Threads aren’t allowed to last more than two days edition.
>Oh look, another text-based CYOA, what's with this one?
Glad you asked.
Welcome to Super Pony, a CYOA taking place in Maretropolis, a city where the forces of good and evil are at a constant struggle.
You play as Easy Ride, also known as Road Rage, and this is your quest to get back at Boomerang for sending you to prison and subsequently ruining your life.
Catch up on this and other CYOAs here:
>Ran into a superhero named Quicksand
>Defeated him by hugging him.
>He’s almost entirely turned to glass, only his head remains unturned.
>You figure that since his face is closer to the source of his magic, it’s probably more difficult to turn.
>Maybe if you tried a little harder, you could glass that over too.
>Before that, you decide that it’s time to do what every good villain needs to do when she wins.
>Releasing your embrace, you position yourself in front of the decorative super and place your hoof under his chin.
“It’s no glass eye, but I’m sure you’ll make do.”
>He rolls his eyes, trying to pull his head away from you.
>But with his neck turned to glass, he finds it rather difficult.
“Now then, what shall I do with you?”
>You release his head and trot around him, a hoof to your chin as you admire your handiwork.
“Excellent craftsmanship, if I say so myself. A little work and I’m sure the museum would be glad to take a piece like this.”
>You stomp a hoof to the ground, melting the sand of the riverbed into a pool of red-hot molten glass.
>You ease yourself into the pool of glass as if it were a hot tub, letting out a content sigh as you do.
>It actually feels kind of nice, a little like bathing in warm syrup.
>The glass slides out of the way to make room for you, and you’re soon up to your neck in glass.
“Or maybe you’d like to go for a swim? Trust me, the water’s fine.”
>He keeps his gaze straight forward, refusing to look at you.
“What, did I glass over your vocal cords or something?”
>He continues to basically pout as he lies immobile, his mane still dripping sand.
>Still, what are you going to do with this guy?
>You swim over to the other end of the pool and place your front hooves on the side.
>Something reminds you of Recluse here.
>You meditate, examining him as best you can.
>His source of magic still shines in the back of his head, but less brightly than before.
>None of his magic seems to be leaving his body, so he doesn’t seem to be trying anything, at least as far as you can tell.
>Still, no reason to let your guard down.
>Crossing your arms on the riverbed, you address the pouting super.
“Oh come on Quicky, don’t be like that.”
>He grumbles in response.
“It was a good fight, really. Your pun game was on point”
>”Thanks, I guess. Maybe if I had a little more time to limber up, I might have done better. Guess I’m just feeling a little stiff today.”
>Your ears fall back, pressing against your head.
“Yeah, about that. That glass thing isn’t permanent, is it? You’re not stuck like that forever, are you?”
>He strains his head to look over his body.
>”You know, I’m not sure. I can’t turn it back, but this hasn’t really happened to me before.”
>You force a smile and scratch the back of your head with a hoof.
>”I think it’ll be fine, I hope. Give it a few days and we’ll see what happens.”
“So big guy, what do you eat?”
>He perks an eyebrow.
>”Uh, I don’t usually. Sometimes I’ll eat stuff just because it’s there, but I don’t need to eat.”
>His eyes search your face, trying to read you.
>”Why do you ask? You’re not planning on taking me back with you, right?”
Well, I ain't quite ready to go back yet, my new friend, and I doubt you're gonna stay quiet about this, so I don't see a lot of other options really.
Besides, it's been forever since I've had company that could talk back.
Just think of all the fun we could have! It'll be like a camping trip!
>A smug grin spreads across your face, spreading from cheek to cheek.
>Yes, this was an awful, wonderful idea.
“Well, my new friend, I ain’t ready to go back to town yet and you’re probably not going to keep quiet about this.”
>”Oh god, you’re taking me home.”
“Besides, it’s been months since I’ve had any company that could actually talk back to me.”
>”Oh Celestia, no.”
“Don’t be like that, think of all the fun we can have! It’ll be like an extended camping trip!”
>”Do I get a say in this?”
“Nope. You’re coming home with me and you’re going to like it.”
>You extract yourself from your lava bath and shake yourself off.
>The molten glass sticks to your body, even hardening in some spots, and you have to raise the temperature again to melt them.
>You move over to the super and apply some heat to his joints, melting the glass.
>”The hell are you doing?”
“Can’t carry you like this, can I?”
>You bend his legs, shifting them and letting them cool into a new position.
>Once you’ve repositioned him, you hop him up onto your back so he’s straddling you.
>With that done, you trot back to your cave, his protests falling on deaf ears.
>You trot inside and carefully set him down.
>You once again apply heat, and he glances around your cave, eyes falling on your bike, your bedding, the ceiling, the loose rock wall, and your stockpiles of food and water.
>”This is where you’ve been these past months?”
“Yeah, you like it?”
>”It’s minimalistic, very roomy, I’ll give it that much.”
>You finish repositioning him, and you have a mostly glass statue seated on his haunches on your cave floor.
>You plop down on your own haunches and look at him eagerly.
>He sits in silence for a moment before he exhales.
>”So, uh, what have you been doing out here? I heard you were some murderer psychopath, but you haven't killed me yet, at least."
“Nonsense, all of it!”
>You say, stamping a hoof down.
“That smug bug got what was coming to her and everyone else was an accident. Course I regret it, course I’m not proud of what happened, but it’s no use crying about it anymore.”
>”I believe you.”
>”Sure, I never knew Recluse myself, but from what I heard, she could be a bit of a bitch. What did she do?”
“’Bit of a bitch’ is an understatement. She pretended to give up, covered me with changeling goop, and threatened my friends.”
>”And the other people?”
“Of course I wasn’t trying to get them killed. Besides, ‘murderer psychopath?’ I’d like to think there’s a difference between a psychopath and a mare in heat with anger issues.”
>”Fair enough, but if you’ve been around hot mares in heat, you’d know it’s easy to get them mixed up.”
>You sneer, pointing your hoof at him accusingly.
“Now listen here you little shit-“
>”Hey, you wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses, would you?”
“No, but I do control your every move, I’m sure I could think of a nice position to leave you in for a few hours.”
>”W-well alright,” he says, content to drop the topic. “So, you said that you weren’t ready to go back yet. What are you doing when you get back? You going to turn around and go hero or…?”
“I have a debt to pay.”
“That’s all I’m going to say about that topic.”
>You falling into silence.
>”Fair enough, this isn’t an interrogation or anything.”
>He keeps making an odd face, as if he wants to emote with his body, but quickly remembers that he can’t.
>It’s clearly annoying him, but he keeps his composure fairly well.
>“I don’t want you to think that I’m grilling you for answers, if you have something you want to know about me, go ahead and fire away.”
“Is Quicksand your real name?”
>He shakes his head.
>”Of course not.”
“Mind telling me what is?”
>”No can do, Road Rage.”
“So, how long have you been a super?”
>”I become a super about a year ago now, if I’m remembering right. Before that I was just a worker.”
>”Yup, same as about half the other supers in this crazy city. Luckily I didn’t go insane for whatever reason. That would have sucked.”
>You let out a little hum in affirmation, moving on.
“So, does anyone else know you’re out here? Anyone who’ll miss you if they don’t hear from you again?”
>His eyes widen, and he looks around quickly.
>”W-what kind of question is that? I thought you just said you weren’t going to kill me!”
“Relax dude, I’m not gonna kill you, I just want to know about your family.”
>”I’m going to just say yes, there are people who would miss me. I’m friends with a few other supers and I live with my sister.”
“Not even a little bit more?”
>”I think I’m going to leave it at that."
“Welp, enjoy your stay, bud. Hope you don’t get bored easily.”
>”I do… I really do…”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few hours anyway.”
>You turn and trot away, but get an idea as you do.”
>You close your eyes and meditate, trying to get a feel for where he is.
>A pony’s a lot bigger than a scorpion or an ant, and you already know exactly where he is already, so you can see him almost all the way to the cave’s mouth.
>It’s tough to get an idea of how far your abilities can go, but at 30 or 40 meters, you can’t really see him anymore.
>You trot to the rocky ceiling above the cave and try up there.
>It’s very difficult to see through the rock, and you can only see the very roof of the cave.
>Shrugging, you return to your training.
>Over the next few days, your prisoner’s body begins to return to normal, starting at his neck and working down.
>His shoulders have gotten free, and he can slowly move his front legs, much to his amusement.
>It’s quickly become his favorite pastime, just above blowing his mane out of his eyes and flopping his ears back and forth.
>But he’s still pretty much immobile, since he can’t bend them at all.
>What are your plans for your prisoner? Let him go? Glass him over entirely? Just bring the glass back to his neck?
>You trot over to the super, who is moving his legs back and forth, scuffing his glass hoof on the ground.
“Really sorry about having to ruin your fun, but it’s what villains do.”
>You lift out a fiery hoof and reach it towards him.
>He tries to pull away from you, but can’t really move, so he’s forced to resort to a low whine.
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”
>You run your hoof over his shoulders, withers, and lower neck, glassing it back over.
>He groans and harrumphs, exhaling a bit of air out of his nostrils.
“Sorry Quicky, I just can’t let you go just yet. You understand, right?”
>”Worst desert adventure ever,” he grumbles, hanging his head.
“Buck up, you’re a wonderful centerpiece, and I think you really bring the whole room together!”
>"It's boring as all get-out! Imagine your job is to sit there and do nothing all day, and you're not allowed to do anything else at all, ever. Not even move."
>"I've counted every single crack on the wall thirteen times. There are 836 of them, in case you're wondering."
If you wanted. An army made entirely of arachnids does have some downsides.
Mostly how they can't think for themselves as well as ponies can, and you'd need to be personally controlling the army mentally.
It's viable, but wouldn't be nearly as effective as having actual henchmen.
“Oh relax, you sound like you have sand up your bum.”
>”No, it’s because I don’t that I’m upset.”
“You’ll get over it. Besides, you’ll only have to deal with me for a little while longer before I’m out of your hair.”
>“And how long is that?”
“A couple weeks.”
>The pony’s face locks up, staring into the distance.
>You’re absolutely certain he’s screaming internally.
“Hey, you’re the one who decided to fight me.”
>You trot off, content to leave him there with his thousand-yard stare.
>As you resume your training, you find yourself vaguely regretful.
>On one hoof, you’re losing your valued squish with every step you take, your muscles toning more and more every day.
>But on the other, you’re a lot stronger and have a lot more endurance than you did a few months ago.
>In fact, you’re in the best shape of your life.
>Something you intend to ruin very soon.
>As time goes on, you tried your best to recall that cactus juice recipe to try on your prisoner.
>You’re nearly certain you messed it up.
>Quicksand’s normally downcast and pouty composure turned into delirium.
>He started shouting about weird snake things, a gerbil-hamster with hands, and spiders twice as big as a pony.
>Not stuff you would really want to experience for yourself.
>Still, it kept him from complaining for a night.
>As your training went on, you did a little bit of work on the motorcycle.
>Not a lot to burn your reserve of gas, but mostly to improve your balance, so you don’t throw the motorbike over when you’re trying to whip, or so you can throw a fireball accurately while moving.
>Other than that, you work on your meditation and fire control a lot more.
>It goes pretty well, and you find that you can begin to see sources of magic pretty quickly, within a few seconds of closing your eyes.
>Also, you’ve gotten a pretty sweet control of your fire, and can even put out fires that you’ve lit, long as they’re not too big already.
>You don’t think that luck will be as big a factor anymore.
>Or at least, you hope so.
>It’s the last day out in the desert, and you’re packing boxes and supplies back into the van, ready to head back to Maretropolis.
>Your cloaked friend helps you pack the truck full of stuff, mostly just your motorcycle, a few mechanical things, and whatever’s left of the canned food.
>However, when it’s time to load your little superhero statue, who was practically jovial at the chance to finally get out of the desert, he lifts a hoof, stopping you.
>”Hold on,” the cloaked pony says, “who’s this?”
“Oh, that’s Quicksand, I had the pleasure of running into him while I was out here.”
>"How long ago?"
"About a week after we last met each other. He's kind of my prisoner now."
>”And you want to take him back with you? Where would we leave him?”
“Nah, though I’d rather not keep his family worrying, he’ll thaw out on his own.”
>The super’s mouth gapes, flopping like a fish.
>”You’re leaving me out here?”
“Sorry bud, you’ve started thawing on your own before, you’ll be free in a week or two, I’m sure.”
>”Do I get a say in this? You could just leave me in an alley somewhere. I can yel!”
>You load the last of your supplies into the back of the truck, leaving the glass super behind.
>Saying your final goodbye, you hop into the back of the truck and give a nod to the cloaked pony.
>As the door to the back shuts, you give Quicksand a little wave before plopping down on the truck’s floor.
>Then the truck lurches beneath you, pulling off towards home.
>Without the comfort of straw to lie on, the ride back is uncomfortable to say the least.
>Bump after bump rattles the enclosed back, and again you’re forced to hold onto whatever you can.
>Luckily, everything was tied down, so you’re not being smacked by anything.
>The hours tick by, filling you with anticipation for your return.
>After an endless series of bumps, turns, stops, and starts, you hear the familiar sound of an opening garage door.
>The truck backs up and the back door flies open.
>You shield your eyes from the low light, and you look around.
>It’s the garage, but not as you remember it.
>The noisy beat-up generator is gone completely, but the garage is totally lit, even more brightly than before.
>The furnishings have been replaced, and instead of antennae, a cable box sits under the television.
>On the living half of the garage, a white carpet has been laid across the floor.
>The kitchen counter carries a cardboard box with a clear lid, but you can’t see what’s inside from where you are.
>Just in front of the door, four familiar ponies stand with smiles on their faces.
>Tinker, Storm, Two-bit, and Ice all stand with smiles on their faces.
>You hop down from the truck and the four of them pull you into a hug, which you return.
>”Welcome back, Easy!” They shout, squeezing you.
>”How was your desert adventure?” Storm asks.
>Tinker speaks up next.
>”Yeah, you gotta tell us all about it!”
>You pull away from the hug, dusting yourself off.
“A whole lot of nothing, really,” you begin.
“I spent most of it just training, but there were a couple interesting moments. There was a shaman weirdo early on.”
>”Oh dear, please tell me you didn’t take his drugs.”
“Why, you know Yansa?”
>”No, but those desert sages are all the same. Seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
“Well, I let him get me high on cactus and I had some weird visions.”
>Two-bit sighs, shaking his head.
“That isn’t all. Despite being way out there in the desert, I ran into a superhero mad out of sand.”
>A few eyebrows perk.
“His name was Quicksand, and I ended up turning him to glass and made him live with me for a couple weeks. In fact, he’s still out there, slowly turning back to sand.”
>Two-bit nods. “Nice work. Mildly inconvenienced, but not hurt and not telling anypony what happened until you’re long gone.”
“Well, sorry to come home without tales of adventure, but that’s all I really have to tell. Train, train, eat, train, and sleep for three months. I see you’ve redecorated.”
>Two-bit nods, gesturing around the room. “Yeah, we’ve been doing pretty well ourselves. Storm here has-“
>Storm interjects, puffing out her chest. “Just kicking major ass lately is all, no big deal. We even have real electricity now!”
>”Yeah, like Storm said. But enough about us, you’re looking really good. Little messy, but you’re looking in really good shape. Tinker insisted we get a cake for your return, but if you’d rather stick to that diet of yours…”
>Tinker speaks up.
>”Yeah. It’s a bit generic, but it’s cake all the same.”
>The five of you trot over to the kitchen and Tinker opens the cardboard packaging to reveal a wonderful, delicious cake.
>The whole thing is covered in white frosting, with little green flames painted in the corners.
>The words ‘Welcome back!’ are piped in green cursive frosting in the center of the cake.
>You stare at the wondrous object, frozen in awe.
>”I’m sorry it’s not very personal, but we couldn’t take too many chances, you know?”
>But you don’t care.
>Your squish is in that cake.
>And you intend to reclaim it.
>Two-bit begins cutting the cake, doling out pieces, but you take control, shoving piece after piece down your throat.
>Your feverish eating draws some gazes and a head shake from Ice.
>”Shouldn’t you, er, slow down a bit?” Two-bit asks, “You did go through all that training for a reason, right?”
>You shake your head, a fork hanging out of your mouth, and poke your stomach with a hoof.
>Still hard, chiseled, and muscular.
>The whole earth pony strength thing just isn’t you, Easy Ride must be squishy, it’s a universal truth.
>Still, another part of you feels a little sad that it’s going to go away, if only a small part of you.
>After downing about a third of the cake, your stomach starts to hurt and you can’t bring yourself to take another bite.
>You were always a big eater, you usually could have downed more than that.
>Guess you’ll need a few days for your stomach to expand again.
>You plop down on the couch, laying a hoof across your stomach.
>Two-bit soon plops down next to you.
>”So, a few months in the desert, you must have had some time to think. What are you going to do first now that you’re back?”
“Pay back on the debt I owe.”
>”What do you mean?”
“I took fourteen, I have to give back. Right the balance.”
>He nods, seemingly understanding.
>”As a wanted criminal with an image to keep, I can’t say I condone any acts of heroism. However, I think turning yourself around is a fine goal. But a goal is not a plan.”
>”Need to take steps towards that. If you just go out there and try to right things without knowing what you’re doing, you’ll be done in. No two ways about it.”
>His horn lights up, enveloping a drawer in the kitchen with a golden light.
>The door opens, and a notepad and pencil drift over to him.
>”So, I know you’re broke, but I can still try and help out.”
>He holds the pencil poised over the paper, ready to write.
>”How are you going to go about this, and more importantly, what do you need?”
We need to know what's going on in the city. Who's dangerous and what have they been up to. Who's taking things too far and needs to be stopped.
A police scanner on the bike or in the helmet seems like a good upgrade now that we're back too. We can stay alerted to any big goings on and also to anyone coming for us.
Maybe we can do a little undercover wandering. Deal with some of the more dangerous normal criminals.
>The whole earth pony strength thing just isn’t you, Easy Ride must be squishy, it’s a universal truth.
>earth pony strength
I'm no /fit/izen, but if she kept up the workout while still eating to regain/maintain the squish, wouldn't she still be as strong as she is now? The only thing she'd lose would be the sculpted look, right?
But like I said, I don't know shit about stuff like that.
>You briefly think about your silly thought earlier.
>If you somehow kept up your workout routine, you wouldn’t get weaker, you’d just get squishier.
>A win-win situation, of course.
“Firstly, to get squishy again.”
>He begins to write, but quickly flips the pencil over, erasing what he wrote.
>”Is that what that cake business was about?”
“You bet,” you say, patting your belly.
>”But seriously, what do you need?”
“Right, so I’m going to need to get at any villains, but patrolling around and waiting for something to happen is going to get me hounded by supers doing the same.”
>”For that, I’d recommend a police scanner. It could go right into the bike and you could listen in while you’re riding.”
>He scribbles for a second, placing the pencil to the paper.
>”They’re not too expensive, around a hundred bits or so. You could either steal one or save up some funds to get one later.”
“Right. Though I might be able to do some undercover wandering and see if I can’t deal with some of the more dangerous normal criminals.”
>”You might run into a snag there. It’s not that it’s impossible, but Easy Ride and Road Rage are too recognizable. You could go for a new outfit, and that’d run you a few hundred to half a thousand bits, depending.”
“Any other options?”
>”Clothing that covers everything? A trenchcoat or cloak, maybe? Much more cost-effective, fifty bits tops.”
“And also, I’m going no need some info on what’s going on in the city. Who’s dangerous and needs to be stopped.”
>”Yeah, I think I can provide some information on criminals. But what’s step number one? Police scanner, outfit, or info to get right out into the field?”
“On one hoof, the scanner does seem tempting.”
>”You do have a few options.”
>He scribbles once again.
>”For stealing, you could take one straight from a cop car or super who owns one, or rob an electronics store, they’re bound to have one or two.”
>”Perhaps you could sell something to pay for one legally?”
“In the other, I’d kind of like a new outfit, I’m really tired of being recognized.”
>”Again, your options are pretty open. You could save money or sell some of the more valuable stuff you have for a while new suit from Spandex, and that could be useful.”
“You’d think it’s be easy to figure out who the flaming pony with green hair and yellow fur is.”
>”You’d think so, but people really don’t look that hard into identities. Cover the cutie mark, stick a mask on, suddenly nopony can figure out who you are.”
>“Or you could just go for the classic cloak or trenchcoat routine. Sure, you’ll draw some eyes, but it’d work just fine for hiding who you are. Not incredibly fire-retardant though, so you’d want to be careful.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
>”If you gave me the money, I could probably go out and buy you a cloak, if you wanted. Course, that would leave you flat broke.”
“Trenchcoat sounds good. If nothing else, I’ll be able to walk around again.”
>Two-bit nods and extends his hoof.
>Sighing, you fish out 50 bits and plop them into his frog.
>You’re left with a measly four bits.
>Not even enough to eat.
>Hopefully they don’t mind you mooching for a while.
>”Right, well I’ll be right back with your outfit.”
>You bid him goodbye and plop back onto the sofa, sinking into the cushion.
>It feels incredibly comfortable as it molds around you, brushing your unkempt fur.
>After months of sleeping on itchy straw and lying on a hard stone floor, it feels more comfortable than anything you’ve ever known.
>In fact, it might not be a bad idea to take a nap while you wait for Two-bit to return.
>Yeah, a nap sounds good.
>You let your head flop onto the arm of the sofa and easily fall into a blissful sleep.
And I’m going to pause here. Thank you all so much for playing.
I don’t think I’ll be able to run tomorrow, but Saturday, I probably will. I’ll keep you updated if the thread’s still up tomorrow. However, don’t feel the need to bump it, since the thread’s not allowed to last past two days anyway.
Other than that, if you have any questions for me or the characters, fire away.
Going out into the desert reminded me of getting to Los Pegasus in Royal Guard CYOA, though much shorter.
>having a blast
>action and adventure!
>get to Los Pegasus
>try to leave the nightmare
>(can't wake up)
But anon, I thought you wanted to act like a bat.
>A hoof on your shoulder rouses you from your nap.
>You pull your eyes open and look into the face of Two-bit shaking you awake.
>Casting a glance to the window, the light of the sun has gone, replaced by night.
>Two-bit holds a brown mess of fabric with accompanying hat.
>”I know it’s really ugly, but it’ll do, right?”
>You take the clothing and try it on.
>It takes you a good deal of time to put on, as you have to button it and do the belt, but everything but your hind legs, hooves, tail and head are covered.
>You place the hat on your head and look into the darkened television screen.
>A very brown mare stares back, her recognizable mane style and almost all of her body hidden underneath clothing.
>God, you look stupid. Like one of those wannabe detectives from television.
“You really think this’ll work?” You ask, lifting a hoof.
>”Yup, totally,” he says, holding up a hoof to conceal a snicker.
>”But now that you can go outside now, what do you need? Want to go after some villains or a police scanner?”
“Police Scanner first.”
>”Right, so I’ve told you your options already.”
>He hoofs you the notepad, and you read off the middle as he speaks.
>”You could steal from a super who has one already.”
“Seems a little bit on the dangerous side, and I’d rather not blow my cover right away.”
>”You could also take one right from the police.”
“Bit more on the stealthy side. Get the cops occupied with somepony else and take one from them while they’re busy.”
>”Or break into an electronics store and nabbing one.”
“Still has the risk of blowing my cover. Ponies don’t even know I’m back yet.”
>”Or there’s the more boring option of just going out and buying one. Course, that’d mean pawning or selling off your other stuff.”
>You put your hoof to your chin, scratching it in thought.
>”What’s it gonna be?”
>You run through a few options in your head.
>You’re not really sure what you have that would be worth something.
>The fire orb would be worth a lot, but it but it’d probably take a while for Two-bit to sell, and it’s an extra boost that you want to save it for when you need it.
>The pocketwatch does have an orb in it, but it’s running on empty as-is. You’re not sure how much that would fetch.
>You think the signed poster might be worth something, though you’re not sure. It is kind of folded.
>It might be useful to you someday if you run into someone who wants it.
>You also give a brief thought to hiding the switchblade in your mane in case you get tied up.
>You could probably just burn the ropes, though.
>You could probably hide it underneath your hat if you wanted, but your mane’s not long enough to hide a switchblade.
>Not without it falling out, at least.
>Plus, it’d take something really serious to keep you tied up, long as you weren’t tired out and unable to use your fire.
>Though switchblades aren’t illegal in Maretropolis, you don’t know how much one would fetch, certainly not enough to cover the price of a scanner.
>Trance’s knife is pretty ornate, you’re not sure how much that one’s worth either.
>No chance you're going to be able to sell that dildo.
>Unless of course you found some weirdo pervert.
“Stealing one from the cops is tempting, I’m really not sure.”
>”Take all the time you need to think. There’s no rush, really.”
>implying only one spot is reserved
We still got two others.
>You briefly consider selling yourself for money.
>No way. Whoring’s not your thing, and you certainly don’t want to deal with pregnancy, diseases, or any of that shit.
>The very idea repulses you.
“I think I’ll head over to the pawn shop and see if I can’t get some of this stuff appraised.”
>”Sounds like a plan.”
>You move to go over to your motorcycle, but Two-bit stops you.
>”I wouldn’t. If you have to take that out, be really careful. It may be a pretty standard bike, but it’s a risk I wouldn’t take.”
>”Besides, there’s a 24 hour pawn about six or seven blocks down, you’ll be able to walk.”
>You nod and wish Two-bit goodbye and promise to be back later.
>Your walk over to the pawn shop takes you a good while, and your odd getup draws some stares from the scant evening pedestrians, but no one recognizes you as far as you can tell.
>Soon, you push open the door to the pawn shop, a ‘ding-dong’ ringing throughout the store.
>You walk up to the pegasus mare manning the counter and ask for the prices on a few of your items.
>She says that she’ll give you 10 bits for the switchblade.
>Trance’s knife is worth 30.
>The pocketwatch is worth a good deal more at 50 bits.
>Finally, she’ll give you 10 bits for the signed poster.
>You recall that a police scanner will run you around a hundred bits.
>You let her take Trance’s knife and pocket the thirty bits.
>”Thank you, miss,” she addresses you as she rings you up.
>You return he other items to your pockets, swiping them off the counter and into your bag.
>You trot out of the store, disappointed at your meager gain.
>Guess you should have known better from a pawn shop.
>It seems you’re resigned to stealing a police scanner.
>But where were you going to steal one from?
>You remember the location of an electronics store a few blocks down.
>The store should be closed by now.
>Or you could hang around and wait for the telltale sound of police sirens.
>You don’t hear any now, but with this city, it’s only a matter of time.
>Robbing the store seems like your best bet.
>Though it makes you feel a little dirty.
>Kind of like that robber a few months ago.
>Petty crimes feel a little low, but what else are you going to do?
>Police might not be perfectly stationary, and that might lead to a lot of trouble.
>Plus, you might be able to scrounge up some other knickknacks while you’re at it.
>Might as well get to it.
>Nodding to strengthen your resolve, you trot in the direction of the electronics store, and soon find yourself staring at the sign.
>RadioShed Electronics store, for all your police scanner needs
>At least it’s a chain that you’re robbing, and not some family store.
>That’s what you’ll tell yourself, anyway.
>Briefly, you case the store.
>There store is situated at the corner of a larger outlet building.
>Around the rear, there’s a door for employee access right next to the dumpster.
>A brief look into the dumpster reveals piles of broken electronics, scrapped by employees after they’re no longer useful.
>Phones, various CDs, radios, and a lot of packaging, all destroyed by the employees beyond the point of repair.
>What a waste.
>You spot a ladder to the roof around the side of the building, but it’s higher than you can reach.
>The front of the store is almost entirely glass, and you can easily see inside.
>Various electronics line the shelves, from phones to radios.
>In the far back, you think you can spot your target.
>You see CB Radios on the bottom shelves, and scanners on the upper ones.
>You can spot two video cameras and a black sphere from the window.
>The black sphere is in the center of the room, and the more obvious video cameras are each in a corner.
What about fire detection? Pouring out enough smoke like that would trip anything they would have.
>You head to the back again.
>You trot to the back of the store and pull on the handle.
>Can’t say you’re surprised.
>You trot over to the side and look at the ladder again.
>You leave your chain on your bike, so you don’t have it with you.
>Also, it’s not technically a fire escape, so there’s no way to knock it down.
>The ladder’s high up, probably to dissuade foals or random passers-by from getting onto the roof.
>You could probably reach it if you had something to stand on.
>Of course, there's always the option of just smashing the front windows, grabbing the stuff, and running out.
>But what to do?
Will entering through the back get us spotted by the cameras? Not sure which corners they're supposed to be in, but I'd guess they're in the back corners since we looked in through the front.
The employee access door leads to another part of the building, not the showroom where the products are sold.
However, you have no way of knowing whether or not there's a camera pointed at that door.
>Though you’d like to just smash and grab or melt the lock, it’s too risky.
>You’d rather not leave a whole lot of evidence, and the melted lock would certainly be evidence.
>You move to the rear of the building and try to move the dumpster.
>Though it takes some effort, it eventually does move.
>With an obnoxious grinding sound, you move it into position around the side of the building and flip the lid down.
>You hop onto the dumpster and find that it supports your weight just fine.
>You reach the ladder and climb to the top of the building.
>More than anything, it’s bare.
>A couple air conditioners sit off to one corner of the roof, whirring happily.
>To the other side, you notice a metal vent.
>It’s grated over, but certainly big enough for you to fit down, if you were able to find some way to remove the grating.
>Only two screws attach the grating to the vent.
>The vent cover easily falls off and you set it to the side.
>Then, you climb into the vent and slide down.
>The ventilation shaft bangs loudly as you slide down it.
>If there were anypony in the building, you’re certain they would have heard it.
>As you fall, you feel cobwebs and a whole truckload of dust brush up against your trenchcoat.
>You’re fairly certain it’s getting filthy, but you’re turned your flames off, and can’t see in the dark.
>In any case, you’re in, but casting a glance upward reveals that you probably won’t be able to get out the same way.
>You notice some light pouring in ahead and behind, so you crawl towards it, banging with every move.
>You’re not sure how those stealthy heroes do this so well.
>Gazing down from your grate, you find that you’re just above a table in the main showroom.
>Phones and other various electronics line the table, but the grate doesn't give you a large field of view.
>You crawl backwards to another source of light and find yourself looking down onto a desk lined with neatly stacked papers, a potted plant, and various typical office decorations.
>The ventilation shaft clearly wasn’t meant to take your weight and bows slightly with every step.
>It definitely shouldn’t take a lot of force to break one of the grates out.
>The office is probably your best bet.
>You doubt they’d put a camera in here anyway.
>Still, no reason to be careless.
>You stomp at the grate with your front legs, dislodging it.
>It snaps off the vent, bouncing off the desk and falling onto the ground.
>You extend your neck down the grate, holding your hat on your head in case there’s a camera.
>However, you don’t see one in the room and plop down from the grate.
>You’re in a small managerial office with filing cabinets on one side.
>A quick glance of the papers reveals nothing interesting.
>Financial information, inventory, profits, business stuff.
>If you were a corporate spy, you might be interested, but you don’t really have a use for any of it.
>The door has a one-way mirror, and you use it to look out into the hallway.
>The managerial office you’re occupying is at the far end of one hallway.
>Across from you and halfway down the hall, you spot an exit door, likely the employees-only door from earlier.
>Further down the hall, there’s another closed door and a hallway that leads back away from the exit.
>Directly across the hall from you, you spot a security camera overwatching the hall.
>The door swings out into the security camera, you can safely open it without being seen.
>While you would like to just start popping smokes, that’s certain to trigger an alarm.
>And you’d rather not have that.
>You grab a couple items off the desk, a paperweight and a pencil holder.
>As you do, you notice a small safe positioned underneath the desk.
>For now, you crack open the door and start attacking the camera.
>Fortunately, months of practicing how to throw things pays off.
>The metal pencil holder knocks the security camera a bit to the side, so that it’s facing precisely at the door.
>The second throw knocks it fully to the side, uselessly staring at a wall.
>From there, you sneak out of the office, confirming that this is the only camera in the hallway, and reach up to unplug it.
>The plug falls easily from the camera, and you’re free to explore the hallway.
>The hallway to the right leads out to the main showroom, curving once before you reach the door.
>You try the other door in the hallway, and count yourself lucky that it’s unlocked.
>You ease into the room, wary of any more cameras, but find none.
>The small room is filled with boxes, each bearing a brand name.
>Most of the boxes are filled with phones and various types of cords, but you keep searching for your prize.
>And you find it, a radio scanner, one you think would work well on your bike.
>You stash the box inside your saddlebag.
>Then, you trot out of the room and reach the employee door, testing it with a push.
>Thankfully, not locked on the inside.
>You've got your prize, but are you ready to leave just yet?
>Should you put the dumpster and roof grate back while you're at it?
Are hoofprints a thing in this universe?
Otherwise just go unless we wanna take more shit. The tapes will show the camera was moved around, so moving the stuff back won't matter, they'll know someone was there anyways.
>You cast your eyes down to your hooves, worried about being identified from your hoofprint.
>But you’ve never heard of hoofprints being used as evidence.
>You don’t think it’s something you’ll have to worry about.
>And while you would like to open the safe, you doubt you could do it quietly, and would rather get going while the going’s good.
>You point the camera back in its original direction and return the desk stuff to its original location.
>Not really stressing too much about the grate, you just toss it up into the vent until it stays.
>The camera moved anyway, they’ll know there was a break-in.
>You trot right out the back door, your cargo in tow, and replace the dumpster.
>Marveling a little at your excellent job, you trot back towards the garage and Two-bit.
And that’s where I’m going to pause for now. Thanks to you all for playing. I think I’m going to pack it in for the week, so don’t feel the need to keep this thread up.
As I’m going back to Uni again this week, I’ll probably fall into my old twice a week schedule, but I’ll see if I can’t start running more often.
If you have any questions for me or the characters, be sure to ask them.
Other than that, I have to say I’m impressed with the S rank. That break-in may have seemed easy on your end, but believe me when I say you avoided every single pitfall I put in.
I'm sorry Anon, but there isn't. The archive is the only place it's stored.
Otherwise if on phone you can preload each desu thread in separate tabs before the trip and if its not an old piece of crap it should save it while away.
Did it for this CYOA
and did the same with Urban survival yesterday.