Stand tall for the beast of America.
Lay down like a naked dead body.
Keep it real for the people working overtime.
They can't stay living off the governments dime.
Kickback wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there in the same spot with his sister, just watching whatever she felt was worth watching at this time of night. At least, that's how she put it. There was something off about the whole thing though. Something he could barely put his finger on. While the night rolled on, Slip would laugh, cringe or groan respectively in reaction to what she was seeing on the blaring screen. This didn't strike him as odd, at all except for the fact that he just didn't...react to anything. Was he always like this? Stoic all the time. No, no, there was something else there. While he watched or stared, rather, his senses, his instincts picked up on the humor and his mind followed through with the reasonable notion of laughing. He just didn't. He just didn't feel compelled to show emotion.
That changed when his sister picked up on it.
"C'mon, I know you thought that was hilarious." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Crack a smile, you zombie. Jeez."
Then he felt compelled. Not because the inhibition was gone but because his sister had made a comment about it. From that point on, he willed himself to react accordingly to whatever they watched. Kickback didn't like the fact that it took time and a bit of practice before Slip stopped giving him weird looks at his over-the-top laughing fits.
"Okay, I get it. Don't be a dick."
He turned and made to make a quick apology but was cut-off by her speaking up again.
"Oh. Well, would'ya look at whose callin'." Slip Stream grinned coyly and tapped twice on her phone. Kick just eyed her curiously. She held the speakers at the bottom of the device close to her lips and leaned in. "Hello~?"
"YOU THERE, YOU GRUMPY SACK-O'-SHIT?!"
Everything about the scratchy voice screaming over the feedback of screeching static flowing from the tiny black rectangle sent Kickback's senses into dethcon one. Whoever's voice it was, it was horribly familiar. The same white flashes danced across his vision. His eyes dilated to the size of pinpricks, his ears felt like they were bleeding and oh, sweet Mother Teresa on the hood of a Mercedez Benz, did his head pound like a bitch. In his mind's eye, he was assaulted by jumbled visions of porcelain skin, striking blue spikes and shiny magenta eyes, all to the steady beat of a slow 'wub-wub' sound.
This was the second time this had happened. Another thing to stack onto the weird bullshit that was going on tonight. Just what the Hell is happening to me?.
All the while, Slip just grimaced at the sight of him. "Yeah, he's here...just being a fuckin' weirdo."
"More than usual?" There was underlying sound coming out of the speaker that he just couldn't place. He chalked it up to just miscellaneous white noise in the background. Even though he sensed some form of rhythm to it. Music, he guessed.
"Oh, no, the usual level. Just...in a different way."
Kickback didn't quite know how to respond.
"Well? Aren'tcha gonna say 'hi' to your best buddy in the whole-wide world, you asshole?" Said the oh-so-too-innocent-sounding tone over the phone.
"...Hi?"
"There ya go! So, Slip tells me you have amnesia."
How could she possibly-"What?"
Slip pursed her lips pretentiously. "Who do you think I've been talking to all night?"
"...I thought we were talking?"
"That's what you call this!?" At that, he shied away.
"Heh. Maybe he forgot what texting is." Just like that, another wave of memories flooded back into his mind. Despite wanting to regain all of them back, he really could've done without that particular one. He let out an audible groan as the headache simmered down again. "Anyway, you still remember me, right, Kick?"
Apparently, he did. "Uhh...Y-yeah, Vinyl."
That got the voice to take on a smug tone. "Yeah. I am pretty unforgettable."
Vinyl Scratch breathed heavily onto her clenched fist and rubbed it against her chest, grinning all the while. She reclined back in the chair and lazily pushed the bottom of her foot against the edge of her desk, casually reaching over to her laptop and pressing the skip button on her current playlist. "You two should totally come over tomorrow." She said, idly watching her unpainted fingernails.
"Oh, I dunno, Vinyl. I'm kinda busy but I'm sure big brother here would just be delighted to see you." The teasing in Slip's voice wasn't lost on the DJ.
"...Busy with what?" She head Kickback ask.
"Shut up and watch me get you laid, bro."
"Alright, shut your face now, Ellen." Vinyl chuckled. "I'm not fussy. Seriously, I got fuck-all happenin'."
"Sweet. He'll be there by noon."
"...Wait, wha-"
"Bye, Vinyl!"
"Hold on, Sli-"
The little red-skinned girl didn't even let her friend finish before tossing her phone to the coffee table in the centre of the room. "Well, looks like you got a date, brother." The low and stoic glare that he gave her did nothing but widen the shit-eating grin plastered on her features.
"...Are you actually busy tomorrow?"
Slip blew through her lips like a horse. "Man, you do have amnesia." Leaning her head on a hand while resting her elbow on the armrest to her left, she continued. "I start work down at the tech shop tomorrow."
"Oh." He muttered. Something dawned on him then as he gave a quick glance to the clock above the TV. "Shouldn't you...Not be awake now, then?"
"Pssh." She let out, slowly turning to follow his line-of-sight with a half-lidded gaze. A second went by. Then two seconds. Kickback watched her features drop in sudden realization. "Shit!" She bolted upright and dashed for the stairs faster than he could register. He only briefly caught sight of her right foot disappearing into the upper floor before she was gone. Kickback let out a sigh and turned back to recline in his chair but before he could get comfortable, he felt two thin arms wrap themselves forcibly around him in a tight embrace. His eyes bulged in surprise. "G'night, man!"
Just like that, she was off again. Leaving him breathless, confused and...oddly content, even letting a tiny smile worm it's way onto his face. Which is more than what he could remember doing as a sign of happiness.
It didn't last very long.
Kickback looked down at his arm, remembering what had happened tonight. He tensed the muscles in his forearm, clenching his hand into a tight fist. His veins bulged from beneath his skin as his fingernails came close to cutting tears into the flesh of his palm and much to his shock, just faintly, he could make out the same glowing red and silky black tendrils swarm out from beneath the surface of his skin before writhing in a mass of dark hues and seeping back into his hand, as if nothing had happened. It only lasted a second but he saw it. He felt it. Some part of his brain told him that he made it.
Kickback was home and things would never be the same again. He would never be the same again.
Letting out a sigh. He arched his neck, sinking his head further into the chair and closing his eyes to sleep. Unmoving. Not even noticing that while he sat there, ready for whatever dreamy embrace was about to take him, he didn't breath. Not once. Yet, he still remained there, alive as ever, just waiting for his mind to wind down into darkness.
It was snowing that night. Not like he cared. He didn't really feel affected by weather anymore. The flakes of ivory fluttered gently onto his dark form, practically disintegrating on contact as the heat radiating from his body melting the soft descending frozen specks. No one ever looked up. Especially at night. The moon shone brightly behind him and through the contrast of his silhouette, one could make out the piercing, bright red shade of his narrowing eyes. Perched high above the ground, he stood there, ever-vigilant. The scene below reminded him of a swarm of cockroaches desperately scurrying away from the light. They might as well have been. Vermin were still vermin, regardless of what they looked like. His nostrils flared, he could smell the blood coursing through their veins. Hear their bones creak and pop as they moved. Shuffling cargo in and out from a truck into a warehouse. Not long had he been staking this place out and already, he was reeling in fish.
Kickback's mouth stretched into a sharp grin at that, he almost let out a chuckle at that comparison. It was so fitting.
He had recently...acquired knowledge of an arms shipment being moved here. It was what was to be expected. More than a dozen shady cut-throats all working busy in the shadows, nothing but greed clouding their minds. If he had been anything like he once had been, he would've flinched in disgust as he watched a man, apolice officer come into the scene, talk with one of the same scum shuffling crates of guns around and then watch the bastard hand the cop a thick roll of cash. Smiling at eachother the whole while. When they both turned around to watch the others at work, Kickback grew tired of watching.
In the night's embrace, no one even noticed one of the workers being dragged by a shadowy figure into the darkness of a nearby alleyway by a barrage of overlapping whips, strangling and muffling him before disappearing and thanks to that, no one noticed the same man walk out with a particular piercing glare etched in his gaze. No one gave him a second glance as he walked up to the truck but before anyone could notice that he was, in fact, making a beeline for the cop and the con next to him, it was too late.
"Ya know. Af'er dis job. I reckon we outta take it easeh."
"Heh. You want to take it easy?"
"Yeah, man. Take some time to relax, spend the moneh we've made, live it up a litt-"
That would be the last thing the con ever said. Right before he could finish, he felt something grab harshly at the back of his head. The surprise of it all stunned him as he felt fingers digging into his scalp. The last thing his eyes could register was the metal sheeting of the truck's trailer before his brain crushed under the force of impact that shattered his skull. Blood painted the cold steel and splattered the snowy pavement.
By now, the whole crew had reached for their guns. The killer didn't miss a single beat and dashed for the cop. Hooking his arm tightly around his neck, he reached into his side and pulled out a nine millimetre pistol. His eyes locked onto the first one to draw out his weapon and without a second thought, the killer aimed, pulled the trigger, letting out a brief bang as the hammer hit the shell and watched the bullet go straight through his chest and stopped dead in his heart.
He heard another shot. He didn't feel a thing but he did hear the cop in his grip let out a choked groan of pain. He spotted blood trickling out of the officer's side. Not like it mattered. The rogue focused in on the man that fired and put a piece of lead straight his brain.
That's when one of the fucks got lucky.
Before he knew it, a gaping, bloody hole was made in the side of his head. He could feel the impact blow up half his head while the bullet was left buried in the middle of his cranium. He could almost taste the amount of triumph the criminal who got him was feeling in that moment. Time to be the bringer of disappointment. Among other things starting with 'D'.
Kickback felt it was time to unveil the curtain.
Slowly, he turned his head. He watched the glee from the man drop from his features as he stared into the only eye left in his face. If anything, all he did was provide the tissue inside his crown a nice breeze. Kickback felt his mass begin to shift in his form and in the blink of an eye, he started to change. From his the toes of his shoes, from the tips of his fingers, swarmed great, writhing masses of chaotic tendrils. In a jumbled atrocity of red and black, they lapped at the surface of his body, transforming his image. His eyes morphed into a set of faded, grey jeans. His arms were wrapped in a binding grip of patterned ebony leather and lastly came his head. Tendrils folded over the wound, reforging his face and overlapping over his head to form a simple, dark grey hood. The final thing to take form were his eyes, they glowed crimson with disdain as he watched the same con shakily point his gun at him.
"W-what the fuck are you!?
"Oh, shit..." Kickback's glare snapped to another one off to the side. "It's him."
"Who?!"
Kickback didn't give them the chance. Raising the cop's gun, he popped the same man's knee out from under him. He collapsed in a scream of pain. Whoever was left started taking pot-shots at him, he felt the impact of every bullet but what was that to him? Kickback caught one of their gazes and ditched the gun at his head, knocking him out. Turning back to his hostage, he laid stretched his fingers out while keeping them together and roughly jammed his hand into the corrupt officers back. He let out a silent cry of agony, something that didn't last long as he began to violently cough. Kickback released him and gave him a swift kick, knocking him to the ground in a fit. He almost smiled as he watched his own mass swirl in and out of the pig's body.
Taking another shot to the shoulder, Kickback didn't even bother looking in the direction it came from. His legs kicked into gear and he dashed straight to the man that clipped him. As his last few steps cracked the earth beneath his feet, he pulled back and clenched his fist. When he launched it, the con's bottom jaw literally broke away from his skull. His body lay there, limp in the snow.
"Die, you bastard!"
Kickback's hand moved on it's own accord to crush the spiked, wooden baseball bat in mid-swing in his grip, stopping it from hitting the back of his head. His body turned by reflex and his other hand shot out and went straight forward to wrap around the assailant's throat. Reeling back, Kickback tossed his body toward the heaving cop. He watched as three others jumped out from their respective cover-spots and make a dash for him. Idiots.
Just as they crossed him, the officer let out a high-pitched scream as his body was torn apart from the inside. Massive, spike tentacles show from his form, skewering everyone around him. Kickback had to stifled a dark chuckle as the one he threw landed perfectly in time with the eruption of giant, viral thorns, stabbing him straight through his chest from his back. The hooded man had to take a moment to admire his work before the skewers retreated back into the now, very dead officer's body.
And then there was one.
Now, it was only a matter of rounding up everything they unloaded and destroying it all. Surely there'd be explosives in the shipmen-
He ears twitched when he heard wheezing. Spinning himself around, he noticed one left. Ahh, yes. He had only left this one unconscious. Time to fix that.
Propping himself up on his hands and knees, the con looked up. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was the last job. Just one more and then...and then this. When he looked up, he saw him. The reaper. His reaper stalking towards him. His eyes groggily closed and opened again, he was standing above him. He slowly blinked one last time. His arm wasn't an arm anymore, it wasn't anything more than a giant, hulking blade, connected to his body by that red and black stuff. He felt tears well up in his eyes.
"No...no, no. Not me." He begged. "Not me, man!" The face under that hood barely even twitched. "C'mon, man. I got a family." The man began to cry. "Don't do it...don't kill me, please." He closed his eyes and prepped himself for the worst.
"You must have me mistaken." At his deep, piercing voice, the pleading criminal looked back up at the terror.
The last thing he saw right after he turned his neck back up was his reaper's cold gaze as he slashed his blade across it. His head fell off his shoulders and landed in the snow with a dull thud.
Just another night.
That's all Kickback thought as he felt the blood splash against his face, fading in with the red hue of his skin. That's all he thought as he watched the truck burn to in a blinding blaze of smoke and fire in the snowy darkness of the night. What was there left to say? Left to feel? The wind blew against the hem of his jacket as he stood high above the streets, gently watching the ignorant passerbies go about their nightly plans.
He wished one of them could've been her...but it's not like it mattered.
It couldn't be like it used to. Not anymore.
Kickback wasn't too sure as to how long he had just been sitting here with his eyes clenched shut. Surely it hadn't been too-
Footsteps.
Scarlet lids peeled back to reveal contrasting emerald irises at the steady 'thump-thump' sound. Just who was it? It was still in the middle of the night and Slip had only just gone to bed. Kickback's hands balled into fists as the thought of some petty lowlife prowling into their home. He began to stand up when he caught sight of the time. Apparently, he had been doing absolutely jack shit for roughly six hours straight without even noticing. That wasn't the part that got to him. It was the fact that he just wasn't tired. Like, at all. He figured after everything that transpired last night, he'd drop dead faster than a fish in the desert.
"Couldn't sleep?" Kickback's head snapped to his right where he heard the voice call out. There, standing in the kitchen was his sister, idly pouring herself a glass of milk. Well, that answers the question as to who stirred him. She was decked out in a simple white button-up shirt and faded blue jeans. She shook her head at him. "You have a room, you know?"
"Uhh...Yeah. Yeah, I know."
"Just checkin', Wolverine."
"...What?"
"You know, amnesia." She gave him a look that spoke monuments of how much she thought he was an idiot. Honestly, this whole memory-loss thing was starting to get exhausting to Slip Stream. "Anyway. Can I trust you enough to be left alone until you go to Viny-...You don't know where she lives, do you?" Her eyelids sagged as she gave him a level stare.
Kickback scratched at a sudden itch in his arm. "No." Groaning, Slip walked out of sight into the kitchen, returning shortly with a notepad in hand. When she came up to him, holding it out for him to take it, he noticed a message scrawled onto the paper. An address. "Uhhh..." Was all he said as he took it from her.
"Alright. I gotta go."
He didn't react until she reached the door, something occurred to him then. She was leaving. She was going to be away from him. Out of sight. Again. Kickback's whole body shot up off the chair. "Wait!" Slip stopped and turned, giving him a confused look as she slowly opened the door. He just stood there, mouth agape, not quite sure how to follow up. "Will..." He began. "Will you be okay?"
His sister's expression took on one of complete bewilderment, much to his slight embarrassment. Then after a moment, he watched it shift into understanding and then compassion. She gave a brief smile. "Look, Kick'. I don't know what happened to you to play the loving big brother all of a sudden and I'm starting to think I don't care but I'm just going to my new job. If you ask me every time I leave if I'm 'goin' to be alright', we might just have a problem." By now, she was already standing outside the house. "Still. It's cute that you care now." With that, Slip gently shut the door in on her brother. Leaving him alone in the lounge room.
Kickback wasn't sure how to feel about that.
After what felt like hours of just idly standing in the same spot, he managed to put a word to the feeling. Bored. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't tired and he just wasn't interested in anything around the house. He even grew bored of being bored and that's when something new hit him. An urge. It wasn't very strong but he followed it and when he did, he found himself outside. The compelling feeling drove him to move. Nowhere in particular, just move. No one else was around when Kickback idly began to walk along the side of the rode. A stray car would pass by here and there but for the most part, he was still alone. Not once did he look back. There was still nobody in sight when he casually strolled into an alleyway between two tall buildings. That's when the urge stopped.
Kickback didn't try to stop himself when his whole body shifted to the side and his shoulder ended up propping him up on his feet as he leaned into the wall. He could feel it already. The weird wriggling sensation in his arm started back up again. He couldn't see it but it was there, just under his skin, crawling around in his flesh. It scared him. It scared him to think of what it could mean. It already proved to him that it could heal his wounds, just what else could it do for him? To him?
Maybe the urge brought him here to find out.
In the corner of his vision, he noticed something move. His eyes looked up to spot an insect. He couldn't quite remember what they were called, it was those tiny red ones that crawl on your finger. He watched it steadily as it scampered vertically up the wall he leaned on. As he studied the creature, he felt that same writhing in his arm but this time, it was centred around his fingertips and it tingled more than usual. What if-
Footsteps.
"Oh, there you are!" Kickback didn't recognize the voice at all. This was a new voice. Soft, light and feminine. It was new. He didn't like new. "You really need to stop running off so much like that, Dot." Kickback's gaze turned slightly to see a girl walking up to him. No, not up to him, to the bug. Her skin was a pale shade of yellow and the long, curvy locks of her light pink hair danced in the cool breeze of the morning. He watched her put the end of her index finger an inch off the wall. The insect taking notice, it turned on it's axis, crawling down the wall for just a moment before buzzing it's tiny wings, carrying it's frail body over to land on her hand. Kickback was in awe of how she didn't just crush the thing as she lightly brushed her finger over it's chitin. She must've felt his gaze because that's when she turned and caught his eye. Just as she did, she flinched dramatically and shied away.
Kickback didn't know what to say and just stared at her.
"O-oh! I'm s-sorry...I didn't...s-see you there."
Great, now he was being spoken to. A few moments silence reigned between the two as he strained his mind for something to say. He searched and searched through his memory, whatever was left of his knowledge of speaking to other people. He didn't find much. Without anything else, he settled for the first and most intelligent thing he could come up with. "...Uhhh." That wasn't it. Think, you bastard. "He-"
"Well, umm...Bye."
Kickback was once again left in awe of the girl as she sped off in the direction she came in. If he blinked just as she turned, he would've missed her.
Odd lass.
Looking down at his hand again, he slowly balled his fingers into a closed fist and glanced up at the towering structure. There was that urge again. The compelling ache to move. It couldn't hurt to see just what this new thing he had was capable of.
Tentatively, he placed his hand on the wall, feeling the cold, hard concrete against his skin. With his other hand, he reached up and placed it higher on the wall. After only a second, he pushed himself up with his feet. He went much higher than he thought he would but in the end, the force of gravity did it's job and he was pulled back down to the ground. He let out a grunt as he breached for his shoe to hit the pavement...only it never came. Kickback looked up again to find that his fingers were hooked into the wall. His eyes widened, he was literally digging into solid concrete with his hand, just hanging there above the ground by nothing but his sheer strength. He barely felt strained at all.
The ache never went away. Putting his toe to the wall, he pushed himself up again, throwing his opposite hand into the wall and consciously trying to grapple onto it. Just like before, his fingers sank in to the building. Kickback began to steadily crawl up the side of the building, it wasn't until half way up that he noticed the same lapping tendrils swirl around his forearms. His eyes narrowed at that. An idea popped in his head when he gave a particular forceful push with his legs. Then another and another. Soon, he found that he had stopped using his hands and began running alongside, vertically up the building. The feeling was...exhilarating.
He saw the edge of the roof closing in on his view and with a final burst of strength, he kicked himself into the air, overshooting the buildings limits. He hung there, suspended for not by a few seconds by to him, it was an eternity. Kickback dropped, landing with a quick roll on top of the tower and glanced back to the edge, taking a minute to process what had just happened. There was no way he just did that.
The urge still didn't leave. Kickback turned away from the edge and stared down the rows of rooftops ahead of him. He must've walked for hours, this district of Canterlot was anything but suburban. The muscles in his legs tensed and he felt a surge of those tendrils tightened against the surface of his flesh.
He took off, running. It felt good. The wind blowing his long white and black locks back as his feet carried him faster than he knew they could. He jumped off when he reached the end, it was a good long drop to the roof below. It nearly crumpled in beneath him when he landed on impact.
Fuck stopping.
The ache needed to be satisfied. He dashed, sprinting across the skyline. He grinned when he vaulted an upcoming air vent and chuckled as he saw a protruding doorway before practically breaking it down as he kicked it in and flipped over it by the force of his foot.
Fuck exertion.
Kickback hollered when he put all his cards on the table and promptly jumped off the edge of an apartment building and practically flew over the street below to the next rooftop over.
He toppled over and landed hunched, propping himself up on his hand while kneeling, looking back at the distance he just crossed. He began to laugh again as he glanced down at his open palm again. "I don't know what you are..." He breathed, flexing his fingers. "...But you're startin' to grow on me."
Standing up, Kickback walked over to the end of the roof and closed his eyes, wearing a thin smile on his crimson features. Without a thought, he let his body flip over the side and he went down, falling into the alley below.
Fuck fear.
When he opened his eyes again, he twirled his body around. He crashed into the paved ground on his feet with a sharp thud. He didn't waste a moment and took off walking, putting his hands firmly in his pockets. He only just turned the corner when he felt something in them and pulled it out to inspect it but stopped mid-way when he passed a window. Inside, there stood a mannequin of a male frame. Clad in a simple porcelain singlet under a denim, cerulean button-up shirt with black jeans.
The attire wasn't especially attractive or wanting to him but just after a moment of studying it, Kickback felt a wave of writhing mass envelop his body, it was gone just as quickly as it came. When he looked down, he found that he was wearing what the mannequin was. Everything was exactly the same about it and it felt good against his skin. Soft and warm. He had no real keen eye for fashion but it was definitely better than what he was sporting before.
"Hmm. What else can you do, I wonder?" He asked, brushing his hand against his chest. He glanced down at his other arm and found a scrap of paper in his grip. That's when he remembered ripping this off the notepad Slip gave him and taking it with him. He read the message again in his head.
144 Discovery Dr. 12pm.
"...Umm."
"So, I tells 'im! Oatmeal-"
"-Are you crazy! Yes, I know, you've told me this story before. Like, a gazillion times." It might have been literally the most amazing and mind-numbingly stupid yet epic tale of metal and goofiness but everything gets old eventually. Rainbow Dash grinned as she brought her drink up to her lips. It wasn't necessarily her beverage of choice but it was too early for anything else. Plus, she didn't have anything else on her and well, Pinkie offered. When she looked back at the eccentric party-animal, ironically, the first thing she noticed was that she wasn't making cracks in the sidewalk with her constant bouncing, instead she was just walking like an actual, normal person. Rainbow began to worry. "Yo, Pinks. What's eatin' ya?"
At the sound of her name being called, Pinkamena whipped her head back around to see her friend give her a confused look. She blinked rapidly and let a brief skip into her step. "Oh, nothing, Dashie." He replied, not really speaking her mind.
Pinkie Pie was going to pretend she didn't just see Fluttershy across the street.
Rainbow Dash brushed a stray lock of green hair from her face, lowering her gaze to a half-lidded blank stare. "Still pissed at squirrel-girl?"
Pinkie's hair darkened. "Still mad at Jessie, the yodellin' cowgirl?"
The blue-skinned girl growled through her teeth at that. "Touche." She kicked a stray pebble onto the road. "Still, I think you two outta patch it up."
"She asked for a big party, I threw her a big party and what does she do? Flips the crap out at me and doesn't talk to me for a week!" She fumed."I'm not doing anything 'til she apologizes." Rolling her eyes, she added, "So, why don't you make it up with Applejack?"
"That bitch stood me up, that's why! I already told you!" Dash groaned. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Alright." Pinkie grinned suddenly. "Have you let Soarin taste the rainbow yet?"
"...You did not just make that joke." Dash deadpanned.
"Well...?"
"What?"
"Have you?"
"NO!"
"Awww."
"What?"
"You're gonna die a virgin, Dashie."
"I'mma hurt you."
"No, wait!"
"Hurting you now."
"Ow!"
"Ha!" Pinkie pie rubbed the spot on her arm her friend had punched. It wasn't awfully sore but she didn't appreciate being hit. She gave a heavy scowl to the rainbow-haired girl walking by her side. Would it kill her to not be so rough all the time? "Oh, c'mon! I didn't hit you that hard."
"You're a real dyke, Dashie." She snorted. Rainbow just brushed her off. Pinkie opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she saw a familiar face on their path. He stood there, staring at a piece of paper in his hand, looking absolutely lost. Pinkie took a minute to recount where she had seen him. There was no mistaking that hair, she thought it was kind of funny how it looked like a skunk. Of course, she'd never say that, that'd be mean and Pinkie wasn't mean. She was nice and when you're nice, people are nice to you. Except Sunset Shimmer but Pinkie didn't want to start thinking about her right now.
That's when she remembered him. He was one of Cheese's friends. Something starting with 'K', she recalled. Pinkie felt a little sad at that. She was Pinkamena Diane Pie and she couldn't remember something about someone? How unbecoming of her. She needed to fix that. Cheese was her friend and any friend of him was one of hers. Except maybe Trixie.
She frowned a little at that. Lot of 'excepts' happening today. Sometimes, she wished that everyone at Canterlot would all get along. She wished she could like everybody but there were just people there that were just so...unfriendly. What did she really expect? It was a high school and the chances of every single student coming together to be friends was incredibly unlikely.
It was a nice thought though.
"Hey!" She called, much to Dash's confusion as she waved her hand in the air to and fro at the speed of a fighter jet. His head snapped up and his gaze met her's. She swore, if it weren't for that hair, she would've mistaken him for Big Macintosh. Dash rolled her eyes as she skipped up to and walked over to lean against a building off to the side, keeping herself steady with a feet placed firmly against the concrete. Pinkie bounded over to him and stopped at arms length, she gave him a closed mouth smile. He just stared at her, like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. Pinkie waited for him to greet her back for a moment. Then two moments. Three. A full minute went by but she never stopped smiling and he never stopped staring. This was going nowhere. "What's up?"
"...Hey?" Well, there was something.
Pinkie decided to go with her gut. "Looking for someone?"
He didn't say a word, he just looked back at the piece of paper and then to her again. He nodded and showed her what was written on it. An address. She didn't know the house but she knew how to get to the street, which is why when she thought about where they were currently, it confused her greatly. She smiled, regardless and reached into a nearby mailbox. Kickback watched in horror as her hand somehow slid through the narrow slot and popped back out with a map in hand. "Here ya go!"
Kick stared at her as she presented the markings to him. Pulling a pen out from her poofy, pink hair, she scribbled a large black 'X' on the sheet. "That's where you you're goin'." She then drew a line diagonally up and tapped against where she stopped. "And this is where we are."
He nodded. "Which way?"
Pinkie pointed with the marker. That was enough for him. He was about to just run off but then he remembered something. Which was what he felt was a good sign. There was something he had to say. A custom, a phrase. It dawned on him. Kickback looked back at Pinkie and smiled at her. "Thank you."
Pinkie grinned wide at him before he started down the path. She didn't really think anything of it as he turned into an alley instead of strolling down the sidewalk. Whatever, her job was done and maybe she just made a new friend.
It was a sweet gig being a walking plot convenience.