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Zooma (/bootleg/)

By ReggieSomething
Created: 11th June 2021 08:25:40 AM
Modified: 16th June 2021 07:04:56 PM
bootleg Luna Anon Zooma Cute

  1. Synopsis: A series of vignettes following the (mis)adventures of Zooma, a bootleg Luna. Inspired by >>37075487
  2. >a bootleg Luna who calls herself "Zooma"; she can't run straight all that well but god dammit she's doing her best and is thrilled to be of use to someone for once and that's what matters.
  3.  
  4. 1. Fortunate Misfortune and Introductions
  5.  
  6. >Another mentally-draining day is in the books. Five o'clock. The daily reprieve from your soul-sucking monotonous excuse for a "career" is here at last.
  7. >You swipe up your backpack and sling it over one shoulder whilst powerwalking towards the door. Daring to glance to your right, a wave of relief overtakes you upon seeing that Tom's office door is closed. Thank baby Jesus your workaholic manager is oblivious to your departure today, lest he try to get you started on a new project.
  8. >Salaried employee or not, you don't get paid enough to put in fifty-to-sixty hour weeks like he does. Even if you did, you've got a life, places to go, people to see!
  9. >If only.
  10. >Be it your unfulfilling job, complete lack of a social life, or your generally mediocre existence, something has to give. Surely better times are just around the corner, right?
  11. >The old rustbucket fires up after a moment's hesitation, and you're off. You deftly maneuver and muscle for rank against fellow commuters, navigating potholes and the occasional vagrant stumbling off the medians.
  12. >At first, you think the potholes are responsible for your unusually bumpy ride. It's not until you notice the smooth blackness of freshly-paved asphalt that you put two and two together.
  13. "Oh, no, come on! Please! Don't do this to me!"
  14. >You attempt the ol' Italian tune-up. Unfortunately, the engine is hesitating and sputtering too much to even redline. Steam begins to billow out from under the hood.
  15. >The sickly-sweet scent of boiling antifreeze fills the cabin, as do angrily-shouted expletives. With the car parked, hazard lights on, and hood popped, you stomp over to the front of your vehicle-turned-smoke-machine. Your hand fumbles around blindly for the latch...there it is. Let's see what the damage-
  16. >Oh.
  17. >It's totally fucked, mate.
  18. >You have no words. Like the quintessential basic white girl, you literally can't even right now.
  19. >The hood slams shut with an apathetic thud. You really ought to call a tow truck and get your car to a mechanic, but you currently can't be bothered to arrange that.
  20. >Hell, you're so mad you lack the presence of mind to call an Uber. As such, with your backpack drooping off your shoulders you set off on foot.
  21. >You'll save time if you cut through Chinatown. Sure, it's sketchy as fuck, but it's still a safer bet than the route you'd usually drive through.
  22. >The denizens of this district give you a wide berth, probably due to your scowl and angry, quick steps. Trusting in your inner caveman, you let your instincts guide you. Eventually the bustling markets and shops give way to warehouses and generic cookie-cutter buildings of some industrial sector you didn't know existed.
  23. >It's between two nondescript grey warehouses that you see an old military surplus truck parked. A deuce-and-a-half, you think they're called. Regardless of what it's called, the thing has clearly seen better days.
  24. >The truck's faded olive green canvas bed cover flaps in the breeze, intermittently obscuring a thin man who's engaged in an animated conversation with another person you can't see. Cash is exchanged, which the thin man eagerly counts before stuffing into his shirt pocket and hustling to the truck cab.
  25. >A car engine roars to life, announcing the hasty departure of a black Mercedes-Benz coupe which was previously blocked from your curious gaze by the truck
  26. >Even from your semi-distant observation point, the tension in the air is nearly palpable. With a thick cloud of exhaust and a considerable amount of shuddering, the truck exits stage left as hastily as its counterpart.
  27. >In his haste the driver didn't notice a large wooden crate tumble off the back of the truck bed. Perhaps he didn't care. To be fair, the truck kicked up quite the cloud of dust as it sped away.
  28. >Regardless, your anger has given way to curiosity, which compels you to investigate.
  29. >Closer inspection of the crate reveals that the impact from the fall has jarred its lid slightly out of square. It bears no markings or labels to suggest what it contains. You're about to peek through the crack in the lid when a loud rustling from within the box makes you stumble backwards in surprise.
  30. >You totally didn't scream like a bitch because you're a big boy.
  31. >"Ugh... hello? Is anyone out there?" A dazed feminine voice calls from within the crate.
  32. "Oh my God! Hold- just... hang on! I'll get you out of there!"
  33. >What the hell is a girl doing in there? Did your ass just stumble upon a human trafficking operation?
  34. >Despite the damage sustained from the fall, the crate's lid is still firmly in place. In a panicked rush you search your surroundings, praying for a proper crowbar to descend from the heavens. Your prayers go unanswered, and the movement within the crate becomes more frenzied.
  35. >Thump. Thump. Thump.
  36. >Each subsequent thump jolts the lid a little bit higher, distracting you from your panicked searching. You approach the bouncing wooden box, eyes wide, mouth agape.
  37. >Thump.
  38. >Sounds of wood splitting join the percussive beats, as do intense grunts from inside the box.
  39. >The girl gives a final roar of exertion and the lid explodes towards the sky. Olive green forelegs follow, then a head.
  40. >"HUZZAH!!!"
  41. "Aaaaah!"
  42. >"EEEP!"
  43. >The creature ducks back inside the box. As you tiptoe towards it, a green horn cautiously rises above the rim.
  44. >Oh, it's one of those companion ponies inspired from that show. You'd never seen one up close before. They're a lot bigger in person, or at least this one is.
  45. "Uh, sorry to scare you," you tell the large sky-blue eyes that peer at you with trepidation. "Need help getting outta there?"
  46. >She dips below the box rim again. You sigh, then gasp as the mare leaps clear out of her wooden prison. Massive wings extend to slow her fall into a graceful landing before you.
  47. >"Hello there! Who are you?" the mare asks.
  48. "Uh... hi. I'm Anonymous. Who are you supposed to be?"
  49. >"Luna," she responds, "but I didn't turn out right."
  50. "Didn't 'turn out right'?"
  51. >"Yeah," the mare answers with a sigh. She kicks a pebble with her hoof. "My sisters and I, they said we're all de- *sniff* def-"
  52. >Her eyes shimmer, then the dam breaks.
  53. >"They called us 'defective'!" she wails. Without a second thought, this strange mare has draped her forelegs over your shoulders and is sobbing into your neck.
  54. >Unsure of what else to do, you run your hand through her silver-streaked blue mane, abeit awkwardly.
  55. >"They- they s-s-said nobody would want us!" she continues to sob. Her body heaves and shudders as she tries to regain her composure. "I tried to show them that I was still a good pony, that I could still be a good helper! We all did!"
  56. "A good helper?" is all you can think to ask.
  57. >The mare wipes her eyes and returns to all four hooves. "We were created to assist our future owners at home or at work, as well as be their friends." she explains after a few deep breaths.
  58. >Fascinating. These ponies must cost a fortune.
  59. "And your sisters? Where are they?"
  60. >"I don't know. I remember being told that we were going to work at a factory," she begins. "We were so excited... finally, somebody wanted us! They gave us a special drink to celebrate, and, well, I don't remember much after that. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know, I wake up inside a box after being slammed around. "
  61. >You furrow your brow.
  62. "What... what *kind* of factory are you and your sisters supposed to work at?"
  63. >"A glue factory!" the mare answers with a cheerful voice. "It's going to be wonderful! At last, we'll have a purpose! We'll finally be able to do what we were made to do- help others!"
  64. >Oh god.
  65. >"Anonymous? What's wrong? You got pale all of a sudden."
  66. "I... I need to sit down for a minute," you reply before collapsing to your knees.
  67. >The pony moseys next to you and sits on her haunches. "Mister Anonymous?"
  68. "Please, just call me 'Anon'."
  69. >She smiles at that.
  70. >"Oh, okay. Anon?"
  71. "Yeah?"
  72. >"Do you think you could help me find this glue factory? I would very much like to have this job, not to mention be reunited with my sisters."
  73. "Luna, I-"
  74. >"Zooma," she interrupts.
  75. "Huh?"
  76. >"Us 'defects'," she spits the word out with a heavy dose of venom, "we weren't worthy to bear the names our show counterparts. So we named each other."
  77. >You're speechless. This poor creature.
  78. >She watches you closely, this "Zooma". She's certainly built like her show character. Sure the coat color is wrong, and her cutie marks are backwards, but she's still a lovely creature. And she sounds like the real Luna, so she's got that going for her too.
  79. "Zooma," you finally say.
  80. >"Yes?"
  81. "I'm afraid I can't take you to this glue factory."
  82. >Her face goes from hopeful to crestfallen in an instant.
  83. >"But... my job. My family, my chance to make a real friend..." Her eyes begin to well up once more.
  84. >You hold up a finger to silence her. This is crazy, this spontaneous idea. Here goes nothing.
  85. "I want be your friend." You say, rising to your feet.
  86. >Zooma gasps, covering her mouth with a hoof.
  87. >"You... want to be friends... with a reject like me." She says incredulously, before looking up to you. "Do you really mean that?"
  88. "Of course I do! I think you're lovely." you reply. "Your sisters won't be there, but my home can be your home, if you want it to be. You can even help out around the house if you wa-"
  89. >Zooma lets out a squeal of delight, and before you know it, you're on your back. Strong forelegs squeeze your torso for all they're worth.
  90. >"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"
  91. >Zooma peppers your face with kisses between chanting her frantic thank yous. You can't help but chuckle while you hug her back.
  92. >After a indulging in a few moments of affection with your newfound friend, Zooma releases you from her iron grip and helps you back up. She dusts off your back with a an olive green wing.
  93. "I guess we should head home."
  94. >"Home." Zooma repeats in disbelief. "I have a real home now."
  95. "You sure do! C'mon, let's hurry. It's getting late, and I don't know about you, but I'm famished."
  96. >Zooma's face lights up. "Oh! My first chance to help out! Get on my back, Anon. It'll be faster this way!"
  97. >You don't mean to cock your eyebrow at the mare, but you just can't help it.
  98. >"Trust me. I'm really strong. And my sisters didn't name me 'Zooma' for nothing!"
  99. "Okay..." is your hesitant reply as you swing a leg over her back.
  100. >It takes a moment to figure out how to position your legs as not to hurt Zooma's wings. Your feet now hover a scant few inches above the ground. By the time you describe the route home, she's prancing in place, apparently not bothered at all by your weight.
  101. >"Are you ready?" she asks you, unable to contain her excitement.
  102. "Yup. Just take it eeeeEEEEASY!!!"
  103. >Squeezing Zooma's barrel with your knees, you desperately try to remain seated and upright on the pony's back as she weaves to and fro at a full gallop.
  104. "Zooma!"
  105. >"Yes, friend?"
  106. "Can you at least run in a straight line!?"
  107. >"Not really!" she giggles.
  108. >Even though your hold around Zooma's barrel is tenuous at best, a shit-eating grin is creeping across your face.
  109. >Sure, your life has been in a rut, your job sucks and your piece of shit car died.
  110. >As you weave across streets, sidewalks, and lawns, you realize none of that matters anymore.
  111. >"I've got a friend!" Zooma shouts to curious bystanders with tears of joy running down her face. "I'm going home!"
  112.  
  113.  
  114. 2. Ulterior Motives
  115.  
  116. "Alright, alright. We've emptied the produce department of spinach and mixed greens. What else?"
  117. >"Stop it, you." Zooma replies with an exaggerated eye roll.
  118. "For real, though. I'm about to buy enough roughage to clean out a horse. Or a pony."
  119. >That earns you an indignant snort and a pout.
  120. "Fine! It's fine," you say. "What's next?"
  121. >Zooma scans her list. "Did you get more rosemary and thyme?"
  122. "Yup."
  123. >Sky-blue eyes scan the cart, then return to the list. "Hmm... just carrots and parsnips, then we should be done here."
  124. "Parsnips?"
  125. >"Yes. Parsnips. There's a new recipe I want to try that calls for them."
  126. >She's been buying more and more healthy food each week. What gives?
  127. >It's amazing how quickly things can change for better or for worse. Your life has been nearly unrecognizable since you rode Zooma home exactly one month ago. Adapting to living with a roommate for the first time in years came easily enough, and Zooma had taken to her new home like a fish to water.
  128. >Your house had never been cleaner. Well, it wasn't your house anymore, it was Zooma's; you merely lived there and paid the bills.
  129. >Zooma, as you quickly came to learn, was a stickler for cleanliness and order. She refused to sleep that first night until your house's main level was "presentable". It's not that you were a slob, but you were a bachelor that never entertained guests. Your new roommate had thrown herself at her self-appointed tasks, leading to you returning from work to an immaculate house the second evening into her residency.
  130. >That wasn't the only surprising revelation. Zooma could read, write, use a computer, and had a better grip on living as a responsible adult than most people your age. Not only that, the girl LOVED to cook.
  131. "How do you know all this stuff?" You had asked her incredulously after catching her writing a grocery list for the first time.
  132. >"I dunno," she replied with a shrug of her wings, "we just woke up knowing everything we'd need to be helpful."
  133. >Green feathers waved before your face, bringing you back to the present.
  134. "Huh?"
  135. >"I asked if you wanted to indulge in a steak. They're on sale this weekend!"
  136. >You've barely begun to smile, but Zooma knows she has your blessing. She trots to the man watching from behind the butcher's counter. Companion ponies aren't common, but they're not so rare that people openly gawk at you in public.
  137. >"Hello there, Miss...?" the butcher asks as Zooma approaches.
  138. >She stops short of the counter and stands tall, ears pointing forward. "Zooma," your pony answers with solid eye contact and confidence you wish you possessed.
  139. >It's all you can do to not stare as Zooma inspects the steaks behind the curved glass. She goes back and forth with the man, even making him chuckle in the process of finding the perfect cut. With her decision made, the butcher wraps up a thick ribeye in brown waxed paper. He says something that you don't catch, but it makes your pony laugh.
  140. >Zooma trots back to you in her typical meandering fashion, head held high, a paper-wrapped treasure tucked under her wing. She extends said wing to deposit the package into your hands.
  141. "That's quite the steak you picked out."
  142. >"Only the best for my Anonymous." she answers with a grin and a wink.
  143. >She's up to something. You just know it.
  144.  
  145. ...
  146.  
  147. 3. A Quickie Before Dinner
  148.  
  149. >It was getting harder to control your breathing. Zooma was faring better than you, but sweat foam had begun to drip from her olive coat.
  150. >How long had you two been going at it?
  151. "Zooma..." you gasped, "I... I'm not gonna last much longer."
  152. >The mare bounced off you with increased frequency and intensity. Her slick coat slapped your bare skin in time with her labored breathing.
  153. >"Almost *gasp* there, Anon! *gasp* Stay with me a bit longer!"
  154. >Before today, you would've thought you had decent stamina, despite being "out of the game" for a while. Oh, how mistaken you were- this green mare was fixing to ride you into the ground.
  155. >Sensing the end is near, you grunt Zooma's name as your body begins to tense up.
  156. >"So close!" she replies. "Come on, Anon! Finish with me!"
  157. >Her impassioned words of encouragement seem to give you a second wind, allowing you to match her tempo. However, as Axl Rose once sang, "Nothing lasts forever." This is it. The mare is gonna make you blow.
  158. "Zooma!" you manage to choke out. "I'm about to puke!"
  159. >Your pony immediately decelerates from a canter to a walk, and not a moment too soon. Had she not, the strap linking her harness to your waist would've pulled you face-first into the dirt.
  160. >The strap? Her idea. As she has trouble moving in a straight line at any pace faster than a walk, Zooma suggested that she be tied to you to prevent her from deviating off the path. It worked well, but it also led to her bumping into you quite often as you ran. Not that you really minded.
  161. >Her wing rubs your back as you cough and hack. It was touch-and-go for a short while, but you didn't hurl, thankfully.
  162. >"How are you feeling, friend?" she asks you with a content smile.
  163. >Lacing your fingers together behind your head, you stand and continue to suck air. Your green-and-blue running partner shakes out her legs individually.
  164. "Been better, been worse." is your eventual reply.
  165. >"That was a nice little quickie before dinner, wouldn't you say?"
  166. >You choke on air.
  167. "Please don't call it that." you sputter between coughs.
  168. >Her face is one of innocent confusion. "What? It was a quick exercise session; only fifteen minutes."
  169. >Your brain is redlining trying to find the best way to explain her misuse of the offending term. Glancing to the right, you catch a smirk on Zooma's face, prompting you to facepalm. Her giggles are contagious.
  170. "Very funny."
  171. >"You're too easy sometimes."
  172. "Heh."
  173. >Zooma hums and smiles to herself as you remove her harness. Your walk back to the car is so slow it would be more appropriately considered a mosey.
  174. "You doing alright?"
  175. >She hums.
  176. "I'm not moving so fast that you'd need your harness again?"
  177. >"Nuh-uh." is all she says before leaning against you. "Besides, I've got you to keep me on track."
  178. >Heat rises to your cheeks.
  179. "Likewise."
  180. >C'mon, Anon. This mare is the best thing that ever happened to you. Do better.
  181. "I don't know how I went as long as I did without you." is your tentative follow-up. "All I know is I can't imagine life without you, Zooma."
  182. >That's a step in the right direction. Zooma seems to think so, if her read rubbing all over your sweaty torso is anything to judge by.
  183. >The ride home is quiet. Your shower was nice.
  184. >Zooma sets off to the kitchen following her shower, a towel still wrapped around her head.
  185. "Hey."
  186. >She stops and tilts her head.
  187. "C'mere a minute."
  188. >"What's up?"
  189. "You don't always have to be so 'switched on'. It's okay to relax, you know. I'm in no rush to eat dinner."
  190. >Zooma taps her hoof at the floor and sighs, avoiding your gaze. "I know..."
  191. "But?"
  192. >"But I want to earn my keep! I was literally made to serve, Anonymous, to make people happy!"
  193. "You do more than enough here. I want you to ease up a bit on the housework front, okay?"
  194. >"I just want to be useful-"
  195. >A finger pressed upon her lips silences the mare.
  196. "You make me happy by just being here." You state while cupping her cheek with your palm.
  197. >A small, barely-audible "Aww" escapes your pony's mouth. She jumps onto the couch and settles in your lap before hugging you.
  198. >The two of you lose track of time, content to simply hold each other. Zooma's hot breaths tickle the hairs on the back of your neck, but its soothing nonetheless.
  199. >Her stomach growls, loud. She pulls away from you, embarrassment etched on her face. Don't laugh...
  200. >Aaaand you lost. "Staaaahhhp," she whines as he bats your shoulder with a hoof.
  201. >Your stomach unleashes a rumble that was probably detected by the USGS in Golden. Zooma flops off your lap and guffaws.
  202. >"I'll get started on dinner," she says, ambling off the couch. "You've earned that steak tonight."
  203. "Nah, don't bother. Let's order a pizza and watch movies tonight."
  204. >"Okay!" Zooma's excited smile rapidly morphs to a suspicious squint. "I'll allow this 'cheat meal', but don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the diet and exercise regimen, Mister. You take good care of me, but somepony's got to ensure you're taking good care of yourself too."
  205. "Puh-leeeze," you huff, rolling your eyes. "I just need to drop like ten pounds and I'll be good."
  206. >"Yeah, no. Try like twenty-five, Pop'n'fresh."
  207. >This mare. This mare right here. She doesn't pull any punches.
  208. >"Don't worry, Anon. We'll get you /fit/ in no time!"
  209. "Christ, don't tell me you've been visiting that board-"
  210. >Zooma smirks at you, then flexes a wing. "You mirin', brah?"
  211. >Facepalm.
  212. >"Anon."
  213. >...
  214. >"Hey Anonymous."
  215. >...
  216. >"An-oooonnnnn~"
  217. "What."
  218. >"YOU HAVE TO LIVE IT!"
  219. >Zooma continues to cackle in the background while you order your "cheat meal".
  220.  
  221. ...

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