Super-Villainy for Fun and Profit

by AtrenGraves

DIY Lairs for Every Occasion

I'm not an 'outdoorsy' pony. Cities, those are great, gimme concrete and blacktop and nobody being able to drive because there’s too much traffic. Heck, I don't even mind dirt. And grass is okay once and awhile.

It's the bucking trees that are getting to me.

“And that is getting on my la-hrgk!” I cough, fall on my flank as I try (and fail) to back away from the low-hanging branch I'd just run into. Then I get to enjoy the experience of spitting out the bark and leaves and junk that I'd stripped off the damn thing when it smacked me in the mouth.

“Grrrr...” I glare at the offending branch, and tear it down with my magic...when that's not enough, I turn my attention to the wretched tree that spawned it, spend almost a minute trying to figure out just how to 'grab' it so I can yank it out of the ground and tear it into kindling! Things get kinda blurry, after that, but when I do manage to calm down a little more I get to appreciate the pile of scorched wood arranged in front of me.

For a little while, at least. Then I remember that this is just one tree. And there's about sixty bajillion more in this heckhole of a forest.

And unlike the 'White Tail Woods' where I showed up, there aren't any convenient paths or clearings to make things easier on me. I'd murder an innocent family for a path right now.

...wait, I can think 'I'd murder a bunch of random ponies', but not an applebucking swear word? Are you...I...what!?

“GRAH!”

Well, that's two down. Sixty bajillion minus two. Take that, nature.

“Enough. No more wrecking trees. I'm here for a reason, darn it. So I'm just gonna pull myself together, and keep moving. Yup. That's the plan. Anybody have a problem with that?” I wait, and sure enough, there's that cricket. I blast the general area that the sound is coming from, wait patiently as the dirt and burning twigs settle...blessed silence. “That's what I thought.

I start walking again.

Three days in pony-land, and I think I'm starting to adjust. Tree-burning and homelessness aside. I didn't even freak out when I ate that daisy sandwich, earlier. So this? This is easy. Easy like Sunday morning. Or something to that effect...why are Sunday mornings supposed to be easy? Does it matter? Do ponies have a 'Sunday'? I haven't seen any calendars yet...for all I know they don't even have a seven da-

Thunk

“Ffff-”

Tree. Trees are the true form of evil. Springing up in front of unsuspecting ponies and bashing them in the face...

“Ooowwwiiie.” I sniffle...to test my snout, of course. Make sure the tree didn't break it or anything. “Stupid nature. What am I even doing out here?”

Oh, yeah...

---

Earlier -

---

“Ya think we should wake'er up?”

“I dunno. Maybe we should go tell somepony...

“Are you crazy? My sister would get us all grounded for a month!”

“No way! Rarity couldn't manage that!”

“Could too. Apple Bloom knows what I'm talking about.”

“...yeah, Ah gotta go with Sweetie on this.”

“Ugh. You guys-”

“Aren't very quiet, for ponies who are trying not to wake somepony up.” I finally open my eyes, shifting to get my hooves under me...yelp and accidentally bite the inside of my lip as my attempt to stand results in the top of my head smacking into the lantern hanging down from the ceiling of my little 'shelter'. “Son of a-” Great start...and cripes, my neck. I really shouldn't get in the habit of sleeping on the ground. Floor. Whatever.

Wait a second. These fillies are familiar. “You three?” How the heck did they track me down? “What're you doin' here?”

The three in question share a look, which is quite an effort considering the way they’re bunched up in the little door. “Uh...this is our clubhouse?”

Oh. Yes, well. That’s a good reason, I suppose. “And it was so gracious of you to allow your new Evil Overlady to stay for the night.” Though it really could have done with a pillow or something. Maybe some blankets. A toothbrush.

Good gravy I could use a toothbrush.

“We didn’t let’cha stay here.” Apple Bloom frowns up at me. “We didn’t even know you were here!”

I wave it off, because it really is too early to try and make up some kind of convincing argument against that. “Details, details…”

“Wait.” Sweetie Belle looks thoughtful (then annoyed, as Scootaloo finally gets fed up with being scrunched and wriggles her way into the ‘clubhouse’ proper). “Why’d you stay here last night?”

Hmmm, how best to put it…

“Oh, oh! Were you going to meet up with us to talk about henchponying but you fell asleep?”

That from a suddenly-much-too-close-to-me Scootaloo. I take a moment to back away. Not easy, considering the close confines. “Ahem...yes. Absolutely. That is what I did.”

And just like that, I have a tiny but attentive audience arrayed in front of me. Grinning and eager and sweet baby jay I can feel my teeth rotting.

“Well then. Since you’ve all finally arrived...the first order of business, if your business is Supervillainy.”

Um…

Hmmm…

Oh!

I narrow my eyes, and offer up my most eeevil smile. “A secret lair.”

---

Now -

---

Right, okay. New rule. Don’t crowdsource housing ideas if your crowd consists mostly of excitable twelve-year-olds. Or however-old-fillies-of-that-age-are.

I groan, grab a couple of branches with my not-so-handy but definitely dandy magic to shove them out of my way. “C’mon! How hard can it be to find a giant castle in the middle of the w-”

Crack-Thwack!

That was one of the branches snapping at its base, and hitting me right in the flank. The end result is...some panicked whinnying, directionless bucking, and quite a bit of fire.

...I really don’t want to talk about it.

So here I am. Panting, irritated, bucking twigs in my mane, and all I have to show for it is some scorched earth and a couple of wrecked trees...oh. Yeah.

“That definitely looks like a castle.”

I knew my exceptional sense of direction would serve me well. Oh, and it looks wonderful. Crumbling stone, a true ruin...ominous and foreboding, surrounded by mist and moody lighting. There’s just...one...little problem.

That being the chasm separating me from my goal. And the rickety, half-ruined rope bridge that leads across it.

“I could just turn around and go back to the clubhouse.”

In theory. Like, it’s entirely possible that that’s a thing I could do. Absolutely. I don’t necessarily have to cross that...death-trap of a bridge, over that very deep, very disturbing crack in the ground. I could do that.

“Ehhhnnnnggg…”

I step, very carefully, onto the first plank. It creaks audibly, the whole bridge shifting in the breeze.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeee-”

And then I...scramble like mad to get across as fast as possible oh buck oh sugar oh motherbuckingheck that board just snapped aaaaaaahhhhhhhh

Oh, hey, I’m on solid ground again.

I take a few, completely normal gasping breaths, take a moment to pull myself together because this is...a moment of triumph, yes, because my lair-to-be is right there. Very good. Very lair.

Now...now I’ll just need to figure out how to get inside.

Maybe after a short break. For reasons.

(oh holy heck, that was terrifying)

---

The way in turns out to be a very large set of doors. The wood is half-rotted through, which isn’t very useful, but it definitely makes getting rid of them easier. Except now I’ll need to figure out how to get rid of a whole bunch of wood ash. Hmm. Well, at least all those metal fixings are still useful. Probably. Maybe. I mean, they’re still mostly shaped like they’d been before.

Whatever. The important thing is, now I’m inside. Now I can actually explore a little bit.

Where to start, where to start? There are open archways leading off the...lobby? Is this a lobby? What do you call the entryway of a castle? Eh, whatever, not important. I could just pick one of those...or maybe head upstairs first.

Or…

“Meh.” I hang right, and trot fearlessly into the nearest archway. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

---

Kerthunk.

“Ow.” Okay. Yeah. Fine. “Trapdoor.” I consider the walls for a minute...then pull one down and trot out into an open corridor. “The castle has traps.”

That is…

“Eeeee, this place is so bucking perfect!”

---

“Oh my gosh.” There’s a goshdarned pipe organ. And while I can’t really do anything but mash at it with my hooves...well, I can make that work.

So yeah, maybe I change into my new dress and spend an hour or so flaring my skirts dramatically and pounding out dramatic noises on my new pipe organ. And if I maybe make up a monologue or two while I’m at it, that’s just...practice.

Practice makes perfect, right?

---

Ooo, hall of armor. Ponies have full plate, apparently. Dark, ominous, spiky armor. Dark, ominous, spiky, heavy armor.

“Oof.” Very heavy. Wow. Okay. Gonna magic that off. And probably I won’t be adding it to my ensemble any time soon. Still, it’s nice as far as decorations go.

Is that a creepy tunnel? Nice.

---

So the creepy tunnel is a way back to the lobby place. Cool. Now I can head upstairs. Past the tattered banner things (very nice, but the sun-and-moon motif is gonna have to go), up-up-up the stairs...there’s a balcony up here looking over the lobby, very nice...actually, perfect.

Heroes come in the front, I’m up here to meet them. “Hellooo~!”

‘Helloooo~’

Oh yes, those are some nice acoustics. When I belt out an evil cackle, it echos back twice as terrible. Had I mentioned this place was perfect? Because it was gosh-darned perfect.

---

So many books. Ugh, why would anyone have this many books?

I sneeze, snuffle, grimace as I back out of the dusty library and slam the door shut. Yeah, so maybe not everything about this place is awesome, but whatever.

---

“Hmmm.” Scorch marks on the floor, broken stone bits, rearing statue, shattered windows, crumbling pillars...some serious junk went down in here.

A dark and troubled history, huh? Maybe I’ll be able to co-opt that. Will have to consider.

Something for later, though.

---

And this would be the throne room. Two thrones, side-by-side...still with the Sun and Moon thing. Didn’t mix ‘n match mention some kinda princess or something that controlled the sun? Guess this used to be her digs.

Welp. Finders keepers. Obviously, she doesn’t spend much time in this place, so she doesn’t get to complain when somebody else moves in.

Gonna have to do something about this setup though. The thrones are raised, side-by-side, but I’m not sure how well I could fit something in the middle bit that connects them...also, wait, those are thrones. Like...not-pony thrones. How do they-?

I trot over and, with a little effort, pull myself up onto the...surprisingly comfortable cushion. Blue isn’t really my color, anymore, but there’s nobody around to play critic…

Okay. So I’m just sort of sitting. And it works. Go figure.

“Ponies are weird.”

So, throne-design. Another thing on my to-do list.

Still, I need to find…

---

...a way back in, apparently. Which isn’t what I was looking for, but there was another trap door and a very long slide and I’m just really not happy with that. Dammit. Still, now I know where it is, and also where there’s a very spiffy courtyard. Not sure what I’d use it for, but heck, if I’ve got one I’ll probably find a use for it. Right?

That’s how that works, I’m pretty sure. It’s like having a backyard, or a garage. Wait, is it literally like that? Are courtyards the junk-storage of castledom? I feel like maybe I should have read up on medieval housing practices…

A malevolent chuckle echoes through the courtyard. It wasn’t me.

Actually, it was the pony-shaped shadow drifting along just out of the corner of my eye. It disappears through a wall.

...ghost.

The creepy castle is haunted.

Did I...did I mention this place is perfect?

---

“Bedroom!” Yaasss. This is what I was looking for.

It’s pretty dusty in here, too, but that’s an easy fix; open the windows, magic a blanket into the air...then stand on the other side of the door and go wild with it. Flap-flap-flap-flap-flap...heheh. This is actually kinda fun!

Still, have to stop eventually. And I did a pretty good job, too! There’s some scattered leaves and a couple books or journals or something that blew open and lost some pages, but there’s not so much in the way of dust anymore and that’s all I really care about.

Well that, and the bed. Oh, this bed. Let me tell you about the bed. It’s soft. It’s clean, somehow. It smells very faintly of moonlight, which is kinda weird but I don’t really care because buck it’s so comfortable.

Maybe magic ain’t so bad.

At some point, I’m going to have a whole lot of work to do, getting my not-so-shiny lair in order. But for now?

For now, it’s naptime.

Author's Note:

A short chapter to get this thing up and running again. Though I may stick with this length as time goes on and as things inevitably take a turn for the snappy and minimally developed.

Comments

[Buckwood]

Well, short's fine so long as you update consistently, but your update schedule looks about as good as mine, so I'll just sit over here being a kettle.

[Queensarrow]

I'm kinda curious about how much she remembers the Evil Overlord List, or if she even read it at all. If she didn't, maybe she could start compiling one of her own?
Looking forward to more.