//------------------------------// // Pampatabang-Puso // Story: Langit at Lupa // by Comma Typer //------------------------------// Garlan woke at the first sight of window-filtered sun like a rooster. He got up and hovered to his limited wardrobe: an apron and a baseball cap. He barely used the apron, and the baseball cap made him stand out from the crowd—though being a griffon already branded him unique in a human city. He held the cap in his claw but put it back in the cabinet. “No, yeah. Who’d even—“ “Guess who’s here?!” Garlan faltered at the muffled voice from outside the door. He knew who owned that voice. He sped past an already-awake Ginger to the door and yanked it open. “It’s five to six in the morning. Not everyone here wakes up early on a Saturday—“ “Brother!” A shiny gray-white griffon shook his claw up and down and left and right and in circles too. “Why yes, Garlan, you... you don’t look a year older! You even have the same old grumpy face!” “You also have a grumpy face,” Garlan said flatly. “You’re just better at hiding it.” The younger brother laughed it off. “Everyone’s got their dark side, true, but I don’t let it get to me. It’d be bad if I got crabby on our reunion now, wouldn’t it?” Gary stepped aside and revealed new horrors in the hall for Garlan to grump at: cousins. “Here’s the whole crew! You remember them, don’t you? Gerry from school, Geronimo our most far-fetched relative, and Gladys who improved on Gilda’s scones!” It was filial chaos Garlan suffered through, shaking more claws and greeting more faces without being too grumpy; at least they weren’t loudmouths who rushed their words out like some ponies. Still, having four visitors would be hectic; it was the most Garlan ever had in this humble dwelling. Children chuckled as Ginger roused them up from bed. The chaos skyrocketed from there as cousins cooed over the eaglet-cubs and the pieces of human tech they held in their claws. The fledglings smiled and shouted at everything: other griffons and they were relatives? This day had just begun and it was already awesome! To top it all off, there’d be a feast for breakfast too: visitors always meant a special surprise from Ginger. Garlan watched the hot food cooling off on the table. Poor Ginger: no one was eating her cooking yet. There lay fruitcake, eggs and bacon, corned beef, and fried chicken beside big soda bottles. They got cold while everyone else talked to each other, including—and especially—Gary who had the largest and loudest beak of them all. Attention finally turned to the food after a few more talkative minutes, and everyone took a seat. Claws gripped spoons and forks, and stomachs rumbled with the first few bites. Gary stuffed his beak with bacon strips as he turned to his brother. “How’re you, Garlan? Because I think you’re doing well for yourself. Nice place you have here, no?” He pointed his fork around the room, gazing upon the polished floor and the flat clean walls. “Lacks actual nest stuff though, but this isn’t a birdhouse. Human style, yeah? Like the hotel me and my companions are sleeping in for the stay, eh?” Garlan nodded, crushing the desire to shut him up for now. “It’s indeed a human style. Beds here are sturdier too—some of them. Others feel as soft as down, but all of them are made on machines and assembly lines these days. It’s amazing, really.” Gary sat back and rested his head on the chair. While the other cousins talked with Ginger and the kids about life here and life there, Garlan knew his brother readied himself for personal sibling time: those moments when Gary would get real with him. “So how’s things going here? Work treating you well?” “Yes.” Garlan paused to eat a slice of fruitcake; the sugar calmed his nerves. “It’s good to be my own boss and profit from it. Who knew humans were suckers for fried mystery meat balls? We have… did Ginger tell you about the fishballs?” “Yeah, yeah! I didn’t even know you can turn fish into balls! And then squids into balls! It’s so surreal!” A hefty smile on Garlan: impressing his impressionable brother with the wonders of human progress. Gary scratched his beak in curiosity. “True… but, hey, remember when we went fishing with Pa? Catching fish in the river and you managed to get your break stuck in the scales—remember that?” It was loud enough for the others to hear. Distracting conversation stopped. In their place, polite snickers echoed across the table. Garlan narrowed his eyes down at his brother. “Hey, I thought this was about celebrating us. Teasing the breadwinner isn’t exactly a celebration.” Gary held up his claws in self-defense. “Hey, hey! It’s all in good fun! I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m very excited to be in this place too. It’s Earth, you see!” He spread his claws about, holding a naked fork gesturing at every appliance in the room while almost stabbing Gladys in the eye. “Humans managed to make all this and more without magic of any kind! They even fly without magic and wings! This is a sci-fi world come true! And who knew everyone’d treat us with respect? I looked it up: the national animal here is an eagle, so we’re the chosen ones.” He then swished his leonine tail up for Garlan to see. “Or at least the half-chosen ones.” Garlan rolled his eyes at his rambling brother and continued with his meal. Meanwhile, Gary regaled everyone with story after story about innocent childhood days with his older brother: an intimate if disjointed tale of two ragtag nestlings getting by just like every other nestling in dog-eat-dog Girffonstone. There was bragging about how they both got grumpy at each other, stole each other’s bits, and fought each other once in a while. That was until Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie came along, struck something in Gilda’s heart, and Gary saw the light—that maybe giving bits to others wasn’t so bad, after all. “Hey, didn’t you tell us that story like three times already?” asked Gerry. “Oh, come on! I owe those three my life! If it weren’t for Gilda and those ponies, what would’ve happened to me?” “You would’ve done something a little more sensible, perhaps?” Garlan cut in, eliciting dirty looks from his relatives. Gary shrugged with a smile. “Eh, maybe! But it’s not like you’re perfect, Garlie. I mean... hey, did I tell you guys about the time we messed up with roasting birdseed?...” Garlan kept on eating the plentiful good food before him. Noise was better than awkward silence, and Gary soon turned to other topics. Any mention of Griffonstone turned Garlan away: Food drives, small-time reconstruction efforts, collaborations with other creatures (even three or four humans somehow), bringing Gilda’s scones to a wider audience and marketing other griffon-made products to the rest of the world—it was all noise, and Garlan changed the station by focusing on the tasty delicious crispy bacon for his beak to rip into shreds. Breakfast took a long time, but it wound down, leaving everyone to just talk over ice-cold glasses of fizzy drinks. As he sipped his soda, Garlan studied his relatives’ faces. The cousins chatted with Ginger about day-to-day living in this city: “…supermarkets and malls are pretty big. I thought you needed some special clearance to get there like in the terminals, but not really. There were also these elevators going around... but, well, I flew from floor to floor instead. Saves more time.” By Gary’s side, Genaro and Gwen sat oversized on his lap, laughing at his jokes and calling him Uncle Gary. Their uncle downed the last of his soda. With one sweeping look at the others by a swept-clean table, “Alright, guys! Hope you’ve got your bags and cameras ready! We’ve got some sightseeing to do!” Ginger had warned Garlan about the long day they’d have pinballing from place to place. It was better than being trapped in one room with him. The kids flapped their wings in excitement over the trip, so that was a good start. Garlan hoped it was a positive sign that nothing would go wrong. Public transportation was the first mistake. Instead of flying like real griffons, Gary opted for land vehicles, jeepneys in particular. Garlan did not mind the jeepneys themselves: a stuffed and sweaty four-wheel can of human and griffon sardines didn’t sound bad if it meant going around without tiring his wings. However, jeepneys were slower than a flying griffon even without the traffic, and a near-Christmas weekend ensured that traffic would be heavy today. Preemptive parties, celebrations, and shopping would reign in people’s travels. Riffs of holiday melodies, hymns, and pop songs sped by them under Christmas-colored bunting, star-shaped parols, and ads for holiday sales. In the bumpy ride, Ginger, who’d tried a jeepney once and decided flying would forever be superior, eyed her other cousins who were jittery with thrill: they had never ridden a land vehicle before, not even in Equestria. Gary took it to the next level by snapping pictures with a camera in a claw stretched out of the window, putting his device in the danger zone where an oncoming truck might kill it. Gary then pointed out the little shops and the big markets on the sides. On one claw, sari-sari stores sold everything in tiny pieces and sachets from sodas to cigarettes, shampoos, and snacks. On the other claw, public markets bore fruits, vegetables, and a wide variety of meats especially fish and other seafood. No matter the place, buyers trudged on the sidewalks and pathways, exchanging money every second with sellers weighing items and doling out change. Geronimo raised his head at yet another market. “It’s all so packed! Is it like this every day?” “Just about,” Garlan replied. Now everygriff’s attention was on him, which was good. If he had to accommodate Gary and his motley crew, the least he could do was to have them at the mercy of Garlan the Tour Guide. The lines of stores and apartments with signs and posters and billboards everywhere with the occasional skyscraper—not to mention the Christmas decorations high and low—held the visitors’ attention. However, Gary knew nothing and, with wide eyes, observed everything. “Those plastic things… are they the credit cards I’ve heard a lot about?” It got Garlan to groan and wonder if the humans didn’t put info about these things in their brochures. “Yes, those are credit cards. I don’t fully understand it myself, but credit cards... you loan money with it from a bank through those ATM machines. It’s like free money anytime and anywhere, but you must pay it back after a while or else the interest goes up… or worse.” “Huh. That’s pretty cool! Hey, we could set a thing like that up in our place, I think. Those ATM things, yeah?” “...why? Equestria’s the reason why Griffonstone isn’t bankrupt yet. You want griffons to borrow even more money?” “Then we ask them for more ATM’s. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” Garlan rolled his eyes at the lack of understanding on display. Turning right into a big boulevard, more things emerged for Gary to lock onto other than money dispensers. They only raised his curiosity and his voice; they didn’t keep his beak shut like Garlan hoped they would. “Look at all these vehicles!” Gary shot his head out the window and received honks from nearby drivers not expecting an eagle face to pop out of a jeep. “I’ve seen them before, but I now see that there’s so many different types and flavors of them. They even have super bicycles!” “Those are motorcycles.” “And they’re—blech!” He yanked his head back in and coughed into his claw, waving it off and shooing nearby human passengers away. “Oh, boy... now that really stinks!” Garlan didn’t bother seeing his face. “Welcome to the world of fossil fuels, and I thought ponies hit it big with the little oil they had. Humans took the whole dead creature industry to a whole new level.” “D-dead creature, y-yeah.” He coughed one more time, scaring the teenager across from him before the human took refuge in his phone. “Okay… well, by the way, that reminds me: Sushi’s a big thing here, right? It’s an Asian country, so—” “That’s Japan.” The constant looks Garlan got from the human passengers tested his patience. “Japan’s the one with sushi. There are Japanese restaurants here though.” “Yeah.” Gary wrapped a claw around Garlan, unaware of his brother recoiling away. “I thought about sushi because one of them came over last month and he made us some sushi. I know it’s a hippogriff thing back in Equus, but wow, it was delicious and—” Garlan tuned out for the rest of the ride to listen in on his cousins’ conversations. They got out of the jeep and flew about the city. The flock of huge cat-birds took many locals off guard. Fast drawers got their phones out and took pictures of the griffon surprise, some of them selfies. Their tour began with checking out the “very big and advanced schools only the big pony cities got” as Gary said: colleges, some of which were open and more than welcome to entertain inter-dimensional visitors. Students greeted the griffons and had small talk with them while Gary shook their hands without going full strength lest he be arrested for breaking people’s body parts. A polytechnical sort of university even offered on-the-job training trips to cities in Equestria’s world, but Gary grilled the students so much that security told him to back off. The look on the guard’s face told Garlan the patrolman had experienced his share of over-enthusiastic Equestrians. After the college trip came more general flying and pointing out of interesting buildings. “And over there is a church.” “Did you try one of them out?” Gladys asked, looking down at the cross on its structure. “I heard human churches have lots of versions.” Garlan shrugged. “It’s a good place to be in once in a while. I mean, do not covet? Do not steal? The meek inheriting the Earth? I’m sure that’s pretty relevant.” Gary pointed both claws at him. “Gotcha! Does that mean we should invite motivational speakers to our fair nation?” He slapped himself on the forehead. “They’re priests. Or pastors.” “Well, I called them motivational speakers because the ones we got taught ethics and things like that and the—not coveting thing too, let’s add that… I think they’re called missionaries, right? Most of us… uh, well, gave them the cold shoulder because they didn’t like not coveting, but a few stayed around and helped out... like two or three.” The flight went onward to see a cockfight. Ginger kept the kids busy with some shopping so the rest could pay the fee and see a blood battle between two fighting roosters. No complaints from Gary about how sweaty or stuffed the little arena was; he bought peanuts and soda while betting money on the red-ribboned chicken to win. Garlan shook his head and laughed on the inside: Gary was too blind to see the griffish similarities in those brawling bird-brains. The rest of the trip was smooth sailing for Gary and his troupe at the expense of Garlan’s ears and peace of mind. They forayed into a public market for the buzz of human merchant interaction while comparing human produce with their Equestrian counterparts. They talked of bars, but Garlan shot that down: “Went there once, and they’re nothing like pony taverns. At least rowdy ponies behave once in a while.” After that, the concept of moving pictures as entertainment caused a hoopla in Gary’s brain—“Like, wow, big coincidence that there was one of those cartoon thingies with us and the ponies! Why didn’t they call it My Little Griffon, anyway?” “Because we’re not little and it’d be ridiculous for human kids to brush our feathers.” Garlan pleased himself with the laughter he wrought. “It’s biased towards the ponies, but ponies are too cute for their own good anyway. No wonder their toys make a killing here.” “Do Genaro and Gwen watch it?” asked Geronimo. Garlan shrugged again. “Some of the time, but it’s weird. Inter-dimensional scientific mumbo-jumbo, big stupid coincidences… I’m glad the kids don’t know any of it.” For lunch, they decided to move upscale: Ortigas Center, a land of grand business, high-rises, malls galore for hundreds and hundreds of meters with dozens of fields’ worth of parking lots at the helm. Droves of people walked in and out of these massive edifices, and it got the children flapping their wingsat the hustle and bustle. There it was: a mall that resembled one enormous shoe box, cars coming and going under the rectangular behemoth. Stretching from one side to another, across two blocks, it almost made Gladys faint at “how fat that thing is! Is that even a building?” Once they entered through the glass doors, cool conditioned air blasted them and banished the tropical heat away. A grand atrium lay inside, introducing visitors to too much fashion, food, and furniture while pop music played over speakers. The little griffons beat their wings as fast as insects, hankering to go everywhere, but Ginger restrained them with a click of her tongue. Gary whirled himself around, giving himself a well-earned headache in the process. “Wow! This place is... I’ve never been to a mall, not even in Equestria, but this is… wow!” Garlan flew to his side and set a claw on his brother's shoulder. “These humans, Gary: they’re something, aren’t they? Built all this from the ground up and everything else. You must’ve seen buildings like this on the way to our place, right?” Despite the dizziness, Gary shook his head up and down like a happy dog. “Yeah! I remember flying around the skyscrapers!” “Yeah, we said hi to some board of directors or something in one of those!” Gerry broke in. “They closed the windows right away, but it was nice to see them so high up.” “Heh, that’s nothing compared to other cities around the world,” Garlan said. “It’s a good life here, but there are cities more advanced than this: Tokyo, London, Paris, New York... it’s all there and more, but this city’s got its own tricks.” Garlan led them through the rest of the mall and its boggling range of shops: clothes, books, comics, galleries, printing services—the electronics section stunned the Griffonstoneians with things they’d never seen with their own eyes, alarming phone salespeople who hoped their touchy customers wouldn’t scratch the screens with their razor-edged claws. To his relief, Garlan’s family enjoyed the trip too, taking up his role as tour guide to explain more Earth and human things to his cousins and brother. That didn’t stop his guests from irritating store owners by never buying a single item. Still stingy like any old griffon, hm? They flew out of the mall for lunch outside, soaring above slow human feet and traffic past the plethora of skyscrapers: artistic statues where humans lived and worked in, an idea still fresh and novel to Gary and his kind despite the stink of car smog ruining the vista. A local fast food chain that was not McDonald’s was their destination, much to Gary’s initial disappointment. The line was quick, and Garlan ordered on everyone’s behalf because he knew the ropes and, secretly, because he didn’t want Gary to embarrass himself any further. A minute later, they got their burgers, fries, and soda thanks to the smiling cashier. They huddled at a table to the cursory glances of several humans. A family of ponies waved at them from the corner, enjoying themselves with sundae cups. Genaro and Gwen waved back, and for a few seconds, foals and fledglings united from afar. “I gotta say,” Gary said as he chomped off another bite of the burger, “for food made on the cheap, this is pretty tasty! I already knew you could fast-cook hay, but fast-cook beef? Garlie, is every fast food place like this?” It took great patience to accommodate Gary’s exhausting curiosity. “Not every one of them, but meatburgers are everywhere these days.” As if ignoring the answer, Gary drizzled ketchup and mayonnaise on the patty and crammed his beak messy with too many condiments and too much good meat. He wiped everything off with tissue, but that was a mess too and Garlan turned away for a moment. A few minutes later, Gary belched after downing three burgers and a couple packs of french fries. “Yeah, I see why you love it here,” he began, tapping his belly. “I mean, look at everything in this place!” His outstretched claw pointed past the window walls and onto a busy car-jammed avenue, humans walking with purpose along with the occasional pony, hippogriff, or other Equestrian here on business or pleasure. Signs of technological progress in the form of great buildings rose to the top, garnished with an airplane leaving trails in the sky. With trees on the avenue’s islands and the sidewalks, the image was complete: a snapshot of the future, today. So thought Gary as he opened his beak and eyes in wonder. “Yes, this looks like a very nice place to be in. No wonder griffons went around Earth for a while.” Garlan let his brother be drowned out by laughter from a joke his son made—the cousins, his mother, and his sister laughed. Gary took a break from the conversation to join in the laughter. When Gary kept looking at him for an answer, Garlan gave in. “That’s true. My living conditions aren’t luxurious, but life here has been the best.” “Yes, exactly! And… alright, this is a city full of ideas and potential, and this isn’t the only one, right?” “Many cities out there are cleaner, faster, and bigger than Manila.” Garlan leaned back on his chair; he almost propped a paw on the table before realizing he was in public. “Some places move too fast for me, New York especially. I’ve seen videos of people walking there like they’re always in a marathon.” Gary nodded with an absent mind. He spotted colorful star-shaped decorations hanging off the streetlights. “And Christmas too... or their version of Hearth’s Warming. They’re already talking about happy times, times to slow down and be thankful—that’s what’s on the radio thingies.” Scenes from last year’s Christmas with the family—these scenes rushed into the elder brother’s mind: sweets for the kids, a peck on the cheek for Ginger under the mistletoe, and flying around as a family to the tune of holiday melodies. “It’s a lot like Hearth’s Warming but it’s still a lot different. Family reunions, gift-giving, and getting thoughtful about souls and church. Giving gifts with the root cause of a good afterlife and salvation—not because ponies banded together. Something like that. Heh. Giving gifts, generosity, ‘giving is better than receiving—’” Gary jerked a digit in the vague direction of home. “Just like Hearth’s Warming! They’re thankful because they didn’t die in the blizzards, and they’re still here because of that gift of friendship fire. To think our winter holidays have a lot in common: the Snilldar Fest with communal destruction, the hippogriffs’ Three Days of Freedom thing with celebrations in different locations, the dragons’ Feast of Fire with the gem prize, and then we have yours truly…“ Garlan took another bite of the burger. His beak was already full. He knew where this was going. “‘Yours truly...?’” “Heh-heh. To be honest, I’ve no idea how or why we got the Blue Moon Festival in the first place. There are scraps from the history books in the broken library. Now that I think about it though, that may be why the past Festivals were just… dead. We forgot the why, so why bother? Not even Grampa Gruff remembers why.” He flopped a claw onto the table. “Sad, isn’t it? Everyone else remembers their whys, even the dragons, thanks to oral tradition! We just… don’t have it.” Flatly, “Sad indeed.” Garlan took another bite of his burger, occupying his beak to signal his unavailability to Gary. For a while, it worked, leaving a forlorn Gary to ponder on the tragedy of the holiday. He then tapped Garlan on the shoulder, sounding eager again: “Hey, didn’t they bomb this place back in the second worldwide war? And now it’s like this from all that destruction?” The change in topic was welcome. “They threw worse bombs on Japan at the end of that war, but look at it now.” The ludicrous amount of progress prompted a snicker. “What’re you suggesting?” That the United Nations or something bomb Griffonstone so they’d become the new center of Equus? If it fails, at least there won’t be much to miss. Gary slammed a claw into the air. “Tenacity!” It made his brother rub his temples and groan. “If places here can get back from bombs and thrive just a few decades later...” Garlan sighed, sucking on his straw for soda to numb his ears while enduring a litany of his brother’s ambitious fantasies. His family couldn’t eat any faster to save him from this torture. Five minutes later, Gary had to use the restroom. The suffering was over, lunch was finished, and Garlan would’ve left the place without his brother were it not for basic decency. He just had to endure the rest of the day with him and he’d be free. He ordered a big cup of soda for take-out. Something to distract himself with, something with which to numb out Gary’s words some more.