• Published 11th Mar 2012
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My Little Wesker - Iamdanny0



After Wesker is defeated, he finds himself in a strange land. A strange land known as Equestria.

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Albert Wesker and Meeting the Farm Pony

Albert Wesker and meeting the farm pony

Wesker knocked twice on the oak front door before taking a step back and awaiting whoever, or whatever, opened the door. Joy chose this moment to make another vacuous point while he waited:

Haha, hey Al, when was the last time you knocked on a door and wanted a horse to answer it?

Critical then decided to chip in whilst the corners of Wesker's mouth twitched at the previous thought:

Of course, Albert would rather have all the laws of nature turned on their heads than have to be a second class citizen.

The suggestion of a hint of a smirk disappeared rapidly as he mulled over that idea, he supposed it was true, being a horse in a world of humans would be infuriating; god knows how long it'd be before he trampled some pathetic human's head because they tried to ride him and got turned into glue.

That'd be a sticky situation, eh Al? Sticky, get it? Like glue?

Wesker sighed, he never had to deal with this relentlessly cheery voice during the Uroboros project, even as his personality began to degenerate and fragment. He assumed it was because he had a project and an ultimate goal in mind, now he was fixed irrevocably in the present and had nothing to distract himself anymore. A mind as active and powerful as his was inevitably going to find something to occupy his time.

Hey, I'm better than Critical, right Al?

Wesker was inclined to agree, though it wouldn't be difficult to top the annoyingly acidic and uncannily incisive voice that had taken root in his mind long ago. Well, it was his mind, which infuriated him even more. At least he hadn't taken to talking back to the voices; that would be the beginning of the end.

"Can ah help y'all?" The speaker was an orange pony, with a very blonde mane and tail, both fixed into ponytails, a fact which sent Joy off into a vast array of teeth grindingly awful puns. Additionally, she was wearing a fairly worn Stetson and an expression which rather indicated that she had been asleep earlier and would ideally like to return to that state of affairs. Wesker was torn between relief that he wouldn't have to worry about developing an inferiority complex so soon after developing a god complex and bafflement that he had died and somehow ended up in a world with talking ponies, which would have been confusing enough without being a pony himself.

"Yes. I am Albert Wesker and I have just regained consciousness on a field somewhere in that direction." He indicated vaguely with a hoof, "Since I do not know anyone in the vicinity, I ventured towards the nearest residence I could find, this one to be precise. Would it be possible for me to rest here for the night, Miss...?"

"Applejack. Boy howdy, Al, you sure do sound like the bookish type, bet you and Twi'd get along mighty fine. Ah wouldn't be much of a pony if I left y'all shiverin' out here in the cold, Applebloom's havin' a sleepover with her lil friends so we've even got a free bed for y'all." She gave him a slightly tired smile before stepping inside to allow him entry.

Wesker grimaced slightly at the abridged use of his first name, nodded at the Cowboy hat wearing pony and followed her into her home. He didn't particularly care if he'd woken her up but felt inclined to say something for common courtesy's sake.

That's you, Albert, master of courtesy, you always said please and thank you before you tore out someone's spine.

Doggedly ignoring the biting sarcasm of Critical, Wesker ventured a slight apology whilst simultaneously wondering at the fact she had just allowed a complete stranger to enter her home, wherever he was, they clearly didn't have much crime to fear. That or he looked innocent enough as a pony to inspire trust, a vaguely unnerving thought.

"I apologise if I woke you. Miss Applejack."

The orange pony offered a slightly more genuine smile than before, probably misjudging Wesker's forced politeness as indicative of a good nature. "Don't y'all worry none; I was already up, 'bout to get myself a midnight snack. Care to join me, Al?"

He arched an eyebrow, it'd been a long time since he'd had any sort of food around midnight and had the mindset to refer to it as a 'midnight snack', it just evoked the idea of comic books and mischief in a public school kind of manner.

Let's go raid the larder and get ourselves a midnight snack before Cook realises we're there!

He decided that the slight gnawing hunger he felt outweighed his trepidation at behaving like a child and he trotted after her, noticing the bushel of apples imprinted on her side. Perhaps the ponies here were named after their birthmarks; it would make sense... so far as any of this situation made sense to him. Unfortunately, Applejack chose this moment to look back at Wesker and caught him staring unashamedly at her rear.

"Erm... Is there something I can help y'all with back there?" She tried her very best to make her tone light and teasing but Wesker could sense just a hint of annoyance lurking behind her words.

Wesker wasn't an idiot; he knew what she must have assumed and therefore went straight to the point. "Indeed, what exactly is that mark on your side, Miss Applejack?"

The farm-working pony looked at him as though he were simple before replying, "Why, that's my cutie mark, Al, I'd have thought you'd a known that, considerin' you got one of your very own."

Wesker dared to glance down to his side, he still wasn't any the wiser as to what a 'cutie mark' was but to hear it used in association with him filled him with a tangible feeling of dread. It was...

A pair of sunglasses? How appropriate, even when you're another species, you've still got the mark of your inability to face who you really are.

Don't listen to Critical, Al, I think it looks pretty damn cool. Bet no other pony's going to have a cutie mark like that... Well, I assume... Find out what a cutie mark is, Al!

"May I inquire as to what a cutie mark is?" Wesker tried to ensure his voice gave away nothing but honest curiosity but in truth, not knowing things made him anxious and irritable and he wanted to know what a cutie mark was. Now.

Applejack looked briefly incredulous before composing herself and starting to explain. "Well shoot, Al, never seen a pony with a cutie mark not know what one was. Put simply, a cutie mark appears when a pony finds out what makes him or her special. So what, you some sort of sunglasses designer?"

Had Wesker's sense of humour been better exercised, he would probably have needed to resist the urge to laugh outright, as it was, he instead settled for a knowing smirk. "Something like that, Miss Applejack."

"Please Al, just Applejack if ya don't mind, you're wastin' a word every time you say Miss."

Wesker's lips twitched, "Some of us enjoy the liberty of wasting our words, especially since everything else we waste seems to be so expensive."

Very philosophical Albert, aren't you the man of mystery?

Applejack's brow knotted as she tried to decipher what Wesker had just said before she gave it up with a faint smile. "Don't you try and confuse me with your fancy talk, Al, just call me Applejack and have a snack with me."

The twitch of Wesker's lips evolved into a slight smirk. "I believe I can manage that... Applejack."

They ate a couple of apples in comfortable silence before Applejack volunteered to show Wesker to his room for the night, it was fairly small and dotted with trinkets and pictures which left Wesker in no doubt that its owner was a child, but it was still a vast improvement over a field.

Wesker inclined his head towards Applejack, "Thank you for your hospitality, and the food."

Applejack returned the gesture and replied, "It was no problem, y'hear? Besides, if y'all just got here then I'm thinkin' you'll be fixin' for a job. Apple Acres is always lookin' for workers."

Wesker raised an eyebrow, invest food and a bed once and you may just have a loyal employee for a while. Clever girl. "I'll keep that in mind, Applejack."

Applejack nodded once and departed with a simple "Night Al."

Wesker looked around the young filly's room and wondered once more at the absurdity of his situation, he assumed that once he awoke from his slumber this time, he'd probably be half dead in a ditch, covered in residual Uroboros. Though he had to wonder at the manner in which his brain decided to recreate purgatory, he'd never been especially fond of horses, which made everything even more baffling. Perhaps the feeling that none of this was real was what was keeping him here, maybe he'd regain consciousness once he'd fully accepted this as reality. He raised a hoof in front of his eyes, before raising his gaze skyward.

Highly unlikely.

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