Alt-SciTwi -- 100th NST special [✔]

May 1st, 2016
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  1. >"Anon, darling--"
  2. >You ignore your girlfriend's call.
  3. >You know perfectly well why she's calling you.
  5. >"Anonymous--"
  6. >She calls out for you again.
  8. >Trixie glances at you from the copilot's seat.
  9. >"Sounds like someone's in trouble," she mutters with a grin, before shifting her attention back to her book.
  10. >The cover is mostly blank with the exception of [DEUS VULT] scrawled in overly gothic font.
  12. >You look for somewhere to hide.
  13. >Box. Compartment. Anything.
  14. >"Hiding won't help, Anonymous."
  15. "Shut it, Trix."
  16. >You pull out a bunch of unneeded things like oxygen tanks and emergency supplies from under your seat.
  17. >The resulting space looks large enough for you to squeeze in... with some help.
  18. >"That's barely large enough to fit your head through."
  19. "Trixie, you aren't helping."
  21. >Another call, this time it's more thunderous.
  23. "Fine, fine!"
  25. - - - -
  27. >"What in the world is THIS?"
  28. >Twilight doesn't even wait for you to make it through the door.
  29. >She's pointing at an all-too-familiar looking site on her HST TwiPad™ (Designed in Californeighia, patent pending).
  30. >It's the Power Ponies board on
  32. "Look, babe, I can explain--"
  33. >"You've been writing greentexts about us this whole time??"
  34. >Twilight is absolutely livid.
  35. >"The adventures and state secrets that are supposed to be, you know, SECRET? And the stuff about us doing... doing..."
  36. >You've never seen her face this red before.
  37. >"...p-p-private couple lovey dovey stuff??"
  39. >"As if that's a secret to anyone with ears," you hear Trixie muttering, clear as day through the paper-thin walls of The Rainboom.
  40. >Twilight buries her crimson-red face in her hands.
  41. >You cough uncomfortably.
  43. "I-I had to vent somehow! Besides, the events may be true but the characters are PONIES! The whole storyline is so ludicrous that no one would even believe a word of it--"
  45. >Your excuses are cut off abruptly by a flying TwiPad™ aimed squarely at your face.
  47. - - - -
  49. >Back at the helm, you sulk in the pilot seat with bandages on your nose.
  50. "Of all the magic you're familiar with, healing isn't one of them. How typical."
  51. >"That requires an intimate knowledge of human physiology, Anonymous," chides Trixie, slapping your hand away from your face. "Don't touch it, or you'll make it worse."
  52. >You grumble.
  53. "I really need to pick my nose."
  54. >Trixie rolls her eyes.
  56. >Several minutes of uncomfortable silence later, the comms console startles the pilot pair with a ring.
  58. >[Incoming video call from: UNKNOWN NUMBER]
  60. >You and Trixie exchange startled looks. You reach over and hit the accept button.
  61. "H-hello?"
  62. >A familiar visage fills the screen.
  64. >"Hello, silly spoon! Long time, eh?"
  65. >The toothpaste-haired milf flashes a grin in the same manner you've seen her flash her breasts.
  66. "U-uhm..."
  67. >"I know, I know. I should've stayed in touch! But you know how busy Moondancer and I have been."
  68. >"Actually, we haven't," interjects Trixie. "How have you been, Minuette?"
  69. >"Oh, this and that! Wait a minute--"
  70. >Minuette leans into the camera, squinting a little. The lower half of the video fills up with manic rifle-pixie cleavage.
  71. >You look away, blushing furiously.
  73. >"My, my," Minuette frowns. "Whatever happened to your nose, silly spoon?"
  74. >You sigh.
  75. "It's a long story."
  76. >"It can't be longer than whatever you're packing in your pants~"
  77. >The pale-blue mercenary eyes at your bulging crotch, winking seductively.
  78. >You curse your stupid, traitorous penis.
  79. "I really would rather not--"
  81. >Trixie cuts in rather inconveniently.
  82. >"MINUETTE, do you remember the Power Ponies image board Anonymous frequents?"
  83. >Oh, for fucking fuck's sake.
  84. >Minuette thinks for a second.
  85. >"Why, yes! Channel4 dot org or whatever? Isn't that a website for little girls?"
  86. >"Yes, it is. You see, Anonymous and Twilight got in a fight because--"
  88. >This is the worst day ever.
  90. - - - -
  92. >After a round of laughter at your expense, Minuette calls over Moondancer to "catch up on things."
  93. >You wonder at Minuette's definition of the phrase as she retells the gossip with lascivious embellishments.
  94. >Laughter, gawking by Moondancer, followed by more laughter and more gawking.
  95. >As much as you hated being laughed at, you couldn't help but start to chuckle at some of Minuette's exaggerations.
  96. >You even begin to join in on the banter, feeling slightly better about yourself.
  97. >Was this her intention all along? To help you laugh it off?
  99. >"Well, that's enough gossipping for me tonight."
  100. >Minuette stretches and yawns, and boops Moondancer on the nose.
  101. >"You can stay on for a bit longer if you want, just don't stay up too late."
  102. >"Gee, thanks mom," grumbles Moondancer.
  103. >Minuette chuckles, and leans in for a kiss. The resulting exchange is damp enough to be illegal in some states.
  104. >Trixie breathes heavily, not looking away for a second. She silently mouths something along the lines of "teach me sandpie."
  106. >You look away, their wanton display of affection stirring your innards hollow.
  107. >You wonder if things would ever be the same between you and Twilight again.
  109. >"I, uhm," stammers Trixie. "I need to use the shower. For a while."
  111. - - - -
  113. >You and Moondancer chat for a while, reminiscing about all the crazy adventures you've had, the crazy last-stand at the HST headquaters, among others.
  114. >"So," starts Moondancer, after running out of things to reminiscent about.
  115. >She digs out the half-dozenth cigarette of the call and lights it casually.
  116. "So."
  118. >"The truth is--" she blows strings of gossamer-thin smoke at the screen.
  119. >"--The truth is, I've read your greentext. Well, most of it, at least."
  120. >You raise an eyebrow.
  121. >"Entertaining stuff, I must admit. Although I don't appreciate you portraying me as that sweaty shut-in nerd pony with an autistic axe to grind."
  123. "I... Thank you?"
  124. >"No problem," she sucks on the cancer stick again, burning through half of it in one go. "I'm actually a big fan of Power Ponies myself."
  125. >You nod quietly, not sure what to make of this revelation.
  126. >So like a socially well-adjusted normlperson, you decide to ask her a show-related question.
  127. "Wh-who's your favorite pony?"
  128. >"Masked Matter-Horn," she says without hesitation.
  129. >Of course.
  130. >"And don't give me that "Masked Mary-Sue" crap or I will clog your inbox with copies of [Miami Connection]."
  131. "Miami what?"
  132. >"Minuette never stopped ordering them," she says with finality.
  133. >It's clearly not a topic to be pursued any further.
  135. >"Look, man, I'm not the one to shove my nose into friends' relationships--"
  136. >She takes a drag before snuffing out the dying cigarette.
  137. >"What do you think pisses Twilight off more -- the fact that you wrote smut based on the actual sex you've had, or that you've done it without her permission?"
  138. >You open your mouth to speak, only to close again in realization.
  139. >Seeing your hesitation, Moondancer nods in approval.
  140. >"Yep. I've known her for years, Anon. She can be kinkier than Minuette if you get her in the right mood."
  141. >Oh, you're more than familiar with *that* facet of Twilight.
  143. >Minuette takes out another cigarette and fiddles with it for a moment.
  144. >"You still haven't apologized to her, have you?"
  145. >You raise your hands in defense.
  146. "H-hey, I already tried to explain myself to her, and--"
  147. >"And it didn't go too well because excuses aren't apologies."
  148. >She shoves the cancer stick between her lips, letting you mull over her words.
  150. >"Just do it."
  151. "I will."
  152. >"Yesterday you said tomorrow--"
  153. "Actually, it all happened today."
  154. >"Don't let your dreams be dreams."
  155. "Moondancer--"
  156. >"Take that lavender pussy and JUST--"
  159. - - - -
  161. >You quietly shuffle your way to the cabin, stopping at the door leading into Twilight's quarters.
  162. >You raise your hand to knock when you hear muffled groans.
  163. >Huh?
  165. >You slide the door open slowly, wedging yourself in quietly.
  166. >In the usual Twilight fashion, the room is cluttered with various papers and complex books covering sciencey subjects from across the multiverse.
  167. >On the far end of the room is a vaguely Asian room divider, with Twilight's bed behind it.
  168. >The bed you've spent countless nights in, doing *things* with Twilight.
  169. >And the current source of the muffled groans.
  171. >You tiptoe your way through the familiar clearings in the scholastic disarray.
  172. >Just a few feet away from the bed, you hear another moan.
  173. >It's unmistakeably Twilight's.
  174. >"N-nonny~"
  175. >This is getting weird.
  177. >You make it to the partition and peek around it.
  178. >There's the bed.
  179. >And there's Twilight, reclining against a pile of pillows.
  180. >You see her left hand holding up the HST TwiPad™ (Designed in Californeighia, patent pending).
  181. >It's unmistakably displaying the Power Ponies board on
  182. >Her right hand disappears into and beneath her purple panties.
  183. >....NO way.
  185. "Twilight?"
  187. >"AaaAAARUGH!"
  188. >Twilight's right hand slips out of her panties lightning-fast.
  189. >She hurriedly locks her TwiPad™.
  190. >"A-a-a-a-anonymous! Hahahaha! I th-thought you'd be in the cock sleeve. STEVE. COCKPIT."
  192. "Were you just...."
  193. >"Reading research papers, yes!"
  194. >Twilight breathes heavily, wiping her hand on a wad of tissues.
  195. >"S-sweaty hands, amirite? Heh heh heh.... heh..."
  196. >You stare at her, unimpressed.
  198. "That was Channel4."
  199. >"Nope."
  200. "Power Ponies."
  201. >"Most definitely not."
  203. >Taking a hint from your conversation with Moondancer, you decide to prod her with show references.
  204. "Masked Mary-Sue--"
  206. >Twilight slaps her hands over her mouth, too little too late.
  208. "HAH, GOTCHA."
  210. >Twilight rolls her eyes in resignation, pouting all the while.
  211. >"Fine. FINE. I may or may not be a Power Ponies fan, and I may or may not find some smut to be entertaining--"
  212. >She looks away, clearly blushing.
  213. >"--and may or may not have enjoyed the smut written by someone who may or may not be Anonymous..."
  215. >Twilight gets her angry edge back again.
  216. >"L-look. It doesn't matter whether I enjoyed reading it or not. You... You wrote about us! You wrote about all the intimate details we shared... without telling me... and-and-and..."
  218. >You shut her up with a hug.
  220. "Look, I'm sorry that I wrote all that... about us. Without permission."
  221. >You hear Twilight breathing deeply, taking in your scent.
  222. >God, you love it when she does that.
  223. "Even though the characters are made up, I shouldn't have written so frankly about our lives without consulting you first."
  224. >You meet your lips with hers briefly, gently stroking her lavender face.
  225. "I'm really sorry."
  227. >Twilight's eyes dart between yours.
  228. >Suddenly, she grabs your face in her hands and pummels you with the deepest kiss you've had in a long time.
  229. >Her tongue gently wraps and embraces with yours, numbing your senses with sweet, lukewarm, and distinctively Twilight-y flavor.
  230. >You feel yourself being pushed backward towards the bed.
  231. >She breaks the kiss abruptly, and shoves you into the bed.
  232. >The lavender predator wastes no time hopping on top of you, peeling off her tank top.
  233. >You feel her erect nipples rubbing against your chest as she does *that* crawl up your torso, ending with her face pressed against your neck.
  235. >A wave of goosebumps wash over your body as she douses your ear with warm, airy whispers.
  236. >"A-anon... Can I inspire y-you for some smut?"
  238. >"He can," says Trixie, from the other room. "If you'd let me find my earplugs first."
  240. - - - -
  242. >In a darkened basement far, far away, a shadowy figure with shockingly blue hair sits hunched over his laptop.
  243. >The desk is cluttered with wrappers and leftovers.
  244. >Half-finished computer with parts strewn about and forgotten takes up most of the desk space.
  245. >But the blue-haired patrician doesn't seem to mind.
  246. >It's a work in progress, he tells himself.
  247. >After all, he's a busy intellectual.
  248. >The constant burden of engaging in philosophical debates requires careful management of one's time.
  250. >The basement is dead-quiet except the clik-clak of keystrokes and occasional rush of water running through the plumbing.
  251. >[Honestly, I don't get the appeal,] he pauses for a moment, taking a big gulp from his Big Gulp.
  252. >[It's like this general is full of nothing but /u/ cucks content with some bacon-mane Stacy deflowering their waifu.]
  253. >His light-blue eyes glaze over the screen, making sure that his argument is sound.
  254. >Reputation is *everything* on anonymous imageboards.
  255. >Especially Channel4.
  257. >He adds finishing touches to his already-profound argument, polishing it to the point of being irrefutable.
  258. >[It's rather degenerate, to be honest.]
  259. >The clik-clak of keystrokes intensify, demonstrating his familiarity with making rapid arguments and demolishing anyone who dares to challenge his considerable intellect.
  260. >[I hope you faggots enjoy the thread, because you've all ruined it for me.]
  261. >[t. Flash Sentry]
  263. >With the final keystroke, Brad smiles smugly to himself.
  264. >Yet another defeat for the dykeshitters.
  266. >Sapphire Saviors NEVER lose.
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