Chapter 10
“Ooooooooooooow!” Piper whined. “That’s a bit snug, Mister Nicker, do be careful! Be mindful that I’m a filly!”
“Only snug?” Flicker gave a merciless tug upon the strap around Piper’s middle, and she let out a pathetic, mewling whimper of pain. “Tell me, Miss Pie, do you want a rat crawling inside of your suit and settling in for a fine meal of Pie?”
“Pull tighter, Mister Nicker, pull tighter!” Piper cried in alarm. “Also—ooof—I am pleased to see that you have a sense of humour!”
“I wasn’t being funny,” Flicker deadpanned as he continued securing Piper’s suit. “If the rats get inside of your suit, they will eat you. I’ve seen it. One cannot be lax when gearing up.” With a harsh yank, he pulled up the rear leggings and secured them to the fitted croup panel of Piper’s barding. He ignored her yelps, her whimpers, and her shrill squeaks. All of this was for her own good.
“How—ugh—do you do it, Mister Nicker? How do you feel comfortable in this suit?”
Without even pausing to think, Flicker replied, “It is my skin. My real skin. The suit and the mask make me whole. I only feel like a complete pony when I’m wearing them. They are me.” He held up the heavy protective rubberised canvas cloak. “Mask on, Miss Pie. Take a deep breath and do not be afraid.”
“Right.” Lifting her mask, Piper sucked in as much air as she could with her tight-bound body while Flicker waited beside her. It was difficult to breathe, her suit was tight around her, and she tried not to think about the fact that some of it was made out of thick leather, which she knew had been boiled in wax to make it tough. Piper realised that she had read far too many books for a filly her age about far too many gristly, ghastly subjects. Her mother had not approved, but it was an asset now.
Impassive, unmoving, Flicker watched as Piper waited for air. After several long seconds, his ears perked when he heard the faint mechanical sounds of her breathing. Sliding the cloak over her back, he secured it in place around her neck, tightened the straps and buckles, and then nodded. The broad brimmed hat went down upon her cowled head and he slapped at it a few times until it was at a jaunty angle. There was one last thing.
Pulling back her cloak, he slipped a sword belt around her middle, slid it back to just behind her ribs, drew it tight until she squeaked loud enough to be heard through her mask, and then he slid a somewhat worn but well cared for sword into her scabbard.
Piper was beautiful, so beautiful and Flicker could feel tears coming to his eyes. He blinked them away, they had no place here, and he reminded himself to be professional. Still, the feeling lingered. Piper, now and forever his sister, now dressed in her suit, she was a figure of great beauty. He kept his adoration to himself and refocused it, repurposed it, he would use it to motivate himself and keep her safe.
Things could go wrong.
In silence, Flicker began to put on his own skin, and soon, he would be free to wear his face. Today, he would be free to be himself, the pony that he truly was, the pony that destiny had chosen him to be. This day was going to be perfect, and Flicker intended to make the most of it. He wanted it to be a special day for Piper as well. He had things to show her, such wonderful things, and he wanted her to be impressed with him.
“So much red in my vision!”
Flicker didn’t stop to think about how terrifying this might be to Piper. He stood close to her, sizing up the situation. There really was a lot of red. This village was infested. The granaries in particular worried him, but the houses, the storage buildings, and the warehouse on the waterfront were veritable hotzones.
“Flicker, I have a confession,” Piper said in a low whisper that was difficult to hear through her mask.
“Yes?” Feeling concerned, Flicker did not correct Piper’s little slip up.
“I just peed myself… I feel so ashamed… I’m sorry.”
“I’ll help you get cleaned up later,” Flicker replied in a flat voice. “Think nothing of it. Don’t be distracted, just be.” He continued to size up the situation and realised that this was a problem that should have been dealt with a long time ago. A keen simmering sense of anger developed within him, the Las Pegasus branch should have done something, or should have called in for help sooner. This was disgraceful and there was no excuse. He was going to have a talk with Wicked, and he knew that Wicked would listen to him.
Wicked always listened.
“Where do we start?” Piper asked.
After a good look around, Flicker replied, “That swarm in the storehouse right over there. Think you can call them out with whatever it is that you do?”
“Yeah.” The brim of Piper’s hat bobbed up and down as she nodded. “So much red and orange. These ponies must be eaten alive with fleas.”
“We’re here to cure.” Flicker’s voice was cold calm. “This is a disease, and we are here to cure. Miss Pie, think of the village as a patient. We’re here to cut away diseased flesh, infection, and rot. The village, our patient, shows sign of sickness. The rats are germs… contaminants... impurities in the body. You and I… we’re like white blood cells. We keep the body, the village, healthy. We’re just here to do our job, and our job is to cure.”
“Thank you, Mister Nicker, that is somehow very reassuring and also so very you.”
Standing still, Flicker waited for Piper to do whatever it is that she was going to do. After a few seconds, a glowing flute appeared in front of Piper, glowing as yellow-green as her eyes. The flute shimmered, sparkled, and then it began to change shape. The flute morphed into a rat with a long tail, it became a rat-flute, complete with holes.
Piper’s pipe became a rat-pipe.
Flicker, impressed, began to hear music, weird music that unsettled him, made him twitchy, and awoke some need of violence within him. He liked the feeling, he liked it a lot. It awoke his primal instincts and he loosened his sword in its scabbard. The music was haunting, discordant, and it gave Flicker chills.
One by one, the red dots, some of which had shimmering outlines indicating they had the plague, they began to bob about, almost as if they were dancing. They formed a little line, a little rat conga line, and Flicker watched as they poured out into the open through a neglected crack near the foundation. They moved in time to the music, doing a disgusting little rat dance as they came to Piper, compelled by her music, drawn to her in an irresistible compulsion.
Flicker, who had once heard a song about some conflagration at a discotheque, drew some inspiration from his memory. Pulling out his wand, he reasoned that if he could set a rat or two on fire with his rat burning spell, then he should be able to put a whole conga line of rats on fire if he used his wand.
He built a charge and gave his wand a flick as he directed his hatred and loathing at the rats, which were no more than red splotches in his vision. The entire line of them burst into flames and much to his surprise, the fire was short-lived. They incinerated into ash piles almost right away, so great was the intensity and heat of the flames.
Just as he was about to give the order for Piper to summon more rats, he discovered that more were on the way. They came out of the warehouse, they came out of the boathouse, and they came out of tool sheds that dotted the waterfront. Rats came up out of the river. Flicker began to calculate the situation—he determined that there were a lot of rats and that, perhaps, Piper had bitten off more than the two of them could chew.
Well then, they needed bigger teeth.
His slow but methodical mind took up the task and he looked around to see what he had to work with, he spotted shovels, rakes, some scythes, which had potential, and then his eyes fell upon a piece of farming equipment that he was familiar with—a soil aerator. It was big, about ten feet wide, and was a crude iron cylinder with iron spikes all over it. It was pulled like a plow over soil and it made lots of little holes in the dirt.
The colt turned his cold, homicidal stare upon the swarm of rats approaching. It didn’t take him long to decide. He slid his wand away in a pocket and gritted his teeth together. Using his telekinesis, he strained and tugged on the aerator, discovered that the brakes were locked to keep it from moving, and he cursed his own thick-headedness. He smacked the brake lever with his telekinesis, the supporting wheels on each end of the aerator squeaked as it began to move, and Flicker steered it in the direction of the rats.
“OH I AM GOING TO BE SICK!”
Teeth bared beneath his mask, Flicker pushed the soil aerator towards the incoming swarm of rats. He could feel the resistance of the aerator as it rolled over the first ranks, there were a lot of little bodies in the way, so he pushed even harder. Rats popped like pimples, were skewered on spikes, and the aerator made short work of them. A dreadful sound could be heard, a sickening slick, squishy sound, and the rats squealed as Flicker crushed them to death with the cold, unfeeling farm equipment made to move by the power of his will.
Mutilated beneath the aerator, rats became so much mincemeat, actual mincemeat. Flicker regretted his choice of weapons almost right away as he saw the puddle of rat jelly, he was going to be out here for hours with a shovel, cleaning all of this up. Good thing he had Piper to help him clean this mess. She was going to get a real feel for the job today.
“More rats incoming!” Piper shouted.
Turning his head around, Flicker spotted them, quite a number of them came pouring out of houses, out of granaries, and out of burrows in the ground. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected that Piper was calling all of the rats in the area, and that was fine, Flicker was totally fine with that. Using his telekinesis, he tugged the aerator around, rolling it over the carpet of ratburger on the ground, and more sickening squishes could be heard.
With stoic resignation, he set about his grim task, feeling very much like a farmer once again. It was just like being at home with his parents, but this time, the harvest tended to squeak a bit, not that he minded. He was the Reaper of Rats, and it was now the autumn of their existence. He shoved the heavy aerator forwards, and his mask hid a terrible grin that would freeze the blood of Nightmare Moon herself.
“OH ALICORNY PORNY, I CAN’T WATCH!”
What a peculiar expression, Flicker thought to himself. There was a much larger mob of rats this time and he really had to throw his willpower into his telekinesis to keep the aerator moving forwards. He was going to be tired later, but that was no excuse to do a poor job.
“OH STARS, IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMEPONY CHEWING WITH THEIR MOUTH OPEN!”
Flicker took a grim sense of satisfaction from his work and he was positive that the doctor would praise him, not that he needed it or expected it. He was getting the job done, and in record time too. Piper’s magic was wonderful, it was the most wonderful magic ever, maybe even better than Princess Celestia and Princess Luna’s magic. And the music wasn’t bad either, but he had a hard time hearing it over the sound of so many little bodies erupting like overstuffed pus-laden boils. Pop—pop—POP!
Little tails, still attached to little wriggling backsides, squiggle-wiggled and squirmed like worms, twerking away the final moments of their tortured existence.
The red dots were diminished, very much so, and with each passing second there were fewer and fewer. Feeling proud of his efficiency, Flicker continued to grind the rats down into a fine red paste with the aerator. This was turning out to be the best day ever, it was even better than the time that his mother had Pinkie Pie throw him a birthday party.
“I’M NEVER GOING TO STOP HEARING THE SOUND! NEVEREVER!”
Ignoring Piper’s girly theatrics, Flicker found he liked the sound, it was an exciting, almost industrial sound. It added something to the music. The sound of the rats being crushed and mulched was the sound of efficiency, of progress, it was the sound of civilisation being preserved.
Where once there had been hundreds of red smears in his vision, now there were very few, and Piper continued to call them in. Flicker had expected this job to take hours, culling the rats in bunches without gas, but this was almost too easy. He regretted the shoveling that he was going to have do though. Shoveling rat paste into a barrel was going to suck.
Would rat paste render down into usable rat fat to make candles? Flicker paused and considered his work. It should, if it didn’t, he was going to be in trouble, big trouble, and he didn’t like being in big trouble. Big trouble was bad. Real bad. There was a lot of rat paste though, rat goo, rat jelly… liquified rat remains.
It was a job well done, and Flicker was proud.
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I'm with Flicker on this one, that is quite a peculiar expression.
7746262
Celestia, Luna, and Gosling Make a Porno?
But it's still funny.
missing 'in'
Spud accompanying on the trumpet. Where is he, i thought he was coming on this trip?
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Oooh I like this one, spikes and knives.
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Tight straps, leather masks, rubber... beautiful? ... what exactly does all of this say about Flicker? Poor Hennessy is going to have to wear some very odd things to get a response out of his crush.
7746325
Hail Eris, I was hoping that somebody would cotton on to this! You've just made my day, thank you so much!
Flicker is a dom just waiting to happen.
I am glad I read this before dinner.
He's going to be a shell of a pony by age 30 (or mid adulthood) who cannot sympathize with anything outside his profession. Hell, he's pretty much there as is. Has he ever stopped to think of why he's doing this? Is he even aware of the life he is trying to protect?
I don't think so. There is such a thing as loving a career, but every stable individual I've met in such a situation have outside interest-card games, hanging out with friends, aggressive stamp collection, something. Flicker? He has nothing, and that's going to wear on him-right now it is-even if he doesn't realize it.
In short, he needs a hobby. Maybe go see a play, walk in the woods, peak on mares (or colts; whatever his preference) in the shower and clop furiously. It doesn't particularly matter, as long as he has something more than just his cutie mark.(okay, last one is bad, but you get the idea. Maybe write hilariously bad erotic fiction? Something.)
After reading the ending, I can definitely say this: Flicker really needs a fucking hobby.
Also, I feel so sorry for Piper. I can just imagine what's going through her, and I got a little queasy picturing the scenario.
I enjoyed the termination of these rats waaaaay too much... (I giggled at one point).
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Deep breath, another deep breath, and remember, the weedverse is all about development and growth.
Flicker is a figure in dire need of growth.
Edit: In this chapter, he gained some music appreciation.
7746281 Assuming Shining and Cadance didn't beat them to it :)
Think about the poor sap who owns the aerator, cleaning that is going to suck
Most of this chapter was delightfully squirpy.
7746341
The issue is, I can think of other people of similar mind set who also appreciated music.
7746406
In chapter ten, he gains a spark of music appreciation.
7746412
Yes, but you have missed my point. Have you ever seen A Clockwork Orange? The main character loves the music of Beethoven, but associates it with images of ultraviolence, his other great love. I can't help but see Flicker associating music with slaughtering rats.
7746325
I was thinking the same thing.
7746368
Just ask any of the farmers if they have any extra oil or any other highly flammable liquids, cover it in them and then set it on fire to burn away all the unclean.
7746420
Seen the movie, read the book too. You?
7746424
Naturally. But you haven't responded. Flicker compared to Alex. Discuss.
7746438
It's not a good comparison. It seems like it, on the surface, but Flicker is NOT a sociopath.
He's in love.
He is literally in love with his profession and his cutie mark. And like anybody who has fallen into a mad state of infatuation, it has left him with tunnel vision. We are seeing Flicker at both the lowest point in his life and the highest. His cutie mark, in a sense, turned him into a blank slate so that he could be reborn into what he is becoming.
He's surrounded by giants, the very best of the best in his profession. The Canterlot guildhall is the spot where the cream rises to the top. He is seeing the very best that his destined profession has to offer. He feels weak, inadequate, he desperately wants to be like them, think like them, act and behave like them. He wants to have opinions like them, opinions that matter, he wants to be able to bend the ear of Princess Luna and have her listen. In a mad frenzy to be like those he idolises, he has cast aside everything else, everything that he believed was holding him back.
How is this anything like Alex?
It isn't.
No, Flicker is more like Don Quixote, who wants to go tilting at windmills. He wants a world that he can understand, a world where he fits in, he wants a world that is black and white. Where good is good and evil is evil and giants are a menace that only he can put down. He wants to be selfless, he wants to give all of himself, all of his heart and soul to a good cause.
So again, how is this like Alex?
Flicker is a pony who grew up in a single day, casting childish things aside and wholeheartedly embracing adulthood, without understanding what adulthood meant. He wants responsibilities, he wants to be all grown up and be treated like a grown up. Alex is a manchild who fears growing up, who fears growing old, and wants perpetual youth, so that way he will never be responsible, never be held accountable, he'll be free to play forever.
Flicker wishes to better society while Alex only wishes to tear it apart.
How can they even be compared?
7746474
Again, you have misunderstood me. The one thing they share is their single-mindedness. I said that Alex sees images of violence when he listens to the music of Beethoven. Could it be said that Flicker loves music for the single reason that it makes him see the slaughter of rats?
7746502
I just don't see it as a good comparison, but I am privy to information that you don't have.
Fire at the Disco.
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7746528
Burn baby burn, disco inferno...
7746337
I think you're right. To a point.
Flicker at this point reminds me of some of the depictions of Batman, that he *IS* Batman and that Bruce Wayne is the mask. (I always liked that presentation of the character. Sue me.)
I think Flicker needs something to helps grounds him back to other ponies. Eventually that will become Hennessy and Piper. BUT he already has another pony that grounds him: his sister. He's remembered what he's doing is to help her the only way he can, physically protecting her and saving money for her education. I think that someone will need to help him build on that relationship, so he can relate to other ponies. It will take time and effort, and - I think - it will take others to kick him down that path of "being" a pony. And this is where his two roommates come in. I think they are going to eventually tear down his walls (which I'm not even sure he knows he's built) and remind him that he is a pony and that while he is doing something very good for all, he can learn to enjoy other things as well and still be helpful.
(I think my train of thought just derailed so I'm going to shut up now. I think I explained my ideas well enough, at least I hope so. )
7746615
You are correct, more or less.
His sister (and his family) are his connection.
Boy ain't right, I tell ya what.
Ali...corny...porny? Hmm.
7746937
More about this later.
Piper has an interesting... hobby.
This was quite unnerving.
You're messed up, kudz, and I like that.
I've had this thought since the start of this story but were you at all inspired by the plague doctors from Darkest Dungeon in your planing for how the rat catchers would look and what sort of items they would use?
Not a bad way to go.
I like how part of the uniform is making sure the hat is at a jaunty angle.
7747188
Never played it.
There is life beyond video games and inspirations outside of pop culture.
7747410
Fair enough, just curious.
7747570
I think he based them off of the Plague Doctors from REAL LIFE.
7748014
Yep.
FLICKER NO.
7748681
Too late.
what the fuck man
... Welp, I'm gonna need a large empty bucket... and a mop... and several weeks paid therapy....
Hm. I feel like it should be odd that Flucker found her beautiful on all that, but I can't say im suprised.
Uhhhhhhhhh... Did Gos and Celestia carry out on that camera show they mentioned?
And dear lord! The mess that must be!
I wonder how many people squeaked through this chapter?
7761087
I don't think Gosling is quite THAT 'productive'
That made me laugh so much -thank you for making me feel good on a day I was sick
I DIED LAUGHING!!!
This was awesome, i couldnt stop laughing.
In this moment, I realized that Flicker is pyro fro tf2.
7748681
FLICKER YES!
His smile could freeze the blood of NMM? Jesus.