Two figures stood on the front porch of a large farmhouse while snow gently fell from the skies, blanketing the harvested crops in a fine layer of powdery snow. The first figure, a rather tall human woman in a number of layers of clothing, rung the doorbell and wrapped her hands back inside her pockets. The second figure, a squat white-coated pony with a light blue mane clothed in a simple scarf, anxiously peered from side to side of the house.
“Are you sure they won’t mind?” the pony asked.
The human looked through the door’s windows impatiently and pressed the doorbell again. “I talked to Jack. He said everyone would be fine with it,” she replied.
“Well, I’m blaming you if everything goes wrong.”
“Oh shut up.”
The door opened up before them, revealing an averaged-sized, but well built man holding a cup of some drink the two at the door couldn’t determine. “Hey, Rachel,” he greeted with a smile.
“Hi, Jack,” she returned, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek. She gestured to the other one at the door. “I brought Snow Storm.”
“Nice to see you again,” Jack replied. He opened the door to let the two in, stepping aside to give them room. “Your scarf?”
“Oh, thank you,” said Snow Storm, and she unwrapped the large green scarf and gave it to Jack, who hung it in the front closet. She followed Rachel into the house and into a large hallway lined with photos of what she assumed were Jack’s family. Many of the pictures were very old, some she guessed to be taken over a hundred years ago. Finally, the two humans stopped at a large wooden door.
She could hear voices on the other side. She had a tingle of excitement in her belly. She really wanted to meet Jack’s family, but her stomach was doing backflips. She gulped it into temporary submission. Finally, the man pushed the door open. What greeted her was both extremely familiar and very alien. To say the least.
“You’re tree. It’s inside,” she muttered, eyes as wide as dinner plates. She scratched her chin with a forehoof. “You brought the tree inside.”
The entire room turned their heads at her voice.
“Oh, hello. Rachel’s friend.” Another awkward smile. “Maybe Jack told you about me?”
They kept staring, and she heard a stifled giggle behind her.
Oh... this is going to be fun.
* * * * *
“So, Jack’s mother, correct? Mrs. Beckett?”
“Yes. And just call me Gracia. Family friends are allowed to say my first name.”
“Oh, I’m just friends with Rachel, and-”
“I know she and Jack aren’t really married. They’re close and that’s good enough for me,” she explained with a warm smile on her face. “So, how exactly do you know Rachel? Jack just told me you were ‘a friend.’”
“We’re roommates,” Snow Storm answered. “I just moved here from Trottingham by myself a few months ago. I was looking for a place to stay, and Rachel was looking for someone to share the rent. I guess she invited me because I don’t exactly have a family to spend the holiday with.”
Gracia gave a small chuckle. “Oh, how sweet of Rachel. But no one in your family came over?”
“No. They’re not exactly happy with my decision. They, uh, don’t like humans very much.”
“Oh,” Gracia remarked with a frown. “I see. Well don’t worry about them.”
“I know,” Snow Storm acknowledged. “It just gets hard sometimes. I have to say, though, it’s getting hard to get used to it here even though I finished moving in a few months ago.”
“I know what you mean. Some things from your homeland just stick with you. When I first got her after leaving my home in España I was surprised to see how individualist everyone is here. Moving out so early, for instance. Kids go off on their own at eighteen. At home the parents would often house their children until they got married!” The woman paused and took a sip from her drink. “Maldito Británico. If the Spanish got the East Coast things would make more sense. Well, make sense at all I should say.”
Snow Storm nervously coughed into her hoof. “You know, I’ve noticed Rachel doesn’t really talk much about her family. I would have thought we would have visited them, but she made no mention of it.”
“Don’t mention them around her,” Gracia informed, her face immediately hardening. “Her father has been rather... hostile to her recently. She hasn’t even told Jack very much so I know even less. All I know is that it has something to do with her conversion, so I’m sure you can guess what the problem is.”
Snow Storm’s face contorted into a confused frown. “Conversion? But she’s still human.”
“Religious conversion, I meant. Her father didn’t like it, and with both of their up-front personalities, well... They’re not on ‘speaking terms’ now.”
“And her mother?”
“Cancer,” Gracia answered simply.
“Oh, I had no idea! If I had known-”
“No, don’t go there and don’t discuss it. If she wants she will bring it up.”
“But isn’t the best way to deal with something to talk about it with others? She can’t just bottle it up!”
“Listen,” Gracia said in a voice that made Snow Storm’s train of thought stop cold, “She will deal with it on her own time, when she’s ready. This isn’t Equestria. You can’t control nature, and you can’t force things. It will happen on its own.”
“Right. Sorry,” Snow Storm muttered under her breath. “You’re probably right.”
Gracia nodded. “Why don’t you go see the family? Don’t just stay all cooped up in this corner with me.”
“Well, I could use some air.”
“Well, the boys are outside now I think.”
“I’ll go visit them,” Snow Storm said, and got up from her seat. She began the walk towards the front door to get her scarf, and waved goodbye at the family’s matriarch.
* * * * *
It was refreshing in the cold. Her father, Hail Storm, was a pegasus, and worked in the weather factories near Trottingham. Specifically, the snow factories. Being a pegasus herself, she often visited where her father worked and learned to make many different types of clouds by hoof.
Taking in the sight of the peaceful layer of snow did a great deal of calming her down. Meeting new people made her nervous. The Beckett family’s farm was truly a majesty during the winter. This was her first time there, obviously, but she felt right at home now that she had some time to herself. Was this truly the result of random chance? If you were to ask the average Equestrian, you would be told that whichever pegasus did this was good at his or her job. But here, in the human world, this was simply the result of nature. She-
-CRACK-
With an almost comical squeal befitting that of a school-age filly, Snow Storm sprung several feet into the air as her pegasus instincts took over. Still hovering several feet above the ground, she gently touched down and thanked Celestia no one saw that.
Straightening her posture into a more dignified form than that of a four-year-old who wet herself, Snow Storm trotted down the side of the house to where she heard the sound and now, as she got closer, the voices of several men.
-CRACK-
“God dammit!” a voice yelled.
A second one laughed. “Shit, Jack, you’re the marine here! Why can’t you hit anything?”
“I didn’t use a shitty-ass SKS in Cambodia though. Why the hell would you get this Russian piece of crap?”
“Don’t talk trash about Russian weapons. They’re versatile and consistent.”
“Consistently shit,” Jack countered.
Snow Storm reached the corner of the house and poked her head around. Twenty feet away were Jack and another man standing in front of a bench. Curious, she moved closer. “Excuse me?”
The two turned to her voice. “Hey, Snow,” Jack greeted. He gestured to the man next to him. “This is my cousin, Stan.” He turned towards said cousin and gestured towards Snow Storm. “This is Snow Storm. Rachel’s roommate.”
“Hi,” she returned. “What are you two doing?”
“Just shooting our rifles,” Stan answered. “Want to watch?”
Snow Storm’s heart skipped a beat. “W-wait, guns? You said guns?”
Stan shrugged his shoulders. “Well, technically it’s a rifle. But yeah.”
In response, Snow Storm muttered an excuse about “leaving the oven on” and scurried back towards the house with her tail quite literally between her hind legs.
* * * * *
“So what’s this then?” Snow Storm asked the fifteen-year-old sitting at the computer desk. On the screen was a large menu with buttons such as ‘Resume’ ‘Options’ and ‘Quit Game’ written in a fancy-looking text. It only took up a small portion of the screen, but the rest was darkened and blurred, so she couldn’t really see what was there.
“It’s an old game I found on my grandpa’s computer,” the boy answered.
“Oh, I like games. What’s it called?”
He pressed the ‘Resume’ button on the menu and Snow Storm was greeted with the site of an entire screen of virtual corpses, a ground so covered in virtual blood it was red, and dozens of virtual soldiers marching towards their assured (and virtual) death without hesitation. “Dawn of War.”
I’m going to be sick.
With enough hesitation to make up an excuse about “getting a drink” she slowly moved back out of the room, with a hoof both covering her squeamish face and block any vomit that may have come out right then.
* * * * *
Snow Storm snuck through the somewhat crowded house, which was a remarkable feat considering she was the only pony there, and tried to find Rachel. A conversation with one sane person, or rather an outlet for the culture shock, would do a great deal to calm her down. She caught herself hyperventilating more than a few times as she meant with different parts of Jack’s extended family. It was too much to take in. She just needed a break.
She inched her way past the huge, decorated tree, which she still wondered why in Celestia’s name would be brought inside despite several explanations for the tradition, on the lookout for her friend.
A sharp whistle caught her ear. She pivoted her head towards the source of the noise, the television. A game of some sort was playing. Two groups of humans, dressed in different colors, were playing some sport that involved beating the snot out of each other. She sighed in annoyance.
* * * * *
There was a short knock at the door. Being the closest one, Snow Storm answered the door. Standing on the porch was a man who had less than he probably should have considering the freezing weather, a full beard, and a wide smile on his face.
“Hello!” she greeted. “You are?”
“Kevin, Rachel’s older brother,” he answered.
Oh, finally, thank Celestia. Someone related to Rachel can’t be that bad. “Oh, Rachel talks about how much she misses you all the time! I’m Snow Storm. Rachel invited me. So where have you been?” I may be able to have a pleasant experience this evening!
“I’m sorry, can’t tell you.” He reached next to the doorframe and produced a gu-rifle as long as his leg. Snow Storm’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Army deployments and all that.”
“Wh- oh, right, yes. Can’t have that,” she said hurriedly, turning around suddenly to distract herself from the weapon. “Um, food and everything is in the living room.”
“Thanks,” he acknowledged. “Oh, if you see Jack or his cousin, Stan, can you tell them I have my 16 with me?”
“Oh, of course.” Oh, are you bucking kidding me...
* * * * *
Finally! Snow Storm quickly walked towards Rachel, making sure not to attract any of Jack’s family. But before she could get her friend’s attention, Rachel reached to somewhere hidden by the corner of a nearby wall and slunk towards a vacant room with a sly grin on her lips and bottle of cheap beer in her free hand. Jack closed the door behind him as he was pulled through.
Do these people do anything besides drink or play violent games?
* * * * *
“Yes, I would much rather be poor and free,” the woman in front of her, Zoe, stated. “People got over the whole ‘slavery’ thing two hundred years ago.”
“Ponies aren’t slaves! Equestrian citizens have just as many rights as anyone here, if not more,” Snow Storm retorted.
“Rights with a capital ‘R’ or lowercase?”
Snow Storm rubbed her forehead in frustration. Princess Celestia, a tyrant? Really?
* * * * *
“Why would you lie to them about that?”
“Because it’s fun,” Sean, Jack’s brother, answered.
“But Santa Clause is not a real person,” she restated. “You are giving your children a false worldview because it’s ‘fun’?”
“One, I don’t have children yet. Two, yes.”
Snow Storm smacked her hoof into her muzzle.She wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bruise from how many times that happened tonight.
* * * * *
“Do we really need to leave already?” Snow Storm pleaded, giving her best ‘puppy eyes’ to Rachel.
“It’s two in the morning, I’m drunk off my ass, and you’ve been complaining the entire night,” Rachel said. “Yes.”
“But you’re drunk! How are you supposed to drive home?”
“Jack’s driving me,” came the answer Snow Storm saw coming. “Oh, by the way, you may want to sleep on the couch tonight. Thin walls and all.”
“What? W- Oh,” Snow Storm deadpanned. She gave an unamused glare at her friend, who was too busy licking her lips lustfully and staring at the temporary driver of her car to notice.
Celestia help me.