Patches

>You find a broken pony in a dumpster, she's clinging to life, missing two legs, her right foreleg, and her left hindleg,
>You can see patches of her artificial skin is missing, showing her whirring gears and sparking electrics.
>You see she's got a strong will to live, but you only have a basic understanding of how they work, you pick her up and cradle her in your arm, digging in the trash you find a few pieces, but the other limbs are completely absent.
>You climb out of the dumpster and look at her, she's looking at you, she has a small gash across her face, and you can see the lens on her left eye is cracked.
>"Do you have a name?"
>Her mouth moves, no noise comes out, but you try to read her lips, but can't make anything out.
>You shake your head. "Sorry... I don't..."
>She brings her remaining fore hoof up to her throat and points at a gash running across it.
>You nod. "Come on, I'll take you home and see what I can do."
>You cradle her in your arms like a small child, keeping her close to your chest.
>She rests her head against your chest and nuzzles, she closes her eye, seeming to fall asleep in your arms.

>You arrive at your home, a crappy apartment in the rundown residential district in your city.
>You set the pony down on your couch, careful to leave her in a way that her sparking wounds won’t set fire to anything.
>You turn the light on and finally get a good look at her as you kneel beside her.
>She looks up at you with a look of interest and confusion.
>Her fur is a pale blue-ish purple, and her mane is a light golden blond.
>You pull your phone out of your pocket and turn on the flashlight, you lean in getting a closer look at the holes in her silicone skin.
>Whatever made the holes was quite violent as the edges are torn jagged.
>Inside you can see her endoskeleton and all the techno whatsits that crisscross her entire torso.
>Her body is covered in dirt and grime, some broken cables are leaking some kind of fluid.
>You sigh, you get up and go over to your battle station and boot it up.
>While waiting for that to start, you go over to the kitchen and grab a couple of tv trays, as they’re the only portable table you own, and stand them next to your battle station.
>You sit in your command chair and open chrome to explore the internet.
>You do a bit of searching before coming across some schematics for ponies on a forum post from half a decade ago.
>Better than nothing you save what images you can to your pc before browsing youtube for tutorials on pony maintenance.
>You struggle to find any ponies that have similar coloring to her, or schematics that look anything like her innards.
>After sifting through a few videos you go over and pick up the pony before laying her on the tv trays.
>You dig through your junk before finding a few tools.
>A small pair of pliers and a screwdriver with interchangeable bits.
>You look her over again, not sure where to start.
“Uh… do you know how to fix any of this?” You gesture to her gaping wounds and fizzing wiring.
>She shrugs and shakes her head.
“This is gonna take a while…”
>She nods her head in understanding.
>So you begin, finding the seams and screws to carefully remove her artificial skin and set them aside.
>You start with just stopping the leaks and following the sparking wires to where they connect, detaching what you can to reduce the fire hazard.
>She lets you move her around and work on her. She just watches with a look of fascination in her good eye.

>Eventually you stop all the leaking hoses and have removed and replaced the sparking wires as best as you can.
>Next you look over her torn up skin.
“I might have to find a replacement… I don’t think I can fix this.”
>She reaches over with her hoof and pulls her skin into a protective hug.
“I guess I’ll see what I can do…”
>You see the servos on her naked cheeks move into a smile.
>You start searching the ebays and craigslists for pony skins.
>You can’t find any matches to her colors, and the ones closest are really expensive for some reason.
>You settle on just ordering a few really cheap skins, though, the colors are going to clash horribly.
“Alright, I guess we’ll just have to wait for those to arrive. Lets put you back together for now.”
>You put her back together with what you have on hand, then pick her up and take her into the kitchen.
>You turn on the water in the sink, and she suddenly freaks out, trying to get out of your grasp.
“Woah! Hey, calm down, I’m just going to wipe the dirt offa yah.”
>She stops struggling then looks at the running water.
>You wet a rag and take your time scrubbing the grime out of her coat, being careful not to get any water inside of her.
>She relaxes into the bath, a small smile on her muzzle.

>After the bath, you carry her over to the couch and you sit down, turning on the TV, flipping through random channels.
“Anything in particular you wanna watch?”
>She blinks, seemingly taken by surprise.
>She slowly nods and looks at the boob tube as you slowly flip through channels.
>It lands on some nonsense cartoons and she taps her hoof on your arm so you let her watch.
>It's a classic, road runner and wiley going at it.
>Some slapstick happens and she quietly convulses, you look at her with worry, then realize she’s laughing, but due to her damaged voice box, she doesn’t make a sound.
“Gonna have to get that fixed too...” you mutter, she looks up at you curiously and you shrug.
>The next week are fairly uneventful.
>Until you find a way to learn her name, you’ve just been calling her Hey You and Pony Girl.
>She’s worked out how to get around on only two legs, hopping around like some kind of terminator rabbit.
>Its kinda cute, in a really sad and messed up kinda way.
>Eventually the packages come and you bring them over to your battle stations.
“Hey Pony Girl, I think you’re gonna want to see this.”
>She follows you over as you start going through the boxes to see what’s what.
>You lay out a couple of skins on the floor where she can look them over.
“Pick which one you want to wear for now, I’ll see about patching up your old skin.”
>She looks them over, the color choices aren’t many, but she points at a mellow green coat with a faded pink mane and tail.
>After another bout on the operating table, you get her into the skin, sans missing limbs, and you both notice it’s not a perfect fit, but it’ll do for now.

>She was content to sit on the couch flipping through the channels while you worked on her old skin.
>You started by trimming the edges of the holes so they were at least flat sided polygons with smooth edges to work with.
>Then using some other skin scraps you bought, you trace the holes onto the other skin with a marker, then use an exacto blade to carefully cut out the patches.
>You only pricked your fingers a few times in the process, but you managed to sew all the patches into place.
>Happy with your work you set your tools aside and hold up the skin, giving it a once over before showing it to Her.
“What do you think?”
>She looks over and smiles, hopping off of the couch she proinks over and scrambles onto the work table.
>She helps you get her out of the misfitting skin and into her old skin.
>She looks herself over, the patches on her blue coat are a few different colors, making it look like she has polka dots.
>She nods her head in approval, then rears up on the table top and pulls you into a one arm hug.
>You pat her back, then she lets go and sits on the table.

>You dig through the boxes until you find what you’re looking for.
“Okay, lets see here.”
>You hold up an eye, she looks at it with astonishment.
“Hold still.”
>You take part of her face off and remove the broken eye, then replace it with the new one, luckily the connecting ports were the same.
>You set down the old eye to start putting her face back together.
>She picks it up and looks at it with an unreadable look, then up at you with a sad smile, her right eye, that matches the broken eye glows with a light lavender blue color, the new eye has a dry grass green glow to it.
>You notice the size of the irises don’t match, but it’s kinda cute.
>She sets the broken eye down and lets you put her face together the rest of the way.
>After her face is put together you reach for the old eye, but she scoops it up and shakes her head.
“Do you want to keep it?”
>She nods.
“Alright, I’ll set it over here out of the way.”
>She hands it to you and you set it over beside your computer.

“Right, I think next we should see about your missing legs.”
>She perks up as you turn to dig through the boxes again.
>You pull out a pair of legs, which correspond to her missing legs.
>She lays on her back and angles her butt towards you so you have easy access to the damaged hip.
>You manage to find the mounting screws and unscrew the broken mount that was left of her old leg, then slot the new leg into place.
>A few wires plugged in, and a few twiddles of the screwdriver later and she’s testing the limb, moving it around, you see her matching the movements with her other hind leg.
>The new leg didn’t come with a skin, so it will have to be bear for now, but you doubt She’ll mind.
“Nice. Now for your foreleg.”
>She scoots around again, laying on her side so the damaged shoulder is facing you.
>You work quickly, the process is just like her hind leg, so it goes in a little faster after detaching the remains of her arm.
“There, how’s that?”
>She hops down and trots around the room, you notice she has a little wobble to her, but otherwise she’s fine.
>She then tackles you, knocking the wind out of you as you fall to the floor.
>She mashes her fuzzy cheek into your chest as she nuzzles and squeezes the air from your lungs with a death hug.
>It takes a while, but you manage to pry her off, you both laugh, her in glee, you at her reaction.

>The next few days you spend tinkering and repairing what you can in her.
>Minor fixes, such as more permanent wire replacements, and topping off her fluid levels.
>She looks up at you, drinking motor cooling lubricant through a straw like its a juice box.
>Eventually you removed her broken voice box and scoured the internets for a replacement.
>No matter what numbers or writing you find on the damaged part, you can’t find any matches.
“Sorry… looks like you’ll have to stay quiet for a while...”
>She shrugs and nods her head in acceptance.
>As you turn back to your computer to continue your search, she hops down from the table, carrying her drink with her, she hops on the couch and turns the TV on.
>You smile at that. She’s gotten quite adept at using the small buttons on the tv remote with her hooves.
>No… it can’t be that simple can it?

>You turn to her and pull out your phone.
“I want you to try something.”
>You open a text to speech app and set the phone in front of her on the couch.
“Try typing something.”
>She blinks, her hoof reaching out and touching the on screen keypad, nothing happens.
“Drat.”
>You dig through your junk and find a stilis for a tablet you haven’t used in years.
“Here, try this.”
>She takes it in her teeth and pokes the screen, the corresponding letter appears in the space just above the keyboard.
>Her eyes light up and she starts pecking at the screen with the stilis.
>The silky smooth voice of Kevan Brighting comes from the phone.
>“Does this really work?”
>Her eyes lit up and she starts typing out another message.
>“How did you make this? This is amazing.”
>You smile.
“I didn’t make this, someone else did… I only just thought of it now.”
>”Still though, this will make it so much easier to ask for things.”
“Speaking of asking things… what’s your name?”
>She was about to type again, but then she gets a strange look, and seems to stare at something a million miles away.

>You tried getting her attention, talking to her, poking and shaking her, had no effect, so you sat and watched over her.
>She’s as still as a statue, not reacting to any stimuli.
>After staring off into space for nearly an hour, she blinks and looks at you.
>She taps on the phone in front of her. ”File not found.” You hear your phone say.
>You blink.
“Wait, what do you mean?”
>She looks at the floor then at you again as she pecks out a message. “Whatever my name is or was, has been deleted.”
>She’s getting quite fast at typing.
>You run your hands over the back of your head.
“Shoot… well… how about a new name?”
>She perks up, her irises flash. “Awaiting input.”
“Uhhh… crap, I’m bad at this… gimme a sec.”
>She stares at you, a calm smile on her muzzle.
>You look her over, at her patched up body, at her mismatched eyes, at her scraggly mane.
“How about Patches?”
>You see her eyes blink. “Name accepted. Hello, my name is Patches, what is your name?” She holds up a hoof to shake.
“Nice to meet you Patches, I’m Anon.”
>You both break down giggling.

>You awake to a strange sensation.
>You slowly gain your senses.
>You’re laying in bed, and there’s a strange weight on your chest that wasn’t there when you went to bed.
>You slowly open your eyes.
>Right in your face is a pair of mismatched glowing eyes.
>You did NOT let out a girly scream and throw Patches across the room.
>Luckily she landed in your dirty laundry pile.
“Oh shit, sorry, are you okay?”
>You sit up and look at her, she looks at you upside down with a bemused look.
>She nods and rolls off of the pile onto her hooves.
“So… did you need something?”
>Glancing at your clock, and out the window, you see it’s the middle of the night.
>She nods, hops back up on the bed and snuggles into your chest as you lay back down.
“Deciding you’re tired of sleeping on the couch?”
>She nods again.
>Her glowing eyes give the room a soft glow.
“Well, alright… good night.”
>You close your eyes to fall back asleep, but not before you feel her arms hug your chest, and you move your arms up to hug her in return.

>You wake up the next morning.
>Your personal heater isn’t in bed with you when you wake up.
>Something smells good though.
>After a good yawn and stretch you get up and wander into the kitchen.
>You find Patches standing on a stool, a spatula in her mouth, and some eggs frying in a pan.
>Next to you is your phone, on which she has youtube open and she’s watching a how to video for cooking eggs.
>You chuckle.
>Apparently she didn’t hear you come in, as she whipped her head around, sending a partially cooked egg flying across the room to splat against the wall.
>She sees you, then the mess she made, trying to decide between grabbing a rag, or not letting the eggs burn.
“Woah, calm down. I got this.”
>After you clean up the mess, you sit at the table and wait.
>She keeps stealing glances over at you as she cooks.
>She added an extra egg to replace the fallen brethren.
>Eventually she decides the eggs are done and plates then before carrying them over to you and setting them on the table.
“So what’s this for?” You ask as you take a bite.
>You take another bite, it’s actually quite good, could use a little salt.
>She turns on the voice app on your phone. “I wanted to find a way to thank you.”
“Oh… You don’t have to do that.”
>She shakes her head. “No, but I wanted to. I could have died in the trash… but you saved me.”
“So you made me eggs?”
>She shakes her head. “Not just eggs. I’m going to learn to cook for you from now on. Its the least I can do, since I’m staying here rent free.”
>You finish your eggs.
“Well, in that case, can I have more please?“
>She grabs your empty plate with a giddy smile and starts frying up a couple more eggs.

>After breakfast, you decide it’s time for groceries.
>Patches looks nervous when you ask her to come with you.
“You don’t have to come if you’d rather stay here.”
>She puts on a nervous smile. “No, I want to, besides, I sit around here enough as it is.”
>You smile and close the door behind her.
>You walk together in silence, seeing as she can’t type out a message and walk at the same time.
>It’s a short walk, just a couple of blocks, and you’re at the supermarket.
>You see other folks are out and about with their own ponies.
>You also notice how the other ponies react to seeing Patches, many of them shying away from her.
>She notices too, but puts on a brave front and a calm smile.
>You pet her mane, you can feel she’s trembling.
>Inside the store isn’t much better, but you both choose to ignore the stares.
>She’s happy enough to use one of the shopping saddles the store provides by the door.
>At least you now know her new legs are at least as sturdy as her original legs.
>You slowly make your way down aisle after aisle, selecting various things to put in the basket.
>You decide you’ve got enough for this trip and wander around to the checkout.
>A pony is working the register you come up to.
>As you start unloading the cart onto the counter, you hear a gasp.
>You look at the pony, and her eyes shifting between you and Patches.
“Uhh… it’s not what it looks like?”
>The clerk pony nods and continues scanning the items as they come across the belt, albeit, looking quite shaken up.


>You take the basket off of Patches and turn to pay the pony.
>Patches pulls the phone out of your pocket and types out a message.
>”No, really. He’s the one who fixed me.”
>The clerk pony’s ears perk up at this. “What happened?”
>”I can’t remember, so the memory must have been wiped. But I woke up in a trash pile.”
>The clerk puts a hoof to her muzzle in shock.
>”I was there for a few hours before he appeared and took me home.”
“It was the right thing to do… you were hurt, and I couldn’t just leave you there.”
>The clerk smiles at you, as you’re about to pay when you see a few bucks are reduced from the total price.
“Wow… thanks.”
>”Don’t mention it… I’ll get in trouble.” She winks at you as you head for the door with Patches in tow.
>As you and Patches walk back to your block, you can’t help but wonder what had happened to Patches before she ended up in the dumpster.
>You think about asking, but decide now isn’t a good time to reopen wounds that are still healing.
>You turn your key in the door and let Patches in first.
>Closing the door on your way in, you head over to the kitchen and start putting the groceries away.
>”So what are you hungry for?”
>You turn around to see Patches has donned an apron and is looking at you eagerly with the stilis in her mouth.

“Uhm… well, what can you make?”
>She looks through the fridge and cupboards.
>”How about sketti?”
“Sure, sounds good.”
>She gets to work collecting the ingredients, then pulls up a how to video for spagetti.
>You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm as she gets to work.
>Deciding to stay out of her way you go and sit down and turn on the TV.
>Neat, A new hope is playing on one of the channels, and it’s about halfway through.
>By the time the credits roll, you smell something good.
>You can hear water boiling and pots clanging.
>She must really be working up a storm.
>You get up and peak into the kitchen, just in time to see her scoop some noodles into a bowl before ladling the sauce onto them.
>She smiles at you around the ladle in her mouth as you slip over to sit at the table.
>She sticks a fork in the bowl then sets it on the table before you.
“Thank you.”
>She sits across from you as you dig in.
>It’s amazing, just like ma used to make.
>You look at her.
“Uhm… do… you eat anything?”
>She blinks and looks at you then herself.
>She pulls out the phone and taps away with the stilis.
>”I don’t think I can. But I appreciate the lubricating coolant you’ve been giving me.”
>Her smile is reassuring, but you still have questions about her.
“Maybe I can look at your insides again and see what they do? I don’t really know what all your parts are for, I only fixed them.”
>She leans back and looks at her very rubbable belly.
>”Okay.”

>”Do you think I’ll get to go to valhalla?” You hear your phone ask.
>You pause, leaning over Patches, elbow deep in robot organs.
“Uh… what?”
>Without a face, her cheeky grin is kinda terrifying. She types again.
>”Well, I’m shiny and chrome on the inside.” She taps her hoof on one of her steel ribs.
“Well, I suppose you would...”
>Shaking your head you return to what you were doing.
“I swear, no more action movies for you… shouldn’t have let you watch it...”
>Looking around at her insides to see if you can tell anything.
>And you found something you didn’t expect.
>Plastic artificial organs like some kind of prosthetics you’d expect to find in a hospital, or a patient who couldn’t get an organ donor.
>Of the plastic organs, it doesn’t seem like everything is here, just a stomach, intestines, and esophagus.
>You can tell Patches is getting bored, she’d beaten tetris several times on your phone.
>”So what’s the prognosis doc?”
>You snigger and look at her.
“So, looking at your insides, it looks like you can eat and… well use the bathroom.”
>She blinks.
>“Use the bathroom?” She gives an uneasy glance at her insides.
>You nod.
“Yep… looks like you have a stomach and a pooper, so, in theory, you will probably need to remove waste after you’ve taken all the fuel out of it.”
>”Sounds gross.”
“It is.”
>You pull your hands out, some reason they have obtained a blue goo.
>Looks and smells like the hydraulic fluid in her legs.
>You shrug and wipe your hands on a rag and hand Patches her skin.
>As she’s getting dressed you walk into the kitchen.
“So, wanna try it out?”
>She pauses, her face half way on. A look of disgust on her face.
>”Going to the bathroom?”
“No tin man, eating something.”
>”Oh, I knew that. What can I try?”

>After a few minutes looking around the kitchen, you hand her a slice of bread.
>She tentatively takes a bite.
>Her eyes widen.
> She slowly chews, her eyes watering up as she looks at you like she’s been fed by the hand of an angel.
>”I can taste it!” She chews noisily and chomps another bite. “Its squishy and sticks to my teeth.”
>She finishes the bread and swallows.
>Next you hand her a potato chip.
>She’s startled slightly by the loud crunch when she bit down.
>”This one is crumbly. Feels good to chew. The flavor is stronger than the bread.”
>You look around the kitchen, trying to think of something else.
“Do you taste the oils you’ve been drinking?
>She nods. “Yeah, I like em, but they don’t taste anything like bread or chips.”
“Hmm...”
>You go to a cupboard and pull out an opaque brown bottle.
>You go to the fridge and pull out the milk carton and grab a glass from the drying rack.
>You quickly whip up some chocolate milk and set a straw in it before setting it on the table.
“Try this.”
>Patches looks at the glass curiously.
>She leans over the cup and takes a sniff.
>Then she captures the straw in her lips and takes a small sip, that’s immediately followed by her eyes widening and she chugs the rest of the glass.
>You make a mental note to redo the stitches on her cheeks as you see bits of brown drip through the seam.
>She rapidly pecks at the text app.
>”That was so good. Can I have another?”
>You quickly whip up another cup, and almost before you set it down, the glass is empty again.
>Then disaster strikes, as you’re setting down her third cup, her over exuberance causes her hoof to knock over the cup, spilling chocolate milk all over the table.
>Her eyes start to tear up and her lower lip wobbles.

“Uh oh.”
>She starts crying, silently due to no voice, but it’s still a gut wrenching thing to witness.
>You grab a rag and quickly wipe up the mess before it can drip on the floor, and in a jiffy, you have her cup refilled.
>She doesn’t seem to notice, as her hooves are covering her face and eyes.
>You kneel beside her chair and pull her into a hug, holding her tight.
>At first she’s startled, but slowly calms down, you can hear her sniffling.
>She smooshes her face into your chest, her hooves hugging you tight.
>She’s shaking a little, trembling all over.
“Its okay. It’s only spilt milk.”
>You try to lean back to see her face, but she refuses to budge, burying her face completely.
>You pick her up, and carry her to your room, bringing her chocolate milk with her.
>You set the milk on the nightstand and lay down, keeping Patches on your chest.
>You stroke her mane and back slowly, not really sure how to help, or if you can help.
>Eventually her sobs calm down to sniffles.
>She slowly tilts her head back, keeping her chin firmly attached to your sternum.
“You okay?”
>She shakes her head slightly.
“You wanna talk about it?”
>Another head shake.
“You don’t have to say anything then. But it will probably make you feel better.”
>She shrugs her shoulders and you wipe away some tears with your sleeve.
>You try not to roll your eyes at the new lubricant stain on your sleeve.
“Is it because of the milk?”
>She shakes her head.
“Did… you remember something?”
>She nods.
“Did it have something to do with spills?”
>She gives a noncommittal shrug before nodding.
“Was it… your previous owner?”
>She tensely nods her head.
>You sigh, patting her head and ruffling her mane.
“Well, don’t worry they can’t hurt you ever again. I won’t let them.”
>She cracks a genuine smile and nuzzles your chest, she closed her eyes and let out a big sigh, snuggling in for nap time.

>You wake up the next day, Patches is still sound asleep, having flopped over next to you.
>You crack your eyes open and look over the scarred face of your bedmate.
>The thought of someone hurting this kind and gentle little robot makes you clench your fists in blind rage.
>You take a deep breath and calm down.
>You notice the cup on the night stand is empty.
>You smile at that.
>You carefully slip out of bed, careful to not wake her.
>Grabbing the cup, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and set the cup in the kitchen sink.
>Your belly rumbles and you look around at what you’re hungry for.
>You know exactly what to make.
>You grab some eggs from the fridge.
>Setting a pan on the stove, you drop a healthy slice of butter in the pan.
>You grab a few slices of bread, and spin the bag and set it down before turning to watch the butter in the pan melt.
>You tear holes in the center of each slice of bread.
>You can fit four slices of bread in the pan at a time, so you do.
>Working quickly you crack four eggs and carefully pour their innards into the holes in the center of the bread.
>Then you grab a flipper, and wait.
>Feeling enough time has passed, you carefully flip all three egg-in-a-holes, only breaking one yoke this time.
>The cooked sides are perfectly golden brown and crisp.
>After another minute or two, you scoop each one up and stack them on a plate.
>As you’re half way through the second batch, you hear hooves on tile and look over.
>Patches looks at you curiously, then spots the plate with bread stacked on the table.
>You hold up a hand when she starts to move towards it.
“Hang on, they’re not ready yet.”

>You plate the second batch on your own plate and turn the stove off.
>Setting your plate on the table next to Patche’s, you pull a bottle of maple syrup off of a shelf and give each plate a healthy drizzle of syrup, being careful to only syrup the toasty part, and not the eggs.
>You put the bottle away, bust out a fork for yourself, and scoot the second plate to Patche’s side of the table.
“Bone apple tea.”
>She tilts her head at that as she climbs onto her chair.
>She gives her meal a curious look over before leaning in and chomping a small bite out of one side.
>The yokes are perfectly runny, and the syrup and butter create a perfect sweet and salty blend that makes the tongue tingle a little.
>She opens her mouth to say something, then realizes no sounds come out, and she looks around for where the phone got left.
>After a quick hop across the room and back she types out a quick message.
>”This is so good. I’ve never imagined anything like it. Sweet, savory, crunchy and creamy.”
>She digs right back into her plate, chewing slowly as to savor the flavors.
>You smile as you take your own bite.
>You did good anon, you did good.

>Later that day, you’re sitting at your computer, doing some work from home.
>Working for a tech company has its perks.
>Patches has been watching TV and movies just about every day.
>Her interest in the terminator movies had you a little worried.
>You feel something nudge your arm and look down to see Patches poking you with a hoof.
“Sup? You need something?”
>She nods, but looks away embarrassed.
“Uh… what is it.”
>She doesn’t look at you as she taps something out on the phone.
>”Can you show me how to use the bathroom?”
>You both pause awkwardly at that.
“Nope.”
>Her eyes widen in fear.
>”What do you mean?”
“I ain’t potty training you.”
>”Then what do I do?”
>You run your hands over your face. You did not want to have to deal with this.
“Just… sit on the toilet and wait.”
>You both just stare at each other for a bit, a blush forming on both of your faces.
>She shuffles over to the bathroom and closes the door.
>You let out a shudder as the heebie jeebies fade.
>You get back into doing your work.
>An hour passes and there’s no sign of the purple patchy pony.
>You knock on the door to the bathroom.
“You okay in there?”
>You hear tapping on your phone through the closed door. “This is gross and my butt feels weird.”
>You chuckle.
“That’s being alive in a nutshell.”
>”But I don’t wanna be gross.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to go back to just drinking oils. No more chocolate milk.”
>”Woah, hey, don’t go making threats like that.”
>You chuckle.
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to get used to this then.”
>You hear her fidgeting, then the toilet flushes.
>”Uhm.”
“Yes?”
>”I’m going to test and see if I’m waterproof, please don’t come in.”
>You hear the bathtub faucet turn on.
“Why would you…?”
>You shake your head.
“Don’t get my phone wet. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’ll assume you died.”
>”Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
>You hear the water splash a little, then scrubbing noises.
>Now you REALLY don’t want to know.

>Another hour later, as you were getting ready to exhume the corpse of your fallen roommate, the door to the bathroom slowly opens.
>You look over and see a soggy pony slowly walk out of the bathroom, pretending you can’t see her.
>She creeps over to the couch, flops on it with a wet squish, and starts peeling her skin off while watching TV.
>She holds out her face and wrings it like a rag, water dripping onto the carpet.
>You roll your eyes.
>The carpets were due for a cleaning anyway.
>You turn back to your computer, finishing up a couple of spreadsheets for the company.
>You’re startled out of your trance like work state by the sudden appearance of robopone.
>You look at Patches, who is without her skin.
“You okay?”
>She nods. “My skin got wet, so I’m letting it dry out.”
“Okay.”
>She sits next to you, looking at the screen.
>”What’s that?”
“Excel, a program I use for work.”
>”Where do you work?”
“I work from home, since all my work is done on the computer, I can just send the completed work to the company.”
>”What kind of work do you do?”
“Mostly just graphic numbers and tracking how much money the company is making versus spending.”
>”Oh, so you’re an accountant?”
“Basically.”
>She sits and watches you type numbers and words on the grid of infinite boredom.
>Eventually she gets up and goes to the kitchen.
>You pay no attention to her as you hear the sounds of cooking start to emanate from the kitchen.

>After finishing up with today's reports, you decide you’re hungry after your belly rumbled for the twentieth time in so many minutes.
>You get up, stretching your back and arms, hearing lots of joints pop through out.
>You stepped over to the kitchen to see Patches with a flipper in her mouth, a couple of sammaches frying in a pan, and a couple bowls of red soup cooking in the nuker.
>You smell the butter and cheese grilling in the pan, your mouth waters a little, you go and sit at the table, something you never did before you found your house guest.
>You see she has a grease stained paper plate with a few cheese sandwiches stacked up already cooked.
>She flips the last two onto the plate, then sets them on the table before grabbing the bowls from the microwave one at a time and setting them on the table.
>You take a deep breath of the tomato soup.
“This smells amazing.”
>She sits in her chair and smiles at you.
>You shudder, that is so creepy without a face.
>”Thank you! Now lets dig in.” She dips her face into her bowl of soup and tries to take a sip, but it just runs out the sides of her muzzle.
>You try not to laugh.
“Try putting on your face first, at least.”
>She looks embarrassed as she skips into the living room and back real quick, her head covered in skin, the rest of her still naked, looking like a science experiment.
>She dips her head in and takes a sip, smiling as the soup stays in her mouth.
>You watch with interest as you see the soup go down her transparent throat and into her belly where it pools with some earlier meal.
>Okay, kinda gross, but also neat. You try not to look too far south, as you can see her next dump forming.
>You shake your head of the mental image and try some of your soup and a cheese sandwich.
>The sandwich is perfectly over cooked, so the butter and the crunch compliment the chewy cheesy goodness inside.
>The tangy tomato soup complements the grilled cheese perfectly.
>You hum in delight as you enjoy your lunch.

>After lunch, you help Patches wash the dishes.
>You did the soap and scrubbing, and she did the drying and racking.
>After you finish with the dishes you walk into the living room and look over Patches’ skin, the inside of the silicone is still wet, while the fur on the outside is merely damp.
>You pull the skin inside out and give it a good shake, water drips all over the room.
>Patches watches. “What are you doing?”
“Just making sure you don’t get rusty.”
>She rolls her eyes and laughs.
>After determining the skin is dry enough you help her put it back on.
>Its kinda freaky how life like it looks once it’s all on and in place.
>Minus your amazing repair job.
>Patches resumes her place on the couch flipping through the channels.
>With nothing else to do, you sit beside her and can’t help but pet her neck and back as you watch TV.
>She leans into the pets as she settles on some space documentary.
>You don’t know if she’s actually interested in space science or if stars are just pretty.
>Either way the soothing narrator’s voice is starting to put you to sleep.

>You wake up on the couch, you don’t know how much time has passed.
>You notice you’ve got a blanket on you.
>And you can feel patches lying with her head on your belly.
>You’re so cozy you don’t feel like moving.
>You glance down, and see Patches is still watching the TV, some other program is on, but you pay no attention to it.
>As carefully as you can, you slowly move one of your hands up, slowly, silently, as to not alert her, you slip a couple of fingers into her mane and pet her head.
>You suppress a laugh when she just about jumps out of her skin.
>She looks at you with an annoyed smirk, then settles into the head pets while watching whatever is on the TV.
>This is nice.
>You decide you could lay here forever.
>But you can’t.
>With a sigh of disappointment you get up and go to the bathroom.
>As you’re stepping back out, you almost trip over Patches who is standing right on the other side of the door.
“Jebus crebus.”
>You kneel down to her.
“Do you need something?”
>She nips the hem of your shirt and starts pulling.
>You chuckle and follow her as she drags you back to the couch.
>With a shove she’s set you back into your spot, she puts the blanket back over you, and resumes her cuddle spot.
“Well, alright then.”
>You resume the head pets, the content smile on her face is enough to melt your heart.
>If cuteness were harmful, you’d have died immediately.

>Another couple of weeks have gone by the weather slowly getting warmer outside.
>You’re just finishing up another chart for work and send it off when you get a rumbly in your tumbly.
>You look over and see Patches is in her same spot on the couch, flipping through channels with a bored look on her face.
>You do a quick search on the maps and find a park.
>You get up and stretch, once again a symphony of joints popping make you think you’re part bubble wrap.
>You walk into the living room and flop onto the couch next to Patches.
>She blinks and looks at you, she pecks at your phone. “What’s up?”
“You feel like going to the park?”
>She perks up. “Not until you asked. Why?”
>You get up.
“Come on, let's go outside for a couple hours.”
>Without missing a beat she turns the TV off and sprints to the door.
>You get up, making sure to pocket your phone and the stilis in case she needs to talk later.
>She rears up and paws at the doorknob.
>The door opens suddenly and she falls through, landing with a thump.
>She looks embarrassed as you step out and help her up.
“Careful now, we don’t want to have to fix you before we make it to the side walk.”
>She smiles and nods.

>In a dense city like this, it was easier to walk or take a bus wherever you needed to go than to drive, the tight gridwork of roads were always congested with taxis and service trucks.
>A few blocks over you and Patches had caught a bus.
>You paid for both fares.
>The look of wonder on Patches’ face was interesting.
“Have you ever been on a bus before?”
>She shrugs and types in reply. “If I have been, the memory is lost.”
>You pet her a couple times.
“I’m sorry you had to go through… whatever it was that happened before I found you.”
>She smiles. “Its okay. I don’t remember it. So I’m fine with pretending it never happened.”
>You think on that for a moment.
“I can understand that, but I also would want to know who did this to you, and at least get the police involved.”
>She looks at the floor for a bit. “Thank you, I really mean it, but I’m happy just not knowing at all.”
>You sigh, giving her a side hug with a good squeeze of the ribs.
“Okay, I’ll forget too, for you.”
>”Thank you.”

>You sit in companionable silence as you both watch the busy world moves around the bus until you see the stop at the park coming up.
>When the bus stops, you wait for and elderly man to walk pass before you usher Patches off of the bus.
>Patche’s eyes go wide.
>In the middle of this jungle of steel and stone, a great green pasture of grass, trees, a pond, and some playground equipment children and smaller ponies are climbing and playing games on.
>You walk slowly along one of the paths that wind through the park.
>You notice you’re alone and look back, you see Patches just standing there, looking around wide eyed.
“You okay?”
>She seems to snap out of it with a shake of her head.
>She trots up along side you with a happy sproing in her step.
>She looks around at the lush scenery with a wide smile on her muzzle.
“If you wanna go play for a bit, go ahead, just make sure you stay where I can see you.”
>She rears up and gives you a bone crushing hug, then with a hop skip and a jump, she quickly falls into a dead sprint and starts running laps around the large open fields.
>There’s no way you can keep up with that, so you find a bench and sit down to watch.
>Something about the manic smile on her muzzle as she runs like her tail is on fire just makes you feel good knowing you’ve done something to make her happy.

>Man that robot horse can run.
>It’s been about an hour since you’ve sat down, and all you’ve done is watch Patches run laps around the field at an impressive pace.
>You can’t help but smile.
>Seems her replacement legs work just fine for her.
>The people watching at this park is pretty good too.
>Fairly mellow people traffic when you consider just how dense the city around you is.
>Your focus drifts back over to Patches, seems someone has come up and started talking to her.
>Looks like a pre teen kid and her own pony.
>Patches seemed tense at first, lots of head shaking and hoof gesturing.
>You run your hand over the phone shaped bulge in your pocket.
>You notice Patches points at you, the girl and the pony look at you.
>The other pony is white with a fancy curly purple mane and tail.
>A diamond ring and sewing needle on her butt mark.
>They start walking towards you, the girl’s pony walking in front.
>The pony walks right up to you with an indignant look. “Did you hurt this poor filly?”
>You and the girl looked a little surprised by the pony’s accusation, but you can tell she’s serious.
>Patches’ look of worry was mixed with a little bit of annoyance at the word ‘filly’.
”No ma’am. In fact, I’m the one who fixed her.”
>She seems taken aback.
>The girl tries to say something, but the pony makes flustered noises.
>”I apologize for my insulting words. But you simply must understand how the assumption came to mind.”
>You nod, the pony turns to look at Patches.
>”Although, you’ve done a pretty amateur job with the stitching, I simply can’t deny their functionality.”

>The girl speaks up. “Miss Rarity, since she isn’t being hurt, can we just go now?”
>The pony shakes her head. “Tut tut. I simply can not let this pony go on looking like this.”
>Patches’ eyes go wide and she starts taking steps backward.
>You pull out your phone and hold it towards Patches.
>Patches gets cut off as she was about to type a response.
>”Don’t be afraid darling, I’m not going to do anything too extreme… if I can help myself.”
>You watch as the pony, Rarity, starts ushering your pony down a path.
>You look at the little girl.
“So… do we just follow them?”
>She nods. “Yeah.” She lets out a sigh and starts following with her head back in a mock lazy fashion. “When she gets like this, there really isn’t anything you can do about it.”
>You nod as you both start following the ponies.
>Patches looks back at you with a worried look, you reassure her with a smile and a shrug.
>She rolls her eyes and hangs her head, following Rarity.
>It’s a short walk from the park to a small shop squeezed between two larger shops on the ground floor of one of the many blocks of multi storey town houses in a much nicer looking part of town than where you live.
>You follow the ponies and the girl in as they enter.


>You look around, feeling really out of place.
>The shop is filled with frilly dresses, and makeup and other girly junk.
>As Patches is lead over to a chair in front of a mirror, you look around some more.
>You notice the some dresses are made to fit ponies, while others fit peoples.
>You find a chair and sit, watching Rarity fuss about Patches.
>The girl sits next to you and watches.
>”So what happened to her?”
“I… don’t know… I found her in really bad shape.”
>The girl is quiet for a while.
>”I don’t understand how some people treat the ponies so badly.”
>You shrug.
“Some people are just made out of garbage.”
>Rarity is going over what’s left of Patches’ mane with a comb and something in a spray bottle.
“But, sometimes treasures can be found in the garbage.“
>”Think you could help me learn how to fix ponies too?”
>You smile at her.
“Maybe, but can I ask why?”
>She nods and points at Rarity.
>”She was my mom’s pony when she was little. She’s getting old and I want to help her.”
>You look closer at Rarity, her faux skin might make her permanently young on the outside, but looking at her with this new bit of knowledge, you can see her movement’s aren’t as smooth as they could be.
>She also appears to favor one of her hind legs, a slight limp to it when she puts her weight on it.
>Looking at her now, you don’t know how you missed it.

“Where is your mom now?”
>The girl looks down at the floor. “She’s… not here anymore.”
>You don’t know what to say. What can you say?
>But you have to say something…
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
>She gives a sad smile. “Its okay...”
“What about your dad?”
>She shrugs. “Was never around. Never met the guy.”
>You sit in awkward silence for a while.
>Looking back over at Patches, you almost fall out of your chair.
>Somehow the scraggly remains of her mane have been combed into simple bangs and waves that roll down her neck.
>Her tail has been combed too, the mass of fluff looking more coherent.
>And her face… Somehow Rarity had not only put makeup on her, but managed to make it look good.
>A little eyeliner, a little blush, and yet it doesn’t look outlandish on her two tone face, nor does her new eye seem totally out of place anymore.
>Patches is looking back at you through the large mirror, a look of uncertainty in her eyes.
>You give her a thumbs up and a smile.
>She smiles awkwardly back.
>The smile reveals she also has lipstick on.
>Maybe this Rarity pony is going a little too far, but it’s harmless, so you allow the tortour session to continue.

“So… who's been taking care of you… since… you know?”
>The girl points at the fashion pony.
>After Rarity decides the makeup and mane is done, she leads Patches around the shop, comparing different dresses and outfits to Patches’ coat colors.
>Patches comes over to you and pokes at your pocket.
>You hand her the phone and stilis, and she goes back to talk with Rarity.
>You don’t really pay attention to their conversation.
>They’re mostly talking about colors, and what ones work or clash with her coat.
>”Oh, she uses the phone to talk?”
>You nod.
>”That’s smart. Why can’t she talk?”
“Her voice box was broken when I found her, and I haven’t been able to find a matching replacement.”
>The girl perks up. “So, like, she has a special rare voice?”
>You shrug.
“I suppose you could say that.”
>The girl nods. “Makes sense… I’ve never seen a coat color like her’s before either.”
>You know what she means, about ninety percent of the pony robots tend to use the same twenty, maybe thirty colors to choose from, but rarely do you see a pony with a unique color.
>Usually means the owner paid a lot extra for the pony from the factory.

>You turn and hold your hand out to the girl.
“My name is Anon by the way, what’s yours?”
>She smiles and shakes your hand. “Nice to meet you Anon, my name is Jenny.”
>She makes an exaggerated bow, the both of you falling into laughter.
>As the giggle fit dies down, Patches and Rarity make their way over to you, and you really have to suppress breaking down again.
>Patches is done up with a fancy mane and makeup, her eyelashes have been lengthened and curled, and she’s wearing the kind of dress you’d expect to see on a high class woman at a fancy restaurant.
>The dress is a deep burgundy, almost magenta red, with silvery white trim around the edges of the dress and shoulder straps.
>She blinks and does a slow turn, where you catch a ribbon tied around the base of her tail, colored to match the dress.
>She actually looks quite good.
>Almost like a pony version of Jessica Rabbit, if she had gone through a car crash first.
“Wow.”
>Rarity looks at you with a smug look.
>”I can fix any fashion disaster, dinding.” She shakes her head. “Ahem, darling.”

>You can only agree.
>Jenny hops up and skips circles around Patches. “Oh my gosh! You look great!”
>Patches blushes and tries to hide behind her bangs.
>That just makes her look even cuter.
“So, how do you feel?”
>Patches looks at each of you, then turns and pulls Rarity into a deep hug.
>Rarity smiles and hugs Patches back.
>After a moment, they break the hug, and Rarity fusses to fix the dress.
>Patches taps the phone.”I feel really good. And I feel pretty.”
>You can’t help but smile.
>You turn to the pony responsible.
“Thank you, Rarity. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
>She rolls her eyes and bounces her mane with a hoof toss.
>”I know darling, think nothing of it.”
>You look back and forth between Jenny and Rarity.
“Actually, I think I know exactly how I could repay you.”
>Rarity looks at you with curiosity. “How’s that, dear?”
>You give a wink towards Jenny.
“When’s the last time you’ve had a checkup?”

>You try not to think of how sketchy it might look.
>You, a run of the mill loner looking dude, leading a young girl and two ponies into the crappy side of town.
>At any rate, you all get to your apartment.
>”So what will this checkup entail?”
>Rarity looks nervous as she eyeballs your makeshift pony repair station.
“Nothing much at the moment, just going to look at your insides and see what could use some fixing.”
>She looks at you, then Patches and Jenny, who both nod and wave her towards the table.
>She sighs and climbs onto the table.
>”Alright, how shall you have me?”
“First, we’re going to remove your skin, all of it, so we can get a good look at everything.”
>She looks apprehensive, Jenny steps forward and places a hand on her shoulder.
>”Don’t worry, I’ll be right here, and I’ll make sure your mane and tail don’t get too messed up.”
>Rarity rolls a hoof. “Right, right, let us just get this over with.”

>Finding the seams to her skin was a bit trickier than Patches’ skin, but eventually you get her stripped, her skin came off in panels, rather than all in one like pajamas, as Patches’ skin does.
>Her internal architecture is completely different from Patches.
>You start by checking all of her motors, servos that drive her body’s movements.
>She has got to be an antique, some of the servos were a little stiff, dismantling them revealed heavy wear to the internal gears and drive motors.
>Cleaning out the build up of grime and adding a little oil seemed to be all they really need for now.
>You move bit by bit from one foreleg to the other, then long her spine and around her head, eventually working your way down her body.
>Patches and Jenny watch from the sidelines in fascination.
>You find the source of the limping, her right hip and femur structure show that they have been damaged at one point, and not very well repaired, resulting in the hip joint wearing out the bearings and mounts that connect the leg to the body, but allow it free movement.

> You go over to your computer and eventually find her make and model.
>You can see Jenny and Patches looking intently at the computer as well.
>”Wow Rarity, I had no idea you were so old.”
>Rarity makes a lady like huff.
>”I am not old, I am mature.”
>The child like pout on her lips would argue otherwise.
>Patches chuckles and types out a quick “Uh huh, sure you are.”
>Rarity is one of the earliest models of pony, or at least based off of the design.
>But knowing exactly what model she is makes it no problem to order a new leg and some new servos to replace the worst of the lot.
“Well, I can’t completely fix you today, but that should hold you over for now. Your new parts will be here in a few weeks, and we can do a follow up then.”
>You look over at the naked ponybot lying prone on the table.
>”Thank you darling, this is so much more than I expected.”
>Jenny looks over the damaged leg, a question on her mind.
>”Rarity, how did you hurt your leg?”
>Rarity looks away with a sadness.

>”It was a long time ago… I had known Nora for since she was barely a toddler… Her father had bought me as a present and friend for her, fresh from the factory, as well as to help care for he when her parents were busy with work, which they usually were.”
>You can see nostalgia on her face as she relives memories that must have happened half a century ago at least.
>”I had just picked her up from school, she was a teenager at the time. We were just starting to cross a street when a car came swerving down the street right towards us.”
>She lets out a shuddering breath.
>”I managed to push Nora out of the way in time, but I got hit.”
>Jenny covers her mouth as she makes a startled gasp.
>You try not to think about what flashbacks Patches saw from that hearing that.
>”Nora only got a scraped knee, while my lower half… had seen better days…”
>She runs a hoof over the damaged leg with a sad fondness.
>“Nora carried me home and did the repairs herself.”
>Jenny looks at the hind leg again.
>The metal bones had obvious hammer and tool marks, probably from being straightened out by hand.

“Who’s Nora?”
>Jenny looks up at you with a teary eyed smile.
>”She was my mom.”
>You look between Rarity and Jenny.
>Patches had taken a couple of steps back to take this all in.
“Wow, so, Nora did this?”
>You trace your hands over the repaired parts, looking closer you can see where parts have been replaced and fixed.
>For a teenage girl, she sure had some skills.
>Rarity nods. ”She grew up to be a computer engineer, nothing too fancy, she ended up working for a small computer store, but she also spent a lot of her free time repairing as much of me as she could over the years, a part here, a wire there...”
>You put Rarity’s skin back on and help her off the table.
>You look at Jenny.
“Sounds like you had a pretty cool mom.”
>Jenny nods. “Yeah, she was the best.”
>Patches looks over Rarity and Jenny before pulling them into a hug.”Thank you.”
>”Whatever for, Darling? It should be us who owes you and your wonderful owner thanks.”
>Eventually the thanks culminated in a group hug that ended with everyone plopping onto the couch to take in the long day.

>Eventually Jenny and Rarity had to go home, you and Patches waved them goodbye as they walked to the bus station.
>Now it was just you and Patches again.
>She looks up at you with a smile and tapes your phone. “That was fun, we should hang out with them again.”
>You pick her up and carry her bridal style over to your couch and flop onto it with her lying across your lap.
>She looks up at you with mirthful confusion.
>She looks over at where the phone was left on the floor for only a second before forgetting about it.
>She spasms wildly as you rub and tickle her belly.
>She feebly tries to push your hands away with her hooves, but your tourture is unending.
>Eventually you stop, the two of you lay on the couch laughing and gasping.
>She settles on your chest in a cozy cuddle.
>It’s getting late and you’re falling asleep.
>You groan as you force yourself to get up.
>You sling a confused pony over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry her into your room.
>You flop onto your bed with her, pull your blankets over you both and pass out in seconds.

>A few weeks later, and all of Rarity’s replacement parts have arrived.
>You had realized you’d forgotten to get the girl or Rarity’s phone number.
>So you and Patches had decided to just take a bus back to the shop.
>A little bell rings as you hold the door open for Patches to enter.
>”Just a moment, darling!” You hear shouted from somewhere inside.
>You walk over to the counter, Patches wanders off to look around at the dresses.
>After a moment, Rarity comes out from the back room.
>”Ah, Anon, what a lovely surprise, what can I do for you?”
“Nothing much, just wanted to let you know that your new parts have arrived in the mail, and when you feel like getting rid of that limp, come on over to my place.”
>Rarity rears up and gives you a firm hug.
>Just as she lets go and drops back down, Patches comes up to you both, wearing a fancy hat that looks silly on her ragged self.
>Rarity smiles and adjusts how the hat is sitting and steps back to look at her again.
>”Darling, you have a fine taste in hats, if I do say so myself.”
>Patches blushes and looks at the floor.

“That is a nice hat, do you want it?”
>Patches thinks for a moment, then shrugs and nods.
>You smile and reach into your pocket for your wallet.
>Rarity sees this and quickly speaks up.
>”Tut tut, Anon, you don’t need to pay for it, she can have it.”
>A big smile lights up on Patches’ face and she glomps Rarity.
>”Oh darling, please, you don’t need to thank me, I think we’re about even.”
>They break the hug and look around the shop.
“Say, where’s Jenny?”
>”She’s at school darling, now we should make haste, if we’re to go, we should go now, so I can pick up Jenny from school on time.”
>Patches nods and makes for the door.
>You chuckle, following after the mares.
“Sure thing, lets go.”

>After another quick jaunt on the bus, you find yourself back at your apartment with two mares in tow.
>You lead them inside and Rarity makes her way over and climbs onto the operating table without prompt.
>Patches puts her hat aside and stands next to the table, ready to help.
>You pull out the new leg bone and hip joint, the metal gleaming in the light.
>You set it near by and pick up your tools, and begin taking the skin off of Rarity’s hip and bum leg.
>After a moment to look over the damaged leg, you start taking it apart.
>Since you’re only replacing the bone, you have to carefully remove it from all the delicate wires and tubes.
>Rarity is focusing really strongly on the wall on the opposite side of the room.
>Patches is keeping the screws and nuts in check, making sure none roll off of the table.
>Setting the old bone aside, you fit the new one in place and begin reattaching all the cables.
>After the leg is reassembled, you take apart her hip and remove the practically destroyed joint, the bearings practically ceased up.
>All in all, disassembly and reassembly takes about an hour.
>Rarity finally looks down when she feels her skin is all in place.
>You take a step back and admire your work.
“Okay, move it around, see how it feels.”
>She nods and does so, waving her leg around before hopping off of the table and walking around the living room, pausing to march in place, then hop side to side a few times.
>”Darling! I feel like a new mare again!”
>She pulls you into a deep hug.
>”I will never be able to pay you back for this.”