Title: [WINI - 0] Want it Need it - Prelude Author: NetherPony Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/WYgzsF2H First Edit: Wednesday 14th of November 2012 05:52:40 PM CDT Last Edit: Wednesday 14th of November 2012 05:52:40 PM CDT Want It Need It [WINI - 0] Prelude ----------------------   >The music was flowing, the bass was turned up, and all the partygoers were having a great time. >That's why ponies come to Las Pegasus.  To relax, get away from it all. >So why was your mind dredging up these memories? >You needed to take a break from your turntables... Maybe get a drink and just chill for a bit. >Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. >You motioned for the other DJ to come take over for a bit as you headed over to the bar. >Sitting down, the memories came flooding back to you.  Why?  Why did they have to surface now? >All these ponies... They'd come here to relax, let the stress of their work fade away and party. >Let loose.  Yet here you were, having some kind of mental breakdown about something that happened so long ago. > >Your mother had told you to go to your room.  When you asked why, she only screamed at you to go to your room and stay quiet. >Not wanting to get a spanking, you ran up to your room and shut the door. >But you had to know why.  Why did she tell you to do that? >Pressing your ear up against the door to you room, you listened intently for a clue as to why she-- >The front door opened and then slammed shut. >Father?  He was home early.  He never came home early... Mother always told you he was sick or tired... That's why he would come home so late. >It wasn't until now that you'd realized he was an alcoholic.  He would drink like a fish out of water. >That night though... That night was different.  You recall pressing your head against the door to try and hear what was going on.   ----------------------   >Why were they fighting?  You heard something that sounded like a slap maybe?  And then your mother... crying? >Why would she cry?  She always told you that she loved your father very much... >You'd opened the door slowly and quietly, making sure to not make a sound. >You crept down the stairs and followed the noises into the kitchen. > >He was making funny noises though... There were tears in mother's eyes and she was sniffling. >When she noticed you, she choked out a sort of yell, "VINYL!  GO TO YOUR ROOM!" >You remember running up to your room and hiding under your bed. >Shortly thereafter though, you heard steps come up the stairs. >You remember being dragged by your tail from under your bed... >Then... He... He... He touched you... > >You shuddered and asked the bartend for a drink. >"Vinyl, are you alright?" "Y-Yeah, just need a drink is all.  Thanks." >He nodded and went back to his other patrons. > >After it was over... There was blood.  Blood all over the bed, like he'd broken something in you. >It hurt so much... You were so sore... And scared... >You'd hit him really hard over the head with your lamp... He'd said something. >"You'll never be anything but a freak.  No stallion will ever love you.  You're a broken freak!  Look at what you did on the bed!" >Whatever possessed you to hit him with the lamp... It just felt... right. >But after?  You panicked.  You grabbed whatever you could fit into your little saddlebags and ran. >Past your father on the ground, past your mother in the kitchen, right out the door; crying all the while.   ----------------------   >You'd tried forgetting... But you couldn't.  No matter how hard you tried, the memories would follow you wherever you went. >Every stallion you met seemed to be just as your father.  They only wanted one thing. >That's all they cared about. >In all your time since then, you'd never gotten close to a stallion.  Or another pony, really. >Save for the bartender.  But he was gay, so that didn't count. >You sighed and downed your drink quickly. >After setting your glass back down, the bartend was already talking with you. >"So, you gonna tell me what's bothering you or not?" "Who said something was bothering me?" >"You can hide behind your wee goggles all you want, but I know you Vinyl." >You sighed and shook your head. "Marty, you're a good pal, but I'm fine, really.  I just needed a break and something to drink is all, alright?" >"Alright... You just let me know if you need to talk." >That accent was part of what you liked about him.  Made him a good pony to listen too; helped when he was full of good advice, too. >"Well off you go then." "Yeah yeah, you do your job I'll do mine." >"Aye.  Get a move on, lass." >You waded through the crowd of ponies on the dance floor, back to your turntables. >Sure you got some whoops and hollers, but you reminded yourself that these ponies didn't want you for who you were. >They only wanted to use you and be done with you.  They wanted their own little bit of entertainment from you and that's all. > >They'd get their entertainment, but it'd be your music.  Not like they wouldn't run after seeing your eyes anyways.   ----------------------   >Red eyes are demon eyes.  You've got a little demon in you.  You're a freak of nature. >These little tidbits of phrases were what convinced you to get goggles. >After that, they'd died down to near nothing.  It was nice. >Just a little something you could do to fit in. >You'd wear them as often as you could; they rarely left your head. >Matter of fact, the only times you really took them off was when you were by yourself or with Marty. >He'd always say you had pretty eyes; like jewels or something stupid. > >Of course, you'd had to deal with some... persistent ponies as well. >Some would wait for you after the show was over.  Those usually met Marty. >After your first black eye from defending yourself, Marty had vowed to walk you home every day. >He was the big brother you never had growing up. >It did your wellbeing good to have a gay stallion walk you home. >He was built well, kept in shape.  That, and you nearly died laughing when he threatened a stallion with brutal anal devastation. >"Oi!  You want to put your dick in her, eh?  I tell you what.  After I'm through puttin mine in you, we'll talk.  How's that sound?" >The look on that creeps face? Priceless. >Marty... >He was the best friend you could ask for.  He always had something to say, something to cheer you up. > >One day you'll find a way to properly thank him.  For now, you need to get back to your turntables. >They're missing you and that little stand-in DJ is probably ready to bolt. >Yup, time to get back to what you do best.   ----------------------   >The music had been going for a while now, and the party was really going. >Dancing ponies everywhere, everyone having a good time. >You'd even spotted a group of minotaurs come in.  Tonight was shaping up to be an alright night. >Being on the DJ platform, you could see most of the club fairly well. >You looked around at your work.  Yeah, they were enjoying themselves. >When you noticed a gap form in the crowd, you looked over to see what the fuss was about. >Huh.  What's that... thing?  You've never seen something quite like that before. >Was it a bald minotaur maybe?  He was with a little pink pony that was bouncing around, smiling. >Wonder what it is?  Or what it's doing here? >Bah, probably some higher-up here to relax or something. > >MMmmmmm... No, that didn't seem right. >It looked... Different.  Maybe it's her pet and she's... >No, that's not it either. >You notice a small group of ponies eyeing the... thing. >That look was one you were all too familiar with. >You signaled to Marty that there was trouble, and motioned towards the group of ponies. >They'd advanced on the newcomer, and you could barely make out "freak" and "bald monkey" >Marty sent the thing over to the bar and pulled the ring leader of the group of ponies aside. >A brief chat with him, and the group left in a hurry. >Maybe when you get a break you'll go see what exactly this thing is.   ###Last Edit: 11/20/12 0045