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       #Post#: 3959--------------------------------------------------
       Stormy Night
       By: Haywire Date: October 30, 2014, 9:05 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       (because funsies)
       The rain poured heavily outside, each of the individual rain
       drops landing with an almost audible thud against the rather
       leaky roof of the tavern the storm was trying to tear down.
       Swelled bullets of water composing the ammunition of the angry
       clouds above pelted the creaky and now soggy wood with plenty
       managing to find chinks in the shoddy shelter riding off of the
       spare bits of its irritated patrons, slipping in, down, around
       and through the planks of its outer layer and past the thin
       insulation barely keeping out the cold and howling wind. Once
       inside they collected together and dripped down with zero
       discrimination as to what may fall victim to them, many pails
       and mugs having been scattered about the interior in often
       awkward or inconvenient spots - the most notable, and silly,
       example being one mug balancing on an older and gruffer stallion
       who simply refused to abandon his favorite chair in this time of
       excessive downpour of wetness plaguing the area - to try and
       contain the slippery threat as well as they could.
       Despite best efforts, not much could be done to improve the
       moods of the melting pot of ponies that was those taking refuge
       within, many of whom being regulars who were regularly much more
       cheerful than they were at the moment but having had their moods
       harshly kidney punched by the current circumstances. Normally
       chatting up storms and laughing heartily at one another's jokes,
       most were keeping to themselves that night by skulking in their
       own corners of the room, those who were common visitors to the
       establishment flashing brief but frequent glares in the
       direction of the irregulars who unreasonably felt were intruding
       on their supposed territory. Meanwhile the opposite side of this
       silent tension gave unamused and annoyed expressions back each
       time they felt the daggers as they felt quite out of place, many
       of whom harboring a strong dislike of the equally strong drink
       served there which only have made them less popular if they made
       such information publicly known. To sum it up, nopony was having
       a good time, and the wait for the rain to ease up was only
       growing more and more uncomfortable for everypony with each drip
       dropping second.
       However, this didn't necessarily mean that any of them were bad
       ponies. On the contrary, many were quite friendly and happy when
       caught in warmer times and dryer coats, but that night just made
       it hard for anypony to put on a smile and actually mean it. The
       hour was late, most were tired, cold and soaked, and this storm
       had come quite literally out of nowhere with no mention of it
       being made by the town's weather team. The only reason the
       tavern was even still open was as a friendly gesture made by the
       owners towards anypony unlucky enough to have been outside when
       the torrent had begun to nearly flood the streets, and everpony
       was simply tired, wanted to go home and were beginning to take
       out their frustration over the whole ordeal on each other.
       If only the rain would lighten up just a little bit... just
       enough so as to allow everypony to get back home without being
       lost in the thick water laden winds that engulfed anypony who
       tried... Severe colds were ashooin for those who attempted to
       head out into such conditions, and it didn't help that this
       particular tavern was a bit further out from the center of town
       than the rest - mostly playing host to local farmers and
       incoming travelers and relying on their business more than the
       candy flavored drink loving inner town ponies, a few of which
       still inspecting the bar from a distance and with disapproval as
       they prayed for a break in the storm to grant them freedom -
       this making the walk home even less simple as a road needed to
       be followed wherever you were going. But even the street signs
       were hard to notice and read right then, as quick glances cast
       from behind a protective hoof covering ones face from the
       onslaught outside made what few details they could gather vague
       and blurry.
       One stallion, whom had attempted a daring, and very vocal,
       escape from the tavern and into the night earlier in the
       evening, proved how tricky things really were. Around ten
       minutes after his dramatic departure he came slinking back
       inside, dripping wet and only giving a quick explanation of
       having gotten turned around before going back to where he'd been
       sitting previously, albeit with a much more soaked, shivery and
       grumpy frown than before. The chuckles were short lived, many
       wondering if they'd end up actually having to spend the night in
       the tavern with how relentless the storm was being, this giving
       way to many a disappointed and sad sighs.
       The front door creaked open, earning only a small amount of
       interest from those so desperately bored as to bother turning
       their heads enough to see who had entered and been doomed to
       their fate.
       Standing in the entryway, his entire body not surprisingly
       drenched in rainwater, stood a small green pony, height first
       suggesting a young mare but further inspection revealing a
       stallion's features beneath the short brown mane that stuck to
       his face. However... there was something up with his eyes... and
       it wasn't clear what until after he'd shaken himself dry like a
       dog fresh out of a bath, nopony caring about the mess of course
       since at this point a large puddle had formed in front of the
       door for everypony to splash through when coming and daring to
       attempt going anyway.
       Goggles, tinged orange and being made with an odd choice of four
       straps, clung to the little stallion's face and protected his
       eyes, locks of the pony's wet hair hanging freely over them and
       bouncing, along with his saddle bags, with his step as he
       trotted forward and further inside the tavern. He wore something
       most of the other patrons had forgotten existed at this point,
       and it made them feel quite surprised to witness it again as he
       showed it to everypony he saw with no feeling of awkward or
       shyness.
       A grin. Bright, broad and friendly. It was almost enough to make
       the ponies who witnessed it do a double take. What insane pony
       could be happy during a time like this? Especially one that had
       been outside right when the rainfall was at its heaviest and the
       wind its most chilling? Did the storm get so difficult to
       navigate that it had somehow managed to turn around a pony from
       some happier place and bring them here? This was silly and hard
       to believe, but so was the grin that sure enough existed and
       remained plastered on the stallion's face as he made his way all
       the way up to the bar counter where a couple of mares hadn't
       bothered to move from since happy hour.
       Claiming an empty stool for himself, the new pony hopped up with
       a life that contrasted the depressing mood around him, allowing
       the stool to spin a couple times with him on it before clopping
       his front hooves down on the counter top and standing up a bit
       in his seat and not bothering to remove the saddle bags he
       carried from his back.
       "Hi! I'm Haywire! Whats your name?" said the little stallion,
       full of energy and with a tone that made him sound as if he was
       greeting a good friend, the noise jolting the half asleep
       bartender sitting on the other side of the counter back to his
       senses before he could begin drooling on himself.
       Blinking, the grey coated and heavy set bartender tried to
       remember where he was, a hoof lifting up his hat - which he'd
       put on when he was supposed to originally leave and hadn't
       bothered to put back on the rack since - while the other
       attempted to straighten out his normally slicked back but
       currently frazzled black mane with little success before moving
       on to scratch at his mutton chop beard instead. When he decided
       to acknowledge the new pony at the bar he literally squinted -
       nearly flinched in fact -when faced with his oh so very cheery
       smile, responding with only a grumpy grunt at the hello before
       remembering that he was still supposed to at least be trying to
       help out the ponies stuck here, even if that meant just hoofing
       over the lighter drinks so as to keep them more occupied than
       buzzed.
       "Uh..." he began to reply, taking in the new pony's size and
       wondering if he should ask for some form of ID before giving him
       anything, "... Hello, Haywire... Most just call me Taps... What
       do you w-er-I mean..."
       A clearing of his throat after the slip up, Taps trying to
       straighten himself up despite his lack of an actual buck, "What
       can I get for you? Apploosa Special? Hoofprint Brandy?" He
       paused to allow the newcomer time to chime in with any
       particular preference only to once again catch himself on
       another mistake.
       "Or, sorry, I forgot, we're actually keeping the stronger stuff
       locke-"
       "Do you guys have any apple juice?" chimed Hay before Taps could
       finish, his rather innocent request being spoken with a tone of
       excitement despite how tame and simple it was, "Or any kind of
       juice really? I've been running around all day and night and I'm
       getting a little tired of rain water. What about... hmm..." a
       green hoof tapped a grin chin thoughtfully as goggled eyes, blue
       in actual color as Taps could make out from this distance,
       surveyed the bottles on display. His apparent craving for fruit
       juice gave reason to believe that he may have actually been more
       interested in their shapes and colors than their actual contents
       though.
       "Oh! What about... uh... um... What's it called... That drink
       mix? I can't remember its name, but back in town everypony
       seemed to have some of it tucked away in a pocket or saddle bag.
       Was orange, had a picture of an... archer guy, I think? Yeah! He
       was shooting a bunch of oranges with his bow on the package. I
       remember I had a glass and, boy, was i glad I did! Had a little
       bit of a chalky after taste, but the punch of flavor at the
       beginning was so strong I nearly got knocked over!"
       "It's called Orion's Instant Orange!" One of the mares at the
       bar half scolded in an attempt to shush the stallion up, his
       chipper attitude beginning to give her a headache. Taps, while
       in agreement with the mare over her desire for silence, tried to
       be more helpful.
       "No, we don't serve that here, but we do have apple juice,"
       indeed, they kept it around the tavern as a way to play a prank
       on any under aged ponies that tried to fool them into letting
       them have something real. All it took was some added salt, and
       it was always a fun time to watch them pretend to like it just
       to look cool in front of their friends.
       "I'll get you a glass, just... sit there quietly. Please. Sir.
       Thank you," Taps almost pleaded, tossing his gaze towards the
       clock that was far more than half past closing time as he turned
       around to fetch the little stallion his little drink.
       Nodding to show he'd try, Haywire sat back down on his stool.
       This lasted for approximately five seconds before he started to
       get squirmy in his seat, this restlessness first manifesting in
       the form of him leaning from side to side and gradually
       escalating until he was almost spinning in his seat, the lack of
       bucks being given by the sole employee on duty equating to a
       level of slow service that was almost too much for the green
       pony to tolerate. Thankfully though, for everypony, his
       expression quickly changed from bored staring at the bottles to
       forming a small "o" with his mouth and having his eyelids pop
       open as he remembered something that was evidently important to
       him, his front hooves abandoning the impromptu tapping session
       they had been on the verge of taking off into and instead
       reaching for the saddle bags strapped to his body, them making
       quick work of its buckle and un-clipping the flap keeping the
       right most one closed and digging into its contents.
       Taps, first deaf to the new sound of the jostling unknown
       bric-a-brac behind him as he had been more focused on staring at
       the bottle of apple juice in his hoof with a dead stare born
       from exhaustion, eventually had his attention torn away and back
       to Haywire when he heard something heavy be plopped down onto
       his counter top. It was... uh... blurry. Most things were under
       the shade of fatigue. He rubbed at his eyes to try and clear
       things up, but even still he could only make out the vague shape
       of a... bird... toy? His free hoof reached for a clean mug
       through absentminded muscle memory as he turned around to better
       inspect whatever this green fellow had produced from his saddle
       bags.
       "We don't allow toys in here," Taps alerted the smaller pony as
       he set down the mug, popped open the bottle of apple juice and
       transferred the drink from one container to the other.
       "Oh, don't worry, he's not a toy," Hay assured, using a rag
       taken from his bags to dry off what now appeared to be a
       statuette made out of metals.
       It did indeed look like a bird though, a small blue jay in fact
       as the bartender realized, Old Lady Whistle and her love of
       going on and on about birds evidently having implanted this
       random tidbit of information firmly into his mind without him
       realizing. The little statue was holding a pose where its head
       was shyly tucked under one of its wings as though trying to hide
       itself from those around it. Or maybe it was supposed to be
       sleeping, Taps wasn't sure nor did he care at the moment as
       something was starting to catch his attention about the metal
       bird.
       It was whirring, and possibly clicking as well, the sound of
       moving parts becoming increasingly audible from within the
       statuette as Hay continued to dry it off.
       'Not a toy my flank!'  was the thought that jumped into Taps'
       head. What else could it be? Something clicking like that could
       only be one of those little wind up gizmos that the kids enjoyed
       whenever they were off playing hookey during school hours! Maybe
       it was just the night and all of its trials agitating the
       exhausted bartender, but the fact that he'd flat out informed
       this Haywire pony of how no children's toys were allowed inside
       the tavern and had then been lied right to his face was kind of
       pushing him over the edge.
       "Sir," Taps began, an annoyed growl heard just beneath his tone,
       "This isn't a playground, and I just told you that we don't
       allow toys in here. Put it away."
       "But I don't have any toys," Haywire replied with an innocent
       blink of his goggled eyes, a small smile seeming permanently
       glues to his face as he continued to dry the bird toy statuette
       thing. Either he was a good liar looking to purposefully annoy
       the bartender or Haywire legitimately wasn't realizing that he
       was lying as Tap's now knew he was. His response earned a flat
       look and most generous pause meant to allow him a chance to
       correct himself, a chance that wasn't taken as the smaller pony
       just smiled happily the entire time.
       "Right, well, I warned you. So I'm just gonna-" a hoof was
       reached outwards to take the toy, but Taps' second half of his
       sentence 'hold onto this 'til you leave' came out instead as
       "Ho-uagh!" as his hoof was quickly retracted in surprise.
       Haywire must have flipped a switch or pressed a button somewhere
       as the metal bird went from motionless to retreating from the
       hoof grabbing for it with a few flaps of it's artificial wings,
       both how it had responded to him and the fact that the wings had
       actually worked in lifting the statuette-bird-toy-thing away
       surprising the bartender. Then again a possum rolling over may
       have surprised him in his current sleep deprived state.
       At first Taps wondered if the thing was alive before he had a
       paranoid idea of him hallucinating jump into his brain and roll
       around, though this was quickly put to rest when he noticed
       others in the tavern also staring at the fake bird that was now
       hovering about a foot off of his counter as it backed up and
       stayed close to it's owner.
       Was he just drunk...? He didn't remember dipping into the
       spirits... No. No he hadn't. And of course this thing wasn't
       alive! It was just a toy, probably enchanted by some unicorn
       somewhere which only made this even more annoying. Now Taps not
       only needed to deal with some small stallion playing with toys
       in his tavern after being told not to, but the toys were
       magical!
       That was somehow worse in his mind. Most would agree that Taps
       overreacted from this point onwards...
       #Post#: 3960--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stormy Night
       By: Haywire Date: October 30, 2014, 9:05 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       "Uh- get back here!" Taps swung a hoof to try and snatch the
       bird out of the air, a defiant tweet being heard as the toy
       thing swooped underneath the pony's leg and fluttered further
       away, "I said come here!!" Without really thinking about it,
       Taps found himself leaning further and further over his counter
       as his hoof went this way and that in an increasingly angry
       attempt to capture the toy bird or whatever it was, the bird
       managing quick and well executed dodges in the air as Taps
       constantly grabbed hold of nothing, this of course only
       frustrating him further and further.
       "Uh oh, Bubo!" Haywire spoke up with a small giggle as the bird
       eventually hovered behind his head for some form of cover from
       the enraged bartender, "Looks like he's it! Code Recess Games!
       Defence!" The bird, evidently named Bubo, managed a split second
       salute in mid air with one of his wings as Haywire, oblivious to
       the ill temper of the bartender, believed this to merely be a
       game, even Taps' climbing onto the counter and subsequent dive
       through the air to capture Bubo not doing much to rob him of
       this idea. Even if the dive was to go straight through him if it
       hoped to reach the bird beyond.
       With a short roar Taps launched himself forward from the
       counter, Haywire ducking in time to allow the larger stallion to
       soar over him while Bubo merely increased his altitude to avoid
       the attempted capture, Taps swinging both of his front hooves
       outwards then back in to try and tackle grab the toy, his "Aha!"
       quickly morphing into a concerned cry as he caught nothing and
       instead went onwards to fall onto the floor, his plan obviously
       not having been very well though out beyond the "I'll just catch
       it" stage.
       Thankfully he wasn't hurt, his twisting in the air causing his
       side to come into contact with the ground first, a particularly
       slippery part of the ground as well as he didn't stop there, a
       puddle from the storm outside having leaked enough water onto
       the floor to allow him to hydroplane his way onwards and slide
       into one of the booths occupied by a pair of mares. Both were
       given a small start as their seat was shaken from the impact,
       but their surprise and concern were quickly sugar coated with a
       small chuckle shared between them once Taps sprung back to his
       hooves none the worse for wear.
       "Get your toy under control!" He demanded, more attempts to
       snatch at the bird hovering nearby to see if he'd been alright
       meeting with failure despite how agressive they'd become, his
       now wet limbs flinging drops of water onto everything nearby.
       Haywire giggled again and shook his head, "Thanks for inviting
       me, but I'm too tired to play," was the infuriating reply, Taps
       now wondering whether he'd be able to keep himself from throwing
       the little stallion out of the tavern storm or no after this.
       Either he honestly believed this was a game, or he was
       intentionally trying to anger him, which he was doing a gosh
       darn good job at so far!
       As his attempts to capture Bubo became more like a mission to
       bring order back into the tavern, Taps found himself swinging
       his hooves out wildly, climbing up and around empty and occupied
       seats and making little hops and jumps to try and reach the
       airborne menace. Through all this the other ponies trapped there
       due to the storm watched, a few with a tired look of
       indifference while others chuckled at the struggle between pony
       and machine and more still started placing small bets on what
       the outcome would be.
       The mug balancing and gruff stallion refusing to give up his
       seat to the storm found himself needing to quickly duck his head
       to avoid a fleeing Bubo after things had escalated pretty far
       along, his mug somehow managing to defy gravity and remain in
       it's place in the air without spilling a drop for the half a
       second needed to avoid the incoming metal bird, his head
       returning to wearing it like a hat soon after as Taps climbed up
       and onto the back rest behind him. By this time the two playing
       cat and mouse had managed to have the other ponies in the
       building divide into two sides, one shouting encouragment for
       Taps to succeed in taming the unruly bird while the other
       cheered fro Bubo to successfully escape, or at least continue to
       keep away so that things would remain interesting.
       "Come on, Taps, get that can opener!" a stallion shouted, a
       small pile of bits gleaming in the tavern's lights on the table
       beside him as the betting had continued, between himself and
       those still interested nearby.
       "Pfft! There's no way that bartender can keep up with you, Bubo!
       You got speed and agility! You can fly circles around him!" the
       other side claimed, Bubo's constant avoiding of Taps' grabby
       hooves being plenty evidence of this as Taps balanced his way
       around the crescent moon shaped back rest of the seat he'd
       chased his prey up and over.
       All the while during this Haywire hadn't taken a side as he had
       continued to assume that the two were just having fun. Aside
       from answering a few questions asked by some of the more curious
       ponies watching the antics playing out before them, Hay had just
       watched and felt happier seeing how the ponies around him were
       being more lively and laughing instead of staying so quiet and
       looking as down as they were when he'd arrived as the positive
       mood had been infectious. He had been in the middle of
       explaining where Bubo had come from to a mare - telling her
       about how he was an inventor normally stationed in Canterlot and
       about how he had, in fact, built Bubo himself - and was giggling
       at how she had told him she liked his goggles when the chase
       quickly brought itself to a close.
       Having chased Bubo around to the edge of the back rest, Taps,
       left with nowhere else to go, made another rash and not very
       well thought out decision to attempt to fly through the air
       himself to try and catch the bird that continued to evade his
       grasp, his back legs propelling him into a leap forward and off
       of his ellevated position, his jump being so high as to nearly
       cause him to touch the cieling as he reached for the bird. This
       time he'd at least managed to touch Bubo before rapidly
       beginning his descent, Bubo being knocked for a small tumble in
       the air he was forced to recover from while Taps was headed
       right for a table. Shouts were made by ponies to clear the way
       as Taps was quickly given space to land, and to his credit he
       did indeed land on his hooves. He had just landed on one of the
       smaller and less sturdy tables in the tavern, which meant that
       his landing was a very brief one as the platform toppled over
       and sent several mugs of leaked water from the cieling splashing
       every which way. Mostly on him, though. Of course.
       Landing with an "Oomph!" having the wind taken out of him, and
       now finding himself to be even more soaked with water tha
       before, Taps just lay there on the ground exhausted and feeling
       a small bruise forming on his shoulder. The other ponies watched
       for a few moments to see if he was alright to continue, but when
       it became clear that Taps had no more gas left in the tank to
       keep going they erupted into cheers. A victor had been decided!
       And those who had bet on machine would find themselves going
       home a few bits richer that night. Taps was helped to his hooves
       by a couple of his supporters, him grumbling as he refused to
       admit to his defeat while Bubo hovered his way back to his
       creator and settled down on Hay's head, his new fans crowding
       around to bombard the two of them with questions, Haywire
       wearing a large grin and happily answering while Bub looked to
       shyly nestle into his short brown mane at the continued
       attention.
       "Hey!" a stallion was heard shouting from another part of the
       tavern, him alternating his attention between a window and the
       other ponies in the building, "The storm! It's finally let up!
       Oh thank Celestia, we can finally get out of here!" A very
       enthusiastic murmer of relieved approval washed over the others,
       most of whom immediately trotting for the door as they left to
       go home regardless of their curiosity over the mechanical bird
       while others only paused long enough to collect their winnings
       from the betting pool. The tavern was quickly being emptied as
       ponies were finally able to start making their way home, the
       storm outside indeed having broken and died down. In fact, from
       how it was looking, the storm seemed to have ceased its
       incessent raging against the land some time ago, the distraction
       provided by the bird and the bartender evidently having done a
       pretty darn good job at getting their minds off of it, something
       everypony was happy to realize as they said quick goodbyes and
       hurried along to find their nice and comfy beds waiting for them
       back home.
       Taps waited until most were gone, him keeping his narrowed eyes
       on Haywire and Bubo the entire time in a grumpy show of his
       continued dissaproval while Hay eventually found himself to be
       the last patron lingering within the tavern, him seeming to be
       discussing somethign with Bubo as he prepared to head out
       himself. Taps stood up from the seat he'd taken and slowly,
       tiredly walked over to the small stallion, Haywire noticing and
       shining another one of his gosh darn happy grins his way while
       Bubo appeared to tense up as if expecting another round of tag
       to start up. Once close enough Taps just sort of stared at the
       two for a short while, Hay never appearing to have it dampen his
       smile in the slightest, until finally he reared back onto his
       back hooves and looked about ready to try and strangle one of
       them, Bubo stretching out his wings at the same time in
       preperation for another attempt being made to capture him.
       Nothing came of it, however, as Taps soon just sighed and
       lowered himself back down.
       "... Your drinks on me..." he said, tilting his head towards the
       mug of apple juice Haywire had forgotten about earlier that
       night, "... I'm going to sleep..." and with that Taps turned on
       his hooves, trotted right up to one of the now wonderfully empty
       booths and collapsed into the cushioning of the seat, snores
       almost instantly being heard as he kept his promise.
       Haywire gave a small gasp in realization as Bubo relaxed, the
       small stallion returning his attention to his drink, it now a
       touch warm after having been ignored but otherwise fine. He
       snatched it up in his hooves and gulped it down, Hay then wiping
       his muzzle dry with a hoof and giving a satisfied sigh before
       looking up towards Bubo.
       "Ready to go?" he asked, Bubo giving Taps one last look before
       chirping a yes, him looking forward to flying about outside a
       bit now that the rain was gone.
       *****************************************************