//------------------------------// // Day 5 // Story: Heat Wave (The Naughty-Bits Kind) // by Scooter //------------------------------// Day 5 The two new residents of the Ponyville library had passed out shortly after getting to the library, both from exhaustion, both physical and emotional. Mac had tried to rouse them, but to no avail. Mac was not one for getting too emotional, but knowing that his cousin was out in a metaphorical minefield (the mines looking suspiciously like genitalia), he was getting increasingly more worried with every passing minute. Soarin and Thunderlane did not awake until daylight, at which, they were immediately set upon by Mac, demanding answers as to where his cousin had vanished to. The two were more than a bit afraid to talk to the hulking stallion, knowing that if they told him that they simply let the mares carry him off, they would probably never walk again. They both agreed to tell Mac a partial truth. “On our way here, everything was going fine until, uh...” “Attacked! By mares that were disguised as–“ “Lampposts! And we fought off as many as we could...” “But there were too many” “And your cousin sacrificed himself so we could get away.” “That is what happened,” They concluded, nodding their heads in unison. Mac at them both, knowing that he was being lied to, “Welp, let's go git 'em, then.” It was Doctor Hooves turn to spout pony pies, “Weeeell, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Macintosh. I think it is a crying shame that Braeburn got got by those mares, but if we go on some suicide mission to try and rescue him, sure, it would be noble, but futile. So, I think it is best if we keep on keeping on, maybe get out of Ponyville, get out of dodge. Head to Canterlot, maybe. They aren't in heat, are they?” This was something they had not previously considered, 'Is Ponyville the only place this is going on?' It was wholly possible that Canterlot, too was in heat. Perhaps all of Equestria. It would explain why Celestia was yet to descend upon a golden chariot to whisk the stallions out of harm's way. Mac would have none of it, either way. “Nah hold yer us, we ain't hangin' mah cousin out ta dry like that. He is mah kin and ah'll have none a' it! Ah'll go by mahself if ah gotta.” Hooves quickly went to Mac's side, “Macintosh, I know you are full of emotions and I can understand that, but you must think rationally! What will them capturing you accomplish, huh?” Mac scowled, He trotted down the stairs and Hooves followed, “Ahm goin' ta get mah cousin.” “HOOF CHOP!” “Wha–“ Mac's vision went black as he was struck unconscious by a well placed hoof chop to the back of the neck. Hooves did not want to get into the thick of it, he wanted neither for Mac, as well. Back across the way, in a cage, Braeburn pined for his home. Ah never shoulda came out here, tha's fer sure, He thought, none-a this kinda craziness happened out in AAAAAAAAAAPPALOOSA! In the distance, Braeburn heard the sounds of cheering. The mares were cheering on whoever they wanted to win the hoof fight between Applejack and Colgate. There were cheers and cried of dismay at lost bits and the 'ooh's that followed a particularly painful looking hit. Every mare in the area was at the fight, except for one mare who sat leaning against the disused podium, singing a song that sounded vaguely familiar to Braeburn “Sometimes IIIIiiIIII fantasiiiiiize, when there's only mares around me and there is no dude to mount me–,” her song was cut off short as a rock landed on her head, knocking her out cold. At the abrupt end to the song, Braeburn looked up, seeing a hooded figure on a rooftop. The figure quickly descended a drainpipe, landing next to Braeburn's prison. As Braeburn's guard went unconscious, Macintosh Apple had just regained his consciousness. He woke tied to the sofa, thick ropes wrapping around the sofa to keep him pinned. The stallions were afraid that he would be able to break through them easily, but they held. “Nah, y'all let me outta here! I gotta go find Braeburn!” Turning from the small huddle the stallions and dragon were in, Hooves turned to look at Mac, he sighed, “Macintosh, it has already been established, Braeburn is gone, we are moving on. We are discussing who else may be in town, of the male persuasion. If you would like to join us, you may.” Mac harrumphed at Hooves, turning his head away to look at nothing in particular. “Very well, we shall discuss this without you. Where were we, so, who do we know is in town?” Thunderlane looked at a piece of paper in his hooves, spitting a quill out of his mouth, “There's Mac, Braeburn (who is gone, which is sad), Hooves, Thunderlane (me!), Soarin, Spike (he doesn't count, though), Noteworthy, Cranky Doodle Donkey, Mr. Cake (never mind, he is out of town), Filthy Rich, Davenport, Hugh Jelly, Snowflake and Caramel" “Caramel?” Braeburn asked, shocked to see him. Caramel smiled at him, “Yeah, it's me! I saw you get brought into town, I had to save you.” Braeburn smiled back at him, “Golly, a right kindly thing-a ya to do for somepony ya only've known for a few days!” Caramel took the key from the mare, unlocking Braeburn's cage. He suddenly brought Braeburn into a hug, “It's the least I can do for the stallion I love,” he said. Braeburn's eyes went wide, “Sorry, wut?” Before he could react, Caramel kissed him full on the lips, not in a 'hey-brony-howya-doing-good-to-see-you-oh-you-got-something-on-your-lips kind of kiss, but a romantic, passionate kiss. Braeburn fell to his haunches and mumbled something to himself. Caramel's ears twitched, “What was that, love?” Braeburn wore a far away look in his eyes, “Tha's gay caramel” Before the conversation had a chance to continue, the far away cheering began to get louder, not from more action, but because the crowd was moving. The fight must have ended and that meant one pony was coming back to start a sexscapade that would last until either all the mares in the area were satisfied or Braeburn died. Needless to say, they quickly got out of there, Caramel leading Braeburn into a small house. Caramel turned to a door and opened it, inside were coats and hats and other pony clothing that would not be worn anyway. He pushed them out of the way and rapped his hoof on the back of the closet. He waited a moment, then Braeburn saw a small slot slide open, revealing a pair of eyes, “Can you come in here?” Caramel looked around behind him to ensure that there was nobody eavesdropping of the female variety. “I've got a wiener, let me in there,” he said, enunciating everything, making it sound obviously like some passphrase to allow him entrance. There was the sound of a lock clicking open and the back of the closet became a door, creaking open. They both trotted up the hidden staircase, entering a room with a large wooden table in the center, on it was a map of Ponyville. Surrounding the table were three stallions and one donkey. Caramel cleared his throat and gestured to each of the ponies (and donkeys) as he introduced them, “This is Cranky, Noteworthy, Davenport and Filthy Rich.” Braeburn walked over to Noteworthy, shaking his hoof, “Good ta see ya didn't get got, thoughtya mighta when ah saw some mare grabbin' up on yer tail.” Note worthy shuttered at the memory, “No, no I made it out of there, alright. Wasn't easy, but I did” “Well, ahm glad ta see that ya did,” Braeburn turned to look at the other stallions, the one with the collar and tie on looking quite familiar, “Don't ah know you? Y'all buy zap apples from mah kin, dontcha?” Filthy Rich smiled at him, “Indeed I do, my good man, my little Diamond Tiara just loves them ever so much,” he said, smiling when he thought of his daughter. That made Braeburn think, he hadn't seen one colt or filly since the heat began, where had they all gone off to? “uh, Mister Filthy, where is yer daughter?” Filthy Rich thought for a moment, unsure, “Well, all the young ones were in school, so I would think that the school mare would have led them somewhere before taking off after the first stallion she saw, my best bet would be the town panic shelter. The mares have no interest in little ones, thank Celestia.” Braeburn's eyebrows rose, “There is a panic shelter?” “Of course, the town had it built after the first four times the town was destroyed,” he said, as if it should be obvious. “Well, ah s'ppose that makes sense, where is it?” “Under town hall, of course. The mares are probably guarding it, don't want little colts and fillies running around in this den of vice and misery, I would hope.” With that, Braeburn lost interest. He looked to the map, seeing it had been drawn on to show how the town was now divided into. The area under the control of Rainbow Dash having been shaded black. “Why's this here part all black like?” He asked, curiously. Davenport, a light brown stallion with a slicked back chestnut mane stepped up to the map. Slamming his hoof down on the black area. “That is a dead zone. Off limits. We stay out of there no matter what. We already lost a stallion in there going after another, we have not scouted out the area, we don't know what could be going on in there. You've seen the walls they've built, those bitches are high. The walls. Are quite high.” In truth, Braeburn had not thought about it too much, but the walls of the 'Rainboom-Dome' had been built up rather high. He certainly had not seen into the area when taken by Applejack. From what he had heard from Davenport, it was not an area he wanted to visit any time soon. “So, what's the plan, then? How ya wanna get outta here?” The other stallions looked at each other, Cranky decided to speak up, “We aren't getting out of here, kid. We are staying put until this all blows over. There is no way to get out of here!” Somewhere inside the Rainboom-Dome, Pinkie pulled a piano out of Hammerspace and played a dramatic sting. In 'The Library', there had been an all out search through the area, turning up nothing stallion-wise, but a mare with a face full of apple pie had plenty to tell of two pegasi who she had seen crossing over from Discord's Alley. Since then, Twilight had been in her study, analyzing maps of Discord's Alley and reading back to herself a transcript of a description of the two stallions from the pied mare. If I only had access to the town records, She thought, I could know who in town matches that description, but those total plot-points of Rainbow's would never let me have them. And could what Rarity said be true? Could they be in the library? Spike would never do that to me, but I can't know for sure. Twilight decided that she had to know, she left her headquarters, a first for her in the last few days. She trotted to the library, preparing for what would happen. She knocked on the door, knowing it would be locked. She waited, soon she heard the sound of approaching feet-things. “Who is it?” Spike called. “Spike, it's Twilight, can you open the door, please?” “No way, Twi. You're in heat, I don't want you anywhere near my biz.” Oh Celestia, She thought, he knows that much about heat? “Spike, are you alone in there?” Spike looked back to the stallions in the library with him, them stopping their game of Uno to nervously watch Spike. They all shook their heads 'no', “Of course, Twilight, you said not to let anypony in here!” “Do you promise, Spike?” “Of course!” I don't want to have to do this to you, Spike. You have given me no choice, “Do you... Pinkie Promise?” Spike froze, he knew what would happen if he broke the Pinkie Promise. He looked back to the stallions in distress. They shrugged, not knowing what to do. “Did you say.... Parchment Promise?” “No, Spike. I said Pinkie Promise” “Pancreas Promise? “Pinkie Promise!” “Patriot Promise?” “PINKIE PROMISE,” she yelled into the door. “PIN-code promise? Stay out of my bank account!” “I. Said. PINKIE.” “Pillion?” “GHA. Fine, whatever. Eat some Lapis, it is good for hearing,” She said, before trotting away in a huff. Spike sighed in relief, falling back onto his rump. The stallions all relaxed, Thunderlane playing a red 6. They all laughed together, celebrating their avoidance of the possible uncovering. With Celestia's help, they could hopefully stay there for another 15 days without having to deal with a siege. The only issue that was arising was a steadily increasing deficiency of food on the premises. Mac was still tied to the sofa, finally beginning to feel weary of staying on the coach all day, “hey fellas, how about ya set me loose, ey?” Thunderlane and Soarin looked between themselves while Hooves trotted over to him, eying him suspiciously, “And you have given up on your plan of going out there?” Mac nodded as best he could. Hooves suddenly had a bright smile on his face, “wonderful! Then join us in our game, I am destroying these chumps,” He said, laughing as he untied Macintosh. Mac rolled off the sofa. He stood up and stretched, his joints cracking and popping. “The only chump 'round here is you. HOOF CHOP,” He yelled, chopping Hooves in the forehead. Instead of knocking him unconscious with the chop, it sent his head rocketing into the floor, cracking the floorboard he hit, but he was unconscious, so mission accomplished, I suppose. The two un-assaulted stallions stared wide-eyed and drop-jawed at what they just witnessed. Spike shook his head, “Is it just me or is somebody always unconscious around here?”