Work for the band ended around three in the morning due to the fact that all eyes were on the showmares anyway. So, a deft switch took place where the band left to be replaced by recorded music. Onyx didn't mind leaving early, nor did he mind the bag of bits now hidden under his fedora. The disguised Changeling, even after three months, didn't know whether to feel joyous or depressd that his earnings could be hidden so readily.
"Hey Onyx!" somepony called as said faux-unicorn was halfway out the door. Turning back, Onyx saw Swing trot towards him. She now wore a coat that covered her scantily dressed body. Onyx couldn't help but think how clothes had become a requirement to ponies. He remembered his brief time in his Hive where no Changeling wore clothes. It wasn't as if the reproductive organs could easily be hidden and he doubted that anypony wanted to hassle with a garment that's pulled up over their hindlegs.
"Swing?" He asked as she caught up to him. They were the only ones in the dress room as the next shift of showmares had left to perform and the finished performers had left for home. A renewed vibrancy of a certain green tendril didn't escape his notice.
"You heading home?" she inquired as we started down the hallway again.
"After I head to Scavenger's Scraps."
"Why would you head there?" she asked, genuinely confused as to why Onyx may visit a store notorious for it's junk. While she asked this, she pulled ahead of Onyx to fit through the door first. Onyx blinked and when his eyes reopened, an extravagent display of color now surrounded and was emitted by the showmare. The Changeling knew that his eyes had lost their disguise but he had time before he was in view of anypony.
While he could, Onyx read the emotions as easily as an adult pony would read a children's book. The faint honey gold of confusion surrounded her, possibly at his choice of store. Purple regret hung close to her body, the reason of which Onyx couldn't deduce. Red anger spiralled into the air, the target of which only she-and perhaps the recepient-knew. The green tendril of love was still present, running to him. Though, now, Onyx could see fainter tendrils dissipating into the air.
He had examined her in a second. After that second, Onyx blinked and the light show was gone; his eyes disguised once more.
"I need a new alarm clock," he answered as he followed her out the door. Nodding to the new bouncer, he began down the alley with Swing beside him.
"What happened to the last one?"
"Broke it," I replied evenly, hoping my curt answers would get her to leave me be.
"How?"
By the hive, he mentally cursed, "Shoved my horn through it to make it shut up."
"Yo-"
"Yes, I know there's an off button."
A 'humph' came from beside him and he noticed that the mare had stopped walking. Onyx closed his eyes and silently prayed to both the Queen and the Sisters that she would turn around and head home. Sadly, none of them seemed to hear him as the showmare came up beside him again.
"What's gotten into you Onyx?"
"Nothing," he replied. He could feel that it wasn't nothing, though. Recently, a certain pink pegasus had been entering his thoughts more frequently. The flood of emotions that came with it confused him even more and, each time, he battled them back.
"I know this is an emotional time," began the voice of his mother, reciting-in his brain-the last words she had said to him. He remembered that trails had been cut through the dust on her face by the tears she shed, "but you must not let your emotions run rampant. Such things are burning beacons to the Plaguers. Be strong Onyx."
Plaguers. Bane of the Changeling Badlands. Wolf-like, they 'smelled' the air for strong, turbulent emotions. When they found a source of such emotions, they honed in on it. Their brown scales and lithe frames allowed the Plaguer's to readily hide in the surrounding terrain, allowing them to ambush unaware prey. Their first attack would be to fire a bio-net from their mutated tails, immobilizing their prey. They would then descend upon the trapped being and bite into their flesh. Changelings had an advantage here as their chitin first had to be pierced, allowing for a couple more seconds to escape. With their teeth inside the prey, they would vampyrcally drain the prey of all emotion, leaving a soulless husk in it's place. As if to add insult to injury, the Plaguers would then eat their prey like normal carnivores. This left only bones and chitin shells to litter the Badlands under degrading bio-nets.
Of course, all Onyx had to worry about here was the ponies around him. Some days he came to the conclusion that he'd rather try his hoof at taming a Plaguer than converse with ponies. At least then he'd know exactly what he was dealing with. Even with the ability to view emotions, ponies still managed to surprise and confuse him.
"Alright. I guess... I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Swing stated sadly before turning and walking away. While Onyx was glad for her departure, he felt a blade of regret tear through him from her tone. Even with the wound, Onyx didn't reply. Instead, he kept walking.
After about a minute, he ended up outside a store that still had it's lights on. Above the door, written with scrap metal and lit by a broad assortment of light fixtures, was the store's name: Scavenger's Scraps. Piled in the windows was a random assortment of items, an indication to the lack of organization that was bound to be inside the store itself. Walking inside, he got the welcome he expected. Sifting through his own pile of rubble-situated in the middle of the store-was Scavenger himself. The brown coat of the stallion hid the filth that Onyx knew was there. The white utility vest did not.
A bell had dinged when Onyx opened the door, causing the stallion to stop digging and look at him. Covering the pony's mouth and nose was what looked to be a red scarf, now covered in filth and frayed at the visible ends. Resting on the earth pony's forehead was a pair of goggles, one lens with a crack along the edge. His cutie mark was a rusted piece of metal with a bent bit next to it.
"Did ya break another one?" he asked bluntly, his voice muffled slightly by the scarf.
"Yeah," Onyx replied as the door swung closed behind him.
"Don't look like you brought the pieces back," he observed as he slid down the rubble to come stand in front of Onyx. The Changeling observed, as he always did, that his disguised self stood three-fourths a head taller than the brown pony.
"I kinda speared it on my horn this time... and then crushed it." The sound of a hoof meeting a face resounded in Onyx's ears. The disguised Changeling tilted his head as he looked at Scavenger in confusion.
"Ow," mumbled the stallion, his hoof muffling the words further. Slowly, Scavenger removed the hoof and set it back onto the ground, "Note to self. Facehoof equals pain."
"I don't think you were supposed to do it at full force," Onyx suggested. This put a thoughtful look on Scavenger's face.
"Maybe," he then shrugged as a clock suddenly came flying over his back. Used to this eccentric behaviour, Onyx saw the clock coming before Scavenger had kicked it up with his hindhoof. Catching it with his magic, Onyx moved it to hover beside him before also using his magic to take his bits from under his hat, count out five bits, and place sad bits into the brown pony's awaiting hoof.
"Thank's Scav," Onyx said with a smile as he replaced the bits and his hat.
"No problem. Just bring the pieces back next time."
"Sure thing," Onyx replied before turning to exit the store, "See ya Scav!"
"See ya tomorrow Onyx!"
Chuckling at the jab, Onyx began to walk down the street, setting his new alarm clock as he did. It took only a couple minutes to get to his apartment building with his newly set alarm clock. Going to the elevators, he pressed the up button and waited. About half a minute later, the elevator arrived and Onyx made way for the small family to get off. Hopping onto the elevator after their departure, he hit the button for his floor and watched the doors close. Onyx stared at the wall onto he arrived at his stop and stepped off the elevator.
Going down the hall, he passed nopony. Reaching his apartment, he pulled his key from his vest, unlocked, opened, and walked through the door, closing it after him. Removing his hat, Onyx floated the bit bag to the coffee table where he opened a secret compartment. Inside were numerous other bit bags and a sheathed blade.
Hanging up his hat and setting his key in the bowl by the door, Onyx floated the clock to his nightstand. A green flame traveled down his frame, seemingly burning away his faux skin but leaving his shirt and vest untouched. Now in his true form, Onyx sat down in the chair by the coffee table and pulled the blade, his first and last gift, out of the compartment. The sheath and straps were black, matching the color of Onyx's chitin. The handle was also black, blending into the sheath. Pulling the blade from the sheath, it was obvious that the black design didn't extend to the blade.
It was a vibrant green, matching the intensity of his left eye. Spectral red lines ran through the blade, giving the impression of veins within the green metal. This was done on purpose as red was the color of anger and seemed fitting to be in a blade. While Onyx knew many Changeling blades had these red lines, it only served to remind him of his differences.
Slamming the blade back into the sheath, he tossed it back into the compartment. Shutting and locking the compartment, Onyx stripped off his clothes. Hanging them up, he sulked into his bedroom and crawled under the covers. Turning off the lights with his magic, now green once more, Onyx allowed himself to slip into the welcomed bliss known as sleep.