#9
“Please please please?”
“No.”
“You always get to go into these places! It’s so boring having to stay with the wagon every time! I’m going crazy!”
“Crazier.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“...sorry.”
“This is serious!”
It was, indeed, serious.
The trip to try and get Cozy to somewhere no-one would know her was not going well. In fact it would not be far wrong to say that it was going poorly and was going in circles. Literally going in circles. They were running out of places to go.
This town coming up at least was one they hadn’t gone to before, but that put it in a distinct minority, and it was for this reason - coupled with burgeoning cabin (or wagon) fever - that Cozy felt she could take the risk of venturing in with Paul.
She had to do something!
Paul was less sure.
“I don’t know, Cozy. There’s no easy way to break this to you but it kind of looks like the net is closing in. Your reputation is preceding you pretty much everywhere at this point.”
“I don’t care please I just have to go somewhere and do something!”
“I don’t know…”
“I won’t even do anything bad! Not that I ever do. Or did! But I wouldn’t even do anything this time! Please please please! It’ll be okay, I’ll be careful! I’ll wear the hat.”
The hat that Paul had picked up a town or two back, the woolen one that was ever-so-slightly too big for Cozy’s head and practically covered her whole head when she put it on.
Getting the hat, he’d said, had been a practical purchase, her hairstyle being somewhat distinctive even with a hood pulled up. She’d questioned the wisdom of getting it given that she was told to stay in or with the wagon and out of sight. He hadn’t really been able to come up with an answer to that one.
She was giving him the big eyes again, and since he had to look away she knew for a fact that she was starting to gain ground. She stepped in around into his line of sight.
“Pllleeeaaassseee?”
Paul grimaced.
“You bloody...hmph. Alright, okay, yes, fine. But if you get rumbled you’re on your own, got it? I won’t help you out,” he said, warningly. Cozy saluted.
“Got it!”
Only afterwards did Cozy wonder why she’d even bothered asking for permission in the first place. Why didn’t she just go without asking? Did seem a bit odd. Too late now though, and she’d got her own way so who cared, really?
And so into town they went. Paul limping, Cozy wrapped up and disguised, hat and sunglasses and everything. Where the sunglasses had come from was unclear, but there they were.
In the event, sticking by Paul turned out to be a pretty smart move for Cozy - everypony in town was too busy gawking and staring at the clomping, tall, grumpy-looking alien to really notice or think much about the foal nipping about his ankles.
It was not long before they came across a sign that this town may not be the one for Cozy. A long, long stretch of wall entirely plastered with her wanted posters. At this point the reward was getting frankly ridiculous, like they’d had spare zeroes lying around.
Really! It was just excessive!
“That seems like too many posters,” Cozy said, peering up at her own face on the wall, over and over again. It left her feeling oddly blank, kind of numb. Paul was glancing about.
“Maybe not look too long. Suspicious,” he said.
Avoiding English while around and about others seemed a good idea. Odd enough being the strange creature with the foal wearing the big hat and dark glasses, odder still to be conversing in a language no-one else would even be able to recognise. Seemed best to limit risk.
“I’m just taking an active interest in the dangerous, highly-wanted criminal on the loose, that’s not suspicious. Everypony’s doing it. See! He is!” Cozy said.
She pointed. Further along a stallion was, indeed, looking at one of the posters.
“Hmph,” Paul grunted.
At the very least he had to admit she seemed happier now she’d got to come with him than she had the past few days. She’d got very...quiet lately. It had been unpleasant. Like she’d been washed out. As dangerous as this might have been, he supposed the tradeoff was worth it. Ish.
Certainly had the spring back in her step, which he found nice in a way he hadn’t expected. Given a choice between the chirpy, usually-lying, sunny Cozy Glow or the sullen, non-verbal and listless Cozy Glow he’d picked the former. If someone had a gun to his head, obviously.
He also didn’t much appreciate her attempts to flutter up sit on his shoulder, and his lack of appreciation for this led to her sulking aggressively at him from by his ankles for a few minutes until something caught her eye.
“Ooh! Balloons!” She squeaked.
Paul looked around. Balloons indeed, a whole stall of them some distance off, being sold to any who asked. Kids, mainly. Unsurprisingly.
“You like balloons?” He asked. She looked up at him as though he were mad.
“Of course I like balloons, silly! Balloons are fun!”
“...cannot tell if you are lying or not.”
Cozy blew her cheeks out, indignant.
“I don’t lie! Sometimes I’m just...selective about what I say,” she said. These distinctions were very important to her. Lying, she knew, was bad, so clearly whatever it was that she did was not lying. It had to be something else.
“Hmph. Is lying,” Paul pointed out.
Clearly he had no idea what he was talking about. Still annoyed Cozy, though.
“Hmph - see? See?! I can do it too! Not fun, is it?!”
Paul sighed, nodding towards the stall.
“You want balloon?” He asked.
“Why bother, I’m probably just lying!” She spat. Paul started walking.
“Getting you balloon, Cozy.”
The balloon stallholder finished up her transaction with a pair of very happy foals who went gambolling off with their purchases before she turned to Paul and baulked to see this huge hairy thing looming over her.
“Uh…” she went. Paul held up a hand, one finger.
“Balloon. One balloon, please. That one. Pink one. For my…”
He struggled to find what word could possibly fit here.
“...friend.”
The stallholder blinked at Paul, then looked down at the incognito Cozy, who was giving an extremely toothy smile.
“Uh…” the stallholder said. “Okay!”
Money changed hands (or hooves) and Cozy was then the proud, happy owner of a single pink balloon.
“Yay!” She cried.
Cute whether she was lying or not, Paul had to admit, and it did keep her occupied while he pottered about and picked up a few sundries they needed to keep the journey going. He even managed to sell the last of the toys he’d brought with him, the others having gone to keep things moving on prior to this point.
And once that was done, he even got Cozy some ice cream.
“You keep buying me food,” she said, cautiously optimistic as he set the bowl down in front of her, having picked out a covert nook away from the hustle and bustle and, importantly, the few knots of guards dotted about the place. Really couldn’t move for them these days.
Not that they ever seemed to do much...
“You not like ice cream?” He asked.
Given her enthusiasm for the balloon he had just kind of assumed. Rightly, as it happened.
“Obviously I like ice cream, I just want to know why.”
“Always why with you, Cozy! Not always a why, you know?” He said. But then he was forced to admit: “Food keep you occupied. I am going to take a leak. Over there.”
He pointed off aside and out of the nook they’d settled into. Cozy did not really get what he was hinting at.
“What?”
He leaned in.
“I’m going for a piss in that alley.”
“Ew! Why did you tell me that?!”
Paul chuckled. Something to be said for making kids disgusted.
“Just so you know. Stay here. Eat ice cream,” he said.
“You better wash up after,” Cozy said, her tongue stuck out, appalled. Paul scoffed.
“You are child! I am meant to tell you that! Stay here. Enjoy ice cream. Try not to make scene. I come back.”
“Yeah yeah yeah…”
And off he went, leaving her on own, tucked away out of sight.
Happily licking at her ice cream, humming a jaunty little tune to herself, Cozy had to admit that she felt better today than she had in, well, about as long as she could remember, actually.
Sure, she was being actively hunted the length-and-breadth of the land and apparently everypony in the whole world despised her and wanted to see her locked away forever but, like Paul said, you had to laugh, didn’t you?
And at least she had ice cream. And a balloon!
So happy was Cozy that she didn’t even really care about the two ponies passing by ahead of the nook who were chatting. She didn’t even care when they stopped there to finish up their chat, or even care when one of them wandered off and the one that stayed looked around and spotted her.
And did a double-take. Lone child? Could be nothing, but could also be in trouble!
“Hey, you,” he said, approaching.
Now Cozy cared.
“Hmm? Oh! Hello mister! Uh, c-can I - can I help you?” She asked, hurriedly tugging her hat down a little more and pulling the cloak about herself that much tighter, adjusting her sunglasses. The stallion got closer, head tilted.
“What are you doing here all on your own? You okay?” He asked.
Cozy swallowed.
“Me? Just - I’m just waiting for my…”
She struggled to find what word could possibly fit here.
“...friend. Haha. Hah!”
Should have come out easily. Always used to come out easily! Why did it stick this time?!
“Alright,” he said, eyes narrowed. He’d arrived at the table tucked into the nook now. He was practically on top of her. He leaned in, Cozy leaned back. “Do I know you?” He asked.
“Me? No! I’m just, you know, somepony! Nopony, really!”
“No, I know you from somewhere, let me see…” he said, frowning, attention fixed onto her.
He moved in closer, closer, and Cozy - being in a nook that had until recently felt so snug and secure - quickly ran out of places to back into.
“Hey, hey! Watch it! What are you-”
Extending a hoof he lifted up her sunglasses.
His face lit up with recognition.
“I do know you! You’re-”
This was as far as he got before Paul came back, his shadow falling across the pony, sun blocked out completely.
“What are you doing with the child?” Paul asked in about the most ice-cold tone of voice that Cozy had ever heard from him.
The stallion turned, ready to remonstrate, only to come face-to-belly with Paul and flinch, momentarily losing his train of thought on being confronted with something so sudden and so big.
“Whoa, big thing. I mean what? Don’t you know who this is? That’s Coz-”
Again, interrupted, this time by Paul cold-cocking the stallion right across the jaw and dropping him like a sack of potatoes.
“Ow, son of a whore,” Paul hissed to himself, shaking out his hand (which was still wet from when he’d washed it in a trough, because he was an adult, not because Cozy had told him to), looking down at what he’d just done. “Shit. Alright, we have to go.”
Without another word he reached, scooped Cozy up under one arm and set off at a run. Or, rather, what was pretty much just a brisk, uneven jog. Cozy was so taken-aback by this rapid-fire series of events she was momentarily lost for words.
“My ice cream!” Was all she could manage, legs kicking.
“I’ll get you another one. Fuck, which way? This way.”
He picked a direction at random, momentum banging him into a wall and sending him swaying and wobbling off at speed, Cozy still clutched under one arm.
Behind them came a shout:
“Hey! Guards! Guards! It’s Cozy Glow! And some big thing! They went that way! That way!” Followed by a quieter bit: “Ow my face...”
“Guess I don’t hit as hard as I used to, hmph. Getting old. Alright, fine,” Paul, pausing, ducked into the nearest alley and came to a halt, lifting Cozy up in front of him with both hands. “You, Cozy, you got those little wings, right?”
“Yeah?” She asked, dangling.
“You can fly properly using those?”
That was just insulting.
“Of course I can fly!”
“Thought so. Well off you go.”
He gave her a bounce up but she did not take to the air and just landed back in his hands again, baffled.
“What?”
“Fucking fly! Away!”
“What? Just run?”
“Well, fly, but yes! Go, go!”
It didn’t make sense.
“What’ll you do?”
“Why do you care? Limp after you, probably, and be a bit of a distraction.”
“They’ll catch you though. They know you were with me.”
Did he not know that?
“So? You didn’t grow a conscience at some point in the last few weeks, did you?”
That one stung.
“Shut up! I just - it doesn’t - I don’t know!”
“This is the real deal, kid, you have to go, right now! I didn’t drag you halfway across the bloody map just you could get caught now! Go! Go!”
“But-”
“No but’s! Once I’ve made a miraculous escape we can pick this up! I’ll buy you another ice cream! Fuck, I’ll buy you two! For now you have to go, go!”
None of this made sense. She should go. It made sense to go! There was no reason not to go! And he would just slow her down. Just leave him behind and go!
But if she left him behind then - then -
...then he wouldn’t be able to take the hit for her the next time! Yeah!
That worked!
...didn’t it?
Paul grunted.
“I’m throwing you on the count of three so you better be ready, damnit,” he said, shifting around and pulling back one arm, getting ready to toss Cozy like a javelin. Her eyes widened.
“Throwing?!”
“You don’t seem to want to go so I’m helping you! One!”
“Just keep going! Keep running! Carry me!” She shouted, struggling but getting nowhere.
“Nope, too slow. Two!”
“They’ll catch you!”
“Who cares? Three!”
And he hurled her through the air.
Cozy couldn’t really speak to his punching-ponies-in-the-face abilities but his throwing-fillies-through-the-air abilities were pretty good if she was any judge, finding herself tumbling end-over-end and up and out of the alleyway, clear of the surroundings and above the rooftops.
Helped that she was little, really.
Reflexively her wings shot out and, by chance, caught a very timely stiff breeze, yanking her away almost at once. Very confused, she just went with it, entirely baffled why she felt so unhappy about escaping. Why didn’t she feel good about this? It made no sense!
Paul, meanwhile, watched her go and then turned around.
A good dozen or more guards came skittering and clattering to a halt at the head of the alleyway, spotting Paul immediately. He matched the description they’d been given, and he was rather hard to miss.
“Halt! Criminal scum, you violated the law!” Bellowed the lead guard, the one with the most and most impressive plumes.
“You have me mistaken for someone else,” Paul said.
The guards experienced a momentary ripple of doubt before the lead guard calmed their minds:
“He’s trying to pull a criminal trick on us, men! Stand firm!”
That bolstered them, and they started to approach. Paul stood his ground. Not really anything else he could do.
“Where is the criminal Cozy Glow?” The lead guard asked.
“Who?”
None of them fell for his wily tricks this time.
“The criminal you were helping escape!”
Paul made a big show of looking around, spreading his arms.
“Only me here.”
“She may be hiding in the dustbins, men! Start rummaging!”
Some of them got to doing just that, the rest though remained focused on Paul and continued to advance. Some were coming from the other end of the alley, too.
“Surrender!” The lead guard shouted. These sorts of things had to be shouted.
Paul shrugged.
“Okay, I accept. Do not have room for all of you. Will have to squeeze up in wagon.”
“...what?”
Paul groaned. Put his fists up.
“Joke, idiots. Let us get this over with.”
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... Really? You went with the Oblivion guard dialogue?
10064554
I'm HILARIOUS.
Also, hey, Oblivion is, like, fourteen years old that joke is now A VINTAGE CLASSIC.
You've really been updating like clockwork, it's been very time consuming.
One annoyed Anon vs country bumpkin guards, or at least the Canterlot guards who messed up enough to get a posting in the middle of nowhere. Who's going to win? Guess it's time for Anon to unveil his secret stashed away weapon hidden in his leg.
10064584
Heh, time consuming for you or for me? Like I said, I finished this days ago!
10064587
I would assume both. It's been nice to have a new chapter every morning to read at work.
10064588
Well I live to serve.
Nearly done though!
Looks like Cozy's admitadly adorable antics have gotten her and Cozy into trouble. Hopefully the guards won't get any smarter so escape would be easy. Also it's very nice to see Cozy slowly becoming a better pony over time.
10064596
Glad it's not coming across as, uh, forced or anything.
Phew, good to know they're just like regular Oblivion guard idiots. Hopefully they're as agile as them, so at least one is going to smash his face against a wall.
Well, obviously they're not going to be posting their best guards to some back-end-of-nowhere hick town...
10064655
One time in Oblivion I came across two of those huntsman-type guards just out in the wilderness firing arrows at one another because...well...Oblivion and I watched this and one killed the other and I go up to him and his first words are "I've got my eye on you."
YOU JUST KILLED YOUR MATE, SON! Why you watching me?!
10064672
My idea is that, at this point, there's just GUARDS EVERYWHERE.
Now for paul to reveal his Secret Weapon.
10064753
For some reason my first thought there was that video of "A weapon to surpass Metal Gear" and it's just a big floppy dick attached to the most unnessecarily large machine ever and it starts spinning.
No! I'm not linking it!
10064759
*Guards Prepare to Arrest Paul, paul taps a button hidden in his prosthetic leg.*
*Menacing Hum. Giant bipedal metal monstrosity steps out of the forest.*
[REACTOR: ONLINE]
[SENSORS: ONLINE]
[WEAPONS: ONLINE]
[ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL]
*stands next to pool*
Guard: *glitches and jumps into the pool before being eaten by a giant shark that wasn’t there five seconds ago*
Just your average day in Skyri- I mean, Oblivion.
i would have used race card
what so me not pony makes me criminal?
guard: er what no of cource no..
help being discriminate against guard-brutality
guard: no nonono sir we not trying to
oh god they plan on murdering me someone help
guards have meltdown
etc theses guards would not be able to handle that
10064765
That's not really in keeping with the spirit of the show...
10064810
I should have made a Morrowind joke, really. That would have been much more refined.
10064820
Just hear their little pony brains pop. Bit late now though, poor chap.
10064834
You could probably make a joke about paul having taken an arrow to the knee to explain his leg.
10064861
I have some standards.
10064864
Oh yeah? Well I don't, and I'd still laugh at that joke.
10064915
All the guards came fresh from a rash of sweetroll thefts.
10064833
The spirit of the show died in season five. So all's fair.
10065017
Hey! That's where I'm up to! Fancy that.
10065017
i'd say three.
Well hopefully noone takes an arrow to the knee.