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[Well, this has been a hell of a day...couple of days? Emile's not entirely sure, since his mission clock isn't synching with anything. He's completely out of his element here, especially after the little white fuzzy bastards put him in some kind of stasis a couple times. The idea of those things controlling everything here--which they clearly do--isn't comforting in the least to him. He's also not entirely sure what to make of this little snake...thing that he supposedly "made" from those weird pieces.

At least there was something to fight here, and a few battles with Nightmares had done a lot to calm him down. So now he was poking around with the communicator, and wonder of wonders there do in fact seem to be other people here. Might as well see what kind of afterlife he's landed in.

The video clicks on to show armor that might be familiar to anyone who's been paying attention to the Freelancers, but there's a very distinctive skull pattern carved into the domes gold surface of his smooth EVA helmet.]

This is Noble-Four requesting contact from any UNSC-friendly forces in the area. This don't make any goddamn sense.

--And are those little white bastards shitting me or is it really called "munny"?

Comments

[sailorgenerous]

[They're not even speaking the same language anymore.] I...suppose...you could? I don't mind you being on the roof of the boutique, as long as you don't make too much noise...though I wouldn't be surprised if Princess Luna came by to visit you.

[Hi! Wow your person is big! He's even bigger than the other armored guys! That's really cool!]

[...admittedly, Spike is shallow.]

There is! York and Delta have been kind enough to mark where the packs of Nightmares tend to appear on it. [After a few moments of fiddling, she manages to send him the map.] Now, where are you?

[spaceracist]

A boutique? It got a good view? [#priorities]

[Spikes chatters a little about how its human is very fast and strong, but that it hasn't met a lot of others yet to compare to.]

Got it. [Bleep bloop, where is he...] North of the Post Office. Where you at?

[sailorgenerous]

Of the sky? Most rooftops in the city do, yes.

[Wow, that is really cool! Spike's person does magic and fashion stuff. See? He puffs up a bit so Spikes can see the green bow tie proudly affixed just above his Spirit symbol.]

Fourth District. I'll be there presently. I wouldn't go into the Post Office quite yet - from what I hear, it's a bit of a maze.

[spaceracist]

Of the surrounding area. In case those Nightmare things get close.

[Spikes puffs up a little. That's pretty cool! Maybe he can get one, too.]

Don't got any letters to send, anyway.

[He'll chill out where he's at for the moment, then.]

-> Action

[sailorgenerous]

Nightmares don't usually come up to rooftops. You should be just fine.

[Spike squeaks happily, rocking back and forth from paw to paw. He's sure Spikes can get one! His person *loves* making stuff - she'll probably want to make one for Spikes too if she knows he wants one!]

[It's not too long - maybe ten minutes - before Rarity shows up at the door to the post office. The armored person is difficult to miss, though she hadn't realized he was quite so tall from the video. Spike bounces along behind her with a couple of shield cookies hanging out of his mouth. He heads right up to Spikes and offers him one. They hit Nightmares on the way over and he got cookies from them and saved one for you! Want it?]

I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.

[spaceracist]

Ain't me I'm worried about.

[Oh gosh Spikes is just totally thrilled to get a cookie. He takes it in his mouth happily and then bumps his head against Emile's knee.] The hell you got there? [He'll take the cookie carefully and then hold it out again. Spikes chomps on it happily.

Pets are weird.]

Never minded waiting.

[sailorgenerous]

It's a cookie. Nightmares drop them when they're defeated, and Spirits love them. [She is rather proud of Spike for sharing, and she pats him on the head while he eats his cookie and purrs.]

That is good to hear. Oh- where are my manners? My name is Rarity. It's very nice to meet you, Noble-Four.

[spaceracist]

Huh. Haven's seen 'em yet. I'll keep an eye out. [Of course, he hasn't fought a whole lot of Nightmares yet, but he will. Oh, he will.]

Rarity. [Oh right, he has to be polite.] Nice to meet you.

[...Man, she's tiny.]

[sailorgenerous]

You will eventually. They also drop ice cream and candy. [Yes, this is bizarre. No, not as bizarre as Pinkie Pie. Rarity's sliding scale of weird is dictated by the pink party pony; creatures that drop cookies and candy are barely a blip on the radar.]

Shall we? [She trots off without waiting for an answer - somehow, she hardly doubts he'll have trouble keeping stride.]

[spaceracist]

Ice cream. And candy. [Maybe if he just thinks of this all as some bizarre training exercise, it will start to make some more sense. Maybe.]

All right.

[And he does follow without a problem. His stride is quite long.]

[sailorgenerous]

You'll get used to it. Everypony does eventually.

[It's not long before they hit the Second District. She gestures to a large building on the left.]

The hotel is there, if you decide you'd like a room there.

[Of course, that's about when a pack of Nightmares appears right in front of them. The Second District is rife with them, and there's a few of all five types here. Wonderful. She magics her saddlebags off, hanging them on a lamppost and out of the way, and delivers a decisive kick to a Meow Wow that was getting too close for comfort as Spike snarls and rolls into the fray.] They do have terrible timing.

[spaceracist]

[Of course it is. Spikes screeches and jumps in himself, whacking a few of them himself and testing out his fire-breathing. Emile, after a quick glance at Rarity to see that she knows what she's doing, draws his kukri knife and viciously rushes the largest of the bunch, attempting to draw its attention away from the others.]

[sailorgenerous]

[Oh good, he's taking the bears. She's never had much luck with those - she usually ends up running from them. She kicks another Nightmare, shattering it into munny and dream pieces, and calls to her Pricklemane.]

Spike! You know what to do.

[He squeaks an affirmative, sinks the end of his tail into the ground, puffs out his spikes, and swings himself in a circle, effectively becoming a living mace. Once he's started, Rarity grabs Nightmares with her magic, dropping them in range of Spike's attack. By the time Spike stops swinging himself around, he's sitting in a pile of munny and dream pieces and treats, and a good number of the Nightmares are gone.]

[spaceracist]

[Emile, for his part, seems to be very proficient at this for someone who's just arrived here, and he barks a couple of directions to Spikes for flanking maneuvers. The little guy seems very eager, if not quite at the same combat level as the Spartan.

He finishes off the Kooma Panda with a combination stab and punch that probably would have coated the place in blood if they bled, but ends up just giving a shower of munny, then in the same movement turns and stabs Spikes' last opponent in the back.

Emile gives a reflexive flick of his knife as if to shake off blood and then sheathes it.]

Least we won't get too bored here.

[...yeah that seems to have cheered him up quite a lot.]

[sailorgenerous]

[Given what she knew about him, Rarity wasn't in the least surprised that he knew how to handle himself in combat. She retrieves her saddlebags and starts magicking goods into it, singling out two ice creams and offering one each to Spike and Spikes.]

Thank you for helping with those bears. I have a terrible time trying to get around them.

[She can't exactly say that this is her idea of entertainment, but if it makes him happy, keeps the bears out of her way, and it's not directed at the Moogles, she won't complain. Instead, she gathers up the munny and treats from the bear he took care of and magics them over to him.]

These are yours. Do you have a place to store them?

[spaceracist]

That's what I do.

[Emile watches the magic floating things with a bit of fascination but then nods, grabbing them and placing them into the tactical soft case on his left hip. Interacting with civilians and merchants may not be his strong suit, but it's clear that combat is.]

Do they get sick if they eat too many?

[He gestures over at Spikes, who's happily devouring his ice cream. Mmm, delicious stat bonuses.]

[sailorgenerous]

You're very good at it.

[If nothing else, manners is definitely something she can do. She nods to him and trots on, Spike in tow, trusting he'll follow. With any luck, they won't hit too many more Nightmares before they get to the Fourth District.]

I don't think so - at least, I've never seen it happen. They only seem to eat treats, after all.

[spaceracist]

Beats working for a living.

[But he sounds pleased by the compliment, anyway, and he seems to be in pretty high spirits as he follows her lead.

Spikes takes the opportunity to re-enact parts of the battle to Spike, especially the parts where he did something cool. That mace thing was neat, though!]

[sailorgenerous]

I wouldn't know about that. Then again, my special talent is entirely different from yours.

[They manage to get back to the Fourth District with only two more Nightmare encounters - not bad for going across half the city. Finally, they reach the door of the boutique, and she opens it with a flourish.]

Welcome to the Carousel Boutique!

[Spike, meanwhile, squeaks appreciatively at Spikes' reenactments. Wow, that's pretty awesome! His person doesn't do a lot of fighting, so they work together instead. And look, this is where he lives! Maybe his person will give you a bow tie now.]

[spaceracist]

"Special talent"? I like that. [Yeah somehow he's not surprised a pony doesn't have Assault as a special talent.]

Hot damn.

[Okay, when he sees the inside of the boutique, he's reminded of the one formal officer's ball he'd gone to. He'd pretty much hated dressing up for it, but it was worth it to see the rest of his team in dress uniform, too. And to watch Kat and Carter dance.

But there's one thing that bothers him, as Spikes follows Spike around to inspect the merchandise and ribbons.]

How the hell do you do all this without hands?

[sailorgenerous]

Well, yes. It's what gave me my cutie mark. [She's going to need to explain that pretty soon, isn't she.]

[Rarity can't say she approves of the language, but she knows a show of appreciation when she sees one, and so she just smiles, letting her guest and the Spirits have a look around.]

By magic, mostly. There are some earth pony designers who make everything entirely by hoof, but I've discovered magic makes the detail work just a bit easier.

[Now, how to broach this delicately...] If you'd like a place to...freshen up, I'd be more than happy to show you upstairs.

[spaceracist]

Your what now? [Yeah. See. Humans don't magically get symbols on their butt as a sign of puberty.]

Like what you did with the munny earlier? [He nods. Supposes that makes sense. He's not going to touch 'earth ponies who make everything by hoof' because, well, hooves don't work like that.

He pauses at the "freshen up" comment, though.]

You got a shower or something?

[Man, he hasn't had a shower in weeks.]

[sailorgenerous]

My cutie mark. It's the symbol on my flank. A cutie mark is an outward sign of a pony's special talent, and mine is fashion! [Given the sheer amount of flair in her gesture towards the half-constructed fashion line in her workroom, it's obvious she loves every minute of it.]

Exactly like that. [Hooves do too work like that! He just has a lot to learn.]

A bath, actually. Come with me, please. [Oh good, he's interested. She magics her saddlebags off, settling them on a hook made exactly for just such a purpose, and starts for the stairs.]

[spaceracist]

[He has to chuckle a little at her obvious excitement over fashion. Completely pointless to someone who lives 99% of the time in the same suit of armor, but he does admittedly have an eye for a detail and he can see she's put a lot of work into this. It's good to be passionate about your work - even if it's magical garment construction instead of murdering aliens.]

A bath? Can't remember the last time I had one of those.

[Way too slow. Inefficient. Also not exactly something they have in space, where he spends a lot of his time. Dubiously, he follows her up the stairs and hopes they can support his armored weight.]

[sailorgenerous]

Well, it'll be a nice change then, won't it?

[Hopefully, haven't had a bath in a while refers to the bath and not bathing itself. She won't be bringing it up. The stairs creak a bit, but Moogle architects evidently know their stuff and they hold. She pushes open the door to the bathroom, trots in, and starts to run the bathwater, making sure that the fine wire basket on the side of the bath has enough soap and shampoo and conditioner (he doesn't seem the type to appreciate the loofah). That accomplished, she moves out of the way - the bathroom is spacious, but he's a rather large individual.]

There. Is that warm enough?