Cloudbreak IC: Glimpse of the sky

[BlasTech]

"Well - yes. Obviously. I, too, demand answers!" said Luminark, rolling with it. "I demand both answers and the extraction of justice upon wretched faces! Who killed me emotionally by way of killing my good friend Beaker! What do you think I've been saying all this time? Fortunately I have acquired a device which will allow me to locate the malefactor." Luminark produced from his robes the lovely little ding-device. "Come! Let us wander the corridors in the form of an angry mob until this thing goes 'bing'!"

That ought to de-escalate the situation, he thought.

Normally, I'd look for some kind of roll to help control this crowd.

But what the hay, I like angry mobs too much.

With a short break to find a sufficient supply of torches and scientific gardening implements, the mob reforms and is ready to go. All it needs is a direction.

While they start polishing off their mob chants, you have a decision to make: Where do you go first?

[Elanorin]

"Hey, now, of course I -- wait, this is a test isn't it?" replies Bitter Pill, brushing your hoof away.

"Ahem. Resource allocation is determined by the Administrator's office. No matter what I think, I couldn't give him anything from the reserved stocks."

"No. It's not a test," Milliway said. The good mood brought on by Tourniquet and Laughing Gas was fading and the need to take out her discomfort and frustration on something was beginning to return.

"Tell me," she insisted, taking a few steps closer, "what do you think about Scrapscallion?" She was a little surprised herself at the sound of her voice as she asked the question, "After all, he saved the Administrator too."

And with that she carefully took off her mask and looked up at Bitter Pill with her horrible and scarred face.

[s-harm if it's the first time he sees me unmasked]

[Thanqol]

Normally, I'd look for some kind of roll to help control this crowd.

But what the hay, I like angry mobs too much.

With a short break to find a sufficient supply of torches and scientific gardening implements, the mob reforms and is ready to go. All it needs is a direction.

While they start polishing off their mob chants, you have a decision to make: Where do you go first?

Luminark doesn't really think he's going to blunder into this stealthy pony by accident during a mob search. He does figure if he marches them around for long enough everypony will get tuckered out and go home, at which point he can do some late night investigations on his own time. If he finds the pony, bonus, but he's not expecting to.

So he's going to first off lead them down to the morgue/mom's workshop where they'll drop off the body (and say hi, and apologise for not calling more often). Then he's going to lead them in a spiralling and inefficient search of the bunker that isn't so important as to where it goes other than in keeping the ponies away from the library. He'll lean into various ideas - if somepony wants to check out the kitchens he'll be like 'yes, the kitchens, let us go there!' even if that means a whole bunch of back-tracking.

[BlasTech]

"No. It's not a test," Milliway said. The good mood brought on by Tourniquet and Laughing Gas was fading and the need to take out her discomfort and frustration on something was beginning to return.

"Tell me," she insisted, taking a few steps closer, "what do you think about Scrapscallion?" She was a little surprised herself at the sound of her voice as she asked the question, "After all, he saved the Administrator too."

And with that she carefully took off her mask and looked up at Bitter Pill with her horrible and scarred face.

[s-harm if it's the first time he sees me unmasked]

It is indeed the first time he's seen you unmasked. Despite a voice that sounds like something out of a hard-boiled detective movie, Bitter Pill's constitution doesn't appear to be up to the task. The colt's eyes roll back into his head and he drops to the ground.

Talk about rude!

Anyway, you have a brief period where you're alone in the pharmacy. What do you do?

Luminark doesn't really think he's going to blunder into this stealthy pony by accident during a mob search. He does figure if he marches them around for long enough everypony will get tuckered out and go home, at which point he can do some late night investigations on his own time. If he finds the pony, bonus, but he's not expecting to.

So he's going to first off lead them down to the morgue/mom's workshop where they'll drop off the body (and say hi, and apologise for not calling more often). Then he's going to lead them in a spiralling and inefficient search of the bunker that isn't so important as to where it goes other than in keeping the ponies away from the library. He'll lean into various ideas - if somepony wants to check out the kitchens he'll be like 'yes, the kitchens, let us go there!' even if that means a whole bunch of back-tracking.

Well hold yer horses for a moment there Luminark.

An angry mob isn't just your average rowdy bunch of disgruntled pensioners. It's a proper, right roaring, path of destruction! I mean, you've got a whole bunch of chemistry ponies here such as Big Bang who have just seen one of their colleagues killed, and who also have the usual assortment of grudges against the other departments.

Are you really going to let them dictate which sections of the bunker they "visit"? They'll probably head off to teach those darn physicists a lesson or two. First by torching Doc Kleiner's office, followed by breaking the matter spectrometers and hiding all the bosons under a couch.

What do you do?

[Balmas]

The landscape is rolling away in front of you two, as the Peregrine eats up the distance at a prodigious rate. Fortunately, you'll arrive at your destination soon - roughly at the time you finish your conversation with each other.

Narrative time dilation is weird like that. There's actually a sub-department of the physics wing that is studying it and its effects - their goal to be able to leverage these strange properties into useful objects; like a robot that can automatically deal with the creatures that seem to attack travellers once per journey, or armour that can protect an interesting pony against certain death.

Needless to say it's not been an especially respected line of inquiry, but the department's motto is We do what we can, because we must after all. Maybe, amidst all the junk and stupid ideas, they might have turned out something that's applicable to up-gunning the peregrine.

Either that, or they might be able to help Scraps get the parts to have the vertibuck up and running. That's pretty much thirty feet of armoured, automated menace right there.

Pshaw. Vertibucks are the tools of the Pink One. I wouldn't trust that thing to carry Scrapscallion any more than I'd trust Scrapscallion to run an experiment. No, this is the kind of thing that can only be trusted to trusty, reliable, unicorn magic. After all, why bother with physics when you can grab the universe by the reins and tell it to giddy up?

Still, that plot armor sounds like a good--and maybe a bit sexy--bit of technology to research, once I retake my home. For now, though, I'll keep my eyes open for MAS stations to loot.

If I do cackle a little bit as I plot, hopefully Scrapscallion will have the good grace not to comment on it. It's quite inconsiderate to interrupt evil laughter.

[Thanqol]

Well hold yer horses for a moment there Luminark.

I can't hold my horses! That's the problem!

An angry mob isn't just your average rowdy bunch of disgruntled pensioners. It's a proper, right roaring, path of destruction! I mean, you've got a whole bunch of chemistry ponies here such as Big Bang who have just seen one of their colleagues killed, and who also have the usual assortment of grudges against the other departments.

Are you really going to let them dictate which sections of the bunker they "visit"? They'll probably head off to teach those darn physicists a lesson or two. First by torching Doc Kleiner's office, followed by breaking the matter spectrometers and hiding all the bosons under a couch.

What do you do?

Luminark is of the firm opinion that forming a rampaging angry mob should be a community building experience, not that other thing. So when he sees things start to go down the wrong way he does what he needs to and calls out the Friendship Patrol or whatever he'd renamed them as (Friendship McFriendlyfaces?). And they may be smaller in number than they used to be, but at the same time this isn't like the entire bunker is rioting, only Chemistry is really mad. So Luminark ducks away for a minute and comes back with his loyalists who are still all in better shape than the dumpy academics and are generally just salivating for an excuse to knock some heads again.

He's happy to lead around an organized procession but the instructions are clear to keep it getting out of hoof.

[Leadership to get 'em to hold discipline: 8]

[Elanorin]

It is indeed the first time he's seen you unmasked. Despite a voice that sounds like something out of a hard-boiled detective movie, Bitter Pill's constitution doesn't appear to be up to the task. The colt's eyes roll back into his head and he drops to the ground.

Talk about rude!

Anyway, you have a brief period where you're alone in the pharmacy. What do you do?

Pocket painkillers.

Put mask back on.

Then sit down by the collapsed Bitter Pill and place his head in my lap, gently stroking little patterns on it with the tip of my hoof.

[Rolling In-brain puppet strings on Bitter Pill: 4+3+2=9 1 hold, Command: Cure Scrapscallion for free.]

[TheAmishPirate]

This is about the cannon, isn't it? Yes, this is totally about the sweet cannon to be installed on his car. How'd he find out my plans? I was busy, dangit. All he needed was to be patient, and it would have come eventually. Now the silly colt's acting out to try to get his attention.

"I'm sure you are. And you're sick, about to head into a city that turns your bones to sludge. How far to Canterlot at this point, anyway?"

Well, I'll show him. I'll equip his car with the best darn cannon, one befitting a pony who's saved my ponies twice now! I'm going to take a dive into my mental labyrinth, organization be damned, and look for something about pre-war energy weapons. I want something to turn this pizza delivery bike into thirty feet of armored, automated menace. It's the least I can do for the Bunker's hero.

Open My Mind: [roll0]

"Sooner than later, later than a bit." The Scrapscallion shrugged. He knew how long a trip to Canterlot ought to feel, and it hadn't felt that long yet, so they still had some time. "And I turn knees to sludge, so hey! I'll be in good company."

Wink!

If I do cackle a little bit as I plot, hopefully Scrapscallion will have the good grace not to comment on it. It's quite inconsiderate to interrupt evil laughter.

What, do you think he was raised in a barn? The big laugh is a big moment; you don't take that away from somepony. It's just not right.

"So how do you know the way to Canterlot?" He asked, after an appropriate period of cackle-free silence. "You been there before?"

It's a valid question; despite the name, the Wasteland isn't a flat plane with the odd lump of civilization. There's cliffs, mountains, tangled heaps of rubble, all sorts of terrain that even a hoverbike'll have trouble with. Not to mention whole zones you steer clear from, unless you're bored and hankering for a Deathclaw race. Which is a lot like a normal race, except you get eaten by Deathclaws if you lose. Not everypony can just take the wheel and successfully drive to Canterlot.

[Balmas]

"Sooner than later, later than a bit." The Scrapscallion shrugged. He knew how long a trip to Canterlot ought to feel, and it hadn't felt that long yet, so they still had some time. "And I turn knees to sludge, so hey! I'll be in good company."

Wink!

Okay, there's happy-go-lucky, there's devil-may-care grit, and then there's straight-up depressive behavior. Something's definitely wrong with my little scav-pony. Keep him talking, that's the key.

[Read a pony: 5,5,+2: [12.] Holding three.]

What, do you think he was raised in a barn? The big laugh is a big moment; you don't take that away from somepony. It's just not right.

"So how do you know the way to Canterlot?" He asked, after an appropriate period of cackle-free silence. "You been there before?"

It's a valid question; despite the name, the Wasteland isn't a flat plane with the odd lump of civilization. There's cliffs, mountains, tangled heaps of rubble, all sorts of terrain that even a hoverbike'll have trouble with. Not to mention whole zones you steer clear from, unless you're bored and hankering for a Deathclaw race. Which is a lot like a normal race, except you get eaten by Deathclaws if you lose. Not everypony can just take the wheel and successfully drive to Canterlot.

"You know, you wouldn't believe it, but the Beforetimes was incredibly stingy with its wartime resources? Couldn't just say, 'MAGIC! without ethics,' and be given a sack of gold. No, they needed proposals, and grants, and reasonable accounting of resources spent to magics developed. Bah! My way is obviously better." I snort. "Besides, it's not like it's exactly hard to miss a massive mountain full of unicorns with a collective stick up their plots, all covered in a glowing pink shield."

[TheAmishPirate]

"You know, you wouldn't believe it, but the Beforetimes was incredibly stingy with its wartime resources? Couldn't just say, 'MAGIC! without ethics,' and be given a sack of gold. No, they needed proposals, and grants, and reasonable accounting of resources spent to magics developed. Bah! My way is obviously better." I snort. "Besides, it's not like it's exactly hard to miss a massive mountain full of unicorns with a collective stick up their plots, all covered in a glowing pink shield."

The Scrapscallion gives a low whistle that keeps on going and going and going and going and gosh he can hold a lot of air in his lungs for a little pony but then he starts listing to one side and the Peregrine with him and just at the last moment before disaster he sucks in a huge breath and smoothly rights the ship again. "Wow. Forgot you'd been around, like, every block before. Gotta be the face; you don't look a day over infinity."

Wink! Again!

"I mean, I usually just wing these things, but hey! I'm down for trying 'knowing where I am and where I'm going.' Be bad if life got stale, amiright?"

[Balmas]

"Gotta be the face; you don't look a day over infinity."

Wink! Again!

Yep, that's definitely some suicidal behavior right there. Wink!

Let's spend one of that hold to ask, what is Scrapscallion really feeling?

"I mean, I usually just wing these things, but hey! I'm down for trying 'knowing where I am and where I'm going.' Be bad if life got stale, amiright?"

"I strive to allow my ponies to live in peace, despite trying times. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that scientific progress cannot take place in a hostile environment."

[BlasTech]

Luminark is of the firm opinion that forming a rampaging angry mob should be a community building experience, not that other thing. So when he sees things start to go down the wrong way he does what he needs to and calls out the Friendship Patrol or whatever he'd renamed them as (Friendship McFriendlyfaces?). And they may be smaller in number than they used to be, but at the same time this isn't like the entire bunker is rioting, only Chemistry is really mad. So Luminark ducks away for a minute and comes back with his loyalists who are still all in better shape than the dumpy academics and are generally just salivating for an excuse to knock some heads again.

He's happy to lead around an organized procession but the instructions are clear to keep it getting out of hoof.

[Leadership to get 'em to hold discipline: 8]

Well, it's messy, but it works. Boss and Forced Smile only have rough up Big Bang and Bunsen a bit in order to get the chemistry department back into line. They don't look too happy though, so you'll probably hear about that later.

In any event, your mob makes its way down to the crypts (which, I should mention, are nearby but distinct from the morgue that Doc Bones runs … kind of morgue-adjacent, if you will). The crypt doors are closed, but an enterprising rioter prods the intercom with a hoof.

"Who is it?" it buzzes.

"Uh, it's an angry mob?" the colt volunteers. "Oh and your son Luminark is here too."

"... just a minute"

As they wait, the crowd mills about awkwardly. A few of the ponies start up a side conversation about whether the mob really qualifies as angry, or if it is just mildly irate. Eventually, the door hisses, unlocking, and Ooky Spooky exits, looking over the assembled crowd with a bemused expression.

What do you do?

Pocket painkillers.

Put mask back on.

Then sit down by the collapsed Bitter Pill and place his head in my lap, gently stroking little patterns on it with the tip of my hoof.

[Rolling In-brain puppet strings on Bitter Pill: 4+3+2=9 1 hold, Command: Cure Scrapscallion for free.]

Bitter Pill twitches slightly as your command takes hold.

Before he wakes, though, Laughing Gas enters the pharmacy.

"Ma'am" he nods, barely sparing a glance for your odd patting of Bitter Pill's head. "We've started rounding up a few of the more enthusiastic of the unemployed, but there's something going on upstairs you should probably know about: Looks like a riot of some kind - at least they've got the torches and pitchforks, but it looks like they're mostly behaving. The administrator's leading them."

"What do you want us to do about it?"

[Thanqol]

Well, it's messy, but it works. Boss and Forced Smile only have rough up Big Bang and Bunsen a bit in order to get the chemistry department back into line. They don't look too happy though, so you'll probably hear about that later.

In any event, your mob makes its way down to the crypts (which, I should mention, are nearby but distinct from the morgue that Doc Bones runs … kind of morgue-adjacent, if you will). The crypt doors are closed, but an enterprising rioter prods the intercom with a hoof.

"Who is it?" it buzzes.

"Uh, it's an angry mob?" the colt volunteers. "Oh and your son Luminark is here too."

"... just a minute"

As they wait, the crowd mills about awkwardly. A few of the ponies start up a side conversation about whether the mob really qualifies as angry, or if it is just mildly irate. Eventually, the door hisses, unlocking, and Ooky Spooky exits, looking over the assembled crowd with a bemused expression.

What do you do?

Well, first Luminark hugs his mum and gives her some flowers he picked from the outside and tells her he loves her. Luminark was raised properly.

And then, with the exact same slightly-sheepish look of a kid who's shown up on his mum's doorstop with a bag of dirty laundry, he levitates over Beaker's corpse. "So, um, mum, there's a mildly irate mob of ponies who want to find out who killed this pony in the library. And I tried myself but I totally goofed it, and I was hoping you could help." Unspoken: And we both know that I'm not trusting that hack Doc Bones with this kind of thing.

It was only at this point that the penny really dropped in the back of Luminark's head. He could think of plenty of reasons for mysterious cloaked murderers to sneak into the Library, but what was Beaker doing in there unsupervised that he could get killed in the first place?

[Elanorin]

Bitter Pill twitches slightly as your command takes hold.

Before he wakes, though, Laughing Gas enters the pharmacy.

"Ma'am" he nods, barely sparing a glance for your odd patting of Bitter Pill's head. "We've started rounding up a few of the more enthusiastic of the unemployed, but there's something going on upstairs you should probably know about: Looks like a riot of some kind - at least they've got the torches and pitchforks, but it looks like they're mostly behaving. The administrator's leading them."

"What do you want us to do about it?"

Milliway blinked.

Just when you thought he could not surprise you any more.

"A riot?" she looked up and stared at Laughing Gas incredulously. "Against who? He's the Administrator- he can't- it's- a riot is- oh for crying out loud!" She gently set Bitter Pill's head down, tucking whatever spare lab coat, blanket or packets of bandages were around by way of pillow. She got up and stomped heavy metal stomps through the Pharmacy towards the exit.

"Is it just me or is this highly advanced science research bunker feeling more and more like bloody kindergarten?" she grumbled and kicked the door open.

Then she paused, just outside the door, "You said they're mostly behaving? As in not posing an immediate and concerning threat to other bunker ponies? As in the Administrator is busy with some messed up semi-peaceful protest- against who the mind boggles- and with little or no watch on his stockpile of requisitioned Patrol weaponry?" The wicked smile spreading on her lips was hidden by her mask but could be heard in her voice.

[BlasTech]

Well, first Luminark hugs his mum and gives her some flowers he picked from the outside and tells her he loves her. Luminark was raised properly.

And then, with the exact same slightly-sheepish look of a kid who's shown up on his mum's doorstop with a bag of dirty laundry, he levitates over Beaker's corpse. "So, um, mum, there's a mildly irate mob of ponies who want to find out who killed this pony in the library. And I tried myself but I totally goofed it, and I was hoping you could help." Unspoken: And we both know that I'm not trusting that hack Doc Bones with this kind of thing.

It was only at this point that the penny really dropped in the back of Luminark's head. He could think of plenty of reasons for mysterious cloaked murderers to sneak into the Library, but what was Beaker doing in there unsupervised that he could get killed in the first place?

Who knows? I'd suggest opening your brain to Beaker, but you've already done that.

Maybe you want to open your brain in some different fashion?

In either case. Your mother levitates Beaker's body away from you with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Of course, you know I'd do anything for you darling." she says, looking around the crowd. "That said, why in Equestria is there an angry mob behind you today?"

Milliway blinked.

Just when you thought he could not surprise you any more.

"A riot?" she looked up and stared at Laughing Gas incredulously. "Against who? He's the Administrator- he can't- it's- a riot is- oh for crying out loud!" She gently set Bitter Pill's head down, tucking whatever spare lab coat, blanket or packets of bandages were around by way of pillow. She got up and stomped heavy metal stomps through the Pharmacy towards the exit.

"Is it just me or is this highly advanced science research bunker feeling more and more like bloody kindergarten?" she grumbled and kicked the door open.

Then she paused, just outside the door, "You said they're mostly behaving? As in not posing an immediate and concerning threat to other bunker ponies? As in the Administrator is busy with some messed up semi-peaceful protest- against who the mind boggles- and with little or no watch on his stockpile of requisitioned Patrol weaponry?" The wicked smile spreading on her lips was hidden by her mask but could be heard in her voice.

"Uh, maybe?" replies Tourniquet "Most of the patrol are probably following him, but he's never really been using them to guard the weapon pile. I think he had something else set up."

[Thanqol]

Who knows? I'd suggest opening your brain to Beaker, but you've already done that.

Maybe you want to open your brain in some different fashion?

In either case. Your mother levitates Beaker's body away from you with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Of course, you know I'd do anything for you darling." she says, looking around the crowd. "That said, why in Equestria is there an angry mob behind you today?"

"Some of them also want to find who killed Beaker," said Luminark. "Some of them are just going with the flow. Did you need some time? We can wait."

Waiting would be just as fine as an immediate answer. Luminark's goal is to stop there being an angry mob, and it's as good for that if they all get bored and go home as if they find the culprit.

[Elanorin]

"Uh, maybe?" replies Tourniquet "Most of the patrol are probably following him, but he's never really been using them to guard the weapon pile. I think he had something else set up."

"Either way, let's go." Milliway waved him over. "Let's grab a few recruits and hit the armoury."

[TheAmishPirate]

Yep, that's definitely some suicidal behavior right there. Wink!

Let's spend one of that hold to ask, what is Scrapscallion really feeling?

This pony's heart hasn't been so much broken, as it's been replaced with a smoldering crater. He's trying desperately to fill it up with thrills and adventure, but it's like pouring water into a sieve. He's riding high now, but he's perpetually five minutes away from a catastrophic emotional breakdown. The kind that's generally cured with booze, cartons of ice cream, unleashing an army of deathbots on those who wronged you, or some combination of the three.

(I'd say the deathbot route is unlikely, but Scraps is new at this. You never know until you try.)

Given that the Scrapscallion couldn't even spell 'committed relationship', I leave it up to you - and your remaining questions - to figure out the cause.

"I strive to allow my ponies to live in peace, despite trying times. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that scientific progress cannot take place in a hostile environment."

"So it's not hostile if, like, they didn't mean to blow up the Chemistry Department?" He asked seriously. "'Cause let's just say I don't gotta go far if I'm looking for an explosion to not look at."

[BlasTech]

"Some of them also want to find who killed Beaker," said Luminark. "Some of them are just going with the flow. Did you need some time? We can wait."

Waiting would be just as fine as an immediate answer. Luminark's goal is to stop there being an angry mob, and it's as good for that if they all get bored and go home as if they find the culprit.

"I would need a short while." Ooky replied, unable to take her eyes from the mob. "It might be best if you came back tomorrow."

"Are you … sure you're okay?" she continued. "I can't imagine a mob like this is part of a normal administratorship. Are you certain you might not prefer to take a break for a while? You look a little stressed."

"Either way, let's go." Milliway waved him over. "Let's grab a few recruits and hit the armoury."

Well off you go then.

Luminark. What kind of setup do they find when they reach the stockpile?

[Balmas]

This pony's heart hasn't been so much broken, as it's been replaced with a smoldering crater. He's trying desperately to fill it up with thrills and adventure, but it's like pouring water into a sieve. He's riding high now, but he's perpetually five minutes away from a catastrophic emotional breakdown. The kind that's generally cured with booze, cartons of ice cream, unleashing an army of deathbots on those who wronged you, or some combination of the three.

(I'd say the deathbot route is unlikely, but Scraps is new at this. You never know until you try.)

Given that the Scrapscallion couldn't even spell 'committed relationship', I leave it up to you - and your remaining questions - to figure out the cause.

All that, huh? Jeez, I thought the only minefields I had to worry about were the ones around the nursery. Obviously, I want to postpone the inevitable meltdown until we're not, you know, flying at ludicrous speed over probable melty death. Or, at least, until I can find an army of deathbots with which to wreak emotionally fulfilling vengeance. That's far more healthy than alcohol.

Spend one hold: How can I get Scrapscallion to be emotionally stable for the duration of this mission?

"So it's not hostile if, like, they didn't mean to blow up the Chemistry Department?" He asked seriously. "'Cause let's just say I don't gotta go far if I'm looking for an explosion to not look at."

I groan, and flop against the bulkhead. "Honestly, I've tried to get the Chemistry and Alchemistry departments to stop blowing each other up. I'm not even sure whether it's warfare or foreplay for them at this point. Either way, not much science is occuring while the departments rebuild each other. The point stands."

[Thanqol]

"I would need a short while." Ooky replied, unable to take her eyes from the mob. "It might be best if you came back tomorrow."

"Are you … sure you're okay?" she continued. "I can't imagine a mob like this is part of a normal administratorship. Are you certain you might not prefer to take a break for a while? You look a little stressed."

"I am, yes," said Luminark. "It's an awful lot of paperwork and politics and I've already fixed the thing I took over to fix. I'm currently working on devolving responsibility and getting everypony to look after themselves but," he made a hoof wiggle sign. "It's a process. I'll be quitting as soon as the place won't fall over without me."

Well off you go then.

Luminark. What kind of setup do they find when they reach the stockpile?

Empty with a Library check-in receipt.

Maybe that'd actually be enough to check it out, actually. But you'd have to go through the formal protocols and the process would be weird. Pretty sure one of the trials to withdraw a book is fighting a clone of yourself in the house of mirrors. That kind of thing.

[TheAmishPirate]

All that, huh? Jeez, I thought the only minefields I had to worry about were the ones around the nursery. Obviously, I want to postpone the inevitable meltdown until we're not, you know, flying at ludicrous speed over probable melty death. Or, at least, until I can find an army of deathbots with which to wreak emotionally fulfilling vengeance. That's far more healthy than alcohol.

Spend one hold: How can I get Scrapscallion to be emotionally stable for the duration of this mission?

Important clarification: By "mission", do you mean "until we get home to the Bunker" or "until we've found someplace safe to land?"

[Balmas]

Important clarification: By "mission", do you mean "until we get home to the Bunker" or "until we've found someplace safe to land?"

Mostly I mean the former. I want to help the Scrapscallion confront his broken heart--maybe with a replacement cybernetic part--but it's safer to do that in a place where a sudden emotional problem won't have immediate, agonizing consequences.

[BlasTech]

"I am, yes," said Luminark. "It's an awful lot of paperwork and politics and I've already fixed the thing I took over to fix. I'm currently working on devolving responsibility and getting everypony to look after themselves but," he made a hoof wiggle sign. "It's a process. I'll be quitting as soon as the place won't fall over without me."

"That's a relief." replies your mom, who pauses in thought. "I want to help, but what would you need to get this done?"

That's nice of her, right? Is she often pitching in to your projects without request?

Empty with a Library check-in receipt.

Maybe that'd actually be enough to check it out, actually. But you'd have to go through the formal protocols and the process would be weird. Pretty sure one of the trials to withdraw a book is fighting a clone of yourself in the house of mirrors. That kind of thing.

Okay then. Well, Milliway, what do you do when you find the armoury empty - but for the check in receipt?

Are you willing to tackle the library over this?

[Thanqol]

"That's a relief." replies your mom, who pauses in thought. "I want to help, but what would you need to get this done?"

That's nice of her, right? Is she often pitching in to your projects without request?

It's a bit weird. Ooky Spooky is definitely The Responsible One of his parents, but she's still a powerful necromancer. She certainly doesn't have much interest in temporal politics.

"Well," Luminark said a bit thoughtfully. "The problem is essentially that I'm looking to undermine my own power while not becoming so weak I get overthrown by another would-be tyrant or creating an unstable balance of power that results in a war. The previous Administrator's flaws aside, she had a unique ability to rule the bunker as a singular figure and anypony else who tries to maintain that level of obsessive control will just be a worse version of her.

"I think what I need more than anything is to get everypony excited about going outside. If they all go out in different directions and gather resources and power then that will naturally make the Administrator role increasingly less relevant. Build them up to peers rather than self destruct and leave a power vacuum. Problem is they're all so timid none of them are willing to go out unprompted."

You'd think that living in the Library - which had an entire filing cabinet full of monkey paws - Luminark would be a little more careful about how he phrased problems in the presence of powerful wizards.

[BlasTech]

Yeah, you'd think that wouldn't you. Oh well! Can't make an omelette without reanimating a few dead eggs after all.

"I see, I see." ruminates Ooky. "Well, I'll let you know as soon as I find anything about your dead body here. In the meantime, it would be beneficial if you can direct this mob somewhere else. They are somewhat distracting."

She smiles, giving you a quick peck on the head.

"Do visit again soon darling. It's far too long between chats."

With that, she makes to leave back into the crypts. What do you do now?

[Thanqol]

Yeah, you'd think that wouldn't you. Oh well! Can't make an omelette without reanimating a few dead eggs after all.

"I see, I see." ruminates Ooky. "Well, I'll let you know as soon as I find anything about your dead body here. In the meantime, it would be beneficial if you can direct this mob somewhere else. They are somewhat distracting."

She smiles, giving you a quick peck on the head.

"Do visit again soon darling. It's far too long between chats."

With that, she makes to leave back into the crypts. What do you do now?

"Alright everypony," Luminark said, hopping up onto a soap box. "We now have forensic necromancers looking into the murder. We will continue to conduct an investigation in full accordance with the law. Of course, if you want to follow me around all day while I do that you're welcome to but I do want to suggest that maybe you take this opportunity to start making funeral arrangements, or going back to your jobs, or volunteering to help out the Friendship Patrol so that they can investigate more efficiently, or so on."

He was using his most Bored Librarian voice, giving the very clear impression that there was absolutely nothing exciting happening in this process. The momentum had gone out of the mob as most of the ponies started to realize they didn't have either an obvious target or a strong emotional investment in the situation, so Luminark wanted to throw a bucket of cold water on that fire now. Everypony had better things to be doing right now and he was reminding them of that.

Manipulate: 10

[TheAmishPirate]

Mostly I mean the former. I want to help the Scrapscallion confront his broken heart--maybe with a replacement cybernetic part--but it's safer to do that in a place where a sudden emotional problem won't have immediate, agonizing consequences.

Gotcha, gotcha.

So let’s take the practical example; the Chemistry/Alchemy department have - instead of making up/making out - planted a bomb in the other’s department. They’re armed, ready to blow, way too risky to defuse. Do you try and put up a shield to contain the blast? Nooooooooooooo. It takes a tremendous amount of time, effort, and material to keep a blast fully contained, and even then it might damage the floors, the foundation, something you care about. The best way to deal with it is to let it blow up, but under controlled conditions. The bomb goes off, all the personnel are evacuated, sufficient shielding is in blast to direct the explosion in the most harmless of directions, and boom! Problem solved, damage minimal.

Same concept. It’s going to be wayyyyyyyyyyyyyy difficult to keep the emotional explosion contained for the length of this trip. It’d be a much better bet to put down someplace safe - which is easy as saying ‘Scraps, I require a Princess Break, find someplace to put us down’ - and do what you do best; care for your children ponies. Talk him through it, comfort him, let him blow up in a safe environment, and then he should be (relatively) stable after weathering that initial salvo. Stable enough to press on through this mission, with some ego-boosting from his favorite Princess should he ever start to waver.

(Honestly, getting him comfortable and cared for is probably going to be enough to trigger the explosion. Lull him into sitting still long enough for his emotions to catch up.)

Just. Be careful. Remember what happened to Otto? You don’t want to get him more sick than he already is. Keep your distance, in that regard.

Also worth noting; there might be other ways for this to go down, some that may be easier in the short term. But if you’re looking to keep this pony reliable until you get home, this is your best bet. If this isn't quite what you meant, then maybe I can find you a Plan B.

I groan, and flop against the bulkhead. "Honestly, I've tried to get the Chemistry and Alchemistry departments to stop blowing each other up. I'm not even sure whether it's warfare or foreplay for them at this point. Either way, not much science is occuring while the departments rebuild each other. The point stands."

"Huh. Would've figured you'd know if it was make-war or makeouts. You're a Princess, they're your ponies, you're aiming to get them to play nice..." Shrug. What did he know? This was solidly in the realm of Princess Business, which only rarely crossed over into the realm of Scrapscallion Business, such as the Unfortunate Business that had them out road tripping today.

[Elanorin]

Okay then. Well, Milliway, what do you do when you find the armoury empty - but for the check in receipt?

Are you willing to tackle the library over this?

Milliway stares bloody death at the tiny piece of paper.

What was it with scribbled bits of tiny paper holding the deeply unsettling power to utterly ruin her day and her life? Paper sucked. Paper was the root of all the messed up ridiculous mindf'ckery that had fallen her way since she woke up in medical- and she was entirely willing to believe it had been instrumental in all the Crap Stuff that had happened to her before then too.

There should not be any paper.

Milliway took the piece of paper and aggressively smushed it in to a gnarly little lump and ate it.

[Rolling to Open My Brain: 5+5+2=12 Where is my Tesla Claw?]

[Balmas]

Also worth noting; there might be other ways for this to go down, some that may be easier in the short term. But if you’re looking to keep this pony reliable until you get home, this is your best bet. If this isn't quite what you meant, then maybe I can find you a Plan B.

No, no, that's totally workable. Lessee, lessee. Safe place to put down, near Canterhorn, not irradiated. This'd be a lot easier if I'd been outside in the past decade.

Well, I'm sitting next to somebody who has, aren't I?

"Scrapscallion, this may seem awkward, but I'd like to make a detour. See, I remember there being a library around here--had a librarian that was always supremely anal about late fees. And right before the bombs fell, I checked out a copy of Horn Polishing Tips for Fillies. We're going to go down, we're going to find the registry, and we're going to burn it because if anypony has the chutzpah to become a ghoul just to spite me, it's Tight Bun."

Nailed it.