, coating the head in your blood "ANON! WHAT THE FU!" >This is sheer insanity >Anon ignores you and wipes at the pony head >"See? There... there we go. Stop your yammering, it'll set." >The only thing you can do is scream >Anon holds up the pony doll >Her hair is blood red and well maintained >She even has lipstick on >A little pair of glasses are on >The eyes behind the lenses are gleaming >"Thank you Fi... thank you. She wants to talk to you now." >Talking? >What is there to talk about? >Anon holds out the doll to you for an entire minute >HE then pulls his arm back and look like it like he was a child spoiled realizing that the glow in the dark magic wand he got for Christmas wouldn't actually let him kill his neighbors >"...don't tell me you're shy now." >What? >"No, I don't think she'll turn violent. You're being retarded." >He sighs and puts the pony down on your lap >"I am sorry, Fi... I just. I can't stop her. She said I can go back to sleep after this. Just... hold on, ok? You can live through it." >What? >He sets the doll on your lap "Anon, this is crazy, please just let me go and I promise I'll never..." >Your voice trails off >The doll's head spins around to stare at you >The eyes >They're glowing bright >You hesitate >"ᴸᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵇᵉᵍᶦn." >Everything is white

>>4885 archivefag here cant bump the thread on /mlp/ or post anywhere else but holy fucking shit. I know i wrote that we dont know if photo's friend or foe but holy fucking shit.

>>4888 There is a reason why this green split into two paths.

>three green updates I don't know what we did to get such good fortunes, but this is exciting to see. >>4878 >demon pone is caught offguard from this defense >>4882 >the gap on the couch has finally been bridged I am happy to see them get closer. Looks like good news for their friendship. We'll have to see how she handles the outside world. I do wonder what would happen if she came across one of the more primitive, robo ponies while out. How she would react. Excited as ever for the next update Auto. >>4885 Very spooky.

>>4889 >one off so close to digits does this mean you updated it on /pie/ as well?

>>4893 [spoiler]Tonight I might.

havent been able to get back to the big G, been kind of out of it today had to get up early. but had a sleepy stupid thought pop into my head about /bie/ setting bootlegs in equestria. like middie being a dinner guest at fluttershy's cottage >>4882 real good job here showing how even getting fastfood is such an enormous hurdle for midnight auto

>>4901 do note that /pie/ is currently /aie/ if youre gunna do parallel posting

>>4882 "I know for a fact that their brisket is good when they have it. That's only a special once in a while." >"What's brisket?" "...you know what, I don't really know. But it's meat, and it's good." >It had only been about a ten-minute drive into town, and you had quickly settled on an old-style drive-in fast food joint that you only occasionally had eaten at before. >They weren't exactly as fast as a modern fast food restaurant, and they were more expensive - but the atmosphere and the quality made it worthwhile. >Midnight isn't one to dress up her food in regards to toppings, so the barbeque they had to offer was going to be right up her alley. >Your choices were more open - but now that you mentioned the brisket... >Midnight watches as a waitress streaks by on a pair of roller skates. >"Is this a normal occurrence?" she asks, raising a brow at the scene. "No. I think it kinda was at one time, but this is sort of a retro joint. They bring the food out to you, and those roller skates make service a bit quicker, I guess." >"Have you ever seen one wipe out?" >You cock your head at the question. "Boy, you have some evil thoughts," you comment. >Midnight retains her deadpan stare that's focused squarely upon you at this point. >"Yet you're trying not to smile. So who's really in the wrong here?" Midnight retorts. "I would never laugh at such a sight," you say, pretending to be aghast. >"Uh-huh. So I take it that's a lie, because you have seen it, and you did laugh." "I felt guilty about it afterward," you mumble, hanging your head. >Before Midnight can respond with another remark, the waitress that zipped by just moments ago appears at your window. >"Hiya, how are you doing tonight?" she greets you, apparently oblivious to your passenger. "I think we're doing pretty good," you reply with a smile. >The blonde glances over and spies Midnight. >"Aww, it's one of those pony bots!" she gushes with enthusiasm. "She looks so cute." >"I'm not cute," Midnight mutters through gritted teeth. "Don't mind her, she's a little sensitive about that sort of thing," you say as the girl's smile fades just a bit. >"Sorry about that," she says to Midnight. "What can I get for you tonight?" >You glance back over to Midnight. >"What?" "You know what you want?" >"I think so," she replies, somewhat hesitant. >Better go first. "Gimme the brisket sandwich," you say, turning your focus back to the blonde as she pulls out a pen and pad of paper. >"Just the sandwich, or the basket?" she asks. "We have fries, onion rings-" "Hell yeah, onion rings. And whatever cola you got." >"Cool, got it," she says, finishing her scribbles before her eyes dart to your passenger. "We have a fresh salad, it's really good - carrots, tomatoes, cheese-" >"Ew. No," Midnight interrupts, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I'll take the sandwich he's getting." >The waitress looks taken aback by the idea, glancing back over to you for confirmation. >"The... brisket sandwich?" she finally sputters.

>>4928 "You sure you don't want the whole meal, Midnight?" you ask, turning to her. >You can practically feel the poor girl's mind on the verge of exploding as she tries to make sense of this whole situation. >"I don't really feel all that hungry - and if I get thirsty, I'll just have some of your dri." "Ahahaha, no. I'm not playing that game," you interrupt her, turning to the waitress. "She's gonna have the basket with fries and a drink." >"I didn't say that, asshole," Midnight remarks. "What if I find out I don't even like fries?" "Don't worry, I'll eat em then. Maybe I'll even let you have some of my brisket to even out. Fair?" >"Alright. But why don't I just get two sandwiches then?" "Because I want fries and onion rings." >Midnight narrows her eyes at you, her brow creasing in disapproval. >"Pig." "Pony." >"...that's not even an insult," she says, briefly dumbstruck by the comment. "I thought we were just naming off animals now." >"Just - fine," Midnight finally relents. "I'll take fries and... what else do you have to drink?" >"We have lemonade if you don't want soda. Or iced tea, sweet tea - we do have water, but it would still be the same price as any other drink." >"That's fine, he's the one paying, anyways," giving you a smarmy grin. >The waitress hurriedly scrawls it all down. >"Alright, I'll get this in and it should be out to ya shortly," she quickly announces, before shooting off toward the main building at an even quicker pace. "Wow, you really got her all confused." >"I can't believe they let you out in public." >Midnight's brooding voice causes you to turn back to her, flashing an innocent smile. "No one can stop me is the problem." >"Do you think she will actually come back with our orders?" >Just from the way she says that and the look on her face, Midnight is genuine with that question. "I'm sure she's seen things more dysfunctional than that whole menagerie," you reassure her. "Plus, look on the bright side - she thought you were a bot." >"I don't think she paid very much attention," she remarks, sounding just a touch unhappy with the observation. >You shrug, uncertain what Midnight wants or even expects from others. "Does it matter? You want to blend in, right?" >"Well yeah, obviously." "So why does it bother you she didn't pay much attention?" >"I don't know!" Midnight snaps, frustrated by your questions. >Or perhaps her own mixed emotions. >It doesn't make much sense to you, that is certain. "You do realize I'm not trying to get under your skin with these questions, right?" >Midnight just stares at you. "I'm legitimately just talking about the last thirty seconds or so, not while the waitress was here," you make sure to clarify. >"I know. I still find it hard to believe you pulled that bullshit." "Do you at least see my point how wanting attention while trying to avoid much attention conflict with each other?" >She nods reluctantly instead of offering any sort of verbal response.

>>4929 >With things settled down, you scan the rest of the drive-in patrons. >There's only two other cars, both parked some ways away, neither of which you recognize. >To be fair, it is a weeknight - but you would still have expected there to be more people here. >It's not even eight o'clock yet. >Whatever - it's everyone else's loss. >"How much longer do you think you will keep the junkyard open to self-service?" >Your focus returns to your friend in the passenger seat. "Sort of depends on how things look in terms of money. That and we really ought to advertise or mention to the public ahead of time that we will be going behind closed doors at a certain time. I know I wouldn't be happy to show up somewhere and abruptly find out they don't do walk-ins." >"Fair point - but what exactly are you looking for in terms of money? Any set goal?" "Profit for once, maybe?" you suggest. >Again, Midnight only stares at you dumbfounded. >"When was the last time you bothered to check your computer in terms of revenue?" "I... got into the habit of avoiding it, to be frank." >Midnight can only put a hoof to her head in response to that confession. "At least I didn't lie about it." >"Yes - but if you had bothered to look, you would see we have already begun making a profit for this month - early last week." "Are you screwing with me right now?" you cautiously ask. >"I assure you I am not." >Holy shit. >There is still just over a week left to go in this month, and you're already up for the month. >What is this sorcery?! >You can't contain yourself even if you wanted to, as you grin madly at the wonderful news. >Even Midnight can't help but smile. >But the poor, poor mare... >You end up leaning over and wrapping your arms around her, hugging her tight. >"Ow, what the hell are you doing, dummy?!" she squawks. "Thank you, holy shit, this is amazing! Why didn't you tell me before?!" you exclaim. >Despite the outburst, Midnight has not really put forth an effort to get away from you. >"I didn't think you were that ignorant, why are you doing this?" "Just shut up and deal with it," you say, now curious as to how far you can push your luck. >Apparently farther than you expected, as you feel one of Midnight's wings brush past you. >"Hurry the hell up, people are probably staring at us," she mumbles uncomfortably after a few seconds. "Alright, alright." >You finally sit back upright while Midnight inspects her fanned-out wing. "Everything okay?" you ask, feeling a bit concerned at the unexpected sight. >"You are very weird, I want you to know that," she mutters. "I was asking about your wing." >Midnight finally looks up at you, though does not seem overly concerned. >"It's a matter of getting used to the sensation of these, I guess," she replies. "I've had them for quite a while now, but I haven't ever really used them to... feel." "You mean hug?" >"That's your word, not mine," she sharply responds, averting her eyes. >Riiight.

>>4930 "Anyway - that's absolutely awesome we're already ahead." >"That is something we can both agree on, Anon." >The waitress from earlier skates by with a pair of drinks in a holder. >"Here's these for right now, food will be out shortly - gonna come out to sixteen-fifty tonight." "Alrighty," you say, setting down the drinks she handed to you and fetching your wallet. >A handoff of a twenty-dollar bill, and the gal zips off once again. "See? All is good, we didn't traumatize her," you say jokingly, pulling out the cup holders and setting each beverage down inside before inserting the straws. >Midnight inspects at the cup nearest to her seat. >More specifically, the straw that sticks out of it. >Must be she's never seen nor used a straw before. >Rather than make it awkward for her, you pretend to not notice, grabbing your own drink and demonstrating how it works - albeit in a somewhat exaggerated fashion. >"I'm not surprised you want to show off how good you are at sucking things," Midnight abruptly ribs you. "Did you want me to laugh at you for not knowing what a straw is?" you quickly reply. >"I don't recall ever saying that..." >She puts a hoof to her chin, as if trying to reminisce about such an event. >After holding that pose for a moment, she finally shrugs as a long piece of metal wire she's begun to keep intertwined in her necklace chain floats through the air toward her cup. >It wraps itself around the styrofoam vessel elegantly, before the whole cup floats toward Midnight. >She takes a sip while eyeing you, unable to keep herself from giving you a mischievous grin. "I see how it is. Guess I'm eating your fries." >"No, you won't." >Once again, your waitress rolls up, this time with two open top boxes packed with food. >"Here you are, this is the one with fries," she says while handing it off to you. >Grabbing it with one hand, you use the other to take several fresh fries out and jam them in your mouth. >"You dickhead!" Midnight shouts before you set it down beside her on the armrest. >The waitress looks at you wide-eyed in surprise as she hands off the second part of the order. "Sorry about that, she's got a potty mouth," you quip. "Keep the change for your troubles." >That last bit quickly snaps the blonde from her stupor and puts a big smile on her face. >"Thanks! Enjoy your meal, you two!" >With that, she's finally released from the horror you have unleashed upon the world. >"Give me an onion ring, I want to try one," Midnight demands as you get comfortable again. "No way," you scoff. >"You just ate some of my fries!" "That I ordered for you, remember?" you say, finishing off with a shit-eating grin. >Her nostrils flare as she snorts in disapproval. >You get everything situated before grabbing an onion ring and lightly tossing it into her box. "You didn't really think I was going to be that much of a prick, did you?" >"Half the time, I don't know what to expect from you." "Someday you'll learn," you chide. "Now, let's eat." -----

What's the story on Deathlight? Are there any greens of her?

>>4931 Super cute scene at the dine in there. Really felt like she was starting to loosen up (though perhaps a bit too much around the waitress ^:) Good news about the business as well. And Midnight got hugged! This makes me happy. Anon didn't even incur any physical damage because of it so even better. Things seem to be going well, I wonder what the next suprise that world is going to throw at them. Thanks for another great update Auto.

>>4942 Not yet, If we had more writefags then there would be since it's been requested. but for now she is a persistent idea that stuck around after the initial funposting in pic related Spoilers. To me cozy-demon takes place in the same universe as Deathlight's, but she may or may not make an appearance. Both Golly and Death are for a fun way to approach supernatural bootleg, kind of like Tinny

>>4885 >"We're soul alone, and soul really matters to me! Take a look around..." >"You're out of touch! I'm out of time! But I'm out of my head when you're not around!" >You recognize that song >That song always plays at work >Wait >What? >The fresh blast of AC against your face and the impact of the song knocks you into your head >What just happened? >You were just at Anon's apartment... >Right? >You immediately check your body for any cuts or marks >Nothing "...Anon?" >You're dressed as normal but the store is empty >You check outside and it is black as pitch out >...This is not normal >You've seen enough horror movies to know what's going on >Immediately you start running through the isles "Anon!? ANON! Answer me!" >You hear him before you see him >"You're out of touch... I'm out of time..." "Anon?! Come on, speak to me!" >You nearly stumble while growing a full-blown sprint >If there's anywhere he would be, it would be with the paints >"But I'm out of my head... but I'm out of my head..." >You hang your arm out and cause a display piece on the end of the isle to fly out and crash onto the floor "Anon!" >You see him >In his usual clothing >Down on his knees >Staring at his hands >He looks up at you >His eyes aren't bleeding! >"...bull in a china shop much?" >THAT is his reaction to this?! "THAT IS YOUR REACTION TO THIS?!" >He smiles >He isn't happy but he's smiling >"I'm sorry, Fi." >He looks back down at his hands >You rush up to him >His hands are pouring blood >But it doesn't smell like blood >It smells like fresh paint or something >You kneel down to him "Anon, let's go, we have to get out of here." >"Nah. There's... no real escape out of here. I've tried." >"What? What do you mean? Where are we?" >"I can only answer one question at a time... listen, just calm down. Ok? When you get tired here, sleeping doesn't actually get you rested up." >He's staring at his hands still >... >Is he? "Why are your hands bleeding?" >"Look." >You lean over to look down >It isn't his hands he's looking at >It's the puddle of red growing on the ground >You see... you >A pair of hands are applying alcohol to your wounds >The pony doll trots along the back of the couch and jumps up onto the top of your head >"ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᶦn ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ. ᵖˡᵃʸ nᶦᶜᵉ." "...who is she talking to?" >"(ʸᵒᵘ). ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦˢ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ, ᶦˢn'ᵗ ᶦᵗ?" >You feel your blood run cold "...Anon. What is happening?" >You back away from the pool, out of sight >"I... think you're our new project. I think." >He sounds exhausted "...ok. What does that mean, exactly?" >If this is what you think, you can't escape from here >Because you are actually still on the couch >Is this heaven? >Hell? >Purgatory?

>>4966 >"This is her 'play pen'. It's where she puts me when she's busy." >Why did he say that? >"Your thoughts are pretty loud. They're on the shelf too." "W... what shelf?" >He isn't looking at any shelves >The shelves in front of him are just of paints, like normal >The shelves behind him >What is this?! >Your thoughts are on the shelf! >In a fit of panic, you scream and slap th e wo rdsof foft he shelf>Theyfalloffand endupinpilesonthefloor>Thewords givenphysicalfo rmbreakapa rt>S omesticktogether >You stumble backwards and fall onto your butt "This is unreal... this is insane." >"That's what I've been saying." >You look at Anon >He's still watching "...can you still influence your body like this?" >"I want to say 'yes' but I don't think I can. I think if I really try hard enough she lets it happen." >Freaking out and panicking isn't the way to go about this >Even if you wanted to, you believe him when he says that sleeping here won't let you recover "...what is it?" >"She's... my friend. I guess." >He guesses? "You guess?" >You try to ignore how neatly these words fit on the shelves >They're all those cheap wooden letters that you see children buy for school science projects >"I guess. I really don't know what else she is. She did something to my eyes." "Yeah... I guess I saw." >Hall & Oats still plays over the speakers "Did you really not have any other place your mind could retreat to?" >You can't stop yourself from giggling "I mean, you hate it here. I mean, I do too. But still." >Anon chuckles >"Ahh... don't I know it. But you know as well as I do. I'm either here, at the Walmart or at home." "And that includes memorizing all of the songs?" >He shakes his head and lets out a painfully heavy sigh >"Bruh, I could be a fucking zombie right now for all I know and I will be more haunted by these shit 80s songs more than I'll ever be haunted by anything else. I'll be the fucking Michael Jackson zombie grabbing my crotch-which will have fallen off by then-and stiffly dancing to this seven seasons from now." >The words linger in the air as well as on the shelf >Within a split second of each other, you're both laughing "Well... I guess we're stuck here together at least then." >You really aren't in that much of a position better than him, to be honest >But you do like helping out when exasperated parents come in, asking where the school or art supplies are >If you had a kid of your own you could probably help with any science or art project known to man with your knowledge >If you could ever have a kid anymore "...hey Anon. Am I gonna die?" >"I don't know, Fi. But she's having me take care of those cuts." "Oh... thanks, I guess. That still hurt." >"I know, Fi... I'm sorry." >The man sounds so crestfallen >You aren't sure what to say >He wouldn't do this on purpose >You know that much >The speakers have changed to a different song >Some sort of smooth jazz muzak "...there food here?" >"Break room in the back still has soda and shit from what we had last month. It resupplies when I'm not looking at it and it makes me feel better so I guess it's legit." "Oh... awesome." >You let the words hang in the proverbial air and sit on the literal shelf >You nudge his arm with yours "Hey. Let's get something to drink and put our heads together. Alright." >Anon blinks a few times over the course of what feels like entire minutes >"...Alright." "Alright?" >"Yeah... alright." "Well alright thing." >You stand up and brush yourself off >And hold out your hand "We'll figure something out. It's not like we don't have unlimited time or something, right?"

>>4967 Really feeling like some sort of fever dream. >>4966 >You're out of touch... I'm out of time... Probably my favorite Hall and Oates song. Nice.

>>4931 "All things considered, was tonight as awful as you thought it would be?" >You coast to a stop and put the truck in park in its usual spot while awaiting Midnight's final verdict. >The food was top-notch, but the stress of the day had caught up with you by the time both you and her finished up. >You didn't have any other plans than food, but it still feels like a missed opportunity to show her more things. >"To be fair, I never said I thought it would be awful," Midnight clarifies. "Oh, I know, I'm just giving you shit." >"It was nice to see more of the world, nonetheless." "That's what I was hoping to hear." >Midnight exhales, looking out the windshield at the dusky skyline over the rows of cars. >"I guess I've gotten a little bit spooked since Teddy was able to pick me out so easily. It isn't that I don't want to do things, I've just - there's a lot more insecurity there." "I sort of figured that. You were all gung-ho about opening up shop yourself that day - that hasn't happened since." >"No. Funny how this was supposed to make me feel better," she replies, tapping the crescent moon charm. "You'll get there again. I just might have to help you stray from your comfort zone once in a while. Don't think I'm doing it just to be an ass." >Midnight nods, though you can tell she's still hesitant to be in full agreement to explore the world. "Shit like tonight is all I'm after, Middie," you continue in an effort to clear her reservations a bit more. "I'm not out to explore the uncharted areas of the world or sightsee - I just want us to be able to get out once in a while and try things other than my rudimentary cooking and the same bland tv shows every night." >"Your food isn't *that* bad," she scoffs. "Would you rather what I would have served up tonight, or what we ended up having?" >"That brisket was really damn good, I'll give you that," she yields. "But you also are a pain in the ass to be around." "Don't lie, it was fun," you retort. >"Maybe a little bit." >Good enough. >With that statement, Midnight opens her door and hops out, leaving you to mirror her exit on your side of the truck. >You join her side very shortly on the walk to the shop, in part thanks to Midnight taking her sweet time. >Despite that, you have enough time to note the way her violet-streaked tail swishes back and forth with every step she takes, the sauntering, saying movement drawing your eyes toward it. >You never noticed before, but Midnight actually has a pretty damn nice caboose... >And the way those markings just seem to frame it... >And there's the full complement - >... >Holy shit dude, really? >Are you really going there? >What the fuck are you doing? >You fucking degenerate. >You would blame it on the alcohol, but you haven't had any in a while. >Head out of the gutter right now, Anon. >This is a dangerous zone. >Why does Midnight do this to you? >Why now? >"Do you think we could ever go to a car show?" "Hm?"

>>4987 >"A car show. A gathering of older cars and stuff like that," Midnight explains. "I've seen pictures of cars mentioning being taken at a show like that online - are those still a thing?" >Thank god, something to shift your perverted mind. "Yeah, I'm sure they are," you say, somewhat surprised by the inquiry and interest. "You know those end up being pretty busy gatherings though, right?" >"It didn't look like there were tons of people in the pictures, though..." she trails off, perplexed by your answer. "You probably really weren't looking for people when it's the car you were focusing on." >"It sounds pretty stupid when you say it like that." "Not at all. I can't say I'm the most observant person. You've had to point out the dumb shit I've done in the past - and some of that was truly dumb." >"Regardless, I'm not cut out for that kind of thing, I'm pretty sure you will agree with me." "I don't see why we can't make that a goal, though. Work our way up to that point by doing little things like tonight. I know you can handle it with enough experience." >"Fair enough. I didn't realize those were really... gatherings." "Yeah, every car has an owner that either drives it or trailers it there - it's not like a museum or something like that. I'm guessing that's what you were thinking - like a permanent display?" >She nods. >Your mind flicks back to something else from tonight. "How about we set another goal tonight?" >"That being..." "No more self-deprecation. No more talk about how you're a freak." >"Why does that piss you off so much all of a sudden?" "Because what you are isn't your fault - why belittle yourself over things that were completely out of your control?" >"It isn't like that at all," she dismissively shoots back, pointing a hoof to the locked man door of the shop. >You fiddle with your keys and unlock it, opening the door for her and following behind. "Then what is it? Remember the first week or so with me - you boasted about how amazing you were. Above any other pony, smarter than me, need I go on?" >"No." "What happened to where I'm now trying to prevent you from basically insulting yourself? I don't get it, so try and help me understand." >"It was something to keep me going," she replies dryly. "I dont know... I needed to feel like I had a purpose, that I was something special. Above everyone, everything else. And then - well, that sort of just goes away when someone takes a look at you and just separates you into individual things that compose your makeup." >You can't help but feel you had a hand in that when trying to reason her mannerisms. >Meanwhile, Midnight grimaces as she finishes, clearly ashamed of her own admittance. "God damn, that whole thing with Teddy and my comments really rattled you that much?" >That came out far harsher than you meant it to be, but this explanation is beyond anything you expected. >She's tough - but...

>>4988 >"That makes me feel a lot better, thanks," she hisses, trotting up the steps to your living space. "Midnight, do you really hate yourself that much?" >Midnight pauses before opening the door and slipping through, allowing you to scale the stairs and join her at the landing. >Her jaw is clenched as she just stares at the door. >"I hate what I stand for, Anon. I hate what I symbolize - greed." >She stomps a hoof down. >"At the end of it all, that's the only reason why I have the sentience that I do. It's all about money, isn't it? It could have been any other pony that they decided to toy with - I just happened to be the one chosen for this marvelous experiment." "Why even focus on that, if that were the case?" >Midnight turns her head to look at you. >"I... what do you mean?" "If your origins aren't that special, why focus on them? Acknowledge where you came from, but other than that - you just need to let it go. All it's doing is dragging you down. The parts and pieces don't matter to me - you're one hundred percent genuine pony, as far as I'm concerned. If that helps, I mean." >You kneel down beside her, honing in on the wing on her left side. >"Wh-what are you doing?" she stammers, recoiling a bit. >Rather than answer her, you just inspect her joints and the transition where her wing joins her body. >There is legitimately nothing that would tell you that these limbs never belonged to her from birth. >The feathers aren't the same color as her coat, but they complement it well with the similar dark hue and fit with the lighter shade of violet in her mane. >Maybe there would be something below the fur, like scar tissue - but really, that's trivial in nature. "Middie, have you ever really looked at your wings?" you ask. "Because if you had never told me they were cybernetic add-ons, I could never tell the difference." >You can tell just from her turning away, she's embarrassed - yet she nonetheless fans her wing out. >Damn, these things are massive. >Sure, she's spread them out before in a show of defiance or intimidation, but you've never appreciated their sheer size. >To be fair, she's a big pony - she probably needs these to this scale to get her off the ground. >Just one is probably close to being as wide as she is tall - maybe closer to your height. >But it's not at full span - there's not enough space on the landing with the close proximity of the wall to your left. >It really is amazing she can control these - and the fact they are synthetic in nature. >You take a moment to feel the incredibly soft down - a sensation that makes Midnight twitch just a bit. "I stand by what I said. Only you know the true nature of these." >"And you want me to ignore that." "I want you to take pride in yourself again. You shouldn't be ashamed. Above all else, make peace with yourself and accept it." >Her wing folds away neatly once again as she circles around and faces you.

>>4989 "No more talk of being a freak, alright? I like you for you right now. Think of yourself as one in a million - how far you've come, what you're capable of accomplishing." >"You're just making things weird now," she says with a half-laugh, shaking her head. >But she can't hide those eyes, and they speak volumes as they shift back and forth across the floor between you two. >Midnight doesn't know what to say. >She's probably never heard anything quite like that. >But you mean it. >She really is one in a million. >You can't put your finger on it - nothing particularly specific, at least - but Midnight just draws you in on another level. >You're liable to become one of those degenerates that likes their pony a little too much. >You might be able to reconcile that judgment as premature now. >Just as you start to reach up to her cheek with your hand, she abruptly finds her footing. >"Alright, dumb-dumb, we got work tomorrow. Hopefully, it won't be as much of a clusterfuck as today was, yeah?" >With that, she turns and opens the door, walking into the kitchen and leaving you still kneeling on the landing. >Whether she had any inkling or not of what you were battling there is hard to say. >Perhaps it was fortuitous timing on her part. >Hopefully that's what it was. >Though she might have just dick-stomped you had she known. >Regardless, you need to reel yourself in again. >Tonight was a good night, and you're damn lucky to not have just spoiled it by sprinting toward the finish line. >You wish you could think of a way to test the waters, to see if there is any sort of feelings reciprocated without risking the whole jackpot. >But her mood can be so fickle, it would be hard to know what is genuine, anyway. >With a sigh, you rise back to your feet, focusing on the little victories tonight. >Hopefully, you have at least helped her begin to overcome the skittishness she's developed. >It really is hard to believe that shook her up so much. >But when you focus on your past like she has - particularly the negatives - you suppose it's only a matter of time before one starts looking for confirmation that those items are catching up with you even as you try to leave it behind. >She needs to keep stepping forward, looking forward. >With a new goal, that may help her. >It may help you focus, too. -----

>>4990 Interesting times ahead, definitely a change coming about in Midnight. Thanks Auto.

>>4990 This has been an enjoyable read from start to present. Thanks Anon.

>>5004 >>5008 Glad to hear it. This is probably the most enjoyment I've ever gotten out of writing. Speaking of which, I forgot to update here... >>4990 >Saturday evening. >It means a day of freedom tomorrow. >The last day or two have been relatively smooth, which was a nice change of pace after dealing with multiple instances of the tin worm having wrought havoc on parts you needed. >Midnight has done a great job compiling an inventory of everything out in the junkyard - but it's still incomplete, and it's not foolproof. >You had to reply back to an online order and cancel it - you don't have any decklids for a first-generation Barracuda that aren't rotted out. >That was sort of embarrassing - but it happens. >At least the customer didn't seem too upset about it. >Perhaps you need to start advertising you take in or will purchase cars. >After all, it isn't like you have an unlimited supply - and you have not gotten in anything for a few weeks now. >The last one was some '80s Buick shitbox. >You can't even be bothered to remember what it was for certain, other than it not being a Regal or a Grand National. >So, in essence - yeah, shit. "Hey Midnight, whatcha doing?" >Midnight sits beside you as normal, honed in on the laptop screen in front of her. >"What does it look like I'm doing?" she replies in a dull, almost zoned-out manner. "Reading something, I would assume." >"Very astute observation, Anon!" she says in a far too peppy manner as she faces you. "My word, you have gotten so smart! Did you graduate at the top of your special-ed class?" "Man, you read about some weird shit if you know what the hell those are," you reply. "And kitty certainly has her claws at the ready tonight. Wow." >"I recall you asking me to take pride in myself again like I used to - I assumed you wanted the whole package," she replies in a calm manner, light years away from just a moment ago. "Eh, it took me by surprise more than anything," you say, dismissing any concern she might be trying to mask. "Though it hurts that you remind me I barely passed my final window-licking exam. Fortunately, I'm a top-notch crayon-eater." >You manage to get a snort of laughter from that stupid comment. >"Are you just trying to make small talk, or did you actually have something to discuss?" "I was wondering if maybe you could set up something like an advertisement or a note on the website that we buy vintage scrap. I would think it was obvious, but it can't help to try something, right?" >"I could probably do something like that, it should be relatively straightforward," she replies as her makeshift tool skitters across the laptop keyboard. "Already trying to spend what profit we have for the month this far?" "No, I'm not that cocky. You have seen the kind of crap I've bought - some of those cars from the '80s will probably never get touched. I was thinking of older cars, parts from older cars, that sort of thing." >"Are you thinking of a specific cap in terms of year that you will accept?" she questions further as the screen in front of her brings up your junkyard's webpage.

>>5027 >You scratch your head, trying to mull a reasonable cutoff. >There really isn't one. >To cut it off after the '70s would be ignoring the market for third-generation GM pony cars, the Camaro and Trans Am. > There are Fox-body Mustangs to consider, as well. >Sure, both have a wide range of aftermarkets - but they don't reproduce everything. >And there are a few sticklers that only want OEM parts. "No, leave it open. I'll just have to sort through anything we get, be it by phone or via email. >Midnight steals a glance at you from the corner of her eye. >"Then you're going to have to show more restraint than you have in the past, just going off of what you have described to me," she lectures you. "I know. I have enough trash out there that doesn't sell, I really don't need to add to it. Probably ought to see if I can't straight up get rid of some of it, depending on the price of steel right now." >"Hm?" >Midnight directs her full attention toward you now, intrigued by your vocalized thoughts. "Basically hand shit off to someone that actually processes and melts down steel. They'll pay me based on the market price of scrap per ton." >"And you don't do that with shit you know you'll never use... why?" "I do have to pay to have someone come out and pick the shit up. The trailer I used to have kicked the bucket, so I don't have the option of hauling it myself. Plus, that was only a car at a time." >Midnight doesn't say anything - merely bringing a hoof to her face and obscuring her eyes. >"So, in other words, another way to make money that you have been missing out on," she remarks, unenthused. "Not really. Scrap prices have been in the toilet for some time now. Almost couldn't give the shit away," you refute. >"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," she relents, albeit with a wary tone. "That being said, I don't really feel like working on this tonight - I'm just going to make a note of it all." "That's fine, I was just suggesting it for the time being. But..." >You trail off, wanting to pique her interest again. >The sounds of keystrokes stop after a few more seconds. >"What?" "Do you want to go with me and get groceries tonight?" >"That... doesn't really sound exciting." "Well, it really isn't," you admit. "But it's something that has to be done. And maybe you will spot something that tickles your fancy as far as foodstuffs." >"Anon, I am a very dull mare when it comes to taste. You know that." "What's that? Do I hear an excuse to get out of working on your social skills?" you announce, cupping your hand behind your ear. >"Oh, what's this? Is a tremendous faggot talking to himself again?" Midnight fires back, mirroring your gesture. "You realize doing that basically acknowledged me, right?" >"I follow my own rules." "Anyway, I'm either doing it tonight or tomorrow, and I'm dragging you along with me. It's your choice." >She makes a face of disgust, not unlike a rebellious teenager reacting to a parent's orders.

>>5028 >"Fine. Let's get it done now," she grumbles. "You act like I'm pulling your teeth, Middie. Remember that *you* are the one that suggested visiting a car show at some point, and you do need to get out more before we can do that." >"I know that, but - grocery shopping? Really?" "I wasn't aware you had experience with this before," you taunt her. >"I don't. It sounds incredibly dull. Go in, pick out shit, and pay. Wow-wee." "You know I can make anything interesting." >"You mean you can act like a retard in public," she replies, giving you a knowing glance. "Tomato, tomahto," you reply with an innocent smile and a shrug of the shoulders. >She just slowly shakes her head at that. "On the plus side, it takes the heat off of you, right?" >"I'm not going to condone anything that you do, Anon," she says. "That just makes me want to have even more fun." >"Ugh." >It doesn't take too long to go through the rituals of heading downstairs, getting the truck, and the opening and closing procedures of the gate out front. >You're quickly off on the open road again. >And once again, the headlights are on this late evening. >You two already had dinner, so it is purely a stop and shop trip. "Is there anything at all you've been hankering for?" you ask, trying to spur some conversation. >"I don't have a lot of experience in regards to food. You know that, right?" she questions back, glancing at you briefly before her eyes return to the windscreen. >...that makes sense. >As an experiment, she probably didn't get anything special in regards to food at the facility she came from. "What did you eat before that gamey shit out back?" >She shrugs. >"Some tasteless gruel. Certainly wasn't anything to reminisce about," she muses. "It kept me alive, and I suppose it might have been a step better than some of those junkyard rats. But that isn't saying much." "It does mean you have all of Flavortown to visit and explore," you joke. >You get a deadpan stare, Midnight's eyes faintly glowing in the dim cab. >"What the fuck does that even mean?" "Don't worry about it." >"Aaanyway - it was just mush, probably some meat byproduct or something. The only time it really had a taste was after waking up with something new." "What do you mean?" >Midnight ruffles her wings a bit, at the same time her eyes glow just a bit brighter. >Oh. "Basically some sort of medicine or some shit added." >"Yep." "Did they at least fucking tell you what they were doing beforehand?" you ask, your voice rising in time with the bile in your throat. >"'Something new'." "I'm sorry to hear that," is all you can muster, not letting your mind conjure up that scene. >"I know you are. But we're taking steps forward now, not backward, right?" >Atta girl. >You can tell she was serious when she said that. >And she didn't seem too upset discussing that short tidbit, either. >Hopefully she continues moving forward like this. "Absolutely. Maybe that term will find a more positive use this evening while we go shopping. Find something new to munch on." >"You're starting to get tired of burgers almost every night aren't you?" she proposes. "I tell you time and time again that it's not an issue for me to just eat it cold, but you won't listen to me." "I'm sorry, did you say something?" >"And you wonder why 'kitty has claws,' as you say." "And I wouldn't change a thing. Don't ever get them clipped." -----

>>5030 I wonder what sort of oddities Midnight will select from the store. Perhaps find a desert that is to her liking. Keep up the good work with the story.

Just dipping in to say the golly green hasnt been shelved just got carried up in some other autism atm. some news: /bootleg/ is going to be part of a big new wiki

>>5057 And another dumbfuck ban. I don't even use /gif/ and have a static IP

>>5082 Maybe your ISP uses shared IPs?

>>5083 I don't know, it's pretty gay. Now I know how longname felt when he got banned during the bootleg CYOA. Anyways, now back to evil fills. >>4878 >Without a word more you stood up from the table with your arm hooked under her barrel and head off with your pocketsized pony in tow. >It was time to go punch down on some encrusted keys after firing up your pc. >"Put me down! I can move on my own!" "Cozy Girl, I've only known you for less than a day but if I know my Golly like I know my Golly she'd follow around like a puppy." >"Hey! I'm not a puppy, I'm a pony!" she protested proudly, plushy or not. "I know, but I'd leave you alone in the kitchen, be sitting in my chair... then hear the pitter patter of little hooves..." "You come in." "Then the trap would be sprung" "And like a villain, I'd make a fancy scene out of it" >She hung silently before you swung her up over your shoulder for a nice perch. "Figure that since since we're all being upfront about our feelings and everything I'd just cut straight to the chase." >That was enough to get a little quip out of her "You? You're a villain?" *Snrk* "Psh oh yes, stick around kid and we'll have some fun tomorrow night." >You wink a super cheesey and obvious wink. >It could only be cheesier if you narrated it outloud. "Count on it" >"Well, I'll guess I can think about it.." Tapping her chin while a tiny smile blossomed while the little gears began to work in her little head. >"You so sure make it sound good, and I could give you some tips on your villainy." "That's the spirit!"

>>5102 >The night inches on. >Despite your earlier bonding and proposition for future funtimes, Miss Glow had chosen to sit down on your night table to the side. >Once you sat down the filly had struggled and squirmed right out of your hands, keeping her distance and guard up while you shitposted away. >You know what's going on, she was just far enough away to be out of arms length. >But now with a groan it seems like your newest patient couldn't really decide on what kind of treatment she wanted. >"Anon you've been at this for so long, what are you doing and why can't I see?" >You know better than to let impressionable young minds get corrupted by the deepdarkest web. >You glanced over seeing her her hooves buried into her muzzle. >But more importantly, has it really been that that long? >You swing your chair back to face her. >You just smile with your hands on your knees leaning forward. "Has it really been that long...?" >"Yes, it's been a really long-" >Your brain had tuned out her complaining fading away into happy thoughts as your dimples creeped up, ready to spring "Since..." >"Since..." "I haven't given you some upsies!?" >Really caught her off guard with that one, you watched her stumbled back on her hooves in shock a step or two >Hooves went up defensively "W-Wait hold on mister!" >You reached for her but it was too late, the best you could do was call her as she tumbled over the edge. "G.G. NO!" >There was a painful pause, you are almost scared to go see. >A moment later a ruffled mane peeked out from behind the wooden corner to your relief "Oof. You okay girl? That was quite a spill." >"Uohhh" The only response was a dizzy one. >You cursed yourself for being to slow. >And damn gravity for existing. >Sure it's useful most of the time... >But in the ONE moment that it could hurt your Golly, it shouldn't have. >"Uhhgh no thanks" "..." "No... upsies?"

>>5103 >Weighing your options here as she nodded. "No... upsies... No more upsies..." >Seems like something was making her a little nauseous, cringing holding back a gag. >But that doesn't sound right. >For the first time you had a frown on >She must still be dizzy, and not thinking right. >You stood up slow and make your way over to lift her up out of her daze before you froze in place. "HHHHG" "Hold that thought, Golly!" >Your hands went straight for your head and gripped it your temples, keeling over "UAAAAAAGHH!" >"Oh golly what's happening now??" "It's TERRIBLE GOLLY" >You're now crawling on the ground towards her with one hand cupped around your prized icecream. "The dreaded... BRAIN FREEEZE" >"Well stop eating it, what's wrong with you?!" >You couldn't bare parting with your sweet treat anymore than you can part with your bittersweet Golly. >You managed to muster up a silver hedgehog quote, appropriate for the situation. "It's no use!" "There's only one thing you can do for BRAIN FREEZE before it takes over.." >"Well what is it? Hurry up Anon, and tell me I didn't mean for this to happen" "It's company!" >Her mouth opens to comment, but you slipped a big spoonfull right into her mouth before she got even one more syllable out. >Scrunch >Well she did react, almost instantly too, but that's not the kind you hoped for. "Nothing?" >She won't reply just keeps on scrunching and turned away, it looks like the disease was getting worse for your poor Golly girl. >She might have a case of the Tsunderes >You sigh defeated for the moment. "Yeah, maybe rocky road isn't your thing..."

>>5030 >Another trek out of your comfort zone. >How exciting. >Anon pulls into the parking lot of a big box store in town, which gets your nerves going again. > It's frustrating. >You never really felt like this before. >Then again, you did not have anything to lose until fairly recently. >You didn't believe anyone could pick you out from a glance. >Both of those recent developments have admittedly fucked with your mind and your confidence. >And then there's Anon... >Where to even start? >He's... different. >Not necessarily in a bad way - he is surprisingly alright. >You don't detest him like you did that first week. >...you don't know if you really ever hated him, though. >You just didn't know whether you could trust him. >And you didn't want to seem like you were asking for his help. >Because you weren't. >Not technically. >He wasn't thrilled with the prospect either. >Now - well, things have turned a complete one-eighty, haven't they? >He's more mellow, open, and in general a positive person. >And he helps you out any way he can. >Even when you were treating him like shit. >...that's bothered you. >He didn't really deserve that. >Anon has thick skin though, and to some degree, enjoys the sarcasm and the shots directed toward him. >'All in good fun,' as he says. >Still, with as much as he's aided you with your issues, and gone out of his way to protect you no despite your ill-tempered demeanor, he has proven to be a genuine friend. >Friend. >That's a word you never expected to use. >Nonetheless, you've cut back on your jabs, because you don't feel that same need for distance from everyone. >Not him, at least. >You trust him. >But he does like making an ass of himself. >What kind of shenanigans will he demonstrate tonight? >You wait for him to hop out of the truck before following his lead. >As much as you hate it, this world's focus is on ponies being subservient to humans. >Best to play the part, considering this is the most populated place you've ever experienced. >...you aren't nervous. >You're just acutely aware of the inherent dangers being out and about possesses. >Even with this chip around your neck. >Which you aren't even one hundred percent sure will work. >It looks fantastic, though. >You feel almost naked taking it off to shower or when delving deep into a particularly grimy project. >Now is the moment of truth, though. >This store is bound to have passive scanners that detect the presence of a chip. >But you don't know what to expect. >Will there be some sort of audible or visual confirmation? >Is it all just left up to "surprise, you're caught!" sort of thing? >Why you never bothered to find some information about such scenarios is beyond you. >But you regret it now as the sliding doors automatically open upon approach. >"Hey, you okay?" >You look over to see Anon staring at you. >He isn't bothering to hide his concern >You must have given off some sort of indicator that this is uncomfortable.

>>5108 "Fucking peachy," you instinctively snap back. >"It will work, just relax," he says, patting you on the side. >...when did you start letting him do that? >Or touching you in general? >You don't really get why he's suddenly like that. >It isn't bad. > It's just... >Different. >He wanders over to the left to fetch a cart once inside, hesitating for a moment as he glances between two different types. >One is a standard, run-of-the-mill ordinary shopping cart. >...the other is a cartoonish automobile-shaped contraption with the basket and push handle set behind a front end complete with seat and steering wheel. >"I don't think you will fit in that one, sorry," he says, pointing at the child cart and turning back to you with a somber face. >And so it begins. "Grab a cart, stupid. I don't want to be here all night." >He follows your instructions and grabs a normal one, rejoining your side as both of you head through the scanners. >Moment of truth... >You both pass beyond them without a sound. >Absolutely no indications whatsoever whether they even work. >At some point, you've stopped dead in your tracks. >Anon has, too. >"It's not supposed to do anything. I looked it up," he leans over and whispers. "We're good." >You exhale, a sense of relief washing over you. >So this pendant is genuine. >That's a major load off of your mind. >At least Anon had the sense to check that. >Now, you follow his lead as he heads toward the back of the store. >It is relatively quiet in here despite the number of people. >To be fair, the parking lot did not even look half full of cars - but this is more people than you've ever seen at once. >You pass four or five shoppers, who don't seem to pay you any mind. >Surprsing, considering you think you cut a striking figure. >Which isn't ideal, obviously. >Most people look like they're focused on their objective and their shopping list, rather than their surroundings. >"Mommy, look at the pony!" you hear a high-pitched voice shriek from your right side. >You turn your head to see a little girl in a shopping cart down an aisle way, the aforementioned mother browsing a shelf of canned goods. >"Indoor voice, please," she casually instructs her child, not bothering to look at you. >The child is certainly excited, staring at you wide-eyed with a big, vapid smile. >You press onward, head pointed forward once again. >Anon doesn't comment at all, which surprises you. >You expected something about being cute or some shit. "So what exactly are we looking for? You seem like you're on a mission." >"I always start at the back and work my way forward, since that's where the checkout registers are," he explains, just as he turns down the last aisle, amidst coolers lined with frozen product. >"Just have a gander as we wander around, and if you see something you like, point it out to me." >Of course, the first thing you see at the start of this area is nothing of interest to your stomach. >Vegetables and greens.

>>5109 >Not bad when combined with stuff more to your palate, but alone? >No way. >Anon walks along at a leisurely pace, he himself also perusing the glass doors. >"I know you hated that chicken bacon ranch kind, which I swore I would never get again but did you like regular pizza?" he asks, pointing to the next section. "It was alright, I didn't mind it," you say. "Triple meat and I'm good with it." >"How about stuffed crust?" >He looks hopeful with that question. "Stuffed with what?" >"Cheese." "...sure." >He stops and opens up the door right in front of you. >You get hit with a frigid blast of air as he grabs the item, making you recoil a bit. "Dammit, you could have warned me." >"Freezer section is cold, by the way." >The inane comment makes you stare at him, being greeted by a smarmy grin. "Fuck you." >"Language, please. There are children present." "No shit. I'm staring at one right now." >"Oh, come on." >You continue to stick by his side through the frozen food aisle, not finding much of interest. >Anon points out some things, like lasagna or some sort of frozen bagged shit he can throw in a skillet and you merely accept the idea and move on. >He really doesn't get it - you don't need fancy shit, and if he does, you could not care less if what you have is raw or cooked. >But he wants to be a pain in the ass, so let it be for now. >Every once in a while, you get someone that does a double-take upon spotting you. >About the time you stare back, they pretend not to notice. > It's a little unsettling. >As if they're spying on you or something. >But as you start to go through the refrigerated items... >Holy shit, that's a lot of different cuts of meat. >And types of meat. >Now this is more like it! >"We are not getting one of everything, Middie," Anon says. "Fine. One of half of everything." >"How about a few different things, as we still got some shit at home in terms of raw meat." >You glance through the red meat, not really spotting anything that sticks out. >After all, a lot of it is ground beef or chuck with varying amounts of fat or different cuts of steak. >You would like to try some different cuts, but you don't have an idea of what is considered "desirable." >Pork sounds pretty good though... >You haven't had much of that aside from bacon or sausage links. "Are pork chops any good?" >"Hell yeah they are." "Then I'll try those. What about ribs? Those sound good." >"Never cooked em, but there's a first time for everything." >Anon grabs both items and chucks them into the cart. >"See, I told you there would be something to tickle your fancy." "If you had told me such a shopping aisle existed, I would have been in full agreement," you chide. >"True. I'll give you that one." >You and Anon start to wander through the dry goods, leaving you to feel somewhat bored. >Again, there isn't much that whets your appetite. >You have already had dinner tonight, so that could be a factor, as well. >"Hi there!"

>>5110 >A feminine voice from behind abruptly makes itself known. >You spin around, surprised and a little irritated with the sudden interruption. >Another pony stands to greet you as you look down. >Well, a pony bot - a Twilight Sparkle model, to be exact. >The top of her head comes up to your chin, if that. >You already don't want to be here. >There's just something distinctly synthetic about their personalities. >The fact this Twilight Sparkle model just stares and smiles warmly at you despite your own reserved and muted expression lends credence to that. "Hi," is all you manage to cough up toward it. >"It's so nice to see another pony!" she gushes excitedly. "I don't think I've ever seen one quite like you before. You're almost as tall as my human's mom!" >Ugh. >Why in the fuck are these things so chipper? >It makes you nauseous. >Of course, the kids probably love it. "Yeah... I'm a new model. Be a while before you see more of my kind," you say, turning to rejoin Anonymous, who is a few feet away. >Hes not looking at you, but he's grinning madly. >That asshole is enjoying this and probably spotted the bot before she even noticed you >His eyes dance your way, and he just smiles a little bit wider as you scowl. 'I fucking hate you,' you mouth to him. >He only puts his hand up to his mouth, pretending to giggle. >Faggot. >"What's your name? My name is Twilight Sparkle." "Midnight. It's a pleasure," you drone, unable or uncaring enough to let a little sarcasm slip out as you feign interest in a box of oatmeal. >"How long have you been around? As I said, I've never seen you before. Have you ever visited the park? I go there a lot with my human and her mom." "I don't get out often." >"Well that's okay!" Twilight giggles. "To be honest, I'm perfectly happy at home curled up with a good book. But it is nice to get outdoors and meet others like us, too." >Holy shit, take a hint. >It isn't even that she's a bot that you find so obnoxious, it's the fact that she is just so goddamn upbeat. >Completely ignorant of anything negative in the world. >Ignorant of hardship. >These bots basically have it made from the time they have it activated. >...no, that isn't true. >You've seen enough to know that isn't true. >They don't all have an easy life. >But it is rather grating to hear the vapid bubbliness this one spouts. >Is this how you're supposed to act with the personality chip that she sports? >You're glad you don't. >The smarts are pretty nice, though. >"Twilight, who are you talking to?" >Another female voice, this one certainly that of a child, joins the fray. >You begrudgingly glance over to see said child wandering over to her pony friend, only marginally taller than the pony. >"Hi Carly!" Twilight cheers, quickly trotting the few steps to be with her human. "I was just talking to my new friend. She's another pony like me!" >She directs the little girl's attention with her hoof toward you. >The girl takes a glance at you.

>>5111 >Any joy she had before quickly disappears. >"That's Nightmare Moon!" she shouts with fear as she takes a few steps back. "She's mean, Twilight! Stay away from her!" >Twilight looks at her, perplexed by the outburst, before turning back to you. >"No, her name is Midnight, and she's been really nice to me. Right?" >This is just wonderful. "I look like Nightmare Moon, I guess," you admit, frustrated by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. "Just - tell her to chill the fuck out, will you? I'm not doing anything other than shopping." >Twilight gasps. >"That's a naughty word! You shouldn't say that!" "Holy s- look, I'm sorry, alright? I'm leaving," you say, quickly retreating from this interaction. >"Mooom!" you hear the girl call out, along with the patter of footsteps retreating in the opposite direction. >Anon is already starting to walk toward you as you turn and meet up with him. >"What the hell happened?" "I'm a scary monster that has a potty mouth, I guess." >"No shit, but what happened?" "Stop fucking around and move it," you growl, giving him a hip check. >"Bye, Midnight," you hear Twilight call out from behind. >You don't bother looking back or acknowledge her in any way. >You're just... >This sucks. >You're aware that you were basically modified into something closely mirroring a show villain, but why should that have any effect on how people perceive you? >"We'll skip the next aisle and quickly get through the rest of this," Anon says, interrupting your thoughts. "The last thing I want to deal with is a fucking Karen. They don't normally come out here in the sticks, but I'm not in the mood to take chances. >A... Karen? >The fuck? "Are you making shit up to confuse me?" >"I'll explain later. Let's just get shopping done." "Alright. I honestly didn't do anything though..." you say, feeling conflicted and confused over how sour that went in such a short amount of time. >You feel Anon's reassuring touch again as he pats your side. >At least someone understands you. -----

>>5112 Good as usual, Auto. Thanks a lot!

>>5103 >demon Golly will make all your shitposts come true >>5112 Thanks for another good update Auto. At least midnight got some treats while out, a true carnivore. Hopefully it makes up for the encounter with the Twilight bot. Interesting that the bots are truely like bots. Not too far beyond simple canned responses.

>>5028 >>"Oh, what's this? Is a tremendous faggot talking to himself again?" Midnight fires back, mirroring your gesture. this deserves to be a reaction image, chipper sardonic midnight is too good

Should I post Jacky updates to here? I haven't before since it's been going on for so long that anyone reading it might not have any real clue or context.

>>5156 You can if you want, there's be no harm in it. No different then people trying to pick it up elsewhere.

>>5130 >bots don't stray far beyond canned responses. I feel like I went a little bit too far in that direction in hindsight, at least for initial impressions. To be fair, that does highlight why there would be a desire for "real" ponies - hence Midnight's existence. >>5154 I certainly wouldn't be opposed to that. Maybe could request it in the draw thread on /mlp/. Also considered the suggestion of a pic like the Queen Umbra pic where she's all pissed off about being called cute. Regardless, I keep forgetting to do that - too much on my plate.

>>5159 >I feel like I went a little bit too far in that direction in hindsight I think not. I took it more as being because the scene is from Midnight's "negative" point of view. The Twibot may be simpler than her, but she still comprehends that Midnight isn't Nightmare Moon.

>>5160 >tfw you don't have a sweet, well-meaning twibot to keep you company

>>5159 Another thought that I had, are bootleg/illegal pones super widespread in your fic? Was just thinking if they have scanners everywhere that it must be enough of a problem to justify their presence everywhere. How many would they catch? Or is it more just the fear that such scanners could be anywhere without actually knowing if they are present or not?

>>5160 Fair points, but I will counter with something else to consider that does settle my mind - is it reasonable to assume that all bots are programmed to recognize "canon" models? After all, that does sort of take away from the liveliness and "organic" feel that would sort of be the end goal. So I guess that in and of itself, if I go with that idea all initial meetings with other bots are unknown, means I haven't gone too far. We will see more bots in the story, and that will sort of shed a bit more light anyways.

Holy shit, my phone struggles to get a signal at work. >>5164 Some of that just has to do with the thought of AI being more widespread, and perhaps some backlash in regards to what could happen should there be "rogue" AI. Sort of like how Anon alludes to Skynet not being too far away - I could see it being enough concern or perhaps some incidents involving unofficial hack-jobs causing problems to where regulations are put in place. With Anon not paying much attention to that shit until Midnight came along, it would be harder for him to pinpoint where she could be discovered. After all, in this universe genetic engineering of organisms, specifically of the companion kind, are forbidden. Though, as alluded to earlier, those regulations seem to have passed under narrow and controversial margins. However, that is my fault it isn't very clear, even with passing mentions which weren't great to begin with. As a writefag, I feel one of my biggest weaknesses is worldbuilding, and this is basically the first fic I've ever done that isn't in Equestria and left to the reader just knowing the setting. Sorry about that.

>>5112 >The rest of the shopping experience ended up relatively uneventful. >You and Anon didn't dawdle by any means, but there were no interruptions or comments from other shoppers aside from a glance or two that lasted longer than you felt necessary. >Anon sold you on some sort of boxed good called "Hamburger Helper." >Half meat, half noodles of some sort along with seasonings. >A fair compromise for both of you. >He ended up getting one of each kind. >Now, both of you stroll out into the night air, which has dropped in temp with the absence of the sun as well as cloud cover. >"Man, you are an expensive date." "Excuse me?" >The hell is that supposed to mean? >"I'm joking, chill out," he replies defensively, taken aback by the harsh tone of your voice. >It really wasn't that funny of a joke. >And you don't like the connotations that would bring if anyone heard him. >That would be embarrassing. >You're aware that there are people who have a romantic investment in ponies. >Is that even legal? >...you don't know why that was the first thing that popped into your head, but regardless, those kinds of people are fucked up. "Sorry, I just think that was a really retarded joke - I'd rather someone not overhear you and actually believe that." >"Alright, my bad." >His apology sounds... off. >A bit disappointed. >Maybe he had been working on that lame comment for a while. >Whatever, that's on him. >"I'm sorry I sort of left you to that Twilight bot. I would never have done that had I thought it would go south like that," he adds. "You seemed to be enjoying it," you jab. >"To be fair, it was one of those things where you had to see your own face." "I suppose she wasn't really *that* bad," you begrudgingly admit. "But I detest how utterly... oblivious they are. Maybe that was an older one, I don't know." >"You mean like how she couldn't tell you weren't interested in conversation?" "Exactly. But I haven't really ever had a long conversation with a bot, so again - maybe they're all like that." >"You've interacted with em before?" >Anon stops the cart before reaching the rear bumper of the Trailduster, circling around and opening up the glass hatch above the tailgate. "Yeah. That was about the only interactions I had when I was in the facility. They had helper bots - sometimes full units, others stripped to bare bones. Sort of depended on why they were there, I guess." >"Oof. So you weren't the only experiment, by the sounds of it," he says quietly, glancing around the parking lot. >You do the same, a bit unnerved by his actions. >No one in sight among the cars left in the lot. >"I just figured this conversation might be a little sensitive for foreign ears," he elaborates. "You may have a point - remind me later."

>>5188 >"Back to - well, what happened in there," he says, taking a moment from loading groceries in the back of the truck to point at the store. "Kids are naive as hell. I don't think you did anything wrong. They'll freak out over the dumbest shit. It's why I don't much care for interacting with kids." "Oh good, at least you probably aren't a kiddie fiddler." >"Now that's just perverted, you sicko." "Yeah, because you haven't said questionable shit before," you sarcastically retort. >"Excuse me!" >Both of you turn to see a middle-aged woman heading your way with a shopping cart. >Along with a little girl and a lavender unicorn in tow. >Great. >The woman doesn't look particularly happy, pausing a moment to point something at a nearby SUV. >The headlights flash briefly while she ushers her child toward the vehicle. >The girl runs off to the SUV, glancing your way briefly with an aversive expression. >Meanwhile, Twilight looks upon you somewhat forlornly, albeit a step back and partially behind the woman's legs. >"Fuck me," Anon mumbles under his breath, barely audible to you as he finishes offloading his purchases. >As the woman resumes her trek toward you and gets closer, Anon plasters on his most polite, innocent face. >"Don't say anything. It's not that I don't trust you, it's that this is probably not going to be a pleasant discussion," he says out of the corner of his mouth. >Is this Karen? >Or a Karen? >You still don't understand that name. >Culture jargon is only something you have stumbled upon from time to time, not researched. >"Hi, can I help you?" Anon asks. >The woman looks at him, then at you. >Disdain practically pours from her gaze before she shifts back to Anon. >"Can you tell me why you thought you could just bring your pony that's based on an evil character into a store where children are almost guaranteed to be present?" she demands. >"I... didn't see a sign anywhere. She's not evil, I can tell you that much," Anon replies, already looking like he's on his back foot in this interaction. >"My daughter came screaming to me in fear from another aisle because of your damn bot," she says, pointing an accusing finger in your face. "She was afraid that she was going to be attacked, eaten up by this thing! I've never seen the show, but my little girl wouldn't just make something like that up." >"Okay, I'm not really in the know on the show either, but-" >"So do you normally buy things without knowing what they are? That doesn't seem smart," she snaps back. >Is this bitch serious? >If anyone is going to insult Anon's intelligence, it's you. >Besides that - didn't she just say that she doesn't have a clue about the show? >You can't help but scowl. >"She was a gift to me, okay?" Anon quickly lies. "Regardless of that, Midnight wasn't harming anyone - she was looking through the shelves just a few feet away from me when your bot sparked a conversation with her - a friendly one, might I add."

>>5189 >Twilight's ears droop in shame as she is dragged into the argument. >"So you're saying it's her fault? Is that right?" the woman retorts, pointing to the sulking pony. >"I just got excited to see her and I wanted to talk," Twilight abruptly interjects, her voice apologetically and pleading as she looks up. >"I didn't ask for your opinion. I'll deal with you later." >Anon looks almost as frustrated as you feel with the tone directed toward the honest pony. >Twilight looks over to you with a somber look on her face. >She was the one that approached you, but... >Well, she obviously didn't know all of this would happen. >'I'm sorry.' >You're taken aback to see Twilight mouth those words to you. >Still, she really doesn't have anything to apologize for... 'It's not your fault,' you silently relay back to her. >It at least manages to perk her up a slight bit, a look of relief creeping upon her face. >"Look, it's all just a misunderstanding. I'm sorry your daughter got spooked by Midnight," Anon speaks up again. >The mother doesn't seem to feel the same way as she eyes Anon with a renewed ire. >"No, I fully understand that you're a grown man walking around with a pony that's meant to be offputting - and you think that's perfectly fine. I'm telling you it isn't," she spouts back, raising her voice just a bit more. >"What do you want from me?" Anon asks, throwing his hands out to either side, palms up. "I said sorry, what else do you want?" >"Don't raise your voice at me! I will call the cops if you're going to be belligerent, they will sort this out!" "Enough!" >You throw a wing between the woman and Anon as you take a step forward. >The crazy lady takes a step back, acting far more startled by your interruption than believable for the situation you have thrust yourself into. >"Are you threatening me? Is your bot seriously threatening me?!" "I am not threatening you, I am saying enough is enough," you clarify in a calm but stern tone. >You can practically feel Anon sweating bullets now that you've stepped into the ring. >But this is absurd, and just getting worse for no damn reason. >"You don't have a say in this, you don't have rights. And how dare you scare my daughter!" >You take another step forward, positioning yourself in front of Anon. "He didn't do anything wrong, nor did I. I can't help what I look like, and I'm sorry that my appearance scares your daughter. But perhaps you need to keep both her and your bot closer to you, considering I never saw you during this incident in the store. >"Are you questioning my parenting?" "I'm questioning your logic." >The lady takes another step back, almost tripping over Twilight, who is still standing behind her. >"Watch what you're doing!" she shouts, turning to look at Twilight. >"Sorry!" Twilight quickly apologizes, cowering just a bit at the outburst. >While this is happening, you eye the woman's cart, still loaded with groceries off to her right.

>>5190 >You focus on it with an idea and just a subtle touch... >It starts to roll as you nudge it with your ability, picking up some speed as the slope of the parking lot aids in its egress from the argument taking place. >The noisy wheels upon the cracked tarmac quickly grab your foe's attention, staring wide-eyed for a moment before rushing after it. >The clatter of her heels is music to your ears as you turn and nudge Anon. "Get in the fucking truck and let's go," you instruct. >He quickly jumps at your direction while you rush over to the passenger side, feeling around for the lock mechanism in the door and popping it open yourself. >Hopping into your seat at about the same time Anon cranks the engine, it's only a brief moment before the rear tires chirp and you're off, leaving the volatile situation in the rearview mirror. >"God damn, what the hell is wrong with this world?" Anon says once you get out onto the road. "Are you asking to explain from my own experience, or..." >"No, I know you've seen worse. You know jumping into that argument really was not going to help your cause, right?" "Because you were really defusing it in a timely fashion. Bravo," you remark, clapping your hooves in a sarcastic manner. >"I don't think there was any reasoning with her. That's a fucking Karen for you - looking for an argument by any means necessary, to prove she's right." "So, a Karen is a bitch?" >"Pretty much. Bitchy, middle-aged, entitled woman." "I can't say I'm thrilled to have understood that definition by experience." >"Wasn't fun for me either. I'm assuming that shopping cart didn't start rolling on its own," he muses, eying you expectantly. >You shrug. "I didn't tell her to park it there at the beginning of a slope towards the storm drain." >The answer garners a smile from him. >"That was good thinking to get us out of there without making things worse. Thank you." "Well, I'm not going to let some miserable bitch use my personal punching bag." >"Jesus. I don't know whether to be flattered or offended, Middie," Anon gasps. "You enjoy the abuse, don't put up an act." >"Only because you do it in a caring manner," he teases. >At least, it seems teasing... >His eyes do linger upon you just a bit longer. >That's something you've noticed more recently. >Whatever. >You exhale deeply, relieving the tension that had welled up inside you since the first situation. >"I am sorry I didn't take kids and how they would react into account," Anon says quietly. "I can't blame you for that, Anon. You said so yourself - you really don't have a clue when it comes to - well, the character I'm based upon. To be honest, I don't know shit about me, either. Er, Nightmare Moon." >"Are you curious about it at all?" he asks rather hesitantly. >You glance over at him. >Anon looks rather uncertain about that question. >Or perhaps how you will react. >You really aren't interested. >After all, that isn't you. >You weren't even *born* to look like said character. >Yet you're tied to her, whether you like it or not. >You may not be an exact match for looks - but that doesn't matter to the passing eye. > It's unfair - but life isn't fair. >Rather than sulk about it, you just have to deal with that notion the best you can. >Perhaps some knowledge of what you're up against in terms of background and reputation could help you at least understand. >You try to keep a straight face, but you fear a mischievous hint of a grin cracks through just a bit. "You wanna watch some pretty pastel ponies when we get home?" -----

>>5130 >Interesting that the bots are truely like bots. Not too far beyond simple canned responses. Going to headcanon that this takes place within the same relative universe of twibot, and you should definitely read that too.

>>4552 >Condense trotted, ever mindful of her surroundings. Her long pink legs carried her at a brisk pace, yet took her nowhere. >She had finally forgotten about the makeshift cloth sling Anonymous had fashioned for her wing prior to beginning his exercise. Condense insisted on joining him for this portion of his morning routine, for which he insisted they immobilize her injured limb. Anon had been firm, yet gentle in securing her wing- tender, even- with his touch. >The extra support from the improvised restraint made trotting less painful, though a stinging sensation persisted if her steps were too heavy. Nevertheless, the reprieve from major discomfort was welcome, and her inward-facing vantage point in the corner of the gym further distracted her from nagging wing pain. Her trotting, the faint whine of the treadmill motor, and Anon's labored grunts were the only sounds that filled the room. >Anonymous went about his workout routine as usual after wrapping Condense's wing and showing her how to operate the treadmill. He had in fact forgotten her presence, albeit temporarily, with the added stimulus of music piping through his headphones as he faced his current challenge; two hundred and twenty-five kilograms. >Condense watched Anonymous squat down with the weight on his upper back, the bar bending slightly under its load. Her pace quickened from trot to canter as the question she'd been ignoring all morning returned to dominate her thoughts: 'Who am I?' >How does one forget their identity, their history, in the blink of an eye? She had retained a very limited knowledge of other pony species and of magic, but why couldn't she recall anything else? That lost knowledge continued to elude her, always just out of sight of her mind's eye. >Her gait now perfectly matched with the treadmill, Condense dared to close her eyes, hoping the temporary loss of sight may coax forth any additional memories. >Despite her best efforts to clear her mind, all she could recall is sorrow; grief from loss. It seemed to saturate the air, more so than the scent of sweat. Perhaps diving into this feeling would be the key to dispelling her amnesia? >Only one way to find out. >Anon's breathing changed. Condense opened her eyes to find him gripping the thick handle of a large, black iron ball with the marking "48 kg" on its side. He lifted it overhead in an fluid, explosive motion, lowered it, and lifted it again, only pausing a fraction of a second between repetitions. Throughout it all, Anon's face remained mostly stoic, his eyes focused on a distant snow-burdened pine swaying outside the window. >Condense accelerated to a full gallop, her gaze fixed on her mysterious host. She continued her sprint, distracted from the exertion by the emotional turmoil that enveloped her. As she stared at Anonymous, a mare's voice suddenly rang out in her mind. >'Are you alright? You've been distant lately.'

>>5197 >No sooner did the foreign voice enter Condense's mind did Anon falter in his exercise, recovering quickly enough to set the ball on the floor in a controlled manner. He shook his head and stood, taking a minute to catch his breath, apparently still lost in his own thoughts. >Anonymous resumed his activity. Condense continued to gallop. Both parties continued to push themselves to their limits, each searching for sanctuary from their troubles, however temporary the respite might be. >Sweat foam had long since lathered on Condense's pink coat, and several minutes of hard galloping accelerated its accumulation. She managed to telekinetically-manipulate the treadmill's controls for a quick, but steady deceleration. With shaky legs she dismounted the treadmill, then gazed to her right, where Anonymous now attacked a hanging red heavy bag. >His kicks sounded like gunshots, each one making Condense flinch. While each strike delivered by his shin or foot would've been extremely painful to a live recipient, Condense was sure they would pale in comparison to the pain that radiated from Anon's icy blue eyes. >She had barely turned to leave when she heard a filly's voice. >'We'll always be together, right, Papa Bear?' >Anonymous screamed, startling Condense with his bitter, anguished cry. His fists, feet, and shins hit the bag in rapid succession until he collapsed to his knees. Condense's first instinct was to rush to her new friend's aid, but she hesitated; thinking she heard the filly speak again. >Unable to locate the source of the phantom voice, Condense turned back to her companion. His head hung low, face covered by bloodied hands. Condense moved with care, ensuring her approaching hoofsteps were audible. Unsure of what to say, she dropped to her haunches beside Anon and stretched out her right wing, draping her purple-tipped primaries over his shoulder. >She felt Anonymous tense under her touch, but it didn't discourage her from attempting to pull him closer to her. >He didn't move. >Condense changed her approach, opting to scoot closer to the man until her forelegs touched his arms. With her wing still draped over his back, Condense rested her chin on the back of Anon's sweat-soaked head. >With time, Anon relaxed and leaned against the sitting mare. Emboldened, Condense dared to raise her right forehoof, bringing it to rest on his back. She traced small circles over his wet t-shirt for a scant few seconds before Anonymous rose from the floor. >"Thank you," he said, his shaky voice barely audible. His fingers brushed behind Condense's left ear but a moment before he limped out of the room, left leg clicking faintly with each step. "You're welcome," Condense whispered to the now-empty room. ... Short update, but a bitch to write. More to come later.

>>5191 A close situation, hopefully that was the end of it in the parking lot. Might be a bit harder to fool the cops , or maybe not? They probably wouldn't be anymore well versed with what Midnight actually is than any other random person. If anything they'd be more familiar with less functional bootleg bots. Thanks for the update. >>5196 Maybe I'll check it out sometime. >>5198 Looks like Condense isn't skipping out on leg day. Do you suppose Condense is a fan of condensed soups?

>>5202 Twibot is not a long story, considering I think it took me only ten or fifteen minutes to get through - but it's very good. I certainly enjoyed it.

>>5191 These posts were a little painful, because your Karen is so accurate.

Replying to post on /mlp/ >what happened to the infoboxes? There's a reason the wiki wasn't publicly posted more than previews yet but it should be OK now, at least it looks that way on my end. [spoiler]The sum up was because i have no idea what im doing and took at least an hour to learn how to fix it. Basically i broke everything by trying to add more info to the box being birthdays, friends and family (some /bat/ wiki stuff. The redirects fucked everything for a while when I just tried to update it, then I tried to delete the redirect but that broke shit even further. But undoing it with new changes didn't work so I had to create a new infobox (MLPCharacters) and manually edit every page's code to use the new box. [/spoiler]

>>5057 >>5215 I'll post the wiki page so others can check it here and verify if I redeemed my moment of retardation and I'll leave it alone if it's working. https://fanponies.fandom.com/wiki/Midnight

>>4705 >What do I like about Zooma? Her optimism in the face of being a mistake is incredibly charming and a great case of bootleg range, Zoom is basically the polar opposite of Midnight despite being moonhorse knockoffs. Anyone remember this old but gold qt?

>>5191 >As the credits roll, you and Anon look at each other, awaiting a response to break the silence. >A silence that has enveloped your home for the better part of two episodes. >After putting away groceries, Anon hooked your laptop up to the TV with a cable, while you searched the internet for episodes of My Little Pony where "Nightmare Moon" appears. >Incidentally, the first two episodes of the "Friendship is Magic" series were the first hits. >It looked like there were a few other appearances sprinkled here and there, but not much. >Evidently, she's not a major character or villain. >"Well." >Anon has the courtesy to speak first but brings absolutely nothing of substance. "Very insightful, thank you." >"I mean... it was something," he says, albeit with much reluctance in his voice. "Indeed. I believe that is what is referred to as a 'cartoon.' Often directed toward younger audiences." >"At least it didn't piss you off," Anon replies with a chuckle. "Were you really afraid of that, or are you joking?" you ask, uncertain of his true stance. >"I wouldn't say I was worried, more... aware that it could be something upsetting to you." "There really wasn't much to be upset about - again, it isn't me," you remind him. >"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to hear that, Middie." "Yeesh. I can't say I'm fond of being thought of as a spiteful thousand-year-old megalomaniac prone to belittling others to cover up her own insecurities." >"Yeah. They really did a good job matching your personality up with hers, huh?" >You don't need to turn to know Anon is sporting a shit-eating grin right beside you. >Instead, you spread out your left wing and smack him in the face. >"Ow," he says, lacking any sort of tone. "You know I was joking about that though, right?" "Yes, but I'm also keenly aware I should have thought about what I said beforehand," you admit, folding up your wing once again. "What did you really think about it?" >"Kinda odd how you're sorta like the alter ego of the pony you were meant to be, and possess part of her personality chip," Anon muses. "Even odder how you have another chip that is the primary opposition to Nightmare Moon." "Wow." >"Yeah, sort of deep when you really get into it," he says with a nod. >You shake your head. "No, I'm just surprised you can use words that big," you wisecrack. >"Asshole." "Don't forget it." >"Really though... it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," he admits. "I still don't get the appeal." "You should go make a post about that on an imageboard." >"What?" "Hm?" >He shakes his head. >"Nevermind. But I guess now we know what you're up against." "It really doesn't make it any better - but I didn't think it would. Still, it's hardly something I would consider scary." >"Sorry. Kids are stupid," Anon says with a shrug. >Despite going into this with curiosity, you now are left with frustration. >There really *isn't* anything you can do if children find this kind of shit scary, and relate you with her.

>>5223 >It may very well be a matter of avoiding the matter altogether. >Which isn't completely bothersome... >After all, you finally have a place you can genuinely call home. >That is a calming and warm feeling to know, whatever happens, you have somewhere you can retreat that is safe and comfortable. >Why would you want to leave that? "I guess I just have to avoid those situations in the future. Need I remind you, you're more keen on me being in the public than I am. I'm content with sticking with you and conversing with you - far more than anyone else." >Anon chuckles a little bit at that, smiling just a bit wider. >"Come a long way from seeing me as a means to an end, huh?" "Perhaps there's a bit more to you than that," you reply, averting your eyes. >You really don't want to go beyond that. >Saying you care or see him as a friend out loud just seems like an uncomfortable gesture. >He pretty much knows it anyway. >But you do wonder if he sees more than that. >You recall earlier tonight, the stupid 'date' joke that left them sounding almost a little disappointed. >Or the way he steals glances at you. >Or the physical contact. >It's... >Weird. >You've only started noticing those little things very recently. >At first, you chalked it up to your own mind trying to make something out of nothing. >But... >You really need to know. "I didn't mean anything by that other than I respect you," you add. >He nods, though his smile does falter a bit. >Alright, you're not going to ignore that. "Anon, what's gotten into you lately?" >"What do you mean?" "I mean like now. Or the way I notice you looking at me from time to time. Or the push to get me to open up. Why?" >Anon looks like someone caught red-handed with stolen items. >"Getting you to open up is for your benefit in the sense of not bottling things up that bother you. Would you agree with that?" he asks cautiously. "I can, but I feel like there's more to it than just helping me, Anon," you press. >"There is," he concedes with a sigh. "I guess - look, I don't know how or why, and I get that it's fucking weird, but... I guess I have sort of developed feelings for you." >Feelings for you. >There it is. >What in the fuck. >What in the goddamn is wrong with him? >Your initial reaction is to call him a degenerate, a pervert, a sick bastard. >Maybe make a dry heave gesture. >With all the stupid comments, the attitude, the insults... >And he has feelings for you. >Jesus. >"Midnight, I don't want things to be weird between us. I do respect you as my friend, first and foremost," Anon adds. "I didn't want to say anything because I wanted to... I wanted to try to figure out if there was anything as far as feelings on your end, but without destroying what we had." >Well, he didn't do the best as being discreet. >But you at least respect he isn't literally crawling over to you, telling you how much he adores you, how he can't stop thinking about you...

>>5224 >You do like how things are - or at least were - up until this point. "You aren't going to try throwing me out in a blind rage, are you?" you ask in a joking manner. >Or at least you try to make it sound like a joke. >"Fuck no. This is your home, Midnight," Anon says emphatically. "It's out in the open now, I'm a fucking weirdo-" "That was obvious from the beginning." >"Yet you were willing to put up with me. But I assume based on your question, I'm- those feelings... of the romantic kind... They aren't mutual, are they?" >You really don't understand what he could even see in you to develop "feelings" toward you. >There's nothing there. >You have nothing to bring to the table. >You've only recently let it go that you're a freak of nature that really has no business in being alive. >You're making the best of it - it wasn't your choice to come out this way, after all. >How he looks beyond that... >Wow... >...No. >It doesn't matter. >You don't think you feel anything toward him aside from the initial reaction of wanting to call him a fruitcake. >Of course, you really don't know what he is talking about in the sense of "attraction." >That's a foreign idea. >But, he at least deserves some closure and respect. >As your friend. "No, Anon. I don't feel that way toward you." >Anon winces just a bit at that, but at least manages to offer you an awkward, accepting smile. >"I guess now I know for sure. You don't want to kick my ass or insult me now, do you?" "I don't want you to turn into a quivering, sobbing mess. I'll leave you alone." >"Middie, I'm fine," Anon assures you, reaching over and- >Stopping. >He pulls his hand back. >"Seriously, I'm fine," he reiterates calmly. "I don't have a problem with friendly pats," you acquiesce, trying to at least throw him a bone and return things to normal. "No funny business or your hand becomes my next dinner." >He laughs, reaching over and patting your side. >A little awkwardly, but that's to be expected. >... this is quite the change for you, isn't it? >As much as you like to rib him and put up a fuss over his antics and decisions, you're willing to cut him slack here. >He is right, you do see him as more than a means to an end... >No. > It's a friend thing. >Holy shit, you really are starting to go soft. >Maybe some insults would do you some good. "You know I am going to give you shit for this at some point, right?" >"I would expect it. Otherwise, I would think you were turning funny," Anon retorts. "Yeah, I don't think you have a leg to stand on here." >"Aww, is Middie turning into a softie?" Anon gushes. "Aww, does Anon get a hard peepee watching children's cartoons?" >"Now you're just stretching this out to fit what you want it to," he protests. "I don't recall saying I thought the show was decent." >"You enjoyed it, don't lie." "It wasn't horrible," you say sternly. >"But you were quiet and focused on it the whole time, without making any sort of stupid comments." "And I have to do that to prove I don't like something?" >"You normally do." "...shut up, ponyfucker." >"Karen." >Oh no he didn't. >He smirks as you just glare at him. >"New nickname, perhaps?" >Without a world, you focus on one of your metal tools, using it to grab hold of a pillow behind you and chuck it at him. >It beans him square in the face, moving quickly enough to catch him completely by surprise. >"I guess that's a no." -----

>>5225 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_WYwfrMFko I've been waiting for the opportunity to post this ^:) Hopefully things don't get too weird between them. They've got a good friendship going on, Middie's come a long way from where she started. Thank you Auto.

>>5202 >Looks like Condense isn't skipping out on leg day. Every day is leg day when you're a quadriped.

>You are Rosie Rock. >You open your eyes and rise to get ready for your work on the rock farm. >Wait no, not rock farm, quarry. >You don’t farm rocks, you mine them. >Why would you even get that mixed up? >You shake the thought from your head, there was work to do. >Grabbing what you need, you make your way to the quarry. >It was difficult work to do on your own, as your father was getting on in years and there wasn’t much spare coin to hire anyone else to help. >Your parents had even tried to get you some siblings to help with the family endeavors but always ended up unfruitful. >The most you could often get was that young stallion from that family on the other side of town since he often had more time and energy than he knew what to do with. >Or was he a mare? >Why can’t you remember his face? >Why can’t you remember his name? >You’ve known each other forever, why can’t you remember? >You shut your eyes and think, trying to conjure up the image of your friend in your mind. >All you see are images of a flaxen-haired mare with an orange coat and green eyes, along with the name “Applejack”. >Who is she and why is she taking over the image of your friend? >Opening your eyes again, you catch your reflection in a puddle. >The mirror image shifts, from a mare with bright blue eyes and a curly, pink mane, to one with green eyes and a straight, purple, mane with flat edges, then one with light green eyes and a silver wither-length mane that parts to one side, and lastly one with purple eyes and a long, two-toned gray mane. >They aren’t you. >They aren’t you but why do you see them? >A heat builds in your chest, and you strike the image. >It reforms as if to mock you. In response you hit it harder. Each time it reforms you hit it harder and harder, eventually letting out curse after curse as you do so. >“Rosie.” a voice called out. >“Rosie, wake up!” >Your eyes snap open. >You’re not back home. >You’re still with Anon, who’s currently looking at you with concern. >“You started screaming and kicking in your sleep; even caught me in the chest a few times, pretty sure it’s gonna bruise.” He chuckles, probably so you don’t feel as bad. “S-sorry, just had a bad dream, is all.” >He sits up with his back against the headboard then scoops you into his arms before placing your haunches in his lap, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around your stomach. >Placing his chin on top of your head he says, “Didn’t seem like a “teeth fall out” or “naked at school” kind of nightmare to me, go ahead and lay it on me, little lady.” Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves, you say, “I dreamt I was back home but nothing seemed right. My best friend wasn’t how they were, and when I saw my own reflection my reflection wasn’t looking back.” >“Seems pretty tame to me.” he says, “Was there anything else?” “No, just remember that I felt like a fire was lit in me and that’s when I started beating the tar out of the reflection.” >“Hmm…” is all he says, the low rumble of his voice reverberating through you. >For a while the two of you just sit there. >His embrace and steady breathing puts you at ease. >You squirm slightly at the word. >“Embrace”...no one’s ever really done that to you before, not even… >The image of that mare appears in your head again and you feel the fire rise once more. >Anon seems to notice and runs a hand along the side of your barrel. >You hadn’t noticed before, but his arms and hands were littered with scars. >Ranging from the small, curved, scars on his fingers and the back of his hand to thin, straight, lines across his forearms. >Hoping to take your mind off of the mysterious mare, you open your mouth. “Anon.” >“Hm?” “How did you get all those scars?” >Momentarily you stop feeling his breath on top of your head before it returns with a deep and heavy exhale. >Looking upwards, you see that his eyes are closed, seemingly lost in thought, before he breaks the silence with, “I was a dumb kid, made a lot of mistakes.”