//------------------------------//
// The War on Parties 
// Story: How to Make Enemies and Be Generally Unsociable 
// by Okhlahoma Beat-Down 
//------------------------------//

Quite honestly, I was amazed how a little forest incursion, a few broken ribs, dislocated limbs, first degree burns and then coming back alive could change public opinion. All around as we entered, ponies were cheering for the girls (Thoroughly deserving of that praise, they kicked Nancy right back to hell) and their 'Guardian' that pulled them through. I honestly didn't think I needed, deserved, or wanted ponies cheering my name right then. At that time, I was following along behind them with rifle in hand (So kindly returned by Maya), and with my new friends following. We'd picked up Schwaiger on the way back, after finding him holding a map open against a rock. There was a brief moment where we thought that Rainbow was going to try and sock him one on the jaw (Keyword: Try), but that quickly passed when I called over to him. The walk back with the Elements wasn't really that 'talky' for we humans: Mostly, we kept to ourselves for the trip back to Ponyville, and the little speaking we did do with each other was mostly limited to a few questions about previous work, why we were here (I didn't need telling twice), and most importantly, if we could get home.
As I looked over at Maya during the celebration, I could see that she didn't seem too comfortable with the cheerfulness. It was like she was anticipating, wanting something to go wrong. I don't know how things were done on Pandora at the time, but judging by her constant fiddling with her fancy acid SMG it mostly revolved around 'Shoot first, take everything, sell it later'. A look to Schwaiger on the other hand, and you'd hardly know that he'd just been working for the very enemy that I'd just went to go defeat. He had his Springfield slung over his back, offering small waves to ponies who gave the gesture prior, and he, unlike Maya and myself, was smiling. I could understand that this was probably the least murky place he'd been for years, especially after surviving the Second World War and an undead apocalypse, but he just seemed too comfortable with it. Did he even know that we might not be able to make it back?
I frowned, and continued behind the Elements as a gleaming golden chariot swept down from the sky, carrying Princess Celestia and Mini Nancy. Twilight, being Twilight, was ecstatic to see her mentor, immediately galloping up to receive a hug. Or...neck...hug...thing. I'm not good with emotions. The other Elements moved up beside Twilight, and the crowd went quieter. "Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Rarity Belle, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash," she began. The girls puffed their chests out in pride. "As Princess of Equestria, it is my great pleasure to officially grant you the title of the 'Elements of Harmony'." That small sentence somehow set off the crowd into another round of cheering. Once again, the Elements gave out waves, but this time, Twilight looked less pleased. "What is the matter, Twilight? You're now free to return to Canterlot and continue your studies. Are you not pleased?" Twilight looked at Celestia sadly.
"Thank you, Princess," she sighed, "But it's just that now I've learned the magic of friendship, I have to leave my friends behind." The crowd went slightly quieter. I raised a hand.
"Don't make the mistake of leaving your friends alone, Twilight," I smirked. "You still have friends to return to, all of mine are probably dead at the moment. You've got some, stick with 'em. 'Sides, last time I left a friend alone, he'd managed to set himself on fire and get his foot stuck in a bucket. Not saying your friends'll do that, but between you and me?" I looked at the girls. "I'm betting Rainbow will crash into a stack of boxes at some point fairly soon."
"Hey!" the cyan mare piped up as the crowd laughed. Celestia smiled, and looked Twilight in the eyes. Then, she turned to a small purple lizard that had appeared. "Spike, take a note please," she ordered. I kind of zoned out on the note's contents, and looked at Schwaiger and Maya.
"This sure is fun," Maya said sarcastically, raising two thumbs with a small grin that basically said 'I'm pissing with you'.
"Mm," I nodded, tipping my hat back slightly and scratching my forehead. "And fairly soon, she'll be talking with us."
"Whatever she says is more than likely going to affect our lives here," Schwaiger noted, nonchalantly pulling out a match and a cigarette, then promptly striking the match against one of the objects on Maya's belt. The Siren was momentarily alarmed, before calming down as she realized that the good doctor was just getting his tobacco fix. More than likely, it would somehow make him calmer than he already was, and I knew that if I introduced this man to any TF Industries Soldier, they'd scream 'HIPPY!' at the top of their lungs and start firing a shotgun in a dangerously careless manner. After a puff of said cigarette, he sighed. "I think it would be best if we listened carefully."
At that moment, Celestia had turned to us, and I straightened up slightly and tipped my hat. "G'day, Shiela." I greeted calmly with a nod added in. She didn't seem to register my greeting outside of a blink of confusion as to what I'd just said, she cleared her throat in a strangely sincere way.
"Maya, Dr. Schwaiger, and Face McShooty II," she began. I heard Maya stifle a chuckle, as though she'd heard my name before somewhere and it had an embarassing owner. "For your services in defeating Nightmare Moon and helping the Elements of Harmony complete their mission, I am more than proud to grant you the title of 'Defenders of Harmony'." This one yielded noticeably less applause than the girls had received, and I gave a smug two-fingered salute to Rainbow. She let out a huff, and it seemed that the gesture was universal in that she rolled her eyes as well.
"I take this title with pride," Maya said softly. "Thank you, Princess."
"More recognition for what I did than the Reich planned for me earlier on when I planned to defect," Schwaiger shrugged, taking another puff. "I appreciate the kind words of encouragement."
"This is better than a hat," I said in a tone that barely gave a hint of sarcasm. "Seriously, that's pretty much what I would have been getting paid. Hats. Glroious hats. But yeah, this is much greater than any title I could have achieved back in TF Industries. Thanks, Shiela." My response seemed to get a small laugh from the Princess, and the applause started up again. It was likely to stay, but just as we three humans planned to wander off, Celestia pulled us back.
"Just so you know," she chuckled, "I should have your accommodation set up by tomorrow. There's an old hotel out of town, I'm going to get that renovated enough for you to use." Maya smiled.
"Thank you, your graciousness," she said politely as Celestia walked away. Once she was out of earshot and the partying began, I looked at the two of them.
"Bar?" I asked.
"Bar," they both replied exasperatedly. The three of us began to make our way through clusters of ponies dancing and enjoying themselves.
The three of us just need a quiet place and a few drinks.



Due to his German heritage and bloodline, it was safe to say that Schwaiger was practically immune to alcohol. Even after shot upon shot of vodka, he still wasn't showing even the faintest signs of being drunk. Since I'd paced myself, my vision was only slightly blurred. Maya, on the other hand, was already sleeping with her face on the table, mouth open and drooling whilst she snored fairly loudly. That was only after a single shot of the 'Tiberian' vodka that Schwaiger had been necking for hours, and to be honest, she was pretty cute when she was asleep.
But pretend I didn't say that, I'm a Mercenary Sniper, not...a lovey-dovey bloke, alright?
Anyway, the conversation between the German and myself had simply boiled down to 'Were there really zombies?'
"I'm not denyin' it, mate," I raised my hands slightly as the barmare brought over another round. "I've seen zombies before. Every Halloween, a couple of blokes on my team and the other team would basically turn into zombies. Not the best sight to see a Skeleton standing behind you poised for a backstab." He winced.
"Ach, don't remind me of the Skeletons," he dismissed. "Goddamned bags of bones. Couldn't shoot them in the head, you had to hit them in the chest, where they had strange glowing organs. Spooky, ja?"
"Heh," I chuckled, necking my next shot. I swallowed, paused, and let the nausea pass, then shook my head and carried on. "Ja."
"And as far as I can gather, your friends were fine afterwards," he replied. The light above the booth shone onto the brow of his fedora, giving him an almost 'faceless contact' kind of appearance. "With the type I was dealing with, it wasn't 'costumes', it seemed more like...ritually resurrected bodies. No advanced thinking, there wasn't any kind of variation with the regular wanderers, and most of the bodies were able to get back up a second time if you missed the head." He paused to light a cigarette. "Truly chilling stuff."
"But you mentioned 'regular' wanderers," I noted, my alcohol-infused mind picking out some useful details. "What's that mean, so there were some that were different?"
"Correct," he replied, giving his cigarette a brief tap on the edge of the table and letting the ashes drop to the floor into the darker area of the bar. "You wouldn't be mistaken in assuming that Satan sent a few more up to stop my companions and I. There were snipers capable of leaping from perch to perch. There were zombies that came with dozens of explosives strapped to themselves and would simply...how you say, 'kamekaze'?" I nodded, my mind briedly flashing back to the time that a Demoman on my team thought it would be of top-notch humour to run at the enemy Medic and blast him to pieces by hitting him with a stick grenade. We called those psychos 'Demokazes'. "Some of them were tougher: There were demons themselves that came up and supercharged zombies, and there were some that carried machine guns and neither simply. Wouldn't. Die." He punctuated by tapping his cigarette lightly with his finger.
"Again." I murmured. He raised a brow.
"Again?"
"Again. They're zombies. They simply wouldn't die again. They've died already." It seemed the joke had passed him. I sighed. "Germans have a bloody awful sense of humour."
"Nein, schießekopf," he replied, sipping some beer. "You just aren't that funny."



The next day, after the bartender had told us that the tab was free for what we did (Milking the fame, lads), we made our way over to the hotel outside of town. It was supposedly closed after income dried up, and gradually fell into disrepair, but you could never have guessed that from how well the Princess had it repaired. Windows were cleaned to an immaculate shine, doors were welcoming, there was no paint chipping off the walls, and it almost seemed as though it had just been built, to be honest. My mind briefly flashed to my home for the past few years before that, my old van, and I wondered for a moment what had happened with that old thing. That, and my backpack: Where the hell did my gear go? I actually liked that Strange Shotgun, contrary to the popular idea that a Sniper should be a good mile away when he shoots somebody. I was brought back by a whistling. "None to shabby," Maya mused. She was squinting, and looked more grey than she had yesterday, so the hangover was definitely hitting hard. Schwaiger didn't seem to show any sign of a hangover. "Here's to hoping the beds are comfy."
"Anything's more comfortable than a table," I said calmly, and her immediate response was to try and shoot me a glare then rub her head through migraines. "Anyway, we've got way more rooms than we expected, so I think we could probably have our own room each."
"Really?" Schwaiger asked sarcastically as we made our way over to the stallion by the door. "What a truly brilliant deduction that will be treasured for decades to come." I ignored his sarcasm, marching up to the white and blue colt standing by the door. I was a fair bit taller than him, so I had to look down.
"G'day," I greeted with my usual mannerism, "I understand that you have the keys to this place and everything else we need to know?" The stallion nodded, turned his head, and reached into his saddlebag with his mouth. Upon leaving the bag, there was a clipboard with a hole in the bottom that held the keys. The clipboard itself had several pieces of paper attached that most likely listed what Celestia wanted us to do. It had also been in the guy's mouth, so, blegh. I gingerly took it, avoiding what looked like wet bits.
"Certainly is, sir," he replied cheerily. "Do's, Don'ts, and everything inbetween. Also, unlisted is that some of the doorways might end up knocking you on the head, now that I find how tall you all are..."
"Don't worry," Maya grinned. "Face is easier to flirt with when he's taken a good knock to the head." Once again, my face heated up and the stallion laughed.
"Alright, if you say so," he replied, before turning away towards Ponyville. "I would give you a tour, but unfortunately I'm required to catch the early train to Canterlot due to line maintenance at 2 o' clock, so that's it from me. If you have any questions, just message the Princess."
"Gottit," I called after him as he left. "Cheers, fella!" Once he was out of earshot, I looked at Maya with a mix between a glare and genuine interest in her offer. I don't know which one. "Really? I'm easier to flirt with when I have a concussion?" I asked flatly.
"Yep," she smirked, "After that fall, you opened your eyes a few times and said I was a 'goddess', so I'd say the feeling goes both ways."
"As much as I'm sure you'd both like to see each other naked," Schwaiger interrupted as he unlocked the door, "I feel as though I want to go inside and get some real rest before tomorrow. The Princess did mention she had jobs for us."
"That she did," I replied, trying to wipe away the mental image of Maya in her underwear. "It's best that we do go inside, and...to seperate rooms. Like, where Maya can't come into mine. Because I'll be asleep. And, y'know, as nice as company would be-"
"Ja, ja, we get it," Schwaiger cut me off again, pushing the doors open. "Now, I think it would be best if we got rooms on the top floor in case any of those Cyborgs come from the forest."
And as if on cue, there was a knock on the doors behind us.