Even Stranger

by SaltyJustice

Chapter 15

Octavia rose that morning at eight o'clock sharp, like she had every day for most of her adult life. It had started when she was a filly, sometime around when she had gotten her cutie mark. No matter when she went to bed, she would awake at eight the next morning. She had no need for alarm clocks and could leave her drapes drawn, the sun having no part in waking her. This morning could be no different, and the lack of sleep brought wear on her. The only thought to cross her mind was: coffee.

She made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Vinyl, ever the early riser, was eating dinner on the table.

"Up all night again?" Octavia asked. Vinyl, as a rare occasion, was not wearing her headphones.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you? I. Don't. Sleep."

"You sleep. I've seen you do it."

"That's napping. It's totally different."

Octavia navigated towards the coffee machine. She didn't know the first thing about magic, but whoever had cast that spell was a credit to their profession; the machine hadn't made anything other than tasteless black soot-juice during its entire history. Truly, a magnificent track record, that.

The first cup woke her up instantly. Caffeine could take some time to kick in, but the awful taste of burnt coffee was far faster. Freshly alert, Octavia got out a bagel and sat down to paw at it without eating it for the next twenty minutes, as was her daily routine.

Vinyl was reading the newspaper now, scanning through the pages looking, no doubt, for her own concert advertisements.

"So. How'd it go?" Vinyl asked.

"How did what go?"

"Your recital, of course. What else happened last night?"

Octavia blushed. Fortunately, the newspaper was obstructing Vinyl's view of her.

"It went great. It was nice seeing everypony again, even if just for a few hours. We're going to need to set up a practice schedule soon."

"Yeah, because you need it."

"Shut up."

A catastrophic roaring sound came from the living room. Both ponies turned to look, before going back to their business of not eating.

"He snores too?" Octavia asked.

"He's the perfect colt all right. Speaking of - you guys made out yet?"

Vinyl lowered the newspaper to assess the impact. Octavia was fuming. Mission accomplished.

"Vinyl!"

"It's a simple question. Yes or no?"

"I - I - You have no right asking me that!"

"I believe we had a little wager, didn't we? That makes it my business, and I have a right to know about my own business."

Octavia resumed her fuming. Vinyl, though right, was still sticking her nose where it didn't belong. There had to be some limits.

"I will tell you, if and when it happens, and only then. Until then, stay out of it."

Vinyl jerked her head back. "Cool it, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

Vinyl cast aside the newspaper and, for the first time in weeks, took her glasses off and set them on the table. Octavia's anger evaporated, replaced by genuine curiosity.

"I just want to make sure you're not wussing out. Don't throw away an opportunity like this," Vinyl said.

A pause followed as Vinyl waited for a response. Outside, the wind kicked up and blew the curtains inwards. A cool breeze delicately crossed Octavia's face, hearkening her back to the previous night...

"Yes. We have 'made out'," Octavia said, "is that it? Are you happy now?"

"I'll be happy when you f- "

"Vinyl!!"

"Geez, calm down. Just let it come when it does, there's no need to rush."

"Yes, there is! I only have a few days left!"

Vinyl narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. She let her head cock to the side, and a demure smile spread across her face.

"As far as I'm concerned, the bet's over and you won."

"But - "

"Fair and square. You win. Be happy with that. One month's rent, on the house. Literally, since it's my house."

"You'd really do that for me?"

Vinyl leaned forward and put both forehooves on the table. She looked out the window, not focusing on any one thing.

"I've been with a lot of colts. I've been with a couple mares, too - but I was hammered so it didn't count!"

Octavia let out an awkward cough. Vinyl shook her head.

"What I mean to say is," Vinyl said, "I've been around. I know what's up. And what I see between you two? Yeah. There's something special there, and I won't stand in your way. Take your time with this freak, he's worth it."

"Thanks Vinyl. Thanks so much."

Octavia managed to grab Vinyl before she could get away, and gave her a friendly hug. It took Vinyl a few seconds to squirm out of it and recover the glasses she had left on the table.

"Now before you get all sappy on me, in two months, you still gotta pay. Mommy needs a new turntable," Vinyl said with a wink - or maybe she didn't, as her glasses completely obscured her eyes.

Thorax eventually woke up, at ten o'clock. He had wanted to get up earlier, but had failed to tell Octavia when to wake him. Now alone in the living room, there was no sound coming from the kitchen.

Thorax peered around the corner, to see the room empty. He looked up the stairwell to find it likewise empty. Truly alone.

He snuck back towards the couch that was his quarters now. Interestingly, the device was harder on his back than his old pile of straw. It was much softer, but therein lay the problem. He had managed to overcome this obstacle by spreading his weight evenly in every direction as he lay down, which caused the pillow to press more evenly on his spine. Still, he would wake each day with minor aches. Securing a pile of straw to bed down on would be his goal once he gained the favour of Officer Scratch, though she may not have felt he'd deserved a furnishing promotion.

Beneath the cushion nearest his head, he pulled out the jar of Nectar that Spiracle had given him the night previous. He had overindulged himself on the vial which was supposed to have represented a week's supply, but this jar was easily three times the size of the vial. This would probably last him the rest of the month if he rationed it carefully.

The cushions, he had discovered, contained a large number of small fluff objects resembling cheese curds. They had a consistency similar to that of straw, and, lacking any cinnamon buns, would do as something to eat with his Nectar. He opened the jar, careful not to spill any, and applied a delicate portion of 1/5th of the jar to the curds.

There was no flavour explosion. He wanted to gag instead. What had happened?

Thorax examined the jar. There were lumps of solid material floating around inside the Nectar, and the whole thing was of the wrong color and consistency. There was a disgusting smell given off by it as well.

Had the hive already collapsed so horribly in his absence? He had never realized just how difficult it must be to keep the vats at eight-point-five-five. Whoever his replacement was must have bungled his job so thoroughly that the Queen would be hard-pressed not to recall him. Thorax wondered if another agent would arrive to beg him to take his old job back. He probably would be revered as the hero who brought back the good-tasting Nectar. That, it seemed, was the problem with being the best: he was always and forever in demand.

Thorax choked down the rest of the Nectar and cushion-curds. His stomach began a protest, and he had not the strength to crush it brutally like the Queen would have.

The Queen. Thorax paused. She would not crush a protest brutally, surely she would have persuaded everyone to come to her side. She would give a speech, perhaps, and explain her position. All the protesters would then agree with her and harmony would be restored. Thorax shook his head. Where had such a thought come from?

Thorax hid the jar of Nectar inside the couch again and set off for the front door. Octavia and Vinyl were just outside of it, preparing to enter.

"Oh! There he is. We were just wondering when you were going to wake up," Octavia said as he opened the door.

Since last he had seen her, it was as if she had learned to spontaneously glow, as a firefly does. Looking at her face reminded him of the first time he had seen the sun, but less harmful to vision. Something in her eyes drew him in, he wanted to gaze at her wordlessly and draw closer, to hold her and be held by her. Her face had a hundred tiny details that each held his rapt attention, and her every motion was exaggerated and deliberate, seen to him in slow motion.

Officer Scratch punched him in the jaw.

"Not the time, water-wings. I need that billboard done so my buddy can put it up. Some of us have real monetary concerns at stake. Now step to it!"

Thorax shook off the blow and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

The three of them went around the back of the house, where the unfinished billboard was still leaning. It was a color-by-numbers affair, the final version being a detailed picture of Officer Scratch's face and details of the upcoming party.

"Vinyl, I get that you want to make this a big splash, but who's going to read a billboard in Ponyville?" Octavia asked.

"Hey, we're not selling to Ponyville. As far as I'm concerned, that ship has already sailed. I mean, the entire west side is excited to go for some reason. The east side was pretty muted, but everypony was begging me for a ticket on the west side."

Vinyl shot a look at Thorax, who did not return it. He was busy making sure the spray-paint cans were properly stored, and checking the safety triggers for wear. He did not want one discharging unexpectedly.

"Anyway," Vinyl continued, "did you hear about the track that opened up south of here?"

"No. Some big change, I take it?" Octavia asked.

"You know it. They finally finished laying that big line to Los Pegasus, and the first train starts next Wednesday. Thousands of ponies are gonna be coming up on the short line to Canterlot. Who has zero thumbs and the best billboard real-estate in Equestria?"

"What's a thumb?" Octavia asked.

"This pony!" Vinyl shouted, rearing up and throwing her forelegs wide.

After Octavia and Thorax spent five minutes watching Vinyl congratulate herself, the three began painting up the board. The task would have been trivial to complete, save for the fact that they had too little white paint. Fortunately, Thorax knew a few white plaster recipes that he had learned to mix up during his chemistry training which could fill in the bottom of Scratch's body.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I am lookin' hot, wouldn't you say?" Vinyl gloated, nodding in approval at their art skills.

"Yes," Octavia replied, "we really captured your arrogance."

"Yeah!"

Octavia was about to explain it wasn't a compliment, when she noticed smoke and a soft hissing sound coming from the improvised plaster.

"Mister Hist," she said, "not to alarm you, but that mixture wasn't perchance flammable, was it?"

Thorax shook his head. "It will not ignite unless it reaches twenty-five degrees centigrade. That is very unlikely."

Vinyl froze, only her neck moved as she looked from the smoking plaster to the rest of the billboard.

"It's twenty-six. Right now. You. Idiot."

Dessicated cracks formed as the plaster began to expand internally. Smoke fumed out of the new openings.

"Sweet Celestia's beard, somepony get a bucket of water!" Vinyl shouted.

"No!" Thorax yelled, "That will cause it to explode!"

"What!? What did you put in that stuff?"

"Stay here!" Thorax yelled, and bolted around the front of the house. The only thing which could prevent a wildcat reaction if the mixture reached combustion was a tensing agent. He kicked in the door and searched desperately for anything which could act as a binder.

The kitchen contained nothing which would be of use to him, at least not immediately visible. There were no clearly marked emergency chemical storage units anywhere, which was a major violation of Occupational Health and Safety rules. Thorax had half a mind to report Officer Scratch to the OHS review board if they survived this crisis.

Thorax thought quickly, as a yell from the window confirmed his suspicions that his time was running out. There was only one chemical in the building that he knew the composition of, everything else was unlabelled.

He charged to the couch and pulled out the Nectar jar. Even if it had been made improperly, blink-grass as a tensing agent would do the job. Surely whoever had made this batch couldn't mess up something as simple as adding blink-grass?

With no time to lose, Thorax held the jar in his mouth and ran back to the rear of the building. The plaster mixture was now smoking and ponies were gathering around to watch the unfolding crisis. A large crowd had assembled, including Twilight Sparkle and Spike, who looked on nervously.

"Everyone back!" Thorax shouted. He hurled the jar at the board and shattered it, splashing his food supply all over the bottom. Instantly the chemical reacted, completely unexpectedly. Some idiot at the hive had messed up royally, because there was nowhere near enough tensing agent!

The plaster/Nectar mixture bubbled for a brief moment, then exploded violently. Everypony ducked as a fine white mist flew a hundred meters into the air. Panic broke out, but quickly receded, and was replaced with a sense of wonder.

All around them, delicate, sweet-smelling flakes of white sugary snow were falling. The billboard was largely unharmed, as the flakes did not stick to it, or anything else. They slid delicately off of any surface and accumulated on the ground. The air held a delicious scent, of honey or perhaps sugary icing. Each individual flake glinted in the sun as it fell, and melted a few moments after it landed.

Ponies laughed and stuck out their tongues to catch the tasty flakes before they disappeared. Thorax's relief quickly turned to lament, for now the ponies were consuming, before his very eyes, his limited rations, even if they did not know it. The humiliation stung all the harder as Thorax watched Octavia join in, letting a flake land on her nose before snatching it with her tongue. He sheepishly sidled up next to her.

"Mister Hist, this is - " she said.

"I'm sorry. I have failed you," he said.

"This is magical," Octavia said, and whirled to face him. She quickly clasped his forehoof in hers. "Each flake is as sweet as your heart."

Thorax was struck dumb, and quietly let the flakes fall all around him. After a few minutes, there were none left, and the crowd began to disperse, buzzing with excitement as they did. Of the ponies who remained, Twilight Sparkle stood out among them.

"So, by the smell and reaction, I'm guessing - icing sugar and nitro-glycerine," Twilight said.

"Not s- maybe," Thorax said. He cast his eyes down in shame.

"Whatever it was that did the distribution, the effect was very impressive," Twilight said, "Spike, were you keeping notes on - "

"No," Spike said.

Thorax was again stunned. If he had done something like this at the hive, he'd have found himself facing the disciplinary committee within minutes. They'd probably cut his rations or assign him to the stone-shapers division, who had to use crude tools to smooth out the stone of the lower floors for ten hours a day. Here, the ponies celebrated him.

"Dude!" Vinyl shouted, causing all eyes to turn to her. "Two questions, pyro! One: What the hell was that!? Two: Can you do it again?"

"I - wha? Why?" Thorax stammered.

"Duh! We do this in the market square in Canterlot, my show'll sell out in a heart beat. Nopony forgets something like that! And to think I was gonna strangle you for torching my billboard, hah!"

Officer scratch insisted on repainting the section that had exploded, and insisted on using actual paint purchased from the hardware store. She did the work herself, requesting that Thorax and Octavia go "chill". Octavia had agreed, though Thorax could not remember the details of the conversation. He had other things on his mind.

His food source had detonated in an accident which was in no way his own fault. Now what was he going to do? Die a slow and painful death in full view of the ponies? Go insane with hunger and throw himself in front of a train?

Thorax snapped out of his funk, he was an Infiltrator! Infiltrators always had everything under control. An Infiltrator would make a plan and follow through with it. The second part was easy, it was the first part that was hard. Thorax needed a plan, and set himself to coming up with one.

To keep distractions to a minimum, he returned to his quarters and attempted sensory deprivation. During his days in chemistry training, blocking out the rest of the world calmed him and allowed him time to become creative, to put words to the songs that formed in his mind. He quickly constructed a chamber to block the world out, using nearby materials he cleverly re-purposed from the environment. Within minutes, he was shrouded in the privacy of a dark and silent existence all his own. Now, he could reason his way out of any danger.

"Newbie!"

Reality came back in a sudden rush of light and sound. Thorax's eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness in time to see Officer Scratch staring at him.

"If you're going to do some weird mid-towner yoga crap, do it with Tavi's blanket! Don't touch my stuff without permission!"

"I wasn't - "

"And don't eat the cushion stuffing! It only looks like cheese, moron."

"I - "

Scratch stormed away before Thorax could explain himself. Octavia entered as she left, with her saddlebags now strapped to her back. Her face betrayed bemused concern.

"Word to the wise: leave Vinyl's stuff alone. She's very territorial, much like an aardvark. Speaking of, are you prepared to continue our research?" she asked.

Thorax nodded, and Octavia smiled in anticipation. She snapped to concern, again.

"You didn't actually eat the stuffing, did you?"

"Ah, no," Thorax lied, "I believe she was just mocking my skill at cooking..."

Something clicked in Thorax's mind, right then. If a brilliant chemist and Infiltrator could not get a shipment of food, surely he could create one.

Comments

[Happy Thoughts]

This
was
HILARIOUS!

As I wrote on my FimFiction page, this is the best comedy Changeling story I had the pleasure to read! I LOVE Thorax and I hope this gem will get the publicity it truly deserves!

MOAR!!!

[Rokas]

Chemistry and the slow-witted do not mix well.

[xoid]

If a brilliant chemist and Infiltrator could not get a shipment of food, surely he could create one.

…
This isn’t the story of a dull‐witted changeling, is it? This is actually the tale of how Ponyville became Craterville.

[Razzy]

5613872 Maybe this is a prequel to Fallout Equestria and it wasn't nukes that blew up the world.

Cya
Raziel-chan