//------------------------------// // Breakfasts: Part 1 // Story: Lost in Paradise // by leeroy_gIBZ //------------------------------// “Ding!” Dinged the cellphone, wrenching me out of a good dream and back into the reality that I had originally hoped was a bad dream. For all of Sunny Flare’s eloquence where verbal communication was concerned, her written communication was sorely lacking. Well, if she was anything like her unicorn counterpart, which she was, she would be. After staring at the bizarre code displayed proudly across the cellphone's glowing screen for what felt like far too long, I surmised that I couldn't understand it because I could not actually read human. I crawled out of bed. The bed in question was far too long for my tastes; almost as if it was designed for a far taller being than your average pony. Which, after realizing that I was still a human, I agreed was a wise choice. The bed in question also happened to be situated in a fairly small and mildly disorganized room. The walls – if they actually existed– were hidden behind a number of mismatched bookshelves; all were overflowing and none were sorted. The room’s cupboards contained more reading material. Precariously balanced reading material at that. One book in particular caught my eye as I was extracting myself from the landslide of literature: My diary. Or, rather, Human Edition's diary. Just like its counterpart, it was cunningly concealed on a bookshelf cunningly concealed inside the wardrobe of my apartment. Unfortunately, said apartment was not cunningly concealed within a magnificent castle. Human Edition's apartment, if you could even call it that, was a pair of rooms in the school dormitories. Anyway, the diary was written my secret code alphabet. And again, just like mine, it contained a whole lot of useful tips for dealing with the denizens of this world. Of course, said tips were thoroughly mixed in with explicit discussions of who I would like to have relations with. I must have a word with myself about that; some of his choices were a bit bizarre to say the least. Two things that I found especially useful were the collection of maps stuffed behind the diary’s dust-jacket; they depicted in stunning detail, as was expected since that is how I usually depict things, the grounds of the school and the layout of the surrounding suburbs. The other useful thing was a list of symbols in the secret code alphabet compared to those used in the human script. With the list in hand, I investigated the text again. “Sry Mirage cant show you around cpa today. Gtg find Indi. Pls talk 2 sunset shimmer tho. rarity said she could help u. Glhf.” I was correct. This is gibberish of the highest order. I don’t even think that one of those symbols was actually a letter. I put the phone back down and returned to investigating the apartment. It seems that Human Edition is not as neat as I am. Of course, he isn’t nearly as terrible as Lemon Zest’s; the little time I was forced to spend in her rooms assured me that, after a certain volume, her choice of music does little more than scramble one’s brain cells. Of course, that would imply that she actually possessed a modicum of intelligence to begin with. The clock on the wall read 7:10. If my memory proved correct, that meant that I had about an hour before I was supposed to appear at the school proper. After I removed the last few books from my closet and stacked them in the corner where they couldn’t ambush anypony, I set about the task of figuring out how I am intended to get dressed. The addition of hands – and the subtraction of magic—did not make the task any easier. Yes, hands can be more precise and less tiresome to use but they also take an irritating amount of practice where concepts like “buttons” and “ties” are concerned. I struggled with the latter for a good while before just deciding to forgo the glorified collar. I stuffed the fabric into my satchel and continued the battle with the shirt. I began to regret not asking Sunny about the fashions of this world when I had the chance. Of course, asking her about that would likely result me not having any time to actually try any of it out – we’d probably still be talking. Instead, we spent the last two days discussing effectively everything else; culture, history, etiquette, who to avoid around school, which teachers are not figurative megalomaniac monsters, which students were literal megalomaniac monsters and how to operate the vending machines in order to obtain more delicious snacks. Eventually I corralled the buttons into their respective holes – mostly, anyway – and, after translating the schedule tacked onto my wall, I packed my satchel as well as I could and set off for the dining hall. Like the rest of the Crystal Prep Academy, the dining hall aimed to please. The interior was filled with swooping arches, elegant murals, tasteful insignias and a pleasantly relaxing color scheme of lavender and pale green. The food, as I soon found out, was not an exception either. My breakfast consisted of a fruit salad, bowl of cereal and a multitude of angry glares when I tried to drink the latter like soup. Since neither Sunny nor her friends boarded at the school, I ate alone and got down to some reading. Unfortunately, I hadn’t the time to discover where Human Edition had left his collection of Nieghponese light novels – or even if he had any in the first place – so I was forced to make do with a textbook. Said textbook was tastefully titled “IGCSE Business Studies” and, upon further inspection, contained absolutely no harems whatsoever; comedic or otherwise. The authors had instead decided to include a fairly in-depth explanation of how the human economy works. Long story short, it doesn’t. But, come to think of it, that knowledge might actually be useful if I am to stay here for any great amount of time. And come to think of it, that knowledge will be definitely be useful considering that schools generally tend to have exams. Halfway through chapter six, Consumer Protection, a bell rang. As the other students were getting up to leave, I guessed that it was 8:10 and time to see what passed for an assembly in this world. I finished off the remained fruit salad, wrapped the purple piece of fabric around my neck as best I could, hoped for the best and prepared for the worst.