Chrysalis watched Taylor sleep, more out of the possibility he might damage more property rather than personal enjoyment. Some ponies in town wondered why she put up with him, and their questioning was justified. Yes, the human could be over difficult to keep track of, but the queen owed him her life. It didn't matter that he was also the reason her life was in danger, at least not to her. It was known by the princesses and much of the Canterlot elite that Taylor was rather unusual when it came to his companions; he may not be nice to them, but heaven help whoever hurts someone the teen cared about. This even applied to Chrysalis, even though the tanker claimed to only keep her around because he deemed her useful.
He was lying, of course. After about the first week of her capture, the human had started being nice to her, trusting her. Then he started taking jabs at her whenever he could, playfully calling out deficiencies she had in certain areas in a way that wasn't rude or insulting, but still promoted improvement. Right about then, the broodmother felt his emotional stance on her shift to one of friendship, or whatever his closest analog for that emotion was. The slightly-unstable teenager had gotten over his hatred of physical contact enough to actually share a bed with the queen. That sort of comfort was easily noticed, and it had finally attracted unwanted attention.
With Matron Karapass or her praetorian guard nearby, there was little room to maneuver. While Chrysalis had been able to defeat Celestia using Shining Armor's love for Cadence, changelings being more like batteries that converted emotions into magic that could be stored until needed, the Grand Matron was likely that powerful on her own. In that sense, the dethroned queen could understand Taylor's fear, especially with the memory of him cowering before her at the wedding. Unlike then, a borderline-suicidal gambit involving a massive tank probably wouldn't work now. At least Matron Karapass wouldn't come to Ponyville herself if she didn't have peace on her mind, not that the thought of speaking to her wasn't horrifying in itself.
Chrysalis sighed and crawled into bed with the unconscious teen, making as little noise as possible. It would probably do her good to catch a nap, fully aware that Taylor would be awake at the first hint of the door moving. That boy was a strange one; the broodmother could shout all she wanted and he wouldn't wake up, but if somepony opened the door to wherever the teen was sleeping, he'd be lucid in an instant. Those situations usually involved a gun, preferably one of the larger calibers they'd looted from dead bandits in the Borderlands. The changeling giggled to herself, briefly wondering what went on the human's mind when he did things like that.
A smile flashed across her face when she realized she could do just that.
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I wonder why the statue and I hadn't thought of this before now. The choice seemed so obvious I almost thought I was an idiot for not having the realization sooner. The game we played was ancient and fair, something meant to be played between two strategically-minded individuals as a way to prove mental superiority. That being said, our game of chess was at a complete standstill. I had my pieces arranged to form a barrier between my king and the statue's aggressive movements. I had already removed the threat the sculpture's queen and rooks provided, but both bishops and one rook remained.
Soft clacking on the marble floor roused our attention as an unexpected guest made their presence known. Chrysalis, or maybe just a figment of my mind taking her form, walked towards the table, curious about what the sculpture and I were doing. A seat materialized next to me, and I wordlessly offered it to the possible illusion. Personally, I found the queen to be strange. Sure, we used to be enemies, and at one time I'd planned on killing her as soon as she stopped being interesting, but she'd really grown on me. A small part of me worried she was hypnotizing me over a period of weeks, but I knew that she wouldn't risk something like that, not when there were so many eyes on her. I gestured to the board as soon as Chrissy sat down, offering my next move to her in goodwill.
The queen used a knight to put the statue in check, and the offending piece was taken by the remaining rook. I used my queen to capture the final board-sweeper; so long as the sculpture didn't pull some crazy move out of its ass, I would win in three moves. Sadly, that seemed to be just the case. It took eighteen moves to finally settle things, leaving me with my queen and statue's only knight occupying the board alongside our kings. Chrysalis actually did most of the work, complementing my patient strategies with her more predatory movements until the statue could do nothing to stop us. I was ecstatic, even though I knew the maneuvering I would take to eliminate the pesky knight, victory was almost assured.
I had the changeling to thank for that, and the chapel we were in showed my gratitude. The scenery shifted to the Marehouse, flammable fluids were spilled about the floor as a scraggly version of me ran away from the big, bad queen. I could feel the broodmother at my side stiffen in fright, perhaps worried about the results of opening these old wounds. It was probably the greatest example of mixed signals I could create, but I wrapped an arm around her midsection. The sudden contact startled her, but she moved in closer, obviously not put off by my behavior. The statue seemed to take great delight in the display. Just before the part where I tossed the lighter down, Chrysalis and I looked at each other, remembering how that moment led to all the shit we'd been through together.
The damned statue used some psychic power of whatever to push our faces together.
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While looking into dreams was considered rude, Chrysalis certainly wasn't complaining with the results. The unexpected slamming of lips had woken both of them, but they hadn't exactly cared that this was the real world. A wandering hand snaked to the queen's ribs, the inquisitive fingertips drawing a delighted gasp as they rubbed over the sensitive exoskeleton. A slight chuckle came from the teen's throat, something that struck a nerve in the changeling broodmother. With a growl, she planted a hoof on Taylor's chest, intent on sh-
“Am I interrupting something?” Both participants jumped away from each other, red and green painted across their faces. The human and dethroned queen looked at their observer, even as a hand went for a gun. The visitor was a red pegasus mare, and Taylor knew he hadn't seen her around town before that afternoon. The stranger looked the teenager up and down, observing every scar and blemish that marred the evolved ape's exposed chest. A look of mirth crossed her face as her eyes flashed emerald green. “Chrissy, that one's barely more than a child, you could have done so much better.”
“Mom?!”
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Extra – Ain't That a Kick in the Head?
[Local Time: 14:56][Location: Cannot Connect to Local Beacon]
“How do you stand the heat?” Lyra levitated Taylor's jacket over her and Trixie's heads in an attempt to beat the heat. The larger of the two teenagers kept his .38 out, ready for any nasty surprises that might come their way.
“Evolution.” Despite the claim, the technophile's exposed skin was already blistering under the sun's rays, turning the flesh an angry red as time passed. The group kept walking, making sure to keep the vital electronics safe from any sort of harm. The El Dorado gas and service station had been a distant shadow an hour ago, but the building was becoming their only option as the sun started to set. Jay and Taylor knew exactly what kind of monsters crawled from their dens when night fell on the Mojave.
The old door provided much more effort than one would think, but proved that no one had been inside the structure in some time. The four-person team searched for everything they could find, which was little more than a few sarsaparillas and a handful of bottle caps.
“Taylor, we got a gun cabinet over here.” The flautist pointed at the locked storage unit, fully expecting his friend to magically open the thing. Without so mush as saying abracadabra, the short-haired youth shot the lock out. Inside the treasure trove was a small box of fifteen .357 rounds, as well as two broken-down revolvers of the same caliber. Jay ignored the two pistols in favor of the varmint rifle, hoping to counteract the weapon's pow power with its higher accuracy. The two humans handed a few bottles of clean water to the pair of mares, letting them have their fill.
“Listen, we need more power; the gun just won't work without more juice.” Taylor went to work on his new toys even as he spoke, and he obviously wasn't above using components from his grandmother’s pistol to build a decently-preserved weapon from the three revolvers. The human's fellow ape understood exactly what he meant.
“You can't be serious.” There were only two options for the group, and both were shitty. But Taylor would surely go with the choice that guaranteed at least a fighting chance. “This is insane, but it might be our only real solution.”
“Yeah.” The gunner sighed once. “Get as much rest as you can; tomorrow, we set course for Helios One.”