Alicorn. Chapter Fifteen. (Patreon)

Chapter Fifteen.

I had to give it to the Prench. The fancy bastards knew exactly how to spoil a mare with a positively stunning laboratory.

“And this will be your workspace for the time being. At present we are currently on the fourteenth floor of Sabot tower, so you will find that the risk of intruders is exceedingly low. Living quarters have been attached to a nearby storage room, though you are of course welcome to request use of any penthouse floor, within reason.”

Turning my eyes away from the massive, almost clinical chamber hewn from marble and decked out in a fine mixture between gold and silver, I beheld the cloaked figure that my latest sponsor had assigned to me in the role of a glorified assistant.

Belle Rosette held the common white coat that seemed inherent to many of the Prench ponies I had seen so far, though her mane distinguished the mare by proving an almost violently bloody red, in comparison to the various blues and purples that characterised her fellows. Clad in a soft grey cloak trimmed in silver, the unicorn was apparently a magus in training, and would both be trying to learn under me while also helping however she could.

I didn't mind, honestly. Though the risk of Providence trying to replace me with a sufficiently trained apprentice was always there, I had already thought up a few failsafes in the event of such a move.

Though for now…

“Good. I'll require a platform for the subject to be strung from, holding cells for donors or other experiments, and a variety of tools. Get me some parchment and paper first, I'll draw up a list while I get situated, and you can get to shopping.”

Rosette blinked at the blunt order, the unicorn (who I was increasingly beginning to think was some relative Sabot had decided to foist upon me, judging by how casually the pair had spoken during our initial introduction, prior to the Lord excusing his presence to attend to something else) opening her mouth to respond, only to shut it immediately upon my glance.

She kept quiet as I stared at her, idly noting the forms of the two knights from earlier warily carrying my magnum opus into the chamber, Igor’s hulking armoured form stalking just behind them like a rabid animal.

“...Hm, see if you can't source a fresh heart of some kind as well. Anything will do, though one from a pony would be preferable.”

Turning away as Rosette bowed her head before practically skittering off, I made my way over where the two guards had set down my latest creation, the duo already trying to inch away from their mutated counterpart, who seemed to be calculating whether it could pierce through their armour.

Silly flesh horror. Of course it could.

—

It had been a while since I'd been able to properly get my hooves dirty with surgery, tweezers and scalpels and other implements floating around me with a mask set over my muzzle, the scent of pennies choking the air around me.

“I just don't see the inherent need for two hearts, if the magical core will inherently harmonise the way you say it will, the body will adapt to accept that power in due time!”

Shifting one of the slowly beating organs slightly out of the way, I made use of a temporary brace to keep the path open, even as my hooves gently lowered the almost spherical container of metal and glass into the exposed cavity, the glorified ball's interior shining with a variety of almost kaleidoscopic patterns and colours.

It had gotten rather shiny after I'd ground down Nightmare Moon's feather into particulates that could be held within it.

“You're entirely correct in that assumption. But harmonisation is something that typically occurs over a longer period of time, and generally only with living things. Despite appearances, this pony really is just a corpse kept from rotting by artificial means. Given a grace period, the body would accept the core. But it won't be, and without proper strengthening and an enhancement of both its inherent biological durability and magical reserves…”

My assistant paused, the fervour in her voice falling slightly as realisation injected itself into her voice.

“...Ah. It would reject the magical core.”

I nodded, a pleased smile hidden beneath my mask.

“And likely explode, yes. Pass me a needle and thread, please?”

Accepting the requested tools from the unicorn's bubblegum pink magic (the colour a match for her own eyes) with a burst from my own horn, I began the slow but steady (hah) process of stitching the hole in my creation's chest closed.

It wasn't exactly a quick process, but once the work was done it was a relatively trivial matter to strip myself of the coverings adorning my hooves, before cleaning up the table we'd splayed the almost-an-alicorn out on with a quick disinfectant spell.

I was in the midst of preparing to float my creation back towards the fancy shmancy levitation pad my employers had provided me with when both Rosette and I were startled from our cleanup by the main door to the lab opening, admitting a small gaggle of ponies.

Most were just armoured guards and the robed acolytes I'd come to associate as Providence's equivalent to research and occult staff, but among the group was Lord Sabot himself, alongside a pretty well dressed mare that seemed to share quite a few features with my current assistant-

Ah, her mother then. How interesting.

“Steady Stitch! Apologies if we are interrupting, but my dearest wife found herself most curious as to the progress of our organisation's shared goal!”

Noting the way Rosette quickly stepped away from me while bowing her head in visible deference, I settled for staring at the newcomer in blatant bemusement, even as I gestured towards the limp form of my magnum opus with a hoof.

“If you must know, my assistant and I were just finalising the implantation of the subject's artificial magical core. Given a day or so, it should meld quite nicely with the surrounding flesh, and become indistinguishable from the rest of the body within the week. From there it'll just be a simple matter of jumpstarting the brain and organs-”

“Magnificent.”

Closing my mouth and feeling just a little disgruntled at the interruption of my explanation, I watched as the white mare (clad in a dress that matched her crimson eyes and mane) moved forward and all but loomed over the largely lifeless form of what might just be Equestria's future ruler.

Her admiring gaze flicked from the subject's head and mane to its melded horn, features scrunching together slightly at its not entirely uniform state, before lowering to the wings and legs.

“Save for a few things, she is beautiful indeed. Oh, I see you have gone with the latest trend in tail shaping. I would not have thought a stuffy scientist so knowledgeable about such matters!”

Her Prench accent was significantly more prominent compared to her husband's, who coughed slightly while shooting me an apologetic look, even as the Lady Sabot turned to look at me with a pleased expression plastered across her muzzle.

“This is excellent work, madame Stitch! Why, I have half a mind to try and earn you a title here in Paris! Perhaps baroness, particularly if you can whip my whelp of a daughter into shape while you complete this wondrous alicorn's creation!”

Glancing at Rosette out of the corner of my eye, I noted the slight flinch the younger mare gave at her mother's words, and filed away the presence of mommy issues for another time.

“You flatter me. But it's merely my special talent, nothing more.”

I had to hold back scrunching up my own muzzle in the beginnings of a sneeze as Sabot's wife twisted about, flicking her long tail across my nose while shooting me a coy look.

“I shall expect you as a guest of honour during Providence's next dinner party, madame Stitch. Take care not to disappoint me.”

And then the tall mare was all but strutting away, even as her husband scooted over and ducked his head with a weary sigh.

“My apologies, she is, as the youth might say, a raging lesbian. Her favourite activity as of late has been that of confounding me with her continuous acts of infidelity.”

…Huh. Neat.

—

“Please don't sleep with my mother, madame Stitch.”

“I'm not going to sleep with your mother, Rosette.”

“That is what many other mares also said, before proceeding to sleep with my mother!”

“Rosette, my sexual tastes would give the average pony nightmares. I will not be sleeping with your mother.”

“...You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“G-Good! Then we agree! Shall we get back to work, then?”

“Yes, we shall.”

…Just what was my life turning into lately, some kind of fucked up romcom?

Ridiculous. This was why I stuck to flesh horrors and false gods, for goodness’ sake.