Well, the date for publishing the collab is nearly closer and closer. I am just waiting on art myself and will be posting biweekly starting on Feb 16th. If the art takes a little longer, I'll still post on Mondays, but weekly until I catch up instead. Release dates for chapters and word count for them can be found on my author page in the progression bar.

I hope you all will enjoy what's coming. It's taken a little longer than we all would have liked, and a few things still need to be worked out *cough*shiro*cough*

Now then, here are the last two teasers of mine before the posting begins.

Applejack gave Fluttershy a quick nuzzle both to focus her attention and to keep her going. She didn’t fault the poor dear for being worried; her own mind was still pondering what Shining had just said. Still, a few things needed to be done first. Thinking could come later.

If Applejack could compare the Clementine, it was the tractor that had been in her family’s possession for almost twenty years. The faint aroma of old metal parts and grease clung to the air in a thin sheen. Other than the occasional odd look, the pair of them weren’t given too much attention. People scrambling back and forth with bags or parts in their grasp reminded her of Rarity when she being a fussy ninny. Fluttershy wasn’t watching where she was going, leaving her to take the lead.

“And you got a room fer both of us?” she asked their guide, the resident quartermaster.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted. The skinny human kept running a hand through his hair. Currently it was slicked into some giant cowlick. “You both were cleared for private quarters. Right here.”

The man locked up from his datapad and clicked a button on the door they stopped at. “This entire section of the ship is the living quarters. Until the time comes when we arrive on Magnasanti, this will be your living quarters to do with as you wish.”

Applejack had peeked in other rooms in the long and boring corridor, and what she saw was the same, if gutted, example. There was little more than a pair of bunk beds, fit for humans, of course, a small desk, and closet space. It felt like the size of her bathroom back home.

The quartermaster handed Applejack a datapad. “A general map of the ship, including off-limits areas, event list, and a list of terms for the duration of your stay.” He inhaled deeply, causing Applejack to snigger slightly; it looked like he had been giving the same instructions far too many times this day. “You are only hereby permitted on board until we dock in Magnasanti, you are not carrying anything hazardous or unlawful such as... etcetera, etcetera, all unscheduled pit stops or detours at your request will be denied unless reasons listed in that datapad are given and validated, and you agree to not put forth any legal action against Organic Corporate Operations for any reasons listed below up to and including the following reasons for delay, also listed below, war party assaults on safe shipping lanes, and chesterbursters. Understood?”

Applejack had been scanning the flat datapad carefully balanced on her hoof. What was a ‘sudden gravitational mass shadow’ supposed to be? “Mind if I get back to you on that? ...Wait, what!?” Yet before the quartermaster could answer for his choice of words, he had left to attend to his duties.

Fluttershy had been nosing around the room while the quartermaster talked. At least she was proactively doing a little investigating. She’d hardly said a word since Shining’s warning. “Ah know it’s not the most comfy—”

“It’s fine,” Fluttershy said quietly. Applejack blinked, surprised. Being quiet she expected, but Fluttershy never interrupted others.

“...Okay then.” Although the majority of their luggage had been loaded into the cargo hold, there was plenty of closet space to store. After a brief moments that were only filled with the stowing of bags, Applejack tried again. “Listen, ah know all this, “ she gestured around, “is a lot to take in, sugarcube. If you ever need to just talk...”

Fluttershy did not reply. She was looking at the doorway, which someone currently occupied. He was a tall man with bronze skin. Grease and grime covered his blue-collar clothes, and welder goggles hid his eyes. A smile decorated his face.

WIth a slight nod, and a little lengthening of his smile, he left. No hospitality at all. Applejack snorted and bit back a retort. Most people were like Ana and Sam so far; friendly or indifferent. Those without manners or who just didn’t like ponies, while expected, were becoming increasingly more common.

The farmer smashed a hoof against the button that forced the door to close. Sleep would not come easy tonight.

His door opened with a crash before he closed it with equal fervor. With his back towards the door, he eyed his spartan apartment carefully. Same holovid screen, same couch, same dingy wallpaper.

“Christ, that was fucked.”

His hands clicked the lock before he moved towards the kitchen. Tapped on the underside of a cabinet was a Zenith headset. Removing the one from his head, he tossed that in the microwave and maxed out the timer. Forcing the replacement roughly on his head with one hand and stuffing his gun into his belt with the other, he quickly dialed a number he knew by heart.

The man dodged furniture and doors until he ran straight into his own bedroom. Just as he opened the closet door, the other end of the call finally picked up. “Yeah? Who’s this?”

“Hey, Rolland; it’s me.” He picked up a trunk and opened it. Good; it was empty.

Something thumped on Rolland’s end of the phone and he grumbled noisily. “It’s too late for this shit. You have five seconds before I hang up, Gabe.” Rolland’s bed protested on the other end of the line.

“I need to disappear for a while. Week at the least. A month, preferably.” Gabe piled only the barest clothes into the trunk, along with what little gear he could fit. Now was not the time to pack heavy.

Rolland must have caught the seriousness of his tone, for the footsteps stopped. “The hell did you do?”

“I’ll explain later, but I’m out of time. Can you hook me up or not? You know I’m good for it.” Gabe turned to the vent in the corner of the room and pried it open. On the inside was a small duffle, a premade bug-out bag for emergencies. Now certainly qualified.

“Yeah, yeah, but you’re rushing me on this one. I’m upping the pr—”

“Done. Just tell me what to do.” Gabe sealed the case and dragged it back into the living room. His next stop was the bathroom. Feeling around behind the toilet, he quickly found the loose screw. Yanking hard, it detached from the wall entirely. It broke away from the wall with a thunderous crack

“The hell was that?” Rolland asked.

Gabe let the toilet collapse onto the floor. It wasn’t like his current identity was burned anyway. Even when the pigs did get to the apartment, which they undoubtedly would given enough time, a little collateral damage wouldn’t make much difference. Best to get out fast. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’ve been burned, Rolland.”

“Seven hells, what did you get yourself into?” Rolland sighed and Gabe could almost see the facepalm.

“Enough trouble to last a lifetime. Don’t worry about money or papers or wetwork; I got all that. I just need a hole to hide in and someone to cover it with dirt” Reaching into the holl the toilet left in its wake, Gabe pulled out a single black, plastic case. Placing it on the sink, Gabe opened the laches. Inside was a single pistol and two prepped magazines. It was a sleek, black beast that had considerable heft to it as he picked it up. “Ain’t no machine pistol like a Deus Ranger.”

Rolland groaned painfully. “Look... We’re friends. We’ve scratched each other’s back plenty of times. But if you’ve gotten into something I need to know about, I need to know now.”

“No one knows who I really am. Those fucktards botched a job and I’ve lost the—”. Gabe haltered mid-breath. Did something...? He shook it off. Now was not the time, and he was out of time to hold Rolland’s hand. “No one knows my name. We’re good. Everything they find here will leave them hanging. I’ve made sure of that.” Gabe slipped a mag into the Ranger and it clicked pleasingly. Slipping the other mag into his pocket, he holstered the pistol.

“Fine... I’ll call you back with an address.” As if eager to be done with him, Rolland end of the line went dead.

This isn't one of the ones that I am responsible for doing the art is it? Is this the one with the arcology or the proposal? Or neither?

4033366
PMed.

I hope you all will enjoy what's coming. It's taken a little longer than we all would have liked, and a few things still need to be worked out *cough*shiro*cough*

Hey, I'm working on it .

4033366 This is the arcology one.

4033405 Aye, better get my butt in gear and deliver!

4033504
I'll just blame shiro anyway if it makes you feel comfortable.

4033506 I get that at work every day, so I'm used to it

4033506
4033520
Hold on, are you blaming him for something new? 'Cause you are already blaming him fer things. I missed something here.

4033624
I just blame him for everything; it makes my life easier. Stubbed toe. Low gas. There's a spider near the door.

4033628 I had to defeat a spider today in my bathroom. It was a fierce battle. Shiro must surely know that his minions are no match for me
*Le blame

4033635

4033639 Yes, that is exactly what was going through my when I discovered it to be within four inches of my hand when I first noticed it. Absolutely zero squeals of manliness were generated.