I pinched my nose as I shifted uneasy in the Canterlot Castle main hall. The one that's just about a rock's throw from the throne room. I assumed Princess Celestia was there, holding court, but she could be anywhere this time of day. It was important that I'd be around her vicinity whenever I did these things. It made my unsuspecting audience somewhat calmer to my presence.
Scores of multicolored visitors went about, walking left or right and heading to court hearings or arrangements that require the approval of ponies I couldn't be bothered to remember.
I mean, would like to remember.
I do in fact, remember the names of each and every one of the cabinet members that make up Princess Celestia's government thing and the nobles who sponsored them. But I dislike them on principle. Mostly because they use me as their current measuring device in their on-going better than contest. Everyone knows how it goes; you have a car and the other guy has to get two cars. You have an apartment and the other guy has to get a penthouse. You have a bipedal humanoid thing in Canterlot, they have a minotaur who shaves. And so on and so on.
A few ponies slowed in their steps as they always do. Glancing at me and the things left around my designated chair and sign. I can't resist a groan. They smiled at the sound, somehow unable to comprehend I'm not trying to be... friendly.
There aren't any kids around today so I don't expect anyone to feel brave enough to get up and close. All of these ponies and the occasional griffon have more things on their plate than to care about a wayward human. Even if I was the only one who knew that and the only one could pronounce that properly.
A trio of mares squealed, bumping each other as I caught their attention. My stomach rolled. They were too far for me to make out their conversation but I got a amusing sight. They dragged their third member, a mint colored unicorn, away when she declared some idea and tried to gallop in my direction. Her garbled pleas to meet with me was kinda... Embarrassing.
My stomach gurgled as I made out her words.
“Hors- Hor! I wanna meet with Hors- Bon Bon, help me! What do you mean, I'm making a ruckus? I just wanna hold-”
I closed my eyes. Her voice rising as the guards got involved. Arch Helm and Tin Star wouldn't be too rough on her. The familiar sounds of their clanging metal and hooves clawing at the marble floor. I ducked my head, looking away as I felt a promised headache rise. I chose to come here for a reason.
Public shame.
“My name is Horace.” I said, opening my eyes and staring a mirror affixed to the opposite wall.
There I was. A eighteen year old idiot currently stuck in a magical land of ponies. I imagined if a scientist, a soldier or a diplomat got sent to this Equestria, they would have been so much better at it than me. I hoped the Equestrians don't see me as the standard for all humans. I also kinda hoped, they didn't see me as human because this was...
“My name is Horsey.” The translator bleated.
“Horace.” I corrected, wiggling my nose at the perky imitation of my voice. I wished that I could do something about that tone. I've never sounded so pleasant and playful in my life. Unfortunately for me, the translator seemed to have two tones. Plucky and melodramatic.
“Horsey.”
“Horace.”
A group of ponies giggled, playing along and pronouncing my supposed name. They cooed and waved, the sentiment spreading along the crowd as they all took a few minutes to greet me. I ignored them, waiting for the reply of the translator.
“Hor-SEY.”
The crowd ignited, wearing silly grins and repeating all together in a unholy chorus, “Hello Horsey!” Then walking away as if they'd just seen a cat wiggled out of a cardboard box or a puppy barking for attention. Three months living among these ponies, I have learned a important fact.
Once you're labeled cute, you will always be considered cute.
Now I don't have a problem of being cute or being called cute. I'm also a big fan of sweet, charming, handsome or as my best friend would say, a swell guy who always get them caught by the cops but out of the holding tank within an hour. Let's just say I like loose definitions, heh. But with the ponies, it's a different story. Namely their language which I'm still trying to get the hang of.
All of this would just fine if their definition of 'cute' passed the sanity test.
It shouldn't irritated me as much as it does but it did. It really did. If it wasn't for the guards standing nearby and the fact that this was Canterlot Castle, I have no doubt that I would have been glomped en masse. Among other things, ugh.
I leaned back in my designated chair, sighing loud and hard. Despite what it sounded like, I've made a lot of progress with this translation device a unicorn by the name of Twilight Sparkle cobbled up for me. I only wished I'd made it this far, three long and humiliating months ago.
Unfortunately as my chair and the well-meaning sign next to me proudly proclaimed, 'Horsey, a visitor from a different world. He is a GOOD BOY. Say hello to the GOOD BOY!', I'm not exactly sure if I can do anything about it. I'd like to. So here I am, relying on shame and more shame to power me through this ordeal.
“Horsey.” I muttered, cringing as I said that accursed name.
“Horsey is a good boy.” The translator agreed, choosing to define the name instead of repeating after me. It's really fickle.
“Horsey is a,” I paused, stressing on the next word. “human.”
“Horsey,” The translator stuttered, caught up in its internal magical mechanism as it finally processed what I was trying to say. “knows that it is a good boy.” I swore to god that if this damn thing didn't act right, I'd what? Have a tantrum and prove to these ponies I was exactly what they thought of me? A animal that could do a few tricks. Or worse, a exotic pet that had taken residence in Canterlot?
And here I thought I was getting somewhere.
“Fuck me.”
I shouldn't have said that.
“Pet me, I need love and attention!” And there it was. The wandering hoof of a guard petting the top of my head. I shuddered, annoyed that this translator would distort my words so much that it didn't even sound right. And I shuddered again when I remembered this was exactly how I treated cats back on Earth.
“Do you need a hug?” The guard Arch Helm asked as he looked at me, his fucking hoof resting in my hair.
In his eyes, I imagined that all I was to him was a frightened little bunny needing a rough and tough guard to take me to safety. I've heard him talking to his mates, the fellow guards. About my voice reminding him of soft grunts that a rabbit makes when they're scared. I can't comprehend how my voice, cracking only ten percent of the time, could sound anything like a fucking bunny.
“No.” I moaned, cringing as my thoughts went nowhere good. I'll have to try again tomorrow. I won't be getting anything done like this.
“Maybe.”
“Aw, come here little guy.” Arch Helm scooped me up in his massive fore-hooves and gripped me in a back-twisting hug as he bent me out of the chair. It's a testament to how often I am hugged that I don't reflectively scratch and kick my way out of this meat, oxygen-depriving prison of muscle and fur. I felt his snout nestled in my hair and his gentle murmuring, “Everything will be alright.”
I shuddered again, overwhelmed by this unwanted sweetness and Arch hugged me harder. I didn't think he'd hug me until I pass out. He learned his lesson last time. But I wanted to wrap this up. I forced the words out of my throat, my stomach squeezing as I gave up my single allotment of dignity for the day.
“I feel better, Helm.” I forced out, keeping my voice calm so the translator wouldn't get any creative ideas about what it thought I meant.
“I feel better, Helmie.”
“You sure?” Helm said, pulling back as if he expected me to burst into tears.
“Yeah.” I nodded before I sighed, freeing my arms from my sides and wrapping them around Helm to give a tight, reassuring squeeze. “I know that you mean well. That's why it's hard for me to get upset at you when you don't respect my space. You ponies don't even know how much I dislike being treated a walking, talking teddy bear.”
And of course, this is when the translator decided to switch to melodrama in order to portray my supposed meaning even clearer than before.
“A-huh. I know that you care lots about me. But sometimes it gets very hard for me to show my very special feelings when I need you to care. Ponies just like you don't know how much I DIS-PLIKE pretending a walking, talking teddy bear is treated like me.”
“Did someone say something mean to you? Tell me, I'll teach that bad guy a thing or two.”
Why did it suddenly feel like I was in a after-noon special? Would cameras burst out of the corners? A producer walk up with me and announced I've been punk'd? I'd been volunteered without my knowledge for some crazy reality sitcom where bets were made on when my psyche would snap this week? Why couldn't this be true?
“Nobody said anything. I just want to go up to my room.” I said, shaking my head before I slowly inched myself away from Arch Helm. I tried not to make any sudden moves. Ponies had a very strange reaction to things like that when it came from anything taller then them. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Nopony told me anything, nopony wants to tell me anything. I wanna go up to my favorite place. I want to see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, Horsey.” Helm said, slightly distracted with what he's probably thinking about his list of suspects that might have said something mean to me recently. I wished that I could say that it was a short list but it wasn't. Not by a long shot. “I'll see you tomorrow too! Keep a smile on that face, little guy!”
I turned away from him, walking casually for a few steps before breaking on into a jog. I sprinted and swirled around the visitors and the castle staff as I made my way to the main staircase. Taking two stairs at a time, I scaled the first and second flight of stars. I bumped a few maids, skirted by a set of teachers and slid into a corner.
I'd like to say I was only catching my breath but I knew I wouldn't make it to my room in time. I made a fist and bit into it, muffling the frustrated shrieks bubbling in my throat. I fell back against the wall and dropped, using my other hand to yank at my hair.
“I am not Horsey!” I gasped, shouting it over and over as I dropped my face into my hands, curling into a ball. “Don't call me that stupid name! Don't touch me! Don't look at me! I... My name isn't that stupid, stupid name.”
The translation rambled, I didn't bother listening anymore.
“Horace.”
“Horsey.”
“Horace.”
“Hor-SEY.”
“Horsey.”
“Horsey is a very good boy.”