It was leading to rabbit holes of character arguments that spiraled into hellish domains where finding a feasible 'out' for Sunset grew dire indeed. After several attempts I've decided to just rip out the rootA Tiny Snippet of Cut Content; Rariad 15 · 6:08pm Nov 2nd, 2020
Sometimes while writing you get distracted by other things and ideas randomly popping in and contaminating a story. I play a decent amount of World of Warships, and have always enjoyed naval history, and while trying to figure out more of Hephaestus' personality and how to write him, well, the couple pages below happened. The initial idea that caused me to go down this path was the simple question of, 'What did he think of the Benevolence of Beauty? Did he see that as a challenge?' I thought I'd share this little passage.
Note: Nothing in here is canonical. It was just a snowballing bit of silliness.
Hephaestus’ workshop was filled with designs and sketches for marvels undreamt by ponykind. There were what appeared at first glance to be galleys, but in place of a mast was a large, towering structure that dominated the center of the vessel. Dimensions listed in the margain claimed it to be well more than eight-hundred hooves from stern to bow, an impossible length over four times that of even the largest, most advanced Equestrian ships-of-the-line.
“A theoretical project,” Hephaestus muttered when he saw her peering at the plans. “I replaced the wind generated propulsion you used with an aetheric-reactor driven steam turbine. For her main weapons, I upscaled your Iokan cannons to four-oh-six millimeters inside rotating, armoured turrets, with scrying-mirror targeting, firing a twenty-seven hundred pound shell up to thirty-nine kilometers, propelled by three hundred and fifty-five megajoules of energy at the point of being fired. To counteract any similar ships she may battle, I gave her three hundred and seven millimeters of carbon-aurichalcum belt armour. In case any foolish ponies in galleys tried to get close enough to throw spears at her, I also gave her twenty twenty-seven and one hundred millimetre guns in ten turrets—-five to a side, with an assortment of smaller guns.”
Rarity blinked a few times as she put the numbers to the diagram, and the blood drained from her face. “You’ve created a monster!”
Hephaestus shrugged. “I’ve made, and will make, worse. Already have ideas to upscale the guns to forty-six centimeters. And if I replace the explosive powder with an aetheric-magnetic rail driven system…” He trailed off and clicked his tongue, shook his head, and shrugged his wings. “Hardly matters. All theoretical. No practical purpose. A distraction of a morning spent wasted.”
“But, this would allow mortal ponies to fight an alicorn!”
Looking up from his latest work to peer at her over his glasses, Hephaestus gave Rarity a sad sigh. “That monster, as you call it, wouldn’t stand a gnats piss of a chance against even the lowest, most green of the Furies, to say nothing of the likes of you or I.”
“But,” Rarity pressed, “if it hit even us with those guns—”
“It wouldn’t even get the chance to fire them.” Hephaestus waved a dismissive hoof. “Because any alicorn who didn’t have their head placed firmly in their own colon would simply disguise themselves, or just teleport onto the ship’s deck, and cut her in half with a concentrated beam of pure aether. There isn’t a vehicle or gun that is a threat to us.”
“Yes, but what about our legendary arro—”
Again Hephaestus cut her off. “That isn’t a strength of the ship, merely the folly of the alicorn. A properly enchanted sword can do the same thing in a mortal pony’s aura if the alicorn is arrogant and stupid enough to walk into the blade. I did make a weapon once that could kill a god. A weapon so fearsome I destroyed the plans and burnt it from my own memory so I could never be tempted into recreating it.”
“Let me guess, the perfect sword or something like that?”
“Sword? Hardly. It was an explosive device the likes of which you can’t conceive. That is all I allowed myself to retain so as to keep the fear of it bright in my breast; the glowing, blinding white light that sears away the sight of all who dare look upon it, followed by the blooming mushroom of death that assaults you at the very core of your being, turning the ground to glass for miles and miles, and ripping apart the sturdiest walls for many more beyond.
Leave it to Hephaestus to create a Nuclear Bomb. Can't blame the guy for trying to figure it out, but glad he at least realised the harm of it
5390929
Guy just jumped straight to the Tsar Bomba...
5390947
I would tell him to chill, but... He lives in a literal volcano, and his wife is the hottest thing since the Sun, so... Yeah.
Good that he's keeping that thing under wraps