Men And Monsters: The Silent Killer
by Perfectly Insane
First published
It was easy for Pinkie just to be a party planner, her days were better then: Make pastries, plan parties, enjoy life. Then, as soon as she turned eighteen, her life turned into a cascade of chaos. She is a chimera, and she is a monster.
Pinkie's life used to consist of school, parties, and saving the world every now and again. Now? Corpses, secrets, and killers. She was basically forced to become the leader of the biggest crime organization in the world after killing her father, there was some vigilante running around killing criminals apparently looking for her, and she was also some amalgamation of human and animal. She had to abandon her old friends so their lives wouldn't be in danger, she can't even be alone in her own body, an entity known as The Whispers accompanies her at all times making her life an even worse hell than she already lives in.
The best part? Things only seem to be getting harder every day.
HUGE thanks to https://www.fimfiction.net/user/278463/Buttonous for helping me out and being the editor for this story.
This is the third edition in the series, I would highly recommend reading the previous two first.
Chapter One: Awakening.
Author's Notes:
Hello! This is the third addition in my Men and Monsters series, if you're reading this, you're either new, or coming from the last one. I want to thank you for giving this a chance, and I hope you continue to read it, as this is my most passionate project. I've put a lot of time and effort into this, and will put a lot more. Please tell me if you see any issues, and enjoy!
“The flowers are blooming.”
“The birds are chirping.”
“Kids like you…”
Alice stood above Pinkamena’s unconscious body, right above her head. She was leaning over looking down at her, her copper hair having gotten a bit longer and was now covering a bit of her face. Her arms were out to her sides as she leaned down, almost like she was bowing.
“Probably shouldn’t be sleeping in the middle of the woods.”
Pinkamena tried to open her eyes at the sound of Alice’s voice, expecting the sunlight to burn her eyes, but it didn’t. She was greeted by Alice’s face, even though from Pinkamena’s perspective she was upside down, there was no mistaking that unnaturally wide grin. Though this time there was something different about it, strangely, there was no malicious undertone in her smile. Her eyes didn’t seem entirely empty now, there was a spark of life in them that seemed familiar to her. Alice’s smile also seemed boisterous, like she had just won a bet.
She dare say, Alice looked genuinely happy, which wasn’t an adjective she’d ever thought to use when talking about Alice.
“How...long have I been asleep?” Pinkamena groaned as she slowly rose, her movements were sluggish and she almost had to force them.
She didn’t even remember falling asleep, considering the state she was in last night, odds were she just passed out. The last thing that came to mind was The Whispers mind raping her and having a very strong urge to see her reflection, then she looked into the ocean and saw...something that she knew deeply disturbed her, something that she should probably be glad she didn’t remember. Then she reacted in some mixture of crying and laughing, her face covered in her own bile as hot tears ran down her face, and some point during that she lost consciousness.
She brought her hand up to her head and scowled, a strong headache building up as she tried to recall the events of the night prior. There were evident gaps in her memory, she could feel it. Her mind was like a block of cheese, it all held together, but there were little holes that weren’t significant enough to make a big difference. She could remember everything earlier that day up until after her fight with TSK, afterwards her memory was hazy.
She knew The Whispers were guiding her somewhere, and then she...talked to someone? Found something? Got a text? Something happened along the way, but she couldn’t remember what. Then she got here and the melding process began, an agonizing experience she’d never forget, burned into her mind along with a few other traumatic events she’s been through. While she could remember the process itself, she couldn’t exactly remember what was going through her mind during it. She remembered trying to speak and multiple faces she didn’t recognize come to mind, names and events she’s never experienced felt familiar to her.
She winced as she began rubbing her temple, the more she tried to remember the worst her headache got. She’d always had a really good memory, so when she felt she couldn’t remember something, it annoyed her to no end.
“Long enough to where you might as well not bother going to school today, that was the first time in the past two days you actually got any sleep after all.” Alice said as she put her hands on Pinkamena’s head, grabbing a handful of her hair in each hand and beginning to play with it.
Pinkamena sighed and stopped trying to think about it, if The Whispers were the reason she couldn’t remember some things, there was no point. She pulled her hand away as the throbbing began to stop, noticing some dried blood on the tips of her fingers. She then became acutely aware of how sticky and gross her face felt, remembering that there was blood on her forehead from slamming it against the ground to try to deal with pain, a concoction of the contents of her stomach and blood on her mouth, and her eyes and cheeks sticky with dried tears.
The blood on her fingers was too dried to tell, so she wasn’t sure if her blood was actually black, or if that was just a hallucination. There were a lot of things going through her head at the time, not all she remembers. Judging from the way she smelled, she could really use a bath too.
Pinkamena leaned over to the ocean water, ignoring Alice, causing her to pout angrily as her hair was pulled away. Pinkamena closed her eyes and reached into the water, cupping it in her hands and using it to wash her face. Sure, ocean water near Manhattan was almost surely polluted. However, Igneous used it to clean himself for years, so it couldn’t have been that bad.
She was quickly done washing her face, but she was still going to take a proper shower the next time she got the chance. Even so, she hesitated in opening her eyes. She couldn’t remember what it was she saw in her reflection last night that bothered her so much, or if it was even strictly something with The Whispers. It could’ve been something that changed about her physically, she did recall them saying that there might be physical abnormalities.
She took a deep breath and exhaled as she lowered her hands, opening her eyes to look at whatever the ocean was about to show her.
“What the fuck?” Pinkamena mumbled to herself as she brought both her hands to her face again, touching her face to see if it felt any different.
The first thing she noticed was her hair, it’s shape wasn’t different at all; it was still straight, long, and silky, hanging off her head like a curtain. The color of it changed, or, at least half of it. Half of her hair stayed the same shade of pink, the other half was now dark black. The same shade of dark black that the strains on her head were before, but now they’ve seem to spread. Where one part of her hair stayed pink, the next part was black, like highlights. It looked incredibly natural, the color going all the way down to her scalp. It was also striped, kind of like a zebra, in a way. It didn’t look bad exactly, just...different.
https://knowyourmeme.com/photos/466576-my-little-pony-friendship-is-magic (This was the closest visualization I could find to how her hair looks now, I didn't feel my description did it well enough, so I thought I'd put this to help.)
There was only one other difference she noticed, but it was about as noticeable as her hair. Her right eye was no longer blue, it had turned the same shade of crimson it usually did when she transformed. The pupil didn’t change into slits either, looking the same as her normal eye. Like the hair, the change looked completely natural. She’d heard of people being born with two different colored eyes, but it was different to actually see it.
It was...kind of pretty, she had to admit.
She activated enough of her Chimera abilities to where her eyes started to change, her left eye changing to the same shade of crimson and the pupils morphing into slits. She turned them off just as quickly, but while both their pupils turned back to normal, only the left one’s color actually faded back to blue.
*Welp, looks like the eye and the hair are here to stay. I suppose there could have been worse things to happen to me during that, I think.*
Pinkamena lowered her hands, finding nothing else with her face that was different. She turned to look at Alice, who had been glancing over her shoulder curiously, like she wanted to see Pinkamena’s reflection too.
She hadn’t noticed it before, but Alice was wearing a new outfit. It was a very large and very long blue dress, which covered almost all of her body except past her neck. It was also wide enough to be bigger than her, she wondered how Alice was moving around in it considering how small she was. The dress stopped at her arms around the elbows, there she wore gloves the same shade of blue that covered the rest of her arms. She was also wearing a black band around her throat, over all, she looked very fancy. She had expected her to be wearing her hair up in a bun or something, but she was still just letting it down, though she noticed it was a bit longer than before.
“What’s with the get up? You look like you’re going to a ball.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed, having that same smug smirk she was used to seeing on Alice.
“Well duh! Of course I am, Cinderella was going to a ball, dummy.”
*Oh yeah, kind of forgot about her whole obsession with fairy tales.*
“What, do you want me to call you Cinderella now?”
Alice looked at her thoughtfully with a finger on her chin, before just shrugging nonchalantly with her hands behind her back. “Nah, it’d get annoying if you had to call me something different every time I decided to switch things up. So let’s just stick with Alice!”
She beamed at Pinkamena, her eyes widened like a child whose father had just gotten them a puppy, this was the first time she’d actually seen her look and act like the little girl she appeared to be. Like a little girl, she suddenly jumped forward onto Pinkamena, latching her arms around her shoulders and nuzzling her head into Pinkamena’s neck.
“You’re so warm and soft Pinks, like a giant pillow fresh out of the dryer. Next time you see Starlight, you should give her a biiiiigggg hug, to thank her for putting up with you being grumpy.”
To anyone else, this would have seemed cute and just the actions of an innocent young girl. To Pinkamena, who Alice had only been sadistic and manipulative up to that point, this was straight up horrifying. From the moment she met Alice she didn’t trust her, both because she was a part of The Whispers, and because it was obvious just how Alice liked to do things. She said that she wanted to be her friend, and more than anything did Pinkamena want to believe that. But after what happened in that alleyway, when she tried to force her to kill to prove a point, even if it was a hallucination, showed her that genuine friendship between them could never be a possibility.
Now she wanted to act all close to her, as if she hadn’t threatened to control her body last night like some kind of meat puppet? No way, she didn’t trust that, not for a second.
“Yeah… I’ll deal with you in a bit. Can you just tell me why my hair and eye changed color?” Pinkamena said as she had to practically peel Alice off of her, trying to keep her voice as neutral as she could.
Alice looked a bit disappointed until she looked up at Pinkamena’s hair, her eyes slightly widening in surprise, even though it was pretty obviously faked since Alice would have a lot of time to notice these changes.
She reached up with one hand grabbing some of her hair, the other hand rubbing her face around where her right eye was, making a slight ‘hmmm’ noise like she was thinking. As Alice touched her, Pinkamena noticed something she hadn’t earlier, Alice felt real. Usually, Alice’s touch felt chillingly cold, more like a dead body than a person. Her hands now felt...warmer, more alive than before. Not as much as an actual person, like a machine trying to imitate one, but it felt real enough.
*What’s with this sudden change? Does it have to do with the brain melding? Does that mean he’s going to be acting differently too?*
Alice abruptly pulled her hands away from Pinkamena, her arms extended to her sides with her palms open facing upwards, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head.
“I dunno. Could be a lot of reasons, changes in pigments, melanin, lotta stuff. Told you there’d be some physical abnormalities, you should just be glad you didn’t grow any extra appendages or anything. If it makes you feel any better, I think it looks really cool!”
Pinkamena rubbed the bridge of her nose, she had hoped after finally gaining access to their memories The Whispers would be more useful, but it was obvious that was too much to expect. Things have only gotten more and more difficult the second she was thrown into those woods.
“Whatever, I’ll just have to get used to it. I need to head back to The Syndicate, a lot of people I need to talk to. Plus I need a shower, I feel...dirty.”
She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and turning it on. It was sometime around noon, about lunchtime if she had been in school that day. She had received some new messages, all of them from about three people. The first two messages were from Applejack, one telling her she had handled things with Sunset, and the next asking where she was.
She wasn’t going to bother responding to her, it’d be easier just to explain things the next time they’d meet.
The next was from Starlight, basically asking her how she was and that she was worried since she hadn’t heard from her for a while. It was a message she sort of expected to come from Maud, but either Maud had a lot of faith in her, or she just knew there wouldn’t be a point in texting her if she was that worried. The next message caused a little concern, especially considering who it was from; Sunset Shimmer.
‘We need to talk.’
*Well, that’s not ominous at all. I’m sure that’s going to be annoying to deal with later.*
She ignored all those messages and typed in Discord’s emergency number, like last time, he picked up almost immediately.
“Pinkie, this isn’t my normal number. This is for emergencies only, and I doubt you’ve had a life or death emergency two times in the past twenty four hours, not even you. So h-”
“The Whispers gave their memories to me, they did the whole ‘brain melding’ thing last night. I figured you’d want to be the first person to know, and that you’d want to do some test or something, to make sure everything was fine.”
He stopped talking for a few seconds, she could hear him sharply inhale, and then what sounded like him slamming a door.
“How do I know this isn’t just them controlling you after you couldn’t survive through it?”
Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, she didn’t think Discord would guess what The Whispers were planning to do if things didn’t work out, she heard Alice scoff behind her.
“You knew they’d do that, huh? Must not have a lot of confidence in me if you were worried about it.”
“I had an inkling, it sounded like something they’d do, and I’m sure they’d be capable of it. Plus, a little doubt never heart anyone. I’m a paranoid man, it’s how I’ve lived so long.”
She glanced back at Alice, who was playing with a few strands of hair she had apparently pulled from her a few moments ago. She wasn’t sure whether the hair was actually there or not, but the idea of her hair just floating if anyone else could see this was a little funny to her.
“Well, if that was what happened, it’d mean I’d basically already be dead. You or anyone else wouldn’t really be able to do anything about it, or even really tell. I could tell you that I’m me, but that wouldn’t really make you believe me.”
Discord stayed silent for a few moments, the only sound she could hear was the sound of him impatiently tapping his finger against something. Alice was also remaining almost completely quiet, which was uncharacteristic of her, she would expect her to say something about Discord guessing their plans.
Then she heard him reluctantly sigh, the sound of him tapping his finger against something abruptly stopping. “You’re right, there’s no point. Any big changes I should know about? I heard a little of your hair was turning black?”
“More than a little, but yeah. As for big changes…” Pinkamena put the phone against her ear and between her shoulder, sharpening the nail on her pointer finger and slicing across the palm of her left hand. She shouldn’t have been surprised when the blood coming out of her was dark black, it had a strange smell to it she couldn’t quite describe, and seemed a bit thicker than normal blood. Otherwise, it was the same. “You could say that, yeah. It’d be easier to show you, I’ve obtained some...peculiarities I’m sure you’ll be interested in.”
The wound began to heal as steam came off her hand, she wiped the blood off on her pants as she grabbed the phone in her other hand, her claw retracting back into a normal fingernail. “I can be at HQ in about an hour, do you mind if I take a shower first? It’s been a while since I’ve taken one, and I should probably also get a new set of clothes.”
“No, wait till after I’m done. I can be there in thirty minutes or so, luckily I have some stuff I need to get done, so I can burn some time. Next time you call this number, if it isn’t a life or death emergency, I will leave you out to dry.” He warned her, ending the call.
She put the phone back in her pocket, slowly standing to her feet. She felt and heard multiple parts of her body pop and crack as she stretched, sleeping for somewhere around thirteen hours or so had made her body rather stiff. She turned around to look at Alice, who was looking up at Pinkamena with a wide grin, like she was expecting candy or something.
“What’s up with the ‘cutesy’ act? It’s kind of freaking me out.”
Alice responded by slightly tilting her head to the left, her grin lowering into an almost unnoticeable frown. “Don’t like it? I thought to be better friends with you, I’d act like the friendliest person I know; You! Or, I guess the old you. Say what you want about how you used to be, immature, annoying, whatever. You were good at being friends with everyone, some of them you got really close to. Now you’re just a big meanie pants who beats themselves up almost as much as they beat up other people, who doesn’t even eat candy anymore!”
She said with emphasis, snapping her fingers as a small, brown bean appeared in the center of her left hand. She walked up to Pinkamena and jumped off the ground, slamming the candy into her mouth.
“Don’t be mean, have a Boston Baked Bean!” Alice shouted as she landed back on the ground, somehow her dress not having moved at all.
Surprisingly, there was no actual force behind what Alice did. Insead of physically putting it in her mouth, it was more like when she made the motion of putting her hand against her mouth, the bean teleported from her hand directly onto her tongue. It tasted exactly like a Boston Baked Bean, she was basically a candy expert, and would recognize that combination of peanut butter with candy coating anywhere. At the same time, she also knew that this piece of candy wasn’t real, and the taste and texture of it felt so real because they were using her memories to recreate it.
“I figured that since we’re basically one person now, then we can really start being besties now! Since we don’t have to worry about keeping you in line, and we don’t have to keep any secrets from you!”
“Yeah, you know, except for all the memories of the previous host, including my father.” Pinkamena said with a roll of her eyes.
“Let me rephrase; No important secrets.”
*The identity of The Silent Killer is pretty important, and whatever else I know you don’t want me to know yet.*
“I suppose it’s better than the cold bitch you were before, then again I doubt he’s going to suddenly change his act like you did, so it is what it is.”
“You can also think of it like I’m a constant reminder of who you used to be, trust me, you do not want to forget that.”
*Oh yeah, because my friends looking at me in pity like I’m a broken toy wondering what happened to me wasn’t enough of a reminder.*
She began to walk into the woods, right past Alice on her way to head back. Alice stopped her by grabbing onto the back of her hoodie. Pinkamena turned back and saw that she was pointing at something, one of the trees around them, though this one was a bit bigger than the others.
“Do me a favor, hit that tree as hard as you can.”
Pinkamena’s eyebrows raised slightly, looking at the tree in confusion.
“Why?”
“Testing something.”
*Yeah, that’s probably the best answer I’m getting, I shouldn't have expected that to change either.*
She walked up to the tree Alice was pointing at, deciding she was better off just listening to Alice. Just because she was acting more friendly now, doesn’t mean they’ll take any more kindly to her defying them.
She put her hand on the tree, trying to get a feel for how tough it was. It was clearly very old and sturdy, a normal iron axe wouldn’t cut it, it would probably take a chainsaw. She’d never punched a tree before, but it couldn’t have been that different from punching a person.
She pulled her arm back to her side, clenching her fist as she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She remembered that during her fight with Michael, she was able to focus her scales on a specific part of her body, taking it away from the rest and hardening whatever she wanted to in that moment. She could do it quickly and it made that part of her body very durable, but the rest was much more vulnerable..
When she did it then, she was practically running on instinct, and she just kind of did it. However, now she felt that she could do it on command if she thought about it. She’d need to work on it, as of right now, it was much slower than back then. There was still a lot of her body and capabilities she wasn’t aware of and needed to practice with, but that was when she’d get a day off.
So never.
She took in a deep breathe as she pictured her right hand hardening, specifically just the knuckles. Cracks began to form in her skin as pieces of it began to fall off, the remaining skin beginning to change shape. Her skin on her arm turned to dark red, lizard-like scales covering her knuckles and everything below it. It was very thick and healed together nicely as steam came from the small cracks, even as she moved her fingers around they didn’t change.
*If I only focus it on one area, it makes it stronger. The less spread out, the better.*
She felt her scales finish forming, noticing that like last time, her hand didn’t feel any heavier or harder to move. Pinkamena pulled her arm back, gritting her teeth and clenching her fist as hard as she could, feeling her entire arm get extremely tense. She grunted loudly as she slammed her fist into the tree, putting all her energy into it and hitting the tree as hard as she could.
She felt the shockwave vibrate throught her entire body, like hitting a ball with a metal bat. Her entire right arm went numb, the scales cracked slightly from the sheer force she pushed out, unable to stop her arm from violently shaking. She couldn’t focus on anything but her body for a moment, before she came back to her senses.
The first thing she heard was the sickening crunch of the wood being crushed, the sound of birds flying away and other animals running away from the tree, dozens of leaves falling to the ground around her. The parts of the tree around where she punched began to crack and shatter, the tree beginning to fall in on its own weight unable to support itself anymore, as the majority of the base had been destroyed. There was a loud creaking noise as the tree began to fall forward, no other trees in the way to stop it.
Pinkamena quickly jumped back, while she would probably survive that tree falling on her, it wasn’t exactly on her list of things to experience. She landed a few feet away from where it landed, though she still felt the wind against her when it did. The sound of a tree that big hitting the ground was deafening, surely it could be heard from almost a mile away. She almost felt bad for punching it now, it was probably a home to at least a handful of animals.
“Did you know when humans exert themselves in any kind of way, the brain sets a limit on how much you can push yourself? It comes from a deep seated instinct for self-preservation, kind of like flinching. Now that we’ve melded, I have a bit more access to your central nervous system, along with other stuff. I can basically remove that limit, and with your healing, you should be Okie Dokie.”
Alice appeared right beside her, staring at the spot where the tree hit the ground with a slight smirk. She seemed to be satisfied with the results, but like she’d still be expecting more.
“So that’s what you did? That sounds dangerous, and there’s no drawbacks or anything?” Pinkamena asked as she looked down at her right arm, relaxing as the scales slowly faded back to her normal skin, pulling out some of the splinters that had gotten into her arm.
“Well, pushing out that much force at once would risk fracturing or breaking bones at worst, and just being agonizingly sore for a while at the least. Shouldn’t be a problem for you, even if you did break something. While I have you here,”
Alice suddenly grabbed Pinkamena by the collar of her hoodie, pulling her down to her knees and at face level with Alice. Alice turned her head to face Pinkamena, the light in her eyes completely gone leaving them empty. Her smile was gone too, her face nothing but blank. Her leer seemed to pierce into her, Pinkamena’s heart dropping as all the heat left her body.
“You will not take Imperium again, or anything like it. If we tell you not to take something, do something, tell someone something, or anything we tell you not to do and you deliberately ignore us again, a brain aneurysm would be like a bug bite compared to what we’d do to you. You were already pushing your luck by asking us to allow you to tell Starlight about us, and there isn’t anything we can do about Discord. I assure you, you don’t want to make an enemy of us. Do we make ourselves clear?”
Fear coursed through Pinkamena’s veins as she felt like she was staring death itself in the face, unable to move or even speak. She nodded her head to say yes, hoping she noticed.
“Good! Then let’s get on with our day!” Alice said as she let go of Pinkamena, her wide smile returning and her malicious stare being replaced with a more joyful one.
*There she is, I knew she wouldn’t have done a full one eighty like that.*
Pinkamena slowly stood up as she felt the heat return to her body, noticing that Alice seemed to have disappeared, which usually meant she was done talking. Pinkamena brought her hands up to her face and tried to fix her hair, the only problem of hers she could fix. She then jumped up onto the nearest tree branch, jumping from branch to branch was likely the fastest way out, certainly faster than running.
Like Alice said, it was time to get her day started. After all, what could possibly be worse than what she went through last night?
Chapter Two, Part One: Discussions.
Her trip back to The Syndicate was...enlightening, in a way. She felt somewhat like when she woke up from that coma, but without the sudden new voices in her head, just the ones already in there that she had to live with. Her changes now were a bit more physical, other than the hair and eye anyway. Her body felt lighter and stronger, she felt like she had more energy than before, jumping from branch to branch was much easier than she thought it’d be.
She wasn’t sure why it was, if it was because of The Whispers ‘turning off her limits’ or whatever they were doing, or it was just because she had finally gotten some actual sleep and was well rested. At the moment, she honestly and truly did not care. Her body was constantly changing, at this rate she wouldn’t be able to recognize herself in the mirror, the voices in her head could take over at any moment if they wanted to, and she wasn’t even sure how much of her was still human. She was just going to have to start embracing what she is and what she was becoming, she couldn’t stop it anymore than she could stop her lungs needing air, change seemed to be an inevitability in her life.
Since she was a bit faster than she expected to be, she got to The Syndicate’s base in forty five minutes rather than an hour. Which meant she had some extra time, if even just a little. When she entered, she put her hood up and tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Pinkamena wasn’t sure if anyone would recognize her with her ‘abnormalities’, but she didn’t want to risk it. She wanted to hear how things were going, and couldn’t get that if they knew she was around.
Pinkamena mostly just wandered around, not staying in any particular place for very long. The hallways seemed to be where people chatted the most as they went place to place, when she noticed people in there, she’d stay against the wall and pretend to be on her phone or something while she was listening to them. Some people looked at her strangely, but didn’t seem to suspect anything other than that.
The rumor mill was about what she expected it to be from people apart of a criminal organization: Body counts, both in sex and how many people they killed. Who was having sex with who, battle stories and the best scores they ever got, stuff that only gave her a bit more insight into some of the people that she was the leader of. If she actually thought she could, and if she didn’t know there were good people too, she’d burn this place to the ground.
In terms of more important stuff, most were relieved and a bit impressed that tension between them and The Apples was gone. She wasn’t sure how exactly that news had gotten tossed around about that, likely with Juno and Discord, but she was glad some of her efforts were known. She was less surprised when they started talking about The Silent Killer, it seemed most knew that she had fought them at least twice before, and thanks to that less criminals had been getting shot. Many seemed thankful for that, but she had a feeling a lot of them were just glad they didn’t have to worry about getting shot the next time they robbed a gas station or something.
Though considering the way Starlight put it, it didn’t matter too much what she did. She said that until Pinkamena graduated, The Council would run things, and that she would essentially be a figurehead. Which was fine with her, it meant she had less to worry about. She was sure that as soon as everything with TSK was settled, they would be teaching her everything she’d need to know, which sounded like it was going to be so much fun.
It was about time for her to start heading to Discord’s office, she wasn’t sure what exactly kind of things he was going to be doing to her, but there was no point in dreading it. As she walked there, she began to form a mental list of things to do in her head, keeping things organized helped make things simple for her.
*First, let Discord do a checkup on me. While I’m with him, I need to try to get as much out of him as I can. I need to know what Starlight meant when she said I needed to ask him about my mom, and whatever else he clearly knows about. Then, I need to talk to Fancy Pants, Zecora, and Michael. I should tell Fancy Pants about what Igneous spent his money on, while being as vague as possible. Give Zecora an update on TSK, and tell her how their weapon seems to be able to morph and change around. And I definitely need to talk to Michael, I have a feeling he knew the effects that Imperium would have on The Whispers. As for Starlight…*
Starlight had left this strange...warm feeling in Pinkamena the last time they spoke, she wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. She liked who Starlight was as a person, she really did. Starlight treated her like a friend, not just a mental case she wanted to fix. She felt that like Sunset and the others, she could forge a genuine friendship with her. Even so, she still felt...hesitant about her. The way she was able to read her and other people was sort of terrifying, she could probably get anyone to do what she wanted by using the right words in the right way if she desired.
She also couldn’t help but feel angry about the relationship she seemed to have with Igneous, she couldn’t accept that Igneous used to be a good person, she just couldn’t. Because if that was true, if he used to be a good person and turned into what he did, and Starlight, Discord, nobody else could save him…
Then what hope was there for her?
*...I’ll talk to Starlight if I come across her, but I won’t go out of my way to find her like the others, not right now at least.*
Discord’s office looked exactly like last time, which was the weird part. She had expected that he’d have painted the room a different color again, but it was the same vertical stripes of scarlet red and plum purple, she could smell the paint was now mostly dry. She saw the various machines and things in his room, the small table with the supercomputer sitting on it, which was the only light in the room.
And the metal table she had been strapped to when she was forced to be a chimera.
It was odd, but the last time she came here, she felt...afraid. There was undeniably some truth to what Starlight told her about having PTSD, there was almost nothing she said in there that wasn’t true in some way. Right now, however, she didn’t feel afraid or on the verge of a panic attack like before. Looking at that table just made her feel...uneasy, not to the point of shaking or heavy breathing, just she would prefer not to touch it if it could be helped.
She wasn’t sure why she didn’t feel as apprehensive as before, maybe it was The Whispers again, but she didn’t feel that cold chill around her heart like usual. It could even be what Starlight said, that she was distracting herself so she wouldn’t have to deal with her emotions.
*Doesn’t matter, not here, not now.*
Pinkamena shook her head and looked around the room, she didn’t see him in the room anywhere. Which threw her off, she had expected Discord would be sitting in here, doing something weird to keep himself busy.
“Woah, what a coinkydink. I left to go take a dump, and here I find you standing in my office, looking for me the one time I’m not here.”
She jumped a little at the sudden voice, turning around to see Discord right behind her, his right hand in his lab coat pocket and the other cleaning out his left ear with a Q-tip. He only gave her a glance before walking past her, pulling the Q-tip out of his ear and looking down at it with a grimace, flicking it into a trash can beside the table.
“Come inside and sit down, I’m old, I need a close look to be able to see you properly.” Discord said as he turned on the light switch, the lightbulb in the center of the room turning on.
Pinkamena looked at Discord in slight astonishment, she hadn’t even felt his presence at all. It was like he wasn’t there one moment, and was the next. She should have heard his heartbeat or something, and while she could now, she didn’t notice it until he was right behind her.
She didn’t realize it until now, but Discord was...kind of terrifying.
He pulled the chair out from the table and turned it to face Pinkamena, he patted it, gesturing for her to sit there. She hesitantly did, noticing how surprisingly comfortable it was. With his right hand already in his lab coat pocket, he pulled out a small flashlight, bending over and shining it directly into both of her eyes. He had a blank look on his face, making no noise as he examined her.
Once he was done with her eyes, he turned his attention to her hair, grabbing one of the pink strains of her hair and examining it with his flashlight. He then let go of it, grabbing another strand that was black and doing the same thing, comparing them. It was hard for her to tell, but something about this felt...off. She knew Discord had more experience with The Whispers than anyone else, and he knew exactly how to deal with them if he could, but it didn’t seem like he was just doing a checkup. Instead, it was more like he was looking for something specific.
She didn’t know what, and got the feeling he wouldn’t tell her if she asked.
“Ok, so,” He mumbled as he straightened himself. “Your hair and eye changed color. What, are you going to start cracking your fingers?”
She felt herself sigh before she heard it, but she couldn’t stop herself from smirking a bit. “You know Discord, one of these days you’re going to find someone who gets all your vague references, and it’s going to be less fun for you.”
“Oh, on the contrary, I hope I do!” Discord said with a hearty chuckle. “If I ever met anyone who got all my references and makes as many as I do, I’d probably fall in love with them instantly.”
As he spoke, his eyes began to travel down to her body. He had this strange look in his eyes, like he was trying really hard to look for something, but he didn’t want to actually find it. As soon as he reached the bottom, his eyes quickly looked back up to meet hers, wearing that same complacent smirk and half-lidded eyes like he normally did.
“Is that all that changed? If so, then I don’t see why we needed to meet for this. You could have just described it to me or sent me a picture, there are a lot of things I’ll tolerate, but wasting my time isn’t one of them.”
“No, there’s something else, I think you’ll want to test it immediately.” Pinkamena said as she sharpened the nail on her pointer finger into a claw, turning her left hand upward and slicing across her palm, letting the black blood begin to seep out. That strange scent began to fill her nostrils as she found herself watching the blood come out of her, finding something about it mesmerizing.
“I think it changed sometime during the melding process, I first noticed when I threw up blood and it looked like this. It has a strange smell that I...really can’t describe, and it seems to be a bit thicker than normal blood, but otherwise I can’t tell any difference. I figured you’d want t-”
Pinkamena stopped talking when she heard erratic panting, accompanied by what might have been the most rapid heartbeats she’d ever heard. She looked up at Discord, the only possible source that it could be coming from.
His eyes were wider than what she thought was possible, his constricted pupils weren’t looking at her, but at her palm, like nothing else existed in the entire world. His right hand was clutching his chest where his heart was, his entire body was shaking like a leaf. Every breath from him sounded strained, his other hand was on the table supporting him so he wouldn’t fall to his knees. She could smell the sweat on him, his heartbeat was louder than anything else in the room. She knew what this was, she’d seen it in the men she killed, she’d seen it when she almost killed Sunset, she’d felt it from herself.
This was raw, complete fear.
“T-thats…why is your blood…?” She heard him say barely more than a murmur, it was the quietest she’d ever heard him speak, and the first time she’d ever heard him stutter.
“Discord? Are you okay?” Pinkamena asked, retracting the claw on her left hand and reaching forward to Discord’s hand.
The second her hand made contact with Discord’s, he recoiled and sharply gasped, pulling his hand away as soon as he made eye contact with her. He stared at her for a few seconds, his mouth agape, she could tell he wanted to say something, but something was stopping him from saying it.
He abruptly closed his eyes and turned around, only his back was visible now. He brought both his hands up to his face, she could still hear his fearful breathing and see him shaking, but he wasn’t saying anything.
Pinkamena wanted to say something, to do something. She knew she shouldn’t have liked Discord, he was the person who turned her into a chimera, and even seemed to enjoy it. But she had to admit Discord had a way of growing on people, as strange as he could be sometimes, she had grown to care for him, if only just a bit. She didn’t know what it was that made him so afraid all of the sudden, but whatever it was had him absolutely terrified, nothing she’d ever expect from Discord.
It obviously had something to do with her blood being black, but she really didn’t know why that’d scare him so much. Suddenly, he took in one deep breath and exhaled, his shaking stopped and she could hear his heartbeat begin to stabilize.
“Sorry about that, I thought you were...never mind.” She heard him say calmly as he turned around, his face completely blank and impossible to read. He reached into his lab coat and pulled out a vacutainer and a vial, grabbed the arm that she cut the palm of and rolled up the sleeve to the elbow. “Let’s pretend that didn’t happen, yeah? Yeah. So, you said it had a strange smell to it? Interesting, I wonder if that means any of the properties have changed, or maybe even something with the neurotransmitters.”
She stared at Discord as he stuck the needle in her arm, furrowing her eyebrows in silence. She knew that wouldn’t be something she’d just forget anytime soon, that was genuine fear. But she also understood that if there was something someone was so afraid of that it shook them to the core like that, it wasn’t something they’d want to talk about. She wouldn’t push it then, but it was definitely something she’d be bringing up later.
“It does, I’d describe it to you if I could, but I really don’t know how to put it into words. It’s not particularly strong since I can ignore it, but there’s something about that that’s just...wrong.”
Discord responded only with a grunt, watching her black blood flow through the tube and fill up the vial, his eyes looked distant as he was deeply thinking about something. “I’ve got some more info on The Silent Killer for you, Blake’s doing his job.”
Discord noticed her flinch when he said Blake’s name, glancing up at her and staying silent for a few moments before continuing. “This was something Igneous assumed, but now we have it confirmed. There is nothing that suggests TSK is active anywhere else, they seem to be sticking to Manhattan. I told him to come back to Manhattan and to gather as much information as he can, but that he’s not allowed to come back to HQ until you give the go ahead.”
Blake had been a subject of thought she’d been avoiding, even after her talk with Starlight. She was trying her hardest to not think of him, if there was as much truth to what Starlight told her, that was for the best. She needed to keep him as far away from her as possible for as long as possible, she needed to hold on to her hatred for him, before it turned into something much, much worse.
“I can’t deal with him Discord, not right now. But, I have some new information about them, I’m not sure if it’s good or bad news. They said they were looking for me, but they didn’t tell me why or if that’s the reason they started killing criminals.”
Discord eyebrow raised slightly as he looked back down at the vial, pulling it out as it got to the full point. He put a cork on the top and put it in his lab coat pocket, pulling out the vacutainer and throwing it away.
“I had an inkling that was the case, they did show up about two or three weeks after we dropped you off. Having it confirmed narrows down who it could be at least. I’ll run some tests on your blood and see if I can tell why it’s changed, but since you’re sitting here and you seem healthy enough, I’m going to guess it isn’t dangerous.”
Discord placed his hand on a random part of the wall, pushing it in and causing it to collapse on itself and slide down into the wall. He reached into the square hole it made and pulled out a bag of watermelon Twizzlers, as soon as he pulled the bag out the part of the wall that slid down came back up, hiding the hole and making it seem like it was never even there. He ripped open the bag and put one in his mouth, it hung out like a cigar as he chewed on it.
“If that’s all, than I’m going to go ahead an-”
“I want to talk about Cloudy.”
He stopped chewing as he stared at her awkwardly, pulling the half eaten Twizzler out of his mouth and holding it in his fingers like a cigarette. “Well, I was going to leave that up to Maud to tell you, but oh well. After she heard that Igneous was dead, she tried to kill Maud, but ended up killing hersel-”
“That’s not what I wanted to talk about, I already know about that. Starlight told me there was something I should know about Cloudy, and that you’d be able to explain it better than anyone.”
Discord didn’t say anything for a few seconds, staring at her with an angry glare, though he seemed more upset at what she said rather than her. He tossed the rest of the Twizzler in his mouth and ate it, setting the bag on the table behind him. He crossed his arms and lowered his head, leaving his facial expression impossible for Pinkamena to see.
“Pinkie, w-”
“Pinkamena, call me...Pinkamena. I’m not Pinkie anymore, I haven’t been for a while.”
Pinkamena had been thinking about what she wanted to be called for a while, remembering when she yelled at Maud not to call her Pinkie anymore. Pinkie was the upbeat, friendly girl she had become after her first party, even if that happiness was fake like Starlight said, there were moments of undeniably genuine joy. Pinkamena, while also being her full name, was who she was before that party. Miserable and alone, unable to make even herself happy, so much as anyone else. A few people had called her Pinkie, she knew why, it was shorter and easier to say. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that it hurt her to be called that, even by the people who used to be her closest friends.
“Pinkamena, then. When is the last time you can remember having your period?”
Pinkamena was a bit surprised at Discord’s bluntness, but then she remembered he didn’t really have a filter when it comes to social situations. He was evidently good at reading the room, he just didn’t seem to care.
“I...would guess sometime during my coma after my fight with Igneous? I haven’t had another one since I woke up, so I should be due soon.”
“No, your last period was on the second day Blake gave you to me. It’s also the last period you’ll be having ever, being a Chimera means you can’t produce offspring. Something about mixing the DNA of animals and humans messes with the reproductive system, I won’t go into the details. For men, it basically makes it to where they’re shooting blanks. For women, you stop producing eggs.”
“But...then how did Igneous have us? Hadn’t he been the leader for twenty years or so?” Pinkamena asked as she rolled the sleeve back over her arm, noticing that something about Discord seemed really...tense.
“That’s where your mother came in. If the leader is a man, it’s essential for them to have children. If it’s a woman, we have a selection process. The problem comes from their ability to reproduce, since all leaders are required to be Chimera’s, they can’t do that. Usually, they have at least one kid before. In the case where they don’t like Igneous, well.”
Discord stopped talking for a second, reaching into the bag of Twizzlers and handing her one. She took it out of his hands and peeled a piece of it off, sticking it in her mouth and beginning to chew on it. It had a taste like watermelon bubblegum, but the texture of licorice, it was the type of candy to just mindlessly chew on.
“It hasn’t happened for a while, but in the case someone is made a leader and they don’t have any children, we use what we call a Surrogate. Basically their genes are...modified to be extremely fertile, to where even a male chimera can impregnate them. Since there are no more eggs being produced, this can’t be done with a female leader. So I hope you never wanted to have children, it’s basically impossible now.”
Pinkamena felt a bit sad about the revelation, but not overly bothered by it. It wasn’t just an excuse when she told Starlight she’d be a bad mother, it was the truth. She didn’t know how to care for and love a child since she’d been neglected like she had, she was never a responsible person, and right now she’d likely even be a worse mother than she thought.
It didn’t really matter how she felt about it anyway, it was done and was just another thing she’d have to live with.
“No big deal, at least I don’t have to deal with periods anymore. So is that what Cloudy was? A Surrogate?” Pinkamena mumbled as she peeled another part of the Twizzler, noticing that sometime while he was talking Discord pulled another one out of the bag and was chewing on it.
“She was, and I’m the one who did the modifications. Something went wrong and she was only able to make girls, I tried to fix it, but I just couldn’t. It had something to do with the eggs she was producing only being able to accept sperm that would turn into girls, it was really weird. It bothered him a lot because he always wanted a son, but it is how it is. That isn’t all though, there’s a bit more to it than that.”
Discord ate the rest of the Twizzler, uncrossing his arms and putting his hand against a part of the wall. It slid into the wall and revealed the cooler she had seen before, he pulled out two of the same brown can full of mixed candies and hot chocolate, cracking open one and giving the other to her. The cooler wall closed again as soon as he pulled the cans out, making it seem like it wasn’t even there.
“As I’m sure you’ve become aware of, The Syndicate likes to make sure everything is kept perfectly managed and under their control, it’s where The Whispers get it from. The sole purpose of a Surrogate is to bear and raise children, nothing more and nothing less. So, they pick the youngest girl they can from an orphanage, take them, and raise them with that mindset. All other emotions, desires, and anything else gets removed. It’s drilled into them that they’re only meant to be mothers and nothing else, they’re hardly even human any more.
It’s why she was so cold and emotionless, she was only taught to make sure you were alive and went to school, that was it. Everything else was negligible, as long as you were physically healthy, that’s all that mattered. When Igneous died, and she heard you were in a coma, she felt that she had lost her entire purpose, since she knew that Maud was not fit to be the leader. She tried to kill Maud, failed, and killed herself. I know you probably didn’t feel anything for her, but...I’m sorry for your loss.”
Pinkamena listened to his explanation in silence, having finished the remainder of the Twizzler. Her face remained mostly blank, only flinching once or twice as she listened. When she was done, she cracked open the can and brought it up to her mouth.
“That,” She said as she chugged the entire can, the sweet liquid dissolving in her mouth as she drank it. “Sounds like a really shitty existence. I never loved her, but knowing this, I can’t bring myself to hate her either. Whatever, I think I’ve wasted enough of both of our time.”
Pinkamena tossed the can into the trash can, standing out of the chair and pushing it under the table. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that Michael is still in the infirmary, I doubt he’s in any state to start physical therapy yet. Can you tell me where Fancy Pants and Zecora are? I got some things I should talk to them about.”
“You’re in luck, Zecora and Fancy Pants are in the same place right now. They’re in the workshop right now, apparently Zecora has been getting into building custom guns and gun parts. Fancy Pants heard about it and is trying to convince her to start selling them, I doubt that he can convince her though, she’s stubborn and doesn’t care about profit.”
Discord sipped his can after speaking, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his flip phone. He flipped it open and began texting someone, a lot faster than she’d think someone that old would be able to.
“I’m sure you’d also like to know that I gave Juno the day off because he needs to sleep, so you can do whatever you want today without being watched. I’m also sure you still want to take a shower, go to the private one down the hall and to the left. Leave your dirty clothes outside and lock the door, I’ll have someone bring a new set.”
Pinkamena nodded as she walked past him, opening up the door and preparing to walk out.
“Starlight’s been worried about you, you know. She’d never say it, but she always wanted to meet you and the rest of your friends. She talks about you a bit when you’re not around and I think she really likes you, but she also pity’s you, and I know you really don’t like it when people pity you. You two should talk about that, avoiding Blake I can understand, but don’t avoid Starlight. She’s been hurt by too many people she cares about, please don’t be added to that list.”
Pinkamena was surprised at how serious and yet gentle Discord’s voice was, that was probably the most genuine advice he’d given her. He didn’t look at her when he said it, but she was sure he had some intense look on his face. She didn’t even realize Discord cared about the feelings of others, he seemed like a science focused person, who always has something to do according to his agenda. Maybe she’s growing on him as much as he’s growing on him.
Or maybe he’s just bored, it was impossible to tell with him.
“I’m not avoiding her Discord, I’m just...I need to think about a lot of things, to decide what I want to do. I don’t want to say the wrong thing to her, it’s just not the right time. I appreciate the advice, thank you.”
Pinkamena didn’t say anything else, leaving the room and leaving Discord by himself. He stared at the spot she was at, before giving a disapproving grunt and looking back at his phone, sipping from his can.
“‘It’s not the right time?’ That’s what they always say.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
She was actually a bit surprised there were private showers at all, she had expected a place this big with this many people would have one entire section dedicated to hygiene related stuff, or maybe even two sections. Now that she thought about it, private showers did make some sense. If the leader and members of The Council got their own offices, their own bathrooms wouldn’t be weird. That just meant that she would have had her own private bathroom somewhere near her office, that was something she’d have to find later.
The private shower she was at right now was certainly Discord’s, and the reason it wasn’t in his office itself was probably because he needed the space. The door blended almost perfectly into the brown walls, only noticeable by the white doorknob. She was a bit hesitant in entering, since it belonged to Discord, she was sure the inside was going to have some bizarre design.
That wasn’t the case, however. While the room was small, just barely big to have everything a bathroom would need, it had a normal design. The roof and wall were made out of white tiles, the entire floor was covered in a similarly white rug, and it all was kept incredibly clean, almost sparkling. To her left was a porcelain toilet with a toilet roll holder built in the wall, across from that was a porcelain sink with a small mirror above it. The back of the room was where the actual shower was, about as big as a bathtub with a bright blue shower curtain.
“This is...surprisingly nice, much nicer than any bathroom I’ve ever been in.” Pinkamena said as she looked around, noticing there was a towel rack in between the shower and the toilet.
She began taking off her clothes, neatly folding them and putting them into a pile on the ground. After a minute or so she was completely naked, with the exception of the silver necklace around her neck, the gold heart shaped pendant with the red jewel in the center still being the cleanest part. She held the pendant in her hand, feeling hesitant about taking it off. Ever since she woke up from that coma, she hasn’t been without the necklace. Not having it with her felt wrong, it was all she had of her sisters, losing it would be...painful.
*This...doesn’t need to go with the clothes, I can clean it myself.*
Pinkamena picked up the pile of clothes, opening the door slightly and placing them outside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She walked over to the sink, taking off the necklace and turning the handle to start washing it. Since she always wore it under so many layers of clothing, it barely had anything on it that needed to be cleaned, but taking care of it helped soothe her. She also noticed the distinct rust on some parts of the silver chain from when it was in the woods, but she couldn’t get rid of that without significantly more effort and some baking soda.
When she was done cleaning the necklace, she set it on the edge of the sink, looking up and seeing her naked reflection in the mirror, something she hadn’t seen in a while. Her body was completely hairless, a preference Blake forced on her daily when he’d shave every inch of her body except for her head, a part of his callous routine. However, that didn’t explain why no hair has grown since, it had to have something to do with being a Chimera.
Her body was still somewhat well toned and muscular, she had to be to survive those woods. She had an outline of her abs and not a lot of fat on her body, though she was still more voluptuous than a lot of girls her age. Before she changed, her skin was good, but not flawless. She had some acne and stretch marks, but now those were all gone, there was nothing on her skin anywhere thanks to her healing factor. She remembered how upset she got when she learned that her scars were gone, she wanted to keep them as a constant reminder of her hatred for them.
Now she understood how pointless that would have been, the memories were more than enough.
It would also seem Starlight’s theory was right, being naked like this made her feel...very vulnerable. She felt incredibly overwrought, her body shaking slightly and a feeling of disgust building up inside of her. She shook her head as she tried to ignore it, turning to the shower curtain and pulling it aside.
She stepped into the shower, turning the water on as hot as she could, the burning would help her ignore it.
The boiling hot water burned her skin, steam started to cloud up her vision, but the scorching pain helped her ignore the anguish building up inside her. She reached for a soap bar, pressing it against her chest.
Every part of you is perfect, and every part of you belongs to me, don’t you ever forget that.
She flinched as she made contact, reminding her of when Blake would touch her. He was never gentle with her, never even once. His hands were absurdly rough, it felt more like sandpaper than anything else. He always took his time running his hands all over her before he started with his torture, if she were lucky, just touching was all he felt like doing to her.
Pinkamena bit the inside of her cheek, the taste of blood and the pain helped her stop thinking about it. She kept lightly biting as she felt the thick taste of her own blood, she noticed it tasted exactly the same as it smelled, and she wasn’t able to describe it any better. She thoroughly covered every inch of her body with soap, but no matter how much she tried to clean herself, she didn’t feel less dirty.
She spit the blood out of her body as she washed herself, the heat was becoming less of a distraction as she got used to it. She grabbed a bottle of conditioner on a stand inside the shower, which had varying soap bars, shampoo, conditioner, and other stuff. She squirted some of the pink liquid onto her hand, rubbing her hands together and bringing them to her hair. She put it in her hair and felt it run down her face, closing her eyes to prevent any from getting in them.
As soon as she closed her eyes and darkness encompassed her vision, even if just for a second, she felt like she was on that table again. That cold feeling on her back as her naked body was against the table, the straps tying down her hands and ankles so tightly the blood flow was almost completely cut off, her thrashing against them never got her any closer to freeing herself. She could almost taste the wooden mouthpiece, her teeth biting down on it so hard it felt like her teeth would shatter, and that was negligible compared to whatever was being done to her.
She hadn’t even felt when she fell to her knees, she only noticed when she felt the hot water just hitting her back. Her entire body began to shake, despair spreading to the rest of her body like a disease, holding her head with her hands to try to stop thinking.
But she couldn’t, she couldn’t stop thinking about it and she couldn’t forget it. The way his nails would dig into her body deep enough to draw blood, how her tears and her muffled screams just made him happier. His manic laughter as he hurt her, all the promises he made of what he’d do to her, and he carried through on every single one.
The feeling of him...inside her, having his way with her in whatever way he felt like, nothing more than an object to him. Some part of her was glad that Discord made it to where she couldn’t get pregnant, the idea of Blake impregnating her was more terrifying than almost anything else he did to her. Even so, she knew she’d never be able to have sex with a man again, anytime she woulld she’d be reminded of him.
She whimpered like an injured animal as she felt tears run down her face, unable to tell what was her tears and what was water. She sat on her knees in the shower, her hands against her head unable to stop herself from shaking. Her black blood dripped from her mouth as she bit the insides of her cheeks to stop the flashbacks, but that only seemed to make them worse.
She couldn’t take it anymore, she had to admit it, she needed help.
She needed Starlight.
Chapter Two, Part Two: Discussions.
Author's Notes:
Hello! Sorry this took so long, preparation for college has been pretty hectic. I also figured I should warn that if you're reading Men and Monsters for the fight scenes, there won't be a lot for this arc. Not to say there won't be any, just not as much as you'd like probably. As you might have guessed from the end of the chapter, the next one will be a therapy session chapter, for those of you that like those.
Thanks for taking the time to read this, please tell me if you spot any grammar or story issues, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, and enjoy!
“Showers aren’t for crying silly, what are you doing?”
Pinkamena was sure that if it weren’t for the fact that The Whispers spoke directly into her head and weren’t actually there, she wouldn’t have heard them. She felt Alice’s hand rest on her shoulder, the way someone would do to try to comfort someone, but she quickly felt that wasn’t the only purpose. She felt a deep cold that started at her shoulder and spread to the rest of her body, encompassing her heart like a shell made of ice, her emotions dulled and numbed out until it was like they weren’t even there.
Her intense feeling of panic and fear burned into her by Blake were gone, her heartbeat no longer beating like a drum and her body’s shaking was negligible. She slowly began to stand up, letting her arms drape to her side as bits of steam came from her mouth, the wounds on the inside of her mouth healing.
Pinkamena turned to look back at Alice, she could already feel her back starting to prune up from the constant exposure to the water. Alice was standing directly behind her, completely unaffected by the water, even her dress looked completely dry. She pulled her hand back and then twirled in a circle, her arms stretched to the side as she beamed an innocent smile.
“Thank you, I...thanks, but you have to stop doing that. It’s helped me out a lot before, but it isn’t a long term solution and Starlight’s right, it’s an incredibly unhealthy one. I’ve spent enough of my life repressing and ignoring, I need to stop.”
She looked up at the shower head and washed off whatever was left, she’d wasted enough time in there. She turned the shower off and pulled the curtain aside, stepping out as water dripped off her body. She grabbed one of the towels and began to dry herself off, the warm feeling of the fabric let her know it recently came out of a dryer.
“We’ve already done this song and dance before though; You told us to stop and to let you deal with them, because you thought it would help you and that you could handle it. Then once you got the full brunt of it, you cried like a big ole baby and begged us to help you. No offense to you, but that didn’t exactly inspire confidence.”
She hated to admit it, but what Alice was saying was true. She had been trying to avoid thinking about it, but those few moments of being completely overwrought with all of the emotions of The Whispers was...powerful, for lack of a better word. She thought she could handle it, but the truth was, there were a lot of things she couldn’t handle.
“That’s because you just completely cut me off, I thought that was the best way to do it, I was wrong. Instead, it needs to be a process, something I can get used to. Don’t do it unless I need it, but when you do, don’t just completely torpefy it, let a little seep through. Each time it happens to numb it a little less, if I get exposed to it bit by bit I can get used to it, call it tough love.”
She saw Alice appear beside her out of the corner of her eyes, she had just appeared there and didn’t actually move. She was still giving her a wide grin, her hands floofing out parts of her dress to try to dry it, even though the dress wasn’t actually wet.
She wasn’t sure why The Whispers even bothered to show up like the way they did when they could easily stay in her head and talk to her, but even if she asked, she wasn’t sure she’d get a direct answer.
“Tough love, huh? Yeah, we can do that. Ok, we’ll try it! We should probably tell you though, eventually, we’re going to lose the ability to do that since we melded with you.”
Pinkamena walked over to the door while still wearing the towel, opening it and seeing that there was a clean, identical set of clothes to what she was wearing before, sitting outside in a neatly folded pile waiting for her. She grabbed it with her right hand while keeping the towel up with her left, shutting the door and turning to face Alice, not bothering to lock it back.
“Lose the ability? What do you mean?” Pinkamena asked curiously as her towel dropped, putting the clothes on starting with the underwear: A pink set of panties and a bra similar to the ones she was wearing before, she decided not to question how they knew her sizes.
“Usually, we wouldn’t. We’d be able to do stuff like that as long as we stayed with you, however, you are a special case since we decided to only give you just their knowledge, not their memories. The knowledge will stay with you as long as we do, but we can feel it even now, they’re fading. Soon, they will be gone, along with the emotions they harbor, not even we can stop it. Since this hasn’t happened before, we can not say when they will totally vanish. It could be a month, it could be a year. We’d still be able to numb your emotions, of course. But you don’t want that, and we don’t either. Other than losing the ability to numb your emotions, nothing else should change, as far as we can tell.”
Alice placed her pointer finger on Pinkamena’s stomach, tracing a circle around her belly button. She tried to ignore her as she connected the clasp of her bra, but it sort of tickled and she’d always been a bit ticklish.
“How convenient, that as soon as I tell you I don’t want you to keep doing something, you say you’ll soon lose the ability to do it.”
Pinkamena flinched as Alice pinched her, which hurt a lot more than it should have. “Don’t get sassy with me now, missy. You should be glad things went the way it did, if we hadn’t done what we did, you probably would have died or gotten even worse physical abnormalities. You should be thanking us!”
She let go of Pinkamena, crossing her arms and puffing up her cheeks as she pouted. Her copper hair flowed like it was being hit by a strong wind, though there wasn’t the slightest breeze in the room.
*I’m not sure what’s scarier, how well she’s playing the role of the spoiled little girl, or the fact that it’s all an act. If she introduced herself like that, I never would have known. Which reminds me…*
“So, there’s something I’ve been wondering about for a while. From what I understand, you have two goals; Protect The Syndicate, and protect your host. But that doesn’t make sense, if that was true, why did you let them kill themselves? While I’m at it, why did you let me post that bounty when it would have put my life in danger? I don’t get it, what’s your goal?”
Pinkamena made sure to keep a level tone as she asked, she’d learned that they really didn’t like it when she demanded answers from them. She began to slip on the white-tshirt, appreciating the warmth that came from it that showed it was recently dried.
Alice glared at her in silence before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and blowing out the air in her cheeks. Opening her eyes slightly with a more serious look than before, her lips curving downward into an almost unnoticeable frown.
“You seem to have a misunderstanding about our purpose, we can clarify with an example: If someone were to burst into the room right now and stab you in the heart, killing you near instantly, would that be our fault for not taking control of your body in that split second, reacting faster than you can and saving your life?”
There was a distinct snarkiness in her voice, like a professor who’d studied a subject for decades and knew the answer to that question in vivid detail. Pinkamena stopped in the middle of slipping on her jeans, glowering her eyes as she heard the question. Alice knew how much she hated the idea of losing control of her body, even for a moment. She had already lost almost everything else in her life, she’d rather die than lose the last bit of freedom she had left, even if it was to save her own life.
She knew Alice knew that, so why was she even asking that? There had to be some specific answer she was looking for, but there was no way she’d be able to guess it.
“No, but I do-”
“It’d be your fault.” Alice said with strong empathize, poking her finger directly against her chest where her heart would be. “Your fault for not always being on guard, and your fault for not having better reflexes. You have the potential to be amazing, but you’ll never grow if you can’t be independent.”
Her finger suddenly shot upward, flicking the tip of Pinkamena’s nose. She was temporarily dazed by the sudden act, shaking her head and deciding to focus on putting her clothes on, she could feel a lecture coming on.
“We recognized that the previous hosts were trying to kill themselves through self-destructive behavior, we tried to stabilize their mental state and help them, but almost all of them had an incredible distrust of us. There was one who didn’t, but they were....inconsolable. You seem to have a similar paranoia of us, but you have someone who’s very good with those sorts of things and they care about you, so you have a better chance than almost any before you.”
Alice suddenly disappeared, reappearing in front of the sink. She put her hands on the edge of the sink and stood on the tip of her toes, allowing her to see her reflection.She got closer to the mirror and grabbed a strain of her hair, lifting it up like she was examining it. She seemed genuinely surprised and curious about it, like the very concept of her hair growing amazed her.
*I’m...not sure whether she’s putting on a show, or if she was actually startled by her hair getting longer.*
“Anyway, what I’m saying is, we can’t intervene every time you’re in danger. You have to be able to keep improving and getting better, if not, than it’d be better for The Syndicate if someone more capable took over. You can’t become dependent on us, we’re here to assist you, not as a crutch. It’s like a kid on a bike, you’ll never learn if the training wheels are kept on.”
Alice jumped down from the sink, more or less satisfied with her examination. She turned to face Pinkamena, but her eyes were still looking upward, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth like she was concentrating on something. Her hands were messing around with hair, somehow changing it to different hairstyles even though she had no hair bands or anything of the like. First she changed it to pigtails, making a slight humming noise as she internally debated whether she liked it or not.
“While we feel there were much better options to gaining the trust of The Syndicate by posting that bounty, we do recognize it as what it was: An idea you came up with to get them to trust you. It wasn’t the best, but there have been worse.”
She made a dissatisfied scowl as she decided she didn’t like the pigtails, moving her hair around and changing its shape with little effort. Soon her hair was in a ponytail, her bangs pulling back slightly showing more of her face.
“We also figured Discord wouldn’t let a stunt like that go by, with the state The Syndicate was in and so many things going on, the death of another leader wouldn’t have been something he could risk. It’s part of the reason we consider taking over an absolute last resort, the melding process was seen as a hurdle. If you could survive that, then we can trust you are good enough.”
Alice walked up to Pinkamena, her hair still in a ponytail and her hands on the sides of her head like she was worried it would fall apart. She had a very conflicted look on her face, unable to tell whether she liked it or not.
“What do you think?”
Pinkamena finished buttoning up her pants and glanced at Alice, noticing that her hair had changed. She stared at it for a few seconds, before bringing her hand to Alice’s head, giving her hair a light tussle, causing the ponytail to fall apart and her hair to go back to how it was normally.
“Keep it like you usually do. No one’s going to be able to see you but me, and it’s already annoying enough that you keep switching dresses and fairy tales, so just keep it like this.”
Pinkamena turned back to the rest of her clothes, seeing the satisfied smirk on Alice’s face as she turned away. She reached down and picked up the leather jacket, swiftly slipping it on with ease. It was strange, she had never worn a leather jacket before all this, but now it fit her like a glove. She felt a strange urge to wear one ever since she woke up and has ever since, though she wasn’t exactly sure whether she looked good in it or not.
She leaned down to grab the black hoodie, the only piece of clothing left, but hesitated. She remembered the conversation she had with Starlight, specifically the part where she theorized that she wore so many clothes because the more naked she felt, the more vulnerable she was.
She wasn’t sure if there was truth to that, sadly, there was only one person, or thing in this case, she could ask to confirm it.
“I’m...not sure if I should be asking you this, but is there any truth to Starlight’s theory? The one about me wearing so many clothes because I feel vulnerable with less clothing?”
Alice made a questioning grunting noise, having either not heard the question, or didn’t entirely understand it. She stared at Pinkamena for a few seconds, following her line of sight to the folded black hoodie on the ground. Her mouthing forming into a form circle, making a slight ‘oh’ noise as she understood.
“There is. Starlight is very experienced and smart when it comes to psychological stuff, it’s the main reason we allowed you to tell her about us. You should trust her theories, most of the time, there is a lot she’s right about.”
“So...I should start wearing less clothing, so I can start moving past Blake?”
There was a tone of desperation in her question, something that Alice discerned immediately. Alice scowled for a moment, then she relaxed her face and closed her eyes, only a slight frown on her face giving away what she was thinking.
“It would be a start, yes. But something you should note is that this is a first for us as well, we’ve been a part of people who have been tortured like you have, none of have had quite the...effect like Blake. If allowed to fester, it would...be very bad. After you talk to Michael and the others, you will go talk to Starlight, even if we have to make you.”
Pinkamena noticed the threatening tone in her voice, but she knew they were right. She couldn’t have a panic attack every time she took a shower, and she couldn’t almost kill someone every time she got touched the wrong way like that old man in the apartment complex. She needed to start getting better, if not for herself, than for the others.
She reached into the hoodie’s pockets and pulled out the stuff that was left in there, glad they had checked her clothes and put her stuff in there like she figured they would. She pulled her phone out, turning it on and seeing they had charged it for her, and then slipping it into her jean pocket. She pulled out the lighter that was left in there that she bought from the gas station, putting that in her pocket too and realizing she was already collecting more lighters than she needed.
Her fingers scraped across the plastic material of Blake’s mask, causing her to suddenly sharply inhale as shivers were sent down her spine. She pulled back her hand almost like a reflex, bringing it to her chest to feel her heartbeat, which had suddenly skyrocketed. Alice was cautiously watching her from the side, prepared to intervene if necessary.
*That mask bothers me just to look at, so why am I wearing it? Is it because it reminds me of Blake? Or is it something else?*
She had been wearing that mask for a while now, and yet she wasn’t any closer to understanding why she wanted to. Even if it was just because she wanted to wear a mask, Starlight was right, there were plenty of other options. It didn’t make sense why she chose the mask of the person who tortured her, at least, not to her.
Just another thing she’d have to talk to Starlight about, she did mention that she had a few guesses as to why.
She pulled the mask from the hoodie, ignoring the feeling of disgust and fear as she pushed it as far down her back pocket as she could. It bulged out a bit, but it was mostly unnoticable. She picked up the hoodie and walked out of the bathroom, setting it down on the ground beside the door. Alice was outside waiting for her, standing against the wall with her eyes closed.
Pinkamena felt a bit...exposed, filled with an urge to put her hoodie on like when she had her first session with Starlight. She ignored it, she could deal with this, she’s dealt with worse.
“I still need to talk to Michael, Zecora, and Fancy Pants. Hopefully, Zecora and Fancy are still in the same place. Who do you think I should talk to first?”
Alice opened one eye, only looking at her for a moment before closing it again. “Fancy and Zecora, if you wait too long they might separate, and Michael isn’t going anywhere.”
She had a slight feeling they were suggesting that partly because they have some sort of disdain against Michael, she still remembered what happened when she tried to ask them for advice with him. But she decided to not ask that again, starting to walk down the left hallway where the shooting range was, appreciating that The Whispers had given her a mental layout of the place.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“And I’m telling you that if you were to start implementing some of these ideas, you could make hundreds, no, millions! You are an absolute genius when it comes to guns, if you started making and selling custom guns, I’d know half a dozen people willing to pay for them in mass. Hell, I’d fund you if you needed it!”
“Greed is one of the cardinal sins, and it is making you rash,
Even if it were to make me rich, I will not exploit my gift for cash.”
Pinkamena walked into the workshop area in the back of the shooting range, the same place she met Zecora for the first time previously. She heard them arguing as soon as she walked in, though Fancy was pseudo-shouting, he still had that calm, slightly snooty voice. While Zecora was still rhyming, there was still a distinct upset tone in her voice.
They were sitting at the middle workbench, apparently the only people in the entire place. They were both sitting on dark brown leather stools, Zecora’s was facing the workbench, a disassembled H&K G11 laid on the table in front of her as she swiftly cleaned each part. Fancy Pants was sitting on an identical stool facing Zecora, moving around a bit uncomfortably, it seemed he wasn’t used to sitting on things like stools.
“You’re more stubborn than I thought you’d be Fancy, is The Syndicate low on money or something?”
Fancy glanced at Pinkamena when he heard her voice, giving her a welcoming smile as he turned to face her. His eyes went up to her hair for a moment and then her red eye when he noticed it was a different color, but it only lasted a moment and he didn’t seem like he was going to ask about it. “Oh, Pinkamena, what a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t expecting you here. Come on over here, and I’ll explain.”
Fancy pulled another stool from another workbench, placing it between him and Zecora. While the striped gun expert didn’t even acknowledge her existence, she was incredibly concentrated on cleaning the individual gun parts she was working on. Considering how easily she did that with the previous gun, this one must have been fairly complex.
Pinkamena walked forward until she was standing a few inches away from them, waving her hand dismissively as she decided not to sit down. “I’m not going to be here very long, so I think I’ll just stand. I got some things to talk to you guys about and then I gotta go, but I have time to listen to...whatever this is about.”
“Hmmm, how do I put it?” He had a disgruntled look on his face as he closed his eyes, crossing his arms and thinking like he was trying to remember how a certain phrase went. “I have a...let’s call it a ‘hunch’ that within the coming months, there’s going to be a lot of hectic events. Right now, we have a steady income from multiple sources, and we currently have an abundance of money. But…”
He opened his eyes and scowled, it looked almost wrong to see that look on Fancy’s face when he usually seemed so calm. “Something is telling me we’re going to need a lot. Besides, it doesn’t really hurt to have extra for an organization this big, right?”
His face relaxed and his calm demeanor returned as he looked up at Pinkamena, giving her a smirk that she was pretty sure was meant to be reassuring. She glanced over at Zecora, who even though she looked like she was only focusing on what she was doing, Pinkamena could tell she was listening intently.
“Well, I can’t say extra funds would be a bad thing if you’re right. But basing it all on a hunch? That’s a little iffy, I have to admit.”
“Hey now, you really shouldn’t underestimate my hunches!” He said with a hearty chuckle, smiling at her like he was boasting about some unique skill he had. “It’s a little more than just hunches, you could call it intuition. I get them from my father, which is how he was so good with managing all the money. Part of being able to do that is being able to tell what investments are worth it, and when things are going to get bumpy. Right now, my intuition is telling me things are going to get downright chaotic soon, and I’d like to have the reserves to deal with whatever it is.”
*That’s as good of a reason as any, I suppose. Having extra money would be a good thing, but it also makes me worried about whatever he’s preparing for.*
“And you really think if Zecora starts making custom guns and gun parts, that’ll give us the money you think we’ll need?”
Pinkamena looked over Zecora’s shoulder, her movements were incredibly precise and gentle, it reminded her of a surgeon. More than half the gun had already been cleaned and reassembled, pretty soon she’d be done with it. She had a feeling that one of the main reasons Zecora did this so often wasn’t just because she was good at it, but also it helped her think. The question was, what was she thinking about that often?
“Indeed. I could get the funds other ways, it would just take significantly more time. But if Zecora’s custom guns are as magnificent as the blueprints suggest, then this would be comparable to military grade weapons. Not only that, but if we were to provide these weapons to our men, I could guarantee casualties would go down, and there would be virtually no threats we couldn’t handle. Not like there are any now other than The Apple family, but it doesn’t hurt to be overly cautious.”
She couldn’t help but wonder how Fancy had heard about it in the first place, or how he had even convinced her to show him the blueprints. It didn’t really matter though, it was done and it was just something she was going to have to deal with now.
“Did Zecora tell you the reason she was making this custom gun in the first place was because of a promise she made to Igneous?”
Fancy’s eyes widened in surprise, his smile faltering for a second. “No...she hadn’t.” He turned to look at Zecora, seeming curious as to why she didn’t tell him that.
“Zecora, you don’t want to start making a lot of these because you don’t like abusing your skill, and because you don’t like to do things that are profit focused, right?”
She stopped cleaning the parts, turning her head a bit to the left towards her. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but closed it and instead just gave a nod. The sound of her cleaning parts and assembling the gun came back, though now they seemed a bit faster than before.
*I guess not even Zecora can rhyme everything, especially to yes and no questions.*
Pinkamena heavily sighed, she didn’t like playing the mediator. “I understand that, but I don’t agree with it. I can’t ignore the benefits either, so how about this: I get wanting to keep a promise, but Igneous is very dead, whatever he wanted with it doesn’t matter anymore. You have to make at least two, counting the one you’re making for me. So, how about you make the first one useful and give it to the guy outside? He’s really good with guns, and if he had enough time, he seems like he could recreate it. This way, everyone gets what they want, and you don’t have to make any more than you already do.”
Fancy’s eyebrows furrowed as he brought his hand to his chin, appearing genuinely confused for a moment and trying to think about something. Then his face relaxed and his eyes widened as he realized something. “Are you talking about Randolph? My, I had almost forgotten about him. I suppose you’re right, while his skills haven’t exactly aged well, he is certainly capable of such a feat. I feel embarrassed for forgetting about him, him and my father used to be such good drinking buddies too.”
There was a loud clicking noise as the last piece was cleaned and assembled, the finished gun laid on the temple, so clean it looked like it was brand new. As soon as Zecora put in the last piece, she turned around in the stool to face Pinkamena, the teeth on the brown necklace clacking slightly as she did. She laid both her arms horizontally on her legs, her eyes staring at nowhere in particular as she was thinking about something, a stern look on her face that failed to show whatever emotion she was feeling.
“What you are saying is the truth, the first gun I will be creating shall have no use,
These conditions I can agree to, as long as my skills do not come under abuse.”
*That one sounded a bit forced, but ok.*
Fancy was rather pleased, smiling wider than he usually did. “Well done, perhaps you’re better with people than we originally thought. Anyway, what did you come here to talk to us about? Did you find out what it was Igneous withdrawing that money for?”
Zecora stood up and off from the stool, gently grabbing the gun and walking over to the right side of the room with it. This didn’t make sense to her at first, the right side of the room was where weapon parts were. Then she saw that Zecora was walking towards a large box in the wall, something Pinkamena had somehow missed the last time she was here. It looked to be built into the wall, it was brown and had a large slot in it, big enough to fit almost any gun she could think of.
Zecora put the gun she just cleaned and assembled into the slot, and it sucked it in like a ticket machine, it was strange to see. That was probably how guns that were just made, fixed, or cleaned were put back with the rest, it was certainly a better option than manually taking them back.
“I did, but it might just give you more questions than answers.” She said as she turned back to Fancy Pants, hearing Zecora walking back towards them. “He needed help with something and asked Discord for a favor, that money was a f-”
“Oh, if it’s Discord related, then I don’t need to hear it.” He said as he waved his hand dismissively, a slight tone of what Pinkamena thought she recognized as fear. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware that he contributes to The Syndicate more than any other individual. But frankly, he weirds me out at times, and terrifies me at others. He’s fun to drink with, but I think I’d much rather sleep in the middle of the woods covered in meat than get involved in any of his personal business.”
Fancy jumped off the stool, dusting off the legs of his pants and then grabbed both the stool he was sitting on and the stool she was supposed to sit on. He moved them to two other workbenches, placing them in front and leaving them there. Before turning back to face her again, he adjusted his monocle and bowtie, like he was about to go on a date.
“I believe I’ve spent enough time here. I'm going to apologize to Randolph for forgetting about him for so long, I feel absolutely dreadful for not speaking to such a close friend of my father. I’ll bid you ladies adieu, I have new plans to make thanks to today’s endeavors.”
He didn’t say anything else, opening the door and walking out, the last thing Pinkamena saw was him waving at the old man in the booth, who she now knew as Randolph. She turned around to see Zecora standing directly in front of her, a blank expression on her face and her body was deathly still. Her eyes were on Pinkamena’s hair, like Fancy she seemed curious about it, but not enough to ask, she didn’t even pay attention to her red eye. If it wasn’t for the fact that Pinkamena had spent years living with Maud, and that she could still hear her heartbeat even if she weren’t looking at her, that would have startled her.
“I fought The Silent Killer again, and learned something I’d figure you’d wanna know. When I got close to them, the gun sort of...morphed, I guess is the word? Parts of it moved around despite being metallic, some of it even shrank and compressed until it was basically a different gun. I’m not sure if you knew this, but I…”
She stopped talking when she noticed Zecora’s eyes widening, her usual calm demeanor falling for a moment.
“Of course, I should have thought of that.” Zecora muttered under her breath, turning her head to the left as she said it.
*Did she...just talk normally?*
When she talked in rhymes, it was with a normal tone of voice. However, when she briefly spoke normally, she had a bit of an accent. It was a bit African but there was also something else about it she didn’t quite recognize, it wasn’t an accent she’d ever heard before.
“Wait, you do your rhyming...on purpose? Why?”
Zecora’s entire body flinched and tensed up as soon as the question left her mouth, letting Pinkamena know she wasn’t meant to hear that. She likely only heard it thanks to her enhanced hearing, she still needed to figure out exactly what she was capable of with that. Zecora stuttered a bit as she attempted to formulate a response, deciding it was better to not acknowledge the question and turn around. She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her jeans, unfolding it and placing it on the workbench as she sat on the stool, the same stern look coming back onto her face as she began intently concentrating on it.
*Alright, we’re pretending that didn’t happen, ok.*
Pinkamena was about to leave, before stopping herself, remembering there was something else she had wanted to ask. She’d feel a bit awkward asking that now after that little exchange they just had, but it was still something she wanted to know.
“I’m about to leave to talk to Michael, but there’s something I want to ask you. I want to know whose idea it was to have Juno start watching me, but I really don’t feel like trying to make sense of a rhyme. So how about I just say names, and you...nod?”
A few seconds passed which made Pinkamena feel like she hadn’t heard her, but then she saw her give the slightest of nods, not even stopping whatever she was doing on that piece of paper for a moment.
*Good, so, who would make the most sense? Couldn’t have been Discord, he didn’t even seem to know about it until I told him. Fancy Pants told me he was against it from the start, wouldn’t make any sense for him to have suggested it. Starlight supported the idea, but I feel like she would have told me if she were the one who brought it up. Which only leaves two options.*
“Was it you?”
She rather quickly shook her head, as if prepared to make that response. Even as she did, her hands didn’t slow down, she was making motions similar to an artist's painting. She was sure she was either adjusting the blueprint she had before, or making a new one from scratch thanks to the new information she had.
*Then, that means…*
“If not you, then it had to be Michael?”
For a brief moment, her writing stopped, losing her train of thought. Then, she nodded.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
She wasn’t really aware of it until recently, but Pinkamena really hated the smell of hospitals.
She had only been to one once or twice due to childhood injuries, she got all her checkups and such from doctor’s that came to her home, what she now knew was because of the paranoia of The Syndicate. Even so, she would never forget the few times she had been to one.
The smell was the worst, the stench of medicine in the air and just how clean it was always bothered her for some reason, she didn’t really know why. It made her irritated and was a bit hard to concentrate, only made worse by her enhanced sense of smell.
It didn’t help that she associated hospitals with death, and she couldn’t help but associate death with the sisters she couldn’t save.
She was usually preoccupied the previous times, but the infirmary had almost the exact same potent smell. Now that there was nothing she needed to do immediately, she couldn’t ignore it. She really felt like hitting something, and wasn’t exactly in the best mood to have a calm conversation, but she had better self control then to let that get to her.
Instead of Michael being in the infirmary inside of The Syndicate’s own medical bay like he had been when she visited him before, they had apparently decided to move him to a private one. She learned this when she went to the infirmary and couldn’t find him there, Melvin, who was in there frantically reading some book like a college student cramming the night before a test, told her where it was.
It was a bit smaller than a hospital room, and had all the same stuff one did. Pastel white walls and floor, without a single carpet or anything in sight. A bed in the center of the room with one light blue pillow, sheets, and a white blanket. A large IV stand to the left with a heart monitor, and a small tray attached to the bed for food. There was also a small TV built into the wall across from it, which was currently turned off and she couldn’t see where the remote was. There were a few chairs beside the bed, but other than that there was no furniture.
The room didn’t have anything else in it that she could see, other than a door in the back of the room that she presumed was the bathroom. She sort of expected a window, but then she remembered they were underground, and felt a bit stupid for assuming that.
Michael himself was laying completely passed out on the bed, his crutches propped against the bed and his heartbeat was so slow it was almost impossible to detect. He was wearing actual clothes now, but she was sure his body was still wrapped in bandages underneath. He was wearing a large black shirt that was a bit tight against him, the words ‘Tough Guy’ in bright white letters were on the front, whoever gave him his clothes clearly had a sense of humor. He was wearing a soft looking pair of jeans, a large cast on his right leg where she stabbed through his knee, she still distinctly remembered the feeling of shoving her claws through him.
He was, like she expected, still wearing his mask, little puffs of white smoke coming out each time he exhaled. His face actually looked relaxed, peaceful even, not something she associated with Michael. Everything was telling her he was asleep, but she had a distinct gut feeling he was still awake.
She silently walked up to his bed, standing on the left side of the bed where the tray was. She saw he had already eaten, a silver platter on the tray which was empty, an empty cup beside it. The exception was a small bowl, which still had steam coming out of it, so it was made recently. She was a bit curious why he didn’t eat it, so she leaned over to look into the bowl.
“What the fuck?”
It was a bowl of ravioli, it looked professionally made and she could feel her stomach growl at the sight of it. What was startling was that there was a rat in it, a toy rat to be specific. She reached in and pulled it out by the tail, it was covered in pasta sauce and squeaked when she touched it, otherwise the food seemed untouched.
She heard a muffled wheezing sound coming from Michael as he slowly turned his head to face her, his eye opening and then narrowing like he was struggling to make out who he was looking at.
“Did one of the nurses do this as a prank or something?” She asked as she dropped the toy, it made a slight squeaking noise as it sank into the ravioli.
“Yes and no...I got that after I was done eating.... it was supposedly dessert.” His voice sounded a bit less strained than the last time he spoke, he still had to take deep breaths in between speaking. It also sounded like he was in less pain, but it was hard to tell if that was him acting tough or not. “All the nurses left except one...they seemed a bit off...but I didn’t question it too much. They said that someone made something for me...and they gave me that bowl...I was a bit upset when I saw that in there.”
He tried to shift around on the bed to get more comfortable, grunting painfully as just moving too much was agonizing for him. She couldn’t help but grimace a bit out of guilt, even if she was fighting for her life, she went too far. She was lucky she didn’t end up doing any permanent damage, other than adding to his already scar riddled body.
“When I asked who sent me that...they leaned in close to my face...taking off the mask and revealing it was Discord in a nurse costume....looked me straight in the eyes with a shit-eating grin...and asked me ‘Are you sure you didn’t ask for ratviolli?’”
Pinkamena let out a loud snort, putting a hand against her mouth to stop herself from laughing. That was the exact type of pranks she used to do on her friends, a lot of them were food related just like that. Hearing somebody do something like that reminded her of those days, sending a tingle through her heart she hadn’t felt in what felt like forever.
“What...happened after that?” She asked as she slowly lowered her hand, managing to stifle a giggle.
“He ran out giggling like a child that just told a dirty joke...leaving that here after I’d lost my appetite. I’m not sure what horrifies me more...the fact that he went so far to make a pun...or how well he pulled it off.”
Despite his words, she could see his cheeks rise a little, which was likely the closest thing to a smile she’d see from him. She walked around his bed, over to where the chairs were.
“Is Discord usually like that? I know he has a penchant for puns, but even I think it’s a little weird for him to go out of his way to make one.”
“Sort of...there isn’t exactly...a ‘normal’ when it comes to him...but in all the years I’ve known him....he usually only does stuff like that....when he’s bored or going through something...most of the time both.”
Pinkamena immediately thought of when Discord saw her blood, she had always had this mental image of him that he was always calm and knew what he was doing, seeing him suddenly stricken with fear and compose himself like it was nothing made her aware of something. He was terrifyingly good at hiding how he felt, he could be on the edge of a breakdown and no one would know it.
No wonder so many people were scared of him, he was a genius among geniuses and he was impossible to read.
She picked up the chair and placed it beside his bed facing him, sitting down in it and relaxing a bit while she was here. Now that she was closer to him, Michael’s eyes went to her hair, more curiously than surprised. He also saw one of her eyes were a different color too, recognizing it as the same color her eyes changed to when he fought her.
“What’s with your hair and eye? Did you...dye it and put in a contact?”
*I’m a little surprised that other than Discord he’s the first one to actually ask, then again, only him and Starlight would know this is the color it changes to as a chimera.*
“If only. Don’t worry about it, it’s not what I’m here for. I fought The Silent Killer yesterday, and I used the Imperium you gave me.”
“You don’t look very happy about that...I take it something went wrong?”
“The Whispers didn’t like it and stopped me, I only managed to inject half of it and then it dropped and...broke.” *I’m not going to tell him TSK took the rest, I don’t think he could handle getting angry like that right now.* “But you knew something like that would happen, didn’t you?”
She had expected The Whispers to give her a brain aneurysm for talking about them to someone they didn’t give her permission to, but they remained quite outside of their usual constant whispering.
That was either a good sign, or a really really bad one.
Michael took a deep breath, his entire body tensing up, which looked like it was painful for him. She was starting to wonder if he was tough, or if his body was so beat up and broken from the years of fighting that he was just used to pain. He turned his head away from her and looked up to the roof, like he was reminiscing on something.
“I thought they’d have a bad reaction...yeah. You sound like you’ve...got it all figured out already...why don’t you tell me what you think?”
He sounded just as cautious as he was curious, she could see his hand shaking, but she wasn’t sure why. This was one of the things she’d been thinking about for a while, learning the effect Imperium had on The Whispers just felt like the last piece of the puzzle she didn’t know she was missing. If she was wrong, she was wrong and it wasn’t a big deal.
But if she was wrong, there were some serious implications from it.
“This is all based on the fact that you knew Igneous had The Whispers for a bit, if you didn’t...then my whole theory falls apart. I think you knew about it, and you knew how hard it was on him, so you wanted to help. You asked Discord to make a drug under the pretense it was a battle drug, but you made sure it had an effect on the brain too, though it was a gamble whether or not it worked. Luckily it did, for a while he didn’t have to deal with them. Eventually though...it stopped working. More specifically, The Whispers, hating losing control for even the shortest period of time, so they stopped letting him take it.”
Michael let out what she was fairly sure was meant to be a growl, but sounded more like someone trying to scream through a whistle, and just resulted in him having a short coughing fit. She stayed silent as she waited for it to be over, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to see it was a text message from Applejack, saying that she knew she was alive because she left her on read, and was asking if she was ok since she didn’t show up to school.
‘I’m fine, just really busy. I fought TSK again, learned some new stuff, I’ll give you an update later.’
She sent AJ that message and turned off her phone, putting it back in her pocket and hearing Michael was mostly done.
“Everything after this is just guessing and assumptions, but I think you still wanted to help him however you could. You injected the Imperium into yourself to see if you could see The Whispers, it worked, as much as they disliked it. So you kept injecting yourself with it and tried to help him however you could, since I’m guessing you could actually see them and the effect they had, so you did the best you could. You told the others you only used it as a battle drug, worried what might happen if they found out you were doing that to yourself, so you let them think it was because you were addicted. You did actually use it in a battle to help you, but it was always intended to help Igneous.
I’m guessing you stopped sometime after The Whispers left him, or at least slowed down. But the damage was already done, your relationship with Starlight was already ruined because she thought you were addicted and wouldn’t tell her why, and your body was already irreparably damaged. Which is why you didn’t throw much of a fuss when Starlight made Discord stop making it, you kept an emergency dose and knew Discord kept one too, but other than that you stopped entirely.
And that’s...all I’ve got.”
She had expected Michael to laugh at how wrong she was, or as close as he could get before stopping due to the pain. Almost everything she said was just conjecture, it could have been an absolute coincidence that the Imperium cut off The Whispers.
Instead, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing. His hand had stopped shaking and he was still staring at the ceiling, like he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“Pinkamena, I would like to apologize. My previous impression of you was that you weren’t very smart, due to your age and brashness. The fact that you pieced all that together while knowing little more than hearsay is nothing short of impressive, you are more intelligent than I thought, maybe you really are cut out to be a leader.”
Her heart sank at his words, the realization that her postulations were correct was just as surprising as it was shocking. She previously believed that Michael was just an instinctive brute that didn’t think of anything else but fighting, if he did all that, he had much more forethought than she thought he was capable of. It would also explain why The Whispers had been so cautious of him before.
Not only that, but doing everything he did would have meant a lot of dedication. According to everything she’d learned so far, that would have been about the time Igneous' downfall began. Which meant even as he was falling apart and becoming the monster he did, Michael kept helping him with it and stuck with him in unquestioning loyalty.
It reminded her of Rainbow Dash, she couldn’t help but wonder if Rainbow was still alive and saw who she’d become, if she would still call her a friend.
“I’m not smart, I’m just…” Pinkamena shifted in her chair uncomfortably, she had rarely ever been called smart, she didn’t really know how to take it. “Perceptive, I guess? Anyway, so it was all true? You really...sacrificed that much to see The Whispers to try to help him?”
“Yeah, but there’s a bit more to it than that. All that exposure left a sort of after effect, sadly not one that really benefits me.” He slowly turned his head to face her, but even though his eyes were looking in her direction, it’s like they were staring straight through her, at something beyond her. “I can’t see them anymore, but I can sort of just...tell when someone has them, it’s just something I can see.”
The whispering in the back of her head got a bit more frantic, almost fearful, but they didn’t do anything other than that. “What do you see when you look at me? If you can describe it.”
His eyes moved up a bit, peering at the spot just above her head like there was something above her. “I never believed in any of that aura bullshit, but I can’t think of any other word to describe it. It’s like this black energy that comes off every inch of your body, which is a lot more focused around your head. Though it’s...a bit different now, thicker and darker than before. I’m not sure why, but I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that your eye changed color.”
The Whispers calmed down a bit, at least their chattering quieted. She was a bit nervous and surprised, but not all too bothered by it. There were already a few people who knew about them, at this point it didn’t bother her that much, though she was sure The Whispers didn’t feel that way. This also gave her an opportunity to get an answer to a question she’d had for a while, even if it wasn’t a very substantial one.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you then that they like to appear as people, did you see who they appeared as for him?”
“Yeah, the few times I got to before they made sure I wouldn’t anymore. It was usually a little girl, every time I saw her she was wearing something else related to fairy tales. One time though, I…”
He closed his eyes for a moment, in what she guessed was a scowl, but it was hard to tell with most of his face being covered by the mask. “Not too long before he took them in, a really close friend of his died, it...messed him up something awful. I saw them disguise themselves as that once or twice, their way of making sure he couldn’t get over it, I’m sure.”
He relaxed his face a bit and turned away from her again, with a pained grunt, Michael rose from the bed. His body lagged a bit as he forced himself up through the pain, sitting hunched over, his bones moving with a sickening pop like they hadn’t been used in days.
*That’s what I should have expected, I should have known that’s who it was as soon as they showed him to me, probably their way of telling me.”
“I’ve heard, that’s good to know. There’s still something that doesn’t make sense to me: I get not telling her during it, but why didn’t you explain everything to Starlight after The Whispers faded away? You know better than anyone how understanding she is, you might have been able to save your relationship with her, I don’t get it!”
There was more anger in her voice than she intended, she wasn’t even sure why she got so angry all the sudden. Her feelings for Starlight were complicated, but the idea of her getting hurt was...unsettling.
Michael responded with a hollow chuckle, this time not resulting in wheezing or a coughing fit. He raised his right metallic hand, staring at it as he clutched and unclutched it.
“‘It was never addiction, it was commitment’. That’s what I wanted to tell her...to try to sound cool. I can’t tell you how many times.... I thought about what to say and how to say it, the thing stopping me for so long was the guilt. I wanted to help Igneous…. we weren’t exactly friends, little more than rivals. But he’d done me a lot of favors, and I…. hated watching him go through that, so I tried to help however I could.
After I couldn’t help him, I had to watch as he….changed into what he did, which just made the guilt worse. I couldn’t....help him or stop him….and I couldn’t help but feel like I….could have done something to help. If I told her, even if….. she’d never say it, some part of her would blame me, I just know it. By the time I finally built up…. the courage to try to tell her, it was too late. Igneous….was too far gone, Starlight had given up on me….and saying what happened would have only made things worse….I truly hadn’t intended you to find out….I simply wanted to see what you would do. But now that you know, I beg you….don’t tell her….I’ve caused her enough pain.”
She saw something wet in the corner of his left eye, but he blinked and it was gone in an instant. She couldn’t say she sympathized with him, but she understood. There were friends she had that made her feel the same way. So many times she felt she could have helped Sunset, but she never tried, and she just ended up turning into a demon. She also felt she could have done something to prevent what happened to Twilight, maybe even stopped her from being consumed by magic like that.
If she had actually done everything she could to help both of them, and things had turned out for the worse, the guilt would crush her.
“I...understand, I won’t. You should tell her, she deserves the truth, you aren’t getting any younger after all.”
She saw his cheeks rise slightly as he smiled again, that sad expression on his face disappearing. “How old do you think I am? I’m only….thirty five you know? I just look like this….because of the Imperium….I’ve still got life in me.”
“If that’s true, then I think it’s safe to say I won’t be taking anymore. I don’t want to look like I’m about to keel over when I’m in my thirties like you.”
*Awfully bold of me to expect to survive to my twenties.*
Ignoring her own morbid thoughts, she stood up out of the chair, placing her arms in front of her and preparing to put her hands in her hoodie pockets. Then she felt incredibly awkward when she remembered she wasn’t wearing one, but also a little proud that she hadn’t felt as vulnerable as before. She quickly put her hands in her jean pockets, hoping Michael hadn’t noticed.
“I should be going soon, I have things I need to do. Before I go though, I want to ask, why did you suggest putting Juno on me in the first place?”
“Because,” Michael lowered his hand into the right pocket of his pants, moving it around as he tried to find something in it. “I had a feeling….The Silent Killer was going to be a bit more than you could….handle, at least right now. Also to keep tabs on you….you’re more than a little reckless….so you had us paranoid. But I feel….in the past few days you’ve matured….and I’m more confident you can handle things now.”
“That’s...a bit more rational than I was expecting, but I still don’t like it. After everything with TSK, I expect him to be off my ass. The only one who I haven’t done a favor for yet is Zecora, and I can do that at the same time.”
Pinkamena pulled out her right hand and grabbed the chair with it, carrying it with her as she walked to the door. She placed it beside the other chair, her ears perking up a bit when she heard Michael’s heart rate pick up.
“Wait.”
She turned around to face him, catching sight of his hand steadily pulling something out of his pocket, she wasn’t able to make out what it was.
“You smoke….right?”
Her right eyebrows raised slowly as she processed that question, her eyes narrowing as she looked back at him cautiously. “....Yeah? If this is supposed to be some kind of l-”
With speed she wasn’t expecting, he threw the object at her, she caught it with her right hand in front of her face. It was a small ziplock bag, the kind she used to carry her snacks around in school. Though instead of rice cakes and twinkies, there were small, green, flaky plant-like things, they looked like seeds of some sort. There were a dozen of them or so stacked on top of each other in the bag.
She recognized almost immediately what they were, she’d experimented with it a couple of times at some of her parties.
“Is this...weed?”
Michael nodded as she lowered himself back down on the best, a bit less painfully this time.
“Sure is, another gift….Discord gave me when he was dressed as a nurse. Guess he figured….I’d like to have something to do in here.”
“Wait, you can smoke? How does that work with your mask?” She asked as she lowered her hand, putting the bag of marijuana in her empty back pocket.
“I have….a slot on the front of my mask….It’s how I eat. I haven’t smoked in….five months or so. I don’t want it….right now, instead….I want you to smoke it with Zecora. She’s been….really upset since Igneous died, but she doesn’t like….talking about her problems. She prefers to….bury herself in her work, she’s been going nonstop….on that custom gun she’s been working on for two days. The only way….I know of to get her to relax and talk….is when she’s high out of….her mind. It’s not exactly….a good choice, but it’s all I can think of. Do that before you leave….if you have time.”
She could tell his breathing was starting to get heavier, almost agonizingly so. She didn’t know the state his body was in, but talking as much as was evidently was stressful on him. He probably would love nothing more than to be asleep, only staying awake for her.
“Not what I was expecting to do today, but I won’t say no. I’ll find something to roll it with, there’s someone I need to talk to first. You go ahead and go back to sleep now, I’m the one that put you in that bed, I don’t want to be the one who keeps you in there too.”
She wasn’t expecting him to respond, she could see his eyes close like his eyelids were dumbbells. His heart rate slowed down and all the tension in his body went away as he relaxed, that peaceful expression he had on his face when she came in returning, she was almost jealous.
“When you talk to her…” She barely managed to hear him murmur as she opened the door. “Make sure to be honest, while you still can.”
She nodded as she walked out, there wasn’t much left to say.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
She had been standing in front of Starlight’s for at least five minutes.
She knew she was in there, she could hear her heartbeat. Every heartbeat had its own rhythm that was unique to them, Starlight’s was unlike any other, it was light and gentle like the sounds of a piano. If she concentrated enough, she could even hear her fingers hitting the keyboard, sitting comfortably behind her desk.
There were a lot of things she wanted to talk to Starlight about, good and bad. She needed her help dealing with the aftermath of Blake, but she also needed her to stop pitying her, she hated being treated like a charity case. She’d been trying to think of what to say, but she never came up with anything she liked. Ever since she’d left the shower, there was a knot in her chest she couldn’t quite shake. It got worse as she talked to the others to an almost unbearable extent, she was familiar with the feeling, it was the feeling that she got when she knew there were things she needed to talk about. It would only get worse the longer she pushed it off.
She decided the best way was to just go with it and improvise, the same way she’d been doing most things thus far.
She raised her hand to knock on the door, not noticing when her hand had started shaking. Her entire right arm felt tense as she lightly tapped against it, hearing Starlight’s fingers stop typing and stood up from the desk. Pinkamena put her hands back in her pockets, unable to stop her trembling. How long had it been since she was this nervous about something?
Starlight opened the door, wearing the same clothes she usually did. Pinkamena couldn’t help but smell the shampoo she recently used, it was a bit strong and let her know she had recently taken a shower. She even looked clean, not a single blemish of any kind on her skin or a hair out of place, Rarity would be impressed.
She couldn’t help but feel like she was being creepy by taking note of all these, but she always paid attention to stuff like that, the fact that her senses had been sharpened just made it harder not to.
“Pinkie? What happened? You look...different, did you do something with your hair?” Starlight asked jokingly, her eyes examining her hair for a moment, then slowly moving down the rest of her body, seeing if there were any other distinct changes.
Pinkamena couldn’t help but flinch at being called that, not doing a very good job of hiding it from her. She lowered her head a bit so her hair covered most of her face, the knot in her chest getting tighter with each breath she took.
“Oh no, Pinkie?” Starlight asked frantically, walking forward and trying to place a hand on her as her eyes shot up. Pinkamena responded by jumping back a bit right before, shaking her head back and forth to tell her she didn’t want to be touched.
Her throat felt dry and her heart was about out of her chest, she drew a breath as she tried to speak, but she couldn’t bring the words past her throat. She could feel the start of The Whispers trying to numb her, the cold spreading from the back of her mind. She pushed it back, she didn’t need it.
“Can we...talk?”
Therapy Session #3
Author's Notes:
Hello! Sorry this took so long to write out, college has been pretty busy! For those of you who are unaware, these therapy session chapters take place in between/after other chapters, and are mainly meant to develop Pinkamena's character and her situation with Starlight. These aren't necessary to read, but I do still recommend doing so.
Thanks for reading, tell me if you see any grammar or story issues, feel free to put your thoughts in the comments, and enjoy!
“O-of course, come on in!” Starlight said as she opened the door the rest of the way, gesturing Pinkamena to enter. “I...wasn’t expecting you to come by today, but I should have time.”
Pinkamena pushed past Starlight, trying her best to keep her face behind her hair and not make eye contact. She heard Starlight draw her breath like she wanted to say something, moving her arm towards her to touch her, before stopping herself and retracting her arm. As soon as Pinkamena was inside Starlight shut the door behind them, making sure it was locked.
The room was exactly the same as when she was in there before, with the colored walls and black bean bags on the floor. She noticed the one she had sat in before looked cleaner than the others, remembering that she had bled on it last time. She walked over to it, sitting down and feeling her body slowly sink into it like a bowl pushed underwater. She let out a relieved sigh as she felt the tension ebb out of her body, she had forgotten how relaxing bean bags were.
Starlight walked behind her desk and began typing something on her laptop, glancing at Pinkamena every now and again out of concern. It was obvious she was worried about her and wanted to ask what was wrong, but she could also tell she was fragile at the moment and pushing too hard would be bad.
“And...done! I don’t know why Discord wanted me to write this fake acceptance letter, but even I know better than to question his motives.” Starlight said to herself as she turned it off, reaching into her vest pocket and pulled out her dark blue journal.
She walked back around her desk, plopping down into the beanbag across from her and flipping open the journal and pulling out a pencil that was still in it. She kept turning pages until she got to a blank one, writing something at the top of it and then twirling the pencil between her fingers. She raised her head to look at Pinkamena, putting on a forced smile to try to reassure her.
“How are you doing? I haven’t talked to you since yesterday, I wanted to text you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d respond or not.”
“I’m...fine.” Pinkamena whispered in a shaky tone, bringing her hands to the lapels of her leather jacket. Her hands were still shaking and there was still a knot in her chest. “Actually, that’s a lie. I’m not fine...at all, that’s why I’m here.”
She really didn’t want to take the leather jacket off, not having her hoodie on was hard enough. Right now she was likely at her most vulnerable she had been since she was on Blake’s table, the fact that she was on the edge of a panic attack and was overwrought with a plethora of emotions didn’t help.
But she needed to be vulnerable to get better, and out of everyone in her life right now, Starlight had the best chance at being able to do that, and was one of the few people she trusted.
She slowly slid off the jacket, and though she was taking something off of her, she felt the action somehow added weight to her mentality. She laid it on the ground beside her, leaving only the white t-shirt on her upper body, not counting the bra underneath.
She was a bit sweaty, more from anxiety than actual heat, but other than that she was fine, the t-shirt was thick enough to where it wasn’t see through. She couldn’t help but look at her arms, since the shirt was sleeveless, it went up to her shoulder. Her arms weren’t too thin or too big, her muscles were well toned and leaned, a benefit from both her time in the woods and from being a chimera.
She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her hands against them like she was trying to warm herself up, her eyes running up and down them as if she were looking for something. Her skin was smooth and flawless, not a bump out of place, but they had once been riddled with scars. Cuts, gashes, bruises, all kinds of various contusions and injuries, both Blakes way of marking her as his property, and signs of all the ‘fun’ he had with her.
If she looked closed enough, she could almost still see them even though they weren’t there. Some part of her missed them, she didn’t need Starlight to tell her that was bad.
She tore her gaze away from her arms and shook her head, stopping herself from thinking about Blake before she got too deep. She lowered her hands and put them between her thighs to try to warm them up, she felt cold all the sudden.
Starlight had a strange look in her eyes, her smile gone and her eyes looking at Pinkamena’s arms, her mouth slightly agape and she had stopped twirling the pencil between her fingers. It was hard to tell why, her eyes moving up and down like she was analyzing her. She was...impressed? Jealous? It was hard to tell what emotion she was feeling, something about her expression reminded her of some of the boys she used to mess around with.
“Starlight?”
That question snapped her out of her trance, her eyes going from her arm to her eyes, a slight red hue on her face like she’d been caught looking at something she shouldn’t have.
“Oh, sorry! I got...distracted by something. I noticed that you weren’t wearing a hoodie like you usually do, did you go through your whole day so far without it?” Starlight asked nervously as she fidgeted in the beanbag, putting her right leg on top of her left one, but not looking very comfortable.
“Yeah, I...did. I want to get better, I have to move past Blake. I won’t lie to you, it was hard! I was beyond vulnerable, every time someone looked at me I felt like I was on that table again. But I…” Pinkamena subconsciously grabbed the pendant of her necklace, which the chain of the necklace was now visible since she wasn’t wearing the leather jacket. She visibly calmed down as soon as she grabbed it through her shirt, her shaking less noticeable as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I endured, I had to, I couldn’t let Blake get to me. After all that bastard did, he doesn’t get to hurt me like this, I won’t let him!” Pinkamena growled as she opened her eyes, scowling as she pictured his smug face
“And... how do you feel without your jacket?” Starlight asked cautiously, a little worried about the sudden aggression, though it was a better reaction than total fear.
Her face relaxed a bit, her grip on the necklace still tight. “I feel...not as bad as I thought I’d be, I’m sure it’d be worse if I were with anyone else but you. When I came here it was hard for me to breath and concentrate, I honestly felt I was moments away from a breakdown. However, since I’m just here alone with you, it isn’t that bad, I can get used to it.”
Pinkamena smiled a bit as she let go of the necklace, letting her hand rest on her leg while the other was still between her thighs. She was still shaken up, but the pain in her chest and fear in her heart were fading, she was steadily getting better.
“That’s great, Pinkie!” Starlight’s smile faltered for a moment when she saw her flinch, though she wasn’t sure why. “But don’t push yourself too far, you’re already making progress faster than most have, there’s no rush!”
“Maybe not, but I…” Her words hitched in her throat, she found it hard to put into words of what happened a few hours ago. “Before I went to talk with everyone, I wanted to take a shower, since it had been awhile. While I was in there, I…” Pinkamena clammed up, suddenly finding it hard to talk.
Starlight listened intently, nervously tapping the pencil against the journal in worry. “I know it’s hard, but I need you to tell me everything you can. I need to know every detail, otherwise I can’t tell where you are and I can’t help you.”
Pinkamena knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier. She absolutely abhorred that fact that she couldn’t even take a shower without being riddled with terror, the fact that it was because of Blake just made it worse.
“I was fine when I took off my clothes, being naked alone isn’t a problem. It wasn’t until I started cleaning myself that I…” She felt a cold chill down her spine, hanging her head so her long pink and black hair covered most of her face.
“It’s ok, take your time.” Starlight whispered gently, writing something in her journal.
Pinkamena could hear her voice, but it sounded like a distant echo. Her mind was focused on when she was in the shower, unable to stop herself from thinking of her time strapped to the table. The cold metal against her naked body, the only thing she could feel was the agonizing pain, her ears filled with his laughter and her own screams.
‘Do you even realize you’re screaming? I’m so glad you’re enjoying all the fun.’ His words echoed in her mind like a song she couldn’t get out of her head, she’d never be able to forget his smile.
No more distractions, no more suppressing it, she couldn’t push it down anymore, she needed to deal with it. She needed to move past it, to move past him!
“I got inside and started washing myself, but as soon as I touched myself I...it was like he was there touching me!” Pinkamena whimpered as she brought her hands up to the sides of her head, her nails digging into her skin, hoping the pain will stop the flashbacks. “As soon as I closed my eyes it felt like I was on that table again, no matter how hot the water on my back was, it was still so cold! Every time I closed my eyes and saw that darkness it was like I was in that room again, I could almost feel him touching me again, his disgusting hands all over me like I was a fucking toy!”
She dug her nails deeper into her head, feeling the heat from steam coming from the wounds as they healed, small bits of blood running down her fingers. Her eyes were squinted and burning with tears, doing her best to prevent them from trailing down her face, the urge to sob was nearly impossible to resist. When she spoke she was on the edge of just giving in, but she couldn’t, not here, not now.
“Whenever anyone touches me, I can hear him in my head, telling me that I’m his! That only he can touch me like that, that I’m nothing more than his property! To use however he feels like, to hurt me however he feels like! He...I…”
She couldn’t suppress a groan as she grinded her teeth, hot tears rolling down her face, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. As soon as her eyes were closed and darkness enclosed her vision, the world around her began to fade, making it hard to concentrate on anything but it. The sound of writing from Starlight was distant, she could hear her voice, but couldn’t tell what she was saying. The pain in her head was almost unnoticeable, she began to feel less like she was in Starlight’s office and more like she was back on that table. Almost like she’d never left, she was finding it hard to open her eyes.
She had to speak, the silence was destroying her, she felt overwhelming dread and irrational fear that she was going to hear Blake’s voice whispering in her ears.
“I-I...can never have sex again without thinking of him! My scars are gone, but every time I’m naked and I see my body, it’s almost like I can still feel them there! And I don’t think...I can ever forget the feeling of him forcing himself inside me, no amount of cleaning will wash away how dirty I feel! I..I can’t...he…”
She found herself unable to speak anymore, her chest had become unbearably tight as she started hyperventilating. Her breathing was irregular, more similar to erratic wheezing. Her heart was briskly beating, but she couldn’t hear it, she couldn’t hear anything! Her eyes were heavy and she didn’t feel like she could open them, she couldn’t even feel the pain in her head anymore, her entire body was growing colder by the second.
She was overwhelmed by despair, her mouth was open but she didn’t know if she was making any noise, it was like she completely lost control of her body and was being consumed by her own anguish and emotions.
Just as the blackness threatened to consume her and push her into unconsciousness, she felt something warm and soft press against both sides of her face. As soon as the contact was made, all of her senses came rushing back to her, she could feel the warmth of her own body and her heart beat. Other than that and her own breathing, which had calmed down a bit, there was no other sound in the room.
She pulled her hands out of her head and grabbed whatever was touching her face like they were her salvation, wrapping her hands around them gently. They were warm, soft, and smooth, and they were hand shaped.
No, they weren’t hand shaped, they were hands.
She opened her eyes, finding they were no longer so difficult to open, and slowly raised her head. Her face was still a bit wet from the tears, but she had stopped crying. Her head still had almost unnoticeable bits of steam from the stab wounds she made, but she was focused entirely on what was in front of her.
Starlight was leaned forward in her bean bag chair, her journal and pencil in her lap and her arms reached forward, her hands holding onto Pinkamena’s face and gently running her thumbs across them. Her face was inches away and her eyes narrowed and a small smirk on her face, like she was trying to analyze her and reassure her at the same time.
“What do you feel right now?”
Her words were so soft and kind it reminded her of Fluttershy for a moment, Pinkamena’s ears flickered when she heard them. It wasn’t distant like a few moments ago, they were clear and were incredibly pleasant compared to the deafening silence she could only hear just moments ago.
“...Warm, and calm, all my anxiety and fear is just...fading away.”
Pinkamena’s words were barely more than a whisper, unable to tear her eyes away from Starlight’s. She couldn’t even think, all thoughts of Blake and the table vanquished, the dread and despair being replaced by a strong tingling sensation that reverberated throughout her entire body. She could only concentrate on Starlight and her hands, and how much she didn’t want to let go of them.
“Who’s hands do you feel touching you right now? Mine? Or Blake’s?”
She remained silent as she thought on Starlight’s words, running her fingers across Starlight’s knuckles. Her hands were nothing like his, they were so small and feminine, her grip gentle like she was holding a baby. To compare her hands and her touch to Blake would be an insult to Starlight, and a compliment to Blake he didn’t deserve.
“....Yours, just yours.” Pinkamena murmured, more confident than before and unable to stop herself from grinning, she didn’t know why.
“He will never touch you again, he will never hurt you again, I swear that on my life. That month you went through was worse than almost anyone could even survive, but you’re still here and you still want to get better. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to every victim he’s ever had to push through this, you’re strong enough. And even if you weren’t, you have me, I will be here every step of the way if you need it.
I won’t leave you, I promise.”
Her words were like a wake up call, a light that shined and pushed away the remnants of darkness. She let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, sobbing one last time, but this one out of relief.
“Thank you Starlight, that...means a lot.”
Starlight nodded and stopped rubbing her thumbs sensually against her face, her eyes widening a bit as she realized how intimate they were in that moment. She hadn’t been that close with anyone since Michael! Starlight pulled her hands out of Pinkamena’s grip to her chest, fumbling a bit as she found it hard to speak, her cheeks tainted with the slightest blush.
“I’m...sorry that I touched you like that all the sudden, I just thought that maybe showing you something gentle would snap you out of it and help you see not everyone’s touch is his. If it bothers you, I won’t do it again!”
Pinkamena chuckled, Starlight’s reaction was a little out of character, but cute in its own way. She’d seen for herself that Starlight knew how to use sex appeal when she needed to, but when it came to actual contact like what just happened, she was less confident. It didn’t bother Pinkamena at all, things like that weren’t an issue for her before everything, certainly not now.
However she couldn’t ignore the slight fluttering feeling she got in her chest seeing her like that, something she was only a little familiar with.
“It’s ok Starlight, I’m...kind of glad you did, I’m not sure what would have happened. Besides, I…” She hesitated as she wiped the tears off her face, staring at the blood spots on the tip of her fingers. “Trust you, probably more than anyone else other than Maud in my life right now, and that’s saying a lot coming from me. Even if I question your motives, you haven’t done anything to intentionally hurt me yet.”
Starlight furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth agape as she was about to ask about what she said, but decided against it and shut her mouth. She composed herself a bit, grabbing her journal and writing something in it, her eyes trained on Pinkamena.
“You should trust more people, like Applejack...or Discord. Well, maybe not Discord. He’s been…” Her gaze drifted to the side for a moment. “Weird lately, weirder than usual. You can’t survive not trusting people Pinkie, it will kill you, that’s how Igneous was in the end. Don’t get me wrong, I’m elated you trust me, but it needs to be more than me. If not your friends from before, then at least the members of The Council. Fancy Pants can get along with anyone and is probably the most pleasant high class person I’ve ever met, Zecora is...in a bad place right now, but she really does only have good intentions. Discord is...Discord, he’s an oddball, but I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you or The Syndicate. And Michael…”
Pinkamena saw a rare flash of anger as she said his name, like the very name brought up memories she didn’t like. Her grip on the pencil tightened as she momentarily stopped writing, biting the corner of her lips with a choleric frown, furrowing her eyebrows resentfully.
“Stubborn, and stupid at times. I feel guilty for not seeing what Michael was going to do to you, I should have and been able to prevent it, I’m sorry. However, I can assure you he won’t do it again, I’m going to be talking to him while he’s doing his physical therapy. I can’t ask you to trust him after that, at least try to get along with him.”
Pinkamena was about to mention that she had already forgiven Michael after he had told her the reason he did that, but if she did, she’d have to elaborate on more of the things they had talked about. To Pinkamena, it didn’t seem like Starlight hated him, instead she felt hurt and betrayed by how their relationship ended. A tinge of guilt struck her heart as she resisted the urge to tell her what Michael did, she couldn’t do that. She promised him she wouldn’t, and her word is one of the few things she has left.
“Do you...still have feelings for Michael?” She asked hesitantly, putting her hands behind her back and lacing them together apprehensively.
Starlight flinched at the sudden question, her eyes half closing as she glanced away, the corners of her lips pulling down to a frown.
“I...it’s complicated, I’ve been asking myself that same question. Do I really miss him, or do I just miss being in a relationship and being loved? It’s funny, I’m good at analyzing the problems of other people, but I’m helpless when it comes to helping myself.”
Starlight gave out a hollow chuckle as her gaze dropped to the pencil in her hand, twirling it in her fingers absentmindedly.
“We were never in love with each other, we barely dated for more than a few months. I still have feelings for the man he was when we dated, not the man he is now. I want to be in a relationship again, but like I’ve said, it’s hard to have a social life. Besides, I’m hard to be in a relationship with. Always being able to read someone can get on their nerves, it certainly got on Michael’s.”
Her pain was etched on her face, she had a forced smile and her words sounded almost shameful. It hurt Pinkamena a bit to hear, especially considering she knew the truth. Michael was lying to her and doing what he did to help Igneous, and he couldn’t tell her because of his fear that she’d blame him for it.
Pinkamena didn’t know the extent of Starlight and Igneous' relationship, she had a feeling it was better that she didn’t, but she couldn’t say whether Starlight would blame him or not. It was times like this she sort of wished she was the old Pinkie, then she would know how to console her.
“I...Starlight I’m the last person to be giving relationship advice, I’ve never even been in a real relationship, I don’t know the first thing about romance. But you’re…” She stuttered a bit, trying to find the right words to say. “You’re a great person Starlight, a lot better than me. You’re nice, and smarter than most people I’ve ever known. Not to mention you’re beautiful, you try to look good and it really shows. You have the patience to put up with someone like me, and…”
She brought her hand up to her chest, everything she was saying was true, so why did it make her heart feel so tight to say it?
“I don’t think you should beat yourself up because of him, it was just the wrong time. You deserve someone who can make you happy, it just wasn’t Michael.” She glowered her eyes so she wasn’t looking at her, she was never that good at giving compliments, trying with Starlight made her ears feel hot.
Starlight’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Pinkamena’s voice, her eyebrows arching and eyes wide open as she slowly raised her head, her jaw dropping slightly as she struggled to respond.
“I’m...thank you, no one’s complimented me on my looks in...awhile. I don’t really try to look good, I just...am a bit of a germaphobe.” Starlight brought her left hand to her hair and twirled it nervously. “Compared to someone like Rarity or Fluttershy, I don’t really think of myself as particularly pretty. I don’t think very highly of myself, but I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. If only I could do the same for you as easily…”
There was a solemn tone in her voice as she took a deep breath, momentarily closing her eyes to compose herself. She opened her eyes and turned to look at Pinkamena again, writing something in her journal without batting an eye.
“We’ve gotten enough off topic, we’re here to talk about you, not me. About how you’ve been feeling about Blake, that’s normal, good, even. It shows that you still hate him and haven’t become obsessed, most by this point start being thankful for some of the things he did. The panic attacks are...terrible, but it could be a lot worse. It’d be bad if you risked one every time you wanted to bathe yourself, but what exactly can you do to prevent it?”
Starlight tapped the eraser against her chin thoughtfully, humming almost too quietly to herself to hear. “Have you ever heard of a calming ritual?”
“Calming ritual? You mean that thing athletes do? Does that actually work?” Pinkamena asked skeptically, lowering her hand back to lay on her thigh.
“Oh yes! It’s simple classic conditioning, just the kind you do on yourself. I don’t usually recommend it because it’s too easy to become dependent on it, but I guess until I can think of something else, it’ll have to do for now. It also isn’t a permanent solution nor a very effective one, but it’s better than what The Whispers have been doing.”
There was a tone of spite in her voice as she let out a little huff, trying to hide it with a cough as she quickly smiled.
“Anyway, It’s really not complicated at all. Do you have anything you do that makes you feel relaxed? Or calms you down at least? Like...a gesture you make? A certain spot you touch? Anything like that works.”
Pinkamena remained silent as she tried to think of anything like that in recent memory, closing her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows thoughtfully. ‘Relaxed’ wasn’t exactly a commodity for her recently, she rarely was able to sleep unless she was forced into unconsciousness, there were at least half a dozen things on her mind at any given time and it was borderline impossible to go a few hours without her life being in danger or having to unravel some mystery.
There was one thing she had that kept her grounded however, other than The Whispers that is. She slowly brought her left hand up to the necklace, gently grasping it and holding the pendant in the palm of her hand. “This,” She mumbled as she half opened her eyes, not moving her head at all to look at Starlight. “Is a reminder. Whenever I’m about to lose myself, this reminds me of who I am and what I’ve lost. It keeps me from going over the edge, most of the time. I don’t know if relaxed is the right word, but it does calm me down.”
Starlight grimaced at Pinkamena’s somber words, the way she desperately clung to the necklace like a young child holding on to their parent’s hand hurt her to see. She wanted to talk about that necklace, she knew it belonged to her deceased sisters, and when she grabbed her hand when Starlight tried to touch it, just confirmed how valuable it was to her. But she couldn’t, not during this session. This session was about helping her get past Blake before it was too late, everything else could wait.
“That’s perfect! You won’t need the actual necklace to do it either, just making the gesture of grabbing it and pretending it’s there should get the desired effect, it’ll take a bit of practice. It might take a few days or so, but it’ll work. Basically, anytime you feel relieved, relaxed, calm, or any sense of peace, you grab the necklace just like you are, or make the gesture you would if you don’t have it, like so.”
Starlight mimicked Pinkamena perfectly, bringing her left hand to just below her neck and clenching her fist like she was grabbing something.
“Easy, right? You’ll have it down in no time, you’re a pretty quick learner. Though, like I said before, I try to avoid teaching anyone how to do it because it’s incredibly easy to become dependent on it. Don’t do it too often if you can help it, only if you’re on the absolute edge of a panic attack. And....I don’t know if The Whispers will listen to you, but try to convince them to hold off on numbing your emotions as a last resort. It’s bad, and while I understand the benefits, I still strongly believe it should be an absolute last resort.”
“Way ahead of you, we’ve come to an...agreement, you could say. I’ll make sure to give it a try, but I don’t actually think I’ll be getting a lot of chances to relax. There’s actually something I wanted to ask you about.”
Pinkamena let go of the necklace, her hand going behind her back and down to her pockets. A shiver went down her spine when her fingers scrapped against the mask, suppressing a gasp as she pulled it out. Starlight’s look of curiosity quickly shifted to disgust when she saw it.
She held it out in front of her, her left hand gripping it by the bottom. She couldn’t take her eyes off it, and she had a disturbing urge to put it on. “You told me you had a few ideas of why I chose to wear Blake’s mask, I want to hear them.”
Starlight also couldn’t take her eyes off the mask, though it was surely for an entirely different reason than Pinkamena. She suddenly tore her gaze away from it like it was repulsive for her to look at, her face tightening as she clenched her jaw.
“You aren’t going to like it.” She mumbled darkly
“There’s a lot of things I don’t like, add it to the list.”
Starlight exasperatedly sighed as she put the pencil in the center of the journal. “‘Give someone a mask, and they become their true selves’. That’s how the saying goes, at least. I hate to admit it, but there’s a lot of truth to it. I get why you need to wear a mask, until you graduate it’s better if your identity stays hidden.
However, I think you like it. When you wear that mask, you don’t have to be Pinkamena Diane Pie anymore, or anyone at all. You can do what you want, however you want to. No expectations, no judgment, no one watching. You can let loose, let your bloodlust take over with nothing holding you back, just like when you fought Michael.”
Pinkamena didn’t respond, her leer transfixed on the mask, more because she didn’t want to look at Starlight than she wanted to look at the mask. She didn’t bother trying to defend herself either, anything she would say would just come out as desperate, because she knew Starlight was right.
“But that’s a topic for another time, and it isn’t what you asked me. I’ve been thinking about it since I found it on you, it’s been nagging at me. I’ve...narrowed it down to one explanation that’s the most likely, but it’s entirely just conjecture and is as likely to be wrong as it is to be right. But…” She shrugged her shoulders. “You still want to hear it, right?”
Pinkamena curtly nodded, placing the mask back into her back pocket. Starlight hung her head low, similar to a child when they did something bad and were confronted about it. She was tapping the tip of the pencil against the paper and her usually pleasant to listen to heartbeat was beating nervously.
“You’re self-destructive: We’ve established this. You feel immense guilt about what happened to your sisters, even though there wasn’t really anything you could do to save them. After I made you aware of it, you regret killing all those men. You want to die because the guilt is too much, but you can’t kill yourself directly. However...it goes deeper than just guilt.”
She slowly raised her head, almost like she was afraid to make eye contact. Her entire body was tense and it was hard to tell why, her hands had become disturbingly steady and a pregnant silence filled the room, no other sound in the room.
There was a distinct sadness in her eyes when they became visible, her face was as tense as the rest of her body, slight wrinkles on her forehead that almost didn’t look natural. There was no anger, no disappointment, just...sadness, it’s the same look she’d seen so many people give to stray dogs on the streets.
She recognized it instantly, it was pity, she was pitying her.
Pinkamena immediately broke eye contact, the burning inferno of anger being sparked inside her. She avoided looking at her, her hands trembling as she clenched them. She hated being pitied, for anything. It didn’t happen often, but when someone was treating her like there was something wrong with her, or looked at her like a stray dog, it just irked her in ways words couldn’t properly describe.
Maybe it was because that’s how her ‘mother’ would always look at her and her sisters, or maybe it was some other deep rooted problem, she didn’t really care. She hated being pitied, anyone who behaved differently around her out of pity she found hard to take seriously.
“I can see it in your eyes, even when you smile, you severely hate yourself. I still can’t tell whether you hated yourself before all this, or if it stems from your guilt and your actions, but I know you do. I’m not saying you want to get better, the fact that you’re here shows you’re trying. However, at the same time some part of you doesn’t think you deserve to get better, preferring pain and suffering almost to a masochistic extent.
You don’t think you’re worth the effort of saving, that’s at least part of why you’re so reluctant to open up to people. You know you’re self-loathing is a big part of your desire for death, you don’t want people to care about you because you know there’s a very real possibility you’ll die soon. Not just that, but you don’t think you deserve for anyone to care about you, that you need to be alone and aren’t worth anyone caring about. But I...don’t agree with that, I care about you, and I know there are others that do too.”
Starlight reached forward and touched Pinkamena’s hand, but as soon as she made contact Pinkamena pulled it back and held it close to her chest like a wounded animal. The only part of her face that was visible was her mouth, only her front teeth could be seen in a mock snarl.
Starlight wasn’t overly surprised by the reaction, very few people liked being told the things they’d been purposely avoiding confronting. She rested her hands on top of each other, taking a breath as she prepared to say more. She didn’t like making people angry or upset, but it was the best way to get them to start being honest.
“That’s how a lot of them started, you know. Your circumstances are incredibly unique, but that doesn’t change much. They began hating themselves, thinking they were worth less than nothing. Many were suicidal, but I kept them on watch. The time varies, but usually a few months after getting tortured they began...changing how they thought about those times, looking back on them almost nostalgically. Soon, they were missing the time with him, like it was the best times of their lives.
The less they valued themselves, the more fondly they thought of their time with him. They yearned to be with him once again, to be taken care of and loved again, seeing the way he treated them as his form of ‘love’. Their self deprecating mind set had burrowed itself so deeply inside them that they adopted the same mindset about themselves Blake had, that they were nothing more than objects that belonged to him, to be used however he wanted, the worst kind of self-fulfilling prophecy I’ve ever seen. And they were happy like that, because they’d come to hate themselves so much, they thought it’s what they deserved.”
She was watching Pinkamena cautiously, paying attention to her body language since she couldn’t see her face. Pinkamena’s entire body coiled, one hand on her leg and the other on her chest, both of them trembling and tightly clenched. Starlight could tell she was angry, but also filled with despair, she knew what Starlight was saying was the truth. Even though Pinkamena refused to look at her and kept most of her face hidden beneath her hair, by the way she flinched at some words, it was clear she was intently listening.
“That’s why you chose to wear his mask, similar to a Freudian Slip. When you made that decision you thought that you were done with him, but subconsciously things were left unsettled. When you wear that mask, you are constantly reminding yourself of what he did to you, and how it changed you. Some part of you misses being on his table, being at his mercy, like it’s some kind of punishment you deserve! Yes, you hate him. Yes, what he did to you traumatized you in ways you’ll never be able to fully get over.
However, at the same time, the overwhelming guilt and the burden of your self-hatred have been eating away at you. You have to stop hating yourself and stop letting your guilt weigh you down, you know better now, you won’t make the same mistakes again. You learned, I..don’t like seeing you do this to yourself.”
There was an almost desperate tone in her voice, she couldn’t tell whether Pinkamena noticed it or not. It was more than just her hands that were shaking now, it was most of her body. She couldn’t tell why, but Starlight felt a strong need to comfort her. Right now she was angry, frustrated, and probably beyond distressed. All these things were surely something she’d thought about once or twice, but to be confronted about it when she’d been trying to distract herself like with many other things, all the emotions associated with those thoughts became impossible to push down.
“Pinkie, pl-”
“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”
Without even a diminutive warning, Pinkamena suddenly stood up, her legs just barely grazing Starlight’s. Her breathing was heavy and erratic, her long hair hung off the sides of her head like curtains, the expression on her face now visible. Her pupils were constricted in a strained scowl, mouth slightly open as she sharply drew breath with each rise and fall of her chest. Her left hand was tightly clenched at her side, her black blood dripping down her fingers. While her right was gripping her shirt where her heart would be, similar to when someone was having a heart attack.
“My...My name is…” She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them again just as quickly like she was waking up from a dream. “My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie, Pinkie died in those woods. I don’t want that name, being called that...hurts in a way I can’t describe. Every time someone calls me that it’s like I’m being stabbed in the heart! I...can’t be her anymore, no matter how much I want to!”
Her voice cracked and her breathing became shaky, the corners of her eyes tearing up on the verge of crying, but she was making a visible effort to not cry again. Starlight remained as still and stoic as a statue, her entire body had a disturbing steadiness to it that almost didn’t seem human. She was holding the pencil in her right hand, returning Pinkamena’s scowl with a stern, stoic expression.
“I’m...every day is a struggle Starlight, sometimes I don’t even know who I am anymore! First I’m abandoned by my father, tortured to the point of breaking, and turned into a killing machine! Then I get some control freak entities shoved into my mind to make sure I don’t fuck up as the leader of the biggest criminal organization in the world, the most stressful position I’ve ever been in, and I can’t even be left alone with my own thoughts! I can’t talk to my friends both because I don’t know what would happen to them, and I’m terrified of what they’d think of me if they knew the truth!
My eyes are changing color, I’m losing more and more of myself and it’s getting harder to stay sane, my blood isn’t even red anymore! Hate myself? Don’t make me fucking laugh!” She painfully smiled as her nails dug into her chest, deep and sharp enough to draw blood, but she barely even noticed. Her entire body shook like a leaf in the wind, the pain in her heart and mind made anything physical seem negligible. “I don’t hate myself, I abhor whatever the fuck I’m becoming! I want to die because I know one day I’m going to snap and give in, and when I do, I’ll turn into something even worse than whatever I am now.”
A hot tear rolled down the right side of her face as she spoke, unable to stop herself from crying. So many emotions were breaking through the fragile dam she had in her mind, it made it impossible to keep composed.
All the thoughts she’d been trying to ignore.
All the fears she’d been trying to suppress.
All the anger, the terror, the guilt, the pressure, the stress, everything was coming out now.
Starlight still had that calm demeanor, but it was starting to slip. The corners of her lips were flickering like she was struggling to keep the blank look on her face, her grip on the pencil got tighter and her hand was shaking slightly, but she was still trying to remain stoic.
Her eyes betrayed her, showing the concern and pity she was feeling, the same kind that just made Pinkamena more angry.
“Starlight, what am I to you?” She asked in an irritated tone, sounding more like she was accusing her of something than an actual question. “You say you want to help me get better, but you really mean ‘fix’, right? Because I’m your patient, or because you feel bad for me? Like I’m a charity case, like you pity me?! Well I don’t want your goddamn pity!”
Pinkamena shouted angrily, raising her voice louder than she ever had before at Starlight. Starlight flinched, her eyes widening out of surprise, but otherwise didn’t move. She opened her mouth slightly to say something, but closed it again and decided against it.
“What do you want? Do you want me to be Pinkie again? Because I can’t, the moment I found...Inkie and Blinkies’ bodies in that cave, Pinkie died. Even if there was some miniscule chance, as soon as I killed all of those men, it was gone. It’s not just you either; Applejack, Sunset and the others, even Maud, I can see it in their eyes. T-they all look at me like I’m some broken toy, they expect me to just get better, but I can’t! I’ve tried!
I’d...hoped you wouldn’t pity me like them, that you’d understand me better than that. I hate being pitied, and you looking at me the same way they do...makes me wonder whether you even care about me at all.”
Starlight lowered her head again, though since her hair wasn’t as long as Pinkamena’s, little more than her eyes were covered. She hung her head in a way to where she was looking straight down at her journal, her grip still tight on the pencil and her hands still shaking as she moved the tip over the paper and then off of it a few times, like she wanted to write something but couldn’t stabilize her hand enough to do so. Her lips spoke wordlessly, whether she was talking to herself or trying to talk to Pinkamena was impossible to tell.
“I...like you Starlight, unlike me, you are a good person. But I won’t stand for being pitied, not if you want anything between us to be real. So, I need to know now, what am I to you? Someone you feel obligated to help out of pity? Another patient you want to fix? Or, am I…” She paused for a moment. “A replacement for Igneous?”
Starlight gasped and recoiled like she’d been hit, the sound of the pencil snapping in half reverberated throughout the room. Suddenly, Starlight was deathly still, her shaking had ceased and her chest was barely even rising as she breathed. Her heartbeat was still rapid and erratic, but her breathing was almost impossible to hear. On the outside she seemed serene, but judging by her heartbeat and her reaction to Pinkamena’s words, she was incredibly discomposed.
It kind of reminded her of Maud, and that was scary.
“If I’m being completely honest with you, yes, I do pity you. I’ve tried to not let it affect how I treat you, but it’s clear I haven’t been doing a good job of hiding that. I...didn’t know you hated being pitied so much, it’ll be hard but...I’ll try to stop, I’m sorry. But…”
Starlight’s voice usually had this constant upbeat tone to it, even when she was a bit upset. However, now it lacked that chipperness, completely devoid of any emotion, sounding almost cold. She didn’t move as she talked, most of her face was still hidden beneath her hair, holding the bottom half of the pencil in her hand.
“I hated a lot of things about your ‘Pinkie’ persona. I understand why you were like that, we’ve been over your previous unhealthy need to make people happy. To me, it just seemed so...fake, more like you were playing the role of ‘Pinkie’ rather than actually being yourself. All your relationships almost felt superficial, I’m not saying that none of your friendships were real, because they were. It’s more like...they were built on a lie, who you are now feels genuine, even if to be genuine is to be ugly.
I didn’t pity you because of who you are now, I pitied you because of all the things you had to go through to get to who you are now, who you really are. I like you now, you’re honest and aware, and don’t try to pretend to be something you clearly aren’t. I...didn’t know either that being called Pinkie was bothering you so much, I should have noticed that too, I’ve been off my game for a while now. I’ll start calling you Pinkamena, I kind of prefer that too, it’s more...eloquent. As for Igneous…”
She raised her head as she let go of the bottom half of the pencil in her hand, falling beside the top half on the floor as she reached into her vest jacket and pulled another one out. She put it in the center of the journal and brought her hands to her face, remaining silent for a few moments before lowering her hands again.
Her eyes looked....sad for lack of a different adjective, she had a distant stare, her mind somewhere else entirely. “Igneous and I were really close friends, at least, before he changed. I know people have been comparing you a lot, but as both of your personal therapists, I can tell you there are very distinct differences. I won’t go into details, but I don’t see any similarities between you two besides your positions. I miss him sometimes, of course, but not the person he became.
You are not his replacement, or anyone’s replacement, the fact that you even thought of that bothers me and just further shows me your insecurities. This relationship between you and I is unprofessional, I’m not friends with a lot of my patients, but I like it. You aren’t anyone’s replacements, and I don’t see you as a charity case, just someone who needs help. I care about you, to me…”
Starlight laid the journal with the pencil in the middle on the ground, standing up and moving towards Pinkamena. She stretched her arms out to the side and embraced her, placing her hands on her back and bringing her as close to her as possible. Her head rested on Pinkamena’s shoulder, her right cheek barely touching hers. Their bodies were as close as they could be, she ignored Pinkamena’s long hair in her face and hugged her both as gently and tightly as she could.
“You’re my friend.”
As soon as Starlight wrapped her arms around Pinkamena and whispered those words in her gentle voice, there was an almost euphoric sense of relief that washed away all her agony. Her tears stopped and she felt almost unable to move, it was at that moment she asked herself a question.
How long had it been since she’d hugged someone?
Even before all of this, when was the last time she genuinely hugged someone? Too long, the last time was with her friends a month or so before her birthday. She hadn’t even hugged her sister when she got back, who even though she was sure must have been worried about her, she had barely even talked to.
She had forgotten how nice it was.
She allowed herself to fall into the comfort Starlight was offering, returning the hug the best she could as the miniscule cuts she had made into her chest began to heal. She closed her eyes and let the warmth she was feeling overtake her, spreading to the rest of her body like a drug. It was similar to when The Whispers would numb out her emotions, but the exact opposite as a hot sensation filled her.
It was the closest she’d felt to happiness in a long time.
Pinkamena didn’t know how long they stood there in each other's embrace, her mind was empty, unable to think about anything. Her body wasn’t shaking, her heart wasn’t racing, she didn’t have thoughts of Blake or TSK, there was nothing.
In that moment she wasn’t the leader of The Syndicate, she wasn’t a broken Element of Harmony, she wasn’t a chimera. She was just...a person being hugged by their friend because she was upset, that’s all it was.
And it was great, it was also the first time since everything happened that she was treated like a normal person. Applejack was afraid of her but wouldn’t admit it, Maud was trying to treat her like she had before, but it was obvious she didn’t know what to do. Almost everyone else was afraid of her, and they had a right to be, she was barely even human.
Starlight had been one of the only people who didn’t seem afraid of her, and that meant more than she’d ever know. However, as much as she appreciated it, the moment had to end. There was something she needed to ask, and if she didn’t do it now, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to.
“Starlight, can you promise me something?”
There was silence that lasted for half a minute, making her wonder if Starlight had even heard her. Her voice was hushed and more meek than it had almost ever been, more similar to Fluttershy’s than her own.
“Anything.”
“I…” Pinkamena paused for a moment. “Won’t be able to ask you then. But when I need it, please, save me.”
She sounded more desperate than she had intended, resembling a dying wish rather than a promise between friends. Her grip on Starlight tightened a bit more than she had intended, she had to consciously hold herself back, her strength was something she was more or less getting accustomed to. If Pinkamena had truly wanted to, she could snap Starlight in half like a twig.
The fact that she even had that thought made her heart sink.
Starlight’s body coiled a bit as she pulled away, placing both her hands firmly on Pinkamena’s shoulder. She had a stern, concerned expression as their eyes met, with something that was a kin to resolve.
“Pinki-Pinkamena, I promise I’ll help you however you need. Just the same, as your friend and your therapist, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t get to that point.”
*I wish I could believe that.*
She kept her thoughts to herself as she closed her eyes, letting out a sigh as she moved away from Starlight, the warmth ebbing away as soon as contact was broken. She physically shuddered as the cold feeling of emptiness reared its hideous face, opening her eyes and glancing back at Starlight, feeling something reminiscent to when she would be getting ready for school and her eyes would go back to the bed, wanting to jump into its embrace and become encompassed by its solace.
Just like all those mornings, she shook her head and avoided looking at the source, willing herself to ignore the desire as much as she could. She couldn’t give in again, not here, not now. If she let everything go, let out every ounce of emotion and pain she’d been doing everything in her power to repress until she was ready to deal with it, she didn’t know if or when she’d leave. She still had so much to do until she could relax and deal with everything, she couldn’t stop now.
She brought her hands up to her hair and put as much behind her ears as she could, somewhat thankful that at least the texture of her hair didn’t change, a few of her long bangs dangling down her forehead, she tried to blow it out of her face just for it to go right back to where it was.
The crack in the dam holding back her emotions was plugged, her metaphorical mask was back on, the literal one waiting in her back pocket to be used. She was going to use it until she settled things with TSK and then get a new one, breaking that one and never thinking about Blake again, even if she had to force herself to.
“I think...that’s all I can handle today Starlight, I still have stuff I need to do.”
Pinkamena spoke with an almost dull tone, her back facing Starlight as she reached down to pick up her leather jacket, slipping it back on with ease.
“That’s...fine.” Starlight clicked her teeth making a ‘tsk’ noise, a blend of disappointment and frustration in her voice. “We didn’t make as much progress today as I would have liked, not on you, at least. It feels like we’ve been spending less and less time together, but I understand. When all this business with TSK is settled, we should go out and do something together, like a girls night out!”
There was an almost sheepish articulation in her voice, which was uncharacteristic for her, there was practically always an air of confidence with Starlight and with what she said. Pinkamena barely even noticed it, her hands rummaging around the pockets of her leather jacket, making sure the stuff she left in there was still there. Ever since she’d woken up from her coma, paranoia had become second nature.
Luckily, everything still was, not like she had any real reason to believe it wasn’t. She felt the outline of the ziplock bag with Marijuana Michael gave her earlier, she had nearly forgotten about it. Pinkamena questioned for a moment if she should ask Starlight if she had anything to roll it with, but then realized that telling her therapist she was going to be smoking weed wasn’t the best option. As cool as Starlight was, and as much as Pinkamena valued their friendship, there were some things she should not bring up.
Though in a weird, roundabout way, it did remind her of something else she needed to ask Starlight.
“Discord told me about the isolation tank in Ig-In my office, can you show it to me? And anything else I should know about it? I haven’t actually had the time to check it out yet.”
As Pinkamena said this, she turned around to face Starlight, adjusting the collar of her jacket. The exuberant therapist was a bit perturbed, her hands on her hips and scowling like she was expecting something. She drew breath to say something, but stopped herself, shaking her head as if to tell herself there was no point.
Starlight turned around and bent over, picking up the journal and closing it, easily slipping it back into her vest. “Yeah, I don’t mind, I don’t have a lot to do today. But, before we go…” Her movement ceased, other than her glancing at a small watch on her left hand. “Did you ask Discord about Cloudy?”
“Yeah, I did. We can talk about that later.” Pinkamena grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, hearing Starlight hesitantly turn around and walk up behind her, her heartbeat still a little erratic. “I figured on the way there I can catch you up on everything that happened, I’m sure you want to know why some of my hair changed color.”
“Wait, you mean you didn’t just dye it? But it looks so pretty! I didn’t think pink and black could go together, but the way your hair is, with one strain being pink and the one beside it being black, it almost makes me want to try it. If...pink or black were my colors, purple and blue fit me much better.”
Starlight said playfully with a small grin, the giddiness returning to her voice in an instant. She brought her hand up to Pinkamena’s hair and grabbed one of the black strains, tracing her fingers along it until she got to the tip. “It’s so soft too, I’m jealous! What do you do to get your hair so nice and straight? I never understood how you used to have it be so large and curly, and now it’s like this.”
She let go of her hair, her finger grazing against her cheek. Pinkamena tried to ignore the warm feeling she got in her face at Starlight’s touch, wondering whether she had just been deprived of good human contact with others, or if it was just Starlight that made her feel like that.
“I did take a shower earlier today, but I think it’s just naturally straight like that. It’s hard to explain, my hair has always been a bit weird, I’ll get to that later too. Right now, I’ll catch you up on everything, then we can set up that girls night out you were talking about. I don’t know when I’ll even get a day off, but I’d love to spend it with you.”
Starlight’s eyes lit up, her smile widening more than she’d ever seen it before and showing off her absurdly clean and white teeth, her hands grabbing Pinkamena’s excitedly with a surprisingly strong grip. “Perfect! I’m so excited! I haven’t had a girl’s night out since my college days, I miss being able to talk about clothes, and hair, and makeup, and gossip! You won’t believe some of the things Fancy Pants says when he’s drunk! Oh I’ve got to introduce you to some shows I just know you’ll love, I’m guessing Matt Stone will be your favorite, but I much prefer David Tennant.”
Pinkamena was a bit surprised by how animated Starlight was being, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen anyone so excited for a get together. Other than herself whenever she’d arrange a sleepover or party of some sort, anyway.
She couldn’t help but smirk at Starlight’s antics, it was nice to see someone getting so lively over something so lighthearted. With all the melodrama and darkness she had to deal with day in day out, the little moments of light like this are what keeps her pushing forward.
“Don’t get too excited, I can almost guarantee you it won’t be until sometime after I kill TSK and get Sunset off my ass. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be as fun to be around as I used to be.”
Starlight’s smile faltered a bit as she calmed down, noticing she had grabbed Pinkamena’s hands and abruptly letting go. “Don’t be a sourpuss! You’re plenty of fun to be around! When you’re not beating yourself up or dragging yourself down, really! Michael is much more a bummer nowadays, and Discord’s been so busy recently we’ve barely been able to talk. It’ll be great, you’ll see!”
As they talked they walked outside of Starlight’s office, she shut the door behind them and made sure it was locked. She held up her hand for a moment as she gestured for her to stop, reaching into one of the pockets of her ripped gray jeans. She pulled out her phone and began typing something on it, faster than even some high school girls Pinkamena had seen. Just as quickly she turned it off and put it back in her pocket, redirecting her attention to Pinkamena.
“Sorry about that, I was trying to set up a session with some friends. Anway, let’s go ahead and start walking towards your office, you can explain everything on the way there. It sounds like a lot happened after you called me.”
Seeing Starlight use her phone reminded Pinkamena of her own, she still needed to text AJ and set up a date for them to meet up so she could catch her up on everything, and also to make sure that she had Sunset and the others handled. The last thing she needed now was for them to get caught in the crossfire, she didn’t think The Silent Killer would shoot innocent civilians, but anyone who went out of their way to take out criminals dressed up in a suit like that, no matter what kind of justice they were using to justify it, couldn’t be mentally stable.
“Yeah, you could say that. Anway, right after I hung up, I walked into a convenience store and got shot. It was…” Pinkamena began to explain everything that had happened, deciding to leave out the fact that she was smoking again, that was a topic for another day.
Interlude 4: Cursed.
Author's Notes:
Hello! Like the Therapy Session chapters, these take place in between story chapters and add lore/foreshadow future events. They aren't necessary to read, but I still recommend you do! Tell me if you see any story or grammar issues, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, and thanks for reading!
The world had changed.
That was the realization Vincent came to after spending however long he had in that warehouse, watching a dozen or so different programs on TV’s in front of him. Moving pictures on black screens that absolutely baffled him at first, they were more detailed than even the greatest paintings he had ever seen, and they spoke like they were alive!
It took him a bit to get used to, Discord’s attempt at explaining how it worked didn’t help when he barely had a grasp on the english language, and Discord’s latin was insultingly bad and barely comprehensible. Still, how far technology had gotten really set in how long he had been gone, he was still unsure of how much time had passed.
After his talk with Discord, and only deciding to comply with him out of both necessity and familiarity, he informed him that before he could explain more, he needed to catch him up with the rest of the world. He would remain in that warehouse, his sustenance would be provided by Discord in the form of blood held by plastic bags, and he would be sending two well educated professors who he trusted to teach him.
Surprising even himself, it took him a matter of two weeks to get a fair understanding of English, though there were still some aspects of it that were confusing to him. The language was incredibly similar to latin, which is partly why it didn’t take him very long to understand it, though it also had aspects of other languages like older German, which is what made it confusing.
It helped that the guy teaching him was incredibly patient, mainly because he was absolutely terrified of him.
Vincent couldn’t exactly blame him either, while he had been provided clothing and thoroughly bathed by people similar to who came in to clean up the women he killed, his time at the bottom of the ocean in a stone coffin didn’t do him well. With a steady supply of blood his body was slowly recovering, but for a while he didn’t even look alive, more similar to a corpse that was halfway done decomposing, he could only imagine what it smelt like.
Now he had retained most of his human appearance, his blond hair was growing back and his skin had its color back. If he had to choose something to complain about, it was how frail his body was at the moment. He was so skinny and barely had any fat or muscle, it was something he was going to have to fix at a later point.
When the second professor came, he got a tad more...frustrated. Math was never his strong suit, many things about it didn’t make sense to him. However, Discord explained that math had become a lot more important in the modern age, so he would have to at least learn the basics. But, ‘unlike the modern public education system, I’m not going to teach you needlessly complicated math on the off chance it might come in useful someday.’ he explained.
Vincent wouldn’t come to understand what that meant until later.
After learning the math he needed to, Discord informed him it was time he learned more about the world he woke up in, and set up those devices that had been sitting in boxes in a corner of the warehouse since he’d been there. He also pulled out a leather chair, where it came from he couldn’t figure out, and gestured for him to sit there. Discord told him that he would be playing things called ‘video’s’ that he needed to pay close attention to that will help him learn about how things have changed.’
For the past month or so, or what Vincent was just guessing was a month since the warehouse was completely cut off from the outside world to protect him from sunlight, that’s what he’d been doing. Vampires didn’t actually need to sleep, they only did so to help pass the time while they waited for the sun to go down. Since their bodies were dead, they could technically go for as long as they wanted, as long as they got the blood they needed.
That’s how he had been spending his time, watching documentaries, biographies, long videos on the advancements of technology and science, and everything else of that calibre. Mixed in there was a cartoon about a talking sponge, while it clearly didn’t fit in, it was oddly entertaining and occasionally made him chuckle, something he had almost forgotten how to do.
The world had changed, yes, but humans had remained the same.
War, poverty, greed, and so many other aspects he distinctly remembered of them not only remained, but were amplified in some ways. His memories had been coming back slowly as he adjusted, and while he didn’t quite know why, he found those features of humanity disgusting and hoped they would have gotten weeded out. However, he couldn’t deny their redeeming qualities either. The creativity and innate ingenuity they were capable of only seemed to increase over time, some of the things they invented and created absolutely astonished him and would have been unfathomable to him before.
He heard the familiar sound of the warehouse door opening, not seeing the warehouse get much brighter, so he assumed it was night out. He didn’t bother looking behind the chair, there was only one person it could have been. Discord told him that he would be coming by at the end of each week to check up on him, it had partly been how Vincent kept track of time.
Thanks to his enhanced vampiric senses, he could make out Discord’s footsteps after shutting the door over the chatter of the TV’s, stopping to stand right beside his chair. His heartbeat was incredibly steady as usual, though his blood was pumping throughout his body a bit faster than normal, giving off the slightest hint of nervousness.
Vincent glanced up at him, slightly curious at if his facial expressions were giving away anything. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t. He still had that complacent smirk on his face, not showing even a hint at what he was feeling or thinking. While his glasses covered it well, the dark bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual, suggesting he hadn’t been sleeping particularly well recently. His hands were in his lab coat pockets and he was looking at the TV’s, slouching slightly and some stubble had started growing on the rest of his face, which wasn’t very compatible with his goatee.
“How’ve things been going, Vince? You’re nearing the end of stuff for me to teach you, pretty soon you’ll be independent, they grow up so fast!” Discord said with a sniff, rubbing his finger under his right eye like he was wiping away a tear, despite there not actually being any.
Vincent turned his gaze back to the TV’s, propping his chin on his right hand and bringing his left one up to his head, tracing his finger against the little hair he had. It was a bit more than a buzzcut of blond hair, but the texture of it was relatively soft, and he admitted he missed having hair.
“I...understand most of what I’ve been taught, though speaking English is...how do you say....challenging. I’m sure it will be less difficult with practice.” He said in a thick greek accent, some of his words hard to discern as he paused in between saying them.
“That’s good, I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a hurdle since vampires are used to having to adjust to the times. Anyway, there’s something I need you to smell.”
Vincent turned his head to the right to look at Discord, furrowing his eyebrows as he curiously watched him pull something out of his lab coat. It was a small vial filled with a black liquid, he recognized it from a few of the medical documentaries he watched. Discord handed it to him and he made sure to grab it with care, he knew glass was extremely fragile.
He hesitantly pulled off the cork at the top, bringing it up to his nose to smell it. As soon as he sniffed his hand reflexively clenched, crushing the glass vial and causing the black liquid to cover his hand and drop onto his legs. The veins around his eyes pulsated, his midnight blue pupils constricting and the sclera of his eyes flashing red for a brief moment.
He hadn’t even realized it, but his entire body was violently shaking, pure terror filled him like he was the vessel for it.
“It smells like it, right?”
Discord’s voice snapped him out of his trance, it took him a few moments to calm down his breathing, closing his eyes until the pulsating of his veins stopped. “Has it returned?”
“No, thankfully. That blood belongs to someone else, but it looked like its’, so I thought the same. Don’t worry, it's still gone, and hopefully will remain so for a very long time.” He tried to hide it, but there was an air of uncertainty and fear in his voice that he didn’t usually show.
Vincent let out a heavy breath, the tension in his body ebbing out as the fear was replaced with a sense of relief. He glanced down at the shattered vial in his hands and the black blood soaking his clothes and the chair, he relaxed his hand and let the shards crumble to the floor, rubbing his palm against the chair.
He would have licked it off, but his instincts were telling him that was a bad idea.
“I...apologize for breaking the vial. May I ask who...this blood belonged to?”
Discord chuckled as he reached down to pick up the remote sitting on the ground beside the chair, pressing a button on it and pausing all the TV’s at once. “It’s no biggie, I already ran all the tests on it I wanted to. As for who it belongs to...you don’t need to know yet, you’ll meet her in due time. Just know she’s on our side, but not involved with things quiet yet, she’s going to be essential in taking down Prodigium.” Discord’s voice was quieter than usual, having lost its usual mirth.
Vincent flinched at the name, his body now shaking again for a very different reason. “Is she...like me?”
“In a way, it’s complicated, I’ll tell you when we get to it. That reminds me,” He turned to face Vincent, placing the remote back on the ground. “I’m sure your memory has been returning, what do you remember so far?”
“Not...much, it’s like...trying to make out a dream. I recall,” He stayed silent, trying to properly articulate his thoughts and emotions into words, which wasn’t easy since he wasn’t used to speaking the language. “Pain, deep stabbing pain all over and in my body. Faces...I do not have names to, but feelings of hate...betrayal, and guilt. Then the darkness I awoke in, and that is all...only flashes of memories I have yet to understand. Though...”
He opened his eyes and met Discord’s, they narrowed into a scowl as he leered at him suspiciously. “Take off your shirt.”
Discord recoiled at the sudden statement, his smirk faltering for a moment. Then he let out an awkward giggle, putting his hands in front of him defensively. “Woah now, at least take a guy for dinner first! I-”
“Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
As Vincent said each word with heavy emphasis, he slowly stood out of the chair, his height towering Discord’s by half a foot at least. While Vincent had a relatively small frame, it was still intimidating.
Discord’s face turned more serious, his jaw tightening as he lowered his hands. He had a blank look on his face as he took off the labcoat, unbuttoning the white shirt underneath and letting it drop to the floor. There was nothing strange about his body, no scars or blemishes, nor did he have a particularly bulky or small build, just average.
It was the symbol on his chest that was the most bizarre.
At first glance it would be mistaken for a tattoo, but if someone were to be as close as Vincent was, they would notice it went much deeper than skin. It was like it was engraved directly into his muscles and bones, but could still be seen as if it were on the surface of the skin.
It was dark black, and somewhat large, starting at just below his neck and ending at his stomach. The top of a symbol was a long arrow pointing upwards towards his head, with two sets of arrows attached to it. On the upper part were two arrows, one that pointed to the right, and the other to the left. The lower part of the arrow was identical, but they stretched further, it immensely resembled a crossroads. The bottom of the arrow was connected to a large infinity sign, wide enough to where the ends almost reached Discord’s armpits.
“As I thought..that is The Levithan's Cross, correct?” Vincent asked in a shaky tone, speaking the very name invoked fear like nothing else did.
Discord only nodded, reaching down and beginning to slip on his clothes again, a solemn, almost pained smile on his face. “I apologize for lying and saying I was a descendant of people you knew, if I had told you everything from the start, I don’t know how you would have taken it.”
“...I understand, I just…” Vincent fell back down into the chair, all the energy leaving his body as he brought his hands to his face, pressing them to the sides of his head with his eyes closed. “You must be old, older than Prodigium, even. So that means...you have been alive this entire time? And...you were there when it was?”
“I…” Discord fixed his collar, lowering his gaze and holding his hand out in front of him. His hand was trembling, he clenched it to try to make it stop, but it didn’t work. “was, yes. I would much rather not think about those times, if it’s all the same to you. There is actually something else I wanted to ask you, assuming your memory allows.”
Vincent half opened his eyes, looking at Discord through the small openings between his fingers. “I will...try.”
“Remind me, how did you feel about werewolves again? I know most vampire’s despise them, but I vividly remember you having an opinion on them that was quite different than most.
Vincent’s mouth curved into a grin, the very tips of his sharp fangs becoming visible, ever so slightly tinted red with blood. “Are they still alive? I...assumed it would be quite difficult for them to thrive in this world, they were...on the border of extinction from what I remember, is that not the case anymore?”
He paused as he waited for Discord to respond, he gave a curt nod, almost eager for Vincent to continue. “I did not hate them like most did. Like vampires and humans, there are good ones, and there are very bad ones. I remember...one of my closest friends was one, even if their blind faith in their clans disgusted me, I suppose vampires aren’t much better since many are just the same to their sires. Since...you are asking me this, I am guessing you will be having one join us on our quest?”
As Vincent spoke, he took less and less pauses as he thought of the proper words, even if his accent was just as strong.
“Indeed, you will understand why soon enough. I also intend to get the leader of the skinwalkers on our side, good old Chrissy still owes me a few favors.”
“That wench is still alive?” Vincent asked with a crinkle of his nose, making a disgusted sneer as he spat on the ground. “I will not say that I won’t...cooperate with her if she shares the same goal as us, but do not expect us to get along, her...deceptive ways and silver tongue are things I find abhorrent.”
“And I wholeheartedly agree, if it was up to me, I’d leave her and her parasitic ‘children’ to rot in The Everfree Forest. Sadly, she not only has the influence and power we’d need, but also just as much reason to see him fall as we do. I don’t trust her in the slightest, but I trust her hatred for Prodigium will keep her on our side, at least until he’s handled. Afterwards, you have my permission to do whatever you want with her, I guarantee you by that point she’d already have plans to double cross us by that point anyway.”
“Hm, I’ll keep that in mind. What of this...lycanthrope you speak of? To my knowledge, werewolves only live...slightly longer than humans do. It would not surprise me if you did, but unless you have some kind of...artificial way of making them live longer, I don’t see how you could convince one to join us.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, I’ve got that handled.” Discord reached into his other lab coat and pulled out two things, the first was a handkerchief, and the other was a small bag filled with scarlet red blood. He tossed them both at Vincent, who caught them with his right hand without even looking.
“I got you some O-positive blood, if memory serves correctly, that’s the best tasting blood for vampires.” Vincent responded with an almost unnoticeable nod, using the handkerchief to clean up some of the black blood and biting into the bag hungrily and drinking from it, gulping it down like a dehydrated man in the desert.
“Yeah, you could say his life was artificially extended, in a way. His name is Wyett, and he’s from the Canis clan. The strongest bloodline of werewolves that ever lived, and almost extinct now. You could say he’s like my money jar, I’ve had him sitting on the shelf waiting for a rainy day. He’s being extracted and escorted here now, I already have a separate warehouse ready for him whenever he gets here. While I’m telling you our plans, he’ll be a bit behind on learning the language and how the world has changed, so give it a bit before you meet him.”
In less than a minute Vincent chugged down the contents of the bag, tossing it to the side whenever it was empty and letting out a satisfied sigh, wiping off the bits of blood on his face with his arm.
“I would like to...know the name of the woman you spoke of earlier, she...intrigues me. I’m interested in what kind of...creature would have blood like its’, and yet you are relying so much on it to align with us...when it sounds like she is not even aware of us yet.”
“Sure, just don’t give her any nicknames, really bothers her nowadays.” Discord reached down to pick up the remote, the sound of the chatter from the TV’s filling the warehouse again.
“Her name...is Pinkamena Diane Pie, and she’s a Chimera.”
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Three months, eighteen days, twenty two hours, and thirteen minutes.
That’s how long it had been since Pinkie disappeared.
Twilight didn’t have a counter or anything anywhere that was keeping track of this, she was doing all of this in her head, a constant reminder and motivator. Even when Sunset and the others texted her and sent her pictures of her coming back to school, the timer didn’t stop, this had become about a lot more than just her being missing.
The second that Pinkie went missing, Twilight dedicated her time to finding her. She was one of her closest friends! She owed her everything for saving her back during The Friendship Games, if it wasn’t for them, who knows what she would have done when she was high on magic and completely out of control. What kind of friend would she be if she couldn’t save one of them when they needed her?
That had felt like a lifetime ago, even though only four months or so had passed since then, it was more like years to her.
She didn’t let her grades slip or stop learning for a moment, setting up a system where she could study as efficiently and quickly as possible. While she missed Sunset and the others deeply, any time she thought of giving up, she thought of how desperate and in pain Pinkie must have felt, wherever she was. So Twilight spent every second of free time she had looking for her, pulling more all nighters back to back than she ever had before, and likely permanently damaged her health in the process.
The more she searched and dug for the truth, the more confusing things got, she quickly realized this was much more than just a missing person.
Her brother was the police chief, and was more than willing to tell her things the general public shouldn’t know if she convinced him it was in pursuit of saving her friend. She was also pretty decent at hacking, though not as good as she wanted to be. After a month she stopped looking for any signs of her around the city, and instead started looking at her family.
Which is when things started getting weird.
Her sisters also mysteriously disappeared, but while they were reported missing, the rest of The Pie Family insisted that a search party wasn’t necessary. It was strange because Pinkie had never talked about her siblings other than Maud before, and Maud, on paper at least, seemed normal. She couldn’t find any sign of distant family, no uncles, aunts, grandparents, or even cousins! The only other people she could investigate were her parents, and that somehow turned up even less than her sisters.
Other than being labeled as her mother, there was little to nothing on Cloudy Quartz, no birth certificate or relatives, nothing. She couldn’t find anything at all on her father Igneous, other than a few pictures of him, it was like the guy didn’t exist. This bothered her in ways no other mystery had before, something in the back of her head nagged at her to try to find more, but she decided on moving on to other things. She had been paying close attention, but there was no sign or news of any of them in the past three months, which made her family beyond suspicious.
She searched up reports and such on any significant events that happened after her disappearance, and while she couldn’t find causations for most of them, many of them seemed correlated in some way. A month or so after her disappearance, a vigilante being called The Silent Killer had started killing criminals, and was avoiding capture with ease and little left over evidence. In the past week there have been a handful of reports of a hooded figure fighting them on rooftops during the night, at least two instances of it.
Crime rates had also been incredibly erratic in the past three months, going from incredibly active, to dead silent, to active again around the same time Pinkie came back. Her heart was telling her it was just a coincidence, but her brain was telling her no such thing existed.
She managed to trick her brother into mentioning something about some big crime organization that controlled most of the city, and that he had heard from some sources that they had a new leader recently, and that was likely who was fighting The Silent Killer. The second she asked about it he clammed up, and then made her swear on her life she wouldn’t go around asking about them or bring them up to anyone else.
She, of course, kept her word, partly. She’d never seen her BBBFF so afraid before, so the fact that one criminal organization made him feel that afraid, they must have been a big deal. While she didn’t speak about it to anyone else, she had to look into it. She had been thinking that this was more than just a kidnapping or Pinkie getting lost, there had been no ransom in the time she was gone and Pinkie wasn’t that bad with directions.
Her main theory was that she had been taken somewhere and tortured, done by a group of people who knew what they were doing and how to hide their tracks. However, that didn’t answer why Pinkie was back now, and why she was so...different. There were very few other explanations, so she had to work with what little she had.
Through a very complicated tracking program she made a program that downloaded and followed the data codes of people who were thought to be a part of the criminal organization Shining mentioned, she was able to locate and hack a computer that was connected to its database.
At least, she attempted to hack it.
If she practiced at it more, she would have been successful, but in a matter of minutes getting past their firewall she was shut down. Luckily, she did a good job of covering her tracks, and was using a shielding VPN that redirected her I.P. address to somewhere else. While they had good security, she doubted anyone in some criminal organization was good enough to get through it and actually find her address.
Twilight was currently in her room, completely dark except for the light coming from her computer. There were books, energy drinks, coffee cups, empty bowls and plates, and various other things spread out in her room that she hadn’t had time to clean yet. She had asked Fluttershy to watch over Spike when she really started to get serious, she missed him almost overwhelmingly, but she had to stay focused.
As her fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, she got a notification from her school email, she only ever got a notification if it was something important. She paused what she was doing, which was trying to find any pictures of the fight between The Silent Killer and the hooded figure, and went to her email.
“Is that...an acceptance letter from Harvard!” Twilight shrieked as she stood up from the chair, her eyes rapidly going back and forth on the screen.
She was wearing her long, white lab coat, a purple shirt underneath with a large star on the front and pajamas as pants. Her hair was tied up in a pony tail and she had dark bags under her eyes, which didn’t hinder the excitement in her eyes.
Since she was graduating soon, she had gone ahead and put in letters to every college in the country, so she knew what her options were. Almost all of them accepted her, and she got enough scholarships to get a free ride anywhere she wanted to, but Harvard was her dream college! She had planned on double majoring, she just wasn’t quite sure in what yet.
She wanted to jump up and down, screaming and dance like a little girl, to run outside and tell her entire family the news and run to Fluttershy’s to embrace Spike. However, something was telling her something was wrong with this. She read the letter three times over, paying close attention for anything that seemed off in the slightest.
“It...appears legitimate, looks like every other acceptance letter I got, but why did I get it now? True, sometimes they run deep background checks before accepting, and with Harvard’s low acceptance rate they’re probably even more thorough. Still, my guts telling me something is fishy here.”
The only thing she found particularly strange about it was the acceptance condition, something no other acceptance letter she got before had. Before she could attend Harvard, she was supposed to meet a representative, alone. It would be at a time and location she could choose, all she had to do was respond with those details and meet them there.
Suffice to say, this was absurdly dubious. Why did she need to meet someone first? It helps that she gets to choose when and where, she intended to pick a very public place in the middle of the day, but it still seemed strange. What were they even going to discuss? All arrangements could be done online, and she was fairly sure she didn’t actually need to meet her educational advisor or anything, so what was the point of this meeting? This also happened to occur after she started digging into the crime organization she had heard about, no way that was a coincidence.
While she was skeptical of the legitimacy of this, she also couldn’t ignore it. If this was real and she said no, she would be turning down maybe her only chance to attend her dream college and pursue the education she desired! Sure she could go to another college, but she wouldn’t learn nearly as much as she would at Harvard!
She stared at the acceptance letter for a solid five minutes in tense silence, her eyebrows furrowed as she ran through every possibility. If she hadn’t been so sleep deprived, stressed and tired, she would have thought about it for an hour or so. But, the drain of mental fatigue over the past three months made thinking about anything else difficult.
“Curse you theory of lay epistemology.” she mumbled to herself begrudgingly, her fingers clacking against the keyboard rapidly as she typed in a response email.
She would choose the nearest Starbucks, she could use the coffee anyway. She would bring her taser and make sure her brother would have some officers watch her, tell her family where she was going at what time, and when she’d be back. She would make no other stops, and make sure the gps on her phone was turned on.
She was going to take every precaution she could, so why did she still have a bad feeling about this?
Chapter Three: The Highs And Lows.
Pinkamena and Starlight spent roughly an hour just talking. After she caught her up on everything that happened last night after their call, she started telling Pinkamena about her social life. While she didn’t have a lot of free time or days off, she spent a lot of it hanging out with a group of online friends. She hadn’t actually met any of them in real life, or even knew what they looked like, but she felt very close to them and thought of both of them as her best friends. They had met through shared forums and groups they were in, and mostly played video games together online.
There were only two of them, they were both girls and she didn’t know much about them except one was still in highschool, and the other had an absurd amount of free time and seemed to never sleep. The girl that was still in high school had a habit of speaking in third person, calling herself by her username. While the other one always spoke in a monotone and dull voice, rarely showing whatever emotion she was feeling, but Starlight had a distinct feeling that she was actually the type that cared a lot.
As soon as they got to the office, Starlight showed her everything she knew about it. She specified what in there either belonged to Igneous, or that he had added in. There were a few things in there that bothered her. First was the row of televisions that was constantly recording every room in The Syndicate, even the bathrooms, which was strange because she didn’t recall seeing any anywhere beside the outside of the vault where all the money was kept.
The second thing, which pissed her off significantly more, was a picture frame sitting on the desk. It was a family picture they had taken forever ago, she was actually shocked he bothered to keep it. She had to resist the urge to break it upon seeing that Limestone and Marble were marked with red x’s over their heads, showing how little their deaths meant to him.
Starlight remained silent as Pinkamena trudged over to the desk, flipping it face down so she wouldn’t have to see it.
She then showed her the laptop that was on there, informing her that it was basically an all-access resources to the online connections The Syndicate has, even to the extent of the black market and insider information that the public wouldn’t usually have access to. She didn’t know what Igneous kept in the drawers, but she guessed it was documents of various types.
The bookshelf had all kinds of books on it, apparently her late father really enjoyed reading books to pass time. She saw that some of them weren’t normal books, having labels on them that were names, all of them vaguely familiar to her like she heard them in a dream. She was almost positive they were the journals of the previous leaders, she made a mental note to skim through them later. There might be some questions answered in there that The Whispers didn’t want to tell her.
The last thing she showed her was where the isolation tank, or more specifically, how to access it. Like a scene straight out of some high tech spy movie, she placed her hand on a seemingly random spot on the wall. A small light came out of the spot and scanned her hand, a large, door shaped area beside the spot began to collapse in on itself and slide in to the side. Revealing a cylindrical, chamber like spot inside that was just large enough to fit one person. The inside was dark black, made out of some kind of metallic material she didn’t recognize.
Starlight explained to her that it was the isolation tank, but it had been significantly upgraded since she last saw it. How it used to work is whenever Igneous needed a short break and to be alone with his thoughts for a while, he’d have to tell somebody to let him out after a certain amount of time passes, or else he’d be stuck in there without anyone knowing where he’d gone.
Now that wasn’t necessary, Discord had upgraded it and made it to where it had a timer and would open itself after however long it gets put in for. The only people that would have access to it would be members of The Council and whoever the leader currently was, but as far as she knew, no one but Igneous had ever used it.
Previously, Pinkamena wanted to use it to force The Whispers to give her answers when they were being dodgy. While that was still partly the intention since she didn’t think they were going to start being honest anytime soon, she admitted the idea of being able to just completely cut off the world and focus on her thoughts was a bit tempting. She was curious what it was like and wanted to try it out, but she had other things she needed to do.
*I wonder which list is longer: my list of things that I need to do, or the list of things I want to do when I actually get the time?*
After that, Starlight and Pinkamena parted ways. Starlight mentioned that Michael was supposed to start his first physical therapy session soon, and she promised herself she was going to be there so she could talk to him without him finding some excuse to leave. Pinkamena didn’t want her to. Both because of her own conversation with Michael, and because she enjoyed being with Starlight. It was the few moments of normalcy she had in her now entropotic life, reminding her that things hadn’t completely gone to hell quite yet
She looked through the drawers, seeing documents, folders, and various other things she’d have to sort through later. She was searching for something to roll the weed with, she’d only done it once or twice herself, but she was fairly sure she could manage it decently. She actually ended up finding some wrapping paper, she wondered for a moment what Igneous was doing with wrapping paper in his desk. Then she realized that if Michael, Zecora, and more than likely Discord smoked, Igneous probably did too.
*The more I learn about him, the less I feel like I have a grasp on who he was. It’s like he was two different people at once, who the hell were you, Igneous?*
After taking the amount of wrapping paper she thought she’d need, she shut the drawer and left the room. The next time she got the chance, she was going to sit down and thoroughly investigate everything in there. She knew there were things in there that could help her and answer the questions she had. Also, while it was slight, the possibility of finding Igneous’ journal among the others. Her hatred for him was unlike any other intense emotion she’d ever felt before, but with it came a desire to understand him. To learn what made him the monster he became, to get whatever he went through that changed him like that when everyone said he used to be a good person.
She needed to know. If she didn’t, how could she stop herself from following in her father’s footsteps?
She made her way back to the workshop where Zecora was, passing the old man in the booth who she now knew as Randolph, he was smiling and appeared rather happy about something. She made it to the back where the striped gunsmith usually was, disassembling yet another weapon and cleaning it.
*Michael mentioned she’s been upset about Igneous dying and has been working non stop since then, I wonder how long it’s been since she’s slept?*
At the sound of the door shutting and being locked by Pinkamena, Zecora briefly stopped, glancing over her shoulder and staring at her. She looked her over for a moment, noticing that Pinkamena was wearing the exact same clothing she was just over an hour ago, her eyes hovering on her chest where there was dried blood. She decided not to comment on it and turned back around, going back to whatever gun she was working on.
Pinkamena sighed as she began to walk toward Zecora, she found herself slightly nervous. She didn’t quite know what to say, did she just walk up to her and ask her if she wanted to smoke? She had never initiated before, the handful of times she did at her parties someone else asked her too. She agreed out of curiosity, and because she thought if she said no it would ruin the mood of the party.
*Been a while since I felt nervous about something, it’s...comforting in a strange way.*
She pushed down the tingle of anxiety and grabbed a stool from one of the other workbenches, placing it behind Zecora. She reached into her pockets and pulled out her lighter, the bag of weed Michael gave her, and Igneous’ wrapping paper. She put her legs together and placed the paper on her lap, pulling some of the weed from the bag onto it and rolling it.
She surprised herself with how steady her hands were and well she actually did it, she had always watched others, never having done it before. She chalked it up to The Whispers, guessing that either one of the previous host smoked a lot as an escape, or they all did.
As soon as the blunt was rolled, she set the bag down on the ground and brought it up to her lips. It stuck out the corner of her mouth as she turned the lighter on and lit the end of the joint, putting the lighter in her hoodie and deeply inhaling through her mouth. At the sound of the lighter Zecora flinched, stopping what she was doing, but not turning around.
The familiar taste of what she could only describe as ‘painless burning’ flickered onto her tongue, incredibly similar, and yet distinctly different from a cigarette. The stench filled her nostrils, it didn’t smell good, but it had a certain allure to it that took a significant amount of getting used to.
She held it between her fingers and held the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds, closing her eyes and trying to recall the parties she used to do this at. The friends she used to smoke with: sometimes ones she was closed to, sometimes basically strangers, but it was fun all the same.
Her life was much easier than, she had no problems trusting people and had no worries on her mind except whether she was going to be able to pass Cranky’s history test or not.
Most people would think she was the giggly type when she got high, but that would be wrong. She actually totally mellowed out, her typical bubbly personality ebbed away along with her impulsivity. It was some of the few times her hair went straight other than when she had her depressive episodes, she started to think rationally and didn’t feel that desire to be overzealous and random like usual.
Some people it scared, some people said they preferred her that way. She didn’t have much of an opinion on it, other than she didn’t want to be like that around Sunset and the others. She didn’t want them to think she was weird, and compared to how she normally acted, that would be.
*Doesn’t really matter now, does it?*
She opened her eyes and let out the smoke in her lungs, feeling the dopamine cloud her mind and dull her senses. A furor of peace came over her as everything else faded away. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, her body relaxing as she allowed herself to slump down in the stool.
She remembered Starlight’s words about the calming ritual, and this was likely the closest to peaceful she could get. She brought her left hand up to her chest, grabbing her necklace through her shirt. She turned her gaze to Zecora, her eyes half-lidded and her mind dazed, almost like she was in a trance.
“Zecora.”
Zecora had remained eerily silent and still, her back facing Pinkamena. When she heard her name, she raised her head and turned around, her hands on her knees and her jaw tightened with a tense expression on her face. First she made eye contact, her eyes narrowing like she suspected her of something. Then her leer dropped to the blunt in her hands, Pinkamena’s hand was extended offering it to her.
She abruptly closed her eyes, a blank look on her face as she internally contemplated something. She inhaled deeply through her nose and then through her mouth, her eyes snapping open and snatching it out of her hand. She brought it to her mouth and smoked it as if she were dying in a desert from dehydration and it was water, her body shuddering with relief as a puff of smoke came out of her mouth. For the first time, she saw Zecora actually relax. The corners of her lips rising into an almost beatific smirk, a stark contrast to the grave demeanor she always gave off.
They remained in that silence for a minute, Zecora stared at the joint in her hand with a dreamy look in her eyes, her mind clearly somewhere else much more pleasant.
“You have...no idea how much I needed that.” Zecora spoke in her accent that Pinkamena couldn’t quite recognize, once again halting on speaking in rhymes.
“Probably about as badly as I did, I haven’t smoked since...May? Long before all of this.” Pinkamena slurred as she took the blunt, taking another hit from it.
The more she smoked, the more she could feel her mind becoming both clouded and clear. Her emotions became nonexistent, filled instead with a sense of tranquility and ease. This allowed her to think of things more rationally and to concentrate her thoughts, all her worries and even the constant whispering in the back of her mind were dulled.
“I take it Discord is the one who suggested you do this? As much as I’d like to believe you just came to smoke with me, we’re both far too busy for that.”
Her voice was low and relaxed, but there was still a strict undertone.
“Michael, actually. He’s worried about you, he told me that ever since Igneous died, you turned full workaholic. He also told me that smoking was basically the only way to get you to relax and actually talk. I may not know you that well, but since you guys have been handling everything, I feel like this is the least I can do.”
Zecora gave an affirmative grunt in response, taking the blunt from Pinkamena and taking a much longer hit from it. Her smirk faltered, her eyes dropping downcast as she began brooding.
“Zecora,” Pinkamena paused, the image of her deceased dad flashing in her mind for an instant. “Why are you so torn up over Igneous? I understand why Michael and Starlight are upset, but not you. Was everyone in The Council close to him?”
Zecora turned her head to the side, staring off almost absentmindedly as she took another hit from the blunt, the room starting to strongly be filled with the smell and the smoke. “Do you...know how I came to be a part of The Syndicate?”
Pinkamena thought back to her talk with The Whispers, recalling when they took the appearance of her grandfather and told her the story of how he came across Zecora. “Yeah...Gerald went to go handle a sex slave ring, and found you, right? I heard you managed to break his arm, and that impressed him enough to where he decided to take you in.”
She scoffed, smiling like she was reminiscing on a fond memory. “It was a fluke, he had tired himself out after killing the majority of them. You have to understand, I didn’t know he was a chimera, or that he had come there to save us. I’d rather have died than be a slave for a day more, if I died fighting for my freedom, so be it.
He hadn’t expected one of us to fight back, I took advantage of that and broke his arm. Instead of screaming in pain or even being angry, he laughed like I had told him the funniest joke he’d ever heard, and brought me and the other slaves back to The Syndicate. He sent the others away and offered me a job here, and the rest…” Her voice shifted to a gravelly tone, taking another long hit from the blunt and noticing that it was already mostly burnt out.
“History.” She mumbled as she stood out of the chair, walking over to a part of the room where there was a trash can, tossing it in casually and walking back.
“What…” Pinkamena hesitated in asking, not entirely sure if she wanted the answer to the question she was about to ask. “Was he like?”
Before Zecora sat back down, she grabbed some of the wrapping paper still on Pinkamena’s lap, the lighter, and the bag of weed on the ground. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot as she tried to focus on wrapping another blunt, her hands were still incredibly steady and precise.
“Genuinely one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and absolutely nothing like his son. He hated violence more than anyone I ever knew, but didn’t hesitate when he knew it was necessary. I can not say if he would be proud of you, but I assure you it would be better than if he witnessed how Igneous fell. I…”
She paused when she finished rolling the fresh blunt, once again inhaling deeply through her nostrils and exhaling through her nose, before lighting it and offering it to Pinkamena. She took it and hit it once more, wondering how bloodshot her own eyes were.
“I did not care for your father in the slightest, I joined The Syndicate because of Gerald, and many believe I stay here because I enjoy it. In reality, I only stay because I have nowhere else to go, and I feel obligated to stay to pay back the debt I owe to him.”
“Debt?” Pinkamena asked, her mouth rapidly getting dry, she tried to ignore it.
“On his deathbed, I made him a promise that I would help his son to the best of my abilities, it was his last wish. He knew Igneous was troubled, and that taking on the weight of being the leader might have been too much for him, and he asked that I join the Council to try to share some of that burden. I agreed, but I…” Her head dropped shamefully as she closed her eyes. “Failed, miserably. Not only was I unable to stop that responsibility from breaking him, I could not prevent his death either.
I do not blame you for killing him, instead, I blame myself for not being able to save him. I could not keep my promise to your grandfather to protect Igneous, so I must protect you alternatively, and hope that he forgives me.”
She opened her eyes and looked at Pinkamena almost pleadingly, apologizing with her face instead of words. She hung her head in guilt, vaguely reminding Pinkamena of samurais in those old japanese films she used to watch.
“I have failed not only your grandfather, but you, as well. I should have done something to help your assists, convinced him it was too soon and that they needed more time, or done anything! I offer you my body, my soul, and everything I am to assist you. If you were to tell me to kill myself on the spot, I would not hesitate to do so. However, I must beg of you to allow me to dedicate myself to completing this weapon. I gave my word that I would, and where I’m from, my word means more to me than my life.”
It was hard to tell with the pungent smell and thick smoke in the room, the burning of her eyes, the dryness of her mouth, and the taste she knew she was going to have a hard time getting out later didn’t help. However, she could tell there was genuine desperation and guilt in Zecora’s taut voice.
The mention of her sisters and that Zecora thought she could have done something to save them should have made her angry. The fact that Zecora was like this because she killed Igneous should have made her at least a bit guilty, or even that her grandfather was just as good of a person as she remembered should have made her feel relieved.
She should have felt something, but her mind was so clouded and hazed that emotions just didn’t quite register. Instead of being angry like she would have sober, she brought the blunt to her mouth, ignoring how dry her throat was as she held the smoke in her lungs and closed her eyes. Exhaling as she smiled.
“If I wasn’t so baked right now, I probably would be pissed at you. Currently, from where I’m sitting, I don’t think there’s anything you could have done. I only have a rough idea of what happened to him, but I’m confident that not you or anyone else could have stopped it. If you tried to stop him from putting my sisters in there, he would have just seen you as in the way.
I might get angry at you later when I come down, but I would never order you to kill yourself for something you couldn’t control. I know what it's like to blame yourself for something that isn’t your fault. I can’t speak for my grandfather, but I forgive you for your failure, especially since you’re trying so hard to make up for it.”
“You’re…” Zecora raised her head, her face relaxing a bit. “Too kind. I can not forgive myself so easily, but your words have helped alleviate my guilt.”
*No, I’m not. I’m...really not.*
Pinkamena offered her the blunt. She took another hit from it and offered it back, but she dismissively waved her hands, deciding she’d had enough for one day.
“There’s...still something I don’t get.” Pinkamena mumbled as she leaned forward in the stool. “Zecora, please, I need to understand. What kind of deal did you make with Igneous that makes you so committed to it even after he’s dead? Can you at least tell me that much?”
“That…” Zecora’s eyes dropped to the blunt, twirling it between her fingers absentmindedly. “Would require me to tell you about my life, before I became a slave. I don’t like talking about it, but if that is what you ask of me, I will oblige.”
Zecora straightened her back, watching Pinkamena as she waited for a response. She nodded, bringing her hands up to her hair and trying to keep it out of her face. Zecora closed her eyes and sighed, bringing her hand up to her right temple and rubbing it, her body language evidently more tense.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed from my accent, but I’m not from this country. I was born in a tribe in Central Africa, a place I have not been to in far too long. My tribe placed much value on honor, teaching us that above all, our word should be the most valuable thing we can give. If we say we are going to do something, we do it, or our life is forfeit.
I was...seventeen, I believe when my home was attacked. I don’t know the entire story, but apparently some disgusting animal in human clothing had a ‘collection’ he was trying to mass, and wanted a woman of every variety, he was willing to pay a lot for anyone that could bring him something he didn’t have.
The men who took me, if you could call them that, thought that he wouldn’t have a young girl raised in an African tribe. However, they didn’t know what kind of women he liked, so they took multiple of us. They brought us here and...kept us in cages, barely feds us and we weren’t allowed to wear clothes. We were only there for two days as they waited for the man to come by and buy the one he wanted, and they intended to kill the rest of us. That never happened, as you know.
It may have only been two days, but those two days of us being used like nothing else but living toys were genuinely the closest to hell I’ve ever been. It took me years to get past it, and yet I still wake up some nights expecting to wake up in those cages again.”
Pinkamena felt a hot flash of anger deep inside her for a brief moment, the situation sounding all too familiar to her situation with Blake. Even high out of her mind, her hatred for him bled through like blood through clothing. She pushed it down and tried to ignore it, focusing her mind on something else.
“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but is that why you selectively rhyme? Because it’s something your tribe did?”
It was a long-shot guess, but something was telling Pinkamena that was the case. Zecora confirmed it with a nod, taking another hit without even opening her eyes. “It is how I remind myself of my home, I do not ever want to forget where I came from. As more time passes, it is getting harder to remember it, rhyming is almost the only thing I have. Once I have retired from this place, I intend to return there, and it is where I shall die.”
Home
That wasn’t something Pinkamena had thought about recently. Did she truly have a home? A place where she genuinely felt she belonged? She didn’t truly know. There was her house with Maud, but that didn’t feel like a home. Neither was The Syndicate’s base, or anywhere else, for that matter.
A home was a place someone felt like they belonged, and Pinkamena didn’t think she belonged anywhere.
“So, I’m guessing…” Pinkamena paused as she thought to herself. “Your deal had something to do with killing the guy you were originally meant to be sold to?”
Zecora shook her head back and forth, smoking the last bit of the blunt to herself. “No, I’ve never been the type to think about revenge, it does not reverse what was done. To this day I do not know the name of the man, and I don’t care to learn it. He told me that he wanted me to build a gun like The Silent Killer’s and gave me everything he had on it. In return, all I asked was that he checked on my tribe. I had no way of knowing what happened to them, at the very least, I wanted to know their fate.”
“From the way you’re speaking, I’m guessing he told you they were alive and well. Meaning, you building this gun is you keeping your side of the deal.”
Once again, Zecora confirmed by nodding. She got out of the stool and tossed the used joint in the trashcan, leaving the lighter, bag, and wrapping paper sitting on the floor. When she sat back down, she glanced at them for a moment, internally debating rolling another one. She subtly shook her head, sitting down and keeping a stoic stare on the ground in front of her. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was clearly very high. However, that didn’t seem to stop her from brooding, Pinkamena was beginning to wonder if getting high even really affected her at all.
“I think I get it now. You made a promise to my grandfather to protect Igneous, but you failed that. You also made a promise with Igneous to make that gun, problem is: He’s dead. So you’ve been burying yourself in cleaning guns to keep yourself preoccupied, and to try to deal with the guilt.”
“..yes.” Zecora murmured.
*Alright, I think I’ve figured out what all the members of The Council have in common; They’re all mentally unstable one way or another. Except for Fancy Pants, I think.*
Pinkamena crossed her arms, Zecora was watching her out of the corners of her eyes, like she was waiting for her approval. She had to handle this delicately, this was a sensitive situation. Zecora’s guilt and shame were so severe that she thought the only way to repent would be to completely dedicate herself to Pinkamena in an attempt to make up for it, effectively only thinking of herself as a tool.
Which was bad. She didn’t want anyone’s life to be her responsibility, certainly not because of something like regret. She needed to say the right words to get Zecora out of her stupor, which wasn’t easy since she’d never handled anything like this before.
*Why does it always have to be me?*
“Zecora, I’m not going to act like I understand your situation. I’ve been tortured and used as nothing more than a living fleshlight, and I know guilt, it’s almost crushed me many times. I agree with putting value on your word and the promises you make, I strongly believe in the phrase ‘A promise isn’t a promise unless it’s kept, it’s just a lie’. Still…”
Pinkamena reached forward with her right hand, hesitating before making physical contact, pushing through the fear and placing her hand on Zecora’s shoulder. As soon as contact was made Zecora’s head raised, her eyes widening as her composure fell, showing just how genuinely afraid and ashamed she was.
“To give yourself to me because you made a mistake or two is not only absurd to me, it’s unthinkable. Your word should mean a lot, but that doesn’t mean you have to blame yourself because you messed up. You couldn’t stop what happened to Igneous, no matter what you might have tried, things would have turned out the same. He was too far gone.
You can continue building that gun for him if you like, but I don’t want you burying yourself in work to keep yourself distracted from your thoughts, not like I have any right to say that. You said that you’re giving your life to me? That you would do anything I tell you to? Well, my first and last order is for you to start living for yourself. Stop feeling held down by your obligations you couldn’t keep, if you don’t let your past die, it won’t let you live.
Instead of being alive for other people, live for yourself Zecora. Be a person, not a tool. If you keep being held down by your emotions, then you still haven’t moved past what those men did to you, and you’re just a slave to your emotions instead of them.”
She took a risk bringing up her time as a slave. She wasn’t even entirely sure if the words she was speaking were her own or from The Whispers, but it seemed to work. Zecora recoiled slightly out of shock, her mouth agape as she registered Pinkamena’s words. The corners of her bloodshot eyes teared up, her eyes narrowing in an expression between relief and fear.
“You’re saying...I’m free?” Her words came out as desperate, like she was hearing the answer to a question she’d wanted for a long time, and wanted to hear it once more.
“Well, I’d like it if you stayed a part of The Syndicate to help me when I need it. But, no, you’re not obligated to do anything. If you want to leave and go back to your home, I won’t stop you.”
Pinkamena could feel the tension in Zecora’s body leave, she shuddered as she relaxed, like she hadn’t calmed down like that in a while. Her eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled down her cheeks, letting out a breath that sounded like she’d been holding it for a long time.
“Thank you, that’s…” She paused as she opened her eyes, wiping the tears off her face and taking a deep breath as she composed herself. “The words I never knew I needed to hear. However, I believe I will stay. I have grown close to some of the people here, and I feel like this is where I belong, for now.”
“If that’s genuinely what you want, then I couldn’t approve more.” Pinkamena said as she stood up from the stool, her back and neck popping as she stretched.
It must have been something to do with her healing factor, because she could already feel herself coming down. Her eyes were beginning to burn less and that dazed feeling was beginning to fade, her emotions were starting to come back through. If her healing made it to where she could only stay high if she was continuously smoking, that probably meant getting drunk wouldn’t be easy either.
*Great, just fan-fucking-tastic. No fun allowed for me, I guess.*
She scowled at this realization as she turned to look back at Zecora, relaxing as she remembered something she had meant to ask her earlier.
“Zecora...how many guns have you fixed or cleaned since Igneous died?”
She peered up at Pinkamena for a moment, then glanced to herself as her mouth moved wordlessly, as if she were counting something to herself.
“103.”
“Yeah, come on. You’re taking the rest of the day off, at least.” Pinkamena said as she grabbed the wrapping paper, lighter, and bag of weed, making a mental note to drop it off at her office later.
“But I sti-”
“How many days has it been since you’ve last slept?” Pinkamena asked as she glared at her, her hands wrapped under the stool she was sitting on and carrying it over to the workbench she took it from.
“...Two days, I think.” Zecora mumbled bashfully.
“That’s too long. Alright, here’s what we’re going to do:” She stated as she sat the stool down, turning to face Zecora. “I’m coming down right now, and since I haven’t had anything to eat today, the munchies are hitting really hard right now. So, we’re going to go to the cafeteria and eat something. After that, I need to leave, I have things I need to get done today. You,” She said with emphasis as she pointed at Zecora. “Are going to sleep! I don’t care how, take melatonin or something, just get some rest. After that, do whatever you want, except work! Watch Spongebob, get high again, whatever. Just. Relax.”
“What about-”
“Zecora, don’t make me pull the ‘leader’ card. I don’t want to, but I will.”
They held a short staring contest, both stubbornigly staring at the other. Zecora, likely because her eyes were still burning, gave in and closed her eyes with a sigh.
“Can you at least let me complete this one? I hate leaving things unfinished.”
Pinkamena glanced at the weapon on the workbench behind her, The Whispers telling her it was a half-dissasembled Remington 870.
“Fine, you have thirty minutes. If you aren’t in the cafeteria by then, I can and will come back here and drag you if I have to.”
Pinkamena exclaimed, turning around and walking towards the door. She opened it and took in a deep breath of the clear air, letting some of the smoke out and then walking out herself, shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shut, Zecora turned back around and continued working on the gun, an almost unnoticeable smirk on her face.
“I don’t know what any of them are talking about, she’s nothing like him.”
********************************************************************************************
Her lunch with Zecora was...filling, in one word. She got as much as she thought she could eat, and then a little more. The only strang thing was while she was getting food, the person who manages all that told her that Discord said if she ever came by to get anything, she was to always get a drink with it. It was the same milk like liquid that last time he brought her food, she made a mental note to ask Discord about it the next time she saw him.
When Zecora showed up, she had clearly came down, but still distinctly smelt like weed. She brought significantly less food than her and looked exhausted, it seemed finally relaxing made her realize just how tired she really was.
They ate in silence for a short while. It wasn’t an awkward one, more like they both just simply had nothing to say. Afterwards, they each went their own ways. Zecora looked like she was moments from passing out, and for all Pinkamena knew that’s exactly what happened when she left. Pinkamena stopped by her office and dropped off some of her stuff there, picked up her hoodie she left in that bathroom, and then left for her house. She at least needed to check in with Maud, and then she needed to set up a meet up time with Applejack.
Right now, she was freerunning there, jumping across the rooftop building to building. She felt an immense sense of satisfaction, both from because she ate until she was full, and because she genuinely felt she handled things relatively well. Her talk with Discord and Michael was, at the very least, informative. Her therapy session with Starlight, while it could have gone better, still improved both herself and her relationship with Starlight. She got to help Zecora and get high at the same time.
With how everything has been lately, it was a good day so far.
“Someone’s in a good mood.”
Her smile dropped at the sound of Igneous’s voice, turning her head left to the source of the voice. The Whispers were floating in the air beside her, on their back with their eyes closed and arms crossed like he was taking a nap, following along with her with each jump.
“Haven’t seen you for a while, any particular reason for that?”
“Didn’t think you needed me. Alice was handling the melding, and she wanted to deal with any of your emotional issues herself in case it had anything to do with the aftermath. I was going to step in and give you some advice with how to handle things with The Council, but you actually ended up doing a decent enough job yourself. I guess giving you their knowledge made you a better leader.”
“Hm.” Pinkamena grunted, turning her face back forward. She found it hard to take anything they said at face value, especially since Alice switched up her act so easily and convincingly.
“If that’s true, why are you here now? My plans for the rest of the day are to visit Maud, catch AJ up on what’s happened so far, and hunt down TSK to settle things. None of that sounds like you need to be involved.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t like me.”
“I don’t.”
His eyes snapped open and he brought his hand to his chest like he’d been shot, hunching over in mock offense. “Ouch, that really hurts my feelings, y’know?” He said unconvincingly.
“If it makes you feel any better, I like you better than Alice. You’re upfront and consistent, I at least have a rough idea of what to expect from you.”
He straightened out and turned to face her, his act dropping and turning on his side to face her. He propped his head on his hand, like he was laying on something and not floating in the middle of the air.
“Well, negative nancy, I actually came here to give you some advice with your romantic escapades. But now I don’t wanna.” He said as he pouted.
She glared at him out of the corner of her eyes, raising her eyebrows as she found herself struggling to understand what he was referring to. She paused as she tried to think back to the last time she did anything romantic. The only thing that came to mind was her talk with Starlight about her relationship with Rainbow Dash, and the confirmation after checking her voicemail that Rainbow had feelings for her, it was just the question of if Pinkamena reciprocated those feelings or not she was uncertain about.
“Are you talking about the whole thing with RD? There’s not much to talk about since she’s...dead, what I might have felt for her is irrelevant.”
He rolled his eyes at her like she stated something that was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not that, I couldn’t care less about your conflicting feelings about your dead friend. No, I’m talking about your blooming fondness of Starlight Glimmer!”
His sudden words completely threw Pinkamena off balance, as soon as her feet touched the next rooftop, there was a loud screeching sound as her shoes scraped against it. She threw her arms out in front of her as she tried to regain her equilibrium, avoiding looking down at the alleyway behind her.
She let out a relieved sigh as she firmly placed her feet on the rooftop, glaring at The Whispers a few inches in front of her. He was wearing a smug smile, his arms in his pockets and his hat slightly tipped forward.
“I’m not developing feelings for-”
In an instant, he appeared in front of her, pushing the tip of his finger against her lips. Unlike Alice’s touch, which had fake warmth that felt like it was imitating human contact, his was still cold and dead like a ghost.
“No. We aren’t playing this game. You aren’t sixteen anymore, and I’m not one of your girlfriends. As of right now, you are in the starting stages of romance, or, a ‘crush’. How you take that is up to you, but I don’t have the patience to deal with you denying it right now.”
He pulled his hand away from her mouth, she opened it to retort, but shut it at his disapproving leer. She glanced away from him, steering her thoughts toward Starlight.
She thought of her as a close friend, yes, but was it anymore than that? She couldn’t really say, her romantic experience was next to zero. Thinking about Starlight made her feel...warm, if she really focused her thoughts on her, her heartbeat picked up slightly. The way she always tried to look good showed how much she cared about other people and what they thought of her, how nice she could be and yet stern when she needed to.
Her hands were firm yet soft, she always knew the exact words to say and how to say them. How easy she was to tease, and how surprisingly insecure she was about things. Her smile was so sincere and happy, it reminded her a lot of how she used to smile. She’s seen Pinkamena on the edge of a meltdown and overwrought with bloodlust, and yet she didn’t think less of her because of it.
Pinkamena noticed her cheeks were warmer than usual, a tightness in her chest she could only describe as ‘flustered’.
“Maybe…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to compose herself. “You’re right, I might. Why are you bringing it up? Do you disapprove or something?”
“Oh no, not at all!” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “In fact, out of everyone in your life right now, she’s probably the best person you could get with. It makes sense why you’d fall for her too.” He put his finger in the palm of his right hand like he was counting something. “She’s been there for you when you needed it, she’s incredibly trustworthy almost to the point of gullible, she has low self-esteem and insecurities and probably doesn’t even realize what a catch she is. It helps that she’s easy on the eyes.”
She ignored his brashness and turned around, recognizing her surroundings as about five minutes or so away from her house. “What about...the fact that she’s my therapist?”
“Pfft! You think that matters? Hell no, not in a lifestyle like yours. Even Igneous thought about it once or twice, and he was married! Though, his wife was little more than a robot with a human body, so I can’t really say I blame him.”
She found it hard to choke down the disgust that rose up inside her at that statement, clenching her fist and jumping off the edge of the roof to another building as she began to freerun again. Unsurprisingly, she saw The Whispers appear beside her, floating in the air with a perturbed frown.
“That was rude, not very nice to run off when someone’s talking to you.”
“Are you going to keep saying things you know piss me off, or actually give me the advice you said you were going to?”
He scowled and brought his hand up, pressing his thumb against his finger as he prepared to snap them. She mentally prepared for a brain aneurysm, having learned to just always expect one after everything she says. She was a little relieved when he lowered it, hearing him mumble something along the lines of ‘Not worth it, she won’t learn anything.’
“You honestly don’t deserve it, buuuut since we’re melded now, we’re invested. Besides, maybe getting you a girlfriend will help you loosen up a bit, everyone needs a little reprise every now and again. I’ll take a page out of Maud’s short book and use a geology metaphor: Everyone needs a rock that keeps them grounded.”
“So...what, are you telling me to confess to her? When, for one thing, I don’t even know if she swings that way? Or if she’s even interested me at all? Not to mention she is clearly still getting over Michael! There’s so many reasons for her to say no, and so many ways it could go wrong!”
She tried not to raise her voice due to the fact it was still midday and there were likely people in some of the buildings she was jumping on, but she couldn’t keep the panic and aggravation out. He responded with a light chortle, a self-entitled smirk on his face that couldn’t have been a more perfect imitation of the man they were dressing as.
“You’re right, but you’re wrong. Yeah, lot’s of things could go wrong, but just as many could go right. Can’t tell ya whether or not she feels the same way, only mind we can read is yours. What I can tell you, is that every person we’ve been a host to has had regrets of some kind. The single ones regretted not having someone and dying alone, and had at least one person they might have been able to be with if they confessed. Don’t be like that, grow some balls and tell her you’re interested.”
“It’s...not that easy, I can’t just…” Pinkamena landed on the sidewalk across from her house, quickly looking around and seeing no one was there. “I mean, I’ve never confessed before, what if I mess up? I-”
He placed his hand on her shoulder, which she was fairly sure was meant to be reassuring, but didn’t have any sort of affect since it didn’t actually feel like he was touching her. “Kid, you’ve stared death in the face and smiled, and now you’re telling me you’re afraid of being rejected? You could die any day, it's not like you’re immortal. Just do it, take the risk, might work out.”
She shrugged off his hand, the way he was trying to comfort her...deeply disturbed her, she actually preferred when he was being arrogant. As much as she hated to admit it, there was truth to what he was saying. Considering everything she’s been through up until this point, being worried about rejection was just absurd.
“I mig-”
There were two heartbeats.
As she stepped towards her house and it came in range of her hearing, she detected Maud’s heartbeat like she expected to, but there was also a second one she didn’t recognize. Maud’s was, as usual, incredibly steady and slow. The other’s was slightly erratic and beating faster than average, almost like they were nervous and anticipating something.
What really threw her off was how close the heartbeat’s were to one another. From what she could tell, they were both standing up, the heartbeat she didn’t recognize right behind Maud. She didn’t think Maud would just invite someone over without telling her, nor could she think of anyone she would let get that physically close to her.
Suffice to say, this put Pinkamena on edge.
“We’ll finish this conversion never. I-” She glanced over her shoulder at where The Whispers were standing, just noticing that they had disappeared without a trace or even a word, like they usually do.
She shrugged it off and speed walked towards her house, her mind running through the possibilities of who could have been in there. First she thought of the positive ones, the chance that Maud had a secret boyfriend or girlfriend.
*Yeah, fat chance of that. No offense to Maud, but I don’t think she’s even interested in anything like that.*
As she opened the door and entered, the bad scenarios came to the forefront of her mind as she couldn’t think of any other good ones. The grim reality that someone could have come here with the intent of using her against Pinkamena was the most prominent, she was sure there were plenty of people who had a grudge against The Syndicate who would try something like that.
Her fears were realized when she stepped into the living room, Maud standing in the center with a curved dagger to her throat and a hand firmly grasping her shoulder, wearing the same pajamas she had seen her in before. If it were anyone else, the fact that she had a completely despondent and almost blank expression on her face would have been disconcerting. However, since it was Maud, it actually had more of a calming effect. If she had been worried or scared and Maud was showing it, then the situation really was serious.
Even when she laid eyes on the culprit, it didn’t clear up the confusion in mind at who it was. She was a few inches taller than Maud, standing directly behind her with her head tilted so Pinkamena could see it. Her skin was a dark orchid, paired with a lighter rose hair that was in a thick, sharp mohawk.
It was hard for Pinkamena to see her body, but what she could see was heavily covered. She was wearing some kind of dense gray body armour, small azure symbols on her chest, shoulders, and knees she didn’t recognize. The areas that weren’t covered by the body armour were instead protected by a dark black bodysuit. Her feet were covered in steel toed boots, and her hands were covered in dark black gloves. It reminded her a lot of Juno, but more battle-heavy and less stealth focused.
The only part of her that was visible was her face, tilted back with her eyes half-lidded and a distinct scowl on her face, giving Pinkamena the feeling she was being looked down on. It pissed her off more than she already was, she clenched her fist and tightened her jaw as she struggled to hold herself back. The only thing about her that stuck out was a curved scar that went from her forehead to just under her right eye, like someone had tried to cut her and left a deep gash. Strangely enough, the scar wasn’t on her actual eye as it was undamaged, suggesting she at least closed her eyes whenever whatever caused that scar happened.
“I like your hair.” Maud stated, either oblivious or uncaring to the tension in the room.
“Who are you?” Pinkamena growled, taking a step closer to them.
As soon as Pinkamena inched forward, she pierced the skin of Maud’s neck with the tip of the blade, drawing blood that ran down the edge. Maud barely responded with more than a dreary blink, like the pain hadn’t even registered.
“Slow down and stay calm, as long as you do what I say, no one get’s hurt.” Her voice was cool and monotone, and more gravelly than any other woman she’d known.
“What do you want?”
“A lot of things, money, information, a cold bottle of scotch waiting for me at home.” Her tone was sardonic to the point of sounding like she was mocking Pinkamena, pulling the blade away from Maud and twirling it in a circle between her fingers, placing it against her neck just as quickly.
“However, right now the only thing I’m interested in is you.”
*Great, a crazy type, exactly what I needed.*
“So, what, you threatening my sister is your way of getting my attention?” Pinkamena asked with a coy smile, coiling her knees as slightly as she could to try to be unnoticed. She also hardened just the toes of her feet, if she could move fast enough and catch her off guard by just a second she could make it.
“You might say that, yes. Though it is much more like I think it was high time we met. If my sources are as consistently reliable as I expect them to be, you’ll need me as much as I’ll need you.”
Pinkamena didn’t like the way she said that. She glanced at Maud to see how she was doing, she had expected she’d be signalling her or something. Instead, she hadn’t moved at all since Pinkamena came in, that empty expression on her face and her arms hung limply to her side, the blood from the minuscule slice wound on her neck still running down the dagger.
Her instincts were telling her that there was something wrong here, she didn’t like anything about this entire situation. Maud had been trained by The Syndicate, there is almost no way she would have let herself be taken hostage without a fight, which there was no sign of in the room. Not to mention she wasn’t fighting back in the slightest, when it would have been very easy for her to. There weren't any signs of a break in either, bringing up the question on how this intruder got in without Maud noticing.
There were so many questions and so many things about this that irked her, but she needed to focus on saving her sister, she couldn’t live with herself if she lost another family member when she could have done something to stop it.
“You’ve certainly got my attention, but I’m a lot more inclined to rip your throat out than listen to anything you have to say. Putting a knife against the throat of one of the few people I care about is a bad way to get my trust, but a pretty damn good way to get yourself killed.”
She smirked almost sadistically at that, pulling the knife away from Maud’s throat by just a few inches. “That’s a good point. I ma-”
Pinkamena didn’t give her the chance to finish whatever she was saying, launching herself by the tips of her feet and closing the gap between them. Her eyes widened slightly as she tried to put the knife back against Maud’s throat, but before she could even finish making the motion, Pinkamena tightly grabbed her by the forearm, her claws digging into her body suit, and pulled it away from Maud.
She let go of Maud’s shoulder and grabbed Pinkamena by the throat, trying to choke her the best she could. She couldn’t get a good grip and was just barely squeezing her windpipe. Pinkamena slammed her other hand into her face, smashing her into the ground.
Maud causally stepped away from them like she was getting out of someone’s way on the street, blinking absurdly slowly and observing the fight happening before her.
Pinkamena pinned her left arm against the ground, pressing her knee against her chest to keep her on the ground. Pinkamena let go of her face, she was clearly dazed and likely had a concussion, but was still conscious and was grimacing up at her.
Pinkmena raised her right hand over her head, flexing her fingers as she prepared to slash her throat in one swipe, not wanting to give her the chance to hurt her family again. Right as she went to kill her, she felt a sudden force stop her swing.
She glanced back and saw Maud standing beside her, her hand around Pinkamena’s wrist.
“Stop, she’s a part of the Shadow Broker’s.”
“Shadow Broker’s?”
Pinkamena asked, turning back to the woman she was sitting on top of at the sound of a low chuckle. Her eyes were half-lidded again and she had a smug smile on her face like she knew something no one else did, still managing to give off an air of superiority despite being at a clear disadvantage.
“He didn’t tell you? Figures. I can already see you’re much more rash than the previous leader, Igneous would hav-”
At the mention of Igneous, and the flare of white hot rage that came with being compared to him, she applied more pressure to her forearm. The woman let out a sharp gasp and abruptly shut her eyes, accompanied with the distinct sound of cracking bone, she at least had a fracture.
“You come in here threatening my family, and then you mention that name in here? You must have some kind of death wish. I suggest you start talking, or I might just grant it for you.”
She opened her eyes and scowled, her right hand unclenching and letting the knife fall to the floor, her left arm laying on the ground beside her. “Shadow Brokers are an independent group of information gathers, meaning we aren’t aligned with anyone in particular, official or underground organizations. However, we have a...deal of sorts with The Syndicate. I believed it was time we had a discussion, but since you’ve been keeping yourself busy recently, I figured I would have to force a meeting between us.”
As she spoke, Pinkmena listened intently to her heartbeat, ignoring the adrenaline pumping through her veins and her bloodlust yelling at her to kill her. Her heartbeat remained stable, meaning she was either telling the truth, or she was a very good liar.
If she was telling the truth, and she was a part of some secret group of spies, it was even more likely that she was that good of a liar.
“Actually, I more or less have the day off. If you had just told Maud, I probably could have met with you. However, I’m questioning the legitimacy of your word since you decided to do that by holding my fucking sister hostage! If what you’re saying is true, you aren’t making a very good first impression.”
She tried to make the gesture of shrugging her shoulders, but winced at the pain in her arm like she’d forgotten it’d been injured. “She was never in any real danger, it was just a test. I wanted to see what kind of person you were. I talked to Maud and she agreed, I assure you, there was never a single time during which I would have done anything but scathe her.”
Pinkamena turned to Maud for confirmation, her dully colored sister curtly nodded, letting go of her wrist. Pinkamena’s body was telling her to take advantage of that and kill the intruder, but her mind knew doing that would likely permanently break Maud’s trust, if not down right traumatize her.
“I wanted to see what you’d do also. I always knew you had problems with self-control, I see that hasn’t changed.”
While Maud’s voice was as flat and emotionless as usual, Pinkamena had known her long enough to make out the disappointment masked beneath it. Hearing that from Maud hurt her in a way no physical wound could, but she couldn’t show that. Not here, not now.
She took a deep breath and rose off of her, letting go of her arm and extending a hand. She stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it with her right hand, ignoring the pain in her arm as she rose to her feet.
“Are you crazy? If Maud hadn’t been here, you would have lost your life!”
She looked down at her right arm, moving it around to test exactly what hurt and what didn’t. “If my life was enough, it’d go pretty damn well with the end result. Besides, I knew Maud wouldn’t let you kill me, the fractured arm is a bitch though.”
“I’ll get you something to wrap it with while I’m getting bandages for my cut, we’ll call it even for stabbing me.” Maud said blatantly as she walked out of the room, her eyes slightly narrowed and eyebrows furrowed in an almost scowl, which was the closest Pinkamena had ever seen her to actual anger.
She watched her walk out with a deep, sinking feeling of guilt. Ashamed of herself both because she had let Maud down, and she really had lost control of herself. Even if it was for just a moment, she should have been better than that, especially if that were a real situation where her life were in danger and the wrong move would have ended it.
*I....really need to talk to her later, and maybe re evaluate my entire life while I’m at it.*
Pinkamena took a deep breath and calmed herself down, her claws receding and her eyes going back to normal. She turned back to the woman with her hands on her hips, who’s eyes were examining her curiously with her head tilted to the left.
“Your hair changed color, and so did one of your eyes? Interesting.” She tried to walk forward, but suddenly stopped and hunched over with her hand against her face as she painfully grimaced, her other hand on the armrest of the couch to keep herself balanced. “Yep, that’s a concussion, great.” She said as she plopped down onto the couch, closing her eyes and taking slow breaths.
“Sorry about that, there’s not much I can do but tell you to avoid falling asleep for a while. Can you at least tell me your name?”
There was a slight smirk on her face as she peered up at Pinkamena, lowering both her arms to resting on her legs. “My name is Tempest Shadow, and I’m The Syndicate’s direct contact to The Shadow Brokers.”