> Mona Lisa Overdrive: Hang Out With Linus > by AndyHunter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Rasta Boy > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- You strolled through the streets of Marechester, a tune escaping your lips in a soft whistle. Feeling a buzz in your pocket, you fished out your Nakia phone, contemplating reaching out to some pals for a bit of company. The Nakia's keyboard, designed for hooves, dwarfed your fingers, but you figured you'd adapt in no time. Scrolling through your contacts, you spotted familiar names like Stardust Glitter, Blackjack, Lollipop Hearts, and Rampage. "I'll give Rampage a ring, see if she hasn't smashed her phone to bits," you chuckled to yourself, recalling her aversion to all things tech-related unless absolutely necessary. Dialing her number, you were met with a robotic voice announcing, "This number has not been recognized. Please redial and try again." "Guess she's gone and done it again," you chuckled, shaking your head at Rampage's tech troubles. Continuing down your list, you came across Linus, your old buddy whom you hadn't seen since that wild night at the strip club two months back. "We haven't hang out in ages. Time to give him a shout," you decided, tapping the call button and bringing the phone to your ear. Linus's voice crackled through the phone mere moments after you placed the call. "Whatta Gwaan, Rasta?" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm evident. "Hey, Linus. What's up?" you greeted him warmly. "Just deh pon mi corner, sellin' some weapons and ting, ya know? If yuh need any, I got rifles, pistols, all at a good price. Just shipped 'em in from mi land," Linus offered, his entrepreneurial spirit shining through despite the bleakness of the wasteland. Selling arms was just one way he made ends meet in this harsh world. "Appreciate the offer, Linus, but I'm good for now. I was actually thinking about hanging out, you know? Where you at?" you inquired, eager to arrange a meeting spot. "I'm over in New Aslington, ya know. Wherever you deh, I'll come link up with ya. 'Cause from what me know, you nah have nuh car," Linus suggested, offering to meet you halfway, a testament to his reliability. "I'm over in Spanningfields, near the Moonlight House building. You know the spot?" you confirmed with Linus, ensuring he knew exactly where to find you. "Yeah, rude bwoy, me know di place. Me a head ova deh right quick. Gonna hang up now, can't be chattin' and drivin'," Linus replied. "Sure, I'll be waiting for you," you responded before ending the call and making your way to the Moonlight building, leaning against it casually as you waited for Linus to arrive. You spotted a sleek black Marcedaz Banz E500 hurtling toward you, recognizing it as Linus's signature ride, the vehicle he and Comet used for their weapon trade across different cities. Linus honked his car, signaling his arrival, and you made your way over to greet him. "Hey, Star, good to see ya," Linus greeted warmly, swinging open the car door. You returned his greeting with a fist bump, your hand meeting his extended hoof in a familiar gesture of camaraderie. "How you doing, Linus? Everything's cool?" you inquired, settling against the doorframe of his car. "Yeah, rasta, everyting irie 'cept fi di weapon dealin', ya zimmi? Was jus' jookin' wid Babylon," Linus explained, gesturing with his hooves before settling them back on the ground. You couldn't help but furrow your brow, feeling a twinge of frustration as you struggled to decipher Linus's words. Despite spending considerable time with him, there were still moments when his thick Zebra accent left you feeling lost in translation. "Sorry, Linus, could you run that by me again?" you requested sheepishly, feeling a pang of embarrassment knowing that Comet, who usually acted as your interpreter, wasn't around. Linus met your gaze with a sympathetic smile, understanding your predicament. "Ah, mi just did a likkle run-in wit Babylon, nuh worry 'bout it," he clarified, his words clearer this time around. "By Babylon, you mean bad dudes? Have you been fighting anypony?" You asked not only to make sure of the meaning of the word but also to find out about Linus' situation. "Somethin' like dat. Bein' a Zebra inna Equestria ain't no easy ting, ya zimmi? Mi woulda head back to Nazabre, but di place mash up from di radiation, so wi haffi seek opportunity yah," Linus elaborated, his movements fluid as he spoke, emphasizing the challenges faced by Zebras in their quest for survival in a hostile world. "I understand; it must be difficult having to move to the land of your enemies," you empathized, recognizing the weight of history that hung heavy on Linus's shoulders, even after centuries had passed. "Not everypony be my enemy, ya know. But mi still ha fi deal wid some bull bakka boys, seen? Di war dun long time 'go, dis hate nah do nuttin' but hold us back. Mi get beaten, mistreated, disrespected, all dat," Linus lamented, his frustration evident in both his words and his restless trotting from side to side. "And I guess reasoning with them wouldn't do any good," you murmured somberly, your gaze fixed on the ground beneath your feet. "Nah, boy, not at all. Dem rude bwoy dem, dem only understand di language o' bullets, not words," Linus concurred, his hoof gesturing emphatically as he spoke. "Dat Equestria done gone now, but dat was di world we had to live in. Ain't much we can do 'bout it now," he concluded with a resigned shrug. "I had also heard that the Zebras had massacred the royal family of Great Ponytain; what can you tell me about that? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to; I just want to know if that contributed to the hatred of why most ponies hate the Zebras," you inquired, your hand extending before settling on your waist, a sign of your curiosity. "Now dat yuh mention it, if dat's true, den mi boys did dat long time ago as payback fi di ting what happened in Littlehorn. Mi reckon di daughter o' di royal fam'ly di only one left, workin' as a prostitute an' ting. Poor gyal, she ain't deserve dat fate. Mi get why di ponies hate us, but dat be done an' dusted now, ya zimmi?" Linus explained, his hooves moving slowly and purposefully as he spoke, the weight of history evident in his words. When Linus had looked at you for a few seconds, you noticed that he had a wound on his face; it looked like a hoof mark. You weren't sure whether to ask Linus about it, but you couldn't help it; curiosity invaded you. "Hey Linus, what's up with that wound on your face?" you asked, gesturing to your own cheeks to indicate the mark. "Tsk, jus' a few hours 'fore ya rang mi, some bomboclats come an' give me a lick. But nah worry, mi good," Linus replied, taking a step back and glancing off to the side, a hint of discomfort in his demeanor. As you observed Linus, a surge of empathy washed over you, understanding the struggles he faced as a Zebra in a world divided by conflict. You knew both sides had their reasons, but seeing Linus caught in the crossfire stirred something within you. Despite his efforts to maintain a tough exterior, you could see the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "Linus, I'm sorry you have to go through all this, but you have to remember that you still have friends. What about Morning Glory and Comet? They aren't like brothers to you?" you offered, placing a comforting hand on Linus's back. "True dat, rude bwoy. Dem mi family, dem help mi out more times dan yuh can imagine. Mi know seh not all ponies be bull bakka, mi rely pon dem fi face di Babylon, seen?" Linus replied, punctuating his words with a friendly tap on your chest with his hooves, a gesture of camaraderie and solidarity. You gave Linus a reassuring pat on the back. "That's the spirit; how about we take a ride around Marechester while we talk?" you suggested, flashing him a smile. Linus's eyes lit up with excitement. "Sure ting, Linky! Sound like a blast, an' a good chance fi relax!" With eager nods, you and Linus made your way to his car, engaging in lively conversation as you settled into the seats. The sound of rock music blared from the speakers, filling the car with energy as you cruised through the streets of Marechester, soaking in the sights and sounds of the bustling cityscape.