Vapor Trail

Note: I did not write this Somber did. in your reply name your favorite scenes in Fan-fiction Slowly I made my way to the door back into medical, then up the stairs. Behind me I could hear the soft hoofsteps of the living and the dead. We were leaving. Celestia help anypony who got in my way. I stepped into the night rain; the lightning blasted overhead and the thunder rolled through my blood as if the elements themselves had finally seen this blight, this sin… and roared against it. “Get down, on the ground n-“ bellowed the pegasus in the sleeker, fancier-looking Thunderhead armor. Five of them, four on the ground and one in the air. Only five? Then I was on him, racing the short distance separating us as if I were in S.A.T.S. and I grabbed the respirator tubes running to his muzzle. My twisting hands flipped him over as he started firing wildly. The sword flashed in the lightning; glistened in the light. It entered his crotch, and moved till it reached his throat in one terrific slash. Then I heaved him, his bloody viscera erupting from the split armor over the face of the second pegasus. I saw light. Felt heat. Moved. My hooves raced towards the source of those crimson beams. So hot. Very hot. I imagined myself bursting into flame. Exploding from all the rage and hate inside me. I imagined every one of these Enclave to be the camp director. I was screaming something; the words didn’t matter any more as I closed the distance like I’d taken a hit of Flash. Out came Duty and Sacrifice. Four shots in slow motion chewed through the fancy visor. The fifth shot blew a red fountain of chunks as his beam rifles went dark. One of the pegasi took to the air. I leapt up, my mechanical fingers grabbing that scorpion tail as we lifted higher and higher into the flashing sky. This was Lighthooves, the sneaky son of a mule who had seen this atrocity and not destroyed it. Who had used it. Who had killed other pegasi just to make his disease work on his own kind. Glory had once mentioned how tough pegasi wings were… My sword was tougher. I stabbed it through the armor covering, and the mare inside screamed. With all the strength I could manage in my horn, I ripped the blade down completely through her wing, and we tumbled together end over end. The airborne pegasus was close… too close. Perhaps he didn’t notice her falling wing . Perhaps he was just unlucky. He blasted me with glowing, disintegrating energy, the magic eating into my armor. If I’d been flesh and blood, perhaps I would have died then, transformed into glowing slop. I wasn’t flesh and blood. I was hatred and pain in pony shape. I leapt the distance and wrapped my forehooves around his neck. He flipped almost completely upside-down, his energy cannons blasting. This close, I could almost imagine I could see his eye through his visor. I had no idea how far up we were. I could hear shouting, but then, I could hear screaming, too. Could hear thunder. Could hear everything except my own heart. Within, I was silent. My fingers gripped his helmet as he shook and shot wildly. My other hoof beat at his face again and again with all the force I could muster. There was a crack, a pop, and then the left side of the visor popped free. I stared into a wide green eye, saw two pinpricks of red reflected in it. My horn managed three magical bullets before it burned out. The pegasus’ wings went limp, and we tumbled down into the rain and darkness. The bones broke my fall, snapping and scattering as they parted beneath me to deposit me on the muddy ground. I should have stayed down. I should have. I wasn’t done yet. I ignored the flashing lights; the warnings that I was crippled and needed to stay down. I pulled myself to my hooves, walked towards a one-winged pegasus that was trying to turn me to ash even as I approached. I might not have had a working horn, but I had fingers. And I had bones. The mare moved so slowly. Too slowly. I plucked one of the scattered bones , a rib, by the look of it, and sprang upon her. Rover was right… fingers were better. Fingers of one hoof seized her armor, her beam rifle flashing past me by inches. I could feel the warmth of the magic on my hide. Fingers of my other hoof drove the broken end of the rib through the hole of the severed wing. It didn’t kill her. That was okay. I had another. And another. And another. When she stopped firing, I rose and looked at the others through the rain. The last pegasus had gotten clear of the corpse I’d thrown in her face. She saw me running at her. Took to the air… Flying for her life. She almost made it. My hands grabbed her stinger tail, and we were aloft. She looked down at me and flew by one of the towers with its rusty turret still pointing guns at the building below. I supposed she intended to scrape me off. Nopony was scraping me anywhere. My body slammed into the rusty tower, but I had no lungs to crush or puncture and no heart to falter. My rear legs gripped the rusty rails and my fingers locked down on the tail. Suddenly the pegasus went from accelerating forward to a dead stop, snapping like a rubber band. Then she was going backwards once more as I heaved and kicked off the tower. We flipped end over end as we fell, her wings struggling for purchase with my massive weight attached. We landed square on a curved roof and smashed through the rusty metal plating. Inside, bunk beds stacked five high shattered beneath us. Bones, hide and rags snapped and tore as dust filled the air. The pegasus pulled herself to her hooves, turning to face me as I rose and started forward. Had she run, had she fled, she might have gotten away in those seconds. Not anymore. The gatling beam guns flashed, each shot seemed to take a minute as I charged. My body was in agony. So what? I was always in agony. Life was agony. I knew exactly how Deus must have felt when he was dropped on those zebras. Hurt. Violated. Angry. Nothing would stop him. Nothing would stop me now. I tackled her neck and drove her into the stack of bunk beds behind her. The structure collapsed upon us, yet I still didn’t stop. My rear legs tore up the ground as I pushed forward. I wanted her to break, wanted my body to fail. Wanted this whole world to shatter. I wanted to kill in the worst way possible. We moved through the avalanching wood and bone and finally ran out of building. The thin metal wall ripped through with a shriek and dumped us back in the mud. Her fancy gatling weapons were nothing against my rage; as I smashed her into a tangle of razor wire, both her weapons finally sparked and popped and went dark as she reclined against it. Her wings beat frantically. She wasn’t going anywhere. I stood before her like a zebra and began to beat and pound and rip at her armor. My hooves could repair themselves. So could her armor, if I gave her the time. I wasn’t about to do that. I beat and smashed her visor till it popped open. Wide purple eyes stared as she raised her forelegs defensively. I simply smashed and tore into them along with her face. Finally I gripped her helmet with my fingers and began to pull. My motors hummed, sparked, and smoked. My skin stretched and strained as if I were going to tear myself in two. Maybe I was. Maybe I wanted to. Then there was a scream of metal as I ripped her faceplate off. I held her head with one hand and drew back my hoof to smash her face out the back of her skull. Then the lightning flashed, and I saw Glory’s face. Not Rainbow Dash’s… Glory. Purple mane peeked out. The lightning flashed again; I looked at the red dripping out of her mouth and nostrils. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing. Just thunder and screams. My friends and the others were running at me. I saw the pain in her eyes… darker than the pony I remembered… Not Glory… Dusk. I was about to kill Glory’s sister. I looked at the three Neighvarro pegasi. The beating I’d given them was nothing compared to what I’d meted out this night. I wondered what horrors or ghost stories they had in the Enclave about ponies like me. Xanthe stared at me in mute horror. The Maiden of the Stars. Even the Highlander, her blue eyes wary… even scared… stared at me with one word on her face. Reaper . I threw back my head and screamed out all the hate and pain and rage inside me. I had to or I’d kill her. Kill everyone. I felt the bugs in my head chewing their way free. I wanted Lancer to hear me in the night. I wanted Lighthooves to hear me wherever he hid. I wanted whatever pony or machine that guided the Harbingers to know that at this moment I would tear down the towers of the Core itself with my bare hooves to destroy them. And as if in agreement, the concrete block of the processing center erupted in a fountain of rainbow flame and a deafening blast that rolled through the camp. I imagined that I was the pony possessed by Shujaa and let the Wasteland hear her rage one final time. Then the moment passed, and like that burning ball of rainbow fire, my fury was spent. Literally. My eyes darkened and my limbs stilled. I became as inert as the bones around me. >Primary power systems exhausted. Emergency power supplies engaged.

If this were to be written would you be willing to read it or watch it? I for one would definitely give it a chance for I am a hardcore fan of both series and would love to see a nigh seamless transition between the two. I would imagine Twi would be Capt. Carter.

Technically these are Alternate world/realities with there own characters and plot line with fully developed lore (in most cases) and only loosely connected to or based off of the cannon and not the writers OC. by your argument all of the cannon ponies could be considered the OCs of the writers and creators of the show since they 'originally' created them, there by making every character ever created outside of random character generation software an OC.