//------------------------------// // Confluence // Story: Unity // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// Wearing pants was stupid, but KitKat felt a bit of longing towards Jean-Louis Hardouin Michelin de Choisy’s khaki’s—they had a seemingly limitless number of pockets, even some contained within other pockets. She didn’t have much use for carrying around rocks or fossils, but there were little apothecary bottles and small wheels of emergency cheese, twine, soup stones—any number of small things that could be easily carried on her hind legs. And speaking of small things, after settling the bar bill, KitKat led Jean-Louis Hardouin Michelin de Choisy around town until she found a Baggies and Bedframes so that he could restock his sample bags. They didn’t have any with ZiplockTM closures, as nopony in Equestria was licensed to produce or sell them, so he made due with the more traditional pleated fold and close type. Sometimes she was one for making smalltalk—it helped the journey go by faster. Other times, not so much. KitKat had a feeling that any smalltalk she’d make might quickly turn into conversations about his fossils, something she had very little interest in. While Trilobites might be extinct, pillbugs and horseshoe crabs were still around and to her untrained eye it seemed quite possible if you put the two of them in a room together and played some romantic music you might very well get more Trilobites. As for the blastoids, there were still plenty of those around, mostly in places like The Forbidden Swamp and The Forbidden Bay and The Forbidden Pond and especially The It’s Not Technically Forbidden But it Really Isn’t a Good Idea Swamp (of Doom). That last one was nestled between The Cliffs of Peril and The Tree of Lingering Existential Dread, and you had to scale one or fight the other to even find the ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not A Forbidden Swamp,’ so ponies mostly didn’t go there. Still, a silent safari was stultifying, so she finally perked her ears and turned her head towards Jean-Louis Hardouin Michelin de Choisy, who was currently trying to retrace his steps back to Tom the Rock. “Is this your first trip to Equestria?” “Second,” he said. “A couple years ago I was fossil-hunting in South Africa, and we stopped for a couple of days. There weren’t any talking equines there.” That came out as an acquisition. “Really? I’ve been to Zebrica a few times myself and there were lots of equines. Never South Zebrica, maybe that’s the difference. What was there?” “Well, there—” “Besides fossils.” He shrugged. “Houses, cars, a shopping mall with an ice rink in it. Our hotel.” The he pointed. “There it is.” There it was, a majestic rock covered with pick-marks, surrounded with chunks of chipped-off rock, not as glorious as it had once been. Over on the other side of Tom, as-yet unseen, there was a lavender alicorn whose mind had just completed a reboot sequence, and a flustered alabaster unicorn who was considering fainting again as a way to move the conversation along. 👖👖👖👖👖 Meanwhile, back in Ponyville, the two torch and pitchfork mobs had coalesced. One of them started marching in the direction of Pearville, while the other was a more raggedy, less-organized mass, going business-to-business and house-to-house and horse-to-horse in search of Chell. Derpy, Sparkler, Dinky and Chell didn’t know this. If they’d have been invited to one of the torch mobs, that would have solved things really quickly, tied them up with a neat little bow—but they were reminiscing in Derpy’s backyard, drinking flower wine, or, in the case of Dinky, a juice box. Even if they weren’t really paying attention, they were all smart ponies (and one smart human). Chell set down her wine glass and looked at the three ponies. “Does something in town seem . . . off?” “It’s too quiet,” Dinky said. “I smell torches,” Sparkler added. Being a pegasus, Derpy flew up to take a look, then landed back in her backyard. “Torch mob.” Sparkler’s eyes narrowed. “Monster?” Derpy shook her head, and then four pairs of eyes regarded Chell (before you ask, she looked at her own reflection in the window. Since the ponies hadn’t invented float plane glass, her reflection was wavy and kind of monster-y). “They’re coming for me, aren’t they?” “We don’t know that,” Dinky said. “Could be they’ve finally cornered the cootie monster.” “That’s just an old mare’s tale.” “Nuh-uh, it’s Diamond Tiara, everpony knows that.” “Okay, that’s a fair point.” “Spoiled Bitch—Spoiled Rich passed that mantle on,” Sparkler explained. “Well, I hate to leave early, but. . . .“ Derpy paused in thought. They had more than enough perimeter security to defend their house against a mob of Ponyvillians, and more than enough guns to mop up any stragglers that made it past the layered defense systems, but she had little desire to mount a full-on assault against her friends and neighbors over what was surely a little misunderstanding elevated to mob justice. Just like a friendship problem, this would ultimately resolve itself after a while and things would go back to normal. “How about we just head off into the Badlands? Nopony would bother looking out there, we can catch up, and then you can head back to the enrichment center.” “I like that plan, but.” Chell held up a finger. “How do we get out of town without being seen?” “Oh, that’s no trouble at all.” Sparkler lit her horn and a moment later, a hatch in the backyard opened, revealing a tunnel. “Dug this baby years ago.” “In case the house got overrun?” “No, because Mom had a curfew and I wanted to see my stallionfriend.” The second torch mob was proceeding into the Badlands in orderly fashion. While it had started off disorganized and unruly, a leader had appeared to bring them to victory or at least frontier justice, and that pony was no other than Torch Song. Not only did she know the way, but she knew the mob song. You might think it was an original composition for the G5 movie, but it’s in fact a traditional pony song. Maybe Lily wasn’t entirely wrong about Torch Song after all. 🔥 | For those of you keeping track at home, there’s Tom (with some chips out of him); there’s KitKat and Jean-Louis Hardouin Michelin de Choisy, who is currently chipping more fossils out of Tom. There’s Twilight and Rarity, and there is one torch mob on its way, another that soon will be (Sand Digger, who happens to be visiting town, has a skill for digging holes and finding holes that have already been dug; she works for a mining interest out west), and of course there’s Derpy and company. There are also a bunch of frustrated crows still hanging around, I guess. For reasons of plot convenience, aside from the four who were already at The Rock, the other three groups arrived nearly simultaneously, from three different compass directions. 🔀🔁🔃 “Jean-Louis Hardouin Michelin de Choisy, I think it’s time for us to go.” “Not now, I just found a really nice Tentaculite.” KitKat shuddered—she knew a thing or two about tentacles. “Well, chip it off quick, ‘cause we’ve worn out our welcome.” “I’m paying you to guard me.” “Yeah, and part of being guarded is that you listen to your aantrekkelijk guard. I can only take on one torch mob at a time.”