> Truancy > by f0st3r21 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > 0.5: Prologue... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Friendship is Magic: Tales of Equestria and Beyond, The Dispute,1st Draft **Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, Equestria** **046 Winter CC** ... Oh~ what year is it? I knew I should have kept better track of those. Well, there's not much I can do about that now... Maybe I'll ask somepony to go through the Records Room and see if there's enough there to calculate that... I'll just skip it for now. Where was I? ... Ah! I was putting this draft together. I'll start again. Friendship is Magic: Tales of Equestria and Beyond, The Dispute,1st Draft **Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, Equestria** **046 Winter CC** Okay. The beginning. The real beginning. Nopony saw that other part. It's an important story, so the first part has to be catchy. "In the magical-" No~ that's a little too quick of an introduction. My little ponies like a little more whimsy than that. Let me see… Oh! "Once upon a time," yeah, that's better, "in the magical land of Equestria..." I mean, this affected the whole of Equus, but my little ponies don't usually look beyond their towns or villages -let alone the national borders. Mm~ yeah, I think just 'Equestria' should be fine. "... There were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony-" technically we maintained, preserved, or spread harmony. Harmony herself is the one who creates it through my little ponies and others, "-for all the land." "To do this, the eldest used her alicorn powers-" well, no. That's kind of right but also not. 'Alicorn' as I understand it just means 'to have at least three pony tribe traits.' There's nature pony, pegasus, unicorn, thestral, and crystal pony to name a few of the largest groups that can be found nowadays. There's also rainbow pony, seapony, flutter pony, and a few others; but those are so rare I've never even seen them -only heard rumors about them in ancient texts that survived Skyros and a few excerpts that Clover the Clever managed to preserve. My old friend Starswhirl thought there was validity to the cryptid-like claims of strange pony tribes from the fabled Dream Valley even with no evidence aside from those few scraps of ‘evidence.’ While it's possible for a pony to be born with two traits in their lineage naturally, this is anomalous -rarer than twins or being born one of the various types of genius. It's also possible for ponies to mix with non-ponies, but health complications can be frequent from those pairings. Of which, hippogriffs are the most commonly recognized here in Equestria. Some more study could be dedicated to treating and reducing those risks to help these groups as a whole. As such, I'm not yet convinced these could be counted as their own tribes; though, I have heard rumors of some interesting ponies far, far to the east in Neighpon who may have some stable dragon-blood in their lineage. I should consider contacting that adventurer's guild about working beyond our borders sometime. They have helped certain aspects of this society, but I think my little ponies' civilization has reached a point of stability where those types of services are no longer needed domestically nowadays. They helped create central structures where local governments can be established, but the Royal Guard and -to a lesser degree- the Royal Rangers should be able to cover most of those activities with dangerous creatures, disaster relief, and so forth. Maybe I can find some work for those Adventurers to do beyond the local like mapping unexplored areas within Equestria or making diplomatic visits beyond our borders. Just flying over a place does not quite provide the topographical, geological, or herpetological surveys I've come to expect from the Guild members when commissioned to do them. That would be better than many of the alternatives, I think. Straight up abolishing such an accomplished group of individuals might not pan out so well -especially when they’re still mostly considered heroic. What was I-? Oh, right: unicorn magic. Harmony has truly blessed us all; and while I was myself a nature pony originally, I don't use nature pony magic directly to raise the sun. My other traits help to bolster my unicorn magic. I mean, there are alicorn-specific magics, but I don’t think that applies here. Even when they're being used in tandem to support one or the other, in this case, I'm still using unicorn magic to raise and lower the sun. Right. "... To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn; the younger brought out the moon to begin the night." ... Oh~ how do I handle this part? My little ponies have never been interested in all of the difficult truths of the world. It's just who they are -as ponies and as mortals. They want to love and laugh and live, and they have very little concern for the bad things. Even if the lessons learned in ages past would save them from all kinds of woes in their lives, I don’t know if it’s truly worth sacrificing their innocence. I've never been anything other than a pony; so, I don't know what it is about us, but my little ponies always seem to have troubles when it comes to gritty details. Maybe my age has tempered me, but they don't have the option of youth everlasting. It has been a while, but I remember the days when a herd would lose one to a predator. There would be some mourning, but my little ponies would not dwell on it. They just moved on, because they had to. If they held onto it, the entire herd would suffer; so, they did whatever they could with what time they have. It's ingrained in them to forgive fast, love hard, and be a beautiful -yet brief- existence in this world. Sister was always so much better at remembering and honoring those who moved on to the next life. Honesty and loyalty: she loved those dearly. But my little ponies only wanted to hear about happy things... I... don't even remember how long it's been since... I really should work on establishing an annual chronicle or calendar after I finish this book... if it's even possible at this point? Well, my precious free time is about up for the day. I can finish this story later. I need to lower the sun and raise the moon and then get to sleep. Otherwise, it will be even more tiring to do both in the morning. *sigh* **Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, Equestria** **047 Winter CC** And so concludes another day of normal government business during my Day Court. Dinner is calling to me. "Oh, Celestia, come to us. Eat us. We're ready." So~ ready. Mm~ so~ ready. My steady practiced smile does not need any effort when I can imagine the freshly baked, warm deserts -and the other parts of the meal, of course. Those will be present, too. Smiles, nods, pleasantries. Getting up. Don't groan. Don't creak. Don't sigh or stretch. Oh, my aching withers. It's only a couple hours before lunch and a few more before the evening meal, but court can drag on and take a toll. After dinner, I could use a jack hammer on the knots in my neck -such a wonderful invention by that masseuse, Jacked Back- followed by some tea and a hot bath. Then back to work. Paperwork. The one constant over the centuries: government operations never decrease the paperwork. After all these years, it's almost time to commission construction on yet another underground city whose sole purpose is to be a repository for government records. I'm told the other one is about full. It’s fine, though. The Diamond Dog contractors love that kind of work for we compensate them well, and there are plenty of unsettled mountains left to hollow out. I should have invested all of my personal funds into the paper industry back when those were established. I would have had enough by now to pay ponies to make all the paperwork just go away. 'Use taxpayer funds? No~ here's my own money. Now, I don't want to see anymore paperwork this century, please.' Yup. A whole team to do that for me. That's how I should have done it. But no~ I wanted to be active in all the administrative, legislative, executive, and judicial functions. At least I get fed and bathed... when I remember and have the time. Actually, when was the last time I-? No! Don't sniff yourself in public. You're a princess for Harmony's sake... I'll check later. Almost reminds of that time sister and I were drunk before the nation united around the old capital and playing the ‘Dare Game.’ I almost lost when she dared me to sit on Starswirl’s favorite carpet and scoot around with just my forehooves while howling at the moon to the tune of… that! I'm losing focus; I should not be thinking about this right now. Heh. Listen to me. It's almost like I'm trapped a cage of my own creation, but... well, it's not like I don't deserve it. Ugh~ yeah, I think this is a wine-night tonight. What was I doing? Oh, right: food. Can't run to the table. I have to use the same, gentle, practiced, polished, perfected pace. They're all used to it and recognize it. Dare I say, they love it -love the familiarity: the steadfast reliability of it. Generations of it. I remember when a single day used to seem like so much. Now, an entire generation can sometimes feels like a day if I let it. If I think on it, I can see them all turn to dust by the simple passage of time -no. No. No. I should not let my mind wander like that. It does them no honor and me no favors. Focus on the now. Be with them here in this time... with them in their time. Think of something better. It's almost dinner time, and dinner time means the night is near. I need to remember to tell Sister how much I love her Night. I never told her enough beforehoof. Nopony did. I- ...!! What was that? ... "Your Majesty? Is everything alright?" What? Oh, right. This pony was talking to me. The whole time. And I wasn't even trying to listen. Don't let them see on my face that I wasn't paying any attention. "Please accept my apologies, Marquis, but something has just come up." I will have to make this up to her later. "O- of course, Princess Celestia." The lady lowers her head. I light my horn, and the world flashes gold. Little orbs of various hues slowly float in the aether. Nebulas of borealic shades color the reaches of this place -near and far. It's so much like Sister's Dream Realm, yet it is not quite the same -a firmament between the firmaments, a realm between the realms. Harmony brought us here when we ascended. Sister's is far more intricate and reaches to the minds of all our little ponies. This place exists adjacent to all that exists without being a part of it. Harmony gave this space to us: any who ascend. But right now, I am the only one; so, it is my charge: to protect and to use. I cannot mold it to the same degree as Sister can hers, but I know this place -in and out, every nook and cranny. I know everypony -everycreature- who has ever come. They all ascend to something much greater when they do, and I always feel it whenever somepony enters this place. Surely, something -somepony, somecreature... someone- was here. Yet, I see nopony. Nocreature is here. Curious. My hooves soundlessly fall upon the thaumbic plain that make what I perceive as the ground or floor of this space. There is no gravity here ... unless I ask for it. No up. No down. I do not get false signals when somepony enters. At least, it’s never happened before… The only beings who would even know about this place are strictly few. Most of them are ascended or have passed on or are indisposed- huh... More curious. Markings... on the aether? How does that even- I did not think it was possible to leave a mess of any kind in this place. Thaumatic discharge, ethereal residues... Different types? There was at least one visitor. Possibly others? But where are they? I've never met an Ascended who returned on their own; they wouldn’t know how just after ascending. Hmm~ curiouser and curiouser. What would cause a multi-ascension event? Oh? What's this? "Where did you come from, little green feather?" The sound of my voice travels gently in the deep. Downy. Does not belong to an adult...? *sigh* What a puzzle. I've never brought anything material from here. It's not a physical place. Being here is to be without matter. Nothing here is supposed to be substantive. But if this was somehow left behind, I think I'll try to take this back with me. How else could it remain without its metaphysical owner otherwise? The feather stayed? Eureka! Now... How do I find the pony this belongs to? The Department of Royal Investigations, Special Interests unit is small and recently founded, but I established it to help me work on mysteries like this. Yes, that is a good place to start. I think I'll also notify gentry and a few other officials in the Guard, elected offices, and maybe even the Royal Rangers -just in case- as it is difficult to say where the owner of this feather disembarked from the Alicorn's Astral Plane. > 1: Incursion > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "...Say unto Our Sist'r, 'Prithee, harken unto Our supplications! Dearest Sist'r, We art s'rry! We shalt declare this to the heav'ns and even unto Harm'ny, Herself, to the end of Our days: We art so s'rry..." **Unknown location** **Incursion Day minus Twenty, current year** "With that vote being unanimous, we hereby agree to leave behind our old names. Amongst ourselves, we will henceforth use codenames. We will use the codenames for each other here and after egress. We are in this together, but the odds of us arriving together is very low. These will be how we recognize one another on Equus, because we will in all likelihood have brand new names given to our new selves soon after arrival." "I will be One," said One. "I will be Two," said Two. "I will be Three," said Three. "I will be Four," said Four. "I will be Kevin," said Kevin. "I will be Six -wait. Kevin? What the hell, dude." "The Roman numeral for five is 'V,'" Kevin said, "and there is a 'V' in Kevin. See? It works on several levels." Four laughs. Six asks, "But what if we change sexes after?" "These are just code names, Six," Kevin answers. "We should get names from Harmony or our new parents or whoever to match our new selves. Right?" “Harmony willing,” Four says. Everyone nods and seems to follow Kevin's line of thinking, who continues, “So, the code name is just a code name." Four adds, “Harmony willing.” One asks, "Can I change mine, then?" "To what?" "I don't know," One says, "Something cool like... Solo or -no!- Optimus." "See what you did, Kevin?" "I'm sorry! I didn't think the number convention was all that clever is all." "Didn't you see that episode of Star Trek?" Two asks. "No." Three starts lighting a cigarette and says, "These code names have to be very short -like one or two symbols. Numbers make the most sense. We're going to be trying to contact each other through public channels without alerting the local indigenous populations; so, we need things that are both innocuous and inconspicuous while hiding in plain sight." Two adds, "We also do not know how much information we will transfer across with us, so keeping it as short as possible seems like the safest bet." "... Okay," One concedes, "I'll be One... but 'Kevin'?" "He'll use 'V' when we have to write it," Two says while looking at Kevin. "Is that acceptable?" Kevin nods. "Okay." Two points at the next in our group. "I will be Six," said Six. "I will be Seven," said Seven. "I will be... The Ocho," said Ocho. Six sighs. Several heads just shake. "So... You actually did it?" One asks. "...We did, yes," Kevin answers. Several backs get congratulatory slaps after a round of applause. "Oh my!" The Ocho vibrates, "This is exciting." "...You guys are geniuses..." Four declares. Kevin says to Four, "We wouldn't have sought this goal if we weren't inspired to do it." Six asks, "And you can actually get us there? Like, there there? Equestria?" Three starts to explain, "I mean... that depends on your definition of 'there' but-" "Wait, what does that mean?" Asks One. "Well," Three continues, "the problem deals with both possibility and probability." "What does that mean?" One asks again. "Keep it simple," Four adds, "please." After a moment of thought, "Not everything that can be conceived exists physically outside of the imagination," Three says, "however, there are places related to the imagination which can exist physically outside of Here; therefore, There is a there to get to." Kevin adds, "The trick is locating it." "You're talking about possibility here?" asks The Ocho. "Yes... well, mostly yes," Three replies. "As in: infinite possibility?" The Ocho seems to be catching on, at least. "Yes. In theory." Two clarifies, "We didn't exactly try to count." "So..." Six inquires, "how do we know the place we're trying to get to is the one we're trying to get to?" Kevin says, "That is where probability comes into the mix." "What does that mean?" One asks. "There is something of a range of probabilities," Two says to One. "..." Seven seems to be following the conversation but is not volunteering to add to it. "I think I see," The Ocho says slowly, "you guys are saying there's multiples of it?" Three answers, "I mean -technically- there are multiples of everything everywhere-" "But you can actually get us to the real one... or one like it?" The Ocho asks. "Like the show?" One is catching on. "The show?" Two states, "No. That's just a show. Fiction." Becoming confused now, One starts to say, "But you said-" Two interjects, "-We said we can get us there: to Equestria. Equus. No one said anything about going inside a cartoon. We're talking about the actual place." Six says, "But... I can conceive of the possibility that the show is a place..." "It doesn't work like that." Three answers Six flatly. "But," Six insists, "isn't it somehow probable if it's possible?" "You're thinking about this too hard," Three says. "We could just strap up to a VR headset if we want the cartoon," Kevin tries to clarify, "we're talking the actual place." "Let that brain of yours rest for a minute. It has enough stress going on." "Don't be mean to Six," Seven says, "The Ocho." The Ocho mumbles an apology. "The actual place, you say?" Four is looking off beyond the walls of this place at something no one can see: hope... for a dream so close to realization -a dream all eight of them have dreamed. Kevin turns to Four, "Relative to a range of probabilities, yes." "How?" Asks One. Kevin walks over to a curtain blocking off most of the room; and with a flourish, he removes it in one clean motion. "..." "That?" Several of the group exclaim. Six exclaims, "It looks like a hand-me-down TARDIS crossed with a homemade Stargate which had a baby with an emotionally stunted passive-aggressive electric chair!" The Ocho says quietly, "... several electric chairs..." Which gets a few chuckles from everyone. Two says with pride, "We have been calling it, 'The Gondola.'" To clarify -mostly to The Ocho- Kevin says, "We weren't exactly aiming to submit it for a beauty contest..." One asks, "And it works?" Kevin tries to answer, "Uh~" "Not sure about that hesitancy..." Says Six. Three states, "I mean, the math works..." "You haven't tested it?" Asks One. Kevin starts, "That's~..." Three continues, "So, there is a catch..." "Here we go," mumbles Six. Sighing, Two adds, "So, it's ki~nd of a one-way deal." "..." "..." "..." "...What?" Asks One. Kevin says, "Um~ think: Terminator rules." Four laughs, "... Ha ha ha~ do you mean we're going to end up naked?" "..." "...I mean... probably," states Kevin. "Wait, seriously?" Four asks. "Well," Kevin starts to answer, "most of the cultures There -as we know them to be- don't operate under the same cultural-clothing rulesets; so~" "Okay, question," One interjects, "so~ if we wanted to come back -if- then, how would we-?" "There is not a way back," Three states. "Yeah," Six says somewhat hopefully, "but they have magic." "This is not magic," Three says pointing to the device, "this is possibility and probability -or more specifically a range of possibilities within Possibility as a whole and a range of probabilities within Probability as a whole." "What do you mean?" Asks One. Kevin tries to help, "We are Here, and Equus is There. 'There' as a place exists as a Possibility. Going there is also a possibility within that range of Possibilities relative to a limited range of probability within the total set of Probabilities. Following?" The silence from everyone was deafening. "So, if coming back was possible -which I doubt it could be- then it would also be contingent upon a relative range of probabilities of Probability within a relative range of possibilities of Possibility." "..." "My head hurts from that," One says. Four asks, "Does anyone else smell purple right now?" Lighting another smoke, Three says, "It's like looking for a single drop of water in the ocean. We can isolate a bay or a cove in that ocean which would likely have that single drop contained within it, and any drop in the vicinity would be close enough to the One that it wouldn't be all that noticeable." The Ocho asks, "But if every drop were like that One, then why would it be necessary to isolate any portion of the whole?" Kevin answers The Ocho, "The range of all Possibilities as a whole are basically the spectrum of infinity -vast beyond imagination and measure- and we here want to get as close as we can to the real deal. Right?" Everyone nods or verbally agrees with Kevin. "Well, in order to make the math manageable, it was necessary to select a portion of that infinity for us to aim for." Two says, "Otherwise, we'd might as well launch ourselves completely blind. We'd end up at eight completely different places within the whole of all Possibility." "And," Three adds, "as I said, 'the math works.'" "Okay," Two tries to go back to answering One's question, "Supposing we were able to come back, we might come back to a place like this one, but there is no way to pinpoint this one specifically." Three mumbles, "And I don't know how we would build circuits or microprocessors from scratch -let alone the other components..." Kevin loudly whispers to Three, "They might not have silicone there, or gold might not be an electrical conductor, the periodic table could have a completely different electron count for each item, or maybe their laws of physics are beyond our ability to construct any form of replication for another Incursion anyway!" Three nods at Kevin. Two adds, "And there is no guarantee Here will act as a stationary target. If we could replicate our current location from There in the Possibilities, there is no way to know that Here won't get nudged to a different space and some other Place will be sitting in our current spot." "Okay. Unknown alien environment. One-way," One admits. "Got it. And we can't take anything with us?" Kevin starts, "Assuming the math is right-" "-the math is right-" Three mumbles so everyone can hear while clicking a lighter. "-we will probably have our memories..." Kevin does not sound fully convinced. "Probably?" Asks Six. "Yes," answers Two, "as we're essentially detaching our aiúa, transporting them to a different place Outside of this one, and reattaching them to a zygote." "..." "..." "..." "What's an ai... ai..wha~?" Asks One. Three answers, "There is approximately one-tenth of one per cent of the body which cannot be accounted for. We are calling that unknown quantity our Aiúa." One looks at Kevin who says, "The soul." One starts to understand what Kevin and Three said but stops as other questions are expressed on One's face in succession. "The math does not work without it. If we send 99.99% of someone but the most essential component of one's being is left behind, then there won’t be much at the Incursion point but a pile of useless elements which would likely present as 'goo.' Smelly goo." "A system rejection," Three states over a freshly lit smoke. "But if we send just that one piece," Two takes up where Kevin leaves off, "then attach it to a zygote then there is a significant chance our beings will be successfully integrated into the foreign system... Harmony willing." Four repeats, "Harmony willing." Kevin further explains, "We just do not have a way to determine how much information is stored in the aiúa. Maybe it has full access to the mind or maybe it's separate. That's why we are being sticklers about the single-character names." Kevin just shrugs with arms open wide. "So," Six tries to add some faux positivity, "we can do some survival studying, and cram for potential career knowledge-" "-What if we don't have any memories after Incursion?" One asks. "We~ uh," Two starts to answer, "are either deposited with our old bodies, given new bodies, or reborn with new ones. The latter is most probable because it would cause the least disturbance and cost the least amount of energy-" Three picks up for Two, "-either with your current mind... part of it, or a new one." "A new mind?" Asks Six. "Dendrites without connections. Think something like amnesia or just a blank slate..." Three states. Slightly disturbed, The Ocho asks, "What is the range of probability that we'll lose the mind we have in this?" Kevin says, "Um~" "I mean," Two says, "the odds of actually getting there is really close to improbable already so~" "Would we still be us if we're given a new mind?" Asks The Ocho. Kevin says, "Um~" Three attempts an answer, "Your aiúa-soul will be the same. It's not possible to know how much of that will translate to neural transposition without actual testing which we can't do. The only way to find out for sure is to take the plunge." "What do you mean by 'survival' studies?" Four asks Six. "Well," Three answers Four before Six can explain, "we found a way to get there: A to B. Going somewhere is wa~y different than both a general location within that somewhere combined with a somewhen..." "So, that whole 'spawning in the Everfree' trope-" "No," Two interrupts Four. "At least, we don't think so. Like Three said, tests would have to be done to know for sure; but we think that whole wild magic thing would most likely serve as a repellant -or a probability multiplier- rather than an improbability attractor. Again, there's no way to know for sure without actually going There to test it." "How much um~" One slowly asks, "uh, danger...?" Two answers One, "It is a real place, One, just as real as Here; there's just as much danger There as there is Here. The types of dangers are different, because magic and other things exist There which do not exist Here the way some dangers exist Here which do not exist There." "Wait," Six says, "Three, about the when and where, you're saying we could end up... Pre-Unification? Or during the conflict between Celestia and Luna?" Kevin answers, "We're saying we could end up pre-G1 or post-G5 or anywhere in between." Two adds, "Supposing all of those are contiguous." "Dear, GOD..." Seven whispers. Three says to Seven, "Yeah, we took Him into account, too," and lights another smoke and takes a slow drag. "Wait. What?" One asks. Soberly, Three says, "The math does not work without It." With some awe, Four breathes, "Fascinating." "... Are you serious? GOD?" One looks to hope someone is going to claim 'gotcha!' and have a good laugh. This does not come. "Well, I mean, it depends on your definition of GOD," says Three, "but, yes, there has to be a connection or... omnipresent condition with some degree of sentience between the Here and There through the infinite possibilities for transverse transposition to be mathematically possible." Kevin says, "Some kind of regulatory force must exist between dimensions to prevent them from bumping into one another, right? Otherwise, that would be a normal thing. It is this that we will attempt to travel through." Two adds, "We also think this connective force may make our target timeframe more probable, but that does not negate the whole spectrum of possible entry points." "Entry points in time?" Six asks. "Correct," Three drags. "..." "...This is heavy, guys..." One says. "Um~ do we bring space suits?" Asks Six. "Again: Terminator rules," Kevin answers Six. "Even if we left with space suits, you'd end up there without them." "And supposing the air at the destination is not breathable," Three explains, "and you could get there with them there would not be a way to replenish your air tanks once those got used up." "We don't know if the air is breathable?" The Ocho asks. Two says, "It's a different dimension or reality or whatever. So~ we have no idea what to expect." Kevin sighs and adds, "And it's not like we can send and retrieve a probe..." "The whole one-way thing..." Four says. "Ri~ght..." says One. "So," The Ocho begins to summarize, "we can get there, but we get There only with our own minds, and there is still a chance we won't have those? We can get there, and we don't know when or where?" "Basically," Three affirms, "yes." "Yeah... supposing we don't get vaporized." One jokes, "Right?" "..." "..." "..." "Right?" One asks again. "It's not like we went there and came ba~ck." Kevin states. "One-way, remember?" Four reminds One. One says to Three, "But you said-" "Hey." Three stops One right there, "The math works! Okay? It works." Kevin claps once good and loudly, "... Any more questions?" "..." After a moment of thinking, Six points to the devices for the Incursion and asks, "What about those? What happens to these after we go?" One adds, "Yeah, that would be bad if someone came along after us." Three waves this off with a new cigarette, "Ah, don't worry about that. I put in a fail-safe." "What does that mean?" Asks The Ocho. Four asks, "Did you guys seriously?" Two nods. "What? What did they do?" Asks One. Kevin says to the group, "There is a self-destruct. It will begin the countdown after the Incursion completes the cycle on this side." Three adds, "Didn't really want to discuss that detail." Seven asks, "Will it affect anyone?" Two answers, "There's a reason we built all this way out in the middle of nowhere. No one will be able to follow us without recreating everything from absolute scratch, and I mean, 'from scratch.' All the equipment, our notes, everything is going bye-bye after we all ride The Gondola." "Well! When do we go?" Asks Four, clapping two hands together. "You seriously still want to go?" Seven asks Four. "After that explanation?" With a growing smile, Four says, "Oh~ yea~h!" Kevin claps Four on the back, "I like your enthusiasm." Three answers Four's question, "Whenever we're ready. It's ready right now," indicating the device, "but... I mean, we should all fill out a will at least..." "Just in case," adds Two. "Maybe do some preparatory studying: survival methods, potential methods for financial security, communication methods for our group, et cetera," adds Kevin. "I don't think there is a 'just in case' in this situation." One says to Two. "I think it's guaranteed." The Ocho proposes, "And maybe write some letters to family or friends." "Those of us who have those, you mean." Four says to The Ocho. "Yeah~ sorry," The Ocho apologizes to the group. "Don't worry about it," Four forgives The Ocho. "I don't have any reason to be sad now. None of us do." "A fresh start," says The Ocho. "A second chance," says One. "A clean slate," says Six. "A new beginning," says Three. "A new world full of wonder," says Two. "A way to find happiness," Kevin smiles and claps Two on the back. Three revels humbly in the camaraderie. "... I'm scared..." Seven voices trepidation. Six says to Seven and to everyone, "We might want to discuss some plans..." "What do you mean?" One asks. "Like what Kevin said," Six answers One, "what do we do if we're all scattered to the winds of time and space? Or just time? Or just space? We need to plan some ways to survive just in case." Four proposes, "How about we work some of these plans out this week and tentatively prepare to depart next week?" Everyone voices approval of this and set themselves to their goal. "Like, set up some rules?" Asks The Ocho. One asks Three, Two, and Kevin, "Just to be clear: if this does not work, um~" Three answers, "Regardless of what happens, when we hit the proverbial 'start button,' our current vessels will no longer be operative receptacles." "What?" Two clarifies, "It's a one-way trip. So let's take some time and think this through. Make sure everyone is without any doubts." "Terminator rules?" Asks The Ocho. "Terminator rules," confirms Kevin by opening up a new pack. "Come on, everyone. Let's get ready." **Government agency, Unknown Location** **Incursion Day, current year** "Director Martin?" "Ah, Mo. Do you have any updates?" the Director asks. "Affirmative. Kahn's team confirmed the seismographs. These here are satellite images of the site. It's quite isolated." "Small mercies," Director Martin breathes. Mo continues, "Lee finished prepping the investigation team. They're awaiting the green light." "Security?" Mo answers, "Did you want to activate them?" The Director points to one of the images. "Infrared shows no residual heat. If this were natural or a conventional weapon, then there'd be fire... Something feels off about this incident, and I think caution is warranted." "Understood. Brown and Garcia's will be ready to go right away." "Good. I'll brief the Capitol.” > 2: Just Breathe > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hoh~? You think we'll just let you go as you are now? ... Oh, ho, hoho no~! A seal I will give you, and it will be as a millstone around your neck to hinder you as you go..." Salt. I smell salt. I smell damp. Nothing seems immediately damp nearby, but there is moisture in the air. Sounds like there might be. Something's coarse. Headache. Kinda sore all over. Throbbing. Well, I suppose that's a decent sign. Aches and throbs means neurological activity and a heartbeat. Smells ought to imply breathing. In. Out. Wow, that's nice! I don't think I've ever just focused on breathing like that before. There is a simple pleasure to breathing. It's good -really good. Fresh and salty smell is alright, too, but not a sweaty kind of salt; and there isn't a lingering fishy odor either. In. Out. Oh~ yeah. Keep that stuff coming. Run through my senses: smell, feel, breathe, feel, smell, breathe -no, wait. That's not right. I'm missing something... several somethings?... *gulp* Okay. I have what I perceive is a mouth. Doesn't really taste like anything. In. Out. There is a gentle swishing? Swooshing? Sounds like water. In. Out. Oh! Sight! If I have eyes, then open up, you buggers. I really hope I have eyes. Those could be helpful. Um~ how do I...? *yawn* Little itchy. Little crusty. Rub that sleep out of'm. That's better. Okay. Now, take this slow and open up. It's not particularly bright. That's something of a relief. But the colors! Wow. Some umbers and tans. And I imagine these might be on the duller side of things. Even so, they are really nice for browns. I could look at these forever. Wood and sand. Grown, hewn, chiseled, treated, placed wood. Evidence of carpentry. Some darkened, some greyed. Some of the grains are prominent; some are withdrawn. Tiny, little rocks are nearby that look like they have been ground down by the slow passage of time. Every time water splashes up against it they're worn a little more: hundreds of years and hundreds more. Tiny granules both soft and coarse. Not a single one shares the exact same color or shape as the one next to it. Countless: beyond the number of stars in the sky, beyond reckoning of the Wise, beyond the memory of the mountains and the astral seas. Some reflect light, some absorb it -all polished to some degree by the processes of a regular tide. Some bigger, some smaller. Each one unique. It gets everywhere. Hehe. I suppose that's all the information I'll get from that for now. Time to expand my search radius to: turning my head somewhere. Do I have a head? I suppose my thinker is placed somewhere prominent and near my viewing windows. Following the wood upwards is more wood. Planks and posts form something of a roof overhead. Not bad. Let's hope that is not a natural formation. Some potential weirdness could abound if that were natural, I think, and I'd really like weirdness to be introduced at a trickle's pace. The wood's not in the best of conditions either. At least, I think that's the case. Seems weather worn while not yet rotten. *yawn* Wakey, wakey, lemon shakey. Looking to one side, there's more sand. The wood above stops thataways while the sand continues underneath. Same thing the other way: more sand. Alright. Let's take this three-hundred and sixty degrees. Ow. Okay. I can't twist my head around all the way, but I don't really need to. I can see directly behind me without straining or turning too far. I do see the source water back there: a shoreline of sorts. It gently laps against the land nearby, and that wood ceiling goes back over to the water a little ways. Oh! It's like a wharf. And this is a beach of some sort. I'm on a beach under a wharf. Not bad. Well, I think I've put this off as long as I can. Time to see what is going on with me. Huh. Okay. That's a furry, black, and green... hoof? Single piece; not cloven; black hard part. Fur fades from black near the nub end to green up my arm -kind of a grassy greeny-green. Is my other? Yup. Two hooves. Underside is a little darker than my arm-fur. Hooves. That's a fun word. Hoo~ves. Hehehe. Hyoo~vz. Wait. I have two hooves here? What's going on in the back? One more there makes three. And the other side? Four. Four hooves. Hyoo~vz. I do not think that is what I had before. What did I have before? Um... Oh, well. I have them now. They are cute, though. Hm~ Can I? Yes! I can tap them together and make that hollow coconut shell sound. *clip clop clip clip* Hehehe. Awesome. Oh, what's that back there? Flicks of black go to and fro around my farthest back end. One side. Then the other. A tail? I have a tail? That's weird. I'm pretty sure I did not nave one of those before, either. It seemed to be on autopilot. But can I? Oh, yeah! I can move it. That's an odd sensation. I don't think I had muscles like that before. Left. Right. Left. Right. Up. Down. A~nd around in a circle. Cool! Weird but cool. Gonna have to build up some stamina back there, too. Guess I am equine in shape? What else has four uncloven hooves and a full, bushy tail? I can't think of much outside of equine. Mules are equines, right? Horses. Ponies. Um... Cows? Jack@ass... Somehow, I think I've been called that before... I'll call myself an equine for now. Alright, Tail, 'As you were.' Outstanding, soldier. I think I like you. I'll keep you. 'Swish at will.' And what do we have here? Green, downy, meaty lumps on my back. One side. And the other. Wait. ... Wait. ... Do I have wings? Am I a equine with wings? That is awesome! Can I move them? "Gah," *hurk*, "grrr- ha~ kah, kah, kah, ksh~!" Hah! Hoo~ They opened up! Dang, that was tough. Feels like I almost popped something there. I think. Right. Breathe, Me. In. Out. Doin' okay back there, Tail? Good. Wings? You know, it's almost like I've never... used them... before... Huh. That makes sense for some reason -especially if I wasn't an equine before now or if I did not have wings before. It's another set of muscles for which no prior neuro-pathways existed. Tail didn't seem quite this tough, but it wasn't as easy and looking around. Figure that one out. Alright. Lets check out their range of motion. Down. Good. Now, how high? *ugh* Okay. That's pretty high. Forward. Back. Middle. Level. Tilt forward. "Hah." Good. Tilt back. "Urh." A~nd bring it around town. Bring it arou~nd to~wn. And fold back... Wait. How do I? Okay~ bending, bending. Right there. Now, fold back in. Woof! I need to work on that. *sigh* That's tiring for a first time but seems a little easier now than at that first opening. Unfurling? "Hm." Wait. Why does my voice sound like that? Should it be that high? In. Out. In. Out. "Bladda, bibble, grggle, b-b-b-b-b, la da da, lu-lu-lu-lu-lu." Hmm. Yup. Okay. Voice seems to be working. Mouth muscles operative. Good. Good. Pitch seems kind of... off, though. Alright. Need to check something. Can't quite do that in loaf-mode, I guess. Time to stand up for a sec. Hm~? Okay. I can do this. In. Plant forehooves. Out. Prepare hind hooves. A~nd push! Push! "Guhr~rah~!" Stop. Shaking... Knees! Al~most. Push d@mn you~! "Guh! Hah~" There we go. In. Out. Woo! That feels like it was tougher than it should have been -or at least, tougher than I think it used to be. In. Out. In. Out. Ah~ breathing is amazing! I'd like to say that I wasn't as cognizant of this simple pleasure before now, but I like it. I think I'll keep that going. A good habit: breathing. One must reward oneself after all. Maybe I should lay down and take a break -wait! Nope. I just got up. Don't want to go through all that again right away. Okay. Let's see what we got going on down there. Hehe, belly's fairly bare. That's weird given the rest of me is covered, and -ah! That would make me a... boy? colt? Stallion? Need a point of reference for myself. Maybe things are opposite here from what they were Before? That would be a little weird. But not weirder than whatever I'm going through right now... I hope... I could be young by the way I sound. I suppose I might also be older with a super high voice. I'd rather the former of those two options. Please let me be young... but not too young. Definitely do not want to do puberty again. Ugh. Hm~ or maybe I do? Don't think I ever really thought about that Before. Maybe it would be easier a second time? Or maybe equines have it rougher than whatever I was Before... I'll have to look into that later. Tide could be out right now. Wood makes a bit of a wall. A high tide wall? A water break? Most likely an engineered structure to prevent erosion: a sign of intelligence. Good. That is a good sign. Hard to see over or around it from here. I need to get off of this beach and up on this wharf. Don't see a ladder or stairs. I suppose it's not a popular beach if the tide goes all the way up to the wall. I don't know if my wing muscles are good enough to hop up onto the warf, but I guess wouldn't be so bad a thing to fall down upon sand if I fail my first flight. Equines... horse, pony, donkey, zebra... couple other kinds I forget. I seem to remember a story about ponies with magic, wings, and such. Oh, I hope I'm a pony! I suppose I'll have to make a bunch of assumptions for now till I can learn stuff. So, I'll make that assumption for now: I'm a pony. A pony pegasus under a warf on a beach by myself. Quite sure this is not where I was Before. Pretty sure pegasi were not present where I was Before either. Don't know that many places a pony pegasus would be naturally: near a rainbow, surrounded by glitter or sparkles, something to do with cake, um... Canada? What's a Canada? I feel like that should mean something to me... Meh. Ooh! Equestria. That's a word I know. Could this be Equestria? Did I do that thing where I wake up as a pony in one of those Equestrias? I hope this isn't one of the weird ones. Some of those are super weird -like out there, like pudding and a glove, like... I think the word Discord should mean something. And some are scary... Maybe I'd rather have weird than scary. But this would be so awesome if is is one of the normal ones! I could go to school again! ... D@mn that sounds lame, but I'd totally do it. I'd do it with bells on. Or get a job -like a second chance at life! I'd so do it right this time. None of the mistakes from before. "Ha, ha, ha!" Who wouldn't laugh in spite of themselves in such a situation? How often do blessings like this get handed -oops- hooved, "Hehe," to someone -somepony- like me? A nopony like me gets to try again! Hyoo~vz. I feel as light as a feather. "Ha!" I'm as happy as an angel. "Hoo!" I'm as merry as a schoolboy -oops- schoolpony. "Hee, hee!" I'm as giddy as a drunken man -er- pony. "Ha, ha, ha!" Oh, you like that, Tail? Swish, swish, swish. That's good. Keep up the good work, Tail. I'm going to have to figure out what you like and chase you at some point. Unless tail chasing is a faux pas social rule? ... rules... hm~ I seem to remember some rules... from Before. Let's see... Rule Number One: do not harm anypony or anycreature. Sounds like your standard Golden Rule. Nice. And Rule Number... Three -maybe- is like it: Live by the Tenets of Harmony as best as possible. I think that's doable. What are those Tenants? Love, Laughter, Loyalty, Honesty, Charity... Friendship? Something like that. I'll figure it out. Mm~ there were other Rules... what was Two? ... Something about time? Certain events and not interfering? Maybe. Of course, that's the one I forget. It's fine though. I just have to grow up and find a job. No pony of significance will know, and that's all there is to that. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Might be other rules or extrapolations or clarifications of the Big Three, but those ones should cover most bases for conduct... I think. I think there were a bunch of Conditions or Contingencies, too. Some of which include ways to make money without corrupting economies, a ban on weapon creation, something about libraries or newspapers in order to get clandestine messages to or from... someone... Meh. I'm sure it'll come back to me. Harmony won't do me dirty like that... ...Dirty like my cute hyoo~vz and swishy Tail! Squee~ a nopony like me gets to try again at life! Oh, this is... how does one describe such a sensation? Hm~ Hey, Tail, you're black. No stripes or highlights. Nice. My coat is green but fades to black near my hooves. Green feathers. I'll need a reflection to see my eyes. My mane is -ow! What the-? Mane is there: black. But that. That there is a lump and a half. Oo~h and tender when I touch it. Maybe I landed on my head? "Um," no holes in the warf that I can see. No skid marks on the beach. That implies I washed up? Maybe. That or I just appeared here. Teleportation into transmogrification, portal based transformation, magical coalescence of a fully functioning organic body? Of all the impossibilities, that last one seems really unlikely. Metempsychosis seems far more universally energy efficient if there's a dimensional transfer. ... How the buck do I know those words? "Ha!" I used 'buck' and not the other one. Could be that I hit a rock or one of the dock pillars if I rode in on the tide. I wouldn't put it past me to end up brain damaged on Day One. Lump isn't really soft, though. Somewhat conical. Don't think I've ever had anything imbedded in my skull before -no experience with intracranial foreign bodies... At least, I don't think so... Not sure what that would feel like. Probably worse than this. Running a hoof along the other parts of my noggin doesn't reveal any gaps -no brain bits in my mane. No blood on my hoof. Just some sand. Nothing squishy or crusty around the base of the lump. Smooth transition at the root. That would mean... this is natural? Wait. This couldn't be a- In. Out. Wait. This can't be a- In. Out. No, no, nonono. D@mnit no. This is not a- In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Okay. Take it easy. Think this through. Every problem is just a solution you haven't found yet. That's all... Yeah~ Maybe. Maybe it actually is one. It might be. But if it is, then why is it so short? It doesn't poke through my mane. So, this could mean nothing. Right? Maybe this version of Equestria is one of many -if that's where this is. I'll definitely have to deal with that later. Maybe there are lots of pegasi with horns. Right? Maybe? Could be inert -just a genetic variation. Or- or maybe it's because I'm a new pony, and new ponies get these to push our way out of our mothers? Like an 'egg tooth.' This could be normal -a totally normal, everyday, normal, normal- thing... ...Or maybe this is extremely rare. Rule Two. Sh~ no! Nope. Don't spiral. This is not the time. Bearings: maybe I'm not in Equestria at all? That's a sad thought. Please don't let that be the case. I can work with a place I have some understanding about. Not sure I could deal with some place totally foreign to my imagination without any point of reference. Right. Now, I really need to find our where I am. Alright, Legs. Let's move out from under this warf. Let's see. Hind legs probably do the bulk of the propelling -pushing from the back- and front do... steering? Balance? Some pulling- "Hrk!" Ow. Ugh, no one saw me face plant, right? No? Good. That never happened. Let's back up. No... get back up. Up. "Mm~" Yup. There we go. A touch easier the second time. Okay. Four legs. Four legs. Maybe if I look at where I want to go and not really think about it -hey! It's working. "Ha, ha, ha!" Victorious. Take that, haters- "Hrk!" Ow. Third time's the- "Hrk!" Alright. Money shot. Yeah, there we go. A little this way. Turn. Careful, careful. Don't look at my hooves; look where I want to go. Nice. A little that way. Good. A~nd back to the start. Now: your turn, Wings. Just have to hop up a few feet... a meter... hooves? I have no idea what units of measurements are here. I can already tell there are some colors I don't know the names for; so, my perception of a foot or meter might be completely skewed right now. Right. Just have to hop up a few... hooves, I guess. Look where I want to go a~nd... nothing. Hm~ guess I have to start these wings up? Like an engine, maybe? I think I have a memory of some pegasi doing that before taking off in some of the episodes. Episodes? Is that right? Rainbow and Scooter's Loo... Those seem like important names. Places? Words? Loos are definitely important... if they exist. I should take an inventory soon about what I think I remember about this situation; it's mostly just names and little tidbits with each. That's another few for my list of things to do later. Whatever. Focus on the task at hoof. Hehe. Task at hoof. Okay. Flap. Flap, you flappy flappers. Good. Faster. Now, target: top of the warf's deck. Little hop to help lift -woo! I'm doing it! This is aweso- "-Oh, sh-!" Ah! Hm~ bollocks! My knees. I... think those parts are knees... Ah, breathe it out. In. Out. In. Out. Rr~ gonna feel that later. Face- nose- muzzle? Hoof, give my snoot its first boop... Be gentle now. *squee* Nice. Alright, what's the damage? Eh, just a couple drops of blood. Nothing flowing. Good. That's not a big deal. I'll rub some dirt in it later. ... Is dirt comprised of the same materials as they were Before? Hm~ maybe I should hold off on rubbing things for now. Guess my first flight was a tad shallow on entry. Did anypony see me eat it over the deck railing? No? Good. Pride remains intact as well as my perfect flight record... as far as anypony knows. Could always be worse, I suppose: could have busted one of my potatoes... I have two potatoes, right? In. Out. Okay, one... and two. Yup. I got'em. > 2.5: A Little Spiral Behind a Coil > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Silver lining: I suppose that additional experience of pain is confirmation that this place is not Heaven or some other afterlife; and since there are periods in between the pain where there isn't any pain, then this place isn't Hell either. I can feel good. I can feel bad. I can think. I believe that covers most ontological bases that a dream wouldn't usually dare try. I think there's another test about someone else gaining knowledge without my knowledge of it, but that sounds like some trouble. Therefore, for the time being, I think I can assume I am real and so is everything else around me -until I encounter something to challenge that. And I really hope that doesn't happen. I've a growing list of problems, and I am not equipped for an epistemological one... How do I even know these words? ... Sh!t. Ignoring all that for now. Got bigger issues, I think: water, food, shelter, when, where, who, what… Gotta make the best decisions you can with the best information you have, after all; and right now no decision or refusing to decide are also decisions. In. Out. Alright, on your hooves, Me. Me… Hm~ Don't seem to remember my name. Pretty sure I had one. That's~ probably not good. I'll have to add that to the list, too -an ever lengthening list. Name seems pretty low on the priorities for now. Let's do some orientation for now. On top of a warf. Where am I? That is a coil of rope -or at least, it's what I think I would perceive as a coil of rope. For all I know, it's called something entirely different here with completely different properties. And possibly gravity isn't considered a theoretical force on this planet. I did just basically fly a short distance despite the crash -that nopony saw or can testify occurred!- and if magic and Discord exists then- ah. Yup. Impossible may very well be a rule of physics around here. How does one prepare for that? Questions for later. Focus, Brain. Hey. Do not blame me for your focus issues. You- but- what? Focus, dude. You got sh!t to do. Oh, right. Thanks, Brain. Everybody gets one. ...Wait. What! That was my one? That's not fair. I want a re-do! ... Brain? Brain! That's not fair! ...Bu~ck. Oh, the rope! I'm going to call it 'rope' for now. Seems like a pretty big coil. Are they supposed to be that big? Ocean is out thataways -at least, I assume its an ocean by the smell of the salt and assuming their table of elements matches up and combines with those I know in the ways I know. I wonder if salt affects equines in this world like it did wherever I was Before. Toxicosis is akin to inebriation, right? Could I be drunk on salt right now? Is that why I'm... Hm~ I don't think I feel drunk. Don't taste salt in my mouth. None on my lips. Little bit of sand in my fur. I can smell a little salt from the sand... mm, tastes like sand. Okay, I think I'm probably sober. D@mn. Being smashed would answer a lot of questions right now… Maybe I can try that later… Large body of water over there -not much on the horizon and less that I recognize... And the other way is: a city or what I assume is a city. Buildings. Lots of them. Okay... I don't immediately recognize it. What town names do I know? Ponyville and Canterlot… um~ is that all? Maybe I’ll remember more later. … Well, that looks too big to be Ponyville, and I think that town is near a forest -not a salty body of water. Canterlot is supposed to be landlocked as well -maybe- and might be on the side of a mountain somewhere… I’d like to see how that was done. The place before me does not resemble anything particularly iconic between those two. Nuts. Shadows- the sun is a little bit behind the buildings. Could be morning or evening. I'm pretty sure the sun is supposed to go East to West on Equus. Do I know that? ...Ugh~ Okay. I need to stop. Just assume some things and then adjust accordingly afterwards. For the moment, I am going to assume I am on Equus -the planet on which the country of Equestria is located... I think. At least, that's what my mind wants to assume -assuming that is where I am. Harmony, please don't let this be some insane or post-apocalyptic zombie planet. And I'm assuming the sun goes from East to West for now. Definitely need to find a history book soon… and a science book… ooh- and magic! Hm~ can I read? I hope we all speak and write something similar. That could make everything wa~y easier if the language barrier is not a barrier. I do suppose the odds are rather astronomical that the inhabitants of this world would use the same language as the one I used Before, though. Closer to me, near the ground, there is some movement. Equine shapes on a... boardwalk? Focus, Eyes. You two can do it. The ponies don't seem that far away -relatively speaking... and they are bi~g. Way bigger than me. Am I super small? This isn't like a Gulliver's Travels type of thing, is it? No~ I can see over this coil of rope but just barely... Yeah, I think I'm just small. Wait. In. Out. I've got -what I assume are- male parts. Wait. In. Out. I might not be big enough to be a stallion. Wait. In. Out. I may or may not be big enough to be a colt. Wait. In. Out. In. Out. I might be a foal. What... A foal? What! Actually, that makes some sense. I seem to remember somepony saying something about zygotes and the ‘path of least resistance’ rule or something. I might be a foal: a young equine child. A little pegasus with an even littler horn. There was a word for that, right? What types are there? Pegasi, unicorns, the regular ones, zebras, um... bats maybe? I think there were a bunch, actually. Some that swim. One that disguises itself. I think there is one with cloven hooves and fire. Hmm... and then there were the rare ones that were mixtures. ... Something with corn? Haul-the-corn, maul-the-corn, ball-of-corn… All-the-corn? Yeah. That sounds close. I might be one of those with all-the-corns. Whose corn is it? Mine. All mine. That's who. I think I remember there was... is... will be an all-the-corn baby. Only one all-the-corn baby. When that event happens depends on when I am now. Alley-corn? Oh! That's the word: alicorn. Alicorn. Right. I knew that. Alicorns have wings and horns. I think the baby alicorn's name will be Flurry or Skyla or Inova or something, and her horn is huge for a foal. Like super huge. And massive wings... and an extra big head... I wonder how unicorn babies come out with huge honking pokers like that... I think I'll put a pin on that thought and am going to try to be super, super nice to Flurry's mom if I ever meet her. That poor, poor lady. Especially if the horn actually is like an 'egg tooth.' I think it was a kid's show, so they couldn't even think about showing what kind of damage a foal like that could do on egress but... *shudder* "Brr~” She's an alicorn, too, I think... Candy-Enza? Canned-easy? Candy? Candy. Eh, close enough. My horn isn't big like Flurry's -not like any of them, really. So that means I'm not likely in Flurry's body and merely perceiving myself differently. That's a good thing. Possessing some other pony's body sounds like major trouble. Although I may just be seeing myself one way while the ponies of this world could see me as another. None of my senses feel off; don't think I'm getting mixed signals... I'll have to monitor that. The alicorns I think I know about are all female. They are all female... Unless they're all gender swapped in this universe? No evidence of that from this warf, and I can't really tell from those ponies I can see walking around the boardwalk. Most look like earth-ponies. Earth-ponies: the word for ‘regular ponies’ -supposing those terms are even used in that way. Except I don't think they're regular the way I think of as regular. Earth-ponies from Equestria should have their own magics the way the others have their own types which would make them as magical as anything else. Right? Ah, that one over there is a unicorn. Horn is visible. Bigger than mine. Maybe they are all born small like mine and get bigger as a pony grows? Or maybe I'm going to get called all kinds of things: microhorn, nub, stumpy? And other ponies will say things like, 'Small up there, small down there,' 'At least he can cast a spell for a few seconds,' 'Might as well just use the mare's room,' and, 'Wait, you're a dude?' Geeze, thanks, everypony. Whatever. It's how you use it... or maybe mine is just small. Any with wings? Flying around? Yup. There's one. Maybe all pegasi have modest horns like me, but it never came up in the lore? Can't figure any of this out from here by this sampling of the population, I guess; and I don't think there's any way I could verify without getting into somepony's mane to check for microhorns, anyway. Alright. Focus. Focus, dude. You're not focusing on the issues at... hoof? Issues at hoof. Summarize: I'm a pony. Probably a foal. Likely I'm a rare variant -possibly an alicorn. If this is the Equestria that I know of, then alicorns are a big deal. The Equestria I know of does not have male alicorns. Pretty sure my twig and two-berries down there means I'm a male. Knowledge of this would change all kinds of things. Male alicorn plus female alicorns means... More alicorns? If other nations learned that Equestria's alicorns all-of-a-sudden had the ability to start multiplying, how would they react? I’d probably go nuts if it were me. I do not think it would be a good nuts either. Bad nuts. Nasty, dirty, salty nuts. Like World War on Equus levels of nuts. Even if ponies are as harmonious and peaceful as I hope they are, there’s no telling what the other creatures of the world will do. Fear. It can change the kindest, most loving person inside. It can make the tamest person feral. How can anyone know what to expect? What could it do to creatures of Harmony? Make them skiddish? Mistrustful? Dangerous? Even herbivores are the most destructive creatures when cornered and scared and determined to protect their own. And there should be other sentient beings in this world besides ponies. If your nation's rivals found out you were building super weapons, they'd have three choices: submit, build their own super weapons to force a stalemate, or strike you first before you completed construction or development. What other choices are there? Yup. That would be bad. Very bad. That is assuming I am what I think I am, and I am where I think I am. Two very, very big assumptions to be sure, but I only have so much to go off of right now. Maybe it won't be as bad as that? Hope for the best, prepare for the worst... ... Prepare for the worst... One alicorn can raise and lower the sun and moon. Maybe they all can after a certain amount of time. Hell, the Princess of Friendship -whoever that is- is called out to confront hostile forces more than any of the others. Friendship. Magic battles. Friendship! Magic battles! How are those two things related? *** ‘In Equestria, we pony hard, but we friendship harder… wait. Rainbow, what does that even-?’ -Princess of Friendship. *** …I have a lot to learn about this culture. Foreign countries would be right to fear a rapid increase of alicorn population and act accordingly. Thinking of them as super weapons isn't much of a stretch, I don't think. They're all females... and now there is a male. A single male. One. Me. Oh. Oh~ this is bad. I mean, this could be bad. Maybe it's not. Just- just breathe. In. Out. Harmony, help me! Another question: when am I? Maybe I'm late. Maybe it's okay if there's a male alicorn right now, because all of the things that are supposed to happen already have? If I am in Equestria or on their planet Equus, then I will need to know when I am. If it's anytime during or before the end of the events I'm aware of, then... Oh, horseapples -sh!t. I mean: oh, sh!t. Come on, Me. You're still you. You don't know your name or much about where you were before, but you also don't need to be using Pinkie-curses yet -whatever those are supposed to be... Yet... You're a... well, you were a... huh. Well, I think I used to be grown-up enough to swear properly. At least, I remember what bad words are and sort of how they're supposed to be used. That's something. Dude! Get on with it! What? Right. If I'm a foal -if comparing myself to those ponies over there is any indication- in a pony town then… I wonder if I have a family. That would be amazing! Did some magic zap me into existence on the beach or in the water, or was I physically born again into this world -probably not too long ago- like that pony hypothesized? I didn't see any other pony on the beach, and I don't recall any interactions with any other pony or creature up to this point. ...I hope there wasn't some accident at sea. That would -that would be really- no! I don't have time to grieve for a family that may or may not have ever existed. In. Out. That feels good. Focus on that. In. Out. Think about good things. In. Out. I'm probably a foal. Spawning next to dense population might be a good thing for that. If I were a normal foal, I'd just wander around until somepony took me in, and I could just let the systems in place work for me: foster systems, orphanages, government help, or just some kind passer-by... As I am currently, somepony would eventually brush my mane or wash me or nuzzle my head and then -boom- front page news soon followed by boots on the streets, arrows, spears, spells, and screaming… ...Sh!t. This all started out so wonderfully. I was going to be a normal pony, go to school, make friends, get a job… … But I'm not a normal pony. Am I? Probably not. Even if by some miracle male alicorns are not a rarity beyond rarities… None of this is a very harmonious way of thinking. Is it? Probably not when I keep assuming the worst outcomes. In. Out. Calm down. In. Out. Focus. In. Out. Calm. Down. Breathing feels good but hyperventilation does not. Noted. Work through the problems. One thing at a time. In. There are no problems -only solutions I have not found yet. Out. If somepony were to help me, they'd have to be exceptionally tight lipped or remarkably stupid or such a well-known liar that nopony would believe them even if they did talk to others about me. If this is the Equestria that I know, then the pool of candidates meeting those criterion are small indeed. I assume the core cultural principals of this country are: friendship and magic and harmony, I assume. And the magical being responsible for... something in this world is called Harmony. Maybe. In. Out. Harmony, this I promise you, if you're real: there will be no wars in this world on my account. None. I won'd let it. I'll take myself out of the equation if it will save your ponies. Please forgive my intrusion, and... ...I hope you're real, Harmony. Okay. Nope. No tears. Stop it. Not yet. Not now. I got sh!t to do. Focus. In. Out. In. Out. Focus. Is it possible for a foal to survive on the streets of an Equestrian city -unnoticed- long enough to learn how to fend for myself elsewhere? Maybe if I found a Fagin or Artful Dodger... Somehow, I think organized crime is going to be very difficult to locate -let alone to infiltrate as a foal. If the events of the show are concurrent or yet-to-pass, then my goal should be to go and be far away from anypony so that my presence does not derail the successes which are supposed to happen. Background. Maybe I can find some background ponies and just chill off to the side despite my… problem? Hopefully my existence has not changed anything already. Maybe it did. Buck if that’s the case. I only need to be in this city just long enough to grow up some and learn how to survive without ponies -to be alone. Alone... as a -probably mostly- herbivorous herd-centric social species. Curses! Why couldn't I just be a normal pony!? Alicorn sucks and I’m too young for this. Hopefully, the long life of an alicorn does not translate to an extended foalhood, too... I'll cross that bridge later. In. Out. Good things… Okay. My horn is small. My horn is small. My horn is small? Oh! My horn is small! Maybe I can use that? It... should be easier to hide than a big one -supposing it doesn't grow. Just have to move my mane around a bit and -yeah! Probably won’t stay that way when I fly and may have to get something to cover it later, but that should be good for now. It’ll be fine. I just have to be sneaky like a Solid Serpent, baby. While I am -probably- a foal which will garner attention that I don't want, I am also small myself; and small things are usually sneakier than bigger ones. Less noticeable. Those two things are some fine assets for now: small hide-able horn and a small, sneaky, hide-able body. I think I can work with that. I just have to hide and sneak and steal and probably lie. A lot. ... Please don't be angry, Harmony. It’s not because I want to; it’s to save lives… I hope… Hah~ at least, I do feel a little better now. I have some good assets and a plan and a big pile of questions currently without answers, and I did all that without any help from Brain. You hear that!? I did it all by myself. What was that? Sorry. There wasn't anything worth paying attention to, so I didn't. You want to maybe go through all that again? ...Ugh, no. No, I do not. Suit yourself. Jerk. What? Nothing. Now for my next missions: sustenance, shelter, and continuing my orientation. What do foals eat? Am I so young that I have to avoid solids? I got... some teeth. Their positions seem odd, and they are shaped a little differently than I think I used to have. How many teeth are foals supposed to have? Have I weened yet? I... don't know. There is a lot I don't know. That could get tricky. Seriously. Like, if I haven’t weened, how might one stealthily suckle a wet-nurse? Just do a hit-and-run: sneak in, grab a mouthful, and getaway before anypony gets wise? Gonna have to do my best, I guess. Harmony can’t fault me for that… Right? Horses and ponies where I was before were borne able to walk, so my mobility doesn't reveal much for my age. Neither Flurry nor the Cake Twins -whoever they are- were exactly stationary soon after birth -or are... or will be... Next mission: I need a map and a look at the moon. Those could tell me some things about when and where I am. …All while observing the Pony Prime Directive. I am so bucked. I think I'm ready to move from behind this coil of rope and get things started, Harmony. Have mercy on me, please. Okay. Game on, Equestri- woah, look at that butterfly. That’s beautiful. > 3: Stow Away > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "...I shall accept your terms on this condition: pledge your service to me and become one of my Stars..." Alright. I'm on a wharf, behind a coil of old rope which is probably used to tie off boats if or when they make berth, looking at a boardwalk which is somewhat parallel to the beach left to right, and facing a row of buildings -some of which are made of stone but mostly of wood- which seem to be a part of a city or large town. The buildings are not all attached. A few alleys and streets are scattered around and show possible avenues I might be able to take into the city for a little ways. Who knows if they're all dead-ends or mazes beyond what I can see, though? This wharf and that boardwalk look old and worn but not dilapidated -just well-used and exposed to the sun and salt air. I do see ponies out and about but not many. The small bit of hoof-traffic seems to have thinned out a little while I have been up here, looking around, ruminating, panicking, and hiding behind this coil of rope. There are a few other objects sparsely lining the boardwalk: benches, trash cans, a few trash bags next to the cans probably awaiting pickup, lamp posts, and a couple other little things. No one -nopony- hehe. Pony puns. Nopony is looking my way or at me. They're all just doing whatever they're doing. Business as usual. Goo~d. That's goo~d. Nearest object is the first goal to my master plan of 'Navigating the World without Anypony Knowing'... I'll have to workshop that title later. I'm going to get over to that first little 'hiding spot' by the nearest bench. Nice and easy. Quiet. Shh~ with the clippidy cloppidy, Hooves, so be cooperative. Okay? Hooves? Hyoo~vz, hehe. Shh~! Quiet. There we go. Nopony needs to look. Nothing to see here. Quieter now. A little bit quieter now... "Hn!" Ow, my face! Uneven boards jumping up out of nowhere- -Oh, up! Get up! Dang it, Hooves. Cooperate. That's better. Okay. Move. Duck behind it. Breathe. In. Out. Slow my heart. Wow, that thing beats fast. Woo! In. Out. Anyone notice? Doesn't seem like it. Good. Behind a bench. I feel a little exposed here. It's not raised on legs. Seems like a strange design. No back to it. It's just like a long, low, flat, block of wood on top of the boardwalk. No arm rails either. Does that make it a bench? Or would that be more like a 'sitting platform?' I assume it's a bench and that it's for sitting. There's a pony sitting on one over there a little ways down the way on one. Looks like it's having a snack. *gurgle* What was that? Um~ it's coming from me, I think. Below my chest. Stomach? Oh! Ri~ght. I have one of those. Survival. Sustenance. I don't think I'm good enough a flier yet to zip over, swoop down, and snatch that snack and get away with it... I'd probably just crash after one flap. I'm not that good at sneaking with my hooves yet either. My lip smarts from face planting back there. Hooves, that was all your fault. You'll have to make up for it later. Falling on the sand felt way better than the wharf's deck. I bet clouds feel amazing. That's going to be so awesome. I wonder how many I could snatch before they notice some are missing... Depends on just how regulated that industry is, I suppose. Like, how do they keep track of the clouds? Are they numbered? Is there a unit of measurement? And do they reuse them? What happens to the remaining moisture when a pegasus disperses the cloud? Another pony runs up to the one on the bench down the way from around a corner. They exchange some words. Can't make any of it out from here. The one who was eating the snack gets up, tosses the snack in a receptacle next to the bench, and they both retreat back around that corner to parts unknown. Must be something important. Is anypony looking? No? Looks clear. Imma get the rest of that snack. Let's think this through real quick. Running. I haven't tried that yet. Quadrupeds have a different way to do it. The back ones do the bulk of the propulsion, right? Maybe? One speed would use alternate diagonals, possibly. Can't be rocket science. They have different ways to the steps... Gaits! That's the word. Another speed should alternate front and back, I think... I have no idea how any of that would work. The only image in my head is that of a deer or gazelle doing some spring-loaded hippidy-hop, but that uses all four legs at the same time. Sh!t... Well, beggars can't be choosers. On three. One, get ready hooves. Two, get ready legs. Three, push! Woo! Okay. Well, it works. Can't argue with results, I guess. Faster than slinking around. Ha! This is kind of fun. Makes a neat noise: *p-da, p-da* which is noticeably different from the *clip-clop* of walking. Making good time, it feels like. Still no eyes on me yet -oop- almost lost it. Eyes on the road, pal. Sweet. Destination incoming. Hooves? Destination: the bench. It's right there. Getting bigger fast. You can stop anyti- oh! I don't know how to st- "Hrk!" Sunnova... ow~ In. Out. Slowly. In. Out. Slower. In. Out. Need to practice stopping without my face... or my knees... Moving that up the priorities list. A little blood on the bench. It's the right color to be blood, anyway. That's comforting for some reason. Tastes a little different; that's less comforting. I have maybe one hour in this world, and I don't need to be bleeding all over the place just yet -hopefully at all. *gurgle* Oh, yeah! Hungry. No ponies around? Good. Up on the bench. Waste bin isn't too tall, luckily. Can't reach the food inside from here, though. Doesn't smell terrible the bench. The bag isn't plastic. Feels akin to burlap or sackcloth but thinner while still sturdy. A dense flax perhaps? Either way, I think that’s good: no suffocation hazard. Gentle hop with the wings a~nd alley-oop. "Oof." Okay. In the can. Let’s see what we have for dinner. Thing on top is a half-eaten pastry. Looks like it was fried like a fast food apple pie. Mm~ I don't know if the filing is apple, but it tastes apple-like. Who knows if apples here taste like apples from Before? Maybe apples here actually taste like oranges from Before and bananas from Before taste like fish here? I'll have to compare new memories with new taste buds to old memories without the use of my old taste buds... eventually. As long as it doesn’t turn into one of those disgusting jelly bean contests, this could be fun. I might have to keep a journal or something just for flavors. So many things on my to-do list already. It doesn't sting my lip too much -not too tart or citrusy on my split lip. Nice and mushy, too. Feels like I seem to have some trouble with the harder bits. Hm~ I do have some teeth but how many is a pony supposed to have? Jaw doesn't feel particularly powerful: more evidence that I am likely a foal. Note to self: try to focus on soft foods if possible. Little bit of his drink left. Must have been from a food stall nearby of something. Definitely a juice of some type. Not entirely sure what fruit made it. Nice after taste, though. A little tingly. Reminds me of something... Mmm~ whatever it is, I could go for more of that. “Urp.” Excuse me. This is the coolest thing ever: coming to Equus. Everything's jus~t great! So great... Everypony’s just amazing! … “Wha-?” Oh, must’ve napped for a minute. It’s okay. That juice was delicious. I need to keep my eyes open for that stuff. Well, I think I have everything this rubbish bin can give me. Time to get out and... Huh. Not enough room to open my wings. Rim is high up. Not tall enough to crawl out. Okay~ don't panic... ...I might be panicking a little bit... Keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Maybe close my eyes -nope! That makes it worse. In. Out. In. Out. Think. Focus. Think. I don't feel like getting bagged and tossed into a garbage -uh- cart? I haven't seen evidence of trucks. So, I'm assuming things are pulled on carts. ...Guess I'm tippin' it? Rock it? Back and forth. Come on. Really give it to 'er! Little more. Keep breathing. Keep pushing. Little more! "Hr~!" Ugh! The~re! Who's the best can-tipper? Me. Oh, yeah! Brand new record holder right here. Champion. That wasn't so bad. Probably a bit tougher than I think it should have been, but I still did it. Covered with just a little bit of garbage. Lots of salt water over there; that should be good to clean me. Sort of. Maybe? I actually don't know if that's good for pony fur or skin. Oh, look: an apple... Or what I would perceive as most of an apple. Could be called something completely different. Maybe what I used to call 'apples' are called 'donuts' here. Who knows? Not this guy. Must've been at the bottom of the can. It's kind of soft... That's perfect for me! Definitely doesn't taste fresh; but I can eat it like this, and that's just fine. Doesn't taste bad either. Pretty good for an old apple. I must be the greatest Equestrian survivalist of all time. Take that!... whoever it is that sets up -um- difficulties in life... I don't think that's Harmony's job... I really hope that's not Harmony's job... Maybe that's Discord's job, but he might locked up in stone right now depending on when I am... Ugh, that makes my thinker sore. Mm~ I wonder if there's an apple-based restaurant around here. I could just hang around the back of it and- -Two ponies are on the beach staring at me. What. Swallow. Okay. Maybe if I stay still they won't see me anymore? That's a thing with herbivorous herd animals, right?... Right? I seem to remember that from somewhere. Both are earth-ponies. One is slightly larger than the other. I'm next to the bench on the boardwalk just above the wooden tide-wall. Can't tell for sure from this angle, but the farther one looks like it is a male. He has a tanish coat, brownish mane and tail, and… two irises on each side? A ring of green on the inner and brown on the outer. Overall, his colors are more muted than hers; he even has some top-shading with some lighter gradients on his underside. He has thicker fur in certain places: down by his hooves, belly area, and the sides of his face and neck. His whole frame is wider and angular. I'd guess the closest one to be female. From this distance, her lashes are longer, face less angular, body curvier and more subtle but not less muscular. Her coat is a creamy peach, rose and pink mane and tail, blue eyes with a darker outline to her irises. Her colors are slightly more vibrant than his. She has some fur tufts in different places: fluffy on her chest, some flares along the backs of her forelegs and along the back of her flanks. I can see her cutie mark: two cherries slightly off center of a yellow-silver circle. Both have a noticeable roundness to the hinge on their mandibles -very equine-like shape. Their noses -muzzles- are not as large as the equine animal counterparts from Before; I'd equate their ratio akin to that of a middle to short-muzzled dog -small and cute while big enough to increase one’s sinus sensitivity- though his is a bit bigger in size than hers. Herbivores do also need some extra attention to chewing certain foods like hay; perhaps the extra dental space is for such? Oh. Does that mean I’ll have to eat hay? D@mn. That sounds dry… and gross. His irises have been slowly relaxing while hers have been constricting. Both their nostrils flair slightly with each breath. They look so real. Alive- they are alive The fur covering their bodies does not all flow in just one direction the way a cartoon image would ever bother to depict because of how much it would cost to produce such detail; the colors of each hair is not uniform, but my eyes can blend them if I don't focus on that. Their coats are not very long. Can ponies get shaggy? Instead, their coats look so short and soft that I could barely tell they’re covered in fur in some places -except for the tufted spots. Maybe that’s specifically because they’re earth-ponies and unicorns and pegasi have different fur patterns? I suppose pegasi could probably have some high altitude characteristics but also some to reduce drag and dry water quickly… I should get an anatomy book. Either way, the two do not look like cartoons or 3-D models. They look like flesh-and-blood creatures. Their chests rise and fall when they breathe. The muscles on their backs twitch the way equines would from Before. They have muscle bulges around their shoulders and hips and lean lines along their necks and backs. Eyes are open, and ears are pointed right at me. I can see strands of mane and tail flutter with the light breeze off the water. Their eyes are not as caricatured huge as I expected -neither overly large as those drawings from Before but bigger than the equine creatures I once knew. Neither are they fully forward-facing or wholly on the sides. They appear well proportioned… Now that I think about it, my field of vision does seem quite large. More than two-hundred degrees, I think; and if I were to tilt my head just slightly, I could look directly behind me. And there is a light in their eyes. Life. They’re full of life. They do not look like animated characters but instead are flesh, blood, and fur without appearing as amalgamated horrors -not like a freaky blue hedgehog... Why is that a thing I make a comparison to? They look plausible... and incredibly adorable. Are they friends? Or are they on a date, I wonder? Courtship could be completely different here from what I knew Before. At least, they weren't facing off for a duel... Well... I think I can rule that out, but who knows. Dueling could be a standard mating ritual for all I know. One of them might have to show their prowess or something -capable of protecting or providing for the other. It could just as likely be a divorce proceeding, or there may be no dueling allowed whatsoever. Or maybe it's just a regular date as I understand a date to be. Or maybe they were just walking the same direction around the same time, and I'm jumping to conclusions? I literally have no frame of reference for any of this. They're not that far away. This is the closest I've ever been to any other ponies. The slightly smaller one -the one I assume is female- slowly raises one of her forehooves and starts to direct it towards me. Sh!t! She saw me! How the buck did she do that!? Run away~! Ru~n, run, run! Ah my knee~ I hope that doesn't start clicking later. Don't think about it. Sh!t! Just go fast. Help me out here, Wings. Flap, flap, flap! Come on~ Up and over. Don't let me fa~a~ll! Window! D@mnit. Breathe. Jump! Hit the ground running. More of that deer hopping. Have to move. Keep breathing. Turn. Go. Alley. Turn. Keep going. Go, go, go. Ah, my legs burn. Can't keep- -Buck~! Slippery goop. Stupid wall. Trippin' me with your slimey- wait- did that thing have eyes!? Nope. Ignoring that. Don't stop. Don't look back. Keep going. Turn. Run, run, ru~n! Alley. Turn. There's a thing-pile! Is there anything else? Seriously? Nothing? Okay. I'm going in. Get in. Ew~ it's squishy. Whatever. Just have to wriggle deeper. Okay. In. Out. Breathe. In. Out. Breathe, damnit. In. Out. Calm. Quiet. Be still. In the nose. Out the nose. In. Out. Breathe. Be quiet. Okay. I don't hear anything. Okay... That feels better. It's dark here. *yawn* Wings are warm. *yawn* That was nice. It's still dark? Oh, right. I'm in something. A pile of stuff. Let's get out of this. Yup. Just a pile of gunk and junk in an alley. If I didn't have to make space between me and the beach, I'd be willing to come back to this later. But I won’t. Have to get away from that compromised location. Sky is becoming kind of gray. Is that evening twilight or morning twilight? Is there a different word for either? … What's that feeling? ...Oh. Have some 'nature' calling. I haven't done that in this body yet. Huh... how am I supposed to? Maybe if I stand up on my rear hooves and use the wall to balance? Yeah~ a little hip thrust and Imma gonna arc that like a boss! “Ha, ha, ha." Awesome. Champion survivor, right here. I’m really good at this. Next time, I'm going to lift my leg like a dog. Always wanted to try that. I suppose you think that's a normal thing, eh? Modeling your morning rituals after animals? Brain, if you've got any better ideas, I'm open to suggestions. Of course, I've got better ideas. I'm a brain. Why would there be any question about that? Your track record so far isn't exactly stellar. That's just because you're dealing with other things right now. As for myself, I'm also quite busy. Busy with what? That's none of your business. But you're my brain. How is it that any business you do- oh, speaking of business... I'm not sticking around for this. Fine. Go. I can figure this other one out without you... Hey, Tail, you want to lift up for a sec? Nice. At least, someone listens! Hm~ no paper is this alley. Don't think it'll do any good to wipe my 'boom boom' booty with the alley wall. There is a little tuft of grass, though. Dogs do it. Just need a little scoot on there and- "Hruh." Phew! Nice and clean. A dog in my memory used to do that all over the place. Not sure I have the muscles for long-distance scooting like that right now, though. *gurgle* Ugh. I'm going to have trouble figuring out when and where I am if I have to keep diverting my attention to survival foraging. Nothing I can do about that, though. Tiny stomach fills quickly; tiny stomach empties quickly. That's how those things work, I guess. Can't just make hunger and thirst go away by sheer act of will. Don't really see anything that looks like it would have fresh anything in this alley. What is beyond? Just have to stay close to the wall. Be small. Be unseen. Sky is getting bluer. That means it should be early morning. Might be a good time to move about the area. I don’t expect much traffic in early mornings. Otherwise, I might have to hunker down somewhere until- oh. What do we have here? An earth-pony with an applesaucey-colored coat and a light orange mane is pulling what I assume is a modest to small-ish cart. White hat, small brim. White uniform. Something going on with her belly; I don't know what to make of that. Cart looks like it has bottles. Oh! Milk. Is this a milkman -nope. Milkpony? Milkmare? Cart does not look super full. Maybe half the jars seem empty. Must be towards the last portion of her route. Is that a she? I think it's a she. Voice sounds feminine -what I perceive as feminine. She's humming a tune. Okay. This could be fortuitous. What better place for a foal to hide than amongst foal food?... Foals drink milk, right?... Pretty sure ponies are mammalian; so, it can't be bad for me, anyway. She stops near me. Nice. Detaches herself from the cart. Gets a couple jars from the back. There are some empty jars near that doorway. Milkmare approaches the swap point with the fresh product. Door opens. Another pony emerges from the building. Now's my chance. Quickly now. To the cart. Careful. Quiet. Wings. Hop. Flap. Nailed it! Duck down in back. Woo! That was a rush. I'm getting better at this. Knees and face are safe this time. Okay. Breathe. In. Out. Love that breathing stuff! Oh, they're talking. Could be smalltalk. Sounds like… whinnying? Whinnies and knickers. Oh? Oh~ no~ The Equish of Equestria isn't like my language. Or is it? Am I thinking in a language or is this something else? Instinct? Emotion? Hm~ I mean, I think I’m using words... Maybe I can recognize something they're saying? ... Nope. It's not even a halfway Mr. Ed-sounding word-salad. That's straight up horse-speak. D@mnation. Well, maybe my brain is young enough to still be developing language centers. I'll have to ask Brain next time it shows up. Maybe I can pick this up sooner than I think. Reading, though. That could be a problem if their letters are something other, too. Can't learn spells for this horn if I can't read, and I will need at least some spells to forage beyond the city and fend for myself. I don't think there's going to be any Derring Do survival courses for wayward foals or how-to books for young fillies and colts to start camp fires and filter water with their bare hooves. Ascertaining when I am will be tougher, too; if I can't figure out how to read a calendar or a history book or a newspaper -assuming they have those things- then I will have some serious sh!t to wade through. Bunch of bottles back here. Some have a picture of a cow. Some have a picture of... that might be a pony. Kind of yellow, wavy blue mane, freckles on her muzzle. Huh. I wonder if that's a specialty product. Maybe it's specific for mothers with foals? Like baby formula? Alright. I'll cover up with this cloth here. Lucky that's back here. Maybe it's here for in case it rains? The bottle lids do seem to have paper-like woody caps? No plastics. The trash bags in those public cans weren't plastic either. I don't know exactly what they were. Some kind of cloth. *gurgle* Quiet, Stomach. Okay. Make myself small and still. She should bring her delivery cart back to her house or wherever she refills these bottles -a warehouse maybe? Glorious. Another survival skill point goes to me. Just going to hunker down under this tarp. Close my eyes for a bit. Thank you, Harmony. *yawn* Magnificent. I’m the… best… surviv… *gurgle* Oh. Harmony, d@mnit. Getting hungrier. Really hungry. Thirsty, too. How long was I out? Cart is moving. How long has it been? *yawn* Sun's up. More empty bottles than there were before. That means the milkmare hasn't noticed me yet. Good. Little ear flickage. Did she hear my stomach growling? Does that mean something? Are ear flicks only automatic? The bottles clinking are louder than my stomach right now; maybe it’s standard practice for when a pony walks around. I should be okay. And she's humming still -what I assume is humming- and the cart's wheels aren't quiet either. It’s a nice tune -if a little sad. With as few full bottles of milk as there are left, we must be nearing the end of her route. This was a good idea and a good hiding spot. *gurgle* Okay, Stomach, I hear you! Let's try one of these. Bottle comes to my eye level while I sit on my tush. Haunches? Flank? Dang, I'm small! I'm as big as a bottle. Maybe these are big bottles? Eh. Probably not. *sigh* That'll work itself out eventually. I hope. What kind of cap is on this thing? Looks like a pop top. Please, Harmony, let me be strong enough for that. “Hurr,” Ah, this is on there. Maybe if I try my teeth? Nope. Doubt there's a little opener around this cart. Maybe if I lift it and use the rim of the side of the cart? "Guh." Nope. Stupid stumpy little baby arms. If only I had something for grabbing. All I have are hooves. Hm~ but I have been gripping with my hooves. Like that super awesome juice from before. Hooves. Baby hooves. Hyoo~vz. Hehehe. Hey! Focus: food. Maybe if I change my angle? No. Maybe if I change its angle? Tilt it? Nope. Wrap my hind legs around the base? Yeah~ then I can push down from the bottom and push up from at the bottle top? Bet I look really stupid right now. Come o~n, d@mn you! *POP* *splash* “Oh! Sh~" Sugar Honey Iced Tea! Spilled. I'll deal with my furry pony coat later. Time to enjoy the comforts of my victory over this bottle of milk… Wow. That sounds so underwhelming when I put it like that. Whatever. Get in my belly. This tastes pretty good. I'll have to see which kind I got after. Just have to lick up this mess before the milk... mare... It's quiet. Did the cart stop? Sh- she's looking right at me. Okay. Stay still. Seemed to help last time. In. Gently. Out. Subtly. What do I do? Harmony? I'm trying to avoid causing international incidents and wars, here. Therefore, you have a stake in this, too. Come on, don't do me like this, Harmony. Do I go back to the milk and just ignore the fact that I'm stealing some of her livelihood right now? Do I run away? Hooves? Tail? Wings? ... Stomach? ... Brain? Okay, why am I the last one you ask? Deal with this yourself. @ss. ... She's wa~y closer than the ponies from yesterday. There's no tide wall between us here. No, she could totally run me down if she wanted to. I'm almost of full on milk, too. What did they call that lethargy for babies? 'Milk drunk?' Sh!t. I won't get far if I run with a gut full of liquid baby food sloshing around my innards. Probably end up losing it if I shake it too much. There would go all the effort I just spent. "Nyeigh-keh? Quee-poeli hyay-myay nem? Meh hray hay-da!" She's looking around. Squealing and whinnying a bit. Is she confused? Looking for whoever is supposed to be my adult? Whatever. Use this. Drink the rest; drink it fast. ... *slurp, slurp, slurp* ... don’t forget some of the spilled bits… "Mhreh rhenher brmehehheh-keh?" Horse noises… Wha- Woah! She's close now. She came around to the side of the cart. Looking straight at me. Very close. How do they keep seeing through my perfect camouflage of stillness? … Color. That must be it. My green stands out. D@mn. I feel really small and helpless right now. Like, I think my whole self is as big as her head. "Meh heh bireh'dim? Deus reryh hr haiy-keh?" She nickered gently. What's that look she's giving me? Sadness? Pity? Please don't be like that, lady. I successfully pilfered this all on my own. I'm a high-functioning master milk-taker! Come on, with that. "Hray breigh hrm-eh nhren ya, Hy-beh." She said just above a whisper -a volume I would expect to be used around a small child. ... Alright. Well, I'm just gonna go back to the milk here -woah! Is that my- you're lifting me by my scruff? I have a scruff? Huh. How about that. Doesn't really hurt but it pulls everything taught. Not a lot of moving I can do. This is a strange sensation. Bringing me back to the tarp? Oh, you fluffed it, Miss Milkmare Lady? That was nice of you. It's shaped like a nest or donut now. *yawn* Okay~ oh, yeah. That lethargy struck. I'm totally milk drunk alright. Your hat? I guess it does fit over the top of me. Doesn't smell bad either. That's nice. Warm, too. *yawn* Too... sleepy to... deal with this... now... > 4: Case #24-6-01 - Initial Incident Report (Special Edition: Now Featuring One Whole Cake Joke) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Canterlot Castle, Canterlot** **108 Winter CC** That is one big stack of reports. But I did technically ask for this. There are seven provinces here in Equestria with a Marquess or Marquis over each who occasionally rotate with the duchy. In the early days of the nation, the families were local, but a dozen centuries -give or take a few- tend to expand those family trees a tad. Earlies, Counties, Viscounties, Dames, and Baronies were never much of a concern long ago. A pony of sufficient prominence would just make their way into princesshood. 'What use were those other stations,' was the opinion. They weren’t wrong at that time. The sheer size of the tribes and clans, governance of the country, and continued maintenance of Harmony through the land gave rise to the expansion of the gentry. Although, the majority of them merely go about their lives as though the title they posess on a piece of paper is just that: a piece of paper with some ink on it. There are plenty of others who eagerly seek to use those fancy documents to serve the country and their fellow ponies. It's generally treated as an honor and a privelage and a lot of work. How often does a foal grow up watching their sire or dam toil behind a desk think, 'that looks like the life for me?' That is another very good reason to have waiting list of titled ponies; it prevents the 'burn out' as it has come to be called. *Sigh* Someday soon, even I shall... um~ wait. When is my sister-? Did I ever get around to establishing that Annual Chronicle? Sometimes, my pony-brain, I swear... I definitely have to remember to ask Twilight Shimmer when she gets back from mareternity leave. That mare is an outstanding assistant. Ooh~ I can't wait to see her firstborne! Yearlings are one of the few things that never cease to make me feel young... ... Young Twilight Shimmer's substitute should be coming by later today. Crystal Inkwell is an outstanding undersecretary. I'm sure she'll take to the temporary assessment like a duck in water. Okay. Back to the document grind, Celestia. The two provinces in the east are Mareland and Neigh York. The central Equestrian provinces are Manesota, Misakega, and New Mexicolt. Out west are Coltifornia and Colorodeo. Seven summaries from the Provincial Marquesians stacked here show the results of the Annual Census that I enacted some time ago. The Baronies, Knights, and the Mayors collected the information locally and provided that upwards to their respective Counties who worked with their Margraves. In a lot of ways, utilizing that old Heroine’s Guild infrastructure really helped to transform the small community governance system. Wow, I haven’t thought of that Guild in years. Prince Blueblood's office compiled the whole thing and combined the Seven into a one-page aggregate. I love it when the system works. I only have to look at the one; but if I want to go a little deeper, the others are there. All the details are here at my hooves should I need to take a fine toothed tailbrush to it. But this is the Annual Census, after all. Normally, I don’t collect the entire dataset unless I request it. Economic, health, Guard, and policy issues are entirely different animals -though there is always a little overlap- and after all these years, I think I’m pretty good at noticing discrepancies. The detailed reports stacked all around the room here will go to the new and expanding repository on the edge of the Crystal Mountain range near Neighagra. Underground, climate controlled, secured, not adjacent to any other nationstates and is proving to have several strong veins of ore and crystals: a complete win-win-win-win for the country. One of those 'wins' is for all the jobs that project has made and continues to make. The ones in the Unicorn Range and the Foal Mountains are all full now. I still have trouble fathoming that. Okay, Blue, please show me some good news for my little ponies: Census Grand Summary: Total population: 12.1 million. (An overall loss of approx. 0.005% from previous.) Not the worst it's ever been but not great. Overall Summary: Births: 42,000, approx. Noteable increases in Stratusburg, Sire's Hollow, and Rainbow Falls (reference Trial Attempt to Revitalize Rural Equine Populations with Mandatory Herd Minimums Act - TARREP’MH-MA). Mortality: (109,000), approx. Noteable increase in loss from in newly established settlements in New Mexicolt(*2). Metropolitan ratio approx. 5:1 mare to stallion; rural approx. 7:1. Breakdowns in numbers for areas, ages, sex, and respective Marque report citations as follows... Stratusburg, Sire's Hollow, and Rainbow Falls? That's right. Those are the first towns we started testing the mandatory herd minimums a couple years ago. The success in the isolated population increase spurred a gradual rollout of the policy to help my little ponies adapt. The herding culture was much stronger long ago and has naturally come and gone as things do, but something had to be done when these censuses began to reveal the gender ratio and declining population. I should schedule meetings with the Agricultural and Education departments about preparing to increase advertisement and enrollment in the food production and peripheral farming trades... I also need to talk with the Guard about all of the non age-related pony deaths in the frontiers. It is always expected with new settlements, but I think we could do better- *knock, knock* "Enter." "Are you ready for your lunch, Princess?" Elbow Grease, a hard working mare, enters and announces the meal's arrival. Eating at my desk: what a way to use my off-day. "Yes, please, El." She smiles wide and bows out to return with the meal carte. She pulls it close to me. It is larger than usual. She explains, "As you can see, Princess, the actual meal is to the fore of the display: pasta salad with a berry vinagrette; olives, broccolinis, and freshly cut curds; green oats toasted on an apple crumble; and a pitcher of cucumber water. A side of tea and pear wine." She loudly whispers with a hoof by her mouth, “In separate carafes,” and after a pause adds, "That was a joke," with several winks. I usually assume that the tea and wines are kept in independent containers, and we are the only ones in the room. Her presentation is unnecessarily over the top which is one of the reasons I appointed her to this position; I love all the little quirks my little ponies seem to manifest. It’s these types things that make eternal youth feel new each day instead of monotonous and repetitive. They truly are a blessing. "Yes," I giggle, "thank you, El." The feeling makes me recall some of Starswirl’s old tales of the unrivaled innocence and joys of the Frolicking of Paradise Valley… but with significantly less fornication. I suppose I’ll never know if he was making that up to mess with me and Luna or if he possessed some hidden secrets of the pony progenitors’ primordial place of propagation prior to our promulgation from paradise puh-peh-p-pleh pleh… huh. I didn’t know I could tongue tie my own thinker… The maid thinks to herself, ‘It’s those rare faces she makes! Ooh, it’ll take weeks to replicate that one on canvas, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that particular one once I have it.’ She continues to introduce the Princess’ meal, "And chef Light Batter was inspired earlier today and made this," Elbow removes a large cover to reveal a three-layer cake at the back of the carte tray. “He was cryptic about his particular ingredient selection but mentioned chocolate and red berries.” "Mm~ I will most definitely have to thank her later." With a few more winks, Elbow says, “I’m sure she’ll love anything you give her, Princess. Enjoy." The maid bows and exits my working office. Sometimes I wonder if she actually knows what she’s insinuating. It’s really hard to tell given how innocent ponies can be. I should finish Blueblood's... Ah! This: Special AssignmentGreen pegasi: 1,847. Decrease of 157. 43 new(*see addendum*) An addendum? What is this? **For Official Use Only** District 6, Southeast Baltimare Ponice Department SGT Rocky Road, attesting. Date: 093 Spring CC Time: 1930 hours *** Witness #1 Cherry Moon (F), age 22, NP Address: 23 Sea Street, Apt 301 Work: Ice Lily Imports, pier 7, day shift Witness #2 Cobalt (M), age 30, NP Address: 221 High Road, Apt 112 Work: Ruby Moon Logistics, Oak Street, day shift *** Occurrence Approximately 1745 hours, between dock 4-5, east of pier 7, on 093 Spring CC, two witnesses report walking along beach, low tide, sighting of alleged homeless / abandoned foal… eating garbage on East Gate Street North boardwalk. Witnesses report green P foal, apparent Kiger coloration on legs, black mane and tail, green eyes. Claim seeing signs of injury on muzzle: blood. Witness claims foal had not yet developed sclera whites; possible age: 0-3 months, potentially younger. *** Statements Witness #2, "We were walking along the beach when we noticed the trash can tipped over on its own. The foal emerged from it with an apple and started eating it like it was the first thing he's had in Celestia-knows how long. He- he was so happy for that r- rotten f- f- fruit." W2 became emotional. Witness #1, "We just froze and watched. Then it saw us and froze, too." W2 became hysterical at this point during the interview. Attempted to console. W1 claims to have pursued the foal, but it ran. She slipped on the slime trail of a baby smooze and lost sight of it, claims flight path heading north over a building, 31-241 Gate Street. Claims 6-8 hoof (1-1.2 wing) wingspan, approximately 2-3 hoof height to whithers. Witnesses claim to have then collected themselves and sought to nearest city station to report incident. *** Notes Witnesses both distraught. They clearly saw something. Difficult to substantiate based on account. 6-8hf wingspan highly unusual for foal under 2-years; height is reasonable under 1-year. Remind witnesses that specific beach is not generally for public use due to high tide mark, and that it’s still considered a part of the public square. (I.e. no 'hanky panky' permitted in public spaces, according to numerous city ordinances.) No citation necessary at this time. Follow-up recommended on site by BMPD and with emotional well-being of witnesses by recommended therapists. Assign case number - - 24-6-01. *** Signed, SGT Rocky Road *** FWD copy to: Department of Royal Investigations, Special Interests **008 Autumn CC** **For Official Use Only** **Hallway, Canterlot Castle, Canterlot** **108 Winter CC** 'I've spent many seasons apprenticed to Twilight Shimmer, senior assistant to the Princess. She's a very organized mare. It took a few seasons, but she finally convinced her herd-stallion that her employment is stable enough to provide for foals.' 'Stallions. They can be quite fickle -always keeping eyes open and ears swiveling for the mare who will offer the most protection and provision, always looking to make the best nest.’ 'Her herdmates are not assistants to the Princess, but it is well-known as a high stress position with irregular turnover. To combat this reputation, the Princess reorganized her Clerical Wing a while back. There is one Senior Assistant at the top, but the Assistant has an entire Unit of her own assistants to assist the Assistant: assistants, secretaries, and undersecretaries.’ 'To keep from the Senior Assistant from burning out, there is a rotation for that top spot. But if somepony gets a taste for it and actually likes it, then the Princess is always grateful to offer the prime assistancy to such a mare as a more permanent assignment.' 'And now that Twilight Shimmer is out on mareternity, it is my turn.' 'Okay, Crystal. You're poised. You're experienced. You've worked hard and earned this. You can do it.' 'Nice deep breath,' an~d *knock, knock* "E- enter," says the Princess from within her office. Today was the day she was to receive the Census data from Prince Blueblood's offices. It is also supposed to be her off-day. No Day Court today. It's just a day for her to take it easy and recover from the week's toils. One of the two guards opens the door for the mare and closes it once she enters. The Princess is at her desk. It looks like she’s finishing her meal -daubing her muzzle with a kerchief. ‘It’s not good to work and eat at the same time, Princess. You are allowed to take some time away from the bureaucratic burden.’ “Crystal Inkwell, good afternoon.” Sounds like she might have had something spicy. After entry and a professional bow, "Good afternoon, Princess," 'we could all learn from the example of Her work ethi- what the holy hay am I looking at right now!?' 'I can see an entire, intact cake poking through her barrel. Why can I see an entire cake poking through the Princess? What even-? I'm pretty sure the Princess has the same bone structure as any other pony. She's just bigger than the rest of us... Right? But that -that right there- is where ribs should be. Instead, I can see the curvature of a round confectionary. I can even see the bumps from all three layers from the decorative frosting!' 'Even if she could dislocate her jaw like a snake, there is still only so much space between the collar bones and spine. Yet there is a cake right there, sitting in the Princess' belly without any signs of ever being chewed… Mocking me.' 'None of this makes any sense! What's the purpose if she teleported it straight into her gullet? There is no taste that way. Right? Or can alicorns taste things from their insides? ... No, no, that's just silly... but not as silly as a fully intact three-layer cake poking out of the Princess' sides like it's a thing to do. A pony's body is not supposed to work like this.' 'Twilight Shimmer has a foal due in a few weeks, but if the foal rolls over nopony could see the imprint of its muzzle on her tummy. Yet I can clearly see written on the Princess' love handles on that cake inside her, 'Happy Tuesday, Princess.' Is this the kind of thing Twilight deals with every day?' "-and that should yield some results... Ms. Inkwell?" Crystal Inkwell just keeps staring at the Princess' belly. Slightly louder, "Miss Inkwell?" This rouses the mare with a start, "Ah! Y- yes, Princess?" "Is everything alright?" The Princess asks with some concern. The undersecretary begins slowly, measuring her words, "Well, I was wondering..." "Yes?" Celestia asks. "I was wondering..." "Ye~s?" The alicorn inquires with a small increase in curiosity but not too much. She doesn't want to startle the temporary replacement for her current substitute Assistant. "Are you...?" "Yes? Am I what?" The princess is becoming quite intrigued with her new assistant’s hesitant desire. "Are you okay?" The Princess blinks. "Am I.. okay?" Crystal nods. "Well, I did receive some troubling reports here from the gentry about a certain issue I've been looking into, but-" "-No, no," the substitute secretary boldly interrupts her Princess who politely tilts her head at the smaller mare, "I mean..." And she gently points towards the Princess' middle with a forehoof. Princess Celestia's eyes follow Crystal Inkwell's hoof as it aims at her belly, and, "Oh," realizes what the mare has been staring at this whole time. "Yeah~" 'What,’ the assistant’s inner voice states with flat intonation. "I might've gotten a little emotional about one of these reports and may~be got just a teensy little bit *urp* carried away," the larger pony chuckles nervously with some brevity in her voice. The Princess rubs her belly with a shoed forehoof, and the rubbed dent remains after she removes her hoof. Maker above. The dent is still there. That is an actual pony-sized cake! What. The. Buck. "Bu~t," Princess Celestia gets just a little serious, "if it doesn't move soon, I may need a… a hoof." 'Move? A hoof? What does she mean?' Crystal asks, "Uh, Princess, why don't you teleport it out?" The princess lets out a melodious laugh, "But then it wouldn't-“ as she began to explain, a frosting shaped hoof-sized sculpture of the princess escaped from her digestive tomb onto the real princess’s desk. The alicorn noticed immediately and hoofed it back into her masticatory entrance. I will never be able to prove this, but I swear I could hear the sugar-pony quietly squeal something before disappearing. “-ugh,” the princess resumes as if nothing happened, “but then it wouldn’t be here," and pats her cake-bump-belly. 'Wait. Did she mean she'll need help or an actual hoof? Why would she need a hoof specifically?' Seemingly able to read the smaller mare's mind, Princess Celestia makes a labored pushing motion with one of her forehooves with a knowing, strained, and possibly apologetic expression on her face. Everypony in the room can’t help but feel a nearly inaudible rumble in the deep. Us two are the only ones in the room. ‘Twilight Shimmer, you did not train me for this.’ > 5: The Milkmare > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The air is always nice, fresh, and salty in this town. When it's clear, the view of the Celestial Sea on Horseshoe Bay is quite nice, too. I don’t prefer it over the farm, but it does have a different type of soothing ambiance. There's a kind and gentle breeze coming up off the Bay today. Every cloud has a silver lining and are reflecting a brilliant sunrise beyond the cityscape. The sky is lightening and will be a dazzling blue soon. What an ugly day. Baltimare’s a nice enough town, but I prefer my home. I’m just not ready for what’s waiting for me there. And here I am: a milkmare. Hope for the best, prepare for a deluge. That's what I feel like, but I suppose I shouldn't trust feelings right now. *sigh* Doctor Vision told me to try happy activities. "Doingk zhe happy zhings vould help trick your mind into feelingk happy, und zhat vould help get you back on track tovard recowery. Ya?" That was her reasoning. Dancing, hobbies, and songs that may lead to positive feelings which may lead to good feelings which can cascade into Heart Songs which would indicate healing. Such activities were on the list she gave me; she thinks one of those would infuse or recharge me with some harmonic resonance or some such magics and greatly help me. I don't know; today doesn't feel like a Heart Song type of day or even a positive one, but she made me promise to try; so, I suppose I can meet her halfway and hum -see if something comes from it. Humming's like singing, right? I always thought Heart Songs were somewhat rare, but it seems being around more ponies means more potential harmony; so, there's more possibility for such things here than out in the countryside. I actually had one once with my stallion… I really need to talk with him. What am I even doing here? I should look at going back... soon. It's not terribly hard work -being a milkmare- and pays better than starting out as a cashier somewhere. Pay from working on the family farm is a slightly different concept than doing jobs here in the city. The work intensity is different, too. I come in early to fill the special bottles, then load up a little cart for a small residential route, go around and exchange empty bottles for full ones, and then drop it all off back at the company where I finish the work day with the rotolactor again. Some young fillies working for some pocket change wash the empty bottles and do evening deliveries of the special. Some cows on salary provide the bulk of the company’s product. Ponies set their empties out by their doors or on window sills, and I just swap them out. Easier than bucking trees, hauling baskets and cartloads, and the thousands of other jobs back home. Not that I don’t love the farm work but right now I really need a little bit of easy. ‘Easy peasy limestone squeezy,’ one of my cousins likes to say. I don’t understand why she’d squeeze a limestone. I asked once and she said, ‘Well, it’s better than squeezing lemonstones. Those things like to get you in the eye.’ She's not wrong about that, and the sensation of that sentence on the tongue is worth the confusing price of admission. If I were so inclined, I could get a second job for the afternoon. I just don't think I have it in me to go for the bits right now. "Hey, Cup." It's not often somepony is up this early, and those that are rarely have the time to make small talk with their milkmare. "Mornin', Ms. Drops." Her smile falters just a little at the honorific, but she recovers. I know she’s asked several times for me to drop it, but my pa taught me well to respect my elders. And familiarity is a happy feeling that I’m not sure I’ve earned yet -from her or from myself. "How are you doing today?" She asks. I try not to let it show, but I hate that question now. Doc Vision asks it all the time, and I'm tired of finding ways to say, 'Ah’m barely holding it together,' or lying by saying, 'Ah’m having a better day.' I really don’t like lies -especially when they’re mine. "One step at a time, Ah guess." I know she has a sad or worried look on her face while my back is turned, and I do my best to focus on the task at hoof: replacing her empty milk bottles. "Was that you humming? It was a nice tune." She is trying. I can't fault her for that; though , I definitely don’t deserve it right now. She looks tired. Her new foal must be the reason why she's awake at this early hour, and yet she's trying to console me with friendly smalltalk. You're a good mare, Little Drops. "Uh, yeah, the doctor told me music would help keep mah mind from going to... places it shouldn't since- since..." She jumps in quickly, "It's okay, Cup. You don't have to say it." I nod. "Yeah. Ah'm -uh- not really up to try singin' right now, but Ah think Ah can handle a little tune. Jus' a little hummin.'" Try to give her a reassuring smile even if I don't mean it. Her effort deserves some kind of reward. Pigeon somewhere. Silly birds. You can't stain a milkmare’s white uniform with your white poo. Drops’ ears lay back, but she steeled a look of determination and stands those ears back up. "I know it's been hard, Cup. Few ponies can imagine it. But what you're doing now is helping a lot of dams. We won't forget that, and I won't let you forget it either. Okay?" My forehoof makes some small circles on the ground. I want to let my head hang, but a mare has her pride if nothing else. I suppose I'll have the chance to let it all out later at home or with Doc Vision in a couple of days. So, I nod and give her a smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Drops. Yer a- a good friend." Her hug seems to indicate she appreciates me dropping the honorific. I don't think I can take many more stops like this in one day. I've a friend coming with her new foal from Cloudsdale tomorrow morning, and that's going to be hard enough on me as it is. Harmony, have mercy on me. Now there’s an odd sight. A mare is holding a conversation with... a banana? "I am sorry, Miss..." The mare looks at a piece of paper, "Banana Knight? Is that your name or a title?" The mare looks like a well-dressed employee -must be somepony higher up in an organization. The banana -I can't believe I'm even seeing this- appears to be walking on two thin hind legs. I think I read a book once about some cat-type creatures who walked on two legs and are about as short as the... banana. But that is definitely not one of those Abyssinians. "I am afraid a self-proclaimed knighthood is neither recognized by Equestria nor is it a requisite of our executive board position. But we do thank you for your interest-" the mare is professionally and politely telling the banana to find employment elsewhere. "Do you mind if I ask: what do you eat? Are fruit taboo for your... species? And why is your lance shaped like a banana? If the Royal Guard used pony-shaped spears, nopony would take them seriously. You know?" The mare does make some good points. I cannot hear any reply from the yellow-skinned biped, and I can't quite see any facial expressions from this side of its grated helmet. Oh well. I've got deliveries to make, and I can't afford to stay around and gaze at the... local flora. I think I'll try and avoid this street from now on. Sometimes it's best to get the crazy parts of a day done with early. Almost noon. Route's mostly done. That storm drain is complaining today. Odd. What do you have to gurgle about? It didn't even rain. I don't know what I want to do today -besides try and forget. I can't get lost in drink because of my job right now. Maybe I could find a book? At some point, I need to put an add in the paper: new, unused foal / yearling paraphernalia for sale - cheap. Somepony should get some use out of that stuff. Applebutter sure won't b- be a- a- able- *POP* Hm? What was that? A slight turn of my head is all I need to look behind me into the cart from my pulling position while keeping my other eye on the road. Oh, it's just a foal. Do I have a book at home or should I stop by the library? If I check out a book from the library, what genre am I in the mood to- *splash* -Wait. There's a foal... in... my cart? What? This can't be real... …But there it is: drinking messily. How did- what was- where... A pegasus? Did it fall from a building? No. There aren't any residences here, and it looks too young to have flown far although its wings are pretty big for one so small. And I’m quite sure a pegasus would notice if the weight of a foal suddenly vanished. I seem to have come to a full stop at some point, and the foal just noticed. It also notices me. Wh- what do I do? We just stare at each other for a little while as my brain seems to shut down and restart. "Hello?" I call out to the empty city street. "Is somepony missing a foal? There's a foal here!" Of all the times for a block to be deserted... well, I suppose it won't hurt to get a closer look. Sweet Celestia, it's licking spilled milk off the cart like it's starving! It's covered in it, too. Aw~ and it's a colt... A colt? Just like my Applebu- no. Don't do that to yourself, Cup. He's hungry and covered in milk and *sniff* -eugh- and Celestia knows what else. Wow! How long has it been since you last bathed, little one? How long have you been alone?... Too long. Too long. Me, too, I suppose. Nopony is coming for you. Are they? "Where'd you come from, little one?" No, no. It's okay. I won't hurt you. Harmony, what do I do in a situation like this? "Are you alone, too? You can stay with me, if you want," for a little while at least. I don't think I mind the idea. Let's see, the foaling book said to lift by their scruff like the- oh, by Celestia's unkempt mare-garden! The word, 'odor,' isn't strong enough for this. You'd have to use the fancy Prench spelling, 'odour,' because that makes it sound stronger and worse for some reason. And he tastes worse than he smells! I've had onions assault my muzzle gentler than this. Dirty skunk junk would be an improvement. Buck me sideways! Where is that tarp? I think I can form a quick little nest-bed there from that. Make my deposit. Okay. I'll cover you up, little one, with... um~ oh! My hat. It's just a part of the uniform -no big deal- and it'll prevent your stank from wafting my way. Aw~ that little yawn. Yeah, I think sacrificing that hat for this is a worthwhile ending for the article of clothing. *hurk!* There goes what's left of breakfast... and that still tasted better than whatever he's been rolling around in. Buck. After a shudder and a few more dry heaves, I can hitch back up to the cart. *hurk!* Luckily, the company isn't far away. Now that I know he's back there, I can keep an ear on him -yup, still there and snoozing away. Why don’t I keep any mouthwash in my work locker? Never crossed my mind before, but it just makes so much sense right now. Inside, none of the cows are hangin' around during midday per usual. They're usually here for the early mornings and mid-afternoons. I imagine they do other jobs in-the-between, but we don't talk too much beyond pleasantries. Around here, I just do some residential deliveries and my own little contribution for dams. It's a relatively small business: small warehouse with a few cart and bottle storage stalls, a partitioned office, some processing equipment, and a collection area. It does not take long to unload the empty bottles by the washing station, but I take a little extra time trying to be quiet about it so as not to wake the foal. It's just a few steps to the office. I can still keep an eye on my cart from there. "Bristle? Mister Bristle?" I try to quietly call for him -comes off as regular talking. An older stallion replies. As the floor manager, he usually stays in the office doing schedules, payroll, and the like -as well as avoiding the cows. In general, they're cordial enough to mares, but their manners with stallions is considered to be a little too direct -sometimes vulgar. "Eh? What? Who is it?" That thick east coast Equestrian accent never fails to raise my spirits somehow. It's a stark contrast to my family's speech patterns. "It's me, Mister Bristle. It's Cup." "Oh," his head emerges from the office, "I t'ought maybe some uh d'cows came back 'rly." I shake my head. "No, sir. Ah just wanted to remind you that Ah have a few days off scheduled." "Oh?" His head disappears back into his office briefly before reemerging. "Right. I'm trackin’ dat," he says as he looks at a paper held in his hoof with a schedule grid on it. "Couple uh days, right?" "Yessir, Ah've a friend supposed to be arrivin’ soon." "Dat's awfully gud o'youse, Cup. We really 'ppreciate youse 'round 'ere..." He trails off a bit. I've seen that mannerism many times these last couple of weeks: he wants to say something that will make everything all better but gets just as stumped as everypony else when the time comes. You might look and sound tough, Mister Bristle, but I can tell you're a good pony just from that. And I don't blame him for the hesitation. I'd have just as tough a time thinking of the perfect words in his position. What could anypony really say that would do what we all hope it could? "Hey," I interrupt his introspection, "uh, do you mind if Ah borrow the cart? Just fer tonight? Ah'll bring it back tomorrow." He nods, "Sure, sure, Cup. Butch’a break it, youse bought it. You know? But I s'pect y'll be fine." This old stallion. Can't help but shoot him a smile. "Thanks, Mister Bristle." He makes like he wants to say one thing but changes at the last second. "Eh, fe'get about it. Youse a gud filly, yeah." He retreats back into his office -probably back to nappin'. I kept an ear on the cart the whole time, but I still want to check. I peek under my hat, and the foal is still there. *sigh* Just a few more blocks to go, little one. Huh, the walk home went by way quicker than it has the past few weeks. "Hey, Cup." What? "Oh, hey, Mic. How's the day treating you?" Open Microphone, my neighbor. She has probably seen me coming back home from work more than anypony else the last few weeks. I guess my milkmare schedule lines up with hers better than my old job schedule did. Mic seems somewhat taken aback by my question but starts to smile with her reply. "Pretty good. Looks like you're having a better one, too?" There is touch of hope in her question. I noticed my cheeks as she said that just now: they feel sore. Have I been smiling this whole way back? I don’t think I’ve done that in a while. "Yeah, uh," I don't want to mention the foal in my cart, "Ah’ve a friend coming over soon. Haven't seen her in a while." Her smile completes its journey along her muzzle. "Good for you, Cup. I'm really glad to hear that... Well, uh, don't let me keep you." "See you around, Mic. Go get those bits." "See you, Cup." She moves away, but her ears fold back a few houses down. I guess I reminded her of something stressful at work. Sorry, Mic. Before she’s more than a few steps past me, she adds with a few sniffs, “Is that you?” “Oh," the foal's odor. Right. "Yeah~ I’ll be washing my uniform tonight.” Mic nods as she resumes her trek toward her own employment, “That’s good. You’ll have to tell me how milk is supposed to make that kind of dank funk some- hm~ I might use that in my show tonight: dank funk…” Mic starts talking to herself as she moves beyond conversation distance. *sigh* I guess it's time to wake you up, little one. Thank you for sleeping through all of that. I could have had some difficult questions to answer if you began to stir at any point. *sniff* Eugh, I will definitely wash my hat later. Maybe I should leave it outside to air out. A~nd I am not picking you up traditional styles with my mouth again. Not 'till you've gotten a bath, little one. I can carry you just fine on my back. I don't think my eyes will water nor my nose sting as much if I do it that way. Aw~ that big yawn from your little muzzle. That's good you're waking up on the way in. You should be almost fully awake by the time we get settled inside. “Well, this is it: just a couple of rooms and a hallway squished between a few other arrangements of the same. It's temporary. I suppose I'll set you down in the sitting room, let you wake up, and you can explore the space.” Suppose I can toss my uniform on the couch for now. I'll deal with that later. Don't want to miss this event for you, little one. He has a leafy-green coat that fades to black down along his legs from the fetlocks. That's a good nature-pony color and an uncommon but normally nature-pony variation on the legs. His black tail is straight and not too bushy; that's typical for some pegasi speedsters. He has a top-heavy black mane that goes forward and away which is atypical for most pegasi. Flying around usually pushes it back; he might not be flying yet. Nature-pony can have those types of manes, but unicorns will more often than the rest. Hehe, he yawns so wide and those tiny little hooves wiping the sleep away are so~ cute. I suppose it wouldn't be a terribly big stretch of the imagination that he was mine or that he has some nature-pony lineage given his darker and natural color scheme. I don't think I would need much to get proof-of-birth or parentage from city hall if I claimed a home birth. There are medical records of Applebutter with my name on them. Could be questions about where I got a different foal if I go there. Maybe I'd have to provide a different name? Or maybe I could go over to the Harmony Shrine. *sigh* Look at me. An innocent foal finds his way into my cart -into my life- barely two hours ago, and I'm already plotting ways to make him mine legitimately and only a few weeks after my Appleb- aw~ look at him stretching. He starts taking in the sights of the room; and when his gaze finds me, he freezes -just like he did in the cart. Why do you do that, little one? Why do you freeze? Is it a game you play? Feels like it's been a long time since I've giggled genuinely like that. Hm~ I don't think I can keep referring to you as 'little one' indefinitely, can I? We'll need to solve that soon -especially if I need to get some paperwork done for you. Regardless, you're my guest right now -long or short term- and that means hospitality. On my family name, I'll give you plenty of that. Pretty soon you'll get a bath, but I can start with a smile. You're with me in my small slice of the city, little one. You're safe here. "Hello. Did you sleep well?" He turns slightly and makes some quick adjustments to his mane with his hooves and wings while giving me some sidelong glances. Is this the early stages of preening? I never expected to have a young pegasus, and I have no experience growing up around one of this age. I think I know what I need to get at the library now. Oh! It's good Flo will be here soon -maybe earlier tomorrow morning. She can teach me how to take care of a little pegasus. Thank Celestia for the timing! I couldn’t have planned this better. Of all the times to do this, it is curious: pegasi usually only preen when the feel safe or when they're trying to... wait. Are you trying to impress me, little one -to look good for me? Funny little guy. When he finishes, he gets a serious look in his eyes and looks around again. He stands up straight with some effort on shaky legs. He definitely hasn't been eating properly; it may be difficult to completely gauge his age. He's definitely showing his feathers off -wings raised and all the primaries spread. His wings are big enough for a colt a couple of years old, but his size looks like no more than a month or two. I'll have to get him to a doctor soon, too, but that could invite some tough questions. Maybe if I take him back home? The town hospital should be more accepting than the one in the city since Applebu- -look at him go! He just took off. ...But he doesn't take off flying with his wings or take off running? His wings slap to his sides, and he uses a fast spring-loaded, four-hooved, bounce-run -almost like he's skipping. But that's not skipping. Where on Equus did you learn that? It is rather quick. It's like you saw a Deer here in the city -as unlikely as that may be. Has nopony ever shown you how to trot, cantor, or gallop? *p-da, p-da, p-da* That's... I don't know what to make of that. It is kind of funny, though, watching him 'hop' around the apartment with purpose. Now: do I feed or bathe you first? > 6: First Night Indoors > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Extra A/N: I’ve marked some of the more mature content in this chapter. I’m not sure it fully meets the criteria for ‘NSFW’ given how I portray it, but better safe than sorry in case one wishes to skip it.) "...F'rgive Us of Our transgressions; We lost thy lovingkindness, and the wound bleedeth forth fromst Our essence..." As soon as it looked like she was inviting me to stay by the warmth of her smile, I ran-hopped all over the house to make sure it's a secure location. One front door, a fire escape, and a few windows. I can't tell what story we're on, because I cannot reach up to the window sill -let alone to see over it. Seems safe enough. Thank you, Harmony, for providing me shelter and a source of food -however temporary it may be. At least, I don't think a milkmare would keep me here without feeding me something without some degree of regularity. It's not an exceptionally big apartment -I think- but it's way better than that warm pile I was in the other night. There's a kitchen with a dining room, sitting or living room, toilet washroom combination, and two bedrooms. One of the rooms is sparsely furnished while the other seems to be the milkmare's bedroom. Most of the furnishings throughout seem strangely designed in my opinion: everything is wider than I'd expect -even the architecture- and the furniture is low to the floors. The couch, for example, doesn’t really have a big back to it. It’s mostly a big flat surface only slightly elevated off the ground -not dissimilar from those benches on the boardwalk by the beach. I think I’d have an easier time climbing onto this couch, though. I suppose that makes sense given how us equines are designed; I cannot imagine we would often keep our spines vertical while supporting our body weight the way a biped might when sitting or standing, and some more space is needed to turn or pivot. Is that what I used to be? A biped? Hm~ I haven’t seen any stairs yet. I wonder how steep ponies can descend. I seem to recall that being an issue for equines Before. The milkmare's room has some extra items in it: what functionally looks like a crib and some paraphernalia I'd guess would belong to a young child or infant. But I found no trace of another foal living here or that any of these items have been used, and she does not appear to be in any hurry to go fetch it if it's being babysat -no- foalsat. There are only so many reasons a mare would have all these things without that important centerpiece to the collection. Harmony, what are you doing here with me and this mare? I can't stay anywhere for too long; and if she's experienced loss, then me leaving at any point -even right now- would be… Sounds like a bath is being drawn. She didn't smell bad to me, but she did just get off her shift -I'm guessing. I've no idea how long is the average pony's workday. Maybe I'll get a- wait. Oh! Oh~ no: my horn. She can't find it. I still haven't figured out where or when I am. Harmony, what do I- hey, look at that. Blocks. Foals' toys. Some sides have colors and the others have... what are those? Are those letters or numbers? Is this what the Equestrian language looks like? Oh~ Sh!t. In. Out. Okay, okay. In. Out. This will be tough… but salvageable. This cannot be a total loss. I am a foal after all. I should have somepony or several someponies helping me figure this out -at least in the beginning. Hopefully I'll be able to pick up some of the more nebulous concepts through context after I get a vocabulary base established… without needing some Rosetta Stone to- woah! Ah~ oh, she's got me by the scruff again. That's not fair. You d@mn blocks distracted me! I was supposed to be figuring out your secrets. I'll get you for this, Blocks, and your little dog, too! And I'll figure out your riddles. Mark my wo~rds! She sets me down in the warm water gently. That was nice of her. I guess I get First Bath today: the bath of honor for which the tub is at its cleanest. Her coat has an applesaucey-type of color with what might be an undercoat of light yellow making something of an underglow, but her face has something of a greenish tinge to it right now. That wasn't there before. Huh. After some -what looks like- dry heaves, sputters, and full-body shudders, she goes for some oral hygiene-looking products and tools. One of them is definitely mouthwash given the way she's gargling the liquid... unless she's drinking it? Is she a drunk? I mean... it's possible, I guess. She’s definitely not normal. No normal pony would take -what is essentially- a homeless foal in off the street after that foal stole from her. Right? That makes her a good lady… Right? Maybe she's just not used to carrying foals by their scruff in her mouth. Or a germaphobe? Place didn't look or smell sterilized. I don't think I would ascribe the practice of 'mouth carry' to myself as an instinctual act, but it seems to be her go-to pickup style. Oh, well. Not everyone is a natural with the parenting skills, after all. She'll get better at it if I stick around, I guess. Practice will make us both a little more perfect of a pair, after all. But I don’t think I can fault her for keeping her mouth sanitary. I should put that skill on my to-do list. While the milkmare is distracted with all that, I can wash myself! Yeah. That way she won't end up messing with my head and accidentally discovering my horn and inadvertently causing a cascade of events leading to war. Good job, Brain. You get a gold star for that one. Don’t you dare blame me for any of this. Splashing and rolling is pretty fun! You should try it. Ugh. Just have to get all wet first. Hold your breath. Head under. Soak the mane. Surface and exhale. Don't forget my wings. Might as well roll around and get the full experience. Really! Just let the cleaning wash all over. I'm rather glad that it appears that hydrogen and oxygen combine and seem to behave the same way on this world as it did from Before. I wonder what other similarities there are to discover. Now for you, Tail. Get over here- no. Over here- no. Stop, you. Come on. In. The. Water. Shh, shh, shh~ that's right. Don't fight it. Just let it happen. Embrace the sweet embrace of Bath Time at my hooves, Tail… hyoo~vz… dang, you got heavy. I am really good at this! Master bath-taker right here. That sound. She's standing there watching with a forehoof in front of her mouth. Giggling? Is she giggling at me? I haven't heard that noise come from a pony yet. It's really nice. ... Is it still hidden in my mane? I think so. I'm not sure what that expression she's making means, but she's smiling gently; and the green tinge is gone -replaced with a little bit of pink. I guess that's better than before, so it's fine. She comes up to the tub and seems to inspect the whole area with a different expression that I cannot interpret. She pulls the plug in the drain, and then turns on the shower head. It drizzles gently as the tup starts to empty. She says, "Jraigh ie ay pbubv-edh," while motioning with her eyes and hoof toward the water cascading down from above. Oh, does she want me to rinse? Of course, I can do that, lady. Now seems like a good time for my best Don the Mallard impression. The look on her face right now. That's priceless! Hmm~ I'm going to need a name for you, milkmare. How do pony names work? In the languages I think I remember, names were not usually associated with standard noun or verb conventions. They don't typically convert from one language to another very well at all; so, they're often left as-is when translating. The pony names I know about Equestria from Before were always somewhat strange in my native languages: Flurry Heart, Applejack, Luna, etc. They're usually specific to that pony's talent and rarely unrelated to it. I wonder if it is a phenomenon of Equestrian culture or if there is a linguistic explanation for it. Some cultures I knew of made names by combining letters or characters of their languages in different ways rather than using traditional names within a family, area, or culture. From what I saw on those blocks, there could be something to that by reusing the letters of the parents' names in the offspring somehow. Or maybe Harmony has something to add to the process, because Cutie Marks exist here. Therefore, it could be that Destiny or some variation of 'predestination' has more influential properties in this magical world. Ponies could be named any random thing if Cutie Mark magic did not have some correlation to names. 'Milkmare' could legitimately be her name for all I know. Cutie Marks... that's right: they often reflect something relating to a pony's name. Excluding exceptions, there must be some magics concomitant with a pony's name and their Cutie Mark. Unless that's just a misconception caused by self-fulfilling prophecy? Now I'm more curious about my name. If I gave myself a name from within my thought-language and somepony gives me a different name in pony-language, then which would my Cutie Mark reflect? Is the mark fixed to one or the other regardless of which name? If I refuse a name of any kind, what would my mark be? ...Probably a depiction of obstinance, hehe, like a pony with its head up its own backside, hahaha. *sigh* Harmony, please don't do me like that. The water stops, and she looks amused. She seems to be a rather positive pony. That's nice; though, I guess that could normal for the pony culture -as I assume it. That, or she tells herself jokes on the regular. How would a nebulous concept as humor be depicted as a Cutie Mark? I imagine that could be nearly anything so long as the pony who owns it thinks it's funny. What is -ah, the water dripping- my coat tickles... I can't... Ah~ Shake! Shake it off! You can't tickle me if you're not on me anymore. *sigh* Ah~ that's better. Aren't you proud of me, milkmare? The water dripping in my coat was tickling me something fierce, and I got it off... How'd your face get soaked? There's a towel here on the edge of the tub. Here you go; you can use it. She accepts it. She reaches for another towel with some mumbles that I cannot decipher, and... there are a lot of fruit around here. Some are sewn into the towels, there are some on the mat by the tub, lots of fruit shaped toiletry products -mostly apples and pears but some others as well. Apple and pears? Wait... Could she be related to the one of those clans? I don't think I've ever heard of anypony being so obsessed with either of those fruits and not being a part of one of those enormous families. This... this whole hiding my horn thing could get real complicated really fast. In. Out. In. Out. Okay. Don't panic yet. I don't even know if she's one of them. She could just happen to have lots of fruit-themed products, and her actual name might be more related to being a milkmare… Or maybe she is an Apple or a Pear and just so happens to be a pariah -a cast-out black sheep that nopony talks to or about anymore... I mean, it's not impossible considering she's willing to take a strange street-foal home and not immediately turning me into the authorities. Right? In. Out. ...Or maybe she's really plugged in to either family and my presence here derails the births of Applejack or Babs Seed… or I don’t know, Braeburn, maybe?... well, actually that one might -no! That’s still bad! In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Merciful Harmony, did I already prevent somepony’s birth? Is that like murder? What have I don- oh, how did I get out of the tub? What feels so nice? Are you helping me dry off, lady? You've been so nice to me. I really appreciate it. Ooh~ so that's what cats feel like when you pet their lower backs and their butts go up in the air. D@mn, I can get used to that. Okay you can- nope! Gimme that. Stop. Stop! I will dry my mane. By myself! That's for me. I'm sorry, but you're not allowed. Don't look at me like that. I have good reasons, milkmare. Don't judge me. They're good reasons! *sigh* There. Thank you for the towel and helping with the other stuff, though. I think I can get a pompadour-style when my mane gets longer. Oh, is that a pony toilet? I could use one right about now. Huh… That's an odd shape. How do I aim for something like this with the tools that I have? Maybe if I stood on my forehooves and put my hind legs high up on the wall there? That's not very practical if that's the correct way it's done... I think that potted plant in the corner of the bathroom would facilitate my male-ways better. The room is too close together for my masterful ‘bipedal super-arc technique.’ This'll be a good chance to try that ‘one-leg-raised dog-style.’ I'm the best at this. "Sheh? Chzk-k!" My world starts to spin, but there was no way to stop what I'd started. When I stopped spinning, she held me almost upside down over the porcelain. Huh. I guess I was right about that 'standing on my forehooves' theory. Who'd have guessed that was the right way to do it? Not me, apparently. Master bath-taker. Absolute noob with Equestrian toilets. Well, I'll get it next time. After I finish, she sets me down, and she's dripping again. How do you keep doing that, lady? You must be the company cut-up over at the milk-office. Is that what it would be called: milk-office? I don't imagine it's a barn or factory. Can't even fathom what those holiday parties are like... udderly ridiculous that’s- ow! What was that? Anyway, this towel should still be good. Here you go, lady. I think I'm going to go check out those blocks again. *gurgle* Quiet, Tummy, I want to solve the mysteries of Language now! Once I master communication, then I’ll ask about dinner… or whatever meal time it is. I walk to the room with the block toys at a leisurely pace. Before I arrive, I get picked up again by the scruff. I guess the milkmare has some other activity scheduled. She brings me over to the sitting room, sets me down, and then lays on her side while looking at me with some features that I don't exactly know how to read. Her expressions go from somewhat hopeful, desirous, and then worried. Um~ okay... Are you tired, lady? You have a nice living room here -the nicest sitting room in this world I've ever seen, actually. It's also the only one I've ever seen. Maybe we'll get those learning materials out here later, if this is where we'll be spending most of our house time. *gurgle* Hm~ might need to start addressing this tummy situation. I'd consider foraging, but that's not usually something you do inside someone's -no- somepony's house while you're their guest... I'm going to assume it's rude to pilfer through somepony's rubbish bin for snacks from within their house... while you're there... ...or generally anytime, I guess... She motions with her eyes down towards her... what would that be called? Hind leg knee area? Gaskin? Stifle? How do I know those words? Her expression seems to change slightly. Perhaps her worry is increasing? "Nhrae hyaiy?" With a forehoof, she points to her belly and motions with her eyes as well. Belly? Ponies are herbivores. Right? I don't think she's telling me to get in her belly, so what- wait. Oh! Oh. Oh~ she's pointing at… tho~se. What! Is she asking me to... No~ No, she couldn't be. Could she? The milkmare nods and taps towards her belly again -probably in response to my looking from her face to there over and over. I guess there's only one way to test this out for sure. I scoot towards her a bit and try to gauge her reaction. That look of worry on her face starts to melt away into what I'd guess is... encouragement? But there is a touch of something else mixed in. It looks positive, anyway. So, I get a little closer -almost creeping towards them. Her eyes seem to sparkle as I look to her again, and she nods. "Mreb rheheh," she says and spreads a bit. Wow, this lady is serious right now. *gurgle* Ugh, I am hungry. *sigh* Okay, but if I'm interpreting all of this wrong, then I do not want to get slapped for this. Got that? Feels like my teeth are chattering. That’s weird, right? Geeze. Why am I so nervous right now? This is Survival for Infants 101. Basics. I just- just need to treat this with some professionalism. That’s all. Nothing more than that. She gently nudges me with her nose closer to the area. *sigh* Her breath is calming, and my teeth quiet. Okay. Guess I can’t really avoid this. Nothing left to it but to do it. **Incoming scene with some materials one may classify as: NSFW.** Never did I ever think I’d consider a bottle to be more masculine than I do right now. Okay. I just have to focus on anything else. I can probably -hm- tastes almost like the stuff from the bottle I 'requisitioned' previously. Body temperature somehow changes it slightly from the cart products. I think I like that juice better, but I can’t deny this agrees. Maybe that's my equine taste buds or maybe foals interpret flavors differently than adults? I wonder if this mare helped produce the stuff I stole earlier. I guess that could make sense. I think there were two types in the cart back then, but I wasn’t paying particular attention to labels at the time. The mare lets out what I would call a sigh of contentment and lays all the way down on her side. She angled her head a bit to have an eye on me. Probably to make sure I follow the rules for this; although, I don’t know what those might be. I like the smile she has. It’s content -even her tail is slowly wagging -oh- I think mine is, too. Neat. So far, Tail has been a pretty solid judge of things. I seem to remember from the world I came from that bovines required milking maybe twice a day and would become agitated when it was time -or past time. I wonder if this lady was getting uncomfortable. I hope she wasn't in any pain. I probably destroyed her schedule for today, too. I don't really know how to apologize for that without knowing her language better. I should still try to thank her for everything she's done for me today -starting with this belly bounty. Not sure if both spigots are hooked up to a shared source. Might as well switch just in case. Wouldn’t be polite if I inadvertently cause her to start leaning over to one side. Do these equines release a bonding hormone during this process? Or maybe that is only at a specific time post-birthing? How long has she been bagged up? I suppose this is probably good for my immune system, too... She seems to have relaxed quite a bit. That's a nice bonus. The milkmare seems like she was getting wound up back there in the bathroom. My amazing new pony bathroom skills must have been a glorious sight to behold. Perhaps they'll write textbooks on my mastery for future generations! Getting tired all of a sudden. What's up with that? I think these are about empty -not like there's a gauge to read. Even if there was, I doubt I could read it. Is there something I'm supposed to do to signal when I'm finished? I'm pretty sure it was considered in poor taste -at the very least- to stare at such activities where I came from; so, I really don't know if there are any concluding rituals to perform here that would cue my finale. Not sure if ponies derive much pleasure from this area. Regardless, I do not think she'd appreciate any attempt of gratitude of that nature from me given how young I'm supposed to be. Taps with a hoof could be unpleasant. Not sure I’m even capable of that behavior at this age, but the last thing I need is to develop a reputation as a randy baby. So, an appreciative massage or a reach-around is off the table. There aren't any napkins around for me to extend the courtesy of cleaning up after myself at this time. Milk-breath kisses seem like a less-than-ideal gesture, but I really do want to express my appreciation for her willingness to be so nice to me by helping me survive another day. I don’t think her offer is the standard gesture one does for just any pony off the street, after all. So, I ought to do something. There must be some sort of etiquette to express how thankful I am to conclude this feast, but what can- oh! I got it. "B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b." **End of NSFW Scene.** Yeah, that did it. She raised her head quickly and looks like she's thinking about something intensely -probably contemplating my gratitude- with pursed lips, a contemplatively furrowed brow, and a few glances my way; but her face also has some more of that pink-rosy coloring to it. Is that blush? Blushing must mean she's super stoked -thrilled by my gratitude. How do ponies blush with fur anyway? *yawn* Aw, cursed milk drunk... sleepy times... baby body... ...I shall take a part of you, and you will wander until the appointed time as folly-fallen...