> Just one of those days > by Commonancestry > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter the first > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As the pandemonium contained within what must’ve been the sketchiest looking bar around raged on, there was only one thought going through my head. It’s amazing how quickly it can turn into one of those weeks. You know the ones, where it doesn’t seem to matter what you do, nothing seems to go right. It’s not like I could’ve even gotten out of the wrong side of the bed or anything. That would usually require a bed to get out of. A glass flying over my shoulder broke me out of my reverie. I must have been out of it for longer than I thought if this brawl is anything to go by. At least I could enjoy some free entertainment for a while. It was in the full swing of things when the pint I’d been carefully nursing for the past half hour or so was knocked out from in front of me by an errant hoof. “Looks like you owe me another drink mate.” I half-joked, turning to face the drunken stallion, who from the look of it was lucky to still be on good terms with his bar stool. “You what?” He slurred back at me, “I don’t take kin’ly to ponies coming round here, tellin’ me what to do.” I could see this ending badly for me, but he’d had a few, so I reckoned my chances were still pretty abysmal. What? I’m a lover not a fighter. “Whoa, easy there big fella, nothing to get worked up about.” I held up my hooves in defence. It took a few seconds for him to respond, but as in insincere grin crossed the stallion’s muzzle, a grimace casually sauntered onto mine. “So you want another drink do you? Here, have mine.” Admittedly I should have seen what he was about to do next coming, and looking back, I should have left the whole situation alone. But as they say, hindsight is 20/20. To be honest, after that it all gets a little fuzzy. All I really remember is feeling wet, before falling back off my bar stool and everything going black. Yeah, I get the feeling that could’ve gone better, but then if it had, I probably wouldn't have been involved. I guess I should probably introduce myself at this point. I’m known as Wind Chaser, and I’m well into my 6th century of being around, though this body looks surprisingly good all things considering. I suppose you could say I’m an old god in a young and mortal body. Or at least semi mortal, it’s gets a bit confusing. My past is a convoluted tale of deception, shrouded by the mists of time, surrounded by mystery’s the likes of which no being has heard for decades. However, the most important part of all this, the one key feature that my life boils down to is that I’m bucking with you. Seriously, the number of tales that start off with that crap just isn’t funny anymore. Anyhow, my name really is Wind Chaser. Quite creative for a Pegasus, don’t you think? Granted, I always thought your name had something to do with your talent, but clouds and engineering don’t really have much in common. Maybe there was a crossed line somewhere, and there’s a weather pony called Ratchet or something. Anyway, I’m in my early 20’s and whilst growing up I could say that I had a fairly normal upbringing. An over protective mother, an emotionally distant Father, two annoying as hell sisters coupled with one hell of a middle child syndrome and not much of a job to speak of. Not exactly out there when it comes to your bizarre upbringings, right? At least I’d be able to get away from it all for a few days whilst I was on vacation. Well, vacation might have been a bit of a strong word. Usually a vacation is one with a bit of forethought and planning, a bit of time away from the job and into new surroundings. Granted, I’d had to vacate the area pretty damn quick after the last incident, but I still don’t think that gives me enough reason to call this a vacation. > Chapter number 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I’ve always found the serene blue walls they have in hospitals a touch off putting, though I can’t say I’ve ever been able to put my hoof on why. I get that it’s supposed to help calm people down, and alleviate stress, but everywhere? Just creeps me out a bit. At least it’s not something bright and happy; I don’t think my head could handle it. What the hell was I drinking last night? Somehow the party thundering on in my head seems to have got a hold of it, whatever it was. I just wish I was invited. The steady rhythmic tapping of hooves coming down the corridor helped to convince myself that I should get up. A splitting pain in my right wing and a worsening headache made me realise that’s not the best idea I’ve had all week. Not the worst by a long way I’ll grant you, but most certainly not the best. The door into my room opens up, followed by an off white mare in a nurse’s cap. Going from the cap and massive red cross on her flank, I’m going to assume that she’s not the janitor. I tried to sit up and get her attention, but it turned out that the mother and father of all headaches seemed to have taken up residence in my brain, and I could almost hear the tiny pitter-patter of baby headaches on the way. “Unnnghh… My head.” I slumped back down onto the pillow. Well that was dignified. “Ah so he’s alive. How are we feeling this morning?” Going from her tone, this conversation wasn’t exactly going to be a fun one. I glowered at her until she got the message. “Not much of a talker then. Well, I’m Nurse Redheart, and as you may have already guessed from the title, I’m not exactly the janitor round here.” I knew it! “You got brought in last night after getting in a fight with a bar stool and losing, and then taking it out on the floor. Somehow you almost broke your wing and knocked yourself out in the process. Let’s just say you’re lucky it was your wing that broke the fall instead of that pretty little face of yours.” That would explain the pain back there. I sat up a little and tried to look half awake. “Couple that with the fact that your previous injuries were on their way to healing nicely, it looks like you’re going to be grounded for a while.” “Give it to me straight nurse; will I ever be able to play the violin again?” “That depends; could you play it before?” “Well no, but how hard can it be right?” Well I tried to lighten the mood, honest. “So how about it doc, how long have I got to stay here like this?” “Firstly, I’m not a doctor; I actually work for a living. And secondly a couple more days at most. Just enough to ensure there’s no lasting damage to your wing, and that everything else is on its way to healing nicely. I reckon no longer than a week preferably. I’d rather you stay in discomfort for a day or two than end up falling from 2,000 hooves up.” “Sound good to me.” If nothing else, she makes a valid point. “Oh, and while I’m at it, no trying to escape. If you want to leave, just sign yourself out, like a normal pony would.” Escape? Who the hell would want to escape an oppressively clinical room, with a lumpy and uncomfortable bed, attractive nurses with a misunderstanding of correct bedside manner, and the possibility of what some might consider food three times a day. Actually I take that first part back. “Why would I try and escape? Seriously who-“ “Just don’t ask.” She interrupted, “Let’s just leave it at some Pegasus have a slightly overactive imagination about these things. Lunch will be delivered here shortly, and dinner at around 6pm if you feel up to walking to the canteen at that point.” “Well thanks for the offer, and I’m not usually one to turn down a free meal, but I think I’ll be off. I don’t do well staying in one place for too long.” I tried getting up, but my back had other plans, and the family of headaches seemed have invited the neighbours round for dinner and drinks. At that point my stomach decided to get in on the action, and grumbled away loudly. “Actually on second thought, maybe I’ll stick around for a little longer. Can’t hurt to try being patient for once, right? No pun intended.” Pun most definitely intended. “Just wait until you see the food. You might have second thoughts about staying too much longer. Well, I best be off, but if you need anything use the call button.” Without even waiting for a response, she left me alone with my thoughts. I could stay here for a couple days, maybe a week tops. It’s not like I’ve got any pressing matters or plans of which to speak. At that point an orderly knocked on the door. “Lunch.” I got the feeling this guy was a real talker. I nodded hesitantly, bearing Nurse Redheart’s warning about the food in mind. The orderly set the tray on the table and moved it across my lap, then walked off without a word. I studied the plate carefully, trying to ascertain what culinary delight I was in store for. Apparently, beige was now a food group. Boiled potatoes, parsnips, and a light brown sauce all blended quite artfully into one bland mess. Yeah, this was going to be a fun stay. > The Third Chapter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As I stumbled out of the hospital doors, I felt little more normal than I had for a few days. Is it weird that I felt proud to have lasted 3 days inside? The beds were comfy with a hangover and thumping headache, in the same way that a drunk can fall asleep while taped upside down to a tree and still claim to be comfy. The food was passable as well, though I’ve never seen so many different ways of cooking potatoes in such a short period. I mean, what the hell are Chechski or Tsar Niklas potatoes? Turns out they’re both chips. The worst part though was the mind numbing tedium. I’ve never been so bored in my entire life, and that’s including Ms. Bradcrumble’s Equiish lessons. Her lessons lead to me often considering chewing my own leg off like a coyote stuck in a trap. It wouldn’t help mind you, but it might’ve eased the boredom somewhat. I’d barely had a chance to look around the town before me and gravity had a disagreement in that bar. It seemed a fairly nice place all things considered, though a bit small and pokey for my liking. Guess that’s what happens when you hop on the midnight train out of town going anywhere. And before you ask, I am not a city stallion, I was neither born nor was I raised in South Detrot. Damn Journeigh, making ridiculously catchy music. At this point, I had no idea what I was going to do until it had all calmed down back home. I reckoned another week or so, and it all should’ve blown over. Possibly. Well, probably not, but enough that I wouldn’t be stoned on sight. Not with very big ones anyway, unless the Mayor got involved. It was only a small explosion anyway. It’s not like there’d be any permanent physical damage to anyone but me, and even I was starting to get better. Not far from the hospital was a rather pleasant looking park, dotted with a number of benches. Looks like my afternoon just planned itself out quite nicely. I took of my saddle bags, and slumped myself down on one of said benches and adopted the position. No not that one, I’m neither a mare nor that flexible. Though it was only a bench, I was grateful for anything other than that damned hospital bed. If I can find hard wood more pleasurable than those beds, that’s saying something. And get your mind out of the gutter. Filthy buggers. As I lay on my back, I thought about the past week. It hadn’t been a catastrophic failure, but it’d been damn close to one. I guess it all started with the run in with the Mayors daughter, Melody. Voice of an angel, flanks of an Alicorn, brains the size of an abnormally fleshy walnut. I’m not calling her stupid, not at all; she’s probably considered very intelligent in some walks of life. It's just that those walks of life don't appreciate some of the finer things in life, such as mathematics, and art, and polysyllabic words. Anyway, from what I can tell, she’s a bit of a fan of mine. The only issue is her Mother, who also happened to be the Mayor of my little suburban paradise. Lovely mare, no issues with her, especially as she’s the only one who signs my pay cheque at the end of the week for fixing a few things. She just doesn’t like her daughter lusting after a handsome stallion that barely brings home enough haybacon at the end of the day for breakfast the morning after. Granted last week was my fault for any number of reasons. Not setting an alarm is never a good start, or even staying at all after dancing the sideways samba is often a mistake. Hell, even following my bosses daughter home after a night out was a bad idea. But still, there was no reason to blow up on me. It’s just a good thing the window was open, though I will have to have a word with whoever has been strategically placing thorn bushes outside of 1st floor windows of late. It’s unpleasant and unnecessary, even if it did break my fall. A singular drop of freezing rain, landing square on my muzzle broke me out of my revisiting of the past week or so. Another followed swiftly, closely followed by another dozen or so before I realised how much the wind had picked up. I opened my eyes, and studied the skies. Hadn’t it been sunny before I came out of the hospital? Or at least slightly overcast. And where the hell had all this wind come from? I looked around the now deserted park, noticing the miniature dust devils being whipped around on the path. A piece of paper, carefully stapled to a tree broke off in the wind and decided it wanted to be a new and slightly comical addition to my face. After peeling it from my cheek, I studied the bold and self-important looking words. STORM SCHEDULED FOR 1500 ON THE 15th THROUGH TO 0600 THE FOLLOWING MORNING. ALL ARE ADVISED TO STAY INDOORS DURING THIS PERIOD. I could be wrong, but wasn’t today the 15th? And going from the rain, winds, and impending sense of doom, I would’ve put money on it being around 3pm. How convenient of that note to pop into existence now, and not an hour so ago. “Well this week couldn’t really get any worse now, could it?” I muttered quietly to no one in particular, almost as if I were trying not to catch the skies attention. As soon as the words had left my mouth, I heard a faint grumble in the distance. It built steadily, like a landslide careening down a mountain starts with just a few loose pebbles. The thunder rolled over head, spreading like a tidal wave of noise. It subsided, leaving nothing but that eerie silence that pervades in the calm before a storm really gets into the swing of things. I slid off the bench, and was just starting to put my saddle bags on when the sky exploded. The lightning was both blinding and deafening. “I just had to say it, didn’t I?!” I screamed at myself, as I ran as fast as an temporarily crippled Pegasus could. “I had to go and say the worst possible phrase a pony can ever say in any situation!” You know when I said it was turning out to be one of those weeks? Looks like it wasn’t going to stop any time soon. > Chaptero Numero 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I pegged it through the streets trying to find somewhere, anywhere to hide or shelter from the rain for a while at least. Up ahead I could see a massive tree with the lights on. That should have struck me odd, considering I’ve yet to find a tree-dwelling pony, but given some of the stranger looking structures in this part of the world; I can’t say I felt all that surprised. Hell, I could’ve sworn I’d passed a massive ginger bread house back there, and I distinctly remember passing a circus tent like structure in town somewhere. As I got closer to the tree, I saw a door shaped light shining through a space near the base of the tree. Either somepony really did live in that tree, or I wasn't actually over my concussion just yet. Through the torrential downpour I heard a voice yell out. “Hey over here! What do you think you’re doing outside in this weather? Get inside quick!” I didn’t need telling twice. I bolted over to the door, eager to get of the this damned storm. However, given my less elegant nature, and eternal disagreement with gravity, my hoof rather neatly caught on the door mat, sending me bowling into a very purple mare. If I could have planned the exceptionally compromising position that we ended up in, I’d have some very marketable skills indeed. I looked up from my compromising position, and my still addled brain decided on my best course of action. With an eyebrow cocked, and a devilish smirk spread across my mouth, and elegant phrase that had done so much for in the past, raised it's ugly head to my lips. "Well hey, how you doing?". From the look on my new acquaintances face, I was edging ever closer to being magicked somewhere less comfortable. Tartarus perhaps. Maybe the goddessless wastes of the Everfree Forest? All I could be certain of was the fact that I'd once again, been heartily thrown back into the mixing bowl of life, and already had the bruises to prove it. A sudden glowing sensation, coupled with a sudden and slightly violent discorporeal feeling, I found myself the right way up and not 10 foot from where I had been previously straddled by an angry purple mare, now standing a mere five foot away from me, covered in a rather bulky looking jumper. I made eye contact, and immediately regretted the decision. I could feel her eyes boring into my very being, the anger of a vengeful god building inside her. My brain kicked into gear, informing me that it should do the talking for the moment, while I sat there and looked pretty; a task which it informed me was no mean feat. "Well you know what they say about first impressions, right?". Really Brain? That's the best you could come up with? "Most probably, but I feel you should enlighten me anyway. And if you even consider pulling any of that 'How you doing' crap, you'll find your life takes a turn for the colder, wetter, and stormier." Before I could answer, I heard the tapping of what sounded like tiny claws on the wooden floors coming from behind me. I spun around to see a rather small and stocky, purple Dragon. "Hey Twi, what was with all that noise? And who is this guy?" "I'm just about to find that out Spike. Now, how about you start by telling me what on earth you were doing out there at a time like this?" Oh how I wish I could just speed things up by showing her the last few chapters, but such is the life of a dashing rogue like myself. "Well for starters, my name is Wind Chaser, and I'm an alcoholic." "Hello Wind Ch-" A quick glare from the unicorn silenced the baby dragon before he could finish. "OK, so let me start by saying this week has been one of the most bizarre and painful of my life. To cut a short story shorter: I'm on a forced vacation from home; jumped on a train bound anywhere far away; have just got out of your local hospital, which is the second one I've been in this week; and hadn't realised that there was going to be a storm today. I'm soaked through, grounded, in pain, and could really do with someone pointing me in the direction of a local hotel, bed and breakfast, bedsit, homeless shelter or bus shelter, preferably in that order," Ok, so I guess I wasn't dealing with this as well I could have been, but these things just build up on us from time to time, "Though I do have two quick questions for you. A, Who are you and why do you live in a tree? And B, how did you even see me out there?" "But that's three questions?" Turns out Spike was an observant one. I'd have to be careful around this genius. "Not important." I turned to the unicorn in question. "So any chance of an answer? Or at least some directions so I can get out of your mane. Oh and I'm not actually an alcoholic if that helps things get along any faster." "Right, well I guess it'd be rude of me not to help out a little, even if you did knock me over and hit on me. My name is Twilight Sparkle. I live in this tree because it's also a Library, and I'm the Librarian, as appointed by Princess Celestia and Mayor Mare. Finally, I saw you out there because I was working on some equipment on the balcony. Happy?" "Wait, you're Twilight Sparkle? The Twilight Sparkle?" There's no way she could be the newest Princess. I mean, where were her wings? "No I'm just a Twilight Sparkle, didn't you hear? We come in pack of six." The snark was strong with this one. "As in Princess Twilight Sparkle? But where are your wings?" Yes, I know, 'Oh my Goddess Wind Chaser, you can't just ask somepony where are there wings?', but it's a legitimate question. "Yes, as in Princess Twilight Sparkle. And as for the wings to prove it..." Yet another quick flash from her horn and her overly bulky jumper disappeared in the aether. Without missing a beat, she stood tall and proud, and stretched her magnificent wings out behind her. Lightning flashed through the windows as her wings reached there full extent. Even in the well lit room, she seemed to radiate light from behind her, though this trick was somewhat ruined by the fact I could see Spike holding a torch behind her. Still, B- for the effort, just lacking in execution. "OK, not bad. Not bad at all. The lightning was a little unnecessary though. Anyway, now we're done with the introductions, any chance you could at least point me in the right direction when you kick me out?" "However much I'd like to kick your arse out of my house-" "Treehouse." "Not helping, but thank you Spike, the only b and b round here is a good hour or so walk away. Given your current state of broken, I'm going to reckon that it won't do you much good. So, here's the deal. You get to stay the night in the guest room, but are gone once the weather has settled down tomorrow. Deal?" "Deal." "Ok. Spike, show him where the Guest room is. I've still got a lot of work to finish up." > 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I followed Spike into the guest bedroom, which was surprisingly comfy for a guest room. Granted my perspective on what was comfy and what wasn't had been shifted rather dramatically over the past few days, so anything including a room with a bed in it would be fairly luxurious. "So then, my little draconic amigo, what's the deal with her royal highness out there? Is she usually this catty?" "Nah, she's usually a lot friendlier than this. It's just this big project she's been working on. It was supposed to be complete before the storm, but there's still a few bits left to do and she's been freaking out over it for days." "What sort of Project are we talking about here? If it's big for a Princess, then hell, it's got to be pretty damn impressive." "Yeah, it's fairly important and all, but I'm not sure I'm the one who should be talking about it. It's been kept on the down low as much as possible. I'm not sure why though." "Well do you reckon she'd mind me having a look? I know my stuff when it comes to it." At that moment, the purple unicorn in question strode through the door. I guess there's only a few walks you can do once you're royalty. "Have a look at what exactly?" "How about I have a look at your machine? I'm not too shabby at fiddling with things and stuff." "What? No offence, but you're a pegasus? Named wind chaser?" "Yes, the irony isn't lost on me Purple. I'm good with machines and equipment, and especially good at tinkering. It's basically my special talent." "Well that would explain the cutie mark. But this is some fairly advanced technology. I'm not sure you'll even know what half the stuff does. I'm not sure even I do at times. Oh, and it's Lavender. Not Purple." "I could at least take a look? Think of it as a way of making it up to you for earlier today." "I'll think about it. Maybe tomorrow morning if I've got time for more of your shenanigans." Ahh, morning. That disgustingly early time of the day, when Celestia's sun is shining through the window, accompanied by a sweet chorus of songbirds creating a melody sweet enough to give the majority of those within audible range type II diabetes. Or at least that's how it's supposed to be in these things right? The wind still howling as the rain spat itself against the walls of the tree. The odd crash of thunder rolling through the murky deep of the sky above. The almost rhythmic clanking and swearing of somepony who obviously doesn't understand proper working hours. As I hauled myself out of a ludicrously warm and comfy bed, I received a sudden and sharp reminder of my injuries from the past few days. My wing still hurt like hell, and my back ached to high heavens. So at least I could hope for some averaging out on the pain scale today. After stretching out my sore joints, and whilst trying not to sound like an old stallion who's past his prime, I decided to investigate the mysterious banging noise. Just off the top of the stairs, was what I could only assume was Twilight's room. The language coming from within was enough to impress a sailor, but the faint smell of burning, and the light sizzling of sparks made me realise that things weren't going as planned. I knocked on the door emphatically on the door frame, but realising she wouldn't be able to hear me, entered, and was allowed a rather lovely spectacle of a 'Lavender' Unicorns rear thrust high in the air, whilst the owner of said derriere was neck deep in a large box shaped box. "Now I could be wrong, but..." A rather satisfying thump came from within the box, followed by further mutterings and vulgarities, as the Princess jumped from my unannounced presence. "...I'm going to guess that it shouldn't be sparking and smoking quite like that. In fact smoking indoors is considered quite uncouth these days, so to do it in the presence of a Princess." The Lavender unicorn carefully removed her head from the box. "Hilarious. And who told you, that you could come in to my room without permission?" "Spike?" I offered as an acceptable answer. "Of course. Entirely believable. Apart from the fact that he's still passed out over there in his bed. Care to try again?" Her face carried the look of somepony who had no issue with banishing me to the moon, and knew she'd be able to get away with it, no matter how many meddling kids got involved. "Me?" Though honesty isn't my usual policy, a pissed off Alicorn with nothing to prove probably won't like being lied to twice in as many statements. "Yes, I'd thought as much. And no, you're bloody well right it shouldn't be smoking like that. I can't get it to run right. Every time I hook it up, it just burns itself out completely and almost fries the entire circuit. I've had to replace pretty much everything in this circuit at least twice now." "Well I'm not a genius when it comes to this sort of stuff-" "No debate there." "But," I continued firmly, "I could take a look if you want? Get a second pair of eyes on it all? You did say you might let me help out, and I do owe you one for last night." "I'm not sure if I should be letting you take a look at this. Given you're evident run of luck of late, I can't imagine that you'll do any good." Realising I was getting nowhere fast, I resorted to a personal favourite tactic of mine. Cue the Puppy Dog eyes, and let fly the guilt. "Well, ok then. If you're sure. I mean I was only trying to help you out." I hope that came out as pathetically as possible. I'm not pleased with some of my more underhand tactics, but by the Goddesses they get results. "Fine, but don't do anything without asking me first, it's quite a highly sophisticated piece of equipment and exceptionally sensitive, not to mention-" My head was already halfway inside the machine before she'd finished saying the first word. I'll be honest here, it was a mess, but an organised one. True organised Chaos if ever I did see it. Though the problem with organised chaos is that it's hard for you to see your own mistakes. "Done." "What do you mean done? How can you possibly be done? I've been trying to make it work for three days now, and you're done in less than a minute? How?" "Oh I just fiddled a bit and switched these two cables around, I figured you just had it connected wrong. What is it even meant to do?" Thunder rolled in the background, as the rain continued to throw itself at the window. Was it just me or did this storm feel like it was building to a head? "How did you know that I had them connected up wrong?" "I looked at the letters painted on them. Also, the one on the right is three times larger and has a different connection point, but that's neither here nor there. But that doesn't answer my first question. What's meant to do?" "It's part of a control mechanism for a machine I'm using downstairs, that harnesses natural sources of energy, in this case lightning, to teleport items over medium length distances, without the use of magic. It's more of a proof of concept than anything. This part in particular makes sure the system doesn't overload itself. " "So it's a safety mechanism then? Ensuring that it doesn't blow up." "Yes, pretty much. Why?" "No reason. Hypothetically speaking, what would happen if the feedback system were to be removed and the system were to activate and get hit by lightning?" "There's no telling really. The amount Thaumaturgic materials contained within this machine is fairly high. Best case scenario, we get teleported hundred of miles away, with no knowing where or how long it would take, and end up with all our pieces in the right place. Worst case scenario, everything in the universe dies a horrific and fiery death. But that's a purely hypothetical scenario you just presented right?" "Yes, of course. Who would do something so foolish and idiotic and downright stupid, and yes I did remove it. I've doomed us all haven't I?" Thunder rumbled angrily in the background, steadily increasing, as if building itself up for another burst of lightning. "YOU REMOVED IT? I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU TO TOUCH ANYTHING! WHY DID YOU REMOVE IT?" "Because it was the only thing stopping it from working and I have issues with authority and pretty much zero impulse control. How have you not realised this yet? Look, can't I just put it back before-" CRACK "-that happens. Right now what?" Lightning must have struck the weather vane again, as the two cable that I had corrected started to glow, and the entire box vibrated like it was designed to give somepony a good time. Smoke started pouring out of it, the various relays failing, whilst even two floors below us, we could hear the whine of the machine in the basement starting to overload. "Can't we run down and shut it off? Surely that would the sensible idea right now." I'll admit, I was panicking now. I'm too pretty to die. I mean look at this chiseled jaw, how could fate let that go to waste? "Maybe? I don't know, this was never supposed to happen. We might be alright, unless we get hit by another lightning strike. I'm going to go and see what I can do down below. Stay here. And for the love of the Goddesses, don't touch anything else!" Faster than I thought was possible, Twilight was downstairs and struggling to open the door to the basement. I limped down the stairs as fast as I could, my various aches and pains only mildly by the adrenaline running through my veins in the face of doom. I hit the door just as Twilight turned to buck the door in. *CRACK* The door barely budged. Looks like Alicorn strength is not all it's cracked up to be. "Can't you just teleport us down there?" "With a Thaum field this powerful and unpredictable surrounding us? Not a chance. That'd end badly. Really bucking badly. Why are you still here?" "Yes that probably makes sense. And are you kidding? This is awesome. Almost certainty of Death, versus a slim chance of survival. How could I refuse?" "Bucking madman. Right on three. One. Two. Thr-" *CRACK* Remember that time I decided to remove the feedback circuit? Because I'm getting the distinct idea that I shouldn't have done that.