Lavender S Plight The First Day
IC date: Summer 89
OOC date: September 17
Location: Belly of the Beast
PCs: Lavender
NPCs: Fugue
GM: Applejack

A drug-induced darkness… Silence. Nothing. Floating in the limbo of the void. It's out of this state that the senses of a particular little filly begin to come back. Sound first. Harsh pounding, metallic scraping, those are the first sounds to greet waking ears. Then come the whispers. Little, soft, very foal-ish whispers surrounding this consciousness. All exaggerated to nearly hangover-ish levels.

Sight comes next, slowly fading in from dark shapes to brighter colors. So many shapes around, all blurry, so difficult to focus on! Like ones eyes simply refuse to finish the job of seeing things, settling on formless blobs of color. One thing's for certain! This little filly is not alone, and whatever those blobs are, there's quite a few of them whispering back and forth.

The filly groans and attempts to flop over, her first impulse being to pull her pillow over her head to protect herself from her siblings. That's what she normally does when she's recovering from a hangover and surrounded by other foals. But…No, her pillow is not here, and this is not her bed. She groans, tries to pull herself to her feet, then slumps back down. "Where am I?" she slurs, as she looks from side to side, the colors still blurring together.

"Oh! She's moving..!" "She isn't like us at all…" "Where's her wings?" "She's weird." "Oh yeah? You're weird." "Am not!" "Are too!" "Dare you to poke her…"

Little things like this continue unabated by the question, though one of the shapes in particular does step a little closer. "You're in the Pit of Despair…" the shape says in the fakest raspy voice it can manage. Followed immediately by a couple coughs.

"Hey! I thought we were calling this place the Dungeon of Dreadfulness!" "Pfff. It's the Torture Chamber!" "/I/ like the Oubliette of Awful." "You don't even know what that means!" "Do too! It's a deep, dark, hole in the ground!" "Kinda like home?" "But Awful!" Many giggles erupt at this exchange.

"Anyway…" the closest shape says. It's a colt's voice, at least. "You're somewhere. We're not sure where, but it's somewhere we shouldn't be."

Lavender scrapes around for her sword as she tries again to sit up, this time at least managing to prop herself up (swordlessly). She squints. "S…Snakebite? No, you're all too young… You're not… Are you more of his captives?" she asks, as she makes the connection, blinking away the delerium, the world swimming into focus as she starts to get her bearings at last.

Things are getting clearer… The first thing young eyes should notice is that all those dark blobs were more or less of similar shape. Pony. With…bat-shaped wings. And small. Foals? Foals. Foals! Quite a few of them, too. Not all of them in the same cell.

Cell? Oh right. This is something of a prison, isn't it. At least that's what it looks like at first glance, with a few decent-sized bar-lined blocks of cells for all the foals to sit around in. It's like a small army of little winged foals of many darkish and bold colors.

The colt nearby sits straighter than most of the other foals, wings tucked neatly behind himself, slitted eyes watching the propped filly intently. He's not nearly as jovial as the other foals lurking in their respective cells. Most of which look more bored than anything. The colt in particular is a deep purple pony with bright green eyes and black highlights for muzzle and hooftips. His mane is a slightly lighter shade of purple, cut short, with a little bob for a tail. There's no cutiemark to speak of.

The colt furrows his brow. "Snakebite.." he repeats. "I..don't know. I guess that's the name of the pony that brought us all here."

"Yeah, that jerk…" another foal from the next cell over chimes. "I never did get the candy he promised me."

The colt makes a face, though it quickly turns into a more curious expression, studying his newest cellmate. "But we're not his prisoners…"

Lavender fumes a little, even blushes. "Yeah, I guess candy is his thing, huh. He tried to lure me with candy too. Candy on top of a pile of gold. I didn't fall for it though. I poked at it from a distance, it just wasn't…far enough." She stomps the ground. "Well next time I'll pound him good. So the question is, how are we going to get out of here," she asks as she looks around, as though it's really that simple.

And as she finally takes in her new companions completely, a new question comes to mind: "And uh, not to be entirely too rude or anything. But can I ask…What…are you? I thought Snakebite, the one who caught me, was in some kind of costume, or magic, or one of a kind. Are you all like that? I…" She looks down, then back up again, "I'm sorry, I'm forgetting myself. My name's Lavender. I wish we met somewhere better."

The colt looks ponderous under the onslaught of comments and questions! He's nodding slowly to the description of enticements, but before he can really answer any of that introductions begin! There's a look of surprise, and then admonishment on the colt's face, his ears splayed out. "Of course, how could I forget?" It doesn't last long, as he sits up to his full height (which isn't /that/ impressive for a kid, but hey, he'll grow into it), his wings extended to their fullest. He bows his head once. "I am Fugue, of the Bric-a-Brac Cave. Son of Phantom and Opera." His voice drops a little in volume. "Our leaders."

He straightens up again, and this time there's a smile! A smile showing the most adorable little bat-fangs ever just poking out over his lower lip. There's some bit of 'upperclass' at work there somewhere. "As for what I am… The last time I checked I was a pony." That smile may be smirking. Just a little. "We are all pony, aren't we? We just live somewhere different, that's all." That's about where his mirth ends though, the colt retracting his wings and adopting a slightly more casual posture. "Anyway I don't know how we are going to escape yet. We've only recently begun to be let out of these cells to do things. Not enough time to plan anything…"

Lavender nods, "It's good to meet you Fugue… Wait, so, they're keeping us here…and then they're letting us out too? What are they keeping us here for? I mean, what's the purpose of all of this kidnapping, and why is it just foals?" She spends the whole time peering at the batpony closely, getting a good look. It can't possibly be polite.

This curiousness! Fugue suffers it regally for about the first minute, but then he gets a concerned look and starts fluttering his wings. "They let us out so we can run." he states, maybe a little more shortly than he meant. "I don't know why… These ponies are kind of odd, to be honest. I mean, we can fly!"

"Most of us can anyway!" one of the other foals pipes up, prompting a chorus of giggles.

Fugue manages not to grin, but only barely. He's trying very hard to be grown-up in this first meeting with a strange new filly! "But they want us to run, and they gave us food afterwards."

"And ice cream!" another foal chimes. "And gave us some toys if we ran really fast!"

Fugue actually frowns this time, glancing towards the cell with the batpony who did, holding a shiny new toy train up for all to see, and then promptly disappearing into his cell with a 'choo choo' sound. Fugue, obviously, didn't earn one of those toys. "…Anyway I don't know why." he says in a rush, ears folding back. "We're just here…"

Lavender glances over towards the winningest pony and doesn't quite stifle a giggle. Then she seriouses back towards Fugue. "This whole thing, it's very…very forboding. Where I come from, I'm known as an adventurer and a mighty pirate. I can deal with being trapped. But not knowing what's going on, not knowing why we're even here?… That, I'm not as good at." Sulky face.

Fugue sneaks making a face at the cell with the 'winning' ponies, turning it into a more innocent licking of his ponyish muzzle, fangs and all, eyes rolled towards the ceiling. "Well that's what it is." he states, offering a wan sort of smile. "Unknown. But you wil lfind out soon, I think, the next time they let us all out."

"Wow, a pirate! Really?" one of the other foals says, a tiny face pressed up against bars between cells. "Can you pick locks? Ooh ooh, can you do a pirate laugh? Or a backflip?" "Pfff, anypony can backflip." the foal behind the Eager Foal states. "Nuh-uh! My little brother tried to backflip once and landed on his wing! He couldn't fly for a month!" the Eager Foal huffs.

Fugue sighs. It's so hard to keep a good air of mystery and grown-up poise with all the interruptions. Also he's now suddenly jealous that someone else asked about the pirate bit first. He chooses to trot over to a corner of the cell, making three turns in one of the piles of hay so he can settle down into it, wings stretched. "It's only a matter of time before my father finds out where we are and rescues everybody anyway…" he mutters.

The dread pirate Lavender gives a grin, "Well. That's only if we don't bust out ourselves first." She circles around to the bars between the cells. "Wellll~, I can't pick locks, but I can do a pretty good pirate laugh! At least I've been practicing one and everything. Though it's better with a good eyepatch and hat and stuff." She throws her head back, "Arrr har har har harrr!"

"Ooooooh good laugh…!" the happy little filly says, eyes wide and awestruck! "Do it again, do it again!"

Fugue, meanwhile, tucks his wings a little tighter against his back. "We'll see what happens first…" he says quietly, watching the laughing filly for a long moment. So very curious!