>>42792557
>this op pic again

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PiE no DiE (again)

>>42792565
It's a good pic what do you want.

Here's an oldie.

>Be Anonymous.
>Be in Ancient Equestria.
>Everybody else out worshiping Celestia or Luna or Discord or something.
>You worship The Great Grape. Everyone laughs at you, but they don't know why your faith is so strong.
>Your God talks to you.
>Even when you don't want her to.
>A knock comes from your door.
"Oh great..."
>You rise to your feet, open the door, and who should be standing there swaying while the griffins from Her chariot shit on your fucking lawn?
"Hello, Lady Berrysus." you mutter.
>"AAHHHH-*HIC*-HHHNOOOOOON~...HOW'S M'FAVORITE ACACOLYTE, BUDS?"
>She sways to one side, almost losing Her balance.
>With practiced speed, you dive down and hold her up.
"AAAAAAWWWWWW, THA'S THA -*HIC*- SHTUFF I SPECT FR'M MY NUMBER ONE PRIEST, WOOOOO!" Berrysus shouts as she holds her chalice high before tossing her head back and downing the contents.
"I...live to serve you, Lady Berrysu-"
>"SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH! SH SH SH SH SH!"
>She paps her hoof on your mouth a few times as She shushes you.
"Ano-Anon. Sshhh. Don' talk. I-I need to tell you somefing..."
>You look into her magenta eyes.
>"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII luf you, 'Nonymous. I luv you a whooooooole lot."
>You feel your cheeks redden.
"L-lady Berry-
>"GIB US A KISSY, AHNON!"
>Berrysus throws her chalice behind her and proceeds to make out...
>...with your eye.
>As She glides her tongue over your eyelid, you try to calm her down.
"Uhhm, Miss Berrysus, I think tha-"
>*hurk!*
>What?
>You look her in the eye long enough to catch her bringing her hooves to her mouth a second too late as the wine colored vomit comes rocketing out of her.
>It shoots out with such force that you're thrown against the wall at the rear of your house.
>When your vision clears, you see Berrysus passed out on the floor.
>She pissed herself.
>Fucking drunk Gods.

>You are Anonymous and you have made a startling discovery.
>The ponies with which you live have ass tattoos that work like scratch and sniff.
>It had all started when Applejack had asked you to scratch her flank like she had Spike do.
>You did as you were asked and were surprised to smell apples wafting up from her hindquarters.
>At first you that it was just her natural smell, but you did the same to Pinkie Pie and smelled cotton candy!
>You needed more. All the possible smells to smell!
>You ran through town wide eyed.
"SOMEP0NY! ANYP0NY! LET ME SMELL YOUR MARKS~!"
>Needless to say, you were getting some looks.
>Twilight came up behind you "Anonymous, what are you DOING!?"
"SCRATCH AND SNIFF!"
>You grab Twilight by the asscheeks and drag her up to your nose. Your fingers run across her cutie mark at high speed before you dive in and breathe deep.
>Aaaahhhh~ Purple drank and ozone~
>Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Fluttershy.
"FLUTTERS!"
>She lets out a surprised "EEEEP!" as you run over and stick your nose into her flank.
>What greeted you was the scent of flowers in spring.
"AAAAAH~! THE PUNGENT PERFUME OF POINGENT POSIES!"
>Fluttershy has stopped working and locked up.
>It was too good to be true! All the scents in this town were amazing!
>The sweetest candy! Happy children! Antiseptic! Body oder!
>That might have just been Zecora though. Bitch needed to take a bath.
>Just because she was a zebra didn't mean she didn't have to bathe.
>"WHO ASSAULTS MY SUBJECTS SO!?" someone shouts.
>Your mind full of scent, you run over to the voice and tackle the flank to the ground.
>What fills your nostrils is the smell of infinity. Of infinite blackness and whirling dust clouds. Cold winters eves and hot summers nights.
"Wh-who's magnificent flank is THIS!?
>You open your eyes to see that same infinite blackness and a landscape you did not recognize. Before you was a blue and green planet.
"Oh..."

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>>42792782
I...I..I FEAR I'LL SURELY LOSE MY SENSES IF I'M NOT PERMITTED TO SNIFF PONY PUCKERS!!

>>42792797
Zebra

>"I see the icon that means the camera is on."
>You clear your throat and ready your mic.
"We're here...in the beautiful Cervidan Planes, observing one of Equestria's most splendiforous creatures...The Red Bodied Ostrich!
>Zecora pans the camera over your shoulder and captures the Ostrich on film.
"A quiet people who scientists claim are JUST on the cusp achieving sentience on an evolutionary scale, the Red Bodied Ostrich is truly one of the rarer sights in Cervidas due to the Diamond dog poachers that infest the region's southern hemisphere."
>The Ostrich lifts its head up and looks at the camera with it's enormous eye.
"Poppet! Get a-
>"Worry not about the cam, for on this specimen, I already am."
>Great Nelson's Trousers, you loved that mare.
>The Ostrich walks over to the two of you, closing the distance with its long legs in seconds.
"By George!"
>No one had ever gotten footage this close to one before!
>Zecora pans the camera up to match the creatures height and the-
>*THOCK*
>"Gah!"
"Dearest!"
>The Ostrich rears back and strikes forward again, this time pecking Zecora on the shoulder.
>"Away from me you fowl bird! Return yourself back to your herd!" she cries.
>The bird doesn't let up and keeps pecking, Zecora backs off and breaks into a gallop to escape the rouge Ostrich.
"Hang on, Sweetums!"
>You run up and grab the tripod before taking off after the two.
>This would make GREAT footage on the Ostrich's defense tactics!

>>42792797
>>42792815
HE'S GONNA SAY IT

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i'm back with one half of a large-ish chapter

02 - Ascertain Relative Location

>Gently, you float up and away from nearly dreamless sleep.
>Sensation returns in divine fashion, touch restored by a soothing ocean of silken down enveloping you from torso to toes.
>The rhythmic chime of an EKG monitor divvies up the otherwise continuous dull roar of indistinguishable voices, gently prodding you further awake.
>Brash notes of disinfectants and other chemical agents assault your sensibilities with a wanton cleanliness that borders on the psychotic.
>Harsh light overhead penetrates the sanctity of your crusted shut eyes.
>Then, as if begrudged by the world itself, the throbbing arrives.
>Wave after wave, your stomach churns as the migraine spreads beneath your skull, rootstalks growing through brain matter.
>Far and away, it isn’t the worst pain to have ever graced your head, but it’s agony all the same.
>Slowly, deliberately, your hand obeys your desire to reach up and rub your temples. There’s no relief, of course; the only comfort you’re afforded is the relief of being able to move at all.
>You slowly open your eyes, struggling to adjust under the sterile glare of fluorescent bulbs. Shielded by your outstretched hand, though, the miasma of a fresh awakening eventually dissipates.
>A sprawl of alabaster ceiling tiles sits overhead, dotted by specks of ash like the inverse of a night sky.
>Head on an aching swivel, you pan around and soak in the muted greens and inoffensive grays of your lodgings.
>The room itself is relatively spacious - plenty of room for a gaggle of sorry sods like yourself, but much to your surprise, it’s all solely for you.
>Looking down, you’re caught somewhat off guard by what you’re lying on; rather than a single cot, two child-size beds have been pushed end-to-end to fully accommodate you.
>As if that weren’t off-putting enough, you trace the myriad wires suctioned to your bare chest back to an EKG that looks like it stepped straight out of a retro-science catalogue.
>Various jars and bins tucked neatly into the corners of countertops housed tools that followed the same archaic styling, centuries removed from anything you could tangibly recognize. None of it would look out of place caked in mold and dust, but against all odds, everything seems pristinely kept.
>Whoever found you must be in dire straits, relying on tech this old. It’s a wonder they were able to keep you alive at /all/.
>Your fingers glide smoothly over the grooves of your philtrum and come away completely clean, not a hint of dried blood between the grooves of your prints.
>How the hell did they bring you back from a bleed that severe…?
>As if reminded by its current predicament, your head throbs anew, the constrictive pain flaring to new heights.
>Your eyes shutter closed once more, both hands desperately shielding them into complete darkness.
>The gesture is all but useless; the pain persists.

>>42792998
>Critical thought is squashed to null - the wordless, riotous ruckus beneath your skull has no place for it.
>Minutes pass by at an unbearable crawl until you hear the resounding click of a door being pulled open. Whoever’s come into your room takes great care to close it as quietly as possible, no doubt holding the handle downward until the latch slots into its housing without a sound.
>You don’t bother opening your eyes to greet them; not while light fancies itself your assailant.
>“Oh, you’re awake now!” an older woman softly cheered. “Good, good. How are you feeling, sir?”
>A cavalcade of pressing questions fight to leave your lips, but you deign to stick to the essentials.
“I’m…”
>You struggle against your weakened mind, basic speech in jeopardy of failing outright.
“…Fine,” you answer tersely, voice hoarse beyond recognition. “How long was I asleep?”
>Footsteps echo off of the tiled floor in an incredibly odd gait, like two people wearing dress shoes trying to keep in time with each other.
>“Just under four days,” the stranger says. “For a moment, we were worried you might’ve started regressing into a coma. With your unique anatomy, supportive care would’ve been uncharted territory.”
>…Odd comment aside, you’re surprised you /didn’t/ fall into a coma. Either fortune is in your favor, or you have one hell of a doctor looking after you.
“Where am I?”
>“We’re in Gemstone Township, just south of the Crystal Empire,” she explains, still cheery. “A good samaritan brought you in after he found you unconscious in the outskirts of town.”
>Relief, however miniscule, takes root in the anxious tangle underneath your ribs. Guarded though you may be, mere proximity to a colony is a reassurance you hadn’t dared to hope for.
>Regardless, a myriad of questions remain.
“How far are we from the Navel?”
>“…The what?” she asks, politely confused.
“The Navel of God,” you extrapolate. “The coastal colony. Surely, you’ve heard of it?”
>“I can’t say that I have. Is it coastal to the Luna Ocean, or the Celestia Sea?”
>…The /what/?
>You’d throw a look of bewilderment in her direction if your eyes weren’t still screwed shut in pain.
“It’s in the Anatolian peninsula.”
>You can almost hear the gears in her head churning away at full speed.
“We’re still in West Asia… right?”
>“I’ve never heard of anywhere like that,” she says, almost as confused as you are. “We’re in the northernmost region of Equestria right now, though. Does that ring any bells for you?”
>…Are you being fucked with right now?
“/No/,” you answer, deadpan. “I don’t even know what-”
>You grimace as another wave of pins and needles wracks your skull from the inside out. An involuntary groan escapes your lips, uneven and pathetic.

>>42792999
>Your fingers, distant and delayed, lightly brush your oil-slicked forehead. The sensation feels alien, as if you were touching someone else.
>“Oh! Hold on /just/ a moment, sugar,” she says as you hear her rummage through drawers. “This should help with the pain. Do you take your pills with or without water?”
“With.”
>Ordinarily, you’d tell her to shove that pill where the sun doesn’t shine, but pain always tends to make questionable choices on your behalf.
>A briefly running faucet serves as something to focus on other than your withering synapses, and moments later, you hear her oddly paced footsteps draw closer to your bedside.
>“Alright,” she says. “Bottoms up!”
>With great effort, you manage to sit yourself up onto your haunches, one arm behind you for support.
>Your eyes flit open, squinting against the overhead halogens, but when they find your mysterious benefactor, you physically recoil.
>The first thing about her that you properly clock is her outstretched appendage, sleeved in short, baby blue fur and terminating in sleek, rounded keratin of a similar, darker coloration. The fur is mottled by disparate patches of gray and white, like smudges from a hasty paint brush.
>Following its length to terminus, you find that its owner is a quadruped, the remaining three appendages planted firmly on the tile below.
>Her oblong body seems to be covered in the same fur as the limb, apart from a strange pattern on her rear that you can’t quite make out from this angle. Tucked just out of sight is a white tail, the ends of which peek through her hind legs.
>She’s carrying what looks like a messenger bag, a specialized harness holding it flush to her left side.
>Her head, though properly proportioned for her body, is larger than you anticipated, a fair chunk of it taken up by her concerned eyes. Adorning it, akin to a crown, is a nurse’s cap, folded neatly and tilted just so.
>A thick line of white fur runs from her hair down to the tip of her snout, where her mouth hangs slightly agape in surprise.
>From the depths of your memory, a candlelit lesson about long-extinct wildlife resurfaces.
>/She’s a horse/.
>Rather, an approximation of one. The name of the smaller variant always seems to escape you.
>“Are you alright, sir?” she asks as she sets the pill down on your bedside table, where she left the glass of water.
>The subtler movements of her facial muscles underneath skin and fur unnerve you further, but you do your best to prevent it from registering.
“…No. No, I’m hallucinating.”
>Her eyes soften as a smile returns to her lips.
>“Don’t worry,” she reassures you. “It’s just a harmless side effect of the procedure we conducted. You’ll be right back to normal before you know it.”
“You got a timetable for that?”
>“A few more hours before the medicine wears off, give or take.”

>>42793007
>Another wave of pain cascades over your face, akin to someone taking a sledgehammer to the back of your eyes.
>Unceremoniously, you take the pill and drop it on your tongue, a swig of water following quickly.
>Your nerves heighten as you feel it travel down into your labyrinthine intestines.
>So much for being guarded.
“How’d you keep me alive?” you ask as you lay back down. “My brain may as well have been leaking out of my nose.”
>“Funnily enough, your massive nosebleed was the easiest part of treating you,” she says as she takes the cup and washes it in a nearby sink.
>“The more serious issues were your symptoms of a traumatic brain injury. Even our most experienced diagnostic specialists couldn’t pinpoint a cause; every full-body scanning spell in our repertoire came up blank. They even tried /scrying/ to find out what happened to you, but predictably, it didn’t work.”
>She sets the cup on the counter and turns her attention fully to you.
>“We did everything we could to bring you back to a state of relative normalcy,” she says, her tone softer. “While we seem to have succeeded in terms of cognitive function, it’s likely that you’ll still undergo the physical symptoms of your injury for an indeterminate amount of time.”
>She pulls a document out of her bag and hands it to you, the paper still warm from being freshly printed.
>“Here’s your continued care sheet. You’ll still need to remain in-hospital for a few more days to make sure no complications arise from the treatment, but after that, you’ll be free to go!”
>Lifelessly, you sit up and leaf through the handout, weary eyes only catching on words and phrases designed to break your spirit.
>Your list of possible symptoms alone is enough.
>Sudden loss of consciousness, ranging from minutes to several hours.
>Intense, persistent headaches.
>Loss of coordination and general weakness of muscle tissue.
>Convulsions. /Seizures/.
“Is there /any/ chance I’ll be symptom-free again?”
>Sympathy overrides her previously disarming expression.
>“It’s unlikely, sir. Over time, they may ease up in terms of intensity, but TBI symptoms are usually lifelong.”
>Your hand goes limp, the document careening carelessly onto your lap.
>Even as you spit in death’s face, Omer still gets the last laugh.
>Forget the toll it may have taken on your piloting capabilities; there’s no corporation on the planet that’ll medically clear you to fly with how fucked up you are.
>…
>…That’s it, then.
>No backing out this time.
>Just like you promised.
>A chest-deep tumult winds, tightening the more thought you give the predicament.
“…Right,” you sigh, doing your best to put it to bed for the time being. “Listen, what corporation does this place belong to? I wanna know who just put a pill down my throat.”
>Her oversized eyebrow hikes in confusion.

>>42793008
>“We’re funded by the crown,” she explains. “I don’t think a single hospital in the general Equestrian region operates otherwise.”
>That rules out any of Omer’s shell companies, but you’re not exactly out of the woods yet. If you can figure out who they’re operating under, you might be able to suss out your general location.
“Who’re they a subsidiary of? GA? Interior Union?”
>“We’re /federally/ owned and operated, sir.”
“So, the League as a whole cuts your checks, then?”
>She squints her eyes at you for a moment before her brow unfurrows in realization.
>“I apologize,” she says, bringing her hoof to her face in embarrassment for a moment. “I hadn’t even considered any possible cultural differences we might have. What sort of government does your society follow?”
>You briefly glance around the room to ensure you aren’t the ass-end of an unfunny joke.
“…The League of Ruling Companies,” you reply, bewildered.
>“Well, that’s the first I’ve heard of a business being in charge,” she says, a tad amused as she blows smoke up your ass. “Locally, we’re governed by the Prince and Princess of the Crystal Empire, but we’re also a sub-territory of greater Equestria, which is ruled by the Diarchy of the Two Sisters.”
>…
>You wait for some kind of punchline, but no such relief arrives; she simply holds your dumbfounded gaze.
>The combat stimulants must still be in your system, reacting negatively with the medicine; making you hear things incorrectly.
>Or is it some kind of weird, trauma-induced AMS psychosis?
>It’s one or the other, obviously, because you can’t believe for a single, solitary moment that any of this frou-frou bullshit is coming out of any sane cunt’s mouth, illusory horse or otherwise.
>Actually, you know what?
>Maybe it /is/ Omer. Poking at your fucking brain, seeing what makes you tick; you’re no different from those POWs, now.
>Or you’re in hell. Serves you right, if that’s the case.
>Maybe you’re not even-
>“Sir?”
>A gentle, concerned hoof finds its way onto your shoulder. Your equine nurse has crossed the room and now stands firmly within your personal space, her sizable eyes combing your own.
>The subtle scent of raspberries preoccupies your nose.
>“You looked like you were about to pass out,” she exhales, stepping back. “I’ll let you get some rest - it’s late, anyhow.”
>/Get out/, you want to yell.
“Yeah, that’s… sure.”
>She scurries about the room as she gathers her equipment, her measured pace long-since practiced. Just as she reaches the door, she turns to face you one last time.
>“Doctor Bonesaw will be by tomorrow to ask you some questions now that you’re awake. If you need anything overnight, just press that button by your headboard, and a nurse will be with you shortly. Sweet dreams, sir!”

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>>42793011
>She reaches up with one of her hooves and turns the overheads off. You keep your jaw clinched shut as she disappears beyond the threshold, her humming cut short by the click of the industrial door.

no link yet, looks like ponepaste is down for now. i'll update that whenever it's back online, i won't make promises anymore about time frames but it'll be soon. as a show of apology for taking so long, in addition to the next half of the chapter, i'll also be posting my very first go at tasteful, shameless smut.

>>42793019
clarification - the PPaste will be updated ASAP, the next chapter is the thing that's "soon"

>>42792572
Thank you for your service

>>42793019
>tasteful, shameless smut.
lmao