Suprising, what can go on in a dark, cold, and cramped room with only three occupants.
A colt has been sitting in a small dark room for Celestia knows how long. He can’t recollect anything, but knows he's there for something, something he did, but what? (I wanted to take a little break from my main story and made this, not sure if the comedic elements are strong enough for it to be listed as a comedy and I'm not sure the "dark" elements are strong enough for it to be listed as dark but 'eh, also not sure if it will turn out to be a dark fic or comedy. Most likely both. advice would be welcomed)
“47, 48, 49, 50, 51” There was a sudden pause in the colts mumbling. After a long sigh followed by a colorful vulgarity, the barely audible speech continued.
“1, 2, 3,” The colt said as he started a new count of the squares formed by the thin metal wires crisscrossing inside the glass window on the only door in the cramped interrogation room he was now in. His brown mane shown duly due to the small light hanging above him and the freezing air hung coldly in his lungs. The pony thought for a second if he should be thinking about why he was there, it would be the ‘typical’ thing to do yet came to the conclusion that doing what felt natural was the better thing to do in his situation and continued his counting. The legs of the table in front of him moaned quickly and quietly with age.
“4, 5, 6, 7” The earth pony continued. He suddenly became aware of his thirst and cursed himself for not getting a drink before those pesky guards came bursting through his front door. Then again maybe he had gotten a drink and the thirst was just a consequence of his internment. He really didn’t know how long he had been in that small room. There was no clock but there was an increasingly annoying stream of water dripping in the room’s corner. He had thought about counting the pause between each drip and then keeping a running tally of the drips as a makeshift method of time keeping, he even tried for a while, but quickly lost interest and deemed the idea ‘cinema bullshit’. There was no window either which ruled out the possibility of a sun dial or similar style of time keeping. The pony broke into sporadic chuckles each time he thought of how much time he spent actually thinking of ways to keep time.
“8, 9, 10, 11, 12” The pony, while counting the windows pattern, took a mental note that another pony had passed in the hallway outside his room, making it eight. The ponies varied two mares, four mares, and two ponies he could not tell the gender of. One of mares was a member of the royal guard, her armor shined duly in the hallways similarly dull lighting. The other mare was a worker at the. The colt paused at the fact that he didn’t even know where he was, stupid guards and their functional tactics he thought. The mare must have been a worker at the building he was in, no sane mare would walk around Canterlot in her clothing if they weren’t an employee of something. The colts however where all guards, two with silver armor and two with golden armor, three unicorns and one pegasus or was it pegasusi, pegesusee? The colt wondered quickly. Either way, no earth ponies rested inside those shiny sets of armor. ‘Racist fucks’ he thought to himself. This of course was not counting the ponies that had brought him here; he really couldn’t recollect much of the experience, just a lot of yelling and kicking.
“13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18” The pony now shifted his thoughts to building he was now in. From what he could remember, not wanting to shift too much memory space to the thought search and away from the surprisingly demanding task of counting squares on a window on a door, the building was mostly underground, the basement of a much larger above ground complex. His room must have been the lowest of them all, it had taken forever too get there, so many turns but perhaps they had just done that to confuse him. But what’s the point of confusing him? Honestly, he thought, I’m in the basement of a big-ass building, a building where you most likely can’t take three steps without bumping snouts with a guard, and they really think they have to try to get me confused. Wait, his thoughts continued, perhaps I’m some super ex-badass that can take on a thousand royal guards and they are doing their best to keep me from busting out, those ass-hats must be shitting their armor. But if that’s the case then why don’t I remember some epic last stand before coming here?
“19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24” The pony’s gaze shifted slowly too his hooves. They rested lazily in front of him due to his sitting position. The iron brace on his hooves rattled slightly as he adjusted his position. He examined the rusting metal with pure hatred. Stupid shackles, stupid room, stupid memory, stupid-. The pony stopped in his thoughts abruptly. He looked at his hooves closely and pulled one hoof onto the other, holding the shackle down. He slowly pulled one hoof out of the circular construct and did similar with the other. For a moment he starred at the two metal rings, connected by a rusting excuse for a chain. Realizing the stupidity of the restraint and his own stupidity, the pony broke out into laughter. His stomach slowly began to ach with pain as his laughter increased. He rolled on the cold stone floor as he roared, and soon he was gasping for air in the freezing confines of the room. On aching legs, the pony stood and began to pace the room, slowly though due to his gasping state. Once the need for air was satisfied, he broke into laughter again. Suddenly he stopped. Snapping his eyes back to the little squares on the little window on the cells door he cried out.
“FUCK!”
Almost on cue, the door rattled with movement and two forms could be seen outside the door. The colt rushed back to his previous station, shoving his hooves back into the crappy excuse for ‘restraints’. During his rush, the colt was reminded of students in a class room rushing back to their desks the second the teacher was seen at the door. After a few clicks signaled the activation of the locking mechanisms in the door, the portal opened. The wooden panel opened and two ponies stepped forward, both of average height, both mares, and one standing behind the other. The closest one was blue, a pegesus, her hair a pretty collection of colors, similar to a rainbow, and her cutie mark was a cloud with a rainbow like lightning bolt. She wore an expression of pure hatred and malice towards him. The pony behind her was light yellow, her hair pink and long. She huddled behind the blue one in a whimpering collection, the sight, although quite adorable was rather pathetic the colt thought to himself. Her cutie mark could not be seen. The blue one demanded that the yellow one shut the door and the yellow one quickly complied. Some of the rooms being seemed to be sucked out as the door closed. The room felt smaller and dense to the colt.
For a long period of time the trio simply stood there in opposition to each other. After losing interest in counting the total number of stripes on the blue ponies’ hair, the colt rested his head on the wooden table and closed his eyes. He was brought out of his rest by the violent shaking of the table. Evidently the blue pony had brought her hoof down upon the table in a rude attempt to wake him. The pair was now standing at the table’s edge, much like the colt. Tired of the room’s stagnant nature the colt spoke first.
“Glad to see they brought me company, I do hate being alone.” He said with a broad smile. The blue pony brought her hoof onto the table again in obvious anger. She spoke quickly and loudly.
“Cut the shit, why’d you do it?” Her voice cracked slightly with the last word, bringing a sly grin to the colt’s expression.
“You really shouldn’t do that, this table looks about a thousand years old and I hate seeing an antique destroyed when I can stop it.” Was this annoying? Yes, he thought, but then again, they brought him here, fuck them. His statement brought the expected reaction. “I said cut the shit you piece of crap, why the fuck did you do it!” The pony chuckled and continued his tactic. “You know, cursing loses its impact when you do it all the time, here, fuck, ass, bitch, cunt, dick, shit, crap. Now does that really impact you emotionally, of course not because you’ve been saying them all the fucking time.” The blue pony looked as if she would burst with hatred and anger; she started on a long speech on the colt’s stupidity, genital shortcomings, and general ugliness. All the while, her yellow partner stood silently at her side, eyes flicking from the colt to the floor and her friend. The colt sighed deeply closed his eyes. He momentarily thought of why the blue pony had stopped but his mental process was slowed by the sudden impact of his head and the table. The blue pony returned to her previous place and stared at the prone colt with a cruel grin on her face. The colt opened his eyes, he didn’t register the throbbing pain, the mares, the freezing temperature, or the cell, all he registered was the sudden influx of memories. Last night, the crime, or crimes he should say, the fighting and running, the capture. It all came back like water rushing through a shattered damn.
He rose slowly, relishing his reclaimed memory. He twisted his neck to one side, releasing a loud crack. He knew why he was there, he knew who he had hurt and who he had helped, he knew everything. They would be at his mercy now. “Ok, enough shit, tell me friend.” He took extra care to stress the word ‘friend’. “Why am I here?” The blue pony smirked again.
“Arson,” images of a guard post shrouded in flames flashed through the colts mind.
“Assault,” Images of a bloody and broken royal guard appeared in his head.
“Resisting arrest,” Images of vaulting over benches, turning corners, and weaving through crowds resonated in his mind.
“Take your pick, and those are just the ones I remember, now why’d you do it fucker.” The colt, for the first time, spoke quietly, yet with a voice that commanded power and wrath.
“For starters, my name is Franz.” The room grew colder.
Perhaps that was an overstatement Franz thought, he didn’t have everything. It was still just bits and pieces, random events, no real correlation between any of them, no real beginning and no real end. But what was most annoying, he still didn’t know why he did any of it; there was no motive in his thoughts, just action. The blue pony stared at him from across the wooden table with a glare of hatred incarnate. Even though she was but several feet from him, it felt like miles to Franz, he felt no amount of intimidation, he didn’t feel scared, he could only describe his state as bliss. But once again, he didn’t know why. As the pointless staring match continued, the colts mind was akin to an anthill, numerous functions occurring in concert, he went over his mental cards over and over again; analyzing where he had the advantage and what memories could prove useful. His mental archive, what others would compare to an expansive library, to him was more akin to a burnt out study.
*10 hours earlier…No, 9 hours…9 ½ hours?*
“Dude, what the fuck are you holding?” Mumbled Franz as he peered over the wooden crate that served as the pair’s current cover. A sudden tug brought him out of his position and back behind the crate.
“Same shit your holding bro, now shut the fuck up and give me a minute.” Whispered the cloaked pony, Franz didn’t even know his name, or he didn’t remember it. He exhaled deeply, his breath turning to smoke before him. He slouched against the crate, slowly coming to a sitting position. He disregarded the snow and the biting cold that numbed his underside, instead shifting his gaze upwards, towards the sky. Although being in a narrow alley therefore his view being restricted by the two sides, the dark sky was still present, a broad slit across the heavens. The moon made a brief appearance in-between the clouds at random intervals but never often enough for Franz to really marvel at the orbs beauty. The dark clouds also concealed the wondrous stars that once dominated the black background. Snapping his head back around the crate, Franz observed their target. Past down the alley, across the snow, across the wide and empty street, laid the guard post. The low stone building that served as a hub for guard activities rested quietly between two cafés. It was a modest building, one entrance, a single large window, and the royal seal above it all. As Franz examined the structure, the main entrance opened quickly, and out of the portal came five guards, the night patrol. Not breaking his gaze with the patrol, Franz nudged the cloaked pony, mumbling that the patrol had just left. Once the patrol was out of view, Franz looked back at his partner. The colt was hunched over a small bottle, filled with a blue tinted concoction, similar to the bottle at Franz’s hooves, each of the glass containers had a small dirty rag emanating from its neck.
The cloaked pony was hard at work, scraping a thin slip of black metal along a rock, small sparks flew of the metal after each contact, it was clear the cloaked pony was trying to catch the rag aflame.
“The building is granite ya know.” Said Franz, moving slightly closer to the cloaked pony. “Yes, and?” Responded the cloaked colt. “Well, unless this shit is magical I don’t think burning that mother down is going to be done by just two of these.” The cloaked pony continued his labor at a quicker pace. “Yeah, ‘because we obviously don’t have magical shit right here, ‘cause you know, all kerosene is naturally blue, are you fucking retarded?” Mumbled the cloaked pony. Franz ignored the insult. “So this shit lights bricks on fire?” The cloaked pony stopped his action and a lone spark flung itself onto the rag, for several seconds there was only a painful silence, then the rag was a smoking torch. “No, but just make sure you hit the door or window, the mixture will take care of the rest, and don’t look directly at the flame.”
The cloaked pony rose quickly, snapping his head in random directions, searching for evidence of an unwanted onlooker. After satisfying his paranoia, the colt looked down at Franz. Through the concealing hood, Franz could make out two blue orbs standing against the dark backdrop. They where cold, devoid compassion, yet lacked hatred or sadness. They where the eyes of a machine. The colt lifted the bottle with one hoof, the attached rag engulfed in flames.
"Ever used one of these?" His voice was rigid and calculating. Franz stood and lifted his bottle to the other, the flame quickly leaped to his own rag. "No, can't be that hard though." Franz said, his eyes flashed from the bottle to the guard post, he began selecting the optimal location for placement. "Just do what I do, and don't take your time, guards don't fuck around." Said the cloaked pony as he stepped past Franz and down the alley, he casted a long shadow across the snow.
Franz hefted the bottle in one hoof, and began to follow. At first it was awkward walking with only three legs but eventually the new method of movement came easy. The air still in the alley, and everything seemed as if it was only several inches from him. Franz felt like his world was shrinking, he was never claustrophobic, yet the sensation was unsettling and the pony quickened his pace towards the alleys exit. As they neared the alleys exit, Franz also felt a creepy sense of paranoia, like at any moment a head would poke out from a window or a door along the wall would swing open.
The pair stopped at the exit, the point where the main street was but several feet from them. The cobblestone street was wider than Franz expected and he mentally groaned. Bringing with it a brutal wave of cold air, the wind picked up and Franz momentarily feared that the flame would be extinguished. Despite the fear, he embraced the cold, the low temperatures had always attracted the earth pony, The cloaked pony stared at the guard post silently, looking to Franz after what felt like five minutes. He spoke with an unusually calm tone, Franz himself wasn't nervous but he had still never committed such an act and the colts tone was as if this action was a normal and expected one.
"You ready comrade?" Franz nodded and took a shaking breath.
"Let's show these motherfuckers, viva la revolucion." He said as he broke into a run across the street.
"Fuckin commies." mumbled Franz as he to broke into a run after his partner.
There were no voices, no groans of civilization, nothing to give away that they were in the heart of Equestria. The only sound Franz heard was the sound of crunching snow. The pair crossed the street slowly it seemed, Franz momentarily compared the situation to a recurring dream of his, run as he might, the hallway would only grow longer.
The wind lashed at them as they ran, enhancing the nights chill. Franz envied his ally, a cloak would have been a valuable possession at this time he thought. His thoughts shifted to his partner, and with that, the memory ended. All he further recollected was casting the bottle into the guard post, the ensuing fire, and the returning patrol. “Hey, asshole, I asked you a question.” Franz’s eyes refocused at the blue ponies remark. He sighed heavily when his vision revealed that the room, and its occupants, had gone through little change. He groaned before responding.
“Sorry, I was having a flashback, you would have dug it.” He said with a growing grin. The blue pony moaned and gently slammed her head on the wooden table which groaned with the added weight. “Remember when I said I won’t see an antique destroyed while I can stop it, I wasn’t kidding.” The blue pony mumbled a descriptive vulgarity about Franz and the table having intimate relations. This bitch is going to break my fucking table thought Franz.
Bored with the blue pony, Franz shifted his gaze to the yellow pony huddled in the corner who had up until now been closely examining the ground in front of her hooves. Upon noticing the colt was watching her; she gasped and turned her attention to what must have been an interesting section of the stone ceiling.
Franz shook his head and spoke, quietly so as not to disturb the obviously distressed blue pony. “She’s not too good at interrogations is she, I mean I’ve never been to one but I’ve seen enough movies to know the basics of a decent interrogation.” The yellow pony nervously shifted her hooves and continued her observation of the ceiling. Franz gave the pony a last look over then returned his gaze to the blue pony that, un-surprisingly, was still facedown on the table. Franz, overwhelmed with boredom, returned to his thoughts. He searched his mental cache for any details that may have been omitted. There had to be something, a detail or aspect he had overlooked. He was desperate, if not to help gain the upper hand in this situation or provide leads to future memories, then just to prove that he could do it. To prove that he was the master of his psych. suddenly, he uncovered another missing link, a light bulb might as well have appeared above his head. The blue pony, she was there, he knew it, he could not mistake that tail or hair. She was on the patrol that had left the guard house and had caught him and the commie burning it down, she had been there.
He wanted to burst out laughing, another victory for the amnesic convict! But how to use this new nugget? How to utilize its hidden potential. The blue pony lifted her head and fixed the colt with another hateful glare. Franz leaned in slowly, a wide grin on his face. He spoke quietly. Was it a stretch, was it going to get him a hoof halfway up his ass? Of course, but you never really know until you do it he figured. “Hey, last night, you and your friends did pretty good.” The blue pony’s eyes widened and Franz could tell he touched a nerve. “You let a couple of street trash burn down a guard, Celestia’s finest my ass.” Seconds later the blue pony was upon him, his head sandwiched between her hoof and the hard floor.
“You never start with the head, it makes the victim all fuzzy.” Franz mumbled through clenched teeth. For a second the pressure was relieved as the mare brought her hoofs away from his face, yet the relief was quickly ended as they fell once more on the earth ponies face, breaking his nose. Stepping away, and leaving Franz sprawled on the rooms floor, the blue pony returned to her previous station, suppressed rage painted on her features. Slowly regaining his stance, Franz leaned against the wall for support, red dripping from his damaged nostrils. His first thought was to question the mental stability of the blue pony, albeit in a more vulgar manner. Yet he held back this instinct, wanting to show no signs of weakness or loss of control, he needed to maintain the upper hand. The silence was broken quickly by the blue mare.
“Don’t test me ass, this doesn’t have to be difficult, now why did you do it?” She spoke in a more controlled manner than before, the assault evidently venting a surprisingly large amount of rage. Wondering how they would respond to much a statement, Franz grinned and blurted out.
“I have absolutely no fucking idea what happened last night bitch.” The phrase slowly descended into near maniacal laughter as it left his mouth. As his sides ached with the bellowing laughter and metallic drops of blood touched his lips, he imagined what the ponies’ expression must be. Anger, shock, or confusion, all would be equally satisfactory. Instead, he was met with a hoof to the gut and his neck pinned against the wall by the blue ponies hoof. “You lying piece of shit, why did you do it?” Spitting a hopefully nasty mixture of saliva and blood in the mares face, Franz responded. “I can’t remember anything, I’m not shitting y-” Another hoof to the stomach cut his sentence short. In his thoughts, the broken stallion wondered how much more of this he could take, the lack of knowledge, beatings, flashbacks, he felt as if he would go mad under such conditions. “Bullshit you can’t, why did you do it.” Another impact to the stomach.
“YOU FUCKING COMMIE, you said they would’ve been on patrol by now!” Franz roared with his near exhausted lungs. Extending a hoof and catching the metal pillar of a street lamp, the cloaked pony in front of Franz swung around a corner, mimicking his actions, Franz swung around the corner and was caught by the cloaked pony, who wrapped his hooves around the fleeing stallion and pulled him into darkness. Breathing heavily, Franz’s mouth was quickly covered by the cloaked pony. As his heart pounded and lungs ached, Franz focused his eyes and examined their refuge. It was a much smaller alley than the one they were in before firebombing the guard post, its width only capable of holding three ponies flank to flank. There was no other exit to this alley, only a wall at its end that bore a single, modest door. Unlike the other alley, little to no snow covered its floor. Behind him, Franz heard collected voices and a thunder of hooves, images of massed charges down the alley, trampling him and his ally filled his mind. As quickly as it had come, the barrage stopped, signaling that the guards had continued down the street and away from the duo. Releasing his grip, the cloaked pony rose and dusted himself off. Gasping for air, Franz shut his eyes and swallowed air like a parched pony would consume water at an oasis. As his breathing calmed and some amount strength returned to his muscles, Franz noticed the cloak pony begin to stare at him intently. Retuning the gaze, the cloaked pony spoke.
“Are you ready to move?” He spoke in a calm collected tone Franz would not gave expected from one who had just bombed a guard post or fled the royal warriors of Princess Celestia for four blocks. Failing to respond in time, the cloaked pony continued.
“Follow me.” The pony spun around and began advancing down the alley. Franz momentarily cursed the urge to follow. He could not trace the emotion, but he didn’t want to follow for the sake of following. Noticing his lack of movement, the cloaked pony called out as he moved deeper into the alley, darkness slowly consuming him. “You do not have to follow, however in your case; this path would be the most fulfilling.” For several seconds Franz took in what the pony had said. After decoding that delving deeper into this new path than trying to find a new one, Franz rose on shaking hooves and began to follow the cloaked pony.
As they reached the end of the alley, the cloaked pony withdrew a small ring of keys from one of his pockets and began flipping through the collection. Upon their arrival at the portal, and upon his selection of the correct key, the cloaked pony inserted the piece of silver metal in to the lock and began undoing the tumblers. As he inched the door open, Franz blurted out a question he was surprised he had not already put forth. He spoke in a hushed tone, as if the royal guard was just behind his shoulder. “What is your name?” It was a question the two had not exchanged, or at least he could not remember them exchanging the phrase. The door swung open quickly, revealing a large room. In the center there was a single table, containing several scrolls, quills, and vials of ink. Along one wall was a collection of blankets that Franz assumed to serve as the occupants bedding. Along the opposite wall was a collection of maps, articles, and papers all pinned to the wall in what looked to Franz like an incomprehensible mess. Along the other two walls, was an exotic assortment of arms. Spears, swords, daggers, halberds, scythes, and bows, all showing signs of expert care and craftsmanship. As followed the pony through the doorway and gaped at the wide assortment of deadly weapons, the cloaked pony answered. “My name is not of any importance; however you may call me Echo.”
Franz coughed violently and casted several specks of blood onto the blue mares mane. "Ok, this is going nowhere; I don't want to talk to you anymore." Franz gasped as his throat was further constricted by the mare, akin to a snake strangling its prey. Whether due to his remark or ulterior motives, the mare pulled away. Sliding down to the floor in a moaning mess, Franz shut his eyes and slowly slipped into agony as his injuries throbbed. “This is fucking pathetic, give me a few minutes, I’ve got to get this blood out, good luck Fluttershy.” He heard the blue mare say, quickly followed by hoofsteps, the opening and then closing of the large door.
Pushing through the pain, Franz retreated to his thoughts.
*Crap, I really pulled some shit this time.*
*This time? You never pulled shit, period, asshole.*
*Whatever, I’m in deep shit and I don’t know what I’m going to do about it.*
*Could ask the blue bitch to smack us around a little bit more, that seems to jog your memories*
*I don’t like getting hit, and I don’t think I can take much more without blacking out.*
*Who knows, maybe you’ll remember that you’re a freak who gets hot from getting hit, oh, pink haired cunt is talking.*
Franz mumbled several incoherent ramblings as his vision refocused and the image before him became clear. The light yellow mare who had been called ‘Fluttershy’ stood before Franz, a fearful yet sympathetic smile on her features. Noticing that her lips where moving, the bleeding stallion strained his ears to pick up the voice.
“Um, I’m sorry my friend, uh, hit you but, err, why did you, um, do it?” The words came out slow at first but picked up pace towards the end. Staring at the mare for several seconds, Franz cried out in a tone that personified annoyance and disbelief.
The yellow pegasus shifted uneasily in her position before Franz, like a child cowering beneath the gaze of an angered parent. Franz, still retaining his annoyed expression, started to rise, pushing against the wall on his side and forgoing the use of his legs as a stable support. combined with his aching gut and a sudden rush of exhaustion, the stallion slid back down the wall, slashes of blood following his descent each time his aching nose connected with the wall. Fluttershy whimpered softly at the miserable display, her eyes swiveled in their sockets, examining every aspect of the room except for the groaning being before her. for several seconds, the room was just that, the stallion groaning upon the earthen floor and the mare standing before him yet not addressing him.
Franz, after a short fit of coughing, casted a quick glance at Fluttershy who, noticing the stallion suddenly cast this gaze upon her, gave muffled squeal and took a shaking step backwards.
**she's a cute one.**
*I think my ribs cracked, this blood flow is starting to pester me and you are thinking about mares?*
**Hey, I'm just a voice in your head, so technically you are the one thinking of mares.**
*When this is over i'm killing you with booze*
**What are you, gay?**
"Nevermind, i'll kill you with a toothpick." The mental assertment came out instead as a a verbal statement, unnoticed by Franz who continued to lay in a moaning mound of pain. Upon hearing the odd proclamation, Fluttershy allowed a slightly louder 'eep' to slip over her lips and take another shaking step back. Franz noticed the odd gesture and momentarily was at a loss, only moments later realizing that the thought had come out as a verbal statement. Gritting his teeth, Franz gathered what strength he could muster and once again pushed against the cold wall, inching upwards slowly. As he pushed upwards, he called out, eyes shut. "Help would be appreciated." At first there was on response, just an incoherent backdrop of mumbling. Had he not been so hell bent on standing, Franz would have wondered what possible purpose this mumbling mare could possibly serve.
After several painful seconds of almost stagnant movement on the wall, the stallion let out a loud groan and pulled his eyes open. "Perhaps its better if I just sat here." Gently, he allowed the lower half of his form to drop until he reached an awkward sitting position, once confident in his new stature, the stallion shifted his position so as to face the silent mare directly. He was unsurprised to see the yellow pony shrinking under his gaze, looking at anything but him, and bursting into fits of mumbling every few seconds.
*Can this night get any weirder?*
**I think she's kinda cute, and how exactly do you know its night?**
*We may end up a corpse in a ditch in the next few hours and you are concerned about my internal clock or getting mares, how the fuck did you manifest again?*
*Maybe too many bumps to the noggin, sure a shit got plenty of those tonight.*
Pushing the mental conversation from his thoughts, Franz decided to speak first, not knowing what exactly to say, he decided to start simple. "Hello, my name is Franz, your partner is a bitch, however i'd like to make at least one friend here, what do ya say?" He extended a hoof towards Fluttershy upon finishing the sentence, a bloody grin spreading across his features as well.
*Who the hell says shit like that?*
**I'm tired, my head hurts, and she doesn't look like the type you could have a complex conversation with.**
*Sounds like you're quoting a fucking how-to manual on friends, you sound like a creeper*
Oddly, the yellow pony stiffened her back slightly, mumbled a short phrase that Franz thought might have been a motivational quote, and spoke. "I'm Fluttershy, and-" That was as far as she got before her speech descended into mere squeaks and mumbling. However, she still extended her own hoof and shook Franz's. His patience already at zero, Franz interrupted Fluttershy. "I'm sorry dear, but you are going to have to speak up." His tone was of suppressed annoyance.
It took the mare another few seconds to respond, her voice slightly louder than the last speech. "W-we don't, know why you-" Knowing how the sentence would end, the stallion interrupted her, putting emphasis on each word. "I don't remember anything from last night, you know just as much as I do, hell probably more."
The room fell silent as he spoke, snapping his vision to the rooms only door, Franz noticed the outlined of a pony's head snap out of view as soon as his vision centered on the door. Aware of the possibility that his suffering was being silently observed by others brought a momentary spike of rage to swell in his chest.
Unlike her partner, this seemed to satisfy the yellow mare who simply shifted her footing and stared at the ground after his response. As he gazed in annoyed boredom at the yellow pony, Franz felt his head begin to throb in agony. The pain in his limbs was replaced by a splitting headache. His head slowly lowered and his mind began to blank, in the corners of his vision, he noticed the mare was gazing directly at him, worried curiosity painted on her features.
"Is this place, uh, legal?" Franz mumbled as the cloaked stallion called Echo closed the door behind him.
"Not exactly my friend." said Echo, who stepped past Franz and towards the rooms center table, removing his cloak as he did so. As he tossed the cloth onto the table, Franz was looked upon the ponies true appearance for the first time. He was of similar height and build to Franz, his mane was dark blue. His hair was cut short and colored flat black, tail of similar color. his cutie mark was an odd symbol, a circle with an arrow through it, bent in the center but regaining its course quickly after the bend. As the colt turned to motion for the stationary pony to approach, Franz noticed his eyes where neon green.
Taking a step forward, Franz examined the room further. There was a thick metallic smell in the air that stung the nostrils and upon closer examination, this room wasn't meant to exist. The walls where natural, carved rock instead of smooth stone, a wooden ceiling that leaked water in several locations. It had the feel of a hideout to Franz, like in his childhood, he even felt a sudden urge to be silent, taking slow precise steps and slow breaths. Upon reaching the table, Franz observed but made no attempt to interpret the numerous papers and scrolls. some where maps, others where simply filled with quickly scrawled words. As Echo shifted through the mound and discarded some papers while pulling others to the light, Franz spoke in a hushed whisper. "Well, what now?" Echo ignored the question, instead increasing his pace as he searched through the papers. It was only after withdrawing several maps that he finally spoke. "Now, we move, we need to link up with the others and continue the operation." His tone was quick and he came to an abrupt stop, snapping his eyes to Franz. Upon seeing the confused expression on the stallions face, he sighed deeply. "Grab what you need, we're not done fighting tonight, pack light." He rolled up the small collection of maps and left the table towards the wall of weaponry.
Franz looked upon the stallion with new found curiosity, either he hadn't explained, or he couldn't remember, but the true nature of his new path seemed far away and out of reach. He quickly shook of the thoughts, they where useless to him, this path was new and different, there would be time to wonder in the future. With a deep inhale, he advanced towards the assortment of arms.
First, he snatched at the essentials, a leather harness that Franz adjusted to his frame, a small curved dagger that fit snugly onto the harness. As for a primary weapon, Franz was at a lost, he had never utilized a weapon in his lifetime, his only real experience in combat being the odd street brawl. Knowing that a sword required legitimate skill to use, he ruled out the group of weapons sadly, those long-swords where pretty badass.
Ruling out exotic blades and bows, Franz was left with but one option. A small, scratch built crossbow. As he pulled the ranged tool of death from its place on the wall, he examined the weapon. It had no strings, it was obviously homemade, and was entirely metal. It had a general Y shape, two tension springs located at the top and connecting at the bottom. Becoming immediately attached to the inanimate object, Franz smiled down at the construct and pulled a quiver of bolts from the wall.
As he slung the crossbow over his back and fixed the quiver to the harness, Franz heard the creaking of metal on metal and felt an sudden rush of cold air. Scanning the room, Franz was surprised to see Echo kneeling in the far corner of the basement, a panel of wood at his hooves and the gaping maw of a trap door beside him. Advancing towards the black hole, Franz felt his pulse increase, he felt light, powerful, he felt free. Stopping at the edge of the opening, he looked into its maw. His searching vision was met with darkness, however his sudden euphoria could not be stemmed. With a sharp inhale, he leaped into the abyss.
