I was thinking about it, and thought posting this might be of general interest.

A long time ago, there was a thread in a group where someone wanted people to post their Oc's to battle each other. I'm unclear on the details, really. I'm assuming the two people battling would collaborate on a story about their characters fighting or something.

It seemed silly to me, and must have to Elric as well, as he posted a black and red alicorn to the thread. I felt like joining in, so I responded by posting an orphaned filly with asthma for him to fight. We went back and forth for a little bit, got downvoted a bit, and were told to quit it by people with no sense of humor.

We remembered the characters, though, and thought it'd be fun to see them together in a story at some point, though not necessarily fighting each other. We talked in pm about doing a collaboration, and started roughly piecing together a plot, loosely inspired by "The Professional".

As it happens, we both had a fair about of time available when we were talking about it, and we both went into a blank google docs document and started alternately writing and editing what the other was writing while discussing things, and we ended up writing about 2k before stopping.

Then we absolutely never went back to it, and the collaboration died, though both of us talked about it every so often, and I wrote a paragraph or two of the next chapter.

For anyone that's interested, though, here is what we had written.

--arcum42

It was noon in Edgytown, which meant that it was slightly less dark than usual. The weather alicorns of the city kept the sky shrouded in dark clouds and the maze-like streets filled with fog at all times. The deep booms of the vile music known as “thudstep” echoed in the distance. There was, as usual, the smell of something unpleasant burning. The color black covered nearly every surface, except the ones splashed in vivid shades of red.

The clock in the town hall chimed twelve times. Snidely Mustache looked up from his paper, nodded, and headed for his appointment, drawing attention to himself by walking normally instead of skulking. Various interesting bystanders lurked in the alleys as he passed by, smoking foul substances and doing shady deals. It was a typical day in Edgytown.

A breeze blew, carrying with it the smells of rotting corpses and baking cookies. Mustache winced, knowing with certainty that the cookies, in a place like this, would be the kind with raisins in them.

He held down his top hat to keep it from being blown off his head and continued to his destination. Within minutes, he was within sight of the sign showing a lovely winged and horned mare covered in black censorship bars and winking. It was said there was nowhere else in Equestria quite like the Inappropriately Attired Alicorn, and now he would see it for himself.

The pub's interior was a single large, round room with numerous alcoves set into the walls. In each alcove was a table, and at most of the tables sat mysterious hooded figures, each with their back to the outer wall. A dead griffon with a dagger in his back lay in the center of the room, being studiously ignored by the other patrons.

Mustache's horn glowed pink, and a slip of paper zipped out from under his hat to a point level with his eyes. Glancing at it, he started counting tables. Just as he finished, he noticed a small numbered plaque above each alcove and realized he had started in the wrong direction. He headed to the one marked as #23.

At table twenty-three, the obligatory cloaked figure sat with a goblet of last week’s vintage of wine in front of him. A long, dark horn poked out from under the hood. Mustache sat across from him and ordered an imported Flutterpony beer from the cute, pink-and-black barmaid alicorn. He spoke. “So. I hear you’re the best.”

The mysterious figure tilted its hooded head. Peering into the shadows, Mustache could see a frown of confusion form on the dark face. “Nopony’s ever said that to me before.”

So much for flattery. Mustache started over. “I hear you’re the best in my price range.”

“Go on.”

“I need a job done. I’m running a business and it’s losing money. The bits aren’t coming in like they used to be, because I’ve become a little too good at what I’m doing. I need to close things down permanently.”

The hood was thrown back by one hoof. Red eyes gleamed in a black face. The alicorn grinned menacingly. “A Going Out of Business sale? I’m good at organizing those. And you’ll probably need someone to help you move furniture, too.”

Mustache stroked his mustache contemplatively, not sure if he was being properly understood or not. “In a manner of speaking. I need you to burn the place down so I can collect the insurance money. And now that you mention it, I’ll probably want you to move one or two things as well.”

“Oh! Right, right. That makes sense. Yeah, I also do the arson thing.”

“Perfect. Let’s discuss details…”

Yawning, Ragweed pulled off her Royal Guard-surplus blanket and felt for the glass she always kept at her bedside table. Picking it up, she peered cautiously at it, looking for spiders. It was hard to tell, because of the dim light, but she thought it was alright. She brought the glass closer and looked into it.

Looking larger than life, magnified by the water in the glass, a tan spider was clinging to the bottom of the glass. She sighed and knocked the spider onto the floor before drinking deeply. It was always something. Those spiders were getting more and more clever.

Hopping out of bed, she pulled the blanket back into about the right position, and opened the dingy curtains to let some light into her tiny room. Another day at the orphanage. Still, maybe today would be the day. Maybe somepony would come by and take her home.

She glanced at a mirror on the wall. Well, it was really more like a poorly-polished piece of metal, but she could see herself in it, at least. She pulled out a comb and started pulling her plain beige and light brown mane into braids, and tied them off. A few strokes with a brush took care of her tan coat, and she was ready for another day.

Check that, she wasn't quite ready. She hurried through a small door to the right, and came back a few minutes later, a relieved expression on her face. Now she was ready.

She'd been living at the orphanage for quite a while, and wasn't sure why nopony had adopted her by now. It could have been her plain looks. She'd never be noticed in any sort of crowd.

It also could have been her asthma. The times when she had been noticed were usually ponies looking at her with concern because of her wheezing before her inhaler came to her rescue. But now all the other orphans were gone and it was just her. They'd have to pick her now, right?

Actually, she'd better make sure she was ready, just in case she did have another attack. Ragweed pulled her saddlebags on, picked up her inhaler, and stashed it away where she could reach it easily. She wasn't about to be stuck without it again. Then she trotted out of the room. Time for the morning inspection, though it seemed kinda silly with just her there.

She walked on down the hall and into the main room, where, as usual, Mister Mustache was waiting for her, leaning on his cane. Ragweed wasn't really sure what part of him looked the oiliest. His slicked back black mane was pretty greasy, but then there was his tail and his long curly mustache. His cream-colored coat looked freshly brushed, his golden cane gleamed, and his top hat was immaculate, so she never understood why those other areas looked the way they did.

As he saw her, he straightened up. "Orphans! Attention! Line up!" He pointed his cane towards the wall, and she obediently lined up against a wall, or stood against it, anyway, since there was nopony to line up with.

Nonetheless, he slowly went along the area where the line would be before stopping at the end. He made a show of looking her over, making sure she was properly groomed and even checking her height to see if she'd grown. Not much luck there. She was still pretty small for her age.

"All right! Are you ready to find a family?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Pretend I'm stopping by to adopt a filly and have just seen you."

She looked up at him with big brown, pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

"Good, good. Are you ready to return my library books?"

That wasn't normally part of the drill. "What?"

"Well, they're almost due, and I have a lot of other things to take care of. You wanted to check out some books anyways, didn't you?"

"Maybe. Um, shouldn't I get some breakfast first?"

"Right, I suppose."

She stood still, waiting. After a moment, he noticed she was still there.

"Ah yes, dismissed. There are some waffles in the freezer."

Having gotten what she was after, she let herself relax, and went over to the kitchen. Grabbing a plain wooden plate, she pulled out a box of waffles and put two into the toaster oven. As she was waiting, she poured herself another glass of water.

Soon enough, the toaster dinged, and she made sure it had turned off properly. It wouldn't do to start a fire. Ragweed tossed the waffles onto her plate, and pulled a fork and knife out of a drawer. She wished she had something to put on the waffles, but, as usual, she had to make do with what she had. She sat down and started in on them.

So she had to return his library books? Today didn't sound very promising either, then. If she wasn't here, she could hardly get adopted. Still, it was pretty boring in the orphanage, and she could use some new books to read. And maybe she'd get adopted tomorrow. Or somepony at the library might want to adopt her. It was unlikely, but it could happen.

She looked mournfully at the crumbs on her plate that were all that was left of her waffles. Mister Mustache wasn't bad, but he had a very strict budget. She never really felt like she got quite enough to eat.

Rinsing the plate off in the sink and leaving it to dry, she returned to the main room. Mister Mustache seemed to be busy picking things off of shelves and putting them in his briefcase, for some reason. Seeing her, he just gestured to a table with a stack of books with his cane.

Ragweed sighed, and started loading down her saddlebags with books. Why did he need all these heavy financial books, anyway?

"Okay, Mister Mustache. I'll take your books on down to the library, and I'll be back soon."

At that, he looked even shiftier than usual, and even looked vaguely guilty for a moment.

"Don't rush on my account. Take all the time you need. In fact, maybe you can get a few books for me while you are down there."

He gave her a handwritten list. Glancing over it, the books he wanted seemed even stranger. Wilderness survival guides? Tips and tricks to starting your own business from the ground up? A Filly Scout Handbook?

But if he wanted them, she'd better get them for him. This was probably going to take hours.

"I'll be back in a few hours with your books, Mister Mustache. See you then."

"Right. See you soon, kid. Take care of yourself."

With that, she headed out the front door, and walked slowly to the library, saddlebags full of books.

*** chapter break ***

Ragweed hefted her heavy bag, put it on her bag, and walked out from the library. It'd taken even longer than she'd thought to locate all those library books Mister Mustache had wanted. She'd eventually managed to locate the last of them. <clever title needed>

Maybe she'd take a different path back to the orphanage today. She turned down a side street, whistling a merry little orphan song as she went.

Prancing down the path, eyes closed, she hesitated, then stopped when a familiar tickling sensation met her nose. She opened them and looked around to find herself surrounded by flowers. Ragweed belatedly realized why she normally didn't take this particular path.

She sneezed, and then sneezed again. Rooting quickly through her saddlebags, she pulled out a handkerchief, tied it around her face, then ran forward as fast as possible with all the books in her pack. Running wasn't a really good idea when she was likely to have an attack, but she needed to get away from those flowers as quickly as possible.

Her sneezing started to slow down, and couldn't smell the flowers any more, so she stopped and wiped at her watering eyes. She should be about at the orphanage now.

Opening her eyes, sure enough, there was the orphanage. Only it wasn't usually all on flames like it was now. As the smoke drifted her way, she began wheezing, then pulled out her inhaler and frantically sucked on it, lost to the outside world.

I'll read it later.