I had been conflicted with my mind, I've been in Golden Corral for the last hour, and the drums are starting to get annoying, not to mention every time I finished off my Fanta they’d give me an instant refill, which didn't help my bladder in the least. And after about my tenth glass, I needed to separate myself from all my adoring fans as it were.
“Hey, sorry everyone,” I said after giving a hug to the latest kid to ask for one, “I have to go for a bit; private matters.”
There was a collective sound of disappointment as I started heading to the washroom. I was thankful that the doors there were push doors, much easier to get into. When I got inside, I was instantly assaulted by the smell of overused bathroom cleaners and hand soap.
“Bleh,” I involuntarily sounded, covering my muzzle, “well, I guess that’s a downside to being able to taste the air...”.
I quickly entered a stall and relieved myself, another person entering the room as I did. After having been going for a bit, I noticed something while I went; no sound from the other person.
‘Good observation,’ the Master told me, ‘let’s see what we can make of it.’.
‘Well,’ I began mentally, ‘being that we recently saw a group that’s stare would collectively rival a cockatrice, I’d say we try to keep our head down’.
“Hey,” the man said in a deep southern accent, “hurry up in there”.
“Sorry, rather large equipment,” I joked, just about finished. I took a breath, flushing and exiting the stall to look directly at a man wearing a hat with ‘PAPA’ stitched into it. He stared daggers at me, as I make my way to the door. But as I pushed against the door, it wouldn't budge.
“I’ve got something to give you,” the man said, walking up behind me, the sound of metal clinging completely evident, “courtesy of Mr.Silence.”
I took the time to turn around, seeing him with a butterfly knife in his left hand.
“And, before you do,” I said, the man standing there, all intent to use the weapon, “who is this ‘Mr.Silence’?”
“No one you’ll ever meet.” he said, lunging at me. I quickly leapt to the right , but only just so, he managed to cut me on my left ear and cheek, the taste of copper already filling my over-sensitive taste buds.
“Bloody hell,” I said, clutching my ear before I couldn't feel anything, my body moving of it’s own volition.
The man was slightly off balance, and my left hind leg shot out, slamming into his ribs. I watched as he fell to the side, knife flying out of his grasp.
“That wasn't a very smart thing to do,” I said, voice full of malice, not in control of my own actions, kicking him again, a pained grunt sounding as he staggered away and to his feet, clutching his rib cage. I had taken out the laser screwdriver, creating a frequency that started to make his ears bleed. He let go of his chest and held his ears, I instantly turned around and bucked him in the legs, the sickening sound of bone cracking hit my ears. He promptly fell forward on his face, before I was suddenly back in control of my body again. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, and looked at the man on the ground, blood on the floor.
“What did you do!?” I shouted at the Master, not even noticing I had screamed it.
‘I took control,’ he said, as if it were natural, ‘he was attempting to murder you and I had to stop him.’
“And you murdered him!” I retorted.
‘No, he’s not dead, knocked out, I gave him a fractured rib cage, ruptured eardrums and a dislocated femur, and possibly a broken nose from the amount of blood on his face.’
“Still, you could’ve tried to reason with him.” I said, touching my nicked ear, pulling away as I breathed in sharply through my teeth, a spot of blood on my hoof visible as I brought it to my face. I left it alone as I stood on my hind legs, unlocking the door. Walking out, I noticed several pairs of eyes on me, not threatening, but worried, most likely from seeing the blood on my face.
“Mommy, why’s he bleeding?” I heard a little girl say.
Needless to say, I felt like I was about to start running away from them, not wanting to be seen as a menace by the very people, who, only minutes ago were eager to see me. I trotted over to the manager at the front desk, he looked about ready to run as I came up to him.
“Sir, there is a man in the restroom on the floor, unconscious,” I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible, “he attempted to kill me, and so I defended myself. I suggest you remove him from the premise as soon as possible.”
“R-right,” he said, heading to the restroom.
“And may I trouble anyone for a sanitation towel, hydrogen peroxide, perhaps?” I asked the crowd, to which a young woman in a trench coat pulled out a brown bottle and a rag from her bag, handing it to me.
“Here,” she said, her voice sounding almost as if she was talking to a dead man, “I’m sorry for what happened...”
“Don’t be,” I said, Tyler taking the bottle and applying some of it’s contents to the cloth, “it was the fault of no one but the man in that room and myself.”
Tyler began to dab the rag on my face, the chemical burning my face slightly as he cleaned it, though I made no sign to show it, a stoic expression on my face.
The manager came out moments later, the attacker’s face covered in a towel as he was taken to a room in the back, everyone watching as he went. When he was gone, everyone looked back at me, a mixture of emotions on their faces; some looked relieved, others seemed scared, but of everyone, it was a child I noticed the most, a little girl with tears in her eyes, holding her mother’s hand.
I decided to show myself out, not wanting to have to see a child cry. The rain had let up for the most part, and I heard a muttering from the roof. I looked towards the sound and saw a blonde maned mare in a green trench coat , rocking back and forth in a fetal position.
“Excuse me,” I said up to her, “who are you?”, the only response was more muttering, but I could only make out a little.
“Two by two, hands of blue.” she said under her breath.
“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” I found a ladder on the side of the building and hazarded a climb. She immediately stopped muttering and looked up at me.
“Sorry about that, just making a reference.”
“You look scared, are you alright?”
“Mostly. I thought Discord brought in my least favorite element of Firefly.”
“Firefly...” I said, running my hoof under my chin, the rain matting my mane to my coat, “oh, the television show, I remember that, but the idea escapes me, what exactly are you afraid of?”
“The noise that makes you bleed.” She waited a second. “I thought I heard it.”
“Oh...” I say, wide eyes, “that...”
“Is everyone okay!?”
“For the most part, yes,” I say, pointing to the left side of my face, “only myself and my attacker were harmed.”
“Lemme guess. Your attacker had blue gloves on.”
“Actually...” I pause for a moment, “the sound was from me, the man had a butterfly knife, and those things are bloody sharp.”
“Would you happen to be The Master?”
“Yes, but please, just call me Shane.” I insisted, “And that would make you either Derpy or Ditzy, correct?”
“Yes. I’m Ditzy, with Chris riding in the back.” She paused. “Hey! I am not riding in the back!”
“Oh, well that’s interesting...” I said as I looked at the pegasus. “You have conflicting control?”
“We generally agree. Definitely conflict some of the time, though.”
“Huh, well, would you like to go inside, It’s pretty cold out here.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She was silent for a second. “Well, cold resistance and coats help mask that...”
“Lucky you, all I got is this bowtie that’s bigger on the inside.” I say, pointing to said bowtie.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit still while they measure your wings? It was hard enough to do so without the fact that they’re highly personal.”
“Well, I don’t know about the wing part, but getting my suit made for the elect-” I immediately hit my head with a wet hoof at the memory, one I shouldn’t have.
“Did you have a compulsion to fly around?”
“Well, I’ve always wanted to, but that’s about it.”
“I’m talking a literal compulsion.” She jumped off the side of the building.
I should’ve been worried about that, and I was, before I remembered, she’s a Pegasus. I looked over the side down at her before following down the ladder. “So, you need to fly?”
“It feels like it sometimes.”
“Well I suggest you come inside, at least get something to eat, you must be famished.”
“Food does sound good. I haven’t had any real food since Myra’s.”
“Myra’s?” I asked, “I don’t believe I’m familiar with that establishment.”
“It’s a tiny little restaurant right beside the main campus of the University of Cincinnati. It’s got great food.”
“Well that’s a bit away, why don’t I treat you to an early dinner, since you flew all the way here?” I said, holding open the door. “Oh, and before I forget, there might be fans waiting for us, well me more so.”
“Can’t be The Master without a fanclub...” She grumbled.
“Please don’t,” I said solemnly, “I very well may have made children cry from the scuffle I was in, I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I certainly don’t want them to worry.”
“What exactly happened in there?”
“Someone from a group with a uniform of PAPA on their clothes, said something about a ‘Mr.Silence’ before he lunged at me with a knife and I nearly killed him.”
“PAPA? Can’t say I've heard of them...” She said, entering the restaurant
“Most likely an abbreviation,” I said, keeping my voice down as we went back to the counter, many of the people having left and another manager awaiting us.
“Welcome back, sir,” he said, much friendlier than I expected, “and who is your friend?”
“I’m Chris, inside of Ditzy.” She paused. “Hey, I’m in me too!”
“I see...” the manager replied, “and would you care for a table?”
“Sure, I could really go for some food.”
“Right,” he said, tapping numbers into the register, “that’ll be $23.99 for the group.”
I pulled out my wallet from my collar, waiting to see what Ditzy’s reaction would be. She searched in her coat pockets, finding some money.
“I told you, I’ll pay,” I said, pulling out a twenty and a ten, handing(hoofing?) it over to the manager.
“Oh, okay. I must’ve lost it in the gap.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as we went to get a table, Tyler finally deciding to join up with me.
“When’d you meet Derpy?” he whispered to me.
“She’s Ditzy, not Derpy,” I replied, “and she was on the roof, apparently.”
“Really?” he continued, a little louder, enough for her to hear, “what, like her sister or something?”
“Yep, twins.” she answered.
“Huh...” was all he said before going off to get his own plate of food.
“So... What’s up with him?”
“He’s not a fan of the show, he just knows some stuff because he’s around me a lot.” I said, grabbing a plate and getting a slice of pepperoni pizza.
“Wait, are you sure you can...Oh, what am I saying, of course you can eat meat...”
“Oh, I’m sorry, is that offensive?” I ask, about to put it back.
“No, it isn’t. I rather liked meats before,” She gestured to herself. “This happened." There was a near invisible twitch in her movement, so small even the Master almost missed it, before she spoke up again. "Wait, you liked eating THAT?”
“My apologies,” I said, putting back the piece and getting cheese and veggie instead. “Being biologically different makes it a bit difficult to fit in, even among ponies.”
“You don’t have to change what you’re eating for one half of me...”
“No, I don’t want you to feel awkward, just forget about it.”
“Okay then...” She said, getting her own pizza.
A bit later and we were at our table, Tyler got a plate of popcorn shrimp and chicken breast, I had the pizza a buttered bread rolls and Ditzy had pineapple pizza and a small pile of various melon, including cantaloupe, honeydew, and watermelon.
“So,” Tyler began, looking between the two of us, “are you traveling with us?”
“I guess I am.” She shrugged. “It beats flying alone.”
“And that’s the one thing I’m jealous about,” Tyler went on, “some of you can fly now, others can do magic, hell, he’s a freaking Time Lord.” he ended, pointing at me.
“And we have to relearn walking, not to mention learning to fly and do magic. Besides, many of us are genderbent as ponies.”
“Really?” he asked, “I didn’t know that, who are you talking about?”
“Me, for example. Do you know any girls who call themselves ‘Chris’?”
“I know a girl named Christine, she goes by Chris.” he replied.
“Any others?”
“No,” he replied, eating a piece of shrimp, “not like I try and find them though.”
“Don’t be jealous, except for him. He’s a Time Lord.”
The Master decided to speak for a moment, “Being a Time Lord’s not all it’s cracked up to be though, imagine being as old as an entire species and having to watch it die...”
“Yikes, I hadn’t thought of that...”
I was instantly back in control, ‘What the hell, Master, why’d you go and say that?’ I asked mentally. ‘I don’t want them to think being a thousand years old is a good thing.’ . I had to think of something to counter the Master’s comment. “Being a Time Lord is both a curse and a blessing, I guess, every ride has it’s ups and downs, my ride’s just a bit longer.”
“The blessing is that you’re overpowered?”
“The blessing is that I get to see civilizations prosper, and help in whatever way I can.” I say to Ditzy, ignoring that little comment.
“That’s quite the blessing.”
“Yeah, I guess it is...”
**** **** **** ****
A half hour later and the rest of the meal was eaten, and we were on the road again, me at the wheel Tyler in the passenger seat and Ditzy sleeping in the back seat.
“So, that whole ‘being a Time Lord’ thing...” Tyler began, “what was that about?”
“Just... evaluating the facts,” I lied, keeping my focus on the road, the cut on my face and ear dried.
“Well, I’ll be sure not to let you have to go through it alone,” he said, “for as long as I can.”
“...Thanks, Tyler,” I said as I felt another one of the Master’s memories enter my mind, another person making the same promise, a single tear falling unnoticed down my soon to be scarred cheek.