Even Stranger

by SaltyJustice


Chapter 8

Thorax awoke at the crack of noon, his sleep disturbed by the sun's eternal quest through the sky. Octavia's house had a skylight in it, as the morning rays of the sun had evidently been insufficient to wake him. He was unused to it, the sun. What a strange device the ponies had. According to his astronomy classes, it was a great ball of hot plasma, thousands of times larger than their own planet and millions of kilometers away in space, yet somehow the ponies had built it. Otherwise, how would their Princess Celestia have been able to move it around? Perhaps she had found the owner's manual somewhere.
His stomach growled, he had not eaten since Dusty Dries the day previous. Could he borrow some hay from his new benefactors?
"Hey there handsome. Finally awake are you?" Vinyl asked, her head having poked around the corner between their kitchen and living room.
"Indeed. I've seen you before," Thorax said.
"Really? Are you a fan?"
"I saw you talking to Octavia yesterday. Are you part of a collective?"
"Yeah, this house. We're roommates. I own the place."
"Then it is you I owe for these accommodations and security."
Vinyl paused.
"Where did you say you were from again?"
Thorax had his answer ready this time.
"I am from mid-town Canterlot."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Vinyl said. That explained everything, his accent, his weird speech patterns, how confused he always seemed. Anypony who had ever visited mid-town Canterlot would have hastened to agree with her.
Thorax looked around, and not seeing his associate, proceeded to push past Vinyl and travel into the kitchen. Octavia was not there either. Vinyl's eyes followed Thorax's movements, he was evidently prone to simply breaking off in mid-conversation to do whatever he wanted. A rebel!
"Where is Miss Melody?" Thorax asked.
"She went grocery shopping, said you need to go catch up with her at Sugarcube Corner. It's down the road a ways, look for the house that's made of candy."
"I will find the candy house."
"Hist? Could I - "
Thorax ignored Vinyl's request and left, closing the door a bit harder than she was used to. It was as if he didn't even care about anything, the way he carried himself. A pang of envy for Octavia hit unexpectedly, she would need to drown it out with some good-old dubstep.

"Sugarcube corner? It's that building right there," the polite mare answered at Thorax's request.
"You are a charmer," he said. That was a pony compliment, he had heard Octavia say it about him the day previous.
"Oh my, thank you!" the mare said. She seemed uncomfortable and left him alone after that.
The door at the Sugarcube house had some sort of bell attached to it, when he entered it let out a loud ring. Thorax jumped and prepared for an ambush, but none was forthcoming - not immediately. There were two ponies in the room, who both looked at him expectantly.
"... and there he is. This is my friend - "
"You!"
Octavia had been trying to introduce him to this new pink pony when she had vaulted the counter and charged him. Thorax prepared himself for battle. He had tripped their alarm system and would now need to contend with the guards before he made his escape. Fortunately, an Infiltrator has extensive combat training, and could vanquish a dozen ponies in straight combat.
Thorax began flailing wildly with his forehooves, delivering a hundred blows a minute. The pink pony expertly parried every single attack, no doubt she was the finest warrior the ponies had to offer. In fact, she was not the slightest bit threatened by his barrage, and was grinning at him. She was clearly so battle-hardened that death bore no surprises for her. She was even singing a ferocious war tune.
"Patty cake, patty cake, bakers mare! Bake me a cake, I'll soon be there!"
At last, Thorax's forelegs had tired and he relented. The pink pony was gleefully giggling as Octavia looked on, baffled. Thorax wiped the sweat from his brow, ready for her counter attack, but it was not to come.
"I've never met a pony who can keep up with me at patty cake! You're good!" she said. Thorax noted she was not out of breath in the slightest.
"Ahem. Mr. Hist, this is my second-cousin, Pinkie Pie," Octavia said, taking advantage of the lull.
"Pleased to meet you!"
Pinkie charged forward and stopped at the last second as Thorax braced himself. She extended her hoof in front of her, waiting. Thorax suddenly remember what he was supposed to do in this situation.
"I am pleased to meet you!" he shouted, grabbing her hoof and shaking it as hard as he could, just as Spiracle had probably told him to. She giggled harder than before and smiled even more broadly.
After allowing enough time for the exchange to subside, Octavia prodded Pinkie.
"If I may, weren't you angry with him a moment ago?"
"Sure was. What kind of pony spends a whole day in town without introducing themselves!? A sour-pony, that's who."
Pinkie gave Thorax a suspicious look.
"But since he's a traveling patty cake master, I'll let it slide. This time."
"Yes, isn't that fascinating. Mister Hist, would you like anything from the bakery? Chances are, Pinkie baked it herself," Octavia asked, indicating the store's shelves with a wave of her foreleg. Thorax finally could take pride in the accomplishments of the changelings, their shelves were always fully packed, while these ponies had comparatively little here. Of course, the changelings back at the hive stocked hay, and only hay, but quantity surely counted for something.
"Ooooh, you should try these cinnamon buns! Everypony likes them! That means you like them too, even though you haven't had one yet! Try one - " Pinkie shouted, hefting a bun and brandishing it as if it were a weapon.
Thorax had barely any time to react before the bun had been rammed into his mouth. The flavour explosion was far less intense than the cease-her dressing; the bun itself tasted like ash, but the glazing on top was delicious. Spiracle had not mentioned the effects of cinnamon on his anatomy, perhaps there were more foods the ponies had like this?
"Pinkie, could you please not assault every pony that comes in here with baked goods? I'm amazed you have any customers, the way you carry on," Octavia chided.
"I told you, everypony likes these buns," Pinkie countered.
"That's not valid logic. If everypony liked jumping off a cliff, it wouldn't justify throwing me off of one, would it?"
The shop had suddenly somehow subtracted a pony. Thorax had blinked, and the pink pony was gone. Octavia did not seem to mind, though.
"Well Mr. Hist, I will be brief. I am going to be back in three minutes and thirty seconds. I will be terrified beyond belief. Would you like to accompany me home after that?"
"Where will you be going?"
"Bungee jumping."
Octavia directed his attention to the bungee cord now attached to her legs. It was rapidly running out of elasticity. Through the still open door, a distant cry of, "Rainbow Dash, Rainbow Dash! I need a favour!" could be heard echoing between the buildings.
The cord abruptly went taut and Octavia was sent careening out the door. As his training had (probably) stated, Thorax remained calm and did not react to the everyday happenstances of pony life. Another pony had appeared behind the counter, and was smiling at him.
"Hello there, dearie. 'Tavi said you'd be coming by. I take it you liked the cinnamon buns?" she asked.
"I did. May I fill out a form for some?"
The blue mare seemed off put for a moment, but then recovered.
"Oh that's right, 'Tavi said you were from mid-town. You know, I went to school with a mid-towner myself, best years of my life! Don't worry about it, son, we'll put it on 'Tavi's tab for you."
Thorax stepped out of the candy house with a tray of the buns balanced on his back. From around the corner, Octavia appeared, her mane and tail mussed and her eyes wide, pupils narrowed.
"Shall I - " Thorax began.
"I've seen the other side," 'Tavi said. Her expression remained grave, she was not focusing on him as she spoke.
"Other side of what?"
"Death. When we die, we go to another world. I saw it," Octavia muttered. "It looked just like this one, but it was upside-down. It flew up at me so fast, and then I was back here."
Thorax fought the urge to panic.
"Anyway, care to accompany me back home? Perhaps you could hold my bags like a gentlecolt?"
Octavia went back into the candy house and emerged with two saddle bags, both pink with a balloon pattern on them.
"Had to borrow these," she offered. Thorax put them on and walked Octavia back to her home, making small-talkings with her and seeming like a normal pony. She was certainly fooled, she laughed at things that he said at random and did not prod him for too much sensitive information. In his limited encounters with other ponies, they made small talks to each other, laughed at random, and did not ask sensitive questions, so clearly he was on the right track.

"Back already?" Vinyl asked, deliberately not taking off her headphones as she relaxed on the couch. Thorax was about to answer, but Octavia cut him off.
"She can't hear anything with those on. Just ignore her."
"I figured you two would be making out by now. Too scared to make a move, 'Tavi?" Vinyl said, continuing her imaginary conversation.
"See."
"Hah! Like you could afford one of those!"
Thorax and Octavia went into the kitchen. Vinyl kept talking to herself, her story getting more absurd with each unspoken word.
"So, Hist. Did your meeting with Ms. Sparkle go well the other night?"
"She wasn't there. I'm going back tonight."
"I see. I suppose that means - I - how shall I put this?"
Thorax took a seat by the table and put one of the cinnamon buns down. He stared at it, his stomach growling. He really needed to eat some Nectar, but not in front of a pony. Spiracle had been very clear on that.
"You want to help me spy on her?" Thorax asked.
"... Are you a voyeur, Mr. Hist?"
"Yeah." Thorax had no idea what a voyeur was, but Octavia's face was turning red.
"Oh my. Well, if that's what you like, certainly I'd like to come along."
Thorax was no longer interested in the subject of his work. He decided to change it.
"What's your task? As you can tell by my cutie mark, I am a chemist of some sort. What does that symbol on your flank mean?"
"This is a treble-clef, Mr. Hist. I take it you've never played an instrument?"
"No."
"Well, I'm a cellist. I recognize that a cello is usually notated with a bass clef..."
Thorax continued to stare blankly at her.
"... such complications are likely not something you are concerned with. Do you listen to music of any stripe, then?"
"No."
"Right. I suppose you've scarcely time for it, in - what do you do, yourself? You've said barely a word about your life before Ponyville."
Thorax relaxed. Spiracle hadn't really described how to do this, but he had come up with a plan late last night, as he was waiting to fall asleep. All the intricacies of his old life, with a few clever modifications, could serve as the intricacies of his new life. Octavia wouldn't suspect a thing.
"I used to sleep on top of a control panel at a chemical plant."
"I see. I had hoped it was something a little more - exciting."
"No. This is the most excitement I've ever had."
Octavia was blushing again. Thorax ignored it, blushing seemed to be something ponies just did of their own accord. Maybe it meant they had to relieve themselves.
"Oh, oh. I must - tell somepony! Er, would you please excuse me? I'll certainly meet you here at six, to go. Spying. Oh!"
Octavia dashed out the door. Vinyl appeared in the portal to the living room, shocked.
"'Tavi, I didn't mean it! I was just kidding!"
"What did you say? Thorax asked.
"What, you didn't hear? Pfft, some ponies," Vinyl said, putting her headphones back on and resuming her position in the living room.
Finally alone, Thorax prepared to apply some Nectar to the cinnamon bun. He scanned the windows leading into the kitchen to make sure nopony was watching, and delicately reached beneath the pony illusion he was casting, just as Spiracle had. The Nectar was still in its vial, tucked safely beneath his hidden wings. He pulled at the cork with his mouth when -
"Hey newbie! I remembered what I was gonna ask you!"
Vinyl had rounded the corner with no warning whatsoever. Thorax scrambled to hide the vial.
"Yes?"
"I heard you don't have a job yet. How about helping me out? They'll be some bits in it for you."
Bits? He needed those.
"I will assist you to the best of my abilities, honored officer. What must I do?"
"Follow me!"
This task sounded incredibly easy. Thorax wondered how many bits he would get.
Vinyl trotted outside and went around the side of the house. As Thorax followed, she returned, now bearing a stack of blue papers with her magic.
"Listen up, rookie. I've got a concert coming up next week, and you're going to help me get everypony pumped. Take these flyers and put one in every mailbox on the west side of town, and I'll give you twenty-five smackers."
"Are those interchangeable with bits?"
"They are literally bits, midtowner, the two words are synonymous! Whaddya say?" Vinyl asked eagerly.
"I will do it."
"Now that's what I like to hear!" Vinyl shouted. She then punched Thorax in the chest and plopped half of the stack of papers down in front of him. "Get to work! I'll take the east side, meet you back here when you're done."
This task was simple manual labour, to which Thorax was readily accustomed. When he was not monitoring the pH levels, he was typically cleaning the vats or moving and replacing pipes. His body was fit and capable, and he would show these ponies what a true changeling labourer could do!
Many of the ponies he passed gave him a look or two as he went by. They were rapidly acclimating, he reasoned, and would soon consider him to be 'one of them'. Once that happened, should any federal authorities intervene, he would be able to rally the townsfolk against the government. With a bit of luck, he could even topple it in a glorious revolution, and bring Equestria to its knees before his great Queen Chrysalis.
Thorax stopped as he walked, causing a pony behind him to shout and bump into him. She glared at him as he passed, but Thorax paid it no mind. Oh Queen Chrysalis. I have not thought of you in a full day, I am so sorry! he thought to himself.
He shook his head, he would need to remember to think of the Great Queen more often. His stomach growled again, and he went to the nearest mailbox and placed a flyer in. He did this again, and again, and again. His boredom grew, and there was only one thing to do when that happened.
Just behind you, don't you look!
It's the master spy, the master crook!
He knows it all, sight unseen,
undetectable, spy machine.

Thorax! Darkness is his cloak -
Thorax! His dagger is his smile -
Thorax! None can touch his dashing -
Thorax! None can match his style!

Who's that there, did you see?
Just a ghost, a memory.
Avenger of the night, hero of the hive!
Prisoner of passion, master of his drive.

He's comin', for youuuuuuuu! Thorax! Yeahhhheyeah yeah yeah! Thorax! Yeaaahhh!
"Don't you turn your back, on Thoraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaxxxxxxxxxx!"
The entire village went dead silent around him. Even the birds, incensed at his tone deafness, had ceased their singing. A hundred ponies stared, awestruck, their mouths agape. A pegasus pony overhead briefly forgot to flap and struggled to right himself, a dog sat nearby - not wagging its tail. A mare approached, bearing one of the pamphlets he had been delivering.
"Is there a problem with the papers?" Thorax asked.
"I'm only going to this if you're not."