1864/It's Okay, It's Alright~ o/`

It's Okay, It's Alright~ o/`
Date of Scene:	24 March 2015
Location:	Equestria <KE>
Synopsis:	The mask comes off for a little bit of fresh air.
Cast of Characters:	Mortimer Balman, 470

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Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Spring is finally here. Already the trees begin to sprout bits of green. Already the grass is coming back, the snow has been cleared away. Mortimer has been up for hours- he doesn't sleep much after all, only a couple hours at a time usually- and is sitting on the roof of his home. Four acres of land. Two for Karian's use, two for his own. Not cheap but it will be worth it in time. A trail of smoke lazily wafts from his nostrils as he puffs on his pipe, musing on future plans and goals. He's close to broke for now but the taxes have all been paid and all critical purchases for the first quarter of the new fiscal year have been made. He only needs make a few more deals and he'll be set for the remainder of the year.

     Everything's comin' up Morty. Well, for the most part. Other concerns nag at his mind.. But he's distracted by a sound and a smell. "..I know you're there, "Pinkie". C'mon out. Or are we playing spy and seek?" She might be stealthy but she can't hide her distinctive smell, even over his peach-flavored tobacco.

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Since the whole undead fiasco in her Equestria came to an end, Pinkie Pie has been seen more and more often skulking about in the happier, cheerier variant of Equestria. It was a horribly stressful ordeal, and truth be told, even killer assassins need some downtime to relax, breath, and smile. And that is GENUINELY smile.
    It comes a lot easier, especially now that all the ponies have gotten through Winter Wrap up and the trees are starting to bloom, makes doing that a lot easier.
    Oh there's no SOUND. But that smell is very distinct, all things considered. And when called out on it, a sigh seems to emanate from nowhere. It starts as a flicker. A shift of Mortimer's very own shadow that makes no sense at all, before it seems to break away from him. Or more specifically a secondary shadow slides out from it, before a hoof reaches out and grasps the roof for leverage. Like pulling herself from a pool of black water, Pinkie flops out in a sprawl that lays her on her back. "You know, it's not every day someone can just spot me when I'm hiding like that. You're pretty good! You wanna take a turn hiding next?"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer exhales a large cloud and snorts it away. "Hah.. No thanks. I know I stick out these days. Hidin's too hard." He'd stretch his poor old body out, bones cracking and popping all over his spine and fore and hind legs, finishing off with shaking out his hooves. "Can't imagine why you keep comin' back to /my/ house. I'd figure you'd wanna hide out at yer sister's.. Rarity ain't gonna smell you comin' a mile away like I will." He'd peer down at the flopped bemasked pony-thing. "Hell of a trick you picked up with that. Y'know Nettle's awful proud that you can do suchlike.. N'moreso that you fooled the lot of us like a used cart salesmare. So'm I, fer that matter."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Snort. "Well that's no fun." Pinkie seems to pout when the attempt to game is deflected. But then Pinkie sits herself up. Mention of Rarity however seems to get a stony response from her, peering from the corner of her gaze with one startlingly vivid green eye.
    Shoulders sag in a small sigh, before her glance shifts left. Right. Once she's sure there's no one and no pony else around, she reaches one hoof up.
    A little tug, slides the pink porcelain mask off her snout, tossing that curly pink mane with a chuff.
    "When you spend fifteen years convincing yourself of a lie it gets a lot easier to convince others too." She notes with a slightly weary look. "I don't want to force that on her, and you know it."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort nods understandingly. "Yeah.. I know. ...Never been one much for secrets m'self, though. Never known one to be kept." He'd smile when she took off the mask. A small, sad smile. "I don't think that'd be 'forcing' it on her so much as.. I can't think of a word that translates well into Equestrian.." He'd scratch his mane with a hoof. Then sigh, looking at that bright little green eye, and all the things done to her pretty little face. "Yer too paranoid, Sweetie. Awful habit." He said, while smoking. Nettle's giggling voice echoed from nowhere, appearing to settle her cottony frills on the now unmasked pony's head. "<Hello, dearie~ so kind of you to haunt us in the wee hours~>"

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    A shake of her head, and Pinkie lays back. Despite being in her four-legged mode, she folds her forelegs behind her head to pillow herself, hind legs crossing lazily as she gets comfortable. "Things are too complicated over there. I like it here. It's simpler. Easier. I get to smile for real." Stated matter of factly as she uses her hooves to tug the corner of her lips upwards as if to prove her point, before pillowing herself again. "It's easier this way, even if I have to hide behind the mask. I want to relax, but I don't want to cause any trouble." She pauses with a mild fluster.
    "Even if it is just a liiiiiiittle teeeeensy bit awkward, I still love it. So I don't mind."
    A toss of her mane hides her face, and she keeps it that way, but for once allows herself to have the fresh air like this, kicking one hind leg lazily.
    "Hello, Nettle, how are you tonight?"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort trots over and folds his legs under himself, settling beside Pinkie. "I think you overestimate how much "trouble" you'd cause, or how "awkward" things'd be. But then I've always been one'a them types what just goes through an awkward situation an' moves right on from it whenever possible. Worst that could happen is Rares has a good cry an' starts workin' with me on how we can un-screw that nightmare world of yers." He'd shrug. "But.. ...It's you. So I'll keep yer little secret a while longer yet, at least." Nettle sort of 'hugs' Sweetie's head with her armless socky body. "<Hehe, quite the favor, Master~ I cannot recall the last time you extended such niceties. And I am fine, dear little Sweetie~ just quietly gorging myself. Between you and the Master, it's a wonder I'm not fat as a Snorlax! Eheeeheee~>"

     The sound of pawing at the door to the roof is heard. The door then falls off its hinges, sliced by invisible, blades, and Falstaff wanders out, following 'Pinkie's' scent until the great old beast can flop down beside her. His blade-like tail starts wagging a little as he curls up beside her. "..Dammit, Falstaff, that door /just/ got fixed." The decrepit creature merely responds with a grumble.

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Green eyes slide closed and Sweetie gives the most epic of shrugs. "It's probably better she doesn't know. Prrrrooobably better everypony else doesn't know. I mean it's bad enough both Twilights saw me unmasked." She sighs. "I don't want to see her cry so let's keep things happy-slappy." She pauses on that thought. "I don't think I'm ready anyway." Added as an after thought as she pushes right along.
    "... I appreciate it." Given when Mort promises not to unmask her, figuratively, earning a slight smile.
    A real one.
    At least before she rolls her eyes. "Fuhiiiiiine. Just leave my dreams about the Crusaders alone and you can have whatever you like from in there." She concedes to Nettle. Someone is feeling generous today. Then again the spring good mood of an Equestria in bloom is infectious. Which earns Falstaff a light pat on the head. She doesn't bother to slide her mask on. Who is Falstaff going to tell anyway?

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Nettle stops giggling for a moment. "<Of course, dear. I wouldn't dream of touching that.>" And just settles herself down, becoming much flatter than one would presume she could actually become. Falstaff just makes a very large purring sort of sound. "You realize, of course.. Between Empty and Twilit, one of'ems gonna blab. Unintentionally most likely. But.. I can wait. I'm a patient man. Usually." He'd pause for a while after that. A long, heavy pause, as the gears in his head slowly cranked away. "...So what /are/ you gonna do, kiddo?"

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    "Mmmmmm." There's a thoughtful moment of pondering there. "I don't think the Archmagister will tell." She suddenly admits. "She's had a good fifteen years to learn how to be as subtle and underhanded as I am!" Chirruped as Sweetie keeps stroking at Falstaff. "The younger Twilight... I won't hold it against her if she spills it on accident."
    So she pauses there, glancing up at the sky, and pursing her lips. "I'm not sure yet. Things have quieted down so I figured I'd keep my head low and actually try to live a little. I mean I still have a lot of business I need to handle... But I don't have to do it now. So I guess I can stick around and vicariously re-live the better days a little bit."
    It takes her a moment. An awkward stumble of her voice before she gives a very quiet, earnest admission. "For the first time, in a long time, I have a feeling for this Equestria that I haven't had in a very long time." ... "Hope."
    "So I guess..." That is a bigger grin she's flashing now... Because her voice lifts softly.

    o/` ~ "It's alright, it's alright, for them I would perform all day and night, If you're ever feeling down, here I am, the happy clown~." ~ o/`

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort's ears pin back a bit. "Mm.. I suppose. ..You don't need to stay low here, though, so.. Keep that much in mind. Actually /livin's/ so much better than do it vicariously." He was going to say more, but then the little- no, she's not little anymore, Mort. She's grown up on you. Don't keep thinkin' of her as a total child- the /young mare/ starts singing. Gave him reason to pause and wonder why her flank still hadn't developed a mark. ..Surely by now she /realized/ it, but did she deny it so she could maintain her disguise? An unpleasant thought. "Hope's good.."

     Falstaff, for his part, simply laid his head on Sweetie's stomach and let out a mighty yawn, then closed his eyes to snooze on her. Tired Absol is tired. Even Nettle's eyes closed- or more accurately, lost their usual glow- as the shuppet relaxed and went into a torpor-like state. "Sing a few more bars fer us, Sweetie.."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    o/` ~ "Letting all my worries off means growing space for love... Wish I could expose my face, this mask's a heavy obstacle..." ~ o/`

    Sweetie doesn't need to be asked, voice flowing and gently melodic, although slightly hesitant.

    o/` ~ "I'm still so scared of my emotions, but I'll pursue to live this notion, it's okay, it's okay, to find myself again, I'll find the way. Paved with bitter blocks of doubt, still I walk this route. One day I'll reveal my beaming smiles, until then my hope will hold out..." ~ o/`

    Green eyes slide closed as she trails off with a rather content sounding sigh. "Mm. Hope is good." She agrees, eventually.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer's eyes lid a bit as Sweetie sings for them, letting out a yawn. But just before he can doze of his eyes snap open, briefly darting around, as though making sure of his surroundings. Awake again, good to go. "Yea, that it is. ...Anytime you wanna try an' pull off a scheme to make yer Equestria a better place, Sweetie, you come over an' let us know, yea? Me an' my crew'll all help, no questions asked. We'll be a damn sight more reliable than a pack of nutjobs an' psychopaths, at least."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    "I am aaaaaaall schemed out right now." She admits fairly candidly. One eye peeks open again, mostly hidden among pink curls. "I'll figure something out later. For now I'm leaving the damage control in Cranky, Derpy, and Mayor Mare's hooves and taking a -vacation-." Quite adamant on that note of vacation as she spins her mask on the tip of one cloven hoof. "And pretty happy about it, so don't ruin it by reminding me of that nightmare. Unless you want Nettle to get fat!"
    Can sock puppet pokemon get fat?
    Sweetie don't know.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort let out a chuckle. "If she could get fat of bad dreams, I'd have made her the size of this town ages ago.. But as long as everythin's good for now. Just keep it in mind." He'd reach out with a hoof to fuzzle the little pony's mane. Nettle shuppeted, "<Indeed. I would look such an atrocious sight!~ But thankfully not a concern for us Dead. Heehee~>" Mortimer stretched out a hind leg a bit. "Well if yer on vacation, y'can actually stay /inside/ my house if'n you want, rather'h hangin' out in the darn trees. You know my door's always open to yah. Go a bit easy on the pantry till I can start gettin' more cash saved up, though. Already hard figurin' out how to keep Karian an' his boys fed."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    "HAH." Sweetie snorts. Getting fat isn't a concern for the dead, Nettle says. "I guess the dead really do laugh last." She snickers, before rolling over. "I actually like sleeping outside, here. The air's a lot fresher. And you don't need to worry about your pantry. The twins keep me fed on a steady supply of cupcakes, they really have it down to an art. But I guess I can steal your couch from time to time." She relents.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Nettle's face cracks into an unnaturally wide grin. "<It's rare that we don't~>" A considerably sinister tone to that statement, at least until Mortimer's hoof comes down and clonks her right on the sock. "<Ow!>" "Stop that." Mort smiles down at Sweetie again. "Good! Yer gonna catch yer death'a cold sleepin' outside all the damned time, one'a these days." That made him feel better. It's so easy to make him happy. More people should do that! It would save everyone so much trouble. "Used to love sleepin' outside myself, once. Prefer bein' under a roof nowadays though. Spent enough time campin' outdoors to last me a dozen lifetimes over.."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    "Fuuuuhiiiiiin -mom-." Countered deftly as the clown sits up. "Well I've kind of picked up the knack to sleep almost anywhere. Only problem is I ended up a horribly light sleeper. One of the perks of being a ninja assassin." Oop. Sweetie's grin just made that little *~squee~* sound.
    And then a thoughtful look. "Hey how come I haven't gotten my ninja assassin Cutie Mark yet!?" She pouts at no one in particular before shrugging it off. "Honestly it's just a really nice change of pace from hiding underground and sleeping in catacombs... That's why I like it a lot more."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort let out a hearty, coarse laugh at that. "Oh goddesses above.." Ninja assassin QT mark. That's a good one. "Gwahahahaaa.." Takes him a moment to stop. "Yeah, I picked up that 'sleepin' anywhere' trick when I was close to yer age.. And yea, I can agree to that. Sleepin' in crypts is hellish. Even if the dead are restin' quietly." Nettle shuppets, "<Well you don't see /us/ getting up and going to sleep in /your/ houses. Half the time when you Living are using our tombs as a nap spot we don't have a clue if you're there to rob the place or not. It's worse than having a cat who sharpens its claws on the drapes and the good furniture!>" She started giggling again.

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    That tongue comes right out. "I'm sure it's a totally valid Cutie Mark!" Sweetie says psuedo-defensively. Before whickering in thought. "But it's not really the one I want."
    She lets that hang in the air for a moment before giving a big old yawn. "Oh you were twenty-three sometime? How long was this, ten thousand years ago." A joke clearly, she doesn't mean it, considering the light knock from one hoof. "It's horrible at first. But like anything else, if you do it enough you get really numb and used to it."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer snorts out another cloud of smoke. "Might as well have been that long ago.. Maybe it was." He muses for a moment. "No.. I had to pick that trick up at around.. Nineteen, I think. Yeah.. Yeah, two years after the war started." And then he'd nod thoughtfully. "Numb.. No, you just tell yourself you get numb. You never really do. Even if you think you are. It catches up to you once you stop havin' to do often.. Maybe it takes a while. But it catches up." Dull smoke cloud lazily floating out of his mouth. "..." He leaves a pause in the air for a moment. "..You should bring the twins here sometime. Let them see the glory days of their home. Bet they'd like it."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Another little whicker and the unmasked clown rolls over onto her belly, idly staring off at the horizon. "I can't let it catch up to me. I need to be strong. If only for their sake. I raised them myself, you know. After Ponyville. And I still think I'm doing a terrible job at it. They're not exactly very well adjusted."
    This admission comes with an odd scritch at her ear with one hind-leg in a dog-like manner. Some ODD Pinkie-isms don't go away even when the mask is off, after so long. "Maybe they would. But I'm also worried it'll give them wrong ideas, you know?"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort's face curls into a frown. "You did yer best. Ain't more anypony can ask from yah. Anyone says otherwise, I've got two balls for their chin." That comes out more than a little harshly. "...Scuse my language." Softer again. "I think it'd do'em good.. Dunno what 'wrong ideas' they might get, they seem to have more or less good heads on their shoulders. But.. You know'em better, so I ain't gonna press the matter if you don't want."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Two balls for a chin? Now that earns a funny look. But then Sweetie heaves a tiny sigh and stretches out. "They want this." 'This' being a circular motion at... Everything. "And I want to give it to them, but I'm afraid I can't sometimes." Shrug. "... I think I need to teach them to socialize with other people and ponies a little better. I've known them their whole lives and the whole 'finishing each others thoughts' thing is still super spooky!"
    There's her tongue sticking out again. But then comes a yawn. It is massive. It is sleepy.
    "Until then though, I think I'm going to turn in. I'll be in your cupboard. Good night!"
    --Wait in where?
    Too late, she's already flipping back into her own shadow like it were a pool of water and sinks out of sight. ... There's a long beat of pause before one foreleg reaches out to nab up her mask and pull it in after her. Can't forget that.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer nods a bit. "Yeah, it kinda is. Night Sweetie.. ...Wait, you'll be wher-" And she's already gone. "Nettle?" He looks up expectantly. The ghost vanishes from sight for a few minutes, and then reappears topside. "<Yep.>" Mort furrowed his brows and shrugged.

     Whaddya gonna do?