Chapter 14
Chapter 14
“………”
“………”
“I…I don’t know what… what to say…”
“Then don’t say anythin’… Ah mean, you don’t need too…”
“But… I mean… look at them…”
“I wouldn’t have gone any different either way. You didn’t have anythin’ to do with it.”
“………”
“………”
“Thanks…”
“Don’t mention it sugarcube…”
64 POV
Applejack and I were now at the grave of Orange Grove, whose death was once blamed on me by Celestia. Now the truth was clear, and Orange family was now grieving openly at the massive grave. The size of the tombstone was a bit more than average, and instead of it being a placard in the ground, it was protruding upwards, a portrait excellently capturing the dead filly on its surface.
An inscription read, “Although Her Body Is Gone, Her Flame Will Live On”. She was a very bright filly, and often radiated happiness to all who knew her. She died at the age of 12, and all who knew her felt as if a part of them had been taken along with them. I didn’t even know her very well, yet I felt as if a part of me had died that day too. I had witnessed my first real death up close that day, and all I wanted to do was scrub it from my memory.
All I wanted to do was cry and cry and try to tell the crying family in front of me that it was all my fault, but Applejack was holding me back from doing so. She had known her while she lived in Manehatten for that short week, and when word of her death got to Ponyville a few weeks later, she nearly ran all the way back.
“She always wanted to do mah mane up in a bunch of little frilly curls. Ah remember when ah was jus’ a filly after hearing about this, that’s all ah wanted to let her do. Ah never let her, but gosh darn it now ah wished ah let her.” Applejack cried quietly. This was hard on everypony here, and I started to let some of the guilt get to me. Years had passed, yet the pain of her family was still burning hot.
The Orange’s crying began to die down, unable to continue like they were.
“I… I…I want to thank you from coming out with us today 64.” Aunt Orange told me, making give her a sad smile. “I…I wish we could have met on better terms, but I’m glad you brought our daughter back to us. We might have never found her.”
“I understand. I also know this… is more of a family matter, and a lot of unwanted memories are being resurfaced. I’ll leave your family to grieve today. I’ll find somewhere in the city to hole up for the night, and tomorrow morning I’ll come by to pick up Applejack from the train station. Have a good evening Mrs. Orange.” I said, nodding respectfully.
“Thank you, and a good evening as well.” She replied before turning back to her husband and leaning on his affectionately.
This was one part of life I wished didn’t have to exist, but it’s a heavy truth. Death was necessary evil, needed to allow the new to replace the old. But when a young life is forcibly ripped out of somepony’s hands, that’s when the horrible truth sets in. Death could happen to anyone at any age, no matter how skilled, no matter how brave. All it took was one wrong decision, one wrong turn in life to send you 6 feet under.
I walked away from the grave to leave the families grieve in privacy; they had no need for another bystander. I pulled up my hood and decided to go somewhere I hadn’t gone for a long time, my Outpost at the top of Vanderhoof Tower. It had been a long time since I had seen that place, with me not having to go there for rest or repose it had probably gathered a good amount of dust buildup.
I made my way down the busy streets, now lit up by the lights of the evening. Unlike my last visit I had no need to cover myself up or hide. I could walk right through the town with only strange glares sent my way, and not the yelping and screaming for guards.
The old warehouse where the entrance has hidden still stood, now even more worn down and dilapidated than I had remembered. I stepped inside and looked around, seeing all of the destroyed wooden pallets littering the place. I saw the rusted door which led to the maintenance stairs of the Vanderhoof building and walked towards it, opening it to see that they hadn’t changed since I was last here.
“Ah…… memories……” I whispered to myself, making the long ascent to the rooftops. After a short long while, I had finally reached the top floor, with me only breaking a light sweat. The store room door was still closed, rust and oxidation clearly apparent on it. It swung open with a light creak, and what I saw made me chuckle.
I still had various notes written all over the walls thinking of ways to kill Celestia once I got my hands on her, and reading them again now made me wonder what a younger version of me would think of me right now. Part of him would be confused and angry, but the other part of him would probably be relieved that I was still alive and no longer living from day to day.
I looked at all of the equipment I still had lying around here, varying from some unused gunpowder, to some old rusty throwing blades. A quiver of a few dozen arrows was still lying there without a bow to use them, and a few schematics of survival gear were written out on a desk in the far corner.
“Hey… I remember some of these…” I whispered, looking down at the crude drawings of the improvised tools I could have used. A poison dart for a makeshift blowpipe, using the berries of the Nightshade Plant to form a toxin which wouldn’t kill right away, but make friends look like foes for a short amount of time. A wing suit for falling from high altitudes and survive, a wrist mechanism… which looked incredibly salvageable…
“Hey… I could still use this…”
I rolled up the large paper and stuffed it into the small satchel pocket attached to my pants, saving it for later. It looked really good, and I would need time to improve the designs to work out any flaws. I quickly rummaged through all of the other stuff, but couldn’t find anything of use besides a few bottles of whiskey that were still good. Drinking wasn’t really my thing, but sometimes after a hard job it was the perfect way to unwind.
I looked out of the window which had an overlook of nearly the entire city, and took a deep breath. I looked down to the alley way underneath me and saw the now empty dumpster. I would usually jump from all the way up here and drop all the way to the filled dumpsters, surviving with only a bump or bruise to show for it.
I really wished I had gone and made that wing suit right now; it would have been so cool to glide all the way to the ground. I could probably have one made by a tailor in Canterlot, but where would the fun be in paying somepony to make it?
I opened the window and took a seat on the edge, feeling the cool rush of the night wind hit my face and clear my mind. I had to agree with Celestia, I shouldn’t be too worried about the Slava gang. Wherever they were, they would show their mugs again someday, there was no way they could just slink back to the shadows.
When they once again reemerged, I would be ready for them, and they wouldn’t stand a chance…
3rd Person POV
Celestia’s sun rose from the horizon, its warmth glowing and awakening the many ponies throughout Equestria. The rays of light rose of Manehatten, and Applejack was rousing from her night’s sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked away the sleep in them, getting up and stretching a bit.
“Well, it was sure nice of 64 lettin’ me tag along, it was kinda nice to see ta’ family again.” She whispered to herself, looking at the vanity mirror in the spare room she was in. she gripped a brush in her hoof and did a quick run through her hair and placed her hat back onto her head, grabbing her saddle bags to make sure she still had the photos which she had gotten from her Aunt and Uncle.
Applejack sighed, “Ah jus’ wish the trip wasn’t so emotionally taxin’, ah could barely stand in front of that tombstone without breakin’ into tears…”
She closed her bag and walked out of her room to the main kitchen, and saw her Aunt already standing there making breakfast.
“Oh hello Applejack, isn’t it mighty early for you to be up and about?” Aunt Orange asked, making Applejack chuckle a bit.
“Oh shucks, ah always get up around this to get the chores done on the farm. Heck, sometimes ah even get up a bit earlier.”
The two had a nice laugh while Applejack started to help make breakfast, breaking up a few eggs to scramble them. She suddenly started to remember something, or more specifically the lack of something yesterday.
“Hey, Aunty? Didja see where 64 went off too yesterday at the cemetery? Ah know he showed up there with us, but ah couldn’t find ‘im anywhere after we left.” Applejack asked, hoping not to get a negative response for bringing up the events of yesterday.
“Oh dear, he walked off after telling me that it was a private family matter. I guess he felt really guilty for everything. Poor dear, I don’t want him to be thinking that any of this was his fault. If anything I should be thanking him for bringing her back nonetheless, but when I did he just walked off. He probably needs some time to cool down before he thinks about it too hard.” Aunt Orange explained, slightly quelling Applejack’s curiosity.
“Did he come back here? Ah didn’t see ‘im asleep anywhere.”
“I don’t think so; I haven’t seen him since the cemetery.”
Applejack shook her head and sighed, “Where does he get off too?”
64 was actually asleep in his Outpost, sleeping on the dusty cot which was placed in there. He stayed up late staring up into Luna’s night sky, laughing at the drawings she was making with the stars. She at first had done very crude drawings of Celestia, and then threw a pie into her face, which she then proceeded to eat. After that there were drawings of him fighting various things, such as Manticores and Giant Spiders, and then there were others like Ghost changing into various ponies.
He finally fell asleep at around 2AM, staving off nightmares of the past which threatened to haunt him. The rays of sunshine were starting to leak into the small room through the window, awakening the sleeping human within.
“God dammit, Celestia… couldn’t have waited 5 more fucking minutes?” 64 grumbled, sitting up on the cot and rubbing his eyes. He realized he had to pick up Applejack and get back to Ponyville later that day, so he got to his feet and made sure he still had the stuff in his Satchel pocket.
“I’d better check on Blusa before we go. She has her train ticket for the end of the week, but I want to make sure she doesn’t need anything else…” 64 said to himself, making the slow journey down the maintenance stairs.
He wanted to talk to Grey Streak one last time too, just to make sure if he was up for letting Blusa stay with him. He was getting pretty emotional last night, a far cry from what he had seen him 2 months ago, so he might have not meant everything he said.
Back onto the chilly streets 64 sent magic throughout his body, make a faux heater. The cold never really bothered him, it just felt so different to what he was now used to feeling all the time. His magic was the pure power of Super Nova, who took power from the sun, so it was only natural that he had a constant warm feeling in him, so whenever he had to deal with the cold early morning air, it hit him like a ton of bricks.
“I shoulda bundled a bit more…” 64 muttered, rubbing his heated hands up and down his arms. He eventually reached Grey Streak’s Creations and opened the door, seeing Grey knocked out on the counter with small cage looking creation on the counter. 64 delicately grabbed the small trinket and looked closer.
He saw that there was a small bird crafted within the cage, perched on a small bar within the cage. 64 looked down to the sleeping Grey and looked at the wings on his sides, but also noticed something else which was wrong.
He had no cutie mark. Grey Streak, the 24 year old stallion, had no cutie mark. 64 wasn’t one for staring at some stallion’s ass, but for some reason this confused the hell out of him. The oldest he had ever heard of somepony gaining a cutie mark was 17, and that was after a mare realized she could kick the shit out of the assholes who were bullying he in school for so long.
“What the hell?” 64 muttered to himself, wanting to wake up Grey so he could ask him about his strange predicament.
“If you are gonna keep starin’ at my ass then you better get the fuck outta my shop…” Grey Streak muttered, looking up a 64. Not even fazed, 64 blurted out his next words.
“How in the fuck do you not have a cutie mark? Look at this cage you’ve made! It’s magnificent! How do you not have a cutie mark in craftsponyship are something?” 64 asked, making Grey roll his eyes.
“It’s like I said, I don’t gotta like what I do. Plus what if this gig ain’t my special calling? What if I’m just super fucking good at it but the universe wants me to do something else? The way I see it, I can choose what I want to do in life, I don’t need no cutie mark to tell me what I’m destined to be.”
That sentence made absolutely no sense to 64. Even though he was physically incapable of receiving a cutie mark, he understood the science, or magic, behind them. They were physical representation of what your calling in life is. Everypony gained one sometime in their lives. It was unheard of for a pony to die of old age without a cutie mark.
“Whatever man. I just came here to tell Blu that I’m leaving today and see if she needed anything else. I also wanted to ask you, are you really up to let Blusa stay here a week?” 64 asked, making Grey wave his hoof.
“I got this. You think I can’t care of myself? I’ll be fine, but go ahead; she’s in the guest room in the back. Make a left at the first hallways and it’s the 2 door on the left.”
64 nodded and walked behind the counter, seing the workshop Grey Streak had. He was in the process of building what looked like a mini chariot, complete with metal figurines of Celestia and 4 Royal Pegasi guards.
64 followed Grey Streaks directions and saw that the door he had described was ajar, and he could see Blusa sleeping soundly. He really didn’t want to bother her, so he decided to wait awhile and see when she woke up.
He turned to go back to the shop area, but noticed a door which had a magical lock. Instead of it just being a standard magical lock, which 64 could easily just overload, it was powered by a Sound Stone. These set off alarms which signaled if they were being tampered with. Nopony used these unless they had something big to hide, and 64 was suddenly determined to find out what was behind the door.
He turned his head down the hallway and saw Grey was nowhere in sight, so he went to pick the lock. He sent magic into the tips of his fingers and started to deactivate the Sound Stone. He had to find the small rune symbols covering the stone and overload them in a specific pattern. As he looked at the runes trying to find a pattern, he saw that it was musical notes.
64 saw the pattern and got to work, using his magic to overload the first 16th note symbol. He continued to overload the symbols rising in time, moving to the 8th note, quarter note, half, dotted half, full, and finally dotted full note.
The Sound Stone deactivated with a low whirr, its small glow darkening. 64 then proceeded to simply overload the remaining lock and quickly went inside, glad to find that Grey Streak hadn’t seen him. He looked inside and saw it was a simple storage room, containing the many tools that Grey used to make his masterpieces.
“Well that was a waste of a lock out there… if anything the special one arouses more suspicion…”
64 scanned the area to see if could find anything, and his eyes eventually fell onto a small chest in the back corner of the room. It had a simply tumbler lock, which 64 had no trouble picking. He lifted the lid of the chest to find a small bag inside, no bigger that 64’s fist.
“What the…?” 64 muttered to himself, grabbing the bag and tossing it up and down in his hand. It had a small tie at the top of the bag, and after undoing it, 64’s eyes widened. It was a Purified Rhyolite Stone, 200 times more potent than it’s unrefined predecessor. This was on a Search and Capture list that Celestia had issued shortly after 64’s employ, and here it was in the possession of a craftspony in Manehatten.
64 quickly stuffed it into his Satchel bag and looked around some more, seeing more and more of these small chests in the room. Each of them were filled with a large amounts of bits, much more than an average craftspony was supposed to be making. 64’s mind was racing at this, wondering what the fuck was going on.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Grey Streak said, now standing behind 64. 64 quickly spun around and saw Grey standing there, the door wide open.
“What the fuck is all this?! Why the fuck are you in the possession of a Purified Rhyolite Stone!? And what the fuck is with all of these Bits?” 64 swore, making Grey turn around and quickly shut the door. He and 64 had a long stare down, wondering who was gonna make the first move.
“I’ll tell you… but I swear if you say a damn word about it I will drag to you the pits of Tartarus myself…” Grey threatened, not wavering 64 in the slightest.
“Fine, now answer my question.”
Grey Streak grunted and put his head down.
“Remember what I said about me not being the universes bitch? How I am more than capable of deciding my own destiny?”
64 nodded slowly, still tense.
“I used… I’m stressing the word used… USED, to work in the Equestrian Black Markets… It was way before Blusa got kidnapped… and I was the reason for it…”
64 continued to listen to the story, now even more suspicious.
“I work on making weapons, swords, maces, vehicles, anything needed to do bad in this world… once I began to get cold feet about everything, I told my boss that I was leaving… for good… He told me that wasn’t going to be possible, but I did anyway… 2 days later, Blu was kidnapped from Las Pegasus by ponies hired by my boss, and sold into slavery…”
64 was now a less bit tense, but had a question. “So that’s how you got the Purified Rhyolite, your work in the Black Markets?”
Grey nodded slowly.
“The reason I got cold feet was because one night I had a vision. It was me getting my cutie mark the next day. It was gonna be a skull and crossbones, but with a hammer and wrench as the crossbones. I knew that I would become the universes bitch unless I got of there, so I did. I nearly killed myself when Blusa had gotten kidnapped all those years ago, but I knew that she was a fighter, so I did the same. And when you came here 2 months ago… it was like my fucking world had gotten its light back. I kept the Rhyolite Stone here just in case my old boss decided to come knocking, so I could level the entire place with the both of us in it.”
64 looked down at his Satchel and pulled out the Rhyolite Stone, gripping it in his hand. He wondered what would happen if he let Grey Streak keep the stone. Celestia wanted it back so it could be rightfully laced in the Treasury, but Grey needed it for a last resort against the ponies who were hunting him.
“Do what you want with it, I won’t stop you.”
64 looked down at the Stone.
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I wonder how 64 would react to my OC, Shadowfire.
I'd link it, but I'm using Xbox internet.
3927243 Why would he react?
3927244 Shadowfire is an amnesia-stricken pegasus which as a result of a stray piece of flawed magic can manipulate fire, but when he tries to create it, he gets everything ranging from migraines, to nose bleeds, to black outs.
The only memory he has ever regained is that of his little sister, Rose Starlight, whom he is aggressively protective of.
His cutie mark is a spanner behind a comet's tail, but before his incident, was a spanner behind several other tools, to represent his kill as a patentist. He has a PHd, but refues to be called 'Doctor.'
Did good work on Grey, dude.
Where's my OC? Hehe Jk most of mine are from like over 1,500 ago.
Deep, that was deep.