When I woke up, the first thing I did was not investigate my surroundings. Neither was it searching for my weapons, which I had been deprived of for some reason. Nor did I go off seeking vengeance for the rather violent abuse of my manhood. It did involve my manhood though. It also included the fetal position, tears and a lot of swearing.
Like you can blame me! I’ll bet you three thousand caps that kick would’ve put a dent in a set of T-51b! I’d like to see you even stand up afterwards! I sure as fuck couldn’t.
Twilight’s ears flattened as the human awoke, making a lot of noise in the process. During his unconsciousness, she had attempted to remove the strange thing on his arm. No matter what she did, the locking mechanism had proven far too stubborn, resisting her every attempt. So she used the time until he woke up to find a solution to the language barrier. Which she had.
She was actually in the middle of an attempt to circumvent the problem when he woke up. Doing her best to ignore the pained moaning, she focused on her only copy of the Canterlot Institute of Linguistics Equestrian-Zebrican/Zebrican-Equestrian Dictionary (8th Edition). She had never tried this spell before, never having a need to do so in the past.
She failed to notice the human stop his pained complaints to take notice of the intensifying glow coming from her horn. The pages of the dictionary seemed to be caught in a gale. Her face was twisted in concentration, doing everything in her considerable power to make sure that the spell succeeded.
The flow of magic stopped and Twilight took a step back from the book, a little dazed. She now had, in addition to the other information that ran rampant through her mind, a whole other language. She stumbled about giddily as she tested her new knowledge. “Oh wow,” she said, surprised at the unfamiliar, yet perfectly intelligible sounds. “It worked!” she exclaimed in perfect Zebrican. She began to giggle as she closed the dictionary and returned it to its spot among the bookshelves.
Twilight’s mild euphoria at having accomplished this feat of magic was brought to a complete stop when she heard a strange metallic clicking noise.
“Next time you take my weapons, take all of them.”
She turned to meet the owner of the gruff voice. Sitting on his posterior, pointing some strange metal thing at her, wearing the foulest look she had ever seen on a living creature (and she had been around Angel, Fluttershy’s pet rabbit), was the human.
So I was being dramatic. What of it? Not like you’d be able to resist, right?
I’m just glad her search for my weapons was quick and sloppy, just like the goons in the casinos. They never check your boots for a knife, look for hidden pockets with brass knuckles inside or think you’ve got a revolver tucked into the back of your pants. I know for a fact you’ve got a combat knife strapped underneath the body plate of that combat armor, I can see the tip of the handle. By the way, just who are Rei - ?
Oh, right, the story. So yes, I always go everywhere with a .44 Magnum tucked into the back of my pants. Probably not really safe, but I’d rather not be completely unarmed. Why the Magnum? Well, partly because I have a soft spot for revolvers. Mainly, though, its accuracy and power in a small, easy-to-carry package. You ever been shot with one? Who am I asking, of course you have. You’ve seen how easy people go down. And parts to maintain them are common, too. Cheap, powerful and durable. Ammo can be a bitch, but I only ever have the six shots. Usually all I need to get to my other weapons.
I wasn’t going to shoot her. Intimidate her, yes, but I would never actually harm someone without good reason. Raiders are different, they’ll take every opportunity they get. Then again, she did take my weapons and for all I knew I was being held hostage. But being held hostage usually involves rope and lack of movement. No, wait, that’s a night at the Gomorrah. Hostage situations include weapons! And as far as I was concerned, that horn could easily be one. I was practically in the same room with a perfectly sane Glowing One. All she had to do was start throwing radiation at me and I was as good as dead.
I wasn’t clearly thinking at that point. After all, I did just wake up after taking a hit to the balls that would knock out a Deathclaw Alpha in power armor. Wow, that’s a terrifying thought. I was without most of my weapons. I didn’t know where I was. For all I knew, they were gonna lock me up and do things to me.
So I just sat there, pointing the revolver at her and giving her a death glare. Let me tell you, it was taking so much willpower at that time to not burst out laughing.
It took Twilight a moment to properly take note of the significant parts of what he had said. He had just said something about all his weapons. The fact that one was being pointed at her meant that she had not gotten them all. There was also the possibility that he had even more concealed on him. This meant she now had a dangerous, possibly-heavily armed, and most certainly furious alien inside her house, and she was all alone with him. “Eep.”
There was a tense silence, only broken when the human let out a strangled snort and collapsed into complete laughter, lowering the supposed weapon in the process. Shortly before cringing and grabbing his crotch. “Ohhh. Still hurts.”
Twilight blinked before realising what was going on. “That was a joke!?” she asked loudly. “How is that even funny!?” The alien just blinked, not understanding a word she said. She let out an aggravated sigh and repeated herself in Zebrican.
“You just don’t have my sense of humour,” he replied mockingly. “And since when could you speak English?”
“English?” Twilight asked. “What are you talking about? We’re speaking in Zebrican.”
There was a rather strange silence at that point. “For the sake of this conversation progressing, let’s just say that we’re both right, okay?” the human asked, his tone making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with this topic. “After all, I have a few questions.”
“No! How can we both be right?” Twilight Sparkle argued. “We’re debating about what the name of the language is, it’s logically impossible for us both to be correct!”
All she got for her trouble was an unamused look and the human putting the palm of his hand on his face. “I’m asking questions now,” he said, ignoring her. “Who are you, where am I, and where can I find the one who-” That was when the door opened, revealing Applejack, holding a basket of baked goods in her mouth. “YOU!” the human yelled furiously, pointing the strange thing at her.
I very nearly pulled the trigger there and then. After all, she had kicked me in the balls. The last idiot to do that, I think it was one of the Legion’s assassins, I ended up stomping on his throat and gouging out his eyes. A bullet to the head would have been merciful, really.
Of course, my body decided that there and then was a good time to inform me that I had not eaten since I arrived in that world. I guess the smell of food was enough to remind me. I’m pretty sure that eased the tension. I kept the gun levelled at her. Yeah, another female. I didn’t think much of it at the time.
“Give me the food, and I’ll forget about what you did.” I had to wait for her friend to translate. There was a rather dangerous silence (honestly, I was worried the purple one would try and smite me with radiation) in which I decided, there and then, I would have to find a way around that. I did not like the idea of being followed by some purple horse thing that could ghoulify me if I looked at her wrong.
“Twi,” Applejack said quietly, having dropped the basket of apology pies, “Ah thought you said you was gonna take his weapons from him.”
“I thought I did. He had it hidden on him,” the unicorn whispered back. She listened to the growling come from his stomach, followed by his request. “He says that he’ll forgive you for what you did if you give him the food.”
“That’s why Ah brought it over in the first place.” She nudged the basket closer to him, remembering Twilight’s warning about his hostility towards magic. She looked up at him with what she hoped would come across as an apologetic smile before backing away slowly, keeping a wary eye on the strange metal thing it was holding.
Would you believe me if I were to say that the orange pony that gave me food had a cowboy hat? No, honestly, a great big Stetson. She had her mane done up in a ponytail too. A horse with a ponytail, I know.
Having got the food, I put the gun down. I got what I wanted, and I didn’t think they were much of a threat. They just seemed so innocent. You ever had apple pie? Like, an actual, real apple pie, instead of one of those two-hundred year old things with more preservatives than actual fruit? It was like sex for my sense of taste. We will never have anything that tastes anywhere near as good as those things did here in the Wasteland. Ever. What? No I don’t have any of those pies here.
I don’t know how long it took me, but I ate the whole damn lot. I ended up feeling sick afterwards, but it was worth it. Y’know, there’s no real place for etiquette and table manners out there. After all, you take too long to eat something and next thing you know your camp is swarming with coyotes, bloatflies and every other mutated animal trying to kill you for a quick meal. So yeah, I tore through them like a Deathclaw tears through molerats. “Those were good.”
Look, the taste of those pies was like taking a dozen hits of Jet. There was no way in hell I was going to be coherent.
Author’s Notes:
The T-51b. 5 inches thick and capable of stopping everything short of anti-tank rounds. Still won’t stop Applejack.
Also, Google Docs says that ‘Zebrican’ is a real word. A Google search netted me pictures of Zecora’s plot. I’m cool with that.