Cloudbreak IC: Glimpse of the sky

[BlasTech]

Every cloud has a silver lining. Sometimes, though, it's a little hard to get it to the mint. - Don Marquis


Cloudbreak

A game of Fallout Equestria

STARRING
STARRING
Amish Pirate as - The Scrapscallion (The Driver) (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20912362&postcount=19)
Balmas as - Starlight Glimmer (The Hardholder) (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20914198&postcount=22) (Now as The Corrupted (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22817340&postcount=919))
Elanorin as - Milliway (The Savvyhead) (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20915032&postcount=27) (Now as The Faceless (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22062424&postcount=595))
Thanqol as - Luminark (The Hoarder) (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20911111&postcount=15) (Now as The Hardholder (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22814183&postcount=913))

OOC Thread 1 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?491944-A-Tea-Party-for-the-Post-Apocalypse-Interlude-Cloudbreak&p=20911111&viewfull=1)

[BlasTech]

Our Bunker.

Many years ago, it lived as a small scientific outpost in the foothills of the Neighagra falls. Looking out over the Canterlot plains, and with its back to the great Canterhorn peak, it was an idyllic place to work or live. The waterfalls nearby provided plenty of drinking water, and the hydroelectricity powered whatever experiments the ponies inside could think up. The surface buildings were where most of the .. aheh, magic, happened. With offices of glittering glass and metal, the idea had been that the natural beauty would inspire those inside towards greater feats of technical and arcane brilliance.

Needless to say, Rarity's hoof had been involved.

At the end of the day though, most of the ponies who worked on this site spent their time staring at diagrams or spell matrices instead of waterfalls. Their mandate was clear. Nature was only a distraction, and each minute spent staring out the windows was a minute that could have been better utilised in finding the means to end. this. war.

Well, the war did end. Just not in the way anypony expected.

Those scientists that survived, did so thanks to the foresight and planning of ponies who died in a storm of emerald flame and nectomantic energies. Not that they were thankful. I mean, if those ponies had properly planned ahead, they'd have organised for the paperwork to be properly backed up. Didn't those foals understand? As a result, there was little to do during the next 200 years, except to live, survive, dig, expand and experiment. At least there were fewer distractions. Nothing to keep the ponies away from the SCIENCE.

Well, up until whatever it was that had knocked out the protective sandstorms that kept this place so well hidden.

[Thanqol]

Luminark is dreaming.

Luminark is dreaming that he's tied up in a small dark room with a big dark pony with a huge dark clown mask and carrying massive dark chainsaw. The big pony is asking a question which cannot be heard over the whirring of the chainsaw blades. He pauses just before putting the blade to Luminark's neck. Then he mutters something about not wanting to get his nice new jacket wet and shuffles for the door to look for some plastic sheeting to put down.

Luminark, of course, is treating this situation calmly and rationally and with all the gravitas it is due. He may be signalling his distress using his vocal chords but that is the most calm and rational way to attract potential rescuers.

And a rescuer arrives. Luminark can only gape in shock as the small metal pony disassembles clown-mask with a series of perfectly placed kicks. He freezes as she looks over at him with her shining metal eye. "Milliway," he says, and she says, "Luminark," and there is no more time for words as they -

And then the dream is abruptly ended by somepony inconsiderately throwing ice water in his face.

"He passed out, boss," says Clown Mask, and his voice sounds distinctly unrefined when it is not said over the roar of chainsaw blades. No wonder he got into that line of work.

"I did not!" Luminark declares, pulling himself to his full height and fighting back a magnificent blush. "I was considering my options! My options for escape! By myself! Under my own power! Because I am a powerful wizard and I do not need rescue!"

"So yer looking to escape then?" said Clown Mask ponderously.

"No! I never said that!" said Luminark, sweat pouring from his brow as he rapidly tried to figure out what his actual plan was.

Clown Mask looked confused, and as was the habit of a pony who was easily confused he looked across to his boss to see what he had to say about all this...

[Balmas]

Well, up until whatever it was that had knocked out the protective sandstorms that kept this place so well hidden.

Start of Session Roll: 3,2, +2. [7] Surplus: +2 Barter, Want +Idle.

"Friend Pony, take Wander Squadron and bring me the head of Absorbing Rod!" Starlight snapped, her long legs propelling her down the steel hallways and forcing her subordinates to jog to keep up. "Make damned sure that the rest of him is attached when you bring him, because I'm going to need him to work on whatever it is that knocked out our shield. Pal squadron, you're going to get the rest of the heads of staff and bring them to the lobby for a staff meeting five minutes ago. Friendship and Buddies, you're with me."

She turned to the smaller pony beside her, frowning at his slicked back hair. "Scrapscallion, you're coming with us to the outside. Somepony is threatening my little ponies, and I intend to find what it is."

[TheAmishPirate]

When was the last time anypony got to make out with a princess?

The question had haunted Scrapscallion for weeks now. There were alicorns now, sure, but he wouldn't call them princesses, y'know? There's a certain sort of...royalty-ness that you gotta have before you're a princess, and they didn't have it. They did have murder. Lots of murder. Frankly, more murder than is probably healthy for anypony looking to cozy up with one of them. So the only conclusion he could come to was "not for hundreds of years."

And here he was, seeing a Princess every other day.

How could he pass up such an opportunity?


She turned to the smaller pony beside her, frowning at his slicked back hair. "Scrapscallion, you're coming with us to the outside. Somepony is threatening my little ponies, and I intend to find what it is."

You wanna guess what else is different about him today? Go on, guess. I'll even give you a hint; it starts with a D, rhymes with "must", and for once it isn't covering Scrapscallion from head to hoof.

That's right. Scrapscallion finally took a bath. No more standing out like a dusty, sore hoof. His coat was scrubbed clean, his mane was shiny, and his coat was free of unsightly wrinkles. Why, he looked downright acceptable.

"Sure thing, your Equalityness. And might I say, you are looking particularly Equal today." He flashed a dazzling smile, and all his numerous muscles flexed at once. (They do that sometimes. Can't help it. Medical condition.) "Maybe later, you and I can check out our Equality in intimate detail." His voice dropped to a silky smooth whisper, flagrant with promise.

darn good average. Rolling to Seduce the Princess: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7. Mark experience if you take him up on his offer.]

[Elanorin]

Start of session move: Bonefeel: 4+6+2=12, hold 1+1, spending my hold to be in Luminark's scene with tools and knowledge, taking +1forward]



And then the dream is abruptly ended by somepony inconsiderately throwing ice water in his face.

"He passed out, boss," says Clown Mask, and his voice sounds distinctly unrefined when it is not said over the roar of chainsaw blades. No wonder he got into that line of work.

"I did not!" Luminark declares, pulling himself to his full height and fighting back a magnificent blush. "I was considering my options! My options for escape! By myself! Under my own power! Because I am a powerful wizard and I do not need rescue!"

"So yer looking to escape then?" said Clown Mask ponderously.

"No! I never said that!" said Luminark, sweat pouring from his brow as he rapidly tried to figure out what his actual plan was.

Clown Mask looked confused, and as was the habit of a pony who was easily confused he looked across to his boss to see what he had to say about all this...

"Uhm... excuse me," Milliway said in her usual quiet voice as she emerged impossibly from behind a narrow pillar which was nowhere near large enough to hide a pony. "Hello," she added as eyes turned to her, she wasn't smiling, and there was a little metallic tink from every third step from the metal cast on her leg as she walked towards them.

"You two can go now. Payment will be ready in the morning." She added calmly and quietly to Clown Mask and Boss, before turning her eyes to Luminark. The metallic one expanded a little as it sought focus and the red light pierced right in to his eyes. There was an unmistakable feeling in the air that she was displeased as her unblinking stare focused on Luminark without mercy.

She waited calmly for the other two to leave.

[Thanqol]

"Uhm... excuse me," Milliway said in her usual quiet voice as she emerged impossibly from behind a narrow pillar which was nowhere near large enough to hide a pony. "Hello," she added as eyes turned to her, she wasn't smiling, and there was a little metallic tink from every third step from the metal cast on her leg as she walked towards them.

"You two can go now. Payment will be ready in the morning." She added calmly and quietly to Clown Mask and Boss, before turning her eyes to Luminark. The metallic one expanded a little as it sought focus and the red light pierced right in to his eyes. There was an unmistakable feeling in the air that she was displeased as her unblinking stare focused on Luminark without mercy.

She waited calmly for the other two to leave.

It took a moment for Luminark to process this, but then he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Nice try, subconscious," said Luminark. "Why don't you just cut to the kissing so at least you're not repeating yourself all night?"

[Elanorin]

It took a moment for Luminark to process this, but then he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Nice try, subconscious," said Luminark. "Why don't you just cut to the kissing so at least you're not repeating yourself all night?"

It's safe to say this comment took Milliway somewhat by surprise. She expected various pleas to let him go, some more delightful screaming, perhaps even some threats, before they got on to the bargaining. But uh... whatever was going on here was... something else. But it didn't matter. Over her dead body was she going to let this cur catch her on the back hoof with his crazytalk.

"Would it make you return what you took?" Milliway asked icily. "Because, then, by all means, let's skip ahead, to the kissing." she snapped.

[BlasTech]

Start of Session Roll: 3,2, +2. [7] Surplus: +2 Barter, Want +Idle.

"Friend Pony, take Wander Squadron and bring me the head of Absorbing Rod!" Starlight snapped, her long legs propelling her down the steel hallways and forcing her subordinates to jog to keep up. "Make damned sure that the rest of him is attached when you bring him, because I'm going to need him to work on whatever it is that knocked out our shield. Pal squadron, you're going to get the rest of the heads of staff and bring them to the lobby for a staff meeting five minutes ago. Friendship and Buddies, you're with me."

She turned to the smaller pony beside her, frowning at his slicked back hair. "Scrapscallion, you're coming with us to the outside. Somepony is threatening my little ponies, and I intend to find what it is."

The heads of staff were already waiting for her, as well as a good number of the other ponies in the Bunker. Many were clutching papers, or waving hooves whilst trying to get the attention of their administrator. Scientists complaining about experiments gone awry, support staff worried about various bits of machinery. Others were just here to watch.

Out of that mass of ponies, which ones do you pay attention to and why?


"You two can go now. Payment will be ready in the morning." She added calmly and quietly to Clown Mask and Boss, before turning her eyes to Luminark. The metallic one expanded a little as it sought focus and the red light pierced right in to his eyes. There was an unmistakable feeling in the air that she was displeased as her unblinking stare focused on Luminark without mercy.

She waited calmly for the other two to leave.

The two ponies shuffled out, although they gave glances back over their shoulders as they left.

What is your relationship with these two ... unsavoury types? They might be for hire, nominally, but you have to know they normally work for Doctrine of Hype. Why would you pick them, of all ponies, to handle a snatch and grab like this?


You wanna guess what else is different about him today? Go on, guess. I'll even give you a hint; it starts with a D, rhymes with "must", and for once it isn't covering Scrapscallion from head to hoof.

That's right. Scrapscallion finally took a bath. No more standing out like a dusty, sore hoof. His coat was scrubbed clean, his mane was shiny, and his coat was free of unsightly wrinkles. Why, he looked downright acceptable.

"Sure thing, your Equalityness. And might I say, you are looking particularly Equal today." He flashed a dazzling smile, and all his numerous muscles flexed at once. (They do that sometimes. Can't help it. Medical condition.) "Maybe later, you and I can check out our Equality in intimate detail." His voice dropped to a silky smooth whisper, flagrant with promise.

darn good average. Rolling to Seduce the Princess: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7. Mark experience if you take him up on his offer.]

Two barter is a lot of jingle to drop on sprucing yourself up, Scrapscallion. What's so expensive in what you've bought? Do your clothes come with some kind of additional benefits, a hidden bit of tech or something, or is a good suit and some mane wax just that expensive in the bunker?

[Balmas]

"Sure thing, your Equalityness. And might I say, you are looking particularly Equal today." He flashed a dazzling smile, and all his numerous muscles flexed at once. (They do that sometimes. Can't help it. Medical condition.) "Maybe later, you and I can check out our Equality in intimate detail." His voice dropped to a silky smooth whisper, flagrant with promise.

darn good average. Rolling to Seduce the Princess: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7. Mark experience if you take him up on his offer.]

The idea was almost enough to get her to stop in her tracks. Almost. "Well, let us say that I am not averse to some discussion tonight. If you can bring Luminark, it might even bear some fruit that would be beneficial to us all.


The heads of staff were already waiting for her, as well as a good number of the other ponies in the Bunker. Many were clutching papers, or waving hooves whilst trying to get the attention of their administrator. Scientists complaining about experiments gone awry, support staff worried about various bits of machinery. Others were just here to watch.

Out of that mass of ponies, which ones do you pay attention to and why?

"Alright, everypony, settle down. Down, I said!"

When that didn't produce results, Starlight turned to Target Practice and stated, "Two day house arrest for anyone who doesn't be silent until they're called on."

[Go Aggro on the counsel: Shut up and be orderly, or face house arrest without their research. 2,5, +2. [9].

"Now, we're going to take care of this in an ordered and scientific manner. Absorbing Rod. You're in charge of power. Why are our defenses down? After that, our Archmage can tell us about the systems in question. And finally, Crossed Wires can tell us how she's going to provide us with maintenance robots to prevent the problem in the future."

[TheAmishPirate]

Two barter is a lot of jingle to drop on sprucing yourself up, Scrapscallion. What's so expensive in what you've bought? Do your clothes come with some kind of additional benefits, a hidden bit of tech or something, or is a good suit and some mane wax just that expensive in the bunker?

Some of that's going towards keeping my bike in good repair and keeping food on the table. But yeah, even half that would be crazy to spend on a good bath. Not to say that shampoo's cheap; it ain't. There aren't many ponies out there pumping out mane care products liek they used to. But for something to be really pricey, ponies have to want it, right? Well have you seen this place? I don't know about you, but most of these ponies don't strike me as the type to spring for the good shampoo.

No, see, this was pricey because I gotta be smart about this. Suppose I get myself all washed up, only to find out - uh oh! Our Princess has locked herself in her lab and won't be out for a week. I make a run in the meantime, and bam! All that bath time goes right down the drain. Literally. I needed a way to look Princess-good, even if I had to go for a ride. So what did I do?

Easy, I bought a charm. Little magitech doodad, guaranteed to keep me looking fresh for a whole week. Had one of the lab coats cook it up for me; I think it was Slight O'Hoof? Good pony, that one. The scientists are always looking for a little extra research budget, and sometimes a pony needs a little magical wonder to solve their problems. A little off-the-books action later, and everypony's happy. Provided the Friendliness Squadrons don't find out.


The idea was almost enough to get her to stop in her tracks. Almost. "Well, let us say that I am not averse to some discussion tonight. If you can bring Luminark, it might even bear some fruit that would be beneficial to us all.

A pause. A long, thoughtful, slightly disgusted pause. "...he won't be joining us, right?" Scrapscallion asked, pulling a face.

[Part of his offer was to meet privately, so if you're taking the XP then you'd have to hold to that as well.]

[BlasTech]

"Alright, everypony, settle down. Down, I said!"

When that didn't produce results, Starlight turned to Target Practice and stated, "Two day house arrest for anyone who doesn't be silent until they're called on."

[Go Aggro on the counsel: Shut up and be orderly, or face house arrest without their research. 2,5, +2. [9].

"Now, we're going to take care of this in an ordered and scientific manner. Absorbing Rod. You're in charge of power. Why are our defenses down? After that, our Archmage can tell us about the systems in question. And finally, Crossed Wires can tell us how she's going to provide us with maintenance robots to prevent the problem in the future."

The ponies subsided at that. There was so much Science to do, nopony wanted to take a two day forced break. That was almost ... well ... torture!

Rod shuffled awkwardly as a space opened up around him. There seemed to be a general air of "that's the pony you want, that guy there. Me? I'm just standing here. Not at all interesting no ma'am." from most of the other scientists. A similar gap soon opened up around Crossed Wires whilst a third opened up on ... an empty patch of space.

I guess Archmage Moondancer hadn't come. No big surprise. She never really left her library unless ... well, not even if the place was on fire. Nopony was sure what she ate, or if she ever needed to visit the little mare's room. If Starlight wanted to talk to her, she'd have to go there directly, and probably get Luminark to let her in to boot. The archmage didn't exactly like distractions.

Rod cleared his throat. The poor earth pony looked somewhat out of place amongst all the scientists in his baggy overalls and grease stains. Two hundred years ago his family had hailed from northern Trottingham and all the intervening generations had never quite managed to erase his accent.

"Och, ma'am. I dinnae know what's happened to tha' sandstorms." he blurted. "Tha' power be runnin' fine, there's been nae black'oots and naething wrong with the gennies."


Easy, I bought a charm. Little magitech doodad, guaranteed to keep me looking fresh for a whole week. Had one of the lab coats cook it up for me; I think it was Slight O'Hoof? Good pony, that one. The scientists are always looking for a little extra research budget, and sometimes a pony needs a little magical wonder to solve their problems. A little off-the-books action later, and everypony's happy. Provided the Friendliness Squadrons don't find out.

Indeed. Something like that could be useful, might be able to keep dirt off you but amp it up and it could even shield you from the rain, or keep toxic sludge off you while you danced in a puddle aboveground.

That said, it might be a good idea not to parade it around at present, given you're currently standing amongst a whole host of Friendliness goons.

Tell me, who was it who sold you that trinket? Black Liquorice the biomancer? Crossed Wires the robotologist? Clockwork the tinkerer? Or did you buy it off a middlepony?

[Balmas]

A pause. A long, thoughtful, slightly disgusted pause. "...he won't be joining us, right?" Scrapscallion asked, pulling a face.

[Part of his offer was to meet privately, so if you're taking the XP then you'd have to hold to that as well.]

"You, of all ponies, should know that I could not be selfish enough to limit myself to just one pony." Starlight considered. "You need not bring him tonight, and I'm even feeling generous enough to consider a second date if this goes well. But if you wish this to be more than a one-night stand, then you'll need to share me. And what's more, you'll need to arrange a date between myself and Luminark. Impress me."

She considered. "And while it's not important at the moment, I congratulate you on locating something to remove the grease from your hair."


The ponies subsided at that. There was so much Science to do, nopony wanted to take a two day forced break. That was almost ... well ... torture!

Rod shuffled awkwardly as a space opened up around him. There seemed to be a general air of "that's the pony you want, that guy there. Me? I'm just standing here. Not at all interesting no ma'am." from most of the other scientists. A similar gap soon opened up around Crossed Wires whilst a third opened up on ... an empty patch of space.

I guess Archmage Moondancer hadn't come. No big surprise. She never really left her library unless ... well, not even if the place was on fire. Nopony was sure what she ate, or if she ever needed to visit the little mare's room. If Starlight wanted to talk to her, she'd have to go there directly, and probably get Luminark to let her in to boot. The archmage didn't exactly like distractions.

Rod cleared his throat. The poor earth pony looked somewhat out of place amongst all the scientists in his baggy overalls and grease stains. Two hundred years ago his family had hailed from northern Trottingham and all the intervening generations had never quite managed to erase his accent.

"Och, ma'am. I dinnae know what's happened to tha' sandstorms." he blurted. "Tha' power be runnin' fine, there's been nae black'oots and naething wrong with the gennies."

"Very well. Thank you, Rod. And absent the Archmage, it falls to me to fix my town." As usual, she quite loudly didn't say.

It occurs to me that I helped build the Bunker, or at least had a part in its design. What, if anything, remains of those memories?

[Thanqol]

It's safe to say this comment took Milliway somewhat by surprise. She expected various pleas to let him go, some more delightful screaming, perhaps even some threats, before they got on to the bargaining. But uh... whatever was going on here was... something else. But it didn't matter. Over her dead body was she going to let this cur catch her on the back hoof with his crazytalk.

"Would it make you return what you took?" Milliway asked icily. "Because, then, by all means, let's skip ahead, to the kissing." she snapped.

"What are you - oh, you're my conscience," said Luminark in sudden understanding. "You're interrupting my dream to give me a guilt trip. Well it won't work! And besides, this entire scenario is implausible. Even if I did steal from Milliway her lab is such a disorganized rats nest there's no way she'd ever notice. Case closed. You can go home."

[Elanorin]

What is your relationship with these two ... unsavoury types? They might be for hire, nominally, but you have to know they normally work for Doctrine of Hype. Why would you pick them, of all ponies, to handle a snatch and grab like this?


Doc? Sure. That's who I got their names from. Doc and I were in Friendship Class together, been drinking buddies since. I needed some muscle to grab Luminark here and put some fear in to him, someponies who take their pay and don't ask questions. So far they've lived up to their recommendation.


"What are you - oh, you're my conscience," said Luminark in sudden understanding. "You're interrupting my dream to give me a guilt trip. Well it won't work! And besides, this entire scenario is implausible. Even if I did steal from Milliway her lab is such a disorganized rats nest there's no way she'd ever notice. Case closed. You can go home."

"Rat's nest. Huh." Milliway calmly looked around, spotted a suitable rusty pipe, picked it up and smacked it over Luminark's head as hard as she could.

[Rolling to Go Aggro on Luminark: 1+3+1=5]

[TheAmishPirate]

Indeed. Something like that could be useful, might be able to keep dirt off you but amp it up and it could even shield you from the rain, or keep toxic sludge off you while you danced in a puddle aboveground.

That said, it might be a good idea not to parade it around at present, given you're currently standing amongst a whole host of Friendliness goons.

Tell me, who was it who sold you that trinket? Black Liquorice the biomancer? Crossed Wires the robotologist? Clockwork the tinkerer? Or did you buy it off a middlepony?

Oh, yeah. I'm not dumb enough to go prancing around with a big, glowing gem around my neck. I've got it stashed in the inside pocket of my jacket.

The seller? Right, right, it was Clockwork. You don't get your traditional middleponies because it's not like they're stockpiling these things. They only make them when somebody's paying for their time. The trick is knowing who makes what. Say I caught a nasty case of the radsickness, and I wanted it gone fast. That's when I'd go see Black Liquorice, or maybe Absorbing Rod. Clockwork's the one who specializes in little magitech goodies like this one.


"You, of all ponies, should know that I could not be selfish enough to limit myself to just one pony." Starlight considered. "You need not bring him tonight, and I'm even feeling generous enough to consider a second date if this goes well. But if you wish this to be more than a one-night stand, then you'll need to share me. And what's more, you'll need to arrange a date between myself and Luminark. Impress me."

She considered. "And while it's not important at the moment, I congratulate you on locating something to remove the grease from your hair."

Let's see; get cozy with the Princess tonight, stick Luminark with her, get cozy with the Princess later? Man oh man. This was gonna be fun. "You got it, Princess," he said, popping his jacket collar. "What can I say? The Scrapscallion never disappoints."

He flicked his goggles down - the ones with the cool shades - and strutted into the meeting beside her.


"Very well. Thank you, Rod. And absent the Archmage, it falls to me to fix my town." As usual, she quite loudly didn't say.

It occurs to me that I helped build the Bunker, or at least had a part in its design. What, if anything, remains of those memories?

The Scrapscallion entered the meeting brimming with confidence. Let the scientists bicker all they wanted; he had just wooed a Princess, and nothing could soil his good mood. Bring out the longest slideshows! Stuff him in the tiniest meeting rooms! He was ready! He was on fire!

He didn't last five minutes.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. If he reclined any more in his seat, he was going over. In fact, he was strongly considering it. Maybe a good concussion could take the edge of the boredom. Anything, anything was better than listening to these ponies drone on. Well, aside from house arrest. He shot a dirty look to the Princess, but her own frustration gave him a fantastic idea.

Real smooth-like, he flicked his tail against her leg. And when she turned, she'd see the face of the pony who could totally end this meeting right here, right now. If only she'd just call on him...

[Rolling to Manipulate/Seduce the Princess. Again. This time, Scrapscallion wants her to give him the floor, and let him end the meeting. [roll0] Mark XP if you do, erase a highlight if you don't.]

[BlasTech]

"Rat's nest. Huh." Milliway calmly looked around, spotted a suitable rusty pipe, picked it up and smacked it over Luminark's head as hard as she could.

[Rolling to Go Aggro on Luminark: 1+3+1=5]

The pipe seemed to stick in mid-air. Milliway tugged on it futilely, before turning to see it engulfed in a field of magic.

"Well well well, wot 'ave we 'ere?" said an annoyingly familiar voice, as Forced Smile stepped into the room, his horn glowing. The head of Pals squadron was grinning his trademark grin, which sat somewhere between "I don't like you" and "boys, pull off her legs". Two more guards stepped in after him, one of them roughly pushing a unusually docile Clown Mask ahead of him.

"Looks like a clear case of non-conformist behaviour. Possibly even deviant." he gasped, in the theatrical form of those ponies who possessed wit only seen at the bottom of pond scum. "We might have two more ponies for re-edu-cation tonight boys!"

The friendliness squadrons, when they caught a pony, were well known to be anything but. They had a long history of breaking kneecaps just to make a point. And fillies always had extra things to worry about if they found themselves in their clutches.



"Very well. Thank you, Rod. And absent the Archmage, it falls to me to fix my town." As usual, she quite loudly didn't say.

It occurs to me that I helped build the Bunker, or at least had a part in its design. What, if anything, remains of those memories?

Sounds like you're opening your brain!

[Elanorin]

The pipe seemed to stick in mid-air. Milliway tugged on it futilely, before turning to see it engulfed in a field of magic.

"Well well well, wot 'ave we 'ere?" said an annoyingly familiar voice, as Forced Smile stepped into the room, his horn glowing. The head of Pals squadron was grinning his trademark grin, which sat somewhere between "I don't like you" and "boys, pull off her legs". Two more guards stepped in after him, one of them roughly pushing a unusually docile Clown Mask ahead of him.

"Looks like a clear case of non-conformist behaviour. Possibly even deviant." he gasped, in the theatrical form of those ponies who possessed wit only seen at the bottom of pond scum. "We might have two more ponies for re-edu-cation tonight boys!"

The friendliness squadrons, when they caught a pony, were well known to be anything but. They had a long history of breaking kneecaps just to make a point. And fillies always had extra things to worry about if they found themselves in their clutches.

Milliway froze for a moment, feeling an icy trickle of panic shoot down her spine. She knew that voice. She knew it much, much too well. It haunted her, just as much as that smile haunted her, she didn't have to turn to look at him to know that smile was on his face. She was not going back there. No way. She'd do anything to prevent it. Anything.

Anything.

Even this...

"What? Oh..." she said, with an embarrassed smile, "I think there's a misunderstanding here. This is not what it looks like. This is my boyfriend. I wasn't ever going to actually hurt him. I love him. It's a sort of game. Vanilla just isn't his flavour of choice, see. So we're just adding a little spice. Friendly- oh so friendly- spice. Aren't we, honey?" she said, leaning in to place an affectionate kiss on Luminark's cheek, wrapping a caressing hoof around his neck.

[Thanqol]

Milliway froze for a moment, feeling an icy trickle of panic shoot down her spine. She knew that voice. She knew it much, much too well. It haunted her, just as much as that smile haunted her, she didn't have to turn to look at him to know that smile was on his face. She was not going back there. No way. She'd do anything to prevent it. Anything.

Anything.

Even this...

"What? Oh..." she said, with an embarrassed smile, "I think there's a misunderstanding here. This is not what it looks like. This is my boyfriend. I wasn't ever going to actually hurt him. I love him. It's a sort of game. Vanilla just isn't his flavour of choice, see. So we're just adding a little spice. Friendly- oh so friendly- spice. Aren't we, honey?" she said, leaning in to place an affectionate kiss on Luminark's cheek, wrapping a caressing hoof around his neck.

This dream was turning into a bit of a rollercoaster. Luminark was a bit scrambled for a few seconds, but decided that the lesser evil here was keeping up with this Milliway insanity rather than seguing to the probable nightmare that'd be behind the friendship inspectors. An entirely logical motive that had nothing to do with anything else. "Yes, all a big misunderstanding," he said.

[Balmas]

Sounds like you're opening your brain!

Going into the maze of her own memories was always a risky proposition.

To start off with, you never knew what you were going to find in your own memories. Sometimes you were lucky, and the path led straight to what you found. Sometimes, there were locked doors that forced you to wander, only to backtrack and find that they were open. Sometimes, you needed to walk at walls and trust that there were doors where your senses told you there were only beige bricks. A few times, on her own journeys, she'd found a massive door, picked out in gold and rubies, but with not a single crack in it to open.

Let's see what she finds today.
[roll0]


The Scrapscallion entered the meeting brimming with confidence. Let the scientists bicker all they wanted; he had just wooed a Princess, and nothing could soil his good mood. Bring out the longest slideshows! Stuff him in the tiniest meeting rooms! He was ready! He was on fire!

He didn't last five minutes.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. If he reclined any more in his seat, he was going over. In fact, he was strongly considering it. Maybe a good concussion could take the edge of the boredom. Anything, anything was better than listening to these ponies drone on. Well, aside from house arrest. He shot a dirty look to the Princess, but her own frustration gave him a fantastic idea.

Real smooth-like, he flicked his tail against her leg. And when she turned, she'd see the face of the pony who could totally end this meeting right here, right now. If only she'd just call on him...

[Rolling to Manipulate/Seduce the Princess. Again. This time, Scrapscallion wants her to give him the floor, and let him end the meeting. [roll0] Mark XP if you do, erase a highlight if you don't.]

[Man, Manipulate has teeth in this edition.]

Starlight sighed. "Well, unless any of you have anything useful to contribute, I don't see a point in continuing this meeting for much further. We have power, so none of your projects should be disturbed too much. Target Practice, I want to see some new technology from the weapons lab when we get back; I suspect we'll need it."

Her horn flashed, and she unfurled a map of the area surrounding Our Bunker from the ceiling. At the same time, the Scrapscallion's chair tipped inexorably and brutally to the floor and it wasn't me you can't prove a damn thing.

Starlight turned and smiled sweetly at the stallion. "Luckily, the Scrapscallion assures me that he knows how to solve our current crisis. And who better than our premier scrap scavenging expert? Once he tells us the answer, the meeting will be over and you can direct any further questions to him."

[BlasTech]

Milliway froze for a moment, feeling an icy trickle of panic shoot down her spine. She knew that voice. She knew it much, much too well. It haunted her, just as much as that smile haunted her, she didn't have to turn to look at him to know that smile was on his face. She was not going back there. No way. She'd do anything to prevent it. Anything.

Anything.

Even this...

"What? Oh..." she said, with an embarrassed smile, "I think there's a misunderstanding here. This is not what it looks like. This is my boyfriend. I wasn't ever going to actually hurt him. I love him. It's a sort of game. Vanilla just isn't his flavour of choice, see. So we're just adding a little spice. Friendly- oh so friendly- spice. Aren't we, honey?" she said, leaning in to place an affectionate kiss on Luminark's cheek, wrapping a caressing hoof around his neck.

"Well, ain't that just sweet." replied Forced Smile. "I'd almost believe you lot if it wasn't for the fact we caught Clown Mask here sneaking out of here a second ago."

"I didn't do nothin'" grumbled the big earth pony.

"See? He's already confessed for you ponies." continued Smile. "Right honourable pony this fella is."

[This sounds charged, would anypony like to read a sitch?]


Going into the maze of her own memories was always a risky proposition.

To start off with, you never knew what you were going to find in your own memories. Sometimes you were lucky, and the path led straight to what you found. Sometimes, there were locked doors that forced you to wander, only to backtrack and find that they were open. Sometimes, you needed to walk at walls and trust that there were doors where your senses told you there were only beige bricks. A few times, on her own journeys, she'd found a massive door, picked out in gold and rubies, but with not a single crack in it to open.

Let's see what she finds today.
[roll0]

An old manor, vast and empty.

Down and down the passages, doors locked and barred. Each hallway branching off to another, but all of them ending in dead ends. Some have collapsed, others burned. Had there been a fire? And who had lit it?

Starlight flicks back the curtains, trying to peer out into the darkness. But whatever is out there is drowned out by the lights inside. They cast strange shadows on the parched grass outside, the crossbars and patterns of the window frames.

She tries to light the hearth, but no flame will take on the dead embers that remain.

Meanwhile, she smells smoke.


Starlight sighed. "Well, unless any of you have anything useful to contribute, I don't see a point in continuing this meeting for much further. We have power, so none of your projects should be disturbed too much. Target Practice, I want to see some new technology from the weapons lab when we get back; I suspect we'll need it."
"

"Ma'am!" gasps Proper Process, loudly enough that it almost disturbs the grey bun of her mane. "You can't be suggesting we dismiss the meeting already? Article seventeen of the research charter is quite explicit in these circumstances. Quite explicit indeed! The heads of staff are to meet for a minuted meeting, chaired by the Administrator, in the event of a significant outage to our perimeter defences. And will continue to meet until the matter is properly diagnosed and a rectification plan in place."

"There's no way we can sift the data required in just a few moments. We should wait to hear from the remainder of the relevant departments!"

Beside her, a half dozen ponies nodded in agreement and started shuffling formidably tall looking stacks of papers.

[TheAmishPirate]

Starlight sighed. "Well, unless any of you have anything useful to contribute, I don't see a point in continuing this meeting for much further. We have power, so none of your projects should be disturbed too much. Target Practice, I want to see some new technology from the weapons lab when we get back; I suspect we'll need it."

Her horn flashed, and she unfurled a map of the area surrounding Our Bunker from the ceiling. At the same time, the Scrapscallion's chair tipped inexorably and brutally to the floor and it wasn't me you can't prove a damn thing.

Starlight turned and smiled sweetly at the stallion. "Luckily, the Scrapscallion assures me that he knows how to solve our current crisis. And who better than our premier scrap scavenging expert? Once he tells us the answer, the meeting will be over and you can direct any further questions to him."


"Ma'am!" gasps Proper Process, loudly enough that it almost disturbs the grey bun of her mane. "You can't be suggesting we dismiss the meeting already? Article seventeen of the research charter is quite explicit in these circumstances. Quite explicit indeed! The heads of staff are to meet for a minuted meeting, chaired by the Administrator, in the event of a significant outage to our perimeter defences. And will continue to meet until the matter is properly diagnosed and a rectification plan in place."

"There's no way we can sift the data required in just a few moments. We should wait to hear from the remainder of the relevant departments!"

Beside her, a half dozen ponies nodded in agreement and started shuffling formidably tall looking stacks of papers.

The Scrapscallion sprung upright, as if nothing had happened. Because nothing had happened. Nopony saw anything, they couldn't prove otherwise, and he'd always had this bruise-shaped birthmark on his head.

"And you can't be suggesting going against the word of your Princess-Administrator?" He fired back, matching Proper Process' tone to a T. "Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnn, what is the holdup here? We all know how this goes down. Nopony knows what's happening, because nopony's piped up to offer some brilliant plan. And the only way we find out what's happening is by sending somepony to go check it out."

He smoothed out his jacket sleeve. "So why don't we cut to the chase? I can be there and back before sundown, and still have time to pick up some souvenirs."

[This feels like yet another Manipulate. Scrapscallion wants them to accept his proposal and get the heck out. [roll0]]

[Balmas]

An old manor, vast and empty.

Down and down the passages, doors locked and barred. Each hallway branching off to another, but all of them ending in dead ends. Some have collapsed, others burned. Had there been a fire? And who had lit it?

Starlight flicks back the curtains, trying to peer out into the darkness. But whatever is out there is drowned out by the lights inside. They cast strange shadows on the parched grass outside, the crossbars and patterns of the window frames.

She tries to light the hearth, but no flame will take on the dead embers that remain.

Meanwhile, she smells smoke.

Well, that wasn't good. I couldn't allow my dream mansion to go up in smoke, or else I'd be liable to start thinking I was a dictator instead of a loving counselor for my little ponies. I follow the smoke, and if the fire is small enough, I drop a shield over it to suffocate the flames.


"Ma'am!" gasps Proper Process, loudly enough that it almost disturbs the grey bun of her mane. "You can't be suggesting we dismiss the meeting already? Article seventeen of the research charter is quite explicit in these circumstances. Quite explicit indeed! The heads of staff are to meet for a minuted meeting, chaired by the Administrator, in the event of a significant outage to our perimeter defences. And will continue to meet until the matter is properly diagnosed and a rectification plan in place."

"There's no way we can sift the data required in just a few moments. We should wait to hear from the remainder of the relevant departments!"

Beside her, a half dozen ponies nodded in agreement and started shuffling formidably tall looking stacks of papers.


The Scrapscallion sprung upright, as if nothing had happened. Because nothing had happened. Nopony saw anything, they couldn't prove otherwise, and he'd always had this bruise-shaped birthmark on his head.

"And you can't be suggesting going against the word of your Princess-Administrator?" He fired back, matching Proper Process' tone to a T. "Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnn, what is the holdup here? We all know how this goes down. Nopony knows what's happening, because nopony's piped up to offer some brilliant plan. And the only way we find out what's happening is by sending somepony to go check it out."

He smoothed out his jacket sleeve. "So why don't we cut to the chase? I can be there and back before sundown, and still have time to pick up some souvenirs."

[This feels like yet another Manipulate. Scrapscallion wants them to accept his proposal and get the heck out. [roll0]]


"I'm aware of the regulations," Starlight snapped. "I wrote half of them. And I wrote the other half, too. But as I said, I need to make sure that my little ponies are safe. And that means that we will be going out, determining where the problem lies."

Her voice softened. "And we are not canceling the counsel meeting--we're postponing it until we have all relevant facts. Once we come back, you'll have a full debriefing from the Scrapscallion."

She grinned, and turned a pair of violet eyes on him. Eyes full of promises, both richly rewarding and agonizingly painful. "Won't we, my friend?"

[Rolling to manipulate the Scrapscallion: [roll0]]

[Thanqol]

"Well, ain't that just sweet." replied Forced Smile. "I'd almost believe you lot if it wasn't for the fact we caught Clown Mask here sneaking out of here a second ago."

"I didn't do nothin'" grumbled the big earth pony.

"See? He's already confessed for you ponies." continued Smile. "Right honourable pony this fella is."

[This sounds charged, would anypony like to read a sitch?]

Sure thing: 11. What's my best escape route, what should I be on the lookout for, which enemy is most vulnerable to me?

[BlasTech]

He smoothed out his jacket sleeve. "So why don't we cut to the chase? I can be there and back before sundown, and still have time to pick up some souvenirs."

[This feels like yet another Manipulate. Scrapscallion wants them to accept his proposal and get the heck out. [roll0]]


Her voice softened. "And we are not canceling the counsel meeting--we're postponing it until we have all relevant facts. Once we come back, you'll have a full debriefing from the Scrapscallion."

She grinned, and turned a pair of violet eyes on him. Eyes full of promises, both richly rewarding and agonizingly painful. "Won't we, my friend?"

[Rolling to manipulate the Scrapscallion: [roll0]]

"We would not, of course, go against your will here, Administrator. However, we do wish to strongly emphasise that any field research in relation to the defence outage should, by rights, be led and resourced from within the science division."

Proper Process scowled at the Scrapscallion, and her expression was mirrored by another half-dozen of the researchers. They glanced at one another, before nodding at the elderly unicorn to continue.

"What you do with him is, of course, your business Administrator" she continued, with the tone of voice indicating that it was very much not just her business and that they all had an opinion on it. "But on an expedition of this nature, we feel his ... talents ... will be best utilised when he is under the direct authority of the assigned science head."


Sure thing: 11. What's my best escape route, what should I be on the lookout for, which enemy is most vulnerable to me?

Well, let's see. Depends on what you mean by "best"

Forced Smile here is a bit of a bully, as befits a pony whose job it is to "enforce friendship" however he deems fit. He's looking to rough up some ponies, particularly ones he doesn't like, but he probably doesn't want to take it any further than that. Probably. If by best, you mean easiest, or least complicated, then your best bet out is to give him one such pony, and you feel it's between yourself and Milliway as to the major candidates. Let him have his fun, kick the stuffing out of one or the other of you, and he'll be on his way.

Alternatively, if by best you mean 'least immediately painful', you can give him a bigger fish to fry. Rat out something on Boss or Clown Mask. It'll take his attention off you but you'll probably make an enemy down the track. You only have to out-think Clown Mask, and he's hardly got a proper degree*.

What you should be on the lookout for is the second of the guardponies that has come in, Prancer. The earth pony has a radio on him, so if you try anything too dangerous or over the top, he's the one that'll call for backup. Before you know it you'll be swimming in Friendship Police, which is not conducive to a long and healthy life.

As far as vulnerable goes, well, you're currently tied to a chair and there's three of them. So physical vulnerability isn't really on the cards yet unless you're packing something I don't know about. But emotional vulnerability, well it's Prancer again. See, he's also got a bit of a thing for Milliway. You can see it in how he tenses up when she drapes herself over you. If you get into a fight with them, he's the one most likely to take it too far, so keep an eye out for that, but it also makes him the one with the most obvious buttons for you to push.

*(Bachelor of Topiary - the bunker's biomancer hands these ones out like candy)

[Elanorin]

"Well, ain't that just sweet." replied Forced Smile. "I'd almost believe you lot if it wasn't for the fact we caught Clown Mask here sneaking out of here a second ago."

"I didn't do nothin'" grumbled the big earth pony.

"See? He's already confessed for you ponies." continued Smile. "Right honourable pony this fella is."

[This sounds charged, would anypony like to read a sitch?]


Milliway felt little beads of sweat forming at he base of her mane. She had to find a way out. She barely noticed it herself but her leg wrapped around Luminark was holding him tighter and tighter the more worried she got.

[Read a Sitch: 3+2+0=5 ]

[BlasTech]

Milliway felt little beads of sweat forming at he base of her mane. She had to find a way out. She barely noticed it herself but her leg wrapped around Luminark was holding him tighter and tighter the more worried she got.

[Read a Sitch: 3+2+0=5 ]

Prancer's scowl deepened as he watched Milliway clutch to Luminark.




"We would not, of course, go against your will here, Administrator. However, we do wish to strongly emphasise that any field research in relation to the defence outage should, by rights, be led and resourced from within the science division."

Proper Process scowled at the Scrapscallion, and her expression was mirrored by another half-dozen of the researchers. They glanced at one another, before nodding at the elderly unicorn to continue.

"What you do with him is, of course, your business Administrator" she continued, with the tone of voice indicating that it was very much not just her business and that they all had an opinion on it. "But on an expedition of this nature, we feel his ... talents ... will be best utilised when he is under the direct authority of the assigned science head."

It had begun its life as a collection of individual components: a suitcase, an energy gem and a pair of military-grade frag mines. Somepony, somewhere, had taken great care to put them together [I]just so, and to place them just right under the middle of the large wooden conference table.

It ended its life in a brilliant flash of light, heat and noise. The blast tore through the table, the assembled researchers and practically any last hope that today was going to be nice, quiet and full of meetings.

[Glimglam, Scraps, 3 harm]

When vision returns, everything is cloaked in smoke. The lights have been blown out, and the only illumination is from various small fires that now flicker in the gutted conference room. Overhead, one of the bunker's water pipes has been cracked, and water is dripping down from amongst the ragged remains of the ceiling.

There's no sound, save for a ringing in the ears, but there are things that should be making noise - for starters, you can see ponies moving around you; some of the researchers have survived and many of them are injured, bleeding and missing limbs. Somepony's head is staring sightlessly at the two of you. It takes you a moment to realise that it's no longer attached to a body. Scrapscallion, you are the first to recognise the face. Who was it? The cream of the researchers were in the meeting, which department is now without its ... ahem ... head?

Starlight, what do you do here? Your guards are outside, but the blast has fried the door controls. You can probably force the door with no problem, but what then? Somepony has literally set you up the bomb, and from the way it looks it was probably an inside job. If your security team rushes into the room, there's a good chance that the evidence behind who did this could be disturbed, or even tampered with. If you force them to take it more carefully though, more of the researchers could die.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

"I'm aware of the regulations," Starlight snapped. "I wrote half of them. And I wrote the other half, too. But as I said, I need to make sure that my little ponies are safe. And that means that we will be going out, determining where the problem lies."

Her voice softened. "And we are not canceling the counsel meeting--we're postponing it until we have all relevant facts. Once we come back, you'll have a full debriefing from the Scrapscallion."

She grinned, and turned a pair of violet eyes on him. Eyes full of promises, both richly rewarding and agonizingly painful. "Won't we, my friend?"

The Scrapscallion smiled, and nodded easily. "You got it-"

And then the room exploded.


It had begun its life as a collection of individual components: a suitcase, an energy gem and a pair of military-grade frag mines. Somepony, somewhere, had taken great care to put them together just so, and to place them just right under the middle of the large wooden conference table.

It ended its life in a brilliant flash of light, heat and noise. The blast tore through the table, the assembled researchers and practically any last hope that today was going to be nice, quiet and full of meetings.

[Glimglam, Scraps, 3 harm]

When vision returns, everything is cloaked in smoke. The lights have been blown out, and the only illumination is from various small fires that now flicker in the gutted conference room. Overhead, one of the bunker's water pipes has been cracked, and water is dripping down from amongst the ragged remains of the ceiling.

There's no sound, save for a ringing in the ears, but there are things that should be making noise - for starters, you can see ponies moving around you; some of the researchers have survived and many of them are injured, bleeding and missing limbs. Somepony's head is staring sightlessly at the two of you. It takes you a moment to realise that it's no longer attached to a body. Scrapscallion, you are the first to recognise the face. Who was it? The cream of the researchers were in the meeting, which department is now without its ... ahem ... head?

[That's 3 Harm - 0 Armor = Still 3 Harm. Rolling Harm move: [roll0]]

Ow. Ow. Yep. Ow. That was an explosion alright. That was going to smart in the morning. And the evening. And right now. At least his coat wasn't messy.

The Scrapscallion opened his eyes, and the lifeless eyes of Tree the biologist stared through him. The breath caught in his throat. Jeez. I...I saw her last week. She actually waved when I left for a run. This sucked a lot less when he was the only one getting blown up.

Crawling through the debris, he made his way to Starlight's side. She barely seemed singed, of course. "Princess, I can get everypony who can work a bonesaw down here in five minutes flat." He shouted over the ringing in his ears. "Just say the word."

[Balmas]

"We would not, of course, go against your will here, Administrator. However, we do wish to strongly emphasise that any field research in relation to the defence outage should, by rights, be led and resourced from within the science division."

Proper Process scowled at the Scrapscallion, and her expression was mirrored by another half-dozen of the researchers. They glanced at one another, before nodding at the elderly unicorn to continue.

"What you do with him is, of course, your business Administrator" she continued, with the tone of voice indicating that it was very much not just her business and that they all had an opinion on it. "But on an expedition of this nature, we feel his ... talents ... will be best utilised when he is under the direct authority of the assigned science head."

Starlight sighed. "That should be acceptable. Just so long as we can--"


It had begun its life as a collection of individual components: a suitcase, an energy gem and a pair of military-grade frag mines. Somepony, somewhere, had taken great care to put them together just so, and to place them just right under the middle of the large wooden conference table.

It ended its life in a brilliant flash of light, heat and noise. The blast tore through the table, the assembled researchers and practically any last hope that today was going to be nice, quiet and full of meetings.

[Glimglam, Scraps, 3 harm]

When vision returns, everything is cloaked in smoke. The lights have been blown out, and the only illumination is from various small fires that now flicker in the gutted conference room. Overhead, one of the bunker's water pipes has been cracked, and water is dripping down from amongst the ragged remains of the ceiling.

There's no sound, save for a ringing in the ears, but there are things that should be making noise - for starters, you can see ponies moving around you; some of the researchers have survived and many of them are injured, bleeding and missing limbs. Somepony's head is staring sightlessly at the two of you. It takes you a moment to realise that it's no longer attached to a body. Scrapscallion, you are the first to recognise the face. Who was it? The cream of the researchers were in the meeting, which department is now without its ... ahem ... head?

Starlight, what do you do here? Your guards are outside, but the blast has fried the door controls. You can probably force the door with no problem, but what then? Somepony has literally set you up the bomb, and from the way it looks it was probably an inside job. If your security team rushes into the room, there's a good chance that the evidence behind who did this could be disturbed, or even tampered with. If you force them to take it more carefully though, more of the researchers could die.

What do you do?

Blood dripped in a circle around Starlight where her shield had absorbed most the force, but not the noise. Devastation painted the room and her face. If she'd known, if she'd been smarter, if she'd thought to cover anyone else but herself with her shield, at least some other ponies might have lived.

Harm Move: [roll0]

She could barely hear herself barking orders over the ringing in her ears. "Guards! Get doctors and help the wounded!" There was an almighty shriek as Starlight jammed a hoof between the steel sliding doors and forced them open. Right now, this may have been an inside job, and ponies might die later if they didn't root out the traitor, but ponies were going to die now if she didn't get them help. "Sound off, all living and wounded!"


Ow. Ow. Yep. Ow. That was an explosion alright. That was going to smart in the morning. And the evening. And right now. At least his coat wasn't messy.

The Scrapscallion opened his eyes, and the lifeless eyes of Tree the biologist stared through him. The breath caught in his throat. Jeez. I...I saw her last week. She actually waved when I left for a run. This sucked a lot less when he was the only one getting blown up.

Crawling through the debris, he made his way to Starlight's side. She barely seemed singed, of course. "Princess, I can get everypony who can work a bonesaw down here in five minutes flat." He shouted over the ringing in his ears. "Just say the word."

"You'll get a free upgrade to your car if you can get them here in two!"

[BlasTech]

She could barely hear herself barking orders over the ringing in her ears. "Guards! Get doctors and help the wounded!" There was an almighty shriek as Starlight jammed a hoof between the steel sliding doors and forced them open. Right now, this may have been an inside job, and ponies might die later if they didn't root out the traitor, but ponies were going to die now if she didn't get them help. "Sound off, all living and wounded!"

The guards piled into the room as soon as the door was opened. You get the impression they had been trying to force the door during this intervening time.

Wander and Buddies squadrons move to help the wounded. Their expertise lies more in hurting ponies than helping them, but theres a few ponies in the squads who know enough medicine to start triaging patients. You hear, as your hearing starts to return, Proper Process shriek with more force than a pony that age should, as one of the friendship patrol applies a tourniquet to her missing leg.

Tree is dead, and that means your head botanist is gone. The department will need to appoint a replacement, or will you deal with that as Administrator? How much autonomy do you allow the various research teams?


[That's 3 Harm - 0 Armor = Still 3 Harm. Rolling Harm move: [roll0]]

Ow. Ow. Yep. Ow. That was an explosion alright. That was going to smart in the morning. And the evening. And right now. At least his coat wasn't messy.

The Scrapscallion opened his eyes, and the lifeless eyes of Tree the biologist stared through him. The breath caught in his throat. Jeez. I...I saw her last week. She actually waved when I left for a run. This sucked a lot less when he was the only one getting blown up.

Crawling through the debris, he made his way to Starlight's side. She barely seemed singed, of course. "Princess, I can get everypony who can work a bonesaw down here in five minutes flat." He shouted over the ringing in his ears. "Just say the word."

On the plus side, despite the visible cuts and blood dripping off you, you still look pretty slick. The blood doesn't seem to stick in your coat, and the blast didn't even touch your mane.

Pretty pretty mane.

Uh, anyway. You're off to the medical facilities. I expect you've been there a few times? What, with needing to be patched up after a run. What can you tell me about them and the ponies who work there? Are they state-of-the-art? Expansive? How will they cope with a mass-casualty situation like we have? Or are they primitive enough that you go elsewhere for your real medicine?

[Balmas]

The guards piled into the room as soon as the door was opened. You get the impression they had been trying to force the door during this intervening time.

Wander and Buddies squadrons move to help the wounded. Their expertise lies more in hurting ponies than helping them, but theres a few ponies in the squads who know enough medicine to start triaging patients. You hear, as your hearing starts to return, Proper Process shriek with more force than a pony that age should, as one of the friendship patrol applies a tourniquet to her missing leg.

Tree is dead, and that means your head botanist is gone. The department will need to appoint a replacement, or will you deal with that as Administrator? How much autonomy do you allow the various research teams?

I sit, cradling Trees' body. She'd been a good pony, and a friend. And whoever had killed her was going to wish that they'd been drawn and quartered, because it would feel more merciful than what I had planned.

As a general rule, each department has control over their appointments. The members of the department elect a head, and that head is submitted to me for approval. If I veto that appointment, they are removed from the pool of candidates and the department votes on a new successor. As a general rule, it works well to ensure that the person in charge is well-liked by the department (or adept at coercion, which is also a plus), and is someone I can handle when I need to deal with them.

For now, though, I need to find out what's going on. I recognize that even with well-disciplined troops, there's going to be a mess in an emergency, so I'm doing my best to filter that out in order to figure things out.

[Read a sitch: [roll0] What is the true position of my enemy? What should I be on the lookout for? Holding 1.]

[Elanorin]

Prancer's scowl deepened as he watched Milliway clutch to Luminark.

[I think you still get to ask a question here, but be prepared for the worst. possible. thing]

[Apologies, was in 1.0 brain mode. Well Milliway is in complete instinctive flight mode so there's only really one thing on her mind; where's my best escape route?]

[TheAmishPirate]

If you want to make it back in two minutes, while you're heavily bleeding, without incurring more harm. Then yes, I'd say that'd sound like an AUF?

If you do so, also tell me the name of one other pony who you saw who was badly injured and who might not live if you took it slower.

Absorbing Rod. He's lying in a pile of debris, and he hasn't so much as twitched since the dust settled. Whatever's wrong with him, odds are the goon squad isn't going to be able to help.


"You'll get a free upgrade to your car if you can get them here in two!"

If he wasn't surrounded by the dead and dying, he could've kissed her right there. The Scrapscallion wiped the grime from his goggles and popped the stiffness from his neck.

"Start counting!"

And he was off. He backflipped onto the ruined table, somersaulted off a stunned guard's helmet, grabbed hold of the broken water pipe, and flung himself through the hole in the ceiling. No crowded hallways or maze-like corridors for him. You want to get someplace quick? You gotta be prepared to get dirty. Metaphorically speaking, in this case.

[Rolling to Act Under Fire. 6 + 2 + 2 = 10]

*Medical Wing, twenty-seven seconds later*

The Scrapscallion came crashing down through the ceiling, landing right in the midst of a pack of startled doctors. "Explosion in the conference room!" He shouted before anypony could say a word. "We got dying ponies, people! MOVE!"


On the plus side, despite the visible cuts and blood dripping off you, you still look pretty slick. The blood doesn't seem to stick in your coat, and the blast didn't even touch your mane.

Pretty pretty mane.

Uh, anyway. You're off to the medical facilities. I expect you've been there a few times? What, with needing to be patched up after a run. What can you tell me about them and the ponies who work there? Are they state-of-the-art? Expansive? How will they cope with a mass-casualty situation like we have? Or are they primitive enough that you go elsewhere for your real medicine?

Excuse me? Have you seen Milliway? You don't get cyberponies like that with a cut-rate basement chop-shop. No no, the Bunker is all about SCIENCE, and wouldn't you know it; ponies are packed full of the stuff. So long as there's been sharp objects, there's been scientists eager to take ponies apart and put them back together again. Chief among them is Clinical Trial. The only thing he likes more than healing ponies is learning something in the process. Which makes him awfully reluctant to go for the tried-and-true methods. Says we won't learn anything useful that way. I say 'give me the damn aspirin doc or I start chugging pills at random again.' That usually works.

For this many casualties? Yeah, we should have the room. Totally. It's a pretty big bunker for the numbers we got. But lots of that room gets gobbled up by experiments, and the medical wing is going to have to do some serious pruning down to fit this many patients. Glad I don't have to deal with that tantrum waiting to happen.

[BlasTech]

[Apologies, was in 1.0 brain mode. Well Milliway is in complete instinctive flight mode so there's only really one thing on her mind; where's my best escape route?]

Did you catch my answer to Luminark before? The answer to Milliway is about the same. The best way out is for either yourself or Luminark to give yourselves up for a good beating and ...

Well, it looks like Prancer is about to make that decision for you.

The earth pony really doesn't like the way you've been clinging to Luminark. After all, that pony is just the lap-dog of the Archmage, the go-fer. He doesn't deserve you. Not like Prancer does.

He grabs you roughly away, determinedly dragging you towards the exit. Forced Smile seems surprised, but ends up just grinning at the younger pony's enthusiasm. Content to follow his subordinate's lead so long as one of you two ends up getting hurt.


I sit, cradling Trees' body. She'd been a good pony, and a friend. And whoever had killed her was going to wish that they'd been drawn and quartered, because it would feel more merciful than what I had planned.

As a general rule, each department has control over their appointments. The members of the department elect a head, and that head is submitted to me for approval. If I veto that appointment, they are removed from the pool of candidates and the department votes on a new successor. As a general rule, it works well to ensure that the person in charge is well-liked by the department (or adept at coercion, which is also a plus), and is someone I can handle when I need to deal with them.

For now, though, I need to find out what's going on. I recognize that even with well-disciplined troops, there's going to be a mess in an emergency, so I'm doing my best to filter that out in order to figure things out.

[Read a sitch: [roll0] What is the true position of my enemy? What should I be on the lookout for? Holding 1.]

Well, this isn't like an ambush. There's nopony here drawing a bead on you and it's not as if somepony is walking around with a bright sign on them saying "I did it!".

With all the ponies bustling in and out, and most of those your Friendship Police to boot, only a suicidal pony would attempt something on you in here. No, if you're wondering what you should be on the lookout for, the answer is the follow-up stroke. Whomever tried to kill the ponies in here probably had some other plan, and it's not likely that it stops just at one bomb.


Absorbing Rod. He's lying in a pile of debris, and he hasn't so much as twitched since the dust settled. Whatever's wrong with him, odds are the goon squad isn't going to be able to help.



If he wasn't surrounded by the dead and dying, he could've kissed her right there. The Scrapscallion wiped the grime from his goggles and popped the stiffness from his neck.

"Start counting!"

And he was off. He backflipped onto the ruined table, somersaulted off a stunned guard's helmet, grabbed hold of the broken water pipe, and flung himself through the hole in the ceiling. No crowded hallways or maze-like corridors for him. You want to get someplace quick? You gotta be prepared to get dirty. Metaphorically speaking, in this case.

[Rolling to Act Under Fire. 6 + 2 + 2 = 10]

*Medical Wing, twenty-seven seconds later*

The Scrapscallion came crashing down through the ceiling, landing right in the midst of a pack of startled doctors. "Explosion in the conference room!" He shouted before anypony could say a word. "We got dying ponies, people! MOVE!"

The doctors all take one look at you, and before you know it a good dozen of them are following your tail back to the blast zone. Bone saws, syringes and other unspeakably horrible tools of lifesaving.

They reach Absorbing Rod just in time, and you're treated to the workpony's eyes opening as one of the doctors hits him with an adrenaline shot, just before he can slip away. His gaze focuses on you for just a moment, and you know he's going to make it.

How does it feel, to save a life? Is it something you inherently feel good about? or is it the idea of having a pony in your debt you value more?

[Elanorin]

Did you catch my answer to Luminark before? The answer to Milliway is about the same. The best way out is for either yourself or Luminark to give yourselves up for a good beating and ...

Well, it looks like Prancer is about to make that decision for you.

The earth pony really doesn't like the way you've been clinging to Luminark. After all, that pony is just the lap-dog of the Archmage, the go-fer. He doesn't deserve you. Not like Prancer does.

He grabs you roughly away, determinedly dragging you towards the exit. Forced Smile seems surprised, but ends up just grinning at the younger pony's enthusiasm. Content to follow his subordinate's lead so long as one of you two ends up getting hurt.


"No, wait, ow! Stop!" Milliway feebly protests, flailing, grabbing anything they pass and generally trying her best to dig her hooves in but failing horribly as she's being dragged off. She does leave a wake of mess, however. "Where are you taking me? This is all a setup! I'm the bestest and-and loyalest friend there is! Y-you should be helping me! N-not- not- A true true friend helps a frieee-eend in neeeeed! A friend will beee there to help them see-eee..." Milliway burst desperately in to song, her voice reaching new and, not entirely pleasant, highs. She seemed inclined to keep singing until her captor was assured of her Genuine True Friend status.

[Thanqol]

Oh for goodness sakes, thought Luminark. Time to see how hard he could bank on 'so long as somepony gets hurt.'

His horn blares a sharp, commanding flow of pink salmon light and without grace or finesse he telekinetically snatches Prancer's baton and beats the crap out of him with it.

Seize By Force: 7. Take definite hold of it, impress dismay and terrify.

[Balmas]

Well, this isn't like an ambush. There's nopony here drawing a bead on you and it's not as if somepony is walking around with a bright sign on them saying "I did it!".

With all the ponies bustling in and out, and most of those your Friendship Police to boot, only a suicidal pony would attempt something on you in here. No, if you're wondering what you should be on the lookout for, the answer is the follow-up stroke. Whomever tried to kill the ponies in here probably had some other plan, and it's not likely that it stops just at one bomb.

So what you're saying is that I should be looking for someone who stands to gain from this, but who is not currently here. Thanks, Doc. That's just what I need to know. And I signal one of my leads to go and find the assistant heads of department, and hold them indefinitely for questioning.

Right now, though, I'm going to check under the tables, in the nooks and crannies, for anything resembling explosives. They called me paranoid, but they'd see! They'd allll see!

[TheAmishPirate]

The doctors all take one look at you, and before you know it a good dozen of them are following your tail back to the blast zone. Bone saws, syringes and other unspeakably horrible tools of lifesaving.

They reach Absorbing Rod just in time, and you're treated to the workpony's eyes opening as one of the doctors hits him with an adrenaline shot, just before he can slip away. His gaze focuses on you for just a moment, and you know he's going to make it.

How does it feel, to save a life? Is it something you inherently feel good about? or is it the idea of having a pony in your debt you value more?

I mean, feels good, I guess? I wasn't that close to the guy, but I'm not some freak Viper who gets his kicks watching ponies bleed out. And I'm not some Nightmare debt collector either. Like, I feel good, because what's there to feel bad about here? He's not dead, he owes me one, I won the race, I think we're all pretty happy about this. Why're you trying to make me put numbers on this stuff? Why's one thing gotta be better than the other?

You're giving me the weirds, man.


So what you're saying is that I should be looking for someone who stands to gain from this, but who is not currently here. Thanks, Doc. That's just what I need to know. And I signal one of my leads to go and find the assistant heads of department, and hold them indefinitely for questioning.

Right now, though, I'm going to check under the tables, in the nooks and crannies, for anything resembling explosives. They called me paranoid, but they'd see! They'd allll see!

Also right about now, the Scrapscallion returns in triumph! An ordinary pony would be sweaty and gross, thick with ceiling dust, and stained with blood. But the Scrapscallion claims victory in style. "One minute, fifty-seven seconds," He proudly reports, flicking his goggles up.

[BlasTech]

Oh for goodness sakes, thought Luminark. Time to see how hard he could bank on 'so long as somepony gets hurt.'

His horn blares a sharp, commanding flow of pink salmon light and without grace or finesse he telekinetically snatches Prancer's baton and beats the crap out of him with it.

Seize By Force: 7. Take definite hold of it, impress dismay and terrify.

Luminark, Forced Smile watches on as you proceed to beat Prancer into a bloody pulp. Despite his attempt to grab the baton back, you've got a firm enough grip on the thing.

When you're done, Forced Smile turns to you.

"Well ... that was somethin'." he says, staring you right in the eyes. "One'd almost think you make a habit of it, beatin' up us here representatives of the Friendship patrol."

"You gonna take a swing at me now, colt?"

Well, do you?


So what you're saying is that I should be looking for someone who stands to gain from this, but who is not currently here. Thanks, Doc. That's just what I need to know. And I signal one of my leads to go and find the assistant heads of department, and hold them indefinitely for questioning.

Right now, though, I'm going to check under the tables, in the nooks and crannies, for anything resembling explosives. They called me paranoid, but they'd see! They'd allll see!

You remember that 'important thing' you missed earlier? Yeah, that was somepony removing the debris from the bomb. With all the guards coming in and out, it could've been one of them, or maybe one of the doctors who are now piling in the place. Or somepony else? You've lost track in all the chaos.

In the meantime, Friend Pony heads off to collect the researchers.

With doctors piling in now, and most of the ponies getting triaged, things seem to be calming down in the office. Or at least getting back under control. What do you do next?

[Thanqol]

Luminark, Forced Smile watches on as you proceed to beat Prancer into a bloody pulp. Despite his attempt to grab the baton back, you've got a firm enough grip on the thing.

When you're done, Forced Smile turns to you.

"Well ... that was somethin'." he says, staring you right in the eyes. "One'd almost think you make a habit of it, beatin' up us here representatives of the Friendship patrol."

"You gonna take a swing at me now, colt?"

Well, do you?

Luminark was feeling a deep, electric thrill across the front of his brain, a crackling sparkling focus that came from the afterwash of magic through his horn and into his brain. A sudden jolt of light and for a moment he seems two-dimensional, like a picture of a pony, and then he's out of the ropes and back to normal. He spins the baton in the air and then matches Forced Smile's stare.

"Take a swing at you?" said Luminark, faint arcs of light shining between the spikes on his headdress. "You? I am Luminark, Apprentice to the Archmage Moondancer, Marquis of Level Four and," this was the important part so he stressed it, "on extremely good terms with her Royal Highness, Administrator Starlight Glimmer. And you. Have. Allowed. Somepony. To. Touch. My." and this part was the most important to him so he snarled it. "Property."

He stepped forwards and put one hoof on the bloodied Prancer's neck. "Give me your service weapon and maybe I don't make something of your role in this."

[Go Aggro: 8]

[Balmas]

You remember that 'important thing' you missed earlier? Yeah, that was somepony removing the debris from the bomb. With all the guards coming in and out, it could've been one of them, or maybe one of the doctors who are now piling in the place. Or somepony else? You've lost track in all the chaos.

In the meantime, Friend Pony heads off to collect the researchers.

With doctors piling in now, and most of the ponies getting triaged, things seem to be calming down in the office. Or at least getting back under control. What do you do next?

What do you mean by they removed the debris from the bomb? Like, they uncovered where the original bomb was? I'm afraid I don't understand the statement well.

If the secondary bomb is gone, then I'm going to help bandage up my little ponies.


Also right about now, the Scrapscallion returns in triumph! An ordinary pony would be sweaty and gross, thick with ceiling dust, and stained with blood. But the Scrapscallion claims victory in style. "One minute, fifty-seven seconds," He proudly reports, flicking his goggles up.

"Well done," she compliments. "I'm afraid both of our outings are going to be delayed perhaps a bit. It seems we have a saboteur in our midst."

[BlasTech]

Luminark was feeling a deep, electric thrill across the front of his brain, a crackling sparkling focus that came from the afterwash of magic through his horn and into his brain. A sudden jolt of light and for a moment he seems two-dimensional, like a picture of a pony, and then he's out of the ropes and back to normal. He spins the baton in the air and then matches Forced Smile's stare.

"Take a swing at you?" said Luminark, faint arcs of light shining between the spikes on his headdress. "You? I am Luminark, Apprentice to the Archmage Moondancer, Marquis of Level Four and," this was the important part so he stressed it, "on extremely good terms with her Royal Highness, Administrator Starlight Glimmer. And you. Have. Allowed. Somepony. To. Touch. My." and this part was the most important to him so he snarled it. "Property."

He stepped forwards and put one hoof on the bloodied Prancer's neck. "Give me your service weapon and maybe I don't make something of your role in this."

[Go Aggro: 8]

Prancer didn't seem to be in much of a position to answer, so Forced Smile made his answer for him. Besides being a bully, the lead pony had something of a yellow streak on him that had nothing to do with his mane colour.

"Ah, well, it seems Prancer isn't feeling too well. Silly-Pony-itis looks like. Probably fell down some stairs." he said, hurriedly pulling the semi-conscious pony up.

"It seems like everything is in order here, carry on. No friendship reports today. Sayhitotheadministratorforus!"

The last was said at a jog, as he bustled his remaining, slightly confused, posse out the door.


What do you mean by they removed the debris from the bomb? Like, they uncovered where the original bomb was? I'm afraid I don't understand the statement well.

If the secondary bomb is gone, then I'm going to help bandage up my little ponies.

"Well done," she compliments. "I'm afraid both of our outings are going to be delayed perhaps a bit. It seems we have a saboteur in our midst."

What I meant is that any remnant of the first bomb - you know, the stuff that might've been "forensically interesting" has been hoofed off by somepony. You'd have thought that even a blast as powerful as that might have left something recognisable behind. Like a piece of briefcase, or some electronics. But there doesn't seem to be anything out of place in the room.

That goes for additional bombs by the way. There isn't a second bomb - at least, not in here.

Tell me, if there was to be a second bomb, where would you be most worried about it turning up?

[Elanorin]

Luminark, Forced Smile watches on as you proceed to beat Prancer into a bloody pulp. Despite his attempt to grab the baton back, you've got a firm enough grip on the thing.

When you're done, Forced Smile turns to you.

"Well ... that was somethin'." he says, staring you right in the eyes. "One'd almost think you make a habit of it, beatin' up us here representatives of the Friendship patrol."

"You gonna take a swing at me now, colt?"

This sounds like just the opportunity to skedaddle - surely in the midst of being beaten to a pulp, Prancer loses his hold on Milliway?

But then...


Luminark was feeling a deep, electric thrill across the front of his brain, a crackling sparkling focus that came from the afterwash of magic through his horn and into his brain. A sudden jolt of light and for a moment he seems two-dimensional, like a picture of a pony, and then he's out of the ropes and back to normal. He spins the baton in the air and then matches Forced Smile's stare.

"Take a swing at you?" said Luminark, faint arcs of light shining between the spikes on his headdress. "You? I am Luminark, Apprentice to the Archmage Moondancer, Marquis of Level Four and," this was the important part so he stressed it, "on extremely good terms with her Royal Highness, Administrator Starlight Glimmer. And you. Have. Allowed. Somepony. To. Touch. My." and this part was the most important to him so he snarled it. "Property."

He stepped forwards and put one hoof on the bloodied Prancer's neck. "Give me your service weapon and maybe I don't make something of your role in this."

...there was this, which was just too interesting to run from, so Milliway scrambled for cover, but made sure to get a good view and stay within earshot as she hid. And watched.

That thing. It was doing... stuff. She couldn't stop staring as her mind started its gears and began to process what it was witnessing, trying to quantify it. It conducted electricity? Where did it source it? Did it have hidden inset crystals? Was there some part of it hidden? Was it wired to him? Was he part synthetic? The possibilities were endless but the more questions that bubbled to the surface in her mind, the more she could sense a want to get her hooves on that... thing.

It was only fair, she reckoned, he took her eye after all.

[Thanqol]

Luminark sniffed a haughty sniff, blasting little fragments of dust and muck from his clothes with bright shocks of light. He let anger roll through and out of him. He would very much like to have pressed the matter but he was acutely aware he was unarmed and unarmoured, and he was occupying some manner of slum. He didn't immediately see Milliway but he didn't care about that because it didn't matter and she was probably behind this entire humiliation to begin with.

This had probably all come to pass because ponies had stopped respecting him. Fear needed refreshers.

"What's the phrase?" he murmured, "I'll show them, I'll show them all?"

He started towards the door.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Well done," she compliments. "I'm afraid both of our outings are going to be delayed perhaps a bit. It seems we have a saboteur in our midst."

The Scrapscallion took a high dive into her praise, swam a backstroke through it, and guzzled it down like so much Sparkle Cola. It was sweet to his soul and life to his bones. Bones which may now be cracked in several places. He should look into fixing that.

"Yeah. Not like conference rooms explode for no reason." He said, pacing restlessly. "...nopony's working on that, right? Nopony's making exploding rooms? Please tell me nopony's making exploding rooms." The day he scores a hot date with a Princess, and somepony goes and bombs the higher-ups. Typical. Now what was he going to do with himself?

Actually, I think you can help answer that question, Princess. What exactly is the Scrapscallion's position in this Bunker of yours? It sounds like you've got a fairly organized hierarchy of scientists and departments, but he doesn't do science. His contributions are more indrect. So is he just a pony you've hired on as a go-fer? Or does he have an official position? Either way, what are his responsibilities?

I mean, there's a solid chance he's about to ignore them completely, but it's good to know where you stand.

[Elanorin]

Luminark sniffed a haughty sniff, blasting little fragments of dust and muck from his clothes with bright shocks of light. He let anger roll through and out of him. He would very much like to have pressed the matter but he was acutely aware he was unarmed and unarmoured, and he was occupying some manner of slum. He didn't immediately see Milliway but he didn't care about that because it didn't matter and she was probably behind this entire humiliation to begin with.

This had probably all come to pass because ponies had stopped respecting him. Fear needed refreshers.

"What's the phrase?" he murmured, "I'll show them, I'll show them all?"

He started towards the door.

There was a scrape, a tink and then what sounded like somepony accidentally kicking a toolbox over and spilling its contents, shortly followed by softly whispered curses and profanity.

Milliway emerged, backwards, from behind her hiding place, little screws and bolts rolling around her hooves. She looked over to Luminark, then threw quick worried glances around as she took a few cautious tinking steps towards him, limping just a little.

"Uhm... are... are they gone?" she managed, quietly. She had calmed down a bit from her panicked singing episode (and clearly hoped nopony would remember that part of the whole encounter) but was still obviously nervous about the proximity of the Friendship Patrol.

[Thanqol]

There was a scrape, a tink and then what sounded like somepony accidentally kicking a toolbox over and spilling its contents, shortly followed by softly whispered curses and profanity.

Milliway emerged, backwards, from behind her hiding place, little screws and bolts rolling around her hooves. She looked over to Luminark, then threw quick worried glances around as she took a few cautious tinking steps towards him, limping just a little.

"Uhm... are... are they gone?" she managed, quietly. She had calmed down a bit from her panicked singing episode (and clearly hoped nopony would remember that part of the whole encounter) but was still obviously nervous about the proximity of the Friendship Patrol.

"Temporarily," said Luminark haughtily. "I intend to make it permanently."

Did that sound badass? He hoped it did. He felt pretty buzzed right now. He'd just gone full Battlemage on this situation.

[Balmas]

Man, y'all are more full of awkward questions than a filly who catches her parents schtupping, you know that?


That goes for additional bombs by the way. There isn't a second bomb - at least, not in here.

Tell me, if there was to be a second bomb, where would you be most worried about it turning up?


"Target Practice!" I snap. "Divvy up your squad and go to check the generators and the experimental weapons range!" It was inconceivable that anyone in this bunker could do anything that their Princess would despise, but the very evidence sat before her eyes. And she would make sure that everyone in the town had no choice but to love her!


The Scrapscallion took a high dive into her praise, swam a backstroke through it, and guzzled it down like so much Sparkle Cola. It was sweet to his soul and life to his bones. Bones which may now be cracked in several places. He should look into fixing that.

"Yeah. Not like conference rooms explode for no reason." He said, pacing restlessly. "...nopony's working on that, right? Nopony's making exploding rooms? Please tell me nopony's making exploding rooms." The day he scores a hot date with a Princess, and somepony goes and bombs the higher-ups. Typical. Now what was he going to do with himself?

Actually, I think you can help answer that question, Princess. What exactly is the Scrapscallion's position in this Bunker of yours? It sounds like you've got a fairly organized hierarchy of scientists and departments, but he doesn't do science. His contributions are more indrect. So is he just a pony you've hired on as a go-fer? Or does he have an official position? Either way, what are his responsibilities?

I mean, there's a solid chance he's about to ignore them completely, but it's good to know where you stand.

And it is well that he should revel in my praise, for it is not often that I take a break from my own magnificence to notice others.

And really, it's almost a relationship of pity between you and I. You see, at the top, there's me. Then the captains of the friendship patrols. Then there's the heads. And then, not you, let me finish. Then the assistant heads, then the rest of the friendship patrols, and then the regular ponies. Then we have the various experiments. Then the plants. And then there's you.

Officially, you have no position in the organization. Really, I ought to fix that; it's not orderly for you to be able to run around. I think I tried at one point, but... Has anyone told you that you're absolutely infuriating? I go out of my way to fit you into my organization and you refuse to just fit neatly.

[Elanorin]

"Temporarily," said Luminark haughtily. "I intend to make it permanently."

Did that sound badass? He hoped it did. He felt pretty buzzed right now. He'd just gone full Battlemage on this situation.

This was it, they were alone again, this was a good time to resume the violence and torture that had been so rudely interrupted. But then he goes and says that.

Milliway's head suddenly looked up in surprise and eyed him over from headdress-to-be-stolen to hoof, unable to resist being a little bit impressed.

"You're going to get rid of the Friendship Patrol? How?" If there was one thing more important to Milliway than... well, anything, it was this. Violence deferred.

[TheAmishPirate]

And it is well that he should revel in my praise, for it is not often that I take a break from my own magnificence to notice others.

And really, it's almost a relationship of pity between you and I. You see, at the top, there's me. Then the captains of the friendship patrols. Then there's the heads. And then, not you, let me finish. Then the assistant heads, then the rest of the friendship patrols, and then the regular ponies. Then we have the various experiments. Then the plants. And then there's you.

Officially, you have no position in the organization. Really, I ought to fix that; it's not orderly for you to be able to run around. I think I tried at one point, but... Has anyone told you that you're absolutely infuriating? I go out of my way to fit you into my organization and you refuse to just fit neatly.

You know you love me.~

Having not received neither confirmation nor denial on the existence of exploding rooms - and with no clear orders or responsibilities - it was up to the Scrapscallion to choose his own way. And right now, he felt like preparing for whatever was coming next. There was a drive on the horizon, or chasing down a criminal. Or maybe both at the same time, if he was lucky. "If that's all for now, I better go see how many pills the docs want me to chug," he said, flicking his tail about. "Need somepony to find what went screwy with the sandstorms, you know where to find me. You need a breather from all this..."

He leaned up to whisper softly in her ear. "Come on over, and I'll take your breath away.~"

[This feels like a time to Seduce the Princess again. 2 + 1 + 1 = 4 It was bound to fail eventually. :smallbiggrin:]

[BlasTech]

"Target Practice!" I snap. "Divvy up your squad and go to check the generators and the experimental weapons range!" It was inconceivable that anyone in this bunker could do anything that their Princess would despise, but the very evidence sat before her eyes. And she would make sure that everyone in the town had no choice but to love her!



You know you love me.~

Having not received neither confirmation nor denial on the existence of exploding rooms - and with no clear orders or responsibilities - it was up to the Scrapscallion to choose his own way. And right now, he felt like preparing for whatever was coming next. There was a drive on the horizon, or chasing down a criminal. Or maybe both at the same time, if he was lucky. "If that's all for now, I better go see how many pills the docs want me to chug," he said, flicking his tail about. "Need somepony to find what went screwy with the sandstorms, you know where to find me. You need a breather from all this..."

He leaned up to whisper softly in her ear. "Come on over, and I'll take your breath away.~"

[This feels like a time to Seduce the Princess again. 2 + 1 + 1 = 4 It was bound to fail eventually. :smallbiggrin:]

*Kssshttt*

One of the Friendship Patrol spoke a few words to the pony on the other end before stepping up to Starlight.

"Madam Administrator, Target Practice had us heading down to the generators, but we've located something on the way. You'd better come see."

-==-

Buddies Squadron was milling around outside the generators, and saluted as their Administrator approached. Target Practice nodded in acknowledgement, but was mostly concerned with reading the output from a terminal that2# one of the patrolponies was holding up for him.

"Oh good, you brought the Scrap pony." muttered Target. "Maybe he can tell us if he knows what this is?"

The pony held up a piece of wreckage that looked like a hemispherical steel ball trailing circuitry and wires. Scrapscallion, it looks like one of your bike's hover projectors - either stolen from your backups or ripped right off the chassis of your bike!

[TheAmishPirate]

Buddies Squadron was milling around outside the generators, and saluted as their Administrator approached. Target Practice nodded in acknowledgement, but was mostly concerned with reading the output from a terminal that2# one of the patrolponies was holding up for him.

"Oh good, you brought the Scrap pony." muttered Target. "Maybe he can tell us if he knows what this is?"

The pony held up a piece of wreckage that looked like a hemispherical steel ball trailing circuitry and wires. Scrapscallion, it looks like one of your bike's hover projectors - either stolen from your backups or ripped right off the chassis of your bike!

"It's Scrapscallion." He corrected with a resigned shake of the head. Why was his name so hard for ponies to understand?

Whatever remained of his good humor dried up as he saw what Target was carrying. "What the hell?! That's one of my hover projectors!" He snatched it up, examining the back with a tasteful selection of offended interjections. "Jeez, you've screwed up all the wires and crap...wasn't ripped like that before..." He glared at Target Practice. "What'd you go and tear that off for? Peregrine's a tough old bird, but she's going to be awful cranky about this."

[Thanqol]

This was it, they were alone again, this was a good time to resume the violence and torture that had been so rudely interrupted. But then he goes and says that.

Milliway's head suddenly looked up in surprise and eyed him over from headdress-to-be-stolen to hoof, unable to resist being a little bit impressed.

"You're going to get rid of the Friendship Patrol? How?" If there was one thing more important to Milliway than... well, anything, it was this. Violence deferred.

"I am apprenticed to the greatest archmage in all the... ever," said Luminark, ego rising in time. "My range of options are limitless. I shall see what inspiration strikes when I visit the stacks."

[Elanorin]

"I am apprenticed to the greatest archmage in all the... ever," said Luminark, ego rising in time. "My range of options are limitless. I shall see what inspiration strikes when I visit the stacks."

'Apprenticed'? That's what they called it? Milliway wasn't sure if she should pity him or admire him. Either this pony was utterly deluded, not realising just how used he was. Or he knew everything exactly how it was and this humble worship was genuine and by choice. That would require a kind of strength of character Milliway really wasn't willing to grant to anypony. Certainly not Luminark. So pity it was.

"Right," the impressiveness over Luminark melted away like butter in the sun. "So what you're saying is you have no clue how to do what you just said so your plan is to run home to your other half to ask for instructions?" she clarified, with a look of, well, something. "Don't forget to ask if she will extend your curfew while you're at it. Don't want to get in to trouble for being out past your bedtime." Condescending, yes, that's what that look was. It was in her voice too.

[Thanqol]

'Apprenticed'? That's what they called it? Milliway wasn't sure if she should pity him or admire him. Either this pony was utterly deluded, not realising just how used he was. Or he knew everything exactly how it was and this humble worship was genuine and by choice. That would require a kind of strength of character Milliway really wasn't willing to grant to anypony. Certainly not Luminark. So pity it was.

"Right," the impressiveness over Luminark melted away like butter in the sun. "So what you're saying is you have no clue how to do what you just said so your plan is to run home to your other half to ask for instructions?" she clarified, with a look of, well, something. "Don't forget to ask if she will extend your curfew while you're at it. Don't want to get in to trouble for being out past your bedtime." Condescending, yes, that's what that look was. It was in her voice too.

"I understand the limited earth pony imagination can only comprehend the act of recovering knowledge from the ancients through the lens of their own stunted familial experience," sniffed Luminark haughtily, turning on hoof and heading for the door with his nose in the air. "But I shall show you - and I shall show them all."

It stung, of course, to be sneered at, but he had a great deal of pride in his apprenticeship. Ponies would - and had tried to - kill for his position so it was hardly his problem if she couldn't see it's value. He just had to make her see it.

[Elanorin]

"I understand the limited earth pony imagination can only comprehend the act of recovering knowledge from the ancients through the lens of their own stunted familial experience," sniffed Luminark haughtily, turning on hoof and heading for the door with his nose in the air. "But I shall show you - and I shall show them all."

It stung, of course, to be sneered at, but he had a great deal of pride in his apprenticeship. Ponies would - and had tried to - kill for his position so it was hardly his problem if she couldn't see it's value. He just had to make her see it.

Milliway was tempted to give a snarky reply, turn hoof and saunter off in the opposite direction with her head high, just like him, but paused herself. Then, for a second a wicked smile flashed before she stifled it and feigned innocence as she started after him, matching his pace, following close behind.

"Okay," she said softly, "show me."

[Balmas]

*Kssshttt*

One of the Friendship Patrol spoke a few words to the pony on the other end before stepping up to Starlight.

"Madam Administrator, Target Practice had us heading down to the generators, but we've located something on the way. You'd better come see."

-==-

Buddies Squadron was milling around outside the generators, and saluted as their Administrator approached. Target Practice nodded in acknowledgement, but was mostly concerned with reading the output from a terminal that2# one of the patrolponies was holding up for him.

"Oh good, you brought the Scrap pony." muttered Target. "Maybe he can tell us if he knows what this is?"

The pony held up a piece of wreckage that looked like a hemispherical steel ball trailing circuitry and wires. Scrapscallion, it looks like one of your bike's hover projectors - either stolen from your backups or ripped right off the chassis of your bike!


"It's Scrapscallion." He corrected with a resigned shake of the head. Why was his name so hard for ponies to understand?

Whatever remained of his good humor dried up as he saw what Target was carrying. "What the hell?! That's one of my hover projectors!" He snatched it up, examining the back with a tasteful selection of offended interjections. "Jeez, you've screwed up all the wires and crap...wasn't ripped like that before..." He glared at Target Practice. "What'd you go and tear that off for? Peregrine's a tough old bird, but she's going to be awful cranky about this."

Starlight snarled, and a thunderstorm began to brew around her horn. "My patience begins to wear thin with your impertinence. You're going to tell me exactly why bits of your car are in my generator room. Who could have the technology to rip your car apart. Who has access to your garage. Who sneezed at you wrong last tuesday, everything you know. And you're going to do that because if you don't, our date tonight will be in one of the holding cells."

Go Aggro on the Scapscallion: 6,1, +2, [9]. Tell Starlight everything you know related to why this would be here, or you'll get some personal Friendship Retraining with Starlight herself.

"Keep in mind, the only reason I'm not having you hauled away in chains this instant is because your quick actions may have saved some of my scientists' lives."

[TheAmishPirate]

Starlight snarled, and a thunderstorm began to brew around her horn. "My patience begins to wear thin with your impertinence. You're going to tell me exactly why bits of your car are in my generator room. Who could have the technology to rip your car apart. Who has access to your garage. Who sneezed at you wrong last tuesday, everything you know. And you're going to do that because if you don't, our date tonight will be in one of the holding cells."

Go Aggro on the Scapscallion: 6,1, +2, [9]. Tell Starlight everything you know related to why this would be here, or you'll get some personal Friendship Retraining with Starlight herself.

"Keep in mind, the only reason I'm not having you hauled away in chains this instant is because your quick actions may have saved some of my scientists' lives."

Quick as lighting - wait, poor choice of words. Quick as the wind, the Scrapscallion bowed his nose low to the floor. "You don't gotta do any of that, your most High Equalityness. The Scrapscallion's happy to oblige. Always is. Always has been." He kissed Starlight's hoof reverently. And with just a touch of desperation.

He sat up on his haunches, looking over the device with freshly-motivated scrutiny. "Alright. Okay. No, I don't know how this got in the generator room. I do know it wasn't just forced off. You'd see a lot more torn wires that way. Whoever did this wasn't gentle, but they knew what they were doing. And they had the tools to make it happen. You can't just pop bits off a hoverbike with your bare hooves and horn. Best guess would be somepony from Engineering. They'd also be best at breaking in. I got locks on the door, but, y'know, those can be forced." His garage was basically just a storage shed that had a door to the outside. Because of that, none of the other scientists wanted anything to do with it, which made it the perfect place to store his bike. And hide from the eggheads. "It...could be one of the spare projectors I keep around, but I can't tell just by looking at it. But they'd have to do some real digging to find those." He added hastily. "It'd be super obvious if somepony did that."

"...maybe you should ask Target Practice exactly where he found it?" He suggested, shooting the security pony a dirty look once the Princess looked away.

[Balmas]

Starlight skewered the Scrapscallion with her glare. "...Very well." She frowned, and scanned among the members of Buddies squadron. Let's see, who was the burliest member of the team? Ahhh, perfect. She'd recognize that massive-barreled stallion anywhere. Though for him, it may be been more appropirate to use tuns...

"Kneecapper. I'm aware that you must be very busy, and eager to go home to your husband. However, I have a job for you." She grinned, showing far more teeth than were strictly necessary. "This pony is a hero. And as such, he deserves to have an escort. Please, follow him and keep him... Safe."

And with that, Starlight set off. Ponies to save, traitors to retrain, so much time and so little to do in it.

[TheAmishPirate]

Starlight skewered the Scrapscallion with her glare. "...Very well."

The Scrapscallion offered her an easy smile. All friends here. No need to lock anypony up in the cold, dark, tight, suffocating cells today. None at all.


She frowned, and scanned among the members of Buddies squadron. Let's see, who was the burliest member of the team? Ahhh, perfect. She'd recognize that massive-barreled stallion anywhere. Though for him, it may be been more appropirate to use tuns...

"Kneecapper. I'm aware that you must be very busy, and eager to go home to your husband. However, I have a job for you." She grinned, showing far more teeth than were strictly necessary. "This pony is a hero. And as such, he deserves to have an escort. Please, follow him and keep him... Safe."

And with that, Starlight set off. Ponies to save, traitors to retrain, so much time and so little to do in it.

Oh thank goodness she believed him. I mean, of course she believed him. She was a Princess, they were good at making the right decisions. But hero? The Scrapscallion carried himself just a little bit taller. He liked the way she said that...

"Thank you, your High Equalityness. C'mon Cap. Let's go put this baby back with her friends." He patted the hover generator lovingly, and sauntered off towards his garage.

[BlasTech]

"Thank you, your High Equalityness. C'mon Cap. Let's go put this baby back with her friends." He patted the hover generator lovingly, and sauntered off towards his garage.

Okay, so you're heading back to the garage. Tell me what it's like. Is it on the surface, or underground? How do you get your hoverbike in or out, and how do you lock the place up at night. You probably have to share facilities, in a bunker as crowded as this, so tell me who else works there and what they do with their lives.


And with that, Starlight set off. Ponies to save, traitors to retrain, so much time and so little to do in it.

So, as you're walking off. Protection Racket comes up to report that they've got the divisional assistants all in custody ... well, most of them at least. One of them, Carat, is off in the deep tunnels and the Friendship Patrol hasn't gotten a hold of her yet.

Oh, did I not mention the deep tunnels before? Well, when you're all living underground and looking to perform SCIENCE, there's really only one direction to build. Downwards. Carat is part of the Geology and Gemology department (GG for short), and spends almost all her time down there, hunting pockets of minerals to fuel her experiments.

Do you go down looking for her? Or do you head to interrogate the remaining assistant-heads? Or is there some other destination you have in mind?


"I understand the limited earth pony imagination can only comprehend the act of recovering knowledge from the ancients through the lens of their own stunted familial experience," sniffed Luminark haughtily, turning on hoof and heading for the door with his nose in the air. "But I shall show you - and I shall show them all."

It stung, of course, to be sneered at, but he had a great deal of pride in his apprenticeship. Ponies would - and had tried to - kill for his position so it was hardly his problem if she couldn't see it's value. He just had to make her see it.

So, how are you going to "make her see it?"

Is it time for a visit to your boss, Archmage Moondancer. She of the grounded constellations, and the Eternal Search. She who could turn you inside out with a thought, or curse every waking moment in the long long long life you would then lead?

Or, y'know, are you just going to show Milliway your ant farm?

[Thanqol]

So, how are you going to "make her see it?"

Is it time for a visit to your boss, Archmage Moondancer. She of the grounded constellations, and the Eternal Search. She who could turn you inside out with a thought, or curse every waking moment in the long long long life you would then lead?

Or, y'know, are you just going to show Milliway your ant farm?

"The ant farm is an exercise in precision synchronistic bio-necromantic engineering," Luminark was explaining. "Using necromantically reanimated ants to perform high-risk functions for the benefit of the hive allows incredible durability in times of crisis and the stockpile of potential labour for times of plenty!"

The ant farm was more than just a fascinating marvel of sociology and magic entwined, it was the physical manifestation of a twenty-year old thought experiment his moms had about how they could improve the efficiency of the bunker if they were put in charge. Nopony had yet taken them up on a full scale field test.

Luminark thought that was a fixable mistake.

The archives of the Library were crammed with more than just books. Catalogued Dewey Decimally amidst the stacks were death rays, glowing green vials, potions, medicines, plants, growing networks and vats containing corpses and specimens from all across time and space. The Library itself had that special space-distorting effect that very large collections of books naturally accumulated, with the whisper and murmur of books muttering their secrets to each other and shifting the boundaries of the world according to their own designs. Knowledge is power. Power is energy. Energy is mass divided by the speed of light squared. The interior of the library was bigger than the entire bunker. The last apprentice was said to have gotten lost and eaten by the books.

Now there was no particular need to seek the Archmage out directly. She was working. She was busy. She didn't want to be disturbed, probably. If she wanted something she certainly didn't need to go through the bother of showing up in person, she could just put the thoughts into his head. So why bother her? She was very busy. And as long as she didn't have some project in mind he shouldn't disturb her.

(her mane had started glowing and flowing all princess-y at some point. she still kept it pinned up in an extremely severe bun.)

So Luminark was chattering along the tour, carefully noting every turn he took with a little chalk mark on the floor, browsing the shelves for something. His situation is, essentially, that he figures he's threatened by the large number of armed friendship patrols and wasteland warriors and whatever who might pose harm to his person, so he'd like some way to make sure he can bring them all down.

[Going into my hoard and rolling a 5. Yep, that'd be right - and why I was big on the change to the Hold the MC gets.

You gotta give me something I'd genuinely find useful in that situation, but hunger immediately goes to +4.]

[TheAmishPirate]

Okay, so you're heading back to the garage. Tell me what it's like. Is it on the surface, or underground? How do you get your hoverbike in or out, and how do you lock the place up at night. You probably have to share facilities, in a bunker as crowded as this, so tell me who else works there and what they do with their lives.

Of course it's on the surface. Don't get me wrong; I love tunnel drives. Barreling headlong into the dark, headlights only reaching far enough to see the next stalagmite, death just a moment's hesitation away, mmmmmm! There's nothing like it. Of course, you don't find many ponies or science-y crap down there. Unless you count the skeletons. But the best pickings are on the surface, so that's where my roads lead.

The surface level of the bunker has these huge hangars, back from the war days. I think they used to hold airships, maybe tanks, maybe both. (Ohhhhhhhh baby. If I got my hooves on one of those...) Anyway, they got lots of open space, and gates leading to the outside, so it's the perfect place to stash my bike. And my tools. And my replacement parts. And a hammock for hanging out, if you know what I mean. Whenever I want to make a run, I radio one of the control rooms, and they open the gates for me. There's layers of them, see. One for the hangar, one for the main walls, and one for the outer fences. Good for keeping out unwanted pests, bad when you're coming in hot.

Now, most ponies? They don't like being so close to the surface. Apparently "lethal doses of radiation" and "partial sunlight" are disagreeable to the average labcoat's delicate constitution. Wiiiiiiiiiith one tiny exception. The Environmental Science Division, a sub-branch of Trees' department, Princess rest her soul. All their experiments have to do with weather and storms and how plants grow and crap like that, so they're all too eager to gobble up all the space they can. I think they'd work outside if the Princess let them. Sometimes wish they would. You know how hard it is to entertain company when you got fifteen ponies giving you the stinkeye? Maybe they should try getting a room. We all try to keep to our corners, but the boundaries are fiercely contested. No official complaints yet, though that might be because nopony fancies going in for Friendship Training. Or maybe one of the higher-ups has a thing for leather jackets, dangerous stunts, and cool hero names.

Oh, this does mean that I'd like to make a correction to what I told the Princess. The Biology department also has some amount of control over who gets into my particular hangar. I lock up all my stuff myself, but those are just padlocks.

Now, as for why I'm going to the garage, I'm just looking to drop off this hover projector, and figure out what happened. Did somepony tear this off my bike, or steal a spare? Did they take anything else? If the situation doesn't require my immediate attention, then I should probably go get patched up before dealing with this.

[Elanorin]

"The ant farm is an exercise in precision synchronistic bio-necromantic engineering," Luminark was explaining. "Using necromantically reanimated ants to perform high-risk functions for the benefit of the hive allows incredible durability in times of crisis and the stockpile of potential labour for times of plenty!"

The ant farm was more than just a fascinating marvel of sociology and magic entwined, it was the physical manifestation of a twenty-year old thought experiment his moms had about how they could improve the efficiency of the bunker if they were put in charge. Nopony had yet taken them up on a full scale field test.

Luminark thought that was a fixable mistake.

The archives of the Library were crammed with more than just books. Catalogued Dewey Decimally amidst the stacks were death rays, glowing green vials, potions, medicines, plants, growing networks and vats containing corpses and specimens from all across time and space. The Library itself had that special space-distorting effect that very large collections of books naturally accumulated, with the whisper and murmur of books muttering their secrets to each other and shifting the boundaries of the world according to their own designs. Knowledge is power. Power is energy. Energy is mass divided by the speed of light squared. The interior of the library was bigger than the entire bunker. The last apprentice was said to have gotten lost and eaten by the books.

Now there was no particular need to seek the Archmage out directly. She was working. She was busy. She didn't want to be disturbed, probably. If she wanted something she certainly didn't need to go through the bother of showing up in person, she could just put the thoughts into his head. So why bother her? She was very busy. And as long as she didn't have some project in mind he shouldn't disturb her.

(her mane had started glowing and flowing all princess-y at some point. she still kept it pinned up in an extremely severe bun.)

So Luminark was chattering along the tour, carefully noting every turn he took with a little chalk mark on the floor, browsing the shelves for something. His situation is, essentially, that he figures he's threatened by the large number of armed friendship patrols and wasteland warriors and whatever who might pose harm to his person, so he'd like some way to make sure he can bring them all down.

Milliway followed, largely in silence. She eyed the stacks and shelves and vast stockpile of the potentially valuable to the outright unsettling and was desperately trying to work out the system at work here as they went, but the more she tried the more her brain hurt. Why were those pickled brains with the weird wood and not with those other brain jars over by the... are those eels? And why the different sizes all together?!

Good grief what's that smell?

"Mhm," she agreed, to some more babble coming from Luminark. He seemed to have appointed himself tour guide through this neverending hall of atrociously organised horrors.

Seriously?! Six rows of body specimens like half a mile ago and here, this, this is where he keeps anatomy books!? Look at the state of- wait, ants?

She paused briefly by said ants, eyed them pensively, a red mechanical eye taking quick readings only to conform the little creeps were in fact dead. Dead ants. Working. As an exercise. She swished her tail to disguise a shudder.

Leave. Seriously, leave now. To find anything here clearly demands an outright broken mind or an offensive amount of luck.

"Dead ancestors as slave labour. Yeah. Great," she concluded softly, failing to summon any sincerity to her voice.

I can't believe I hugged this creep.

"So... you really do keep, everything..." Milliway said incredulously and then suddenly stopped, and held up her metal-clad hoof from almost stepping on a freshly made chalk mark. She just stared at him in stunned silence, eyes wide, before slowly turning to see the little strategic marks disappear behind some stacks in the distance behind them.

HE DOESN'T KNOW THE F*CKING WAY OUT OF HERE?!

[Balmas]

So, as you're walking off. Protection Racket comes up to report that they've got the divisional assistants all in custody ... well, most of them at least. One of them, Carat, is off in the deep tunnels and the Friendship Patrol hasn't gotten a hold of her yet.

Oh, did I not mention the deep tunnels before? Well, when you're all living underground and looking to perform SCIENCE, there's really only one direction to build. Downwards. Carat is part of the Geology and Gemology department (GG for short), and spends almost all her time down there, hunting pockets of minerals to fuel her experiments.

Do you go down looking for her? Or do you head to interrogate the remaining assistant-heads? Or is there some other destination you have in mind?


Yes, let's go for Carat. The assistant heads can stew in their guilt. In addition, I tell Protection Racket to make sure that they're split up; it will make it impossible for them to confer among themselves and get their lying stories straight.

And of course we're going downwards. Downwards and outwards. I'm standing on the precipice of the deep tunnels; digging equipment is littered around every place you care to look. I'm ducking backhoes, and examining the drill bits for Big Bertha. My question is, where would Carat be hiding?

[roll0] Read a sitch. What's my best way to find Carat?

[BlasTech]

So Luminark was chattering along the tour, carefully noting every turn he took with a little chalk mark on the floor, browsing the shelves for something. His situation is, essentially, that he figures he's threatened by the large number of armed friendship patrols and wasteland warriors and whatever who might pose harm to his person, so he'd like some way to make sure he can bring them all down.

[Going into my hoard and rolling a 5. Yep, that'd be right - and why I was big on the change to the Hold the MC gets.

You gotta give me something I'd genuinely find useful in that situation, but hunger immediately goes to +4.]

I think I need a bit more info as to what you're after here, Luminark. To me, it sounds like you wants to be able to hurt your enemies, no matter who they are. But your last statement could be taken in a number of ways.

What does success in this goal look like?


Oh, this does mean that I'd like to make a correction to what I told the Princess. The Biology department also has some amount of control over who gets into my particular hangar. I lock up all my stuff myself, but those are just padlocks.

Now, as for why I'm going to the garage, I'm just looking to drop off this hover projector, and figure out what happened. Did somepony tear this off my bike, or steal a spare? Did they take anything else? If the situation doesn't require my immediate attention, then I should probably go get patched up before dealing with this.

Well, there's a bunch of ponies in hazmat suits walking around outside the hangar. They seem to be tossing a large amount of junk out of the front doors, including a large number of your spare parts.

I'm guessing that requires your attention?

Whatever the cause, Toxic Goop (The pony, not the substance), is directing the crew who seem to have unceremoniously dumped your livelihood out into the open air.


"So... you really do keep, everything..." Milliway said incredulously and then suddenly stopped, and held up her metal-clad hoof from almost stepping on a freshly made chalk mark. She just stared at him in stunned silence, eyes wide, before slowly turning to see the little strategic marks disappear behind some stacks in the distance behind them.

HE DOESN'T KNOW THE F*CKING WAY OUT OF HERE?!

Well, somepony once said that a good library, due to the accumulation of knowledge, power, energy and mass, was nothing more than a genteel black hole that could read.

They'd never met a library like this.

Knowledge and power had long since taken a back seat to magic and SCIENCE. It was not so much genteel, as unhinged. The books seemed to watch the ponies as they walked along, and Milliway almost had the feeling that the shelves were sliding around behind her. Chittering shadows arced along the aisles, and the air alternated between a musty staleness and the fresh fanning breeze of opening pages.

Behind them, she saw a book fall to the ground. Disturbed by their passage?

Whatever the cause, it landed right on top of one of Luminark's chalk drawings.


Yes, let's go for Carat. The assistant heads can stew in their guilt. In addition, I tell Protection Racket to make sure that they're split up; it will make it impossible for them to confer among themselves and get their lying stories straight.

And of course we're going downwards. Downwards and outwards. I'm standing on the precipice of the deep tunnels; digging equipment is littered around every place you care to look. I'm ducking backhoes, and examining the drill bits for Big Bertha. My question is, where would Carat be hiding?

[roll0] Read a sitch. What's my best way to find Carat?

Finding Carat seems straightforward. She's got a dig crew set up around the entrance to one of the tunnels, and there are power cables and mining lights strung off into the darkness. The two ponies she's got on the door look up from their work as they see you approach and nod respectfully. If anything, they don't seem shocked to see you here, but they do seem to be bustling about their activity with more professionalism now that their administrator is on the scene.

Now, I don't think there's an option under Read a Sitch for "what's the best way to do X", so I'll translate that to "what should I be on the lookout for?", as it seems to be the most relevant to the current situation.

That bit is straightforward: You're heading into a dark underground tunnel. Did you bring anypony with you? In either case, you should be on the lookout for the usual spattering of mine-related hazards (cave ins, flooding, etc.) as well as the potential for ambush. These tunnels aren't part of the bunker complex, and Carat likely has the upper hoof when it comes to knowing where they all lead.

[Thanqol]

I think I need a bit more info as to what you're after here, Luminark. To me, it sounds like you wants to be able to hurt your enemies, no matter who they are. But your last statement could be taken in a number of ways.

What does success in this goal look like?

Oh, Luminark isn't picky. He is happy to be surprised with whatever awful idea your mind conjures, and whatever the library provides. Barf forth some apocalyptica.

[BlasTech]

Oh, Luminark isn't picky. He is happy to be surprised with whatever awful idea your mind conjures, and whatever the library provides. Barf forth some apocalyptica.

Now, bear with me for a moment, because the tale is somewhat convoluted.

The bunker sends out trading parties from time to time, to both survey the land around the mountain and to purchase the supplies needed to keep the place running. They also tend to use the opportunity to pick up any news or interesting geejaws that the wasteland is willing to provide at a reasonable price.

Well, a couple of years back, one of the trading party returned with a couple of items they'd purchased off a trader who said he'd been scavenging in the Canterlot ruins. Now, most ponies say that to hawk their junk off on the next unsuspecting idiot, but for some reason the lead trader decided to believe him. He came back with a book, a vial of green water, and a data tape. All three were sent immediately to the labs for testing.

All three were useless junk.

It took a fortnight of testing, but in the end the results were clear. While the tape played spooky noises when inserted into a terminal, it turned out it had just been mag-scrambled. The book was an old pre-war treatise on lockpicking written in Griffonian, and the water was just five hundred year old food dye from a McHayburgers. The Administrator issued a censure against the salvage team leader for "wilfully wasting the time of the research teams." and ordered him sent to friendship training.

The guards found him dead in his room.

The weird thing was, though, he'd been dead for two weeks.

He was also wearing a vest of bones.

Said vest was tested as well. The results ... inconclusive. There seemed to be some spells woven into it, at least such that whomever wore it found that weapons turned away and blows were softer (2-armour). Also, while most of the bones were bleached white, a dozen of them were pitch black. Two of them were removed for use in tests (one seemed to have been removed at some time in the past), whereby it was found that they burned indefinitely, but without heat, when exposed to fire. And that when crushed or broken, the resultant powder induced absolute terror in whomever inhaled it. Nopony knows what might happen if you use one of the bones as a weapon, but given the other results it's probably nothing good.

Testing was suspended after the results were published, and the vest requisitioned by the Archmage's office.

The vest is sitting on the shelf next to you. When you take it down, there's a shimmer in the shelves. You'd best use it well, because you get the feeling that your boss knows it's gone, and will come looking for it at some point. Maybe. When she finishes the book she's reading.

[Thanqol]

It was time for an evil undead magical pony transformation sequence! Equal parts this (https://youtu.be/A6QqHzrgtiU) and this (https://youtu.be/2Egf_CyycfI).

The spine settled all along Luminark's back, running up his neck and vanishing under his headdress. The ribs lanced down around his barrel one by one. Spikes of bone emerged from his tail and long jagged talons settled on the base of his hooves. And his eyes turned into bat slits too why not.

Then came two minutes forty seconds of posing and preening.

Only then did Luminark quietly acknowledge that he had disrupted the Archmage's important schedule. His job was to make her life more convenient and he had just done the opposite.

So he glanced one more time in the mirror, took on the slightly spooked aspect of a pony on a mission, and started to walk back the way he had come.

[Balmas]

Finding Carat seems straightforward. She's got a dig crew set up around the entrance to one of the tunnels, and there are power cables and mining lights strung off into the darkness. The two ponies she's got on the door look up from their work as they see you approach and nod respectfully. If anything, they don't seem shocked to see you here, but they do seem to be bustling about their activity with more professionalism now that their administrator is on the scene.

Now, I don't think there's an option under Read a Sitch for "what's the best way to do X", so I'll translate that to "what should I be on the lookout for?", as it seems to be the most relevant to the current situation.

That bit is straightforward: You're heading into a dark underground tunnel. Did you bring anypony with you? In either case, you should be on the lookout for the usual spattering of mine-related hazards (cave ins, flooding, etc.) as well as the potential for ambush. These tunnels aren't part of the bunker complex, and Carat likely has the upper hoof when it comes to knowing where they all lead.

Well, I'm heading into what may or may not be an ambush, in an area where it'll probably be an hour or so before anyone makes their way down here. I've only brought Wander squadron, but hopefully Friend Pony's upgrades will serve as a bit of an early warning system if anyone. I don't anticipate any problems, but I'm keeping my shield spell at the tip of my horn, just in case.

It's good to see my people engaged in industry. I smile at my little ponies as I stride towards them. "It's wonderful to see you, Amethyst. How is Quartz? I don't plan to take too much of your time; I need to speak to Carat."

[Elanorin]

Well, somepony once said that a good library, due to the accumulation of knowledge, power, energy and mass, was nothing more than a genteel black hole that could read.

They'd never met a library like this.

Knowledge and power had long since taken a back seat to magic and SCIENCE. It was not so much genteel, as unhinged. The books seemed to watch the ponies as they walked along, and Milliway almost had the feeling that the shelves were sliding around behind her. Chittering shadows arced along the aisles, and the air alternated between a musty staleness and the fresh fanning breeze of opening pages.

Behind them, she saw a book fall to the ground. Disturbed by their passage?

Whatever the cause, it landed right on top of one of Luminark's chalk drawings.


Well that was unsettling.

As much as she knew it was impossible for a bunch of stuffy books and bottles of luminescent goop to be collectively sentient-

Pfft!

...it, uh, sure gave a pretty good impression of it. But it was just smoke and mirrors and the product of her ghost story loving subconscious.

It's just a library.

Milliway sniffed to herself to dismiss any creepy feelings down her spine, turned, only to see Luminark dress himself in one.


It was time for an evil undead magical pony transformation sequence! Equal parts this (https://youtu.be/A6QqHzrgtiU) and this (https://youtu.be/2Egf_CyycfI).

The spine settled all along Luminark's back, running up his neck and vanishing under his headdress. The ribs lanced down around his barrel one by one. Spikes of bone emerged from his tail and long jagged talons settled on the base of his hooves. And his eyes turned into bat slits too why not.

Then came two minutes forty seconds of posing and preening.

Only then did Luminark quietly acknowledge that he had disrupted the Archmage's important schedule. His job was to make her life more convenient and he had just done the opposite.

So he glanced one more time in the mirror, took on the slightly spooked aspect of a pony on a mission, and started to walk back the way he had come.

Milliway stood square on the floor, watching the entire length of the display. At first she found the sight utterly unsettling (what the hay had he just gone and done to himself exactly?!) but the longer the preening went on the more her expression went from worried shock to unimpressed boredom.

"Done?" she grumbled as he finally made a move. "Look, while we're here, why don't you go ahead and give me back what's mine?"

[TheAmishPirate]

Well, there's a bunch of ponies in hazmat suits walking around outside the hangar. They seem to be tossing a large amount of junk out of the front doors, including a large number of your spare parts.

I'm guessing that requires your attention?

Whatever the cause, Toxic Goop (The pony, not the substance), is directing the crew who seem to have unceremoniously dumped your livelihood out into the open air.

Your guess would be correct!

"Woah-ho!" The Scrapscallion called out, approaching Toxic Goop with the burly Kneecapper trailing close behind. "Hey now friend, why don't you tell me exactly why you're chucking all my stuff out the hangar, and how quickly you can put it all back, capiche?"

[Thanqol]

Milliway stood square on the floor, watching the entire length of the display. At first she found the sight utterly unsettling (what the hay had he just gone and done to himself exactly?!) but the longer the preening went on the more her expression went from worried shock to unimpressed boredom.

"Done?" she grumbled as he finally made a move. "Look, while we're here, why don't you go ahead and give me back what's mine?"

"What?" said Luminark, distracted, having forgotten there was somepony with him. "What, exactly, did I take?"

[BlasTech]

Well, I'm heading into what may or may not be an ambush, in an area where it'll probably be an hour or so before anyone makes their way down here. I've only brought Wander squadron, but hopefully Friend Pony's upgrades will serve as a bit of an early warning system if anyone. I don't anticipate any problems, but I'm keeping my shield spell at the tip of my horn, just in case.

It's good to see my people engaged in industry. I smile at my little ponies as I stride towards them. "It's wonderful to see you, Amethyst. How is Quartz? I don't plan to take too much of your time; I need to speak to Carat."

The two ponies nod happily, indicating the direction that Carat had taken.

[Given you're heading into the tunnels, and you don't know whether you are the cat or the mouse, sounds like a need to roll +cool!]


Your guess would be correct!

"Woah-ho!" The Scrapscallion called out, approaching Toxic Goop with the burly Kneecapper trailing close behind. "Hey now friend, why don't you tell me exactly why you're chucking all my stuff out the hangar, and how quickly you can put it all back, capiche?"

Goop glanced back at the Scrapscallion and approached him. He made shoo-ing gestures until they were at a minimum safe distance before popping the hood on his hazmat suit. It revealed a dark green coated earth pony, with a matted brown mane.

"Hey Scraps." said Goop. "Sorry bout this, looks like there was an experiment breach this morning. Came in to the instruction to scan and toss anything with foreign contaminants until we can lock down the cause. Will probably be about four, five days, to get everything scanned thoroughly."

In the meantime, every moment the pile of valuable junk was outside was another moment that somepony might notice and steal a piece. (not counting the theft of the grav-projector)

[Elanorin]

"What?" said Luminark, distracted, having forgotten there was somepony with him. "What, exactly, did I take?"

Milliway glared an indignant glare after Luminark.

As if the jerk doesn't know. Just look at the primadonna trying to feign ignorance.

"My. Eye," Milliway said between clenched teeth.

He's not scared enough. I should break something.

[TheAmishPirate]

Goop glanced back at the Scrapscallion and approached him. He made shoo-ing gestures until they were at a minimum safe distance before popping the hood on his hazmat suit. It revealed a dark green coated earth pony, with a matted brown mane.

"Hey Scraps." said Goop. "Sorry bout this, looks like there was an experiment breach this morning. Came in to the instruction to scan and toss anything with foreign contaminants until we can lock down the cause. Will probably be about four, five days, to get everything scanned thoroughly."

In the meantime, every moment the pile of valuable junk was outside was another moment that somepony might notice and steal a piece. (not counting the theft of the grav-projector)

Now, it's important to understand that the Scrapscallion was no scientist. Never had that vital spark, that hunger for knowledge necessary for the job. Nor did he have the patience for studies, experiments, paperwork, presentations, proper procedure, department politics, or any of the other trapping mandated for the job. He had his wits, he had his bike, and he had a blithe disregard for his own personal safety. Other ponies might call his lifestyle absolutely moronic, but he found he could make a pretty decent living doing dumb things.

And in his professional opinion, this had to have been the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

"Let me go out on a limb here; you found a ton of contaminated crap around the lab equipment, then a whole lot of nothing, then more contamination on my bike." He looked to Goop flatly. "That sound about right?"

[Thanqol]

Milliway glared an indignant glare after Luminark.

As if the jerk doesn't know. Just look at the primadonna trying to feign ignorance.

"My. Eye," Milliway said between clenched teeth.

He's not scared enough. I should break something.

"Oh, that?" said Luminark. "Why in Starswirl's name are you worried about that? It's not like you were using it or anything. In fact," he adds a bit primly, "it is actually a little weird that you would keep it. But if you're going to go through all this trouble..."

He gives a high pitched whistle stands patiently. After a moment a large, hideous undead Frankenstein's monster of pony, dog and giant radscorpion parts bounds enthusiastically through the stacks and gives Luminark a big lick on the face. It then sees Milliway and, with the blind enthusiasm of a doggy seeing a New Person, it rushes over to sniff and slobber all over her.

It has her eye!

[Balmas]

[roll0]

[Whitespace here]

Looks like I'm the mouse, I guess?

[Elanorin]

"Oh, that?" said Luminark. "Why in Starswirl's name are you worried about that? It's not like you were using it or anything. In fact," he adds a bit primly, "it is actually a little weird that you would keep it. But if you're going to go through all this trouble..."

He gives a high pitched whistle stands patiently.

"Because it's mine and it's mi-" she started, before her voice cut off.


a large, hideous undead Frankenstein's monster of pony, dog and giant radscorpion parts bounds enthusiastically through the stacks and gives Luminark a big lick on the face. It then sees Milliway and, with the blind enthusiasm of a doggy seeing a New Person, it rushes over to sniff and slobber all over her.

It has her eye!

Milliway scrambled to get away from- from- from the thing! She backed away, got pounced, tried to wriggle/scrape free only to rear straight in to one of the massive bookshelves. Trapped. Slobber.

Aaaaahhhh! Disgusting!

Milliway let out a shriek trying to shove the beast away while trying not to look it in the eyes, seeing it look back at you with your own eye was creepifying in the extreme.

Once the monster was sufficiently backed off to give her an ounce of breathing room she took a second to gather her breath and glare murder at Luminark, looking a bit like a bull ready to charge.

"You stole my eye, and you put it in that?!" she cried, with a furious shrill voice.

I need to break something. I need to break a lot of somethings. This is war!

Milliway crouched down and gave a violent, proper earth pony, buck against the bookshelf behind her, hoping to send it and all its content crashing.

[BlasTech]

Now, it's important to understand that the Scrapscallion was no scientist. Never had that vital spark, that hunger for knowledge necessary for the job. Nor did he have the patience for studies, experiments, paperwork, presentations, proper procedure, department politics, or any of the other trapping mandated for the job. He had his wits, he had his bike, and he had a blithe disregard for his own personal safety. Other ponies might call his lifestyle absolutely moronic, but he found he could make a pretty decent living doing dumb things.

And in his professional opinion, this had to have been the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

"Let me go out on a limb here; you found a ton of contaminated crap around the lab equipment, then a whole lot of nothing, then more contamination on my bike." He looked to Goop flatly. "That sound about right?"

"Hey, I don't make the rules, I just live by 'em" replies Goop, shrugging. "Rules are, isolate anything that's potentially hazardous, and sift through it later."

"We knew most of your stuff would come up as positive, if not all" he added, after looking the Scrapscallion over "but there's a bunch of our equipment that's had to be tossed as well."


[roll0]

[Whitespace here]

Looks like I'm the mouse, I guess?

Squeak Squeak.

The squad sticks close by you as you follow the trail of mining lights deeper under the mountain. Dirt and rock gets pretty boring after a while, and the trip is pretty uneventful ... right up until a rather solid blast door suddenly slams shut in front of you, blocking the tunnel. Followed by another one right behind.

A grainy monitor, built into the door, flickers into life. A grinning Carat displayed in tones of green.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOU'VE FALLEN RIGHT INTO MY TRAP!"

As far as maniacal laughter goes, the earth pony was definitely getting full marks. Although one felt compelled to dock a few points for unoriginality.

[BlasTech]

I need to break something. I need to break a lot of somethings. This is war!

Milliway crouched down and gave a violent, proper earth pony, buck against the bookshelf behind her, hoping to send it and all its content crashing.

The nearest shelf teetered for a moment, in the way that all tall, thin, and above all else - heavy - items do before they fall. It went down, taking the next nearest shelf with it and the next, and the next, and the next. Fortunately, it only lasted about twenty seconds as the library was both too big and too well spaced out for a complete domino effect to take place.

Unfortunately, it was a library full of mad science and magic. And it did not appreciate being hit like that.

A few seconds after the cacophony of noise died away, a terrible chittering noise arose from deeper within the stacks. It brought to mind the idea of swarms and bugs, the kind that devour a pony and leave the skeleton still running. Dewy Decibugs most likely. They were known for breaking a pony up to the third decimal point in under a minute.

[Thanqol]

"You're not the sharpest knife in the crayon box, are you?" said Fluffy to Milliway in an incongruously ordinary and cheerful girl-pony voice.

"Augh! Why would you do that!?" cried Luminark, not entirely appreciating the irony. "Why would anypony do that? That's insane!"

He wasn't worried for the books. The books knew their own. He was worried for himself. And he expressed his worry with the sound of galloping hoofsteps.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Hey, I don't make the rules, I just live by 'em" replies Goop, shrugging. "Rules are, isolate anything that's potentially hazardous, and sift through it later."

"We knew most of your stuff would come up as positive, if not all" he added, after looking the Scrapscallion over "but there's a bunch of our equipment that's had to be tossed as well."

Is Goop part of the Environmental Science Division? I thought he was just a part of the cleanup crew. Doesn't change things one way or the other, just making sure I understand his stake in all this.

In any case, the Scrapscallion wasn't having any of this. He had wayyyyyyyy better things to do than try to sneak his stuff out of containment. "Well here's some new rules for ya; Her Highness wants an expedition out to find why the sandstorms got broke. Meaning I need to be ready to haul flank at a moment's notice. If I gotta ride on a contaminated bike?" He smiled to himself. "Yeah, I think I could manage riding a contaminated bike, that sounds pretty rad. Now you, buddy?" He threw a leg over Goop's exposed neck. "If you want to go tell the Princess that you're terribly sorry, but she's gonna have to wait to fix the storms, then you be my guest. I'm sure she won't mind leaving her little ponies exposed for a whole week."

"Or. We can get a rain check on that bike wash, get all my crap back under lock and key, and I ride out as scheduled. Your call, Goops."

[Rolling to Manipulate Goops: [roll0]]

[Balmas]

Squeak Squeak.

The squad sticks close by you as you follow the trail of mining lights deeper under the mountain. Dirt and rock gets pretty boring after a while, and the trip is pretty uneventful ... right up until a rather solid blast door suddenly slams shut in front of you, blocking the tunnel. Followed by another one right behind.

A grainy monitor, built into the door, flickers into life. A grinning Carat displayed in tones of green.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOU'VE FALLEN RIGHT INTO MY TRAP!"

As far as maniacal laughter goes, the earth pony was definitely getting full marks. Although one felt compelled to dock a few points for unoriginality.

"ENOUGH!" Starlight accented her thunderous exclamation with a burst of lightning. "You have committed the single most unforgivable sin against anypony: you've interfered with my date tonight! But if you surrender now, I think I can commute the death sentence to something more survivable."

Even as she did so, she was scanning the door for weak points.

[roll0] What's my best way past these doors?

[Elanorin]

The nearest shelf teetered for a moment, in the way that all tall, thin, and above all else - heavy - items do before they fall. It went down, taking the next nearest shelf with it and the next, and the next, and the next. Fortunately, it only lasted about twenty seconds as the library was both too big and too well spaced out for a complete domino effect to take place.

Unfortunately, it was a library full of mad science and magic. And it did not appreciate being hit like that.

A few seconds after the cacophony of noise died away, a terrible chittering noise arose from deeper within the stacks. It brought to mind the idea of swarms and bugs, the kind that devour a pony and leave the skeleton still running. Dewy Decibugs most likely. They were known for breaking a pony up to the third decimal point in under a minute.

Oh the sat-is-faction of seeing and hearing the cascading stacks of precious magic and lore crash to the ground by her hooves. He had crossed her and in that moment she hadn't frozen to the spot unable to utter anything even vaguely resembling a clever retort, no, she had smacked him right back. This was a day she'd remember. Her face was the very picture of righteous wicked smugness as the mundane disruption of the uncanny spread. Utterly sublime shivers trickled down her spine from the very moment she felt her hooves pushing the huge and heavy shelf beyond its balancing point to its inevitable graceless fall. The trembles burst in to outright blooming pleasure when it knocked the next shelf over and triggering the sequence. It was like a dream come true. It was only just that she managed to stand still, keep her cool among the rising dust and keep the arrogant smug look on her face rather than burst out in to a girly giggles of delight and do a little victory dance. Perhaps rub his face in it. Oh how she wanted to rub that face. In it.

And then it stopped. Oh she had hit the jackpot and won top prize, but the win didn't last long, and just as she was about to deliver her snappy line to really seal this moment as the most epic slam-dunk ever, the chittering bug-ey sound reached her ears.

Milliway's ears twitched in alarm and the smug was suddenly long gone from her face.


"You're not the sharpest knife in the crayon box, are you?" said Fluffy to Milliway in an incongruously ordinary and cheerful girl-pony voice.

Oh by the power of- it talks?! Could that thing be any more Wrong?!

There was just enough not-fear left in her to shoot the disgusting monster a look of hateful incredulity.


"Augh! Why would you do that!?" cried Luminark, not entirely appreciating the irony. "Why would anypony do that? That's insane!"

He wasn't worried for the books. The books knew their own. He was worried for himself. And he expressed his worry with the sound of galloping hoofsteps.

"I'm insane? I'm insane?! Hey! Wa- You g-" Milliway stopped herself from shouting at him to stop and instead took off after him at top speed to catch up and hopefully get away from whatever was making that sound.

Note to self; next time disable security before kicking shelves.

She ran as fast as she could after Luminark, and really, how hard could it be to catch up with a feeble unicorn, never mind one dressed up in enough 'fashion' to sink a ship? As much as she hated to admit it he was still, despite appearances, probably her best guide out of here.

I'll show him insane.

[BlasTech]

Is Goop part of the Environmental Science Division? I thought he was just a part of the cleanup crew. Doesn't change things one way or the other, just making sure I understand his stake in all this.

"Or. We can get a rain check on that bike wash, get all my crap back under lock and key, and I ride out as scheduled. Your call, Goops."

[Rolling to Manipulate Goops: [roll0]]

Yeah, Goops is part of the ESD and answers up to ... well, it used to be Tree. Right now, it'd be the deputy administrator that's currently under lock and key awaiting interrogation. What was his name again? Do you know him well? What's he like as a pony?

In the meantime, Goop is just looking really embarrassed. "Sorry Scraps. I'd really like to help you. But I've got my orders here; if any of this stuff is found back inside the place it'll be my tail down for Friendship retraining."

"If the Administrator wants a run done, then sure. Go ahead and grab whatever you want, but you gotta get it out of the lab. The orders were pretty specific with regards to your pile of junk. Again, I'm really sorry, if I had any wriggle room on it you know I would, it's just not my call."

It's clear that Goops is reluctant here, and with good reason. You could find yourself in a mess of trouble if you went about overriding specific orders with general ones. "Undermining authority" they call it. Despite all this, you're a pretty persuasive guy. You can probably convince him, if you keep at it, to shelter your stuff somewhere. But if you do, there's a good chance Goop will be up for the high jump.

What do you do?


"ENOUGH!" Starlight accented her thunderous exclamation with a burst of lightning. "You have committed the single most unforgivable sin against anypony: you've interfered with my date tonight! But if you surrender now, I think I can commute the death sentence to something more survivable."

Even as she did so, she was scanning the door for weak points.

[roll0] What's my best way past these doors?

"BWAHAHAHaahwhat?"

Carat trailed off, before looking at the screen and adjusting her glasses.

"Administrator? What are you doing in there? Oh no, this is not useful at all. Let me get the door for you."

She pressed a button offscreen and the blast door began to slowly, and noisily, retract. It got about halfway down to the ground before there was a shriek of metal and the whole thing shuddered to a stop.

"Oh blast." grumbled Carat who shuffled out of view. "Let me check my notes."

Normally these blast doors are pretty solid, and the "best way past one" is to nicely ask the pony who has the key. Otherwise, it takes a lot of firepower to burn through it (or a blind teleport to the other side, assuming you can focus on the location correctly) Fortunately, the door in front is already partially disengaged, with the main clamps now unlocked. A few blasts of magic in key points could break it, and send the whole thing back into the ground. Probably won't work again for a while, but who needs that door anyway?


"I'm insane? I'm insane?! Hey! Wa- You g-" Milliway stopped herself from shouting at him to stop and instead took off after him at top speed to catch up and hopefully get away from whatever was making that sound.

Note to self; next time disable security before kicking shelves.

She ran as fast as she could after Luminark, and really, how hard could it be to catch up with a feeble unicorn, never mind one dressed up in enough 'fashion' to sink a ship? As much as she hated to admit it he was still, despite appearances, probably her best guide out of here.

I'll show him insane.

Books are streaming off the shelves as the two of you run back through the library. Whatever chalk markings that were on the ground are getting buried under a pile of paper. The stacks also look different. Taller. Darker. As if the library has shifted around behind you while you were walking.

This sounds kinda charged, does anypony want to read a sitch?

[Elanorin]

Books are streaming off the shelves as the two of you run back through the library. Whatever chalk markings that were on the ground are getting buried under a pile of paper. The stacks also look different. Taller. Darker. As if the library has shifted around behind you while you were walking.

This sounds kinda charged, does anypony want to read a sitch?

Yes! While Milliway is following Luminark now, it's not as if she ever trusted him to get her out in one piece. Especially not now.

[Rolls Read A Sitch 6+5+0=11; Where's my best escape route? Which enemy is the biggest threat? What should I be on the lookout for?]

[Thanqol]

Books are streaming off the shelves as the two of you run back through the library. Whatever chalk markings that were on the ground are getting buried under a pile of paper. The stacks also look different. Taller. Darker. As if the library has shifted around behind you while you were walking.

This sounds kinda charged, does anypony want to read a sitch?

2d6-1 6

Luminark knew his way around the library, theoretically. But he was too busy thinking about what the Archmage was going to think to really pay attention to what was going on around him.

[TheAmishPirate]

Yeah, Goops is part of the ESD and answers up to ... well, it used to be Tree. Right now, it'd be the deputy administrator that's currently under lock and key awaiting interrogation. What was his name again? Do you know him well? What's he like as a pony?

Shrubs? Don't know him, know him, but I've seen the guy around. Hard to miss a pony with a plant growing on their back. I think he spends more time grooming that thing that he spends grooming himself. Makes you wonder though; does he get the branches pruned when he goes for a haircut?


In the meantime, Goop is just looking really embarrassed. "Sorry Scraps. I'd really like to help you. But I've got my orders here; if any of this stuff is found back inside the place it'll be my tail down for Friendship retraining."

"If the Administrator wants a run done, then sure. Go ahead and grab whatever you want, but you gotta get it out of the lab. The orders were pretty specific with regards to your pile of junk. Again, I'm really sorry, if I had any wriggle room on it you know I would, it's just not my call."

It's clear that Goops is reluctant here, and with good reason. You could find yourself in a mess of trouble if you went about overriding specific orders with general ones. "Undermining authority" they call it. Despite all this, you're a pretty persuasive guy. You can probably convince him, if you keep at it, to shelter your stuff somewhere. But if you do, there's a good chance Goop will be up for the high jump.

What do you do?

"Then I guess you'd better find someplace good to hide this stuff, right?"

"...c'mon, Goops. Don't give me that face. You know the Scrapscallion's always good for it." He checked to make sure Kneecapper wasn't too close, and lowered his voice. "This run, see? I can make it in my sleep. Drive quick enough, and I bet I'll have time for a detour or two." He waggled his eyebrow knowingly. "You're telling me there's nothing the ESD wants from the surface? Nothing you want?"

Now, let me explain a bit about how this works. The Scrapscallion isn't some mail-order catalog you can call up and say, "Hey, can you get me fifteen of those c-bolts, seven rotting plants, and a side of fries?" and I'll say "Sure thing buddy you want me to supersize that for you?" Nah, nah, nah. This is scavenging. I don't control what's out there any more than you control the weather - bad example, but you get what I mean, don'tcha? You want me to bring you something, you gotta work in broad strokes. Rotting plants with such-and-such flowers, generators this size or larger, stuff like that. Unless you're looking for raw materials, don't waste my time with itemized shopping lists.

[Balmas]

"BWAHAHAHaahwhat?"

Carat trailed off, before looking at the screen and adjusting her glasses.

"Administrator? What are you doing in there? Oh no, this is not useful at all. Let me get the door for you."

She pressed a button offscreen and the blast door began to slowly, and noisily, retract. It got about halfway down to the ground before there was a shriek of metal and the whole thing shuddered to a stop.

"Oh blast." grumbled Carat who shuffled out of view. "Let me check my notes."

Normally these blast doors are pretty solid, and the "best way past one" is to nicely ask the pony who has the key. Otherwise, it takes a lot of firepower to burn through it (or a blind teleport to the other side, assuming you can focus on the location correctly) Fortunately, the door in front is already partially disengaged, with the main clamps now unlocked. A few blasts of magic in key points could break it, and send the whole thing back into the ground. Probably won't work again for a while, but who needs that door anyway?

Can I get some background info on this door? Is it load supporting? What all is down here? Why even do I have a blast door in a maintenance tunnel?

[BlasTech]

Yes! While Milliway is following Luminark now, it's not as if she ever trusted him to get her out in one piece. Especially not now.

[Rolls Read A Sitch 6+5+0=11; Where's my best escape route? Which enemy is the biggest threat? What should I be on the lookout for?]

Milliway. As you race through the stacks, you catch sight of a massive chandelier off in the distance. Its design is best described as "Biomancer Gothic", given that it's huge, black iron, and covered in hundreds of eyeballs rather than candles. Looking for your own eye, you couldn't help but notice it on the way in. Whether or not the stacks themselves are moving, your best way out is to keep heading in that direction.

The enemy that's the biggest threat is the library. No brains for guessing that. It wants payback for what you did to it, and it's not going to rest until it gets it, or you get out of here.

What you should be on the lookout for is a trap. The Decibugs aren't the worst thing that's out here. I mean, come on, a whole library of magical evil and you think it's the flesh eating insects that are the worst? Nah. They probably aren't the worst thing out there, and there's almost certainly bigger and badder things in the stacks. The bugs probably are just there to make noise, to herd you in a specific direction.


2d6-1 6

Luminark knew his way around the library, theoretically. But he was too busy thinking about what the Archmage was going to think to really pay attention to what was going on around him.

As Milliway races around a corner, a flurry of books stream off the shelves. By the time they clear, the mare is gone from your sight, leaving you alone in a library that is royally pissed off. Behind you, the swarming noises get louder.

What do you do?



"Then I guess you'd better find someplace good to hide this stuff, right?"

"...c'mon, Goops. Don't give me that face. You know the Scrapscallion's always good for it." He checked to make sure Kneecapper wasn't too close, and lowered his voice. "This run, see? I can make it in my sleep. Drive quick enough, and I bet I'll have time for a detour or two." He waggled his eyebrow knowingly. "You're telling me there's nothing the ESD wants from the surface? Nothing you want?"

Yeah, your services are the shizz. Most ponies in the bunker would love to place a custom order, and Goops is no exception. At your offer, his eyes veritably light up.

"You mean ... you'll take an order from us?" he thought, mind buzzing with the possibilities. "From me?"

He looked about shiftily.

"Do you think you could find me some .... chocolate?"


Can I get some background info on this door? Is it load supporting? What all is down here? Why even do I have a blast door in a maintenance tunnel?

The door itself is not load bearing. You're currently standing in a metal tunnel, about twenty meters long, with a solid steel door at either end. It's the kind of structure that's used to separate off the different sections of a mine in case of flooding or cave in. Think like an industrial-grade airlock.

In daily use, they can be purposed as a clean zone (there are a couple of shower heads and some new uniforms along one of the walls), but normally they're left open for ponies to head through on their way from zone A to B.

[Thanqol]

As Milliway races around a corner, a flurry of books stream off the shelves. By the time they clear, the mare is gone from your sight, leaving you alone in a library that is royally pissed off. Behind you, the swarming noises get louder.

What do you do?

Panicking would not befit a unicorn of Luminark's training, birth and stature. That's why he only does it for a few minutes.

Then in desperation, he flares his horn and runs a line of crackling pink energy down into the gemstone that hangs upon his forehead. It begins to glow and pulse - and opens up, like a portal, into his brain.

The stone is a Possession Shard, one of his mother's proudest accomplishments. When activated it conjures a portal between the Ghost World and the wearer's brain. It then pulls in a long-dead spirit that has skills or abilities that can help the wearer with whatever his current predicament is. Ideally the possession is the productive union of two interested parties, with neither pony having full control - a synthesis of two minds.

It hardly ever goes wrong, or summons a ghost with no useful skills, or a ghost with a severe personality conflict to the host, or allows more than one ghost in at the same time, or summons a ghost too powerful to be easily exorcised, or summons something that isn't a ghost at all. Those things have statistically insignificant chances of occurring. Perfectly, statistically safe.

Open Your Brain: 7

[TheAmishPirate]

Yeah, your services are the shizz. Most ponies in the bunker would love to place a custom order, and Goops is no exception. At your offer, his eyes veritably light up.

"You mean ... you'll take an order from us?" he thought, mind buzzing with the possibilities. "From me?"

He looked about shiftily.

"Do you think you could find me some .... chocolate?"

100 years hadn't done a thing to dull ponykind's sweet tooth. The Scrapscallion understood. He got the munchies too.

"Chocolate? Hrmmmmmmmmmmmm." The Scrapscallion stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It'd take some doing...have to drive through some unkind territory...hrmmmmm..." He let Goops dangle on the hook for just a little while longer, before nodding with conviction. "No, you know what? The Scrapscallion'll get you your sweets. You got yourself a deal."

He knew where to find some chocolate, of course. Bitsburgh would have some for sure; all he had to do was find a back door to sneak in through. There were still some friendly faces in that town he could visit...

"But you gotta make sure this stuff gets locked up someplace safe, alright? Some troublemaker swiped this little beauty and threw her in the generator room." He patted the hover projector fondly. "Bad for both of us if that happened again, right? Keep it quiet, and we're all happy here."

"By the way, you didn't happen to get a look at my bike did you? Was one of the hover projectors missing?" Right, the reason he came down here in the first place.

[Elanorin]

Milliway. As you race through the stacks, you catch sight of a massive chandelier off in the distance. Its design is best described as "Biomancer Gothic", given that it's huge, black iron, and covered in hundreds of eyeballs rather than candles. Looking for your own eye, you couldn't help but notice it on the way in. Whether or not the stacks themselves are moving, your best way out is to keep heading in that direction.

The enemy that's the biggest threat is the library. No brains for guessing that. It wants payback for what you did to it, and it's not going to rest until it gets it, or you get out of here.

What you should be on the lookout for is a trap. The Decibugs aren't the worst thing that's out here. I mean, come on, a whole library of magical evil and you think it's the flesh eating insects that are the worst? Nah. They probably aren't the worst thing out there, and there's almost certainly bigger and badder things in the stacks. The bugs probably are just there to make noise, to herd you in a specific direction.

Creepy eyeball chandelier. Yes. I remember that thing. It's hard not to (there is something seriously wrong with a pony that puts something like that together and hangs it up for Pretty. Then again, the fact that there was something wrong with Luminark was well established at this point. A creepy morbid piece of decor really only confirmed her opinions on him.

Milliway scrambled round the corner and ran at breakneck speed straight towards that very chandelier, and, hopefully, the exit. She couldn't hear Luminark's precious hoofsteps anymore. He probably found a mirror to preen at.

[BlasTech]

"You got yourself a deal."

"But you gotta make sure this stuff gets locked up someplace safe, alright? Some troublemaker swiped this little beauty and threw her in the generator room." He patted the hover projector fondly. "Bad for both of us if that happened again, right? Keep it quiet, and we're all happy here."

"By the way, you didn't happen to get a look at my bike did you? Was one of the hover projectors missing?" Right, the reason he came down here in the first place.

"Yess!" replied Goop, who couldn't resist punching the air in excitement. "Right! Secure. Okay ... I'll set aside some space in my equipment shed then. It's not the Celestial Vaults, but it's got locks and alarms and is probably better than leaving it out in the dirt. I'll just clear out some of the other crud there to make enough room."

"Your bike's still locked up in the main lab, we haven't had a chance to move it yet. I didn't notice anything wrong with it when I was in there earlier but you can probably check with one of the other colts in the team." Goop replied, shrugging. "You say you found it in the generators? What was it doing down there?"



It hardly ever goes wrong, or summons a ghost with no useful skills, or a ghost with a severe personality conflict to the host, or allows more than one ghost in at the same time, or summons a ghost too powerful to be easily exorcised, or summons something that isn't a ghost at all. Those things have statistically insignificant chances of occurring. Perfectly, statistically safe.

Open Your Brain: 7

Safe as houses.

Although, as with many houses, they are only as strong as the doors that guard them. Windows, open in the breeze, let in more than just air. While strangers stalk the halls with merry smiles and a friendly wave.

Tell me, Luminark. Before I give you your answer, do you often make use of this ability of yours, to call on the dead? What do they say when you've done this before?


Creepy eyeball chandelier. Yes. I remember that thing. It's hard not to (there is something seriously wrong with a pony that puts something like that together and hangs it up for Pretty. Then again, the fact that there was something wrong with Luminark was well established at this point. A creepy morbid piece of decor really only confirmed her opinions on him.

Milliway scrambled round the corner and ran at breakneck speed straight towards that very chandelier, and, hopefully, the exit. She couldn't hear Luminark's precious hoofsteps anymore. He probably found a mirror to preen at.

The shelves thin out, leaving a massive open space ahead of the exit. This clearing hadn't been here previously, nor had there been such a large pile of books in the middle of it.

The thousand eyes of the chandelier turn to look at you as you arrive at the edge of the clearing.

What do you do?

[Balmas]

The door itself is not load bearing. You're currently standing in a metal tunnel, about twenty meters long, with a solid steel door at either end. It's the kind of structure that's used to separate off the different sections of a mine in case of flooding or cave in. Think like an industrial-grade airlock.

In daily use, they can be purposed as a clean zone (there are a couple of shower heads and some new uniforms along one of the walls), but normally they're left open for ponies to head through on their way from zone A to B.

In that case, I see no harm in directing a few blasts of lightning towards key points and forcing them out of the way.

"Now, Carat," I say, addressing the air. "I'd like to forgive your rather grievous faux pas against your best friend, but I'm curious. Who exactly were you expecting to trap down here? And why?

[Thanqol]

Safe as houses.

Although, as with many houses, they are only as strong as the doors that guard them. Windows, open in the breeze, let in more than just air. While strangers stalk the halls with merry smiles and a friendly wave.

Tell me, Luminark. Before I give you your answer, do you often make use of this ability of yours, to call on the dead? What do they say when you've done this before?

All the time! Luminark actually quite likes meeting new ponies this way. He tries to be a good host when he can. However, he very rarely does it for no reason at all - the Gem calls to ponies with useful skills, and if his current situation is 'boredom' then he tends to get something very good at making his life interesting...

There are ghosts from all walks of life out there but they tend to be curious, well informed and gossipy. Luminark is given to suspect that there is a big cloud of invisible spectators following him around all the time waiting for a chance to hitch a ride. A recurring theme is unsolicited advice, requests, or occasionally creepy stalker behavior.

Luckily given the war was two hundred years ago and everypony on every side died not many of them tend to be big on the vengeance/unfinished business ghostly thing. A better analogy might be, like, dedicated viewers of the reality TV show of his life - perhaps a shade more unhinged.

[Elanorin]

The shelves thin out, leaving a massive open space ahead of the exit. This clearing hadn't been here previously, nor had there been such a large pile of books in the middle of it.

The thousand eyes of the chandelier turn to look at you as you arrive at the edge of the clearing.

What do you do?

Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa. Whoa.

Milliway screeched to a brief halt as she reached the wide open space. Now this felt like a trap.

Can books get pissed?

Not keen to find out the answer, Milliway decided to err on the side of caution and trotted a little more carefully along the fringe of the clearing, taking the long route towards the exit. She winked at the chandelier.

[BlasTech]

In that case, I see no harm in directing a few blasts of lightning towards key points and forcing them out of the way.

"Now, Carat," I say, addressing the air. "I'd like to forgive your rather grievous faux pas against your best friend, but I'm curious. Who exactly were you expecting to trap down here? And why?

"Oh ... nothing too major." replied Carat from off-screen, as the blast door came thundering down in its rails. "Just somepony that's been killing some of my research staff in the most gruesome fashions. I thought I'd rig up a few things so I could tell them to stop it."

The door completed its collapse amidst a cloud of dust.

And the Hellhound that had been stalking your party for the last ten minutes picked this moment to strike. Its claws flashed like silver, and one of the friendship patrol nearest the door was disembowelled before he even had a chance to scream.

With the other door still up, the beast has you cornered - like rats in a box. Its hide is as tough as battle armour and its claws are deadly (3 - harm AP deadly, that is). It's got you right where it wanted you.

What do you do?


All the time! Luminark actually quite likes meeting new ponies this way. He tries to be a good host when he can. However, he very rarely does it for no reason at all - the Gem calls to ponies with useful skills, and if his current situation is 'boredom' then he tends to get something very good at making his life interesting...

There are ghosts from all walks of life out there but they tend to be curious, well informed and gossipy. Luminark is given to suspect that there is a big cloud of invisible spectators following him around all the time waiting for a chance to hitch a ride. A recurring theme is unsolicited advice, requests, or occasionally creepy stalker behavior.

Luckily given the war was two hundred years ago and everypony on every side died not many of them tend to be big on the vengeance/unfinished business ghostly thing. A better analogy might be, like, dedicated viewers of the reality TV show of his life - perhaps a shade more unhinged.

He felt the hoof-tips of the ether coalesce around the gemstone. The weight of millennia watching his every move ... and passing judgement.

He felt a rain of popcorn over his head.

"Quit yer lollygaggin' yer pompus whippersnapper!" yells the ghost, in the exact tone that one would use when watching an annoying daytime TV drama.

"Land's sakes, yer actin's slower than mah winter molasses and more wooden than mah apple trees!"

Well, you've got a connection going with one pony at least. What happens now? When you do this, what is it like? Do they take control of your hooves entirely, or is it more like having an annoying backseat driver - where you at least have the option of jumping off the cart?

In either case, this ghost seems to be bringing some unique skills to the table - mostly involving the production of baked goods, but for some reason also including the ability to high-dive as well as to dance the rhumba.


Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa. Whoa.

Milliway screeched to a brief halt as she reached the wide open space. Now this felt like a trap.

Can books get pissed?

Not keen to find out the answer, Milliway decided to err on the side of caution and trotted a little more carefully along the fringe of the clearing, taking the long route towards the exit. She winked at the chandelier.

The chandelier returned a level, unamused, gaze - if chandeliers were capable of being said to do such things.

Right, well, in the time it takes you to get a third of the way around, the decibugs come into sight right behind you. They glint metallically in the torchlight as they swarm over the last stack and are now close enough that you can see their little mandiables, their fluttering wings, and shining carapaces.

As they get closer, you can see that those mandibles are made of metal, reminiscent of the sort you see in ring-binders (except a lot more painful to get your hand caught in), their wings are paper and their shells are gold-leaf embossed.

After all, for whoever created these bugs, they were going for broke with the theme.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Yess!" replied Goop, who couldn't resist punching the air in excitement. "Right! Secure. Okay ... I'll set aside some space in my equipment shed then. It's not the Celestial Vaults, but it's got locks and alarms and is probably better than leaving it out in the dirt. I'll just clear out some of the other crud there to make enough room."

"Your bike's still locked up in the main lab, we haven't had a chance to move it yet. I didn't notice anything wrong with it when I was in there earlier but you can probably check with one of the other colts in the team." Goop replied, shrugging. "You say you found it in the generators? What was it doing down there?"

"Hell if I know." The Scrapscallion shrugged. "For a minute back there, the Friendship Patrol thought I put it there. Me! Like I'd rip apart my own bike just 'cause I got bored. Of course, Her Highness knew better. I tell ya, Goops, these are some weird and wild days we're living in. Generators go down, lab accidents, hover projector found in the engine room, and not to mention-"

waking up to Trees' dead eyes staring through me

The Scrapscallion paused. Smirked. Flipped his goggles down. "...what? I said I wasn't gonna mention. Now are we gonna check out this bike or what?"

she looked scared

[Thanqol]

He felt the hoof-tips of the ether coalesce around the gemstone. The weight of millennia watching his every move ... and passing judgement.

He felt a rain of popcorn over his head.

"Quit yer lollygaggin' yer pompus whippersnapper!" yells the ghost, in the exact tone that one would use when watching an annoying daytime TV drama.

"Land's sakes, yer actin's slower than mah winter molasses and more wooden than mah apple trees!"

Well, you've got a connection going with one pony at least. What happens now? When you do this, what is it like? Do they take control of your hooves entirely, or is it more like having an annoying backseat driver - where you at least have the option of jumping off the cart?

Luminark would describe the control as 'democratic'. If he wants to go left and the ghost wants to go right then half his hooves go in either direction - so he's stuck until he negotiates a compromise or browbeats the ghost into submission. In this moment he is happy to abdicate responsibility to somepony who doesn't seem to be panicking quite as much as he (entirely reasonably) is.

[Balmas]

"Oh ... nothing too major." replied Carat from off-screen, as the blast door came thundering down in its rails. "Just somepony that's been killing some of my research staff in the most gruesome fashions. I thought I'd rig up a few things so I could tell them to stop it."

The door completed its collapse amidst a cloud of dust.

And the Hellhound that had been stalking your party for the last ten minutes picked this moment to strike. Its claws flashed like silver, and one of the friendship patrol nearest the door was disembowelled before he even had a chance to scream.

With the other door still up, the beast has you cornered - like rats in a box. Its hide is as tough as battle armour and its claws are deadly (3 - harm AP deadly, that is). It's got you right where it wanted you.

What do you do?

Well, I'll be honest. What I want kinda seems outside the rules.

Way I see it, there aren't many good options in straight up combat. I could order my ponies to attack, do an all-out attack. Prblem is, between those claws and the armor plating on a hellhound, I'd take heavy losses, and even then might not kill the damned thing.

So what I want to do, is I want to cheat. I've got a horn. Damn sexy, too, though I say so myself, though that's besides the point. The point is, I'm packing some serious magical mojo. And so what I'm going to do is grab the hound in my telekinesis and hold it in midair. Give it no room to maneuver, nothing to push up against, nothing to shove off of, so that when I give the order to blast away at it, it won't be able to fight back.

Of course, while I'm doing that, I probably wouldn't be able to contribute to the fight very much.

So what am I rolling? Seize by Force? Open your brain?

[Elanorin]

The chandelier returned a level, unamused, gaze - if chandeliers were capable of being said to do such things.

Right, well, in the time it takes you to get a third of the way around, the decibugs come into sight right behind you. They glint metallically in the torchlight as they swarm over the last stack and are now close enough that you can see their little mandiables, their fluttering wings, and shining carapaces.

As they get closer, you can see that those mandibles are made of metal, reminiscent of the sort you see in ring-binders (except a lot more painful to get your hand caught in), their wings are paper and their shells are gold-leaf embossed.

After all, for whoever created these bugs, they were going for broke with the theme.

Enough with caution! RUN!

Milliway's eyes shot wide open at the sight of the approaching bugs and she scrambled to put as much space between herself and them as absolutely possible. Never-bloody-mind that it brought her headed straight for the books at top speed gallop.

Tell me, how high is this pile of books? High enough for a highly motivated pony to be able to jump from it up in to that spectacular chandelier to then punch her way in to the air vents above and seal herself in? Yes?

[BlasTech]

"Hell if I know." The Scrapscallion shrugged. "For a minute back there, the Friendship Patrol thought I put it there. Me! Like I'd rip apart my own bike just 'cause I got bored. Of course, Her Highness knew better. I tell ya, Goops, these are some weird and wild days we're living in. Generators go down, lab accidents, hover projector found in the engine room, and not to mention-"

waking up to Trees' dead eyes staring through me

The Scrapscallion paused. Smirked. Flipped his goggles down. "...what? I said I wasn't gonna mention. Now are we gonna check out this bike or what?"

she looked scared

"Yeah, sure." replied Goop, not entirely convinced.

Anyway, the two of you go into the shed and there's your bike ... truck. Biketruck.

It's just sitting there, waiting for you to use. No apparent damage and everything is in its place.

What's the plan?


Luminark would describe the control as 'democratic'. If he wants to go left and the ghost wants to go right then half his hooves go in either direction - so he's stuck until he negotiates a compromise or browbeats the ghost into submission. In this moment he is happy to abdicate responsibility to somepony who doesn't seem to be panicking quite as much as he (entirely reasonably) is.

Well, in this body democracy, are you gonna call a vote? Or is this just a one-party state pony for now?

In laypony's terms. Are you gonna do anything specific, or is it just a case of riding the flow?


Well, I'll be honest. What I want kinda seems outside the rules.

Way I see it, there aren't many good options in straight up combat. I could order my ponies to attack, do an all-out attack. Prblem is, between those claws and the armor plating on a hellhound, I'd take heavy losses, and even then might not kill the damned thing.

So what I want to do, is I want to cheat. I've got a horn. Damn sexy, too, though I say so myself, though that's besides the point. The point is, I'm packing some serious magical mojo. And so what I'm going to do is grab the hound in my telekinesis and hold it in midair. Give it no room to maneuver, nothing to push up against, nothing to shove off of, so that when I give the order to blast away at it, it won't be able to fight back.

Of course, while I'm doing that, I probably wouldn't be able to contribute to the fight very much.

So what am I rolling? Seize by Force? Open your brain?

Seizing by force. Seizing the diamond dog, that is.

Go ahead and roll hard.


Enough with caution! RUN!

Milliway's eyes shot wide open at the sight of the approaching bugs and she scrambled to put as much space between herself and them as absolutely possible. Never-bloody-mind that it brought her headed straight for the books at top speed gallop.

Tell me, how high is this pile of books? High enough for a highly motivated pony to be able to jump from it up in to that spectacular chandelier to then punch her way in to the air vents above and seal herself in? Yes?

As you approach the pile of books, something massive starts to emerge from it.

Its eyes are a fiery red. Its body made of obsidian scales and its claws look as sharp as knives.

Teeth fill its gaping maw and its throat hints at a soul that's both as black as night and as ancient as the hills.

Books cascade down from the pile as it smashes its way to freedom.

Okay okay, time out. Y'know how you're getting pursued by Decibugs? Well, the mad scientists that made them didn't stop there. The creature before you is much more fearsome and deadly. By design, it's the kind of creature whose entry in the monster manual is basically a picture and the words "avoid at all costs". Dreamed up through the unholy union of a biomancer, a technomancer and somepony with an Equestrian language major and a pretty terrible sense of humour.

The monster is called, of course, a Cliché.

Terrible puns and a horrible name aside, this thing does look pretty dangerous. The book pile is indeed tall enough to get you to the ceiling vents, but you'll have to go right past the creature to try to climb it.

What do you do?

[Balmas]

[roll0]

Quick question. Are we using the 1E or 2E rules for Leadership?

Take Definite Hold, Inflict Terrible Harm, Suffer Little Harm

[TheAmishPirate]

"Yeah, sure." replied Goop, not entirely convinced.

Anyway, the two of you go into the shed and there's your bike ... truck. Biketruck.

It's just sitting there, waiting for you to use. No apparent damage and everything is in its place.

What's the plan?

The Scrapscallion is going to give it a once-over first. He knows this thing like the back of his hoof, and if somepony so much as adjusted the seat he'd notice. He'll pay particular attention to the hover projectors. Sure, this may have been one of the spares, but to tell the truth? This whole sabotage thing stinks. If he were a deranged lunatic hell-bent on giving the Scrapscallion a headache, he would've totally ripped the projector right off the bike, and punted it as far away as he could. And then he would've stomped on the spares for good measure. And maybe spray-painted some disparaging remarks about his choice of manestyle on the side of his biketruck.

Just saying, there's a lot easier and more effective ways to make his life miserable, but their little thief did none of that. So what the heck, man?

[Thanqol]

Well, in this body democracy, are you gonna call a vote? Or is this just a one-party state pony for now?

In laypony's terms. Are you gonna do anything specific, or is it just a case of riding the flow?

Luminark didn't summon a ghost to save his flank and then not let it save his flank, right? He lets it take the reins.

[Elanorin]

As you approach the pile of books, something massive starts to emerge from it.

Its eyes are a fiery red. Its body made of obsidian scales and its claws look as sharp as knives.

Teeth fill its gaping maw and its throat hints at a soul that's both as black as night and as ancient as the hills.

Books cascade down from the pile as it smashes its way to freedom.

Okay okay, time out. Y'know how you're getting pursued by Decibugs? Well, the mad scientists that made them didn't stop there. The creature before you is much more fearsome and deadly. By design, it's the kind of creature whose entry in the monster manual is basically a picture and the words "avoid at all costs". Dreamed up through the unholy union of a biomancer, a technomancer and somepony with an Equestrian language major and a pretty terrible sense of humour.

The monster is called, of course, a Cliché.

Terrible puns and a horrible name aside, this thing does look pretty dangerous. The book pile is indeed tall enough to get you to the ceiling vents, but you'll have to go right past the creature to try to climb it.

What do you do?

Buggy doom behind, and death by Cliché ahead, this had the makings of an epic end and she had always liked the thought of going with a bang.

I'll be damned if I die in a bleeding library!

It was just as well Milliway happened to do her very best thinking when under pressure! An idea sparked in to existence in her mind and the eyes above on the chandelier suddenly became less creepy.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way!" Milliway called out to the monster as she approached, not ready to back down now. She continued at full gallop at the monster, zigging and zagging to dodge any attack as best she could as she dashed to run up the book-pile, jump, and make for the safety of the air vent above.

[Assuming this will need an AUF roll: 4+4+1=9

Tell me, what would it take to convert this amazing eyeball chandelier to become my eyeball chandelier? By that I don't mean simply to steal it, no, that's for fillies, no, I mean to hack in to it and convert it to a surveillance system of the library. This place clearly has Stuff going on. Stuff I'd like to keep eyeballs on.]

[BlasTech]

[roll0]

Quick question. Are we using the 1E or 2E rules for Leadership?

Take Definite Hold, Inflict Terrible Harm, Suffer Little Harm

Well, the diamond dog charges, but your magic is pretty darn strong. Laughing Gas takes a swipe to the barrel, and Jolly Kicks loses a leg, but your soldiers stand firm in the face of the attack, blasting away at it.

Within seconds, it's all over. The beast is bloody, badly injured, but beaten. You've got it pinned in your magic, and it's looking at you with what can only be described as primal hatred.

What do you do?


The Scrapscallion is going to give it a once-over first. He knows this thing like the back of his hoof, and if somepony so much as adjusted the seat he'd notice. He'll pay particular attention to the hover projectors. Sure, this may have been one of the spares, but to tell the truth? This whole sabotage thing stinks. If he were a deranged lunatic hell-bent on giving the Scrapscallion a headache, he would've totally ripped the projector right off the bike, and punted it as far away as he could. And then he would've stomped on the spares for good measure. And maybe spray-painted some disparaging remarks about his choice of manestyle on the side of his biketruck.

Just saying, there's a lot easier and more effective ways to make his life miserable, but their little thief did none of that. So what the heck, man?

It's a good question. I mean, maybe they weren't trying to mess with you. Maybe they were trying to do something with the grav projector? I mean, what's in those things anyway? Do you know?


Luminark didn't summon a ghost to save his flank and then not let it save his flank, right? He lets it take the reins.

"About dad-gum time." comes the voice, as the mare takes control of his legs.

Luminark's hindquarters start to sway. Left, one two. Right one two. Spin.

The Decibugs swarm over the stack.

"Yer gonna need some partners fer this." grumbled the ghost, and Luminark's horn lit up. Books floated off the shelves, joining Luminark in a swarm of his own.

The Decibugs ... stop.

Twirl. Dip. Forwards.

The Decibugs start to move. Dipping, and swinging backwards.

Luminark steps backwards, the bugs swoop forwards. He steps to the side, and they swarm around him, twirling amongst the books as if they'd taken his hoof in theirs.

It's in this moment that Luminark is struck by the remembered knowledge that some bugs can communicate through dance. He is, in effect, speaking to the Decibugs. It's not a perfect form of communication, more a conveying of emotions and intent through the way they move with each other.

The bugs seem to be following his lead for now. What does he want to say?


Buggy doom behind, and death by Cliché ahead, this had the makings of an epic end and she had always liked the thought of going with a bang.

I'll be damned if I die in a bleeding library!

It was just as well Milliway happened to do her very best thinking when under pressure! An idea sparked in to existence in her mind and the eyes above on the chandelier suddenly became less creepy.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way!" Milliway called out to the monster as she approached, not ready to back down now. She continued at full gallop at the monster, zigging and zagging to dodge any attack as best she could as she dashed to run up the book-pile, jump, and make for the safety of the air vent above.

[Assuming this will need an AUF roll: 4+4+1=9

Tell me, what would it take to convert this amazing eyeball chandelier to become my eyeball chandelier? By that I don't mean simply to steal it, no, that's for fillies, no, I mean to hack in to it and convert it to a surveillance system of the library. This place clearly has Stuff going on. Stuff I'd like to keep eyeballs on.]

You're the savvyhead. You can probably rig up some kind of surveillance device without the need to mess with whatever is causing the chandelier to do ... whatever the heck it does. If you're specifically trying to co-opt the chandelier though, I'm gonna have to first ask Luminark if there's anything he knows about his sentient horde and what might need to be involved.

In the meantime, you've got the Cliché to worry about though.

You make it up the side of the book pile. Mostly because the beast takes a moment to roar at you before trying to attack. It takes a swipe at you, dislodging the far side of the pile when it misses. In that moment, you see your route - a jump just there, plant your hooves on its side, kick off to get it off balance, and you'll be able to reach the nearest vent.

The downside to this is it'll get a good chance to land a hit on you. You'll probably survive, but it'll hurt a bit.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

It's a good question. I mean, maybe they weren't trying to mess with you. Maybe they were trying to do something with the grav projector? I mean, what's in those things anyway? Do you know?

...magical go-fast?

I've been working with these things so long, I know how to take them apart, put them back together, and still have them work. But seriously? There's a lot of black box crap in here. Power goes to this pile of wires, something comes out this end, connects to the silver bit, and then gravity decides to go take a nap. (I'm sure they've got technical names for all this stuff, but really, The Scrapscallion gets by on his own terms.) I can replace these parts with nothing but my tail - now that was a fun day - but you better find a labcoat if you want to know what they do.

Either way, I wish Target Prac-dunce had told me more about where he found this thing. From what he said, it sounds like it was just tossed in the generator room somewhere. Sure would be helpful to know a little more.

[This is starting to feel like a Read a Sitch, but I'll wait until I hear the results of his once-over.]

[Thanqol]

"About dad-gum time." comes the voice, as the mare takes control of his legs.

Luminark's hindquarters start to sway. Left, one two. Right one two. Spin.

The Decibugs swarm over the stack.

"Yer gonna need some partners fer this." grumbled the ghost, and Luminark's horn lit up. Books floated off the shelves, joining Luminark in a swarm of his own.

The Decibugs ... stop.

Twirl. Dip. Forwards.

The Decibugs start to move. Dipping, and swinging backwards.

Luminark steps backwards, the bugs swoop forwards. He steps to the side, and they swarm around him, twirling amongst the books as if they'd taken his hoof in theirs.

It's in this moment that Luminark is struck by the remembered knowledge that some bugs can communicate through dance. He is, in effect, speaking to the Decibugs. It's not a perfect form of communication, more a conveying of emotions and intent through the way they move with each other.

The bugs seem to be following his lead for now. What does he want to say?

"She did it."

[Balmas]

Well, the diamond dog charges, but your magic is pretty darn strong. Laughing Gas takes a swipe to the barrel, and Jolly Kicks loses a leg, but your soldiers stand firm in the face of the attack, blasting away at it.

Within seconds, it's all over. The beast is bloody, badly injured, but beaten. You've got it pinned in your magic, and it's looking at you with what can only be described as primal hatred.

What do you do?

"Someone, get Laughing Gas to the infirmary before some infection sets in. Get a tourniquet on that leg and get Jolly to cybernetics before too many nerve endings die." Then, once I finish giving orders, I turn to the hellhound trapped in my magic.

"You know, everything about this situation says that I should kill you," I say frankly. "You've killed my people. You've snuck into my base. You've tried to kill me, and if I let you free, I can't help but think you'll do it again.

"Still, never let it be said that I do not give second chances. I want you to work for me. You will follow my orders, do what I say. And in exchange, I will give you food, a place to live, freedom. You will be upgraded, made more powerful, more durable. And of course, your life expectancy will be much longer; you could live for centuries.

"Given that your current life expectancy measures in minutes, I think it's a pretty generous offer."

[Elanorin]

You're the savvyhead. You can probably rig up some kind of surveillance device without the need to mess with whatever is causing the chandelier to do ... whatever the heck it does. If you're specifically trying to co-opt the chandelier though, I'm gonna have to first ask Luminark if there's anything he knows about his sentient horde and what might need to be involved.

In the meantime, you've got the Cliché to worry about though.

You make it up the side of the book pile. Mostly because the beast takes a moment to roar at you before trying to attack. It takes a swipe at you, dislodging the far side of the pile when it misses. In that moment, you see your route - a jump just there, plant your hooves on its side, kick off to get it off balance, and you'll be able to reach the nearest vent.

The downside to this is it'll get a good chance to land a hit on you. You'll probably survive, but it'll hurt a bit.

What do you do?

Milliway takes the leap, bracing for getting hit, and makes for the vent, mind set to extract every drop of blood from Luminark that this place would cost her.

[BlasTech]

...magical go-fast?

I've been working with these things so long, I know how to take them apart, put them back together, and still have them work. But seriously? There's a lot of black box crap in here. Power goes to this pile of wires, something comes out this end, connects to the silver bit, and then gravity decides to go take a nap. (I'm sure they've got technical names for all this stuff, but really, The Scrapscallion gets by on his own terms.) I can replace these parts with nothing but my tail - now that was a fun day - but you better find a labcoat if you want to know what they do.

Either way, I wish Target Prac-dunce had told me more about where he found this thing. From what he said, it sounds like it was just tossed in the generator room somewhere. Sure would be helpful to know a little more.

[This is starting to feel like a Read a Sitch, but I'll wait until I hear the results of his once-over.]

Would indeed.

Your once over of the bike fails to find anything unusual. But tell me, you feel this is worth a read a sitch? Why? What's making it so that this perfectly normal scene, in a secure garage, feels like a charged situation? What kind of things are triggering Scraps' sixth-senses here, and are there any events that influence this?


"She did it."

The swarm buzzes backwards, indignantly, before advancing with purpose.

"So what?"

It hums angrily. Losing cohesion for a moment as the bugs whirl around Luminark, ruffling books on the shelves.

"Fix. it."


"Someone, get Laughing Gas to the infirmary before some infection sets in. Get a tourniquet on that leg and get Jolly to cybernetics before too many nerve endings die." Then, once I finish giving orders, I turn to the hellhound trapped in my magic.

"You know, everything about this situation says that I should kill you," I say frankly. "You've killed my people. You've snuck into my base. You've tried to kill me, and if I let you free, I can't help but think you'll do it again.

"Still, never let it be said that I do not give second chances. I want you to work for me. You will follow my orders, do what I say. And in exchange, I will give you food, a place to live, freedom. You will be upgraded, made more powerful, more durable. And of course, your life expectancy will be much longer; you could live for centuries.

"Given that your current life expectancy measures in minutes, I think it's a pretty generous offer."

"Awww, but I wanted to get me a trophy" whines one of the other troopers, who has produced a rather wicked looking knife.

If you want to do it, you gotta roll it Glim Glam! This sounds like a threat. If so, go aggro.

If not, roll manipulate and offer him something tangible as leverage.


Milliway takes the leap, bracing for getting hit, and makes for the vent, mind set to extract every drop of blood from Luminark that this place would cost her.

The cliché catches you with a solid backswing as you jump past, and the next thing you know you're in the vents.

You're in the vents so hard, in fact, that there is now a Milliway-shaped dent in the other side of the aluminium duct.

[1 harm-ap]

The library seems to take that as suitable vengeance, and the monster roars once in satisfaction before heading back down into its pile of books. You're now in the vents above the library, and all the things that were trying to kill you seem to have lost interest.

What do you do?

[Elanorin]

The cliché catches you with a solid backswing as you jump past, and the next thing you know you're in the vents.

You're in the vents so hard, in fact, that there is now a Milliway-shaped dent in the other side of the aluminium duct.

[1 harm-ap]

The library seems to take that as suitable vengeance, and the monster roars once in satisfaction before heading back down into its pile of books. You're now in the vents above the library, and all the things that were trying to kill you seem to have lost interest.

What do you do?

aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAA- THUMP!

"...ow." *cough*

This is all his fault, you realise.

"...ow."

Spying on him isn't even close to enough payback.

Milliway winced and began prising herself free from her dent.

But it's a good start.

Once free she checked all limbs were still present and working within established parameters. Her head was ringing from that hit and she had to take a moment to regain a bit of clarity before taking in her situation. Bugs and monster backing off. Good.

Her eyes went to the chandelier, how far away is it now? She checked the direction of the air ducts to see if she could feasibly reach its fastenings to study it further. Could she?

[Rolling Harm: 4+2+1=7]

[Thanqol]

The swarm buzzes backwards, indignantly, before advancing with purpose.

"So what?"

It hums angrily. Losing cohesion for a moment as the bugs whirl around Luminark, ruffling books on the shelves.

"Fix. it."

Hard work! He could do hard work! Well, hard work wasn't ideal - hard work was actually a pain in the flank - but it was preferable to being eaten by angry bugs. Hard work! Luminark rapidly began skittering over to the fallen shelves and grunting as he began to exert his physical and magical strength to righting them. After almost three minutes of hard work he delegated the job to Fluffy.

Luminark needed his brain more than his brawn right now; he was hurriedly taking inventory of any damaged items and thinking about where he might find replacements or supplemental items. Hopefully expanding the library's catalogue would help get him off the Bad List.

[What are some things my Hoard wants that I might be able to go get?]

[Balmas]

[roll0]whitespace

[TheAmishPirate]

Would indeed.

Your once over of the bike fails to find anything unusual. But tell me, you feel this is worth a read a sitch? Why? What's making it so that this perfectly normal scene, in a secure garage, feels like a charged situation? What kind of things are triggering Scraps' sixth-senses here, and are there any events that influence this?

You know what? You're right. The Scrapscallion is a daredevil biker who fearlessly flirts with danger and royalty alike. All this creeping around and thinking carefully just isn't his style. So let's do this thing properly.

Satisfied that his bike his is still in one piece, the Scrapscallion ignored all other safety checks, mounted the Peregrine, and flippped her on. (This particular model of bike is ridden standing up, hugging the chassis while all four hooves work the pedals. It's the Scrapscallion's bike of choice.) The engine thrummed to life; he could feel it pressing into his chest. The hover projectors engaged, and added a steady vrom-vrom-vrom pulsing through his body. Bike and pony lifted off the ground. Not a lick of a breeze ruffled his forelock. The world and everything in it fell away to a distant, dull memory. There was only him, and this beautiful machine beneath. He mushed his cheek against the seat, all the better to feel it rattling in his skull.

Let the labcoats have their careful experiments. The Scrapscallion knew the only way to truly know a thing was to stick your face in it.

[Rolling to Open my brain about the Peregrine: 6 + 2 + 0 = 8]

[BlasTech]

aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAA- THUMP!

"...ow." *cough*

This is all his fault, you realise.

"...ow."

Spying on him isn't even close to enough payback.

Milliway winced and began prising herself free from her dent.

But it's a good start.

Once free she checked all limbs were still present and working within established parameters. Her head was ringing from that hit and she had to take a moment to regain a bit of clarity before taking in her situation. Bugs and monster backing off. Good.

Her eyes went to the chandelier, how far away is it now? She checked the direction of the air ducts to see if she could feasibly reach its fastenings to study it further. Could she?

[Rolling Harm: 4+2+1=7]

[Let's go with "lose your footing" for the harm move]

As you're craning your neck to find the chandelier, Milliway, your hooves slip out from under you.

Maybe you're still dizzy from that knock to the head, or it's that the vents here are on a slope, or maybe it's just the space-shifting nature of the library that's still in play. Whatever the reason, you now find yourself sliding uncontrollably down the ducts.

Eventually, after a short and humiliating ride, the shaft levels out again. The path back to the library is upwards, and it'll be difficult to get a hoof-hold on the slick walls. On the plus side, there's a grate in front of you that leads out of the air ducts.

The downside is that somepony on the other side seems to be screaming.

What do you do?


Hard work! He could do hard work! Well, hard work wasn't ideal - hard work was actually a pain in the flank - but it was preferable to being eaten by angry bugs. Hard work! Luminark rapidly began skittering over to the fallen shelves and grunting as he began to exert his physical and magical strength to righting them. After almost three minutes of hard work he delegated the job to Fluffy.

Luminark needed his brain more than his brawn right now; he was hurriedly taking inventory of any damaged items and thinking about where he might find replacements or supplemental items. Hopefully expanding the library's catalogue would help get him off the Bad List.

[What are some things my Hoard wants that I might be able to go get?]

The library needs new material. I mean, come on, it's been the same catalogue of stuff more or less for how many hundreds of years?

If you want to get back in the library's good books (heh), you're gonna have to find stuff that's new. Stuff that's different. Stuff that's interesting.

You're gonna have to go outside.


[roll0]whitespace

"Heh. Pony." growls the diamond dog, as its eyes flicker between your troops. "I think you and I ... we be friends? ... Heh."

The monster seems to be waiting for you to make the next move.

A lot of your soldiers are also looking at you as if you've gone a bit batty. I mean, two of their own are now off to the infirmary and there'll be a lot of grumbling about this unless they can exact some kind of revenge.

What do you do?


You know what? You're right. The Scrapscallion is a daredevil biker who fearlessly flirts with danger and royalty alike. All this creeping around and thinking carefully just isn't his style. So let's do this thing properly.

Satisfied that his bike his is still in one piece, the Scrapscallion ignored all other safety checks, mounted the Peregrine, and flippped her on. (This particular model of bike is ridden standing up, hugging the chassis while all four hooves work the pedals. It's the Scrapscallion's bike of choice.) The engine thrummed to life; he could feel it pressing into his chest. The hover projectors engaged, and added a steady vrom-vrom-vrom pulsing through his body. Bike and pony lifted off the ground. Not a lick of a breeze ruffled his forelock. The world and everything in it fell away to a distant, dull memory. There was only him, and this beautiful machine beneath. He mushed his cheek against the seat, all the better to feel it rattling in his skull.

Let the labcoats have their careful experiments. The Scrapscallion knew the only way to truly know a thing was to stick your face in it.

[Rolling to Open my brain about the Peregrine: 6 + 2 + 0 = 8]

The world opens up beneath you, and in the wide open expanse it's clear that you are only one small part of it - perhaps not even the main part. Power thrums beneath. Beneath the mountains, the rivers, the grass, and beneath you as well - as the Peregrine lifts you up.

The technology involved in achieving even this is miles beyond your understanding. No offence. I mean, heck, most of the tech in the bunker is ahead of anypony except for maybe Milliway anyway. That's the way its always been. The sun rises, sets, rises, sets, rises, sets again. And everything beneath is untouchable, bathed in the irradiated glow of balefire and necromancy.

[Elanorin]

[Let's go with "lose your footing" for the harm move]

As you're craning your neck to find the chandelier, Milliway, your hooves slip out from under you.

Maybe you're still dizzy from that knock to the head, or it's that the vents here are on a slope, or maybe it's just the space-shifting nature of the library that's still in play. Whatever the reason, you now find yourself sliding uncontrollably down the ducts.

Eventually, after a short and humiliating ride, the shaft levels out again. The path back to the library is upwards, and it'll be difficult to get a hoof-hold on the slick walls. On the plus side, there's a grate in front of you that leads out of the air ducts.

The downside is that somepony on the other side seems to be screaming.

What do you do?


Oh she's not quitting just because it just got harder, or because somepony is in mortal danger and needs help. Doctors and nurses help ponies in need, she's neither. The screaming hurts her ears and for a moment she considers snarling to them to shut up, but then it occurs to her that the screaming might be due to some danger which she doesn't want to attracts, so, instead she just gets on with doing her level best in trying to clamber back up the ducts in pursuit of the chandelier.

[TheAmishPirate]

The world opens up beneath you, and in the wide open expanse it's clear that you are only one small part of it - perhaps not even the main part. Power thrums beneath. Beneath the mountains, the rivers, the grass, and beneath you as well - as the Peregrine lifts you up.

The technology involved in achieving even this is miles beyond your understanding. No offense. I mean, heck, most of the tech in the bunker is ahead of anypony except for maybe Milliway anyway. That's the way its always been. The sun rises, sets, rises, sets, rises, sets again. And everything beneath is untouchable, bathed in the irradiated glow of balefire and necromancy.

Gorgeous.

The Scrapscallion didn't use that word often. He'd tell a mare she's pretty, a Princess she's beautiful, and his bike she's an angel. But gorgeous? That's a special word for special times. And it don't get much more special than the Maelstrom, let me tell you. If asked him to paint a picture of it, he'd stare at you like you'd grown a second head (or third head, as the case may be). It wasn't something you saw. To him, the essence of the Psychic Maelstrom was floating in this impossible vastness, greater than anything you'd ever seen before, and knowing that you were only witnessing a tiny fraction of the whole. That what your eyes were seeing wasn't even real, just your brain's best guess, 'cause it wasn't built to handle something this crazy big. Can you imagine what it would sound like, if it could talk? Or maybe it already has, and we just don't know how to listen?

Like I said, man. Gorgeous.

He came down - reluctantly - from his bike and switched the engine off. Nothing felt wrong, so as far as he was concerned, nothing was wrong. His body, however, was insistently reminding him that something felt wrong with his sides. And back. And flank. And shoulders. And the whole torso region. He was in no shape for a date with a Princess, much less a long ride. With the bike seen to, he waved good-bye to Goops and his team before heading off to the medical wing.

I wonder if I can swing some of the good drugs...

[Balmas]

Right. "Troops, I will escort our wounded to medical. You have fought well; rest assured, I will remember this when it's time for your pay."

So. The assistant heads are kinda locked up. Who's on staff in Medical right now?

[BlasTech]

Oh she's not quitting just because it just got harder, or because somepony is in mortal danger and needs help. Doctors and nurses help ponies in need, she's neither. The screaming hurts her ears and for a moment she considers snarling to them to shut up, but then it occurs to her that the screaming might be due to some danger which she doesn't want to attracts, so, instead she just gets on with doing her level best in trying to clamber back up the ducts in pursuit of the chandelier.

Your best might not be quite enough.

You're barely a minute into your climb, using your metal hoof for leverage, before the walls of the vent start to shake. Icy wind blasts you for a good ten seconds before the place starts to get extremely warm.

And then, as if to make sure you get the hint, a bucket-load of fish comes flying down the duct, smacking you in the face.

[Acting under fire to climb]


He came down - reluctantly - from his bike and switched the engine off. Nothing felt wrong, so as far as he was concerned, nothing was wrong. His body, however, was insistently reminding him that something felt wrong with his sides. And back. And flank. And shoulders. And the whole torso region. He was in no shape for a date with a Princess, much less a long ride. With the bike seen to, he waved good-bye to Goops and his team before heading off to the medical wing.

I wonder if I can swing some of the good drugs...


Right. "Troops, I will escort our wounded to medical. You have fought well; rest assured, I will remember this when it's time for your pay."

So. The assistant heads are kinda locked up. Who's on staff in Medical right now?

Pretty much everypony.

There's Doc Savage, Doc Freepony, Doc Kliener, Tick Doc ... most of the senior "medical" ponies, as well as all of their support staff. The medical bay is, unsurprisingly, packed to the rafters. Equipment, normally used for experiments, has been hastily shoved along one of the walls, and looks like it's leaking something green and corrosive. Apart from some black and yellow caution tape around it, nopony seems to be giving it much attention. Instead, they are focused on the casualties that are being treated from the bomb blast earlier.

Most seem to be in some version of intensive care. Nopony is really available to talk to you.

In the meantime, the diamond dog seems to be picking its teeth with a claw and smiling at the stench of the blood.

[Thanqol]

The library needs new material. I mean, come on, it's been the same catalogue of stuff more or less for how many hundreds of years?

If you want to get back in the library's good books (heh), you're gonna have to find stuff that's new. Stuff that's different. Stuff that's interesting.

You're gonna have to go outside.

Luminark briefly considers the practicality of borrowing some time manipulation spells from the Starswirl wing, maybe see about catapulting himself a hundred years into the future when this all will have blown over. He scratched the idea after a moments contemplation - too many of the ponies he knew were functionally immortal.

Well, he had arms, armour and a friend in Fluffy. He'd gone outside before. Going outside was in fact a large part of his job! He wondered if he could pay somepony else to do it. Well, he was a little broke, but at least he could pay somepony to make him not walk.

Luminark set off in search of... who was it? Garbagehorse? Scrappony? Some sort of garbage themed driver pony, he'd know him when he smelt him.

[Elanorin]

Your best might not be quite enough.

You're barely a minute into your climb, using your metal hoof for leverage, before the walls of the vent start to shake. Icy wind blasts you for a good ten seconds before the place starts to get extremely warm.

And then, as if to make sure you get the hint, a bucket-load of fish comes flying down the duct, smacking you in the face.

[Acting under fire to climb]


Fish?! The hell did that come from?!

Milliway tried her very best to make headway, or at least hold on, but being attacked by fish while trying to climb uphill in an air duct was not something she was very experienced with.

[Rolling AUF: 3+2+1=6]

[TheAmishPirate]

Pretty much everypony.

There's Doc Savage, Doc Freepony, Doc Kliener, Tick Doc ... most of the senior "medical" ponies, as well as all of their support staff. The medical bay is, unsurprisingly, packed to the rafters. Equipment, normally used for experiments, has been hastily shoved along one of the walls, and looks like it's leaking something green and corrosive. Apart from some black and yellow caution tape around it, nopony seems to be giving it much attention. Instead, they are focused on the casualties that are being treated from the bomb blast earlier.

Most seem to be in some version of intensive care. Nopony is really available to talk to you.

In the meantime, the diamond dog seems to be picking its teeth with a claw and smiling at the stench of the blood.

Well hey! The Scrapscallion was a bomb casualty too! And an important one at that! He wasn't going to tire of reminding ponies that the Princess herself asked him to make a run, and he needed to be in tip-top shape to make it happen. However, he knew they were busy too. And crowded. He really didn't need to take up a bed when there were other ponies needing it more. So, out of the goodness of his heart, he'd decline any sort of additional care. If they could just patch him up - and give him some drugs for his troubled troubles - he'd find a quiet spot to rest and recover.

All this he told the first doctor he could successfully flag down.

[Would this be a Manipulate, provided he can flag down a doctor? He wants treatment and painkillers, and in return they won't have to look after him/he won't take up space.]


Luminark briefly considers the practicality of borrowing some time manipulation spells from the Starswirl wing, maybe see about catapulting himself a hundred years into the future when this all will have blown over. He scratched the idea after a moments contemplation - too many of the ponies he knew were functionally immortal.

Well, he had arms, armour and a friend in Fluffy. He'd gone outside before. Going outside was in fact a large part of his job! He wondered if he could pay somepony else to do it. Well, he was a little broke, but at least he could pay somepony to make him not walk.

Luminark set off in search of... who was it? Garbagehorse? Scrappony? Some sort of garbage themed driver pony, he'd know him when he smelt him.

Luminark would find The Scrapscallion in the medical wing. The Scrapscallion would be either chatting with doctors, or trying to flag one down. And despite what popular opinion might suggest, he couldn't smell The Scrapscallion over the sterile smell of the medical wing.

In fact, did something seem a little different about the earth pony today? He looked...less like a pile of garbage. Less coated in unmentionable horrors. Apart from the bruises and unsightly swelling about his middle, there wasn't so much as a speck of dust on him. Nor a waft of decay. And did his mane actually shimmer in the artificial light? Could it be - had he taken...a bath?

"Eyyyyyyyyy, Luminark! Just the pony I wanted to see." He waved Luminark over with a knowing grin and waggling brows. "Or is it going to be Prince Luminark soon? You dog, I didn't think you had it in you." He punched the unicorn on the shoulder affectionately.

[Thanqol]

Luminark would find The Scrapscallion in the medical wing. The Scrapscallion would be either chatting with doctors, or trying to flag one down. And despite what popular opinion might suggest, he couldn't smell The Scrapscallion over the sterile smell of the medical wing.

In fact, did something seem a little different about the earth pony today? He looked...less like a pile of garbage. Less coated in unmentionable horrors. Apart from the bruises and unsightly swelling about his middle, there wasn't so much as a speck of dust on him. Nor a waft of decay. And did his mane actually shimmer in the artificial light? Could it be - had he taken...a bath?

"Eyyyyyyyyy, Luminark! Just the pony I wanted to see." He waved Luminark over with a knowing grin and waggling brows. "Or is it going to be Prince Luminark soon? You dog, I didn't think you had it in you." He punched the unicorn on the shoulder affectionately.

Luminark suppressed an 'ow', produced a handkerchief and rubbed idly at the spot where the earth pony had touched him.

He didn't trust this alleged cleanliness. It was probably some avante guarde form of filthiness he hadn't figured out yet.

"I need to make a salvage trip, immediately," said Luminark. He wasn't sure what this 'prince' business was but it sounded ominous and engaging in it might get him more punches.

[Balmas]

Pretty much everypony.

There's Doc Savage, Doc Freepony, Doc Kliener, Tick Doc ... most of the senior "medical" ponies, as well as all of their support staff. The medical bay is, unsurprisingly, packed to the rafters. Equipment, normally used for experiments, has been hastily shoved along one of the walls, and looks like it's leaking something green and corrosive. Apart from some black and yellow caution tape around it, nopony seems to be giving it much attention. Instead, they are focused on the casualties that are being treated from the bomb blast earlier.

Most seem to be in some version of intensive care. Nopony is really available to talk to you.

In the meantime, the diamond dog seems to be picking its teeth with a claw and smiling at the stench of the blood.

There are very few time when I am not instantly the center of attention in any room I enter. You'd think that being three times as large as anypony else and carrying a dog who's even larger would attract at least some attention.

"Let me assure you," I address the Diamond Dog. "If you even think of harming anyone here, I will take you apart, atom by atom, in a way that will make you wish you'd just been shot downstairs."


"Eyyyyyyyyy, Luminark! Just the pony I wanted to see." He waved Luminark over with a knowing grin and waggling brows. "Or is it going to be Prince Luminark soon? You dog, I didn't think you had it in you." He punched the unicorn on the shoulder affectionately.

"Excellent work, Scrapscallion. Good to see you can follow some directions, at least. Luminark, Doc Savage, a word?" I angle my horn to indicate the massive lump of fur hanging in my telekinesis. "I need either a sedative spell or enough Med-X to render an eight hundred pound patient unconscious."

[Thanqol]

"Excellent work, Scrapscallion. Good to see you can follow some directions, at least. Luminark, Doc Savage, a word?" I angle my horn to indicate the massive lump of fur hanging in my telekinesis. "I need either a sedative spell or enough Med-X to render an eight hundred pound patient unconscious."

"I - uh -" Luminark's brain briefly crashes when he realizes he's in the Administrator's presence. He recovers quickly, though. "I can create a state of sufficiently heightened terror to induce catatonia. Recovery of the subject's sanity will be your concern, however."

[TheAmishPirate]

Luminark suppressed an 'ow', produced a handkerchief and rubbed idly at the spot where the earth pony had touched him.

He didn't trust this alleged cleanliness. It was probably some avante guarde form of filthiness he hadn't figured out yet.

"I need to make a salvage trip, immediately," said Luminark. He wasn't sure what this 'prince' business was but it sounded ominous and engaging in it might get him more punches.

"Ooooh, gonna have to slow down there, buddy." The Scrapscallion patted him reassuringly on the back, totally and most assuredly unaware of the unicorn's discomfort. "Her High Equalityness needs me to go check and see what's what with the storm generators. Unless it's someplace along the way, that's gonna be a no-can-do. I'll getcha next run, k?"


"Excellent work, Scrapscallion. Good to see you can follow some directions, at least. Luminark, Doc Savage, a word?" I angle my horn to indicate the massive lump of fur hanging in my telekinesis. "I need either a sedative spell or enough Med-X to render an eight hundred pound patient unconscious."


"I - uh -" Luminark's brain briefly crashes when he realizes he's in the Administrator's presence. He recovers quickly, though. "I can create a state of sufficiently heightened terror to induce catatonia. Recovery of the subject's sanity will be your concern, however."

The Scrapscallion flashed the Princess an easy smile. Dang, did adoration from royalty ever get old?

Then, in a whisper that only Luminark could hear, he added, "She totally digs you, man."

[BlasTech]

Well hey! The Scrapscallion was a bomb casualty too! And an important one at that! He wasn't going to tire of reminding ponies that the Princess herself asked him to make a run, and he needed to be in tip-top shape to make it happen. However, he knew they were busy too. And crowded. He really didn't need to take up a bed when there were other ponies needing it more. So, out of the goodness of his heart, he'd decline any sort of additional care. If they could just patch him up - and give him some drugs for his troubled troubles - he'd find a quiet spot to rest and recover.

All this he told the first doctor he could successfully flag down.

[Would this be a Manipulate, provided he can flag down a doctor? He wants treatment and painkillers, and in return they won't have to look after him/he won't take up space.]

Hey, the Administrator is, like, right there. These doctors aren't gonna do anything without her say so when she's around. In fact, you'll probably get shoved aside if you get in the way, what with them all trying to look extra busy.



There are very few time when I am not instantly the center of attention in any room I enter. You'd think that being three times as large as anypony else and carrying a dog who's even larger would attract at least some attention.

"Let me assure you," I address the Diamond Dog. "If you even think of harming anyone here, I will take you apart, atom by atom, in a way that will make you wish you'd just been shot downstairs."

"Excellent work, Scrapscallion. Good to see you can follow some directions, at least. Luminark, Doc Savage, a word?" I angle my horn to indicate the massive lump of fur hanging in my telekinesis. "I need either a sedative spell or enough Med-X to render an eight hundred pound patient unconscious."

The dog just grins back at you, its pointed teeth glistening in the lighting of the medibay.

Doc Savage turns, eyes going wide at your presence. Then nearly popping out of his head as he finally notices the creature you're carrying around as if it was one of hell's piñatas.

"Uh - Ah - um!!" is all he can say for a few seconds.

"That is ... ahem ... well. If-If you wish it ma'am, w-w-we can sedate a um ... that thing. Except ... it's, well, we're using that med-x for our patients right now. We don't have the supplies to knock out a beast of that size as well."

Nearby, one of the nurses gasps as she too, becomes aware of the large, grey, pointy-death-distraction that you're carting around. It's a testament to how busy they are that more ponies haven't noticed yet. But the longer you stick around, the more likely you're going to distract a pony doing something critical; like surgery..

[TheAmishPirate]

Hey, the Administrator is, like, right there. These doctors aren't gonna do anything without her say so when she's around. In fact, you'll probably get shoved aside if you get in the way, what with them all trying to look extra busy.

Eh, that's not so bad. The Princess will no doubt see that her hero gets the treatment he needs to do his job. The Scrapscallion is all too happy to let her take the reins.

[BlasTech]

Fish?! The hell did that come from?!

Milliway tried her very best to make headway, or at least hold on, but being attacked by fish while trying to climb uphill in an air duct was not something she was very experienced with.

[Rolling AUF: 3+2+1=6]

The fish are the least of your problems.

The water that they live in is following up.

It smashes into you, sweeping you away. Vent coverings slam shut as you approach, propelling you towards who knows where.

If only you had a friend to bail you out.

You do have friends, don't you?

[Elanorin]

The fish are the least of your problems.

The water that they live in is following up.

It smashes into you, sweeping you away. Vent coverings slam shut as you approach, propelling you towards who knows where.

If only you had a friend to bail you out.

You do have friends, don't you?

Friends? *snort* Augh! *cough, splutter, gasp*

Is there some damn river or something outside?! Since when?!

Friends are for prissy little unicorns who have to have their sycophantic entourage wherever they go to make sure they don't collapse in a heap of depression and die of a, *dramatic gasp* broken broken heart.

Celestia, above, friends. Seriously? As if I'd ever make that f*cking mistake again. Look, if you're looking for friendship, go to Luminark, or our mighty Administrator, she's big on friendship. Or so she says. Doubt she actually has any, she's too smart for that. As much as I can't stand her I do, reluctantly, concede I owe her for curing me of my friendships. I'd be quite happy if I never see Target Practice ever again. Or Trees, for that matter. I'm much better off on my own, free of distractions, and safe from trust. If I want somepony to talk to I have Tinker Belle, my ongoing construct project, not that she can talk back yet, but sometimes that's just as well. Oh and then there's Doc, Doctrine of Hype, he's good for a drink and random rants, he understands the value of silence not to feel compelled to fill it with babble constantly too.

That's plenty.

[Balmas]

The dog just grins back at you, its pointed teeth glistening in the lighting of the medibay.

Doc Savage turns, eyes going wide at your presence. Then nearly popping out of his head as he finally notices the creature you're carrying around as if it was one of hell's piñatas.

"Uh - Ah - um!!" is all he can say for a few seconds.

"That is ... ahem ... well. If-If you wish it ma'am, w-w-we can sedate a um ... that thing. Except ... it's, well, we're using that med-x for our patients right now. We don't have the supplies to knock out a beast of that size as well."

Nearby, one of the nurses gasps as she too, becomes aware of the large, grey, pointy-death-distraction that you're carting around. It's a testament to how busy they are that more ponies haven't noticed yet. But the longer you stick around, the more likely you're going to distract a pony doing something critical; like surgery..


Eh, that's not so bad. The Princess will no doubt see that her hero gets the treatment he needs to do his job. The Scrapscallion is all too happy to let her take the reins.


"I - uh -" Luminark's brain briefly crashes when he realizes he's in the Administrator's presence. He recovers quickly, though. "I can create a state of sufficiently heightened terror to induce catatonia. Recovery of the subject's sanity will be your concern, however."

"Right." Starlight sighs. "My subjects take priority; you take as much supplies as you need. Just make sure that my little ponies get healed properly. Standard triage rules--sort into those who'll live, those who won't, and those who will live only if they get immediate care, and treat the third and second group first. Luminark, I'd appreciate having that spell on standby."

Scrapscallion, you're at 3-harm right now, correct? I'm sure that you could schmooze one of the doctors into getting that down to 2-harm. Once you're at the point that you can recover on your own, the doctors will probably move on to someone else who needs their help.

Either way, Starlight is hauling tail out of medical. It'd be nice to have a checkup herself, to remove some shrapnel, but she really does mean what she said about her little ponies; if it comes down to her health or theirs, they need it more.

Somewhere open. Somewhere that she can hold her deathclaw away from the walls. She thinks, her horn starting to ache, and trots towards the hangers. Once she arrives, she floats her deathclaw up away from the group, and begins to slowly choke the life out of it. It's a stopgap measure, but in the absence of drugs or actual stuff like that, unconsciousness via asphyxiation is a good second.

How long until the deathclaw notices? How does he react?

[Thanqol]

The Scrapscallion flashed the Princess an easy smile. Dang, did adoration from royalty ever get old?

Then, in a whisper that only Luminark could hear, he added, "She totally digs you, man."


"Right." Starlight sighs. "My subjects take priority; you take as much supplies as you need. Just make sure that my little ponies get healed properly. Standard triage rules--sort into those who'll live, those who won't, and those who will live only if they get immediate care, and treat the third and second group first. Luminark, I'd appreciate having that spell on standby."
...

Either way, Starlight is hauling tail out of medical.

"Well - " before Luminark can go into a long winded reply the Administrator just swans on past, leaving him hanging while a disgusting commoner breathes distracting nonsense in his ear.

He awkwardly tries to figure out the situation for a few seconds before deciding it was best to pretend it never happened and move on with his life.

"So, as I was saying, you will transport me into the wilderness immediately," Luminark says to garbagehorse.

[BlasTech]

Friends? *snort* Augh! *cough, splutter, gasp*

Is there some damn river or something outside?! Since when?!

Friends are for prissy little unicorns who have to have their sycophantic entourage wherever they go to make sure they don't collapse in a heap of depression and die of a, *dramatic gasp* broken broken heart.

Celestia, above, friends. Seriously? As if I'd ever make that f*cking mistake again. Look, if you're looking for friendship, go to Luminark, or our mighty Administrator, she's big on friendship. Or so she says. Doubt she actually has any, she's too smart for that. As much as I can't stand her I do, reluctantly, concede I owe her for curing me of my friendships. I'd be quite happy if I never see Target Practice ever again. Or Trees, for that matter. I'm much better off on my own, free of distractions, and safe from trust. If I want somepony to talk to I have Tinker Belle, my ongoing construct project, not that she can talk back yet, but sometimes that's just as well. Oh and then there's Doc, Doctrine of Hype, he's good for a drink and random rants, he understands the value of silence not to feel compelled to fill it with babble constantly too.

That's plenty.

Trees at least, isn't going to be one of your problems.

Well, given that there's nopony who would be there to help you, then alone is where you find yourself. The vents expel you with almost gleeful force. There's a brief sensation of falling (as well as fetid air) before you land, face first, in what can only be described as "stinky garbage water"

And garbage is the correct term. As your eyes adjust, you notice walls of junk and trash around you - the detritus of living underground. There's even a dead body, floating in the water. The twisted metal and solid steel walls mark this as one of the Bunker's trash compactors. Fortunately, you should be able to get yourself out through the access hatch without any trouble. So long as nopony activates the compaction cycle.

*Ka - chunk - THUNK*

Huh. Well, you've still got about 30 seconds before you're turned into a pancake. What do you do?


Somewhere open. Somewhere that she can hold her deathclaw away from the walls. She thinks, her horn starting to ache, and trots towards the hangers. Once she arrives, she floats her deathclaw up away from the group, and begins to slowly choke the life out of it. It's a stopgap measure, but in the absence of drugs or actual stuff like that, unconsciousness via asphyxiation is a good second.

How long until the deathclaw notices? How does he react?

Not long. It's hard to choke out a creature, even with magic as powerful as yours, but it's even harder not to notice as it starts to happen.

To its credit, the diamond dog doesn't even struggle. At least, not after an initial moment of confusion. It just smirks at you, those deadly pointed teeth glistening.

Is this something you do often? Choking ponies into unconsciousness? How do you ensure that you don't accidentally kill them?

[Elanorin]

Trees at least, isn't going to be one of your problems.

Well, given that there's nopony who would be there to help you, then alone is where you find yourself. The vents expel you with almost gleeful force. There's a brief sensation of falling (as well as fetid air) before you land, face first, in what can only be described as "stinky garbage water"

And garbage is the correct term. As your eyes adjust, you notice walls of junk and trash around you - the detritus of living underground. There's even a dead body, floating in the water. The twisted metal and solid steel walls mark this as one of the Bunker's trash compactors. Fortunately, you should be able to get yourself out through the access hatch without any trouble. So long as nopony activates the compaction cycle.

*Ka - chunk - THUNK*

Huh. Well, you've still got about 30 seconds before you're turned into a pancake. What do you do?

Milliway lifted her head out of soppy garbage and spat whatever unholy bit of revolting sludge had forced itself in to her mouth and throat upon impact. A trash compactor. She felt sick at the taste and smell that was overwhelming her senses.

Her eyes lingered across the sludgy wet mess on the dead body for a second or two, until the loud noise announced the one thing that had been missing from this day.

Of course it did.

She cursed and swam/crawled through the garbage towards the body to nab it and grab it with her as she made for the access hatch. This pony might be dead, but that didn't mean it wasn't useful. Tell me, does she recognise it? Anypony she knows?


To its credit, the diamond dog doesn't even struggle. At least, not after an initial moment of confusion. It just smirks at you, those deadly pointed teeth glistening.

Is this something you do often? Choking ponies into unconsciousness? How do you ensure that you don't accidentally kill them?

Judging by the meat-bag I'm dragging with my teeth, I'm thinking it's a method still in the trial and error phase. Or are you saying this is not your hoofiwork, Administrator?

[TheAmishPirate]

Friends? *snort* Augh! *cough, splutter, gasp*

Is there some damn river or something outside?! Since when?!

Friends are for prissy little unicorns who have to have their sycophantic entourage wherever they go to make sure they don't collapse in a heap of depression and die of a, *dramatic gasp* broken broken heart.

Celestia, above, friends. Seriously? As if I'd ever make that f*cking mistake again. Look, if you're looking for friendship, go to Luminark, or our mighty Administrator, she's big on friendship. Or so she says. Doubt she actually has any, she's too smart for that. As much as I can't stand her I do, reluctantly, concede I owe her for curing me of my friendships. I'd be quite happy if I never see Target Practice ever again. Or Trees, for that matter. I'm much better off on my own, free of distractions, and safe from trust. If I want somepony to talk to I have Tinker Belle, my ongoing construct project, not that she can talk back yet, but sometimes that's just as well. Oh and then there's Doc, Doctrine of Hype, he's good for a drink and random rants, he understands the value of silence not to feel compelled to fill it with babble constantly too.

That's plenty.

See, y'know, sometimes? I swing by your workshop between runs. Try to, anyway. Check up on you, see what you're working on, maybe try and...watch the magic happen. Not magic though, it's science, because you're...you work with science, and it's like magic. Because that's how well you do it. The science.

I, ah, guess this means you don't appreciate those visits?


Scrapscallion, you're at 3-harm right now, correct? I'm sure that you could schmooze one of the doctors into getting that down to 2-harm. Once you're at the point that you can recover on your own, the doctors will probably move on to someone else who needs their help.

The Scrapscallion would very much like to schmooze a segment of Harm away. Now that the Princess has left, who's the first doctor he can flag down?


"Well - " before Luminark can go into a long winded reply the Administrator just swans on past, leaving him hanging while a disgusting commoner breathes distracting nonsense in his ear.

He awkwardly tries to figure out the situation for a few seconds before deciding it was best to pretend it never happened and move on with his life.

"So, as I was saying, you will transport me into the wilderness immediately," Luminark says to garbagehorse.

"So, as I was saying, no-can-do, Narky," The Scrapscallion explained to the high-strung nerd. "Unless the Princess gives the go-ahead, she's got this next run. Why don't you talk it over with her? Maybe over a nice, candlelit dinner, just the two of you? Eh? Eh?" He elbowed Luminark and winked. "I have it on the best of sources that she's just waiting for you to ask her out, dude. You sweep her off her hooves, and maybe she gets you your little ride in the country."

His face grew serious, and he raised an eyebrow. "You can ask a Princess out, right?"

[Elanorin]

See, y'know, sometimes? I swing by your workshop between runs. Try to, anyway. Check up on you, see what you're working on, maybe try and...watch the magic happen. Not magic though, it's science, because you're...you work with science, and it's like magic. Because that's how well you do it. The science.

I, ah, guess this means you don't appreciate those visits?

Hm? Sorry, have we- oh! Scrapstallion! My number one fan- I mean- friend! Totally remember you. Love your visits.

Yes, we're... friends.

Got that 5-gear shift-combine I mentioned?

[Thanqol]

"So, as I was saying, no-can-do, Narky," The Scrapscallion explained to the high-strung nerd. "Unless the Princess gives the go-ahead, she's got this next run. Why don't you talk it over with her? Maybe over a nice, candlelit dinner, just the two of you? Eh? Eh?" He elbowed Luminark and winked. "I have it on the best of sources that she's just waiting for you to ask her out, dude. You sweep her off her hooves, and maybe she gets you your little ride in the country."

His face grew serious, and he raised an eyebrow. "You can ask a Princess out, right?"

"See, this is what separates the unicorns from the ani - other kinds of ponies," said Luminark expansively. "You see a big pony with a big hat and an atypical number of limbs and you go all starry eyed and start calling her a Princess and thinking she's the bee's knees. But I favour ponies with powerful intellects, ponies who can build and create, ponies who can overcome the limitations of their own bodies to -" Luminark abruptly stopped and changed courses. "Look, this is important, do it and I'll give you money."

Manipulate: 2

[Balmas]

Not long. It's hard to choke out a creature, even with magic as powerful as yours, but it's even harder not to notice as it starts to happen.

To its credit, the diamond dog doesn't even struggle. At least, not after an initial moment of confusion. It just smirks at you, those deadly pointed teeth glistening.

Is this something you do often? Choking ponies into unconsciousness? How do you ensure that you don't accidentally kill them?

I'll be honest. There've been times when I've been frustrated with my little ponies, and it's crossed my mind that they'd be much improved by having their eyeballs squeezed out of their heads. But I've not actually done it very often--once or twice, nearly a century ago, when a few ponies somehow got it into their head that I was anything but their friend. They called me a tyrant, can you believe that?

As for how to stop, it mostly comes down to the feel you get from your magic. You're sitting there, exerting pressure, and feeling that blood pulsing in your grip. If, at any time, the pulsing stops, you've probably gone too far.

Speaking of, can I tell whether this is working at all? Really, I'm kinda wondering whether you even can choke a hellhound, what with all that muscle around their upper body. Any limpness, faintness of breath, anything?

[BlasTech]

Milliway lifted her head out of soppy garbage and spat whatever unholy bit of revolting sludge had forced itself in to her mouth and throat upon impact. A trash compactor. She felt sick at the taste and smell that was overwhelming her senses.

Her eyes lingered across the sludgy wet mess on the dead body for a second or two, until the loud noise announced the one thing that had been missing from this day.

Of course it did.

She cursed and swam/crawled through the garbage towards the body to nab it and grab it with her as she made for the access hatch. This pony might be dead, but that didn't mean it wasn't useful. Tell me, does she recognise it? Anypony she knows?

Yeah, it's Power Overwhelming. Department head of the electrical engineering division. From the looks of it, she hasn't been down here long, but somepony has cut her throat pretty thoroughly.

The control panel on the door buzzes red as you hit the open button. Somepony's locked it.

And the walls are closing in.

What do you do?


"See, this is what separates the unicorns from the ani - other kinds of ponies," said Luminark expansively. "You see a big pony with a big hat and an atypical number of limbs and you go all starry eyed and start calling her a Princess and thinking she's the bee's knees. But I favour ponies with powerful intellects, ponies who can build and create, ponies who can overcome the limitations of their own bodies to -" Luminark abruptly stopped and changed courses. "Look, this is important, do it and I'll give you money."

Manipulate: 2

Oh, remember those experiments that had been shoved to one side? The ones that somepony had simply taped off and left whilst the triage was going on?

Well, something in the pile of junk goes *pffszsshzzt* and suddenly it's belching out a dark green smoke that smells of battery acid. The ponies nearest it start coughing, eyes watering and stumbling about in the push to get away.

What do you do?


I'll be honest. There've been times when I've been frustrated with my little ponies, and it's crossed my mind that they'd be much improved by having their eyeballs squeezed out of their heads. But I've not actually done it very often--once or twice, nearly a century ago, when a few ponies somehow got it into their head that I was anything but their friend. They called me a tyrant, can you believe that?

As for how to stop, it mostly comes down to the feel you get from your magic. You're sitting there, exerting pressure, and feeling that blood pulsing in your grip. If, at any time, the pulsing stops, you've probably gone too far.

Speaking of, can I tell whether this is working at all? Really, I'm kinda wondering whether you even can choke a hellhound, what with all that muscle around their upper body. Any limpness, faintness of breath, anything?

The technical details are blah blah blah boring.

He's in your magic, you're choking him and you're trying to do it without killing him.

[Roll + Hard] to choke him out. (Going to just co-opt the "attack someone" move, since I can't think of anything more apropos)

[Thanqol]

Oh, remember those experiments that had been shoved to one side? The ones that somepony had simply taped off and left whilst the triage was going on?

Well, something in the pile of junk goes *pffszsshzzt* and suddenly it's belching out a dark green smoke that smells of battery acid. The ponies nearest it start coughing, eyes watering and stumbling about in the push to get away.

What do you do?

Unguarded experiments you say? Experiments somepony might have reason to swiftly remove from the vicinity, you say? Experiments of a biological, necromantic or generally creepy origin you say?

Acquisitive Eye: 12
- What is this truly worth?
- Will my hoard accept it?
- Who will try to take it from me once it's mine?

[Elanorin]

Yeah, it's Power Overwhelming. Department head of the electrical engineering division. From the looks of it, she hasn't been down here long, but somepony has cut her throat pretty thoroughly.

The control panel on the door buzzes red as you hit the open button. Somepony's locked it.

And the walls are closing in.

What do you do?

Locked? Oh yeah, Luminark? You think that's gonna stop me!? Don't think I don't know it's you.

It's just a simple matter of yanking the control panel open, shorting the tracking lead in the garbage water, snapping the failsafe, circumventing the trigger board and reversing the polarity aaaaaand...

[Rolling Things Speak on the garbage access control panel: 1+4+2=7 Who handled this last before me?
Should I do an AUF roll for breaking out?]

[Balmas]

Whoops, forgot to roll.

[roll0]

[BlasTech]

Unguarded experiments you say? Experiments somepony might have reason to swiftly remove from the vicinity, you say? Experiments of a biological, necromantic or generally creepy origin you say?

Acquisitive Eye: 12
- What is this truly worth?
- Will my hoard accept it?
- Who will try to take it from me once it's mine?

That indeed. They're pretty valuable - say about 2 barter if you were to sell them to the right ponies. Maybe more. There's cybernetics, potions, implants and all sorts of medical-related science junk in there that are probably important to somepony. The real value, however, lies in some of the tech itself.

Your hoard, however, hungers for outside tech - this stuff is all home-grown; bits and pieces of work that the various science heads have cobbled together over the last month or two. While your hoard will allow you to store it there, it won't "accept" it as part of itself at this point.

Who will try to take it back. Well, the list starts with Doc Savage. Some of the juiciest bits belong to him and his work on storing memory and understanding the pony mind. He's also smart enough to track down anypony who uses the confusion to steal something. The list also includes Big Boss (who would want the goods to fuel the Bunker's nascient black market) and Target Practice (who, as the chief of security, would be told to hunt down the thief).

The bit about the real value? Well, Doc Savage's experiments also include storing some of his own memories. Memories that could be retrieved and read, if you enlist the help of the right pony. Who knows what might be in there if he's been sloppy enough. Passwords? Blackmail material? Hidden experiments? The real value is having a pony's secrets available to you - that's power.


Locked? Oh yeah, Luminark? You think that's gonna stop me!? Don't think I don't know it's you.

It's just a simple matter of yanking the control panel open, shorting the tracking lead in the garbage water, snapping the failsafe, circumventing the trigger board and reversing the polarity aaaaaand...

[Rolling Things Speak on the garbage access control panel: 1+4+2=7 Who handled this last before me?
Should I do an AUF roll for breaking out?]

The wiring inside has been tampered with, but not expertly. You can read the hoof-work for the intelligent, but un-practiced sabotage that it was. Everything is strangely ordered though, the wires tied up to one side, and the casings stripped just so. It's almost as if the pony who did it knew the proper methods of damaging the door, but had never really had to get her hooves dirty before.

You're sure of it. Proper Process, the divisional secretary, was the pony who last tampered with the door panel.

In the meantime, the walls continue to close in.

[Yup, AUF to open the door]


Whoops, forgot to roll.

[roll0]

It turns out, it's harder than you thought to choke out the diamond dog. Thick throat muscles bulge, fighting back against your telekinetic grip. You're not quite getting through, and if you keep at it for too long, your magic will eventually tire out.

The plus side is that the dog is still in your magical hold, despite his resistance.

What do you do now?

[Balmas]

It turns out, it's harder than you thought to choke out the diamond dog. Thick throat muscles bulge, fighting back against your telekinetic grip. You're not quite getting through, and if you keep at it for too long, your magic will eventually tire out.

The plus side is that the dog is still in your magical hold, despite his resistance.

What do you do now?

Ugh. "You know, I really do try to be nice." My head sags a bit, and I bite back a sigh. "I give you a second chance, a place in my organization, even after you've murdered several of my own. And now, now that I'm trying to make it possible to treat you, you continue to fight. Don't you realize--doesn't anyone realize that I'm their friend? All I want is to make sure that everyone can live together, to make my perfect world a reality. And still, you fight."

The light around my horn means he probably won't notice the shift in the magical frequencies, or the charging spell. He might feel the weakening magic around his neck, though, so I lift him even higher in the air; I'll need a bit of leeway for what comes next. The first sharp zing of ozone starts to fill the air.

"And so, for now--not forever mind, just until I have more time to deal with you--I'm going to have to ask you to die."

And with that, the air turns white with my lightning.

[Seize by force, 6,2, +2. [10]. Inflict terrible harm, take definite hold. If it's possible to inflict terrible harm twice, I'll do that, otherwise go for Take Little Harm. Point is, I'm doing everything in my power to kill this guy right here, right now.]

[TheAmishPirate]

Oh, remember those experiments that had been shoved to one side? The ones that somepony had simply taped off and left whilst the triage was going on?

Well, something in the pile of junk goes *pffszsshzzt* and suddenly it's belching out a dark green smoke that smells of battery acid. The ponies nearest it start coughing, eyes watering and stumbling about in the push to get away.

What do you do?

Well while some nerds stood around and used their brains, there were ponies in trouble. Ponies in danger. Ponies in need of a hero.

A hero like...The Scrapscallion.

Donning his goggles, the ruggedly handsome Scrapscallion jacked a nearby stretcher and kicked it - literally - up to speed. "Gangway!" He shouted as he charged headlong into the acid cloud, the foul mist parting around him like magic.

His plan was, as plans go, pretty simple. Scoop up ponies onto his stretcher until it couldn't hold any more, buck it away to safety, pick up a straggler himself - bonus points if she's cute - powerslide away, deliver one-liner, revel in sweet victory. Piece of cake.

[Rolling to Act Under Acid Fire: 3 + 5 + 2 = 10]

[Thanqol]

That indeed. They're pretty valuable - say about 2 barter if you were to sell them to the right ponies. Maybe more. There's cybernetics, potions, implants and all sorts of medical-related science junk in there that are probably important to somepony. The real value, however, lies in some of the tech itself.

Your hoard, however, hungers for outside tech - this stuff is all home-grown; bits and pieces of work that the various science heads have cobbled together over the last month or two. While your hoard will allow you to store it there, it won't "accept" it as part of itself at this point.

Who will try to take it back. Well, the list starts with Doc Savage. Some of the juiciest bits belong to him and his work on storing memory and understanding the pony mind. He's also smart enough to track down anypony who uses the confusion to steal something. The list also includes Big Boss (who would want the goods to fuel the Bunker's nascient black market) and Target Practice (who, as the chief of security, would be told to hunt down the thief).

The bit about the real value? Well, Doc Savage's experiments also include storing some of his own memories. Memories that could be retrieved and read, if you enlist the help of the right pony. Who knows what might be in there if he's been sloppy enough. Passwords? Blackmail material? Hidden experiments? The real value is having a pony's secrets available to you - that's power.

Good enough. Luminark's gonna steals it! And the good thing about books is that you can steal the stuff inside without stealing the book itself. Luminark takes a deep breath, proceeds through the fog, grabs an extension cable on the machine and plugs it into his forehead gem with the intention of downloading all its knowledge into himself. It's the same vector ghosts get in to possess him through so it should be fine. Perfectly safe.

Open your brain: 3 woop woop woop. Though that does give me enough XP for an advance and therefore Weird+3

[Elanorin]

The wiring inside has been tampered with, but not expertly. You can read the hoof-work for the intelligent, but un-practiced sabotage that it was. Everything is strangely ordered though, the wires tied up to one side, and the casings stripped just so. It's almost as if the pony who did it knew the proper methods of damaging the door, but had never really had to get her hooves dirty before.

You're sure of it. Proper Process, the divisional secretary, was the pony who last tampered with the door panel.

In the meantime, the walls continue to close in.

[Yup, AUF to open the door]

Proper Process, huh. Well, that was certainly interesting. Not information she was inclined to act on right now, but useful data nonetheless.

[Rolling AUF to short the door open: 4+3+1=8]

[BlasTech]

Ugh. "You know, I really do try to be nice." My head sags a bit, and I bite back a sigh. "I give you a second chance, a place in my organization, even after you've murdered several of my own. And now, now that I'm trying to make it possible to treat you, you continue to fight. Don't you realize--doesn't anyone realize that I'm their friend? All I want is to make sure that everyone can live together, to make my perfect world a reality. And still, you fight."

The light around my horn means he probably won't notice the shift in the magical frequencies, or the charging spell. He might feel the weakening magic around his neck, though, so I lift him even higher in the air; I'll need a bit of leeway for what comes next. The first sharp zing of ozone starts to fill the air.

"And so, for now--not forever mind, just until I have more time to deal with you--I'm going to have to ask you to die."

And with that, the air turns white with my lightning.

[10][/B]. Inflict terrible harm, take definite hold. If it's possible to inflict terrible harm twice, I'll do that, otherwise go for Take Little Harm. Point is, I'm doing everything in my power to kill this guy right here, right now.]

The diamond dog spasms in the lightning, struggling only involuntarily against your magical grip.

The smirk on his face slips, as the electricity arcs across his body. That tail, armoured and piercing slashes at you - although whether due to an intent to injure, or just a side-effect, it's impossible to say. Either way, it glances off your armour harmlessly as you continue killing the creature.

Eventually, it's done. The diamond dog is dead, and its smoking corpse lies at your feet.


Well while some nerds stood around and used their brains, there were ponies in trouble. Ponies in danger. Ponies in need of a hero.

A hero like...The Scrapscallion.

Donning his goggles, the ruggedly handsome Scrapscallion jacked a nearby stretcher and kicked it - literally - up to speed. "Gangway!" He shouted as he charged headlong into the acid cloud, the foul mist parting around him like magic.

His plan was, as plans go, pretty simple. Scoop up ponies onto his stretcher until it couldn't hold any more, buck it away to safety, pick up a straggler himself - bonus points if she's cute - powerslide away, deliver one-liner, revel in sweet victory. Piece of cake.

[Rolling to Act Under [S]Acid Fire: 3 + 5 + 2 = 10]


Good enough. Luminark's gonna steals it! And the good thing about books is that you can steal the stuff inside without stealing the book itself. Luminark takes a deep breath, proceeds through the fog, grabs an extension cable on the machine and plugs it into his forehead gem with the intention of downloading all its knowledge into himself. It's the same vector ghosts get in to possess him through so it should be fine. Perfectly safe.

Open your brain: 3 woop woop woop. Though that does give me enough XP for an advance and therefore Weird+3

Okay, so here's how this scene is going to go.

Scraps, you're being all awesome. You've got some of the doctors out, some of the patients, and have just located a cute nurse to escort to safety, when something black shoots out of the acid cloud. It wraps around her neck and drags her back into the darkness.

At this point, the HAZMAT alarms go off, and the corner of the room where the gas is coming from starts getting doused with chemicals. The gas dissipates, only to reveal what can only be described as a hellish, electronic, automaton. It's made up out of the bits and pieces of the experiments that had been there - all cables, jars, scrap metal. Its eyes are PDA screens and dozens of electrical cables writhe around behind it like tentacles.

Luminark? One of those, is the one that you just plugged into your forehead. It's still connected and it doesn't want to let go.

What do you two do?


Proper Process, huh. Well, that was certainly interesting. Not information she was inclined to act on right now, but useful data nonetheless.

[Rolling AUF to short the door open: 4+3+1=8]

The door sparks and opens, clanking its way back up into the roof.

"Huh, what's that?" somepony says, from down the hall.

A bunch of hoofsteps start to approach, it'll only be a moment until they arrive. Behind, the walls of the garbage room are continuing to close. You can get out, but then you'll have to get past whomever it is that's out there.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

Okay, so here's how this scene is going to go.

Scraps, you're being all awesome. You've got some of the doctors out, some of the patients, and have just located a cute nurse to escort to safety, when something black shoots out of the acid cloud. It wraps around her neck and drags her back into the darkness.

At this point, the HAZMAT alarms go off, and the corner of the room where the gas is coming from starts getting doused with chemicals. The gas dissipates, only to reveal what can only be described as a hellish, electronic, automaton. It's made up out of the bits and pieces of the experiments that had been there - all cables, jars, scrap metal. Its eyes are PDA screens and dozens of electrical cables writhe around behind it like tentacles.

Luminark? One of those, is the one that you just plugged into your forehead. It's still connected and it doesn't want to let go.

What do you two do?

Oh heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeck no. No tentaclogical monstrosity steals The Scrapscallion's girl and gets away with it.

With a flip and a flourish he drew his revolver. "Stand back, everypony," he growled around the mouthpiece. "I'm 'bout to give some technical support." He charged through a rain of chemicals into a storm of flailing wires, firing at anything with a screen. All the while his eyes were on the nurse. No shot or cable so much as ruffled her mane, he made sure of it.

[Rolling Seize By Force to rescue the nurse. Roll: 1 + 1 - 1 = 1, choosing It’s safe, secure, and undamaged in the fighting. Dealing 2-harm with a revolver, The Scrapscallion has 2-armor from Daredevil and Impossible Reflexes.]

[Elanorin]

The door sparks and opens, clanking its way back up into the roof.

"Huh, what's that?" somepony says, from down the hall.

A bunch of hoofsteps start to approach, it'll only be a moment until they arrive. Behind, the walls of the garbage room are continuing to close. You can get out, but then you'll have to get past whomever it is that's out there.

What do you do?

Ponyfeathers.

Well, beaten up by a cliche and soaked in soggy stinking garbage with a corpse between her teeth Milliway was not in the mood to play games. The hatch opened on command and with a sloppy flop Power Overwhelming emerged through the hatch quickly followed by Milliway herself, only slightly less soggy. She sat down to catch her breath, hamming up her exhaustion and sorry state a bit.

Let them come.

[Thanqol]

Okay, so here's how this scene is going to go.

Scraps, you're being all awesome. You've got some of the doctors out, some of the patients, and have just located a cute nurse to escort to safety, when something black shoots out of the acid cloud. It wraps around her neck and drags her back into the darkness.

At this point, the HAZMAT alarms go off, and the corner of the room where the gas is coming from starts getting doused with chemicals. The gas dissipates, only to reveal what can only be described as a hellish, electronic, automaton. It's made up out of the bits and pieces of the experiments that had been there - all cables, jars, scrap metal. Its eyes are PDA screens and dozens of electrical cables writhe around behind it like tentacles.

Luminark? One of those, is the one that you just plugged into your forehead. It's still connected and it doesn't want to let go.

What do you two do?

This is why technology is a bad idea. Without sufficient grasp of fundamental arcane principles any piece of sufficiently advanced technology begins glowing red and attempting to exterminate all organic life. Engineers just consistently blunder into designs perfectly suited for possession by demonic forces. It is all their fault, and not at all his. He is a wizard, wise and restrained, and knows the appropriate rituals of countermagic.

"ONE ZERO! ZERO ZERO ONE ONE! ONE ZERO ONE ZERO ONE!" yells Luminark, beating the crap out of it with a fold-up chair. His horn glows as he pours magic down the tube, trying to wrench the knowledge he was originally after out by force.

Seize By Force: 12
- Take Definite Hold
- Take little harm
- Impress, dismay, terrify

[Balmas]

"Bastard," I spit, smoke wisping off my horn. "Couldn't just sit still, couldn't just let me knock you out, had to make me kill you like the stupid child that you are." It's the work of a moment to get the Hellhound's claws off it; grab one claw, use it to sever the other hand, and use the recently liberated hand to cut off the other. I stow them away, and walk to find an intercom.

"Attention. Full Stop, please report to workshop 28B." Full Stop is perhaps a bit slow to react, if memory serves. Still, she's the only person I'd trust to run the freezers; when it comes to both quartermastery and cryostasis, you want a steady hand.

[BlasTech]

Oh heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeck no. No tentaclogical monstrosity steals The Scrapscallion's girl and gets away with it.

With a flip and a flourish he drew his revolver. "Stand back, everypony," he growled around the mouthpiece. "I'm 'bout to give some technical support." He charged through a rain of chemicals into a storm of flailing wires, firing at anything with a screen. All the while his eyes were on the nurse. No shot or cable so much as ruffled her mane, he made sure of it.

[Rolling Seize By Force to rescue the nurse. Roll: 1 + 1 - 1 = 1, choosing It’s safe, secure, and undamaged in the fighting. Dealing 2-harm with a revolver, The Scrapscallion has 2-armor from Daredevil and Impossible Reflexes.]

The pile of parts shudders under your fire, which manages to miss the nurse. Unfortunately, it takes more to put down an ambulatory pile of equipment than a few shots, even though you're definitely chipping away at parts of its body.

Twin tendrils of cabling smack into you, sending you stumbling.

[Take 1 harm]

The nurse is still well within the grip of the monster. And she starts screaming as it pulls her up and away from you.

"Watch where you're shooting, you moron!"

Okay, maybe she's not too grateful that you're still aiming in her general direction. Even though you managed to miss her.


Ponyfeathers.

Well, beaten up by a cliche and soaked in soggy stinking garbage with a corpse between her teeth Milliway was not in the mood to play games. The hatch opened on command and with a sloppy flop Power Overwhelming emerged through the hatch quickly followed by Milliway herself, only slightly less soggy. She sat down to catch her breath, hamming up her exhaustion and sorry state a bit.

Let them come.

So, you're sitting in a hallway. Trash compactor behind you, dead body next to you, and a bunch of unknown ponies approaching.

Sounds like a charged scene. Would you like to read a sitch?


This is why technology is a bad idea. Without sufficient grasp of fundamental arcane principles any piece of sufficiently advanced technology begins glowing red and attempting to exterminate all organic life. Engineers just consistently blunder into designs perfectly suited for possession by demonic forces. It is all their fault, and not at all his. He is a wizard, wise and restrained, and knows the appropriate rituals of countermagic.

"ONE ZERO! ZERO ZERO ONE ONE! ONE ZERO ONE ZERO ONE!" yells Luminark, beating the crap out of it with a fold-up chair. His horn glows as he pours magic down the tube, trying to wrench the knowledge he was originally after out by force.

Seize By Force: 12
- Take Definite Hold
- Take little harm
- Impress, dismay, terrify

The scrap golem cries out in a voice like toneless dirge or a horn from a great depth. In that moment, you get the feeling that it had started its life as just a simple antivirus programme, until mad science and dark magic scaled it all the way up.

You wrench the secrets from its databanks even as you're smashing it over the head. Its tendrils flail at you, but with all the damage you're inflicting, they only deal you the barest of glancing blows. In the end, you manage to get a whole raft of interesting tidbits from its memory banks. The kind of things that would scorch a pony's face red with embarrassment or bleach it white with fear.

Tell me, what's the most embarrassing secret you have? Or the most embarrassing thing you've done?


"Bastard," I spit, smoke wisping off my horn. "Couldn't just sit still, couldn't just let me knock you out, had to make me kill you like the stupid child that you are." It's the work of a moment to get the Hellhound's claws off it; grab one claw, use it to sever the other hand, and use the recently liberated hand to cut off the other. I stow them away, and walk to find an intercom.

"Attention. Full Stop, please report to workshop 28B." Full Stop is perhaps a bit slow to react, if memory serves. Still, she's the only person I'd trust to run the freezers; when it comes to both quartermastery and cryostasis, you want a steady hand.

Full Stop is definitely on station when you get to the workshop, and she takes the deathclaw off your hooves with nary a blink. It's carcass is locked away in moments, which leaves you free to handle whatever next occupies your mind.

At that point, the sound of the infirmary's Hazmat alarms reach where you're standing.

[Thanqol]

The scrap golem cries out in a voice like toneless dirge or a horn from a great depth. In that moment, you get the feeling that it had started its life as just a simple antivirus programme, until mad science and dark magic scaled it all the way up.

You wrench the secrets from its databanks even as you're smashing it over the head. Its tendrils flail at you, but with all the damage you're inflicting, they only deal you the barest of glancing blows. In the end, you manage to get a whole raft of interesting tidbits from its memory banks. The kind of things that would scorch a pony's face red with embarrassment or bleach it white with fear.

Tell me, what's the most embarrassing secret you have? Or the most embarrassing thing you've done?

Luminark once gave the Archmage a mixtape (http://nedroid.com/2011/01/memories-of-youth/)for Hearts and Hooves Day when young. Some of the songs he sung himself. She absent-mindedly catalogued it on the shelves without listening to it. He's still mortified by the thought. It's still there, ominously waiting.

Once he has the data, Luminark runs away like a total coward.

[Elanorin]

So, you're sitting in a hallway. Trash compactor behind you, dead body next to you, and a bunch of unknown ponies approaching.

Sounds like a charged scene. Would you like to read a sitch?


That...

Oh, Princesses, is that smell me?

...sounds like a good idea.

[Rolling to Read A Sitch: 6+2+0=8 Where's my best escape route?]

[TheAmishPirate]

The pile of parts shudders under your fire, which manages to miss the nurse. Unfortunately, it takes more to put down an ambulatory pile of equipment than a few shots, even though you're definitely chipping away at parts of its body.

Twin tendrils of cabling smack into you, sending you stumbling.

[Take 1 harm]

The nurse is still well within the grip of the monster. And she starts screaming as it pulls her up and away from you.

"Watch where you're shooting, you moron!"

Okay, maybe she's not too grateful that you're still aiming in her general direction. Even though you managed to miss her.

The cables came slamming down on the Scrapscallion, but please. He'd spent his life dodging bullets, explosions, and responsibility. Tentacle monsters had nothing on him.

[2-armor negates the harm, 0-harm taken.]

Ungrateful nurses? Those kinda got on his nerves. "More like, you watch where I'm shooting, babe!" He shouted, smoothing back his mane. Seriously, mare had the best seats in the house and all she could think to do was nag at him. That sort of stress cannot be healthy.

He jumped away from an explosion of sparks, lined up a shot on the wires holding her tight, and squeezed the trigger.

[Rolling another round of Seize By Force. [roll0] Choosing she's safe and undamaged in the fighting, and I take definite and undeniable control of her.]

With the last cable is shot off, the Scrapscallion will move to catch the falling nurse on his back. With a sweet sliding catch move if he can swing it.

[Balmas]

Normally, I'd ignore screams coming from medical. Just means some horrifying abomination of SCIENCE! has developed sentience and turned against its masters. Nothing out of the ordinary.

However, when half of my senior leadership is there, and are already hurt, I can't afford to leave them alone. Lightning's out of the question. Luckily, I have a shiny new pair of toys to play with.

What do I see when I come in? If I know how, I'm going to see how many ponies I can surround with my shield before wading in to take care of the problem.

[BlasTech]

Luminark once gave the Archmage a mixtape (http://nedroid.com/2011/01/memories-of-youth/)for Hearts and Hooves Day when young. Some of the songs he sung himself. She absent-mindedly catalogued it on the shelves without listening to it. He's still mortified by the thought. It's still there, ominously waiting.

Once he has the data, Luminark runs away like a total coward.

The creature cries out as it feels the data being ripped form it. In its dismay, you're able to unhook yourself from it and bolt towards the exits.

Cables slap at you, trying to grab your legs and trip you up.

[AUF to get clear]


That...

Oh, Princesses, is that smell me?

...sounds like a good idea.

[Rolling to Read A Sitch: 6+2+0=8 Where's my best escape route?]

Straight through. You'll need some kind of distraction though, preferably something that'll blind or disorientate them.

There's a couple of possibilities, be it shorting out the corridor lights, or rigging up something with your cybernetic leg.

What will you try to do?


The cables came slamming down on the Scrapscallion, but please. He'd spent his life dodging bullets, explosions, and responsibility. Tentacle monsters had nothing on him.

[2-armor negates the harm, 0-harm taken.]

Ungrateful nurses? Those kinda got on his nerves. "More like, you watch where I'm shooting, babe!" He shouted, smoothing back his mane. Seriously, mare had the best seats in the house and all she could think to do was nag at him. That sort of stress cannot be healthy.

He jumped away from an explosion of sparks, lined up a shot on the wires holding her tight, and squeezed the trigger.

[Rolling another round of Seize By Force. [roll0] Choosing she's safe and undamaged in the fighting, and I take definite and undeniable control of her.]

With the last cable is shot off, the Scrapscallion will move to catch the falling nurse on his back. With a sweet sliding catch move if he can swing it.

Hold your horses, pony. You've still got to roll your harm move. Here, I'll do it for you.

[roll0]

[Let's go with "lose your footing"]

The tentacles smack into you solidly, knocking you over one of the gurneys and putting a somewhat-comical halt to your attempted heroics.


Normally, I'd ignore screams coming from medical. Just means some horrifying abomination of SCIENCE! has developed sentience and turned against its masters. Nothing out of the ordinary.

However, when half of my senior leadership is there, and are already hurt, I can't afford to leave them alone. Lightning's out of the question. Luckily, I have a shiny new pair of toys to play with.

What do I see when I come in? If I know how, I'm going to see how many ponies I can surround with my shield before wading in to take care of the problem.

Well, when you get to medical, the hallways are clogged with ponies: ones on beds, doctors trying desperately to tend to their injuries, nurses trying to wheel out a few more patients from the danger zone. The hazmat alarms are cutting off automatically, and the water coating the ground shows that they've done their job. It looks as if nothing else needs to be don--

*GWAAARRRRROOOOOOOOOONNNnnnnn*

Or not.

Inside the medibay, you see what looks like a minotaur-sized pile of machinery, electronics and other odds and ends. Magic crackles amongst it, clearly giving it motion, whilst its cables try desperately to grab on to Luminark. The unicorn appears to be trying to escape the metal monster. The only other ponies in immediate danger are an angry nurse, who is both bound by tentacles and being shot at, and the Scrapscallion, who is doing the shooting. You walk in just as the earth pony is sent tumbling into medical equipment. With him down, the monster promptly ignores him in favour of Luminark.

[For any further insights, you'll have to read a sitch]

[Elanorin]

Straight through. You'll need some kind of distraction though, preferably something that'll blind or disorientate them.

There's a couple of possibilities, be it shorting out the corridor lights, or rigging up something with your cybernetic leg.

What will you try to do?


Is that an access panel for the auxillary heat exhaust system?

Watch this.

Milliway shoved her bionic hoof through the thin metal panel, sending sparks flying, twitching at the current shooting up her leg. With a twitch, shove, snag and yank, the regulation valve should be overridden, blasting plumes of thick hot steam in to the passageway from all the vents.

How about that?

So what if it made the passage unbearably hot and humid, it wasn't as if she could smell any worse.

[Thanqol]

The creature cries out as it feels the data being ripped form it. In its dismay, you're able to unhook yourself from it and bolt towards the exits.

Cables slap at you, trying to grab your legs and trip you up.

[AUF to get clear]

7! Luminark is entirely average in his cowardly flight capacity.

[Balmas]

You know, reading a situation right now looks like a good way to get ponies killed through inaction. And that's not just because my beloved is in danger. I immediately throw myself into the fray like an amazon warrior, hellhound claws flashing to do the most damage I can.

[roll0] Seize By Force. Inflict Terrible Harm. Hellhound claws are probably something like 3-harm, hand, AP, right?

[TheAmishPirate]

Hold your horses, pony. You've still got to roll your harm move. Here, I'll do it for you.

[roll0]

[Let's go with "lose your footing"]

The tentacles smack into you solidly, knocking you over one of the gurneys and putting a somewhat-comical halt to your attempted heroics.

So. Instead of witnessing a daring rescue, the nurse watched him get sideswiped like a chump. Where the Scrapscallion ought to have hugged her close, he instead embraced a gurney. A shower of admiration and kisses replaced with tongue depressors and shame. Surely this was the Scrapscallion's darkest hour, his lowest moment, his greatest failure.

Or was it?

Was it?

Waaaaaaaaaaaaas it?

Maybe this was exactly where he wanted to be all along.

The pile shifted. One box went atop the gurney. Then another. And another. As the pile of pointy and/or heavy medical supplies grew, they transformed the humble gurney into a vehicle of higher purpose. A more destructive purpose. And yet, still a life-saving purpose. Like, we're talking layers and layers of purpose here. All of them pointed at the becabled jerkwad across the room.

The Scrapscallion mounted his makeshift battering ram, backed up to the wall, then kicked off with all his might. Faster, faster, faster he surged through the maelstrom of cables, taking deadly aim at its center.

[Alright, taking this one step at a time to avoid unnecessary rolls. The Scrapscallion is loading up the gurney and using it as a battering ram. Do I need an AUF for this? Or should I go ahead and Seize by Force? If so, do I use the old result?]

[BlasTech]

So. Instead of witnessing a daring rescue, the nurse watched him get sideswiped like a chump. Where the Scrapscallion ought to have hugged her close, he instead embraced a gurney. A shower of admiration and kisses replaced with tongue depressors and shame. Surely this was the Scrapscallion's darkest hour, his lowest moment, his greatest failure.

Or was it?

Was it?

Waaaaaaaaaaaaas it?

Maybe this was exactly where he wanted to be all along.

The pile shifted. One box went atop the gurney. Then another. And another. As the pile of pointy and/or heavy medical supplies grew, they transformed the humble gurney into a vehicle of higher purpose. A more destructive purpose. And yet, still a life-saving purpose. Like, we're talking layers and layers of purpose here. All of them pointed at the becabled jerkwad across the room.

The Scrapscallion mounted his makeshift battering ram, backed up to the wall, then kicked off with all his might. Faster, faster, faster he surged through the maelstrom of cables, taking deadly aim at its center.

[Alright, taking this one step at a time to avoid unnecessary rolls. The Scrapscallion is loading up the gurney and using it as a battering ram. Do I need an AUF for this? Or should I go ahead and Seize by Force? If so, do I use the old result?]

[Sounds like you're assisting Starlight with her SBF. Go ahead and roll +Hx to assist]


You know, reading a situation right now looks like a good way to get ponies killed through inaction. And that's not just because my beloved is in danger. I immediately throw myself into the fray like an amazon warrior, hellhound claws flashing to do the most damage I can.

[roll0] Seize By Force. Inflict Terrible Harm. Hellhound claws are probably something like 3-harm, hand, AP, right?

[SBF is all well and good, but you need to be seizing something. Be it the room, the high ground, the advantage, the nurse or the initiative. What are you going for here?]


7! Luminark is entirely average in his cowardly flight capacity.

Tentacles snap around your neck as you dive for the exit. They don't get a great grip, but one of them snakes around your possession gem. You can feel magic flowing from it, like fingers trying to grasp at your mind. Desperately trying to pull something back.

You've got a firm mental hold on the blackmail information, that's not going anywhere. But there's a good chance some other tidbit of your knowledge may be left behind if you don't stop to fight off the tentacles.

What do you do?


Is that an access panel for the auxillary heat exhaust system?

Watch this.

Milliway shoved her bionic hoof through the thin metal panel, sending sparks flying, twitching at the current shooting up her leg. With a twitch, shove, snag and yank, the regulation valve should be overridden, blasting plumes of thick hot steam in to the passageway from all the vents.

How about that?

So what if it made the passage unbearably hot and humid, it wasn't as if she could smell any worse.

Steam blasts from the vents, flooding the passageway and making the other ponies there yell in surprise. It's hot, its humid, and there's every chance you might bump into one of them as you try to sneak past. The good news is that if you pull it off, they won't be able to see or smell your escape.

[Roll AUF to get past. +1 bonus from having followed the results of your Read a Sitch move]

[Thanqol]

Tentacles snap around your neck as you dive for the exit. They don't get a great grip, but one of them snakes around your possession gem. You can feel magic flowing from it, like fingers trying to grasp at your mind. Desperately trying to pull something back.

You've got a firm mental hold on the blackmail information, that's not going anywhere. But there's a good chance some other tidbit of your knowledge may be left behind if you don't stop to fight off the tentacles.

What do you do?

Joke's on you, robot! Everything valuable Luminark knows is stored in the library! He keeps running.

[Elanorin]

Steam blasts from the vents, flooding the passageway and making the other ponies there yell in surprise. It's hot, its humid, and there's every chance you might bump into one of them as you try to sneak past. The good news is that if you pull it off, they won't be able to see or smell your escape.

[Roll AUF to get past. +1 bonus from having followed the results of your Read a Sitch move]

Sweat (and other assorted smelly fluids) dripping, dragging a dead horse, Milliway navigated through the steam.

[Rolling AUF to get past: 1+5+1+1=8]

[TheAmishPirate]

[Sounds like you're assisting Starlight with her SBF. Go ahead and roll +Hx to assist]

I mean.

It's not every day a pony gets upstaged by an Amarezonian Princess dual-wielding a pair of freshly-severed Deathclaw claws. The Scrapscallion can live with this.

[Rolling to give mad assistance: 6 + 1 + 1 = 8, bumping Starlight's roll to a 10]

[BlasTech]

Is it valid to say that she's trying to seize its life? She's just trying to kill it quickly so that it can't hurt anyone else.

Oh, and since I have an extra option that I forgot about... Take little damage.



Well, you're more than well equipped to make mincemeat of this robot. Even if you weren't using your blades, this thing is just an animate pile of random metal and experiments - your magic or hooves could damage it. In fact, it's already leaking weird fluids from where The Scrapscallion blasted it earlier.

Weird fluids though.

I mean, it's whole body is basically the medical bay's collective experimental junk pile. Who knows what'll happen if you smash it to bits? That said, if you want to take it down that badly, then go ahead.


Joke's on you, robot! Everything valuable Luminark knows is stored in the library! He keeps running.

The tentacle resists for a moment before you slip out of its grasp.

It does ... something. But it's clearly not important right now.

What is important, is something you notice as you're diving through the exit. In fact, your whole mind twangs as you see it. The Administrator, walking into the room with a pair of Organo Type-1 Diamante Canis Pediloculars held in her magic. That's new ... that's something that didn't come from inside Our Bunker.

Them, and the body they came from, might be a solid addition to your Horde. At least, if that twang was anything to go by, the Archmage has noticed them and paid attention to them.


Sweat (and other assorted smelly fluids) dripping, dragging a dead horse, Milliway navigated through the steam.

[Rolling AUF to get past: 1+5+1+1=8]

The steam vents go on for a few seconds before their automatic cutoffs kick in. The corridor is filled with steam, but it won't last for long as the air systems kick into overdrive and start to clear things up.

Despite this, you're most of the way through the corridor before the probabilities catch up to you and you bump into one of the ponies.

"Wuh? Who's that?" he calls, as his hooves reach out in your direction.

Unless you are able to bound right past him (something that's not possible while dragging a body), he'll probably get close enough to see your face, or get a feel of your bionic hoof. You can always backtrack, but at the rate the steam is clearing you'll probably get spotted in that time.

What do you do?


I mean.

It's not [I]every day a pony gets upstaged by an Amarezonian Princess dual-wielding a pair of freshly-severed Deathclaw claws. The Scrapscallion can live with this.

[Rolling to give mad assistance: 6 + 1 + 1 = 8, bumping Starlight's roll to a 10]

[Gonna hold on this till Starlight decides if she's going through with it or not]

[Thanqol]

The tentacle resists for a moment before you slip out of its grasp.

It does ... something. But it's clearly not important right now.

What is important, is something you notice as you're diving through the exit. In fact, your whole mind twangs as you see it. The Administrator, walking into the room with a pair of Organo Type-1 Diamante Canis Pediloculars held in her magic. That's new ... that's something that didn't come from inside Our Bunker.

Them, and the body they came from, might be a solid addition to your Horde. At least, if that twang was anything to go by, the Archmage has noticed them and paid attention to them.

No time like the present

While the Administrator is distracted with the robot monster Luminark tries to magically blunt-force snatch the paws out of her grip and continue escape before anypony can react. Seize By Force, rolled a 2

[Elanorin]

The steam vents go on for a few seconds before their automatic cutoffs kick in. The corridor is filled with steam, but it won't last for long as the air systems kick into overdrive and start to clear things up.

Despite this, you're most of the way through the corridor before the probabilities catch up to you and you bump into one of the ponies.

"Wuh? Who's that?" he calls, as his hooves reach out in your direction.

Unless you are able to bound right past him (something that's not possible while dragging a body), he'll probably get close enough to see your face, or get a feel of your bionic hoof. You can always backtrack, but at the rate the steam is clearing you'll probably get spotted in that time.

What do you do?

Have you ever seen a pony who's just Had It with absolutely everything around her? Because that's pretty much where Milliway is right now. This has to be her worst day ever, and it just won't stop! Sure, she could ditch the corpse here, sneak past and be done. Or she could try to talk her way out of it and everyone could be on their way. But instead of considering either of those sensible options, she snaps. She grabs Power's back hooves, lifts her up and swings her in a mighty arch like a huge dead pony-shaped bat to smack straight in to the pony she felt herself bump in to in the steam. The aim being to knock them out of the way long enough to get the hell out before the steam cleared or the little stars stop circling around their heads.

[Rolling to Seize My Escape By Force: 5+3+1=9; take definite hold, and suffer little harm]

[Balmas]

Well, you're more than well equipped to make mincemeat of this robot. Even if you weren't using your blades, this thing is just an animate pile of random metal and experiments - your magic or hooves could damage it. In fact, it's already leaking weird fluids from where The Scrapscallion blasted it earlier.

Weird fluids though.

I mean, it's whole body is basically the medical bay's collective experimental junk pile. Who knows what'll happen if you smash it to bits? That said, if you want to take it down that badly, then go ahead.

In that case, I'm going to try to wrestle it back to the corner, away from people before slicing it to ribbons. Yes, there may be some unhappy techs getting at me, but so far as nobody dies as a result, I'll be happy.


[I]No time like the present

While the Administrator is distracted with the robot monster Luminark tries to magically blunt-force snatch the paws out of her grip and continue escape before anypony can react. Seize By Force, rolled a 2

A voice emerges from the cuisinart. "You and I are going to have WORDS, boy." Possibly over Bioscience's newest attempt at wine.

[BlasTech]

Have you ever seen a pony who's just Had It with absolutely everything around her? Because that's pretty much where Milliway is right now. This has to be her worst day ever, and it just won't stop! Sure, she could ditch the corpse here, sneak past and be done. Or she could try to talk her way out of it and everyone could be on their way. But instead of considering either of those sensible options, she snaps. She grabs Power's back hooves, lifts her up and swings her in a mighty arch like a huge dead pony-shaped bat to smack straight in to the pony she felt herself bump in to in the steam. The aim being to knock them out of the way long enough to get the hell out before the steam cleared or the little stars stop circling around their heads.

[Rolling to Seize My Escape By Force: 5+3+1=9; take definite hold, and suffer little harm]

There's something cathartic about smashing ponies about the head when you've had a tough day. The ponies in the mist start to yell, but you're in the middle of them and Power Overwhelming turns out to be just as potent as her name suggests.

They do eventually fight back though. Somepony smashes you in the ribs with something solid, whilst another one takes a swing at you with their hooves. You're fighting a small gang here, but thankfully nopony pulls a gun on you while you get through.

[Take 1 Harm: modified by size to 2 and by "take little harm" back down to 1]

After a few moments, you're past them. But they're almost all still up and awake, not to mention angry. And the mist is about to finish clearing.

What do you do?


No time like the present

While the Administrator is distracted with the robot monster Luminark tries to magically blunt-force snatch the paws out of her grip and continue escape before anypony can react. Seize By Force, rolled a 2

Well, this is definitely one of those plans where the appropriate "worst" seems to be the same as the "best".

Glimglam, and Scraps while we're at it, you both see Luminark's magic wrench your diamond dog claws away from you and float them over to him by the door.

He then bolts.


In that case, I'm going to try to wrestle it back to the corner, away from people before slicing it to ribbons. Yes, there may be some unhappy techs getting at me, but so far as nobody dies as a result, I'll be happy.

Well, left with magic only, you're still pretty potent. And with the help of a well timed cart of medical supplies (which comes barrelling into the monster just as it takes advantage of you yelling at Luminark to regain its balance), you've got it beaten back into the corner.

The tentacles still slap at you, but they'll probably just bounce off your shield.

[Take 1 harm]

Mournfully, it cries out and curls back into itself with each step into the corner. It's getting smaller and smaller every moment.

What do you do?

[Thanqol]

Well, this is definitely one of those plans where the appropriate "worst" seems to be the same as the "best".

Glimglam, and Scraps while we're at it, you both see Luminark's magic wrench your diamond dog claws away from you and float them over to him by the door.

He then bolts.

So Luminark understands the practical ramifications of his situation. He doesn't have enough food to hide out in the library until Starlight dies of old age. He doesn't have the nasal fortitude to hide out in Milliway's... domicile. Hiding does not seem ideal overall.

Meanwhile. The Archmage is curious about the outside. The Administrator does not administratorize the outside. The garbage horse seems to have bathed. Time to commit to the 'acquisition tour' plan.

He reaches the library. Adjusts his headdress, brushes some dirt down off his knees, makes sure he looks presentable. Then he quickly nips inside to deposit these disgusting dog hands and fetch Fluffy. It's adventure time.

[Hunger to 3]

[TheAmishPirate]

No time like the present

While the Administrator is distracted with the robot monster Luminark tries to magically blunt-force snatch the paws out of her grip and continue escape before anypony can react. Seize By Force, rolled a 2


Well, this is definitely one of those plans where the appropriate "worst" seems to be the same as the "best".

Glimglam, and Scraps while we're at it, you both see Luminark's magic wrench your diamond dog claws away from you and float them over to him by the door.

He then bolts.



Well, left with magic only, you're still pretty potent. And with the help of a well timed cart of medical supplies (which comes barrelling into the monster just as it takes advantage of you yelling at Luminark to regain its balance), you've got it beaten back into the corner.

The tentacles still slap at you, but they'll probably just bounce off your shield.

[Take 1 harm]

Mournfully, it cries out and curls back into itself with each step into the corner. It's getting smaller and smaller every moment.

What do you do?

"Oh man, jerk move, Narky!" The Scrapscallion laughed, mid-backflip off his crashing gurney.

So, what's the status of the nurse? The Scrapscallion would love nothing more than to give chase, but not when there's a pretty lady in need of his services.

[BlasTech]

"Oh man, jerk move, Narky!" The Scrapscallion laughed, mid-backflip off his crashing gurney.

So, what's the status of the nurse? The Scrapscallion would love nothing more than to give chase, but not when there's a pretty lady in need of his services.

She's still in the monster's grasp, being held off to the side as Starlight backs it into the corner.

She still looks a bit annoyed - both at her current situation and at you shooting at her, but otherwise doesn't seem to have been hurt.

[Elanorin]

There's something cathartic about smashing ponies about the head when you've had a tough day. The ponies in the mist start to yell, but you're in the middle of them and Power Overwhelming turns out to be just as potent as her name suggests.

They do eventually fight back though. Somepony smashes you in the ribs with something solid, whilst another one takes a swing at you with their hooves. You're fighting a small gang here, but thankfully nopony pulls a gun on you while you get through.

[Take 1 Harm: modified by size to 2 and by "take little harm" back down to 1]

After a few moments, you're past them. But they're almost all still up and awake, not to mention angry. And the mist is about to finish clearing.

What do you do?

There's nothing for it, she really wanted Power's dead corpse, but not at the cost of getting caught by a friendship patrol. Not on her life.

Drop the dead horse.

Milliway reluctantly ditched Power Overwhelming unceremoniously right there and then and then galloped at top speed the hell out of there headed straight home. They'd find Power, of course, but in truth it wasn't her who killed her. So that ought work out absolutely fine.

[Balmas]

Well, left with magic only, you're still pretty potent. And with the help of a well timed cart of medical supplies (which comes barrelling into the monster just as it takes advantage of you yelling at Luminark to regain its balance), you've got it beaten back into the corner.

The tentacles still slap at you, but they'll probably just bounce off your shield.

[Take 1 harm]

Mournfully, it cries out and curls back into itself with each step into the corner. It's getting smaller and smaller every moment.

What do you do?

I seethe. "Luminark!" Then the rat bastard is gone, and I'm left with the business at hand. "Look," I growl, and walk forward until the shield is pressing the monster into the corner. "I can appreciate that you're an abomination of science, and you've only just come to life. For that reason, I'm going to give you this one chance to surrender, come peaceully, and let my little pony there go. Otherwise, I'm going to stomp on you until the only thing left of you is some sparking wires.

[Go Aggro: Surrender, or die. [roll0]]

[TheAmishPirate]

She's still in the monster's grasp, being held off to the side as Starlight backs it into the corner.

She still looks a bit annoyed - both at her current situation and at you shooting at her, but otherwise doesn't seem to have been hurt.


I seethe. "Luminark!" Then the rat bastard is gone, and I'm left with the business at hand. "Look," I growl, and walk forward until the shield is pressing the monster into the corner. "I can appreciate that you're an abomination of science, and you've only just come to life. For that reason, I'm going to give you this one chance to surrender, come peaceully, and let my little pony there go. Otherwise, I'm going to stomp on you until the only thing left of you is some sparking wires."

[Go Aggro: Surrender, or die. [roll0]]

The Scrapscallion coolly reloaded his revolver, coaxing out some nice mechanical clicks to punctuate the Princess' threat.

[Holding steady, gonna wait and see what the beastie does.]

[BlasTech]

I seethe. "Luminark!" Then the rat bastard is gone, and I'm left with the business at hand. "Look," I growl, and walk forward until the shield is pressing the monster into the corner. "I can appreciate that you're an abomination of science, and you've only just come to life. For that reason, I'm going to give you this one chance to surrender, come peaceully, and let my little pony there go. Otherwise, I'm going to stomp on you until the only thing left of you is some sparking wires.

[Go Aggro: Surrender, or die. [roll0]]

The mechanical abomination lets out another of the mournful electronic screams before shrinking further into the corner. Its tentacles disconnect as it gets smaller, dropping the nurse back to her hooves, while all the different bits and pieces that had made up its body begin to drop to the ground.

Eventually, it shrinks down to a single PDA - still crackling with yellow electricity.

It's surrendered, now what do you do?


There's nothing for it, she really wanted Power's dead corpse, but not at the cost of getting caught by a friendship patrol. Not on her life.

Drop the dead horse.

Milliway reluctantly ditched Power Overwhelming unceremoniously right there and then and then galloped at top speed the hell out of there headed straight home. They'd find Power, of course, but in truth it wasn't her who killed her. So that ought work out absolutely fine.

Behind you, you can hear the ponies shout as they discover Power's body. With the confusion though, you're able to slip away.

Where do you go?

(Will wrap this scene up after the above is resolved)

[TheAmishPirate]

The mechanical abomination lets out another of the mournful electronic screams before shrinking further into the corner. Its tentacles disconnect as it gets smaller, dropping the nurse back to her hooves, while all the different bits and pieces that had made up its body begin to drop to the ground.

Eventually, it shrinks down to a single PDA - still crackling with yellow electricity.

It's surrendered, now what do you do?

Put yourself in the nurse's shoes for a moment. You've had yourself a pretty hard time, haven't you? Bound in cold, rough cables, zapped by thoughtless electricity, tossed around like a rag doll, and - worst of all - you missed a dazzling display of first-rate heroics due to your stupid attitude problem.

But then. The cables part. You fall, not onto the unforgiving floor, but into the waiting grasp of a handsome stranger. He holds you in an embrace as warm as it is ruggedly muscular, and you know - in your heart of hearts - that you should not have yelled at him, that was real dumb. If only there was some way you could make out with it up to him! And then, he flashes you a smile. "What's a stallion gotta do to get an appointment around here?" That voice! That voice could melt butter at fifty paces. What chance did your heart have? You think maybe a little TLC is the perfect way to thank your brave, dashing rescuer...

[Rolling to Seduce the nurse into giving the Scrapscallion medical attention: 1 + 1 + 1 = whoops 3.]

Y'know. At least that's how the Scrapscallion thinks she'll see things.

[Balmas]

The mechanical abomination lets out another of the mournful electronic screams before shrinking further into the corner. Its tentacles disconnect as it gets smaller, dropping the nurse back to her hooves, while all the different bits and pieces that had made up its body begin to drop to the ground.

Eventually, it shrinks down to a single PDA - still crackling with yellow electricity.

It's surrendered, now what do you do?

I grab the PDA in my magic, and toss it towards the nearest doctor-looking pony. "Make sure this gets back to whoever's responsible. And make sure that they know that if I have to protect my little ponies from their toy again, I'll see them as being directly responsible for any harm that results."

Then I'm off to gather as many troops as I can. I have a traitor to take care of.

[BlasTech]

Put yourself in the nurse's shoes for a moment. You've had yourself a pretty hard time, haven't you? Bound in cold, rough cables, zapped by thoughtless electricity, tossed around like a rag doll, and - worst of all - you missed a dazzling display of first-rate heroics due to your stupid attitude problem.

But then. The cables part. You fall, not onto the unforgiving floor, but into the waiting grasp of a handsome stranger. He holds you in an embrace as warm as it is ruggedly muscular, and you know - in your heart of hearts - that you should not have yelled at him, that was real dumb. If only there was some way you could make out with it up to him! And then, he flashes you a smile. "What's a stallion gotta do to get an appointment around here?" That voice! That voice could melt butter at fifty paces. What chance did your heart have? You think maybe a little TLC is the perfect way to thank your brave, dashing rescuer...

[Rolling to Seduce the nurse into giving the Scrapscallion medical attention: 1 + 1 + 1 = whoops 3.]

Y'know. At least that's how the Scrapscallion thinks she'll see things.

Aww, look. It's true love. Surely, wedding bells will be in your immediate future.

Actually, the only bells you end up hearing are the ones in your head after she slugs you one. By the time you come around, the nurse is long gone. Did you recognise her, or catch her name?

In either case, the doctors will need to be persuaded the old fashioned way (with bits). Given the premium on services in the immediate future, it'll be 1 barter per segment healed. This also goes for anyone else who needs medical attention at the moment.


I grab the PDA in my magic, and toss it towards the nearest doctor-looking pony. "Make sure this gets back to whoever's responsible. And make sure that they know that if I have to protect my little ponies from their toy again, I'll see them as being directly responsible for any harm that results."

Then I'm off to gather as many troops as I can. I have a traitor to take care of.

Doc Savage grabs it out of the air, looking sheepish.

"Uh, yes ma'am. It's uh, actually, my experimental antivirus software. I'll ..." he cuts off at the look from your face.

"I'llputitbackinmylabandohlookatthetimeI'dbestbegoi ngnow!" he stammers, before bolting.

[Session End.]

The time winds forward a few days. As ponies prep for the next big expedition into the Wasteland.

What are you all doing in the intervening time? Also, come departure day, what are you all planning on doing?

[TheAmishPirate]

Aww, look. It's true love. Surely, wedding bells will be in your immediate future.

Actually, the only bells you end up hearing are the ones in your head after she slugs you one. By the time you come around, the nurse is long gone. Did you recognise her, or catch her name?

Come to think of it, yeah! The Scrapscallion would recognize that slap anywhere. In all the confusion, he didn't realize he was trying to rescue Tender Care, the very same nurse he'd had a bit of a fling with some months back. It was great to know that his taste in mares was as good as ever. Just like her slapping hoof.


In either case, the doctors will need to be persuaded the old fashioned way (with bits). Given the premium on services in the immediate future, it'll be 1 barter per segment healed. This also goes for anyone else who needs medical attention at the moment.

Well, considering that he's one paper cut away from bleeding out, the Scrapscallion will pony up for some treatment. Given that he's not slated to leave for another few days, he has time to let his body do some healing, instead of coughing up all his earthly possessions to the docs.

[Spending 1 Barter to heal 1 Harm. If he rests for the next few days, how much more Harm will he heal on his own?]


The time winds forward a few days. As ponies prep for the next big expedition into the Wasteland.

What are you all doing in the intervening time? Also, come departure day, what are you all planning on doing?

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah. Settle down there, we got a few little details to iron out first.

See, the Scrapscallion? The Scrapscallion rides alone. The Scrapscallion doesn't need some namby-pamby slowpokes cramping his style by dying horribly. Or barfing in his cargo hold. Just tell him what you need from the generators, and he'll go get your precious data. Alright? Alright.

In the days between now and then, the Scrapscallion's going to be resting and recovering. He's got a long drive ahead of him, and he needs to make sure all his insides don't end up on the outside. He's got himself a hammock in his corner of the garage, and he plans on getting some quality naptime. If he gets bored, he can always keep himself entertained by shuffling around some of the Environmental Science Division's experiments when they aren't looking. And swiping their office supplies. You would not believe the paperclip hoard he's got stashed away.

The day he's supposed to leave though? He finds himself in a familiar spot. A place he visits often, before going for a drive. A lovely patch of concrete, seventeen and a half paces from the end of a hallway, in-between cracks #345 and #346. When he scuffs his front left hoof, it makes a slightly different sound than the other three. The musty air tickles his nose, but never enough to make him sneeze, thank the stars. On average, he can stand here for, oh, maybe about fifteen minutes or so before hearing somepony else approaching, in which case he has exactly thirteen seconds to look like he's on his way someplace else.

It's the ideal spot to stand in front of The Crate while deciding if he's going to knock this time. And today, three sharp raps sound on the metal door.

[Elanorin]

Behind you, you can hear the ponies shout as they discover Power's body. With the confusion though, you're able to slip away.

Where do you go?

Home. Top speed. Then shower.



[Session End.]

The time winds forward a few days. As ponies prep for the next big expedition into the Wasteland.

What are you all doing in the intervening time? Also, come departure day, what are you all planning on doing?

The Plan:

Milliway had gone to work on the communications interface for the library as soon as she'd dried off the last of the garbage goop from her mane. In fact, she'd already began mapping it out in her head while washing. Her mind was entirely devoted to this project now and she had not emerged once from her workshop in the past week. She wanted to get everything set up and ready, and she was well pleased by the result too, sure there were some loose wires and a lack of casing, making it look a little like some kind of electronic brain on a plate, but it would do the job. She was sure of it.

So there was some kind of departure, she'd heard mention of it on the wireless while working. It was perfect, the less ponies around, the better. She'd have less in her way as she went about finding that quack Black Liquorice to help her hook this piece of genius engineering to that chandelier. She'd just finish up here, just get that last piece of wiring to hold and then sneak out, track down Black, fast-talk her in to helping her (forged contract of employment from the administrator was ready and waiting), make a bee-line for the creepy library (with any luck Lumibark's off on that glorified scavenger hunt too), get up the air ducts again, reach the chandelier, go to work and get it all set up and tested, send Black on her way with as little knowledge of what's really going on as possible.

Open the link, have it out with the chandelier, get the surveillance agreed and set up and, by the time everyone was back all would be tidied away and she'd have full privilege to Luminark's privacy and nopony would be any the wiser.

With any luck she'd even have spare time to dig up Power's corpse too.

The Reality:



It's the ideal spot to stand in front of The Crate while deciding if he's going to knock this time. And today, three sharp raps sound on the metal door.

Milliway flicked up the welding visor in front of her face and gave a deathglare with cybernetic precision in the direction of the door. That sounded like an Interruption. That, sounded like a distraction.

She hesitated for a good moment before snapping the blowtorch off and then went to tap a few hard taps on one of House's consoles, blowtorch still in hoof. With a fizz and a whirr and a zzat one of the monitors came to life showing a grainy black and white image of a much too familiar pony.

"Scrapstallion." came from a little crackly speaker hanging by the door, looking like a limp bicycle headlight, "I'm in the middle of...uhm... stuff."

[Spending 1-barter on upkeep, healing 1-harm naturally]

[TheAmishPirate]

Milliway flicked up the welding visor in front of her face and gave a deathglare with cybernetic precision in the direction of the door. That sounded like an Interruption. That, sounded like a distraction.

She hesitated for a good moment before snapping the blowtorch off and then went to tap a few hard taps on one of House's consoles, blowtorch still in hoof. With a fizz and a whirr and a zzat one of the monitors came to life showing a grainy black and white image of a much too familiar pony.

"Scrapstallion." came from a little crackly speaker hanging by the door, looking like a limp bicycle headlight, "I'm in the middle of...uhm... stuff."

[Spending 1-barter on upkeep, healing 1-harm naturally]

The speaker crackled to life, and all the words tumbled right out of the Scrapscallion's brain. "Oh. Yeah, I figured you were busy with, your important science...stuff. That's why I, y'know, knocked instead of. Climbing through the door. Or something."

Milliway, through your grainy screen you can notice that the Scrapscallion isn't looking at the speaker. He's not even looking at the camera. If you had to eyeball it - no offense - you could say that he's pointed straight towards your door at a suspicious 13.45 degree angle. Give or take.

"But hey!" He continued on, oblivious. "You're not exploded! That's...that's pretty good, right?"

[Thanqol]

Luminark's plan is essentially to lay low. He spends time lurking around either the deep stacks of the library or the garage, looking up maps and plans of things out in the world that might please the Archmage. He understands that some irrational ponies might hold incomprehensible grudges so he intends to work around other ponies for the foreseeable future.

The plan is to stow away in whatsisname - Trashcolt? - Trashcolt's car when he next leaves the station. Then with his preparation he'll have a list of places to hit up and by the time he comes back there'll be some new crisis and all will be forgotten. Flawless.

[Balmas]

Start of Session rolls: Wealth: [roll0] +2 Barter. The Manufactory is alive and well, I see.

On the day of Scrapscallion's departure, I'm gathering everyone in the base into the atrium for an announcement.

I trot around the podium, gather my notes, and take a deep breath. "I'm sure you've noticed that things in our Bunker have been a bit more tumultuous of late than anypony would like. It is a sad, sad state of affairs. Some of our colleagues have been injured because somepony here does not have friendship in their heart!" I'm pacing, military, straight backed, feet clopping down like bullets. "And I am furious--furious!--that it has escaped my notice long enough to be a problem! In our Bunker, you know that anypony can come to see me, discuss what they think should be done, that our home can be improved. But this pony--nay, this unpony, for no pony could strike at their own in such a manner--did nothing of the sort! They, for reasons known only to them, chose instead to hurt innocent ponies! They have committed the capital crime of disrupting the peace of Our Bunker!

"So now, we need to find them! We need to find where they hide, who they are! And I charge all of you--be wary! Any one of you could be the traitor, so the key is Constant! Vigilance!"

The notepads slam to the podium hard enough to leave a dent. "And if anypony knows anything, I command you to come forward now, and tell me."
[Towering Presence: [roll1]. Who's moving?]

[Elanorin]

The speaker crackled to life, and all the words tumbled right out of the Scrapscallion's brain. "Oh. Yeah, I figured you were busy with, your important science...stuff. That's why I, y'know, knocked instead of. Climbing through the door. Or something."

Milliway, through your grainy screen you can notice that the Scrapscallion isn't looking at the speaker. He's not even looking at the camera. If you had to eyeball it - no offense - you could say that he's pointed straight towards your door at a suspicious 13.45 degree angle. Give or take.

"But hey!" He continued on, oblivious. "You're not exploded! That's...that's pretty good, right?"

Note to self; set up booby traps.

Wait, what?

"E-exploded?" she stammered.

Did he just insinuate that she is some kind of useless idiot who can't so much as weld hubcaps together without setting her tail on fire, because the nerve!

One time. One time! And it's almost entirely grown back anyway, it's not like he'd be able to tell! If he thinks he can just come here and insult and expect to be allowed in and no doubt be given some newfangled upgrade to his better half then he's got another thing coming!

Why was he standing like that?

[TheAmishPirate]

Note to self; set up booby traps.

Wait, what?

"E-exploded?" she stammered.

Did he just insinuate that she is some kind of useless idiot who can't so much as weld hubcaps together without setting her tail on fire, because the nerve!

One time. One time! And it's almost entirely grown back anyway, it's not like he'd be able to tell! If he thinks he can just come here and insult and expect to be allowed in and no doubt be given some newfangled upgrade to his better half then he's got another thing coming!

Why was he standing like that?

The Scrapscallion laughed a totally normal laugh. The type that normal ponies make all the time. That's the laugh he did. "Yeah. Or stabbed, or shot, or shot and stabbed, or on fire - I, I'd probably be able to hear that one from here - or crushed in a horrible lab accident deep underground where nobody'd ever find you so hey! Five for five! Guess that's two of us who've had a good week."

There. Right there. He looked away, shuffled his hooves, and wound up pointing in exactly the same direction as before. It's like he's doing it without even thinking about it. (Which may be par for the course.) If the door were open, he'd be looking...somewhere inside your lab? Maybe near the center? Hard to say from here.

"And! Speaking of weeks. You...haven't found that, thing, the 5-gear shift-combine...in this week?" He asked, putting each and every one of his teeth into a grin.

[Elanorin]

The Scrapscallion laughed a totally normal laugh. The type that normal ponies make all the time. That's the laugh he did. "Yeah. Or stabbed, or shot, or shot and stabbed, or on fire - I, I'd probably be able to hear that one from here - or crushed in a horrible lab accident deep underground where nobody'd ever find you so hey! Five for five! Guess that's two of us who've had a good week."

There. Right there. He looked away, shuffled his hooves, and wound up pointing in exactly the same direction as before. It's like he's doing it without even thinking about it. (Which may be par for the course.) If the door were open, he'd be looking...somewhere inside your lab? Maybe near the center? Hard to say from here.

"And! Speaking of weeks. You...haven't found that, thing, the 5-gear shift-combine...in this week?" He asked, putting each and every one of his teeth into a grin.

Is... is he threatening me?

"No... not yet..." mumbled Milliway, "aren't you off on some daring-do? If you want another upgrade it'd take me at least a day to improve your... vehicle."

He wants something.

"Who's going with you anyway? The Administrator? Proper Process? Luminark?" she asked a little too hopefully.

[BlasTech]

Luminark's plan is essentially to lay low. He spends time lurking around either the deep stacks of the library or the garage, looking up maps and plans of things out in the world that might please the Archmage. He understands that some irrational ponies might hold incomprehensible grudges so he intends to work around other ponies for the foreseeable future.

The plan is to stow away in whatsisname - Trashcolt? - Trashcolt's car when he next leaves the station. Then with his preparation he'll have a list of places to hit up and by the time he comes back there'll be some new crisis and all will be forgotten. Flawless.

Flawless planning. One question though, how do you intend to get in there?

I mean, Trashcolt -- er, Scraps, you probably have security on your bike-truck right?


Start of Session rolls: Wealth: [roll0] +2 Barter. The Manufactory is alive and well, I see.

On the day of Scrapscallion's departure, I'm gathering everyone in the base into the atrium for an announcement.

I trot around the podium, gather my notes, and take a deep breath. "I'm sure you've noticed that things in our Bunker have been a bit more tumultuous of late than anypony would like. It is a sad, sad state of affairs. Some of our colleagues have been injured because somepony here does not have friendship in their heart!" I'm pacing, military, straight backed, feet clopping down like bullets. "And I am furious--furious!--that it has escaped my notice long enough to be a problem! In our Bunker, you know that anypony can come to see me, discuss what they think should be done, that our home can be improved. But this pony--nay, this unpony, for no pony could strike at their own in such a manner--did nothing of the sort! They, for reasons known only to them, chose instead to hurt innocent ponies! They have committed the capital crime of disrupting the peace of Our Bunker!

"So now, we need to find them! We need to find where they hide, who they are! And I charge all of you--be wary! Any one of you could be the traitor, so the key is Constant! Vigilance!"

The notepads slam to the podium hard enough to leave a dent. "And if anypony knows anything, I command you to come forward now, and tell me."
[Towering Presence: [roll1]. Who's moving?]

The group shuffles its collective hooves, with most of the ponies hiding amongst one another to try to avoid drawing your attention or wrath. It's helped by the fact that most of the ponies who would nominally be "in charge" of the various divisions are either recovering in the medibay, locked up in your prison cells or dead. Everyone else adopts an air of "Hey, I'm not in charge. That responsibility thing, that's somepony else's problem"

There's only a few of the leaders there to bear the brunt of your order: Proper Process, who was still walking with assistance after the blast, as well as Carat and Absorber Rod, who had been absent from the staff meeting and subsequent roundup. The heads of the various Friendship Patrol squadrons line the wall behind you.

Rod stepped forward.

"Uh, I'm not sure if it's relevant or not, your administrator-ness. But we found a dead pony down in the maintenance tunnels the other day. One of my teams got attacked by somepony down near trash compactor four. They didn't get a look at them, but whoever it was hit them hard and got away in the confusion."

"We're still investigating this, ma'am" added Forced Smile. "Right now, we don't know who the attacker was, but the dead pony was Power Overwhelming. We've got her body down at the morgue."

[Just to be clear, Shimmer, Towering Presence needs to be directed at a specific target. It says "someone", singluar, after all. Gonna pick the target for you here, and happy to do it where you leave the option to me, but there may come a time where it's not that useful in a crowd situation.]


The Scrapscallion laughed a totally normal laugh. The type that normal ponies make all the time. That's the laugh he did. "Yeah. Or stabbed, or shot, or shot and stabbed, or on fire - I, I'd probably be able to hear that one from here - or crushed in a horrible lab accident deep underground where nobody'd ever find you so hey! Five for five! Guess that's two of us who've had a good week."

There. Right there. He looked away, shuffled his hooves, and wound up pointing in exactly the same direction as before. It's like he's doing it without even thinking about it. (Which may be par for the course.) If the door were open, he'd be looking...somewhere inside your lab? Maybe near the center? Hard to say from here.

"And! Speaking of weeks. You...haven't found that, thing, the 5-gear shift-combine...in this week?" He asked, putting each and every one of his teeth into a grin.

Tick tock, time's a-wasting. Don't forget, you've gotta get a moving soon if you want to make the best use of daylight Scraps!

[TheAmishPirate]

I mean, Trashcolt -- er, Scraps, you probably have security on your bike-truck right?

Yeah, I got security on my ride. For one, I got the only key, so good luck driving off with it. But on the off-chance some maniac manages to get the engine running, unless they know the secret way to shift the pedals to engage the clutch - a little something I put on all my bikes - then they aren't gonna get more than a few dozen yards before the engine cuts out. That'll learn 'em.

As for the storage compartment, it's got two locks on it; one internal, one external. The internal one is like one of those bar things that shifts around, fits into slots on the top and bottom, y'know? The external lock is good a good old-fashioned heavy padlock and length of chain. And again, I keep the keys with me, so I'm the only one who has access, short of a crowbar. And I think I'd notice if somebody pried their way in.


Tick tock, time's a-wasting. Don't forget, you've gotta get a moving soon if you want to make the best use of daylight Scraps!

Yeah, yeah, I know. Just...just gimme a sec, alright?


Is... is he threatening me?

"No... not yet..." mumbled Milliway, "aren't you off on some daring-do? If you want another upgrade it'd take me at least a day to improve your... vehicle."

He wants something.

"Who's going with you anyway? The Administrator? Proper Process? Luminark?" she asked a little too hopefully.

"Luminark? That nerd?" The Scrapscallion laughed, for real this time. "Haven't you heard? He swiped a pair of Deathclaw claws from the Princess, right in front of her. Nopony's seen him all week. Loser probably ran for the hills, crying or wetting himself or some lame combination of the two."

Shoot. Shoot. Why did he say that? Why in Equestria did he say that?! Why would he go for the gross in front of- "Which doesn't really matter; I ride alone baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaye myself. By myself." Abort. Abort. ABORT. "And! Speaking of rides, when I come back from this ride, you'd better have room for a gear shift combine!" He stepped back.

"...because when I come back, I'll have one!" He backed off again.

"...and then you'll have it!" Straight back he went.

"...so you'd better have room for it!"

*whump* He backed his rump straight into the wall.

"...peace!" And with that, he stiffly pranced off towards the hangar.

Well, if nothing else Milliway, he just gave you a neat, straight path in line with where he'd been facing. It'd be child's play for you to map out. Tell me; when do you realize he's been pointing straight at the Crystal Heart all this time?

And Glimglam, what awaits the Scrapscallion when he gets to his bike?

[Elanorin]

"Luminark? That nerd?" The Scrapscallion laughed, for real this time. "Haven't you heard? He swiped a pair of Deathclaw claws from the Princess, right in front of her. Nopony's seen him all week. Loser probably ran for the hills, crying or wetting himself or some lame combination of the two."

Deathclaw claws? What's he going to do with Deathclaw claws? Comb his mane?

Milliway's face furrowed in to a frown as she wondered if this were diamond Deathclaw claws, because she could find use for that, she was sure. If nothing else for those booby traps she'd decided to set up.


"Which doesn't really matter; I ride alone baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaye myself. By myself. And! Speaking of rides, when I come back from this ride, you'd better have room for a gear shift combine!" He stepped back.

Milliway watched the screen, still frowning.


"...because when I come back, I'll have one!" He backed off again.

What is he doing?


"...and then you'll have it!" Straight back he went.

Milliway blinked, once, slowly.


"...so you'd better have room for it!"

He's gonna hit that wall.


*whump* He backed his rump straight into the wall.

"...peace!"

Milliway's frown turned in to a scowl as she did a double take between Scrap and the Crystal Heart, eyeing his angle and the invisible line of intent between the two points.

He wouldn't dare.


And with that, he stiffly pranced off towards the hangar.

Milliway cut the connection with a snap and kick and the monitor went dark.

He wouldn't dare.

But just to be on the safe side, she went to check on it, and polish it a little, before finishing up and sneaking off outside to spy on the great departure.

[Thanqol]

Flawless planning. One question though, how do you intend to get in there?

I mean, Trashcolt -- er, Scraps, you probably have security on your bike-truck right?


Yeah, I got security on my ride. For one, I got the only key, so good luck driving off with it. But on the off-chance some maniac manages to get the engine running, unless they know the secret way to shift the pedals to engage the clutch - a little something I put on all my bikes - then they aren't gonna get more than a few dozen yards before the engine cuts out. That'll learn 'em.

As for the storage compartment, it's got two locks on it; one internal, one external. The internal one is like one of those bar things that shifts around, fits into slots on the top and bottom, y'know? The external lock is good a good old-fashioned heavy padlock and length of chain. And again, I keep the keys with me, so I'm the only one who has access, short of a crowbar. And I think I'd notice if somebody pried their way in.

While Luminark has access to a vast and weird array of magical techniques that would enable him to conquer mere mundane locks with trivial ease he is aware that the unenlightened who hunt him may be looking for signs of magical tampering.

So instead he just straps himself to the underside of the vehicle, Sideshow Bob style.

[Balmas]

There's only a few of the leaders there to bear the brunt of your order: Proper Process, who was still walking with assistance after the blast, as well as Carat and Absorber Rod, who had been absent from the staff meeting and subsequent roundup. The heads of the various Friendship Patrol squadrons line the wall behind you.

Rod stepped forward.

"Uh, I'm not sure if it's relevant or not, your administrator-ness. But we found a dead pony down in the maintenance tunnels the other day. One of my teams got attacked by somepony down near trash compactor four. They didn't get a look at them, but whoever it was hit them hard and got away in the confusion."

"We're still investigating this, ma'am" added Forced Smile. "Right now, we don't know who the attacker was, but the dead pony was Power Overwhelming. We've got her body down at the morgue."

[Just to be clear, Shimmer, Towering Presence needs to be directed at a specific target. It says "someone", singluar, after all. Gonna pick the target for you here, and happy to do it where you leave the option to me, but there may come a time where it's not that useful in a crowd situation.]

"How large a person? What are the distinguishing wound marks?" Starlight huffed. "Dear sweet me, man, we have a coroner. How'd she die?"

[BlasTech]

While Luminark has access to a vast and weird array of magical techniques that would enable him to conquer mere mundane locks with trivial ease he is aware that the unenlightened who hunt him may be looking for signs of magical tampering.

So instead he just straps himself to the underside of the vehicle, Sideshow Bob style.

There's no way this plan can go wrong!

Okay, while you're strapping yourself to the bottom of the garbagecart. Something doesn't quite seem right. I mean, not that you've had extensive experience with being tied to the bottom of junk-buckets like this one. But something still feels a bit off.

Do you want to roll sharp here?


"How large a person? What are the distinguishing wound marks?" Starlight huffed. "Dear sweet me, man, we have a coroner. How'd she die?"

"Uh. They didn't get a good look at them, ma'am. Something tripped the steam vents, flooded the area with hot vapour. Amongst all the confusion, the only thing my guys told me was that whoever it was packed a mean hook." replied Rod, nervous at this line of questioning. "You'd do best to ask them direct if you want the whole story ma'am. Horse's mouth and all that."

"As for Power Overwhelming. All I heard was that she'd had her throat slit. I can get Dem Bones to come speak to you if you want more details on how he's going with the autopsy."



But just to be on the safe side, she went to check on it, and polish it a little, before finishing up and sneaking off outside to spy on the great departure.

Tell me, Milliway, how does the heart feel to you when you polish it? Does it respond in any way, glow any more fiercely?

What's it like, when you're nearby?



And Glimglam, what awaits the Scrapscallion when he gets to his bike?

Gonna requote this question for you, Glim Glam. What's going on topside as far as the expedition goes? Are you letting Scraps go off solo, or are there any of your guys along for the ride?

[Balmas]

"Uh. They didn't get a good look at them, ma'am. Something tripped the steam vents, flooded the area with hot vapour. Amongst all the confusion, the only thing my guys told me was that whoever it was packed a mean hook." replied Rod, nervous at this line of questioning. "You'd do best to ask them direct if you want the whole story ma'am. Horse's mouth and all that."

"As for Power Overwhelming. All I heard was that she'd had her throat slit. I can get Dem Bones to come speak to you if you want more details on how he's going with the autopsy."

"Very well," Starlight grumbled. "I'm going to meet with Dem Bones. If there's anypony from the attack who isn't in the medbay, send them to my office."

Gonna requote this question for you, Glim Glam. What's going on topside as far as the expedition goes? Are you letting Scraps go off solo, or are there any of your guys along for the ride?

Well, the most obvious thing is that Scrapscallion is to put in all the effort he can to ensure that power is restored to Our Bunker's defenses. And as there's hardly room for an entire platoon on that abomination he calls a vehicle, there's only one trooper waiting to ride shotgun. As I recall, I sent Corporal Paddy to do the job.

Most ponies get one of two first impressions of Paddy. First is that of a chest that isn't so much barrel as it is tun, surmounted by enough whiskers to outdo an entire warren of rabbits. The second, and sadly more likely to occur, is that of a mountain rushing forward to crush you with dinner-plate sized hooves. When I first met Paddy, it was in the context of a holding cell. Paddy had made the local dentist a few bits richer when one of the stupider troopers insulted Paddy's moustache. Wasn't the first time he'd wound up there. An unruly troublemaker, but an expert in making things hurt. Actually, I might want to send him to one of our Friendship counselors, to see whether I can extract what makes him take such joy in dismantling ponies and spread it to the rest of the Friendliness squadrons.

As it is, he greets you with a hefty "Hey ho" and does an admirable job of trying to stave in your spine with a friendly pat on the back. "When do we depart?"

[Thanqol]

There's no way this plan can go wrong!

Okay, while you're strapping yourself to the bottom of the garbagecart. Something doesn't quite seem right. I mean, not that you've had extensive experience with being tied to the bottom of junk-buckets like this one. But something still feels a bit off.

Do you want to roll sharp here?

Certainly; 8, what enemy is the biggest threat to me?

[Elanorin]

Tell me, Milliway, how does the heart feel to you when you polish it? Does it respond in any way, glow any more fiercely?

What's it like, when you're nearby?


The heart is warm, did I mention I once used it as a hot water bottle? Back in the day before I'd figured out how to tap in to it. Warm, faintly vibrating, as if it's humming only no sound can be heard. It's smooth and gleaming and sends little shivers of make-feel-nice all over you. Time seems to slow down, or perhaps speed up, and if you're not careful, you could easily spend a whole day with it. More maybe. It doesn't really react in any way when I touch it other than the fact that it gives me a slight sparkly glow. It wears off soon enough, but while it lasts it feels really nice. Even I can't help but smile and walk with a hop and a skip.

When I'm near it doesn't react at all. It's as if its attention (if it has such) is entirely directed elsewhere and whatever I'm doing is just a distraction which it may or may not notice at all. Though, saying that, there was this one time. Not that long ago. I'd just spotted the theft of my eye, and obviously knew the piece of *ambient background noise briefly blocks out voice* that was behind it, and I was briefly running through options with myself, out loud, what I'd do to him. Then, the light it gives off, faded oddly. Stayed dimmed until House made me laugh showing me the latest apprentice application.

Should probably look in to that.

[TheAmishPirate]

But just to be on the safe side, she went to check on it, and polish it a little, before finishing up and sneaking off outside to spy on the great departure.


While Luminark has access to a vast and weird array of magical techniques that would enable him to conquer mere mundane locks with trivial ease he is aware that the unenlightened who hunt him may be looking for signs of magical tampering.

So instead he just straps himself to the underside of the vehicle, Sideshow Bob style.


Well, the most obvious thing is that Scrapscallion is to put in all the effort he can to ensure that power is restored to Our Bunker's defenses. And as there's hardly room for an entire platoon on that abomination he calls a vehicle, there's only one trooper waiting to ride shotgun. As I recall, I sent Corporal Paddy to do the job.

Most ponies get one of two first impressions of Paddy. First is that of a chest that isn't so much barrel as it is tun, surmounted by enough whiskers to outdo an entire warren of rabbits. The second, and sadly more likely to occur, is that of a mountain rushing forward to crush you with dinner-plate sized hooves. When I first met Paddy, it was in the context of a holding cell. Paddy had made the local dentist a few bits richer when one of the stupider troopers insulted Paddy's moustache. Wasn't the first time he'd wound up there. An unruly troublemaker, but an expert in making things hurt. Actually, I might want to send him to one of our Friendship counselors, to see whether I can extract what makes him take such joy in dismantling ponies and spread it to the rest of the Friendliness squadrons.

As it is, he greets you with a hefty "Hey ho" and does an admirable job of trying to stave in your spine with a friendly pat on the back. "When do we depart?"

First things first; the Scrapscallion stood stock-still, breathing deeply as he focused all his energy on not collapsing to the floor in a lame heap.

Second things second; the Scrapscallion collapsed to the floor in a lame heap. Fortunately, the hangar was totally abandoned except for the two of them, and not a single other pony saw him eat dirt.

"What I said," He staggered upright. "Was that we leave as soon as you *ow* get your flank on board. Let's *hurk* do this thing!" While space was limited on the helm of the Peregrine Mk. V, there was enough room for a second pony to ride shotgun behind him. Plenty more could ride in the storage compartment, so there was rarely a need to go more than two up front. Shenanigans excluded.

Once Paddy was strapped in, the Scrapscallion would flick on the ignition, and kick the bike into high gear. The road was calling his name, and he had no intention of making her wait.

[Thanqol]

First things first; the Scrapscallion stood stock-still, breathing deeply as he focused all his energy on not collapsing to the floor in a lame heap.

Second things second; the Scrapscallion collapsed to the floor in a lame heap. Fortunately, the hangar was totally abandoned except for the two of them, and not a single other pony saw him eat dirt.

OH CELESTIA HE'S SEEN ME, BLAST HI - Luminark caught the fireball just before it left his horn. He hadn't been seen. He didn't need to panic. Phew. That was fine. No panicking.

So what had he just seen? Did... did Recycling Filly just faceplant for no reason? That was both amusing and entirely in character. He would permit himself a cultured but dismissive chuckle if he was not involved in a stealth operation. But what if it was a seizure? And he was going to drive? That was hardly safe! He should demand a qualified professional and not an epileptic earth pony! When all this was over he'd give the medical board a piece of his mind, count on that!

[BlasTech]

Certainly; 8, what enemy is the biggest threat to me?

Well, it's probably the pony that hooked the weird blinky device onto the bottom of Scrap-pony's hoversled.

You've only really noticed it because none of the other grav-projectors have a similar module attached. So it looks a bit out of place. What with its blinky lighted-ness and probably some wires and stuff. Earth pony contraption most like, but who knows what it does?

At least you're still on the ground here, where you can easily get away from it if necess--


First things first; the Scrapscallion stood stock-still, breathing deeply as he focused all his energy on not collapsing to the floor in a lame heap.

Second things second; the Scrapscallion collapsed to the floor in a lame heap. Fortunately, the hangar was totally abandoned except for the two of them, and not a single other pony saw him eat dirt.

"What I said," He staggered upright. "Was that we leave as soon as you *ow* get your flank on board. Let's *hurk* do this thing!" While space was limited on the helm of the Peregrine Mk. V, there was enough room for a second pony to ride shotgun behind him. Plenty more could ride in the storage compartment, so there was rarely a need to go more than two up front. Shenanigans excluded.

Once Paddy was strapped in, the Scrapscallion would flick on the ignition, and kick the bike into high gear. The road was calling his name, and he had no intention of making her wait.


OH CELESTIA HE'S SEEN ME, BLAST HI - Luminark caught the fireball just before it left his horn. He hadn't been seen. He didn't need to panic. Phew. That was fine. No panicking.

So what had he just seen? Did... did Recycling Filly just faceplant for no reason? That was both amusing and entirely in character. He would permit himself a cultured but dismissive chuckle if he was not involved in a stealth operation. But what if it was a seizure? And he was going to drive? That was hardly safe! He should demand a qualified professional and not an epileptic earth pony! When all this was over he'd give the medical board a piece of his mind, count on that!

Well, Scraps, you're airborne. Congrats. While you're flying, Paddy settles in to the cockpit. His massive girth takes up his seat, the aisle between you two, and part of your armrest. Whether or not you object to this out loud depends on how much you enjoy picking verbal fights with ponies three times your size whose idea of in-flight entertainment involves sharpening their massive combat knife.

With the road calling out to you, where are you headed? Is this something that you've had planned out in advance, or are you letting the winds guide you? In the latter case, open your brain!

Luminark. You're now airborne - strapped to the bottom of a high-speed vehicle - and eyeballing a weird blinky device that's just out of reach.

What do you do?


The heart is warm, did I mention I once used it as a hot water bottle? Back in the day before I'd figured out how to tap in to it. Warm, faintly vibrating, as if it's humming only no sound can be heard. It's smooth and gleaming and sends little shivers of make-feel-nice all over you. Time seems to slow down, or perhaps speed up, and if you're not careful, you could easily spend a whole day with it. More maybe. It doesn't really react in any way when I touch it other than the fact that it gives me a slight sparkly glow. It wears off soon enough, but while it lasts it feels really nice. Even I can't help but smile and walk with a hop and a skip.

When I'm near it doesn't react at all. It's as if its attention (if it has such) is entirely directed elsewhere and whatever I'm doing is just a distraction which it may or may not notice at all. Though, saying that, there was this one time. Not that long ago. I'd just spotted the theft of my eye, and obviously knew the piece of *ambient background noise briefly blocks out voice* that was behind it, and I was briefly running through options with myself, out loud, what I'd do to him. Then, the light it gives off, faded oddly. Stayed dimmed until House made me laugh showing me the latest apprentice application.

Should probably look in to that.

Probably.

In the meantime though, there's work to be done. As you click and snap the various components together for the communications rig, your workshop lights flicker. Each of House's monitors brown out briefly before returning to their neutral blue.

Tell me, when you're communicating with House, what's it like?


"Very well," Starlight grumbled. "I'm going to meet with Dem Bones. If there's anypony from the attack who isn't in the medbay, send them to my office."

You find Dem Bones down in his office in the morgue. A few sterile gurneys lie unoccupied, and there's a row of cold-storage lockers along one of the walls. Bones' desk is in the far corner, and from the sound of the snoring, he's taking one of his highly frequent catnaps.

From the smell of the booze in the air, the nap was probably brought on by something strong enough to strip paint.

[Thanqol]

Luminark. You're now airborne - strapped to the bottom of a high-speed vehicle - and eyeballing a weird blinky device that's just out of reach.

What do you do?

Oh no there's a bomb on this bike and if it goes under 60KM it'll explode and if we go over 60KM we'll explode because Recycling Filly will crash us out of raw incompetence and then the bomb will explode as well so we'll explode twice and oh Celestia that ground is going by really fast and this wasn't a good idea I want off Mr. Rich's Wild Ride and oh no it was made by earth ponies out of wires and rocks and I'm too pretty to die

Okay. It's like ripping off a bandaid. Just. Grab the thing. And toss it away. It's attached to the bottom of the trash mobile. So just pull off the panel it's stuck to. It'll be fine. Everything is fine. Just wait until we're going fast enough to outrun the explosion. Then do the thing. You got this.

[If it's any sort of roll that roll is a 3.]

[BlasTech]

Oh no there's a bomb on this bike and if it goes under 60KM it'll explode and if we go over 60KM we'll explode because Recycling Filly will crash us out of raw incompetence and then the bomb will explode as well so we'll explode twice and oh Celestia that ground is going by really fast and this wasn't a good idea I want off Mr. Rich's Wild Ride and oh no it was made by earth ponies out of wires and rocks and I'm too pretty to die

Okay. It's like ripping off a bandaid. Just. Grab the thing. And toss it away. It's attached to the bottom of the trash mobile. So just pull off the panel it's stuck to. It'll be fine. Everything is fine. Just wait until we're going fast enough to outrun the explosion. Then do the thing. You got this.

[If it's any sort of roll that roll is a 3.]

Right, well defusing the device whilst strapped to the bottom of a high speed, hover vehicle sounds like an Acting Under Fire to me.

Oh look, this one comes pre-rolled.

Anyway, as you tear the thing off, it trails a bunch of electronic components and sparks after it. A spiderweb of electricity arcs out from the grav projector to the other nearby ones, and the whole vehicle begins to lose control at an unhealthy rate.

Luminark, you're still barrelling along at a decent click. While Scraps, your ride has just decided to fall out from under you.

What do you two do?

[TheAmishPirate]

With the road calling out to you, where are you headed? Is this something that you've had planned out in advance, or are you letting the winds guide you? In the latter case, open your brain!

Both! Sorta.

The Scrapscallion knows exactly where he's headed; the nearest storm generator. It's hidden inside of this rock that looks like a face. Or maybe it is a face? Might be a metaphor, he hasn't seen it in a long time. Point being, he knows where he's going to end up. He knows roughly the direction he's going. But he hasn't, like, mapped out an exact route. That's for dorks and lesser wimps. The road is full of surprises, and it's anypony's guess exactly how he'll get from Point A to Point B.

But whatever it is, he can guarantee it'll be rad.


Right, well defusing the device whilst strapped to the bottom of a high speed, airborne vehicle sounds like an Acting Under Fire to me.

Oh look, this one comes pre-rolled.

Anyway, as you tear the thing off, it trails a bunch of electronic components and sparks after it. A spiderweb of electricity arcs out from the grav projector to the other nearby ones, and the whole vehicle begins to lose altitude at an unhealthy rate.

Luminark, you're still a few hundred feet up. While Scraps, your ride has just decided to fall out from under you.

What do you two do?

...or, it would be, if the Peregrine didn't decide to crap out on him. Fortunately, the Scrapscallion was a trained professional, expert in such matters as crash landings.

He spied out a long hunk of rooftop, collapsed at a weird angle, and decided the best approach would be to do a sick grind off of it to lower his speed. Kicking on the air brakes, he jerked the whole bike sideways and braced for impact.

[Thanqol]

Right, well defusing the device whilst strapped to the bottom of a high speed, airborne vehicle sounds like an Acting Under Fire to me.

Oh look, this one comes pre-rolled.

Anyway, as you tear the thing off, it trails a bunch of electronic components and sparks after it. A spiderweb of electricity arcs out from the grav projector to the other nearby ones, and the whole vehicle begins to lose altitude at an unhealthy rate.

Luminark, you're still a few hundred feet up. While Scraps, your ride has just decided to fall out from under you.

What do you two do?

Oh no! Less than a few seconds after saving everypony's lives that stupid earth pony driver is going to get him killed! This is all his fault! And the administrator's for not recognizing that he had a science-critical need for those dog hands! And Miliway's - because - because she probably built this stupid floating camper van! All these earth ponies were in on it together!

Someone else was going to solve this for him. Fair's fair - he clearly couldn't be held accountable. The gemstone on his forehead crackled, turned a vibrant shade of pink, and started to suck up passing ghosts.

[Open your brain: 11. Luminark's thinking about getting a mechanic but he'll take anything that helps survivability.]

[Elanorin]

In the meantime though, there's work to be done. As you click and snap the various components together for the communications rig, your workshop lights flicker. Each of House's monitors brown out briefly before returning to their neutral blue.

Tell me, when you're communicating with House, what's it like?

Milliway paused, or froze on the spot, more like, as the myriad of monitors blinked out briefly.

That's... not a good sign.

*

Talking to House? House is... the only one who really understands me. He's the only one whose company never gets tiresome. He's efficient, well informed (obviously), precise, intelligent, to the point and direct, perhaps... sometimes... a smidge too much. He means well, even when he sometimes gets a bit tangled in Health & Safety directives. He has a calm and masculine voice, never gets ratty or snarky and always sides with me.

House started out as a simple automation of some simple systems that would save me time. But when it turned out good I kept adding systems until he pretty much spanned my whole workshop and little by little he became a digital assistant of sorts. And when he got The Heart... he became much more than that.

So talking to House is easy. Comfortable. It's as natural to me as thinking. Oh! A thought interface! I should totally make one of those!

[Balmas]

You find Dem Bones down in his office in the morgue. A few sterile gurneys lie unoccupied, and there's a row of cold-storage lockers along one of the walls. Bones' desk is in the far corner, and from the sound of the snoring, he's taking one of his highly frequent catnaps.

From the smell of the booze in the air, the nap was probably brought on by something strong enough to strip paint.

Well, we can't have that. I shake him awake, or failing that, give a sharp dig with the edge of my hoof. "I understand someone's been murdered," I state, once he's awake. "I need you to tell me everything. Someone here needs a funeral because someone out there desperately needs friendship. And I intend to help them get it."

[BlasTech]

...or, it would be, if the Peregrine didn't decide to crap out on him. Fortunately, the Scrapscallion was a trained professional, expert in such matters as crash landings.

He spied out a long hunk of rooftop, collapsed at a weird angle, and decided the best approach would be to do a sick grind off of it to lower his speed. Kicking on the air brakes, he jerked the whole bike sideways and braced for impact.

Sounds like an Acting Under Fire to perform the sick grind!


Milliway paused, or froze on the spot, more like, as the myriad of monitors blinked out briefly.

That's... not a good sign.

Not indeed, particularly when the Heart is meant to keep things going.

"Apologies for the disruption madam." comes House's voice over the workshop terminal.

"There was a disruption to the incoming power supply. I'm not sure what caused it."


Well, we can't have that. I shake him awake, or failing that, give a sharp dig with the edge of my hoof. "I understand someone's been murdered," I state, once he's awake. "I need you to tell me everything. Someone here needs a funeral because someone out there desperately needs friendship. And I intend to help them get it."

"BWAH!" replies Bones, falling off his chair in the process.

"Miss! Administrator! Ma'am!" he shouts, before wincing at the pain that loud noises brings him. Once he's calmed down, he stares at you with bleary eyes as you lay out your objectives.

"Ugh. Of all the days." he groans, rubbing his head with a hoof. "There's nothing to report here. Pony got her throat cut, open and shut. She's in cabinet four if you want to look at her."

That said, something about his answer doesn't quite parse.

[Did you want to read a pony here?]

[TheAmishPirate]

Sounds like an Acting Under Fire to perform the sick grind!

Heck yeah!

4 + 2 + 2 = 8, unless a certain stowaway would like to provide some Aid?

[Elanorin]

Not indeed, particularly when the Heart is meant to keep things going.

"Apologies for the disruption madam." comes House's voice over the workshop terminal.

"There was a disruption to the incoming power supply. I'm not sure what caused it."

Milliway suddenly leapt into action and positively pounced a nearby control panel and started furiously tapping.

"Are any systems comprised?! Is the firewall intact? Are we leaking integrity? Has anything breached?! Am I hacked?" That last sentence was not so much spoken as squeaked in growing panic.

I'm going to kill that good for nothing unicorn. This has his stink all over it. His and that revolting pet of his! This is outrageous! Beyond belief! Has he no respect for privacy?!

[BlasTech]

Oh no! Less than a few seconds after saving everypony's lives that stupid earth pony driver is going to get him killed! This is all his fault! And the administrator's for not recognizing that he had a science-critical need for those dog hands! And Miliway's - because - because she probably built this stupid floating camper van! All these earth ponies were in on it together!

Someone else was going to solve this for him. Fair's fair - he clearly couldn't be held accountable. The gemstone on his forehead crackled, turned a vibrant shade of pink, and started to suck up passing ghosts.

[Open your brain: 11. Luminark's thinking about getting a mechanic but he'll take anything that helps survivability.]

"Oh, I see your problem here." says a voice, as something seizes control of your limbs. "You're trying to solve this situation with the application of delicate and complex magics."

"What you really need, is MORE POWER!!"

And with that, it shoves your horn into the engine.


Heck yeah!

4 + 2 + 2 = 8, unless a certain stowaway would like to provide some Aid?

Fortunately, he would. Not that you'd know.

In fact, from your perspective Scraps, you manage to coax out a tiny bit more from the Peregine, which allows you to pull of a sick grind along the side of the shack before backblasting the throttle. The bike does a wicked 720*°, sticking the landing on the right back stabiliser, before coming to a rest in a cloud of dust.

This is not pleasant to experience, whether you are strapped into the cockpit or (especially) to the bottom of the bike.

In either case, the bike has come to a safe stop and there doesn't seem to be much damage - except that the grav boosters are out of action.

What do you do now?


Milliway suddenly leapt into action and positively pounced a nearby control panel and started furiously tapping.

"Are any systems comprised?! Is the firewall intact? Are we leaking integrity? Has anything breached?! Am I hacked?" That last sentence was not so much spoken as squeaked in growing panic.

I'm going to kill that good for nothing unicorn. This has his stink all over it. His and that revolting pet of his! This is outrageous! Beyond belief! Has he no respect for privacy?!

Monitors are blinking, the data is streaming across your vision.

Sounds like you're trying to read a sitch!

[Balmas]

"BWAH!" replies Bones, falling off his chair in the process.

"Miss! Administrator! Ma'am!" he shouts, before wincing at the pain that loud noises brings him. Once he's calmed down, he stares at you with bleary eyes as you lay out your objectives.

"Ugh. Of all the days." he groans, rubbing his head with a hoof. "There's nothing to report here. Pony got her throat cut, open and shut. She's in cabinet four if you want to look at her."

That said, something about his answer doesn't quite parse.

[Did you want to read a pony here?]

Aye, that seems like a worthwhile thing to be doing.

[roll0] How can I get him to tell me everything he knows about what's going on?

"Roll her out," Starlight said, voice subdued. "I can give her at least that last honor. Nothing? Really? Where was she? Have you asked where she was seen last? What shift did she cover? If I'm to track down this murderer, then I need to know where to start."

[Elanorin]

Monitors are blinking, the data is streaming across your vision.

Sounds like you're trying to read a sitch!

Yes, and then some!

[Rolling Read Sitch: 6+5+0=11; Who's in control here? What should I be on the lookout for? What's my enemy's true position?
Rolling Things Speak: 2+2+2=6]

[BlasTech]

Aye, that seems like a worthwhile thing to be doing.

[roll0] How can I get him to tell me everything he knows about what's going on?

"Roll her out," Starlight said, voice subdued. "I can give her at least that last honor. Nothing? Really? Where was she? Have you asked where she was seen last? What shift did she cover? If I'm to track down this murderer, then I need to know where to start."

Bones didn't need much in the way of encouragement. In fact if you want him to tell you all he knows, you really only have to threaten him as the pony doesn't really have the stomach for violence (despite his chosen profession)

"Ma'am, I'm a mortician, not a policepony. If you want to know her last movements, ask one of your Friendship pals there." he replies, as he sluggishly makes his way over to the freezers and wheels out the corpse. The body of Power Overwhelming rested on the bier. Her throat had been quite clearly cut - although it had also been cleaned up a bit.


Yes, and then some!

[Rolling Read Sitch: 6+5+0=11; Who's in control here? What should I be on the lookout for? What's my enemy's true position?
Rolling Things Speak: 2+2+2=6]

Your monitors stream data across them, but it's not until you look closer that you realise that it is a transmission. Somepony has hacked into your datalinks and is downloading a lot of technical information from your system.

"Madam, there ... appears ... -bzztchh-" says House.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

Fortunately, he would. Not that you'd know.

In fact, from your perspective Scraps, you manage to coax out a tiny bit more from the Peregine, which allows you to pull of a sick grind along the side of the shack before backblasting the throttle. The bike does a wicked 720*°, sticking the landing on the right back stabiliser, before coming to a rest in a cloud of dust.

This is not pleasant to experience, whether you are strapped into the cockpit or (especially) to the bottom of the bike.

In either case, the bike has come to a safe stop and there doesn't seem to be much damage - except that the grav boosters are out of action.

What do you do now?

Pleasant? No.

Righteous? Very yes.

The Scrapscallion flicked his goggles off and let out an involuntary, "Woooooooooo!" Adrenaline coursed through his soul with every heartbeat, stoking a fire in his belly that shouted for more, more, more! He tumbled out the cockpit, regarding his ride with a manic grin. "What's up, old girl? What's gotten into ya? C'mon; don't be shy now!"

For his first diagnostics check; good old-fashioned percussive maintenance. The Scrapscallion started by kicking the nearest grav booster, feeling the vibrations of hoof on metal run snaking down his spine, before hurling himself bodily at the machine with a spirited woop.

[Rolling to Open Scrap's Brain about what's wrong with the Peregrine. [roll0]]

[Thanqol]

Luminark would have quite liked to have fainted. He's a fainter. A delicate and dying art (for the delicate and dying). Fainting is a great way to stop having to deal with problems like pain, or noise, or smell, or the fact that all three are trying to kill you.

But somepony was kicking the giant pile of garbage he was strapped to like an alarm clock.

So he didn't faint. He just held in placed, dazed and vaguely aware he should be seething.

[BlasTech]

Luminark would have quite liked to have fainted. He's a fainter. A delicate and dying art (for the delicate and dying). Fainting is a great way to stop having to deal with problems like pain, or noise, or smell, or the fact that all three are trying to kill you.

But somepony was kicking the giant pile of garbage he was strapped to like an alarm clock.

So he didn't faint. He just held in placed, dazed and vaguely aware he should be seething.

Well, with Scraps bashing away at the Peregine, it feels like your head is inside a church bell while it's being run. (or, alternatively, that your head is ringing the church bell)

How are you able to suppress the urge to move or yell in that environment? Do you think of something to distract yourself?


Pleasant? No.

Righteous? Very yes.

The Scrapscallion flicked his goggles off and let out an involuntary, "Woooooooooo!" Adrenaline coursed through his soul with every heartbeat, stoking a fire in his belly that shouted for more, more, more! He tumbled out the cockpit, regarding his ride with a manic grin. "What's up, old girl? What's gotten into ya? C'mon; don't be shy now!"

For his first diagnostics check; good old-fashioned percussive maintenance. The Scrapscallion started by kicking the nearest grav booster, feeling the vibrations of hoof on metal run snaking down his spine, before hurling himself bodily at the machine with a spirited woop.

[Rolling to Open Scrap's Brain about what's wrong with the Peregrine. [roll0]]

Well, with all of that woopin' and clangin' it's no wonder that what happens next happens next.

A bullet comes flying out of nowhere, spang-ing off the stabiliser just above your head. Another hits the dirt a good few meters away from you as somepony in the ruins yells out a warcry.

In the silence that follows it, a colt's voice calls out from a different location.

"You there! In the no-longer-flyin' thing! Those were warnin' shots, so y'all better drop yer guns a'fore we start aimin' prop'ly like!"

Inside, you can hear Paddy slotting shells into his weapon. Whoever is out there doesn't look like they've noticed him yet.

What do you two do?

[Elanorin]

Your monitors stream data across them, but it's not until you look closer that you realise that it is a transmission. Somepony has hacked into your datalinks and is downloading a lot of technical information from your system.

"Madam, there ... appears ... -bzztchh-" says House.

What do you do?

"House? House!?" Milliway tapped furiously on the controls like a pony possessed.

You want my stuff, eh? You think you can march in to my systems and take my stuff, eh?!

"Why don't you ask Luminark what happens when you take my stuff."

Y'know, after I've made him pay for it.

Rather than try to stop the download, Milliway instead tried to feed it with every malicious system corruption she could muster. She wanted whoever had the audacity to do this to regret the day they thought they could hack her. More than that, she wanted sparks in their face. More than that, she wanted their damn equipment to f*cking blow up in their face.

[Assuming this requires an AUF roll: 5+3+1=9]

[Balmas]

Bones didn't need much in the way of encouragement. In fact if you want him to tell you all he knows, you really only have to threaten him as the pony doesn't really have the stomach for violence (despite his chosen profession)

"Ma'am, I'm a mortician, not a policepony. If you want to know her last movements, ask one of your Friendship pals there." he replies, as he sluggishly makes his way over to the freezers and wheels out the corpse. The body of Power Overwhelming rested on the bier. Her throat had been quite clearly cut - although it had also been cleaned up a bit

"That's as may be," Starlight stated as she sat down next to the corpse and began to examine the wound. "Still, as a mortician, you can tell me more than that about how she died, and I suggest you do that before I decide your files need to be visited by an auditor." There was no heat behind the threat; just cool dedication. "Information like what kind of weapon did this, beyond 'something sharp'. How long had she been dead before she was found? That alone could be the key to knowing when she died. Where was she found? Does she have a next of kin, parents, anything in her files?"

[Thanqol]

Well, with Scraps bashing away at the Peregine, it feels like your head is inside a church bell while it's being run. (or, alternatively, that your head is ringing the church bell)

How are you able to suppress the urge to move or yell in that environment? Do you think of something to distract yourself?

I'm blue da bu de ba bu dai, da bu de ba bu dai....

This was not much of an improvement because it was one of the songs he'd sung on the mixtape he'd tried to give to the Archmage and even thinking about it brought back enough embarrassing memories to make him long for the sweet mercy of death.


Well, with all of that woopin' and clangin' it's no wonder that what happens next happens next.

A bullet comes flying out of nowhere, spang-ing off the stabiliser just above your head. Another hits the dirt a good few meters away from you as somepony in the ruins yells out a warcry.

In the silence that follows it, a colt's voice calls out from a different location.

"You there! In the no-longer-flyin' thing! Those were warnin' shots, so y'all better drop yer guns a'fore we start aimin' prop'ly like!"

Inside, you can hear Paddy slotting shells into his weapon. Whoever is out there doesn't look like they've noticed him yet.

What do you two do?

No! No! I changed my mind about the sweet mercy of death! Don't you dare get me shot!

Luminark hurriedly began doing whatever he could to fix the machine. If he could get this thing working it'd be his best ticket out of this disaster.

[BlasTech]

"House? House!?" Milliway tapped furiously on the controls like a pony possessed.

You want my stuff, eh? You think you can march in to my systems and take my stuff, eh?!

"Why don't you ask Luminark what happens when you take my stuff."

Y'know, after I've made him pay for it.

Rather than try to stop the download, Milliway instead tried to feed it with every malicious system corruption she could muster. She wanted whoever had the audacity to do this to regret the day they thought they could hack her. More than that, she wanted sparks in their face. More than that, she wanted their damn equipment to f*cking blow up in their face.

[Assuming this requires an AUF roll: 5+3+1=9]

Well, it's a good plan. Hook the pipes up and flood them with garbage.

The only problem is that, again, you need MORE POWER. You need a pump big enough to push back against the torrent that's flooding you. The only thing in your workshop that really has the grunt to deliver on this is the Crystal Heart.

But who knows what might happen if you hook that thing up to the outside systems.


"That's as may be," Starlight stated as she sat down next to the corpse and began to examine the wound. "Still, as a mortician, you can tell me more than that about how she died, and I suggest you do that before I decide your files need to be visited by an auditor." There was no heat behind the threat; just cool dedication. "Information like what kind of weapon did this, beyond 'something sharp'. How long had she been dead before she was found? That alone could be the key to knowing when she died. Where was she found? Does she have a next of kin, parents, anything in her files?"

Say again. Your threat is that he gets audited? What exactly is so fearsome about that and what would Bones have to fear about it?


[I]No! No! I changed my mind about the sweet mercy of death! Don't you dare get me shot!

Luminark hurriedly began doing whatever he could to fix the machine. If he could get this thing working it'd be his best ticket out of this disaster.

Unfortunately, the machine is missing a few key parts now ... probably torn out with the device when it was jettisoned back a-ways. As good a mechanic as your ghost spirit is (and, hint, the one you've got right now isn't that good) you'll need to find something high-tech to get this thing in the air again at anything above a limp. Either that, or try your luck again and see if you land a good jury-rigger.

[Balmas]

Say again. Your threat is that he gets audited? What exactly is so fearsome about that and what would Bones have to fear about it?

Let me answer your question with another question. We're living in a bunker where everyone has something like thirteen doctorates and we're inventing new fields of SCIENCE to compartmentalize all the new things we're doing. Besides being tangled up in bureaucracy, and the weeks of scheduling time it would take for Bones to work through it, do you seriously expect me to believe that Bones isn't doing something stupid, unethical, dangerous, ill-advised, or some combination of the above in his spare time? I mean, this is the mortician we're talking about. He lives with the dead; is he really doing nothing with all those easily exploited corpses?

[Thanqol]

Unfortunately, the machine is missing a few key parts now ... probably torn out with the device when it was jettisoned back a-ways. As good a mechanic as your ghost spirit is (and, hint, the one you've got right now isn't that good) you'll need to find something high-tech to get this thing in the air again at anything above a limp. Either that, or try your luck again and see if you land a good jury-rigger.

Don't need to ask twice. Out! Out! I need a specialist! I don't care if you have to destroy this pile of worthless garbage, just take us away from the ponies with guns!

Open Your Brain: 11

[Elanorin]

Well, it's a good plan. Hook the pipes up and flood them with garbage.

The only problem is that, again, you need MORE POWER. You need a pump big enough to push back against the torrent that's flooding you. The only thing in your workshop that really has the grunt to deliver on this is the Crystal Heart.

But who knows what might happen if you hook that thing up to the outside systems.

**** caution.

Caution was for unicorns... or for when anypony was watching her.

Milliway set up the system traps, flicked the switches, pushed the buttons and then dashed across the room to the Crystal Heart and yanked out its central lead and holding it high over her head she leapt theatrically back to her previous console and slam-dunked it in to the port.

"Eat that you fivelegged mule!" she shouted and then laughed, so hoping to hear a spectacular bang somewhere that she could subsequently hunt down.

[BlasTech]

Let me answer your question with another question. We're living in a bunker where everyone has something like thirteen doctorates and we're inventing new fields of SCIENCE to compartmentalize all the new things we're doing. Besides being tangled up in bureaucracy, and the weeks of scheduling time it would take for Bones to work through it, do you seriously expect me to believe that Bones isn't doing something stupid, unethical, dangerous, ill-advised, or some combination of the above in his spare time? I mean, this is the mortician we're talking about. He lives with the dead; is he really doing nothing with all those easily exploited corpses?

Well, my initial response was going to be that this guy is lazy as all get out, so maybe not. But then again, you're the hardholder and this is your hold so I figure you have a better pulse than I on what's going on.

Whatever the case with what he's up to, Bones looks suitably rattled.

"No need for that ma'am!" he replies, crisply enough that you realise you've managed to cut through his hangover.

"Um, details, details. Well, she was killed by a serrated blade, at a guess at least six inches in length. She's been dead for about a day, rigor mortis has set in but she never progressed to the bloat phase despite the location in which she was found - which I understand was in a trash compactor. I didn't both- I mean, the toxicology reports will be complete within an hour ma'am, blood tests too. Just in case. I'll bring the information to you as soon as it's ready."

Bones was in a flurry, and he kept talking as he pulled a file out from under his desk. It looked like it hadn't even been opened before.

"Parents deceased. One through an experiment gone wrong, one killed by the Frie- uh, died in an administrative incident. Cousin to a half dozen ponies in here, through her mother's sister ... no surprises given how interbre- I mean, how contained our community is."


Don't need to ask twice. Out! Out! I need a specialist! I don't care if you have to destroy this pile of worthless garbage, just take us away from the ponies with guns!

Open Your Brain: 11

Gonna give Scraps a moment to do his thing here before I respond.


**** caution.

Caution was for unicorns... or for when anypony was watching her.

Milliway set up the system traps, flicked the switches, pushed the buttons and then dashed across the room to the Crystal Heart and yanked out its central lead and holding it high over her head she leapt theatrically back to her previous console and slam-dunked it in to the port.

"Eat that you fivelegged mule!" she shouted and then laughed, so hoping to hear a spectacular bang somewhere that she could subsequently hunt down.

All the monitors grey out for a minute, before something rumbles down in the depths of the facility.

One by one, the screens in your workshop start to come back on line.

In the middle of each, is a single phrase:

"WELL PLAYED"

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

Well, with all of that woopin' and clangin' it's no wonder that what happens next happens next.

A bullet comes flying out of nowhere, spang-ing off the stabiliser just above your head. Another hits the dirt a good few meters away from you as somepony in the ruins yells out a warcry.

In the silence that follows it, a colt's voice calls out from a different location.

"You there! In the no-longer-flyin' thing! Those were warnin' shots, so y'all better drop yer guns a'fore we start aimin' prop'ly like!"

Inside, you can hear Paddy slotting shells into his weapon. Whoever is out there doesn't look like they've noticed him yet.

What do you two do?

Woah. Okay. Bullets? Not fun. All the pain of crashing with none of the heart-pounding explosions. Punks didn't even have the decency to chase him first.

Time to perplex 'em with the 'ol Scrapscallion wit...

He looked exaggeratedly from one forehoof to the other - passing over his visibly holstered revolver - before throwing them up in a broad shrug. "I'm not holding any guns! How am I supposed to drop them?" He called back to his attackers.

[BlasTech]

Woah. Okay. Bullets? Not fun. All the pain of crashing with none of the heart-pounding explosions. Punks didn't even have the decency to chase him first.

Time to perplex 'em with the 'ol Scrapscallion wit...

He looked exaggeratedly from one forehoof to the other - passing over his visibly holstered revolver - before throwing them up in a broad shrug. "I'm not holding any guns! How am I supposed to drop them?" He called back to his attackers.

*CRACK*

Another shot hit the Peregrine, just in front of Scrap.

"Get creative!" yelled back the voice. "Cause the next one is goin' in yore head!"

They're clearly running out of patience.

What are you going to do?

Do you want to read a sitch?

[TheAmishPirate]

*CRACK*

Another shot hit the Peregrine, just in front of Scrap.

"Get creative!" yelled back the voice. "Cause the next one is goin' in yore head!"

They're clearly running out of patience.

What are you going to do?

Do you want to read a sitch?

Drat. The ol' Scrapscallion wit tended to work better than that. Time for the ol' Scrapscallion brains to earn their nogginspace...

[Rolling to Read a Sitch: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7 What's my best escape route?]

[Elanorin]

All the monitors grey out for a minute, before something rumbles down in the depths of the facility.

One by one, the screens in your workshop start to come back on line.

In the middle of each, is a single phrase:

"WELL PLAYED"

What do you do?

There was a gleam of satisfaction in Milliway's eyes, both her real and her prosthetic one, it glinted a menacing red as it focused on the words on the screens.

You don't. Hack. Milliway.

Well,

She returned her hooves to the floor from where she'd been crouched on the consoles like some spiderpony ready to pounce. She shook out her mane a little and sniffed.

so much for seeing Scraps' grand departure. She'd been meaning to catch a glimpse of his mule in action.

Some other time.

With an outstretched hoof she fished hold of one of the legs of her chair. It was a spectacularly ugly thing, put together from a multitude of materials and objects, only some of which appeared to have been chairs in their previous lives. It had a tall back that towered over her head, making it look a bit like a welded together throne (made of cogs, scrap, pipes and broken horseshoes), bolted down stuffing which was a pale pink and increasingly threadbare, it had armrests made out of what looked like canes, one with a griffon head and one with a lion's. But most importantly it was on six wheels allowing her to zip and zoom between her multitude of consoles, controls, panels and monitors without more effort than the off flick of a hoof.

She flopped down on it in a grumpy slumped heap, with one leg hanging over an arm rest, and sighed deeply.

"House? Damage assessment," she requested, and got comfortable. She reckoned this might take a while.

[Trying this again, Rolling Things Speak: 6+1+2=9 what’s wrong with this, and how might I fix it?]

[BlasTech]

Don't need to ask twice. Out! Out! I need a specialist! I don't care if you have to destroy this pile of worthless garbage, just take us away from the ponies with guns!

Open Your Brain: 11

A spirit enters your brain, bringing with it a sudden rush of images: a cigarette, stubble and a old, weather-beaten orange baseball cap. You also get the feeling that you should be wearing a pair of dark blue denim overalls and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Your hooves tingle, as you survey the grav-projector. It can be made to work again, we have the technology, but it will mean scavenging parts from some of the other critical subsystems of the ship. (Navigation, the thrusters, etc.). It's not going to be a fast job, nor an easy one, but the guy in your head swears that it can be done. He'll even refill the washer fluid for free.

Unfortunately, it means you'll have to crawl out of your hiding space eventually. What do you do?


Drat. The ol' Scrapscallion wit tended to work better than that. Time for the ol' Scrapscallion brains to earn their nogginspace...

[Rolling to Read a Sitch: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7 What's my best escape route?]

These guys are deliberately shooting to warn, not kill. The must have a reason they didn't just blast you right off, particularly if they want to steal your ship.

They probably want to talk, but they want you to stick around long enough for them to do it. Your best bet might actually be negotiation.

Oh, by the way, Paddy has finished loading up and is about to open a can of shotfun on these guys - he might just get himself killed while doing it.

What do you do?


"House? Damage assessment," she requested, and got comfortable. She reckoned this might take a while.

[Trying this again, Rolling Things Speak: 6+1+2=9 what’s wrong with this, and how might I fix it?]

House doesn't reply.

In fact, when you tap the consoles a bit to bring up a diagnostic, a large chunk of data is no longer in your systems. It didn't comprise of any of your research, which was what the hacker seemed to be after, but instead seems to have come from the anomalous chunk of information that you've always assumed was part of House's personality.

In short, he's gone. Sucked out into the electronic ether. If you want things back to normal operations, you're going to have to track him down first.

The crystal heart also looks a bit off. Its colour is wan, and flickered with a sickly yellow glow. It must have used a bit of power up in the counterattack. Hopefully it will recover in time, but for now most of your grunt and automated systems are going to be running on low power.

The workshop seems eerily silent. Just you, the occasional creak of machinery, and the two words burning on the screen in front of you.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

A spirit enters your brain, bringing with it a sudden rush of images: a cigarette, stubble and a old, weather-beaten orange baseball cap. You also get the feeling that you should be wearing a pair of dark blue denim overalls and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Your hooves tingle, as you survey the grav-projector. It can be made to work again, we have the technology, but it will mean scavenging parts from some of the other critical subsystems of the ship. (Navigation, the thrusters, etc.). It's not going to be a fast job, nor an easy one, but the guy in your head swears that it can be done. He'll even refill the washer fluid for free.

Unfortunately, it means you'll have to crawl out of your hiding space eventually. What do you do?

Just so you know, the Scrapscallion keeps a few spare parts in the back hold. He's not dumb enough to go out driving without a spare tire, if you catch my drift. He can't carry fresh parts for everything, but he's got a good stash of things what normally break.

Luminark may not know this, but he might just find them if he goes rooting around.


These guys are deliberately shooting to warn, not kill. The must have a reason they didn't just blast you right off, particularly if they want to steal your ship.

They probably want to talk, but they want you to stick around long enough for them to do it. Your best bet might actually be negotiation.

Oh, by the way, Paddy has finished loading up and is about to open a can of shotfun on these guys - he might just get himself killed while doing it.

What do you do?

Huh. That's not a bad idea. Good job, brain!

"Alright, alright. Jeez, tough crowd." The Scrapscallion carefully picked up his revolver, plopped it on the ground, and took a deliberate step away from it. Which, conveniently enough, took him right into Paddy's line of sight. "So what do you want with me and this paddy wagon? Hold up with the shooting, and maybe we could help each other, y'dig?" He flashed the goons a charming smile, but shook his head as he spoke a certain few words with emphasis:

Paddy Wagon. Hold up with the shooting.

[Balmas]

Well, my initial response was going to be that this guy is lazy as all get out, so maybe not. But then again, you're the hardholder and this is your hold so I figure you have a better pulse than I on what's going on.

Whatever the case with what he's up to, Bones looks suitably rattled.

"No need for that ma'am!" he replies, crisply enough that you realise you've managed to cut through his hangover.

"Um, details, details. Well, she was killed by a serrated blade, at a guess at least six inches in length. She's been dead for about a day, rigor mortis has set in but she never progressed to the bloat phase despite the location in which she was found - which I understand was in a trash compactor. I didn't both- I mean, the toxicology reports will be complete within an hour ma'am, blood tests too. Just in case. I'll bring the information to you as soon as it's ready."

Bones was in a flurry, and he kept talking as he pulled a file out from under his desk. It looked like it hadn't even been opened before.

"Parents deceased. One through an experiment gone wrong, one killed by the Frie- uh, died in an administrative incident. Cousin to a half dozen ponies in here, through her mother's sister ... no surprises given how interbre- I mean, how contained our community is."

"Administrative accidents are terrible tragedies that affect us all," Starlight allowed. "I do wish I had more to work with, but I suppose I shall have to make do."

[Spending one hold: What does Bones intend to do?]

[BlasTech]

"Administrative accidents are terrible tragedies that affect us all," Starlight allowed. "I do wish I had more to work with, but I suppose I shall have to make do."

[Spending one hold: What does Bones intend to do?]

Heh, now it's my turn to answer a question with another question! In this case, Glims, the question is: Just how scary are you right now?

Roll a Go Aggro to find out. To make the threat stick.



Huh. That's not a bad idea. Good job, brain!

"Alright, alright. Jeez, tough crowd." The Scrapscallion carefully picked up his revolver, plopped it on the ground, and took a deliberate step away from it. Which, conveniently enough, took him right into Paddy's line of sight. "So what do you want with me and this paddy wagon? Hold up with the shooting, and maybe we could help each other, y'dig?" He flashed the goons a charming smile, but shook his head as he spoke a certain few words with emphasis:

Paddy Wagon. Hold up with the shooting.

Paddy gets the hint. He doesn't look too happy about it, but the giant pony sidles a little bit further back inside the Peregrine.

Anyway, you're exposed here and trying to negotiate with a bunch of hidden shooters. Sounds like you're trying to manipulate them into not shooting you. Roll Hot!

[Balmas]

Heh, now it's my turn to answer a question with another question! In this case, Glims, the question is: Just how scary are you right now?

Roll a Go Aggro to find out. To make the threat stick.

Surely you're not suggesting that I'd need to resort to ruling by fear to get what I want? All of my little ponies love me!
https://derpicdn.net/img/2016/2/22/1094037/large.png
[roll0]

[TheAmishPirate]

Paddy gets the hint. He doesn't look too happy about it, but the giant pony sidles a little bit further back inside the Peregrine.

Anyway, you're exposed here and trying to negotiate with a bunch of hidden shooters. Sounds like you're trying to manipulate them into not shooting you. Roll Hot!

This'll go well.

[Rolled 1 + 2 + 1 = 4. Though, do I have to roll Manipulation to get them to talk/not shoot me if that's what they wanted to do in the first place?]

[Thanqol]

A spirit enters your brain, bringing with it a sudden rush of images: a cigarette, stubble and a old, weather-beaten orange baseball cap. You also get the feeling that you should be wearing a pair of dark blue denim overalls and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Your hooves tingle, as you survey the grav-projector. It can be made to work again, we have the technology, but it will mean scavenging parts from some of the other critical subsystems of the ship. (Navigation, the thrusters, etc.). It's not going to be a fast job, nor an easy one, but the guy in your head swears that it can be done. He'll even refill the washer fluid for free.

Unfortunately, it means you'll have to crawl out of your hiding space eventually. What do you do?


Just so you know, the Scrapscallion keeps a few spare parts in the back hold. He's not dumb enough to go out driving without a spare tire, if you catch my drift. He can't carry fresh parts for everything, but he's got a good stash of things what normally break.

Luminark may not know this, but he might just find them if he goes rooting around.

Luminark is going to tap into his finely honed unicorn senses, allow his magical awareness to help him pinpoint the location of everypony, and chart a precise and elegant route to the back hold which gets him seen by nopony.

Read a Sitch: 5

[Elanorin]

House doesn't reply.

In fact, when you tap the consoles a bit to bring up a diagnostic, a large chunk of data is no longer in your systems. It didn't comprise of any of your research, which was what the hacker seemed to be after, but instead seems to have come from the anomalous chunk of information that you've always assumed was part of House's personality.

In short, he's gone. Sucked out into the electronic ether. If you want things back to normal operations, you're going to have to track him down first.

The crystal heart also looks a bit off. Its colour is wan, and flickered with a sickly yellow glow. It must have used a bit of power up in the counterattack. Hopefully it will recover in time, but for now most of your grunt and automated systems are going to be running on low power.

The workshop seems eerily silent. Just you, the occasional creak of machinery, and the two words burning on the screen in front of you.

What do you do?

Milliway's jaw drops open as she spots the massive gap of data.

House.

She slowly sits back in her chair as it all sinks in. One by one the gears kick in to motion in her mind and she starts to piece information together. Did not Scrapper spend an unusual amount of time hovering at her door for seemingly no good reason at all earlier? Did he not blatantly eye up her workshop and, in particular, the Crystal Heart?

Milliway's eyes narrowed dangerously as it finally fell to place who had been behind this.

"Scrapstallion," she muttered darkly, before getting up and heading straight for whatever hovel he called home.

[BlasTech]

Surely you're not suggesting that I'd need to resort to ruling by fear to get what I want? All of my little ponies love me!
https://derpicdn.net/img/2016/2/22/1094037/large.png
[roll0]

Yikes ... that's a face that only a mother could- oh hello Glimmer!

Well, with that sorted, the answer to your question is pretty clear. Bones is going to write that report. He'll do all the tests he can think of and he'll get them done in record time. All t's dotted and all i's crossed. You can bet on it.

Nobody wants to argue with such a pretty face.


This'll go well.

[Rolled 1 + 2 + 1 = 4. Though, do I have to roll Manipulation to get them to talk/not shoot me if that's what they wanted to do in the first place?]


Luminark is going to tap into his finely honed unicorn senses, allow his magical awareness to help him pinpoint the location of everypony, and chart a precise and elegant route to the back hold which gets him seen by nopony.

Read a Sitch: 5

Yikes, double fail.

Well, in this case, Luminark, your fail here is not accounting for the presence of a jumpy, well armed, Friendship patrolpony. You manage to get the cargo door open and into the hold before Paddy's voice rings out behind you.

"THEY'RE SNEAKIN' IN THE BACK!"

You look up just in time to register the shotgun before it belches fire and pain.

[That'll be 3-harm, and a harm roll]

Scraps, the yelling and the sudden shooting does wonders for your negotiating position. In fact, while Paddy is gunning down your intruder, he silhouettes himself in the doorway of the Peregrine. He spins towards the outside, shotgun firing wildly in the general direction of the ponies you've been talking to.

There's a crack , the splatter of blood against the wall, and he's down on the ground.

Out in the open where you are, there's not much you can do before another shot smacks into you as well.

[take 2 harm and make a harm roll]


Milliway's jaw drops open as she spots the massive gap of data.

House.

She slowly sits back in her chair as it all sinks in. One by one the gears kick in to motion in her mind and she starts to piece information together. Did not Scrapper spend an unusual amount of time hovering at her door for seemingly no good reason at all earlier? Did he not blatantly eye up her workshop and, in particular, the Crystal Heart?

Milliway's eyes narrowed dangerously as it finally fell to place who had been behind this.

"Scrapstallion," she muttered darkly, before getting up and heading straight for whatever hovel he called home.

Scrap's place? Sounds cool. I wonder what it's like?

Well, that'd definitely be a good question to ask the pony himself (assuming he's still alive).

Scraps, where do you hang your hat at night? What's it like and what will Milliway find when she gets there?

[TheAmishPirate]

Yikes, double fail.

Well, in this case, Luminark, your fail here is not accounting for the presence of a jumpy, well armed, Friendship patrolpony. You manage to get the cargo door open and into the hold before Paddy's voice rings out behind you.

"THEY'RE SNEAKIN' IN THE BACK!"

You look up just in time to register the shotgun before it belches fire and pain.

[That'll be 3-harm, and a harm roll]

Scraps, the yelling and the sudden shooting does wonders for your negotiating position. In fact, while Paddy is gunning down your intruder, he silhouettes himself in the doorway of the Peregrine. He spins towards the outside, shotgun firing wildly in the general direction of the ponies you've been talking to.

There's a crack , the splatter of blood against the wall, and he's down on the ground.

Out in the open where you are, there's not much you can do before another shot smacks into you as well.

[take 2 harm and make a harm roll]

The Scrapscallion was moving before the first bang faded, scooping up his revolver and making a diving leap for the relative safety of the cockpit. Even so, he wasn't fast enough to keep a bullet from winging his shoulder on the way.

[2 Harm - 1 Armor = +1 Harm. 6 + 6 + 1 = 13 :smalleek:]


Scrap's place? Sounds cool. I wonder what it's like?

Well, that'd definitely be a good question to ask the pony himself (assuming he's still alive).

Scraps, where do you hang your hat at night? What's it like and what will Milliway find when she gets there?

So, remember the Hangar?


Of course it's on the surface. Don't get me wrong; I love tunnel drives. Barreling headlong into the dark, headlights only reaching far enough to see the next stalagmite, death just a moment's hesitation away, mmmmmm! There's nothing like it. Of course, you don't find many ponies or science-y crap down there. Unless you count the skeletons. But the best pickings are on the surface, so that's where my roads lead.

The surface level of the bunker has these huge hangars, back from the war days. I think they used to hold airships, maybe tanks, maybe both. (Ohhhhhhhh baby. If I got my hooves on one of those...) Anyway, they got lots of open space, and gates leading to the outside, so it's the perfect place to stash my bike. And my tools. And my replacement parts. And a hammock for hanging out, if you know what I mean. Whenever I want to make a run, I radio one of the control rooms, and they open the gates for me. There's layers of them, see. One for the hangar, one for the main walls, and one for the outer fences. Good for keeping out unwanted pests, bad when you're coming in hot.

Turns out when the Princess says there's no room for a pony like Scraps in her organization, she means it real literal-like. The Hangar is as much home to the Scrapscallion as it is to his bike. It's not much, but then again, when you spend as much time out on the road as he does, you don't need all that much, do you?

Without the Peregrine there, it's considerably more empty than when we last saw it. A fair number of the replacement parts and tools are gone, currently stowed in the Peregrine's cargo hold. (It's thanks to Goops that there's anything left there at all.) There's a hammock tied off between a workbench and the wall, with a slightly bigger hammock tucked away for when he's got himself a guest to cuddle. There's some driving goggles, some vests, some blah blah blah blah you're not here for the easy stuff, are you? No no no, you're here hunting secrets.

So. Here's what you find.

First, nestled behind the workbench is an old shoebox with what appears to be a hundreds of paper clips, a few dozen pens and pencils, and a desk toy engraved with the name "Bumper Crop."

Second, tucked in the back of a drawer is an odd pile of knick-knacks. A rock worn smooth, a silver key, a charred bit of crumpled metal, an empty bottle of Sparkle Cola, and a color picture of a Vertibuck in full flight.

Third, hidden behind a bit of wall paneling, is a scrap of paper. With a little work, it can be unfolded and the wrinkles smoothed out. It's covered in a mass of scribbles and crossed-out words, all completely illegible to the naked eye. But at the top, you can clearly read,

"Deer Miliwey"

[Thanqol]

Yikes, double fail.

Well, in this case, Luminark, your fail here is not accounting for the presence of a jumpy, well armed, Friendship patrolpony. You manage to get the cargo door open and into the hold before Paddy's voice rings out behind you.

"THEY'RE SNEAKIN' IN THE BACK!"

You look up just in time to register the shotgun before it belches fire and pain.

[That'll be 3-harm, and a harm roll]

[After 2 armour marking 1 harm, harm roll: 8 Question: Which enemy is the biggest threat?]

This was literally the worst pain anypony in the history of the cosmos had ever experienced. Ever. He'd been shot! He'd been shoooooooooooot!!!! The only thing that kept Luminark even slightly together was his brain closing off unimportant pain-circuit processors to contemplate the far more important question of 'who's fault is this'.

[BlasTech]

The Scrapscallion was moving before the first bang faded, scooping up his revolver and making a diving leap for the relative safety of the cockpit. Even so, he wasn't fast enough to keep a bullet from winging his shoulder on the way.

[2 Harm - 1 Armor = +1 Harm. 6 + 6 + 1 = 13 :smalleek:]

Well the bullet clips you on the shoulder, and the force of it smacks your head into the side of the Peregrine.

You slip into the dark black of unconsciousness.

Tell me about your dreams.


[After 2 armour marking 1 harm, harm roll: 8 Question: Which enemy is the biggest threat?]

This was literally the worst pain anypony in the history of the cosmos had ever experienced. Ever. He'd been shot! He'd been shoooooooooooot!!!! The only thing that kept Luminark even slightly together was his brain closing off unimportant pain-circuit processors to contemplate the far more important question of 'who's fault is this'.

Is it a bit trite to say "yourselves" here? What with all the stowaway and sneaking, you've done more damage to each other than the unnamed ponies that had been shooting at you.

That said, from the way the shots landed, its clear that the sniper (whoever it is) is the main threat. They're hidden, have a decent gun, and from the way he or she was toying with Scraps, are a pretty decent shot.

Anyway, the pain of Paddy's blast is so great that it sends you stumbling backwards out of the cargo compartment and into the dirt outside. By the time you've blinked your eyes clear, a pony is walking towards you, holding an old combat shotgun. The thing is rickety enough that it looks like it might explode if fired, and the pony himself is wearing what are best described as "pre-apocalypse vintage beggar", in the sense that his clothes look several hundred years old and that they'd have belonged on the street long before that.

You're in the open here. What do you do?

[Balmas]

Yikes ... that's a face that only a mother could- oh hello Glimmer!

Well, with that sorted, the answer to your question is pretty clear. Bones is going to write that report. He'll do all the tests he can think of and he'll get them done in record time. All t's dotted and all i's crossed. You can bet on it.

Nobody wants to argue with such a pretty face.

Exactly. And the jury decided all those ponies who disappeared after disagreeing with me was just a series of unfortunate accidents. it was even unanimous, after those three jurors got assigned to to a long exploratory journey outside.

And just one more question, before I leave. What does Bones wish I'd do?

Content that Bones is going to do his job for once, I head to talk to my heads of security. I think Protection Racket would know about the dead mare, right? Where's he at when I find him?

[Thanqol]

Is it a bit trite to say "yourselves" here? What with all the stowaway and sneaking, you've done more damage to each other than the unnamed ponies that had been shooting at you.

Now now, it's not entirely fair to pin all the blame on Scrapscullery. Miliway deserves some blame too. But that's all right, you're thinking along the right lines, it's probably the best that your little mind can do.


That said, from the way the shots landed, its clear that the sniper (whoever it is) is the main threat. They're hidden, have a decent gun, and from the way he or she was toying with Scraps, are a pretty decent shot.

Anyway, the pain of Paddy's blast is so great that it sends you stumbling backwards out of the cargo compartment and into the dirt outside. By the time you've blinked your eyes clear, a pony is walking towards you, holding an old combat shotgun. The thing is rickety enough that it looks like it might explode if fired, and the pony himself is wearing what are best described as "pre-apocalypse vintage beggar", in the sense that his clothes look several hundred years old and that they'd have belonged on the street long before that.

You're in the open here. What do you do?

I knew I should have packed a weapon when I went out into the wasteland, thought Luminark.

(Luminark did not know this. He is lying to divert attention from the fact that he legitimately forgot that he doesn't have any actual weapons. He doesn't even have a particularly menacing combat spell.)

So he takes the only appropriate course of action and - calmly and reasonably - announces his surrender.

[Elanorin]

Turns out when the Princess says there's no room for a pony like Scraps in her organization, she means it real literal-like. The Hangar is as much home to the Scrapscallion as it is to his bike. It's not much, but then again, when you spend as much time out on the road as he does, you don't need all that much, do you?

Without the Peregrine there, it's considerably more empty than when we last saw it. A fair number of the replacement parts and tools are gone, currently stowed in the Peregrine's cargo hold. (It's thanks to Goops that there's anything left there at all.) There's a hammock tied off between a workbench and the wall, with a slightly bigger hammock tucked away for when he's got himself a guest to cuddle. There's some driving goggles, some vests, some blah blah blah blah you're not here for the easy stuff, are you? No no no, you're here hunting secrets.

So. Here's what you find.

First, nestled behind the workbench is an old shoebox with what appears to be a hundreds of paper clips, a few dozen pens and pencils, and a desk toy engraved with the name "Bumper Crop."

Second, tucked in the back of a drawer is an odd pile of knick-knacks. A rock worn smooth, a silver key, a charred bit of crumpled metal, an empty bottle of Sparkle Cola, and a color picture of a Vertibuck in full flight.

Third, hidden behind a bit of wall paneling, is a scrap of paper. With a little work, it can be unfolded and the wrinkles smoothed out. It's covered in a mass of scribbles and crossed-out words, all completely illegible to the naked eye. But at the top, you can clearly read,

"Deer Miliwey"

Hmh.

Milliway fought the urge to just wire together a quick explosion and blow the place up. But as satisfying as the blast would be it was too quick, too easy. The loss of House demanded much greater retribution than just the charring of some meagre earthly possessions. He wasn't even here to be blown up with it.

She poked the various objects, among them the letter was potentially the most disturbing and it quickly got folded up and tucked away in a hinge of her metal leg brace.

A hoof prodded the silver key tentatively, before picking it up and holding it up in whatever light reached the corners of this... hangar. She blew a puff of breath at it and she felt it hit the small metal object, her ears pricked and she could hear how the gentle air resonated as it hit the angles, lines and curves of the key.

[Rolling Things Speak on the silver key: 4+3+2=9 what words have been said most recently nearby this?]

[TheAmishPirate]

Well the bullet clips you on the shoulder, and the force of it smacks your head into the side of the Peregrine.

You slip into the dark black of unconsciousness.

Tell me about your dreams.

It's sunny out. Manehatten is bustling. Ponies kissing their wives goodbye as they leave for work, kids scampering off to school, shops opening up for the day. All clean and tidy like it is in the pictures. The Scrapscallion sees all this, because The Scrapscallion is lying on the sidewalk, watching the crowds. Nopony's paying any attention to him. Nopony even sees him. They don't even have the dignity to step on him.

So. He swipes a pony's purse. Then everypony's watching him. Chasing him. Blocking exits as he dashes inside. Shaking their hooves in anger as he makes a daring rooftop escape. Following him in Vertibucks. Cursing when he dives into the river. Combing the banks for him. On and on and on it goes, staying one step ahead of the law and thrilling crowds and cops alike. It's a good dream.

Oh, and everything's in black-and-white. The Scrapscallion hasn't dreamed in color for as long as he can remember.

[BlasTech]

Exactly. And the jury decided all those ponies who disappeared after disagreeing with me was just a series of unfortunate accidents. it was even unanimous, after those three jurors got assigned to to a long exploratory journey outside.

And just one more question, before I leave. What does Bones wish I'd do?

Content that Bones is going to do his job for once, I head to talk to my heads of security. I think Protection Racket would know about the dead mare, right? Where's he at when I find him?

You see it in Bones' eyes as you're leaving. A momentary flash of relief, spite and ... happiness. You're giving him what he wants, in a small way.

We wants you to go away. You, the friendship goon squad, the scientists that are always bothering him, basically anypony else around him that interferes with his grand plans of drinking himself to nothingness and wasting away time down here doing whatever he feels like.

Anyway, you go looking for Protection Racket, and it's not long before you find him. In fact, he's been looking for you.

"Ma'am, glad to find you." he says, saluting with a hoof big enough to punch through walls. "We've had a bit of a situation in the databanks. Looks like somepony hacked them and fried two of our server towers."



I knew I should have packed a weapon when I went out into the wasteland, thought Luminark.

(Luminark did not know this. He is lying to divert attention from the fact that he legitimately forgot that he doesn't have any actual weapons. He doesn't even have a particularly menacing combat spell.)

So he takes the only appropriate course of action and - calmly and reasonably - announces his surrender.

The shotgun toting pony just grabs you and roughly hauls you to your hooves. Forcing you away from the Peregrine and into the ruins.

Now, the first question to ask here is, what are you going to do? Anything tricky? Or are you just going to go with the flow?


It's sunny out. Manehatten is bustling. Ponies kissing their wives goodbye as they leave for work, kids scampering off to school, shops opening up for the day. All clean and tidy like it is in the pictures. The Scrapscallion sees all this, because The Scrapscallion is lying on the sidewalk, watching the crowds. Nopony's paying any attention to him. Nopony even sees him. They don't even have the dignity to step on him.

So. He swipes a pony's purse. Then everypony's watching him. Chasing him. Blocking exits as he dashes inside. Shaking their hooves in anger as he makes a daring rooftop escape. Following him in Vertibucks. Cursing when he dives into the river. Combing the banks for him. On and on and on it goes, staying one step ahead of the law and thrilling crowds and cops alike. It's a good dream.

Oh, and everything's in black-and-white. The Scrapscallion hasn't dreamed in color for as long as he can remember.

Manehatten has been a ruin for as long as any of you ponies have been alive.

How does Scraps know what it looks like? Has he seen something somewhere, or is this just his monochrome imagination at play?


Hmh.

Milliway fought the urge to just wire together a quick explosion and blow the place up. But as satisfying as the blast would be it was too quick, too easy. The loss of House demanded much greater retribution than just the charring of some meagre earthly possessions. He wasn't even here to be blown up with it.

She poked the various objects, among them the letter was potentially the most disturbing and it quickly got folded up and tucked away in a hinge of her metal leg brace.

A hoof prodded the silver key tentatively, before picking it up and holding it up in whatever light reached the corners of this... hangar. She blew a puff of breath at it and she felt it hit the small metal object, her ears pricked and she could hear how the gentle air resonated as it hit the angles, lines and curves of the key.

[Rolling Things Speak on the silver key: 4+3+2=9 what words have been said most recently nearby this?]

This sounds like a question for Scraps! Over to you, pony.