//------------------------------// // 3) Silent Day // Story: Smells Like Christmas Morning // by AppleTank //------------------------------// 3) Silent Day This is strange, the Exterminator thought. I’m reaching the end of the tunnel. When his vision cleared enough for him to see properly, he saw his previously burnt hand sitting in a tiny hammerspace pocket. The energy from the void flowed up through his arm like water, slowly replenishing his energy. He looked to his right, and his pupils shrank. The Warper herself, Pinkamena Diane Pie, sat to his side, looking at him forlornly and with slightly deflated hair. “Why?” she asked. “Why do you and your friends have to keep on stopping me from being able to tell Twilight how my Pinkie Sense works, and all the other things I’ve learned to do? I can do it just fine, don’t I?” He stared back at her in silence for a full minute, still as a statue, whether in fear or surprise he didn’t show. “Because that’s all the universe can afford,” he said at last. “You got lucky, and enough beings believed in you, and stopped us from editing you.” She shivered at the emotionless way he spoke. “On the other hand, your little purple friend isn’t known for being able to take shortcuts between places, read ahead, and plan for the future the way you can. At least 99% of them, anyways, and this isn’t that 1%.” He reached behind his head with his free hand and pulled out his bandanna. It was half a meter long. “So, there’s no way you can think of that lets me show her, at all?” Pinkie asked tearfully “I’ve spent years looking at her from afar, never able to explain my Pinkie Sense. I can see the curiosity in her eyes, but I’ve never been able to give her an answer.” The shade sighed. “Sorry. Rules are rules. Tell her, and without enough followers, you might doom this universe.” “Oh.” The two sat silently together for a moment. “What if I just showed her? Like, take her for a ride, and explain to her that I’m obligated by a contract to keep the technique a secret?” The shade scratched his chin. “Just once? Please?” she said. “It’s, well, Hearth’s Warming Eve here, and I thought it would be a nice present.” The shade stuffed the growing linen back under his hat and pulled his hand out of the crack. With a quick flick from hand, black lines sewed the hole shut. He pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. A glint of red light glittered off the lens of his goggles, scrolling downwards. After a moment, he looked back at her. “To tell the truth, I haven’t seen a smile in decades. Always one mission to another, and never having any time to just wander around the place, take in the sights, and give a little nudge to those in trouble. “Alright. In the spirit of holiday miracles, I will grant you one showing. Just fool around, and show her the world only you can see. Even if she can’t go back again, she’ll probably be happy getting a glimpse of it anyways. I’ll stick around to make sure the universe stays stable around you two.” Pinkie squealed. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” She leapt into his surprised arms, hugging him tightly. He blinked, then chuckled, hugging her back and rubbing the back of her head, his left hand disappearing into the curly deeps of her mane. “No problem, filly.” On the other hand, his face, once it exited Pinkie’s field of view, fell back into a blank gaze despite his cheery tone. “Just doing my job.” He pulled his hand out of her mane, C-6’s claws growing out of his palm, dripping a grey chunky fluid as it twitched. And as he laid her down to sleep, her soul for his to keep, he flicked his hand, spraying gruel like bits across the floor to evaporate. “Twilight wouldn’t settle for a glimpse. Once a secret is revealed, she will find a way to get through once more. This world wouldn’t allow a repeat performance.” A black parasprite poked itself out of his mouth, blinked, then fluttered into the back of her head. C-6’s segmented claw retreated back into his hand. “On the other hand, your powers appear to be well developed. You will serve as a great access point to wherever I can’t easily reach by normal means.” He crouched down to her sleeping form. “Your determination to help your friend is admirable, little girl. But rules are rules, and I will not, cannot break them. Too bad I needed to scramble your head completely to destroy the knowledge you have gleaned from the Outside. Don’t worry, nopony will notice. It’s how it should’ve been all along.” He stepped away, his sword rematerializing by his side. “Now if you would excuse me, I have to go hold someone down as their life changes before their eyes.” He sniffed the air, filled with sweets, bad oatmeal, evaporating hope, broken dreams and the energy of imagination. He flicked his wrist, commanding the slumbering pony to sleepwalk and open a portal. “Smells like... Smissmas morning,” He let out a single humorless laugh as he raised his sword and dived back into the void. Altercation Form Class: Wedje | Shtik | Loch. Position: Exterminator | Administrator | Protector Title: H.M. Conagher Location: Mammal / Magic / Magic Creatures / Multiple Sapient Species / Equine-centered / Offshoot #36388 Changes: Pinkamena “Pinkie” Diane Pie has part of her mind locked down. Reason: Subject was getting too inquisitive and powerful. She can easily open rifts and jump between two points with ease. She was considering telling her friend, a powerful mage, how to do the same. Repeated attempts to stop this plot point has failed, so more direct actions needed to be taken. Note: For practical reasons, you can now use her to manually open rifts. Try not to alert the locals when you have taken direct control. She is very useful for movement related purposes, but she still has her own place in her town. We cannot disturb that. I folded up the form and tossed it into the air behind me. With a thought, it exited stage left and into the hub. Soon, the information will be sent to everyone who goes by this area. Me? Just back to the same old grind, executing eldritch abominations and silencing free will, and conducting dishonorable combat. A gentle breeze blew around me. Spring birds chirped happily in the garden beside me. I gave a sharp toothed smirk at a Castle. In my hand sat a glass jar, its lid scrawled with runes. Inside, a black dot sat, a single eyeball darting around furiously. A wristband of unicorn horns jangled like wind chimes. “Fillies, gentlecolts. I’d like for you to meet the idiot ball.” A pocket watch fell out of his right shirt sleeve, dangling by its chain “Starting in three...two...one....” The horns glowed.... What happens next? It could be a dark, heart wrenching tragedy, or a raunchy, gut busting comedy. Use your imagination, and find out where it takes me.