~ 1504.5 Years Ago ~
“Walt, honey, are you sure about this?” Marissa asked, tracing her fingertips down my bare shoulder. “This isn’t a private party with friends; we’re going to be out in public, waiting in lines and everything. All those strangers who’ll judge.”
I shrugged, relishing in the feeling as the breast forms shifted freely on my chest. Neither of us had donned our costumes, as most of the major cosmetics—for me, the adhesives for my breast forms; for her, the green bodypaint—had yet to dry completely. “You can’t say that the thought doesn’t excite you,” I fired back, crossing my arms beneath my ‘breasts’ with a grin directed at my wife in the mirror. “Shantae was your idea, after all. Don’t you wanna put on a show starring your favorite ship?”
She only snorted, her eyebrow cocked at what was undoubtedly a display that gave her conflicting feelings. “Yeah, well,” she sputtered. “Why did you have to order those forms from a fetish site? You look like some kind of titty monster.”
Okay, I can admit that these were a bit overboard. I mean, I didn’t need to get anything as realistic or highly detailed as this, and the fact that they were just a bit larger than Marissa’s Cs was kind of pushing it. Still, once a bit of foundation was applied around the edges, they’d look and behave just like the real thing.
“‘cause you love when your husband has boobs as big as yours?” I said, pivoting on the spot to face her. In this new position, my artificial endowments were firmly squashed against her real ones, and, to my relief, no paint transferred over to my chest. “Paint’s dry; dress-up time.”
“What a shame,” she said in a teasing voice as I slipped past her to grab the bags from the bed. “How will I ever get by now that I’m not comparing breasts with my husband?”
I simply stuck out my tongue at her and threw her the lilac crop top and cut-off jean shorts from her costume bag before delving into my own bag. The moment my fingertips grazed the silky cloth, I knew the seamstress had gone all out. The bottoms came out in two pieces: translucent red silk bellbottoms, and a form-fitting black bikini bottom that clung to my body tight enough to hold the bellbottoms in place, but not so tight as to make the gaffe that hid my bulge apparent. All in all, the simpler of the set-up, and it went on quickly.
The red top was a bit more troublesome. In my defense, it was only because it took me a few minutes to figure out that the loops of transparent red cloth coming off the back were not in fact straps, but the showy little sleevelets that hung off the upper arm. After that, it was a cinch to put on.
I adjusted the top a few times trying to figure out why I had a bit of spillage going until it hit me that our seamstress friend had made it a little tight on purpose. Slipping on the matching red cloth shoes, I turned to Marissa and posed. “I think she did a pretty good job on this,” I said, doing my best attempt at a woman’s voice. “What do you think?”
Marissa shrugged, slipping on her dark green wig and yellow headband. “The boys are certainly going to love you right up until they figure it out,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. It was almost like she was channeling the character herself. The only thing missing from her ensemble was a set of red contacts; everything else—the shirt and pants, the skull earrings, the belt buckle, the ‘staples’ in her leg, even the wig—was spot on. “Perky and looking ready to pop-top at any moment. Yeah, she did a real good job.”
I glanced back at the bag that had my own accoutrements inside. “I know, it’s just a shame I couldn’t find a wig that does this any justice.”
Marissa helped me with the all the jewelry before plopping the wig on my head. “It could always be worse, darling. You could have tried to grow it out naturally” she said, sidling up beside me. One of her arms snaked around my back and under my arm to give one of my falsies a squeeze. Holding up her phone at an angle that the camera caught both of us, she gave me a peck on the cheek. “Long hair like that is a real pain to take care of. Now let’s call my sister and make sure she doesn’t forget to pick up the girls from school.”
“Why not wait a few minutes and enjoy ourselves first.”
~ ~ ~
The lineup for the convention was insane and not just in the figurative sense. For every normal person, I could see three Narutos, the odd Batman and even a few Spartans and Imperial Stormtroopers interspersed throughout the insanity. I can’t even emphasize that word enough here. You could lose your child to a fandom in this crowd, that’s how rowdy it was.
If not for a Buzz Lightyear getting punched out by a Terminator Space Marine over a fake ticket, I might never have been able to stand there straight faced as the most ludicrous, creepy stormtrooper pelvic-thrusted behind me. If he’d been your run of the mill white armor trooper, it wouldn’t have been an issue, and I could have laughed along with it. Instead, this was a fat guy in neon pink armor, and his helmet was shaped alarmingly like Gabe Newell’s face.
Note to self, purge the video from Marissa’s phone before it ends up on YouTube.
That aside, a fetching young lady—at least I think she was a lady—dressed like a stereotypical Japanese schoolgirl was there at the door, ready to take our tickets in exchange for con badges. She was all smiles as she escorted us in, not even blinking as someone else took her spot, and she was more than happy to show us around.
“Welcome to GeneriCon, ladies,” she said, earning a small snicker from my wife. “We have a lot in store this year. In the east showroom, we have the merchant’s corner, where you’re bound to find at least one souvenir. In the west showroom, we have an all-day Q&A with some of our many guest speakers. Every hour it’s someone new, so make sure you pop in from time to time.”
The con attendant grinned, taking in our costumes with a raised eyebrow. “But you two are probably looking forward to the Costume Ball.” She gestured towards a door opposite of the one we’d just come in. “That’s being held in the south hall. Just sign up at the desk outside, and then go on in at five. We have a few surprise judges out and about during the event, so be sure to mingle so that the judges get a good look at you both.”
With that, she was off.
Marissa wasted no time ushering me over to the sign-up desk for the Costume Ball. It was a no brainer signing up for the couple’s competition. Assuming no pros showed up, we were a shoe-in. The attendant taking down names raised an eyebrow when he found out I was a guy, but was otherwise cordial. He even offered a bit of advice: there was a guy in the merchant’s corner who had a number of items that could make for great last minute additions to cosplays.
Since we were looking for souvenirs to take home anyways, we decided that we may as well check him out. It wasn’t that hard to find the guy’s table, either. For whatever reason, the guy did his place up to look like the Happy Mask Shop, and the Merchant looked like the Happy Mask Salesman. Pretty fucking creepy.
“Hello, sir and madam,” the man intoned happily, his back turned to us as he moved some merchandise from boxes onto the shelves behind his table. We could see highly detailed faeries, a bandana embroidered with the infinity sign and some japanese writing. Hell, he even had a chainsword and bolter or two. “Are you perhaps looking for something special?”
I shifted on my spot and subconsciously toyed with my bracelets. “Well, I might be,” I said, looking uneasily to my wife. How had he known before I even spoke? “What do you have?”
The Merchant turned to us, and peered through one of his narrowed eyes. “Yes, I think I have exactly what you are looking for.” He crouched down beneath the table and rooted through a few boxes. After a few minutes spent exchanging awkward glances with Marissa, the Merchant popped up with an illustrious purple wig that came down well past my waist. “I was thinking about making a mask to go with this, but I can see now that it was made for you.”
“Honey, that’s perfect, isn’t it?” I said, extending a finger to stroke one of the bangs. It was silky soft, yet there was some heft to it too. “How much?”
“I could not charge you to make your outfit complete,” he replied, smiling in a way that unnerved me. “All I ask is that, when you put it on, you make the most of it and put on a good show.”
Marissa laughed, slapping me on the back so hard that the falsies on my chest nearly broke free of the tight confines of my top. “Darling, I think he’s saying he wants to see some of your moves.”
I carefully removed my tiara and the clip that put my current wig up into a ponytail, and plucked the cheap failure off of my head. The superior replacement had barely touched my scalp when Mari helped pull it into a ponytail. I slid the tiara back on and waited for her to close the clasp, marking my outfit compete.
After that... darkness.
~ Shantae: Present Day ~
I rushed outside in hopes of finding some sign of Sombra, just one hint of where the bastard was. Nothing could have prepared me for any of what I saw. The relative purity of the place was something I’d already seen from the window, but the atmosphere was something new entirely. The air was light and full of good cheer from the festivities, and the crystal ponies looked happy, even radiant.
In all the time I spent among Sombra’s slaves, I don’t think I ever saw a crystal pony look so shiny. It was true that the crystal ponies I’d lived alongside in the castle—the ones I’d ultimately failed to protect—looked marginally more... polished than the ones I’d seen in the mines, but all of it was a dull sheen compared to what I was seeing now. Even Brie was never this happy when she got to spend time with me.
Still, there were a whole lot of crystal ponies who weren’t all happy and shiny. Most of them seemed to be getting badgered or entertained by a number of foreign ponies. I could only imagine they were trying to lift the spirits of the Empire in an attempt to ward off Sombra. Admirable, but it’d all be for nothing if that Twilight mare couldn’t get the Crystal Heart from the castle summit. There could be no other reason to keep the artifact there unless it held the key to harming him.
Whatever the lesser alicorn was doing to repel the unicorn king and his dark powers wouldn’t last. It’d been plain on her face, especially after seeing what he was willing to do in order to retain what he believed rightfully his. He was without mercy for his own slaves, and I knew from experience just what he’d do to the five outsider mares trying to raise morale. Or at least, I knew what he would have made me do.
“Shantae.” It was little more than a whisper on the very edge of my hearing, and yet I could hear it as though it were thunder. My old human ears never would have picked it up, but the long, elf-like ears of a genie—or half-genie—were much better at picking up sound. I looked around, trying to pick up where. it’d come from. There! In the shade of one of the palace supports was a tiny figure shrouded in shadow. “Come and see!”
I knew that voice anywhere! “Brie!” I shouted, my heart quickening inside my chest. There was no doubt in my mind that it was her, as I darted out into the plaza. A lot of ponies looked up in alarm at my shout, and in an instant their happy luster went away. These ponies, it seemed, recognized me and took off screaming about Malachite Hill.
There was an unhappy shout of “What in tarnation?” as I vaulted over an earth pony in a stetson—a southerner, go figure—and a few more shouts about the Blood Dancer. All the screaming must have frightened the filly, because by the time I had reached the shadow she’d been standing in, Sapphire Brie was cantering off toward the outskirts of the small city.
Not being anywhere as fast as a pony at full canter, I knew that I’d lose her if I didn’t think of something quickly. Think, Walt, you played the games. How did Shantae get around when she reached an obstacle? She transformed! Elephant was a bit slower on foot, but could clear the path with brute force. Harpy could be useful, but I don’t think I remember the dance for that one. Same with spider. Since mermaid would be completely useless here, I guess that leaves me with one choice.
I slid to a stop by the wall of one of the crystal houses and frowned. There’d been two versions of the dance. In the original, there were two moves that needed to be done with the right timing, the second of which looked ridiculous and perhaps a bit mocking of old Egyptian hieroglyphs. That was simplified down into a single move followed by a pose in the Risky’s Revenge.
I decided to take a chance on it being the simplified version purely on the merit of my current attire resembling the ingame sprite—I had the vest, after all. Thrusting my hands out to the sides as if to brace them on a doorframe, I spaced my feet apart at shoulder width. My eyes slammed shut as I made a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that this worked.
“One, two, three, four. Hips move right, hips move left, shoulders don’t pass feet on the floor,” I repeated under my breath, thrusting my hips right and left just far enough to meet the imaginary lines cast by my elbows. In my mind’s eye, the adorable little purple monkey came into focus. “Please work!”
“Ya’ll stop that right now, ya dang queer varmint!” came that southern drawl as I shifted into the pose that usually followed the dance. Fluttering my eyes open, I pivoted, putting all my weight onto my right foot. “You’re scaring the locals, and we’re tryin’ to rally them.”
My right arm fell as I smirked down at the blonde earth pony. Light flooded my vision, and I was struck with vertigo. Every inch of my flesh crawled and compacted, and my hair pulled in, only for fur to sprout up elsewhere. Strangely enough, most of my clothes and jewelry stopped existing. I blinked my eyes as I grew acutely aware of the fact that there was now a very large pony. A little purple tail was even right there swishing in the corner of my eye. “What in the hay?”
Now, it sounded like she was about to shout something about a changeling, but it doesn’t take a genie to tell you that a sudden faceful of monkey is a conversation—or warning—breaker on the best occasions. It’s just like, one minute you’re looking down at a cute little monkey, and—BAM! I ain’t so cute wrapped around your face, now, am I?
But now I was getting sidetracked in the entertainment value of tormenting redneck ponies with my monkey... ness. I really needed to get back to chasing after Sapphire, lest I start considering other monkey endeavors. With an apologetic squeak, I kicked off from the mare’s face using the full force of my little hind legs, propelling myself up onto the wall.
Firmly grappled onto the wall above the gobsmacked pony, I considered my options. The monkey form was faster on foot, but there was also the option of the Monkey Bullet ability—if I was lucky enough to have it. Even if I did, how would that translate here? It worked well enough in a biplanar environment because there was just up, down, left, and right, but how would that work out with the whole third axis?
I was about to find out, because Brie was almost out of sight. If my new primitive vocal chords would have allowed it, I would have called out something heroic or suiting to the moment—maybe even a “Geronimo!” As it stands, I was not capable of human speech and a cross between a “Whoop!” and a scream was all I could manage as I kicked off from the wall to become the first simian projectile in Equestria.
Against all odds and reason, Sapphire Brie was still alive; I intended to keep her that way.