//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Too Old For This Crap // Story: To Be Human // by Bastinator //------------------------------// Your finger traces the white tiles that line the wall, the smooth quality strangely different. Stone has a smooth texture as well but at the same time is somewhat rough against the skin, quite an unpleasant after-feeling thing. They should have a word to describe that. But this, you think as you work your finger into the grout that surrounds these tiles, this is… glossy. It doesn’t have that troublesome roughness that stone exudes, instead, leaving the skin cool and satisfied with its grace. *knock knock* You don’t turn even as the door opens, a unicorn entering behind you, at least, that is who should be entering. ”Mr. Anon?” the stallion asks as you continue to explore the folds of the tiled walls, “I’m Doctor Stable, how are we doing this afternoon?” “We? That is a strange question. While I am in full possession of my own status, am I to know of yours?” you ask, all without looking towards him. Ponies… It feels as if you may never understand them. You open the blinds and look out to the front of the hospital, an elderly mare being rolled out in a wheelchair. Twenty six. “I’ll see you soon,” you mutter quietly, the mare’s guardian helping her down the hill. ”What was that?” “And if I were to know,” you continue from your previous statement, “On what- On what scale, would I use to gauge how our collective-“ ”Sir, please, it was just a figure of speech. How are you doing then?” You pivot around with a smile as you finally acknowledge him. “Quite well.” ”Good,” he remarks, a slight dip in his voice as he shuts the door. Annoyance? Sarcasm? Contempt? Ponies are quite the mystery. They remind you of a present. You would run down… down what? What was it that you ran down with such- excitement? Hmm… ”Please,” he waves his hoof, ushering you to a chair, “Sit.” You nod, he is the professional after all. You move to the side of the room and unroll- this is quite the strange chair. Why does it roll? Sitting down you are immediately assaulted by a familiar joy, the likes of which you last experienced at Twilight’s abode, the feeling of joy as you attempt to keep still. “Wheels on chairs? Who came up with this idea?” you ask as you twist slightly, the doctor instead choosing not to join you by sitting in the main chair. ”That is, not your chair Anon. That is the doctor’s chair,” he clarifies before moving to your side, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind?” “A doctor’s chair,” you say matter-of-factly. “I quite like the sound of this item, though I must admit,” you roll to and fro while the doctor remains standing, “These wheels give it quite a childish feeling. Does it spin as- Oh! It does!” ”No, Anon, that is called a- a…” he pauses. Quite flustered he seems to be, “It’s a- rolly chair, I don’t know the technical term, but that is where the doctor sits. I am the doctor.” A doctor he is, but mortal he remains. “And this gives you power of me?” His traditional amber coat almost seems to glisten and redden under the light, a tricky thing that. The good doctor shakes strangely before exhaling deeply and adjusting his glasses, “It’s quite alright. He can sit in my chair if he wants. That’s okay,” his eyes lightly closed. Isn’t it strange that he addresses you with the word ‘he’ and not ‘you’? Why yes, yes it is, but then again, he is the professional. He takes a seat in what must be the ‘patient’s chair,’ or would it be the non-rolly chair? Static Chair? No, it doesn’t shock those who sit in it, that’s the electric chair. That one you know quite well… for some reason… ”Now what can I do for you today?” You look around the room before reaching across the counter and grabbing a jar filled with strange wooden sticks. ”Anon, please don’t touch those.” “Are they toxic, radiated, viral, cancerous, shocking or flammable?” You like how the glass feels in your hand, it even makes a delightful squeaking noise. ”Yes, they’re quite flammable now please put them back.” “Well then, it’s a good thing I don’t carry matches,” you attempt to twist open the cap only for him to snatch it from your hands. His horn dims as he places it back in its proper place, the emotion behind his glare quite undoubtedly one of annoyance. “That is quite rude.” ”As is grabbing things that don’t belong to you,” he snaps before glancing over his clipboard. Hmm, he certainly has a point. “You are most correct sir. I apologize for my behavior.” ”Apology accepted,” he sighs, “Now, what can I do for you today?” You glance back at the jar of sticks, a part of you dying to get your hands on them, but you came for a different reason. “There is a patient here I would like to speak to.” He furrows a brow, “That’s not technically my responsibility. The receptionists up at the front-” You shake your head, partially disappointed that he thought you wouldn’t have tried such a thing, even after they stopped you from just walking in. Really now, why would you stop such a formal person like you from walking down the hall that said Authorized Personnel Onl- Oh… Well that makes sense. “I did not know the patients name and thus was not allowed entry. I will be there with him in the end, whether I have your consent or not.” Doctor Stable doesn’t appear entirely convinced, “Was he- a friend of a friend or…?” “It is a complicated relationship. I would not wish to waste more of your time than I already have.” He taps his clipboard as he thinks it over, you inching over slowly but surely, rolling towards that tantalizing jar of sticks. ”Alright look,” you freeze with a smile. “I’m at wits end here. I’m scheduled for this appointment for another…” he checks his watch, “Twenty minutes. I get a break, you get escorted by my nurse. Fair enough?” A deal with death never ends well, but… there’s a certain look in his eye. Not a glimmer nor shade, but an emptiness. This isn’t his first run-in with death today. Who was it, you wonder? A girl, so young. An old stallion too weak to go on? It burdens his soul… “Yes, quite fair,” you nod and stand up, opening the door for him. ”Ms. Redheart?” he calls out and waves down the hall, a white mare trotting down next to you, “Would you please escort Mr. Anon to a patient? He’ll give you the details on the way.” ”Of course, Doctor Stable,” she looks to you with a light smile, “Right this way, sir.” The doctor takes the opposite path from you as you follow behind the nurse, a few more nurses and doctors moving about the hallway. ”So who is this patient that you’d like to see?” You pass by one set of doors after another, a small window allowing you to see through each one. Two hundred seventy seven. Three ninety one. Twenty two thousand ‘on the dot.’ “Is the hospital usually this empty? I would think it to be far busier considering the poor doctor’s previous encounter.” The mare turns to you in shock, “How do- How did you know?” “When one is surrounded by such a thing, it becomes increasingly trivial to discern it.” By the look on her face its clear she doesn’t understand. “I could see it in his eyes, so to speak.” His eyes, the way he snapped at the slightest provocation, the sweat. It is curious how you did not come to the conclusion earlier. Then again, when you have the entire picture, the pieces are as clear as day. Much like a puzzle. How you would… You scratch your head, almost able to picture it, only for the image to fade away. ”He’s been through a lot.” “Death leaves no hands clean.” Your hand finds its way to the wooden walls as you move along, “And we’re actually busier than normal. There was an accident at a construction site. Fi-” “Five injured. No deaths,” you cite coldly, “Not yet, at least.” You’re accustomed to more… tense atmospheres, a heavy air that almost chokes those that inhale it. It’s quite grand that you do not. ”Well, that’s why we’re busy, but anyways, what can you tell me about this friend of yours?” You would deviate from calling him a friend, but enough suspicions have been raised for one afternoon. “He’s a stallion, admitted three days ago with what appears to be head trauma. He is in poor condition.” The nurse nods, “Yes I know the patient, poor guy, but he’s actually doing quite well, expected to make a full recovery as a matter of fact.” That- is not correct. You saw the numbers clearly. Three days. No more, no less. Of course, your actions could’ve… “That’s very good,” you grin falsely, “I would much like to speak to him.” The nurse obliges your request as she leads you down another hallway and unlocks a door before you. You step inside, noting the chilled atmosphere, an unnatural cleanliness that you never found appealing. ”Mr. Page? You have a visitor.” Laying before you is the stallion whom you sought, his head bandaged expertly. To any other pony he would appear well, but numbers never lie to you. It is as it should be. “Who is it?” he asks groggily to the nurse, eyes closed. ”His name is Anonymous.” His eyes open, pupils dilating as they fix upon you, a lump forming in his throat as he tries to speak. Quite an odd behavior, but to be expected when one is so close to the end. You move to the side of his bed before swiveling around to the nurse. “Ms. Redheart, could you allow us some privacy?” ”I’m afraid I can’t.“ “Please ma’am, I must insist.” She glances between the two of you, your innocent smile doing well to convince her, “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” Nodding to her you face this ‘Mr. Page’ as the door clicks shut. “Howdy.” The stallion shivers as you look upon him, moisture building upon his face, “You- I saw you…” “Did you?” You’re actually rather surprised at this. “Well that is quite the development isn’t it?” You’ve heard of experiences such as these before, where one can almost see death’s face near the end, but never had you believed it. ”You were there- at the crash. Wha- What do you want?” Oh do you get to play this game again? It does grow tiring over the ages. You take a seat on the bed, savoring the feel of it. “I think we both know the answer to that.” His eyes shift to the button beside his bed, the word ‘Call’ written above it. With all his strength he rolls over and shoots a hoof towards it, but your hand meets forehoof, gripping tightly causing a whimper. “Now now Mr. Page,” you move his forehoof back down, “We wouldn’t be trying to escape, would we? Tell me, how do you expect to do such a thing, from me?” ”What are you?” his voice cracks as he rubs his freed hoof. “Curious.” You stand with your back to him and head over to the counter, grabbing another jar of these strange sticks. ”How do you know I’m not going to press that button?” “Because,” you struggle to open the jar, “No one wants to anger death.” You tighten your grip and twist but no matter how hard you do so it fails to open. “Confound this thing,” you grunt, shaking the jar towards him, “How do I obtain these flat sticks?” ”Tongue depressors?” A strange name for a flat stick. Does it have a secret tongue within it that is unseen? What an invention. “That is the name? How do I open this contraption?” He raises a brow, “You don’t know how to open a jar?” Your grin fades at his tone. “Is that disapproval I hear? Do you think me touched?” ”No no no,” he sinks back in his bed fearfully, “You- You have to push and twist.” Push and twist? That’s counter productive! He thinks to trick you, doesn’t he? “Do you take me for a fool now?” you follow his instructions regardless, “There is no way that this-” *pop* … “Well then…” You pluck one of these ‘tongue depressors’ out from the jar and return it to its resting place. Strangely thin, you notice, twirling it in your finger upon inspection. You hold it up to the light, disappointed that no such ‘tongue’ comes out of hiding, “What are you waiting for?” “Hmm?” you look back to him. ”That’s why you’re here isn’t it? To kill me? Just- do it…” “Mr. Page, I do not engage in that act unless necessary. I merely act as the guide,” you tuck the tongue depressor in your pocket, “Your end comes soon enough.” He shakes his head weakly, “No- The doctor’s said I was doing better. They told me-” “Have you experienced light headedness, dizziness? How about headaches?” All symptoms of what will be his end. “They said that was normal. I just- needed time to recover.” Now it is your turn to shake your head. “I am afraid not Mr. Page. You, are dying.” His breathe quickens as he strains to move off the bed, but you keep him seated. “It’s alright. Don’t fight it, you’ll only make it worse.” ”My head hurts… I can get the doctor and maybe-” he’s cut off by a grimace, an acute pain in the skull. “What is your name?” you ask, holding his hoof as he fights the pain. ”Bri- Bright Page.” You see why he never uses his first name. “Why do you keep fighting? We both know you can’t win, so why?” ”You’d never understand,” he swallows hard, “We- We fear death because of what comes after.” His eyes meet you, your touch numbing the pain as he slips away, “Pray- you never feel the same pain…” You set a second hand upon him, his body limp, eyes still locked to you. “Don’t fear what comes next,” you whisper, “For it is a place of no equal. A paradise I shall never venture.” Curious… the will of the living to resist death. You leave him and exit the room, the nurse’s grin fading at your expression. “He has passed.” ~~~ Internal bleeding can be a troublesome thing. It is unfortunate that he must have left, but a necessity as well. No one can change their fate, not alone. The doctors argued, nurses wept over another failure, two in one day. Only Nurse Redheart was suspicious of you, but the autopsy doesn’t lie. The hospital doors close behind you, the sun radiating- Wait, where’s the sun? You distinctly remember it shining quite intensely before you entered. Clouds. The pegasi appear to be covering the sky with them. This will not do at all, how are you to enjoy the rest of your day without the sun to brighten your way. Will not do at all you say. You make your way down the road and into town, ponies of all sorts packing up and closing shop with a spring in their step. A spring… these silly ponies. This place certainly gets dark without the sun’s rays, as well as a bit muggy. You must make your way to Rarity’s soon, lest you be late to pick up your ‘pajamas,’ though what they are is still a complete myst- *plop* “What in cerberus’s snout…” you mutter, wiping your forehead to reveal a new wet patch. “Rain?” This is what it feels like? It’s… quite pleasant. Another plop hits your cheek, the cool splash followed by another on your neck. “I think I like this feeling.” You stop just in front of Rarity’s boutique and spread your arms, all the while the rain picking up around you. Not literally of course, it’s just a figure of speech. It would be quite a remarkable feat if it did though, the laws of nature bending before your very eyes. Would be a spectacle in and of itself, but you digress… Not wanting to waste more time prancing about in the rain you knock on Rarity’s door, your clothes beginning to noticeably weigh you down. No answer? That’s odd, you don’t know where else she’d be. You knock again for good measure before pressing your face up against the glass, a move that you find strangely creepy. The main room looks relatively empty, save for fabrics and such, your eyes dwelling on those dreaded ‘mannequins’ by instinct. Now those are disturbingly similar. But still, no sign of Rarity or her pajamas. It’s not like you couldn’t simply slip inside to check, but what would be the end result? Should she have been there she would’ve answered, if not and you were to enter, you would be searching for ‘pajamas’ an item you haven’t the faintest clue of what it looks like. Tragic, you must do without then. Turning around you can barely make out Twilight’s tree house, library… thing. Adjusting your tie, you once again set out through the rain and vicious gusts of wind towards Twilight’s. After all, the ‘slumber party’ takes place there, so there you shall be. Lightning cracks above you, striking a far-off tree with a spear of light, a dazzling fire spawned in its place. Oh how you miss the crackle of fire. How it would spit and hiss like an organism all on its own. It did have a nasty habit of causing the screaming, ugh… You could never concentrate with that incessant squealing much like a banshee, only worse because you can’t banish them from existence. Good times… ~~~ “Alright, let us try this again…” *knock knock* You quite like the sound of that, the echo after you strike a firm surface. You do so again on the door’s frame, a lower thud resonating that time. Does the material make a different noise or is it the density? There is still so much to learn here. Before you can continue your prodding the door swings open and look who it is, “My word! Darling what are you doing out in that dreadful storm?” “Did we cancel the party?” you ask in surprise, “How else was I to reach you?” ”Well of course it isn’t cancelled, darling. Come on in, you are drenched.” Your shoes squelch against the mat beneath your feet, signs of mud entrenched within the surface. ”At least SOMEPONY decided to keep out of the ick and muk on his way over,” she calls out behind her, “You might as well take off those shoes… and that shirt….” By all means, you might as well take it all off. ”Actually dear, go ahead and take it all off. We don’t want you catching a nasty cold.” It’s as if she could read your mind… She grins as she silently stands there… watching… waiting… listening… I swear if you are reading my mind I will make you regret it. ”Come on then, don’t tell me you get shy in a crowd.” Good, at least she can’t read your mind… for now… “That would be incorrect madam Rarity,” you say slipping out of your shoes, followed by the strange sock garments. “However, I am sure that our host would allow me to use the restroom to dry up.” From the upstairs you can see Twilight peek over the edge, “Oh… Anon.” “Fine day we have, don’t we Ms. Twilight.” ”Yes. Fine,” the lack of hospitality behind her voice as clear as day. How you enjoy her attempts at intimidation. It’s cute, like a foal making demands of its mother. You see Applejack up there as well, “Howdy Anon! Glad ya could make it safe and sound. Certainly hope SOMEPONY didn’t give ya too hard of a time.” You’re sensing a theme here. ~~~ You excuse yourself and enter the restroom, as it is called for whatever reason. The last thing you do in here is rest. The first being the seemingly uncomfortable act of defecation. The memory still troubles you, the poor King of Rolls and Rocks. The image of him lying in a pool of his own vomit will forever be one of your all-time favorites. It’s not bad to have a favorites list, is it? No, of course not. How could you think such a thing? You take a towel off the rack and begin rubbing it against your clothing. Little by little the moisture is soaked up by the towel leaving your suit slightly damp, but not nearly the sagging mess that it was. This small piece of fabric is magic in its own right. You’re about to put it down when an idea crosses your mind. Listen… Good, now that you know Rainbow Dash won’t come crashing in at any moment… You bring the soaked center of the towel to your mouth and sink your teeth into the fabric. The individual fibers brush against the roof of your mouth in a most bizarre fashion. However the weirdest part has to be the flavor. It isn’t tasteless like normal, but it has its own taste all on its own. You continue to suckle for all its worth until the dry aftertaste sets in, causing you to smack your lips in disgust. “Absolutely horrid… but still,” you wrap your lips around another segment. ”Anon, you alright in there partne-“ Towel in mouth, you slowly turn to Applejack who’s about as shocked as you’d expect. Mouth agape, she waits for you to say something. “I do not think I can explain,” you reply honestly, though it would be easier to say if you took the towel out. In fact you do just that. “Well, how was your day?” She just shakes her head with a laugh, “You’d best be glad I ain’t so consnippity like Rarity. Just take your time. I’ll be right outside.” With that she closes the door, with you holding a saliva laden towel. That could’ve gone far worse… ~~~ The click of the door signals the three mares attention, Twilight being the only one whose smile doesn’t quite fit, “Took your time didn’t you?” And it took a whole five seconds before the first snide remark. You think you can put that down as a new record. ”You shouldn’t be so hard on him Twilight,” Rarity comes to your defense, “I admire a colt who takes his time to look presentable.” ”Oh sure, presentable,” Applejack snickers knowingly. ”And just what is that supposed to mean?” ”Not everypony takes their longidest time to get ready.” ”Ugh, that is not even a word.” Dearest me there really is a theme here. Twilight speaks up before things get worse, “How about we get on with the party? Huh girls?” “That would be most wise.” She glares quickly before trotting over to the bookshelf, “I’ve always wanted to have my own slumber party. I even have my own personal reference guide. It’s been a dream of mine since I was just a foal.” Twilight passes the book to Rarity only for you to catch it instead. “Slumber 101: All You've Ever Wanted to Know About Slumber Parties But Were Afraid to Ask?” A swift tug is all it takes to rip it from your hands, “Yes, and it’s MY book. If you want to look at it you can check it out when it’s next available.” “Ok… So when is it next available?” ”We’re out of stock.” You somehow doubt that, but then again, it’s her library. “Since it’s clear that I am not allowed to look at this book of yours, how do we go about this ‘slumber party?’” ”Easy,” she replies brandishing a quill and flipping to the first page, “We go by the book.” ”And just what are we doing first sugarcube?” Twilight looks up with a sickening grin, “Makeovers.” ~~~ *knock knock* “Applejack!” Twilight hollers through the door to the restroom, “It’s not that bad!” Rarity rolls her eyes as she mixes the green sludge in the bowl absentmindedly, “Really, I do not know how in Equestria you could be surprised by her behavior. She’s far too brutish to understand the delicacies of a facial, wouldn’t you agree Anon?” Before you can speak Rarity smacks another glob onto your face, making your already green face that much greener. You wipe the area around your mouth having been unfortunate enough to taste mud once, and you distinctly remember wanting to cut out your own tongue. “Fertilizer… Ughh,” you grunt, almost able to taste it once again. ”Fertilizer? Whatever are you talking about?” “Just a random thought that sprung to mind,” you smile, “But besides the awful taste of mud, the feel of it against the skin truly feels rejuvenating.” Yet you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with you saying that. Oh well. ”See Applejack, a fine gentlecolt like Anon has no problem with these ‘fru fru’ activities.” You stop her before she adds another coat, your face already packed enough as it is. “Perhaps I can talk her,” you stand up next to the door allowing Twilight to get a turn at being slimed, “Applejack? You know it is most unkind to run away like this.” ”I ain’t gonna let no fru fru mare like Rarity turn me into a sprucy princess. Ain’t gonna happen partner.” You cannot say she doesn’t have a point, but Twilight is her friend, surely she can overlook it for her. “So you will face a corrupted alicorn queen, but you would not face a makeover for a friend?” ”It ain’t that simple. It’s a matter of principle.” “Alright then Ms. Applejack, it is your decision, as it is your fate, and should your actions lead to the ruin of Ms. Sparkle’s first slumber party, so be it.” You return and sit beside Rarity who just finished with Twilight’s mud job and started placing some strange circles on her eyes. “What might these strange circles be?” you ask picking one up. ”They’s called cucumbers,” you hear that southern voice call behind you, “And they’s best for eatin’, not… whatever this is.” ”Humph, they reduce the puffiness around one’s eyes obviously. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” You’re more interested in Applejack’s answer, and without a thought you give it a bite. ”Taste good, don’t it?” You force yourself to swallow, regretting it as much as you did the mud, “See? Puffiness.” “It tastes of water with the consistency of… something grotesque. Horrid.” Twilight takes her time to chime in, “What is it with you and how these taste? Just say it’s bad.” And once more, she takes every opportunity to belittle your choice of vocabulary. “Why do you dislike me so?” ”Dislike?” she shrugs off your question, “I don’t where you got that idea.” ”It is a bit strange how you pounce on him all the time,” Rarity admits. ”I don’t agree with Rarity much, but she’s got a point. You two got bad blood or somethin’? “Yes, do we have bad blood or something?” you join in with them, “What does that mean actually?” ”Ya got an alteracation.” ”She means, altercation or a disagreement. Someponies have a habit of mispronouncing words.” ”Do not. ”Do to.” “Alright, that’s enough,” you coldly bark, the two settling down with opposing glares, “What’s next on the list? With a glow of her horn the mud evaporates from your face leaving you feeling fresh and rejuvenated. Twilight, lucky enough to avoid their questions, looks over the book, “Umm, makeovers, check. Now we have ghost stories!” Spooky. ”So who wants to go first?” Twilight asks flicking off the light leaving a single between the four of you. ”I’ll go first,” Applejack volunteers, “I got a real heart clencher. This’s the tale of the prissy ghost who drove everypony crazy with her unnecessary neatness.” “To be honest, that sounds quite boring. Does the ghost clean up hotel rooms between her murder sprees?” Rarity holds her head up high, “I simply must agree with Anon. Not even a filly would get the shivers at such a tale.” ”Oh yeah, ya think you could do better?” ”Well of course. It's the horrifying story of the messy, inconsiderate ghost who irritated everypony within a hundred miles! Oo-oo!” You raise your hand, earning strange glances all around, “Yes Anon?” “Is this really a ghost story? It sounds more like-“ ”I've got one!” Twilight shouts rudely, though her glee is pure. Perhaps she has an actual tale worthy of the tongue? ”This story is called The Legend of The Headless Horse.” Now this is an old tale. Last time you heard it the poor old mare had a heart attack right there, truly a sight to behold. It doesn’t quite make your all-time favorites though. You lean back as she recites the grim setting that serves no other purpose but to bore you. Scary stories… The last time you were scared was back- Actually, you don’t remember being scared. Why would you ever be scared? That’s utter nonsense. You look out to the darkened windows as Twilight begins her tale, transfixed on the rain that races down the glass. Your bits are on the big one. Go Big Blue, Go. Ten minutes later… Hmm, confound you Big Blue. You had one task and you failed again and again. Best nine of 17. ”…and just when the last pony thought she was safe, there, standing right behind her, just inches away was…” You almost got it you blob of water, just a little more and- ”The Headless Horse!” ”AAAAAAAHHHH!!!” A hoof comes in hard, smacking you right in the face and sending your head smacking against the ground. So sad, you didn’t get to see if he won. This is truly the end of days. But now you at least get to admire the ceiling of her house. You never did get much time to see how it curves towards the top much like an egg. Kind of. ”Dangit Rarity! Ya darn knocked Anon’s lights out.” “My lights?” you sit up confused, “I have lights on me?” You don’t see any lights… Maybe they’re under your clothes, nope, not there either. Rarity comes over and cradles your head, “I’m so sorry Anon. I didn’t mean it. Applejack pushed me.” Shots fired. “I did no such thing! Don’t try and admit you wasn’t startled and hit there Anon ‘cause of it. You’s lucky he’s got a head like an Apple.” You don’t quite know what to make of that. ”I never said anything of the sort. I-” “It’s quite alright. My head is intact and that is the end of it. Okay?” The two of them nod begrudgingly, and you’re growing quite certain that the only ‘bad blood’ here is between the two of them. It is a sad thing when not even the elements of harmony can coexist. Maybe… They were never meant to be… No, enough of that. “And to the point of the story, I did not find the terror that was advertised to be so frightening.” ”Not scary?” Rarity and Applejack gasp. You shrug in indifference. “1/10.” Twilight is not so amused by your judgement, “What could possibly be scarier than the Legend of the Headless Horse?” ”Now Twilight, don’t go challenging Anon when-“ “Quite many things. For one, your ‘Headless Horse’ you so call it, is nothing more than a story, a fairy tale designed to induce fear.” ”That’s what makes it scary. Your imagination is your own worst nightmare.” “I’m sure that Steel Mist would agree with that, but reciting quotes does not make it any less false. What truly terrifies the psyche is the unknown, what lies beyond.” ”Like death?” Applejack leans in closer. “Yes, an extreme example, but ultimately the most terrifying. It is a simple concept, one that every pony and beast knows of, and it is far more powerful than any ‘Headless Horse.’” You stand up and pat down your now dry suit when Rarity asks, “Do, YOU, have a ghost story Anon?” “Hehe, no story that you would like to hear. Ms. Sparkle, do you have something that I can drink, my throat has this strange scratchy feeling to it.” ”There’s some milk in the fridge,” she checks off ghost stories from the list, “Which brings us to the next part. S’mores!” “S’mores?” ”Oh Anon darling, don’t tell me you have never had a delicious and positively scrumptious S’more.” No, you can’t say that you have. ”I’ll get the milk,” Twilight trots over to the kitchen, “You three can start roasting the marshmallows.” “Marshmallows? Do they-“ ”No,” Twilight interrupts, “They don’t originate in marshes.” Of course, silly you. Actually- ”And there is no such thing as a mallow.” Applejack passes you a- a thing, it’s small and white, “That there’s a marshmallow. Tasty little thing, but you gotta get a stick to roast it first.” As you join her by the fireplace, Rarity talks with Twilight and gets out the other supplies. ”’Aight, now we’s gotta put the stick through the marshmallow like so.” The tiny stick pierces the blob, some of the residue left on the tip, “Now ya just hold it over the fireplace and let ‘er roast.” You look at the blob in your hand and give it a squeeze, the blob squishing and powdering your finger. “So where is my stick?” She smacks her head, “Aww shucks, I completely forgot yours. Sorry ‘bout that partner. I’ll got fetch ya one.” She’s about to stand up when you remember something you have in your pocket. “Actually Ms. Applejack I have my own.” Brandishing the tongue depressor you had hidden in your pocket, you skewer the marshmallow with a single plunge and dangle it over the fire. Delightful, now kind Applejack doesn’t have to- Why’s she looking at you like that? “What?” She shakes her head and laughs, “You’s an odd one, Anonymous.” It’s just a tongue depressor, what’s the big deal? Ponies, they get flustered over the smallest of things. The fire spits at your tiny stick, the marshmallow growing crusty with a deep brown, and that scent… You take a deep breath as to soak in that marvelous aroma. It is of the highest order, truly. ”Ah hope yer’s trip to the doctor was swell.” Interesting how she knows of your travels. A stalker? One who creeps in the shadows, watching another being without their… Does that make you a stalker? “Tell me, how did you come to that conclusion?” She points to your improvised stick, “Can’t think of no other place to get one of them doohickeys.” “You mean the tongue depressor?” ”Shucks I don’t know, probably. Why does they call it that anyways? Don’t see no tongue on it.” It is as if she and you were the same person. “I pondered the exact thing myself Ms. Applejack,” you nod to her as a sign of respect. ”Ya don’t got to gets so formal with me Anon. Just call me Applejack, or AJ if ya want.” AJ. You believe this is what they call a nickname. It’s nice… ”Y’all better be ready, I got a fresh one coming up,” Appleja… AJ, says before delivering over the crispy treat. You watch as Rarity levitates a small square slab over it, squishing it right under a brown block thing. ”And done. Ta-da!” The creation almost seems to sparkle in its magnificence. ”Nah - You just eat’em,” you watch in horror as Applejack devours it with no shame, not even taking the time to savor the cornucopia of flavors within. *belch* “What in Starswirl’s beard was that?” ”THAT, my dear Anon, was an offense known as the burp, and she could have at LEAST said excuse me.” ”I was gonna before you interrupted me,” she fires back, “Pardon.” Crisis averted, you’d say, but this heat is simply dreadful. “Is it hot in here, or is it just my imagination?” ”Anon you’re stick thingy!” What ever does she- Oh it’s on fire. “Well this isn’t pleasant.” ”Drop it before you burn yourself!” Twilight shouts as you stare at the flame working its short way to your fingertip. “It’s a shame really. I liked that stick…” You toss what’s left into the fireplace, the tips of your finger as black as night. ”Oh Anon look at your hand, I’ll get you a band-aid,” Rarity offers. “It’s quite alright. A little burn never hurt anyone.” Then again, those poor mares didn’t much like it back in- Where was it again? Sale-something or another. Lovely little village. ”Are you sure darling? That looks awfully painful.” You inform her that you are in no need of assistance before looking back to- *snap* “I forgot to take off the marshmallow, silly me,” you reach into the fire and try to get it out, only for it to burst over your hand. You won’t be making any s’more like that. Shame, the least you can do is give it a taste. Hmm! You did not expect it to taste this good. That gooey texture mixed with sugar is sublime! The three look at you dumbfounded, hand covered in molten marshmallow. “Yes?” ”Did- did you just-“ ”Reach into that there fire-“ ”And eat that marshmallow?” You look between your hand and them, partly confused at the problem. “What else am I to do with it? Let it burn? Most wasteful indeed,” you give it another lick. The burnt parts could be done without. ~~~ After a brief scolding from Rarity and Applejack having to drag you over to the sink, you finally get your hand washed off and bandaged. You told them it wasn’t necessary, but they didn’t listen. Twilight just looked on with suspicion, quite a common trait of hers. When you finally sit back down with them all the s’mores are gone, likely eaten by Applejack. You feel a tap on the shoulder, Applejack sliding over a plate, “Keep it on the down low.” “Down low?” ”Just eat it ya idjit.” You take a nibble off the end and thank her, “So what’s next on that list of yours Twi?” ”Let’s see, makeovers, s’mores, ghost stories… It says here the next is Truth or Dare.” ”I dare Applejack to do something carefully and neatly for a change.” This ‘chocolate’ works wonders with the marshmallow. ”Oh yeah? Well I dare Rarity ta lighten up and stop obsessin' over every last little detail, for a change.” The sharp and mellow between them blend together so well, and this ‘graham cracker?’ Spectacular. ”Uhm, I don’t think this is how the game’s supposed to work.” “Hmm? What’d I miss?” Twilight rolls her eyes, “We’re playing a game Anonymous, or does that not compute?” “That sounded like an insult… I’m not a fan of those myself.” ”Now hold on you two. Y’all need to simmer down.” ”Quite. If Applejack and I can get along, as best we can, then you two can as well.” “Truth or Dare, correct? I remember this game quite well.” That poor colt should never have accepted that dare. “Go on then, name it.” ”Hey now y’all-” ”Alright then, Truth or Dare?” Rarity puts a hoof on you, “Anon you have nothing to prove by-“ “Dare.” ”Now that’s enough out of the both of ya! I ain’t never seen no two ponies angrier at each other than…” She looks to Rarity, the two faintly smile, “Shoot, I guess more than us, and that ain’t no way we should be acting. It ain’t cordu- cordiuh…” ”Cordial, darling.” ”Yeah, cordial or whatever. If we’s can put our differences aside like Rarity was talking ‘bout, then so can you.” Twilight opens her mouth, but Rarity interrupts, “No ‘buts’ Twilight. What good is a slumber party if we can’t have any fun? That has to be on the list somewhere.” ”Page 3, paragraph 2… Fun is the key,” she cites, tracing her hoof along the floor. ”Why can we not just do that then?” Rarity shakes her head, “Here I was thinking the biggest obstacle was going to be the two of us. By Celestia was I wrong.” ”Now you two got anything to say for yourselves?” You and Twilight look at each other. You wonder what she’s thinking right now. Her eyes are as cold as ever, but you know that she wouldn’t do anything to lose her friends. ”I guess I took things a little too far,” she admits, “I didn’t think I’d ruin my own party…” There it is, the honest truth. As much as she dislikes you, she likes her friends that much more. ”How about you Anon, what do you have to say for yourself?” “Me? Well I don’t speak for everyone, but I am having a wonderful time.” ”Dang nabit! We’re trying to help y’all here.” “Help? Ha,” you chuckle at the sentiment, “I do not require ‘help.’ The one who does is sitting on her haunches right there.” ”Anon,” Rarity raises her voice, “It’s rude to point.” That’s rude is it? Hmm, you’d think manipulation was worse. “And just why did you invite me here Rarity? Was it because you wanted me to come? Or was it because she wanted me to come?” ”Do not try and-“ Twilight stands up angrily, “Maybe if somepony would come clean as to what they’re actually doing in Ponyville, then I wouldn’t need to!” By the time she realized what she said, it’s already too late. “…And the truth’s revealed.” ”Is that true Twilight?” AJ asks her, Twilight frozen with a hoof over her mouth. Rarity lets out a sigh, “I think it’s time we all got some beauty sleep.” “I think I’ll stay down here, get things cleaned up.” ”Don’t stay up too late, we all need some rest,” she adds on before escorting Twilight back upstairs. Not all of us. ~~~ The storm continues to rage outside, the rain dinging against the windows, occasionally followed by the crack of thunder. Nature calls, so they say. You undo the wrappings of your hand and toss them within as the last bits of kindling. It’ll die soon enough, though you have no numbers to see for sure, but you can assume. A part of you thinks you were too hard on Twilight Sparkle. She only thirsted for knowledge, is that so bad? She shouldn’t have sought it from you. Who else would know? Rainbow Dash. But does she know that she knows? No, of course not. You flex your hand, the skin around your fingers cracked to reveal the darker interior, not the red that you’re accustomed to seeing. Don’t start thinking about it Anon, this is where you want to be. It’s not a matter of where you belong, you already know where that is. Out there, back in Saddle Arabia like you told Rarity, back to the city where your… unique services were required. But you like the peace of Ponyville… but that stallion today… You stand back up and move to the window, gazing through the rain, a single stallion struggling to bring his cart back in. He fears the lightning because it could mean his end, for no one truly knows what awaits for them beyond it, but he won’t see that for awhile yet. This is what you like, the fear of death may always loom, but here, death itself is at its lowest. Funny, that you would reside here. No one would suspect that you would live amongst them. But if they were to find out… They wouldn’t take you in. It’s not that you look different. It’s that you are different. *creak* You turn to see a door cracked open ever so slightly. Looking upstairs, the three still remain. So who is it that opened it? Ghosts? Don’t be silly Anon. You both know they don’t exist, but then what? You pull open the door and head down the stairs into the darkness below, hand gliding against the wall in hopes of finding the switch. No such luck, but what you do discover is a candle with a match by its side. It doesn’t quite illuminate the entire room… Now now, this is quite the chamber. Notes and quills, scrolls, books, all scattered about across tables lining the walls. You hover over one of the open scrolls. It’s addressed to one Shining Armor. Her brother it would seem. He’s due for a review anytime soon, Twilight wishing him good luck. A touching sentiment. More scrolls, one to a mother and father, some to old teachers perhaps. One to Celestia… She… was quite the trouble maker. Not entirely true of course, she lived as she was destined, but you thought she needed to keep doing so. You remember that night with disdain, an odd thing her passing was. It was not your first run-in with royalty, but… Why her? Why then? She never spoke to you, no tears. She simply watched herself in silence. You didn’t have- Something, the heart, is that right? It sounds right. You just couldn’t take her. Equestria blossomed under her rule, who were you to deny the kingdom its Princess? So as silent as you came, you put her back… And that is when you learned not to dabble in the realm of the living. That… Draconequus, the worst of his kind, the last as well. Nightmare Moon, another product of yours no doubt. How much would’ve changed if you had simply taken her? Do not relive the past… And so you won’t prelive the future. Live in the present. Yes ma’am. “Well now what is this? Oh my this is an old one.” You stand over an old stone, flat and carved into with a tool of some kind. You haven’t seen one of these in an age. Old Draconic writings, back before they adopted their feral nature and their greed. A sin. That is what greed is, correct? Rarity said as much. This is older than Equestira probably, it definitely predates Canterlot’s construction. Now let’s see if you recall, Old Draconic isn’t as simplistic as most would believe. It has a delicacy to it. The closest any pony has gotten to deciphering Old Draconic was Starswirl you believe, a genius he was. Shame what happened to him. Even you wonder sometimes. But! Back to the stone… hmmm… Oh. OOOhhh… You feel like you need to wash your hands after handling… this… ”Anon?” You turn back around to see Twilight standing on the stairs, “What’re you doing down here?” “The door was cracked open so I decided to take a look inside. Quite the collection you have in here.” ”Really? Ugh I hate that door. It doesn’t shut right.” Why isn’t she yelling at you? You entered a private chamber. Twilight rubs her eyes with a yawn, “Excuse me. I couldn’t get any sleep with those two bickering.” So much for being able to get along. ”I saw a light down here and decided to check it out, and here YOU are.” There’s that contempt you missed so much. “I do apologize for going through your effects. Curiosity killed the cat so they say.” Though you know the truth. ”Well, if you don’t mind I’m going to lock this back up.” “Yes of course,” you nod, “Also, that is a fine specimen you have there. Old Draconic is very rare.” ”How do you know that?” “Well it is not everyday you pull a piece of that quality from the earth.” ”No, how do you it’s Draconic?” “It’s not the first time I’ve seen that writing, though, if I might make a suggestion, don’t try and decipher that. You will not like what you find. Goodnight.” The door slams shut before you can reach it, and all you can do is sigh. “You have a habit of doing that to me.” ”You can read Draconic?” Great, another line of questioning. Has this been what your vacation has boiled down to? You quite like that idiom. “Old Draconic, yes. I never bothered with the subsequent versions. They never wrote anything of value after The Shift.” ”What shift?” By the fires of Tartarus she doesn’t even know what The Shift is, and you do not wish to engage in a history lesson. “Ms. Sparkle, as much as I would adore the time it takes to educate you in Evolutionary Studies, I would rather enjoy the storm above.” Twilight lowers her head and you take that as a sign of submission which is fine, “P-please.” Do these ears actually work? You probe it with your pinky, revealing some strange waxy substance. It might be the cause. “I seem to have misheard you, can you say again?” ”Can you- Please tell me what it is.” Please. You heard that request often, though not from her. It’s always ‘Please don’t do this.’ ‘Please can I have more time.’ ‘Please sir, I want some more.’ You don’t quite remember anyone saying that last one, though you faintly remember it. Strange. “Is it the effects of some ear parasite, or did you say please, twice.” Twilight shakes her head, “It’s the second part.” You can’t help but smile. She’s being nice to you. You pull out a stool for her and take a sit on the stairs. “The Shift was a great divide of the draconic blood line. You see this today, with your assistant, the dragon Spike. Where is he by the way? I didn’t see any tiny lamps moving about.” She’s too busy writing this down to answer, so you roll up a ball of that waxy stuff and throw it at her nose. ”Gah!” she eeks after the wad almost gets sucked up her nose, “What was that?” “Now that I have your attention,” you grin, “Where is Spike?” ”He’s in Canterlot,” Twilight freeing the gunk from her nasal passage, “Is this ear wax?” “Is that what it’s called? It certainly fits, not like ‘tongue depressor.’ No sense whatsoever.” ”It’s because you depress the tongue. Did you think it had a literal tongue?” Well that makes a lot more sense. “Don’t change the subject Ms. Sparkle, but as I was saying, you could see the effects with Spike.” ”How so?” she asks, poised for your answer. “Simple, he’s a dragon, the newer variety.” ”There was another one?!” This is why you don’t get involved with mortal affairs. They kill your hopes about where this generation is heading. “Yes, there was. Much smaller though, about as big as a pony I would say.” ”What happened? What caused the shift?” “Well you see…” Nothing. The memory fades. You had it right there, and yet it drifted off into nonexistence. “I can’t remember… But! After this Shift, the race divided, the evolutionary lines splitting into a variety of races. Dragons, Hydras, the Quarray Eels, that serpent we came across, you know, the one with the mustache. Oops, my mistake, moustache.” Twilight can’t help by laugh at your teasing, looking up at you with a smile, “How do you know all this?” “Many others have written books about it I’m sure. The facts are there under the earth, down in the bones.” Twilight sets the quill aside, and gives you a stern look, “Who are you, Anon? Where do you come from?” “I believe I answered these questions before.” ”Hardly, and the more you try to avoid them the more steps I’ll take to finding out. You’re not like the rest of us, Anon.” “What?” you force a laugh, “I think you are going on a lack of sleep.” ”Fluttershy told me what happened to you, with Scootaloo. You didn’t flinch when you put your hand in the fireplace. Why?” Her questioning is beginning to annoy you, and not the good way. “I do not like where this is going?” ”Why did you visit a hospital today? Where did you go back in the forest? Why are you here?” If she doesn’t stop asking questions- You know what to do. No, it’s not her time. There’s no time like the present. ”Just tell me who you are. Do you think I want to do this?” The numbers say- You don’t care about those. Silence… “You want to know why I’m here? Do you really want to know?” She nods and you can’t help but admire he persistence. “I- I am tired. So very tired.” You stand, rubbing your temples and bridge of your nose, “Tired?” “Have you ever felt like you drifted by? You could see, learn, watch, but at the end of the day, felt… empty?” What are you saying? Of course she doesn’t. How could she? ”Yes, back in Canterlot. All I ever did was study. If you asked me to describe one place back then, it would always be the same, my room…” “So you really do understand. I want a vacation, Miss Sparkle. Free from the confines of which I had existed. Always detached from the world, yet an intricate part of it. Am I making sense to you?” ”You want to experience the world, not just live in it.” Live… that’s the word of the millennium. “I can make you a promise Twilight Sparkle. I will answer all your questions in due time, but for now, allow me peace to enjoy that which I have been deprived.” That which every soul gets to savor, save for you. Twilight puffs her lips, “Everything?” “To the best of my ability, but in return, allow me to enjoy my ‘time in the sun’, free of your suspicions. Trust, is the foundation of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle. Would you trust me?” ”I hardly even know you. How do you expect me to trust you?” Were the roles reversed, would you say anything different? “Because you are better than I. More human…” ”Human? What does that mean?” You recognize this word from somewhere, some past experience, a foreign word of a domestic tongue. What sense does this make? “I wish I knew Twilight.” You move back upstairs and in front of the fireplace, the fire still burning. It is a weak flame, but it burns all the same, “I trust you Anon…” The unicorn sits beside you by the fire, “Those two never really liked each other, you know, but seeing them able to get along after all, maybe we could too.” You can’t help but smile at the thought, “It’s a shame about the party though. We didn’t get to everything on the list.” A shame really that the two of you ruined the slumber party, or did you? “Ms. Sparkle, what is next on the list?” ”I don’t really know,” she levitates the book over, “It’s a bit weird.” You take a look, a distant memory lingering just long enough. “This one I know.” ~~~ The next morning… You take a bite of your hay and oats, almost preferring a cup of coffee afterwards. “There are some foods that I simply cannot understand the appeal.” ”Here partner, I don’t need all of it,” AJ pushes over half her apple. “Much obliged ‘partner.’” Now this is mighty delicious. The restroom door finally opens up revealing a freshly groomed Rarity, “What is that delightful scent?” ”Hay and Oats with a cinnamon pinch,” Twilight proudly boasts before serving her a plate, “It’s one of Applejack’s recipes.” ”Oh really,” Rarity gives the cowgirl a suspicious glance, “And did she actually follow the recipe?” ”Ya know I never use it. Adds to the thrill. Speaking of, I can’t help but notice Anon and Twilight ain’t at each other’s necks this mornin.” ”Really? I didn’t notice.” Rarity rebuttals, puffing her mane one last time. ”I reckon it’s got to do with dat hour long touchup ya got goin there.” ”Don’t you start,” the two laugh together. You swallow a bite of your apple, the juices coating your throat in such a peculiar fashion, “Twilight and I decided to take your advice and we’ve come to an understanding.” ”Well that’s darn tootin!” ”Of course,” Twilight says sadly, “We weren’t able to get through everything on the list last night.” ”Shucks it ain’t over yet, what else we got on the list?” Twilight eye’s glance over, and you give her a nod, reaching your hand down for her cue. ”Here you go, the books right here,” Twilight slides the book over to her, Rarity and Applejack scooting together to read it together. ”Let’s see we did those fabulous makeovers, that creepy ghost story, I still have goose bumps, then we made some s’mores, barely had time to play Truth or Dare and then… Oh dear.” Rarity looks positively horrified, “No- No, I- I just did my hair!” ”Sorry Rarity. PILLOW FIGHT!” “EN GARDE!” you shout, brandishing dual pillows. ~~~ After a particularly rough game of fighting with pillows, it was about time for you to leave. ”Hey Anon, you never did tell me what that stone said.” Oh… about that… “It was nothing, just a recipe for… stuff.” And you actually touched it with your hands. ”A recipe? What does it make? You have to tell me.” Embarrassment, that is an emotion you’d rather not have to deal with. “Well… It was an elixir that boosted a few natural properties, private ones.” She cocks her head, “I’m not sure I understand.” You try and think of the clinical way to say it. “The elixir increased the magnitude of certain male genitalia.” ... … ”What?” “They certainly weren’t the most endowed of creatures.” ”I don’t even want to know how you know that.” And sometimes you would like to forget. “Farewell, Twilight. I hope to have less repulsive news in the future.” You start off down the road, “Wait, Anon!” “Hmm?” ”Do you want to come over sometime? To… read and stuff?” The day is still young, who knows what could happen? “I would be delighted to.” She smiles, closing her door, a whistling sound filling your ears, “Hey, what’s with the smile?” “I wasn’t aware that I had one. Strange.” ”Well could you stop it,” Rainbow Dash finally sets down next to you, “You kinda creep me out when you do that. So what’s on the schedule for today?” You look out to the rest of Ponvyvile, so many places, so little time. “Let’s just see where the road takes us.” Today… you think you made a new friend, and she’s not as annoying as you thought she was.