//------------------------------// // Jump on the train-wagon // Story: A Timber for a Wolf (Comment-driven) // by Solarkness //------------------------------// SnapDrakeGames' Comment As you walk through the wagons into one actually meant for passengers, you're suddenly jerked back. Through the window, you can see that the train is moving, and can't help but wonder: By Gaea's Almighty, Forsaken and Earthy Underpants... What is this Witchcraft? BrownDog77's Comment As you look around at all the other passengers in your wagon, you realise that a hood isn't enough for a disguise. You need facial hair. Addiction gained: Facial-hair-addiction / Beard-addiction: How the hell do you even get addicted to that? No, you know what? This is stupid! -you envy creatures with beards more beautiful than yours (no beard is the most ugly one) -when with facial hair you perform twenty percent better -while you have no facial hair you have an allergy against fake-beards made out of something different than hair -fake-beards made out of someone else's hair count Sitting across from you is a portly looking unicorn with a long, magnificent beard. You want that beard! Now how the buck do I get it? You can't just pull it off his face, it might wake him up. Looking through your pockets, you find an honest to goodness razor in one of the pockets, and some scissors in the other. Well that's convenient, but I still need some sort of shaving cream... You look around the nearly empty room, but you do spot a desert trolley, and a bowl of whipped cream is on it. Good enough. It's not someone important to me anyways... You take the cream, then look around the room, to make sure you aren't being watched. After that you smear the cream all over his beard as gently as you can. He stirs in his sleep, but keeps on snoring. You finallgitake out your razor and scissors and begin cutting the beard gingerly. Luckily for you, no one sees your impromptu barber technique, and you cleanly shave him. Wasn't he like, a few decades older a shave ago? "Alright, now I've got my beard...", you exclaim loudly as you pick up pawfulls of loose hair that in no way look like a beard. Huh... how... wait, with no adhesive to keep it all together... That plan was stupid. Why did I think it would work? But still... I did not just do that expert, albeit my first, shave just to not have a beard after all! I've got to find a way to make it stick... Looking around the room, you open up pony luggage and find some Beeswax candles and a lighter. You swear to Gaia, that beard will stick! You go to the bathroom with your clumps of hair and melt some candles, smearing the wax and hair onto your face. If you wanted to look like a scraggly drifter, congratulations! As you return to your place, you think: Dodo of Chaos's Comment Wait, what if they still find out what I am? Hm... if I jump at that mare back there, that colt over here could take out an axe... if I jump at the colt the mare could take out the axe... If I throw the colt at the mare, the stallion right next to m... HOLY DIRT! "Your ticket, please", 'Mysterious Stallion right next to you' asks you in a calm, but determined tone. You chuckle nervously, and reply: "What, so you can steal mine? No thanks, I won't have any of that nonsense." What the hell is a 'ticket'? 'Mysterious Stallion right next to you' shakes his head, and tells you: "Please, it is my job to make sure all passengers have a ticket." You open your mouth to give him an answer, only for you to think about what he said. Wait, it is his job... I KNEW IT! The ponies give all ponies a 'ticket' so that guy can bring all non-ponies into jail! I knew even the leadership was corrupted! You ram into the stallion, screaming "I WON'T LET YOU TAKE ME ALIVE!" and jump over at the colt to throw him at the mare. You had not seen the colt's mother before, so instead you are being bucked towards the door. undeadponylord Comment, but I am not very good at that sort of thing The door opens, and a, now as pony-slave confirmed, griffon with glasses sticks her / his head into your wagon and tells everyone (completely oblivious of you thanks to your stealth-technique of lying in front of her): "Could you please quiet down? I am trying to read..." You don't wait for her / him to finish her speech of loyalty she / he has to give because of the hypnosis, but instead run through the door and run into the next wagon. You interrupt lunch, nap-time and *cough* other things the other passengers were doing, only for you to realise something: Ha! He already has given up because I was too fast for him! As you think that, the ticket-taker enters your wagon and tells you: "Get out." You don't react, trying to mimic a statue, until you understand he won't mistake you, but then it is too late for you to run and he throw you out of the driving train. I hate trains. You don't remember how exactly it came to be that you stand on the train, but you do. As you feel the wind flowing through you, almost taking you with it, you decide you have to get back on the train... undercover. PentakillApocalypse's Comment You walk slowly back towards the last wagon, humming... okay, singing a catchy tune on the way. You finally reach it, just while the song ends, and enter, making sure noone sees you. Hard Cider's Comment Observing the car you will now reside in until your reach Fillydelphia, you notice that it's full of luggage's, trunks, and various other containers of personal effects. Hmmmmm, I believe this is what they call the, bag cart? No no, baggage car, yes that sounds right. Thanks to your thorough evaluation you notice that there are piles of baggage's that you could hide in in the case someone decides to enter this car. Finished with scrutinizing the entire car, you can afford yourself to reflect on your current situation. You are currently in the very last car or the train with a low chance of anyone discovering you, a stow away. Ponies fear you for obvious reasons. *sigh* Getting tired of being chased away from people. Welp, I certainly have plenty of time to myself. Might as well try and find a way to improve my equine disguise. Perhaps there's something in those bags that could help. Sifting through the mountains that are luggage's, you find some choice pieces of cloths and suit of armor to create a disguise. As you finish shifting into an even more equine shape (Transformation Skill + 1), you begin to don your new set of full-plate armor. Placing the last piece of armor on your head- the helmet -you will your spirit to inhabit both your wooden body and your armor as well. Cryptozoologist have found that 'alpha' timberwolves, or those of strong spirits are able to form bodies out of materials other than wood. Though they prefer to to inhabit wooden bodies, they will use other material out of necessity. Overcome with sense of vertigo, your body sways side-to-side before finally falling over in the most dramatic fashion possible, at the end of your fall, you pull a large curtain as you fall to the floor. You look up to see what has been uncovered. Hmmm, a mirror. Through the darkness you can you see yourself in your sick new duds. *Perk gained: Always to have for a good costume Remember those teleporting, firework summoning Iron-Mare-cosplayers? They have the whole skilltree of this -gained after getting three or more disguises / costumes in rapid succession -increases Stealth, Swag and Handsome-ity by 10 -you are able to get extremely excited over good costumes and may at times want them really bad -you are able to bond with one of your costumes, allowing you to instantly wear them at anytime anywhere (Pinkie-level-ability) 'Hmmm, . . . yes. This looks well on me. But the glowing eyes and wooden face aren't doing me any favors.' Once your head is thoroughly hidden in a layer of blue cloth you begin ogling the now knightly stallion in the mirror. As you look into the vanity, you can hear something scuttling about at the other end of the car. Drawing your massive sword, you cautiously approach your fellow stowaway. A small shadowy form jumps from cover and begins wildly punching your armor. Slowly you lower your sword and look over your withers . . . . . . to see a small ragged filly trying to bite off one of your plates. "Hey, let my plates be! I worked hard to get them just right!", you tell her, but she doesn't listen to you, "What, are you deaf or something?" You hear the train slowing down, and ignore the filly for the time being as you get out of the train. You look around, and all you can think is: Since when is Fillydelphia in the desert? You hear a *thud* as the filly falls down from you. What do you do?