The guildhall had a strange, almost menacing atmosphere for Flicker. There was disorder here, chaos, there was fighting and bickering here when there should have been copacetic unity. There was no mistaking it, there was a new threat and potentially a new type of plague had manifested; because of this, now everypony had their own idea of how to fix it or what to do about it.
Flicker understood though; Fillydelphia was a city of almost a million and a half ponies.
Maybe more.
The total population of rats was unknown; incalculable.
Pacing about his room, in which there was no longer very much room to pace, Flicker became acutely aware that he was ten years of age and the problems he was facing were very adult problems. There was nothing he could do about them, the only thing he could do was kill rats, that was the beginning and the end of what he was capable of. Killing undead rats though, that was the stickler. His own blades had no silver, they were just plain old steel. The young colt didn’t even have a clue how much silver weapons might cost.
The pressure continued to build, unabated.
When Flicker could no longer stand the feeling of chaos welling up around him, he stopped mid-step and ceased his pacing to announce, “We’re going out. All of us. Yes, you too, Piper, so that I might keep you safe.”
“We is all going on a date?” Hennessy asked.
That was a brilliant idea. “Yes. We’re going to the Chapel of Night, just as planned.” Flicker allowed his mind to make a reasonable plan, and he spent several long seconds doing so. “We’ll go down the back stairs, the circular stairs, and out the back door. If we’re lucky, we’ll slip off without being noticed.”
“So, we’re sneaking out?” Hennessy’s muzzle brightened with the hint of a smile.
“No.” Flicker sounded very stern. “I am free to come and go as I please, and following the rank of seniority, I am free to tell the two of you what to do. You two are not allowed to come and go as you please, but the two of you are expected to obey my commands or face discipline. So, we are going, and we are doing so in a quiet, expedient manner, without attracting the attention of others.”
“Expedient,” Hennessy drawled, having just a little trouble with the word. “Practical action, but maybe improper or immoral. I was just reading that in the dictionary.”
“Very good, Mister Walker.” Piper smiled. “I am proud of you.”
Snatching up the extra pieces of his coat, Flicker made ready to leave.
The springtime night in Canterlot was almost unseasonably cold and Flicker was thankful for a coat to wear. A freezing mist had come off of the waterfall and now much of the city was glazed over in ice, which made the cobblestones treacherous. While Flicker had remarkable balance and poise for his age, he didn’t deal with ice very well.
In fact, he didn’t deal with ice at all and would have fallen several times had Piper not caught him. He suspected that Piper had cast some spell on her hooves to give her secure traction, but he couldn’t be sure. Hennessy also did well, but Hennessy was an earth pony walking on cobblestones.
The route to the cemetery was all downhill, as the cemetery was in the lowest section of Canterlot. Coming home, it would be all uphill, and maybe even more treacherous with the temperature dropping. The freezing mist was becoming a freezing fog, and everything glittered in the warm glow of the streetlights.
The trip was made all the worse by Piper’s incessant giggling, and Flicker knew that she found his near-pratfalls hilarious. In silence, Flicker plotted all of the ways that he would get even with Piper, as she needed to suffer. Oh yes, she needed to suffer. There would be much suffering, and all of that suffering would be centered upon her.
A cloaked figure moved about in the cold, huffing out clouds of steam, and behind them, a much smaller cloaked figured followed, trying not to slip and slide on the ice. Life went on in Canterlot, and living up over a mile in the sky was no excuse. Errands had to be done and tasks had to be completed.
When the Chapel of Night came into view, Flicker came to a clumsy halt to have a better look. Two statues of draconic pegasus ponies stood on each side of the door, silent stone guardians to greet all those who might enter. The building itself was a small, skinny looking tower made of blue-grey stone. At the top of the tower, a pyre burned, a massive burning fire that acted like a beacon in the night, intended to draw in nocturnal pegasus ponies like a moth to a flame.
Flicker hoped that it would be warm inside.
The statue of Princess Luna was not what Flicker expected, causing him to stare, dumbfounded. He expected to see Princess Luna in a magnificent, majestic pose, something dominating, something fierce. What he got was a cowering Princess Luna, her head down, an agonised expression of fear upon her face. This Princess Luna looked vulnerable, exposed, and something about the sight of her clawed at his heart. Her wings were out, as if she was shielding herself from some awful abuse. At the bottom, on the base, there was a silver plaque that read, For my wife and best friend, I do hope you will forgive me for my choice.
The chapel was empty; either Princess Luna wasn’t too popular or it was just too cold for a nighttime visit to this solemn place. Flicker stood there, trying to take it all in, and as he did so, Hennessy plopped down in front of the statue. The earth pony colt bowed his head and closed his eyes. Piper did the same, but after she gave herself a shake. She sat down beside Hennessy, scooted up against his shaggy side, seeking warmth, closed her eyes, and bowed her head.
Moving with an almost regal slowness, Flicker joined his companions and sat down on the other side of Hennessy, sliding the rain cape of his coat beneath him so his bare bottom wouldn’t sit upon the cold stone. He looked up at the statue, taking it all in, the wide, terrified, pleading eyes, the open mouth, lips that if one stared at them in just the right way, one might swear that they were quivering. This was the forgotten, unloved sister, the one with the thankless job of keeping the world safe from the things that lurked in the dark.
Flicker felt a kinship with her, it kindled in his barrel, a tiny flame that ignited and began to burn. In his mind, he thought about how Princess Luna wore a mask, and this statue before him, this was the real Luna with her mask stripped away. A pony like any other, vulnerable to insecurities, to fears, to doubts, a pony that had been left all alone to do her job in the dark.
Had her mask consumed her?
The thought terrified Flicker, and he began to shiver as his skin crawled. He had his own darkness to face, his own mask to wear, and a thankless job of his own to perform. His cutie mark had already almost swallowed him, consumed him, and it was only recently that he realised how much of himself he had lost. Blinking, he wondered what might happen if he became a hollowed out shell of himself. What might Nightmare Nicker be like?
For Flicker, the thought was as serious as the grave, and a part of him felt just as empty.
The first tear dribbled down his cheek as he stared up into the statue’s terrified eyes. This Luna understood. This Luna spoke to him. This Luna battered through all of his defenses and he saw his own soul mirrored in her affrighted countenance. Like him, she would have to put on the mask and soldier on, she would have to put aside her fears, her doubts, her insecurities, she would have to become the Night Lady, Luna, Princess of the Night.
Beside him, he heard the muffled sobbing of Hennessy, and Flicker looked over, feeling guilty for watching his friend cry, and feeling as though he had committed some breach of etiquette by keeping his eyes open. Not knowing what to do, Flicker sat there, paralysed, trying to think of the proper protocol for this situation.
“I don’t want to be the outsider no more,” Hennessy mumbled in an almost inaudible whisper as he wept. “It hurts, it hurts so much, take this pain from me!” The colt said more, but his words became unintelligible and inaudible.
His heart breaking, Flicker thought of his father’s words about Hennessy, about having rats in his soul, and Flicker was moved to some emotion, some unknown feeling that left him feeling hollow… empty. He saw Piper’s eyes open and then she was looking at him, making gestures with her hoof, pointing at Hennessy as her lips moved, saying unspoken words that Flicker could not make out.
Gripped by powerful magic, Piper’s magic, Flicker felt his foreleg being lifted, pulled, and then it was draped over Hennessy’s hitching, shuddering withers. The empty ache inside of him subsided just a little and he pulled Hennessy into a hug, trying to comfort him. It was an awkward moment, but also profound, and everything felt better when Piper joined them, also hugging Hennessy.
Taking refuge in Luna’s shadow, Flicker Nicker was swept away by his own emotions…
For some, the cafe’s lighting might be called romantic, but Flicker called it dim. Fragrant steam rose from his oversized mug of vin brulé and left him feeling lightheaded. Hunched over the table, he looked at his companions sitting across from him in the booth. Hennessy was leaning over his own steaming oversized mug, and Piper was eyeing the plateful of vegetable pasties that were sure to be as hot as the surface temperature of the sun.
The cafe had a few patrons, but not many. Flicker had brought his companions here after visiting the Chapel of Night, all of them felt empty, dehydrated, and were in need of comfort. Glancing at the pasties, he knew better than to eat one right now, but he wanted one. Outside, the wind howled as it tore through the canyons of Canterlot.
“Thanks,” Hennessy said in a grating whisper. The colt coughed, cleared his throat, and tried again. “I mean that, thank you. You don’t know what this means to me. Both of you… being my friends and all.”
“Don’t mention it,” Flicker replied as he hunched down into the padded booth seat and pulled his coat tighter around him.
“As far as first dates go, this is better than I could have hoped,” Hennessy added. Sighing, he leaned over onto Piper a bit and stared down at his mug of vin brulé. “I’m finally free to be myself. Now I just need to convince myself to stop being afraid and that I’m safer now.”
“You are safe,” Piper whispered as she pressed herself up against Hennessy.
“I don’t believe that,” Hennessy replied, shaking his head. “The world is full of bigots and the small minded. I ain’t never gonna be safe, the way I reckon it, but I figure I can be safer… and I’m okay with that. I guess. Realistic expectations, and all.”
“Ponyville and Canterlot are full of—”
“We ain’t always gonna be in Ponyville or Canterlot.” Hennessy scowled and shook his head. “I hope I ain’t never gotta go home for a job, or someplace like it.”
“Things are different now,” Piper said as she placed her fetlock on top of Hennessy’s, which rested upon the table. “If you ever have to go home, or to one of ‘those’ sorts of places, you have me… and Lord Death of Murder Mountain. Not to mention Doctor Sterling. When the rats swarmed, just think about how he moved and how he reacted. Those dimwitted dirt clods back home wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Hennessy did not reply, but sat in silence.
Flicker, as brave as he was thick-headed, picked up a vegetable pasty and bit into it. Right away, as the cheesy gravy erupted like magma rushing up to the surface, Flicker let out a whimper and pulled the pasty away. It dribbled bubbling cheesy gravy, green peas, little bits of potato, bright orange carrots, and little pearl onions down Flicker’s chin.
The colt was quick with his napkin and the burns were kept to a minimum. He put the pasty down upon the saucer beside his vin brulé and kept wiping at his chin, scowling, his eyes filled with a thousand promises of murder for the vegetable pasty that had dared to defy him. Across the table, Piper rolled her eyes and snorted.
“I think it’s mocking you,” Hennessy said to Flicker.
“Don’t encourage him,” Piper snapped as she turned to look at Hennessy. “Nopony should ever look at a vegetable pasty like that. It’s unsettling.”
“Yeah, but I like it. Sorta. It makes me feel safe.” Hennessy looked down at the ruptured golden brown pasty that was spilling out bubbling cheesy gravy. “Flicker, he’s scary and all, and my father, he was scary, but Flicker is the sorta scary I can live with. I saw how he was with his sister.”
Flicker, listening to his friends discussing his moods, had nothing to say, but glared down at his pasty in contempt as he lifted his mug. He inhaled the fragrant, spicy steam, was soothed by it, and the thousand promises of murder in his eyes dropped down to a far more manageable number, around five hundred or so.
For Flicker, it was an expression that could almost pass for happy.
Oh damn, I'm catching emotions!
Must be a particularly virulent strain, considering even Flicker caught it.
Death lvl 500 : happy
Death lvl 1000 : kill pastry
Rats? It's over 9000!!
While I have read the other weedverse stories this chapter is strait forward. It could to me stand alone though I'd be pondering the characters.
7787080
The Chapel of Night, the mention of Luna's husband, there is much continuity in this chapter.
Flicker should stay away from Piping hot pasties & concentrate on Piping Hot Pies with chickHennessy corn dogs!
7787093 I thought your note was about the pasties. Was still confused.
Statue makes sense though :P
7787093 Yes but not so much that you'd be totally lost without the other chapters and stories
I feel like I have a better understanding of Luna after reading this, and I cherish her even more because of it.
Valuable insights all around. I hope the trio get to meet her some day.
7787077 It's technically "over 8,000!"
But 9,000 is technically over 8,000 so I'll let this slide.
I'm guessing this came up in the Swan's stories then, as those are the only one's I haven't read.
But considering I've read almost all of your other works I have a pretty good idea of how Luna got the short end of the stick.
7787193
You know, that is really insulting, completely unnecessary, and untrue.
No one got the short end of the stick, and if you are ignorant to the events that took place, you have no right, no right to say what you just said, as it is insulting to me as the writer, and my work, which I put a lot of effort into, and just plain insulting in general.
And that's all I have to say on the matter.
7787221
Okay, from what I've seen of Luna in the Weedverse she's not all that different from her depictions in the The Chase.
Granted she has a fraction of the screen time, but based on evidence given I made a guess based on said evidence. As you felt like taking a dig at the folks that have no desire to read every installment how are you offended that we're ignorant of it?
We're supposed to catch those two figures... I'm trying my damndest to place them from your stories... Errands and tasks, errands and tasks... Who was passing through Fillydelphia in that manner? ... ... We don't get any further hints, do we?
7787235
She is significantly different than she is elsewhere.
And that's pretty much all I'll say on the subject.
7787246
Okay, so if she's significantly different, but that only affects the Swan Arcs where she has any screen time, why did you dig at those of us that were confused about the Chapel of Night or her meek depiction there in?
There's no real time travel, so the dead husband doesn't come into play.
She's once again not all the popular as her church is empty at night.
You've said she's married but it's clearly more of a Celestia thing.
I'm all for waiting to see how she has any impact in PTSFFF or TMMTP but unless I'm missing something Luna has had almost no impact in the Weedverse outside of her animus clone and her post diamond dog pup cameo with Twilight in VI.
7787258
It was never intended as a dig, for one thing, as that implies malice.
And for two, I am not going to condense almost 200,000 words into a few sparse reasons, as that would destroy context.
For some stories though, such as this one, it really does help to understand some of the background info, but it isn't entirely necessary. It just helps to flesh things out, that's all, or it leaves the door open for curiousity and investigation.
What?
Sorry, let me explain.
This seems like it was building up for a bit, yet didn't really get much of a hint of this in the scene. Was Flicker just in his own thoughts and ignoring the outside world (barring Luna's statue) so much he didn't really notice Hennessey's breakdown until that point?
But otherwise I very much enjoyed this chapter, and the last half was touching and kind of funny. I sincerely hope someone does a picture of Lord Death of Murder Mountain murderously staring with murder in his eyes at a vegetable pasty that he looks at with the deepest murderous intent he can gather.
7787268
Yes. Flicker sort of missed it. That is the subtle implication here. He is dense and thick headed. I intentionally left the details sparse, so that people paying attention would see it, rather than just tell them, "Hey, Hennessy is having a breakdown and Flicker is obvious."
People more observant and astute would obviously get the details that Flicky is missing.
Edit. Flicker has tunnel vision. He is utterly incapable of focusing on too much at once. This has been established. He's a pony with built in blinders. See also: his encounter with Piper on the train where he didn't know what he had done wrong.
This... resonates.
A silver plaque from a Bronze source.
7787180 [youtube=SiMHTK15Pik]
Meh, I'll get over it.
7787077
Death lvl 2000: Exploding bears
Death lvl 3500: Get my chainsaw
7787326
Dragon ball misconceptions video.
I recommend the whole video if you're a fan of Dragon Ball but if you are not. Start at 1:20and end at 2:20 in the video.
Hah, exactly what I was wondering about.
Interesting theory about Luna and masks and the source of the Nightmare.
"Deploy the dynamite."
Im assuming Gos commissioned the statue so.
I mean, i guess reading Perilous Rmoance would help a tad.
#1 Great Chapter!
#2 How am I supposed to finish The Chase Kudzu, when you keep churning out Weed 'Verse stories at such an incredible rate?! @.@
7787633 death level next == FETCH ME MUSKET
Missing a period at the end of this sentence.
You know, you are literally the only person who can write gay romance that feels normal and that I like.
Like most of the time it either feels forced or super bad. Like "ok I get it they're gay stop bashing me with it".
But nope you manage to flesh out the characters and make it work.
Kudos.