> Manticores, Crushes, and Alcohol
>  by Hidden Brony
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Intro (Under Construction)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter one is undergoing a complete rewrite, since the first half of it was written over a year ago before I started writing regularly. Don't judge the quality of the whole by the quality of the first chapter in the meantime. The rest is written much better, and only improving. I promise.

-HB

Streak was panicking.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t panicking. Not yet, at least. There was still an hour until sundown. He was fine. He’d make it through to the other side before sundown. He had to. The Everfree forest was dangerous during the day, everypony knew that. They also knew one fact; during the night, it was suicide.

Streak cringed at every leaf crunched, every twig snapped made him jump. He was going to be fine. He’d traveled the path to Ponyville before. He'd never been to the town, but he'd traveled the trail. He knew how long it took to cross the Everfree. It would help—mind you—if he knew where the path was.

It was so dark in the Everfree that he could hardly see his hoof in front of his face. This was the first time in his life that Streak was glad for his coloring. His grey coat helped him blend in better with with his surroundings. His black mane would have helped, if not for the rainbow streak down the center that was his namesake. That kind of gave him away.

A distant howl reminded him to keep his eyes on the trail. Timber wolves, poison joke, manticores, and worse stalked the woods here. To forget that would be fatal.

Speak of the devil; Streak scooted around a patch of unassuming blue flowers. Poison joke always seemed to have an ironic or amusing symptom, such as turning a pegasus’s wings backwards. Best to keep your distance. Lots of it.

Suddenly, he heard something walking behind him. He froze, listening for any clues as to what it was that was stalking behind him. Don’t panic, he thought to himself. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. He repeated it like a mantra.Don’t panic.

He turned around to be face to face with teeth. Above those teeth were wicked, intelligent eyes. Around its face, a mane of matted and bloody fur stood, framing its bestial features. It had a grin on its face that had more in common with a shark than Streak was comfortable.

Panic.

Streak took off at a gallop for the nearest edge of the forest. He heard a bellow from behind him as the manticore started running after him. The hunt had begun.

Streak ran, frantically searching for a trail or some other sign he was on the right path. He ducked around a tree, hoping to slow the beast. No such luck, he heard a splintering sound and a loud thud. He didn’t even have to turn around to know the manticore had just plowed through the tree without slowing down.

Streak managed to stay directly ahead of the manticore for a few minutes, but it was slowly catching up to him. He heard a faint rumbling sound in the distance and knew her was hopelessly lost. Where in the Everfree was there a waterfall?

Streak leaped through the foliage to find himself at a river. He turned left to go downstream, that waterfall would prove to be an impassable wall.

Shortly downstream, he would prove how right he was. He had misjudged which direction the waterfall was in, and found himself at the top of a cliff. The animal smashed down the shrubs between it and its prey, and charged.

At this point, Streak had to choices: death by mauling or death by jumping off a waterfall. He figured that if he was going to die it would be awesome, so he grinned at the creature and hopped backwards.

When he landed in the water, he smashed a hoof against a rock. As the current pulled him away, he took a mental inventory of himself.

His hoof wasn’t broken, thankfully, but it definitely was not in good condition. If he ran into another creature he was in no condition to run. Hopefully the river ran into the town nearby—Ponyville, if Streak recalled correctly.

At that moment there was a splash behind him. He looked to see the manticore folding its wings and floating along behind him, a hungry look in its eyes.

“Oh yeah,” Streak deadpanned, “wings.”

Both Streak and the manticore tumbled down the river, Streak never quite able to get away and the monster never quite able to catch up with him.

Streak saw a slower river—a stream, really—branching off of the main river and managed to get himself angled down it. The furious roar fading behind him indicated that the beast had not.

Within an hour, Streak saw Ponyville. Luckily, the sun was down, which meant that ponies would be off the street and not prone to ask questions, allowing him to reach whatever passed for a hospital here unmolested. Unluckily, that meant there would be no direction to the nearest hospital. Streak needed to get his hoof looked at in a bad way.

As Streak wandered, looking for the hospital, he heard a thump and roar from behind him. The manticore had followed him to Ponyville, and it was hungry.

Streak stared in horror as the beast walked towards him. He knew he was in no condition to fight, or even run. Anypony that had been tempted to come out had gotten scared off when the manticore showed up. All he could do now was close his eyes and hope it was over quickly.

He felt a sharp pressure on his side as something hit him, and his flight through the air was accompanied by a wet ripping sound. He slammed into a building, nearly blacking out.

He was surprised when the pain immediately became a dull ache, no sign of the terrible damage those claws should have dealt. Streak opened his eyes to see a teal-maned pony lying on the ground, red staining his white coat.

The pony shakily stood up, staggering to the side. The creature tried to hit him, but didn’t count on the stagger, so it missed. This, however, infuriated it. Why would its prey not stand still?

Looking at this pony Streak noticed two things: he had a horn, and his stumbling wasn’t from any injury. Streak fought the urge to facehoof. This stallion was drunk.

The drunken pony ducked under another swing. Well, ‘ducked’ is too strong a word. ‘Stumble and faceplant’ is a better way of saying it. Standing up, the stallion managed to dodge another swing.

Streak had seen enough. Looking around the street, he saw frightened faces sticking out of curtains. Cowards. Their neighbor was going to die and nopony raised a hoof to help him?

As if on cue, a rainbow streaked across the street, slamming into the manticore. There was a bright flash, and a lavender unicorn appeared, accompanied by an orange mare. The mare bucked the beast, keeping it off balance long enough for the unicorn to grab the drunken pony with her magic and pull him to safety. As soon as he was out, the orange pony disengaged to give him first aid. 

Streak saw that the rainbow pegasus was having issues dodging the beast’s paws, so he hobbled toward it with a shout of, “Hey, dragon bait!”

The monster roared at him, providing just enough of a distraction to allow the pegasus to get a shot at the side of its head. The beast stumbled, blinked, and collapsed into unconsciousness from the hit to its temple.

“Ha! Hit him in his reset button!” the pegasus cheered.

“Now calm down there, RD,” the orange mare said. “Fightin’s never something to be proud of.”

“AJ’s right, Rainbow,” the unicorn said as the pegasus opened her mouth to protest, “but at least there wasn’t too much damage.”

“Ahm gonna hafta disagree witchu there,” the drunk pony slurred. “Ahm smashed and it still hurts!”

“I swear, Change,” the unicorn sighed, “you have the worst of luck.”

“ ‘Cause I gived it all to our friend o’ there,” Change said, pointing a hoof at one side of Streak, then quickly switching over to the other side. “One of ‘em, at least.”

“Let’s just get you to the hospital,” she said, moving to support the drunken pony.

“Ah can support mahself, thank you very much!” he began, stepping forward and faceplanting. “I meant to do that!” he shouted, muffled by the ground. The unicorn sighed and picked him up with her magic, and the group started walking towards the hospital.

“Uh, Twi? Ah hate to be a bother, but our friend here is limping,” AJ said.

“I’m fine,” Streak said, suppressing a groan. He really didn’t want to be a bother about a bruised hoof when the other stallion got slashed by a manticore. “I get worse hopping out of bed in the mornings.”

“Yeah, you’re lying,” Rainbow said, flying up next to him. “Your hoof is swollen and bruised, you’re limping is incredibly pronounced, and your dye job is horrible. Like, I like having a fan, but you could have at least gotten the other three-quarters of your mane dyed, too.”

“RD!” AJ admonished the flier. “You don't just-"

"Miss Rainbow," the now mildly annoyed stallion began, "might I point out that I am not nearly as injured as your friend there, nor nearly as drunk. On top of that, I have neither heard of you, nor would I dye my mane had I ever."

"Oh, Mr. High and Mighty, are we?" she asked, annoyed. "Too impressive for the awesomeness that is Rainbow Dash, are we?"

"Have you even heard the word humility?" he asked her. "If you were so great, your actions would cause others to speak for you. Since I have not heard of you in my nearly two decades of life, I am forced to believe that you aren't anything special, or if you are, it isn't as special as you believe."

The rainbow-maned pony seethed in anger at his words. "You gonna back that up?"

"Back what up?" Streak asked. "There was literally nothing in my sentence that was boastful or challenging. It was all observation. Observation that hit close to home, by your reaction."

The prismatic-maned pony grit her teeth as AJ stepped inbetween the two. "Now hold it for a second and think, RD," she said. "He's tryin' to get you riled up."

"Not very hard," he said, immediately regretting his poor choice of words. He had intended to admit that he was slightly antagonizing her, and now it sounded like he was making fun of her for her hot-headed nature.

The pegasus glared at him, before snorting and taking the lead, setting a quickened pace. Streak wasn't able to keep up, so AJ walked pressed up against him, supporting his weight so he didn't have to put it on his injured leg. He gave her a thankful smile. When they reached the counter, Twilight checked in the drunk pony—who Streak learned was Frequent Change—and stood out of the way for Streak to check in.

“Name?” the bored-sounding secretary asked.

“Streak,” the such-named stallion replied.

“Injury?” she asked.

“My hoof’s not too happy with me right now,” he said.

“Any specifics we should know?” she asked.

“I hit it on a rock jumping off of a waterfall,” was his reply. At the shocked silence, he asked, “What?”

“Why did you jump off a waterfall?” Twilight asked slowly.

“Because the manticore was behind me,” he replied. “Speaking of, did we just leave it lying in town square?”

“Nope, we sent a letter to the Princess and she sent a detachment of royal guards to bring it back to the Everfree,” Twilight replied with an ‘are you an idiot?’ look on her face.

“Wait, how long ago did you send that letter?” Streak asked, worried.

“Just before Twi teleported us,” AJ said. Seeing the worried look on his face, she added, “Spike sends letters instantly to the Princess. She got it.” Streak let out a sigh of relief at that.

“Hey Streak, get that leg looked at,” Twilight said, turning to Rainbow, who was studying every move he made. “And Rainbow? Go get Pinkie, Shy, and Rarity so we can all be there when Change wakes up.”

Rainbow shook her head to clear her thoughts. “On it!” with that, she shot out the doors.

The nurse looked at Streak and motioned for him to go down the left hallway, “Room seventeen, the doctor will be in in a few.”

He thanked the nurse and limped to the room specified. After a few minutes, a cream stallion with a brown mane and a white lab coat walked in. “Now what’s this I hear about you jumping off a waterfall, young man?” he asked while examining the other stallion's hoof.

“Well, you see—” Streak started to say.

“What could have possibly inspired you to do something so monumentally stupid?" he asked, walking to a shelf on the wall and gazing at the multitude of leg braces there.

"It was better than being mauled to death by a manticore?" the injured stallion asked.

"Slightly," the doctor said, grabbing one of the braces and walking back. "There was still a good chance that you would have been killed by the jump."

Streak shrugged as the doctor fit the brace onto his wounded hoof. "It was a possible death versus a guaranteed death. Plus, now I can say that I jumped off a waterfall, which is awesome."

The doctor shook his head at that, but he finished fiddling with the brace, saying, "That is horrible logic, but it works. Try to walk on that, see if I need to grab another brace."

Streak complied, giving a low whistle of appreciation as none of his weight was put onto his hoof. "Thanks, doc. I don't have any money, though, so how would I pay for this?"

"Accidents in the Everfree are covered for free here," the doctor said, "even if they follow you to town."

Streak winced. "Yeah, sorry about that."

The other stallion waved his hoof dismissively. "We have to rebuild half of Ponyville every few months. We're used to things wandering in from the Everfree."

The injured stallion's jaw dropped. "Why do you stay here?"

"This is our home," he replied, swelling with pride. "We won't abandon it because it gets a little crazy. In the past month alone, we've hosted the return and fall of Nightmare Moon, and had the entire town whipped into a frenzy when the local librarian secured an extra ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala."

"How does the librarian get two tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala?" Streak asked.

"She's Princess Celestia's student," was the reply. "She was sent to stop Nightmare Moon and decided to stay."

Streak was silent for a moment, before saying, "That sounds like somepony I want to get to know."

The doctor arched his eyebrow. "You don't already? You came in with her."

Streak groaned, "Don't tell me it's the rainbow one."

The doctor chuckled, "No, it's not Rainbow Dash."

"That's seriously her name?" Streak asked.

"It is," the doctor said. He then got on topic again, "The librarian is none other than Twilight Sparkle."

"As in 'purple pony with magic' Twilight Sparkle?" Streak asked.

"The same. Come now, I have to check in on Change," the doctor said, walking out of the room. Streak followed closely behind. "If you spend any time around him, do try and get him clean, would you?"

"Is he always drunk?" Streak asked.

The doctor nodded. "Always," he said. "I'm pretty sure that he lives at the bar, but you'll have to ask Berry about that."

As they reached the door, Streak spoke up, “Uh, doc? You wouldn’t happen to have any openings for someone with literally no training in the medical field, would you?”

He stopped with his hoof on the door. “I can’t say that we do, why?”

“I kinda don’t have a job, and I don’t know what I’m good at yet.” Streak turned his flank forward, showing off a solid grey where his cutie mark should have been.

The doctor’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have a cutie mark?”

“If I do, it’s the same color as my flank,” Streak said. “Blank as the day I was born.”

The doctor sighed. “I can’t help you right now. Try talking to the mayor. She should be able to find you a job and a place to stay for a while. Come back tomorrow and schedule a visit, though.”

Streak cocked his head. “Why? Afraid I’ll have some strange disease?” he asked.

“No,” the doctor said. “Sometimes there are magical maladies that can prevent a pony from getting a cutie mark. They are only found in the Everfree, though.”

“I’ve lived on the other side of the Everfree for my whole life,” Streak said. “I’ve been inside at least once.”

The doctor nodded, smiling at the other stallion’s poor attempt at humor. He pushed the door open, revealing a grumpy stallion on the bed. “Hey, doc! Why can’t I have a beer?”

“Alcohol dilutes your blood,” the doctor said. “So no, you can’t have any.”

“It’s a communist conspiracy,” the stallion muttered. “First you sober me up with magic, now you tell me I can’t drink. I paid good money to get drunk!”

“Do you even remember what happened?” Streak burst into the conversation.

Change looked at him. “You look. . . familiar. Like I know you, but don’t.”

“You saved his life,” the doctor said.

“I what?” Change asked. “What do you mean I saved his life?”

“I was chased into town by a manticore,” Streak said. “You took a hit for me, buying time for ponies to come and rescue both of us.”

“I. . . think I remember that,” the other stallion said. “I owe my life to that hot piece of flank on wings, don’t I?”

“If you mean Rainbow Dash, then yes you do,” the doctor said. “I also no longer wonder why you’re single.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me,” Streak said, planting his hoof into his face.

“Hey, I don’t mind being single. Berry gives me a discount on my next drink every time I get shot down hard by a new mare.” Change grinned stupidly. “Twelve and counting.”

“There is something wrong with you,” Streak said, scrunching his face in distaste.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,” the drunk said. “Come drinking with me sometime. I’ll show you the ropes.”

“I don’t think—” Streak started.

“I insist. You owe me, don’t you? I’ll even pay,” the other stallion said.

“Let me check those bandages and get out of your mane,” the doctor said, “so that I don’t have to listen to this entire conversation.”

Streak sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m not taking mare advice from you.”

“Hey, man, I’m great with the ladies,” Change said, indignant. “I just like getting discount drinks and don’t really care about getting laid. If you listen to me, you’ll even be able to bag the librarian. She’s so oblivious that you’d need to stick your hoof right up in her—”

“I’m done,” the doctor said, while Change was talking, “and out.” he walked out while the other stallion continued talking.

“—and then she’ll finally understand what you’re saying. Bye doc!” The stallion waved at the retreating doctor. “Okay, he’s gone. Look kid, I heard you outside. I can’t get you a job, but I have more house than I know what to do with. You can crash with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Streak asked. “I’m not like you.”

“I keep regular hours, and I’ll leave Berry instructions to keep me from leaving the bar past midnight,” the drunk said. “I won’t wake you. Plus I keep pretty regular hours. I get up at six, go to work, go to the bar, and go to bed.”

Streak paused. That actually sounded good. “Do I pay rent?”

“When you get a job,” Change said. “I won’t kick a fella while he’s down. I already own the place, so I’m not losing anything by letting you chill. I won’t even kick you out if you can’t pay. Won’t even charge you extra.”

“This sounds too good to be true,” Streak said cautiously. “What’s the catch?”

“You come drinking with me when the doc finally lets me out of here,” the drunk said. “It’s a really good deal on your part.”

Streak sighed, “Fine. I’ll come drinking with you sometime.”

Change smiled. “Good. I leave my doors unlocked. Your room is the one with no bottles in it.”
> Applebuck Season
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“So you’re finally out,” Streak said as he walked with his usually-drunken companion out of the hospital.

“So I am,” Change said, pausing momentarily to stretch. “First step is to grab my wallet from the bar. Berry’s a good gal; she’ll have held it for me.”

“Are you sure?” Streak asked. “And is this just an excuse to get a drink?”

“Yes, on both counts,” the drunkard said, smirking. “As I said, Berry’s a good gal. On an unrelated note, I swear she’s asexual. She’s been hit on by so many ponies without even a twitch of reaction.”

“I assume one of them was you?” the other stallion asked as they rounded a corner. He’d been here long enough to talk to the mayor. There were no job openings that didn’t require a matching cutie mark, as he expected. What he did instead was learn the lay of the land. He obviously knew where Change’s house was, he’d been to the library to thank Twilight for her part saving him, he’d visited Sweet Apple Acres—that wagon accident was totally not his fault, though, and the doctor said Big Mac would be better in a few weeks—and he’d memorized where the bar was. He had the feeling he’d be there a lot to drag a passed-out stallion back with him.

“Nah, I think that’s why she likes me so much,” Change said. “My fur is white, so she can easily tell how much I’ve drank by the color of my face, and I don’t hit on her when she obviously doesn’t want it.”

“Maybe she does, but just doesn’t want to be somepony’s desperate lay?” Streak suggested as they approached the bar. “Maybe she’d be more open to it if someone tried to flirt with her outside of her bar?”

“Outside of her bar?” the drunk laughed. “Kid, you know your way to the bar, but you don’t know Berry at all, do you?”

“I didn’t go inside the bar,” the younger stallion said sheepishly. “I figured you’d want to introduce me.”

“Oh ho ho,” Change said, grinning, “you didn’t want to be clueless, did you?”

“I’m only going in because you’re forcing me,” Streak reminded. “This won’t be a regular thing.”

“Depends on how much fun you are drunk,” the older stallion chuckled as they walked through to doors to the bar interior. “Honey, I’m home!” the drunkard shouted out.

“Doctor Stable says no alcohol for a week,” was the barmare’s reply. She was a young mare, and Streak had to admit she was fairly good looking. Not quite drop-dead gorgeous, but pretty. She had a berry-red mane and a matching tail, and her coat was a lightened, slightly purple variation of the same color.

“What?” Change said. “Aw, come on, Berry! I even brought a new customer!”

“Once, Change,” Streak said, “and on your bit.”

Berry giggled as she resumed wiping the bar down. “You shouldn’t even be in here, Change,” she said. “We don’t open until six.” She looked over at the new pony. “Cute kid,” she said, smirking, “is he even old enough to drink?”

“I am, thank you very much,” Streak said, frowning. He shifted his brace so it was more comfortable, a move that caught Berry’s eye.

“What’s the brace for?” she asked. “I heard Change saved somepony from a manticore, and I assume it was you. From the story, though, you didn’t get hit by it.”

Streak shrugged. “I jumped off a waterfall to get away from it. Landed wrongly.”

She stared at him with an unreadable deadpan. After a few seconds she sighed. “I don’t know whether I’m supposed to be impressed by what you did or your stupidity.”

“A bit of both?” the drunk suggested. “And a beer for Change?”

"No, Change,” Berry said. She turned to Streak. “Might as well get acquainted.” She stuck out a hoof. “The name’s Berry Punch, and I run the only bar in Ponyville.”

Streak bumped his hoof against hers, a move that got him a nod from the barmare. “Streak. I’m Change’s roommate. You wouldn’t happen to have a job opening, would you?”

“Depends on the cutie mark,” she replied, causing Streak to sigh in disappointment.

“What about none?” he asked.

She winced in sympathy. “Sorry, kid. No openings for blanks. Nothing against you, though—I’m sure you’re a great kid—I just can’t take the risk of hiring somepony without a mark.”

“It’s what I expected,” Streak said. “Nothing seems to get me a mark, though.”

“Tell you what,” the barmare said, “I’ll keep an ear out for jobs from my customers. You’ll most likely have odd jobs until you get a mark, but it pays the bills.”

Streak nodded. “That’ll do. Thanks Berry.”

“Woo hoo!” Change interjected himself into the conversation. “Already on a first name basis! You go champ!” He jabbed his elbow into the younger stallion’s ribs.

“Change, you’re already on a dry week, don’t make me make it two,” Berry threatened. The stallion in question opened his mouth, and she added, “Three.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said. “I’m half your business, most days.”

“I’d rather go out of business than let you drink yourself to death,” Berry said. “Now get your flank out of my bar. It’s only two, so we don’t open for another four hours.” At his brightened look, she smirked. “Non-alcoholic only for you, buddy. I’m not making the doc mad.”

He frowned, “I guess I’ll have to bum a drink off of someone else, then.” He turned to the chuckling stallion next to him. “C’mon, Chuckles. Let’s head home so I can check for any non-empty bottles.”

As they were walking down the street, they felt the ground shake underneath them. “Uh oh,” Streak said. “That can’t be anything good.”

“Nah, we’ve had our bit of interesting for the next week or so,” the drunk replied. “It seems to be on a clock or something.”

“STAMPEDE!” Rainbow yelled from on high.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Change sighed. “And I don’t have a drink.” Streak's eyes widened as he saw the stampede. A whole herd of cows were running towards town. He looked over at Change, who had the top half of a flower pot on his head, complete with a bright pink flower sticking up. The shaking of the ground had dropped a pot onto the stallion. "This is why I drink," he muttered.

"How can you be so calm? It's heading right for us!" Streak exclaimed.

"YEEHAW!" a familiar accent called out.

"That's why," Change said nonchalantly, turning to head home. "Let's head into town, she's got this."

But Streak didn't hear him. He was too busy watching the farm-mare round up the herd. The way she ran was straightforward and without flourish, but in that regard was elegant in its honesty. He watched her muscles ripple under her coat as she threw a lasso to redirect the stampeding bovine.

"Streak?" Change asked, turning to his taciturn companion. He chuckled when he saw him spellbound. "Careful, I think you're drooling."

"Wha?" Streak snapped out of his daze, quickly wiping the sides of his mouth in panic. Finding them dry, he turned to glare at the other stallion. "Very funny."

"I thought so," the sober drunkard chuckled. "C'mon, let's head back home. The beer calls to me."

Streak followed along beside the other stallion, looking back to get one last look at Applejack. He saw her rear up, nearly mesmerizing him again before he tore his eyes away.

"Someone's got a crush," Change teased as they walked.

"Do not," Streak bristled indignantly. "I know how to appreciate a mare in shape is all."

"Never said I was talking about you," the drunk said, smirking.

Streak paused momentarily before grumbling, "Whatever."

The duo walked through town in silence. That didn't stop Change from thinking up a plan to get Streak locked into a room with Applejack during heat week, though. It was getting to be that time, after all. They reached Change's house in a few minutes. The stallion threw open his front door, saying, “Home sweet ho–Streak what did you do?”

“I cleaned up,” the other stallion replied. “It was a pigsty in here.”

“I liked it that way!” the drunk exclaimed. “I knew where everything was!” Looking around at the front room, there was still stuff on the floor and couch that didn’t belong. What was missing, however, was the bottles that had coated the house.

“I got rid of all the bottles,” Streak said. “Not only was it nasty in here, but all that glass would be a hazard to a pony that was drunk. Like you.”

“I’m not always drunk,” Change muttered.

“You’re right. Sometimes you’re asleep. How do you even have a job?” Streak asked.

Change indicated his cutie mark, a tankard with a cloth shining it. “I keep the bar clean.”

“Why does it not surprise me that you have a job at the bar?” the other stallion asked.

“Because I practically live there?” Change asked. “What did you do with the bottles?”

“They’re in the spare room,” Streak replied. Change practically ran to get to the room. He dove in and started shuffling through bottles.

“Is this vodka?” he muttered to himself, picking up a half-empty bottle. He took a swig before giving it an odd look. “Water. Who puts water in a beer bottle?”

“I do,” Streak said. “All you have in this house is alcohol.”

“There’s a reason for that,” the drunkard growled. “How much did you leave in here?”

“I filled some bottles with water—after washing them out, of course—and all the ones that weren’t empty are being held by Berry,” Streak said as he smirked.

“I thought you hadn’t been in there before?” Change said, narrowing his eyes.

“I lied,” the other stallion said. “She’s the one that informed me of your dry week, so I took all the alcohol out of the house.”

“You are a cruel, cruel monster,” the drunk moaned, flopping onto his back. “I can’t even get a drop? Just a single drop, that’s all I need!” he begged.

“Not a drop of alcohol for a week, Change,” Streak said. “You’re a big boy, you can handle it.”


—*~*~*—


“C’mon, Berry!” Streak heard Change begging as he walked into the bar. “I’ll even take that low alcohol swill! Just give me something!”

“No means no, Change,” Berry said as Streak walked up to the duo. “I already offered half price drinks for ponies that refuse to give you any beer, and that should tell you how hard I’m trying to keep you dry this week.”

“Berry,” the drunkard wined, “c’mon, darling!”

“No,” she said.

“Am I interrupting?” Streak asked.

“Yes,” Change said.

“No,” Berry said at the same time. She got a glare from the stallion. “Come, sit. I’ll get you a drink.” Streak got a glare from the stallion as well at her comment.

“Just a water,” Streak said, ignoring his companion. “You going to be at Applejack’s award presentation?”

“You come in here every day and just get water,” Berry said, shaking her head and sliding him a glass of water. “You’re bad for the ego, Streak.”

“I’m not a drinker,” he replied, “but you didn’t answer my question.”

“No, I’m not,” she said. “Nothing against Applejack,” she added at Streak’s look, “she’s a great mare, but I won’t close my bar to go to a voluntary ceremony. There will still be ponies that want a drink.”

“How much business do you get from a small town like Ponyville?” he asked.

“Mine,” Change grumbled.

“Enough to stay afloat doing what I love to do,” Berry said. “Gives me enough money to live, so that’s good enough for me.”

“On that topic, you find any openings?” Streak asked. “I’d like to have some spending money.”

“Not much of anything, I’m afraid,” Berry said. “They all back out once they hear that you’re a blank.”

“I figured as much,” the blank sighed.

“All but one,” Berry said.

“Who?” Streak asked with excitement.

“Don’t get too excited,” the barmare said. “Big Mac was in here, talking about how he wished his sister would accept some help. He said he’d even pay somepony that could convince Applejack to let them help.”

“Well there goes that,” Change muttered, his face pressed against the bar.

“What do you mean?” Streak and Berry asked at the same time.

He lifted his head up from the bar and looked at the stallion. “Streak, Applejack is the most stubborn mare I have ever met,” he said. He turned to the mare. “Berry, Streak has a huge crush on Applejack, and will fumble all over his words.”

“Do not!” Streak exclaimed, flushing.

“Not being too convincing, with them red cheeks n’ all,” a deep voice said from behind him.

“Anyone would be embarrassed by. . . this conver. . . sation. Hi Big Mac.” Streak started out well, but got really nervous when he saw the massive stallion was standing directly behind him. “You feeling better?” he asked nervously.

“Eeyup,” the big stallion said, sitting down on the open stool next to Streak. He snorted. “Water? T’ each their own, Ah guess. Berry, I’ll take the usual.”

“One cider comin’ up!” Berry said in a horrible imitation of the Apple family accent. Big Mac smiled at that.

“Make tha two,” Change called out in a horrible Big Mac impression while Berry had her back turned.

“No, Change,” Berry said without turning around.

“Horseapples,” the drunk grumbled, slamming his face into the bar. “Ow.”

Berry chuckled as she returned with a tankard of cider, placing it in front of Big Mac. “How did you know that it wasn’t vodka?” Streak asked. “I know that Berry sells the stuff.”

“Half of it’s gone, and you ain’t drunk,” Big Mac replied. “Plus Berry was teasin’ ya ‘bout only drinkin’ water a bit earlier.”

“I had heard that you don’t like to talk much,” Streak thought out loud, “but you don’t seem to have a problem with it now.”

The large stallion shrugged. “Ah talk when ah have a reason ta,” he said. “If Ah don’t have a reason, Ah don’t talk.”

“Use your talking powers to tell Berry to give me a beer,” Change muttered from his place face first on the bar. “I can’t take it anymore!”

“You have a day left,” Berry said, “then you can drink again. That is, if you don’t sneak a drink during that time.”

“I’ll just drink at home, then,” the stallion grumbled.

“Not a chance, Change,” Streak said, much to the drunkard’s dismay. “But back to the job?”

“All ya got ta do is convince Applejack ta let ya help her harvest, and not be completely incompetent,” Bit Mac said. “As long as ya aren’t slowin’ her down, you’ll do fine.”

“How do I do that?” Streak asked.

“Harvest or convince Applejack?” the large stallion asked.

“Yes.”

“Kick tha trees, and ya don’t,” the stallion said. “Ah’ll be more specific on the first part if ya can get Applejack to let you help.”

“That sounds like a great way to do this,” Streak muttered. “So no help on convincing Applejack to let me help?”

“Don’t trip over yer words, don’t lie, and don’t try n’ flirt,” the stallion said. “The first two are to help you get the job; the last one is ta keep ya alive after yer done. Am ah clear?”

“Crystal,” Streak gulped.

“Good. Don’t ever think you can lie to AJ, though,” the other stallion said. “She’s a pony lie detector, Ah swear.”

A stallion that looked exactly like Doctor Stable spoke up from the next table over, “She can even tell when you’re not telling the whole truth, so a lie of omission doesn’t work, either.”

“Caramel, get back to yer drinkin,” Big Mac grumbled. The chastised stallion flushed and turned back to his table. The big stallion turned back to his companion. “Look, just talk ta her after the ceremony. If it don’t work, it don’t work.”

“I guess,” Streak said, taking another sip of his water.

“Hey, hey Caramel,” Change said, getting the attention of the stallion in question. “Ask your brother if he can lift my dry week early. I need something to drink, man.”

“Not a chance,” the stallion said. “I’m not going anywhere near that topic with him. You’re on your own.” Change planted his face back in the bar, grumbling unintelligibly.

“You might want to hurry, kid,” Berry said. “The ceremony started a minute ago.”

“Wha–? Aw, come on!” Streak said. “I gotta go. Have fun Change, Mac.”

“I’ll put your drink on Change’s tab, as usual,” Berry said. “Go. Shoo. Mares don’t like a stallion that isn’t on time, and that goes double for farm mares.”

Streak flushed brightly as he ran out of the bar. He trotted through town, managing to arrive at the site of the ceremony right after it ended. He saw some of Applejack’s friends talking amongst themselves.

Twilight said,  ”Was it just me, or did Applejack seem a little—”

“Tired?” Rainbow suggested.

“Dizzy?” Fluttershy contributed.

“Messy?” Rarity said. At the looks that got her, she said, “Well, did you see her mane?”

“She seemed fine to me!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Woo! Woo!”

Twilight gave off a thoughtful hum as she looked over to where Applejack had run off. She started trotting in that direction right as Streak showed up. “Hey, girls,” he said. “Applejack wouldn’t happen to be here, would she?”

“Sorry, darling,” Rarity said. “Just left.”

“Why do you want to know, Streak?” Rainbow asked, flying right up in his face. Rarity, Pinkie, and Fluttershy had simultaneous looks of understanding pass over their faces at the mention of Streak’s name.

“I need to talk to her,” Streak said, not backing down. He was terrified of Big Mac, but that’s because the guy was twice his size! Rainbow didn’t intimidate him in the least.

“What about?” Pinkie asked, bouncing up to the duo.

"I don't know if it's the kind of thing that she'd like me talking about," he said. "Suffice to say that I might have a job for a while soon."

"Well she's been pretty busy," Rarity said. "She's going to be helping Rainbow, Pinkie, and Fluttershy. Maybe you could catch her one of those times?"

"I could," Streak said. “Which of you is first?”

“Me,” Rainbow said, “and there’s no way I’m letting you take any of my time with her away.”

“You could try to be friendly,” Fluttershy admonished. “At least, if that’s okay with you. . . .”

“I’m convinced she can’t, frankly,” Streak said. “She has her head so far in the clouds she can’t tell that the sun doesn’t revolve around her.”

“Excuse me,” Rainbow growled, shoving her nose right up against the stallion’s. “Want to say that again to my face?”

Without batting an eye, Streak said, “You are an egotistical, arrogant, stuck up blowhard that has her head shoved so far up her own plot that she can’t tell that other ponies exist that do anything important besides cheer her on.” If looks could kill, they would need a bucket to get Streak off the street. Rainbow was shaking with rage at this point, snarling as she pushed her face into the stallion’s. “If you would stop that,” he said, “that would be nice. I don’t need a rumor that I have anything to do with you going around.”

“Streak!” Rarity admonished. “I’m ashamed of you, acting that way!”

He took a step backwards, removing his face from the flier’s. “I’m afraid you have the advantage on me, m’lady,” he said in a perfect Canterlot Noble accent. “You know my name, but I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

“That’s a pretty good impersonation of a Noble, I must say,” Rarity said. “I am Rarity, and any friend of Change’s is a friend of mine.” She held out her hoof for a hoofshake.

Streak surprised her by grabbing her hoof and bringing it up to his mouth, kissing it. “Charmed,” he said as she blushed. He jumped as Pinkie let out a loud gasp.

“OHMYGOSHIFORGOTYOURPARTY!” she shouted. “INEVERFORGETAPARTYWEHAVEAPARTYEMERGENCYOVERHERESOMEONECALLTHEPARTYDOCTOR!” With that, she jumped in the air and vanished in a pink blur.

“Uh, wha–?” Streak asked. “What? I don’t—”

“Don’t try and understand her, darling,” a slightly red Rarity said. “She’s impossible to fathom.”

He just shook his head and turned to the last member of their group. Fluttershy was cowering behind Rarity at the moment, hiding her face behind her bangs.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Rainbow growled. “You aren’t flirting with Fluttershy, buddy.”

Streak completely ignored her, walking up to the shy mare. When she shrunk back, he sat down. When she still tried to escape, he sighed. With a swing, he smashed his head into the road they stood on, giving himself a headache. It achieved the desired result though, as Fluttershy was by his side instantly checking to see if he was okay.

“Oh, dear,” she fretted as she felt his head for injuries. “Oh, my. Oh, no. Oh, my.”

“Why did you do that?” Rarity exclaimed. “What could you have possibly been thinking?”

“Something dumb enough to smash its face on the ground on purpose can’t be dangerous,” he reasoned as the shy mare pulled some bandages out of nowhere. He felt a bit of blood run down his forehead. Maybe that wasn’t his smartest move.

“Oh, dear,” Fluttershy was still saying. “Uh, stand still. Don’t move, please.”

Rainbow scoffed. “Yeah, you’re a regular idiot. I’m out, Applejack is going to be back in town in a few hours and I need to build my catapult.”

“Have fun storming the castle!” Streak called out to Rainbow’s retreating form. Once she was out of hearing range, he exclaimed, “Sweet Celestia! Why did I do that?” Fluttershy paused at his outburst before returning to applying bandages to his head. “My head!”

“It worked, at least,” Rarity said with a small smile.

“Yeah,” he said. Fluttershy stepped back to check her work, giving it a satisfactory nod. Streak continued with introductions. “My name is Streak,” he said softly, so not to startle the skittish mare, “what’s yours?”

“Flu–Fluttershy,” she said, retreating back behind her bangs.

“Hey,” Streak said, softly pushing her bangs out of her face. He held them out so that he got a full view of her. “You’re a pretty mare,” he said. “If you hide all the time, then nopony would get to see you.”

“That would be fine with me,” she said slightly louder.

“Ah, but imagine all the poor stallions that wouldn’t have the honor of seeing you?” he asked. “By hiding, you’re stealing from more than just yourself, you’re stealing joy from those around you. Do you want that?”

“N–no,” she said. “I want everypony to be happy.”

Streak gave her a smile. “Then keep that beautiful face out from behind your bangs. It’ll make you and them happier.” He dropped his hoof slowly, returning her bangs to cover half of her face again. “This isn’t you, it’s the you that you choose to show. The real you is beautiful and confidant. All you have to do is let her out.” He turned back to Rarity, returning to the Noble accent as he said, “I’m sorry that I ignored you, m’lady.”

A wide eyed Rarity stuttered out, “Uh, no–no problem. I’ll, uh, just, I don’t know what to say.”

Streak smirked. “It is quite common for ladies of stature to be found quite breathless at my presence,” he said. “Would you wish a companion on the walk to your house?”

“Uh, yes?” she asked, more than said. “Could you drop the accent? I’m not used to dealing with it.”

“Of course,” he said, back in his normal voice. He turned to the bright red Fluttershy. “Your house wouldn’t happen to be on the way or past Miss Rarity’s, would it?”

“Uh,” she said, “it’s on the border of the Everfree past Rarity’s house.”

“Then come with us,” he said. “I can’t let you walk so near the Everfree in good conscience. I hear that there are manticores in there.”

Fluttershy and Rarity giggled at his poor attempt at a joke. “Stick with flattery, darling,” Rarity said. “It works better.”

Streak shrugged. “A stallion can try.”


—*~*~*—


Streak was on his way back from Fluttershy’s house—she was quick to close that door—and had just gotten into town when he saw Rainbow flying uncontrollably across the sky. “—ejaaaaack!” she was shouting as she flew. He traced her velocity back to the source, and discovered a shaky looking Applejack stumbling away from a catapult.

“Hey, Applejack!” he called as he trotted up to her. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” she yawned. “Just don’t take too long. Ah gotta—” she yawned “—gotta get back to harvesting.”

“Let’s talk while we walk,” Streak suggested. As they were walking, he decided to breach the topic with her. “Look, Applejack, about the whole wagon incident—”

“You’ll wanna talk to Big Mac if ya want ta apologize,” she interrupted, yawning. “Ah really got to get back t’ applebuckin’.”

“I’m here to help,” he blurted.

“Help?” she asked. “Ya think Ah need help?”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Applejack, you’re practically passing out on your hooves! You can’t do this by yourself. You need to ask someone to help you.”

“Oh, Ah need to ask someone to help me, do Ah?” she growled. “Ah’m perfectly able to do this by mah own, ah’ve been buckin’ apples since—” she yawned again “—since before ya got yer cutie mark!”

“That could have been yesterday, remember,” he said, glancing back at his blank flank.

“That’s right,” she scoffed. “Yer a blank flank. Ya think ya know so much about apples? Which one o’ us has the apple cutie mark?”

“I know that you can’t keep doing what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re hurting yourself, Applejack!”

“Look, ah don’t need anypony’s help, especially the help of a blank like ya,” Applejack snapped. “Now if ya please, could you let me get back t’ work?”

Streak looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Fine. Whatever. You go do that. Have fun.” He turned around and walked off without a single word or glance back. She did the same.


—*~*~*—


“Ouch, that doesn’t look like it went well,” Berry winced in sympathy as Streak sat down in his unofficially-reserved seat. A couple were sitting to his left, and he ignored them in favor of ordering his drink.

“I’ll take a cider,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like it went well,” she said, filling up his normal water. She placed it in front of him.

“I said cider,” he said after giving it a glance.

“I remember you saying something about only drinking because Change is making you,” she said. “As he’s not bringing you in here, you are obviously not drinking.”

“Just grab me the cider,” he grumbled.

“Look,” Berry said, leaning on the bar in front of him, “I’m not the type of gal to pass up a customer, but I’m also not the type of gal that lets a friend drink because he’s not feeling good. You’re cut off until Change brings you in.”

Streak shrugged, grabbing the glass of water. He looked over at the couple just in time to see the stallion drop something in the mare’s drink while she wasn’t looking. The small white pill dissolved nearly instantly. Streak felt his eyes narrow. The mare turned around and grabbed her drink in her hooves, lifting it up to take a sip. A hoof slammed the cup back on the bar, attracting the attention of the ponies around.

“What was that you put in the lady’s drink?” Streak asked the stallion, his hoof covering the top of the glass.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, colt.” the stallion said as a bead of sweat formed on his brow. “I’m trying to have some drinks with this chick here, and you’re ruining her night.”

The other stallion looked at the mare. “Did you ask him to put something in your drink?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “Did he?”

“No,” the stallion said.

“Yes,” Streak said at the same time.

The mare looked between them for a few seconds before looking to Berry. “Did you see anything?”

“Sorry, lady,” the barmare said, “not a thing. If I were you, though, I’d listen to Streak. He’s not an idiot.”

By this point, half the bar was silent and looking at the four of us. The stallion saw the attention he was getting, and he tried to back out. “Look, if it makes you feel better, just get the chick another drink. I’ll even pay for it.”

“How about you leave my bar after paying your tab?” Berry suggested.

“Look—” the stallion tried to start.

Streak grabbed the front of the stallion’s mane and slammed his face into the bar. “I am not in the mood for dealing with this,” he growled as he pressed the other stallion’s face into the bar. “You will pay Berry what you owe her and leave.”

“And not come back,” Berry added.

The stallion growled, “How about we take this outside?”

“Guys! It’s not even seven,” Berry complained. “Don’t start a fight already!”

"That sounds like a good idea,” Streak growled back, letting the stallion go. “I need to blow off some steam.”

The two stood up from the bar and walked out the door together. They stood right outside the front entrance to the bar, and Streak took the time to actually look at his opponent. He was a fairly large stallion, and all muscle. His coat was a fairly dull brown, and his long tan mane draped over his blue eyes. He had a dumbbell as a cutie mark, which explained his muscles. His face was contorted into a scowl. “I’ll give you one chance to get out of this,” the stallion said, “I won’t even tell them that you backed out.”

“Fat chance,” the blank growled.

The other stallion untied his wallet and dropped it on the ground to keep it from getting in the way. There was a gasp from some pedestrian pony as he lunged suddenly, getting a solid hit on Streak’s nose. Streak grunted as he felt blood run down his face and a headache an order of magnitude bigger than it should have been erupted in his head. He had forgotten that he had that head injury, and now it was coming back to bite him.

The next swing the stallion threw at him was dodged by the quicker Streak, and the much more agile stallion hit both the top of the other stallion’s hoof and the underneath of his elbow, getting a sickening pop. The other stallion dropped to the ground, crying out in pain. Whatever he could have said next was cut off as Streak smacked him on the side of the head, knocking him out. He walked over to the stallion’s wallet, finding it was quite full.

He got another gasp when he walked back in. He walked up to the bar as the crowd parted in front of him. He sat back in his spot and tossed the stallion’s wallet onto the bar. “This should cover that stallion’s tab,” he said.

Berry started counting it without blinking an eye. “This is more than enough,” she said, pushing the wallet back with the rest of the stallion’s money still in it.

He shrugged. “Use it to pay off—” He looked at the mare. “I’m sorry; I never caught your name.”

“I’m Ditsy Doo,” she said. Streak just noticed that her yellow eyes were off-kilter, lending an odd look to her grey face. “Most people just call me Derpy, though, so I don’t mind if you do too.”

He nodded. “Use the rest to pay for Miss Doo’s tab, too. He’s such a gentleman, isn’t he?”

Berry smirked. “Such.” She reached into the bag and pulled out five bits, leaving easily a hundred bits left.

“How much of Change’s tab can this pay for?” Streak asked after taking a sip of his water. It tasted kind of odd, though.

“About a sixth,” she said, “and you’re bleeding in your drink.”

Streak went cross-eyed looking at his nose, before he just looked at his glass. It had a slight tint of red on the top third where his nose had depositing his blood into it. “So I am,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to have a rag, would you?”

“You just got out of that brace, and already you hurt yourself twice,” Berry said, shaking her head as she handed him an extra cleaning rag.

“One of those was me,” Streak said as he placed the rag against his nose. “Fluttershy was nervous around me, so I did the most unthreatening thing I could think about.”

“You head-butted her?” Derpy asked, obviously confused.

“I head-butted the ground,” he said. “And it went right to the ‘I have to take care of this’ area in her brain, and skipped the ‘new pony’ area altogether.”

“You are something else, Streak,” Berry sighed. “Could you try and not get hurt by the next time you’re in here?”

“No promises,” he said, grinning.


—*~*~*—


It had been two days since Streak had confronted Applejack and the stallion—who he had learned was named Dumbbell, appropriately—and he had spent most that time in the bar. He never drank; he either was waiting for or watching over Derpy. He felt a compulsive need to keep her from getting hurt, akin to that an older brother feels for his little sister. She would never drink much, instead stopping by for less than an hour, drinking one or two light drinks, and heading home. During one of her visits, he learned that she had a daughter who was school age, and in learning so, he had learned that Dumbbell wasn’t the first stallion to attempt to roofie the mare. This did nothing but amplify Streak’s need to protect her. Change was back drinking as soon as he could. He immediately went for a whole bottle of vodka, and chugged it within ten seconds. He was obviously a career drinker.

That particular day had started normally enough. There were no fights, no roofie attempts, and no messages carved into the sky by malevolent entities foretelling the events of the day. In fact, it was above average, since just the day before a bunny stampede had destroyed all the plants in the town. That’s why Streak was completely unprepared for the next visitor to the bar.

As Derpy walked out the front door, he heard a familiar voice call out, “Afternoon, Derpy.”

“Hi, Applejack!” the friendly mare said as the mare in question walked into the bar. She looked around the room, finding Streak at his spot at the bar, and a passed-out Change next to him. She walked up to the frowning stallion.

“What do you want?” he rudely asked.

She flinched at his tone. “Look, Ah’m sorry. What Ah said was out of line, and you were right.” She looked down. “Look, what Ah’m trying to say is Ah’m sorry.”

Streak’s eyes softened. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” she exclaimed. “Ah let mah stubborn nature cause problems for the town, and ah hurt you!”

“I’m fine,” he said. “The forehead thing was me, and the nose thing was a thug.”

“Ya know what Ah’m sayin’ “ she grumbled. “Ah was out of line, especially since you just wanted to help me.”

Streak shrugged. “Really, it’s fine. I’m no worse for the wear.”

“You came back and immediately ordered a cider after weeks of water,” Berry interjected herself into the conversation. “Then you picked a fight with that thug you were talking about.”

Streak rolled his eyes. “I picked a fight with him because he tried to roofie Derpy.”

“No, you confronted him because he tried to roofie Derpy,” the barmare said as Applejack’s eyes widened. “You picked a fight with him because you wanted to—and I quote—’blow off some steam.’ ”

“Somepony tried to roofie Derpy?” Applejack exclaimed.

“Streak smashed his face into the bar, dislocated his elbow, and knocked him out,” Berry said, “and after all that, he stole his wallet and used it to pay off tabs. Off the record, of course. If the guard comes by, you don’t know what happened to the wallet.”

“That’s what he gets,” Streak said. “I was having a bad day, and he refused to pay his tab when he was kicked out.”

“There!” Applejack exclaimed. “ ‘Having a bad day’!”

“Fine,” he reluctantly admitted. “It hurt, okay? I’m over it.”

Applejack sat at the bar for a few moments before saying, “Ah talked to Mac.”

“Hmm?” Streak asked.

“Consider yerself hired for the rest of the harvesting season,” she said, causing Streak’s jaw to drop. “You need a job, and ah need a worker. Mac’s already agreed ta show you the ropes. If you do well, you’ll have a seasonal job, here.” Streak was silent for a moment before he was given a hug by the farm-mare, causing him to blush bright red. “Thank ya for tryin’ to get me t’ be less stubborn and for tryin’ to help, Streak”

“D’aww,” a groggy Change said from his position face down on the bar, “he’s so cute when he’s enbara—" He paused, trying again, "Ambere—" He gave up, and just said, "Red.”

> Griffon the Brush Off
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“New rule,” Berry announced to Streak as he sat at the bar. “Don’t tell the griffon we exist.”

“Hello to you, too,” he said as he accepted his usual water. “Who’s the griffon, and why don’t we want her to know we exist?”

“She’s one of Rainbow Dash’s friends—” the barmare began.

“You’ve said enough,” Streak said. “I’ll keep my lips sealed.”

“Y’know, nopony really knows why you two hate each other so much,” she said.

“She’s an egotistical blowhard and I’m blunt and not intimidated by her?” he suggested. “I think she feels threatened by me, to be honest.”

“I find it hard to believe that Rainbow is afraid of anyone,” Berry said.

“I didn’t say afraid, I said threatened,” Streak said. “I don’t conform to the reality she built around herself, therefore I’m a threat.”

“Are you saying she’s crazy?” one of the stallions at the bar asked.

“Delusional,” Streak said. “She can’t seem to distinguish between her fantasy and the reality around her. She tends towards grandeur so far, though.”

“Don’t go calling somepony crazy without a whole lot of evidence,” Berry cautioned. “She could very well be, or—more likely—she isn’t. You might just make her angry.”

The blank scoffed. “I don’t much care if she’s mad at me,” he said. “What’s she going to do besides bluster?”

“She does know a griffon,” the stallion said. “They’re predators, right?”

“If they’re friends, she’s just another Rainbow,” the blank reasoned. “She wouldn’t keep anyone around that doesn’t reinforce her world.”

“Don’t base your entire opinion of her on that one sentence,” the barmare advised. “They very well could be very different ponies.”

“Meh,” Streak said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The doors of the bar were thrown open, and a peeved-looking Pinkie Pie appeared in their place. “We’ve got a party to plan. Berry, we’re going to need punch.”

“Pinkie, I can’t just close down my bar at a moment’s notice,” Berry said. “I have things to do here.”

“Berry, according to section three, article four, clause three-A of our agreement, you are required to supply punch to at least one official Sugarcube Corner function a month,” Pinkie said.

“Section four, article one, clause four-D: if I can’t afford to supply a required Sugarcube Corner function, you are required to compensate me seventy-five percent of market value,” Berry shot back.

“Deal,” Pinkie said. “It’s tonight at nine.”

“Got it,” the barmare said. Nopony saw Pinkie leave, but she did.

Streak articulated everypony’s thoughts. “. . . What?”

“Pinkie’s got agreements with all her suppliers,” Berry explained. “None of it is written down, and we just pull the numbers out of our plots. That’s just how she likes to do business. Says it makes it sound ‘more official’ or something like that.”

“That is very Pinkie Pie,” the other stallion said. Streak realized that he didn’t recognize him, which was odd after four weeks of being in the bar every day.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met yet,” Streak said, sticking his hoof out. “I’m Streak.”

A dark look passed over the other stallion’s face. “I’m Hoops, and I’m a friend of Dumbbell’s.”

“Aw, cr–hey, that could have hurt!” Streak yelled as he dodged the massive pony’s swing. There was a loud thunk followed by some lighter clatters as he slammed his hoof into the bar, causing the bottles and glasses on it to jump and rattle. He was easily the size of Big Mac, and like Dumbbell, he was all muscle.

“Stop moving!” the burly stallion exclaimed as another of his swings was dodged by the stallion. “I said stop!”

“I very much like my face as it is,thank you,” Streak said as he dodged another wild swing from the stallion. “How about we—WOAH!—take this outside—GEEZ!—so we don’t break any of—whoops—any more of Berry’s stuff?”

“How about you stand still!” Hoops growled as he went for another swing.

“Guys!” Berry exclaimed. “Take this outside! You’ve already broken a table!”

“Make that two, Berry,” Streak said over the sound of splintering wood. “Seriously, guy, let’s take this outside!”

“We’re not going to—” the angry stallion started, before being interrupted by a stool being broken over his head. He collapsed to the ground, moaning.

“Berry, get me another drink,” Change said as he tossed the leg he was still holding away. “I’ll be right back with this guy.” He grabbed one of Hoops’s legs and started dragging him out the back door. “Don’t follow me.”

Streak shrugged and decided to follow orders, sitting back down at the bar. “Looks like you’ll be needing something stronger than just your regular water, so what’s your poison?”

Streak paused in contemplation, before answering with a smirk. “Water.”

Berry rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to drink someday.”

“But that day is not today,” he replied.

Outside, Change was in the alley behind the bar about to have a very serious conversation with a dazed Hoops. “Hey, wake up,” he said, smacking the other stallion’s face lightly.

“Guh, wha?” Hoops elegantly stated. 

“Good, you’re awake and semi-functioning. Maybe I rattled something back into place when I broke a stool over your head,” the drunk said. “Now do you know what you did wrong?”

“Ugh, my head,” the stallion groaned.

“Wrong,” Change said. “First, you attacked my friend as a means to defend your rapist friend. Then you refused to take your fight outside the bar and disrespected Berry, who is a mare I respect very much. Finally—your worst offense—you spilled my drink. Because I already knocked you on your plot, I’ll only give you a warning: don’t ever come back to Berry’s bar.” The angry drunk pressed Hoops’s face into the road and snarled, “If I ever see you back here, you’ll wish for death. I’ll personally see to that.”

“You–you’re crazy!” the stallion exclaimed from his position on the ground. “You’re nuts!”

Change laughed out loud. “I am!” he giggled. “It runs in the family! If you think I’m bad, you should see Dad!”

Hoops wiggled out from the drunk’s grip and scooted backwards, eyes wide. “There’s something wrong with you, man! Stay away from me!”

Change’s face became somber immediately. “Stay away from Berry’s bar—better yet, Ponyville—and we won’t have a problem, you understand?.”

Back inside the bar, Streak had gotten himself in a conversation with Berry about Change. “How often does he do that?” he was asking.

“Less often than I’d like, more often than is legal,” she replied. “Whenever he does it, they never seem to come back. It’s one of those unofficial bar rules that if Change tells you to not follow him out back, you don’t follow him out back.”

“Is it like one of those unofficial bar rules that these two seats are reserved?” Streak asked. “So it would be a rule of convenience and tradition?”

“Got it right on the head,” she said. “The first time it happened, we were all to surprised to follow him, and since then, we just listen to him.”

“Back,” Change announced as he sat at the bar. “That’s another plothole that won’t be returning.”

“What do you even do?” Streak asked as Berry hoofed a glass over to the drunk.

“Kid, that’s another one of those unofficial rules. If you can’t be there, you don’t ask,” Berry said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Change said. “I’m not telling, anyway. Suffice to say, I can be persuasive when I need to be.”

“Whatever, man,” Streak said. “I’ll take it, I guess. Another water, Berry, if you would.”

“Comin’ right up, kid,” she replied, moving to refill his glass.

The door slammed open again, and when Streak looked over, Pinkie was standing in the doorway again. She walked over to the bar and sat down to the left of the sober stallion. “Get me a punch, Berry,” she said.

“Pinkie, I have already told you that I don’t serve punch at my bar,” Berry said. “I only make it because you ask.”

“Get her a cider, then,” Streak said, tossing a few bits onto the top of the bar. “My treat.”

“Thanks, Streakie!” Pinkie said, giving him a hug. “Rarity was right about you!”

“Uh, what?” the squashed stallion asked. “What does Rarity say about me?”

“That you’re a gentlecolt and would be great with foals,” she said without skipping a beat. Streak choked on nothing and started coughing. “Are you okay?” Pinkie asked. “Was I holding too tight?”

“Fine,” Streak said between coughs. “No, you were fine. Just. . . what? Where did that come from?”

“Rarity, silly!” Pinkie said. “Don’t you listen?”

“Well, yeah, but—” he started.

“Kid, don’t try,” Berry interrupted. “Logic doesn’t work on her.”

“Thanks, Berry!” Pinkie said. “Oh, I forgot why I came in here!”

“Happens to the best of us,” Change said, holding back chuckles.

“No, I said that because I just remembered!” Pinkie corrected. She turned to Streak. “So, Streakie, could you come to Gilda’s party?”

“Is that the griffon?” he asked.

“Yep yeppy yeppers!” she said.

“Not a chance,” he replied.

“What?” she exclaimed. “Why?”

“Any friend of Rainbow Dash isn’t generally someone I want to associate with,” he said.

Pinkie frowned. “But, Streak, I’m one of Dashie’s friends. So are the other girls. Fluttershy, Rarity, Applejack.”

“Maybe I spoke too fast,” Streak said quickly. “Look,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “how alike are her and Rainbow?”

“Pretty,” Pinkie said. “Gilda is like a meaner Dashie.”

“Then no,” Streak said. “If she’s worse than Rainbow, then I want nothing to do with her.”

“Aw, give ‘er a chance,” Change said. “She can’t be that bad.”

The blank sighed. “Look, if this party goes well and I hear good things about her, then I’ll think about it. As it stands, I’m not going near her with a ten foot pole.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Pinkie said slowly. “Except for to the ten foot pole. Don’t you think it’s tired of always being used to keep ponies you don’t like away from you?”

“I. . . guess?” Streak asked. “I don’t know, I never asked one.”

“Maybe you should,” Change said. “I hear they’re good conversation. Berry, another, uh, anything!”

“If you’re too smashed to even remember what your drink is called, maybe you should stop drinking,” Berry suggested.

“Meh, just get me a scotch, then,” he said.

“That’s what you usually get,” Streak said.

“See? I’m just that good!” the drunk said.

Streak shook his head and turned back to Pinkie. “Like I said–where’s Pinkie?”

“Gone,” Change said. “Left when you weren’t looking.”

“That’s not very polite,” the blank said.

“But very Pinkie,” Berry finished. “At least she took the cider. I trust she’ll return the cup, though.”

“Already did,” the drunk said. “Check your shelf.”

Berry looked back and saw the cup washed, rinsed, dried, and put back into place. “I will never understand that mare, I swear.”

“You aren’t supposed to, I don’t think,” Streak said. He looked at the clock. “It’s nearly eight and Derpy hasn’t visited yet. You think she’s okay?”

“She’s allowed to change her schedule once in a while,” Berry said. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“You’re right, I’m just worried about her,” Streak said. “I guess there’s no reason to be, is there?”

“No. She’s a big girl,” the barmare said, “she can take care of herself.”


—*~*~*—


“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Two hours later, Streak exited the bar. On the walk home, he heard a commotion. He was less than happy at what he saw.

“Geez, what’s wrong with you, dweeb?” an unknown voice asked. He assumed this was Gilda, since the voice was attached to a griffon. A griffon that looked to be threatening a cowering Derpy.

“I said I was sorry,” Derpy whined.

“I don’t care,” Gilda growled. “I’ve been having a bad day, and you have the misfortune of being my punching bag, dweeb.”

“Hey!” Streak yelled. “What’s going on here?”

“Back off,” the griffon said. “This is none of your business.”

“I think it’s a lot of my business,” he said. “That’s my friend there, and I won’t just walk away. So I ask again, what’s going on?”

“All you ponies are so lame,” she whined. “Can’t I do anything without somepony getting on my case?”

“If you’re anywhere near Rainbow levels of plothole, no,” he said. “I ask one last time, what’s going on?”

“I ran into her while flying,” Derpy said, hanging her head. “I just don’t know what went wrong.”

“Wait, you aren’t one of Rainbow’s lame-o friends?” Gilda asked. She backed away from the grey mare, heading over to Streak. She held out a fist. “Name’s Gilda.”

Streak ignored her offered hoofbump. “I’m not a fan of bullies, Gilda. Why don’t you explain why Miss Doo bumping into you necessitated this reaction?”

“Look, I’m not having a good day,” Gilda said, dropping her claw back to the ground. “First the lame pink pony comes and wrecks my visit with Dash, then Dash throws me off for her lame pony friends, then this ditz tries to tackle me out of the air. Of course I’m going to be upset.”

Streak looked at her with an unreadable expression. “The last time I caught someone messing with Derpy, I dislocated his elbow and knocked him out,” he said levelly. “I suggest you skip town before I get mad.”

Gilda scoffed, “Whatever, dweeb. You’re just like Rainbow.”

She didn’t even get to spread her wings before a grey hoof slammed into her face, snapping her head to the left. “Don’t you even say that,” Streak hissed. “She’s a self-centered, self absorbed plothole. I am nothing like her.”

Gilda looked at him sideways. “You have some issues, dude,” she finally said. “I’m out, before you flip-flop again.”

As Gilda took off, Streak walked up to the still-cowering mare. “Are you okay, Derpy?” he asked.

“F–fine,” she said, standing up on shaky hooves. “I can’t believe that she was friends with Rainbow Dash.”

“I can,” Streak said, “though most ponies don’t have quite as strong an opinion about her as I do.”

“She’s not as bad as you think she is,” Derpy said.

“So I hear,” he replied. “You want me to walk you home?”

“That would be nice,” she said. “I should stop flying as much as I do, though. These dumb eyes ruin everything.”

“Hey, don’t be down on yourself,” he said. “You are you, nopony can change that. Embrace it. Those eyes aren’t going to change just because you want them to, you have to change your view of them before they stop bothering you.”

She gave him a demure smile. “Thanks, Streak.”

“No problem, just lead the way,” he said, returning the smile. He didn’t notice, but she was slightly red the whole walk back.

“Come in, come in,” Derpy said as they arrived at her house.

“I couldn’t,” Streak said. “It’s late and—”

“I’ll introduce you to Dinky,” she said, ignoring his protests and dragging him to the door. She let go and knocked on the door as she walked in. “Dinky! We have a visitor!”

Streak sighed, not being given a choice in the matter. He walked in to see a filly who looked like a slightly darker, slightly purpler, a lot younger Derpy. ”Hi, mister!” she said.

“Dinky, this is Streak,” Derpy said. “He’s the one that helped me at Berry’s.”

The filly’s eyes lit up. “Oh,” she said, “this is the stallion you haven’t stopped talking about nonstop for the past week?”

Derpy lit up bright red. “Uh, I think it’s your bedtime, muffin.”

Dinky groaned. “Mom, it’s only ten.”

“Listen to your mother, Dinky. it’s a school day tomorrow,” Streak said.

“Aww,” the filly whined. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, muffin,” the mare said. “Go now, you can talk with Streak some other time.” The filly kicked the ground lightly before heading upstairs, mumbling under her breath the whole time. Derpy turned back to Streak. “Heh, fillies say the darndest things, don’t they?”

Streak smiled at her. “Of course they do,” he said. “They don’t quite know how to engage a filter between their brain and mouth yet.”

Derpy’s blush had faded to a dull red that just barely dusted her cheeks. “Hey, I never thanked you for sticking up for me at the bar, and now I owe you again.”

“You don’t owe me at all, Derpy,” Streak said, waving a hoof dismissively. “I only did what any pony should have done.”

“Ugh,” Derpy groaned, slapping a hoof onto her face, “modesty. Streak, what any pony should do and what they actually do are two different things. It would have been easier to let him get away with spiking my drink and walking away when Gilda confronted me, but you didn’t. You did the right thing.”

“I can’t just. . . not help if I can,” Streak said. “It’s not anything special, it’s just the right thing.”

“That’s what makes it special,” Derpy said, flushing and giving him a small nuzzle. “You do the right thing, because you can’t stand not to. That’s what makes you different.”

“Eww!” Dinky said from the top of the stairs, making a face. “You’re going to kiss aren’t you?”

“Wha–no I wasn–Dinky!” Derpy sputtered, immediately becoming apple-red. “I told you to go to bed!”

“Dinky,” Streak said sternly, “listen to your mother. She only wants the best for you.”

“Fine,” the filly said, rolling her eyes. “But if you two do end up kissing, do it away from me.”

“Noted,” Streak commented, making Derpy lock up momentarily in surprise. As soon as the filly was gone, he said to Derpy, “I should get going. Thank you for your hospitality, and you have a beautiful daughter.”

“I think so, too,” the mare said, walking with him to the door and opening it for him.

“Takes after her mother,” Streak said as he left, making Derpy stop breathing. “Good night, Derpy!”

Two minutes later, Derpy was able to move again. She closed the door and rested her forehead on the inside of it. “Good night, Streak,” she whispered to herself.
> Boast Busters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Streak sat down at his usual spot next to the obviously-drunk Change. “So I assume we’re not telling the showpony we’re here?” he asked.

“Don’t see why not,” Berry said. “She’s got bits, and she seems like a decent sort. Not quite modest, but she doesn’t seem like Gilda.”

“Alright,” he said.

“Were you at her show?” Derpy asked, walking up to the trio.

“I can’t say I was,” he replied. “Was it good?”

“It started off pretty average, actually,” she said. “Twilight is much better than she is, but Trixie is fairly talented. Then she opened challenges.”

“Basically an ‘anything you can do, I can do better’ thing?” Berry asked.

“Exactly so,” Derpy said, nodding. “Rainbow, Applejack, and Rarity all tried, but she made fools of all three of them.”

Streak’s face contorted into a scowl. Change spoke up, “Woah, tiger. Don’t you go confronting this Trixie gal for embarrassing your marefriend.” Derpy stopped breathing.

“She’s not my marefriend,” Streak muttered, setting his chin on the bar and flushing lightly. The mare let out a sigh of relief.

“Streak, you have a massive crush on her,” Berry said, making Derpy’s face fall. A fact not lost on the drunk.

“Do not!” Streak exclaimed, becoming bright red.

“Hey, Derpy,” Change said. “Let’s talk out back.”

“O. . . kay?” she said hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, it’s not one of those ‘out back’s,” he said. “I just want to talk in private.”

“You’ll be fine, Derpy,” Streak said when she hesitated. “He won’t do anything to you, he’s better than that.”

She stood up and walked out the back door with Change. He opened immediately with, “You like Streak.”

“Of course, we’re friends,” she said, faking dumb.

“No, you have a crush on him,” the drunk said. She opened her mouth to reply. “Don’t try and deny it, Derpy. You do, and if anypony looks, they’ll see it.”

“Okay, fine,” she grumbled. “I do. He’s a nice stallion. He’s polite, kind, and knows just how to talk with ponies. He even got a positive opinion out of Fluttershy that wasn’t ‘He’s nice.’ “

“He’s also clueless,” the stallion said. “Give him some time, and he’ll see that you like him.”

“Should I even listen to you?” she asked. “You’re drunk.”

“So I am,” Change replied. “I’m also living with him. Trust me when I say that I know he’ll like you. You just have to give it some time. He waits for you and watches to make sure you’re okay every day. You’re already part of the way there.”

“Alright,” she said. “I just wish it would be now.”

“We all do, Derpy, we all do.”

Inside the bar, Streak was having a serious conversation with Berry. “So I hear you’ve made quite the impression around town, Streak,” she was saying.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“With the mares, I mean,” she said, smirking.

“Please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The biggest impression I left was on the road with my face. I’m pretty sure ninety-nine percent of the town doesn’t even know I exist.”

“But you have impressed that one percent,” she said. “I’ve heard ponies talking about how Rarity, Fluttershy, and Derpy never seem to stop talking about your latest misadventure. Half the ponies in the bar right now have told me about you headbutting the road, and only about four of them heard it from Rainbow making fun of you.”

“Good to see I’ve made such a positive impression,” he deadpanned. “I think anypony would be noticed for smacking their face into the ground on purpose.”

“I think you’re missing the point of what I’m trying to tell you,” Berry deadpanned right back.

“Enlighten me, then,” Streak said.

“If you don’t get it, I’m not telling you,” she said. “You’ll just have to learn it for yourself. I swear you can be so clueless, at times.”

“You aren’t seriously making fun of me for not understanding then not telling me, are you?” he asked. “That hardly seems fair.”

“That’s life,” the barmare said. “You have to open your eyes eventually, Streak. When you do, you’ll thank me for not forcing them open for you.”

“Whatever,” Streak grumbled. He looked at the clock. Ten o’clock. “Bout time for me to get going,” he said, hopping off the stool. “Watch Derpy for me, would you? It’s unusual for her to be in here so late.”

“Alright,” Berry sighed. “See you later, blind boy.”

Streak scoffed as he left the bar. What was Berry talking about, back there? Maybe he’d ask Rarity tomorrow, she knew about stuff like this, right?

His musing was interrupted by the ground shaking. “I swear to Celestia,” he groaned, forgetting what he was thinking, “if this is another creature straight out of the Everfree. . . .” He turned to see a monster straight out of a bunny’s nightmares. A translucent blue bear the size of a house was chasing two of the local foals screaming down the road. “I’m just going to head to bed,” he muttered as he turned to follow the duo.

“Hey guys, where ya goin’?” he heard Spike ask.

“Can't talk now,” one of the foals said.

“Got a major problem!” the other one finished.

“Yeah, ursa major, to be exact,” the first foal said.

“Huh?” Spike asked. The ursa took this moment to make itself known by roaring.

“Trixie!” the foals yelled in unison, running farther into town.

“Twilight!” Spike yelled, running in the other direction, straight towards Twilight’s library.

“Those foals, I swear,” Streak said, rolling his eyes. “This can only end well. I’ll ask about it in the morning.” With another roar, the ursa erased any thoughts of ignoring today’s chaos by mauling the roof of Derpy’s house. “Dinky!” he exclaimed. Without conscious thought, Streak’s legs started running.

When he arrived, he ignored the showmare’s pitiful attempts to contain the ursa, knowing Twilight was on her way. He instead ran through the unlocked door to the grey mare’s house. He took the stairs three at a time in his haste to get upstairs. He sighed in relief when he saw a confused—but unharmed—Dinky looking at a gaping hole in her roof. “You’re okay,” he said.

“Fine,” she said. “I was downstairs waiting for Mom when I felt shaking and heard. . . well, this.”

The ground was littered with debris and dusted with hay from the demolished roof. The remnants of what was most likely a bed sat under a large beam of wood that used to be the peak of the roof. “That could have been bad,” Streak said. “Whose bed was that?”

“Mine,” she said. “Good thing I wasn’t in it, right?”

“Very good thing,” the older blank said, stunned. “I can think of many ponies who would be unhappy that you were in there, not the least of all your mother.”

“Good thing she’s been out later and later,” Dinky mumbled. “At least something good came of it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“She used to be home every day by seven, but now she’s regularly out to eight, and some days—like today—she’s out ‘til ten.”

“I’ll talk with her,” Streak promised. 

She shuffled her hooves nervously before saying, “Could you talk to her about maybe starting work later so she can walk me to school?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll do her best.”

That got a smile out of the filly. “Thanks, Mister Streak!” she exclaimed.

“We’re friends, Dinky,” he said, chuckling. “You can drop the ‘mister’ stuff.”

“Okay, Streak,” she said, smile widening.

“Come on, Dinky,” he said. “Let’s go see your mom.”

“But isn’t she at the bar?” she asked. “Isn’t the bar reserved for older ponies?”

“I think Berry will make an exception for you this time,” he said. “She’s cool like that.” The duo walked back in companionable silence, except for a break for Dinky to giggle at how ridiculous Spike looked with a mustache.

“Silly Spike,” she said through her giggles as they walked away from the baby dragon. “Dragons don’t have mustaches.”


—*~*~*—


"Today is the day!" Change exclaimed as Streak walked into the bar.

". . . What day?" the confused Streak asked. "Did I miss somepony's birthday?"

"Nope," the drunk said. "Today is the day you finally drink."

Streak gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine," he said, "just be warned that I've been told that I'm not a fun drunk."

"When did you drink?" Berry asked. "You've been holding out on me, kid."

"Years ago, back during my school days," he said with a dismissive wave of his hoof.

"A partier, eh?" Change asked. "This will be more fun than I thought we would."

"I haven't drunk in five years," the blank said. "I'm not going to last long."

"Long enough," Berry said. "Change had a bright idea, and I'm not sure that the bar will survive."

The drunk waved a hoof in a clearly dismissive manner. "Just put the repairs on my tab."

"What was the idea?" Streak asked. Before somepony could reply, the door opened.

"PAR-TAY!" Pinkie yelled, walking into the bar.

"You didn't," Streak said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Pinkie said you wanted to see us?" Twilight asked as she walked in.

"You did," Streak deadpanned.

"I hope there arent too many. . . Eep!" Fluttershy locked up as she entered the room.

"You really did," Streak deadpanned again.

"Fluttershy, darling," Rarity said, pushing Fluttershy fully into the bar and entering herself, "you can't just stop in the middle of the doorway with ponies behind you."

"I can't believe you," the blank said, turning to the drunk and the barmare. "How did you think this was a good idea?"

"Ah hear there's a stallion in need of being shown the ropes," Applejack commented as she stepped through the doorway.

"We can always give it a try, though," he added quickly, much to the amusement of the duo next to him.

"I was promised drinks," an all too familiar voice said as the pony it was attached to walked into the bar at the back of the group.

At the sight of Rainbow Dash, Streak stood up and wordlessly started to walk for the back door. He was stopped by a teal glow around his exit, blocking his exit. He turned around to see Change glaring at him. "I worked hard to get her to show up with you here, so you are staying. You don’t have to like her, but you have to tolerate her for one night. You owe me."

There was a tense pause as the ponies around the two held their breaths. “Fine,” the blank huffed, causing a collective sigh of relief to wash over the ponies in the immediate area. “Don’t expect me to like it.”

“I don’t, I expect you to deal with it,” the drunk said. “Now sit down, grab a real drink, and at least pretend to have fun, alright?”

“Do more than pretend!” Pinkie bounced up. “Actually do!”

“I’ll try,” Streak said. “I’ve never really had fun drinking, though.”

“ ‘Cause you haven’t done it with me,” Change said, smirking. “Now sit at your seat. Berry, we’ll start him off with something easy, like rum.”

“Change, my rum is seventy proof,” the barmare said, shaking her head. “He’ll get smashed instantly. I’ll just get him a cider, start him with baby steps.”

The drunk scoffed as the two stallions sat down at the bar. “Amateurs.”

“Seventy proof?” Streak asked. “Geez, we didn’t touch alcohol unless it was at least eighty. Waste of bits, we said.”

“Are you a recovering alcoholic?” Pinkie asked suddenly.

“No?” he said hesitantly. “Why?”

“We’ll just give the kid some cider, and see how well he handles it,” Berry interrupted before Pinkie could answer. “It’s better than starting with vodka, like Change is fond of.” She whirled on the drunk. “Vodka is made to be mixed, so it’s tasteless. A fact he seems all too happy to forget.”

“This is going to be an interesting night,” Twilight said. “I don’t think most of us have drank before.”

Fluttershy just whimpered.


—*~*~*—


Streak woke up to feel something pressed into his chest. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted his decision. He hissed as the light scorched his sensitive retinas, slamming his eyelids closed and whipping up his right foreleg to further stymie the brutal sunlight’s attempts at breaching his eyelids.

Wait, sunlight?

He hissed as he again opened his eyes, having to force himself to keep his eyes open to look around. Whispy clouds drifting across the sky met him on that morning, and beyond the bright ball of death beating him down with waves of agony from behind the clouds, there was nothing else to see.

A light moan and an increase to the pressure in his side brought his attention down away from the agonizing ball of fire hanging above him to the relatively painless surroundings. When he looked down at what was pressed into his right side, if it weren’t for the skull-shattering headache he was experiencing, he would have lost it.

A cyan pegasus was snuggled against his side, and the shift in pressure was her snuggling closer to him in her sleep. Her prismatic hair was spread across his chest as far as it could get at the length she kept it at, and she was using his chest as a pillow.

In a moment of horror, he realized that she was on his right side, therefore he had to be cuddling her back—at least a little—to be able to move his right foreleg.

He swiftly extracted himself by means of shoving the mare away. She slid just far enough for the blank to escape her grasping hooves, seeking the comfortable warmness that was her Streak pillow.

He shivered and repressed the bile he felt rise in his throat—not completely caused by his hangover—as he got up on his shaky hooves as quickly as he could. He had to stop himself after his first staggering step when he realized that he was standing on a massive building-sized pile of hay.

He looked around in confusion. Where was there a pile of hay this large? Who had decided to make a pile of hay this large in the middle of Ponyville overnight? He was even with the tops of the houses around him, for Celestia’s sake! Wait.

He took a shaky step forward down the slope. The slope that way to even to be any pile of hay. Within seconds, he saw a drop straight down where the hay ended. He had ended up on a roof cuddling with Rainbow Dash. He was never drinking again.

“How do I get down without hurting myself?” he mused silently out loud, wincing as a nearby bird decided it needed to make some noise. He heard Rainbow start stirring behind him. She groaned as she opened her eyes and rolled over, shoving her face into the hay. “How do I get down fast without hurting myself too much?” he amended.

“Not so loud,” her muffled groan called out. “I feel like I had a Pinkie party in my head last night.”

“It could very well have been,” Streak muttered, closing his eyes and laying down.

There was a pregnant pause before she asked, “Streak?”

“Yep,” he said.

She pulled her head out of the hay. “Where in Ponyville is there a hay pile?” she asked.

“On the tops of houses,” he replied. “That’s where we are.”

“What happened last night?” she asked.

“I don’t even want to know,” the blank groaned. “I just want to get off this roof and forget last night even happened.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “I won’t speak of it if you don’t.”

“Deal,” he said, opening his eyes and extending his hoof at her as far as he could reach. She stretched and bumped his hoof with her own. “Now how do we get down?”

“I have wings,” she said. “When I can move without feeling like I got tackled by a griffon hoofball player I’ll just fly us down.”

“That works, I guess,” he muttered.

After a few minutes, Rainbow spoke up, “Hey, Streak?”

“Can you fly us down?” he asked bluntly.

“No, but—” she started.

“Then I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “I don’t like you, you don’t like me. The only way we’re both getting off the roof alive is if we don’t talk.”

“I was going to thank you for not talking about this, but now I might just leave you up here on your own,” she grumbled.

“I’m doing this for me, just as I assume you’re doing this for you. If I wouldn’t be mixed in with you in every rumor for the next few weeks, I would be telling this as soon as I got down,” the blank said.

Rainbow snorted, “I was pretending to be nice.”

“It works better when your target doesn’t hate you,” he said. “And vice versa.”

“You make a good point,” she said. After a few minutes, she spoke up, “I think I’m ready. You feeling better?”

“No,” Streak said.

“Good,” she said, grinning maliciously. She launched herself through the air and tackled him off the roof. During freefall, his head was filled with many scenarios where he strangled Rainbow when they got down. Right as he was about to impact the ground, he felt himself jerk upwards. He was twirled through the air, causing his bile to rise again, before being planted onto the ground hoof-first.

“Don’t do that again,” he growled at the giggling flier.

“If I ever have the opportunity, I most definitely will,” she replied. “Smell you later!”

Streak shook his head as she took off, choosing to just drop it. He walked through town slowly and with deliberate steps, careful not to exacerbate his headache any more than he had to. He got some odd stares, but otherwise his trip was ordinary.

“Have fun last night?” Change asked, smirking, as the younger stallion walked into their shared house.

“Shut up,” he groaned. “Headache.”

“How much do you remember from last night?” the drunk asked.

“Fluttershy whimpering,” the blank replied honestly. “Beyond that, I got nothing.” A moment of silence passed between the two stallions before Streak clarified. “Before we started drinking.”

“Just making sure,” Change said.

“Bull,” the younger stallion said.

“Applejack wouldn’t tolerate that language,” the drunk said.

Streak flushed bright red. “Applejack isn’t here,” he said.

“And what misfortune that is,” Change chuckled grabbing a bottle with his magic. “I’ll be in my room drunk when Berry comes by to pick me up.”

Streak cocked an eyebrow. “You going on a date?”

“For work,” the drunk deadpanned. “She’s picking me up for work.”

“Sure,” the blank said, “I believe you.”

“Seriously,” the drunk said.

“Seriously,” Streak replied.

“You seriously don’t remember last night?” Change asked.

“Nope,” the other stallion replied.

“At all?” the drunk asked.

“Not a bit,” Streak clarified.

“Good,” Change said, grinning maliciously. “I won’t tell you which pony you were making out with, then.”

“I was what?” Streak said more than asked.

“Making out with a pony,” Change said. “We were all smashed at that point, so you might have gotten lucky and nopony but me remembers it. Most likely one of the girls remembers, and you’re in for a fun few weeks.”

“Great,” the blank sighed, laying down on the couch and stretching. “Can it get any worse?”

“You left the bar with Rainbow,” the older stallion piped up. “Where did you end up, anyway?”

“Not talking about it,” Streak said.

> Bridle Gossip
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Streak woke up in a good mood. He had the feeling it was going to be a good day today. He hummed as he showered, something he hadn’t done since. . . years ago. His mood unsullied by his reminiscing, he stepped out of the shower. He yelped when he came face-to-face with a white pony.

“Stay inside today,” he said before walking out of the bathroom.

There was a pause before Streak asked, “What?” He got no response, so he walked, soaking wet, out of the bathroom to track down the drunkard. He found him in the next room—drinking, of course—and decided to repeat his question. “What? Why?”

The drunk pointed out a window, where a cloaked pony was observable. She was standing in a strangely abandoned street with no living creature visible around her. “That’s why.”

The cloaked pony removed her hood, revealing her exotic appearance. She was a light grey, with darker stripes along her coat and mane, which was done up in a mohawk. She had sharper features, and eyes that were shaped much more angularly than regular pony eyes. She had bands of gold around various parts of her body.

Streak was nearly struck speechless. “We’re staying inside because of. . . a zebra?”

“Yes,” Change replied. “Trust me, you want to stay inside.”

“Why?” the blank asked. “I’ve seen zebras before. They’re rare, and it doesn’t surprise me that Ponyville hasn’t seen one yet, but why are we avoiding her?”

“Because you become a pariah if you associate with her,” the drunk replied. “Just wait for her to leave and forget about it.”

“Forget about it?” Streak exclaimed. “Why would we forget about it? She’s been unjustly outcast because of what she is!”

“It will work out,” Change said cryptically, taking another swig of his bottle. “Trust me. When have I been wrong?” Streak opened his mouth, expecting an easy rebuttal, but found himself struck dumb. There was not one occasion he could think of that the drunk was wrong. Not one. “Just stay inside for the next hour or so, then she’ll have left. After that, you can go along your normal day if you wish.”

“My normal day is hanging out at the bar,” Streak said. “I’m just going to head out the back door and meet you there.”

“I advise against it, but do whatever. I’m a drunk, not a guard,” Change said.

“The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem,” Streak teased.

“I said ‘drunk’, not ‘alcoholic’. Alcoholics go to meetings,” Change said in rebuttal. “Just go and hang out at the bar before opening hours, like you always do.”

With the streets empty, travel was faster, even if it was eerily quiet. He pushed open the door to the bar. “Afternoon, Berry!” he called out.

“Are you crazy?” the mare exclaimed, pulling him away from the door. There was a loud bang as the door slammed shut. “She might see you!”

“Is there some reason we’re afraid of her besides the fact that she looks funny?” Streak asked.

“Pinkie says she’s evil!” Berry said quietly. “If she catches you, she puts you under her spell, and you become her slave until she gets hungry. Then she cooks you up and eats you!”

Streak deadpanned at her. “Zebras eat fruits and vegetables, same as ponies.”

“Would Pinkie lie?” she asked.

“She could be misinformed,” he replied. “I’ve known zebras, Berry. I went drinking with one back in the day. It frustrated my parents to no end, but I wasn’t enspelled or eaten. In fact, he held less liquor than I did and always made a fool of himself at parties. What I’m saying is that she’s just a funny-looking pony.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said. “I guess you’re here for your water?”

“I come here every day, and every day you ask that question,” Streak said. “Yes, I’m here for water. I’m also here for conversation and company.”

“You might not get as much of the latter two as usual,” Berry cautioned. “My parents dropped of my little sister earlier today. She’s not feeling well, and they need to travel for work.”

“You have a little sister?” the blank asked, shocked.

“Why does that surprise you?” she asked.

“Because I’ve been coming here for two months and you haven’t mentioned her,” he said. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“You don’t talk about your family!” she snapped. “Neither does Change. Why is it some kind of deal that I don’t, either?”

Streak held his hooves up defensively. “It’s not, it’s not!” he said quickly. “Geez, Berry, what’s gotten into you? Bite my head off, why don’t ya?”

She rested her head on her hooves, leaning on the bar. “Sorry, kid. I’m just stressed. Poor Ruby is sick, and here I am setting up the bar. What kind of sister am I?”

“A sister with a job,” he replied. “You can’t be there constantly, but you can try your best.”

“It’s just that she’s caught some kind of stomach bug,” the barmare said. “She’s miserable, and every second I spend out here is another second she’s alone.”

Streak was silent for a moment before saying, “What if I look after her for you while you work?”

“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you,” Berry said.

“I insist. You say she’s miserable and alone, and this would make her feel better,” the blank said.

“Applejack said something about coming to the bar for the next few days,” she said.

Streak’s face clearly showed the conflict inside his brain right then. After a minute, he sighed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, causing Berry’s jaw to drop. “She’s sick and needs somepony to be there. What kind of pony am I if I abandon her just to hang with my friends?”

“With your crush, you mean,” Berry teased. “But really, you don’t have to.”

“But I will anyway,” he said, slightly red. “Just show me where she is, and I’ll do my best to keep her in at least the condition you hoof her over in.”

Berry gave him a thankful smile. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“With how hard you tried to convince me not to do it, I find that hard to believe,” he teased. “It’s no problem. I’m unemployed, remember? I have literally no responsibilities right now.”

“You watch after Derpy when she shows up,” she reminded him. “That’s a pretty big responsibility.

“She’s a grown mare,” he said. “She can handle a few days without adult supervision.”

“Thanks, kid,” she said.

“No problem. Now where is the little rascal?” he asked.

“She’s upstairs,” the barmare replied. “Third door to your right.”

Within a minute, Streak was upstairs and opening the door he was directed to. “You aren’t Berry,” a foal groggily moaned as he walked into the room.

“No, I’m not,” he said. “My name’s Streak, and I’m here to help you feel better.”

“You aren’t a doctor,” the foal—Streak assumed this was Ruby—groaned. “Are you a mortician, then? Am I going to die?”

“You’re going to be fine, it’s just a bug that’s going around,” he said. “I’m a friend of Berry’s. She was all torn up about not being able to be here for you, so I came in her stead.”

“Better than nothing,” she groaned.

“You really know how to make a stallion’s ego inflate,” he teased. “You need anything?”

“A bucket,” she gasped out. “Fast.”


—*~*~*—


“How did it go?” Berry asked when Streak came downstairs. There were no more customers in the bar, having closed a half hour ago, and she was just finishing cleaning everything with a drunken Change, who looked like he had passed out at some point during the job.

He sighed in exhaustion. “I didn’t know it was possible for such a little body to have so much in it,” he said. “She’s feeling much better. Whatever it was must have been expelled with the last few hurls.”

“That’s good to hear,” she replied. “I’m keeping her home from school again, just in case, though. If she’s not feeling well tomorrow, are you okay with doing this again?”

“Of course,” he said. “Anything for a friend.”

“Be careful saying that,” the barmare replied. “You might end up making out with one of them while drunk.”

“Berry!” he exclaimed, turning beet-red. “That was weeks ago! Why are you still bringing this up?”

“Because it’s fun?” she asked. “Maybe next time, you should drink in more moderation.”

“After all the teasing for not getting drunk, you now tease me for getting drunk once,” he groaned. “Can I not win?”

“Nope," she teased.

"Will you at least tell me who it was?" he asked.

"Nope," she said. "You could try asking them, though."

"Not a chance," he said. "I'd rather not know."

"To each his own," she said, shrugging. "That'll be the fastest way to learn, though."

"Then I shall remain in the dark," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow at the regular time, right?"

"Of course," the barmare said. "Have a good night. I'll deal with this useless drunk so you don't have to."

"Thanks Berry," Streak said, heading for the door. "Are you sure you don't need me anymore right now?"

"Go, before I think you're flirting," she said with an exaggerated wink.

Streak chuckled and left, collapsing on the floor in a deep sleep the instant he got home. He remained there for the rest of the night, awakening only after the sun rise the next morning.

He stood up and stretched, groaning in satisfaction as his back popped down its entire length. A quick shower later, he was revealed to have gotten up at eight, a full four hours earlier than was normal for him. This revealed something else to him; he had absolutely no idea what to do if he wasn't at the bar.

“I guess I should get to know the girls better,” he mused to himself. “I’ve lived here for two months and I don’t even know what they all do.” With that, it was a quick jaunt to the market, where he was most likely to find somepony that knew where he could find one of his friends.

“Well, Applejack’s in the big farm just outside of town. You won’t miss it,” the first mare he asked said. “Rarity owns Carousel Boutique, which is just down the street. Pinkie lives above Sugarcube Corner. I assume you know where that is. Fluttershy lives by the Everfree Forest, for whatever reason. Twilight lives in the library. Rainbow Dash lives in the giant house made of clouds.”

“Of course she does,” Streak sighed. “Can’t have a normal house. No, that wouldn’t be ‘cool’ enough for Rainbow Dash.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?” the mare asked.

“Not one bit, and the feeling is mutual,” he said. “We avoid each other so we don’t come to blows.”

“Well if you run into her on the street, try and avoid attacking each other,” she said, shaking her head.

“We won’t,” he said. “It’s way before she gets up on any given day.”

"I actually saw her earlier," the mare said. "She was headed into the Everfree to confront Zecora about her evil curses!"

The stallion gave a long-suffering sigh. "She doesn't use curses. There are no such things as curses."

"Then why were her wings switched?" she asked.

"Karma?" Streak suggested. “Maybe Twilight got tired of her constant bragging?”

“Twilight’s horn was coated in blue spots and all floppy,” the mare said. “She couldn’t use it.”

The stallion planted his hoof firmly onto his face. “Poison joke. Of course.”

“Poison joke?” she asked. “What is that?”

“You’ll learn soon enough, most likely,” he said. “I’m just going to take a nap this morning.”

True to his words, he returned home and laid down for an hour. After that hour, he headed back into town. Because the day had been going too well for him so far, the first pony he ran into—literally—was Rainbow Dash.

“Watch it,” she growled as she picked herself up off the ground.

The two glared at each other as they slowly walked apart. Streak snorted and looked forward, saying, “Braggart.”

“What did you say?” she asked.

He stopped walking and turned around. “I said braggart. Blowhard, boaster, gasbag, showoff, hotshot." He took a step towards the mare with every word, ending up mere inches from her at the end. "If you don’t know, that’s a noun. It means a person who boasts about achievements or possessions. I think that applies to you fairly well. I figured that even you would know basic Equestrian.”

“Are you calling me stupid?” she growled, stepping towards him.

“I’m insinuating a lack of basic intelligence,” he said, poking her in the nose. “If you don’t know, that means ‘yes’.”


—*~*~*—


“I can’t believe you got us arrested,” a bruised Streak complained from his shared cell.

“Shut up,” an equally-injured Rainbow answered from her position sitting next to him. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault?” he exclaimed. “Which of us decided to start a hoof-fight in the middle of the street in the broad daylight?”

“You pushed me to it,” she replied, tilting her head upwards indignantly.

“You have got to be kidding me,” the blank groaned. “You are seriously blaming me for this.”

“I thought that was obvious when I said it was your fault,” she said, frowning. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“Don’t you start this with me,” Streak growled. “I am not in the mood for this.”

“And I am?” she exclaimed. “Do you think I enjoy being locked up? Do you think I go out of my way to get arrested for the smallest things?”

After her outburst, the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, glaring at each other. Eventually Streak spoke up, “Why did they put us both in the same cell if we’re in jail for fighting each other?”

“Easier to clean?” she suggested. “That’s beside the point, though. We’re in jail.”

“Whatever,” he said in a tone implying that the conversation was over.

About an hour of silence later, a guard walked up to their cell. “Alright, we’re taking you one at a time for questioning. Don’t lie, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m first,” Streak jumped in, standing up.

“Excuse me?” Rainbow growled.

“Alright then, colt. Come with me.” There was a clicking noise as the guard inserted a key into the lock and turned the key. As soon as Streak was out of the cell, it was closed and relocked. The blank followed the guard to a small table. After sitting, the guard indicated that he should sit down, as well. “Okay, so you know why we’re doing this, right?”

“Because I attacked Rainbow Dash in the middle of a street?” Streak asked.

The guard cocked an eyebrow. “All witnesses say that she attacked you first. Are you saying that they are all lying?”

“Mistaken,” the blank said, “not lying. She swung first, but I purposely pushed her to it. Verbal assault.”

“She’s still guilty,” the guard said, sighing. “Look, all you would get for this would be a few days in jail—a week, tops—and some hours of community service, since both of your records are spotless.”

“Alright, tell me when my hours are,” Streak said.

“You aren’t seriously taking the blame for this, are you?” the guard asked. “I thought there was no love lost between you two.”

Streak snorted. “There isn’t. I am as close to hating her as I have ever gotten with any creature, ever. However, she has a job and makes herself useful. She does something for the community. I. . . don’t. Heck, I don’t even have a cutie mark.”

“So you’re saying that you’re going to take the fall for this, leaving Rainbow’s record spotless and staining yours, all because you don’t have a job?” the guard said.

“Yeah, pretty much,” the blank said. “There is also an element of angering parents in there somewhere, but the main reason is because I’m useless right now. I can afford this, she can’t.”

“You are a better stallion than I am,” the guard said, shaking his head. He held out a hoof. “Name’s Star Shield. Call me Shield. If you ever call me Star, I’ll find some reason to arrest you.”

“Streak,” the such-named stallion said, bumping Shield’s hoof with his own, a genuine smile on his face.

“Alright, now all that’s left is informing Rainbow that all charges are dropped, and we move on, right?” Shield said, grinning.

“Then we move onto getting me a cell, right?” Streak asked. “I don’t want to waste time.”

“No, not just her charges,” the guard said. “I’m not charging anypony today. It was a misunderstanding, obviously. Both of you thought the other were attacking, and it was a once-in-a-lifetime double self-defense case. Have a great day.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Streak said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are really doing this, aren’t you?”

“Look, you’re willing to take the flack for Rainbow, a mare you claim to hate, all because it would inconvenience her more than you. This is not the kind of stallion we want behind bars,” Shield said, “so I’m letting you go.”

"You are serious," Streak said.

"I am," Shield said. "On a completely unrelated note, have you ever thought of joining the guard?"

". . . Don't you like to have guardsponies that can fight?" Streak asked.

"You dislocated a stallion's leg and evaded another stallion's best attempts at striking you," the guard said. "Besides, I can teach you how to be a guard. That attitude you just showed? That can't be taught."

"Does the lack of a cutie mark not bother you?" Streak asked. "It does everypony else looking to hire."

"If you'd approached me yesterday, I would have answered yes," the guard said. "However, you just showed an attitude unheard of in even ponies, so I'll make an exception for you. Even if you are only an average fighter, you'll make an amazing guard."

"Do I have to leave Ponyville?" the blank asked.  "Because if so, then count me out."

"I'll pull some strings," the guard said. "I used to go drinking with the captain when were were rookies. He owes me for not telling his marefriend some of the stories he told us. I'll even train you myself, just to keep you home."

"Sounds like a deal, then," Streak said. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow at dawn," Shield said. "No more being lazy. Your training will last all day, every day until I say you're allowed to stop. You still up for it?"

"If you could delay for a few days, I'd take it as a personal favor," Streak said. "Berry's little sister is sick and I take care of her during bar hours."

Shield nodded. "This is exactly what I'm talking about, kid. Sure. The second she's better, come on by and we'll get started. I'll be waiting every day at dawn for you."

"Thanks," Streak said.

"Thanks, what?" Shield said, getting a wide grin on his face.

"Thanks, sir?" the blank asked.

"We'll work on it. Let's get your marefriend out of her cell and on her way home," Shield said.

"Oh, Celestia, don't make me puke," Streak groaned. "There will never be anything between us."

"So you say," the guard teased as they walked. "Mark my words, kid; you will end up with Rainbow within the next two years."

"I sure hope not," Streak said, frowning. The rest of the short walk was in silence.

The guardspony walked up to the cell and unlocked it. He swung it wide. "Sorry for the misunderstanding, Miss Rainbow. You're free to go."

She looked at the two with wide eyes. "What?" She asked with disbelief.

"I explained that it was all an accident," Streak said. "We're both free to go."

She stared at him and walked out of the cell with trepidation. When nothing stopped her, she kept walking. At the door, she paused and looked back at the duo.

"You should get leaving, too," Shield said, turning to the blank. "It's getting pretty close to four, and Berry will start prepping the bar soon."

Streak nodded. "Have a good life. I'll talk to Berry about getting you some kind of discount."

"I won't say yes, since guards cannot accept gifts, but I won't say no. Do whatever," the guard said with a smile. "Now go."

Streak gave him a small salute and walked out of the building. A stunned Rainbow followed him outside. When they were under the sun, she asked, "How did you do that?"

"Trade secret," Streak said, smirking.

"Why did you do that?" she asked. "You hate me."

"And you me," he said. "Question not why you have good fortune, just roll with it."

"That was almost, almost wise," she said, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. You go do. . . whatever it is you do when you do stuff. Later." She spread her wings and took off for her floating cloud-house.

" 'Whatever it is you do when you do stuff'?" he asked the air. "And she was making fun of me for my word choice."


—*~*~*—


“Three days, recruit,” the guardspony said when Streak finally showed up. “I expected more.”

“She got better,” the blank said. “Why would I not show up?”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Shield said, clapping a hoof onto Streak’s withers. “Let’s get you started. Before we start the physical training, we need to make sure you know your stuff. First, there are three types of guard.”

“Earth, unicorn, and pegasus?” Streak asked.

“Day, Night, and Dusk,” the guard corrected. “Day guards are Princess Celestia’s, Night guards are Princess Luna’s, and Dusk guards bridge the gap between the two. Of the three, Day guards are the most common, and Dusk are the least.”

“I assume that’s because of Princess Luna’s recent reinstatement?” Streak asked.

“Correct,” Shield said. “Dusk guards are there in the case of another civil war. Not something we like to talk about, especially the Princesses. They are the best and the brightest of both Day and Night, and are the only guard branch you can’t apply to. You get recruited.”

“Doesn’t that cripple the other two?” Streak asked.

“That’s the point,” his companion replied. “They remain neutral to the politicking of the Princesses. They may get along, but Princess Luna is more used to now-archaic and antiquated ends-justify-means methods, while Princess Celestia prefers to avoid putting anypony through any kind of pain or inconvenience unless no other option presents itself, putting them at conflict on more than one occasion.”

“So who is in charge of the Dusk guards?” Streak asked. “I assume that Princess Celestia has control of the Day, and Princess Luna the night.”

Shield nodded. “Correct assumptions. The captain of the Dusk guards is their leader, rather than the second in command. She tends to prefer Princess Celestia’s methods over Princess Luna’s, but she also uses the Night Princess’s methods with less provocation.”

“How are the captains chosen?” the blank asked. “It seems like something important, especially for the Dusk guards.”

“Day captains are chosen by Princess Celestia, and Night captains are chosen by Princess Luna,” the guard answered. “Dusk captains are chosen. . . somehow. They don’t tell us. The Princesses and the Day and Night captains head into a magically sealed room and emerge with the name they chose.”

“That sounds cryptic,” Streak said. “But enough of that. What more do I need to learn?”

“That you are now a private third class in the Equestrian Guard,” Shield said, slipping into a commanding tone of voice, “and that from this moment forward, you are mine. If I say jump, you do not ask ‘how high”, you jump as high as you can because you know that will be the bare minimum I require of you; if I tell you to jump off a bridge, you ask me which one; and if I tell you to stab yourself in the leg, you go ahead and stab two just in case. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Streak said.

“Yes, what, private?” Shield asked.

“Yes, sir,” the blank said.

“Sound off like you have a pair!” the guardspony shouted.

“Yes, sir!” Streak exclaimed.

“We’ll work on it,” the guard said, looking at the blank with disapproval. “Now, for the baseline physical test.”


—*~*~*—


Streak didn’t go to the bar that night. Or the next. Or even the next week. Each day, he showed up at the guard station at dawn, and didn’t return home until past twilight. Each night, he collapsed into his bed when he made it—by the end of it all, he spent multiple days at Derpy’s, whose house was closer than his and whose couch was incredibly comfortable when you’re exhausted—and slept until his alarm woke him for another day of grueling training.

He wouldn’t have even cared if he was doing anything. Every day, he was forced to run laps around Ponyville. After three or so of those, he did basic exercises for the next two hours. After that, he ran even more laps around Ponyville. Then, when that was all done, he ran through the Whitetail Forest. Not on the paths, but straight through the underbrush. It mattered not where or how he ran, as long as he kept running—off the paths, of course—until the sun came down. After sundown, he would find his way back and return to the station, be informed of everything he might have possibly have done wrong and sent home.

One day, he decided to bring this up with Shield. “I’m not even doing anything. I’m just running around and doing pushups!”

“So you want to skip all this and get right into the thick of it, eh?” the guard asked. Streak nodded. “Fine. Let’s get you suited up.” Streak grinned, thinking he had won. He followed the other stallion to a locked room in the station that, apparently, held all the armor allotted to Ponyville. “This is standard issue Day guard armor,” Shield said. “Forty pounds of solid steel, plated with gold leaf.” After a moment, Streak was not so confidant in his choice of moving on when the armor was placed on him. It was fairly heavy, he was forced to admit. He had a new respect for Shield, having done the first few runs alongside him in armor.

“There we go. Now, time to figure out what your favored weapon is.” With a kick, another door opened, showing that there were literally dozens of swords, axes, spears, knives, maces, and anything else you could think of in an adjacent room. “We’ll start with the spears, since that’s what most ponies are proficient in.” He turned to look at Streak, who—even with his recent conditioning—was slightly winded. “Is that too heavy for you?”

“No, sir,” the blank said.

“Good,” the guard said. “I wouldn’t want to think that you were overconfident. That’s a trait normally associated with Rainbow Dash, isn’t it?”

Oh, it was on. “Yes, sir,” Streak said gritting his teeth. He wouldn’t back out now. He couldn’t back out now.

“Alright, here’s the spear. First step is to head to the training room. Try not to trip over your own hooves,” the guard then moved through the doorways with practiced ease, carrying at least half a dozen weapons on his back. Streak struggled to carry one spear while wearing his armor.

“Having trouble?” Shield asked with a smirk as Streak finally made it into the room. It was a fairly large room, being twenty meters square. There were pony-shaped dummies lined one of the walls, and the center of the room was dominated by a wood-bordered sunken sand pit.

“No, sir,” Streak said.

“Good. Go over to the dummies, and we’ll start teaching you how to use these weapons.”


—*~*~*—


“Alright, we’re having a surprise inspection soon,” Shield said a few weeks later. At this point, training had been going on for two months. After the first time Streak put his armor on to train, he never practiced without it—much to the surprise of his trainer. Most recruits went through the ‘I’m done with this’ phase, but only Streak was determined enough to keep going with it. He even did his runs, when he was required to do them, wearing his armor. “Because of this, I will expect you to be in top shape. These will be your final exams. Pass, and you’re done. Fail, and repeat everything. From day one.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Streak said.

There was a knock at the door and a pony in full guard armor walked through. Only his training kept Streak’s jaw from dropping. “Surprise.”

“I hope you’re ready,” the guardspony said.
> OCE: Into the Everfree
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Private,” Shield said, “we’ve got your first assignment. We’re heading into the Everfree Forest to look for a missing filly.”

Streak saluted his sergeant, snapping a hoof crisply up to his open-faced helmet. They were both suited up in the standard-issue gleaming golden armor of the Day guard, so as to be ready for any threats or dangers that needed to be confronted. “When are we moving out, sir?” he asked.

“Now,” the senior guard replied. "I'll fill you in as we walk."

The blank dropped his hoof and fell into step beside his superior. His hoof-falls rang out more than usual due to his metal covers. Unlike normal covers, these had three sharp steel blades attached to each, front hooves and back, to simulate the claws of predators such as timberwolves and manticores. Streak had found he had an aptitude to them, which was strange, especially since Shield told him they were alien to most ponies. Apparently he was the only pony that Shield had met that was a natural with them.

“Okay, so we’re looking for a young filly, named Mite. Her parents are visiting relatives in the city, and she ran off into the forest not knowing how dangerous it is,” Shield said. “I don’t have to tell you how important it is to find this filly as fast as we can, especially since she isn’t familiar with the territory.

“No, sir,” Streak said. “What am I looking for?”

“She might be difficult to find, due to her coloration and the general air of the Everfree. She has a black coat and a bright blue mane, and her eyes match her mane,” the senior guard said.

“Sky blue bright?” Streak asked for clarification.

“Just so,” Shield replied. “Now keep in mind that this is the Everfree. She could be injured, she could be dead. Most likely, she’s just dirty. Even so, brace yourself. Most guards aren’t prepared to see a dead body.”

“Sir,” Streak said, forgoing the traditional salute due to the walking pace set by his superior.

After a few minutes, the duo reached the borders of the Everfree Forest. Not even pausing, they plunged straight into the heart of the most dangerous place in Equestria. Within seconds, everything got dark as night. The branches of the trees around them twisted and interlocked above their heads, and glowing eyes attached to small, dark shapes peeked from their protected perches at the ones that didn’t belong.

Streak made eye contact with one pair of luminous eyes that was peeking out through the foliage at ground level. They conveyed a feeling of general malevolence, as if it didn’t care if he belonged or not, it was going to hurt him. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he forced himself to tear his vision away from those eyes.

Right into four more pairs, just as malicious as the first. He stopped in his tracks, a faltering brought about by cautious prudence. “Sir, I think we have an issue,” he called out softly.

“Timberwolves,” Shield responded from his position immobile next to the younger stallion. “Looks like a whole pack, too.”

As if spurred by the guards’ words, the creatures emerged. The first thing visible—save for their baleful eyes—were their muzzles. Slightly parted in anticipation, these twisted wooden protrusions held sharp, thorn-like fangs by the dozen. As the rest of their heads pushed into the clearing, Streak felt primal fear that only prey facing a predator feels. The wooden wolves growled as they slid slowly out of their element. They were in control of the moment, and they knew it.

A louder growl sounded off from right behind the guards. Streak risked a glance behind himself and had to work to not groan. Standing at the rear of the guards was a timberwolf easily twice the size of the ones in front of them. “I’ll take the large one,” Streak said as he cautiously turned around.

“Are you kidding me?” Shield asked, not risking taking his eye off of the four in front of him. “I’ll take the large one. I’m better at fighting than you are.”

“That’s why you’re fighting four at a time,” Streak mentioned.

There was a short pause. “So I am. You take the large one.”

Streak stared into the hostile eyes of the belligerent timberwolf. His attention—but not his eyes—roamed across the body of the beast. It was made of thick logs and branches pulled together and interwoven with thick vines to hold it together.Thorns stuck out seemingly at random from its body, leading Streak to believe it was literally cobbled together from whatever was available. It growled at him, glaring from under the leafy protrusions over its eyes.

The standoff was broken as Shield charged at the four smaller wolves. With the enchantment gone, the alpha charged. Streak dove under the beast as it swiped at not only where he was standing, but everywhere to his left and right. Using his momentum and that of the beast, he threw his hoof up. His steel claws gouged a trio of scars into the wooden underside of the beast, causing a watery sap to start leaking slowly from the wounds.

He quickly rolled and stood up, whirling around to face the creature again. It glared at him with hate-filled eyes. Before it was hungry, now it was personal. It howled, an eerie, echoing sound, before charging again. Knowing that trick wouldn’t work again, Streak decided to go up. As the beast lowered its head to cut off his opening to its belly, he jumped. Sensing its mistake fractions of a second too late, the alpha tried to swing its head up into his way. This served only to propel his jump a few feet farther and spin him slightly, placing him transversely on its back.

Not wasting a second of the time he didn’t have, the blank guard whipped his left forehoof out and dug his claws into the neck of the beast. As he was swinging his other forehoof around, the timberwolf shook in an attempt to dislodge its unwanted hitchhiker. As he flopped from side to side, he jabbed his free forehoof straight down. When that strike proved to be a glancing one, he tried again. This strike bounced off as well.

He cried out as his weight continued to pull on a single hoof, stretching the socket unnaturally. He twisted his left forehoof, popping his claws free from the wolf’s neck. He cried out as he bounced off a nearby tree, spinning in the air before hitting the ground. With a grunt, Streak stood up and braced himself to fight with the timberwolf alpha.

A fight that never came. The beast just stared at him while he stood up. Confused, Streak relaxed his defensive stance the slightest bit, hoping to draw it in on the offensive. There was a snorting sound, and Streak felt a blast of hot air on his plot. Glancing behind him, he saw three more regular timberwolves behind him with wolfish grins. “Bit of an issue here!” he called out.

Shield flashed into his peripheral vision, tackling him out of the lunge of two of the normal timberwolves. When they stopped rolling, the senior guard pulled up his subordinate. “Run!” he yelled, turning and running through the forest. Streak didn’t even pause, following directly behind him. The wolves nipped at their heels as they ran, toying with them. More than once, the duo had to juke to the side to avoid a wolf that had materialized in front of them.

Right as Streak was about to give up on escaping, a roaring sound was heard. This time, though, it wasn’t a waterfall. A beast crashed through the trees like they didn’t exist, slamming into the wolves behind them. It started snarling as the wolves—at this point they numbered over a dozen—launched themselves at it, forgetting their earlier prey. The duo kept running, but Shield took the energy to comment, “I don’t think I’ve ever been happy to see a manticore before!”

“Me either!” Streak shouted back.

They kept looking around themselves as they ran, looking for something that broke the monotony of the forest, be it clearing, cave, or mountain. The farther they ran, the less tangled the branches above them became, and the easier it became to see. After a few minutes, Shield exclaimed, “Cave! Two o’clock!” They barreled through the wide opening and Streak collapsed out of exhaustion. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, just tired,” Streak panted.

“Excuse me,” a small voice peeped. “Are you two guards?”

Streak turned his head to look at the new converser. There was a small filly—she couldn’t have been much older than Ruby—sitting in the small, dead-end cave they had just entered. He looked at his superior. “What are the chances we happened across the one cave in the Everfree we were looking for in a blind run?”

“Almost zero,” his superior replied. Shield turned to the filly. “Yes, we are. Your parents contacted us when you went missing.”

“I was just going to play in the woods,” she said innocently.

“This is the Everfree, Mite,” Streak said. “It is the most dangerous place in Equestria.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“Streak,” Shield said, shooting Streak a look. “You go watch the entrance. I’ll talk to the young filly.”

“Sir,” Streak saluted, dragging himself off the ground. He forced himself to walk to the front of the cave to provide overwatch for the two further inside. He tried not to listen to the two as they talked, but he caught some of their hushed whispers, due to the size and shape of the cave.

“—in the middle of this insect ridden dump,” he heard from the filly.

“—not much choice, not if we—” Shield replied.

“What about him?—could be—won’t be happy with you if—”

“I know, I know,” Shield replied. “We just have to be—”

“Or we could—” she replied calmly.

“No,” Shield said quietly but firmly. Then louder, “Let’s get you back to your parents, alright?”

The filly was immediately back into her shy mode she was in earlier. “O–okay.”

Streak cocked an eyebrow but didn’t comment. As the little earth pony filly walked past him, he made eye contact. Her eyes flashed momentarily and he felt a slight pressure on his mind. Afterwards, she walked right next to Shield as if nothing happened. Streak fell in behind the duo, casting a glance back at the cave. With the size and shape of that thing, you’d think I would have heard at least something of what they were saying, he mused.

The trio walked through the woods for a half hour before the branches started to gnarl. “Uh, sir?”

“You don’t have to get permission to speak, Streak,” Shield said. “Spit it out.”

“I think we shouldn’t keep going this way,” the rookie guard said.

“And why not?” his superior asked.

“Because this was the area the timberwolves prowled,” he reasoned. “And I think it’s safe to assume that the same thing will happen again, and we won’t have a manticore to drive them off this time.”

“Complaint logged,” Shield said, “and dismissed. This is the fastest way through the Everfree Forest. Any other way we’d have to deal with a delay of hours, potentially a day.”

“This way we have to deal with a delay of death,” Streak said.

“Private, keep your comments to yourself,” Shield snapped.

The junior guard ground his teeth. “Sir, yes sir.”

As they were walking, Streak saw a moving patch of darkness out of the corner of his eye. “Sir, I caught movement.”

“It’s probably a squirrel or rabbit,” Shield dismissed him.

“Sir, I think we—” Streak started.

“And I already said no,” his superior said. “We keep moving. I know what I’m doing, rookie.”

Streak sighed, but didn’t get to deliver his rebuttal. He was thrown off the trail by a large mass of wood. He screamed as shards of wood dug into his stomach and torso—one particularly long shard stabbed into the ground behind him—and strong jaws clamped around his his right foreleg. He swung his other foreleg up to attack his assailant, scoring a glancing blow on the beast, having his claw bounce harmlessly off of a bloody block of wood.

“Streak!” Shield exclaimed, jumping towards the guardspony and his alpha timberwolf combattant, only to be blocked by a small black filly. “What are you doing? He’s going to die!” he exclaimed.

A small black hoof pointed to the other side of the road, where nearly a dozen bundles of logs and branches were twitching and jumping together around the bloody corpse of a manticore. “The rest of the pack are about to reform. We need to go, now.”

Streak’s second swing was just as effective at dislodging the alpha from his leg. “Get. Off!” Streak yelled, emphasizing each word with a useless swing of his claws. He was at just the wrong angle to properly hit it. It growled in response, shaking its head. He screamed in agony as it tore at his flesh and yanked at his socket.

“That will be us in only a few minutes if we stay,” Mite said. “It’s him or us.” Shield was conflicted. He looked at Streak, then to the reforming timberwolves, then back.

The beast gave one last yank, and with a revolting sound of tearing, separated Streak’s leg from the rest of his body. Anguish he had never felt before flooded into Streak’s mind. “Shield!” he shouted. “Oh, Celestia, Shield! Help me!”

Shield took a step towards the combat, before faltering. Mite scoffed. “I’m leaving now, with or without you.” She turned around and started walking.

“Shield!” Streak screamed, tears falling down his face as the timberwolf started to gnaw on his other right leg. “Shield! Please! Help me! By Celestia, help me!”

Shield lifted a hoof as if to take a step forward, before placing it right back on the ground. “I’m sorry, Streak,” he said.

“Shield!” the maimed guard screamed at the retreating form of his superior and friend. “Shield, you bastard! Help me! Shield!” The other stallion didn’t even turn around as he abandoned his friend to a gruesome and slow death. “Shield!”

He kept yelling for Shield until his voice gave out five minutes later. By that time, the timberwolf had graduated to mauling his stomach and chest, and the others started to wait around in a perimeter, waiting for their share of the prey. Right before the pain and blood loss caused him to pass out, there was a flash of heat. A flaming and yelping timberwolf dislodged itself from his body and started running away, causing the rest of the pack to follow its alpha.

Streak saw a pony stand over his head, and caught the barest flash of a horn. He tried to speak, bit it came out in a raspy groan, “H–help. . . me. . .“

His savior’s eyes widened. “By all thirteen Gods, you’re still alive.” Her head whipped behind her. “Moth! We got a living one, here!” She looked back down at him. “It’s worse than it looks. You’ll be okay.” Streak nodded weakly, eyes drooping. “No, stay awake!” Her head whipped around again. “Moth! Hurry up!”

Another voice called out from somewhere Streak couldn’t see. “Not all of us are as young as you, Aphid. What is the—by the thirteen Gods. He’s alive?”

“Not for long if you sit with your jaw on the ground,” Aphid snapped. “Now help him!”

His body was surrounded by a green glow as his eyes closed.
> OCE: The Village
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Streak’s eyes snapped open to be met with a complete blackness. He was laying on his back, his throat was dry, and his whole body ached. His lips cracked as he opened his mouth to speak. His voice came out hoarse and weak, turning his shout into a wheezy whisper of a stallion on his deathbed. “H–hello?”

“Ah, you’re awake,” a motherly voice said.

“Where am I?” he croaked.

“Shh,” she shushed him, pressing a glass into his hooves. “Don’t talk. You’re weak and need to drink. Magic can do many things, but you need to put some real fluids inside yourself.”

“I can’t see,” Streak stubbornly pressed on.

“You have a blindfold on,” the voice answered, “and that’s not being quiet.”

“Who are you? Where am I?” Streak kept on going.

“If you drink, I’ll answer your questions,” she said. “Not until then.” Streak grumbled but drank the cup of water—slowly, at her urging. When he was finished, she pressed another cup into his hooves. “One more, then we’ll talk.”

After drinking the second cup, Streak sounded much more equine when he spoke. “Okay. Now, why am I blindfolded?”

“The light is bright,” she said, “and you have been in the dark for a long time.”

“Can you take it off?” he asked. “I much enjoy seeing.”

“Of course,” she said. Streak closed his eyes and braced himself for something, but he only felt two hooves press on the sides of his head and gently pull off the blindfold. “Better?” she asked as he opened his eyes. Everything was dim, but he could make out a black-coated, red-maned earth pony in front of him. Behind her was a room built completely of wood. It was no more than ten feet square, and was adorned with only a bed and a mirror on wheels on the wall nearby. One door stood in the wall opposite of the mirror.

“Much better,” he said, nodding in thanks. “Now I have more questions.”

“Of course you do,” she said. “Ask away, and I will answer what I can.”

“Who are you?” he asked bluntly. After a slight pause, he tried again, “Sorry. What is your name?”

“I am called Ladybug,” she said. “And don’t worry too much about being rude. After what you went through, I don’t think anyone expects you to be polite right away.”

“I still can’t be rude,” he said. Getting back on topic, he asked, “Where am I?”

“You are in Hive. It’s a small village nestled in the middle of the Everfree,” Ladybug said. “We don’t much care for outsiders, but we made you a special case.”

“Special case?” he asked, scratching his head with his right forehoof. “What made my case special?”

“Besides the fact you were being eaten alive by timberwolves?” she asked wryly. “I don’t think we need much of a reason to keep you until you felt better, and most of us even want to ask you to stay. You don’t have to answer now, but you would not be treated as an outsider.”

“I–I have to think about that,” Streak said. “I feel like I have to return to Equestria. I’m a royal guard, and we don’t abandon Equestria.” His expression darkened. “Our friends are apparently a different story.”

Ladybug winced in sympathy. “As I said, you don’t have to answer. I assume you have more than two questions?”

“Many more than two,” he replied. He looked at his leg. “Didn’t I lose this? I remember losing this.”

She guided his eyes to the base of his leg, where an irregular ring of white dissected the fur on his body. “You most definitely lost that leg.”

“So you found it and reattached it?” he asked. “That’s impressive.”

“It was carried off by one of the fleeing timberwolves,” Ladybug said. “We weren’t able to recover it.”

“How did you–not even the Princesses could create a new leg from scratch!” Streak exclaimed.

“It wasn’t from scratch,” she said. “Leave that topic alone, please. At least for now.”

Streak sighed, “I owe you at least that much. You guys saved my life.”

“You owe us nothing, young one,” Ladybug said.

“That’s crap and you know it,” he said. “What about my other leg and chest? What happened to them?”

She sighed, “I guess I won’t be able to stop these questions. Look at your body. Do you see anything different?”

Streak examined his body. He saw nothing unusual, besides his right side being slightly smaller than his left. That was to be expected, though, especially since he lost the whole right side of his body not too long ago. “I see nothing unusual.”

Ladybug silently pulled up a mirror and positioned it so he could see himself. He looked into it. “See? Nothing’s. . . different. . .” His face was the same as it always was, save for the spike of grey sticking out of the middle of the rainbow streak down the center of his mane. That was a horn. He had a horn. “Why do I have a horn?”

“There was no way to save you,” Ladybug said. “There was no way we could have possibly put you back together and kept you alive for any length of time.”

“But you did,” Streak said. “I’m here, talking with you.”

“We didn’t,” she said. “You were found by Aphid and Moth, one of our many teams sent into the Everfree to cull the predator population and keep Hive safe. Aphid was great with combat magic and Moth was a healer.” She sighed, looking down. “Aphid forced Moth to do a ritual, one that would combine you two physically and use her to heal you. After the ritual, Moth brought your combined body back to heal what the ritual didn’t.”

“So you’re saying that my leg is not my leg,” he said. “You’re saying that my leg is actually Aphid’s leg?”

“Both your right legs are Aphid’s,” Ladybug corrected. “As is most of your stomach and internal organs.”

“I—” Streak shook his head. “Why? Why me? I’m a nobody. I don’t have a cutie mark, I have no close family. I don’t even do anything besides sit around at the bar and drink water!”

“She could tell that it took many minutes for you to get to where you were. Many minutes of agony. She didn’t know that that agony was both physical, due to being eaten alive, and mental, due to being abandoned to that fate by a comrade. She said that if anyone deserved to live at that moment in time, it was you.”

“You said earlier that I don’t owe you guys anything,” Streak said. “I think I owe you everything. Not only did you save my life, but you lost one of your own to do so.”

“You owe us nothing,” she reiterated. “She made this decision on her own volition. It was not us that saved you, but her.”

Streak looked back at his legs and stomach. “What color was her fur?” he asked.

“Black,” Ladybug said. “Same as everyone else’s in Hive. Why? Do your fur colors not match? I just assumed wherever you came from was a village of grey-furred ponies.”

“No,” he said. “We have blues, greens, purples, browns, whites, greys, and any other color you can imagine.”

“That is quite peculier,” she mused.

“If her fur was black, how come the parts of me that are her are my normal fur color?” Streak suddenly asked.

“We enchanted you to make your fur a uniform color,” she explained.

“Get rid of it,” he demanded.

“What?” she asked, shocked.

“Get rid of it,” he reiterated. “She died to save me, the least I can do is not hide what’s left of her.”

“Before we do this, I have to warn you,” Ladybug cautioned, “the merging was more complete than it needed to be. We never use this spell, so it was cast without practice.”

“I assumed when I had a horn,” Streak said. “I refuse to hide her, even if my whole body becomes pitch black.”

“Alright,” she said. She turned to look at the door. “Moth! Get in here!”

An annoyed but familiar voice grumbled as its owner walked through the door. He was a black unicorn with a light grey mane. “What?”

“Take down the enchantment,” she said.

“Do you really want me to?” he groaned.

“Yes,” Streak said.

“Ah, so he’s finally awake?” he asked. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Streak,” he said. “Now if you would?”

The unicorn grumbled, “Kids and their patience.” Despite his grumbling, his horn flashed green, and a wave of green raced across Streak’s body, reverting colors back to their originals.

Streak looked down at himself. His entire right side was black, as well as most of his stomach. The black ran up his neck, and he could see it on part of his nose. He looked into the mirror, and was surprised by what he saw. His face was half black on the right side, nearly perfectly split down the middle. The eye on the right side was a vibrant blue, like that of Mite’s mane. His mane was also changed. The rainbow streak was unchanged, as was the black on the left side. However, on the right side of his body, his mane matched his new eye. As if it didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity, his horn was hemisected as well. It took half a glance to confirm that, yes, his tail had joined in the dimidiation.

The duo misinterpreted his silence. “We can put it back on,” Ladybug suggested.

“No,” Streak said. “It’s weird, I’ll admit, but it’s something I can get used to. She died to save me, I refuse to just hide her because I dislike change.”

“If that’s all you need me for?” Moth asked. “I have to deal with Beetle again. He never seems to understand that allergies aren’t curable with magic. Comes in every spring.”

Streak froze. “Spring? It’s summer.”

“No, it’s spring,” Moth said. “Ladybug, you deal with this one. I have to get back to my patients.” As he left, he grumbled, “ ‘No open partners’, my flank.”

“What does he mean it’s spring?” Streak demanded. “It was late summer when I went into the Everfree.”

Ladybug sighed. “Look, Streak,” she started, “you took a lot of damage. If you’ll pardon my bluntness, you had half your body ripped to shreds and replaced magically with another pony’s. You took a while to recover fully.”

“But did I really have to be out for over nine months?” he asked.

“Did you want to die?” she asked. “We kept you magically sedated for six months, and you were able to wake up for the other three at any time. You didn’t, so you needed to be out.”

“Nine months, though?” he asked.

“Nine months,” she confirmed. “I hate to be the bearer of this news.”

Streak scoffed. “Ponyville probably thinks I’m dead right now, since Shield abandoned me to return there.”

“Then stay here,” she suggested. “We have the open space, and I’m sure we can find someone to teach you how to use that horn.”

“No,” Streak said, shaking his head. “I know somepony that can teach me magic like none other. I also have to make sure ponies know what Shield did.”

“What exactly happened?” Ladybug asked. “I want to hear every detail.”

Streak spent the next few minutes retelling the story, starting at the guard station and ending with his mauling by the alpha timberwolf. Ladybug hummed in thought at the end. “It seems like this filly you were sent to rescue is more than she seems. On top of that, Shield didn’t abandon you without good reason.”

“But he left me to be eaten alive in the Everfree Forest,” Streak argued. “What kind of pony can do that with a clear conscience?”

“What if he doesn’t have a clear conscience?” she asked him. “Think about it. He was forced to abandon a friend to a gruesome death to avoid the same fate for himself and a filly he was sent to retrieve. He was faced with a lose-lose situation, and he made a choice.”

Streak sighed. “Logically, I know that. Emotionally? That’s a whole other animal. I know I shouldn’t hate him, but I do. Am I a bad pony, Ladybug?”

“You aren’t a bad pony,” she said. “You’re a pony. We are—at our core—flawed. Does that make you right? It certainly doesn’t make you wrong. That is all I can say. You need to find the truth for yourself.”

Streak groaned. “I hate when ponies tell me that I need to figure things out for myself. Let me guess, if you tell me then I lose the point of it gained by the act of learning?”

“Yes,” she said with a wry grin. “Heard this before?”

“Too often,” he said. He looked at the door. “Am I ready to head back?”

“It will take a few days before you can walk unassisted, and about a week before you can make the trek through the Everfree,” Ladybug said. “Of course, we will provide a guide and guards for you.”

“I don’t think that’s needed,” Streak started to argue.

“If you die on the walk back, then Aphid’s sacrifice was for naught,” Ladybug said bluntly. “I won’t let my daughter’s death mean nothing.”

Streak gaped at her. “Aphid was your–and you’re okay with–I don’t even know how to start telling you how confused I am right now.”

“Then don’t,” she said. “You gave my daughter a chance to have a meaningful death, something many ponies hope for and live their lives looking for. She got hers, and it was because of you.”

“But I’m the reason your daughter died!” Streak exclaimed. “Do you not hate me for that?”

“Hate you? No,” Ladybug said. “I don’t hate you. Am I saddened by my daughter’s choice? Yes. Am I proud of her for making that choice? Yes, I am. Would I kill you if it meant bringing her back to me? No, I wouldn’t. She was a grown mare that made a choice. I have to let go at some point and stop trying to control her life.”

“You are a better pony than I am,” Streak commented.

“It’s funny you say that,” she chuckled. She ignored Streak’s look and continued, “As I said, you’ll be here about a week. Take some time to get to know the ponies if you wish. If you don’t, we hold no grudge against you.”

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to devote my time to getting better,” he said. “Nothing against your ponies, of course.”

“Of course,” she said with an understanding smile.


—*~*~*—


“Here we are,” a green-maned unicorn named Ant said as the group pulled up to the border of the Everfree. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

“I’m sure,” Streak said.

“The offer is always on the table. If you ever need a place, we’re always watching the Everfree. If we see you, we’ll grab you,” Ant said as he turned around. “C’mon, Dragonfly, Cockroach, let’s head back home.” The blue and pink maned pony guards, respectively, nodded and followed the guide back into the forest.

As Streak walked into the town, he was spotted by a certain berry-red pony. She approached from his left. “Hey, is that you Streak? Shield told us you were reassigned.”

Streak looked at her. “Yep, it’s me. No, I wasn’t reassigned. Do you know where  Shield is at this time of day?”

Berry gasped when she saw the other side of Streak’s face. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“Long story. If you want to hear it, feel free to follow me. Where is Shield?” he repeated.

“He should be in the guard station,” Berry said.

“Thank you,” Streak said. As he started walking past her, he paused. “Berry, why aren’t you in the bar?”

She blinked slowly. “It’s the week before the Grand Galloping Gala, Streak,” she said. “Nopony’s business is open. It’s a kind of unofficial tradition here in Ponyville.”

“That’s an odd tradition,” Streak commented, “but I’ve seen weirder places.” His piece said, he started walking towards the station again. Berry was on his heels as he walked.

“Hey, who the hay are you?” a voice Streak would never have missed—no matter how long he was away—said. He stopped in the streets and looked over at Rainbow.

“Has it really been that long, Rainbow?” Streak asked. “Or are you just that stupid?”

She growled. “Now I know for certain it’s you. What did you do to yourself? What kind of demented things did you do to give yourself a horn?”

“To myself?” he exclaimed. “Do you think I enjoy this?”

“”Wait, you have a horn!” Berry exclaimed. “How did I miss that?”

Rainbow snorted. “Of course it would land on Streak to decide he wasn’t good enough as an earth pony and elevate himself above us commoners.”

Streak’s—Aphid’s, he reminded himself—hoof went flying out and slammed into Rainbow Dash’s jaw, snapping her head to the side. “Don’t you dare compare me to those pompous nobles up in Canterlot,” he growled.

“You remember how this worked for you last time?” she growled.

“I got a job,” he said as he settled into a fighting stance. “I am in no mood to deal with your pettiness today, Rainbow, but maybe this time I’ll get a house out of kicking your flank across the street and back.”

Rainbow growled and started lunging, but Berry stepped between the two. “Stop this. Now.” She turned on Rainbow. “He’s goading you, Rainbow. Don’t keep falling for it. Be the better pony.” The barmare whirled around and looked at Streak. “And you. I don’t care what you went through, that is no excuse for picking a fight in the middle of the street.”

Streak calmly pointed at the irregular seam around his right foreleg. “You see this?” he asked.

“I just said I don’t care—” Berry started.

“This happened when I was getting mauled by a timberwolf. Pulled it right off.” He pointed at Rainbow. “She is currently between me and the pony responsible for causing this. I will not suffer delays.” Berry and Rainbow gaped at him at the casual way he described getting a leg ripped off. While they were distracted, he walked right past them and continued his walk to the station. He didn’t have to look behind him to know he now had two shadows.

It didn’t take Streak long to find his way to the station. The door slammed as Streak stormed into the building. “Shield!” he shouted. “Get out here!”

The sound of hoofsteps echoed throughout the building. “What do you want?” an annoyed sounding voice called out as Shield walked into the room from Streak’s left. “You could at least–no.”

“Yes,” Streak growled, turning to face him. “You abandoned me, Shield.”

“I had no choice!” the guardspony defended himself. “The rest of the pack was going to reform within minutes, and then all three of us would have died.”

“I was being eaten alive, Shield,” the hemisected blank said, “and you walked away without raising a hoof to save me.”

Berry gasped from her position behind the two. Rainbow next to her had a glare leveled at the senior guard.

“It was you, or all three of us,” Shield said. “I made my choice.”

“Do you know what that felt like?” Streak asked. “Do you know what it feels like to have your leg ripped off? To have another one eaten while attached to your body? To feel the muzzle of a timberwolf rooting around in your gut for the tastiest bits?”

“No, I don’t,” Shield said. “I had no choice, Streak. Nothing you say will change that.”

Rainbow stepped forward. “You didn’t even attempt to help him. That was a choice.”

“I don’t see how this involves you, if you pardon my frankness,” the guard said.

“I am the Element of Loyalty,” she growled. “You abandoned a friend to be eaten alive without even attempting to help him. I think this involves me.”

“I thought you hate each other,” Shield said. “Why are you coming to his defense?”

“Because I’m the Element of Loyalty,” she reiterated. “It doesn’t matter that I dislike him.”

“That isn’t even why I’m as mad as I am, Shield,” Streak interrupted. “I’m mad because you caused the death of a good pony.”

“I caused no such thing,” the guard said.

“Her name was Aphid,” Streak continued. He lifted a leg. “This was hers. So are most my organs, my horn, and half my body.”

“How—” Berry started.

“She died to save me,” Streak said, stepping towards his former friend. “She died because of you.”

“I had no choice!” Shield shouted. In the silence that followed his outburst, be continued. “Yes, I abandoned you. I. Had. No. Choice. It was either abandon you, or let Mite and me join you. Did I enjoy it? No!”

“You lied,” Berry said. “You told us he was reassigned.”

“It’s what the guard does sometimes when somepony dies in service and we can’t recover a body,” Shield said. “If they have no loved ones, we sometimes don’t say that they died.”

“Ah reckon that is the stupidest freaking thing ah’ve ever heard,” a voice said from the back of the group. Streak turned around to see Applejack adjust her stetson on her head at the front of a small crowd. The yelling must have attracted more than a few spectators, it seemed. “That seems a mite bit dishonest, don’t ya think?”

“It’s like telling a foal that their mother is gone and not coming back rather than telling them she’s dead,” he reasoned. “It’s left up to the highest ranking officer to decide.”

“We tell that to foals because they don’t understand death proper,” Applejack said. “Ah do. So do the rest of his friends. Ah am mighty disappointed in you, Shield.”

He sighed. “Okay, I made some bad decisions. None of them are unforgivable, though.”

“Logically? Yes,” Streak said. “Realistically? I don’t think we’ll be working together for a long while yet.” He turned and looked at Berry. “I’m going to go talk with Change and Twilight. I’ll see you around town.” He glanced at Rainbow. “You seem to have gotten your head out of your plot. Not more than a few inches, but it’s an improvement.”

With those words—and a nod to Applejack—Streak pushed his way through the small crowd that had formed and left.
> The Best Day Ever
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“You are going to love me!” the normally timid Fluttershy shouted as animals—big and small—ran in terror away from her.

He had to say, this day just kept getting even more interesting.

Maybe we should start from the beginning. The most interesting day in Streak’s life—so far, at least—started with a letter. It wasn’t an odd letter, in fact it was the most normal looking letter he had received.

Early in the morning, Streak heard a knock at his and Change’s shared door. Since Change was either passed out or drunk, the blank drug himself out of bed. He stumbled, half asleep, to the door and fumbled with it for a second before it opened.

He was met with a blast of cheerful. “Good morning Streak!” Derpy said with too much cheer for the time of day it was. She had a pair of medium brown saddlebags with little letter-shaped clasps strapped on her back and a huge grin on her face. “I have some mail for you!”

Streak blinked twice slowly before saying, “Muh, morning Derpy. You’re awake this morning.”

“I’m awake every morning, silly!” she said, smiling. She reached into her saddlebags and grabbed a letter in her mouth. “Hrr yh go!”

Without thinking, Streak grabbed onto the letter with his own mouth, brushing her own in the process. He nodded at the mailmare when she dropped it, missing the huge blush that had formed on her face. “Hanksh Erpy,” he said as he walked back inside and closed the door.

He placed the letter on the table to see it addressed simply.



Streak



“How quaint,” he muttered to himself. With a bit of effort, he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. He disregarded the simple ticket inside, eyes tracing the lines of text, frowning as he went along.



	Streak,

I know this won’t get me your forgiveness, so I’ll go right off the bat and tell you this isn’t what this is for. With that out of the way, let’s dive into the meat of this, shall we?

I acquired a job for you. No, it’s not with me, nor is it in the Everfree. What it is is the easiest job you can have in the guard. You will be guarding the Grand Galloping Gala. Now this event has been going on for years and nothing interesting has happened, so this is a great way for you to get to know your fellow guards while resting and recuperating from your injuries. I hope that you will attend, since they are expecting you there. The ticket is your train ticket to Canterlot. Wear your armor and head to the back entrance of the castle. If you don’t know where it is, ask the guards at the front gate.

If we want to be technical, you have to be a guard and have passed training for six months before you are allowed active duty in the castle. That being said, I kept you on record as a member of the guard for the nine months you were gone. Small blessings, am I right?

Go where they need you, when they need you. They aren’t like me. They don’t care about you as a pony, since they can’t take the time to get to know every single pony in the guard. If you meet Captain Shining Armor—you will know by the purple armor—be polite and courteous. Your actions reflect on all past, current, and future Ponyville guards.

Your friend, think it or not,
Shield.




Streak sighed. “Tell me the day of, why don’t ya?” he asked the air, not expecting a response. He walked into Change’s room to see the drunk swirling a bottle of what was probably vodka. “I’m heading out. Got a job up in Canterlot, so I’ll probably be back sometime late tomorrow.”

The drunk waved his hoof goodbye. “Bye bye! Have fun storming the castle!”

Change rolled his eyes and walked to the front of the house. He pulled open the door only to find Derpy still on the front porch in some kind of daze. “Uh, Derpy? You didn’t have more than one letter for me, did you?”

His voice seemed to snap her out of her daze. “Uh, no.”

“Then why are you on my porch again?” he asked. “I have no problem if you want to visit, but you have a job you need to finish first and I’m heading to Canterlot.”

She laughed nervously. “I guess I just got turned around and landed at the wrong house. He he, silly me!”

Streak smiled at her. “Happens to the best of us. I’ll see you when I get back, eh?”

“Sure, Streak,” she replied with a demure smile.


*~*~*


"Looking for the back door?" a guard asked, walking up from Streak's left. Streak turned his head slightly to look at him. He was a young colt—must have joined the guard the second he could—and had white fur and a blonde mane. Streak secretly wondered if the capital built enchantments into their suits of armor to make the guard look uniform.

"I grew up in Canterlot," Streak said. "Tried sneaking through the door once or thrice."

The other guard nodded. "I'm just going to follow you, then. I have no idea where to go."

After a few moments of silence, Streak spoke up. "You do this before?"

"Gala duty, or guard duty in general?" the other guard asked.

"Either," the blank said.

"No to both. I managed to get this as my first castle duty. My six months was last week," the younger guard said with a smile. "When was yours?"

"Six months, or first castle duty?" Streak asked for clarification.

"Why not both?" the young guard asked.

"This is my first castle duty," Streak said. "My six months was. . . three or so months ago."

The guard gave out a low whistle. "Who's bad side did you get on to spend three months after your six months before getting in the castle? I honestly want to know so that I can avoid them."

"A timberwolf," Streak replied frankly. "Spent nine months in a magically induced coma after getting half eaten alive." It took him a few steps before he noticed his companion had stopped in the middle of the road. He turned around to look at him directly. "You okay?"

"Am I okay?" the young guard asked. "Why are you asking me this? How long ago did you wake up?" There was a slight pause before he added, "And why is half your body a different color than the other half?"

"I woke up about a week ago," the older guard said. "As for the different colors thing, a pony sacrificed her life to heal me. That and this," he tapped his horn, "are the side effects of keeping me alive."

The young guard's jaw dropped again. "I don't even. . . ." He shook his head, continuing their walk. "Name's Bright."

"Streak," the such-named pony said. "Nice to meet you."

The other guard shook his head as they started walking up to the rear entrance. "Dude, you're my idol now. You survived being eaten by a timberwolf."

"That was much more luck than skill," Streak replied. "I did lose half my body in the process, I'll have you know, and I'm not too fond of animals right now, either."

"You won't have to worry about animals at the Gala," Bright said. "They keep to the gardens."

The duo walked up to a pair of bored-looking unicorn guards. "Name?" one drones.

"Bright," the such-named stallion said.

The guard pulled out a clipboard. After a few seconds, he found the stallion’s name. "You're in the main ballroom. If something goes wrong, which it won't, you're to exit the area and let experienced guards deal with the crowd. Keep ponies out of hallways they aren't supposed to be in in that case." He turned to Streak as Bright walked into the castle. "Name?"

"Streak," Streak replied.

The guard started searching his clipboard with no hurry. He had obviously done this job more than once. His partner gave Streak a look. "Never met a pony that looked odd as you," he said. "Dye job gone wrong?"

"Everfree," Streak corrected, frowning.

"Poison joke?" the guard asked.

"Timberwolf," Streak said.

"You're telling me that story sometime over some drinks," the guard said. "Name's Grasshopper. I’ll find you after the Gala. Drinks on me.”

The guard with the clipboard spoke up, “I don’t see you on here.”

Grasshopper interjected himself, “He’s a new addition. Shield sent me a notice about him.”

“We don’t do last second additions,” the so-far-unnamed guard said.

“We did for him,” Grasshopper said. “Just don’t worry about it, he’s accounted for.”

The moniker-less guard turned to Streak. “Welcome to Canterlot Castle. I’ll have my eyes on you.”

The other guard spoke up, “Don’t mind him none. All Cannon usually doe is bluster.”

“And when it isn’t bluster?” Streak asked.

“Hope he isn’t aimed at you,” the guard said. “Do try to have fun standing around with a blank face, will you? Just stick with Bright, and you’ll be fine.”


*~*~*


“You are going to love me!” the normally timid Fluttershy shouted as animals—big and small—ran in terror away from her.

"They usually keep to themselves," Bright corrected, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

“I’d say something went wrong,” Streak commented. He jerked his head to indicate the door they were standing by. “Time to get out of the way of the experienced ponies, eh?”

The indicated door swung open and Cannon walked up to the duo. “We’ll handle this. We’re pulling the seniormost guards from all over the castle, and you two drew the short straw. You’re guarding Princess Luna’s room.”

The duo of junior guards saluted their superior and started the trek to their assigned location. They only ran into guards and official-like ponies while on the way to the Princess’s room, and as such didn’t have to stop their momentum.

Streak wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the Lunar Diarch’s door—probably some large, ornate thing with a large moon in it and splattered with stars—but it was a simple wooden door slightly recessed into the wall. The only reason they knew it was Princess Luna’s room was because they got confirmation from a passing servant.

Streak settled into position on the right side of the door at Bright’s urging. Apparently the young guard’s right eye wasn’t as good as he would like it to be and he wanted to be on the left, where his good eye was more important. The duo stood perfectly still, knowing that at any point a superior could walk by, and if one did, they didn’t want to be caught slacking.

After a few minutes, clacking hoof-falls echoed down the hallway, indicating the presence of covers on the pony walking towards the guards. Within seconds, a young unicorn walked down the hallway. Her mane was a light blue, a direct contrast to her dark blue coat. She was wearing a scaled down copy of Princess Celestia’s regalia that was made of silver rather than gold.

She stopped within a few feet of Bright. “Who art thou?” she asked in an archaic tongue. “What ist thou doing outside Our door?”

“We’re your guards, your majesty,” Bright said. It was at that moment that Streak noticed the wings on her back.

“We hath guards, and thou are not they,” she said. “Begone, pretenders!”

“There was a disruption at the Gala,” the younger guard said. “Your regular guards were called in to deal with it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Bright. Streak could see the slightest hint of discomfort on the guardspony’s face out of the corner of his eye. The Princess nodded. “Thou art permitted to stay. Thou, however,” she said, turning to look at Streak. “Thou art not. Get thine disrespectful self away from Our presence at once.”

“No, ma’am,” Streak said, still looking right ahead. Disrespectful? Maybe now.

“Thee disrespect Us more?” Princess Luna exclaimed, more out of confusion than anger. “Dost thou not know who We are? Dost thou not fear Us?”

“I know who you are, your majesty,” Streak said. “I also know who you were. But scared of you? Never.”

“Why art thou not scared of Us?” she asked. “And why dost thou not look at your Princess when addressing Us?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, your majesty,” Streak said.

“How would looking at Us make Us uncomfortable?” the younger diarch asked.

“I have a striking appearance,” he said.

“We hath seen wounds most grievous indeed, guard,” Luna said. “We are not afraid of an odd looking pony.” Streak turned to look at her, and she gasped involuntarily as his duality became apparent. After her outburst, he turned to face forward again. “We didn’t mean to insult,” she said softly, seeing the hurt hidden behind Streak’s facade. “We were merely surprised.”

“It is not proper for a guard to hold conversation while on duty,” Streak said in monotone.

The diarch sighed, knowing she was getting nothing further out of the guard. She turned to look at Bright. “What is thine name?”

“Bright, your majesty,” the guard said.

“And what is the name of thine companion?” she asked.

“Streak, your majesty,” he said.

“Thank ye,” she said. “That is all.” With her piece said, she walked through the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Bright whispered harshly, “What were you thinking?”

“I’m not in the mood to talk about it,” Streak replied.

“I don’t care,” Bright whispered. “That was the Princess you just blew off!”

“Bright, do your job and stare straight ahead silently,” the dual guard said.

The guard sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere with him. After a few minutes, the Lunar Diarch called out from her room, “Streak, We wish to see thou.”

The named guard sighed, but obeyed his Princess. As he walked into the entry room, the door slammed behind him. After taking a moment to glance at the door he shrugged and walked further, through a door into the actual room. It was a small room—for a Princess—being just thirty feet square. What he saw inside made him cock an eyebrow.

A tall, lithe alicorn was standing in the middle of the room. She was darker than Luna, a pitch black rather than dark blue. Her mane was the color of Luna’s coat, flowed ethereally, and was dotted with sparkling stars. A long horn was placed on her forehead, and massive wings spread off her back. Her eyes were cyan, with a slit pupil, and it looked like she had applied purple eyeliner around her eyes.

Streak blinked once, twice, and a third time before replying. “Princess Luna?”

The Princess cackled madly, “Your Princess is no more! Soon nighttime eternal shall reign again!”

“Nightmare Moon it is, then,” Streak sighed, “Well, get it over with.”

“Wha–that’s it?” she asked, deflating. “Thou aren’t going to try and stop Us? Not even cower a little?”

“What’s the point?” he asked. “Even if I were to try—and fail, mind you—to stop you, what would happen then? Princess Celestia and the Elements of Harmony are literally in the same building. Your ‘nighttime eternal’ would be, at most, a few hours.”

A starry fog swirled around Nightmare Moon, shrinking and contorting until she appeared as Princess Luna again. “Why art thou not afraid of Us?” she asked. “We even tried turning into the Nightmare again, and it didn’t work.”

“Why are you complaining?” he asked. “Isn’t it better to be loved than feared?”

“But nopony loved Us,” she said. “All We had was fear. Fear is a useful tool.”

“Why do you think ponies sided with Princess Celestia over you when you turned to the Nightmare?” Streak asked. “I can tell you, if you want.”

“Because they love her more than Us,” the young Princess pouted.

“Because they loved both you and Celestia,” the guard said. “The reason they sided with your sister is that they were afraid of you. That is the only reason.”

“We doubt it was the only reason,” she grumbled.

Streak sighed. “Okay, maybe there was something in there about how nighttime eternal would end in extinction for the whole planet.”

“There it is,” Luna said.

“But do you get my point?” he asked. “They are afraid of you because you refuse to let them love you. If they fear you, they can’t love you. You have to make a choice.” He looked her in the eye. “Do you want to be feared, or loved?”

“We–We want to be loved,” she said, sitting down on her rump. “We want to be as Celestia in the eyes of Our subjects.”

“Can that happen while you abuse the latent fear of Nightmare Moon rather than trying to win the love of your subjects?” he asked.

“Why ist thou helping us?” Luna asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier for thou to just leave Us to wallow in our misery?”

“Easy isn’t what I do,” Streak said. “Right is what I do. You needed this talk.”

Luna paused momentarily before asking what had been on her mind for a while. “Why is thine body like it is?” Streak’s face fell into a deadpan, and she quickly said, “We mean no disrespect, but honestly want to know.”

“I decided to play fetch with a timberwolf,” Streak said. “It decided I looked tasty.”

It was Luna’s turn to deadpan. “Tell Us all of it.”

After a few minutes, Streak got his story out. From leaving to find the strange filly Mite, to his return from Hive. The whole time Luna was silent and attentive, only speaking to clarify a point. When he finished telling his story, both him and the diarch were laying down. Her on her bed, and him on the floor. It would be improper for him to have joined her, even at her invitation.

“It sounds like thou went through something nopony alive can help thou with,” Luna said. “Being eaten alive is not something We have experience with.”

“I don’t expect to find help,” Streak said. “I expect to live my life as best I can so that Aphid’s sacrifice doesn’t go to waste.”

“A noble goal,” the diarch said. “One worth living thine life around, if We do say so Ourselves.”

“One quick question, why do you use thee, thine, thou, We, and Us all the time?” Streak asked. “It’s a little odd.”

“That is the proper royal way of speaking,” Luna said in shock. “It surprises Us that thou wish Us to speak in a different manner!”

“I think your ideas of proper are a little dated, your majesty,” Streak said. “I have never once heard Princess Celestia talk in that way.”

“And I think that thou should watch thine tongue,” Luna said, mocking seriousness and glaring at him playfully. “We are thine Princess, after all.”

“Of course, your majesty,” Streak said, grinning, and giving her an overly elaborate bow. “As you wish.” Luna giggled and lightly smacked him on the shoulder with magic. His smile fell as he said, “I should probably get going back outside. I have a job to do and all.”

Luna frowned. “Could thou stay? I–I don’t want to be alone again.”

Streak nodded. “Of course.”


—*~*~*—


“—and when I woke up, I was on a random roof in Ponyville!” Streak exclaimed, much to the Princess’s amusement. “And that’s not the worst part.”

“Oh, don’t tell Us you woke up in somepony’s hooves!” Luna laughed.

“Of all the ponies to wake up cuddling, it had to be Rainbow Dash,” Streak chuckled.

“That didn’t work out well, did it?” she asked with much amusement.

“Oh, no,” Streak said. “You remember how we don’t like each other? She threatened to leave me on the roof!”

“That could have been awkward for thou,” Luna giggled.

“It already was,” he said, laughing. “That would have just made it worse.”

Luna laughed. “Dost thou have any more amusing anecdotes? We find thine company most enjoyable.”

“I have a couple. I didn’t already tell you how I joined the guard, did I?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “We aren’t sure how that could be amusing, but We shall trust thine judgement.”

There was the muffled sound of voices from the other side of the door. “Where is your partner, guardspony?”

“Inside, sir,” Bright said. “The Princess wanted to speak with him, and he’s been in there for hours.”

“It hasn’t been hours,” Streak said, looking at a clock. He blinked. “Or maybe it has.”

There was a knock at the door, and Luna called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, and a stallion walked through. He had a two-toned blue mane that seemed to stick through his helmet. His armor was an ornate thing, more complicated than your average guard’s and gilded in purple. It lay over his white fur as if it was made to fit him perfectly—which made sense when Streak remembered that the purple armor meant he was the Captain of Day—and probably was. Streak immediately stood from his position laying on the floor and saluted his superior.

“At ease, guardspony,” Shining Armor said. He turned to look him in the eye. “Why are you not at your post?”

“Oh hush, Shining Armor,” Luna said. “We explicitly asked him to stay when he attempted to return to his position. Unless thee want to accuse Us of breaking rules, thou would do well to remain silent.”

“Princess,” Streak scolded lightly.

Luna blushed lightly, though it was nearly impossible to see due to her coat color, and repeated what she had said—nicely, “We asked Streak to keep us company.”

“Better,” Streak said with a smile.

“Are you ordering around a Princess, guard?” Shining Armor demanded. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Calm thyself, Shining Armor,” Luna said. “Streak hath brought it to Our attention that We need to change to fit the new Equestria, not the other way around.”

“She was focusing on keeping her feared status, since it was easier,” Streak said. “I convinced her to be nicer.”

Luna blushed a little deeper as she said, “I would like to be loved, rather than feared.”

Shining Armor’s jaw dropped at what he was seeing. “Guard, what’s your name?”

“Streak, sir,” Streak said.

The Captain of the Day guard looked him directly and said, “Have you thought about switching to the Night Guard?”
> Return of Harmony Part Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	It was the week after the strange events of the Gala, and Streak had not yet joined the ranks of the Night guard. There was all kinds of red tape that had to be plowed through that he wasn't likely to transfer for another few weeks yet. Good news, though: nothing incredibly odd had happened for the past week.

Until that morning, when Streak walked outside to see the world in the strangest state it has ever been in. The sky was pink, the sun and the moon appeared to be doing the cha cha across the sky, and the ground was coated in a checkerboard pattern. He blinked slowly, taking in the chaos outside. A quick glance showed him dancing buffalo, long-legged bunnies, and floating houses turned upside down.

The door slammed shut. “Change!” the stallion yelled into the house. “Did you spike the water supply again?”

“I didn’t do nothin’!” a muffled, slurred voice shouted from farther inside.

“You did something!” Streak shouted back. “I’m seeing all kinds of weirdness outside!”

“Well, maybe it’s just weird outside!” the drunk said, stumbling into the room. He yanked the door open and groaned. “You have got to be kidding me,” he sighed.

“You see it too?” Streak asked.

“Of course I see it too,” his companion groaned. "He promised. Promised."

"Who promised what?" the blank asked. "What's going on?"

The drunk ignored his friend, instead choosing to storm his way through Ponyville.  Streak shrugged and walked along behind Change. While they were heading through the town, the blank noticed terrified faces sticking out of houses at the two of them passed. After a few moments, they reached the epicenter of the chaos and found the strangest being Streak had ever seen sitting on an ornate throne, a glass of chocolate milk in his hooves. Paws. Hands. Whatever.

His head was that of a goat, with a single fang in his crooked smile. He had two different types of horns on the top of his head, and his body was an amalgamation of different beasts, from the lion's arm to the dragon's wing. He was cackling madly with glee and more than a bit of insanity. "What. The. Tartarus."

Change wasn't phased by the appearance of this strange creature in the slightest. He stalked up to its throne and hopped up on the arm. Its chuckles faltered as it asked, "What is—" He—his gender confirmed by his voice—yelped as the drunk clamped his teeth on the creature's ear and hopped off the seat. Change walked backwards, dragging the strange creature behind him as he walked to an alley between nearby houses. Streak followed with trepidation.

As soon as the trio was out of public view, Change started shouting at the creature. “You promised! You promised me you were done with this! You said it was in the past!”

“Well, yes, but then I—” he started to say, rubbing his ear.

“No! No excuses!” Change snapped. “I thought I could trust you! What else have you lied to me about? What did you lie to Screwball about?”

“This is the only promise I have broken!” the creature defended himself, holding his claws up in front of his body in a defensive position. “Every single one is still being followed faithfully. I wouldn’t dream of hurting you or your sister.”

Streak blinked. Sister? This was new.

“You just did!” the drunk shouted, stomping his hoof on the ground to accentuate his point. “You just freaking did! I can’t believe you anymore. Any word out of your mouth has to be examined for lies now! Every. Single. Word.”

“I had a good reason,” the chaotic creature exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide. “There is a method to my madness, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you,” Change said softly, sitting down. “I can’t anymore.”

“The Queen is making her move,” the creature said.

“You told me that the loss of her husband would delay her by at least half a century.” Change’s eyes hardened. “You told me that Equestria would be safe for my lifetime, and at least half of the lifetime of my children.”

“I was wrong. It accelerated the process by an order of magnitude,” the creature said, settling down on the ground next to Change. “Instead of taking a hundred years to prepare, she finished in ten. She’s going to hit in the next year.”

The drunk jumped up, stumbling slightly. “Why don’t we just tell the Princesses? They can do something about it!”

“What is going on here?” Streak finally asked. His voice seemed to jolt the duo out of their conversation, and they beheld their eavesdropper for the first time that night. “Who and what are you?”

“I,” the creature said, standing up and placing a claw over his heart, other hand going out wide, “am Discord. I am the freedom of the wind, I am the relentlessness of the waves, I am the hunger of the fire. Anything that is, is me.”

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” Change asked. He turned to face his friend. “This is Discord, as he said. He is pandemonium personified, a living conduit of chaos. Everything that happens where two or more outcomes were possible is him.”

“I am your job, I am your encounter with Derpy and Gilda, and I am your friendship with Luna,” the newly-dubbed Discord said. “Snarl of substance, at your service.”

“He is also the manticore that chased you into town, the animals that ran from Fluttershy at the Gala, and the timberwolves that nearly ate you alive,” Change commented dryly, earning the conduit of chaos a glare.

He held his claws up in the same defensive position as before. “There is only so much I could do there,” he said. “Free will is a finicky thing. One day you can get some dumb creature to not eat six stupid mares that bother it, and the next it decides to just eat the pony anyway."

“Whatever,” Streak scoffed. “I assume that you’re the worker of the weirdness around us?”

“Of course,” he said, sounding hurt that Streak had to ask. “Who else could it be?”

“I know some ponies that are capable of something like this,” Streak said. “It wouldn’t be too hard to pump hallucinogens through the entire town, after all.”

“This isn’t a hallucination,” Discord said, frowning. “This is chaos, and it’s real.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Streak said. “However, I’m going to wake up tomorrow and this will all be gone, won’t it?”

“Of course,” Change said, glaring at the chaotic mish-mash of creatures. “He’ll fix the Element Bearers and be back in stone by sundown—real sundown—won’t you?”

Discord looked down at the pony at his feet. “Of course, Change,” he sighed. “Just for you.”

“I’m serious, Dad,” the pony said, getting a look from the other present pony. “No tricks, no gimmicks, just releasing them from your control and losing.”

“Why of course,” Discord said.

“On purpose,” the newly-dubbed son of chaos said, glaring at his father.

“Fine,” the dejected being said, kicking the ground. “But with my rules.”

“As long as your physical form is back in the statue by sundown and those six mares aren’t traumatized any more than they already will be,,” Change said, “I don’t care how you do it.”

The living totality of turmoil nodded. “Alright. Tell your sister I said hello, would you?”

“You know as well as I do that she got more of you and less of Mother than I did,” Change said. “I couldn’t find her if I tried. I have only enough chaos to make things fall on me and the like.”

“You’d have more chaos if you stopped drinking,” Discord said, giving what could only be described as the ‘dad look’ to his son.

“I drink because I don’t want chaos!” Change snapped at the chaotic being. “I don’t want to be like you! I want to be me! I want to be normal! I. Want. To. Be. A. Pony! Is it that too hard for you to understand?”

There was silence in the alleyway. Streak stared at Change with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Somewhere in the background, there was a rumbling crash as Discord lost control of one of his floating houses, sending it careening into the ground. “I—” the entity of entropy started. “I had no idea.”

“If you had ever paid attention to me,” Change growled, “then you would have already known.” He turned around and started walking off.

“Change!” Discord called out, futilely reaching out a claw at the retreating pony.

He didn’t turn around.

Streak watched as his friend walked away from his father with sadness. Here was a pony that didn’t want to be like his father—a sentiment shared by Streak. The difference between the two of them, is that Change loved his father. It was obvious. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have reacted as badly as he did upon seeing the conduit of chaos. Streak—while he had to give the two of them credit for making him—didn’t love his parents. He couldn’t. That was why he couldn’t let this argument end as it had, only to potentially never be fixed.

“He loves you, you know that?” Streak asked.

“No he doesn’t,” Discord said dejectedly. “He hates me. He wishes that I wasn’t his father, and that he was never my son.”

“No,” Streak said, walking up to the creature. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating when as sad as he was. “I wish I was never my parents’ son, he wishes he was normal. There is a difference.”

Discord scoffed. “And what did your parents do? I have too many things to keep track of to remember them all.”

“They were. . . negligent,” the blank said. “That is beside the point. The point is that I want you to know that even though it might not seem like it, he cares for you.”

Discord sighed. “I didn’t even get to tell him what I wanted him to do, and I don’t think I will, now.”

“You don’t want to be commanding a pony that you want loving you,” I said. “You want to command a pony like me. Lay it on me.”

The conduit of chaos sighed. “I need to do this the old fashioned way, it seems.” Right as Streak was about to ask what he meant, Discord touched his forehead with a finger. The cutie mark-less guardspony’s mind reeled as images flew through his mind. “Hmm,” Discord hummed. “Interesting. You aren’t a pony.” Streak couldn’t even ask what he meant, he only half heard what he said through the tumult of visions flashing across his vision. “Ah, there it is. You are a pony.” There was a pause. “No, you aren’t. Wait! There, you are.” He turned and looked at the pony. “You are one messed up being, I have to say. At least I keep my different parts for a century or two before changing them. You’re what, twenty years old? Keep these for as long as you can, kid.

“Now I can’t have you remembering what just happened,” the personification of pandemonium said as the visions ended. “I’m sorry for this.”

“Sorry for wha—” Streak started, before falling to his side. The last thing he saw was the apologetic look he was given from Change’s father, then he saw nothing.


—*~*~*—


Streak groaned as he woke up. His eyes weren’t open yet, but he could tell it was way too bright in the room for whatever time of day it was. He couldn’t remember being this unhappy with light since he woke up after drinking. Wait, there was that fiasco in Hive. He couldn’t remember being this unhappy with light since waking up in Hive.

“You’re awake,” Change’s voice said from next to him. “Good. I’ll fetch her.”

“Don’t shout,” Streak groaned as the drunk’s voice assaulted his delicate eardrums.

“I’m barely not whispering,” Change sighed. “What did he do to you?

Streak assumed the question was rhetorical, since the hinges sent spikes of pain into his head as Change opened the door. Streak exclaimed, only making the pain in his head worse. He decided that he wasn’t going to make any more noise for as long as he could.

Three seconds later he was proven wrong. Another railroad spike was shoved through his head as the door opened again. He felt the thumps of hoofsteps on hardwood flooring as strong throbs of his head more than he heard them. The next noise made had the most paradoxical mix of feelings Streak had ever encountered. “Are ya alright?” Applejack asked softly. He felt pain from the noise, but he was happy she was there.

He hissed in pain, however, at her voice and hoofsteps. “Fine,” he said, straining to get his voice out without exclaiming.

Her voice was faltering. “Oh, ah’m hurting you,” she said. He could tell from her voice that she was frowning. “Ah’ll just leave ya until yer feelin’ better.”

“No!” he exclaimed, shooting more pain into his head. He winced, then said softer. “No, please stay.”

She sighed. “Ah’m hurtin’ ya, Streak,” she said. “Ah can’t let that happen.”

“Stay,” he begged. “It’s not that bad, and I’m already feeling better.”

He heard her hooves shuffle on the floor for a moment in indecision, before he heard hoofsteps. Forward or backward, he couldn’t tell. After a few seconds, he felt a weight settle onto the bed next to him. He cracked an eye open to see her laying half on the bed, with her back hooves planted on the ground. “If’n it gets too painful for ya, just tell me,” she said upon seeing him wince and close his eyes..

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “What happened to me?”

“Ya don’t know?” she asked in surprise, still managing to keep her voice down.

“No,” he said. “It’s all just. . . blank. I woke up, everything was odd, then nothing.”

“Change said ya talked with Discord after he broke us,” she said softly.

The blank felt his eyes harden. “He did what to you?”

“It’s nothin’,” the farm-mare lied. She was horrible at lying.

Streak cracked an eye again, to see her looking adorable trying not to lie. Her face was screwed up, she was looking to the side, and her eyes were wide open. It was very obvious, even if her voice hadn’t given it away, that she was lying. “You’re lying,” he said. “It bothers you.”

She deflated upon being discovered. “Ah really need ta learn how ta lie,” she grumbled, looking down and frowning.

“No, you don’t,” he said, reaching out a hoof and pushing her face up, locking eyes with her. “You are an honest mare. That is reflected in your inability to lie. You don’t do it a lot, so you can’t. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Ah’m not the one that was bed-ridden for two days,” she said. “Ah don’t know what’s with you and gettin’ into some long sleeps.”

Streak chuckled. “Maybe I’m just waiting for some princess to come and kiss me awake.”

The mare blushed. “Well, ah know a couple of Princesses if’n ya want one.”

I’ve got one right here, he wanted to say. You’re one, at least to me.

Instead, he said, “I’m sure that I’ll be fine.”

Something in her eyes told him that he missed an opportunity that he wouldn’t get back. He wanted to take back what he said, to figure out what he was supposed to say to get rid of that disappointed look in her eyes. Instead, he sat awkwardly as she shuffled her back hooves and tried to think of something to say.

“Try n’ think,” she said suddenly. “Try to remember something about the day Discord was here.. Anything.”

He wasn’t going to try, but since Applejack asked him, he had no choice. He traced the day before Discord arrived. After he reached the end, he started with the beginning of the next day. Right as he started yelling to Change about spiking the water supply, his memory blanked. He focused hard, not wanting to disappoint the mare that mattered most to him. After a moment of trying, he got something.

He remembered a being that was a chaotic mish-mash of creatures. His mind called up many names for this creature. The conduit of chaos, the personification of pandemonium, the snarl of substance, the worker of weirdness, the totality of tumult, and the sultan of swag. The name that stuck out the most in his mind was one word, and didn’t sound like a title. Discord.

Discord looked at him with a disappointed face. “I expected better from you,” he said. “I figured the rumors of who and what I am would keep you from trying to break into the memory lock if its mere existence didn’t already dissuade you.”

He shook his head, before continuing, “These memories are blocked for a reason, Streak. You are not yet ready. You serve a purpose, a purpose that serves Celestia and Luna as much as it serves me.” He paused before smirking. “Also, tell that farmer girl, Applejack or whatever, that she has a nice flank. She’ll love it, trust me.

“But I digress,” the conduit of chaos said. “Even if she does have great flanks. Your time will come, and what I have done to you will become apparent. Don’t prove my trust in you misplaced.”

Change opened his eyes to see them looking right at the bright green eyes of the farm-mare. “Did ya get anything?” she asked.

“He blocked them on purpose,” Streak said. “He said that whatever he did to me is for a purpose that serves the Princesses as much as it serves himself, and when it needs to, his modifications will show.” He frowned. “I’m not happy with how my life has gone. I liked being a pony, and now I’m a freak.”

His head was filled with nothing but pain in the next few moments. After a second or two, it died down to a sharp ache on his cheek. He blinked as he saw the anger in Applejack’s eyes. “You aren’t a freak,” she said confidently. “You are odd, sure, but ya are in no way a freak. Ah don’t want to hear those words from you again, do ya understand me?”

Streak lifted a hoof up to his stinging cheek. She’d hit him. He’d said something that she disagreed with strongly. He couldn’t believe she’d hit him. It was because she thought he was being stupid. No, she’d hit him, that was bad. She had a reason. She’d hit him. She cared for him. She’d hit him.

“Ah’m sorry ah hit you,” she said softly, bringing a hoof up to his cheek. “Ah just couldn’t let ya talk about yerself like that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “Why did you hit me for saying the truth? I’m different. Alien. Freakish.”

“Because ya ain’t,” she said, “and ah wanted to make sure ya understood that. Ya aren’t normal, there’s no denyin’ that. But ya aren’t a freak.”

“I am, Applejack,” I said. “Just look at me! I’m half grey and black, half black and blue! I’m a unicorn that has no idea what to do with his horn because he just got it a week ago! I have this Celestia damned stripe down my damned mane that made my damned life difficult! Nothing about me at this point is normal. Nothing!”

She was silent for a long moment. “Ya aren’t a freak to me,” she said softly. His face fell as she turned around and started to walk away.

Remembering Discord's words, he spoke up. "Applejack?" She turned around. "I can tell you work out."

She stared at him in silence for a moment, before asking, "Of course ah do. What's that got ta do with anythin'?"

"Because it gives you fantastic flanks," he said..

Outside the room, Change had decided that Applejack was likely on her way out, if the second exclamation of pain from the bed-ridden stallion was any indicator. The door opened, and a heavily blushing mare hurried out. She slammed the door behind her and looked over at Change. "Do you think I have nice flanks?" she asked after a slight pause.

"I know better than to answer that question," the stallion said. "Any answer is a wrong answer."

"I'm honestly asking," she said, cheeks still dusted with pink. "Do I really have nice flanks?"

Change sighed. "Do you want me to answer as you want me to, or how will get me slapped?"

"Don't just tell me what I want to hear," she answered.

"They are perfectly perky and superbly spankable," he said. She stared at him for a moment before he added. "You asked for it."

Inside the room, Streak was holding his cheek, shaking his head. Discord had lied to him. He didn't even know why that surprised him, honestly. He heard a smack and a yelp from the other side of the door and smirked. Change made a comment on her flanks.
> Cancelled
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	This story is now cancelled. I've gotten better enough at writing (I like to think) that this story would take too much work to get up to my current standards. As it is, I will take ideas from what I have written and what I was planning on writing and apply them to other stories I write.

To all one of you that was looking for an update on this story, I thank you for enjoying it, and am sorry that I'm not continuing it. I may start a rewrite when my life settles down a bit, but don't hold your breath.

—HB