[6] Action for Violet/Everywhere [Fourth Wall Event]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake is in his apartment minding his own business when there's a flash of light.]

When it fades, nothing seems different for a minute. All's normal and as it should be, everything in its place. After a second, it sinks in. There's something that's been out of place for months, and all of a sudden the feeling of nakedness is gone.]

[He pats his side, and there's the good, reassuring weight of his gun, right where it should be. He takes it out to give it a look over, and it's exactly as he remembers it. He puts it back and feels more himself than he has since he got to this damn place.]

[That's when he notices there's a lot of strange noises outside.]

[Blake opens the door and steps out.]

[He takes a good look at around.]

[He thinks it over.]

Nope.

[He turns around to go back inside.]

Comments

[lieutenantantichrist]

No. We don't. They're not a real thing, just stories for little girls, and weird cartoons with that band that did A Horse With No Name.

[Blake may be rambling just a little.]

I mean, they're supposed to hang around children and shit. Nice people.

[Blake's one of the good guys, but he knows he's nowhere approaching nice.]

[He rocks back on his heels, trying to keep his balance.]

Horses have attorneys?

[artofthestress]

Well, maybe we should be visiting those who are less nice and teach them some lessons! [ She smiles. ] Though I find you remarkably more agreeable when confronted with the truth.

And oh yes, of course we do. How do you think we get by when one of us gets in a spot of legal trouble? [ This makes perfect sense, Blake. What about this does not make perfect sense, hmm? ]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Agreeable, shellshocked, same thing.]

[shakily] I don't need any lessons from magic horsies.

[he swallows] You go to horse court. When you get horse...sued.

[His eyes widen with just a touch of held-back mania]

The problem with the juries is nobody every votes 'aye'!

[artofthestress]

Not necessarily. [ She looks at him with concern. ] Blake, maybe you should sit down. [ She magics over a nearby chair. ]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[A worried-looking unicorn isn't helping his sanity any.]

[Blake falls back right where there happens to be a chair. He's staring at the wall.]

Got a whole hose society, huh. Horsciety.

Horse jail. Horse police. Horse whores on heroin, but what do they call it?

[artofthestress]

You're speaking nonsense. I think you need a glass of water. It's what I do whenever I get overly anxious. [ She trots into Blake's kitchen to find him something. ]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake's just going to look at the floor for a while. Nice, reliable carpet. Same old stains.]

[And now a couple hoof-shaped indentations.]

[dizzily] Glasses...are up in the cabinet. Horse can't reach.

[artofthestress]

[ She cries out from the kitchen in a sing-song voice: ] Levitation!!

[ And returns with a glass of water. ] Here. Drink this.

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake half-hears.] The Bible's got nothing to do with this.

[He reaches blindly for the glass in his peripheral vision. He gets the feeling looking straight at how the horse is carrying it would be a bad idea.]

[Blake glugs it down. Too bad it's just water. He could use something a lot stronger. He'd worry about there being anything funny in it if he weren't halfway to the farm already. Can't exactly get worse.]

[He sets the empty glass down on the nearest horizontal surface. Turns out to by the horse's back.]

[artofthestress]

[ Rarity flips the empty glass off her back and catches it with her magic, then sets it down on the floor. ]

Levitation, dear. Unicorn magic. Are you feeling any better? Is there something else I can get you?

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake does his very, very best not to see that.]

Unicorn magic isn't gonna help.

[He's been looking steadfastly at a nice, reliable spot on the wall. Slowly, carefully, he lets his eyes slide over. Purple tail. Two legs. Four legs. Purple mane. Head. Big blue eyes, eyelashes. Horn.]

[Very cautiously, he tries reaching out to touch her head. Just to see if it'll really be there,]

[artofthestress]

[ Rarity lets him, frowning a little bit. This isn't exactly ladylike to allow this, but she wants him to accept that she is a graceful unicorn. ]

Satisfied?

[lieutenantantichrist]

[His fingers are resting on something solid. It doesn't shock or burn him. Blake has a very coherent, intelligent conclusion.]

Huh.

Kinda furry.

[artofthestress]

An astute observation. [ Drily. ] I'll have you know that fur takes a lot of work to be as soft as it is.

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake's eyes have a very carefully balanced distance to them] Astute. You get that from a horse word of the day calendar?

Sure. Must be expensive conditioner.

[Okay. Gonna try it. What's the worst that can happen?]

[Blake taps very lightly on the horn with his fingernails.]

[artofthestress]

Ahh! Be careful! [ She shies away from Blake's fingers and glares at him. ] I am a graceful unicorn, not a common zoo animal!

[lieutenantantichrist]

Yeah, yeah, sorry.

[He sounds more distant than remorseful. It didn't feel like plastic. More like ivory or something.]

So....

You grant wishes?

[artofthestress]

... beg pardon? No. I design fashion, I spend time with my friends, and I indulge my sister Sweetie Belle when she's staying over, but I do not grant wishes. You must have me confused with a genie.

[lieutenantantichrist]

Magic things. What's the difference?

You have a sister. There's families of you things.

[Each mundane detail makes it more bizarre.]

[artofthestress]

I object fiercely to you calling ponies things! Would you like it if I called YOU an "ape"?

[lieutenantantichrist]

I've gotten called that one a few times. Pig's a lot more common, though. Oh, and once, "lice out of Satan's ass hair." That guy was pretty creative.

[artofthestress]

Well, none of them are accurate or even befitting a man of your stature, no matter how rude or invasive! You are a man, and deserve to be called one!

[lieutenantantichrist]

My stature, huh.

[Blake leans back, mind working slowly but surely. The rude and invasive part slides right past.]

[His ego is the right thing to appeal to.]

I kinda like the sound of that.

Horse or not, you've got some decent judgment.

[artofthestress]

I should think so! I try to stay very in touch with the dialogue of the times! Still, you have a little ways to go before I'd considered you a gentleman, just yet. [ She looks a little disdainfully at him. ]

[lieutenantantichrist]

Yeah. Can't have a magic horse out of date. That'd just be weird.

Hah. I wouldn't wanna be a gentleman. Stuck up pricks who never get their own hands dirty. No thanks.

[Blake is working class and proud.]