> Nopony Cares About Displaced > by Shocks > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Like, at all. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a bright and shining morning in Ponyville. Celestia’s sun hung in the sky, the land basking in the calm and soothing rays of heat. Birds flew across the sky, and ponies went about their business as usual, the nice day bringing about more activity than usual. Truly, this day couldn’t- “I am fiyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!! I am death!!!!” the shout rose across the town, accompanied by a giant fireball that blasted into the sky. And this was why Ponyville couldn’t have nice things. The source originated inside the market section of the little village, shopkeepers and shoppers alike stopping what they were doing to direct their attention at the source of the event. A human once again stood in the middle of the trading square, a raggedy set of red and brown clothing barely covering his rather toned chest. Thank Celestia this one actually had pants on though. The human moved a hand through his short, cropped black hair, swishing his head to the side like he was a model or some shit. “Ha! Am I hot enough for you?” He stated aloud, his pun oh so fucking clever. Silence greeted him for a moment as ponies looked to each other, as if waiting for someone to make the first move. Then, well… “Seen it all before.” “Really? We’re still doing this?” “Who cares?” “Wow. Much original. Great words.” “You suck!” Whatever this human was expecting, this berating was certainly not it, his mouth open in plain shock at the ponies around him. As his small fragile mind tried to reset, the colorful equines went about their business, the background noise of conversation quickly sweeping over the market again. All except for the human with the wicked red scar on his face and his out of place rags of clothing. Like shit homey, you ain’t gettin no tail with that outfit. Get it? Cause horse women. … No? … Well fuck you that’s funny. Now the wayward human had finally come to the obvious conclusion as his mind finally restarted. Clearly, these ponies were assholes. Like, for real. How could they hate on him for having kick ass fire bending abilities? They must be haters. Yeah, fucking haters. It wasn’t even like he was doing anything wrong, after all, what sane person wouldn’t fuck around with the crazy ass powers they just inherited out of nowhere. Right? He had to show them his awesomeness and cleanse these fucking heretics with as many dank memes as possible. Luckily, fate smiled down on him, as a particular mint green unicorn was walking nearby with that background pony nobody cared about. He suddenly sprinted up to her, catching the mare in mid conversation with Bun Buns or Sugar Tits or whatever she was called. “Yo Lyra!” He explained, somehow knowing this pony’s name despite having never met her. The unicorn glanced up surprised, her talk with her friend ending as the other cream colored pony glared angrily at the biped. Must be a hater. “…Yes?” Lyra asked, her expression turning neutral as she regarded the biped. That was when he proceeded to be a creep and invade the mare’s personal space by shoving his hands in her face, Lyra reeling to avoid them touching her. “Yo! Check out these babies! Pretty crazy huh?!” The human explained, wiggling his fingers as his eyebrows bounced suggestively. The mint green unicorn switched between looking at the man’s hands and his face, her look almost bored. “…And?” she finally asked, one eyebrow raised. He almost lost his shit. Lyra, not wanting hands? Hands were like crack to Lyra! Filthy, addictive, OD in a seven eleven’s bathroom crack! “But-but they’re hands! You love hands!” He stated, causing an eye roll from the mare. “Have you ever heard of the saying ‘too much of a good thing’? Yeah, it’s kinda like that.” Lyra confessed, as Booty Buns or whatever muttered angrily under her breath. “Except it was barely good to begin with.” It was like someone had punched him in the gut, or maybe remarked on how mentally unstable he was. Lyra not into hands? Ponies not totally admitting he was MLG? He hadn’t even started making references and memes that they couldn’t possibly understand! There was only one option he could possibly fathom at this moment. Sit down and think rationally for a second? Pffff. Son, where you been all these months? There was only one conclusion here. He had to burn it down. Burn it all down. This Equestria had to burn in hell, with all its fucked-up…ness. Because clearly, he was in the right here and the ponies were in the wrong. Yeah. He smiled at the genocidal thoughts. Yes, future generations would thank him for his sacrifice. He took a battle stance instantly; his palms open as he summoned twin fireballs into his hands. The flames grew by the second as his hands crafted a literal ball of flame, the ponies around him ignoring the spectacle and only really commenting on the ambient increase in temperature. Lyra and Willy Wonka took several steps back from the rising inferno, the flames licking the edge of the ground now. However, despite the immediate danger, they carried bored expressions, looking more annoyed at being forced back than anything. In addition, three familiar fillies had suddenly appeared to roast marshmallows over the open flames, letting out a collective sigh when their sugary goodness was engulfed in the fireball. He laughed manically at his glorious victory over evil. Truly, he was the white knight in all of this. Up until a voice politely coughed near him. “Could you stop doing that for a second? That’d be great.” He turned; ready to smite this heathen with all the force of a fire bender. Which actually wasn’t that much, but hey. Ego. So it was only natural for his fireball to completely cancel out at the sight of the police woman standing barely ten feet from him, the cop dressed in a near match of any earth uniform, minus the gun of course. Because, you know, ponies. And hot damn, was she hot. Just like the pervert he was, his eyes instantly narrowed in on the globes of sweater meat that were tightly outlined by the woman’s uniform. Just, damn, the curvature was fucking godlike as the mamarries jutted out from her chest, at least a 38 double D if not E! They way the navy fabric hugged her chest was incredible and the rest of the uniform didn’t disappoint! Those fine, fiiine legs ran all the way up to hips that could shoot kids out by the dozen, and an ass that redefined bubble butt. So of course, with all this to take in, he was blind to the fact her eyes were a lovely shade of blue, or that her short cut blond hair barely touched her neckline below her officer’s cap. Nor did he notice the three other ponies that were flanking her, all stallions dressed in matching uniforms with mustaches to rival Friedrich Nietzsche’s in bushyness. Like, there was probably a long lost village in those things It took the now distracted human several moments before he snapped out of his drunken haze, blinking as the woman snapped her fingers loudly. “Hey, mind telling me what you think your're doing?” She asked, placing a hand on her hip as she shifted on her feet, the sway causing slight movement in her awesome bosom. He finally looked at her face, the no nonsense expression contrasting with the woman’s perfect skin and beautiful face. Come to think of it, she looked familiar. It took the human less than a second to shout his thoughts like an idiot. “You’re Powergirl!” He stated, pointing at the woman. Pshh. Pointing. His momma be ready to beat his ass from the next dimension over. ‘Powergirl’ groaned, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. This only seemed to make the human more excited. “I knew it! That rack, those hips, that ass, you-“ “Ok. First off, I’m going to stop you before you say anything else overly stupid.” Her tone was fucking imperious. “Secondly, my name is Rebecca Johnson.” She glared at him, crossing her arms under her chest. Seriously, that rack tho. He looked on stunned. This did not compute. She was like him, transformed as well, so why wasn’t she taking the name of her character?! “But you are Powergirl!” He challenged, “Just like I’m Zuko! Fire bending master!” At this, he struck a badass pose that no doubt earned several oohs and awws. The ponies around him where just so thunderstruck that their voices came out to low to hear. “No, you’re not.” Rebecca pinched her nose again. “You just look like him.” “Duh, that means I am hi-“He was cut off when Powergirl raised her hand at him. “No, it doesn’t.” She started. “Just because you look like him doesn’t make you him.” She waved her hand in the air, trying to gather her thoughts. “Think about it like this. Do you consider an impostor or impersonator the actual person they look like? No. You know they aren’t them because of the simple fact that they are two different people. Look alike yes, but they are different. The impostor can never be the person they’re impersonating because they don’t have everything that makes that person themselves, a unique, and separate individual. Do you get what I’m saying to you?” Rebecca asked hopefully, a smile actually coming across her face as she finished. A silence descended over the area. Then… “That’s stupid as shit yo.” Rebecca’s smile was crushed into little, little pieces that ended up being so small they somehow managed to become the largest parts of the universe. Or something. The stallions at her side shifted, their moustaches twitching dangerously. The woman was about to fire a remark when the radio at her chest suddenly buzzed with a voice. “Uh, Officer Johnson?” the comm crackled, a young male voice coming through. Without taking her eyes off the other human across from her, she grabbed her radio carefully. “Yes, what is it?” She asked quickly. “Umm…not to interrupt anything…but…uh…Batman got out again.” The voice spoke again, causing an indignant squawk from the woman; the movement making her tits jiggle ever so tantalizingly. “How does he keep getting out?!” She yelled into the radio, which was answered almost immediately by a deep masculine voice that honestly sounded like said person had a sore throat . “Because I’m Batman!” this was quickly followed by muffled yells and the sounds of struggle, the woman shutting off the machine to avoid unnecessary noise. She now glared at ‘Zuko’, shifting her arms under her chest again. “Ok, I’m really not in the mood now. So, are you going to come quietly, or are we going to have to do things the hard way?” At this, the police ponies around her drew their batons, ready and willing. Zuko smiled cockily like the smug bastard he was. “Bitch please, hasn't anyone ever told you, when you play with fire...” He formed twin fireballs, cocking a cocky eyebrow, “…You’re going to get burned?”. You know, they were actually planning on going easy on him. But that pun? That cute little fucking pun? Yeah. No. Funny thing, just like on Earth, Equestria had police brutality. #Displacedlivesmatter He was thrown to the cell floor. Hard. Because, you know, he was kind of a scumbag and had it coming. Twisting around quickly, he made a lunge for the sliding door just as it closed. Naturally, he missed, slamming his head into the metal bars with an audible clang. Cradling his head and hissing in pain, the guy calling himself Zuko yelled at the asshole guard ponies for doing their jobs. “You think this is over?! Huh?! No pathetic box can hold me!” His shout was met with a snort of amusement. “It’s a cell, not a box.” The nearest guard stated matter-of-factly. “Aaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!” the human screamed like a little child who’s manhood hadn’t properly dropped and proceeded to have a major bitchfit, full of angry fire bending and lots of unmanly crying. Finally though, he ran out of energy, falling back onto the hard floor with a sigh, his chest heaving with exhaustion. “Wow. Was I that bad? I mean, holy fuck, that was kind of sad to watch. Like an angry old man that’s fallen and everyone’s just like, fuck that, asshole can pick himself up.” ‘Zuko’ craned his head back to find- Someone in a wheelchair. With a white, full body cast like the guy had just tried to fight Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris at the same time, thinkin he was all tough and shit. And wearing a Spiderman mask, the costume it’s rich black coloration when the symbiote had taken over. “Sup.” Spiderman said eloquently, the other human tried to find words to express his surprise. “What…? You in jail too?” ‘Zuko asked, because, you know, the jail cell wasn’t any indication. “Naw, I’m just visiting.” Spidey rolled his eyes, the move of course going unnoticed because masks. “What…what did you do?” Zuko questioned again, still trying to recover from his little cryfest. “Ehhhhh….” Spiderman started, looking up toward the ceiling. “Let’s just say it involved webbing, a camera, and Princess Luna’s snatch. Suffice to say, she was not overly pleased with my article on ancient tombs.” The two stayed in silence for several moments after those last words, the human on the floor only blinking owlishly at his seated companion. “Totally worth it though.”