Heart of the Theater
With the rain still coming down, none of the ponies having umbrellas with them and refusing to get soaked again, the group had no choice but to wait out the weather inside the store. To all appearances that was fine with Leviathan, who was contenting herself with--to quote a term Gray's foals liked to use--"nomming" the Heartbreakers as they waited. Every now and then she'd twitch and close her eyes momentarily, but she reassured the group that it was just her body processing the newfound energy it was receiving.
At least now she knew better than to try and bite down on the blasted things right away. Never thought I'd see the day when somepony was stupid enough to try eating a jawbreaker like that. She's clearly intelligent, but she's also incredibly ignorant of a lot of things. Did they not have doors where she came from, or is there something that I'm missing?
Turkey Bowl was speaking to an aged earth pony who had taken an interest in the proceedings, filling her in on what the deal was with Leviathan. Gray had the feeling she knew her from somewhere, but couldn't quite place the face or the cutie mark. She dismissed it from her mind for now, instead refocusing on something Drama Heart was telling her. "...still having trouble comprehending this. I mean... ugh, this was more than I bargained for! I'd expected horror but wound up with sci-fi!"
"No reason why it couldn't be both," Gray suggested. "I've read 'Millions Umbra' before. It was a pretty solid mix."
"Which story was that now, and why haven't I read it yet?"
"It has to do with this robot stallion who was so obsessed with the works of assorted horror authors that it snapped and decided to reenact their works using live ponies as the victims." She smiled, momentarily lost in the throes of nostalgia. "That was the book that got me interested in the genre to start with, actually. Give it a read when you get the chance."
Drama began pacing back and forth. "Maybe another time," she declined as she went. "Gray, I really hate myself sometimes, you know that?"
"And what brought this on?" Gray wondered.
"What brought this on?" Drama whirled, getting in close and placing her hooves on the pegasus' shoulders. "Were you not paying attention to any of this? I almost got myself killed over a case of mistaken identity! I was going all nutso on someone that I thought lacked true thoughts and feelings, and completely ignored everything that said otherwise! I was so intent on claiming her for my collection that I let my tunnel vision lock itself in place!"
"So, are you going somewhere with this?" Gray asked, unphased. "This isn't the first time you've indulged in monomania. And would you calm down? You're making a bit of a scene here."
"But Gray---!"
"'But Gray' nothing," she interrupted the theater owner, placing a hoof over Drama's lips. "As my partner in the Royal Police used to tell me, take a chill pill. Get your act together and calm down. I can hear you just fine."
Drama took a deep breath, removing her hooves from Gray and backing off a step. "Sorry, I just... Gray, I almost got struck by lightning that I shouldn't have been anywhere near. You saw it happen: she had to throw me out of the way. I really shouldn't have made her do that. What if she hadn't been immune to lightning? She would've thrown her life away just for my own selfishness. That's... that's not sitting right with me."
Gray, who hadn't yet been able to do anything to get her mane in order after it had dried off, shoved an errant lock out of her eyes. "And it's a good thing that you realized that, but if you'd learned your lesson the last time this happened, you wouldn't need to keep experiencing these guilt trips."
Leviathan swallowed another Heartbreaker, jerking ever so slightly. "Not to encourage her behavior," she said, "but if she hadn't forced me to run, my hopes for survival would have been that much bleaker. If you don't mind a suggestion? Cut her a bit of slack."
"That's what I'm doing," Gray replied without facing her directly. "Any other time, I'd be assailing her with words not fit for public conversation. I'm only staying calm because everything's working out so far."
"Well, if she's really that dead-set on wanting forgiveness..." Leviathan started to say, waiting until Drama was watching her before continuing, "...then we can talk things over back at her theater after I'm finished with these. There's something I might need a unicorn's..." She grimaced. "...magic to help me deal with before I can buckle down and get myself repaired."
"Wait, at the theater?" Drama asked. "Why there?"
"Because there are only two places in this city that I'm familiar with, and one of them's home to a..." Leviathan glanced at Gray. "...Help me out here. Is there a specific term for a young female pony?"
"Filly."
"Thank you." The 'Reploid' turned her eyes back to Drama. "A filly with a phobia."
"Ooh, right," Drama muttered, wincing. "Loudest scream I've heard in my life, and it wasn't the 'good' kind of scream either."
"I told you that dangling that plaster-cast goblin in her face was a bad idea," Gray snarked. "Though in your defense, you didn't know her well at the time."
"All the same, that was still boneheaded of me. I keep forgetting that not everypony's into the surreal and scary."
"Water under the bridge, Sally. Water under the bridge. And Fairy?" Gray turned towards the Reploid close by. "Technically, Ebony's not a filly anymore. She's old enough under Equestrian law that she can be called a 'mare' by now."
"Whichever." Another Heartbreaker disappears. "Though personally, I don't think 'mare with a phobia' is quite as... does 'catchy' work for this?"
The pegasus shrugged. "Probably not, but that's just semantics. Anyway, I noticed you were frowning when we were walking past the aisles. Why was that?"
A hint of disgust crossed Leviathan's face. Gray chose to think that it wasn't due to how much of the package she had gone through by now. "I realized that our spoken languages are the same, but our written languages aren't. I couldn't understand a single thing the signs were saying."
"Something else that's going to have to be worked out..." Drama's ears turned towards the windows, followed closely by the rest of her head: the inclement weather was dying down. "Rain's finally letting up. Looks like as good a time as any. We can talk about the language thing after we're done later."
Turkey Bowl approached them, having finished his conversation with the other customer. "Sounds like the situation's well in hoof now, so I'm going to go home. Nothing else is really keeping me around, so..."
"Take care then, Mr. Bowl," Drama said with a slightly smug smile, the expression more in line with her stage persona. "I expect to see you when the theater re-opens for business, whenever that may be."
A short laugh. "Count on it!"
Gray stretched a little as Turkey Bowl walked past her out the door. "I might as well head out too. I want to get things cleared up with Mortar & Son before Ebony starts wondering what's taking me so long. See you later, Sally." She turned to trot towards the exit---
"The towel stays where it belongs, you hobo!" the store's manager shouted in the distance. "Put that back!"
"Oops," Gray muttered with a blush, doing a 180 and hurrying towards the back. "Forgot that I was still wearing it."
...
"Assuming that she's a friend of yours," Leviathan commented dryly as she stood up, "is that behavior normal for her?"
"I don't know if there are any cats where you're from, but some like to joke that she wasn't born a pony," Drama Heart replied, a mild dusting of affection in her voice. She pulled open the door with her magic and led her newfound acquaintance outside. "She's funny that way. Come on. Let's go."
...
Behind them, a middle-aged earth pony stared at the spot where the group had just been, adjusting her glasses and rubbing her chin as she pondered what Turkey Bowl had just told her.
Energen Levels: 100%. Reserve Bank: 19% full. Estimate minimum of 70 hours until replenishment of main supply is required, accounting for self-repair.
Oh, this is much better. As the humans say, a full stomach sure feels good.
I finished off the entire bag just a few moments ago while en route to Drama Heart's theater. I was going to toss the empty bag in a bin set up alongside the road, but my patron suggested that I hold on to it. "I saw that look on your face in there," she'd said. "You're obviously wondering what's in those things that's able to keep you fed, am I right? The manufacturer's address is on the bag. Save it, and once your grasp of the written word's satisfactory, you can write to them and find out."
Something I can do as a 'side mission' of sorts, but that can wait until later. Right now, I'm in a much better mood than I was in when I first arrived here.
...Has it really been only a few hours at most? It feels like it's been longer.
Now that my Energen levels are topped off, I can put my auto-repair to better use. I'm setting it to work on itself for now so that it can operate at full strength later; better 100% than the 87% that my earlier diagnostics gave me. After my business with Drama is done, I can move on to my power generators, ceratanium frame and synthskin, and backup solar extractor in that order. Mending everything else will go much more smoothly once those are fixed. I suspect it will take a week and a half, two weeks at most before I'm back at peak efficiency.
Oh, it would certainly go several times faster if I had, say, a capsule that I could hook myself to and rest in, but that's a total no-go. As one human I worked with once liked to say, it's better to see how you can get the most mileage out of the cards you're dealt than it is to complain about the unfairness of your opponent's hand. And I'm not going to let life itself get one up on me if I have anything to say about it, so auto-repair it is.
...Now I'm starting to wish that I had a deck in storage---focus, Leviathan, FOCUS.
Ahem...
The cart that brought me to the theater was gone by the time the two of us got back... no real surprise there. I can't blame those two for not wanting to be involved. I consider for a second as to whether or not to find some way to apologize to them later for scaring them before placing it at the back of my mind.
A grin blossoms on my guide's face. "Welcome to Burning Salamandra's Pyre of Fears!" Drama announces full blast before abruptly dialing down the volume, having caught my wince before she got any farther. "My theater, my pride and joy, and most importantly my home."
I look up at the theater. It's a three-story building by the ponies' standards, though closer to two and a half by mine. If Drama's initial ostentatious behavior was a sign of anything, though, the ceilings in this one are likely to be considerably higher than those at Gray's apartment. Easily enough to comfortably accommodate someone of my height. There's a message on the marquee overhead, but my illiteracy isn't helping me any here. That's probably a "Closed" sign in the window, I'm guessing...?
There's a faint click from the door, interrupting my observations. "Follow me," Drama says as she enters, magically keeping the door held open for me. It stays open long enough for me to follow her, after which it shuts and locks.
There are a few lights on in the lobby, but not enough to provide a full load of details, and because of that most of the room is shrouded in shadows. At the very least, I can tell that the room's in an L-shape...? Wait, scratch that: it's a C-shape. There's a hallway just past a counter and some sort of strange machine... and guarding the passage is a stool with a maroon-stained, iron-masked pony skeleton on it, a sign clutched between its hooves. I scowl at this. Charming.
I probably could just use my alternate vision mode if I want to, but it was designed for seeing in the deepest parts of the ocean. I'd just as soon save it for its intended use, so I'm not seeing a point to misusing it just to fulfill idle curiosity. If I want to examine the room badly enough, I'll just ask Drama to turn on the lights.
Closer to where we are is a pair of doors with plates of pony silhouettes nailed to them, most likely restrooms. Drama leads me past them to a third door that's well out of the way. "The hall up to my residence is through here," she explains as she unlocks it and leads me through, a few translucent globes lighting up on their own just inside. "Careful on the steps."
It doesn't take long to see what she means. The stairs are clearly intended for pony usage and none other, and my first attempt at traversing them normally results in me stumbling and almost face-planting. I'm not sure what annoys me the most: the steps being this narrow, or my boots' heels actually being a liability for once. There's a railing, but it's at a height I can't comfortably reach without stooping down. In addition, the ceiling in this hall is too low for me to consider any wall jumping. So much for 'high' hopes.
Not seeing an alternative, I sigh and turn to face the wall. Going up sideways like this awkward, but since there's just enough space for my feet this way, at least I'm not making myself look foolish by clawing my way up the steps on all fours. As it is, this is something that's staying off my record when I return home. Fefnir must never learn of this.
Drama giggles softly when she sees me ascend this way. "If it helps, I don't like these stairs much either. The problem is that I can't fix that without remodeling this part of the building, and I'm still working my way through a mortgage as it is."
"What drove you to buy this place, then?" I ask as I reach the top.
"I had a good thing going in Baltimare," Drama answers, leading me to another stairway past a bend in the hallway. "But I felt I could accumulate a larger fanbase here in Manehattan, so I moved. This building's far outside the theater district, but it was the only one I could find that suited my needs. I have enough after mortgage payments for daily living, keeping everything in working order and paying my part-timer..." She shakes her head. "...and not enough for any serious work."
Another sideways trip. "Hm. Plus side, you're still happy with your circumstances..."
Drama giggles again at this, doing some sort of weird dance as she waits for me to reach her. "But of course! Horrifying those who have a high tolerance for fright brings me joy! The screams, the beating hearts, the applause, the relieved smiles, the sincere compliments for a job well done... I just can't get enough!"
Her enthusiasm would probably be infectious if I didn't find it so unnerving. I can name one or two Mutos Reploids with a similar mindset, and it's just as intimidating coming from her as it is from them. I suppose I should count myself fortunate that she chose to go into entertainment instead of joining any sort of military force.
A few feet further on is another door, which Drama also unlocks to let me through. Well, here goes... something. Let's see if she lives up to her words.
Drama Heart never received much company, let alone talking machines from another world, so she usually didn't do much cleaning beyond a bit of dusting. As such, her living room was on the messy side: a rug kicked off-center, a couch cushion leaning against the wall, bread crumbs from a midnight snack scattered about, a doily in desperate need of washing...
Self-consciously, she moved the rug back to its proper place before gesturing at the discarded cushion. Leviathan got the hint, dropping it in the middle of the floor and sitting on it while Drama claimed the couch's remaining seat. "So, Fairy. I'm not against the idea of me making amends, but what do you need the help of a unicorn for?"
"I told you at the store about the negligence exercised regarding my maintenance, and the confrontation at that cesspool of a lab," Leviathan told her, tapping one of her knees as she spoke. "The wounds from my first skirmish against Omega were never treated, and as a result there's substantial dust and grime in my frame." She frowned. "Aside from me hating being dirty on principle, the extra weight and interference is not doing my motor control any favors." She slowly tightened her hand into a fist, then opened it again. "If I can remove all the debris, that would make my movements feel less strenuous and go a long way towards helping me recover."
"What about the frame itself, though?" Drama asked, concerned. "Wouldn't you need someone to fix that, too? If it was left alone, all of that grime would just re-accumulate over time."
Leviathan's helmet was blocking her eyebrows from view, depriving Drama of some context, but she told herself that the Reploid's smile was meant to be reassuring. "It isn't a problem. My body has a built-in auto-repair system that draws on raw materials from my Energen supply. Given enough time, it can restore me to full functionality from that alone. I doubt it's too different from a pony's ability to heal from injuries." Her smile disappeared. "There's one thing I need to make sure of, first."
"What's that?"
"I want to be able to say that I trust you to do this, Drama. The problem is that what you've done so far doesn't put you in a very good light. Thinking of me as a prize of some kind, chasing me for several blocks and trying to capture me, manhandling me like I'm someone's docile pet..." Leviathan grimaced. "I'm still having a little trouble believing that you pulled a one-eighty just because I threw you out of the way of some lightning. How am I supposed to know that you won't just turn around and start treating me as one of your props?"
Judging a book by its cover. Was that deliberate, or...? The unicorn's eyes narrowed. "I realize I'm close-minded at times. I'll be the first to admit that," Drama informed her, her voice the most serious it had been that day. Her tail twitched as she failed to suppress her agitation at Leviathan's complaint. "But I'm not so short-sighted as to think that you didn't know exactly what you were doing when you threw me. Only someone with a working brain and a working heart would rescue a fanatic, and one they'd just met at that, from certain death."
"Nice to know that you are admitting it," Leviathan said, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"I don't want you thinking that I'm ungrateful or anything. If we never meet again after today, I don't want the bad example I almost set to be your only memory of me." Drama climbed down off the couch and brought herself below eye level. Anxiously, she pressed her front hooves together and hoped with all her heart that she passed whatever test the Reploid was having her take. "Let me do this for you, please. Okay?"
I'm not going to lie and say that I'm fully convinced. It might just be a by-product of me being built and raised in an unforgiving world, but I haven't lasted as long as I did by being too trusting.
And therein lies the problem: these two worlds are not the same. I'm not dealing with stalwart warriors, blood-crazed maniacs, or sociopathic soldiers anymore. These are common civilians that are simply taking life one day at a time. Not everyone is going to have an ulterior motive for the things they do. Not everything is going to have multiple layers of secrecy on top of it: sometimes, things really are that simple and to the point, just like a razor. That's not to say that no one here has closets packed to the ceiling with skeletons (a poor choice of words, I know), but so far everybody I've met has worn their heart on their metaphorical sleeves.
Here's hoping it stays that way.
I don't want to delay this any more than I have to, and if I rejected Drama's plea I'd have to waste time trying to find another unicorn who can treat me. Old instincts are hard to break, but maybe just this once... "Alright. Just so long as you're willing to follow my instructions to the letter, you understand?" I told her sternly. "I'm serious. I don't want to repair additional damage just because you thought deviating was a good idea."
Wow. I've heard of smiles lighting up a room, but this one could have brightened a street on a sunny day. She's doing that strange little dance again, too. "Thank you, Fairy! Thank you thank you thank you!" Drama whirled and galloped out of the room, almost knocking over a coat rack in her haste. "Let me get my cleaning supplies! Where's my dust rags? Buckets? Magnifying glass? Everything?!"
I'm not sure I quite got through to her. She's a little too enthusiastic about this. I realize that I can probably be called a hypocrite for this in light of my obsession, but I don't care. Drama Heart's just plain nuts.
But in this case, that might be a good thing.
Said unicorn returns a few minutes later just as I'd finished removing my boots, carrying an assortment of items in her magic. Most of them are recognizable cleaning items, including a bucket full of soapy water, but there are also a few odds and ends that I can't figure out. "What's that right there?" I ask, pointing at a large black disc with a label in the center.
In response, Drama directs my attention to a boxy device at the side of the room. I'd seen it when I first entered, but there were more pressing matters to deal with. Curiously, I watch as with a touch of her magic, a tiny green bulb on the side lights up. A see-through lid on the top opens, allowing her to place the disc in the center. A tiny needle is placed along the disc's edge...
The soft pulling of strings catches my hearing as a melody floats through the room. My head slowly turns towards my patron, my mouth trying to say something but my voice not cooperating. I can feel one of my eyebrows twitching inside my helmet.
"What?" Drama tilts her head, her smile halfway towards befuddled. "You don't expect me to carry out a menial task without my music, do you?"
"Erh. Let's just get to work," I let myself groan as I begin detaching my arm guards. Why, why, why won't this day just ever-loving end already? And why, in the name of everything X stands for, is she singing along? Is she seriously intending to do this while she works?
...
That's it. I give up. I mentally throw my hands in the air and decide that my time is better spent directing this loony unicorn. This day can hardly get any worse for me, so I might as well do what I agreed to do and hope that the fallout doesn't drag me down in flames. "Alright. First off, take a look at this seam here. You'll need that magnifying glass to see it, so..."
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I doubt she would remain sane if she ever went to Ponyville.
Leviathan just doomed herself by saying that the day couldn't get worse for herself.
10989747
In which case, Berry Punch would probably be her best friend---...wait, I forgot that Reploids can't get drunk. Welp, she'd have a serious problem, then!
loved the update! Fairy's reaction to the Magic of Heartsongs should be amusing!
10989802
I have no dout she would find a way.
Im curious how long can a reploid last without energy? I know it various from reploid to reploid. Hell im still wondering how long bass can live without fuel due to his unique bassnium energy. Megaman series never specified how long a robot or a reploid can live without energy.
10999452
Yeah, a lot of it is just guesswork here. Admittedly I'm drawing a few elements from the much wackier Rockman Zero manga, such as how long a chunk of Energen can keep a reploid sustained, but the rest I'm filling in with estimations and judgement calls. It's in part why I gave this iteration of Leviathan solar backups, albeit ones that would need to be repaired before they could be of any use.
I didn't know this story was ten years old!
Wow! How long have you been working on it?
(Obvious Sarcasm)
11024228
Heh. Typo on my part, obviously. I'll go take care of that, so thanks for pointing that out.
She may scoff now, but playing epic battle music just sets the mood, you know?
I used to love those chill strips.
Now I can't find them anywhere.
Got myself PLENTY of chill pills though. ;)
Drama has good taste in music.
Still don't like her.