Ghost Hunter Twilight 2: Clone Lores
by Keywii_Cookies55
First published
A month after moving into Partyville, Twilight has to go on another grand adventure to... save things? Who knows?
It's been several weeks since Twilight and Spike went to the outer district of Partyville. They met Pinkie, who turned out to be loud and annoying. Rainbow Dash, who was just a waste of space. Applejack, a Polish ghost Bound to the farms. And Fluttershy Pastel Gardens who... well it doesn't matter, Spike's out for blood with that one.
It got mixed up in all sorts of adventures. Like living above Oakfield's bookstore, and getting Locked-Out, and remember when Trixie showed up? Oh man, that was fun. But the world moves on, and they move on with it.
No time to get settled in though, there's a new problem on the rise. Who's running things? Where are Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo? And for the love of all things peace and quiet, where did all these clones come from?!!
Stick around, you may just find out.
Special thanks to Hyppy on discord for the cover art. It's amazing! You can contact her at [email protected] if you wish for art of your own.
1 Back From the Dead
“Thank you for your help,” came the calm statement of a mare trotting out the front door of the local bookstore.
Oakfield’s - as the locals had so fondly come to know it – was a two storey bookstore situated on the at the tee junction where Makeover road met Flat street. It was a quaint affair that had recently come under new management. Before the deed to the property was taken it belonged to a local, but no more than a month ago an unpleasant purple unicorn and her shifty dragon sidekick asserted themselves.
The unicorn’s name was Twilight Sparkle, and on her first day in town she assaulted a defenceless young filly and got our only farmer fired! The dragon, Spike, scared the poor previous owner into selling the property and running away. Twilight was known for her impressive scowl, which was matched only by her cutting wit; using both to her advantage, she somehow managed to accumulate a small collection of friends.
Pinkie Pie: a crackpot baker from downtown Partyville. Applejack: The once sole-farmer for the entire district. Even Rainbow Dash: the unemployed horror sci-fi novel fanatic. Twilight somehow convinced all of them to like her, and against all odds, they still did; they spent most of their time off at her stolen store, even Saturday mornings!
Twilight scoffed at the latest customer that came into her store, if they didn’t like her, why did they insist on shopping there? The latest one was just another brain-dead woman going about her day, visiting the bookstore and buying something because the cover was colourful.
As much as Twilight hated her oppressive warehouse home, there was precedent there to keep her wits sharp. She knew her place, and low as it was, it gave her a sense of scale; Twilight knew her limits and consequences intimately. There’d been no room for error in Panhandlershot.
But in Partyville? The only problems she ever came across were her levels of patience, everyone smiled and said thank you and wasted her time. The only actual threats kept themselves hidden. How was she supposed to know what was wrong if there wasn’t constant overwhelming threat of bodily harm around every corner? If Twilight had to pick some asinine bright side, the only thing she could come up with was the local ghost society constantly keeping her on edge.
Knights, High Royals, Guardians; they hid themselves, but they still walked the streets of Partyville. As a Hunter, Twilight knew she was always on thin ice, which relaxed her at least. But even that didn’t give her comfort when the local ponies had nothing happening behind the eyes. Applebloom had her suspicions for why most of the adult ponies could barely hold a conversation, but Twilight knew the truth.
Not that she’d ever explain it to the kid, any edge she had she held firmly to her chest. Pinkie Pie explained the liberal mind wiping the same night Twilight asked her out. Twilight looked over at her marefriend talking about something with Applejack, the Hunter wasn’t listening. They’d been dating for about two week by that point, and in that time they’d at least gotten to spend time together. Twilight enjoyed her time in the relationship until it dawned on her two days in.
Pinkie was too nice.
Twilight shook her head, instead turning to Applejack. The two earth ponies moved in with each other shortly after the ex-farmer was freed by the Whisperer. Twilight suspected she should probably be jealous. With Applejack no longer enslaved by the Ghost Council, she was free to actually do what she wanted, and Pinkie had put her up at the Bakery. Pinkie was surprised when Applejack asked to move in, but accepted a few days later. Which was what made Twilight’s lack of jealousy surprising; shouldn’t she have cared? If you’re dating somebody and you go out together, shouldn’t you feel more than indifferent to them spending more of their day with somebody else?
She looked at Pinkie and the best she could muster was turning her deep glare into a more neutral expression. She couldn’t bring herself to care in the end; honestly what bothered her more was her new roommate.
As if summoned, hooves sounded from the stairwell on the left side of the store. It was the very same set of stairs that lead to Twilight’s upper loft. It had everything she needed to live comfortably, a bed, a desk to do research, a kitchen, the ship in a bottle she decided to start building…
“Twilight, we have a problem.”
…and Binding freeloading assholes that forced her into being a counterspy of some kind. “What?” Twilight demanded, the less she saw Applebloom the better, and considering her day had that far been at least bearable, she wanted nothing to do with the little stain.
Applebloom made her way over to the older ponies by the check out. “I was talking with Nona while you were running your store, and there’s been some movement with a few key players.”
Narrowing her eyes, Twilight couldn’t help herself from asking, “Who is it?” That is, she wasn’t able to stop herself from asking, no matter how hard she wanted to.
Pinkie turned to Twilight, “Nona?” She whispered.
“The Whisperer.”
Applebloom nodded, “First of all, there’s been some activity with a group of ponies from outside the city. They’re basically harmless, but worth looking into, they might be sliders.”
Twilight nodded, she didn’t particularly care about sliders, for the most part they almost always left her dimension before much even happened. They always talked about amazing powers or being able to fix everything wrong with St. Orangeberg, then when they spent any extended period of time in they city they left crying. They wanted to fix everything, but what was broken? Nothing, that’s what; the only thing wrong with anything was the people that lived there. And it was pretty laughable to think anyone could fix the city without some sort of mass genocide of some kind.
“Secondly, there’s been an increasing issue with the clones. It still isn’t enough to care about, but it might as well be dealt with now, get it over with, you know?” General agreement came from Applejack and Pinkie. “Finally, and most importantly, is what the Executioner has been up to.”
The reaction to hearing the title was immediate. Twilight shivered and in a rare moment for her looked worried; there was nothing more dangerous to a Hunter than an Executioner. Pinkie’s eyes widened and she took a step back, her regular nightmares about the local Executioner left her sweating when she woke up. Applejack though, reacted violently.
“WHAT THE FUCK HAS SHE DONE?!” she growled in her accented voice - the anger always bringing the Polish out of her - and stomped her hoof into the floor. Applebloom hadn’t been expecting that sort of reaction and backed into one of the shelves. Not even Scootaloo’s violent hatred of Pinkie Pie could have prepared the red-maned Earth pony for such an outburst. Twilight, without realizing it, had jumped in front of Applebloom, her body moving on her own.
As a moment of calm washed over the room, Twilight inwardly cursed herself and her stupid Bound curse. She had no choice in being Applebloom’s bodyguard and protecting her. It was not only inconvenient, it was a giant bitch.
“Well?!” Applejack yelled, a touch more calm, but still fuming.
Applebloom knew she was safe when Twilight walked back behind the counter. “Well, the Executioner has been far more active recently, he’s been moving ghosts and building power; Overall he’s been far more threatening. Nona believes that if we don’t do something soon, it’s possible that the Executioner will come after us directly. And nobody wants that.”
Pinkie nodded in understanding, and Twilight simply tried to calm her beating heart. There was no way in fuck she’d survive an encounter with an Executioner. He’d trap her in her own body, rip off her limbs off and keep her alive and suppressed just to torture her until she lost her mind. There was nothing more bone-chilling than an Executioner…
Another slam sounded out in the bookstore; Applejack looked frustrated and impatient, “If we’re taking care of her then I’m going, none of you are ghosts, you don’t know what she does like I do. Her eyes have been haunting me since the day I died, and I want to make her pay.” Applebloom didn’t have time to react before Applejack stormed out of Oakfield’s.
“I’ll…” Pinkie spoke, watching her roommate leave, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Ghosts can’t die, but you never know with an Executioner.” With a nod shared between them, Pinkie exited as well, leaving Twilight and Applebloom behind to parse what just happened
After silence filled the space left by Applejack’s explosive outburst, Twilight exhaled, relief washing over her. “Job or not, I’ll gladly let anyone else take care of that.”
Applebloom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to deal with any of what’s gonna go on there.” The open sign hanging on the door settled back into its place before the red headed kid took her own breath and turned to Twilight. “Right, well it sounds like that’s being taken care of, what about you?”
“What about me?” Twilight asked indignantly, narrowing her eyes as if remembering she was supposed to hate Applebloom.
“Which of the two jobs are you going to do?”
Twilight stared for a moment, trying hard to forget that she basically had no choice in the matter. “As far as clones are concerned, I have a small assortment of notes on dealing with them back at my warehouse. But I’d rather not have to deal with the lunatics that live there today. So considering my two options, I’ll tackle the slider situation.”
A smirk crossed Applebloom’s smug expression. “Afraid, Twilight? I didn’t think you’d get spooked by a couple ponies asking for your lunch money.”
-SMACK-
A loud sound rang out in the bookstore as Twilight slammed her forehead hard against her checkout counter. “I JUST WANT TO KILL HER!” She cried out, Applebloom knew it was directed at her, but that was half the fun. If she wasn’t sure she could get away with it, Applebloom wouldn’t have said anything.
“When you’re down sulking,” Applebloom spoke, “You can handle something simple, while I go to your warehouse and grab your clone notes.”
There was a full two minutes of nothing before Twilight let out a muffled response, “What do I have to do?”
“There’s a scientist next district over that’s apparently an expert on clones, and should be able to help you, find her and ask her to help deal with the problem.”
“UUUUUUUGGGHH…” Twilight dragged herself back upright before looking at Applebloom’s stupid smug face, “You mean Ashton?”
“No, other direction, Sideo Breach.”
“Okay, good, as fun as being forced to work for you should be, I don’t feel like getting hustled today.”
Twilight officially hated Applebloom, the little shit thought she knew everything, and constantly flaunted her invisible superiority of being the Whisperer’s latest host around. If it were a level playing field, Twilight would have absolutely killed the kid by now. Just slit her throat out back, quick and easy, plus the ponies in Partyville probably wouldn’t notice... the living ones anyway.
Not everybody in the district had impaired brain function though, just the ponies that had yet to die. The ghosts were actually fairly smart, acting stupid to fit in. There wasn’t a sure fire way to tell them apart yet, but Twilight was still working on that. Thankfully the ghosts that hated Hunters and justified Twilight’s job to begin with weren’t really the ones that lived in Partyville. No, they apparently resided elsewhere, at some sort of ghost council military compound somewhere downtown. Instead, Partyville was designated high society for the ‘noble’ ghosts to get their freak on or some stupid bullshit.
At least that’s what her extended research into the topic netted her. Applebloom brought her back to the present though, “Are you even listening?”
“Of course I’m listening,” Twilight sneered, “You want me to go find some expert scientist in Sideo Breach while you go to my warehouse and find my own notes on clones I wrote down almost a decade ago.” Applebloom nodded at the recap, “My question though is why you don’t go find the expert while I go to my warehouse: I know the area better, I know where my notes are organized, and I’ll probably be faster.”
Applebloom smirked, withholding information, she winked before her eyes rolled back in contemplation. A moment passed by before her eyes returned to normal. “I thought it’d be funnier not to tell you, but basically the reason boils down to it making a better story.”
Twilight rolled her eyes, “Right, the different Twilights ‘sister’ thing,” she stepped out from behind the counter and looked around the store, Making a note to fix the hole in the floor another time. “You ever find it surreal to think we’re just characters in some book written by a sadist asshole?”
“Eh, maybe,” Applebloom answered, tilting her hoof back and forth, “I try not to think about it. If I’m a character or not, it doesn’t really change who I am, or what I want to do with my life.”
Twilight teleported the two of them up to their small apartment loft, Applebloom grabbed her side bags and trotted over to the fridge while Twilight herself went over to her desk and unfurled her maps for inspection. “Yeah, see, I get that - obviously - but what about free will? If I’m a string of text on a screen I basically have no control over anything I do.”
“But would you even if you weren’t? Who said free will was inherent anyway?” Applebloom stuffed several cans of Banana Smash into her bag and zipped it up.
Applebloom nodded at Twilight, the unicorn finished studying the map before rolling it back up and placed into back where it belonged, “I’m not convinced.”
“And why’s that?”
Twilight teleported them back downstairs, ready to leave. “Because if I’m under control by some shitlord god, how am I anything more than a puppet? I need to know that I-“
The door swung open suddenly and loudly, interrupting Twilight’s thought, standing in the doorway was none other than the rainbow-maned pegasus Rainbow Dash, she looked frantic and a little confused. Twilight and Applebloom gave a synchronized eye roll at seeing Dash, but she looked at the purple unicorn.
“Twilight, you have to help me,” She asked, walking up to them both, “There’s a pony out here that looks like me and she won’t leave me alone!”
Author's Notes:
Skillet
So we're back! Damn am I excited. I've been working hard, slaving over a hot grill preparing the new story. And it may not be perfect, but you guys were never here for perfection, you were here to watch an ornery unicorn go about her day and maybe not rip her hair out of her head.
Heh, expect updates weekly on Fridays
2 A Man with a Plan
The streets of Partyville were busy, still a bit early into the day, somewhere between breakfast and lunch. Dozens of ponies -alive and dead- all waved at each other as they passed in the street. Simple greetings were exchanged by almost all of them as they aimlessly wandered.
Two Earth ponies kept to themselves as they walked down the left-hand sidewalk. The first was a pink mare with a truly unkempt mane of curls and frayed ends; She had a hybrid expression that adorned her features. The first was a general displeasure for the ponies around her, one look at her eyes could tell she was bitter from years of being judged. The second was a tinge of worry for her friend.
Walking slightly ahead of Pinkie Pie was an orange mare with a deathly serious look in her eyes. She marched forward with purpose, staring directly forward without a hint of hesitation in her lime green spheres. She was a touch shorter than most, but built stocky and strong. She passed by the herds of people on the sidewalk in front of her that decided to ignore the aura of single-mindedness around her and say hi anyway.
Pinkie idly wondered if Applejack even had a plan for dealing with the Executioner. It was clear there was some kind of history there, possibly something that all ghosts experienced in Partyville, hard to say though. What she knew, though, was that Applejack stormed out of Twilight’s bookstore without a second thought. Did she even have a goal?
How does one ask that of somebody so angry though? Somehow ‘I know you’re ready to rip a phone book in half, but mind telling me what you’re doing?’ didn’t sound like the smartest question. So what to do then? Pinkie hadn’t known Applejack for more than a month, not in a way that counted anyway; the five years of farming proper where Pinkie knew she existed but never spoke to her didn’t count. So how could she go about stepping on Applejacks hooves?
Luckily though, Pinkie didn’t have to consider for long; As the two mares passed by the post office, Pinkie spotted a certain purple dragon engaging in a transaction with a pastel blue earth pony. The pony in question has handing the dragon the entire contents of her bag. Pinkie rolled her eyes at the scam.
How did somebody who couldn’t speak scam anyone, let alone to the point of taking most of their belongings from them. It was one of the many skills Spike the dragon obtained as a resident of the infamously crime-riddled Panhandlershot. Pinkie may have hated Partyville, it was filled with judgemental asshole ghosts, but it was relatively safe to live in.
She waved over at Spike as Applejack kept marching forward. Spike noticed them and gave a slight smirk, engulfing his ill-gotten gains in purple flames, making them vanish. Pinkie understood the action as storing it all in his horde – not that she knew where it was, but apparently it was pretty big.
Pinkie nudged Applejack, pointed at Spike. “Fine,” the orange mare relented, “As long as we get back to killing that bitch soon.” She stopped and watched Spike walk over to the two of them, leaving some rather confused ponies behind him.
“Hey Spike, you busy?” Pinkie asked.
Spike lifted up his shoulders, shrugging.
“We’re headed to my bakery to get supplies and work out a plan,” Pinkie explained, her eyes narrowing slightly at Applejack.
Spike raised an eyebrow, inviting her to elaborate.
“The Whisperer told us a few minutes ago that the Executioner is probably going to kill us all soon.”
“And we aren’t gonna let her!” Applejack fumed.
His pupils looking up and losing focus, Spike took a moment to consider the proposition. He bobbed his head back and forth a few times, as if tasting the idea. Applejack grew more and more impatient as time went on, but he wouldn’t be rushed. She tapped her hoof on the ground, and he ran a claw down his spines.
“Well?!” Applejack yelled after two minutes.
Spike smirked and pulled out his switchblade, Pinkie couldn’t tell where he pulled it from, but she assumed his horde. He turned to the side, giving a powerful swipe. He followed up by tossing his knife into the air and maneuvering his body around, giving a high kick and a sideways chop before catching the knife in his off hand and stabbing at the empty air in front of him.
Pinkie smiled at the display, and he finally gave his reply in the form of a thumbs up, putting his blade away.
“Finally.”
Applejack lead them down the street, passing condos, stores, bars, a small gym, and what looked like a playwright theatre. Pinkie noted the Greenly micropark that sat directly across the street from her own bakery. She liked the place, and enjoyed sitting under a tree in the early hours of the morning when no one was awake. At that moment she simply narrowed her eyes at the crowds of ponies filling up the park.
Walking up to the bakery’s front door, Applejack stepped inside, not giving a second thought to Pinkie or Spike. Pinkie rolled her eyes and motioned for Spike to go before her, he nodded and walked in. Once Pinkie stepped in, she flicked the ‘back in five minutes’ sign with her hoof. It may have been her day off, but never once had that stopped any of the locals from deciding to walk into her locked door. It wasn’t until she started putting up signs that change happened.
It was especially interesting when she put it up as a pony was walking in, only for them to stop trying to enter. They just… stayed in the doorway, almost as if the sign itself had some kind of weird seal on it. A few tests in years past proved that rules signs or different stipulations tended to affect the locals of Partyville. Pinkie recalled going to a public place, stealthily hanging a ‘no talking’ sign, and the instant she let go all conversation stopped.
It was interesting to say the least, and definitely more effective than actually locking her door. Pinkie idly wondered if her sign magic worked on Twilight, and determined to try it out after they sorted out the Executioner business.
…and to also write up a reference guide to sign magic to send to the editor of the modern spell makers source book.
Pinkie noticed Applejack already headed into the back of the store, and Spike had apparently followed her, so she walked past the counter -rang her bell- and stepped into the kitchen. It was thankfully clean, which was Applejack’s doing.
Being freed from the half a decade of farm work had left Applejack with nothing to preoccupy her time with. When you go from nothing but work to suddenly no work at all, it leaves you wanting something to take up your time. Cleaning the bakery seemed to do that, which Pinkie was decidedly grateful for. Making the food was hard enough, but cleaning up after herself was a pain in the ass and always had been.
Pinkie took a final moment to appreciate just how much better things looked spotless before she nodded and turned to the staircase leading upstairs. It turned to the left about six steps up and lead to the hallway. A few simple pictures adorned the wall, but nothing she really cared about, just her stupid family living it up across the city. She’d been meaning to take those down for months.
Reaching the top of the staircase, Pinkie spotted Spike down the hall to the right, outside of Applejack’s door. Originally the room was storage for her pitifully small collection of books, an assortment that could easily fit in her closet. But it made a great second bedroom. Walking up to Spike, Pinkie motioned to the door. “She say what she’s going to do?”
Spike just turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“Right, I guess that was a pretty dumb question.” Pinkie took a few steps further down the hall, to the other bedroom door. “Well my station is in my room, c’mon.”
Taking the invitation, Spike followed Pinkie into her room. He reacted to the selection of furniture about the same way she expected him to, which is to say mild-but-fleeting interest. He glanced passed her old lived in couch and shelf of books to the more interesting collection of sensoring equipment. His eyebrows raised at seeing her set-up and she couldn’t help feeling a little giddy at the attention; the desk was what she spent most of her money on.
It had several monitors she’d… acquired over the years, hooked up to a Crystalex 1200 series computer. It didn’t have enough power or parts to run any advanced programs, so no games, but it was set to scry on several persons of interest. Pinkie pointed out a particular video feed to Spike as she sat down in her beat up office chair.
“So that right there is the Executioner.” Pinkie explained as she balanced herself, attempting to keep the chair together so it could support her weight. “I know it isn’t safe to watch the Executioner, or the Peixie battalion, or anything I watch really, but I want to know if it’s dangerous to go outside before I decide to leave my building.”
She noticed Spike watching the swamp monster on Feed 4, “I know it’s dangerous where you’re from, over there ponies are loud, have guns, and care very little about being subtle.” Spike nodded in agreement, “But out here in Partyville, being an outer district, there’s less problems and so subsequently less eyes on us. Bigger threats take the opportunity to remain out of sight by setting up shop here.”
Spike nodded again and started using sign language for Pinkie. ‘Where is the Executioner now?’
Pinkie motioned back to Feed 7, “It doesn’t show us what she looks like, but this is live, it’s showing us where she is right now.”
“She’s walking past the laundromat?”
Pinkie and Spike both turned to see Applejack having walked into the room. She was wearing a stun baton holster and looked more or less ready to inflict heavy damage on the next pony she came across. Pinkie nodded at Applejack’s question before she turned back to the screen and looked at the surrounding area.
The area where the Executioner was supposed to be was always slightly blurred out on the video, but the other ponies around her were reacting as if she were there. Pinkie reflected that she’d never actually seen the Executioner, but shook her head, shaking off her lack of focus. The surrounding area was a busy street, indeed in front of the nearest laundromat. Pinkie recognized it as the one five or so blocks away.
Then the unexpected happened, and a glowing ornate white door appeared on the wall between the laundromat and the bar beside it. It didn’t appear to be something the ponies on the feed noticed, but just to be sure, Pinkie turned to Applejack. “Do you see that?”
“See what?” the orange mare asked, Spike also shook his head.
Pinkie sighed, knowing exactly what it meant that only she could see it. She brought a hoof to her face and rubbed her temple briefly before dragging it down her face. “Don’t worry about it, just my immunity causing problems again. There’s a door on that wall that presumably the Executioner just walked into.”
‘Wouldn’t the camera follow the thing in?’ Spike signed. At Applejack’s confused expression, Pinkie relayed the question.
“No,” Applejack answered, “the bitch has a space only she can go into.”
“What, like a Folded Plane?” Pinkie asked, turning around in her chair, almost falling over, catching herself, and balancing again.
“I don’t know what that is, it’s a hidden room that only she can access.”
Pinkie nodded, that sounded like a Folded Plane to her. The only real question was what to do about it. There were only three of them: a baker with supernatural immunity, a freed ghost with a vendetta, and a mute dragon; they weren’t exactly Squad Force Mega. “We need a plan for dealing with the Executioner. We need Twilight, she’s a Hunter, she’ll know what to do.”
Spike nodded in confirmation, and was about to sign something before Applejack cut in, “And what’s she going to do? Last I checked the pain in the ass whore has known exactly what Twilight’s been up to since the first day she showed up in Partyville.”
Pinkie narrowed her eyes, “Believe it or not, Twilight has more experience than any of us in this sort of thing. She’s smart, determined, and better equipped to take out anything we come across, so show a little more faith.”
Applejack grumbled but said nothing more. “Fine, good, then let’s get prepared and go ask Twilight what to do.”
Author's Notes:
Korpiklaani
3 Beat Your Competition
Twilight narrowed her eyes; up until moments ago her day had been going so well. Spike had opened the shop; so she got to sleep in. The coffee machine didn’t crap out. And out of the several dozen ponies that bumbled their way through the front door, almost none of them had browsed.
No, by all accounts the day was actually bearably enjoyable. Then shit stain junior came in faulting that Twilight wasn’t allowed to slit her throat, and forced her to work. Then she had to close the shop probably for the next few days. And now there was whatever the hell horror-story-harlot wanted to do with her.
Out of all the ponies Twilight had to deal with regularly, she probably respected Rainbow Dash the least. Who else was just as stupid as the rest of the slop in Partyville and only had a mind of her own because she decided to pick up literacy at some point? Plus Twilight couldn’t even enjoy taking advantage of Rainbows willingness to do what she said because the pegasus was too busy bugging her about the latest story by her hack of a favourite author.
Twilight stared at the blue pony in front of her, the one expectantly awaiting a response. A part of her wanted to never say anything, just stare at Rainbow silently for entirely too long, and see how long it’d take her to crack. But unfortunately Twilight was voluntold to find some clone expert the next district over.
“Another you?” Twilight deadpanned, “You mean a clone?”
Rainbow Dash looked confused for a moment before it seemed to click in her head. “Oh! Yeah! A clone! Why didn’t I think of that? It’s like in Dark Alley’s book: the Other-“
“Yeah, yeah,” Applebloom interrupted, “Just like the book, go outside and Twilight will take care of it.” Rainbow Dash nodded and ran out of the book store, violently ringing the bell above the door. Applebloom waited a few seconds before looking over at Twilight, “You think she’s getting dumber?”
Twilight saw the smirk on Applebloom’s face, she could almost hear the ‘heh’ that awaited her response. Twilight merely narrowed her eyes though. “The only two things she’s getting are in my way and on my nerves.”
Applebloom burst out laughing as Twilight walked to the front door of the shop. “She’s not the only one on my shit list, Applebloom,” Twilight thought as she summoned her keys. “She’s further down than your name.” Hearing the jingling noise of the keys Twilight was impatiently waving in the air, Applebloom quit laughing long enough to take a hint and leave Oakfield’s.
The wind was gently blowing and birds could be heard overhead. Twilight followed the earth pony out the front door and made sure to lock both locks she had installed. She still wondered if a third would have been better, but Spike was probably right when he told her that conventional security wasn’t something to get too worked up over. The locals in Partyville were either too dumb to consider breaking a rule, too caught up in their act of being stupid, or too powerful to even consider stopping with a simple lock.
The locks gave her piece of mind though, if nothing else: bars on the windows, deadbolts on the doors, a gun behind the cash register, and on top of the bars, most windows were boarded up. All of it made her feel like she had a place to relax and drop her defences a bit; Important as they were to keep up, it did get exhausting some days.
Triple checking that the door was in fact locked, Twilight turned around to greet the day. The first thing she saw was two Rainbow Dashes, which told her that her scowl was most assuredly deserved. “Of all the asinine…”
The Rainbow Dash to the left was how Twilight remembered her: dumb look on her face, probably obsessed with some new book, annoying, barely able to hold a conversation that didn’t revolve around paperbacks. She was annoyingly taller than Twilight, self-conscious, trying to be smart if nothing else, and potentially somebody worth her time.
The pony to the right however was undoubtedly a clone. From a distance it looked like Rainbow Dash, a blue pegasus with a prism of hair colours, it even sort of stood the same way as the original to the left. That’s where the similarities ended though. Being a clone, it was roughly seventy or so percent smaller than the original. It also lacked the spark of Sight that all cognizant creatures had.
Applebloom stepped back and watched Twilight study the clone, while Rainbow Dash herself nodded, “See, Twilight? She looks just like me. She’s a clone like you said.”
“Shut up.” Twilight berated the pegasus before turning back to the clone. It didn’t seem to focus on anything besides Dash herself. “Can you tell me your name?” Twilight asked, sounding close to a soothing tone, her best attempt at one anyway.
In response the clone looked at Twilight, or at least in her direction, there was no real way to tell if the thing even knew it was being addressed. It didn’t speak, and instead the noise that came out of its mouth was a whinny. It then immediately lowered its head and started eating the grass on the ground. Twilight heard Applebloom laugh again.
Rainbow Dash took a few steps away from it, “And it keeps making that weird noise.”
“It’s the sound our ancestors made. And the fact that you don’t know that earns my pity.” Twilight thought as she watched the clone sidle up beside Rainbow Dash, closing the space made. “Right, well I can definitely confirm it’s a clone.”
“Leave it to the blue one to bring our problem to us.” Applebloom snickered as she stood up, having sat down at some point in the last minute. “Well you’re the guinea pig here Twilight, how are you going to deal with it?”
Twilight internally growled as she dragged her hoof down her face. She was supposed to be the expert. Want it or not, she had years of experience and knowledge. The fact that this stupid girl had the stupid Whisperer giving her a stupid advantage was stupid! If the Whisperer’s last host didn’t die, Applebloom would be just another kid going about her life.
If Twilight ever found a Nomad, she’d use her wish to make time travel possible just to beat the shit out of the jackass that went and killed the last Whisperer’s body. But she shook her head, escapism was the dumbest thing somebody could do, especially in the midst of a clone epidemic. “For starters,” Twilight spoke through gritted teeth, “I’ll track it back to where it came from and destroy the chain upward unti-“
Suddenly, Applebloom shot forward and chopped the clone on the back of the neck, knocking it out.
“Whoa!” Rainbow Dash shouted, jumping back.
Twilight took in Applebloom’s sudden movement with a cocktail of grogginess and anger she didn’t expect. Why didn’t she do anything? The clone was about to Split of all things, why didn’t she do anything about it? Worse, why did she let Applebloom take care of it?
With the clone knocked out, pausing it’s mitosis, Applebloom stared directly at Twilight, livid. “How stupid are you?! You almost let it Split, what kind of Hunter let’s a clone SPLIT?!”
Twilight looked at what could almost have been a disaster and then narrowed her eyes at Applebloom. Her reaction time may have been slow, but she would have doine something about it, “Maybe if I didn’t have a child breathing down my fucking neck, I could have done something about it sooner.”
“Done what? Glared it to death? You’re the worst Hunter in St. Orangeberg!”
Twilight stared daggers directly into Applebloom’s eyes, “And how the fuck would you know? How many Hunters even come out to this shithole? Partyville is filled with the dumbest people I’ve ever met, how does anyone with half a brain even stand living here?”
Applebloom stomped a hoof into the sidewalk, “Is Panhandlershot ANY better? You come from a place where stabbing is currency, you’re no better than anyone else around you.” She threw up her hooves in fake alarm, “Oh no, don’t take my knife Twilight, How will I pay to eat out of the garbage can today?”
A purple hoof stopped immediately in front of Applebloom’s face. Twilight wanted to flatten her into paste, to rip her in half and feed her to several rabid dogs, or whatever else, just to shut her the hell up. But no, fuck Twilight right, she just had to accept more abuse until the end of time, what even the fuck?
“Um… Twilight?”
At the sound of the uncertain voice, Twilight looked at Rainbow Dash, absolutely not willing to deal with any more shit. “What?” She asked as curtly as possible, almost sounding like a direct order more than a question.
“Me, I… um, the clone of me is waking up.”
Twilight looked at the clone and realized it had half open eyes, and was struggling to catch it’s bearings and stand. She didn’t want a repeat of seconds earlier, so she wanted to deal with it quickly, before it could continue Splitting.
She placed her hooves firmly on the ground, being in a bit of a hurry concentration would have to be forced. The air around the clone started to pick up a slight magenta hue as Twilight’s horn glowed to match. Rainbow Dash stepped back as the clone was lifted from the ground, being engulfed in a swirling sphere of light pinks and purples.
The sphere remained transparent enough that one could see the clone inside being compressed. The sphere compressed faster and faster until it was tightly wrapped around the clone. Quickly losing form and cohesion, the clone looked frightened as any trapped animal would. The air continued to condense until the clone was nothing more than a small sphere of its own, no longer holding form and being a sky blue ball held tightly in one spot.
Twilight was having a hard time holding the spell together, it required high levels of concentration to execute properly. And she was still pretty pissed off at Applebloom. As soon as the clone ball compressed to the size of a marble, Twilight found it almost impossible to finish the final step and purge the damn thing. And all shecould see in her head was the smirk on that stupid little bitch’s face.
A spark came off Twilight’s horn, popping loudly and suddenly, which startled her, and all at once the clone expanded outwards, exploding in all directions. Twilight was too spent of magic to pull up a shield, but she could easily dodge out of the way of the blue clone mass. She rolled to a stop off to the side, thankfully avoiding any of the mass. She looked over at Applebloom who was far enough away to avoid getting any on her, but Rainbow Dash wasn’t so lucky.
Fortunately it was hard to tell, because it was the exact same colour as her coat, but Twilight could make out quite a lot of clone mass on Dash. Getting up from where she’d dodged Twilight looked around at the surrounding mess.
Blue clone gunk was everywhere, and it smelled faintly like dead ladybug. The nearby ponies weren’t ghosts acting like idiots were smiling and stared at the scene. Twilight mused that if they were more intelligent, they’d likely be curious what had happened, akin to a child. But instead they just mindlessly stared at the splatter for a few seconds before moving on.
Twilight’s musing was interrupted by Applebloom laughing again. Turning to see what was so funny, Twilight saw Rainbow Dash looking at the clone mass covering her, she still looked dazed.
“That was awesome!” Rainbow declared, smiling, “Can you blow up more clones, Twilight?”
Instead of answering, Twilight studied Applebloom with a self-satisfied smirk. The little earth pony was disappointed that Rainbow Dash didn’t hate being slimed.
But almost as quickly as the disappointment came, it disappeared, and in its place was a calculated looking expression, one of scheming. Her pupils darted several directions in quick succession before she took on a jovial aura.
“You know, Rainbow Dash,” Applebloom commented as she walked over to the pegasus, specifically avoiding stepping in any of the blue puddle, “If you want to blow up clones, there’s none better than the Alpha Clone.”
Rainbow Dash turned to her with a curious and somewhat hopeful expression, “Really?”
“Yeah, if you blow that one up, it’ll be huge! Getting goo everywhere.”
Curiosity was replaced for a moment with hesitation, “Okay, why do you know that though?”
Twilight raised an eyebrow as she studied Applebloom, lying was interesting when you were watching it in action. Especially when questions came into the picture. Twilight may not have liked Rainbow Dash, but she had to give credit to asking an actual question.
“I’ve been talking to Twilight about it, we discussed it earlier.”
Rainbow Dash responded with a simple nod, “Okay, that makes sense.”
“Good, so what Twilight needs you to do is go find it in the forest outside of town so she can blow it up for you.”
With a salute and a flap of her wings, Rainbow Dash was gone, only dripping a small amount of clone mass. Twilight and Applebloom watched for a short while before Twilight turned to the only other pony still with her.
“She may be a waste of oxygen,” The unicorn spoke, cutting the silence, “But it was still pretty rude to send her off to die.”
Applebloom dismissed the comment. “She won’t die, the forest isn’t that dangerous.”
Twilight briefly considered how casual the outer district locals were with being outside the city. They seemed pretty nonchalant with leaving the only civilization for entire weeks of travel in every direction. But she wasn’t able to get far before Applebloom shrugged and motioned left down the road.
“C’mon, we have work to do.”
Twilight rolled her eyes but nodded, They walked away from Oakfield’s.
Author's Notes:
Dritex Music
4 Who I Am Hates Who I've Been
The sun drifted lazily across the sky over St Orangeberg, caring little for its inhabitants, or for any place that absorbed it’s greatness. There were no clouds blocking out it’s luminosity, but it wouldn’t have cared if the weather decided to stay cloudy for years at a time. The simple fact remained; the sun paid no attention to the world it was providing life to. Or even the one that had ponies on it.
On the world inhabited by ponies, there was a series of several megacities, spread far apart from each other. In one such city there was a mind-boggling number of districts all roughly the size of small towns. And in a single one of those districts dozens of streets were all lined with various businesses, homes, town services, alleyways, and small parks.
Walking along one of these street sidewalks was a small group of three, two earth ponies and a small bipedal dragon. Things were pretty quiet for a time, but one of the earth ponies decided to break the silence and strike up conversation. It seemed she disliked the lack of speech.
“So how’d you meet the Executioner?” Pinkie asked curiously. The neutral expression on Applejack’s face plummeted into the most foul of sour looks, “I have a few ideas, but don’t want to assume.”
Applejack stopped in place and slammed her hoof into the sidewalk, causing an unpleasantly loud sound to resonate, “KURWA! Niech to diabli I hate her so much! That… fucking… FLEJTUCH stole my life from me! When we find her I’m going to rip her in half!”
Pinkie could tell just how upset The Executioner made Applejack, even if she didn’t dip back into Polish, her accent always came through when she was emotional.
“We can’t find her soon enough,” Applejack started moving again. Pinkie looked at Spike, who - to his credit - had the decency to shrug and not to include himself in their conversation.
“I know, but why do you hate her so much?”
Applejack almost blew a gasket, but after exhaling harshly, she focused on her breathing and began calming down. She took her time to calm her nerves, not at all caring about how she looked to the other ghosts in Partyville. They all knew she was unbound by the one and only Whisperer, and was now under its protection. Not that any of them actually knew who the Whisperer even was, it seemed Applebloom wasn’t all talk in the way she kept her secrets.
The ghosts knew Twilight was the new Hunter in town, but that was different, the Executioner told them that the night she showed up. Calming down to the point of holding rational thought, Applejack turned to look at Pinkie. “She was the first face I saw when I died.”
Pinkie gasped, Applejack solemnly nodded and took a deep breath, “I remember it like it was yesterday. The pony that killed me stabbed me twice before I actually died, which means I felt the first two.” She brought an orange hoof to her chest to scratch at her non-existent wounds. “He was crazed and couldn’t have been reasoned with even if I had the time to think of anything.
“The shock kept me from feeling most of the pain; I remember thinking somebody punched me in the gut. Well, after I died I woke up almost immediately in a dark room. I didn’t know what was going on and was still in shock. I honestly didn’t know I’d died at first. I don’t remember much, just that I saw a pony and heard their voice telling me that I was a farmer now.
“I tried correcting her. I tried saying I was a noodle delivery girl, but what came out wasn’t English. It was like my ability to speak my language was stolen from me. After I quieted down a lot of information was put in my head about what I was: what my place in the world was, the fact that I died, and all the rules I was meant to follow and live by.
“She then explained that I was worth nothing, that she owned me. I wanted to object, but my mouth wouldn’t actually open, she was controlling me…”
Pinkie wanted nothing more than to stop and just hug Applejack forever, to take all that pain away, but she kept completely silent for Applejack’s sake. She also assumed that Twilight might get jealous.
Not that their relationship had really been… well a relationship. They hung out, chatted, ate lunch together, even tried cuddling. It was just disappointing, in her letters Twilight felt like a person that really got Pinkie, understood her. But Twilight turned out to be a walking mental breakdown.
So often she’d just berate everyone and everything around her, and not even in a public sort of persona way like Pinkie first assumed, but full on internalized contempt for most things around herself. Pinkie got to enjoy the softer side of Twilight a couple times, if she had to find a silver lining, it was a side that enjoyed quiet spaces and genuine affection. But those moments were so few and far between it almost wasn’t worth it. Pinkie was content being friends at least, even if she got the impression that Twilight didn’t want that either.
Pinkie shook her head of the thoughts, now was hardly the time to be thinking about Twilight, not with Applejack finally sharing what’s been on her mind. She looked at the ghost with sympathy as they walked. “What was your life like?”
Applejack’s left ear twitched slightly; most of her anger had disappeared, leaving sombre sadness, but Pinkie’s question seemed to pique her attention a little bit. “It was in a district on the other side of St. Orangeberg: Denray. I lived there a few hundred years from now, and a big part of life there was Gallowball. I worked as a delivery girl at a Griffon wok near the Denray stadium.”
Pinkie noticed Spike raise his eyebrow, but she expected he might. “Almost every ghost is displaced in time,” she explained, “most come from the past, but sometimes they’re from the future.”
Spike shrugged, ‘Sounds pretty stupid if you ask me,’ he signed.
“We still haven’t figured out why ourselves,” Pinkie sighed, defeated by one of the biggest mysteries to ever crop up in apparology.
Spike brought a claw to his forehead before signing in as annoyed a tone as sign language could allow. ‘If she’s from the future, why are we still poor? She could just make something we’ve never seen and sell it for shit tonnes of money.’
Pinkie relayed the question for Applejack but she shook her head, “I got my freedom back last month and the last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself. Do you even know how powerful the council is?”
The only thing that met Applejack’s question was a shrug from the dragon.
“Well let’s just say I’m going to wait a few years before I decide to do anything stupid.”
“What was your life like?” Pinkie asked, “In Denray.”
Applejack looked wistfully forward for a moment before sighing, “It wasn’t the best I could ask for. My mom was a neurosurgeon and wanted me to follow in her hoof steps, but it wasn’t for me. I dropped out of university to live with a friend of mine, got a job near the stadium and spent several years just living, I guess you could say.”
Pinkie nodded in understanding, “I know what it’s like to disappoint my parents.”
“Well my dad didn’t care too much, he was an autotherapist and spent more time with his clients than with family. Still, I guess someone has to help SI figure out their purpose, I never really held it against him.”
‘SI? Autotherapist? The hell do those things even mean?’ Spike signed, Pinkie ignored him.
“I’m not much for sports,” Pinkie admitted, “What’s Gallowball like?”
Applejack’s left ear perked up slightly, “A lot of fun,” She spoke sounding excited for the first time that morning. “There’s six teams of three and they need to navigate a multilevel maze while avoiding getting tagged by each other. My team was Cyan Cyanide.”
Pinkie considered the idea, it sounded like a competitive obstacle course mixed with spray tag. She could almost see that as a big spectator sport, but where did a ball fit in? “Cyan Cyanide?”
“Every team needs a colour, or they’ll…” Applejack trailed off as they saw Oakfield’s door closed and the lights off, but drew their attention was the big splatter of blue goo everywhere. Pinkie quickly looked both directions before crossing the street to inspect the mess.
It was everywhere, on the front of the store, the street, some even made it far enough to get into the parking lot next door. She suspected what it might be, but had no actual proof. “Let’s see, unstable consistency, solid colour, and the blast radius looks almost five metres wide.”
It couldn’t be the swamp monster, the colour was wrong. It couldn’t be a genie because the goop wasn’t hot to the touch. Pinkie looked at Spike, considering it may be the work of a dragon, but she dismissed it almost immediately, he wasn’t even blue. Harpies were out. It could be Ouroboros puke, but there was no reason one would ever be this far south.
Then Pinkie chuckled as it occurred to her how dumb she’d just been. It’s clone mass, Applebloom was talking about dealing with the clone issue earlier. She pulled some up with her hoof and gave it a taste, no memories though, apparently the mass was still too fresh.
While Pinkie was inspecting the splatter, Applejack and Spike crossed the street to join her. Applejack herself tested the door. “Locked, they already left.”
‘Nice deduction there, Goldberg,’ Pinkie glared at Spike, but he just smirked in return. ‘Well if they’re gone anyway, we should handle this without them.’
“I agree,” Pinkie smiled, liking the idea. Applejack raised an eyebrow, “Spike thinks we should take matters into our own hooves.” Pinkie explained.
Applejack gave a final knock on the front door before she turned around and started walking away, “Great idea, let’s get going.”
Pinkie got behind her to keep up, and Spike leisurely followed suit. “To the Laundromat then.”
Author's Notes:
Relient K
A little look into Applejack's past. Or would that be future? From a subjective standpoint it's already happened, but from the perspective of immortals, she has yet to do those things. I wonder if she'll meet herself, being a ghost and all.
5 Out of My Face
Twilight watched Applebloom leave Partyville with a deep scowl on her face; the little bitch could die for all Twilight cared, it’d be several less headaches to deal with. Maybe the bow-wearing stain would die long before she even got to the Warehouse, before Panhandlershot even. No Applebloom, no Whisperer, none of the recent bullshit anymore. Twilight would grab Spike and Pinkie and the three of them would go deeper into the city to…
Well not live in Panhandlershot, the less time spent there the better, really, for almost every party involved. Maybe they could live in Frontline… no, too many people. Groundhill was loud, Night Juncture was filled with prostitutes, Canarily was just plain disgusting, Longtrench was overrun by bandits a few years ago...
Twilight considered if there were really any good districts. It was almost like all of them had a singular glaring problem that made life there horrible in some way, at least as far as she was concerned. She was sure somebody didn’t mind mounds of garbage, or rednecks, or blocks upon blocks of mindless morons. It wasn’t Twilight though.
Realizing she was about to start spiraling into her issues again, Twilight shook herself out of her thoughts. Looking back up she saw Applebloom was past the district line heading downtown. The disgruntled unicorn looked around Applebloom, seeing the empty series of ruins once known by the name Pyrmidia.
It was one of the five things bordering Partyville. The first was the forest and farmlands to the west; the outside of the city. Nothing chilled people more than the thought of going outside of St. Orangeberg, not without some serious protection magic.
Northwest was Ashton, a poor backwards place that really had no idea what it was doing as a whole, but had some crafty con artists.
To the north and almost barely making any contact with Partyville was a cramped series of tiny alleyways, rooftops, walkways, and apartment buildings. No one really had a name for the place, mainly due to it constantly changing its official name.
Southeast of that was what might have once been a nice place - Twilight had no idea - but it’d been an abandoned set of ruins and decaying infrastructure for years. What few people that still lived there weren’t doing well. They were basically squatters that ignored the rumours of the bog monster.
Finally there was what laid to the southeast of Partyville, a university town by the name of Sideo Breach. It was likely the nicest place out of the bunch, at least as far as Twilight was concerned, but then she actually knew the least about it. The ponies there liked to keep as disconnected from Partyville as possible, so the information kiosk Applebloom’s unicorn friend liked to hang out at had next to nothing on the place. The only information Twilight could gather was that it was named after a failed expansion into the outer forest in the past.
And - Twilight amended as she saw the welcome sign - for being completely full of themselves. ‘Welcome to Sideo Breach, don’t touch anything’ it read; below was a digital readout displaying their population: 3207.
Squinting her eyes at the likelihood of moronic bullshit she assumed she’d come across, Twilight passed the sign and entered the district. The first thing that struck her was how well kept everything was. The streets looked newly paved, the hedges were green and cut at perfect angles, and the trees lining the street were tall and healthy-looking.
Her first impression was that it looked like Partyville but richer. It left a bittersweet distaste in her mouth. Sweet for the stuck up nature of ponies with money, and bitter for the beauty of the way they kept themselves. She stood on a residential street and there wasn’t litter, no stupid kids out and about, and no blank stares from braindead ponies walking around or the ghosts trying to act that way.
“And once again I’m surprised to find anywhere in St. Orangeberg that actually looks like it’d be nice to live in.” Twilight considered as she walked further down the street. An expensive looking cart drove leisurely past with a pompous looking pony behind the wheel. “And it’s got an annoying issue, so it’s not too good to be true.”
---
Twilight reached an intersection and saw three coffee shops, each on their own corner; the fourth corner contained a new age salad bar of some kind. She looked inside from across the street and saw several stuck up hipsters eating what looked like foreign vegetables: The kind you couldn’t grow in St. Orangeberg. Not that Twilight was anywhere close to an expert on veg, food was food – she regularly ate weeds growing in her reading spot.
Noticing that some of the ponies walking by were giving Twilight looks, she forced her eyes directly forward and ignored everyone else around her. She was looking for an expert in clone-related studies and nothing else, she wasn’t window shopping, she wasn’t admiring the scenery, she didn’t belong and she wouldn’t be there long.
“I’m unimportant, don’t look at me, don’t talk to me, leave me alone.”
---
It wasn’t until the third street after the salad place that Twilight finally raised her head again, unfocusing in the hopes of taking in what was around her. She immediately regretted that decision when she realized she was in front of some kind of large stadium or another. Hundreds of ponies were dressed up in overly colourful and ridiculous looking outfits.
Ponies didn’t wear clothes, it was stupid, they already had colourful fur on them. Twilight liked her coat, not only did it keep her warm in the winter, it was also a good shade of purple, a nice background colour that told most ponies to ignore her or fuck off. The only clothing she’d ever worn was a hat. Once. And even that was only because Trixie was torturing her that day.
But no, almost every pony around her was wearing stupid-looking, over-the-top garbage. A black and white dress with frills, some kind of faux action get up, a demented looking wizard robe. And just far too many pairs of catfolk ears, the hell were any of them even doing?
“…which didn’t even get resolved until later that episode.” Twilight overheard as two stallions older than her by several years conversing about something.
“By best girl.” A blue unicorn off-handedly mentioned in response.
The white pegasus with him snorted, Twilight noted that they were walking the same direction as her, so she wasn’t allowed to escape their conversation. “Please, Lost Moon is such a wet noodle, I prefer my tsuns with a little kick, you know?”
“You would, I bet you like Sun Sweeper.”
“Obviously!” the pegasus shouted, “she’d kick my ass and step on me.”
The fuck were these idiots talking about? Were these seriously some of the people that lived here? The ghosts in Partyville never talked about… the fuck was a ‘soon’? Twilight needed to get away from these fucking wierdos before she caught whatever they had. She turned left and crossed the street that instant, glad no carts were coming through.
“Hey,” one of them shouted at her, “where are you going? I was just about to get your number.”
Oh holy fuck they thought they were worth her time. Twilight did everything she could to not break into a sprint and draw attention to herself. Thankfully the viral infections wearing dresses didn’t follow her, but she still needed a plan. Apparently the biggest problem with Sideo Breach wasn’t the rich assholes, it was the freaks wearing costumes and talking about... were they fictional characters?
A shiver ran down her spine; not even the violent psychopaths back home made her that uncomfortable. Whatever they were, they weren’t clone experts, and Twilight continued walking down the sidewalk at as brisk a pace as she felt she could get away with. She didn’t think she’d get attacked - they didn’t hold themselves like predators or gang members - but you could never be too careful; Twilight kept a dismissal spell on standby.
---
“You’re look like you’re lost,” Twilight heard a voice to her left. She was trying her best to avoid as much as she could, especially in what appeared to be Sideo Breach's laboratory neighbourhood. Who knew what scientists were capable of? They probably wanted to dissect her in a cold emotionless room to figure out what it takes to become a Hunter.
Twilight shuddered at the memory of meeting the only Hunter with a medical degree.
“Thank you, but I’m perfectly fine, please ignore me,” She dismissed to the stallion. He was a tall red guy with a smirk. The look in his eyes immediately raised multiple red flags for Twilight. “Who actually wants to genuinely help people?” He clearly wanted to sleep with her, kill her, or both.
When he raised his eyebrow, Twilight eyed a nearby recycling bin; it was plastic, but she was certain she could bludgeon this guy to death with it. “How can I ignore such an impressive scowl?”
Fuck. He was one of those guys.
“If you share your name,” He offered, “I’ll help you find what you’re looking for.” Twilight was seriously debating scoffing and walking away, but the people in Sideo were intelligent, if nothing else, and that meant she couldn’t make the same mistakes she made in Partyville.
Twilight made sure her voice was steady and gave no indication of any emotion. “Ignition, I’m looking for an expert on clones.”
The guy deflated at the request. Good, he shouldn’t have been talking to her to begin with. “Well Ignition, if you’re looking for local crackpot, you can find her down Causation Street. Lab 62.”
Instead of thanking the creep, Twilight turned and walked away. The less time she spent in Sideo Breach the better, it wasn’t even that stressful, it just made her exceedingly uncomfortable.
“It’s a few blocks south of here. You should avoid her though, she’s obsessed with peixies!”
Author's Notes:
Rebel Son
6 Bad Reputation
“Which is why they wipe everyone’s minds all the time,” Pinkie explained as she, Spike and Applejack walked down the relatively sparse sidewalk.
The sun was hanging directly overhead and there was a nice, comfortable breeze blowing past. It was still some time before the lunch rush, so most ponies with jobs were out of sight. That left the sidewalks free of prying ears, and loud ponies free to talk about whatever they wanted to.
Not that they were discussing anything particularly secret, the Ghost Society knew that Pinkie was immune. It was why they created the rumour mills: about her being insane, about her being evil, and about how her outcast nature would spread the more time you spent with her
“That’s what I was missing out on?” Applejack demanded, keeping her volume down in an attempt to quell her growing anger, “I was the sole source of local food for years! And you’re saying the elite erased memories so they could indulge themselves?!”
Pinkie chuckled, “Oh yeah. I don’t pay close attention, but they probably do something at least once a week. I don’t know how stressful being powerful and influential must be – probably not at all – but they pretty heavily cut loose.”
“All the more reason to snap that stupid bitch’s neck.”
“I’m not sure the Executioner specifically goes to those parties.” Pinkie explained, attempting to alleviate Applejack of the fumes billowing out of her ears. When the blonde mare seemed to quiet down, Pinkie sighed in relief. “But the Council, some of the things they do are worse than those college parties I’ve heard about.”
Spike silently chuckled, ‘From what I hear they summon creatures of destruction.’
“Yeah, they do, monsters of mayhem too,” Pinkie let herself smile in amusement, “I didn’t know Twilight let you read the Theorist’s Guide.”
‘She complained about it when we first came to Partyville.’
“I guess that sounds like her,” Spike could detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. Everyone knew that the two of them started off with wildly different ideas about each other. Twilight’s was mostly right: Pinkie was informative, friendly and spent most of her free time researching and studying to have an edge against the dead side.
Pinkie on the other hand was completely wrong about Twilight, “Most people are when they meet her.” Spike reflected. Pinkie assumed Twilight was direct and talkative, and that was partially right, but the Hunter was also rude, judgemental, distrustful of everything around her, and possibly the most tightly bound knot of self-hate Pinkie had ever met.
Twilight was off-putting, more than most ponies Pinkie had ever met, and she didn’t seem to have any redeeming qualities unless you knew her long enough. Pinkie was giving friendship and even a relationship a try, but it just… she really didn’t know. It almost felt like Twilight was just doing it because she wanted to be less lonely, and not because she actually liked Pinkie. It was a confusing situation to be in, but she and Spike had been getting along well enough.
Interestingly, even though Twilight was sort of their de facto leader… for whatever reason, Pinkie held them all together better.
“If you’re going to do that, can you at least tell me what you’re saying?”
Applejack’s sudden question knocked Pinkie out of her thought process, she shook her head and regained her focus. “Right, sorry. We’re talking about the book I left in Twilight’s warehouse last month.”
“Why?”
“Well in the book it talks about why the ghosts of St. Orangeburg even party at all, it’s to relax them. In the past they used to haunt living ponies, they can’t anymore which stresses them out. It’s why they erase memories too, so they can go all out and not have to face the consequences.”
Applejack narrowed her eyes, “WIsh I knew how to haunt people...” she mumbled.
‘Are the memory wipes why everyone is so mind-numbingly fucking stupid?’
Pinkie rolled her eyes, “Yes, the memory wipes are responsible for why the living ponies in Partyville are not all there.” She repeated most of what Spike asked for Applejack’s sake.
“That’s something I don’t get,” Applejack considered, “if the Council is erasing minds, making the living so stupid, why aren’t you affected?”
Pinkie looked down the several blocks of sidewalk still ahead of them, she sighed as she turned back to Applejack. “That’s my natural immunity to mind magic. The technical term for it is Nullism, but I just call it existential-crisis fodder.”
“No, no,” Applejack shook her head, “I know you’re immune, but there’s other ponies in Partyville that are still smart: Some of the shop owners, the one at the tourism kiosk, Rainbow Dash, the mayor, Twilight. Though maybe Twilight doesn’t count since she hasn’t been here long enough.”
“Oh,” Pinkie smiled, “Actually, I was talking with the Whisperer about that and I learned a lot. Apparently that’s because they’re important characters!” At the blank and quite frankly incredulous expressions meeting her, Pinkie continued, “It’s the same reason I’m immune and Twilight can read minds. We’re all part of this story being written, and the pony writing us likes giving everyone unique abilities. It’s why Spike is mute, why Sweetie Belle is a spectre and Pastel Garden is in a contr-“
Without warning, Spike moved faster than the two ponies could notice. In a single swift motion he pulled his switchblade out of his hoard and held the sharpened steel to Pinkie’s neck. His face read desperate anger, and he radiated an aura of pure death. Applejack took a step toward him, confused but sensing he’d become a threat, but he met her approach by pulling a second knife and pointing it at her.
“Wh-whoa!” Pinkie stammered, her brain catching up to her eyes, “W-w-what are you doing, Spike?!”
He stared into her soul, scrutinizing her. He hadn’t slit her throat yet, but he was from Panhandlershot, he could kill her in an instant, She hadn’t even known anything was wrong until she saw Applejack react. What was going on? Why was she suddenly in danger?
Spike stared into Pinkie’s eyes for... she didn’t know how long; she didn’t move for fear of her life, and Applejack held back as well. What did he want? Eventually he turned to look at Applejack, who stared angrily at him, but refrained from acting. Then, slowly, he lowered the knife from Pinkie’s neck, and walked backwards until he could see them both at once.
He had eyes of barely restrained fury. He focused his gaze on Applejack and started signing with his left hand. ‘Where the fuck is Pastel Garden?’
Pinkie was shaking, still very afraid; she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She remained silent for long enough that Applejack turned her head but kept her eyes locked on the dragon. “What did ten skurwiel say?” She spat, her accent thick.
“H-he just wants to know wher-where Pas… w-where a pony is.” Pinkie gulped, forcing herself to relax at least a little bit. “Spike, she… I don’t know where she is RIGHTNOWBUTI’MNOTDONETALKING!” The outburst got an eyeflicker from Spike as he almost looked away from Applejack. “Sh-she-Past-she likes to spend Saturdays on the rooftops downtown!”
As she explained, Pinkie snapped her eyes shut, hoping to block out the situation. After all, you’re always more relaxed when you don’t see it coming. At the sound of footsteps running off she slowly opened her eyes to see him gone. She took a deep breath before she rubbed the sting from her eyes.
“He’s gone.” Applejack spoke in what sounded like an attempt at a comforting voice. But it covered disgust, so it come across awkwardly. “Do you want me to go after him?”
“N-no, let’s… let’s just avoid him for now.” Pinkie stammered, still shaking, But Spike had left, and she was safe for a little while. “We’ll probably deal with worse when we get to the Executioner... so this was good practice?”
“Right…”
Applejack narrowed her eyes in the direction Spike left, another asshole to deal with. She looked at Pinkie, and felt relieved that the baker wasn’t hurt. Applejack didn’t think much of her, but Pinkie was a good pony, or tried to be anyway, and that was worth keeping alive.
And if Pinkie died, there was really no telling when she’d be displaced to.
---
The sun shone down on the two Earth ponies as they passed in front of the laundromat. Applejack took a moment to look inside and saw several catfolk waiting around as dozens of machines were going. It made sense to her though after, the cats actually wore clothes, before she saw it in Pinkie’s video feed earlier she wondered why there was even a laundromat to begin with.
There was a unicorn in there, but she looked pretty… prissy, if Applejack had to think of a word for it. Like the mare stepped foot anywhere that wasn’t upper class or higher. Normally Applejack would have ignored it, but ponies didn’t wear clothes, it was unnatural, so the unicorn inside seemed out of place.
But Applejack quickly remembered why she was there and walked over to Pinkie, the pink baker stood in front of the structural pillar between the laundromat and the bar. Applejack noted that it was the same brick as the rest of the building, and that there was nothing special about it. Certainly no door that led to the whores domain or whatever it was that Pinkie called it earlier - A plane of some kind.
“Is it still there?” Applejack asked, unsure.
Pinkie nodded silently as she looked the brick pillar over, she raised her hoof and traced it along what Applejack assumed was the door frame. After a moment of this orange mare looked around, seeing the dozens of ghosts walking the sidewalk, they weren’t directly watching, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out they observing them.
After what felt like several minutes, Pinkie finally spoke, “Of all things, why hide the door?”
A sour look devoured Applejacks more neutral expression, “If I know anything about this bitch, it’s that she likes her secrets.”
Pinkie brought a hoof to her chin, “I mean sure, but something as powerful as the Executioner? I never thought she’d worry enough to hide herself.”
“I don’t know and I don’t care, it’s time we teach her a lesson.” Applejack tapped at the wall and noticed her hoof go through the brick, she then flashed Pinkie a devilish smirk, “Let’s go kill a manipulative piece of shit.”
Despite her earlier trauma, Pinkie rolled her eyes and smiled, “If it means one less thing to worry about, I’m right there with you.”
Applejack nodded and watched Pinkie enter the brick pillar, disappearing like she never existed in the first place. She was glad to cheer Pinkie up, they were good friends, and it was good to keep things that way. Applejack looked around, spotting more than a few of the high society ghosts staring in shock. She refrained from laughing before pushing into the unknown.
The ghost bumped her left leg on the doorframe before adjusting and looking around.
It… it was an empty white void.
Author's Notes:
Joan Jett & The Blackhearts
Sorry it's a day late, was SWAMPED yesterday. Honestly I'm likely going to move chapter day to Saturdays anyway. it's easier on me.
...This may also be subject to change.