A Dangerous Game
“Archer?”
Twilight made her way down the rickety basement stairs. She was only here because Archer had been missing for two straight hours. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have come down here. Weird things happened here. What Pinkie called “Science!” happened here. Occasionally, explosions happened here. She could be forgiven for a little trepidation.
“Pinkie? You down here?”
The sounds of clattering metal and a whispering pony were her only answer.
“Pinkie, answer me, or I’m coming down there!”
Something buzzed in a manner most “Science!”-y. Never a good sign.
“Pinke! Archer! One of you answer me right now!”
“Um... Hey, Twilight! We’re down here.”
The junk made navigating the basement harder than it should have been. When she finally found the two, they were tinkering away at a very large, very ominous, very supposed-to-be-turned-off-forever device.
“Pinkie Pie, come here please.”
The sugared-up pony bounced off the top of the contraption and stuck the landing directly in front of Twilight.
“Hi!”
“Pinkie, turn around and tell me what you see.”
She did so. Her frizzy mane deflated a tad when she realized what was about to happen.
“Oops.”
“Yeah, ‘oops’. I cannot believe you! Archer is apparently first new gadgeteer to come into Ponyville in years, and definitely the only human to come into Ponyville... well, ever, and you’ve shanghaied him into helping you complete the Thermonuclear Party Popper? The one that Princess Celestia personally told you never to finish?”
“It was his idea!”
Pinkie pointed an incriminating hoof at the human, who was currently welding something on top of the massive festive explosive. The bright, noisy sparks spraying out from whatever he was working on left him oblivious to the conversation about him below.
“Does he even know what this is?”
“Well....” Pinkie shrunk a bit. “No. No, he doesn’t.”
Twilight disappeared in a flash of light without another word.
***
Archer was vaguely aware of a burning sensation in his ears. Either someone was talking about him, or he had spent far too much time slaving over this bundle of wiring.
The magic purple unicorn that had just materialized in front of him could be evidence either way, really.
“Archer, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stop what you’re doing.”
He looked up. So she was real, and he wasn’t delusional from the heat of the welding pins. Yet. Wait, did she say to stop? Why?
“Why?”
“You’re constructing, however unwittingly, a Weapon of Mass Distraction, all of which were ordered to be dismantled four hundred years ago at the Geneighva Convention. Since then, anyone found working on one must immediately disable it. If you don’t... well, no offense, Archer, but you’re in pretty deep manure already.”
Archer sighed, pocketing the pins and leaning over the side of the massive tube.
“Pinkie!”
“Yes?” answered the ant-sized pink shape below.
“I don’t think ‘it’s a surprise’ is going to cut it anymore. What does it do, really?”
“Well.... It’s supposed to spread sugary goodness everywhere! Set it off, and everyone in a half-mile radius gets the best sugar high EVER!” She bounced on that last word.
“...Right before dying in the most horrific manner possible,” finished Twilight. “Ponies can’t handle exposure to the fallout for more than a couple of seconds,” she explained to Archer. “Even a few minutes would be fatal to anything more mortal than Princess Celestia herself.”
She leaned over with Archer to yell at Pinkie some more.
“...And you should know this, seeing as how I’ve stopped you working on this no fewer than seven times, I’ve had to take parts out of it myself no fewer than five, and I’m pretty sure at one point I had to lie to the Princesses about it even being here!”
With every emphasized word, Pinkie shrank more and more into herself, like she was trying to disappear. Why she didn’t do just that (for Archer had seen her disappear before, several times in fact) was unclear.
“I’m sorry... I just...”
Twilight flashed again, taking Archer with her to the ground floor. Pinkie appeared to have been deflated, like someone had let the air out of her and her originally-quite-poofy mane.
“No more excuses, Pinkie. I’m through letting you slide, however good a friend you might be. This is a dangerous piece of techmaturgy and I will be banished before I let you add a single bolt more to it!”
“Twilight, I don’t think-”
“Please, Archer. This doesn’t concern you.” Twilight turned back to Pinkie. “I’m sorry, Pinkie, but if I catch you trying to complete a WMD in your basement one more time, I’m going to have to report you to the Royal Guard. Come on, Archer. We need to go.”
Wordlessly, Archer followed Twilight upstairs and out of Sugarcube Corner, with Pinkie silently trailing behind. Twilight left, muttered something about being right back, leaving the two tinkers alone outside the sweet shop’s door.
“I’m... I’m really sorry about nearly turning you into a war criminal, Archer.”
“Well...” Archer brushed a small stain of Rocky Road and axle grease out of his collar. “No harm, no foul, I suppose. At least I know to ask next time.”
Pinkie’s ears perked up. “Next time?”
“Sure. We’re still on for making that hovercart on Wednesday, right?”
In an instant, the color returned to Pinkie’s face, her mane reinflated, and Archer could swear he smelled a hint of cotton candy in the air. He could also swear he was being bear-hugged by a bright pink horse, but that was a little more obvious.
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAY! You’re the best best friend EVER! I thought you would be so mad and you’d never wanna see me or play with me or talk to me ever again!”
“Begging your pardon, Pinkie, but-” He gagged. “-if you don’t let go, I might not talk to anyone ever again.”
“Oh, sorry.”
As soon as Pinkie released him, he sprang away, gasping for air - beautiful, oxygenated, not-cotton-candy-flavored air. In the presence of anyone else, it would have appeared overly dramatic, even cartoonish. To Pinkie and the various Equestrians going about their business nearby, it was just a normal day around Sugarcube Corner.
***
Far, far away from Ponyville, past the Everfree forest and over the Vorlanian mountain range, as far removed from our previous scene as possible both in location and spirit, was a town.
It was a filthy little town. In it were filthy little streets. On one of those streets was a filthy little house, in which a filthy little woman raised her two daughters. All they had to live on was a filthy little paycheck her son sent home every month doing his filthy little job scouring the borders of the kingdom for new and interesting ways to die.
Until today.
A heavy fist pounded on the door. The woman stumbled to the door, yelled something about what time it was, and how dare they disturb her and her family, and so on. She immediately fell silent on seeing the royal colors on her visitors’ uniforms.
“Are you the mother of this man?”
The officer held up a piece of parchment, depicting an unruly, dirty-faced man.
“Hmm, let’s see. Ugly, hairy, hasn’t shaved in at least a week... Yep, that’s my son if I’ve ever seen him.”
“I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”
She sighed, more resigned than grief-stricken.
“He’s dead, isn’t he.”
“No, ma’am. We’ve merely lost contact with him.”
“I knew it. He’s dead.”
The officer sighed, and drew out a small bag that jingled enticingly as it shook.
“The kingdom regrets the possible loss of your son. We hope you will accept our compensation in the form of a pension, to be provided on a weekly basis unless and until your son is found alive.”
The officer handed the pouch over, and left without so much as a “good day”.
Upon opening the bag, the woman stifled a scream. She looked around, begging nothing in particular not to have let anyone hear her, and slammed the door shut as she hid inside the house. Inside the coin purse was something she hadn’t seen in a long time.
Golden sterlings.
The highest denomination of coin in the kingdom, and she held thirty of them in her hands. The last time she had seen a gold sterling was twelve years ago, when a duke tipped her for giving him directions to King Jove’s castle.
And now she had more of them than she knew what to do with.
“Girls!” she yelled, to the two siblings upstairs. “For all our sakes, you better pray he's dead this time!”
***
“You got my bow and arrows back?”
It was a surprise, Twilight had said. And Archer certainly was surprised.
“Yep. I figure there’s a tiny chance you might need it, considering where we’re headed....”
Archer stopped walking. “Where we’re headed?”
“Oh, stop it. We’re just visiting another friend’s house, and she lives pretty close to the woods.”
“Oh.” He started walking again. “But why give me my kit back? I thought I was a ‘dangerous criminal’.”
“I convinced the Mayor to give it back because I want you to stop thinking that. However long you have to stay here, you’re a guest at my house, and... well....”
“You want me to be your friend.”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “You must have really poor judgement, if you’re coming to me.”
“...What?”
This time it was Twilight who stopped. She stared at him with a confused expression.
“I mean I’m not exactly the most decent human being you could meet, Miss Sparkle. You caught me wandering as far away as possible from the rest of my kind for a reason.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Well, let me see. I was too brusque to run a tailor shop, too lazy for the blacksmith to apprentice me, I slept in too late for a farm to hire me, my manners were far too crass to grace the servant halls of even the most easygoing nobleman...” He paused to inhale. “..My swordplay is dodgy, I can’t handle artillery duty well, and discipline in general never worked out for me, so that’s every branch of the military, gone. In the end, I shot stuff for a living because that's all I'm good at.”
“So... why do you want to go back so much? It sounds like you hate it there.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love the kingdom. I just can’t stand some of the people.”
Twilight laughed. “Believe me, I feel the exact same way sometimes.”
***
“This is a house?”
“We have a library just like it.”
“Fair enough.”
It was a tree. It had all the hallmarks of a house seemingly pasted onto it, but it looked like a tree. Archer couldn’t shake the feeling that if he opened the door, he’d somehow end up with bark embedded in his face.
Whoever lived here had done their best to make the path to the tree a pleasant walk. Flowers festooned the sides of the road, with tiny animals scurrying to and fro just beyond the fence separating the walkway from the imposing forest nearby. It was idyllic.
Last time Archer visited a Fairy’s house, he’d received a crash course on the dangers of “idyllic.”
An airy, wordless song floated through the air. It had all the hallmarks of Fae music - light, cheerful, and with a simple melody that had a tendency to lodge in one’s brain. Whether it was intended to charm him or not, Archer couldn’t tell. He’d done his best to block out the sound as soon as he realized it was there. Magic music was dangerous business.
At the door, Twilight knocked. The singing stopped. A faint noise sounded inside the tree/house.
“It’s me, Twilight. I wanted to show you something!”
The noise came again, a little louder.
“Yes, I remembered.”
The door creaked open a tad, not enough for Archer to see through, and he heard the noise again. Was the tree talking to her?
“Yes, I promise. Now come on out! I brought a visitor!”
The door opened further, and a yellow, pink-haired Equestrian peeked its head out It muttered something in a maddeningly soft voice. That explained the noise, at least.
“He’s right over there.”
It looked at him, squeaked, and slammed the door.
“Well, that was informative,” Archer deadpanned.
“She’s just a little scared. I’ll be right back.”
Twilight nudged her way into the house with the implicit promise of being right back. Five minutes later, she still hadn’t emerged, and Archer’s brain was beginning to cry foul.
“Okay, Archer, you can come in now.”
Archer entered. inside was a snug and warm, if rather cramped, living room. On the couch was Twilight, flanked by a quivering pile of blankets. He took a seat on an expertly-crafted loveseat across from them.
“Come on out, he’s not going to hurt you,” Twilight said to the mound of fabric. It emitted a very faint sound in response. “Well, because I’m here, silly! Now come out. You’re being rude.”
The yellow Equestrian’s head peeked out from the covers. She said something unintelligible.
“Um... Hello. I’m Archer. What’s your name?”
She muttered again. Either she was mute, or she spoke outside normal human hearing range. And remember, Fae were weird. He wouldn’t put it past her to be either of those things.
“Speak up, I can’t understand you.”
She shrank. “My name’s Fluttershy.”
“I’m sorry?
She shrank some more. “Fluttershy.”
“You’re muttering.”
“I said my name is Fluttershy.”
“Come on, lady!”
She inhaled. “MY NAME IS FLUTTERSHY!!”
If Archer didn’t know better, he could swear his ears had just touched.
“Um. Alright. Fluttershy. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, um, I’m so sorry. It’s just... I’ve never met you before, and I'm just so very uncomfortable when I meet new people...”
“Hadn’t noticed,” Archer said, now attempting to recover from noise-induced shell shock.
“Fluttershy, Archer is going to be staying in Ponyville for a while. I thought it would be nice if you two met. He works with animals, too!”
Fluttershy gasped, and her eyes lit up. “You do!?”
Archer shifted in his seat. “Well, yes. I’m a scout, after all. We have to be well-versed in wildlife to survive.”
She ran up to him. “Ooooh, tell me more!”
He’d hit a goldmine, apparently.
“Well, let’s see. I know how to drive off a bear, how to handle a rampaging moose, what to do in case of Ursa attack, Canis attack, Wyvern attack, Gryphon attack... well, being attacked by anything, mostly. Anything, apparently, except multicolored Pegasi...” He noticed Fluttershy’s eyes losing their shimmer. “What?”
“B-but I thought you worked with animals.”
He gave a harsh laugh, mostly to himself. “I think your friend misspoke. I know how to handle animals. It’s not like it’s my job or anything.”
The utterly dejected look on her face almost made him regret saying it. He felt the urge to jump up and say, “No, just kidding, I love feeding and petting animals more than anything in the world. Can we do that now?” But he had an inkling this particular Equestrian was more Fae than horse.
Obnoxiously wide range of speaking volumes? Insane mood swings over a single subject? Ability to induce sympathy in humans? Oh, she was a Fae, alright. Possibly even a Fairy-Equestrian hybrid, though Archer immediately expunged any thought on the logistics thereof from his brain.
She wasn’t going to get to him. His mind was set. He wasn’t going to apologize for being human, and he certainly wasn’t going to go native, which this lemon-drop-flavored Fairy horse was obviously trying to open him up to.
By the time he had finished resolving this in his brain, Fluttershy had muttered, “Okay,” and slowly made her way back to the couch, sitting with her head hanging. Twilight glared at him, either because she thought he was a horrible, insensitive jerk or because he had ruined their ingenious plot to turn him.
“Um... Mister Archer?”
“Yes, Fluttershy?” He had almost called her “foul temptress,” but he sure as heck wasn’t going to tell them that.
“I was just wondering... um, if it’s not rude to ask, or anything... but... what are those boots made out of? The texture seems... very odd.”
Archer looked down. Those boots were the last of his original hunting garb. Having evaded the Dread Seamstress Rarity’s grasp, they were the only human-made (and possibly, the only unenchanted) pieces of clothing he was currently wearing. This gave him an idea. An awful idea. He got a wonderful, awful idea.
“Oh, these? They’re horsehide.”
Twilight and Fluttershy’s jaws dropped. Archer waited just long enough for them to consider the possibility that he might be serious. Then he broke out laughing.
“I’m kidding! Calm down!” He laughed as Twilight rolled her eyes and Fluttershy tried to remember how to breathe.
“It’s really deerskin.”
Gasp.
“Lined with rabbit fur.”
GASP!
Fluttershy looked, if anything, even worse than she did after the crack about horsehide. Despite the impossibility of such a thing happening, her face turned a hot pink, then a nauseous green. She bolted out the door, sobbing.
“Archer, I don't believe this!”
“What?”
“You knew she loves animals, and you... you brag about how your clothes are made from... from... from pieces of forest creatures!”
“Oh, you think that’s bad? You haven’t even seen the worst of it. The bowstring is made out of catgut.”
Twilight nearly joined her friend then and there. A quick glance out the window found said friend currently emptying the contents of her stomach into the nearby river.
“Huh. That’s weird.”
“What.”
“Where I come from, horses can’t throw up.”
“We’re not horses, we’re ponies.”
“Well, it’s the same th-” BONK “Ow!”
He rounded on Twilight, ready to yell at her for hoofing the back of his head. However, she was still seated on the other side of the room, with an unimpressed look on her face. On the floor was a carrot that hadn’t been there two seconds ago.
Another carrot soared at him from the direction of the kitchen, striking him directly between the eyes. As he cleared his vision, a tiny white bunny stood in front of him. It stared at him.
Its gaze held a contempt for his actions. It spoke of anger, hatred, and vengeful wrath. It was the gaze of a bunny whose loving caretaker had been emotionally upset. It was the gaze of someone who did not enjoy the comedic value of their kind’s skin being sewn into boot lining.
It was the gaze, ironically enough, of a bunny called “Angel.”
“This isn’t going to be pleasant, is it?”
Those were the last coherent words out of Archer’s mouth before his world transformed into a whirlwind of pain, agony, and the piercing sensation of bunny teeth on human flesh.
Some days, it just didn’t pay to leave the tinker’s shop.
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Oh angel, u so silly
i laughed so hard, the cat gut was hilarious
lololol
Love the story. Can't wait for the next chapter!
My god that was so fucking hilarious. Im laughing my ass of right now.
Great job, I was wondering when they would find out that we use animal skin. Though dont you think that cat gut bowstrings are a little too far?
94472 It's a real thing, and bowstrings are really made from it. Though it's not from cats, it's from cattle. Which might be worse, considering cows talk in Equestria.
"Horsehide"
94507 Haha. That's hilarious.
I'm fine with it if it's cows. I just find it a little disturbing if it's cats.
♫♥I look forward to reading what happens next in your story♥♪
"Oh, and the bowstring is made out of catgut.”
I died right there.
*headdesk*
Fluttershy deals on a daily basis with both carnivores and omnivores. Applejack owns a DOG. Rarity owns a CAT. Twilight owns an OWL. Pinkie Pie owns an ALLIGATOR. And Rainbow Dash's best friend from school was a GRYPHON. All of the above (including, presumably, the half-lion half-eagle gryphon) feed on MEAT. The concept of killing and eating animals should not be THAT big a deal for the ponies, and they should at least have an inkling that an omnivore would use bones and fur and the like for practical purposes.
I LOLED! Seriously though, I loved the How The Grinch Stole Christmas reference
94613
It might not be domestic cats, it might be from wild cats
media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kuj2a8Kqrm1qzs6oc.jpg
RUN, ARCHER! RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN!
This reminds of how I have long suspected, were I to find myself suddenly and inexplicably in the vicinity of Ponyville, that if there was one conversation I would be loathe to start but unable to avoid, it would be asking 'Shy for advice on choosing a diet that would keep an omnivore healthy without being offensive.
But I really shouldn't be so wary; she is a fish murderer after all.