//------------------------------// // 3 - Knight on the Town // Story: The Moon's Knight (or Luna's Lunatic) // by RustDust //------------------------------// Knight on the Town “Well, that was rather vulgar of you,” Rarity harrumphed. “This can’t be real. This has to be some joke, or… maybe I’m going through some relapse,” Marc muttered to himself. “…Mark?” Marc shakily stood up and walked to the nearby window. Outside he saw multiple ponies with rainbow colored coats and manes even more garish than the one he shared the room with. Some were walking with saddlebags, talking to each other, laughing, a few were even wearing clothes. Marc has had expansive delusions before, but never one so flamboyantly childish. This was also the first hallucination of his that felt real. Never before has Marc felt as lucid as he did now than when he went through his other delusions in the past. Was this actually real, or had he completely lost it this time? “Um, Mark Specter?” the purple-maned pony asked. Marc turned away from the window to face her and took in her features more closely this time. If he were standing, she would come to a little below his waist. Her purple mane and tail appeared extravagantly done compared to the ponies outside, especially to the ponies Marc was used to. On her head she also had a horn, which would make her a unicorn. Marc would’ve been skeptical that it was real, but considering his situation decided to believe it as a genuine unicorn horn; at least as genuine as the whole situation seemed. On reflection, he thinks he saw a few unicorns outside and a few flying through the sky with wings, meaning unicorns and pegasi were a thing here in addition to “regular” ponies. What Marc also recalls seeing were markings on the flanks of all the ponies he saw and looking at the flank of the one in front of him proved that wasn’t just his mind playing more tricks on him. Most notably however was how much more human their faces looked, what with being able to closely approximate expressions if the pony’s quizzical countenance was enough to judge by… Was she wearing false eyelashes? It was by this point that Marc realized he must’ve been staring at the pony this entire time. “Uh, sorry, what was it you said?” Marc asked, shaking himself from his analytical daze. “I was wondering if you were feeling quite well? You look rather blanched,” Rarity politely said. “I’m feeling a lot better now, thanks for patching me up.” “Well, I’m happy I could help,” Rarity said with a slight curtsy. “Rarity, would you mind telling me where I am?” “Why, you’re in Ponyville, the loveliest little town in all of Equestria!” Rarity flaunted. “Equestria. Right.” “And might I ask where you come from, Mr. Mark Specter?” “Just Marc is fine,” Marc said while deliberating how best to answer. He’s found himself in an unknown world filled with magical ponies with next to little other information other than other possible mythological creatures and children’s story tropes. This whole act of generosity could’ve been an elaborate ruse by Rarity, but if she had wanted to kill him she would’ve already done so, but instead she took him in and treated his wounds. Marc had no reason to doubt Rarity’s kindness at the moment, but he still wasn’t sure if he should give her the whole truth of his mission here, especially when he wasn’t sure about it himself. “As to where I’m from, I don’t quite remember,” Marc lied. He wasn’t sure how Rarity would react to hearing how he was an alien vigilante sent by a moon god to help this world’s moon god. He wasn’t even sure if their moon god was considered real to the populace. “Oh, how dreadful! You really have no recollection of how you got here?” Rarity worriedly asked. She bought the 'amnesia' card a little too easily. “Well, for the time being, I’ll offer you residence seeing as how you don’t have a job or any money. And the offer of remaking your clothing is still on the table,” Rarity added optimistically. "I can only assume the original reason you came here was to update your wardrobe." “That’s awfully generous of you, thank you,” Marc replied while looking down at himself at the mention of clothes. He was still wearing his underwear; why and how he didn’t care to know. “I’ll think about the clothes. For now, I’ll just use some spare cloth to cover up,” Marc said. He wasn’t sure about recreating his Moon Knight costume. He only continued to use it out of necessity ever since he gave up the title of Moon Knight because of its utility and the image it had amongst thugs. Marc figured nobody here knew who Moon Knight was, and since he had given up the mantle there would be no point in building up that reputation again. “Although, if you wanted to repay me, you could offer to do some modelling and measurements?” Rarity hopefully proposed with a glint of hope in her eye. “I suppose that’s fine. For now, though, do you know where I can learn about where I am?” As long as he was stuck here, Marc figured he should learn about his surroundings and how things worked in this new environment. “Of course, Mark, I can take you to the library where my friend, Twilight Sparkle lives. She can answer any questions you have and perhaps have a look at you to see about your memory problem. But first, why don’t we stop somewhere to eat? You haven’t had anything since yesterday far as I can tell, and you need food to help your wounds heal.” “That sounds fine. What did you have in mind?” “Well, there’s a restaurant downtown that serves lovely haywheat and petunia blinis and amaryllis quiches. I find that they go well with rose water and grass compote-“ “Uh, Rarity, I can’t eat flowers, and I'd rather not wait too long for a fancy meal,” Marc interrupted. “Oh. Umm… Would you prefer a hayburger?” Rarity asked. “No hay either.” “Hmm… Well, what can you eat?” Marc thought about his answer. He didn’t want to face indigestion with eating unsuitable plants, especially in a combat scenario, but he didn’t want to put Rarity off by mentioning how he can eat meat. “Oh! Can you eat baked goods? I’m fairly certain the only ‘flour’ used for them is of the baking variety,” Rarity said. “Pastries? Yeah, that should be fine.” “Then we should stop by Sugarcube Corner. It’s a lovely confectionary where one of my friends happens to work. She would love to meet you; she loves to meet everypony, or, er, ‘creature’ in your case. It’s on the way to the library, but we best get going since the sun will be setting soon.” Rarity and Marc set off for the bakery, but not before throwing together a white cloak out of some spare fabric. It didn’t take long at all thanks to the help of magic, which was another thing Marc had to account for. Rarity was clearly dissatisfied with making something so simple, but they didn’t have time for measurements or fitting, and Marc didn’t want to traipse around town half-naked covered in bandages. To Rarity’s credit, the cloak she created was very well made. It reminded Marc of the cape and cowl he used to don. Getting Rarity to make Marc the cloak was mostly because he was used to utilizing his clothing as a tool or even a weapon. After all, getting Rarity to make him a cloak was easier than convincing her to let him carry around a knife or scissors, and Marc had no qualms with fighting nude should the need arise. Besides, Marc doubted being topless would’ve changed how the locals perceived him. Most of them were naked anyway. He knew he would’ve been out of place regardless. Marc got plenty of weird or even spooked looks, but nobody was actively panicking yet, which Marc took as a sign that other creatures besides ponies did in fact reside here, though they likely weren’t common. Rarity didn’t seem to mind the stares. She almost seemed to be relishing the attention Marc drew with the way she sashayed at Marc’s side with her eyes close; she was even humming. As they walked, Marc took in the sights of this strange world that he still questioned the realness of while thinking about his supposed mission here. What kind of problems could a ruthless anti-hero possibly resolve in bright-pastel pony-land? There didn’t appear to be any looming crisis judging by how the ponies casually went about their business. The biggest disruptor to their quaint way of life was probably Marc himself. “So, you said your friend works at this bakery, Sugarcube Corner?” Marc said to Rarity. “Yes dear, she works under the tutelage of Mr. and Mrs. Cake, the proprietors of the establishment. She’ll love to meet you! You’ll probably be peppered with questions, and you can bet she’ll even throw you a welcome party; she does that for all newcomers into Ponyville,” Rarity cheerfully stated. “Ah, you can see we’re coming right up on Sugarcube Corner now.” Marc looked over to where Rarity was facing and was surprised to see it looked like a life-sized gingerbread house, complete with frosting that looked edible. As far as Marc knew, it very well could’ve been. Marc and Rarity made their way inside the little shop. The place was fairly quiet as it was the afternoon, though Marc could still feel the weight of the stares from every patron in the room. Though out of all the eyes he’s felt thus far, he felt one that didn’t give a sense of fear or uncertainty. Looking over at the counter, Marc immediately knew who it belonged to. “Hiya Rarity!” the pink pony yelled. “Good afternoon Pinkie Pie,” Rarity replied. “Oooooh, who’s your new friend?” “This is Mark Specter. You could say he showed up on my doorstep badly hurt and without his memory. I’m taking him over to Twilight to have him looked at and answer any questions he may have. Firstly though, I thought he could do with some food in his stomach seeing as he hasn’t eaten a thing since yesterday.” Pinkie Pie looked over at Marc and with a gasp lunged over the counter, causing Marc to take a cautious step back. She circled around him, oohing and aahing as she looked him over. Marc put up with her childish display until she tried looking underneath the cloak. She might’ve caught a glimpse at all the bandages adorning Marc’s body if her sudden silence were any indication. Before Marc knew it, Pinkie bounded back over the counter taking the same stance and dopey expression she had when he and Rarity walked in. “So, what can I get for you?” Pinkie asked, as though she hadn’t just been closely inspecting Marc a second ago. “I’ll have an order of crème puffs, and Mark, what will you have?” Rarity asked. “Just a muffin is fine,” Marc replied. “He’ll take two,” Rarity added. Marc didn’t bother arguing. “Mark, why don’t you go pick our seats while I pay.” As soon as Marc was far enough away, Rarity turned to Pinkie and said in hushed tones, “I’m surprised you contained yourself so well. Usually, you’re much more… excitable when meeting new ponies, especially when they’re not actually ponies.” “Heheh, what’re you talking about Rarity? I love to meet new ponies, especially the not-ponies!” Pinkie said, not bothering to contain her voice like Rarity was doing. “Then why didn’t you barrage Mark with questions about what he is or what kind of parties he likes?” Rarity asked. “Pfft. Rarity, you silly; I can’t ask somebody questions like that when they aren’t all here, much less throw a party for them!” Pinkie said. “Um, what do you mean?” Rarity asked with a confused look on her face. “Ooooooh, I shouldn’t say. Don’t you worry your pretty-purple mane though, I’ll be sure to throw an awesome fan-super-tabulous party when your friend finally gets here!” Pinkie exclaimed. There weren’t many seats in the little bakery, but it didn’t matter since it seemed like all the other ponies cleared out expecting trouble from the large, mysterious biped. Now that he was sitting down, Marc started taking in his surroundings. Just like the outside, nearly everything inside looked edible. Behind the counter and off to the side of the entranceway were display cases filled with all manner of confections and some of which that didn’t seem to belong in a bakery like candy canes and lollipops. Even outside wasn’t safe from the sugary bonanza, as every surface was topped with displays of sweets, some of which appeared free for the taking. Marc assumed the honor system was heavily regarded in this world. However, as Marc was looking at what was arranged behind the display cases, he felt another set of eyes on him. This one, however, radiated malevolence. Marc stirred, causing the feeling to vanish, and looked to the only place he could’ve felt it; a window. Just as Marc was about to stand up to investigate, however, Rarity arrived with their food. “I should have you know that I don’t eat sweets like this all the time,” Rarity said with a pout as she sat down and took a rather unladylike chomp out of a crème puff. “What’s wrong dear?” she said with her mouth full, followed by a gulp and a blush. “Excuse me, what’s the matter? Do you need to go to the colt’s room?” “No, it’s nothing,” Marc said, glaring at the window. “So, what were you and… Pinkie Pie, talking about?” Marc said, settling back into his seat. “Oh, um. No pony in particular. That you would know of anyways,” Rarity said nervously. “Hmm,” Marc simply went as he took a bite of his muffin. …The muffin was actually really good. As soon as they were done eating, they head out for the library, but not before they heard Pinkie Pie call out, “Bye! I can’t wait to meet your friend!” Meanwhile, the shadowy figure watching them, unnoticed by the thinning traffic of ponies, slinked back behind the little building.