A burnt-out druggie attempts suicide to escape his woes. Concerned, a certain alicorn intervenes.
A burnt-out druggie named Jeremy Robin attempts suicide to escape his woes. Concerned, a certain alicorn steps in and intervenes just in the nick of time.
With the help of some pastel ponies and the power of friendship, Jeremy sets out down the road to recovery.
~ ~ ~
The second story in my Psychedelica series, stories inspired largely by psychedelics. Remember, kids, just because I do drugs doesn't mean that I advocate it. You can mess yourself up permanently and I have no doubt that there are going to be some pretty serious consequences for me to face someday very soon. Don't be me, kids, be smart and get high on life and the awesomeness of ponies instead!
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter One – Jaded Cynicism Vs. Saccharine Sweetness
~ ~ ~
Do you know where being the smartest kid in class gets you if you don't have the money or resources to follow high school with college? A job as a gas station attendant in Dayton, Kentucky and enough heroin to kill a bull elephant.
Life's a bitch sometimes.
Track team didn't get me anywhere either. I made it to state twice but came up short both times. Pretty humiliating, all in all, at the very least enough to ward away all the scholarship recruiters.
Tossing my credit card down onto the table, I fished a bag of off-white gravel out of my pocket and proceeded to crunch it up between my fingers. Sufficiently powdered, I poured two lines of it onto the table, scraped them nice and neat with the card, then snorted them through a straw made out of a tightly rolled 20 dollar bill.
Houston, we have liftoff.
Well, heroin being heroin, I suppose liftdown would be more accurate, but that's if we're nitpicking.
Are we nitpicking?
Next up was the vicodin. My tea tamp powdered two pills quickly and, using that, I drew a nice line across a nearby copy of Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery. Re-rolling the 20, I shrugged my shoulders and snorted that as well.
Andrew Jackson, you were a bastard, but just this once I guess I'll salute you.
Lastly, I cracked open a Pabst Blue Ribbon. Hey, I'm cheap, not a hipster. Don't look at me like that.
Sitting down in my designated seat, my saggy argyle couch, I scanned the table in front of me and took inventory of the items covering it:
Checklist? Check.
Awful, horse urine beer? Check.
Suicide Note? Check.
Double-checked and revised last will and testament? Check.
Rope? Check.
Vinyl copy of Bak'en'al by Mischief Brew? Check.
Entire stash of drugs and digital camera for GG Allin style, post-mortem pictures? Check.
Turning around for a moment, I gave myself one final appraisal in the body-length mirror spanning the inside of my closet door. Bony and lanky, sure, but I'd at least had the good sense to dress myself up nicely for the occasion. I'd combed my long blonde hair and pulled it back into a modest ponytail, out of the way of my baby blues. My black suit and black tie, freshly laundered a day earlier, practically shined.
Smiling in spite of everything, I nodded in satisfaction and set about the task of tying a noose and hanging the rope from the ceiling. Stealing a quick chuckle at the thought of spinning around the room while tied to the fan, I wrapped everything up in minutes and soon found myself dicking around with my temperamental record player.
Not unlike an old car, it needs to be coaxed to life with a couple of decent smacks before it's going to function properly.
“I am a leader, but you will not follow me I ain't no preacher, for I'm full of blasphemy See you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, boys! Hey!”
~ ~ ~
Standing up on top of a folding steel chair, I placed the noose around my neck and took a deep breath.
~ ~ ~
“Like an angel who's been dancin' with some devils I'm a bad girl with a hope for better days My laughter is spiced with mischief I won't toss the salt, kiss it up, or pray When you offer pink or blue, I'll take the blackest When you offer only two, I'll offer three When you point me in a direction, I'll go backwards And at the border of utopia, I'll toast to anarchy!”
~ ~ ~
The Protomen poster I'd stolen from their show at the Madison Theater gleamed in my room's dim fluorescence, Doctor Light crouched broken on the ground as Wiley's evil empire climbed high into the sky around him.
I know the feeling, man.
~ ~ ~
“'Cause fire and rock, I'm coming home to you While I'm picking the bones out of my dinner stew Open up the gates of Hell and roll me through Fire and rock, I'm coming home to you
I am a leader, but you will not follow me I ain't no preacher, for I'm full of blasphemy See you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, boys! Hey!”
~ ~ ~
I took another deep breath and shifted my weight from foot to foot, stalling.
Last chance.
This is what I want, right?
~ ~ ~
“So you're saying Satan's army is rising up soon? Well if it is, I'm secretary of no state! Got riches, rocks, and bottles in my tool pouch My desire is society's jail bait
'Cause there's tons of guys moping about the workday Dimes by the dozens Their song weighs a thousand pounds But there's nothing like a lady with a buzz saw I just might build your house, but I just might tear it down”
~ ~ ~
Yeah, this is what I want.
~ ~ ~
“Yeah, barkeeper we'll surely have another To the witches, to the goblins, and the trolls I'll be coming to recruit your rebel children There ain't no use in locking doors, There's one of me in every hole
With mud on my boots, And blood on my jeans I'll take those pretty dresses, Tear 'em at the seams Roll me through the gate of Hell Ah, please And I'll be back in your daughter's dreams
I am a leader, but you will not follow me I ain't no preacher, for I'm full of blasphemy See you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, See you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, See you in Hell, boys! Haha!”
~ ~ ~
“Hope they play Mustard Plug and Reel Big Fish at the funeral,” I smirked to nobody in particular. “No one can cry to that.”
Jeremy Robin, failure extraordinaire, signing off.
With a hard slam from my right heel, I kicked the chair out from under me and dropped like a stone.
…
…
…
…
…
“What?” I mused aloud, more than a little confused.
Curiously, I found that I was suspended in midair with an inexplicable golden aura surrounding me. Every twist, turn, and glance over my shoulder sent me spinning in uncontrollable circles.
“The fuck?” I commented as I scratched my head and tried to get my bearings straight while floating. “Am I... am I dead already?”
After a few more seconds spent puzzling over my odd predicament, I smacked myself in the forehead with my palm as the obvious dawned on me.
Reaching up, I tugged on the rope. My hands, just as solid as they've ever been, were greeted by a rough and fibery texture and didn't pass through it.
“Well, I'm not a ghost,” I stated, rubbing my chin in concentration. “At least I don't think I'm a ghost.”
Gripping the rope firmly with both hands, I swung myself around and braced my feet against the ceiling, effectively standing upside-down.
“And the Strangeness Train just keeps on rolli~
Rudely interrupted before I could finish my thought, and audible slice from an unknown source cleaved the rope into two pieces. The noose went slack around my neck, resembling a low budget collar and leash, while the rest remained affixed to the ceiling.
Admiring my new necktie with raised eyebrows, I questioned the empty room, “Okay, I give. Please, somebody, what the Hell is going on?”
Answering me, the soft light surrounding my body winked out and the floor came rushing up to greet me.
Hard.
The nightstand next to my bed shook as I hit the oak floor and sent my trick handkerchief, some Houdini handcuffs, and a deck of cards tumbling down to join me. One of the jokers landed on my nose.
“Har har, universe,” I grumbled. “Now quit it and lemme kill myself in peace!”
“I'd really rather not,” came a soft but commanding voice.
My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped as a white unicorn with wings and an aurora borealis mane and tail stepped out of the darkness of what I had only seconds ago assumed was my empty closet.
Now, however, I wasn't so sure.
“E-excuse me?” I stammered, a bit out of my depth when it comes to having conversations with mythological creatures.
“I'd really rather you didn't kill yourself,” it repeated with a knicker, its wings rustling.
Despite Maxwell's silver hammer's best efforts, my heart thundered into overdrive from the adrenaline rush granted by the combination of not-dying, levitating, falling flat on my face, and speaking with a winged horse. Licking my lips, I pushed myself up off of the floor and brushed the dust off of my pants.
Eying the unicorn-pegasus-thing warily, I asked, “Well, thanks, that's nice to know... but who are you?”
Outstretching a hoof, it replied, “Princess Celestia of Equestria. Your plight came to me in a vision while I was meditating over a cup of tea in my contemplation tower.”
A princess? A horse princess?
Maybe the heroin was hitting me harder than I thought.
Stepping forward, close enough to touch me, it wrapped its wings around me like a blanket and, much to my surprise, turned back to face my closet and shouted, “Luna! Cadance! Now!”
Which is approximately when all Hell broke loose.
Like a vacuum, hurricane force winds devoured everything in my room, the closet door itself no exception.
I won't lie to you, alright? It had been a pretty crazy day. I'd finally worked up the nerve to do the deed, went and bought everything that I needed to get it done right, then took the leap... and then survived, came face to face with some kind of magical creature, and got eaten by a whirling funnel of wind emanating from my own storage space.
What I'm getting at is, well, I blacked out.
Can you blame me?
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Two – Strange Second Chances...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Two – Strange Second Chances
~ ~ ~
While the roaring winds had finally managed to die down, my eyes continued to spin wildly for several more minutes. Up was suddenly down, down became up, left was right, and right was left behind.
Long story short, I vomited.
“Keith Moon, eat your heart out,” I muttered as I went to wipe the puke from my chin.
Rather than my hand, a clumsy hoof smeared the chunks and bile further into my fuzzy beard.
Wait, beard?
I was certain I'd shaved my chin smooth earlier in the morni~
WAIT, HOOF?!
The second adrenaline rush in under 10 minutes hit my system like a bolt of lightning and had me standing up and alert in microseconds.
Fuzzy chin?
Not one, but four hooves?
Tail?
Last time I checked, and I'd like to think I would notice, I didn't have any of that.
“I'm supposed to be an old pro when it comes to drugs,” I monologued, aware of the fact that there were others in my company but a little too preoccupied at the moment to care. “I don't trip this hard. I'm a 26-year-old man. I haven't tripped this hard since I was in high school.”
Backing up steadily with each word, I soon bumped rump-first into something much larger than myself. Turning around slowly, my eyes met the magenta pair that had appeared before me from out of the darkness back in my room.
“While I'm not completely familiar with all of the colloquialisms, I do believe 'tripping' indicates hallucinations, yes?” asked the white horse as she wrapped her wings around me again.
A golden aura surrounded her horn and, all of a sudden, my fears just seemed to evaporate. Without any such effort on my part, my pulse slowed back down to a more reasonable rate and the rigid tension in my shoulders uncoiled.
With eyes as wide as saucers, I shook my head free of the remaining cobwebs and questioned, “H-how did you~
“Magic,” the winged-unicorn said with a wink.
Magic. Of course.
Well, she's a talking horse with a horn and a pair of wings, so why not magic too?
“Princess Celestia, was it?” I asked once I had collected my frazzled nerves.
There was more than a little apprehension in my voice.
“Yes?” she replied, her tone soft and maternal.
Screwing my eyes shut, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and said, “Can you give me a moment? Just... just a moment, alright? I need to think.”
“Of course,” she answered, her wings returning to her sides as she took several steps away and gave me some space.
Okay then, here we go. I said I was an old pro when it comes to drugs and, dammit, I most certainly am.
Taking in several deep and relaxing breaths, the taste of natural salt tickled my tongue after I licked my lips. Shifting my full weight between my new... forelegs, left to right and then right to left, I felt the pressure on my transformed ankles come and go with each shift. My ears, also changed, scanned the room around me like twin satellite dishes and picked up the gentle sounds of three others breathing.
“Psst, what's he doing?”
“Hush, Cadance. He is deep in meditation, sharpening his focus to better separate fact from fantasy.”
“Oh... well. That's... neat?”
“Shush.”
Grimacing in irritation, I quickly subdued the urge to smack the one called Cadance and continued with my self-examination.
A few more deep breaths brought to my attention several fragrances rolled into one. Freshly cut grass and clipped hedges, along with the smell of immanent rain, filled my nostrils brim. Spring was, quite literally, in the air.
“Hearing, touch, smell, taste, and sight,” I sighed, having a difficult time believing the words even as they left my mouth. “All five are accounted for. I'm... not hallucinating.”
“How are you feeling?” asked Celestia, clear concern in her voice.
Turning around to face her, I took in the curious sight of three pastel ponies as they sat patiently and awaited my response. The largest was Princess Celestia, whom I had already met. Sitting on either side of her, however, were two new faces. One was colored with the deep blues of a midnight sky, glimmering motes of light blinking and twinkling in her flowing mane. The other, pink and purple like a living piece of candy, sat with quite a lot less poise and patience than her peers.
“Confused,” I eventually uttered. “Very, profoundly confused.”
Narrowing my eyes, I quickly searched my dazed brain for something concrete to hold on to, something to function as a foundation for the rest of the conversation before I stumbled all over my words again.
“Your plight came to me in a vision while I was meditating over a cup of tea in my contemplation tower.”
In the end, my argumentative nature won.
“You've been... watching me?” I asked, my tone incredulous.
Looking downcast, Celestia flapped her wings in frustration and said, “I was hoping you might recover on your own, but clearly, if what we just interrupted was in any way evidence, things have only worsened.”
“You think?” I snorted, the two words practically leaking retained sarcasm.
Prepared to make myself look like an even bigger jerk, several colorful remarks already on the tip of my tongue, the loud slamming of a pair of doors echoed through the room and interrupted my frustrated thought process.
“I'm sorry, Your Highnesses, we couldn't stop her!” shouted what I suspected to be a guard.
“She put Silver Shield through a wall!” exclaimed another.
"I'm... okay..." sputtered a dazed third voice.
With a bubblegum-like pop, a purple pony around only half the size of the other three appeared in a festive flash of sparks.
“Twilight, I thought I told you to wait in the throne roo~
But Celestia trailed off as the small equine she was addressing stepped forward and faced me, eye to eye.
She looked like she had seen better days.
“You're... you're the one, aren't you? You are... you're the one I saw in the tower.”
Backing away again, perhaps a reflexive response of mine or something, I looked away and stammered, “Y-you saw me?”
“We both did,” clarified Celestia as she beckoned the smaller pony over to her with a hoof. “I was enjoying a cup of jasmine tea in my contemplation tower, showing my student here how I send and receive letters using draconic magic, when it happened. For a second no longer than the span of a single heartbeat, we saw through space and time and felt your pain.”
Left completely dumbfounded, my mouth hanging open and everything, I just sat there and let that explanation sink in.
Stars and stones, did I have a guardian angel or something?
“Tearing asunder the fabric of reality was no easy task,” spoke the midnight blue pony, her tone somewhat harsher than her peer's but no less compassionate.
“No kidding, I thought my horn was going to explode!” added the pink one with a giggle.
Scuffing at the floor with one hoof, Celestia's lavender student, Twilight, shook her head and questioned meekly, “Why?”
Why...
A great question that I really didn't feel like delving into.
As I struggled to come up with a half-decent excuse for attempting to kill myself, something that even a practiced lawyer would have trouble pulling off, Twilight piped up again, a sudden strength and energy behind her words as she pleaded, “I know it must have taken all of your courage to finally do what you just tried to do, but living is so much more courageous!”
Taken aback by the emotional outburst, I gritted my teeth and thought back on all of the bullshit I had put up with before deciding on taking the plunge with a noose around my neck.
Sure, suicide's sad, but it was my worthless life that I was throwing away. It was still my decision, wasn't it?
Wasn't it?!
“That's a lovely philosophy, really it is, but I don't even know you, lady!”
“And I don't know the first thing about you either, but do you know what? A long time ago, when I was a little filly fresh out of magic kindergarten, my teacher taught me to protect life whenever I found it in danger. Not for the sake of renown, wealth, or faith, but simply for the sake of life itself.”
Frowning in aggravation, I rolled my eyes and prepared a snarky rebuttal, but fell silent when she trotted over and sat down beside me.
Her eyes were wet.
Letting out a breath that I'd been holding in for a while, I hesitantly lifted a hoof and wiped a tear away as it slid down her cheek.
She'd said it herself, she had no idea who I really was… and yet here she was crying over me anyway.
Fuck.
“Look, it'll be alright,” I assured her as best I could, still more than a little uncertain myself. “It's touching that you care this much without having ever really known me or spoken with me before, it really is, but this is what I want. Life's... hard. Really hard. I tried and tried and tried for a good five years after high school, really gave it my all, but nothing ever worked. None of the colleges wanted me and, with the economy floundering between recession and depression, no one wanted to hire me either. I slept my way around the tri-state, tried to fill the void growing inside me with easy sex, but that didn't work. My social awkwardness sent most of the guys and gals running for the hills and all of the drugs and alcohol scared away all the others. I... just don't have anything left to live for. That apartment was all I really had left, and shit, that wasn't going to last very much longer either. I've been past due on my rent for months; getting kicked out into the streets became less a question of if and more a question of when. I dunno, I just figured that ending everything early would spare me some cold Decembers. I'd rather die dangling from a rope in my room than shivering under a pile of newspapers on a park bench somewhere.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the part reserved for taking stock of the current situation, I noted my sudden tiredness and lack of energy.
Oh, right. The adrenaline rushes.
“Twilight, I'd love to keep consoling you and apologizing for being such a selfish bastard, but there's some unconsciousness with my name on it,” I slurred just before slumping forward and doing what heroin typically makes you do.
Drool.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Three – Kicking and Screaming in the Throes of Withdrawal...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Three – Kicking and Screaming in the Throes of Withdrawal
~ ~ ~
Vomiting and blacking out. I've been doing a lot of that recently.
I awoke blearily in a strange bed and immediately lurched over the side to evacuate the contents of my stomach out and onto the floor. Running on empty, all I had to offer was watery bile. As I went to wipe my chin, I stopped myself halfway, remembering the shoddy job that I had done last time.
“Bathroom sink then,” I muttered around the bitter taste in my mouth.
It was an assumption, but one that I felt was fair. If there was a four poster bed with freshly laundered linens and pillows, there was probably a modern bathroom as well.
“Sink,” I repeated, mantra-style, as I sat up.
Getting up out of the bed was a mistake. As soon as I put my full weight onto my new... hooves, a searing pain shot through my limbs and pulled me down to the ground. A brief battle with gravity ensued, but I knew straight away that I was in no condition to win it. Overcome by aches and a sudden wave of nausea, I fell into my own puke puddle and, as the rancid smell filled my nostrils, I involuntarily went double-or-nothing and threw up again. My chest burned as though I'd swallowed a ball of pure fire, the dry heaving painful enough to bring tears to my eyes. With my nose running like a leaky faucet and my new fur coat a ruined, disgusting mess, I gritted my teeth and slowly forced myself into a standing position.
Suffice to say, it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
Several excruciating minutes later, having made it across the room, I found myself leaning against the bedroom's door and putting forth my best effort to hold back what little liquid remained in me. I had apparently decided at some point that it was wisest to keep my eyes closed, but having forgotten that amidst my pre-vomit concentration, I opened them again.
The room immediately began to spin like a top. Clockwise at first, then as if in mockery, counter-clockwise twice as fast.
Like an idiot, I attempted to follow it with my eyes for the full seven seconds necessary to make me fall forward, slam my nose against the doorknob, and toss my cookies again.
Me and these “agains”, goddamn.
“Fuck!” I garbled, a mouth full of blood and bile somewhat difficult to yell through.
The staccato clatter of hooves against wood told me that someone was on their way up a flight of stairs somewhere inside my head. After the stars stopped spinning and I stopped seeing dots, I realized that the door had been forced open and that someone was standing over me, inspecting me.
Flopping my battered noggin to the side, I was rewarded with a picturesque scene of the night sky through an open window, the sun having just sunk below the horizon.
Hey, wait... That reminded me of something.
Someone.
“Twilight?” I quietly called out.
“Yes?” she replied.
Squinting my eyes, I looked up and saw the purple pony standing there looking tense and utterly serious, as though she'd go to war with a foreign power if I asked her to.
It would have been adorable had I not felt like a pile of sewage at the time.
“Bathroom,” I croaked. “Bath.”
With an affirmative nod, Twilight stood up and set to work. Either she was stronger than she looked or she could levitate me just as Celestia had, but regardless, the little thing still managed to lift me all the same. Whisking me down what looked like a topsy-turvy hallway from a fun house, she quickly deposited me in a large porcelain tub and turned the hot water faucet with a metallic squeak. I was vaguely aware of the fact that there must have been a flood because there was water up to my knees, when suddenly, a great deal of shampoo was squirted onto my head without warning and roughly worked into a lather. The next hour or two were spent unceremoniously scrubbing my coat clean of the vile, self-produced gunk that I had worked into it. A nearby wastebasket was filled over the course of the bath, Twilight expertly predicting my puke and guiding me to the receptacle before I could ever get any of it into the water. Periodically, a warm washcloth floated over to my nose and dabbed away a spot or two of blood as it appeared.
Eventually, I blinked and found myself standing by the side of the tub, dripping all over the floor as Twilight applied towel after towel to me. The large mirror affixed to the wall adjacent to me displayed a pathetic sight. A damp pony with a brown coat and sandy blonde mane stood shivering from more than just the cold, his blue eyes sunken-in, unfocused, and baggy. I lifted a lethargic hoof and pressed it to the glass, hoping that the sad reflection somehow wasn't mine and wouldn't mimic my movements. With a pained groan, I watched as the sickly creature did exactly as I did.
All in all, I looked just about ready for the glue factory.
“How are you feeling?” questioned my caregiver as she scrutinized her cleaning work from a few paces away.
“Oh, well, that's a bit worse than what I was expec~
Cutting her off with a wave of my hoof, I prepared the lie that every addicted junkie has stashed in reserve for when they're put in the care of someone with the potential to be an unintentional enabler.
Medicine.
“Before you say anything else, do you remember all of the things that should have come with me? I was... sucked into a portal or something in my closet, it's a long story.”
“I was there, remember?”
“I'm the one asking the questions here. Anyway, did my stuff come with me? At the time, it felt kind of like a giant vacuum cleaner was just sucking everything out of there and I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of things go through before me. Did any of it?”
“Yes, actually,” she answered, narrowing her eyes. “I took the liberty of gathering all of your belongings that we could find and had them shipped here.”
“Where is... here?”
“My home, the Ponyville Public Library.”
Ponyville? Really?
Creative name, guys.
“I haven't had the time to sort through it to see if any of it was broken while in transit, either during the trip from your world or during the cargo-carriage ride from the palace,” Twilight stated as she turned and exited the room, motioning for me to follow her. “Besides, it's rude to rifle through another pony's things.”
The police do it all the time.
“Right,” I muttered to nobody in particular. “Rude.”
“Princess Celestia and I felt that it would be in your best interest if you were removed from all the stimuli and noisy bustle of the palace,” she continued as she navigated the considerably more normal hallway and then down a staircase. “You seemed quite ill and, looking at you now, still do.”
Ill?
Well, damn, I couldn't have guided the conversation along any better than that even if I tried.
“You could say that, yes,” I said, putting on a mask of neutrality that I felt was already rapidly cracking. “I'm coming down off of some medication that I've been on for some time and still need, that's actually why I asked you about my things.”
Heading straight for a small kitchen, Twilight ducked into a pantry and came back out with a backpack that looked as though it had gone through two wars... plus one.
Holding the bag aloft for me to see, my host deadpanned.
Damn, the jig was up before it even began.
Thinking quickly, which wasn't very quick at all, I spat, “Didn't you tell me you hadn't gone rooting around through my junk?”
“I lied.”
“Oh. Well, you were right, that's rude.”
“Apparently, just as you were ejected from the portal, several of the palace's contraband sniffing Diamond Dogs had to flee the premises due to spontaneous, uncontrollable nosebleeds,” Twilight commented, giving the bag a hard, appraising look. “Now, I know I can be a bit excitable sometimes, maybe even gullible, but I know narcotics when I see them. There's enough in here to kill you ten times over!”
There wasn't much I could say in response to that.
My stash really was that considerable.
“So, you're a substance abuser and these are the substances that you abuse, right?” Twilight interrogated, still levitating the loaded bag.
“Yes, Captain Obvious, I am and they are. Now, if you'd be so kind, Cokie the Clown needs his bag of tricks, so please, would you be a dear and GIVE ME THAT BAG?!”
Lunging forward with all of my exhausted, nauseous might, I tried to snatch the backpack full of drugs out of the air, but came up short and landed in a heap on the floor as it floated higher, just barely out of my reach.
I glared daggers at the purple pony, locking eyes with her in search of a chink in her armor. Maybe she could only maintain this level of determination for so long?
No such luck.
The fiery intensity in her eyes gave absolutely no quarter. If she didn't want me to get that bag, I wouldn't be getting it.
The realization that I'd be spending the next week and a half hating and despising this pony girl I had only hours earlier been introduced to was a tad shocking and hit me like an atomic bomb.
She was just trying to help me...
She really didn't deserve to be called the whole slew of things that I would most definitely end up calling her or the holy Hell that I was most certainly going to raise.
Dammit.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Four – ''Nurse, I need 30ccs of friendship, stat!''...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Four – “Nurse, I need 30ccs of friendship, stat!”
~ ~ ~
I'll admit, my first impression of Spike was a bit biased. Watching the little dragon bathe somewhere close to 3,000 dollars worth of drugs in a wave of emerald fire didn't exactly leave me with the desire to throw a party in his honor and cheer his name. Rather, I was screaming it at the top of my lungs while flailing around fruitlessly in midair, my vengeful rampage held at bay all too easily by Twilight's fucking levitation spell.
I'd learned over the course of the past two weeks to really, really hate that spell.
Not that she was a one trick pony, mind you (pun very much intended).
If anything, Twilight's absurd levels of preparation were even more aggravating. Like some sort of drug-seeking missile, she scoured the building in search of each and every substance that could conceivably be abused. Ranging from legitimate vices like alcohol and prescription meds to a mishmash of dubious stand-ins like bath salts, mouthwash, hoof sanitizer, and just about any and all aerosols; if you could name it, she'd already disposed of it.
Predictably, I'd responded to this complete cleansing of my environment with empty threats against my two hosts and very real threats against myself.
Now, I don't want anybody to get the wrong idea about me or anything. I'd put a Hell of a lot of work and thought into hanging myself back in my room. It's the kind of thing that really needs a lot of forethought, you know? It took me about three months to work up the nerve to decide to go through with it and two additional months of faffing about to decide exactly how I was going to do it. And shit, that's not even mentioning all of the brainstorming I'd spent on planning the right atmosphere for the whole hullabaloo too. If it makes me a music nerd, fuck it, I don't care, but making sure that the right song would be playing while I dangled like a single-stringed marionette was really important to me.
Ugh... shit, I'm rambling again. Look, the point is: for me, suicide took time and planning.
However, that brings up a question. Was I that patient about ending my life while suffering from heroin withdrawal?
No, not so much.
My first attempt as soon as I felt that all pairs of prying eyes were otherwise preoccupied was to break a plate and try to slit my wris~ ankle with it. As it turned out, not only was I weaker than I thought, but Twilight's plates were made of tougher stuff than most other dinnerware I had encountered in the past, some kind of futuristic neo-ceramic that was resistant to manic jackasses or something.
She found me not long after I began banging it against a wall while whistling nonchalantly and took it from me.
I then waited for a day to pass and the storm to blow over before giving it another try, this time with a shard from a mirror I'd broken with a broom handle. Unfortunately, despite arguments that she wasn't much of an athlete, my hostess still managed to tune in on the clatter and gallop up the stairs to the bathroom in time to interrupt before anything could happen.
What followed was profoundly confusing, but I watched with wide eyes as her horn sparked and the various pieces of the mirror all came back together and the mirror itself became whole again.
Showoff.
Anyway, those were my lower-key tries. Small potatoes, really. My third attempt was quite a bit more eventful...
Only after jumping from the observatory on the fourth story balcony in a desperate bid to have the last laugh did I discover just what happens to the things that end up surrounded by Spike's curiously green fire. For a split-second, barely even enough time to register what had happened to me, I felt the most intense pain I had ever experienced in my entire life. Immediately thereafter, however, I found myself falling face-first into the alabaster body of the one responsible for my rather sizable list of current woes (in my mind anyway). Somehow nonplussed over the whole “junkie spontaneously appearing out of thin air” thing, Princess Celestia simply regarded me with a sad expression and a single shake of her head.
In other words, I'd disappointed her.
Oddly, that sort of... disappointed me.
A guard in golden armor then escorted me from Celestia's personal quarters without another word, loaded me onto a flying carriage, and took me back to the library-tree. The length of the flight gave me some time to collect my thoughts, though that ponderance ended up being even more of an emotionally draining mistake. Upon my return, it was clear that Twilight had prepared a speech or lecture of some kind to reprimand me with, but she fell silent when I finally broke down and started crying.
It wasn't my proudest moment... but I can't deny that I needed it.
Heck, it was still daylight outside and even the owl flew over to comfort me. That was when I learned his name, Owlowiscious. I'm assuming Twilight was purposefully aiming for something with too many syllables, because otherwise I'm stumped. Then again, I suppose it does fit pretty well. Just about everyone I'd met thus far had a name that was in some way indicative of either what they were, what they enjoyed, or what they were skilled at.
If anything, my name was the most out of place. Funny, that.
The next couple of days were, while still thoroughly terrible, markedly less terrible. I tossed and turned in bed, saw hallucinations, heard voices, vomited regularly, and generally felt as though my body were being eroded away like a sandy shoreline against a gnawing ocean. Still, I will admit, something had changed because I did somehow manage to keep myself from hurting... well... myself. It took all of my restraint at times, but for some reason, there was a sudden urge in me to hold onto that restraint. I didn't really know or understand why, but I didn't have the energy to ponder it much either.
What was worth pondering was Twilight's subsequent shift in demeanor. Put simply, it was a tad jarring, though in a good way. Given the situation, my instability had been the only thing really keeping me from connecting with my kindhearted caretaker. With that issue resolved (for the moment anyway), I watched as an instantly less combative and much more compassionate pony took the unicorn's place, clearly eager to help me begin the healing process.
Spike followed suit not long after, but not before Twilight dictated a letter declaring their success and had him send it in a jet of jade fire.
The conversations that people think you're not eavesdropping in on while you're hunched over a toilet and dry-heaving until your chest collapses, am I right, fellas? But whatever, all things considered, I was in a better mood than I had been in a long, long time. I rolled my eyes and let them have their victory, then resumed my clandestine ritual by making another offering to the porcelain alter.
Not long after that was when the stories started.
Bedtime stories after I spent the rest of the day moaning and producing puke of various interesting colors. Fantastical, impossible stories about adventures that I'd grown to believe were the stuff of faerie tales and nothing more. Then again, that's coming from a guy who'd been kidnapped via a portal in his closet and became a technicolor equine, so who was I to really argue?
Twilight told me about Princess Luna's fall from grace and her transformation into “the wicked mare of darkness”, Nightmare Moon. After an attempt to usurp the throne, she was banished by her elder sister to the moon for a thousand years, but eventually returned to give the exact same scheme another shot. With her sister trapped in the sun and powerless to stop her, she came close to having her everlasting night served to her on a silver platter, but my purple nurse and the five mares that would later become her closest friends rose to the occasion and struck her down in Princess Celestia's stead. They'd struggled through dangerous obstacles and tests of character, navigated a wild forest full of deadly beasts, and faced a mighty foe with only the incredibly cheesy power of friendship on their side.
And they'd won.
Then there was Discord, a mad god with the power to do pretty much anything he wanted. He presided over chaos and apparently sought to bring that which he presided over to the rest of the world. Though sounding somehow even more far-fetched than the previous tale, I still couldn't take my attention away from my storyteller for a single second. Her and her friends had been corrupted, their greatest strengths gutted and pulled inside-out. Changing from Honesty, Laughter, Generosity, Kindness, Loyalty, and Magic into Mendacity, Anger, Greed, Cruelty, Betrayal, and... whatever the opposite of Magic is, they started fighting amongst themselves and fell apart as a team. Dejected, a monochrome Twilight walked home and prepared to leave for lands unknown when a flood of letters suddenly began returning to their original sender. Each held a lesson on friendship, Twilight's friendship, and helped her regain her sense of self and will to fight... as well as all of her, uh, purple.
What followed was a trek across the wrecked town to each of her friends' houses. With a bit of magical help from her in the form of a memory spell, they too remembered who they were, who their friends were, and why they had to struggle for what had been momentarily stripped from them. Brought back together, this time with Rainbow Dash instead of her stand-in, Spike, they strode up to Discord as he sat on his throne drinking the glass out from under some chocolate milk and they challenged him a second time.
This time, order beat anarchy. One might even say it was a stone cold victory.
No, I won't apologize for that joke.
But whatever, back to the stories.
Next came Queen Chrysalis and her changeling hoard. Strange, cheese-legged, insectoid-ponies capable of hiding in plain sight by mimicking the appearance of your loved ones and nourishing themselves by feeding off of your love for whoever they've replaced.
Hey, don't look at me like that. If I'm lyin' I'm dyin', I swear.
Twilight and her friends, once they finally believed her, put up a good fight, but this time an even cheesier force claimed victory.
The goddamn power of love.
I'd make fun of it more if it weren't so damned beautiful. I've spent my life thinking that things like this were worthless... and to hear that they've saved the day, spared a kingdom from conquest, and brought countless other together... well... it brings a tear or two to my eyes.
I'm jaded, I'm angry, I'm bitter, I'm depressed, and I'm in a state of physical agony that only others suffering from withdrawal could ever hope to empathize with... but do you know what?
For once, I think I'm getting better.
Confound these ponies. Confound this friendship.
Give me a moment. I need another good cry.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Five - Breakfast for Three...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Five – Breakfast for Three
~ ~ ~
Pancakes.
Why does every innocent breakfast always start with pancakes?
Do you have any idea how self-consciousness a person I am, how much I would hate to ruin the purity of such a breakfast?
And yet...
“T-twilight?” I asked, more than a little nervous.
Patiently, my hostess responded, “Yes?”
“I'm sorry. You know, about what I said yesterday.”
“You mean when I was trying to explain to you what a Cutie Mark is and what yours might symbolize?”
“Y-yeah...”
“As I recall, you told me you'd rip yours off and shove it down my throat. Correct?”
“Yeah...”
Letting out a huge sigh, Twilight smiled and said, “You were recovering. You're still recovering. I know you didn't mean it.”
“I don't know how to begin explaining it,” I began, mulling over my thoughts with my coffee.
Catching the scent of a possible friendship report, Twilight quickly put her hair up in a bun and kept a notepad and quill floating nearby for good measure.
“Sometimes I just feel like the whole world's depending on what I say or do next. I've got all of this pressure coming down on me from everywhere and I really, desperately don't want to blow it and make a tremendous, spectacular, outstanding, unbelievably enormous chump out of myself. When it hits me, it's like I think I'm the butt of some enormous joke that only I don't seem to understand. There's a punchline in there somewhere, I'm just too frustrated and flustered to see it, you know?”
Empathetically, Twilight nodded and asked, “You know that that doesn't need to be the case, right?”
Shaking my head, I replied, “Yeah, I know, I don't need to make a huge deal out of everything. Of course I don't. It's just that sometimes things get too out of hand, there's serial escalation, and all of a sudden everyone's staring at me with expectant faces wondering what I think about it all.”
Stares. Man, they get at me the most. Wanna watch me crumble? Just stare at me for a few minutes.
“I don't know. I'll just... I'll have a spaz attack like that and everything will just get more and more difficult to express or relate to others. By the end of it all I'm left a sputtering, confused wreck.”
“Wow, um, what did I just walk in on?”
Twilight and I both nearly fell out of our chairs in surprise as Spike strolled into the room. Admittedly, it was still pretty darn early and, admittedly (again), this was indeed a very strange conversation.
“Sounds like a great way to built a ton of stress,” the little dragon remarked as he pulled up a chair. “How do you deal with it?”
Throwing my hooves into the air, I spat, “Dude, I have no clue.”
“He's just venting, give him a few minutes, Spike,” said Twilight as she placed a comforting hoof on my shoulder.
Nodding, I added, “Yeah... just... just give me a second here.”
“Look, I know that I don't need to worry so hard about what others think of me, it's just really, really, really hard sometimes,” I smirked halfheartedly. “I've been a colossal idiot before and, if given the chance, I'll likely be one again. That's just the thing though. I love the idiot that I am, I really do... I'm just always so afraid that everyone else won't, so I never really give them the chance and instead fly off the handle and spiral down into one of my patented panic attacks.”
Kind of like watching a house of cards collapse in on itself.
“But hey, what are you gonna do?” I smirked more genuinely, grinning. “I've done it before and I'll do it again, just try to cut me some slack when I do this next time, alright? I mean well, I'm just a dunce.”
“For what it's worth, I don't think you're a dunce,” stated Spike.
It caught me off guard.
Even my therapist was at a loss for words. Her unnecessary glasses slid down her nose.
Earnesty. That's all a man could ever ask for.
“Thanks, dude,” I replied, outstretching my hoof for him to bump.
Which he did.
Yeah, we're bros.
“Not a problem,” he said, smiling. “So, any other conversation landmines I need to be warned about before I go stepping into the kitchen? You two have pancakes and I don't, which must be a crime somewhere. I'm going to go and make myself a stack, maybe with some rubies and raspberry jam. Does anypony need anything while I'm in there?”
Twilight and I shared a smile.
“Nope, I'm fine,” I answered. “Get greedy and go ballistic in there. I mean it. I want to see a stack of starch a million miles high when you get back out here!”
“You got it!” cheered the baby dragon as he went charging from his seat into the next room.
“You're pretty good with kids,” commented Twilight as I sipped on my coffee.
“He's a good kid.”
We shared another smile.
“He most certainly is.”
Taking another sip of my java, my eyes crossed somewhere along my nose and gravitated up towards the other thing I had really wanted to talk to Twilight about.
“So, while we're getting all informative and whatnot~
“It's Twilight, her only existing setting is informative!” shouted Spike from amidst his breakfast-making.
“Anyway,” I snickered, rolling my eyes at my therapist. “What the heck is this thing jutting out of my forehead?”
Put simply, it was a horn.
The thing is, I didn't have it a couple of days ago...
Last night had been a bit of a shock. Now most of the way through the worst of the withdrawals, I hadn't been expecting the severe amount of pain that ended up dragging me out of dreamland and into the realm of the waking.
Neither had Twilight or Spike.
I remember screaming in ways I had never screamed before as a headache the size of South America hit me with all it had, then watching with wide eyes as a shiny new horn burst from my forehead like a tree sapling out of the dirt.
Now imagine that in fast-forward... and occurring in the center of your head.
My expression must have relayed that a vague answer like that wasn't exactly what I was looking for, because the unicorn waved a hoof and continued, “Unicorns have the ability to perform feats of magic using the concentrated power stored within their horns~
“You're like an encyclopedia, it's pretty hilarious.”
“I'm also the one responsible for dinner around here,” she affirmed, giving me a challenging look.
“Point taken,” I laughed.
Suppressing a chuckle of her own, Twilight smiled and said, “The ball's in your court.”
“Right. Uh, so, my horn. I'm a unicorn now, ergo, now I have a horn and can perform my own feats of magic. Right?”
Looking more or less just as confused as me, the lavender unicorn answered, “Right.”
“This hasn't happened before, has it? A pony randomly sprouting a horn in the middle of the night.”
Scrunching up her face in thought, Twilight shook her head and replied, “I've sent several letters to the Princess on the subject already, but no. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“Any ideas why?”
“Well, I have a theory,” she explained, her face scrunched-up again, “and it's only a theory so don't quote me on it, but I think your body is compensating for the general metamorphosis it went through by working out all the excess mass and energy in whatever ways it can. You still had potential energy and mass locked up inside of you and, well, it came out. Some ponies have horns. Now you have a horn. I'm... trying really hard not to think about it too much right now. Several books could be written about this, I don't even know where to begin.”
“Wow, really? It's really that big a deal?”
Nodding, an exhausted-looking Twilight confirmed, “Yep.”
“Well, geez, don't let me catch wind of that,” I busted up laughing. “Knowing the giant chowderhead that I am, I'll make a gigantic scene about it.”
“If that's the case, we'll calm you down,” asserted Spike as he reentered the room, a hefty plate of pancakes in his claw. “Now then, who's got the syrup?”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Six - The Trickster's Brigade...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Six – The Trickster's Brigade
~ ~ ~
“If you don't mind me asking, what's on your agenda for today?” asked Twilight as we set about doing the dishes.
“Well, I was planning on going through my stuff and finally taking inventory,” I replied with a shrug. “I've been avoiding it for a while, quite a bit of it was junked during the vacuuming process back at my apartment.”
Blushing, Twilight's ears went back as she sputtered, “R-right, Princess Celestia's portal. It was a bit rough, wasn't it?”
Grinning, I gave her a little jab with my horn and said, “Hey now, I'll have none of that. I'd say it was a pretty fair trade, all in all. I lost a lot of shit, that's true, but it's pretty important to note that I didn't die.”
After another poke, Twilight relented and let loose a smile to end all smiles.
It was so bright I was nearly blinded.
“Anyway,” I continued, pushing past the purple unicorn brusquely and pretending as though I didn't know I'd made her day, “I figured I'd sort through my shit, find out what's intact and what's broken. You wanna tag along? Who knows, there might be a couple of odds and ends that you've never seen before.”
Cut to a few minutes later and the two of us stood looming over a large, disorganized pile of garbage.
“Talk about your fixer-upper,” I sighed, thumbing through a few things without thumbs.
“I'd apologize again, but you'd just chastise me for it,” commented Twilight.
With my grin intact, I smirked, “You're damn right I would.”
We spent a few minutes digging around through my things. Surprisingly, my XBOX 360 was undamaged, as were my copies of Fallout 3 and Fallout: New Vegas. Borderlands hadn’t fared quite as well, but hey, there are always losses in war.
At least I still had some gaming in store in my near future.
“What's this?” asked Twilight as she came upon a familiar book.
Turning, my eyes fell upon a host of old memories.
Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery.
“Heh, that's... actually kind of fitting, this horn I've got. Man, what would the Colonel think of me now? I mean, all on his own he was still the greatest prankster alive, but I can only imagine the kind of show he could have put on with actual magic.”
“What?” asked the unicorn, understandably confused.
Smiling nostalgically, I replied, “Nothing, just reminiscing about an old friend, a mentor.”
Perking up instantaneously, she inquired, “Mentor?”
“Yeah, the best,” I responded, noticing her excitement. “Guessing you had one too?”
“Still do,” she corrected. “In fact, you've already met her.”
“Princess Celestia?”
“What makes you think it's her?”
“Pfft, please, it's obvious. She spoke to you like you were her daughter. The dark one didn't say much and... well... I kind of have it out for the candy-colored one. She was annoying.”
“You mean Cadance?”
“I... guess,” I said, scratching my head. “I don't have a lot of information to go on when it comes to names I've only ever heard in passing applying to ponies I've only met once.”
“Hmm,” she pondered aloud, “while that's a good point, I think you've got the wrong idea about her, Cadance is a wonderful pony. She's married to my brother, Shining Armor, and was even my foalsitter while growing up!”
Hmm indeed. I'd heard several stories about her before (those specific stories even), but still...
“Well, fine,” I relented, shaking my head, “maybe I judged too soon and too harshly. Still, she seemed like an airhead. It's up to her if she'd like that opinion changed. Bad first impressions are hard to quash.”
To her credit, Twilight simply rolled her eyes and ignored me.
I guess Cadance really did mean a lot to her.
“So,” she started back up, looking at me with expectant eyes, “Who is this Colonel? I've heard him mentioned a few times now. Anything I should know?”
“Only that he's the greatest pan-dimensional prankster in the history of everything!” exclaimed a hyperactive voice as a pink blur materialized before us.
“Pinkie Pie!” shouted Twilight as she skidded back a few feet in shock. “Have you ever heard of knocking?!”
Nonplussed, the pink pony smiled and said, “Knocking's so boring, I'd rather surprise everypony!”
“Clearly,” I remarked, bemused by Pinkie's characteristic entrance (no matter how impossible it seemed).
Uh, wait a minute, what did she say?
Snapping back into reality, I took an appraising look at the earth pony and asked, “Pan-dimensional? And anyway, how do you know who the Colonel is? Heck, going off of that, how do you know he's a prankster, let alone the best there is?”
I'd met several of Twilight's friends over the past month or so, but still, Pinkie Pie managed to get my goat every time. Flawlessly. She seemed to completely ignore the laws of physics and her knowledge of things that should be well beyond her was, to put it simply, extensive. It was as though she'd made a hobby out of breaking through the barriers between dimensions or something.
“Are you kidding?” she asked, looking as shocked as my purple friend was. “He's only the most decorated member of the Trickster's Brigade that there ever was and ever will be!”
The Trickster's Brigade?
“You'll... have to explain this in greater detail,” I stated, this tidbit of information a new one to me. “I fear I'm out of the loop.”
Jumping back into the conversation, Twilight blinked a couple times and said, “Ditto.”
Tilting her head, Pinkie Pie expounded, “Think of them... of us... as pranksters who go beyond their realms to enjoy a good laugh. The Colonel was the best, probably the nicest too. Some of our group enjoy their fun a bit too much and don't care if somepony gets hurt so long as it's still funny.”
“Sounds like you're talking about Discord,” said Twilight and I unanimously.
With an embarrassed expression, the pink pony ducked her head and admitted, “Well... he was the leader of the brigade back in his day. Or so I've heard anyway.”
Wide-eyed, Twilight yelled, “Pinkie, you're a member of a group that Discord once lead?!”
Admittedly, I was a bit frightened myself. Judging by what I'd heard, the King of Chaos wasn't a very great example to follow.
“No, no, you've got it all wrong!” Pinkie defended, flailing her hooves around hysterically. “Things have changed!”
Looking more stern than I'd ever seen her, the lavender unicorn demanded, “Explain. Now.”
Backpedaling out of this one would be tricky...
...or so I thought.
“You don't understand, Twilight,” she protested, losing none of her energetic momentum. “Discord was their leader, but he's not anymore. He's a statue, remember? Now I'm their leader!”
With all of the seriousness in the world, Pinkie Pie placed her hooves on Twilight's shoulders and asked her, “You trust me, don't you?”
Pinkie's blue eyes were big enough to drown in and I'm pretty sure that the two of us did.
All of the fire and brimstone I'd seen in the unicorn's eyes a moment ago vanished without a trace.
And I understood why.
Pinkie's at least ten different kinds of crazy, which is really something coming from a crazy guy, but she's also something else. She's Twilight's friend.
Friends trust each other.
Relaxing into a smile that relayed to me exactly how highly Twilight placed things such as the simple trust shared between two friends, she relented and said, “Okay, Pinkie, yes, I trust you. It's just... a lot to take in. Who is in this group with you? Are they dangerous? You said that some of them enjoy their fun in the more dangerous manner that Discord did, right?”
“They did, for a while, but I put my hoof down and made sure to put an end to that,” said the pink pony triumphantly, the Equestrian Kingdom's Commanding Officer of Comedy. “A prank is a prank, but I won't stand to see anypony get hurt. I want everypony to smile, not just a few while at the cost of others!”
With a firm nod, Pinkie proudly puffed out her chest and added, “Anypony not willing to abide by that rule is not allowed to be a member of my brigade. I promise.”
“I take it you've kicked a few out already then?” I asked.
Kicking at a pebble on the floor, she sighed and said, “More than a few, sadly, but it had to be done. They were just meanies in the end, not real pranksters. I saw their true colors and sent 'em packing!”
“Atta girl,” I retorted, patting her on the shoulder. “I wouldn't expect any less out of you, Pinkie Pie.”
“Neither would I,” Twilight interjected, nuzzling her friend with a soft and genuine smile. “So, what about this Colonel you've both mentioned? Who is he and, if Pinkie has seen him before, does that mean I will too? If so, I would very much like to meet him. You seem to think quite highly of him.”
“He was my comedic mentor,” I expounded wistfully, thinking back on my days under his tutelage. “He taught me everything that I know about sleight-of-hand magic and the fundamentals of comedy. He'd walk into a room and, just like that, everything would revolve around him. And not because he strove to be the center of attention or anything. No, he was just that magnetic. Wherever he went, fun would follow in his wake. Good, clean fun. He was... he was the best.”
“It sounds like you haven't seen or heard from him in a while,” the purple pony prodded.
“Actually, yeah, I haven't seen him in a long, long time,” I confirmed with a snort of disdain. “He just sort of disappeared on me. That's... actually part of the problem I was, you know, dealing with before.”
Pinkie's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and in a microsecond I was being tackled to the floor and hugged.
“No, you've got it all wrong!” she shouted, her energetic volume now even more noticeable due to our close proximity. “The Colonel would never abandon one of his apprentices!”
“H-hey, that was then and this is now!” I yelped. “Get offa me, I'm fine now, I swear!”
“Do you Pinkie Promise?”
With a sigh, I tugged one of my forelegs free and proceeded to set my vow in stone, “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”
“Good,” she said with a grin, finally getting up and freeing me from the floor. “I'll hold you to that promise, you know.”
Brushing myself off, I smiled back at her and smirked, “I expect you to. Now, what's this about the Colonel? It's true that I thought he'd gone and ditched me, but it seems you've heard otherwise? Is he here or something? What's he been up to?”
Scrunching up her face even tighter than before, as if either contemplating the infinite complexity of the universe or simply having taken a healthy swig of lemon juice, Pinkie Pie eventually replied, “He's off in search of The Ultimate Prank.”
“The what now?” I asked, a bit overwhelmed by the strange simplicity of her answer.
“The Ultimate Prank,” the baker repeated, channeling Twilight as her description began to sound more and more as though it had been recorded in some big book somewhere. “A quest, kind of. They say that Discord once pulled it off, or something like it, but the Colonel saw it as a hollow shadow of what it could have been had it left everypony smiling. Instead, only Discord smiled in the end, and they say that even his smile turned sour soon after. The Great Sham, they called it.”
“I've heard of that,” commented Twilight as something seemed to dawn on her. “I read about it as a schoolfilly. It was that event that began his rule over Equestria, wasn't it?”
With a stern expression, Pinkie nodded.
“Nopony but him smiled for over a thousand years. Nopony.”
A chill raced down my spine.
“Sounds like just the sort of thing that would have left a knot in the old man's gut,” I said quietly.
“The Colonel?” asked the party-planner.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, it did. He and Discord were apparently friends... but not after that. The Colonel never forgave him. They became bitter enemies.”
“Really? I've never known him to hold a grudge, but then again, I've never known anyone to conquer a kingdom and rule it through a combination of tyranny and insanity before either.”
Catching a glimpse of a bird out through an open window, I watched as flew up into the clear, blue sky.
“Oh, I don't know,” she responded playfully, looking out the window along with me. “Do you?”
Setting my jaw as firmly as I could, I took a step forward and answered, “Absolutely.”
“Then he will,” Pinkie stated, watching the same bird as I was, “because he's the Colonel. He's the essence of comedy itself. And if there's one thing that matters in comedy, just one, it's that an audience has to go into a performance believing that it's going to be funny. If you go in ready to hate it, it doesn't matter how good it is, you'll hate it. But if you go in ready to have a great time and share a good laugh with those around you, you'll leave with a smile on your face.”
“If you believe he'll succeed, he'll succeed. My Pinkie Sense tells me so.”
Pinkie Sense? What's tha~
“Fortune telling again?” piqued Twilight, raising an eyebrow up to Dwayne Johnson levels as she vaguely answered my unspoken question. “So, how many shakes and shivers did that one take?”
“Too many to list right now,” assured the pink pony with a wink.
Another question popped up in my mind, a question that had once sent me down the darkest path in my life.
This time though, this time it was the light at the end of that path.
I knew the answer, but well, tongues and mouths do their own things sometimes.
“Do you think he still... you know... thinks about me?”
Without looking away from the open window, Pinkie Pie smiled wide enough to engulf the sun and replied, “He's played a million pranks, told more jokes than jokes themselves exist, and above all else, shown more love for his audiences and his act itself than any other performer in creation. Something tells me, even while he's out there searching, he's got some of that love to spare for you.”
I cried.
We hugged.
...
...
...
Colonel? If you're out there somewhere, I learned a little something about trust today, something that I think I'm going to write to the Princess about. I lost faith in you when you disappeared, I gave up, but... I think I'm getting better. You're not here with me right now, and that really sucks, but you didn't leave because of me. You left to chase your dream. Well, I hope you find it and I hope it's hilarious.
Knock 'em dead, Colonel.
Yours truly, - Jeremy Robin
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Seven – Brothers...
Intermission: "Relapse shmelapse, it's a party, and hey, at least I'm not snorting and mainlining heroin anymore..."
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Intermission (Chapter N2) – “Relapse shmelapse, it's a party, and hey, at least I'm not snorting and mainlining heroin anymore...”
~ ~ ~
As a bonus for copping out a few days earlier when I promised a chapter, here's a little extra something for putting up with me, yo. A sneak peek of sorts into the future as Nightmare Night takes hold of Equestria and the whole kingdom kicks into action and begins to party. It's pretty short, but all the same, I hope you enjoy it!
~ ~ ~
First off, blame Pinkie Pie. She's the one who had the acid.
Second off, hey, it's just a little acid.
Third off, ever watched Roger Waters put on a light show for a rock opera masterpiece on a big screen after dropping a couple hits? It's a beautiful thing.
As for what Pinkie subjected me to. Well, let's just call it an experience.
When they call her the Premier Party Pony, they're not just whistling Dixie. After everybody finally crashed out asleep at Twilight's, cider-fueled alcoholic blackouts eventually claiming the whole lot, the two of us went hopping from party to party, eventually hitting the road to several swingin' soirees in Canterlot. All expenses were apparently paid, because I don't remember seeing the baker spend a single cent. Rather, everybody else was more than glad to supply her with whatever she wanted or needed at the time, which included whatever I wanted or needed too.
I guess when you encapsulate the very spirit of partying itself, parties just sort of gravitate to you and happen regardless.
Kind of reminds me of someone, Pinks. I see him in you more and more with every passing day.
Pretty goddamn cool.
Anyway, our final destination for the night (or early morning, if you're nitpicking) was a posh nightclub throwing a decidedly un-posh and completely off-the-hook concert party. Several bands had played before we arrived, but several more were still booked to perform. From heavy metal to country and western, punk rock to techno rap, a little bit of everything came and went.
Dressed as a ponyfied version of Storage Wars star, Barry Weiss, a costume that I felt secure in knowing only I could truly appreciate (and apparently my pink partner-in-crime too, who somehow figured it out immediately), I stepped up to the front of the stage and bore witness to many a badass musician.
Right next to me, bouncing around absolutely everywhere, was Pinkie Pie, dudded-up with all of Rarity's extraordinary skill as a white pegasus version of herself, complete with scrambled egg hair and a pair of wings that I'm shockingly certain were real.
With a snicker, she referred to it as one of her greatest surprises yet.
Am I missing something? Guess I'll have to ask around.
The first performer to play since our arrival stepped up onto the stage with a reserved and humble air about him that hooked me before he even began to play. What can I say, I'm biased towards nice guys. They don't act like they're the center of the universe like Bono does.
Introducing himself as MandoPony, the caramel-colored colt started things out with a cute ukelele song... which went way out into the left field all of a sudden as it turned out to be the into to an entire power ballad featuring electric ukelele and a whole host of other instruments. A white sheet was pulled away during a brief pause, just as the intro ended, suddenly revealing an entire band. As the song kicked into full swing, yet more left field hits rang out across the ballpark, ranging from a startlingly kickass woodblock solo reminiscent of something Tom Waits would've pulled to the most adorably placed bell chimes in music history.
I watched some of the toughest looking ponies (if you can believe ponies are capable of looking tough anyway) wipe their eyes and toast their beers, cheering.
I was one of them.
Next up was, much to my surprise, Pinkie Pie herself.
I swear, turn your back on that pony for a second and she's on stage with an electric guitar in her hooves.
I wish I could even begin to explain how odd it was hearing her cheery voice sing something like that. Even still, she painted the picture beautifully. I have to assume she'd practiced it before, which only made the image in my mind that much more implausible.
After that, she looked out across the crowd and smiled, then alerted us that a band would be joining her to assist in performing her second song. With a giggle, she added that while it was also the only other song she'd be playing, it was over 20 minutes long.
Every pair of eyes in the club boggled in anticipation.
Four other ponies hopped up onto the stage, all members of group known as Free Rides; one of them a pony going by the curious title, Tarby. The smile on his face alone told me that I was indeed in for a wild ride.
The cupcakes went over splendidly with those who sampled them, spurring the monstrous baker on to do the whole deed all over again... and with one of her dearest friends too.
It was creepy, it was horrifying, and it was amazing. The spirit of the holiday was captured in a masterpiece of a horror story presented by a band that looked like they were having way, way too much fun with what they were performing.
And I loved them for it.
Not the kind of song I'd like to jam to all the time, but placed in the right environment, which it was, I'd say that attempting to follow it would be a bullet-sweating task that no musician would want to face.
And yet...
The whole shebang ended with an absolutely insane finale.
A band fronted by their two vocalists, a white earth pony going by The Living Tombstone and a gray unicorn very fittingly named Mic the Microphone, performed a rap-rock song depicting a madman inthe process of sorting through his mind in the aftermath of the end of the world. Equipped with speakers larger than refrigerators, a lighting and special effects crew that had clearly gone to college, and a set of four flat-screens playing a fucking terrifying video behind them, it was easily the most elaborate show I had ever seen. The song switched seamlessly between sets of Tombstone's smoothly sung vocals and Mic's hysteric shouts, the gray guy flashing his horn every now and again to cast an illusion and grant us a glimpse of a button, big and red, with the word “Launch” printed across it in bold letters. I watched in awe as they displayed the entirety of the Equestrian Kingdom melting down into nuclear war. Missiles and bombs rained from the sky, eerily familiar weapons of mass destruction that looked so distrubingly out-of-place in this land of pastel ponies.
Eventually, Mic's shouting grew to a fever pitch, his madness fully realized and his transformation into a genocidal maniac complete. Reacting like Batman to the Bat Signal, their lead guitarist, a white unicorn mare with a two-tone blue mane and enormous sunglasses, stepped forward and proceeded to blow our minds with a two-minute solo that Hendrix would have shared a high-five and a few ounces of mushrooms over.
She made that thing fucking scream.
And if that weren't enough, our puppet masters ended the song with an explosion, one that they were all too happy to fully render for us, blowing out every single speaker in the process.
When the dust settled, The Living Tombstone simply stepped forward and said, “It's been fun, Canterlot. We're The Wildest West. See you around, Space Cowboys.”
Right, like he was completely oblivious and didn't know they'd just kicked all of our collective brains in the balls and into the orbit of one of Luna's distant stars.
My God, we went apeshit. The crowd roared. It was deafening and so very thoroughly awesome.
It wasn't the greatest night of my life. That title belongs to the first night Twilight and I opened up to each other and told stories about our childhoods. It was, however, the single greatest party of my life.
Oh yeah, it was that in fucking spades, son.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in our regularly-scheduled programming, Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies...
~ ~ ~
Hello, everypony, Joseph Raszagal here to explain a few things!
Some of you might be confused about the music and characters used to present it, which makes sense considering some of the things featured were not created or ever even performed by the musicians that I had perform them in the story (to my knowledge anyway, it'd be awesome hearing MandoPony's badass singing voice in any of these tracks). I'd like to alleviate that confusion and straighten a few facts out. Well, what I was going for was one part atmosphere and two parts fangasm. I asked permission to use the characters, but considering my timing and the holiday and whatnot, they were never able to reply on time. So... uh... I posted it anyway.
Stop looking at me like that, I know it's underhanded!
But considering I presented them in what I perceived to be a positive light, I'm not really worried about it. In my mind, I pretty much wrote an entire chapter about my favorite musicians in the pony scene being awesome, so I think they'll understand. You may have noticed, however, that some of the linked songs did not quite match up with how I described them. Again, it was part atmosphere; what I was really going for was the right setting to introduce songs that I really, really, superreally wanted to add because I liked them so much. I feel that they fitted in nicely in the end and didn't feel clunky, so I'm happy about how the whole thing worked out.
That might be false advertising, but I'm not making money on this so I don't think I can be sued. Please don't test that theory for me~
Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for any confusion and to the musicians again for posting the story before receiving their full permission. The following links are additions to the apology, as well as a necessity because it would be an absolute crime in my book not to look them up anyway!
As for the most obvious problem, a lot of this music may not be everypony's cup of tea. I understand that, I really do. We all have different tastes after all. These are just mine.
2) Songs Featured (again, in no particular order):
Olde Tyme Mem'ry – Erik Petersen
Something Broke: The Continuing Tale of Pinkie Pie and Ponycide – George DesRoches III
September – The Living Tombstone (feat. Mic the Microphone)
September (Metal Cover) – PrinceWhatever
Just the Right Bullets – Tom Waits
Sailor's Delight – The Sailor Kicks
A Dustland Fairytale – The Killers
Would You be Impressed? – Streetlight Manifesto
Oh, Susquehanna – Defiance, Ohio
~ ~ ~
The talent in this community is simply breathtaking. The Living Tombstone even got a brief mention in a Rolling Stone article about Daniel Ingram and pony music in general!
*Ahem* Sorry about that. Fangasming again.
Thanks for reading and have a wonderful Nightmare Night!
(I plan on keeping a close eye on my various inboxes for the next couple of days. If I'm asked to take this chapter down, I will gladly do so. Also, I know that there can sometimes be some friction between artists, and if for whatever reason I portrayed any of the borrowed artists / characters and paired them off with others that they are currently not so thrilled with, I meant no harm by it and, again, simply wanted to include a bunch of my favorite pony musicians.)
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Seven – Brothers
~ ~ ~
“Alright, this has gone on long enough,” I griped as Twilight finished packing her bags.
Turning to face me, the purple unicorn quirked an eyebrow and asked, “What's gone on long enough?”
“Your sour mood.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You're upset, you've been upset about something for a few days now, but you won't talk to me about it. Why?”
“I honestly have no idea what you're on about.”
Regarding her with my most disbelieving stare, I shook my head and said, “Twilight, I'm the king of bottling things up. I know masked emotions when I see 'em, no matter how well you think you've got things hidden. Now, out with it. What's wrong?”
Biting her lip, the librarian let out a long sigh and answered, “It's my BBBFF.”
“Gazuntite?”
“Oh, right. What I meant was, it's my brother, Shining Armor.”
“Alright, so, what's wrong?” I questioned, trotting over to sit down beside her. “Did you two get in a fight or something?”
“That's just it,” she groaned, looking down at her hooves. “I wish it was only an argument. Truthfully, I haven't spoken with him since the wedding.”
“You mean his wedding?”
“Yeah, his and Cadance's.”
“That was... jeez, that was months ago, before I was ever even sucked into this crazy place.”
“I'll admit,” I retorted, talking a moment to consider the long ride I'd taken between the two cities, “Canterlot isn't exactly a hop, skip, and a jump away.”
“Not even by Pinkie's standards,” huffed Twilight sadly. “Shining and I were doing so well with repairing our burnt bridges too, going out on picnics and popping in to visit each other unannounced, but then... stuff happened. My schedule filled to the brim and I haven't been able to see him in quite a while. We've kept in contact through letters, but it just isn't the same.”
Instantly, my ears fell flat as the obvious dawned on me.
Closing my eyes, I felt a wave of shame wash me out to sea.
“I'm sorry,” I eventually uttered, piercing the wistful silence that had since settled over the room.
“For what?” Twilight asked, her brow knitted in a look of genuine confusion.
“Stuff didn't happen,” I replied, ducking my head and feeling like the rustiest, creakiest third wheel in the world. “I happened.”
Midway into a strong bout of self-loathing, I felt a pair of hooves wrap around me and pull me into a hug. Looking up, I locked eyes with Twilight, a smile more compassionate and loving than any I'd ever seen beaming back at me.
And trust me, recently I'd gotten quite accustomed to seeing smiles like that on a daily basis.
“It's a shame how Shining and I seem to have drifted apart again, it really is,” she said with a nod. “However, the days I've spent with you are days I would never trade if ever given the chance. You're a hoofful sometimes, but as things still stand, you're my hoofful. Shining and I have all the time in the world to get back to work on those bridges, but you need me right now. And rest assured, so long as you still need me, I'll be there. That's what a good friend is for.”
Struck speechless, I simply hugged her back and tried my damnedest not to let loose with the waterworks.
We stayed like that for a few minutes. I've always found hugs to be... therapeutic. Call me a wuss if you'd like, but I'd much rather be a wuss who gets hugs than a tough guy who doesn't.
Finally able to muster up the ability to speak, I ventured, “Got any tools to spare?”
“Tools?” inquired Twilight.
“We're sticking with the bridge metaphors, right?” I retorted, grinning. “Anything I can do to help the two of you fix 'em?”
“Further the scientific field of teleportation magic,” she joked in return. “Long-distance is still a little too dangerous and unpredictable to attempt.”
“Uh, anything a bit more... feasible? I know I've got a horn and all, but I haven't exactly used it to take a real stab at magic yet.”
Stifling a giggle, Twilight rolled her eyes and said, “Don't worry about it. I'll handle Shining Armor, you just handle your recovery, alright?”
“Yeah, alright,” I replied, a fresh and honest smile on my face.
“And you really should give it more thought, you know,” she added vaguely as she stood up and resumed her packing.
“Give what more thought?” I questioned, tilting my head.
“Magic,” the lavender unicorn answered. “If the playing cards and wand on your flank are any indication, I'd say you're bound to be quite talented at it.”
Stealing a glance at my own rump, I then asked, “Stage magic is a bit different from the real deal, isn't it?”
“In some ways, yes, and in other ways, no.”
“How so?”
“Well, I've always felt that Cutie Marks indicate more than just your special talent. I see them as a sign of much greater, wider potential. I told you about Trixie, didn't I?”
“The blue unicorn in constant danger of suffocating from the dense cloud of smug surrounding her?”
“That's the one. You see, though Trixie's talent was for stage magic, and although she left quite a bit to be desired as far as personality and simple manners go, she really was an excellent magician. One of the best. She had every ability to live up to her own wild boasts, but she never chose to practice what she preached and instead put forth as little effort as possible while putting on her shows. And while it could still be argued that her performances were nonetheless spectacular, with a little more work on her part and a little less showboating they could have been even greater.”
“I don't think I follow, Captain. What exactly are you getting at?”
“Stage magic, sleight-of-hoof magic, and all other kinds of magic,” Twilight explained, grinning as she fastened the clasps on either side of her bags. “I think that you'll find it's all relative. Why constrain yourself to one field when you can explore them all? Your talent isn't simply stage magic, Jeremy, but magic in general.”
Wide-eyed, I leaned back and said, “That's... a lot to take in.”
“Nopony said you couldn't take your time with it,” she laughed. “Proceed with all the caution you think is necessary, one step at a time. Just don't box yourself in simply because you think you can't do something. In the end, you'll never know unless you try.”
“Hmm, can't really argue with that,” I smirked, shrugging. “Thanks for the advice, Mom.”
“And thank you for the sarcasm, Son,” the purple pony returned, her eyebrows high. “Now I've got a train to catch. It still ruffles my nonexistent feathers that I won't be able to visit my brother while I'm in Canterlot, but I suppose that's what makes an official business trip official. Besides, with how much better you've gotten recently, I imagine I'll find the time to sit down and catch up with him very soon.”
“I certainly hope so,” I chuckled. “I'll try my hardest not to devolve into a crying, simpering wreck while you're gone.”
“You remember where to go, right?” she questioned, eying me warily.
Saluting, I replied, “Sweet Apple Acres, right?”
“Good,” Twilight affirmed with a nod. “I made arrangements with Applejack and her family a few days in advance, so they're expecting you. Try not to make them wait by meandering too much during the walk there.”
“Hey, I don't dawdle!”
“I've heard Spike say the same thing more than once.”
Rolling my eyes, I commented, “I guess that's why you sent him off ahead of you?”
“Well, that and he's been working so hard lately I figured it was high time he took a break,” she admitted. “I told him to have my chambers ready for me when I get there, but knowing the palace's staff, they were ready for me weeks ago. He'll get there, find that he has nothing to do, then spend the rest of the next couple of days enjoying a hard-earned vacation.”
Turning back to face me as she magicked open the front door, Twilight's eyes glinted mischievously.
“I told Applejack that you've been physically healthy for the past month, so I'll warn you, it's entirely possible that she'll have you work in the orchards with her.”
“Manual labor doesn't scare me,” I declared, thumping a hoof against my puffed-out chest. “Bring it on.”
“Oh, I'm sure she will. See you in a few days!”
And with that, Twilight stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Welp, time to get to work I guess. How hard can picking apples possibly be?
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Eight – Purging the Poison Through Sweat and an Honest Day's Work...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Eight – Purging the Poison Through Sweat and an Honest Day's Work
~ ~ ~
This chapter is in canon with another story of mine, "Unconventional Family Trees". It's recommended that you read it, but it's not strictly necessary, yo. Don't let The Man bring you down and tell you what to read!
~ ~ ~
The brisk morning wind made my coat bristle as it swept around me, the reds and oranges of the falling leaves a telltale sign that autumn was giving summer the seasonal boot. Luckily, my leather duster made for a great guard against the elements and with it draped across my back I was able to shrug off the shivers without much effort.
Shortly before leaving for Canterlot, Twilight had been kind enough to send the big jacket over to her fashionista friend for some much-needed repairs. It had sustained a few scrapes and scuffs during the chaotic ride from my darkened apartment and was in dire need of some tender love and care.
Now if I were a betting man, my guess would be that it got knocked around by that strangely indestructible XBOX of mine. I'm still a little confused as to how that big, heavy, failed attempt at fighting a format war against blu-ray managed to survive the trip, and a little more confused as to how I survived with that thing flying around my head at breakneck speeds. I mean, have you ever held one of those things? What, did someone at Microsoft finally snap after getting a few too many complaint emails about how fragile the old ones were, so they just threw their hands up into the air out of frustration and yelled, “So they're all fucking pissed because our system can't withstand a fall greater than the width of a toothpick, are they?! Fine then, we'll make this one out of the depleted uranium rods recovered from Chernobyl's No. 4 reactor and we'll see how fucking happy they are when nothing short of God's angry fist can destroy it! Go ahead, assholes, drop it on your foot, it'll be denser and heavier than the heart of a dying star in the seconds before that shit goes supernova!”
Sometime after that, probably midway into the mandatory villainous laughter, he'll have been thrown into an insane asylum and lobotomized for attempting to make weapons of mass destruction out of video game consol~
…
…
…
Fuck, I'm rambling again, aren't I?
Heh, sorry 'bout that. When it happens, it happens.
Anyway... uh, where was I?
So, yeah, I've worn a beat-up jacket before. I'll even go as far as to say that I've taken great pride in how bruised and battered some of my favorite articles of clothing have been in the past. A scrape here and there gives 'em character, kinda like battlescars. The only difference, of course, being that these scars were earned at parties with lots of low-shelf vodka rather than on battlefields with lots of active grenades. And, really, that's not a big deal to me. Some of my favorite shirts, most of which were sadly left behind in my dresser, had holes in them the size of beer cans. I wore them like badges of honor, remembering that each rip and stain had been something along the lines of a particularly messy plate of hot wings, a long night of playing paintball while losing my mind on magic mushrooms, or any number of skateboarding attempts (“attempt” being the key word there).
Rips and tears in my daily dress have never been a problem with me. More importantly, however, was the issue of refitting.
How to put this... Humans and ponies don't exactly have the same anatomy and to say that my duster had fit me a little awkwardly after my transformation would be an understatement. It looked more like someone had tried to drape me in the leather seat-cover out of an old, pimped-out, 80s muscle car.
To her credit, while Rarity apparently found my sense of style to be “dreadfully lacking in fabulosity” (so much so that she also claimed it “breached on being a crime against fabulousness as a whole”), she had nonetheless taken my ratty leather rag and not only refitted it for me, but made it positively shine again.
Seriously, the thing looked brand-fucking-new.
She'd even personalized it a bit and sewn a patch onto the back, emblazoning it with a combination of our two Cutie Marks; playing cards and glittery diamonds.
Now, and this is just me speculating here, but given the importance and significance that their Cutie Marks seem to hold for most ponies, adding that finishing flair had to mean something to her, right? I mean, could she really hate a project that she'd put her own mark onto? I'm not so sure, but whatever. In the end, while the fashionista herself still claimed she wasn't satisfied with her work, I happened to think it looked pretty friggin' badass and I appreciated the (assumed) sentiment.
I told Twilight to pass the compliment along.
But, unfortunately, while the weather was perfect for long sleeves and a nice stroll, it became increasingly more clear to me as I approached the Apple Family's homestead that I'd be doing much more than enjoying a lazy walk through the orchards.
Looking around through sleepy, half-lidded eyes, I took notice of the trees surrounding me from absolutely every direction. Every single one of them bore fruit ready and waiting to be picked.
It looked both beautiful and daunting at the same time, kind of like the prospect of a long day spent doing the sort of hard work that's just too rewarding to really mind doing, but you just know your muscles are gonna scream at you when you wake up as creaky as an old battleship the next day.
With that in mind and no nurtured desire to run the risk a heat stroke, I shrugged out of my new-ified duster, focusing just enough of my fledgeling magic to help tug the sleeves off of my forelegs. It wasn't an easy process and I may have fallen down a couple of times... or more, but after a minute or so I managed to brush myself off. Feeling a bit foolish, I climbed the set of wooden steps leading up to the farmhouse's porch and set the jacket down on an unoccupied rocking chair.
It was then that a bout of muffled laughter, soft but deeply resonating, told me that someone standing just behind me had witnessed the less-than-dignifying ordeal.
Ugh, isn't it great when you look like an idiot in front of an audience?
Red-cheeked, I pivoted on my rear legs to face them.
Standing there, smiling serenely, was what looked to be a zebra decorated in a great many golden hoops.
Alright... perhaps not quite who or what I had been expecting, but heck, if there's ponies and dragons, then why the fuck can't there be zebras too?
“So, you are young Twilight's charge?” she mused, tilting her head. “Applejack and I were expecting a worker more large.”
So, everybody's expectations were a little off-target, huh?
…
Hey, wait a minute!
Stumbling over my words for a moment, my pride as a not-so-big guy somewhat wounded, I stomped a hoof down and stammered, “J-just because I'm not a tower of sinewy muscle doesn't mean I can't pick an apple just as good as the next guy, lady!”
Still laughing, the zebra shook her head and replied, “No need to be defensive, my flustered young friend. T'was only a joke, I am sure you'll do fine in the end.”
“I will!” I declared, sticking a triumphant hoof up in the air.
It... took me a second or two to realize just how silly I must have looked.
Putting my saluting hoof back down, I dug at the ground out of embarrassment for a moment, carefully mulling over my thoughts before daring to resume the conversation.
Social anxiety? Check.
“So, uh, I don't really know who I'm looking for here,” I began, lifting my gaze from the ground to meet the zebra's teal eyes. “You wouldn't happen to be the matriarch of this farm, would you?”
Shaking her head, she outstretched a foreleg in friendship and answered, “Zecora is my name, my dear, and I do believe that Applejack is the one you seek here.”
Clopping her extended hoof with my own, I soon found my embarrassment overcome by my present company's infectious smile.
“Well, then,” I stated, regaining my steam along with the smile, “it's nice to meet you, Zecora. And yeah, Applejack's the one I'm looking for. She'll be the one to put me to work, yeah?”
“Indeed she will,” Zecora confirmed with a knowing wink, “perhaps well past the point you've had your fill.”
Smirking, I retorted, “Hey, I said I'd bust my chops out here and I will. A bit of labor won't scare me off.”
“Heh, that's good, because AJ'll be out in a second,” came a much different, much cockier voice from somewhere up above me.
Rolling her eyes, my new zebra acquaintance let loose a grin of her own and commented, “Gilda, shouldn't you be in the southern fields by now? We both know they'll have to get picked somehow.”
“Couldn't help it, Z,” came the voice again, decidedly female but brusque enough to make me wonder. “May not be the most appreciated pastime out there, but you know how much I love eavesdropping.”
Dropping down from the sky like a hawk was, well, something that sort of resembled a hawk.
The rest of her, though, I wasn't quite so sure about.
“This the guy that the Egghead told us about?” she asked, lifting a claw to brush aside a few stray feathers from her amber peripherals. “I'll admit, judging by how he's just standing there gawking at me, I can tell he's from out of town.”
“Heh, yeah, out of town,” I chuckled. “That's putting it mildly.”
“Guess you've never seen a griffon before, huh?”
“Nope, not-a once.”
“Wow, you must be from pretty far out in the boonies then.”
“You could say that, yes.”
It didn't help that Zecora burst into another bout of mirthful laughter midway into the conversation. I'm guessing that she knew a bit more about my situation than her feathered friend.
“So, it's Gilda, right?” I asked, outstretching my hoof in greeting again.
Rather than shake my hoof, which with claws she was more than capable of doing, the griffon bumped knuckles instead.
I liked her already.
“That's my name,” she replied as she stretched her wings, “don't wear it out.”
“Oh, he won't have time to,” remarked a husky third voice, the words accented by a southern drawl. “He'll be too busy workin' up a sweat, just like ya'll should be.”
Leaning out through the house's suddenly open front door, an orange pony sporting blonde ponytails (which I'm assuming counts as a pun even if unintended) and a cowboy hat grinned at the three of us.
“Crap,” muttered Gilda just seconds before she took off into the air. From high in the sky, she turned and shouted, “Talk to ya later, dude!”
With a courteous bow, Zecora bid me farewell as well, “And I must also take my leave. There are herbs in the forest that I still need to retrieve.”
Closing the door behind her, Applejack trotted down the steps and went to stand by the zebra's side, offering her an affectionate nuzzle.
“Ah'll send Apple Bloom after ya, alright?”
Nuzzling the southern pony back, Zecora nodded and galloped away without another word.
It was then that my host turned to face me... with a glare sharp enough to cut a diamond.
Don't you just hate it when things don't go according to plan?
That was the thought going through my mind as Applejack paced back and forth in front of me like a drill sergeant searching for signs of weakness. Her severe expression spoke volumes and I was pretty sure that it was a series of novels I really didn't want to read.
“So, Twilight told ya Ah'd work ya in the orchards, huh?” she remarked as she tipped her stetson and scrutinized me through narrowed eyes. “Ya look like a strong enough buck, so Ah guess Ah could use ya.”
“I'll try my hardest, Appleja~
“That's MISS Applejack to you!” the orange earth pony barked as she stomped a hoof, startling me and sending me skittering backwards onto my rump. “Ah heard them things you were callin' Twilight while y'all were recoverin' in the library, ya know. Twi may have forgiven ya, but Ah'm a mite bit stubborn. Ah don't take too kindly to anypony insultin' mah friends, their situation notwithstandin'. If'n y'all expect to be forgiven, then Ah expect to see ya work up a sweat, got that?”
She didn't take too kindly to my stunned silence either.
“That wasn't rhetorical, so Ah'll repeat mahself,” she stated, closing the distance between us to loom over me. “Got that?”
Gulping audibly, I took a step forward and answered, “Y-yes ma'am, Miss Applejack, ma'am!”
Looking thoroughly unconvinced (which, considering my drill sergeant comparison, shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did), she grunted and made an about-face, motioning with one hoof for me to follow.
I had a distinct feeling that “work” wasn't the word that Applejack had in mind for me. “Toil” was probably a lot more accurate.
“Me and my big, stupid mouth,” I grumbled under my breath. “Why can't I ever say anything nice when I'm in withdrawal?”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Nine – Dinner for Six...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Nine – Dinner for Six
~ ~ ~
Several hours of labor-intensive work later and I found myself hyperventilating in a tired heap beneath the shade of one of my greatest foes in a long time... an apple tree. I was dimly aware of the presence of two others approaching, the sounds of grass crumpling under hooves a fairly dead giveaway, but I was just too exhausted to pay much attention at the moment.
“Well now, would ya look at that,” whistled Applejack, sounding somewhat impressed. “Dern near every golden delicious tree in the orchard? Really?”
An unfamiliar but distinctly masculine voice then stated in a bored drawl, “Ah swear, AJ, he's like a machine. Not the toughest Ah've seen, but tenacious. Eeyup. Definitely tenacious.”
“Ah guess Ah'd better stop him 'fore he tries to repent his way through the honeycrisps then,” chuckled the farm girl.
Raising a hoof without opening my eyes, I declared through deep breaths, “I think... we've both drastically... overestimated my abilities... Especially if you think... that that's going to happen...”
Still laughing, Applejack knelt down beside me and said, “'Bout time fer supper. Think you've earned it?”
“I... I don't know,” I panted, finally opening my tired peepers.
Maintaining the same stern expression that I'd seen before, the orange pony looked me in the eyes for several tense seconds before breaking into a wide smile.
“Ah'm just teasin' ya, fella,” she stated as she nudged me with a hoof. “Ah wouldn't starve such a hard worker. 'Sides, it's clear to me that Twilight was right 'bout ya. You wouldn't hurt a fly, would ya? If anythin' it just breaks mah heart all the more knowin' that you went an' tried to hurt yerself instead.”
“I was stupid then,” I replied with a blush, my breathing finally under control. “Well, alright, I'm still pretty stupid, but I'm less stupid now. That won't be happening again, I promise.”
“Ah'll hold ya to that, Hoss.”
Hoss? Ah, whatever, I've been called worse.
“You know, Pinkie Pie said the same thing to me.”
“'Course she did. She's Pinkie Pie, friend to everythin' whether they like it or not. Now, ya ready fer supper?”
“Absolutely, ma'am.”
Smirking, she turned and commanded, “Then get yer lazy rump up an' follow me.”
Faux-insult or not, I couldn't help but to grin.
“You got it, ma'am!” I replied dutifully.
As we made our way back to the large farm house, I acquainted myself with Big Macintosh, the other voice that I had heard commenting on my apple picking skills as though I weren't laying right-the-fuck there. The word “large” came immediately to mind, but “shy” followed quick on its heels. Despite being almost twice my size, a football player of a pony if there ever was one (is it odd that comparisons like these are becoming more normal to me with each passing day?), the big guy's personality was anything but. In the past, I thought I was a laid-back sort of dude, but Big Mac definitely had me beat. I wasn't about to try and press his buttons and anger him or anything, but something told me that even if I did try to piss him off, he'd just keep on chewing his sprig of wheat without a care in the world.
Not blissfully ignorant or oblivious to the things going on around him, just blissfully beyond giving a fuck.
Or in other words, my kind of guy.
We talked for a bit, most of the talking done by yours truly while Big Mac simply nodded every so often or replied with what appeared to be his patented one-word response of “Eeyup”, and before we knew it we were standing in front of the family's rustic homestead. After opening the front door and heading inside, I saw a little yellow pony with a red mane and tail bounce up and down on her hindlegs as she struggled to place plates on top of a table that was just a little too tall for her to properly reach. The pink bow tied just behind her ears bobbing to-and-fro was what cinched the whole scene for me. I put forth my best effort, but in the end I just couldn't help it.
“D'awww,” I said, taking in the adorable sight. “Now that's just not fair. I'm going to need some insulin before this week's over, aren't I?”
“What now?” asked the small pony as she turned to face me.
Shaking my head, I outstretched a hoof in greeting for the third time today and replied, “Nothing, just me rambling. I'm Jeremy, by the way. Jeremy Robin. Who might you be?”
“Ah'm Apple Bloom,” came her response as she shook my hoof. “Pleased to meet ya. Are ya'll the one Twilight said would be stayin' with us fer a week?”
“Yup, that'd be me.”
“Hope mah sis didn't work ya too hard out there. She has a habit of thinkin' everypony can work just as hard as she can.”
“Oh, it wasn't all that bad,” I sighed with a smirk. “Besides, I had it coming.”
“Been a bad pony?” she questioned, tilting her head wish a mischievous grin.
Rubbing the back of my neck with a hoof, I smiled and answered, “In a manner of speaking. I kind of have a loud mouth.”
“Good!” cheered Gilda as she alighted on the porch and strode in like she owned the damn place. “Don't let the Boss persuade you over to her side, dude, a loud mouth is the best kind of mouth!”
“Finally,” I said in mock exacerbation, throwing my hooves into the air, “somebody who gets it. Sarcasm isn't just a way to accent your words, it's an entirely different language that I'm proud to say I'm quite fluent in.”
Giving me a light punch in the shoulder, Gilda smirked, “Ditto, dude. Ditto.”
“Alright, alright, 'fore the two of you go an' fill my lil' sis's head full of nonsense, why don't ya'll go an' get yerselves washed up?” Applejack huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just like Granny Smith 'fore me, Ah only want clean hooves an' talons at this here dinner table.”
“Yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going,” laughed the griffon as she turned and headed upstairs. “Jeremy, right? Follow me, I'll show you where the bathroom is.”
“You have the helm, Ensign,” I retorted.
“Ensign?” she snorted. “More like Captain. Don't make me assign you to washing the poop deck, Chump.”
Shit. How was I supposed to know that she knew the proper order of naval officer ranks?
My joke thoroughly countered, I struck back by sticking my tongue out and giving her a raspberry, then said, “Don't make me go all mutiny on your feathery butt. Just make it so, yo.”
And so she did.
Trotting our way up a small stairwell, I was soon guided to a modest washroom that had the distinct feel of having seen far more use than it would have preferred (if the mud, twigs, and leaves clogging the tub's drain were any indication anyway). Not that this revelation surprised me much, mind you. I mean, c'mon, they're farmers. Dirt, sweat, and grime just come with the territory.
Taking a moment to scan my own hooves, I re-confirmed this fact.
Goddamn, was I ever filthy.
“So, Gilda,” I said as I scrubbed what had once been a pair of far less clumsy hands, “you're a friend of Rainbow Dash's, right? It didn't come to mind the moment I saw you, but I have heard Twilight mention you before.”
Drying her talons off on a nearby towel, she eyed me and replied, “Yeah, me and Dash go way back; all the way to our first days in flight school. Heh, I was even the second fastest in our class, right behind that filly's speedy, multi-colored flank, of course.”
“A bit jealous there, Skip?” I chuckled.
With a sigh, she flexed her wings and said, “I was for a while, but I got over it. Can't stay pissed at your best friend for something that she can't help. Anyway, what's up with asking? The Egghead tell ya about how much of a bitch I was when I first stomped into town?”
“Bitch?” I asked, having apparently missed that particular story.
“Megabitch,” Gilda laughed, closing her eyes. “I showed up, hung around with Dash the same way we did back in school, but I didn't realize it until it was too late that she'd gone and matured without me. Next thing I knew, I was making a huge ass out of myself by storming my way through town and yelling at absolutely everypony. Pinkie Pie ended up throwing a party to try and get me to take a chill-pill, maybe a whole bottle of 'em, but I pretty much did the exact opposite and flipped the buck out after getting pranked five too many times.”
“Hey, everybody flips out,” I offered with a shrug. “I'd even go as far as to say that I've revolutionized the art of it several times consecutively.”
“Yeah, maybe, but that still doesn't excuse the shit that I pulled. Once all the dust had settled, I flew out of town with my tail between my legs and threw the biggest bucking temper-tantrum Equestria has ever seen on a storm cloud somewhere. It was pretty pathetic.”
“Well... you're here right now, aren't you? Things seem to have gotten better.”
“True, they did. But it wasn't easy. It took a couple months for me to work up the nerve I needed to come back and apologize. Predictably, none of the girls really believed me at first, which while being the reaction I'd expected from the get-go, still managed to piss me off somehow. So I flew away again, screaming about how lame and uncool they all were, cut up a bunch of clouds out of frustration, got thanked by some random weatherponies for my help as a result, then perched on a tree once I was too tired to continue complaining and did some major soul-searching.”
“What'd you come up with?”
Looking seriously contemplative for the first time since I had met her, Gilda frowned and replied, “That I was lonely... Very lonely.”
Oh...
Damn, well, there's something I can definitely identify with. Not that I'd ever wish it upon someone just they could empathize with me, but still, the fact remains. I've been lonely. It sucks. There's a reason it was the main recurring theme in Donnie Darko, after all.
Opting not to open my big, fat mouth (lest it land me in hot water, as per its usual), I instead stood there patiently and waited for the griffon to find the right words she needed to continue.
“I thought I could be the same jerk I'd been while growing up,” she eventually stated, the emotion in her normally gruff voice betraying her conspicuously dry eyes. “I thought I could just say and do whatever the buck I wanted and somehow everypony would still love me. But I was wrong. That shit works in school, but that's because any set of social skills can work in school. Well, to an extent anyway. The thing is, I didn't get that at the time. I didn't understand that once you graduate... or drop out... the world changes and suddenly you have a ton of responsibilities that you have to manage, social interaction being a pretty high one on the totem pole.” Shaking her head, Gilda sighed and added, “I was a featherbrained bird, dude. About as dumb and mean as they came. I was... I was nothing but a bully.”
I cringed on that last word.
So was I.
Shut up, me. Not now. Not right now.
Patting her on the back, I said, “Hey, c'mon, don't beat yourself up about it. That's clearly not the case anymore, is it?”
“No, I suppose it isn't,” she conceded, smiling with a wistful expression. “And I've got those girls to thank for it. All they did when I first showed up, and heck, all they still do these days is talk about how magical friendship is. It's enough to make you gag, I swear. But still... no matter how cheesy it sounds, there's definitely some truth to it. Definitely. Every time they get too annoying for me to handle, I take a deep breath and remind myself that their friendship really has made me happier than I've ever been.”
Grinning, now seeing in Gilda the changes that I was beginning to see in myself, I took my good cheer and used it as a weapon to break the tension with a bit of comedy.
Stifling my laughter, I took in a deep breath and said as condescendingly as possible, “Awww, dat's so shweet!”
“Ugh, Celestia, don't I know it,” she groaned, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “Anyway, I... uh... I kind of got us sidetracked with all of that personal crap there, didn't I? Heh, sorry 'bout that. I've only known you for, what, half a day or something, and here I am pouring my heart out to you. Those girls really must have done a number on my jerkiness, I'm losing my edge here!”
Jabbing the griffon in the shoulder (part payback for her punch from earlier and part out of the way fellow jerks express their sympathy), I smirked, “Shut up, you're as edgy as a drawer full of knives. Besides, if it's any consolation, they're having the exact same effect on me.”
Blushing, another new expression from the bird as far as I was concerned, Gilda waved a claw and said, “Makes it hard to stay a jackass, doesn't it?”
“Very hard,” I laughed.
A brief pause perched between us as Gilda's blush intensified for whatever reason.
My steadily rising eyebrow must have been what snapped her out of it.
“Right, so it sounded like you were trying to go somewhere with what you were asking,” she remarked, getting back into her groove, “which is good because I'd really rather drop the emotional stuff before I gross myself out some more, you know?”
Thinking back a minute or so, I tapped a hoof to my chin and stated, “Yeah, my question. It's nothing, really. I was just wondering, what with all of Twilight's friends and all the stories I've heard about them, the only one I haven't seen in person is Rainbow Dash. She sounds pretty cool and I wouldn't mind meeting more of Twi's best~
Cutting me off with a wave of her arms, Gilda's earlier blush vanished completely as she deadpanned, “Sorry, man, that ain't my story to tell.”
Huh?
A tad confused, I inquired, “What? Why not? I was just wondering why I haven't seen h~
“Again,” the griffon repeated, “not my story to tell. It's personal and, anyway, I'm sure you'll hear about it from Dash once you meet her.”
Now more confused than ever, I asked, “Is... she alright? I'm not getting myself into muddy waters by asking this, am I? I just came out of a bout of depression myself, I don't want to hear that one of my benefactor's besties died or something.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that!” she answered hastily, calming back down a second or two after assuring me. “I already told you that you'd have to ask her yourself, remember? She's alright, still alive and just as cocky and loyal as she ever was. It's just... it's really complicated and we all came to a sort of agreement that we'd keep things hush-hush. I can't tell ya, man. You'll have to hear it from the source, alright?”
Seeing how serious she was on the matter, I decided to respect her pact with the others and, feeling guilty for pressuring her, gave in, “Okay, okay. As long as she's fine, everything's cool. I mean, I'm not gonna stop being curious about it, but I will stop asking. I can respect a good secret.”
“That's just it,” Gilda stated, shaking her head. “It's kind of a secret and, well, it's kind of not. But whatever, like I said, that's something that you'll just have to ask Dash about. Now, how about we head downstairs and get us some grub?”
“Deal,” I concurred, and together we made our way back down the stairwell and into the dinning room.
As we reached the ground floor, the bird did catch me by surprise as she turned and asked, “You said you were depressed back there, right? Anything you wanna say before we jump into some good home cooking?”
I froze, my hooves as heavy as lead.
She hadn't heard the whole story from Twilight like Applejack had?
Shaking my head, I replied, “We just decided to let the touchy subjects drop for the time being, yeah?”
Nodding, Gilda smiled and said, “Yup. Say no more, dude.”
“Wait!” I snapped, immediately wincing at the level of volume and harshness I'd used.
To her credit though, she did wait.
Heaving a big sigh, I licked my suddenly very dry lips and finished, “I'll... I'll tell you. Eventually. But, well, we're in a good mood right now and we're about to chow down on some equally good food, right?”
“Right-o,” she retorted.
“Okay,” I sighed, this time much more comfortably. “Just give it some time. Like you said up there about your bud, Dash, what I have to say isn't exactly a secret, but it's still a little hard for me to talk about if you don't already know. It's admitting something bad, something really bad, to both you and myself. I'm over it now, but what can I say, I still don't really like talking about it.”
Putting a claw on my shoulder, Gilda gave that same blush from before as she nodded and said, “No worries, I get it. I'm not the same bird I was before. A few years ago, I'd have put you on the spot; probably hurt you as a result. Pretty bad from the looks of it. But while I'm still a bitch these days, I'm not the biggest bitch in Equestria anymore, so take all the time you need.” Pausing for a moment, the griffon shook her head and added, “That's something the girls taught me, I guess.”
Returning the smile, I grinned my stupid grin and retorted, “Sounds like a good lesson.”
“It was,” she smirked just before taking the talon on my shoulder and forcefully pushing me forward. “Now shut up and get your flank in there! You're in my way and I'm bucking hungry!”
“Say no more!” I declared as I took the message and strode into the dining room.
Aaaaaaaaaaaand that's about when my jaw hit the floor.
“Alright, where the fuck did all of this food come from?”
Blinking, it took me a moment to realize that I had actually said that last bit out loud.
“First off, Ah hear that kinda language outta yer mouth again while we're at the table an' Ah'll have to explain to Twilight why there's a permanent hoofprint where one of yer eyes should be,” Applejack stated bluntly, giving me a stern glare that could have welded two pieces of steel together. “Second off, Apple Bloom prepared supper. While yer apologizin' to everypony present fer yer foul mouth, ya'll should take a moment to thank her.”
Gulping audibly, I rapidly bowed my head and mumbled, “Um. Yes, ma'am. Sorry for cursing, ma'am. And, uh, thanks for the dinner, Apple Bloom.”
…
The following silence almost killed me.
Looking over my shoulder, I could tell that Gilda was holding in the hardest laugh of her life.
She was right. She's still kind of a bitch.
“Good enough, I s'pose,” the orange pony relented. “Alright, everypony sit down so's we can say grace.”
Quirking an eyebrow out of confusion, I performed a quick mental jog and came up with the obvious answer.
I mean, for Christ's sake, she lifts the sun each morning. Of course it's to Celestia.
“Dear Princess Celestia,” Applejack began, my assumption correct, “we, yer humble subjects, would like to thank you fer the blessin' of yer sun's rays that fed an' helped grow tonight's feast. May you continue to watch over us durin' both the good times an' the bad. Amen.”
“Amen,” chorused the rest of the room, myself included.
Huh, that's an odd feeling.
I wouldn't go as far as to say that I was an atheist back in my world. More like an agnostic. I wasn't sure if there was a God or multiple gods or something else entirely, but I also wasn't so sure as to write it all out of life's big equation. After all, it's an understatement to say that the universe is a complex thing. For all an idiot like me knew, there really was a deity watching over us all from on high. Heck, it could have been a cat named Mittens. I'd have accepted that. Mittens, our Lord and Savio~
Dammit, I'm rambling again.
Anyway, in the end there just wasn't a creed that really appealed to me. But I guess here in Equestria there isn't much of a point to atheism. God's right there. You can even file some paperwork to go and have a nice little chat with her, maybe have a couple cups of tea and discuss what life was like ten centuries ago or what it's like lifting a giant ball of continuously exploding gas every single morning.
Neat.
Smiling at the thought of that, I dug into supper along with everybody else. Somewhere in the back of my head, whilst chewing on a healthy portion of lettuce and tomato salad, I catalogued the fact that despite her age, Apple Boom can apparently work wonders in the kitchen. And entirely without meat too. Along with that thought, I also found myself imagining the little pony trying to balance on a step-stool for added height as she cooked, which very nearly made me go “D'awww” again. However, being the incredibly tough guy that I am, I kept my cool this time and simply took another bite of my salad.
Yup, that's me. Jeremy Robin, cooler than arctic ice.
“You must be proud of your little sister, Applejack,” I commented as I reached for a biscuit. “I haven't had a dinner this great in a long, long time.”
“Aw, shucks, it ain't that good,” Apple Bloom replied with a bright blush.
Patting her sis on the back, the orange mare tipped her hat and said, “Sorry, Apple Bloom, but yer wrong an' he's right. This meal ain't good, it's great. Yer an earth pony an' yet ya worked magic again.”
“Eeyup,” added Big Mac, his compliment somehow unhindered by his mouthful of pie.
“Indeed, our Apple Bloom is an amazing cook,” spoke Zecora, giving the little filly a knowing wink, “and all without checking a single recipe book.”
Blushing bright enough to give her older brother's red coat a run for its money, the target of all this flattery squeaked, “C'mon, everypony, can't we just eat? Ah don't need all this praise!”
“Deal with it, Kiddo,” laughed Gilda, flicking her tail, “'cause you know we're just gonna keep doing it.”
The conversation went pretty much like that until dinner ended, with poor little Apple Bloom almost incandescent due to her bright, red embarrassment. But, much to her joy, all the flattery did eventually subside as the plates were removed from the table and taken into the kitchen to be washed. I offered my humble yet admittedly bumbling assistance, but the Boss lady just waved me back into the dining room saying that she, Zecora, and Bloom had it all covered. As I trotted back in, happily stuffed in a way I never thought possible for a vegetarian, I caught a glimpse of Big Mac fishing a bottle out of a nearby cabinet.
I gulped.
...Loud enough for him to hear.
Peeking over at me with his usual lethargic speed, the huge farmer saw my apprehension for what it was and, like a fucking godsend, remarked, “Don't worry yerself. Ah heard from mah sister. T'aint fer you. Ah can even take it outside if'n ya'd like.”
Now, I've sighed before. I've sighed hard. But I'll be damned if I didn't sigh harder than I ever had in my entire fucking life.
“No, no,” I mustered, relief washing over me. “I'm better now. I'm stronger. It's dusk now and it's cold out there. Drink it in here where it's warm.”
“Ya'll sure 'bout that?” he asked, eying me in a way that told me there was the distinct possibility that he could see directly into my soul.
Nodding, I answered, “Yeah, I'm sure. It's a dangerous temptation, but... it's a temptation that I've gotta face and say no to under my own power. I have to do it eventually and, shit, the chances of me successfully muscling that bottle away from you aren't slim-to-none, they're just none. So, yeah, go ahead. I'll just go see what Gilda's up to or someth~
“MAC, WHAT THE BUCK ARE YA'LL DOIN'?!”
Quick as lightning, Big Mac and I span around to see Applejack standing in the kitchen doorway with an absolutely vehement expression.
She looked like a lioness getting ready for the kill.
Gliding back into the room from the opposite direction, Gilda shouted, “Whoa, Boss, where's the fire?”
A single glare from the orange farmer shut my feathered friend's beak like a window and locked it tight.
Following suit, Zecora approached from behind her enraged... friend? Whatever, I'm pretty sure they're more than that, but that's a discussion for later, there were more pressingly murderous-looking matters to attend to at the moment. The zebra watched the scene unfold with a critical eye, her entire body tensing for something that I wasn't sure would happen and really, really didn't want to see happen. For a split second, I saw Apple Bloom peek from over Zecora's shoulders as well, but just as quickly as I'd seen her appear, she vanished, scurrying back to the dishes with a wisdom that I wish I currently had.
“Mac,” stated Applejack, her voice caught in that butter-zone where the quieter it is, the scarier it is, “put that bottle away. Now. No questions, no backtalk, just put it away. You know what Twilight said. You know what he's been through.”
Meeting the face of murder head-on, Big Macintosh stood his ground against his sister's icy glare and simply asked, “Don't he get a say in all this?”
…
…
…
Wow.
Just... wow.
Bigger balls than me, man. Seriously. Kudos, dude, but it's been nice knowing ya. I'd have offered him a cigarette and a blindfold if I had either of them on me at the time.
However, my initial shock wasn't given the chance to dwindle. Instead, Applejack followed her brother's example of earnest simplicity as she turned to face me and questioned, “Did he offer ya'll some?”
Immediately, I lost my cool. Hell, I lost all semblance of cool. Remember when I said I was cool earlier? Well forget that. I was all kinds of not-cool.
I flailed my forelegs wildly and exclaimed, “No! No! In fact, the first thing he said was that it wasn't for me! He even asked me if I wanted him to take it outside, I swear!”
“You swear?” she parroted, narrowing her eyes.
Oh dear, sweet, merciful God, what have I done?
Twilight told me the stories. AJ's the Element of Honesty. She's like a living lie detector.
But... but I wasn't lying.
“Look at how much I'm not lying!” screamed the voice inside my head.
Still, extreme stress has a way of making even the most honest man look like a liar.
Trembling like a leaf in the wind, I stood ramrod stiff as the farmer appraised me. What only took seconds felt like an infinite, everlasting, insert-hyperbole-here eternity.
“Alright,” she said at last, “Ah believe ya.”
In the microseconds that followed, I fell to the floor in a slippery puddle of my own perspiration.
“Boss...” came Gilda's actually concerned response to the whole heart-pumping scenario. “I think you might have killed him.”
Shaking her head, AJ let out an exacerbated sigh and asked, “Ya'll alright down there?”
A week.
An entire week.
An entire week of this.
Will someone please stop this emotional rollercoaster? I want to get off. Just... just... fucking Hell... Et tu, Twilight? Why have you thrown me to the wolves?
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Ten - Family Matters...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Ten – Family Matters
~ ~ ~
With what was likely the single most smug look in existence, I grinned and declared, “King me!”
“Ya'll are too good at this, it ain't fair!” griped Apple Bloom in return, placing a formerly captured red checker atop my newly crowned king. “Can't Ah just go back to beatin' Gilda?”
“Hey!” exclaimed the bird as she leaned back into the couch opposite of us. “I don't always lose!”
That wasn't what the last ten games had said.
Bloom and I both raised an eyebrow.
Placing a claw over her face to hide the growing redness, Gilda mumbled, “Just... sometimes... usually... more often than not...”
“I'll bet money that your battle strategy is to just try and rush her with your entire front row,” I snickered.
“You don't have any money!” the griffon snapped.
“He don't need any,” my tiny opponent laughed. “He's right. Ya do it every time.”
Blushing even harder, Gilda turned her head from us and grunted, “Fine then, you caught me. Your deductive prowess is staggering.”
“Oh, no you don't,” I replied, pointing a hoof. “Not those words, nuh-uh. I'll out Sir Arthur Conan Doyle your feathery butt any day of the week. Besides, you're not much of a Sherlock. More of a Watson, really.”
I'd have said ass instead of butt, but the kid was sitting right across from me and I'd promised the Boss that my mouth would be on its best behavior.
So far I was doing alright.
“Don't ya mean Sherclop an' Trotson?” questioned Apple Bloom confusedly, her face scrunching up in thought.
Really? Foiled by pony puns again? That's, what, the spazillionth time today?
“Must have slipped my mind,” I retorted, brushing off the inquiry. “So, got any other games? Risk is a personal favorite of mine.”
“What, that one that takes, like, 20 hours and involves you trying to take over the whole world or something?” piqued Gilda, still frowning.
“Yeah, that's the one.”
“Forget that, dude.”
“Aww, c'mon, don't be such a stick in the mud. We're supposed to be showing the kid a good time, remember?”
“No way, man, she kicks my flank at Checkers on a regular basis, I don't wanna have to defend an entire empire against her! I'll become Gilda, the general that got her forces massacred by a filly!”
“Right now you're more like Gilda, the Gigantic Wuss,” I smirked, my grin as Cheshire as possible without risking permanent damage to my cheeks.
At that, the bird's face went full-on crimson, her cheeks burning with wounded pride. In one swift motion, she launched from the couch, did a loop in the air, then landed in front of me with a single talon pointed squarely between my eyes.
To my credit, I didn't flinch.
“You're on,” she sneered menacingly. “I don't even care if I'm the one that wins, I'm gonna attack every single country you control on sight, buddy. You're going down first and not in a blaze of glory. I'm gonna make it sad and pathetic.”
“Do try,” I said, smiling serenely as I continued to press her buttons and dismissed her with a lazy wave of my hoof.
Narrowing her eyes into a squint that Clint Eastwood would have been proud of, Gilda quietly uttered, “Oh, it's a promise.”
“Ah don't get a vote in this, do Ah?” asked Apple Bloom, her eyes shifting between Gilda's barely subdued rage and my comparatively pleasant aloofness.
With a shrug, I answered her, “Don't worry, it'll be fun. Besides, if she does just go after me the whole time, all that'll really accomplish is making your victory all the more easy to achieve. Think about it... Apple Bloom, Destroyer of Words. Doesn't that have a nice, albeit somewhat menacing ring to it?”
After deliberating it for a few more seconds, an enormous smile overtook the little filly's face as she jumped to her hooves and exclaimed, “Ah'll go get the board!”
Heh, victory, thy name is Jeremy.
~ ~ ~
A few hours later and the three of us found ourselves embroiled in a bitter conflict.
Well, about as bitter as a conflict can get when one of your enemies is cuter than a friggin' box full of kittens.
“Wow, who would've guessed that the Griffon Kingdom shells out ten units per turn?” I snickered, eying an absolutely furious Gilda as I munched on a bowl of potato chips.
This next one's to her credit. The seething bird was only an arm's length away, so she could have just punched me in the nose if she really wanted to, and considering all the grief and incessant taunting I'd been putting her through, I probably would have deserved it.
For whatever reason though, she didn't. If anything, I'd say she was actually secretly enjoying having someone to butt heads against.
Heh, she was the one who said it first, right? Jerks of a feather flock together~
Setting her glass of (shocker!) apple juice down, Gilda crossed her arms, turned away from me, and spat, “You couldn't even let me have my homeland.”
Pointing at the board, I protested, “Hey, it's a war. I'm not supposed to let you have anything. And anyway, I'm not the one who took it from you in the first place. Apple Bloom did. I just got lucky and took it from her.”
“Stupid dice,” huffed the kid, pouting.
“Oh, geez, don't you complain too!” I exclaimed. “You're still winning! You've got at least a third of the map!”
Shrugging, Apple Bloom countered, “Well, ya'll just said it's a war, right? Can't say Ah'm happy to lose any countries. Unless Ah'm playin' against mah brother, Ah almost never lose.”
“Shhh!” I shushed her, leaning in melodramatically as if to share something far more secret than what I was about to say. “That'll just revive her half of the argument and we'll be back to square one.”
“I can still hear you,” Gilda snorted.
Turning to lock eyes with her, I deadpanned, “Of course you can, I wasn't really trying to keep you from listening in.” Rolling my eyes, I sighed, “You really don't know anything about humoring kids, do you?”
“I buck apples and I fly,” answered the bird grouchily. “Sometimes I buck apples and fly. Isn't that enough?”
“Not during wartime, soldier,” I snapped back, putting on my best R. Lee Ermey impression. “Now get back out there with guns blazin' and fight!”
Though she quickly suppressed it in favor of another frown, I'd seen the smile flash across her beak before she could quash it.
It would seem I was right. Butt-heads enjoy butting heads indeed.
“You're goin' down,” Gilda smirked, finally unable to continue glowering.
Picking her glass back up, the competitive griffon took a sizable gulp just in time for me to completely forget about the promise I had made with Applejack and say, “Not likely, I haven't done that since college.”
Gilda's response came first, sputtering immediately as she choked for air around the juice that had gone down her windpipe.
“What's that supposed to mean?” asked Apple Bloom.
Uhhh...
Gilda and I traded a worried look for a split-second before I coughed and answered, “I'll tell you when you're older.”
“Awww, I hate that answer!” Bloom complained. “Everypony's always tellin' me that!”
Back in control, I shrugged and replied, “Well, just think of it like this then. Once you're older you'll get to know all sorts of stuff.”
“But Ah wanna know now!” she continued, losing absolutely no steam in the process.
As if on cue, Zecora entered the room with an admonishing look aimed only at me and said, “Time teaches us all new things. Soon, Apple Bloom, you will see what it brings.”
It took me a moment to accept the fact that I had been simultaneously saved and scolded by the local Yoda.
Still, I eventually managed, “ Exactly. Some things take more time. And they're better with time. Don't think of it as being forced to wait for something. Stay a kid as long as you can. The adult stuff can wait. Besides, being an adult means a heap of responsibilities. Being a kid is way more fun.”
“Indeed, Jeremy, worded very well,” stated the zebra with a smile. “Though you slip sometimes, you're quite good with children, I can tell.”
“Guessing you had some siblings of your own?” asked Gilda offhand.
“Yeah I~
…
“Actually,” I said, my whole body going stiff. “I don't know.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” the griffon pressed. “You either did or you didn't, right?”
Staying silent for a moment, I stood up and shook my head, “I just... don't know. I can't remember.”
Gulping audibly as a chill ran down my spine, I thought back on my family life before leaving planet Earth in favor of Equestria. I had a mother. I had a father. I had two uncles, both great guys. And I had...
In a rush, I galloped out of the room, throwing open the front door and sucking in a breath of some much-needed fresh air.
There was something I was forgetting. Something big.
But what?
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Eleven – The Heart of the Problem...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Eleven – The Heart of the Problem
~ ~ ~
We never got around to finishing that game of Risk. After I sped out of the room, Apple Bloom figured that controlling most of the map was enough of a victory and boxed the whole thing back up. She was the first to trot over to me and ask me if I was alright.
I wanted to lie to her. I wanted to tell her that I was doing just dandy.
But I told her the truth.
I wasn't alright.
The worst part about it though, the thing that had my heart tied in a fucking knot, was the fact that I had no idea why I was so upset. I knew it had something to do with my family, but outside of that... the whole thing was a mystery.
It felt like I was looking at an old family photo. There'd be my mom and dad, mom fussing with his hair and cleaning his glasses just like she always did. Uncle Rob would be standing right behind me, giving me a pair of bunny ears and grinning like an idiot. Uncle Jim would be leaning a little off to the side, having never been a big fan of getting his picture taken. But then there was someone else too, someone who'd be standing right next to me with their hand on my shoulder. The conversation with Bloom, Gilda, and Zecora told me that this person was a sibling, or at least made me think that they were, but to what effect? Were they a brother? Were they a sister? Were they some combination of the two that only a heroin-abuser's addled brain could imagine?
I had no idea.
As hard as I tried, I couldn't pull from my mind a single goddamn thing about them. Their name. Their face. Hell, like I said, even their gender. It was all blotted out, like a confidential document with all of its most revealing information crossed out by order of the government with a black permanent marker.
After it became clear that I wouldn't be coming out of my worried, frantic state any time in the near future, Applejack approached me and actually offered me a drink.
I understood the gesture, that she'd go so far as to allow me one of the vices that I'd been prohibited from enjoying, but I turned it down all the same.
Which is weird for me, right? I surprised myself!
Heh, and if anything, that only frightened me even more. Me, a recovering addict of many varying substances, actually turning down a stiff glass of alcohol. That right there told me that whoever this person I couldn't remember was, they were important.
Really important.
The mind's a funny thing sometimes, but we're supposed to remember the important stuff, aren't we?
~ ~ ~
As I worked off my frustration under a cloudless sky and the bright midday sun, out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Zecora trotting towards me.
“Heya,” I greeted in between bucks, a small shower of apples falling into a few well-placed buckets.
“Greetings, Jeremy,” she replied, “would you mind speaking with me?”
Looking out across the orchards, I turned back to the zebra and said, “Actually, I've got a lot more work to get done. Don't want to be out here blindly kicking trees once it gets dark, right?”
“You've already worked today far more than you needed to,” she stated as she locked eyes with me. “Do not think that it escapes us just what it is you are trying to do.
Scraping at the dirt with a hoof, I averted my eyes and huffed, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Jeremy, please, I seek only to help you,” Zecora continued, her tone even. “In your mind there is a haze that you cannot see through. But know this, my troubled young friend. Running yourself ragged to ignore the pain is no means to an end.”
Now, while I'm usually good at returning fire in a conversation, having the plain truth shoved in your face makes for a tough opponent.
Sensing that she had more to say, I lifted my head to again meet her eyes. They shined with a wisdom that told me no matter how hard or how well I lied, she would still read me like a book.
“You wrestle with feelings that you do not understand,” the zebra spoke, her voice low but rife with emotion, “so you grasp at anger and search for something to reprimand.”
There, right there. That was something I could argue with.
“What are you talking about? I'm not angry, I haven't been angry about anything in weeks!”
Shaking her head solemnly, she continued, “I have seen the look on your face many, many times before. Though you may not remember, there is something that you have yet to forgive yourself for. And while I would like to believe that your words speaking otherwise are true, it is clear to me that the target of your rage is both now and has always been... you.” After pausing for a second, Zecora placed a hoof on my shoulder and, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, said, “You claim to have recovered from your failings, but still, there resides a deep hatred in your heart. You must let go of this anger before the real healing may start.”
A silence settled in between us for a moment. You could have heard a pin drop as though it were an atomic bomb.
“What do I do?” I questioned, a quake in my voice as her words rang like a church bell in my head. “I had a family, a full family, but one of them is just... gone. Missing. Why can't I remember them?”
Turning to direct her gaze towards the Apple Family's farmhouse, Zecora replied, “The answer to that question is what I hope to find. It is a turbulent place, the inner workings of the mind. You will receive no solace out here, bucking apples or pushing a plow. I wish to aid you, Jeremy, but only if you will allow.”
Wordlessly, I nodded my head. Following that, the two of us trotted towards the house.
~ ~ ~
“The spell I am about to attempt has long been forbidden in my tribe,” Zecora explained as she drew a circle of chalk around me on the floor. “I was exiled for practicing such magics that they could not abide.”
Oh, gee, that makes me feel a whole Hell of a lot better.
Nervously, I tapped a hoof against the floor, careful not to smudge the circle, and asked, “Uh, what is the spell supposed to do?”
Seeing as how the target of my question was busy brewing a potion... or something, Apple Bloom instead approached me and said, “It'll let ya take a trip inside yer head.”
Ooooookay. Well then, that answers everything.
“What my apprentice meant to say,” spoke the zebra as she finished whatever it was that she was doing (which ended up in a cloud of green smoke exploding from her cauldron, just so you know), “is that this spell works in a peculiar way. It will enable both yourself and another to embark upon a journey into your mind. Hopefully, in there will be the answers that you wish to find.”
Briefly, I considered snarking back about how I was pretty much being forced to find those aforementioned answers, but considering the efforts that they were so selflessly going through, and for the benefit of someone who was arguably one of the biggest jackasses in existence, I kept my tap shut.
Instead, however~
“So, I'm going on a spirit quest?” I questioned.
“A what?” came Applejack's confused retort.
Rubbing a hoof against the back of my head, I blushed and said, “Sorry, nothing, just too many hours spent browsing TV Tropes.”
“What?” she repeated, looking even more perplexed.
Before I could come up with a retort that would make more sense to her, Zecora stepped forward and announced that the preparations for the spell were complete.
To say that the following silence was heavy enough to be cut with a knife would be an understatement. I'd been told that not only I, but another, would be joining me inside the clusterfuck that I call my brain.
I knew exactly what was on everybody's minds.
“Apple Bloom and I must stay to maintain the spell,” Zecora stated as she sat down and took on something that reminded me of a Buddhist's meditative stance, “so it falls upon you remaining three too~
“I'll go,” announced Gilda, cutting the zebra off.
An entire room of eyes turned to face the griffon, more than a few of them apprehensive.
“Ya'll sure?” asked Applejack.
Her brother's expression mirrored her own.
Nodding, Gilda stepped inside the circle to sit down beside me and replied, “I'm sure.”
“I can't promise you that my head will make for a great place to vacation,” I said, eying the bird warily. “So, you're totally sure?”
With a shrug, she gave me another of her punches to the shoulder and smirked, “You're a fun guy. When I bite, you bite back. We jerks gotta stick together, right?”
More than a little flattered, I kept my eyes dry and replied, “Right.”
With a spark of light from the circle surrounding both Gilda and I, Zecora sighed and said, “Very well then. Let us begin.”
It was somewhere around that point, as the circle of chalk grew brighter and brighter, that my eyesight started failing me. It's lucky that I was sitting down, because the dizziness that soon followed would have knocked me right on my ass.
The very last thing that I remember before what felt like blacking out was the zebra seated in front of me saying, “Safe travels.”
The fact that she hadn't rhymed was what scared me more than anything else.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twelve – Remembrance (Flying on the Wisp of a Mental Wind)...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Twelve – Remembrance (Flying on the Wisp of a Mental Wind)
~ ~ ~
Imagine swimming in the vacuum of space as though it were an ocean, the bright stars around you close enough to touch.
That's what Zecora's spell felt like.
For a moment, Gilda and I just floated there in stunned silence. She cast me a couple awkward glances, kind of like the looks that you get from your friend when they're waiting impatiently for you to jump-start your car.
Gimme a break, birdbrain, I've never done this before.
Luckily, just as the griffon was about to open her beak and (assumingly) urge me to hurry things along, our surroundings began to fade. The star-speckled midnight sky shifted and coalesced into an image of the inside of a house.
My family's old house, in fact.
Two children scampered back and forth tossing pillows at each other, one a little boy and the other a slightly bigger girl. Despite his best efforts, the boy wasn't going to win any gold medals in pillow-fighting and took more than a few fluffy projectiles to the face. They continued on like that for a few minutes, waging their own little war, until a shout from several rooms away caught their attention. Together, they ceased their battle and fled the scene of the crime, pillows and couch comforters left strewn about in a scene of chaos that only two kids could cause.
As they darted out of sight, however, the room recovered from its state of disarray and two teenagers entered. Again, one was a guy and the other a girl, but this time their bickering was less of the innocent childlike variety and much more aggressive.
“You have to stop this,” said the girl, her voice low. “It's going to kill you.”
“I'm old enough to live my own life and make my own decisions!” the guy shouted back.
“And that excuses you to make decisions that could put you in a coma?”
“You're not my mother, Emily!”
My jaw dropped open as the name thundered through me like the shock wave from a cannon's peal.
Emily.
…
Emily.
…
Emily.
…
“Oh god,” I whispered, tears sliding down my ethereal face. “Oh god, no.”
In a flash, I remembered. I remembered everything.
“That doesn't mean I don't care about you,” Emily pleaded as she placed a hand on my past self's shoulder. “Won't you at least consider it?”
“Rehab's for addicts,” the other me bit back, his tone bitter. “I'm not an addict, I can quit any time I want.”
“Dammit, Jeremy, you're smarter than this! Did you even hear what you just said? That's the same old line that every addict says right before they fucking die!”
“You're right, I am smarter than this, I should have known that this conversation wouldn't go anywhere! You sound like a broken record, and you know what, I'm turning the player off! Get the fuck out of my life! You went through ROTC because you wanted to join the Army so fucking bad, so why don't you do us both a favor and go and get yourself shot?!”
After a few seconds of stark silence, Emily ran crying out of the room, then the whole scene began to dissolve. I didn't need to see what was coming next, I didn't want to, I knew that witnessing it repeat even one more time would kill me, but I had no control.
Helplessly, I watched as a funeral march and a granite tombstone materialized before my eyes. A volley of five rifles roared three times, jolting my griffon companion, but not me.
I was numb, just as numb as the young man who stood beside the grave watching as his sister's casket was lowered in.
I wanted her out of my life. I wanted her to leave me the Hell alone. I wanted her to die.
Well, I got my wish.
Emily joined the Army and was sent off to stand as a guard at the American Embassy in Iraq. I received the news of her death on a day that I'll always remember as the coldest, rainiest day of my life. A suicide bomber waltzed through what was supposed to be some of the tightest security that our government could afford and detonated 27 pounds of C-4 that he had hidden under his coat. He did it smack-dab in the center of the building. Five dozen innocent lives were blown to smoldering bits, my sister included. Emily was on guard duty at the time and through several letters that I had never replied to, I learned that her post was at the front desk.
At the very least, she never felt it.
I tried my hardest back then, and I suppose I was trying my hardest right now, to take some comfort in that fact.
I couldn't.
Maybe I wasn't the one that personally flipped the switch and leveled the building, but I was the reason she was there in the first place.
I killed my own sister.
Zecora's words echoed in my head.
“I have seen the look on your face many, many times before. Though you may not remember, there is something that you have yet to forgive yourself for. And while I would like to believe that your words speaking otherwise are true, it is clear to me that the target of your rage is both now and has always been... you.”
It's almost funny how wrong she was. I wasn't really angry because I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember because I was so angry, angry with myself for getting killed the only person who sought to save me from what I was becoming.
Forgetting her was my damaged psyche's coping mechanism.
“You claim to have recovered from your failings, but still, there resides a deep hatred in your heart. You must let go of this anger before the real healing may start.”
Hate.
Yeah, that's a good choice of words. I hated myself. I wanted to die.
Which was what my memories decided to show us next. In a flash, my darkened apartment appeared before our eyes and hanging down from the ceiling was the noose that epitomized all of the self-loathing and pure, unbridled hate that I felt for myself. I didn't even remember Emily at all by then, but there's no arguing against the fact that she was the one I was committing suicide for.
Heh, because nothing says “sorry” like a rope necktie, right?
Gilda stared speechlessly and put a talon to her beak to stifle a gasp, her eyes as wide as saucers. She turned to me, horrified, and asked, “You tried to kill yourself?”
When I opened my mouth to reply, nothing came out.
All I could think as a river bled from my eyes and washed me away was one, single, solitary word.
“Tried.”
We try all sorts of things sometimes. We try to do good things, bad things, and other things so morally complex that they're just too difficult to categorize in black and white like that.
As everything began to fade and I felt myself returning to the farmhouse floor, another thought occurred to me.
This next chapter is going to be a pretty long one, so don't be too angry with me if it doesn't get posted as quickly as these past three have. There will, however, be another brief intermission. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading!
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Intermission (Chapter X) – When She Loved Me
~ ~ ~
How about I regale you all with a fond tale? You'd like that, right?
It's about two great generals who were engaged in an apocalyptic struggle for survival.
In the Red Corner, there was me, Jeremy Robin; master of kung-fu, friend to all living things, and Chosen One to hold aloft the mighty Couch Comforter. In the Blue Corner stood my sister, Emily Robin; my villainous arch rival with a penchant for Starscream level treachery and wielding her lightning-quick dual pillow blades.
She swung to kill, but with my larger weapon and it's considerably greater surface area, I expertly defended against her assault and stuck back with my own flurry of deadly blows. A mere mortal would have succumbed to my might, but I knew my sister well and kept in mind her quasi-deity status. I had to be efficient and strategic, carefully keeping my blind spots behind me and her right in front. But Emily knew this too and kept an ever-flowing sidestep pace, putting forth a valiant effort at slipping behind me and slaying the unslayable.
...
I'm not fooling anyone, am I?
So, yeah, it was around the 20th pillow to the face that my fantasy started to crumble around me. My sister had always been a little bit bigger than me, my big sister after all, but she didn't have to throw it in my face like that and always use it to her advantage.
I mean, c'mon, that's just plain rude.
"Ready to say 'Uncle'?" Emily teased, twirling one of her pillows by the case like a nunchaku. "You know you're gonna."
"Heck no!" I shot back, reaffirming my grip on my giant piece of foam. "A good soldier never surrenders! Now prepare to face defeat at my hands, vile scourge of my bedroom!"
"Kids, are you causing a ruckus in there?" called the voice of our mother, currently in the middle of cooking us some much-needed fuel in the form of spaghetti and meatballs.
"Uhhh..." we simultaneously replied, "...no?"
"If I come in there, I won't find a mess, will I?"
Quickly, Emily and I surveyed our surroundings.
There... um... well, there had been some collateral damage. Also, we managed to flip the couch over somehow. Probably how I ended up with the comforter.
It's amazing the things you can forget when you're in the heat of the moment, fighting for your life.
"Uhhh... no?" we again replied, trading doomed glances back and forth.
Wasting no time, mom then sighed and asked, "You flipped it over again, didn't you?"
"And theoretically, if we said 'yes'?" Emily questioned back.
With another sigh, mom said, "Grounded."
But we didn't hear her. We knew our fate. We were already working on turning the large seat back over to see if we could be spared.
"How is this thing so heavy?" I grunted, failing to budge it at all.
"You think maybe we're just weak?" my sister whispered back, rolling her eyes as she too couldn't move it.
Weak? No.
Unpolished and under-trained? Perhaps.
However, just as one and one made two, two Robins made... a bluejay or something, I dunno, but the point is there were two of us.
"C'mon, we can do it," I said with a nod. "We just have to put aside our differences for the common good."
"You mean like your being a giant dummy?"
"How about our difference in opinion then?"
"Good return," she giggled, scruffing the top of my shaggy head with her hand. "Alright, let's do this. United we stand, divided we get grounded. Let's give it all we've got."
It was then that our latent superpowers manifested.
Like the Incredible Hulk, but powered by fear as opposed to anger, I imagined the fate worse than death awaiting me and pushed on the couch with all of my newly-acquired strength. Meanwhile, on Emily's side of the coin, she must have gained the power of Hercules, Thor, and Superman all at once because with one colossal shove she picked up all of the remaining slack and successfully flipped the couch back into it's correct position... maybe a few feet to the left, but whatever, details.
With the speed of a tomahawk missile, we then set about sliding the big chair those last remaining inches, stealthily reapplying its comforters just as our mother strode into the room.
Because we're ninjas.
"I heard the whole thing, you two. I was only a room away," mom smirked.
Darn, she always was such a chessmaster, how could we have believed she wouldn't know of our clever plan?
"But, but it's back where it was now!" I protested, putting on my most pleading look.
I've been trained from birth how to best deal with my parents.
No humility. Look as pathetic as possible.
Unfortunately, mom didn't buy it and instead shook her head and said, "Just because you managed to fix a problem you caused doesn't mean that you shouldn't be punished for causing the problem in the first place. Don't you agree?"
Ah, crud. Logic. Enemy to all children.
"It'll be lights out right after dinner, alright? No staying up late and no TV. You both have school in the morning anyway."
With downcast eyes, we admitted our defeat and together replied, "Yes, ma'am."
Returning from whence she came, our mother then departed us just as quickly as she had appeared, muttering something about Parmesan cheese along the way.
As Emily and I turned to head upstairs to our room, my sister grinned and said, “Not bad back there in the fight, by the way. You probably should have been the one with two pillows though, 'cause you're faster. It doesn't make a lot of sense for the littlest guy to wield the biggest weapon.”
“Who said my fighting style was ever supposed to make sense? I'm Dan Hibiki, master of the Saikyuo-Ryuu Style!”
“Ugh,” she groaned, blushing. “Just because you can beat me at one thing, and with the worst character, doesn't mean you get to brag.”
“Is that so? Wanna put your money where your mouth is before mom finishes dinner?”
Smiling, she darted up the stairwell and hollered back, “You're on, Shrimp!”
And so the game began again~
~ ~ ~
To be continued in our regularly-scheduled programming, Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Thirteen – Guilt
~ ~ ~
The events occurring in this story are in no way, shape, or form canon to the universe of Fallout: Equestria. All characters, places, events, and themes from that story that appear in this chapter are used with the expressed permission of the original author, Kkat.
- Joseph Raszagal
~ ~ ~
By the time Twilight returned from Canterlot, I'd already locked the door to the library's guest room and been sequestered in there for a full two days and nights. I didn't give everyone back at Sweet Apple Acres much time to respond after Gilda and I exited the ethereal interior of my head. The moment I blinked back to reality, I was out the door and halfway down the dirt road to town.
The griffon flew after me for a moment, but either I was too fast (unlikely) or she knew that nothing she could say would do much to help me. She'd seen everything I'd seen after all. If anything, I'm sorry that she did.
Those memories should have been my own personal cross to bare, yet here I was burdening everyone else around me with it instead.
Yeah, I'm a fucking fantastic friend.
To be honest, I'm surprised that Twilight didn't just pound the door down with her hooves or magic the thing off of it's hinges. She'd already bested the Goddess of the Night and the maddened God of Chaos before my dumbass popped into Equestria, so I'm pretty sure that a piece of wood with a brass knob would have done little to prevent her from storming in if she really wanted to. The little unicorn made sure to knock first, at the very least, likely to make sure that I hadn't gone and done what she'd been tasked with keeping me from doing ever since I first arrived.
And as chance would have it, the thought had crossed my mind more than a few times.
Or rather, the thought had stayed stuck in my head for every second of every minute of every hour ever since I locked the damn door.
To kill myself or not to kill myself, that was the question. I'm sure Shakespeare would understand.
Strangely though, while all of the motivation was there, for whatever reason the energy just wasn't. I felt like the lowest creature in existence, but really, what would slashing my throat at this point actually prove?
That I can make a bunch of innocent little ponies cry, probably.
With that lovely little ponderance in mind, I announced through my wooden barrier that I would come out when I was damn well ready to and no sooner. Apparently not the response that she was hoping to hear, I listened as the clip-clop of hooves signaled her descent back down the stairwell, then promptly right out through the front door. Moving over to the room's sole window, I caught a glimpse of my caretaker as she galloped down Ponyville's main road towards the distant orchards of Sweet Apple Acres.
Wincing at the thought of all the stress that cloistering myself in here was most definitely putting her through, I let out a heavy sigh before returning to the seat I'd recently become best mates with.
“She really is a good friend, isn't she?” I spoke aloud to my otherwise vacant surroundings. “Who on Earth would bother to worry about me?”
I sure as fuck wouldn't.
Shaking my head, I leveled my gaze upon the television and video game console I'd set up, my numb mind wandering for a moment to marvel again at the fact that I had been able to hook them up at all. Interestingly, though such inventions hadn't quite made their way to the ponies of Equestria just yet, home electricity and wall sockets had, which presented the perfect opportunity for me to drown my sorrows in digital distractions.
“Heh, power outlets in a tree.”
Heaving another sigh, I clicked my way through several menus and started up the game, the somber tones of what was supposed to be Fallout 3 drifting out through the built-in stereo speakers.
~ ~ ~
“So, what is it exactly that you're trying to accomplish here?” a pony suddenly sitting next to me asked as my character marched out of New Appleoosa and promptly filled a raider's face full of lead.
Without turning to look at my guest, I groaned, “I thought we agreed on this. I'm not speaking to you.”
“Well, you are right now, aren't you?” she returned, smiling.
“Only long enough to lay down the law again,” I said flatly. “I'm not crazy, I just haven't slept. You're not real, just some figment of my imagination fueled and brought to life by my tired brain. Now go away.”
“You know I'm not going to do that, Jeremy.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.”
“So, why not talk to me then?”
“Because that really would make me crazy.”
Cocking an eyebrow, the young mare shook her head and said, “And I suppose that locking yourself in here all by yourself for three days and nights without food or rest somehow isn't crazy?”
“I've been drinking water,” I feebly protested.
Shaking her head again, she flicked her brown tail in undisguised irritation and stated, “I guess one out of five isn't that bad.”
Bitch, how dare you poke holes in my defense with obvious observations?
Not taking my eyes off of the game, I let out a snort and ground the gears in my head for a change of topic.
Wait, what the fuck am I doing? She isn't even real!
Letting out another groan, I pressed a hoof to my forehead and rattled, “You know what? Fuck it. Fuck all of it. Why the Hell not, I'll go crazy too. How much worse could that be, really? So you want to talk, Delusion Girl? Let's talk.”
“About your sister, Emily?”
“Fuck no, just because I've agreed to lose my mind doesn't mean we're going down that road.”
“Then what would we talk about?”
Taking my hoof from my head, I set my eyes on the mare sitting next to me. Littlepip had first appeared sometime last night and had come and gone a half dozen times since, always playing the part of my damaged brain's psychiatrist, I guess trying to get my bio computer upstairs to reboot from safe mode or something. She was a little thing, to be sure, but despite her size she seemed to carry in her stride a sense of strength that I couldn't quite place.
Her gunmetal gray coat shimmered in the wan light that the TV shown back on us. As per her usual, she was dressed in what I'd come to understand was cobbled-together combat armor, a cumbersome looking ankle strap finishing off the post-apocalyptic ensemble.
It all came together to form a picture far too familiar. Stealing a glance at the screen, I pulled the camera's zoom out as far as it would go.
There, represented down to every last identical detail, was the exact same pony seated beside me.
“For starters, this game,” I began, my voice a low grumble. “You're in it, but you weren't before. It wasn't like this back at home, the game was almost entirely different. Now it's all ponies and the story is changed to the point of being almost unrecognizable... or maybe, I don't know, expanded. Certain things are the same, but the rest is all altered.”
Leaning back into the bed behind her, Pip shrugged and answered, “Interesting, isn't it?”
Deadpanning, I eyed her with all of the sourness in the universe and said, “That's it?”
“Yeah, I'm gonna be dead honest with you here,” she chuckled, rubbing her cheek with a hoof in embarrassment. “No clue at all. None whatsoever.”
“That's hardly a satisfying answer, you know,” I quipped, rolling my eyes.
“Well, it's the answer you're getting.”
“What would you say if I told you that watching you spontaneously combust right here in front of me would bring me unparalleled, unquantifiable joy?”
“I'd say you have some serious issues that you need to sort out with a good counselor.”
Making hamburger out of another raider pony's face with my revolver, I snorted, “Now there's a fun little understatement.”
With another shrug, the gray mare said, “If it helps, I'm just as confused about it as you are.”
“No, actually, that doesn't help. That just makes things even more psychotic. I'm talking to an imaginary girl from a video game that I'm playing and I'm somehow dreaming up things for her to say every once in a while as tips and pointers to things that I haven't even done in the game yet.”
“Hey, just trying to help.”
“Well nobody likes a backseat gamer... even if they can apparently see the future or whatever.”
“Not quite future sight,” Littlepip commented as she gestured towards my character, currently locked in combat with an abomination.
Literally an abomination, by the way. I wasn't just flavoring that, that's what they're called. And they're just as pleasant as they sound.
Shaking her head, she sighed, “I've just been there before. It's my past, I've already completed my journey. Old Appleoosa, Steelhooves, Red-Eye, my addiction, the Gardens of Equestria... Homage... all of that's behind me now.”
A stifling silence settled in the room as Pip closed her emerald eyes and lowered her head.
“How'd that turn out for you?”
“Celestia fuck me sideways,” she growled in return, catching herself a second later and blushing fiercely.
Rubbing the back of my head with one hoof, I floundered with my words as I replied, “Uh, I didn't mean t~ I mean, um, I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm still keeping my lips tight about certain things after all, right?”
Letting out a frustrated breath, Pip laughed emptily, “No, no, it's alright. I'm done with secrets anyway. Trying to keep them only ever got my and everypony else's flanks thrown even further into the fire. Simple secrets, convoluted secrets, fucking secrets that I somehow managed to keep from myself. I'm... I just don't have the energy for it anymore. I'm drained.”
Turning to face her, I gulped as I saw the one thing that the game's graphics, no matter how sharp or clever, could convey about the company I was currently keeping.
The pain. All of the pain.
Her expression shook me all the way to my core. I'd never seen so much ache and just beholding it was enough to send a sharp stab through my heart as well.
But truth be told, if I had to pick one element of it that hurt worst of all, it would be that even with all of that pain written as clear as day across her face Littlepip never once shed a single tear.
“We have a few things in common, actually,” she spoke, her voice completely hollow. “I struggled with addiction for a while myself, though admittedly the circumstances might have been a bit more...”
“Fucked up?” I offered.
“Yeah,” Pip replied with a nod. “Honestly, I'm amazed that I was able to do everything that I did. Had myself convinced that I couldn't perform at my peak without those chems. Things... could have turned out a lot worse.”
I wanted to say something, point out that she beat her addiction in the end, but it was clear just by looking at her that she was on a roll.
“I succeeded in helping the new Elements of Harmony bring the sun back to Equestria,” she spoke, her voice completely hollow. “I spared the ponies that I loved from a military empire and a nutball with a god complex and a headlight stuck in his skull. I... linked myself into the machines controlling the weather to break the eternal cloud cover blocking out the blue.”
Having played more than enough of the game by now, I quietly questioned, “A Crusader Mainframe?”
“Yeah,” the mare answered softly, idly batting at her brown mane, “I put myself inside it... where I'd stay until my body finally broke down, watching over the wasteland from my mechanical eyes in the sky.”
“Locking yourself away from Homage for the rest of both of your lives,” I thought to myself, my heart twisting harder still.
“All in a day's work for the Element of Sacrifice.”
Dumbstruck, my thoughts took this opportunity to ramble out without my permission. As such, I quickly found myself saying, “Damn.”
“Heh, yeah, tell me about it.”
Still grasping at straws, I turned my attention back to the game and switched from my pistol over to an assault rifle. Locked and loaded, I proceeded to open up a big ol' can of whoop-ass all over a crowd armored hostile ponies. It was just as the last one dropped to a bullet-laden heap onto the ground that an interesting thought occurred to me.
“You know, the original version of this game had several endings,” I commented as I reloaded my weapon. “They were all kinda similar, but the differences were still clearly there.”
Sitting back up, Littlepip stared at the screen for a moment before asking, “What are you getting at?”
“Maybe this game has different endings too,” I replied, giving her a small smile, “and with how changed-up everything else already is, maybe those endings won't be so similar to each other at all.”
Another moment of silence stretched on as Pip took in that information, biting her lower lip in nervous concentration.
After a while, she turned to me and said, “Even if I ended up back in the Single Pony Project... if I could see Homage just one more time that would be enough.”
Now, I've always known that making promises when you don't really know how to go about keeping them has never really been the greatest idea, but dammit, how else are you supposed to reply to that?
“I'll see what I can do,” I replied, setting my controller down and rolling my stiff neck.
Grinning, Pip laughed with more mirth than I'd yet to hear from her and remarked, “You don't have to go out of your way or anything, but it's appreciated all the same.”
“Hey, who said I was going out of my way,” I responded, grinning. “As far as I'm concerned, it's just a game and you're just some part of my subconscious, right? Maybe all I'm saying is I'd like to see a happy ending.”
“Happy endings tend to take a lot of work, you know?”
Closing my eyes, I let my grin widen just a teeny bit further as I said, “Doesn't matter. They're worth it.” Taking a second to debate whether or not I wanted to delve further into the madness that was comforting a pony who may or may not even exist, I then added, “Besides, you've suffered enough. I really am sorry if you felt obligated to tell me all of the shit that you did, but I'm kind of glad you did too. Nobody deserves to carry all of that weight alone. Sharing the pain sometimes doesn't feel fair to others, but then again, it's more than a little surprising how willing some are to endure that pain if it means lifting your spirits.”
And that's about when the blatantly, painfully obvious finally dawned on me.
Oh my God, I'm an idiot. I swear, if stupid were an ore I'd have mined the surface of the whole planet clean.
Taking to my hooves, I stepped forward and quickly set about switching the television and game system off. Turning around, I faced Littlepip one last time, my heart thudding in my chest as though it were going to burst at any given moment.
“I have to go.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I'm sorry, I just~
“It's alright. I get it.”
With tears sliding unbidden down my face, I shook my head and said, “And I didn't. But now... now I do. Thanks, Pip. I needed this.”
“No problem,” she smirked, waving me off with a hoof. “Any time.”
~ ~ ~
Blinking, I sat up from my position on the floor in a state of sleepy confusion. Rubbing at my crusty eyelids, I scanned my surroundings and found them to be just as I left them.
The only exception being the TV, still on and still displaying my game.
“Pretty sure I shut that off,” I said as I scratched at my tired noggin. “Was... was all of that just a dream? When did I even fall asleep?”
Standing on wobbly legs, I made my way over to the window and took in the picturesque view of nighttime Ponyville. A full moon shined high in the sky and for a second I could swear I saw it twinkle, the sight giving off the strange impression that it was winking at me.
With a shrug, I wrote it off as my groggy brain readjusting to consciousness and trotted over to the door. Lifting a tentative hoof to the handle, I resisted the urge for a smattering of seconds before taking one more look at the seat that had been occupied by my odd visitor.
Smiling, I let out a heavy sigh and returned my attention to the task at hand, er, hoof.
~ ~ ~
“Twilight?” I whispered as I opened the door to her room.
Looking up from a large tome, she tilted her head and asked, “Jeremy?”
“O-oh... I'm sorry,” I sputtered, ready to turn and leave, “I didn't know you were reading.”
“And I didn't know you were ready to come out of your room and talk,” Twilight said, giving me a maternal look that would have on any other day felt patronizing. “I can finish this later. What's up?”
“I suppose I was, but that was then and this is now. Again, I can finish this later. Would you like to talk?”
With an anxious nod, I entered the room and quietly closed the door behind me.
What followed was an in-depth description of the past few days' events, all of the slow decent into insanity and strange hallucinogenic dreams included.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Fourteen – Everypony Hurts...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Fourteen – Everypony Hurts
~ ~ ~
This chapter is in canon with another story of mine, "Psychedelica – Welcome to the Party". It's recommended that you read it, but it's not really necessary. The day I command you what to read is the day that ponies fl~ Oh... wait. Never mind.
~ ~ ~
After trotting into Twilight's room and explaining that I was ready to... well... explain myself, the purple pony and I decided to relocate to the kitchen downstairs. Humming a tune quietly to herself, she set about heating a kettle on the stove and preparing two cups of tea. A few minutes ticked by as she paced back and forth between the two halves of her task, stopping with a cheery smile when a loud whistle announced that the steaming water was ready to be poured.
Sensing (with a great deal of accuracy, mind you) that I was still several thousand miles away from a word like “composure”, Twilight placed a mug down in front of me and graciously offered a compromise. Rather than simply forcing me to dredge the murky waters of my past alone, she proposed sharing with me some of her own personal tales as well.
Nodding sheepishly, I took a greedy drink from my tea to steady myself before kicking things off.
I spoke of Emily, of course, diving back into a plethora of old memories that I had only recently regained; from the countless heated games of Street Fighter and Darkstalkers that I almost always won to our daily wrestling matches that I unfortunately almost always lost (those stupid growth spurts never seem to come when you're in a headlock and tapping out for air). Every detail that I could remember was included, down to the most mundane drivel. Food fights, favorite cartoons that we watched together, theories on life and the universe that only two children could come up with, Seinfeldian debates over whether Batman could beat Spiderman in a gentlemanly round of fisticuffs... anything and everything. I earned more than a few laughs along the way, sending my lavender caretaker into a particularly powerful fit of giggles upon reminiscing about a legendarily disastrous conflict my big sis and I had gotten into at a beach in Charleston, South Carolina.
I'm still not sure how we got that surfboard embedded in the lifeguard tower, but I heard it took them a week to fix it.
Unfortunately, as I drained the rest of my cup, it occurred to me that stories from the happier, bygone years of my life were not what I was supposed to be divulging.
Like it or not, I had to move on to the rest.
“When I first came here, I had a drug problem... a big one,” I stated, Twilight nodding along silently as I spoke. “Well, you weren't the first to try and help me, key word there being try. The first was Emily. I can't say that I was being very secretive about it, but in hindsight I guess it did seem a little strange to me that my parents never really noticed before they kicked the bucket.”
The immediate look of sympathy that flashed across the unicorn's face spoke volumes.
Shaking my head, I gave her a small smile and said, “Hey now, that was a long-ass time ago. Car accident... or, I guess it would be a carriage accident around here. Either way, I had quite a bit of time to deal with that already. As far as I'm aware there was next to nothing that I or anyone else could have done to prevent it, short of asking for divine intervention maybe. Still, that's another barrel of monkeys entirely.”
Another nod, albeit a sad one, signaled for me to continue.
“My sister though,” I choked, my voice losing a bit of its timbre, “I feel like there's a lot I could have done. Or maybe not have done.”
“I take it she died as well?” Twilight cautiously ventured, her tone soft.
“Yeah,” I answered, glancing down at my empty mug in search of additional liquid support.
Catching on, a violet aura encased it and whisked it over to the still-steaming kettle on the stove. After refilling it and adding another baggie of tea, the purple pony then returned it to me.
Licking my lips, I proceeded to spend a minute and a half preparing to say something, only to stop myself before the words could properly form. Looking down at my steeping beverage, my mouth curled into a tight frown and I released a heavy sigh that I wasn't aware I had been holding in.
“Dammit,” I groaned.
“Take your time, I can wait as long as needed,” Twilight said soothingly.
Rubbing my head with a hoof, I replied, “Until this cup is finished?”
“As many cups as you'd like, so long as you're comfortable.”
“Said the date-rapist.”
“Excuse me?”
“Huh?” I replied, spacing out. “Oh... sorry. I'm sure you've noticed it before, I tend to fall back on humor when I'm stressed. Doesn't really matter what kind of stress either. Sad, angry, scared, confused... sadfused, scangry. However I'm feeling, if I'd rather not feel that way I try to make light of something. Anything, really.”
“Yes, I've noticed,” the librarian retorted, cocking an eyebrow, “but still, that one was a little dark for my tastes.”
“Noted,” I chuckled anxiously, letting out an irritated snort. “Alright, alright, I swear I'll tell you what's going on inside my head in a minute, I just need to calm down. How about... how about I tell you what made me decide to come and talk to you in the first place?”
“That sounds like as good as any a place to start, but given the way you're segueing into this I'm guessing that it wasn't a matter of simply deciding to?”
“No, not really. I kind of... started hallucinating... I think.”
“Hallucinating?”
“Yeah.”
“You... think?”
“Yeah. It's complicated.”
“Alright, well like I said, take as long as you need.”
“Heh, I know,” I smirked sourly, biting my lower lip. “Well, you know I was in there for a while. I was sort of forcing myself to stay awake. I don't really know why, maybe because I didn't want to be in a crisp state of mind at the time and sleep deprivation sounded like a good way to spin some cobwebs in my brain and slow things down.”
“Ah, hence the hallucinations.”
“Yeah, I think.”
“You think?”
“That's the strange bit. It all felt really... er... real, but at some point I blinked and then suddenly woke up in my bed. Stranger still, I can remember most of what happened as clear as day, which I know shouldn't be the case for a dream.”
After considering this for a moment, recognition sparked in Twilight's eyes for a moment so brief that I could have sworn I'd imagined it.
A microsecond later, she shrugged and stated, “The dream state is hardly a predictable thing. Perhaps the intensity of your dream and its relevance to the things that have been weighing on your mind helped imprint it into your short-term memory.”
“Sounds believable,” I returned, giving her a shrug of my own, “though I have to say, it looks like you might be withholding a bit from me. Anything I should know?”
Rolling her eyes, Twilight sighed, “Let's just say that I know a certain somepony who can enter the realm of dreams and mold them to her own liking.”
My jaw dropping, I stammered, “A-are you serious?”
“Quite,” she said in return, nodding, “though I would like to say that she usually does so with the best intentions, just as it seems she did with you. Still, I'll have to have a word with her involving the breaching of other pony's privacy, good intentions notwithstanding.”
“Wouldn't this person have to read my mind in order to know what's wrong and how best to advise me?”
“She can.”
“Oh, well... that's... interesting. Is this pony someone I know?”
“It is, but in the interests of keeping relations amiable I think I'd like to keep her identity anonymous for now.”
“Even though I apparently couldn't keep anything hidden from her to save my life?”
“I~
“Joking, hun, joking,” I laughed, lifting a hoof to stop her. “Whoever this pony is, they lent me a hand when I really needed it, so I can't say I'm in a position to complain. I will, however, go out on a limb and make a few wild assumptions while I'm still trying to avoid the main subject. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Alrighty then, let's see if I'm as smart as my English teacher thought I was,” I said, scratching the scruff of my chin in concentration. “This pony was capable of reading my mind and both entering my dreams and altering them as she saw fit, so I'm guessing she's got quite a bit of clout when it comes to power. Also, she's apparently a 'she', right? Thanks for letting that slip early on, by the way.”
A quick hoof to the librarian's forehead punctuated my statement.
“If I had to take a wild stab in the dark, I'd say it's one of your princesses, they seem to be the ones capable of all the really impossible stuff. Probably not the pink one though.”
“Cadance.”
“Yeah, probably not the pink one.”
“You really don't like her, do you?”
“I'll give her a chance later, you know, once I'm less sadscangryfused,” I smirked, waving it off. “Anyway, as far as I'm aware that leaves the other two. I... can't say I know enough about either to accurately pick which one, but I'm pretty sure it was one of them. Besides, ever since I mentioned them your poker face started failing harder than a patch of wet cement during a rainstorm.”
Immediately adopting an expression devoid of absolutely anything, Twilight replied, “Oh?”
“Totally.”
“Huh, weird.”
“I love it when I'm not stupid. Still, you're not going to let the cat out of the bag, are you?”
“I'm quite certain I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Grinning, I remarked, “Thought as much.”
“Well, moving on, what was this dream of yours about?”
“Now that's just the thing,” I answered, narrowing my eyes as I stared back down into my newly darkened tea. “You know those things that came with me through the portal, right? The ones that you've been wanting to tinker around with?”
“The electronics, yes. I can't say I've seen anything like them before.”
“Well, I hooked a few of them up so I could play a game to pass the time and, I dunno, keep myself from thinking about anything,” I continued, thinking back on the surreal experience. “The game sort of changed during the ride here, going from human version to some kind of pony version 2.0, and in the dream I was playing the game with a character from the game itself sitting right there alongside me. She'd pester me every once in a while, I'd tell her to take a long walk off a short pier, and she'd point out things in the game that I didn't even know yet.”
Taking that bit of information in, I watched as the lavender mare's eyes steadily widened.
“Yeah,” I said, taking a sip from my cup, “more than a little weird, right? The thing is, that's just what she would do whenever she wasn't trying to get me to open up about the stuff that I'm supposed to be telling you right now. The stuff about my sister. Eventually, after I stopped grumping at her to fuck off, she started telling me some things about herself... some really heavy things. I know she wasn't real, or at this point I think she wasn't, but it looked like the stuff that she was saying cut her pretty deep. I kind of lost track of the meaning of the word 'hypocrisy' and told her that it was good to share with others sometimes, if only to vent.”
“And that's when it hit you?”
“Like a ton of bricks. I felt like such an idiot.”
“Hmmm,” Twilight pondered aloud, “if I really wanted to logic my way through this, I'd say it was your subconscious trying to soften you to the idea of seeking some outside help... but... that still doesn't explain the part about her enlightening you to facets of a game that you yourself haven't explored yet. As far as I'm aware, that should be impossible. Then again, Pinkie's proven to me time and again that precognition, no matter how unexplainable, can still occur.”
“Pinkie Pie can predict the future?” I gasped, looking up from my tea to lock eyes with the unicorn.
“In a rudimentary way, yes, but it tends to waver at times between the vague and the oddly specific.”
“Sounds frustrating.”
“You have no idea.”
At that the two of us shared a quick laugh, Twilight's portion more than a little strained.
“Could this mystery pony of yours have taken a peek into the future?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Honestly, I don't know,” she answered.
“Well, the game was still on when I woke up,” I commented, searching for a way to make sense of things. “Maybe she played a bit and used that as a starting point.”
“That sounds more reasonable.”
“Impressive too. A goddess and a video game fan. One that's capable of learning how to play a game that didn't even exist in her world a few months prior. A tad too heavy-handed, given the heart-wrenching story I was fed, but still, impressive all the same.”
“Goddess?” Twilight innocently questioned.
Deadpanning at her, I maintained an unimpressed expression for every bit of six seconds before breaking into another bout of laughter. Failing to hold her composure as well, the librarian quickly joined me.
Once our mirth died down, however, a stifling silence moved in to take its place.
Noticing the lapse, Twilight cleared her throat and said, “How about I take over for now and tell you a few things about myself that you haven't heard yet?”
“O-okay,” I mumbled, blushing at the knowledge that she'd clearly stepped up to the plate when I had failed to do so myself yet again.
“To start off, what's your concept of the word 'insanity'?”
“Wow, that's where you'd like to start? You don't pull any punches, do you?”
“I try not to, no.”
“Uh, well, I'm not sure. If I were to dig back into the jokes, I guess I'd say something like 'myself', but if you're going where I think you're going with this then that would be in pretty bad taste.”
“It's alright, I take no offense.”
Wincing as I hit the nail on the head, I pointedly looked away and commented, “I don't really know how to keep going in this direction. It's a two-way conversation, but everything I'm thinking just sounds awful in my head. I'm... sorry?”
“Don't worry about it, I'll handle this part,” she said in return, smiling tiredly. “I sort of... hmm, how to word it... peered into the unknown? I took a look at something that I wasn't supposed to and, for a lack of a better way to explain it, it took a look back at me.”
Leaning back in my chair, I coughed into my hoof and retorted, “It took a look back?”
“I was experimenting with a device that would let me see another pony's thoughts,” Twilight explained, her expression glassing over for a moment as something else seemed to dawn on her. “There was more than a little magic woven into the process, but come to think of it, the science involved was rather esoteric and complex as well. Interesting that the devices that came along with you, things that you yourself wrote off as simple recreational tools, would catch my fancy when I've already explored things best described as 'forbidden'.”
“Hey, that's science in a nutshell,” I offered. “You already did that, so it's behind you. The stuff that I brought with me is still a mystery, so you're curious. Makes sense to me.”
“Good point,” the purple pony agreed before changing tack and resuming where she had left off, “but as I was saying. In my haste, I... I bit off more than I could chew. More than anypony could likely chew, actually. Peering into this mind came at a price that I had no way of preparing for. I found my mind immediately sundered, vivid hallucinations following suit and threatening to consume me. I was lucky to have the pony who's mind I had entered there to care for me, but really, there was only so much that they could do. What I'm going to tell you will sound silly, I'm sure, but it was nonetheless the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced. And mind you, I've come close to death more than once, so I would like to stress that despite the strange innocuousness of the imagery, these hallucinations were no less paralyzing to me at the time.”
“I'm all ears, Twi,” I stated, giving her my full attention.
“Everything...” the librarian began quietly, closing her eyes and hesitating for a second, “everything around me turned into candy and I turned into candy along with it. I watched as my body transformed right in front of my own eyes, fur and tissue morphing into the various layers of a single dessert. It looked like the sort of thing that would have come out of a horror story meant to frighten little foals, but in place of the blood and gore was an unending stream of sugar that somehow managed to be even more grotesque. Music played at volumes that I was certain would rupture my eardrums. It played all around me and nightmarish voices sang along with it, all in celebration of an everlasting party that I couldn't escape. At first, I couldn't speak or even close my eyes, even as the bright colors threatened to blind me. It felt like sewing needles were being jabbed into my brain through my retinas, sharp spikes of a thousand different pink hues. I tried to scream, but for what seemed like an eternity I couldn't so much as breathe. Once I could, however, I wasn't able to stop myself from screaming. I just laid there, wailing and thrashing, until I passed out from overexertion. When I regained consciousness, rather than finding that everything had returned to normal, there it all was again, bright and piercing and too pink to ever even begin to fully describe.”
At a loss for words, I wracked my brain during the silence that followed and eventually mustered, “Okay, first of all, I think I should say that regardless of however you thought I might react to that, the word 'silly' doesn't come to mind. Are... are you alright? Did it stop?”
“Alright?” Twilight inquired, opening her eyes and leveling them on me. “That's another good question. I wish I could answer it.”
Yikes.
“The second one, however, I can answer,” she picked back up, taking a moment to sip from her own neglected cup of tea. “No, it never stopped. It's all around me right now.”
Double yikes.
“It would be an understatement to say that I fell apart for a while. I just... I wasn't sure what to do, how I could function with all sense of normalcy thrown out the window like that. It felt like it was everything I could do just to hold on to the fraying ends of my sanity, and even then I wasn't sure how long that was going to last. I was offered medication after spending some time under observation and receiving a diagnosis that I would rather not delve into, but that... that was even worse. To be terrified and confused at all times was one thing, but feeling completely hollow was another. The hallucinations were gone, but along with them went everything else. I had no drive, no desire, no life in me. I was free from the madness, but that freedom itself was pointless. I couldn't feel anything. My friends all came to support me, but even then I just didn't care. Sometimes I would sit and stare off into space thinking and feeling absolutely nothing for hours on end, catatonic to the rest of the world around me. In the end, I decided that the illusions, no matter how viscerally horrifying and painful, were preferable to total emptiness. I just~
Cutting her off, I stood up from my chair and crossed the short distance between us in a matter of seconds, wrapping my forelegs around her and pulling her into a tight hug.
“You can stop, Twilight,” I whispered, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I don't need to hear more if you don't want to share more.”
Returning the embrace, the lavender librarian nuzzled my cheek and replied, “No, it's alright. My story, well, it doesn't end on what one might call a happy note, but at the very least it's a happier one than the rest.”
Gently nudging me away, she placed a hoof beneath my chin and drew my eyes up to meet her own.
“As I said, the party isn't gone, but I have learned to... not ignore it, per say, but focus through it. If I concentrate hard enough, I can see the world as it was always meant to be, just as it was before, though everything still tends to bleed through my peripherals tinted somewhat... pink. It's actually kind of funny. The one who taught me to subdue the hallucinations was hardly somepony that I expected to ever seek aid from. Then again, all things considered, there really wasn't a better tutor for the job.”
“Who?” I found myself asking.
With a wistful expression, Twilight chuckled and answered, “When Pinkie Pie mentioned that she was leading a group that had once counted Discord amongst its ranks, I was precisely as frightened as I'm sure I seemed. I know him all too well, the things that he's capable of and gladly willing to do.”
“You're not saying wh~
“I am,” she stated, shaking her head. “Chaos filled my mind, so I sought out the King of Chaos to better understand it. We've built some sort of amiable relationship since, perhaps not friends and most definitely still enemies, but... something genuine all the same. In his own twisted way, he wants to help me, if only so I survive my insanity so he can destroy me on his own should he ever escape again.”
“That's... disturbing.”
“That's Discord.”
With a huff, the unicorn took another sip from her mug and leaned back in her chair, stretching out languidly.
A few minutes of stark, uncomfortable silence stretched by as the weight of the unforgettable story I had just been made privy to kicked open the doors to one of the houses in my head's long-term memory residential district.
Feeling as though Twilight had made good on her compromise far more than she needed to, I cleared my throat and broke the awkward quiet with, “The last time I saw Emily, she was trying to convince me to go to rehab and get clean.”
Turning her gaze back towards me, the purple pony nodded, motioning for me to keep going.
“The last thing I told her was to get out of my life and go die in a war.”
Aghast, Twilight's mouth dropped open ever-so-slightly, words clearly on the tip of her tongue but refusing to come out.
Instead, I said it for her.
“I got exactly what I asked for. She joined the military and was shipped off overseas. Not long after, a suicide bomber blew up the embassy that she was stationed at. She was only a few feet away from the center of the explosion.”
A lilac hoof made its way across the table to place itself atop mine.
“She'd wanted to join the armed forces for a long while before then, but given the circumstances of her death, it wasn't much of a stretch for me to blame myself. As a result, I dunno, I guess the guilt was just too much for me to handle, so my brain picked the easiest defense mechanism it could grasp at, selective amnesia, and blanked her from my memory entirely. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Or maybe it's the other way around? Either way, as I'm sure you found out from AJ and the others, Gilda and I took a trip inside my mind to figure out what it was I was forgetting and... I snapped.”
Taking a deep and steadying breath, I chugged the rest of my second cup of tea and shut my tired eyes.
After a few seconds trickled down the drain, I laid my head down on the table and let out a muffled, “Whoever that dream pony was, goddess or whatever, she was right.”
“Feeling a bit better having let all of that out?”
“Kinda. How about you?”
“I haven't told that story for a while. It was just as painful as every other time I told it, but yes, it helped a bit. I'm sorry if it was a bit much. I hope it doesn't stain my image any, I don't want to come off as a mare more fit for a psychosis ward.”
Lifting my dome long enough to flash my purple friend a grin, I snarked, “Don't worry about it. We can be crazy buddies together. It'll be our new thing.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she chuckled, warmth filling her tone despite the less-than-merry implications. “Now, how about five more cups of tea?”
“Drown me in it, yo.”
“Are you two alright?” queried a young voice from the library's main room. “I didn't just walk in on another one of those conversations again, did I?”
Glancing out a window to find the sun cresting the distant hills to herald the dawn, I shrugged and said, “Eh, you missed it, it's cool. We'll tell you when you're older. Or when we're older. Whichever comes first.”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Fifteen – Well, I Can't Say I Was Expecting THAT...
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
So, yeah, this one came out a lot more wordy than all of the rest. Sorry 'bout that! Even worse, I promised myself it would be a lot lighter on the EXPOSITION EXPOSITION EXPOSITION, but being the most dialogue-heavy chapter yet, it kind of worked out that way regardless. Again, my apologies for being terrible at beating my keyboard like it owes me money. Here's hoping the next chapter is a lot less... this.
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Fifteen – Well, I Can't Say I Was Expecting THAT!
~ ~ ~
This chapter is in canon with another story of mine, "A Mad Dash Through Time and Space" (featuring pretty sizable spoilers for that story in the form of Jeremy's Cliff Notes). I'd recommend that you read that in order to get this story's complete context, but whatevs, it isn't entirely necessary. You are the master of your own fate, read whatever you please!
~ ~ ~
Well, about a week had passed since my most recent mental breakdown, which either meant that I was back on the road to recovery or another one was right around the bend.
Less of a joke and more an observation I've made over the years.
At first I was a little afraid that my roaring rampage of apologies to everyone back on the farm was going to be awkward, but to my surprise a hearty round of hugs had put that fear soundly to bed. I spent about four hours out of that day sitting with Gilda under a tree, recounting to her all of the sordid tales I'd told Twilight shortly after taking the leap and leaving the confines of my room.
I told her about the frame of mind I'd been in after finally deciding to end my life, what it was like to think that giving up and giving in was better than soldiering on in spite of the pain. She choked up a bit when I made it to the act itself, setting the proper mood for suicide with music and pulling the noose tight around my neck. It didn't take her long to recover, but the words that followed still brokered no room for argument.
“Never ever do that again, dude,” she said through an unsteady glare as she wiped several lingering tears from her eyes.
Placing a hoof on her shoulder, I replied, “I won't.”
That seemed to satisfy her, though the small smile she gave me still broke my heart all the same.
Guess I can make ponies and griffons cry.
...Dammit.
~ ~ ~
Trudging down the stairwell, I locked my eyes onto the front door and blearily thought to myself, “It's 7:00 AM and I should still be sawing logs, what the fuck do you want?”
Opening the door, I found myself staring at a prismatic head standing somewhere around chin-level with me. Looking down, the sky blue pony that it was attached to flashed a winning grin and outstretched a hoof.
“Hey there, I hear you've been asking about me,” she stated, her voice scratchy with the still-developing sounds of adolescence. “The name's Rainbow Dash. You're Jeremy, right?”
Caught more than a little off-guard, I pressed my hoof to her own in the standard greeting and replied, “Uh, yeah. On both accounts actually. So you're~ No, no, wait, that doesn't make any sense. You're one of Twilight's friends, aren't you? I was under the impression that you were a little... you know... older. Twi said that you were in charge of the town's weather team and that's not the sort of job they'd just leave to a kid, right? Not to mention defending against shit like world domination?” About five seconds too late, I sputtered and amended, “No offense intended. I, uh, I'm sure you're still very good at stopping supervillains and all that jazz. Heh.”
“No offense taken,” Rainbow Dash replied, shrugging. “I was older a little while ago, but one adventure led to another and, well, it's kinda complicated. Care if I come inside?”
My brain already breaking under the weight of a confused concept like someone having been older than they currently were in the fucking past, I gave my head a vigorous shake to clear it and said, “Sure, why not?”
With that, the winged pony flashed me another grin and strutted inside.
Closing the door behind her, I motioned towards a small reading table near the Science Fiction section and asked, “Would you like some tea or something? You caught me a little earlier than I'm used to, so I think I'm gonna go with coffee myself.”
“Make that two coffees then,” Rainbow responded, sticking her tongue out and shaking her head animatedly. “Can't stand tea.”
“Guessing it's the bitterness?”
“Which brings me to my next request. Tons of cream and sugar!”
Already settling back into my comfort zone despite my guest's aforementioned chronological absurdity, I strode into the kitchen and chuckled, “Great minds think alike. Two cups of java, more sweetener than java, coming right up!”
Five minutes later, I trotted back into the library's main room with a pair of steaming mugs and an assortment of breakfast-style baked goods balanced precariously upon a platter held fast between my teeth. Setting it down, I glanced across the table at my colorful company and caught sight of a laugh as she just barely managed to suppress it.
“See something funny from over there, Slick?”
“Why'd you use your teeth for that? You've got a horn, don't you?”
“Yeeeeeah, about that, I'm still kind of new to the whole magic thing. I tried picking it up with my magic back at the stove, but all that did was nearly knock it all over and get coffee everywhere.”
“Need more practice, huh?”
Taking a sip from my cup and relishing in the heat that settled in my stomach, I replied, “Small items, one at a time, aren't so difficult. I got a lot of practice with Applejack at the farm, catching apples before they could hit the ground and get all bruised and shit. With enough time I should be able to manage the tougher things and, you know, not spill snacks all over the kitchen floor.”
Gulping down some of her own drink, Rainbow questioned, “Have you tried asking Twi for some pointers? She's, like, practically the king of magic... or queen... or princess.” Thumping a hoof against the side of her head, she rolled her eyes and concluded, “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know,” I smirked, poking at one of the treats on the platter before bringing it up to my mouth and taking a nibble. “She does seem to really know what she's talking about, but I can't help but be confused sometimes when she dips a little too far past what I'm able to comprehend, at least at the moment. Advanced magical theory and all that good stuff, it sends my head spinning every time. I think I'd be better off with a 'Magic for Dummies' guidebook or something.”
“Well, at the very least, if it interests you then I'm sure you'll get it down eventually. Twi'll see to that one way or another, trust me. There aren't many who know magic like she does and I'll bet bits to biscuits that she's been waiting for somepony to teach.”
“It is all pretty fascinating,” I admitted, nodding, “even the stuff that I don't understand quite yet.” With a grin, I added, “Give me enough time and I'll be juggling beverages without spilling a drop.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds after that, enjoying our coffee and, for me, more than a few croissants.
And then a piece of buttered toast.
And then a doughnut.
And then another croissant.
Back at home, my mornings usually consisted of Poptarts and tap water, so the change of edible pace had proved to be one of the easiest things for me to adjust to.
“So, couldn't help but to ask what was going on in the life of the most awesome pegasus in Equestria, eh?” Rainbow inquired, breaking the silence with a waggle of her eyebrows.
With a laugh, I shrugged and said, “Whatever gets your ego to sleep at night, hun. How about we leave it at 'I was mildly curious'?”
“Good enough for me,” the pegasus snickered. “G was right, you're a pretty cool guy.”
“Cool, huh?” I mused, rolling my eyes. “Eh, I could get used to that.” Mulling over my newfound status for a second, a thought suddenly occurred to me and I inquired, “So, Gilda asked you to come over hear around the crack of dawn just to tell me your story?”
Wincing, Rainbow Dash gulped down the coffee that she had nearly spat out and said, “Caught me, huh?”
“It would appear so.”
With a sigh, the prismatic pony expounded, “Okay, so yeah, there's more to it than that. G told me that you wanted to meet me, but she kind of had other motivations. She mentioned some things that she learned about you through some weird zebra magic and, well, I think she was worried. She was being really vague, but what I did hear sounded pretty... rough. I think she figured you might benefit from somepony to talk to. I guess she was under the impression that it couldn't be her, seeing as she'd seen it all firsthoof. Dunno how that makes sense though. That'd make her the best to talk to, wouldn't it?”
“Unless I was too afraid to actually talk about it at all and scared of it possibly being brought up by someone who already knew,” I replied with a neutral shrug.
Thumping herself on the forehead with her hoof again, Rainbow muttered, “I'll shut up now.”
“Don't worry about it, it's okay. I've sorted through things since then, even talked to Gilda about it a few days ago. Guessing you didn't get that memo?”
“Guess not,” she retorted, scratching her head in consternation. “Should'a known losing a couple days during that trip to Cloudsdale would come back to bite me on the flank. Well, glad I didn't cross any lines at least... uh, other than dragging you out of bed at sunrise. Heh, my bad.”
“Nah, it's fine. It still hurts to think about it, but hey, I'm not a hermit anymore and that's a good start. Can't go on bellyaching forever, can I? And as for waking me up, I've got some coffee in me now so I'll get over it pretty quick once the caffeine kicks in.”
“Well, while you're waiting for that to happen, hows about I regale you with a tale of awesome proportions?”
“Those are my favorite proportions!” I exclaimed in mock excitement.
“Hardy-har, wiseguy.”
~ ~ ~
So, your friend has been keeping a secret from you for a long time. A big secret. One of the biggest secrets that an everyday life can lead to keeping.
One day, your friend just can't take bottling it up any longer and they write to you a letter confessing their heart's desire.
It's you.
Immediately thereafter, a demigod from another realm pops out of fucking nowhere and kidnaps them. After engaging in the requisite daring rescue, you cradle your friend in your arms and tell them as they awaken from a magical slumber that the two of you cannot be together... not yet. Your friend sobs and asks why, begging you to change your mind. The sad truth, however, is that you do return their love in full, but that circumstance is about to return you to time in which you couldn't. You see, in order to defeat the rogue god that had stolen them away, you absorbed a great power, the essence of time itself. Not yours to keep, that time will soon be leaving you. Once it is gone, you will be made young again, your clock wound back to the yesteryears of childhood.
Tearfully, you tell your friend... your much-more-than-a-friend, that if they can hold out for just a little bit longer their wish can come true.
They of course assure you that they could wait forever and a day.
BAM, then you change.
…
…
…
Now, these ponies have broken my heart a few times already. Twilight with how she's gone out of her way to help me. Gilda with how she overcame her past failings. Twilight, again, with the unbelievable amount of shit she's had happen to her.
But this... this took the cake.
You know, some people think that they've got some truly painful stories, and really, there's no reason why our almost blandly ordinary John Smiths and Jane Does can't be put through the ringer and made to suffer too, right?
Still, every once in a while we all make the mistake of assuming that our angst is somehow greater and angstier than that of those around us, all without ever really taking the time out of our busy schedules to actually consider that the aforementioned “those around us” might actually lead harder and more challenging lives than we've ever even dreamed of.
You know what I mean.
“Oh no, I stepped in a rain puddle while wearing my good shoes, now my day is ruined!”
“Egad, my favorite shirt is still in the wash, how could anything possibly get any worse?”
“For the love of God, I can't believe they're not playing my favorite song while I'm driving to work! It's such a slow fucking Tuesday, I need something good to come through the speakers to keep me from driving straight into the nearest brick wall!” ...followed of course by a smiley emoticon in a Twitter post that nobody will ever read.
The point being, Christ on a friggin' stick, it's one thing to have a friend stolen from you, and by a psychotic deity at that, but for it to happen right after said friend finally found the strength to lay their heart bare for you?
That's just...
I have no words.
I think I... yeah, I think I'm gonna need a moment.
~ ~ ~
I sat there staring into my coffee, the drink having long since cooled to room temperature.
I didn't dare look up. If I locked eyes with her, I was going to cry, and I had a strong hunch that pity wasn't something Rainbow Dash often sought comfort in.
“Jeremy,” the pegasus eventually called out.
I continued the staring contest with my cup. I think the cup was winning.
“Jeremy,” she repeated, louder this time.
My tail flicked, but otherwise I didn't budge an inch. KEEP STARING.
Reaching across the table, Rainbow put a hoof beneath my chin and raised it manually.
Cheater...
“Take a chill pill,” she quietly commanded, releasing me a moment later and leaning back into her seat.
Swallowing the knot that had formed in my throat, I did as I was told.
“Okay,” she continued, “you cool?”
Nodding my head slowly, I felt my right eye twitch as I stammered, “C-cooler than the frozen reaches of deep space.”
“Alright, then just bare with me for a minute,” the prismatic pony stated, her smile reassuring, “because I know how all of that must have sounded. But believe me when I say this, it's not all bad. It really is pretty cool being a kid again. I mean, sure, there are times when it gets to me and I... I sort of breakdown knowing that we still have longer to wait. Years to wait.”
I watched as her smile faltered, but only for a second. If I'd have blinked, I would have missed it.
A moment later, though, and it was back in full force.
“But this isn't a chance that many get, is it? It's not like I felt old before, I was a young mare anyway, but it's really fun to have the freedom to just run around and play again. For no reason other than just wanting too, spur of the moment, running outside on a sunny day and playing.”
Taken aback, I turned my suddenly unfocused gaze to the middle distance as Rainbow's words sank in.
Being a child again. No day-job to grind through or any other responsibilities to tie you down, just the promise of fun.
Fun...
After a few seconds of deliberation, I cracked under the pressure of the prismatic pony's infectious grin and said, “I'll admit, that does sound pretty awesome. I'd be outside playing dodgeball every day forever.”
Her smile widening, Rainbow Dash cheered, “Now you're getting it! And Pinkie has to be the best pony on the planet to have around for this kind of second chance.”
“She does seem pretty fun-oriented,” I concurred, remembering well the aura of excitement that the pink pony seemed to radiate at all times. “Can't say I've seen her yet when she wasn't smiling her head off or vibrating with barely-controlled energy.”
“And she doesn't give two bucks about the no dessert before bedtime rule!”
“I'll bet she actively breaks it beyond repair.”
Winking, Rainbow smirked, “You know it.”
After a minute of shared laughter, I had an epiphany; the sort of epiphany that only a big kid could have.
Rainbow Dash, you lucky little pony~
“You know, I might just have something upstairs that'd be great for someone your age,” I said as I rose from my seat and stretched my neck. “A little hand-held game that I played all the time during clas~ I mean, recess at school.”
“Oh?”
“Yep, and you're in luck. Both it and the power chord used to charge it survived the trip here. Wanna take a look?”
“Sure, sounds pretty neat.”
“Me and about a jillion other kids seemed to think so. It's called a Gameboy. While fingers, er, claws might help for some of the harder games, I think I have a couple here that require more strategy than button timing. Pokemon was already a favorite from that category.”
“Pokewhat?” Rainbow Dash asked, tilting her head as she stood to follow me up the stairwell.
“Pokemon. You catch monsters and make them fight each oth~
“You had me sold at the monsters fighting bit,” she interrupted, jabbing me in the shoulder.
Grinning, I laughed, “Pretty much my exact reaction.”
As we reached the door to my room, I outstretched a hoof to turn the knob and a moment later retracted it. Thinking back on our conversation right after I finished preparing our tray of snacks, I instead brought up my focus and lit my horn. After several seconds spent giving myself a migraine, the door clicked and cracked open. Letting out a sigh of relief, I wiped away the sheen of sweat that had formed on my brow.
Turning her head to look me in the eyes, Rainbow Dash said, “That looked like it took a lot.”
“Hey, at least I did it!” I countered, scowling indignantly.
Lifting a hoof in defense, she replied, “I was just commenting. Like you said before, no offense intended, okay? You're totally right, you did do it, and that's a pretty cool feat. And from what I know, all that stuff that G told me, you actually weren't a pony before, right?”
“Well... yeah.”
“Then think about it. We're getting along, having fun, and you're apparently about to give me something pretty nifty. I'm not making fun of you. That would be... uh... what's it called, crass? I'm just sayi~
“You're just saying that it legitimately looked like it took a lot out of me,” I finished, smirking.
Scuffing at the floor with her hoof, Rainbow frowned and said, “Yeah. Look, I'm not an egghead like Twilight. She's... she's good with words and stuff. I'm not so much. I didn't mean to insult you or anything. I'm kind of stupid like tha~
Cutting her off once more, I pressed a hoof to the rainbow pony's lips and firmly stated, “First off, don't call yourself stupid. That's selling yourself pretty fucking short. You've saved the entire world more than once. Besides, only I'm allowed to be a hypocrite and do that. Second off, you parroted me, so now I'm going to parrot you. Calm down and take a chill pill, okay? I get it, you didn't mean any harm.”
With an expression more bashful than any I've seen out of her yet, Rainbow Dash met my eyes and simply said, “Alright.”
“Great!” I exclaimed, throwing the now-cracked door fully open with my decidedly non-magical shoulder. “Now let's find you something more fitting for a filly your age!”
Grimacing, the adolescent pegasus said, “Now you're the one stepping on hooves.”
“Hey, you'll only be angry until you start playing the game.”
“What, is it really that fun?”
“Had me hooked the moment I turned it on.”
Turning to face the pile that made up all that remained of my earthly belongings, I began digging through it in search of the promised conqueror of human children.
Well, human children that lived in first world countries anyway.
…
So sue me, I was privileged.
“Yeah, here, take it,” I said as I finally found the small, plastic rectangle that had dominated a great majority of my childhood.
Holding out a hoof to grasp it... the plausibility of such an action having long since gone ignored by me after doing much the same many times myself, Rainbow eyed the device curiously, almost as though I'd handed her a logic puzzle as opposed to what essentially amounted to a toy.
“This is it? Um... what is it?”
Settling myself into what I'd come to know as “Twilight Mode”, I sat down and explained, “It's a video game. It's powered by a rechargeable battery, something I'm guessing isn't around in this world quite yet. The battery produces the electricity necessary to power the device, which itself allows you to play the game. See that little switch at the top? Click that and it turns on. Try it out.”
With an expectedly dubious expression, the former weathermare did as she was told and turned the Gameboy on.
Her expression immediately thereafter, right as the screen lit up, was one of the most priceless things I have ever seen.
“It's like a tiny TV,” she whispered in quiet awe.
“Wait, you guys have TVs?”
“Huh? What's that supposed to mean? Of course we have TVs.”
Scratching the back of my head in embarrassment, having apparently insulted their technological advancement (c'mon, they've got televisions but no batteries?), I quickly said, “Nothing, nothing. Just... uh... thinking out loud.”
“Thinking about what?” she deadpanned.
“Thinking that...” I stalled, turning to face my giant mound of stuff in search of an escape route. “... that, uh... that, man, am I ever thirsty!”
Rushing over to the first thing that I laid my eyes on, I unburied a partially hidden case of one of the most ludicrous energy drinks ever concocted by the fine men and women back on Earth.
Cocaine Energy Drink.
And yes, I'm aware that, given my history, it was perhaps the single most inappropriate beverage that I could drink outside of maybe actual booze.
Apparently, Rainbow Dash agreed.
“Cocaine!” she squealed, her young voice cracking in an adorable way and immediately earning a fierce blush from its owner.
Cocking my head to the side, I puzzled, “Wait, you guys have real cocaine here too? That's... pretty goddamn disconcerting. Man, I wonder if there's a sleazy pony in the back of a dive bar somewhere snorting it off of a switchblade right now. It'd be, I dunno... sad, hilarious, and honestly, kind of cute all at the same time.”
“Are you even paying attention! Gilda told me all about the stuff you did, remember? You can't drink that!”
Rolling my eyes, I trotted back over to the worried pegasus and plopped down beside her.
Softly, I gave her my most earnest smile and explained, “Settle down, kid, it's just a name, alright? It would be, like, five different kinds of illegal to sell a drink with street-snow in it back where I'm from. It has a Hell of a lot of caffeine and sugar in it, but that's about it.”
Steadily, I watched as the little blue filly slowed down and regained her cool.
Giving the can that I was holding a couple studious glances, she then asked, “Okay, okay, I got a little carried away there, huh?”
“Just a little,” I laughed in reply, still smiling. “Your heart was in the right place though, so thanks for that.”
“No prob.”
“Really, I was only grabbing this to switch topics after insinuating that Equestria hadn't yet invented the television, so I think I'll apologize as well. To be honest, it's still a little too early to dive into one of these. I like the taste, kind of like getting mauled by a bear made entirely out of cinnamon, but still, I've already had some coffee so I think I'll wait a few hours before introducing a whole bag of granulated sugar to my system on top of that.”
“Cinnamon?” Rainbow Dash piqued, her ears perking forward. “I like cinnamon. It's the only way you can make something sweet and spicy at the same time and still make it good... well, unless you're asking Pinkie.”
“Oh?” I questioned back.
“Yeah, she's got a thing for hot sauce on her cupcakes. Still can't handle liquid rainbow though.”
Luckily for me, I managed to suppress my brain's desire to pursue the concept of a fucking liquid rainbow further and instead said, “Well, want to try it? I can't in good conscious give you the whole can, what with how old you are now. Again, no offense, but it really is a lot of sugar.”
“I get the message,” Rainbow replied with a grin, “and sure, I'd like to try some. Already pretty curious.”
With that decision made, I turned my focus back to the can that I was holding and quickly ran into a problem.
No fingers.
…
Well, fuck, how the Hell was I going to open it then? Hadn't thought of that.
Staring long and hard at the beverage for a moment, I eventually decided to give it a go anyway. After all, I've held things with these impossible hooves more than a few times already, so who knows, maybe I'd get lucky. With that in mind, I stuck my tongue out in deep concentration and attempted to get the edge of my hoof under the tab. After failing miserably, I bit down on my tongue and tried again.
And failed again.
Okay then, one more attempt.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand one more failure.
My frustration mounting, I once again switched to my magic and summoned an unstable aura of gray energy around the length of my horn... only to immediately drop that idea seconds later in favor of not potentially having the drink explode violently in my face like some kind of carbonated time bomb.
Left with no other options, I felt a blush burn its way across my cheeks as I cast my eyes down and silently passed the can over to Rainbow Dash.
Smirking, she proceeded to defy all logic as she succeeded where I had repeatedly failed, popping the thing open with her digit-less hoof in one swift motion.
I scowled as she passed it back to me, eying my own hooves and quietly pondering to myself how in God's name I was supposed to learn how to use them in ways that, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't be possible.
“Do all ponies possess some kind of inherent magic or something?” I grumbled.
Looking perplexed, Rainbow answered, “Well, yeah. Pegasi can walk on clouds and earth ponies are all super tough and stuff, like AJ. Then there's unicorns, which kind of goes without saying.”
Shifting my gaze back and forth between the fizzing drink and my present company, I remarked, “Fantastic, so not only do I have to learn all of that complicated horn crap, but also the arcane art of operating shit that should require hands without actually having hands too. And to think, I thought I'd figured that one out already. With my luck there'll be a test on Monday, no notes allowed.”
“Not really sure what you're talking about right there, but whatever,” the colorful pegasus giggled, shaking her head. “Drink time now?”
Heaving a sigh, I breathed in the heavy scent of cinnamon, as well as what was probably ginger... probably, and answered, “Yeah, yeah, drink time now. Here's to ya, kid.”
With a toast, I tipped the can back and was instantly struck by the Greek god, Zeus, as he threw a spicy lightning bolt right into the back of my woefully unsuspecting throat.
Hacking up a storm, I screwed my eyes shut and wheezed out a ragged, “Smoother th-than silk.”
Okay, so maybe pony-me can't handle it quite like human-me could.
Snickering at my incredibly manly display, Rainbow speedily swiped the can from me and... did the exact same thing.
Somewhere deep inside, the evil part of me enjoyed her suffering.
“What's wrong, the toughest, most awesome pegasus in the world can't handle a little energy drink?” I laughed upon finally regaining proper control over my lungs.
“Energy,” she hacked, her eyes bugging out, “is not the word I would use.”
Nodding, I conceded, “The fact that we just slammed it back probably didn't do us any favors either. Here, let me give it another go... a slower, much more careful go.”
More than happy to watch me try again in her place, Rainbow Dash took several steadying breaths before calmly passing the can back to me. Lifting it to my mouth, I decided to start off with the world's smallest ever sip just to make sure that the problem wasn't something inherently pony-related. Immediately, the spicy flavor coated my tongue. This time, however, my inflamed throat remained for the most part unscathed. Rather, I was met with the same enjoyable fizzing sensation that I remembered.
For a reference, imagine a mouthful of pop rocks, Big Red, and just a pinch of slap-to-the-face.
“Ha, I thought so!” I cheered enthusiastically, relishing in the cinnamon kick that had only moments before overpowered me. “See, it's not too much, we were just idiots about it.”
“Kind of sad that you did it first though,” the pegasus smirked. “You're supposed to be used to it, right?”
“Well, yeah, but that's also going off of the assumption that I don't do boneheaded things on a daily basis. You should see me cough after doing a shot. It's not like I don't know that it's going to burn if I take it down too fast, but for whatever reason I do it every single time anyway.”
“Heh, Twi's the same way. She's gotta be one of the smartest ponies I've ever met, but I don't think she'll ever quite get a handle on drinking.”
“Is she a lightweight too?”
“An even bigger one than Fluttershy.”
With a devious grin, I waved a hoof and said, “Right now I'd imagine that you probably have both of them beat in regards to that.”
“Not fair!” she countered, grimacing. “I can't help it if I'm, like, 20 pounds lighter all of a sudden!”
“Besides, children your age really shouldn't be drinking anyway.”
“Oh, you're asking for it.”
“What'cha gonna do, throw a tantrum?”
“Yeah, I'll throw a great big tantrum right into the back of your head, smart guy.”
For all of the effort that she was putting into her frown, the moment that Rainbow and I locked eyes she couldn't help but to join in on my riotous laughter. For the next several minutes we simply passed our Cocaine back and forth, cracking jokes and just generally enjoying each others' company.
Eventually, as the can emptied (a tactical majority on my part), a thought struck me.
“You know, for a while now I've been sort of wondering what I'm going to do with myself once Twilight finally deems me fit for society,” I commented, staring out through the window at the rising sun.
“Being deemed fit for society is overrated,” Rainbow smirked, flicking her mane and striking a victorious pose. “Be a rebel, it's way more fun.”
“But I already tried that! I was the wrong kind of rebel!” I laughed.
“Then... uh... be the right kind?”
“I'll be sure to make a note of that, hun.”
Shaking my head, I grinned and drifted my gaze over to my disorganized pile of odds and ends.
“I've got a few more things here that could be worth salvaging, but I'd actually have to literally salvage them,” I explained. “My television and 360 made it out fine... somehow, but most of the rest got pretty banged-up. I know a thing or two about working on some of it, so with a bit of luck I might be able to save a few things. Who knows, maybe you guys are looking at a few technological advancements in the near future?”
“Without really knowing what it is you're fixing or working on, I get the gist that some of this stuff is pretty advanced?” the prismatic pegasus queried.
“Sort of, but it's all kind of useless entertainment shit,” I replied, standing up and trotting over to the pile. “A lot of it needs to work in conjunction with other things that I don't have here with me. Still, a few years of your smartest pony techies taking it all apart could see that those things get invented too. That's the magic of reverse-engineering.”
Smiling, Rainbow Dash stood to join me and stated, “Then I'd say you've been worrying for nothing.”
“What?” I questioned, confused.
“You said you were wondering what to do with yourself after Twi gives you your clean bill of heath, remember?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, while I didn't get the gist of everything that you just said, it sounds to me like you've already got a good idea on how to put yourself to work,” she said, placing a hoof on my shoulder. “Developing new whatever-they-ares and whatnot, new technology; that all sounds pretty impressive to me.”
“I suppose so,” I responded, a fresh blush steadily creeping across my cheeks.
“And you can do it, right?” the pony teen continued.
“Maybe once I get a grip on this whole 'magic' thing, yeah.”
“Then drop the frown already and be happy!”
Stunned, I turned to face her and stammered, “W-what, just like that?”
With a confident nod, Rainbow Dash answered, “Just like that.”
For an unknown amount of time, my hooves remained glued to the ground as the simple strength of those words gradually grew on me.
Don't be upset, just be happy.
…
My God, have I really been this big a dumbass my entire life?
Pulling me out of my own thoughts before I could scour them much deeper, Rainbow turned her eyes to the brightening horizon as well and announced, “As much as I'd like to watch you reach enlightenment, Pinkie's going to be waking up in an hour or so to open the bakery.”
“Right, right,” I said, clearing my head enough to register that it was time for my company to depart. “Don't forget to take the Gameboy with you. It's yours, yo.”
“But I don't really have anything to give you in return for it,” the pegasus retorted, her expression turning to one of guilt.
Waving such a thought off, I assured her, “Bah, if you get a few good laughs out of it, that's payment enough.”
“But~
“No buts,” I interjected, giving the young pony a noogie for good measure, “just have fun with it, alright?”
Pulling herself away and shaking her mane, Rainbow Dash chuckled, “Alright, alright, but I promise, I'll find a way to pay you back!”
“Whatever you decide to do, I'm sure it'll be fine,” I said with a smile.
What came next, however, wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting.
It seems the word “fine” can be defined very, very differently from person to person.
“No worries, I'll think of something awesome! You're always cooped up in here, maybe I can find you a date or something! That'll drag you out of your dumps for sure!”
And with that, the colorful pegasus trotted out of the room, leaving me all by my lonesome to confront the resulting hurricane of images swirling around inside my head.
A date.
A date with a pony.
Um...
A sudden twinge of pain behind my eyes brought my hoof up to my forehead, a powerful headache no doubt well on its way.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Sixteen – Introducing Prince Shining Armor...
~ ~ ~
“So, are there any other ways I can pad this chapter out even further?” I asked my computer screen as I sipped my Bloody Mary.
Scowling, Jeremy turned his head away from me and growled, “I'm still not talking to you.”
“Is this about that whole 'Sister Thing' still?” I sighed.
“What the fuck do you think?” he snapped back, pointing an accusing hoof at me. “You already explained in the first goddamn chapter that my life pretty much fell apart after high school, you didn't have to kill her too!”
“Wow, I haven't really noticed it up until now, but you sure swear a lot.”
“What the fuck do you mean you haven't noticed it, you fucking write everything I say!”
Glancing from side to side for a moment, I shrugged and said, “I guess I asked for that, didn't I?”
“Yeah, ya did. Now go on, keep playing the prude and pretending like you don't swear like a sailor too.”
Feeling a cold sweat coming on, I took another sip from my drink and nervously asked, “Would... saying that I'm sorry help any?”
Getting up from his until now completely unmentioned seat, Jeremy strode over to me and placed a hoof on my shoulder.
Calmly and eerily quietly, he answered, “Funny thing about that. Sorry is just a word. Kind of like murder is just a word.”
Gulping, I leaned back and stammered, “How about really, really, really sorry?”
Asdftlkgiueybro Jeremy kills me because I'm an asshole.
It's pretty weird being dead. Hmm... maybe I can go and join the Ghost Wonderbolts.
Joseph Raszagal, up, over, across, around, up again, and away!
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
I've been waiting and waiting and waiting to reintroduce Rainbow Dash to the Equestria B universe, and... I'm still not pleased with the outcome. Dunno why, but it just doesn't feel right with me. She was so pivotal to the plot of “A Mad Dash Through Time and Space” and the way I ended it required a really awkward introduction for her to this story. That, and, all things considered, this chapter could have just as easily been named something as mundane as “Jeremy and Rainbow Dash Hang Out”. I am, however, loving how much I've been abusing Jeremy's pile of random Earth stuff in order to introduce other things. As for how a majority of these things survived the portal... I'm never going to explain that. He got lucky. Really, really lucky.
So yeah, whatever.
In other news, see if you can spot the TV Tropes style Checkov's Gun for future stories! Protip: It's really obvious because I'm really dumb.
Beyond all of that, thanks for reading and look forward to future chapters, everypony! Joseph Raszagal, over and out.
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Sixteen – Introducing Prince Shining Armor
~ ~ ~
As much as Rainbow Dash and I initially hit it off, I can't help but think that her attempts to set me up on a date were less of a repayment for the Gameboy I'd given her and more of a free form of entertainment for her to point and laugh at. Admittedly, I wasn't really helping the situation any, having all the social grace of an earthquake trapped in pony form, but still, she could have at least checked in with me a couple of times before just sending over a new bachelorette every other Thursday.
I mean, fuck, one of 'em was even Gilda.
…
Okay, to be honest, that one was actually a little funny. She looked a billion times more nervous than I must have at the time and it didn't take her long to cook up an exit strategy so she could get the Hell out of Dodge. I had a hunch that she liked me, what with all the stammering that I had to assume wasn't common in a tough girl's vocabulary, but... you know...
I used to be a human.
She's a griffon.
All the others are friggin' ponies.
Stuck here or not, you can't really blame me for being a tad apprehensive about the whole romancing business, right?
Pinkie Pie was apparently a little saddened that my date with Gilda hadn't worked out; said she “ships” us, whatever that means. Twilight just told me it was Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie and that I should leave it at that. Fearing an oncoming headache, I just shut up and took her advice.
But back to romancing~
I briefly considered trying to worm my way out of this whole mess by telling Rainbow that I'm gay, but really, would that have solved anything? I'd have just ended up answering the door for some hopeful-looking stallions instead of mares.
Instead, I manned-up and told her the truth, backed by Twilight no less, that the idea of trying to start a relationship was still too alien for me at the moment and that I needed a bit more time to adjust to the overall “culture shock”, so to speak. Rainbow Dash took this news surprisingly well, though I still saw a glimmer in her eyes as she flew away, gears still grinding beneath that prismatic mop of hers and planning out yet more romantic social interaction for me to fail spectacularly at.
But whatever, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Or I'll burn it.
Or... shit, I don't know, insert additional bridge metaphor here.
~ ~ ~
As I sat across from Twilight at the kitchen table and munched on some hay fries, a delicacy that still surprised me in terms of its deliciousness, the purple pony's expression conveyed a mixture of concern and confusion.
“So, even knowing that I won't be able to give you the full tour, you'd still like to accompany me?” she questioned.
Nodding, I replied, “Well, given that the only other times I've ever been to Canterlot have been while I was still midway through heroin remission, I think I sort of owe it to them to visit and make amends for that terrible first impression.”
“Granted,” she replied, mulling over something else unspoken as she sipped her coffee.
“Besides, you said your brother was going to be waiting for you there at the station, right?” I continued, smiling. “Maybe while you're busy with your official business, whatever that entails, I can chill with him.”
“As far as I'm aware, he is off-duty all day today,” Twilight admitted, “and he has expressed interest in meeting you.”
“Really?”
“Suffice to say, I've mentioned you in a few of my letters.”
“Owch.”
“Nothing too damning, Jeremy, I promise,” she giggled, shaking her head. “He knows that you've been taking something of an extended sabbatical, recovering from an undisclosed illness.”
“Not too far from the truth,” I smirked wryly. “Trying to save what little reputation I might have?”
Standing from her place at the table, Twilight crossed the small distance between us and placed a hoof on my shoulder.
“You've been doing a fine job of that already. I'm not sure that hard work and recovery necessarily go hoof-in-hoof, but judging by what Applejack has told me you've been a great help around the farm. Give yourself more credit.”
“Hah, not a chance! Self-deprecation is my second language right after sarcasm!”
~ ~ ~
“Honestly, I'm glad there's a train,” I said as I stared out through the window, watching the magical land of talking horses pass me by. “I'd hate to have to hike all the way up Mount Sonuvabitch's summit on a full stomach.”
“You just have to find something to complain about, don't you?” Twilight chuckled.
“Eh, it passes the time.”
Shaking her head at me, the purple unicorn asked, “Just to clarify, you really don't mind that I won't be around today?”
“Nah, it's cool. While you're out getting your shit done, I figure I'll pop in on Celestia and see how she's doing. It's kind of weird, you couldn't just walk up to the leader of the free world back where I'm from, just to say hi or something. There's, like, at least a hundred other guys you'd have to talk to first before you ever even got close to the Prez. Shit, even then you'd probably only get a few minutes with him. Or her. Actually, for all I know the President really could be a her by now; time might not move at the same speed in this world as it did in mine. What's your watch say?”
By way of reply, Twilight simple rolled her eyes and ignored most of the latter half of my ramble.
“To be fair, you're making it sound a lot easier than it actually is... with the exception of the chronological discrepancies, of course. But still, just so you know, there is still protocol to be followed if you'd like an audience with the Princess.”
“Well, yeah, but I'll be with the Captain of the Guard too, right? Should be a cakewalk.”
“Just try not to make a scene, alright?”
The sound of my one-hundred percent genuine promise to keep out of trouble was drowned out by the metallic screech of the train's breaks bringing us to a slow stop. With a flash of magic, Twilight levitated her saddlebags onto her back while I monkied around with my own, trying and failing several times to lift them with my slate gray aura until finally succeeding (well, okay, Twi helped me a bit... shut up). A loud hiss of steam punctuated the grating metal-on-metal squeal as the doors slid open, revealing a tall stallion clad in golden armor. Before I could get a single word in, however, a lavender blur rushed by me and tackled said stallion to the ground.
“Twiley!” the alabaster stallion exclaimed as he recovered from getting the wind knocked out of him. Reaching up with a hoof, he ruffled the librarian's mane.
Smiling, I watched the two siblings have their little moment from my place in the doorway.
Have I mentioned before how adorable these fucking ponies can be?
“Shining!” she replied, nuzzling his cheek. “I really wish I could stay and catch up, but duty calls. Do you mind showing my friend around town and keeping him company until I get back?”
“Not at all,” the stallion answered as he rose to his hooves and dusted himself off. “I know how busy you can be. Just try not to overwork yourself, alright? Yes, that's asking you to do the impossible, but stil~
Cutting him off, Twilight immediately dashed away, exiting the station platform and darting off into the hustle and bustle of Equestria's capital.
Caught off-guard by the breakneck speed of the interaction I'd just witnessed, I failed to notice as the white stallion trotted up to me and outstretched his hoof.
“That's my little sis for you, ever the hard worker,” he smirked as he removed his helmet and flipped his two-tone blue mane to the side. “So, you must be the infamous Jeremy Robin.”
Shaking my head to regain my focus, I grinned sheepishly, unsure as to whether or not this infamy was something I should be too proud of.
Because... I mean, c'mon, I was already gaining a name around Ponyville as the guy who is perpetually in the process of losing his mental shit. Kinda embarrassing.
Thumping my hoof against his own, I nervously shuffled back and forth where I stood and said, “The one and the same.”
“Excellent, but hey, easy down there,” the unicorn retorted, smiling earnestly. I guess I must have been broadcasting my anxiety pretty clearly. “I don't mean any harm. The name's Shining Armor, I'm Twilight's older brother. She's told me a lot about you over these past few months.”
To say that the gears in my head had begun turning at that moment would be an understatement. They span so fast that a cog flew out and smacked another out of alignment.
I moved faster than even I knew I could. I hugged the guy right then and there, in much the same tackling fashion as his sister had just done.
“H-hey, what's this for?” he sputtered, surprised.
Stepping away with a blush, I looked off to the side and said, “Twilight's been taking care of me for a long time now, you know that, right?”
Shining Armor nodded.
“Well, as I got to know her, she started to mean more and more to me. I was going through... a rough patch. A really rough patch. You've heard bits and pieces of it, but it's... complicated. I hadn't had a good friend in a long time. I didn't really think much of friendship at all. I kind of thought of it as a joke. But then Twilight came along and showed me how wrong I was. She became my first friend in years. My best friend.”
Scratching at my head, feeling like I might be rambling yet again, I waved a hoof and continued, “Anyway, as she got me to open up and talk more and more about myself, I sometimes got her to do the same. I learned things about her. One of those things was just how much she cares about you. You mean the world to her, dude, you really do. It killed me when I found out that she'd been skipping her monthly picnics with you in order to continue taking care of my stupid ass. I just... it's going to sound weird, but I just wanted to thank you for being there for her. She means a lot to me, you know? The fact that I'm meeting her brother right now, one of the people... er... ponies who kept her strong means a lot to me. I... I sound like a gigantic dork right now, don't I?”
With a look of comprehension in his eyes, the white unicorn placed a hoof on my shoulder (an act that I obviously appeared to inadvertently warrant by this point) and stated, “I get what you're saying. And hey, I'm sorry that I couldn't see Twilight over the past couple of months too. It's been hard and, yes, we've been drifting apart. But that happens when great distances are involved and I'd like to think that we've been coping with it very well all the same. Besides, judging by what she's told me about you in her letters, I can't say that there's any hard feelings involved. It sounds like she's found herself another great friend in you. My sister, being who she is, hasn't always been the best at forming bonds with others. These days, she's gotten better about it, but that doesn't mean I'm any less thrilled when I hear she's found another.”
“Really?” I asked, taken aback.
Smiling, Shining Armor replied, “Absolutely. I've heard some things... some troubling things, to be sure. I still don't think she's given me the full picture, but she gave me enough.”
“Yeah, I... Alright, I'm gonna blurt this out as fast as possible, so just try and keep up. I mean, it's not like I'm a pussy or anything or I'm afraid to open the necessary can of beans, so don't go getting the wrong idea or anything, it's just still a little hard to talk abou~
Stuffing his hoof in my mouth, the guard captain nodded slowly and stated, “I'll tell you this one more time before I fall back into my military mindset and start ordering you to do laps around the palace to help burn off some of that excess nervous energy. Calm down. You can tell me at whatever pace you are most comfortable with. I won't judge you.”
Falling silent for a moment, I felt my rear legs give out beneath me. Involuntarily, I sat down right where I had been standing.
…
Alright, so this old chestnut. Here goes~
“I tried to kill myself,” I eventually managed, my tone as stoic as I could muster. “It was a dark time. I'm gonna repeat myself from earlier. A really dark time. Celestia intervened and brought me to Equestria, then she and Twilight made the decision to move me to Ponyville so I could learn the magic of friendship and all that jazz. Some time went by, I was recovering from an addiction to narcotics that I would really, really like to believe don't exist in this world, and I honestly thought that I was getting better. Then I took a jog inside my own brain and found out some things that I'd forced myself to forget... my sister dying, which I blamed myself for. There was some crying and I pretty much started questioning whether or not I was really worth saving; wondering if I should still go through with what I'd originally planned. But then a pony from a video game that shouldn't exist told me to calm the fuck down and talk to Twilight about it all.” Exhaling sharply, I found the strength to stand back up and added, “It's alright, I don't mind getting it out of the way. Well... I'm trying not to mind. It hurts, but it's not your fault. You're Twi's brother and she's my friend. I'd like to be your friend too and, at the end of the day, real friendship is built upon a sense of trust. I'd rather not lie to you... even if it's painful.”
Taking a step back, Shining Armor licked his lips once before saying, “And in a nice, short summary too. Uh... wow.”
In his defense, more or less the correct response.
“I like to be concise,” I replied, laughing dryly. “Anyway, as you were saying?”
All of a sudden, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my chest, which doesn't really make a ton of sense due to the consistent downward direction of gravity, but whatever.
I felt better after telling Twilight, so it only makes sense that I'd feel better after letting the cat out of the bag again, right? It's the act of getting those first few words out of the way and then letting the whole avalanche tumble down that was the hard part. I just needed to start. The finish would practically wrap itself up all on its own.
“Well, uh,” Shining picked back up, shrugging, “Twilight's told me all about you. Perhaps not all of that, but still enough to give me a good impression.”
A good impression? I'm still not entirely sure I'm capable of those, but okay.
“And... you still think Twilight's made a good friend in me?” I asked.
“You were at your worst for a while after you first arrived,” the stallion admitted, casting his eyes upward towards the brilliant blue sky above us, “but I've heard from both Twilight and the Princess how you can be when you're at your best. Hard working, quick witted, and loyal. I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm assuming that you'll want to speak with Princess Celestia sometime today, right?”
“Damn, am I really that obvious?” I chuckled, stamping a hoof in mock-frustration. “I was literally just talking to Twilight about that.”
“If it's any consolation, it's not that you're being obvious,” Shining retorted, “it's just clear that she helped you and it's written all over your face how much you actually appreciate it.”
“I'm not dead,” I whispered, mostly to myself.
I'm... not dead.
Sometimes you just have to remind yourself of all that you've got, even if it isn't much.
Taking a moment to look Shining Armor square in the eyes, I realized that, in fact, I had quite a fucking lot for a formerly suicidal junkie.
Quite a fucking lot indeed.
“Let's go pop in on the Princess,” I said with a smile, rolling my shoulders and stretching myself out. “I'm not sure if I've said it to her already or not, but there's always room for more than one 'thank you' if I have.”
~ ~ ~
A walk to the palace just wouldn't be complete without a random conversation, so long as I'm involved anyway.
Therefore~
“And I'm telling you, you just don't understand,” I argued, huffing as we approached a pair of massive golden doors. “You're a pony. You guys don't have cars... which could easily be just as much of a good thing as it could be a bad. You'd have more mobility, but unless you went totally electric it would come at the cost your environment. A give and take, I guess. Still, when I was a kid, one of the only things that mattered in the 90s was trying to decide which was cooler: the Ferrari Boxer or the Lamborghini Countach. Kind of old models at the time, but whatever. Both were absolutely and undeniably awesome, but the real question was which was more awesome. For little boys with dreams of driving a supremely badass car, it was a big deal, dude.”
Shaking his head, Shining Armor rebuked, “We have carriages, which are comparable to what you're talking about... I think. I can't say that the actual make or model has ever sparked an intense debate though.”
“And that's just it!” I exclaimed, pumping a hoof into the air for emphasis. “You should! You should totally have a carriage that's cooler than the rest! Not only does it 'spark' a drive in all other carriage makers to try and compete by putting out their own awesome models, but at the very least you'll have one that's truly the bee's knees, right?”
“To be honest, I always found Princess Luna's carriage to be pretty cool.”
“Haven't seen it.”
“You should then.”
“What's it look like?”
“Well, for one, it's pulled by her own personal Night Guard.”
“Let me guess, they have bat wings.”
Turning to face me as we walked, the guard captain asked, “How did you~
“Themes,” I answered with a smirk, winking at him. “Everything in this world appears to be thematic. Names especially, but that could also just be me railing against puns. Not a complaint as much as it is an observation, mind you. Princess Luna, from what I've seen and heard about her, has a night and darkness theme going on. It only fits that her guards would have bat wings.”
“And how exactly you came to that realization?”
“Eh, by being overtly genre savvy.”
“Semantics,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.
Yet another thing I'd come to quickly appreciate about Twilight's older brother. The guy could hold his own in a Seinfeldian Conversation. To me, that's important.
Plus, it didn't hurt that he grew up debating with a girl who's whole life practically revolved around reading books. If anything, he damn-well knew his way around conversational tropes. Trust me, that matters, yo.
“Well duh,” I replied, grinning like an idiot, “but back to the subject. Despite a severe lack of funds, something I'll always be proud of is the fact that I drove a pretty cool car. I couldn't just lie through my teeth and tell you that it was a good car, but it was certainly a cool one. The Jensen Interceptor. A fucking classic, man. I mean, sure, a British classic, but the British made the Supermarine Spitfire, so you can't just assume they wouldn't make another awesome machine eventually.”
“Spitfire?” Shining piqued, confused for some undisclosed reason.
“Yeah, a fighter plane,” I replied, my mind racing with images of aircrafts. “About as sexy as a big piece of metal could get. Primed and ready to take down the Germans to defend their pokey little island. You guys have pegasus...es, er, pegasi...? Whatever, you have flying ponies to do that kind of thing for you, so I suppose that aerospace machines are kind of unnecessary. Still, goddamn was it ever awesome. I came oh so very close to masturbating to that plane, dude, I shit you not.”
“Okay,” my faux-debate partner retorted, “that's far enough. How about we return to the topic of your car... whatever those are.”
“That rhymed.”
“You're as bad as my sister.”
“Hey, if it sticks out, I poke at it. I can't help it. My momma dropped me on my head.”
“Alright, you're worse than my sister.”
Heh, a compliment, whether he knows it or not.
With a sigh, Shining explained, “I have a long and storied history of arguing with Twilight about... well, just about everything. If there was a train of logic that could be applied to something, she would apply it and follow it until it could be followed no more.”
Of course! That's where he gets it from!
Quick mental note, “Debate with Twilight more often.”
“Alright, alright,” I conceded, “returning to the original subject. Jeez, you're a prude.”
“I'm married!” he countered, laughing nonetheless.
Intentionally dodging the concept of ponies that I know masturbating, I instead continued talking about my car of course.
“The Jensen Interceptor,” I gushed, caring not for how silly I must have looked while we trotted down the halls of Equestria's grandest palace, “it was pretty fucking sexy. That car, man. It looked great, sure, but I'll admit, it performed like crap. It was advertised as a muscle car... sort of, but it performed like an economy car. I'd say, 'Think Pinto', but you can't. So just think of a machine that sucks at its job even though it looks great.”
“The Mark VI printing press?” he responded, his eyebrows rising.
Not really sure how well a printing press (particularly, a printing press crafted by another universe's standards) compared in mechanical terms to the general unreliability of a car, I just answered with, “Yeah.”
Grinning, Shining chuckled, “You have no idea at all, do you?”
“Nope!” I jeered back, nudging him with a hoof. “And, to add to that, I don't care at all! At the very least, though, you're following what I'm talking about. That's what matters.”
“I suppose,” he replied with a laugh, pushing open another pair of doors as we ventured further into the palace.
~ ~ ~
“I have to admit, at the very least you're a gentlecolt,” the unicorn commented as we turned down what felt like the billionth corner.
Goddamn, how huge was this place again?
Did I need a sherpa to find the Princess?
Should I have brought a climbing harness?
“What?” I replied with a shrug. “Why? Don't get me wrong, I don't see myself as a lech or a creeper or anything, but a gentleman?”
“I'm just saying that with Twilight in season and everything, she hasn't once written to me about any 'unwanted attention' from you,” Shining answered, his voice neutral as though he hadn't said anything fucking weird at all.
So yeah...
My brain immediately screeched to a complete halt. There was probably some smoke. A fire extinguisher may be needed.
What.
What.
WHAT.
“What,” I eventually echoed, my jaw all over the floor.
Pausing, the guard apparently noticed that something must have happened; the color probably drained from my face or a screw had fallen out of one of my ears or something.
“Hey, Jeremy, you okay?” he asked, cautious concern in his voice.
“What,” I repeated.
I'd like you to keep in mind that we were still walking, turning corners and everything. I think I might have kicked on my body's cruise control while I tried and failed to process a piece of information that Old Jeremy would have just used copious amounts of vodka to delete.
“Should I... go get somepony?” Shining questioned, pulling us to a stop by stepping in front of me and looking me dead in the eyes. “One of the palace's staff doctors?”
Shaking my head vigorously, I blurted, “No!” Clamping my eyes shut, I lowered my voice and amended, “I mean, no... no, I'm alright. I was just trying desperately to find my brain's recycle bin. Girls don't... they don't go 'into season' where I'm from.”
“So I...” the white stallion began, steady realization bringing a hoof to the center of his forehead. “Oh, Celestia, I'm sorry.”
Sighing, I said, “Yeah, ignorance was bliss for a little while there.”
Placing a hoof on my shoulder, Shining Armor shook his head and added, “Okay, look, it's awkward, but it's already out in the open. We might as well get this next part out of the way right now.”
“You mean the part where you tell me to keep my han~ hooves off of your sister?”
“I would have worded it more amiably, but yes.”
Heaving another, much heavier sigh, I replied, “Look, dude, you might think you're being the protective big brother here, but calm down. Not only am I so very much not interested in any kind of sexual interaction right now, she's my fucking friend, man. When you boil down the facts, she basically saved my life and gave me a brand new one. She's pretty much my sister too. If anything, I'll be beating down all the other guys trying to get at her.”
“She was right,” he said from over his shoulder as he started down the hall again.
“She was what now?” I piqued in return, getting my own hooves into gear to keep up with him.
“She was right,” Shining repeated, a light chuckle accenting his words. “Twilight told me that you were an upstanding sort despite everything that you've been through. Some of the things you say might be a little rough around the edges... or just flat-out confusing, but I can see it for myself. I'm stuck up here guarding the palace, but I think I can rest easy knowing that Twilight has you there for support.”
“Good choice of words, yo,” I remarked. “'Support'. Remember, she's a grown girl, she doesn't need 'protecting'.”
“Ha, perish the thought!” he exclaimed, pretending for all of the world to be more angry than he really was. “She may be my little sister, but it's gotten to the point where I'm not sure if I can beat her in a fencing match anymore. She's just too good. The guards under my command love it when I lose to her.”
“I'll bet,” I smirked, imagining Twilight besting her bro in a heated round of swashbuckling.
But my brain, despite essentially being a supercomputer (which isn't me being full of myself, by the way, just factual), wasn't fast enough to finish processing what Shining had said. Whether or not I had recovered from my previous shock, I descended into it again after something else stuck me.
Goddammit, Rainbow Dash.
“OH MY GOD, THAT'S WHY SHE TOLD ME I SHOULD TAKE TWILIGHT OUT ON A DATE! THAT BITCH!”
~ ~ ~
Okay, another set of doors.
A big pair this time. Really big.
With ornate paintings covering them and everything.
This was, apparently, the last pair of doors that actually barred the public from their Princess of the Sun.
I wasn't prepared...
I'd been thinking of a lot of things to say or do once I met her again, but thoughts like that generally tend to fall to the back of my mind once I'm presented with the actual opportunity, you know?
Instead, I did what was probably expected of me.
I'm emotional. So sue me.
Celestia was in the middle of what looked like a court meeting with Equestria's nobility. Obviously, I lurched forward and hugged her on the spot.
Tact. It's not a word that I know a whole helluva lot about. Shining Armor was understandably horrified.
Clearing her throat, the Princess reacted surprisingly calmly and said, “Ladies and gentlecolts, it would appear that court is adjourned for today. I thank you all for joining, but it would seem that I have other matters to discuss. I hope that you can forgive me.”
The best thing about it all was the playful smile that never once left her face.
And still, the entire court simply nodded their heads and steadily left their seats, exiting the auditorium.
Sputtering, Shining quickly blurted out, “Princess, I'm sorry for the intrusion, we just~
“Prince Armor, this is not something to worry yourself over,” she said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. “I have been expecting an audience with young Jeremy for some time.”
Prince... another easy thing is the fact that I forgot I'd just been hanging out with royalty for the better half of two hours.
Damn.
Jeremy Robin, way to get around, dude.
“Would you prefer that I wait outside the courtroom, Princess?” Shining asked.
Taking a moment to look between both the guard captain and I (because I don't always blow at grammar), Celestia replied, “No. I think it would behoove me to exclude you from this, Sir Armor. I should imagine that you and Jeremy have bonded over the course of your journey here.”
Uh... in a manner of speaking. I bond at my own pace. It's usually a slow one, but I'll admit, Shining was a total bro already.
“Yes,” he stated, holding his ground.
Like I said, total bro. Spike would be proud. Or is proud. Hell, Shining might even be the one that Spike got his bro-ness from.
“Jeremy,” Celestia began, pulling me from my thoughts, “how fare you?”
Daunted by speaking with one of my biggest benefactors, I stammeringly replied, “Uh... I fare... w-well...?”
With a musical chuckle, the Princess questioned, “Care to expound?”
Finding my voice a second time, I hastily forced myself to say, “Y-yeah, I'm doing great. Just great. I even went out on a couple of dates that Rainbow Dash pretty much threw at me and your sister gave me this dream so I could wrestle down some inner demons and Shining told me that his sister is in season and that I'm a gentleman or gentlestallion or whatever for not taking notice and oh my God I'm rambling.”
Clamping a hoof over my mouth, I screwed my eyes shut and, in my mind, punched myself in the face about five thousand times.
Nudging me in the side, Shining Armor whispered, “Friendship report. Friendship report.”
Oh.
Fucking duh.
Clearing my throat, perhaps not as respectfully as Celestia had (c'mon, I'm not a princess myself, so forgive me for my lack of social graces), I stated, “I've learned a lot over the past few months. A whole lot. I might swear a few times though, so forgive me. I've been told I'm a sailor stuck in another man's body.”
“However you are comfortable,” the Princess retorted amicably.
I turned to face Shining Armor, who had said the same only hours before.
Were all these ponies so understanding? If so, man, my human world could learn a lot from them. Love and tolerance, dude.
“I learned a lot,” I said, pushing myself on to complete what originally wasn't even a completed thought. “I learned about friendship. I learned about the bonds that bind it. It might not take an unforeseen force to link others together, but it helps. I, uh, I came here to thank you, Princess. To thank you for saving me and introducing me to Twilight. She's... I'm not sure. She's fixed me. It's hard to imagine my mind as a broken machine that needs fixing, like a printing press or something, but dammit if that's not how it feels. I gained a great friend in her and, in doing so, gained something that I'd been lacking for a long time. I can see why she's your personal student.”
That last comment, apparently, piqued Celestia's interest.
“Oh?” she replied, smiling softly. “How so?”
For fuck's sake, I hate being toyed with.
She knew 'how so'.
“Because she's amazing,” I said, not budging an inch as Shining eyed me curiously. “Because she always had the ability to make friends but never gave herself the chance. Because... she's sort of like me... but better. I don't want to really argue this, mind you, I'm just saying what I feel. She's better, she's further along the line of understanding what it means to connect with other people than I am... and I'm just now getting there. And when you first met her, like me, she wasn't. She was a recluse. But, somehow, you saw the potential in her regardless, and I'm not talking about the potential for magic. You saw that she could bring people together. You saw that.”
My stallion bro started tearing up a bit.
“She... brought me back from a dark place,” I continued, scuffing my hooves against the tiled floor. “To sort of repeat myself again, or again again if you count my thoughts, she brought me back from my darkest place. If I were writing this out as a story, I'd even italicize the same place. And you trusted her with that task. And you were... right.”
“Twilight Sparkle is an astounding pony,” the Princess said simply.
It was as though everything were planned in advance, and considering the way in which I'd been brought here, everything had indeed.
“Princess?” I questioned, my thoughts churning like a maelstrom. “Was I brought here for a purpose?”
Helpfully, Shining Armor interjected with, “Self-doubt is the key to self-destruction.”
Which I considered for a brief moment.
Self-doubt was practically a main component to who I was as a person.
“Indeed,” Celestia stated, draping a wing over my shoulder, “do not fret over things such as 'why you are here' and 'what purpose you might serve'. As it stands, you are here now. That is what matters. There may very well be machinations in store for you, but I do not know of them. I simply saw a man in a moment of desperation and chose to help him. Sometimes we see pain, in all of its myriad forms, and we cannot bare it. I will not argue that yours was greater than that of others, as such an argument would undoubtedly be unfair, but I saw a pain that I myself could not bare.”
Hugging the tall pony even tighter, I said, “And I for one am thankful.”
The words might have come out more blubbery, but fuck you, I was in the moment.
“And I see that,” Celestia said, nuzzling my cheek. “Jeremy, I know that there must be many questions and I will try to answer as many as is possible.”
“Can I go home?”
“Do you want to go home?”
Oh...
Wow...
Now there was a question I hadn't thought about.
…
…
…
After several more dot-dot-dots that I'm sure weren't included, I answered, “No. There's... nothing left for me there anymore. I'm not trying to sound depressing, I'm just speaking the truth. I wasn't much in my own realm. Success was a word that I would have hardly understood. But here? I'm starting to think that I could make a difference. Do... do you think I could?”
With the most genuine (and to me, the most heartbreaking smile), Celestia replied, “I do.”
It took me a moment, but eventually I asked, “...Why?”
The retort was simple. So simple that it almost hurt.
Wait... no, it did hurt.
“Because you think you can,” the Princess stated.
Expected or not, it still took me a moment to deal with it.
I was believed in.
Do you know what that feels like? If not, try the most amazing thing in the world. In the cosmos. In the universe.
“You really think I can?” I asked again, my eyes watering.
Wrapping her forehooves around me, Celestia quietly responded, “I know it.”
Which was all it took for the dams to burst.
Here I was, facing the literal goddess who pioneered saving my life.
It's not easy holding a straight face in light of that. Trust me.
“Thank you!” I cried.
I stood before one of my saviors. And I dissolved into a sobbing wreck.
And she held me.
And I continued to cry.
And she still held me.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Seventeen – The OTHER Pink One...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Seventeen – The OTHER Pink One
~ ~ ~
“Your wife really did take part in my rescue, didn't she?” I asked as we left the courtroom, my emotions finally under control.
Smiling, Shining Armor replied, “And I'm glad that she did.”
“As am I,” I retorted with a chuckle. “Methinks the pretty pink pony princess deserves a visit.”
“Well, lucky for you that I know just where to go.”
“Who'da thunk it?” I laughed again, feeling a mirth well up in my chest.
It's hard to hold onto aggravation when you're thinking about the people, er, ponies that bailed your ass out of the biggest fire it's ever been cooking in.
Even if they're kind of stupi~ No! No! Bad Jeremy! YOU ARE GOING TO BE NICE THIS TIME, GODDAMMIT!
With that mantra repeating in my mind, I followed my new buddy back down the twisting halls of Canterlot Palace, stopping every so often whenever Shining happened to cross paths with one of the guards serving under his command. They'd chat about as amicably as a soldier and his commanding officer could (like Twi said, protocol and all that) for a few minutes, then we'd get back into our groove and resume our trot. All in all, the place was rather overwhelming in scope, with its high, vaulting ceilings and mile-long corridors. Still, at the same time I'll admit, I was hard-pressed not to be enthralled by the beautifully ornate architecture and many lavish decorations. Marble statues of the princesses could be found around just about any corner, joined by what I assumed were other famous ponies from Equestrian history. I was familiar with Star Swirl the Bearded (let me put it to you this way, if you knew Twilight Sparkle, you'd be learning about Star Swirl whether you wanted to or not), but most of the others were unknown to me. Odder still were the several statues that looked a great deal like the girls I knew... but were not. Clover the Clever, Commander Hurricane, and few others that I didn't have much time get a close look at.
However, by the time we made it to a hall seemingly built up of nothing but stained glass windows, my attention was thoroughly stolen from the marble carvings.
…
…
…
Jesus Christ, beautiful doesn't even begin to describe them. Try mesmerizing.
“Fuck me sideways,” I muttered under my breath, my eyes wide with wonder as the bright sunlight outside sent an aurora borealis of colors dancing across every wall.
“Again, not sure I would have worded it that way, but yeah, gets me every time too,” Shining Armor concurred, grinning.
“They're really something, aren't they?” came a musical voice that I immediately recognized.
Spinning around fast enough to give myself whiplash, I took a deep breath to compose myself and said, “That's not even scratching the surface, toots.”
If I'm gonna say something, I might as well add that little Jeremy flair.
Princess Cadance either didn't know what the word meant or just didn't care. Rather than reply, she simply strode over and knelt down beside me, draping a wing across my shoulders. Joining me on the opposite side, Shining Armor took a seat on the floor as well. Together, the three of us just craned our necks in silence and gazed upon these Equestrian heroes, these mutual friends and family members of ours.
“How do they do it?” I eventually asked, my voice remarkably controlled despite all of the emotions waging bloody-war inside my head.
“I think you know the answer to that question already,” the pink princess replied, a serene smile gracing her features. “It comes in many forms, some almost impossible to recognize, but behind true friendship there is always a deep and binding love. I'm sure you've seen it, or at the very least heard of it. The things those girls have gone through for each other... this hall lacks the necessary number of windows to commemorate their every deed.”
“Having heard a few pretty crazy stories already, I can attest to that,” I stated, still unwilling to rip my eyes away from the glasswork before me. “But love? I think I'm starting to understand what real friendship means, but I can't tell you one way or another if I'll ever fully understand love.”
“Then you're lying,” Cadance giggled.
“How so?”
“Well, just think about it. These ponies, these ponies who have changed your life... do you love them?”
“I... I don't know. I've only known some of them for so long.”
“Ah, but you've known one particular mare for quite some time now, haven't you?”
Blushing, I finally found the strength to rise from my position on the floor.
“Th-that's a loaded question and you know it,” I stammered, struggling to make sense of my own thoughts. “I mean, c'mon, I have her brother sitting six inches away from me!”
“Not to mention her sister-in-law,” Shining quipped, smirking.
Have I mentioned this yet? Because I think I have. Oh how I hate being messed with. And shit, here was Twi's brother joining in on his wife's fun!
“Look, she saved my life, gave me a roof, fed me and helped me when I was sick, showed me compassion when I definitely didn't deserve it, and~
Stopping in my tracks, the obvious dawned on me, just like it always did after I answered my own fucking questions.
“Go ahead,” Cadance urged, tears forming in her eyes this time.
I guess being the Princess of Love gave you a greater, more profound understanding of the concept that you yourself represented than most others.
“It's okay,” Shining echoed, nodding for me to keep going.
“But...” I squeaked, my words catching in my throat as though it were filled with hooks.
Cutting me off again, the pink princess softly said, “It occurs in far too many ways to list. It can sometimes develop into things more, and other times it simply solidifies what was already there. Don't worry yourself over the fine details, those are still to come. Just focus on the here and now. How do you feel towards her, Jeremy?”
Looking back up at the window depicting the defeat of Nightmare Moon, I locked my eyes upon a lavender unicorn.
The words were there, but they were just... so hard to get out. And they felt so inadequate. Incomplete.
I knew that they were both urging me on, to say what was necessary to continue my growth, but that didn't make it any less difficult, dammit.
“Sh-Shining?” I questioned, my voice barely above that of a field mouse. “Is... is it really okay?”
“I've learned quite a lot from my dear Cadance,” he replied, his eyes glimmering with pride as he rose to place a hoof upon my shoulders. “One of those things is indeed what she just said. You can't quantify love. It just can't be done. Sometimes, there are just ponies that we hold close to our hearts. It can be romantic, it can be platonic, or it can be something that words can't yet describe. Life is... strange like that.”
“And it needn't be more than that love,” she added, smiling up at me. “It can grow, it can become more than what it was over time, but in the end it is still love. You need only accept it to begin with. From there, you can decide where and how that love will further blossom.”
Haha, hey, remember what I mentioned earlier about having probably already reached my crying quota for this evening?
Well, I was wrong.
When you get love itself thrown in your face, things change.
It happens.
Suddenly, I had to face something that I had been steadily realizing over the course of four months.
“I love her,” I admitted, hyperventilating. “I'd do anything for her. She... she works so hard, she's worked so hard already. And it isn't fair. She has the whole world as well as her own sanity on her own shoulders... and... and... I just~
Wrapping his hooves around me, Shining Armor hugged me tight and quietly stated, “There's a reason I told you that I would be willing to trust my little sister with you, and no, it has nothing to do with how you've failed to notice her current state or anything of the sort. You just... care. You care about her. It's written all over your face.” Taking a moment to step away from me, he added, “You asked me earlier if it was obvious how thankful you were of the princesses, and to be true, it was as clear as a bell. But with my sister, there's more. You feel like you owe your life to her, don't you?”
That was all it took.
Slamming my hooves into the perfectly tiled floor, hard enough to crack it, I screamed, “Because I do!”
I shuddered uncontrollably for a moment as the husband and wife duo held me close, but this one time, just this once, I made damn sure to regain myself quickly.
Sure, Twilight wasn't a princess. And, yeah, sure, she might well have been more crazy than I've ever been in my entire life, especially after having her mind sundered by a freaking rose-colored party that never ends.
But do you know what else?
And this is the really important part. The single most important part.
Though I may never have been as far down the road as she's gone across the Sliding Scale of Psychosis, I've still seen it nonetheless. I've seen what madness looks like. I've been there, with a noose around my neck and a death-wish in my heart. I knew firsthand what it felt like to fray around the edges and wonder what sanity really means from the outside looking in.
And even still, she couldn't bear to see me die.
So just this fucking once, I stayed strong. Even if all I had to say was something simple, something I had only moments ago just said, it was worth saying.
Catching my breath, I steadied myself for as long as was necessary before saying, “Yes... I love her.”
I... I didn't know in which facet or for, but I loved her.
~ ~ ~
About 20 minutes after we left Cadance to her own devices, which was pretty much the allotted time needed for me to calm-the-fuck down, Shining spoke up and asked me, “Was that really so hard?”
“The people that I love have a bad habit of dying,” I remarked somberly, apparently not as in-control of my emotions as I thought I was.
Interestingly, Shining replied, “Not an issue.”
“What?” I quickly asked, my thoughts suddenly left on the roadside in favor of confusion for a moment.
The stallion simply shrugged his shoulders.
“She'll tell you once she's ready.”
“I... suppose... I guess...”
“Feeling a little emotionally exhausted?”
“Hah, yeah, there's an understatement. You basically just spent the day with a guy who specializes in breaking down.”
Jabbing me in the side of the chest, the stallion smirked, “Don't worry, it can only get better from here.”
“Oh really?” I questioned incredulously, a single eyebrow rising.
“Trust me, I'm a military man,” he laughed.
Rolling my eyes, I scoffed, “Oh, great, that'll come in really handy when I have to wave my best friend off into a war.”
“Again, trust me,” he replied, completely nonplussed, “Twiley... she just can't be touched. Literally.”
Fearing that I'd get no further with him down this particular avenue of secret intelligence, I instead opted to cop-the-fuck-out.
Hey, it's what you do when you have no more train tracks to roll down. Or bridges to cross.
Fucking bridges...
“By the way,” I inquired, legitimately curious, “how'd you know she'd be here?”
Scoffing, Shining Armor replied, “I think I could scarcely call myself her husband if I didn't know where all of her favorite hiding spots throughout the palace were.”
Screwing my eyes shut in concentration, I eventually relented by way of logic and said, “Fair enough.”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Eighteen – Slumber Party Fiasco...
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
It hurts sometimes... remembering those that you've left behind. But sometimes there's a purpose for that pain. It helps to remind you of how much you have, no matter how fleeting it might seem.
This one goes out to you, Sunshine. Life was unfair and cruel, but I'll always remember you for the happiness that you tried so hard to spread. Always. Kudos, you amazing little girl.
I'll never stop grieving, but I will stop bellyaching. You'd yell at me for that, wouldn't you? Heh...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Eighteen – Slumber Party Fiasco
~ ~ ~
Jeremy's been going up and down on the ol' emotional rollercoaster for quite a few chapters now, even if the past few have been happy ones, but I still thought I'd take a break and draft out a chapter that's more or less just everypony hanging out. We all need a good break every now and again, right?
In complete honestly, this one's pretty much going to be one giant Seinfeldian Conversation (or several)... but with ponies. And a song I've already showed you before.
So, all in all, don't expect a lot of plot progress in this one... unless I'm lying my ass off. Which is entirely possible. Either way though, I hope you enjoy it!
- Joseph Raszagal
~ ~ ~
So, a couple things...
"Jeremy Robin, what do you want to do?"
It's an important question, dammit!
It's been about three days since my trip to Canterlot and my mind just hasn't stopped mulling over every single possibility.
Sure, Rainbow Dash kind of forced me to conclude that I could be of use to this world (God bless her), me being somewhat technologically savvy and in possession of a multitude of electronics that could, for the lack of a better description, fucking change Equestria as we knew it.
But still, shouldn't there be... more?
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm being a greedy asshole here, I just want to help out more than that.
These ponies helped me more than I can ever repay them for, so how could I really help them in return?
How could I, Jeremy Robin, return the favor?
Another in a long line of complicated questions, to be sure.
Admittedly, Shining Armor had given me another idea, but I was only just starting to nurture it. I didn't know where it could go and what I could do once I actually got there.
All I really knew is that I had to try.
Aside from that little ponderance, I also spent a great deal of time trying hard as fucking Hell to not notice something that the aforementioned stallion had also made me privy to.
Involving his sister.
My best friend.
...
Don't give me that look, you know what.
Heck, he was even "nice" enough to give me a rather unforgettable birds'n'bees talk that I really, really, REALLY wish I could forget, that way I'll be able to see the signs from now on and hopefully be on my best behavior. Because not noticing at all and thus more or less always being on my best behavior clearly wasn't good enough.
Ugh...
So yeah, there isn't enough alcohol on the planet to undo the damage that he did to me.
~ ~ ~
Quick question, folks, and yes, this will be on the test!
What's the best thing to do the night after watching an awesome orchestral concert?
Uh... apparently the answer is throw a party... a slumber party.
Yeah, not exactly what I had in mind, but alright.
And with a bunch of girls too, mind you. A few of them very much girlie girls.
...
...
...
Okay, fine, I'll relent. Who knew it would be this cool? They don't even have cooties!
Heh, sorry, that's the seven-year-old in me coming out.
"But the brass!" I exclaimed, throwing my hooves up into the air. "C'mon, the best part of that concert was easily the brass! It was all over the place, like thunder and friggin' lightning!"
"I'm afraid that I must disagree, darling," Rarity replied, daintily nursing her drink (champagne that I had refused upon being prompted). "The string section made the performance for me, particularly Miss Philharmonic's solo. It was something of a revelation. I can see why her status has elevated so."
I noticed a brief twitch in Twilight's left ear. However, whatever she was thinking went unsaid.
"I am sorry, Jeremy, but I am afraid that I must agree with Rarity," Zecora stated, smiling.
I wasn't sure which I should have been most surprised by: the zebra's compound-rhyme or the fact that she had decided to attend our little get-together in general. Either way, it felt like Yoda was hanging out with me, which was badass regardless.
Well alright, to be fair, AJ was with us too, and I'd come to understand their relationship a bit better over the past few weeks. Wherever AJ went, Zecora went too, no exceptions.
Kinda heartwarming, really.
"I dunno, I liked the drums," Rainbow Dash commented, sipping her decidedly nonalcoholic lemonade (Pinkie was pretty firm about the rules when they showed up at the library).
"Percussion," Twilight quipped, grinning.
Rolling her eyes, Rainbow retorted, "Whatever. It was awesome."
"I don't really do that orchestral crap," Gilda remarked with a shrug, idly sloshing her cider back and forth in her mug. "Now rock and roll, that's a different story. I'll jam to that every day of the week."
"Gotta broaden your horizons, G," the pegasus filly smirked. "There's lots of cool music out there."
"Eh, I just always found all the classical stuff to be pretty boring," Gilda concluded with a stretch of her wings. "Plus, the crowds are always so stuffy and stuck-up. Even if I liked the show, I wouldn't be allowed to cheer or anything, and that's even more lame than the music itself."
"Maybe you'd enjoy it more if I went with you," I jeered, eliciting a bright blush from the griffin and a round of giggles from everyone else present.
Rainbow Dash and I locked eyes for a moment and shared an unspoken high-five.
“Um, personally, I thought the piano was really nice,” Fluttershy said quietly, halfway hiding behind her mane.
"Ah gotta agree with ya there, Sugarcube," Applejack concurred, enjoying a hearty gulp of her own cider. "Always wanted to learn how to play it mahself. Just so dern pretty."
"I'm trying hard right now to imagine you tickling the old ivories, Boss, but the image just won't come together," Gilda laughed, her cheeks having recovered from their bright red color.
"Ditto," I snickered, earning myself a stern glare from the apple farmer.
"Ah'll have ya know, Ah used to practice violin whenever Ah went to visit mah aunt an' uncle out in Manehattan," Applejack remarked, refilling her mug for what I'd mentally recorded to be the fifth time.
Let it be known, the girl could hold her alcohol like a champ.
"Really now?" Rarity questioned, mischief sparkling in her azure eyes. "We still haven't gotten to truth or dare. I might just have to test you on that, darling."
"Well, to bad for y'all that there ain't no violin present," the farmer smirked, sticking her tongue out at the fashionista.
"Actually," Twilight commented, "I'm fairly certain that there's one lying around here somewhere. I used to practice it myself. I couldn't very well call myself a talented musician, but it was a very relaxing way to pass the time."
"Fantastic," AJ grumbled, shaking her head. "Sure, go ahead an' keep on encouragin' her."
"If it helps any, I used to play guitar back when I had hands," I said, grinning as I placed a hoof on her shoulder, "and I doubt I have the magic in me yet to strike a single note without screwing it up beyond repair."
Cocking an eyebrow, Rainbow inquired, "You played guitar?"
Shrugging, I blushed, looked off the the side, then answered, "Sort of. It's not like I was a prodigy or anything. It was just something that I enjoyed. Had to take solace in something. All things consider~
"Hold it right there, dude," Gilda stated, her voice a mixture of firm and understanding. "We can talk about music without digging up all the painful stuff, right? No need to get all teary-eyed on us again."
Steadying myself, I sighed and said, "Yeah."
Taking a moment to look around the room, I found that all eyes were on me, every pair comforting and full of understanding.
Dammit, we were having fun, and somehow I got depressed. How is it that I always do that?
Determined to keep things from going down the sad route that I always seemed obligated to pursue, I quickly announced, "You know what? Fuck it. Twilight, do you mind if I put on an album? I know you've got a good record player down here. I wanna show you girls some of the jams that I used to listen to... some of them I used to even play, albeit poorly."
Smiling softly, the librarian replied, "Feel free to play whatever you'd like, Jeremy."
Which was all that I needed. Sure, I was a little worried how the girls would react to my taste in music, being a depressing taste as it was, but still, I wanted them to understand.
They were my friends. We all love sharing shit with our friends.
Er, well, except for actual, literal shit. That'd be weird, yo.
I mean, seriously, who would do that? I remember the old prank about filling a paper bag full of dog poo then lighting it on fire and leaving it on someone's porch, but that's not the kind of thing you'd do to a friend, right? Well, unless they wer~
DAMMIT! NO RAMBLING, YOU'RE ON AN ASSIGNMENT! GET MUSIC NOW, THINK DUMB SHIT LATER!
"I am a leader, but you will not follow me! I ain't no preacher for I'm full of blasphemy! See you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, boys! Hey!"
Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie, should I really have been surprised when she jumped up, materialized a banjo out from fucking nowhere, and began playing along?
Most likely, but I wasn't. I was just having too much damn fun.
"Like an angel who's been dancin' with some devils I'm a bad girl with a hope for better days"
"So you're a girl now?" Gilda laughed.
I grinned back at her, winked, then continued singing my ass off.
"My laughter is spiced with mischief I won't toss the salt, kiss it up, or pray"
Again, I should have been surprised, but again again, I somehow wasn't as the pink party planner then joined in with, "When you offer pink or blue, I'll take the blackest!"
"When you offer one or two, I'll offer three!" I continued, spinning Twilight around and catching her before she could tumble.
Undaunted by all the little, trivial things like the fact that it should have been impossible for her to know this song, Pinkie cheered, "When you point me in a direction, I'll run backwards!”
“And at the boarder of utopia, I'll toast to anarchy!” I replied.
"Cause fire and rock, I'm comin' home to you While I'm pickin' the bones out of my dinner stew Open up the gates of Hell and roll me through Fire and rock, I'm comin' home to you"
"C'mon, girls, you've heard what comes next!" I exclaimed, my grin more than likely running from ear to ear.
Jumping up, Gilda practically shouted, "I am a leader, but you will not follow me!"
"Ah ain't no preacher, for Ah'm full of blasphemy!" AJ continued, a giddily alcoholic sway in her step as she too rose to her hooves.
"See you in Hell, boys!" Rarity joined in, legitimately catching me off-guard with the vulgar language.
"See you in Hell, boys!" Dash echoed.
"Hey!" everyone sang simultaneously.
I almost started crying again, I was so fucking thrilled.
"So you're saying Satan's army's rising up soon? Well if it is, I'm secretary of no state! Got wrenches, rocks, and bottles in my tool pouch My desire is society's jail bait"
"'Cause there's tons of guys moping 'bout the workday," Pinkie Pie sang as she somehow played her banjo and performed a cartwheel at the same time.
Positioning myself behind the boisterous baker so she could stick her landing on my back, I continued, "Dimes by the dozens, their song weighs a thousand pounds!"
"But there's nothing like a lady with a buzz saw!"
"I just might build your house, but I just might tear it down!" I grunted, still somewhat in-tune, as she jumped up and down on me as though I were a trampoline.
With a resounding thud, Pinkie Pie and I proceeded to fall down in a fit of giggles as the record decided to take a brief break from all the music in favor of the sounds and atmosphere of a crowded tavern. Glasses clinked together in toasts, muffled conversations could be heard in the background, and laughter filled the make-believe building.
Jumping to my hooves, I pulled my co-star back up with me and exclaimed, "Yes, barkeep, we will surely have another! To the witches, to the goblins, and the trolls!"
"I'll be coming to recruit your rebel children," Pinkie added with excess exuberance, strumming her banjo in perfect synch again, "there ain't no use in locking doors, there's one of me in every home!"
"With mud on my boots, And blood on my jeans I'll take those pretty dresses, Tear 'em at the seams Roll me through the gate of Hell Ah, please...
And I'll be back in your daughter's dreams"
"Let's wrap this up, everyone!" I yelled, pumping a hoof into the air excitedly.
"I am a leader, but you will not follow me!" the whole room chorused together, smiles all around. "I ain't no preacher, for I'm full of blasphemy! See you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, see you in Hell, boys! See you in Hell, see you in Hell, boooooooooooooooys!"
"Haha!" I cackled, my toothy grin wide, finally concluding the song and falling right the fuck back down.
The girls all immediately joined me in my laughter as the record span to static, the song I'd chosen being the last one on the album. Despite the dark nature of the tune, no one seemed to mind, instead focusing on the lively energy and the antics of the accompanying impromptu performance. Pinkie and I shared a quick wink in lieu of that last bit.
Holy crap, I wish my little dragon bro were here too rather than attending his own slumber party with the Crusaders. Heck, Shining and Cadance too. This night was turning out to be the friggin' best night ever!
~ ~ ~
Oh my fucking God, this night was turning out to be the worst night ever.
Staring down at the section of floor resting between our small pony circle, I watched as a glass bottle steadily ceased spinning, its neck pointed directly at me.
Grinning mischievously, Rainbow Dash smirked, "So, Jeremy, truth or dare?"
Unfortunately for her, my brain had already collapsed in on itself and begun repeating an internal mantra in order to distract what was left of me from the awful, awful reality at hand.
"Rubber ducky, you're the one, you make bath time loads of fun!"
"Uh, Jeremy?" Rainbow questioned, as though I could hear her. "You alright?"
"RUBBER DUCKY, YOU'RE THE ONE, YOU MAKE BATH TIME LOADS OF FUN!"
"Jeremy!" she yelled.
"RUBBER DUCKY, YOU'RE THE ONE, YOU MAKE BATH TIME LOADS OF FUN!"
Grabbing me by both shoulders, the prismatic pegasus proceeded to scream right into my ear, "Jeremy, snap out of it!"
"Agh!" I exclaimed as I fell backwards in shock.
Stepping a few inches away, Rainbow tilted her head in confusion while Gilda shrugged and asked, "You back, dude? You were kinda staring off into the middle distance there."
"Wha?" I stammered before giving my head a quick shake. "I mean, yeah, I'm here. All Jeremys are present and accounted for."
"Right," RD slowly stated, "so... what is it then? Truth or dare?"
Apprehensively, I focused hard on the question for a moment before replying, "Uh... well, there's not much I can tell you about myself that you don't already know at this point, so... shit, I'm gonna regret this. Dare?"
Rubbing her hooves together menacingly, Rainbow looked several times between Twilight, Gilda, and I.
"Oh, oh no you don't."
Her grin widened.
"I will fucking trash you right here and now, you whore!"
"I dare you to chug one of those energy drinks!" she commanded with glee.
"Ha, I knew it! I see how it is!" I shouted as I stood up and stretched my legs, preparing for a showdown. "Maybe you'd like to take this outside, little lady~ Wait a minute... what did you say?"
"Chug one of your energy drinks."
I gave the teenage pegasus one long and tired glare, then echoed, "Chug."
"Yep."
Sighing, I turned to face the stairwell that lead up to my room and quipped, "And I must look pretty stupid right now."
"Yep."
"You are an evil, diabolical pony, Rainbow Dash. You know that?"
"Yep."
Groaning, I rolled my eyes and made my way to my room, my tail trailing between my legs in full knowledge that I had just been bested by a fucking teenager.
Oh well, what was new?
In a last ditch effort to at least save some face, I grabbed two of the cans and began formulating a plan. As I turned to head back downstairs, however, a loud and resounding "WHAT" thundered throughout the treehouse as though a bomb had just been detonated right underneath my hooves.
"I'm gonna take a wild shot in the dark here and assume that Dash just told Twilight what the name of the drink is," I muttered to myself, suddenly finding it a little difficult to remain angry.
Trotting back to the rest of the group, I sat down beside a decidedly much more frazzled looking librarian and put on my cheeriest smile.
"Hey, don't blame me, it was her idea," I snickered as I pointed at the offending pegasus.
All this earned me was a contemptuous glare.
"Ahem," I said as I cleared my throat, grabbing everyone's attention, "I won't back down from a challenge, but these drinks are a little rough if slammed back in one go."
"Yeah they are!" Pinkie chirped giddily.
Crap, I forgot about that. Welp, guess that crosses her off the list.
"Knowing that, I'd at least like someone else to look like a chump alongside me," I announced, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. "Rainbow can't because she's already kind of familiar with the drink, and besides, an entire year's worth of sugar can't be good for a toddler her age."
"Hey!"
Hehe, karma's a bitch, ain't it, kid?
"And Pinkie can't join in because she's already familiar with it too. So, anybody else wanna rise to the occasion?"
I expected Gilda to step forward and, admittedly, she did. However, a certain drunken apple farmer took a few more steps forward.
"Ain't no challenge Ah'll shy away from," she slurred, though looking no less determined for it.
"Um, Applejack, I'm not sure that's a very good idea," Fluttershy squeaked.
“Eh, it's not alcoholic, just superextradoublemega caffeine,” I said, patting the yellow pegasus on the side reassuringly. “She could probably use a drink that isn't cider right now anyway.”
“Ah can hear ya perfectly, ya know that, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, just so we're clear, Ah could drink all y'all under the table tonight an' still trot a straight line.”
“No need to get defensive, yo, I'm sure you could.”
Passing one of the cans over to her, I popped mine open, my daily hoof training having since made them far more deft and useful than they'd been when I first arrived. With a grin, I lifted mine and said, “I propose a toast! Here's to good friends, good music, and two throats that are about to burn very, very badly!”
“Heh, Ah'll toast to them first two all night long,” she replied, clinking her drink against mine.
Locking eyes, we smirked in unison and knocked the beverages back like champs.
Screwing my eyes shut, I guzzled as fucking fast as I could before the burn could catch up. It was a losing race, or battle, or racebattle (battlerace?), but I gave it my best shot all the same. About halfway through the can, it finally hit me, this merciless cinnamon and ginger explosion, but I refused to give in. Opening my watering eyes, I looked over at my competition and saw the same throat-rending pain written all across her face as well. Determined to win, I kept going until my can was empty, finishing only seconds before the apple farmer did the same. Then, just to add a bit of fanfare, I crushed the can on my forehead and dropped it, grinning like a maniac.
Aaaaaaaand that's about when the coughing finally caught me.
Oh man, did I cough. It hurt, it sucked, but it was nonetheless thoroughly awesome. I collapsed onto the floor, my hooves clutching my chest and my tongue lolling out like a dog's. Rolling over, I found Applejack doing the exact same thing. Somewhere between laughing and gagging hard enough to burst a lung, I outstretched my foreleg to her and was rewarded with a hoofbump.
“Y-y'all... y'all weren't kiddin',” she wheezed. “Th-that there's a... volatile l-little drink. Ah've downed shots of... of straight w-whiskey that hurt less.”
“Yeah,” I replied, panting up a storm as my taste buds tried to recover, “volatile's a good word for it.”
“Should I have dared you to do something else?” Rainbow snickered.
Pulling myself up from the floor, I shook my head and said, “Nah, that was perfect. And shit, I totally did it! I wasn't really sure if I was actually going to finish the entire can before my esophagus revolted, Russian Revolution style. Maybe next time you can dare me to do something that I know I'm good at, like having a mental breakdown or something.”
“Heh, I think you've met your yearly quota on those already, dude,” Gilda remarked, jabbing me in the shoulder.
“Um, I have to agree,” Fluttershy added, giving me a soft smile.
“Alright, alright, no more sanity jokes,” I relented, smiling back at her. “Instead, I think I'll just take my turn now.”
“Your turn?” Twilight asked, tilting her head in confusion.
By way of reply, I simply pointed at the bottle sitting between us and grinned.
With a flick of my hoof, I sent it in a quick clockwise spin. As if ordained by fate (maybe Celestia was watching and wanted to give me a little chance at revenge), the bottle came to a slow stop, its neck pointing directly at Rainbow Dash.
I think my devious smile was wide enough to split my head in half. She looked understandably nervous.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen!” I exclaimed in triumph.
“You haven't even dared me to do anything yet, it's a little early for you go off on a victory rant.”
“So, it's dare then?”
“Well duh! Truth is boring, talk is cheap, and I'm a mare of action.”
“Filly.”
“Oh, just shut up and dare me already,” she grumbled over the rest of our laughter.
“I find it hard not to admit admit,” Zecora chuckled merrily, “this turning of the tables does quite fit.”
“Yes, yes it does,” I stated as I thought hard about what trials and tribulations would best suit my prismatic victim. “Did you by any chance bring your Gameboy?”
“Huh?” she retorted, looking back at her discarded saddlebags. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“Because I dare you to waste all of your TMs on the worst and least favorite mons in your party,” I said, crossing my forelegs and resting my chin on my hooves.
Gendo Ikari would have appreciated my perfect impression, I'm sure.
“What?!” Rainbow exclaimed, her jaw dropping open. “And you had the nerve to call me evil!”
“Never said that I wasn't too.”
“Jeremy, I think the rest of us are a little lost here,” Twilight commented.
“Yes, I dare say, I haven't the fainted clue as to what the two of you are talking about,” Rarity agreed.
“Eh, I also didn't say that my turn was going to be the most exciting one of the game,” I offered with a shrug, “but she knows what I'm talking about and that's what counts.”
“Do I really have to do this?” Rainbow begged as she fetched the plastic brick in question.
“It's either that or release your starter.”
“What?!” she exclaimed again.
“But Gummy's her favorite,” Pinkie Pie jumped in, defending the colorful filly.
“Hey, when I play this game, I play for keeps. She's just lucky that she didn't go with truth.”
Turning the device on, Dash angrily huffed, “Yeah, I'm sensing that.”
Wait a sec, I'm rolling past something here.
“You named your starter 'Gummy'?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Well, yeah, Charmander's a lizard,” she answered as the game booted up. “It seemed obvious to me.”
“Oh, wow, you went with Charmander?” I asked, a little impressed. “That had to make Brock's gym all kinds of interesting.”
Nodding, she opened up her inventory menu and said, “I had Fluttershy Poison Powder everything within sight, then had her slow it all down with a billion String Shots. After that, I just sent out Gummy and used Ember until I could Ember no more.”
“And Misty's gym?” I inquired, legitimately intrigued.
So sue me, I was a Pokemaniac back when I was a runt.
“That was a lot easier,” she answered, giving Thunder Bolt to a Raticate that, for all intents and purposes, had absolutely no business even attempting a special attack. “By then I had Pinkie, my Clefable. When she sent out her Starmie, I used Metronome and... uh... Pinkie kinda exploded. Took out that stupid starfish in one hit. It was awesome, even if I felt a little guilty about it afterwards.”
“I wouldn't beat yourself up about it, kid, explosions happen,” I laughed, patting her on the back. “There's even a TM for it later. I used to cheat my ass off and multiply it so everything in my party could go boom whenever I wanted.”
“Ooh, ooh, can I have it, can I have it?” Pinkie Pie jumped in again, dancing around the blue filly as she gave Rest to a particularly useless Graveler. “It'll be like blasting off my party cannon in every battle!”
“Sorry, hun, but I'm pretty sure Clefable can't learn it,” I stated. “You'll just have to hope Metronome works out for ya a few more times in the future.”
“Awww,” she huffed, scuffing at the floor with a hoof.
“There,” Rainbow announced, turning her Gameboy off and sneering at me. “All of 'em are used. Satisfied now?”
Grinning, I replied, “Very much so.”
“Good, so we can get back to truths and dares that ain't just in-jokes?” AJ asked, rolling her eyes.
Passing the bottle over to Rainbow Dash, I answered, “Yep!”
And of course the damn thing pointed at me after she finished spinning it.
Goddammit.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Nineteen - Decisions, Decisions... and a Few More Decisions...
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
I'm going to admit, I had the time of my life writing this chapter. I've been sick and depressed lately, probably the natural reaction to being sick... among other things, but I'll be goddamned if any of that is going to bring me down, yo. These ponies are just too much fun to write about, even if I'm writing about them sitting around and talking about pretty much nothing. One of the things that always sticks with me when I start up another chapter is the fact that Lauren based these characters off of how she imagined them when she was playing with her pony toys as a little kid. Which, I don't care how you look at it, is fucking beautiful.
Eh, I'm rambling. As usual. To cut things short, I hope you all are doing fantastic, because even if I feel like shit right now, somehow I feel fantastic too. My body might be frowning, but my brain is smiling like all Hell.
Have a nice night, y'all. Kentucky'll be sure to get on the next chapter sometime soon, or whenever. Right after this next screwdriver, of course. Because vodka is good.
Cheers to self-medication! *Passes out*
Intermission: Being a Kid and Growing Up, it's Hard and Nobody Understands
As also inspired by an extremely adorable tumblr. Go check it out if the following subject matter appeals to you. Tell 'em Razzy sent ya.
~ ~ ~
When you've got clear skies on a beautiful autumn day, you take a walk and enjoy it.
I'm pretty sure there's a law somewhere that says you have to. Come to think about it, I was probably the guy who ratified it.
Constitutional Jeremyocracy!
But sometimes nice days are really hard to enjoy. Sometimes you hear a little orange kid sobbing by the edge of a lake. And even more importantly, sometimes you just can't walk away from a crying kid.
I can't.
I didn't.
“Hey, what's up?” I asked as I trotted over to him. “You look like you're thinking about a lot more stuff than someone your age should really bother themselves with.”
Looking up, the lanky unicorn colt wiped at his watery eyes with a hoof and replied, “Huh?”
“Uh, right, so a stranger walks up and asks you how you're doing. Could be creepy, right? Heh, my bad. I don't mean any harm.”
“N-no, it's okay,” the colt said through a sniffle. “You didn't do anything wrong.”
“Alrighty then, I guess that brings me back to the elephant in the room. You look pretty upset. Something wrong?”
Shaking his head, he drooped down onto the grass and sighed, “Something's always wrong... I'm just too stupid to figure it all out.”
Well damn, I wasn't expecting an answer that deep.
“Hey, that's a little depressing coming from a kid,” I said, shuffling awkwardly in place. “What's on your mind... uh...?”
“Snails.”
“Okay, so what's on your mind, Snails?” I inquired again.
“I...” he began, closing his eyes as he searched for what he wanted to say, “it's hard to talk about. And I'm not so good with words.”
With a smirk, I replied, “Well, neither am I. I just pretend to be good with 'em when the spotlight's on me. After that I go back to futzing around with catch phrases and pop culture references.”
After a short pause, Snails sniffled back another urge to cry and asked, “Can you... can you keep a secret?”
“I don't really know what's going on, but already, my lips are locked up,” I assured him with a wink. “I'd give you the key, but I already dug a hole, buried it, then filled in the hole with concrete. I'm thinking of building a shed over top of it or something.”
The small smile that I got from him was worth the awful joke.
Alas, it wasn't to last. Only a second or two later and that smile hitched a ride to places unknown, replaced by one of the most frustrated frowns I've ever seen.
“I just... I don't...” he muttered, trailing off into another bout of silent crying.
“Hey now, it's alright,” I said gently. “Really, I promise. I won't say a thing to anyone. Pinkie Promise, even.”
Looking up at me with tired, reddened eyes, the little guy whimpered, “I... I don't know what I should do.”
“Do about what?”
Standing up, Snails trotted closer to the water's edge and pointed at his reflection.
With another sigh, he said, “About myself.”
That made me scratch my head.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, joining him near the water and staring into the steady ripples.
“I'm... not normal,” he muttered, another tear sliding down his cheek.
“If it helps any, neither am I. Normality is overrated.”
“I wish everypony felt that way,” the orange colt replied, his smile forced and bitter.
“You'd be surprised,” I stated, patting him on the shoulder. “Quite a lot do.”
“I feel... wrong. I try really hard to be normal, to fit in, but it hurts. I don't understand myself. I never have.”
Tilting my head at an angle that would have impressed any owl, I pressed on, “Again, I'm gonna need a bit more info than that. What's wrong?”
“I am! I'm wrong!” Snails shouted, stamping a hoof as the tears came back in full flooding force. “I'm a colt, but I don't feel like a colt! Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I see somepony else, somepony who isn't even me! And it hurts!”
And that's when the kid's problem hit me like a ton of bricks.
Geez, am I even qualified to give out the kind of advice that he needs?
Welp, only one way to find out~
“I... I think I know what you're talking about, Snails.”
Meeting my eyes, he bit his lip and asked, “You do?”
“Yeah... and it's hard, isn't it? Not feeling at home in your own body? I'll bet it is.”
Nodding, Snails sat down on the grass to suppress his shivers and answered, “I wish I was somepony else. I'm... not right. I should have been born differently. Not... not like this!”
After debating it in my head for a moment, I stepped forward and gave him a hug, quietly shushing him.
Because hugs fix everything.
SHUT UP, IT'S TRUE!
“Hey, don't cry. Not again. If you turn on the waterworks again, I might do the same. Look, I... I don't know how that feels, but I know you shouldn't cry about it.”
“Why not?” Snails questioned, slowly calming back down.
“Because you are who you are already. I'm not sure if there's ways to change that here, but I know that there's ways to soldier through it, even if it's painful. So... you're a colt, right? But you want to be a filly?”
Apprehensively, he nodded again and said, “Y-yes...”
“Then you're beating yourself up over nothing,” I continued, releasing him and turning my head to look out across the lake.
“W-what?”
“Be yourself,” I expounded, a strange sense of sagely wisdom overcoming me. “Be the filly that you want to be. Don't let your gender decide that for you. It's your life and your identity, not anyone else's. You can be whoever you'd like, physicality be damned! Wear a dress if it makes you feel better, wear the prettiest damn dress you can find! Eyeliner too! Mascara, blush, lipstick, the whole nine yards!”
“But my parents~
“Will understand,” I interrupted, grinning like an idiot. “If they really love you, they'll understand. Do you think they love you?”
“I... I told my Mom already. It upset her, but I think she understands.”
“And your father?” I questioned.
“I know he loves me...” Snails replied, casting his eyes down at his own hooves, “but I'm afraid.”
Nodding, I offered, “If he loves you, he'll understand too.”
Sometimes it's the simple things that really need to be said.
Sometimes the simple things don't seem so simple.
After pondering what I'd told him for a minute, Snails looked up at me again and asked, “W-what's your name?”
“Um, Jeremy,” I responded, feeling more than a little dumb for having only just now told him who I am. “Jeremy Robin.”
Standing up, the orange colt brushed himself off and smiled.
A real smile this time.
That's more like it, kid.
“Thanks, Jeremy. I... I still need to think about this. A lot. But I think you're right. My parents love me. My Dad loves me. I... I think I can do this.”
Returning his smile with one of my own, I said, “I think you can too.”
“Um, if... if I need to talk again, will you be around?” he asked, turning on the unnecessary puppydog eyes.
“If you need to, yes,” I stated, giving him another pat on the back. “I have plans, but they're irrelevant. If you need someone to talk to, I'll be here. Check out the library if you need to find me. And, hey, Twi makes for a pretty awesome psychiatrist too.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, just smalltalk about the town and the coming Running of the Leaves, but eventually the kid thanked me one last time and excused himself to trot off home. I watched him go and got to thinking to myself.
“I think Gilda was right,” I chuckled. “These ponies are turning me into less and less of a jackass with every passing day.”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in our regularly-scheduled programming, Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies...
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
And thus concludes this very special episode of Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies. I don't think I need to soapbox much more here and ramble on any further about how you should live how you would be best comfortable living, so I'll just conclude with this: Be yourself and damn everyone else who doesn't see the true you in the same light that you do.
A lot of us spend a lot of time torturing ourselves for a lot of reasons (and there goes my “a lot” quota for the decade), but it doesn't have to be that way. There are people you can talk to about your problems. Don't beat yourself up over 'em. You'd make some random guy on the internet who writes pony fanfiction cry. Please don't make me cry, yo.
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Intermission (Chapter Chapter) – Epic Jeremy Time: Punctuating Pancakes for Emphasis, Bitch!
~ ~ ~
This intermission is not even remotely in canon with the rest of the story. All of the other ones so far have seemed kind of dubious, but surprise surprise, they've all still been canon too.
But not this one, this one is just for fun. Because fun kicks ass. Also, I just wanted to screw with everyone by releasing an intermission out of the established six chapter order.
“Welcome to Epic Meal Time, all you beautiful bitches out there, this is Jeremy Robin and the rest of the Epic Meal Crew!” I shouted at the camera, taking a mighty tractor pull of whiskey between sentences. “Today we're going to be making pancakes, waffles, cinnamon rolls, french toast, and then we're gonna pile all that shit together to make a stack that Mount Everest would shit its pants over!”
“Mount Everest?” Twilight piqued. “What and where is that?”
“Irrelevant!” I replied, guzzling another drink straight from the bottle. “It's really tall and this is gonna be taller, because tall things are tasty!”
“That doesn't even make any sens~
“Making sense is for pussies!” I interrupted, turning to face a griffin and her badass pair of sunglasses. “Alright, Muscles Feathers, let's get this party started right! Pass out the shots, there's no way we're cooking a goddamn thing if we're not shithammered already!”
“This is sounding like one bad idea after another,” Twilight groaned.
“Of course it does!” I replied as Muscles approached with a tray of assorted shots. “Now which of these bad boys is the strongest? I have a problem, a drinking problem, and I intend to make it worse!”
Rolling her eyes, the purple unicorn asked, “Do you have to yell?”
“I'm excited and yelling is exciting! You're the one with the brains, you do the math!”
“For the love of~ That's it,” Twilight growled, levitating three shots off of the tray and knocking each back, one by one. “If I'm going to get through this without beating you unconscious, I guess I'm going to have to do it your way.”
“There was never any other way to begin with, now let's get cooking!”
After we finished our shots, we hit the kitchen like it owed us money. Muscles got started on the first layer of our breakfast abomination, the pancakes. They say you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, but we ain't making omelets, we're making a double-bypass heart transplant stack of sugar and fat, motherfuckers. And we broke every egg anyway. All of 'em.
Mixing up some batter with her claws, or talons, or whatever the fuck they are, Muscles then added the two bottles of rum required by our contract before spreading out three giant circles in three separate pans.
“Shot break!” I announced with a glass smashed against the wall, thereby summoning Pinkie Pie from whatever dimension she was in before I'd worked my magic. In her hooves was another tray full of beautiful, multi-colored liver-demolition.
With a wide smile, she grabbed one, downed it, and exclaimed, “I brought everything, including all the alcohols that don't even exist!”
“Those are my favorites!” I screamed, my eyes crossing involuntarily.
Reaching for a glass full of something bright green that smelled like kerosene, I scratched a strike anywhere match across my cheek, lit the drink on fire, and knocked it back. It burned more than taking a bubble bath inside the mouth of an active volcano.
In other words, exactly how I liked it.
“Back to business!”
With the pancakes already practically done, we moved on to the next step and wheeled out a titanium waffle iron made to survive a direct nuclear strike. Pouring in enough alcoholic batter to feed an entire African village for 30 straight Happy Hours, Pinkie licked clean what was left in the mixing bowl and then broke it in half over her knee. Not to be outdone, I took the two halves and broke them in half over my own knee. At some point we ended up with a thousand tiny pieces of plastic, which the pink pony then stuffed into her party cannon and launched into space. I think I heard someone scream in the distance, but I didn't care.
There were more drinks to drink and I was a man on a mission.
“Second shot break!” someone announced, reading my goddamn mind.
Turning around, I watched a tipsy Twilight as she filled a long line of glass soldiers all the way up to their rims.
“That's the spirit!” I yelled, marveling at how I somehow hadn't lost my voice yet.
“I just came to the conclusion that I'd like to forget everything that's going on today, everything,” she replied, inhaling two of the shots in record-breaking time. “So I'm doing exactly that.”
Which brought us to Step 3, cinnamon rolls, baby! Materializing a new mixing bowl from the place between spaces, Pinkie Pie threw in some eggs, flour, yeast, water, vegetable oil, 121 proof rum, a whole bag of sugar, and began stirring it by beating the ever-loving shit out of it with a wooden mallet.
“Stop right there!” commanded our surprise guest star.
Stepping into the kitchen, a white unicorn turned her head slowly, silently judging all of us with a sneer that spoke volumes of intense and unending hatred.
Wordlessly, Vinyl Scratch tore the bowl from Pinkie's hooves and placed it inside the bass drum of a drum kit that I hadn't even noticed up until just now.
“I th-thought you were a DJ, not a drummer,” hiccuped Twilight in between pulls off of a bottle of straight vodka.
“Yeah, you play electronic music,” agreed Muscles Feathers, gracing the universe with a seldom-heard voice that gave Morgan Freeman a fucking run for his money.
“I don't play any kind of music,” Vinyl said as she sat down behind her bitchin' kit. “I am music.” Lifting her own pair of shades long enough to blind everyone else in the room with the light of an exploding star, she returned them before we were all incinerated and added, “I am everything. Now if I were you, I'd plug my ears. I don't want a repeat performance of what happened the last time I lifted a pair of sticks... Or do I?”
Tilting her head, Twilight tossed her emptied bottle off to the side and questioned, “What happened?”
“Not before another shot break,” Twilight cut in, wobbling from side to side as she raided the fridge and returned with a bottle of Absinthe. “Is this stuff strong?”
“It's brewed by the freaking Faerie Queen of the Fair Folk, Hell yes it is!” I responded. “And anyone who needs to melt a sugar cube for theirs shall henceforth be beaten with a golf club every half hour!”
Following that, everyone having decided not to take their shots like a bunch of little pigtail-sporting girl scouts, the dough hit the table and the additional cinnamon hit the dough. With a rolling pin, I steamrolled that shit flat, then began the process of drinking a cup of mouthwash while someone else fucking rolled it.
What, do they expect me to do all the goddamn work? Fuck that.
More mouthwash.
“Pinkie, bake those bastards!” I shouted, my surrounding starting to taste blue all of a sudden.
“Consider them baked!” she replied, throwing open the oven door and placing the delicious sons-a-bitches inside.
Breaking a whiskey bottle over the side of my head for no apparent reason, I turned to Muscles and hollered, “Now where the fuck are Rainbow Dash and Rarity with our motherfucking powdered sugar?!”
“We're here, we're here!” answered a blood covered pegasus as she and an equally red unicorn dragged ten bags of the shit inside.
“Whoa, w-what the... what in Equestria happened to you two?” slurred a now thoroughly wasted Twilight in between giggles and additional drinks.
“The authorities arrived shortly after we absconded the grocer's with these,” Rarity replied like the classy bitch that she is, pointing at their sweet cargo.
“Sucks to be them!” I laughed.
“Sucked to be them,” Rainbow corrected. “They're pretty past tense now.”
“Awesome, then that we can get the fuck back to making this Leaning Tower of Diabetes without worry of being interrupted by anyone other than ourselves!”
Cocking an eyebrow, Rarity inquired, “Why, pray tell, would we interrupt ourselves?”
“Bitch, if you were drunk, I wouldn't have to answer to that question!”
“Is that a challenge, good sir?” the fashionista sneered.
“All day, every day, here at Jeremy's Island Resort and Vodka Spa!”
And so the cooking resumed~
While RD and Rarity handled the french toast, I dragged a shitfaced librarian over to my side of the counter and got to work on a batch of syrup that promised to put every pony on the planet under the proverbial tavern's table.
“I don't even know where I am anymore!” Twilight cheered as she snapped off the necks from two bottles of rum and poured their contents in the general direction of her mouth.
“Then that makes five of us!” I concurred, squeezing four bottles of syrup into a huge pot. “Now gimme the rest of that rum before you finish drinking and/or showering in it, because if this shit doesn't put down an entire pride of lions, it's not strong enough!”
Clamping a lid onto the heavy pot, I moonwalked my way to the other side of the kitchen and threw the whole thing into a centrifuge that the Equestrian Aeronautics Space Administration had been kind enough not to notice was missing. Switching the machine on, I watched it spin around on a Z axis for a few minutes until my fucking face hit the floor.
“You dizzy bitch,” Muscles commented.
Sticking a hoof up into the air, I replied, “Dizziness is next to godliness, now pick me up, motherfucker!”
“Whatever.”
After being helped up, I returned my attention to the centrifuge, shutting it off and removing its contents. Slamming the pot down on the counter alongside all of the other finished dishes, I turned around just in time to come face-to-face with a very frantic looking Rainbow Dash.
“Jeremy, we've got trouble!” she cried. “Everything's starting to cool down! By the time the french toast is done, everything else is going to be as good as frozen!”
“Not on my watch!” I shouted, putting on my war face. “Pinkie Pie, get me my flamethrower!”
“Yay, I was wondering when you'd ask! Lucky for you that I have a few stashed nearby just in case of flamethrower emergencies!”
“What exactly entails a flamethrower emergency, dear?” Rarity questioned, taking a cautious step away from the energetic pink mare.
Stumbling over to Ponyville's premier fashion icon and throwing a foreleg over her shoulders, Twilight rambled, “Y-you never know when... when you'll need to s-set fire to somepony...”
Jumping in for the sole purpose of complicating Rarity's reaction to that statement, Rainbow Dash grinned and asked, “Yeah, what if somepony decided to match one of your new dresses with some accessories from last year's catalog?”
The blood-spattered unicorn's left eye twitched uncontrollably for several silent seconds.
“Kill them... kill them with fire... Kill them all with fire...” she muttered quietly, her pupils shrunken to the size of pinpricks.
Nodding, Twilight fell over sideways and giggled, “Exactly!”
“Everyone, shut up, I'm about to be stupid!” I yelled, hefting the large weapon that Pinkie Pie had somehow pulled out of an empty can of beans 20 times too small.
Lowering a welder's mask to protect my eyes, I clicked off the safety and primed the gasoline pump. After a sufficient amount of pressure built up, I lit the ignition flame and took aim at the still uncooked french toast.
“There's no kill like overkill!” I screamed, releasing a momentary blast of flame for every bit of half a second, tossing the hefty device down immediately thereafter and lighting a cigarette as though nothing had happened.
…
'Cause, c'mon, drunk or not even I knew anything longer than that would burn the shit.
And y'all fuckers had no faith in me. For shame.
“Alright, with that out of the way we should now be ready to~ BACK THE FUN BUS THE FUCK UP, ASSHOLES, IS THAT FUCKING WINE?!” I exclaimed as upon turning to face my team I locked eyes on Rarity's drink, a great feeling of utter betrayal turning my blood to ice. “Get the fuck out of my kitchen, you are not going to be America's next top model!”
“It's my seventh bottle,” she countered simply, grinning.
“I don't care if it's your eleventeenth bott~
Wait, how much time had passed since she and Dash came back with the sugar? 12 minutes max, maybe?
…
…
…
Holy fuck. Is that technically even possible?
“Oh,” I said, the one and only time my thunderous volume escaped me. “That's actually... pretty badass.”
“Well, ya did challenge her, remember?” Rainbow reminded me.
“Indeed, and for future reference you would all do well to remember, you don't become a metropolitan socialite without attending several thousand cocktail parties and wine tastings.”
“Aren't you supposed to spit out the wine?” asked Pinkie Pie as she teleported in another tray of various liver killers without even being prompted.
Nodding, Rarity smirked, “What you're supposed to do and what you actually do oftentimes end up being two entirely different things, darling.”
“F-for example, Carl Sagan, I'm probably supposed to be at th-the... the hospital right now,” Twilight sputtered as she held herself up with the refrigerator’s door handle, “but instead I'm here collecting s-stamps.”
“Jeremy, is she going to be alright?” Rainbow questioned nervously.
“Of course she is!” I replied, taking the tray of french toast and placing it on the counter. “None of this shit is even canon, so by tomorrow she'll be as fine as wine in the summertime!”
Adjusting her shades, Muscles asked, “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I don't even remember what I said, so who cares, you decide! And in the meantime, the rest of us will get this bad motherfucker built! Gentlemen, to your battle stations!”
“You don't want to take another shot break first?” Pinkie inquired, still holding the tray of drinks.
Placing the three pancakes on the main plate, I hastily shouted, “Dammit, Jim, there's no time! I'm a chef, not a doctor! Just splash a few of them at my face and I'll try to catch it!”
“Rodger, Captain, initiating protocol 'Make it Rain',” my pink soldier replied.
Over the course next few minutes, I deftly reversed-dodged streams of solvent-smelling alcohol whilst the rest of my team (and I!) fucking got shit done. On top of the first layer of three pancakes we drizzled a sticky coating of randomly-high-number proof syrup, then on top of that a series of six pieces of quickly melting butter and a blizzard of powdered sugar. After that, onward and upward to the next level, we took our waffles and made another triple layer, coating the top of it in the same drunken diabetic coating as the layer beneath it.
“Muscles, you better have greased the pans more than necessary!” I yelled just as a shot of bourbon missed its mark and hit me in the cheek. “And dammit, Pinkie, I've seen better aim from a little league pitcher!”
“A brick of lard for each pan,” the griffin stoically replied.
Slamming a hoof down on the counter, I roared, “Enough to give me a heart attack?!”
“Enough to give your next of kin a heart attack through blood association alone.”
Good.
Satisfied, I moving on to the cinnamon section and covered the surface of the sugar-saturated waffles with twelve of the little rolls. On top of that dozen, I placed another dozen, and on top of that dozen, yet another. 36 of the motherfuckers, motherfucker! Then came the butter, syrup, and powdered sugar again, an almost gelatinous crust guaranteed to send anyone brave enough to sample it running off in search of their emergency insulin rations.
Well, anyone except for Pinkie Pie.
Finally, nearing the end stretch, we came to the topmost portion of our project, the french fucking toast. Stacking another three layers consisting of four pieces each, we then doused them in syrup, butter, sugar, and another layer of syrup and sugar just to be sure.
Then we all took a step back and stared, wide-eyed at our creation...
My arteries clogged at the mere thought of tasting it.
“So, who gets to eat it?” asked Pinkie Pie, her blue eyes shimmering with pride as she continued to stare.
Grinning, I pulled a walkie-talkie out of a nearby cupboard, clicked the talk button, and triumphantly declared, “Project Pastry Pile has been completed! Release the hounds and report back to base, Agent Apple!”
Off in the distance, a loud “WHAT?!” resounded with the explosive force of three metric tons of dynamite. Seconds later, a hole in the shape of a unicorn was punched straight through the kitchen's wooden door, revealing a wild and twitchy mint green mare.
“HUMAN FOOD!” Lyra shrieked, drooling uncontrollably. “I HEARD THAT THERE'S FOOD MADE BY A HUMAN HERE! SHOW ME WHERE IT IS AND NOPONY GETS HURT!”
Catching on, Rarity feigned shock and swooned backwards into Rainbow Dash's awaiting forelegs, melodramatically crying, “Oh no, please don't eat our beloved breakfast tower! Our human friend finished it for us only seconds ago! Please, have you no heart? Have you no pity?”
“MY HEART IS AS BLACK AND COLD AS THE FAR REACHES OF SPACE, YOU WHORE!” the green unicorn answered, diving face-first into the giant stack that was absolutely certain to kill her 50 times over.
“This has been Epic Meal Time, bitches!” I laughed hysterically, doubling over as I poured whiskey all over my head. Some of it managed to find my mouth.
With her eyes rolling back in her head, Twilight hiccuped again and babbled before blacking out, “Next time, we eat the sun.”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in our regularly-scheduled programming, Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies...
~ ~ ~
Jeremy: Joey, you're stupid. Very, very stupid.
Joey: Stupid like a fox.
Jeremy: Gah, dammit, stop it! You reference things more often than I do!
Joey: I didn't reference anything at all throughout this entire intermission.
Jeremy: Wha~ No, that can't~ That doesn't make any sen~ Ugh! Did you... did you stop taking your meds or something?
Joey: I've never taken them. I flush them down the toilet every time I get back from the pharmacy.
Jeremy: That explains a whole lot. You're fucking crazy, dude.
Joey: Crazy like a stupid fox!
Jeremy: *Facehoofs* You frustrate me.
Joey: Sucks when the tables are turned, doesn't it?
Jeremy: This is more like the entire kitchen being turned. Upside down. At a slight angle. Outside. During day and night at the same time.
Joey: Fuck yeah!
Jeremy: *Groans* Someone please kill me...
Joey: Oh, hey, wanna see something neat before that?
Jeremy: What? Are you going to be even more annoying or something? How could you possibly be any more annoying than you're being right now?
Joey: Hehe, watch. *Starts typing*
*Drunk Twilight stumbles into the scene*
Twilight: *Wrapping a hoof around Jeremy's neck, grinning at him* Heeeeeeeeey there, handsome~
Jeremy: Oh God, oh God, no no no! This is cheating, Joey, this is fucking cheating!
Joey: What are you talking about, neither of you are even in a relationship yet. How can it be cheating?
Jeremy: YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, GODDAMMIT!
Twilight: C'mon, cutie, let's just ignore him and head back to the library. I'll show you the private section that nopony under the age of 18 is allowed to browse.
Joey: You do that, hun, I'll just leave you two little lovebirds alone.
Jeremy: I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS AND PISS ON YOUR GRAVE! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I AM NOT YOUR COSMIC SHIP-TEASE TOY!
*Twilight drags a flailing Jeremy off with her telekinesis*
Joey: Oh yes you are. Hehe.
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
You have absolutely no idea how much tequila went into this one. Now back to the actual story.
That is all.
Edit!: Except that's not all!
Apparently, I've received enough PM's to question my sobriety while writing this... uh... stuff? Honestly, attaching a greater word than "stuff" to an intermission like this would be so wrong that not even I could forgive myself without the help of a rimshot and a cartoony sound effect. So, the link added in the beginning is me, Joseph Raszagal, being drunk and stupid to a song about being drunk and stupid.
I hope you're happy.
The song is "Drinking Hymn of the Republic", by Matt Wixson. If any of you reading this happen to live in Michigan, be sure to tell him that he used to be fat but got skinnier. I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Also, listen to his music. It's pretty cool.
He's a pretty cool dude doing some pretty cool stuff. Also, I hit on him once really, really awkwardly in New Orleans. Because I'm awkward. Still, the fact remains, he's a bro.
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Nineteen – Decisions, Decisions... and a Few More Decisions
~ ~ ~
Sometimes I feel like I'm in a post-modern art flick. Seriously, man, can all of this stuff actually happen to one guy and his friends? Shit is weird.
To elaborate, I think it's pretty clear by now that bridges and I have kind of a love-hate relationship going on. Mostly hate. The thing is, I wasn't expecting any of that to ever go beyond the merely metaphorical and become fucking real. However, as time has tested and told me, my expectations seem to exist purely to be thrown straight out a fifth story window. During a lightning storm.
Cue scene~
“Are. You. Fucking. Serious?!” I shouted, throwing my hooves up into the air in frustration. “I swear, man, these bastards are fucking following me! I mean, seriously, what the fuck is it with me and bridges these days?!”
Turning to face me and raise an eyebrow, Shining Armor asked, “What are you talking about?”
Pointing at the demolished bridge right in front of us, the bridge that we were supposed to cross in order to get back to the palace, I wrestled down my anger and sighed, “That. That thing. Bridges, dude. They just... they're always... I... dammit, I sound insane right now, don't I?”
“A little,” he chuckled.
Rolling my eyes, I grumbled to myself, “Stupid bridges, you're making me look bad.”
Shrugging, the white stallion stated, “It's not that big a deal. There's more than one path to the palace. All this means is that we'll have to take a slightly longer route.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I replied with a snort. “Sorry about that little episode, by the way.”
Said little episode had actually lasted somewhere around five minutes...
“Again, it's not a big deal,” he laughed. “Just try to get a better handle on your suspension of disbelief next time, not everything in the world is out to annoy you.”
Oh God, now he's doing it too! Enough about the bridges! I mean it, I might join a demolition crew just so I can get a shot at knocking a few down, jeez!
“Look, everybody's got issues, I just seem to broadcast mine all the time,” I groused, tapping at the ground in irritation. “I guess my mental filter that we're all supposed to have in our heads is on the fritz.”
“Or it was never there to begin with,” he snickered, holding a hoof in front of his muzzle.
“Or that.”
~ ~ ~
“So, it's nice to see you again and all,” Shining Armor began as we navigated our way down the bustling city streets, ponies milling about around us in all directions, “but what really brought you up to Canterlot today? The Princess got your letter and forwarded it to me, but all it actually said was that you'd be showing up in a couple of hours. Anything specific that you wanted to do here?”
Shaking my head to clear it, I stopped and looked the stallion in the eyes, “Uh, yeah, actually. I wanted to ask you something. Something important that I don't want any of the girls to know about yet. It's kind of a secret.”
“Okay, and that secret is?” he questioned just before suddenly shifting tracks. “Wait, no, you know what? Before you answer that, you're not going to just waltz into the Princess' Day Court and interrupt everything again, are you?”
“First off, no, I don't think that's in today's schedule,” I answered smugly. “Second off, political meetings don't need me to facilitate their implosions. They're pretty good at doing that all by themselves.”
Suppressing another laugh, Shining said, “Granted, but back to the subject at hoof. What is it you'd like to ask me?”
As we resumed our pace, I took the lead and guided us over towards a wooden bench next to a secluded little food stand. Taking a seat, I motioned for the Guard Captain to join me and then spent the next minute and a half fidgeting with my hooves. Being an amicable sort, Shining Armor waited patiently for me to dig up the courage necessary for me to explain myself.
“Before I get to that, can I ask you this first? How much free time do you normally get to yourself?” I questioned quietly, almost thankful for all of the metropolitan noise surrounding us.
“Huh? What's that got to do with anything?”
“Plenty, yo. Just... uh... please, answer the question.”
Shrugging again, the stallion licked his lips in concentration and eventually said, “Enough, I guess. I'm here with you right now, aren't I?”
“True, but did Celestia give you the day off because I'd be here?”
Blushing, he turned his head away and admitted, “Heh, caught me, huh?”
“Pretty much what I was thinking. Even though I've been doing great as of late, I get the feeling that she's been pulling as many stings as possible to make me more comfortable.”
Letting out a huff, Shining Armor leaned back into his seat and argued, “Can't say that I can debate that, but still, I'd like to think I get enough personal time. Life as a guard keeps me busy, sure, but it isn't as though I don't have a life outside of commanding the troops. But again, why do you ask?”
“The thing is,” I started... only to steadily drift back into silence as my nerves caught up with me once more.
Looking around in hopes of finding something that could help me calm the fuck down, my eyes eventually fell upon the food stand situated a few scant feet from us. With a dejected sigh, I got back up from my seat and paced over to it, pulling out a few random bits from my saddlebags and browsing the menu. After ordering a daisy sandwich and trading an awkward smile with the vendor's much more genuine one, I planted by butt back down on the bench and took a bite. The flavor was amazing, as I'd come to expect from a majority of pony cuisine, and it did wonders at easing my cluttered mind. After a minute or so of chowing down, I brushed the crumbs off of my lap and returned my focus to the stallion seated next to me.
“Well,” I mumbled, taking in a deep breath to steady myself and collect my thoughts, “I... um... I'd like to sign up.”
Eying me curiously, Shining Armor piqued, “What?”
“I'd like to join the Royal Guard,” I forced myself to elaborate.
That stopped him dead in his tracks.
Slowly, the alabaster stallion sized me up, from my quaking hooves all the way up to my flattened ears. Closing his eyes for a moment, I watched his mental gears spin into motion and silently prayed to myself that I didn't really look as frightened as I certainly felt.
I knew I did, but hey, we can all dream.
“The guard, eh?” he questioned, his smile gentle as his eyes opened back up. “Well, I have to give it to you, I wasn't expecting that one. Are you absolutely sure?”
“I've got plans that would require some time to myself,” I divulged, feeling no less anxious despite the comforting hoof that found its way onto my back, “which is why I asked you what I did first, but yes, I'm sure.”
“Any specific reasons?”
Fidgeting in place, I gulped and answered, “Y-yeah, some. I still have a loaded basket full of problems that I find myself thinking about every now and then, dealing with... a few of the things that I left behind. The things that I can't go back to. It's... sort of hard for me to talk about. In all honesty, I've pretty much been trying to ignore it entirely for a long while now. The whole 'out of sight, out of mind' schtick, you know? I don't even think I've talked with Twilight about it, even though I'm sure she's been meaning to bring the subject back up at some point. I mean, I've been feeling a lot better over these past months, almost perfect even, but I can tell as clear as day that she and the rest of the others are all constantly walking on eggshells whenever they're around me, even if they've been doing a great show of pretending not to be. The word 'almost' back there sums it up completely, really.”
“I'm guessing you're referring to your addiction?” Shining surmised.
Casting my eyes down to the ground, I briefly considered counting the cracks in the pavement before pulling together my courage and continuing, “Exactly. I'd... I'd like to think that I'm better now, but addictions aren't something that can just be cured. That's not how they work. You don't get better all of a sudden, you manage the addiction and fight the urges... all the time.”
“I've dealt with it with a few of the guards under my command before,” he stated softly, giving me a knowing look. “I can't say that I understand the stress or pain of it firsthoof, but I have seen others fight the good fight against it. The word 'struggle' comes to mind.”
“And that's just it!” I blurted out, jumping up and pacing back and forth in front of the stallion. “I know I won't be able to just magically get over it and shove it out of my mind permanently, but... I dunno... I'd like to get the strength to fight it off better. I've been really lucky in that don't have the first clue as to where I could find all of my old crutches, but given enough time I know I'd be able to. And that... that fucking scares me, man. I know that someday I'll be able to locate all of the things that nearly destroyed me, and if I went back to that sort of life, this time it wouldn't just crush me, it'd crush everyone that I care about too. I... I let down someone that really cared about me a long time ago and I don't want to be that guy again, I don't want to do the same thing to Twilight and the rest of the girls. I want guidance, I want~
Stuffing his hoof in my mouth, Shining Armor eyed me fiercely and said, “To be whipped into shape?”
Falling back onto my rump, I sat there in front of the stallion and heaved a heavy sigh.
Looking up at him, I swallowed back what felt like the zillionth lump in my throat and silently nodded.
“Hmm,” he mused aloud, trotting a slow circle around me. “Judging by what I've heard and what you've told me, you're not averse to hard work. You do have a bit of a cursing problem and, judging by all the interactions I've seen you in thus far, you seem to harbor little respect for any form of authority.”
“Um, can I throw in my two cents involving that last one?” I asked, my grin wavering somewhere between forced and super-forced.
“Go ahead.”
“It's... it's not that I hate authority or anything,” I argued, thumping a hoof against my head as I searched for the right words. “I just... I've had a problem with respecting authority that I didn't feel was respectable. I know it sounds like I couldn't give a flying fuck whenever I open my fat mouth and let loose a series of expletives that'd make every grandmother 20 miles away blush, but I don't do it on purpose. I just kind of talk like that. It's not something that I couldn't~ I mean, I can... I can get better about it. Really, I can.”
“Oh, if I have any say in the matter then I'm sure about that.”
Smiling sheepishly, I questioned, “So do you think it'd work?”
“You as a guard, you mean?”
“Yeah,” I replied, my tone unintentionally imploring.
“Honestly, and this isn't me boasting here,” he began, his expression easing up several degrees, “I feel like I've made soldiers out of lesser ponies before, sorts that would have been better off serving time in prison rather than serving the Princesses. I don't see why I couldn't do the same with you.”
I felt my smile growing already, but Shining must have seen it, because his glare very quickly returned.
“But that doesn't mean it would be easy. For either of us. This is a big thing here, Jeremy. If you want to join the guard to toughen yourself up, that's great, but neither I nor any of the mares and stallions serving alongside you will pull any punches. None. And we'll do everything in our power to keep you on track too. You'll toil, you'll hate us sometimes, maybe even all the time, but I can promise that what you're after you will find. You will become stronger, you'll just hate the process necessary in getting there. Do you understand?”
“Crystal clear,” I said as firmly as I could.
“Good, because I don't want there to be any confusion,” the white unicorn finished, chuckling. “Still, I'd like to repeat myself, this is a very big decision. I think... you'd best give it a little more thought, alright?”
Relenting, I offered, “I've given it a lot of that already, but I suppose a little more couldn't hurt.”
“You did say you had some plans laid out, didn't you?” he questioned, smiling. “Are you sure that this wouldn't get in the way?”
“That's why I asked how much time you get to yourself, remember?” I answered, finally pulling myself up off of the ground. “I know boot camp, or whatever you guys call it here, wouldn't leave me with many days to spend futzing around with my shit, but once I made active duty I would, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then no, it wouldn't get in the way,” I stated, the fresh feeling of certainty returning. “I can wait a little while to get into gear.”
Taking another moment to stretch, Shining Armor smirked, “This really has spent a lot of time on your mind, hasn't it?”
“Heh, does it show?” I snickered.
“In the best way,” he replied. “So, you ready to resume out trek?”
“Palace, ho!” I declared, taking a stance as though we were readying to run a marathon. “Lead the way, Cap'n!”
To which he responded by breaking out into a full gallop, turning his head back to me long enough to stick his tongue out and shout, “Then get your flank in gear, private!”
Fuck me and my stupid brain, we were in a marathon!
“Get back here, ya cheater!” I yelled back, dashing off to follow him. “Only dirty players take head-starts!”
~ ~ ~
Now, if there's one thing that I'm really, really good at, it's cardio. If you remember as well as I do, I was a member of the track and field team back during my high school days. I could run like a fucking deer and there were few that could catch me.
Made games of manhunt and tag that much more unfair. Heh.
As a pony... I was even faster. Unfortunately, not quite as fast as a military man.
“W-wow,” gasped Shining, collapsed into a sweaty pile only a foot or so from me, “I didn't think you could keep up like that.”
“You're j-just lucky I'm out of practice,” I replied, my grin no less wide despite my mild urge to vomit. “Besides, AJ's been working me like a mule.”
“Hey, w-watch the racism.”
Oh, crap, that's right.
“S-sorry, euphemism... or m-metaphor... or whatever from my world. Can't think straight right now. Remind me to apologize b-better later.”
“W-will do.”
After a decent while spent recovering from our run, we both managed to pull ourselves back up and locked eyes.
“Gotta say, if you can push me to race like that, you might just make it,” Shining Armor laughed.
Grinning, I retorted, “I'll take whatever compliments I can get, but now that I'm thinking about it~
I looked up at the palace looming over us, gold and marble gleaming in the light.
“I planned this trip out in hopes of telling you what I already did. I just didn't think I'd have the gumption to say it all before we actually got here. Now that we've arrived... I don't really know what to do. You told me to think on it for a little while longer, so... what now? I'll stick to my word and give it some more thought, but we're kind of here already. If I'm not going to be signing some papers for a spot in the army, what should we do now?”
Thumping a hoof against his horn in thought, Shining replied, “Well, usually if I'm off-duty I like visit the pub in the barracks. But, uh, that might not be the best idea given... obvious circumstances.”
“True, can't really argue with tha~
Ding. Lightbulb.
Really, really bright lightbulb.
Wow, why the Hell hadn't this come to me sooner? I mean, back when AJ first chewed out her brother about breaking out that bottle of hooch while I was around, I was pretty nervous. The thing was, I wasn't nervous about the alcohol, I was scared shitless that a murder was about to take place. And since then the girls have drank around me more than a few times, even if only a little bit. Rarity with her wine and champagne, Pinkie and AJ, once the latter was comfortable with it anyway, with their cider.
And I hadn't really been tempted at all. Granted, alcohol wasn't my addiction of choice back on Earth anyway, but addictive personalities can get latched onto just about any substance, doesn't really matter which. Still, this was a gamble that I had to take. I'd just laid my heart bare for this guy, all my worries about the things that I've done and the things that I'm still to this day afraid of.
But living in fear is no fucking way to live. No fucking way at all.
Hello, everyone. My name is Jeremy Robin and I'm an addict.
...
Eh, a recovering one, but an addict all the same.
Setting my jaw firm, I looked at the white stallion and grinned. It was time to face my demons and take back control.
“Let's go,” I said simply. “I could go for a couple drinks.”
Backing up and very nearly stumbling, Shining Armor's eyes widened as he said, “You're... you're kidding, right?”
“Nope. Not in the slightest.”
“A couple drinks could lead to a couple more. And then a couple more after that.”
“But they won't.”
“And you know that how?”
Cracking my neck, I cast my eyes up towards the magnificent palace that I had arrived in, the home of the princesses who thought that my pitiful little life was worth saving.
“You remember what I said back there?” I questioned, my eyes still on the gleaming gold and white building. “Some smacking around in training to be a guard would help a lot, but I don't think that's where I should start if I'm going to deal with this. I need to do it my way, the Jeremy Robin way. I'll have a few drinks, then I'll cut myself off. For the first time, I'll say no.”
“You're sure you can do that?” he asked, his tone uncertain.
Nodding the affirmative, I smirked, “Definitely. I have to if I'm going to stop being so fucking scared of this potentially ruling my life all over again. Besides, you'll be there too, right? You can be my chaperone. If you see me cheating and going for more, pull me out of the bar and beat the shit out of me.”
“I really will, you know,” the Guard Captain stated, a steely edge in his voice. “Twilight cares about you a lot. She wants you to get over this hill, I'm just not sure if this is the right way to go about doing it.”
Staring straight into his eyes, I smiled and assured him, “I'm at the crest of it. Just a little ways to go from there. I... I think I can do it too. I used to never think like that, believe in myself I mean. But things have changed. I've changed. I just need to prove to myself how much I have.”
Closing his eyes, Shining sighed, “If she finds out, she's going to be angry. Very, very angry.”
“Well, duh,” I said with a shrug. “And I fully plan on telling her. I'll take the rage as it comes.”
A small silence settled over the two of us as the alabaster stallion sized me up once again. This time, though, I wasn't nervous. Not in the slightest.
I had it in me. I could do this.
After settling on a grin, apparently Shining Armor agreed.
“Alright then,” he chuckled wryly as he turned towards a different path through the palace gardens, “this way.”
~ ~ ~
A two drink limit. That's what I had decided upon.
Options, though, they were aplenty.
My first choice was a mug of cider, imported from the Apple Family orchards and everything. A single sip was all it took to understand exactly why Rainbow Dash was such a fan. It was damn hard to detect the alcohol in it at all, the stuff was as sweet as could be. Had I not already known what it was, I would have just made the blind assumption that it was some of the most fucking delicious, completely non-boozeaholic apple juice in the world.
And damn if it didn't deliver the most comfortable, satisfying belch of my life.
“Good, eh?” Shining laughed, enjoying a mug of his own.
“Let's just say that I'm officially a fan.”
“Yeah, you and everypony this side of the Badlands.”
“I have to ask though, I thought this stuff was in high demand and sold out really quick. Judging by Rainbow's story, it's pretty much impossible to get some a single day after their big sale.”
“Guard privileges. For a slightly higher price, we get a whole shipment of their finest. Helps to keep morale up.”
Eh, I could follow that logic. Business and all.
“So, what do you think my second and final swig should be?” I inquired, browsing the fully-stocked shelf behind the bar counter.
Already well into his fourth mug (yeah, some chaperone, right?), the stallion pointed a hoof towards a blood red bottle and grinned.
“It's called Dragon's Blood. Made by the dragons themselves. Not sure why they'd give it a name like that if it's their drink, but then again, there's a lot about dragons that I'm not sure about. If you can stomach a shot of that without coughing, I'll give you 20 bits. After that, you can take the train back to Ponyville with the knowledge that you're a greater stallion than most.”
You challenging me, Shining Armor?
Oh, it's on. Challenge fucking accepted.
“One shot of Dragons Blood!” I called out, slamming a hoof down on the counter for dramatic effect.
That was apparently a secret signal for every guard pony in the building to turn and stare. All eyes, and I mean all of 'em, were officially on me.
The barkeep rolled his own eyes, likely having seen this test of manhood many times before, but strode over, popped open the bottle, and poured me one all the same.
Now, before we get to the drinking, I'd like to tell you what this “liquor” looked like. Exactly like the bottle, pure fucking crimson.
“Jeremy, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Shut up, me. I've already dug my grave, it's time to either lay in it or dance on it like a champ.
Lifting the shotglass, my mind traced its way back to my chugging contest with Applejack. I'd soldiered through that, but there had been some coughing involved in the end. A lot of coughing.
This time I had to poker face my way through the whole shebang.
“To the sun, the moon, and a new start!” I declared, knocking the shot back in one swift go.
OH MY GOD WHO ON EARTH WOULD INVENT THIS WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD DRINK THE EQUIVALENT OF HELLFIRE IN LIQUID FORM WHAT'S THE POINT WHAT'S THE PURPOSE THIS IS JUST RED TORTURE STORED IN A BOTTLE THAT SHOULD HAVE MELTED THE MOMENT IT WAS FILLED!
My eyes watered. My throat burned. Every synapse in my brain fired in rebellion of what I had just ingested.
But despite my face likely have turned every color of the rainbow twice...
...
...
...
I didn't cough.
There was much rejoicing. The barkeep even refunded the bits that Shining used to pay for the drink.
Jeremy Goddamn Robin, bitches. But oh sweet merciful Christ was it going to hurt to pee the next day. I could tell.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twenty – The Magical Process of Magical Training... Because Magic...
~ ~ ~
Jeremy: So, this latest chapter has me wondering what I'm going to do with myself. Should I tinker around with my electronics and try to become the next pony Tesla, or should I join the Royal Guard? Maybe do both and stretch myself really thin like I've been planning? Any suggestions, yo?
Joey: Maybe stop being so meta.
Jeremy: Shut up, you know you love it. Besides, this is what you get for throwing Twilight at me after that whole Epic Drinking Time whatever.
Joey: No, that's what you get for being such a whiny little fucker.
Jeremy: Hey, if I'm an expy of you, that makes you the whiny little fucker. Furthermore, that means you've essentially been shipteasing your audience with you and Twilight. Have fun sailing that boat, Skipper.
Joey: *Stunned silence*
Jeremy: Sucks, dunnit?
Joey: *Slams head into desk* Can you please just go away? I don't feel like having an argument right now.
Jeremy: Technically, you're not. Not really, anyway. You're arguing with a character partly based on yourself.
Joey: That is... a very complex thing for me to be thinking about. It's past midnight and I have a lot of Captain in me. Can we just, you know, not have an existential crisis right now?
Jeremy: Eh, alright. Laters, Raz. *Departs while humming the FiM opening theme*
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Twenty – The Magical Process of Magical Training... Because Magic
~ ~ ~
Okay, so I owe Shining a couple of bits. It wasn't really a bet or anything, but he fucking called it when he said that Twilight would be pissed.
Really, really, extra, with sprinkles on top pissed. Maybe add a cherry to that. A very irate cherry with a horn and the power to lift you off of the ground.
Okay, I kind of lost that metaphor, but you got the idea.
It took about two days for her to finally relent, at the very least commending me on sticking to my word and stopping myself at two drinks. I can't say that she was too keen on the idea of me drinking again, but I explained to her the method behind my madness, which seemed to help a little more as well.
But revenge, as they say, is a dish best served often.
And fucking serve it to me she did. While I was still granted permission to go about doing things my own way, I was given a strict warning to stay away from the hard stuff.
Still can't get over the fact that Equestria even has the hard stuff, by the way. I mean, really, ponies snorting angel dust and chasing the purple dragon? A hard pill to swallo~
Oh, for fuck's sake. I'll never be able to escape these puns. I'm doing it without even realizing it.
Ugh, so, getting back on track, the wrath of the purple one. In order to keep me moving in the right direction, Twilight allowed me the freedom to enjoy a nice cold one every so often, but on one condition.
It was time to begin my magical training.
In her words, my extreme magical training. Emphasis on the obvious.
You should have seen the glint in her eyes when she said that too. It was like staring into the endless darkness of a black hole. I was halfway down the street by the time she finished her sentence, but that goddamn teleporting. Shit ain't fair. How am I supposed to compete with Nightstalker from the X-Men?
So, with no avenues of escape available, I surrendered myself to my fate and prepared for the arcane equivalent of boot camp.
~ ~ ~
“T-Twilight... if I try to h-hold this up any longer... I think I'm gonna h-herniate myself,” I said through gritted teeth as I levitated an entire sofa above my head. “N-not to mention... the whole g-getting squished possibility.”
“Levitation is the most basic and primary spell utilized by unicorns everywhere,” she quipped offhand, not even facing me.
“M-maybe to you, Cap'n... b-but I'm kind of the odd g-guy out,” I huffed back, the large piece of furniture wobbling in my magical grasp. “D-didn't even have... this th-thing when I got here.”
“Bring together your focus and clear your mind,” spoke the zebra as she sipped her tea from her seat across from my lavender drill instructor. “The task at it's core is much less difficult you'll find.”
Yeah, thanks for the tip, Yoda.
And yes, I know I've made that reference before, but 'cmon.
“Alright, I think you've held it up there for long enough,” Twilight eventually snickered, shaking her head. “Take a break and catch your breath. Power and strength training aside, we still have to work on your precision. Delicate use of magic is just as important as moving boulders or fallen trees from the road.”
Lowering the sofa as carefully as I could, I immediately fell backwards onto it and sighed.
“Does that mean I have to go get my guitar again?” I asked, burying myself beneath a comforter. “I'm telling you, Twi, I wasn't even good with that thing back when I had hands. It was a phase.”
“A very useful phase,” she countered, her tone light. “As I recall, I mentioned playing the violin during the slumber party, didn't I? Well, while I couldn't in good faith call myself a musician, practicing with it did wonders for my lessons in telekinetic control.”
“Great, so now I'm going to be an engineer guard guitarist,” I mumbled from inside my cushiony tomb. “We gonna add astronaut to that too? Maybe princess?”
“Princess Jeremy Robin, the first pony to build and then play an electric guitar on the moon!” chirped Pinkie Pie as she bounded into the library.
Digging myself out, I eyed the pink mare and quickly took notice of the tray full of drinks balanced on her back.
“Sarsaparilla?” I asked, my mouth watering.
“Yep!” she replied, hoofing a bottle over to me before joining Twilight and Zecora at their table.
Taking a hearty swig from the bottle, I licked my lips and commented, “Too bad it's not Sunset Sarsaparilla though.”
I should have expected what came next.
“Ha, as if! It's a long walk to Nevada, you know!”
But no... Wha~ How in the... No, no, I can't even~
Cutting off my train of thought, the baker bounced back over to me and asked, “So, how's the wizarding going? Learn how to make mustaches yet?”
“Mustaches,” I deadpanned.
Blushing, my purple mentor answered for me, “Heh, number 25. Unless you're asking Spike, it's not a very useful one.”
“Pfft,” Pinkie scoffed, suddenly wearing a curly mustache of her own, “you just don't get it the way we do.”
Pinkie, I'm not sure that anybody gets anything the way you do.
“Okay, so music time,” I said after downing the rest of my delicious drink. “Try not to make fun of me for accidentally imitating the sounds of a cat screaming, alright?”
“If any skill with the instrument you once had, then I am certain that you will not be that bad,” assured the sagely zebra.
I quirked my eyebrows as high as they could go.
20 minutes later proved that such sages weren't always right. Then again, I'd say it sounded more like a dog growling, but eh, semantics.
Point being, it was bad. Bad bad bad.
“Wow, and I thought my hands were clumsy,” as muttered as I looked down at my old acoustic. “So, um... anyone up for an encore?”
“Actually, why don't you let your Auntie Pinkie Pie take over?” the party planner offered as she hopped over to me.
“Auntie?” I asked.
“You and Fluttershy both, Jeremy,” Twilight snickered as she tossed aside the four pages of musical notations that I had very thoroughly butchered.
“I'll show ya how it's done!” Pinkie cheered, immediately launching into something way, way more familiar than it should have been.
“Here come ol' flattop, he come groovin' up slowly,” the baker sang, her normally high pitch brought down to accent the mellow song. “He got joo-joo eyeball, he one holy roller.”
With a wide smile, I sidled up beside her and joined in as soon as I could, “He got hair down to his knee, got to be a joker he just do what he please.”
“What's going on?” Twilight inquired, tilting her head.
Something awesome, Twi.
Just... please, just let it happen. Let me have this.
“He wear no shoeshine, he got toe-jam football,” Pinkie continued, her eyes closed as she rocked her head to the beat. “He got monkey finger, he shoot Coca-Cola – He say 'I know you, you know me', one thing I can tell you is you got to be free!”
Together, the pink pony and I both jumped up and belted, “Come together! Right now! Over me!”
Lack of hands or not, nothing was gonna stop me from thumping out a drum beat against the table. And lo and behold, not a fucking thing did.
Swinging from side to side, Pinkie Pie's mane bobbed like a giant tuft of cotton candy as she sang, “He bag production, he got walrus gumboot, he got Ono sideboard, he one spinal cracker!”
Cutting in, I pulled a spin on my rear hooves and added, “He got feet down below his knee, hold you in his armchair you can feel his disease!”
And again, together, “Come together! Right now! Over me!”
At some point, my two tutors ceased being confused and instead started nodding their heads along as well. Pacing over to Twilight as my pink partner handled the extended chorus, I pulled her into the center of the floor and span her around. Giggling, she shoved me to the side just as my next verse came up, “He rollercoaster, he got early warning, he got muddy water, he one mojo filter! He said one and one and one is three!”
“What's he got?!” Pinkie practically shouted.
Ginning, I replied in tune, “Got to be good lookin' 'cause he's so hard to see!”
“Come together! Right now! Over me!”
Flopping down onto the floor, there was just no way I could hold back the laughter.
Magical training... heh, right.
Turning my head, I saw Pinkie flashing me a sly grin. It didn't take long to put two and two together, especially as she passed the guitar back to me.
“Your turn!” she giggled.
With everyone in the room staring at me, albeit quite a bit more merrily than academically this time, I pushed myself back up and brought my magic to a focus. Biting my lower lip, I dared to strum.
My eyes widened.
Twilight's eyes widened.
Zecora's eyes widened.
Pinkie Pie just kept on smiling.
“See?” the party pony said as she bounced out of the room. “Training's all well and good, but if you're not having any fun with it then you're not going to get anywhere!”
As the energetic mare hopscotched out of view, I turned to Twilight.
“Did I just produce an actual chord?”
“I think so.”
“Did I just produce an actual chord by not trying at all and instead... just screwing around?”
“I think so.”
Stifling a cough, as well as a sizable grin, Zecora quipped, “Though it still seems a tad excess, it would appear that you were not far off with first guitarist and princess.”
...
...
...
HOW IS THIS MY LIFE?! AM I ON CANDID CAMERA?!
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twenty One – Wherein a Mint Green Mare Busts Down My Door to Demand My Attention...
Wherein a Mint Green Mare Busts My Door Down to Demand My Attention
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Twenty One – Wherein a Mint Green Mare Busts My Door Down to Demand My Attention
~ ~ ~
You know, some days you can just open the front door and grab the newspaper without getting tackled full-force by a pint-sized rainbow pegasus.
Lying on the floor and struggling to catch my breath after getting the wind knocked the fuck out of me, I ruminated over the fact that this was clearly not going to be one of those days.
"Rainbow, did I ask to get steamrolled?" I grumbled as I dusted myself off. "I am not asphalt."
"YeahsorryaboutthatJeremyIjusthadtomakeitherereallyquickandohweshouldreallyhidesomewhererightnow!" she blurted, punctuation be damned.
Shifting my eyes back and forth, I closed the door and very cautiously said, "I think I caught the tail end of that. We have to hide. So... um... okay, why do we have to hide?"
A loud thumping on the door that I'd just closed was my answer.
Turning to face Rainbow Dash, I motioned my head towards the door.
"You burst into here, knock the crap out of me, then tell me that we need to vamoose. Now it sounds like someone's trying to chop the whole goddamn tree down. What's going on, kid?"
"I know you're in there!" came a feminine, but waaaaaaay too enthusiastic voice. "You can't run from me!"
Well fuck, I think my Chris Hansen sense is tingling all of a sudden. Losing a bit of my anger, I instead took the big brother approach.
"Is everything alright, Rainbow?" I asked quietly, kneeling down to meet her eyes. "Do I need to go get Pinkie Pie?"
Shaking her head rapidly, the filly pulled her Gameboy out of her saddlebags before depositing them on the floor and said, "She's after this and she's crazy!"
Okay, so scratch To Catch a Predator. More like To Catch a Nintenkid.
Hey, don't look at me like that. The fanboys can get pretty nutty sometimes when you go and rile 'em up. Check out any big video game expo if you don't believe me.
"Please, please, please, I have to see it!" shouted the voice again. "I've never seen anything like it, you have to give it to me! I need to take it apart! Please!"
"No, it's mine!" Rainbow hollered in return, clutching the portable game system to her chest. "Go find your own!"
"I've never seen that thing before! There aren't any others! I have to have it!"
Dammit, this is stupid. I never signed a contract saying I had to deal with psychos trying to steal from little kids that used to be adults. That'd just sound... fucking nuts.
Know what I mean?
Anger officially on the rise again.
“Alright, Rainbow, get behind me,” I warned her. “I've been to ComiCon. I'll handle this.”
Reaching out with my magic, I bit my lower lip as I forced my aura to surround the handle. Turning it, I opened the door. Immediately thereafter, I was tackled to the ground for the second time that morning, this time by a mint green blur.
Rage Level: 20 %
“Where is it, where is it?!” she exclaimed in a frenzy, lifting my hooves and flipping me around like I was her own personal ragdoll.
“H-hey, watch it, lady!” I barked, shoving her off of me. “Touching comes after dinner and a movie, not before!”
Rage Level: 40 %
Unfortunately, in the process of extricating myself from her green grasp I'd inadvertently tossed her towards a very concerned-looking Rainbow Dash. The wild mare was rooting through the filly's discarded saddlebags in seconds. To be honest, I wasn't even sure I saw her as she pounced on them. Chick was fucking quick.
“Where, where, where?!” she yelled.
“Why, why, why?!” I yelled back.
Rage Level: 60 %
“Because!” she screamed, her tail thrashing back and forth as she lost patience with the bags and just dumped their contents out onto the floor.
“Bitch, that's not even a real answer!”
Rage Level: 80 % - Warning, Jeremy is reaching critical mass.
As if finally registering that somebody was pissed and shouting at her, she craned her neck to face us from her position looming over the pile of stuff that wasn't even hers to loom over.
And it was then that the psychotic pony finally caught sight of her prize.
Rainbow was still holding it... meaning the filly was about to get smashed into tiny bits by somewhere around one hundred pounds of insane mare.
Zooming off into the kitchen like a bullet, the little pegasus barricaded herself beneath the dinning table and presumably awaited her imminent doom.
She didn't really need to though. She'd forgotten something specific.
Or maybe I just hadn't mentioned it before.
Either way, let's just say that it's not a good idea to mess with kids while I'm around.
Eye twitch...
Rage Level: 100 % - Warning, Jeremy has reached critical mass.
Jumping forward as the green pony attempted to pursue her prey, I landed on top of her and decided that the best course of action to end this whole fiasco would be to scare the fucking shit out of her.
Classic combat tactic: Match crazy with more crazy.
“BITCH, IF YOU DON'T COOL YOUR JETS RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND, I WILL GO COO-COO FOR COCOA PUFFS ALL OVER YOUR SKINNY ASS! SHIT WILL BE REAL! SHIT WILL BE INTENSE! THIS LIBRARY WILL BECOME 'NAM, I WILL BECOME CHARLIE, AND I'LL BE ALL OVER THE GODDAMN PLACE SNIPING YOUR WHOLE PLATOON! MOTHERFUCKER, YOU'LL BE PUTTING AGENT ORANGE IN YOUR BOWL FULL OF BALANCED BREAKFAST, AND ONCE THAT'S ALL GONE THERE WON'T BE ANY AIRDROPS TO BRING YOUR SORRY ASS MORE! YOU'LL HAVE TO EAT YOUR FUCKING BOOTS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO STARVE! HOPE THEY TASTE GOOD TOO, BECAUSE MINE SURE AS HELL WON'T AFTER I'M DONE SHOVING 'EM UP YOUR USELESS GREEN ASS HARD ENOUGH TO PUNT YOUR FUCKING LUNGS INTO DEEP SPACE! DID YOU CATCH THAT, PRIVATE?! DID YOU?! DEEP SPACE! I WILL FUCKING KICK YOUR LUNGS OUT OF ORBIT IF YOU DON'T CALM YOUR CRAZY TITS DOWN RIGHT GODDAMN NOW!”
...
W-wow. Been a while since I've gotten a good chance to explode.
...
Judging by the expression that I got in return, I'm actually kind of surprised she didn't wet herself.
Serves her right, bullying a little girl.
“U-um... p-please d-don't kill me,” she stammered, doing everything in her power to avoid making eye-contact with me.
Finished yelling, I instead moved on to that quiet tone of voice that makes your victim silently wish you would just go back to breaking volume records. You know the tone.
“Unless you march in there within the next ten seconds and apologize for terrorizing her all so you could get your grubby little paws on a fucking toy, I don't know. I'm seriously debating it.”
Before that could happen, however, a blinding flash of light appeared several feet to our left, thus increasing our party of three to a party of four as Twilight teleported into view wearing a combat helmet.
“I heard yelling, wear's the fire?!” she exclaimed, spinning about in search of any sort of calamity.
After finding nothing outside of Rainbow beneath the table and the mare pinned beneath me, the lilac librarian visibly relaxed and tossed her headgear aside.
“Lyra, what are you doing here? Better yet, Jeremy, why are you sitting on top of her?”
Lyra, huh? Glancing down at her flanks, I rolled my eyes. Why do almost all of these ponies have names pertaining to their butt tatto~ oh, sorry, their Cutie Marks? Is it some sort of pre-destiny thing or something?
Eh, whatever.
“Crazy girl comes storming into the library trying to steal RD's Gameboy,” I quipped, returning my focus to my captive. “I intervened.”
Eying the green pony with a scowl, Twilight questioned, “Is this true, Lyra?”
The most that Lyra could manage was a frightened nod.
Heaving a sigh, Twilight huffed, “Jeremy, let her go. I think some introductions are in order. After that, a very long lecture on theft of property, but introductions first.”
“How about a noise complaint?” came Spike's voice from the top of the stairwell. “Seriously, the sun's barely up.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I groused. “I barely even made it to the newspaper.”
Glancing up, I peered through the open front door that was rather amazingly still attached to its hinges and spotted my own prize. Still sitting there.
With an irritated snort, I amended, “I didn't make it to the newspaper.”
Because, dammit, I like to keep up on current events.
~ ~ ~
A bit of tea and coffee seemed to do wonders with calming everyone down. Lyra still twitched from time to time whenever her eyes fell upon the little electronic device that she'd apparently die without, but aside from that everything seemed to return to normal.
Er, as normal as anything can really get around here anyway. Talking ponies, griffins, magic: you know, normality.
Suspension of Disbelief Level: Banana %
As it turned out, Lyra, Lyra Heartstrings, was an old acquaintance of Twilight's from back during her schooling days in Canterlot. To say that she was an odd pony would be like saying that a clear sky on a sunny day is only kind of blue. Whereas Twilight's obsession had always been in the studying and practice of all things arcane, Lyra's was in technology. Throughout the entirety of breakfast, she ranted and raved about all of the new inventions that Equestria had seen come about over the past 20 years, ranging from crank-less phonographs to the advent of the radio. And, sure, I'll admit, it was kind of cool seeing someone so enthusiastic about tech, but I was still pretty angry and it was going to take more than a trip down memory lane to fix that.
“Look, I'm gonna lay this out for you really clearly, alright?” I said, facing the green mare as I sipped my hot java. “The Gameboy belongs to Rainbow, not you. You try to take it from her again and I'll shove that horn of yours straight up your nose.”
Sighing, Twilight scolded, “Jeremy...”
“No, she needs to hear this,” I retorted, still focusing on Lyra. “You might have an issue with being an asshole, Twi, but I don't so long as I think someone really deserves it. However, with that said, I think we can come to some sort of an arrangement.”
“Oh?” the green girl piqued hopefully.
“Yes,” I answered. “You still can't have the Gameboy, but there are a few other things I've got lying around upstairs that you can. But before that, you have to apologize. And I want you to say it like you mean it, missy. I did not get out of bed today to have this kind of a talk with a grown fucking adult, got it?”
Turning from me to the colorful filly she'd wronged, Lyra gulped and said, “I'm... I'm sorry I tried to steal that from you, Rainbow. I know it's yours, not mine, I just... I got carried away. I should have just asked you if I could look at it. I didn't. Can you... can you forgive me?”
The pegasus looked nonplussed, but after a few seconds spent mulling it over, she relented.
“Just don't do it again, alright? I'm almost to the Elite Four.”
“What?” questioned Lyra in confusion.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I interjected, rising from my seat and motioning for her to follow. “Besides, you don't even have a starter. How could you even hope to make it past the first route?”
“Uh... what?” she repeated.
Trading a wink with Rainbow, I smirked, “Heh, again, nothing. Now c'mon, I'll show you some stuff that'd knock your socks off if you had any on.”
~ ~ ~
Disturbingly reminiscent to Pinkie Pie, as soon as Lyra laid eyes on my pile of odds and ends, she materialized some shit out of fucking nowhere. Unlike Pinkie, the green unicorn seemed to prefer screwdrivers and hammers over confetti and streamers. It took every ounce of power in me to clamp onto her tail and drag her away before what was left of my remaining Earthly possessions was reduced to nuts and bolts.
“Calm down!” I exclaimed after getting the situation back under control. “You can play with the stuff that doesn't work, but leave the things that do out of the equation! Jeez!”
“Heh, sorry,” she said, blushing, “guess I got carried away again. But just look at all of this! I just... oh my gosh, I've never seen so many things that I've never seen before!”
Crossing my eyes for a moment to delete that painful statement from my brain, I coughed and continued, “Right, well, let's start this off. Ground rules. As I said, you can do whatever you'd like with the things that I couldn't get working, okay? All I ask is, if you do somehow get any of it functioning again, come back to me and give me a heads-up on what exactly it was that you did. I kind of have some plans in the works and this pile of junk here, believe it or not, could turn out to be really important in the future.”
“Oh, I believe you!” Lyra chirped as she set her tools down. “Nothing's more important than the pursuit of science!”
Victims of experimental testing might disagree, but whatever.
Pulling a few choice pieces out of the mountain, I placed each down on the floor in a row in front of her.
“Still not sure how the fire detector got dragged along for the ride, but by default that's obviously something that should get looked at. This one here's just a toy car, but it's remote controlled, so I'm thinking that should be a high priority too. My old digital camera looks like it's in decent shape, but it's missing its battery and the lens wouldn't even extend anymore even when it had power. Lastly, this CD player could be valuable, what with the furthest audio recording technology around here being vinyl, but the damn thing wouldn't even turn on when I plugged it in. All of this shit could be useful, but as things stand right now it's all trash.”
“Really, really cool trash!” the unicorn added energetically.
“Granted,” I said, facing her and quirking an eyebrow. “So, you'd like to mess around with any of this stuff?”
“Totally!”
“You... have the know-how to do it?”
“Only one way to find out!”
“Huh, alright then. You have the equipment and space to do it?”
After a quick succession of rather painful looking nods, she cheerfully answered, “Yep, I have my own basement workshop! Bon-Bon likes to think I'm wasting my time down there, but any time spent tinkering around is time well-spent in my book. Oh! You should come over and see it sometime! We can have lunch, I can introduce you to my better half, and after that I can show you all of my projects that I've been working on!”
You know, trying to hold onto a steadily fizzling anger towards someone is really difficult when they're being adorable. And, crap, I guess she did apologize to Rainbow and everything anyway.
Why the Hell not? I've already decided to give her a few things, might as well see where they'll end up. Who knows, I could get a lab partner out of this. That'd make my job a whole helluva lot easier.
Shrugging, I gathered together the small row of devices and placed them in my saddlebags. Grinning, I pointed my hoof towards the window and asked, “When are you free?”
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twenty Two – The Energy, the Ecstasy, the Candy, and the Workshop...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Twenty Two – The Energy, the Ecstasy, the Candy, and the Workshop
~ ~ ~
As it happens, the answer to my question was apparently "right now".
Call me crazy, but something about the girl's enthusiasm was both endearing and slightly frightening at the same time.
Bidding Twilight, Rainbow, and Spike good day, I followed Lyra out of the library and across town. Now, even with what little I knew about the mare, I had some expectations. None of those expectations lead me to believe that she lived in a freaking candy store, however.
But she did.
Of course she did.
"Home sweet home?" I asked, seconds later screaming inwardly at my newest inadvertent pun.
"You know it!" she replied, pushing open the door and causing the bell above to let out a light jingle. "Bonnie, I'm back, and I brought company!"
From behind a polished counter, a cream-colored earth mare pivoted on her hindlegs to face us with a bright smile.
"Company?" she questioned, giving me the once-over. "Hmm, well, we won't be opening up for another two hours. Would our guest like to introduce himself over a cup of tea and some chocolates? I just finished a fresh batch and there's always a little extra to go around."
Tea?
Meh, I had a lot of coffee already.
Chocolates though?
Fuck yes.
"The name's Jeremy Robin, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet your chocolates' acquaintance," I said with a grin.
Flashing a grin of her own right back, the mare chuckled, "And as you've likely guessed, I'm Bon-Bon. Follow Lyra around the counter and into the back, the dinning room is on your second right. Give me a minute or two and I'll be right with you, candy and all."
"See ya there, Bonnie, don't forget the honey for my tea!" Lyra called out as I followed her further into their business-slash-home.
"As if I'd ever forget. You add sugar to your water, for Celestia's sake."
"Hey, a little bit of sweetness never hurts!"
"Hah, don't I know it. See you in a moment, hun."
You know those sitcom couples that are too cute to actually exist in the real world? The ones that make you wretch whenever you watch them being lovey-dovey when, in any ordinary situation, they'd really be ripping each others' throats out?
Surprisingly, it's not as annoying or painful to see in the flesh. Heck, if anything, I'd say they actually pulled off what those sitcom actors couldn't.
Ugh, dare I admit it?
They were actually kind of... precious.
Stifling a groan in favor of the better part of me actually appreciating the moment, I sat down with Lyra at opposite ends of a small table and awaited the arrival of sweet, sweet tooth-decay.
"So, a candy store?" I commented offhand. "I was kind of expecting a music shop or something."
Staring down at her hooves, Lyra closed her eyes and sighed, "Music... yeah."
"Er, I mean, you know, the lyre and your name and all," I sputtered, off-put by the energetic pony's immediate lack of... well... energy.
Letting out a short, humorless laugh, she replied, "I gave it a shot once, but it didn't work out. I guess with me it just couldn't work out. I love music, it's my special talent. Always has been. But I guess even loving what you do isn't enough to make it succeed. Everything's always up to chance."
Shit, did I really just fuck things up already? This has to be a new record or something, I've only been here for five minutes. Quick, abort! Abort! Salvage this, dumbass!
"N-not that there's anything wrong with a candy store, mind you," I backpedaled unconvincingly. "Candy's awesome, right? Hah, love candy, sugar kicks ass!"
"I should certainly hope it's awesome," came Bon-Bon's voice as she trotted into the room carrying a tray of treats, "otherwise we'd be out of business."
Instantaneously, Lyra's disposition returned to its normal levels of over-exuberance, giant smile and all. This seemed... off to me. It's not like I wanted her to stay depressed or anything, mind you, but when someone is so very obviously hiding something, you wonder what's going on, right?
At the very least, I was wondering.
Still, as I'd said, I'd only been here for every bit of five minutes. Best give it another five or six before I go prying open doors that I've got no business peering through.
Grabbing a chocolate and popping it into my mouth, I decided to play my cards close to my chest and beat around the proverbial bush.
"So, a snack shack and a workshop all rolled into one, eh? How do you two manage that? Seems to me like it'd be a lot of work trying to balance both out."
Shrugging, Bon-Bon selected a caramel truffle and answered, "It's not all that difficult, really. The store takes up the front half of the first floor and the workshop takes up the basement. If anything, the hardest part was moving the washing machine and dryer up the stairs and into the new laundry room."
"If it hadn't been for my horn, I don't think I could have ever gotten it done," Lyra snickered. "You should have seen Bonnie trying to direct me while I was hovering those huge monsters in the air."
"Suffice to say, the dryer very nearly wasn't the only thing to have a tumble cycle," Bon-Bon added, grinning. "All I think we were missing to complete the picture was a pair of those hoof-held lamps that the air-traffic control pegasi use."
"Bedroom closet, little box in the back," the mint green unicorn chimed in.
"Wait... no, you're not serious, are you, Lyra?"
"Yep."
"Why in Equestria do we have a pair of those?"
"So we can forget to use them the one and only time we'll ever need them, apparently!"
Bringing a hoof up to her forehead, the cream-colored mare shook her head and snickered, "Sounds like us, I'm afraid."
"Ah, no worries, sounds like me too," I said with a shrug. "Good posture, social etiquette, where I placed my wallet, where I placed my keys, social etiquette, how to open a jar of pickles without looking like a wimp, and social etiquette. I forget a lot of things."
Another round of laughter echoed throughout the small dining room as I blushed and rubbed the back of my head. Me being, well... me, all of that had been pretty much true. Especially the social etiquette bit. I should really stop waltzing into castles like I own the damn place.
"If you don't mind my asking, how did you and Lyra meet?" Bon-Bon asked after getting her giggles under control. "Wait, wait, no, let me guess. It's the obvious, isn't it? Are you an inventor of some kind?"
Oh, thank you, sweet and merciful lord! We can bypass all of the attempted theft!
With Lyra sweating bullets and staring at me with wide eyes, I cracked what I hoped was a believable grin and decided to ad-lib for as long as I could until the green pony regained her composure.
"Heh, am I that easy to read? I mean, 'inventor' might be a bit presumptuous of me at the moment, but that's what I'd like to aim for, specifically with electronics. I popped into town several months back and I've still only just started really getting acquainted with everything. Used to be a big city sort of guy, so the countryside takes a little adjustment. When Lyra here mentioned that she was interested in technology, I figured we might have a lot in common, so showed her some of my... uh... projects and she immediately expressed interest in working on them with me. Being a bit undertrained in magic, I could really use a spare pair of ha~ er, hooves to help me out. Especially with all the delicate work with things like wires, cogs, and springs. I can levitate a couch for a few minutes but I haven't quite gotten the hang of manipulating the small stuff just yet."
"Uh, what I mean is, it's not like I haven't done those things before, I'm just not very good at it all quite yet and Lyra said she could handle some of the precision-oriented work until I got the necessary training to start carrying my own weight. Because I don't want to call myself someone's lab partner and just toss all the work onto them, right? Heh, that'd be rude as all get-out. I figured I could show her some of the things I've got on the back-burner and have her tinker around with those while I hone my skills, then we could move on to the more difficult projects like advanced computer electronics. Which reminds me, do you guys have computers around here? They're really neat! They do all sorts of things that you could hardly believe, like high level mathematics all on their own. It's some really technical stuff that I think could go far if I just had someone dependable to work with me so I don't just mess everything up."
NO, NO, YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG! STOP RAMBLING, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YOU'RE JUST THROWING OUT WORDS NOW!
...
...
...
CHRIST RIDING A WAGON MADE OF STICKLE BRICKS DOWN A 90 DEGREE HILL, AWKWARD SILENCE IS EVEN WORSE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, ME?!
...
...
...
The deadpan look that I received in turn told me that, yeah, I really was quite easy to read. Especially when I was lying (or partly anyway).
Well, damn, at least I tried.
"Nice try," Bon-Bon said flatly, quickly turning to face her mate. "Now it's your turn."
Shrinking in her chair, the pony in question averted her eyes and flattened her ears.
"I kind of... sort of... chased Rainbow Dash across town and tackled her to steal her strange toy so I could disassemble it," she whimpered.
Bon-Bon's jaw hit the floor and then proceeded to fall straight through to the center of the world.
"YOU WHAT?!"
"I got carried away! I'd never seen it before and it looked so advanced with all these flashing lights and buttons! I just wanted to see what made it tick!" Lyra defended, still looking no less ashamed and tiny where she sat.
"Lyra, I..." the candy-maker sputtered. "I know she used to be a full-grown mare, but she's still a filly now. How... how could you do something like that?"
Lowering her head, Lyra clamped her eyes shut and sighed, "I don't know, I just... I guess I got over-excited and... lost myself."
A knowing look overtaking her for a brief moment, Bon-Bon quickly shook her head disapprovingly and returned her focus to me.
"And where do you come in?" she asked, her tone easier but still firm.
Cat's already out of the bag, dude, might as well do your best to clean it up and give it a saucer of milk.
"I stopped her," I answered, standing my ground. "I'm a friend of Twilight's and, by extension, a friend of Rainbow's. The kid came to the library motor-mouthing about somebody trying to snatch her stuff, so I stepped in. I know it sounds really bad, and yes, it is really bad, but Twilight and I sat your girl down and had a long, stern talk with her. She knows she did wrong and she apologized to Rainbow for it. And, I dunno... for what it's worth, I feel like she meant it too."
Letting out a snort, the cream-colored mare closed her own eyes and leaned back in her chair. After several seemingly eternal and agonizing seconds, she returned to us with her verdict.
"Lyra, I'm glad that you apologized, but we're going to have our own long, stern talk about this. And I mean it. Understand?"
The unicorn nodded rapidly, hard enough to give Steven Seagal a run for his money when it came to snapping necks.
"And Jeremy? Thank you for intervening... but next time, please be straight with me. Honestly is the bridge between ponies that makes kindness possible, after all."
Licking my lips, I nodded much less dangerously than my green friend had and said, "I read you loud and clear, ma'am. I'm sorry that I lied to you."
Rolling her eyes, she nonetheless smiled and replied, "You are forgiven."
Easing back into my seat, I felt the tension slowly begin to drain away.
I know I didn't start this one, but still, how do I keep getting myself into this shit? It's like I'm a trouble magnet or something. One of these days I'll have to get around to finding the button that'll let me switch polarities so I can repel it instead.
"Do you... do you mind if we head down into the workshop now, Bonnie?" Lyra asked, still fidgeting in a mixture of embarrassment and shame.
Maintaining her warm smile, Bon-Bon reached across the table to place a hoof over the green mare's own.
"I'd like a few more words with Jeremy first, but feel free, hun. Just try not to burn the house down, alright?"
Smiling brightly, Lyra nodded and hopped out of her chair, pacing around the table to give her partner a peck on the cheek. Earning a kiss in return, she then sped out of the room and around a corner out of sight.
Turning to stare in the direction that her other half had raced off to, Bon-Bon sighed and covertly pulled a small silver flask out from beneath the table.
"Please don't tell Lyra, by the way," she whispered as she unscrewed the cap and took a quick sip. "I know it seems a little early for a drink, but sometimes... I just need a bit of help calming down."
It's around this time that Inner Jeremy began winding the crank-operated mental alarms. Which is to say, welp, there goes the mood all over again.
Really, and I mean really really, what did I get myself into this time?
"I don't think that it's my place to ask this, but is the relationship... uh... straining you?" I questioned carefully.
Shaking her head, the cream-colored mare replied, "Not the relationship, no. Lyra's a gem and there truly aren't any others out there like her. It's just... difficult sometimes. Looking after her."
Taking another sip, Bon-Bon pressed a hoof to her temple and closed her eyes. Several seconds ticked by as the gears whirred inside her head.
"I guess it isn't even that either. It's hard to explain. I suppose I don't drink to cope with who we are together, or even with how challenging it is sometimes to maintain things. That would be foalish, wouldn't it?"
Keeping my mouth shut, I fidgeted a bit in my seat, not sure what to say or do that wouldn't aggravate things further.
"Ha, listen to me. I feel like I'm preaching to the choir. Foalish? What do I know about foalishness?"
Licking my lips, I steadied my gaze to lock eyes with the candymare and said, "Hey now, I don't want to hear you getting down on yourself. You were going somewhere with that, right? I'm all ears and, well, I don't know if I can say anything that might help, but I can at least try. Is... is everything alright?"
Stuck in an expression somewhere between a grimace and a grin, Bon-Bon responded quietly, "I don't know. There are days when I can get out of bed and everything in the world seems fine. Then there are days when I just want to hide my head under my pillow and pretend that everything's fine. Sometimes... it hurts just to look at her, to watch her and know that there's nothing I can do to help."
A pit formed in my stomach. A deep one.
Help?
"What do you mean?" I asked.
The mare's frayed expression told me that some questions might take a few roundabout detours before they can be answered.
Letting out another exacerbated snort, Bon-Bon huffed, "Look, I've only just met you, but you seem like a decent sort. I don't want to say this, but I feel like I have to. Lyra's... she's very important to me. I love it when she makes new friends. She needs more. We all do, don't we? But... but let me make this clear. Crystal clear. She's more fragile than she seems. So much more. If you hurt her, even just a little, I will be there. I will hurt you. I may not have magic, I may not have wings, but I will find a way. I will hurt you. Do you understand?"
"Okay, okay. Yeah, I follow," I replied with a nervous gulp, raising my forelegs in a placating manner. "I've only just met her too. I've only just met the both of you. And I know it sounds selfish, but judging by the little I've talked with her about, I think she can help me with something really important. I'd like that chance. Up until now, I just kind of thought she was a tad overenthusiastic... but I'm guessing that that's not it, is it? There's more."
"Much more," she affirmed, quaking in her chair.
Placing my hooves on the table, I gently pressed on, "Then tell me."
Again, a pained expression. This time accompanied by... tears?
"Because it's that easy, isn't it?" she snapped back, her voice still quiet so as to not alarm suspicion from downstairs. "Sharing secrets about those closest to you with near-complete strangers?"
Granted, can't really argue with that.
Thumping a hoof against my chest, I donned my most sincere smile and stated, "Then once again, the name's Jeremy Robin. Part-time inventor, magic student, and hopeful future member of the Royal Guard. You're one of two I've mentioned that to by the way, but moreover, I'm a basket case of anxiety and crippling self-doubt, constantly sticking my own leg out to trip myself up whenever I've got a good chance at actually succeeding. I've done it before and I'll probably do it again, even if I have gotten a lot better about it recently. I've done some things, almost exclusively to myself, that I'm not very proud of, and in all honesty, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for a bit of kindness that was thrown my way. I'd be dead. I'd be dead and it'd be my fault... if you catch my drift."
Pausing to catch my breath, I turned my head to scroll over the pictures lining the walls, a happy couple of mares that apparently had to fight pretty hard in order to maintain their shared happiness. Why they had to struggle, I didn't know just yet.
But I wanted to know. I wanted to help.
Because pay it forward, dammit. And not out of obligation, but out of trying to be a decent person.
"I'm only here right now because some people took pity on me and gave me a second chance that I've been trying for months to convince myself that I really deserve. I don't know if I'm there yet, but I do know that I'd like to be. I'm a broken man still in the process of putting himself back together. Whatever you have to tell me, I'll understand. I'll understand not because I've been exactly where the two of you are or have been, but because understanding is what people do when they care."
Blushing, Bon-Bon's ears flattened and she replied, "W-wow. That was... not what I expected."
"Too much information?" I asked with a shrug.
"Maybe a little," she answered. "Maybe."
"You know, that might just be an accurate description for me in general," I laughed. "Jeremy Robin, too much information. Pay three bucks at the door and listen to the idiot prattle. Admission for kids and the elderly is free."
Chuckling in return, Bon-Bon remarked, "What was it that you said earlier about getting down on yourself?"
"Heh, alright, I'll keep the self-deprecation to a minimum too."
"Appreciated," she said thoughtfully, nodding, "and for what it's worth... I think I get where you're coming from. Thank you, that was quite brazen of you."
Brazen? Hmm, dunno if that one fits me quite as well as the last, but whatever, I'll take what I can get.
"It's the truth," I continued, smiling softly. "And, honestly... I'm not ashamed of it anymore. It's hard, but I'm getting better. For the first time in a long time, I'm making friends, and I think I'd really like Lyra to be one of those friends. The same goes for you too, Bon-Bon."
Nodding, the candymare relaxed her posture and turned her focus to the pictures and portraits that I had browsed only seconds ago. While her eyes misted over, they didn't let a drop fall. It didn't look like an expression of sorrow this time around. It was something more wistful than anything else.
Grabbing the flask, I nodded to her and took a pull, an unexpected flavor not unlike straight vodka searing my tongue.
Coughing for a moment, I passed it back to her and, in my usual blunt fashion, said, "Bon-Bon, you might feel powerless now, but you're doing more for her than I think you know. She could be all alone with that noise in her head, but she isn't. Even if you can't share in the fight yourself, you can share in the recovery after each one. She has a pair of hooves to fall back into if she needs them and not everyone can say that they've got that. One of the worst things you can be when you're in a really dark place is be alone."
Rising to my hooves, I pushed in my chair and stretched my neck. Every once in a while, as dumb as I can be, something awesomely obvious can still nonetheless strike me.
This was one of those moments. I'm... kind of proud of it.
I knew exactly what to say, and despite the weight of what had just been unloaded on me, it was the simplest thing in the world.
It was the truth.
Trotting out of the room, I craned my neck to look over my shoulder and said, "She's not alone. She has you."
Bon-Bon stood there for a moment, just staring at me. The look in her eyes told me a great deal more than words could. It wasn't that she hadn't considered what I had just told her. Rather, I'd say it was more like she'd been waiting for an outsider to acknowledge it.
Which I guess makes sense.
From minute three of sitting at that table it was pretty clear to me that these two loved each other, but love's a challenging thing. Apparently even more so when you've got variables in the equation like mental instability. Now, I can't argue that I'll ever fully understand exactly how hard this mare has had to fight to maintain her connection with the one that she loves, but I can acknowledge it.
I did acknowledge it.
And sometimes, that's all we really want. Fame and fortune are pretty tiny things when compared to understanding, at least in the long run. Every once in a great while, even if someone can't really understand where we're coming from, even just trying to is enough. It's that strange thing called empathy.
I've... learned a lot about it lately.
Empathy. Yeah.
For the longest time, I spent all my hours being depressed solely about myself. Feeling sorry for myself. In hindsight, that was pretty damn selfish of me. Twilight. Rainbow Dash. I really have learned a lot about others since meeting them. Everyone suffers. Everyone hurts. But you know what? Sometimes, even when it hurts the most, we rise above and conquer the pain.
...
Heh, for the zillionth time, damn these ponies. They're driving me (or what is it now, keep driving me?) to feel.
~ ~ ~
The rest of my visit went pretty much as well as I had originally expected... well, outside of the hug that I gave the green unicorn for no properly disclosed reason that is. Lyra's workshop boasted many a strange curiosity, some practical and others... not-so-practical. Devices such as perpetual motion prototypes and functionless mechanical solutions in search of unspoken questions littered tabletops left and right. My host gave me a quick tour, guiding me through each of her projects and their intended purposes.
A personal favorite was definitely the hoof-mounted brace with claw-like attachments that she was trying to develop. Intended for earth ponies and pegasi to help them manipulate objects that unicorns normally used magic to interact with, while the idea had yet to leave the blueprint stage I was hard-pressed to scoff at something so potentially useful.
However, even with all of her interesting ideas, something told me that a day as emotionally taxing as this one just couldn't end on an ordinary note. As I was unpacking my three offerings and explaining to her how the sensors within the smoke alarm worked, a thought came to me that I just couldn't let go unvoiced.
"Lyra, I don't know why I haven't thought to ask this yet, but now that it's on my mind I can't get it out. You were hellbent on getting that Gameboy from Rainbow, and while I can agree that the technology behind it isn't exactly something I've seen around here, you guys do seem to have television. What's up with that?"
My new friend's eyes widened as the implications behind my inquiry hit her.
"I... don't know."
Feeling that I could still go somewhere, I continued.
"Well, how long have you guys had television?"
Screwing her eyes shut, Lyra concentrated for several long seconds before turning to face me with a paled face and even wider eyes.
"I... I don't know that either."
...
...
...
What?
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twenty Three – Techno-Jargon and Frustration...
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
A lot of things have happened between now and the last chapter as far as my personal life goes, but without getting into great details, I'm undergoing psychiatric evaluation. Because I might be crazy or something. Honestly, I think we're all crazy in our own little ways, so I'm not about to let that bring me down. I'm just going to keep writing and enjoying myself. Because ponies are awesome-tastical and I'll be damned if something as small as possible mental instability stops me from doing what I love.
To everyone reading, you guys are awesome and I hope I don't fuck everything up and end up delving the story into a direction that you don't enjoy. Jeremy has a lot ahead of him, both emotionally and thematically. Look forward to him complaining about everything under the sun some more!
- Joseph Raszagal
P.S. - Stay frosty, everypony.
P.P.S. - Prior to thinking it out fully through, the link to the song that I provided takes you to one of my "Moonstuck" videos that features the song. However, upon further research, Matt Pless, the creator of the song, has his own uploaded. You should totally check him out if you enjoyed the song. He's a cool dude, yo.
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Twenty Three – Techno-Jargon and Frustration
~ ~ ~
As I sat in the library behind the main desk, I thought back on yesterday's encounter with Twilight upon returning home. Now, I'd pretty much expected some confusion from her in response to my inquiry, but at this point I can't really say why I maintain any sort of expectations at all anymore.
I think I've mentioned that before, but whatever, it bears repeating infinitely. The polls are closed and the votes have been tallied! When Jeremy Robin has an expectation, it should promptly be set ablaze and then catapulted into deep space. Preferably during a combination hurricane-blizzardquake or something.
Hyperbole, hyperbole, you get the point.
My conversation with Lyra just before leaving her workshop had been a disconcerting one to be sure. To recap: Equestria has television but lacks a multitude of inventions that are less advanced in several areas required for the invention of said television. Furthermore, upon asking my green friend exactly when the ol' talking tube had hit the markets, she couldn't answer me.
She just didn't know.
That struck me as really odd. TV was, technologically speaking, kind of a big deal. I refused to believe that when it came out everyone just kind of shrugged their shoulders like, “Cool, motion picture and sound. That’s cute.”
I mean… okay, look, I can’t be the crazy one here, right?
Picture, sound, and a window to the rest of the world, all in one convenient package. Entertainment and your daily news, with updates as the stories progress. But no, against all logic that scenario apparently really was the case. Either nobody knew or nobody cared, the former of the two by far being the most suspicious in my playbook.
And, fuck, even ignoring all of that hot mess, when I bid both Lyra and Bon-Bon goodnight, Lyra gave me a walkie-talkie so I could keep in close contact.
Oh and did I mention it was a walkie-talkie with a functional radius of over five miles, five long miles?
Dayum, son.
Now, while my suspension of disbelief could allow room for the idea that such radio devices very well could have existed in Equestria before the advent of television, a niggling little voice in the back of my head kept me convinced that it was all still a complete load of bullshit.
I’ve honed my bullshit senses greatly over the years, you see.
To imagine that the technology here had reached the point of domestic use, beyond just that of either military or law-enforcement, was too hard for me to swallow, especially if I took into account how fast and widespread such tech had apparently become. And don't get me wrong, I was overjoyed to have a mode of communication to contact my new research partner with, but that fact did little to quell the doubt inside me.
Something was amiss in the land of colorful, talking horses (and yes, aside from the whole colorful, talking horses bit) and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
When I posed these same questions to Twilight, her face paled enough to make a bottle of bleach blush. I could tell that the gears inside her head were spinning, but despite a valiant effort, I couldn't get her to tell me why she was so worried. All she gave me was a halfhearted "sorry" as she raced out of the library and off to Canterlot, Spike following close behind her; no doubt readying to meet with Celestia about the matter.
Given that the whole thing had been brought to her attention solely because I'd done the legwork in asking the initial questions, I was more than a little miffed at the prospect of not being allowed in on the impending investigation. I spent the entire following night awake asking myself what was going on and exactly how big a thing could this turn out to be? By the time sunrise came back around to kiss the curtains, I had to force myself to give it a rest for a while, groggily deciding that a hot pot of coffee was the ultimate answer to whatever question was on my mind at the time.
Relishing in the caffeinated goodness, I perked up enough to convince myself that a nice day of running the library would get my mind off of things.
A loud, static hiss from my life-line to Lyra, however, protested otherwise.
~ ~ ~
"I just don't get it," I droned, my head on its side atop the front counter's polished wooden surface. "Color television is a far cry from radio, and beyond that, I haven't been able to find a single thing in any of these books about black and white. That... that should have been the start.”
Taking a hoof, I rubbed at the bridge of my nose and tried my hardest to concentrate through the aggravation.
“As far as I'm aware, there was never any point at which color wasn't the norm here. But back... uhm... back where I'm from, things started out a lot slower, with the worry that transmitting in color would take up too much radio signal bandwidth. Black and white took up three times less, so it stayed the norm until the developers found a way to encode the transmission is such a way as to separate the color from the brightness. It completely killed the resolution quality, but the end result was still color, which still made it a big achievement regardless.”
“Mmmhm,” crackled the receiver sitting next to my head.
“Here though, it's like someone just happened to know everything already and fixed all the problems before they even occurred," I harrumphed. “C’mon, that’s bunk if I’ve ever heard it.”
"Let me get this straight," Lyra replied, her voice taking on an analytical tone. "You're saying we're broadcasting beyond our means? How can you be sure that it wasn't within the realm of possibility? Maybe the inventors just tested with black and white first and refused to release it until they had a more polished final product on their hooves."
Rolling my baggy eyes, I sighed, "Granted, an arguable point, but how does that explain the crisp resolution? Or the sound quality? Sure, both could also be explained along the same vein as what you're saying, but within this kind of limited time frame? Appearing right the fuck out of nowhere? Really? These things take years and years to develop, especially when comparing them to the existing technology I've already seen.”
“Okay.”
Rage Level: 60 %
“But here, that just doesn't seem to be the case. Things like light bulbs, vinyl record players, or transistor radios; that kind of stuff I can buy into just fine and dandy. Like you just said, yeah, all of that crap is still within the realm of possibility. But to go from any of those things to such a huge step up like high-definition quality television? That's... that's just fucking nuts.”
“Granted, as you said. It does seem a little unlikely, but maybe~
“And no, I can't fall back on the notion of sheer, blind coincidence; that some mega-genius just so happened to have a single moment of scientific enlightenment in his sleep or something, because some of the necessary steps to reach this kind of shit requires a lot of other developments to happen first; a lot of big and important things that wouldn’t slide right under the radar unnoticed! And I haven’t been able to find fucking any of it!”
“Well, maybe~
I was on a roll, I didn’t give her any more time to interject.
Rage Level: 80 % - Warning, Jeremy is reaching critical batshit.
“I mean, for fuck’s sake, it'd be easier to say that somebody just accidentally stumbled upon an ancient, super-advanced civilization that had this sort of tech already, then the guys that dug it up just reverse-engineered it into what we're seeing today! AND THAT'S THE SORT OF CRAP THAT THE FUCKING CONSPIRACY THEORISTS BELIEVE IN!"
Rage Level: 100 % - Warning, Jeremy Presley has left the building.
“I’VE GOT FUCKING STACKED SHELVES OVER HERE, BOOKS FOR FUCKING DAYS, AND THERE’S FUCK-ALL ABOUT ANY OF THIS IN ANY OF THEM! ANY OF THE FUCKING ANY, ALRIGHT?! HERE’S THE BREAKDOWN: TV JUST ALWAYS WAS, FUCKING BLACK AND WHITE NEVER EXISTED BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK NOT, AND ANY KID COULD JUST GO DOWN TO THE FUCKING PONY K-MART OR FUCKING HOOF-GRENES OR WHATEVER AND BUY A GODDAMN PAIR OF PARAMILITARY POLICE WALKIE-TALKIES THAT CAN CATCH A SIGNAL FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF A FUCKING MOUNTAIN! THAT’S THE STATUS QUO WE’RE UP AGAINST HERE AND NO, IT DOES NOT MAKE ANY GODDAMN SENSE! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!”
…
Oh man.
Catching my breath, it quickly dawned on me just what I’d done. Placing the walkie-talkie down on the counter, I seated myself next to it and bit my lip. The stark silence felt like an eternity.
I knew damn well who I was arguing with and here I was being the one to jump off the deep end towards random conclusions that I couldn’t remotely prove.
And only a day after swearing to Bon-Bon that I would be on my best behavior too.
Dammit.
“I’m sorry,” I eventually forced myself to say. “I shouldn’t have taken all of that out on you. I’m… I’m frustrated. And I can be kind of an asshole sometimes.”
Her tone cheerier than she likely felt, Lyra nonetheless crackled back through the receiver, “It happens to the best of us sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”
Chewing my lip for a moment, I searched my brain for a clever segue of some kind with which to flee into another topic, but the angry adrenaline rush had already started fading. In the way of that momentary surge of energy, a sluggish weight quickly spread throughout my whole body.
Beating me to the punch, my green partner suddenly announced, “Anyway, I’ve kept myself glued to the news like you asked.”
“Um, th-that’s great,” I responded clumsily, wading back into the conversation with embarrassed caution. “Find anything interesting? I sure didn’t.”
“Nope, notta thing happening in the entire world. Nothing weird anyway. Let’s see… the griffins reelected their Prime Minister for a second term after his big economic project successfully opened up a ton of jobs. Cupcake sales remain in the skyrocketing regions due in no small part to Pinkie Pie’s huge bake sale in Canterlot last month. Oh, and those flash floods that happened in Hoofington turned out to have all been caused accidentally by a little colt named Flash Flood.”
“Shocker,” I snorted, a weak grin slowly forming. "Anything else of note?"
"Hmm," Lyra hummed to herself, the sounds of papers shuffling back and forth joining her. "A gemstone boom in the Badlands turned the little nopony town of Sizzling Sands into a major mining city. Um, let's see here, Agatha Westwind's Biggest Little Shop of Curiosities had a sale on exotic potion ingredients that over a thousand customers attended. Aaaaaaaand, um, it looks like we're expecting a balmy weekend with temperatures in the high 70s and not a cloud to be seen."
"Just watch, there’s totally something funky-fishy going on here and our problem is we just really suck at doing our research," I said with a irate flick of my tail. "That'd be Hell."
"Hell?" she asked.
Huh, alright. That's the second random segue to pop up out of nowhere and save me today. Good on ya, Lyra.
"Think Tartarus, hun, a merry little world of everlasting lamentation and woe."
I can only imagine the look on my green friend's face as she laughed, "Of course."
Smiling, I leaned forward onto the counter and rambled, "To me, my own personal Hell would be... hmm, maybe being trapped inside of a tiny room with elevator music playing constantly and nothing to read except two or three wrinkled copies of Family Circus. Oh, oh, and you do get someone to talk to, but your only two options are Robin Williams doing an obnoxious Jim Carry impression or Jim Carry doing an obnoxious Robin Williams impression!”
"I don't think I know what literally any of that meant."
"Eh, it's an abstract kind of Hell. Trust me, it’d be the worst."
"You tell 'em, brother!" immediately boomed Pinkie Pie's typically excessive level of volume. "I mean elevator music?!”
"Augh!" Lyra and I both screamed in unison, the loud “thud” of my falling echoed by Lyra’s own.
“I’d try to take that one back to court,” Pinkie continued. “If I may approach the bench, your honor, this is cruel and unusual punishment! This whole trial is out of order, I say, a kangaroo court throwing me to the boring elevator wolves!"
Fumbling for my voice, I stammered, “Um, Pinkie?”
"Anywhoozles, I just took a trot around Ponyville and it looks like Zecora's on her way for another magic studying sesh! Tell her I said hi and good luck with the couch! Oh, and nice catching you too, Lyra! Toodles!"
…
…
…
After she departed the conversation~
No, you know what? I won't say it.
You already know, don’t you? You don't need me to say it.
But do you know what? I’m going to anyway.
She just left the conversation like that, as cheery as ever, and then both Lyra and I were treated to that oh so wonderful sound of the telephone dial tone.
Because why not?
"But... no, no... there’s, like, established rules and stuff," I gasped, trying to steady myself and rediscover some trace of logic inside the depths of my violated sanity. "Universal laws, man."
"With Pinkie Pie?" Lyra responded, sounding more or less as shocked as I did. "Sorta. They're more like guidelines. And she only skimmed them lightly."
"Fucking... we're arguing about hard science over here and she just takes science and kicks it right in the groin."
"That's deep."
Rubbing my forehead with a hoof, I sighed, "If I get any deeper today I'll need a shovel."
"I can head out to the toolshed. Wanna borrow one?"
"Dunno, which do you think would work better?" I groused, tapping my chin as if in true contemplation. "You swinging it at my head or me trying to take the swing myself?"
"And we're back to the grumpiness again."
"Look here, we can't all be glimmering rays of sunshine. That's our benevolent ruler's job. Literally."
"Not to mention mine!” the green mare chirped, her grin showing through her tone. “Bonnie helps a lot there, admittedly."
“Baby, I’m in the sunshine business. And business is good.”
The few seconds of laughter that we shared were unfortunately cut short as a series of sharp knocks sounded from the front door.
Shaking my head, I eyed the door and sighed, “Just as prophesized.”
“Let me guess,” Lyra giggled, “Zecora just showed up, didn’t she?”
Trotting into view on cue, my zebra mentor shrugged off a pair of overstocked saddlebags next to one of the many tables and met my tired stare with a warm smile.
“Yup,” I answered, “looks like I’m needed. Over and out, partner.”
Still suppressing laughter, the mint mare concluded with the audible thump of a mock salute against her forehead and a dutiful, “Roger that.”
Setting the walkie-talkie aside, I stood up and stretched. Every single joint in my body, from the ankles up to the small of my back, popped loudly in protest to the prospect of work of any kind.
This would prove interesting.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twenty Four – Still in the Dark…
~ ~ ~
Author's Notes:
I've been gone a long time, yo. Here's hoping I can make up for that absence. My sincerest apologies.
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Chapter Twenty Four – Still in the Dark
~ ~ ~
“Heya, Z. Um, Twi's not here today, so I just kinda figured things were cancelled. Well okay, to be completely honest, I forgot about today’s session entirely; Pinkie actually had to remind me about it. Uh, I take it we’re still on though, huh?”
“Good day to you too,” Zecora responded with a bow, “and indeed, there’s still much work to do. Twilight Sparkle might not be here, but her notes left the lesson quite clear. So, is my student ready for his studies to reach their next goal?" Producing a sewing needle and a spool of thread in one hoof, she added, "Because today you will practice fine and careful control."
As she said this, a roll of cloth quickly joined the rest of my new opponents.
I immediately began sweating.
Okay, that couch was pretty hard, but all it really ended up being was a practice in grunt force. Even on a bad day, I could do grunt force. But threading a needle? Shit, I couldn't even do that back when I had hands. Now I’m working with hooves. Clumsy, clumsy hooves and a horn that, at the drop of a hat, could range from anywhere between sparking and not much else to accidentally throwing me across the room.
Although I totally meant to do that last one when it happened; a practice in unassisted flight, we’ll go with that.
Still, I’d sort of managed the guitar and an argument could be made that that was likely even more difficult. Surely I could sew something, no matter how poorly.
"Alright..." I drawled, eying the hovering sewing supplies wearily, “but I’m going to warn you. I haven’t really slept yet, I’ve been preoccupied for a while. Just cut me some slack if I manage to stitch myself to my pattern or something.”
Nodding silently, Zecora then set about preparing another table off to the side with what looked like tea china. Preparing to channel my inner-Rarity, I wrapped my telekinesis around the items and began working my magic.
My incredibly impressive and not-at-all embarrassing magic.
~ ~ ~
Beads of sweat formed on my brow as needle and thread danced through the fabric floating in front of me.
Well, a really awkward South Central Middle School Prom of ‘87 sort of dance, maybe.
…
That might have come across as oddly specific, but we’re on the same page, right?
Heaving a sigh, I set my materials down and looked over my accomplishment through squinty, scrutinizing eyes. Using brown thread, I’d sewn something approximating the next level in stick-figure art into a large sheet of white cotton. With brown yarn a shade or two darker, I’d given the linen doodle a scribbly mane and tail as well.
Clearly, it was supposed to be me, and damned be the churlish fool who could not appreciate the uncanny resemblance as portrayed in my marvelous design.
“Never show this to Rarity,” I groaned, plopping my head back down onto the counter.
Clopping her forehooves together, Zecora chastised me, “You focus too much on the destination and not enough on the road. An earnest effort is not something I would goad. That you did as asked is effort enough, from practice to perfect should always be tough.”
“I guess,” I grumbled, folding up my amazing attempt and already planning out the perfect hiding spot best suited to keeping it from ever seeing the light of friggin’ day again. “At least floating around recliners and bookshelves made me feel like some kind of psychic Popeye. I liked that a lot more.”
“With more lessons, you might just surprise yourself, Jeremy,” the zebra chuckled, taking a seat at the table she’d prepared earlier. “as for now, why don’t we relax with some tea?”
Shrugging, I rubbed at my eyes and admitted, “I feel kinda like crap for actually breaking out into a sweat from just sitting there on my ass sewing. So, yeah, I could go for a cup of tea.”
“Then would you be so kind as to fetch the pot for me?”
“I don’t remember you ever even going to the stove, but sure. I’ll be back in a sec~
For whatever weird reason, it’s on this that the gears in my head decided to resume their belated spinning.
“Hey, you can’t just take shortcuts by rhyming with me, that’s cheating!”
Zecora simply smiled and chuckled under her breath, quietly arranging the china at both ends of the tiny reading table.
Laughing in spite of my terrible joke, I trotted into the kitchen, only dragging my hooves a little along the way. Lo and behold, a steaming pot sat there on the stove, ready to be poured and enjoyed.
“Between Yoda and Pinkie, I’m going to forget what the word ‘surprise’ means at some point, aren’t I?” I muttered absently to myself, grinning.
Grabbing the piping hot container with my telekinesis, I returned and gently placed it between our cups. Admittedly, I spilled some along the way, but water’s pretty harmless to the floor of literal treehouse and fuck you, I’m really tired.
As I settled myself into my seat, my tutor removed from her saddlebags several smaller bags; inside of each tiny packet a cluster of tea leaves and what looked like some extra herbs and spices. My nose caught a wide array of sharp scents during the steeping process. There was a hint of cinnamon, maybe apple too, and at least one other that distinctly reminded me of some kind of flower. Not being an accomplished botanist, I couldn’t really tell what sort.
Whatever it was, one thing rang truer than the Certainty Bell ever did. It smelled like I wanted to drink it.
Raising her cup to meet mine, Zecora smiled and took the smallest of sips, nodding in satisfaction as she set it back down.
For a few brief minutes we just sat there enjoying our tea in relative silence. Just as it smelled, it tasted amazing. I guess in the same way that daisy sandwiches had become appetizing, this too appeared to appeal to my new pony palate.
Say that 10 times fast.
Predictably, however, Quiet Time wasn’t something that a guy like me was well known for enduring for very long. During the idle moments between drinks, a question popped into my mind. Figuring a conversation might help to keep me awake, especially with hot tea attempting to put me down for the count, I decided to go for it.
“Zecora? I hope you don't mind me asking, but I’m kinda curious. Always have been since I first met you, actually. Why do you speak in rhyme?”
The zebra’s ears quickly perked at the inquiry.
“A fair question, though I must admit, few have ever asked me,” she responded, blushing. “The truth is much less mysterious than you might think it to be.”
“I’m all ears. Hit me with it.”
Nodding, the zebra sheepishly continued, “My native tongue simply had no equivalent here in this Equestrian land. As such, whenever I would raise my voice, nopony would understand. Despite my years of travel, I still found this new language strange, so I took to learning it by adapting a rhyming range.”
Phonetically, that made sense. Back on ye-olden-Earth a lot of students were taught various speech intricacies through the use of rhyme.
I wasn’t about to say that aloud, however. This had to be the first time I’d seen Zecora embarrassed. Managing to flap the otherwise unflappable was apparently a talent of mine.
“Although I've spoken it more than enough to know it well,” she laughed, shrugging in spite of herself, “old habits die quite hard, as I'm sure you can tell. And I journeyed far to learn what I did, so perhaps some shames just shouldn’t be rid. I’m proud of my tongue, even when it fails to speak clear. It was able to adapt anew in less than a year.”
Ah, damn. She definitely had me there.
Smirking, I admitted to her, “Less than a year? Heh, I spent four years at Spanish and the most I can do is ask for a beer and where the nearest toilet is.”
“In all fairness, the latter is highly important, at least if you were to ask me. Another of importance would be is if using it might cost you a fee.”
Devolving into an instant fit of childlike giggles, I stammered, “D-dinks? Free! Food? T-totally free! L-laxatives? You didn’t know it, b-but also free! W-what was that l-last one, toilets? Th-that’ll be 70 bucks, s-sir!”
Shaking her head, Zecora just smiled along and took another sip of her drink.
Well, at least I managed to put a dent in her armor for a few seconds before she repaired it.
Me though? I guess I’m just too easy.
I spent a good minute or so collecting myself, my chest burning from the heat of elementary school-level potty humor. Returning to the sanctity of my tea, I took a hearty gulp and adjusted myself on my seat to straighten my back.
Had I blinked, I would have missed it.
For a short second, my tutor’s eyes glossed over. Immediately after, she blinked, focusing again on her tea as she lifted it to her lips. By the time she turned to address my confused stare, her ears had begun to fold, betraying her otherwise nonchalant expression.
Thrown off by the immediate shift but seeing through the charade all the same, I decided to ask, “Something on your mind over there?”
In response, Zecora simply let out a frustrated sigh.
“Merely the past,” she answered softly, placing her cup back down on the table, “nothing less, nothing more. I had always wished to travel, but was forbidden before.”
“Uh, well, you’re here right now. Guessing it became less forbidden or something? Is there a rebellious radical hiding under that coat that I don’t know about?”
That elicited another chuckle… but not one full of mirth.
I knew what that meant.
Jeremy Robin, Patron Saint of Salting Old Wounds. How the Hell did I always manage to step directly on a landmine as soon as I opened my fat mouth?
“Back in my homeland, a mare's place was chosen from the start, no matter what hopes or dreams she harbored within her heart,” Zecora explained, turning her chin towards the ceiling to stare up at the tree’s many rings. “I had wished to join our tribe’s scouts and explore, but the elders decided that medicine was needed more.”
Quirking an eyebrow, I guessed, “So… it wasn't your call to become, uh, an alchemist? Or maybe apothecary? Is that right?”
Kinda hard to pick a “correct” word for what the zebra technically does. My brain swiftly kicked itself, afraid that I might have already insulted her. Luckily, she just shook her head, choosing instead to continue her story.
What followed surprised me.
“No, it was not my choice to learn the wisdom I know now, nor was it my choice of where or when I would learn how,” Zecora stated, an unexpected glimmer lighting her eyes. “But more than that, my friend, so too do I try not to dwell on such reasons, for my brews have helped well my pony friends here throughout the seasons.”
Finishing her tea, she swirled a hoof around the cup’s brim, revealing an instant refill and a bright smile to go with it.
“A banished soul though I may be, my mother’s words will always stay with me. ‘Wherever you find yourself, daughter mine, do not be afraid to let yourself shine. Be true of spirit and kind of heart, and know we will never be truly apart.’ I feel I would make her proud doing what I can here and now, and perhaps one day she will know somehow.”
As she finished, a gust of wind blew through an open window, serenely ruffling Zecora’s striped mane. In that instant, watching her there from across the table, I knew exactly what Applejack saw in her. If the Element of Honesty could love and trust in someone, that someone was Zecora.
“W-wow,” I stuttered dumbly. “I mean, um, that’s probably the best way to look at it. Heh, shows more maturity than I think I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” Putting on my best toothy grin, I attempted a rebound and instead said, “If it helps any, I’ll bet she’s proud for sure. I know I’d be if I was your mothe~ father! Yeah, father. Definitely… definitely father.”
Well, at least my vocal stumbling rewarded me with another laugh, genuine and happy again.
Much better.
Laughing along with her, I finished off the rest of my own tea and started to rise from my seat… only to fall down backwards onto my ass. Flailing like an idiot while doing so, I managed to not only knock over my cup, but also entangle myself with my chair too.
Because I guess if you’re going to fall down, you might as well cause as much collateral damage as possible.
Trotting to my side, Zecora outstretched a hoof to help me up and inquired, “You really haven’t had much sleep at all, have you? I must warn, forcing yourself along is not a healthy thing to do.”
“It’s alright, I’m fine,” I replied, taking the offered hoof and rising. “I’ve just been busy with… stuff. Amazed I wasn’t distracted during the sewing.”
Oh! Oh! Excuse! I did a shit job as a tailor because I was tired. That was definitely it.
“May I inquire as to what is on your mind? I have avoided asking, but I am not blind.”
“It’s nothing, I promise,” I lied through my teeth. I already had Lyra in on this as my co-conspirator, I didn’t know if involving anyone else was a good idea. For me or them.
“Well, and if I might be so bold, have I not already my own story told?”
Ah, shit. I hadn’t thought about that. And those were obviously some pretty painful memories too.
I scratched at my head for a moment in deliberation, but only succeeded in drawing blank after blank. This was Zecora, after all. Rare was the day that her sage advice missed the mark. Compounding that was the fact that she had me in a corner. Manipulating me maybe, but she was still just trying to help. If I could give her just half of the story and try to vague my way through the rest, she might still have some good wisdom for me anyway.
Treading the conversational waters cautiously, I supplied, “I’ve been going through a lot of books recently and… well… I’ve noticed some historical inaccuracies, so-to-speak. I brought it up to Twilight, but she’s keeping me in the dark. It’s been bugging me something fierce, you know?”
“Have you considered the fact that she’s keeping you from becoming involved for the sake of your safety? Her intentions could be as benign as trying to prevent you from doing anything too risky.” “Yeah, the thought’s crossed my brain a couple of times. Still, if something really is going on, I’d like to be there to have her back; I owe her a lot.”
“If the worry of protecting her is what has been plaguing your mind, then I can soundly lay those worries to rest, I think you’ll find. Twilight Sparkle is a learned and capable mare, the least in need of defending of all the ponies out there.”
A hard glint in the zebra’s eyes told me that I wasn’t the only one being vague here. I didn’t like that. Hypocrite or not, I was being left out again, but this time I didn’t even know what I was being left out of.
Licking my lips, I felt the early onset of a building anger. If ever there was anything with the power to wash away my tiredness, my short fuse always came in pretty handy.
“Her brother told me as much,” I quietly said, my tail flicking in aggravation, “but what does that mean? Is she secretly like the Juggernaut or something? Twilight the Invincible?”
“Juggernaut?” Zecora replied confusedly.
Shaking my head, I placed my hooves on the table and stood my ground, “Irrelevant, we’re going to stay on-subject here. Why wouldn’t Twilight need any help? I’m not trying to call her defenseless or anything and I know how many times she’s taken part in defending Equestria against all sorts of nasties-wasties in the past, but she didn’t do any of that all on her own either. She had the girls there to back her up and~
Stopping myself, I came to a sudden realization.
Locking eyes with my zebra mentor, I chose my words very carefully and said, “You know something, something that you can’t tell me. But I think there’s another problem here. Before I mentioned any of this to you, you didn’t know about it, did you?”
Silently, Zecora shook her head.
“Applejack’s not the kind to keep secrets either,” I continued, connecting the dots in my head as fast as I could. “Which means that she doesn’t know. Which would mean that none of the girls know.”
Biting her lip, I watched the debate rage in the zebra’s head, whether or not I needed to be made privy to whatever secret was being withheld from me.
Even as she stood from the table and paced her way over to her discarded saddlebags, I decided to keep pressing buttons.
“Something strange is going on and Twilight’s trying to tackle it all on her own. That doesn’t bug you? She’s your friend, and still, that fact doesn’t bug you even just a little bit?”
Making her way towards the door, Zecora paused for a brief second to look back at me. It was obvious she wanted to tell me something, but all I ended up getting was a halfhearted, “A secret hidden in plain sight is still a secret, Jeremy. I gave my word and my word I will not retract.”
And just like that, she left.
Not only was I still in the dark, but the lady didn’t even have the common courtesy to rhyme one last time.
Sinking into my seat, defeated, I felt my blood begin to boil over. Getting anything out of these ponies was like pulling teeth without the pliers, I just didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do. Eventually, some extraordinarily petty part of my soul helped me to spy a familiar friend out of the corner of my eyes. Sitting on one of the back counters, well within my wobbly telekinetic range, was a dark bottle full of mistakes.
Peach-flavored mistakes, to be exact.
And I planned on drinking the entire thing in one sitting, if only to spite everybody currently standing in my fucking way.
It was juvenile, it was stupid, and it would piss Twilight off to no end if she knew.
“Perfect,” I grumbled, lighting my horn.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in Chapter Twenty Five - The Life and Death of Twilight Sparkle...
Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies A pony story by Joseph Raszagal As inspired by stuff best kept away from children Intermission (Chapter Jazz Hands) – Firecrackers and Beer
~ ~ ~
>Be Jeremy Robin, 16-years-old. Be annoyed.
With a groan, I successfully deflected a pillow as it was thrown across the room towards my face.
"You're getting up, you're putting on some shoes, and dammit, you're going to have some fun," Emily spat at me, throwing a pair of bluejeans at my face as well. The pants struck home where the pillow missed. "Hermit away long enough in that bed and it's going to develop a fungus or something. Jeremy Rot."
"You're not the Fun Police and I'm innocent until proven guilty anyway," I growled back. "What's the fucking occasion?"
Shaking her head, my big sister chided, "The 4th of July, you big dip. The day it's most legal to blow stuff up." Smiling, she added, "I figured maybe we could take some firecrackers and make mischief out by the Liberty Street bridge."
The eyebrow waggle at the end was what really sold it.
Slipping into the jeans, I smiled back and said, "Heh, alright, I'm game. I'm guessing you already have the crackers?"
"Now we just have to get down to Liberty Street to make the soup."
A pair of shoes and a backpack later, I made my way to the kitchen and loaded myself down with a 12-Pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, the beer of cheap champions. By the time I reached the front door, Emily was already at the sidewalk, armed with a duffel bag of dubious content.
"Mom would kill you if she knew," I snickered, jabbing her in the shoulder. She still had three years on me, but I was getting closer to being able to move her with every passing day. "You do know that, right?"
"Well, that's why you're not going to nark on me," she replied, jabbing me back and sending me an embarrassing number of steps away by comparison. "Also, we won't get arrested."
"That too."
As we rounded a corner and started our way towards the bridge, Emily quietly added, "Besides, she's still got it out for you ever since she found that pipe."
Rolling my eyes, I reached down into my right pocket and produced said item, "You mean this pipe?"
Stopping for a second, my big sis sighed, "You actually brought it with you?"
"Well, yeah, I'm supposed to be having fun, right? It's not like I'm not gonna hold a bunch of tiny explosives in my hand and set 'em off or something. Everything'll be fine."
"Jer, the weed was bad enough."
"And you called me a nark," I scoffed, smirking midway through. "Though really, I guess you can't help it; you're my nark. And you are the reason I'm even out here tonight." Pocketing the pipe again, I patted my backpack and said, "I'll... try and go easy on the pipe. Beer'll be fine."
"I appreciate it. You know I just wan~
Patting her on the shoulder, I grinned and laughed, "Seriously, Em, I know. Chill out, it's cool. It's all cool. Let's just go and wreak some havoc."
"Alright," she replied, sharing the grin.
~ ~ ~
As it turned out, empty beer cans made for great sound bombs (well, so long as you use the shit firecrackers; the Black Cats made dangerous shrapnel). It really paid off to be light on our heels too. Five or six cars actually stopped to scream at us, two of the drivers motivated enough to give chase. Track team made me a human blur though, while Emily sailed by me even faster.
Stupid ROTC training, how the Hell was I supposed to compete with that?
Sitting together in the concealing darkness beneath the bridge, we both cracked open a beer and toasted to our childish merry-making.
"To being hooligans," I chuckled.
"To being hooligans," Emily echoed back, taking a big swig.
As we sat there, drinking like high-schoolers playing hookie (which I suppose I still qualified as most of the time), I thought about my big sis. She pissed me off a lot of the time... well, most of the time really, but I guess she could still have her cool moments too.
I guess.
As I made my way over to a bush to take a leak, I looked over my shoulder to make sure she wasn't tailing me. Seeing that she hadn't, I pulled my pipe back out and took a quick toke.
What she didn't know couldn't hurt her.
~ ~ ~
To be continued in our regularly-scheduled programming, Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies...
