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A Green Lantern in Equestria, Part 11 (Lyra's Tale, Part 2)

By: Deadbeat on Jun 16th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 10.65 KB | hits: 82 | expires: Never

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>You are Anon Ymous of Rann, Green Lantern of Sector 2828.
>You are chained to the wall of the basement of one mint green unicorn named Lyra Heartstrings.
>For some odd reason, you are not bothered by this.
>Mostly because Lyra is telling you a story.
>Her story.
>It began with her abduction into a place called WarWorld.
>You'd heard stories about this place from other Lanterns while you were training.
>You knew how this story was going to end.
>But you didn't know how it would end for her, how she survived, and why afterword she embraced a life of space piracy.
>All you knew is it involved a Kryptonian.
>The last Kyrptonian.
>(Allegedly).
>So there you remained.
>Chained to a wall.
>As you listened intently to Lyra tell you how he Last Son of Krypton trained her to fight and survive in WarWorld's intergalacticly famous gladiatorial battles.
AS LYRA, MANY YEARS AGO ON WARWORLD
>You spend most of your early fights dodging and hiding, using your nimbleness to your advantage.
>You had to do little to attack, Kal said you should only strike when a)the opportunity arises, and b)when there are no other options.
>Luckily, it seems you were only brought out for large scale rumbles with multitudes of contenders.
>The other fighters took care of each other, you just dodged and avoided their attacks.
>You survived.
>And somehow...this endeared you to the crowds.
>They had a thing for a plucky underdog it seemed.
>And soon enough, the throngs were cheering for Lyra The Quick!
>Lyra the Swift!
>Lyra the Clever!
>You're not sure of the moment you began your walk down the dark path.
>It may have been when you noticed that, despite your victories, you and Kal weren't getting the star treatment that other fighters got.
>Typically the guys who win lots of fights are moved from the holding pens to luxury suites.
>They're given good food, warm beds, liquor, and a host of other decadent goodies to motivate them to win.
>You had won loads of bouts, Kal has won even more since he's been here longer.
>When you inquired about this, you were informed that your refusal give in to the crowds demands had meant that, despite your popularity, you failed to give a satisfactory conclusion.
>There's a sex joke in there...somewhere.
>That reminds you that you haven't been laid in LOOOOOOOOONG while.
>And although Kal seems nice, it doesn't look like he's into "non-humanoids" (that's what they called you, you'd roll with it).
>That was fine by you, you weren't into guys.
>And the whole "non-pony-alien" thing?
>Becoming less of an issue the longer you spent time on WarWorld.
>Sure they were freaky creatures, but they were intelligent.
>They had feelings and fears.
>You and them were more alike than you'd ever believe.
>Kal taught you that, and despite what happened with him later, you always kept that thought close to your heart.
>But back to issue of you not getting any for a while.
>The entire reason you bring this up is because you noticed that one of the ammenities the prized fighters got was access to women.
>Or men.
>They don't judge on WarWorld.
>All they demand was a good fight and a good show.
>And when the crowd wanted blood, you gave them blood.
>But no...Kal was right, you were not going to stoop to their barbaric levels.
>Not for some pussy.
>But probably for some decent food.
>The slop they fed you barely sustained you.
>If you wanted to keep winning...
>...and living...
>...you were gonna need better eats.
>You had no idea how Kal did it.
>He explained that he had odd physiology.
>That sunlight made him stronger that although Mongol (WarWorld's King/Administrator/Fight Promoter) captured him using a "red sun ray"...
>...he didn't lose all his powers in the process.
>He claimed that even though he could no longer fly (a creature that could fly without wings, you'd pay to see that) and that he couldn't use a host of other abilities that you couldn't fathom (Super-Breath? What even IS that?), he claimed to retain some of his super-powered strength and endurance.
>He also retained the ability to remain alive and at strength on an extremely minimal diet.
>Not enough to escape, mind you, he was working on that, but enough to fight and survive.
>And irony being the stone cold bitch she was, YOU were not going to survive if you did not get better food.
>And there was only one way to do that...
>It happened in your first solo fight.
>He was big, and frightening.
>He had the look of a guy who, if had the opportunity, would've raped you before he killed you and tossed your body aside like a spent, plushie rag-doll.
>He went down like a sack of potatoes when you tk-slammed a rock into head.
>You claimed his Axe and rose it high in victory.
>The crowds applauded you, but they wanted more.
>They wanted blood.
>No.
>Once again, you would do a lot for your adoring fans, but not this.
>Even if they were disappointed.
>Even if you were beaten for it.
>Even if you had to keep eating that nutrition-less slop.
>Even if hunger could make your next fight your last.
>Even if the bastard has it coming anyways.
>Even if you don't do it, someone else will, so why not do it now?
>By the time you realize it's done, you're covered in his blood and the crowd is going wild.
>Lyra the Swift, Quick, and Clever was dead.
>Lyra the Terror was born.
>They led you through the pens on your way to your new suite.
>You passed by Kal.
>Your mentor, friend, and protector.
>The person whose ideals you upheld.
>Whose ideals you just betrayed.
>He didn't look angry.
>You expected him to be angry.
>It's be better if he was angry.
>He just looked sad.
>It would not be the last time he would give you this look.
>But when it haunted your memories for years to come.
>It would always be this moment that you remembered.
>That night, you kept the vision out of your mind the assistance of a feast.
>A staggering amount of booze.
>And the company of a number of prostitutes.
>And you did the same the next night.
>And the night after that.
>And every night after you had a fight.
>And some nights that you didn't.
>Hedonism became your drive.
>You celebrated all your brutal victories with food, booze, and sex.
>Especially the sex.
>You don't remember a time before or since that you have indulged in such debauchery on such a scale.
>Part of you thinks that you may have been trying to sample the entirety of what the universe had to offer in terms of freaky alien pussy.
>The rest of you knows that you were only trying to distract yourself from what you were becoming.
>Kal, proving himself to infinitely be am better being that you were, remained your friend.
>You invited him up from the pens often, but he never indulged the way you did.
>That sad, disappointed look lingered in his back of his eyes.
>But he managed to keep it mostly at bay, understanding that you did what you did out of weakness.
>Especially where the food was concerned.
>He still shared details of the escape plan with you.
>He had brought people from the pens in on it.
>He wanted you to do the same with the prize fighters.
>It was a task that was easier to accomplish than you thought.
>With their every whim catered to, you wondered if they would even want to leave.
>Regular fights to the death and a general lack of freedom seemed to motivate them to join in.
>It was through this that you met a Thanagarian named Turl.
>Turl was a winged champion of the pits.
>And in his life before WarWorld, he was a Space Pirate.
>He said he operated in the crew of someone named Kanjar-Ro.
>He also said that he was genuinely impressed by you, he seen you on WarWorld's regular broadcasts and, in his words, I'd like to add, "never seen a creature as unassuming as you chop through so many dude's necks!"
>Turl, despite his rough exterior and more than questionable past, became your second true friend of WarWorld.
>At first you suspected that Turl had less than pure motivations for bonding with you, but you quickly learned that Turl wasn't exactly in to pony-shaped species.
>Or females at all, for that matter.
>But hey, who were you, a pony on an alien world populated by representatives from half of the universe, to judge.
>You could tell that Kal didn't like Turl, and though the feeling was mutual, both kept their feelings to themselves in the face of the need to escape.
>This didn't stop Turl from asking you such gems like:
>"Why do you hang with blue boyscout anyway? He seems like a walking buzzkill."
He's my friend, he kept me alive in here and when he gets us out of here he's taking me home!
>"Oh, right, to that bright n' happy planet of yours...what's it called again? Equestria? Tell my Ly, why do you even want to go back there?"
Duh? Because it's my home?
>"Really...okay. Let's me ask you this then, when you get back to Equestria, what're you going to do?"
...huh?
>"What're you gonna do, Ly? How're you gonna make your living, spend your days?"
I-I told you, I'm a musician, I play the Lyre and...
>"And you're just gonna forget about WarWorld? About the fighting? And the Glory? And Me? And even the boyscout? Cause let me tell you something missy, you may wanna forget WarWorld, but WarWorld ain't gonna let you forget!"
...I didn't think of that...no pony would even believe me if I told them what I've been through...
>"You're destined for greater things Ly...MUCH greater things."
>He hands you a small, glowing blue cube.
>"This here is a number you can use to contact my old boss. Tell 'em Turl sent ya. That is...if we ever get out of this dump."
>You look at small device and ponder.
>Can you really just go back to Equestria and live your life?
>After everything you've seen?
>After everything you've done?
>These thoughts haunt your mind for the next few weeks.
>Right up until WarWorld passes in range of a small, yellow star.
EQUESTRIA, PRESENT TIME, AS ANON
>Lyra just unlocked your last leg cuff as you wash off the paint in a bucket of water.
So how did Superman react to your decision?
>"Superman?"
It's what the people of the world that Kal-El lives on call him.
>"You don't say, well I'd believe it. When we made our escape, he blasted himself out of an airlock. What happened next was broadcast across the universe for everyone to see, and replayed for the next five weeks for anyone who missed it. By then, I'd made my choice. Turl died during the escape, but he made sure me and a few others were on board an evacuating shuttle."
>Lyra packs away her De-Atomizer in a lock-box and ushers you out of the basement entrance.
You still didn't answer my question.
>Lyra sighs, her next words have a bitter sadness to them.
>"How do you think he reacted?"
>She closes the doors and locks them with a resounding *click*
>Leaving you alone in the cold, Ponyville night.

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

>You are Anon Ymous of Rann, Green Lantern of Sector 2828.
>You are chained to the wall of the basement of one mint green unicorn named Lyra Heartstrings.
>For some odd reason, you are not bothered by this.
>Mostly because Lyra is telling you a story.
>Her story.
>It began with her abduction into a place called WarWorld.
>You'd heard stories about this place from other Lanterns while you were training.
>You knew how this story was going to end.
>But you didn't know how it would end for her, how she survived, and why afterword she embraced a life of space piracy.
>All you knew is it involved a Kryptonian.
>The last Kyrptonian.
>(Allegedly).
>So there you remained.
>Chained to a wall.
>As you listened intently to Lyra tell you how he Last Son of Krypton trained her to fight and survive in WarWorld's intergalacticly famous gladiatorial battles.

AS LYRA, MANY YEARS AGO ON WARWORLD

>You spend most of your early fights dodging and hiding, using your nimbleness to your advantage.
>You had to do little to attack, Kal said you should only strike when a)the opportunity arises, and b)when there are no other options.
>Luckily, it seems you were only brought out for large scale rumbles with multitudes of contenders.
>The other fighters took care of each other, you just dodged and avoided their attacks.
>You survived.
>And somehow...this endeared you to the crowds.
>They had a thing for a plucky underdog it seemed.
>And soon enough, the throngs were cheering for Lyra The Quick!
>Lyra the Swift!
>Lyra the Clever!
>You're not sure of the moment you began your walk down the dark path.
>It may have been when you noticed that, despite your victories, you and Kal weren't getting the star treatment that other fighters got.
>Typically the guys who win lots of fights are moved from the holding pens to luxury suites.
>They're given good food, warm beds, liquor, and a host of other decadent goodies to motivate them to win.
>You had won loads of bouts, Kal has won even more since he's been here longer.
>When you inquired about this, you were informed that your refusal give in to the crowds demands had meant that, despite your popularity, you failed to give a satisfactory conclusion.
>There's a sex joke in there...somewhere.
>That reminds you that you haven't been laid in LOOOOOOOOONG while.
>And although Kal seems nice, it doesn't look like he's into "non-humanoids" (that's what they called you, you'd roll with it).
>That was fine by you, you weren't into guys.
>And the whole "non-pony-alien" thing?
>Becoming less of an issue the longer you spent time on WarWorld.
>Sure they were freaky creatures, but they were intelligent.
>They had feelings and fears.
>You and them were more alike than you'd ever believe.
>Kal taught you that, and despite what happened with him later, you always kept that thought close to your heart.
>But back to issue of you not getting any for a while.
>The entire reason you bring this up is because you noticed that one of the ammenities the prized fighters got was access to women.
>Or men.
>They don't judge on WarWorld.
>All they demand was a good fight and a good show.
>And when the crowd wanted blood, you gave them blood.
>But no...Kal was right, you were not going to stoop to their barbaric levels.
>Not for some pussy.
>But probably for some decent food.
>The slop they fed you barely sustained you.
>If you wanted to keep winning...
>...and living...
>...you were gonna need better eats.
>You had no idea how Kal did it.
>He explained that he had odd physiology.
>That sunlight made him stronger that although Mongol (WarWorld's King/Administrator/Fight Promoter) captured him using a "red sun ray"...
>...he didn't lose all his powers in the process.
>He claimed that even though he could no longer fly (a creature that could fly without wings, you'd pay to see that) and that he couldn't use a host of other abilities that you couldn't fathom (Super-Breath?  What even IS that?), he claimed to retain some of his super-powered strength and endurance.
>He also retained the ability to remain alive and at strength on an extremely minimal diet.
>Not enough to escape, mind you, he was working on that, but enough to fight and survive.
>And irony being the stone cold bitch she was, YOU were not going to survive if you did not get better food.
>And there was only one way to do that...
>It happened in your first solo fight.
>He was big, and frightening.
>He had the look of a guy who, if had the opportunity, would've raped you before he killed you and tossed your body aside like a spent, plushie rag-doll.
>He went down like a sack of potatoes when you tk-slammed a rock into head.
>You claimed his Axe and rose it high in victory.
>The crowds applauded you, but they wanted more.
>They wanted blood.
>No.
>Once again, you would do a lot for your adoring fans, but not this.
>Even if they were disappointed.
>Even if you were beaten for it.
>Even if you had to keep eating that nutrition-less slop.
>Even if hunger could make your next fight your last.
>Even if the bastard has it coming anyways.
>Even if you don't do it, someone else will, so why not do it now?
>By the time you realize it's done, you're covered in his blood and the crowd is going wild.
>Lyra the Swift, Quick, and Clever was dead.
>Lyra the Terror was born.
>They led you through the pens on your way to your new suite.
>You passed by Kal.
>Your mentor, friend, and protector.
>The person whose ideals you upheld.
>Whose ideals you just betrayed.
>He didn't look angry.
>You expected him to be angry.
>It's be better if he was angry.
>He just looked sad.
>It would not be the last time he would give you this look.
>But when it haunted your memories for years to come.
>It would always be this moment that you remembered.
>That night, you kept the vision out of your mind the assistance of a feast.
>A staggering amount of booze.
>And the company of a number of prostitutes.
>And you did the same the next night.
>And the night after that.
>And every night after you had a fight.
>And some nights that you didn't.
>Hedonism became your drive.
>You celebrated all your brutal victories with food, booze, and sex.
>Especially the sex.
>You don't remember a time before or since that you have indulged in such debauchery on such a scale.
>Part of you thinks that you may have been trying to sample the entirety of what the universe had to offer in terms of freaky alien pussy.
>The rest of you knows that you were only trying to distract yourself from what you were becoming.
>Kal, proving himself to infinitely be am better being that you were, remained your friend.
>You invited him up from the pens often, but he never indulged the way you did.
>That sad, disappointed look lingered in his back of his eyes.
>But he managed to keep it mostly at bay, understanding that you did what you did out of weakness.
>Especially where the food was concerned.
>He still shared details of the escape plan with you.
>He had brought people from the pens in on it.
>He wanted you to do the same with the prize fighters.
>It was a task that was easier to accomplish than you thought.
>With their every whim catered to, you wondered if they would even want to leave.
>Regular fights to the death and a general lack of freedom seemed to motivate them to join in.
>It was through this that you met a Thanagarian named Turl.
>Turl was a winged champion of the pits.
>And in his life before WarWorld, he was a Space Pirate.
>He said he operated in the crew of someone named Kanjar-Ro.
>He also said that he was genuinely impressed by you, he seen you on WarWorld's regular broadcasts and, in his words, I'd like to add, "never seen a creature as unassuming as you chop through so many dude's necks!"
>Turl, despite his rough exterior and more than questionable past, became your second true friend of WarWorld.
>At first you suspected that Turl had less than pure motivations for bonding with you, but you quickly learned that Turl wasn't exactly in to pony-shaped species.
>Or females at all, for that matter.
>But hey, who were you, a pony on an alien world populated by representatives from half of the universe, to judge.
>You could tell that Kal didn't like Turl, and though the feeling was mutual, both kept their feelings to themselves in the face of the need to escape.
>This didn't stop Turl from asking you such gems like:
>"Why do you hang with blue boyscout anyway?  He seems like a walking buzzkill."
He's my friend, he kept me alive in here and when he gets us out of here he's taking me home!
>"Oh, right, to that bright n' happy planet of yours...what's it called again?  Equestria?  Tell my Ly, why do you even want to go back there?"
Duh?  Because it's my home?
>"Really...okay.  Let's me ask you this then, when you get back to Equestria, what're you going to do?"
...huh?
>"What're you gonna do, Ly?  How're you gonna make your living, spend your days?"
I-I told you, I'm a musician, I play the Lyre and...
>"And you're just gonna forget about WarWorld?  About the fighting?  And the Glory?  And Me?  And even the boyscout?  Cause let me tell you something missy, you may wanna forget WarWorld, but WarWorld ain't gonna let you forget!"
...I didn't think of that...no pony would even believe me if I told them what I've been through...
>"You're destined for greater things Ly...MUCH greater things."
>He hands you a small, glowing blue cube.
>"This here is a number you can use to contact my old boss.  Tell 'em Turl sent ya.  That is...if we ever get out of this dump."
>You look at small device and ponder.
>Can you really just go back to Equestria and live your life?
>After everything you've seen?
>After everything you've done?
>These thoughts haunt your mind for the next few weeks.
>Right up until WarWorld passes in range of a small, yellow star.

EQUESTRIA, PRESENT TIME, AS ANON

>Lyra just unlocked your last leg cuff as you wash off the paint in a bucket of water.
So how did Superman react to your decision?
>"Superman?"
It's what the people of the world that Kal-El lives on call him.
>"You don't say, well I'd believe it.  When we made our escape, he blasted himself out of an airlock.  What happened next was broadcast across the universe for everyone to see, and replayed for the next five weeks for anyone who missed it.  By then, I'd made my choice.  Turl died during the escape, but he made sure me and a few others were on board an evacuating shuttle."
>Lyra packs away her De-Atomizer in a lock-box and ushers you out of the basement entrance.
You still didn't answer my question.
>Lyra sighs, her next words have a bitter sadness to them.
>"How do you think he reacted?"
>She closes the doors and locks them with a resounding *click*
>Leaving you alone in the cold, Ponyville night.

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