Obsidian: Daughter of Sombra

by Randimaxis

Thirty Five: Mica

This time, Obsidian found her and her two friends in what appeared to be a big city.

Around them was a bit of a fog that seemed to obscure the rest of the place... except for the building directly in front of them. It seemed to have floors upon floors, and soared high enough to where the top was obscured by cloud cover. A sign outside gave the building a proper label:

[ Library of Information: Equestrian Services, Inc. ]

Obsidian looked at Cupcake, then at Thunderclap. "Er... does anything here make any sense to either one of you?" she asked, hoping they would be able to properly explain to her what they were seeing in front of them.

Cupcake shook his head, and Thunderclap simply shrugged. "I guess if we wanna know," she said, "we'll have to go inside this weird place to find out, right?"

As it seemed there wasn't exactly much they would be able to do just standing in the middle of the empty street, Obsidian sighed and moved towards the strange building, her friends right behind her.

The doors opened automatically, and they made their way inside. There was no front desk, no reception area, no one waiting to greet them; it was just an entranceway into what appeared to be an office workfloor, filled with cubicles and workstations.

The atmosphere here was one that had more in common with Sombra's slave pits than any Equestrian businesses; all around them were ponies that all looked exactly the same; even their washed-out coat colors and drab suits and dresses all seemed to blend into each other when they passed in the hall.

However, the biggest (and creepiest) detail was that each and every one of them had loudspeaker boxes attatched to the front of their muzzles, where their mouths should have been. They were like watching ants, making their way from one area to another, showing each other not even a single, solitary hint of emotion or acknowledgement in their routine paths.

How in the wide, wide world of Equestria was this supposed to be a nightmare for the stoic Mica? This didn't make much sense to Obsidian; maybe he was afraid of a drab workplace? Pondering the thought - and coming up mentally emptyhooved - she looked over the desks and cubicles, hoping for a sign of their earth pony friend among the professionally boring masses.

It didn't take long to find whom they were looking for, fortunately.

Over in the far corner, at the very back of the office space, was a single cubicle where there were mounds of paperwork that were piled higher than the walls, and a small hill of even more papers surrounding the solitary desk. Due to the gry cubicle walls anound the worker inside, much couldn't be made out properly... but the posture and hairstyle of Mica Chip could be seen from behind. From the motions he was making, he seemed to be working at a snail's pace, and his movements were listless and tedious, as if he was mostly working in a daze.

As they watched, one of the speaker-headed professionals made his way over, dropped a large load of papers into the 'INBOX' tray on the desk (which was already overflowing) and shouted at him in an ear-splitting volume:

"Princess Celestia set on taking the throne back from an ineffective Twilight Sparkle! Make sure it reaches the headlines! No pony uninformed!"

With those words spoken (well, more BLARED) to him, the speaker-head turned and walked away, leaving a still-slow-moving Mica to do... well, whatever it was that he was doing.

What in Tartarus was Mica nightmaring about? Was Mica afraid of, uh... boring paperwork? About working as a news-pony?
About Celestia returning to the throne to possibly resume her solar tyranny?

"Do you think perhaps the situation would allow him to get better if we just burned all these papers?" Obsidian asked curiously as she stared at the ocean of forms the surrounded the desk and the stallion seated within. Many of them were stamped so many times, they were impossible to read.

Cup scratched at his chin. "Hmmmmm... well, what sort of stuff do we know about Mica, and what could something like this mean for him?"

Thunderclap, as non-chalant as ever, just made her way over to the pony in question and leaned against the wall, making it teeter precariously. "Hey, Mica," she stared amicably enough, "what's shakin', hay... ba-... con..?"

When he turned to glance back at them, Obsidian saw what had made Thunderclap stop.

There he was, his muzzle looking sallow and gaunt, his eyes distant and drained... and, where his mouth once was, there was now a knot of stitches and sutures, along with what looked like seared flesh, moulded together. Over this, someone had stamped the word [VOID] in blaringly red ink.

Mica's mouth had been completely sealed, in what had to be the creepiest way Obsidian had ever seen... and she'd seen her most honourable father do some rather horrible things before.

Another speaker-head, oblivious to the three's arrival, walked past them as if they weren't even standing there and dumped another batch of papers into the wretched 'INBOX', then turned to face the mutilated Mica and blared:

"The foul usurper Obsidian surrenders in shame to the great and powerful Onyx; execution carried out last night! No pony uninformed!"

As the speaker-head tottered off, Clap looked over at Mica and frowned. "Yeah, that makes sense - Mica can't stand when anyone lies - he's always believed in the truth... no matter how bad it hurts. But a world where he's not just unable to speak that truth, but he's being forced to peddle lies?"

She stepped close to him and reached out to caress his mane. "Oh, Mica... I'm..." And her hoof went right through him, as if the pegasus mare was a ghost. "Wait... why can't I touch him?"

Cup shrugged. "From what I've seen from your nightmare, the only one who can interact with us when we're like this is Siddy, 'til she rouses us from our state. It's a plot-device thing."

"What?" Clap looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. "A plot device? What are you talking about, Cuppers?"

"Never mind," Cup said sheepishly as Mica just seemed to sigh heavily, then turn back to the massive reams of paperwork and write as lethargically as he could, his expression completely devoid of any true sign of consciousness.

Obsidian was still fairly certain that setting fire to everything that was here would be a fine plan... besides, sewing someone's mouth solidly shut was such an awful idea - any given slave subjected to such treatment would simply starve to death sooner or later... and just performing the surgery alone would take a good bit of time and effort. Meanwhile, merely putting a muzzle on them would work just as well, as it could be re-used for different slaves and...

Well, it didn't matter at all in these modern, slaveless times, right? It was just a small mental exercise; she didn't actually think about it for very long. Still, the sheer wastefulness of it...

Too bad that Thunderclap couldn't solve this problem; it seemed as though Obsidian's perfect plan to just get her free, then sit back and relax while the pegasus would easily rescue Mica wouldn't work. Oh, well - it had been a good plan too, she thought.

The Dark Princess trotted right over to Mica herself, and put a hoof on his shoulder to get his attention, and hopefully break him out of his monotonous workload through a simple touch.

"Onyx is going to have her stupid plot handed to her, and Obsidian and friends will celebrate her downfall with a delicious feast; no pony uninformed, Mica."

She leaned forward a bit to analyze his mouth, perhaps to discover if she could mayhaps free his mouth without hurting him. Maybe it was just a dream, but she didn't want to accidentially wake him up right in the middle of their small dream quest... especially under the current mental duress he must have been experiencing.

His soulless eyes saw nothing as he turned to look at her - no, through her - then he turned back towards his work...

And paused.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he turned back to look at Obsidian again. And those eyes, which had been bland and empty, now held the first ribbons of a question, as if he was just starting to wake up. His gaze drifted to the hoof on his shoulder, then squinted as he was apparently having an actual, real thought for what must have felt like the first time in ages.

"You're reaching him, Sids! Keep it up!" Clap cheered her on, her concern clearly visible on her nervous, yet hopeful muzzle.

"Yeah!" Cup added with enthusiasm. "Yank him right out of his bad-dream-having state!"

"And you know what?" she continued, "I just so happen to have with me a beautiful pegasus mare that would surely love to have a great deal of fun with you - in a rather racy swimsuit, no less! And she would perhaps even wish to have foals with you or, uh, do the whole, um... the whole nine yards thing!"

Thunderclap mentioned something like that before - so it sounded like it was possibly a good way to reach her friend right now. She still had no clue what a yard had to do with anything in this particular context - let alone NINE of them - but if it reached Mica, she was willing to give it a try.

Mica blinked at her. He then gave himself a look-over, slowly - as if moving in molasses - and then returned his gaze to her, uncomprehension in his eyes as he apparently was trying to figure out what was going on with himself. Cupcake stood close, his muzzle a portrait of suspense, while Clap kept chanting 'c'mon, Mikey,' under her breath.

Again he blinked, then started to go back to his paperwork... and once more, he stopped, looking confused.

"Is it working? Is it WORKING?" Clap stared at Mica intently. "Dangit, even if they DID see that stupid photo, don't give up, Chippie! You can do this! FIGHT IT!"

Mica make a weird, muffled sound, then reached up and felt around his mouth... after which, his eyes went to Obsidian, seeking understanding... or at least an explanation.

Well, it WAS a bit more of a delicate operation than she was usually used to doing, but she had to try - especially as this was just a dream, after all, and she probably didn't have to worry about things like permament facial scars... or other kinds of damage.

So, stepping lightly to his side, she started to both heal Mica's mouth and, at the same time, carefully undo the numerous ties and strings that were making it impossible for him to speak. As the energies rolled out of her, she could feel a definite sense of Light coming from the very center of her soul, awashing her friend in its' protective glow. Slowly, the scars and stitches vanished, and as she watched, Mica started to regain his (admittedly subdued) color.

"Uhhhhh... uhb... s-sidd... eee... uhnnn?" Mica said blearily as his mouth was finally free to open once more. It sounded as if he was trying to speak through a tub of jelly, his voice thick and murky.

Successful, she smiled as she lightly patted his head. "I would have never thought I'd be so happy to hear your voice, Mica! Do you feel better now? Are you ready to burn every last one of these papers and go do something far more interesting and engaging with us?"

Mica stood up slowly and looked around a bit, rubbing his head as he gradually took on the form she already knew so well, the drab suit he had been sporting fading like mist as he regained himself. After looking at her for a moment, he glanced over her flank to see who was accompanying her.

"Cup? Well, I have to say I'm glad to see you're- THUNDERCLAP!"

"No, I'm just me," Cupcake answered, with a smirk.

Mica leapt up with a grand smile and threw his forelegs around Clap, and she followed suit, squeezing him tightly without even so much as a tiny pop from the earth pony's back. The two hugged each other for a solid minute, then Mica turned to look at Obsidian as he took on his neutral expression once more.

"Allow me to take a guess; we've all been cast into a deep sleep and divided up mentally due to a spell from Onyx, and you're gradually working to bring us all back together, am I right? And I assume Cupcake and Thunderclap were your first stops?"

"HA! Good to see there's no dust on your brain-pan, Chipperino!" Clap smiled.

"So," he looked to Obsidian again, "if you would be so kind as to indulge me, what are the details of our current situation?"

It was wonderful that this had worked out so well; thankfully, it seemed as if the rescuing of her friends wasn't going to be very difficult... well not physically, anyway; some of these scenes she was seeing were a bit mentally off-putting, to be fairly honest.

"We are trapped within our nightmares; in order to have a chance to remove ourselves from this situation, we need to gather together. If you would assist, Mica, it would help move our plight forward if you could start thinking about Stalwart... at least until something connected in some way to her appears, allowing us direct passage into her nightmare to rescue her, if at all possible. Then, we repeat the entire process in order to locate and liberate Gypsy."

She nodded firmly to herself. "Once we manage to locate everyone in our group and make our remarkable fellowship whole again, we can try to return to the waking world once more... and prove to Onyx that mistreating one's younger siblings is often a very bad idea."

Hmmm... how very strange; it was the first dream without Ruby's presence among them; a bit concerning. Well, hopefully she was still nearby and merely trying to conserve some of her energy. The alternative could be unpleasant to consider.

Mica nodded. "Thank you; I can't even begin to explain the personal horror I was experiencing at having myself stuck in a nightmare of this caliber."

He then began to glance around. "Right, so I suppose the next question would be, where would a load of speaker-faced liars keep their armory? If indeed this is a dream, then it stands to reason that we can control things to a degree."

"Wait," Clap asked, "you're saying WE are the ones choosing what's in our dreams? Like, Nyxie's just reaching into our skulls and pulling out what's there?"

Cup shrugged. "Kinda-sorta? I think the nightmares might possibly be projections of our inner psyche, an abstract idea of what haunting fears may have fermented within our own subconsciousness..."

Clap and Mica stared at him for a moment, taken aback. Cup looked between them. "What? I'm not allowed to be a smarty-smart sometimes, too?"

"But... why are you searching for their armory?" Obsidian asked, a bit surprised. Did Mica want to kill all these liars with his own two hooves? She'd never suspected him of being so bloodthirsty! However, contrary to Clap and Mica, she wasn't surprised by Cupcake's sudden busrt of intellectualism; after all she'd seen of him, if she was still so prone to being surprised by his actions, she wouldn't have time for much of anything else.

Mica looked at Obsidian and lifted an eyebrow. "Where else would one find a sword or a shield, both things that would lead to Stalwart, I would think."

Clap nodded. "Yeah, I'll say - that little mare's a heckuva fighter! Okay, Mikey - that makes sense! So... if I were a sword... where would I be hiding..?"

Cup began searching around. "Heeeeeeere, swordy, swordy, swordy, swordy..."

"Well, considering that I found the particular objects leading to you and Thunderclap in places where they really shouldn't have been... especially the one that brought us to you, Mica... I would say that we may have to search odd places where we wouldn't suspect them to be."

Obsidian rubbed her temple; in a way Mica was making perfect sense, but she was sure that they would just as likely trip over a suspiciously displayed full set of extra-small Royal Guard armor. She should at least try to focus on Stalwart... like when she was staunchly defending the bridge to Twilight's Palace, or standing against Tourmaline and kicking his mewling flank, that time when he tried to ambush her. Or maybe even the time when she was standing her ground and not fighting those bullying griffons...

And sure enough, there it was - and it wasn't some big, brash suit of armor, or a sword, or even a helmet; it was a recruiting poster for the Equestrian Royal Guard.

[Do you feel the need to PROTECT your fellow Equestrians? JOIN THE EQUESTRIAN ROYAL GUARD!]

[There is always room for those who believe in JUSTICE!]

It was half-buried under a mound of paperwork on Mica's desk, and it was the only thing there that held any color to it at all.

"Hey, I found it, here it is," she said as she carefully took the recruitment poster out from the mound of backlogged announcements. Ha, she was right again - they didn't even need any armory at all!

Cup pouted. "You're too good at this; I haven't even found a single one!"

Mica nodded to him. "As long as it gets found at all, that's what matters; who finds it isn't as important. Go ahead, Siddy - do whatever it is that you do."

Clap chuckled, "Maybe you'll find the next one, Cuppers. Chin up, okay?"

Obsidian grabbed the poster and continued to think deeply about Stalwart - their group's cute little weapon of mass destruction who, despite her small size, was able to wreck numerous Umbrals, headbutt her brother into next week or stand stoically against a few pushy griffons. A really great friend, overall - though they'd most certainly have to work better on her integration into a bit more of a... peaceful life, as soon as this whole crisis was over, mayhaps?

The drab office cubicles and the disturbing speaker-heads around them melted away into grey blobs once again.

Author's Note:

Lies are things people use to manipulate others, or they can be things folks hide behind to cover their own mistakes. Either way, in the long run, they cause nothing but trouble. In Mica's case, however - being FORCED to put lies forward? That can be a different situation; our jobs might demand us to lie, or we might have a friend ask we lie on their behalf.

Integrity is taking a stand against things that are not true to who you really are; it may not be easy, but to have integrity is something that can help you sleep at night. You can look yourself in the mirror, make eye contact, and tell yourself that you did not compromise who you are inside. It might cost you that job or that friend, but ultimately, YOU are the only one who has to live inside your own mind; my choice would be to make it as guilt-free as possible, and to be proud of it.

Comments

[applezombi]

I feel like this is the best of the nightmares so far.

The description of the muzzle-speakers, at least, had the most surreal dream-like quality to them, while the other nightmares were a bit more straightforward.

Either way, it resonated the most with me.