//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: Jorge Vs. Angel // Story: MIA // by Gravitys Rainboom //------------------------------// Jorge vs. Angel Mr. Cake sighed as he tucked the twins into bed. Pumpkin Cake and Pound Cake both curled up against one another, the former sucking her hoof as she drifted off into a slumber. The lanky, yellow stallion crooned over his baby foals one more time before tiptoeing out of the room, and shutting off the lights. Sighing a second time, the stallion headed downstairs, ready to attend any customers that may come in for a last minute snack. It had been a good day. ‘Good’ meaning normal, of course. And quiet. And calm. And peaceful. And tranquil. And just about every other synonym for ‘not-Pinkie-esque.’ Not that Mr. Cake didn’t like Pinkie. In fact, he loved her like a daughter. The problem was that the pink mare could be a little difficult to handle at times, and the Cakes rarely ever had a quiet moment to themselves ever since she had moved in. Worse so ever since it was discovered that she was a bearer of an Element of Harmony. Not that Mr. Cake wasn’t proud of Pinkie when they found out. The thing was, ever since Pinkie Pie and her friends were revealed to be the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, the town had gotten a lot crazier. And nuttier. And more chaotic. And apocalyptic. And cotton candy clouds. And Ursa Minors. And parasprites. And eternal night brought on by a deity previously believed to be in exile for over a millennium. Basically, every description and synonym for, what some would call, ‘bat-shit insane.’ As such, the Cakes came to appreciate moments of calm even more than ever before, as few and far between as they were. Mr. Cake made it to the bottom floor and into the kitchen. He paused a moment to just savor the silence, and to crack his back. It was still sore from when his lovely wife forced him to sleep on the couch. Apparently, as he would later learn, “But honey-bunny, I only imagined myself having sex with Princess Celestia” is neither the best, nor the smartest way to end an argument with ones wife. Still, he managed to get the kinks out of his spine easily enough. Smiling contently, he walked over to one of the kitchen’s cabinets, pulled out a kettle, and began preparing himself some tea. Once the hot brew was finished, he carried it back to the front counter, and sat in front of the register. He took a sip of his drink, and checked the day’s profits. “Hmmmm,” he hummed loudly. Not that much, but I guess that makes sense for such a slow day. He groaned in satisfaction. Slow…and calm. Taking one look around his empty store, he did feel a little disappointed that almost nopony had come today, but he supposed that was normal for a Sunday; especially one this hot. Besides, it’s not like they were struggling. In fact, he had been talking with his wife about extending the shop. Heck, maybe even open a new bakery all together. Yes, life was good for the stallion. Especially on such a day that was quiet. And calm. And peaceful. And Tranquil. Yup, absolutely nothing could ruin his Sunday… Applejack and Jorge were only a few minutes away from Ponyville now. After he finished bathing, the Spartan donned his armor and the two started on their way to the town. While putting on the metal suit was much harder than pulling it off, he did it quickly enough. He had even slipped on his helmet again. The two walked side by side, the pony telling Jorge all about her family reunion and its disastrous results. “…and then everypony pitched in and fixed that there barn lickity split,” concluded Applejack. “The reunion turned out great at the end of the day.” “Sounds like it,” nodded Jorge. “So how many times has your barn been destroyed exactly?” “Ah lost count at this point,” answered the pony with a shrug. “And it ain’t like they’re that hard tah rebuild anyways.” Jorge hummed in response, and the two fell into silence. The two continued marching without saying a word, content to enjoy the walk. Soon cottages appeared in the distance once again, and they approached the entrance of the town. As they neared the village, a thought entered Applejack’s head, and she bit her lower lip and shifted her eyes to the Spartan. “Hey Jorge?” “Yes?” asked Jorge without taking his eyes off the road. “Can ah ask you somethin’?” “You just did.” “Okay then, now I have two questions.” “Go ahead.” “First off, do you always have tah be such a smart-ass?” asked Applejack somewhat irritated. “Yes,” answered the Spartan gruffly. “Anything else?” This time Applejack hesitated, causing Jorge to look down at her curiously. “Ah was just wondering…” began Applejack, her voice laced with caution. “How did you get them scars on yer body?” Jorge scowled. “Occupational hazards.” “That’s some occupation you got there,” muttered the pony. “What exactly do you do?” “I’m a soldier.” Applejack waited for him to elaborate but he remained silent, keeping his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “That’s it? What did you do as a soldier?” Rather than answer the pony, Jorge decided to respond with his own question. “So what about you? When do you plan on talking to your love interest?” Applejack stopped dead in her tracks and glared at the Spartan. “Now let’s get somthin’ clear right now. Ah don’t know where you got it in yer thick skull of yers that I liked another mare that way, much less another mare like Rarity, but y’all need tah stop. Ah never said anything of that sort. There ain’t nothin’ goin’ on there, so you can just forget ‘bout it.” The soldier shrugged defensively. “Fair enough. As long as you forget about my personal life.” Applejack’s eyes narrowed, and she huffed in annoyance. “Fine.” She was left grumbling to herself as the two walked into town. The village was as lively as ever, despite the rapidly descending sun. Children frolicked along its streets, playing games among alleys in which they slayed imaginary beasts. The Sunday market was coming to an end, and weary farmers were closing their stalls. As was the case almost every Sunday, the venders all joined their friends and family in the square, and came together for a drink and a laugh. The market was quickly transformed into a sort of festival, and ponies opened up barrels of cider and passed out mugs of the sweet liquid. The smell of tobacco spread through the air as older ponies lit up pipes, and joined each other for yet another round of good natured bickering and nostalgia. Berry Punch opened up a barrel of some of her best wine, and offered a drink to any pony passing by. Before long the air was alive with laughter as the festive atmosphere took over. Yet another end to another glorious summer afternoon in the quaint village. No one enjoyed these days more than Carrot Top. The orange maned mare trotted through the throngs of ponies happily, having recently closed her carrot stand. The warm atmosphere always brought a smile to her lips, and feelings of utter joy seized her insides as she watched the ponies of the village mingle (and it didn’t hurt her mood that she had made an unusually healthy amount of bits that particular Sunday). A group of fillies and colts ran between her legs, screaming excitedly to each other and almost causing her to fall over. Rather than yell at them in annoyance as she would have done almost any other day, she instead chuckled and looked upon the playful foals with fondness. Such was the power that the Sunday market had on the folks of Ponyville. Carrot Top pushed her way through a particularly crowded portion of the square, deeply taking in the aroma of vegetables that were being cooked by some of the ponies in the plaza, and broke through into a clearing. She cantered happily towards a familiar stall, and was immediately greeted with smiles. “Hey there, Carrot Top!” “Hi, Berry Punch, hey guys,” greeted the yellow earth pony as she sat down on a stool next to Colgate and Roseluck. “How’re you girls doing?” “Oh, can’t complain,” replied Roseluck with a shrug. “You know how it is; Sundays are always a little crazy.” “Don’t I know it!” laughed Carrot Top. She heard a grumble to her right, and turned around to find Colgate stooped over Berry Punch’s stand with a glass of wine between her hooves. “What’s wrong Colgate?” “I hate this rotten day,” muttered Colgate. All the mares at the stall rolled their eyes and smiled knowingly at each other. “Every Sunday, Colgate,” droned Berry Punch with a shake of her head. “Just get over it already!” “It just sucks, okay!?” cried out Colgate, annoyed. “I have to sit there in my stupid office hoping for someone to come in so I can treat them. But nopony ever does. It’s sooooo booooooring.” “Why don’t you just close your clinic on Sundays then?” Colgate said nothing; she just blushed and smacked her face against the wood of the counter, grumbling to herself. “What was that?” asked Carrot Top. The blue dentist raised her head, the blush having intensified. “I said: There’s a cute stallion who always sets up his shop in front of my clinic on Sundays.” Carrot Top and Roseluck squealed excitedly, prompting an eye roll from the purple mare behind the counter. “Ooooh, tell us everything,” giggled Roseluck. Colgate turned bright red as she suddenly regretted opening her mouth. “I-It’s just some stallion I want to ask out for Hearts and Hooves day. It’s no big deal.” “Well you’d better hurry. It’s only in a couple more days,” said Berry Punch, pouring herself a small glass of wine. “Let’s not talk about it, please?” pleaded the blue unicorn. “Fine,” huffed Carrot Top in disappointment. “Besides, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Berry.” Berry’s eye brow rose. “You were at the party that Pinkie threw a few days ago, right?” “Yeah?” “Did you see the…” Carrot Top looked back and forth nervously as if to make sure no one was looking “…the human?” she whispered. Roseluck shuddered as Colgate shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Berry Punch tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Nah, I don’t think so,” she answered with a casual shrug. “I don’t remember much of that night. All I know is that when I woke up, I had the weirdest urge to go ask Thunderlane for some ice-cream.” Colgate grinned mischievously at the purple pony. “Ice-cream being…?” Berry snorted into her wine with irritation. “Pervert.” “You’re one to talk!” accused the dentist as she pointed at the purple pony reproachfully. “Anyways, I bet you had a whole conversation with him but can’t even remember. You really need to lay off the wine, Berry.” “Oh come on! I get drunk once or twice a year, but because I happen to make wine I immediately become the town’s drunk.” Berry Punch took a dainty sip of her glace, and shot her roommate a glare. “Besides, I think I would remember talking to a human, Colgate.” “Who wouldn’t,” murmured Roseluck. “Remember when it came to town? That thing waved his hand at me! I swear he was trying to claw me. I was so terrified I passed out!” Carrot Top grabbed Roseluck’s hoof and squeezed it comfortingly. “I don’t care what the Princesses said, that thing’s a menace.” “There, there,” cooed the carrot farmer. “It’s alright, that thing’s gone now. He won’t bother you again. Here, let’s talk about something else.” She turned to face Colgate, and gave her a lecherous smirk. “Like Colgate’s coltfriend.” “Carrot Top!” squeaked Colgate shrilly, prompting a chuckle from the other mares. The subject of the insidious human forgotten, the girls began teasing poor Colgate about her estranged lover before moving on to their favorite topic: gossip. Ponies continued cooking, drinking, laughing, and all around having a great time as they relaxed after a day’s hard work and took advantage of the last few hours of sunlight. Soon the plaza was filled with barbeques as families stir-fried and roasted vegetables for the community to enjoy. And all the while the cider and wine kept flowing. The stand where the four mares were sitting at quickly became the center of attention, as Berry Punch decided to just give away her last few barrels of wine. However, just as Carrot Top was about to tell her friends another lewd joke, the market place fell silent. It took the yellow mare a moment to notice what had happened, but when she did she felt a shiver run up her spine. Mere moments ago she was having trouble hearing herself over the torrent of laughter, but now if one were to drop a pin it would have made a gloriously cacophonous roar. The confused mare whipped her head back and forth, trying to find out what had happened. The warm glow in her stomach (courteous of the wine) was replaced by a cold pain that jabbed her insides. She noticed that Colgate, Berry Punch, Roseluck, and just about everyone else in the plaza were all gaping in one direction; their jaws were unhinged, and their eyes were wide. Carrot Top turned around to see what they were all staring at, and soon her face mirrored theirs. There, standing at the entrance of the town’s square, was a tall, bulky figure. It didn’t take long for Carrot Top to realize that it was the dreaded human that had been plaguing the village for the past few days. The mare also noticed that there was a pony standing right next to the demonic biped, and she quickly recognized her as Applejack. Nopony said a word as the pair stood at the threshold to the plaza. Everypony just stared nervously at the duo. Carrot Top could see Applejack talking to the human. Then, the two started walking. Everypony desperately scrambled messily out of the way to clear a path for the monstrous biped and its pony companion; knocking over grills and stands in a desperate attempt to get out of the beast’s path. Ponies were sure to give them a healthy distance, murmuring anxiously among themselves and fidgeting nervously as the two calmly walked through the crowd. Carrot Top understood too late that they were heading straight for her; for no sooner did she realize this that she suddenly found herself in the shadow of the steel behemoth. The carrot farmer gulped loudly and slowly rotated her head to look up to the dreaded creature of myth. It was totally faceless, instead wearing some sort of orange glass where its face should have been, making it all the more frightening. Carrot Top looked back at her reflection displayed on the monster’s ‘face,’ and quivered in fear. “Howdy there, Berry Punch,” greeted Appejack. “Hey, Applejack,” replied Berry Punch casually, ignoring everypony’s reactions. “Who’s your handsome friend?” Carrot Top, Colgate, Roseluck, and just about everypony in the plaza looked at her like she had gone insane. Applejack herself blinked in surprise, before smiling thankfully and waving to Jorge. “This here’s mah friend Jorge.” Jorge gave the purple pony a small nod, though it was hard to tell with his helmet on. “Good afternoon.” Carrot Top heard a gasp to her left, and turned just in time to see Roseluck bring her hoof up to her forehead and pass out in fear. Colgate rushed to the fallen mare, and began fanning her furiously. Berry Punch looked down at Roseluck with a bored expression before turning back to the cowpony in front of her. “What can I do you for, Applejack?” “Oh ah’m just here to pick up a few things.” The orange mare handed the wine vender a small piece of paper, which she inspected carefully. “Hmmm,” hummed Berry as her eyes ran over the list. “Yeah, I still got these in stock. Just give me a second.” She ducked under her stall and began rummaging through her belongings. Jorge and Applejack just stood there patiently, acting completely oblivious to the fact that half the entire town was gawking at them. After about a minute or two, Berry Punch returned with a couple bottles and placed them on the table. “Here you go. Finest vintages I got.” “You say that ‘bout all yer vintages,” pointed out AJ with a roll of her eyes. “True, that’s because they’re all the finest.” “Wait a minute, now I recognize you,” said Jorge suddenly, pointing to Berry Punch. “You’re that drunk mare I had tea with the morning after my welcome party.” Every single eye in the town square was fixed on the wine maker, who was tapping her chin in deep thought. Her face lit up, and she looked at Jorge with new found recognition. “I remember. You’re that sexy human dude who listened to me babble on about Thunderlane or something, right?” Jorge nodded, and didn’t seem fazed at being described as ‘sexy’. “I knew it wasn’t a dream. If I remember right you couldn’t take your eyes off my flank.” Now it was Applejack’s turn to gape at the human. “Well it wasn’t like I had a choice with you shoving it in my face,” snorted Jorge. “Hey, I was just trying to give you a little taste of the merchandise is all. So, has any of our town’s fine bachelorettes asked you out for Hearts and Hooves Day yet, stud?” “Not yet. Why, you offering?” Berry Punch burst out laughing. “Sorry stud, not exactly. I could see why you’d be interested though. Nah, I was asking for my good friend Carrot Top over here is all.” “WHAT!?!” “The thing is,” continued Berry Punch, ignoring her friend’s flummoxed expression. “…poor Carrot Top over here hasn’t gone out with a stallion in like a year. A mare can’t go that long without getting laid, it isn’t healthy. She needs a big stallion, or human or whatever, like yourself to satisfy her. She has big needs. You might be in for some long nights…” The purple pony brought her hooves up in a suggestive manner, causing many parents in the plaza to cover their children’s eyes and give the mare outraged looks. “…if you know what I mean?” She gave the human a not-so-subtle wink. Carrot Top covered her head in her hooves and tried to force some unwanted (albeit ‘hot’) images out of her head. “I think I know what you mean,” chuckled Jorge. “…I’m talking about your di-” “We all know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, Berry Punch!” shouted Applejack, her own face flushed. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we got some errands tah run. How much do ah owe you?” “It’s on the house.” Applejack opened her mouth to protest but Berry immediately stopped her. “Don’t even think about it, apple bucker. I’ve been giving this stuff away for free for the past hour anyways. If I charged you I would be ripping you off. Just take ‘em.” Applejack reluctantly thanked Berry, and grabbed her bottles before making her way out of the plaza. “Goodbye, Berry Punch,” said Jorge. “It’s been a pleasure.” “Not yet, but maybe if you play your cards right it will,” smirked the earth pony, causing Jorge to snort with laughter. The human followed Applejack through the crowd, creating a path with his mere presence. Once they were gone, every pony in the town square goggled at Berry Punch, who looked around in confusion as if suddenly noticing their presence. “What?” she asked innocently. Meanwhile, somewhere in the crowd, a charcoal colored pegasus with a grey mohawk was eyeing Carrot Top with sudden interest. A year, eh? “I think that went pretty well.” “They were scared stiff of me again,” growled Jorge. “Yeah, but at least they didn’t run away or anythin’,” offered Applejack lamely. “Besides, Berry Punch seemed tah like you.” “Great. So far the only ponies that can stand me are the insane ones and the perverts.” Applejack gave Jorge a pointed glare, which he pretended not to notice. “Be honest with me, do I need to be worried about Berry Punch?” The apple farmer waved her hoof dismissively. “Nah. She’s just foolin’ around. She ain’t serious ‘bout…you know.” “Sex?” Applejack blushed, and coughed into her hoof. “Y-yeah.” “Anyways, what are we doing here again?” asked the soldier, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. “We just gotta run some errands,” replied Applejack, thankful for the change of topic. She wasn’t the most comfortable pony when it came to discussing intimate subjects. “First ah need to tah stop at Quills and Sofas tah pick up a…” “Let me guess,” interrupted Jorge flatly. “A quill or a sofa?” “Ha, ha,” deadpanned Applejack with a roll of her eyes. “No, mister smarty-pants. Ah just need tah pick up some bits the owner owes me is all. Then we’re gonna head over tah Sugarcube Corner and then the library tah drop some thangs off, okay?” Jorge shrugged and cracked his neck. “Fair enough. I needed to get out of that clock tower.” The two continued along the semi-deserted streets of Ponyville until they arrived at their first destination: Quills and Sofas. Applejack told Jorge to stay wait outside while she completed her business transaction. Her reasoning was that there was no need for the Spartan to cause a ‘ruckus.’ In truth, he was just too big to fit through the ‘damn door’ as he called it. So Jorge was forced to stay put a few feet away from the shop’s entrance, grumbling to himself. The shop was like most other shops in Ponyville, in that it looked absolutely nothing like a shop. Similar to a medieval tavern back on Earth, the store was built into a cottage that looked no different than one of the many residences it surrounded. In fact, had the door not featured a blue, wooden sign picturing a white feather and a red couch hanging overhead, Jorge would have just dismissed it as something inconsequential; another home perhaps. This was not the first time the Spartan had seen the shop however. A few days ago, when the Princess was giving him a tour under the guise of her invisibility spell, the group had passed by the shop. Jorge remembered thinking that it was rather curious. ‘Curious’ meaning that it was the stupidest thing he had ever seen, easily cracking to the top of his list of the most bizarre and outright ridiculous things he had witnessed since arriving. The stupidity of the shop however, was only outdone by the stupidity of the fact that not only did a shop that only sold quills and sofas exist, but that such an establishment had not yet gone out of business. In fact, the store seemed to be doing quite well if the three story building it occupied was any indication. This prompted Jorge to ponder the supply/demand ratios the village of Ponyville had for quills and sofas, and whether or not the goods were really such an essential commodity for the ponies. His musings were cut short by a small, yellow blip on his motion tracker. Before he could react, he felt something smack him upside the head, causing his shield to glow in protest. He turned around to try and discern what had hit him, and saw a pegasus sitting on the ground, rubbing her nose. “Ow,” muttered the pony, her voice somewhat nasally from the hitting her snout. The pegasus was a mare, that much was clear. She was grey, had a messy yellow mane, and her flank bore the image of a cluster of bubbles. “Are you alright?” asked Jorge. “Yeah, I’m good.” The mare continued rubbing her snout, before standing up and opening her eyes. Much to the Spartan’s surprise, one of her eyes was staring directly at him, while the other began to lazily drift off and look in other directions. Still, they both widened when they got caught sight of him, making it fairly obvious that she could see him. And now comes the part where she freezes up in terror, thought the soldier cynically. “Wow, you’re big,” chirped the pony before outstretching her hoof. “My names Ditzy Doo, it’s nice to meet you.” Jorge didn’t say anything. He just stared at Ditzy, who was beaming at him and waiting for him to take her hoof. “Pleasure to meet you Miss Doo,” said the soldier as he shook the pony’s hoof. Ditzy looked at her grey leg in fascination before giggling. “Sorry about bumping into you.” Jorge shrugged. “It’s no problem, I’ve had worse.” “Yeah, I know what you mean,” laughed Ditzy. “I’m always bumping into stuff; Lampposts, signs, walls, trees, big people.” The pegasus gestured to Jorge when saying that last one. “Hey, I just realized you didn’t tell me your name,” she exclaimed with mock anger. “It’s Jorge Zero Five Two. You can just call me Jorge.” “Sure thing, Jorge. You can call me Derpy if you want.” Jorge frowned and tilted his head quizzically. “Derpy?” “Yup. Almost everypony in Ponyville calls me Derpy. You know, cuz of the eyes?” The pegasus pointed to her eyes. Jorge noted that their golden color was really quite beautiful. Of course, that didn’t take away from the fact that they were looking in opposite directions. “Don’t you find that insulting?” asked Jorge. Ditzy pondered the question for a moment. “Nah, not really. When I was little my dad gave me some advice. He said ‘Ditzy, it doesn’t matter what you do, there will still be ponies who will make fun of you cuz of your eyes. Don’t ignore it. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you .’” “Your father sounds like a very wise person,” murmured the human. “Yup, he sure was.” Before either of them could say anything more, they heard a small bell sounding from the store’s front entrance. Applejack walked out followed by a brown stallion with a blue couch and a quill for a cutie-mark. “Thanks for the bits, Sharp Quill.” “No problem, Applejack. Sorry it took so long to get them to you.” “If you come over tah the farm later, ah can get you that cider you asked fer.” “That sounds gre-” The shop owner seized up when he noticed Jorge. The Spartan began ticking off a mental checklist: First, the stallion’s pupils shrunk. Then his fur stood on end. Then his breathing quickened, followed by intense trembling. In a sense, it had become all too predictable for the soldier. Jorge looked at the terrified stallion. “Boo.” The shop owner screeched (like a little filly), and rushed back into his shop before shutting the door behind him, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Applejack gave the Spartan a flat, un-amused stare, which he was more than happy to ignore. Ditzy looked between the door and the human in confusion. “I don’t get it,” said the pegasus as she scratched her head. “All you said was ‘boo.’” “Did you really have tah do that?” asked Applejack in irritation. “He would have done it eventually,” reasoned the Spartan. “This way we get to skip another five minutes of mindless babbling.” Applejack sighed and shook her head in defeat. “Howdy there, Derpy,” she greeted when she noticed the pegasus. “Hi, Applejack!” hailed Ditzy enthusiastically. Jorge tensed, and the corner of his eye twitched in anger. He shot Applejack a scowl, but she was unable to see it under his helmet. “Where do we go now?” growled the Spartan. Applejack paused and gave him a curious look. “We’re…we’re goin’ tah Sugarcube Corner,” she answered cautiously, confused by Jorge’s sudden change in demeanor. “Sugarcube Corner!? That’s where I’m going!” said Ditzy. “Can I tag along? I need to pick up my weekly supply of muffins.” “Sure thang, Derpy.” The trio resumed their journey through the town. Applejack was content to remain silent, while Ditzy began rambling to Jorge about her favorite types of muffins, going into excruciating detail about the differences between a raspberry and a blueberry muffin. Jorge just listened politely and dared not interrupt the pegasus, who’s mouth began to water as she described the texture of recently baked poppy seed muffins. As they passed, ponies distanced themselves or outright ran away from the entourage, which wasn’t all that surprising. What was surprising (and ultimately somewhat relieving to Jorge) was that there were a few ponies who didn’t shy away from him. They eyed him nervously, but didn’t go out of their way to avoid him. In fact, there were one or two who cautiously approached him to get a better look; although Jorge noticed these were generally children. “Look, we’re here,” said Applejack, interrupting Ditzy as she explained the eccentricities in making a strawberry muffin. Jorge looked to where the cowpony was pointing. Just when he thought nothing could faze him anymore, his jaw unattached itself from his face. It was a giant gingerbread house. The walls were standard enough, but were quickly lost under the utter absurdity of the rest of the architecture. The windows were bright pink, as well as the door, which was surrounded by a pair of candy cane columns (these were, shockingly, the tamest aspects of the building). The roof’s shingles looked like chocolate cookies, and a white, frosting-like décor ran along their edges, giving the top of the structure the appearance of a cake. A massive tower poked out of the top of the roof, capped by a giant cupcake with three birthday-candle-shaped lamps sticking out of it. Finally, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that the place was a bakery, there was a sign picturing a cupcake hanging next to the front entrance. Evidently, ponies had yet to grasp the finer nuances of subtlety. Jorge stood, gaping at the structure for a full minute, before being brought back to reality by Applejack. “You comin’ or what?” Jorge shook his head clear and followed both mares to the front entrance of the shop. Much to his relief, the Spartan found that he could fit through. The trio walked inside. The interior of the store was like any standard bakery. “Uh…hello?” called out Applejack. “Be with you in a second, deary!” replied a voice from a back room behind the counter. “This is a bad idea,” muttered Jorge. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout?” “I mean that I’m going to freak someone out. I should have just waited outside.” No sooner did he finish speaking that a chubby, blue mare, with a curly, red mane resembling frosting walked out from what Jorge assumed was a kitchen. She sauntered up behind the counter, and smiled at Applejack. When she noticed Jorge however, her smile turned to that of a worried frown. “Hey there, Applejack,” greeted the blue mare. “Uh…what’s this?” She gestured to Jorge. “Oh, this is mah friend Jorge.” The Spartan raised his hand in greeting. “Hello.” “Oh my, you are a big one,” chuckled the blue mare, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Gee, ah gotta say Mrs. Cake ah’m impressed. We kinda expected you to…uh…freak out a little when you saw Jorge.” Mrs. Cake clutched one of her sides as she let out a hearty laugh. “Please, sweetie. After living with Pinkie for the better part of six years, this is hardly the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.” “Did somepony say my name!” “Jesus Christ!” Jorge jumped back and instinctively whipped his pistol out of its holster as Pinkie’s face materialized in front of his visor out of nowhere. The pink pony, who had been standing on the Spartan’s head, slowly descended to the ground at a physics defying speed. She beamed at the Spartan with a smile that (quite literally) stretched off her face. What the fuck!? Why the HELL didn’t she appear on my motion sensor? “Pinkie…how the hell did you get on my…screw it, I don’t even want to know!” “Pinkie,” scolded Mrs. Cake in a motherly tone. “What did we talk about scaring the customers?” “Sorry Mrs. Cake,” said Pinkie bashfully. “It’s just that I heard somepony say my name, and then I saw Jorgie was here and I got really, really, really excited because I hadn’t seen him in a couple days! Hi there, Jorgie! Did you like my present?” Jorge took a second to compose himself. He slipped his pistol back into his holster, and checked his motion sensor to make sure he wouldn’t experience any more unpleasant surprises. “Hello, Pinkie,” greeted the Spartan, turning his attention back to the excitable mare. “Yes, they were delicious. Thank you very much.” “Ah, don’t worry silly. It was my pleasure!” “Listen, Pinkie,” said Mrs. Cake trying to gain Pinkie’s attention. “Would you mind attending to Ditzy and Applejack please? I’ve got to go…” she glanced anxiously at Jorge “…warn poor Carrot about Jorge here. You know how jumpy he can be. I wouldn’t want him to wake up and come down only to pass out if he sees him.” “Sure thing, Mrs. Cake!” The chubby baker climbed up a staircase and left the three mares and the human downstairs. “So what can I do you for?” asked Pinkie, jumping behind the counter in a single hop. “I’m here to pick up the usual, Pinkie,” explained Ditzy. “Okie dokie lokie! Be back in a jiffy.” Pinkie disappeared through the back door, and exactly one jiffy later (which Jorge calculated was roughly .46 seconds) Pinkie appeared again hefting a massive brown bag labeled ‘Derpy.’ “Here…you go…Derpy,” grunted the pink mare as she dropped the enormous bag in front of the grey pegasus’ hooves. The sack landed on the floor with a loud *thud*, which echoed throughout the shop and rattled the building’s windows. “What’s in this?” asked Jorge, tapping the bag with the tip of his foot. “Muffins!” chirped Ditzy happily. Jorge stared at the bag in disbelief. He would have rubbed his eyes if not for his helmet. “This is all muffins? This must be at least three tons!” “Yup! My weekly supply.” The Spartan stared at the smiling muffin addict, trying to quantify how it was possible that such a small pony could eat so many muffins. “You must really like muffins,” he muttered after his brain huffed a resounding ‘screw it,’ and gave up trying to find any logic in what was going on. “You. Have. No. Idea,” stated the pegasus, suddenly deathly serious. She chucked a bag full of bits towards Pinkie, who caught it in her mouth and put it in the cash register. The sound of crying was heard coming from upstairs, quickly getting louder and louder. Before long Mrs. Cake returned with two crying baby foals in her hooves. One was a beige pegasus with a brown mane, while the other was a unicorn with a yellow coat and an orange mane. “The twins woke up again,” she grumbled wearily. “Here Pinkie, can you…you know?” “I’ll get the flour,” sighed the pink pony before going into the kitchen. Jorge and Applejack stood uncomfortably, unsure of what to do while Mrs. Cake tried to calm her infants. Ditzy meanwhile, happily began scarfing down her muffins. One of foals, the unicorn, popped open its tear laden eye for a brief second. When she caught a glimpse of the Spartan, her cries slowly began to falter, and her tears ceased to flow. Mrs. Cake gaped at her daughter as the infant started laughing and stretching her tiny hooves to the human. Upon hearing his sister’s laughter, the beige pegasus also stopped crying to see what was going on. When he noticed Jorge he too giggled and tried to reach for the Spartan. “They…they stopped,” whispered Mrs. Cake, relief and confusion palpable in her voice. She looked up at Jorge with new found reverence. “How in Celestia’s name did you do that?” “I didn’t do anything.” “Does this mean I won’t have to cover myself in flour?” asked Pinkie from the doorway as she hefted a large sack on her back. The foals continued giggling and trying to squirm their way out of Mrs. Cake’s grip and towards the Spartan. The yellow unicorn’s horn started glowing, and she levitated itself out of Mrs. Cake’s grip and floated towards Jorge. Before anyone could do anything, the foal floated in front of the human, and dropped herself into his grasp. “Pumpkin Cake!” gasped Mrs. Cake in fright. “Don’t worry Mrs. Cake, Jorgie’s super nice,” assured Pinkie. “He won’t hurt Pumpkin Cake.” As if to confirm Pinkie, Pumpkin Cake began giggling madly. Jorge stared at the infant’s blue eyes with a quizzical expression. Using one hand to grasp Pumpkin, he raised his other and used it to pull off his helmet before dropping it onto the ground. He smiled at the infant and began tickling its belly with his metallic finger, causing her to giggle even louder. Pound Cake remained in Mrs. Cake’s grasp, but began to whine enviously at his sister. “Hello there, little one,” whispered Jorge as he continued tickling the foal’s belly. “My name’s Jorge.” “J-Jorge,” gurgled the foal, still outstretching her hooves towards the human. Jorge gave the unicorn a small smile as various ‘D’aaww’s could be heard throughout the room. Pumpkin began suckling on Jorge’s finger, her small blue eyes gazing upon the warm face of the human, who looked down at her with gentle fondness. Jorge noticed that her stubby little horn was glowing with a blue aura, and soon her entire body was encased in the glow. Even through his armor, the Spartan could feel a slight tingling in his fingers as the light from the foal’s horn began to intensify. “She can do magic?” asked Jorge. “Yes, newborn unicorns can manipulate magic the first few months after their birth,” answered Mrs. Cake. “Don’t worry though. It’s relatively harmle-” A massive bolt of energy shot out of Pumpkin’s horn with a powerful *ZAP,* hitting Jorge straight in the chest. The Spartan flew back over the counter, and tore through the back wall like it was confetti. The doorway exploded into a shower of wood and stone as debris was thrown throughout the kitchen. Ditzy, Applejack, and Mrs. Cake covered their ears while the cacophony of destruction continued to echo through the bakery. Dust quickly settled all over the floor, and the mares opened their eyes to gape at what had happened. Even Ditzy’s eyes had temporarily straightened to gawk at the ruin that had been cast. The wall behind the counter was caved in, exposing the kitchen behind it, which was almost entirely covered in rubble. Pots and pans were strewn about the ground, and cabinets from the pantry had collapsed. In fact, Mrs. Cake couldn’t tell if the white powder was obliterated stone from the destroyed wall, or sugar and flour from their supply cabinets. Pound and Pumpkin Cake were giggling madly, the latter levitating over the floor with her telekinesis and clapping her hooves together in satisfaction. “Jorge!” cried out Applejack once she had regained her wits. The mares all galloped into the obliterated kitchen. Jorge was lying face up on top of a recently crushed refrigerator that he had landed on. He groaned, and shook his head to try and rid it of any debris. His eyes stung with dust, and his armor was caked with white powders and jams from the bakery’s supplies. Thank god, he thought wryly. And here I thought I was going to go a whole week without being thrown through a wall. “Jorge, are you alright!?” asked Applejack as she approached the groaning human. The Spartan sat up and brushed off some of the wreckage from his armor. “Never better.” Applejack gasped. “Yer bleedin’!” “Am I now?” Jorge brought his hand the back of his head. As soon as his fingers made contact with the back of his skull he felt a sharp sting. He brought his hand back to his face, and saw that it was glistening with blood. “Huh, look at that.” “We need tah get that healed up. Mrs. Cake, d’you have a-” “Way ahead of you, deary,” mumbled the baker as she carried a white box emblazoned with a red cross. “It’s fine,” assured Jorge. “It’s just a scratch.” “Shut it,” ordered the apple farmer. “Bend over so ah can reach you.” Jorge sighed and did as he was told. Applejack opened up the first aid kit and examined the soldier. Despite his assurances, Applejack could tell the wound was deep. Blood was slowly gurgling up to the surface and dripping down the back of his neck, leaving crimson trails as it went. “Now hold still.” Jorge gritted his teeth as Applejack applied alcohol on the cut, but didn’t say anything. The pony deftly cleaned the wound and moved to wrap it with some bandages. “I’m so, so sorry, dearie,” said Mrs. Cake, mortified. “It’s fine,” assured the Spartan. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’m just glad that your daughter’s magic is harmless. I was worried for a moment.” Mrs. Cake felt a stab of guilt, but it eased when she noticed Jorge chuckle to himself. “Woah, this place is trashed,” observed Ditzy as she stepped over a large chunk of stone. “It won’t be a problem,” sighed Mrs. Cake wearily. “We’ll just have to tap into the Pinkie Fund is all.” “Pinkie fund?” “We always like to have a little money stored away in case Pinkie gets into one of her moods and something like this happens,” explained the blue mare. “So you’re saying you have an entire fund kept specifically in case Pinkie causes some sort of property damage?” asked Jorge skeptically. “Of course. Everypony living on this block has one.” “All done,” announced Applejack before Jorge could ask anything else. The Spartan stood up, stretched his limbs, wiped off any dust and flour that was still on his armor, and followed the trio of mares back to the front of the shop. Pinkie Pie was standing in front of the two foals, who were sitting passively on the ground, and giving them stern looks. “No Pumpkin. We do not throw our customers through walls,” she scolded. The infants paid no heed, for no sooner did Jorge walked through the gaping hole in the wall that they started giggling and stretching their legs to him once more. Pound Cake tipped over over trying to reach him, and began crawling toward the human. “I think they really like you,” stated Ditzy. “They have a funny way of showing it,” muttered Jorge humorlessly. Pound Cake reached his thick leg and tried climbing up it with little success. “Honey, is everything alright?” called a male voice from upstairs. A lanky, yellow stallion with an orange mane ran downstairs. His mane was a mess and he had bags under his eyes, and as he climbed down the last few steps he stumbled a bit. “I heard a commotion and… I…” The stallion trailed off as his eyes ran over the scene in front of him. His mouth opened and closed without emitting any sound as he gawked at the rubble-strewn kitchen. His eyes rolled back into his head, his legs began wobbling from side to side, and the stallion passed out as his knees buckled from under him. Mrs. Cake sighed as she walked over to her unconscious husband and hefted him on her back. “Not again. I was afraid this would happen.” “Is he gonna be okay?” asked Ditzy through a mouthful of muffin. “Yes, don’t worry. This isn’t the first time this has happened.” “Well this had been…fun,” said Applejack. “But it’s gonna be dark out soon, and we better get goin’. Let me just hand over yer delivery and ah’ll be on mah way.” Applejack removed a bottle of wine from her saddle bag and placed it on the counter. “Thanks, dearie,” grunted Mrs. Cake, her husband beginning to snore on her back. “How much do I owe you?” “Just a couple bits fer the delivery. Berry Punch gave ‘em tah me fer free.” Jorge’s eyebrows shot up as Mrs. Cake handed Applejack the bits, and he gave the farmer an inquisitive stare. Applejack lowered her head in embarrassment and walked out the front door, followed by Derpy, who was somehow carrying the massive bag of muffins with ease. Jorge looked back to the Cakes and Pinkie Pie. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said, slipping his helmet back on. “Likewise,” said Mrs. Cake as she fanned her husband. “Be sure to come back whenever you want, Mister Jorge. The twins’ll sure be happy to see you. Uh…let’s just hope they can play a little more gently next time.” Pumpkin Cake laughed and gurgled happily as she tried reaching for the human. “Bye, Jorgie!” called out Pinkie. “See you later.” Jorge gave the ponies a final nod, before following Applejack and Ditzy out the door. The two mares were waiting for the human right outside the door. “Well I gotta go,” announced Ditzy cheerfully. “I’ll see you guys later. It was nice meeting you, Mister Jorge.” “It was nice meeting you, Ditzy. I wish more people in this village could be like you,” said Jorge with a smile, which went unseen. Ditzy grabbed one end of the sack in her mouth and it began dragging it towards her home. Much to Jorge’s amusement, the pegasus managed to slip a muffin in her mouth as she did so. “See you, Derpy!” called out Applejack with a wave as Ditzy left their view. Jorge shot the orange mare a cold glare. “Do you really have to call her that,” he growled. “What, ‘Derpy’?” “It’s sounds demeaning.” “Shoot, I don’t mean nothin’ by it. It’s just what she told me ah could call her.” Jorge didn’t say anything; he simply continued to grumble to himself. Applejack gave him a curious look before marching down a street with Jorge walking behind her. “Why are you delivering wine all over the village?” he asked after a few minutes. Applejack looked down at the ground in shame. “What? Ah can’t do mah friends favors now?” “I don’t know how you ponies do things here, but where I come from we don’t charge others for favors. That’s typically called employment,” grunted Jorge cheekily. Applejack shut her eyes and let a small growl gurgle from the back of her throat. “It’s good money, okay!?” she snapped. “Ah could always use a little more spending money on the side is all!” Despite Applejack’s answer, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. Still Jorge said nothing, waiting for the mare to calm down a bit. It was clear he had prodded a rather sensitive nerve, and it was best he didn’t aggravate her further. “Where are we going now?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. “Ah just need tah make a quick stop to Twilight’s Library.” “Need to do another ‘favor’?” Applejack’s eyes tightened and she looked away from the human. “Y-yeah,” she whispered to herself. Jorge hummed and pretended not to notice the pony’s behavior. “It’d be interesting to see the library again.” “You don’t have tah go if you don’t want tah.” “It’s not like I have much else to do.” And I need to find that little blue ball before it goes off. “Ah just don’t wan tah see you wreckin’ the place again,” joked Applejack teasingly, momentarily forgetting her troubles. The human snorted dismissively. “Please, I’ve already done enough damage today. Besides, I doubt I could wreck that library more than I have already.” Twilight sat stooped over a large pile of notes on her desk. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, tense wrinkles plagued her previously soft face, and her eyes were heavy with bags from many sleepless nights. She pored over the papers in a delicate state of absolute focus. She was, as her friend Rarity would have put it, in the zone. The only things that occupied her plane of existence at that moment were her, and her papers; nothing more. It was a very delicate position to be in. Even the slightest noise, the slightest distraction, could send her into a- *KNOCK**KNOCK* “ARGH!!!” Twilight cried out and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the knocking coming from her door. She waited a few minutes to let her heart rate get under control (as it ran the risk of ripping itself out of her chest) and to slow her breathing. Once she had calmed down enough, she gave an annoyed huff and made her way to the recently repaired front door. She opened it to reveal a familiar looking white unicorn. “Hello, darling,” greeted Rarity, who was carrying a saddle bag that looked like it was about to burst. “How are you doing today? I didn’t interrupt anything, I hope?” Yes, you kind of did. “Not at all, Rarity,” replied Twilight, trying to force a smile. The two stayed there, not saying a word. Twilight continued giving the dress-maker a large, fake smile while simultaneously praying to Celestia (and Luna, just to be safe) that she would leave, while Rarity’s content expression quickly descended into one of puzzlement. “*Ahem* aren’t you going to invite me in?” asked Rarity none too subtly, giving her friend a confused smirk. Twilight groaned mentally. I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “Yes…of course…sorry,” she mumbled awkwardly. The lavender moved aside to let her friend walk through, and followed. “I see they repaired the library,” noticed Rarity. At this Twilight genuinely perked up. “Oh yes! Princess Luna paid for it. She said it was her duty, considering it had been wrecked during ‘royal business.’” “Where is the Princess by the way?” asked Rarity with forced nonchalance. “Didn’t she say she was going to stay in town to take care of Jorge?” Twilight shook her head. “As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stay in Ponyville. The Princess told me she got a letter from Princess Celestia that she had to go back to Canterlot urgently on royal business. Apparently something really big’s going on and it’s got to do with Jorge.” Rarity couldn’t help but look crestfallen. “But I had this dress specially made for her,” pouted the unicorn as she levitated a dark dress from her saddle bag. It was a single piece of obsidian-colored silk that ran down with a long tail at the end. When the purple unicorn looked closely she saw that small diamonds were sewn within the cloth, giving the dress the appearance of a starry night. Twilight could also see that it was quite revealing. “I spent the entire week working on it! I mean how often does one have a member of royalty as their neighbor?” “It’s very nice, Rarity!” marveled Twilight. “Simple, yet elegant.” “Yes, just like moi,” gloated Rarity with a toss of her mane. Twilight rolled her eyes at her friend’s display. “Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll get a chance to give it to her.” “Oh I would certainly hope so. By the way Twilight, you look somewhat…disheveled. I didn’t want to say anything but…” “Gee, thanks for looking past it,” deadpanned Twilight. “You know me,” said Rarity with a mischievous smirk. “Yes I do. Anyways I’ve just been reviewing the notes I took during our brunch with Jorge. I spent the whole night writing my own theories about some of the things he told us about humans.” Twilight sighed tiredly. “I just wish I had more time to talk to him.” “All in due time, my dear Twilight. All in due time.” The conversation was punctuated with the shrill creaks and groans of the staircase that led upstairs. Both unicorns turned to see a pair of stubby, purple legs climb down the steps. “Hey Twilight, have you seen my- RARITY!?” As soon as he saw the white mare, the dragon eagerly began scrambling down the steps as fast as he could. In his haste to greet the mare of his dreams, Spike lost his footing and found himself falling down the steps, bouncing off each stair painfully as he tumbled down. Rarity and Twilight both winced every time he smacked his face, until he finally landed on the ground with a resounding *thud* (again, on his face). Why is it always the face? thought Spike as he groaned face-flat on the ground. “Dear me! Are you alright, Spikey Wikey?” At the sound of his pet name, the dragon immediately scrambled onto his feet and looked away with a casual, almost bored expression. “Yeah, I’m good. No big deal,” he said suavely as he rubbed his fist against his chest and examined his claws with fake interest Twilight giggled and moved toward Spike. “Smooth,” she whispered teasingly into his ear, causing his cheeks to gain a slight red hue. “So Rarity,” began Spike, trying desperately to sound casual. “What are you doing here?” Rarity couldn’t help but giggle at Spike’s display. She found his infatuation with her endearing, and although she knew that eventually she would have to sit down and have a serious talk with him about love, she couldn’t help but enjoy the adorable spectacle while he was still young. “Oh I’m just here to deliver something to the Princess.” The white unicorn sighed in disappointment. “But now that I know she’s not here, I suppose I should leave.” “But you can’t leave!” cried out Spike, all pretense of coolness shattering at the sudden possibility of the object of his affection leaving. “You gotta stay for, like, five more minutes, okay?” Ignoring the puzzled looks from both mares, the dragon hurried back up the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him. “What was that all about?” Twilight shrugged. She couldn’t understand her assistant sometimes. She was about to follow him upstairs and ask, when another knock came from her door. Twilight couldn’t help but grit her teeth. I’m never going to finish my work at this rate. “Coming!” The unicorn walked up to the front door, and opened it with magic to reveal Jorge and Applejack waiting patiently outside. “Howdy, Twi.” “Applejack, good to see you!” greeted the librarian. She was more interested in Jorge however, and looked at him excitedly while she thanked her good fortunes. “Hi, Jorge, still wearing your armor I see.” “Hello,” grunted the human. “I see you fixed your door.” “Yup! And I asked to make it bigger just for you.” “I’m flattered,” rumbled Jorge. He followed Applejack and Twilight into the library, and noticed that that the kitchen had also been repaired. More than repaired, it looked completely refurbished. Even utilities that hadn’t been broken during the scuffle with the Princesses had been replaced with more modern (and more expensive) counterparts. “Jorge, Applejack, so good to see you!” greeted Rarity. “Hi…there…uh…Rares,” replied Applejack with a smile. Jorge just nodded. “Listen Jorge,” said Twilight in a businesslike manner. “I was wondering if you could look over some of the notes I took about you. And maybe we could continue the discussion we started during breakfast with the Princess. “Sure,” responded the soldier with a shrug. “Oh, before y’all go runnin’ off tah to some research or whatever, I gotta give you somethin’, Twi.” Twilight gave Applejack a confused looked, before brightening up. “Of course, now I remember. Let me just get some bits.” The unicorn began rummaging through her notes, grumbling in frustration as she tried to find coins in the swirling vortex of papers and rubbish known as her desk. Eventually she found what she was looking for: as small lavender coin purse. Levitating a handful of bits out, Twilight handed them over to Applejack, who in turn gave her a couple bottles of wine. The purple pony levitated them back into her kitchen, where she would save them for a special occasion. Throughout the whole transaction Rarity gave Applejack a suspicious look, which the cowpony failed to notice. “So Jorge, are you ready?” asked Twilight, motioning over to her desk. The Spartan followed her there, and the two began analyzing Twilight’s papers. Meanwhile, Rarity and Applejack sat on the other side of the library; the former inspecting her hooves while the latter admired the new framework the library was given. “So Applejack,” began Rarity suddenly, taking her eyes off her hoof. “How are things at the farm? You’re not pushing yourself too hard are you?” “Work’s always hard, Rares,” answered Applejack with a chuckle. “Got bills tah pay, and whatnot. You know how it is.” “Don’t I ever! I spent so much time working on Luna’s dress that I fell behind on all my orders.” The alabaster mare sighed dramatically and placed her hoof on her forehead. “I suppose many sleepless nights await me. And I didn’t even get to give her the stupid thing.” “Well, you know, if yer havin’ trouble keepin’ up with yer orders ah’d be more than happy tah head over there and help.” Rarity gave Applejack an amused smirk. “You, darling? Helping me at the boutique? Who are you and what have you done with real Applejack?” The unicorn gave a very lady-like giggle while Applejack just chuckled nervously. “Oh I expected Rainbow Dash to volunteer to model for be before you would ever offer to help me at the shop.” “What? Ah can’t help a friend in need now?” snapped Applejack defensively. “Oh no no no, I didn’t mean anything by it,” assured Rarity. “Quite the opposite, I’m thrilled that you would offer. But there’s no need to trouble yourself, darling. I’ll find a way to manage. Besides, you shouldn’t take time off working on your farm when there’s so much work to be done.” Oh, right. The farm, thought Applejack, disillusioned. In her haste to offer to help Rarity, she had completely forgotten about the farm. “If you say so.” The two continued to talk about their work, eventually moving on to the topic of their little sister. It was one of the few topics they could relate to each other. Eventually the conversation descended into complaining about their sibling’s mishaps, which provided some good laughs. Meanwhile, Twilight and Jorge continued discussing humanity and its culture. Everyone was so engrossed in their respective conversations that no one seemed to notice a voice crying out ‘I FOUND IT!’ from upstairs. Spike climbed downstairs quickly. Peewee was resting on his head, and he was holding four blue spheres in his claws. He paused when he noticed Jorge and Applejack in the room, and was about to say something but decided against it. More people to impress, I guess. He skipped to where Rarity was sitting with Applejack. The unicorn laughed at one of Applejack’s jokes, and the noise sounded like angelic music to the dragon’s ears. This is it. Time to win my love’s heart. The dragon cleared his throat to try and get the mare’s attention. Much to his annoyance, it didn’t work. “Uh…hey Rarity, I wanna show you something.” The unicorn and earth pony turned to the dragon, who was giving them a toothy smile. “Oh sorry, I didn’t see you there Spikey-Wikey. What is it you want to show me?” Spike looked up to his phoenix companion. “Alright buddy, just like we practiced.” Peewee chirped in understanding, and Spike tossed two of the blue balls in the air. Using one claw, the dragon caught one, before tossing it back up to make space for the second, repeating the motion continuously and nimbly juggling the two balls. “Hey, look at that! Nice work, Spike,” praised Applejack. “My, that is very impressive,” cooed Rarity indulgently. “Well done.” She turned her attention back to the apple farmer. “Wait, I’m not done!” Spike quickly added a third ball to the fray, still using one claw to maintain all three in the air. He finally tossed the fourth and final orb, and began juggling the balls with both his claws. “Now Peewee!” Giving another happy chirp, the phoenix hatchling tucked his wings into his body before dropping into Spike’s claws. Peewee found himself being launched into the air along with the other balls as the baby dragon juggled all five objects. “Ta da!” announced Spike. “Yes, very nice, Spikey,” said Rarity airily, not bothering to look at the dragon’s antics. Applejack gave Spike a sympathetic frown. “But…but you’re not even looking,” muttered Spike as he struggled to keep the balls (and Peewee) under control. It proved a futile effort, as soon after the dragon began wobbling as he lost control. “Whoaoooa!” Spike tripped over his legs fell onto the ground (on his face). Peewee flew out of his claws as did the four blue spheres he was juggling. One of them suddenly lit up in an aura of blue light while flying through the air. All three balls landed on the back of Spike’s head and bounced off in random directions. The last one however, landed onto his head and stuck to it like glue, emitting a quiet *beep* as it did so. Spike groaned as he lifted his face from the ground. Seriously!? Why. Always. THE FACE!?! Rubbing his forehead, the dragon groaned a second time and stood up to brush himself off. “Are you okay, Spike?” asked Applejack with some concern. “Yeah, just dandy,” grumbled the dragon. I practiced that stupid trick for days, and I had to go blow it in front of Rarity. “Spike, you have something on your…” Rarity motioned to her head, turning her attention back to the dragon. “Huh?” Applejack narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized the pulsating ball of blue light that was stuck to the top of Spike’s head. “What is that thing?” she asked, pointing to the flickering light. “What thing!?” said Spike in a near panic. The dragon gasped and his eyes went wide with fear. “Is it a spider!? Get it off!” “No, it’s like some sort of…blue…light thing.” “A BLUE SPIDER!?! GET IT OFF!!!" Spike began flailing his claws around trying to get the ‘spider’ off his head. “Calm down!” ordered Applejack sternly. “It ain’t a spider!” “What are you yelling about!” screeched Twilight. She gave her friends a poisonous glare and made no effort to hide her displeasure. “We’re busy here.” Her look of irritation was quickly replaced with one of perplexity when she noticed the strange, glowing ball of light stuck to Spike’s head. Jorge looked over to the baby dragon, himself curious of what the ruckus was about. The moment his eyes caught what was on his head his heart skipped a beat. Wasting absolutely no time, the Spartan violently shoved Twilight out of the way and lunged towards the purple reptile. He was there in two steps, and he picked up Applejack and Rarity and flung them to the other side of the room where Twilight was lying. The ponies all yelped in protest at the human’s violent display, bewildered at the sudden outburst. The sight of the massive super-soldier barreling towards him left Spike ramrod stiff with fear, and he could so little more than stare at the human as he tossed the ponies out of his way. Jorge looked down at the dragon, who didn’t seem to notice that he had a deadly explosive attached to his head. Thinking fast, the Spartan picked up the tiny reptile in his massive hand, and pushed him up against the wall. Jorge pushed as much weight as he could on the dragon without hurting him; making sure to pin Spike in-between him and the book shelf. Before Spike could protest, Jorge bent forward on one knee, and brought his arm up over his head before essentially punching the ground. The Spartan was encased in a bright glow, forcing the dragon to squint lest he be blinded by the sudden blue light that radiated off the human’s armor. Small cracks of lightning formed around the light, and Spike could see that the thick glow formed some sort of layer over the metal. The dragon tried to wiggle out of his position, but he was stuck between the wall to his back, and the weird lightshow that occupied his entire vision. Jorge held his breath for what felt like an eternity. What’s going on? Why the hell hasn’t it gone off alrea- Before he could even finish his thought, his vision flashed with a bright, blue explosion. He and everything near him was engulfed in a sea of light and heat. Even through the armor lock, the soldier could still feel slight warmth on his shoulder where the blast was concentrated. The plasma fire tore through everything it touched, save for the Spartan’s armor, which shielded the rest of the library from its wrath. The books behind Spike almost immediately burst into flames, and the ensuing shock wave was enough to shake the library. Being so close to the blast, the Spartan was partly deafened in his right ear by the sharp noise that followed the explosion. Despite this, he was still able to hear the gasps and cries of horror from the mares on the other side of the room. Jorge waited a few seconds for his armor lock to drain before rising alongside the EMP blast. He didn’t move, and a suffocating silence quickly fell upon the room. The Spartan shut his eyes and gritted his teeth in frustration. God dammit! How did this happen!? He felt his body sag, and a familiar exhaustion oozed its way into him. I’m sorry, Spike...you bloody idiot… Jorge suddenly heard a painful groan from his right. His eyes shot open, and he quickly whipped around to where the blast had gone off. As he had suspected, most of the books on that part of the library had been torched, and there was a big, black scorch mark that ran up the walls. However, what he was not expecting to find was a relatively unscathed Spike. The dragon was completely unharmed, save for a few dark marks charred onto his scales. He was wobbling precariously, and his eyes looked like Ditzy’s. In short, he looked like he had been hit in the head. Jorge could almost imagine little birds flying circles around his head. “I want more… ice-cream…Twilight,” groaned the dragon dizzily before falling over (on his face) and moaning pitifully. “WHAT THE BUCK WAS THAT!?!” cried a voice behind the Spartan. Twilight, Applejack, and Rarity all charged to the baby dragon, their faces contorted in apprehension. “Oh Spike,” lamented Twilight. She gently picked up the dragon, whose tongue was lolling out lazily. “Why are there so many Peewees?” he giggled as he pointed airily in a random direction. “I say again: WHAT THE BUCK WAS THAT!?!” shouted Applejack. Jorge turned towards the purple unicorn. “Remember that explosive I told you I left in your basement…well that won’t be much of a problem anymore.” “Wait, did my ears deceive me or did you say ‘explosive?” asked Rarity. “Why in the world would you leave something like that in the library, never mind why you would be carrying it to begin with!?” “It was damaged! I’m not going to go around carrying a broken bomb with me now am I?” asked Jorge cheekily. “For all I knew it could have gone off on my way to dispose of it. Come to think of it actually, the fact it was broken probably have saved your life; must have screwed with the timer or something. That thing should have exploded a lot sooner, and if it had I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.” Rarity gulped and stared at the burnt wall where the grenade had gone off. “That doesn’t explain what happened to your armor though.” “That armor ability I was telling you at the party a few nights back? It’s called armor lock, and it’s what I just used to shield you guys from the blast.” A quiet groan brought everyone’s attention back to the limp dragon in Twilight’s legs. “Is he going to be alright?” “He should be fine,” assured Twilight, though not without a hint of concern still in her eyes. “Dragon scales are tough. They can take remarkable amounts of damage without even getting a scratch…” Evidently, thought Jorge as he examined Spikes scales with amazement. That blast would have ripped through my armor. “…he’s just a little disoriented. He’ll be fine in a second or two.” True to Twilight’s word, Spike coughed and his eyes focused as he brought a claw to his head. “Uh…my head’s killing me,” he moaned. “Oh Spikey!” Rarity lunged forward and snatched the baby dragon away from Twilight, subjecting him to a tight hug. “I was so worried about you, I’m glad you’re alright.” The mare began peppering the poor dragon with quick kisses on his cheek. Jorge was pretty sure that that was doing more damage to the kid than the grenade, judging from the way his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. Though, if the positively stupid grin Spike was wearing was any indication, he was probably enjoying it. Worked like a charm, thought Spike slyly as he basked in Rarity’s warmth. I should have learned juggling sooner! “MY BOOKS!!!” Everyone turned their attention away from the burnt dragon and towards the source of the cry. Twilight was kneeling in front of the burnt bookshelf, a look of a mixture between disbelief and sorrow on her features. Her jaw was practically grazing the floor. Dozens and dozens of books were smoking as their embers puttered out and died. ‘Books’ was probably not the best term for them anymore, seeing as how they had become blocks of ash. “The…t-the…” stammered Twilight. She began stuttering incoherently as she picked up the nearest tome and began caressing it like a small child. The book quickly disintegrated into a pile of cinders in her hooves, and her lower lip began to tremble. “Twilight darling, it’s alright. They were just books.” The moment the words left Rarity’s mouth everyone in the library, minus Jorge, winced. Rarity herself performed a facehoof. How could you say that!? She thought to herself in exasperation. Did you learn nothing from Pinkie Pie’s party preparation predicament!?! Before she could congratulate herself on her clever use of alliteration, Rarity was rendered mute by Twilight’s sudden giggling. Everyone agreed that it was the creepiest damn thing they had ever heard. Twilight slowly rotated her head to face the alabaster unicorn, almost turning her head a full one-eighty degrees without moving her body. Her right eye was twitching madly, her pupils were shrunk, her smile was deranged, and she carried the typical look that a serial killer donned before going on a rampage…so basically it was nothing Rarity wasn’t used to. Unfortunately, this did not dispel the sense of dread that clawed at the dressmaker’s chest. Everyone, including Jorge, took a nervous step away from the lavender mare. Spike was even preparing to head into the kitchen to get a frying pan. “Just a book?” giggled Twilight. “JUST. A. BOOK!?!” She took a deep breath, ready to go on a wild and insane rant, when she sighed and sagged her shoulder. “Yeah, I suppose your right,” conceded the unicorn. Everyone blinked, and waited for their brains to process what she just said. “Come again?” asked Rarity. “You’re right,” sighed Twilight. “They’re just books. I’m just glad nopony was hurt.” She gave everyone a weak smile. “I’ll find some way to replace them.” “Wow, Twilight,” said Rarity in shock. “That’s an awfully…er… sane attitude to have.” Twilight nodded, not really noticing what Rarity had said. “This is going to take forever to clean up though,” she sighed. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, sugarcube. We’ll help you out.” Twilight smiled faintly at her orange friend. “Thanks, Applejack.” The group spent the next hour helping Twilight clean up the mess that was her library. Jorge wasn’t particularly happy about the arrangement, but figured that it was the least he could do considering it had been his grenade. Applejack used a broom to sweep up the remains of the literature, while the Spartan scavenged through the burnt wood to find any books that he could salvage. Rarity meanwhile comforted Twilight, who looked like she was about to cry (she in fact did cry briefly when they found her favorite Daring Doo book among the ‘casualties’ as she put it). Halfway through the cleaning up, the wooden shelves (and with it half the wall), having been burnt to a crisp by the grenade’s heat, collapsed in on itself. This resulted in another half hour of cleaning. Eventually, once everything had been sorted out, Applejack and Jorge excused themselves, leaving Rarity to continue tending to Twilight. The sun was dipping under the horizon, washing the sky in a hue of orange and pink. They quickly left the village and headed back to their respective homes. “Hey Jorge, can I ask you something?” queried Applejack as they walked side by side. “Again? Sure, go ahead.” “Have you ever gone a day without wreckin’ somethin’?” Jorge put a finger on the chin of his helmet as pretended to think about the question. “Not than I can think of, but then again it was my job where I come from.” “Yer job was tah wreck stuff?” asked the cowpony incredulously. “To grossly oversimplify it: yes.” “Huh…hey, Jorge?” “Yes?” “When you get home, don’t ever quit your day-job. You’re really good at it.” The Spartan couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind. In all fairness though, I barely destroyed the library…this time.” Now it was Applejack’s turn to laugh. The two continued on their way, gradually leaving behind the village. Before long they arrived to a familiar fork in the road. “I suppose this is where we part ways,” said Jorge. “Yep, I gotta get back tah the farm soon. Promised Granny Smith I’d help her make supper tonight...” Applejack’s eye’s widened abruptly as she smacked herself in the face in frustration. “Shoot! Ah completely forgot. Ah was supposed tah bring this last bottle over tah Fluttershy’s today.” “Can’t you take it to her now?” Applejack shook her head. “She don’t live all that close. ‘Sides, I gotta get home fer supper now, it’s getting’ pretty late.” Suddenly an imaginary light-bulb lit up over Applejack’s head. “Hey Jorge…could you do me a favor.” The human’s eyes narrowed. “A favor, or a ‘favor’.” “A real favor. Fluttershy lives not too far from your cottage. Do you think you could take this tah her today and give me the bits tomorrow?” Jorge scrutinized the pony. His faceless, orange visor reflecting her smile as she waited for a response. “Fine,” he finally grumbled. “But I don’t know where she lives.” “Just continue down this road, and take a right on the first path that heads tah the forest, you can’t miss it,” explained Applejack as she handed him the bottle. He made sure to hold it gently to make sure he didn’t break it. “I really appreciate this.” “Well then, goodbye,” mumbled the Spartan. “Goodbye. Oh and listen, Jorge. Uh…I just wanted tah say thanks…again. Fer, you know, forgiving me and such. I was acting like a real pain in the flank…well I guess we all were.” Applejack put her hoof on Jorge’s leg and gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll get back home someday, I feel it.” Jorge looked down at the pony in front of him. Her emerald eyes were sincere and filled with warmth. Giving her a curt nod, the Spartan turned away from Applejack and headed to where Fluttershy’s cottage was supposed to be. “Oh, and one more thing,” called out Applejack to the rapidly departing human. “Fluttershy’s cottage is near the Everfree, so watch out fer any nasty critters that hang around there.” Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. The human soon arrived to the trail Applejack mentioned, and took a right. Before long, trees began appearing on the side of the road as the human neared the forest. Forest creatures poked out of branches and bushes to glance curiously at the alien creature stomping through their domain, but Jorge paid them no head. He quickly arrived to a clearing, and looked up to see Fluttershy’s cottage. And he thought Lyra and Bon-Bon’s home looked whimsical. The cottage was a small dome with windows sticking out of the roof like warts. The roof itself was entirely covered in the greenest grass Jorge had ever seen, and the walls looked like were made of some sort of adobe. Flowers ran along the curved path up to the house, and strangest of all, bird houses populated every single tree surrounding the house. Jorge crossed a short, arched bridge that rested over a small creak, and climbed up the path to the red front-door of the cottage. He knocked on the wood, and heard a commotion inside. The bottom half of the door opened to reveal a canary yellow pegasus with a pink mane and teal eyes. As soon as Fluttershy opened her door and saw Jorge, she squeaked loudly and jumped back inside (which the Spartan couldn’t help but find absolutely adorable). “Oh, h-hello, Jorge” greeted Fluttershy shakily. “I-I wasn’t expecting y-you. Um…h-how can I h-help you?” “Actually I’m just here to give you this.” Jorge presented the bottle to Fluttershy, who immediately perked up. “Oh thank you!” she whispered (loudly). “Um…I thought Applejack was going to bring it…n-not that I mind you coming! I-it’s just that-” “Calm down, Fluttershy,” chuckled Jorge. “Applejack couldn’t come, so she asked me to bring this for you instead.” “Oh um, okay. Come in and I’ll get you the bits…if that’s all right with you?” Jorge spread his hand forward in a ‘go ahead’ motion, and followed Fluttershy into her home, making sure to bend over when going through the doorway as usual. The interior of Fluttershy’s cottage was simple. There was no extravagant furniture, or even any gaudy décor. It was all very rustic, with humble wooden chairs and tables making up the bulk of the furniture. There was even a stone oven built into the wall, further reinforcing the rural aesthetic that the house had going on. The only things that really caught Jorge’s attention were the small stairs that ran all along the house. They seemed designed for small creatures rather than a pony. As if to confirm Jorge’s suspicion, a small, grey field mouse poked its head out of a hole in the wall, and scurried up one of the tiny ladders. “Would you like some tea?” offered Fluttershy as she took the bottle and brought it into the kitchen. “That would be lovely, thank you. You never struck me as the type to drink wine.” “It’s not for me,” explained Fluttershy as she handed him a hoof-full of bits.” It’s for Angel. I just use it sometimes to cook.” Angel? “Please, sit down,” offered Fluttershy as she motioned to her couch. Suddenly becoming very self-conscious, she hid her face behind her pink bangs and looked away bashfully. “Um…if you want to.” “Uh…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Jorge. “I don’t want to crush your furniture.” Fluttershy shook her head. “Oh no, don’t worry about that. It’s very strong; it’s out of Ferrum wood from the Everfree.” Looking at the furniture uncertainly, the Spartan slowly lowered himself onto the couch. He was surprised to find that it held his weight without any problem. “What kind of tea would you like?” Jorge removed his helmet and gave Fluttershy a warm smile. “Anything is fine, thank you.” The pegasus returned the gesture and fluttered into the kitchen. Jorge waited patiently until he heard a whistle from the kitchen. Before long, Fluttershy returned holding two steaming mugs. She sat herself in front of Jorge and handed him his tea. The Spartan took a long, deep breath, taking in the aroma of the brew. Cautiously so as to not burn himself, he sipped the beverage and tasted peppermint. “Do you like it?” asked Fluttershy nervously. “It’s delicious,” answered Jorge sincerely. Say what you will of the little, yellow pegasus, but she sure knows her tea. Before Fluttershy could say anything, the field mouse Jorge saw earlier rushed through one of the many holes in walls. He scurried up to the timid mare, stood on his back legs, and began squeaking wildly while making frantic gestures. Much to Jorge’s amazement, Fluttershy actually seemed to understand what the mouse was saying. “Oh no!” squeaked Fluttershy. “Tell them I’ll be right there.” She turned to face the human with a worried look. “I’m sorry, Jorge. But I have to go. Some of the critters down by the pond need my help.” The mare rushed upstairs and quickly returned with a saddlebag strapped to her haunches. “I didn’t know you were a vet.” “I’m not,” giggled Fluttershy bashfully. “I just like taking care of animals.” Jorge snorted as he eyed the many dozen bird houses that lined the walls. I can see that. “I’ll be back in a little bit,” assured Fluttershy as she hurried out the door. “Just make yourself comfortable, and try not to sit on Angel’s side of the couch.” And with that the pegasus followed the hurried field mouse out of her home, leaving Jorge on his own. “Who’s Angel?” Jorge’s question was immediately answered when he felt his face get smacked by a flying carrot. The Spartan looked down to the source of the surface-to-air vegetable and saw a tiny, white bunny rabbit. The rabbit was tapping his foot impatiently, and to Jorge’s amazement looked like he was glaring at him. “Uh…yes?” asked Jorge, feeling unbelievably silly for talking to a rabbit. Amazingly, the rabbit understood what he was saying. The rodent began waving his paws frantically, motioning his finger over his head in a circular motion as if gesturing a halo, and then flapping his arms frantically. Jorge caught on immediately. “So you’re ‘Angel’?” The rabbit nodded and continued to glare at the human. Angel pointed to the couch, then to the human, then to the floor, before crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. “Am I sitting on your spot?” The rabbit nodded again. “Sorry,” muttered the human. “Here…” Jorge moved over, leaving space for the bunny. He didn’t know what else to do; his mind was still reeling from how surreal the situation was. This unfortunately did not placate the rabbit. He shook his head furiously, and point at Jorge and the floor again. “You want me to get off the couch?” asked Jorge incredulously. Another nod. “That seems unreasonable. Look, I’m only taking up half the couch. There’s plenty of space here for you.” Angel shook his head before repeating his gestures. “I’m not getting off,” stated Jorge matter-of-factly. He could have sworn that Angel growled. Fury burned in the little rabbit’s dark eyes. Angel pointed to Jorge again, this time more forcefully, before pointing back to the floor with a look that said ‘this is your last chance.’ Jorge shook his head. Angel pulled another carrot seemingly out of nowhere and chucked it at Jorge. The movement was so sudden that the human couldn’t react before being hit in the head by the vegetable with surprising force. The soldier grunted in surprise, before scowling at the rabbit. “Look,” he growled. “I’ve tried to be civil about this, but you’ve insisted on being an unreasonable pest. I. Am. Not. Moving. So you can either come to terms with that and sit on the free side of the bloody couch, or you can screw off.” Angel narrowed his eyes, and the two stared daggers at each other. Lightning seemed to shoot between the behemoth and the tiny rabbit as they each tried to smolder the other with their glares. Suddenly, Angel used his powerful legs to hop towards Jorge. While in mid-air, the rabbit kicked Jorge’s tea cup out of his hands, sending the scalding liquid into the human’s face. “SON OF A BITCH!!!” roared the Spartan as he reared back clutching his face. The tea burned his exposed skin, and he was temporarily blinded as he stumbled clumsily over the couch, knocking it over. “Mother-fucking rat!” Jorge rubbed his burnt face clear of tea, which had turned red from the heat of the drink. The soldier’s face was contorted with pure rage. He snorted furiously, sending some stray drops of the drink flying off his moustache and onto the floor. “Where are you, you little shit?” he growled as his eyes roamed the room for the rabbit. Angel had scurried away shortly after burning Jorge. Another carrot hit him across the cheek, answering his question. The Spartan whipped around and saw Angel standing on the staircase, clutching another carrot in its paw. Jorge lunged at the rabbit, but Angel was too agile and hopped between his legs, avoiding the behemoth’s grasp. Jorge turned around to try and catch the bunny, but lost sight of him again. Angel scurried along the floor of the cottage, weaving in between furniture and the giant’s massive legs. The clever rabbit climbed up one of the wooden ladders put in place for the mice, and hopped onto a lamp which hung directly over the floor from the ceiling. The lamp swung preciously over Jorge, who was still trying to find Angel. The bunny looked down at the human with contempt, before loosening one of the screws that held the lamp in place. The lamp fell through the air, carrying Angel with it and hitting Jorge square in the back of the head. The Spartan howled in pain, the lamp having hit him straight on the wound he had gotten at Sugarcube Corner. The cut was reopened, and blood poured feely down the back of his neck. “Bloody hell,” growled Jorge as he dabbed his fingers on the wound, only to find them sticky with blood. “That’s it.” He grabbed the hilt of his combat knife and slipped it out menacingly. Angel, who was watching from one of the bookshelves, gulped and folded his ears back in sudden fear at the sight of the enormous knife. “I’m going to skin you alive, you little, white vermin.” “I told you before, Mr. Manticore. If you’re ever hungry, then ask me for some more food. Now apologize to Chickpea." Fluttershy was in a meadow near the Everfree forest. She was standing in front of an enormous manticore and a very upset rooster. The pegasus had been called because the manticore had wandered out of the forest looking for a snack, and had attacked one of her chickens. The manticore turned to the rooster bashfully, and gave a very meek growl. The rooster chirped furiously in response. “Now don’t be like that, Chickpea. He said he was sorry. Accept his apology.” The rooster turned his beak up furiously and refused to acknowledge the giant feline. Fluttershy narrowed her eyes at the rebellious bird, which gulped nervously. Having been subjected to the dreaded ‘Stare’ on more than one occasion, the rooster ultimately decided to comply and accepted the manticore’s apology. Fluttershy smiled in satisfaction, before sending the two on their way. The yellow mare made her way back to the cottage, rehearsing her apology to Jorge for having to abandoned the human so abruptly (so far, it was only ten minutes long). As she crossed the bridge to her home however, she heard a loud crash come from inside. “Oh my,” gasped the pegasus. More crashes, and the sound of china breaking emanated from her cottage. Despite her fear, Fluttershy rushed to open to the front door. What she saw left her speechless. Her cottage was a mess; furniture was overturned, and the floor was littered with shards of broken vases and plates. Jorge was standing in the middle of the chaos, the back of his head caked with blood, and a furious expression on his face. He clutched Angel in his massive hand, and held his combat knife up to the rabbit’s neck. Angel, to his credit, seemed as resilient as ever whilst he clutched a carrot in his one free paw and threatened to throw it at the soldier’s face. The two heard the door open, and turned simultaneously to see a wide eyed Fluttershy staring at them in shock. “Uh…w-w-what’s going on?” she asked with a slight quiver in her voice. Jorge froze. He had absolutely no idea what to say. What can you say when your caught holding a combat knife against the neck of someone’s pet? The human’s predicament was fortunately solved when the little bunny rabbit in his iron grip began squeaking and gesturing frantically with his one free paw. Fluttershy gave the rodent a curious look. “You were…playing?” Jorge stared at the pony incredulously. Angel shot him a look that seemed to say ‘just go with it.’ Angel wasn’t stupid, far from it. He knew that if Fluttershy figured out what really happened he would be the one getting ‘The Stare,’ not the human. Not sure what else to do, the Spartan decided to play along. “Yes,” deadpanned Jorge, unable to muster the enthusiasm to follow through with such a ridiculous explanation. “We were just playing. Right, Angel?” The bunny nodded. Fluttershy looked back and forth between the two in bewilderment. She clearly was not convinced. “Then…w-why i-is Jorge holding h-h-his knife?” The pegasus eyed the weapon with appreciation. Angel squeaked again and continued gesticulating. After a few minutes of this, Fluttershy smiled warmly and beamed at the pair. “Oh that’s…nice,” she whispered. Jorge shot the bunny a baffled look. How the hell did he talk his way out of that? Come to think of it, how the hell does she understand him? “I’ll be right back,” announced Fluttershy. “I’m just going to leave these things upstairs.” The mare climbed up the stairs, leaving the rabbit and the human on their own. Jorge returned to glaring at the bunny in his grip. “Truce?” offered the human diplomatically. In response, Angel threw his carrot at the human’s face. “Thought as much,” growled Jorge. He made his way to the front door and outside the cottage with the rabbit still in his hand. Once they were standing out of the house, Jorge brought Angel up to his face. “Now, I’m going to be nice and not skin you alive to make a pair of slippers…yet. But you really need a time out.” Angel stuck his tongue out at the human, and made a rude gesture with his one free hand. “Yeah, laugh it up, rodent.” Jorge dropped the bunny and lashed out at him with his foot while Angel was in midair, effectively punting the rabbit and sending him flying forward a few dozen meters. Angel hit the bridge leading to Fluttershy’s cottage (on his face). He peeled himself off the road, and began squeaking frantically at the human. Jorge assumed were some particularly vulgar insults judging from the motions he was making with his paws. The human snorted in satisfaction before returning inside and closing the door behind him. Fluttershy returned shortly after, free of her saddlebags. “Oh, where’s Angel?” she asked. “He went out…mentioned something about getting some fresh air,” muttered the Spartan. He heard a *crunch* from under him, and lifted his foot to find the remains of a plate under it. “Sorry about your house.” Dammit. Applejack’s right, can’t you visit one person in this bloody world without destroying their home? “It’s no problem,” replied Fluttershy with a smile. “I’m used to it what with all the little critters. I’ll just ask Twilight to use her nifty spell of hers to fix it right up. Oh sorry…um… would you like anything else….sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” “No thank you, Fluttershy. There’s no need to apologize.” The human sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I think it’d rather just go back to my house. It’s been a hectic day.” Jorge made to grab for his helmet and head back to his clock tower. Fluttershy gasped in shock. “You’re bleeding!?” The back of Jorge’s head was soaked with blood. Most of it had long since dried into a black crust, but some crimson still oozed out of his head wound. “I’ll take care of that when I get home.” “B-b-but it might get infected! Hold on, I’ll get my first-aid kit.” “Please Fluttershy, it’s alright. I’ll be fine, no need to trouble yourself.” “No! I’m not letting you leave this house until you let me treat you. Now sit down right now!” ordered the mare sternly. Jorge blinked. He had never heard the pegasus be so forceful before (or so loud come to think of it). The effect was somewhat diminished when Fluttershy wilted. “If it’s alright with you,” she whispered. Jorge raised his palms in a defensive gesture. Picking up the couch and setting it back on its legs, the Spartan sat down. Fluttershy fluttered over to the human and immediately began examining the back of his head. “There’s a dirty bandage here.” “I got cut earlier today and Applejack patched it up. Must have reopened when me and Angel were…roughhousing.” Fluttershy nodded sympathetically. “He can be a bit of a hoof-full sometimes.” You have no idea. Fluttershy proceeded to remove the old bandage and clean the wound. Jorge was amazed with how gentle she was. Unlike Applejack, who was a tad rough when she haphazardly slapped on the bandage, Fluttershy took her time. Careful not to hurt the Spartan, her gentle hooves ran along her neck, almost massaging it as she cleaned the dried blood and eliciting a relaxed sigh from the human. “You’re very good at this,” said the Spartan. “Thank you. I’ve had a lot of practice with all the little critters who come to me for help. Oh…I-I’m not h-hurting you, am I?” “No. You’re doing great Fluttershy. Besides, I’m used to pain.” Fluttershy frowned at that. “Is that where you got your scar?” The mare’s eyes widened. “Oh I-I’m so s-s-sorry! I didn’t m-mean to p-pry, it just s-slipped o-out! P-please d-do-” “Fluttershy, calm down. I’m not upset,” soothed Jorge gently. “You mean the one on my eye.” “Um…yes.” “ It’s…not a nice story,” murmured the soldier as buried memories slowly began to resurface. “Oh…I’m sorry.” Fluttershy bit her lip anxiously. She felt a morbid curiosity burn in her. “Um…w-why a-a-are you…um…why are you used t-to…uh…” “Pain?” finished Jorge. Jorge felt her mane bobbing against his head, making him suspect that she was nodding. The soldier said nothing; he was lost in thought. “I come from a very nasty universe,” he muttered finally. “It’s…hard living there…it’s a scary place.” “Then why would you want to g-go back?” A million answers shot through the Soldier’s head: I have to fight. I need to protect my people. It’s my duty. It’s my home. “I have to.” The soldier said no more, and a silence fell upon the cottage. After a few minutes of totally stillness, Jorge suddenly felt something furry warp around his neck and something press up against his cheek. Fluttershy was hugging him. Jorge was at a loss for words. He stiffened, not sure how to react. He tried wiggling away, but the pegasus just tightened her embrace. Finally, Jorge lifted up his hand, and squeezed one of Fluttershy’s hooves gently. The two stayed life that for what felt like hours, neither of them even daring to breath as Fluttershy tried to pour all her compassion into that simple gesture. Eventually, Fluttershy reluctantly slid away. Jorge stood up, and felt the back of his head to find that it had been bandaged again. He turned around to face Fluttershy, who was giving him a bitter-sweet smile. “Thank you, Fluttershy,” said the Spartan quietly. “Oh, it’s my pleasure.” The Spartan picked up his helmet and walked out the front door of the cottage. “Goodbye.” “Goodbye, Jorge. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The soldier paused. He turned around and flashed the pegasus a gentle grin. “Yes, I suppose I will.” Jorge slipped on his helmet and left the cottage behind him. Crossing over the bridge, he wandered through the cluster of trees and headed back to his own house for some much needed rest. Only one thought passed through his head as he marched: I hope I don’t bump into that bloody rabbit on my way back . The air was cold. That was the most apt description anyone could give the air of Canterlot: cold. It was understandable given the altitude at which the city rested, but that made it no less uncomfortable, and as Celestia stood on the balcony of her room she found herself wishing that it could be anything but cold. A particularly powerful gust of wind came crashing against the castle, biting the alicorn’s fur, causing her to shiver. Her horn began to ignite in a golden glow, and soon she felt the warmth of the Sun wash across her body. Being the Goddess of the Sun had its perks. Celestia sighed wearily, and leaned against the railing of her balcony. She looked down to the city of Canterlot. Once dubbed the city of Goddesses, the urban landscape twinkled as thousands of lights came together to form its own earthbound night sky, mirroring the sea of glittering stars that rested above it. Even in the night the marble architecture seemed to practically glow. Despite the beauty of the city, Celestia always found the nickname a little overdramatic. Obnoxious even, considering it was the city’s residence who dubbed it that way. Celestia sighed again and rested her cheek on her hoof. “Tired are we, dear sister?” The white alicorn smiled. “Hello Luna,” she greeted without turning around. Luna cantered up to her older sibling and leaned on the railing next to her. “Long day I take it?” “Very much so. How about you?” “Oh as tired as one can be when one has to travel half-way around the country in less than an hour,” answered Luna with a small hint of irritation in her voice. Celestia rolled her eyes, and gave her sister a motherly smile. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a tad?” “Fine,” huffed the Moon Princess childishly. “But even so, Ponyville is not exactly a stone’s throw away. Thou could have given us more warning next time thou request an audience with us.” Celestia smirked in amusement at her sister. “Lulu, you’re slipping again.” Luna paused and blinked before scowling in frustration. “So much for an almost perfect week,” she grumbled. “There, there,” said Celestia as she wrapped a wing around her sister comfortingly. “You’re doing marvelously. Especially considering you’ve only had a few lessons.” “Still Tia, it’s a reminder,” sighed the blue alicorn sadly. “A reminder that I’m out of touch. That I’m foreign and alien. It’s nice to be able to scare ponies on Nightmare Night, but on any other day it’s just…frustrating.” Celestia frowned with concern. “Who says they’re scared of you?” “Tia, all your guards start quaking like frightened foals when I’m around.” “That’s not true. Why, I recalled overhearing a few of my guards the other day discussing what a shapely and voluptuous flank you had. They spoke very highly of it.” Luna blushed furiously and gapped at her sister in shock. “TIA!” “You’re not the only one who can make others blush, Lulu,” Celestia chuckled lecherously. Luna gave her sister an annoyed whip of her tail and snorted. “So…all joking aside…are they coming?” Celestia sighed once more. She suddenly felt very weary, as if her age suddenly crashed down on her. “Yes, they are coming.” A beat. “Is she coming?” “Yes, they are coming, Luna.” “That doesn’t answer my question. Is she coming?” Another beat. “Yes.” Luna hummed pensively. “Our dearest niece and her husband will not be happy. I still do not understand why you are so ready to forgive her.” “Luna, the peace treaty was signed over a year ago. It’s time we bury the hatchet. Besides, it’s not her I’m worried about…” Celestia looked up at her sister’s night sky. “…It’s how they may react to our guest that concerns me .”