Penned IN

by Qwix

Chapter 4: At Day's End

In short time, a barn came into view and the smell of apples wafted with the dust in the air. The breeze was punctuated with a periodic thumping noise emitting from inside that barn and the twittering of the birds. As the two of them walked closer, a saccharine taste of sugar joined the apple fragrance; Pennaprose noticed Spike was drooling a steady stream.

As they approached, the thumping noise grew louder. Spike raised a hand to knock, but before he could, the door blew open and spread confetti and frosting into the air. Pennaprose caught a glimpse of a pink blur before copious amounts of frosting blinded him. They stood in mild pastry shock before a country voice came from the barn.

"Consarnit, Pinkie! I told ya apples don't work! Now lookit this mess..."

"Oopsie... but hey! The next model's gonna have a bigger shaft, so I can fire bigger stuff, like apples! In the meantime... now I gotta fix this busted thingy-bobber-dohickey-lokey-majiger. I'll let you know when I've got it upgraded so we can test it!"

Pennaprose wiped the frosting off his face in time to catch what appeared to be a smoking pastry on treads thud past him. Spike had also wiped the frosting from his face; it brightened up when he noticed who was pushing it.

"Pinkie! There you are! We've been looking for you!"

The pink mare's mane was dripping with what appeared to be a mix of applesauce and frosting. She wore an impossibly large grin as she peered around the pastry tank. "Oh hi, Spike! What's up?"

Spike cleared his throat and a little bit more of the pastry from his face. "Did you hear? Rarity's been looking for you to help plan a surprise birthday party for Sweetie Belle! ...and what the heck happened in there?"

Pinkie nervously giggled as she tried to put out a fire on top of the tank. "Oh, just tried an experiment... wanted to see if I could fit apples in the tank so I could fire them. Didn't work. But did you say party?! I'm so there! Are you going too, Spike?"

"You know it! But Twilight might oversleep, so she told me to tell you that she might miss it on accident." He sidled along the tank. "The keyword is surprise! We can't let Sweetie Belle know! Pinkie promise, okay?"

She jumped down the top of the smoldering tank. "Okey-dokey-lokey! Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!" Then she promptly slammed her face in the tank, which made a squelching sound. Through the frosting, a muffled "See you two at the party!" emitted. Then she rolled the tank out of sight.

Spike smirked in the direction of the tank. "Typical Pinkie... a party tank that shoots apples? What's the point...? Oh well, our job's done. Might as well head back home. Unless there's anypony else you should meet... Eh, the party tomorrow's gonna be a good chance anyways. Come on, let's get going!"

Pennaprose followed. "Was there any real reason I had come with you? So I met a few faces and got registered as a resident, but besides that? I feel kinda useless..."

Spike turned his head towards him. "Don't worry yourself, did you forget that this still is your first day in this town? Or for that matter Twilight would have gotten a lot of questions if some random pony nopony knew was holed up in the same house as her? By getting your face out there in public now, we can avoid some awkward questions later. You heard what Dash thought when her and Pinkie saw you, remember?"

Pennaprose frowned. "Oh yeah... that one with the rainbow hair, right? She was kinda rude..."

"She can be kinda rude, yeah... okay, really rude at times, but she's nice otherwise. Just put that one down to a bad first impression," said Spike. "And I don't think I need to say anything about Pinkie."

"Other than she has a frosting fetish?"

"Noooot quite a fetish. She's Ponyville's number one party planner. Sweets and confetti are part of her business." Spike paused to dig in his ear, unearthing what appeared to be a cherry. He tossed it over his shoulder. "On the other hand, that doesn't make her any less insane at times. What you saw today is fairly typical of her."

"Then I take it I'm going to have to put up with that everyday I'm stuck here?"

"Eeyup."

The new voice, low and certain, came from the other side of the fence that lined the dirt road. From the long grasses rose a vermillion stallion rose, trailing a cart full of branches. He kicked the fence open to let himself onto the main road.

"Hey Big Mac," said Spike. "What's with the wood? Branches that fell over the winter needed cleaning up?"

"Eeyup."

"Gonna make a campfire later with them? That looks like really good kindling... oh, by the way, this is Pennaprose. He's from Canterlot and he's staying with Twilight and I while on official business."

Big Mac towered over Pennaprose. He eyed him inquisitively, then nodded curtly at Spike and continued to pull the cart down the road without another word. Pennaprose did a double take, staring down the road where Big Mac left. "Um, what was that about?"

"That was Big Macintosh," said Spike. "He's the opposite of Pinkie in terms of noise as well as AJ's older brother. Considered the strongest pony in Ponyville, to say the least. And before you ask, you'll probably meet AJ at the party too."

"I meant the staring-at-me thing," inquired Pennaprose. "What was that about?"

Spike raised a claw to his mouth as they walked. "Well... that I'm not entirely sure. I thought he was, I don't know, judging you or something? He's never one to say much, but he's got his reasons, I'm sure."

They continued down the road in silence. Pennaprose wasn't convinced that Spike was so sure of himself. As certainly as his hooves stirred the dusty road, he felt there was something more ulterior to his actions. He could not fathom it, which only served to increase his unease about this new land.

---

The two of them arrived back home, just as the sun was beginning to set, bathing the scene in golden hues. The door was creaked open slightly.

"Helloooo? Twilight?" called Spike. "We found Pinkie and told her! And met a few faces on the way back! ...Hello?"

Twilight's dulcet tones sounded from upstairs. "Down in a minute Spike! Can you whip up dinner? I kinda can't come down at the—BOOOOOM! ...Never mi—CRASSSSSHHHHH—scratch tha—BOOOOOOOOOM! Forget I said anything! Don't come up yet!"

Spike looked up the staircase in vain curiosity, but then shrugged and trudged into the kitchen. Pennaprose glanced over; when Spike was comfortably distracted with the cooking, he snuck upstairs to investigate.

There was a low bubbling sound and a thin trail of smoke coming from the door to her room. He hesitated a moment, then decided to try and peak underneath the crack.

At that exact instance, another explosion resounded, and Twilight came flying at top speeds through the door. She hit the wall behind Pennaprose, leaving a distinct pony-shaped hole in the door. Pennaprose glanced at Twilight in mild shock, seemingly unconscious, then looked through the newly formed hole. A scattering of soot and glass around a desk confirmed the obvious guess.

On a split second decision, he levitated her onto his back and carefully trotted downstairs. The smell of chemical smoke began to give way to the burgeoning smell of roasted whatever Spike was cooking. He deposited Twilight on the couch, thought for a moment, then trotted into the kitchen to grab some ice.

Spike wheeled around as he walked in, standing atop a stool and tending to a pot. "Hey, how's Istallion sound? Does this look done to you?"

Pennaprose glanced into the bubbling pot of pasta briefly as he shuffled around for ice. "Looks uh... fine. Where's the ice?"

Spike pointed a claw above Pennaprose's head. "In there, why?"

"Whatever Twilight was doing up there knocked her unconscious. She's on the living room couch at the moment."

Spike looked back to the pot, then did a double take. "Huh what?"

"You didn't think explosions coming from upstairs was abnormal?"

"Well, yeah... but what Twilight says goes. She didn't want to be interrupted, whatever she was doing." He paused. "...Nah, that can't be it. Strain the pasta, I'm gonna go help her..."

Spike jumped up and opened the freezer, spilling several trays of ice in the process. Pennaprose levitated a tray into a bag, shelving the rest back into the freezer. Spike muttered a quick thanks before darting back into the living room.

Pennaprose turned his attention raptly to the bubbling pot of pasta and the strainer beside it. He levitated a pasta strand out of the pot, his expression one of playfulness. Smirking, he decided that using the strainer was too simple. One by one, the strands rose from the bubbling pot, wriggling like snakes.

Spike wandered back in. "Well, she's awake now. She didn't seem to want to tell me what was going on, but—what are you doing?"

The strands were flying at top speeds, tying themselves together to form a sort of pasta puppet. Pennaprose stopped when Spike came back in, the strands dripping water all over the floor. "Eheheh. Helping?"

Spike facepalmed, then grabbed the pasta and strained it. "You really loose track of reality easily, you know that?"

Pennaprose shrugged. "I'm a writer, reality is a hindrance at the craft."

"So you say..." Spike said as he emptied the pasta onto three plates along with some sauce. "But still, wouldn't it be helpful if you paid attention from time to time?"

"Yeah. But straying from the obvious is what I do best. For example, the pasta. You see it as tonight's dinner, I saw it as a means to animate a quantum physics concept. Had you not interrupted me, I would have proven string pasta theory."

Spike stared blankly. "Quanta–what now? You now what, never mind, I give up on trying to understand anything you say. Come on, let's eat..."

He carried a plate out on top of his head, while Pennaprose levitated two plates into the living room. Twilight was laying on the couch with the bag of ice on her head, looking distinctly punch-drunk. She looked up as the two of them came in, beaming. "Pasta? Sounds good!"

Pennaprose lowered a plate in front of her, then sat down opposite from her with his. She dug right in, but Pennaprose was looking at her inquiringly. It didn't take long for her to notice.

"Let me guess... the explosions, right?"

Pennaprose shifted slightly in his seat, absentmindedly twirling his spaghetti with his magic. "Uh... yeah. If you don't want to say, I–"

"Don't worry about it. I was just experimenting with an idea. About how to get you back to your world."

He perked up slightly. "Oh really? May I ask what exactly you were doing?"

She twirled her pasta anxiously, flicking her tail while she did. "Well, it failed, first off. I wanted to pursue the possibility of finding a scientific way to get you back to you world. And like any great science failure or success, it exploded. It might not be possible to send you back with the magic of science..."

Pennaprose dropped a forkful of pasta, his mouth agape. "R-really?"

She caught his look. "Oh, don't worry. I just wanted to see if science could provide a way first. There are other ways, magical ways, that could work. One in particular I can think of... the only problem is that the most surefire way involves getting permission from Princess Celestia first. It's off-limits to all but emergency use with prior approval. Which is why I wanted to see if there was a different way first. Y'know, to avoid a bunch of legal repercussions?"

"Right, right... how long is it going to take to get that approval?"

She shifted the bag of ice on her head slightly, frowning. "I could have sent a message with Spike's help and clarified the situation right by tomorrow noon. If we booked a train to Canterlot, you could be back home as early as dinner tomorrow, provided the mirror works exactly as I think it should. But the only issue is that I feel like this is too important to ask by letter."

She stabbed her fork into the pile of pasta in frustration. "Furthermore, I already checked the train schedule. For some reason, they aren't even running to Canterlot at the moment. Most strange...

"Well, if the magic of science can't work, then turning to the science of magic will. As soon as the train is back up and running, we'll book a ride there. Considering I'm a princess and Celestia's favorite..." She stopped to giggle to herself. "Well, we might be able to bypass some formalities, to say the least."

She returned to her pasta with gusto. Spike, already finished, glanced over at Pennaprose with a lazy, sleepy eye. "That mirror... convincing Celestia that you're human and need to use that thing to get back to your world is going to be the hardest part. You... might want to bring some sort of proof with you when we go."

Pennaprose said nothing. In between bites, his thoughts raced. Home... proof? My laptop, perhaps? Or maybe my way of speaking will give me away...? The more he thought, the more he felt uneasy. This Celestia... clearly an important figure. Moreover, going back... am I sure I want to? He watched Spike flick a few stray strands at Twilight playfully, who returned the favor by making him a magic pasta hat.

They've been so helpful. This world... even though I can't shake the feeling that there's something larger at work to make these ponies so happy, is that really a bad thing? It might not be all that bad if I can't return...

Another voice nagged in the back of his head. No... I don't belong here. I will find a way home. There's happiness even in the human world... I think. I belong there.

In due time, the three of them finished and bid a good night. The other two went upstairs while Pennaprose crashed heavily on the cot. The moon was almost full; it shone brightly on the cot and laptop, which was open. A blank document was open.

Pennaprose sighed to himself as he watched the night sky progress. Piercing the silence, keystrokes began to lace the air in short bursts. Eventually, they stopped; Pennaprose bent down and read what he had written to himself.

I have decided that, for the time being, I record the daily events in a document. Time being, of course, the time I end up spending here. And of course, how long my battery lasts.

I met several new ponies—how odd to type that instead of people!—today. The one who was kind enough to lend my a roof over my hoof—again, strange to type!—is a godsend. She seems to live in a library hollowed out of a tree! I haven't had the opportunity to really dig through the collection, but perhaps I will have the free time to read.

Actually, I don't know what I'm going to be doing tomorrow, besides going to some surprise birthday party for a pony by the name of Sweetie Belle. Rather I should say that I'm being dragged there. But alas, as long as Twilight is kind enough to extend her roof for me whilst I am here, the least I can do is be a good houseguest and do whatever she wishes me to do.

That dragon, Spike... I'm not sure what his relationship with Twilight is, but I feel it would be rude to inquire. From what I can deduce it seems he is some sort of servant. He appears to take his role in stride, even enjoy it. He's a nice guy, but I wish he knew what I was talking about from time to time.

A few names I can remember from today... Bon Bon, Pinkie, Rainbow Dash, Big Mac... somebody I didn't meet called "AJ". Then there was that really flamboyant mare with the purple mane, what was her name? Rarity? Oh, and there was that lemon coated mare that I woke up to this morning, what was her name again? Butterfly? Something like that.

I do hope I don't run into Pinkie too much. From the signs of things, just being around her is exhausting.

But that aside, there's so much to this world unfamiliar already. Like magic is a controllable force, for instance? That's one reason to stay in this world, I guess. So far, the only real reason. I can find libraries in the human world, I'm sure of it.

It's getting late. I'm gonna try and preserve my battery, which thankfully is practically full.

99% energy remaining.

-Pennaprose (What is my real name, I wonder?)

He levitated the laptop into his open briefcase, curling up into his blankets. Soon, slow breathing floated out the window, signaling his slumber. The cool air of night joined his breath in steady rhythm. Peace...

Outside, a bush ruffled restlessly. A single glowing green eye peered out from it, into the open window. It gazed with a cold analytic stare. As soon as the owner of that eye seemed satisfied that the pony was asleep, it rose from the bushes, revealing decayed cyan wings and a coat as black as pitch. Its mere presence seemed to disturb the tranquility of the night. It took to the night sky as silently as possible, save for a mute buzzing. It wore neither a grin nor grimace, but rather an expression of completely deadened certainty.

Pennaprose stirred. The air settled once more. The night reclaimed its silence, the air feeling almost incensed by the being's sudden appearance and dismissal.

Author's Note:

I never noticed how quickly that pasta boiled n-u until just now. Cooking is magic!