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Post by Red Charge on Dec 21, 2014 14:19:33 GMT -5
Before they even noticed, it was nightfall, the afternoon sun was replaced with a blanket of star sprinkled indigo, what noises still outside died down as the recruits in the camp put out their lamps and went to sleep, anticipating the early rise in the morning. Lucky, though surprised initially at the sudden appearance of a fox, laid on his back, looking outside the tent at the night sky.
Lucky Drops pulled something out from under his sleep-bag, an orb or so, reflecting the moon. "The sphere from a zebra moon dais. They can only be found in those ancient ruins, none of the tribes know how to make them today. Very rare and very ancient. Each phase of the moon is etched into it, but in such a way that it responds only to moonlight. If you hold it up to a fire, or the sun, it'll be transparent." He said, showing Script the orb. "But if you hold it in moonlight," He continued, extinguishing the lamp in their tent. Immediately a sliver of white appeared on the dais, perfectly mirroring the moon shining from outside their tent. "The moonlight shines through the etches... they made it so that the fuller the moon is, the more etchings are revealed." He turned to Fantasy Script, "The dais has a star chart for every month, for twenty five months. I guess it was some kind of horoscope for them, maybe a way to keep track of time."
"When you went to the recruitment officer, what made him change his mind and not assign you a squad?" the unicorn asked, "I thought for sure you'd be put in the new heavy support training. You look like the kind of pony who'd get thrown into that sort of thing." The other unicorn said, "And it's not like they don't need every set of hooves they can get." He added, ponderingly.
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Post by Fantasy Script on Dec 21, 2014 14:40:03 GMT -5
Just as he was thinking about dropping asleep something new seemed to appear out of thin air to keep his interest. Another priceless treasure was revealed to him. A sphere of old, perhaps Lucky was exaggerating but he didn’t strike Script as that sort. Maybe he was the son of rich parents. Though why he would be in the army then would be anyone’s guess. He watched as the globe began to glow in the moonlight, its etchings beautifully done. He wondered for a moment whether it was enchanted. Possible of course, but he didn’t know if Zebras had a culture of enchanting. Not as far as he was informed of course, but it was possible all the same. Much was still unknown in this world after all.
“Where do you get all this stuff?” Script asked, incredulous. “Mind if I have a quick peek?” He added as an afterthought. The enchanter wouldn’t do anything dangerous to it, just examine it, prod it as gently as possible with his magic and see what it might reveal. He doubted it was magic, but he wanted very much to verify that – Only if Lucky wanted to of course. He was not the sort to tamper with anyone’s property unasked.
“Just a small one, see if there’s any magic in it.” Yawning languidly he snuggled further into his roll, watching the glowing sphere with half lidded eyes full of interest and keen curiosity.
Petting Albion slowly, the fox snoring gently on his chest, Script pondered Lucky’s question.
“Buck if I know. He mentioned some field alchemist that joined recently I think, muttered something about me being an enchanter. Think they got some plan cooking that needs specific people. Wonder what though.”
He yawned again, the last days’ strain catching up to him full time. Still, Script forced his eyes open; some measly twenty-four hours of waking time were nothing that truly stopped him. He was just comfy and stuffed – a deadly combination. Humming thoughtfully at Lucky’s assessment he turned towards him as he spoke, carefully guiding Albion to rest against his side.
“I’d have expected something like that as well. Gimme a big sword and a chunk o’ steel to wrap around me and I’m a happy camper.”
Script groaned lowly.
“This is starting to really bug me…”
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Post by Red Charge on Dec 21, 2014 14:55:04 GMT -5
Lucky Drops snorted, "Well I'm the alchemist and they've been keeping me here on the same pretenses. Good to know it's not only because they don't trust me." He said, tossing the orb over, "Zebras don't have magic, if it was magic I'd have pawned it off when I first got my hooves on it."
"Of course," Lucky stopped in thought, "Could be that they don't trust you either, coming in here with a big sword and a skull on your head." He mused, "I was a criminal you know, well, as much a criminal as you can be without actually being involved in crime. I'm a field alchemist, used to supply some underworld parties here and there. You get into it, learn the culture, do something for this goon, he owes you a favor, so he drops a word with his boss. Then the boss needs something, so you whip him up something so he can feel more of a stallion with himself, all discreetly of course. Then he owes you one, next thing you know you start getting "imports" then they start asking you for bigger favors, get bigger favors. I lived for years in Neighroby, went to study Zebra alchemy. They're very holistic you know, not like us, we're precise we deal with numbers. A plant is more than the sum of its powdered leaves..."
"I left the crime life, but everyone knew what I was. Couldn't stick anything on me, because technically, I wasn't doing anything wrong. Got a few months in, here and there, for illegal imports, usually got out after a week or two pulling favors... You never know how patriotic you are until you hear your country's been invaded by Diamond Dogs you know? I was in at the time, by the time I got out and got here, all I see is Canterlot rubble everywhere. But they let me join. I'll never forget that."
As he was talking, Lucky Drops was staring at the night sky, it was obvious he had been through quite the emotional roller-coaster before he came there, much like Script. It was funny, two ponies, on opposite sides of the world coming together from vastly different backgrounds for the same purpose.
"So I whip up the good stuff for soldiers, cures, tonics, poultices... anything to make them feel better. I can give you flasks that'll make your coat shine like a supermodel's, I can make you a shampoo that'd make your mane feel like cotton candy, or a potion that'll fix your energy levels for days. The economics are the same, help this guy, he owes you one, spreads the word, suddenly every stallion and pretty mare come to you with their problem. They help me, they help others... everyone's a winner." The alchemist muttered, "You know, it works great at first, until you're neck deep in it."
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Post by Fantasy Script on Dec 21, 2014 15:27:01 GMT -5
“We all have magic, Lucky. Pegasi, Earth Ponies, Unicorns… and Zebras too. We all come from Harmony and Magic. At least it’s what I believe.”
He gently held the orb, prodding it with his magic, to see what it might reveal. While at that he took the time to really appreciate the fine etching on it. It was an incredibly pretty thing. He nearly dropped it as Lucky began to recount his past. He didn’t expect such a dark twist to the happy, perky pony that had led him around all day. It was strange in a way, to see Lucky Drops as anything other than just a friendly helpful colt that easily made friends. Yet, here he was, spilling the beans, so to speak. “That explains so much, actually.”
Suddenly, a lot of things clicked into place. Now, Lucky Drops made sense. Instead of making him tenser, this little revelation only led Script to relax further, though now he was wide awake again, his mind racing with thoughts. Quickly he sobered up again, contemplating the negatives. Of course, if in too deep things suddenly turn ugly, turn nasty. It could end in a horrible fate that would leave him dead or worse. Become too valuable and you dare not contemplate what will happen to you. Investments needed to be protected after all.
“Let’s hope they trust us then. I got better things to do than sit around all day. I…” should he really? Could he share this past of his with a stranger? Lucky had talked about his past with ease, obviously accepting what he was and is. Could Script do the same? Maybe not completely but he could tell parts of it at least.
“I came here from Stalliongrad after I heard of Ponyvilles destruction. My father always held that Hamlet in the highest regard, called it the Cradle of Harmony and stuff. I never really understood where that believe stemmed from, he never told me. Said he would show me once we visited.”
He saw his father hanging in the room, his neck bend at an odd angle, his little sister crying bitterly.
“He… he said… he said he wanted to visit one day.”
His voice got rougher as his eyes lost focus and he stared past the glowing orb still in his magic grip.
“It was his dream… he killed himself… couldn’t handle me being an idiot and my mother’s death… he just broke and hanged himself. My fault I guess… he was a gentle man and I wasn’t a very nice kid.”
He took some calming breaths. Focus returning to his vision. Gently he set the orb down, fearful that his wavering magic might destroy it.
“He wanted to visit so much, it was his only true ambition in life, but his family came first and all the money he made was used right up… he never managed and he’d never have left us for his dream… still killed himself but heck, who knows what was going on in his head then. When I heard the town got destroyed I left everything behind. What I brought is all I own, that skull… that whole thing, the fur, the leather, the bones… the necklace… yeah. Mementos of my mistakes I guess. I came here to save Ponyville, to help Canterlot, help Equestria and help my father. I want to see that city rebuild, see it alive. For my father.”
Script stood up, Albion perking up and watching him thoughtfully before he lay down again, rolling into the warm spot Script had left. Moving towards the flap he sat down and looked up into the night sky, the moon throwing a long shadow of Script into the tent.
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Post by Red Charge on Dec 23, 2014 5:57:42 GMT -5
Lucky Drops listened carefully and snorted derisively, "What a dumb reason to blame yourself. If ponies killed themselves because their foals were little jerks, we'd have a LOT less parents around today. You know how hard it is to beat the self preservation instinct? Let me tell you, I ate bugs and mud to survive in the Zebra Lands, that's how hard it is. Little moments of insanity."
Lucky telekinetically grabbed his orb and put it back under his sleeping bag, tucking himself in as one of the Tesla Zepplins passed in front of the moon, casting darkness over the campsite.
"Trust me, suiciders don't do it because of other ponies, they do it because of themselves. Whether it's a chemical imbalance in the brain, or some deep self-loathing issue. They hide from everyone else. Beside being a creepy as all pony walking around in a skull and fur you seemed to turn out alright, so long as you don't murder me in my sleep or anything. Now come on, we gotta wake up early tomorrow." At that Lucky stuffed himself into his sleeping bag and became quiet.
The next morning Lucky woke Script up while it was still dark, they still had half an hour to morning ceremony, so why? Because they had to be in gear and fully groomed for it, that's why. Before Lucky put on his overcoat, Script noticed that he too had some of that fine, padded new chrome armor. Which is probably why he was wearing a coat to hide it. He instructed Script to do the same and once they were fully dressed they were off.
Morning Ceremony was a drawl affair, after visually inspecting every pony's appearance to make sure they were all properly groomed and fit to represent the army, they began raising the Equestrian Flag over camp. After they all saluted it, they went over emergency drills. Whoo. And after 30 minutes of complete and utter boredom (one that he had to pay attention to, because anyone whose eyes wondered was immediately yelled at).
After that was done, it was chow time. Lucky dragged Script to the mess hall, another improvised structure which was pretty much rows over rows of tables where civilians, soldiers and royal guards alike sat to eat. Breakfast was not much, bread with avocado spread and some fresh juice. The armory ponies from yesterday sat next to them and chatted things up a bit. But soon enough they were off to the armory to serve new recruits and Lucky and Script were left alone. No orders, no duties, nothing.
"That's what it's been like every day. So I just spend all my day making stuff to make our fellow solders' lives a bit easier. You're an enchanter right? How's about doing some enchantments while I do my alchemy? Could make a couple friends of your own. Always useful."
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Post by Fantasy Script on Dec 23, 2014 9:51:24 GMT -5
Script just looked at Lucky, waiting for him to finish speaking before he started firing back in anger. Sure it might be dumb, but he just couldn’t help thinking that if he had been more supportive, nicer to his father in general and not an ungrateful little fool he wouldn’t have cracked. Still Lucky’s words held merit.
“Not the first time someone’s told me that. Knowing and believing are two different things though.”
He sighed heavily. “Guess you’re right.”
“Your fixation on my skull is weird though. It’s a perfectly viable alternative to steel. Its durable, easy to adjust, enchants well and has a decent intimidation value. Perfect choice of protective headwear. ‘S not like I ran around with that thing all day y’know…”
Slowly shuffling back to his sleep roll, Script finally flopped on his side and prepared to dive into the dream world, hopefully exhaustion would help him sleep through without an ugly visitor. He snorted lowly.
“If I had wanted to kill you, by the way, I would have done so after that insane hiking tour.”
The next morning came with a surprise for Script. He hadn’t even noticed that he had drifted off and while he still felt a little groggy he was far closer to his usual mood and demeanour. As the memories of the night before came back to him he frowned quite noticeably. He hadn’t been that exhausted had he? Usually he was barely as talkactive, much less willing to talk about his troubles with a total stranger… it was disconcerting. Well, it was too late now and Lucky had worked himself past his thorny defences and knew at least some of the things Script was carrying around with himself. Didn’t matter now anyways and Lucky seemed a decent guy. One that maybe needed a friend as much as Script wished for one some days.
Sure he had his own sticky past, but Script wasn’t one to judge people by what they did, but by what they are doing. Mostly. A bad first impression tended to stick with him, but mostly when people acted like total idiots or inconsiderate prats.
Alas, nothing to be done about that.
Dressing and then hiding his shiny armour under a nice overcoat, he still felt a little guilty for the privilege but he could always blame logistics, he told himself. Always blame logistics, a mantra that was already familiar to him from some of his former jobs. The Ceremony, while boring, was in so far interesting that Script hadn’t seen it before. He watched with a keen eye what happened, what needed to be done when and how and tried to remember at least the important bits. It was a droning monotone, sure, but it was important if he wanted to advance and be useful.
And he really wasn’t in the mood to get into a shouting match with the drill sergeant. Breakfast was as uninspired as the Ceremony was boring, but what did he expect. Supplies were probably short and a lot of people had to be fed effectively. And it was STILL better than what little he had eaten on the way here once rations were gone. He was discussing the merits of different metals with one of the armoury ponies, arguing about blades and sizes and other things until finally, Lucky and him were alone.
Sadly, Lucky’s fear came to pass and the two of them hadn’t been assigned any duty. No work, no patrol, no nothing. What a waste of time. Script muttered as much as he poked his empty plate.
“I guess I could do some all purpose enchantments… maybe stock some gems and get them ready to be set in a weapon or armour or something… usually I’d need some concrete idea and materials.”
He sighed.
“I’ll think about it. First order of business should probably be a solid enchantment for our own gear. Durability and strength for the armour and some nifty little thing for the weapons, I think.”
Script pulled out his pad and began to scribble some formulas, deciding how to go about the enchantment and what he’d need. He’d probably spend the better part of the day adjusting, testing and getting a feel for the equipment if nothing noteworthy came up. He’d be happy to have some quiet time anyways. The mess hall was rather tight packed and not a place he particularly enjoyed being in.
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Post by Red Charge on Dec 24, 2014 8:03:24 GMT -5
Lucky Drops got up from the table and took his and script's plate to the washers. Who also greeted him warmly, that's probably how he got that fine share of stew last night. Seems like everyone around had traded favors with Lucky at least once. He was right, the economics are the same everywhere, it seemed.
"Let's head back, I can treat your armor to make it harder, more resistant to energy type spells and whatnot. Then if you'll let me have some of that oil, I can amp it up even more." Lucky said, "Already did to my armor, hey, maybe you can enchant it too while I'm doing yours."
He led Script back down a quieter path. Took a bit longer, but it's not like they had any reason to rush right?
As soon as they arrived he took Fantasy Script's armor and began whip out his alchemy equipment. Fantasy may not have been an alchemy expert, but he has definitely not seen any equipment like his. Everything was small, could fit in someone's pocket and the shapes were beyond nonstandard.
"Designed them myself. They're meant to make certain processes faster and be available on the field. It's why I'm a field alchemist, get it? Zebra shamans often have to improvise on the field too so I picked up some of that too and voila. Hybrid alchemy equipment! Sure, it's not going to work for some of the more... potent stuff. But then again, do you really need the very potent stuff readily available in the field? Course not. If you're gonna go do something that requires some really powerful alchemy, you're gonna prepare first. Pretty much the essence of field alchemy, speed, speed, speed!" As he began sifting through ingredient bags, he took off his own armor and chucked it over for Script to work on.
"Oh and no runes or gems on the armor, you get court marshaled for that." He informed matter-of-factly as he began working diligently.
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Post by Fantasy Script on Dec 24, 2014 8:37:33 GMT -5
It appeared Lucky really seemed to know everyone. The pony had friends in every place, a favour here, a favour there, Script guessed, and suddenly everyone is your favourite pony in the world. He had learned firsthoof how… likeable Lucky was. You didn’t watch carefully and suddenly the guy was just… pleasant to have around. Extremely useful too…
Going back to the tent and listening to what Lucky planned to do Script wondered just how durable their equipment would be after they were done with it. Alchemically more resistant and enchanted to be even more durable… that would make some hefty protection, hopefully. Although Script couldn’t shake the feeling that they would need all the advantages they could get at some point. There was just something in the air that made the pony twitchy… either that, or it was paranoia rearing its ugly mug.
As they reached the tent and he inspected Lucky’s rather curious collection of alchemical equipment he passed him both his armour and the oil. If the alchemist was as speedy as he claimed to be, that was going to be mighty useful in a bind. Provided they would have the needed resources. But that was something to worry about once the time came. It was still questionable whether or not something was going to blow up in their faces and throw them right into Tartarus. Still, it was nice to know that if the need ever arose, Lucky could at least brew some basic tonics on the go.
“Expected as much. Prefer the internal enchantments anyway. More durable. Course you need to recharge those, but that’s what I’m there for eh?” He snorted good-naturedly. Of course one would get court marshalled for it. For all he knew sneezing wrong would get you court marshalled. It seemed to be a thing to do for, well, anything.
He passed him the last pieces of equipment, and now only held his sword in his magic grip.
“Can you do something similar for this? Or will it become too brittle then? And same restrictions? No runes and gems?” He held up the sword, thinking of something to do with it. He had a vague idea but he would have to ponder that a while longer. Once he was done with Lucky’s armour he’d have to draw up some sketches.
Taking the other ponies armour he began to carefully place it on an even surface, clean away any distracting pieces and prepare everything as he had been taught. Easing his mind into calmness he slowly began with the process of enchanting the armour. Durability was first and foremost. He wanted this armour to be able to withstand, to hold, to protect. This was what he focused on. Carefully and ever so slowly, taking time and patience he built up the enchantment and manipulated the ether. Always on the safe side, never too much, wouldn’t want that thing to blow up in his face. Wouldn’t leave much of his face if it did and Lucky would most like be caught in the blast as well, not something he wanted.
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Post by Red Charge on Dec 27, 2014 9:16:41 GMT -5
Lucky Drops was busy smoking some burning chips into a decanter filled with an odd liquid, he glanced back to see what Fantasy was talking about and grinned, "Oh that, well, I've get plenty of things for that. There's nothing to strengthen the metal, no need either, no what you want on that baby is poison. Boy do I have poison. If there's one thing you find a plenty in the savannah it's things who have poison. We apply that in the field for maximum effect." The alchemist explained.
Lucky's potion making was mesmerising. The speed in which he worked, the elegance of his movements, was like watching an experienced bartender making a cocktail. The bubbling, smoking and dropping of liquid filled Fantasy's ears, it was pleasant and addicting. Lucky was not making one thing though, apparently, he was making a liquid based coating at the same time he was working on an oil based one. He worked fast and fluently. No moment was spent watching his liquids distill or puff smoke on the odd occasion.
The pale amber unicorn's horn was always busy puffing magical flames, or shaking or decanting liquids, or otherwise pulling up more instrument such as a wide brush ready to apply the liquid based coating to his armor. The liquid base was ready long before the oil base and so the application of it was done quickly and evenly. It shun brightly on the armor before apparently seeping into the metal.
"You know, maybe they're trying to make some kind of Ace Team, with field enchanters and alchemists ... you know dangerous missions behind enemy lines. Or they need more people for kitchen duty, who knows."
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Post by Fantasy Script on Dec 30, 2014 6:17:52 GMT -5
Script nodded slowly. Poison was a nice touch to any weapon. Having even a glancing cut be deadly, or at least dangerous, was an edge that was not to be underestimated. Watching Lucky as he worked was fascinating though, the fluency and competency with which he worked spoke of years of experience. While Script was certainly familiar and comfortable with enchanting he was sure he still lacked that easy confidence which made it all seem so effortless.
Then again, he probably would never have such flare, he tended to be very focused and worked very methodically to prevent mistakes. There was much that could go wrong while coaxing the ether inside something into a certain shape. While he laid the enchantments on the armour he pondered what to do with the weapons. With poison as an option he could probably scratch any elemental enchantments as they would counteract the poison that is supposed to coat the weapon. Fire would burn it or at least dry it out, ice… that might be an idea: A weapon that freezes its liquid coating and produces poisonous shards that then infect the wounds. Of course having frozen shrapnel coat the weapon was generally a rather dastardly idea and frostbite wasn’t a very nice experience either, though the enchantment would have to be rather strong and refined to reach such levels.
It was worth a shot though; then again he still didn’t know how much he was allowed to play with the weapons. Rune based might be a better idea overall since lugging around a freezing cold sword wasn’t his idea of fun.
Lucky’s comment brought him back from his ruminations and made him snort.
“Let’s hope it’s the former. I’m not much a fan of cooking.” Script watched the enchantments, checking them over before he was satisfied and began with the next part. It was slow but profitable work.
“Though the reason why they would send new recruits into some sort of suicide mission escapes me. Maybe they need people with certain talents… but I would expect at least some sort of crash course or training. Anything to prepare us.”
He shook his head slowly.
“We’ll see I guess… By the way, what do you think about frost elemental enchantments on the weapons? The poison would freeze, staying on longer and wouldn’t drip off but form poisonous flakes that would melt in the wounds. Plus, frostbite and ice shrapnel that rips nastier wounds. How’s that sound to you?”
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Post by Red Charge on Jan 3, 2015 15:51:21 GMT -5
"No, no, don't enchant it. It's pointless." Lucky Drops said, as he continued to work. He gave out a long sigh, "Like I said, magic and magic don't work together. I can't use magical poisons on it if you enchant it and if it has an enchantment, treating the blade becomes a hazard and I can't do anything to it in the field. Just do the armor."
They continued to work like this for the better part of the day, with nothing of importance happening. At some point during the day, Lucky was called to help the new recruits again, he returned only after dinner, which Fantasy spent with the armory ponies, who seemed happy to chat with him about armor and enchanting. One of the cook ponies, a rather cute female unicorn handed Fantasy a packed meal to bring back to Lucky, funny how Lucky didn't even have to ask for other ponies to shower him with favors. Lucky finally got back to the tent after dark, seeming exhausted.
"Ugh, these new guys are nothing like you. What an uncultured gang. I swear they'll get kicked out within days. Kept arguing with everyone, made such a mess in the medical pavilion they had to call a couple of guards to throw them out. They never even made it to the armory because they didn't want to give up their own stuff, not that it's any good, it's absolute junk and scrap metal. Had to chase them around for hours to try and convince them and eventually they just decided to settle in one of the buildings and keep to themselves. I swear Trottingham is just euch." Lucky said, "Hope you've been having a better day than I have!"
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Post by Fantasy Script on Jan 6, 2015 14:31:59 GMT -5
Script blinked, confused and looked at Lucky as he worked.
“So wait, I know I’m pants at alchemy but… you’re going to add magic poison that changes the magic of the weapons which will in turn interfere with the enchantments, but the coating on the armour is different?”
Suddenly he just shrugged.
“Eh, you’re the expert.”
Lucky got called away later on; apparently a new slew of fresh meat had come around to help the war effort. Script just hoped they were decent folk. Never knew when some idiots would come around and foul things up. Maybe they had the ponies needed for their super secret assignment that was so secret that probably no one had any idea it was being planned leading to two recruits just sitting around on their hoofs doing nothing.
He frowned.
Surely they would get some sort of assignment soon. He was glad for the time to prepare, certainly, but if Lucky had been sitting around for days already… well. Although this gave them ample time to train and prepare, which was good. Once he was done with the armour he would have to see whether there was still a library standing. A bit of touching up on his enchantment knowledge would surely cheer him up. Enchantment theory usually did. And since this was Canterlot there might still be some interesting tomes around that hadn’t been destroyed that he could have a peek at. Hopefully… maybe. Too bad he couldn’t just stroll into the royal library. That would be just fantastic.
Alas, that would be a dream.
As the day went on Script slowly worked himself through the pile of armour pieces, the routine of the enchantment slowly allowing him to speed up the process, by the time meal time rolled around he was almost done and put the second to last piece down. Stretching and popping some vertebrae into place with a satisfying crack he made his way over to the mess hall. Getting his share he walked around for a bit, searching for some free space until he spotted the ponies working the armoury, one of them was waving him over, the same one he had already had a hearty discussion about his favourite topic. Not minding a bit of company after a whole afternoon of peaceful work and happy to have a conversation partner that enjoyed his hobby almost as much as himself he made his way over.
Lunch passed mostly uneventfully.
As Script was about to leave one of the ponies manning the kitchen came up to him, a rather cute female that was quite easy on the eyes. She handed him a small package of food for Lucky that he pretty please deliver to him. Script just nodded accepting the package without much complaint. Lucky’s influence sure stretched far. Even without him nearby someone was looking out for him, showering him with favours and affection. As the little cutie left Script could only shake his head slowly, not exactly surprised and more amused.
Carefully tucking the package away he made his way back to the tent that, for all intents and purposes had become home for now. Upon his return he put the package on Lucky’s bed before he took hold of the last little piece of armour that needed his gentle touch. It took only a little while before he finally pronounced his work done. Stretching once more Script was about to make his way through the rebuilding city in hopes of finding something that resembled a library when Albion suddenly popped up from places unknown with a bit of rope in his mouth.
Spotting his owner he hopped up to him, presenting the surprisingly clean piece of rope to him, wagging his tail excitedly. Script just stared at him.
The fox wagged his tail, entirely too happy with his find.
Script sighed.
“Alright, we’ll play.”
Jumping up and down excitedly the fox put the rope down. What followed was a perfect example of the fact that foxes aren’t quite dogs but aren’t exactly cats either. Albion followed the flying rope as Script threw it and brought it back, pulled and tugged with him as they had a little tug-o’-war and swatted at it as it was dangled in front of his face like it was a piece of string.
The rest of the evening was spent much like this and the little fox was rather exhausted and dozing on his owner’s chest, who in turn was resting on his bedroll staring at the at the stars and lost in thought, when Lucky returned.
Script snorted. “You look like horse apples Lucky.”
“Uncultured eh? Coming from the pony who thought I was going to slaughter him in his sleep?”
Despite the barb Script wasn’t exactly happy about the picture Lucky was painting of the new arrivals. Chaos was something this city didn’t need right now and some useless trouble makers certainly weren’t something that could be tolerated right now. Sure he had argued, sure he had wished he had been allowed to keep his own stuff, but at least he had given this gear a chance and by the Princesses was he glad that he did… even if he did miss his own hunk of metal.
Shaking his head slowly he murmured some curses in his non-existent beard.
“Had a good day, myself, finished the armour by the way. As good as I can make it.”
He pointed at the small parcel resting on Lucky’s bed.
“Got some food for you, that little cutie in the mess hall was quite insistent that you get that.”
Snorting again Script leaned back, his hoofs crossed behind his head.
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Post by Red Charge on Jan 6, 2015 14:53:31 GMT -5
The pale amber unicorn yawned heavily and scowled at Fantasy Script's first comments. He did light up, however, at the mention of food.
"How delightful." Lucky clapped his hooves, "Honey Drizzle really has her eye on me. Alas, my eyes are set on another and I simply cannot bring myself to break her heart." He pulled out another necklace hidden in his neck fur and opened it, revealing a picture of a blonde and lilac pony with a little filly suspiciously having the same eyes as Lucky. "She never forgave me when she found out I was doing favors. I want to make them proud."
He dug into the bag of food fervently, adding between chews, "Also, we might be getting some work soon I think. The recruitment officer implied something might be up soon. Thanks for the armor by the way." He added, "The reason armor reacts better to enchantments and coating is firstly because direct enchantments are withing the armor, whereas the coat is on top of it. Unlike a sword where the magic is activated or otherwise engulfs the weapon. Also, these are chemical enhancements, not magical. Magical coats wear off a lot faster, makes no sense to apply them just like that and it's not more effective than what I'm doing."
He continued to eat up the food, "So what's up with the fox? I never asked." He said, using his telekinesis to examine his armor and once satisfied, set it aside near his bed.
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Post by Fantasy Script on Jan 6, 2015 15:34:45 GMT -5
Script looked at the locked, studying the picture inside for a moment. The mare was quite a lovely sight and he’d go straight to Tartarus if that weren’t Lucky’s eyes looking back at him from the little ones face. Seemed he wasn’t the only one trying to make his family proud.
“Family eh? Can get behind that.”
He perked up, eager, as the other pony mentioned work that might be coming along their way.
“Any details?”
Finally something to do! Hopefully it would be something at least moderately useful. He would do guard duty or play escort, but he did hope to do something more substantial. Script was of course aware that he was a simple recruit, but he hoped to be able to prove himself at some point.
“Bah, don’t mention it. It’s what I’m good at, might as well keep us both alive.”
Nodding along to the explanation Script slowly petted Albion, the little bugger snoring peacefully still, not in the least perturbed by the conversation going on around him. Surprised at the sudden question directed at his pet, Script blinked.
“Eh? Uh. Little guy here, found him one time when I was out in the white. Got separated from his mum I think. Pitiful little fuzzball he was.”
He shook his head slowly and kneaded the fox’s ear, earning an appreciative yip.
“Couldn’t leave him there so I took him home with me. Has been with me ever since. Intelligent that one, don’t let him fool you.”
He looked down at the white fox, remembering when he had first met him and the subsequent days. Good times. Script smiled a little.
“I think he’s the reason I’m actually not a slobbering psychopath.”
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Post by Red Charge on Jan 12, 2015 10:21:00 GMT -5
Lucky scarfed down the rest of the food while Fantasy talked, fast enough to show he was very hungry but careful enough not to mess up the tent. He was an alchemist after all, alchemists never leave a mess behind. Not the good ones anyway.
"You're not?" The alchemist asked, "Could have fooled me!" He said to Fantasy's last statement.
"Oh and yeah," Lucky said, brightening up, "I caught a word or two about us being partnered up with a pony called, get this and I'm NOT joking. 'Max Force'." Lucky chuckled, "I don't know if that's a code name, but if that's a real name, dang... those must have been some kickin' parents to name him like that."
"If they're going to tell us anything it'll be tomorrow. Kind of a shame really. Guess I'll have to turn in some of my stuff to my deposit. Ugh. Field work is going to be such a drag and you know, I really hope it won't end up with us just digging trenches or outhouses."
He turned back to his alchemy set and began cooking up something. He didn't say what it was but very soon he had provided two little vials, one he kept to himself and the other he gave to Fantasy.
"For an exciting assignment." He toasted.
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