//------------------------------// // PA Chapter 1: "The Flop" // Story: Ponies Anonymous // by DontAskForCookie //------------------------------// Ponies Anonymous Chapter One: "The Flop" A side fic by DontAskForCookie for Display on FimFiction Based on the excellent fic "Five Score, Divided by Four" written by: TwistedSpectrum Editing graciously provided by the wonderful TheGingaNija ~ Once upon a time, within the not so enchanted city limits of Atlanta Ga. ~ “Hooves hurt.” My mind reeled as I tumbled through space, not from the teeth rattling kick I had just received but from the bluntness and stupidity of that first thought. Here I was spiraling into open air, my mind being so kind as to flood itself with adrenaline to create that all too surreal feeling of time slowing just to give me a chance to think, and that was all I could come up with? I strained myself to do better, to have a more profound though than that. Just focus Liam, just focus with all your mind and... “Hooves hurt… a lot.” Had I any air in my lungs left after the buck to my chest I would definitely dedicate it to a deep moan of aggravation at this point no matter how painful it would be with the tenderness of my chest. Still, I suppose I should just be glad that I’m still conscious. Of course that probably wouldn't last too much longer when I hit the ground, after that I will be pretty much done for. Even if I walked away from this without a brand new ninety degree angle in my spine I’m still pretty sure that most people don’t get up very quickly from an arching eleven foot face dive. “I wonder where the gun is,” Wait, was that thought mine? A thought so practical and utterly pertinent to the situation actually came from the same mind that could produce no better than “Hooves hurt” just a few moments ago? Thinking feels slow and laborious, like trying to walk through waist deep mud, but I know it’s important, I need to focus if I’m going to get out of this and save anyone, hell it was going to be tricky enough to just get myself out of this situation as it was. The gun you dummy! Where was the gun? Think Liam, Think! My mind begins to try and reassemble the order of events that led up to this moment, searching for answers. Memories begin to arrange themselves in reverse order, painfully slow at first but as my mind builds up steam they begin to flood in faster and faster. The sickening thud of hooves crashing into my chest, the taste of blood and vodka, the gun being flashed at me in the alleyway, my birthday party, finding out my sister was com-... wait, the gun! Stressing itself to near failure my mind applies the brakes, skidding to a full and complete stop. “Ok Brain”, I tell myself as I started reversing the film it stitched together for me. “This time slower, my life may depend on it”. Obediently my mind goes full flashback mode, the events of the past few days playing out again for me, laying out exactly how it had all come to this moment. ~ A Few Days Earlier ~ Thud! “Oh come on! How in the hell can you possibly have a flush?” I groaned into the table. As I stared down at the grain of the table I could hear what remained of my poker chips being slid into the waiting pile across from me, the same large pile that belonged to the chuckling goon who had just pulled of one of the best bluffs I have ever seen in my (admittedly short) poker career. “Not my fault I'm awesome at this game Liam. It’s just a natural gift I suppose”, retorted the jerk between gleeful fits of laughter. Glancing up from the table and past the large pile multicolored plastic chips and empty glass bottles I could see that he was really enjoying this. Groaning I lift my head up from the table, flipping my own hand to reveal three of a kind. Moments ago I had held so much hope for the three matching Derpy faces; they're adorable little goofy faces enticing me to bet my few remaining chips. Sighing I tossed them back to the center of the table with the rest of the pony deck I had unwrapped just a few hours ago when the party had been in full swing. The deck had been just one of my birthday gifts from this evening, one given to me along with the poker chips by Ronald Parker who was probably the best friend I had made since moving to Atlanta. Pushing my chair back from the table I offer the smug son of a gun a grin as I raise a bottle to his success. “Fine Ronnie, fine, you win you cheating rat. One of these days I’m going to remember to not play poker with you”. Ronald (who went by Ronnie) stretches as he stands and runs a hand through his unkempt copper hair, pushing the mess back out of his face. “Ha! I'll believe that when I see it. With a gift as awesome as the one I picked out you’re going to want to show it off whenever you can. As a matter of fact I think that this little investment may just pay off for me in the long run… if you would ever man up and bet actual money.” “Ha!” I bellow, as if I would actually be so dumb to play Ronnie for actual cash again. The man was a machine when it came to the game; a brick wall was easier to read than Ronnie’s poker face. “I learned that lesson a long time ago, so tonight me, and my bank account, are happy to announce that tonight you have won rights to the last slice of cake”. “Hot Damn!” Chuckled the Glutton as he stood up from the table and moved to the kitchen. Shaking my head I can't help but join in his laughter as I follow him the short distance to the apartment’s kitchen. Ronnie was just that sort of guy, his moods were infectious and if he was of a mind to have a good time, odds were you were going to find yourself with a grin before too long. Pushing his glasses up the brim of his nose his grin widens as he slides the last slice of cake onto a cheap paper party plate, “Corner slice, very nice!” “What, why does he get the last slice?” Comes a deep voice from the living room. The sound of zombies pounding at windows ceased as my roommate Josh paused his game and made his way to the kitchen to join us, posing in the entranceway. “I'm the one who should get it; I'm the one who picked it up”. “One”, began Ronnie as he raised a thick finger, “I won this fair and square thank you very much. If you had wanted it so bad you could have stayed in the poker game instead of leaving when the others started to head out. And second you're leaving to go home for a visit tomorrow; the last thing you need to do is eat too much tonight and sleep in.” “Look who’s talking about not needing cake”, I chuckle as I give Ronnie a joking poke in the side, barely stifling a laugh as he casually shot a bird my way as he dug into his victory cake, lifting a plastic fork full of its red velvety goodness to his lips.   The guy wasn't really fat or anything, but he wasn't exactly going to win any marathons either. In contrast Josh was pretty well built, going on daily runs and the like to balance out hours of playing first person shooters on his PlayStation 4. As for me? Well the term “stick-like” comes to mind when trying to think of a good way to describe myself. Unlike Greg I spent far too much time on my art to dedicate much of my time to physical training, and unlike Ronnie I just plain didn't have the budget as a freelance artist to really pack on the pounds. As a matter of fact If it wasn't for my part time job as a busboy at a nearby restaurant, I very much doubt I would be eating much of anything. Josh rolls his eyes, moving to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. “Yeah, like I would stick around and keep getting whooped by you. It was fun with more people but you’re too good at it for me to have any fun with just the three of us. Honestly, I think this one is just a glutton for punishment for staying at the table as long as he did.” He says while jerking his thumb in my direction. “Glutton for punishment?” I ask. “Oh yes that’s me, a regular sadomasochist alright, you caught me Josh. I have a whole closet full of leather, chain, and spikes that I wheel out whenever you’re not here. How did you know? Did I leave one of my victims tied up on the sofa again?” My tone positively oozes with sarcasm; elating a new round of chuckles from Ronnie who was already down to his last few bites of the cake. “Nah, if that were the case there would be more signs, like say…. bruising, scars, oh and probably mysterious tattoos”. At his final suggestion, Ronnie fixes me with a knowing look and gives me a wink. Paling a bit I look to Josh but thankfully he hasn't seemed to have taken notice of Ronnie’s meaning. Cutting my eyes back to Ronnie I try and figure out if he actually knew about the bright and colorful symbol on my ass. A glance down to my thigh and then back up to my face by Ronnie followed up with some eyebrow waggles was enough to convince me that he knew that I had something there now.     I mentally face palmed, I had meant to keep that covered up for a while longer. Yes I was a fan of MLP:FiM, but not as big a fan as Ronnie (who was possibly one of the broniest bronies to ever trot a convention floor), but still this was something that most people would consider over the top even back when the show was still going. How many adult men had cutie marks? To make matters worse Ronnie was pretty much one of the few friends in Atlanta that knew as much, or cared for Ponies as much as me. If he somehow got a peek at it earlier tonight during the party then he knew exactly what it was for sure. At least he seemed to be content to just watch me twist in the wind for now and not do much more with the information. As juicy as this was, I'm sure it’s killing him to not be talking about it.   “Tattoo my ass”, grunts Josh as he takes the final swig from his bottle of water. “Like Liam would actually go through with something like that”. Sharing a look with me over Josh’s choice of wording, Ronnie suddenly burst out laughing. Yeah, this was killing him, really eating him up inside. Josh just blinked as he tried to put together what he had said to set Ronnie off. ~ ~ ~ Seeing the light appear over the elevator doors I turn to Ronnie, giving him a punch on the shoulder. “Alright, drive safe Ronnie. I'll give you a call tomorrow man. Oh, and thanks for the deck again, I'll have to let you come over and beat me again sometime”.   Ronnie returns the punch in kind and grins. “Nah, we’ll play at my place next time. I haven't gotten nearly enough play out of my poker table yet. Anyway, sounds great, I'll talk to you tomorrow man, we can make plans to live it up while Josh is out of town”. The elevator dings just as I was about to respond to Ronnie, a voice calling out from inside cutting me off. “Heeeeeey~ whas…. what, how are you guys?” Without having to look I instantly know who it is, trouble on two legs. Looking inside I see her, one of my downstairs neighbors, currently slumped against one of the metallic walls of the elevator. Ronnie Steps onto the other side of the elevator from her, nodding his head. “Ummm, fine thanks. Going down by any chance?” “Down?” She asks drunkenly, her eyes blinking unevenly. Lord she looks so wasted, but then that wasn't too uncommon for her. Usually she managed to get to her room before making too much racket or a mess but then other times she just liked to roam around the halls. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why Mr. Shipley (the superintendent) didn't get more complaints about her bothering people. The only reason I could think of was pity, besides just getting sloshed on a regular basis, she had more than enough bruises to paint a picture of how her home life was with her punk boyfriend Marcus Koontz. Sighing I look to Ronnie instead of her, not wanting to deal with her at the moment. “Yes Ronnie, Ms. Barry will be going down. She lives one floor down on the fourth. You're going back to your apartment, right Janet?” Silently I pray she picks up the hint without me having to take matters into my own hands. I had learned my lesson before about how clingy she could get when she was like this. When I had  first moved here a year and a half ago I had made the mistake of helping her to her room whenever she got like this, only to win the ire of Marcus who didn't seem to like the idea of anyone taking an interest in his girlfriend. After a particularly terrifying confrontation in the hall one night I had agreed to keep away. This however, was easier said than done as Janet had sort of bonded to me like a puppy that follows you around. A drunken puppy who likes to fall asleep outside your door once every few months. “No, I’m… I’mmm..Hmmmm… what was I? I’m looking for someone. Liam? Could you help me look? I…. I just need to find… who was it?” She mumbles while trying to stabilize herself, clearly about to try and step out of the elevator. Deciding to nip this in the butt before I wound up getting involved in a drunken game of hide and seek, I nod to Ronnie. “Fourth floor Ronnie; Make sure she gets off ok? Oh and that she takes a left, that’s the direction of her room. Ok?” I felt bad for her, but she was doing this to herself and as much as I would love to help her out I really didn't want to piss of her drug dealing boyfriend either. Ronnie nods and presses the down button quickly, waving to me as the elevator dings. “Happy birthday again, thanks for having me over!” The last thing I see is Janet blinking in confusion as the doors start to slide shut. Her glazed over eyes move between me and Ronnie, “It’s... Your birthday?” Anything she said after that was cut off by the thud of the doors and the hum of the Elevator carrying my friend and neighbor down. I felt a twinge of guilt for not helping her, but what was I supposed to do exactly? People had called the cops on Marcus before, but she always denied what was going on. So really this was all on her, but still it hurt to just stand by and watch it go on. The really bizarre thing to me is why she would even want to stay with the guy. She was young (around my age I would guess) and attractive, she could pick up a better guy than that easily. Scratching my thigh I sigh to myself as I turn around and head back down the hall towards my apartment. ~ ~ ~ Stepping out of the shower I wrap a towel around myself, making sure that it completely covers the mark on my thigh before moving to my room. Josh had already gone to sleep but I still wasn't keen on risking him seeing the thing. As good of a roommate as Josh was, I knew that he would never let me live this down after seeing it. Thankfully though, Josh was nowhere to be seen and I managed to easily make it from the shared bathroom to my room unseen. Sighing I lock the door behind me and move to my mirror. Quickly unwrapping the towel I begin to dry of my short sandy blonde hair, giving it a towel dried fluff. Moving down I make sure that I’m fully dried off before pulling out a pair of boxers and sliding them on, stopping just before they reached the cutie mark to inspect it in the mirror. The thing looked good, not great, but I had seen worse before. This cutie mark happened to belong to my favorite pony, Rarity, featuring the three distinct diamonds. I hadn't been able to stop grinning when I had first gotten it (after the pain had went away that is) but now the thing was just itchy. “Healing” the tattoo artist had said, giving him a tube of some stuff to rub on it to help with the process. Grabbing the tube I grumbled as I started to rub a bit of the cream onto my birthday gift to myself. It was only a few days old but already I was starting to regret getting it. Frowning at it in the mirror I turn and lower my boxers on the other side to show my blank left thigh. It didn't even look right just having it on one side! Done applying the cream I lift the boxers back up and yawn, thinking about how I had already failed in keeping it hidden once. It was really only a matter of time before everyone knew that I had gone and actually gotten such a silly tattoo. The best thing I could hope for now was to at least keep it secret until my sister had left town, the last thing I needed was her telling our parents about this. Putting the thought out of my head I move across the room to my calendar. She would be arriving in three days now. Thinking I look to my alarm clock next to my bed to check the time. It was now one fifteen in the morning, May 1st. Smiling I bend down and pick up a pen. Scratching of April 30th I smile as I note that it’s now just two days till the 3rd, a date I had checked off as being doubly special since I heard a few weeks ago she would be taking a bus up from Savannah to visit. My parents had said they wanted to visit as well but it was still nice that she could be here on Sunday. It was a shame that she couldn't be here for the birthday party but I had already planned to have it yesterday long before I found out she was coming since it was the last day Josh was going to be in town and he wanted to be part of it. Knowing her though, she would probably want to have another small one when she got into town. From what I had heard from dad she was already working on jokes, getting ready to rub how old I now was in my face. Twenty five, I really don’t feel that old yet, but then again I guess that almost makes sense. Yawning I move to the bed and flop, ready to pass out. It was the end of a long day for me, with work and then a birthday party, but it had been fun. A blast really. Smiling, I close my eyes and quickly drift off to sleep. ~ ~ ~