[MLP] Cloudbreak II: Towards the sun

[Elanorin]

There's a moment of silence, and you get the distinct impression that you've caught him off guard.

"Is that, something you can really do?" he asks.

What do you say?

Milliway looked at her hooves, metal clad and far better at dishing out punches and unconsciousness than she ever really thought she'd be. They used to be good at running. Hiding. Making things. Hot-fusing trag converters and stripping wires. Things were different now. But she could still remember the feeling of electrical current buzzing through her hoof cuffs whenever she tripped up and got herself the Bad Mane Day from hell. It wasn't even that long ago.

Still... a lot had happened since then.

"I used to," she said. "I made stuff. All the time."

"I'd like to try. Maybe I don't have to make it, maybe... maybe we can... I don't know... find one."

"But do you want one? Because... this shouldn't be about me. I like you either way."

[Balmas]

Other ghouls poke their heads out of the rubble, eyeing you with something approaching apprehension and curiosity.

What do you do as you walk through this township? Do you strike up a conversation, or do you try to scope out the area?

Believe it or not, Starlight is a charming individual. You don't manage to hold onto control of a bunker full of mad scientists by not picking up a few social cues, after all. Right now, she is something new, something strange. The sooner they view her as a helpful naif, the sooner they'll stop watching her like a hawk and the sooner she can snatch what she wants and scoot out of her.

So, for now, she's all smiles, waves, hellos, every inch the regal princess ambassador come to visit. What she wants to do is find the absolutely most wretched pony of the group, and do everything she can to help them. After all, if that's the way she treats old Burgerhoof, wretch among wretches, just think of how she'll treat the people who think they're actually worth something!

[BlasTech]

Luminark, like any unicorn in his situation, tried to raise the sun.

It did not matter that he had never seen it! That wasn't the point! The point was that it was possible that you were the re-incarnation of a perfect pony princess unless proven pedestrian, so he'd filled his room with diagrams of the sun and all the books he could get regarding sun-related things, and a little monitor for the solar mana collectors on the rooftop. He'd drawn all the protective rituals and circles in clumsy foal handwriting. He'd taken a deep breath. He'd given his blank flank a meaningful and determined look. And then he'd started to cast the spell.

It had resulted in an absolute splitting headache and a wailing, tear-eyed run to mom. It was bad enough that he wasn't a princess, it didn't need that much pain to go with it! Frankly it was unfair and terrible and he hated the sun for being so mean.

But he remembered, if fearfully, the connection. The heat and weight and immensity. The feeling like the whole world was balancing on the tip of his horn and he just needed to let the magic run down and around the spiral grooves. Magic was always something to flinch from that day onwards to Luminark, and he couldn't quite conceal his tremble as he began to tap into it.

[Open Your Brain: 8]

Threads, threads. Weaving a fabulous tapestry. One of a kind.
The many interweave, four tens and two, each awaiting a grasp to put them into place.
Each one with a home.
Where is your home, my little pony?
Is it in the fifteenth second of the fall?
Is it in the twentieth facet of hell?
Or does your safe harbour lie in between?

What do you do?

How's this for a signal?

All those losers out there, guarding their dumb base or whatever. Pop quiz! What's the one thing they're not looking at? Did you say 'their dumb base?' Ding ding ding, we have a winner! You've solved the mystery of "why these dumb losers are dumb and losers and bad at their jobs, which is great for The Scrapscallion, and anybody the Scrapscallion is currently chilling with." Your prize is: You get to watch the Scrapscallion dunk on a few more of these dumbos.

It's easy. He and the Pegasus are gonna just make their way through the ranks, conga-line style, zapping or punching guards as need be. And since they're all looking out there, they won't notice what's going on until it's their turn to be zapped. And if anything goes wrong, there's a bunch of Rangers out there ready to pick up the slack.

[Not sure if this requires another Act Under Fire, but if it does: 1 + 4 + 3 = 8]

Well, as far as plans go it's an - acceptable one?

I mean, sure - you keep sneaking through the base, leaving a trail of unconscious guards and full broom closets in your wake (why does this place have so many of those, anyway?). With the alarms and the perimeter alerted you're making good progress, carting the boxes of prisoners right behind you as you near the quietest edge of the base. Behind the brightly lit airfield, where many eyes were no doubt turned, and nothing else between you and the perimeter fence.

Up until, that is, you encounter a patrol of three in a non-descript corridor. With the exit just up ahead and a clear run to freedom after that, you and the Pegasus both stomp on one a piece and back-hoof the third with the shock stick. He stumbles, trips over his own tail, and then topples through a pair of swinging double-doors.

Which open up to a mess hall, crowded with pegasi.

The doors swing open.

You stare at them.

The doors swing shut, then open again.

They stare at you.

The doors swing shut, then open again.

Somepony, somewhere, drops their fork with a clatter that echoes awkwardly around the room.

What do you do?

Milliway looked at her hooves, metal clad and far better at dishing out punches and unconsciousness than she ever really thought she'd be. They used to be good at running. Hiding. Making things. Hot-fusing trag converters and stripping wires. Things were different now. But she could still remember the feeling of electrical current buzzing through her hoof cuffs whenever she tripped up and got herself the Bad Mane Day from hell. It wasn't even that long ago.

Still... a lot had happened since then.

"I used to," she said. "I made stuff. All the time."

"I'd like to try. Maybe I don't have to make it, maybe... maybe we can... I don't know... find one."

"But do you want one? Because... this shouldn't be about me. I like you either way."

Oh, it shouldn't be about you, Milliway, but it definitely is.

That feel of electricity? The ability to draw forth inspiration and translate that into reality?

That was the old Milliway. Back from the days before you became the Lieutenant. Before you became the Librarian.

Before you put on your mask.

If there's any part of you that still remembers that, you will need to remember it to be able to do this yourself. I mean, you can try asking the science department, you can try searching the wastelands … but what's the real likelihood of success of that path? You need to build a robot - that's nothing big by itself - but to make it more than just a drone on a leash, to make it House? You'll need something or somepony who can work miracles with matter and machines.

Somepony like the old Milliway.

While you're thinking about this, House replies.

"Hey, it's okay. I like you either way too Milliway." replies House. "And don't get me wrong, having a real body would be great and all. But it's not necessary, and I'm sure you've got more important matters to worry about right now."

You don't even need to know him that well to be able to hear the lie in his voice at the end there.

What do you do?

Believe it or not, Starlight is a charming individual. You don't manage to hold onto control of a bunker full of mad scientists by not picking up a few social cues, after all. Right now, she is something new, something strange. The sooner they view her as a helpful naif, the sooner they'll stop watching her like a hawk and the sooner she can snatch what she wants and scoot out of her.

So, for now, she's all smiles, waves, hellos, every inch the regal princess ambassador come to visit. What she wants to do is find the absolutely most wretched pony of the group, and do everything she can to help them. After all, if that's the way she treats old Burgerhoof, wretch among wretches, just think of how she'll treat the people who think they're actually worth something!

Well, fortunately, Burgerhoof isn't in too bad a place by wretch standards. I mean, sure, he smells a bit, and hasn't been able to hold down a job for a couple of years now, but his next gig is sure to get him out of this rut. He just needs a bit of time and any caps that a generous pony such as yourself can spare.

I mean, being an immortal ghoul also makes it easier - the cost of living is a bit more abstract when you're not really living y'know?

That said, it becomes quickly clear that the ponies all look to your chaperone - the folksy-talking ghoul that let you in and has been following you around ever since - for guidance. Win him over, and the others will take his vote of confidence in you as a reason not to watch you as closely.

Go ahead and make your move.

[Balmas]

Well, fortunately, Burgerhoof isn't in too bad a place by wretch standards. I mean, sure, he smells a bit, and hasn't been able to hold down a job for a couple of years now, but his next gig is sure to get him out of this rut. He just needs a bit of time and any caps that a generous pony such as yourself can spare.

I mean, being an immortal ghoul also makes it easier - the cost of living is a bit more abstract when you're not really living y'know?

That said, it becomes quickly clear that the ponies all look to your chaperone - the folksy-talking ghoul that let you in and has been following you around ever since - for guidance. Win him over, and the others will take his vote of confidence in you as a reason not to watch you as closely.

Go ahead and make your move.

"You have a,"--think quickly, Starlight--"lovely settlement." She's watching the ghoul like a hawk, but trying to appear like she's watching him like a child--full of wonderment and joy and totally not pricing out which bits of scrap would make the best science project. "Now, you said you have a few problems that a pony of my status could help with? Don't know whether I caught your name, what's your name?":

[Read a pony: 10. What is he thinking? How could I get him to give me what I need to make a hunter-killer bot? Hold 1.]

[Elanorin]

Oh, it shouldn't be about you, Milliway, but it definitely is.

That feel of electricity? The ability to draw forth inspiration and translate that into reality?

That was the old Milliway. Back from the days before you became the Lieutenant. Before you became the Librarian.

Before you put on your mask.

If there's any part of you that still remembers that, you will need to remember it to be able to do this yourself. I mean, you can try asking the science department, you can try searching the wastelands … but what's the real likelihood of success of that path? You need to build a robot - that's nothing big by itself - but to make it more than just a drone on a leash, to make it House? You'll need something or somepony who can work miracles with matter and machines.

Somepony like the old Milliway.

While you're thinking about this, House replies.

"Hey, it's okay. I like you either way too Milliway." replies House. "And don't get me wrong, having a real body would be great and all. But it's not necessary, and I'm sure you've got more important matters to worry about right now."

You don't even need to know him that well to be able to hear the lie in his voice at the end there.

What do you do?

Stew.

The realisation hits with the momentum of an unstoppable force that just keeps coming at her. How everything she'd done had taken her so far away from herself. Just how much she had changed, not to mention how much change she had brought to the bunker and the ponies around her. Was it for the better? Was this bunker mid mutiny/civil a better place than where it had been a year or two ago? Was she better? She'd finally won against Luminark and not only socked him one of the most satisfying gut-punches in history but seen him removed from the world entirely. Was that for the better? Was finally achieving the Library Assistant post and rearranging the whole thing, purging it of Magic, was that making the Library better?

Or had she just lashed out so hard against her feeling of being trapped that she'd not only broken free but wrecked everything around her in the process? Gone from building to destroying.

She could probably put together a robot if she really tried but yeah... it would just be a walking toaster. To make it the physical body of a fully aware AI, with the ability to completely mimic life, give him the ability to move in the world on equal terms to any biological pony... hell, she'd need more than a revival of her old memories and the naïve conviction that because she wanted to be able to do something it was possible - she'd need her workshop in its best shape. More than that, probably. It was in a horrendous state now, if it was even there at all anymore. They'd shoved everything to the back when they'd taken it as her patrol HQ. Her squads had looted it for material to make weapons. It was not only in disarray, it was depleted, disorganised and probably trashed.

She'd have to somehow make it out of this mutiny thing alive. Renounce this job. Somehow find a replacement Library Assistant - and who in Equestria could ever fill those shoes? She wasn't so sure she filled them all that well herself and she was now the Smartest Pony here by a long shot. Then she'd have to boot out the troops of their HQ somehow, that might be possible if they still hold any respect for her authority. Then she'd have to restore her workshop, reorganise all of what may remain, figure out a way to resupply. That meant reliable shipments from Outside with a flexible attitude to rules and legal import processes. Essentially that meant finding another Scrapscallion, because let's face it, he wasn't coming back here ever again. The most she could hope for was that he relayed her message to the Princess, any lingering goodwill that may still exist with him would perhaps buy her that, but no more. With all that in place then... then she could perhaps start such a project.

"Nothing's ever been more important to me than you, House." Milliway's voice is low and full of shame. "I just... got lost... and I took you for granted. I'm..." she swallowed hard, "sorry."

"Something is wrong and I can tell. Maybe that's been the case for a long time and I should have noticed sooner, but I'm here now. Is a body the thing that you need? Is there something else? Please tell me. I want to make this right. If I get just one thing right I want it to be you."

[TheAmishPirate]

Well, as far as plans go it's an - acceptable one?

I mean, sure - you keep sneaking through the base, leaving a trail of unconscious guards and full broom closets in your wake (why does this place have so many of those, anyway?). With the alarms and the perimeter alerted you're making good progress, carting the boxes of prisoners right behind you as you near the quietest edge of the base. Behind the brightly lit airfield, where many eyes were no doubt turned, and nothing else between you and the perimeter fence.

Up until, that is, you encounter a patrol of three in a non-descript corridor. With the exit just up ahead and a clear run to freedom after that, you and the Pegasus both stomp on one a piece and back-hoof the third with the shock stick. He stumbles, trips over his own tail, and then topples through a pair of swinging double-doors.

Which open up to a mess hall, crowded with pegasi.

The doors swing open.

You stare at them.

The doors swing shut, then open again.

They stare at you.

The doors swing shut, then open again.

Somepony, somewhere, drops their fork with a clatter that echoes awkwardly around the room.

What do you do?

There comes a point in every plan’s life when it starts to look like you didn’t actually have a plan at all.

This was why the Scrapscallion never ever had a plan. Because if you don’t have a plan, then you’re going to beat the guy with the plan every time. While they’re sitting there, trying to figure out if they still have a plan, or if they need to think of a new one, you’ve already left them in the dust.

Which, hey! Sometimes that happens for reals.

The Scrapscallion stared at the dining room full of Enclave pegasi.

The doors swung shut, and opened again.

The room full of Enclave pegasi stared back.

The doors swung shut, and opened again.

The Scrapscallion...vanished into thin air?!

The doors swung shut, and opened again.

No, wait, he probably just booked it down the hallway towards the super obvious exit right over there.

And in the time it took the room full of plan-havers (whose eating plan had been completely bombed to bits) to put all that together, the Scrapscallion, the Pegasus, and their load of sneaky cargo were long gone.

[Rolling for Eye on the Door: 6 + 2 + 3 = 12. We gone!]

No plan, baby.

Works every time.

[Thanqol]

Threads, threads. Weaving a fabulous tapestry. One of a kind.
The many interweave, four tens and two, each awaiting a grasp to put them into place.
Each one with a home.
Where is your home, my little pony?
Is it in the fifteenth second of the fall?
Is it in the twentieth facet of hell?
Or does your safe harbour lie in between?

What do you do?

Where is home? It's not the bunker, that friendless and paranoid pit, or even the library - that place was always a cage for him as much as the books. It's not in his own head, even his own thoughts are drab and lifeless or even violent. It's...

For a moment it existed in the exchange of politenesses with Rarity but that was a fleeting touch of two compatible hearts. Not, yet, a home. So is that the answer? That his home doesn't exist? Because...

... If it doesn't...

... That means that all is left is to build it himself.

[BlasTech]

"You have a,"--think quickly, Starlight--"lovely settlement." She's watching the ghoul like a hawk, but trying to appear like she's watching him like a child--full of wonderment and joy and totally not pricing out which bits of scrap would make the best science project. "Now, you said you have a few problems that a pony of my status could help with? Don't know whether I caught your name, what's your name?":

[Read a pony: 10. What is he thinking? How could I get him to give me what I need to make a hunter-killer bot? Hold 1.]

Well, in case it's not bleedingly obvious from the way he keeps following you around and watching your every move - he's thinking you're possibly a threat, or at least up to something, but nothing either he or the community can't handle. He's mostly thinking of getting you to do whatever it is he wants you to do and then get out of here.

As to how you can get him to give you the parts for the hunter killer bot - the easiest is to do what he wants, or perhaps a trade of some kind. A settlement like this always has needs, but the real question is what can you, as a mutated half-melty princess pony on her own, offer them?

What do you do?

She'd have to somehow make it out of this mutiny thing alive. Renounce this job. Somehow find a replacement Library Assistant - and who in Equestria could ever fill those shoes? She wasn't so sure she filled them all that well herself and she was now the Smartest Pony here by a long shot. Then she'd have to boot out the troops of their HQ somehow, that might be possible if they still hold any respect for her authority. Then she'd have to restore her workshop, reorganise all of what may remain, figure out a way to resupply. That meant reliable shipments from Outside with a flexible attitude to rules and legal import processes. Essentially that meant finding another Scrapscallion, because let's face it, he wasn't coming back here ever again. The most she could hope for was that he relayed her message to the Princess, any lingering goodwill that may still exist with him would perhaps buy her that, but no more. With all that in place then... then she could perhaps start such a project.

"Nothing's ever been more important to me than you, House." Milliway's voice is low and full of shame. "I just... got lost... and I took you for granted. I'm..." she swallowed hard, "sorry."

"Something is wrong and I can tell. Maybe that's been the case for a long time and I should have noticed sooner, but I'm here now. Is a body the thing that you need? Is there something else? Please tell me. I want to make this right. If I get just one thing right I want it to be you."

"I … I don't know!" replies House, a bit of panic in his voice for the first time in - well, ever.

"It's like … there's something that should be here. Maybe there's something out there I need to find." he continues, struggling to compose himself "But I-I don't know what it is. It's - it's - its … Oh, I don't know how to describe it. It's like a puzzle with a piece missing, or-or an empty patch of wall where a painting used to be."

"Maybe, if you can't make a body for me, you can help me find it? I have this feeling I'll know it when I see it."

There comes a point in every plan’s life when it starts to look like you didn’t actually have a plan at all.

This was why the Scrapscallion never ever had a plan. Because if you don’t have a plan, then you’re going to beat the guy with the plan every time. While they’re sitting there, trying to figure out if they still have a plan, or if they need to think of a new one, you’ve already left them in the dust.

Which, hey! Sometimes that happens for reals.

The Scrapscallion stared at the dining room full of Enclave pegasi.

The doors swung shut, and opened again.

The room full of Enclave pegasi stared back.

The doors swung shut, and opened again.

The Scrapscallion...vanished into thin air?!

The doors swung shut, and opened again.

No, wait, he probably just booked it down the hallway towards the super obvious exit right over there.

And in the time it took the room full of plan-havers (whose eating plan had been completely bombed to bits) to put all that together, the Scrapscallion, the Pegasus, and their load of sneaky cargo were long gone.

[Rolling for Eye on the Door: 6 + 2 + 3 = 12. We gone!]

No plan, baby.

Works every time.

You're gone. In fact, you're so gone that, if this were a kids' cartoon, there would have been a Scrapscallion-shaped hole in the perimeter fence.

But this is reality, which means that by the time the Pegasi in the mess hall mobilise, they can only find a trail of broken boxes and torn fencing to show where your party exited.

Up in the hills beyond the base, you and the rest of the now-free prisoners regroup. Gulping down the cool air from your madcap dash, and resting on nearby rocks, you all get a moment of respite before your backup catches up to you.

A trio of red-painted Applejack's Rangers arrive, and before long you're all on the way back to the parked Peregine.

"- stirred up a real hornet's nest back there. Some of the Pegasi and Vertibucks took off while you were in there. Looked like they were heading back above the clouds" continues one of the Rangers, an initiate by the name of Cherry Glaze. "They looked in a hurry. Not sure where they'll head next, or when they'll be back"

The escapees start boarding the nearby transports, with Dirt and one other rag-clad pony opting to join you in the Peregrine rather than travel with the rest. One Ranger and your Pegasus companion join you, with the latter plonking down just behind your bike's chair and staring off into the sky, she's been a little quiet since you finished.

What do you do?

Where is home? It's not the bunker, that friendless and paranoid pit, or even the library - that place was always a cage for him as much as the books. It's not in his own head, even his own thoughts are drab and lifeless or even violent. It's...

For a moment it existed in the exchange of politenesses with Rarity but that was a fleeting touch of two compatible hearts. Not, yet, a home. So is that the answer? That his home doesn't exist? Because...

... If it doesn't...

... That means that all is left is to build it himself.

Well, Luminark, here you sit - magic forming in your horn, the Element of Generosity sitting across from you, guiding your flows.

Your sense of necromancy can feel … something … something which is difficult to describe.

What do you do?

[In case it wasn't clear - your OYB result (below) was in respect to what your spell-sense is showing you here.]

Threads, threads. Weaving a fabulous tapestry. One of a kind.
The many interweave, four tens and two, each awaiting a grasp to put them into place.
Each one with a home.
Where is your home, my little pony?
Is it in the fifteenth second of the fall?
Is it in the twentieth facet of hell?
Or does your safe harbour lie in between?

[Elanorin]

"I … I don't know!" replies House, a bit of panic in his voice for the first time in - well, ever.

"It's like … there's something that should be here. Maybe there's something out there I need to find." he continues, struggling to compose himself "But I-I don't know what it is. It's - it's - its … Oh, I don't know how to describe it. It's like a puzzle with a piece missing, or-or an empty patch of wall where a painting used to be."

"Maybe, if you can't make a body for me, you can help me find it? I have this feeling I'll know it when I see it."

"I can help you find... 'it', of course. When you say something is missing from 'here' is that you, that you have a piece missing? Like a string of code or, a subroutine, or something? Or do you mean The Library? Is The Library missing something?" Other than Luminark.

Please don't say Luminark.

"Or the Bunker at large is missing something?" Hell there's more than one thing missing from there, that's for sure.

"I'll help," she reassures him.

Him?

"Of course I'll help. Just... tell me how. And if you don't know then... just tell me when something comes to you. That's fine too."

[BlasTech]

Where is home? It's not the bunker, that friendless and paranoid pit, or even the library - that place was always a cage for him as much as the books. It's not in his own head, even his own thoughts are drab and lifeless or even violent. It's...

For a moment it existed in the exchange of politenesses with Rarity but that was a fleeting touch of two compatible hearts. Not, yet, a home. So is that the answer? That his home doesn't exist? Because...

... If it doesn't...

... That means that all is left is to build it himself.

Your magic reaches out, grasping the very threads of reality that splay out in front of you. They twist with life, thin, but impossibly strong. As indivisible as a soul.

Mentally, you pull on one and you feel a bridge between the two worlds start to form. Pouring your mental strength into it widens the window, but your horn soon begins to hurt as well. Sparks fly, shooting around yourself and singing your coat.

Don't give up, darling. It may be painful for a while, but it will pass.

Painful is an understatement. As you've said though, you're committed to the act. But are you committed to the price?

Luminark, your bridge between worlds is forming, but it's imperfect. There may be a side effect or two that comes out of this. You can direct the flows, pulling on the threads to steer as it turns out, but you cannot avoid something. Take your pick of the below and let me know where your village is meant to manifest?

• You arrive drained, your magic and willpower spent. You cannot cast spells or manifest your changeling abilities for a full day.
• You only bring part of the town with you, a few buildings at most, tell me which ones.
• You arrive well away from your intended destination.

What do do?

[TheAmishPirate]

You're gone. In fact, you're so gone that, if this were a kids' cartoon, there would have been a Scrapscallion-shaped hole in the perimeter fence.

But this is reality, which means that by the time the Pegasi in the mess hall mobilise, they can only find a trail of broken boxes and torn fencing to show where your party exited.

Up in the hills beyond the base, you and the rest of the now-free prisoners regroup. Gulping down the cool air from your madcap dash, and resting on nearby rocks, you all get a moment of respite before your backup catches up to you.

A trio of red-painted Applejack's Rangers arrive, and before long you're all on the way back to the parked Peregine.

"- stirred up a real hornet's nest back there. Some of the Pegasi and Vertibucks took off while you were in there. Looked like they were heading back above the clouds" continues one of the Rangers, an initiate by the name of Cherry Glaze. "They looked in a hurry. Not sure where they'll head next, or when they'll be back"

The escapees start boarding the nearby transports, with Dirt and one other rag-clad pony opting to join you in the Peregrine rather than travel with the rest. One Ranger and your Pegasus companion join you, with the latter plonking down just behind your bike's chair and staring off into the sky, she's been a little quiet since you finished.

What do you do?

"Here's a tip for your boss:" The Scrapscallion reached into the Peregrine's glovebox (which had yet to contain a single glove, ever) and unfolded a rough map of the area around the Bunker. "Get everything she has, get everything her friends have, and get it pointed, ehhhhh, here." He jabbed a hoof at a valley just to the North of the Bunker. Wide open in the center, plenty of mountains and caves to hide things in. "Because that's where I'm going to send the Enclave. All of them."

Yeah. Chew on that one, tin-can.

"Dirt? Pony who isn't Dirt? You're with the Rangers. I got hired to rescue you, and I'm not gonna lose my paycheck hauling you right back in the firing line. Dirt, write your folks a note or something telling them I did the job so they don't think I ditched or nothing. Cherry, when you're done telling your boss that first thing, tell her to put these ponies up for a few days. She owes me one, and this does not make us square. Oh, and I'm keeping the gun and shocky stick a bit longer. Gonna need 'em. All goes well, I'll give 'em back in a few days. All goes bad, she'll have bigger problems than missing inventory." He smirked his most dangerous smirk. "You got all that?"

[BlasTech]

"Hey, after what you just did, feel free to keep em." replies Glaze, happily, as Dirt and the other prisoner share a glance.

"I'll tell Paladin Cross about the Enclave coming. I can't promise she'll send everyone, but I'll try to explain the Enclave are a big enough threat to the wasteland that we should keep doing whatever we can to take them down before another Friendship City occurs."

"Thank you again for the rescue." adds Dirt. "We owe you more than we can ever repa-"

He cuts off as your Pegasus companion's wings flare. The passengers watch in silence and awe as she takes off in a pale-blue and gold streak. It banks away from the Peregrine before swinging back over it. Her expression seems focused, but whether that's on the job of pacing the Peregrine (which she is doing effortlessly by the way) or something else, who knows?

What do you do?

[Thanqol]

Your magic reaches out, grasping the very threads of reality that splay out in front of you. They twist with life, thin, but impossibly strong. As indivisible as a soul.

Mentally, you pull on one and you feel a bridge between the two worlds start to form. Pouring your mental strength into it widens the window, but your horn soon begins to hurt as well. Sparks fly, shooting around yourself and singing your coat.

Don't give up, darling. It may be painful for a while, but it will pass.

Painful is an understatement. As you've said though, you're committed to the act. But are you committed to the price?

Luminark, your bridge between worlds is forming, but it's imperfect. There may be a side effect or two that comes out of this. You can direct the flows, pulling on the threads to steer as it turns out, but you cannot avoid something. Take your pick of the below and let me know where your village is meant to manifest?

• You arrive drained, your magic and willpower spent. You cannot cast spells or manifest your changeling abilities for a full day.
• You only bring part of the town with you, a few buildings at most, tell me which ones.
• You arrive well away from your intended destination.

What do do?

He doesn't flinch away from the spell, from the pain, from the draining of energy. All his life he's done just that, but... well, it didn't work, did it? It caught up with him in the end. So now he just has to ride it out and give the magic everything he has.

He once saw a picture in a book of the town of Rainbow Falls, and he always thought it was the most beautiful place in the world. The cliff seemed taller than anything he'd ever seen, taller than the entire central elevator shaft of the bunker stacked ontop of itself. The sky cascaded down onto a mountaintop and then fell even further down and you could see forever...

That's where. That's his picture. All of his magic goes into bringing it about.

[Balmas]

Well, in case it's not bleedingly obvious from the way he keeps following you around and watching your every move - he's thinking you're possibly a threat, or at least up to something, but nothing either he or the community can't handle. He's mostly thinking of getting you to do whatever it is he wants you to do and then get out of here.

As to how you can get him to give you the parts for the hunter killer bot - the easiest is to do what he wants, or perhaps a trade of some kind. A settlement like this always has needs, but the real question is what can you, as a mutated half-melty princess pony on her own, offer them?

What do you do?

Starlight offers one raised eyebrow. "You mean... beyond two-hundred years' accumulation of scientific knowledge? You were watching me take care of Burgerhoof. Medical! Electrical! Magical energy weapons! Material sciences! Politics! You point me at a problem--still waiting on that point, by the way, have been waiting since I walked in--and it's going to be solved!"

She shakes her head sadly. "Honestly, I thought that a ghoul would be the last pony to judge someone by their looks."

[BlasTech]

"I can help you find... 'it', of course. When you say something is missing from 'here' is that you, that you have a piece missing? Like a string of code or, a subroutine, or something? Or do you mean The Library? Is The Library missing something?" Other than Luminark.

Please don't say Luminark.

"Or the Bunker at large is missing something?" Hell there's more than one thing missing from there, that's for sure.

"I'll help," she reassures him.

Him?

"Of course I'll help. Just... tell me how. And if you don't know then... just tell me when something comes to you. That's fine too."

"It's … something missing in me." replies House. "Maybe some code, maybe a routine … if I were a pony, I'd tell you that I'd forgotten something."

"But it's not like where I left my keys, or what I did last week. It's something where … where important isn't a strong enough word to capture it." he continues, frustration leaking into his voice.

"I'm sure there's something out there that can help me remember. I just know it."

So, Milliway. If you can't give him the means to look for something like this - do you have any ideas where to start?

Or do you want to read a sitch for some hints.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Hey, after what you just did, feel free to keep em." replies Glaze, happily, as Dirt and the other prisoner share a glance.

"I'll tell Paladin Cross about the Enclave coming. I can't promise she'll send everyone, but I'll try to explain the Enclave are a big enough threat to the wasteland that we should keep doing whatever we can to take them down before another Friendship City occurs."

"Thank you again for the rescue." adds Dirt. "We owe you more than we can ever repa-"

He cuts off as your Pegasus companion's wings flare. The passengers watch in silence and awe as she takes off in a pale-blue and gold streak. It banks away from the Peregrine before swinging back over it. Her expression seems focused, but whether that's on the job of pacing the Peregrine (which she is doing effortlessly by the way) or something else, who knows?

What do you do?

Yeah, yeah, the Scrapscallion doesn’t want to be here any longer than you do, lady.

“Thank me when the job’s done. When I’m through with them, the Enclave won’t be able to mess with a radroach.”

Turning back to the Ranger, the Scrapscallion hoofed over the critical data drive. “Then hows about you give her this, and hows about I give you the short version, so you can get the pitch right.”

“The Enclave are bringing half a dozen battleships on a mission for some bad news mad science. They get their hooves on that, Friendship City’s gonna be every day of the week. They were gonna launch today. Now they’re not. I bought us a few days, maybe. By the time they get their act together, I’m gonna get their entire fleet to that spot, and that’s your best chance ever to mop up the Enclave, for good.”

The Scrapscallion vaulted up onto the Peregrine, and revved the engine. Ready to go, and so was he.

“If Cross asks when she should pull the trigger, I’d say wait until the Enclave start shooting each other.” He smirked. “How’s that for a signal? Now get going; we’re burning daylight here!”

[Elanorin]

"It's … something missing in me." replies House. "Maybe some code, maybe a routine … if I were a pony, I'd tell you that I'd forgotten something."

"But it's not like where I left my keys, or what I did last week. It's something where … where important isn't a strong enough word to capture it." he continues, frustration leaking into his voice.

"I'm sure there's something out there that can help me remember. I just know it."

So, Milliway. If you can't give him the means to look for something like this - do you have any ideas where to start?

Or do you want to read a sitch for some hints.

"...when you say 'out there'..." Milliway said cautiously and with a big scoop of apprehension. "Out there" was not a destination that felt like an option right now, being barricaded in the library. Outside was a terrifying concept at the best of times and right now even stepping hoof outside the library and in to the rest of the bunker felt like the kind of reckless daredevil move that only Scrap- that was an overall unhealthy and Bad Idea.

[Rolling to Read A Sitch: 6+4+0=10 What should I be on the lookout for? Who is in control here? What's my enemy's true position?]

[BlasTech]

He doesn't flinch away from the spell, from the pain, from the draining of energy. All his life he's done just that, but... well, it didn't work, did it? It caught up with him in the end. So now he just has to ride it out and give the magic everything he has.

He once saw a picture in a book of the town of Rainbow Falls, and he always thought it was the most beautiful place in the world. The cliff seemed taller than anything he'd ever seen, taller than the entire central elevator shaft of the bunker stacked ontop of itself. The sky cascaded down onto a mountaintop and then fell even further down and you could see forever...

That's where. That's his picture. All of his magic goes into bringing it about.

The first sense that comes back to you is sound.

The rustle of wind in leaves, the trickle of water on rock. The creek of rusted metal.

Colours come back next, mostly a washed out, sickly green. Faded pastels and dry brown broken up by an occasional splash of colour. As things come into focus, you find yourself staring at a bizarre mis-mash of ruins and brand new buildings mixed in amongst one another. Bombed out wartime ruins nestle up against the freshly manifest buildings of Ponyville (as per your imagination of them at least). You, yourself, are lying in the dirt just in front of Rarity's Boutique.

Beyond the immediate circle, a rusted chainlink fence demarcates the bank of a river that winds alongside the old settlement. The trickle of irradiated water is all that remains of the once famous falls that gave this place its name. A single waterfall feeds it, and runs to the edge of the plateau before dropping away once more. At least you have a good view from up here, in the distance, you can spot the remains of Canterlot and, to the west, the hills where the Bunker is hidden.

In your more immediate vicinity, while there are signs of this place once having been inhabited (the odd rotting bedroll, the remains of a fire pit), there don't appear to be any ponies here besides yourself.

Well, besides Olive Drab, who is lying in a heap next to the Boutique and groaning as if he has the king-hit of all hangovers.

Oh, and Rarity - who is lying next to him, not breathing.

What do you do?

Starlight offers one raised eyebrow. "You mean... beyond two-hundred years' accumulation of scientific knowledge? You were watching me take care of Burgerhoof. Medical! Electrical! Magical energy weapons! Material sciences! Politics! You point me at a problem--still waiting on that point, by the way, have been waiting since I walked in--and it's going to be solved!"

She shakes her head sadly. "Honestly, I thought that a ghoul would be the last pony to judge someone by their looks."

"Ain't judging you by yer looks, lady. Nor am I judgin' you by your words." replies Stedder. "You offer us somethin' tangible, then maybe we'll talk."

"But … hmm … science y'say?" he pauses, tapping his chin with a hoof. "Okay, let's make a deal. You wanted some cloud samples, and I wager probably some more of the MoM's secrets than you'd be willin' to discuss with the likes o'me."

"We need some help with the reactor that we use for power down here. If you can fix it up, we'll help you get where you need ta go."

What do you do?

[BlasTech]

Yeah, yeah, the Scrapscallion doesn’t want to be here any longer than you do, lady.

“Thank me when the job’s done. When I’m through with them, the Enclave won’t be able to mess with a radroach.”

Turning back to the Ranger, the Scrapscallion hoofed over the critical data drive. “Then hows about you give her this, and hows about I give you the short version, so you can get the pitch right.”

“The Enclave are bringing half a dozen battleships on a mission for some bad news mad science. They get their hooves on that, Friendship City’s gonna be every day of the week. They were gonna launch today. Now they’re not. I bought us a few days, maybe. By the time they get their act together, I’m gonna get their entire fleet to that spot, and that’s your best chance ever to mop up the Enclave, for good.”

The Scrapscallion vaulted up onto the Peregrine, and revved the engine. Ready to go, and so was he.

“If Cross asks when she should pull the trigger, I’d say wait until the Enclave start shooting each other.” He smirked. “How’s that for a signal? Now get going; we’re burning daylight here!”

"Gotcha!" replied Glaze, as she and the other ex-prisoners loaded themselves up onto the Rangers' waiting transports. "We'll be there with bells on!"

"I should probably be joining them." says the pegasus, as she lands next to you - watching the Rangers, but you can tell that's not where her attention is.

What do you do?

"...when you say 'out there'..." Milliway said cautiously and with a big scoop of apprehension. "Out there" was not a destination that felt like an option right now, being barricaded in the library. Outside was a terrifying concept at the best of times and right now even stepping hoof outside the library and in to the rest of the bunker felt like the kind of reckless daredevil move that only Scrap- that was an overall unhealthy and Bad Idea.

[Rolling to Read A Sitch: 6+4+0=10 What should I be on the lookout for? Who is in control here? What's my enemy's true position?]

Okay, lets tackle these things in order:

"What should I be on the lookout for?" - well, you've got a clue: The colours Blue and White. You've got a goal: Memories. You've got a machine born of the Crystal Heart. Now what colour was that Heart again?

"Who is in control here?" - Most definitely you are. You're the Librarian and you're in a library - more than that - you're in THE Library (please note the capital letter - those are important). It's a veritable horde of alchemical, historical and necromantic knowledge. The single greatest concentration of arcane literature on the planet outside of Twilight Sparkle's bedside table. You're holding all the aces and those schmucks trying to break in are trying to make do with the two-pair that they've scrounged up in their own pitiful labs.

"What is my enemy's true position" - before I can answer this one. I have to ask. Who is your enemy in this scenario? Because, and this might be a freebee answer, your real enemy here sometimes sounds like yourself.

What do you do?

[Elanorin]

Okay, lets tackle these things in order:

"What should I be on the lookout for?" - well, you've got a clue: The colours Blue and White. You've got a goal: Memories. You've got a machine born of the Crystal Heart. Now what colour was that Heart again?

The crystal heart is the colour of the tropical ocean so blue and white is certainly not far off. Though the shard that is grafted to her chest is somewhat darker, dimmed, with slow tendrils of black cloud swirling inside it. It... had started doing that... she couldn't quite remember when. She'd only had it fused to her body after she died. Certainly ever since then.

Wait.

"Uhm... House?" Milliway's voice was both nervous and sheepish. "Is it this?" She tapped the shard at her chest lightly with her hoof.

"What is my enemy's true position" - before I can answer this one. I have to ask. Who is your enemy in this scenario? Because, and this might be a freebee answer, your real enemy here sometimes sounds like yourself.

While you have a point... Milliway is often her own worst enemy, right now she's undergoing a lot of soul searching and humbling gazing in the proverbial mirror so no, right now it's not her. Right now her focus and concern is House and his problem so, whoever caused him to be broken would be the most imminent real enemy in this situation. Though... it's entirely possible that that still leads back to her.

[Thanqol]

The first sense that comes back to you is sound.

The rustle of wind in leaves, the trickle of water on rock. The creek of rusted metal.

Colours come back next, mostly a washed out, sickly green. Faded pastels and dry brown broken up by an occasional splash of colour. As things come into focus, you find yourself staring at a bizarre mis-mash of ruins and brand new buildings mixed in amongst one another. Bombed out wartime ruins nestle up against the freshly manifest buildings of Ponyville (as per your imagination of them at least). You, yourself, are lying in the dirt just in front of Rarity's Boutique.

Beyond the immediate circle, a rusted chainlink fence demarcates the bank of a river that winds alongside the old settlement. The trickle of irradiated water is all that remains of the once famous falls that gave this place its name. A single waterfall feeds it, and runs to the edge of the plateau before dropping away once more. At least you have a good view from up here, in the distance, you can spot the remains of Canterlot and, to the west, the hills where the Bunker is hidden.

In your more immediate vicinity, while there are signs of this place once having been inhabited (the odd rotting bedroll, the remains of a fire pit), there don't appear to be any ponies here besides yourself.

Well, besides Olive Drab, who is lying in a heap next to the Boutique and groaning as if he has the king-hit of all hangovers.

Oh, and Rarity - who is lying next to him, not breathing.

What do you do?

"Rarity? M-minister Rarity?" Luminark said, moving over to her, shaking her, trying to remember the theory of healing magic and knowing that he wouldn't have the strength to successfully pull it off. "You're alright, right? You came through just fine? Minister?" Keep cool, Luminark, keep it together, you remember what to do...

[If there's an act under fire to do medical stuff, hit on a 9]

[BlasTech]

The crystal heart is the colour of the tropical ocean so blue and white is certainly not far off. Though the shard that is grafted to her chest is somewhat darker, dimmed, with slow tendrils of black cloud swirling inside it. It... had started doing that... she couldn't quite remember when. She'd only had it fused to her body after she died. Certainly ever since then.

Wait.

"Uhm... House?" Milliway's voice was both nervous and sheepish. "Is it this?" She tapped the shard at her chest lightly with her hoof.

"No idea." he replies, after a moment. "Maybe if there was a way to hook it back up to me. I've been meaning to ask though, what happened to the rest of it?"

While you have a point... Milliway is often her own worst enemy, right now she's undergoing a lot of soul searching and humbling gazing in the proverbial mirror so no, right now it's not her. Right now her focus and concern is House and his problem so, whoever caused him to be broken would be the most imminent real enemy in this situation. Though... it's entirely possible that that still leads back to her.

Well, it's difficult to say. That attack happened a while ago, back when you were in your old workshop and both House and the Crystal Heart were plugged into your network. Since then, you haven't really had the time to hunt down leads on this before you'd died.

Your enemy's true position in this is currently beyond your ken - but the steps to find it. Well, old server logs from the workshop. Or perhaps something within House's code. Or maybe something within the Crystal heart. All are valid points to start digging into where this enemy really is.

"Rarity? M-minister Rarity?" Luminark said, moving over to her, shaking her, trying to remember the theory of healing magic and knowing that he wouldn't have the strength to successfully pull it off. "You're alright, right? You came through just fine? Minister?" Keep cool, Luminark, keep it together, you remember what to do...

[If there's an act under fire to do medical stuff, hit on a 9]

Hey Luminark, do you know CPR?

[TheAmishPirate]

""I should probably be joining them." says the pegasus, as she lands next to you - watching the Rangers, but you can tell that's not where her attention is.

What do you do?

The Scrapscallion shrugged off the Enclave uniform. Rolled his shoulders. Straightened his still-smoldering leather jacket until it rode comfortable on his back. And turned a lazy look her way.

"That so?"

The knowing challenge crackled through the steaming midday heat. Thrummed deeper than the rumble of the Peregrine beneath them.

And demanded an answer.

[I am down for whatever direction the Pegasus intends to take this conversation. But at the same time, I also just rolled a 10 on the eventual Seduce roll.]

[Thanqol]

Hey Luminark, do you know CPR?

Luminark is... CPR-adjacent. He knows a lot about life and biology from one of his moms, he knows a lot about death and necromancy from his other mom. He's done lung surgery a couple of times, mostly on corpses he's helping bring up to standard. He can probably reverse engineer the theory.

But has he ever actually done it? Well... no.

[Balmas]

"Ain't judging you by yer looks, lady. Nor am I judgin' you by your words." replies Stedder. "You offer us somethin' tangible, then maybe we'll talk."

"But … hmm … science y'say?" he pauses, tapping his chin with a hoof. "Okay, let's make a deal. You wanted some cloud samples, and I wager probably some more of the MoM's secrets than you'd be willin' to discuss with the likes o'me."

"We need some help with the reactor that we use for power down here. If you can fix it up, we'll help you get where you need ta go."

What do you do?

Finally! I mean really, how hard was that? "What is your settlement's problem?" Shouldn't take that long to say "fix our reactor."

So, we're in front of the reactor now, right? What's this thing's deal? Is there a geiger counter clicking too quickly in here, has the fuel rod run down, is there a leak in the coolant? Starlight is looking at this thing and trying to figure out what's wrong and what it needs.
[Read a Sitch: 13. And since that's one of my advanced moves: How can I fix this reactor using things in this building? Holding 2.]

[Elanorin]

"No idea." he replies, after a moment. "Maybe if there was a way to hook it back up to me. I've been meaning to ask though, what happened to the rest of it?"

The rest of it?!

Milliway's eyes shot wide open as if she'd just sat on a wasp.

The rest of it?!

She looked at the crystal on her chest, then up at the heart suspended in House's cabling. Then back at her chest. Then back at the heart. Her mind suddenly trying to do all kinds of painful mental calculations regarding volume and mass to assess if the cut of the heart was the exact fit to the shard in her chest as she had always just assumed it was.

"Wh-wh-what do you mean the rest of it? It's all here? Isn't it?" her voice was getting higher and higher pitched by the syllable. "Isn't it?"

She had to actually remind herself not to just rip the shard out of her chest to test it in the cut of the heart as that would, according to her resurrector, kill her. Still, her unhelpful brain (that was actively resisting the Maths like an oily surface rejecting water) pointed out, it would answer the question quickly and accurately.

[BlasTech]

The Scrapscallion shrugged off the Enclave uniform. Rolled his shoulders. Straightened his still-smoldering leather jacket until it rode comfortable on his back. And turned a lazy look her way.

"That so?"

The knowing challenge crackled through the steaming midday heat. Thrummed deeper than the rumble of the Peregrine beneath them.

And demanded an answer.

[I am down for whatever direction the Pegasus intends to take this conversation. But at the same time, I also just rolled a 10 on the eventual Seduce roll.]

Oh Scraps, you suave monster you.

The Pegasus glances at you, smirking at your response. She knows that you know what she's trying, and at the same time there's a hint of respect there that you're good enough at the game to pin it back on her so well.

"So … what's your deal, anyway?" she continued, changing tack now that the ploy was clearly not working. "Some kind of cool-as-a-cucumber road-bound loner? Or do you have a family or something you're looking after by being out here?"

What do you say?

Luminark is... CPR-adjacent. He knows a lot about life and biology from one of his moms, he knows a lot about death and necromancy from his other mom. He's done lung surgery a couple of times, mostly on corpses he's helping bring up to standard. He can probably reverse engineer the theory.

But has he ever actually done it? Well... no.

Well, there's never a better time to learn by doing.

You going to go for it? Or let her expire? Or something else?

What do you do?

Finally! I mean really, how hard was that? "What is your settlement's problem?" Shouldn't take that long to say "fix our reactor."

So, we're in front of the reactor now, right? What's this thing's deal? Is there a geiger counter clicking too quickly in here, has the fuel rod run down, is there a leak in the coolant? Starlight is looking at this thing and trying to figure out what's wrong and what it needs.
[Read a Sitch: 13. And since that's one of my advanced moves: How can I fix this reactor using things in this building? Holding 2.]

After a few minutes of your expert review, you identify a few basic issues with it and one underlying problem that is making it all more complicated.

For starters, the reactor casing is damaged in a few places, enough to cause the Geiger counter to spike when standing too close to the containment vessel. Nothing life threatening for a ghoul, and something that can easily be patched using the scrap metal lying around.

The manual override panel has also seen better days, but it's been cobbled back together well enough to function. It can probably be improved - with proper wheels rather than just a wrench on a stick. Or even totally rewired using some of the discarded terminals that you've spotted throughout the settlement.

The tricky part is that the reactor's automated systems are constantly sending update commands to the coolant controls. Something that has to be compensated by the manual overrides from time to time to prevent the reactor getting too out of whack. Stedder points out that its been doing that ever since the Fall from Canterlot mountain. Unfortunately, the controls are sealed behind a shield that none of the ghouls have been able to get past. He shows you it, a glowing pink wall of energy. Somepony has stencilled a horn and wings (as well as a few smiley faces and a firework) on the doorway beside it.

What do you do?

The rest of it?!

Milliway's eyes shot wide open as if she'd just sat on a wasp.

The rest of it?!

She looked at the crystal on her chest, then up at the heart suspended in House's cabling. Then back at her chest. Then back at the heart. Her mind suddenly trying to do all kinds of painful mental calculations regarding volume and mass to assess if the cut of the heart was the exact fit to the shard in her chest as she had always just assumed it was.

"Wh-wh-what do you mean the rest of it? It's all here? Isn't it?" her voice was getting higher and higher pitched by the syllable. "Isn't it?"

She had to actually remind herself not to just rip the shard out of her chest to test it in the cut of the heart as that would, according to her resurrector, kill her. Still, her unhelpful brain (that was actively resisting the Maths like an oily surface rejecting water) pointed out, it would answer the question quickly and accurately.

"Um no." replies House, as an overlay of the crystal heart appears on a nearby monitor. Red circles flash to life over two sections of it.

"According to what my sensors are telling me, in addition to the sliver you have with you, there's another missing from the rear of the Heart, and a chunk missing from the base of the point."

What do you do?

[Thanqol]

Well, there's never a better time to learn by doing.

You going to go for it? Or let her expire? Or something else?

What do you do?

Well, he's certainly going to try. Without magic and without anypony else within his immediate field of vision his range of actions are extremely limited. He will, however, also yell for help - a kind of desperate yell, the kind with a little catch that comes at the end of using every last scrap of breath in his lungs.

[BlasTech]

Well, he's certainly going to try. Without magic and without anypony else within his immediate field of vision his range of actions are extremely limited. He will, however, also yell for help - a kind of desperate yell, the kind with a little catch that comes at the end of using every last scrap of breath in his lungs.

Well, the Princesses must have been listening. Whether because of your yell, the brief medical ministrations you provided earlier, providence or just the sprouts that you ate four your last meal, your muzzle is suddenly stopped by an alabaster hoof just as it approaches contact.

"No- Not just yet" coughs Rarity, pushing you away gently but firmly, before rolling to her hooves.

It was a little bit longer before she'd fully recovered, but you were able to get her through it.

-==-

"It's real, isn't it?"

Twenty minutes later the three of you are standing on the edge of the bluff, looking out at the lowlands between Rainbow Falls and Canterlot. The sun shines down through a patchy grey sky, casting pillars of light across the Equestrian Wasteland.

"It's not just a dream or spell" continues Rarity, looking out. "I'm really here. This is really … what's left."

Deep breaths. Eyes closed.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

Oh Scraps, you suave monster you.

The Pegasus glances at you, smirking at your response. She knows that you know what she's trying, and at the same time there's a hint of respect there that you're good enough at the game to pin it back on her so well.

"So … what's your deal, anyway?" she continued, changing tack now that the ploy was clearly not working. "Some kind of cool-as-a-cucumber road-bound loner? Or do you have a family or something you're looking after by being out here?"

What do you say?

Oh, he doesn’t rub it in. But he smirks right back, to show her that he knows she knows he knows what she’s up to, and you know what? He digs it. Totally.

“‘The Scrapscallion’s sometimes got a place he parks his bike, but his real home’s the road.’” he recited. And, well. Maybe he ought to recite a little more, but that’s where he leaves it. She knows about the legends of The Scrapscallion, right? Everybody knows. Everybody loves ‘em. So he don’t gotta say more. Yeah. “It’s something like that,” he shrugged. “Maybe I stay someplace for a while, but forever? Nahhhhhh. Sittin' still ain’t me. Guess I was just born to chase the wind.”

Come on. Pegasi? Flying? Wind? Chasing the wind? Flirting with her? Right now? No way she could miss that. So could they skip ahead to the fun part already? Not that he wasn’t down for the slow, circling smolder or anything. No, no, it’s just. Y’know. Places to be. He had a headache or something. Whatever. Ugh, she was lucky was smokin’, or else he might do something stupid.

“And what about you, hotshot?” He countered, with a casual lean back. Daring, inviting her to get a little closer. “Who’re you out here for?”