//------------------------------// // Fixing The Fracture: Part 1! // Story: Equestria Fighter(revised) // by GenerousGhibli //------------------------------// Light filtered in through train tracks occupying the bridge she was sleeping under, as her eyes fluttered open to meet the day. With a slight groan, she stretched against the concrete column she had slept against, feeling the cool stone against her back. She was warm, despite the horribly cold weather. She suspected the cloak was responsible. She’d tried several times to get the cursed garment off, but to no avail. She had, however succeed in pulling back one of the sleeves to her elbow. It was fused to the rest of her, like some kind of parasite. “Good morning, Miss Pie.” Pinkie stopped moving completely. “W-who said that?” she asked, casting her eyes around the area. “The cloak. You act as though you don‘t have sentient clothes in Equestria. Odd.” “Sentient?” Her jaw dropped. “You’re a living jacket?” “Cloak. And, you may want to keep it down. Other ponies don’t hear me. Just, think whatever you want to ask, alright?” “O-” (Okay, how’s this?) the mare asked, standing up and finishing her stretch. “Much better. Now, we have a LOT of work to do,” the cloak said, and suddenly, Pinkie found herself walking forward. (Whoa hold on! What work?) she asked, doing her best to force her legs to stop. They only slowed down a bit. “Miss Pie, you’ve got problems, and it’s my job to fix them. So let’s just get this over with.” (Maybe I don’t want to?) Pinkie offered, happily noting that the cloak had stopped moving her. “Well, we’re going to have problems, aren’t we?” The cloak crossed Pinkie’s arms against her will. “Look, it’s my job to fix you. I’m supposed to do whatever it takes to do that. You should know, that does entail me physically harming you.” (Uh, y-you wouldn’t do that, right?) It felt like the cloak sighed, and uncrossed Pinkie’s arms, only to put them against her flanks. “I most certainly would. My host before Slick Slopes, Nimbus Crush, was afraid of flying. As such, he couldn’t help his marefriend. You know what I did?” (You didn’t…) “I broke his arms and legs. Made him fly to the hospital.” the cloak said, and took a step forward. (Wait! I’ll cooperate, but I want control of my body,) she said, praying it would agree. “Hm. Alright. But if you start rebelling, I’m taking over.” it said, and Pinkie felt her body loosen back up, as she regained control. “First thing’s first.” (And that would be?) “Getting you armed and protected.” (Like, what, am I gonna carry around a sword or something?) Pinkie said, and started walking forward. “Depends. You don’t have much experience with swords, so I think a gun would be better,” Cloak answered as they emerged from under the bridge. “Turn right. There’s a pawn shop nearby that Slick used to frequent. Atrocious place, owned by scum.” (What was Slick’s problem?) she asked, following the garment’s direction. (Wait, how the heck do you know I’m not used to swords?) “I’m in your head, Pinkie. And Slick was addicted to a shamefully legal substance called Sickle. It makes the user insane, and causes unbearable pain during withdrawals.” (I’m afraid to ask how you helped him.) “You should be. It was decidedly more cruel that what I did to Nimbus. Turn left.” Pinkie complied, heading down a street with a number of unsavory looking types crowding the streets. “During one of Slick’s episodes, he butchered his wife because she wouldn’t let him leave the house. He had security cameras, so-” (You made him watch it, didn’t you? That’s a little much, isn’t it?) “I made him watch it thirty-two times. Perhaps… it was a tad excessive,” the cloak admitted, causing Pinkie to smile. (I bet you feel pretty guilty about it, huh?) the pink mare said with a warm mental smile. “Third door on the right. I feel… something. I don’t know if it’s guilt, or pride. I was never taught the difference.” Pinkie came to a building with barred windows and a motorcycle chained up outside. (Well, does it make you feel bad, or good?) she asked as she walked through the front door. “Bad. It makes me feel very, very bad.” (Well, then when we get back, I’ll apologize for you. Now, we have a problem. I know next to nothing about guns,) she said with a mental shrug. “Don’t worry, I will help you. Walk up to that fellow with the eye patch. Whatever you do, don’t call him patches. Tell him, ‘I want Slick’s bundle.’” Pinkie stepped up in front of a very large stallion with a right side eye patch, and nervously looked him in the face. “Um… Hi?” “What can I get for ya, lil’ lady?” he asked with a smile, easing Pinkie’s nerves a bit. “I’m here for, uh, Slick’s bundle?” she said, making the pony’s face fall. “Pass word?” “Ckicken fried turkey butt.” (Are… you kidding me?) “No.” Pinkie let lose an exasperated sigh, and leaned against the counter on one elbow. With as straight of a face as she could manage, she looked the clerk in the eye and said in a gruff voice, “Chicken fried turkey butt.” She felt her face turn red as the cloak and the clerk both burst into hysterical laughter. (What? Why are you laughing?) “Because, you seemed so damn serious! I’ve never seen anyone say something like that without dying of laughter!” the cloak said, calming down a bit. “Okay, okay, let me grab it for ya. I can’t believe how cool that was.” The clerk turned and went into a room behind him, and came out with a bag, and a sword. “It’s got everything ya need. Two pistols, chambered in .22Lr, with a double holster, twelve cases of ammo, a gas mask, extra filters, a pocket knife, and of course, the wakizashi.” “H-how much do I owe you?” Pinkie asked shakily. She didn’t have any money on her, so how could she pay for it? “Nothing, lil’ lady. If Slick sent ya, then it’s on the house. Now scoot on outta here.” A smile spread across the mare’s face. “Thank you!” she said, before running out of the store. (Well, Cloakie, That was easy. Where to next?) “Now, we start on your recovery. We head to Sister Lulamoon’s orphanage.” “I recognize that name,” Pinkie said, realizing afterwards that she’d said it out loud. (Crap.) “Don’t worry, You’ll get used to it.” >X< Pinkie Pie, now clad in all her new gear, save for the mask, made her way down Derelict Avenue- yeah that’s the actual name- towards a run down orphanage at the end of the street. The sign hung crooked on it, and the roof looked as though it was ready to collapse under it’s own weight. There was a massive hole in the side, with a blackened rim, as though it had been burnt away, and the front door was cut clean in two. (Cloakie, what is this place?) “This is an orphanage, run by the benevolent and generous Sister Bellatrix Lulamoon,” the article explained, reaching up to grasp the wakizashi on her back. (HEY! What the hell are you doing? Don’t tell me you plan on slaughtering orphans to fix me?!) “No. Somepony’s been here, or is in there now,” Cloakie said, wrapping Pinkie’s fingers around the hilt of the small sword. “Draw your damn sword, Pinkie.” Pinkie stared at the building in disbelief, as a pair of glowing green eyes appeared in the space where half of the door was missing. (I think it’s safe to say that they’re still there.) “Odd. Those look like Lycan eyes. I don’t remember the Sister tak-” Cloakie was cut off as a shaggy green form came barreling out of the door, howling like a wolf. “Draw Pinkie! Do it Now!” the garment commanded, trying to force her to obey. “I can’t! it’s a foal!” she shouted out loud, as the beast tackled her, and promptly sniffing her all over. When it was satisfied that she was no threat, the Lycan sat back on Pinkie’s barrel, letting their tongue loll out, and panted at her with a smile. “Emmie! Bad girl!” came a sharp voice that Pinkie recognized immediately as the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon. The beast was suddenly pulled off of Pinkie, and she got her first look at the mare who had ‘rescued’ her. She wore a plain white shirt, and a pair of black jeans that reached just below her hocks. Her mane was tied back with a bandanna, and around her neck was what appeared to be a rosary, with a blackened steel Alicorn at the center, and a crescent moon as it’s main ornament. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who she worshiped. “I’m so sorry, she can be quite a handful this time of month… full moon and such,” the light blue mare said, dragging the Lycan away. “Um… it’s alright, I’ve dealt with Lycan’s before. Though, the last one tried to kill me,” Pinkie replied, standing and dusting off her cloak. “Really? How did that happen?” the mare asked, her eyes growing wide. “My wife is an animal trainer and a vet. I’ve seen all kinds of creatures,” Pinkie replied, walking up and kneeling in front of the Lycan filly. “I learned a lot about exotic species from her, especially ones of supernatural origin.” “My, that sounds exciting! Wait…” The Sister finally took note of Pinkies sword, and her black coat. “You… You’re a monster hunter, aren’t you?!” she hollered, pulling her Lycan ward behind her. “No! I swear I-” “Prove it!” she all but screamed, drawing a small dagger from behind her back, prompting pinkie to fall backwards from her crouched position, as she took her fighting stance. “Roma sends his regards.” “Roma sends his regards!” she shouted, causing the Sister to drop her dagger and run over to Pinkie, and help her up. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t expecting an emissary for another few weeks. Please, come in to the orphanage,” the mare said, guiding the so called ‘emissary’ into the aforementioned facility. >X< Pinkie Pie had never seen so many orphans, of so many different species, in one place. There were seventeen of them, all staring down the pink mare with suspicion in their eyes, as she sat at the end of a long mahogany table. Sister Lulamoon scurried around the room, passing out bowls, spoons, and napkins. When she went to place a bowl in front of Pinkie, she raised her hands and shook her head in refusal. Lulamoon raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and took the bowl back to the cabinet from which she took it. Another Sister came in, carrying a large pot, and began dipping gruel into each bowl with a spoon. “Are you sure you don’t want any, Ma’am? It’s only a few days old,” the first Sister asked, leaning against the wall next to Pinkie. “Thank you, Sister Lulamoon, But I don’t want to burden you.” “Pish posh dearie! Our Lady and Savior would be ashamed if we did not aid a hungry emissary of her former consort!” the second nun said, carefully sitting the pot down on the table. “Can we at least get a name from you?” “My name is Pinkie,” she said, her mane starting to deflate a little. She didn’t like where things were going at this rate. “And, I’m not… actually… “ “Don’t say it! “Roma’s emissary. As a matter of fact, the last time I saw him, I got in his face and told him I hated him for shooting my wife in her wing,” she explained, watching as the mares’ faces drooped in disappointment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you, but this-” “Hush child.” Pinkie clamped her mouth shut, as Sister Lulamoon stepped forward, and slammed a hand on the table, and glared into the pink mare’s eyes for a moment. All of the foals had stopped eating and were watching with bated breath as their guardian stared her down. “And you promise you aren’t a monster hunter?” she said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm,” Pinkie mumbled, her mane now completely flat. “You’d swear on the Lunar Tomes?” “I have no idea what those are,” Pinkie deadpanned, earning shocked looks from all of the gathered orphans and the two sisters. “You must be agnostic,” the second Sister observed. “Nope, I’ve just never heard of these Lunar Tomes. What are they?” “Come, child. I see why our Savior sent you to us. You need enlightenment, at the hands of the Lunar Sisterhood,” Sister Lulamoon said, and took Pinkies hand, before leading her away into another room. “Sister Lulamoon, can’t you just tell me what these Tome thingies are?” Pinkie asked, planting her hooves firmly on the floor, and stopping the mare from dragging her any further. The nun sighed and turned to Pinkie. “Call me Bella,” she said coldly, and gestured over to a bench. “I’m sorry for being so pushy. I was hoping I had found somepony I could guide into the glory of Luna’s Radiance.” “It’s alright, Bella. Just, tell me what the Tomes are.” Bella sat down, noting that her guest did not follow. “The Lunar Tomes are sacred scriptures, that tell of all the Lunar Goddess’s feats, big and small, important or insignificant. They also detail her moral teachings, and we in the Lunar Sisterhood take those teachings as law, and live our lives by them. Surely, you understand what it would mean to swear upon them?” “Yeah. We’ve got something back home called a Pinkie Pie promise, and nopony ever breaks one of those. Though, I guess it would seem a little silly for somepony as serious as you Sisters,” Pinkie said, crouching in front of the Lunar Nun. Bella seemed to frown at the statement. “We aren’t that serious… all the time.” “Oh please, look at what you’re wearing! Does being a Lunar Sister mean you have to dress like that?” Pinkie asked, earning a head shake from Bella. “You know what I’m wearing under this cloak? Pink overalls. Pink bucking overalls. And in a few hours, I’ll probably be fighting for my life, so what’s your excuse?” “I have none.” “Pinkie.” (I’m busy Cloakie,) she scolded. “So brighten up, Bella, ther-” “The Phoenix guard is closing in on the orphanage,” the cloak said, cutting the party mare off. “Bella, what is the phoenix guard?” she asked, causing the mare’s eyes to grow wide. “General Felix…” she whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks. “You have to get out of here! General Felix is a pig, he’ll force himself onto you, and if you refuse, he’ll kill you!” “Wait, this Felix guy molests you, and you just… let him?” Pinkie stared at the Sister in shock. “There were once many Sisters in this building, until he came along,” she said solemnly, standing and facing the door. “I cannot fight. I have sworn only to fight to protect the orphans, not myself.” “Then I’ll fight for you.” “That is a VERY bad idea,” the cloak stated, crossing Pinkie’s arms. “You have no experience with that sword of yours, and you haven’t a clue how to operate your guns.” (But I’m willing to bet you do. Besides, how broken would I be if you forced me to stand aside and let this wonderful mare to be raped?) “… I hate you so much right now.” (So you’ll help?) Pinkie asked, smiling despite herself, as her mane poofed back up. “I suppose,” the Cloak conceded, and Pinkie felt it take hold of her body. “You owe me for this one, Pinkie.” “Name it,” she said out loud, causing the Sister to give her a confused stare. “You suck at keeping your thoughts in,” the Cloak teased, giving a mental smile. “I like getting dry cleaned. After I fix your problems, I want a good, expensive dry cleaning.” (Deal,) she said, smiling. “Bella, wait here.” “Please don’t! He’ll kill you!” she hollered, and reached forward to grab her guest, her eyes widening when she only grasped thin air. >X< Pinkie suddenly appeared outside the orphanage in a mass of swirling black tendrils, reaching for her sword, and the gas mask that hung on her waist. She could feel the cloak’s power, surging all along her body, preparing to fight. It has done this before, she thought… it has… killed before… “Yes, many times.” The mask came over her face as she scowled fiercely in her mind. She’d given the garment complete control over her body, including her face. “But then, so have you, haven’t you?” Pinkie’s mental eyes widened. (Shut up. You don’t understand, so shut up.) “You could have had a foal… bu-” (I SAID SHUT UP!!!) A vehicle, probably carrying troops, rolled down the road, coming to a halt about twenty yards from Pinkie. “But I do understand. Your father would have been so disappointed, wouldn’t he?” (SHUT THE BUCK UP. You don’t understand. You can’t understand. You’ll never understand.) “What makes you think that, Pinkie? I spent all of last night invading your mind, finding every little piece of pain I could get my hands on. There’s nothing you can hide from me.” (SHUT. THE. BUCK. UP!!! Just because you know all about me, doesn’t mean you know me.) A number of griffins began piling out of the back of the truck, thirty, in total. They all had weapons: assault rifles, pistols, swords, everything. And the cloak was going to deal with them. “You killed her, Pinkie. You didn’t need your fancy part-” “I SAID SHUT MMMM!!!” “Looks like I need to keep a tighter grip.” One of the soldiers walked forward, standing tall over Pinkie. “Interesting gear you’ve got, citizen,” he said calmly, as Pinkie’s arm pulled up, drawing the Wakizashi. “Be a smart mare, and hand it a-” The soldier was cut off by a loud thump, as his head fell from his shoulders. “As I was saying, you didn’t need your fancy party cannon to do it, and you didn’t need magic, or medicine.” (No…) she whimpered in her mind, as the rest of the griffins circled around her. Pointing weapons at her. “All.” (Please…) “Ready!” one of the soldiers yelled, followed by a series of clicks, as they deactivated their guns’ safeties. “It.” (No,) she said sternly, as her eyes began to water. “Took.” (I’m asking you, please?) “Was a…” Tears now flowed freely from the pink mare’s eyes, and her breath became ragged, but she did not wail, for the cloak had her mouth in its control. Her sadness turned suddenly to anger, and her mane now completely deflated. (I. Said…) “Aim!” “bottle of bleach…” “MmmmrrRRAAHHH NOOOOOO!!!” she screamed, gaining control of her mouth, to the cloak’s shock. The soldiers all stared at her in silence, their fingers trembling over their triggers, too scared to move. The mare’s shoulders heaved, and she took a step forward towards one of the griffins. “Pinkie, stop! How… how are you doing this?! I have control! You sho-” “I said… shut… UP.” The cloak physically recoiled at her tone, loosening its bond to the Equestrian’s skin. “You are mine, jacket, and I WILL control you. Is that clear?” “No! That is how this work-” “Is. That. CLEAR?” she said harshly, gritting her teeth, as one of her eyes flooded from a burst vessel. It obviously took a lot of effort to maintain her dominance. It was so difficult in fact, that as she took a second step, her nose began bleeding beneath her mask. Another step, and one of her teeth chipped, sending the tiny shard stabbing into her lip. “Yes! They’re going to kill you!” “Give me your power…” she growled, and took another step forward. She was only a meter way from the griffin. Her other eye burst into red, as she growled in agony. “Fine! You’ve got access to everything, all of my powers, my knowledge! Please Pinkie! They are going to kill us!” “No. They aren’t.” >X< The soldier was scared, to be sure. This pink mare had decapitated one of his comrades, and was now moving towards him. Perhaps she was the fabled Octavia, the last vampony sired by Roma the Monstrous? Her build would indicate that she was of an appropriate age. And her eyes were turning red. He had read about that somewhere. If this was Octavia, the one they called the Ravager, then they were all doomed. He was no fool. He had heard the stories. He had seen the aftermath. Hundreds of corpses littering the street, a few hanging from power lines, one skewered onto a lamp post… it was nightmarish. The last survivor, who died a few minutes after giving his report, had claimed that she had been everywhere. He told of how you could train your sights on her, and then she was gone, only to reappear behind you. Buck, she was coming after him. Oh BUCK! She was coming after him!!! The soldier, who had seen many gruesome things in his life, was terrified. The soldier, who had single-handedly gunned an entire family of six to death, was ready to piss himself. The soldier, who had set fire to a hospital after sealing all the exits, and watched the sick burn to death, was trembling on his paws. The soldier, who many could only call a monster, was terrified of a pink pony that didn’t come up to his neck. As the griffin stood trembling, the mare said something that made the fluids in his bladder release into his trousers. “No. They aren’t.” And then, she vanished, reappearing behind a soldier across from him, and drove her sword into his heart from behind. And then she was gone again. A bang to his left made him look to see her standing with her gun pointed out, and a body falling away from said gun. And she vanished again, appearing between two soldiers to his right, with one arm extending a gun left soldiers head, and her sword against the right’s throat. The blade was held back handed, with the edge facing backwards. Those soldiers were frightened too. But not for long, as the mare shot the left one’s head, and pulled back sharply against the right one’s throat, cutting it wide open. The vile soldier, who had done so many horrible things, had never see something so horrible in his life. He watched as one by one, she dispatched all of ten soldiers, in increasingly creative ways. Suddenly one came falling to the ground with a horrified scream, slamming down head first, briefly followed by his detached wings. Another soldier crushed by a falling truck- THEIR truck, and this was the final straw. The soldiers scattered, forming a few tightly knit groups, and began waiving their guns around, shouting for the mare to show herself. He did not join of these groups. Instead, he dropped his gun, and fell to all fours, preparing to sprint towards the half-door of the orphanage. The mare appeared above one of the groups, falling into their midst with her sword spinning in a circle around her. He took his chance, and launched from his position, only slowed a little by his wet pants. As he closed the gap between him and the door, he saw a small round object impact the wall beside it. He recognized The General’s beak sticking out of the new hole. With a grimace, he leapt through the space where the door had been cut in half. >X< Pinkie stood in the street, surrounded by bodies. Cold, unmoving corpses, and she was horrified. She’d done this. She’d slaughtered thirty griffin soldiers in a matter of minutes. “Hey!” The pink mare slowly turned her head to the right, where she saw Sister Lulamoon held at gunpoint by one of the soldiers. The Sister was crying. Sister Lulamoon was crying, and this soldier had a gun to her head. Pinkie’s face twisted in rage, and her mane did something it never did before. It changed color. Black streaks began cascading through her blood stained fuchsia locks, giving her a look that would make most mane stylists jealous. She was angry, and she was sad, and she was emotionless, all at once. She vanished from the griffin’s sight, and reappeared beside him, with her gun to his head. “You should have died like the rest of them.” That was all he heard before a thunderclap ended his life. >X< Sister Cake stood outside the bathroom door, listening as their guest shouted to herself on the other side. She had no idea what was going on, and she didn’t really care to know. It seemed like this always happened when her Lady’s former consort was concerned. That vampony always had something crazy going on around him, and she had to be honest, she was sick of it. A loud crash sounded from the other side of the door, and her eyes widened. “Miss Pinkie? Was that the shrine?” “NO! it was the SINK!” the mare screamed back, followed by what sounded like sobbing. What on Equinus was that mare doing in there? >X< “What happened Cloakie? Why did I kill all those griffins?!” “No, it-it wasn’t you! It was me!” He shuddered at the face his wearer made. “Don’t bucking lie to me You STUPID SCRAP OF CLOTH!!! That wasn’t you, it was all me! I know what happened, I was in control the whole time!” she screamed, slamming her fist down onto the sink, and breaking it in two. One of the sisters shouted outside the bathroom. “No! it was the SINK!” Pinkie let herself fall back and slide down the wall, and promptly sob into her knees. “Cloakie, what really happened?” The dark garment gave a mental sigh. “I was created by Discord, about a hundred years ago, using dark magic. That’s what I possess, darkness, on a number of levels. Mental, mystical, and probably a couple of other places too. When Discord agreed to make me for Roma, he warned my former host, not to fight me.” The cloak paused for a moment, having noticed that Pinkie was no longer crying. “See, when Queen Celestia died, it sent our dark friend on a spiraling path towards insanity. I was made to counter this. After losing so much, and watching so many of his brothers perish at the hands of Tirek, he was broken. He needed a push to fix himself.” “Like me?” “Worse, Pinkie. So, so much worse. But, just like you, he fought my control, refusing to visit the Queen’s grave, refusing to acknowledge that he had failed, and certainly refusing to move past it. He gained need of my powers one day, when facing my creator in combat. He did exactly the same thing you did. The fight lasted for hours, and Roma was flooded with my dark magic by the second. It eventually filled his entire body, nullifying the majority of his vampire abilities, particularly his ability to control blood. I don’t think that will ever come back to him.” “Cloakie, how come I can break free?” she asked, feeling her eyes getting heavy. Her escapade had tired her out more than she though. “It’s your will. Somehow, for some ungodly reason, it’s even stronger than Roma’s. He… Pinkie?” The cloak was answered by a light snore, signifying that its… its mistress was asleep. That was going to take some getting used to. The cloak had never had a true master before. Not even Roma the Desperate was considered his master. In the cloak’s mind, it smiled. As bad as it felt about what it was doing to her, this mare was genuinely cute. “Sleep tight, Miss Pie. You've earned it.”