More the Merrier
There were two voices in the room: a mare's voice and a stallion's voice.
"Then how are we going to maintain equilibrium with all of the runic differentiation?" he said.
"That's the funny thing about equilibrium, you silly goose! It's gonna wanna equilibriumize itself and stuff!" she said.
"This is serious! If we don't design a functioning prototype, it might blow up in their faces! And then it'll blow up in our faces!" he said.
"Bzzzzt! Wrong! If we just reinforce the crystalline circumference with notched rings of manastone, then the container will go VROMMMM instead of KABLOOOEY!" she said.
"So, wait, are you trying to suggest that we create a purposefully destructible barrier in order to off-set the differentiation?"
"Well, of course, Clarkaroo! The energy ain't natural! Heck, I don't think it even belongs to this world! If you could call it the 'world' anymore. 'World diet?' 'World lite?'"
"I still think the problem with the last few prototypes has been a severe lack of reinforcement."
"And yet we keep bundling the ring with thicker and thicker metal stuff, only for it to break everytime! We gotta think outside the box, Clark! We gotta take a stand for forward thinking and say we're not afraid of skinny dipping."
"But, Props—"
"Heehee... skinny dipping gives me goosebumps..."
"AHEM... Props, they're going to buy this. You realize that, yes? They're going to think that we're delaying while we try to find a way to escape our capture."
'But I thought we WERE delaying while we tried to find a way to escape our capture."
"Er, well, yes. But that's just a background plan."
"But Ebon said—"
"I don't care what Ebon said. He's just one pony. One pony on the outside can't do any more than what you and I can do from inside here."
"Then how come there's some crazy tapping on the window?"
"Er—What? Props, what's that got to do with anything?"
"I dunno. Oh! There's totally some crazy tapping on the window!"
"Huh? What in Spark's name..."
The two bodies pivoted towards the far end of the room.
Pilate could barely feel them, for he was too focused on slapping his hooves across the window to the breaking point. "Hckkkt—Could you... open th-this... please...?" He hissed and sputtered, sweating bullets. He felt his hooves flailing in the open window. The furry figure on his shoulder was starting to spasm and buckle. "He c-can't hold us up for much longer!"
"Props, is it my lack of sleep, or is there a floating zebra outside our window?"
"Oooh! I know this one, Clark! Uhm... but wait, didn't you forget the part about him being red all over?"
Pilate slapped the glass even harder.
"Oh, for the love of science—Hold on!" The stallion's body rushed forward and undid the window latches. With a gust of air, Pilate flew in. He and Simon sprawled across the floor of the room, panting and wheezing for breath.
"Nnngh... Th-thank you..." Pilate stammered, struggling to stand up straight. "I don't think we could have lasted another minute..."
"Omigoshomigoshomigosh!" the mare shook and quivered. Suddenly, she bounded over. "A gray squirrel! Huggy huggy!" In a pulse from his manasphere, Pilate sensed the pony yanking a surprised Simon off the floor and nuzzling him dear. "Heeeeeee..." she squeed.
"Er... yes, well..." The stallion's eloquent voice drew nearer as he helped Pilate up to his feet. "This is a rather remarkable encounter, though I'm at a loss as to whether or not to call it fortuitous."
"That certainly makes the two of us." Pilate stood up, teetering slightly. "Please forgive me for the dramatic entrance—"
"'Dramatic,' I can most certainly handle," the stallion said, reaching forward and brushing Pilate's coat off. "'Fantastical,' however, is a new flavor for one such as me. Ahem. Dare I ask HOW you managed to do what you just did, good sir?"
"I'm still learning the ropes myself." Pilate sensed Simon's shivering body with the next manapulse. He turned towards the mare. "Please, be gentle with him. He's not as strong on the inside as he is on the outside."
"Awwwww... but he's such an adorable metaphysical monkey-face!" The mare's voice cooed. "I especially love the Neihkola Tesla conductors sticking out of his itty bitty skull! Very rocketpony!"
"Do forgive her enthusiasm," the stallion said. "She's more acquainted with grease and far less with etiquette—"
"First thing's first." Pilate leaned forward, his metal brow furrowed. "Nancy Jane."
"Nancy who, sir?"
"Is Nancy Jane here?" Pilate took a strong breath. "The beloved to Floydien?"
"Uhm... I do apologize, my good fellow, but there is no pony by that monicker here."
"Though I've been known to have a 'Fancy Mane' from time to time! Hee hee hee!" The mare gasped. "Say! What if I called myself 'Nancy Jane' from now on?! Maybe they'd let me out to do fashion shows!"
"I seriously doubt that, Props."
"Awwww..."
Pilate sighed, running a hoof through his mane. "Then where could she be...?"
"I've done a great deal of observation since arriving here," the stallion said. "There are only three prisoners housed in this area of Nightshade Industries. I mean, I wouldn't know what else to call this besides 'imprisonment.' We most certainly aren't here by choice."
"I dunno! I'm starting to like it!" she said.
The stallion groaned. "Well, most of us with the faculty to care..."
"Who... uh..." Pilate shifted nervously. "Who exactly are you?"
"Do forgive my ill manners." The stallion extended a hoof. "My name is Clark. Jasper Clark. It's a northern name."
"Er... yes..." Pilate shook his hoof. "I'll take your word for it."
"I'm an engineering physicist, graduated from the Central Confederate Academy of Technological Sciences. And the bubbly one who's embracing your odd rodent friend over there is a pony whom we like to call 'Props.'"
"Props?"
"Mostly because she has innate knowledge of machinery and an unhealthy love for it all the same."
"Oh, you haven't lived until you've cuddled with a wrench!" she chirped.
Pilate tried his best not to wince. "How... quaint. Uhm... my name is Pilate. I'm familiar with the Central Confederate Academy, but I was never transferred there. I... uh... suffered a terrible accident halfway through earning my doctorate."
"Oh?" Clark remarked. "What were you studying?"
"History and ancient linguistics."
"Ah. I do appreciate a good historian." Clark cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Might I ask what a history buff is doing levitating around the upper spire of an industrial complex?"
"It's a long story... too long a story to tell before the two guards who were just outside the door return. I came here looking for an equine named 'Nancy Jane.' Her beloved brought me here. He's a bizarre character named Floydien, and I think he may have suffered some... experience at the hooves of Nightshade Industries. All I know is that he crashed a zeppelin into the building bridged to this one several hours ago, and now I'm on my own with his little companion here..."
"So that's the reason for the thunderous explosion that shook us through to our fetlocks last night!" Clark exclaimed. "And here I thought that the Council of Ledo had finally intervened."
"The Council of Ledo?" Pilate swiveled to face him evenly. "Intervened? What for?"
"Oh, well... hmmm..." Clark's body leaned back on its haunches. "I do suppose that Nightshade would be resourceful enough to cover her corporation's tracks. It helps that she has Seclorum in the field..."
"Huh? Seclorum?"
"Say..." The mare had trotted over by then on silent cat feet, startling Pilate. "What's with your eyes, Mr. Zebra? They look like they're filled with the stuff I cough up after sniffing too much mana exhaust."
"Oh... uhm... yes, about that..."
"Are..." Clark's head pivoted. "Are you blind, Mr. Pilate?"
"For the most part," Pilate replied with a nervous smile. He felt four paws scampering across his body as Simon perched on the zebra's shoulder that was furthest from Props. "It's not quite what you think, though. I have this runic plate affixed to my neurological system and it channels mana to—"
"Good heavens!" Clark gasped, his head tilted to the device attached to Pilate's throat. "Is that what I think it is?!"
"Ooooh!" Props gasped, suddenly poking the sphere. "A floaty ball thingy!"
"Don't be so brutish, Props! Can't you see it's an Optical and Spatial Integration System?!"
"Yeah! A floaty ball thingy that makes blind ponies see!"
Jasper Clark groaned, but nevertheless tilted about to face Pilate once again. "I've heard of the device, but I've never seen it up close."
"You mean you're familiar with the functions of O.A.S.I.S.?" Pilate asked.
"Yes. I happen to be an avid fan of all of Dr. Bellesmith's works, and I've had the fortune of reading her theses extensively."
Pilate nearly jumped out of his coat. "You... you kn-know Bellesmith?"
"Oh, please. What good physicist hasn't heard of her studies? She's the subject of many enthusiastic forums back at the Academy."
"She's also my beloved!" Pilate stammered. "I'm trying to find her!"
"Really?" Clark remarked.
"I thought you were looking for the Nanciest of Janes!"
"Her too!" Pilate grumbled, then faced Clark again. "I've been separated from my beloved. If this is Blue Nova, then she must be located west of here in a Northern Ledomaritan Enforcers' Facility!"
"But... but you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Pilate. How could you be the beloved of a deceased professor?"
Pilate felt his blood turn to ice. "D-deceased?"
"Yes. Bellesmith is famous for both her writings as well as her tragic end."
"Where? How? When?"
"In the zeppelin crash outside of Mountainfall, of course."
Pilate's face tilted towards the floor. He murmured aloud. "Zeppelin crash... Mountainfall..." Slowly, he slumped down to his haunches. "Blessed Spark, they... th-they faked it..." His brow furrowed in utmost confusion. "Why would they fake it?"
"You mean she's alive?"
Pilate took a deep breath. Ultimately, he bore a bitter smile. "Oh, most definitely. And I am the lucky soul to be her betrothed. Ahem..." He shook the quivering tone in his voice and stood up again. "We were located to a facility called Blue Shelf not long after the accident that took my eyesight and... her horn..."
"Awwwwww..." Pilate could practically feel the mare's sad-face through the O.A.S.I.S. field. "She got her pointy-head de-pointed? That's totally crudtastic..."
"We managed, in spite of it all," Pilate said. "In Blue Shelf, there wasn't much else we could do but get used to our circumstances."
"'Blue Shelf...'" Clark murmured aloud. "I can't say that I've heard of it..."
"I doubt you would have," Pilate said. "Nightshade isn't the only organization capable of notorious acts. They undoubtedly kept the entire facility secret from the public. And if it's true that they faked my beloved's death, then that means—"
"Shhhh!" Props hissed suddenly. "The stonefaces are returning?"
"Stone... faces...?" Pilate murmured.
"She means guards!" Clark grunted. "I learned long, long ago not to distrust Props' hearing!"
"Quick! We gotta hide him!" Props squeaked. "Someplace that isn't colorful!"
"Behind the tool chests!" Clark said, already shoving the zebra. "Quickly!'
"But there's nothing to cover him—"
"They won't march in that far! They never do!"
"Yeah! What's up with that?! It's like they think we've got the mumps! Those dumps!"
"Shhh!" Clark whispered in Pilate's ears. "Stay absolutely still, and try and get your squirrel friend to cease chatting."
"But—" Pilate started.
"Please, sir. Trust us. So far, we're more than inclined to trust you. And that doesn't come easily in a place such as this."
As the stallion spoke, the door to the room could be heard unlatching. With a loud hiss, three bodies drifted in. One was being lifted telekinetically by the other two, and in a matter of seconds, he was being tossed into the center of the place.
"Oooof!" the voice of a young stallion grunted. "Unnngh... okay, for real, you two..." The lithe figure stepped up, brushed himself off, and turned around. "Is this because of the golden hay alfredo? It's not my fault that the supply didn't provide me with Mintian spices this time."
"Don't pretend you get to bark stuff at us, buddy," said one of the guards as the two backtrotted with rifles trained. "We'll haul you out of here once we need you again."
"You mean once you're hungry enough to forsake corporate rations again."
"Oh buck off." And the door sealed behind them with a hiss.
The newcomer sighed. "I swear, it'd be so easy... SO easy to poison them."
"Then why don't you, good friend?" Clark asked.
"I dunno. I'm holding out for the slim chance I can shove a fork someplace where the sun doesn't shine."
"Heeheehee! Everypony knows you couldn't be that much of a meany-meany head, Ebon."
"Yeah, well, don't tempt me, Props." The stallion pivoted about. "So, what'd I miss while I was gone tossing noodles? Were you two kind enough to design something that won't explode this time—?" He froze suddenly, his nostrils sniffing the air. "Uhhh... guys? Why's it smell like desert and saddle sweat all of the sudden?"
Pilate stood up, frowning. "I most certainly wasn't born in a desert!"
"Whoah! Okay... who invited the talking optical illusion?! And... uh... is that squirrel with bulbs sticking out of its head?"
"Neighola Tesla Coils!" Props beamed.
"Yeah. Whatever. Uhm... what the buck?"
"Ebon, meet Pilate," Clark said, his body gesturing between the two. "Mr. Pilate, this is Ebon Mane."
"Ebon Mane..." Pilate leaned his head to the side. "Is it just me, or does that sound familiar?"
"Goddess, I hope not," the stallion muttered.
"Pilate's a blind zebra!" Props exclaimed. "Only, his superpower is that he's not blind!"
"Uhhh... sure?"
Pilate let loose a flighty chuckle. "That's actually the best way to simply things."
"He's come looking for somepony's beloved," Clark said. "An equine by the name of 'Nancy Jane.' Does it ring a bell?"
"Hey, uh, I once worked at a diner called the 'Antsy Crane' way east in Gray Smoke, but that's all I can give ya!"
"Mmmmmm—they served jelly filled cobblers!" Props said. "I used to buy them by the bucketload just to grease the outer exhaust engines of the western platform thrusters!"
"I take it you've become well-acquainted with my friends here, Mr. Pilate," Ebon said in a pleasant voice.
"More or less. What's your role here, Mr. Mane?"
"Please, just call me 'Ebon.'"
"Are you a physicist... an engineer... a scientist?"
"Er... eheheh... no, not really."
"Oh? What are you, then?"
"I'm... uh..." Ebon's body shifted from one hoof to another. A pulse from O.A.S.I.S. revealed no horns, no wings; only a bashful smile. "I'm just a cook..."
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I am utterly confused now. Nancy Jane isn't here, Clark is sympathetic, Props is insane, and Ebon is a chef...
They also know Belle, which is interesting. You've piqued my curiosity again, Scolon!
A cook! A COOK?!
A cook eh? that'll explain being pulled out to make food for the enforcers...
What a fortuitous turn of events.
heh.
Is it just me, or is Props kind of like Floydien, only a bit... less?
I wonder if it's a reindeer thing...
2640382
No one said Nancy Jane wasn't there.
They only said that no person by the name of 'Nancy Jane' was there.
2640392
THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING
So we have found a pony with Pinkies randomness.
Antsy Crane! Hahahaha I laughed out loud!
2640446 ...I hate you for pointing that out. Goddammit.
Also, at least Props doesn't refer to himself in the third person.
2640464
It's something worth keeping in mind with regards to harmony and a potential return to that sort of theming within the context of the greater journey. There haven't really been any evocations of laughter, really, since the journey started.
To be honest, though, I would not be surprised if Props and Kera wound up related.
2640441
What he do?
I don't get it.
Now I'm even more curious as to what Nightshade is hiding. Ooh and a Pinkie-like pony! Future chapters will most certainly be more entertaining.
friggen props is another pinkie pie....glorious
I am apparently a mare, and Pinkie Pie's lost twin. I ain't even mad.
My god, the plot has thickened so much. We get three new characters (one of whom is delightfully insane). No word about "Nancy Jane". And apparently, Belle was given a fake death. That last one particularly intrigues me. Even MORE intriguing is that Belle apparently is oblivious to it. I've said on multiple occasions that I think there's a lot more to Belle's past than we've been told, and speculated that it has something to do with Nightshade. Well, things just got a WHOLE lot more interesting.
Excuse me while I spin into the sun.
What is Props, Pinkie Pie's reincarnation?
YAY SOMEOME RECOGNIZES THE PROPER NOUN THAT IS NIKOLA TESLA!!!!!!!!!!
Hmm... This story is starting to sound like a joke:
A cook, a blind historian, a mad scientist, an engineer, another scientist, an effeminate mercenary, a drunk guardsman, a cyborg, a cripple, a traitor, a street urchin and Rainbow Dash all walk into Blue Nova...
aj- check
rarity- check
pinkie- check
fluttershy-?
twilight- ?
dude, self publish these, they are awesome.
2640865
beats being Shell's bitch.
speaking of which...
Just a cook
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9wf-QTEO6Y
...why is Ebon lying about being just a cook? Could Props BE Nancy Jane but due to Pilate not understanding that Floydian calls everybody's beloved "Nancy Jane" he missed it? Maybe Floydian is so screwed up by what happened to him that he can't name things right so had to come up with words that don't seem to make sense.
2640465
Props is a she
Daww Props sounds soo cute and fun.
2642756
Yes, we all remember that part. I'm going off of the somewhat-accepted idea that Dash's quest to the Midnight Armory might somehow restore the other Elements. Then they would venture forth to try and save their missing friend.
2641747 Augh!
Those are some interesting characters you introduced there. Specially that mare, Props. I actually expected her to be zapped by Simon, Pikachu style.
2642535 She sounds like Pinkie Pie
2640673 Clark Kent?
Oh joy, more characters.
Oh god, Props' character for this story is absolutely awesome.
Propsie Pie. Indeed. I also thought of Kera's mother first.
Thing are getting way too real. I can't see through this. Not only is there way too much in this chapter to comment on, there are also way too many implications on way too many things. But there is one particular paragraph that catches my attention:
2640509 Take note of that Paragraph, Not-Ow-Guy! On the one hand, we have a definite implication of the Elements here, with Props so close to laughter. On the other hand, I feel like those lines up there really point at my theory, too: these guys are experimenting with magic or at least with something very closely related to magic. Now the last sentences seem to make clear that Props is aware of the world's true nature (since she knows it's going down the drain) - if we put those two things together, I would theorize that this unnatural energy she is speaking of might indeed be Harmony, which, as we know, does indeed not originally belong into that world.
Ceterum censeo Searinem delendam esse, since I cannot hope to bring up all topics anyways.
Props....
Props is awesome.
Then again, I am partial to nuts
So Props is like... Twilight Pie. :)
I can imagine IC gritting his teeth and forcing out each of Props' lines of dialogue like a stubborn kidney stone. Makes it all the more entertaining.
And so the plot thickens....again. And more interesting characters are added...again, All this hinting is doing my bloody head in. At least the fleshing out of Belle's back story helps ease my intense hatred of the character - sounds like she has a pretty bright head on her shoulders.
Props sounds familiar. Honeytiger doesn't know why.
Holy characters, Batman! Or should I say Superman? So much is going on, I might start having to write things down. Although, almost everyone has a pretty unique way of speaking, so it makes it much easier to keep the characters sorted. Plus those with "regular" dialogue are so rare that they're easy to keep track of, too.
This Nancy Jane chick must be from the North, too, if her name is anything to go by. That or Floydien is just using the term and Pilate is misinterpreting it somehow. *Shrugs*. I ain't even gonna try and predict what's going to happen, now. Ooh, except to say that maybe the whole twelve stories total thing isn't as crazy as we thought. Just because the first ones are super long, two hundred chapter epics, doesn't mean that they all have to be. Maybe the last six will be shorter and only focus on certain characters (the reanimated Mane 6, maybe?) Guh, I dunno. I need sleep.
Until tomorrow!
IIIIIt's Dashie's evaluation time!
So we get to meet some new characters here, although none of them are Nancy Jane, unfortunately. Because of this, I suppose that she could still be an inanimate object. Anyways, I like the personalities of these guys. And also, I can't believe that Ebon is only a cook. These are my thoughts so far.
-MASH
Considering this fic, and considering Prop's quote...I think he is secretly Steven Seagal.
Finally! After 270 chapters, we finally get to find out what O.A.S.I.S. stands for!
This is quite confusing...
I can't sum up this entire chapter in a few sentences like normally. 
-SPirit
Fear the might of the cook.
Hmm, I'm beginning to suspect that Nancy Jane is less of a who and more of a what...
Also, anyone else think Ebon is hiding something
"Oh, you haven't lived until you've cuddled with a wrench!"
Props is a bit more random than Kera is. Kera's clever, and rude, but hilarious. Props is just in your face. Kinda fits Pinkie better than Kera.
Haha, I think Props is going to be a favorite too.
Pinkie Pie
?
They faked Belle's death and sequestered her away. Those monsters.
This is a fun new set of OCs.
All things considered, that's not particularly surprising.
Geeze, new OC dude, that's kind of racist.
Wild guess, the cook is the really dangerous one.
Wait a second.
Bellesmith is famous for designing O.A.S.I.S., and she's also believed to have died in the crash that blinded Pilate and caused her to design the device in the first place? I'm having a timeline problem.