• Published 16th Feb 2013
  • 2,246 Views, 59 Comments

Equestria: Infinite (Bioshock) - ThatMrSomeGuy

When Twilight finds a huge gap in Equestrian History, she uncovers an ugly truth about an Equestria before Celestia's rule.

  • ...

4. A Fairly Invigorating Fair

Why would the floating city be hidden for so long? Why is she unearthing it now? And most importantly, why, of all ponies, would she choose to tell me?

For all Booker knew, his head was constantly pounding the soft walls of a cell while his forelegs were knotted in a straightjacket. Heck, he wished that was the case, for that would mean he had a grasp on sanity. But here, no. Here, he was in an unheard of lost floating city trying to bring a mythical creature to unknown employers. Not to mention that he was a forewarned infamous celebrity prophesied by the leader of the city, whom has also created a cult that treats Equestria's founders with intense religious passion. All of this, just so he could wipe away a gambling debt. It seemed that everything possible in the universe flipped its head upside-down and gave Booker a maniacal journey.

"Um. Sir? Do you want the telegram?"


It was possibly the tenth time today that Booker's train of thought lost sight of what was right in front of him. I've got to start paying attention more to what's going on.

"Wait. A telegram?"

In front of Booker now was a pegasus paperfoal, complete with a hat and saddlebag. His eyes didn't look like they wanted to stay focused at one spot. One eye was always in another direction. The lazy eye alternated too. Booker tried to pay attention to the one starring closest to him. The foal went for the bag on his back and proceeded to reach into the right pocket, searching for the so-called message.

"Where ish it? I jusht playshd ih here. Ih mush be here, somewhere." He nuzzled the papers inside in search of the item. "Aha!"

The foal pulled the object out with his eyes closed, nodding to himself on the success of obtaining a simple paper-

"That's a muffin...” Booker told the foal.

The foal looked with his right eye down at the snack in his mouth. Without a word, he sheepishly dropped his lunch and continued to rummage through the messy clumps of delivery paper.

Booker rolled his eyes. That simple action made his vision wander to his target, Monument Island. There was no mistaking it. Though the thing was not even a mile away, the island itself was separated by the sky. Even with the solid ground making it habitable for unicorns and earth ponies, being a pegasus still had some advantageous perks in this terrain. He turned around just in time to spot that the foal had just grabbed the right mail.

"Ye are Dewi, righ?" the foal said, now placing saliva all over the paper.

"Yeah." Booker hurried to strip the paper from the foal's mouth before it became impossible to read. The card's words were still clear. The left side was still damaged by light bite marks and soggy wet ink:

Dewitt STOP

Do not alert Clopstock to

your presence STOP

Whatever you do, do not

pick #77 STOP


"Lutece," Booker murmured. He couldn't recall knowing any Lutece. He certainly didn't know anypony up here. Yet, there was the message, in clear black and white.

"Hey kid. You know who sent-", Booker's voice trailed as he noticed that the foal wasn't aside him anymore. He looked back at the telegram. Whoever sent it seemed like they wanted to help. They at least didn't want him to be under the eyes of the city's leader. The less Booker had to deal with, the better. He would settle that nonsense later. He first needed to make his way there, and there was only one route, through the fair.

* * *

Twilight's attention turned back to the room. Celestia was just continuing to tell the story. Now was the first time today Twilight started to get her brain functioning. What she did since was reflexive, like brushing your teeth or taking a shower. One doesn't really think about what they do. They just do. While this wasn't at all like her routine lifestyle, that's how she saw it was all morning. She woke up. She ate. She walked down to hear more about the floating city. That's all there was.

Now, she started thinking for herself again. Her eyes drifted from the focused state of imagination and she looked around. A second ago, she was in the city in the sky. Twilight was now back in the “Oasis” (what princess Celestia called the room). Twilight remembered the recorded message from yesterday. For now, she decided to keep it a secret. Something told her that Celestia wouldn’t like to hear that there was an intruder last night. Twilight held a number of other questions she kept to herself. Ever since she got here, she felt like the princess wasn’t telling her something. But she couldn't find the words to tell Celestia. For now, she would just follow along. She focused back to Celstia's tale.

* * *

"Hotdogs. Get your fresh hot dogs."

"Well look at this. Those dumb Vox are on the loose. Are you the Keeper Celestia needs to take them out? Step ri-".

"It's the revolutionary sky-hook. We all know the skylines carrying our precious cargo around our fair city. Now, you can ride them too. These few-of-a-kind -".

Everywhere Booker turned, he saw advertising, advertising like any other fair. What was unusual were the products, specifically one that caught his attention.

"These are no tall tales. This is no magic. What you see right now are Vigors. Now being produced just for you locals weeks ago, courtesy of me and my brother. That's right everypony. Vigors, powered by our body's salts. You heard me. That NaCl in your bloodstream. Those rejuvenating sweet crystals, now compact fluids in these here bottles. We've got electricity. We've got fire. We've got sustained levitation. Even a charmer one for the ladies." (Some of the mares giggled at that comment.) "This is the future. Go to Fink & Fank Co. to get yours today!"

He stood in silence as the two masqueraders in front of him did all the talking. They were producing spells from the top of the glowing horned auras from their heads, spells that showed off a few sparks and fireballs. What stood out was that their horns were completely invisible.

"What did you do with those unicorns?", a spectator asked. "Why can't we see their horns?"

Fink (or Fank) nodded his head slowly. Though he seemed like he was disappointed in himself, it was the spectator who fell into the marketing ploy.

"Unicorns? Oh dear my. It seems like I forgot to tell you the best part. It's for everypony!"

He paused for the gasps of citizens to fade. Booker didn't make a noise, but raised an eyebrow to call BS. Fank (or Fink) saw that gesture and took advantage of it.

"You sir," he pointed to Booker. "You don't believe me? See for yourself. I'll prove you wrong or my name isn't Fink."

A circle formed around Booker, waiting for him to set the stage. He acknowledged the publicity he didn't want to get. Walking away would just give him more attention.

"So, what's your name".


"Booker...," Fink rang, getting the taste of his name. "Is there any non-unicorn here who wants to volunteer?" He scanned the area to look for a suitable candidate. "You!"

Fink pointed at a little earth pony filly, likely around 10 years old. "Me?"

Fink bent his hoof toward the stage. "Yes you! How would you like to be the first filly to experience this non-unicorn magic?"

"Um...," the child was uncertain. She just hid behind her mother.

"Go on Congruity." Like the loving and caring mother that she wasn't, she dragged her filly onto the stage.

"Congruity," Fink said. "My. So many children are being named after vocabulary terms today. I'm not a fan, but you are the exception."

Congruity blushed.

"Now, dear Congruity, I want you to drink this bottle."

Congruity was petrified, gazing at the bottle she saw made of poison.

"Don't worry little miss, it's only 12 percent alcohol."

Some adults laughed because of the filly's obvious lack of understanding for alcoholic beverages.

Fink must have been an impatient salespony. He didn't allow Congruity more than 15 seconds of thought before he forced the drink down her throat. At least, that's how Fink made it look. The sudden shock of the chug got Congruity to fall over on her sides. Normally, the crowd's reaction would be to laugh. This was replaced with gasps because of what else happened to Congruity. Around her were glowing rings of green smoke.

"She's possessed by that devil's drink," one random frightened stranger from the crowd hurriedly said.

"Hardly," Fink responded. "In fact, I'd say it's the opposite. She's possessing the new powers of the Vigors I just granted her. Give it time. The first one is said to be the wooziest." He ended that thought with a chuckle. Thankfully, others followed suit, else the gravity would have been 10 times heavier for Fink. Soon enough, the green rings vanished, and Congruity was able to get back on her feet as if nothing happened.

"Now," Fink moved his mouth to whisper into Congruity's ear. He later said,"Can you do that?"

She nodded.

"Okay then!"

Booker took only a second to see that Congruity was charging up magic, aimed directly at him. The vigor energized quickly and Booker was blinded by the green smoke.

* * *

"Mr. Dewitt?" The door pounded loudly. "Mr. Dewitt! Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt!"

"No. You can't make me do this. I'll find another way."

"Open this door right now."

Rather than responding to the source of the banging of his office door, Booker made his way to another door placed on the wall on his right.

"Anna? Anna!"

* * *

Booker opened his eyes to see the crowd applauding. He turned and faced the two other ponies on the stage.

"Bravo miss Congruity. Bravo."

Everypony was clopping their hooves in standing ovation for the "volunteer" filly. She made her way back to her mother, while Booker was trying to piece together what just happened.

"It looks like our guest is coming to," Fink howled in laughter. "Don't worry, the vigor is even stronger when adults use it. I'd hate to see what happens if 'that' was used on poor Booker here."

Booker felt as if he regreted life, like all the sadness in the world was brought back to him. He felt his eyes were swollen and were tearing up some seconds ago.

"Don't worry Booker. You just had a gashing blow of, my favorite vigor, 'Liquid Pride'!" Fink telepathically held up a bottle in front of Booker. "You get your own. I never forget any of my participants."

Booker picked up the bottle of "Liquid Pride" and proceeded to head off the stage. Luckily, the main focus of the herd was on the little earth pony who cast magic. Booker just made his way to the other booths.

* * *

"You sir. What if I were to tell you you can have your own recording device wherever you go? Well ladies and gents, I have for you the revolutionary mechanical voxophone."

Booker seemed mildly intrigued, enough to at least have a look.

"Say anything into the microphone. Anything."



The device suddenly lost Booker's interest. It's like a mechanical parrot. Still, he decided to see what they would bargain for the device.

"How much for the voxophone."

"Only 150 bits."

150 bits was a lot of money. He lifted the mobile recording device and lowered it with certainty that it was not worth buying. It had to weigh at least a good 40 pounds.

"That comes with the microphone right?"

The vendor shook his head. "No. That's extra."

"Okay then."

Booker walked away before he wasted even more time. There was still the mare he needed to get from the tower.

* * *

"I'm Harpo Heartstrings. It gives me great pleasure to be here to present the lovely ponies of Celestia Fink & Fank Co.'s Amazing Handypony."

This spectacle had an even more impressive display. It certainly grabbed the most attention, but there would obviously be no public demonstration. Next to the speaker a figure nearly three times the height of a normal pony. The seemingly only pony thing about him was his heart, encased in glass around his entire metal body. Everything else looked artificial. The weirdest part about this pony would definitely be the fact that he only stood on two legs. The front legs were just floating there. On the end of each of them were 5 little limbs. They sort of look like... mini hooves.

"This is, by far the biggest feat in pony-kind. Look at the protruding limbs. Those are hands. They can be used to grab things with ease, and without magic. No more hoofs and mouths to open doors. These limbs can do all the practical things a unicorn can grab, only with the body. No horns attached."

The figure actually kind of looked like a metallic diamond dog, designed so that he could at least appear remotely pony. The handypony didn't seem so impressed. His ginormous new hands covered up his face when the bright lights of a photograph went off. Overall, the thing itself was not so interactive. Booker might have stayed if he had time to spare. He tried his best to minimize that time.

* * *

Booker proceeded further away from the fair, where he saw signs of a raffle. They seemed to also lead to where Monument Island was. Before he could press onwards, he was greeted by the most unlikely souls he expected to find.


"-or tails?"

Before Booker stood, undoubtedly, the pony couple that rowed him to the lighthouse in the first place. This time, the two were finely dressed. The colt had a whiteboard on his neck. Under the word heads, were at 12 tally marks. Tails had none. On one of the mare's hooves was a plate.

"How did you two get here?"

The colt tossed Booker a dollar coin.


"-or tails?"

Booker flipped the coin around. On one side was the face of Clopstock. The other side had the city. Booker had no clue what was going on. Like all things, he just decided to roll with it and see where it would take him.

"Tails," he said while landing the coin onto the mare's plate.

The two looked at the result happily. The mare took chalk from her pocket and marked his T-Chart's "heads" marker up one.

"It seems that it will continue," the mare said.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Depends on how you see it. Too bad neither of us saw this coming when it was destroyed."

"That's true. I thought that it would end the chain, not start a new one."

"Proof that this experiment won't stop what is to come."

"Then this is a good sign. All if the others have been successful. Why shouldn't this one be?"

"Because, the same cannot be said for everypony. Especially her."

"Which her?"

"Every her we've aided so far."

"Hm. You have a fair point."

The bizarre conversation between the two ended. Booker just continued walking by. The best reason as to why the two were there was that they were in his head. Hopefully he could have that portion of his brain that thought those two up extracted once his slate is clean.

* * *

"Monument Island was not even a mile away. For the first time since he got here, Booker felt good. Now, everything was going his way. Nothing ever went his way. Hope was just a trap to snare him in."

* * *

"And now, the 112 raffle has officially begun!"

Crowds cheered as Fank riled up the lottery drawers. Each of them were holding a baseball with a number on them. Booker had to make his way through all of the eager baseball holders. His destination was so close.

"Hey Mister!"


"You don't have a lottery number?"

The mare who stopped Booker was holding a basket of lottery baseball drawings. He saw no harm in doing so. He could at least just pull a number then haul ass to Monument Island. Leaving now would be too suspicious. Only when he grabbed a ball did he realize what that postcard from before was warning him about.

"Oh, #77," the mare said. "That's a lucky number. I'll be rooting for you."

At that moment, his calm collectedness turned to an all-out panic. He started making his way to the destination. He needed to move fast, but not fast enough to get everypony's attention.

"And the winner is...#77," Fank announced. "Come and claim your prize."

While normally, he could have slipped through the crowd, he was the last one to draw. They all knew that 77 was his. The surrounding ponies closed his walking route. The only way out now was to take the prize and go. Booker walked up to the front, ball at the ready to show. The curtains behind the stage Fank was standing raised. Everypony was chanting the tune to "Here Comes the Bride". On queue, a couple, the male a pony, the female a zebra, sat there. They were tied against their will, pleading for mercy.

"Well," Fank asked Booker. "Are you going to throw it, or do you have a STRIPED decision on what to do?"

Author's Note:

There will be a message at the top of every chapter for now on. It will contain a message from Twilight. Just think of them as the loading screen messages that Booker had in-game, only for Twilight. They're exactly that.