//------------------------------// // 3. Mighty // Story: Stalliongrad Nights // by TCSNxs //------------------------------// Stalliongrad Nights by: TCSNxs Chapter 3 Mighty Of all the places in Equestria, the city of Stalliongrad has perhaps the bloodiest history of all. A good number of battles have taken place within the city proper, some being among the most storied and gruesome affairs in the history of Equestria. This is due to a number of factors, with strategic and economic considerations being primary among them. That said, holding a jewel like Stalliongrad always has had political importance. ~ Excerpt from "Military History of Equestria" Mac never made it habit to visit the confines of bars too much. All things being equal, the libations of alcohol were few outside of the family cider he drank. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with the effects of too much drink in such settings, he just didn’t make it the foremost pleasure of his life. But the night was still early and there was little else to do. He ran a brush through his yellow short mane and adjusted his trademark yoke before exiting his room. “Ah want you to enjoy yourself while down there,” he recalled his sister's instructions. She didn’t get into specifics of such things though. Ultimately, his choices were to count the points and crevices in the spackled ceiling, read the same notes for the discussion panel as he had a hundred times times, or find some entertainment for the evening. He decided to warm up in one of the Waltrot National’s many bars that littered the main floor. The hotel sported a wide variety of establishments in which to lose one’s self, but all had the same purpose of working towards tomorrow’s hangover. Or regret depending on amount of bits one was divorced from and the depth of the goggles such spirits naturally engendered. Mac took a casual saunter into one where Jazz was emanating from. Mac usually felt one place was as good as another, though the he purposely stayed away from the one blasting the screeching moans of Dubstep and Techno. Mac tried not to be picky about his music, but to him such “music” sounded like bullfrog mating noises that a blow horn was announcing to everypony. Big Mac strode to the bar while taking in the fragrant atmosphere of flavored tobacco and whiskey. The earth pony tending bar looked over the farm pony. He had seen a more then a few such ponies this evening, though certainly none that large, “What can I get for ya?” Mac realized he’d have to raise his normal volume to be heard over the din of musical notes and casual conversation, “Y’all have any cider?” “Might that I do, though it’s more of a hard variety,” the barkeep spoke as he dried his front hooves. He didn’t take his customers for idiots, but a pony had to be sure. “How about the Woodbuck? Any good?” The barkeep shrugged as he let the towel swing down on a small rack, “Good as any other. But you want something with a bit of a kick?” Mac thought about it for only half a second, “Sure. What ya thinking?” The barkeep smiled as if he were letting Mac in on a little secret treasure. Moving gainly to a tall refrigerator, he opened it and leaned down. Reaching to the back of the bottom shelf, he found that treasure and worked his way back to his hoofs. Mac spied the dark brown bottle with a small grin, being familiar with the design of the label. “Marticolt’s Pleasure,” Mac said with touch of approval. “It’ll be 15 bits.” Mac swore the bartender’s voice winked at him. After dropping the required coinage on the counter plus a few extra for a tip, Mac grabbed the bottle with his teeth and moved through the smoky atmosphere. Mac took it in. Though he didn’t indulge shisha, it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the myriad of smells that competed for his olfactory attention. The bar was spacious enough to allow Mac’s frame to move easily, but still busy enough that he had to navigate through a number of bodies without knocking them over. The music came courtesy of a band paying heed to the genre's Neigh Orleans roots with some bows to few modern ideals within it. Mac found an empty table across the room from the bar and placed his form down. After working the top off the bottle, he took a casual drink. Marticolt’s Pleasure was something he didn’t indulge much though not for a lack of trying. Stocks just weren’t available very much as runs were limited. The sweet apple taste blended nicely with the hints of aged oak. It created a smooth draw while the aging created a nice kick. Of course Sweet Apple Acres did it’s own hard cider, but it didn’t mean Mac couldn’t scout the competition, right? Mac relaxed as the sounds and smells invaded his senses. He watched as a few ponies danced as they paying homage to the genre’s past paragons. Though Mac didn’t dance much, he could appreciate the sheer liberation it engendered as hooves flailed with near abandon. Sometimes, life was good. ~(0)~ Fleur de Lis was looking through the choices to partake a drink. Ultimately, she decided on a bar that seemed a bit more lively. Few ponies would know her here, so she was free to indulge herself. Her wore a fur-lined coat that nearly covered her form save for her flanks. She moved through the morass of equines to the Jazz bar. With a passing glance to one club that had some weird noise a few ponies with spiked manes called “music,” she arrived at her destination. “What’ll be your pleasure,” spoke the barkeep as he delivered a few lagers to their eager recipients. Fleur wasn’t rightly sure. She fumbled with her mane for a second, “Spring Wine?” “We’ve a few vintages,” the keep spoke as he motioned to a wine rack. “Ahh. Les Champs de Printemps ‘98. Good vintage,” Fleur spoke her alto voice a touch louder than normal. “A pony after my own heart,” the bartender spoke with a smile. Bartenders partially made their living by judging their clientele, and this one was a good. He worked his hoofs dexterously as he popped the cork and poured the tall glass for the mare. He replaced the cork, “20 bits, my lady.” Fleur produced the change and grasped the glass with her magic Having spied a seat near the end of the bar, she practically had to slalom around the seats and their occupants while making a mental note to keep her glass high. Fleur took a snoutful of the smoky air. She let it settle inside her lungs with that lovely burning sensation and decided she may have to indulge it later. She set the glass on the counter and herself on a chair. Halfway down the bar, a white earth pony with a trowel for a Cutie Mark watched Fleur. His mane was a stark black as were his eyes. Deciding that the band wouldn’t take requests for Charlie Maneiels’ “Discord Went Down To Appleloosa,” he moved towards an empty seat next to Fleur. Alcohol ever begged ponies to try and impress as many ponies as possible, but why not aim high. “Excuse me, do you have directions,” the earth pony spoke a touch of country in his voice. “To where,” Fleur asked, barely paying attention. “To your heart,” the earth pony flashed a triumphant grin. Fleur turned away to hide her wince. She was used to pick up lines. Most were cheesy, a few were good, while others still alluded to liking her haunch and wanting to wear it as a hat. She pondered for a second how to deal with this particular intruder in her space. She wasn’t particularly looking for company that evening, but she decided to run with it. She knew more than a few ways out of social situations in any case. She turned to look at the would-be wooer and gave a small bat of her eyelashes. The white earth pony took the signal and parked himself. He was bit shorter then Fleur and though he wasn’t entirely unpleasant to look at, neither would he win any beauty pageants. “Mmm,” she took a sip from her glass, “Tell me, what’s your name?” “Cement. Cement Truck.” “Oh by Luna’s farting arse.” “Really! Do you have family?” The worker pony took a drink of his lager, “Yeah. I got family from here to Canterlot.” “Interesting," she lied, but her curiosity was peaked, "You wouldn’t happen to be related to a Hayseed Turnip, would you?” The white pony’s eyes opened wide for a second, “He’s my cousin. You know him?” “I had an occasion to... meet him one morning,” she took another sip of her wine, “he was attempting make a hit on Broadway last I recall.” “Really? Hayseed never told me he was a writer!” “The acorns never fall far from the tree.” ~(0)~ Big Mac finished off his Marticolt’s. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but Mac wasn’t really in a hurry while taking in the entirety of the bar. Many ponies were indulging in idle conversation. Of course, most was fueled by alcohol to ridiculous levels of claims and verbosity. The band had retired in place of another. Their music was a bit slower, but still full of it’s own flavor. A number of hookahs were in full action as ponies took turns inhaling the charcoal-lit tobacco. Between the smoke, music, and conversations, the atmosphere was casual but lively. Mac turned his attention to the bar. A few ponies looked ready to make the walk of shame to where ever they would be from. He noted a cream colored mare talking with a white earth pony. Mac couldn’t hear the conversation, but could guess the earth pony wasn’t quite making the impression he was aiming for. There was a half-dozen empty bottles in front of him, while the wine a single, half-full glass was in front of the mare. Mac looked over her form. The two-toned mane of pink and white complimented her angular features well. Mac wondered if she were a model? Mac appreciated the subtle warmness his body was experiencing thanks to the Marticolt’s (as well as the tingling on his sleeping posterior) and decided to head out for some air. He nodded to the barkeep as he took his leave. The bartender nodded back in acknowledgement to the departing red stallion. ~(0)~ The fine example of the Truck family was noticeably snoring as his head rested on the bar. Warm drool was beginning to form a pool below his mouth when Fleur decided to take her leave. The wine was enough to make her warm as she decided to take in the evening air outside. She drew tight her coat and strode into a park cross the street from the Waltrot. Bushes lined the walkways as some vestiges of snow covered the grass, a fair portion of it loose from a recent storm though the walkways were clear. She moved along as a casual pace with no particular destination. Soon she found a tall fountain. The moonlight overhead gave it a near mystical illumination. At the center of a large circular pool, three earth ponies stood erect on the base, their forehooves holding up a disk with with two alicorns striking a regal pose. The sculpture itself looked quite old as the facial expressions were nearly worn away and while sculpture was green in certain spots. Still, there was beauty in it that drew Fleur in. “You got a date, honey?” Fleur whirled around as she faced three ponies looking at her, a pegasus, unicorn and earth pony. They were larger than the usual Stalliongrad stock. The earth pony had a wicked looking dagger in his mouth while the unicorn had a spark of magic on the tip of his horn. Fleur could easy enough guess their intentions as she looked for an escape route. The earlier indulgences of the evening still begged to answer despite the situation. “Can’t say that I am. Perhaps you know where I could find one? I’ve had horrible luck with the classifieds.” "Might that I do, miss," the unicorn approached a few steps while the pegasus and earth pony fanned out, "Might that I do." Fleur considered her options, well guessing that whatever spell was on the mind of the unicorn wouldn’t be to her benefit. She could attempt to grab one of them with her telekinesis, but she doubt she could do much with it before the other two ponies overwhelmed her. Obviously teleporting was out of the question. Yelling and running were the only options left to her and she chose to execute both. She bolted to her left, trying to angle past the pegasus. Not caught entirely by surprise, the winged pony gave a sharp snap of his wing, disrupting Fleur's progress before it really began. As she clumsily fought to regain her balance and avoid toppling into the pool at the base of the fountain, she realised she didn’t need to bother as she were seized in a green aura. As the three assailants moved off to a secluded area behind a row of bushes with her in tow, Fleur desperately wanted to be elsewhere at the moment. ~(0)~ Mac was looking up at the sky within the park. The cold wasn’t bothering him as much as he thought it would as he looked up, recalling the stories associated with the designs painted in that sky. Though he knew what the constellations were,but they were somewhat out of place as if it weren’t his sky. The snow-filled park was quiet enough as he kept to himself within a field of white. His solitary repose only lasted a few moments as he caught a glance of group of ponies walking past him. A green unicorn, a darker green earth pony and magenta pegasus seemed to be stalking something. Mac knew the look from having done his fair share of hunting Fluttershy’s rabbits in his orchards. It was a predator’s look, and one that didn’t sit well with him in this instance. Of course, Mac had never hurt the butter colored pegasus' animals, but looked to scare them away from his precious apple trees. It didn’t take much to realize they weren’t looking for a apple stealing rabbit with the earth pony’s dagger sheathed within easy reach, so Mac took it upon himself to follow. Normally, he wouldn’t involve himself with others business, but neither would he let somepony come to harm if it could be helped. Mac followed as a distance, trying to keep his hooffalls as quiet as possible. Watching the scene unfold before him a fair distance away, he took some stock of the situation. Mac wasn’t entirely used to magic, but he could well guess what the unicorn could do. As such, that marked him as the most dangerous in Mac’s mind. The earth pony was next in his mind due to this rather sharp instrument on his possession. Mac watched the tall mare, the same one from the bar he realized, make a break towards the pegasus before she was knocked off balance. Mac continued to move as silently as he could as they hauled off their catch to the secluded area. He watched the unicorn lower their prey to the ground as the other two ponies grabbed her forehooves, the earth pony having resheathed his weapon. The mare’s horn lit with a rose pink aura as she tried to break free. A quick hoof in her stomach knocked the wind out of her. They placed a strange looking ring on her horn after the brief tussle and the aura died away. As they physically restrained her, Mac’s cheeks flushed with adrenaline and anger. This wasn't sitting right him and he couldn't live with himself if could have done something to prevent it. As his father told him, a stallion never harmed a mare. Mac plotted his course, still purposely keeping his hooffalls silent on the walkway. He wasn’t a hoof boxer, now was he skilled in any particular martial art. However, he had seen his fair share of foalhood fights and he knew how to use his body to his advantage in close quarters. Mac moved a quickly as stealth could afford him before he broke into a gallop, his muscles preparing to tighten. If Mac didn’t know better, he could have swore he was actually smirking before he quickly closed the distance. ~(0)~ Fleur meant to fire off a spell to grab the unicorn. She meant to do a lot of things before she felt her magical touch die away. Restrainer rings were usually a tool reserved for those who dealt in justice, but there was no justice in this! She tried to break free, but the weight of numbers proved too much. The struggle to regain her breath was enough of a challenge. She closed her eyes as the unicorn approached with an aggressive avarice in his eyes. Fleur closed hers, again wishing she were elsewhere at the moment. "Eh, grab her coat," she heard one of ponies speak. "And what else? It seems like such a small haul," said one of the others in a higher pitched voice. Still a third spoke, "Maybe we could take something else? She did say she was looking for a date." Fleur grew pale as her mind waged a war to keep those images out of her head. It was all she could do at the moment. What came next though was unexpected as she heard a loud smacking thump, as if ponies were colliding in Hoofball. She felt the hoofgrip on her right was gone and loosened on her left. She opened her eyes quickly to see a mess of limbs and bodies rolling away. Fleur swore she saw a big green apple half on the flanks of the an unfamiliar red stallion. It hit her quickly that the stallion, either intentionally or sheer dumb luck, bought her what she needed. A chance. She turned to see the pegasus looking rather nonplussed about the change in the situation as he backed a few paces. Fleur resorted to instinct. Having just enough of angle to the pegasus, she turned her body quickly and buried a hoof between the assailants rear legs. As the pegasus toppled over, Fleur hurriedly fumbled for the restrainer ring. Her hoofs weren’t as dexterous as she would have liked though. ~(0)~ Mac didn’t exactly think his plan through to completion. There wasn’t much time to work out the details, so he resorted to improvisation. Mac was at a full gallop when he collided with the unicorn followed by the earth pony. His sheer and speeding girth plus added impact of his large yoke had the desired effect of stunning the other two ponies senseless. After the tumbling morass of limbs and tails fell still, Mac scrambled to his hooves and waited for a target. His body was coursing with adrenalin while his muscles corded. The green unicorn was the second pony to recover. He gained his hoofs just before his sight exploded into a bright light and disfigured stars, courtesy of the hook from the big farm pony. While waiting for the knife wielding pony to gain his hoofs, Mac kept his smirk as shifted his weight to his forehooves. The dark green earth pony finally regained some composure before focusing on a giant, muscled rear. Mac was still smirking when he loosed a devastating snap of his rear legs. The farmpony could drop a tree’s worth of apples with a half-hearted kick from one leg. He could well imagine what damage he’d done to earth pony’s bones had he time to consider it. The earth pony became the first of his family in generations to take flight. He could have lamented on that fact had the trunk of a tree not so rudely interrupted his flight. He unceremoniously slid down the trunk and into dark unconsciousness. By that time, Mac turned his attention to the unicorn but found him holding his hoofs to this snout. The snow turned a dark crimson below his devastated face. Mac looked quickly for the pegasus and found him near where he left him. As the cream colored unicorn regained her dignity, the pegasus was fumbling for his though his hoofs were in the wrong place for it. He tried to gain his hoofing again, but Mac was behind him. The large farm pony snapped a hoof between the pegasus’ rear legs. The magenta stallion was unwillingly lifted off the ground before falling back down into a fetal position. It was perhaps dirty pool, but Mac always did what worked. Mac checked around for the cream colored mare, but she was nowhere to be seen. ~(0)~ The green unicorn kept clutching his destroyed snout. There was a feeling somewhere in that sea of pain of something being slid over his horn. Then there was a feeling of floating as he tried to regain his sight. The view of the world had a slightly pinkish glow to it as he felt the wind blow softly in his mane. It was soothing in a way. His view then focused sharply on the approaching statue. In his delirious thinking, there as an odd beauty to it, like all the meaning of life could be found in it if he stared long enough. There was also the sound of whistles? He kept staring at the statue. When he was younger, he used to imagine himself as belonging there with the Royal Sisters. Perhaps he could have had dominion over one of the planets? He understandingly failed to notice his approachment of the statue before a final burst of speed put his face square into the one of the earth ponies holding up the royal pair. His view exploded again into bright light before he felt the ice cold water. His reality drew back into a sharp, perfectly clear experience then. ~(0)~ The police of Stalliongrad were surrounding and pouring through the park as they arrived. Their police whistles were linked magically to one another so if one was sound, the rest within a certain radius were clued into the location. The racket of loud yells and unnaturally flying bodies drew the attention of one officer. The rest were there quickly enough. The initial responders found Fleur as she dropped the green unicorn into the pool. They quickly located the others. One wasn’t moving due his own shattered sexual pride, the other because of his shattered body. Mac was quickly taken into custody, but as information exchanged between the lawponies, Mac was let go and actually thanked. The brief time of shackles didn’t bother Mac too much. He understood in the chaos of the situation, things happened and they had a job to do. As the adrenaline wore off, he found that he wasn’t angry. Most if it had spent in ensuing scuffle. The uniformed ponies kept a presence around Fleur as she was shaken. They didn’t overly press her for information after the initial statements as the story coincided with the mangled ponies and what the first officer had seen. The ponies who tried to assault her were wanted anyway for a long string of offenses and they would get their day before the magistrate now. Fleur was furious for a lot of reasons and frustrated for none. Ultimately, she tried to find some peace again in the statue in the daze of the scene around her. Something about the sisters of the sun and the moon gave her a sense of perspective. This would be a blip in her life and nothing more compared to the broader meaning of existence. No physical harm was done to her in the end, but it wasn’t something she cared to repeat. Ever. Fleur felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she turned her head to see a massive red stallion look at her, a look of soft concern on his face. “Ma’am, you okay?” Mac spoke with his typical deep voice. The adrenalin had completely worn off, leaving the normally passive pony in a slight physical daze. She closed her eyes and wrapped the big farmpony in a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered as she let a tear escape for the first time that night. She wasn't sure if it was appropriate, but it hardly mattered at the moment. Mac breathed out the remaining stress, his steam from his breath escaping into the night as he wrapped a forehoof around her. He didn’t know really what to say, so he remained silent. The moon wound it’s way overhead, a passive spectator to the events of the night. At length, he decided that no words need be said. The giant red farm pony was bruised and sore from the collision, but otherwise okay. He watched as the three assailants were taken away, the earth pony being carried on a stretcher. That didn’t bother the normally gentle stallion one bit given the necessity of the situation. Fleur held the healing embrace for a few minutes to let her mind sort through the experience, which Mac obliged her in silence. He actually needed to collect his composure as well. It seemed that they were in their own private reality as the rest of the world moved without them. The reporters and onlookers such scenes drew were kept a respectful distance from the pair. Fleur eventually decided she needed to thank this giant of an earth pony in some fashion. She released the embrace and looked to his green eyes, “Can I buy you a drink? Celestia knows I could use it.” Mac always believed that a good deed was it’s own reward, but he wasn’t going debate her surprisingly sound logic, “Eeyup.” She looked over the tall stallion. He was surprisingly as tall as she was, but well muscled with deep green eyes. In truth, he was an impressive sight. “Thank you again, Mr.,” “Apple. Macintosh Apple, ma’am.” Fleur smiled a bit as her breathing resumed it’s normal calm pace. She was typically a strong willed mare, but she needed some company for her own sake, “Please call me Fleur. I do believe we are well past formalities at this point.”