//------------------------------// // The (mis) Adventures of Thunderlane // Story: Idle hand does the Discord's work. // by rathgood //------------------------------// Idle Hand Does the Discord’s Work The (Mis)Adventures of Thunderlane Early that morning… The gentle light of a waning moon streams through a window, illuminating a bed where two mares lay entwined in each other’s hooves. The only other light is the soft, pulsing of a green crystal. The time between each pulse gets shorter and shorter, until it’s a solid glow. The light is accompanied by the hissing release of pressurized gas. Now free, the iHand rolls off the bed and onto the floor. Under the protective skin, an LED screen comes to life, running a system diagnostic. Battery Charge………………………...……...................…..150% Motor Function………....................................................150% Temperature Sensors...................................................…150% Audio Command Input……………….....….....................…150% Touch Sensors…………………………….….......................150% System in Error. Device overcharged Excess charge must be safely vented. Activating Free Roam protocol. Pinging Base Station for location services. Lyra’s horn glows slightly in response to the magic resonance from the gemmed hand. Base station location confirmed. Commencing free roam and investigation. Activating sensors at maximum output. The iHand begins to stir and with the dexterity of a hand, rights itself and commences to walk on two of its fingers. Short pulses from its notification speaker are enough for it to map the room and slip out the cracked door and then out a window. Its sensors on full alert, it begins its trek to burn off the overcharge. ---------- Later that day… In an alley not far from the hospital, a bandaged Thunderlane slinks through the shadows, doing his best to avoid anypony. His left eye is covered completely by a medical eye patch and cold compress; the former to protect the eye from further damage and the latter to help reduce the swelling. Thunderlane’s own dark coloration helps him to blend in and disappear into the shadows cast by the taller buildings in Ponyville. Not wanting to draw any more attention to himself until he can figure out what the hay just happened, the unlucky stallion slinks further into the alley. “Let’s think about this,” he mumbles to himself as he settles down to think, a discarded pile of rocks further hiding him from anypony who’d cross the alley. “I was heading to the market before work this morning…” --------- One hour prior… The sounds of bartering ponies, bits hitting wood, and friendly laughter emanate from the market place below the descending Pegasus stallion. Running a hoof through his mohawk-like mane, Thunderlane smirks. “Looks like everything’s gearing up,” he glances between the overwhelming numbers of mares below, “but they all know the party don’t start till I get there.” Hurrying his descent, he lands just short of the outermost stalls near one of the houses that surround the town square. The blast of his wings knocks over the iHand perched on two fingers near the wall. Gyros destabilized. Investigating source of disturbance. Large heat source found in direction of disturbance. Sonic pinging target to identify. Pattern logged. Commencing observation. Stealing a quick glance in a window to ensure he looks like his normal, ravishing self, Thunderlane enters the market, shadowed by the iHand. The first stall on his circuit of the market sells a variety of flowers and is staffed by Rose, a pale yellow earth pony mare. Her red hued mane and tail playfully sways as she inspects the flowers, filling in the spots left empty from sale. “Morning, Rose, lovely as ever I see,” Thunderlane flashes his winning smile at the mare. Turning her head towards the newcomer, she smiles in that friendly manner that every shop keeper does. “Why yes they are, Thunderlane. Thank you. These are some of my best flowers yet this season.” “I wasn’t referring to the flowers, but I guess with you tending them day in and day out, your beauty has rubbed off on them.” Rose only rolls her eyes, “Flattery won’t get you free flowers.” “What about a date?” “No chance.” “I’ll take a half dozen Cloud Lilies, then.” She gathers the flowers into a small bundle, tying a string around the stems to keep them bound. “That’ll be 6 bits.” Pivoting his wing, Thunderlane retrieves the currency from his saddlebag. Extending his wing he drops the coins onto the counter and retrieves the bundle. His wing stows the flowers into the open bag as he walks past Rose. The iHand reacts to the movement of the air as the wing passes by. Gyro-stabilization compensating for increased wind. Target heat signature muddled…….......................Recalibrating Multiple heat sources detected. Locating elevated position for sonic ping Lowering itself to the ground the iHand springs up with a rapid twitch of its primary digits, landing onto the nearest object. Very quickly it scrambles up over a rose cutie mark and onto the solid, non-moving cart. The downward movement of the wing passing within a few inches of the iHand’s movement as Thunderlane passes by, his shadow hiding its presence. “I’ll see you again next week, Rose… Maybe then you’ll accept my offer,” Thunderlane says with a flick of his mane as he trots off. Rose, however, is in a slight state of shock. Did Thunderlane just feel me up? He’s never tried that before. Maybe it was an accident? He’s a creep yes, but a good-natured one. Probably an accident. Can’t hurt to keep my ear to the ground, just in case. Elevation attained. Releasing 180 degree ping cycle. Two sonic profiles detected. Analyzing sonic profile 1. Profile is a 87% match to primary heat signature. Logging profile……………………………........…..Profile logged. Battery Charge…………………………….....................…..130% Continuing analysis. Glancing towards the brash stallion, Rose shakes her head and turns back to her cart, barely missing the iHand as it scrambles up onto the stall’s awning. The hand bounces from roof to awning to tent, following the heat signature and sonic profile it was investigating. From stall to stall Thunderlane continues his shopping; only visiting those stands staffed by mares. His bags now contain various foodstuffs from the produce stands and an unneeded scroll he had to buy after seeing a cute snow-white unicorn mare working the scroll stand instead of the regular stallion. Ice queen, she just blew me right off with no emotion whatsoever. All the while, his second shadow follows him, continually pinging the unaware Pegasus. Increase in smaller moving thermal signatures detected. Reducing distance to primary target to 1 foot. Larger structures identified as optimal scan point. Smaller thermal masses determined to be at correct height for reaching structures with minimal energy expenditure. Continuing tracking. Using its embedded heat sensors, the iHand moves from mare to mare, using their backs as springboards to move to the various structures. Even then, the iHand stays within a wing length of Thunderlane, the proximity preventing the thermal and sonic signatures from blurring into the increasing crowd. Each movement of the iHand causes the pony it touches to stop and stare at the oblivious Thunderlane. Voices are raised, but fall on deaf ears as the Stallion continues to hit on the various mares running the shops and stands. The continued reaction of the mares to Thunderlane’s passing begins to ripple across the market and a wide berth is formed for the pegasus stallion. This causes the din of the market to slowly fade as Thunderlane approaches his final stop: the Apple family cart. Once again he dons his winning smile and looks over, only to see a large red stallion working the cart instead of the well-toned orange mare he had expected. Had it been any other stand he’d have skipped it, but if there was one thing he needed each week, it was apples. “Morning, Big Mac, working the stand today instead of Applejack?” “Eeeyup.” Looking over his shoulder, he sees a large line of mares has formed up behind him, apparently waiting for their chance to purchase Apples. “Still bringing all the mares to the yard I see.” Big Mac doesn’t respond. Increasing volume of thermal masses near target. Target lost. Elevation required for broad scan. Elevation located. The iHand moves in a series of quick jumps to the roof of a one story building located near the apple stand. Elevation attained. Commencing scan. Target found. Distance of 30 feet. Structure found at interval of 10 feet. Motors at 130% functionality. Directing power to motors. Commencing ranged movement. Behind the crowd, the black iHand goes soaring through the sky and over the target structure. Target missed. Impact imminent. Preparing for collision. The fingers of the iHand ball up in preparation to hit the ground, but instead bounces off of a trampoline placed next to its original destination. The momentum of the bounce sends the hand flying over the crowd and towards Thunderlane. Airborne once again, the iHand’s fingers unclench. Tough crowd. Thunderlane shrugs, “Anyways, can you drop a half bushel of assorted apples off underneath my cloud house later this…” A quiet voice and the gentle tapping of a wing on his shoulder interrupts Thunderlane. “Um, I was next…that is if you don’t mind.” Small thermal mass detected in close proximity to primary target. Adjusting descent. Thunderlane jumps slightly and looks down at the local animal caretaker. “Sorry Flutters, I didn’t notice you there.” I swear she could stand in the middle of an open field and be overlooked. Still, she’s one of the top 3 hotties here in town Opening his wings and bowing in a grandiose manner he continues, “By all means, after you.” The down sweep of his wings as he bows corresponds exactly with the iHand landing and sliding down the flank of the demure pony. Fluttershy’s scream echoes across the market. Thunderlane looks around, “Huh? What’s wrong Fluttershy?” Big Mac lumbers towards the frightened mare, who takes comfort behind the red stallion. “He….He…” She raises her quivering hoof and points it at Thunderlane, who looks confused, “My…fl…flan..eeeeeeep” “I did what?” The words barely leave Thunderlane’s mouth before a large hoof smashes into his face, immediately filling his eyes with stars. High volume sonic wave detected. Sonar disabled. Recalibration required. Massive increase in heat signatures obscuring target. Withdrawing from area until sensors are recalibrated. --------- Back in the alley… Putting a foreleg around a nearby pile of rocks, Thunderlane laments to it like an old drinking buddy. “Now I know it wasn’t me,” he says turning his good eye towards his ‘friend’, “but how do I prove that to everypony?” His question falls on the deaf ears of the three stacked rocks sharing the alley with him. Pausing, Thunderlane looks around, checking for any of the offended mares, or anypony at all. Sighing, he kicks a discarded can and stares at the sky above. “Am I such a bad stallion that all of them just assumed it was me? Maybe I seriously need to reevaluate how I do things…” “Hey, bub, youse should hunt down the fink what framed ya and make dem pay.” Startled, the stallion looks up, down, and around for the owner of the voice. “Yer a stallion ain’tcha? Don’t get all weepy and introspective. Listen to yer friend Rocky ‘ere. Show dem what’s what!” The voice is louder now, coming from his immediate right, Thunderlane stares at the pile of rocks in disbelief. Laughing to himself, he shrugs. “I must have been hit harder than I thought. Well, whatever. You’re right ‘Rocky’, I should find who or what was responsible. No two-bit colt frames the great Thunderlane. Maybe then I can show my face in public again.” With a dismissive wave of his wing to the rock pile and a sarcastic, “Thanks,” Thunderlane skulks off to the next piece of cover. “Whatta maroon,” the rock pile exclaims before getting knocked over by the iHand that fell from the rooftop above. Dislodged from the pile, a long pink hair drifts away on a gust of wind. Righting itself, the iHand twitches, disoriented from the unexpectedly hard impact. Target signature unable to be located. Elevated reading in error. Distance from ground miscalculated. Accelerometer reports larger than expected impact. Initiating full motor functionality test. The iHand goes through a serious of successive movements. Each finger joint moved to the maximum angle allowed. The mobility range check completed, the hand begins to prance around the alley, testing the motor strength. The second check complete, the device goes idle. Motor range…………………............................………..99.90% Range within system tolerance. Motor strength………………….....................................100.00% Strength within system tolerance. Motor functionality test passed. Battery Charge…………………………….....................…..115% Recommencing energy venting. Free roam mode online. By the time the iHand has completed its task Thunderlane is long gone. Not detecting any registered heat or sonic signatures, the iHand begins a wide range sonic pulse. The hemisphere of high frequency sound is focused more on detecting moving bulk than detail, so there are greater intervals between pulses and the spread is greater. Detecting no moving anomalies, the iHand pings the base station to check its distance and begins to follow a spiraling path centered on Lyra’s house. -------------------------- “Okay, not much further now. A good solid 100 trot aerial dash and I’ll be at the office. Then a few seconds after that, I’ll be at the empty locker room. I should have enough time to drop off my bags, trash the bandages, and be out before anypony else gets in. Simple as that. I’ll actually even be early for once - maybe things are starting to turn around.” Running his hoof through his beloved mane, Thunderlane glances at his bandaged but swollen eye in a nearby window. Wincing slightly, he continues, “Or maybe not.” Having kept his wings glued to his side for the past two hours, Thunderlane begins to give them a good stretch before commencing his dash. Estimated time till return to base station required...10 minutes. Continuing wide range sweep. Moving target acquired. Tight range scan commencing. Sonic pattern recognized. Primary target reacquired. The iHand takes notice of the stretching pegasus and begins to move towards Thunderlane. Still oblivious, the stallion finishes his stretches and sets himself into a sprinter’s start position. Checking left and right for any errant carts, Thunderlane spies something unusual in the corner of his eye. “Is that a black claw? Is that a WALKING black claw?” Thinking (which makes a record 4 times he’s considered things in one day) about what that weird talking rock pile had said earlier, Thunderlane can’t help but notice the claw is almost the exact same shade as his coat. “Could that be what framed me?” Forgetting all about work, his focus shifts to the mobile target, a predatory grin overtaking his face. “Whatever it is, I bet if I catch it things will get sorted out. Even if it isn’t the culprit, two can play at the frame game.” And with that he takes off in a dead aerial sprint, his pride on the line. Racing through the morning air, leaving a mild gray streak in his wake, the brave stallion takes aim for the foul appendage. DANGER Incoming heat signature. Impact imminent. Taking evasive actions. With the grace of a matador, the iHand sidesteps the charging pony and without missing a beat, continues on its journey. The same can be said for Thunderlane: Having missed his target he banks into a quick turn to try and swing around a tree to make a second pass. Misjudging the distance due to his bandaged eye, he flies straight into the tree and tumbles to the ground. Thunderlane lays there stunned for a few minutes before rising. Collision avoided. Primary target remains stationary. Investigating target. “Stupid depth perception! No wonder Derpy crashes so much. I think I owe her an apology for all those times I laughed when she ran into things”. The brave stallion, now bruised further in both body and pride, limps off to the locker room. “I’ll find wherever that Discord-damned thing is hiding and get my revenge,” he mutters, the prey now out of sight. The iHand approaches the groggy stallion from his blind side as Thunderlane inspects his wings for damage from the crash. A few tentative flaps later and he’s barely hovering above the ground. Primary target’s position changed. Reacquiring. Target is airborne. Scanning for options. Solution located. Commencing action. With a powerful thrust of the fingers, the iHand grabs hold of Thunderlane’s passing tail. The lightweight nature of the iHand does not alert the Stallion to its presence. The throbbing headache from the repeated head trauma doesn’t help him much either. Thunderlane gains further altitude and begins a zigzag flight path. The pegasus and his unlikely and unknown passenger begin to make their way to the cloud-based weather pony office and locker rooms. Situated near the outskirts of Ponyville’s commercial district and about 50 hooves above the ground, the Ponyville meteorological facility was a marvel of modern cloud construction. Built only recently, it was hoof-designed by the current weather manager for the district, each room having been built to her exacting specifications. Rainbow Dash had left nothing out, except for a locker room for the ever-increasing stallion population. Over budget, she had to sacrifice the back hall and one of the main locker room’s storage closets to makeup for her oversight. Crowding and building code issues aside, the stallions got their locker room. Thunderlane stands at the door apprehensively, the loud boisterous noises of his fellow weather stallions echoing from the locker room Please Celestia, no. He opens the door and is welcomed to the packed locker room by the cacophony being replaced by the sound of silence, complete utter silence. Gulping, he steps in and closes the door. Normally the stallion locker room is only twenty-four hooves wide and barely spacious enough for two stallions to pass each other. But, with all eyes on him as he makes his way towards his own locker, Thunderlane swears it was remodeled to be four or five times that long. Snickers break the tomb-like silence and forehooves can be seen gesturing at Thunderlane’s injuries. This was something he had hoped to avoid. “Hey Thunders, heard ya got caught wing tilling some plot this morning,” one of the pegasi calls out. Turning towards Buddy, Thunderlane stops and groans to himself, thinking Shit, it’s already gotten out. “Yeah, I heard you even had the brass ones to till Fluttershy’s while Big Mac was around,” Spectrum chimes in. “Looks like he worked you over some, but you should be glad you didn’t end up like that Eternal Ember fellow.” Great Scott adds his two bits in. Confused, Thunderlane presses Great Scott for further information. “Eternal Ember? Wasn’t he that the bright red unicorn that came down from Manehatten a year or two ago? I thought he just tucked tail and ran home.” Smirking, Great Scott nods. “Well, he kind of did, but in a full body cast.” “Come again?” Thunderlane gulps. “Yup, seems Eternal Ember was trying to romance Applejack and was making a damned good go of it. You know, flowers, helping out at the farm, saying just the right thing, the whole package. I really thought the colt was serious. That is, until he slipped up.” Buddy interjects, “Oh right, when Big Mac overheard him at a bar bragging to some of his upper-class buddies that, and I quote, ‘Farm mares are easy. Toss ‘em a few honeyed words and they’ll be eating out of your hoof. I’ll have conquered that plot by tomorrow night, marking the fiftieth for the year.’ Now you can imagine Big Mac had a problem with that. Oh boy did he ever.” Spectrum cuts in. “Wasn’t he delivering a barrel of Sweet Apple Acres’ best to the rooftop bar down the street?” “Yeah, Buddy and I were hanging out at the bar after work. Anyways, don’t interrupt.” Great Scott clears his throat and resumes the story. “Well, Big Mac turned round and bucked the smug idiot so hard he went flying through the door.” Thunderlane winces: he had gotten off lightly. “Down two flights of stairs,” Great Scott continues the tale, “out a closed window, and right into a cart piled high with manure that three fillies were trying to sell to get cutie marks.” Very lightly. Now a visibly paler shade of grey, Thunderlane gulps, “How bad was he hurt?” Spectrum fields the question, “Well, I was getting a drink with a cute nurse from the hospital not long after it happened. Seems he had three shattered ribs, two broken legs, a cracked vertebrae, a broken jaw, and last but not least, a yeast infection from the manure.” “Wait. Yeast infection? That means antibiotics injected…in the…meeep.” All of the stallions listening in whimper as the same train of thought that had just occurred to Thunderlane occurs to them. Buddy chuckles, “When Scotty and I saw-” “I hate that nickname,” Scotty interrupts. “Ahem. When SCOTTY and I saw it all go down-” “I hate you.” “We’d never seen Big Mac that angry. A lot of us stallions saw or heard of it and it’s the main reason most of us avoid trying to court Applejack. We like being able to eat solid food. And that is why you were lucky.” With an air of finality the conversation thread ends and another starts up about the next scheduled rain shower. Trying to be as small as possible, the beleaguered pony continues to work his way down the room to his locker at the far end. Logs indicate vertical movement. Triangulating location. Location confirmed. 50 feet above previously identified ground level. No structures of adequate height identified in area. Thermal sweep commencing. Thermal sweep complete. Processing results. Sweep indicates multiple thermal masses matching general phenotype of target. Sweep indicates cool mass surrounding thermal masses. Thermal signature matches type: Cloud. Sweep indicates large heat anomoly15 feet north of current location. Battery Charge……………………………...................…..107.5% Investigating anomaly. The iHand disengages itself from Thunderlane’s tail and works its way over the other stallions towards the detected anomaly. Noticing something is up with his passing, Thunderlane sees the angry glares coming from his fellow weather ponies. Some just write off the movement of the iHand as a result of the tight conditions, but others turn to Thunderlane and state that they ‘don’t fly those cross winds’. “Guys, whatever’s happening its not me!” One however seems to take great offense from it: a colossal white stallion with muscles that have muscles of their own, a blond mohawk, and small stubby wings. Steam billows from his nostrils as he appears to get angrier and angrier. The room quickly empties; most of the stallions fearing for their own safety lest they get caught in the carnage soon to fill the small space. Turning his head to the fleeing stallions Thunderlane shouts, “Screw you guys!” “You’d like that wouldn’t you Thunders?” “Buddy…I hate you.” Buddy beats a hasty exit, the door banging shut behind him. The two remaining pegasi look at each other, and in his trademark guttural voice the aptly named Horsepower speaks. “You… you… you really do care? I always kind of fancied you, but to know you like me back is just so AWESOME! Oh YEAAAH!” Thunderlane stands there stunned; he had definitely not expected this. “Now I prefer to date a few at a time and it may be some mares. Just one or two, if that’s all right with you,” Horsepower says with a wink and using his hooves, the colossal stallion begins to apply baby oil to himself, making his bulk shine in the enchanted lights of the locker room, “Gotta look good for the mares right?” Looking towards the heavens, the dusky grey pegasus only utters one simple statement: “Oh, buck me.” Proximity to Anomaly attained. Sonic sweep commencing. Sonic sweep complete. Anomaly identified as larger variety of targets phenotype. Battery Charge……………………………......................104.00% Excess power successfully vented. Commencing return to base station. The two distracted stallions fail to notice the iHand jump off the bench near Horsepower and onto the floor. Not being a pegasi or having the proper cloud walking enchantment, the iHand slips through the floor and plummets towards the ground. ERROR. Rapid acceleration in progress. Entering safety mode. The iHand spread all of its fingers out to maximize its air resistance and slow its descent. The brief noise of motors powering down follows as the hand itself goes limp and inactive. The iHand is prepared for impact, only to break its short fall by hitting the back of Derpy, the town’s misfortune plagued mailmare. This in turn sends her corkscrewing into one of the columns of Ponyville City Hall, destroying it on impact. “My bad!” the mailpony calls out. Restarting services. Services restarted. Terminal impact averted. Reason unknown. Running Diagnostic. Battery Charge………………………......................………..103% Motor Function………..................................................98.90% Temperature Sensors...............................................…99.45% Audio Command Input……………….....................….…98.50% Touch Sensors……………………………..................…..96.50% Diagnostics within threshold. Pinging base station. Base station acquired. Resuming return to base station. The iHand rights itself from the wreckage. Checking the distance from the base station, it calculates that all excess energy will be safely spent by the time it returns to Lyra’s side. Turning off its non-important sensors, the iHand begins the trek back to it’s base station. -------------------------- Back in Lyra and Bon Bon’s bedroom, the iHand shuffles up a strewn blanket and onto the bed itself. The unicorn’s horn glows in tune with the green gem attached to the back of the artificial hand as it closes the distance to the slumbering mare. A quick flip and the iHand slides back onto Lyra’s right forehoof, the pressure cuff inflating to secure it in place. Connected to Base Station. Excess charge vented. Autonomous mode disabled. Resuming passive mode. The crystal affixed to the iHand ceases its glowing and so does Lyra’s horn. Moments later an alarm annoyingly blares its deafening tones and wakes both Lyra and Bon Bon. A cream hoof comes slamming down onto the alarm, silencing its irritating din. Another cream hoof stops a hammer before it can smash the clock. Normally the hammer is magically levitated however, this morning, or more precisely late morning, it is instead held by a black hand attached to the front right hoof of her marefriend. “I see you found your ah… hand, Lyra.” Now wide awake, Lyra looks at her right hoof - well, hand. “I did…? I DID!” Reaching for Bon Bon’s mane, her ho... hand is stopped by the hoof of the other mare. “I’m sorry dear; we are not having a repeat of last night where you spent over two hours running your… fingers through my mane and tail. I don’t care how good it felt, it kept me awake for far too long.” “Not even once, Bonny?” Lyra gives her best puppy dog eyes, adding in a slight quiver of her lip. This always works. “No.” “Aww, you’re no fun.” “Correct. Now, let’s go get some breakfast. I have work and you have a concert with Octavia tonight.” Deflated from her lack of tactile interaction with the love of her life, Lyra follows Bon Bon out the door and down to the kitchen. Reconnected to base station. Accessing powered connection. Lyra’s horn glows very faintly as the gem on the iHand lights up in unison. Powered connection acquired. Parsing analysis of autonomous mode. Contacting satellite for data uplink…….. Uplink failed, satellite not found. Cross referencing thermal and sonic scans with internal database. 73% match for sonic signatures found. Signature matches Equus ferus caballus. Common name: horse. Thermal scan indicates 29% match for avian origins. Cross referencing internal database for combined match. Match found. Target identified as mythical creature Pegasus. Crypto-biological entity identified. Further study recommended on next autonomous mode.