- "Another, Tap."
- >The bartender nods, and begins cracking open a new bottle of brandy.
- >It's been a long night of drinking, and not much else.
- >A few days after Trixie's performance, and she's already the talk of the bar.
- >She embraces it fully, as you knew she would.
- >The dress is now worn casually instead of the hat and cape.
- >Even right now, she's sitting at a table, surrounded by interested stallions and jealous mares.
- >To top it all off, she has yet to thank you for the performance piece.
- >What did you expect?
- >Getting used is something you, well, get used to.
- >A lightly drunk pushover is a role you've taken to well.
- >A bleeding heart, if the heart bled alcohol.
- >Another brandy is placed in front of you.
- >"Hey chief, what's up with the flighty broad?"
- >You groan, picking up the drink.
- "Who, her? She don't talk to me anymore."
- >Tap shakes his head.
- >"Nah, I mean THAT flighty broad."
- >He points a hoof to the back of the establishment.
- >Turning your head, you see he's pointing to a certain familiar griffon.
- "Ah, flighty broad..."
- >She's not alone, however.
- >Surrounded by a few stallions.
- >So she's popular as well, eh?
- >A few seconds of observation prove the exact opposite.
- >A hoof lands hard on her shoulder, knocking her back.
- >That's not a friendly gesture.
- >What's even less friendly is the group coercing her out the back door.
- >Welp.
- >It's not every day you're forced to get up from your stool.
- >The bartender seems to empathize.
- >"Want me to hold your drink for ya?"
- >You grab the glass.
- >In one motion, you swig down the cup of brandy.
- >Slamming the cup on the counter, you turn to Tap.
- "Nah."
- >You feel pretty badass.
- >Though it's a bit unwarranted.
- >You also probably look like a fool, if anyone was watching.
- >Luckily everyone had their eyes on Trixie.
- >With a stern look, you exit through the back door.
- >You see just what you expected.
- >"What do you think you're doing here in P0NYville?"
- >"We don't appreciate you peckerheads in our city."
- >"Just fly away and there won't be any trouble."
- >Three stallions surround the griffon.
- >Oh boy do you hate conflict.
- >The griffon is crouched down, her talons bare.
- >"You wanna fight? COME ON!"
- >You step closer to the group.
- "Ah ah ah, no fighting tonight."
- >One of the stallions turns back to respond.
- >"Look pal, this ain't got nothing to do with you."
- >You regain composure, and stand up tall.
- "And what, may I ask, is your issue with her?"
- >He sneers, turning back to her.
- >"She's a griffon, pal. She's not welcome around here."
- "Is that so?"
- >You instantly regret what you are about to do.
- >A light touch on his shoulder is all it takes for him to turn his head.
- "Then consider me the welcoming committee."
- >You toss a haymaker at his jaw.
- >Holy fucking fuck that hurt.
- >You had to have broken a knuckle.
- >What the fuck is his skull made of, iron?
- >Luckily, he seems to have felt the same impact, and hits the ground.
- >The two stallions just stare at you.
- >"What the buck, you just knocked out Mahonie!"
- "Get back inside."
- >This time they listen to you.
- >Rushing inside, you're left with a stallion out cold in the alley, and Gilda.
- >"Wow, nice punch."
- >She crouches down to the guy on the ground, admiring your handiwork.
- "Come on, let's have a drink."
- >Getting up, she walks with you inside.
- >Not before kicking the guy in the stomach, of course.
- >Once inside, you take your seat back, this time accompanied by your feathered female friend.
- "A whiskey for the lady."
- >The bartender gives you a look.
- >"Five people walked out there, 4 came back in."
- >You sigh, nodding towards the door.
- "He's unconscious."
- >With a laugh, that brings a smile back to his face.
- >"Figured as much. It's on me."
- >Pouring her a glass of whiskey, you hold up your freshly pre-filled glass of brandy.
- "To bar fights."
- >She smirks.
- >"That was a bar fight?"
- >She clinks your glass with her own.
- >"If that's what you call a fight, you'd never survive at my local pub."
- >Time passes, and the two of you chat lightly.
- >The stallion you laid out made it back inside, sitting down with his buddies.
- "So, any inkling as to why those guys were on your case?"
- >"Yeah, a few reasons."
- >She sips her whiskey.
- >"Talons, feathers, and beak."
- >It's like that, is it?
- >You've only seen her around here once, so it makes sense you wouldn't know how p0nies think of her.
- >And, apparently, this is how it is.
- "Been like this for a while?"
- >She glares at you.
- >"Ya think? Griffons and P0nies never got along well."
- >With that, her head sinks.
- >"And...not to mention I burned a few bridges here..."
- >Rainbow Dash.
- >She's told ya this tale before.
- "Well, not much you can do, eh?"
- >"What do you mean by that? I can leave."
- >Her whiskey's nearly gone.
- >"I can fly away, never look back. I got nothing holding me here anyway."
- "Ain't that the truth."
- >You swirl your drink in your hand.
- "I wonder the same thing."
- >She turns towards you.
- >"How so?"
- "Look at me. I've been here for longer than I'd like to remember, and I've spent that time drinking away my troubles."
- >The level of blood alcohol is getting to you.
- >"What do you mean 'been here'?"
- >That's right, how could she know.
- >Ah well...
- >It's a story for another time...
- >...
- >...and that time is now.
- >You swig the rest of your brandy.
- "I came here a while ago. A long while. I have no idea how I got here, or why, but after the first few years, the shock faded."
- >Gilda remains silent.
- "So I did what I do? I hid. Found a place where I could drink my troubles away, and here I am."
- >You solemnly look down.
- "Nothing's keeping me here. At the same time, I got nowhere to go."
- >After a few seconds, you receive a talon to the back of the head.
- "OW."
- >You rub the spot while looking at Gilda.
- >She just smirks at you.
- >"Cheer the hell up. You got good drink, good music, and good company."
- >...
- "...where's the good company?"
- >That's met with another swift hit to the skull.
- >An hour or so later, Trixie gets up from her table.
- >A stallion of her choosing follows her up and out the door.
- >You sigh as this happens.
- "Another random colt for Trixie."
- >"Hm? Oh, her."
- >She watches her as she leaves.
- >"She usually sits over here with you, eh? What happened?"
- >You wince slightly.
- "Ever since she played a gig here, she's been riding the popularity, hitting up stallions every night."
- >"Ah."
- >Gilda gives you a slight glance.
- >"She don't know what she's missing, right?"
- >She's...got a point.
- >You're some of the best damn company you know.
- >If you're gonna spend it with anyone, may as well be someone who actually wants it.
- >Turning to Gilda, you smirk.
- "Damn right."
- >The two of you clink glasses one more time.
- >Speaking of time, Gilda notices the clock on the wall.
- >"Gettin' late."
- "Yup."
- >"Do you ever leave?"
- "Not often."
- >She gets up, her stretched wing brushing lightly against your back.
- >"Then I know just where to find you."
- >With that, she turns to leave.
- >You sigh, looking into the empty glass.
- >An outcast sharing drinks with an outcast.
- >It was...
- >...nice.
- >As you hand Tap your empty glass, getting up for the night, you can't help but think.
- >You spent the evening sharing company with a girl, who looks forward to seeing you again.
- >Trixie DID miss out.
- >Meanwhile...
- >"Trixie said LEAVE."
- >A stallion walks away from the mare, dejected.
- >She now walks alone towards her wagon.
- >Again.
- >Every night it was the same.
- >Leave with somep0ny, stay with nop0ny.
- >The last stallion to ever be in here was...
- >...well...not a stallion.
- >She throws her head down into a pillow.
- >That look he gave her before...
- >Did it mean anything?
- >Now he doesn't look at all.
- >Trixie blew it again...
Don't like ads? PRO users don't see any ads ;-)
Bar Scene: Outcasts
Text below is selected. Please press Ctrl+C to copy to your clipboard. (⌘+C on Mac)
create a new version of this paste
RAW Paste Data