The Coming Storm

by Jay911

Deeper

JULY 2

I woke up to incoherent murmuring from beside me.

I'd stayed with Swift overnight. She'd burrowed deep into her covers in her bedroom like a frightened child, so that the only thing I could see when I got there was a quaking futon. It would have been funny if I hadn't been scared just as witless as she was - the simple answer was that Jeff didn't descend the stairs, and I was caught between him and the roof. I was not going out onto the roof with that monster out there, so I stayed there with him and watched.

Of course there was no monster. What there was was a trio of black, unmarked and unlit aircraft, some 1500 yards south of us. They never gave any indication of paying any attention to us, never turned our way or so much as pointed a gun in our direction. But all three of us were rocked to the core with some kind of basic, primal need to get the hell away from those machines at any cost. Had I still bothered to wear clothes, I'd need new britches for sure.

What was it that frightened us so? I had no idea, and couldn't explain or rationalize it at all. It wasn't some animal fear of machinery - the fact we spent so much time using the SUV and the generators proved that, at least in my mind. Was I subconsciously scared of being seen as a pony, and accepting the pony lifestyle (as much as I was)? That only made sense (thinly) for me - it didn't hold water for the other two.

Speaking of which, Swift was still under her blankets and whimpering softly. I faced her and asked her quietly if she'd gotten any sleep.

"...nothing there... just goddamn empty... a hole... dark ...cold..."

I sighed and patted the blanket on what I thought was her back, between her shoulders, and let her be.

"Morning," I said when I found Jeff in the kitchen.

"Hi," he mumbled.

"You got anything in the first aid kits like maybe ZzzQuil for horses? I'm not sure she slept at all. I'm worried."

"I don't know if it'd work. If it does, tell me, so I can relax too."

I quirked an eyebrow at him and finally noticed he had bags under his eyes too. "Oh... sorry. I hope you don't think I didn't take it seriously because I was able to sleep. Trust me, it shook me up pretty badly. I guess I was just so tired that it won out over the fear."

He shook his head a few times, almost too many times, as if he was still out of it now. "It's okay." He didn't have anything more to say after that.

"I guess I'll make some breakfast and keep sitting with her," I said, taking out two bowls. "I want to be there when she comes out of it."

"Good plan," Jeff nodded. "I'm going to... I don't know, really. Putter around and tinker maybe. I don't really feel like going out for a drive right now."

"Let's skip today. None of us are in the right frame of mind. Just don't forget to feed Buddy, ok?"

"You got it."

"Come get me if you need anything." With that, I finished making breakfast, balancing the bowls along my spine between my shoulders, wings, and tailbone. It was kind of a proud moment, like if I was carrying plates of food like a restaurant server would without any training or skill.

I went back into Swift's room, setting one bowl down near her lump on the futon and taking another to my resting spot nearby. Munching away, I silently went over what had happened the day before.

After a while, she began mumbling again, and I got up and walked over to her. "C'mon, Swift. You either need rest or food. Do you want me out of here so you can sleep?"

Hooves darted out of the pile of blankets and grabbed mine, and a face with bloodshot eyes looked up at me. "No! But yes... Stay with me, please... until I sleep... when I sleep, she'll help me..."

I did my best not to jump out of my skin. Folding in my wings, I crouched down before her. "Who'll help you?" I asked.

Swift's eyes were darting back and forth. "Yes," she said, as if my question deserved a yes-or-no answer. "She will."

I looked at her for a long moment and lifted some bread, cheese, and lettuce out of her bowl. "If I make a sandwich, will you eat it? Then you can get your head down and let her... help you."

Swift focused on the food and studied it for a fleeting moment. "Okay," she nodded, still shaking and quivering.

"All right," I said softly, pulling my other hoof away to assemble the sandwich. While I was doing it, I kept an eye on her.

She frowned and looked like she was about to burst into tears. "Thank you," she said almost imperceptibly.

"It's okay," I smiled. "We're all okay. No big deal."

She kept herself low to the floor and chewed on the sandwich after I hoofed it over to her. I stayed on the ground with her, as promised.

"Who's going to help you?" I asked as she finished the meal, hoping it wouldn't cause another freakout.

Swift was still largely out of it, but she smiled and looked at me. "The princess," she said. "She comes to my dreams. Tells me everypony will be all right."

"The wha?" I balked.

"Thank you..." she said again, putting her head back down between her hooves. "Night night."

In a few moments, there was light snoring coming from the blankets. I hadn't pressed her for more info because I favored her rest and recovery more than deciphering this latest bombshell.

I tried to busy my mind with things that didn't involve what Swift had said, or what we had experienced the night before.

I miss baseball, I declared to myself. I wondered how I might swing a bat in this new form. My teeth ached just from the thought of holding a bat in my jaw and hitting a fastball.

Maybe I could get to SkyDome and run the bases - a longtime dream of mine; if we ever got our courage up to venture into the heart of the city. That didn't seem likely to happen any time soon, based on our experiences the night before.

Sighing, as my mind took me back to situations I wasn't eager to dwell on, I reluctantly reflected on it and what it meant for us.

We'd finally seen evidence of other survivors, and they didn't even seem to notice us. I suppose it could have been possible that our attempts to draw attention were too little too late. The other possibilities made my mind race.

One: They saw us and didn't deem us a priority. I suppose it was possible that whatever they were doing down at the nuke plant took precedence; if it was a choice between rescuing me and making the whole area safe by centering on the nuclear plant for a bit, hey, I've survived on my own - er, I mean, with my friends - for over a month; I can handle a few more days.

Two: There was no one there to see us.

What if the machines were some kind of automated, Terminator-esque setup, running on automatic after it determined that its operators had disappeared?

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, as if the crazy ideas would be sent scurrying back to whatever dark recess they came from. Now is not the time to be daydreaming about outrageous science-fiction theories.

...says the talking pegasus pony.

Still, all things considered, it was almost impossible that someone with that kind of advanced technology could not have noticed us. Besides all the lights we had running in a world plunged into darkness, we were emanating radio frequency energy - a fancy way of saying we were transmitting on a bunch of different frequencies, and constantly.

That thought gave me an idea, so I stood up, studying Swift for a second to ensure she was sleeping restfully if not peacefully, and left her room. The shoes Jeff had made us in his first few days with us - boots, really - ensured my departure didn't rouse my friend.

I went up into the radio room/spotting stand and climbed up the stairs, settling down in front of the radio. For several minutes, I just stared out the windows at the dead world before me, while I formulated what I was going to say. Finally, I put a hoof down on the mic button.

"Hello. Whoever you are, I am assuming you are government or military, and you'll have the ability to record this and play it back to your heart's content. You were at the..." I paused, wondering if I should mention the nuke plant, in case others were listening. Could these guys have enemies who would thwart whatever they'd done at the plant? Were these guys the enemies?

"...You made an excursion to a site very close to us last night," I went on. "We watched you from our base." I didn't know what else to call our new home, but that was for another time to decide. I also didn't make a comment on them scaring the pee out of us, however they made that happen. "There are three of us here. We've ... changed. We all used to be people from or visiting the local area, but on May 23 we found ourselves alone, with everyone else gone. As far as we know, we aren't ill, and we haven't found anyone else. At all. Not even bodies."

"If you're coming for survivors, you'll be able to spot us just north of where you flew to last night. If, for some reason, you're... not coming for us, if you can give us anything - advice, supplies, or even just an acknowledgment that you hear us and know we're here... we'll take anything we can get."

"We're monitoring this frequency 24 hours a day. ...Over."

When I let off the mic switch, a voice came from behind me relatively quietly. "Good job."

I turned to look at Jeff standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"I figured we had to acknowledge what happened last night somehow," I said, keeping one ear focused on the radio in case they answered right back.

"Couldn't help but notice you didn't mention, well, the unpleasantness."

"A, that's quite a way to put it, and two, how long were you listening?" I asked, standing up and coming down the stairs, after making sure the radio's volume was cranked so I could hear it anywhere in the store.

"When you started talking about the 'excursion'," he said. "I was over there-" he gestured to a pile of stuff we'd pushed out of the way ages ago "-seeing if we could make use out of any of that junk."

"Ah," I nodded. "You get any rest?"

He shrugged. "I've never really needed a lot of sleep. And when I need to relax, I tend to tinker."

"Gotcha. Just ... you did say earlier you wanted some down time."

"Noted. That I did. Let's just say that taking the day off from scavenging will fill that bill."

"Okay," I said. We were walking aimlessly through the store, through the random piles, racks, and stacks of merchandise still lying about. I decided to breach another subject that was nibbling at my brain. "When you do sleep, do you dream?"

"Uh... yeah? Don't we all?"

"Come on," I prodded. "Even the way you answered that tells me you know what I'm talking about."

Jeff sighed. "I wasn't sure if it was a by-product of the ponification. I'm still not sure it isn't. But yes, I do dream of a world of ponies."

"That's all three of us, then," I nodded. "If what Swift said about her dreams counts. Maybe 'the princess' is a creation of her mind she uses when she's stressed."

"That I can't comment on," Jeff said. "All I've seen is an idyllic countryside with all sorts of ponies coming and going. Villages full of them, living like we do, I mean in houses and having jobs and such. If it isn't just my subconscious trying to apply 'normal' dreams to my new form, then I wonder if it's not some kind of premonition."

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Like I said, everybody... or everypony as Swift would say, worked. There were mailponies, as in, delivering letters and such. One like you, in fact," he smiled, elbowing my wing. "And bakery ponies, and salesponies working in shops and markets, and farmer ponies, working in fields and orchards. The weird part was a lot of what they used seemed to have human origins. For example, at a coffee shop, mugs with handles." He waved a hoof before us as if to indicate the foolishness of that design.

"So, what... you think you saw the future?" I asked. "How Earth ends up? I guess it's good that you saw lots of ponies, but I presume that means that we all have to relocate and colonize somewhere."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Like I said, maybe it means something, maybe it's all BS my mind makes up to keep me sane." He looked over to me. "How about you? Your turn."

"Oh," I said, realizing I did indeed owe him an explanation of why I was talking about dreams. "I dreamt about ponies too. But mine were all in the clouds."

"Is that why you're so interested in them?" he asked, pointing towards the ceiling.

I nodded. "Kind of. You say you saw pegasi in your dreams... in my dreams, up in the skies, that's all I see. Pegasi only."

"Pony segregation," Jeff mused.

"I don't think it was like that," I responded. "More like, pegasi are the only ones who can live up there. I mean, we have wings-"

"You just said 'we'," Jeff smirked. "Are you going to say 'everypony' next?"

"Shut up," I mumbled, blushing and frowning. "Anyway, there was this whole city in the clouds. Kind of like your dream's village, I think, but I don't remember seeing anyone doing any specific jobs. It kind of had a Greco-Roman vibe to it, without the togas of course. Ponies were going around visiting and living their lives, but if they were working, they were doing jobs that aren't apparent, or at least not like I'm used to."

"Maybe their jobs are on other clouds," Jeff posited.

I turned on him, wings out. "Are you just humoring me?"

"Not at all," he said, holding up a hoof defensively. "Sorry, it was the first thought that came to me. My mouth was still engaged. Safety was off. Sorry."

I giggled a little. "It's okay, it's a plausible idea." I looked back towards the part of the store where our bedrooms were. "If you dream of ponies on Earth, and I dream of ponies in the sky, I wonder what our resident unicorn dreams of? Besides princesses."

"Maybe you can ask her, when she wakes up."

I nodded. "If she's not still upset. I want her to 'come down' on her own. I'm still not sure why she reacted worse than we did."

"Maybe it has to do with magic?" Jeff hazarded a guess. "Maybe she saw something that scared her."

"So the survivors in the black helicopters have magic? I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing."

"I was thinking that whatever sent us packing was some kind of ultra-high-tech fear inducer. I mean, you know how SWAT teams and riot squads have ... or had... weapons or devices that could make sounds so loud they'd hurt? Sending protestors and rioters away without having to beat them back or use rubber bullets or water cannons? Maybe 'They' have something that makes you want to code brown in your pants, and they used it on us last night so we'd stay away while they did their thing at the power plant."

"If they have that, it's stupid powerful," I said. "We're over a kilometer and a half away."

"Just tossing out ideas," he said. "Anyway, if you find out anything from Swift, let me know. I'm gonna go tinker some more."

"Okay," I said, smiling. "Thanks for the chat. See you at lunch, I guess." I turned at the next aisle and headed back towards the bedrooms.

I awoke with a start - not enough to poof my wings out, but I jerked my head up and looked around.

I'd huddled up beside Swift's futon again so I'd be there when she woke up. From the way she'd behaved before finally drifting off, I figured I owed her that much. And then, apparently I'd misjudged how tired I truly was, and dozed off myself.

Beside me were cast-aside blankets and an empty bed.

I got up and poked my head out the 'door', looking up and down the aisle. While I sought out my friend, I tried to recall if I'd dreamed while I was snoozing. Disappointingly, if I did, I couldn't recall anything about it.

I found Swift in the kitchen, rinsing our breakfast bowls in the sink, by hoof. She looked much better, but had a withdrawn look on her face, like she was deep in thought. Still, the twitch of her ears towards me told me I'd been detected.

"Hi," I said softly. "Feeling better?"

"Hi," she nodded in return, quietly. "Rested. Thanks."

"Of course," I said, coming to her side. I reached into the washtub and pulled out the other bowl, swishing the water around within it and then upending it back into the sink. I wanted to say something - anything, but I didn't know how fast to go, so I held off for the moment.

"Sorry about last n... this morning," Swift murmured.

"Nothing to be sorry about," I said, setting the bowl on the drying rack. "We were all freaked out."

Swift's shoulders jerked in a kind of a shrug as she laughed humorlessly, just one solitary 'hah'. "Freaked out's putting it mildly. I... have no idea what came over me."

I chose my next words carefully, after a moment's pause. "You said this morning that you felt there was nothing there, like an empty hole. What did you mean?"

She shivered, but kept it together. "Everything around us has magic in it." She looked at me. "Even you. Me. Jeff. Buddy. Everything living or not. You say you can 'see' air currents? I can 'see' magical energies... I guess that's the best way to put it."

I nodded. "I follow," I said, glad we had an analogy; it would make things easier to understand, seemingly.

"When I looked at those helicopters... all I 'saw' was a huge bubble of ...nothing. A magical void."

I chewed on that for a second. "What does that mean?" I finally asked.

She sighed. "I don't know. It could mean they're alien things that don't belong here. In our world, I mean. Were you a science fiction fan?"

I held up a hoof. "Live l... oh, shit, how can I do the Vulcan thing with hooves without fingers?"

Swift snerked and nudged my side with a smile. "Dummy. Maybe these guys are from a different dimension where physics works differently, and they don't fit in quite exactly right here. Or maybe we're the aliens to this dimension, and that's how we were transformed - we were adapted to this universe when we were transported here, but those guys, also from our world, have protection against this place, and it manifests like that, and rubs us - and this whole place - the wrong way."

"All valid theories," I agreed. I decided to break the news to her as gently as I could. "We... um... I... called out to them on radio this morning while you were sleeping. Asked them to get in touch with us and explain themselves. Haven't heard anything back yet, but I thought you should know."

Swift nodded, with not a frown or grimace but a flat, determined expression. "You're right. As much as it makes my hide crawl, we need to make contact with them."

I took the other bowl from her when she offered it, and said, "Couldn't help but notice you didn't use your magic to do this." I nodded to the bowl as I shook the last of the water from it and set it out to dry.

"I... guess I was a little afraid," she admitted. She took up a dish towel in her yellow glow and used it to dry my hooves. "Better?"

"Only if you say so," I smiled. "Thanks."

"Thank you," she said, leaning into me. "For staying with me all night, and standing guard over me. How I wish you were still... you know."

It was all I could do to keep my wings from sproing-ing out at full attention at that instant. "Urgh... trust me, I do too... but that ship sailed, sadly."

"I'm just playing with ya," Swift smiled, standing back up straight and looking at me. But I wondered how much of that was really true.

"A-anyway," I stammered, changing the subject, "I had something else I wanted to ask you about. If it's not too personal."

"What's that?" Swift said as we both moved to leave the kitchen area.

"When you were heading off to slumbertown, you mentioned a princess, and said she'd help you. Is that... something new?" I said, trying to find the right words. "Or is it something you use as a coping mechanism?"

Swift's pink coat turned a little pinker. "Um... it's new," she said tinily. "You'll think I'm being stupid."

"Excuse me?" I said, stepping sideways a little so I could flare out my wings as we walked side-by-side. "I'm a carrier for about 7 different kinds of stupid." Folding back up, I added, "Hit me. That is, if it's not too pers-"

She shook her head. "I don't mind sharing. But don't laugh."

"I promise," I nodded.

"I've been having these weird dreams. I mean, almost constantly. Every time I sleep. Well, not every night, but maybe every night I've been stressed. The night before you showed up? I had one. The night after I rescued you from the roof's edge, and learned I had magic? Another."

"There's a common thread there," I grinned wryly. "I'm apparently a bad influence."

"Hush," Swift shot back, elbowing me. It made me soar - emotionally speaking, of course - to see my friend coming back out of her shell, even if going back to her steadfast refusal to laugh at my corny jokes and self-deprecating humor was what came back first. "And last night, er, well, this morning."

"Before you go on," I said, "maybe I should tell you, in the interests of full disclosure, that Jeff and I dream of ponies in a weird pony world too."

I added the 'too' before truly knowing if it applied, but her look at me proved me right. "So... have you met the princess too?"

"Erm... no," I said. "Not that we've noticed. I think maybe you should explain that one yourself."

"You'd know her to see her," Swift said. "She's like the amalgamation of all the best qualities of the three of us. Our three races, I mean. Earth pony, unicorn-" she pointed a hoof to herself, then to me "-and pegasus."

"She's a unicorn pegasus?" I interrupted.

"Alicorn," she nodded. "That's what her kind is called. All princesses are alicorns."

I tried to process that for a second. "There's more than one?"

"So I've been told," Swift responded. "They're much taller than us, like maybe six feet or more. More like full horse size than we are. Or at least she is."

"And you've been talking with her?"

"A bit," Swift nodded. "The first time, I could just sense she was there. That first dream I told you about, the one from just before you got here. I was roaming around a featureless plain... feeling kinda hopeless. And I could sense some kind of godlike being watching over me, and got a vibe that everything would be all right."

I said nothing, letting her continue.

"The next time was after my magic woke up, after you nearly fell off the roof. I saw her that time, and she actually approached me. She's this dark royal blue color, and her mane... how do I describe it? ...it's a starfield. Her mane and tail shimmer and wave and look like I'm staring into deep space. Her horn is way longer than mine, probably twice its size."

I laughed, grinning. "Horn envy? Who's the guy now?"

Swift facehoofed. Wait, what did I just say? Ah hell, you know what I mean. "Shut up. Her wings put yours to shame too."

"Ow. Low blow."

"You deserved it. Anyway, she has a butt picture of the moon on a black background. Space, I guess. Fits her name... Luna."

"Princess Luna?" I echoed.

Swift nodded. "Princess of the Night. And I guess she's a dreamwalker or something."

I had a small BSOD at that. When I recovered, I said: "She exists?"

"Yes!" Swift responded. "What, you thought I was making her up?"

I tried to verbally backpedal. "Hang on, now, I said earlier I didn't know if it - she - was a coping mechanism or what. Listen, I'm buying what you're selling. Go on."

She took a moment to compose herself. "All right. As I was saying... the princess can enter anypony's dreams. And interact with them. Or so I gather, from my experiences with her. She doesn't actually speak of her world that much."

"So she's in a different world? Not this one? I mean, we're not supposed to be on a mission to find Luna here, right?"

"I don't think so. If that is the plan, she hasn't said so. Let me finish."

"I'll shut up until you're done," I said. "Sorry."

"The second time I encountered her was after I learned magic. I was dreaming of all the things I could do with the ability to just wish things up with a spell. Levitation, telekinesis, teleportation, the whole lot. She came to me and congratulated me on learning so quickly, and wanted to know how I got there. So I told her - about catching you, I mean. She said it was theorized that skills might awaken from dormancy due to a high-stress situation. She said I'd need it - the skill - where our world was going, and urged me to practice every chance I got." Swift gestured to me, then her. "Same thing we agreed on the next day. Then she said she had to go, that lots of ponies... no, wait... lots of 'her little ponies', were her exact words, needed her counsel. And then she vanished, and I woke up."

"And today? Did you get to see her today?"

"Not at first. I guess I can't just summon her like I was thinking I might. Maybe I needed to be lucid dreaming and invent something like the Bat-Signal. Maybe a Luna-Signal. Anyway. I found myself living a nightmare, being chased by people - not ponies, people - with guns that could fire anti-magic. The field that made us all crazy last night."

I nodded and leaned into her for (her) comfort.

"Thanks. I guess Princess Luna must have seen that I was in trouble, because suddenly I dreamt that she arrived and took me to an ethereal plane far away from the bad guys. Again she said she couldn't stay, but let me speak this time. I told her what had happened and that I'd been dreaming of her world all the time. She said that part was understandable, but didn't explain why. She seemed troubled by the mention of the helicopters, but other than telling me to keep a wide berth, she said they were probably nothing to worry about. She said that she and 'her agents' were working to make things right, and we should keep doing what we're doing. Said we would prevail if we stuck together and depended on one another. That that's 'the pony way'. And then she was gone again."

I was left speechless. I honestly didn't know what to say. Finally I uttered, "So is that why you talk like you do now?"

"It kinda makes sense, doesn't it?" Swift smiled.

"This is huge," I exclaimed. "But I'm not sure how to break it to Jeff that we've solved the mystery of what happened based on your dream."

"We haven't come close to solving anything," Swift countered. "All we've got is a pony princess telling us to buck up and be strong and everything will be all right. The why, we haven't even scratched the surface on that one yet."

"Alien pony race reshaping us into their own image?" I said. "Colonization is my guess."

"I'm not so sure," Swift shook her head. "The princess talked about her world and 'our world' more than once. She took care to talk as if the two were separate. I don't think a conqueror would behave like that."

"Maybe we need an audience with the king or queen instead," I said. "See if you can set that up next time."

Swift made a face with a half-smirk and batted at me with a hoof. "Stop making fun of my dreams!" she playfully scolded.

"Ow. Maybe you should call me Punching Bag. NowaitforgetIsaidthat!" I hurried to correct myself, while she laughed.

"Ohhh, what a couple of days," she sighed, and looked like she shed a load of stress all at once.

"Thanks for sharing all that with me," I told her. "I hope it helped."

"I think so," she nodded. "Thanks for being there, Stormy."

It was my turn to sigh and shake my head with a smile. I guess I was saddled with that moniker now. "So. Any thoughts on what we should do about last night's visitors?"

"Far as I'm concerned, they can stay wherever they went to," Swift shivered. "I could do without that feeling ever coming back."

"I understand," I agreed. "But I did put out a radio call to them. What if they answer?"

Swift mulled it over for a moment. "I think that depends on their answer, don't you?"

"Good point," I nodded. "I presume what Luna told you ... and for that matter what any of us saw in our dreams... is privileged information? Not to be shared?"

"Absolutely," Swift agreed with fervor. "Let's keep that under our hats for now. We still have no idea who's good and who's bad on this playing field."

"True." I looked around for a clock; we'd left bunches of them all over the store, set to the correct time, since nobody was carrying watches or phones any more. It was late in the midafternoon, and I said as much to Swift. "We, Jeff and I, decided to write off today's scavenger hunt, so there's nothing on the schedule today."

Swift smiled. "When I was at home, before Ponification, and didn't feel like working, I sat on the couch and ate peanut butter and saltine crackers all day, flipping through random TV channels."

I let out a little laugh. "I can't give you TV, but I bet we still have some crackers that've kept. But you have better dexterity than me-" I gestured to her horn "-so you get to tear the little packets open and spread the peanut butter."

She laughed back and hoof-bumped me. "Deal, Stormy."

Author's Note:

I've been able to churn out a lot during my two weeks summer vacation from work. I'm not abandoning this, but my update process might begin to slow a little when I return to my job on Monday. Never fear, there will be more!

Comments

[Celefin]

Brilliant description of the effect of the HPI's magic shielding, seriously. Poor Swift, that definitively hurt.
Also, dreamwalker Luna, like briefly mentioned in LPoE... really nicely fleshed out.
Also a neat idea to try and actively send a radio message to the HPI. Punching Bag's prolific use of her radio skills is great and really is a driving factor of this story. The radio isn't just 'something survivors do, whatever', it's pivotal to everything. That really works.
And... *drumroll* CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. *swoon*
This is now officially my by far favourite side story and you only having 22 likes for this is a travesty. This is of better quality than many things I've paid money for to read.
Alright, I'll dial down the fan-ing.

Never fear, there will be more!

Never stop! Take your time, but never stop.

[Jay911]

6188567

Just hope it's far enough away from the grocery section when all the meat there does go bad.

Now I have a vision in my mind's eye of a pony trying to make an N95 mask work. i.imgur.com/Sq4QphA.jpg

6192555

I get the sense this story is building towards something concrete. I hope I'm right.

I have to admit that I have ideas for the end of the story (and less so for between now and then), but that I do have some bits yet to be dreamed up. I hope to have my muse chewing on some ideas (and doing brave battle with writer's block) in the ensuing days/weeks.

One of the things I struggle(d) with was the day-by-day storytelling (not the same as the daily posting regimen - I'm talking about storyline now). Years ago for a different fandom, I played with the concept of a story based around a concept called The Hundred Day War, wherein I was going to write at least a few paragraphs for each of those 100 days (plus one or two on each end). I think if I recall correctly I got to 58 days before I really started to have trouble making things work. I should dig it up and see if I can get some inspiration from how the younger me wrote (or more precisely how the younger me smashed fists on the keyboard and pretended it was decent writing).

Quite frankly, I'm satisfied if you all are entertained.

[Celefin]

6194336

Now I have a vision in my mind's eye of a pony trying to make an N95 mask work.

Hmm... find a dedicated riding supplies shop and use some of your character’s ingenuity?
http://www.theponytackshop.co.uk/for_pony/pony_care_stable_equipment/hy_grazing_muzzle_grazing_mask

I hope to have my muse chewing on some ideas (and doing brave battle with writer's block) in the ensuing days/weeks.

Jot everything down that comes to your mind , no matter where you are? That's what usually helped me when I was writing (years back, regrettably, with one exception). Having a whole list of stuff to juggle around after a while made those jumps easier and made room in the head for new ideas.

I don't think you necessarily need a day-to-day tale after the first extremely hectic survival set-up is done. A few days or a week between should be fine every now and then, no? Day to day is fun of course, just isn't absolutely vital to this story.

Quite frankly, I'm satisfied if you all are entertained.

As entertained as ponily(?) possible.
I'll just keep spamming you with overly long comments in the meantime :b

[LunaRisen-Web_System]

Soooo... awesome...

[Starscribe]

No response from the HPI it seems, which might not be surprising. Might not be if I knew the date. I don't, so I can only speculate. I do wonder what Luna thought about anti-magic helicopters that she didn't mention them in the meeting with Lonely Day in August...

Don't give up! You've got a lovely story here, one of my favorites right now. I look forward to riding along wherever it ends up.

[Celefin]

6203657 According to what you set as canon the HPI can't talk to ponies until the 27th of July, otherwise they'd know that ponies aren't just animals, is that right?. 'Deeper' takes place on the 2nd of July, so that might explain that.

On the other hand, they might contact our protagonists here but fire on them when they see them due to their 'pre 27th shoot on sight policy' you established, thinking that the survivors' shielding was overwhelmed by the presence of the three ponies and the 'three inside alive' are dead.
Come to think of it, that's actually rather dark.

[ThePrinceOfTheNorth]

Hooves darted out of the pile of blankets and grabbed mine, and a face with bloodshot eyes looked up at me. "No! But yes... Stay with me, please... until I sleep... when I sleep, she'll help me..."

I would make a crack about how, in a horror movie, this is the part when a protagonist dies, but.....too late. But if that seriously isn't waking up on the wrong side of the bed, then I have no goddamn idea what the hell is! Can't even being to imagine how bad her mane looks.

It was all I could do to keep my wings from sproing-ing out at full attention at that instant. "Urgh... trust me, I do too... but that ship sailed, sadly."

That may be, but I don't think it'll stop the fans.

[Helium]

Neat. I had a feeling something was up with swift. Those ponyisms had to come from somewhere. Like with cloudy.