Black

and white are

Aria see

She blinked and took a deep breath. Salty water filled her lungs and she suddenly discovered how nice it was to have gills again. Her eyes slowly got used to seeing in murky water. She could recognise the remnants of a plastic bag.

She sighed. At least her friends didn’t get an idea to cremate her or something. Or to indulge into old siren tradition of eating the dead. That probably wouldn’t stop her from eventually getting into the water, but it’d make the regeneration process much slower. Not to mention awkward.

Suddenly, she felt itch in her toes. Looking down,she saw some dark shape nibbling on them.

The fish person saw the leg of his prey moving away from him in slow motion. If fish people had eyebrows, he’d raise one, but since the nature didn’t bless him with such sophisticated organs, he only reached to pull the leg back into his mouth. Big mistake. The leg suddenly came back to his face, hitting it with a wet crunch. More wet than crunch, since sounds don’t carry well underwater.

The fish person flailed its arms, trying to reach the girl in front of him. Due to blood flowing from his mouth, he hardly noticed her transformation. There was now purple webbing between her fingers and toes. She also grew quite impressive fangs. One of them ripped the fish person’s fin apart.

The instinct kicked in, recognising the smell of an old enemy. The fish person turned away, swimming as fast as possible and leaving a bloody trail behind him. There was no way that siren could catch him now…

A pair of muscular legs wrapped around his neck. Before he could react, they moved rapidly upwards, yanking his head. With a loud snap, the spine broke in two. The fish person thrashed a few times before finally going limp.

Aria Blaze smirked, holding a lifeless body in her hands. She was alive and, as usual after having to regenerate, pretty pissed. She eyed the body and licked her lips; it was old and stringy, but she couldn’t afford to complain.

After all, rebuilding her own body required nutrients.

“Are you hungry?” Sunset asked, walking into her living room. Trixie, who was sitting on the couch, nodded. They’d dropped Rainbow Dash somewhere on the way – as soon as they realised there were more fish people hanging out in the town, she decided to go back and look for Fluttershy and Applejack.

“Trixie is always hungry,” Trixie replied. “Though now I’m thinking what are all those fish people doing here. There must be some magic behind it.”

“Definitely,” Sunset said, putting an old tome on the table. “I already wrote to Twilight Sparkle asking about them.”

“This should do.” Trixie nodded. “Maybe she’d come and help us deal with her.” She lay on the couch. “You’ve mentioned food, right?”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Sunset muttered. “Remember we have fish people to deal with.”

“Why we?” Trixie asked. “This town has police. We can get an army here. I guess some smartasses in the crisis management unit thingy are already making plans. Assuming they don’t have one already.”

“Magic,” Sunset replied. “Crisis management was enough for Moondancer, or the Great Girl Scout Uprising, but this time we’ll need magic to fight those creatures.”

“Chronic hero.” Trixie sighed and rolled her eyes.

“What?” Sunset asked. Before Trixie could reply, the book on the table started to vibrate. “It seems that Twilight found a solution.” Sunset opened the book and they both looked at the message.

Dear Sunset Shimmer,

Spike here. Twilight is currently pretty busy with an invasion of mind-controlled filly scouts. However, I managed to talk to her and she says that fish people usually live in the depths of seas and never go to the land, unless summoned by some powerful magical artifact. She also says that you should contact her human counterpart. She should be quite helpful.

Good luck,
Spike

Sunset slammed the book shut. “Ponyfeathers…” she muttered. “Horseapples…”

Trixie raised her hand. “Is that what you ponies say when you mean–”

“Fuck!” Sunset exclaimed.

“Yeah, that.”

Sunset hid her face in her hands. “I screwed up.”

“How so?” Trixie asked. “It’s her who is busy. And we always have that other Twilight to talk to.” She thought for a moment. “Wait… It’s about washing machines, right?”

Sunset nodded.

“You did it on her washing machine?” Trixie sat closer to Sunset, who nodded again.

“Did she see it?”

“Yeah.”

“She hates you now?”

“Probably.”

Trixie licked her lips, unzipping her skirt with her left hand while wrapping the other arm around Sunset. “You looked into her eyes as you came, watching her innocence shatter into a million of tiny little pieces?”

“Well, that’s exactly what– Oh, God fucking damn it, Trixie!” Sunset exclaimed, seeing where Trixie’s left hand was and what it was doing there. “On a side note, who is this God you people keep talking about?”

"He's like Santa Claus, except with bigger elves and more torture." Trixie shrugged. “I’ll tell you later.” She cleared her throat. “Trixie thinks we should go to Twilight anyway and hope she realises that the safety of our word is more important. After we’re done she can hate you as much as she wants.”

Sunset sighed. “That didn’t really help.”

“Who cares?” Trixie got up and zipped her skirt back. “Come on, Sunset, we have a trip to make.”

Flash walked out of the rehearsal hall, carrying a guitar case to his car. Ringo, the bassist of Flash Drive, followed him, muttering something to himself. His eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, were focused on the floor. As far as Flash knew, he was probably coming up with a bass riff that’d make all the girls throw their bras on the stage… if they actually could hear it.

Only after a while, Brawly Beats walked out of the hall, barely visible from behind all the drums he was carrying. “Would you guys wait?” he asked. “You always run after the show to fuck groupies and leave me with those…”

“Such is the fate of guys who can’t comprehend anything more sophisticated than banging a stick against a piece of plastic,” Ringo replied.

“Dude, you play bass,” Brawly Beats muttered. “You can’t teach me about sophistication.”

“Oh please.” Flash, who was almost by his car, turned back to his bandmates. “Stop arguing guys. Everyone knows that the guitarists are the most important.”

“Well, that stunt with female underwear really helped our publicity, I must admit,” Ringo said with a smirk. “You should totally do that again, Flash.”

“Not a chance,” Flash replied. “Though you’re free to do that.”

Ringo’s smirk grew even wider. “If you ask me nicely…”

“Guys, did someone order plutonium from Libyans?” Brawly Beats asked, pointing at the white and blue van approaching them. Before Flash and Ringo could reply, a green-haired girl poked her head out of one of the windows. Followed by hands holding a grenade launcher.

Flash’s eyes widened. “Oh fudge,” he muttered, ducking as the grenade hit his car, sending it flying. He jumped to the side, tackling Ringo just before a stream of bullets from an assault rifle hit the concrete in the place where the bassist was standing.

“What the hell…” Flash looked at the green-haired girl, who was trying to reload the grenade launcher amidst the flames from the wreck of Flash’s car.

“Who cares?” Brawly threw a cymbal at the girl. It left a deep cut on her forehead and made her drop a grenade, which exploded, throwing the van off course and sending it into the nearby lamppost.

The sound of torn metal and breaking glass woke up Flash. He turned away and started running, followed by bullets of the Eco Kids, who ditched their car and were now chasing the hapless members of Flash Drive. He hid behind the corner and jumped over some wall, climbing on the roof of some shed. From there, he could see a short, green girl wearing a tank top and a bandana and holding an assault rifle which was almost bigger than her.

He ducked, seeing her aiming at him. Several bullets hit the wall behind him as he ran, hiding behind the chimneys. Another burst whistled past him as he rolled on the roof, which had no other use than to look awesome.

Flash looked around. There was a higher building nearby, with a pretty convenient metal ladder on the wall. However, he’d have to run to get there, and he just noticed the girl had a few grenades attached to her belt. There was only one way. Unfortunately, down.

Flash darted from behind the chimney and jumped off the building. Halfway through, he thought that finally he was lucky; there were some cardboard boxes stashed on the ground. Unfortunately, he pierced one of them and fell inside, accompanied by a loud crack of his ankle. Screaming, he collapsed on the mattress, his head landing right in front of some orange butt, dressed in panties with small hearts on them.

“What the–” The owner of the panties woke up and looked at Flash. “What are you doing here?”

Flash had to think for a while before he remembered the girl’s name. “Scootaloo!” he exclaimed. “Some psycho wants to shoot me!”

“That’s not a reason to pierce through my ceiling like that,” Scootaloo replied, getting up. “A psycho, you say?”

“Yeah. With an assault rifle.”

“Interesting. Stay here, dude.” Scootaloo grabbed her mobile phone and got out of the cardboard bedroom. After a while of shuffling through the boxes, Flash heard the sound of frantic steps and clicking of the gun.

“Hello.” Scootaloo’s voice was followed by the sound of the phone’s camera. “Would you kindly put that away? You’ll shoot your eye out.”

“No,” Starlight replied. “I need to kill some motherfucker.”

Scootaloo chuckled. “I hardly think so.”

“Out of my way!” Starlight exclaimed. “Or–”

Scootaloo’s phone beeped. “Your photo with a gun and enough grenades to level a small school just got sent to the local police department,” Scootaloo said. “It usually takes them seven minutes to get there. I’d use that time to disappear. I’ve heard girls your age are worth up to two boxes of cigarettes in any female prison.”

“You didn’t–”

“I did,” Scootaloo replied. “Don’t look at me like that. I live in a cardboard box, I have nothing to lose.”

There was a brief moment of pause. To Flash, it seemed that it lasted ages.

“Okay,” Starlight said. “I’ll go and look for him somewhere else.”

“Good girl,” Scootaloo muttered. After a bit of more shuffling of the cardboard boxes, she came back to Flash. “There, dude. She won’t come back here soon.”

“I can’t exactly walk away,” Flash said, pointing at his swollen ankle. “Would you be so kind and call some help or something?”

Scootaloo’s eyes lit up. “Even better,” she replied. “I can give you a massage.”

“Will it help me?”

Scootaloo tossed her slippers aside, revealing her small, proportionally-built feet. Flash looked at her unsurely; it wasn’t common for him to be in a big cardboard box with a barely legal girl wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties.

“Take your pants off,” Scootaloo said. “I’ll help you relax and your ankle won’t hurt anymore.”

“Umm… if you say so…” Flash unzipped his trousers and pulled them down. Scootaloo smirked.

“That’s the same symbol as the one on your car.” She pointed at his boxers. “Getting a little vain, aren’t we?”

“What?” Flash looked at his underwear and realising that some parts of him liked the whole situation more than he did. Luckily, it wasn’t that visible yet, as the blood only started to relocate to that particular area.

“Don’t worry, Sci-Twi also wears custom underwear.” Scootaloo chuckled, lifting her leg. Flash darted back, thinking that she was going to kick him, but she only poked his dick with her toes.

“Oh, come on,” Flash said. “It’s my ankle that needs help…”

“Really?” Scootaloo asked. “I think this is pretty swollen too…” She grabbed his boxers with her toes and pulled them down, revealing his dick to the whole world, standing proudly. “Yeah, what I thought…” She sat in front of Flash, rubbing her panties, and wrapped her feet around his cock.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Flash muttered, but at the same moment, Scootaloo stroked his dick, rubbing her feet against it. “Seriously…”

Scootaloo continued to move her feet up and down, moaning silently. The front of her panties became wet, and Flash realised that his dick was also oozing precum. Scootaloo grabbed a bottle of lube and poured some of it on her feet, increasing the pace.

Flash moaned. The touch of Scootaloo’s feet was a completely new experience for him and soon he felt pressure building up in his balls, gently massaged with Scootaloo’s heels. He moaned. Scootaloo slid her hand in her panties, masturbating in front of him. She took a deep breath, and groaned, her face red. She raised her hand, now coated in juices, and put it in her mouth, sucking on her fingers.

“Scootaloo…” Flash panted. Thinking unsexy thoughts didn’t help, compared to this. I’m gonna…” Suddenly, a wave of semen shot out of his dick, splashing on Scootaloo’s feet and her mattress. Flash gave out another moan and collapsed on the makeshift bed, panting as Scootaloo squeezed his penis with her feet, pushing every last drop of cum out of it.

“Whoa…” Scootaloo muttered, gathering some cum from her leg with her finger and licking it. “Not bad, dude.”

“Umm… Thanks?” Flash blushed. “Can I go now?”

“Already?” Scootaloo asked. “I was hoping for a second round. With more than feet.”

Flash looked down. He wanted to look at his feet, but his dick was on the way, so he looked at it. “Umm… I’m not sure I can…”

“Don’t worry.” Scootaloo reached to a small cardboard box next to her bed and produced some blue pills from it.

“Viagra?” Flash asked. “I’m not sixty!”

“Better.” Scootaloo chuckled. “They’ll make us have a magical night…” She put a pill on her tongue and purred, swallowing it.

“Oh no,” Flash muttered. “Last time I took those, I woke up in female underwear.”

“Don’t worry.” Scootaloo gave him the pill. “It’s only us two here. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Flash looked at the pill, then at Scootaloo, and then back at the pill. “To think about it…”

“Please!” Flash didn’t think Scootaloo’s eyes could get any bigger, but apparently they did.

Flash sighed and swallowed the pill. “Goodbye, consciousness!”

It is a commonly known fact that fish people can’t speak in a language understandable to land-based human beings. However, if they could, the conversation going on between two of them floating in the depths of the ocean, would go more or less like this:

“I have bad news for thee, brother Jeremiah,” the smaller fish person said.

“What is that, brother Barabbas?” the old fish person with fraying, grey fins asked, turning his eyes to his young companion.

“Our sniffers found the skeleton of the late brother Habakkuk,” Barabbas replied. “Woe is me, brother Jeremiah! They say that the late brother Habakkuk, may his name never be forgotten, was devoured by a wicked siren!”

“A siren, thou say?” Jeremiah nodded slowly, his white eyes staring in the unknown depths. “Thou must be mistaken. We hath observed this universe for aeons, and no siren hath ever shown up to bother our humble colony.”

“Sniffers art never wrong,” Barabbas replied. “There is a fierce and lustful siren in those very depths! They also sniffed more of them on the great land beyond the water kingdom.”

The old fish person chuckled, sending some air bubbles around. “Now thou are just saying malarkey, brother Barabbas. Not a single siren ever lived among the land people like brother and sister. They’re twisted, wretched creatures that only crave one thing!” Jeremiah’s eyes lit up as the old man got carried by the wave of saint anger. “That is, an everlasting, perpetuum mobile cock riding their, as those eternal whores know no life but filthy pleasure and no master but their own, throbbing cunt! They–”

Barabbas never learned what else Jeremiah had to say about sirens. Too focused on the old fish person’s words, he didn’t notice a dark shape emerging from the depth and sinking its teeth in Jeremiah’s liver, ripping it out along with some flesh.

Aria turned to Barabbas and smiled, her face covered in blood of dying Jeremiah. “Well, that toad-faced fool wasn’t exactly right,” she said. “We do have other organs we have to listen. For example, stomachs.” With these words, she tackled Barabbas and bit through his carotid artery as he uselessly flailed his arms around. The spurt of blood hid her from the eyes of others as she started devouring her prey.

With the screeching of the brakes, Trixie’s Volkswagen skidded to a halt in front of a large house surrounded by a wall made of red brick. Several bricks fell out of the walls, and were lying on the pavement. Sunset got out of the car, took one of the bricks and broke it in half.

“Twice the distance, same damage,” she said, seeing Trixie’s gaze.

“Trixie will keep that in mind when she wants to throw a brick at someone.” Trixie looked at the house. “Twilight seriously lives here?”

“More or less,” Sunset replied. “She used to live in some storage room in Crystal Prep, but then she had to find something more suitable. Not sure why she chose this particular house. The neighbours are fine, but it’s really easy to break into this house.”

Trixie cleared her throat. “Not that safer houses ever stopped you. And it’s better to knock first, you know.”

“Well…” Sunset stopped trying to open the door with her credit card and knocked.

“Don’t bother,” Trixie said. “She’s not home.”

Sunset turned to Trixie and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: you deduced that from the store leaflets piling up in her mailbox?”

“That too,” Trixie replied. “She also left a sticky note saying ‘I’m not home’. On a side note, Trixie must admit she has a really nice handwriting.”

Sunset furrowed her eyebrows. “What is that thing with God that humans are saying when someone is fucking retarded?”

“Goddamit?”

Sunset sighed. “Goddamit, Twilight. You’re asking to be robbed, right here.” She took the leaflets and the sticky note. “Well, if she’s not here, then where can she be? Trixie?” She looked at her friend and saw that Trixie wasn’t with her. Instead, Trixie ran to some woman standing by her car.

“Don’t let that filthy cur pee on Trixie’s wheels!” she exclaimed, trying to kick a dog, who just claimed Trixie’s car as his territory. The owner of the dog backpedalled slightly.

Sunset recognised her immediately. “Dean Cadance? What are you doing with Twilight’s dog?”

“Twilight asked me to take care of Spike,” Cadance replied. “She said she had to go somewhere and turned her phone off before I could ask her about that. Do you know where she is?”

“We just wanted to check on her,” Trixie replied. “Did she leave any clues?”

“I’m afraid not,” Cadance replied. “I’m a bit worried about her.” She yanked Spike’s leash. “Not to mention that I have to deal with that smelly thing…”

“That’s a rude thing to say about the dog…” Sunset muttered.

“Spike?” Cadance asked. “No, not him. I mean my daughter. Now I at least have an excuse to leave her with Shining, but it usually ends up with them ruining the whole house.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Sunset said. “But don’t worry, we’ll find Twilight. I think.”

“I’d be grateful.” Cadance walked away, chasing Spike as he darted forward, bored of the conversation.

“Just great,” Trixie muttered, opening her car. “Twilight is missing, and fish people are taking over. What do we do now? Call the cops?”

Sunset shrugged. “Guess we’ll ask in a few places first…”

Flash slowly opened his eyes. The world was spinning around him; he could even hear the sounds coming from a couple of nearby planets. Due to the blue pills, he wasn’t sure exactly what happened to him, but the smell in the cardboard box, as well as the fact that Scootaloo was sleeping on the mattress next to him told him that a lot of things did happen.

“Holy shit…” he muttered, seeing her next to him. Then he found his phone and took a selfie, just to have a proof that it really happened.

A few minutes later he thought that he didn’t know if Ringo and Brawly Beats survived the meeting with Eco Kids. If they didn’t, he wouldn’t have anyone to show the selfie to. Not to mention that finding a new bassist and drummer would be a nuisance. After some considerations, he decided to go and check out on them.

“Scootaloo?” he asked, realising that she was lying on his hand. “Could you–”

“Go back to sleep honey,” Scootaloo muttered. “Unless Mini Sentry is ready for another shot.”

“Maybe later,” Flash replied. He still wasn’t sure about all the details of the night, but he thought that putting a bag of ice on his balls would be a nice idea. “Can you at least let me free my hand? I need to call Ringo.”

“You have the other hand,” Scootaloo replied. “And boy, you can do wonders with it.”

Flash blushed. He was about to call Ringo, when someone knocked at the cardboard door. Flash looked at it, then at Scootaloo, but she apparently wasn’t going to move. Someone knocked again.

“Come in!” Flash exclaimed. “It’s not like it’s locked or anything.”

The door opened and Flash heard steps, as someone walked to the bedroom. When the person showed up, Flash blinked; it wasn’t someone he’d expected.

“Sergeant Copper Top, police,” the pale violet, red-haired policewoman said. “We’re investigating the shootout that happened here yesterday.”

Flash finally managed to yank his numb arm from under Scootaloo. He sat on the bed. “Yeah, a bunch of stoned eco-terrorists tried to shoot me and my friends. I can even give you the names.”

Copper Top removed her sunglasses and looked at Scootaloo. “Is that girl legal?”

Flash looked at Scootaloo. “Umm… I’m not sure?”

“I guess you’ll come to the station with me, then,” Copper Top said.

“What?” Flash exclaimed. “I was shot at! Not to mention that they destroyed my car!”

Copper Top raised her eyebrows. “The one with a lightning painted on the hood?”

“Yes, that one. Can I tell you the names of those people?”

“A witness told us that someone driving such car ran over a girl recently,” Copper Top said. “You’ll come with me, Mr.–”

“Sentry,” Flash said. “I’m not going with you. I know my rights.”

The next thing Flash saw were the electrodes of a taser approaching him much faster than he’d like. Then he fell back on the bed, screaming and twitching.

The handcuffs closed on his wrist. “You have the right to shut the fuck up, filthy pedo,” Copper Top muttered. “You can also get a lawyer, and you probably will, because they’re all amoral cunts. You’ll have a justful trial, and then we’ll shoot you anyway, because that’s how we roll, motherfucker. Come on, we need to get back to the station before all the cool cells are taken. I think we arrested Diamond Dudes recently. They’ll like your company.” She grabbed Flash and dragged him away.

Scootaloo opened her eyes and sat on her bed. Then she grabbed a small box where she kept her most important belongings. She opened it and, after a while of shifting through the stuff, she found a blue plastic card explicitly stating that she was born in late nineties in Gadsby, Alberta.

“Huh,” she muttered to herself. “I probably should’ve told Ms. Policewoman that I’m legal.” She shrugged and went back to sleep.

Aria laughed, chasing away another group of fish people. She lost track of how far she had gotten from the shore, but she didn’t care. Here, in the depths, she was the big fish.

Quite literally. After eating a few more fish people, her moves became sluggish and she could barely keep up with them. She also realised her transformation into a siren was not complete; in fact, she was still mostly human, just with gills, bigger teeth, fin-like hands, and, as far as she could tell, a swim bladder next to the uterus. This pissed her off greatly since, even though her metabolism went into overdrive to resupply the organism after regenerating most of the skull, she couldn’t fit much in her human stomach.

Sighing, Aria swam deeper into the ocean, hoping to hide on the bottom, bury herself in sand, and digest the fish people. Then she’d catch some plankton for a change, and think about what to do later.

However, the water around her grew colder and suddenly, she saw the place where all the fish people were going. It was a deep and dark part of the ocean – Aria usually liked such places, but when her eyes adjusted to darkness, she suddenly thought that going back to the land would be a nice idea.

“Well, we’re all fucked…” she muttered to herself.

Author's Notes:

Anyone from Gadsby, Alberta here? Folks there are fine, I think. All 25 of them.