Chapter 16
Chapter 16
The technicians watched as the two missionaries slobbered away over their salt licks. The trip through the machine had left them in need of nutrition.
“So, uh,” said one of the technicians, “why’s there a horner? And why aren’t we turning them both into the general?”
“Quake’s cool with us!” White shouted.
“Well, he tolerates us...” added Scroll.
“I think he’s one of them missionaries,” said the second technician.
“Missionaries?”
“That’s right!” called Brother White. He stood up. “My name is Brother White, and I...” He took another lick, “...Am with the Fraternity of the Joyous Friends of Princess Celestia! This is my friend, Brother Scroll.”
“Hi,” said Brother Scroll.
“But...” said the first technician, “he’s a horner.”
“What’s that?” asked White, looking at the machine.
“This?” said the second technician. “It’s our water thing.”
Scroll stopped licking, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Thing?”
“Why doesn’t horner over there tell us?”
“Y’know, you’ve said that three times,” sighed White. “I just told you my name.”
The first technician silently examined White; soaking wet and slobbering over a salt lick, but still asking to be respected. The technician snorted.
“Fag...” he muttered.
“So, uh,” said Scroll, looking over at the machine. “This is where your water comes from?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” said the second technician. “Also makes salt blocks. Damn thing only works when it likes, though.”
“And it’s made by unicorns?” asked Scroll. He shoved the salt lick in his mouth, stood up, and walked over to the machine. “Hhh,” he said, spitting the block out again. “Never seen anything like this. It, uh, it takes ocean water and makes it drinkable?”
“When it works,” grunted the technician. “And then when it doesn’t, I kick it. That doesn’t usually help.”
“You have any idea what’s wrong with it?”
“Nope.”
“Huh...” Scroll licked at his block. “Well, I don’t know about this, this exact thing, but these things are usually either a mechanical failure or a magical failure.”
“Magical failure?”
“Yeah.” Scroll nodded. “Y’see, these machines all run off of unicorn magic. They get built, and a unicorn puts an enchantment on it that makes it do its thing. Like a refrigerator - you build an insulated box, and then the unicorn puts a spell on it that makes it cold.”
“Okay, so...” the technician looked around. “What do we do?”
“Well, you could find a unicorn who can fix it,” shrugged Scroll.
“What about him?” asked the first technician, shoving White forward. “We got a horner.”
White stumbled a little. “Four times...” he muttered.
“Doesn’t work that way,” said Scroll. “You need a unicorn who knows a ‘turn-salt-water-into- fresh-water’ spell. And Brother White,” he emphasized, “only knows tooth spells and stuff like that. If it’s a mechanical failure you just have to open it up and see if anything’s broken.”
“We’ve tried that,” said the second technician. “Nothing works.”
“Well, then you need a unicorn who can fix it,” Scroll said.
“Well, if this faggot can’t fix it, what’s the point of him being around?” the first technician sneered.
White took a lick from the salt block. “I can tell I’m not wanted here,” he said, turning to leave. “I’ll leave Brother Scroll to help you with your machine. He’s smarter, anyway...”
“Wait up!” Scroll called, running after him. “If my friend isn’t welcome, I’m not welcome.”
“Figures they both are,” muttered the technician. “They both came out of the pipe together. Figures they both, uh, take it up the pipe together.”
His partner turned to him. “Will you just shut up sometime so you don’t sound like a fucking idiot?”
___________
White closed his eyes, letting the water from the showerhead wash over him.
“White, could you pass over the soap?”
“Oh, sure.”
White took the soap from the holder and floated it over to Scroll, who sat down and took it in his hooves. White, meanwhile, squirted some shampoo into his mane.
“Okay, so, doors again today,” said White. “I think we should plan our approach in advance a little.”
“Umm,” Scroll thought as he lathered himself up. “Yeah, okay.”
“Let’s practice. I’ll pretend that I’m knocking on your door, and you pretend to be the occupant. Ahem...” White cleared his throat.
“But I dunno...”
“Oh, it’s easy,” said White. “You just gotta get in character. Just imagine yourself: you’re an earth pony here on Earthquake Island. You’re doing something, and then there’s a knock on your door.”
“Okay,” said Scroll, “so I open the door...”
“Hello,” said the unicorn, “my name is Brother White.” Scroll stood there for a few seconds, thinking.
“Uhhh, fuck you?” They stared at each other for a few more seconds as the running water fell around them. “Sorry, I was just trying to imagine myself as, um...”
“Yeah, let’s just, uh, talk about our apprbb,” White stuck his head into the running water, letting it rinse through his mane. Scroll tried to stand up, which got a little difficult due to the tight space. White had to move to the side to accommodate his partner.
“Well, so far,” said Scroll, standing in the stream of water, “we’ve tried knocking, reading selections, asking them nicely, bringing pie...”
“And none of that has worked.”
“How about we try leaflets?” suggested Scroll. “That way we don’t even need to knock. Just get a bunch of fliers and put them on doorsteps.”
“That could work.” White nodded. “You pass me the soap?”
“Uhh...” said Scroll.
“What?”
“I kinda dropped it.”
“You-” White took a step and his hoof went right onto the bar. His leg slipped out from under him. “Woah!” he yelled as he stumbled, falling right into Scroll. Scroll, in turn, fell down under him.
“We’re gonna drown!” squealed Scroll. Then, as if on cue, the water shut off. “Oh. I guess not.”
White carefully got up, making sure to replace the offending bar of soap into its holder. “Alright, now for breakfast...”
The two Brothers exited the cramped shower stall, taking their towels and drying off.
“But that worked,” said White as he lifted his brush. “We both shower together, we both get clean before they shut it off.”
“And we don’t use as much water,” Scroll said, cleaning his glasses. “So, I think today is toast day.”
“Sounds good,” nodded White. He dragged the brush through his mane, making sure it was neat, straight, and clean. Even if the rest of the town was unconcerned with hygiene, that was no reason that Brother White couldn’t be proper and presentable.
“You’re an asshole, Quake.”
The two Brothers stopped and listened. They didn’t recognize that voice.
“Funny, you never said that to me when you were here, you little pussy,” said a voice that they did recognize. Scroll adjusted his glasses before the two of them slowly walked out of the bathroom and peaked into the main room of the mission house. General Quake was there, accompanied by his two lieutenants. However, there was somepony else there as well: a white unicorn with a blond mane and a gold star for a cutie mark. The two ponies were glaring at each other with similar expressions of distaste. Quake’s eyes flicked in the direction of the missionaries. “Figures,” he muttered, “with how long you were in there.”
“Hi...” said White. “Are you here for the free breakfast?”
The other unicorn turned and saw them. “He’s here,” he said, before stepping away and apparently vanishing.
“Huh?” asked White.
What the missionaries saw next made them both jump back in fright.
Where the other unicorn had been standing, another unicorn appeared. It was a very tall stallion, his coat a deep shade of purple. On his flank there was the image of a golden crown.
“General Monarch,” said Brother White.
“Ah,” said the unicorn general, facing him. “Brother White, if I remember correctly?” The general had a deep voice, and he liked to draw out every word he said, as though he were savoring the syllables.
“Yes,” said White. His tone was not quite as high as it usually was, and he didn’t carry that beaming smile like he usually did. He’d met general before, in his first week on the island, during the sneak attack before the pegasus raid.
“Aaaaaaand General Quake,” said the unicorn, turning to the scowling earth pony general.
“Fuck, I hate the way you talk,” Quake growled.
“Wait,” said White, “not that I’m complaining, but... you aren’t shooting each other?”
“Oh, they aren’t going to waste bullets,” said Monarch, his voice full of smug self-satisfaction. “Even they aren’t dumb enough to attack a hologram.” He nodded below him, where there was small glowing device on the floor. Scroll hadn’t pointed it out because he had been staring.
“That horn...” he said.
“Wait until you see what I can do with it,” Monarch smirked. Scroll stammered a bit and his face turned red.
“What’s the deal here?” asked White.
“I just remembered our last meeting,” said Monarch, “and wondered what that white unicorn was up to.”
“You burned my friend’s house down,” White said in the bluntest tone of voice he could muster.
“Well, that’s water under the castle.” Monarch shrugged. “But in any case, I wanted to talk with you, White.”
“Free breakfast, right?” asked Quake.
“You want to talk to me?” asked White. “Why?”
“I asked if there was breakfast.” Quake snorted.
“Yeah,” said Scroll. “It’s toast day...”
“I was just thinking of you is all,” said Monarch.
“You got anything other than toast?”
“You see,” Monarch said, “Brother Shine here told me about how difficult it was for him, being a unicorn in a town full of dirts.”
“I think I get along okay,” said White.
“Oh, sure, plenty of stuff. We can make eggs or pancakes or hash browns or doughnuts...”
“Oh really?” asked Monarch. “I doubt our good friend Quake really appreciates you.”
“Shut up, I want my fucking pancakes.”
“What’s your point, exactly?” asked White.
“I like you, White,” said Monarch. “I think you’re a bright, handsome young stallion, so I’d like to make you an offer.”
“An offer?” White raised an eyebrow. “What kind of an offer?”
“What kind of pancakes? We could make buttermilk pancakes, apple pancakes, even potato pancakes...”
“I’d like you to come up to the fortress,” said Monarch. “I think you’d get along much better with our locals than with theirs. I assure you, we are much more civilized than our good friend General Quake here.”
“Shut up,” said Quake. “Sure, just get me something.”
“Alrighty,” said Scroll, exiting into the kitchen.
White, however, was not won over by Monarch’s suggestion. “I’m sorry, sir, but my mission is here on Earthquake Island.”
“And how is that mission going?” asked the general.
“It’s going fine,” White said through his teeth.
“Oh really?” asked Monarch, raising an eyebrow.
“How long do the fucking pancakes take?” Quake called.
“Gimme ten minutes!” Scroll answered from the kitchen.
White looked from one general to the next. “Why’re you here, Quake?”
“Wanted to make sure king horner wasn’t up to anything funny,” said Quake. “I also wanted breakfast.”
“Well, happy to oblige,” said White. “That’s you,” he indicated to Quake, “not you,” he pointed to Monarch.
“Well, I’ll leave you to think it over,” said Monarch, turning to leave.
“Wait!” said White. “I do have something I want to talk about. Both of you.”
The generals looked at him with looks of condescending confusion.
“Listen, why do you two fight each other? I mean, you’re here, talking, and you aren’t killing each other.”
“And hating every second of it,” muttered Quake.
“Well, maybe if the dirts here didn’t steal from us.”
“Oh, that’s really fucking rich,” snarled Quake. “What about all those hostages you’ve been taking?”
“Oh, that’s right!” said Monarch. “I’d almost forgotten!” He turned his head. “Are we willing to discuss hostages?” he called behind him. White, Quake, and the lieutenants looked in the same direction, but didn’t find whoever it was that Monarch was speaking to. He returned his attention to General Quake. “Alright, then, about those hostages. We’ll be willing to give, hmm, some of them back.”
“Wait, what?” asked White.
“Afraid we aren’t quite willing to part with all of them, but there are a few we don’t have any real use for. We could give them back, if,” Monarch continued, “you return the water machine and the cannon engine. What do you say?”
“Alright!” said Scroll, emerging from the kitchen with a tray on his back. “Turned out we actually had some leftover batter from yesterday!”
Quake glared at Monarch as Scroll served him his breakfast, which consisted of four pancakes slathered in butter and syrup, with a glass of orange juice. “Hey, I know,” said Quake. “How about if I eat my breakfast, shit it out, and then you can come down here for real and I can take your horn and shove it up your ass?”
“That was extraordinarily homoerotic...” said Scroll.
Monarch casually glanced behind him. “He says ‘no.’”
“Wait, what just happened?” White asked.
Monarch returned his gaze to the front again. “All dead. Very glad that’s cleared up. Thank you, Quake.”
“Did I do something wrong again?” Scroll asked, fidgeting with his glasses.
“You...” whispered White, “you murdered them.”
“No, that would be the executioner,” corrected Monarch. “In any case, I hope you’ll give my proposal a little consideration.”
“I already told you, no,” said White. “I’m not leaving here. I’m not going to abandon my mission, and I’m not going to take Scroll along to someplace that I just know is going to be as horribly racist to him as this place is to me.”
“What, who?” Monarch asked. He looked around the room until his eye fell on Scroll. “This little dirt?”
“Yeah,” Scroll said. “Racism.”
“That ‘dirt’ is my friend!” snapped White. “He’s also a good cook.”
“Well, I don’t think he’d be coming along.”
“Then I won’t,” said White. “Now, I have a proposal.”
“You?” asked Monarch. “You mean to make suggestions to me?”
“Yes,” said White. “Yes I do. I say you two stop fighting and end the war. Now.”
Monarch and Quake stared at him as though he were an idiot.
“Listen,” said Scroll as he straightened his glasses, “we have a water shortage here. Right?”
“Yes, from all your showering together,” said Quake.
“Well, listen, that machine you got that provides the water,” continued Scroll. “It’s unicorn tech.”
“Stolen,” interjected Monarch.
“Here we fucking go again,” muttered Quake.
“Listen!” cried Scroll, desperate to keep the conversation on the track he wanted. “We shouldn’t need to kill or steal! If you just stopped fighting and worked together, you could fix the machine and have all the water you’d want! And the forest here is huge! We could feed both populations!”
“Don’t you two get it?” White added. He rushed to the desk and grabbed one of the books. “If you’d just listen you could see how wonderful your lives can be! We can all live together, in peace and happiness and prosperity! We can save you!”
The two generals stared at them.
“Save us?” Monarch asked. “I hardly think I care.”
“What, you’re fine with just... just going on killing each other?” White asked.
“It’s served me well,” said Monarch.
“Are we done here?” asked Quake. “I need to go beat something up. Or have sex with something that isn’t a stallion.”
“Think over my proposal, Brother White. If you so wisely decide to take up my offer, the hologram device here will serve as a one-time, one-way teleporter.” He looked over at Quake. “Oh, and don’t get any ideas, Quake, you’re not intelligent enough to do anything to me with it.”
Quake snorted in irritation.
“That is all,” concluded General Monarch. He turned to walk away, but he stopped. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea... water shortage?” A sinister grin crossed his face. “I think I can do something about that.” He took a step and vanished. The dull humming from the machine on the floor ceased, and the lights went out.
General Quake, having finished his breakfast, grunted, got up, and turned to leave.
“I wish he’d said ‘thank you...’” said Scroll sadly.
___________
Scroll stood at the mirror, scrubbing at his eye.
“Rotten fruit,” said White. “Stings the eye and the soul...”
White stood behind him, running a brush through Scroll’s mane.
“I’m so nervous,” said Scroll.
“Oh, don’t be,” said White. “It can’t possibly go worse than our door-knocking today. At least with Tap the worst you’ll get is a ‘no’ and maybe a wisecrack.”
“The hotfoot was the worst...”
“Anyway, remember what you’re going to do?” asked White.
“I... I think so,” Scroll nodded. “I walk up to her, I smile, and I ask her if she’d like to go out with me.”
“That’s right,” White turned Scroll around to face him. “Don’t worry, Scroll. You’re gonna do great. She likes you.”
“I-I know, it’s just, well, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”
“Well, first time for everything, right?” White smiled. “Now get out there and show her what a charming young stallion you are!”
Scroll put on his glasses, and, with his mane straight and his face washed, marched out the door of the mission house. The air was still and cold, and the streets were illuminated with light from the windows and stars.
Scroll walked up to the door of the inn. He was ready - his mane was combed, his posture straight, and he had his tie on like a proper gentlecolt. He hesitated, though. His legs were locked as his nerves wracked him, leaving him unable to do much else other than breathe.
Come on, Scroll, he thought. Worse things have happened to you than this... But then why am I so nervous?
“You gonna go in or not?” asked a voice behind him.
“Wha?” Scroll jumped. “Oh, oh, s-sorry!” he stammered, heading through the door. Well, that first obstacle was out of the way. Now there were only about a dozen or so left.
The tavern was full of drinking and drunken stallions as usual, and roaring voices filled the room. Tap and Barrel were at the counter.
“Barrel, could you go downstairs and see if we have more whiskey?” asked Tap.
“Okay.” Barrel nodded before turning to head for the cellar.
Before Scroll could make his move, however, he saw a young colt walk up to her - Buzz. The colt walked up to one of the stools and climbed onto it, peering over the counter.
“Hey,” he said. Tap, however, did not appear interested. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”
Tap turned to look at him. “Huh? What do you want?”
The colt hauled a small sack of money onto the counter.
“Really?” asked Tap. “Aren’t you a little young for booze?”
“I don’t want booze,” Buzz sneered. “I want to fuck you.”
Tap’s expression dropped. “Yeah, no,” she said, pouring another glass of a drink. “Come back when your balls drop.” She left the counter, carrying a tray of drinks and a sandwich over to a table where two stallions were engaged in a hoof-wrestle.
Buzz sat there with a fuming expression on his face, staring at Tap as she left to do her job. “Hey!” he shouted. “I’m not done here!”
“Yes,” said Tap, “you are. Get out.”
“You’re a fucking whore!” Buzz snapped. “You don’t get a choice!”
Tap stopped for a minute. Then she turned around and slowly walked up to Buzz, who was wearing an irritating grin. Tap stood in front of him for a few seconds and thrust out her hoof, roughly pinning him to the counter. “Usually, yeah, I don’t,” she said as the colt gasped. “But sometimes I do. Right now I’m telling you to fuck off. Got that?”
Buzz stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock.
“Oh,” she leaned on him a little more, “and if you ever throw rocks at my brother again, I’ll make sure you regret it.” She lowered her face to his. “Just because you’re a little kid doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you. You got it?”
Buzz frantically nodded his head.
“Good. Now get out.” Tap released him, and he bolted out the door, forgetting to take the money. She laughed and took the bag, before returning to her position behind the counter.
“Got it!” called Barrel from the door.
“Great,” said Tap.
Scroll gulped. This would make things harder. He just wanted to talk to Tap, but he couldn’t do it with all these shouting bar patrons and her brother. He needed to think of something...
There was a group of stallions over at a table, playing cards. Idea.
“Um, excuse me?” he said, tapping one of the inactive card players on the shoulder.
“Huh?” asked the stallion. “Whaddya lookin’ at?”
“Nothing, nothing!” Scroll stammered. “I just, uh, wanted to ask you a favor...”
Tap and Barrel, meanwhile, went about their business - serving drinks, food, and dodging said drinks and food whenever they went flying. Tap’s other bit of business started that evening when one of the card players approached her.
“Hey,” said the stallion, seemingly bored out of his skull.
“Yes?” Tap asked.
“Uh, you meet me upstairs in, uh,” the stallion paused as though he had trouble thinking what he was supposed to say, “ten minutes?”
Tap looked around, and saw that Barrel was presenting a bottle of gin to a patron who was on the other side of the bar.
“Ten minutes?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You think so?” Tap asked. The card-player simply shrugged and turned to go back to his table. “Huh,” she said. Odd. I’d expect him to act more interested. However, she decided, didn’t really matter as long as he had money. She ducked down to sort through some glasses. Scroll, seeing the opportunity, bolted up the stairs.
Okay, so far, so good, he thought, slowing down at the top. Heh. You’re good. You’ll be all alone, you won’t have to worry about all the loudness, or making yourself look like an idiot in front of everypony, just... He opened the door to Tap’s room.
He didn’t expect it to be the same. After all, their house had been destroyed twice so far, but it was still arranged similarly: the bed, the nightstand, the closet, the windows - all arranged like it had been before, but it was a different bed, a different nightstand, and a different closet.
It was at this point that Scroll realized he’d done something phenomenally stupid.
___________
“Alright, Barrel, think you can handle it?” Tap asked.
“Huh?” asked her brother. “What for?”
“I’m going upstairs,” she said. “Taking a break. I’m going to, uh, read.”
“Oh, okay,” Barrel nodded.
Tap, relieved that she didn’t have to put up with Barrel’s protests, went upstairs. Admittedly, she wasn’t particularly looking forward to this. That stallion seemed bored out of his skull, and she almost suspected that he hadn’t bathed.
Well, she thought as she approached the door to her room, here goes- Scroll?!
The missionary was pacing back and forth, so occupied with his apparent worry that he hadn’t noticed her opening the door. She watched him for a while, before closing the door with an audible thud.
Scroll stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned to face her. “I, uh, well, y’see, I, uh, uh uh...” He gulped. “Sorry...” he squeaked.
Tap raised an eyebrow. One the one hoof, Scroll was probably the last guy she expected to do this. On the other, she found there was something profoundly predictable about his stammering and his nervous fidgeting.
“You, uh, you asked somepony else to ask me up here?”
Scroll looked down. “I was too embarrassed...”
“Aw, don’t be,” Tap laughed. “I have to admit,” she said as she walked up to him, “I didn’t see this coming. It’s a bit of a pleasant surprise, really.”
“Uhh, thanks...”
Tap laughed a little. “Awful bashful, aren’t ya?” she asked. “Well, I know how to solve that.”
“I- uh...” Scroll didn’t finish that sentence. Tap was standing very close to him, with her eyes narrowed and a sly smile on her face. Scroll opened his mouth, but his train of thought was stalled for words. Tap leaned forward and planted a kiss on his mouth. Now Scroll really couldn’t say anything, because his train of thought had crashed. His legs locked up and blood rushed to his face. When Tap broke away, Scroll’s mind was completely blank.
“You get that for free,” she said. She walked over to the bed, before giving him a sultry glance. “But the rest’ll cost you.”
Scroll’s mind snapped right back on track.
“How much did you bring?”
“Huh?”
“Well, you here for just a half-hour? Or you want an all-nighter?”
“What?” Scroll gaped. “No, I don’t want sex!”
The room fell silent save for the muffled shouting downstairs. Tap had been surprised before, now she was confused. If he wasn’t here for sex, she wondered, then what was he here for? And why did he want to be alone with her?
“I...” Scroll closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have something I want to tell you. Something very important and personal.”
Fuck, thought Tap, he’s coming out of the closet.
“When I’m around you, I feel funny,” said Scroll. “I feel jittery, I don’t know what to say, and I feel kinda dumb. And I don’t usually feel dumb. I get this... this strange feeling in my stomach, and I get really nervous, and I mean more than usual.”
Tap sat there on the bed, staring at him and listening. “Y’know, that kinda sounds like you want sex.” Scroll stopped. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Well, it’s more than that...” Scroll rubbed the back of his neck. “Tap, you’re pretty. And I mean really pretty, and that night, when I got all drunk and you had me on the bed, I couldn’t believe it. I’d never even really been around girls all that much. They didn’t talk to me more than they needed, and here you were, and you were being nice to me and kissing me and... There were times when I didn’t know if that would ever happen to me. And then when you told me that it didn’t mean anything to you, well...”
Tap remembered that. “I wanted it to be special,” he’d said, the six most bizarre words she had heard in her life. Great, she thought as she sighed, he’s getting emotional.
She’d dealt with the type before, usually after a round of pity sex - the colt would lose his virginity and think that he had something “special” with her. They started to get clingy, bugging her and acting as though she owed them something. Sometimes she felt guilty about toying with feelings, but eventually they all turned into the exact same kind of asshole as everypony else. They weren’t sincere, she came to realize. Her clients were never sincere. Sometimes they were nervous or awkward, sometimes they were bashful, but it always amounted to the same thing: some colt had money lying around and they wanted the pretty little whore. Some clients were nicer than others. Some of them were gentlecoltly, even, but all that meant was that what she did was a little more pleasant some of the time.
“I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” Scroll said after a pause. “I’ll just... I’ll just go now. I’m sorry.” Clenching his eyes shut, he headed for the door.
Tap was snapped out of her thoughts as she watched him go.
“Scroll, wait,” she said. Scroll stopped at the door and turned his head to look at her. “I don’t want you to run out bawling your eyes out. It doesn’t look good for either of us. C’mon and sit down.”
“Huh?”
“Come on,” she patted a spot on the bed next to her. “Let’s talk.”
Scroll hesitated before approaching her.
“Look, Scroll,” she said in a soft, gentle voice, an acquired skill of hers. Scroll slow sat down next to her. “I like you. You’re a nice guy and you bathe regularly. If I knew more stallions like you, I think my life would be a whole lot nicer.”
“Thanks...” said Scroll.
“I mean it. You’re a sweet guy, really, and you’re a very good friend,” Tap continued. “I just want you to know that. But really, the whole ‘lovesick’ thing is really, really silly.”
Scroll looked down despondently, not saying a word.
“Aww, don’t be like that,” She nuzzled him under the chin, pushing his head up.
“I’m sorry,” said Scroll.
“Don’t be,” said Tap. “But do you understand?”
“I think so...” said Scroll.
“Good, that’ll be a lot better for both of us,” said Tap. “Feel better?”
“Yeah,” said Scroll as he got up. “Thanks.”
Tap watched as he walked to her bedroom door. Poor guy, she thought, I hope he takes it well.
“Good night, Scroll.”
“Good night, Tap.”
___________
White lay in bed, reading the Book of Friendship and refreshing himself on the lesson that Twilight Sparkle learned from Zecora. Clip, meanwhile, slept snugly above.
He heard the door open, and he looked up. Scroll had returned, but his head was a little lower than before.
“So, how’d it go?” White asked.
“Not very well,” Scroll sighed as he flopped down on the bunk. “I made a complete foal out of myself, and she doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do about her.”
“I’m sorry,” said White.
“Don’t be,” said Scroll. “At least I got my feelings out. That was the important part, right?”
“As long as you don’t regret what happened,” reasoned White.
“Well, I don’t know. I mean, I care about her a lot, and, and...” he stammered. “Do you think I still have a chance?”
“I don’t know,” said White. “But I don’t think she knows what she’s missing.”
“I think she does, remember?”
“Oh yeah...” White thought. “Well, Scroll, you know something?”
“What?”
“If I were her,” said White, smiling at him, “I would’ve fallen right into your hooves.”
“Thanks,” Scroll giggled.
“C’mon,” said White, “let’s get some sleep. We got a lot of doors to knock on tomorrow.”
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I'm really anxious to see how that teleporter plays out later, and even more curious to how they turn the town. Good shit bro
Y'know, I really should read this.
As always, both well-written and very adorable. The mood whiplash isn't as strong as it had been in earlier episodes... it's turning into a more humorous (and ambiguously gay) story.
But I have a comment...
His legs locked up and blood rushed to his face.
When I'm kissed like that, blood doesn't rush to my FACE...
Gay?
google.co.uk/imgres?q=fluttershy+you+mad&hl=en&biw=1280&bih=581&gbv=2&tbm=isch&tbnid=OohDBkoCDeE_bM:&imgrefurl=http://mylittlefacewhen.com/f/622/&docid=_PotVCxjjEpwhM&imgurl=http://mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/130522894783.jpg&w=600&h=549&ei=AxjjTun4HNC78gP0zYyLBA&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=438&sig=112713419585927547752&page=1&tbnh=115&tbnw=127&start=0&ndsp=21&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0&tx=75&ty=89
I put the wrong picture?
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59660
OH-HO-HO!
..........ME GUSTA..............
You can just cut the sexual tension with a knife... which is somehow part of this story's charm.
I'm going to agree with Your Antagonist, the teleporter development has certainly piqued my curiosity. Looking forward to how that plays out.
yay stories
What a lovely update. I do see that this story is steering back into ambiguous gayness and comedy - which I think plays rather well then the constant grimdarkness. I do know that the war has an important part to play, but reading a chapter like this really brings out the endearing qualities of this duo. Great dialogue as always.
"Fuck, thought Tap, he’s coming out of the closet." LOOOOOOOOOOL