/overboard/ - Overboard

>>382349
The plow harness was floating in a green aura a foot or two in front of Twilight. Applejack stepped forward and extended a foreleg to take it.

"Hey Twilight," I cut in. "How come your magic's a different color?"

Twilight turned and glared at me. Spike did too. It was too late though, Applejack had stopped, and was now looking at the object suspended in the air in front of her, a curious frown on her face.

"Huh, that is mighty peculiar," she said. "Your magic's usually purple, right? How'd you make it turn green like that?"

"Oh, it's just this new spell I'm trying..." Twilight stammered.

"How's it work?" I pressed, stepping forward. I walked around the floating plow harness in a circle, pretending to be fascinated by it. "The other day in school, Miss Cheerilee told us a unicorn's magic color can't be changed."

"Hey, yeah," put in Sweetie Belle, taking my cue. She and the others approached and started gawking and poking at the harness. "We just learned that the other day. A unicorn can't change the color of her magic any more than she can change her cutie mark!"

"W-well, I know that of course, it's just, an illusion spell I've been perfecting—"

Twilight was now hemming and hawing, and her voice sounded off. Her eyes had a slight green glow behind them. Applejack looked confused.

"Uh, that doesn't sound right," she said, scratching her chin with a fetlock. "I'm not a unicorn, and I don't mean to contradict your teacher or nothin', but I'm pretty sure that's just an old mare's tale..."

"Oh, wait, you're right!" I said, slamming my fist into my hand like I'd just had some sort of revelation. "Still, though, don't you think it's strange that a real unicorn like Twilight Sparkle wouldn't know that...?"

Twilight Sparkle gave me a hateful look and made a low hissing noise in the back of her throat. Her eyes were glowing bright green now. Applejack took a step forward.

"Twilight, are you sure you're feelin' okay—"

All of a sudden there was a bright flash of lighting, accompanied by a deafening thunderclap. We all winced, shielding our eyes. The thunderclouds that had been slowly gathering over our heads exploded into a downpour.

"Are y'all okay?" I heard Applejack cry out. "I think that lightnin' mighta struck somethin' nearby..."

I wasn't paying attention. I looked all around, but could find no trace of either Twilight or Spike. Applejack had noticed too.

"Twilight!" she called out. "Spike—oof!"

She grunted, as her legs were suddenly yanked out from under her and she collapsed face-first in the mud. She rolled onto her back, and discovered that the plow harness that had been floating in the air a moment ago had been tied around her hind legs.

"Sis!" shouted Apple Bloom from somewhere nearby.

There was a burst of sickly green light, and a hideous creature materialized over Applejack, looking like some kind of half-transformed mutation. Its coat and mane were still Twilight Sparkle's, but its body shape had contorted. Its front legs were bored through with strange holes, and the eyes were bulbous and faceted like an insect's. It buzzed in the air on a set of translucent dragonfly wings.

The long, curved purple horn jutting out of its forehead sparked up, and a green aura began to take shape around Applejack's body. However, Applejack reacted more quickly than the bug anticipated. She flipped deftly over onto her two front legs, cocked back her hips, and aimed a powerful buck. Her hind legs were still bound at the fetlocks by the harness, but both hooves hit the creature square on the horn. It broke with a sickening crack, and the monster shrieked in pain.

It fell to the ground, flailing back and forth in the mud, still shrieking. Meanwhile, Applejack scrambled to her hooves, shaking off the plow harness. It dislodged quickly, and fell with a plop next to the convulsing insect creature.

"Whatever that thing is, it sure don't know nothin' about tyin' knots," she muttered, as she scrambled towards where the fillies and I had taken shelter under the barn eaves.

"Are y'all okay?" she demanded. She approached her younger sister, lifting her chin with a hoof and examining her face.

"Sis, this is what we were tryin' to warn you about—" began Apple Bloom.

"Where's the other one?" cut in Sweetie Belle anxiously.

The sky had grown considerably darker with the onset of the sudden thunderstorm, and it was difficult to see anything. I could make out the bug with the injured horn, now fully transformed into its insect state, limping slowly away towards the orchard, nursing its injured horn. It didn't look like it was in a mood to cause any more trouble. However, there was no trace of the one that had been disguised as Spike.

Applejack took a hesitant step forward, squinting into the rain that was now coming down in thick sheets. Suddenly, a red blur came from out of nowhere and barreled into her, once again knocking the wind out of her and sending her flying to the ground.

"Big Mac?!?" she mumbled, staring up in confusion at the massive stallion that had pinned her down.

"Nope," the pony replied with a malicious grin. A glowing, curved horn sprouted out of his forehead, and his eyes lit up with toxic green light.

>>382350
"Get away from my sister!" shouted Apple Bloom, galloping towards the creature. It swatted her aside effortlessly, and she went flying. She was caught in midair in by the aura of a third bug, who was joined by two more who had appeared out of nowhere. The filly could only flail her limbs helplessly as she floated, suspended between their horn-beams. Within seconds, she was encased in one of those translucent cocoons.

"Apple Bloom!" shouted Sweetie Belle.

"There's more of them!" cried Scootaloo, pointing. Another flash of lighting illuminated the barnyard briefly, and sure enough we could see an entire horde of flying insects, twenty or thirty of them at least, descending upon the farm.

"Run!" I shrieked.

We took off at a sprint. The ground was basically mud at that point, and we kept slipping and sliding. Between the rain and the growing darkness I could barely see a foot ahead of me. I was dimly aware of a green beam brushing against me, trying to take hold of my arm, but I was able to swat it away.

Finally I stepped on a particularly slick bit of mud, and landed flat on my back. I thought I heard Sweetie Belle calling my name from somewhere nearby. I rolled over and scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could. Before I could take another step, however, I felt an electric tingling on my skin.

I turned around. One of the aliens now had me in its tractor beam. My feet began sliding through the mud as it pulled me slowly towards it.

Lightning flashed again, and for a fraction of a second I saw the whole hopeless scene. Somewhere along the way one of them had caught Scootaloo, and was in the process of sealing her into one of those green cocoons. Two more sacs containing Apple Bloom and her big sister were being carried away towards the town.

I was now being dragged steadily forward. The electric tingling engulfed my entire body, and it was hard to move my arms and legs. I felt like I was trying to swim through molasses.

A beam of aquamarine light shot out from nearby, striking the creature in the face; Sweetie Belle must have fired some kind of unicorn laser beam at it. From the bug's reaction it'd had about as much effect as shooting it in the face with a squirt gun, but it was enough to break its concentration and allow me to move.

Thankfully I'd had the foresight to reload on the walk up to the farm. I was now thoroughly soaked, as was everything in my pockets, but I grabbed a generous glob of what I had and threw it in directly into the creature's eyes.

"Pocket mud!"

It snarled, temporarily blinded, and the tractor beam broke off completely. I looked around, and saw Sweetie Belle a few feet to my right, trying to gallop away as yet another of the bugs was encasing her small body in its aura.

I kicked the monster in the horn as hard as I could. My boots were nowhere near as strong as Applejack's hooves, but it was still enough to break the beam and deal it some damage. The insect-thing howled with rage and pain, and some kind of reflex made it transform into a bug-like approximation of me.

In a stroke of pure luck, the one that had grabbed me managed to wipe the mud out of its eyes at just that second. It mistook its friend for me, and lashed out with its aura. The Dale-bug, still howling in pain, reacted by firing its own tractor beam at the thing that had attacked it. They struggled for another couple of seconds, and then both bugs were entombed in translucent cocoons. Their limbs jerked feebly for a bit longer, then came to a stop.

The dim light and the rain still made it difficult to see, but from what I could tell these were the only ones that had come after Sweetie and me. Most of the swarm seemed to be concentrating on the barn itself, darting in and out and hissing to each other. A new cocoon, containing what looked like the big red pony I'd seen earlier, was being rolled out with visible effort by two exhausted-looking bugs. There was no sign of Scootaloo.

"We have to go back!" shouted Sweetie Belle.

I looked down at her. She was standing knee-deep in mud, her normally poofy mane soaked through and plastered to her head. She looked like a Persian cat that someone had sprayed with a fire hose. Next to her, the two alien bugs were still floating in whatever sort of goop was in those cocoons. I took one more look at the barn, where the rest of the insects still seemed more or less preoccupied.

Without another word, I grabbed Sweetie Belle by the scruff of her neck and took off running, away from the farm. She squeaked in protest, struggling and yelling for me to put her down, but I ignored her.

I made it to a white picket fence and vaulted over, and then we were out of the barnyard. I spared a quick glance over my shoulder, but it seemed the rest of the bugs still hadn't noticed us yet. Sweetie Belle continued to struggle and protest. I transferred her into the crook of my arm, and then sprinted away, across the main road towards the dark treeline beyond.

>>382351
Gribble's Log
Day 8, Nighttime
Location: The Woods

Our resistance force has been decimated. The alien hunters have become the alien hunted.

In a cruel twist of irony, I write these words from the bowels of the very forest where I spent my first night on Planet Equestria. Once more hungry and smokeless, it seems I shall again be forced to rely on my expert wilderness skills should I hope to survive.

Morale among the remaining troops is low. We are once again isolated in an unfamiliar and hostile terrain. Our first priority will, of course, be the acquisition of additional smokes, along with a way to light said smokes, as my Lee Harvey Oswald Zippo was lost in the melee earlier—

"Will you forget about that stupid notebook?!?"

My writing was cut off mid sentence as my notebook was suddenly seized in a blue-green aura and yanked away.

"My log!"

I sprang to my feet, but before I could grab the notebook back, Sweetie threw it into the woods as hard as she could. I could only watch helplessly as it flew through the air and then disappeared into the surrounding darkness.

I hadn't had a smoke since we'd left the treehouse, and I was jonzing hard. But even between the adrenaline and the fog of nicotine withdrawal, I could see everything crystal clear. The pieces were all snapping into place. It had been her all along. The very first horse I met when I came to this accursed planet.

I rounded on her, pointing my finger accusingly.

"So, you've shown your true colors at last, eh Sweetie Belle? How much did they pay you to set me up?"

She was on her hooves now, still glaring at me. A brief flash of lightning illuminated the small clearing for a fraction of a second. The filly was soaked through to the skin, shivering from wet and cold, but her angry gaze held steady.

"How much did who pay me?"

"Don't try to play dumb! Was this your plan all along? I'll bet you and your handlers have been having a nice, long chuckle at my expense!"

"What are you talking about?!?"

"So who is it you're working for, Sweetie Belle, if that even is your real name? Huh? The FBI? The CIA? The DEA? NIT? SAG? KHJ? The NEA? The NRA? The FDA? The NBA?"

One of those agencies must have hit a nerve, because the little horse suddenly came charging at me full steam. She rammed her blunt horn into my shin as hard as she could, and while I was hopping around on one foot, she spun around and bucked my other shin. I collapsed on my backside into the soft mud.

"Shut up!!" shouted Sweetie Belle. "Just shut up for once!"

"Yaaagh..."

She stomped towards me, her horn glowing with malevolent alien power. I crawled backward, until my back was pressed up against the tree.

"It's been nothing but trouble ever since you got here! Now my sister is gone, my friends are gone, all I've got left is you! And all you can do is keep talking about stupid nonsense, and writing in your stupid book!"

She was now standing on my thighs, her front hooves pressed into my chest, looking me straight in the eye. The glow of her horn gave her face an eerie aquamarine cast. I reached into my pocket and took out my last asparagus stalk, then realized I had no way to light it. I put it in my mouth anyway.

"If you're gonna finish me off, do it quick."

She glared at me for a moment longer, her bottom lip trembling. Then she backed away and sniffed. She wiped angrily at her eyes with her front leg, leaving a streak of mud across her face.

"Just leave me alone."

She turned and galloped off into the woods.
[hr]

>>382425
Gribble's Log
Day 9, Morning
Location Unknown

I am once again on my own, with an array of hostile alien forces lined up against me. The one called "Sweetie Belle" has turned out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. Horse in wolf's clothing? Wolf in horse's... sheep's... whatever. Point is, I put my trust in an alien horse, and I've been betrayed—

I sneezed. The rain had stopped hours ago, but I was still soaked through to the bone, and the early dawn air was frigid. I had been in the throes of smokeless agony for hours now, and my mind was beginning to play tricks on me. Writing in the soft mud with a stick was laborious and time consuming, but since Sweetie Belle had thrown my notebook away I didn't have much choice.

Suddenly, my Gribble-sense warned me of a hostile presence nearby.

"Shi-shi-shaw!" I hissed, throwing my body protectively over my writing.

I turned to face the interloper. A small bunny-rabbit was perched on a rock not far away, watching me curiously.

"Who do you work for?" I demanded.

The bunny cocked its head inquisitively to the side, and stared at me a moment longer. Then, it made a gesture like a shrug, turned, and hopped off into the thicket.

I stood up, brushing the mud off of my wet shirt. I realized that in my haste to cover up my writing, I'd accidentally smeared it beyond recognition. All that time had been wasted.

I sneezed again. My hands were shaking, and it wasn't just from cold. I still had two more stalks of asparagus in my pocket, but without a flame they were just vegetables.

I squinted. The sun was coming up, its golden light making the dew drops twinkle like diamonds. It was a beautiful morning in Equestria, and yet there were menacing vibrations all around me. Unseen eyes were watching me from every shadow; behind every tree was an enemy waiting to pounce. Slithering tendrils of paranoia were clawing at the back of my neck, teasing at the knots that held my sanity together.

I sneezed a third time, collapsing on my backside into the mud. I noticed the rabbit had returned, and was once again watching me from its perch on the rock.

"What am I even doing here?" I asked it. The rabbit had no response.

I had no response either. This was the morning of my ninth day on the Planet of the Ponies, and still I was no closer to understanding who had brought me there, or for what purpose. My entire world had been turned upside down, and then turned upside down again. Logically, that should mean it was right side up, but somehow it was even more upside down than ever.

Seemingly, I'd gotten myself mixed up in an intergalactic war between the regular ponies and the bug-ponies, but was that what was really going on? What if the whole thing was just some elaborate kabuki theater, designed to keep me distracted while the pincers closed around me, tighter and tighter? The ponies' mantra was that "friendship is magic," but what if that was just what they wanted me to think? And how did Sweetie Belle's betrayal fit into all of this? Confused, paranoid thoughts gnawed away at my brain. My hands shook for want of nicotine. Ominous pony-shaped specters floated at the corners of my vision.

And then suddenly, without warning, I was taken away from that place. For one brief, tranquil moment I was back on the sweet terra firma of Arlen, Texas. It was just me and the guys, out in the alley. Boomhauer was regaling us with the story of his latest romantic conquest. Bill was tittering like a woman, lost in the vicarious thrill of another man's exploits. Hank was excited about grillstravaganza the following week. I could hear a Jeep turning up the drive, blasting a Def Leppard tape. It must have been John Redcorn, on his way to pick up Nancy for another of her new-age healing sessions. It was all so peaceful, so beautiful, so familiar.

The vision passed. I was back in the Everfree Forest, hundreds of thousands of light-years from everything I'd ever known. The loneliest non-equine in the galaxy. But I wanted to go back. I wanted to smell my wife's hair again. I wanted to enjoy the refreshing taste of an ice cold Alamo. I wanted to feel the caress of sweet lady nicotine on my lungs, without that annoying asparagus aftertaste.

I rose to my feet. I was through wallowing. The alien bugs had to have parked a spaceship around here somewhere. If I could find it and hotwire it, it was just a simple matter of plotting a course back to Earth. All I had to do was figure out the navigation system, and my recovered memories from previous abductions would probably help with that.

I turned to the bunny-rabbit, who was still watching me curiously.

"Tell your masters in Washington that the horse-people can fight their own interplanetary war," I said. "Dale Gribble is going home."

https://youtu.be/03JwuES7LaA?si=lk-emVRIhn4mPdyo [Embed]
King shit. And Queen shit also

i like raceist horsefuckers,
and i love this side.

>>25599
It's not like hating boomers and hating jews are mutually exclusive. You can hate more than one thing.

>>25616
Translation:
They can commit any atrocities and war crimes without any repercussion. Perfect to suit psychopaths.

>>189124
>No, she does not appear entirely lucid.
"Uh, oh. Stay with us, mare. We cannot have you prancing off to the realm of Luna with the Traveller about."
Posey makes a hand with her magic and snaps its fingers before her
"Focus. Look at me. Listen to my voice."

Rolling a Hypnosis check, using her eyes as a focus (+2 if she's already charmed)
[1d20+8 = (18+8) = 26]

"Stay awake."

>>189125
Of course I roll 18 on the shitpost skill check.
Oh well, I finally got an opportunity to use this skill (now that I think about it, I probably should have tried it on Blackheel).

>>189125
Pipette's head, previously moving about, turns towards Posey as the latter speaks. Her ears perk up and she positions herself in front of Posey, moving her head closer to her, her purple eyes widening and focusing on Posey's. As she moves ever so slightly closer, her pupils widen and then refocus, and at the end, she shakes her head away.

>>189125
>>189126
You call that a shitpost, but that was actually really useful.

Kira ooos and ahhs at the display. "That's amazing! It's like the stories my cousin told me about the desert lamias! Except you're a pony!"

>>382398
>they had a rule against racism.
USAID?

>maimed ukrop doll
Well those sick fucks cannot waste any opportunity to siphon the goyim's shekels.

>>382415
>maimed ukrop
I found the adult version. You can't make this shit up.

>jews cannot recruit and keep the White Man to fight their wars
Men fight either for their family or to get laid. Since clownworld's modern society offers neither...

Like unironically, if you wanna, I'm not above gifting copies

>>189073
fuck off you redditor faggot, casual communication and not using capitalization has been a mainstay of chan culture for decades, and specifically /pol/ for the past 14 years. you're clearly one of the knuckle-dragging apes that flocked here without ever having been active on /pol/ before april 1st, 2017. kill yourself you fucking overweight, midwit, libtertarian faggot. fucking nigger

>>189107
Lol, meme war veteran, son.
>redditor
You have to go back

>>189041
>>189073
>>189107
>>189111
The roleplay threads are not your shitting street.

>>189112
Lol. Don't worry. If you hadn't noticed, Brie heading to the Kostromo is my way of extracting him from the game. I imagine it will be 2026 before you chucklefucks manage to arrive.

So, we know whAt we're doing? Let's do it.

>>189094
Very well. But expect them to ask questions, and the military back home to be less than gracious.

>>189096
If we change our minds we can just kill them

Is Dust going to cast the Deus Ex Machina spell, or not? We need to come to a conclusion.
I don't care what we do next so long as we do something.

The Chinese government is defending soldier's rights by penalizing with 3 years in prison any woman cheating on her husband.
Think about it and translate it to the West.
What is the single WORST thing you can do to a group of weak western men? Take their women's rights away. Now their weakness is rewarded, the weaker individuals will reproduce over the rest and they'll bend the knee harder. Then the matriarchal cycle stars again.
There is a pervasive lie in the manosphere that women are the problem, but it is men who enforce their own tyranny by simping to cunts. Women are a non-factor.

>>382407
Brings to mind an Anon-quote:
>Women are the reflection of a society
Society will be in a better state in the next age.

>>382407
>3 years
>not laser removing their head hair and tattooing their faces
They still cheat.
There's some muslim law where a male fighter can't be kept more than 4 weeks (maybe months) away from his wife, because they know the women cheat.

>>382420
>They still cheat
I know, it is their nature.
Then there is two routes I'm aware of:
1- Removal of their current rights and lock them up for life at home, like Saudi Arabia.
2- To concede them unlimited freedom but separated from men's society, being their interactions with men limited to sell sex and hand over male children to men for instruction.

National Socialist book describes Christian education as “Jewish fairy tales.” “We had been baptized Christian like everybody else, because propriety and customs demanded it. In the fourth class, we recited the Jewish fairy-tales just like the teacher demanded. But if in German class we heard the Siegfried saga, then our eyes glistened, our little hearts raced and often stood still. And many a one furtively wiped away a tear with his sleeve, when fierce Hagen slew brave Siegfried. Siegfried, yes, that was our hero!”
Source: Gott und Volk: Soldatisches Bekenntnis, Theodor Fritsch, Pg 8.

Hi folks, I'm fetching some news.
https://x.com/FolkAsatru/status/1904192427520602443 [Embed]

Time to start naming Aryan kids TITUS again.