//------------------------------// // 15 - Noisome Congregation // Story: Outsider's Game: Turning Wheel // by Bluecho //------------------------------// Ch. 15 - Noisome Congregation Knock, knock. “Lyra, come out. It's Twilight Sparkle.” Within moments, the mint-colored unicorn opened the front door, popping her head out. “Oh hey, Twilight. What's going on?” “What's going on is I'm pretty sure you have what I need,” Twilight said. “You wouldn't happen to own a copy of 'Humans Of The Smokey Mountains: A Case Study', penned by Pack Watcher, would you?” Lyra Heartstrings froze. Her entire body shivered. “Um...I don't know what you're...” “Give it up, Lyra,” said Twilight, flatly. “I know you have it.” “N-no, I really don't!” Lyra insisted, shaking her head. “I've n-never heard of such a book in my life! Honest!” She produced a nervous smile, sweat beading on her brow. Twilight sighed. If the unicorn wanted to do it the hard way. “For reasons I have little desire to go into here, I have need of that book,” she explained. “So I requested a search for it in the Canterlot Royal library. Turns out there's a record of that volume being there, but having been loaned by request to the Baltimare University library. It was used by a student for a thesis regarding a possible correlation between bipedal forms and higher instances on a species-wide level of violence. The thesis was rejected, by the way, but that's another matter. “From there it was returned to the Baltimare University library, where it remained for some years. Then, a few short years ago, a student checked out the volume, but never returned it. Instead, she graduated, moving to Ponyville.” Lyra gulped heavily. “So, Lyra,” Twilight continued. “Have you heard about the book now?” “...I always meant to bring it back,” Lyra said, seeming nearly on the verge of tears. “I just...it was so...fascinating...” “Oh, believe me, Lyra,” Twilight said, putting on a soft smile, “I know that feeling. I know it very well. You actually saved me postage, if not time, by having it.” Her smile dropped a bit. “But, just so you know, Baltimare U still expects you to pay the overdue book fine. Just FYI.” “He he, yeah...” Lyra laughed neurotically. “...let me just go upstairs and get it.” She left Twilight waiting a while, until returning with a weathered, well-loved volume enveloped in her aura. “You know, when I was studying music in Baltimare, this was my favorite book. My mom used to tell me all sorts of stories, and one of them was of these amazing, weird creatures called 'humans'. So when I found this book, I fell in love.” She nuzzled her snout against the book, sighing. “Here you go, Twilight.” “Thank you, Lyra,” Twilight said, taking the text, planting it in her saddlebag. “By any chance, mind telling me why the sudden interest in humans?” “If I know a certain friend of mine,” said Twilight, rolling her eyes, “you'll find out soon enough. In the most overwrought fashion possible.” “Mmrr...” Painwheel growled, head bobbing. Her eyelids felt like lead, itchy and sore. The sun outside was shining, birds chirping; truly it was a beautiful day. And Painwheel struggled just to stay awake. Had she the ability, she would lean her reclining chair back and nap the morning – or perhaps the entire day – away. Her parasites weren't even content to afford her a good night's sleep. Maybe if she could just rest her eyes. She watched drowsily as the empty lab dissolved behind her puffy eyelids. A little more time to sleep is all I ask. Her eyes opened, then started closing again. Lab still empty. Rest for my weary body, that I might have respite from the pain. Another opening. Still nothing. Closing them again. That I might forget my troubles. She opened them one last time. “Hi Painy!” Pinkie Pie said, face mere centimeters away. “DAH!” Painwheel squealed, pressing against the chair. In the heat of the moment, her muscles tightened, firing half a dozen spikes from her chest, legs, and arms. “Whee!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, backflipping away from the jutting, impudent needles. “You're like a porcupine jack-in-the-box, you know that Painy?” She chortled happily. “Buh? Fuh...Fuck you!” Painwheel yelled, stilled braced against the chair. Where the hell did the pink pony come from? Her body tried to relax, and the spikes on display slid back into her body. “Grah! Hrgh! Fuck!” she grunted and moaned, her lethal internal armaments settling back inside. She could still feel the stings where they shot out, and the unscratchable itch as they sealed themselves closed. The human gasped and huffed, sinking into her padded prison. “...come...on...why did it...huff...have to be you?” “Uh, because everypony else had a turn to spend time with you, and I didn't?” Pinkie said, smiling. She leaned in close. “Plus, I need you to help me plan your party, Painy.” “What? Party? What party?” Painwheel asked, aghast. She frowned. “And stop calling me 'Painy'.” Pinkie Pie's eyes bugged out, face contorting into one of horror. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I should have realized!” “...oh, okay...” Painwheel said. “So long as you underst-” “I shouldn't have been calling you Painy, Painy,” Pinkie said. Her sad, contrite frown morphed into an elated smile. “I should have called you 'Wheelie'!” To illustrate her point, the pink earth pony ran several steps to the side and tumbled, cartwheeling around Painwheel's chair. “Woopa!” “...” Painwheel speechlessly left her mouth agape. After a moment, she slouched in her seat, crumbling like a ragdoll. “I give up.” “Cool!” Pinkie said, settling beside Painwheel. “That'll make this easier. So for your party, I'm thinking pinwheels. Thousands of them! And it'll be outside, where...” “...wait, what?” Painwheel said, groggily. What a blessed mercy would it be to nod off, abandoning all the insanity of the world – of all worlds – to its/their own devices. “You didn't answer my question. What party?” “Why, your much delayed Welcome-To-Ponyville-Sorry-For-Nearly-Suffocating-You Party, of course!” Pinkie Pie said, matter-of-factly. “I mean, you've been here for days, Wheelie. Days! And you still haven't had a party!” She shook her head. “I blame myself really. There were so many parties to plan and so much stuff to do, I just haven't had the time. Oh my, I might be losing my touch! Do you think I've been losing my touch?” “I-I...I don't...” “Doesn't matter,” the pony said, waving a hoof. “If I've been off my game, I'll just have to jump back on it and make it give me a piggy back ride. And in order to do that, I'll be throwing you that party. But Rarity said I probably shouldn't make it a surprise party, and Fluttershy agreed. They said you're wound up like a spring, and 'need to be acclimated slowly to your new life'.” This quote was accompanied by an upturned chin and a shift into a refined accent. “Fluttershy almost insinuated you shouldn't even have a party, but I know she didn't actually mean that. I know she didn't, because that would be impossible. Everyone loves a party!” “But I don't want a party,” Painwheel whined. Pinkie Pie paused. Painwheel could almost hear the gears in the pony's head seize. “...you...you don't like parties?” Curious. A sudden, inexplicable dread washed over Painwheel. As if she found herself wandered into a minefield. Painwheel was talking to a hopping-mad party pony, for whom having fun and celebrating ranked as gospel. Painwheel only interacted with the pony a few times before, and could gather that much. The human needed to tread lightly. “...I...I mean...” she said. She sighed, “Look, it's not that I don't like parties. I'm just...I'm really tired. I don't feel up to any kind of celebrating.” A true enough summation. Painwheel didn't feel up to celebration. She didn't feel up to much of anything. Activity meant movement, and movement disturbed the Gae Bolga. Even settled, they caused a dull ache across her body, but that she could at least bear. She could bear it much better if she could just sleep. Yes, sleep was good. Unfortunately the pink pony seemed to bounce back to energetic with ease. “Okay, I understand,” Pinkie Pie said. “If you aren't feeling up for a party, there's not a lot we can do.” Painwheel sighed in relief. Maybe now she could convince the pony to kindly leave... “We'll just have to postpone it 'til you're feeling better!” Pinkie cheered, hopping up and down. Annoying. Painwheel gripped the arm of the chair, wincing as the effort sent parasite pain up through her shoulder. She forced herself to relax, if for no other reason than to stifle sensation. “Okay, but there's another reason why I shouldn't have a party.” “Really? What's that?” Pinkie said, tilting her head curiously to one side. “No one would ever come.” “Nonsense Wheelie!” Pinkie said, hopping over to sit beside the human. She commenced patting Painwheel's shoulder, inadvertently inducing incredible agony by smacking against the girl's shoulder “nails”. The pony hardly noticed the human hissing. “Everyone loves a party. My friends and I will be there, as will an entire throng of ponies.” “Ssshh...but...I'm the monster who terrorized the town,” Painwheel hissed through clenched teeth. “No one would go to a party held in that kind of thing's honor.” “You underestimate the ponies of Ponyville,” Pinkie said, self-assuredly. “You underestimate both their love for parties, and their ability to let bygones be bygones. I'm certain most of them have outright forgotten about that little incident.” “We demand that the monster in this library be removed immediately! We won't tolerate it in our town any longer!” Two royal guards stood resolute against a rather sizable mob of ponies. Their rich cacophony of grunts, coughs, stamping feet, and calls of agreement filled the streets surrounding the library. All told, maybe a dozen or two mares and stallions assembled. One of the guards spoke, clearly and firmly, “I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to have to ask you and the rest of these townsponies to disperse.” “We will not disperse,” Goose Down said, earning shouts of approval from behind him. “We demand access to the library and to that monster.” “We can't allow that, sir. We have orders from Princess Celestia that, until further notice, only those approved by Princess Sparkle may enter the premises.” “That's bull pie!” came a shout from within the crowd. “Stop stealing our dead!” “Won't somepony think of the children?!” Goose Down stepped closer to the guards. “You two don't have the ability to stop us. Even I couldn't stop them if I wanted to. We're getting in there, no matter what your orders are,” he said. “And then what?” Heads turned in the direction of the new voice, one flying just over them. Many gasped as Princess Twilight Sparkle touched down. “What the heck is going on here?” “Well look who decided to show up,” Goose Down said, directing his attention towards the alicorn. “Tell your guards to move out of the way. We're here for the monster.” “You're here for her? Why?” Twilight asked, looking around at the incensed throng. She could barely hear over the noisome din. “There's a monster in our midst, Princess,” Goose said, emphasizing Twilight's royal title with more than a little contempt. “Everypony here lives in fear that it's going to bust out and go on another rampage, this time with innocent ponies dying. We've had it up to here with that. So you're going to let us in there.” A chorus of nods and affirmative calls followed. And when it all died – or as much as it ever could – Twilight asked, “And then what?” “What?” Goose Down said, confused. “Let's say I dismiss the guards and let you all trample through my house, what then?” Twilight said, cocking an eyebrow. “What's your ultimate gameplan?” “Well, um...we're going to...end it...” Goose said, struggling for the words. “End it? And what exactly does that entail?” Twilight asked. “Are you going to beat her up? Drag her outside the Ponyville city limits? Chuck her into the Everfree, and let the forest sort it out? Are you going to kill her? Murder Carol in cold blood?” Goose Down looked around to his compatriots. The lot of them looked much more unsure than they were a minute ago. “I uh...it doesn't matter,” he said finally. “What matters is that it's a monster and needs to-” “CAROL IS NOT A MONSTER!” Twilight shrieked. The outburst caused the crowd to flinch, including Goose. She huffed hard. Little beads of sweat formed on her brow. “You keep calling her an 'it', a monster. She's not a monster! She's fifteen year old girl! She's not one of those nameless animals that live in the Everfree forest; she's a little girl with hopes and dreams and a mom and dad of her own, and a bucking name! She's Carol, and she's Painwheel, and she's a sick, sad innocent alone and in pain!” She turned on the crowd, glaring at them. She saw most of them waver under the attention. “What are any of you doing here? Is...is that a pitchfork? It is!” In the back of the crowd, a raised farm implement shot down to the ground fearfully. “You are a literal, real-life pitchfork-wielding angry mob! Do you have any idea how horrible that is? Is this what Ponyville has been reduced to? Angry mobs coming to break down the doors of someone's home, just to get after a possible threat that's already been contained? What is wrong with you?! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!” She turned on their ringleader, Goose Down. “And you!” “M-me?” Goose said, trembling. “Do you have any idea how close you were to getting all of these ponies killed?” “W-what?!” “Carol is contained,” Twilight said. “We're trying to get her better because she's sick and in pain and traumatized. But you have one thing right: she's still a killing machine. And until me and my friends and Princess Celestia can help her heal, she's still dangerous. Stomping in there and trying to throttle her – or whatever you were probably going to end up doing by ear because you had no plan – would be like putting your hoof through a hornets nest. Made of rotary saws and sharp spikes. Carol's in such a delicate stage, you could have set her off and caused the disaster you're so afraid of! Did it ever occur to you that picking a fight with the 'monster' you fear would end badly for you?” She hardly gave Goose Down a moment to sputter in protest before turning back to the crowd. “Everypony go home. I won't let you hurt my guest. She's under my protection! So says Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship! Go on, scatter!” One by one, the ponies did just that. And there was much mumbling and gnashing of teeth, and faces in varying degrees of disappointment, resentment, and shame. Before long, only Goose Down remained, quaking on his hooves. Under the princess' glare, Goose scowled. “Fine...I'll leave,” he said, beginning his trek away. “But don't think I'm just going to let this matter go. I'll take this up with Mayor Mare.” “Oh yeah, you do that,” Twilight said, a note of incredulity and smugness. “See how well you can go over my head by appealing to someone whose authority is so much less than mine. Or who already agreed to do everything Princess Celestia and I told her to. Good luck with that.” “And while Wheelie wasn't too keen on any of the choices, I got her pegged for-” “Yes, that's very nice, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said, watching her pink friend ascend the stairs to leave. “I look forward to the party.” For what it would be worth, anyway. She just succeeded in alienating a sizable chunk of the potential party guests. But at least Painwheel was safe. Too bad said human still refused to look at her. Twilight sighed. She couldn't expect drastic change so soon. Couldn't expect to be forgiven so easily. And Twilight accepted that. She was prepared to accept that as long as it took to reach the girl, to help her. To save her. If it meant that, Twilight could accept her well-deserved scorn. She didn't expect to hear the human speak out to her as she tried to walk away. “Twilight.” The alicorn turned to face her “guest”. “Yes?” “I heard your speech,” the human said, still facing sideways. “Oh, you did?” Twilight said, taken aback. “It was more of a rant than anything. It wasn't all that special.” “You called me Carol,” Painwheel said. “...yes, I did,” Twilight said. “It's your name, so I-” “Don't call me that,” Painwheel said sternly. From the side, her eyes narrowed. “...oh...I'm sorry,” said Twilight, frowning, ears folding against her head. “I guess I have no right to call you that.” “No, you don't get it. You still don't.” The human surprised the alicorn by, for the first time in days, turning her head around and facing Twilight. The pony met a forceful, resolute, sad glare, eyes their disturbing pattern of red-in-black. “Don't call me Carol. Carol is dead.”