//------------------------------//
// Sanitize and Disinfect  
// Story: Birds of a Feather 
// by Kishin 
//------------------------------//

	"And...there goes all the warm water," Leif grumbled, as the showerhead slowly spluttered out streams of water that used to be luke-warm at best, but now currently cooling to a sample of water from the Arctic Ice Caps. He ignored the sudden change, and continued to scrub off his feathers and the mental image of...alcohol-induced vomiting. He shook his head, and continued on with the deed of preening himself of the filth of the prison, and also the puke. Sometimes he wished he wasn't a gryphon anymore. Feathers were a complete pain to have, and everything from pine needles to small nests clung to them like velcro to a wool coat. And now, he would have to include partially-digested food chunks and phlegmy bile to that list.

Leif could immediately hear the bathroom door squeak open in response to his complaint, the clouds of condensation whisping out through the opening crack of the door. A mare's head popped in.

Glimmer Rain giggled, "You say something? Oh, and before you mention it later, I kind of used all the ho-"

"I know," Leif attempted to place his voice on a demeaning tone but could only cough. Some of the condensation was inhaled into his lungs. "Thanks for that."

"Well, its your fault! I didn't know you'd spend a bloody hour in here."

Leif huffed, "Well, I needed to scrub my coat off until I see blood pouring into the drain. Dried puke isn't easy to get out of feathers, Glimmer. And you should know from experience."

Glimmer chuckled at Leif's sternness, which only annoyed Leif even more. 

"Ya, well, sleep early today. You gotta job interview tomorrow."

Leif pointedly stared. "What?"

"I gotta keep you out of trouble somehow. My bosses back at the garrison are watching your 'social reforming' process and all that jazz. To see if your a law-abiding citizen and not some psychopathic convict. Whatever that means", Glimmer folded her hooves in air quotes. Of course she wouldn't know. She was one. "And the sooner I get to stop powdering your arse for you, the sooner I get some time off for myself-"

"-In the local night clubs, I presume?" snorted Leif through the suds on his beak.

Glimmer Rain retorted, "Just because all the mares think I'm-"

"-full of it. Yeah, I can see the sexual appeal," Leif muttered. He turned off the water, and groped for the towel parallel to the opaque glass shower doors.

"Whatever. You're good with numbers, right?" Glimmer Rain ignored.

"Why do you ask. Don't tell me I'm going to a university for the interview. I'm not much of an intellectual, so to speak."

"Nuh-ah-ah! It's a surprise," Glimmer teased. She backed out of the misty room, leaving Leif to dry his coat.

He dare not show his true feelings. She got off of his misery, innit? Like a child?






The steady, nausea-inducing pounding resonating through her head woke up Trixie. Her mouth tasted like bland bile and a hint of regurgitation was lingering with every breath. Not to mention the horrible morning breath, whispers of bitter alcohol escaping every breath and word that was polluting the air inside her apartment.

She steadily got up and, while comforting herself on the disdainful state of her mane and coat, wondered if something had happened last night. Did she waltz in her room all by herself? Improbable. She specifically remembered seeing the bar room floor when she attempted to get back.

So...crawling was an option?

Trixie looked at her hooves. They were in a quite pristine state, despite spending her night in a lowly bar with a health standard grade outside that she specifically ignored with every sip of Applejack Daniels. The alcohol would have devastated any of the bacteria on the glass. So, she didn't crawl into the room?

Did somepony help her back up?

More than likely. But that was a choice she would rather not believe had happened. That meant someone had spent time with her alone when she was in her most vulnerable element: Drunk and raving mad. And they were able to open the door to her locked apartment.

She'd ask the bartender here. That was it! Didn't he own the rest of the complexes also? So he was sort of the landlord. He must have had the keys, and didn't seem that much shady when she first met him. So...he probably isn't the creepy, watch-you-sleep-while-you're-intoxicated type of pony. Right?

Trixie stood up steadily, levitated her trademark hat and cape over her body, and slowly managed to reach the door, careful not to make sudden movements to make the muscles on her scalp contract any more and contribute to the migraine-level ache she had in her noggin. Or rock the contents of her stomach. There she was, starting her new life with the most obscene impression she could ever make on other ponies. As a filthy drunk. And she suspected that she might have vomited last night.

Just a tiny bit...

She hoped that nopony was mad at her for that. But for some reason...

...all she felt that a patch of dark raven-blue feathers was significant to what she had done last night.







"Hello?" Trixie anxiously announced at the front desk. There was nopony here, and she was left alone in the dull sunlight procuring enough of light to show the bustling streets outside the main floor's doors.

"Umm...anyone here?" Trixie happened to run her eyes across the concierge service bell on the desk.

Well...they must have it there for a reason.

She tapped on the bell lightly with her hoof.

The ringing ding! summoned not a sound nor soul.

She tapped it again. And again. And she clipped her hoof repeatedly on the bell until sets of rapid dings burst throughout the room that made it sound like there was a solid thrum of ringing. 

Dingdingdingdingdingdingdingdingdingdinddingdingding-

"Ah, stop tha racket, ya mare! You were worse enough to carry back last night than you are now!" An old stallion appeared behind the desk. There was a name tag upon his bar apron: W. Hops.

"What d'ya want?" he grouched.

Trixie cringed at his grouchiness, but considered that she probably was worse last night.

"Err, I wanted to say sorry for whatever inconvenience happened last night. And I want to know how exactly you got me back up in my room?" Trixie apprehensively asked.

Hops coughed, "About time. Me an' another patron got you back there. Don't worry, we didn't do anything. We were helped...assisted...watched...you know what, she didn't even do anything except follow us."

Hops looked up at Trixie, realizing that his speech wasn't very encouraging. "Never mind that. A Guard helped us get you up. If anything, we all should be worried about you. Listen, you want to apologize to the poor bloke? The other patron, I mean."

Trixie furrowed her brow, her past arrogance creeping through her current persona, "Now why would I-"

At that moment, a memory of a sensation of nausea near a pelt of feathers. Blue feather.

"Oh. I see," Trixie gritted her teeth into a nervous smile, attempting to make light of the situation.

"If you're not busy, I'm sure he'd appreciate it. He's in Room 15. Near yours," Hops grunted. "That all?"

"Uh, yeah. Thank you," Trixie blinked as the Earth stallion reared himself back towards the room behind the front desk.

Trixie asked, while she had to chance to, "Do you know where the stairs are?"

"To your right, down the hallway at the end. The elevator had to be taken down for it to be up to building code...again, so sorry 'bout that," Hop's voice boomed from the room.

Trixie turned from the desk hesitantly, making sure that she didn't hear a building grudge in the stallion's voice, and followed Hops' instructions to the letter, trailed up the stairs onto the second floor where she encountered her own numbered door, Room 9.

She counted off until she reached Room 15, almost right across from her's.

Well...hopefully, they accept my apology.

As she stretched a hoof to knock on the door, echoes transpired through her mind of her false, broken promises, of promises of her reform, of her past affirmation to find new friendships. Her hoof shook as she knocked on the door.

Trixie hoped it wouldn't be like last time.





"You look spiffy, mate. Don't worry about it. And if you think the interviewer doesn't think you're right for the position, just accidentally flash your tattoo, and you're in!" joked Glimmer Rain. 

"That would mean for me an obligatory return to the dungeons, not a damn occupation, Glimmer," growled Leif. He sighed, trying to calm his nerves. Was it alright to be nervous before a job interview? His economic livelihood didn't really depend on it. He had plenty of 'reserve funds' still hidden across Trottingham from his Fenris days, if things ever went South for him. He tried to keep their separate locations from Glimmer, though. He didn't want his blood money, no matter how ill-gotten, to vanish away due to a certain Guardsmare on a spending spree. Not in this economy.

But, by Aeolus's name, he felt nervous. Maybe his tie was on too tight. Lief, realizing this, gave a experimental tug on the most important object of business apparel. Why? Because in a society where every creature under Celestia's sun is naked, keeping a business dress code is quite important.

Leif looked at himself in a mirror, stark pale (despite having a coat of navy blue and black feathers) in a dress shirt with the sleeves tucked and a tie. No, no, no. What did I do? I made the tie too loose. Crap, I have to tie my....tie all over again. Let me see, it was criss-cross, then over, then under? Or was it under, then over?

A knock on his apartment door interrupted his thoughts.

Leif hear Glimmer yell, "I'll get it!"

Leif rushed out of the bathroom, and towards the gleeful Glimmer Rain. As he ran up to her, he stopped her with a wing.

"I think I should meet up with any new people first," Leif reasoned. "Before they start associating you with me."

Glimmer pouted, "You say that as if it's a bad thing!"

Leif gave her a meaningful stare.

"OK, fine. You answer it," Glimmer rolled her eyes as Leif walked up to the entrance of his apartment and twisted the door handle.

He opened the door, only to reveal the mare that he had quite an ecnounter from last night.

"Umm...hello," The mare greeted in a shaky tone. "Had a good ni-?"

She interrupted herself before she could say 'night'.

"Uh, never mind that. Hello, I think we've met each o- No, not that! Ummm..."

Trixie nervously bit her lower chops as her mind raced to find a proper welcoming statement that would be quite neighborly, something quite difficult to be after throwing her sick at him.

Leif held up a talon, giving Trixie a moment of relief, "How about names, first? My name is Leif. And yours?"

"TRIXIE!" the mare burst out loud. "Ahem, I mean...Trixie. Sorry about last night. That's not what I usually do, barfing on other-"

She facehoofed herself. 

"I mean, I've never done that before in my-"

Another pause. Her voice was getting an octave higher with every attempt to speak.

"You don't mind that I-"

She stopped again, until a second later she squeaked hopefully, "No hard feelings?"

Leif looked at her carefully. She didn't seem like the type to usually do that type of stuff. Maybe it was that posh, mainland-Equestrian tone of voice, (or maybe it was the wide-brimmed hat and cape) but she seemed nice enough in her behavior. At least she had the guts to apologize.

Leif breathed out, "None at all." He felt a little tension slip off his shoulders (and saw some tension slump off of her's) as he said that, until his mind froze. He had his sleeves folded. She saw his tattoo. He could feel that at any moment, she'd run out from his line of sight, pack her things, move out of the country, and lucky enough to consolidate her present status in life. He wished that you could remove it, but the bloody thing was there for good. A sign of his past. A social curse that would dispel all social interaction. But she didn't. She just stood there, giving his arm an extra look, but passing her eyes on up to his face nevertheless.

Curious.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, you're not from around here are you?" Leif presumed.

The mare magician said, "No, I'm from the mainland." She looked at her hat and cape, and asked immediately, "What gave it away? Was it my choice of clothing? Or my accent? Or-"

"No, no, no. No need to fuss. We don't get a lot of non-natives visiting Trottingham. Just surprising, that's all," Leif shrugged. "What? Did you think I was going to persecute you for it?"

Trixie chuckled a little too forcefully, "Heh-heh...no."

"Well, glad to see some ponies like you moving here. Gets lonely somtim-"

Leif was knocked away from the doorway, Glimmer using her body as a battering ram to get to the new visitor.

Licking her hoof, Glimmer combed her mane with it in the stereotypical stallion pick-up motion, and said, "Hey there. The name's Glimmer Rain. How about you and me-"

"Oh, sorry. I'm not into mares. Did I confuse you?" Trixie innocently informed. Glimmer's face fell, as well as her charm. 

Rejection does that to you. That, and sexual preference confusion.

Leif picked himself off of the floor, and stated, "Now, before we embarrass ourselves even further in front of our new neighbor, Glimmer, you were supposed to direct me to my new job?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Trixie approached. "Are you two...close?"

There was a strict silence hanging in the air, catalyzed by her comment. It was only a logical question. She saw a male and female living together in the same apartment, giving each other conversations that radiated familiarity, but having enough playfulness for an outsider to think that they were somewhat included in some sort of relationship. Family, romantic, or otherwise.

Leif laughed all of a sudden, "Oh yeah, Glimmer could only wish."

He directed a talon next to him, to which she responded with a "Don't flatter yourself!" 

"To clear things up, Glimmer Rain's my adopted sister.  She stayed for the night because she was too lazy to get to her own flat. Or take a trolley to our parents' home."

"I object to that! Watching you guys get her drunk flank into her room was tiring enough for me! And you owe me for getting you out of pri-"

Leif muffled her mouth with a wingful of feathers. "Well, would you look at the time! It's nearing my interview. You have to show me the directions out of here, don't you Glimmer?"

The pair bustled out of the apartment and down the hallway, or rather Leif pushed Glimmer towards the direction of the exit on the second floor.

"Nice to finally meet you, Trixie. If you need some help, or some friends to talk to, just come visit us for whatever reason, really," Leif advised kindly.

Trixie raised a hoof apprehensively behind their rushing motion, returning to her original shaky, nervous tone, "Actually, do you know where I may find a job as an entertainer? For magic shows, and such. You see, I used to be a magician."

Or more like a money-gician.

Leif hurriedly blurted, "Try Bunson's. It's down the street, and it's always looking for some new talent during its club performances. Ask for directions, and when you get there, request a pony by the name of 'Side Show'. He'll audition you."

Glimmer now being allowed to trot on her own with an free mouth, tripped Leif as he wasn't looking near in what direction he placed his limbs.

"Gotcha back!" Glimmer Rain, much like a foal, shouted. She then proceeded to run away.

Leif explosively groaned. He turned before chasing after Glimmer, "See ya later, Trixie!"

Then Trixie was left alone in the hallway. It was dead quiet, except for the din of the streets leaking into the indoor interior of the apartment complex.

She stared at the spot that Leif used to be at the end of the hallway. She couldn't help but hear that one word, that one title, that Leif and Glimmer considered themselves as: 

"Friends to talk to."

Friends.