Diaries of a Madman - Lessov Adict Edit

by Quillo Manar

Day 3 - Sorting

Dream 428 - I was being chased by som russian spy, experiment or somethng. Christ she was determind. I had to run jump and climb my way around my house to shake her, but no mater where I hid to catch my breth she was always only a few minutes behind. The last thing I remember is her scream of rage when I finally bested her, and I woke up.

Day 3 in Equestria - Sorting

This morning I woke up bright and early, just like always, except it seemed easier for me to do, the process of actually waking up seemed a lot appealing here. Despite that epic dream I had, I slept like a restful baby. It could be because of the bed, or the way the sun warms my face, or the quality of sleep I get without the light of my phone keeping my brain hyper for longer. ¿Quién sabe?

It felt like heaven not to have to jut out of bed for school or to do my farm chores before the morning’s out. It was really nice. The giddiness of being free filled my mind once more as I departed the sleeping world and my bed. This feeling slightly wavered as I heard a knock at the door.

Twilight warned me that if ‘any pony’ she didn’t trust came over to the library I was to hide myself in the laboratory. So I sighed and made my way to that cursed room. I looked at the main room of the library and noticed that the floor turned into books over night. Twilight was up all night studying something or other, these are the remnants. Oh well, to the lab!

Before I managed to make it to the laboratory, however, I was stopped in my tracks when Marshmallow-flavoured calls came forth from the front door.

“Twilight dear, open up. I’ll have you know that I have a tight schedule that calls for my complete attention.”

I quickly waded my way through the sea of books to the door and opened it. The Marshmallow in question had her eyes closed in some form of haughty display of her displeasure.

“Well, it’s about time,” she then opened her eyes and learned of my presence, “Oh! It’s you Fericious, where’s Twilight, or Spike for that matter?” It was the way her voice hitched when she saw me, or the way she desired anyone but me to open the door, I don’t know. I just found the arrogance of that pony testing on my nerves at times.

I did, however, keep my voice level and cheery, “Oh, they are still asleep, Twilight stayed up all night doing lord knows what, and Spike had to help her,” I gestured to the books around the place, “this is the evidence of that.”

She hummed before agreeing with me, “Well, Twilight suggested I come over today in order for me to fashion you something to wear. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be forced to wear the same…” she appraised my sleepwear with a critical eye for a second, before she finally harshly regarded them, “cloth for three days straight without any substitutes to change into. I know for a fact that I couldn’t stand it.”

“Huh, well that’s neat,” I simply replied, “Yeah, wearing pyjamas all day might seem like a fantastic thing to do, but wearing it all day, everyday, is not really a favourable activity. What do you have in mind?” That was the exact opposite thing that I wanted to ask because I wasn’t prepared for her whole tirade into fashion and the ‘ideas’ she had in mind for me. I don’t think this pony really understands what it means to design a ‘something something’ for a male, she suggested some kind of jewel to “accent my eyes” or something in every single suggestion. Thankfully, and I grace whoever is watching over me, Twilight came down to interrupt the tirade of Marshmallowy ideas.

“I don’t think he’s looking for something extravagant Rarity.” That’s what I’ve been trying to say this entire meeting, but the enthusiastic marshmallow pony just wouldn’t listen.

“Thank you Twilight,” I said, grateful at her incursion, “I was afraid that I’d be so runned into the ground with her ‘dress’ ideas that I wouldn’t have been able to tell her that I wouldn’t wear a dress at all.”

Rarity huffed at my explanation, “Are you sure, darling? A dress would work perfectly with those legs of yours,” yeah, she was really getting on my nerves now.

“Yeah, that would work, if I was a girl. I’d just simply go for some pants and a shirt, plain and simple, something that I could wear everyday and not be blinded by diamonds and sequins.”

“But diamonds and sequins improve everything, darling!” What does she have against simple designs? I’d figure a seamstress of her ‘caliber’ would be used to fabricating the mundane for the mind of the mundane. I silenced her protests with a look that could curdle milk. She tisk’d but relented, “Fine, I suppose I should get back onto the task that I have been requested for. Twilight doesn’t want you exposed to the masses yet, so I am required to bring my measuring utensils here, if you would be so kind,” she left her request open and gestured to the centre of the room, my first thought was that she wanted me to read a story for her. Then I realised that that would be stupid, so instead of embarrassing myself and grabbing a book, I stood in an empty place and spread my arms out. She quickly and very efficiently measured all of the dimensions of my body.

I silently remarked at how efficient she went about this as I gazed at the blue shimmering notepad and quill that wrote down various measurements. She was rattling on about designing something for me, but I was too entranced in the floaty bluey measurey notepaddy quilly writy thingy to notice, “… I do hope you’d accept my request, I have to say, I am quite enamoured with the idea of designing an ensemble for the newest discovered species!” She scrunched her face in glee as the pen jotted down the last of my dimensions.

“Yeah, you see, about that,” I expertly cut through her joviality, having no idea what the ‘request’ was, but getting enough information to respond from the tail end of her sentence, “I have no way to pay you. It’s hardly fair if I just got these clothes from you without any sort of payment.”

“Oh, you should not concern yourself with that, Fericious!” She quickly interjected, “I shan’t ask payment of someone who is in a tight spot, I just feel that this would help you adjust to your new world. Getting into the local fashion would surly help you in that regard!” Now that she mentions it, that is a fairly decent point. Still, it’s not my alley.

I blinked, “I guess, just don’t make it too ‘high class’. KISS it, and all that. I don’t know if you have denim or any kind of leather, but just something that I can use to cover my legs, hips and chest would be fine, arms are optional.”

“I beg your pardon? For what ever reason would you want me to kiss it for?” She mustn’t be familiar with that phrase.

“No, no, KISS is an abbreviation. It stands for Keep It Simple Stu-…” I don’t think she’d openly accept to me insulting her, so I coughed and tried to recover, “Keep It Simple Sally. Sally is just a general name where I’m from.” King save, she didn’t suspect a thing.

“Keeping it simple? Please, darling, that is what a common tailor is for. I am a famous and well-renowned seamstress, who is known for bringing life to the extraordinary! You can’t possibly ask me to degrade myself to make a simple piece of clothing for the only member of a new species no one has ever seen before! The mystery and intrigue is just far too much to pass up!” She lowered her head and looked up at me, her eyes dilated and her lip quivered. She sounded heartbroken, “You wouldn’t deny a mare the opportunity of a life time, would you?”

I looked at her for a while. She probably expected that this pouty face of hers should have made me melt into her demanding cup, but it just came across to me as the cutest thing I’ve seen since Skittles and Banana. Despite my feeble attempt at maintaining a sophisticated charade, I bursted out laughing. I couldn’t help myself, it was the voice that set me off. She looked astounded at my reaction. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t have as many conniptions about fashion as you do. I don’t really care about what others think of me at all. As I said, if you must make me something, then keep it simple. Please.” I felt like I was tripping around land mines with this person, as it looked as though the Marshmallow was about to erupt and destroy everything about me.

Fortunately, the Grape stepped in and calmed Marshy’s nerves, “Rarity, I don’t think…” too right there Grape Pony ZING! “…that he really means it like that, maybe he means that he doesn’t want to cause a big stir with his appearance, I mean, you know how you reacted to him when you first saw him… how do you think everypony else would if they saw him wearing pony styled clothes designed to state a certain scene?”

The Marshmallow pony still looked ready to erupt with her fountains of argument, but she soon relented, “Fine… I suppose you are correct Twilight, I just cannot fathom why you would not dive for such an opportunity as this Fericious!”

“Hey, trash and treasure love,” Rarity whirled on me with such force that I was sure that her neck would snap right off. It occurred to me that these ponies mightn’t have the same idioms as humans, no, really. Oh dear, I can predict that the majority of my future will be spent explaining myself to various offended parties, “It’s a saying,” I yelled in defence as I backed up slowly, fearful of my continued existence, “the full saying goes, ‘one man’s trash is another man’s treasure’.” She didn’t look any calmer from the explanation, she probably assumed that I was insulting her craft. Thankfully, I didn’t see her horn light up.

“Why you! How dare you say such things!” She stepped closer towards me, and I was sure that at that very moment she was prepared to rip me limb from fabulous limb.

I stepped back and raised my hands in a defensive position, the chair behind me began to look very appealing as a knock-her-out-then-run-for-your-life defensive weapon, “It just means that people have different tastes from other people!” I didn’t expect that my mannerisms would receive this level of negative feedback, such is the mind of ponies right?

She stopped her advance and just stared at me, it was a tense few seconds before she scoffed, turned, and stormed out of the library, slamming the door behind her. I didn’t hear any unpleasantries soaking through the door after she left, none at all.

“That…” I said apprehensively, “did not go so well.”

“Nopony likes having their special talent insulted, I’d likely respond in kind if you talked rubbish about my magic,” she shook her little grape head, “that’s Rarity though, her life is fashion and she very often gets what she asks for. She doesn’t like her paradigms flipped so harshly like that. You should be happy that she simply left and I didn’t have to step in to keep your lungs receiving a sufficient amount of oxygen,” she told me. I gulped, I quickly meditated on the advice to never piss of a woman, especially if she has arcane abilities at her disposal.

Pushing the event into the past I shrugged. Twilight looked at me strangely. Right, them humans and their mannerisms, “that’s a shrug, a universally apt signal to put things in the past.”

She had an incredulous look in her eye as she looked me up and down, “Right,” she shook her head again before calling out for the little awesome dude. Begrudgingly, the little dude made his tired way down the stairs to the main room. The grape pony, unfazed by the awesome dude’s demeanour, opened up the day’s agenda, thankfully ‘Force Fericious to piss off Zeus again’ wasn’t part of the plan. In fact, today Twilight had planned a meeting with the town mayor, the list item just said ‘Meet with Mayor Mare’. I originally hoped to god that that wasn’t her real name, but sadly, my hopes and aspirations were dashed as I asked Grapey and found out that it actually was her real name.

Friggin’ ponies.

After a short bit of discussion, the grape-flavoured pony opted to send herself out to speak with the Mayor and goad a meeting out of her, leaving the little awesome dude and I to clean up this mess of a library. I complained about that but Twilight just shirked it off saying that Spike and I are the only ones with ‘grabbing appendages’ so it should be easier for us. I then remarked on her magic, but she shot it down with a lot of complicated words and strange reasons, like a proper nerd does. Spike on the other hand didn’t speak a word on it, and just went to work, like a little awesome dude.

I won’t say much about the cleaning, mostly due to it being as boring as all get out. There was, however, a short discussion between Spike and I that I should probably write down.

Shortly after Grapey left and I managed to stack a pile of books on my arms, I was about to make my way to the shelf before I realised something, “Hey Spike, where do these books go? Is there a categorical system here or something?”

He slid a book he was holding into a seemingly random bookshelf. “No, not really, Twilight has this nasty habit of changing the sorting order every so often, I think this week she has it on authors by chronological occupation.”

“Alright,” I said as I hefted the books in my arms, “what does that mean?”

“It means that she orders the authors of the books by the jobs they had, and she sorts them out by when they got hired for it.” He said, disinterested, as he picked up another book and put it away.

“Alright,” I said again as I dropped the books, causing Spike to jump, “that’s utter bollocks, how would any one else find a book in this place? Don’t you ponies have a Dewey Decimal system or something like that here?”

“Dewey Decimal?” Well, that answers that question.

“It’s a system that sorts book by field, subject, topic, author and date,” I think that’s the general schtick, “all in a handy-dandy method using numbers.”

“That actually sounds pretty neat.” He gets hyped over sorting things? Oh dear, I think I smell some Grape-like OCD washing off on him.

As we sorted all the books in Twilight’s ‘method’ I explained the basic concept of the Dewey Decimal system, it was a long twenty minutes work before we had finally finished cleaning. Spike went upstairs to write down what I explained so he can shove it in Twilight’s face when she gets back. After Spike came back down stairs with some questions about the sorting methods, which I supplied answers to, I decided that I wanted to learn more about the so called rulers of the land, just so that I could learn more about this world.

As it turns out, Celestia and Luna have the entire populous believing that they control the sun and moon, as in they are the reason the sun raises and lowers at the ends of the days, and Luna controls what stage the moon is in every night and manages where the stars go. It took a fair chunk of my self control, which is fairly vast to be modest, not to burst out laughing. There is no way that the sun orbits around the world, and there is no possible way that Luna could control the position of stars millions of lightyears away. It’s all just a bunch of dingo’s kidneys if you ask me. Though, I didn’t speak out in it, because if I know crazy ‘believing’ cultures like these, then I know that if I did mention the actual truth I’d find myself tied to a steak and burned alive; which is something that I’d like to avoid at all costs.

However, come to think of it, I am in a world where talking purple unicorns can boss around little purple dragons and do magic, so why am I complaining about this little flaw in physics? For all I know, Celestia and Luna actually do control the celestial bodies’ rotations. Of course, my belief is so far to ingrained in my mind for me to believe otherwise, but it wasn’t my place to say anything.

Oh wait, I get it now, Celestial body, Celestia, and ‘lunar’ is latin for moon. Har har.

With nothing else to pique our interests in, and the library being mostly tidy (with the book organised in the grape’s crazy sorting system), Spike asked about the libraries in our world. “Yeah, we have libraries where I’m from, the city I was closest to had about four, located in public areas and in universities. All of that knowledge stored away so that students and curious masses could look upon them and learn about the world they live in. Of course, this was a necessity until the Internet was invented,” oh the joys of the Internet, it truly is a wonderful thing, “If you knew where to look, and understood how to trust a source, you can learn anything you wanted.”

“Anything?” he asked, very interested in what I was saying.

“Yep, literally anything that has been discovered, anything that has been learnt, and even somethings that are in the process of being learnt, you can learn it all for yourself,” I am going to really miss the internet, but not the comments though, I am really not going to miss the comments.

“That’s amazing!”

“And it’s also, very dangerous,” I said, super cereal.

“What?”

“Have you ever really looked into chaos? Have you ever stared into the heart of insanity? The Internet is heaven as much as it is hell, if you stumble onto the wrong site, or open the wrong page, you could be horribly scarred for the rest of your days,” I was once eleven, and was served a heaping helping of Creepypasta. It was probably the most effective anti-sleeping agent I could have courtesy of Jeff and his pasty white face. Hoo-ahh. Just thinking about it makes me shiver. After all was said and done, it didn’t take long for Purple Grape to return with the mayor.

Her initial reaction was tantamount to the Marshmallow’s reaction, that as in she freaked the hell out. The conversation that followed was infused with a mix of promises of non-violence and questions about my humanness, mostly focused around if I would go insane and eat every living thing around. It was not a very pleasant experience. I swear, these ponies thought I was the plague or something terrible like that. Before she left however, the mayor said that I would have to make a ‘public announcement’ or something along those lines. I agreed that this would be a good solution to my enigma-ness that I held. Unfortunately, word did get out that there is an alien in the library, just no one knew what it was. It seems that I did actually get caught when I was looking out the window yesterday. Oh well, I’ll jump that hurdle when I get there.

The rest of the day was unremarkable. The little awesome dude did as expected and shoved the neat-o organising system up the grape’s schnoz, over which Twilight immediately nerd-gasmed. She marvelled over how logical and easy this sorting was and why ponies haven’t thought of this style before. After she made a copy of the sorting notes she sent it to the Sun God as a means to distribute it through the libraries of Equestria. The rest of this day was spent in the library cataloguing and sorting the books. As I said, not many exiting things happened today, as there wasn’t the time allowance for it.

Anyway, enough about that, it’s late enough as it is.

Good Night.

Author's Note:

...nds.
The ride never ends.
The ride never ends.
The ride never ends.
The ride never ends.
The r...

Comments

[Murder Knight]

I'd find myself tied to a steak and burned alive

One of the more delicious ways to die.

So we've got the Dewey conversation, the Mayor's meeting, and Rarity. No diversions yet.