+————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————+ |                                                                    | |    Looking for the archived update with all the spelling errors,   | |    lore discussions, shitposts, and images of cute cartoon         | |    horses? Follow this link:                                       | |                                                                    | |    https://archive.moe/mlp/thread/24132744/#24132917               | |                                                                    | +————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————+   >"—then it follows that by referencing offsets from the base pointer, you can treat the stack as an argument list—" >The crisp, high alto echoes through the mostly empty lecture hall. >Most of the students are dozing off, long since given up on understanding the lectures. >The teacher's aid continues with her singsong voice undeterred, her horn-rimmed glasses glaring in the sunlight. >Her lavender hair is tied up in some undetermined middle ground between nonchalance and tidiness. >Anon begins to scribble stick figures and hearts in his notebook.   >"Anonymous, you do realize that Sparkle will quiz you on this material later?" >He turns his head and faces Trixie, who is in the process of peeking at Anon's notebook over his shoulder. >"Whatcha got there, loverboy?" "T-Trixie! Come on," Anon stammers, his face beet red. >"[Hey! Some people are trying to learn here! So shut it, nerd brigade!]" >"[Heh nice one bro, 'nerd brigade'—]" >"[yeah, very—]" >The brown haired jock is interrupted as the lecturer snaps the chalk with a loud snap. >She turns around slowly, remaining pieces of chalk flaking out of her clenched fist. >"What the HELL did you just call them??" >Twilight looks really, really angry. >Hoops, not being a complete idiot, immediately falls silent. >The other two of the frat trio on the other hand, can't keep their snicker in check. >"You three. What does the syllabus say about disruptive behavior?" >"[uh, o-over nine thousand?]" >They erupt into laughter. One of them says something about "dank maymays." >The fat, greyish one looks on to others for a response, but gets nothing. >The rest of the lecture hall simply stares at the frat trio in disgust. >Twilight points her finger to the door, scalding fury in her eyes. >The frat trio takes their leave, one of them flashing some Greek letters. >Trixie sticks her tongue out at their direction. >Anon shakes his head. "Christ, you'd think an "institute of technology" would be free of those bozos." >There will be some silly strings on one of their cars today.     - - - - - -     >"I was *trying* to protect you guys," protested Twi. >They are in Twilight's lab, relaxing for the afternoon. >The weekend is finally here, and so is the discussion over Twilight's newfound obsession — being overprotective of her friends. "I know, and we appreciate that. But you can't just risk your job as a TA willy-nilly like that just because some jocks talked trash in class! That's basically grounds for termination." >Trixie conjures up a bone-shaped strip of rainbow, and tosses it to the green-purple dog in front of her. >Spike catches it mid-air and begins to chew on it. >"Anonymous is right, Sparkle," she says, standing up. "We can handle some bullying, if you could even call it that. It's really no big deal." >Twilight looks visibly angry. >"Ugh, I'm just *trying* to keep idiots like those from hurting you guys!" >Trixie and Anon shrug at each other. >Twilight had become increasingly hostile towards anyone who "dared to cross my friends," and it was beginning the worry both of them. "Twi. You don't have to be so protective of us. We're adults, for god's sake." >Anon scratches Spike's ear, then his, wondering just what kind of joy that dog derives from getting it scratched like that. "Besides, it gives me a good excuse to cover their car in silly string." >Trixie's cheeks puff up as she suppresses a laugh with her hand. >"That was YOU, Anonymous? Stupendous effort, you sly dog." >Twi is stewing. Noone seems to be taking her seriously as of late. >Anon approaches her from behind, pulling her close. "You've been so tense as of late. What's eatin' ya up?"   ° ° °   >Twi sighs, holding onto Anon's arms around her shoulders.   >"Ever since you guys found out about my...past, I felt immensely guilty. Especially towrads you. To think that I casually expended the lives of hundreds like you—" >Trixie walks up, and hugs Twi from the front. Twilight suddenly finds herself trapped in a sandwich of feels. >"But he was willing to forgive you, was he not? Friends don't cry over sunken bridges. We learn, and build new ones." >Twi's eyes begins to glitter with tears. >"Oh, I love you guys so much! I'd do anything to protect you." >The trio hugs it out in a fit of friendship, friends and lovers alike.   >Spike, having none of this sappy narrative, barks at the sudden intruder. >Minuette puts on a face like she's just walked into her parents having sex. >"Oh shit, is this not the right time?"     - - - - - -     >"OH GOD Minuette yes um, hello," Twi sputters, straightening out her lab coat. >Anon and Trixie both jump up like frightened cats. >Spike, not being a cat himself, continues to yap at Minuette. >"Sorry about that, Twilight! I knocked, but your portal was closed. So I teleported myself in. Heeeyy Spike~" >Minuette rubs Spike's belly. He's panting at the sudden pampering being poured on him. >Twi clears her throat. >"Anon, Trix, you uh, remember Minuette? I believe I've introduced you guys before." >Anon recalls the overly chipper blue-white haired girl he met at last year's New Years party.   >The sub-sub-sub-contractor-for-hire. With a complementary smile. >When Anon met Minuette, she struck Anon as a type who'd be a gun-crazy psychopath, minus the parts that made a psychopath actually dangerous. >For someone in her late 20s, she was impulsive as hell, and could hold her alcohol. Better than Buff Biceps, anyway. >A dead-eye, from how Twi described her career. And vicious to boot. >She apparently went through the same phase Twi. Met the guy of her dreams who accepted her for who she was. Even got engaged. >When she and her fiance parted ways, she kept the chipper attitude but gave away the social grace. >She buried herself in her work shortly afterward. >"A really heartbreaking story," Twi had summarized.   "Yeah. Contracted bounty hunter. High Society of Twilights, Mercs Division. Right?" >"Something like that~" she flashes her eerily pearly whites. Her eyes opening even wider, somehow. >Trixie shudders and cringes at that. >Anon is immediately reminded of that one scene in Aliens. >"So," interjects Twi, picking up Spike in her arms. "What brings you here?" >Minuette stare at her Twi, seemingly trying to remember why she was here. A lightbulb flips on in her mind. >"Guns. Lots of guns. And a favor, if you would~"     - - - - - -     >An oddly pleasant conversation ensues over tea and rifles. >"—so I said to Trump — 'you gotta stop letting shimmies rustle your jimmies, girl!' I just couldn't help myself!" >Minuette lets out a shrill laugh as Twi laughs through her teeth courteously, looking for some help from the other two. >Trixie and Anon are too busy taking turns playing "fetch the biscuit" with Spike. >A brief pause later, Minuette puts down her teacup on the saucer.   >"That leads me straight to the favor I wanted to ask you. I've gotten myself into a bit of a pickle with the contracts." >Everyone's ears perk up. Spike stops jumping and stares. >"You know how HST Mercs administration deals with incomplete assignments. Death by firing squad, if you're lucky." >Anon swallows his tea a little too hard. >"Well, there's a contract that needs to be finished by next Tuesday. Not only am I short on firepower, I need some brains as well. This one needs a deft touch of a beautiful spymistress, with the brains to match." >Minuette eyes Twilight, making Anon sweat with a mix of arousal and jealous discomfort. >This was beginning to sound a little too much like one of his lesbian dating sims. >She continues. >"Of course, if you were concerned with pay, I'm willing to...write this one off. To you. I'd be just glad to have my skin intact." >Twi thinks it through, and extends a hand at Minuette. >"Bounty or not, I'm not about to let a friend get killed by the nutjobs at the High Council. Count me in, Minuette."   ° ° °   >Minuette feigns a surprise, fluttering her eyes. >"Oh my, without even hearing the details of the assignment? It could be dangerous!" >Twi smiles. >"You've always been a good friend, Minuette. Even when I—we used to be less than...ethical about our approaches to problems. If it means saving you from certain death, I'll help you." >Minuette winks. >"You *really* have changed, Twilight. For the better, I might add~" >She grabs Twilight's hand. >Instead of shaking it, she plants a wet kiss on Twilight's slender knuckle. Completely uncalled for. >Twi's eyes widen and slowly shift towards Anon. Anon's grip tightens on his knees. >Trixie leans in and whispers. >"You might wanna retract your telescope there, Anonymous." >Anon's face turns into crimson red. "Thanks. Thanks a lot, Trixie." >Trixie gives Anon a shit-eating grin.     - - - - - -     "So, err, what's the plan?" >Anon fumbles with a blaster mag before catching it again. His hand is slick with sweat. Even his cyberarm seems to be sweating. >Minuette smiles. >"HST's intel indicates that there's a MUPPET agent who managed to infiltrate deep into the HST's upper echelons. My contract was to either bring him alive or kill him." >Twilight stops halfway into tying her hair in a bun. >"A mole? In our High Council?" >"It's more likely than you think," replies Minuette. "Some of your upper echelon Twilights are deviants of the highest order." >Minuette huffs visibly. >"If even one of their butt-pampering manservants were spies, HST would have a serious security breach on their hands. It's truly perverse, really." >"No surprises here," mumbles Twilight.   "So how are we supposed to catch this mole?" >"Simple," Minuette grunts as she sheathes a katana. "We've arranged for a "disgruntled high-level HST employee" to do an intelligence swap with the mole. Faked credentials, initial leaks as down payment, everything. The mole thinks our imaginary informant is a goldmine of information." >Trixie nods, clearly impressed. >"Irresistible bait. Very devious. I'm assuming the exchange portion is where Sparkle's talent comes in?" >"Yes, little one," replies Minuette, petting Trixie's hair with a gloved hand. "She's high enough in the society to know how to act like an upper echelon puke. Not to mention, her manners are innately... exquisite." >Minuette licks her lips. >Anon drops his rifle with a loud clatter. "S-sorry. My bad."   >"I am *not* little. At all," sulks Trixie.     - - - - - -     >Fully equipped and armed, the four began walking out of the armory. >Minuette has some difficulty fitting her duffel bag full of guns, blades, and gunblades through the doorway. >Instead of leading the party to the portal, Twilight walks towards an empty wall on the opposite end of the lab. "Uh, Twi? Portal's that way." >Minuette giggles. >"We can't take the portal, silly! It's too far away from all the main portal networks, and the planetary law enforcement jams teleportations signals to and from the place." >Anon gets a slight cold feet. "Well, where the heck ARE we going, then? It's in this universe, right?" >"This galaxy, actually," answers Twi. "It's NV-89101. Technically a neutral system. It hosts embassies and gambling establishments from all sorts of multiversal societies and coalitions." >"So, Vegas in space huh," Trixie muses. >Twilight nods.   "So, what now? It's not like we can dial NASA for a ride or something." >Without a word, Twi flips a fairly large switch on the wall. It's labeled [GARAGE]. >An entire side of the lab begins to crack up in very precise, lengthwise rectangles. It begins to fold up like a massive garage shutter door. >Hidden behind the massive garage shutter door, is a garage. >There are spaceships and terrestrial vehicles of all sizes and shapes. "W-w-w-wwh—" stutters Anon. >"What? It's just the garage." >Anon's jaw goes slack. "You NEVER told me you owned spaceships!" >"I totally told you I owned spaceships," answers Twi. "Oh, uh... it might have been one of the older Anons. Sorry." >Twi scratches her head apologetically. >Trixie raises an eyebrow. >"Seriously, Anonymous? Not even a curiosity to peek? The switch is literally labeled [GARAGE] you know." "I didn't want to intrude—" >"Didn't seem to stop you from peeking at her shower. She totally knows you did it, by the way." >Twi stifles a giggle. "H-hey!"     - - - - - -     >"Oh, I forgot," Twi slaps her forehead. "We need to get some ammo on the way." >Anon looks at Twi, then looks at the massive can of ammo shouldered by Minuette. It's about as large as her torso. "Seriously?" >Twi waggles her finger at Anon. >"Nuh-uh. None of that, mister. Last time you scolded me for being overprepped, we ended up stranded and without supplies for a week." >Trixie shudders. >"My shoulder still aches from chopping up firewood by hand. Rainbow power can't cut wooden beams." >"SEE? You're hurting poor Trixie," continues Twi with mock anger. >Trixie gives Anon a mock pout, breaking his heart into pieces. >Twi boops your nose. >"Besides, weren't you a Boy Scout or something? you know, [Be Prepared]? That one innuendo you use every time we're having—" "Fine, fine," forfeits Anon. It was impossible to win against these girls. >Not that he wanted to. >Against ridiculously powerful cosmic entities and multiversal espionage mumbo-jumbo, it was safer to let them make the right decisions. >And they were frighteningly good at it.   >Besides, he needed new gloves for his cyberarm. The flannel ones went out of fashion.   ° ° °   >"Oh oh oh can we take the green one with the pointy fins??" >Twi smiles, and shakesk her head. >"Sorry Minuette, the thrusters are shot." >"Awww."   >Twi guides the party to an ugly-white spherical-looking spaceship. >A small section in front is dipped in like an inverted nipple. "Heh, nipple." >"Hmm?" "Nothing." >The rear section had a large chunk of it carved out by what looks like a series of rotating engines. >The top side of the spaceship had a small row of windows.   >Anon tilts his head. >This looks oddly like— "Hey, it looks oddly like—" >"Like what," says Twilight. "A spaceship?" >Anon grimaces, annoyed that he can't quite put his finger on it. "No, it looks... incredibly familiar." >"It's just a spaceship, you silly! Of course it looks like any other spaceship, they're mass produced! Like everything else." >Minuette slaps Anon in the back playfully.   "Yeah, except I've never seen one in real life, so—" >"Aww, who cares! It'll be fun regardless!"   >The ship comes to life and roars as Twi opens up the hatch. >A lone ramp extends out onto the hangar floor. >Despite the amount of gear she carried, Minuette skips cheerfully onto the ramp. >Twi follows suit. >Trixie climbs halfway up the ramp, and looks back at a flustered and confused Anon. >"Get in, loser," she shouts. "We're going shopping." "Trixie! Another meme out of your mouth and I'll—"