I stared at the stern man in orange behind the window. Brought shoulders, average build, if not a bit pudgy around the waist, and--
...no. I am not gonna make this weird.
"What do you want?" The man who was apparently my dad grumbled, "Hurry up. I ain't got all the time in the world, y'know."
Awkwardly, I waved my hand.
"Hi... dad?" I squeaked, practically shrinking back into myself. Delmar snorted behind me from the absurdity of the situation.
Michael Rowe Wayve, my dad, raised a brow.
...
WAIT JUST A SECOND. Michael. Rowe. Wayve.
My biological father's shortened name is literally pronounced "Mike Rowe Wayve", or, when said out loud, Microwave. No wonder why he seems so crabby. ANYWAYS...
"I-I'm your daughter, Gadg--I mean, Zoey." I stammered on, "I... came back."
"You're supposed to be dead." my dad snapped back, "You destroyed my reputation, my business. You destroyed my life."
Alright, old man, droppin' the act right now.
"I've already heard enough." I deadpanned back, "You hired some dangerous mage to banish me to wherever, then you and mom were booted into this place because apparently, you guys thought it was a good idea to let the guy stick around."
"How--"
I facepalmed. "I read the news, dummy."
My dad let out a long, drawn-out sigh of what sounded like disgust.
"Ten years." He groaned angrily, "Ten years in this dump with the plebians, and my brat of a daughter returns to mock me."
I frowned. "Brat?" I repeated after him, "You really thought that your child genius of a daughter, raised in a laboratory in an entirely different realm of reality, is a brat?"
Mike froze, his internal rage quickly covered by what I'd have to say is the strangest mix of both anger and confusion that I've ever seen. What followed immediately after was an equally awkward process of eyebrow gymnastics as he tried to process what I had just said.
Finally, he rubbed his forehead with a hand, scooting his seat closer towards the window.
"So." He began, "If you say that you are who you really are, Miss-Child-Prodigy, then let's hear you tell some things about yourself."
I smirked. "If that's the game we'll play, then why not?" I said slyly, pulling off my backpack-that's-totally-not-still-filled-with-camping-stuff.
I unzipped the bag, pulling out a manila envelope. Delmar, who had been watching the entire time, suddenly out burst between me and the envelope, dropping it on the floor.
"Gadget!" he whispered, "You know this information is classified!"
I rolled my eyes. "Fine then." I said in return, stuffing the envelope back into the confines of my bag. Instead, I pulled out my tablet.
"What..." my dad began, "What is that? Some sort of summoning device?"
Welp. This Equestria has helicopters, but apparently it doesn't quite have up-to-date tech compared to Earth. Yet.
"This is a tablet that--" I motioned towards Delmar beside me, "--Professor Delmar gave me when I was younger. It used to be an entertainment device at first, but it's become quite a bit more than just that these days."
I looked to Delmar, who, surprisingly, was vigorously shaking his head, mouthing, "No" over and over. I mean, can't the guy give me a break for once? I'm just showing my long-lost parents some of my... top... secret... technology... to... oh.
"Intriguing." Mike began, leaning closer to the glass, "Would you care to tell me about this 'tablet' and its abilities?"
"Um..." I replied, "I really don't think that I shoul--"
"I'm sincerely sorry, sir." Delmar cut in, "But Gadget--Zoey and I must leave now, am I right, kid?"
Between the suddenness of Delmar plopping me onto his back and literally pony-back-riding me out of the place, and the fact that I had just met the guy who once tried to kill me, I'd have to say that I'm pretty much as confused as I've ever been. I mean, what did I even do?