//------------------------------// // "So, you're here to save us from something?" // Story: Headhunters // by PseudoFiction //------------------------------// “So are you a meteorite of some sort?” Twilight asked breaking the Spartan’s thirty second reprieve of conversation. Marko liked talk, but this was getting a little ridiculous. With his shotgun secured diagonally across his back, he opted for shouldering his submachine gun in case they came across something hostile. He was effectively in a first-contact situation, and if he had to defend Twilight Sparkle from anything he’d prefer the roar of his shotgun didn’t frighten her into a heart-attack. “No. I already told you, I’m a Spartan,” Marko responded tartly without looking at the pony. His gold-tinted gaze was fixated on his surroundings and the path ahead of them. They had pulled out of the thick of the forest and were following a path at the very least. Though ‘path’ was probably a strong word. It was littered with potholes and sometimes so overgrown even Twilight had to pause to figure out which way it led. Mud trailed up both their legs, and Twilight Sparkle being closer to the ground was covered up to her belly. “But you won’t tell me what that is!” Twilight whined as Marko avoided the particulars of her question. “It is what it is, okay? Stop being such a little bitch!” “I am a mare, not a dog!” Twilight Sparkle informed in a matter-of-factly tone. “Are you a warrior?” she suddenly added. That drew Marko’s attention away from the surroundings and to the little horse. “Warrior? Yeah, I suppose that’s a pretty good description. How’d you figure?” “You walk kind of like my brother.” – on the inside Marko cringed, hoping she wasn’t going to be projecting any brotherly affection – “Upright and proper,” Twilight continued to say. “He’s a captain in the royal guard.” “Oh, a big shot, eh?” Marko commented wondering if her brother was at all as retarded as some of the officers he was so lovingly familiar with. “Yeah. He’s also a prince since he married my old babysitter. She’s a princess too.” Yeah, he was royalty too. Definitely retarded. But that wasn’t all that was silly about Twilight’s statement. “Your babysitter is a... is there anyone on this planet who isn’t a fucking princess?” Marko laughed. “Plenty of ponies aren’t princesses.” Marko scoffed. “That remains to be seen.” Looking Twilight over he noticed she was breathing harder than normally. Her face was flushed too, and a quick sensor sweep indicated her heart-beat was higher than it was earlier. “You need a break?” Marko asked, his voice taking a sudden break to oddly kind instead of his tactlessly crude tone. Trotting to a halt, Twilight Sparkle nodded. “I could use a breather, yes. Thank you.” She didn’t even seem to care about the mud covering her body anymore. She just dropped into a muddy puddle and lay there panting like a dog trying to catch her breath. “You walk really fast,” she explained sheepishly. Marko just grunted noncommittally as he took a knee and visually checked his weapon. His orbital drop was bound to have done some damage somewhere, and he wanted to be sure he was ready to fire and kill. He just didn’t know when he’d be able to re-supply, so he didn’t want to waste any ammunition with a test fire. Not to mention that might give his… their position away to whatever nastiness roamed this dark forest. Another reprieve of thirty seconds later, Twilight shifted the conversation to an even sillier statement, and Marko’s subsequent groan was hard enough to give away their position anyway. “So you’re here to save us from something?” Marko scoffed again, tearing his eyes from the weapon to fix his frigid gaze on the pony princess. “What? No! What makes you say that?” “Well, there’s this old pony-tale that says that there is a warrior who falls from the night sky like a meteorite shot from an exploding star. That he comes to Equestria to save ponies from the wrath of darkness,” Twilight Sparkle told with a smile. She was clearly a fan of stories. Probably a heavy reader too. It explained how she was a fucking horse and Marko could still walk for longer than she could. She had bookworm written all over her. “That is... quite possibly... the...” Marko paused to think if he could put it into words that did the statement full justice. “Dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard! Grow up, would you? There’s no such thing as magical warriors that save the day... mind you, yesterday I didn’t think there were such things as talking horses. But there you go.” Twilight didn’t seem to think much of Marko making fun of her story – or her innocence – and instead seemed confused by a particular word Marko had used. It caused her to cock her head and squint through the darkness at the armoured giant. “You said that word again. What does it mean?” she asked. “What does what word mean?” “Fucking.” Eyes widening, Marko whipped his gaze around and looked at the pony who’d just straight up cursed in possibly the weirdest way he’d ever heard. “Come again?” “Fucking,” Twilight repeated emotionlessly, head still cocked inquisitively. Marko snorted at the sight of it. “Heheheh. It sounds so cute when it comes out of your mouth. And strangely arousing too. I’m thinking that ought to be worrying.” Brushing a bit of her fringe clinging to the sweat on her forehead (however that was possible for a furry animal), Twilight pressed the question. “What does it mean, Marko?” she almost pleaded. “I want to know what fucking means!” Marko snorted again, shaking his head. “Okay, stop talking and I’ll tell you. First though; how old are you?” “I’m eighteen.” “Oh.” Marko couldn’t have guessed that one. He would have put her at about fifteen, seventeen at the most. “And, uh... did your parents ever have the talk with you?” Twilight rolled her eyes up to think, then shook her head with a frown. “The talk?” “Yeah, you know! The talk! That little sit down session where they tell you about... y’know... stuff,” Marko said slowly, trying to sheepishly avoid coming out with it blatantly. “Stuff?” “Yeah... how little ponies are made,” the Spartan eventually buckled realising there was no easy way out of it. “Little ponies are-...” Twilight stopped dead at the sudden realisation of what Marko was getting at and at what ‘fucking’ exactly meant. “Sweet Celestia! That’s what fucking means?” “Got it in one,” Marko chuckled, mainly at the amusement of Twilight’s constant use of her newly discovered word. “But... but why do you keep saying it then?” She blinked confoundedly before her eyes darted back up to Marko’s visor. Suddenly repulsed she recoiled from the Spartan, sitting up. “Y-you... you want to... with... w-with me...?” “What? Ew! No, you stupid fucker!” “Well don’t call me it! I mean... I’ve never actually... um...” rubbing her neck sheepishly she rolled her eyes to avoid the headhunter’s gaze. “Y-you know...” Marko gaped silently as the princess straight up admitted to him that her hymen was still intact. Hanging his head the Spartan was groaning like he had when he’d fallen out of orbit. “No! It can mean multiple things. But that’s the most common definition. You can even use the word as a derogatory statement. Like me just calling you a fucker,” Marko smiled. “You’d do it to be mean.” “But why would you be mean to me?” Twilight suddenly whined, tears forming in the corners of her eyes and her ears drooping down the sides of her head. Her pupils had grown double in size, the purple irises barely visible as she gave him sad puppy-dog eyes. “I thought we were friends.” “We are!” Marko lied at the prospect of having to deal with the waterworks. “I didn’t intend it to be mean! I was just fucking with you, like friends normally do.” Twilight’s tears suddenly vanished and her sad expression was replaced with the one of pale, repulsed shock again. Realising what he’d just said, Marko sighed, palming the side of his helmet. “Oh, brother. Me ‘n my big mouth.”