Hold My Life

by keflexxx

All Shook Down

Part One – All Shook Down

If you had to pinpoint the moment where it all started to go wrong, you would probably say that it occurred when you slipped and fell over the railing. Others might say that it started to go wrong when the water on the rooftop began to freeze over, or when the rainclouds dropped the water there in the first place, or when Mrs. McCraw boiled the kettle last week for her cup of tea and the water vapour lazily traipsed its way across the kitchen, assimilating with the surrounding air and eventually the upper atmosphere; hot air rises after all. But no, you had far too much self-determination to attribute your troubles to such causes.

After all, you had been the one who'd decided 3 in the morning was a *great* time for stargazing, you had brought your telescope up the several flights of stairs it took to reach the summit of the apartment complex, you had eyed off the ice skittering across the concrete and flippantly decided to ignore it, and of course you'd decided to place your telescope right at the edge of the safety rail bordering the root itself. Retrospectively you decided it was probably the true culprit in all of this, and you resolved yourself to never make such a foolish mistake ever again.

Oh, right. You're still falling. Never mind, then.

As the ground rises to meet you, air whips past your ears creating a deafening squall. One of cicadas milling about close by, the sporadic whizzes & roars of late-night drivers, but otherwise a really quite peaceful stillness pushes its way forcefully into your ear canal. One of the cicadas winds up in your mouth, and you're moving far too fast to be able to spit it back out. 'If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me' you think to yourself with a mental chuckle.

A lot of people think your last moments alive must surely be terrifying; your life flashes before your eyes, you immediately build up a sizable catalogue of regrets & remorse & renouncements and your last thought is that of sheer, unbridled helplessness. It makes sense, of course there's probably very few people alive today who can claim to be experts on how it feels to die but it *makes sense*. Turns out they're wrong; what you think about is how terrible cicadas taste and oh God he's still buzzing around in there please just stop moving this is really uncomfortable. Shame you wouldn't be around to tell anyone about your amazing discovery.

A flash of light & heat, and the cacophonous 3am tranquility builds to a roiling crescendo in your ears as you hit the pavement with a ceremonious nothing.

Nothing at all. It's like you were never there.

*****

A dull thud echoes through your skull, causing your eyes to flutter open blearily & unwillingly. At first the sudden influx of light causes you blink, but as you adjust to the presence of the Sun you begin to wonder how on Earth the Sun even managed to get there; the last you remember it wasn't anywhere to be found. But let's face it, the last you remember you were about to die in a spectacular, headline-grabbing fashion and it's fair to say preconceptions about whether or not you're about to die take precedence over preconceptions about the time of day wait a second...

Oh shit! The telescope, the railing, the falling. What happened to all of that? Was this some sort of afterlife, or was the whole moonlight astronomy thing some sort of dream? No that seemed stupid; you remembered coming up with that idea. You certainly didn't remember falling asleep in a field of trees.

And it looked like that's exactly where you were. You begin to hesitantly look around and you're met with endless neat, well-kept rows of what appear to be apple trees. And 'appear' is definitely a good choice of words here; these trees are nothing like the ones you're used to. All the foliage is brightly and equally coloured, so much so that it's hard to tell where one leaf ends and another begins. But what were you, a leaf analyst? Not really, and that’s probably not a real job either so who cares; maybe these trees just weren't found in the city or something.

But *everything* you're looking at seems to radiate this Fisher Price vibe; the sky is a uniform blue dotted by flat white clouds, the grass is a neat & tidy green. You look down at the apple next to you, the one that must have woken you up. It too stood in open defiance of palette convention, displaying its red & whites & pinks with absolutely no variation at all. You smile to yourself; Newton gets hit by an apple and discovers gravity, you get hit by an apple and discover you're completely crazy.

The thing is, you feel completely fine. Far better than you had any right to, given the scheduled altercation between yourself & the sidewalk. You deliberately make your way to your feet and bounce up & down in place, flexing your knees to make sure you're altogether. Guess there's nothing else to do but walk. You begin to make your way along the carefully arranged tree rows - it must be an orchid of some sorts you imagine - and your mind starts to wonder what sort of subconscious desire this might represent. That's what it had to be, right? But seriously, apples? An apple orchid? Were you upset deep down that you died before you ever got the chance to you know, propagate the species? Between the intentional plot of land designed to *grow* a *thing* in a planned fashion and the fact that apples had *seeds* you figured you might have something there. Had you secretly desired a life out in the country, away from the hustle & bustle & slippery killer rooftops? Did you just really like apples?

Bang!

'Geez, what was that?' you ask yourself, not really expecting an answer. The sound is followed up by a series of smaller thudding noises; apples falling off the tree you presume. But that means that someone must have *knocked* the apples off the tree oh man, were you going to have to face your ego or whatever? That always seemed like the realm of movies by that guy who filmed Eternal Sunshine, nobody actually *did* that did they? I mean, what would you even say? "Sorry about getting us both killed, you want an apple? It's on the house. No, I actually have a healthy mother/son relationship but thanks for asking!"

The sounds came from somewhere close by and to your left. You resolve yourself to head in that direction; no use running away from something that was a part of you, right? It'd probably know where to find you after all. Before long another loud bang echoes through the orchid, and you can see the source of the sounds off in the distance.

Was that a pair of...hooves? Yep, looked like your ego was a horse; awesome. On the plus side he looked to be a strong horse; being able to kick apples off the tree aside, he appeared to have a thick midsection and sturdy flank. He also appeared to be red in colour, which was odd but hey, you were getting pretty used to everything here being ridiculous at this point. As you approach the horse you notice a few more things about him; namely that he appeared to have a large Granny Smith apple imprinted on his side and his facial features seemed to be more streamlined & pronounced than the horses you're used to seeing (you know, on TV and stuff). His eyes shone a bright green and were near three times the size of the eyes of a regular horse; his brow was furrowed, clearly focused on the task at hand. Despite being an animal, you could tell he was dedicated to accomplishing his task on a level not typically reserved for your run-of-the-mill creature. But hey, you always prided yourself on your conscientiousness, it stands to reason that your ego should feel the same.

You come to a stop about four paces in front of the horse, and attempt to lean casually against an adjacent tree. It's hard not to be nervous though; you're not entirely sure if any of your decisions will impart consequences in this world but they probably do and you're about to talk to a big red horse who could splinter your skull with one well-aimed kick which he seems to be *really good at performing*...

"Uhh, hey there." You hesitantly venture, managing to keep your voice steady despite great odds.

The horse casually raises his head up to regard you and as he takes in your visage he visibly tenses up, his legs locking into place and his head freezing in place at around shoulder-height. Seconds pass, and a slight breeze swishes the leaves in the trees from side-to-side (even though you can't *see* the leaves moving, you can hear them rustling softly). The seconds begin to add up and the horse blinks dumbly, stoically refusing to move from his place as - you assume - he tries to make sense of your presence here.

Well, what now? Are you just going to stand here for seconds, or minutes, or hours until something comes along to break the silence? Might as well break it yourself. "My name's Anonymous, I'm new here." You groan inwardly; this horse is terrified of you it's pretty damn obvious you're new here. For that matter, why are you talking to a horse at all? Maybe he can't talk back because hey just because he got an apple tattoo doesn't mean he's sentient maybe he just has a really stupid redneck owner who got really drunk one night and decided it'd be a laugh to-

"Yep." The horse replied in a strong Western drawl, rolling the 'Y' on his tongue for what felt like forever. Still frozen in place he narrowed his eyes and craned his neck forwards as if to regard you more closely, his pupils dilating in what you would regard as fear if he was a human. But he was a horse, maybe they were dilating in...hunger? The seconds began to build up once more.

"So...what's your name?" One, two, three, four-

"They call me...Macintosh. Big Macintosh."

"Who's they?" One, two, three-

"My family, friends, ponies in town."

"Oh, so there's a town around here?" One, t-

"Yep, Ponyville. Me & the family sell our apples down there."

"I'm guessing you're a pony then."

"Yep." One, two, three, fo-that's long enough.

"Well Big Macintosh, pleasure to meet you." You extend your hand and immediately second-guess yourself because these "ponies" must spend their whole life on all-fours so why on Earth (are you even *on* Earth anymore?) would they shake hands...hooves? How can you SHAKE a HOOF Jesus Christ I'm an idiot maybe he won't notice-

Big Macintosh's lip curled upwards slightly into a small smile as he brought his hoof out to meet your hand and you shook. 'One small step for man...' you think as you smile in return.

"So this Ponyville, could you take me there? I'm kind of...lost." You motion around yourself towards the orchid and shrug your shoulders.

"Well, I've got a fair few apples to buck...but...alright. Can't let nobody wander off on their lonesome. The road's down this way." Big Macintosh turned around to face away from you and pointed down the row of trees. As you squinted you could see the faint outlines of a white picket fence running alongside a neatly-kept dirt road. He began to make steady strides towards it.

"Thanks Big Macintosh."

"Big Mac's fine by me, Anon." He replied, predicting the short-form of your name.

Appearances *can* be deceiving, you suppose.

***

The apple trees have long since given way to trees of the regular variety, their green hues darker in nature and their formations more hap-hazard, the well-groomed lines of the orchid overtaken by clusters, bare patches, thickets of brambles, bushes, shrubs. Small brightly-coloured & brightly-behaved animals scampered through the undergrowth, bringing the decidedly impossible scenery into vivid, inescapable reality. The road continues on unabated in a simple, straight line.

"So Big Mac, where am I exactly?"

"You don't know?"

"No clue, all I remember is waking up in your orchid."

Big Mac shakes his head. "Not my orchid; *our*. Me & Applejack & Granny Smith & Applebloom."

"Right." Geez, these guys sure do love their apples. Wasn't variety the spice of life or something? Maybe that's a human thing.

"You're in Equestria, Anon. It's a big country stretching from Manehattan in the South to Phillydelphia in the North. Heck with Cloudsdale and all, it's even in the sky. We've got two Princesses running the place, and a few other towns around the place. Ponyville's somewhere in the middle." You turn to regard Big Mac. He didn't seem to be a big talker, but the words he did say were carefully chosen. Between that and the obviously farm-borne accent you assume that he's not a big fan of wasted effort, and you begin to wonder what he thinks of typical conversational convention wherein people speak volumes about nothing in particular.

He stops in the middle of the road and turns his face to meet yours, eyes glancing upwards to catch your own. They really were massive, you probably didn't need to say so much as a pony when your eyes were the size of dinner plates. Gateway to the soul and all that.

"Cat got your tongue? Town's not much further." He continues onwards, and you smile to yourself as you recommence your walking.

"So Anon...what are you exactly?"

"That's a bit of a vague question, Big Mac."

"You know what I mean; I haven't seen the likes of you around these parts before."

"Well, I'm a human."

"Hu...man," He shakes his head, "Nope, never heard of ya."

You chuckle. "Well, we're big in some parts of the world."

"I reckon you should visit Twilight Sparkle. She's the brains in Ponyville, if anypony knows anything about hu-mans it'll be her."

Anypony.

A-ny-po-ny.

Alright then.

"She far away?"

He shakes his head. "Nope, just over this hill."

As you make your way to the hilltop, the peaks of tiled rooftops come into view. Soon they're joined by the intricate straw arrangements of thatched cottages, and before long the entirety of Ponyville lies before you. The dirt road at your feet turns to cobblestones at the foot of the hill, and it leads into a haphazardly-arranged assortment of houses, the road losing its singular direction and veering off to the left & right in a variety of twists & turns. The houses seem to be largely simple in design, mostly single-storey and with modest, tidy gardens at the bookending them. In the centre of town appears to be a clearing where several stalls are placed, pony street vendors hawking their wares to the passers-by. And passers-by there were; the landscape was dotted with bright, pastel ponies going about their day. It looks like they weren't all red; you can see shades of pink & purple & yellow & brown & well everything really scurrying along the streets, the clacking of their hooves against the streets coming together to form a discordant rhythm that seems to echo the discordance of your day so far.

Big Mac nods towards a house nearby, just down the road a bit and to the left. "That's her."

As you walk towards it, you notice how this house differs from the ones surrounding it. Probably because it was a giant tree and every other house was, you know, a house. It was a large tree too, the trunk stretching upwards over the neighbouring houses and branching outwards in every direction, the foliage dotted across its limbs but neatly sorted into separate pockets. There were a couple of circular lavender windows that stood out against the bark surface, and a red door was planted firmly amongst the tree roots. This part of Ponyville seemed to be relatively quiet at the moment; no ponies were in the streets. Probably a good thing, you didn't want to have to go through the same introduction you had with Big Mac any more times than was absolutely necessary.

Big Mac raised his hoof to the door and rapped gently, the door making a highly-pitched thunk as he made contact. A few seconds pass, and the door swings open to reveal...a baby dragon?

You probably should stop being surprised at this point.

He was purple - with green scales running along his spine - and he didn't come up much past your waist. Much like Big Mac his eyes were far bigger than they had any right to be, and one of his tiny claws was clutching a nondescript blue gemstone.

"Big Mac? This had better be good, I was getting ready for lunch."

Big Mac uses his head to motion behind himself in your direction and a sharp intake of breath cuts through the Ponyville ambiance, soon followed by the lone clatter of a blue gem hitting the wooden floorboards of the house. Yet again, a few seconds pass by.

"...Twilight? Twilight? You should probably get out here." The dragon calls into the expanse of the house, then turning back to yourself & Big Mac, his eyes wide with what was probably four parts fear, six parts curiosity. Or something like that, you were never big on numbers.

The clicking of hooves across the timber makes itself known, and yet another pony makes its way into view. This one had a purple coat, and was clearly less physically impressive than Big Mac; you guessed it was a female. Her mane was both pink & a darker shade of purple, and in the middle of her head was a...horn? She was a unicorn?

You probably should stop being surprised at this point.

As she came into full view, you could see three stars emblazoned across her flank and it became obvious that the tattooist in this town must be absolutely loaded.

"Spike? What is i-oh Celestia!" She exclaimed as she jumped in place a little bit, her tail frozen firmly in the air as her eyes took on the exact same look that Spikes had.

One, two, three, four.

"Big Mac?"

"Yep."

"...Who's that?" She asked nervously, her hoof dangling haphazardly as she pointed towards you.

"Name's Anon, says he's a hu-man. Thought you might like to take a look."

Twilight recovers her composure and nods in reply, anxiously smiling at the implicit compliment. "Thanks for thinking of me, Big Mac. Come in, come in, I'm thinking there's a lot to talk about." She pushed the door inwards with her head, and it swung back to reveal a rather impressive collection of books. Shelves were carved into the walls and looped around the entire circumference of the room, stacked as high as the ceiling. You could even see some piles of books off in the far corner that Twilight clearly hadn't had space for. The spines were all carefully placed alongside each other, giving the clear impression that Twilight really, *really* liked to read.

She nodded towards a set of four chairs situated around a round table in the centre of the room and you proceed to sit down next to Big Mac, with Twilight and Spike sitting opposite. The fear in Twilight's eyes seemed to be extinguished, replaced by a slight twinkle of excitement.

"So, your name's Anon?"

"Sure is." You nod.

"And you're a hu-man."

"Just human, and yes."

"What is a human? I've never read about such a thing in any of my books before."

You make a point of looking around at the veritable library of literature surrounding you. "And I'm guessing if there was a book in Equestria on the topic, you'd have read it right?" You grin sheepishly; maybe it wasn't the best idea to directly antagonise one of the first ponies you come across they could make your life *very* difficult you've got to stop being such a-

Twilight laughed quietly. "You noticed, huh? I haven't read *every* book around but I'm getting there. And no, humans haven't really popped up at all so you'll have to forgive me for being a bit...curious."

You smile at her. "Well, humans come from somewhere called Earth. And I’m guessing Earth in an unknown quantity also?"

She nods her head in reply.

"Alright, well on Earth humans are the only creatures who can speak. The ponies do nothing but neigh, and none of the other animals can talk to us; we're alone I guess. But that's okay, there's six billion of us so you never really *feel* alone. What else...well we have houses just like you do, and sometimes we build ten or twenty or fifty houses on top of each other so that as many humans have a home as possible. We work for money, we exchange that money for food & water & other things, we have schools & universities where humans can go to learn more about the world & how they fit into it, uhh-"

Twilight held a hoof up in the air. "That's enough; it sounds like your...Earth...has a lot in common with us. Where did you learn Equestrian?"

"Equestrian?"

"Your words! Your language! Don't you think it's a bit strange that you can interact with us using the exact same dialect even though you're a species we've never heard of and come from a place that we don't know anything about?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I woke up about an hour ago and found myself in a place that I'd never heard about and now I'm talking to a species I never knew existed. I'm starting to get pretty acquainted with the idea of strange."

A brief pause.

"So, what happens now? I mean I don't really want to impose on anybo...any*pony* but if the alternative is being homeless then I know what I'd choose." You venture hopefully.

Twilight smiles warmly at you, placing her hoof on top of one of your free hands resting on the wooden table surface. The sensation is a lot softer than you'd expect a hoof to be, you think to yourself. "It's okay, Anon; we're not in the business of sending anypony out to pasture if we can help it. I'm sure we'll be able to work something out."

****

Twilight Sparkle was a good pony.

As she laid down in her bed, the stillness of the night air occasionally punctuated by the short, sharp breaths of Spike lying prone in his bed on the floor next to her, she thought back to her time studying in Canterlot, the capital city of Equestria. Deep within the medieval regalia of the capital, amongst the turrets & drawbridges & flags sat the Canterlot Library, a monumental construction that positively dwarfed all other libraries in the land. To put it another way, Twilight’s house was to the Canterlot Library as an ant is to every single African elephant that has ever lived.

This is where Twilight studied under the tutelage of Princess Celestia, the ruler & overseer of Equestria. For several years she had pored over as many books as she could manage – far more than any other pony would consider reasonable or even possible – and had barely managed to make a dent in the archives vast catalogue. None of the other fillies her age had been able to understand what motivated her; the cheers & cries of youth fell on Twilight’s deaf ears as she ran headlong into a world of arcane teachings & legends.

Of course, fillies were *supposed* to have fun; they weren’t supposed to spend their every waking hour learning about the life & times of Starswirl the Bearded. But with great sacrifice can come great reward, and Twilight was rewarded with magical abilities that far outshone her peers. Every unicorn possessed magic, but when your magic could accomplish little more than levitating errant twigs you couldn’t expect to change the world. And this was exactly what Twilight intended to do; she hoped beyond hope that one day the stories of Equestrian lore that she loved so much would blossom into reality and she would be called on to protect the lives of the innocent.

And then they would all know that she was a good pony.

The redemption of Nightmare Moon – the twisted, corrupted form of Celestias sister Luna – had long since passed, and the citizens of Ponyville that had witnessed the near-tragedy were beginning to allow it to flicker out of their consciousness. Life stopped for nopony, and there were public works to commence and festivals to be organised and crops to be harvested. Twilight’s eyebrows involuntarily slumped, in what appeared to be simple fatigue but what was really a vague frustration; she wasn’t so conceited as to think she outright deserved immortalisation alongside her childhood heroes but she wanted somepony else to think she did.

Fortunately the assignment she’d received from the Princess had mostly pushed these thoughts from her mind, replacing them with a deep-seated sense of contentment & happiness that she had not known before in her young life. Princess Celestia had sent Twilight to Ponyville in order to contribute to the Equestrian knowledge base on the topic of friendship, a concept that had proven itself to be invaluable during the Nightmare Moon incident and that the Princess believed would continue to have great use in later years. While compiling her observations Twilight had become close friends with a group of ponies from the town: Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash & Rarity. The company these five afforded her had begun to grant her the childhood she’d never had, and she was starting to understand just why her peers in Canterlot had found it so difficult to befriend her.

A sigh murmured through the bedroom as Twilight closed her eyes and slept. There was still much to organise concerning the town’s new arrival, and if she was right in her suspicions then there would be plenty of questions that had to be answered.

It might not be as important as stopping a great & evil threat, but it would be important to Anon. And an ever-growing part of her thought that this was more than enough.

****

Twilight Sparkle was a good pers-*pony*.

Her house had nothing to offer in the way of guest rooms, however she did have spare bedding and linen at the ready. And thus you found yourself spilling over the sides of a mattress clearly designed for someon…some*pony* who wasn’t you, staring up at an unfamiliar wooden ceiling, surrounded by a sea of knowledge that seemed to stand in open defiance of your very existence.

But hey, you are you and you know that you are you; no number of articles & volumes & citations can take away from that, however it does make you wonder what exactly has happened to you. With the immediate worry of shelter taken care of – for now at least – your thoughts begin to divert back towards the patterns they formed earlier today. You felt pretty sure that the whole internalised confrontation concept was a dead-end at this point; there was no way your brain could come up with such a thoroughly unfathomable setting & cast, let alone keep you hostage for such a long period of time. Hell, in even the hottest sex dreams you had you still managed to be Gone In 60 Seconds.

The only reasonable alternative you could conclude was that this was in fact the real deal, and that idea was really pushing the boundaries of your sanity. Feasibility of a world that seemed to ignore the most basic of colouring conventions existing aside, how did you get here at all? Was this proof positive of a divine presence in the world? Fluke wormhole? Voodoo curse? All possibilities, and all things you assumed were simply not possible or likely or real. The very strong chance that you were mistaken in that regard really opened the floodgates, and it made you wonder exactly what other misconceptions you might have.

It’s a good thing then that you’re able to distract yourself once again with more pressing issues. Specifically, what now? Twilight and yourself had agreed that the presence of a creature in Ponyville with no historical precedent that towered over its inhabitants would likely cause some sort of consternation amongst the townsfolk, and as such the two of you had decided it would be best if you laid low for at least the first night. But that was no way to live; you’d have to make yourself known eventually. The questions then were when and how you planned to accomplish this, and they weren’t exactly easy to answer. Twilight’s recommendation had been to speak to the town Mayor tomorrow; her rationale being that if the town was informed you weren’t dangerous by an official voice then the risk of reprisal would be diminished. It made sense – Twilight really did seem to have her head screwed on right – but she didn’t seem confident that the Mayor would be easily persuaded of your harmlessness.

You yourself were convinced enough though, so you allowed yourself to breathe a small sigh of relief. Everything seemed to be working out okay, aside from the whole being inexplicably transported to a world where you had to suspend your disbelief so far it could circumnavigate the Solar System. You’d even managed to make friends of sorts; both Twilight & Big Mac had been nothing but welcoming & understanding & just generally willing to stick their necks out for you. That was hard enough to come by in a well-established friend back on Earth; to find it two times over on your first day in Equestria seemed nothing short of amazing. Perhaps you simply had good luck this time around.

Big Mac had said he’d be returning tomorrow to see how you were coping with everything, and he’d also spoken about bringing some of the family along for the ride as well. You supposed that his reasoning was in part to do with being able to verify that he had in fact shirked his duties today for a good reason; presumably running home and claiming you’d had to go because a colossal alien creature needed directions wouldn’t be all that convincing. Even so you were happy for the visitation; Big Mac seemed to be a good pers-ony and you could only imagine any family of his would be the same.

The mattress was soft & supple & downy and despite its unwieldy size, you find that it’s beginning to work its magic. As your eyes slide shut for the final time you picture a moment when the questions & gnawing uncertainties of your presence here have been resolved, and yourself & Twilight & Big Mac are sitting around the same table you occupied today, the veiled interrogation replaced by the joyous back & forth of conversation between good friends. And for a group of simple acquaintances, it seemed like that might not be as out of reach as it would have been back on Earth.

‘That’s enough thinking for now.’ you think.

Comments

[JadeFox]

As fucking usual lets go see twilight like fucking always. Damned brony writing prerequisite bullshit.