//------------------------------// // The News // Story: Nocturnal // by Flame-LoneWolf //------------------------------// Chapter One: The News          You rub the crust from your eyes that formed from your dreamless slumber. Pushing the blinds aside with a hoof, you peer out the window and take in the hustle and bustle of the Manehattan streets, your vision beginning to adjust to the rays of light bouncing off Luna’s moon. You watch ponies of all kinds trotting- or galloping in some cases -past your second story apartment: The neighborhood punks who -more than likely- snuck out while their parents slept to cause some mayhem and “fun” that only they benefited from (until they get caught in a few days, that is....); nicely dressed stallions- and a few mares -franticly galloping to their night shifts, a suitcase clenched between their teeth; ponies who looked forward to a midnight stroll to help ease the stress of their everyday lives. So on and so forth. It was true; even through the night, the city never sleeps. And you were the prime example. Your horn lit up with a magic aura; a pair of slender, rectangular glasses coated in your aura gently levitate off your nightstand, delicately landing on the bridge of your broad snout. You didn’t see why you needed these dorky things at first, but after a while, you couldn’t help but become grateful throughout the years for your now enhanced vision. And besides, you’ve seen pairs a lot dorkier. Your room only consisted of a double mattress absent of a bed frame, a bookshelf, a closet full of clothes you’ve probably never worn, and a small weight set that you haven’t touched in months. There were other various possessions, but you simply packed them away in cardboard boxes so you didn’t have to look at them. Your room was an absolute mess; sheets and pillows sprawled on the floor for anypony to step on if they didn’t watch their hooves at all times. You honestly didn’t care. You had nopony you felt the need to impress. With a beastly yawn, you maneuver drowsily through your room and drag yourself to the kitchen. Wasn’t much of a selection in the fridge, but you were used to it by now. Your family wasn’t at all rich. Settling on cooking up some strips of hay bacon and two slices of toast, your eyes glance at the wall clock, reading 1:26 A.M. For you, this was about normal breakfast time. Maybe an hour or two off, but breakfast is breakfast. Though your real pick-me-up would kick in once the coffee maker had finally heated the beans and water into a nice, caffeinated brew. You sit at the unimpressive plastic table with your plate of food, half awake as you mindlessly chew. You absentmindedly levitate a book off the neatly organized living room shelf. Once you pay it mind, you see it’s a book mom was reading only a week or so ago; ‘Fifty Spades of Hay’.... She never mentioned to you if she liked it or not, so you assumed it was bad. But whatever, might as well give it a shot. You have nothing else better to do while you eat, and you need to wake up somehow. And besides, how bad could a best selling book possibly be.... …. It was bad. Barely even managing to get past the first two chapters, you hear a rummaging at the door before it flies open. Mom, a cream coated mare with a short-cut, light blonde mane made her way in with a bundle of groceries looped over her wings. While you were born a unicorn, mom was a pegasus. This limited many activities between the two of you as a foal. You honestly wondered if the two of you were even related sometimes; the two of you looked nothing alike, aside for your mint-green eyes. The two of you had nothing in common in terms of personality as well. Mom had always told you that you got all of these traits from your father, which would always lead to you viciously denying any accusations of the case, to the point where the subject was now rarely brought up. You couldn’t even remember what the bastard looked like, he left you when you were only a foal. Mom had pictures, sure. Didn’t mean you were ever going to look at them. Noticing that you had spaced out, mom stood at the door with a single brow raised. “So, you’re just going to let your old mom carry these heavy groceries in herself? I thought I raised you better than that....” Quickly stuffing your mouth with the remaining food on your plate, you hurry over and take the not-heavy-at-all bags in your magic, ignoring a snippy comment from mom about always relying on your unicorn perks all the time and not enough on your muscles. But then again, this was nothing new. “You’re home late.” Mom gives an audible huff before turning her gaze back to her newspaper. You guessed she didn’t have time this morning to read it. “Is that any way to greet your mother?” You simply roll your eyes. It’s not like her greeting was any better. “And please tell me you didn’t just get up since I left again....” You’re reluctant to answer, getting annoyed that she’s always on your case about this.... “At least I even went to sleep this time. Sleep is sleep, isn’t it?” Mom simply shook her head, her eyes still locked on today’s news. She can barely keep them open, that much was obvious. “Not when you’re living under your mother’s roof at twenty-five years old.” “I’ve been trying to find a steady job since I turned sixteen, give me a break....” “And you lost your last one for pelting a bunch of teenagers with the apples you were supposed to be selling.” “Those little brats were trying to make off with an entire bushel.” you state in a low groan. Though now that the event was passing through your memories as if were only yesterday, you couldn’t help but wish you had handled that a little.... better. “And besides, I can’t help getting turned down before I’m even hired.” Mom shakes her head once more and turns her attention back to the newspaper, leaving you to contemplate what you should do next. You had just gotten up and really didn’t want to hear it from mom again, so going back to sleep was out of the question. You don’t exactly feel like reading another book at the moment after that last one. Maybe a walk through the midnight streets would help clear your mind, as dangerous as that sounded.... You rest your head over a forehoof with a sigh, your eyes threatening to give way to the drowsiness. You found yourself doing this a lot nowadays as you didn’t have much of a selection of entertainment as you once had, leaving your life to grow into a dull, empty shell. But at this point, you couldn’t care less.... “Hmm.... maybe one of the ponies there will be nice enough to give you a job.” Your ears perk, your mom’s words cutting through your thoughts like butter. Now you were interested.... “Wait, what are you-” “I found a place for the two of us in the country. It’s a small town that I grew up in as a filly.” “WHAT?” you exclaim as you shoot up from your seat, sleepiness completely forgotten as your attention focused only on the woman suggesting nonsense. “Mom, as stingy with money as you are, how can you even think of moving out of Manehattan?”         “The ponies there are friendly, the prices are affordable, and it’d be a fresh new start....” mom begins to explain, all the while the negative thoughts swirl around your brain, effectively drowning her out. There’s no way in hell you’re going to accept this as being a good idea....         “Please,” you let slip through your mom’s rambling, slowly bringing her words to a stop. “There is no way that this could be a good idea. Just.... at least consider staying? Who knows; maybe you’ll get a raise at work and really turn things around for us.”         Seconds pass, mom’s always judging glance staring daggers into you, more than likely going over your pleas for an appropriate response. You were screwed; you knew your mom better than anypony, and there was no way in the deepest, darkest pits of Tartarus she was going to take your word for-         “I’ll think it over.”         …..What?         As much of a complete and utter shock this comes as to you, you can feel a weight releasing itself from your haunches, making you feel as if you were forty-five pounds lighter. Needless to say, you still feel that remaining five pounds playing as the possibility that this might very well not go the way you hope....         Before you can even get a word in, mom had already folded her newspaper in the recycling bin and was trotting off to her room to call it a night. Or would it be day in this case....         You sit at the empty table alone, still contemplating your next move as if it were going your last. You have the night all to yourself, and it’d be a shame to waste it-         “And take out the trash, would ya?! I’m already sleeping!”         Your eyes roll almost as if on cue. You ponder to yourself on how mom could scream from the other side of the apartment like that if she were asleep, but decide to let it slide. It’s not like you were just going to skip chores until mom noticed or anything.... right?         You shake away the thought, grabbing the bag of filth in your magic as you trot out the door, making sure you ease it closed so as to not wake up mom again....         The plastic bag that held all the disposed junk was cluttered to the brim; bits were scarce these days and your mother, being cheap as she is, made up an imaginary rule to not throw away the bags of garbage until there was no longer room to stuff it with.         This was definitely the case as of now, seeing that even your aura-lit grip couldn’t keep the rips and tears from already forming over the damn thing, and Celestia knows this wouldn’t be the first time you’d need a seven hour scrub-down after taking out the trash....         For what felt like an eternity, you finally make it down the flight of stairs outside the apartment building second floor, thanking your lucky stars as you dispose of the stuffed-to-death garbage without a single trace of it on your coat this time. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you contemplate whether you should go back inside and do nothing, or go for a nightly stroll in the not-so-safe streets of Manehattan.         Surprisingly, your choices aren’t all that hard to weight out. Without looking back, you trot off into the dark streets of Manehattan, expectant, yet curious as to what you may find this time around.... ….         The humid city streets are enough by themselves to make you regret your decision. You weren’t exactly much of a Spring pony. That’s not to say you didn’t see some rather interesting sights:   Those little urchins you saw earlier from your window were busy spray painting homes, establishments, street fences, etc., creating either lewd images with the best of their “artistic” abilities or just plain writing verbal abuse using the most profane words they could think of. Good thing you’d be already asleep in the morning so not to hear the victims’ reactions. You also passed a local pub just in the nick of time to catch a bar fight courtesy of two drunken meatheads you may or may not have known once. You didn’t exactly have the best memory, and for good reason too. You didn’t want to remember. And of course, you couldn’t have a city filled with “warm and cozy” homes without the homeless. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you watched them dig for scraps in any garbage they managed to get their hooves on, but you knew all too well that even the slightest amount of generosity around these parts could result in you and mom ending up in the very same fate.... But all in all, nothing was out of the usual. Just your everyday scenarios in your nice and friendly neighborhood streets. From what mom had told you, where you live now is basically the slums of Manehattan. Wasn’t exactly the most ideal of settlements, and you were a tad ashamed to say that you grew up here, but you couldn’t exactly imagine having to readjust to a secluded hicktown. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a commotion breaking out in an alleyway nearby. As the law-abiding citizen you are, you dutifully wince as you trot past, hoping whoever’s back there won’t notice you as you pass under one of the unnaturally bright magical lanterns that wasn’t burnt out or busted. Unfortunately, your hopes were ignored as the sound of hooves rapidly catch up to you, and a knife is brought in front of your face. “Eeeeyyyyyy, buddy,” the earth pony holding the knife between his teeth hisses as he breathes down your neck. “Thash a purty good lookin tail yuh got. Min’f I... heh heh... movit ‘round a bit?” The stallion chuckles again, the sound raspy like a dog’s squeak toy after too much abuse. His stench is overpowering your nose, making you feel like you need to hurl. Not that his offer is helping matters any. You try to voice a response in the negative, but the knife’s edge digs into the skin below your neck, killing the words where they stand as a shiver runs down your spine. “Heh heh heh heh... Thash a guud colt, ayn’tet, four eysh? Yeeeaahhhssshhhhheeheeheehee...” As the stallion starts backing up, you follow along, carefully, trying not to make any sudden movements lest the knife draws blood. “Oi, Nose Tag! Yuh gots sum new meat?” The stallion holding onto you leans his head-- and the knife-- away from you as he spits out a reply. “Yeah! An’ he looksh purty well fed, heh heh heh!” As the stallion continues to gab with his friend, you look around quickly, noticing a small pile of bricks laying among the shards of a broken window. Reaching out with your magic, you almost pick up the glass, but you hesitate and grab a brick instead, pulling it towards you as fast as your magic can. With a solid Thwock! right out of an action comic, it hits the stallion holding you right in the face, and most likely, right in the knife judging by the howls of pain that start as soon as you break free. “Graaaahhhh! Mah mouf! Mah moouuuff!! ‘E cut mah fuggen moouuf!!!” Snorting as you gallop down the street, you jump across the empty cart and carriage lanes, down a side street, and then through some abandoned lots until you are well and truly alone. You can’t hear the cries any longer. In fact, the only sound is your own ragged breathing. With a soft lament of needing to exercise more, you shake your head and sit down. That hadn’t been your first time put through the ringer like that. You couldn’t live in Manehatten for more than twenty years and not get mugged at least once (though this was probably the first you would have been almost raped during). By now, you probably knew where every loose brick, narrow alley, or broken fence in a four mile area was. All the better to escape, of course. So saying, it would be easy to find a way home that didn’t go the same way you came, and after a night like this, you think it’d be wise to call it a day. Making sure you weren’t being followed, you decide to go down the least taken way to get to the apartment complex. It would probably take a good extra twenty minutes, but it’d probably be worth it in the long run. You can’t exactly say you’re keen on the idea of warming up to the thought of being some mugger’s next stress reliever.... ….         By now, Princess Luna’s pitch black skies were beginning to brighten just slightly; not enough to spot the sun, but more than enough to see what was ahead of you. At this point you believe the apartments are only a couple minutes away, as you mentally go over the night’s events. Was it worthwhile....         “Fuck no.” you mumble to yourself aloud. However, you can at least say that tonight’s events weren’t quite on the scale of dull as usual.         Your body jerks to a halt, as your nostrils are invaded by the unmistakable scent of smoke. Wait, what?! Your stomach feels as though somepony dropped an anvil overtop of it, as you make a break down the city streets, cares of anypony seeing you left behind in the dust. You are greeted with the sight of a team of pegasai in red fire-patrol barding stomping on their rain clouds as they douse out the last of the flames coming from a too-familiar second story window, one you knew all too well to be the kitchen. Your kitchen. Once you spot her, you gallop over to mom, who’s standing near who is probably the captain of the group. Once mom finally breaks her gaze from the mare and catches you in her sights, to your surprise, she wraps her hooves around you and pulls you tight. You can’t even remember the last time you’d been given a hug. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” mom whispered as she held tighter. “When I couldn’t find you anywhere I thought...” “....What happened?” you finally manage to spit out. “From the looks of it, it appears to be a kitchen fire. Thankfully, only the kitchen took any damage from the flames.” the captain responds in a gruff yet feminine voice. Her gaze lifts up from her notes as she notices a group of pegasai under her command exit the apartment building. “It also appears that we found our culprit.” The weather ponies near over to their captain, and you notice one of them was carrying something from the building in their hooves. As the pony hoofed it over, you took a good, long look at the magic powered coffee maker.... It was as though you could feel your mom’s eyes locked onto you, debating whether or not they should take you by the neck and shake you until your heart stopped beating. Yeah, any hopes you had left were scorched to death in that kitchen. ….         Princess Celestia’s Sun shined brightly through the window of your room, as if to spread light over the now many full boxes that littered the apartment. You can feel the bags under your mint green eyes aching behind your thin, rectangular lenses, desperately begging to be shut. As you pack the last of your things, a rectangular brown box littered with the word “FRAGILE” over the top and side with black permanent marker gets caught in your line of sight. You slide a hoof over the cardboard surface and, with a hint of poison in your sigh, you coat the box with your magic and put it near with the rest of your packed-up things. You snap back to reality when you hear mom calling from the living room to pick up the pace. With yet another sigh, you adjust your glasses wearily with a hoof and get a move on. The Fetlock Express closed wagon was almost completely packed, only your stuff was needed before it could start on its way. This was going to suck....