//------------------------------// // Intermedio 1 // Story: Horsetangled: Act 1 // by dawnbreez //------------------------------// It is time to consider a new horse. This green horse with wings is named Dawn Breeze. He is 29 years old, and in another time, another universe, he would be banging smokin' hot mares in a timeloop. In this universe, he is stuck cleaning up other people's messes as an everyman hero with a really cool gun. He is constantly pestered by his annoying but cute twin sister, who inexplicably runs intel gathering for his missions. He speaks This often happens when his sister gives him the wrong fucking gun. We should probably consider the original group of horses now-- A gunshot rings out as Dawn punctuates that sentence with a single bullet point from his Snort and Whinny .500 revolver. The short, bassy report of the bullet point is very concise: There are Important Things To Do. I have to concur; we're not really allowed to return to the original horses until we've had a Proper Intermission. I only offered because some of you might be wondering why, and the answer is "because". Such is life. Dawn tilts his head and rolls his eyes. That shot left him out of bullets; he's gonna have to put in a call for more. He gazes up at the skyscraper in front of him, cursing his timing. There are Black Ties in the skyscraper. Dawn didn't see them, but he had expected them for years; he had been tracking their spread through the interdimensional gateways since he discovered them. Mindless thugs in the guise of wolves, seeking only to destroy. Demons, in a sense. His father had never warned him about demons. Putting a hoof to his earpiece, Dawn sent a message out... We now consider a similarly green horse with similarly fluffy wings. Her name is Rushing Winds and she's also 29, because she's the cute twin sister. She loves giving her bro a hard time because she knows she's one of those smokin' hot mares he'd be bangin' in another timeline, and yes, that is very lewd. Her other favorite things include convoluted steam machinery and being the center of attention, and maybe a little bit of teasing Dawn about his choice of reading material. What reading material, you ask? Why, Little Sisters Weekly, of course! It's a whole freakin' magazine about giving headpats and platonic snuggles to your siblings. She's not really sure why he's so embarrassed by it, or why people give him weird looks when she brings it up. But hey, it's funny. She talks with . A message pops up on her computerificator! She tabs over to it... rushie...i'm out of ammunition. i ran out RIGHT before the building... ...i know i shouldn't waste so many bullets, but that's not important right now... just give me my FUCKING gun already... She already knows it's from Dawn. He's the only one who sends her messages! He's a very dedicated big brother. Technically she's the older one, though. By, like, five minutes. Rushie turns to her big wall o' guns. There's five guns, but Dawn's only allowed to carry two because his Modus Offensive isn't ranked up enough yet. What sort of gun does he need? A graviton cannon? A flamethrower? A big ol' assault rifle? That dinky pistol that looks really cool but Dawn complains whenever he gets it? So many choices. She closes her eyes, spins a couple times, and boops a button! Dawn blinks as his next gun poofs into existence... ...aw what the fuck. It's the fucking pistol. Not his good pistol, not the revolver, it's that pistol. The one with the giant fucking scythe blade on the front that makes it impossible to use right. It's too heavy in the front to use one-hoofed and too large in the front to brace against anything, and the blade's facing inward so he can't even grip it with two hooves without risking a giant cut on one of his hooves in the middle of a firefight. Who the actual fuck designed this thing, it looks like someone at a fantasy MMO design department was handed the sketch from a twelve-year-old's shitty OC and told to make it happen. He angrily composes a fittingly-worded message back to his sister. ...WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, RUSHIE YOU'VE GIVEN ME THIS GUN LIKE FIVE TIMES IN THIS MISSION ALONE I KEEP HAVING TO FUCKING MAGDUMP INTO ABANDONED CARS AND SHIT BECAUSE I CAN'T BE ISSUED ANOTHER GUN UNTIL I USE THIS ONE UP WHO THE HELL CAME UP WITH THIS SYSTEM ANYWAY The reply comes back posthaste. i told you Dawny i pick them at random because i don't really know what you like you gotta tell me what you want so i can choose the right kinda rod you know what i'm sayin ...FUCK YOU well if that's what you want then hmu after the mission big guy NOT WHAT I MEANT Dawn groans, his head in his hooves. God fucking dammit this is almost as bad as last time. He has no idea why anyone would design a four-shot pistol to load three beanbag rounds and then an HE shell. Grumbling under his breath, he stacks up on the door--as much as one can stack up without any teammates, since he works alone--and takes a deep breath. We now consider the creatures on the other side of the door, inasmuch as they can be called 'creatures'. The Black Ties aren't so much 'alive' as they are controlled, despite appearances to the contrary. They move with a grace no puppet could hope to match, but puppets they are. They are lurking in this building for the same reason all thugs, riffraff, and miscreants lurk in random buildings: they must be intimidating, and one cannot make an intimidating omelet without breaking a few skulls. If any of them were capable of independent thought right now, they'd be shrugging and saying c'est la vie. KRAK The door bursts open, and a pegasus wackjob with a handgun starts throwing hot lead in every direction. Two of the Black Ties immediately eat some of that piping hot metal, and find it to be entirely too spicy for them. The other three begin a coordinated flanking maneuver that falls to pieces because that crazy winged son of a bitch decided to do a backflip through the center of the room instead of doing anything sensible. Speckled with blood and panting softly, Dawn checks the mag on that stupid fucking pistol, and thinks for a moment. rushie i am out of ammo again please send me anything but this Rushie blinks. Already? But there were only like five dudes in there, and he had like fifty bullets! She pulls up a video feed again. On the cameras, she sees five dead Ties...and Dawn, standing next to the letters "F", "U", and "C" spelled out in bullet holes. There appears to be half of a "K" next to the C. ...just give me the god damn gun already