//------------------------------// // Mare Who Cried "Uncle" // Story: Odrsjot // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// “Triple barreled, huh?” Josho grinned in the morning light of a new day. He telekinetically rotated a manarifle before his gaze with an approving nod. “I could think of at least four different jokes to say right now, but none of them are appropriate for a filly’s ears.” Kera turned from playing with Simon, frowned, and shot a ball bear at him with her slingshot. “Gah!” He reached back and rubbed his sore flank. “Ya little scampster!” “Kera!” Belle snapped, frowning as she paused in exiting the Noble Jury’s top deck. “Bad filly!” She turned her nose up, suppressing a smirk. “Aim lower…” “Heheheh…” Pilate chuckled as he trotted ahead with Eagle Eye and Ebon Mane. “You’re a horrible influence,” Josho grumbled at Belle as he continued squinting at the rifle. “Still, she’s a way faster draw than me at this rate.” He turned and frowned at the only Searonese pony in the hangar. “Would it have killed you to have cleaned this first before lending it to me?” “Look, I said it was a discount from the Rust District, didn’t I?” Roarke grumbled metallically through her helmet as she clopped forward on steel hooves. “And I’m not lending. It’s yours, you dinosauric breeder.” “Hmmph… well, at least I’ll get an excuse to examine it,” the stallion muttered. “And look after Kera, right?” Belle asked. “I’d trust Floydien, but he usually has his head caught between his antlers.” ”Floydien heard golden boomer’s spit!” “The golden boomer is well aware of that!” “Don’t you worry, Missy,” Josho said as he patted a hoof on Kera’s forehead. “She’s safe and sound by my side while you all go do your welcome wagon thing for Props.” Kera frowned and lit her horn. “Gaah!” Josho grunted as his fetlock caught fire. He shook it out, blew on it, and sighed. “I think I’m safer playing with this new gun…” “Just don’t be using the squirrel for target practice,” Rainbow Dash muttered as she fluttered ahead, coasting over the bouncing, bouncing figure of Props. “Wooohooo! Over the rust and through the grime, to Uncle’s house we gooo-ooo-ooo!” “You make it sound like there’s a palace waiting for us!” Eagle Eye said with a bright smile, his sword and shield clattering along his lavender flanks. “Uncle Prowse’s shop is better than a palace!” Props spun around and backtrotted. She grinned and rearranged her lopsided goggles as the group made their way out of the hangar and into the bustling marketplaces of the Bronze District. “It’s got steam engines and factory parts and recycled manacores!” “Sounds positively enchanting,” Pilate said with a smirk. “Is it really safe to be around that much open machinery?” Rainbow Dash asked. She scratched her head as she hovered protectively above the group. “All the zeppelins of this place have ever done is try and hunt me down dead. I can’t imagine it a good idea to be around their exposed parts.” “Don’t be a silly filly, silly filly!” Props spun about and pranced forward with her eyes happily shut. “Uncle Prowse knows better than to leave hazardous materials lying in the open! After all, he’s all about delivering the best tinkering service to customers from all corners of the sky! Both Sooters and Whitewashed alike!” “Besides, I’ve been to her place tons of times,” Ebon said with a smile. “I’ve not experienced anything worse than a slight taste of metal in my mouth.” He tongued the insides of his cheek and muttered, “And a nosebleed…” He shuddered as his smiled dissolved. “For… uhm… th-three hours straight.” Clang! Rainbow Dash rammed into a hanging store sign. “Ow!” “Careful there, Rainbow,” Belle said from below. “Unnngh…” Rainbow rubbed her wincing forehead as she caught up with the group. “I hate to be the selfish elephant in the room, Props, but what are the odds that your Uncle Ponky--” “Prowse.” “Whatever. What are the odds that he could--I dunno--take a look at the Jury for us before we ship off? I mean, like, you’ve done a whole lot of stuff for us already and that’s super cool, but if he’s taught you everything you know, then surely he’s the best pony around these parts to give Floydien’s ship a once-over.” “Or a twice over,” Pilate said, smiling. “Yeah. What he said.” “Oh! You bet!” Props grinned from ear to ear. “He’ll be so happy to see me that he’ll bust a nut!” “Uhhhh…” “His left forelimb is a prosthetic. Two models behind, unless he replaced it while I was gone.” Props winked behind them as they trotted down the hazy end of the Bronze District. “He always loses a rivet or two when he’s stretching to reach something.” She giggle-snorted. “Or using the outhouse!” “Any help he would give us would be appreciated, Miss Props,” Pilate said. “Perhaps he’d be willing to rig some weaponry to the vessel’s hull,” Roarke droned. “Roarke, honestly!” Belle exclaimed. “Don’t tell me that it’s not a good idea, considering what’s in store for us.” “We’ll approach that unthinkable precaution when the time comes.” “And why not now?” “They have…” Eagle Eye’s cute face scrunched up in thought. “...outhouses up here?” Ebon Mane leaned in. “You’re best doing your business on board the Jury.” “Right. I actually got it to smell reasonably nice just last week.” “Yes. Yes, you did.” Ebon Mane trotted ahead to join Props’ bouncy side. In the meantime, Eagle Eye glanced behind him… then up. Rainbow Dash blinked. She caught Eagle’s gaze, then looked back. Eagle Eye stared. Rainbow Dash stared back. Eagle Eye cleared his throat and motioned with his head towards Ebon Mane. Rainbow Dash bit her lip. Eagle Eye motioned more emphatically. Rainbow Dash sighed, flew ahead a bit faster, then caught up with the stallion in question. “Uhm… say… Ebon…” “Hmm? Yes, Rainbow?” “I was… uh… just wondering if… I mean… that is…” “Heh… cat got your tongue, Austraeoh?” “Shhh!” Rainbow Dash hissed, hovering lower. “Don’t call me that in public!” “Why?” Ebon asked blinking. “You think Ledomaritan spies are listening in?” “I heard you,” Pilate said from a few trots back. Belle glanced at him. “Are you a Ledomaritan spy, darling?” “No, but I certainly know how to make my way around the shadows…” He leaned in and nuzzled her before murmuring something into her ear. “Pilate!” she gasped, shoving him with a playful laugh. He chuckled as he struggled to regain his straight walk. Roarke groaned and kept her distance. “Ahem… Seriously, Rainbow Dash,” Ebon spoke, looking aside at Rainbow. “What did you want to ask me?” “I… wanted to ask… if…” Rainbow Dash’s mouth lingered. Eagle Eye leaned in, his ears twitching. With a sigh, Rainbow Dash grumbled, “You would teach me how to make cinnamon bread before you go.” “Oh! That’s it?” Ebon grinned. “Rainbow, there’s nothing wrong with a secret desire for baking sweets!” He patted her blue side and resumed trotting along with Props. “I’ll be sure to pass you along a recipe before I take my leave!” “Yeah. Awesome. That would be…” Rainbow Dash floated back as she winced into the distant storefronts. “...awesome.” Eagle Eye facehoofed, then trotted along with a heavy breath. “Just one more bend!” Props sing-songed as she skipped around a corner. “Ohhhhh I do hope he finished that Three-Pronged Multi-Energy Mana Converter! That’s just what I need to make the non-stationary weather buoy launcher! It’ll help the Sooters of Gray Smoke days in advance so we can plan our sales accordingly!” She giggled with a high-pitched voice as the group came upon a sun-lit clearing of metal and mortar cobblestones. “That’ll give us a leg over the Upper Roost! Or a wing! Or a tailfeather! Ha!” Ebon Mane gasped, freezing in his tracks. A similar breath came sharply from Belle’s mouth as she leaned worriedly against Pilate. Roarke was silent while Eagle Eye gaped and Rainbow Dash hovered to a stop. The pegasus murmured, “Whoah…” “I know!” Props reared her front hooves with a toss of her blonde mane. “Isn’t it spectacular? Especially how the neon sign shimmers above the red-painted entrance?” “Uhhhh…” Ebon gulped and pointed ahead. “...Propsy?” “That’s my name! Don’t wear it out!” The stallion merely continued pointing. “Huh?” Slowly, Props turned around. She blinked at the scene. There were no neon signs. In fact, there was hardly even an entrance. An entire building had collapsed into a burnt mesh of brittle brown bulkheads and tangled insulation. Rusted red slabs stuck out at awkward angles like broken ribs. The entire courtyard was a dead end, through and through, with no sign of movement or any engineering to be seen from within. “Ohhhh…” Props’ ears sadly drooped on either side of a blank expression. “Poop.”