Storytime With Rust, Vol. 0.1 · 12:24am Jan 12th, 2015
Great, jagged peaks spear through the clouds on all sides, eternally spewing snow and ice into the howling winds. The sun is huge and fat, but up here, there is no room for warmth. Only the shrieks of frozen canyons and bare bones of the earth have a place in this realm.
Nopony in their right mind would be there on a day like this, much less ever.
"Fuckin' shitballs, this sucks."
A pair of shapes stagger out of the cloud, trudging resolutely forwards. The leader is a pony, gray tufted ears poking out from layers of winter wrapping that cover her body. A thick red scarf trails behind her as she grits her teeth into the wind. The other figure, taller and bipedal, also thickly clothed but ragged and threadbare.
"Mister Rust!" the tall one whimpers. "How much longer are we gonna be?"
The pony glares over her shoulder. The sunlight glares off her pair of reflective goggles. "Maybe if you save your breath for climbing instead of your incessant faggotry, a hell of a lot sooner than later."
"But I'm tired!"
"Billy, I swear. Keep that mouth open, and you're about five seconds away from my hoof going on a date with the inside of your ribcage."
The tall one hunched his shoulders down and moaned with displeasure, but slouched forward through the snow at a slightly faster clip. For a long while, there was silence between the two, save for an occasional grunt of exertion or gasp as a spear of cold air wracked their bodies. Higher and higher they climbed, the mountain seemingly endless.
"Mister Rust?"
The pony's tail lashes. "Yeezus save me -- what now!?"
"Why do I have to keep calling you 'mister' if you got lady bits?" Billy scratched at his rear.
She frowns, shivering in the cold, then stamps a hoof down. "This is the decided metaphorical representation of myself! It's what I'm identified as by the collective unconscious. You think I want to look like a fluffy-eared quadrupedal diabetes delivery system? I can't control how the purest expression of my soul appears, you autistic chucklefuck!" Her nose scrunches up and she sneezes, several icicles shaking loose into the snow.
"Your soul has a vagina, Mister Rust."
A long, drawn out sigh sounds across the mountain slope.
The mare eventually lowers her head to the trail and continues climbing. "I hate you so much."
I knew it, you were a pussy all along!
Would tap.
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I love stories.
I don't, I mean, what? Seriously, I'm confused. Give me more. I like it.
...
I have no questions.
Does that mean that all of your lies are real?
Actually I have more questions...
Did your soul... uhh... undergo 'exploration?'
Can't Rust fly? She should just fuck off and leave Billy to his gay ass fate on the side of the mountain if he can't reach the top. Also:
Cannot stop laughing.
...Yeeaahhh, I was starting to wonder about this mysel-
PFFFFFFFFFFFT
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INQUIRING MINDS WISH TO KNOW THIS
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The first of a spirit quest mini-series, relegated to blogposts because admins can't handle the meta.
2716484 Interesting, proceed.
Is this a quest to get Rust's soul some balls? Seems like a noble goal to me.
Now if only Billy wasn't there to gay everything up...
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Fucking Billy. Every time.
I am amused. I will continue to read.
Very Short, will read.
I look forward to the next one!
Also, how're you doing, brother?
2716614 Hey now, blogs can't be NSFW
2716484 Meesta Rust, here is a wrench for billy. (no caps because billy doesn't qualify as a person)
Is this being made into an actual story?
Nanananananananaa nanananananana Baatmaaaare!
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Ooh, that would make a good wallpaper. Source?
How to draw readers one oh one.
Have 'Fucking shitballs' in plain sight within the first five lines of text.
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pretty sure i googled "awesome adventure landscapes"