Cigs and Strings.

by Sleestack

Cider.

My strings hang below me, just barely reaching the the ground. I attempt to stretch them to touch the white, matter-less floor, but they just barely graze the surface, leaving me unable to plant them into the ground to spread my influence like roots. If I had bones, they’d be aching, and my muscles would be sore in the same respect. My direction turns to my host, my cattle, and I slowly glide through the vacuum towards him. I lift my tendrils and place them delicately on his shoulder, feeling his warmth resonate through me. It’s a shame I can’t simply suck his life force like some demons can, but I’m not one to complain.

He didn’t take notice of me, but instead kept his eyes on his typewriter as he twirled his lit cigarette between his fingers. The fiery red end occasionally made contact with his skin, searing the flesh and getting ashes into the wound, but he was so dead to any feelings in his fingertips by now that no emotions showed on his face as the hiss of burning skin echoed through the nothingness that was the void we currently resided in.

“So, what are w-w-we writing now?” he asked.

“I have a weird idea,” he answered to himself.

He tilted his head in curiousity. “How weird? Like, on a scale of one to ten. Actually, no, on a scale of A-Z. That’s a more comprehensive weird scale if y-you ask m-me.”

“Eight.”

“No, I-I said A-Z.”

“I know. And the answer is Eight.”

He cautiously put the cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag of it.”Okay, I-I’m listening…” he said, smoke forming small pillars in the air as he spoke.

“MLP fic.”

At this suggestion, he recoiled out of panic and turned his head so he could see me, a black mass of tendrils that hang in the air as if suspended by water.

My tendrils shrink from the pain of the idea. He always knew I hate it when he wrote about those cursed creatures. Usually I could convince him not to write about it unless it had at least some element of fear or sadness for me to feed off of. Unfortunately for me, though, he refused to write about the things killing each other. He said something about it being too ‘cheap’ to try and write a violent story about tiny horses, whatever that means.

“MLP? But, w-we don’t have any good ideas what to do with that, do w-we?”

He raised his cigarette to his lips again and held them there and ran his fingers through his dark hair, sighing. “I have a few ideas. Tell me, of the Main Six-”

“Isn’t it Mane Six?”

He put the cigarette down and gave himself a disapproving look.

“Sorry, sorry...”

“Anyway,” he brought it up to his lips again and took a drag, short this time. “Of the Main Six, which two would be the most compatible?”

My strings curl up on themselves. He grits his teeth.

“Now, when y-you say ‘compatible,’ do you mean like, color scheme? Cause if that’s the case, orange and blue are complimentary colors, so I’d probably have to say-”

“No, no, you know what I mean. Which two would be the most compatible in a relationship?”

My strings move towards his neck.

“Now, when y-you say ‘relationship,’ do y-you mean like, business partners? Sisters? Scuba diving team? Cause if it’s last one, just about everyone would have to agree that the most obvious answer would be-”

“No, I mean dating. Life partners. Soul mates, if horses have souls. Girlfriends.”

“Don’t you mean marefriends?”

He squinted his eyes at himself. “Tell me, what’s a mare?”

“Uh, a female po-”

“A female horse? So, like, a girl horse? A horse that is a girl?”

“Yeah-”

“So they can be called girlfriends.”

I wiggle my strings into one the pores of his skin and inject a little essence of pain into his blood. Half of him began to squirm, while the other half simply brought the cigarette up to where I burrow into his skin and placed the hot ember against me. It burned, so I have to pull out. The bastard. He knows I’m too weak right now to resist.

“Like I was saying, I’m thinking romance. Good old horse romance. That’ll turn out well with the readers, right? They love reading about horses making out, it’s a scientific fact.”

“Oh, okay. Who were y-you thinking about writing about?”

He set the cigarette down on the ashtray he keeps next to the typewriter, and moves his hands to the keys. “Okay, picture this,” he says as he starts typing. “A-Jack and R-Dash are sitting in A-Jack’s barn, and between the two of them, a single bottle of cider...”

---

The glass stood there, filled to the brim with the frothy, sweet smelling liquid that she would often wait for days in a crowded line for. Yet, here it was, laying idly about for her to grab at any moment.

“What’s the catch?” asked Dash.

“The catch,” responded AJ, “Is that you can only have a shot when I have a shot. And you can’t refuse a shot if I take a shot.”

Dash smiled, holding back an amused laugh. “That’s it? We go one for one? Easy!” She picked up the glass. “You’re going down.”

AJ smirked. “Gimme back that glass. I go first, then you take one. Got it?”

“Wait wait wait,” Dash objected, placing it back on the table. “We’re sharing a glass?”

“Yeah? What, is there something wrong with that?”

"Isn’t that how you get germs, or something?”

AJ tilted the glass straight up, sending it on a straight shot from her mouth into the pits of her stomach. She gave a brief shudder, and slammed the glass back down. “Germs can’t live in alcohol, dummy.” She laughed. “And ‘sides, what’s a little spit between friends?” She pulled a full bottle of cider from underneath and filled the glass all the way back up.

Dash chuckled along with her nervously as she reached for the glass. She liked getting drunk alone and in groups, but never with just another pony. It was just boring enough for her to wish she were with more ponies, but awkward enough for her to wish she was alone. It was almost a lose-lose. And if it weren’t for the fact the cider was really darned good, she would have bowed out right then and there. She raised the glass to her lips and downed it.

As she felt the burn of the alcohol slide down her throat, the reality of the situation hit her. She was a lightweight, fitting along with the pegasus stereotype perfectly. AJ made the stuff, and almost definitely had a high tolerance. Wait, what was that comment about spit?

AJ pulled the glass towards her and began to pour, but didn’t drink. She sighed and looked around the barn, mostly empty now. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” She smiled.

Dash looked towards the opening of the barn which would have revealed the starry night sky, but instead, just showed wood. “Uh, AJ, the window’s closed...”

“I mean, I saw a bit of it earlier. Sure was pretty.”

Dash raised an eyebrow.

AJ suddenly became very quiet, still moving her mouth, as if she were saying something that she didn’t want anyone to hear. She looked down at the bottle with sad eyes. She looked back up at Dash, with an obviously forced smile upon her face now. “Just trying to start a little friendly conversation, don’t mind me.”

Dash twisted her head and backed away from the pony across the table from her. She considered AJ to be one of her more down-to-earth friends, but now she was talking about the sky when she couldn’t even see it. She looked down at the full glass. “Aren’t you gonna drink that?”

“What? No, I’m... I’m gonna let it sit for a bit.” She stared at her reflection in the frothy substance. “You know, just to let it breathe.”

“Don’t you let wine breathe?” Dash asked.

AJ rolled her eyes. “Dang grape drinks, think they’re so much better than all the other liquors. If wine had a face, I’d punch it. I’d punch it right in the face.”

Dash stared for a few seconds before the thoughts in her head started to align into a reasonable conclusion. “AJ, did you drink before I came here?”

AJ looked as if she had just been accused of tramping a foal. “What? No! I just opened this bottle when we came in here! You saw me do it!”

Dash shook her head. “No, I mean, did you drink something else before we came here?”

AJ picked up the glass and dowed it. “What if I did? How’s that any of your business?” She picked up the bottle and began to pour. “Your turn,” she said, practically shoving the glass to Dash’s side of the table.

Dash stared at the small glass. The room wasn’t spinning yet, which was usually a good sign. She had at least another two shots in her.

She lifted the glass with both hooves, a gesture that even she admitted was for lightweight eggheads, and brought the liquid up to her lips.

Taking a breath of the strong fumes, Dash’s eyes rolled up in her head and she tilted the glass back, much too slowly, causing herself to choke on the flavor. She coughed and sent a few drops into the air, most landing on the table. A single solitary one did land on AJ’s nose, though. Dash gagged the few remain gulps and set the glass down, hooves outstretched apologetically towards her friend.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” she called out, unsure if she should stand or not.

AJ retained a neutral expression for a few seconds, and then let a single chuckle out. Dash held perfectly still, waiting for a stronger reaction, until she realized there wasn’t one. She did notice that her left hoof was raising against her will, and the room felt larger than before. She should have eaten something before this.

“Havin’ a little trouble there, Dash?” AJ asked, the hint of a smile on her face. Something in her voice had come out that wasn’t there before. It made Dash’s mane stand up on end. It was an almost electric feeling, and Dash was only somewhat sure she liked it.

“I, uh, I…” Dash found herself stuttering. She hoped it was the alcohol. “I breathed in at the wrong time.”

“You and your silly breathing.” What was that? Something in the way she spoke, how her eyes stayed half closed, how she teased and taunted with her playful words. Dash hated this feeling, but at the same time, loved it. She need another drink.

“Your turn.” She pushed the glass across the table, and AJ stopped it by placing her hoof on top, and then poured some cider into it. She lifted the glass up to her collarbone, and then set it down. “Actually, I think you still look a little thirsty. You didn’t get a full drink last time.” She slid it across the table, back at Dash.

Dash picked up the glass and downed it without hesitation. Wait, why did she do that?! It was almost as if AJ had hypnotized her into doing it. The room was tilting from side to side now.

“Mmm, barely burns any-nymore.” Dash’s speech was already starting to slur. That’s it. She could take no more. She pushed the glass over to AJ again. Dash pressed her hooves against the table, trying to maintain any balance she could.

AJ couldn’t help but giggle. “I suppose I owe you a drink after that.” She filled the glass once again, but kept it on the table, merely running her hoof along the edge. Dash watched the hoof go in its circular pattern, and she couldn’t help but imagine AJ accidently slipping the tip of her hoof in, then having to lick the drop of cider off slowly...

“Dash, would you say it’s dishonest to keep a secret?”

“What? I thought we already had, like, a whole episode on this.” Dash said, her tongue feeling slightly too large for her mouth. “And b-besides, wouldn’t you know the most about honesty n’ stuff? Cause like… you ARE that?”

AJ set her hooves on the table and looked at her sternly. “Listen, Rainbow Dash, you’re the element of Loyalty, and I need you be that more than ever right now. You need to make sure that nothing I say right now leaves this barn, got me?”

Dash’s eyes widened out of surprise.“Oh, uh, yeah, of course.”

Applejack let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, you’re the Element of Loyalty, and I’m the Element of Honesty, but... I’ve been keeping a secret from y’all for a while now.”

Dash leaned in, her brain already trying to think of what kind of secret the farm pony could be hiding from her friends. She almost fell over. The possibilities were endless, she realized. It could literally be anything that she didn’t already know about her friend. She could have killed somepony. She could have robbed a bank. She even could have been gay. Wait, no… wait, sure. Wait...

“For the past few months, I...”

“You’re pregnant!” Dash shouted before she had time to think, the force of her voice being so powerful that it knocked her back in her chair and onto the hay covered ground of the barn. “You’re pregnant and Twilight is the mother!”

Applejack stood up and leaned her head to the side of the table, so she could stare at Rainbow with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. “That’s not possible, and it even if it was it wouldn’t be likely.”

“Theeeeeeen your farm is going out of business!” Dash shouted from the ground. “You’re sick with a disease and you’re dying!” She thrashed around on the ground until somehow she found herself back on her hooves. “Just tell me!”

“Calm yourself down, first!” AJ yelled at her, which prompted Dash to sit down obediently. AJ rolled her eyes. “Listen, I ain’t dying, I ain’t going bankrupt, and Twi didn’t cast no magic spell on me involving foal-making, got that?”

Dash nodded fervently, eyes wide and ears open.

AJ stared at her for a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to blurt something else stupid out, then sighed. “Well, recently, I think there’s been a mixup in the mail, cause, well, I’ve been receiving some... things in the mail that I certainly didn’t ask for, and I’m fairly certain no one else in my family would ask for, or at least, I hope not, because that would shake up my view of the house I was raised in in a way I really don’t want to think about-”

“Skip to the part with the reveal, please.” Dash slurred. AJ was her best friend, but man that girl could ramble sometimes. Wait, what was ‘man’?

“Okay, geez!” AJ huffed. “Okay, well, recently, I’ve been getting a magazine I’ve never subscribed to...”

“Liar’s Monthly?” Dash chirped in. “Unicorn Supremacy Zine? Pears Monthly?” She wasn’t sure if any of those were real magazines, but they all sounded like something AJ would have no business reading.

“...Playmare.”

Dash’s cheeks could feel her cheeks turn a bright red. And now that she thought of it, because she was blue, the blood flowing to her cheeks really should have made them purple, which was odd. “Is... is that the magazine that has naked purples?” she asked.

AJ growled in frustration. “I already told you, me and Twilight ain't never-”

“Stallions! I mean stallions!”

“-oh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s the one.”

An awkward silence floated between the two of them. Dash had a very specific flashback to flying school when a few of her friends said, probably lying, they had found a Playmare under their mother’s bed. Then she remembered when she had went to a sleepover where she saw the seductive eyes of a stallion with his tail facing towards the camera underneath a couch. She wasn’t sure if that moment traumatized her, but she knew that if 'traumatized' had meant ‘made her feel kinda grossed out and uncomfortable,' then she was traumatized as she could be. Now of course, being older, the sight of one of the magazines probably wouldn’t phaze her as much, but... wait, what was going on?

“Dash? Dash, you still with me, girl?” AJ said, waving her hoof in front of Dash’s face.

Dash shook head and nodded at the same time. “Yeah! I was just... why have you been keeping this a secret? I mean, it’s not- it’s not like anybody would care. You didn’t order it, did you? It’s the mailing place’s mistake.”

AJ sighed. “Cause I still have them all.”

Dash recoiled at this fact and her voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Have you been-?”

“NO!” AJ’s scream echoed throughout the barn. Dash stared, starting to frown. “I mean, I kept the first one, cause, I thought it was a one time mistake, y’know? It’d be kind of wasteful to throw it out, and I could give it as a present or something. But then the next one came, and the next one... soon, I had a pile of them that was too big to move from the basement without someone seeing. And there’re so many... so many... of THEM, just staring at me, I can’t even lift the box. It just-” she shuddered.

Dash nodded, remembering her own personal trauma. “Didn’t you just try closing the box?”

“I can’t! I can’t even get anywhere near it! It’s just so... so dirty! I mean, if someone did look at those types of magazines, I don’t judge them or anything, but I just can’t bring myself to even get near the things!” She shuddered and held out her hooves as if pushing away an imaginary box. “That’s the reason I had you come over tonight.”

Dash slumped slightly. “Oh...” She straightened back out. “Wait, why? I don’t think I caught that part.”

“Well, I needed somepony I could trust, and somepony who wouldn’t be tempted to steal those magazines to get rid of them someplace nopony would see them.” AJ explained.

Dash nodded. “Alright, I can do that. I’ll take them to a cloud on the far edge of Equestria, where no- wait, I won’t be tempted? What’s that supposed to mean?”

An awkward silence floated between them.

Suddenly and inexplicably, the whole barn caught on fire.

Comments

[Sheendough]

I don't get it. Maybe the next chapter will explain?