Bank
Chapter 9: Bank
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The pony soldier struck his opponent one last time. The wolf squealed as a hoof slammed down on its throat, crushing the trachea. The stallion left it there to die as it thrashed unable to breathe. Exhausted, he slumped into a kneeling position to catch his breath, but only for a few moments. He stood back up, unsteadily and wearily. Everything about him was askew and disheveled from the past three brutal days of fighting; he looked like hell. He walked over to a fallen wolf which had an AK-74 stuck into its belly by the bayonet. It was with great difficulty that he pulled it out. Next, the soldier began to walk across the desolate desert hilltop, thick with dead bodies and the dust stained red with blood, picking up ammunition as he went. He made his way into a dugout area surrounded by sandbags and covered in a tarp. Inside, he walked over to a desk with a radio on it and kicked the dead communications officer off the chair. The stallion put on the headphones and hailed command, only keeping calm with great difficulty, hoping to get reinforcements and evacuation.
“Zentral-Kommando, dies ist Berg Zwanzig. Wir haben übergelebt, aber wir haben vielen Verlusten aufgenommen. Wir bitten Evakuierun um sich schicken Verstärken sofort – ist est einen Metzgerei. Hören Sie uns?”
Confused, command responded, “Was war das, Berg zwanzig? Was passiert? Das Signal ist zu schwach, um zu verstehen. Beantworte, bitte.” Static began to seep into the transmission, and the soldier swore that the sky suddenly started to darken.
The pony lost patience and shouted into the growing static, “It’s over; der Kampf ist fertig! We’ve won, but at a very high price. Vielen Soldaten haben gestorben. Evakuieren Sie uns – get us out of here and send reinforcements! Jeztz- Sejchas- Now!”
“Verstanden, Zwanzig, aber wir nicht dürfen weil-” The signal went dead and static exploded into the headset, causing the startled pony to fall backwards. He looked up and saw that the sky really had grown much darker in the past minute. Help was not coming. He was all alone. A sense of dread was filling him and he heard deep, slow drumbeats loud as thunderclaps echo from the darkening sky. DOOM… BOOM… DOOM…. BOOM… DOOM…. BOOM…
Sunny Breeze awoke in a cold sweat, hugging his AK-74 tightly against his chest. He lay in bed for several long minutes, forcing himself to calm down. His hyper vigillance and anxiety were cranked sky high; he was so on edge that hearing a single footstep in the hall outside would make him dive for cover and empty his magazine at the noise. He needed a drink more than ever now. Things hadn’t been so bad in almost a year. Damn Hill Twenty! For how long would it and its nightmares haunt him? It was years ago, but still here he was, almost as freaked out as the day those memories were violently scarred into his mind forever.
Afghneighnistan, Zebricy, and Chechneya… why did they still haunt him so? Of course, the upcoming anniversaries of both Hill 20 and Grazny weren’t helping. Learning that Zecora was Chechneyan made him tremble and sweat with remembered anxiety. If only he could make it through the next couple of weeks, then the anniversaries, and a certain share of the nightmares, would be behind him again, and he could go back to pretending that everything was fine – that he was just an ordinary unicorn stallion living in Ponyville.
Sunny got up and stealthily walked into the living room. He sought his bottle of whiskey and its blessed ability to quiet his mind. His mother would not approve, but he could not care anymore. Surely she could understand how in his situation, it would be inhumane to deny him his only pleasure? Several chugs went down his throat; he didn’t even bother with glasses or trying to estimate how much he drank. He only knew that he wanted a lot. He put down the bottle and looked over at the picture of the four zebra stallions. Oh how lucky there were that they didn’t have to go through this. How lucky they were that they never had to see their comrade so pathetic. Okay, perhaps that was not exactly the right way to think about it, but Sunny was not in the mood for contemplation as he returned to bed. He’d need to be at work in four hours. Maybe it wasn’t such a hot idea to get drunk at two in the morning!
The alcohol came into his system, seemingly all at once with a sort of falling sensation. He felt calmer – good. Unfortunately, aside from the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest and buzzing in his head, he felt awful. The pain in his heart didn’t go away. In fact, it got worse the more alcohol flooded his system. He’d read somewhere that alcohol made the highs higher and the lows lower, and he was having quite a low when he’d gone on the binge. The world started to spin and he felt nauseous. In search of relief, he staggered over to the bathroom, turned the lights on, and began to take a bath, for he was too drunk to stand in the slippery tub.
Sunny tried to bathe himself, but found the soap to be too slippery for him to grip with his hooves. It took a few awkward attempts to get it off the little shelf, and he almost immediately lost it when he tried to scrub his foreleg. The stallion noisily sloshed about in the tub, trying to find it. He touched it a few times, but never could get a grip on it. The churning motions and hot bath did little to help settle his stomach, and he felt himself fighting the urge to puke. At least it was easier to apply liquid shampoo, so he clumsily adapted it as makeshift body wash. It wasn’t like anypony could tell the difference between that and soap.
Sunny stomach gave him no peace, nor did his heart. He completely submerged himself under the water in a vain effort to distract himself, and because it was easier than remaining upright. He played noisily with the water, splashing about like an overgrown foal. Regardless, he still felt like crap. He couldn’t remember why, because the alcohol clouded that particular part of his mind and left him with only enough clarity to focus on his misery. Still, there was some comfort in that it felt less real, so he could pretend that it really wasn’t happening to him. It could all be a bad dream that’d go away when he finally woke up. However, the nausea was definitely all too real -- too much booze. His stomach clenched. He felt the sickness in his throat. Sunny held perfectly still, hoping that it’d go away. He retched and heaved dryly.
Sunny drunkenly slid himself over to the toilet bowl and grabbed the seat. He tried to stand up and cross the gap between tub and toilet, only to fall between them and bang his head on the side. He heaved again, his jaws involuntarily spread open. With a final effort, he yanked himself into position and shut his eyes. He heaved thrice more, emptying out the vile-tasting content of his empty stomach, releasing only a few tears and some disgusting fluids in an attempt to rid itself of the alcohol coursing through his blood. It stopped and Sunny spat, trying to get the horrid taste off his tongue. At last spent, he slipped off the seat and landed on his side. There he stayed, too spent and miserable to move as a few tears slid down his face.
Footsteps sounded in the apartment. They rapidly approached the impassive stallion. The door to the bathroom opened and Sunny saw his mother at the edge of his vision. He couldn’t see her face, but heard every word she said. “Drunk again?” Her voice was thick with disappointment. In that moment, Sunny wished he could disappear. “You have work in a couple hours. Is this any way for a grown stallion to act?” Now that she had reprimanded him, she could just leave him there. “You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it.” The mare approached him and huffed at the stench. He heard the toilet flushing. Sunny shut his eyes. He heard the sound of running water. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Gentle, careful strokes with a wet washcloth rubbed his fur. Ginny wasn’t too soft, as some strokes were uncomfortably hard, but she wasn’t harsh or rough. Sunny relaxed, almost enjoying this. He felt affection for his mother. For all of her nagging and brusqueness, Ginny was still his mom and she still cared enough to look out for him, in spite of everything he’d done and all the ways he’d let her down. After a few minutes, the impromptu rubdown was done. He heard the sound of running water again, but not the sound of it hitting the ceramic sink. He was beginning to sober up a little, but still properly couldn’t grasp what it meant.
Splash! A big ball of cold water hit him in the face. “Blyad’!” Sunny cried out in shock.
“Come on, Sunny. Get up and go to bed.” He stood up shakily. Ginny helped him balance and walked him to his room.
He collapsed onto his bed. “Thanks, Mom,” he said.
“You’re welcome, Sunny. We’ll talk about this later. You’ve got a couple hours before work, so try to rest.” And with that, she left and closed the door. Sunny was unable to sleep. He was sleep-deprived, sobering up, hungry, and still miserable. However, he felt better than before because for the first time, he realized that somepony really did care about him. That feeling of connection had been absent from him for so many years, he’d even forgotten its very existence. It didn’t change anything or how he felt, but it made everything just that teensy bit more bearable, because he knew that he didn’t have to face his problems alone.
Sunny got up for work as usual, but this time grabbed his AK-74. When he left, he did his usual salute to the picture of the four zebra stallions just a bit more gravely and with more dignity than usual. “Ich lasse…” The stallion still felt the effects of alcohol in his system. One of them was a horrible thirst. Fortunately, he didn’t have a hangover, although he was more tired than usual. Of course, like any good soldier, he ignored his problems and focused on the task at hand. He couldn’t suppress a wry smile. Golden sunlight lit them warmly and songbirds provided a pleasant background melody. The glorious morning would have made anypony feel better. To his surprise, he got to the bank first. It took a good quarter of an hour before Keffiyeh arrived with his G3. He waved hello to his friend. “You’re late,” joked Sunny.
“You’re drunk,” shot back Haye. “You look like hell. Rough night?”
“Y-yeah,” replied Sunny, glad that his friend could not see his ashamed blush though his balaclava.
“Is something the matter?” They both stood on their hind legs, holding their guns in front of them and looked out past the hedges.
“Just the usual, Keffiyeh -- woke up early and too much booze. It’s that time of year; the anniversary of Hill 20 is coming up…” Sunny tightened his grip on the rifle.
Haye gave him a concerned look. “Are you having nightmares?”
“I can hardly sleep without reliving things,” Sunny growled, suddenly angry without even knowing why. “If it’s not Hill Twenty, then it’s Grazny. If it’s not Grazny, then it’s Chechneya. If it’s not Chechneya, then it’s Zebricy. If it’s not Zebricy, then it’s Afghneighnistan. Even single time I close my eyes, I’m back there all over again! Sometimes, I don’t even have to be dreaming for it to happen. I mean, I’m here. Then I blink and suddenly, I’m in Klopdagar!” He stamped his hoof angrilyf.
“Chill, dude.” Haye looked at Sunny. The stallion had always been small, even when they’d first met as teenage colts. However, Sunny had always been more muscular than one would expect for ponies of his size. However, since the war ended, he seemed to shrink as if wasting away. Haye now realized that Sunny’s uniform was looking too large on him. “Sunny, have you been eating well? You look a bit too thin.”
Sunny turned and looked at him. “I guess…” He absentmindedly pawed the ground. “I don’t eat very much because I don’t really feel hungry all that often. I’m not anorexic, okay!?”
Haye resisted the urge to laugh it off and pretend it was a joke, but realized that given his friend’s state of mind, it was a bad idea. Instead, he coolly replied, “Never said you were, bro.” Sunny relaxed slightly. They went through the usual procedures as the manager and employees arrived. They greeted Goggles as he came through with his Sterling. They resumed their conversation afterwards.
“Haye, I’m sorry I snapped at you,” said Sunny.
Haye batted his hoof playfully. “It’s okay.”
“I didn’t mean to; I just felt really angry for some reason and lashed out without thinking.”
“Don’t sweat it, really. It’s cool.” They were silent for several minutes. “Anyway, I was thinking that since we don’t really see each other all that much outside of work, that maybe you’d like to come by my house tomorrow for dinner.”
“Is it alright with Klee? I mean, I don’t want to impose or make her cook extra.”
“My wife’s fine with it,” he lied. He felt guilty about dragging her into it with no warning. “Besides, we enjoy your company.”
Sunny’s eyes dilated and his ears perked up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” reassured Haye, nodding vigorously. That much was true.
“Are you sure that it’s not too much trouble to have me over?”
“It’s okay. We’ve got food to spare. Besides, I hate leftovers and she loves to cook.”
“Wish I could get a mare to cook for me…”
“Isn’t your mom in town?”
“Heh. You know what I mean.”
“Still counts.”
“I still wish I could get a mare, period.”
“It’ll happen one day.”
Sunny sighed. “It’d be nice to get an E.T.A. of some sort on that ‘one day’. It’s lonely being a single stallion.”
“I know what you mean, Sunny.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, my first time was at a brothel in Zebricy. It’s cool if you buy a mare. I’ll even help you with that.”
The younger stallion smirked. “Is Klee still in the business?” Sunny joked.
His friend chuckled slightly. “Not really,” Haye said. “She’s never really retired, but she doesn’t do it very much anymore. She makes a bit of money by doing odd jobs like sewing, cooking, cleaning, tutoring, gardening, babysitting, massaging, and escorting, even though that’s maybe only once in a blue moon. She’ll buy a small ad in the local paper every once in a while. She takes on clients who ask, even when it’s been a long time since she last advertised.”
Sunny watched and listened, not fully believing what his friend was telling him. “You mean that you let your wife do that kind of stuff, and you even advertise it?” Equestrian society was far from prudish or puritanical. Liberal sexual mores were the norm, and to some extent, it was close to anything goes. Polygyny, where many mares shared one stallion, was the rule. However, polyandry, where many stallions shared one mare, was far less common and somewhat contentious. After all, such things made perfect sense in a world where a nine to one female to male ratio was considered completely normal. Not that that stopped there from being a not insignificant number of notable moralists and crusaders who fought promiscuity, homosexuality, and the sex industry in the name of protecting the family and decency, and these enjoyed a fair amount of popularity and support in a noticeable minority of the population. Still, Sunny was still naïve and uninitiated to the realities of adult relationships.
Haye shook his head. “Nah, I don’t talk about it much. Klee likes you and probably would do it for free.”
“You can’t be serious -- I wasn’t serious! You’re honestly telling me that it’s okay if I sleep with your wife?”
“Not sleep with, but yeah, I am.”
“I see…”
“Funny how you’re so calm about all this. Last time we discussed this stuff, you wouldn’t stop blushing.”
“Wasn’t being serious then, Haye.”
“I could tell. So, you want to know more about where to go and who to see?”
Sunny nodded. “Sure, why not?”
Keffiyeh began to lay out a list of leads for Sunny. “Rarity’s a drama queen, but she’s also generous, easy, and always repays ponies who help her.” Sunny remembered what Goggles had said about Rarity paying him back with fellatio for fixing her sewing machine. “Pinkie Pie loves a bit of fun and making her friends happy. Rainbow Dash is a good piece of ass. Exie is up for anything if you can either keep her entertained or make it worth her while, but careful; she’s really fast to fall in love and her relationships last as long as lit firecrackers. Cloud Kicker is always up for a one night stand. Berry Punch puts out easy if you buy her a few drinks. Vinyl Scratch likes to party and experiment. Aloe and Lotus run a spa and do massages. The word is that they’ll offer special services to big tippers, faithful regulars, and nice ponies. The Ponyville Almanac has ads on the back pages. Sweet Nights has mares on call. The Heart Hotel on the edge of town is a nice little bordello. Any mare in heat is a sure thing if she’s not taken – just don’t knock her up. Lastly, keep in mind that the mares here outnumber us by like twenty to one. They shouldn’t need much convincing to go with any stallion.” He finished.
“Damn, that’s a lot. How’d you even know all that stuff?”
“I’m a popular stallion and I keep an ear out for things. You should try guarding the interior more. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff that ponies let slip, forgetting that we can hear everything they say.”
Sunny only nodded slightly and responded, “I can only imagine. Thanks for all that, Haye.”
His friend smiled. “Don’t mention it. We’re old war buddies. Of course we help each other out.”
“Absolutely.” No more words were needed. They were silent for a long time. “So, about those ponies who’ve been snooping around, what do you make of them?”
“Hell if I know. Part of me would like to think that they’re just loiterers, but part of me feels that they might be trouble.”
Sunny took a deep breath. “Do you think they’re like take us on and storm the building trouble?”
“I don’t think so, Telnyashka. They’re not all that brave.” Keffiyeh paused. “They didn’t take well to you getting in their faces yesterday.”
Telny laughed, “They nearly pissed themselves when I did that, Keffiyeh.” Keffiyeh chuckled. “They haven’t been back today. Besides, if they were really that bad, then they would probably not even bother with little old Ponyville. It is not as if this town is a very rich target. And with four gunponies, two of whom are experienced combat veterans, a third who is a decorated Aphelion soldier, and a fourth who is Private Pyle, we definitely are not a soft target. It would be suicidal to attempt to take us on.”
“Mm-hmm. Most city banks have fewer gunponies. Of course, they also have ready reinforcements, royal guards, and local police. Most of those guys fall closer to Goggles in terms of skill level.”
Sunny interrupted. “Except in Baltimare. I remember riots when I was growing up. Nopony even dared to look at the banks funny. Some colts tried to loot some stores right next to the bank near where I lived. The guards shot them. On both sides of that sidewalk, nothing even got so much as a broken window. Anyway, as you were saying.”
Haye sighed exasperatedly. “You’re right about how if those guys were really the kind who’d take on armed guards, then they would’ve already done it instead of sitting around all this time. So they aren’t much more than hooligans. They might try something at a kiosk and maybe mug somepony, but they aren’t much more than timid petty thieves, if even that.”
“You think they have anything to do with the increase in b-” Sunny yawned. “Bandit activity?”
“Nah,” replied Haye, making small circle with his shoulders. “There’s no way that they’re in league with bandits. They’d get chewed up and spitted out.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow slightly. “Perhaps they’re more than they appear. I mean, by looking at you, there’s no way that somepony could just automatically tell that you’re a badass veteran.”
“But somepony could definitely know an in instant just by looking at you.”
“Oh, how? Ich verstehe nicht.”
Haye seemed to pause for a moment and he rubbed his chin with his hoof. “You’ve got something about you, Telny, that screams warrior to ponies who know what to look for.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a cold, slightly vicious look in your eyes. It’s also a little sad-looking and you seem a bit haunted. You always look disciplined and tough. You’re unflappable. There’s this aura around you that gives ponies the feeling that you’ve seen and done things. You also talk like a soldier; you don’t really do casual talk.”
Sunny seemed rather pleased with himself. “Thank you. I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Exactly! Just that right there.” Haye pointed at him.
Sunny grinned. “Fair enough. So back to our earlier topic: my concerns about the loiterers. I’m not concerned about them being the threat. I’m wondering if they’re just doing recon for some real tough guys.” Haye did have to admit that Sunny always had been the one with the better instincts and deductive reasoning. He could take little bits of information from different events, piece them together, and reach very sound logical conclusions. Therefore, if Sunny said that something seemed fishy, or if there was something to take into account, then it was usually prudent to pay heed to him.
“Go on.”
“They seemed to operate in a group and they kept on coming to the same spot day after day, rain or shine, and stayed all day long. If they were residents, then they’d be preoccupied with other things. If they were tourists, then they wouldn’t be behaving like that. If they were punks, then they had really strange habits. Also, one of them tried to apply for a job as a security guard, claiming to have been in Afghneighnistan and being able to prove it. I don’t know if he really has those credentials, but he definitely has the accent. Anyway, military service isn’t something you lie about, especially to a potential employer, especially if you are offering to give proof of it. Maybe they’re just weird. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe there is something going on. I hope that it’s just me.”
“Now you’ve told me those things, Sunny, I’m not so sure that they’re all that harmless. However, we can’t just go and grab ponies on the suspicion that they might be shady and possibly working to supply information to bandits who may or may not exist, and who might or might not even be targeting Ponyville.”
“Is it worth doing some things to improve security, such as practice emergency drills, run patrols, or organize a tactical clinic?
“Sunny,” Haye began. “I’m the Ponyville outfit’s captain. I don’t set training schedules for the pencil pushers. You know that I don’t do patrols for two reasons. Firstly because we only have four guys, and second, because command would never allow us in the Everfree. As much as I’d love to arrange a training session, remember that Ponyville is a backwater hick town and there aren’t any facilities for shooting, let alone anything tactical. You can’t buy anything gun-related here because nopony sells anything gun-related. Also, being in a backwater, we hardly get any money or equipment allocated to us. They only give us barely enough ammo and targets for yearly qualifications. Besides, while we’re gone, who’s going to cover for us?
Sunny grinned mischievously. “I understand, but can’t we just shoot them, just in case?”
“No, we can’t just shoot them to be on the safe side, either.” Sunny’s shoulders drooped. Haye gave him a deadly serious look. “Sunny, you know if you keep saying things like that, one of these days, somepony’s going to hear and think you’re serious. You’ll be in deep trouble then, and it’ll be the word of a respectable citizen of Ponyville versus the word of a mercenary turned reclusive alcoholic gunpony. You’ll be exposed and forced to relocate with a big black star next to your name. Now imagine that there is an incident and you’re involved. There’ll be an investigation. Even if it’s a completely open and shut case and you’re totally in the right, it’s still going to come out that you regularly expressed violent, if not homicidal sentiments over a long period of time, which his going to cast a lot of doubt on you. Sure, you may keep your job, but everypony’s going to be watching you like a hawk, and nopony’s going to be willing to trust you, let alone promote or recommend you. They might just get rid of you to appease the lawyers. If an incident happens and it’s ambiguous, or it looks bad, then it’s not going to do you any favors. If it goes poorly enough, then you might find yourself facing murder charges.”
“Okay okay, I got it. No more joking about stuff like that.”
“I’m serious, Sunny. I’m keeping my mouth shut about this stuff because I’m your friend and I know you. Have Shades or Goggles ever heard anything from you, or seen you do anything unprofessional?”
“Negative, Haye. However, they both heard me tell off drunken ponies on the night of the Spring Equinox Festival. I raised my weapon then, but I did not fire and neither of them saw me with my weapon raised. I did not inform them about that and no incident report was filed. Also, yesterday, Goggles saw me approach and tell off the loiterers.”
Haye heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank Celestia you have at least some discretion.” The conversation died. There were too many hours still left to go.
Sunny asked, “Keffiyeh, what do you think about Goggles?”
“In terms of what?”
“In terms of how prepared and skilled he is as a fighter.”
Haye didn’t even hesitate. “Goggles’ mediocre. He’s gotten better since the equinox, but he’s got a long way to go.”
“I noticed that he definitely improved somewhat after you put him on monitor duty for a while. It seems like maybe he’s taking it seriously. Perhaps he’s practicing?”
“Doubt it; he isn’t confident about his ability to win in a shootout.”
Sunny scratched and itch. “Ja, und?”
“He passed all his qualifications, always setting the curve on marksmanship. However, he folds under pressure, especially in dynamic situations.”
“So he’s not very good, tactically speaking?”
“Exactly,” spat Haye.
“Can we do anything to train him?” He stopped Haye from cutting him off. “I know we can’t do a proper class, but is there anything against teaching him ourselves.”
“So long as we use our own personal funds for voluntary off-duty training, it’s allowed.”
Sunny furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “So, would you mind if I gave him some training?”
“Not at all. Just don’t go too far.”
“Konechno – of course!” Sunny and Haye laughed. They had only been half joking. Silence came.
In a bid to restart the conversion, Haye asked, “Sunny, why’d you bring your AK today?”
Sunny answered, “You want the reason you tell your boss, or the real reason?” The stallion shifted slightly uncomfortably and twiddled with his mane.
“What do you think?”
His friend smiled. “Haye, you know that I never think.” They both grinned and chuckled at the joke. “I kinda accidentally brought my AK-74 instead of my FN FAL. I just grabbed one and went out the door without paying attention. I brought the Kalashnikov because I have a hell of a lot more combat experience with the avtomat than I do with the fusil. I trust myself to perform better with the Kalash than with the FAL, and even though I have the upmost confidence in both weapons, I have more in the AK than I do in the FN. Also, the 74 is a fair bit lighter than the FAL, which is definitely a major advantage when you’re standing around holding the damn thing for hours on end. Does that answer your question?”
“Totally.”
“Good. Now figure out which answer is for the boss and which answer is the real one.”
Haye puzzled over this for a long while. “Is the second one your real answer?”
Sunny smirked. “I can neither confirm nor deny that. I’ll just let you worry over it; it’s more fun that way.”
“You parasprite,” joked Haye.
“Takes one to know one,” laughed Sunny jovially. “So, may I inquire why I only ever see you use your G3?”
“There’s no mystery, Sunny. It’s just that I have only one rifle.”
“Really, you only have one rifle? That sounds boring. Is it your only gun?”
“Ja, es ist.”
“How do you deal with only having one weapon? I mean, you can do far worse than 7.62x51 battle rifle, especially the G3, but why only have one weapon?”
“Because of economics, familiarity, and not being a firearms-obsessed nut, to name a few…”
“Guilty as charged. But seriously, come on, comrade. You’re using a full length 308 at close range in a densely populated area. I earnestly need to take you gun shopping the next time I go to Canterlot.”
“Celestia have mercy on us all!”
“Because nopony else would.” They chattered more for a while as they did their guard duty. The loiterers did not show up, much to their delight. Sunny stayed until Shades came with his SCAR-L to relieve him. After one last quick exchange in Zebrische with Keffiyeh, Sunny left for his apartment to get ready for his date with Faraday.
He returned without incident. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to do fill in the hours until then. Back at the apartment, Sunny stripped himself down to camo pants and telnyashka. He tried to drink, but the smell of alcohol made him feel queasy. The taste didn’t help that and he almost retched on reflex. Irritably, he slammed the bottle of bourbon back onto its resting place, swearing under his breath. Damn, his one real pleasure was now beyond him. Sunny was bored. He hadn’t felt this way since the night when Rainbow Dash had first knocked on his door and stirred up his life. He had been conlanging at that time and – wait! That’s it! He’d construct a language while waiting for Faraday to get off work.
Sunny sat down at his desk and set to work on a new language. His previous attempt, Greshnik, had been too complex and ambitious in terms of its differences from his native Equestrian. The word order had been different, the writing system was too complex, the grammar was a mess, and the morphology meant that his words were turning into vowel and consonants pileups. For example, Sauueniuol was his word for crow, and Nagrtsekivdzr was his word for to build.
With a new sheet of paper, he started on a fresh project, determined to avoid the pitfalls of the previous. To begin with, he created some basic rules concerning syntax, phonology, and morphology. He then chose a brief snippet of text to translate. As per his custom, he used the preamble of the Equestrian Civil Rights Declaration, which stated, “All ponies are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of friendship.”
Before he translated it or came up with the words, Sunny Breeze rearranged it so that the only thing remaining would be to do a relexification of the words, now that they were aligned and set as they would be in the final product. Hyphens indicated connected affixes, and parentheses indicated a verb root. The result read, “All-ponies are-(born)-free and equal in-dignity-and-rights. They are-(endowed) with-reason-and-conscience and should-(act) towards-one-another in-a-spirit-of-friendship.”
Sunny considered the grammar and the words behind his designs. He then carefully created the new sentence. It now read, “All-ponies Iz-aone are-(born)-free vy-(koln)-aib and seb equal iro in-dignity-and-rights u-iwelyx-ono-eprefsh. They Chto are-(endowed) vy-(thamg) with-reason-and-conscience a-ohlubak-ono-umvrezh and seb should-(act) ju-brok towards-one-another i-uk-ne in-a-spirit-of-friendship u-b-eg-mi-deyalo.”
He looked over it, checking for the consistency required to build a systematic language. Then, satisfied with the results, Sunny wrote it again, this time without the equestrian original and without the demarkations. “Izaone vykolnaib seb iro uiwelyxonoeprefsh. Chto vythamg aohlubakonoumvrezh seb jubrok iukne ubegmideyalo.” There would be time to edit and change things later. It occurred to him that he really ought to try getting his hooves on a radical new invention called a computer. Supposedly, it would make this a snap and take up much less physical space than all the paper he was using.
Sunny looked at the clock. He had another half hour remaining before he needed to leave. And so, he decided to transliterate it into the Chechneyan script just for fun. It was an alphabet, just like that used for Equestrian. However, its wider range of symbols would be helpful for him to express the exact sounds he envisioned. This was the final product: “იზაონე ვჲქოლნაიბ სებ ირო უიჳელჲჴონოეფრეჶშ. ჭტო ვჲწამგ აოჰლუბაქონოუმვრეჟ სებ ჯუბროქ იუქნე უბეგმიდეჲალო.”
The time was now late enough for Sunny to worry about meeting Faraday. He changed into more normal attire and then headed out the door to meet her at Sugarcube Corner. He was tense on the way there. As much as he liked her, dating was stressful and did nothing to alleviate his other issues. It was ironic how he could calmly engage the enemy during a firefight, but meeting a mare in a café made him worry. He had never been great socially, but ever since the war, meeting and dealing with ponies had always put him on edge. And it had all started from that one time in Klopdagar that a pony he considered a friend attempted to murder him. He’d never liked meeting unfamiliar ponies either alone or in groups since then. He wished he could get a drink, but thanks to his own stupidity, he’d just throw it all up if he had more than a few sips. And just in time for the worst part of the year.
Sugarcube Corner was slightly packed, which did him no good again. At least Faraday had already gotten a table. “Hey, Sunny, over here!” The apricot-coated mare waved at him, smiling good-naturedly. He came over to her.
“Sorry I’m late; I got stuck with work.”
“You’re not late; I’m just early, is all.” She pointed her eyes at the clock. Indeed, he was perfectly on time down to the minute.
“Wie gehst – what’s up?” He forced himself to remain calm, but in his state, he subconsciously switched languages.
“Oh, nothing much,” said Faraday. “Just the usual at work, y’know. It’s kinda boring.”
Work – not a good topic. But how to get away from it without seeming avoidant? “I can imagine. I mean, it’s not like a turbulent work environment is a good thing, nor is a stable one a bad thing. But just a little change is good.”
“Totally,” replied Faraday. At that moment, Pinkie Pie appeared.
“Did someponies order milkshakes?” Pinkie chirped, pulling a tray with two glasses on tray out of nowhere.
Sunny gave Faraday a look, but she just took them blithely. “We did. Thanks, Pinkie.”
“No problem!” Sunny looked at his surroundings but for a second, but when he looked back, Pinkie was already behind the counter. He looked at Faraday.
“Faraday, you want me to pay you back any for the cost of the shakes?”
She shook her head. “Nah. I got here first and it’s cool. You can treat me next time if you really want to, not that I don’t appreciate you offering, I mean…” The mare trailed off, blushing slightly. Equestrian dating customs were somewhat fluid regarding who dealt with the bill. Generally, each only paid their own way if they were meeting only as friends. For romantic outings, either the mare of the stallion could pay. It was wholly acceptable for the mare to pay the whole bill. The high ratio of females to males meant that on some level, they did have to prove their worth over rivals. On the other hoof, a stallion taking the bill showed that he was a worthy provider and was chivalrous enough to think of the mare. It was still taken as good manners for the stallion to at least offer to do so. Ginny had taught Sunny to be a gentlecolt, and it plainly showed.
“It’s alright. Thanks for doing it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sunny looked down at his milkshake. He took a sip through his straw. Vanilla. He stopped drinking. “How’d you know to get vanilla?”
Faraday shot him a grin. “I didn’t,” she whispered. “I told Pinkie Pie you’d be along and she did the rest.
He chuckled. “That’s Pinkie Pie. What flavor did you get?”
“I ordered chestnut.”
“Never did like nuts very much besides peanuts and almonds, especially when they’re salted.”
“I know, right. Salted almonds are like the best thing since those yellow apples. Y’know the ones?”
“They’re called Golden Delicious. Always where a bit dry in my opinion. I prefer Granny Smith apples.”
“Thanks. Granny Smiths are sour and I don’t like sour.”
“I didn’t used to either,” replied Sunny enthusiastically. Speaking with Faraday was easier than he’d been dreading. “Back when I was a colt, I didn’t really like them. I’ve always loved pears though.” He took another draught of his milkshake.
“Pears are delicious,” responded Faraday. “You wouldn’t believe the craziest thing that Derpy told me.” Faraday’s eyes shone as she got wrapped up in the talk about ponies, food, and other things.
Sunny couldn’t exactly remember her perfectly; he had issues connecting names with appearances and particulars. “Isn’t Derpy the wonky-eyed pegasus who’s Doctor Whooves’s marefriend?”
His date nodded. “He hates pears, and only Lyra and Derpy call him that – you know them?”
“Negative. I just thought that was his name. I’ve never really spoken much with any of them the few times we’re seen each other.”
“Lyra started calling him that first, claiming that he looked like some character from this hypothetical human show. She claims that she’s seen a few snippets of it on her radio picture box thing.”
“A television,” Sunny corrected her. He’d seen a number of them during his time as a gunpony. Audio and video technologies weren’t unheard of in Equestria, having been around for several decades for the latter and easily more than a century for the former. It was simply uncommon for motion pictures to be had anywhere outside of cinemas. Radio was mostly a military and corporate technology employed to get around the limitations of unicorns and thought broadcasting and receiving magic spells, some of which Sunny knew. Nopony had really made big inroads in terms of commercial or civilian broadcasting for radio or television. The same went for landline telephones, electronic communications in general, and for the few wireless mobile telephones and radios. In the minds of most ponies, distance communications seemed a pitiful substitute for communicating face to face, and writing letters offered the advantages of applying a personalized touch to communication in addition to the benefit of tangible evidence of exchange. Sunny knew of computers, but those were only just starting to become personal devices, and their social capabilities as well as user bases were very limited. He had only ever seen one in his entire life.
“Thanks – slipped my mind.”
“No problem. So, what’s up with Lyra and humans. I mean, I hear a good amount of talk about it, but does it have any sort of basis in truth?”
Faraday took a long suck on her straw, making softly muted grunting noises and bobbing her head up and down slightly. Her periwinkle blue mane shook slightly. She released the straw, gasped, and licked her lips. “Lyra…” Faraday began. “Lyra has always liked old ponies’ tales a little too much. When she’s not doing anything else, she searches for them.”
Sunny thoughtfully stroked his chin. “It sounds like she has a harmless quirk. I say let her be.”
“She insists that some things were invented by humans.”
The stallion cocked an eyebrow. “Such as?” He was halfway done with his shake and resumed sipping away at it slowly while he waited for her answers.
“She says that like our modern stuff is taken from human things. Like, yesterday, she tried telling me that the guns the army uses really come from human designs, just changed a bit for ponies, which kinda makes sense, because how else did we go from just having muskets for hundreds of years to having machine guns?”
Sunny resisted the urge to correct her and give a more comprehensive explanation of the history of firearms, but it would not have been prudent. “It’s crazy, I know. But which explanation makes more sense: Equestria has the sharpest minds on the cutting edge of technology, or highly intelligent cryptids with the sort of violent society that would facilitate the development of such weapons and technology, would just give away all that stuff for free instead of just taking all this over?” Faraday nodded.
“I guess that makes more sense.”
“Where are you from, Faraday?”
“Ponyville. And you?”
“Baltimare.”
“You have the accent. So, do you feel better?”
“What do you mean?”
“The first time I saw you, you were having lunch with Rainbow Dash. You were drinking and seemed pretty down. Are you feeling better?” She looked kindly into his eyes, fortunately not seeing Sunny’s embarrassment.
He had to think for a moment before responding. “Oh yeah, that. Thanks for asking. I’m feeling better now,” Sunny lied. The opposite had been true.
She smiled. “Happy to hear that, Sunny. You seemed kinda overwhelmed when Pinkie threw that welcome party for your mom at your place.” She finished off her milkshake with a few strong slurps with a touch of noticeable sensuality.
He stroked his mane nervously. “Yeah, that was crazy and took me by surprise. I’m not really a big fan of suddenly finding a half dozen ponies in my apartment, especially without any invitation.” Her ears drooped.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Faraday leaned her muzzle very close to Sunny and whispered, “I saw Rainbow Dash come out before you did. Did something happen between you two?”
Sunny blushed furiously. “N-no – nothing happened. We’re just friends.” The stallion kicked back the rest of his shake, hoping to cool himself down. Faraday gave him a knowing smile and brushed his cheek.
“Well,” she teased. “if you need help with your feelings, you know who to talk to.”
Sunny was speechless. “S-Sure. Thanks f-for that, Faraday.” She giggled.
“You’re so cute…” With that, the mare pecked him on the cheek and then walked off, her plot swaying more than necessary and a new spring in her step. The stallion confusedly rubbed at his cheek a few times, blushing profusely. The next step was to leave, but he first had to set up a date with Pinkie Pie. He approached her at the counter.
“Hey, Sunny, how ya’ doin’?”
“Just fine,” said he nervously.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but Pinkie Pie went into full chatterbox mode. “That’s super, because I’m happy when my friends are happy! Ooh, did you like your milkshake? And how was Faraday? What did you two talk about?”
Sunny sighed. “It’s all good, Pinkie. Listen, would you like to hang out tomorrow morning?”
“I’d totally love to! But where?”
“In the park at ten. I’ll be by the fountain.”
“I’d love to, Sunny! I can’t wait to see you, but I am seeing you right now, but I won’t be seeing you soon, but then I will see you again at the park-” The stallion brought his hoof down on the countertop. “Sorry.” She smiled nervously. He laughed, feeling her infectious good mood tugging at him.
“Seeya, Pinkie.” He left Sugarcube Corner soon thereafter.
Sunny was lost in thought as he walked back to his apartment. He’d had a bit of time with Faraday. While it had gone well, he didn’t learn all that much about the mare, but he got a good feeling about her and had enjoyed her company. He wished that the ending had been less confusing. He hadn’t gotten as much time with her as he had with Zecora, and he didn’t get the chance to learn as much about her. Granted, he didn’t know much about Zecora either, but that was due to his crap conversational skills as much as their task-oriented meeting. That didn’t have to mean much. There was still plenty of time for him to get to know the two of them, as well as the rest of the mares. Tomorrow was Pinkie Pie. The one potential snag with her was in having to deal with getting rid of her in time for his afternoon work shift, but that was not his problem at the moment.
Sunny arrived back at his apartment to find it unoccupied. There was a note on the table in his mother’s handwriting. Levitating it to his face by magic, he read it aloud. “Sunny, I’m off to Appaloosa to watch the All-Equestria Championship Rodeo. Be back in a week. Love, Mom.” He smirked and replaced the note. Bored but not yet tired, Sunny did some more work on his conlang before ultimately turning in early to bed. Sleep did not find him easily and he lay wake long into the night, worrying about what would betide him in the future. At least it would doubtlessly be interesting.
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Weird friends. Haye is totally fine with his wife being a part-time prostitute on the side and his wife is fine with him fucking other mares? Why even be married if you're both gonna be doing those things?
2907628
It's a different culture and a different morality. That's one thing I'm trying to make abundantly clear. You may also find some answers in one of my other stories, "Relax".
2907628
i.imgflip.com/2iuvw.jpg
2898534
It's k. I look forward to it. Just don't forget, alright? I don't want to chase you down over this.
My inner lingustics geek is happy, both from German part and inventing a new language ;)
I don't know why, but my first thought was "it's a foreshadowing: Googles is bucked". Definitely I read too much...
2916002
Feel free to proofread. I don't mind at all.
2911755
Yay. I'm glad (and a little surprised) that fimfiction even supports Georgian Alphabet characters.
A few days and several thousand words later, I am here to give my review of this story as it is thus far.
Grammar and structure is up to standard and the chapters read nicely. You make a good effort to inject detail into your writing and to keep the scenes interesting. There were a few mistakes in spelling here and there, but that can't be helped. I could have overlooked typos just as easily as I found them while reading. That said, at chapter nine of this story I have to say this story probably wasn't written for the likes of myself. Take no offense to your ability to write, it is just my personal preference.
2916648 That's probably something even fimfiction's creators didn't knew...
3023241
I'll let you in on a little secret. When I started this story, I was running completely blind and didn't plan ahead at all. If I were starting a similar project now, I would definitely do it in anthro. You're going to have to just tune it out and chalk up things to cartoon physics. However, most long guns (shotguns, rifles, SMG's...), are modified to fire with a trigger mechanism connected to a sliding plate actuated by a hoof, located in the stock. I'm trying to keep out handguns because I haven't yet figured out how to do those with normal ponies.
In my original draft of chapter 3, they did use a motorized van. Yes, vehicles driven by internal combustion engines do exist in my headcanon. However, Ponyville is a backwater hick town with not very much technology. It's not really worth the expense to put a motor vehicle there, from the company's point of view. Ponyville doesn't have any petrochemical or mechanical infrastructure, anyway.
Thanks for the comment. Do you like my story so far? Do you have anything to say about it? I'm all ears.
Chapter 10 is in production and will probably be out in a week.
3086408
Thanks for the feedback. I do foreshadow a lot. I partially do it because I find that spacing out chapters so that one constitutes a day helps a lot with pacing. I will take your advice, especially for when I write action series. That notwithstanding, how are you enjoying the story?
who's that stallion rainbows with in the new cover art?
This is a great story! Stumbling around blindly has netted me a good fic for once.
I don't object to other characters getting a share of story too, but it seems like the last couple of chapters have been pushing Rainbow Dash to the side. Also, his new quest to get laid... it feels like it makes Sunny a little less sympathetic, especially considering the almost-romance-friendship he'd been working towards with Rainbow (or maybe not even that--it just doesn't fit the character of Sunny Breeze you've been showing us). And, aside from sex not being a cure for PTSD, Sunny was only a few chapters earlier feeling bad about maybe being just another of Rainbow's "conquests", so it comes off as a little... off.
Also, wouldn't having sex mean being... well... naked? That seems like something Sunny can't handle.
But punching Rainbow Dash! Ow. He's lucky he didn't get bruised in the face in return. Apologizing was good, but what does she think about him just wailing on her all of a sudden? Is there any way for Sunny to explain that doesn't involve telling her about PTSD and life-and-death struggles? And... "I HATE gunponies!" I winced terribly at this, even as a part of me leapt in joy at how that confession would make the eventual reveal of Sunny's gunslinger status even more intense a moment of emotion and drama. Is... the upcoming problem with bandits going to be involved with that somehow?
Anyways, I apologize for the criticism, it was just something that I felt was out of place. But regardless, you've written an incredible story, and I'm glad that I decided to read it. Rainbow's right--Sunny's shyness and constant blushing is pretty cute.
Cant wait to see more of this. Love this story quite a bit, hope the Haitus ends!
Is pepsi
Why is this on hiatus?
Before I read it, what is the Dark tag for ?
and how bad does it get ?
7887341
The dark tag is for themes such as PTSD, alcoholism, and alienation. Nothing grimdark; no torture porn or blood orgies, or cruelty for cruelty's sake.
7886852
I got busy in real life and I got discouraged by the size of the undertaking I had written myself into, not at the time being up to such a task. Would you like to see it continued?
Yay, a story that doesn't conatin sexual content. *Ahem* I'll check it out later.
7896176
Thx. Most of my work isn't porn, y'know.
7896176
What I'm hoping for is a bit of feedback, analysis, and opinion on whether or not to continue it.
7896970 Don't worry. I'll do just that though it will take some time.
7896973
Why is this on hiatus?
8092305
because it hasn't been updated in 4 years xD