//------------------------------// // Monster By Your Own Choosing // Story: Utaan // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// “Good work, everypony,” Quint said, shuffling through the hold as the collective group of orphans moaned from exhaustion, slumped over their bunks as they fought to catch their breaths. “Enjoy your nibbles. Nixkit and Digiff will be working us extra hard tomorrow, so I don't want any slacking! The Barge is depending on us to make this place presentable. The Top Dredger is working his way up the seven seas' ladder, and it'll make a great difference if all the filth here is buried for when that time comes. Ya feel me?” “We feel you and a half,” a filly grumbled. “Will you learn a new tune already?” “We can make music when we're bloated.” Quint pointed. “Right now, nibbles. Tonight? Sleep. Tomorrow? Earn your right to do it all again.” Muffled voices bled into a low-key commotion as the various orphans squatted in groups, communing over stale, dry food. Quint made one last pass through the hold, staring at every other pony with intense scrutiny. He passed by Swab's mattress—and here he paused for added length. His brow furrowed. Swab squatted there, shuddering under the glare of the older colt. He plucked at his pile of rice, slowly... torturously devouring kernel after kernel. His right ear twitched, and he took one glance up at the foal before shuddering... returning to his unhappy meal. Quint raised an eyebrow. At last, with an exasperated sigh, he tossed his mane and shuffled back to his table where Whony and the rest of the older colts huddled. “... ... ...” Swab continued sitting his little self on the bed, eating his way through his pile of rice. His eyes glanced to the right, then to the left. He lingered there in silence. Minutes passed. All of the sudden, Swab's body froze. He glanced up, his yellow pupils shrinking at a sudden thought. Then... slowly... a devilish grin formed across his brown face. Taking a deep breath, he threw his muzzle down and devoured the remaining pile of rice. Scarfing the stuff, he wiped his chin, hopped off his bag, and galloped briskly across the hold. Several ponies glanced over from their huddled conversations, watching the strange colt make his mad dash. One of them was Croche. Her eyes grew more sunken with contemplative thought. Nibbling on her own meal, she craned her head back and rejoined her fellow fillies' conversation... but not without keeping an eye trained over her shoulder. “What?!” A fat stallion in a slimy apron spun around. Behind him, huge basins full of fried foodstuffs filled the mess kitchen with steam and greasy vapors. “Again?! When is he going to give me a break?!” “I'm sorry...” Swab fidgeted, his voice taking on a charactieristically feeble tone. “If it was up to me, I wouldn't bother you. But I'm not the Top Dredger.” “Mrmmmf...” The stallion clenched his teeth. “Who does he want it for this time? Don't tell me it's Monket again—” “The Slaver of Waves will be returning from Mudtop at any moment.” “Gaaaaaugh!” The stallion spun, flinging his butcher's knife into the wall. CLANK! Swab winced as the cook snarled: “What does he think I am?! An apple tree?! That stuff is super hard to come by!” “I-I'm sorry!” Swab backed up, shivering. “I dunno why he always picks on me to transport this stuff! He just calls me 'Canteloupe' and sends me on my way!” He gulped. “Still... if you have none to spare, I'll go tell him so.” “Wait wait what?!” The cook twirled towards the foal again, breathless. Swab shuffled limply up the ramp towards the top deck of Red Barge. “I'm sure Skagra will understand that you're unwilling to fulfill his request,” he muttered, sniffling. “I mean... he was merciful to the cook who disappointed him before you, right? After all, it was a quick death. Well... mostly—” “Whoah whoah whoah—kid... kid!” The stallion waved his hoof wildly. With a shuddering breath, he motioned Swab back. “Get your seafoam flank back down here.” Eyes rolling, he limped towards a cabinet. “If Skagra wants fruit for his guest... grnnngh... I swear he'll get it.” “Oh...?” Swab made little hops, grinning. “Oh good! Great!” “Mrmmmff... right now, it is. But not for long,” the cook grumbled, gathering several bits of fruit and stuffing them into a basket. “You're the Top Dredger's little one-eared messenger, huh? You go tell the boss when you deliver this shit that the only way we're gonna have more fancy eats is if we either invite a produce shipment to stop by our muckpile—which is highly unlikely—or he gets his new butt-buddy Monket to raid the nearest trade route.” He frowned, throwing in the finishing touches. “Rice and fish are easy. You could hook a turd into the ocean and make anything grab. And as for rice... heh... I swear it's the only thing that's kept Rohbredden afloat while Luminar fell into the sea.” “I'll be sure to tell him everything!” “Well, not the poetic parts, kid,” the cook grumbled, hoofing the basket of fruit over. “Here.” He snarled. “And—I swear—if I catch you eating a single grape from this container, I'll gut and deep-fry you myself!” “Oh, I would never do that!” Swab gasped. He held up a solemn hoof. “I swear! I will not take a single bite!” “Hrmmmf... there's a good ball of sea foam.” The cook returned to his steamy tasks. “Now I know why you're the top dredger's 'Canteloupe,' because you've got the brains of one.” “Huh?” Swab sing-songed. “What was that? I don't understand.” “Hah...” The cook shook his head, stirring a pot. “You'll end up bloat before you do. Now scram.” Swab planted the basket on his flank. He galloped up the ramp. When he was out of the cook's line of sight, he shuffled to a stop, looked over his shoulder... ... ...then grinned wildly. Stifling a giggle, he darted out onto the top deck's surface and headed due south. She curled up in the corner of the prison cell, her bandaged wings twitching. The mare's muzzle hung open, and her breaths came in and out in fitful spurts. Across the way from her... beyond the slitted beams of sunlight... a basket full of fruit lowered on the end of a lengthy piece of twine. “Psssst!” Swab peered in through the bars of the passageway directly above the Rainbow Rogue's cell. He shivered in place, glancing nervously over his shoulder more than once. With the hint of a frown, he leaned his little head closer to the bars. “Pssssst!” Rainbow hardly stirred. “Hey!” Swab exclaimed hoarsely. “Miss Monster!” He winced at his own words. Nevertheless, he jerked at the twine in his grasp. The basket of fruit shifted across the floor, swinging back and forth, scuffling closer towards Rainbow Dash. An orange fell out, rolled, then came to a bumping stop against her head. The mare's ears twitched once or twice... then were still. “Hey! Come on!” Swab whimpered. “You gotta wake up! You just gotta!” He pointed down at the basket. “It doesn't get much fresher than this around here! And that's a fact!” Nothing... but dead stillness. Swab sighed. Leaning back, he wrapped a length of the twine around his forelimb and prepared to drag the basket back up— “Grnngh... no...” “...?” Swab glanced down. “Don't... it'll crumble without me...” Rainbow's teeth gnashed. Her hooves kicked in the air, then outright “galloped.” “Grnnngh... no... NO!” She shot up with a brief shriek. “Cloudsdale! It's falling—!” She sat in a cold slump, panting. Swab recoiled, wincing. Nevertheless, his yellow eyes remained locked on the petite pegasus alow. “... ... ...rnngh...” Rainbow covered her muzzle, shuddering. “Dang it... dang it.” She shivered once... twice... then froze. “... ... ...?” Her hoof traveled down, plucking the orange from the floor. She raised the inexplicable fruit to her nose, sniffing. “I'd start with the grapes if I were you.” “...!” Rainbow jumped up to her hooves, staring up at the bars. Swab jolted slightly. “Only b-because they're the juiciest. Or so I'm told.” He cleared his throat. “I've... never eaten a single one in my life, but apparently they're the tatiest fruit there is.” “... ... ...” Rainbow slowly approached the basket, leaning in to examine it like a pensive feline. “Well, except for pineapples,” Swab muttered. “I hear there're a lot of them in the Colonialist atolls, but they're not exactly easy to eat.” “Where... where in the heck did you get these, kid?” Rainbow tilted her head up. “And how hard are they gonna beat you up once they found out you've brought them down here?” “Maybe they... uh... grew on our trees?” Swab remarked. Rainbow blinked. “This place is a bunch of stupid old bolts welded together around a shelf-digging platform. Where are you gonna plant trees among all that crud?” Swab's jaw hung open. “How... h-how did you know all of that? You've been down here ever since Monket dragged you in!” “I saw enough to figure it out. Or...” Rainbow sighed, glancing into the shadows of the cell. “...I saw through the eyes of another pony.” “Huh?” “Rnnngh... what are you even doing here, kid?” Rainbow frowmed, shoving the fruit basket away. “For real. Get lost with this thing.” “But—” “I'm not about to be the reason why you get skinned alive.” Her nostrils flared as she turned away from the basket. “...there's enough crud riding on my shoulders already.” Swab bit his lip. He looked from side to side... then quivered as he bore a stubborn frown. “No.” With a flick of his fetlock, he tossed the remaining length of the twine down. Rainbow turned, blinking at the fully-fallen string. She frowned up at Swab. “Great. Way to go.” Her ruby eyes narrowed beneath her scar. “Now you'll never get the fruit out of here before they catch you.” Swab casually rested his chin against his forelimb. “Guess you're gonna have to gobble up all the evidence, then.” “... ... ...” Rainbow sighed, slumping down as she plucked the first of several grapes down her gullet. Swab tilted his head to the side. “What's Cloudsdale?” “Mrmmmff?” Rainbow muttered through a mouth full of juices. “That thing you mentioned when you woke up,” he remarked. “Or is it a pony?” “It's not a pony. It's a place.” “Oh?” Swab blinked. “Where is it?” “Mrmmmfff... very very far from here.” “Like... how far?” “That's all you need to know.” Swab's eyes darted between her and the fruit she was eating. “Is it where you came from?” Rainbow simply munched on her food. Swab exhaled calmly. His next utterance came in a low murmur: “Is it where you left your friends?” She snarled suddenly. “Is all you do is just crap out questions?” Her nostrils flared. “If so, then go fill a diaper, kid.” “B-but I was just wonderi—” “I don't have any friends!” Rainbow barked, and her bandaged wings stirred. “You think a pony like me would be in this stupid rusted pit if she did?” “You've got Fluttershy, don't you?” Rainbow opened her mouth again to retort... but hesitated. With a defeated sigh, she glanced to the sides. “She's... she's different.” A gulp, and she nibbled on some more grapes. “Mrmmff... she's special.” “I bet.” Swab smiled. “I also think she'd like to hear you say that.” “Mrmmmff... she can't right now.” “Why not?” “She's... away.” “You mean she left you too?” “No! I mean... grnnngh...” Rainbow cleared her throat. “Let's just say she's 'asleep' right now, okay?” “Ohhhhhh...” Swab blinked. “That's weird.” “Mrmmff... tell me about it.” “I've never heard of an imaginary friend who fell asleep.” Rainbow's eyes twitched. She stifled a belch and wiped her muzzle clean. “H-huh?” “It's okay.” Swab shook his head. “I don't care if you're too old for imaginary friends. They can be super cool. And helpful.” “Uhhh... I-I never said that—” “I used to have imaginary friends before,” Swab said, his eyes gazing off past the slivers of sunlight. “Long ago. Some of my first memories are playing games with them.” He gulped. “Mom and Dad owned this boat, and the three of us would travel the seven seas... transporting trinkets and fishing tools. It's how we earned our nib—erm... I mean made money. But then... I-I guess there weren't any bits left to earn. So my dad heard of the Barges, and we came here to try and make a living. We lived up in the central apartments along with the other families. But then... then Mom and Dad had to go away on a shelf-scouting mission. I... uh... I haven't seen them since...” Rainbow gawked up at him. Swab swallowed a lump down his throat. “I... stopped having imaginary friends. Only... it was more complicated with that. I... I-I sent them away. Figured... they would be very unhappy here.” He rested on folded limbs, murmuring: “I don't even remember their names. It would risk bringing them back. That wouldn't be a good thing... for them.” Rainbow's muzzle hung open. “... ... ...how long did you say your parents were gone for, kid?” “A-anyways...” Swab coughed and smiled down at her. “I'm glad you've still got one around to hang out with you... heehee... even if she's a sleepy pony.” He exhaled calmly. “It means you've got something to hold onto that the other ponies here don't. That's pretty cool... and strong.” “Kid...” “Swab.” “Swab...” Rainbow stood up tall, trotting halfway towards the lofty window. “I want you to look at me... straight in the face... and listen.” Swab did so, eyes bright. She took a deep breath. With a furrowed brow, she spoke firmly... icily. “I've murdered ponies. Entire villages full of little foals your exact age are dead because of me and the journey I've made. And not too long ago—without thinking twice about it—I personally wrecked a village full of harmless old stallions and mares.” She sneered. “Now, no amount of starving or nightmare-waking is gonna change the fact that I've done nasty things... and... and I-I don't deserve any friends,” she stammered, her muzzle hanging between a pout and a frown. “Imaginary or not.” He pointed. “You need to stop visiting me. It's for your own good. I mean it.” Silence. Rainbow turned around and headed towards the fruit basket. She sat down... sighed... ... ...and looked back up at the window. Swab was still there. Rainbow groaned. “Why haven't you made like a pig and farted off...?” “You say you're such a monster...” Swab's voice was quiet... breathy. “But all you do is admit your sins.” He blinked. “And I think you're really... really sorry for them.” Rainbow bit her lip. “Real monsters don't destroy things...” Swab shook his head. “They let horrible stuff keep happening.” He gulped. “Like the ones who... who r-run this place...” A tiny squeak escaped his lips. “Or like me... who's almost getting used to it.” The prisoner blinked. Swab stood up on trembling limbs. “I know you probably hate yourself. I'm used to that feeling. What I'm not used to is knowing where I've been... or where I'm going. You've got all of that... plus a friend. And if only you can see her... be glad. It's been a long time since the rest of us have seen anything.” Rainbow slowly shook her head. “I'm nothing to be proud of, Swab.” “Maybe... or maybe not just yet.” Swab shuddered, though it was through a soft smile. “How will we know unless you avoid starving?” The pegasus had no response to that. “I'll be back later.” “No you won't, kid.” “It won't be with fruit, but I'll find something else to help you out.” Swab scampered off. “Kid... Swab!” Rainbow hissed. She rolled her eyes. “The basket! Friggin'...” She face-hoofed for a few seconds, gave up, then eventually returned to scarfing fruit down. Swab trotted north from the Southern Strut. He paused along a sun-lit bulkhead, rubbing his eyes. There, he lingered, fumbling through a heavy breath or two. At last, a smile came back to his muzzle, and he proceeded to march back towards the hold with a slight bounce to his canter. “I thought Quint told you not to give the monster any more food,” a feminine voice droned. “...!” Swab spun around. Croche stared at him with dull eyes. She hid in the shadow of a pair of tall steam vents. Swab tilted his nose up. “No. He told me not to give her anymore rice.” “... ... ...” Croche slowly blinked. “What are you, stupid?” “Huh?” “He and Whony will find a reason to beat you up all the same,” Croche muttered. “They always do.” “Just like I always find a way to get beaten up.” Swab shrugged. “So what?” “Have you been drinking your own urine like the other, littler colts?” “Huh?” Swab leaned back, grimacing. “N-no...” “Then how come you're acting all dense-headed and stir crazy all of the sudden?” “Look, I just want to make a difference in this awful place for a change!” Swab exclaimed. “Uh huh...” Croche slowly shuffled out of the shadows. “...by stealing food and giving it to the Rainbow Rogue? The only difference is the fresh hole in your neck once one of the dredgers finds out and removes your head.” “So what?!” Swab frowned, shaking slightly. “At least I'll know that I went out doing something that was good.” To that, Croche glared. She snorted, then brushed past him in an angry trot. “You're a bad pony.” “Huh?” Swab blinked, eyes flooded with confusion. He spun around, gawking at her. “What? Why??” “And you should feel sorry for yelling at me,” she huffed, shuffling off. “Because I once did something that was good too. Or at least... I tried.” Swab's muzzle hung open. He bounced back and forth between sharp emotions before eventually growling: “Well... w-well maybe I like being bad!” Hyperventilating, he stomped a hoof down. “Perhaps all this time, I should have tried sinning! Because acting sorry for them hasn't m-made a difference!” He seethed through clenched teeth. “It hasn't brought my parents back! Has it?!” She disappeared beyond the nearest strut. “And... and...” His voice cracked. “If you're worried about me and the fruit, don't! I'm... I-I know what I'm doing! What's more, I know better than to get caught!” With a proud smug, Swab spun around—only to bump straight into a pair of armored talons. “Gaaaaaaah!” He fell back on his flank, curling up into a little ball. “Pleasedon'tmeltmeintosteamgoo! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Digiff for... for...” He nervously glanced past his forelimbs, eyes traveling up the length of the gauntlets and chestplate until he found himself staring at a beak beneath red and brown plumage. The griffon stared down at him. Suddenly, he did something very odd. He smiled. “Hello, little one,” the stranger said in a calm, breathy tone. “Forgive me if I scared you. Are you alright?” “Uhm...” Swab sat up, rubbing a hoof over his right ear. “Mmmhmmm.” “Do you live around here?” Swab stood, brushing himself off as his eyes met the deck below. “Mmmhmmm.” “... ... ...have you ever seen a griffon before?” Swab bit his lip. “Well, I've found that's rather usual for this part of the sea.” He leaned in with a clatter of his armor. “Tell me. Is this Red Barge that I'm currently perched on?” “Mmm... Mmmhmmm.” “From what I know, the barges are run by ponies called 'dredgers.' Would you happen to know if you're Top Dredger is on board?” Swab bit his lip, shivering too hard to answer that. His eyes traveled towards the central platform. The griffon followed the trail of the foal's gaze... and then he squinted back down at the colt. “...do you work here, little one?” “Mmmhmmm.” “And just where might your parents be?” Swab's pupils shrank. He instantly looked up with a gasp. “My... m-my parents are fine! They're...” He pointed in some nebulously western direction. “...they're out at sea!” “Are they, now...?” “Yessir.” Swab nod-nod-nodded. “G-gathering scouting information so we can find more dredge coal shelves to harvest.” The griffon's eyes caught the foal's scarred flink. “That is... very interesting. When will they be back?” “I... I-I...” Swab hung his head. “I don't know.” The stranger's gaze narrowed. Just then there was a pounding of heavy hoofsteps. “Swab? Dammit, seafoam!” Digiff marched up. “Why aren't you down in your little orphan hole, preparing for the next—” He froze his place. His bearded muzzle scrunched at the sight of the griffon. “Who the Hell are you?” “Greetings, sir.” The guard calmly turned towards him. “Might you be so kind as to direct me to the office of Red Barge's top dredger?” “And why should I do that, birdpussy?” Taking a breath, he slid his silver helmet back on. “My name is Lieutenant Keris of the Right Talon of Verlaxion.” His magenta eyes narrowed like daggers. “I am here on a mission—directly authorized by the Council of Verlaxion—to uncover the whereabouts of the Rainbow Rogue, and—if I am so fortunate to catch her—turn her in to the proper authorities of Central Rohbredden.” Swab blinked. Muzzle agape, he turned from Keris to Digiff. Digiff stood in place, his expression paling. “As you might understand...” Keris smiled... only to frown again under a glinting helmet. “...it would be in your best interest if you and your boss complied with my investigation.” Digiff nodded... then nodded again. “Yeah—” It came out as a raspy squeak. He cleared his throat, and the gravelly bass returned to his voice. “Yeah. Right this way...” He spun about, frowning, as he marched due north. “...good Lieutenant...” Keris flapped his wings and glided after him, leaving a little colt to watch from behind... gazing in a numb stupor.