//------------------------------// // Working Days // Story: Earning Freedom // by Daxisle //------------------------------// Working Days Awakening from a light sleep, Sin tweaked his neck until he felt a very satisfying crack both directions. With a satisfied sigh, the stallion stood up and stretched his body, taking notice of the night's sky and the clock. 3:30 AM. He looked across the carpet to find Uppity still fast asleep on the pillows that the library used for chairs. She and Twilight had kept him up until damn near midnight, arguing their cases against why they thought he was wrong in his ways. He kept his calm and held his own for a bit, but the two constantly agreeing with each other put him at an obvious disadvantage. A fiery poke in his chest froze him in place and he gently lowered his foreleg. It was still too tender to be messing with it like this, but he'd need to push through it, especially if he was going to go back to working at the lumber mill. Silently, the stallion spared one last look at the mare who slept soundly not two yards from him to ensure he hadn't disturbed her before quietly opening the door and creeping out. Quick and quiet movements had been an imperative skill if one wanted to live in the wild undetected, and the ability had served him well in many situations. He was probably being paranoid, but he couldn't risk them waking up before he did and following through with their threats from last night. Sin walked through a dead forest, one the residents of Ponyville referred to as Whitetail Woods, it was where the wood mill he hoped to still be employed at was located. The dark of the morning brought with it the early spring chill and an imitating view, the moon hanging in the sky ever so lowly, casting just enough light for the shadows of the branches around him to look like claws that waited to ensnare him. Not that he was childish enough to think such a thing was possible, but the idea did give him something to think about that took his mind off of the ungodly burn in his chest. He'd done it last night while everyone else was asleep. He snuck into the bathroom with three dragon scales in hoof and mentally prepared himself as he undid the bandages around his chest. The pain was excruciating enough to halt the incisions more than once, but the still repairing flesh was a perfect opportunity for him to jam the dispel charms into his chest with no questions asked. His body was having a hard time accepting the foreign objects into its anatomy, not to mention that every time he lifted a foreleg he could feel it pushing into his muscles, but he'd get used to that. In being immune to magic, such temporary pain was a small price to pay. At least, he hoped that it would make him immune to magic, dead dragon scales weren't the same as live dragon scales, obviously. Hence his early departure, it was always better to avoid a bad situation than hope you were prepared for it. 'You don't seriously think they'd do that to you, do you?' Would you seriously put it past them? Think about what Twilight's done to me in the past for a second. 'You've gotta go back after work, you know that, right?' As he walked, he caught sight of a small light burning through the trees, he dismissed it as one of his co-workers coming to work early like him. Typically the day didn't start until four-thirty, but management showing up to turn on the lights and get a jump on the day seemed reasonable. He made it to the main building and was surprised to see the mill completely devoid of life. He took a pocket watch from his cloak to see the time was four in the morning. But that light, shouldn't that have been one of the managers? Shrugging, the stallion looked around to pass the time. Circular saws were set up in their usual places when not in use. Converyer tracks stood stationary, soon to be carrying logs to be cut into thin wooden strips, a few platforms and racks lay to the right, a small but powerful set of cranes sat ready to latch the logs from the transport wagons from the lumberjacks. And finally the station in which he worked, rolling the logs from the racks to the conveyor lines, holding them steady for the initial saw work. While his goggles were an asset for the job, his cloak was a giant hazard, possible to get caught in a saw and lead him to a very grisly demise. He was reluctant to remove it his first day, but did so anyways. The obvious questions came up about why he didn't have a cutie mark, both on his flank and paperwork, but he just said that it was the result of an experience that happened in his childhood and that he didn't want to talk about it any farther. Technically it was true, so he didn't feel too bad about his vagueness. His co-workers gave him a hard time in the begging, but in that kind of work, if they gave you a hard time, it meant they liked you. It was when the stallions around were polite and quiet that you had to worry. "Sin? That you?" He turned to find a brown pelted pony looking at him, his black mane was disheveled yet held a strange orderly chaos to it. "Damn man, what are you doin' here this early?" Sin pressed his lips. "Hey, boss. Came in to talk to you about yesterday." The manager pony nodded his head and made a mention about how unhappy he was as he unlocked the door to the offices. "Well, I would say you'd best get to explaining yerself, but I already know why you didn't come back." Sin followed him inside. "You do, Jacker?" Jacker smirked. "Course, half the bloody town knows by now I think. Ain't too many stood up to the mayor and her lackeys." He chuckled. "Did she really call the guard in to pull you out because you were givin' her a thrashing?" Small town rumer spread pretty fast, but the Federalist that they had spread that fast. "Didn't touch her, Jack. Though I really wish I could have." Jack chuckled and asked why he was yelling at her in the first place. "The town's budget." "Is that all?" Jack shook his head, the two entering his office, the manager switching on the lights. "Double and a half pay for over 30 hours worked." The black maned stallion's head whipped so quickly, he nearly snapped his neck. "WHAT!? Double AND a half for... is that what my tax bits are... I... WHAT?!" Sin smirked, finally, someone was on his side for once. "You've got to be kidding me." "That's what I said when I was looking it over." Deducting is rather colorful language. Jacker humphed and cursed under his breath before commending Sin for his efforts, hopefully the mayor would make some serious changes now that she'd been confronted about it by someone. "Guess we'll find out when the day's over." He smirked before scowling. "But this is your one warning, if you don't come back from lunch again, you're fired." Returning the smirk, Sin nodded. "Duly noted." Sin was handed a warning form for documentation evidence to his acknowledgement of the warning and signed it before walking back out to his station. Some of the other employees were filling in now, each looking just as tired and not with it as the last. It was always like that though, they'd all be found in the break room, coffee in hoof and waking up there in to ready for the day. There was Chopper, a large, grizzly old pony of a stallion who had to be taller and more broad than Mac. His pleated shirt and overgrown beard only adding to his ruggedness. He greeted Sin with a friendly "Mornin' Dutch". The Federalist had no idea why he called everyone Dutch, but he counted it as a term of endearment. Behind him entered Ax and Blade Slasher. A pair of Twin stallions, both light green in pelt and blue of mane, both worked hard and kept safety as the prime directive. Though, that's where the similarities ended. One was a a jokester who kept the work atmosphere fun and lively, the other was a stallion wound a little to tightly. Sin could appreciate that, though. A few more stallions plus one mare also came in, each making straight for the break-room/kitchen area to begin the awakening and for Jacker to come in herd them to work. Sin smiled, it was nice to be back here again, though as he lifted his leg a little too far up a sudden jab in his chest forced him to put it back down. He sighed and looked over to the logs that he'd have to push onto the conveyor belts and cringed. Today was going to be miserable.