Ch 6: Troll Hard
The atmosphere was unusually dire compared to most of my stay thus far. A crowd of worried ponies, some of them friends and family to the hostages, gathered at the perimeter line around the streets in front of the museum held by members of the royal guard. Within that perimeter, soldiers and rescue crews waited on standby around a command tent set up thirty feet (hooves?) away from the museum stairs; the closest the Princesses were willing to set up near the site without risk of antagonizing Maredusa.
Inside the tent stood an impromptu strategy desk surrounded by the Princesses, several commanders, a few city officials, Captain Steelhoof and myself. The group wore grim expressions and even I couldn’t bring myself to joke about anything. On the off chance that the situation required immediate action, I elected to control Marauder’s body while he took a back seat in the unit’s skull in an advisory position.
Well, isn’t that just such an official sounding way of saying you jacked my bod and left me to play cheerleader? Marauder projected sarcastically.
I ignored his whining and turned to the rest of the table, “So, can anybo-er-pony tell me what this Maredusa chick’s deal is?”
“Sir!” an armored zebra from Steelhoof’s Tartarus Brigade sounded off. “During the early rein of the Tyrant Primal Gods, there existed several Priesthoods dedicated to them. They carried out various duties depending on which deities they served: dark rituals, gladiatorial combat or,” the soldier’s face turned a little green as she whispered, “foal sacrifices.”
Eesh. Sounds like happy ponyland wasn’t always so happy.
Is it really that surprising? If you think back on it, there were a lot of ‘civilized’ cultures throughout our old galaxy that started off rough before they became the advanced beings they were. And they didn’t even have the excuse of actual gods, assuming that’s what these Primal creatures were, breathing down their necks. It took millennia of blood, sweat, and trial and error before they made it to their utopian status.
And then we showed up and blew ‘em up, I thought glumly.
Yeah. Good times good times, Marauder thought with a feigned wistful sigh.
Before I could growl an answer back, the soldier picked up her narrative, “They terrorized most of the known world during what historians call Blood Era before the Divine Council, including our own Princesses and the then sane-ish Discord, drove the Primals into Tartarus. With their masters gone, the Priesthood’s days were numbered and they devolved into minor cults consisting of the former Priests and more fanatical followers. They were quickly hunted down or driven into seclusion where their culture eventually faded away, but not before they committed several atrocities. In time, only the leaders remained and they were the worst of the worst. Many of them had been so vile that it was deemed they be sent to join their masters in Tartarus. Maredusa had been one of those. She started out as priestess and, when the rest of her followers died out, resorted to black magics to extended her life and augment her existing powers. She was considered one of worst, if not the worst, monsters of the old cults. It was even said that the reason her followers died out wasn’t from being hunted down but from being sacrificed in a ritual to grant her the power she has now.”
“Well, thank you so much for that spine tingling exposition Night Shyamalan, but that’s not what I asked,” I replied dryly. “None of that explains why this Maredusa thinks she has a score to settle with me.”
The zebra gave me an unamused glare. “My name is Night Shaman, sir. Although,” Night put a hoof to her chin and hummed thoughtfully. Unaware of my shock, she muttered softly “That does sound like it could make for an interesting story premise. I’ll have to work on it during my next shore leave.”
Oh no. What horror have I unleashed on this land of innocence?
Wait, which one are we talking about? Releasing an ancient psycho serial killer from the underworld? Or do you mean inspiring a storyteller to write a possible blockbuster that will lure an unsuspecting public into a resource wasting series of gradually worsening productions and failed potential?
Uh? Maybe both?
Well, just remember to keep your priorities straight, Jeff, Marauder assured silently. First we stop the writer and then we kill the psycho.
Wouldn’t those priorities be considered backwards?
Ugh. Fine! Marauder grudgingly conceded, First we stop the psycho and then we kill the writer. Happy?!
Ummm.
Hey! After everything you have put me through I need to kill something right now. It would be problem solving and therapeutic.
We’re…really going to have to talk about your problem solving methods after this.
I turned my attention back to Shaman who went from contemplative to hesitant as she resumed her explanation. “One of Maredusa’s crimes, or ‘dedications to the Old Masters’ as she would say, would be to sneak into a high traffic area. At a critical moment, she reveal herself and initiate a curse via her gaze to petrify the crowd. While the Princesses could lift the curse themselves, they would often find that several of the statues would be smashed: parents to foals or vice versa, one of two lovers, anything that caused the most pain to the survivors. We had caught her earlier after a failed attempt to do so as an announcement to Equestria of her return.”
Still think my problem solving needs discussed?
I ignored Marauder’s little insertion, though I would be lying if I said I didn’t share the sentiment, and focused my attention on Shaman. “I’ll agree she’s a piece of work and it’s good that she was stopped, but I still don’t see where I come in.”
“Ah, yes. At to that, well,” Shaman cleared her throat which seemed to have suddenly dried out. “Her target this time was to be a setting with several high-profile targets. The…the Canterlot Royal Playhouse.”
All activity in the tent seemed to freeze and every face went blank. “I see,” was all I could say at first. I don’t like where this is going. “And exactly how was she found?”
“We found her petrified in the front row shortly after the Playhouse had been…hastily vacated. Apparently, when she neared the point of casting her curse, a traumatic event created an emotional backlash that in turn caused the attack to backfire onto herself. Her face was pretty much twisted in horror while facing…the, um…stage.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The action itself might have been a bit redundant as I don’t technically need air anymore but going through the motions seems to help. A little bit. “So, let me see if I understand,” I said levelly as I tried to remain calm. “Maredusa went to see my play and it was so awful that she turned to stone from gazing at it?”
“Well, sir, to be accurate. Umm. That is to say,” Shaman looked nervously back and forth within the tent as if hoping to find a quick escape from the current conversation. Finding none, she turned back toward me with all the eagerness of a prisoner waiting to see if they were about to be walking up the gallows. “Yes?”
Royal guards and Tartarus Brigade members alike struggled to keep their faces blank. Celetia did an admirable job of maintaining her trademark poker face aside from a very brief quirk that tugged at the corner of her lips. Luna, bless her little Goth loving pony heart, had the good grace to look discomforted on my behalf as she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. I‘m functionally immortal and I’m still not going to live this down am I?
Not if I can help it.
I mentally growled at Marauder as Celestia quickly dispelled the levity of the moment by bringing our attention back to the crisis. “Whatever the case may be, Maredusa believes that she has been personally insulted and shows no hesitation in using others to answer that insult.” She nodded to the map at the center of the command table. “She seems to have fortified the whole building with wards against any scrying spells we could use to find any worthwhile intel. We know nothing of the number of hostages, their condition, defenses, or even her general location.”
“There are twenty three hostages in total: five museum guards, the custodian, curator, and sixteen civilians. Seven of them are active while the rest have been petrified. None of the statues have been smashed, thank goodness, but the perpetrator’s history and profile makes it difficult to determine how long that will last. Aside from wards set to block scrying, the hallways are also littered with various traps to restrict troop movement and interfere with spell casting. The perpetrator and hostages are all located within the rotunda that connects the various wings: the hostages are all grouped together against the wall furtherest from the exits and Maredusa has been pacing just in front of the group insuring that any use of the entrances or attempts to grab the hostages will occur well within her line of sight.” By the end of my report, every eye in the tent was directed at me. The guards and Tartarus Brigade members, likely having dismissed me as an idiot until now, were staring at me in slack jawed wonder.
Even the ever stoic Celestia was caught off guard. In a rare show of surprise, she slowly blinked twice before she could speak. “And how could you possibly know all of this?”
“Aw come on, Princess! Did you forget already? I can literally be in several places at once!” I ignored the Sun Princess’s muttered ‘I wish I could forget’ and activated a command causing three colored holospheres to flicker to life. Each one sounded off as they formed.
“Helloooo!”
“Helloooo!”
“Helloooo!”
Steelhoof snorted at the display and shook his head in contempt. “Excellent. You’re your own acapella group and comedy troupe. Now how does that help us?”
“Ah, ah,” held up a finger to my mandible, “patience oh beefy one. I was just getting to that.” I gestured toward the three holospheres, “These forms are each artificial constructs formed from redirected light patterns. However, just because they are made of light doesn’t mean they have to be visible.” I gestured toward them again and each one faded from sight aside from a small blinking light of matching colors to let the crowd know they were still there rather than dispersed. They all gasped and even Steelhoof had a hand to his chin thoughtfully at the display.
I gestured again to dismiss all but one of the drones before moving on. “The wards inside are anti magic countermeasures designed to detect and dispel any cantrips, runes, or foci used too closely. My tech, however, doesn’t depend on any of those concepts which means my drones can circumnavigate the wards without setting them off. All that’s left is to bend light in the drones’ outer layer and we have invisible eyes.”
“It’s all very well that you have a means to bend the rules,” Celestia broke in worriedly, “but I see a flaw. As we went over your various obligations and glanced through your technology to see how it might react to various magic stimuli, I noticed one binding rule: Whether produced by magic or technology, energy is energy and typically maintains the same properties and reactions. Even if your drones avoid the spells restrictions, won’t the fields generated by the large number of wards interfere with any connection you try to keep with them?”
If the mouth I had now would have supported it I would be grinning from ear to ear. As it was, the best I could manage was offering a thumbs up that no doubt went over their heads. “Ding ding! Point goes to the pretty mare in gold bling!” Some of the guards scowled at my casual manner while Celestia simply rolled her eyes at my antics. “As you said, the energy fluctuations caused by those wards and traps would interfere with my connections causing my drones to lose energy and disperse or send back garbled information. However, they don’t have to be constantly connected. I can actually give them a small charge of energy and send them to operate independently on basic commands. In this case, I ordered them to covertly gather bits of information from across the museum then return with their findings for me to assemble. Viola!!” I waved my hands and the remaining drone projected a cone of light onto the map. Layers upon layer of data until a 3D transparent model of the museum hovered above the table. The rest of the group stared in awe as I pointed out various lights dotting the model. “Okay, the green dots in the center are the hostages, the one red is Maredusa’s last known coordinates, and the yellow markings are energy signatures indicating traps and wards.”
Steelhoof, having been the first to get over my awesome display of awesomeness, leaned on the table to study the image with an intense stare. “Well color me impressed. I can think of a dozen missions that this trick could have been a boon. As it is though,” the minotaur shook his ponderous head and his expression went grim, “I’m not liking the odds suggested my these little markings. A charge from any direction would get our troops shredded by the traps but taking the time to disarm them would alert the witch and endanger the hostages.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already come up with a plan. It involves precision, expediency, and above all subtlety.” My declaration was met with blank stares all around. They turned to meet each other’s gazes for an instant…and then promptly burst into laughter.
Luna was the first to recover some composure. “Oh. Oh dear. Thank thee friend Jeff,” she wheezed out as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Despite the slightly inappropriate timing, that laugh was sorely needed.”
“Indeed,” Celestia agreed before her small smile faded back into a concerned frown, “but in all seriousness, we need to formulate a plan. Those hostages may not have much time.”
“I wasn’t joking.” The a new atmosphere of awkwardness filled the room as stares now directed my way ranged from blank faced to outright disbelief. For the first time since landing here I felt a spike of irritation. “I’m sensing a lack of faith,” I stated dully.
Celestia sighed and massaged her head with a hoof before answering, “Jeff, I do not doubt that your advanced technology could provide precision and expediency. There are a great many words to describe your methods,” she actually paused and closed her eyes in an attempt to hide an eye twitch before muttering, “ many, many words.” She looked up and stared me in the eye tiredly. “I regret to say, though, that subtle is not included within that list.”
“Hey!” I cried indignantly. “Don’t be like that! I can be plenty subtle!”
Pfft. That’s a good one, Jeff. Now pull the other one. It plays ‘Daisy Do’.
Aww come on! You too?! Why does no one believe me?!
Three words, Jeff: Giant. Dancing. Robot.
Hey! Those were extenuating circumstances. I can be gosh darn mother clucking subtle any time I want, frag it!
….the heck was that? In fact, why haven’t either of us been able to curse lately? After those first centuries you became conscious I know for a fact you have an extensive list of expletives from multiple cultures.
It’s one of the provisions in Celestia’s little list of stuff for me to do before I get citizenship. Something about not exposing their culture to too many negative influences or some crap like that. I just went ahead and put a filter on our thought processes. That’s beside the point! I rambled quickly along the mental link, We’re talking about everyone’s lack of faith in my finesse! I can be just as subtle as the next robot!
Uh huh.
In and out without a trace. I’ll be quiet as a mouse and twice as inconspicuous.
Suuure.
I tell you, MS, that Maredusa chick will neeever see me coming.
Now that I can believe.
****
The museum’s rotunda was bathed in darkness. The only light sources were a few braziers that cast a harsh glare around and created flickering shadows as it fell on the nearby artifacts. With a twisted enough imagination, one might envision those shadows to be fiends from Tartarus dancing in celebration of a coming feast. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and whimpering from ponies kneeling near the statues like mourners at a grave site.
Feels like home, Maredusa thought sardonically as her face sneered at the sight and sound of her still animate prisoners. It had been far too long since she just relaxed and enjoyed the ambience.
She paced back and forth both to keep an eye on the hall entrances and to relish in the reactions coming from her conscious victims as they glimpsed her glorious form. Her body was lithe and strolled across the room with all the grace of a wild predator. A saber-shaped jade horn lined in red runes extended from her forehead. Two massive bat wings, both equaling to a total wingspan that reached nearly twice her body’s length, were folded against her side giving the illusion of a cape hanging from her shoulders. In place of a mane and tail, the top of her head to the base of her neck was lined with writhing vipers and her tail was that of a serpent. Her coat sheened with a poisonous green that was slightly lighter colored than the scales on the snakes and tail. Her orange slitted snake eyes reflected the firelight and wicked curved fangs glinted from her cruel smile.
As much as she enjoyed the suffering of her victims, her mood dampened as recent events came to mind and her gaze was once again drawn to the hallways where she expected to hear word of her demands. To hear word of her coming clash with her hated foe: Jeff.
*scratch*
She grimaced as the name flashed in her mind. That miserable wretch! She had been so close, not only to making a grand reentrance to Equus, but ensnaring the Princesses themselves! Maredusa’s plan had included a recently devised spell that, while only able to fire once before needing a long period to charge, would have bypassed the Princesses’ defenses. She came so close only for that trickster to snatch victory from her grasp with that-! That monstrosity! She shuddered as bits and pieces of that horror show surfaced before she suppressed it again.
*scratch scratch*
Maredusa had to admit that part of her was looking forward to meeting this new creature. She had heard many of the stories as she blended with the crowds of the city through her illusions. Some said he was a new god that came crashing from the heavens. He was made of black steel, tall as a mountain, and shook the ground with each step. Others spoke of how he could change form to a terrifying, bipedal soul harvester with a door to the pits of Tartarus in his chest. Others yet claimed that he had no true physical form. That he was actually a spirit of pale flames taken from the very stars. Whatever he was, he would surely prove a foe worthy of the attention of the Old Ones and their followers. Perhaps even more so than the Princesses themselves?
*scratch scratch scratch*
Maredusa snorted and rolled her eyes in disgust at the state of the place. Modern ponies mocked their ancestors for living in caves but at least those caves weren’t allowed to be infested with vermin. This was supposed to be government property! Royal grounds! Well I know the first thing I’m going to do when I conquer these milksops. Institute some decent quality contr-
*BOOM*
Her mental rant/to do list was interrupted as she was hurled through the air along with a mass of ruble by some force from above and behind her. She fell into a heap after her body skidded six feet along the floor. After giving a chance for her ears to stop ringing and her head to stop spinning Maredusa cracked her eyes open to take stock of her surroundings: she was surrounded by chunks of wall, the braziers were extinguished, and the room seemed filled with an eerie blue light. Her eyes shot open and she quickly stood while turning to face her foe.
The wall section above and behind the hostages was blown apart explaining the force that knocked her forward and the rubble that surrounded her. The hostages themselves were tucked safely away in a dome of blue energy that she couldn’t seem to identify. And between her and those hostages? A tall, bipedal figure stood staring her down as the pale light of the shield outlined it and cast a shadow over its form. Its eyes glowed with a baleful glare in her direction.
The sight made Maredusa shiver with excitement. She almost felt like a foal again. Yes! After centuries in combat and countless millennia languishing in the bowls of the underworld, she would finally have a battle worthy of her grace and majesty! It would be a clash that would live in myth and legend! She flared her wings, went over thousands of scenarios in her head, and braced herself for whatever the being in front of her might try.
She still wasn’t prepared.
It posed with one hand on its hip, the other waving an admonishing finger and said in a singsong voice, “Oh Mareduuucy! You’ve got some splanin’ to do.”
****
HECK YEAH! DID YOU SEE THAT, SHIELDS? I blared through the mind link, I SUBTLED THE CRAP OUT OF THAT ENTRANCE!!
Marauder mentally sighed, I think you kind of missed the point of the exercise, Jeff. I will give credit where it’s due, though: I doubt she could’ve seen this coming.
For her part, Maredusa actually did an admirable job of keeping her composure in the face of my randomness. She only stared for a few moments before shaking her head and taking what I assumed to be her ‘fear me’ posture. Her wings flared slightly and the vipers on her head poised as if trying to make herself seem bigger. Her face fixed into a haughty sneer and she stared me down with her snake eyes the same way a cat may have stared down its next meal. “So we finally meet. Two champions: one serving the Old Gods and the other serving the new. Honestly, I’m surprised how much sadism seems to have developed with those Princesses in my absence. Something must have truly warped them to pick such a dark being for their cause.”
I quirked an eyebrow while I tried to figure out what this crazy quadruped was thinking. She giggled and waved a hoof at my confusion as if I had just told a joke. “Come now, Jeff. You needn’t play coy with me. I’ve see your methods first hoof after all.” If I still had lips, they would have been pursed as I tried to think of what she was referring to. I certainly didn’t remember any sort of campaign…?...! No. No, she couldn’t mean-
“That Playhouse scheme was the most devious I had ever witnessed!” she squealed with exuberance. “To think that was the same Playhouse that she gushed during the last age of how it would be a beacon of hope for better days to come! About how it was her dream to bring ponies and their families together! Why, I never expected for an instant she would go as far as to risk running it into the ground just to catch me!”
Aaaaand now I found out I just soiled a millennia old dream. Any feel-good-vibes left from Luna’s pep talk were starting to dwindle. “Could we just skip the whole banter phase and go straight for the brawling?” I sighed tiredly.
“And then the collateral damages!” she went on ignoring my monotone plea. “That pompous solar hack always used to go on about how she valued the safety of her subjects. And then she turns and lets her new champion use nearly two hundred for bait!” She actually giggled this time as she sat back on her haunches and clapped her hooves in delight. “I don’t think a single soul left that night without mental scarring!”
What was that? You want an extra side of shame with that guilt? No problem, sir! Here at Burn King, special orders don’t upset us!
“Seriously, could you please stop talking?!” I gritted out in annoyance to the mad mare in front of me as well as the obnoxious voice in my head.
“Ah, eager to meet my old acquaintances in Tartarus are we?” Maredusa drew herself to her full height. “So be it! Jeff, Last of the Reaper. For your insolence and for tarnishing my glorious return, I consign you to oblivion! Perish!” Her eyes, both her normal ones and the ones belonging to the vipers she used as a mane, glowed orange and glared at me. We quietly stood there gazing into one another’s eyes, no sound except for the hissing of her snake mane.
Eventually, I had to put a hand to my mouth to stifle a yawn. “Yeah, listen. I realize dramatic tension is a big deal for these little scuffles but just how long do we have to stand here? Or is there some sort of cue I should be looking for? Honestly, I’m not all that familiar with protocol for big stare downs.”
The light faded as Maredusa and her serpents blinked in confusion when Jeff started talking. Her confusion quickly morphed to anger and she hissed as she resumed her glowy glare of doom. Once again, we went into another stare down.
And once again, her face twisted into a mixture of confusion and frustration as nothing happened aside from drawing an impatient sigh from me. “Alright, I get it already. I’m very impressed by your ‘hey foals! I’m the monster hiding under your bed’ face. Unless,” my voice went from sarcastic to panicky as my hands quickly went to my face, “is there something on my face? Nooo! Not after going to the effort of buffing and polishing before I got here! How is anypony going to take my hero debut seriously if my picture in the paper has me with a rusted or dented faceplate?!” I put the back of my hand to my forehead in as dramatic pose as possible, “This is just the! Worst! Possible!! Thing!!”
Maredusa actually growled as she let the glow fade from her eyes once again, “What is the meaning of this?! No living thing can witness my focused stare without turning to stone!”-Oh yeah. I forgot that was a thing. Never thought I’d be glad being a machine technically disqualified me from the whole ‘living’ category.-“Well it makes no difference. By the this night’s end, Maredusa shall reign supreme!”
She smiled confidently. “Perhaps this is for the best. After all, it wouldn’t do for warriors of our caliber to end our duel in such a lackluster manner as instant petrification, would it? No, let us fill the night air with roars of bloodlust and battle! Such as it was in the old days and so shall it be when I return this land of mewling weaklings back to the ways of glory and”-
Oh good grief! Does she ever shut up?! Marauder screeched in my mind. Is there some unspoken rule that villains have to tell their life stories and life goals every time they seem someone or something remotely interesting?!
-“and then in the sacred banquets they would feast on the blood of innocents! On the cows and the chickens and the pigeons and the mongooses and the orangutans and the”-
I don’t think so, I pondered as I lumped in Maredusa’s voice along with the background noise. I kept sensors on her, of course, in case she actually got bored of her voice and started something. I mean, Inquisitor never did that and he would’ve counted as a villain, right? In fact, especially for an R and D guy, he was pretty straight forward: He came, he saw, he blew it the frick up.
Yeah, well, Reapers never were that imaginative of a bunch, Marauder mumbled. We both brooded from inside my head as we waited for snake lady to get her drama queen urges out of the way. Well, it looks like she’s going to be a while. Wanna pass the time with I spy?
-“and thus the sanguine sasquatch squadrons sang their sorrowful sonnets”-
Why not? I’m game. You get first go.
Okay then. I spy with my cyborg eye something that starts with…’B’.
You can’t use swear words, MS.
Oh crap. Right. The whole swearing filter. Okay then, something that starts with ‘N’.
Hmmm. Nag?
Got it in one!
We went back and forth like that for a while until we ran out of objects (More specifically, Marauder ran out of derogatory names for Maredusa) and we each went to our own method of self-entertainment. Marauder started playing Galaga, still not sure where he picked that up, and I used the high-speed camera function to take random pictures of Maredusa during her speech. I figure Celly would appreciate some of these afterward. When Maredusa’s gestures started mellowing out in signal that she was winding down, I decided to go ahead turn the input volume back up.
-“and that is how I discovered the secret of Sunny’s cake obsession and her real reason for snoring.”-Wait, WHAT?! I missed something that was actually juicy!? NOOOO!!-“But I digress. The time for speech is over. Destiny is at hoof!” Maredusa pawed her hoof into the ground. “You should feel honored. On this night you witness true power, pretender!”
And just like that, it hit me. Sure, I could just stomp her into the ground or send out an EMP that could knock her out with an overload but she had just given me the perfect way to hit her where it hurts. I crouched in a ready position to start the fight but then dropped it as I burst into a fit of giggles. Those giggles developed into an outright belly laugh that brought me to my knees and caused a stitch in my side. When my convulsions finally subsided I stood and brushed a tear from my eyes. “Wow! I’d almost forgotten what that felt like. Thanks babe.”
“And what, pray tell, did I do to remind you ‘what that felt like?’” Maredusa asked softly. Her eyes were narrowed as she glared at me in anger disguised by a thin veneer of civility.
“Uh. Isn’t it obvious?” I asked dryly as I shrugged then gestured to her. “How ironic is it that I’m being called a pretender by somepony that clearly suffers Princess Envy?”
As if flipped by a light switch, her anger dissipated only to be replaced by wide-eyed shock. She actually blushed and stuttered. “I-I beg your pardon? Just what do you mean by that?!”
“Aww, come on! Are you really going to make me point it out!?” I groaned dramatically. “The signs are all right there! Like those oversized bat wings of yours,” I waved vaguely at the name appendages, “they just scream ‘Hi, world! I’m overcompensating!’”
“HEY! There is nothing wrong with these wings!” she yelped indignantly, even as she tucked them to her side as much as she could. “The gift of flight is beyond useful in battle! And since some of us don’t have **** **** stars to power our magic,”-What the heck Jeff! Did you filter the audio input too? Yup. If we couldn’t use it, no point in torturing ourselves having to listen to others do it when we couldn’t.- “and cheat our way into the air, I had to improvise and make bigger wings to provide more lift.”
“Uh huh,” I muttered unconvinced as I crossed my arms, “and I guess it helped you fly better to have a dark snake mane that waves in the air and has random scales that sparkle blue,” I actually sniggered at that one. “I guess we know which Princess your little filly heart turns green at the sight of, huh?”
All but one of the snakes huddled closer to her skull. The last one sent an exaggerated hiss my way that I strongly suspected was its version of blowing a raspberry. Maredusa actually put a hoof to her mane and started stroking it gently. “Th-There’s nothing wrong with my mane! It resulted from frequent dark magic use and marks my proficiency!”
“Then there’s the obvious horn extension.”
“IT’S A **** FOCUS RELIC YOU LITTLE ****!!” she yelled manically. Her ‘mane’ had started to wave and hiss wildly at the surroundings and little sparks spewed from the horn as the runes on it blazed angrily. “IT ENHANCES MY **** MAGIC BY A HUNDERED FOLD, **** IT!!!”
“And don’t even try to convince me you were born with those long legs and dainty bod. I actually found one other mare like that in this town and, after doing several scans of a few other similar ponies in the country, calculated that it would have taken thousands of years of evolution past your time before the species managed to produce any specimens with those looks. Not without serious magic help anyways.” I had to put a hand back over my mandibles to suppress another guffaw.
“S-shut u-up.” The weird tremble in her voice made me look up and what I saw sent my eyebrow climbing upward. Maredusa, the scourge and fear of all decent ponies everywhere, was sniffling with her head hung low. Even some of the snakes were in on it. She started idly tracing circles in the ground in front of her with her left hoof as she snuffled on, “I-it wasn’t easy growing up with all the expectations! With father always comparing me to his perfect younger child,” she stood on her haunches, pointed her hoof at an imaginary filly, and started speaking with a fake deep voice, “It was ‘Oh Maredusa, what are we going to do with you?’ and ‘Why couldn’t you have some of your sister’s good looks and charisma?’ And ‘If she inherited the position, then we’d probably have the Old Masters out and about by now!’ You don’t know how hard it was living with that before I finally said ‘**** it’ and tossed ‘em down the nearest chasm!”-Awww. Almost makes you wish we had a heart so we could feel for her doesn’t it? - “And if that wasn’t bad enough, my own followers were pining after those whorses! I even walked in on one of them with a picture of sun plot on the wall while he- WHY AM I TELLING YOU ABOUT ANY OF THIS?!?!” She abruptly shrieked as she finally seemed to realize what she was spouting. She stomped her hoof hard enough for cracks to web along the stone floor beneath it. “THIS IS MEANT TO BE AN EPIC LIFE OR DEATH STRUGGLE! I DEMAND YOU STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE!!”
“Well why didn’t you say something earlier? So what kind of foolishness would you like to see?” Seemingly from nowhere, I yanked out a sheet of paper as I promoted, “As you can see, I’ve got plenty of variety! We have slapstick, dark, situational, as well as some-” The roll of paper turned to ash as a finger thin light shot through it and harmlessly bounced off the biotic shield behind me. I looked up at Maredusa who was huffing hard through her nostrils and quickly approaching hyperventilation while her right eye violently twitched. “Uh oh. Looks like somepony~ got up on the wrong side of Tartarus~” I singsonged.
Wait, isn’t Tartarus their version of Hell? Marauder interrupted, Would there even be a right side?
Hmmm, I think that would be Elysium. Or was that a band name? Good question, though. Remind me to ask Celestia later.
Important philosophical debates aside, I looked into Maredusa’s rage filled eyes, the right of which seemed to pick up in twitch frequency, and put on the most serious expression I could. “Well, I suppose that’s enough joking for one night,” I reached behind my back and Maredusa’s aggravated expression mellowed into a more thoughtful one as she noticed the movement. I continued putting all the finality in my voice that I could, “Now the time has come to face the consequnces of your sins.” I whipped out my weapon so quickly that a resounding crack filled the air.
Words seemed to fail her as Maredusa stared intensely at the glorious weapon in my right fist. And stared. And stared some more. She eventually found her voice again to comment, “That…That is a towel.”
“Never…ever…underestimate a good towel,” I growled ominously. “For it is with this tool of hygienic justice-” I grabbed the other end and stretched it out before me as if holding a wall in front of me “-that I shall wipe you out!”
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
….I’m still in program form fully separated from my body, Marauder muttered, and I was hurt hearing that.
I watched Maredusa and was rewarded with one of the best reactions in the night. Forget eye twitching. The whole right side of her face began to spasm. “Die,” she whispered. A ball of energy the size of a marble formed at the tip of her horn. It grew and the smell of ozone permeated the air. “Die die die die die die DIIIIIE!!” When it reached the size of a bowling ball she reared up and stomped forward, flinging it in my direction. A self-satisfied smile crossed her still spasming face as her ball of death hurtled toward the source of her ills.
As for myself? I waited patiently with my linen wall in front of me. I literally counted the milliseconds as I waited and it came closer. And closer. And closer. My mandibles vibrated and I could feel the air humming around me. The air stunk of ozone and I could clearly see Maredusa’s blissful expression past the ball…
And then I thrust my arms forward wrapping the energy ball in the towel and catching it. If somepony had walked in, they might have thought I was cradling a game ball rather than a sphere of energy potent enough to blast through eight inches of reinforced steel. Maredusa’s satisfied look disappeared leaving a disbelieving one and I could’ve sworn I heard her jaw as it hit the floor. “How…H-h-how did? What?!”
My mandibles flared in excitement and I evilly announced, “And now for the return serve!”
The psycho mare’s disbelief made way for panic. Her eyes widened and her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “Oh no. No,” she stood on her haunches waving her forehooves while shaking her head in denial, “no no no no.” I ignored her pleas, or savored them rather, as I pulled my hands apart turning the towel into a slingshot that sent the energy ball flying back at her. “Nononononono!”
*BOOM*
The explosion sent Maredusa flying backwards and crashing through the wall into another exhibit. I lifted my hands and yelled, “Scoooore!” then I turned my head to the right. “And what word from our judges?” At my cue, the three colored spheres from earlier popped up and presented holographic numbers: 9.1, 9.5, 8.9. I stared at the numbers for a moment then shrugged, “Meh, I suppose the execution could use more work.”
“How? How was it possible?!” My head jerked around toward the hole with honest surprise. I didn’t she’d actually be able to get up from that. The smoke cleared and I saw her stomp forward over the ruble. She stood steadily despite the fact that she didn’t come from the blast unscathed. She was heaving air, as were some of the snakes from her mane, and her coat and wings were scorched. Whips of smoke trailed along her body and she was sporting a nasty black eye. How any creature gets a black eye from an explosion is beyond me but oh well. “You wielded mere linen!” she wheezed in a combination of exhaustion and wide-eyed incredulity. “That shouldn’t have been possible!”
Now, clearly, the honorable thing would have been to tell the truth. I could have told her that, back while I was working out some of my depression, one of my drones threaded it with experimental mythril wire. I could have told her that I further reinforced it with a concealed biotic field. But really, where is the fun in that?
I placed one hand on my hip and pointed the other at her in a superhero pose I’d seen in various comics. I yelled in the hammiest voice I could muster, “Your attacks were useless evildoer because you failed to realize that linens-” I twirled the towel around me like a set of nunchucks before holding it in front of me “-is magic!” For the extra effect I threw in a gong sound effect from my audio that resounded throughout the chamber.
I watched as every trace of emotion bled from her face, leaving an emotionless mask. Her head hung low and she stared at the ground as if some piece the ruble may hold the secret to reviving her smashed dreams of glory. Honestly, I would have felt bad if I had seen the look on anyone else as it was what I would have imagined seeing on a kid’s face after some jerk told them Santa Claus was fake for sick kicks. Or maybe even that he died. In this case, however, I had to fight to keep a straight face an avoid laughing my metallic butt off.
After staring at the ruble for a few minutes, she casually flicked her head. A spark flew from the horn and a floating sword was conjured on either side of her. She looked up and, in a voice as dead as her expression, quietly announced, “I’m going to start stabbing you now. I don’t know when I’ll stop.”
“Well, try not to take too long if you can. I’m a busy robot you know: places to see, things to do, possibly more villains to not take seriously.”
“RAAARRRRRRRGGGHH!!!”
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a lack of life leads you to take 5 years on a story?
seems legit
*grins unreasonably wide*
Ah'm gonna start laughin' now, an' I dunno if ah'll ever stop.
man is wrong to feel bad for poor maredusa?
yes just yes
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
getdigital.eu/web/getdigital/gfx/products/__generated__resized/1100x1100/Aufkleber_Trollface.jpg
What villain would he take seriously? He's a 2 kilometer long ultra-villain himself!
… For some reason, I feel like Jeff is purposefully holding off on making his own personal platform just so he can hijack Marauder's body. Would I be right in assuming that?
And why do I feel that Maredusa is an ancestor of Pinkie and/or Rarity? Think about it: over dramatization, rambling, gets a metaphorical (I hope) hard-on at the thought of the Princesses, the blatant disregard for what's really important and instead focusing on the odd detail that shouldn't be focused on? C'mon, tell me you don't see it! Well, the only reason that may not be true is because I really doubt she has the patience to carry a child. Even IF she were to abandon it after it popped out. And I also doubt that any foal would survive the mutations she did to herself. Wait, she IS part of a dark cult, so… Maybe?
Ah, screw it. JEFF RULES, MAREDUSA DROOLS!
ruble -> rubble
Also, LEL
this chapter is comedy gold.
I was actually expecting him to tell her this at the end,
http://m.memegenerator.net/instance/55970778
Yes! This is what I've been talking about! If you want this guy to be even slightly interesting, you have to actually make an effort. Remember when he first showed up? That complete sense of awe from seeing him from the perspective of the ponies? That epic scale created despite the character being rather dull? That entire sense of awe just died when he went to his smaller body, because at that point he might as well be any other HiE. He doesn't even slightly act like the being he currently is, doesn't show (intentionally or otherwise) his capabilities despite his eons of life and knowledge, he's just constantly spouting terrible jokes and trying (while failing) to be witty. But the above? That is perfect for characterization. It is the perfect way to subtly remind the ponies that, current small body or not, he is still an unimaginably powerful and ancient starship pretty much outside their comprehension. This one moment brought that epic sense back by reminding them just what he is. Now he looks at Celestia and goes, "I get the feeling you have forgotten just who it is, exactly, that you are talking to. I may act silly, Celestia, but remember well that my real body is currently outside this planet, but despite that distance there is nothing stopping me from using my full potential." God that is so awesom-
...
He doesn't say that. Does he?
...
That chance to restore any semblance of interesting characterization, to restore that sense of awe and power, just went down the drain. A chance that was practically gift wrapped, and it was tossed aside for a joke (a poor one at that). You know, this honestly makes me curious. Did Jeff himself forget what he is? I don't see any other reason he'd use the "Can be in multiple places at once" explanation, because the reason he can detect everything he did is due to the absolutely overpowered sensors and other such things within the Reaper. It couldn't have been to hide that knowledge, because they already know he is the Reaper, but I just can't fathom any other reason for him to do such a thing. It's just - why?
Also, is this Old Gods thing really needed for a fic like this? Considering the main character just so happens to be a Reaper, physical conflict shouldn't be the main focus (considering he can slap down whatever he wants). Honestly, the main focus should be on him trying to learn more about the ponies and try to fit in (would have been even better without the cheap cop out of giving him a small body to walk around in) while the story would mainly be focused on character interactions and nonphysical conflict. Sure, there could be enemies, but it would need to be clear that there was practically nothing that could harm him. Bringing in some cliche Old God plot (which, I imagine, will be just powerful enough that he can't beat them) just undermines all the other valuable interaction and conflict that would otherwise happen between the interesting characters.
Then again, since I can hardly call Jeff interesting, maybe it's not a big loss.
And this is that chapter that makes me add this story to my favorites. It has now gone from funny to hilarious.
I know that's a reference, but I can't remember what to. Is it Hellsing Abridged?
5781019 My thoughts exactly.
6383873
. Sorry bout losing touch with this. Anway, reference belongs to from TFS's DBZ abridged. Ep 10 prt 1 I think.
eh he he
stomp forward over the ruble.\
There are several locations where you misspelled rubble. That was one of them.
That aside, this was hilarious. You could have done a bit better with the infiltration scene and how awesome that actually is, but the villain fight was truly an epic troll. Thank you so very much for my amusement.
I liked the "It's a spider! KILLL ITTTT" impression she did too.