You absolute madlad. I love it. Nothing like some fresh Starsky to kick things off.

Nice OP pic. >>6703 Well this took a bit of a different turn. Wasn't expecting Starsky to come on to Anon so strongly. Anyway, if she does end up moving in with Anon it'll probably be quite the step up from what she was dealing with before. Hopefully all this is out of genuine attraction for Anon and not just to get him to take her in. I have no doubt the friendship is genuine, just hope this last update wasn't due to deteriorating conditions at home. Curious to see what happens with those two in the future. >>6718 >Anon suggests a campfire in the backyard. Sounds nice. Could even have a backyard barbeque with Teddy and Starla. >Anon already beats me to the question. I'm sure it'll be some nice quality time together out there. Maybe they could do a bit of stargazing as well. Happy to see more of your green as ever. Thanks for the update both of you. Always makes me happy when I see there's a new one.

>>6703 >Delicious burgers >You've decided on burgers for dinner tonight >Really great, 85% lean third-pounder sirloin burgers >Your dad would probably chastise you for using a skillet and not the grill outside >But the weather is hardly right for grilling >Your original plan was to cook and chomp on four of them but two in and you honestly feel pretty full >You end up cooking the other two patties anyway >Wheat buns and muenster cheese and even a good crackling of pepper corns >Proof that you are indeed a simple man >By the time you're done with the fourth, and last, burger... you get the feeling that you'll probably end up giving them away >You know by who >Almost as if on time, you hear a hoof tapping against your door >Of course you don't see anyone at the door nearby so it can't be too many people >You lean to one side and balance on one foot to open the door >"Daaaaaaaang Mr. A, you're like... psychic now. Did you see me coming?" "Not really. But I prepared just in case." >She crooks her head all the way up and sniffs >"Ooooh maaaaan... smells like burgers to me." "Yup. And, I suppose you'd like one or two." >Starsky giggles >"Man, you are definitely a psychic now! Bottoms up!" >She closes her eyes and opens her mouth wide >Of course, she isn't getting a free meal tonight "Ah... nah, you're gonna have to work for dinner this time. And that's because I actually trust you with this." >Starsky's head comes down and she opens her eyes >She doesn't close her mouth >Rather, she smiles and lets out a teasing 'aaaaaahhhhh' >"Gotta big job for me, Mr. A?" >You can't help but get the idea that she's thinking of certain ideas >Yesterday morning still hasn't faded from you "Well..." >Time to do as gramps did >Face tough situations with a complete and utter stoic front >And this is a very tough thing >To you, at least "First thing's first. You're pretty nice to me. And... yeah, I'll admit. Maybe I'm willing to admit that you're hot to me." >She grins >"Thanks, dude. You're... like maybe the third human ever to actually say that. And you're sober so that totally makes it... like, the first!" >Your eyebrows raise >That seems to explain a few things "Well, I'm glad I am. Though maybe I need a two drink minimum before you come over." >"Ooooh~ A bit of the bub-leeeeeeeee! That sounds fun to me." >Stay on topic, Anon >You gotta work with how well she can just disarm you "Listen, Star. We both seem to agree that your Lizzy friend is..." >"A bad dude? Or an abuser of the devil's dandruff?" >Devil's dandruff? "The de... well, maybe. Tell me, just how bad is she? Is it accurate to say that if I called the cops, she'd probably have a warrant out or they'd find something to take her in?" >Her more playful mood mellows down >She's still smiling >But she more just seems calm >"Honestly, Mr. A?" "Yeah, be honest."

>>6729 >"If you called the cops right now, she'd probably go to prison for a long time. I want to say that she'll get a ton of help in there... but I think she's a ton more likely to end up getting stabbed with one of those little weird tooth brush things they melt down to spikes or something." >You expected her to hesitate at least a little "Alright. Well, I'll also be honest." >"Always, Mr. A." "I haven't lived in this town for a while... but apparently I will be living here for a while, because I really don't want to lose my dad's place. And.. it still is his place. It isn't right for me to sell it to begin with. I don't want some crackhead living even remotely close to my neighborhood." >Starsky nods >"Yeah, man... I understand. Trust me, man. I do. She really never used to be like that, you know?" "I guess so, yeah..." >Alright >Remember gramps, Anon >Stoic >Staring at the top bun of one of the burgers, you let your tongue glide over one of your top canines before you speak "...so how much of an addict are you? Again, being honest. What have you all gotten up to? What sort of things have you helped her do?" >Even the calm smile she had starts to fade >"None, Mr. A. I'm a pony, man... if I take some sort of... drug or something and get sick? Who's gonna take care of me? We don't got docs like you guys do. And a veterinarian? You may as well consider me deader than those hamburgers, dude." >Her eyes glance over to the open door >"...'sides. I know her well enough that she ain't a responsible sort of upstanding citizen. I lose my nut and start borking out, I ain't so sure she won't just, uh... you know. Make use of that." >Her eyes turn to yours >She almost looks embarrassed >"You know those sorts of people. It ain't like the sitcoms where they have redemption episodes." >Fair enough >Understandably, you feel... angry >Almost >Just because of how trash this chick is >You grab one of the burgers and kneel down >Leaning down just feels like it would be insulting "Alright, here's the first. I got a second one of you're willing to answer more." >Like magic that silly smile returns >"Aw man, Mr. A! You're seriously making me sing for my supper... what're you gonna make me do for dessert?" "I'm not answering that right now." >"Heh, 'right now' he says... way to make a girl anxious." >After a test sniff of which direction would be best to start from, she takes modestly sized bites out >She doesn't seem to be starving, but she doesn't take long between bites "You know, I never knew if you guys ate meat or if it was all flowers and fruits and greens." >She shakes her head and licks her lip a multitude of times >"Nah, bro. Total misconception. At least for me, I eat whatever isn't nailed down. It's, like, a treat to have a burger this awesome mostly because of the cooking stuff. The tools, bacteria, blood and raw... meat... juices?" >She shakes her head even harder >"Noooo way, man. Super hard pass."

>>6730 >You let her finish eating >"I like the peppercorns." >She comments between her last bites >Before you can pull your hand away, she licks at your hand >Her tongue's strong >After the second lick you pull your hand away >You aren't gonna let her change topics "Alright. So you hungry enough to have a second?" >Her answer is a hum and a nod "Right on, then you can answer my second question." >She nods in recognition "So. Did you start coming over here to case my place?" >That question takes her off guard completely >She starts to cough, failing to speak for a few words >"Wha-who-no! No way! I've never helped her with those sorts of things!" >Those sorts of things "Are you saying she's stolen before?" >She frowns >"We both know the answer to that, Mr. A. I really don't want to go into what she's done." "Alright... that's technically only part one of the second question." >"Really?" "Really. The second part is... what is this?" >You wipe your hand a few times >"Uh... I don't have hands so I eat with my mouth...?" "Eh?" >You look down at your hand >Then at her >She's just as confused as you are "Gah, no. Not that." >You sigh "What's with the friendly attitude? Why have you been laying on stuff so hard? Am I some sort hail mary last ditch effort or is this something you're pulling with everyone in the neighborhood?" >You really want it to be focused on whether or not she's playing you >And why she's playing you >If she is >But >Part of you hopes that she hasn't been pulling these stunts all around >So it might make you feel a little more special >It's a completely petty thing to feel, since you hardly know this mare >But you can't not feel it >At least a little >Starsky smiles and shrugs >It's that calm smile again >She's not having fun with this but she's at least in her apparent comfort zone >"I live every day like it's my last, Mr. A. Which means, at least for me? I really don't like going where it isn't safe. I really don't wanna be around people that look at me kinda strange. I really don't wanna be around Lizzy once I know that she's still breathing and she's fine without me." >She nods and gives her best smile >"I mean it, man. About that animal magnetism thing? I'm not an animal to you. I'm never ever eeeeeeeeever gonna be like you. Or Lizzy. And I'm cool with it. I get to do all sorts of cool things because of it. I got, like, pony-focused super powers and stuff. For real." >You're dubious but at the same time you are afraid of what information she could bring up if she has some sort of super keen sense of smell or eyesight >You've heard that some ponies can even use magic or fly >You don't know enough about them to know for sure but some people have sworn by it >"I guess, as far as I care? Like... my bottom line?"

>>6731 >She traces one of her front hooves on the floor >"I've been Lizzy's best friend for like... ever. But I think she's gonna leave us for the great party beyond. And..." >Her voice starts to crack >"I'm kinda worried she's gonna take me with her. You know? She's my best friend but I ain't hers anymore." >...well damn it >Stoicism, Anon >Just like gramps >Remain stoic >No >Don't do- >You fool >Don't you fu- >God damn your hand >You reached out to stroke her mane >"She ain't my Lizzy, man... it's her body but she ain't right in the head anymore... that ain't her." >Everything just seems to freeze there >You really aren't sure what to say >You don't even know what to think >You pet her a few more times >"I don't want her to keep doing bad stuff like that... but I don't want to die with her, man. She a..." >Her word is cut off with a whine >"She..." >She's really struggling to speak >"...She ain't worth it, man. She ain't worth dying for, Mr. A." >Interestingly, she isn't crying >That doesn't mean she's faking it "...you've been thinking of this for a while, huh." >She doesn't answer >What feels like entire minutes go by "Hey Star... it's getting kinda late out. It's gotta be after 8, right?" >After a moment she nods "You got that second burger to chomp on. Yeah?" >Another nod "After that... well, let's go hang out in the basement for a while. And... well, the weekend is coming up. Let's put our heads together and see if we can figure something out. Alright?" >"Thanks Anonymous." >You weren't expecting this sort of situation >You still aren't 100% convinced this isn't some sort of... scam >But you can't do nothing >Even if there's a 1% chance that you might believe that this is some sort of set up >God damn it >You don't have it in you to go 'sorry, not my problem' >You are not comfortable with any of this >You weren't exactly, before >But now you really aren't >What would dad say? >Probably something like 'God damn it boy, don't give your burgers to animals do you know how rarely those go on sale?'

>>6732 Definitely a bad situation Starsky is coming from. Probably not a scheme, but it's good that Anon is verifying these questions. Those two did just meet a short while ago and it takes a while to build some proper trust. Assuming all works out, it'll be good for them. Seems like they could both use a good friend. Anon doesn't seem to meet with anyone at all and Starsky doesn't seem to really have any good, reliable friends that don't put her at risk. Anon inviting Star down to his realm in the basement is probably a good sign of a little bit of trust. Thanks for the update.

>>6733 I'm glad you see that. It isn't the full reason why I started with Starsky but I see a lot of Jacky in this. While it's more a personal thing to remember, what I'm keeping in mind is that she and Starsky really aren't that different. But they are different in one or two very key ways. What's also different is the Anon. Jacky's Anon not just went out of his way to get her, and had no one else in his life and really nothing to look forward to. The Anon we see with Starsky seems... grieving, in his own way. But he has a much better head on his shoulders. Obviously more aware when it comes to dangers and risks. For this Anon? There's no doubt, the physical attraction is there. And he doesn't seem to mind her company at all otherwise. And he's also aware of the possible risk he's in. He just doesn't have it in him to kick her out and call it a done deal. He should. You can easily argue that he shouldn't even feel bad for it. But he just can't. And then there's Starsky, herself. I don't doubt for a second that she hasn't been honest. But there is that worry of how much of her is genuine. After this? Even I'm convinced she means it. When you've had a friend around for that long who has effectively turned into someone else... what is your loyalty to them worth? Are you fine with taking a bullet for a friend, when it's the friend who might be the one shooting you?

With the sadness, thread could use some cheering up so have some rosie chomping on a cookie

>>6741 Very cute. Thanks for the happy pony Anon.

So I was thinking, do you think bootleg ponies place any value in their cutie marks? In non-bootleg ponies it is of course their special talent, and is celebrated when they finally get it. Whereas in bootlegs they are created, grown or otherwise predestined to have a certain mark. Is it essentially just a tattoo at that point? Or do you think that, at least for the bootlegs that are not clones, they are more respective of personality than talent?

>>6743 I think for a majority of them, it's just a mark the same as any other coat markings. Other than a tie in to who they were supposed to be or based upon, there's not much connection to the individual and oftentimes, we don't even see it brought up or mentioned. And that's if they have a cutie mark in the first place - some of em don't. Midnight's mark is just a tie-in - she really has no preference for the night - though she is adept at seeing in the dark. And Starla - who granted, is from a different laboratory- doesn't possess a mark. I think I mentioned this on 4chinz, but the initial design I had pictured for Midnight and her backstory - she was not going to have a cutie mark. Well, at least not born with one. I considered it another part of her experimentation of "completing the image," where it was basically cut off of a Luna bot and grafted onto her flank. I decided that was just too gruesome. Just thinking about that now and envisioning it makes my stomach turn a bit.

>>6732 glad to see this Anon isn't just blindly trusting starsky, looking forwards to seeding how this develops

>>6754 I think he's very dubious of her. But I also think that he doesn't dislike her. It's a lot of caution. >>6732 >You sorta expected it >Star ended up staying the night again >What was different was that she ended up sleeping on the love seat >You didn't say anything about where she had to go but you were glad she had a straight head >Maybe you've been giving her too little credit on some things >When you woke up, she was still there >Awake >Comfy >And happy to see you >If she were a normal girl, your dad would probably encourage this train of action >He always did want to see grandkids before he kicked off >Of course, he also wanted to see you drive a Lambo too, and to win the lottery so he could say 'fuck you all' to every resident in town and move to Alaska >What would he say about this? >You aren't one for guidance >But >You really do wish that he could give you at least one last nugget of wisdom that could only come from the pain of age >Your thoughts were muddled all throughout work >What work you've been able to get while here >There's still so much to do >So much to get used to >You park in driveway at the back of the house this time >You're not sure if you should be surprised but you see Starsky sitting at your door >She's able to bypass your privacy fence so why worry about it >"Heeeeeeeeeeey Mr. A. 'Sup? How was work?" "Eh... another day." >You open the door and hold it open out of reflex >With a glance at you, and the kitchen, she bobs her head forward and back with a grin >"Heh, thanks man. You're a real gentleman, you know?" >You aren't really all that hungry >You start down the stairs to the basement >You hear her behind you >You plop down onto the couch >It's used to you just falling onto it >It's probably why the cushions are so busted and it's just a mass of fabric and softness at this point >She calmly hops onto the other cushion >"So Mr. A..." "What's up, Star?" >"Have you thought more on stuff?" "About you chilling here? Or buying her from you or whatever." >It's a lot of responsibility >You've been thinking of the logistics of having a pony >Of living with one >Living with a girl, particularly >You aren't some sperg but you certainly can't do certain things with her around >... >Who are you kidding, she'd probably cheer you on and watch with full attention >"Mr. A?" >Your attention snaps to "Huh?" >"Zonked out already? Man, that must've been a killer shift. I said 'yeah', about me staying here." "Oh. Ah. Eh..." >Screw it >She's been a little bit too open and honest >Why should you restrain yourself now? "What's that gonna look like? Legit, I know I gotta go to work. And I'm guessing ponies don't usually have jobs and just goof around all day. I know cooking is... well, I'll be cooking for two so I guess it'll be a change but it won't be the biggest in the world." >You look over her body >She's sitting with a lean against the couch's arm >She gives you a chill smile "...and yeah, if you keep spending a lot of nights tempting me, I'm gonna have things that will need to be done." >"That a threat or a promise, bro?"

>>6757 "Both, I reckon." >"Oooh... promising." >That chill smile widens "See? That's also something that kinda bugs me to be honest. Not because it doesn't sound fun but... I really don't know you. And you don't know me." >"That's true... and really, outside of seeing stuff on the internet? Total mine field. I have like, the mental images down. But it's how I know I could swim in the ocean but until you throw me in, it's all wishful thinking." "Yeah. And... I don't know, Star. If I do this, it isn't because I want a slice of mare." >She shrugs but doesn't seem bothered >"Too true, man in blue... but what would you say if that's what I'd want to do?" "Well to me it would feel dirty. I'm not doing this for a reward. Least of all that." >She doesn't seem to get you >The look on her face says so >"But... it'd be cool though, right?" >She sounds confused >After a few moments, she taps her hoof on the couch cushion >"Ah. Maybe I gotta explain my reasoning more, huh. Well... waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back when Lizzy and I were in highschool, right? Well, I wasn't in highschool. She was. I just visited. Maybe snuck some cookies in the cafeteria and stuff..." >More story time apparently >"She had this guy she toooooootally liked. And when she told me, I kinda told her to just do what she thought was right, right?" >She beams like she's proud of herself >"And I thought that was legit, for real! Because you should always do what you think is right, right? I read that in a book. I think it was a big one. But anyway." >She mellows out again to a more neutral form of comfortable >"So, I tell her that... and, like, two days later. He comes over and I stumble across them going at it like those zombies from that one movie, right? Screaming and clawing and..." >Zombies? >Wat "...wat." >Her eyes go wide and she points at you with her front leg >"Like, exactly, man! I didn't know what the heck I was seein', neither of them seemed to know what they were doin', and before I know it, they're both screaming at me and I'm screaming at them and later we all had a good laugh over some Wendy's." >She relaxes again and nods >"Those were the days, man... I always used to ask for extra salt on my fries. Ponies can eat a truck load of fries, man, for real." "You're losing me here." >"Oh! Yeah, right. So. To her, that was doing what she thought was right. And the guy she liked? Well, he wasn't a bad guy. He really wasn't, honest. But... I think she liked another guy too. And... then like, another." >She purses her lips >"...come to think of it, she kinda had like... a lot of boyfriends in highschool... but not that one bro I told you about. He only rose the flag for that one pony." "I'm... not following. Are you saying that she was a slut in highschool and that it supposedly worked for her so it'll work for you?" >She raises her hoof as if to answer but she looks like she's not sure >"I..." >She squints >As if this is some sort of quiz >"I... think so? I mean, I'm not a slut. Obvs."

>>6758 "I'll have to take your word on it, I guess." >For the first time, she seems offended >"Hey, Mr. A. I'll have you know you really are the first guy I slept with. On. Around." >She squints again >"I mean, I think so. I'm preeeetty sure I slept in the same room Lizzy shared with her boyfriend. But. You know. I wasn't ON or WITH him. Right?" >It seems like the details of this topic escape even her >"But I haven't done that sort of thing, ever. I'm old school, man. One and done, tried and true, too cool for school." "Kinda like having a friend, huh?" >"Yeah!" >Once it catches up to her of what you meant, she deflates a portion >"Yeah... kinda like having a friend." >Her eyes seem to go over the basement >"But, you know. More than a friend. Like, if you immediately hit something off with someone and it's all gravy, why fight it? We go to the grey hair club, we bicker about bacon bits on baked biscuits and we just spend hours on rocking chairs because old people really like rocking chairs for some reason." >That's a... >A less detailed way to look at it >'Pure', if you're feeling charitable >"That's kinda how my bro explained it to me, when he had his first girlfriend. You know the one." >Not really "The... one who popped mad pony boners?" >Your deadpan delivery makes her giggle up a storm >"Yeah dude, that's the one! I really don't remember what we were talking about anymore. But it was something really tight. Like, how those sorts of feelings and emotions you feel for someone. You can only ever, like, honestly feel those with one person. And no one else. Because it just isn't real with them, you know? And it makes a whole ton of sense to me. Like, at that time it kinda just clicked together like a round peg in a square hole." "...but those don't fit." >You have no clue what her angle is >She grins like she's some sort of sneak >"They sure do, Mr. A. I totally did it once. That's called 'thinking outside the square'." "Thinking outside the box, you mean." >"No bro, there wasn't a box. It was flat so it was a square." >The victory on her face tells you that her logic prevails >And it does >To her >"But yeah, man... I wouldn't do that. I think that's kinda what got me... I don't know. Bent out of shape over it. I mean, yeah, her thing is her thing, right? But I see her go from guy to guy and it just... I don't know man, it made me mad. I wasn't always such a zen master, right? I saw those guys be sad and... like, I'm guessing ponies are natural predators to sadness. We zone in and gobble it up, leaving everything happy." "...yeah?" >"Yeah..." >You can't decide if she's smart or accidentally making points but you're concerned that you're beginning to understand her points >"But after she kinda... you know. Told me to shove it, I did. She was happy. At least I thought so. She seemed to be. But that was when I realized we weren't on the same wavelength anymore. It was a total soul de-sync." "And you think our souls are in sync or something?"

>>6759 >"I don't know, Mr. A... but it sounds kinda cool, doesn't it?" >Another grin >"I mean come on, tell me is ain't the most romantic thing in the world. Imagine what that must feel like... if Lizzy understood that, maybe I'd be like... the cool pony aunt by now, right? I could totally see it." "Well you certainly have more of a... romantic mindset." >"Totally. Maybe it's kinda because I'm... like, a pony. I know you guys sure seem to think differently these days. It's pretty crazy. And I know you aren't like that." >You're amused by this "Oh yeah? And how do you know I don't have chicks over for idle fun and popcorn?" >She leers and taps her nose with her hoof >"Magic pony senses, Mr. Aaaaaaaaa. I haven't smelled a single sign of a woman here since I checked out your yard. And your clothes smell like dust and a bit of grease and..." >She leans over a few inches toward you and inhales gently >You can't help but feel violated >"...and what smells like a candy bar... Mr. A's gotta sweet tooth!" >Her amusement heightens the violation >You feel like you're being attacked on some personal level >"Heheh... you can't fool me, Mr. A. The nose knows!" "Oh you... cut it out." >"Heh~" >She inhales and exhales >"Animal magnetism angle going for you, you really don't seem or smell like the sort who does normal human things that I see... Iunno, man. I like your style. And if it's really that great, why fight it? If it takes effort, and that's all? Dude, I'm pretty comfy with it. Life's one big class room, I'll never run out of things I need to learn. That includes learning about you and stuff." >You really aren't capable of faulting her logic >It sounds good >Really good >But part of you just doesn't accept it >It's far more complicated than that >Isn't it? >You have no real interest in casual dating >You really have no interest in casual dating >Especially now when it's just you >You've never thought of that sort of thing in such depth >Without saying anything, you click on the TV >Another episode of That 70s Show with everyone hanging out in the main character's basement >"Hey... that couch kinda looks like yours." "Does it?" >"Yeah. It has a hot redhead on it." "Hey, your hair isn't all red." >"No comment on the 'hot' part though...?" >More giggling >You need to sharpen your mind if you're gonna have a long conversation with her >She's too ready to go where you can't react in proper time >The only thing that she said that you find wrong with her comment is that that stripe in her mane doesn't even look red but more kinda reddish-pink... >... >You don't find her hot either >Obviously >Probably

>>6761 https://nhnb.org/.static/pages/globalRules.html duuuude...

>>6763 >>6764 Don't worry, I deleted it. If I get banned then it's not like I won't be able to keep at the greens. I just like getting art, even if it isn't the usual.

>>6760 At least it looks like Anon's got his heart in the right place here. Hopefully things work out with her moving out of Lizzy's and in with Anon. Hopefully Starsky doesn't try to take things too quickly either. >Animal Magnetism I can't help but think of The Scorpions album. Good stuff. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0F5Xy1Vw6eA&list=OLAK5uy_kkNGwSy_0byy_7k05NPe0lA2nGHorxi1Y&index=1 Thanks for the update.

>>6766 No harm done, it's just something to be mindful of around here. It's natural to get excited when someone enjoyed your story enough to be inspired to draw. That's always cool and should serve as further inspiration.

"Well, it looks like a decent turnout." >That was your best attempt at being optimistic as you turn into a parking spot in the lot behind the local coffee joint. >Now, to be fair, you only got a cursory glance of the attendees as you drove past, deciding to park elsewhere rather than deal with what would be a frustrating exit when it came time to leave. >But what you saw was not what you had really hoped. >It was more newer cars than anything - and of those, there were more than a few rice rockets. >You don't hate em, but after the second or third Civic with a poorly fitted body kit... yeah, it gets old. >Dorito-powered Mazdas are pretty damn cool though. >Perhaps a tad bit fragile, and oil-thirsty... >Okay, maybe a better toy than anything. >But that sound. >Nonetheless, you had decided this Sunday morning, you and Middie would head out and take a gander at what the local cars and coffee gathering had to show off. >As you look over at your passenger, her face betrays a fair amount of disappointment as she scans your destination. "Too far for you to walk, huh?" >"Wow, I forgot how funny you were," she drones before shaking her head. "I guess I was expecting something - this is a little underwhelming." "Yeah, I wasn't really sure what to expect, but it is what it is. Shall we?" >Midnight hops out of her side, joining you as you circle around the front of the Trailduster. >It's a decent enough day - a little cloudy and a little on the cool side, but nothing extreme. >The slight breeze is enough to carry the murmurs of idle conversation to the pair of you as you make your way across the worn, cracked pavement of the old parking lot. >There's at least a few older cars here. >You don't recognize them from past customers of shows, though. >Then again, it has been years since the last time you had visited a car show. >Many times, you never see the car in question that is needing parts. >But, the first car at the back of the coffee shop lot isn't something you would be providing parts for anyway. >"What the hell is that thing?" Midnight mutters quietly to you. "I think it *was* a Hyundai Tiburon," you reply, noting - as expected from this kind of car - the piss-poor fitting of the body kit. >"It looks... why the hell are the wheels so tucked back in the wheel wells?" "Needs wheel spacers. Or better yet, not a body kit on the lower half." >At least the whole car is painted in a decent coat of silver metallic. >But if they hadn't bothered with purchasing and installing wheel spacers, it's likely this thing is all show and no go. >You move on to something more palatable. >Fortunately, there's an old stalwart in banana yellow nearby. >Sure, it's malaise-era, meaning it likely has little than two hundred horses under the hood if it's stock... >But what possesses the presence of a '70s Corvette C3? >"Smogger 'Vette?" >You look over at Midnight, impressed with the callout. "Yeah, how did you know?"

>>6813 >"How did *you* know?" she answers back, her lips pursed into a tight, sly grin. "Front and rear bumpers are body-colored and extended outward to cover up the five-mile-per-hour bumper bullshit the government forced on everyone." >"Funny, that was the telltale sign for me." "I guess I should have expected you to know with all the reading you do - but I certainly didn't expect you to know that offhanded term for this era." >"I saw it a couple of times - not a bad look, though." "I always thought they looked good - certainly one of the best integrations of the new bumpers in any car of that era. I've heard the build quality on some of em were horrendous though - certainly not something you would expect from an expensive homegrown sports car." >"Well, they gave us the Vega and the Citation, as you so eloquently pointed out once," she reminds you. "Hm. Point taken. Still, I wouldn't mind owning one. Obviously, it's easy to tune these things to a performance level at or beyond anything that was available during the golden age. And aside from the possible leaks they could have, the T-top is nice." >"Oh, are you trying to sell me on this for a project car?" she asks, smirking with a raised eyebrow. "Nope, just making small talk." >As you walk along, there are only a few passing glances from other attendees. >Midnight is too busy looking at the steel on display to care. >Or maybe she really doesn't mind. >Doesn't matter too much either way, really. >"That's.... something," Midnight comments, pointing a hoof just a few cars ahead. >The deep magenta color certainly stands out in a crowd - even amongst this hot-hued group. >Or maybe it's the body... >Midnight leads the way as you pass a couple of third and fourth-gen Camaros. "Ah yes, the forgotten orphans of the American auto scene - AMC." >"Now that you mention that, I think I remember seeing this now... Javelin?" "Yep." >Both you and Midnight come to a stop before crossing in front of it, getting a better view of the side as well as the front end. "Second-gen, '71 to '74 I know that much. Not an AMX - those all had the same grille through those years." >"And the fenders are normal?" >It is pretty hard to miss those massive humps on the front fenders... "Makes it easier to fit massive race tires for Trans-Am racing. There was a lot about this car that was made or designed with racing in mind. Actually pretty neat cars, when you take a closer look." >"Definitely out of the ordinary." >You let out another bit of laughter. "I don't know how true it is, but I also heard that when they were designing that generation, the look the designers were going for was the winner of a wet t-shirt contest." >Midnight turns to look at you, then back at the car, before once again locking eyes with you. >Utterly lost. "I'll explain when you're older." >"Hey, I'm..." >Midnight pauses, thinking as her gaze falls to the pavement momentarily. >"I'm an adult, I know that much."

>>6814 "As if I'm going to just trust the word of someone trying to convince me they aren't underage." >"Wait..." >Midnight looks at the Javelin one more time. >"I get it now. Fucking horny bastard," she mutters, shaking her head. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger." > There are a few more imports ahead of you in the line, and sadly, not many more cars to go after that. "I hope you aren't too disappointed with this morning's turnout. I really expected something decent out of it." >"You act like it's your fault. Stop that," Midnight scolds you. "No, I just said we were going to a car show and-" >"-and that's where we are, isn't it? It's not a big deal - at least it gets me used to being around other people without being overwhelmed." "So you are still a little leery being out in public? I didn't notice." >Midnight shrugs as she winces just a bit. >"I wouldn't really use that term," she says hesitantly. "I'm aware that there are people here, more than normal - such as that restaurant when you got me drunk." "I bet you will never down a glass of water that's served to you again," you tease her. >"Sure as hell gonna be more careful," she says before stopping at a red convertible. "That's a nice car." >You can't help but chuckle at her eye being caught by this one. "Is it because of the horse badge?" you joke, pointing to the emblem in the grille. >"Shut the fuck up," she sharply replies. "What's wrong with the first generation of Mustang?" "Nothing, just giving you shit," you say, easing up a bit. "It's why pony cars are called pony cars. That Javelin was part of the class. Funny thing is, the Barracuda came before the Mustang - it just wasn't attractive or popular." >"I'm going to admit, when I first heard the term 'pony car,' I was expecting... something else." >As much as you try, you can't help but smirk in amusement. "Pictured a car specifically for ponies like yourself to drive around in?" >"Maybe." "So yes." >"Fuck you." >You run your hand backward through Middie's hair, from back to front in a swift motion. >It leaves the violet-highlighted blue sea a wild mess atop her head. >Midnight nips at your arm, though mindful of the real damage she could deal to you. >"Fix it," she demands, her face mirroring her almost pouting voice, even as you feel one of her wings whap you on the back. >You're more than happy to do that though - and you do so, giving you an opportunity to pet her without risk of making her conscious of being in public. "How do you know I didn't make it worse?" you propose in a jestful tone. >"You would be giggling like a retard in a room full of bouncy balls," she replies. >Well, she's probably not wrong... >"Why does that truck look like the suspension is fucked up?" >This time, Midnight uses her wing to point out the lifted white Chevy truck. >Well, lifted in the front. >Fucking Carolina squat.

>>6815 "That's a trend among the yee-yee fucktards that feel the need to stand out, I guess. It's great if you don't want to see what's directly in front of you." >"It looks like a dog trying to take a shit." "Yeah. How ironic that it is a turd." >Midnight snorts but quickly silences herself as you both walk past the truck, whose owner stands beside it in a tanktop. >Other than a set of godawful chrome wheels, there have been no other sins committed upon the truck externally. >"Honestly, I'd take that first car over that monstrosity any day of the week," Midnight mumbles once out of range. "You and me both. Shows like these are a mixed bag - you get good stuff, meh stuff, and straight-up what-the-fuckery." >"I see this now. I suppose having learned basically nothing other than vintage American cars, I prefer looking at them." "It is nice to have variety, though," you reply. "There are other things I wouldn't mind owning that don't fit in the vintage American category. You should try expanding a little bit for shits and giggles." >"I might. Just please tell me you don't want me looking at stupid trends like that." "Middie, if you start liking trucks like that, I will beat the stupid out of you." >"Deal." >You scratch your head, ogling the last few cars left. "Well, after those, did you want to head inside and maybe get a little something to eat?" you ask. "They have phenomenal doughnuts." >"What are those?" she asks, cocking her head. >You gasp in an exaggerated fashion, putting your hand over your mouth in shock. "Well, that settles it. Come along, you poor deprived thing." >"Only if you promise to never act that gay again." "I make no promises." -----

>>6816 Nice to see Middie out and about and having a relatively good time in public, appreciating the /o/ life. inb4 she does a Notaulix during her introduction to doughnuts

>>6816 The car show might not have been what Middie originally imagined, but it sounds like she warmed up to it and had a ton of fun regardless. Curious to see where she goes with the project car thing. Going to be fun introducing Midnight to the doughnut. I can't remember if Middie is a big fan of sweets, but I'm sure she'll enjoy. Thanks for the update as always.

>>6817 I'm kind of curious now if the Auto in AutoPony's name is in reference to automobiles or if it's just a coincidence. I was going to make a joke about if the doughnut will remind Middie of her own pony doughnut but I couldn't really think of anything too good.

>>6760 >Your Friday night was pretty comfy >Pretty quiet too >For a while you kept checking your basement window, or the backyard >No Starsky >She's been a little too much on your mind for your comfort >You've felt... >Not regret >But embarrassment >In the moment, you can openly tell her that she's attractive to you >And she is >But it's also her mannerisms and her voice >Great Gaia her voice >You're pretty sure you've already fallen asleep because of her talking >But >She's a pony >An animal >Quite a romantic and idealistic one at that >But a quadruped >A creature >With a tail >... >Best not to dwell too much on that general area, given what you've seen already >After your morning rituals and shower, you head upstairs to the kitchen >You can still smell the last time the house was full of people and food >The living room TV was on and loud >Voices were still talking over it >Upstairs someone had their TV going >Even in your room, you had something going >You couldn't find a corner that was quiet to save your life >Not you can't hear anything "...morning everyone." >You say out to no one in particular >You want to believe in ghosts, spirits and the supernatural >But if they were still around, you wish they'd send you some sort of sign >You just stand there >There really is no one >Oh well >It was like this when you lived alone, in that shit-tier little apartment >You miss it >If only because it reminded you that you weren't home >Rather than out of habit, you consciously open the door to the backyard, in case you have any silly pony neighbor popping up >You were really just in the mood to grab some water and maybe do a thing of biscuits in the oven >Instead you spent nearly an hour preparing a big breakfast >Biscuits with butter, grape jelly and apple butter on the counter and ready >Strips of thick maple bacon on a paper towel-covered plate >A pair of fluffy omelets made with six eggs each and covered in shredded cheese that melts in moments >You even have a can of that frozen fruit juice that apparently had been a family staple for decades >When you finish, you peek outside >No signs of Star >Well that's alright >She likes to sleep in >And you woke up before your alarm to begin with >Maybe >You'll just wait a bit >She'll probably be bumbling in and make some sort of note of needing to wash her hooves before breakfast and make some sort of face at how you conveniently made too much for yourself >Or maybe you could use this as a >Something >Do you need a reason? >Once more the kitchen smells like it was used at full steam >But it doesn't feel alive >No one's rushing >There are no utensils clattering against plates >No passing of butter with a knife that was used on too many plates >You were just leaning against the counter, waiting for the perfect time to act like you were just now starting to get prepared >You wait until the steaming biscuits cooled off >You go from leaning to sitting on the floor >Maybe you just need to wait a little longer

two updates in the one day, what good news

>>6822 I wonder what's keeping Starsky. Thanks for the update.

>>6845 I like cereal pone, she's cute.

>>6816 >Anon takes Midnight to the doughnut shop

>>6847 >unload sacks of flour for a bakery >donuts on every package >think of ponuts every time.

>>6848 >Stay on Mr. Bones' Wild Ride for too long >Your perception of reality ascends to another realm of existence >They're everywhere >Ponuts in the food >Ponuts in machines >Ponuts at the hardware store >Ponuts in plant life >Ponuts on the horses >You cannot escape them

>>6819 No coincidence - I just never really did any greens with poners and cars aside from my first one (Changing Lanes) and this one. I live alone, but own three vehicles, probably inheriting a fourth - and only one of them is driven year round. Yeah, I have issues.

>>6822 >Starsky didn't stop by any during the weekend >You didn't mind >You did kick yourself for letting the eggs and biscuits go warm but you had a damn fine feast >You had more than enough to last into Sunday too >Outside of eating relatively fancier, you decided to do a little research into ponies like her too >Apparently they've picked up in popularity over the years >You've seen inconsistent sources but some advertise them as best friends >Kinda like the Chucky dolls, but presumably with less possession and killings >Some sources advertise them as therapy companions, like sapient... well, mini horses >Even one source on YouTube was some guy that considered himself a "connoisseur" >Apparently he... dated some? >Or he was dating one at the time of the video >That's one video you were all too eager to remove from your watch history >It's interesting to see how esoteric yet popular they are >You've certainly never seen a pony before Starsky >Maybe you just hadn't paid attention >Before you knew it, you spent all of Sunday looking into ponies >Apparently they can eat whatever >Life spans can vary greatly but they seem to average around decades, plural >No examples are given, one site claims is due to privacy... >Personally? >You don't believe much of it at all >It sounds so far-fetched >Any attempts to dig deeper more or less lead to you cycling through the same sites >It did a great job at keeping your mind occupied but it was a little too... >Invasive? >You feel like you'd probably get a much more clear view on things straight from the technicolor pony's mouth >Your curiosity bleeds into Monday >You aren't thinking of her >Not... directly, maybe >Now that you have time to yourself and to gather your thoughts... >Well >You don't know what to think >You don't really have anyone to help give you their opinions >All you're left with is your own >All you can do, for the now, is grab your cast iron skillet from the oven >In it is a batch of bacon and cheddar cheese bratwursts >Your uncle would have loved these >He never had a chance to try them out >You know for sure because he always stuck to his little tri-city area >For decades and decades he did his own thing >At least he's with everyone now >Technically >Maybe you're the only one happy that he's around >In the middle of transferring them from the skillet to a paper plate with a paper towel folded on top you hear a few knocks "Ahh... right on time. Probably smelled the bacon finally." >You smile to yourself >It would be cool to share dinner with someone >Even if you didn't eat anything else all day to indulge in the bacony goodness >You opened the back door >The faint smile you had dies >It's Starsky >But she looks... >Rough >There are a few scrapes and deep scratches on her side, both near the ribs and shoulder >Her mane is a mess >Her tail is dirty >She doesn't look so great at all >She seems to know this >"Hey Mr. A... is it ok if I go take a little shower?"

>>6877 >Her tone sounds devoid of any personality you've experienced so far >She keeps her eyes low >You see something drip from her chin to the floor >It's red "Y..." >Don't panic >Remember, act as you know you've been taught "Yeah. Go ahead, take your time. I just got some brats out, I'll put in a second batch." >Even though she has some shaggy fur on her, you can tell that some of those scratches are more cuts "...after your shower we can go ahead and get you patched up a little, too." >You succeed in controlling your emotion >Controlling a rising sense of dire panic >Did you need to get the phone? >Call the cops? >Get your dad's overly babied rifle? >There was no sense of urgency from her >And there was no one following her >Or screaming and shouting that you could tell >She stands there for far too long to make you uncomfortable >Finally she speaks >"Thanks dude. I really am going to owe you. Sorry for leaving a mess." >A few more droplets of red hit the floor "Don't worry about it. I'm gonna stay up here for a bit, get some other stuff together for you." >She nods a few times too many >"Thanks. I won't be long. Stuff smells too good to pass up. Y-you know?" >You can hear a crack in her voice >It's subtle >Quiet >Not something you think she wanted to express >She clears her throat and takes careful, deliberate steps the basement stairs >You watch her go down them >Just in case >She manages it fine but now you have a few red hoof prints on the floor and your stairs >... >... >... >You wait until she's out of view before you allow yourself to freely think >Shit >It's been years since you took any sort of EMT class or first aid course >But you're sure you can patch up a pony >What the hell happened? >You wait a few more moments and hear the shower hiss to life >At least she made it >Ignoring the frustrated grumbling of your stomach, you set off to your car >You haven't been in the bathrooms above basement level since you got here, you don't know what all is available >But you know you have your trunk bag >You'll figure something out

>>6878 Well that's not good. I wonder what happened, how badly she's hurt. I imagine something to do with Lizzy. Hopefully she stays over at Anons at least for a while. We don't want to risk anything else happening to her. Thanks for the update, looking forward to the next one.

>>6878 >You take your time getting everything set up >Plates of food on a coffee table you pulled out from the basement corner >A few drinks >A thermos of hot water >You have no clue why you'd need it but you decided to include that >Plenty of items from your car bag: medical tape, gauze, alcohol, some of those clotting granules >All thankfully individually packed >What are you missing? >You know you're missing something >You've never had to do more than patch yourself up >And certainly nothing worse than a cardboard cut or something from wood or steel >Think, Anon >All you're missing is an ice pack >... >Shit >You don't even have an ice pack >What sort of half-assed attempt is this to help someone out? >You would be an embarrassment if your- >The bathroom door opens >It's Starsky >Steam bellows out behind her >That sort of humidity probably isn't the best for any electronics but it'll probably be fine >She looks at you >Sitting on the ground, six towels laid out >A table full of food, drinks and medical items >"...you alright, Mr. A? You look like you're freaked out or something." >She slowly trots to the towels and sits down >The basement floor has been meticulously cleaned a few times over so her wet tail trailing on the floor won't be a worry >You can't seem to stop yourself from thinking a mile a minute "Me? Yeah. I... yeah." >How can she be so relaxed over this? "So... where do we start? Where is the worst?" >She leans away from you, revealing her side >The deep scratches look more like slices, or cuts >"There's that... and then here." >She raises up her head >It looks like a cut went from her rib all the way up her neck >"Don't worry, Mr. A. I kinda curled up and had a good cry so the bleeding stopped." "...alright. Is this all of it?" >She nods >"Relax, man. It really ain't that bad. It was like... a marathon, not a sprint. You know?" "Not at all. Lay down, alright?" >You have far too many thoughts swirling around but you channel your focus entirely into her >First, you help part her fur and make sure none of her mane is in the way >The alcohol comes second >Starsky twitches at what must be quite a sting but she seems resilient enough >That's good >Third >Third... >Gotta clean it >No, you already cleaned it >Focus, Anon >Third, the clotting agent >Your hands are shaking >No, that must just from you shaking the packet >Next comes the gauze >It's been cleaned, there's no further chance for her wound to bleed >"Mr. A, don't suffocate. Alright?" "W-huh?" >She's smiling >"Relax, man. I'm safe. We're not exactly in a hospital and this ain't so bad. You look like you're the one who's hurt." "Yeah well... stay quiet for a bit." >Relax... >Can you relax? >Should you? >You should >You inhale >Exhale >You repeat the process a few times "Alright."

>>6882 >With renewed focus, you dress her cuts >Thankfully your car bag is nearby >Without thinking, you grab some ointment and add those to the gauze pads >After you cover the cuts and main slice, you get the bandage wraps >You also pulled those out from the car bag "Alright, sit up enough so I can wrap this around >"Sure thing, Mr. A. Be careful, I don't wanna be a mummy." >You wrap her neck first >She has fur... >The medical tape wouldn't have worked for her anyway >You do your best to wrap up her shoulder and the section around her ribs >You end up wrapping around her chest >By the time you finish, you had to use two more rolls >Your tunnel vision eases up >How did you do? >Would this really be good enough? >Starsky looks down at herself >"Woah... you're, like, a doctor or something. Last time I got all scratched up, I... uh, definitely didn't get all of this." "Yeah, I..." >Maybe you overdid it >What would your dad say if he saw this? >He'd probably say that you overdid it on the bandage wrapping >Or that the neck was the only part that really needed it "I did it." >Starsky nods >"You sure did, man. Maybe you saved my life, even." >The fog in your head clears "Yeah. Maybe." >You shake your head >All of this blindsided you "Star... what the hell happened?" >"Iiiiiiii kinda told Lizzy that she was a serious drag... and that I was gonna kinda maybe gonna hang out with someone else who wouldn't be so harsh." >You think you understand what she's saying >"And... I kinda said that I didn't want to come back. So she got mad. And said some pretty brutal stuff." >When did this happen? >"And... yeaahh she... did not really appreciate that from me." >You have far too many questions to this >Are you glad that she came here? >You're glad to see that she's alright >Relatively speaking >The first question that leaves your head through your mouth probably says it all "...you have anything to eat lately?" >She looks at you >And at the plates you set up >She gives you the most mellow smirk >Is it almost condescending? >"I don't think so, Mr. A. Wanna have a celebratory dinner?" "Yeah. Uh... yeah, help yourself. I'm glad you're here." >"I am too. Thanks, Anon." "Not a problem. I'm... ah, I'm gonna head back to the kitchen for something. Help yourself. I got some stuff that's... yeah. It's there." >Before you give her the chance to say anything more, you head upstairs in a bit of a rush >You spend entire minutes washing your hands >You don't know what would have happened if you weren't prepared >What if you weren't prepared? >What if she were hurt worse? >What if she didn't leave the bathroom? "Come on, man... get it together." >It reminds you too much of when EMS showed up >There was no screaming or panicking then either >Not really >Just like then, you were near dead silent and laser focused too "Alright... alright alright... it's fine." >You splash some water against your face >You only ever thought people did that in movies >She's alive >It'll be alright

>>6883 Looks like Starsky's moving in. Hopefully everything heals up alright. Thanks for another update.

>>6883 Oh. I see we're back on the paintrain again /bootleg/, I can't say I'm surprised about it though, kind of saw something like this coming. Starsky having semi-independence was too much for Lizzy who probably thinks she owns her. If Anon wasn't around do you think she would bail out and live on the streets or would she endure it to the end?

>>6896 Without Anon, Starsky wouldn't have had a reason to tell Lizzy she's leaving. So there's a fair chance that she'd be just perpetually stuck in her previous situation. If Lizzy ended up beating her anyway, I fear that she would have tried to endure it for a while with how she is. Eventually I think that she would have bailed, but after how long?

>>6883 >It's late >Far too late >What are you doing awake? >You have the TV going but you've long lost focus on what it was playing >Some sort of YouTube playlist >Where's Star? >You yawn and bring your head up >She's still on the loveseat, curled up >You gave her a blanket and pillow but for some reason she's using the blanket as a pillow and the pillow as a cover >She's still out of it >... >You watch her for a few moments >Just long enough to tell that she's still breathing >Good >You bring your head back down >You probably have gone a little overboard about her cut >But it was really deep >And you really don't want it to get infected >Or to leave a scar >You had cleaned up the blood she left on the floor and stairs >It was not a small amount >When did it happen? >What would have happened if you weren't there? >Or rather, if she didn't come to you? >How much blood has she lost by that time? >Once she hopped onto the seat she hadn't really done much but sleep >Is this for the best? >For her? >It probably is >Is it good for you? >You didn't even really know that ponies existed >And you're still not completely sure on what to think on the aspect of having a talking pony around >A female one >Are you even comfortable with having a girl stay with you? >It's not like you've bothered with dating for a while >And... it's not like anyone is around to give judgement >Or advice >"Mr. Aaaaaaaaaaa..." >You jump at the low croak >Is she sleep talking? >"You uuuuuuuuup...?" >No, she's apparently awake "How you doing, Star?" >"Duuuuuude... my stuff hurts." "Yeah... I bet. Are you flexing your side all that much?" >You hear a groan >She's probably trying to move >"Ow... not anymore. Thanks for going overboard, Mr. A. I'm pretty sure something might have opened up just now if I wasn't so tightly sealed." "Sure, don't worry about it." >Maybe it was good that you didn't half-ass it >"...can you... like, do me a solid? And get me some water?" "Yeah, alright. I couldn't really stay asleep so good timing." >She lets out a slow chuckle >"Helps that I saw you checking me out. Let me at least heal a little more, ok? Then you can look all you like." >Before you let your body react to that mental image, you get up >"Daaaaaaaaang Mr. A... vulnerable girls your deal?" >Shit "Shaddap." >That's all the wit you can muster before going upstairs >The stairs are pretty dim but you're so used to them that you could probably go up and down with your eyes closed >You get the biggest cup you can and fill it with water and a little spit of ice >You always ragged on your dad for getting a fridge that had a water and ice dispenser >Apparently the joke's on you >It even has a nice filter, so you keep the local water filter merchant happy >Before you go back down, you look out to the backyard

>>6914 >There's no sign of anyone snooping around >You did check outside earlier when the sun was up and... >The alleyway looked >Grotesque >Like Starsky walked around up and down for a while to bleed everywhere >It couldn't have just been her that was hurt >Did something happen out there? >You aren't the sort to openly gossip to the neighbors so you don't know if they know anything >Cops haven't come by yet either >Or animal control >Should you worry? >Well probably >You're a part of this now apparently "Gah... crap." >It's too late to overthink that sort of thing >You're doing what you can now >That's all that really matters >You recheck the locks and head back downstairs >Starsky hasn't budged an inch >You set the cup down near the TV and shift the coffee table right next to her >It isn't the exact right height >But it should be easier for her to access >You grab the cup and set it down "Hey, Starsky. Here you are. I... forgot to check if we have any straws. It would probably help, huh." >She shrugs with her good shoulder >"Nah man, it's ok. I'm not really that big a drinker. But if you could kinda tilt it for me?" "Sure." >You hold it for her and tilt it forward >She drinks more than half of the cup before she nods >"Thaaaaaaaanks, bro. You really might have saved my life. Y'know?" "Yeah... I guess I did. Well, don't mention it, yeah?" >"Humble too?" >She nuzzles the blanket and sighs >You only just now notice that she hasn't really opened her eyes at all >"Good stuff, man. I'm gonna get more sleep. Gu'night." >After another sigh, she seems to relax >Her entire side must hurt like hell >That slice had to happen recently, when she popped up >Probably was still fresh and had enough adrenaline in her system that it didn't feel as bad as it should have "Yeah... g'night." >You return to your couch >You sink down a full five inches >Probably for the best that she got the loveseat, it isn't nearly as busted and broken down >You feel like the cushions have only gotten more squished down with you always sitting or laying on them too >You'd much rather replace the innards than to get a new couch >You lay down >Your mind is too active >And it's too late >You reach over for the clicker so y- >It's on the table >And you moved the table out of reach >Damn it >Oh well >You're fine with listening to two sleepy guys barely playing a cash grab adventure game >You close your eyes >You want to talk to Starsky about what happened >You should >You will >But only after she's recovered >Fully >That Lizzy chick has gotta come knocking soon >She's gotta feel some sort of regret over this >Right?

>>6896 To be fair, I tend to gravitate toward hard feels that resonate hard with very few types. It's something I touched on with a short if-scenario story when I was ear deep in Jacky: humans that have ponies as just pets. They're the same types of people who have pets as status symbols but don't know or care about how to take care of them. I have no doubt that she and Lizzy used to be pretty tight. But that was then. >>6903 I think she was looking for an exit strategy in general. Sometimes, having nothing is better than having something bad. Given her wound, if there wasn't Anon to help...

>>6816 >"Well this looks like some seriously primitive shit." "Maybe an open mind will help with your perception?" >"I never said I hated it." >You poke at the firepit that sits in front of you with a scrap length of rusted steel, moving the crackling wood chunks around to perk up the flames a bit. >It isn't really that cold out, but as the sun sets, the warmth and light the fire provides is a welcome comfort. >It may not be particularly classy, considering the wood is arranged in a battered and weathered steel truck rim, which was a fortunate find over a tiny fourteen-inch car steelie. >As well as a worn and torn vinyl bench seat from a Biscayne to serve as a shared lawn chair for you and Midnight. >"I don't hate this, by the way," Midnight clarifies. "I just didn't know what to say." "I know, you don't have to apologize," you reassure her. "We aren't fancy around here - otherwise, we wouldn't even be outside." >"Well, sort of like old times for me," Midnight says, a bit of a laugh following the comment. >It's a rather strained laugh, though. >Of course, Midnight spent quite some time roughing it out in the junkyard before you found her. "It doesn't bring up bad memories, does it?" >"Hm?" "The early days? Living out here?" >"Oh - no, not really," she replies, waving a hoof. "You have to remember, other than the fear of getting caught, this was like paradise compared to the lab. Sure, I was provided for in there, climate control, all that... but there was no free will. It was just asking how high to jump when instructed, so to speak." >Midnight looks beyond the rows of cars, to the horizon where the sun is barely hanging on. >"I never saw the 'outside' until I was dumped here," she mumbles. "We had sunrises, sunsets, and night - but nothing like reality." "That something that really can't be replicated." >"They really didn't try. Of course, everyone was complacent, took it all at face value. I probably did before they started fucking with my head. After that - I guess I just saw through the whole charade. I don't know how, but I could just tell everything was... artificial." >She turns back to look at you. >"Getting away from what this is supposed to be about though, aren't we?" >You can't help but shrug. "There's not really a right or wrong way to enjoy a campfire, Middie. You don't seem upset discussing this." >"No, not really," she says, shaking her head. "I feel like I've been able to sort it out. I'm not just blindly angered or upset by what I've been through. Ive dealt with it, I guess." >You toss another chunk of wood on the fire, watching as the flames hungrily envelop the newest morsel. >"I thought you said you were going to try cooking over a fire - what happened to that idea?" "Laziness. Also, this is a really short fire ring - I would want something that I don't have to practically get on my knees to flip and check how food is cooking." >"You could have stopped at laziness."

>>6918 "That doesn't mean I won't ever do it - just not with this setup," you say, leaning over and booping her on the nose. >As usual, she playfully gnashes at the presence of your finger as it departs. >"So you basically need to come up with something that sits higher." "That would be ideal," you say with a nod. "Heck, I could probably stack a couple of rims on top of one another and tack weld em. I bet that would work well enough, assuming I can find some more of these. Probably have more somewhere..." >"That wasn't hard, now was it?" she chides with a smirk. "You have no idea. Took all three of my brain cells lining up and connecting together in a short circuit to do that." >"Careful, that's actually a believable story." >From there, things fall quiet for a bit. >Only the snap and pop of the fire and the distant sound of a passing car out front dares to intrude. >"What is the... end goal? With me, I mean." "I don't follow," you respond, turning to her. >Midnight has shrunk herself down just a bit, apparently feeling a bit exposed. >"Well, I don't really understand this whole - you and me. A relationship, I suppose. What is the end goal?" >That's a... >Hell, how do you even answer that? >You're stumped. >Midnight seems to sense your befuddlement. >"That might just be the 'electronic' side of my brain, but I feel this nagging sense of what it all means. In an objective, black and white sense. You have to understand, I've never had anything like this." "I get it, Midnight," you say, hooking your arm around her and pulling her up next to you. >She's surprisingly yielding tonight. "I guess I don't have an answer to that. Relationships are... they're just a closer friendship, I suppose? Don't get me wrong, I don't have much experience, and it's been some time since my last attempt. But I like being around you, and you seem to be a bit more tolerable of me. So stuff like this, just talking, being close, enjoying each other's company... I guess that's what it's about." >You look over at her. >Midnight's scrunched face tells you she's hesitant to reply. "That wasn't very much help, was it?" >"Maybe a little bit." "You could have just said no." >"You tried, though." "And now you're worried about my feelings? What are you, gay?" >Midnight pokes you in the ribs with her hoof. "Ow," you announce monotonously. >"Puss." >She leans her weight onto you, sighing contently. "You know, for someone so full of hellfire and rage when we first met, you can be surprisingly mellow when you want to be. It's nice to see." >"You can actually be pleasant to be around sometimes when you stop trying to be funny all the time." "Or picking at you for my own amusement." >"That too." "I suppose life is a work in progress. Never fully completed. To be fair, I didn't really know how to act around you. You didn't want much to do with me, and the only way I felt I could dispel the tension was by being a purposeful dumbass. And you are kind of cute when you're spitting fire."

>>6919 >"Cute, huh? You didn't seem to think so the first time you made me mad." "...okay, so you can be a little frightening." >Midnight gets a snicker from that. >"I'm starting to understand the 'relaxing' thing more. It's easier when you don't have to worry about your situation or planning far into the future." >You understand the first part. >The second is... murky. "Planning? You mean getting the junkyard to make a profit?" >Midnight remains mum, her eyes focused on the fire as it glows, the only light afforded now that the sun has completely vanished. >Maybe there's something more. "You good?" >"I really did see you as nothing more than a means to an end at one time, Anon," she says, sounding rather bitter. "I know." >"That's why I started trying to learn about cars - well, part of the reason. I really do like reading, and that's what was available," she says, turning her head back to you. "I knew I couldn't hide out forever." >Holy shit. "So, you meant for me to find you?" >"Maybe earlier than I wanted - but yeah. I knew I was going to have to be useful to someone in order to have a chance at staying under the radar. It was either make some sort of connection here or risk trying to find somewhere else to hide." "And you took a chance on me." >"I took a chance on you." >With no warning, Midnight quickly leans back and toward you at an angle, planting a light kiss on your cheek that you would have missed had you blinked. >But you didn't. >As if ashamed or unsure of her actions, her ears pin back as her gaze goes straight into the flames once again. >Well that was... >Unexpected. >That's all your mind can come up with right now. >Nothing in your brain wants to connect to say, do, think... >That was a thing. >A very surprising thing. >"Sorry," Midnight mumbles. > It's clear she's wondering if she actually did something wrong. >You dumbass. >Do something. >The only thing you can think of is to lean toward her. >Kiss the mare. >As you get closer to her, Midnight's eyes dart to you, spying the movement out of the corner of her eye. >She turns to face you head-on, her face stained with uncertainty. "Hi." >That was the first thing that came to mind? >Holy shit, dude... >"Hi," she repeats back quietly. >Yet somehow, that simple awkward exchange is enough. >Midnight meets you in the middle, this time sure of herself as you and her gently lock lips. >There's no aggression. >No heated, lustful passion behind it. >It's an overwhelming sense of unity. >You both took a chance upon each other. >You both needed each other, without realizing it. >In many ways. >Even despite lamenting the initial situation and arrangements. >Somehow... >It's all led here. >Already having one arm around her back, you sling the other one around her and fully embrace her. >Likewise, you feel her forelegs fumble around your midriff before finding a suitable location. >Even her wings are eager to join in the hug as the feathers brush past and nestle up over your back. >As she backs up a bit, you feel another exhale of content tickle your face, as the serene smile that greets your vision is a wonderful sight. >"Thanks for giving me a shot, Anon." "Likewise, Middie." >Neither of you is ready to let go of each other. >After all, it can get cold at night in the desert...

>>6920 >Man and mare finally kiss All is well with the world.

>>6920 Anon spills spaghetti and gets the mare, the stars have aligned

>>6915 In this case, hopefully no one comes looking for Starsky. My only concern would be someone following the blood trail and ending up right at Anon's back step. It's good that Star is getting some rest, she probably needs it after all that. >>6920 This is just nice. Firepit cuddles with Midnight AND a kiss, doesn't get much better than that. It's good to see the relationship progressing between the two of them. Thanks for the updates.

>get huge migraine while working >/mlp/boot on page 10 after a fucking hour >cant bump due to capcha mfw

>>6927 Sounds terrible, hope you feel better soon.

>>6928 I'm better for now, but still separated from the boot. so its a mixed feel. That was a new pic of Starsky, but the others will have to post it before the thread dies due to some faggot going around necrobumping everything on /mlp/ >>6916 Can't help but see many similarities with her and Twill. Remember to take care of your bootleg mares anons, they might need it more than you. Is it just me or does it seem like Twilight Sparkle bootlegs end up with the short straw more than the rest? Time to catchup on mid

>>6934 >Time to catch up on mid Don't do it, bro. Warning you now, it's really disturbing shit like feelings and cuddles

>>6915 >You've made some alterations to the basement >To the bathroom, specifically >You undid the grate for the drain so she could do her business >You went to the first floor bathroom and got a stool so she could more easily get in and out of the loveseat >And you've brought down the little picnic basket full of medicine from the kitchen >Your dad wasn't much of a health nut but he hated hospitals >So, naturally, the only sensible option was to buy and stockpile nearly every medicine known to man >The ones you can get over the counter, anyway >And a shit ton of vitamins >Though you haven't been able to accurately gauge her condition beyond asking her how she's doing, you've been giving her things that would ease pain and fever >The damage isn't so bad... >To a human >But to a pony? >The human equivalent would be like getting sliced by a sword a few times >Outside of helping her up and down from the seat, you haven't been able to do much >You tried to use a few snack clips to help keep her mane and tail manageable but those weren't beefy enough to contain so much hair >Between those and her fur, when was the last time she had a haircut? >You felt bad about the idea of leaving her alone so you called in for the rest of the week >If you were smarter, you probably would have gone out to a pet store and grab a grooming kit or something >Instead, you wanted to just be near her >Just in case >Even if you didn't know her, you couldn't just leave her alone >...come to think of it, you don't actually know her >"You really might have saved my life." >Those words have been stuck in your head like a migraine >You try to not think about it >You try >To focus on something, you've been on your computer all day >It's a fancy laptop but you get the feeling that you bought it on a painfully high markup >Your first option for research was YouTube, to search for ponies like her >Apparently there is a huge market for pony outfits, as niche as they are >The most popular video hasn't even gotten 500k views >All of the videos are by humans though >One has a pony, but it doesn't say anything >Dark green with brown mane and some sort of bridle on >Cosplaying as Velma Dinkley, no less >Some videos are years old >Most are, actually >The most recent one is from a few days ago >Less than 10k views >Well alright >Keeping the volume down, you watch it >It's a pony >More so, it's a vlog >She's a complete scatterbrain because no train of thought lasts longer than a minute >By the end of it, you have learned a whopping Jack and shit >And Jack forgot to do his homework >Well >Fuck it >Pony or human, you probably could do with reaching out for some help >The vlog could use the comments too, it has less than ten >At least she answered every one of them >After a few minutes of mumbling possible questions to yourself, you put your best thought forward >"Hey, I have a really hurt mare with me. What are some ways I can help her out? She >... >Do you say that you own her?

>>6946 >That's a little bit of a faux pas, isn't it? >Starsky wanted you to buy her >And it's not like she has any sort of... ID on her >Unless she's chipped >Is that a thing for sapient technicolor ponies? >It probably is >You'll have to ask Starsky when she's conscious enough to do more than groan and ask for a drink >"Hey, I have a really hurt mare with me. Someone attacked her and kinda got her side and shoulder. I cleaned and dressed it and tomorrow I'm going to examine and re-dress it. I plan on doing this every other day from Friday onward until she's all better. What do you recommend for medicine? What do you think would help the most to make her feel better?" >Yeah >That looks good >... >Almost >You add a little something to the end >"We haven't been together for that long at all but I need her to get better. Please recommend whatever helped you if you ever got hurt or sick. Thanks in advance." >You aren't sure if you should, but you click on the Comment button >Is this really the best you can do? >Comment on random videos and hope you get something useful in time? >In time... >It's not like she's going to die >But if it was less dire an injury, she would at least walk without keeping her leg up >Maybe the blood loss had an effect? >Without a larger goal or anything else to do, you look into symptoms for blood loss >Shortness of breath? >Check >Weakness? >Check >Fatigue? >Triple check >Cold hands and feet >... >Well you don't know the pony equivalent to that so that's a wash >If anything it feels like parts of her are pretty warm >And you're already combating that with pain and fever reducer >You keep clicking along to grab whatever info you can >After 48 hours the body replaces plasma >At least for humans that is true >But it can take over a month to replenish red blood cell count >Maybe two >Would a vet be a good option then? >Maybe >A blood transfusion would surely help >You'll have to ask her about that when she's up and alert >What would that cost? >"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey Misterrrr Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." >Your head snaps from the monitor to her >She has the most comfortable, sleepy smile >"You know, you're kinda cute when you talk to yourself." "...oh, I was?" >"Enough to wake me up, dude." "Ah... crap. Sorry. Hey, have you gone to a vet before?" >She moves to shake her head but she just nudges her head an inch in either direction >"Nah man, I'm a child of nature." >She makes a funny face and rolls her tongue around >"Hey Anon... I'm kinda shriveling up here. Can you give me a sipple?" "On it." >You set the laptop down and go to her side >The cup has a straw this time so you just lift it up a bit for her to go at it >The cup goes from entirely full to empty in seconds

>>6947 >She sighs like that was what her body needed to finally wake up >Enough to open an eye at least >"Thanks, man. I really owe you one." "Nah, don't worry about it. You'd do the same to me, right?" >"And more, Mr. A... and more." >She tries to nod >Since she can't phase her head through the loveseat arm the attempted nod turns more into a forward and backward head bob >"What are you talking about blood for? I know that mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell but you got me on what that means." "That? I'm just looking up some stuff. Hey, how long were you walking around after getting scratched up like that?" >It's worse than idle scratches >"Iunno. Like... a few hours." >She shrugs with her good shoulder >"It didn't happen at the house. Otherwise I guess I would'a just hoofed it and not say anything." >She blinks after a moment of silence >"...nah. I probably would have let it happen anyway. Gotta be honest, right?" "Right... well, honestly, I'm worried that it may be a while before you're up and prancing about." >"What's the worst that happens? I be a lump on your stuff? I'm kinda already that in my best condition." "I mean it. I'll look up what sort of foods will help the most but until everything is healed up we gotta treat this like what it is." >"Like what, an attempted murder?" >It seems like her teasing tone was uncalled for, even for her >After a second, her expression turns >Dark >"...it wasn't like that, you know. Stuff just happens. Right?" >She closes her eye >"Friends make accidents. It's just gonna suck for me a bit longer than it's gonna suck for her. Just don't poke my stuff, ok?" "Yeah. Lemme know if you want anything, alright?" >She bobs her head once as a response and goes still >At a glance it looks like she could be sleeping >But her face looks tense >Like she's trying to stop from emoting >Her breathing is irregular too >Is that a sign of anemia? >You nod a few times >If she's not actually tired she doesn't want to talk anymore >After watching her face for another minute you go back to the sofa >The way you slowly sink to the bottom elicits a soft snort from the presumably napping pony >Good to see that she's still in good humor >You go back to your laptop >What did you say to her, about food? >Your search goes to that next >Red meats, spinach, dairy >...red peppers? "Yeah, that'll help alright... take a chomp and you'll start breathing fire. Then later you'll be shitting fire too. I guess if that doesn't somehow kill you, it'll help out somehow..." >Your mumbling causes another snort >"Mr. A... you gotta chill. I can't sulk and brood while you talk like that." "Yeah? Well you better start feeling better or else I'll have to bring it out. I have red pepper flakes above the oven, I'm not afraid to use them." >"Daaaang... I didn't take you for such a sadist, bro. Have mercy on a mangled mare." >You watch her face after she speaks >She does seem to relax more >You can tell because she has a natural smile >It's cute

It's ok. Because she's still smiling on the outside. It'll be ok. Because she can still smile on the inside too.

>>6927 Meant for >>6949 Really good art. I like that she's had an effect, enough to warrant art so quickly.

>>6948 Definitely concerned for Star. If she needs anything more advanced than what Anon can provide, seems like it'll be difficult to get into contact with someone who knows what they're doing. Who knows if a regular vet would be willing or able to do anything. At least she seems to be doing alright for the moment. Thanks for the update.

>>6947 >medical advice from a youtube comment section well it was fun whilst it lasted.. r.i.p. cute pone

>>6956 >Pony YouTuber I wonder how ponies type in this world. Do they have specialized equipment or do they peck with something like a pencil in their mouths.

Hi everyone. I took my other bootleg story, Zooma (paste in the OP), off hiatus. 10. Messenger >2:57 A.M. > >I had another dream. >Thankfully I didn't wake Anon up with my screaming, like last time. He didn't even budge as I slipped out of bed. >It was his suggestion, to start this dream journal. I see the value in documenting them immediately after waking, but even now, four entries into this experiment, I have yet to glean any meaning from these reoccurring, unsettling visions. >As in the previous dreams, my sisters' voices are muffled; audible, but unintelligible. Their faces are never visible head-on. I can catch glimpses of their eyes if I'm looking at them at an angle from behind, but the moment they turn directly to me, their faces become blurred-out. Likewise, their cutie marks suffer the same blurriness. >I think that scares me the most- when one of them runs up to me and grabs me by the shoulders. They shout, throw their heads to and fro, whinny and flick their tails, but I can never understand them. Only their fear seems to transcend this fogginess, which amplifies my own anxiety. >I'm shivering just thinking about it. >We're always in a large room, whose blinding, white walls seem to stretch to infinity. Sometimes my sisters appear to be grazing peacefully, other times they're running about in a frenzy. The room shrinks whenever they panic, yet the walls seem to be an unending constant despite this. >Like my previous dream, my sisters tried to hide me, and like last time, I ultimately found myself rolling down a long, dark gray hallway, atop a cold stainless steel gurney. I had the presence of mind to look around this time. Two humans in crimson scrubs pushed my gurney; faces obscured by surgical masks. >The next thing I remember is a bright light blazing to life at the ceiling of a large, circular room. I watched the scrubs on one of the humans turn black, morphing into a very nice suit. His hands always seemed to be obscuring his face. Come to think of it, I never saw any part of his head, nor his skin. >More humans in crimson scrubs. They scurry about like worker ants. The man in the suit talks to somebody whom I figure to be the lead doctor. I only understand limited words from their conversation: >"ethical" >"delayed" >"responsible" >"study" >"potential" >"survival" >"side effects" >"compensation" >There's a beeping; my heart beat. >They're attaching things to my legs. I try to fight, but my movements are so sluggish, as if I was trying to move through syrup. >At some point, they slip a mask over my muzzle. >And then I wake up. ... "Hey, Chad?" >He holds the gym door open for you before replying. "Sup, bruh?" "Does Spitfire ever struggle with nightmares?" >"Pshh, naw man." He laughs to himself. "That mare runs so hot all day long, she's out cold the minute she closes her eyes. Dead to the world, dude, until the sun rises again." "Huh." >Several paces into the parking lot, Chad turns to you. >"Why? Zooma not sleeping well?"

>>6993 "Not lately. Reoccurring dreams; nightmares, really. She seems to think they're memories of where she came from, but at the same time, she also claims to have no memory of the places she's seen in her dreams." >Chad throws an arm over your shoulder, coaxing you back into a walk in the direction of his car. >"I dunno man. Could be repressed memories or some shit like that." "You think so?" >"Pshyah, bruh! Didn't you say you found her in a really skeezy place? Like, she literally fell off the back of a ghetto army truck or something?" "Well, yeah..." >You look over at Chad, whose eyes have been expecting yours. "You don't think that... y'know... there might have been-" >I dunno, bro! But we can try to find out!" "How?" >"Uh, we'll go drive to the place you found her! Duh!" "Shit... I was only ever there that one time. Don't know if I remember how to get there." >Chad pulls the key fob from this jacket pocket and unlocks his car. The trunk pops open, allowing you both to stow your gym bags. >"Don't sweat it, bruh. We'll retrace your steps. It'll come back to you." "Do you really want to do this right now?" >Chad chuckles. "Why not? Maybe we'll discover something useful to Zooma if we just scope the place out. If it could help Z, it outta be important to you, and if it's important to you, then it's important to me, bro!" >You grab the mountain of the man and give him the most crushing hug you can. "Thanks, Chad." >He returns the hug and thumps your back. >"No problem, Anon." >The ride to your work is uneventful. Your commute was much improved due to Chad's company, and the fact that the interstate was fairly tame, due to it being half-past one on a Friday afternoon. >Gotta love that four-tens work schedule. >Skyscrapers pass by your left, a stadium to your right. Overpasses, underpasses, exits, and on-ramps swirl around you like arms from a massive concrete octopus. An exit ramp and six stop lights later, and you're passing your office building. >"Dude, you work in the hood." "Almost stepped on a used heroin needle when I got out of my car Monday morning." >"How'd you know it was used for heroin?" "What? I mean... I dunno. Wait, needles aren't just for heroin?" >Chad laughs. "Just fuckin' with ya, dude. Gotta work on lightening up, Anon. You're still so tense." "Right... sorry." >"Hey man, nothing to apologize for. Just remember to be cool. Calm. In command of any situation you find yourself in, yeah?" "...yeah." >"Not very convincing." "PSHYAH, BRUH. LARGE AND IN CHARGE LIKE CHAD THUNDERCOCK, HORSEFUCKER EXTRAORDINAIRE!" >Chad laughs at your impression of him, slapping the steering wheel as he does. >"Thundercogque. It's pronounced, 'Thunder-coke'." "Suuuuuuuure it is." >An amused snort breaks up his laughter. "Oh, turn right at this light."

>>6994 >You've made this journey countless times. A strange feeling develops in your gut as you prepare to deliberately retrace your alternate route from that fateful day you met your love. "Okay, I pulled over right here," you say, pointing. "Then I hoofed it through Chinatown over there." >Chad flips his turn signal and spins the steering wheel clockwise. "'kay, then. Look out, Chinatown!" >If memory serves you, you stayed on this road until it terminated at a three-way intersection. >Right turn. >Straight for seven blocks. >Left at the four-way stop sign. >Chad has slowed the car down to ten miles per hour. The tuned exhaust rumbles a low droning note as you creep along the virtually-deserted streets. >"Any of this look familiar, bruh?" "Hmm... I dunno, all the buildings look familiar- wait. Hey, stop! Back up!" >"Where?" "This alley on my side! Turn here." >Chain-link fences line the narrow road, itself barely wide enough for Chad's car to pass through. It veers slightly left, inclining as it goes. >Oh yeah. It's all coming together. >You crest the hill and see the two warehouses, gray as ever. "There." >Chad hums. He brings his car to a stop in the exact spot the deuce-and-a-half was parked all those months ago. >The car shudders a bit when Chad kills the engine. Without a word, the two of you step out of the sky-blue coupe. >There's nothing here. >Rather, there is- the warehouses remain, after all. >"You sure this is the place?" "I'm absolutely sure. But it doesn't look like there's anything worthwhile here." >"I dunno, bro. No signage, no vehicles, but look at all the concertina wire," Chad counters, gesturing to the top of the chain-link fence that outlines the property's perimeter. "And those shiny new security cameras seem out of place on these old buildings." "Those definitely weren't there when I-" >"Shh!" Chad holds up a finger, then looks to the warehouses' roofs. He's rigid as a statue, save for his eyes, which dart left and right, scanning the junction of building and sky. "What is it?" you finally whisper after several tense moments. >"Thought I heard something up there." "All I can hear is that transformer over there." >"Yeah, hard not to notice it humming, which means..." "The buildings are getting power." you say together. >"I'm gonna be deadass with you, Anon... this place rustles my jimmies pretty hard." "I know what you mean." >You look around the desolate complex. Upon further inspection, the door knob and deadbolt on the nearest warehouse entrance appears to be brand new too. "I'm still going to have a look around. For Zooma." >"For Zooma." >Gravel crunches under your feet as you walk the perimeter of the complex. The warehouses are identical and completely unremarkable, save for the abundance of concertina wire and security cameras. >"Hey, Anon." Chad's voice is low, almost a growl. "What's up?" >"See the shadow the roof is casting on the ground in front of us?"

>>6995 "Yeah? What about it?" >"Keep an eye on it." "Okay, what am I supposed to be looking-" >The shadow changed; only for a faction of a second. "Oh shit!" You whirl around, scanning the roof line as Chad did shortly after your arrival. >Both of you watch the roof and sky, looking for another hint of what cast that moving shadow. It doesn't return. >You resume a quickened pace and round the corner to the buildings' far side, opposite of Chad's car. >There's a strange chemical smell you can't identify that hangs in the air. >"Dude, check it out." >Crates- identical to the one Zooma burst out of. They're stacked haphazardly atop one another; lopsided wooden hills that litter the weedy ground. "Zooma was in one of those when she fell from that truck!" >"Jesus Tittyfucking Christ, man." >That damned fence prevents any closer scrutiny. You jog the remaining couple hundred meters back to Chad's car. >Chad freezes freezes, car key dangling in his fingers. >You heard it too; a distinct 'clip-clop' on metal. Above and behind you. "Chad, I think there's a pony on the roof." >He nods, then calls out in the direction of the noise, "Spits? Honey, is that you?" >Silence. "What would she be doing all the way out here?" >"She's pulled pranks like this on me before." "Sure, but do you really think she'd fly all the way out here just to mess with you?" >"Good point. Still..." >Chad fishes his phone out from the depths of his jacket pocket. >"Babe. Where are you right now?" he speaks into the phone whilst keeping his eyes locked on the warehouse roof. "Baby, I mean it! This is serious!" >Tiptoeing to the passenger door, you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. >"Okay, cool. I'll explain when I get home. Gotta go. Love you too." Chad hangs up the phone and unlocks the car. "Dude. Bro. Something is way off about this place. Let's bounce." >He doesn't need to tell you twice. >Eight cylinders roar to life. Tires spit gravel and dust when Chad drops the clutch. He doesn't look back as he speeds through the narrow alley, back the way you came, though you think you might have seen something in the rearview mirror. >Neither of you speak until you exit Chinatown. Chad rolls his window down. The air is chilly, but not unpleasant. >"Not gonna lie, Anon- not only did that place rustle my jimmies, my critters got kinda jittered back there too." "Did you get a good look at that shadow?" >"Naw, man. You?" "No. Didn't realize what was going on until after it disappeared. But I'm pretty sure I heard hooves on that metal roof." >"Same." "What do you make of all that?" >"I dunno, bro, but it's obvious somebody wants to keep those buildings under wraps." >Several blocks pass. You can't shake the feeling of being watched, as if whatever was on the roof is now following you. >"NICE." Chad says, looking at something in the mirror. "Now that's a sexy car if I've ever seen one."

>>6996 >Looking over your left shoulder, you see what Chad was talking about. A black coupe. It stops beside you. >The windows are tinted- far darker than the legal limit, you think. Still, it looks like the driver is looking at you. >Chad flexes a beefy arm out his window. "You mirin', brah?" he says to the newcomer. >You look at the driver from behind Chad. "Dude, did he just take a picture?" >"Ha! He totally did! The flash went off on his phone!" >The stoplight turns green, and the coupe speeds off, actually squealing the tires. >"Heh. Fag." "That was weird." >Chad shifts gears. He tries to catch up to the speeding car, but the other driver is too reckless, weaving between cars, changing lanes without warning, almost causing several wrecks along the way, the madman. No, he is even worse than a madman. He drives like- may Allah forgive me for typing this word- a Californian. >"Eh, not worth causing a wreck to catch that homo." Chad runs his right hand through his mohawk. "Still, would've been nice to beat that six-figure krautmobile with some good old-fashioned American muscle." "What kind of car was that, again?" >"Mercedes-Benz." "Huh." >Chad slaps your thigh. "You good, bro? You seem kinda out of it." "I'm fine. It's just... I feel like I've forgotten something important." >"Probably still worked up from that warehouse place." "I guess." >"Don't sweat it, bro." Chad's phone chirps. He glances at it, then at you. "Hey, how do you and Zooma feel about a double date? Spits wants to know." ... "What's that?" >Zooma sets her fork down. She retracts her wing, then reaches out to you with her left foreleg. Her olive hoof rubs your right arm as she gives you a concerned look. >"I asked what you were thinking about, my love. You've been very quiet these past few days." >The little excursion you and Chad embarked upon has not been sitting well with you. You want to tell Z about it, but you don't know how she'll react. With the exception of her dreams, Zooma has been hesitant to discuss her past in depth, always getting misty-eyed and changing the subject whenever the discussion ventured there. >*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* >Both you and your mare jump in your seats a little. >"Now who could that be?" Zooma kisses your cheek before trotting a serpentine path to the door. You see her peer around the door frame. "Hello?" >She stands there for a few seconds, waiting for a response. >"Strange," she says, closing the door. >Zooma is halfway back to the table when the knocking repeats. Five knocks this time. Your mare freezes mid-step, wings half-extended. >After holding an index finger to your lips, you rise from the table and jog to the front door- your sock-muffled feet undoubtedly quieter on the hardwood floor than Zooma's hooves.

>>6997 >The cold evening air is a bit of a shock without your jacket, but you venture onto the front porch all the same. Zooma joins you in scanning the neighborhood for potential visitors. Her wing wraps around your waist, then your hand rests on her withers, ready to guide her along the sidewalk to the driveway. >Again, there's nothing noteworthy from your new vantage point next to your car. A growl of frustration escapes you. >"Let it go, darling," Zooma says, rubbing her head against your chest. "It was probably just a little one playing a harmless prank." >You look around the street again. "Awfully fast kid, dontcha think?" >"You want to know what I think?" Zooma gives you a coy smile, then rises to drape her forelegs on your left shoulder. "I think I want to go inside, finish our dinner, do the dishes, and then try on the lingerie that I bought last week." "You ordered lingerie?" >Zooma kisses your neck. "Oh yes. It was delivered when you were still at work this afternoon. Black stockings, a garter belt, panties, and one more thing-" >She nibbles on your ear, one of the sure-fire ways to get your motor running, as she's learned. The hairs on your arms stand on end when she whispers her final words. >"-a bridle." >And just like that, you could care less about whoever was fucking with your door. "How 'bout we skip dinner and cleaning and get straight to seeing how all that fits you?" >Zooma returns to all four hooves, then swats your backside with her tail. She struts away from you- slow enough to move straight on her own- wings unfurled; hips swaying with every step. Her tail swings just enough to make your heart skip a beat, yet leave you hungry for more. >Your mare stops, looks back at you with bedroom eyes and says, "Then you better get back inside the house, Mister, before I change my mind." ... >Another Friday, another morning run around the lake. >Zooma didn't join you this time, as nightmares plagued her sleep last night. >Something catches your eye as you round the bend on the lake's furthest shore from the parking lot- a pony. >Slowing to a walk, you catch an orange tail slip into a dark copse of trees some fifty meters away. "Spitfire?" >Silence. >Was that really her? >Curiosity compels you to investigate. >These woods have always been here, though you've never paid them any mind. Now, losing sight of the lake whilst venturing deeper into the trees, you begin to appreciate just how big this wooded area is. >Thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump. >Spinning around, you only catch a flash of orange dart behind a boulder that's nestled between a wide blue spruce and a towering lodgepole pine. "Alright, Spitfire," you say after a quiet chuckle, "I saw ya. Come on out now." >Making your way behind the boulder, you're vexed at a distinct lack of little fire pony. >Wait a minute. There were tons of geese by the lake trail today, and you've never seen Spitfire *not* pursue them with extreme prejudice.

>>6998 >Wings flap behind you; large wings. >*Thump* >You can feel the impact of whatever landed behind you through the ground. "Uh, Spitfire?" you ask whilst turning around slowly. >That's not a little fire pony. >That's a big fire pony. She's taller than your Zooma by at least a head, and she does not look happy. "Um, hi," you begin with a sheepish smile, "who are-" >Something picks you up off the ground and forces your back against the boulder. You struggle against invisible restraints that pin your arms and legs in an upright spread-eagle position. Fortunately, your head is unrestrained, so you take a good look at your adversary. >White fur, orange-tinged wings, mane and tail colors reminiscent of Spitfire's (though her mane is much longer), but the head is the most interesting part of this mare. Sitting above her intense purple eyes, between her ears, is not one, but two, horns. They're long, similar in size, shape, and orientation to a baphomet's, only they're white like the rest of her body. Also of note is how the air shimmers around said horns. >"Where is she?" the mysterious mare asks. "Where is Zooma?" "How do you-" >"I know you are her mate, human." she snarls, exposing a set of fangs. "And if I know, it's only a matter of time before *they* know too, assuming they haven't figured it out already!" >The air surrounding the mare's horns ceases to shimmer, and next thing you know, you're falling back to earth. >"How long has she been with you?" she asks as you scramble to your full height. "About ten months. Why?" >"Have the nightmares started yet?" "Wait. How did you know-" >"That's a 'yes', then." she interrupts. "What about the migraines, have they started as well?" "Hang on a minute lady." You cross your arms. "If you think I'm about about to discuss my better half's medical history with some strange mare, you've got another-" >When the invisible force moves you again, it brings your face mere centimeters away from the growling mare's toothy maw. >"I don't have time for this! Answer my questions!" "Or else what?" >The mare looks like she's been slapped. Many miles away, Chad smiles to himself and nods. >"I- I'm trying to help her!" "Why? What's it to you?" >She doesn't reply, choosing to look around instead; ears swiveling. >"Did anyone see you enter the woods?" >You shrug. She sighs. >"It was fortunate that you and that big brute visited the compound when you did. Otherwise I wouldn't have heard you speak Zooma's name... and I wouldn't have discovered what happened to her." "That was YOU on the roof!?" >"Quiet!" she hisses, her ears flattening, before continuing to whisper-shout at you. "Yes, that was me! I followed you out of the city from the air and have been watching you ever since." "So that knocking on our front door the other night..." >"Yes." "Again, why? Who is Zooma to you? Why do you want to 'help' her? What does she even need help with?" >"Do you love her?"

>>6999 "Of course I do! I love that mare with every fiber of my being!" you answer without hesitation. >This earns you a smile from the stranger. It's genuine. "You said you wanted to help... said something about migraines?" >The mare frowns. "If they haven't started yet, you may not have to worry about them at all. That would be good. Very, very good." "And if she does start having them?" >"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." "That doesn't-" >"Shh!" >Once again, her ears swivel about. Her eyes dart left-to-right several times. >"I must go. You didn't see me. Tell nopony about what happened here, especially Zooma... and stay away from the c-compound!" >She trots a few paces away, then looks back to you. >"Take care of my little sister, Anonymous. I'll be watching." ... Wasn't planning on pulling Zooma off the shelf, but I missed her so much that it hurt. Same with Condense. Updated paste: https://ponepaste.org/5304#1036 Inspiration for Zooma's lingerie: https://twibooru.org/637280

>>7000 Very nice to see some more of this. Good stuff. Also 7k checked

>>6993 >the man in the suit with no face My god, it's him! Anonymous. >>7000 Sounds to me like the government doesn't want us knowing where the pony factory is. A bit out of the loop on this story, but seems interesting.

>>6956 kek

>>7013 This kills the mare.

>>7010 Zooma's great, but a tl;dr Anon found her at the pony factory boxed up and discarded, as a failed product. She instantly befriended him when he was empathetic and they started living together. She's self-conscious due to her off-colors but has a big heart and knows what she wants. VirignAnon is supported by her and ChadAnon.

>>7013 very nice art anon, did you draw it?

>>7013 Star looks very cute, though those gashes look pretty serious.

>>7016 That I did, been a /bootleg/ drawfag since the early days of the gen, and while i might not be able to get to draw every day you can leave a request if you want. >>7017 Heh. I actually toned it down a bit, even with all the blood in the green I figured that bloodstains on Anons loveseat might be too much.

>>6920 >Before any of your senses become aware of anything else, you feel something prodding at your back. >It takes a lot of effort just to reach back with your arm and shoo away whatever is trying to disturb you. >"Get up, you lazy shit," you hear Midnight mumble quietly. "No." >The intruding limb returns, this time between your shoulder blades for a few seconds. >Still too slow to catch it - not to mention in an awkward position to reach. "Twenty more minutes." >"You said 'five more minutes' about ten minutes ago." "Changed my mind. Goodnight." >This time, you feel Midnight's hoof on the back of your head. >Gentle, but firmly goading you to get out of bed. >With no warning, you whip around to face her. >Midnight hasn't gotten out of bed either. >She lays about a foot from you, sporting her traditional bedhead style. "You shouldn't be throwing stones if you live in a glass house." >"Why am I going to get out of bed if you're going to just lay here?" "What if I started poking you while you were trying to sleep?" >"You would go to sleep and never wake up again." "Well, that's not sleep, now is it?" >"You're awake now. Shut up and get out of bed." "You first." >"No, I've been waiting on you." "Sucks to suck, I guess." >Midnight frowns as she raises her head off of her pillow. >In a swift movement, she grabs it with her teeth and throws it atop your head, transforming the sunlit bedroom back into a pitch-black abyss. "Aww, thanks, dear. Much easier to sleep this way." >You hear her snort as the bed shifts under her movements. >"You're about fucking insufferable when it comes to the mornings," she chides, followed by a thump as hooves meet the thin carpeting that covers the floor. "Blame the person that invented mornings, not me," you groan, tossing aside the pillow over your head to reluctantly greet a new day. >Okay, it isn't really that bad. >But it's more fun to fuck around with Midnight. >"I don't think anyone invented mornings, Anon," she laments, whipping her head back and forth in a half-assed attempt to fix her hair. >It improves marginally. >Sorta. "So you mean to tell me mornings were just... always mornings? That doesn't make sense." >You strain to keep a serious face. >"You're going to make the next few days a pain in the ass, aren't you?" "Now why would you say such a thing?" >She can't help but smirk as she goes wide-eyed. >"Well, gee, I dunno," she says in a mocking tone. "Maybe because at the end of the week, we're closing the doors to walk-ins and self-service. Does that ring a bell?" "I could do without the attitude." >"I think you would rather have it." >Midnight takes a look at herself in the mirror on the bedroom door. >"Holy shit - why do I always look like hell in the morning? I never had this problem on the couch, out in the van..." "You probably roll around, snuggle in, relax - sleeping okay?" >You get on your feet and shuffle over to her, helping her out with her hair.

>>7037 >Midnight's power levitates a brush purchased just for her off of the top of your dresser while you make do with your fingers, straightening out some of the tangles. >"You should consider getting another brush." "This is more satisfying for me," you reply with a grin. >Even Midnight is sporting a smile, despite her recommendations. >While you won't get it as smooth as a brush, it at least speeds things along. >Even though she really doesn't take that long to begin with. >"You just like playing with my hair, don't you?" "No, I'm trying to help," you whine in protest. >"Maybe *you're* the reason my hair gets all fucked up," she accuses, pouting at you through the mirror. >You really aren't - but part of you wants to see where leading her on and teasing her will lead. >Maybe another day. "You never did answer my question, Middie - you sleeping okay?" >"I think so. Sleeping more than I traditionally have in the past." "Probably because you're sleeping on something comfortable and not having to worry about coyotes." >That gets a glare out of her as she turns away from the mirror. >"Bitch, please. I never feared coyotes out in the yard - those flea-bitten fucks feared *me!*" "Not even in the beginning?" >Her gaze softens as she returns to the mirror, finishing up the last few strokes that lead all the way down her mane >"I was cautious in the beginning. Never scared, Anon," she huffs. "May I remind you, I had no idea what they were or what they were capable of - but they're pussies." "Actually, they're canines." >Midnight turns to you, with a look of utter disdain. >"That's enough out of you this morning, chucklefuck," she says, rapping you on the head with the back of her hairbrush before it gets tossed back onto your dresser. "Oh, alright. I'm going to assume you want me to make breakfast." >"Honestly, I'm not that hungry - knock yourself out, I'll just do some jerky." "Hell, if you're gonna make it a quick meal, I guess I will, too," you concede, opening the bedroom door and following Midnight into the kitchen. >"You getting dressed at some point, or are you wearing boxer shorts and a wife-beater all day?" she asks, pausing to turn and face you. >You look down at your aforementioned attire, then back at Midnight. "I do look pretty damn fine, don't I?" >"You look like someone planning to put a really stupid suspension setup on a 4x4." >The comparison makes you instantly head back into your room. "You win." >"I thought you might see things my way," she calls after you with an air of cockiness. "Shut up and eat your damn jerky!" you holler back while rummaging through your dresser for clothes. >"Aww, someone sounds like a bitter little baby." >By the time you get some proper clothes on and head out to the kitchen, Midnight is already mowing down a bag of peppered beef jerky. >Meanwhile, the space opposite her on the table already has a bowl sat out, as well as some off-brand peanut butter crunch cereal. "Well look at you go. Thanks."

>>7038 >"I figure you're at least attempting to look more presentable, I could at least put forth a token effort. Jerky?" >The bag hovers over to you. "Uh, I'll pass. Jerky isn't breakfast food, you weirdo." >"Oh, but pizza is?" she sasses. "Yeah. Now I kinda wish I had cold pizza for breakfast - thanks for that," you dish back to her. >"Just eat your damn cereal." >You oblige her command, pouring yourself a bowl and digging the milk out of the fridge. "I don't suppose you already took a gander at any new orders, have you?" you ask, pointing your spoon at the laptop set aside on the counter. >Midnight shakes her head. >"Those orders will still be there in an hour." "Starting to sound like me, Middie. Careful - that's a slippery slope." >"The difference between me and you is I will check it in an hour," she taunts, sticking her tongue out at you in defiance. >While you like giving her shit, the fact that she's not so anal about checking every little detail every minute of the day is a surprising change. >Maybe she's finally figuring out how to calm her mind. >"By the way, you know we should put up a sign somewhere out front or on the building that we don't do walk-ins or self-serve anymore after this week. Also, we need to finish pulling that transmission crossmember off of that Malibu that you had a hissy fit with and gave up on." >Alright, maybe it's calmed a little bit. "We'll get it. Promise. But I'm thinking we ought to set you up with a toolbag." >"I wouldn't be opposed to that," she says, her eyes betraying the excitement she is attempting to hide. "Two of us with separate lists could cover more ground." >"My thoughts exactly - at least when it's a bunch of simple little shit. Otherwise, it's you and me together." >"That sounds a lot nicer than it did a month ago," she muses. "Oh, what part?" you ask knowingly. >"Your cereal is going to get mushy if you don't eat it," she replies, pointing at your bowl. "Fine, mom. Geez." >Both of you finish up breakfast in relative silence, merely exchanging glances once in a while. >"You wanna do another fire out back tonight?" she asks as you finish up. >The inquiry gets a bit of laughter out of you as you go to rinse out your bowl. "Sounds good to me." -----

>>7039 I love you Auto. No homo.

>>7039 >ywn have a cute tsundere poner lovingly harass you in the morning to get out of bed together Thanks for reminding me that I'll never get to experience that kind of feel, Auto. Very cool. Good update.

>>7039 Sounds like Anon is enjoying his morning with Middie. Thanks for the update. >>7033 You make some nice art.

>>7033 That's some quality drawing anon i like the lighting, very moody >>7039 Great work as usual Auto, bedhead Middie a cute

>>7042 >ywn brush your loving mare's mane as you enjoy the first rays of morning sun together

>You are Anon. >Today is Friday, Friday morning, to be exact. >You stand in front of the mirror, inspecting your face yet again to admire your handiwork- having shaved your jungle of a beard due to company hygiene policies, since you’ll be on company property later today. >Looking more like the photo on your ID and less of a hobo would probably be helpful as well. >You breathe a heavy sigh. >Rosie’s been having nightmares all week, and they only seem to be getting more intense. She hasn’t been thrashing around as much but she’s begun muttering in her sleep, even woken up screaming once. >To say that the rising feeling of urgency was making you wish that you could end this day faster would be an understatement. But taking off now would likely make you look suspicious, given you never take time off. >Glancing at your watch, you guess it’s time to check on Rosie to see if she’s awake yet. You take a generous handful of gel and slick your hair back, washing the remainder of it off before reaching for the door. >Soon as you open the door though, she’s already standing there. >Her head raises to look at you, causing her messy mane to cover one of her eyes. They look distant and glassy. >Those wine-colored eyes of hers suddenly focus on you and she simply says, “Am I still asleep?” In an attempt to lift her mood you give a half-smirk and respond, “A quick shave and I’m dreamy now? If only I’d have known sooner it’d be that easy.” >Her expression is unmoving as you silently kick yourself. “I am not in the mood for jests or gibes, Anon.” Your smirk drops, “Nightmare again?” >She gives a slow nod followed by, “M-hm.” “Hopefully they can do something about them at wherever this address takes us,” you sigh, “I guess you want to take a bath so I’ll get out of your way.” >“Thank you.” You maneuver around her as she steps in, then close the door behind her, “I’ll leave you to it then, gonna get breakfast cooking and start up a show for you in the meantime.” >A muffled, “Okay,” comes from the other side of the door. >Luckily you managed to rig up something so that she could draw up the bath herself; you’ve slowly been making the house more “pony-friendly” over the course of this week. Little things like changing out the handles on the doors so that she can press down on them to open them. >As much as you hate leaving Rosie alone in case something happens again, you’re sure she appreciates you not having to do everything for her. >Scanning your library of DVDs, you stop on one of your old favorites and pop the disc in for her. >You head into the kitchen and set some water to boil as the previews play, oatmeal’s quick and easy and Rosie seems to like it. Maple and brown sugar for you, apples and cinnamon for Rosie. >Girl seems to have a real sweet tooth, hell, seems like the only time you can get her to smile is if you give her something sweet. >Another sigh escapes your lips as you set the two bowls out to cool, you should probably treat her to something after you leave wherever that address leads to; maybe IHOP or Waffle House? >Speaking of which, you should probably look the address up. >Taking the paper off of the island, you type the address into your phone. It brings up what looks like a factory of some kind, clearly too big for it to have been built recently. “Great, right on the edge of the opposite side of the metropolitan I’m on,” you groan, “That’s gonna complicate things.” >It’s gonna add upwards of one to two hours to your travel time depending on how bad traffic is. >Before you can get more annoyed than you already were, you hear your name being called; Rosie must be done with her bath. >You slide your phone back into your pocket and go back to the bathroom door, then knock once. >“You can come in.” >She managed to shake off most of the water, given the amount of water all over your bathroom, though doing so has left her mane and tail a mess. >All this prep you’ve done and you didn’t even think of buying a brush; guess you’ll have to use one of your combs and hope for the best.

>>7122 >Pulling one off the counter, you get to work trying to get her mane in order. >You remember how you’ve seen it done and mimic the movements as best as you can; hand, then brush. >Rosie doesn’t say anything, all she does is close her eyes and lean into your movements, like putty in your hands. >Eventually her mane is straightened back out, and you move to her side so you can start on her tail. >You don’t run your hand through it as much as you did with her mane, lest you accidentally have your hand brush up against something it shouldn’t. >The bruise from a unconscious kick was just starting to fade, you don’t want to learn what happens to your ribs when a full-force buck with murderous intent makes contact with it. >It takes a bit longer, but your slow and deliberate brushing yields results, and no broken ribs. >As you stand up though, you notice something. “Your mark’s gone, maybe it was like one of those temporary tattoos you’d get as a kid.” >She twists to look at her flank, shortly after looking up at you, “Is that what you were taking so long with my tail? I never would have guessed you were the type to take interest in…what was it that you said? ‘Living technicolor horses’?” Your ears burn with embarrassment as you stammer out a response, “N-now hold on a minute…” >Her neutral expression gives way to a smirk as she suppresses a giggle, “Consider that payback for earlier.” >You breathe a sigh of relief and shake your head at letting her get one over on you. “Well let’s hurry up now, I gotta log in soon and I’m sure the oatmeal is almost cold at this point.” >She trots out to the living room and hops onto the couch as you go into the kitchen and retrieve her bowl for her before placing it down on the coffee table in front of her. >If it was cold she doesn’t say anything as she digs in while you start the show. >You get your bowl and return to your room, logging in after you sit down. “Well, at least she’s in a better mood now.” … >You log out of work; removing your work ID and putting it in your wallet, which you slide into your pocket. >Throwing on a jacket from the hanger mounted on the back of your door, you stop before you step into the living room. >You remember the few times that Rosie’s gone onto the back porch to ‘try and clear her thoughts’ and how she always comes back in shivering slightly, guess her fur doesn’t protect her as much as either of you thought. >Finally entering the living room you grab an old hoodie out of the closet; the weathered, grey, zip-up was a combination of too short and too wide for you to reasonably be able to wear it anymore but you never could bring yourself to throw it out. “Hey Rosie, could you come here for a second?” >She takes her attention off of the show to look at me, before hopping off the coach and trotting over. >“What is it that you need?” “It’s almost time for us to head out and it’s only gonna get colder; so I figured you could wear one of my old hoodies to try and keep warm.” >Her eyes give it a once over before she says, “Oh…thanks.” >She sits down and you kneel to get level with her before bringing the hoodie behind her over her shoulders. “Alright now put your leg through the sleeve.” >You snort at the sentence, it feels like a weird thing to say. >Though after a try or two she does manage to slip both of her legs into the sleeves. “How is it,” you ask. “Does it fit alright?” >She stands up and twists from one side to the other, then trots in a small circle. After stopping and twisting again, she flicks her tail before furrowing her brow. >“It sits wrong around my tail.” >You nod, should be a quick fix with a pair of scissors. After grabbing the pair off of your desk you position yourself behind Rosie to begin cutting. She stands still, presumably to make sure you don’t accidentally cut her tail. >Something’s been on your mind so now’s as good a time as any to bring it up. “If you don’t mind me asking, you seem a bit nonplussed about losing your mark. What’s with that?” >She cocks her head to the side and clos

>>7124 >Eventually she opens her mouth to speak, “I am not sure what to feel, in all honesty. Part of me feels as if it’s something that I should have, but I do not remember having one until waking up here.” >You nod while moving back in front of her, that makes enough sense to you. “Alright, how does it feel now?” >She looks at you puzzled before realizing you meant the hoodie. She does her twists and little trot again before replying with, “Good.” Tossing the scissors back where they were, you quickly grab your keys, “Good, because we’ve got to leave now if we want the best chance of avoiding the worst of traffic.” >The garage door opens and you let Rosie hop into your car before securing her seatbelt. >You follow suit soon after and start the engine, which causes Rosie to jump in her seat. A quick assurance puts her at ease. >You pull out of the garage and into the driveway, having the garage door shut behind you before pulling out into the street and taking a right out of the neighborhood. Soon you’re on the access road, then on the highway. >Only took you about 15 minutes, since you managed to get ahead of the kids getting out of school. >Once you reach the city, Rosie stares out of the window in silent wonder. >Right, Equestria was pre-industrial from what you remember, so she’s never seen anything like this before. Or well, at least you assume she’s supposed to be “from” Equestria. >You’ve been looking into the show to refresh your knowledge of it from when you watched it with G, and to see if the character Rosie was based on had something to do with her issues. Again, assuming she’s even based on someone from the show. >Either way, you haven’t had any luck in that department. You only ever got to the end of season two with him and you didn’t see anyone that looked like Rosie, and it wouldn’t make sense for G to send you a pony based on a character you’ve never seen before… >A gentle tap is felt against your elbow, rousing you from your thoughts. >“Are you well? You seemed to be lost in thought.” You reach over and run a hand through her mane, “Yeah, guess I was.” >She nods before turning to look out the window to city gaze again, a small smile forming on her face as she does so. …

The last sentence of the second post keeps getting cut off, it's supposed to say "She cocks her head to the side and closes her eyes in thought."

>>7125 >a new green Very nice.

>>7128 New part of another green because I am slow and lazy. https://ponepaste.org/4579 https://ponepaste.org/6081

>>7039 >"Stop dragging your feet." "I'll go slower if you're going to whine, how about that?" >You feel Midnight press her snout into your back between the shoulder blades, earnestly pushing you forward. >in addition, you feel the tip of her horn graze the back of your neck as she leans into you. "Hey, be careful there, rhino. I like my spinal cord. It does vital... spinal cord things." >"That's not my problem. Perhaps that's extra incentive to get a move on, hm?" "I will be your problem if I'm paralyzed from the neck down. Then you will have to do all the work." >"I already assume I'm going to be quicker than you and get more done." "Oh-ho, is that a challenge?" >"Nope, just speaking facts," she replies innocently. >With Midnight's assistance, you reach the junkyard gate, pulling one closed while Midnight gets the other half and meeting in the middle. >The clang and clatter of metal chain on chain link fence sends a message. >Closing time. >For the last time. >Well, for self-serve customers anyway. >With a click, you ceremoniously snap the weathered padlock closed within the links of the chain. >The sound is like a trigger for Midnight to let loose. >"Haha, that's it!" she shouts, trotting in place with excitement. "No more boring days of standing around doing nothing, no more being cooped up in the shop all day! Free roam over the whole yard and actually getting things done!" "Okay, that's not normal to actually *want* to work," you remind her. >"It's not normal to have the hots for someone outside your species, either," she retorts with a devious grin. "But here you are, fucking that up." "You know that comment puts you under the same blanket, right?" >Midnight halts her celebratory prancing. >"...just shut up and let me have my moment." >You smirk, but acquiesce with a nod and cross your arms, watching her prance around just a bit more before she calls it good. "Now, I have to give you your due - this is possible because of all the effort you put into turning this place around and shifting it into a more productive direction. So you do deserve to brag, at least a little. But thank you for the little show, as well." >"Well, you didn't have to go and make it all awkward now," she replies, averting her gaze. "Remember, I basically did it for myself." "Stop it, Middie. Take the compliment," you say, leaning over and smacking a kiss right on her nose. >"God, you're so sappy," she grumbles - albeit after returning with her own quick kiss to your lips. "It's either that or I turn up the stupid. I think that would be out of place." >"Well I'll be damned - you actually considered what would be most appropriate for the occasion?" >You shrug. "Even a retarded squirrel finds a nut every now and then." >Midnight freezes, considering your comment for a moment. >"Isn't it 'even a blind squirrel finds a-'" "Nope, we're sticking with retarded squirrel. Unless you're suddenly afraid of offending someone." >"I still call you retarded - what do you think?"

>>7147 "Crass and crude - it's why I like you," you reply, heading back toward the shop and beckoning Midnight to follow you with a wave. "Come on, we still gotta get shit done tonight." >"No procrastination because pulling parts will be our daily job? I'm legitimately surprised," Midnight says with a straight face. "Hell, I would not have been opposed to the idea, personally." >Well... >Normally you would have said fuck it, but there's something else to be accomplished tonight. >She trots to your side while you amble along toward the Trailduster. >It's a quiet walk - but you can practically feel Midnight studying you while you keep your gaze straight ahead. >Yeah, she knows something's up. "What did you want for dinner once we get done with orders? Something here, or done out?" you ask while opening the driver's door. >"I dunno. You seem like you already have a plan," she replies without hesitation. "Not for dinner, I don't." >You take a glance at her while she circles around to the other side of the SUV. >She's nerved up now. >That wasn't meant to happen. "You would rather I don't do surprises, huh?" >"I'm fine." "Liar." >"It scares me to think what your brain could come up with when left unoccupied," she retorts - a disguised confession. "You're fine. Come on, hop in." >You slide into your seat while Midnight opens her door and stares at her seat. >Well, what's *on* her seat. >A plain cardboard box greets her, an almost perfect cube a little more than a foot long on each side. >"The fuck is this?" "You can either ask me or open it, Middie. One option will be more satisfying than the other." >"Alright, what's in the box?" she snidely inquires with a grin. >You can't help but laugh at her remark, even though you want to see her reaction to the gift inside. >It's not much, but you know she will get a lot of use out of it. "Okay, wiseass. Get in here and open up the damn box before I throw it at you," you jokingly threaten while picking it up off of her seat. >"No you wouldn't," she says calmly, hopping up and closing the door behind her. "Because I'd be afraid of you tearing me limb from limb?" >"No - you wouldn't dare hurt this pretty face," she quickly replies, flicking her hair back with a quick motion of her head. "...I mean, I could just avoid your head and throw it at your body." >"Oh, shut up," she replies with a giggle as you hold the box between your seats. >While you pull open the flaps on either side, Midnight's electromagnetic ability lifts a large black bag out of the box by the metal grips affixed to the straps. >"What is-" Midnight sputters, her eyes fixated on the object - and you know the one specific point she's found. "Time to put your money where your mouth is. If you're gonna show me up by pulling more parts any given day, you're gonna need your own tools and toolbag, right?" >"And you thought this would be a good surprise?" she asks you in a flat tone. >You thought it was... >Maybe you made a mist-

>>7148 >Midnight practically leaps over the gap between the two of you, the movement making you drop the empty box before she crushes it. >Her forelegs snake their way around your body and squeeze you into a hug. >"How? Where?" she asks gleefully, hovering the bag to your line of vision where you can spy "Midnight" embroidered in subtle yet striking blue and violet threads. "Found a place online that did custom work, was able to arrange to buy this and have it shipped to em to get the threads done. I take it you actually approve of the gift?" >"I love it! But don't tell me you spent a fortune on all of this," she says somewhat concerned as she gently shakes it. >The light metallic clink of tools within reassures her it's already set up for use. "Which part? The bag or the tools?" >You get a stern look in response. >"Yes." "I gave you some good hand-me-down tools rather than buy some brand new Chinese crap that will break after the first use. Went through all of my shit between what's in here and what I had in the shop - you're set for virtually any hand tool you need to fetch shit when I'm working on something else. The bag was reasonable." >"Thank you, Anon," she mumbles, sounding almost as if she's on the verge of tears. >Happy tears, but nonetheless, you can't bear to see such a pretty mare cry. "Think nothing of it, Middie," you reply, putting your arms around her and kissing her on the head, minding her horn. "But do you still want to blow off tonight and get after it starting bright and early Monday morning?" >"Are you high? After surprising me with this?!" she cries in exasperation, returning to her seat quickly to show her wide-eyed, incredulous expression. "I thought you might end up seeing things my way," you reply with a chuckle, starting up the truck. >"When did you do all of this?" >You shrug "I've been sitting on the bag for a few days. Sorting through my tools has been an on-and-off project when I have had time and you've been preoccupied. I don't want you thinking I'm trying to be productive after all. You might start expecting that from me." >Midnight gives you a playful shove at that last line. >"Now I know you can do things like this when you set your mind to em, so you dug your own grave." "Ah fuck. Here, give that back," you demand, frantically grabbing for the toolbag. >"Nope, fuck you," she says with a blep of her tongue. "Fiiine," you give in with a sigh as you crank over the engine of the Trailduster. "In all seriousness - what did you want for dinner tonight?" >"Well, it's sort of a special occasion, isn't it?" she asks, batting her eyes at you. "You've teased me long enough with the idea of barbeque over an open fire - time for *you* to put your money where your mouth is." "Now, are you saying that because that's what you want, or you spied the chicken breasts I already prepared in the back of the fridge?" >"Both." "Fair enough." >Whether it's her excitement or yours, you eagerly set off into the yard with a quick shot at the throttle. -----

>>7149 How is it that Middie consistently manages to only become cuter and more precious as time goes on? Fun update. Glad to see you around and posting again, Auto.

>>7129 Why would you split the green up to seperate pastes when they're both just 2-3k words?

>>7158 Because I'm stupid and take forever to write things. I have thought about merging part 1 and 2 though.

>>7149 Happy Middie. I'm sure she'll be putting her new gift to good use. Would love to see her celebratory dance. Thanks for the update, always makes me happy to see a new one.

Any stompychads on nhnb?

>>7174 Not super familiar, but that's one cute poner.

>>7149 aarg my heart! Auto, have mercy middie's too sweet.

>>7165 Update: I've merged them and have added everything so far. https://ponepaste.org/4579

>>6948 >You fidget in your chair >This already feels awkward >You had the passing thought of turning on the TV but that might make things even more awkward >You wouldn't want him to go "huh?" "Hey dad. Sorry I... uh. I haven't been talking to you much, lately." >You're in front of everyone but your focus is on him >You sit for a few minutes >You can't think of anything to say >Or is it more you just dread hearing your voice "I'm... your house. It's doing well. I, uh. I went up to the bathroom upstairs. To grab some towels. I didn't know you had a pile up there ready to be washed." >You go silent again >The entire living room is sickeningly silent "That... ah... girl." >He would probably laugh if you said it was a technicolor talking pony "She's doing better now. A lot better. I'm kinda worried that there might be a scar. But she's alright. Who did that to her, if it was who I was told. I haven't seen her any. I'm not sure if you should be worried." >You run your hand through your hair and clear your throat "She likes your recipe. I know it's as basic as can be-you know that-but she really says she loves it. She says it took 'like, mad skillz'. With a Z at the end, you see." >You can imagine his face >It's as incredulous as your tone "I... guess she's staying here for a while longer. I really don't know what to do with her though. I mean I don't..." >Your eyes fall to the floor "What am I doing, man? I go to work, I come back home. I look around and all I see is how you were around. How everyone used to interact and bitch and moan and complain about who's watching what and who's going to do the dishes." >The back of your shoulders feel heavy "I feel bad for even going up stairs. I haven't been in my room in... what, how many years was it? Hell, I haven't even been in your room." >He would probably not say anything and let you continue your rant "This is supposed to be your house, not mine. I just..." >Grew up here? "Lived here. I set up my room how I wanted and that was really just it. And now..." >Should you really keep talking? >Stray thoughts are one thing >Instinctual behaviors are another >But you hate hearing your voice affirm all of this "Everything is just as you left it. If I go up there I'll probably find some mug of what was once coffee. What do I do with your clothes? Your bed?" >No answer >Of course "I can't just give it away. It's yours. You worked for it all. Well, you know, except for those shitty shirts you said you bought when I was a kid for two bucks each at a flea market." >The man didn't speak a lick of Spanish yet he had the most flamboyant shirts that all said Feliz Jueves >Your questions and commentary go unheard >There's no response >No guidance >No answer

>>7226 "You never prepared me for this. You didn't prepare me for everyone else either but you didn't prepare me for you going too. You were supposed to be some rickety old mummy by the time I reached your age. Bickering about your grandkids going outside and back inside too many times and letting the AC out." >You can feel the pressure build behind your eyes >You blink it away but the bottom of your vision is still blurry in one eye >You've had as much as you could now >You stand up and push the chair back >This was a dumb way to waste a half hour >It really was >You head to the kitchen and grab a drink from the fridge >A sarsaparilla >You may as well drink fancy soda if you're drinking soda >You give yourself a few minutes to focus your breathing and to clear your eyes, if not your head >With a hard sigh you give yourself a hard shake and head downstairs >You can hear the TV going >And audio from your laptop >Starsky is apparently pretty good at pecking the keys with her hooves "'Sup, shortstack." >"Suuuuh, bro." >Starsky looks like she recently got up "How's your side feeling?" >She glances up at you for only a moment before going back to the laptop >It sounds like some funky music is her cup of tea >"Well, you know how they say that jokes are a real side-splitter? It wasn't that funny but it ain't so split anymore." >You did ask her that at least twice today already >She's been getting up by herself, both for bathroom and for taking a shower "Sorry if the stairs are still kinda tough. I didn't really think about how you might be wounded and effectively trapped down here." >"Mr. A, you could feed me nothing but eggs and I would probably be fine with it." >You shrug and tilt your bottle at her "Yeah well you would have to eat all of them anyway." >When she takes the laptop... >You are so astonishingly bored >You know you have a few consoles in your room >But that involves going to your room >No matter how bored you are, you can't just walk in there like it's yours >"How about you, Mr. A? We have a guest or something upstairs? Heard ya talking a bit." >Of course she did "Ah... nah. Wrong number. I guess." >The passing thought that he didn't even hear you drains the life from your body >Your eyes wander from the TV to your little medical kit >You've gone through a shit ton of gauze pads and medical tape >A lot of ointment too >But she really doesn't need that much care anymore >She promises she's fine but you still have her side wrapped up >Every day you see less and less red when you re-dress her >But the skin could still break >An infection could still happen >She's not 100% yet >Maybe 85% >"Hey, mind if I ask you something? Since I'm, you know, lucid and alive and not gimping it up anymore." "Go for it." >She shifts her focus from the laptop screen to you >"You... ever seen Lizz when you go up topside to the spooky world above?"

>>7227 >It has been a few weeks >You haven't once seen her >Rain has come and gone so any signs of blood in the alleyway has been long washed away >You haven't even really seen any of the lights come on in the house she supposedly occupies "Nah... not once. I don't think she'd have a reason to seek me out anyway." >"Oh... any... fliers? Bulletin board stuff? My face on a milk carton?" "I normally get the plastic jugs so maybe. I just haven't seen it yet." >You don't look at her directly but even out of your peripheral vision you can tell how much that bugs her >"...I guess she hasn't gotten around to it yet then." "Yeah..." >You take a swig from your drink >Delicious carbonation that isn't even all that aggressively bubbly "But... you know how I am. I go outside, I tend to focus on my stuff. I probably just haven't been paying enough attention. So you probably got some stuff out there." >Your words don't help >You aren't so sure it isn't a lie >But you can see her smile >It's a consolation prize smile >"Yeah... probably. Thanks for checking anyway." >You hear keyboard clacking start up again >After a few minutes you lean over >How in the world is she typing like that >You can see that she's angled her legs up and is using the back and bottom of her hooves to type >It makes sense, given how she's laying >She slowly shifts her focus to you while her typing slows >"...penny for your thoughts, Mr. A?" >You shake your head and blink "How did you learn to type? Those keyboards aren't so big, and they're kinda not great for feedback." >She grins at your question >"Well how did YOU learn to type?" "...well, school. Mostly. Sorta." >You're not really following on this >She nods you over >You climb out of the couch and kneel down next to her, resting your drink on the loveseat arm >She's writing a pretty big email >"I kinda learned in school since Lizz used to take me to school. And... you know. Who doesn't know how to work a computer in this day and age?" "That's fair." >"Super. I even have my own email account. All of that junk, I'm sending to a friend." >Not Lizzy, hopefully >As if she can read your mind, she scoffs >"Don't worry dude, I got other friends. This one here? Works at, like, a market for farmers." "A Farmers Market?" >"No man, it's not like, a corporate thing. It's just where a lot of farmers and garden guys with green thumbs sell their stuff for pretty cheap." "Right, a..." >You don't finish that thought "Well, that's kinda cool. How'd you meet?" >"Oh man, I thought you'd never ask." >The gentle croon of her voice picks up in tone >"So, dig it, Lizz and I-see, I know proper English too-used to help out at a lot of really local things. She was actually part of that FFA group in highschool. Except she tried making me a show pony." >You could see that

>>7228 >"So that didn't work, but man, you wouldn't believe it, but this Huckleberry girl had a pony too! Not like... the tall kind? But the talking kind." "So Mr. Ed." >"No, but did you know his name was Bamboo-something?" >You get the feeling that you're treading on dangerous territory when it comes to matching wits with her "...no?" >"But no, she's cool. I call her Ms. H. She's kinda older than me by a bit so, you know, respect given and all that." "What does the H stand for?" >"It's just an old joke. But the name stuck." "That doesn't really clear it up. Wait, do you think I'm old?" >She turns her head and gives you a sly smile >"Dude, I can look at you. You don't have any wrinkles but I know you've lived more than a couple of my lifetimes. I'd be crazy to not recognize that sort of thing." >That... >Kinda stings >It's not like you've done a lot of particularly hard living >Not really "That's rough, man." >"Sh'yeah, tell me about it." >After a little more typing, she stops >"So! Anyway, Ms. H and I go wayyyy back. And she and her family have this farm like, a few hours out of town and twice a month they go out and sell their stuff. Since we're tight like tank tops on action movie heroes, I asked if she could kinda help me find a way to make it up to you. I'm not just a lump, you know? You keep me around and you know I'll make it worth the trouble." >Do you want to say that she isn't any trouble? >She isn't not any trouble >Kinda >If only because of her having spent the last two weeks or so teaching her body to stop bleeding whenever she moves more than an inch >Your hesitation in a rebuttal is enough for her >"And don't worry, I'll help pay you back personally... but a little gift basket or two would help sweeten the deal, right?" >Her smirk says all >"Easier to stay warm and stuff when you got a big, fuzzy pony on you, right?" >You break through her rhythm with your own point to focus on "Oh yeah. Speaking of, are you wanting your mane and tail cut?" >She seems caught off-guard that you didn't react the way she wanted you to >"Huh? Why, do you like short manes?" "Well it's less about me liking it and more about making sure you can keep it cleaner easier. You can do whatever style but it would be good to not have to worry about what it gets dragged over and collects, right?" >Her expression melts into a more embarrassed variation >"...well when you put it that way." >She shrugs her worry away >"Sure. I think I'd be ok with you grooming me. As long as you keep me after." >You think you're starting to catch onto her subtext "Yeah-huh. Well tomorrow lets use those shears in my bag and get to snipping." >"Sounds good to me, man." >Glad that's settled >After a few moments of mutual silence, she speaks up again >"...hey, Anon. Joking aside, after I finish this email. Can we hang out and stuff on the couch? I know this ain't a hospital but I'm kinda struggling a little here to keep happy-like." >... >Oh what the hell, why not "Sure."

>>7229 >another pony has claimed Anon's laptop I'm noticing a trend in this thread ^:) Thanks for the update. I wonder what those two will get up to when Star is all better.

>>7229 >Biscuits in the morning >Some leftover chicken breasts for lunch/dinner >A few coffee cakes for snakes in between and after >Napping >Some YouTube videos that, for the most part, you didn't choose >Not bad for a Sunday >All throughout it, Starsky had stuck to you like glue >She can go up and down the stairs but she's not as fast as she used to be >You've slowed your pace too to stick with her, though she jokes at you for "going easy" on her >It's nice >It really is >You don't feel alone when she's nearby >Even when neither of you have all that much to say to one another, she's comfortable to lean against you >Due to how the couch has marshmallow cushions with amazing melting action, when both of you lay across the couch she ends sandwiched between your front and the front of the cushions >It acts as a good headrest for her >You have also learned that she has some sort of bone at the base of her tail >And she >... >Has been using it to nudge against you >In ways >And no matter how much you want to, you can't poke her wound to make her stop >That would be a little too mean >So instead you've been mostly putting up with it >Mostly >"Hey, Mr. A." >The gentle, chill voice wakes you up out of your quarter-sleeping stupor "Hm? Sup?" >"I know you kinda got your thing about the house..." >You suppose that is an understatement >"Why don't you... like, keep the TV on in the living room or something?" "Why would I do that?" >Though neither of you have been paying attention to it, the TV has been on too >More providing white noise than anything else >"Well, kinda like how we have it down here. But up there." >She inhales and nuzzles the couch cushion >"It's kinda spooky, man... this is your home, isn't it? Live in it a little. At least so when you go upstairs it doesn't feel like..." >Her voice trails off >Your own words fill the blank >A crypt? >Maybe that's a little too rough >Too true "I've thought about it. But my old man... dad. He liked watching different stuff at different times. If I put it on just one channel it would feel weird." >"Why not... like, program it? Have it switch to a channel at a time, kinda set it up the way you know he likes it." >You don't immediately answer >Would that be a good idea? >"...Iiiii may have kinda overheard you talking to him. Maybe he'll find a way to thank you if you do him a solid?" >Crap >You feel even more embarrassed for the failure of a talk you had yesterday >You didn't think your voice would somehow carry that far "...you really think so?" >"Totally, dude. If I..." >She trails off >She makes some sort of noise of disapproval >"...I mean if you wanted to remember me. I would be cool with just listening to AVGN and cat videos." >You can see her shrink and sink into the cushion, as if it could hide her >Best you can do is bounce off of her as she does to you >Verbally, this time "Cat videos, huh? You a cat type of girl?"

>>7249 >"Totally. One of Lizzy's friends used to have a cat. She slept on me every time we went over." >She inhales and nods to herself >"Those were the days. Kinda awkward to feed her because, you know, hooves... but I'll be honest? Those tuna surprise treats were the bomb." >That causes a laugh "That so? I could see you swiping treats from a cat." >"You got it all wrong, Mr. A!" >She rolls her head back to see you >Upside down but see you she still can "Yeah?" >"Yeah. We shared." >You scoff and press your hand against her face >She giggles "So you telling me you'd meow and that I need to stock up on tuna?" >She inhaled with a grin >"Hmmm...." >She rolls her head back up to look you in the eye >"Mmmmroooow... Mr. A." >Her meow comes out as a throaty mewl >The longer you stay silent, the more her lips curl into a sly smile >You won't lie >That sent shivers down your spine >And such >You pet the side of her neck "...alright. Yeah. Yup." >You clear your throat to try to steady your breathing >Were you holding your breath? "That's the good stuff." >"Heheh~ Mr. A likes 'em furry and flexible, huh..." "I will have you know it is past midnight." >"Which means we better cuddle up." "And get ready to go to sleep." >"But you know what they say about going to sleep stiff. Right, Mr. A?" >You can feel her tailbone wag, along with a good section of her tail "I." >Good lord, let there be an armed robber to break in and give you a reason to get up >"Don't mind me, Mr. A♫ Getting super duper comfy before I hit the hay♫" >Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name >"Gettin' comfy for bed♫ Gotta deal with Mr. A's big head♫" >THY KINGDOM COME

>>7250 oh boy..

>>7233 >I'm noticing a trend in this thread ^:) Heh you aren't wrong, bootlegs on the internet is a thing one way or another they might find their way on if you don't put on kids locks

>>7250 She is a persistent poner. I guess we'll see how long Anon holds out. I also wonder if Star is going to help Anon reclaim the rest of the house. While hiding out in the basement with a poner sounds super comfy, probably good for Anon to feel more comfortable in the rest of the place. Thanks for the update.

>>7149 >The blank screen of your laptop suddenly flashes into color, showing a quaint room whose walls are splashed in a rich burgundy hue, this wood paneling on the lower half of what you can see. >Front and center, a familiar creamy-white unicorn with an eager and welcoming smile is the real focus. >"Hi Midnight!" Starla cheerfully greets you, waving a hoof. >It's the first time you've seen her since your initial meeting. >Too long, you have to admit. >It was Anon's idea with Teddy's help to get you two connected via video chat on the computer. >You didn't know such a thing was possible. >Initially, you were a bit aversive to the idea. >Why? >... >You don't really have a reason. >Nerves, maybe. >Nonetheless, you're glad he actually went through with it, after putting some thought behind it. >She certainly was helpful to sort out your feelings regarding Anon, even though you put her in an uncomfortable situation >And it is nice to have someone to relate to. "Hi, Starla. Been a little while, huh?" >Starla nods her head, her gold and orange braid bobbing off of her right side. >"Too long! I've been asking Teddy about you, wondering how you are," she replies with an exuberance that is much more than you're used to experiencing. " But you look like you're doing well - and I see you have your hair braided again!" "Yeah, I did it a day or two ago," you reply, flipping it with a quick motion of your head. >"Any special occasion?" "No, just kinda... wanted to change it up a bit, you know?" >"I'm happy to hear you're trying different styles. What does Anon think of it?" >It seems like an innocent enough question... >But at the same time, it feels like she's looking at a deeper meaning. "He doesn't get a say in it, I do what I want." >Starla snorts at the sharp remark. >"Of course - it was more of curiosity than anything. Don't take it to heart," she says. "But what's going on with you?" "Not too much. We finally got the junkyard squared away and everything set up to switch to online and part pickup only. So that's a relief." >"How so?" "Well, it means roaming free for me during the days and actually working, rather than sit around and share stares with Anon for eight hours," you calmly explain. "I don't like sitting idle, and there is something..." >You pause a moment, trying to think while Starla sits patiently. "I sort of miss spending time out there, I suppose. It was the first place that felt like home to me. I knew certain areas and little paths through piles of scrap like the back of my hoof." >"Was it because you actually liked it out there, or you finally felt like you had control over your life?" >You give the question a moment of thought - though the reason is painfully obvious. "Probably the latter." >"But you really do enjoy working on that kind of stuff, huh? I know Teddy enjoys it too."

>>7274 "Yeah, there's a comfort in being around cars. I'm trying to convince Anon to adopt a project car for us to work on, now that we will likely have more free time with the shift in the business." >Already rather perky, Starla's interest is further piqued by the proposal. >"Oh, that would be really nice for you two! Something to bond over!" she cheerfully replies. "Yeah, maybe..." >Maybe you should have been a bit more assertive in your response. >Starla's enthusiasm fades. >"Something on your mind?" she asks. "I would have at least expected a snappy response out of that comment." "No, I just... I'm sort of agreeing with you." >"Oh," Starla replies, sounding quite dumbfounded for a moment. "Wait, really?" "It is more about the car though," you affirm, feeling a bit vulnerable. >She doesn't need to know what's going on. >Though she did sort of set you on this path... >"It sounds like things between you and Anon are a lot better now. Teddy told me about the little excursion you two had a few weeks ago." "Nothing happened!" you blurt out instinctively. >You dumbass. >That sounded desperate. >The outburst certainly gets a brow raise from your friend on the other side of the screen. >"I... didn't say anything happened, Midnight. But with that much enthusiasm behind that - what's going on with you two?" >Is her knowing about you and Anon being a thing really a big deal? >Who is she gonna tell aside from Teddy? >Again, you already know your hangups without someone else explaining it. >Vulnerability. >It's an awful feeling. >But does it have to be? >You're sure at some point, Anon is going to blab about it to Teddy. >Why not be in control? "It's... complicated, Starla," you start hesitantly, keeping your eyes focused away from her. "I guess I sort of... I said things. And I didn't really know what I said at the time. But later, when I heard what I had said - things made a bit more sense to me?" >"...what?" >You sigh. "Anon and I are... enjoying each other's company." >"You're dating?!" "No, that's not-" >Starla lets out a giggle of excitement, clapping her front hooves together. >"Midnight, that's great!" she cheers in a bubbly voice, hardly able to contain herself. "Why are you acting so ashamed?" "It's kinda embarrassing, Starla," you admit. >She cocks her head at that, eyeing you expectantly. >"Why? Because big tough mares can't have a heart?" she says in a playfully gruff voice. "It feels weird. I don't feel like I'm... well, me." >That utterance causes Starla to drop her silly act, leaning closer to the screen. >The abrupt shift in attention unnerves you as your ears fold flat against your head. >"Who are you?" "What kind of a question is that? Have you lost your marbles?" you snap, feeling insulted by such a stupid question. >But Starla calmly shakes her head, undeterred by your attitude. >"Midnight, are you really the iron-hearted and bitter mare you try to come off as?" "You think I'm just an act?"

>>7275 >"I think you did what you had to do in order to deal with everything you've been through. I didn't have it anywhere near as hard as you did, and I still have nightmares from time to time being back where I came from - without Teddy. So I really can't imagine the hell you experienced. But you're out of there now." >... "I don't follow." >"You say that experiencing a relationship feels weird like you aren't you - what exactly do *you* mean by that?" "I'm just not used to being open with someone else. Being more... close with someone? That isn't me." >Starla frowns a bit at that response. >What if that is the real you - and you've just buried it for so long, you've forgotten?" "To my knowledge, I've *never* been close to anyone," you bitterly comment. >"Exactly. I'm not suggesting you completely reinvent yourself - but stray out of your comfort zone, Midnight. By the sounds of it, you do kind of like this closeness, even though it feels strange." "It is quite a foreign sensation having someone else play with your hair or hug you..." >"See? And I figured you did your hair up for Anon," she answers back with a rather mischievous giggle and accompanying grin. "Shut up - I did my hair, not him. And I like keeping it out of the way when I work, too." >"I'm just teasing. Really, it looks good," she compliments. "Though I might be a bit partial to braids." >Starla bats at her own braid with a hoof in demonstration. >"But, maybe I should change it up a bit" she continues, putting a hoof to her chin. "Of course, I'll need Teddy's help to do that, but he enjoys it." "Glad I can do it on my own, to be honest with you. I don't know if I would trust Anon's styling abilities." >"No?" "I've already been a guinea pig once in my life - I don't want to do it again." >"You might be surprised what Anon could do. It took Teddy a few tries to get my hair right - though I didn't have the heart to tell him it was anything other than perfect." "Not to be an ass, but you don't seem like the kind to worry about perfection." >"No, I'm not - merely making a point I was thankful for what he could do. We enjoy each other's company - it's really the thought that counts." "I think I understand that a bit more now," you reply, unable to prevent a chuckle from escaping. "A few days ago, Anon tried cooking chicken over an open firepit - it came out rather charred. It wasn't too bad though." >"Well, I can't say I was a natural when it came to cooking or baking either. Not at first," Starla replies with a laugh. >That reminds you... "I understand that you can't do your hair - but how do you do other stuff? Like cooking?" >"In a way, I suppose I am just a teensy bit envious of your *ahem* 'magic.' But I have a few tools Teddy has made. And may I ask, how do you pick up items that aren't magnetic?" >Of course. "... really? You just grab and use utensils and other tools with your mouth?"

>>7276 >"Mhm. Obviously, you get better at manipulating things the more you do it. If you don't mind me bragging, I have to say I'm pretty handy in the kitchen. But it's because I enjoy it so much that I have gotten a knack for it." "You aren't as stupid as I thought you were." >Whoops. >Starla is taken aback by your offhanded comment, grimacing and recoiling from the screen just a bit. "Sorry, sorry!" you frantically backtrack, waving your hooves in desperation. "I meant that you're smarter than I gave you credit for, being a real pony and whatnot. The few I remember being around... I was probably being judgmental then, too. Again, I didn't mean that." >"You're okay, Midnight. Apology accepted," she says, breaking into a smile and nodding in reassurance. >You sigh with relief. "I need to work on my social graces," you lament. >"You've improved just since the first day we met - but it takes time. Maybe sometime, we should all get together for a day out. Or a night out - whatever works. Like a double date." "Oh stop - you're sounding like Anon now," you joke. >"He sounds like he's full of good ideas." "He's full of something, alright." >Laughter rings out from the speakers of the laptop, before getting cut short by a buzzer in the background. >Starla instantly perks up, her ears swiveling in response to the stimulus. >"Oh, I forgot I had a pie in the oven - apple cinnamon, a new recipe I found," she explains, letting excitement creep into her voice as she slips out of her chair and onto all four hooves. "Sorry to cut this short Midnight - we should do this again soon!" "You bet. Thanks, Starla. Take care." >"You too - buh bye for now!" >Waving a hoof in response to her wave - the video feed goes to black as your chat disconnects. >As you close your laptop, you hear footsteps trudging up the stairs on the other side of the door out in the kitchen. >Slowly, the door cracks open as you turn your head to look. >Anon pokes his head in, scanning around tepidly before focusing on you. "It's not that big of a deal, you know," you tell him. >It gets a smirk out of him before the door swings open, his right arm cradling a bag of groceries. >"Yeah well, I figured I shouldn't listen in on girl talk. You two giggling about boys and stuff?" "Oh, shut up. I'd chuck something at you if you weren't holding food." >"I find it surprising that you would be that reserved," he answers with a laugh, setting down the brown bags on the counter and opening the fridge door. "But you know I'm kidding - I did want to give you privacy. And I'm glad that you decided to reach out to Starla." "Me too," you agree, unable to prevent a grin from spreading onto your face. "I think this is something I need." -----

>>7270 I think she just wants to really show him how thankful she is. And to tease him. And to hopefully distract him from the shame that is her life. I've been thinking of that too. She may not complain about being a basement pony but there's an entire two-floor house attached to that basement. Only two people in something that big would still be pretty lonely, but there is a mission in helping Anon chase the phantoms out so he doesn't feel the need to hide.

>>7278 >And to hopefully distract him from the shame that is her life. Kind of odd thinking of Star with an emotion like shame due to how loosy goosy she is. But it is probably about right. Just kind of hard to tell with her how exactly she viewed her previous life, just how rose-tinted those glasses where. I suppose a gash to the side really reveals how things truly are. >but there is a mission in helping Anon chase the phantoms out so he doesn't feel the need to hide. Looking forward to seeing it play it.

>>7277 >We see Starla once again Nice. Glad those two are continuing to be friends. Sounds like Midnight is still getting comfortable with being comfortable. That double date could be interesting, though it'll probably have to be Midnight suggesting it to Anon and not the other way around for it to happen. Thanks for the update. As a side note, do you think they would modify the potential project car to be more suited for pony operation or do you suppose that Midnight can operate a standard vehicle with nothing but her magic?

Just spotted this on PonerPics.

>>7283 Yeah they weren't on the boorus, time to change that.

>>7282 I believe I mentioned it once in the green thus far - forgive me if I'm wrong - but Midnight has used the Trailduster before. It helps she's a pretty big poner, so she can basically reach everything - but it really isn't comfortable. That being said, I don't think we will see any noteworthy modifications in the field of ergonomics if/when a project car happens. After all, ponies (probably) aren't eligible for driver's licenses. It would have to be some backroad shenanigans for Midnight to get behind the wheel for any amount of time in order to avoid trouble and unwanted attention.

>>7289 >Midnight has used the Trailduster before I still actually need to catch up on the earlier section of the green, so that's probably why I missed that. >After all, ponies (probably) aren't eligible for driver's licenses. It would have to be some backroad shenanigans for Midnight to get behind the wheel for any amount of time in order to avoid trouble and unwanted attention. While yes, I figure Midnight would probably enjoy operating their project car after putting so much effort into it. Even if it's not her idea, I'm sure Anon could figure something out. Could be just round the junkyard even.

>>7277 >Slowly ambling along the path, you keep a sharp eye out for movement. >It's an ocean of Mercurys as far as the eye can see down this row, but you're looking for one in particular. >You rumble past groups of Cougars, Montegos, Montereys... >There we go - Comets. >Suddenly, everything gets smaller, the path just a little wider now with a lining of compacts. >Well, compacts for '70s America. >Though they had intermediate Comets before the Ford Maverick clone, which is what you're looking for... >Yet the Comet name was used on a Falcon - another compact before then... >Fucking FoMoCo. >You finally spy Midnight ahead on the left, practically sprawled over the engine bay of a '66 Comet. >Evidently, she's gotten a part pull job from hell. >At least it's likely the last one for the day. >Hard to believe you can say that - but five o'clock is close at hand. >It's certainly an adjustment to get used to working out in the sun all day. >And well - actually working all day. >But it isn't too tiring. >You come to a stop in front of the car, though Midnight has not moved or otherwise made note of your presence. >As she fights with whatever parts are being trouble, her tail swishes back and forth idly. >Hm. >One hell of a view, if you do say so yourself. >...maybe you should stop being a pervert. "What's cookin, good lookin?" you comment as you lean out the window. >"Ah, there it is, the retarded comment I was waiting for," you hear Midnight muse, barely audible over the engine of your truck and her focus still being on the work at hand. >You throw the shifter into park and step out of the truck. "Did I live up to your expectations?" >Midnight doesn't answer you until you wander over to the passenger side fender to get a look at what's going on. "It was wittier than I expected. So you kind of failed," she says, glancing over at you. "Damn," you sigh expressively. "Everything going okay?" >"Getting there. I'm assuming you didn't purposely give this job to me knowing how awful it was going to be. Or did you?" >You quickly shake your head to dissuade any notion of asshattery on your part. "Wiper motor, right?" you ask to be sure. >Midnight nods as her attention is directed back to the area of work - the cowl. >"The mounting bolts were rusted to fuck - this car definitely didn't come from around here," she explains. "Took forever to get those damn things out - I've been fighting getting the nut and the linkage off of the shaft." "Yeah, sometimes you really gotta work the shaft before you get a release," you reply, tongue-in-cheek. >Midnight does her damndest to scowl at the comment, but there's still the hint of an upturn at the corner of her mouth. >"That was fucking stupid. You should apologize for that," she says after a moment and a clatter of metal within the cowl. >The wiper motor comes free of the firewall and levitates over to you, into your hands. "See? It helped." >"No."

>>7300 >Midnight gathers up her tools while you head around back of the Trailduster and put the motor in the back amongst the pile of other pieces collected today. >The housing is pretty rusted and weathered - hopefully, a test will show it still works... >Certainly does need the output shaft cleaned up, though. >You're proud of Midnight showing patience with it - that's certainly been a learning curve for her. >Walking back to the open driver's door, you hop in just as Midnight climbs in and sets her bag behind the seat. "That was good work, Middie. Sorry the last job of the day had to be a shit one." >"Yeah, that wasn't fun - but I got it," she exhales. >After you get moving, you glance over at her. >She looks tired. >Aside from her hair being out of sorts from toiling in the nitty-gritty of ancient automobiles all day and the dust and grease that entails, she's rather slumped forward in her seat, while her eyes are lazy and unfocused. >Without a word, you reach over and stroke her back, in between her wings. >She arches her back a bit as you do so, not unlike a cat. >"What?" she asks, turning to you. "I'm not poking fun at you when I say this - you look worn out." >For a moment, you don't get any sort of response. >Not really unexpected. >"Truth be told... I didn't expect to actually feel like it was work," she states slowly. " Not saying I don't like doing it, it's just-" "A lot of work." >"Yeah." >To be fair, she has been absolutely killing it when it comes to getting parts quickly. >But in the back of your mind, you were wondering if it would catch up with her. "I was joking when I told you to put your money where your mouth was in regards to pulling more parts than me - you know that, right?" >"Of course - it's a matter of personal pride," she says while sitting up straight, her chest thrust out just a bit. "You don't need to kill yourself over it, though." >"I might be going at it a bit too hard," Midnight acknowledges, relaxing back to her previous state. "How the hell are you not tired?" "I am a little bit - but remember, I did all of this shit by myself before you came along. In the shop for eight hours, then out back for three or four hours. So with eight hours and the two of us - yeah, I suppose I'm going at a slower pace. Let's be honest, I'm also using the truck, while your stubborn ass walks all the way to the other side of the junkyard every time you decide to fetch a part without me." >"Yeah, and if I take the Trailduster, what are you gonna do for tools?" >You shake your head. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying be smarter about it because I know you can look at what we need and determine what is close by. You're trying to prove something to me that I already know you can do." >Midnight scowls at you with that remark. >Seems about right... >But surprisingly, that angry face softens up. >"You have a point. It really isn't a competition, is it?"

>>7301 "No, no it's not," you reply, trying to hide the astonishment from your voice. >A failed attempt, seeing as how Midnight stares back in utter confusion. >"What's the matter?" "Nothing's wrong, I just didn't anticipate you agreeing with me," you admit. >"Oh. It was a good point, I have to admit that." >That's almost like being called intelligent. >By Midnight. "I try to say smart things." >"You do, you've gotten better at actually using what little you possess." "Is that an insult, or a compliment?" >"Yes," she replies, clearing her throat. "But there was something else that you said that I've sort of been mulling for a little bit." "What's that?" >"Well... maybe doing a night out, or a night here with Starla and Teddy... like a date, I suppose - maybe that's not such a bad idea." >You look back over to see her expression. >She looks a bit sheepish after that uncomfortable proposal but is otherwise dead serious. "You know I'm not opposed to that - what made you consider it?" you inquire. >"Starla suggested the same thing a couple of days ago when we were talking." "Man, she's got a hold on you, doesn't she?" >"Bite me," Midnight growls. "My bad, I didn't mean it quite as crude as that," you apologize. "I just meant you really do take what she has to say to heart, yeah?" >"Yeah - she's been through a similar situation, the same sort of background. That sort of means something, you know? It isn't that I don't trust you - I do. But... it's a different perspective from someone like me. It's a connection that differs from what we have, and in some instances - it just resonates a bit better. Or maybe it was hearing it from someone else, I don't know." "I think I get it - but it also sounds like you're apologizing to me," you suggest. >"I don't want you thinking that I'm only going to listen to her advice." "You already proved to me at the start of this conversation you have an ear for my suggestions," you calmly remind her. >"...oh yeah," she laments, mocking a slap to her own forehead with a hoof. "You really are burned out from today - don't sweat it," you console, momentarily leaning and putting an arm around her in a hug. >"Oh, speaking of ideas - Starla also agreed a project car would be something neat to tackle together," Midnight pipes up. "What, you and her?" >"You and me, dum-dum." "Welp, my turn to feel stupid now. Glad I'm used to it," you wisecrack. > Midnight's disappointment is palpable. >"Really? You couldn't let me hit that pitch?" she whines. "Nope, too easy," you respond, smirking. >"Fiiine. But that's two opinions now that think a project car would be neat," she protests. >It's cute - she practically looks like she's begging with her ears folded back and a slight pout. "There's three of us with the same opinion - it's about timing and the price," you answer. >"And the car." "You think you can afford to be picky?" >"If we pull something from out back, yeah. Probably be more work but... hell, I'm for it."

>>7302 "Well, I suppose - if something tickles your fancy, and it's not completely roasted, I'll consider it." >That gets an ear-to-ear grin from her, supplemented by the presence of fangs. >"And I get to pick." "You get to pick. Pending final approval that it's something doable with parts availability." >It's only a couple more minutes before you arrive back in the shop, but Midnight has perked up a bit, her attention now directed toward the rows of cars that pass by. >Both of you quickly offload parts to end the workday, leaving the Trailduster sitting in the first bay of the garage. >"Food and rest now," Midnight affirms. "Nope. Shower first - you look like you were rolling around in the dirt," you tease her. >"Shower isn't a bad idea. You probably need one, too." >You both need showers. >...should you suggest it? >You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take... "Should we just knock out a shower together?" you suggest casually. >A look of incredulity spreads across Midnight's weary face, her eyes widening. >That'd be a no. >"I think you can handle a shower on your own, perv," she sasses, returning to normal. "You got a view earlier, that's enough for one day." >... >Wait. >Midnight doesn't wait for any sort of expression from you as she turns and saunters to the bathroom, slipping through the door without another word. >Just a glance back at you before the door shuts - only visible thanks to the light from her eyes, apparently preferring instead to leave the lights off. >Any expression from her otherwise is left in a mystery. >It leaves you to wonder whether the 'view' earlier was incidental or something more. >Just when you feel like you've figured her out, Midnight shows another layer underneath. -----

>>7303 >Midnight shows another layer underneath TIL Middie is an onion ^:) Comfy. Anon's getting pretty bold there, isn't he?

>>7250 >Wha >Something feels wrong >Something feels weird >What's that source of irritation? >Through barely opened eyes you see that the bathroom light is on >God damn that is bright >Why didn't you get softer light bulbs >Did you leave the light on? >Ironic that the laptop is playing a video at a loud volume but the light is what bothers you enough >Whatever >You close your eyes and try to ignore it >You're more tired than you are irritated >... >... >... >God >Damn it >The light just bothers you >You drag your hand up to wipe your eyes >Congrats >Your hand fell hard enough to effectively slap yourself >Great going Anon >Well you're awake now, aren't you? >You reach to the laptop and lower the volume >Did you really fall asleep with it blasting at max volume? >It's not unusual that the video playing is... unrelated to what you would normally listen to bu- >Wait >You can hear Starsky >You lower the volume enough where you can at least hear anything else >At least the TV isn't on too >You close your eyes and focus on listening >Sounds like she's blowing her nose >Allergy season hasn't started yet >Not for you, anyway >There's more than her merely blowing her nose >Sniffling >... >Those aren't allergies >Your eyes open >You've effectively tuned out YouTube >She's >Bawling >It is advanced crying that is going on in there >Shit >Do you get up and go to her? >Would that be too intrusive? >Would she want that? >Was this something she only just started? >... >You're still too tired for this >And it isn't only that >She is always so chill >You really do not know if it is such a great idea to put a crack in that >What would dad do? >... >You suppose it doesn't matter what he would do >He isn't here >You are >You close your eyes again >Inhale >Exhale >Who knows what time it is >But you can't go back to sleep >You can't even hear the video anymore >You can only listen to Starsky >... >... >... >You'll figure something out >You have to

>>7303 >double date with Starla and Teddy >what made you consider it? Surely not omniscient beings from outside their universe ^:) I think it'll be fun. Good to see Teddy again as well. Also, it seems a potential opportunity for Middie to be driving around a project car has popped up: transporting her and her tools around the junkyard. Of course I'm not being super serious there. She'll probably want to keep the thing pristine after putting in the work to restore it, would be kind off odd as well. Anon better be careful in his advances, the day she says yes she ain't likely to hold back. Thanks for the update.

>>7307 Weird update. Seems like there's something wrong with Anon beyond just tiredness. Did Star accidentally set the house on fire trying to cook breakfast for Anon? Is that why she's crying? Is it smoke that irritates Anon's eyes? But assuming it's not that, should definitely go in and check on her. I think some company would help her out.

>>7307 >You woke up to a sleeping Starsky >Her wracked sobs haunted you to the point you heard her even at work >You also came home to a sleeping Starsky >She doesn't look like she had moved at all >You probably should let her just sleep >But you get the feeling that you really can't just leave her alone with this >What's important is that you don't really make it obvious that you know she needs something >You kneel down in front of her >She really is enjoying the loveseat >Some of her hairs are marking it as her spot >Her bandages look a little loose >The last few times you re-dressed her, it didn't look like it was really required >But her skin... >If you stop with the bandages, it might cause her scars to be more obvious >Maybe if you keep re-dressing her, they'll go away "...man..." >You can't help but mutter to yourself >"Sleepy Beauty was woken up with a kiss, Mr. A. Wanna wake me up?" "G-gah!" >You recoil >She didn't even look like she could see you >She smiles and yawns >Quite a yawn, at that "Glad you're up... I was kinda worried that you might be getting sick or something." >"Nahhh... me? I'm a child of nature, Mr. A. The few times I got sick, it was from weird food." >She picks her head up >She looks like she's pretty chill, as usual >She has that mellow smile >But her eyes are bloodshot >You can't help but wince >That reaction makes her deflate >"...that obvious, huh?" >Yes "..." >You exhale and plant yourself down, sitting properly on the floor "Yeah." >She has no clever remark >Silence reigns until you speak up "You wanna go out after work? I kinda recognize that you probably aren't used to being cooped up somewhere for so long." >Her mellow smile rises >"Ooh. Like a date?" "Yeah." >You would be cautious but let's be real, it would probably be a date "Why not show you off? Gotta show how lucky I am somehow, right?" >"Heheh..." >Her satisfied giggle says you're on the right path >"I knew using my tail for phase one would work, you know. Can't hide it from me." "...yeah, I guess you're right." >"And the way you hugged me too when y-" "Ok, you don't need to go that far into it!" >You're kinda trying to yield enough to her but you don't want her to remind you of how it went down >Especially because you're starting to... >React to her favorably >"Haaa... don't worry, dude. You and me... it's really special. I can tell." "Oh yeah?" >"Yeah, man... I should probably be more careful. Or worried. Or cautious. But I can feel it." "Feel what?" >She shrugs >The way she shrugs, it's like her side doesn't even hurt anymore >"Who knows? It's my first time having someone be able to cheer me up so easily." "Oh. Well that's good, isn't it? That means it's special." >"For real. Hopefully you'll continue to be that someone for me." >Mission... >Accomplished? >Going by her words, you should probably be elated that she's been feeling so good >But >Something bothers you about this >You like her but you would never actively initiate any... things

>>7313 >You never would have actively thought to initiate things to begin with! >And you still really don't know her >No matter how you try to explain it, there's a very awkward feeling in the air >When you don't say anything about it or get up, she gives an apologetic smile >"...sorry. That was kind of a little much, wasn't it." >"Of course not!" is what you wanted to say >You don't want to be a dick about it "Just a bit, yeah." >She drops her head on the loveseat in defeat >"...dang... I'm just trying to act like how Lizzy used to. It always worked for her." >You can maybe see why >But... "Wait, you hope I'm the sort of guy that would fall for her tactics?" >For the first time ever, you see her give some sort of... >Genuine disgust >"...ew. No way." >She squints and recoils like your words put a bad taste in her mouth >"...ew! No! Bro, have you seen her boyfriends?! Holy smokes, those guys were... well, I mean, one or two were kinda cool... but the most of them, after a point..." >She recoils and shakes her head like you forced bad cough syrup in her mouth >"No way... don't be like them, man. That would be so gross." "I'm... glad you see my point?" >You're at least two steps away from being able to even gauge what's on her mind >She exhales until she deflates >And closes her eyes >"Man... mind if I lay down some knowledge that you can't ever repeat or tell to anyone?" >Uh oh >No way "Sure." >Dammit >A few seconds pass >"...really?" >Don't even say it "Yeah." >Dammit >Without opening her eyes, she starts >"I'm sorry I'm doing stuff like that, Mr. A. I'm... I'm not like Lizzy." >You could guess that >"But... I want you to like me. I want it a whole bunch. I'm not kidding when I say you just have that sort of aura. Like, you're a magnet and I'm the fridge." "I'm the magnet?" >"Yeah, man. Animal magnetism?" >That makes sense "Alright. Why are you the fridge?" >"Because I'm so cool." >She replies to that so naturally and so confidently that you can't help but belch out an unexpected "ha!" >The corners of her mouth raise >"I just want you to like me, man... I know we aren't dating... and I know you got your stuff going on too. I just want to do what I can so I just tip the scales in my favor. And if I can have some fun and learn more things about you, why not? It means it'll be easier for me to convince you I'm not bad news." >That's >Deeper than you expected her to be >And kinda... >Proactive? >Scheming? "So... what, you get to stick around and I keep having you make it worth my while?" >The growing smile that was trying to shine through droops >"...that's about the size of it, yeah. You're a guy so... you really don't mind it, do you? You really seemed to not be in a position to dislike it." >How do you be civil about this? "That's kinda trashy, to be honest. Just because Lizzy maybe found ways to get guys to like her, you really don't need to do that with me." >"Why?"

>>7314 >She faces you with her eyes still closed >"You liked it. We both know that wasn't a false alarm. Or an aimless cleanup." "Because that sort of shit matters to me too, I don't want someone taking advantage of me through that. If anything, it'll make me paranoid and think that you're doing it mostly to get something out of it in return." >She gives a stray sniffle >"Yeah... I guess." "Yeah. You should more than guess." >She opens one of her eyes >"...man. I wish I was Roxanne and you were Max." "...come again?" >"My favorite movie, man." >She closes her eye again >"Both characters like each other, it's not really that awkward, happy ending at the end..." >You aren't really following her >"There was no... searching for a girlfriend. He knew who he wanted and he went after it. And she liked him too, which you don't always see. Even her super cool friend got someone too. I... think?" >Little by little she's losing her tone >Until she's just... >Talking >No real characteristic inflection or tone to take note of >"Don't let me be her, Anon... she did what I did. And worse. So much worse..." >Maybe it's best to let her carry on >"It started with hugging. With kisses being rewards. Then it started with kissing and grinding as rewards. Rewards for what? For... the attention. For gifts. Help. Homework answers, you name it." >You can see that happening >"Until she... she went back hard on what she said was special." >You can probably fill in the blanks on that >She sighs again >"She's abandoned me, Anon. I don't have her anymore. She threw me away like a bloody sack." >There's the dam broken >"I don't know how to keep you around either. You're a man, of course there are things you like." "I'm more than just that." >"I know! I know... but I don't know what that is. I get something wrong, you get mad at me. Or you start to regret that I'm here. Or that you want something in return. Or stop being so nice about things." >Who in the hell would take advantage of her to such an extreme degree? >Or, better to say, who took advantage of Lizzy like that? "Starsky, look at me. Enough with this avoiding the eye contact." >She hesitantly looks at you >She looks like she knows she's in trouble >You give her a stern frown and lean forward >And poke her nose >You poke it repeatedly >One of her eyebrows raise >You keep poking her nose >"...you alright dude?" "I'm getting your attention." >"...well you got it. Just don't go up my nose?" >That makes you stop "...right." >You shake your head to clear your mind of the thought "If you'd like to learn more about me, I'm fine with that. I want to learn more about you, so I'm alright with that too." >No reply "I... don't know if I can be your Max. I really don't. Because I don't know what my Roxanne looks like. You know where I was before I came back here?" >No reply >But she looks visibly intrigued

>>7315 "I had a better job. I had an... ok apartment. And I was actually chatting up a steak house waitress." >"Because she had the meat you craved?" "Shut up. And... yes. She always got me an extra side of whipped butter. I even got her number." >"How did that go?" "It didn't. Because less than a week later, I got a call from my dad and... I dropped everything. So I effectively quit my job with no notice. I never actually contacted her. I filled up my bags of shit that I could carry and drove all the way here. The few friends I had, I told them that they could cannibalize my place and take whatever they wanted." >"Oh... that's charitable of you." >She's focusing enough on your story that she sits herself up "Not really, most were just coworkers I talked to often. A few of them were jackasses. But none were bad guys." >How long ago did that happen? >It feels like it happened yesterday "I even called my apartment and said that they could take my lease and shove it. I gave them the money for rent, appropriate to the day I left, and said that I just tossed the key since I was already gone." >You did do that, didn't you? >A few years of building up a nice kitchen, bedroom and living room >All gone >The entire life you were starting to build up for yourself >Every single appliance, gadget, and goofy little trinket >Either thrown out, taken and in someone else's home, or sold >How much money was that all worth? "I..." >You really did drop everything, didn't you >Your life died because it followed your dad >Or did he kill your life with his death "I... I had something set up." >You wave your arm around, to show off the basement "And... now this is my life. A couch, a loveseat, living in a freaking basement." >"But... you have this entire house." "It's not my house! It was never my house, I just lived here!" >You didn't expect to shout that out >She's just as surprised, her ears flattening "I..." >You bring your hand up to your forehead "I don't even know what I'm doing with my life right now. The few friends I had, if they were ever really friends, are gone. My family... what's left of it, anyway. They're gone. I don't have anyone left. I don't have anyone I can go to for help, if I ever had that. I could get advice but I was always told to "figure it out" or to "fix it". And now I don't even get the advice." >Speaking of dams breaking... "Whether or not any of this is a good idea, or right, or should happen... I don't know. But I can't just... leave you out there. I can't not help you. But don't try to do stuff that makes you think I'm trying to use you. I'm not, I..." >You just need a project to distract yourself with >A bitter, ugly truth >One that matches her own "...I don't know what you need from your Max. I don't know if I can give that. I don't know what I can give right now, outside of... food and a place to sleep. That's all I really have." >She doesn't say anything to you >You wouldn't say anything to you either

>>7316 >Neither of you speak or even move for what feels like hours >You can feel the shame in the air >Neither of you look good >Neither of you look anything resembling good >"...do you still want to do a date?" >She tries to sound hopeful "...well, yeah." >You don't mean to sound annoyed "I mean, yeah. I'd like that. You shouldn't be left alone in here so much. And I guess neither should I." >God damn your tongue >They say that you feel better when you let things out >You don't feel better at all >You just feel more self-aware >You've been helping before thinking if you've had the capacity to truly make a difference >"...it'll be alright, Mr. A." >The way she's looking at you >Does she really believe it? "Will it?" >"If you're trying, and I'm trying... how about we try together?" >What do you have to lose at this point? >She's been mostly honest so far >And you really have no reason to think that this might be some sort of scam "Yeah. Sure. I mean, I'd like that. If it means that it'll help you, I'm for it." >She gets more of that mellow smile >"And if it means it'll help you, I'm for it too. That's how that sort of thing is supposed to go, right?" "Right." >You feel so expended of all of your energy >You feel downright exhausted, actually "...mind if you don't repeat this or tell anyone what kinda just happened?" >Starsky smiles >"Sure, Mr. A. I'll help if you'll help. And you'll keep secrets if I do. Right?" >You nod "That's how it'll go hopefully." >"Well right on, man. See? We're already closer now because we're open and honest with each other." >Open and honest, huh? "If that's the case, I could sure go for a Starsky special." >You drag yourself to your feet and fall onto your couch >And sink appropriately far into it >"...which one are you thinking of? Mr. A?" "Uh... ah... the one where you double as a blanket. But right now..." >You look for something that tells time >It's not even as late as you thought it was "Right now... let's just call it a night." >"Sure, Mr. A." >You close your eyes >You feel so disgusted with yourself for being so open and honest >Not because you hate being honest >But because this entire thing has been so awkward to deal with >It wasn't your first plan to do this sort of thing "Good night, Starsky." >"...yeah. Good night, Mr. A. I'll hop over there when you least expect it. Alright?" >Maybe it's your fatigue >Maybe it's your shame >You don't know anymore >But you can feel yourself smile "Thanks."

>>7317 I think it's for the best they came clean with each other. Regardless of whatever relationship status they attain, they're likely to be living together for a while. Which speaking of, seems potential for a relationship. I guess we'll see what happens on this date. I am glad that she's abandoned Lizzy's tactics in favor of a more honest approach. Thanks for the update.

CATJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK FELINESHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE

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>>7125 >The two of you finally reach your destination. >You get out of your car and let Rosie out afterwards. >After she hops out she stretches, letting out a groan as she does so. >“I will never understand how you can stay in those things for so long.” You chuckle, “Trust me, I try to avoid long drives as much as I possibly can.” >As you approach the front of the building, you notice it isn’t as ornamented as other Telmacher-owned stores. It lacked the vibrant, often garish, colors you were familiar with- only having the company logo on an off-white exterior. >Inconspicuous is the first word that comes to mind. Reaching the front door, you turn to Rosie, “You ready?” >She breathes in before exhaling deeply, “As I will ever be.” You grab the door handle, “Well, time to see just what little ponies are made of.” >The buzz of phosphorescent lighting greets you as you enter what looks like a lobby of sorts. >Behind a desk sits a woman with an auburn pixie cut, tapping away at her phone. Noticing your presence, she looks up from her phone and looks at you with hazel eyes, “There something I can help you with?” Digging out the paper from the box Rosie came in, you hand it over to her and say, “Said to send questions or feedback here, figured that since I have so many it’d just come here instead of sending a chain of emails or letters,” you fish your work ID out of your wallet and show it to her before putting it back in your pocket, “Also wanted to check out the place since I hadn’t heard about it when I started working for Mr. Tellmacher.” >She types something into the computer in front of her, her eyes scanning what’s on the screen before pressing a button on a nearby intercom, “Hey boss, we have an ‘Anonymous Chambers’ with some questions about the ‘Pony Pal’ he received.” >“Ah, a man is it? Is he cute?” The voice is feminine, mellifluous even. Enough so that it distracts you from her question and the woman behind the desk giving you a quick look up and down. >“Not worth getting yourself in trouble again, I’d say.” “Again?” >They both ignore you, her boss speaks again, “Damn, maybe next time then. Well thanks for telling me, Faye. I assume you’ll be putting him through to me then?” >“He’s here now, boss.” >A sputter followed by coughing is heard on the other end, once she stops she says, “So sorry you heard that, dear. I’ll, uh.. I’ll send Dawn and Damon to come get you, in the meantime I need to wash this out before it sets,” followed by a click, and then silence. ... Rosie and you take a seat while waiting for Dawn and Damon to show up, you lean back and say, “Well that was certainly…something, wasn’t it?” >Rosie doesn’t respond, glancing over, you notice she’s shaking. “Rosie, you okay?” >“I-I’m nervous. Back home I was never good with strangers, always got so tongue-tied.” “Don’t seem that way with me.” >She leans against you, closing her eyes, “I do not know how to explain it. But there is something I can feel within my soul, something that tells me you are someone I should trust despite us only knowing each other for a week.” Instinctively you reach up to stroke her mane, “Huh, wonder if that’s something we should ask them about. You sure it’s not because of my good looks?” >A quiet laugh escapes her lips followed by a blunted jab to your ribs, “Not worth getting in trouble over.” Chuckling, you reply, “Oof, guess I’ll have to add a bruised ego to my growing list of injuries.” >Your two’s banter had to be cut short however, as you caught something out of the corner of your eye- something was standing in the open door. When you try to look at it proper though it retreats back in a blur of white, the door swinging shut. >You stare at the door, managing to hear what sounded like, “Alright, I’ll go out first.” >Out steps a man, tan-skinned and with messy, dirty blonde hair that makes him look like a surfer. He waves at you and due to the fact that his sleeves are rolled up you notice that his arms are covered in tattoos.

>>7340 >“Hey man, name’s Damon, boss sent me to come get you.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you stand up and reciprocate, “Anonymous, though you can just call me Anon,” you gesture behind you, “And that’s Rosie. Also, who was that I just saw?” >He lets go of your hand and turns back to the doorframe, calling out, “You can come out, he doesn’t bite.” >The edge of the door begins to glow orange, slowly creeping open before revealing a pony that other than her grayish-white fur, amber eyes, and the streak in her slightly messy mane and tail being peach and orange instead of hot pink and purple, was a dead ringer for Twilight Sparkle. >You couldn’t see her mark past the edges of what looks like a lab coat made for ponies but you’d be willing to bet it looks like Twilight’s but with different colors. >She pushes up the rectangular glasses poised on her muzzle, “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Dawn Glow.” >Even sounds just like her too. >As she walks over to Rosie, you notice that Dawn’s noticeably taller than her, though you’re not sure if Rosie’s short or if Dawn’s just tall. Alicorn are supposed to be pretty tall, right? >“Hello again, Candy Quartz, we met before but you weren’t… awake at the time.” >Rosie backs up, “W-who?” >Dawn looks at you quizzically, “Is this the issue? Is she having memory problems?” “What? No, she’s having nightmares- and don’t fucking talk like she’s not standing right in front of you.” >Rosie’s taken aback by your sudden display of anger, Dawn however either didn’t notice or didn’t care, “My apologies, let’s go back to my office; I think I could answer your questions better than Sonata could.” “I take it that’s who Fae called?” >She nods, “Correct, now please follow me.” >Her horn alights in orange, before enveloping the door handle in orange as well. The door opens, and Dawn gestures to you to go in. >Damon goes in first, beginning to whistle a tune as he heads towards wherever Dawn’s office is. You follow suit, with Rosie sticking close to you. Dawn closes the door after Rosie and trots to catch up to Damon. >As you follow behind them your mind begins to race, what you just saw looked like magic. But did she actually use magic, or was it just a form of telekinesis? >You were always a bit superstitious, some would say too superstitious, but you just felt like some things couldn’t be explained rationally. And whatever you saw couldn’t be explained rationally, so you decided to open your mouth, “So…was that magic?” >She laughs, “Ha! Magic? That was child’s play.” You scoff, “And that’s a cliché. Answer the question; unless you think Sonata would answer it better?” >A groan reverberates against the walls, “Fine, if you’re going to be so asinine. Yes it is magic, it gives unicorns their ‘spells’, pegasi their flight, and earth ponies their strength. Our bodies convert it from the food we consume into magic; sugary foods are the best for it and that’s why it seems so many of us have a ‘sweet tooth’, as you humans tend to call it- though some just naturally prefer sweets. Is that a sufficient enough explanation?” “Yeah actually, it is.” >“Good now let’s continue on our way, hopefully without further disruptions.” >Something about this mare really bugs you, but you’re not quite sure what it is exactly. >That question gives you something to mull over however as you continue to Dawn’s “office”. >Just how big was this place anyways? …

Since nhnb missed the catleg madness on /mlp/, moogles are being ponified and may make an appearance. But you can give some feedback But first how the hell did we get here at the crossroads of strangewaifu and bootleg (again)? A rundown >Blondie writes Starsky acting like a cat, >People comment on ponies doing cat things >Like catgirls but better, catmares >The size chart is posted, but surprisingly they're not catsized in blondies canon >Mangaluna is posted, one of THE catmare artists. >Blondie looses his mind >Catmares take over half of posts, eventually coming up with rando nicknames like FelineShine and CatJack. >But nothing rolled well with Dashie and we ended up with "Moggie" >Apparently it's cat related but another anon says Moggie reminds them of Moogles and now thinking of Dashie as a moogle pony >It's too late >"Bring on the mooglegs" >[you are here] What do you think, would you a moogleg?

>>7346 >would you a moogleg? If she's got teats and a horsepussy, I don't see why not.

>>7346 I prefer my mares jrhnbr. Cat size is too small, not large enough to properly cuddle.

>>7346 I apologize for nothing. Catmares are cute because they're just fuzzier, smaller mares and CATJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK is by and far the cutest and hottest variation of Jack that I've ever seen. The short mane adds to it. FELINESHIIIIIIIIIINE also helps show just how adorable (and also hot) Shine is. It's pure platinum. I think I stuck with FaintMoggie for Prism or something because moggie is supposedly a term for a stray/mutt female. But I also like PURRRRRRRRISM. I blame my /boot/mares and their habits of nuzzling and meowing for attention. It's the good stuff.

>>7352 WET MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARES

>>7317 >Your yawn is a dull roar >Your spatula is a flat lance of justice >Your rubber tongs are the claws from which nothing can escape >Your c- >Starsky yawns too >... >It's far too soft a yawn for you to keep your mind focused "Still sleepy?" >"Like, seriously. I'm not saying I don't like sleeping on you? But man... you're up before the sun." >Starsky opted to sleep on you again >You were hesitant for it because of her side but for the last day or two it seems like her wounds have healed fully >The two longest slices are still visible on her skin, if you part her fur >You can feel them just as well >After today's shower, you'll see if you can just stop wrapping her up like a mummy "I guess I can't help it. I used to hate waking up early but I guess if I do, I just do." >Today's menu: bacon, biscuits in the oven, and oatmeal >You kinda find it odd that you're so easily able to go into the kitchen >Maybe it is because you have always enjoyed cooking >You know where everything is >You're proud of having so much cast iron utensils and containers at your fingertips >A lot of these things have been in your family for well over a century >You feel connected to everyone, when you hold your skillet >"Hey, Mr. A?" "Yup?" >"You... like, focus hardcore to this stuff. Were you ever a chef or something?" "I do?" >Maybe it's because it clears your head >"For sure, due. I'm kinda worried you might throw me up there and filet me next." "Don't worry, I won't eat you." >Rather than standing nearby and waiting... and risking a random bit of grease hit her, she's sitting with a lean against the door that goes outside "I wasn't. I can't stand the idea of cooking for pay. It would be such a ridiculous amount of time spent just standing in one place and dealing with the heat." >You clink your tongs a few times "Though ironically I always wanted to be a blacksmith. Same principle, it just isn't as fast-paced." >You turn the bacon strips over >You rarely ever do bacon for just yourself >Starsky gives you a good excuse to get fancy "So." >"Sup, bruh?" "What did you want to be when you were younger? I don't really know what sort of... careers or jobs ponies can do." >"Haaa..." >She glances to her side >Her smile grows, but she looks a little embarrassed >"You really wanna know, Mr. A?" "Well sure. I think it's an important thing to know." >"I guess I always wanted to be a mom." "A mom, huh..." >You focus on the bacon for a few moments before the weight of that sinks in >Well, it's certainly not impossible >There are male ponies out there too "I guess you can't have a better goal than to have your own family. I kinda had the same goal, but I knew that it was probably going to be one of the last goals I could fulfill." >Starsky giggles >"You wanted to be a mom too, Mr. A?" "Yup. I wanted to be known as "Mommanon"."

>>7355 >You scoff >She sounds impressed by it >"I get you, man. It 's kinda cool that you want to be a dad. I never really heard any guys that wanted that. Most Lizzy knew would probably hit the road at the hint of it. It really sounds silly to me. Who wouldn't want a family?" "For guys? Probably don't want one because that ties them down. A lot don't care for that." >It seems like the conversation is starting to pick up >She's more keenly focused and not slumping against the door >"But, like... why? I mean look at you. I bet you would make a pretttttty good papa, Mr. A." >You clamp your tongs in anticipation >Remember, Anon, you can't eat raw bacon >And you can't force them to get crispy before their time "Well sure, I would. But a lot of guys? They'd be pretty happy to stick it in whoever would give them the time of day. Doesn't mean they're invested or care about whoever." >"What about you?" >You set the tongs down >Dammit >The longer you watch them, the slower they're going to cook >You distance yourself from the skillet and rest with your back against the counter "What about what, about me?" >She grins, eyes locked to yours >"Does that include you?" >What does she me- >Oh "...no. To be honest, I'd rather take care of myself than to risk having kids with someone who might not be a good mom. Or to be taken advantage of by someone who would be a pretty bad mom." >She giggles, that grin expanding >"Soooo... if you did... that would mean that you would kinda have chosen them?" >Does it mean that? >You squint, taking a moment to think it over >You suppose that does gel with your mindset >It isn't like you've slept around any >Your dad probably had a big hand in letting you know proper limits >Limits like... >You leer at Starsky >Your face feels warm "...rubbing doesn't count." >Her grin drops >"Oh come, Mr. A!" >You shake your head in defiance with a pushed out lower lip "Nope. Doesn't count." >"Bruhhhh..." >She exhales the word, defeated >"Denied, even... and to my face." >Her eyes go down to the floor >"You're a harsh dude, dude." >You get the feeling she isn't so broken up over it >Your retort is a "heh" "But. Apparently you are a particularly special sort." >Her ears perk up before the rest of her does >"...nah... you don't mean it..." "Mmmm... I don't know. I'm pretty sure I do." >Her tail flickers >You can tell she's fighting the urge to smile >You can hear it in her tone >"I ain't special, bro." "Nah, you are." >The corner of her lips are twitching >"How special are you thinking, Mr. A?" >Your answer is as detailed and as vague as it could be "Special enough where I don't mind you sleeping with, and on, me." >Like a cabin door getting broken down by a horde of zombies, so does her façade explode into a proud smile >"I guess that is pretty special, huh." "It is. You better believe it." >She sways from side to side, satisfied with your confidence

>>7356 >"That's awesome, Mr. A. Thanks. I know that with Lizzy, she kinda got to the point that she would bed surf for a while. Like couch surfing, but... well, you know." "I guess I do. Did you go with her?" >She squints and shrugs >"Like... I did? The first time or two. Because... you know, sleepovers, right? I never expected her to, uh... you know." >You nod "I guess so." >She seems to like to talk about Lizzy >But you really haven't heard anything good about her yet "How often did she do that?" >"Mr. A, she..." >She rolls her eyes and looks astonished >"Like, ever since late highschool. So, like, dig this. Prom night? I was at home, watching my shows, and she said she was going out to prom. And, so, you know, no pony policy. Totally dig it! But she said she would take pictures and all sorts of stuff. So little ol' me is vegging, popping some snackage and a bit of a pop, and she comes home. After midnight! Now, her dress being kinda ruffled and muffled is coolsville because hey, I trip and fall sometimes too, right? So whatevs. But she smells like alcohol, she smells like..." >She squints again >Whether in disgust or recollection, you can't even begin to guess >"...a guy. And she's super defensive when I ask if she took any pictures. Like, she got legit mad. Like how you would get mad if I swiped all that bacon." "To be fair I wouldn't get that mad." >"Because you're a cool hombre. But anyway, she's all mad and I'm just shocked because... again, vegging with a pop. Totally chill as an ice ninja." >She sighs in exasperation >"I come to later find out, she didn't even go with her boyfriend at the time. One of the actually cool guys I mentioned. It was some guy she said she hated. So, you tell me, how do you do that with someone you hate, right? I mean, I don't hate. We're all of God's favorite little fillies. Except for the guys, and all of the non-fillies. But if I did... I would never do that sort of thing. How could you?" >You have no clue what she just said >How she ended up here and now >But you think you understand everything she just said >"And then after that... I don't even know, man. It just got out of hand over the years. I know they say that relationships change you but... those weren't relationships. None of them were. She wouldn't even know the guy's last name and she would just jump his bones like he was a recently unearthed dinosaur." >You get the feeling that she's just ranting now >"And anyway, what type of geek do you gotta be to do that repeatedly? I mean, how do you not get tired of it? And of the hardcore partying too." >She ends her impromptu tirade with a heavy sigh >You guess she's had Lizzy on the mind for a while >You can't blame her >You're sorta used to seeing her around >She has been around for the better part of a month now >Even if the lion's share of that time was spent just sleeping or being in a quiet malaise >She goes through a few visible emotions >Frustration >Fatigue >Bitterness >Disgust >And then fear

>>7357 >"H... hey..." >The shame in her tone is so thick you could wrangle it with your tongs >"...w... what's your last name?" >Oh >You see the connection >The best thing you can do is to just act like you don't "Papadopoulos." >"Anonymous Papadopoulos..." "That's right." >She stares at you for a good minute >Then bursts out into a laughing fit >It continues >For >A >Long >Time >When you think it's over and she winds down to catch her breath >It starts back up >Worse, it ends up sounding worse, like she's finally given up on her inhibitions >You can only bear it >Like a solid oak getting punched and kicked by a martial artist in training >But even then, the tree still feels pain >"PAPA!" >...what? "What?" >"PAPANON!" >You're amazed she's been howling this much and isn't actually roflcoptering all over the floor >"YOU'RE A NATURAL BORN PAPA!" >This >Isn't usually how people made fun of your last name? >Eventually >After multiple minutes >Multiple >Minutes >She wears herself down >"...so." >You've prepared the best stone face you can muster >"Can I call you Papa and have it not be weird because it's your name?" >She cracks up halfway through and bursts out laughing >You snort and your face breaks >Oh God damn it >You can't win, so you join her

>>7347 >>7348 Any commentary on 1 2 or 3 for the moogleg ears, do you think its better off to go off classic FFII+ or nu finalfantasy FFXII+ moogles?

>>7358 Glad to see Starsky doing better, having a good time with Anon in the kitchen. >Papadopoulos Hilariously, I once knew someone who had a last name the sounded something like that. Thanks for the update. >>7361 3 or 2 would probably be my sweet spot, but if moogleg is meant to be more catlike then I guess they'd probably be smaller. >finalfantasy Never played it so I really have no idea what a moogle actually is.

>>7358 They both want kids but there's the species barrier, or is it more of a species veil, easily penetrated. >>7365 I'm surprised there's been so many finalfantasies that it still actually went under the radar for you since theyre in the majority of games. but it's not impossible, I've never played dragonquest games either and they're supposed to be just as big of a franchise >>7341 Damn already getting into revelations when it's still the first week like Rosie said. Dawn being the first Twilicorn fakie of bootleg, and one that seems to be running the operation. Though this begs the question, if she had a part in how Rosie/Candy is, then what about her?

>>7358 >"How am I lookin', Mr. A?" "Well... all of your bandages have been clean for a few days now. I don't see any breaks or cracks in the skin or something." >"Helps that you've been giving me prettttty comfy rubdowns..." "...with ointment. Only there. Yes." >"You can be honest with me, Mr. A. I don't mind it." >With one last check over her side, you give your seal of approval >You never did get a reply from that ponytuber >But thankfully things have turned out for the better >You pat her side after petting her shaggy fur back into place "And that didn't hurt?" >The blue pony shakes her head >"Nah. But you can keep patting me." "I'll do you one better. How about we give your mop a chop and nail your tail?" >She looks at you with an eyebrow raised and an excited expression >"Mr. A, look at you!" >It takes a second before you realize what you said versus what she took from it "...you know exactly what I'm referring to." >"Do I, or do you?" "Whatever, I'm grabbing the shears now." >They're safety shears, what you've been using to cut her dressings loose >And here you thought you'd never use them more than once or twice "So how do you like your stuff? I'm not a barber so keep it a little on the simple side." >You can't imagine how long it has been since she's ever been cared for >The fur on her body is maybe an inch long, two inches in some places >Of course her mane and tail is always dragging down to the floor >"That's a good question. I guess I never thought about it. How about you do you?" "Eh?" >"Check it!" >She stands up and rolls her head from side to side >After a few poses she shifts to face you, then away, then the other side >"This is me normally standing and that's the main gripe, right? I'm used to it but I can't even dream of having a different style." "So full creative freedom, eh?" >"Totally." >She faces you again and sits >The gleam in her eye shows that she really is happy that this is happening "Hm..." >You squint at her "Hhhmmmm..." >You comb the top of her head with your fingers >That only seems to excite her more >But she isn't moving >That's commitment >What would look good on her? >Bowl cut? >No, that would just be sadistic >Just shorten it? >That would be easiest, wouldn't it >Her hair is pretty voluptuous >It feels soft and it doesn't feel all that tangled >Is it naturally like that? >It's hard to imagine that could really clean it with hooves >"...Woah. Mr. A, you look intense." "Shh. I'm scheming." >She stifles a noise and smiles much wider >Her eyes follow yours >Whenever you go to the front and top of her mane she raises her eyebrows >It's all one big lump of hair, isn't it >How do you style this? >You don't even style your own hair >Last time you got it cut was at least a year ago >You just brush it all back "...gah." >You close your eyes >Visualize it, Anon >"...bro, this is like... zen. You ok?" >Wait >Hold the phone >You see it now >Of course!

>>7373 "I got it!" >Your eyes lock onto her mane >She sits stiff as a statue the second you touch it >Your hand trails from the top of her head and down >Every few inches, your hand stops >She looks worried >The further down your hand goes, the more relaxed she gets >You wouldn't be a sadist and give her a buzzcut >You probably need buzzers for those anyway >Your hand stops an inch below her shoulders >There! >Firmly holding her mane in place, you bring the shears to the lump >Since it's a straight cut, your shears start chomping at the mass >At the sound of hair cutting, Starsky tenses up >"D... don't cut me, Mr. A. I just got finished healing, you know?" >The sheers are safe enough that you'd have to purposefully hold her skin out and then cut >Cut >Slice >Chop >Fourth onomatopoeia >"...did you do the do?" >Your answer is to hold up the two thirds of mane that you lopped off "I'd do one of those Xena screeching things... but I think that might be a little too weird." >The look on her face is one you will always remember >"...dude. It's like... looking at your own history." "It is, if you've never actually gotten your mane cut. When's the last time that happened, anyway?" >"Like... I don't even remember. Can I keep it?" >You furrow your brow "You want to keep it." >"Why not?" "...well what would you even do with it?" >"Water it every day until a second me sprouts from it?" >You genuinely can not tell if she is joking or serious "...nah." >"Oh..." >She sounds dejected but she'll get over it >You set down the shears and mane chunk "Alright. Now here comes the fun part." >"The what?" >You don't bother to tell her >Instead, you dig your fingers into her scalp >You massage her mane free, helping to brush out any stray hairs >"Mr. A what ar-" >Not only do your fingers flex and rub up and down her neck >But goes to the base of her ears >"MiStEr EeEeEhHhHhHh..." >Her eyes cross at your attention >Given the strength you put into your hands, it is a serious massage after a serious haircut >Your hands work their way up and down at least a good six cycles until they rest at her shoulders >By the end of it, her breathing is unsteady and a glossy sheen shows how unfocused her vision is >"Holy crackers, Papa." >You're not done yet >With the sudden burst to your muscles and tendons that come only from realizing a spider is crawling up your wrist your fingers scratch and rub and flail up the sides of her neck >The sudden jolt of sensation causes her hind legs to kick out >Your vision must be seen through >You refuse to stop here and now when you're so close >So >Very >Close >Whether you stop because of it, or because you stopped, Starsky lets out a crazed whinny >You stop and pull your hands back >If you went any faster they'd be smoking >Her mane is now wild, no longer held back by it's own weight >Rather than it sticking to one side, the poofiness is untamed and both sides of her head are equally fluffed >It is >Perfect "I'm a God damned artiste."

>>7374 >You don't have a hand mirror so you get up to grab your phone >Judging by the dumbfounded look on her face and how twitchy her hind legs are, she won't be going anywhere >You plop yourself back down in front of her and turn on the camera in selfie mode >It takes a while for her brain to hard boot but once it does she focuses hard to the rectangle >"W...woah!? Mr. A, who's that good dollop of horseradish?" >...is that supposed to be a compliment? >Whatever, it's not like you'd ever use that line "What do you think? Feel like a new mare already?" >"Bruuuuh, ha ha! Check it out!" >She tilts her head up >Down >Each side >She vigorously shakes her head, which somehow does not make her mane more or less wild and fluffy >"My head feels so light now! And breezy too... holy snap, man. I'm like... adorable." >She gives the camera a wink and her best smile >Sadly the camera doesn't take a picture on it's own >And you don't have it in you to ask her to do that again for the purpose of archival >"Dang... when was the last time I even got my mane cut? I don't even look like a filly anymore. I'm like..." >Her smile slides into something more sultry >"...mature. And junk... talk about a new beginning... wow." "I'm glad you like it. I was thinking of some other things and designs and... well. I don't know how to do those. So I just thought of something that might really fit. It's still long, that suits you. But it really shouldn't be a bother. If it is, we can get you a ribbon or so-" >"A ribbon?! Dang, you really want me to be the girly girl huh?" >You think on that "...that a problem?" >She gives a lazy salute >"No sir, Mr. Barber, sir. Lizzy used to do this sort of stuff but I kinda forgot, it had been so long. Whatever you did like... was a time machine." >Given the way she was acting, you aren't going to try to piece together what that entails "Well, if we're gonna do that date tonight, let's get to that tail." >You grab your shears and give them a test cut in the air >The look on her face >Now that, you should have taken a picture of >"W-woah down there, cowboy." "What?" >"You can't just go after a lady like that again!" "What do you mean?" >She drags herself back, making an effort to keep her hind end away from you >"Give, uh, give me a minute to recover at least!" >You don't get it "Come on, bring it here so we can take care of it too." >"B-back away, man!" "Scoot it over, let's cut mare hair." >You snip the shears in the air >"No way!" >She seems like she isn't just playing "But didn't you want to do the date thing?" >Her eyes roll in such a drunk way you're surprised she didn't disorient herself >"Bro... we skipped the date, the movie and the detour home...!" "...because I cut your mane?" >The sleepy mare inhales as hard as she can and nods >"Mr. A. You rocked the house down to the foundation and then some." "Really?" >"Dude. Totally." >You puff out your chest "Alright... nice." >Maybe you're a natural >You knew that was the right look

old scribble some weeks back, when I thought that Anon would set up more boundaries between Star

>>7376 Cute!

>>7376 She strikes me as a complete hammock mare. Laying on air would be pretty trippy to her. I wonder how things would have gone if she wasn't attacked.

>>7371 >They both want kids but there's the species barrier They could adopt a pony. >>7375 Very fun haircut with Starsky, she seemed to enjoy it a lot. Maybe they'll get around to that date some other time. Thanks for the update. >>7376 Super cute. Could definitely see her chilling in a hammock.

>>7371 Sonata's the boss around there, as she's much more charismatic than Dawn, though it probably wouldn't be hard to argue that Dawn's job is more important. As to your question, perhaps there will be an answer to it soon.

>>7303 >Today was shared weariness. >There are days that, for whatever reason, just suck from morning until quitting time. >This was one of those days. >Dropped tools, broken bolts, seized up parts. >And the wind. >Oh god, the wind. >The wind by itself was bad enough, making it a bit of a fight to walk or even stand. >But then you add the sand all around you... >That was horrible. >You don't remember ever experiencing a day with weather like that. >Midnight didn't have much fun, either. >Neither of you had to say it when trudging up the steps and walking into the kitchen. >It's gonna be a lazy night. >And that's why you find yourself as is. >Laying on the couch. >Just to hear Midnight protest when she gets back from a shower. >"Up, you greedy jerk." >There she is. >You tear your gaze from the ceiling to the mare standing beside you. "Hi." >You give her a big smile. >She doesn't return the gesture. >"Are we really gonna do this?" "I just wanted to see you pout for your seat." >Midnight looks to mull that answer for a moment. >But without warning, she leaps up on top of you, laying down. "Hey, what-" >"You're the couch now, I guess," she interrupts. "Sucks to be you." >It still surprises you that for her size, she really doesn't feel that heavy. >Certainly not causing you discomfort. >It's actually pretty nice and cozy... >Maybe too much... >Down, Anon. >Midnight sighs away the troubles and fatigues of the day away, stretching out on top of you and relaxing, her head laying on your chest to where you can look down and see her. >You're having a hard time discerning whether Midnight is trying to tease you or if it's just your mind. >Things weren't bad after the 'water-saving shower' idea a couple of days ago, but it did leave a trace of awkwardness the rest of that night. >You don't want to do that again. >But she knows that you got an eye for her, right? >So... >Fuck, just focus on something else, dude. >Enjoy this for what it is right now. >"Now what?" Midnight asks, breaking you free of your mental battle. "TV, I guess." >"You mean flipping through channels and bitching about how nothing good is on?" "Yeah, probably. You not computering tonight?" >"Sounds like work," she mumbles, turning her head to face the TV. "Entertain me." "Fine. You're needy," you jab at her. "And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're using my greediness as an excuse to cuddle with me." >"I'd argue, but you're going to believe what you want anyway," she replies nonchalantly while you start to flip through the channels with your remote. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were hogging the couch in the hopes I might do something like this." "Guess we're at an impasse, then." >"Yep." >Focus now turns on the television. >Why is everyone so damn obsessed with stupid reality shows? >Or is that just what the networks fart out and people just learn to like it? >You don't get it. >Probably never will.

>>7390 >As you keep flipping through the slideshow of programming mundanity, the startup of an engine through the speakers makes you stop on a black screen. >What's this... >A golden vee badge appears on the screen as the engine revs up. >Oh. >You haven't seen this in ages. >There's the title. >"'Christine'? We really gonna watch a chick flick?" >You look down at Midnight while the opening credits flash on screen to the tune of a vintage V8. >Midnight eyes you with a hearty helping of skepticism. "Who said it was a chick flick?" >"... the name? Just give me a break, I'm tired." "So am I." >"You've probably heard of this before or something." "Seen it. Just not in a while." >"Exactly - pound sand." "Alright, just this once." https://youtu.be/z7wr-8m0XRQ >As your light-hearted bickering winds down, the music suddenly kicks in, seconds before a factory floor pans onto the screen. >Then, the assembly line of cars appears. >You feel Midnight stir to attention at the scene. >"I can't say I've done too much reading on cars from the fifties..." she says aloud. "Plymouths. '58 Plymouth Fury, to be exact," you note, knowing that was Midnight's reason for the comment. >"They all look the same, though. Color-wise, anyway." >For now... "Yep, that's the only way they came. Cream white with gold trim. Gold interior." >"Huh. Not a bad combination." "I always liked em, but then there's-" >'She' suddenly makes an appearance on screen. >Blood red with aluminum anodized side trim, red interior. >"All the same, huh?" "In reality, yes. This one's actually a Belvedere - one trim level lower than the Fury, and they did come in this color combo. The movie just badged one as a Fury. You'll see why." >Both of you remain mum as the camera takes focus on various attributes, up until the assembly line stops. >You already know what comes next as a man opens the hood for inspection. >Probably not a good idea, bud... >You feel Midnight twitch just a bit at the ensuing 'malfunction' of the hood hinge springs. "Haha, you jumped," you tease her. >"Shut up, asshole. What kind of movie is this?" >This poor bastard getting in the car to relax with a smoke should be a good explanation... >A few moments later and a fellow worker frantically opens the door. >And out spills the smoker. "Proof that smoking kills," you wryly quip. >"Horror movie, I take it?" "Yep. Hell hath no fury like a Plymouth Fury." >No response. >Once again, you look to Midnight, who is clearly unenthused by that comment. "Don't blame me, that was a tagline of the movie or book - something like that," you calmly protest. >"You repeated the lame line - I'm holding you partially accountable." "I'm not gonna win this argument, so okay." >"Good boy." >There's not much chatter over the ensuing entrance of the characters and minor conflicts of their lives. >The nerdy high schooler being picked on. >His only friend - a jock. >A group of bullies picking a fight. >And the new girl in school - who everyone salivates over.

>>7391 >Some mildly amusing comments or banter, but both of you sort of tune into the movie itself as it progresses. >Particularly once Christine enters the fray. >To think - in her initial state that she's purchased in would be considered a fairly decent project nowadays. >"Are most of the cars in that era so... flashy?" "Yeah. It was all part of the times and what was going on in the world at the time," you reply, idly petting Midnight from her head to her neck. "I can't really say I know a hell of a lot about those era cars, but they are quite unique, to say the least." >"Certainly stand out - can't miss em." "Nope." >The nerd's attitude and personality slowly shift as he rebuilds the car. >Starts dressing differently, has confidence - and a bit of a mean streak. >But he gets the girl everyone wants. >Happy ending, right? >It's never that easy. >While you can only speak for yourself, Midnight looks about as nauseous as you feel watching Christine get vandalized after all that hard work of restoration. >The same goes for the sudden outburst of the nerd, who is really beginning to broadcast a rather sinister aura. >But then the fun really begins. >The character infatuated with his car turns his back while trying to resurrect Christine one piece at a time. >In moments, the sounds of metalwork can be heard - and the engine is suddenly looking like new in all of its black, gold, and chrome glory. >"What engine is that? It looks like a dual-quad carb setup." "350." >They put a Chevy engine in it? And those came as dual quads?" >You shake your head as Christine's headlights flash on, restoring herself in mere moments as the camera focuses on multiple areas during the scene. "Chrysler had a 350 engine for a little bit - I think it was only during the fifties," you clarify for Midnight. "I really don't know a lot about em, just bits and pieces. 'Golden Commando 350' is what they called it if I remember right." >"Huh. I guess I found a whole new era of shit to go through," she comments. "The fifties is when performance in terms of horsepower really started to become of interest in terms of selling points." >Again, things get quiet as Christine begins to enact her revenge upon those who destroyed her. >The first one is always worth a little chuckle as Christine basically toys with her prey, cornering the poor bastard who suddenly feels he has the upper hand, being in a narrow loading dock and seemingly out of reach. >The Plymouth has other ideas. >Then you get to see the rest of the posse cruising late at night in a Camaro, before again, Christine makes an appearance. >You always liked this whole set of scenes as the encounter goes from mild annoyance to a life and death struggle. > Bye-bye, Camaro. >And what a sendoff for it and the gas station. >"That escalated quickly." "Shut up. I'm supposed to make the stupid comments." >"Hm. No." >Midnight closes her eyes and sticks her nose up at you. "You're gonna miss the next bit if you do that."

>>7392 >On cue, the sound of tires squealing from the fire and flames pulls both of you back in, as a ride that now looks as if its straight from hell stalks the final victim. >"Why the hell doesn't he just get out of the road? Why would you just run straight down the centerline?" Midnight scoffs. "Movie logic. Don't question it," you reply, waiting for the right moment... >Closer... >Christine is almost there... "Boop!" you comment, touching your index finger to Midnight's nose just as Christine finishes off the last guy. >"Faggot," Midnight grumbles, unamused. "I was hoping you would jump." >"Nah, I'm used to your bullshit now." "I'll have to change it up then." >"You don't *have* to." >Meanwhile, Jackhole McFatass meets his end as well in a stupid way. >And now the nerd is under suspicion for the murders. >Or would it be better to say greaser now, with his hair and clothes harkening back to another time? >But he's changed - and his girl and jock friend have been pushed away. >"This guy does realize being a dick to everyone isn't helping him at all, right?" >You have to just stare at Midnight for a comment that is soaked in irony. >"What?" she asks, completely unaware of the situation. "Pot, meet Kettle," you say. >"I don't... oh." >You don't say anything, merely smile and rub one of her ears between your thumb and forefinger. >She leans into it while the final pieces in this movie fall into place. >Both the jock and the ex-girlfriend want to save their friend. >But Christine is in the way. >Getting close to the final showdown, boys. >The would-be heroes hatch a plan and set up their trap in the old garage Christine calls home. >But the Fury has other ideas. >The car springs its own trap and catches the girl out in the open. >The final battle begins. >Bulldozer versus Plymouth. >It seems one-sided when you think about it... >But when you can unfuck any damage you cause to yourself - well, that's a bit of an equalizer. >Christine repeatedly lunges at the girl, only to be thwarted by the blade of the bulldozer acting as a guard. >A short breather to repair herself draws the dozer away - but leaving the gal exposed. >You feel Midnight tense up a bit as the bulldozer stalls, while Christine starts to make her move. >But all too soon, after missed chances, you see the importance of seatbelts as Christine and her owner make a lunge for the former girlfriend, who takes shelter in a divided internal office. >Like that, the former friend of the heroes dies. >It's over. >Christine goes quiet. >"That's it?" >You can't help but smirk at Midnight's comment of mild disappointment. >But you keep your mouth shut. >The radio in the car comes on with another song from the fifties, signaling the start of round three. >This time, Christine is reckless in her pursuit, her owner now dead and wanting an eye for an eye. >The brutish bulldozer lands a wallop, eventually dragging the car to a stop while practically riding atop it. >Now, it's...

>>7393 >Still not over yet. >The radio comes on one more time as the Fury repairs itself, with the heroes resorting to repeatedly running the hot rod over and over. >The car gives a last gasp as the radiator bursts before collapsing. >"Jesus. Is that all it took to kill the car?" Midnight snidely comments. >You laugh. "Yeah. It was that easy." >Christine is now a cube as the final few lines are exchanged between the remaining characters. >And yet... >Part of the grille moves ever so slightly before the music cues in and the credits roll. >"Wait - is there a sequel?" Midnight hesitantly asks. "No. I don't think there were ever plans for one. That's just the way they decided to end it, I guess." >Midnight looks a little disappointed with that. "That movie teaches a strong lesson, though." >"Yeah, what's that?" "Don't name your car." >You get a thump on the chest from Midnight's hoof for that inane comment. "Fine - don't blame me if you don't heed the warning and whatever shitbox we start to work on begins terrorizing everyone." >"On the plus side, we would have to do less work if the car can fix and restore itself." "Hm. That's a tough choice. But isn't fixing it up part of the fun?" >"I dunno. I guess we will find out at some point." >Without any warning, Midnight opens her mouth and lets out a big yawn. "Yeah, someday - but not tonight. I think it's time for bed," you reply, catching the infectious yawning virus and mirroring Midnight's sentiments. >Rather than get up, Midnight lays her head back down onto your chest. >"Meh. That sounds like work," she murmurs, closing her eyes. "We have to turn the lights off anyway, Middie," you remind her, motioning to the kitchen light still streaming from the ceiling out there. >Without a word, Midnight raises her head and turns it, looking out toward the cursed fixture. >You see something out in the kitchen float toward the light switch, flipping it down and throwing everything into darkness aside from what little moonlight outside trickles in through the window behind you. >Not to mention the muted blue glow from Midnight's eyes as she turns her head back toward you and resumes her prior position on your chest. >"Done." "Alright, you put up a decent argument," you yield, putting your arms around her. "Goodnight." >You feel her shift higher up on your chest and feel her breath just under your chin. >"That's not a proper good night," she coos. >Holy shit, where has this part of Midnight come from? >More importantly -why are you questioning it? "No? What is a proper goodnight?" >Her lips gently press to yours, and you happily share a kiss with her for a few fleeting moments. >"Goodnight." "G'night, Middie." -----

>>7393 Someone made a MLP picture of that already

>>7394 >>7397 >Christine and snuggles Based. Wonder what Middie would think of some Wangan Midnight ^:) On a side note, for some reason I didn't expect there to be any MLP art of the Z cars. Pretty cool.

>>7378 Totally. Though I see the pic more of a hornyjail-quarantine since she was getting super comfy and teasy with Anon. Guess that he's not as strong willed as I suspected to a mare on the prowl.

>>7394 >Christine Kek. Sounds like they had some fun with it. Maximum Midnight cuddles all the while sound super nice. Thanks for the update.

>>7341 >After what feels like another 15 minutes of walking, you reach Dawn’s office. >It was fairly spacious, bathed in sepia light by the lamps inside it. >In one corner there was a simple bed next to a desk that was littered with papers and notebooks, opposite to the bed was a cot surrounded by barren walls. >Dawn hops into the chair by her desk, using the momentum to have it spin to where she’s facing her desk. >Stacks on stacks of paper are shuffled around and moved aside before she finds what she’s looking for. >She levitates the notepad in front of her alongside a pen, before pushing herself around to face us using her front legs, “Rosie, please have a seat on the cot over there.” >Rosie nods, trotting over to the cot before climbing up on it; you sit next to her, your combined weight depressing your mutual sitting arrangement enough to cause her to fall into you. >Damon decides to just lean against the doorframe. >Dawn adjusts her glasses again, glancing at her notes and then up at Rosie, “So you’re been having nightmares?” >“Y-yes,” Rosie replies, meekly. >“Would you mind describing them for me?” >Rosie recalls the first nightmare, how the faces of unfamiliar mares showed up instead of her own reflection, how she reacted and the aftermath of it. >”And what about the rest,” Dawn inquires, “I’ll need as much information as I can to discern and diagnose the issue.” >Rosie looks down at her hooves, she opens her mouth before shutting it again, trying to gather her nerves. You reach over and rub her back, “Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here.” >She looks up at you and you give her a reassuring smile, she takes a deep breath before finally speaking, “My home is ablaze and I am inside. Above the roar of the fire and crackle of burning wood I can hear laughs of murderous glee mixed with blood-curdling screams of fear, pain, and death. I’m looking desperately for my mother and father in the growing inferno. I call out to them, the ash and smoke sting my lungs. A ceiling beam finally gives out from under its own weight and breaks across my back, I wake up screaming.” >You can feel her heartbeat start to pick up in speed, so you start petting her mane. >Dawn finishes writing in her notebook and looks up at Rosie, “Continue.” >“I find myself in my home again, and I’m lying on the ground. I try to stand but I collapse, unable to move my hind legs. I cough as more smoke and ash fills my lungs as I call out to my mother and father again. I drag myself across the ground, my legs feel like…lead weights behind me. Eventually I am just outside of their room, which had been blocked off by wooden debris. I hit it as hard as I can with my front legs, but to no avail. Panicking, I lift myself as much as I can and slam my head into it- once, twice, three, four, five, six times. I keep going until it finally crumbles and I can feel blood pour down my face.” >Her eyes are watery now, so you wrap your arm around her and pull her closer; she leans into you, her heart feels like a jackhammer. >“I-I see them,” she starts choking up, “I see them on the floor and…and…” >She wraps her forelegs around your torso as tight as she can, burying her head into your shoulder where you can feel a growing wetness on your shirt. You pull her into a hug. >After a few minutes, she starts again, “They lay motionless surrounded by red smears, eyes vacant and dull, skin pale. I cry out for someone, it comes out warped so I don’t know who, before I collapse; I feel helpless, tired, any willpower I had left was drained out of me. After what felt like hours I could feel myself growing cold despite the heat around me, my breathing grew slow and heavy, then everything started to blur before being engulfed in a blanket of darkness.”

>>7403 >You rest your head on top of Rosie’s and pet down her spine. She starts to calm down a little, as you can feel her heart slow a bit. >“It feels so real. Even now I am not sure if I actually died and this is some sort of hereafter or if all of these are just bad dreams,” she says, her face still buried in your shoulder. >You turn your head towards Dawn who has a look of what appears to be jealousy on her face, however noticing that you’re looking at her she goes back to her usual detached expression. >She quickly scribbles something into her notepad before levitating it back onto her desk and hopping down to the floor and walking over to Rosie and you, “I think that’s more than enough. Rosie, would you mind looking at me for a moment?” >Rosie does so, only giving a weary, “Hm,” in response. >Dawn’s horn lights up before pressing it against Rosie’s forehead, which causes her to go slack in your arms. Your stomach drops. “What did you just do?!” >She waves a hoof dismissively, “Relax, I just put her to sleep using something my au- I mean Selene taught me. I figured she could use some nice, dreamless sleep for a little bit.” >Begrudgingly you have to admit that Rosie’s heartbeat has gone down to a resting rate. “Could have at least warned us.” >“Perhaps,” she replies, grabbing another notepad off of her desk and tucking a pen behind her ear, “But I have a feeling that what we’ll be discussing next won’t improve her headspace. You could let her lie down on the cot if you want, Damon will watch over her while we talk with Sonata.” >You shake your head. “No offense but I don’t trust you enough for that,” you say, standing as you adjust Rosie so that you could carry her comfortably. >“Fair enough,” she sighs, “Damon, it’s getting late, go ahead and head home for today.” >He gives a little salute, “Aye, aye, captain. Gonna take Fae somewhere nice after this, see you Monday!” >After he leaves, Dawn turns to you, “Let’s head out now, we’ll discuss what I believe is happening on the way there.” >Just what did she have in mind that she thought she would have to knock Rosie unconscious to say? … https://ponepaste.org/4579

>>7401 I think Anon could stand to build a horny mare jail, it would see a lot of use. Thankfully the haircut was a little strike back. Even if Anon didn't really get... the subtext. >>7386 >species barrier Is there? >enjoy She did. Boy, she did. Guess it might have something to do with her neck and ears. I'm not saying she's touch-starved but she's pretty... virginal? Hard to think, right? I didn't plan for things to be so casually lewd but it made me think. Why? For what she's said she believes in, it's not something she would just randomly do. And she hadn't done those things before, just because there wasn't a chance to. It makes me wonder just how bad Lizzy really was, to influence her to the point of believing what is and isn't... normal. I could go on but that'll probably be better if done later.

>>7375 >"See? Isn't this better Mr. A?" "Ah... I guess." >Starsky has talked you into camping out into the living room >For the rest of the week >You brought up the laptop, the blankets and the pillows >It seems so silly >But she did not want to let it go >The only thing that bothers you is that the chair you sat in earlier is still there >At least she hasn't asked about it >It's obvious why it is there >How embarrassing >Dad would probably feel embarrassed on your behalf >And now you're supposed to just sit here like everything's ok? >You feel a hoof rest on your hand >"Mr. A... you angry or something?" "Huh? I'm not..." >You look down at your hand >It's clenched "I'm not mad." >You quickly come up with an excuse >"You sure? You know you can speak up." >Her tone is... different >She's not really in that playful mode >You should feel better >But you feel more agitated >"Hey anon." >Starsky doesn't let you ignore her >"It's not... healthy to stay down there all the time." "I know." >You don't mean to sound so curt >You just don't feel like you should be up here >"Mr. A. Let me ask you something." "Huh?" >She has a serious look on her face >And her mane... >It's really nice >Has she somehow made it even more fluffy? >"Do you like how my mane looks?" >She smiles and sways her head to make her mane go everywhere >It's still so long >That is a really nice shade of purple "Yeah. I do. It really does look great." >"Wanna brush my mane?" "What?" >"Do you... wanna... brush my mane? Mr. A?" >She isn't joking around >You don't think >You don't even know how to react to this >It caught you by surprise so much that you don't even feel anxious "...sure. Alright." >She takes her hoof off of your hand and scoots close >Well this is happening >You set your hand on top of her head >"Thanks, Mr. A. You're really helping me out with this. Since it's all chopped and stuff, I feel kinda out of whack. I really appreciate it." >Is that right? "Uh... yeah. Sure. Don't worry about it?" >This makes you a little uncomfortable >Why? >Maybe it's because she's complimenting you for it >"So what are we watching?" >Huh? >Weren't you both talking about what would be good for the night? "We're... watching That 70s Show." >"Why did you want to choose that?" "Because it's fun." >"Totally. Did you like watching it with your family?" >Your hand falters >"Remember the mane, dude." "...right." >You resume petting "Yeah. I guess we did. It's a pretty silly sitcom, but everyone had their favorites. A lot of their worst situations were pretty... alright. Finding a job. Losing a job. Dealing with relationships, having friends to always hang out with..." >Your hand feels heavy >"That's cool , man. I'm glad we're friends. How about we watch through all of the show while we're out here? It looks super cool on the TV." "...alright. Sure." >Three scenes in and you're laughing like you used to >Of course you didn't grow up in the 70s >You don't think even your grandpa was alive during the 70s

>>7417 >You can't imagine how it would feel to have a group of friends like that >You never had that >You even called your dad Red for a time >Just as a sort of joke >And, as a joke in kind, he would call you Kelso >Starsky giggles at some of the jokes but not all of them seem to hit her as well >"Hey, Mr. A?" >She sounds more relaxed >"Who's your favorite character?" "Leo, man." >"I haven't seen him pop up yet." "Nah. He isn't in all of the episodes. He's an old dude who's really chill. Kinda like your stereotypical stoner." >You clear your throat and bring up your best Leo accent "Far out, man. Just a dude and his pony, watching stuff." >You never were all that good at impersonating Tommy Chong >"Haaa, for real! Bro, you're right on the money." >It's kinda hard to believe that she doesn't know the show well since she sounds kinda like him >"But since he isn't in this episode... who is your favorite?" "In that case?" >"Yeah." "Eric." >You didn't expect yourself to say him >He was the biggest nerd of the group >The group wimp >Frail and proper >Not really all that accurate to who and how you were and are >"Woah... Mr. Clean over there? Why? Did you used to, like, be just some scrawny guy?" "No. I guess... I just like how he always had family. He has his friends. He has his parents. Even his girlfriend's dad eventually warms up to him. And Bob is a real groovy guy." >"Totally see your point there." >She sways her head opposite of your hand, reminding you to keep petting her >"...wanna hear about my family?" >You look to focus on her >She's focusing on the TV "Yeah. There's Lizzy, and..." >The less said about her, the better >"So there's Lizzy. Her mom. Her mom's mom. And her aunt." >Nothing but women? >Guess that fits opposite of how your family was >"So... like, Liz was an only kid. So that's how I popped up, right? But her mom's mom? She was really nice. She... she didn't last too long. She left us pretty early in my life." "It sucks when that happens... when you get older, you realize just how much you missed out on. If you could just have an hour to ask questions." >"Right... super right." >You get the feeling that neither of you are focusing on the show >"So... like, Lizzy's mom. She buries herself in work. And her aunt? Lisa. She comes up and... well, she was really cool too. I wonder if she had an effect on me. Because she? She was a huuuuuge smoker. And, like, the most chill chick in the hen house." "I can see that. Taught you how to groove and hang ten?" >"Haa... something like that. She taught me how to respect. And, like. Not because I'm a pony. She taught me to be really humble. Because even though I could do things Lizzy couldn't, she could do things I couldn't. And we used to actually kinda fight and argue about that. Like how sisters do. Right?" "Naturally." >"And she was around to see that happen. So she would often step in, take me out for a walk and we would just... talk." "What about?"

>>7418 >Starsky replies with a "hur" >"Literally anything and everything, bro. The sun, the stars, the souls both humans and ponies have, weather, the lifespan of trees and what they must see." "That's weird. Why would she bring up stuff like that?" >"I don't know. Ha. Like, Mr. A, she was a super space case. She said that she listened to a guy online that made her start to question everything and ask every sort of question possible." >She leans into your hand "So. Did she ever explain herself? Or did you have to figure out why she would take you out for a walk to talk about space rocks and the power of colors?" >"Naaah... I never had a chance to actually ask her. I... later heard that she had some sort of disease or something. And then... that kinda started to mess with her head." >She sniffles >You look at her >A few tears are collecting around her chin >Her fur seems to be hiding most of it >"But... I think I kinda figured out the method behind the madness, man." "Mm..." >You can't really say anything to her >"She made it look so easy... she was always so chill. So cool. She pretended like she could spit out ice cubes of any size, she was that chill. Whenever Lizzy and I would fight, she would pop up and suddenly we're stuck on why jelly isn't jam. And I think..." >She swallows >"I think that was her way of helping. She always came in to diffuse a situation and we never caught on. It makes me wonder. How much did she really worry? How hardcore did she pay attention to stuff? She looked like she was super sleepy or didn't care. But she really did care. She cared a whole bunch." >The episode ends >Another set of shenanigans, with canned laughter that caps off everything that is actually funny or not "She must have been pretty smart, to always keep an eye open for stuff like that." >"Yeah... she was really the best. Like a talking statue, man." >You lean back in your seat >You activate the leg rest and let it keep rising until the back end starts to go down >You stop when you feel like you're laying at an angle "It must take a lot of skill to be able to take the heat off of big efforts... and to stop certain situations from even popping off." >"Yeah... I sure wish I could be more like her, Mr. A." >Oh Starsky >You really don't want to say anything to her >But you should show her that she is >If what she said is accurate, her aunt has to be pretty proud "Well. I think you're on the right path. But you'll probably be more chill if I can chop that tail short." >Starsky's entire body shivers >"...n-no, that's ok. I can't handle so much change at once, Mr. A." >That... >You understand that entirely "Yeah. Of course... whenever the time comes, right?" >That makes sense >Maybe, when you look at yourself that way... >"...and when I think I can handle you doing whatever you did with my mane." >...what? >What did you do? >You just ruffled it until she got a wild mare look >Oh well >There is still more show to watch

>>7419 A special moment between those two. Having a lap pony sounds pretty nice ^:) But it looks like they'll both be helping each other out. Looking forward to more. Thanks for the update.

>>7422 I think that haircut has spurred her to action. It's a big house, it's going to take a lot of time to effectively reclaim it. I also think those weeks of recovery made her a little stir crazy with being stuck in a concrete box.

I decided I needed more Starla art in my life and our resident artist came through. Enjoy, boys.

>>7430 That is extremely nice, I love it.

>>7430 >image Did her cutie mark peel off just minutes after you opened the package from Dollar General? By the way, I live near a valley with a Dollar General that has a whole My Little Pony bootleg section (I think "My Emaculate Equine" was one of the, yes, for real). If anyone is interested, I will score one for this thread sometime. One of the bootlegs even stole someone's fanart of Princess Celestia and cheaply recolored it last time I was there. The other Dollar General in that valley (yes, it's such a shithole that they have TWO Dollar Generals on the same road) only had some recolored rainbow dash hand sanitizer bottles, but that other one has a whole damn isle dedicated to that shit.

>>7432 Which state is this in? Please get pictures when you can.

>>7433 It's in New York, most people think about the city but don't know most of the state by surface area is poor people living in trailers with confederate flags and junk piles in their lawns. I have to accept this quest now. I will go to location and hopefully have us some bootleg mares within the next week, wish me luck.

>>7430 >Panties >Foreleg socks? What a lewd mare. 10/10 would cuddle

>>7432 Would be cool, we don't get many irl bootleg drops so they're a treat when they're posted. >tfw living in the first world means there's no boots around to take home

>>7435 If you read the green one of Starla's hooves is a pink prosthetic robopart that Teddie made for her. But nothing says she couldn't wear a sock over it.

>>7437 Guess I missed that detail. It's still cute to imagine her wearing socks though.

>>7437 >>7438 It is in fact both of her front legs that are robotic prosthetics. Going back and rereading it - I really don't want to type it out. Kinda makes me feel I'll in retrospect, much like Midnight's origins. Here: ponepaste.org/6024#1421

TrannyJanny has become unhinged. I don't even know what the fuck this is about since there's no actual example but expecting no appeal to work and it's also the first time ever being hit with "spam" as a reason. Let the guys know on /mlp/ that bootleg is probably gunna be kill for a month because of this shit, and might need to use the bunker more regularly and relocate for a while. Either that or we'll have to coordinate crossposting by capping posts from /mlp/ to nhnb back and forth. I'll still be working on stuff in the meantime, but won't be able to bump it or keep any discussion going.

>>7440 What threads do you go to?

>>7440 Sorry to hear that.

>>7441 I don't have any regulars besides bootleg, cyoas and maybe tempo. Barbiefag generals get hidden so it's just whatever grabs me. Like I told reggie I think that some low IQ for free slapped a rangeban on and I got caught in it thus "spam". Annoying and I'll see if I can get it undone with IRC but not holding out any optimism since 4cucks moderation is the worst

>>7446 If you actually got a ban message like that, it's probably not a rangeban. Rangebans will not come up if you go to the ban page and will only show when you go to post. To appeal a rangeban you're supposed to use the site feedback form, though they may just file appeals straight into the garbage. When my mobile ISP got rangebanned a few years ago, I used to send in monthly appeals without getting anywhere. And of course they rangebanned from only /mlp/, can still post on other boards. I've only tried IRC once, but from what other people in there said you've got to get really lucky to get in when there's a mod online otherwise you might be trying for days.

>>7447 Talked to a mod, dumbass thinks I posted on /gif/ and doesnt believe me that I've never used the board. The ban was for some gay YLYL thread that I couldn't give less of a shit about so no reversals. I told him that IPv4s aren't that numerous that everyone on the planet has a unique IP that cant ever be shared, only IPv6 would be like that. But For Frees remain useless cunts, and water is wet.

>>7448 That sucks. Also, do you have a shared IP or something?

>>7449 Maybe? I've been renting bandwidth out, which means theoretically possible that some tard used the connection to shit up /gif/ but been doing that for over a year and never had any issue. So the only option is to wait for the 3 day horseshit and then appeal and act like I was the one who spammed /gif/ because if I tell them I didn't do it again I'm sure the 30day ban will stay. This whole situation is really annoying

I posed this question to the /mlp/ boot, figured I'd ask you guys too. I'm interested to see if anyone else has songs that reminds them of /bootleg/ characters and/or stories. For example, this is my theme song for Condense (the story): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3__QIqzV01Q This song makes me think of Zooma: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfah_Xe62r0

>>7453 Just realized that this song reminds me of Blondie's Missy Pie, mostly from a mood aspect- especially for IF Scenario M: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJRFMfztgBg

>>7453 I know it's kind of a trend(?) of the thread, but I generally don't have any 'theme songs' in mind for bootlegs. But we could try building a playlist for boots per the feel then toss it up in a pastebin or cytube, that could be fun, it's almost like different moods in art.

>>7404 >Man are your legs going to be sore tomorrow, you really should start going on walks again. >Rosie’s still fast asleep in your arms; her head rests on your shoulder, causing her breath to tickle your ear when she exhales. >You have one arm under her rump and the other across her back. “So,” you say, looking at Dawn, “What do you think is going on here?” >“Do you know what my job is, Mr. Chambers?” Shaking your head, you respond, “No, can’t say I do.” >“I play God,” the tone in her voice is not one of arrogance, but bitterness, “I mold their bodies from the ‘ichor’ as Mr. Telmacher calls it, then impart upon them their personalities, their souls.” >She gives a heavy sigh before continuing, “The process isn’t wholly consistent- sometimes the bodies don’t form properly and have to be melted back down before trying again.” “Jesus Christ,” you mutter. >“At that point they’re still little more than soulless husks, so they feel nothing. Still…I would be lying if I said that I didn’t find the sight of them sinking back into the ichor unnerving.” “Well if you make them, who made you?” >“Telmacher himself,” she replies, “He made me for this purpose and nothing else. Just as he did with Sonata.” “Sonata’s a pony too?” >Dawn nods, “You’ll see soon enough, but back to the point- While the process is inconsistent, one this is: and that’s me. I don't make mistakes, I follow the procedure as I was taught and fulfill orders down to the letter.” You had a suspicion about Sonata, but it’s nice to have some confirmation. You arch an eyebrow at her statement however, “How are you so certain this isn’t just your first screw-up?” >“Because if I made a mistake with her then I made a mistake with every other pony I’ve made.” “So what exactly is going on then?” >“According to my hypothesis, Rosie shouldn’t exist-” “Choose your next words carefully,” you interject, making no effort to mask the venom in your voice. >At least you understand why she didn’t want Rosie to be awake for this now. >“As I was saying,” she continues, undeterred, “Rosie isn’t the personality I put in that body; I put Candy Quartz, and approximate amalgam of Pinkie, Marble, Maud, and Limestone Pie, in there- not ‘Rosie Rock’.” >She stops and starts tapping her chin with her hoof, “It’s a bit pseudo-science but I think her nightmares might be memories of wherever she’s actually from being weaponized by Cloudy Quartz’s consciousness in a sort of psychic immune response- since Cloudy Quartz is a nascent mind and has no memories, she attacks with what is there; or it could be that Rosie’s mind is just trying to make sense of her death and subsequent resurrection…maybe a mix of the two, maybe neither, I’m not sure.” “Well is there anything you can do about it- maybe separate the two and put Cloudy Quartz in another body?” >Dawn shakes her head solemnly, “Unfortunately something like that is beyond my capabilities at the moment, maybe I could after some help from Selene but the only thing I could do now would be to erase the two of them and start from scratch.” “Absolutely not, that is out of the question,” you say, firmly. >You don’t think your heart could survive something like that happening again. >“Of course it isn’t,” she snaps, “despite what you think I’m not callous and heartless. Do you really think I’d be so cruel as to effectively kill what I consider two of my own daughters!?” >You have no response as something clicks in your head, so she continues, “It’s so much easier to pretend to be detached than to face the fact that I’ll never see the ponies I bring into this world again! That I can never see them grow and to love because I’m stuck in this…prison!” >Tears begin to run down her face, “Damon and Fae, Magdalene and Selene, Abraham and mom, they all have each other. I’m stuck here with Sonata, who’s too…insouciant and lascivious to care about how we’re trapped in this damn factory.” >She buries her head between her hooves, “Sometimes I wish I could just disappear, leave this all behind and just…”

>>7460 >She doesn’t finish the sentence, instead just staying silent. >You adjust Rosie so you can hold her up with one hand before crouching and placing your hand on Dawn’s mane. >As you start petting she murmurs, “What are you doing?” “Trying to make you feel better, figured if it worked for Rosie it’d work for you,” you say, “Also I wanted to apologize for being so…antagonistic.” >She lifts her head, her eyes are still red and puffy but she’s no longer crying, “Why?” “I treated you unfairly because of what someone else did to me, and I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m sorry.” >Wiping her eyes with her sleeve before sniffling, she replies, “Thanks.” >The two of you spend a few more minutes in silence as she closes her eyes to let herself enjoy your ministrations. Unfortunately for her Rosie isn’t exactly a lightweight and your arm strength isn’t what it used to be so you pull your hand back to make sure your hold on Rosie doesn’t slip, causing Dawn to lean into your hand to get a few more fleeting moments of your touch. >Adjusting her glasses, she says, “Sorry, this was all rather unprofessional, so let’s just pretend this didn’t happen and go finally see Sonata.” You nod as you both start walking again before saying, “Hey, so…” >“Yes?” she says, turning her head to look at you. “I could give you my number before we leave, in case you just need to vent to someone or if something happens to Rosie. I also have a guest room that we aren’t using, so maybe if you can get it approved with Mr. Telmacher or whoever, you can even come over on the weekends or something and just decompress.” >Her ears fold back against her head, “I wouldn’t want to impose…” “It’s the least I can do if you’re going to help Rosie.” >“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” she responds, ears perking back up. >With that, the two of you continue in silence. >You’re guessing it shouldn’t be too long before you reach Sonata’s office now. …

>>7461 https://ponepaste.org/4579 I think this is the longest thing I've ever written at this point.

>>7459 Funny enough I did that with Jacky during the first year, then made a year two playlist. I think that had a hand in looking for songs that fit characters and even certain situations.

>>7453 Latest update of Starsky kind of made me think of https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwnDsKZuAn8 (time for change)

We're listening to tunes and hanging out if anyone wants to join in. https://w2g.tv/h4rf8g4lk8en9n6pvv

What happened to the MLD anon that was writing the bootleg cozy glow green?

>>7436 >>7432 Bootleg mare hunting update: I scouted both locations and did not find anything substantial. What's in stock shifts so the stolen fanart looking one from last time is not there anymore. They just had two generic knockoff toys this time: "Family Horse Playset" and "Pony Imagination Kingdom" I'm completely sure of the name of the first one but the second one I may have garbled, and it's pointless to distinguish between all of these generic knockoff three word names because they don't even have trademarks behind them half the time. Knockoff ponies don't count as bootleg ponies so I didn't buy any. No copyright infringement no fun :( I did notice something mildly amusing though, there are still official G3 birthday cards being sold. I will keep my eyes out. Maybe I will even get super lucky and find a particularly awful bootleg like one with Pokehidden art on the box or something. BTW one of the locations is so dinge that they have a porta potty out front because there is no bathroom.

>>7476 >Bootleg mare hunting Mmmmm... hunt harder, bootdaddy. >there are still official G3 birthday cards being sold It's weird that G3 stuff can still be found out in the wild. >portashitter in lieu of bathroom I'd advise you against returning to that location, lest you wake up in the parking lot missing a kidney.

>>7394 >It's been almost a week since you gave the go-ahead for a project car of Midnight's choosing. >The idea has become a source of excitement for you, looking forward to the future. >But... >Almost a week has gone by, and Midnight has been mum on the subject. >Not a single suggestion. >Now, she has continued to peer out the passenger window while both of you drive around the yard and pull parts. >But again - no signs of interest from her. > It's honestly starting to bother you a bit. >Less about the car, and more about Midnight. >If only because you saw how excited she was when you agreed. >Where did that excitement go? >Saturday morning feels like the right time to start asking questions and pick her brain to sate your own curiosity. >Today is that day. >While both of you are being lazy on the couch. >Because why not? "Whatcha doin?" you ask as you glance over to Midnight. >"Listening to you ask me what I'm doing," she drones, her face buried in the laptop as usual. "What were you doing before that?" >"Checking orders." >You lean over so you're resting on her barrel. "It's Saturday." >"Very astute observation, dumbshit." "Aww, now I have to come up with a cute pet name for you too." >Midnight doesn't say anything, but she's trying hard not to smirk at that. >Before she fails, her wing abruptly opens and swats you back. >You yield for the time being - though as soon as her appendage is neatly folded back, you're up against her again. >"You don't learn, do you?" "No, I don't. Hit me again, mistress." >Midnight slowly turns her head, looking at you with disgust and concern. "Too far?" >"What is wrong with you?" "Well it is Saturday, so if you want me to spend the time, I can tell you everything." >"I'll pass, Anon." "No one ever wants to hear my problems," you pout. >You give it a few moments of Midnight reading through items on her screen before you speak up again. "Anything of interest car-wise or part-wise?" you ask, hopeful to hear a reaction from something she lists. >"Not too much. Taillight housings for a '63 Galaxie, tail panel trim for a '68 Dart GTS... a hood tachometer housing for a '70 Rebel Machine?" she finishes, turning to you for clarification. "AMC Rebel Machine. One year only car - patriotic as hell, and rare as hell. I doubt I have that." >"Anyway - bumpers for a Buick Wildcat, door window glass for a Pontiac Lemans, et cetera, et cetera." >Nothing other than the single instance of further clarity from you - no real excitement. >Damn. >"What's your issue all of a sudden?" she asks calmly, looking you up and down. >Maybe you made a face. >Or some reflexive movement that she sensed. >Who knows. "I guess I'm just sort of shocked you haven't settled on a project car, Midnight," you admit reluctantly. "By no means am I pressuring you to decide, but with how excited you were with the prospect - haven't heard anything since."

>>7485 >"Well color me surprised," Midnight answers, closing her laptop with a hoof to focus squarely upon you. "Do you take me for someone that rash when it comes to decisions?" "Not really, I guess. I don't know - never gave it a thought." >"Okay - I'm not, not about something like this," she replies. "You gave me the stipulations of something we can find parts for and something that isn't a basket case. My biggest decision amongst that is finding something... right." "Right?" >Midnight purses her lips as she sits and ponders an explanation. >As the lightbulb in her head lights up, so to do her eyes - in a figurative sense. >"What's your favorite car of all time?" >That question is like getting hammered in the gut. "Whoa whoa whoa - you can't spring a question like that and expect an answer right away, Middie," you caution her. >"Oh? Why not?" she retorts with a lick of sarcasm and innocence dashed in her voice. "That is something that requires a lot of soul-searching and thought to answer - if it is even possible at all," you wax with a flair of drama. >"Alright, dramatics aside - I'm doing the same thing. I don't know what I want for sure. But I want something that fits me in a sense." "And you haven't found that particular something that just vibes with you," you add, beginning to understand her predicament. >"Yes, exactly." >You have your answer now, but you still don't feel very satisfied. "Is there a certain kind of car you're looking for? Some sort of attribute that I can sort of work with to help, or is it just having to see it to know?" >Midnight's face contorts once again as she mulls what you've thrown out there for her. >In the meantime, you sit up and pet her side, fixing the errant fur where you were leaning against her. >"Well first off, it's gotta have some guts to it," she states matter-of-factly. "Of course - I'm not putting something together that's all show and no go," you comment in agreement. "But let's not go overkill, either." >"What's 'overkill' in your definition?" she inquires, her mischievous grin growing wide enough to display her fangs. "It should be something streetable. I don't want something that is miserable to drive around town or idles like shit because of a hot cam." >"Psh. Pussy." "Believe me when I say you'll thank me for that boundary - been around enough to know unless you're drag racing or trying to win a dick-measuring contest, you can't completely sacrifice drivability. But that's stuff we can hammer out later in any car - either aftermarket parts or an engine swap. We got plenty of engines laying around." >"All right, point taken. That doesn't do much narrowing down then," she concedes reluctantly. >As you wait for her next thought, you start fucking around with her hair - twisting it and twirling it around. >"You're going to fix that later." "Maybe. I want to see how stupid I can make your hair look. You have so much of it." >"You suggesting I should cut it?" >You can only offer a shrug.

>>7486 "I wouldn't go overboard. I like your long hair. Maybe a trim? That's up to you." >"Hm. Maybe." "What else are you looking for in a car?" >"Something good-looking. And at least a little comfortable. I don't want to feel cramped inside of it." "Like a full-size car - a land yacht?" >"Ehhh... maybe not that big," she backs off. "But you don't want a Dart or a Nova." >"Nope. Add any pony car to that list." "Aww, but then I can't make any lame 'pony in your pony car' jokes." >"Even better," Midnight cheerfully responds. "So basically midsize and up, comfortable, and something that offers a good kick when you mash it." >"Yes. And something stylish, something as good looking as me," she crows with cockiness. "So why are we even trying then?" >The comment causes Midnight to snap directly to you with a glare. >"What?" "We sure as shit ain't finding something as good looking as you. Chill." >Midnight opens her mouth to respond before her jolt of anger subsides as the comment finally registers. "I think that's the first time you ever referred to yourself as good looking, rather than disparaging," you say with a grin, reaching over and scratching an ear. >Midnight's muzzle scrunches up, unable to figure out any sort of reply. >"We're talking about cars, Anon." >You sigh. "Fine, be that way." >With both hands, you quickly ruffle up her hair and mane, making it worse than the traditional bedhead she wakes up with every morning. >"Seriously?" she asks, mildly annoyed. "You look crazy now." >"I *am* crazy to deal with you every day." "Is that really so bad?" >"... it's tolerable." "So you like it." >Midnight's wing opens up again, this time reaching up to your head with the tip of her primary feathers. >She swirls it around, apparently hoping to mess up your hair as bad as hers. >It doesn't really work, considering your short cut. >But damn, it feels relaxing feeling the soft plumage graze your head. >>You let out an exaggerated content sigh, complete with a dumb smile. >"Bastard," she grumbles. "That was a nice scalp massage, though. I could get used to this." >Midnight's wing whaps you in the face before retracting. "That's abuse." >"Shaddup, stupid." "Alright. So what do you want to do today?" >Midnight lazily shrugs. >"It's been a long week. Do we need to do anything?" "No, not really. You just want to lounge around on the couch all day?" >"Why not?" "...eh, screw it. You talked me into it. I'm surprised you're learning to be a lazy ass." >"I'm full of surprises. But it's not being a lazy ass if I busted my ass all week." "I can go with that argument. Now, entertain me," you playfully demand, laying over on your side and using Midnight as a pillow again. -----

>>7484 And if Omichan can be a bootleg, then so can Nato, the fake Alicorn.

>>7492 Very pretty. Good work.

>>7418 What are some things that Star could do that Lizzy counldn't? Hard to think of anything when one has thumbs and bipedal

>>7487 Sounds like they're having fun. I have a feeling Anon's going to be bugging her more about the car the longer she waits. Maybe not intentionally, but I think his curiosity will get the better of him. Am very curious myself to see what she actually picks. When it does come time to start on the project, Anon's probably going to have to pull her away from it at night with how focused she can get on things. I wonder what suprises she'll have for Anon along the way. Thanks for another update Auto.

>>7498 Talking to people comes to mind. But she's proven herself to be pretty adept with tech too. Given it's more the world of tomorrow than today, a lot of things are going to be made with further accessibility as a focus. I'm kinda curious what sort of dynamic they had, before Lizzy ended up going down her path. One hand/hoof washed the other so they were probably complimentary.

This is my first attempt at a greentext; I hope it fits in OK because the concept is a little out there and I don't want to overdo it in a way that's distasteful. It's supposed to be funny. You can post it on 4niggers if you want, I have no intention of using that site. >be anon's roommate >go to the fridge for some pickles >severedhead.png "Hi anon!... Oh, it's YOU. Bitch ass faggot nigger retard, you want to use the fridge? Why don't you fucking kill yourself." >have had to put up with this bullshit for three weeks >finally decide to confront anon

>>7511 >be anon 4 weeks ago >ordered extra large fluttershy from ebay >should have checked url more closely >some assembly required >they are shipping the body parts in separate installments >stitches not included >wait 5 days >legs arrive from eswatini >to keep them from decaying you put them in the fridge wait 2 days >head arrives >it's not fluttershy's head >the eyes ar "Hey hey hey! Whazzzzzzzzup!?" >? "I'm buttershy, what's your name?" >"Uh, I'm anon" >never seen a tal "Anon! Anon anon anon!" >"can you please sto..." "YO WHAZZZZZZUP!? Want to hear a joke? How many electricians does it take to change a lightbulb?" >"quiet down a lit..." "They can't! They are UNION ELECTRICIONS! HA HA! Get it?" >take some fabric and gag buttershy >the muffled mumbling is still obnoxious but at least now you have time to process what is going on >it's definitely not fluttershy's head >the eyes are sharp and bold looking >there are cutie marks on her cheeks >one of the ears is missing >her coat is an off shade >her mane is red instead of pink >she sees that you are relaxed and relaxes a little herself >take off the gag "I'm sorry anon, I have a way of getting too exited when I see someone new" >feel sorry for her >"It's OK Buttershy, I have my own problems that lead me here too. We could help each other to solve them" "Thank you anon, nopony understood me before, they always hated me because I am annoying" >notice that she is crying >reach out to embrace her "Thank you" >she feels better in your arms >"I already got your legs in the mail, but they have not shipped me the torso yet so I can't put you together. In the meantime you can live in my fridge" >tendermoment.mp3 >your roommate bursts in and sees you holding buttershy's head >the fucking loser >when you told him that fluttershy is the best pony he called you stupid and said that rarity is better >he starts screaming at you about being a moron for ordering a bootleg from eswatini

>>7512 >3 weeks pass >the torso is lost in shipping >you will never be able to assemble buttershy >you are almost ready to comit suicide because life is not worth living >suddenly your roommate bursts in >he is screaming autistically about how he can't stand getting insulted by the severed head in the fridge >"But we can't remove her from the fridge! If we did that it would kill her!" >wait a sec >kill >kill two birds with one stone >kill your asshole roommate >harvest a healthy torso for buttershy "If you don't take her head out of my fridge, I will do it myself!" >"Fuck you you cuck shithead nigger kike I'd rather just fucking kill you because you suck" "You can't do that! I have a lawyer! My estate will sue you! Blah blah blah!" >gunshot.mp3 >your roommate is dead >go to work removing unnecessary limbs >save higher quality cuts for bbq >throw away the rest >sew on buttershy's legs and head >imperfect though she may be she is finally able to move around "Oh, thank you so much anon! Hey hey hey! Whazzzzz..." >"Shhh" "Oh, sorry, got a little carried away there" >still offput by the human torso >it's only temporary >resolve to harvest a real pony torso so that buttershy can reach final form If I get good reception I will make part two.

>>7513 A bit unusual, but it's alright. A good fit for a short comedy greentext. I think it does need a part two though to feel complete. Maybe mailman shows up with the right body and then the two of them have to make a run for it from the cops?

>>7511 >"Hi anon!... Oh, it's YOU. Bitch ass faggot nigger retard, you want to use the fridge? Why don't you fucking kill yourself." Damn that's one way to make a first post. >>7513 Did Dr. Anon just make a bootleg B&nthro? I'm curious where you'd go from here if you have more in mind. Murderhobo Anon is not of sound mind, where would he get a real pony torso? >>7511 >This is my first attempt at a greentext; I hope it fits in OK because the concept is a little out there and I don't want to overdo it in a way that's distasteful. A bit nostolgic for when shitpost greens were a thing like a bootleg Twiglight with the chainsaw. Its a little rushed for the jokes, but very unique with a pony missing a torso, with all the possibilties of bodypart misadventures Buttershy is kind of like Racer.

>>7516 >Did Dr. Anon just make a bootleg B&nthro? That's the element I was most worried about. I don't like it completely, but I also needed a way to comedically work in the roommate murder that made some sense. I don't think it violates the rules in this context because of the intent and it's not bipedal, also no image. I think of it more as Frankenstein shit. If the mods disagree, I will defer to them. I like this place and don't want to post bad stuff. And don't worry, no snuggling will happen until anon gets Buttershy a real pony torso, it really is just so she can walk around and stop being a severed head in the fridge. I will post part two in an hour or two.

>>7492 More natopono, beware the goopone

>>7513 >>7515 >>7516 Allright, it's time for closure so here is part two: >be buttershy >anon has given you a torso so you can move >anon seems very concerned with getting you a better torso >anon works tirelessly to make money >anon is very nice to you >many days have passed like this >you hear knocking on the door "Detroit Police Department, open up!"

>>7522 >be anon >copperfags are knocking on your door >buttershy does not know what is going on >tell her that she needs to go with what you say >she seems concerned with the urgency of your tone >"Come in officers, make yourself at home" >the police enter "We are here because your roommate, Richard C. Mann, has not attended his job in a month. Do you have information pertaining to his whereabouts?" >the officers notice buttershy "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!? Anon, you are under arrest!" >"Hold on officer, I can explain!" "You can explain it to Tyrone in the shower when your behind bars!" >"I will call the rest of the LGBTQICWOQHWICPFAPCWBQIUQWIUCIQI+ community if you do this! You will pay!" >The cops stand like statues and listen >"My roommate is an otherkin and asked me to convert him in to a female pony, his true identity. If you arrest me, my people will burn the city down" >The cops move out of the room >you can make out their discussion "We can't just let him get away with this" "But if we arrest him, we will lose our jobs. You know the political climate out there!" >one of the cops lets out a deep sigh and there are a few moments of silence "Fine, we will let him go. I can't believe what our department has become" >the cops enter the room >buttershy tells them that she is happier being a pony >the one cop looks like he is going to lose it >the other quickly tries to resolve the situation so it won't go further "We were sent here to find Richard C. Mann, and it appears that all is well. Just let me write this down, and we will be on our way" >a few tense moments pass >the cops leave >you have already saved enough money to purchase a real fluttershy and ordered her >she is set to arrive tomorrow

>>7523 >be fluttershy >someone opens the top of your box >cower away in the corner "Hi Fluttershy, my name is anon" "Hey hey hey, whaaaaazzzup!?" >your heart stops for a sew seconds >you see a grotesque version of yourself with horribly off facial features grafted onto a human torso >you want to die >anon picks you up "This is my friend Buttershy, she needs a new body" >you are too paralyzed with fear to run "Don't worry, you only need to host her head, I won't remove yours" >"Bu-but... why? I'm the real Fluttershy, not that... thing. Why are you doing this?" "Because... BECAUSE I LOVE HER! And I love you too, and I need you both!" >anon ties you down to the counter >anon removes buttershy's head which stays alive >how can she survive without a body? >anon is stitching her head on next to yours >anon has disconnected your brainstem and transferred control to buttershy >your body moves without input from you >your heart still beats >you still breathe >buttershy is in control >anon unties you >you stand and step off the counter >anon looks delighted "Now that you both have one body, I shall call you Flutterbutter" >"But... it's not my body anymore..." >anon looks sad "I could add a switch so that either brainstem can be connected at any given time" >you don't have much choice >at least now your freedom won't be completely removed

>>7524 >be anon >got the parts to make a brainstem switch >fluttershy is much happier after you install it >fluttershy even seems to be taking a liking to you >must be stockholm syndrome >after you give fluttershy's head control she comes closer to you >snuggle flutterbutter >she is imperfect >you would not want her any other way "Anon, I love you, but it's hard having two heads" "I'm just so... shy, and Buttershy is so extroverted, it's awkward having to meet people with her in control of my body" >comfort her by rubbing your head on her neck >"Now now Fluttershy, Buttershy is a very nice pony, she means well and does not want to make you uncomfortable, she just can't help it" "Yes Fluttershy, I am sorry that I can get overexcited... it's what makes life hard for me" "Well, life is hard for me for the opposite reason. I just... can't talk when I meet new people" >"Flutterbutter, I hope both of you can come to terms with these things. For now let's celebrate the brain switch, I got some alphalpha!" >go to the kitchen >flutterbutter's heads are talking and getting to know each other better >it's cute seeing both of the mares you love getting along >warm up some water for the alphalpha >throw in some pepermints too >cook yourself some prime cuts of your roommate >"Alright, we got a meal!" >flutterbutter walks into the kitchen >give her the alphalpha >one bowl for each head >break out the shampagne >"To health!" "To health, yeah!" "To health" >fluttershy's head blushes >she really does love you too Well, that does it for part two. I'd imagine that anon still needs to move to Argentina or something because his excuse won't keep the law away forever. Also there needs to be development between the heads and their relationship with each other. I could expand on it in a part three but I'm not really good at writing dialogue. >"Anon, I love you, but it's hard having two heads" Case in point. If anyone likes the ideas that this premise sets up they can expand on them, it could be really cool to see Flutterbutter be explored more. I'm going to quit while I'm ahead at this point because all of the shock humor is dried up now, and the only way this can go is a more serious route.

>>7487 >"Anon, you got a moment?" >Squinting as you pull your head out of the dim engine bay to brace for the bright desert sun, Midnight stand off to your right, directing in front of the car you're wrenching on. "I can make time. What's up?" >"...I'm having issues, and before I end up ruining something or lose my temper, I figured I should ask you." >Despite her hesitance, Midnight's honesty gets a smile out of you. >It wasn't that long ago she would have let her temper and impatience take over rather than seek advice. "Lead the way." >Midnight sets off at a decent trot, making you take steps at a rather brisk pace to keep up with her. >Okay, so her impatience isn't completely gone... >Or maybe it's excitement. >Nonetheless, it's only a dozen cars down the row and across the aisle before she stops and circles around back of a low-slung blue coupe. >Well, well, well. >It's a Chevy Corvair - second gen. >You join Midnight at the rear of the car - where the engine is. >"Am I crazy, or is the intake on this thing part of the cylinder head?" she asks, pointing a hoof down into the dirty, dingy engine bay. >You honestly don't know the answer offhand - meaning you poke your head in and get a closer look. >You know these flat-six boxer engines are air-cooled, so the head should be aluminum... >And it is. >You also see where she's unbolted the top set of fasteners that hold the head to the cylinders themselves. >But that has nothing to do with the intake... >You don't see any sort of seam where the stained aluminum runner separates from the head. >And no other bolt heads or holes, aside from where the carburetor mounts. "You are crazy, but that's a solid piece, Middie," you say as you rise back up out of the rather cramped space. >Midnight shakes her head as she snorts. >"So do we chalk that order up to someone that doesn't have a fuck what they're doing?" she responds with mild frustration. "The order specifically said the intake - no head or anything else." "Well, if you really feel adventurous, you can try taking the head off now. But yeah, we're gonna have to ask for clarification on that one." >"If I'm feeling adventurous, huh?" >You shrug, looking around at the engine again. >Knowing little to jack squat, you're more or less trying to gauge how much work it would be to pull it and have it handy in the shop. >Well, there's not much room side to side - might have to come out of the bottom. >The exhaust is underneath, too... >And you aren't seeing any timing covers up front, either. >It may not even be an overhead cam. "I think it's more trouble than it would be worth right now - I think it's a pushrod engine," you announce, turning to her. >Midnight's nose instantly wrinkles at that revelation. >"In other words, take the valve cover off to take off the rocker arms and pushrods as well as your standard fare of bullshit. I'll pass." "I figured as much, but who am I to judge if you had a wild hair up your ass?"

>>7530 >"What was the point of this, anyway - a cheap sports car, I assume?" >You scratch your head as Midnight gathers up her tools and closes the rear decklid. "I don't think that was the original intention, believe it or not. When Chevy first came out with the Corvair, it was touted as a compact economy car - like the Volkswagen Beetle. And that's what the engineering and design teams leaned toward - something that would stand out, rather than just a normal small car like Ford and Chrysler did." >"By the sounds of it, you like them." "They have a certain charm, particularly the second generation," you reply, patting the weather-beaten fender of the car in question. "I don't know exactly when or why, but at some point, Chevy came out with the Nova - well, Chevy II when it first came out - and that was their economy car, and moved this to something more sport-oriented as far as advertising. But there were wagons and light pickups based on this chassis design, too." >Midnight glances around at different aspects and angles of the car with uncertainty. "Thinking about this as a project?" you ask with a grin. >In reality, it's in relatively good shape, and at a glance, looks quite complete. >Certainly would be interesting to work on. >But Midnight shakes her head, extinguishing any excitement that had begun to build. >"I'm not a fan - I think it's fuck ugly. And if it's air-cooled, probably not a lot of power. So much for having any balls." "Really? The Porsche 911 would like to disagree with you." >"Point, but no," she reiterates. "If this was such a good car, why don't they make anything like this nowadays?" "Same as most failed GM products - bad press and questionable decisions." >You leave it at that and start to walk away, knowing full well what you're doing. >"Asshole, that doesn't explain anything!" Midnight barks at you from behind. >You whirl back around, having only made it a few steps. "Well, that's the truth of it. What else should I say?" you reply, unable to prevent a shit-eating grin from crossing your face. >"I want the full rundown." "You mean another storytime about shitbox cars? Albeit not a shitbox this time?" >"Stop being a queer," she laments with a roll of her eyes. "Only a kiss from you can save me from the clutches of faggotry, Middie." >"I doubt that," she retorts as she trots up to you, meeting with a pucker of her lips as you bend down and smooch her. "Anyway, the second generation didn't have an issue, but the damage was done by what happened with the first-gen. Having an engine in the ass end like that makes for much different handling qualities than your run-of-the-mill front-engined car." >"So people didn't know what to expect, or what?"

>>7531 "A little bit of that. The issue is the first gen's rear suspension - swing axles. It's the same thing the Beetle uses, but we're talking about a heavier car here. And the thing with that kind of axle is it has massive amounts of camber change because the drive axle itself is only jointed where it goes into the trans, not the wheel. So you lose contact patch of the tire in situations where you're turning or hitting the brakes - or even bumps in the road. Makes the ass end want to come around when weight starts shifting." >"And you're telling me the chucklefucks in charge of designing that didn't know?" >You can't help but let a small laugh escape. "Oh, they did, and the simple solution would be a front sway bar to counteract the issue. But the bean counters said that would not be cost-effective, so it was eliminated in favor of tire pressure differences between front and rear - which works, if people paid attention to the owner's manual." >"Why is this one different, then?" Midnight inquires, pointing a hoof to the old blue coupe. >"Second generation went to fully independent rear suspension, similar to the Corvette's setup. Before that, GM made the front sway bar standard at some point in the first-gen." >You pause a moment as you decide how best to continue. >"But, to be honest, the problems were kinda exaggerated by some dick that wanted to sell a book. Guy was right about the omission of the front sway bar for cost reasons, but these things weren't out on the road endangering everyone's lives." >"In other words, there really isn't anything wrong with them." "Not really, no. They weren't much worse than any other car, even taking those handling quirks into account." >Midnight shakes her head, trudging forward to the car you had previously been working on with you right beside her. >"Humans have to be some of the dumbest fucking creatures on earth," she mutters as you follow her. "Yeah, in some ways. But let me remind you that I fall into the category of human." >"Oh, I'm *well* aware of that fact, Anon," she replies with a grin. "I figured as much." >"Anyway, what are you working on?" she asks as you resume your earlier position under the hood of a Buick. "Taking a stubborn intake manifold off of this car. Let me reiterate that I don't give you shit jobs," you say, pointing the end of a ratchet to two bolt heads snapped clean off, now lying on the radiator support. >"Well, I picked my own out today, so I can't blame you if I wanted to," Midnight calmly replies. "Oh yeah. I honestly forgot about that." >There's a pause in the conversation as you strain on the next intake bolt - which eases itself loose, bit by bit. >"All things considered, do you really think a car like that Corvair would have made it far in terms of production beyond... well, whenever they stopped?"

>>7532 "It's an interesting question to consider. But honestly - probably not," you admit. "There's a lot that's unique just to that car, and once the seventies rolled around and everyone was struggling for sales - hell, you see how much badge-engineered crap GM made in the eighties. I think it would have been axed sooner or later. But it's a neat little footnote in history." >"Fair enough. But another question for you." "Shoot." >"Are you going to pester me with the notion of every car I have questions about being a possible project car?" >You look up, finding Midnight staring at you knowingly. "Sorry. Really not trying to be annoying, but you're also taking more time than I expected," you admit. >"Well, there is a little bit of fun watching you squirm over this," she cackles. "Midnight, you already do that to me every time I watch you walk away." >"...what?" "Hm?" >Midnight looks confounded by your remark, her brow raised while you go back to working on the intake. >"You're awful," she sputters after a time. "I'm going to get something else done and leave you with your sick mind." "Okay, lemme know if you need anything." >"I hope not." >As Midnight walks away, you look up to see a more pronounced sway of her hips than normal. >Huh... >At that moment, she turns her head and narrows her eyes at you. >"It's gonna be hard to get shit done when you aren't watching what you're doing, dumbass!" she taunts. >Is... she teasing you? >It seems like it. >You might have just created a monster. "Gonna be hard for you to get parts pulled when you're lollygagging!" >With that, Midnight gallops off down the path, leaving you to wonder where things exactly stand between you two... >Goddammit. >Leaning over the fender just got difficult and uncomfortable. >Stupid sexy Midnight. -----

>>7492 >>7521 Why is NATO represented as goo/slimepone? I'm interested in what the reasoning is behind that.

>>7525 Kek at the cops. Also, that is some Jekyll and Hyde stuff going on with Flutterbutter there. >>7533 Maybe project car? Maybe not? But it's nice to see these little bits of affection between the two, even just a quick kiss. Thanks for the update.

>>7548 [spoiler]What all does that mean as far as doing things?

>>7550 Typically occasionally removing spam posts and sometimes discussing site operation. Basically what you'd expect.

>>7534 How familiar are you with NATO? There's much more symbolic meaning to NATO being a slimecorn if you know the history

>>7533 "I'd say that went pretty smooth, how about you?" >"There weren't any frightened kids or arguments in the parking lot, so I'll agree with that." >You set off for home after an uneventful trip to the grocery store this morning. >Midnight wanted to give it another go, having finally put to rest the sour taste left in her mouth by the first trip once upon a time. "I still can't get over that old lady commenting how cute you were in the deli section," you remind Midnight with a shit-eating grin. >"Yeah, she must have been blind, because I don't do cute," Midnight huffs, the relaxed smile she's been sporting all morning diminishing just a bit with your comment. "You're just so cute when you're grumpy!" you babble, reaching over and pinching her cheek. >"Hey - watch the road, you retard!" she snaps, flailing a foreleg to knock your arm away. "Midnight, I can drive home blindfolded. It's muscle memory at this point." >"Really?" she asks, eyes widening. "Well, not really. But close." >"Not close enough, because you just missed our turn." >You look in the mirror to see the familiar dilapidated shanty at the intersection getting smaller in the distance. "Fuck." >"I don't feel sorry for you," Midnight interjects, turning her nose up at you. "You're screwed out here if we get lost in the desert if I am, Middie." >"If you get lost when all we have to do is turn around or use your phone, I'll be impressed," she answers back, lowering her sightline back to you. "Besides the fact, I can leave your ass and just fly home." "You know, I haven't seen you actually fly yet - can you really do it?" you ask, genuinely curious. >There was that day after Midnight got smashed that she used her wings to glide from the top of the stairs down to the shop floor, but that's it. >"Just as any bot with wings can, yes," she calmly asserts. "Now, to be fair, it's been a while since I've done it, but you don't forget something like that. As I've said before - it takes a lot of energy - and it's counterintuitive when you're trying to lay low and not be seen." "You don't have to lay low anymore - at least not at home." >"True - I may just decide to prove it to you sometime soon," she says, looking quite smug. >She raises a hoof, pointing ahead to the right as her eyes are drawn to the road. >"There's another turn right here." >You see the sign denoting the road and start slowing down, only visually spotting the asphalt amidst the flat landscape of copper sand when you're practically turning onto it. "Sure hope you know what you're doing, captain," you say, staring forward and saluting. >"What's the worst that can happen?" "The Hills Have Eyes." >"...what?" "Don't worry about it." >The road is little more than a cracked run of pavement over an old cow path, making you basically run in the middle of the road. >In reality, you aren't concerned for your well-being - but you don't know if you've ever bothered to go down this road.

>>7557 >More than likely, you'll end up turning off to the right again and end up on the road you meant to turn on in the first place - it's just a matter of how far you gotta go. >... you could just hang a u-turn, but what's the fun in that? >Backtracking is admitting defeat. >But neither of you say much as cacti and scrub brush pass by on either side, both of you keeping a lookout for the next road. >"Think that house is abandoned?" Midnight asks as a tired old shack pops up from the horizon in the distance, on the right side of the road. "I dunno. Might be a hermit - you feeling social?" >"Not particularly." >When you get closer to the property, you see junk scattered around the house and an old garage that looks to be on its last legs in the desert sun. >Closer to the road, a few cars and a tractor sit in the sand. >You slow down just a bit in curiosity as you get ready to drive by. >Either the individual that lives here is a crazy packrat, or this is an abandoned property used for dumping shit no one wants. >Weird. >"Anon, wait!" "What?" >"I want to look at that!" "Midnight, we got frozen food and other cold shit in the back, I'm already kinda pushing my luck taking the long way home," you remind her. "It's probably all junk anyway." >"It will be fine - just stop," she instructs, pointing to the row of vehicles. >With a sigh, you do so, unsure whether this is a good idea. >If someone lives here, they could legit be crazy - and there's no 'for sale' signs out. >As you put the truck in park, Midnight practically bolts from the passenger seat, running over to a... >Actually, what is that? >Your own curiosity now driving your motions, you step out of the truck and wander to where Midnight is circling around. >It's something from the fifties, you know that much, just by the panoramic windshield and the general shape. >As you get closer to the dust-covered car, you can finally make out the letters spaced out along the hood's leading edge. >They offer a glint of chrome upon a dark blue-gray paint - more than likely a severely weather-faded black. >It's an old Chrysler. >Oddly, the windows are opaque, the glass backed by something yellowed white on every corner. >Also, there's no chrome on the sides - very atypical for something from the era of glitz and glamour. "It's interesting Midnight, but let's get going." >"This is it," she says, staring at the trapezoidal grille. "What is?" >She looks at you as if you just said something incredibly stupid. >"This car! The project car!" >You think she's joking... >But the look of anticipation and wonder on her face says otherwise. >Why would she want this? "Midnight, do you see a 'For Sale' sign anywhere?" you hint. >"Why else would it be near the road?" "Midnight, that doesn't mean an-" >The sound of a screen door slamming shut breaks your focus from Midnight to the house. >What looks to be a frail old man steps off of the porch, ambling along with a cane through the yard.

>>7558 >"Hang on, sonny! I'm a-comin!" he calls out in a rather hoarse voice. >Well, at least he doesn't seem like the serial killer kind... >The liver-spotted bronze skin combined with his hunched-forward posture and bald head makes you more concerned for his well-being at this point. >"Why would he be coming out here if it wasn't for sale?" Midnight whispers to you. "To beat your ass with that cane for trespassing, stupid." >The old man finally reaches you and Midnight, straightening up a bit to at least stand at eye level with Midnight. >His gold-rimmed circular glasses on his deeply wrinkled face apparently having been made with Coke-bottle glass make his eyes look enormous as he looks at Midnight, then you. >"Good morning!" he says, a little louder than necessary for those of normal hearing. >"Good morning," Midnight offers back with a nod and a smile. "Yeah, it is a nice morning. Didn't mean to bother you," you say apologetically. >"Oh, pish-posh," he replies with a laugh and a wave of his free hand. "It's a good thing for me to be getting out and about. And better yet, to have someone looking at what I got for sale." >"See?" Midnight says, looking over at you with a cocky grin. >"I suppose I'm a little out of the way for most folk, and I don't do that newfangled technology all the kids use - been a while since I had someone stop and take a gander," the old man continues, pausing as he turns to Midnight. "Oh, and no offense with the technology comment. Just not for me." >Midnight has the same amount of confusion you feel for a moment, before realizing the guy thinks she's a pony bot. >Derp. >"None taken," Midnight says, shaking her head as the realization hits her as well. >Good girl. >"Anyway - figured I'd head on out and greet you two. Like the look of the old Chrysler, eh?" "It caught her eye," reply, pointing to Midnight. "I'm having a hard time putting my finger on it - what is it?" >Looking at the grille, the old man motions to it for a moment, right before noting the empty circular socket at the top. >He waddles to the driver's side of the car, pointing to the rear quarter. >"Well, it says right here on the si-" >He stops and adjusts his glasses again, while you look at the empty panel dotted only by minute holes punched in the sheetmetal. >"Well, it would say right here on the side. I must have put them inside the car," he finishes, reaching for the door handle. >The latch opens with a healthy mechanical clunk, allowing the door to swing open and you and Midnight to look inside the car - and get hit with a wave of stale air. >First off, it appears that it's old newspapers taped to the inside of the windows - so faded from the outside as to make that indiscernible, but the ink is just barely visible inside. >But it means that the tan interior, while showing wear and tear from years of use and desert heat hasn't been completely fried by the sun's rays.

>>7559 >Moreover, the chrome side spear trim from the sides lay on the front bench seat leather, with the red white, and blue medallions shining in the glare of the morning sun, along with the name. >300C >You feel ashamed for not recognizing the grille - even if it's missing the emblem. >"Chrysler 300C. Bought it brand new in the spring of '57," the old man explains. "Boy, what a car." >"You kept this for that long?" Midnight gasps. >"Well sure I did - there were a lot of memories with this car," the man answers back. "Saved up a lot of money to buy it, and the honeys loved it, too." >He laughs again, a raspy noise that carries into a short cough. >"Sorry about that. But it wasn't long after getting this car I met my love, Mildred. A lot of date nights in this car - drove it home from the wedding, too. Lord above, so many good memories - until I spun a bearing or something in it." "You never looked into it?" >He shakes his head. >"When you got a loving wife and two children to provide for and take care of, spend time with - cars don't mean too much, sonny," he replies. "I always thought someday I'd get back to it, once the kids grew up and started their own lives. But never did, I'm afraid. Truth be told, I sort of got into collecting all sorts of things after Mildred passed about - oh dear, probably thirty or so years ago. Something to distract the mind aside from the kids and the grandkids, when they couldn't be around." >Towards the end of his rambling, you hear emotions and pain creep into his voice - but a clearing of his throat makes it evaporate. >"But enough about me - you didn't stop by just to hear an old coot share his life story, eh?" >"How much is it?" Midnight practically blurts out. >Dammit, Midnight... >You don't know a ton about these, but you know they were expensive when new, and ended up quite rare. >With as complete as this looks, there's no way it's going to fit into a budget no matter how much you stretch it. "What she means to say is we were just passing by and were curious about it. Also, I'm sorry to hear about your wife." >"Oh, it's alright sonny. I appreciate it, but I'm fine. The kids come by pretty frequently, the grandkids too - that's how I still live out here without a license." >He pauses a moment, looking at you and Midnight. >"Well, it's been out here for some time now, and heaven knows I don't have the body or mind to take care of it - you ain't gonna scrap it, are ya?" >"Absolutely not!" Midnight shouts, aghast by the suggestion. >It brings a smile to the old man's face. >"I didn't think so, but better safe than sorry! I just want it to go to a good home ... honestly, since it doesn't even run, I'll take fifteen hundred." >Fifteen hundred... >This guy has to be fucking with you. "Fifteen hundred, or fifteen thousand?" you cautiously ask.

>>7560 >"One thousand five hundred dollars. Might be worth more than that, but I'm getting old, boy. I don't need to be bringing in big bucks that I'll never do anything with." >'Might' be worth more than that... >You feel guilty. >"Sold!" >You look over at Midnight in shock, seeing her practically bouncing up and down with joy. "Hey, I'm the one with the finances here, Middie," you remind her. >"And I'm the one that got us there," she replies, sticking her tongue out at you. >You look over at the seller, who seems perfectly content listening to you two banter. "Just a moment, mister..." >"Ah, there's no need for formalities. Art's the name." "Well Art, I'm Anon, and this is Midnight - and I think we need just a moment to discuss something," you reply, patting Midnight on the back of her neck to urge her away. >"Of course, take your time," he says with a nod. >After ten or so paces, you stop. >Midnight turns to face you, looking mildly irritated. >"What?" "Is that really what you want?" >"You think this is just an elaborate joke on my part?" she warily answers back. "It's..." >You rub the back of your head, looking back at the old Chrysler. "I didn't expect a project from the fifties. We gonna cruise to the malt shop, me with a greaser haircut and you sporting a beehive, too?" >"Shut up, jackass - just look at it!" she cries, pointing back to the car. "It looks great, looks comfortable, and like you said, we can do an engine swap if it needs power." >Well, if you can put the engine back together, power won't be an issue. >Those Chryslers won races straight from the showroom floor. >The transmission is pushbutton, which is neat, too. >And it is pretty sharp, even in the rough. >Would make for a nice cruiser, and it looks like most of the parts are there... >Fuck it. > It's what she wants. >Badly. >At first sight. >Which brings to mind... "Midnight, you are not naming that car, and the first time the radio comes on by itself playing fifties rock and roll - it's gone." >"You need to stop watching movies," she replies, albeit with a smirk. "I mean it, Arnie." >"You look more like Cuntface than me." "Anyway, if you're really serious about this and that's what you want-" >"We have a deal!" Midnight sidesteps you and shouts. "-I guess I'm in." ----- Couldn't find a pic of a barn find hardtop, let alone in black with the front end, so this will have to do.

>>7561 Auto, you're awesome! I admire your productivity and overall story quality.

>>7562 I have been meaning to read this one for a while. As a fan of classic cars and ponies It's a must. BTW there is a Christine reference in the official comics. How many posts does it span and which one do I start at?

>>7562 D'aww, thanks. Honestly, this is by far the most consistent I've been with any green I've done in terms of productivity. So it's been quite a surprise for me. >>7563 It's been going consistent since last August - ballpark figure just going through the ponepastes is almost 120k words over 8k lines, not counting the one-shot I did that ties into the main story. It all starts here: https://ponepaste.org/5610

>>7563 It's been ongoing for several months. Your best option to catch up is to read through the pastes. Midnight Part 1: https://ponepaste.org/5610 Midnight Part 2: https://ponepaste.org/5723 Midnight Part 3: https://ponepaste.org/6024 Shadow (Midnight universe): https://ponepaste.org/6144 Midnight Part 4: https://ponepaste.org/6733

>>7561 That's a cool looking car. I think Middie's made a fine choice. Kind of funny that it ended up coming from outside the scrapyard. Middie certainly sounds excited, and I'm excited to hear how she gets on with it. Thanks for another update.

>>7565 >>7566 Thanks, looking forward to reading it now. It was kind of daunting without having good info on it.

>>7534 There's some good reasons for NATO being a slimecorn >NATO is a false power, which would be a false princess/alicorn in MLP. Rather than making her a changeling donutsteal-like Chyraslis with another horned changling, NATO was made by the other nation ponies but they've given power over to NATO to run things. >The nature of NATO's expansion over and over irl is a very easy mark for some slime pooling out and spreading to other nation ponies. It's almost fungal or viral how NATO takes over nations and keeps growing. >Slimeponies are naturally harder to fight than a normal nation pony, with traditional weapons or means of usual battle failing which is fitting how hard it would be to get rid of NATO or control it. >Opens up shapeshifting and not the boring kind like Changelings or Hippogriffs. NATO is very two-faced with a public benevolent mask everyone aspires to be but a sadist side only seen in private behind closed doors. >It's symbolic and literal how NATO is literally slimey and deceptive. She might gaslight you, making you or someone you know suffer (Like Ukraine with Russia) >Slime is natural fit for unkownn substances that might drug up, put to sleep or make you trip out if you were exposed to it. In short the NATOoGoo is intended to be more like big problem that's hard to get rid of the longer it goes on, and less stereotypical 'oo goopony fetish'. but there could easily be that too.

https://w2g.tv/d9obei7tf07m24mbus Room is up for anyone who's having too dull or quiet a Saturday.

>A deliciously mild Saturday night >Snow has come and gone, retreating to a mere impotent drizzle at best and a moderately bothersome shower at worst >Prism is knocked out cold >Jack is at your side, as always >Shine is at your other side >Your continued habit of drinking on certain nights has led to your particularly precocious unicorn gaining something resembling a tolerance >Jack, as always, is able to hold her own with the constitution of an adult human male >You base this purely off of your own drinking habits and capacity "It's finally Spring... it's hard to imagine so much time has passed out of nowhere." >Does that make sense by itself? >Does it particularly matter? >With all three of you sitting on the borderline aerial patio of your apartment, no one is around to listen in >No one around is even awake, most likely >"Tell me about it... it looks so nice out." >Jack nuzzles into your side >Of course, it is still dreadfully dull outside >The grass is still hibernating and dreaming of warmer days >All that there is consists of mud and clumps of snow-turned-ice that refuse to get with the times >"I guess. I can't believe you guys could drink so much so quickly..." >Your bottle was full >It is now less than a half in capacity >You lean over to pick up said bottle >True, you seemed to have drunken more than a quarter of it >Jack has matched you gulp for gulp >Shiner has hardly touched it in comparision "Fear now, red mare. Sometimes, you drink to celebrate. Sometimes you drink to not worry. Sometimes, you just drink because you're in good company and you really want to feel something for once." >"Mmmhmm... what he said." >Jack nuzzles you twice as hard >"That... was a bit of a weird thing to say. You alright Anon?" "I'm as alright as I can be. Here, with this drink, with you two and our fourth sleeping with the intensity of a bear in mid-January, I feel... content. At peace with myself, and my position in life. Such as it is." >Shine doesn't sound all that convinced >"...you don't normally try to sound smart." "I know! It is an accomplishment to let on less than I truly know." >"It's true." >Jack, your cheerleader to the end, practically gives your leg friction burn with how fiercely she rubs her face against you >You pat her shoulder far too long, partially because you forgot you had control of your arm >Your hand had effectively just turned into a petting paddle of sorts >"So... does this mean that if I ask you something now, you're kinda supposed to answer me directly and not remember later so it's convenient?" "Don't be so genre-savvy, Shiner. I'll remember. And I'll still probably answer." >The unicorn doesn't seem to sit well with your self-awareness >But she's still laying against you and far more gently nuzzling your other side >"So does it mean that it's ok if I start asking you things?" >"Totally." "See? Mare's on board, let me have it."

>>7588 >Your slow, gentle rocking of your head back and forth is giving you an internal metronome to focus on, keeping you from losing focus or sight >Or focus of your sight, specifically >You just keep focusing on that one star in the sky >Or rather, since you do live in some sort of smaller city, what is most likely a satellite >Something children will grow up seeing, falsely believing that they are able to spy the stars without understanding the true beauty that only comes from the night in a true wilderness setting >"Alright. So..." >The red mare pauses >As if she doesn't know what to ask me, now that she has the keys to the candy store and she's no longer on her "I swear this year will be different" diet >Of course, she's far too scrawny for such a diet >You can lift her like it's nothing >And you have >And outside of the split-second surprise that she shows, you can tell that she gains such a powerful sense of comfort from being held by you >You say nothing about it >Neither does she >Probable deniability is what that is called, isn't it? >You're not sober, why would you know? >"How... are you feeling?" >You chortle at such a basic question >Of course it is a tip to a wedge of greater questioning >Or maybe she just genuinely wants to know, given how rarely you and Jacky drink nowadays >It used to be far more... common >Putting it lightly >As if both of you had memories you wished to ignore >Or more specifically, that you wanted to make the night even more memorable, at the cost of worrying that it might have all been a feeble dream so easily destroyed by the harsh scrutiny of daily life and the sorrow that followed "I'm..." >That is a helluva question, isn't it? >It's something people so often ask but so rarely listen to, when the time comes for an answer "I'm good, Sparking. I have you. I have Jackenstein. I also even have Prismatic Rabbit over there on her little nest of pillows. I honestly can't see myself wanting for much more. Not really. More money would be nice. Obviously. But to an extent, what do I care?" >You look at your bottle >Not only does rotating your head less than 90 degrees send your vision swirling but you don't feel the need to punctuate such a statement with a drink >Or such complacency, you should say >Not that you're saying any of that "I wish I could give all of you more. Mayhaps it's in my nature of a man. Or because it's my love for all of you that I wish to just... give more." >Shine seems completely taken off guard by your answer >Indeed, you would be surprised by your answer too >Perhaps alcohol has started to bring out the thoughts and ideas you tend to suppress in your daily life >"Alright, are you sure you're drunk? I mean I saw you gulp all of that crap down but you actually sound smarter." "Ballmer's Point." >Shine snorts >"What?" "Yeah, it's a thing. Supposedly if you take in just enough alcohol it sharpens the senses far more than it dulls them."

>>7589 >"It's true." >Jack mumbles out, her mouth pressed against your knee >She is as tired as she is sloshed >The adorable little dork >"...ok, just because Jacky says it is true doesn't mean anything to me." >You shrug "Well if you believe me or not, I'm not particularly concerned." >You glance at your bottle again >You reach out to touch the smooth, cold glass >You look at Shine and decide against it "I... would rather not spoil the point I'm at. Not for anything. Not for anyone." >"It's true." >Your Evil-Lyn of sorts agrees >You're pretty sure you could say anything and she would corroborate it >"Well that's good to know. At least I know you won't puke on me." "And thankfully I won't ever." >"Geeze, let's hope so... you good for another question? Your eyes are..." "Hm?" >You look down at her >She's staring pretty hard >"Have your... eyes changed color?" "Eh?" >"It's true." >Oh shush, Jacknut >"Seriously. Do they look more... green?" >It could be >The benefit of having eyes that allegedly fluxgate between brown and green >You've never looked into your own eyes so you can only truly go off of commentary from others "Maybe. I guess anything happens. What's your next question?" >Before you can react >Or perhaps, you choose to not react >She pushes herself up as hard as she can, going from a half-laying position to kiss you >It lasts for entire minutes >In your mind >In reality, it lasts no longer than five full seconds of lips pressed to another pair >She pulls herself away from you and sinks back down to her position >"Technically, since you're drunk... that's more a bad deed on me than you, right?" >You aren't speechless >But you are surprised >You look down to Jack >She's curled up and probably incapable of moving even if you shook her awake >You really should be feeling something about this that would be negative >But to be honest you don't really care >At least, not right now >You reach over for the bottle of vodka >Super smooth stuff >Whether or not it was an excuse or not, you would never say >You lick your lips a few times before taking in a pitiful amount of vodka >Not even enough to fill your mouth, but enough to give a familiar, almost playful burn to both your tongue and your throat >It tastes good >You're willing to play dumb and presume your gut instinct referred to the liquid "Yes. Yes it does." >You shouldn't be that surprised >Between her hearing things and how she always pushes barriers, something like this was going to happen sooner or later >You aren't so genre-blind, yourself >But you strongly dislike the idea of doing anything that might cause a rift between you and your dear Jaqueline >Or... >What did she say her name was? >Lemon Pepper? >The name suits her, to be honest >You could see her adopting that name in a more meaningful capacity >A stage name, perhaps >"You... don't look mad." "I'm not." >As simple as it is, it's the truth >You can't even pretend to be mad

>>7590 >It's not fair to her to act like she had somehow crossed some sort of mythical line >It isn't as if you've made that many efforts to push her away or set up anything more well-defined >As if you haven't done enough already by the most obvious, genuine affections you share with your goofy mare >"...so..." >She starts to slide upward against you again >She thinks she can obviously swooce her way on in and get another kiss? >You openly laugh at the notion and slide your Shine-sided hand over her face >It puts a hard stop to her physical ascension, much to your amusement and her only minorly inconvenienced visage >"...hey. Don't fight it." >The way she says that >The genuine, almost combative tone of hers >It's hilarious >It truly is >Does she think that she is so easily capable of overwhelming your most base of urges and instincts? >If only you could be stripped of such inhibitions in such a state >If only you could lose yourself for even a moment and truly become a blameless mass that has no recollection, no morality and no memory >You've never once been able to drink enough to reach that point >No matter how much you used to try "I'm not fighting it. I'm just having fun messing with you." >You pat her head, roughly enough where her head gets batted down again >"It's true." >That one is far more a sleepy mumble than anything else >The adorable gal you've had in your life for over two years and a quarter just has that instinctual need to remain in the conversation, regardless of context >Perhaps it's for the best that she isn't awake or coherent >Shine might not do so well with a broken nose >Again >"...so can I ask another question since that didn't work?" "Go for it, man. I'm an open book and I'm as open as I could be, given circumstances." >She looks over you, presumably to study your features and any possible emotional tells or signs that she could take advantage of >You don't think negatively of her for having such thoughts or goals >It is who she is >Perhaps that is why you did not mind the kiss to begin with >... >You truly are a reprehensible human at times, aren't you? >"Be honest." "Always." >A quick interjection >"...right. Is..." >She trails off >That isn't like her >She's usually so bold with herself >Is it perhaps that she has imbibed enough alcohol to put her off of her A-game? >Or is it that she's seeing you in such a sorry state, open to suggestion and throwing consequences away like weathered "help wanted" flyers? >"Is it really ok that we get to live like this?" "Absolutely." >You answer almost to the microsecond after you perceive her voice ends >She is a little surprised at your sharp response time >"I mean it." "I do too." >"But your savings-" "Are meant to be spent my crimson so-and-so. You can tell I'm in a bit of a weird position if I can't think of a funny-sounding nickname to call you." >You chuckle to yourself >She must not be on her game

>>7591 >Rather than having a quick response, she nuzzles your thigh in a mirror move of what Jacklicious did not even an hour ago when the alcohol turned her from mostly mild-mannered to something suspiciously affectionate "I'll be honest with you, Shiner. I don't care about money. I really don't." >As you begin to speak, you can feel your vision fixate >You aren't losing focus >Nay >You're focusing very keenly on the wood fencing of a far away neighbor >One that always has friends over, a bonfire going and some sort of party music going on "Because at the end of the day, no matter how much I get, it will never be enough to afford anything more than this God-forsaken apartment. And because of that, it doesn't mean anything to me. I have the rent paid. The bills taken care of. I've gotten far more of a variety when it comes to food when it comes to myself and all of you. What do I need money for? It is the means to an end, and nothing more." >The surprisingly sober-sounding speech supposedly sparks something inside of you resembling sobriety >But it fizzles >Sparky seems... >Not surprised? >But incredulous >"Oh shut up... you say that as if we're important to you." "You are. And I'll headbutt you if you think otherwise." >"God damn it, ENOUGH WITH THE HEADBUTTING!" >A few weeks ago Jacky headbutted Shine again due to a D&D argument >Thankfully it wasn't full-force but it was still enough to make her bleed >Her poor little snoot >Despite the fresh memory of her pain and tears, you can't help but giggle at the petty situation "I will say, though... you are all important to me. Without you, I probably wouldn't have gotten to where I am now. I probably would have given up in life. After Missy, and... everything else. I do not think I would think it impossible to do something drastic in order to ensure the wellbeing of any of you. Put me in front of a trial and I would be incapable of feeling guilt." >As if that is somehow a cue on her side, she tries to slink her way up again for a kiss >You can tell because the way she's licking her lips >Far too much for any idle movement >Your peripheral vision is fucking godly tonight, isn't it? >Deciding that your arms are a little too heavy, you lean your face down >She ends up kissing your cheek on accident >Accident because her ears flatten and she adopts a highly embarrassed pout >"You're supposed to be easier to take advantage of." "And you're supposed to be a better sister." >"...yeah well she deserves it." >A long exhale of a snort is your first answer "Pray tell, why." >"Because she flaunts what I'll never have like it's going out of style and she does it on purpose." "Does she though?" >"Remember that time you came out of the shower?" "Yeah, every single day." >She shakes her head and rolls her eyes >"No, dumb ass. The one time you came out in the towel." "Really narrowing it down for me, aren't you?"

>>7592 >"She sat on your lap." "As she often does, yes." >"And she made eye contact with me." "Did she now?" >"And... then you connected." >Your stomach doesn't drop >You honestly don't feel that embarrassed >Maybe you should have, in the moment >Or maybe you weren't paying attention to the world around you "I... suppose that may have happened once or thrice." >"It happens whenever I'm in your room, at that time." "That's a little presumptuous, isn't it? >She gives you a more bitter frown >"Shut up and take another drink, human." "Human? Am I just 'human' now?" >You roll your head to either side and gleefully take the bottle for another sip "Don't mind me, just Hugh Mann filling up my tank. Whatever you say, boss." >You drink just a little more than you thought you should >Not quite a mouthful >But maybe halfway through >You keep it in your mouth and let it go down your throat, bit by bit >It's better than sipping in a cup because it's in your mouth and now you're committed to it >And you wouldn't possibly dare spit out any of this precious poison society says is a past time beverage >You let out a satisfied "ahhhh" "There. Now I'm even more intoxicated. Better?" >"Not until you get to the point you can't stop me." "Aren't we the most adorable little offender." >You aren't concerned in the least >But you're pretty sure you're pushing what could be your mortal limitsm >As long as you maintain your focused vision you'll be fine >"She does it all the time... she makes me know that you're hers. Like it's gloating." "Is it gloating or just... perhaps a little too much comfort when we should probably be more strategic?" >"It's gloating, shut up." >That's how it's gonna be, huh? >You roll your head and give a solid salute "You got it boss." >Jacky isn't responding anymore >She's probably long past the point of chipping in >"It's... it's annoying. Do you need to be intoxicated for me to say that I'm openly jealous and that I'm starting to have enough of it?" >You chortle "And what are you going to do if she doesn't stop, threaten to cook her goose?" >"No, I'm going to push her over and take her spot." >You were going to laugh at that >But that tone >The feeling of eyes boring into the side of your head >You decide to not look her in the eye "...you probably would, wouldn't you." >"You're fucking right I would." >That tone >That's the cold tone of someone who truly is serious "...I guess I'll have to have a talk with her about that then. I guess... I'm sorry. That isn't a guess. I am sorry. I suppose I just didn't think you would care." >"Yeah well I do." >...Silence >For the first time that night, genuine silence >But it's that sort of artificial silence >Like the birds and insects have all left, as if even they are awaiting for the next line in this sordid stage play >"...and you probably shouldn't talk to her about it. It may be the only chance I get." >Your strongest instinct tells you to shut up and not make light of this

>>7593 >The time for drunken revelry has passed, apparently >"That may be the only sort of chance I get. And I get the feeling that, in the moment, she might not mind as much as she otherwise would." >Your vision focuses on the sleeping Jack >Even moving your eyes is enough to make the world spin >As long as you don't move, you're perfectly lucid >Painfully so, given current company >"...one last question." "Shoot." >You reply before you have time to think >As if you could even humor any coherent thought or appraisal given your current condition >Don't lie to yourself, Anonymous >You wouldn't be able to walk down the hallway straight, much less drive down a block >Much less talk down a mare such as her >"...can you not bring that up to her? Because maybe I want that chance." >Were you a lesser man, that might cause a bodily reaction of sorts >To be quite honest, said reactions tend to be tended to in short order these days >As impossible as it may sound to anyone with a clear head, you almost hope that Jack might end up with some semblance of morning sickness >A reason why you so rarely bring out alcohol even now >Because you never know until it happens >You lick your lips >They are quite dry >You do not like the position you're in "I'm pretty drunk. You're asking a lot for a drunk man, you know." >You like the position you're in even less now >Are you truly so intoxicated that you are no longer in control of your own mind >You may not be able to reliably move all that well but you are certainly master of your own voice and thoughts >Aren't you? >Perhaps that is a sign that you may indeed be a little over your own head >"I know... maybe you just should forget I said anything. And make sure her next headbutt doesn't hurt so much." >She openly nuzzles against you >You can hear her giggle >That giggle... >It sounds... >Evil? >Would that be the most appropriate term? >Perhaps >It isn't like you're shocked "Make sure next headbutt doesn't give you brain damage... got it." >You nod >You keep nodding >It turns to a slow head bobbing >What first threw you off your equilibrium became your main way to maintain it >"Good. You should drink more, Anon. And make me drink with you." >You swallow "I can't immediately say that would be a good idea, given circumstances." >Another giggle >"That's ok. You only have to sit there.I know how much hit takes for you to get like this." "How generous of you." >You close your eyes >Everything feels like it is swirling around so much >You're making sure you aren't moving but it still feels like things are teetering or outright dipping >You feel a pair of lips against yours >But it persists >It isn't Jack >You know because she's far more confident >Not forceful >But sure of what she's doing >Your eyes are closed, you are willingly choosing the path of least resistance by avoiding the apparently forbidden knowledge >And in that, you are weak >You can't even hide behind the alcohol >You are sober enough >You think >Maybe...

https://ponepaste.org/7059 Apparently we're on Part Eleven now, aren't we? Vodka may be sweet but it leaves bitter memories and revelations. I pity those who can't simply drink themselves to blank oblivion.

>>7594 >Another Sunday means another movie night >Your recovery took a little over half of the day, just because you didn't drink enough water to flush and rehydrate your system >Jack guzzled nearly as much water >Tonight's choice? >The Wild Bunch >Before that was Indiana Jones >"So why did that guy take Pike's revolver?" >With your back to the wall, the yellow mare occupies your lap >She went from laying upside down, to laying against your side, to sitting on your lap like a little human >She's deemed it so that her final position is yours: back to the wall, sitting on her butt with her shoulder to your side >One of these days you really need to give her something to help with that Restless Mare Syndrome "Who knows? A keepsake of the old days. Not a trophy, he wasn't too proud of everything." >You remember the first time you showed this movie to her, way back when >It's violent >It's harsh >It's the end of an era >She doesn't react so strongly anymore to violence >To death >Sometimes, you feel bad for having shown her so much >"...and in the end, he just rides off, huh." "Yeah..." >It's a somber ending "Life goes on, you know? And having a place in it matters a lot." >Neither of you speak until the music finishes and the media player stops >"... did those guys deserve that, Anon?" "I don't know, Jack." >Since last night, you've been perhaps more thoughtful than normal "But they were loyal." >"To a guy they ratted out?" "Sure. It didn't sit well with them, otherwise they would have just gone off." >You watch your mare >The expression on her face tells you that she's in deep thought >"Loyalty..." >That is a big theme in the movie >In that world, it was the only thing that kept you save, alive >"I can't think of any of us that would sell out the other." >That's good, isn't it? >You're all only four, and the bonds you all share is pretty hard to top or cut off >The look on her face sours further >"Not anymore, anyway..." >While you don't plan on disrupting her, you end up deciding that you want to mess with her >So you do >You scoop one hand under her butt and lift her up >Your other hand goes to her back >Rotating at your waist you half-drag and half-carry her to your lap >Her focus doesn't actually change >Even if you can spy a little bit of a suppressed smile >You begin to just... massage her >Her lower legs >Her chest >Her shoulders >Neck too >Such casual massaging and molestation comes naturally and you've long passed the point of caring >She doesn't really care either >"We should do some sort of group thing." "Group thing?" >"Yeah." >Masterfully elaborated idea "Doesn't the D&D thing count?" >"Nah. Kinda like when we went to the fair, I want to see something... real." "Well what sounds good? We don't exactly live in any sort of real environment that has risk." >"I know..." >Your hands go to both sides of her neck >You aren't a natural masseuse but you just can't not keep your hands on her

>>7603 >"I kinda wanna have Sparky lead it too... she's smart with stuff. I bet she would do good." >Your hands don't stop but they slow >You haven't spoken to her since last night >Just as you were concerned, you were certainly drunk but nowhere near enough to feel absolved of all morality and responsibility "Yeah... I don't know. It's just gonna give her another power trip." >Jack giggles >"Totally. But it's kinda... nice. To see her so happy. She's her most creative when under pressure, don't you think?" >She is >Most of her spells tend to be used in weird ways >Which is pretty smart >The times the dice are on her side, it leads to a lot of unconventional successes and evasion "Yeah..." >You can't help but feel a little awkward about things >She can pick up on it >The number of times the two of you go days without speaking to one another but still pick up on cues and general vibes >"What'd she do this time?" >The bitter pill "She... ah. Kissed me a few times." >"Really?" "Yeah. When we were outside. You already dozed off it seemed and we were talking." >"About what?" >She doesn't sound all that mad >Or feel that tense >Your hands haven't stopped petting her either "She said you were gloating." >"Gloating." "Gloating." >Her lack of questioning makes you think Shine might be onto something >"What else?" "She asked about money. If it was really ok for all of you to live the way you do. I don't really care about that sort of thing and I told her outright that I didn't. We all eat well. We do whatever we want. That's really good enough for me." >"Anything else?" >She can probably tell there's more to it >She can read your mind better than Shine, at this point "She does not, in fact, admire the headbutting." >She giggles in response >Quite a dark little giggle, isn't it? >"That's fine." "That's fine?" >"That's fine. She does enough stuff to deserve it." "That's quite a dark streak, Jack." >"Well, apparently that sort of thing works on you. So maybe... I gotta learn a little to stay on top." >You aren't sure if your pride is hurt more than your heart "That sort of thing didn't work on me." >"No, but..." >She trails off >You can feel her body tense just enough to let you know that she's in deep thought >"...I guess we drank a lot, huh..." "Yeah..." >That's right >A very convenient excuse is how much you drank >The proof is in how much of the bottle is now empty >It isn't satisfactory but it is true >"I'm going to headbutt her." "Jack, don't." >"Why shouldn't I?" "Because... to be honest, I can't think of a reason right now." >It's true >She kinda does deserve it >You really can't defend that sort of thing, even if it only happened to you >As if it happening to you makes it less of an offense >"I guess that's a good enough reason... for now." "You aren't gonna headbutt her then?" >"No. I will. I just have to think of a new reason." "Didn't take you for a violent sort." >"I guess call me territorial?"

>>7604 "Thankfully headbutting is all you do to mark your territory." >"For now." >...oh boy >You clear your throat and fail to realize the extra strength you put into your fingers "Are you mad?" >"Define "mad"." "Use whatever definition you want." >Jackenstein tilts her head to the side >You react appropriately by rubbing the base and back of her ear >"...I guess I can't be. I want to be. I kinda am gloating. But it's not like... it's malicious." "There's such a thing as non-malicious gloating?" >"I hope so." "So she was right... you remember that one time I got out of the shower with just a towel?" >"I remember the last time..." "Heh..." >It was nice >Very nice "Did you... do any weird gestures or eye contact then? Was she around to see?" >"I don't know. Maybe." "Maybe?" >"I don't remember, I guess." "Now you're just being obtuse." >Silence >Your hands have ventured down to her belly >You don't particularly mind if she's not being completely honest at the moment >But you don't really care either >The tone shows >For both of you >This is something worth talking over >And it is certainly important >But it doesn't matter >Neither of you are going to give up the other without a bloody fight >Literally, if so required >"I guess I might have taunted her or something." "See? That didn't take much." >It isn't unrealistic that you might not have noticed >It's downright not surprising that your focus was far more local >You can blame her for that >"Can you blame me? She has magic. And I have... my own magic." >Your petting and touching evolves into a hug >A tight hug "I guess so..." >She truly does not sound bothered by this at all >You really can't imagine doing all of this to Shine >They both just feel so differently "Mind if next time we drink, it's not around her?" >"Worried she might kiss you again?" "I'm worried she might do more next time." >"Wouldn't you be able to stop her?" >Would you? >It would take a severe amount for you to drink to the point you lack any bodily autonomy >No matter how you look at it, you are still responsible for yourself, even when you aren't at your best >You hesitate to answer >But not for the reason anyone might think >She doesn't seem to react "If I'm at that level of drunk again... if I did, I would probably end up headbutting her, myself. Or worse." >"Then do what you need to. She can create stuff out of nothing with just a thought... why do we have to be afraid of that? Or act like it doesn't put the rest of us at a handicap?" "You're mad." >"I'm not mad." >She has been doing her best to hide it but you can hear a small sharp edge of anger in her tone >You tighten her hug "I'll do better." >"It's not about you doing better, Anon..." >She throws her head back, puckering her lips for a kiss >You oblige >That is a feel and taste you are far more familiar with >"Let's just think of a way to block her. If it gets worse... then we can make a huge deal out of it and get everyone involved and be loud. But for now...?"

>>7605 "For now?" >"I don't care. She's my sister... but you're mine. And I'm yours. Besides, I want to talk about something." >"What's on your mind? >"I want to relax, while it's just the two of us. And I want to think of names for the family.... just in case." "The family...?" >Does this mean...? >Of course not >It's just idle talk >Same as everything else you talk about that hasn't yet happened "You got it, Pepperjack." >Not even five sentences into the conversation, your eyes start to droop >You can't help but feel tired when you have this mare in your arms >Her scent >Her feel >Certainly her taste when applicable >It is a deep sense of comfort that leads to you getting so soul weary >You feel rested after but it has to be something >There has to be a reason for it >You just can't put your hands on it

>>7594 Sounds like Anon is having fun with the pones. >>7606 It would be nice to have a movie night with a pony.

>>7609 Jacky and Anon first bonded over watching a ton of movies together. It became so much of a thing that /bootleg/ started having movie streams of what they used to watch. That eventually turned into the music and chilling/writing talk thing we have now.

>>7610 We need to have another dedicated movie night again. We watched Galaxy Quest a couple months ago, which was fun.

>>7611 I've been poking my nose around and I want to use Cytube. As far as I'm aware, if I can download the movie and upload it to somewhere specific in the right format, we're good to go. But I would need a day or so of foreknowledge so I can get a playlist going. To whoever would care, what are some good /bootleg/ movies? Outside of westerns. I'm all for making a playlist so we can get something rolling and I can get to converting what I need to.

>>7612 I don't think any of these are movies referenced in Jacky, but I'd want to watch them regardless. Raiders of the Lost Ark The Empire Strikes Back Predator Tombstone Inception Any FiM episodes with Cadence in them.

>>7613 It can be any movies, doesn't need to be /bootleg/ related exactly. Just need the format to be MP4 and for it to be less than 2GB in size. Good news is that I'm fiddling around with the room and it seems like I can make permanent playlists which is good for music purposes. I think it may be even better than watch2gether because I don't think it has as many restrictions when it comes to what will and will not play. We'll have to see I suppose.

>>7615 I have a feeling things are about to get weird.

>>7616 >"You're not going anywhere until that HMD is disarmed"

>>7615 Depending on the fabric, nothing needs to even get removed. Just soaked through.

>>7614 https://cytu(period)be/r/BootlegMovies This is the place to be specific. If it can get added to OP next time around that would be cool. Not like it would be used all that often but it is not a temporary room. Currently spending the time to mess with it more and just have background music going if anyone wants to start the week.

>>7618 >NATO has a nice trick shes proud of. once she's got a hook on you she can >Rape without even needing to take your clothes off Damn, scary goopone

>>7615 please tell me there's more

>>7606 "Alright, ready?" >"Born ready." >You decided on having another date night with Jack >Rather than go out or do anything fancy, it was decided that some delicious fast food and a drive would be best >A new layer of snow coated everything so it is... at least a little more picturesque and romantic >A little >While ordering, you voiced your own desires while Jacky did her own options >By chance or some other force, you ordered nearly the same thing >Four baked potatoes between the two of you, each one with different toppings >You can already imagine that it'll be a little bit of a share fest >Baked potato with cheese and bacon does sound good though... >And because you ordered one, she didn't >Oh well >You roll up to the window, both of you having let out all of the evil giggles beforehand >Despite the sun having long set, you fit your shades on her head >They're a little awkward but they absolutely do the job >"Order for Mr. and Mrs. Anon, right?" "Yup, that's us." >"Alright! So here are your..." >The hapless service industry employee finally looks at what must surely be his most interesting customer of the night >"...drinks...?" >You and Jack stare at him with a blank expression >The fact that her expression is blank, jaw slightly lowered and eyebrows raised ever so just points that she isn't merely any yellow pony >She even has her seatbelt on "Groovy." >The humble fry merchant doesn't know what to say >"A... ah... y-yeah." >Already visibly confused, he hands you both drinks >One is some lemonade-tea mixture >The other is some sort of lemonade-and-pineapple-juice blend >As with the potatoes, it will probably be a fair trade of who wants to drink what >"Hey, fly boy don't forget the straws!" >Jacky barks out as soon as the poor lad turns his back to you >He spins around, already on edge >"S-sir?" "What's up?" >You furrow your brow as if you didn't hear her >By God her poker face is amazing >"Uh... s-straws. Yeah, they'll be in your bag. Do you want any extra condiments?" "Sure, yeah, I'll take some extra pepper and a few extra butters if that's alright." >"Yeah, right on, that's not a problem." >"Can you add some salt too? My husband forgot to bring that up, AGAIN." >For added flavor, she added a little saltiness to her tone >Like he's trying to catch us in the act of... something, he spins so hard he doesn't have the immediate reflex to stop himself from almost tipping over >"Ma'am?" "What's up?" >As if you're just as perplexed as he is, you look back at Jack >And your back seats >Of course, it's as empty as can be except for a pillow and a neatly folded up blanket >Rather than poke the proverbial bear, he shakes his head and gets to the bags >After both are given over, he squints at the shade-wearing pony >"Hey, uh... sir? Were you making those noises? Or was that pony talking?" "Me? Nooo...? I don't think so." >You look over at Jack "How about you, dear? Did you say something?" >You lean over just enough and lift off her shades