//------------------------------//
// 51: Imported Vices by VelvetHeart 
// Story: Xenophilia: Shotglass Oneshots 
// by TheQuietMan 
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Imported Vices by VelvetHeart

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Countless years have passed since the Age of Harmony, a time now only remembered in quaint little fantasy games that linger tenaciously, gathering dust on servers that obediently churn their plates to give the lost ponies their fix of escapism.

It no longer matters to the ponies living in their lofty towers, sky-high phallic symbols of glass and steel, picturesque little terraces and online shopping-malls. The great void left by the Princesses is no longer felt either - and only those with ancient knowledge would even care that the sky around the sun was now peppered with arcane symbols and warped structures - creations meant to keep all but SolCorp from moving their property; the very thing that fed life to the world, now a monopoly.

Down in the shadowed slums, however, the shining sun brought little joy; Burnt-out, haggard, the street-corners were filled with the lost and lonely stallions who had nothing left to sell but themselves. Their bruises told tales of abuses and cruel clients, but they still lingered, longingly, for the mare to spend such a large portion of her coin just to stay clasped in loving hooves - to not be lonely for just one night.

Dilapidated buildings, their once-pristine beauty tarnished by the steady scrape of time and acid rain, stood crowded together like shivering survivors in the cold. Though dismal, it was a normal day; the sick, the drunk and the desperate abandoned to their fates, until fate struck; One of the buildings, already teetering, trembled as the bottom floor disappeared in a fiery blast. The upper half, complete with its pony inhabitants, sank into the rubble within seconds. None survived, but one saw the cause:

"They's wearin' these black suits, you see. More 'spensive than pony lives 'round here, so I thought: Snipsy, y'd better be keepin' an eye on those them mares." The street urchin sat at the table, his face barely visible over the edge as he talked. "One o' them dropped something, so I gots it for yeh, I know you likes this stuff." A tiny envelope was pushed across the softly-lit table, into the hesitant telekinetic grasp of a pearly-white unicorn in pristine garb.

"Why, ehm, thank you. Here you go, our usual agreed sum."

Credits were transferred, and with his booty fresh on his stick, the little urchin shot off. Best not to be seen talking too much, after all.

Rarity idly turned the small paper folder around, tilting her head this way and that. Without taking her eyes off the clue, she licked her lips and stated, "I already know you're there, dear. Why don't you come up and introduce yourself? It will go better than stalking back there, you're not as stealthy as you think you are."

With a metal clack, a cybernetic leg slapped to the ground nearby, swiftly followed by three more. The black limbs were clunky, metallic, obviously-artificial, but practical in design, and attached to a very sturdy-looking earth-pony mare. "Ah ain' got anythin' against you, miss. Ah was thinkin' you'd be needing some back-up for this one. And this mission? It's personal." A gleaming blade shot out from the mare's right foreleg, sharpened to a nigh-unnatural edge. "M'name's Applejack. Street Samurai Applejack."





"Ehm." Applejack looked down at the piece of paper in front of her, the countless scribbles quickly becoming a confusing blur as she tried to muddle through the various statistics and scores. "Ehm, I'm strong, an' fast, and tough an' such, so you're gonna need me, and stuff. Is this where Ah roll one o' these dice?"

"We'll get to rolling dice soon enough, Applejack," Lero replied from behind a cardboard screen. "But first, let's give the rest of the group some time to introduce themselves, ok? I understand Rainbow Dash has been aching to make an entrance for a good half hour now."