It doesn’t take them very long after leaving Short Road’s group before the trio catches sight of the Hoofington Arena in the still early morning light. And, surprisingly to Gearing, they don’t run into any more trouble along the way. Which is a good thing given how useless Handy is currently, as he’s sprawled out over Swift’s back. Their path is free from any other issues as well. Not so much as a wayward oversized roach disturbs them. In fact a very definitive, and mostly clean, walking path, that’s more than large enough for carts and wagons to come and go, leads straight up to the main entrance of the old sports complex. Unlike many other roads that still have two century old wreckage on it hampering movement, these paths have had extreme pains taken to make, and keep, them clear for traffic. And, even from a distance, the trio can see a variety of creatures coming and going around the iconic nearly egg shaped structure.

Swift strolls next to Gearing at a casual pace, despite Handy still slung over her back, as she asks, “You ever visit this place back before the war?”

Gearing gives a quick shake of his head. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Fucking hated sports… such a waste of time…” Gearing grumbles with a particularly sour scowl.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head slowly lays down as his head droops. ‘Man, I feel so tired… Drained even… like a spark battery that’s about to die… What’s going on? I don’t hurt anymore, that little cocktail worked a treat. Like it always does. But now I’m just feeling… bleh… foggy headed like I’m not all here. I feel… light, but in a bad way…’

Side effect from the enervation? Gearing mentally wonders.

‘Didn’t really start noticing it until the Hydra Protocol ended... after that it’s felt like I’d lost a lot of energy in the process.’

That’s never happened before.

‘It’s like the caffeine crash that others kept talking about... Feeling great with sudden energy and then, bam, when it wears off feeling even worse than before...’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head groans.

This is weird, and problematic. I can move fine but I just feel...

‘Thin?’ the little pegasus offers.

Yeah...

‘Uhg’ is the only reply he gets as the little pegasus doesn’t even seem to have the energy to carry on the conversation at the moment.

Swift stares at him as her jaw drops. After a few moments of bewilderment, and his continued silence, she asks, “What? I’d figure you’d be great at it!”

Gearing looks at her sideways as he lets out a long sigh. He shakes his head slowly and then replies, “That’s part of the problem… Either I was so over-the-top good in a category that it’d cause people to start asking too many questions… Or I sucked at it so bad that I wasn’t even competitive. There really was no in-between…” He shrugs as he goes back to looking over the arena. “In fact, I was actually banned from all forms of competition as a matter of course…” He finishes by muttering quietly, “And official policy…”

Swift’s eyes widen to their max as she asks, “Do what?! You weren’t allowed to play any games?!”

“Nope,” Gearing replies matter-of-factly. “Nothing competitive in the least.”

‘Yeah… not even card games,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in as he grins wryly and lays out on his back on a mind cloud with his forelegs behind his head as he continues grumbling. ‘But we’ll leave that little tidbit, and the reason why, out of the conversation for now…’

Swift frowns as she follows his gaze to the egg-shaped building and comments, “That just doesn’t seem fair…”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “It’s okay… I hated sports anyway… I’d rather be reading or something else…”

They pause their conversation as they get closer to the old sports complex and take in the view. Around the entire thing is a tall thick metal fence. It originally helped with crowd control, but now double dips and serves as a rather useful line of defense. The vertical bars are close enough together that most things wouldn’t be able to get between them. Nothing larger than a typical house cat anyway. The main entrance on this side sits up a small private drive from the road, and the gate is wide enough for the comfortable traffic of three lanes of wagons. But, at this bottleneck, the current occupants have set up a checkpoint where those coming and going have to pass through to get through.

And, strangely to Gearing at least given the Reaper’s reputation, the flow of traffic is relatively mundane and calm. There’s a few rambunctious conversations going on between those coming and going, but it feels almost civilized to Gearing. And not the powder keg just waiting for a spark, any spark, to blow that he’d expected thus far. A fact that only serves to confuse him even more as he sees several ponies walking out of the complex wearing a style of attire that he’s gotten used to killing on sight: spiky intimidation. Along with unmistakable hide armor. Ponyhide. Just to be sure, Gearing quickly kicks on his EFS, and looks at the pair out of the corner of his eye. But, no, their marker shows them as non hostile. After confirming that they don’t seem to be planning on ambushing him, he drops the enchantment and his focus returns to the pair.

Just in time to catch eye contact with the mare as she looks over at him sideways.

The smile on her muzzle grows slightly as the two look at each other. It’s almost flirtatious with the way her grin is actually inviting him. But, regardless of what most others might think, the invitation isn’t something most of equinity would willingly partake in. Her slow steady walk. The calculated cadence of her hooves on the ground. It’s an unmistakable mark of confidence that Gearing can’t ignore. The knowledge, and willingness, to unleash a level of destruction most couldn’t even fathom, let alone survive. She can more than hold her own in a fight. She knows it. Gearing knows it. And, more importantly in the moment, she knows that Gearing knows. But, even so, the invitation stands.

A sweet alluring invitation to death itself is written across her lips. All you have to do is try her, and she’ll be happy to oblige. And Gearing can’t help thinking that unlike all the others wearing similar attire that he’s dealt with these last few weeks, this pair’s attire isn’t just for show. By Gearing’s appraisal, if these two were action figures they would be the original official merchandise, whereas the rest are simply cheap imitation knock-offs manufactured by the Flim Flam brothers.

But, after the two continue past each other, yet each keeping tabs on the other the whole time, the tension fades as they both have their own business to attend to at the moment. And neither of them is interested in picking an unnecessary fight here. So they continue on their way on their respective paths and leave it at that.

As Swift and Gearing are approaching the checkpoint, a bored looking buck sitting next to the table comments to Gearing, “You know, eyeballing a Reaper like that’s likely to get your ass kicked, if not killed.”

Swift smirks as she says, “Awww, nah, I think she was just flirting with him.”

“Then you’re flirting with death,” the buck quickly quips.

Gearing stares at the buck blankly and replies, “She knew what I was doing.”

“That’s even worse,” the buck says with a frown.

“What was?” a mare stepping out of the shipping container turned mobile building behind him asks.

The buck turns sideways and nods towards Gearing as he says, “He was eyeballing someone he really shouldn’t have been.”

The mare looks over at Gearing, sizes him up a bit, and frowns lightly as she keeps staring at the golden colored plates all over him. And the more she sees the less she apparently likes. “What? Trying to start a fight or something?” She leans over the table and looks down the path towards the road. Her eyes go wide before she asks, “How didn’t a fight break out if he was staring at her of all ponies?!”

“I wasn’t staring at her. I was keeping an eye on her. There’s a difference. She knew I was acknowledging her skill, not trying to get under her tail… She seemed to like the fact I considered her a potential serious threat,” Gearing says with a dismissive wave of a hoof.

The buck waves it away and shakes his head. “Well, whatever, you get your ass kicked or not, it’s your business.” He taps on the table and adds, “I haven’t seen you before. Check in your ranged weapons here. You can pick them up on the way out. We’ll lock them up in the container behind me.”

Gearing narrows his eyes a bit as he asks, “Another place I gotta dump all my weapons before entering? Seriously?”

Swift grins as she looks at Gearing sideways. “Should I get some popcorn for the show?”

The mare behind the table shakes her head. “Melee weapons are fine. Just no ranged weapons. No firearms, lasers, magical weapons, or anything that isn’t used to bash, slash, or stab someone. Things get messy if ranged weapons are involved. We don’t want idiots missing their targets and fucking up the arena.”

Swift shrugs. “Makes sense.” She pulls Handy’s Proditor’s Gladius from his holster and sets it on the table as she says, “That’s it for us.” She scrunches up her muzzle and nearly spits as she says, “I hate guns…” She holds up her powerhoof as the near snarl turns into a grin. “I prefer being up close and personal… To really feel the shit get knocked out of them…”

Gearing slowly narrows his eyes for a moment as he stares at the mare managing the weapons. She stares right back at him, deadpan in the face, and says flatly, “Don’t try and mean mug me. You’re not going to scare me. I’m around Reapers all day every day, so you’re going to have to step it up a notch if you’re going to even try fazing me.” She points at the table. “Hand’em over, or get lost and don’t bother coming back. Oooooor… you could try and force the issue, but I wouldn’t recommend it since, you know, you’re basically surrounded by Reapers…”

Swift smirks as she looks at the mare and says, “They’re even closer than you think.” But the comment doesn’t draw so much as a blink from the mare.

Gearing slides his rifle off of his shoulder and sets it upright on the table as he asks, “You want this too? Because until I get it fixed it’s not useful as anything more than a club.”

“How’d that barrel get so bent?!” asks the buck as his eyes jump wide open.

“Shipping container fell on me with the mistaken impression that that would do anything more than piss me off…”

“Riiiiight,” the mare comments with a tone clearly indicating they don’t believe a single word of it. “Nah, go ahead and keep it. If you’re dumb enough to try and use that wreck as a gun, you deserve the ass beating you’ll get for it. Assuming it doesn’t blow up in your face.” She points at the extra worn saddle bags over Gearing’s back where she can clearly see something poking out. “What about that stuff?”

Swift looks at it and shrugs as she comments, “It’s some crap I got off a few assholes that ambushed a caravan. Figured I’d trade it inside for some stuff we need.”

The mare looks over at Swift and frowns. “If you want to go sell your crap, go to Megamart. Finders love doing that kinda shit. You’ll waste a lot of time just trying to find someone in here that wants to buy your crap. And if you’re looking to buy something, and they don’t already know you, they’ll want caps, not junk.”

Gearing looks over at Swift and raises an eyebrow. Swift rolls her eyes and waves it away with a forehoof limply as she answers his unspoken question, “Just give’em the whole damn bag then. I’ll just trade it off once we’re back at Megamart.”

Gearing nods, takes off the saddle bag full of still bloody gear, and drops it on the table with a loud deep toned thunk. As the mare is grabbing the surrendered bag, Gearing pulls out an old revolver from where he had it kept in place between his saddle bag and his body. He notices the raised eyebrow from Swift and comments, “What? You weren’t using it.” She snickers and rolls her eyes as he puts it on the table. When the mare reaches for it, he quickly puts his hoof back on top of it, drawing her attention. The two lock eyes for a moment before Gearing says coldly, “Me having weapons gives me options. It’s a kindness. But I’ve had one hell of a bad day, and the way I’m feeling right now if anyone makes me feel like I need a gun they’re gonna wish I had one on me so at least then it’d be quick.”

The mare glares at him in the eye, not backing down an inch, but as she stares at the way his eyes change a smile breaks across her muzzle. A smile with actual glee beaming from it. “Damn, buck, that’s more like it! Gave me a shiver and a tingle. You keep that attitude up and eventually you might make it in yourself!”

Swift scrunches up her muzzle before she asks, “You gonna give them the old No Shoes treatment?”

“No Shoes?” the mare asks as she looks over at Swift.

Gearing shakes his head. “No Shoes got off easy by comparison.”

The buck sitting next to the table pauses writing up a receipt as he asks, “You know No Shoes?”

“Unfortunately,” Gearing grumbles.

The mare asks, “He a Reaper yet? Last I heard he was close.”

“Oh, he got in. Big Daddy was there when he fought his last fight out at the Freight Cars Junction,” Gearing replies.

“Good. Asshole owes me some caps so he needs to hurry back,” the mare comments.

The buck filling out the receipt looks between them as he wonders aloud, “Big Daddy’s already back… Why didn’t No Shoes come with him? If it was me I’d be in a rush to get the real party started.”

The mare looks at him, and then looks over at Gearing as she raises an eyebrow as the question makes her wonder some things as well. Gearing simply pulls his hoof off the pistol, finally letting her take it, as he looks her in the eye and says flatly, “Ask Big Daddy about it if you want… but don’t lose any sleep waiting up for No Shoes to get here…”

“Uh…. Huh…” the mare comments as the phrasing starts making her question quite a few things.

“Well as long as I don’t gotta clean up the mess, whatever…” Swift turns and starts facing in towards the main doors as she asks, “So are we done here, or do you two wanna flirt some more?”

Gearing looks at the mare and raises an eyebrow as he waits for her to say something else. But she doesn’t. As they are looking at each other the buck to the side finishes his write up and waves the paper over in between the two of them. “Hey, here’s your check in paper. Don’t lose it if you want your shit back.” As Gearing is taking it the buck adds, “There’s a couple other Halfhearts inside already. They checked in a while ago before you got here.”

Gearing starts to stow the paper as he says, “Thanks. Hopefully they got some spare parts I can get off them.” He nods towards the entrance before he asks, “We good to go?” The buck nods and waves him off before going back to sitting there and looking bored.

As Swift and Gearing start trotting off, the checkpoint mare asks, “What’s the Halfhearts have to do with anything?”

The buck looks at her sideways and asks, “Didn’t notice the charm on that busted up rifle of his?” She looks over at Gearing’s retreating form and shrugs. The buck chuckles as he comments, “It’s hard to intimidate someone who’s basically given up on life.”

The mare rolls her eyes as she scoops up the items and takes them into the improvised armory. “Whatever… That bullshit shiny armor of his says otherwise… probably a real whiney crypony.”

The buck points down at the ground before he says, “Pieces of bloody bone fell out of the gaps in his leg armor while he was standing here. I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you…”

After they get through the outer doors, there’s a long tunnel that leads to the field. Gearing slows down as images of the past start playing before his very eyes. In some cases they entirely replace his vision. This isn’t the exact same as what he remembers, but it’s very similar to another sports complex. And he can’t help but feeling a bit uneasy as he remembers the last time we walked through one of these tunnels, and how he got jumped by a group of disgruntled tryouts. They were angry at him and, apparently, thought he was a threat to their future careers. He can’t help but wonder how they felt, for the rest of their lives, knowing that they themselves had killed any chance of ever achieving their goals.

Let alone how they’d feel knowing their ambush helped get him the job that he ended up getting.

He finds the sudden nostalgia confusing as it was so randomly triggered. Which helps to make the feeling fade. To Gearing, his mind space stops hogging up his focus as he actually takes in the tunnel’s sights. While it’s definitely older, and has similar construction, it’s definitely a lot cleaner than they’d left that tunnel after their fight during the Shadowbolt tryouts. Although, there are a lot of posters and adverts for hoofball teams that have a considerable amount of graffiti on them. So the lack of trash and debris is a notable sign of effort on their part, instead of complete vacancy.

And then they emerge out into the bright light of the stadium's interior. Causing Gearing to zip his head up at a familiar sight. But, it doesn’t take him long, disappointingly so, to figure out that it’s an enchanted ceiling, and not the clear open skies that he’s been used to for the majority of his life. But, still, it’s rather nice to see, even if it is artificial in nature. The clear sunlight is even enough to make the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head stir with a slight smile, despite how bad they’re both feeling.

Gearing and Swift look around as they take in the interior of the Hoofington Arena and slowly advance. There are far more ponies here than they’d expected. Not exactly to standing room only, not by a long shot, but a considerable number of individuals nonetheless. There is obviously far less than the stadium could hold, since its original seating capacity was more accurately measured in ‘tens of thousands’, but more creatures in a single spot than most locations in the current age for sure. All over there are tents, shacks, and camping areas set up. A bona fide shanty town, at least by prewar standards, inside of one of Hoofington’s biggest attractions. The exceptions to that are the field, which looks nearly identical to how it was during the war, and the box seating areas where VIPs could enjoy the entertainment without having to deal with the rest of equinity. And, unlike those two, the regular stadium seating areas have been transformed entirely. The original seats had been ripped out, and in their place a number of platforms and other structures had been constructed. And it doesn’t take the pair long before they start recognizing a couple of the symbols of the different groups. And Gearing notices and recognizes a couple of the symbols, quickly, as being related to a few of the gangs around the Hoofington region.

Swift leans sideways before she asks and while Gearing is still standing there looking around, “So? What ya think of the place now that you’re actually here?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, ‘Underwhelming… I still don’t get the point of it all. Didn’t back then. Certainly don’t now…” He waves around with a hoof as he says, “At least they’re using the space effectively… Would be a shame if they didn’t take advantage of the fact that they could use it to keep a roof over so many heads... And if they’re smart they’re using the field as an added food source too…”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head looks around and asks softly, ‘Is it just me, or is that itching entirely gone? I mean, I’ve been feeling it here and there. And now that I know what to look out for it’s really noticeable… but… in here… there’s notta…’

Gearing lets out a sigh as he mentally adds, No enervation in here would mean it’d be a good place to rest up and recoup.

Gearing starts walking slowly and looking around as he keeps taking in the scenery: the various gangs and groups hanging out and talking, a variety of merchants that’d stopped by to trade with them, ponies all over sparing, with and without weapons. All of them seem to be in pretty high spirits. Especially since the gangs, as far as he was aware, were so territorial that in normal situations they’d be fighting each other to the death in the streets at times. So to see them camped across from each other in a practically civil manner is strange to say the least.

As they continue walking they listen carefully to those around them as they try to get a feel for the area. It’s not lost on either of them exactly where they are, and its potential dangers. On some level they’re hoping they haven’t just trotted into a trap. So they’re staying extra vigilant as they look for any signs of an incoming ambush. But everywhere they look all they really see is groups or individuals more concerned with their own affairs than others.

But then a pair set to pass in front of them draws their attention.

A purple mare with her mane entirely cut off walks next to a brown earth pony as they continue talking about some kind of food between themselves. But it’s mostly garbled and lost in the ambient noise except when she violently shakes her head and yells, “Fuck no I ain’t trying that purple shit, looks unnatural.”

And the brown buck simply laughs as he adds, “Yeah, that lumpy shit looks like road apples… I ain’t touching it either… I don’t care what he says. The name alone sounds disgusting…”

The last thing either Swift or Gearing hear from them, despite tilting their ears to follow the conversation and blatantly eavesdropping, is the mare spitting off to the side and laughing, “Yeah, it’s probably full of taint!”

Not far away there’s a buck walking around with a neck strap mounted vendor tray, like the ones that used to get used during the old hoofball games for selling snacks and souvenirs in the stands. But instead of popcorn or hats, the buck has a pile of lumpy purple almost hoof-sized orbs in it. He tries going one way and then another, but pretty much everyone he gets near turns their nose in disgust and quickly avoids him when they see the weirdness he’s carrying. Other times he’s the one avoiding them as the stares he receives promise death if he so much as speaks to them.

He sees Gearing and Swift eyeballing him and, sensing an opportunity, quickly trots over towards them with a massive grin on his face as he says, “You there! Would you like to try a new delicious delicacy?! Of course you would! It’s got all the body needs, is super tasty, and, what’s more, it’s got a ridiculously long shelf life so feel free to stock up on lots of it!”

Gearing smirks and then raises the side of his lip in a bit of confusion edging on disgust as he asks, “Just what is that? It’s about the size of an apple but… that’s not an apple…”

Swift snuffs at the tray, and the response her nose gives her isn’t anywhere helpful as she keeps staring at them.

“Oh no, sir, it’s not an apple at all! This is my proprietary one-of-a-kind delicious fruit that I grow on my own farm!” the buck replies quickly with a nearly excited voice.

“But what the hell is it?” Swift asks as she can’t stop staring at them. “Is it even edible?”

“It’s a proprietary cross -only available by yours truly- that is especially hardy against the harshest of weather conditions and they even thrive in radiated areas!” the bucks replies with a quick hop as he looks back and forth between them. “And of course they are edible! In fact, I’ve been eating them pretty much exclusively since I discovered the wondrous treat!” He rears up and starts swaying as he grins. “And look at me! I’m as healthy as can be! All thanks to these wonderful purple marvels!”

Gearing looks the fruit over before looking up at the buck. “But exactly what is it a cross of?! It looks almost like a blackberry… except it has the tough thick skin of something like an orange… except it’s all warped and bulbous like a blueberry… while being the size of a big apple…”

The buck gives a sheepish smile before slowly lowering himself. “I… don’t know actually…” He lets out a sigh before he leans towards them and starts whispering. “Okay, look, I know it looks like something a hellhound shat out, but it’s really good!” He holds one up with a hoof as he says, “I found a patch growing and I was so hungry I just ate it anyway. And it’s really good! Hell, I took over the abandoned farm house near by… For all I know it’s a cross of all of the fruits that got warped together when the bombs fell or whatever. But, it really is good!” He looks around as he frowns. “But no one wants to give it a chance because of the way it looks and its weak smell…”

Swift recoils as she asks, “You’re selling radiated fruits?”

The buck waves his forehooves quickly as she shakes his head. “No! No no no! They aren’t! Or at least no more than other food grown in contaminated soil. But, it’s actually less than a lot of that! I’m serious!” He waves at her foreleg. “You got a PipBuck… Just eat one and you’ll be able to check your own rad level for yourself!” He gives her a wink as he says, “Just one taste and I’m sure you’ll be hooked!”

Gearing frowns as he asks, “Drugs?”

The buck rolls his eyes and then sighs as he says, “It’s just a sales pitch… I watched some vids from those Flim Flam Brothers on marketing tactics…” He holds up the fruit as he says, “But, honest, this stuff tastes great and once word gets out about how good it is I’m going to make a fortune!”

Swift looks over at Gearing and then at the buck before she asks, “And… just where’s this farm of yours at?”

The buck actually takes a step back and shields his tray of fruits from her as he lays his ears back and scowls. “Oh no! I’m not giving up the location! Why, so others can go and steal my crop? Or, worse, dig up the plants and go make their own farm and be competition? I don’t think so!”

Gearing chuckles as he looks at Swift, “He’s certainly territorial enough about it that he might be serious.”

The buck rolls his eyes as he says, “Of course I’m serious…”

Swift looks at him for a few moments, then at his fruits, before looking over at Gearing. “What ya think?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks at them. “Well, I think I could double check to make sure they’re safe once I get back to the lab if nothing else…” He looks up at the buck and gives a sheepish smile as he says, “I’m sorry, but I’ve been all over the world and I’ve never seen anything like that so I’m a bit paranoid about feeding it to kids.”

The buck perks up as he asks, “Ya got kids?”

Swift frowns as she says flatly, “Yeah…. Why?”

Gearing nods as he stares him in the eye. “Quite a few, and I’m not going to expose them to something until I’m sure exactly what it is and that it’s safe.”

The buck grabs a bag from his saddle bag at his side and starts dropping one fruit in after another. “That’s great! Here!” He quickly fills the bag half way and offers the bag to Gearing.

Gearing looks at it as he raises his eyebrow. “What? I didn’t say I was going to buy any, and you didn’t say how much you wanted.”

The buck grins wider as he says, “I know… but once your kids get a taste you’ll be back for more, and you’ll probably tell everyone about it…” He bobs his head before he leans in and gives him an oversized grin. “I’m so absolutely positive that your family will adore it, I’ll give you this for free just to try it out!”

“No strings attached?” Gearing asks as he narrows his eyes without moving a millimeter.

“Positively no strings attached at all!” the bucks says with a massive grin and a nod of his head. Then the grin turns sheepish before he says, “Well… actually…”

Swift rolls her eyes before she waves a hoof dismissively. “I fucking knew it… Gearing, don’t fall for this shit, this is more fishy than the river…”

The buck shakes his head quickly then waves the bag at Gearing. “Oh, no! I was going to say the string, that’s not really a string, honestly, it’s more like a… common courtesy or even a thank you… but definitely not a string-”

“Spit it out already,” Gearing says flatly.

“Please give it an honest try. Don’t just throw it out and waste it. I’d rather eat it myself than that. And if you like it, tell others about it because, honestly…” He looks around and sighs as he says, “No one around here’s willing to even give it a shot. They’re too paranoid that I’m trying to pull a fast one on them or something and that it’s something else…”

“But if you don’t get any money, how is this worth it?” Swift asks as she raises an eyebrow.

The buck laughs before he rattles the vendor tray at her. “Do you see how much of this shit I have?! I’m not going hungry anytime soon. And there’s not much else to worry about beyond that… and this is only a small fraction of how much I have.” He waves a hoof as he chuckles. “The plants are really productive. It’s nothing for me to have to harvest every day just to keep up with it.” He waves the bag towards Gearing. “But if you happen to try it, and like it, and spread the word… that just might be the hoof in the door that I need so I can start raking in the caps and finally start eating something else besides this mutated fruit for a change…”

Swift smirks as she narrows her eyes. “I thought you said it was nutritious and delicious and has everything a body needs?”

The buck narrows his eyes right back at her as he grumps. “It does, but after you’ve been living off of it, and nothing but it, for a few months it starts getting old… and I’ve been sucking it down for a few years.”

“Alright,” Gearing relents with a laugh. “I’ll take it and give it a try.” After the buck eagerly shoves the bag into Gearing’s awaiting grasp, Gearing asks, “How do I find you afterwards?”

The buck grins and waves a hoof around as he says, ‘Oh, I travel around a lot… you’ll find me out and about.”

“Well, I do too, so that’s a problem. Because two moving bodies are less likely to run into each other,” Gearing replies flatly.

The buck seems to visibly deflate before he says softly, “Shit… hadn’t thought of that…”

Gearing stows the bag of fruit in his bag as he asks, “Well, since you don’t want to let me know where your farm is-”

“Damn right,” the buck quickly snaps.

“How about we use the Finders as an intermediary?” Gearing asks before looking up at the buck with a smile.

The buck’s eyes go wide as the thought strikes his fancy. “The Finders?!”

Gearing nods as he says, “Sure, I’ll put in an order with the Finders if that’s the case. And they can put up a bulletin or whatever. Or, if you trust Bottlecap, you could have her folks bring it straight to you.”

The buck rubs his chin as he thinks about it. “It’s about a thousand caps to pay for entry into the Finders. And if the fruit sales start taking off I could get that real quick… hmmm it’s not a bad idea, I’ll think about it.”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “You do that… But, thanks! I hope this is as good as your saying!”

The buck grins at him as he holds up another one. “Well, you could always try one now and find out!”

“I could… but that wouldn’t actually tell either of us what we’d really want to know and it would be particularly bad for you,” Gearing says with a shake of his head before he lets out a long disgruntled sigh.

The buck shakes his head quickly before raising an eyebrow and asking with clear confusion and disbelief in his voice, “I really don’t see how; I’m not trying to scam anypony.” Gearing beckons him over with a pinion then leans over and starts whispering in his ear when he’s close enough. The buck’s eyes zip around as he partially closes them. “Uh huh… yeah… Oh. Oh!” The buck’s eyes suddenly go wide as he starts staring straight ahead. “Oh that sucks, I’m sorr- … What?” His eyes start slowly traveling around, going from pony to pony, from grizzled buck to fanatical combat loving mare and he swallows slowly. “No… no, no, no… you gotta point… Yeah… yup…”

Gearing pulls back and gives him a wide smile before he says, “So I’ll just get back with you later after I get a chance to properly test them and get the rest of the family’s opinion.”

The buck forces a wide smile on his face that looks especially nervous before he dips his head and gives Gearing a tip of his sports cap. “I look forward to it! Thanks for your patronage! Enjoy!” Then he turns and starts walking away as he slowly starts looking around for anyone else that might be willing to give it a shot, but others pointedly avoid eye contact with him and still others just give a sneer of contempt that makes him not even want to try.

Swift and Gearing continue walking on and after getting out of ear shot she asks, “What’d you tell him that made him look like he was about to piss himself?”

“Basically just that if I took a bite out of it, and didn’t seem to enjoy it, it would look really bad on him in front of all of the gangers and Reapers around here that he’s been trying to sell to. That they’d think he was trying to scam them. And I told him I have a complicated palate because of my implants so I’m really not the best judge because everything tastes like dirt.” Gearing looks at her sideways and smirks as he says, “Smart buck figured out the rest of how that might of went on his own…”

Swift snickers as she shakes her head. “So, you basically lied to him just to get him to go away?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks around. “Enough truth to what I told him that the important parts came across clearly.”

“Uh huh,” Swift replies with a roll of her eyes. She looks over at a group of mares passing by them on the opposite side of Gearing and asks, “Hey, which way to the clinic?”

The group of mares stop and look at her as they pause their bantering and conversation. It’s easy to tell that they are all members of the same group. All of them are wearing white collars. And they all have some sort of grease-like paint dying their manes that gives it the appearance of a rainbow. Although Gearing’s less than impressed by the cheap imitation. The empty holsters they have draw only a moment of his focus, while the power shoes two of them are wearing actually cause him to stare.

The one closest to Swift raises an eyebrow as she asks, “What’d you say?”

“Clinic. Where… Not a difficult question,” Swift says with her eyes narrowed.

The next mare in line leans around the first and looks at Swift as she says, “Ya ain’t gotta be all rude about it.”

The first mare asks, “Why? You look fine.”

Swift points backwards where Handy limply lies across her back as she stares at them like they’re idiots. “Well he’s not.”

The closest mare gives a fraction of a second disregarding glance at Handy before saying flatly, “If it were me, I’d just have left him to die…” And the snickers and giggles from the other colorful fillies just make her muzzle twist into a self amused smile.

“Ah’d be fahn wid dat,” Handy comments with a deep toned groan while not even moving. “Put meh outta mah mis-ree…”

The pitiful sounding request causes the mares to laugh that much harder.

Swift looks back at him and scowls as she says, “Fat chance of that happening!”

The closest mare to Swift has her eyes light up as she says with a silky tone, “OOOoohhh So that’s how it is, huh? … Well… I can’t say anything about your tastes… Bucks,” she shakes her head and sticks her tongue out in disgust, “Blech!” She turns and happily points off to the direction where Swift needs to go. “She’s right over there. Look for the mare with all of the medical mark ponyhide, you can’t miss her!” Then she leans sideways, towards Swift, as she says, “And, hey… if you ever change your mind on that… dump the trash somewhere… and come look us up. We’re always happy to have another cute filly to come join us.”

Swift looks over at her and narrows her eyes as she says, “Fat chance of that happening too…”

The mare pulls back a bit but the smile on her muzzle gets just a bit wider before she glances at her friends sideways and giggles, “Oooooh do you see that? She’s got some spunk!”

Swift rolls her eyes and starts walking away as she groans, “I don’t have time for this shit.” She glances over at Gearing and adds, “Come on, Gearing, let's get to the clinic so we can get Handy taken care of.”

The closest filly uses a forehoof and taps on the currently empty holster on her other foreleg where a laser pistol is normally stored and grins. “We could take care of that buck in a flash if you want? Just need to make a quick trip to the front gate and get my laser pistol.”

Swift comes to a dead stop and her muzzle curls into a snarl as she slowly starts turning her head around to look at the brazen mare. “What… did you just say?”

Gearing takes a few quick steps, gets in between them, breaking their line of sight with each other, as he stares right at the callous filly with the apparent laser pistol fetish. “I think it’d be best if you continued on your way before something bad happens here.”

The filly’s eyes flash wide in an instant rage before she asks with a snarl of her own, “Who the fuck do you think you are threatening me, you bastard buck!?” Her friends swing around to get into position to help as all of them start easing towards their weapons. One of which activates her power shoes as they start to spark lightly.

Gearing, not deterred in the least, stares her straight in the eyes and says with a flat even tone, “It’s not wise to threaten Iron Hoof’s family… Those that do tend to get real dead real quick… And that happens to be her husband.”

The mare tilts her head in contempt as she starts looking down her nose at him. “Like I’m scared of a little shit like you with the preppy paint job on his armor.”

“Iron Hoof? Why’s that name sound familiar?” one of the fillies to the right of the group asks as she looks at the others.

A couple in the center have noticeably increased the visible whiteness of their eyes and one of them says softly, “That’s one of the new Reapers.”

Another nods slowly as she says, “That’s the one that beat Goldfish…”

The mare in the lead turns to look at them and nods her muzzle towards Gearing as she says, “That’s not Iron Hoof. Iron Hoof’s a proper mare! Not some bastard buck!”

Gearing points back with a wing while still maintaining hard eye contact with his challenger. “That’s Iron Hoof, moron, not me, and if you even joke about killing her husband one more time she’s likely to shove your head through your own ass, and she really won’t care where we are when she does it.”

“Hey, Gearing,” Swift calls over, causing him to slowly turn his head to look back at her. Her snarl turns malicious as her eyes get a fanatical gleam to them usually seen on the eyes of jacked up raiders. “How’d that challenge shit they used on you work? Reapers just get to say they want something and they gotta cough it up or fight, right?” She starts grinding her forehooves into the ground as she snickers. “And you said you needed some magical weapon cartridges, right?” She starts laughing as she says, “I’ll wholesale kick her ass just for one!”

One of the other fillies balks as she asks, “Are you really going to challenge her over a fucking single piece of ammo?!”

Gearing looks at them and grins as he says, “No… but once she gets you in the ring whatever she does to you is nice and legal and…” He leans towards them and says quieter, “I suggest you leave now… because unless I tell her ‘no’ she’s going to make a point of it, and then you’re going to be in traction for the foreseeable future.” Gearing lays his ears back as he frowns and says quieter, “I’m trying to save your fucking life here, so would you kindly just go?! Please and thank you?!”

“Well, Gearing?” Swift asks as she starts rocking side to side with her forehooves and has the same glee filled grin on her muzzle.

The other fillies quickly start turning and walking away, while one wraps a foreleg around the first one and turns with her as she nervously giggles, “Oh, see, you’re such a kidder! You really need to work on your jokes though. Come on; let’s go get some Sugar Apple Bombs. You’re always grumpy when you haven’t eaten and your jokes are just sooo bad that no one can tell you’re joking!”

They start walking away but come to an absolute stop when Swift yells out.

“I didn’t say you could leave!”

Their eyes slowly grow wider as they both start looking over their shoulder at Swift.

“Well, Gearing?” Swift asks as she glares at the one. “How bad do you want some of that ammo?”

Gearing looks back and forth before he stares them in the eye for a few seconds. He motions them on with a forehoof and replies evenly. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll pick some up later. I don’t need any at the moment.”

His comment earns startled looks from the fillies.

“You sure?” Swift asks as she starts easing up.

Gearing stares them in the eye for a second, then his eyes darts down to watch their hooves as they slowly shift them ever so much to carry them away. Gearing looks up into their eyes then gives them a warm smile before he tilts his head and scratches the back of his mane with a forehoof. “Yeah, I’m sure, Swift. Thanks anyways.”

Swift spits off to the side in annoyed resignation. “Tch… fine… Spoil sport…” Then she turns and continues walking away. “Coming, Gearing?”

Gearing waves at her with a wing without even looking. “I’ll catch up.”

“Fine… don’t get into any trouble… without inviting me first…” Swift replies with a chuckle before trotting off to find the promised medical pony.

After a few moments, with Gearing’s ears twitching and carefully listening to his surroundings, he lets out a sigh then smiles as he says, “Close call, huh?”

The one mare that’d instigated the entire thing lowers her head and groans, “I need a fucking drink.”

The mare next to her clops her on the back of the head as she hisses at her, “What you need to do is work on your damn flirting technique! Your libido almost got your ass kicked. Again!” She pulls away from her and raises her lip in disgust as she says, “You’re almost as bad as some of these bastard bucks walking around here…”

The offending filly hunkers down and holds her head with both forehooves as she flushes and yells, “I suck at flirting, alright! What am I supposed to say to someone so cute? I mean she’d give Shy a run for her money in the sweet flank department!”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “How about more of something like ‘Hi, what’s your name? I think you’re cute, would you like to get a drink together?’ and less ‘Want me to kill your husband for you?’ I mean I’m no expert but that ‘Alpha Mare’ shit just don’t cut it.”

She moves a hoof out of the way and glances at him before she mutters, “Oh what the hell would you know…” and then gets helped up and turned around by one of her group.

Gearing shrugs and starts turning around as he says, “Not much, admittedly. Mares confuse the ever living fuck out of me. Always have…”

The mare directing her friend away asks Gearing, “Hey, buck…” When Gearing looks back at her she asks, “Would she really have killed her over a single cartridge?”

Gearing shakes his head and replies flatly, “No… She would have used the cartridge as an excuse to do it… She’s very protective of her family.”

The other mare flushes even more before she starts walking away and groaning, “God that’s even hotter…”

Her friend looks at her with a narrowed eyed scowl. “You’re fucking clinical, you know that?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and continues on as he mutters, “Mares… I’ll never understand them…” and leaves the colorful fillies to banter and bicker among themselves. A short stroll later and Gearing’s ears shift from rotating slowly to pick up various conversations, to jumping in the same direction as he hears, and then pinpoints, a familiar voice.

A collection of ponies sit around a cooking pot. Most of them are still wearing one stage of the Hoofington Fire department uniform or another, a few are just sitting there in naught but their hide. But of all of the ones that can be seen, all of them have one type of burn or another on their body. Some of them look like they’ve been crisped pretty good. Others simply have scares that make their hide look like melted wax where hair no longer grows.

But, regardless of what anyone may think someone in that position might do, they are cracking jokes, talking merrily, and just seem to be having an overall good time simply enjoying life. Especially with their boisterous conversations.

“You’re pulling my leg!” a buck on the far side of the pot says with a laugh

“No, really!” the familiar voice replies.

“And just how high were you when this went down?!” another buck asks with a smirk

“Stone cold fucking sober. And you would be too if you saw what I did! It was nutsy!” the same familiar voice says quickly.

“Uh huh… So he threw a wagon and killed one of these super mares, and then dropped a statue on another one? Like… just picked it the fuck up, and dropped them? Just like that?” another buck off to the side who’s laying out and propping his chin up with his hoof asks as he grins at the brown buck in the middle of his story.

“Just like that! Splat!” the russet brown buck says as he slams his forehoof onto the ground before he starts taking a drink from a mug.

“Hey, Soots,” Gearing calls over as he’s passing by and only a yard or two behind the buck’s back.

Soots spits his muzzle full of beer out and leans over coughing and hacking as he completely drops the mug onto the ground and spills what’s left of it.

The buck that’d been laying down frowns as he wipes some of the spittle off the side of his face with a flame mangled foreleg and groans, “Party foul, dude…”

Soots looks up at the buck directly across the cooking pot from him and shakes a bit as he says, “That fucking voice… ah Celestia fuck me!” He slowly turns his head and gives a sheepish smile as he sees that, in fact, his ears were entirely correct with placing the voice. “H- hey boss… you’re… you’re looking good… How’s things? I uh… I hadn’t seen you here before… I… I see you uh… made … it… heh.”

The one across from him points behind Soots and asks, “Wait, you’re talking about him?!”

Soots whips his head around and puts his hoof to his lips as he shushes him. “SHHH shshshshshs! Shush! I like living!”

One of the bucks off to the left, still in his full Hoofington Fire Department uniform looks at Gearing for a few long seconds before saying flatly, “Doesn’t look like much… And I’ve never seen him around… You sure he’s a Reaper? Like a real Reaper and not just some wannabe claiming it?”

Soots shrugs as he says, “Well I haven’t exactly gone up to Big Daddy and asked, but if you saw what I saw you wouldn’t even question it.”

Gearing smirks as he rolls his eyes. “Hey, Soots, you get a chance to drop that jacket off at Patches yet?”

Soots’ eyes go wide, then he starts looking around him before he grabs a Hoofington Fire Department jacket that’s laying on the ground next to him and whips it up in the air as he says, “Not yet, here ya go!”

Gearing looks at it and asks, “That’s yours aint it?”

Soots nods quickly before he says, “Yeah, but I made it to my friends. It’s no worry, I’ll get another soon enough.”

Gearing waves it away as he says, “I’m in no rush. I was just wondering. I’ve been busy the last couple days and decided since I saw you I’d ask.” He waves it away again as he says, “Keep it, you’re probably gonna need it.”

“You see Big Daddy yet?” the buck on the left asks as he keeps staring at Gearing.

Gearing looks over at him and shakes his head. “Not in a while, no.”

The buck on the ground grins as he waves a hoof off towards where the box seats are. “Oh, well in that case… Big Daddy’s probably over at his place. You know where that is, right? I’m sure he’d like to see one of his Reapers if it’s been that long.”

Gearing shrugs as he starts looking around. “I’m sure I’ll run into him eventually before I leave.”

Several of the bucks share glances before they almost communally roll their eyes.

The one in the suit on the left comments flatly, “Oh, I’m sure of that.”

Gearing turns and starts walking away as he says, “I need to find out who’s selling what around here…”

While Gearing’s leaving, the buck in the fire department suit walks over, grabs Soots with a foreleg, and starts pushing him off to the side before the pair walk off in a different direction together.

As Gearing is meandering around he can’t help but notice a few of the oversized cages where the local bouts are fought. He slows down as he starts looking them over and can’t help but draw parallels with the ones that were at the Freight Cars’ Junction. And it doesn’t take much of a mental jog for him to realize that the mimicry was done intentionally. He starts wondering if that’s why the bouts there are also condoned as being official. Considering they took so much care and time to duplicate the same kind of things that are available here. Even more so in some cases as he doesn’t see any sign of having barrels set up to dump toxic materials on the occupants.

But, considering that kind of fight was called a ‘Fillydephila match’ it makes sense to him that the match had more to do with another area. Presumably somewhere in Fillydephila.

As he’s admiring the domed cage, a pair of bucks walk up from the side and one comments, “I see you are still carrying the rifle.”

Gearing turns his head and his eyes dart between the two real quick before he settles on the ocher buck. “Oh, hey, Dolor, fancy seeing you here.”

“Surprising seeing you here too,” Dolor says with an emotionless expression across his face. “After not seeing you for a while I’d half expected you to not show up.”

Gearing chuckles as he waves a hoof around. “I’ve been busy. I hope you haven’t been hanging around here waiting on me?”

“The only thing I’m waiting for is an end,” Dolor says with an annoyed sigh.

Gearing rolls his eyes before he waves a hoof at him. “Yeah, well, that’s gonna take a while, for both of us.”

“Some sooner than later,” the buck next to Dolor says flatly.

“Ain't that the unfortunate truth?” Gearing says with a sigh as he takes the rifle off and holds it up. “Sorry about what happened to the rifle. I got the shit kicked out of me and had to jump like three stories to avoid getting caught in a magical explosion. And then a shipping container fell on me. Edge hit the rifle pretty hard on the way down and it bent the barrel.”

The buck to Dolor’s side raises an eyebrow as he asks, “You avoided oblivion?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks the rifle over and says flatly. “I have to. Just giving up, letting it happen, is just as bad as doing it intentionally. Because I have too much work to do before the end and if I don’t give it my all, the whole way, it won’t count.”

Dolor looks at his companion and raises an eyebrow as they lock eyes and seem to share some unspoken communication between each other.

As they are still silently going back and forth Gearing holds up the rifle as he says, “Thanks for the rifle, too. It seemed to work. No more of your friends tried to shoot at us… so there’s that.”

Dolor nods before he waves at the rifle with a forehoof. “That was the plan. No reason for unfortunate accidents to cause bigger problems for others.”

“How long you been here?” the other buck asks as he looks Gearing over. “First time I’ve seen you, ever.”

Gearing shakes his head and slings the rifle back over himself. “I just got here. Took a few detours along the way looking for supplies to take back home. It’s been one long mess.”

The buck slowly nods as he says, “Well, good luck with that. Though, Reapers really should check in more often, make their presence known… make sure others know who they are and what they look like.”

Gearing looks at him and raises an eyebrow before he says, “What? And that pretty much goes against my entire personality.”

“There you are!” a distorted voice yells from Gearing’s side.

Though it takes Gearing a second to actually register it. But the world stops making sense in short order.

He’d just been looking at and talking to Dolor and who he assumes is one of Dolor’s gang mates. He’d just been finishing his sentence when he’d heard something, but then suddenly found himself flying. And fast at that. He’s not sure how, but suddenly he’s sailing through the air. And it’s not some form of temporary amnesia where he blacked out or something. Especially considering his wings are still lazily and comfortably folded at his sides. No. In fact, he’s still standing and in the exact same position and pose that he was when he was talking to Dolor. Except now he’s sailing through the air at a quick speed with the air whipping through his mane and tail rapidly before he even realizes what is going on. But it only takes him a second to know something’s changed and in a completely reflexive action he activates SATS.

Time slows down to a near stop as the world seems to blur around him.

‘What the hells going on?!’ the little blue pegasus in his head asks as he looks around. Despite feeling like he’s nearly out of energy, this has certainly woken him up in full panic mode.

Gearing takes in all of the information he can as quickly as he can, and starts trying to reassert himself into reality. But, yes, this is actually happening. Currently he’s several feet in the air. Almost like he’s rearing up, except his feet are straight out like he’s trying to stand on the ground itself, even though the ground is below him and under his right haunch. His legs are stiff as a board, where they’d just been holding his weight up and it gives him an added level of confusion. From where he’s at he can see several ponies around on the ground under him. Several are already looking at him. Several seem to have an amused look on their face. Others seem entirely confused if not shocked and caught off guard as much as he is to suddenly see a buck sailing through the air like someone just threw a ponnequin.

He deactivates SATS twists slightly, and activates it again as soon as he has a slightly different angle. And things start making more sense to him as he looks around.

Because there’s Big Daddy, reared up and in the follow through for what must be an enthusiastic Hoofball toss. Gearing’s seen that still image pose before: in several magazines and on the covers of newspapers where they are trying to catch the action shots. And, true to form, Big Daddy’s living up to his name as his muscles are currently betraying him and the fact that he might be older than most ponies, but his body is still a biological machine capable of mayhem.

Behind Big Daddy is a group of ponies that have gathered up in a semi circle and apparently were in on the joke even when Gearing wasn’t. And there behind him, and dead center, is Soots with a massive grin on his muzzle and a fresh beer held in his hoof as he sits down and seems to be in the middle of a giggle. He has an exceptionally pleased smile on his muzzle as he stares right at Gearing in the mid air flight. And the buck that had been at the camp with him, wearing the full HFD suit, is standing right next to him and looking up at Gearing. But with the mask on it’s impossible to read their expression. To the other side of Soots is Dolor and his companion. But as they crane their neck to follow him soaring through the air, their expression is flat and emotionless. They obviously have some interest in how this is going to go, but are detached from it. Whatever is going to happen is what’s going to happen and that’s the end of it. Like fate is something inevitable to them and there’s no reason to get worked up over it.

Okay, so Big Daddy just hopped over, and threw me like a championship shot put going for distance contest. What the hell is this about though?

The little blue pegasus in his head shrugs as he says, ‘Well, we’ve been walking around with Swift, letting everyone know that she’s a Reaper, and that they shouldn’t mess with her. Maybe he’s cranky that we didn’t stop by first to confirm her position?’

There’s also been several that have been constantly saying that I’m a Reaper too, Gearing adds. And that probably got under his skin a bit since I took off without saying anything to him.

‘Hey! We never claimed it! Other people keep saying it! Not us!’ The little blue pegasus says as he hops around. ‘We never agreed to that shit, that was all No Shoes’ idea!’

I really doubt that that matters to Big Daddy. They really seem to care about their image with all of this nonsense, Gearing retorts with a groan.

‘Well what the fuck are we going to do then?! Is he trying to kick our ass?!’

Gearing looks at Big Daddy, and sees the grin across his face. It’s not malicious. It’s actually a wide genuinely happy grin. Actually, I don’t think that’s what this is…

‘Well, what then?’

It’s more of that Alpha pony bullshit… he’s probably just trying to show me who’s the boss…

‘Well… again… what are we going to do?’

I have a few options to this, and I’m not sure what’s the best way to go, Gearing says as he starts pondering.

‘Right!’ the little blue pegasus says as he pulls out a couple scrolls and sets up a poster. ‘Option one… throw on the air brakes, spin around, and start clobbering him. Maybe if we show him we’re not scared of him, that’ll earn his respect. Whether we get our ass kicked or not. Although, I haven’t seen him fight… So if he’s in charge of a big group of lunatics like this there’s a strong possibility he’s not just simply some old buck that knows an ungodly amount of martial arts… I bet he’s got some secrets of his own and that’s why he’s lived so long.’

Yeah, like a healing talisman or some other type of implant. Which could be really problematic really quickly, Gearing adds.

‘Option two,’ the little blue pegasus says as he sets up another poster and shows the various diagrams of the actions. ‘He just threw us, so we could play along with it, but show that it was nothing more than a game to us as we land and walk right back to Dolor and carry on the conversation. You know… sort of super badass ‘you’re not even worth my time’ level of thing where you don’t even look at him to acknowledge that he threw you in the first place.’

Gearing mentally groans, No… that’d be inviting a lot of trouble. That’s a hugely disrespectful thing to do. Practically slapping him in the face. In front of everyone at that. And if he’s trying to pull the alpha card and prove his point, he’d have to kick my ass on principle alone…

‘Well then what are we going to do, just let him rag doll us all over the fucking arena?’ the little blue pegasus asks with a huff.

Gearing mentally grins as he says, Actually. I have another idea… Something that’ll let him sooth his ego, while at the same time cementing our capabilities to those around…

‘I don’t follow…’

Easy… make him look good, by going along with it, but making it look like he did far more than he did… and in doing so increase both of our reputations.

‘Are you going to get us seriously hurt again?’ the little blue pegasus asks with a moan as its eyes go wide and doesn’t like the idea at all.

Nope, I’m using the loaded dice, Gearing replies with a mental chuckle before he says, Just watch this! And then he deactivates SATS prematurely.

While he’d used a good amount of the charge, his thought process and jumping from point to point went rather quickly, even for him, so he still has some of the charge left by the time the world returns to normal speed. And as soon as it does, the feeling of air whipping through his mane and tail returns with a vengeance as he continues sailing through the air.

Gearing lets out a startled yell, and flails around a bit as the arc is flattening out and he starts coming back down. He twists and turns, and starts preparing himself for his landing as he sees his target. But, where his actual trajectory would have made him land somewhere in an open patch of grass, Gearing intentionally adjusts his angle with flaps of his wings disguised as panicked flailing. And he travels a bit further than he was going to originally. As he’s heading for the flat side of a metal box delivery wagon, Gearing gives one last flap to increase speed and activates SATS. And again the world slows down around him.

Gearing mentally grins as he thinks, And now for an extra bit of flavor…

>> Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

As soon as the magic starts losing hold, and he’s sure that it’ll be in effect when he needs it, Gearing drops out of SATS again.

Gearing’s metric ton of brass slams into the wagon at the same ridiculous speed he was thrown at, but further enhanced with an extra last second wing powered boost. He folds his wings tightly to himself and crosses her forelegs in front of his head as he continues to yell in mock surprise and hits head first. The impact causes the wagon to flip over violently as Gearing passes right through the one side of the wagon, crashes into the merchandise that was stored inside, and impacts into the far side of the wagon as his landing is mostly cushioned. But, once inside, he quickly flung out his legs, splaying himself out to increase the surface area of impact as much as he could to try and avoid simply going straight through the wagon like a bullet. And, his plan works. Except instead of simply knocking the wagon over, the wagon rolls a full 270 degrees from the impact, contents and all, and comes to rest with the entry hole sitting on the ground.

The end result is a splayed out pegasus shaped embossing set into the sheet metal on the opposite side of the entry hole and coming to rest pointing straight up towards the artificial sky for all to see.

Everyone’s eyes go wide and a few snicker in a ‘damn that had to hurt’ tone as others physically wince at what had just been unleashed on Gearing. Everyone seems some level of startled, confused, impressed, or outright shocked.

Including Big Daddy himself as he tilts his head down with his jaw slightly loose. He lowers his sunglasses with a hoof and peeks over them at where he’d thrown Gearing as he takes in the damage he’d apparently unleashed.

Soots’s eyes go wide before he holds onto his belly with a forehoof and looks at his friend next to him in the Hoofington Fire Department uniform. “Holy shit did you just see that!? Big Daddy just threw him through a fucking wagon!”

---

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