//------------------------------// // Grim On a Stick // Story: Ofolrodi // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// One by one, in loose lethargic waves, the colored-eyed Dihmers of the stone warehouses marched up to the cliff overlooking the alien ocean of slime. They took turns pushing carts full of rejected junk to the earthen edge and then dumping their contents into the bubbling pink muck that lingered several dozen feet down below. The scavenged clumps of rusted randimosity struck the surface—where they either sank like anvils or were occasionally seized by an assortment of necrotic limbs belonging to over twenty different drowned species. A hint of leather, scales, and fur rippled up to the surface, spread apart, then sank back into the depths of the otherworldly ooze. One particular mare with purple eyes pushed a cart towards the edge. A few returning parties nearly bumped into her, seemingly not caring about the small-horned unicorn or her precarious load of junk. She maintained her balance, threaded through the crowd, and breathed calmly as she made her way to the edge. At last, when she got there... ... ...she ran into more than a little bit of trouble. The load in her cart was significantly large and bulky, and it was taking all of her strength to so much as tip the vehicle forward to dump its contents into the slime below. This turned into a veritable wrestling match, with the dirt edge of the cliff above the ocean crumbling away and the wheels of the cart wobbling and threatening to snap off at any second and the Dihmers waiting behind her shifting in tense deadpan impatience and sweat dribbling down the trembling unicorn's emaciated body as she pushed and shoved and struggled and nearly slipped— Flaaaash! Suddenly, all of the junk in the cart lifted magically. She gasped, leaning back and watching with wide, purple eyes. The metallic bits floated out of the cart, hovered off the cliff, then neatly fell into the ocean below like clockwork. As the debris field cleared, the mare could see several feet across the gap to where a balding unicorn sat perched on another cliff overlooking the estuary of pink goo. "... ... ..." Flynn's metal lens rotated as he raised a hoof in the glow of his horn and waved at her. She scowled for a brief second, sighed, then chanted a two-word mantra over and over again to herself. Ripping her gaze from the Heraldite, she turned right around and pushed her cart all the way back to the line of metal warehouses. Flynn's ears drooped. With a defeated sigh, he slumped down and rested his chin on his fetlocks. His nostrils flared, blowing dust off the earth so that it floated gently to a pink death below. Not once did he take his good eye off the one pony in particular. At some point, he became vaguely aware of a crunching... munching sound directly behind him. "So... uhhhh..." Another munching sound, and Ariel's voice bled on through. "...who's your new marefriend?" "!!!" Flynn spun his head about to frown at her. "She's not my marefriend!" "'She,' huh?" Ariel bit another large chunk off a ragged brown morsel held in her hoof. "Mrmmmfff... you don't even know her name and yet you're stalking her?" "I'm not stalking anypony!" Ariel craned her neck. "Sitting on a cliffside? Using your built-in spyglass to oogle a mare dumping rusted shit into a bubble bath of doom?" Another bite, a swallow. "Seems pretty damn stalky to me, bud." "I'm just... just..." Flynn fidgeted under her gaze. "...making observations of the local culture!" "The local culture with a slenderer muzzle, you mean." He frowned. "I mean it! There's something different about this pony!" He pointed at the warehouses across the bay. "About all of these ponies in particular! They're..." His words trailed off as he blinked at her meal. "... ... ...what the buck are you chewing on?" "I dunno." Ariel gulped. "Nopony we know." Flynn recoiled, teeth clenched. "Arrrrrriellllll—" "Relax..." Ariel smiled, rubbing juice off her muzzle. "I bought it from some of the Meat-Blooders peddling their wares outside the foundry. They gave it to me for one of the half-spent manastones that survived the moonblast! According to them, it's the tastiest piece of something called a 'Zoom Cow.' Heh... whatever that is." Flynn blinked. "You bought that off of goblins?" "Mmmmhmmm." Ariel took another bite. "Best Zoom Cow I ever ate." She gulped. "The only Zoom Cow I ever ate!" She held the remainder of the meat out towards him. "You wanna bite?" "N-no thanks..." He shifted where he sat. "So... uh... Rainbow and the Herald's making a splash with the goblins, huh?" "Yeah. No thanks to you." Flynn winced. "Sorry." "Should you be?" Ariel glanced at the warehouses across the way. "The way you just... took off without warning, I figured it was something important. What's so special about this chick anyways?" "Ariel..." "I mean, to each their own, but I prefer a girl with—y'know—some bucking fur on her." She shrugged. "Is that such a big deal?" She smiled. "Oh, and a mane. Can't have cuddles without brushies. Heeheeeee—" "Beggars can't be choosers on the Dark Side, Ariel." "So—which is you and which is this mare in this case—?" "It's not like that!" Flynn frowned. He brushed back bangs that weren't there and sighed. "Look. All of the Dihmers we've seen have gray, lifeless eyes, right?" "Sure...?" "But not this mare... or others relegated to this... caste system of junk-sorters." Flynn gestured towards the stone structures. "They've got colorful eyes and..." He looked back at the pegasus. "Their blood glows." "No shit?" "For real. I mean... it's way dimmer than our blood here..." Flynn would have gone cross-eyed if his lens felt up to it. "Er... no pun intended." "Why do these locals have glowing blood and the others don't?" "You want to know what I think?" "Do I have a choice?" He looked across the estuary again. "I think it's because they've been here less. They're... like... younger than the rest of the Dihmers?" "How's that possible?" Ariel finished the last edible portion of her meat and threw the rest of it out beyond the cliff to become pink-food. "Urp..." She stifled a burp. "I thought the Dihmers were descendants of changeling-nabbed ponies." "Just think about it, Ariel." "... ... ..." She blinked at him. "...they're former Emeraldinians and Darkstinians." Her lips pursed. "Scattered remnants of Gwen's Expedition?" "Wouldn't that be friggin' wild?!" Flynn exhaled. "Some of Gwen's and Warhol's fellow soldiers probably had to settle here once the party thinned out enough. Those who managed to survive acclimated to Dihmer culture and... here they are now." "Seems like they're blending right in." "Not..." Flynn winced. "...exactly?" "Oh?" Ariel leaned in. "What's wrong?" "I don't know." Flynn took a deep breath. "But I aim to find out." He looked at her again. "All we have to go by so far is the scant journal entries left by Ranort. But if maybe... somehow these 'It lingers' Dihmers are in possession of even more history... then wouldn't it be in our best interest to learn about it? So we can paint an even better picture of what lies ahead before us and Rainbow Dash?" "Well, sounds like a mission and a half for you, Flynn," Ariel said. "But be careful, okay, dude?" "Don't worry." Flynn smiled confidently. "The Dihmers are grim, but they're only violent to themselves. I doubt they'll try to hurt me if I pester them too hard." "That's not what I meant." Flynn blinked at her. "Beneath the bald nerdiness and short fuse..." Ariel's eyes reflected him warmly. "...you're a real sweetheart underneath. Don't pretend that you're not." He bit his lip. "I... wouldn't get too attached to anyone on this side of the world, bud," Ariel said in a a soft, neutral tone. "It'll be difficult enough just bringing our asses back to the Light Side after the Midnight Armory. So don't stick your hoof too deep in a vice or nothing—if you catch my drift." Flynn gulped. "All things considered, the same could be said about us getting too attached to each other." "Yikes." Ariel smirked, hovering up on flapping wings. "Say Mister, I think you got some grim on my dark." "Jee, I'm sorry." Flynn waved at the death ocean of bubbling fuchsia and eyeballs. "What a shame to ruin this most picturesque moment." "For us, it's shit. But for these ponies... it's home." Ariel flew away. "Try not to shake her too much, okay, Flynn?" He merely nodded, staring off. "I'll be with the rest of the group by the foundry. Be home by ten." "Okay Mom." Sighing again, he rested his chin down on crossing forelimbs. "... ... ...how come they gotta be so dayum purple?"