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Description
“Get up, ya lazy piss stain,” a brown hoof poked, violently at the orange mare slumped on the couch, drooling on the pillow nestled under her head. The sun filtered through the tattered curtain, that clung to the pole above the window. Cans of foul liquid were left strewn across the dimly lit room. Used needles sat in a pile on the coffee table; which sat suspicious; perfectly perpendicular to the wall. The rude voice piercing the room screamed once more.
“I said get up, bitch!” this time it was accompanied by a crumpled can being thrown at the mare whom, despite her best efforts, was now awake. Her eyes looked tired and her wings were in a desperate need of preening. “Get on with cooking before I dig your fucking eyes out!” The voice of the stallion in the room rang out once more.
“Charming wake up call.” The mare sat up. She gently rubbed at her eyes and yawned into her wing, “Don’t recall asking for one though.” Smirking, she began preening the loose feathers out of her wings. The brown stallion who was enveloped in the shadow cast by the curtains was visibly angered by how little she cared for his orders. He stood up and flicked out a makeshift knife, with his wing, which was nothing more than a rusty piece of metal that he’d procured from the junkyard that was down the road. He spat at her, his orange and white streaked mane was greasy and stuck to his neck with sweat as he did.
“I won’t ask you again.” His voice was low and threatening but still the orange - now preened - mare seemed unperturbed by his aggressive display. Instead, she shook it off and scoffed as she left the room, flicking her tail at his face as she brushed past him.
“Good morning to you too, Mullock.” She purred.

Mullock followed her toward the kitchen. He was shaking with rage, or from his collapsing high, was unclear; even to him. His sister’s ignorance was pissing him off and she knew it. She was filling a teacup with some freshly brewed tea from the pot as he peered around the doorframe. Her calmness in this situation just angered Mullock even more.
“For fucks sake Curie! Don’t make me fucking beg!” With one hoof, he smacked the cup of hot tea that was being offered to him across the room and stabbed the shiv into the wall, sinking it through the plaster and stuck it deep in the foundation bricks. As he tried to pull it out; he screamed the mangled pit they called home down. Cursing Tainted Cure, or Curie as he endearingly called her. All she did was sip her tea, cradling the cup carefully with her wings - her tired eyes that were sunken into her head had began to pop more as the groggy morning haze that afflicted her mind began to subside, though a sharp headache had begun to take its place. Her hazel eyes began to shine in the rising sun that enveloped the kitchen, kissing each corner with its radiance. She glanced upward from the newspaper she was reading, the frontpage read “Crazed Pegasus Riots Through Ponyville! Pretends He’s a Pig!” Her eyes turned toward her brother, who was foaming at the mouth from how much effort he’d put into trying to pry the knife from the wall.
“You look like crap, Mullock. Where’d last night’s trip take you?” Curie spoke softly, her eloquent and well-spoken accent didn’t suit the environment she surrounded herself with. “You know, when I graduated university as a qualified chemist, being your cook was the last thing I had planned.” Mullock spat into Curie’s tea and chuckled at the act.
“Swish!” Mullock was still high but he was clearly crashing down from it.
“Charming.” Curie poured the tea down the sink with a look of disgust furling her lips. “You’re such a fucking child you know that?” Curie began yelling.

Their argument didn’t last long. It never did. For the last few years, Mullock would come home at the brink of dawn, rudely wake her up and demand she cook up some new drugs for him, the entire time he would constantly refer to his ‘fix’ whilst filling the auditory void of the house with rude insults and ballsy threats. At first, his behaviour scared her - she would make it for him when he asked - no arguments. Frightened about what he would do if she didn’t. She quickly learned though, when you’ve nowhere to go and nobody to turn to, you get desperate. And damn was Mullock desperate.

Tainted Cure sighed as she stared at the passed-out, drooling mess of a pony drooped against the kitchen door; still clutching at that knife in the wall. He was covered in mud, at least she hoped it was mud. If that newspaper was to be believed it probably wasn’t. “I swear to Celestia if you’ve gone out, high off your fucking head and rolled around in shit,” Curie began as she inhaled the matted mane of her deadbeat brother, quickly followed by a loud wretch, “you are just disgusting.” She rolled her eyes and pegged her nose with her wing as she dragged him to the bathroom, the faucet was already running. “But that’s why you have me.” She smiled as she dropped him in the fresh, warm water in the tub – humming a happy tune as she bathed him.

She loved her big brother.

- Written by ShaunRazz

Art by me

Characters belong to both me and Razz

Characters:

Whole story:

Precious Remedy #1Dear Diary,
  Today is a Monday! This is my first entry in my diary! Mother told me that a diary was something ponies use to chronicle their thoughts and organise memories into an easy to find place. So that we can always remember who we are! That sounds like something I would want to do. Father says my brother is a bad influence and that I should NEVER follow his example and if mother is to be believed then this diary is the best way for me to not follow brother’s poor example.
  “You’re going to be something one day Precious! Just make sure Mullock never leads you down a bad path! You will CURE this family of his TAINTED presence! Oh, I love you Precious Remedy! Always remember that!” Is what father always told me when I got a good grade at school! I hope I’ll always make him smile like that, mother too!
  “Get up, ya lazy piss stain,” a brown hoof poked, violently at the orange

Description
“Get up, ya lazy piss stain,” a brown hoof poked, violently at the orange mare slumped on the couch, drooling on the pillow nestled under her head. The sun filtered through the tattered curtain, that clung to the pole above the window. Cans of foul liquid were left strewn across the dimly lit room. Used needles sat in a pile on the coffee table; which sat suspicious; perfectly perpendicular to the wall. The rude voice piercing the room screamed once more.
“I said get up, bitch!” this time it was accompanied by a crumpled can being thrown at the mare whom, despite her best efforts, was now awake. Her eyes looked tired and her wings were in a desperate need of preening. “Get on with cooking before I dig your fucking eyes out!” The voice of the stallion in the room rang out once more.
“Charming wake up call.” The mare sat up. She gently rubbed at her eyes and yawned into her wing, “Don’t recall asking for one though.” Smirking, she began preening the loose feathers out of her wings. The brown stallion who was enveloped in the shadow cast by the curtains was visibly angered by how little she cared for his orders. He stood up and flicked out a makeshift knife, with his wing, which was nothing more than a rusty piece of metal that he’d procured from the junkyard that was down the road. He spat at her, his orange and white streaked mane was greasy and stuck to his neck with sweat as he did.
“I won’t ask you again.” His voice was low and threatening but still the orange - now preened - mare seemed unperturbed by his aggressive display. Instead, she shook it off and scoffed as she left the room, flicking her tail at his face as she brushed past him.
“Good morning to you too, Mullock.” She purred.

Mullock followed her toward the kitchen. He was shaking with rage, or from his collapsing high, was unclear; even to him. His sister’s ignorance was pissing him off and she knew it. She was filling a teacup with some freshly brewed tea from the pot as he peered around the doorframe. Her calmness in this situation just angered Mullock even more.
“For fucks sake Curie! Don’t make me fucking beg!” With one hoof, he smacked the cup of hot tea that was being offered to him across the room and stabbed the shiv into the wall, sinking it through the plaster and stuck it deep in the foundation bricks. As he tried to pull it out; he screamed the mangled pit they called home down. Cursing Tainted Cure, or Curie as he endearingly called her. All she did was sip her tea, cradling the cup carefully with her wings - her tired eyes that were sunken into her head had began to pop more as the groggy morning haze that afflicted her mind began to subside, though a sharp headache had begun to take its place. Her hazel eyes began to shine in the rising sun that enveloped the kitchen, kissing each corner with its radiance. She glanced upward from the newspaper she was reading, the frontpage read “Crazed Pegasus Riots Through Ponyville! Pretends He’s a Pig!” Her eyes turned toward her brother, who was foaming at the mouth from how much effort he’d put into trying to pry the knife from the wall.
“You look like crap, Mullock. Where’d last night’s trip take you?” Curie spoke softly, her eloquent and well-spoken accent didn’t suit the environment she surrounded herself with. “You know, when I graduated university as a qualified chemist, being your cook was the last thing I had planned.” Mullock spat into Curie’s tea and chuckled at the act.
“Swish!” Mullock was still high but he was clearly crashing down from it.
“Charming.” Curie poured the tea down the sink with a look of disgust furling her lips. “You’re such a fucking child you know that?” Curie began yelling.

Their argument didn’t last long. It never did. For the last few years, Mullock would come home at the brink of dawn, rudely wake her up and demand she cook up some new drugs for him, the entire time he would constantly refer to his ‘fix’ whilst filling the auditory void of the house with rude insults and ballsy threats. At first, his behaviour scared her - she would make it for him when he asked - no arguments. Frightened about what he would do if she didn’t. She quickly learned though, when you’ve nowhere to go and nobody to turn to, you get desperate. And damn was Mullock desperate.

Tainted Cure sighed as she stared at the passed-out, drooling mess of a pony drooped against the kitchen door; still clutching at that knife in the wall. He was covered in mud, at least she hoped it was mud. If that newspaper was to be believed it probably wasn’t. “I swear to Celestia if you’ve gone out, high off your fucking head and rolled around in shit,” Curie began as she inhaled the matted mane of her deadbeat brother, quickly followed by a loud wretch, “you are just disgusting.” She rolled her eyes and pegged her nose with her wing as she dragged him to the bathroom, the faucet was already running. “But that’s why you have me.” She smiled as she dropped him in the fresh, warm water in the tub – humming a happy tune as she bathed him.

She loved her big brother.

- Written by ShaunRazz

Art by me

Characters belong to both me and Razz

Characters:

Whole story:

Precious Remedy #1Dear Diary,
  Today is a Monday! This is my first entry in my diary! Mother told me that a diary was something ponies use to chronicle their thoughts and organise memories into an easy to find place. So that we can always remember who we are! That sounds like something I would want to do. Father says my brother is a bad influence and that I should NEVER follow his example and if mother is to be believed then this diary is the best way for me to not follow brother’s poor example.
  “You’re going to be something one day Precious! Just make sure Mullock never leads you down a bad path! You will CURE this family of his TAINTED presence! Oh, I love you Precious Remedy! Always remember that!” Is what father always told me when I got a good grade at school! I hope I’ll always make him smile like that, mother too!
  “Get up, ya lazy piss stain,” a brown hoof poked, violently at the orange