//------------------------------// // The Hunt, The Costume, and the Numbing // Story: To Serve Bronies // by Fuzzy Necromancer //------------------------------// Lyra shook her tooth-jar furiously. She'd been hot on the trail of something that lit up the dismbodied tooth like Summer Sun Celebration fireworks, and licked the savory blood from a few razor leaves that tasted sweeter than prized champagne. She'd picked up hints of uric acid, fresh human spore amongst the tracks, and then it had all gone wrong. The tooth stubbornly pointed away from the copperhead tracks and human footprints, back towards ponyville. What kind of sense did that make? What bizarre motivation would drive the humans towards a unicorn-intensive population and away from the safety of the trees that monkey-like creatures love so much? Right here, a new sign appeared in the trail. It was broad and clawed, like the track of a bear or a large wolf, but there were no parallel sets of tracks. The thick tree canopy cut off most of the natural light. Something screamed in the middle-distance, but its voice cut off with a strangled gargling noise. Lyra reconsidered the wisdom of pressing her quarry any further. Maybe it was time to find a safe spot and set up camp for the night. She hoped that she could find her human specimin when it was still alive and in one piece. A few gnawed bones would not be very exciting now. # Pinkie Pie shook her head. “No, the streamers need to be much higher. Like this!” She stretched her neck out a few meters. Reiko jerked back from Pinkie Pie with a wince. “Some how it's less funny and more disturbing in person,” she said, with a grimace. “What do you mean?” Pinkie asked, twisting her head upside down. Reiko shuddered. “Never mind. I'll just get along with sketching the party plans for you. It sure is handy to have fingers,” Reiko said, wiggling her fingers and grinning. “Yup, they are pretty useful,” Pinkie Pie said, nodding. Reiko stared at her for a few seconds and cupped a hand to her ear, then resumed drawing. Pinkie dove into the trunk of theatrical supplies she'd dragged up from the basement. There were sparkly fake-gold half-masks from Spirit of the Theater-pit, and fabulous costumes with sequins and fake fur. There were nightmare-moon paper-mache masks and an ornate ivory mask of Princess Celestia. Pinkie Pie rummaged a little further until she found the packed-up outfits from the Hearthwarming's Eve play. It sure was fun being at center stage in the royal theatre, and making everypony laugh with pompous antics and hypocritical humor. “Did you ever perform on stage? I was Puddinghead,” Pinkie said, by way of explanation and to connect with the subject on a personal level. “My parents don't like me doing public things,” Reiko said, distantly. “It draws too much attention.” “That's too bad,” Pinkie Pie said. She liked getting attention! Everyone needed somepony to pay attention to them now and then. Pinkie Pie bounded over to Reiko with one of the Hearthwarming's Eve costumes and gave her a one-legged hug. “I like you're hair, and you're fun to be around.” Reiko shuddered, then squeezed Pinkie back tighter than an anacondagator. “Thank you. That really means a lot to me.” Pinkie Pie froze. Reiko sniffed back and wiped her eyes. “I'm not crying you know,” she said. “It's just hard to see these little lines.” After a few seconds, she added, “What's that costume?” “Can't you tell, silly filly?” Pinkie Pie said. The outfit was long and shiny-white, with pale blue streaks painted on. Strips of orange and blue foil around the hoof-cuffs made it look like the feet were on fire, and some underwiring made the costume's middle look abnormally emaciated, even on a portly actress. The best part was the mask, though. It was long and translucent and white, a bit like a horse skull and a bit like a ghostly mime. Panes of bluish-green glass made it hard to see the performer's eyes,, and long streamers on the back fluttered and flapped in the slightest breeze. A bronze tube in the mouthpeice would reverberate to make the smallest voice sound loud, hollow, and echoing, as if coming from an icy cave. “It's a Windigo costume!” # “Is this going to hurt?” Jamal asked. “It will hurt more if you don't stop squirming,” Twilight Sparkle said. She tightened the straps on Jamal's hand a bit to minimize the chance of missing the vein, then squeezed the excess bumblethorn venom out of her syringe. “I just need to give you a little Painlessness Potion.” “Um, is that addictive at all?” the human said, eyeing the needle. “I just ask because I was on painkillers for a while, and it, um, didn't go well for me. That was back when I was with the wife of course,” he bit his lip. “Don't worry your fuzzy little head,” she said. “It's not addictive.” She poked the thin needle right between his knuckles. Jamal bit back a squeal of pain. “Just relax. It'll be over really soon.” “Is this necessary?” Jamal said. “I mean, can't you just take a little skin sample to get my DNA?” Twilight Sparkle pulled out the Drol Emit Guide to Morphic Resonance and waved the color diagram in front of the human's face. “Well if I was only working with regular genetics, I could pluck one of your hairs, but breaching the intercosmic voids requires operation in advanced quantum genetics.” She stuck out her tongue in concentration. “Let me know when your hand feels numb. I don't want to cause any unnecessary suffering.” Jamal increased his respiration and perspiration. These humans sure were a nervy lot. “Isn't most suffering unnecessary?” Twilight's tummy rumbled. “That depends on what philosophy you subscribe to.” Twilight lifted up a silver-engraved tool that would look, to the layman, kind of like a cross between a tofurkey baster and a can opener. She could hear Jamal's heart thudding as she brought it close to his wrist. There was a tentative knock at the basement door. “Um, T-Twilight? I g-got you some nachos. I thought you m-might still be hungry.” Twilight looked guiltily at Jamal. “Are you okay if I leave you alone here for just a bit?” Jamal sighed. “Yeah. You need to make up some ground with him.” She placed the book on morphic resonance in his free hand. “You can educate yourself on metamagic and cosmic principles while you wait!” “Joy,” Jamal said, with a lifeless expression.