Vergel brought a shaking hand to his right temple and closed his eyes. For a very brief moment in time, the human was no longer in the world where he was forced to accommodate a muffin-obsessed executioner and a 60,000 lb weighing whale of an experiment that can eat anything out of perpetual hunger. He was in a world of warm and primordial darkness for about then blissful seconds, devoid of fat anthropomorphic ponies, but, like all good things, it eventually had to end. While Spitfire gazed at her host before scanning her surroundings as though a neurologist might magically appear, a fiery streak penetrated his skull, trying to force his eyes open. It was a sound, a clarion call from Hell.
Hell sounded a lot like the front porch splintering into a million tiny shards of wood. Project jdsd-DFS-s, who Vergel was going to refer to as JD for convenience, had miraculously maneuvered his colossal body with all the grace and speed of an aircraft carrier around the frozen statue that was his host. His every footfall having shaken the Earth and left deep imprints on the lawn, yet it was only now, when his stomach had been hefted onto the human's front deck, that the human opened his eyes and took notice of the impending disaster. The snow-white furred boulder of fluff and fat turned the wooden floorboards into particles, warped rusty nails into wafers, and shoved aside support columns like they were toothpicks. The scene was almost pornographic, given how lavishly detailed the devastation had occurred in such a short amount of time.
On his end of the horror Vergel was witnessing, JD had the decency to look embarrassed, his face once again reddening to a roseate color. "S-sorry, s-s-sir!" After hearing his human host repress a scream in his throat, the super-soldier apologized, turning around to face him. In the process, his boulder of a belly was dragged along with him, overturning assorted porch furniture, destroying more of the deck, and shoving some debris into a flower bed of begonias nearby. "Y-you, uh...have a lovely home! Um, it's a little hard to get into, but that's okay, right? I'm not t-t-too big, right?" A nervous smile has morphed onto the fifteen-foot tall whale trying to enter Vergel's home, his cheeks growing more prominent from the grin as he shuffled his feet to calm his nerves, inadvertently atomizing the already splintered wood. The human blinked, inhaled through his nose and breathed out through his mouth as Spitfire had done earlier, and shamelessly lied.
"O-of course not, it's not a problem at all," Vergel said with a both forced yet genuine smile that was more intended to alleviate and soothe the nervous wreck of a pony that was in his doorway than voice his true feelings. "Spitfire, here, has assured me that the military would help with any damages that might occur. You're fine." The human then snapped his neck in the direction of the 'medium' sized pony of the trio he was giving lodgings for, who in return pursed her lips and nodded slowly before offering a similar smile to the experimental super-soldier. He still looked quite flustered, but the humiliation was no longer as intense, and with that, things got worse for the home that his host had grown up in. JD groaned as he tried to squeeze himself through the remains of the front door, his prominent rear end thrusting into the air behind him as he bent over as much as he could with his stomach in the way.
Spitfire's hole in place of a doorway was shorter and thinner than JD, and even after bending over, his head and shoulder were pressed up against the ceiling of the 13 feet high room. Whatever pitiful remnants of the former door had already given way, bits of wood and plaster flying off as the surrounding wall cracked and creaked in agony to accommodate JD's girth, and he still wouldn't fit. "Thanks for that, by the way. What you said." Spitfire spoke above a whisper to make sure that the looming horse in front of them couldn't hear her. "He's, um... very conscious about his size. This is his first official deployment after being released from the labs. Though regarding collateral damage..." Spitfire trailed off mid-sentence as, suddenly, bits of the surrounding wall and broken doorway went flying everywhere as JD finally forced his way in.
The massive pony stood in the foyer of Vergel's house, head and shoulders pressed against the ceiling, casting an enormous shadow over the planet's most lethal butcher, Agent 8654794, who Vergel was going to call 86 for the sake of convenience. From JD's height, the grey pony's hypertrophic eye looked to be making direct eye contact with him. "Hiya, big guy!" The cheerful soldier greeted before wrapping her muscle-bound arms around as much of the project's impossibly-sized stomach, the snow-white fluff mushrooming into her muzzle as she squeezed it. JD's shame-riddled face finally morphed away into a genuine smile from the embrace, the only thing stopping him from returning the gesture being the stomach he couldn't get his limbs around. "C'mon, let's go and find you your room!" She exclaimed after releasing herself from the embrace, having lasted half a minute, before gesturing for the walking bulldozer to follow her further into the human's home, prompting a cacophony of groans and moans to come from the building as thirty tons shuffled across its floor.
"...they seem nice." Vergel finally said when the sounds of things falling and breaking that emanated from his house came to a low drone. Half of the 18 pegasi that accompanied his other two guests walked into the building carrying more rations and personal items without asking the human. The other half dispersed the crowd of humans that had gathered around Vergel's home to gawk at their neighbor's plight, sometimes reminding a few of them they had been chosen for 'civilian barracks' as well. "So, Spitfire; I have some Q's, I'd love some A's. Why, at the risk of sounding crass, is a genetically-modified hyper-omnivore and a deceptively harmless-looking liquidator in, not so much my home, but here?" Vergel gestured to his surroundings, to the quaint little hamlet that he had grown up in, the peaceful, quiet life of the countryside, peopled by souls of wise simplicity in a close-knit community. Yes, there was some tension with the, uh, bomb-throwing terrorists, but the army's response seemed to be more than overwhelming.
To Vergel's question, a shadow danced across Spitfire's chubby face as she lowered her voice just a little. "That is a conversation for when are no longer in the open, in your charming, cozy village, where a terrorist cell had taken up hiding as have eyes and ears everywhere in it." The tone in her voice made it clear that it was not up for debate. "Our' enemies' like to hide in quirky small towns, and to the best of our information, this one..." The captain stopped mid-sentence again as she blinked, a puzzled look coming up to her features. At first, the human thought she was making a point, stopping to make sure that no one could hear her talk about sensitive military information. But the silence continued for more than an awkward amount of time, and the realization came upon the beleaguered host like a bucket of water in a drunk's face.
"You forgot the name of the town that you're in." Vergel let out a deep, weary sighed as he felt a headache coming on, not helped by the flustered look Spitfire gave in response, confirming his suspicions. He rubbed his temples and shut his eyes tightly, again, but there was no sweet oblivion for him to escape to this time. "Orchard Park. Pastel-colored suburbia, around five thousand people, famous for all the apple, cherry, pear, and plum trees, thirty miles away from the city. Orchard. Park."
"...Vergel, and when I say this, I don't mean any offense, 'thirty miles from the city' is a euphemism for 'dead-end' in my experience. And out of all the 'uniquely' quasi-urban dead-ends I've seen, this one is by far the most generic." Spitfire huffed with an annoyed roll of her eyes, trying to downplay the blush coming to her cheeks from forgetting the name of her host's home. Vergel, clear as day, could pick up a bit of cosmopolitan arrogance coming into her tone. "You'll have to forgive me when I say this place can't compare with Canterlot and Cloudsdale."
"Oh," To this, Vergel's exacerbation with his situation was distracted as he put on an exaggerated country accent with a slightly smug smile. "It always takes folks from the city a bit of time to decompress. Fortunately for you, this weekend we're holding the annual Fruit Festival. We'll get to see the Orchard Queen Pageant, the Pear Street Parade, the Plum-O-Rama, Cherry Pie, Apple Pie, OTHER pies; you're in luck."
"Oh, be still, my heart." Vergel's antics managed to get Spitfire to crack a smile before she and the human heard yet another loud boom coming from what was likely the warzone inside his house, and she let out a deep sigh. "I still stand by what I said earlier, you know, about the three of us getting along with you. If anything else, things won't be small-town boredom with us around...oh, oh Celestia, you don't have a -...no, no right. Sorry, for a moment, I was panicking if you had a basement. It took us a day to get JD out of-"
Suddenly, Spitfire's golden globe of a stomach let loose a thunderous growl that managed to send shockwaves through her fat, catching her off-guard. "Something tells me I'm going to regret telling you about the Fruit Festival." Vergel deadpanned, as he already envisioned the scene; a hundred ponies going ballistic in a few days over fruit pies and other assorted baked goods in a self-feeding frenzy. He was going to miss the small-town boredom.
Choice 1: Meanwhile, with the neighbors...
Choice 2: JD & 86 acquaint themselves with Vergel's house - destruction ensues.
Choice 3: Vergel & Spitfire stay outside, away from the CHAOS inside.
Hell sounded a lot like the front porch splintering into a million tiny shards of wood. Project jdsd-DFS-s, who Vergel was going to refer to as JD for convenience, had miraculously maneuvered his colossal body with all the grace and speed of an aircraft carrier around the frozen statue that was his host. His every footfall having shaken the Earth and left deep imprints on the lawn, yet it was only now, when his stomach had been hefted onto the human's front deck, that the human opened his eyes and took notice of the impending disaster. The snow-white furred boulder of fluff and fat turned the wooden floorboards into particles, warped rusty nails into wafers, and shoved aside support columns like they were toothpicks. The scene was almost pornographic, given how lavishly detailed the devastation had occurred in such a short amount of time.
On his end of the horror Vergel was witnessing, JD had the decency to look embarrassed, his face once again reddening to a roseate color. "S-sorry, s-s-sir!" After hearing his human host repress a scream in his throat, the super-soldier apologized, turning around to face him. In the process, his boulder of a belly was dragged along with him, overturning assorted porch furniture, destroying more of the deck, and shoving some debris into a flower bed of begonias nearby. "Y-you, uh...have a lovely home! Um, it's a little hard to get into, but that's okay, right? I'm not t-t-too big, right?" A nervous smile has morphed onto the fifteen-foot tall whale trying to enter Vergel's home, his cheeks growing more prominent from the grin as he shuffled his feet to calm his nerves, inadvertently atomizing the already splintered wood. The human blinked, inhaled through his nose and breathed out through his mouth as Spitfire had done earlier, and shamelessly lied.
"O-of course not, it's not a problem at all," Vergel said with a both forced yet genuine smile that was more intended to alleviate and soothe the nervous wreck of a pony that was in his doorway than voice his true feelings. "Spitfire, here, has assured me that the military would help with any damages that might occur. You're fine." The human then snapped his neck in the direction of the 'medium' sized pony of the trio he was giving lodgings for, who in return pursed her lips and nodded slowly before offering a similar smile to the experimental super-soldier. He still looked quite flustered, but the humiliation was no longer as intense, and with that, things got worse for the home that his host had grown up in. JD groaned as he tried to squeeze himself through the remains of the front door, his prominent rear end thrusting into the air behind him as he bent over as much as he could with his stomach in the way.
Spitfire's hole in place of a doorway was shorter and thinner than JD, and even after bending over, his head and shoulder were pressed up against the ceiling of the 13 feet high room. Whatever pitiful remnants of the former door had already given way, bits of wood and plaster flying off as the surrounding wall cracked and creaked in agony to accommodate JD's girth, and he still wouldn't fit. "Thanks for that, by the way. What you said." Spitfire spoke above a whisper to make sure that the looming horse in front of them couldn't hear her. "He's, um... very conscious about his size. This is his first official deployment after being released from the labs. Though regarding collateral damage..." Spitfire trailed off mid-sentence as, suddenly, bits of the surrounding wall and broken doorway went flying everywhere as JD finally forced his way in.
The massive pony stood in the foyer of Vergel's house, head and shoulders pressed against the ceiling, casting an enormous shadow over the planet's most lethal butcher, Agent 8654794, who Vergel was going to call 86 for the sake of convenience. From JD's height, the grey pony's hypertrophic eye looked to be making direct eye contact with him. "Hiya, big guy!" The cheerful soldier greeted before wrapping her muscle-bound arms around as much of the project's impossibly-sized stomach, the snow-white fluff mushrooming into her muzzle as she squeezed it. JD's shame-riddled face finally morphed away into a genuine smile from the embrace, the only thing stopping him from returning the gesture being the stomach he couldn't get his limbs around. "C'mon, let's go and find you your room!" She exclaimed after releasing herself from the embrace, having lasted half a minute, before gesturing for the walking bulldozer to follow her further into the human's home, prompting a cacophony of groans and moans to come from the building as thirty tons shuffled across its floor.
"...they seem nice." Vergel finally said when the sounds of things falling and breaking that emanated from his house came to a low drone. Half of the 18 pegasi that accompanied his other two guests walked into the building carrying more rations and personal items without asking the human. The other half dispersed the crowd of humans that had gathered around Vergel's home to gawk at their neighbor's plight, sometimes reminding a few of them they had been chosen for 'civilian barracks' as well. "So, Spitfire; I have some Q's, I'd love some A's. Why, at the risk of sounding crass, is a genetically-modified hyper-omnivore and a deceptively harmless-looking liquidator in, not so much my home, but here?" Vergel gestured to his surroundings, to the quaint little hamlet that he had grown up in, the peaceful, quiet life of the countryside, peopled by souls of wise simplicity in a close-knit community. Yes, there was some tension with the, uh, bomb-throwing terrorists, but the army's response seemed to be more than overwhelming.
To Vergel's question, a shadow danced across Spitfire's chubby face as she lowered her voice just a little. "That is a conversation for when are no longer in the open, in your charming, cozy village, where a terrorist cell had taken up hiding as have eyes and ears everywhere in it." The tone in her voice made it clear that it was not up for debate. "Our' enemies' like to hide in quirky small towns, and to the best of our information, this one..." The captain stopped mid-sentence again as she blinked, a puzzled look coming up to her features. At first, the human thought she was making a point, stopping to make sure that no one could hear her talk about sensitive military information. But the silence continued for more than an awkward amount of time, and the realization came upon the beleaguered host like a bucket of water in a drunk's face.
"You forgot the name of the town that you're in." Vergel let out a deep, weary sighed as he felt a headache coming on, not helped by the flustered look Spitfire gave in response, confirming his suspicions. He rubbed his temples and shut his eyes tightly, again, but there was no sweet oblivion for him to escape to this time. "Orchard Park. Pastel-colored suburbia, around five thousand people, famous for all the apple, cherry, pear, and plum trees, thirty miles away from the city. Orchard. Park."
"...Vergel, and when I say this, I don't mean any offense, 'thirty miles from the city' is a euphemism for 'dead-end' in my experience. And out of all the 'uniquely' quasi-urban dead-ends I've seen, this one is by far the most generic." Spitfire huffed with an annoyed roll of her eyes, trying to downplay the blush coming to her cheeks from forgetting the name of her host's home. Vergel, clear as day, could pick up a bit of cosmopolitan arrogance coming into her tone. "You'll have to forgive me when I say this place can't compare with Canterlot and Cloudsdale."
"Oh," To this, Vergel's exacerbation with his situation was distracted as he put on an exaggerated country accent with a slightly smug smile. "It always takes folks from the city a bit of time to decompress. Fortunately for you, this weekend we're holding the annual Fruit Festival. We'll get to see the Orchard Queen Pageant, the Pear Street Parade, the Plum-O-Rama, Cherry Pie, Apple Pie, OTHER pies; you're in luck."
"Oh, be still, my heart." Vergel's antics managed to get Spitfire to crack a smile before she and the human heard yet another loud boom coming from what was likely the warzone inside his house, and she let out a deep sigh. "I still stand by what I said earlier, you know, about the three of us getting along with you. If anything else, things won't be small-town boredom with us around...oh, oh Celestia, you don't have a -...no, no right. Sorry, for a moment, I was panicking if you had a basement. It took us a day to get JD out of-"
Suddenly, Spitfire's golden globe of a stomach let loose a thunderous growl that managed to send shockwaves through her fat, catching her off-guard. "Something tells me I'm going to regret telling you about the Fruit Festival." Vergel deadpanned, as he already envisioned the scene; a hundred ponies going ballistic in a few days over fruit pies and other assorted baked goods in a self-feeding frenzy. He was going to miss the small-town boredom.
Choice 1: Meanwhile, with the neighbors...
Choice 2: JD & 86 acquaint themselves with Vergel's house - destruction ensues.
Choice 3: Vergel & Spitfire stay outside, away from the CHAOS inside.
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April 19
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