The Hostess

by Gaekub

Chapter 3

A strange box sits at the edge of the Everfree Forest. Sitting at the end of a large divot in an unfarmed field, one might imagine it fell from the sky. That is a clearly ridiculous thought. However, as chance would have it, it is also true.

The fires that used to conceal the details of its form have been extinguished by the forest itself, and now it can be examined more closely. Any pony that did so would not gain much from the process however, as the box seems to be constantly
changing shape. Now a house, now a stable, now a sort of freestanding closet. It seems to waver on the form of an outhouse for a few seconds, before transforming into a giant wooden horse, and then briefly into a blue box with the word “Police” on the top. As that was clearly unsuitable, it transformed into a tree, then into a bush, and then back into a tree. That appeared to be it, as the short but thick tree remained a short but thick tree.

Of course, anypony watching would probably have been too distracted by the screams to notice the shape changing. In all of its forms, a panel hung open off the side of the thing, and it was from that panel the screams emerged. Anypony brave enough to step inside would have found themselves in an unreasonably large room with two ponies in it.

One, a brown stallion, crouched on the iron grate that served as a floor. His hooves were over his ears, protecting the delicate membranes from the horrific sounds that filled the room.

The other, an altogether pink pony, writhed on a padded chair. Her face was wracked with pain, and it was from her the screams originated. Two metal discs were attached to sides of her head, somehow remaining attached despite her seizing.

The final scream died on her lips as she collapsed, unconscious. An incredibly inappropriate “Ding!” sprung from the machine. It would have been funny in any other circumstance, but as it was, the happy sound merely highlighted the sounds of pain that preceded it.

The stallion, John Smith, heaved himself off the floor. His legs were shaking, and his stomach was telling him that now would be a wonderful time to be sick. He held back the impulse and staggered over to the chair.

Doing his best not to look at the pink pony he knew as the Hostess, he lowered his muzzle to a slot in the side of the chair. Gripping the golden watch that had been inserted there with his teeth, he attempted to pull it out. It refused to budge. Resetting his teeth, and bracing his front hooves against the chair, he pulled harder. He felt it wiggle, but it didn’t release. He let out a lung-full of air, took a deep breath, and then pulled as hard as he could.

This time, the watch only held for a second and then slipped out of the slot with almost no resistance. John flew backwards, landing hard on his backside. The watch clattered on the ground. His eyes closed as he fought the sudden pain in his tail. They were only closed for a second at most, but when he opened them, the pink pony was out of the chair, and her face was mere inches from his.

“Hi! I’m Pinky Pie! What’s your name!?” She asked.

“AAAHHHHH!!” John replied.

“Your name is aaahhhh? That’s a funny name! I like it though! It’s easy to remember!”

“AAAAHHHH!” John agreed.

“AAAAAHHHHHH!!” The pink pony yelled back, and then giggled.

“How… how’d you get out of the chair?” John asked, taking deep breaths. Today had been a stressful day.

“Like this silly!” Pinkie Pie bounced onto the chair, leaping off all four legs at once. Once she had landed on top of it, she stepped down slowly, with exaggerated caution. “And that’s how you get out of a chair!” She declared, proudly.

John stared at her. The Hostess hadn’t mentioned the possibility of brain damage.

“Do you live around here? I’m leaving my home on the rock farm, so I need a place to live! Hopefully somewhere with a lot of other ponies who I can be friends with! But I won’t know anypony anywhere else.” She looked crestfallen for less than half a second, and then perked up again. “Oh, I know! I’ll just throw a party, and I’ll invite absolutely EVERYPONY, and then we’ll all be friends! Isn’t that a great idea!?”

John stared at the hyperactive mare who hadn’t stood still for a single second of her speech. After a few moments, his brain caught up with his ears, and he realized an answer was expected.

“Err… yes?”

“Great! Well, let’s go! I can’t wait to meet everypony in…”

“Ponyville”

“PONYVILLE!? That’s the bestest name for a town ever! The bestest superest FANTASTICIST name! The…” The rest of her description was lost as she bounced out the door.

John grabbed the watch in his mouth, took one last look around the room, and then stepped outside. He noted that the box had become a tree with no particular surprise, and closed the panel. The outline of the entrance blended in with the pattern of the bark, leaving no indication it was there.

Looking around, he noticed that Pinky Pie was already almost out of sight. Evidently that strange hopping gait was faster than it looked. He galloped after her, catching up only with considerable effort.

The two ponies headed towards Ponyville.

The Hostess waited patiently for the laughter to end. There wouldn’t be much point getting John and Twilight to shut up, as they weren’t the only source of laughter. It echoed in the confines of her own head as well, sprouting from the section of her brain where Pinky had declared squatters rights.

Eventually, the two ponies became tired of their own joke, and managed to put on faces that approached serious. Pinky Pie followed suit.

“So what are we doing now Hostess?” Asked Twilight, still not sure if she believed that this wasn’t Pinkie Pie just playing a game.

The Hostess, deigning to act as if she hadn’t just been laughed at for several minutes, turned away from the boutique. “Well, it seems to me that the best course of action would be to go to the site of the disappearance and see if anything can be discovered. Now, where would this LOOK!” She interrupted herself as one hoof shot up into the sky.

Both John and Twilight bounded forwards to see what was wrong, but the sky was empty except for a weather pony adjusting some clouds.

“…What are you looking at, Hostess?” asked John, after a few awkward seconds of silence.

“That pony! It’s flying!” She insisted, eyes wide.

John and Twilight looked at her, and then at each other, and then back at her.

“…That’s not unusual, is it?” She asked, embarrassed.

They both shook their heads. “They’re called Pegasus ponies, or just pegasi. There’s not a lot in Ponyville, but they’re not rare either” Twilight said.

Both John and Twilight started walking again, but the Hostess sat down in the dirt. “No. Change of plans.” She ordered. “We are not taking one more step until I learn the basic facts of pony biology.”

Both John and Twilight paused, blank looks on her faces. After a few seconds, a grin crept on to John’s face. “Well, when a stallion and a mare love each other very much…”

The Hostess kicked him in the shin. “That is not what I meant, and you know it. Miss Sparkle, perhaps you could provide me with a brief lesson, as apparently John cannot.” A thought crossed her mind “By the way, I’m assuming you are a female and John is a male. Please correct me if that’s not so, or if there more than two genders.”

Twilight had been about to launch into a lecture on pony biology she had prepared for her children (Twilight believed in preparedness, at least when it came to lectures), but paused. “Yes, we are, but… Wait, is that… are there some ponies with… Or…” her words failed, and she stared at the Hostess, question unasked.

“You’d be surprised” the pink pony said with a grin “But that’s not entirely relevant at the moment. Ponies, please.”

“Uh… yes. Alright.” Twilight cleared her throat, and began to speak in a clear, loud voice. She’d been taught how to project at a young age by the princess. At this point in her life, she could give a speech clearly, precisely, confidently, and from half a mile away. In fact, it was a little painful sitting as close as the Hostess was.

“There are three types of ‘regular’ ponies, pegasus ponies (or pegasi), unicorn ponies (or unicorns), and earth ponies. Pegasus ponies can fly and walk on clouds, and are recognizable by the wings on their backs. Unicorns can perform telekinesis, as well as some minor spells related to their talents. A unicorn can be recognized by the horn on its head. The horn is used to channel magic. Earth ponies lack both horns and wings, but have a deep connection to the earth. They are stronger and more durable, and can grow plants with much more ease.”

“Okay, so these horns-“ The Hostess attempted to interrupt, but was steamrolled by the incredible inertia of Twilights speech.

“Now, if you’ll look at my flank, you’ll see my cutie mark. A cutie mark is an image or icon that a pony gains on their flank when he or she learns his or her special talent. The mark will represent the talent in some way. As you can see, mine is a star, representing my talent at magic. But it is important for you to know that no matter what your cutie mark is, I will love you forev-“ She managed to stop herself. Blushing, she added “Uh… nevermind that last part.”

The Hostess seemed too deep in thought to even notice the misstep, and John had stopped paying attention somewhere near the beginning. Twilight mentally sighed with relief.

The Hostess got up, and took off at a brisk pace. “I have two questions, but I’ll ask as we walk. So, my special talent is… balloons?”

“Party planning. At least, that was Pinkie Pie’s, I don’t know about yours.” Twilight replied, trotting to keep up. John followed close behind the two mares, letting them talk.

“No that would probably be mine as well. There’s a reason I’m called the Hostess, dear. Second question, what is your horn made of?”

“Bone, actually. It’s attached directly to the skull.” Twilight answered instantly. This was the sort of thing she always wished her friends took interest in.

“I see. Anything in particular about this bone? Something different than most of your bones, or perhaps different than the bones of other ponies?”

Twilight was flabbergasted. How could she know? “Yes, actually. The skull and horn of a unicorn have a much higher iron composition then the rest of the skeleton. How did you know?”

“Your magic is the simple manipulation of ambient energy to produce desired effects. The iron lets your bones conduct it. Skull gathers it, brain directs it, and horn focuses it. Actually very simple.” She smiled at Twilight “Not many species learn how to do it biologically though, so good for you there.”

Twilight stopped walking, and John walked into her flank. She didn’t even notice, and she immediately galloped back up to the Hostess.

John started spitting bits of her tail out.

“Did you just explain magic!?” the unicorn demanded.

“Probably. But it’s just an educated guess, so don’t put too much weight on it.” The Hostess suddenly stopped, and John walked into her flank.

“For the love of-“ John muttered, and began to scrape the new crop of hair from his tongue.

“It occurs to me that I really shouldn’t be leading the way, as I don’t actually know where we’re going. I was just walking in the direction John seemed to indicate.” The Hostess pointed out.

Twilight began to speak, and then paused “I don’t know either. You two just kept talking about the site of a disappearance. Who’s missing?”

Both mares slowly turned to look at John.

The stallion sat in the middle of the road, tongue lolling out. Decorating his tongue was a variety of purple and pink hairs, as well as good deal of mud from his hooves. At the moment he was attempting to use the side of his cleaner hoof to scrape the dirty, stringy mess out of his mouth. He felt their gaze on him and froze, meeting their eyes.

All three ponies stared at each other for a few seconds.

“Miss Sparkle?” The Hostess asked quietly “Could you perhaps give John a hand?”

Twilight’s horn lit up, and a telekinetic force scraped John’s tongue clean. It felt strange, like an extremely unpleasant kiss.

He spat the remnants out, and then stood back up. Scowling, he said “Big Macintosh is missing, so we’re going to Sweet Apple Acres. And I’ll lead the way, if that’s all right with everyone.”

He stalked ahead, and the two mares followed.

As they walked among the apple trees that surrounded the farmhouse, the Hostess felt the familiar rush of Pinkie Pie’s memories leaking through.

“Applejack” she said out loud involuntarily “Orange cowpony with a blond mane. Farms apples. Honest. Close friend. Wears a Stetson. Stetsons are cool. Little sister: Applebloom. Filly without a cutie mark. Grandmother: Granny Smith. Big brother: Big Macintosh. Largest stallion in Ponyville.”

The Hostess managed to cut off the stream of information before the final sentence. Pinkie Pie evidently had some less-than-innocent thoughts about Applejack’s brother.

Twilight glanced at her. “Pinkie Pie’s memories?”

The Hostess nodded.

“Have you remembered anything about me?” Twilight asked, her voice hopeful.

“No.” The Hostess bluntly replied.

“Oh.”

A few more moments of quiet passed. John was doing his best not to get involved in the mares conversation. He knew this had to be tough for Twilight, and he didn’t want to get in the middle of it and make things worse.

“So… John said you’re a Time Lord. What’s a Time Lord?” Twilight asked, choosing from the multitude of questions that still hadn’t been answered.

“I’m not a Time Lord. Not anymore. I’m a… “ the Hostess considered her options “Time Mare.” She didn’t entirely know why she said that. She just knew that she’d walked away from this whole experience a little too changed to call herself a Time Lord.

The interruption of the regeneration process must have changed her permanently. She had checked herself discreetly while sitting in Rarities, and she didn’t seem to have the distinctive four-fold heartbeat of a Time Lord anymore. The beat had sounded… well, it was silly, but it had sounded like a polka.

She was thankfully stopped from contemplating what that implied by Twilight's restatement.

“Alright then, what’s a Time Mare?”

“It’s like a Time Lord, but female, and equine.” The Hostess replied.

“What’s a Time Lord then?” Twilight asked, getting annoyed.

“It’s like a Time Mare, but male and humano- I mean, monkey-shaped. Do try and keep up.” She quipped back, giving a cheeky grin.

Twilights eyes narrowed. “Hostess-“

“Shut up, both of you” John interrupted “We’re almost at the farmhouse, and Applejack’s got enough to worry about without knowing about the Hostess.” He pointed to the Hostess “You’re going by Pinkie Pie as long as we’re here. No protests.”

As if on cue, Applejack trotted out of a grove of apple trees, pulling a cart laden with apples. “Well hey there Twi. Hey Pinkie. And is that John with ya? Shoot, I didn’t know y’all knew each other.”

John took a step towards her before speaking “Oh, well, Pinkie and I have been friends for years, but I actually just met Twilight today.”

Applejack looked confused. “And y’all just decided to hang out at my farm? Oh, Twi, Pinkie, I don’t suppose either o’ ya has seen Big Mac around?”

Twilight shook her head. ‘Pinkie’ just pouted. She didn’t like being given orders.

“Actually, that’s why we’re here. We just thought we’d take a look around for him.” John replied.

“Well he ain’t on the farm, I can tell ya that.” Applejack replied, her eyes narrowing.

“Right, right, I just meant… you know, look for clues.” He gave what he hoped was a convincing grin and hoped for some support from Twilight or the Hostess.

Just as he was sure Applejack had seen through his lie which wasn’t really a lie, he got some.

Twilight spoke up “Well, turns out both John and I are interested in forensics. You know, crime scenes and such. So we just thought we’d come down here and see if we could help.”

“And Pinkie’s interested in these ‘Frensiks’ too?” Applejack asked, sensing something was fishy.

“Oh, well, Pinkie Pie.” Twilight responded. That seemed to be the end of that sentence. What’s more, it seemed to mollify Applejack.

“Well, alright I suppose. He was just headin’ out to the barn when he vanished, so I’d start there. Not that I know anything about frensiks.” Applejack began dragging the apples back to the house. “I’ll see y’all later.”

“Bye Applejack!” John shouted after her.

Twilight trotted up next to John. “So… how exactly do you and Applejack know each other?”

He scowled at her. “We’re just friends.”

“What? I just asked how you met. I didn’t ask if you were anything other than friends.” She said in mock surprise. “Why would you assume that? Something on your mind?” A small grin flitted across her face.

John realized he’d been tricked and trotted off to the barn with an annoyed snort.

The Hostess, who’d been mulling the conversation over, spoke up “I’m beginning to get the feeling that Pinkie Pie was a little odd.”

“A little?” Twilight laughed “No. She wasn’t a little odd. She was completely odd. Honestly, her being a different species explains a lot.” She trotted after John.

The Hostess followed. She seemed to be following an awful lot lately, and she didn’t like it.

When Twilight came into the barn, John had his head stuck into a haystack. She walked up behind and nudged his side with one of her hooves. His head emerged from the pile, a bird’s nest of straw sitting on top.

John shook his head clean, spat out a few stray stalks, and announced “I have no idea what I’m looking for.”

“Well that’s why I’m here” the Hostess replied as she walked through the door.

“What are we looking for Hostess?” Twilight asked.

“No idea. But unlike you, I will know it when I see it.” The Hostess replied as she wormed her way between a heavy wooden platform and the wall it leaned against.

Twilight and John both slumped. They had come all the way out here, and now they didn’t even know what they were looking for.

“I know what we’re looking for now!” shouted the bright pink rump that was all that remained of the Hostess. “We are looking… for something… like…”

Twilight and John approached the voice, and then jumped back as the heavy platform fell to the ground with a large wham.

“THIS!” finished the Hostess, brandishing a white piece of cloth (presumably produced from one of her pockets) with green gunk spread on it.

“…What is it?” Twilight asked.

“This, my dear Miss Sparkle, is gunk.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes, I can see that. What is it precisely?”

“Ah, precisely. You should have said.” The Hostess tapped her muzzle with her other hoof. “It is precisely green.”

John let out a snort of laughter as Twilight growled. “Hostess…” she began, thread evident in her tone.

“Honestly, I don’t know. But it didn’t come from a pony, did it? Nothing you make that looks like this?”

Both ponies shook their heads.

“Then it must be from my pursuers. I shall examine it tonight. Now, I’m not entirely clear on the level of your technology. I don’t suppose you have a genome sequencer kicking around?”

Twilight's face wrinkled in confusion “What’s a genome sequencer?”

“Oh dear. Well, how about a gas spectrometer?”

“A gas what?” John asked.

“Electricity?”

“Oh! Yes we have that!” Twilight said, excited.

“Wonderful! That will be a great help!”

“I saw a demonstration of it in Canterlot… four years ago? It made a cats hair stand up on end.”

The Hostess hit herself on the forehead with a hoof. “So not available in Ponyville, then.”

“No.” John replied. Twilight looked disappointed that that wasn’t any help.

“Well it’s been a while since I had to improvise. I suppose it could be fun.” The Hostess said, without much conviction.

The sun was going down as they stepped out of the barn. It had been a long day, and Twilight yawned at the sight of the sunset. Halfway through, her jaw froze. “Oh no. Spike.”

“Spiked what?” The Hostess asked, already thinking about how she was going to make a genome sequencer out of common household ingredients.

“No! My dragon Spike! He doesn’t know where I am! Oh, he must be so worried!” She bolted off galloping at full speed. “Come get me when you’ve sequenced that or whatever!”

“Yes, yes” the Hostess mumbled absently. Her head snapped upwards. “Hold on, did she just say-“

“Dragon, yes. I’m sure you’ll see him tomorrow. C’mon, I’ll take you back to Sugarcube Corner.”

“What in the hell is Sugarcube-“ a sequence of images flashed in front of her eyes. Two middle aged ponies, hiring her. Baking for them, living in the attic. The building looked like a giant cupcake. “Oh it’s where I live. And work.”

John gave her a look.

“Pinkie’s memories. They’re still flashing.”

“Ah. You don’t need me to walk you home then?” asked John.

“No, I should be fine. I’ll come get you in the morning.”

“Alright. Bye… Sleep well.”

It was an awkward goodbye. Both of them kept thinking of the last time they said goodbye, all those years ago.

The Hostess walked through the town as it settled down for sleep. People closed their shutters, shops were closing, and there was an annoying voice between her ears.

Yes Pinkie, she thought inwards, what is it?

For the first time Pinkie spoke, not in a giggle or a flash of memory, but in words. It was a surprisingly bubbly happy voice. It reminded the Hostess uncomfortably of her childhood.

The store! Cupcake Corner! We were in charge, and we just left it open! The voice shouted, a note of fear tingeing it.

“…Oh dear.” The Hostess said, and then burst into a run.

Cutie Mark Crusader shop keepers was going…less than ideally. The division of labor had been easy. Applebloom had helped her sister sell apples, so she covered the cash register. Sweetie Bell had a pointy bit, so she was security. Scootaloo cooked, because… they had run out of jobs.

The door jingled as it opened, revealing a grey pegasus with golden, mismatched eyes. One eye looked at Applebloom, while the other watched the bell that had announced her entrance. “Hi Applebloom.” She said in her distinctive voice.

“Hey there…” Applebloom said, desperately trying to remember whether her name was Ditzy or Derpy. “…you” she finished lamely.

The pegasus didn’t seem to notice, and walked over to look at the muffin case. Or at least, half of her looked at the muffin case. The other half stared at a point halfway up a wall.

“Muffins…” she absently murmured. She leaned down and grabbed the largest one in her mouth, and then dropped it with a yelp. A sudden pain in her side had caused her to cry out.

Her head swung down, both eyes focusing on the unicorn filly next to her for a second. The effect was ruined when the left eye decided that the muffins were a much more interesting sight.

“You touch it, you buy it lady.” Sweetie Bell said, in a much deeper voice then her natural one. Her head was lowered, horn at the ready for another poke.

Applebloom was watching the confrontation when she heard Scootaloo’s voice from behind her. “Hey, Applebloom? Do we have any like… buckets? The kind you’d use to hold water?”

The yellow filly swung around on her chair to face the other filly. “Well I don’t think so. There might be some in the kitchen, I suppose.”

“But I was going to buy it!” the grey pegasus argued in the background.

“Oh. Yeah, but… visibility in the kitchen is kind of low…” Scootaloo looked behind her. Her rapidly flapping wings were all that was stopping the billowing smoke from escaping out the door. As she watched, the fire spread to the second stove. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it.” She closed the door.

Applebloom’s eyes moved back to the front of the store, to find the pegasus standing in front of her with a slightly squished muffin. “Oh, uhh… you wanna buy that?”

The pegasus nodded.

“That’ll be… three hundred bits” she guessed. Evidently she guessed wrong, going off the pegasus’s face. “Ah mean, two. Two bits.”

The pegasus smiled at that, and produced two golden coins from under her wing.

A humongous crash arose from the kitchen. Scootaloo had decided that the best course of action was to use the icebox to put out the fire, but that hadn’t turned out so well. She had just succeeded in covering the floor in a slippery slush.

Applebloom turned back from the crash to take the pegasus’s money. As she took it (and counted it) she looked at Sweetie Bell and jerked her head towards the kitchen.

Sweetie Bell stared back blankly.

Applebloom jerked her head harder, nearly falling off the stool.

Sweetie Bell jerked her head in the same way, and then made a confused face.

“No! Go in!” Applebloom said, annoyed.

“In where?”

“The kitchen! Go check on Scootaloo!”

“Ohhh. Why didn’t you just say so?” Sweetie Bell asked as she headed to the kitchen.

Applebloom let her head fall to the desk in front of her with a large clunk. “Anything else for-” She started to ask the pegasus mare, but was cut off by a scream from Sweetie Bell.

“Oh, what is it now?” She asked the air as she walked through the kitchen door and into a warzone.

Both stoves were on fire, as was the tipped icebox and most of the counters. A slushy mess of ice and water coated the floor. The sink was somehow spouting fire itself.

On the bright side, the flames and ice covered up some of the mess, which was truly preposterous. Every surface was coated in, at minimum, a mixture of flour, eggs, and eggshells. Chocolate powder filled the half of the sink that wasn’t on fire. One of the counters was covered with what appeared to be rocks at first glance, but on closer inspection, were cookies.

The walls were painted a bizarre collage of purple, green, and yellow. The back door was open, revealing a cone shaped blast zone of black scorched stone that spread out from the opening. The source of the explosion was quite evidently the pantry, the walls of which had been completely blown out.

As Applebloom surveyed the carnage, the only thing she managed to say was “Now how did you get ice cream on the ceiling?”