Morning.
It’s finally morning, more importantly, it certainly isn’t last night. I groggily sat up in my unkempt bed, groaning from the unholy mixture of head trauma and drinking an entire bottle of vodka because my liver isn’t capable of melting. Of course, I don’t actually have a liver, so that helps too. My skull was making it very clear that it wanted some serious changes in my lifestyle, but I wasn’t going to risk missing out on game night just so we can ‘spend time together’. On an unrelated note, SWEET SAUCY SHIPPING I’M IN PAIN!
The bed creaked unhappily beneath me as I sat up, and began to crawl down the hallway like a depressingly slow cart crash completely devoid of any explosions, or orphans… or exploding orphans. Daggers of pain stabbed through my already waning focus, and for a moment, I just stared at the spots forming in my vision. Regaining my senses, I pulled my limp body into the quaint little kitchen, all the while contemplating whether or not alcohol actually could have given me some of the nastier effects it has on Equestrians. I still had to go to work today, and the very thought was enough to get my head pounding even harder. Honestly, I should’ve just gotten mugged, this is at least ten times worse.
Clambering to my hooves, I used a countertop to stabilize myself, and began scanning the room. There wasn’t much here, aside from the short, undecorated hallway leading to my bathroom and bedroom respectively, all I had was the kitchen, and the living room connecting to it. A small sofa was located in the alcove in the floor, which housed the rest of my useless little loveseats I never used, ironically. I prefered the high ceiling, it gave me a nice feeling of the old flying space that existed inside the cavern. Luckily, the windows were closed, giving the whole house a dim, drunkard-friendly look, and immediately reminding me of the throbbing in my head. I really needed to see somepony, as much as I hate their presence, I’d rather not focus entirely on the searing pain. So off to work, I suppose.
I’ve got a weird relationship with glassblowing. Sure, it’s really quite boring at times, but it helps me clear my mind whenever I mercilessly beat civilians and blow my cover at the last possible secon-
“Ignore that thought” I murmured unhappily, a bead of sweat slowly forming on my brow. My horn was busy superheating glass into a moldable form, the red hot mass slowly growing tendril like appendages from the base. A group of three ponies at the counter watched, idly ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ as the glass was inflated with air being pressed into surgically specific areas, much like a blowpipe, which is used by earth pony glassblowers. At last, a small, translucent tree stood proudly before me, refracting light into a small rainbow, and reminding me of a certain local nutjob.
“That was a fantastic sight, Mr.Reflection.” Said the stallion, standing in front of what I assumed to be his wife and daughter. “You’ve got quite some talent!”
“Uh...much appreciated.” I said quietly, nodding my head as carefully as I could to both acknowledge his compliment, and keep it from falling off my shoulders. His daughter continued to ogle the little tree as I placed it on the counter, admiring the small twigs and grooves I crafted.
“Daddy, look at the tiny bird!” She squeaked adorably, pointing a hoof at the robin I had absently sculpted onto a branch, and forgotten about. “What should we name him?” She asked with her head cocked to one side, seemingly vibrating in place with childish vigor. The father gave his daughter a smile, and rolled his eyes.
“How much will that be then?” He asked, we exchanged bits for the sculpture, then he exited, beckoning his family to follow. The foal stayed for just a few brief moments after her mother had left.
“I’ll name him ‘Defeathered Reflocktion’, so he’ll always remember you.” She whispered, giving me a great beaming grin, and a wink before she ran off. I just shook my head and smiled sadly at the door. The pain had died down a bit, and I was finally regaining some of my senses.
“Thanks, kid.” I sighed, knowing full well it would go unheard by all but myself. The store grew quiet once again, I had nothing but my thoughts, and a childish pun to distract me now. Yet strangely enough, the pain in my head receded, if only for just a little bit longer.
Well, time to face the falsely slurred, accented music. The door opened with a near silence, adding to the dread that I was struggling to suppress. I wasn’t particularly scared of Lucky, but over the years we had built a steady comradery, and I wasn't keen on jeopardizing it. I raised my left hoof, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door frame.
“What’s this then?” A muffled voice shouted from the doorway behind the counter. “Oi, we don’t serve nopony afte-” Lucky stormed into the main room, his small rant cut short once he got a proper look at me.
“M-mind if I sit down.” I asked, realizing that I had started to shake the second I heard Lucky yelling.
“Uh, course not.” He said softly, letting the accent slip into his less ‘extravagant’ voice. I occupied the nearest booth, laying back in the comfortable seat and sighing, I waited for him to sit down as well. “Ya look great there, Diflex.” He said, patting my shoulder as he slid in across from me.
“Listen, Lucky, you never...slipped any info in a drunken stupor or anything, right?” I asked, ignoring his sarcastic quip. His eyes immediately shot open at that.
“...The hell did you just ask me?” His low voice sounding more akin to a growl. I looked him in the eye, my own expression struggling to match the ferocity of his.
“I mean, maybe you got a little tipsy, and shared a tiny fact or two abou-
*CRACK*
I flew out of my chair as his left hoof connected with my muzzle, and landed painfully on the wooden floor. Before I could react, I was pulled off the floor and pinned to the wall by my throat, much like that unicorn in the alley. His right foreleg was pressed against my neck, holding me to the wall and barely allowing my hind legs to touch the ground.
“You ever so much as think about something as stupid as that again, and i’ll split your damn head in two.” He said, and to be perfectly honest, I didn’t doubt that. I had only seen Lucky like this once before, I think the stain was still barely visible on the corner of the bar.
“Listen, I didn't mean it like t-that.” I wheezed, yanking on the offending leg in an attempt to free myself. He unceremoniously dumped me on the floor, before yanking my head up to look me in the eyes.
“Now then, what in Luna’s name made you think that?” He said, the 'head-splitting' hostility fading out of his tone. I was trying my hardest to respond, but my head was swimming with pain, and this time, it wasn’t a hangover. He rolled his eyes at my dazed expression, and pulled me back up into the booth. “Well then, get talkin’ fast, ‘fore I have to smack some more sense into ya.”
I explained the whole situation, detailing as much of the fight as I could clearly remember. Finally, when I finished, we got to the real kicker.
“We can explain all this off, ‘Flex, with enough time. So whats with all the betrayal talk?” He asked, rubbing his muzzle in exasperation.
“Lucky.” I started weakly, struggling to find the right words, “They...they had emotion wards protecting them beforehoof.” Was all I managed to get out. His narrowed eyes opened in surprise, as he slowly sat up straight in his seat.
“By the All-Maker, you can’t possibly mean…” I cut him off with a stiff nod, my cover burned away in emerald green flames, illuminating the gloomy bar. We truly met eye to eye once again, for the first time in months. My chitin shined brightly from the contained fire, before dimming to it’s usual dulled black. He merely shook his head, cradling it in his forelegs as he realized the implications.
“Maybe they were the only ones, you said you wiped em’ after they were down and out, yeah?” He asked hopefully, ears perking up at the thought.
“Maybe they weren't, Lucky, that's the problem.” I said solemnly, although I seriously hoped that I was wrong, for once. We both sat in silence for a while, basking in all the shades of screwed we might be. “We’re a strange bunch, huh?” I asked humorlessly in an attempt to kill the somber atmosphere.
“Least’ I don’t look half as ugly.” He said, chuckling weakly. I gave him an irritated hiss, shaking my head at his obviously inferior pony ranking system.
“I’ll have you know I was quite the prize back in the hive!” I said in mock offense, willing to put up with any of his antics to get off the topic. No we weren't fixing anything, but honestly, we didn't have to until it posed a real threat. Procrastination is a truly magical thing. Giving him a big, fanged smile, I stated in the most eloquent voice I could manage, “Oh, and Lucky?”
“Yeah, ‘Flex?” He responded, giving me his full attention.
“...Your emotions taste like piss.”
*WHACK*
The second smack was totally worth it.