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=Fracture 5=
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>Dust crunches underneath your boots as you walk through the desert.
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>Walking had been your preferred mode of travel as of late, it was difficult to get passage on trains when you were the only human around and with your record.
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>Fortunately, Appleoosa was the right combination of a town in the middle of nowhere and hospitable enough that it let you treat it as a hub to the rest of the Mild West.
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>Among other factors.
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>As you cross the town border, you take in your surroundings.
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>The smell of hey and dirt.
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>The low din of the townsfolk going about their day.
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>Creaking wood as carriages rolled past you towards the edge of town.
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>The buildings were taller than most, but not too high.
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>+Ponies cannot jump that high, should the need to escape become apparent, the rooftops are safe.+
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>:What about pegusi?:
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>+Move fast to avoid a tail.+
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>You weaved your way through the townsfolk as you thought.
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>Now where was that shop...
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>+"Strong Defense". East end of town. Across from the open air market.+
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>You grimace.
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>Sometimes you annoyed yourself.
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>More wagons rode down the street towards the edge of town, the same direction as the first.
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>+What are they all meeting for...?+
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>:You're sure it's a meeting?:
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>+It is the most likely scenario.+
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>*Keep moving, these sheep are looking.*
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>You stare around at the ponies walking through the street. Sure enough, a lot were staring at the bipedal ape man dressed in leather armor who seemed to be having three different conversations to himself.
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>You're sure you snarl at them as you walk further down the road, a storefront with a shield and a sword on the sign out front.
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>You step up to the counter and drop your bag of bits onto it.
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>The clerk behind it stares at both you and the bag for a good few seconds each before meeting your gaze with wide eyes.
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>"No questions asked, got it." he says.
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>You smirk, at least there were some people who knew the proper way to conduct trade.
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>You walk along the rack of weapons and mull the choices over.
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>Hmmm...
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>*Get me something that I can rend and tear with.*
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>:Ooooohh~. Throwing darts~.:
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>+We DO need more ranged offensive weaponry.+
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>You listen to all of your advice as you pick and choose.
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>*A pair of tomahawks.*
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>+Bandoliers and throwing knives.+
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>:Flash bombs!:
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>And a few smoke bombs for getaways.
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>The clerk eyes you as you pick out what you wanted.
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>"Jeeze pal, you planning to take on the army with this stuff?"
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>:Didn't he say no questions?:
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>*Should reach over there an-*
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"Just some work." you say.
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>Have to keep a lid on it...
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>"One o' them mercenaries, eh?"
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"You...could say that."
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>:REACH OVER THERE AND GUT HIM!:
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>You rub a finger on your temple.
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>Justaclerkjustaclerknotlikethelastone.
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>"Uh...you okay there, buddy?"
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"Y-yeah, just the heat getting to me..."
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>The clerk rings up your purchase and slides the bits into the register.
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>"If the heat's gettin' to ya, head on over to the local watering hole. That'll bring you right back up..."
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>You quiet the angry tornado in your head and walk out with your things.
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"Yeah, might check that out..."
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>You had a friend there anyway.
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- 61.
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>You push through the doors of the bar and let out a contented sigh.
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>This place was nice...even Red liked it.
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>You walk around or past all the other ponies in the bar as they drank, played cards and revel.
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>You pound twice on the bar.
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"Pohito."
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>The bartender makes a slightly odd face as he trots away.
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>A golden stallion next to you chuckles once. "Only one guy I know round these parts who drinks Pohitios."
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>You turn to face him.
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"I like the minty taste."
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>He tilts up his hat. "And here I thought apples were your thing."
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>You roll your eyes and sip your totally not-stereotypical drink.
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"Hello, Braeburn."
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>Braeburn tosses off his hat and throws back his own drink. "So why'd you blow into town this time, Anon?"
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"Can't I just stop by when I'm in the neighborhood?"
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>"When ya got those this time?" he asks pointing towards your head.
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>You wince and run a finger over the scars leading up to your hairline.
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"Cougar got me in the hills..."
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>Braeburn shakes his head. "Why ya gotta go and be so reckless, ya big idiot?"
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>:It's cute that he worries:
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>+He should understand that we're fine+
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>:Aw, he's just worried about his squeeze:
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>*We are not his "squeeze"*
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>*He is ours*
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>You feign another pass at your scars as the fire in your veins lights.
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>Braeburn seems to not be taking it.
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>"You alright, pard?"
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>You try to stem the tide of Red.
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"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine...you wanna get outta here?"
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>Braeburn gets his own red going on his face.
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>You find your hand going to the back of his neck on its own.
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>"C-c'mon, Anon...everyone's lookin'..."
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>You let your vision grow redder as you lean into his ear.
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"What do I care~?"
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>Braeburn shudders and slams his hoof on the table.
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>"Tab!"
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>The sun rise over the horizon of the Appleoosan desert.
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>You lift your hand to shield your eyes from the harsh rays of the star from your face as you eat your eggs.
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>:At least Brae fixed his chair:
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>We spend enough time here, he ought to have...
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>Speaking of the devil, the golden stallion trots out of the room behind you with a appeased smile on his face.
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>"Ah tell ya, pard. You n' yours are one of two things that can tucker me out like this."
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>You sip your coffee. [spoiler][/spoiler]"The other being?"
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>"Tryin' ta out-buck cousin AJ."
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>You smirk.
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"Comparing me to a tree-kicker? Now I'm all mad."
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>"And we can't have that none, can we?"
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>Braeburn hops up to a chair across the table from you.
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>"Can't end up like them dragons, huh?"
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>Your mind goes blood red and you grip the edges of your hair at mention of the dragons.
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"DON'T. TALK. ABOUT. THEM."
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>Braeburn winces at your outburst and shies away a bit.
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>"N-now...calm down...no need to be gettin' all ornery..."
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>Your fingers dig into the table as you glare daggers at the golden pony across from you.
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>*HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK ABOU-*
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>You take a deep breath and calm the raging inferno in you enough to regain yourself.
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"Brae...you know you can't talk about that..."
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>He shuffles in his seat a bit. "Sorry, Anon...know ya have got some bad memories there..."
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>You remember back to that time...all the blood and anger and heat...the foremost thing that comes to your mind is holding a young dragon down as you tore out his throat with your hand.
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"Some good ones too..."
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>Braeburn starts to poke at his own eggs with his fork.
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>"Still don't understand all that stuff with your head..."
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>You sigh.
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"Let me explain it..."
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>You put your fork down and run your hands through your hair.
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>You do you explain this? It was always the hardest part...
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"Brae...you know how you have that voice in your head? The one who tells you to do things?"
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>Braeburn nods his head.
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"Well...I have three."
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>His eyes widen as he gulps down his food.
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>"Three...? Do they all say the same stuff?"
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>You slowly shake your head.
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"They all sound different and say different stuff...it's like-"
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>You grab you knife and fiddle with it.
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"It's like they're all three different people, but me too, you know?"
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>Braeburn sits across from you in rapt attention.
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"I've started calling them things...you know, when I talk to them."
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"There's Blue, I think he's all my time in the guard or my logical thinking, or whatever. He's smart and gotten me out of a lot of problems, but he's a bit of a pill."
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>:HA!:
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>+Hmph+
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"Green" as I call him seems to be some sort of reaction to what happened...with the dragons and Mac..."
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:Or those four months we spent alone in that cave!:
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>"An what's he like?" Brae asks.
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"He's..."
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>Green proceeds to mark farty noises in your minds ear.
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"Unique."
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>Braeburn sets down his fork. "And...the last one?"
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>You sigh again as the bloody tint edges its way back into your brain.
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"R-red...he was the first...all that anger at what happened that's still getting out in whatever way it can..."
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>"...Like?"
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"Violence, sex, destruction, you..."
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>Braeburn is taken aback at that. "Me...? S'that what this is? Just a way to appease the devil in your head?"
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>You sigh and lean back.
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"I don't know, Brae...I'm not thinking that far ahead..."
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>Braeburn is silent for a bit, uncomfortably so.
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>*Weak*
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>You sigh. [spoiler][/spoiler] "I'll just go..."
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>You climb out of your chair and gather your shirt and your things. He can't handle all this? Fine, his problem.
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>As you grab your things, you blow past the quaking cowboy and walk out the door.
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>You walk West away from the sun towards the edge of town, eager to get away from the accusatory words Braeburn or anyone else had for you.
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>You were how you were, anyone who couldn't handle that would just have to...leave.
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>Not like you could.
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>You reach the edge of town and spot a circle of wagons with about a dozen ponies clustered in the center.
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>As you pass by, you hear some of what they're talking about.
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>"Heading north-"
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>"-big haul-"
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>"-big risk-"
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>"-more bits than you can imagine-"
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>You stood still next to the wagon circle as you heard them out.
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>*Sounds like a good opportunity for violence.*
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>You turn towards the wagon circle draw closer.
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>Need to do SOMETHING, gotta get away.
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>A pony hops up on a box and flares his wings
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>"Alright! Y'all know the job and what the reward is, now who here wants a piece of that action?"
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"I do." you boom.
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>The ponies all turn to look back at the stranger who barged into their circle.
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>"Now who in the hay are you!?" one shouts.
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"Nobody important, but I want in."
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>The lead speaker cocks an eyebrow. "You know what this job entails, Stranger?"
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"Doesn't matter."
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>You and he stare each other down for a few moments.
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>"...Alright, that's one. Who else?"
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>Several of the other ponies follow your example and raise their hooves.
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>*Good...more meat.*
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>:This job'll be fun!:
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>+We'll need some things, first.+
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