+————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————+ |                                                                    | |    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/24174173/#24174532               | |    ([S for Spaghetti] got interpreted as a strikeover)             | |                                                                    | +————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————+   >The Rainboom, glittering engine glow and all, tears a slit in the multiversal void. >Her captain and his co-pilot are occupied with the grueling task of staring at the instruments panel, as the Rainboom more or less flies itself through the hyperspace. >Trixie, ever the intellectual, takes this time to broaden her horizons with some books.   "Whatcha reading there, Trix?" >"[S for Spaghetti]," replies Trixie, nudging her reading glasses. "It's a supernatural thriller featuring a misunderstood high school girl who obsesses over these deities called 'Pillar Men.' She spends most of the story trying to seduce her love interest and awaiting the warm, viscous coming of the deities." >She coughs, blushing a little. >"I read it for the plot."   "That stuff will rot your brains, Trix." >Anon shuffles through the manuals and unpaid parking tickets on the dashboard, wondering where his copy of [Ender's Gains] had gone. "Honestly, I'm a fan of classic science fiction myself—" >"Oh, I bought a bundle of sci-fi books too. At F-Mart!"   >Trixie pulls out her pristine copy of [I, Robot 9k]. >Anon stares at the rather offensive cover art. >It prominently features an adolescent, flat-chested girl with red goggles and a drill-shaped talisman. >Anon makes a face at Trixie. "Seriously?" >"Hey, don't judge a book by its cover. This is a Shakespearean piece of literature."     - - - - - -     >"Anonny? Wake up." >Anon wipes a trail of saliva from his face. "Wh- are we there yet?" >"You tell me, captain," says Twi, pulling him back up in his seat. "Upsy daisy, love." >Anon smiles, clearly hating being woken up, but not minding the offender one bit. >He twists his neck and lands a peck on Twi's awaiting lips. "I don't care, as long as I've got you by my side."   >Trixie gags. >"You know, I may be the Element of Empathy, but even I'm not impervious to this much cheese."       >The crew of Rainboom begin prepping for landing. >There's an inhuman amount of empty Dude Light cans littered everywhere. >The captain grows uneasy as he approaches the planet without as much as a hailing signals from the local authority.   "Er, Twi? Aren't there usually... You know. Border offices? Customs officials?" >"Oh, those *totally* don't exist on NV-89101," Minuette answers instead. "The whole 'planet of debauchery' thing? Well, it's actually real. No amount of policing it could stop all the smuggling. The bribes ALWAYS won out in the end. So they just disbanded the police." >Anon stares grimly at the approaching planet, worried that it may be Mos Eisley on steroids. >"It won't be Mos Eisley on steriods," says Twi. "The entire planet is dotted with establishments controlled by various entities. High Society of Twilights, MUPPET, Shimmer Coalition, PEANUTS... It's impossible to start a faction conflict without dragging down the entire planet."   "That actually sounds exactly like Mos Eisley on steroids." >"Well, fine. It's exactly like Mos Eisley on steroids." "...and it covers the entire surface of the planet, apparently," says Anon. >The grey, impersonal surface of NV-89101 glares at them through the window.   >The planet has no signs of natural flora anywhere. >It's made up of a single spherical, contiguous edifice sprinkled with lights. Some signs are large enough to be visible from the Rainboom.   >A particularly massive neon-etching of Shimmy Sanders decorates one of the larger buildings.   Shimmy Sanders, 2016 Eat the Rich   >Anon finds that slogan oddly agreeable. >Twi points at the building with Shimmy Sanders' face on it. >"That's the Shimmer Coalition embassy airspace. Let's go the other way around." "Why?" >"I am a Twilight, Anonymous. Remember The Donald's rhetoric?" "Oh, right." >The Rainboom banks to the left.   >In the distance, a series of searchlights are waving their throbbing beams around in the sky. >It's all incredibly homoerotic.     - - - - - -     >"There's the hotel," points Minuette. "That's where the exchange will take place." >It's an incredibly boring building complemented by a hideous medieval castle-like structure. "You better not be leading us into a fetish dungeon, Minuette. I hate whips." >She smiles. >"Aww, you caught me. We're actually on Orgy Planet and I'm about to help you discover your innermost fetishes!" >Out of nowhere, she pulls out a horse whip." >"Where did you—" Trixie stammers. >Anon says nothing. >He considers crashing the spaceship just to spite her. >The Rainboom lazily flys past a small cafe named 'Les Bains.'   "We're here... finally." >The Rainboom touches down in the parking lot, her crew unscathed. >A massive glowing billboard overhead attempts to irradiate everyone in the vicinity, patrons and pedestrians alike.   Trixcalibur Hotel And Casino Great and Powerful Carnal Pleasures   "Let me guess, this entire place is owned by PEANUTS?" >"Psh, duh," Minuette waves her hand dismissively. "Who else would name a casino after herself?"   >Most of the useful parking space is taken up by a gaudy castle made of fake masonry and dried play-doh. >To everyone, perhaps including the owners themselves, it appears incredibly useless. >There's a massive, gilded banner scrawled with the phrase "Welcome To The Great And Powerful Trixcalibur!" >A golden statue of a ponified version of Trixie stands proudly in the courtyard. >There are souvenir stalls selling "Element of Harmony action figures" and other knick-knacks featuring Trixie. >At one of the stalls, an obese Anonymous argues with the shopkeep about calling one of his figurines a 'toy.' >Trixie winces. >"I am not sure how I feel about this place."     - - - - - -     >The lobby of the hotel is mind-bogglingly massive. >For a casino, it is surprisingly lacking in the "slot machine farm" cliche. Someone clearly wanted to make this establishment a high-brow snob fest. >There are rows and rows of card tables, drink booths, and catering staff carting fancy cigarettes to anyone who wanted them. "This is just like my noir movies..."   >"Holy fucking shit," curses Twi. "This place is huge. HUGE!" >Trixie looks at Twi. >"Wait, have you been reading my copy of The Art Of—" >"No. Never. Yes. I did. And I hate you for getting me addicted to it." >"I never recommended it—" >"You BOUGHT it." >A glint of madness flashes in Twi's eyes. >"And now it calls to me every. Fucking. Night. I'm going PEANUTS." >The bags under her eyes twitch. "Ohhkay then."   >Minuette drops her coat right into Anon's arms. >It's weighed down by having batteries and magazines jammed into every pocket she could managed to fit those. "Urf!" >"Book a room for all of us will ya? I need to go contact my handler and confirm the exchange with the mole. I'll be back soon. See ya!" >Anon tries to protest, but she's already hopping towards the far end of the unending lobby. "Jesus, it's also lined with grenades."   >Trixie groans. Disgusted by the plebeian display of "magicians." >"Cantrips. Cantrips EVERYWHERE." >A 'magical juggling wizard' juggles four bowling pins at once. He receives a round of applause for the feat. >"The place's got the goods, but not the people—" >There are Shimmers, Twilights, Trixies, some Anons... >Even a group of Diamond Tiaras and Silver Spoons are present. Their complement of Anons are almost disgustingly submissive. >The Element of Empathy dry heaves, half-crouching.     >"Oh my, are you alright, m'lady?" >Trixie looks up. >A dashing figure with flashy blue hair, immaculately suited, extends his hand at Trixie. >His sapphire-studded cufflink glitters slightly less than his vivid blue eyes. >Trixie blushes furiously, and grabs his hand. She allows herself to be helped up. >The gentlemanly stranger bows courteously at Trixie. >Anon finds him almost offensively dapper.   >"My name's—" >"Sentry. F-Flash Sentry," stammers Trixie, finishing his sentence. "The famed author of [A Brief Treatise On Rainbow Power]." >The disgustingly sexy figure chuckles. >"My, it is an honor to be recognized as such," Flash continues, with a hint of British accent. >Anon wonders why anyone out here would speak in British accents if they're from space and there's no Britain. >Whatever the reason, it seems to be doing a number on Trixie.     >"I merely compiled the idle musings my colleagues I've had on the subject matter into a few volumes—" >"Six, and two addendum handbooks and a revisionary commentary. I've read and studied all of them. Repeatedly," interrupted Trixie, her speech sped up considerably. "I-um. My name is... Trixie. I'm not PEANUTS." >Flash smiles benignly. >"N-not implying that I'm peanuts, I'm talking about the—"   >Flash chuckles, still holding Trixie's hand. >"There's no need to justify yourself, m'lady. *Any* wizard worth their salt would recognize the Element of Empathy." >He bends over, gently kissing the back of Trixie's hand. >Trixie begins to gush quite a bit.   >"W-would it be okay if we... talked about your recent works? I f-followed your work on t-the viability of metallic conduits with innate elemental diffusion and I have a f-few theories of my own. IF if if you don't mind, that is." >Flash looks genuinely surprised.   >"A discussion, about rainbow power, with you?" >He extends his elbow at Trixie. >"I wouldn't miss this chance for anything! Shall we?" >Trixie takes his arm. >The duo begins walking towards the bar. >"It shall be a *magical* night for both of us, m'lady."   >Anon's jaw drops, almost unhinged. "What the fuck just happened?" >"Flash Sentry happened," replies Twilight. >Despite not harboring any romantic feelings towards Trixie, Anon feels like he just got cucked.     >She waves her fingers in front of Anon's eyes, snapping him out. >"The HST has a number of Brads that they keep around as an elite guard for the high council. A fiercely loyal bunch." >She looks around for a moment, then tugs at Anon's arm. >"Come on, let's get a room. I need to wind down a little." >They make their way towards the reception area.   >"Every decade, one of them is elected to become *the* Flash Sentry. It's usually the smartest, most charming Brad that gets the title. It's always the wizardliest one, too." "Wizardliest?" >Anon turns his head towards the bar. >Flash had already ordered two smart-looking martinis for himself and his newfound intellectual interest. >Two olives are levitated from his drink, and teleports into Trixie's. >Trixie claps, clearly impressed.   "Should we be worried?" >"Not really," replies Twi. "They're not a malicious bunch. They just happen to have an undying love for their Twilights. Usually." >She frowns. >"But the fact that we just *happened* to run into the High Council's pocket ace worries me. Flash Sentry isn't someone to mess with." >Anon pulls the corners of his mouth into a tight frown. >This did not sound good at all to him, either.   >The hotel clerk smiles at the two of them, almost impersonally flawless and practiced. >"Welcome to the Trixcalibur! How may I be of service?" "Room for four please."       - - - - - -     >Anon quickly learns that the room is deceivingly massive. >It's shaped like a horseshoe, with the entrance located on one end of the shoe. >Located in the far end of the horseshoe is the master bedroom, with an incredibly fluffy bed with more than enough room for two. >Anon and Twi are laying side by side, savoring the cloudy sensation.   "I can't believe they actually accepted my Slammin' Sticks token as starcoins," moans Anon, half pleased and half laughing. >"Anything *and* nothing is possible," says Twi, turning to face Anon. "Maybe there's a multiverse out there where those are worth something. Maybe they are starcoins minted by some distant civilization, exhumed only to be used as arcade tokens on Earth. You never know." >Anon finds that all too agreeable. >He begins wondering if he could retire early from his token earnings, and the decadent life he could lead with it.   >His train of thought is derailed when a lavender-haired heartthrob rolls over on top of him. >She touches her nose against his, daring him to do something about it. >"Oh, by the way—" >Anon feels Twi pushing her pubic mound against his pelvis. >She's biting hard on her lower lip, breathing harshly. >"Do you have *any* idea what it's like to be stuck in that tiny bunk, thinking about you all night?"     >Her lips lock fiercely with his. >She smells like not-quite-perfumey flowers, and a hint of her moist-sweet breath. It reminds Anon of their first night together. >It drives him absolutely wild with lust. >Her head turns left and right, exchanging tongues and nosy breaths with him. >She breaks the kiss, but not before sucking on his lower lip. She lets it go with a wet smack. >Her breaths are ragged. >She is still keeping nose-to-nose with Anon, her eyes darting around in an attempt to make sense of the magnificent closeup in front of her.   >Anon feels her beginning move a little. >She's slowly rubbing herself against his stiffened member. >She lets out a breathy moan, her eyes rolling back with moist pleasure. >"H-hah!" >She nibbles on his lip, daring and begging him to devour her again. >Anon complies, and runs his hands up to her hips in revenge. >He begins slowly stroking up and down on her slender side, under her increasingly inconvenient jacket. >She takes it off and tosses it aside, along with her hair tie. Her lavender hair fans out dramatically. >His hand briefly brushes her sideboobs, getting a breathy response out of her.   >She leans forward, rubbing her breasts against his chest. >Her hair falls on Anon's face. It tickles him a little. >She nibbles on his ear, then whispers.   >"I'm.. ready like you wouldn't believe."     >"Oh shit," Minuette covers her mouth. "I-Is this not the right time??" >Twi's mouth scrunches, her lavender face turning blood-red. >Anon can almost hear his boner deflate. >A drop of tear rolls down his cheek.   "God is dead."     - - - - - - -     >"Twi?" >"[NO!]" >Her voice echoes from inside the bathroom. >"Hunbun please, I am so sorry! I swear I'll knock next time! When it's convenient!" >No response. >Minuette buries her face in her hands. >"Uggghhh, stupid me! Anon, do something!" "Wh—" >"GO! boyfriend comfort mode!" >Anon coughs.   "Hey, Twi? Babe, open the door." >"[No thank you, I'll just sit here while my EMBARRASSMENT kills me slowly]" >Anon, sighs, glaring at Minuette. >She's... stripping. >She holds up a tiny black dress against her bare breasts, checking herself out in the mirror.   "Twi, you need to let me in. Minuette is changing and— okay, there goes her panties." >"[Well, make her stop.]"   "Twilight. Please. I don't want to be raped by a gun-crazed murder pixie" >"I heard that, silly spoon!" >No response.   "Twi?" >Nothing.   >"Nonny dear, could you help me with my bra?? They're a cup too small for me!"   >Anon begins knocking desperately. "TWILIIIIIIGHT" >"[FIND YOUR OWN FUCKING HIDEOUT ANONYMOUS]"   >Tears begin pouring down Anon's face. "I WANT TO COME INSIDE, TWILIGHT SPARKLE"     >After an intense apology session from Minuette, the three freshen up and head back down towards the lobby. >Minuette explains the mole bait situation. >"We still don't know the exact details about the mole. All we've managed to learn is that she indeed works for MUPPET." >She checks her blaster pistol, then lifts up her dress. The holster is strapped unreasonably high up on her thigh. >Anon tries his best not to look. Twi looks, and regrets it immediately.   >Minuette continues. >"He's trying to drag his feet. I'll send out the message that a "high ranking" Twilight is ready for the exchange tonight and tonight only. That'll get him to show up." >She hands an earphone each to Anon and Twi. They put them on. >Minuette begins talking with two fingers around her throat. Nothing comes out of her mouth, but a clear, shrill voice comes through inside Anon and Twi's ears. >"Keep in touch, try to mingle, don't look suspicious. We can't blow this. Copy?" "Roger copy, staying frosty 10-4!" >Twi smacks herself in the forehead.     >It's evening, and the lobby is chock full of socializing multiverse copies of everyone. >Everyone's taking full advantage of the "no combat" zone. Shimmers chatting up Twilights, Trixies rolling dice with Anons— >There are even some copies of the Human Six, and numerous others important enough to have a role in the multiverse.   >Minuette is somehow surrounded by multiple Anons, Brads, and half-dozen other men, each garnering for her attention. >There's even a Lyra in the mix.   >At Anon's insistence, the staff had set up a temporary beer pong table in the corner. >A hastily put together participants list is scrawled on the darts scoreboard. It contains dozens of names. >Despite the high-brow hoighty-toighty atmosphere, the area is crowded with cheering onlookers. >Anon is currently playing to lose.   >Twi tries her best to fit in, but this being a non-scientific establishment, there aren't that many Twilights to rub shoulders with. >The type of Twilights who'd show up in places like these are the political types, assholes, or dudebro Dusk Shines. >So, it's exclusively from the High Council. >One of the Twilights with a toupee is fervently discussing "illegal Shimmigrants" in a corner with other Twilights. >It's somehow devoid of Shimmers. >Except one. >She approaches from afar, waving at Twilight. >"Sunset Shimmer?" >She smiles. >"In the flesh! What ya up to?"     - - - - - -     >About an hour later, Twi and Sunset are still catching up at the bar. >"—I mean, can you believe it? All of known Equestrias gone, except one!" >Sunset takes a very deep swig from her drink. >"Sunset, I am so sorry. I had no idea—" >She interrupts Twi, buzzed enough to forget some social graces. >"Remember when I said ~*ohh I'll be back because we're friends blah blah*~? I wanted to go back. I mean, ONE Equestria. I've got nothing else to do. And what a fat liar I turned out to be." >She pours herself another glass of whiskey on the rocks. >"The HST wanted to charge me extra for the portal visa, and then they tried to deport me! DEPORT! Where the hell were they going to send me, to the fuckin' Earth? I've been *trying* to get back to Earth, ya morons." >She destroys the drink in one go. She winces, then tilts the bottle towards Twi. >"You want some of this shit?" >"Erm, no thanks." >"Suit yourself," Sunset shrugs.     >Twi tries to salvage the mood a bit. >"Sooo, what have you been up to? I bet the Human Six had a ton of fun being out in the multiverse." >Sunset shrugs. >"They're doing well for themselves. Rarity's got her fashion blog—" >Twi's mouth twitches. >"—Rainbow Dash is some "pod racer" or whatever. Fluttershy and Pinkie started a constant-time nursery. 'Your child will be the same age when you pick 'em up, or your money back!'" >Sunset keeps pounding those drinks. >"That slogan just fucking gets to me, y'know. How insane is this multiverse when your baby could hit puberty by the time you pick 'em up after work?"   >"What about the other one? The uh...." >"What do you mean," Sunset frowns, "the 'other' one?" >"Applejack." >"Applejack?" >"Oh, Applejack," recalls Sunset. "Background artist for this children's show or something. Something about ponies" >Twi nods quietly, not entirely sure what to say to that.   >Sunset finishes the last of the bottle, then stands up. >She's swerving a little. >"Well, it's time for me to hug the toilet and cry myself to sleep. It's been nice, Twilight." >She stumbles, then groans something about Interdimensional Society of illegal-somethings.       - - - - - -     >"[Twilight, Anon, this is Triple-Ex Four Twenty MLG Headshot, over]" "[You're what? Who is this?]" >"[It's Minuette, Anon!. It's my callsign.]"   >There's a pause.   "[Are you joking me?]" >"[Fiine. Twilight, Buzz-Kill, this is Minu—]" >Anon groans in agony. "[Please just say what you need, Minuette.]" >"[Uh Buzz-Kill, communications discipline is paramount to—]"   "[MINUETTE, I WILL RUN MAGETS OVER YOUR TAPES AND RAM THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT IN YOUR SLEEP.]"   >"[Okay, okay! Sheesh. Guys, the meeting is arranged. It's happening in 30 minutes. Get ready.]"   >Twi tries to console Anon. >"[Anon, hun, you shouldn't lose your temper like-]" "['HONEY,' TRY GETTING ANNOYED AND COCKBLOCKED BY A GUN CRAZED TERRABOO FOR A WEEKEND AND SEE IF YOU DON'T LOSE YOUR SHIT]"   >Anon breathes heavily.   >"[Baka alien.]"   "[REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—]"