12. Whatever We Have Not Sufficiently Desired
I.D. INJECTOR DOE
That Indestructible Something
By Chatoyance
═════════════════════
12. Whatever We Have Not Sufficiently Desired
"By believing passionately in something that still does not exist,
we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired."
- Franz Kafka
Gregoria found the soft leather, padded, benchlike seat remarkably comfortable. It was built for a pony, a large one. Another bench faced hers, which Rachel had found perfectly suited to her in every respect. The back of the black truck was extremely comfortable for a Celestia-sized pony, and positively royal for the smaller Gregoria.
Track lighting illuminated the interior, the green carpeting provided good purchase for hooves preventing them from sliding even when the vehicle was in motion. There was a refrigerator and big screen near the far wall towards the driver. Rachel and Gregoria were encouraged by the electronic voice of Mr. Crown to help themselves to anything they wanted. Inside the refrigerator were assorted fruit and vegetable juices, unusual sodas, ice water, and several bottles of Martinelli's cider.
"I've seen these benches before, somewhere." Gregoria was sipping cider out of a large, old fashioned goblet. The shape of the cup worked very well with her hooves, and that fact did not seem to be accidental. "I don't know where, but... they're familiar somehow."
Rachel levitated a goblet of Fentimans's dandelion and burdock soda, which she was amazed to see was a real, commercial product. It tasted like a sort of strange sarsaparilla, an odd not-quite rootbeer. "I've been thinking about that too." She took a sip, savoring the unusual beverage. "Oh! I know! I know where these benches came from! These are more plush, more padded, and the backs are not transparent but, I am sure that's what they are from!"
Gregoria turned from the highly tinted, panoramic window that served as a wall to the truck-van. From the outside, the entire thing looked black, but from inside, behind the big green apple logo, most of the wall was a translucent material. It seemed to be polarized, and Gregoria suspected it could be made entirely opaque with the touch of a button. "What? Where are they from?"
"The Friendship Express!" Gregoria tilted her head, she had no clue. Rachel smiled. "From My Little Pony, of course, the train. The train you see in the opening credits? The Mane six rode it in several episodes? All the benches with transparent green backs? Look at the design."
Gregoria studied the curving swirls of the padded, leather back of Rachel's bench. "Yeah... okay. Yeah. I guess so. Mr. Crown seems pretty obsessed with the show, then. And rich. I mean, this thing is completely custom."
"He knows what we are. He must be a pony too. He must have changed, just like we did." Rachel took another sip of Dandelion and Burdock. "If I had that kind of money, I'd have a house all done up like Canterlot Palace - OOH! What if he's done just that? Wouldn't that just be the most awesomest of awesome things?!"
Gregoria studied the goblet between her fetlocks. "Uh... yeah. Sure."
"Oh, come on Greggy! Equestrian design is cool. Admit it." Rachel lay one of her forelegs over the other and relaxed. The ride was smooth.
"Rachel..." Gregoria drank the last of her cider. "I never wanted to be a pony. I don't care about pony stuff the way you do. It's just a cartoon to me. I get that it is a big deal to you, and that you really love it, but... if it hadn't been for you, I probably wouldn't have ever even known it existed."
The two rode in silence after that, for some time.
"Excuse me, miss Priss and Miss Samson." The artificial voice of Mr. Crown was back. "One of the primary purposes of the vehicle you are riding in is observation. I use it to travel in comfort - and to observe things discretely. My team has informed me that one of the examples I wish to show you has appeared, and you will arrive at that location in a few moments. Please pay attention and follow instructions carefully, this is the start of the explanation I promised you."
Gregoria's ears stood straight up, slightly angled forward as she studied the big screen on the wall. Still no picture. "Explanation? You mean why we are ponies?"
"Yes, miss Samson. The vehicle will be stopping soon. Note that the viewing ports are now opaque. I want you to use your ears, first. The transport is equipped with high quality microphones, the sounds you will hear will be coming from directly outside, on the right. Listen carefully and then tell me what you are hearing. Describe the circumstance of it to me."
Gregoria looked at Rachel. "So now he's a docent? It feels like being back in school."
"In a manner of speaking, you are, miss Samson." The machine voice paused. "Please listen now."
The sound from the speakers changed. Rachel and Gregoria could hear the noises of the street, of cars going by, of people talking in the background, a bus pulling away somewhere. This was shattered by a loud, gruff, drunken voice, the voice of a madman, raving and speaking only to himself.
"...NESIS ONE-TWENTY SEVEN! Genesis one-twentysevensevenseven, genesis, genesis, and HE made them IN HIS OWN image, he made them in his OWN image, not the some other image, not some other NO! He made them GENESIS! One, one, one twenty one twenty one twenty seven HE MADE MAN IN HIS OWN IMAGE he did, he did, all damned, all damned, YOU ARE DAMNED SIR! YES YOU! Who do you think I'm talking to anyway one twenty seven own image, one twenty all damned! All damned. All damned, I'm damned, I'm damned.... damned... one... one... GENESIS!!! GENESIS!!! It says so right in right in there right in one two seven one two..."
The sound dimmed greatly, so that the artificial voice of Mr. Crown could speak over it clearly. Behind his voice the man continued to rant, saying the same things over and over again.
"Now, please tell me what your ears tell you is going on outside."
Gregoria shook her head. She couldn't see the point of any of this, but she might as well play along. "That's some crazy. Street crazy. Probably on drugs, booze or something. These guys are all over the city. It's some homeless guy annoying everypony."
"Greggy!" Rachel was frowning. "I feel sorry for him, whoever he is. Humans have such difficult lives! He probably has a mental disorder but there's no funds to help people like that anymore. They just get dumped onto the street when whatever insurance or money they had runs out. He probably lives out in the cold!"
The voice of Mr. Crown returned. "You both did well, that is precisely what any human would perceive about mister Thomas Clements there. Let's take a look at Mr. Clements now, shall we?"
The polarized viewport brightened slowly, allowing a clear, if tinted, view outside of the transport truck.
The bus stop was filthy, the sidewalk old and cracked. People walked by, deliberately avoiding the corner where what could only be mister Thomas Clements stood and ranted. He stood on the sidewalk, yelling and raving biblical verses while flapping his reddish-brown wings.
In his front right claw, he held a large bottle, a cheap wine, which he occasionally tipped into his sharp beak. His feathers were soiled and in some places torn from his body and wings. Clement's feline hindquarters somehow managed to still have pants on them, the cuffs torn, the zipper open. His hind legs had shredded remnants of what had once been white socks just above the clawed paws. His long lion tail had ripped through the back of his trousers, it had red marks on it where it looked as if it had been injured in various ways.
"It's a griffon! He's a griffon, like Gilda! Like the griffon in that episode!" Gregoria remembered Gilda, she was one of the few characters she actually liked. Then it fully hit Gregoria. "...hey ...he's not a pony."
Malus Crown broke in. "No, mister Clements is not... a pony. Mr. Clements was apparently once a family man, active - as is perhaps obvious - in his faith, which was, I am informed, a fairly severe and narrow one. As far as can be researched, he transformed about five years ago, and was unable to cope with the experience. He was put into several institutions, given numerous pointless treatments which seemed to only make things worse, and as miss Priss so accurately put it, he was dumped out on the street when the money ran out."
Clements continued to rant, screaming to the sky, cursing himself for not being human. Rachel could not bear it. "Please! Please... either help him or... or turn the sound off and drive on. I can't... I just can't..."
The viewport instantly dimmed, becoming black and opaque. Gregoria could feel the truck accelerating away from the corner, stopping briefly, and then turning and accelerating again.
"Wait." Gregoria felt something was wrong. "Rachel! When did My Little Pony start? When was the first episode?"
Rachel was staring at her empty cup, which she set down on the floor. "Ah... 'bout three years ago. Why?"
Gregoria turned to the screen. There was nothing to see, but Mr. Crown could apparently see them, and she wanted him to see her now. "You blew it, Crown. You said that the Clemens guy turned five years ago. That was before the cartoon even came out!" Gregoria snorted. She had caught Crown in a lie.
"Very astute, miss Samson. A very sharp observation. You are correct. Mister Clements was transformed into a My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic griffon one full year before Lauren Faust even conceived of the show, two years before the program was first released. Mister Clements became a griffon at least a year before that particular vision of such a creature had even been sketched."
"That's impossible!" Rachel had been brought out of her grief for the poor man by this new information. "Unless... wait a minute! Are you suggesting that Equestria predates Lauren Faust? That Equestria is real, that it exists out there somewhere, and that Lauren Faust just somehow tapped into it? I KNEW it! Equestria is too amazing NOT to be real! Oh, WOW, this is fantastic! And you have the means to get there! That's what you meant by 'your little Equestria' back at the apartment!"
The electronic voice was plain and direct. "No. That is entirely incorrect, miss Priss. To the best of my understanding and knowledge, there is no Equestria. Equestria is a fiction, miss Priss, invented by many talented artists working together. It is a completely false, nonexistent fantasy land, with no more substance or reality than Middle Earth or the Land of Oz. Or Pepperland, for that matter."
"Pepperland?" Gregoria had no clue on earth what that was, worse, it sounded silly to her.
"But we're ponies! I'm Celestia, for Luna's sake! Well, I'm not really Celestia, but I'm in a Celestia look-alike! It even came with all of her jewelry and everything!" Rachel was on the verge of tears. The last thing she wanted to hear was that Equestria was a lie.
"I am sorry, miss Priss. If you think about it, the fact that you wear Celestia's body confirms that there is no real Equestria. If there truly was such a place, wouldn't it be more likely that you would have been transformed into some anonymous, ordinary pony rather than an actual character from the cartoon? And the fact that the character you have been transformed into is such an important one - does that seem reasonable to you, were Equestria a real place?"
Tears were now running down Rachel's white cheeks. "Maybe... maybe Celestia needed a double here on earth... maybe... she's in trouble and needed a decoy, or maybe it's a reflection of a higher... or maybe..."
"Rachel... Rachel..." Gregoria was off her soft bench and down on the carpeted floor, her forelegs wrapped around her friend as best as she could. "Okay, Crown, then what is going on then? Just tell us what the deal is!"
"I will tell you. But there is one more thing you need to see before my explanation will make sense to you."
Gregoria felt frustrated and angry. "Look at what you've done to her! Come on, just talk to us, no more of this supervillain swirl, okay?"
"You need to see this with your own eyes. I am sorry, but it is necessary." The voice of mister Crown fell silent after that, and would not answer further.
The second example took some time to be located. The target had escaped the eyes of Crown's team and they took an hour to find him again. Gregoria and Rachel were served lunch during this time by a young woman named Bethany who brought them a large basket.
Inside the basket were two sealed containers of a very rich vegetable and barley soup, some rather excellent watercress and dandelion sandwiches on toasted ciabatta bread, and two entire peach pies. Rachel easily downed her meal in its entirety, Gregoria wanted to finish the pie but just couldn't. Rachel was more than happy to finish what she could not.
Bethany came and removed the basket, and politely asked Gregoria and Rachel if they needed anything else. Gregoria needed to use the restroom, and so a stop was arranged to that end. By the time the two friends had returned - Rachel had decided to make use of the opportunity as well - Crown's team had found their man.
The drive was surprisingly not long, and when the transport stopped, the viewing port was not made opaque, but remained translucent.
"Miss Priss, miss Samson. This time it is not your ears I want you to use, but instead your eyes."
The big screen by the refrigerator finally showed an image. The image was of the very scene directly outside, and must have been taken from a camera built into the transport truck, probably from the roof. A digital circle was drawn around one of the homeless men sitting in the shade of an overpass.
"This man, indicated on the screen, is not human. He has been transformed, just as we have been."
Gregoria glanced at the ordinary looking man, dressed in dirty clothes. "Nuh-uh. I don't see it. It's just a human guy. Are you seeing the same thing we are?"
The computer voice was flat, but the words suggested amusement. "Yes... and no, miss Samson. This is the correct man, though I use the word improperly, for I assure you he is not a man, and if you will make the effort, only then will we be seeing the same thing."
Rachel stared at the man, then at the screen, then back at the man through the transport window. "How? I mean, what are we supposed to do. Greggy's right - it's just a man. He's not any sort of Equestrian."
"You are correct that he is not an Equestrian. Far from it. Try this - look just to the side of him, left or right does not matter. Look at him as you would a distant star, out of the corner of your eye, not in the center of your vision. Look at him and let your mind drift. Do not concentrate on him, just look at him." This was perhaps the strangest instruction Mr. Crown had given them thus far.
Gregoria tried to do what Crown had said. She first looked at the homeless man, sitting under the bridge - after checking the screen to be sure she had the right one - and then moved the center of her vision off to the side just a little. It was surprisingly hard for her, her eye kept locking back onto the man because she was waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. "It's not working, mister Crown, I don't see..."
And then there it was. Only for a moment, because the moment it happened, Gregoria's pulse quickened, she became excited, and her vision locked squarely onto the man to see things more clearly - and with that it was gone. "Muffin! I saw something! But it vanished! But I saw it, I saw it - Rachel! Did you..."
Rachel was very quiet, it was clear she had mastered the trick and was letting her mind drift while she took in what she could with her peripheral vision. "My left hoof..." Rachel blinked, frowned, and then reset her gaze - apparently she had lost the effect just as Gregoria had.
Gregoria set herself to try again, and this time to not let herself become too fascinated, to keep her mind calm and her eyes steady and to the side. More easily now, it came again, and she began trying to interpret what she was almost seeing.
The man in her peripheral vision was dingy and dull, the color of faded clothing and the grind of living on the street. But as she let her mind settle, the shape of the man changed, and he became brightly colored. She tried, as best she could, to work out what he truly was.
The man was tall, and intensely blond, but he still looked like a man. His clothing was now green, an intense green, and cut in a very strange fashion. It seemed to be stage clothing, from some period play... no, not period, not history... fantasy. It was some kind of fantasy costume, bright and clean and exotic.
Gregoria could not bear to not know more. Her eyes locked on the strange, green-clad spectral form. For just an instant, for just a flash, she saw him clearly as he sat, back to the overpass. He was an elf. His ears were sharply pointed, his hair nordic and long, his head graced with an elaborate crown. His clothing was grand and elegant, with woven gold threads in strange, curving patterns, the sleeves done in some graceful script.
"He's Elrond." Rachel stared at Gregoria. "Not the Elrond we know, not Elrond from the movie. Not Peter Jackson's Elrond. He's book Elrond. Elrond from those paintings, um... those brothers... the Hildebrandt brothers! You know, they did all the paintings of Middle Earth, way back in my mom's day?"
Gregoria shook her head. This was deep geek stuff. She'd seen the Lord Of The Rings at the theater, and that was it. And that only because her sister Greta wanted to see it. "Huh?"
"Once again, you impress, miss Priss. The man is indeed Elrond, or to be more specific, an incidence of Elrond. His earthly name is Neil Walter Allen. He was a private first class during the Vietnam war. He escaped an ambush, but his best friend did not. The best friend, another private named Hervey Lewis Taylor was a Tolkien fanatic. During the sixties, many people, both in and outside of the military became obsessed with the Lord Of The Rings. This is the primary reason those books became culturally relevant at all.
"The level of fanatical obsession with Middle Earth during the sixties approached or exceeded the level of obsessive fanaticism seen with regard to the Oz books in the early nineteen hundreds. Like the Oz craze, many people wanted to believe that their perfect fantasy world was real. Fanfiction was written revolving around the concept of somehow gaining permanent admittance to the world they yearned for. People created art and crafts, trying to make their fantasies real.
"You may also find it very interesting that Mr. Allen's lost friend had a nickname for him, a nickname that he always used."
Rachel looked shocked, then resigned. "Elrond."
"Yes, miss Priss. You are beginning to understand."
Gregoria was not following any of this. "What? Rachel, is there actually something to all of this gobbledegook?"
Rachel gave Gregoria a nod, and motioned with her hoof. Gregoria tried to settle down. "Mr. Crown... we can't see Elrond clearly because he is from a different fandom, a different... belief, or wish or whatever. But we can kind of see him because we've been changed too, because we're not human anymore, is that right?"
"Yes, miss Priss. Go on."
Rachel looked at her hooves, then back to the screen. "His friend... his friend died. In war. His friend that called him 'Elrond'. His friend was a Tolkien fan, wasn't he. I mean a total fan, just over the top, like... "
"Yes, miss Priss?"
"Rick. Rick called me 'his princess', he called me 'Celestia'. That was his nickname for me. I wanted to be Fluttershy, but he saw me as Celestia, and... and... he died in war. He died in an ambush, sort of. Unexpectedly." Rachel sniffed, mixed emotions sweeping across her features. "Is that it? Last wishes come true?"
The big screen was silent for a time. "No, not precisely. You have a remarkable mind, miss Priss. But it is not wishes. There is no magic to this, although it would be nice if that were the case. But you have understood correctly that a single human can cause unimaginable changes to happen under a specific, unusual circumstance. No, it is not the fact of being ambushed, that is merely a coincidence. But war can be a factor, as can any disaster or event sufficient to take men, and perhaps the world itself, beyond proper functional parameters."
"Okay, I am, totally lost here. I am not getting any of this. Can anypony explain things to the dumb little earthpony!!!" Gregoria was breathing heavily, and she had stomped her hoof on her soft, leather bench covering, which only achieved a dull 'plumph'.
"You said 'functional parameters', mister Crown?" Rachel reached out a long, white foreleg and rubbed Gregoria's back to comfort her.
"That would be the term I prefer, yes."
Rachel carefully got off her bench, easing herself onto the carpet, to be closer to her friend. She wrapped her forelegs around the little yellow earthpony and held her close. "Greggy... oh, my dear, sweet Gregoria... Greggy, you like video games, right?"
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Okay, I'm a tad confused here. I hope you explain things in depth next chapter.
2697210
Absolutely. Some will already know, just from this. The elucidation for everyone comes next.
Ooh, I'm at that point of almost understanding where my mind takes off down a dozen different paths at once, but all in the same general direction.
(And I'm a silly for not paying closer attention to the quotes at the start of each chapter, aren't I?)
I suppose, once I figure this shit out,
will become an instance of a Wham Line. (WARNING: TVTROPES LINK)
"there is no equestria"
well done. youve shattered my every belief.
Bravo sir. Just... Bravo..
I can't say that I have any idea what is going on, but you have just taken this piece of work beyond standard fanfiction. This has turned from just another human-turns-to-pony-fanfic to something epic. I can't wait for more!
If anyone ever deserves a moustache for a story, that is you.
i9.photobucket.com/albums/a81/Gn4rk1ll/citizen-kane-clapping.gif
Is this where the Paradise-style quantum computer comes in?
Hrm, I'm actually not sure if this revelation would severely affect me. I would, of course, ponder why, but I figure there is eff-all one could do about it. Probably displays some depressing mental health on my end, but how would we know how one reality is any more real then another? It's real to us, isn't that enough?
Reality hacking through extraordinary circumstances. Neat.
I can't help but think of the World of Darkness, with the various supernatural creatures each dealing with their own problems and communities, occasionally butting against one another and boggling at the bizarre creatures before them.
Still, this doesn't explain how transformations can preempt their source material. I guess I'll just have to wait for the next installment.
Hmm, not sure what the video reference is about, but my current bet is that humans are part of a simulated reality. I'd say that Chain Reaction has a similar idea, but opposed to the Paradise setting where probably some virus changes the individuals, we have still some other options. It could be that the simulation code is flawed and the human minds are able to influence parts of it. That at least would explain "Celestia" and "Elrond".
Still it doesn't explain the fact that a gryphon appeared before the show. Or why Gregoria changed - she is established to be some kind of loner, so there is no Rick equivalent for her. Considering that Equestria isn't supposed to exist this kinda rules out the possibility that an Equestria is simulated and due to some flaw the (character) models are exchanged between the Earth instance and Equestria. But only kinda, as Malus Crown might not be aware of such instance. As we do not know his reasoning yet we can't say how likely he is to be right.
An alternative theory is that the simulation has a vastly bigger library, from which the simulated reality draws its pieces from. I can imagine having a program creating some self consistent environment, determining not only the set of physical laws, but also creating a historical background. Such program would also create myths as well, and it is conceivable that it created the Equestrian setting as well. For some reason it did not only seed the mere idea of Equestria into Lauren's mind, but actually added such setting stuff in the true reality. But why the timing is off, I cannot say. Or why the normal people still see the fantasy stuff as it is supposed to be.
2697604
Thank you. FIXED!
Good shit.
2697826
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Clap You Hands If You Believe, anyone?
Ahhhhhhh, now I see where the Nick Bostrom acknowledgement comes from.
So presumably MLP and LotR and all the rest are already in this supercivilization's library, or otherwise incorporated into the code (or generated procedurally from a kind of quorum sensing of human desires) as being how new simulations "bud off," but I have to wonder what it is exactly that's capable of knocking things out of their proper parameters in the first place, causing that kind of hack, since it's clearly "allowed." Looking forward to finding out!
2697581
No.
Okay, yes, that seems to explain what's going on.
Chatoyance's Injectorverse: Entertains and educates you, while at the same time causing you to have an existential crisis which completely shatters every perception of reality. My brain has exploded more times reading this story, than the movie set of every Michael Bay film ever made. My mind has been blown like Bill Clinton in the Oval Office. And I am loving every second of it!
2700522
Injectorverse
Yes. That is PERFECT! Thank you.
i am glad you are back but I wish you would do more tcb stories after this please.
2700626
Actually, I am thinking in that direction. I have not abandoned the Bureau, far from it. There are several Bureau stories I have always wanted to tell, and maybe now, I can.
Pepperland.
PEPPERLAND!?
Pepperland is a tickle of joy on the blue belly of the universe. It must be scratched. Right, Max?
"Yes, your Blueness!"
WHAT? We Meanies only take "NO" for an answer! Is that understood, Max?
tlb.hwcdn.net/g5a9r2d3/cds/media/671/0d6412cac6c0f/view.jpg
"No, your Blueness!"
That's better.
freewebs.com/chtfreak64/Other%20Blue%20Meanies.jpg
Hurr hurr hurr hurr.
2703192
I like me some Yellow Sub. That was great, yrfoxtaur!
Ah,. yes, time to comment on this! I am glad it is continuing, and despite my clever-clogginess, there are still plenty of twists and turns I cannot anticipate. The injectorverse (yes, I think I like that too, 2700522 ) just broke my brain for the crazy it can dish out. Now I'm puzzled by how time doesn't seem to be an issue with the mysterious source of the changes (I've worked out who and when, just not what nor how, and I suspect why may forever remain out of reach) and the idea of competing changes to reality battling it out according to some pattern... oh man.
Write more. Been waiting for chapter 13 too long.
One issue I had was that chapter 12's bridge crossing was not sufficiently tumultuous. It was the crux of their journey, but narratively it was over before it began. Bad form, there. Slap wrist.
2706967
Hmm.. so you are saying that that should have been longer, actually on the bridge? It did seem a little anticlimactic, I agree. Or should the journey there have been longer - or is it that more should have happened? Maybe running into people, or nearly being run over or something like that? Or should they have used the time, on the bridge, to sightsee more or to talk about their lives, or hopes?
I guess what I am asking is, I grant that it was a little short for such a build up, but what should I have done? What would you suggest, so the next time I am faced with such a situation, I will know how to handle it?
2697581 Well, yes, it seems an aweful lot like Paradise, doesn't it? But this effect has been going on for longer, and doesn't show any sign of collapsing in on itself. I think it's similar (duh), but there seems to be more to it than a computervirus...
…The Matrix… O_O
Hm... a universal wave function that, however briefly, happens to factorize into something that looks like the world we think we know. Who's to say that it could not equally factorize into a world that looks completely different, without truly changing anything about reality itself? A composite number may only have one unique prime factorization, but that is by far not the only way to factor it out. The human brain isn't used to seeing the world this way. It builds one simple spatial model and then clings to it for as long as possible until something it cannot comprehend FORCES it to adjust the model. Our belief in that model strengthens it, and blinds us to the spots where it doesn't work. If we could believe just as strongly in a different model, and that model could successfully represent a different but equally valid-or-close-enough factorization of the universal wave function, then we would see the world in a completely different yet wholly consistent way that would still, ultimately, be "real".
Okay, that was an odd place to drop a chapter ending. Is this going to end up being quantum - what we perceive of ourselves controls our form? If so... well, that wouldn't fit in with the fact that both Rachel and Gregoria had some several days of warning symptoms. Is it that, at the moment of violent death, enough psychic energy is release to slowly cause changes?
Right; off to the next chapter.
Some people on a forum I frequent (with some involvement from be, but I don't think that I did enough to really take credit) worked out that Equestria seems to use Brunel gauge. Just an aside spurred by the mention of the train.
"He knows what we are. He must be a pony too. He must have changed, just like we did."
He did say that, you know. Mostly. Not the "pony" part… :D
…Huh. An insane (or maybe just really drunk) religious griffon.
Praise be to the Prophet Faust? Very interesting. I'd say that this was yet more deepening of the mystery, but I expect that it will soon be explained.
…An elf. Well. That doesn't make things more confusing at all! :D
Ooh, the world as a simulation, is it? Interesting. Though, of course, there's also the question of whether Mr. Crown is correct; at the moment, I don't think I have enough data.
Huh. Okay, this is getting weird.
Onward!
Oh my Celestia, Bethany. 27 Ounces reference!