• Published 10th May 2016
  • 1,945 Views, 422 Comments

The Titan's Orb: Rising Storm - Old Man Dusters



While Callum and the Mane Six continue their quest to find the shards of the Titan's Orb, their path ahead grows only more deadly as they are now stalked by a relentless shadow that will stop at nothing until they are vanquished...

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Chapter Twenty-Four: Blood is Thicker than Water

I didn’t breathe in, I didn’t even blink, it took a few moments to understand what he’d said.

My father, Clifford Horncastle; a good man who had tried to raise me with integrity and appreciation for the trivial things in life. He was a passionate journalist, and loved to travel in his youth. I owed a lot of my values to him, while a parent shouldn’t ever have favourites, he did spend a lot more time with me than with Oliver, knowing I was the more sensitive of the two.
How he ended up with my mother, such a rotten woman, was beyond me, but I supposed that question seemed defunct now, it no longer mattered; he was gone…

I inhaled through my nose, and then twitched my top lip a little.

“How is this welcoming news exactly?” I finally asked.

“Because of what happened afterwards.” Oliver teased.

I raised an eyebrow with curiosity.

“Turns out he never gambled at all. Mum, if you can call her that, never even kicked him out, the whole fucking thing was a ruse. He left on his own accord, they found him in America, South Carolina. He had a journal that explained everything, it’s crazy!”

I blinked twice and shook my head very slightly.

“What now?”

“You heard me, he left on his own accord and fucked off to America, where they found his body in some cabin in the woods, he died of malnutrition. Quite literally starved himself to death, although that apparently wasn’t the exact cause of death, he simply gave up living, according to the autopsy.”

{Died of a broken heart.} Stardust sighed.

“So, what the heck was he doing there?” I asked.

“Taking care of our real mother.”

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“Late stage cancer, she’d been diagnosed a couple days after your sorry ass was born. They basically decided it wasn’t fair to raise two children only for her to die while we were only kids, so they moved back to England and lived separately. Clifford then met our shit spackled excuse for a foster mother, and she agreed to change her surname to Horncastle and raise us with him. She was basically a manipulative slag who just wanted the child support benefits, dad didn’t have a bloody clue until it was too late, and had descended so far into the lie that he didn’t know how to tell us the truth.”

{Nice guy or not, that’s fucked up right there.}

Ignoring Stardust, I let Oliver continue.

“Our real mum battled the cancer for years, but she soon ended up in a critical condition and went back to America to die on her home soil. Daddio went with her, wanting to spend their last moments together, when she eventually died, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her, and quite simply, died.”

{Told you, broken heart.}

“Shit... That’s insane…” I breathed.

“I’m sorry, but that is so incredibly selfish.” Twilight said sternly.

I turned to look at her, and Oliver remained quiet.

“You can’t just bring two children into the world, and then give up on them because your other half passes away, your responsibility lies with those children, not your grief. Of course, it’s terribly sad that he lost his true love, I wouldn’t wish that upon anypony, but once you have kids, you have to put them first, always!”

“Since when did you become a parent?” I joked.

“Since I hatched that egg, and raised Spike mostly on my own.” She retorted.

I hadn’t thought of that; dipping my head in acknowledgment, I took a sip of coffee.

“What the fuck, you ponies lay eggs?” Oliver blurted out.

Bursting into laughter, I sprayed coffee over the screen and nearly choked, Twilight couldn’t help but laugh as well; Oliver’s cheesy grin filled the screen, clearly proud of himself. I wiped the screen with my sleeve and allowed Twilight to explain that she hatched a baby dragon, and had raised him as her son.

“Dragons, now that is something I’d like to see.” He sighed dreamily.

“Anyway, tell me more!” I demanded, returning to the subject.

“Well, after the cat was let out of the bag, our fake mother got arrested and is serving a lot of years for benefit fraud, false identity, and child neglect, they think she’s behind your murder, it’s fucking hilarious! I’m now the legal owner of the house, and I’ve been compensated with all her money so I’m rolling in dosh at the moment. Once I get out of the army, I’m going to sell the place and move somewhere smaller, and I would be rich enough to retire early!”

“You’re literally nineteen, Oliver.”

“I said I would be rich enough, you bumbling fucknoodle, I don’t actually plan to retire, I’m thinking about going into metal detecting to find roman coins and shit.”

“Fair one.” I hummed.

“As for our real mother, she was a passionate photographer and journalist, wrote poetry and all that deep meaningful shit. She grew up on a goat farm, so she was a proper Southern country girl, although she was only half American. Her dad was a New Zealander, rather weird fucking combo, so in other words, congratulations, brother mine, we’re impure.”

“Oh man, I really liked being the idea of being pure British.” I mumbled.

{But consider this, you’re half British, so you can keep your main heritage and customs, but you’re also quarter New Zealand, the Maori were badass as heck.}

{Which leaves quarter Yank, what’s that benefit? Being obnoxious and arrogant?} I thought back.

{Not every Yank is a dick, although you do have a relentless arrogance about you. Seriously though, Americans have a rather unmatched lust for life, just think of that American Dream bollocks, they’ve got quite a zeal about them. Despite your depression, you cling onto life because deep down, proving your own worth means a lot to you. I’d say you’ve got your US heritage to thank for that.
And let’s not forget how lethal you are with a gun, remember how you used that UMP a few weeks ago, you’ve got a knack for guns.}

I exhaled through my nostrils, surprised and rather comforted.

{Thanks…}

Thinking less on my heritage and more on my mother, I tilted my head at the screen.

“What did she look like?” I asked.

“Quite nice actually, dad had a few pictures in his journal, I’ve got it here, I’ll take a picture on my phone and send a picture over to you.”

“Cheers.”

“So, family aside, how’ve you been bro? What’s been happening in your strange magical adventure of total and utter faggotry? Other than your rabbit lover, of course.” He asked, changing the subject.

“Well, we’re now in a race against time, as we’re being hunted by a demigod.”

Twilight grimaced at the thought of him, gulping quietly.

“The fucksicle?” Oliver said blandly.

“Some psychotic sack of dick tips called Nah’Lek, he’s the whole reason I’m on this adventure, he sent the Titan’s Orb to Earth, exposing Equus to the dangers of other worlds. He’s currently planning to launch a planetary wipe out, hence why we need to retrieve the Orb before that happens. I guess he caught wind that we were collecting the shards, as he’s come to Earth and is hunting us down.” I explained.

“Shit man, that’s crazy! Where did he come from?”

“You’d never guess, not in a thousand years.”

“Well, no shit. Your horse people have proved there’s more than one dimension, every fictional world mankind has written exists, right? The douchebag could be from bloody Azeroth for all I know!”

My mouth fell open, I couldn’t even respond to that.

“What?”

I remained silent.

“No… Seriously? He’s from the fucking Warcraft universe!?”

I swallowed, before nodding.

“What is he, something from the Burning Legion?”

“I don’t think so, he’s an arachnid of some sort.”

“You’re being hunted by a giant spider?”

“Something like that, he’s got a spider’s abdomen, but he’s got a more humanoid torso, he’s got six legs instead of eight, he’s got a pair of arms instead.”

“Hm, sounds like you’re describing a nerubian.”

“A what?” Twilight quizzed.

“Fiercely intelligent and extremely evil arachnids, native to Northrend. They’re xenophobic as fuck, they became obsessed with destroying every non-arthropod species on Azeroth, but weren’t very successful in their conquest, they remain ruthless on their home turf though, killing anything that wanders into their territory. They’re the only race on Azeroth that are completely immune to the Fel, along with every known disease, not a single pathogen can infect them.”

{Sounds like ol’ Spindles to me…} Stardust hummed.

“Well Twilight, I think we’ve just uncovered Nah’Lek’s origin.”

“They weren’t exactly demigods though.” Oliver pointed out.

“Nah’Lek was formed into a demigod, I suppose Appleox found the most sick and twisted nerubian he could find, and then imbued him with his blood, enhancing every aspect of him.” I said.

“Shit, those things are lethal enough on their own!”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re dealing with. He’s also got control over the Fel, and the Horde.”

“The Horde’s involved!?”

“Yup, I presume it was prior to their invasion of Azeroth, Nah’Lek somehow got control over them and has been breeding the orcs for war.”

“Man, that’s crazy, does that mean there are orcs on Earth now?”

“I don’t think so, I’m pretty sure Nah’Lek’s come alone, he plans to unleash the Horde on Equus, but each dimension has a different time span, a day on Equus is an entire year here, so I imagine we’ve got plenty of time until there’s any real threat.”

“Fair one.”

Oliver turned his head and stood up straight, then looked back to me.

“I’ve got some mates that have just arrived, I’m throwing a house party, obviously they can’t know you’re alive so I’ve got to go. It’s so good to know you’re alive though, thanks for getting to me!”

“Alright broski, it was great to talk to you, don’t trash the house!”

Oliver laughed, and then said goodbye to Twilight, who dipped her head; I hit the ‘hang up’ button, and the screen went back to my contact list.


I sighed and flopped onto the bed, I forgot how exhausting it was to talk to people like my brother.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but I don’t like him.” Twilight murmured.

I lifted my head to face her and lifted an eyebrow.

“He just seems really arrogant, I don’t really like it.”

“That’s Oliver for you, I guess he got the American genes more than I did.”

{Racist.}

{Silence, horse person.}

Stardust decided not to bother with a response and let himself drift away into my brain, probably to dig up old memories and learn more about my race, as was his favourite pastime, delving into my knowledge and essentially downloading all the information into his own consciousness.

Drinking more coffee, I looked to Twilight and smiled.

“Thanks for this, you make good coffee.”

“I practically lived on it during study weeks, best to know how to make it well.” She replied sheepishly.

Smirking, I offered her some, to which she gladly accepted; she didn’t seem to mind me holding the mug for once, I guess she was getting used to the idea that I’d need to help her for quite some time.

{I just found out something cool!} Stardust shouted.

I jumped, spilling some coffee on Twilight’s chin, she squeaked unintentionally and backed off.

“What the heck!?”

“Goddammit Stardust!” I growled.

Twilight relaxed after she realised why I’d jumped.

{Grow some balls, the both of you. Anyway, I just learned that your particular depression is linked to your biological makeup. Tracing it back, I’ve found you were actually born with it! Obviously your shite childhood didn’t help and made it a lot worse, but you were actually born a miserable cunt!}

“Fantastic, so it’s incurable.” I moaned.

“What?” Twilight asked, confused.

“Stardust says my depression was naturally developed, not environmentally.”

Her eyes widened, clearly surprised.

“I didn’t know that was possible, nopony has been able to dig that deep into one’s mind to find its root, most ponies diagnosed with it have supporting environmental factors, so it’s always been assumed it was caused by external exposure.”

{In most cases, correct, but I’m clearly seeing here that it’s been part of you since birth, the moment your brain developed consciousness, the depression has been growing.}

“But it didn’t affect me until I was about nine.” I mentioned.

{Aye, because it was growin’. Think back to the Dead Forest, all those creepers around your tree neurons, you’ve got to imagine they were like seedlings, they couldn’t choke the trees until they were big enough.}

“Makes sense…” I hummed.

Twilight tilted her head, and I repeated what he’d said. I wish I had brought the collars upstairs with me so I didn’t have to relay everything Stardust said over to her.

{Now, it is curable, but you’d have to find a way of isolating it and removing it manually. You could quite simply venture back to the Dead Forest and chop down the bloody creepers, but don’t harm the trees, or you could end up with brain damage. It would take forever though, at least a year to completely eradicate it from your mind, you’d be better off finding an antidepressant that reduces its symptoms.}


“Perhaps I can help with that.” Hawnu Rey’eng spoke.

I jumped and spilt more coffee onto the bed, whipping around to find the guardian stood in the doorway.

“Are you both out to make me jump at random intervals!?” I demanded to know.

{Yes.} They both spoke in unison via thought.

“How could you help?” I asked.

Hawnu Rey’eng pulled out the collars from his belt, and pointed to my one.

“I can alter the enchantment on the collar, so it can multiply the speed of your brainwaves while in the dreamland, making you think thousands of times faster than you would while normally awake.”

“How does making me think faster, while unconscious, help?” I muttered angrily.

{Use your brain, ya spastic.}

“It would mean time in the dreamworld is slower than time in the real world, you could be asleep for a few hours, and it would feel like days in there.” Hawnu Rey’eng explained.

“Oooohh…”

“You could spend one hour a day in the Dead Forest, giving you one or two days’ worth of chopping down creepers, one by one. It wouldn’t feel like it makes a difference, at least not at first, it would take a lot of time, but you’d eventually cut down on how much it affects you, pardon the pun.”

I nodded, understanding what he was suggesting.

{The only downside, is that you could end up being susceptible to the Fel.}

“Yeah, but Nah’Lek’s gone from my mind now, so there’s no way he could infect me, and even if we met in person, he’ll still think I’m immune, so he wouldn’t bother.”

“But if he were to find out-”

“Well I’m willing to take that risk, I’m sick of constantly feeling exhausted and being hit with waves of suicidal thoughts on a daily basis, thank you very much.” I declared, interrupting Twilight.

She nodded in understanding and support; having felt my depression when we switched bodies in the Frozen Forest, she wholeheartedly comprehended what the worst of my depression felt like.

“I’m actually in agreement, Callum. Nah’Lek underestimated you, and lost bitterly because of it, he’ll be far more cautious upon your next encounter, I doubt he’ll attempt to use the Fel on you unless he is certain he can control you. His cautiousness will play both in and against your advantage. In one respect, he won’t attack with full force anymore, but in another, it will lead him to be far more cunning and unorthodox.” Hawnu Rey’eng warned.

“Duly noted.” I hummed.



The laptop made a pinging noise, and I looked to Skype to see four unread messages.

[Received Image From Oliver]

[Received Image From Oliver]

[Received Image From Oliver]

[Received Image From Oliver]

It was my father’s journal, at least, a few random pages of it; the first image revealed a picture of my mother, along with a sketch my father had drawn of her, taking pictures from atop a mountain.

“She’s beautiful.” Twilight hummed.

I didn’t quite know how to feel, I was looking at a picture of the woman who made me, who brought me into the world, and yet, I didn’t know her. She certainly seemed nicer than the woman who raised me, I really wish I could have met her.

The other images were pages that featured numerous paragraphs, mostly messages and lamentations, typically towards and about my birth mother; although two of them were about Oliver and I.

{How nice, he actually thought of you.}

{Be nice.} I thought back defensively.

Another boy! I can’t believe this is happening!
When I wrote for The Guardian Newspaper, chasing up unique news stories, I never imagined I’d end up like this, rarely do journalists get the opportunity to escape the contracts and pursue their heart.
But that’s exactly what I’ve done.
Who knew I’d meet her in Amsterdam? Writing an article on the red-light district, when I bumped into a young missionary, looking to help the very people I was writing about.
Never believed in love at first sight, nor did she.
And now, she’s my Mrs Horncastle, and we’ve just had our second son.
It was a long labour, I guess a ten-pound baby will do that to a woman; so she decided to watch Braveheart until he decided to emerge; with Scotland on our minds, we’ve decided to call him Callum.
It means ‘Dove King’ in Scottish Gaelic, a symbol of purity, peace, and soulfulness.
He already lives up to the name, he didn’t cry in the slightest as I brought him into the world, he just peacefully waited to be held, making the odd baby noise here and there. I think he’s going to be a milk drinker, as he went STRAIGHT for the nipple without hesitation.
That’s my boy.

Why us? Why now? After all the blood, sweat, and tears we’ve put into making this work, after finally getting our lives stable and content. The challenges we’ve faced as a couple have been exceedingly cruel and bitter, we’ve fought, tooth and nail to get to where we are; happily married, living the golden years.
And now this. This is our reward.
She’s never smoked, lived away from cities for most of her life, and has always stayed clear of harmful substances, so why and how has cancer reached her? WHY HER?
What have either of us done to deserve this? Is this the punishment for love?

This has been the hardest decision we’ve made, the hardest thing we’ll ever do, the hardest thing I’LL ever do, we’ve decided to move back to England and live separately.
This feels wrong, this feels so wrong, but she insists it’s the kindest thing for the boys; to grow up, only to be faced with their mother’s death, it would traumatise them.
I’ll visit her frequently, and make sure she’s well, but the boys won’t ever know her. Deep down I feel like this is wrong, and the boys should know the truth, they should know their mother for as long as they can. We could explain to them that one day, mum’s going to go away, but it’ll be okay, she always loves them.
It all seems so complex, why did this happen to us?
How can I pretend to love another woman in front of them?
I don’t know if I can do this, but I HAVE to stay strong.
Think of her, and think of the boys.

Settled down in West Sussex, I’ve found a nice house in a town called Ifield, the town itself is rather cruddy, but the value for the house was amazing for a Victorian building with four acres of land, the boys are going to love it growing up.
I’ve been in touch with my old friend, Elisabeth, she’s always wanted kids, and we’ve always been close friends since uni. I’ve told her my situation and she gladly agreed to go along with it, she’s been in an extremely rough place over the past decade, and needs a place of her own, she’s spent the past year sofa surfing, poor woman.
I believe she’ll be a great foster, she’s got the potential.
I’m giving her a fresh start, two kids, and a house of her own.
Not blowing my own trumpet, but I’d say that’s rather generous.
She’s met the boys, loves them to bits.
She’s been extremely grateful, and has promised to stay clean for the kid’s sake.
I’m terrified out of my wits, my hair’s been coming out in clumps from the stress of it all.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this, but what choice do I have?
I must honour my wife’s wishes, I want her to be at peace…

It’s been four years since my last entry, I’ve been so focused on raising the boys while taking care of my wife in secret, it’s been so strange, living with a friend disguised as your wife, while nursing your wife disguised as your friend.
I feel sick to the stomach every time I tell the boys how “Daddy loves mummy”, and they look to Elisabeth like she’s their real mother. The love in their eyes when they look at her, when it should be towards the woman lying in a bed a few houses down the road, I can’t help but start to resent Elisabeth for it, she’s not kept to her promise, I’ve caught her drinking on eight occasions, the arguments we’ve had already are countless, but we haven’t broken the deal, the boys just think their parents are arguing like any couple does. I wish I could tell them.
I’m getting worse and worse, I’ve seen a doctor and have been put onto antidepressants, sertraline, it helps with the stress and keeps me calm.
God, I wish I could sleep.

What was I thinking? WHAT WAS I THINKING!?
I’ve let a monster raise my kids, what have I done!?
Drinking almost every night, smoking around the boys, swearing like no tomorrow, and today she hit Oliver for speaking back to her. I don’t mean a disciplinary tap on the behind, she backhanded my first born!
She HIT my fucking son!
I went up the bloody wall, I ordered her to leave, and she looked me dead in the eye and threatened to tell them our secret, I’m in a box, and I’m forced to watch her abuse my boys and reap the benefits in the meanwhile.
I’ve made a mistake, I’ve made such a huge mistake.
What have I done…?
I can’t tell her, I just can’t…
I refuse to let my wife’s last moments be spent worrying over the welfare of her children.
Lies, lies, lies, that’s all I’ve become; lies and failure.
I was living the dream, but it’s now just a nightmare, my life is a nightmare

She’s going back to the states, she’s insisted she wants to die back at home, in our cabin, not some shitty little council house in Ifield. I wholeheartedly understand, but I’m now being torn into shreds, I want to keep the boys safe from the monster I’ve blighted them with.
There’s nothing I can do for them, Elisabeth will do as she pleases and will tell them our secret if I dare intervene, I’ve lost my sons, to my own stupid decision.
I’m going back with her, I don’t want her to die alone.
I need to be with her, I NEED to.
Boys, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…
I’ve brought shame on you, and on our family, it pains me that you’ll grow up to resent the name of Horncastle, our family was great, truly great.
The Horncastles were proud, respectful, honour bound, and were simply, great.
If this journal ever reaches you, my sons, please know you were part of a good family, a kind family, the burdens you’ve both endured were of my doing, this was ALL my fault.
Don’t let me, or that monster destroy your perception of what our blood stands for.

This morning I woke beside my lover, her skin cold as ice.
She’s gone… After everything… She’s gone…
I’ve contacted everyone I need to, they’ve taken her away, the funeral will be in a week.
None of this feels real, I keep feeling like throwing up, but I never do.
My skin feels cold as hers.
I don’t think I can do this anymore…

I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t talk aloud.
I am done.
If this journal is found, please get it to my sons, please.
Callum and Oliver Horncastle.
Tell them I’m sorry.

With each paragraph I read, the less angry I felt, and the more understanding I became; Clifford hadn’t simply abandoned us for love, he had fallen into despair and saw no way out. He’d essentially descended into madness from the inability to fix what he had done, and while he’d seriously fucked up, he had realised it and repented in the end.

“Gosh…” Twilight murmured.

I turned to face her, her eyes were misty and on the verge of leaking; giving a pained smile, I shrugged and put a hand on her shoulder.

“It is what it is, Twi, nobody is suffering anymore.”

“But there’s beensuffering, from the moment this happened, all parties have suffered. Your dad suffered in silence, you suffered that horrible foster mother, and your real mother was parted from her children. Regardless of which light you look at it under, everyone’s suffered. You don’t even know your own mother, Callum, it’s absolutely heart-breaking.”

The tears left her eyes and she threw her hooves around my neck.

“I just keep imagining what your dad was feeling this whole time, all the emotions running through him, all the sleepless nights, all the guilt and anxiety over not knowing how to fix his mistake! He must have been in agony from the moment he came back to England!”

I sighed and held her tighter, this explains all those days he would run off for a day or two at a time, we’d always been told he was gambling, that he had a poker group and went there often to get easy money. All this time, he was tending to my mum, only a few houses down the road.

{As you said, it is what it is, take solace in knowing they’re finally at rest.}

I closed my eyes in acknowledgement of Stardust’s moral support, and gave Twilight a small squeeze; she broke from the hug and I closed the laptop screen.

“Let’s not dwell on it, I know the truth now, and I’m thankful for it, I’ll need some time to properly process it, but let’s not let it dampen things, ey? We’ve cured the Fel, and removed Nah’Lek’s shade from both our minds! I think we’ve got every reason to celebrate.”

The corners of her lips raised slightly, not much, but enough to say she agreed with me.

“You seem to have brightened up, was my coffee that good?”

I chuckled, to which she also giggled with me. My depression always hit in waves, some lasted for minutes, some hours, some days; I’ve even had waves that last for weeks, thankfully this one hadn’t been all that long, and had subsided.

{Go on, make her day.} Stardust encouraged.

“Best coffee I’ve ever had.” I said with a warm smile.

She beamed, giggling once again in her sheepish manner, and then I stood up and stretched.

“So, how about we head back downstairs and see what the others are up to?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Twilight replied.

I closed the laptop screen and we headed downstairs.


We went into the living room to find the girls playing truth or dare, I couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of them all sat around in a circle, spinning an empty beer bottle. Hawnu Rey’eng stood in the corner watching the game transpire, his visor was much more colourful than usual, he appeared to be happy.

“Hey you two! Where have you been?” Applejack called.

“I was just talking to my brother with the laptop Rainbow and I found.”

“Sure, you guys totally weren’t making out.” She teased.

Twilight jumped back an inch and her cheeks turned bright red, most of the girls laughed, while Rainbow Dash frowned, clearly unimpressed by the comment.

{Someone’s jealous.} Stardust chortled.

“Yeah, that was definitely what happened.” I replied dryly.

“Changing the subject, your human beer is SO good!” AJ called out.

“I was wondering where the bottle came from, I noticed there was some cider in there as well, I’d have thought you would prefer that.” I hummed.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, but human cider is terrible, I tried a few sips and nearly spat it back out! Dashie finished it instead, it’s horribly bitter compared to the cider we make at Sweet Apple Acres.”

{Man, I wish I could try some…} I thought.

“Anyway, we’re playing truth or dare, want to join?” Rarity asked.

Rarity? Playing truth of dare? I had to admit, I was rather surprised.

“I didn’t think it was a lady’s game.” I said curiously.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not much of a lady.” She retorted with a wink.

Everyone laughed, even Hawnu Rey’eng; I dipped my head in defeat, and chuckled along with them. When the laughter died down, Rarity whipped her mane to one side and gave me a mischievous grin.

“If you knew anything about a lady, you’d know they all have a wild side…”

{Hm, a wild side… Look, if she goes full on feral and starts shitting on the floor, I’m going to give you a brain aneurism, and don’t test me, I know how to do it.}

It took all the self-control in my being to hold in the laughter; I headed to the circle and beckoned Twilight to follow, we sat down in the circle and I looked over to Hawnu Rey’eng.

“You not playing, Tin Can?”

“Happy watching.”

I rolled my eyes, even in a good mood, he was a dullard; facing the group, Rarity spun the bottle with her magic and it landed on Pinkie, meaning she could ask the truth or dare, Rarity spun it a second time to determine who the recipient would be.
This was going to be fun…


About ten rounds in, and we were all having a brilliant time; it was actually really enjoyable, even with just the childish dares, having Applejack wear Rarity’s eye shadow for instance. I’d been dared to kiss Rainbow Dash on the cheek, which caused her to be quite shy and restless over the following rounds, but it was all in good jest; a pony’s cheek felt rather weird, especially against the lips, it felt less like fur and more like velvet.

After a while, Pinkie seemed to be losing interest, sitting in one spot and waiting for turns clearly didn’t agree with her constant hyperactive state.

“You okay Pinks?” I asked, finishing my second beer.

“Yeah, just bit bored.” She replied, smiling widely.

“Why don’t you go and do something else? We don’t mind.” Rarity suggested.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be antisocial.”

“It’s totally fine!” She insisted.

“Why don’t you play on your Joyboy?” Dashie recommended.

“I don’t have it anymore, we used it to make Callum’s beepboop more powerful.”

{Not going to lie, that’s adorable. I’m calling phones ‘beepboops’ from now on.} Stardust remarked.

“You can use mine.” Twilight offered.

“For realsies?”

“For realsies.”

Twilight went off with Pinkie to get the device from her satchel, while I opened another beer.

“You totally weren’t trying to get rid of her.” Applejack teased.

“Well, duh.” Dashie replied.

I raised my left eyebrow, surprised.

“I love Pinks, but come on, I think we’re all getting a bit bored of the tameness.” She continued.

“Agreed, it’s about time we had some real fun.” Rarity pitched in.

My right eyebrow raised to join the other, I didn’t quite know where this was going; Applejack and Rainbow Dash got up and grabbed the large containers of various alcohol, bringing it to the circle. Twilight walked back into the room and sat beside me, just as AJ cracked open a bottle of rum.

“Alright y’all, let’s get fucked up.”

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