//------------------------------// // In which our hero awakens in Equestria and determines the quickest way to leave again. // Story: Welcome to the Herd // by Kandagger //------------------------------// Chapter 2: Oy, what I headache do I have… I wake up on the stone cold floor, feeling like I got run over by the proverbial old Ford. What a weird dream. Why in the world would I dream about a show I don’t even watch? Why would I conjure up being turned into a small cutesy horse by having my humanity seared away? And why on earth would it scare me so bad that I would fall out of bed? I lift up my arm to reach for where my bed should be… Clop! That ought to have been more of a fwump…the sound of a hand hitting a mattress and maybe a blanket. But no, that was the sound of a hoof hitting a cobblestone. And I come fully awake just in time to have my much delayed freak out. I was a pony. I was really a pony. This wasn’t a dream. I had been turned into an avatar of cuteness and marketing genius by the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. And worse I was now sucked into some sort of grand world-spanning game that needed me to defeat said Spirit as said Pony. I was screwed. And so was Pony-world, whatever it was called. The Dragon Beyond the World was going to kick my equine flank and roast my corpse over a fire-girl along with his marshmallows. I found myself running in circles, alternately screaming and whimpering and muttering little bits of what I was thinking. Mostly just “I’m a pony,” and “I’m going to die.” I had to get my act together before I did something really stupid—like whine enough to make Shinji Ikari look brave. I hoofed myself hard in the face. Owww. Note to self: hooves hurt a lot more than hands. But at least I wasn’t hysterical anymore. …Nope, now I’m IN PAIN and STILL HYSTERICAL. I paused as the words of Leopold Bloom sounded in the recesses of my mind. And despite myself I started laughing. It wasn’t the cackle of madness but a low breathy chuckle of genuine humor. God bless Mel Brooks…or Celestia bless him as the case may be. I let out that last little sigh that finishes a good laugh and resolved to not freak out anymore. Now was the time to figure out where I was, and formulate a plan. The sky turned bluer outside the windows. Sunrise. I could already make out the walls and columns of a great chamber made of stone. The moss and lichen scattered about marked it as long abandoned. I saw a set of doors slightly ajar behind me, and another set completely off their hinges in front…through this doorway I could see a dais where thrones might be placed. I turned around and headed out the first doorway, hoping a hunch was correct. I found myself outside, in a courtyard far too long abandoned to nature. The courtyard ended at a sheer drop with an old rickety bridge as the only means of traversing it. Across the bridge was nothing but forest, the wild black forest of the nastier sort of fairytales. The trees were all old growth, gnarled and twisted things covered in vines and moss. I could almost sense them objecting to my very presence…even as a pony I was far too civilized a thing for these woods. And suddenly I knew where I was. As I have made very obvious I was not, and had no intention of ever becoming a “brony.” However I am a modern day user of the internet, and therefore I have run into several groups of these strange creatures. Their fervor and passion for the show means that it was only a matter of time before I would break down and see what all the fuss was about. I watched the season one premier...both episodes. And yes, I could see why the show was popular. The animation was beautiful, the voices excellent and the music top-notch. They told an excellent story in those 44 minutes and so I naturally clicked on the link for the next episode…and promptly lost all interest. It’s probably just a pet peeve of mine, but I can’t stand the viewpoint character of any show angsting over trivial matters (I blame “Doug”). And “who gets to go to the ball” was not a big enough problem for me. So I fell away from the series…well, for a while anyway. But those two episodes stuck with me, and one look at those trees told me I was in the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. I racked my brain for the specifics of those episodes. Let’s see, the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters (man, that’s a mouthful) was long abandoned for the City of Canterlot. The reason for the abandonment probably had something to with the “Everfree Forest” that currently surrounded the place. The Forest was so named because unlike everywhere else in Equestria (oh right, THAT’S what this country was called), the weather acted on its own and the animals were overtly hostile to ponykind. Since the random encounter list for this area included Manticores and Sea Serpents it was no wonder the residents of Ponyville never went there if they could avoid it. Now, on one hand, this meant I was in the middle of a forest big enough to house most of a monster manual with zero wilderness survival skills. On the other hand, I was also within a day’s walk of Ponyville—where there would be people that could help me get word to Celestia about Discord’s impending escape. All I had to do was get there. I began purposefully walking across the bridge. Just because I had seen the characters from the TV show cross without trouble didn’t mean I would be so lucky—the old rickety bridge gag is a classic after all. One step after another, I tested each plank before putting my weight on it. It seemed solid enough but the instant I got careless was the instant I fell to my doom. Step by step the far side of the bridge got closer, but I didn’t dare change my pattern of caution. It was slow going but eventually I stepped back on to terra firma without any incident whatsoever. “Well, that was anticlimactic.” I commented to no one, “Now, which way was Ponyville again?” It took me a whole thirty seconds of staring at the forest before I realized I was truly an idiot. I knew where I was. But I didn’t know exactly where I wanted to go. If I just pressed forward in a random direction, I could be wandering this stupid forest for days and not get anywhere…or worse wander out of the WRONG side of the forest in completely unfamiliar territory. However the Palace I was so blissfully trotting away from happened to have a nice high tower that rose above the tree canopy. And in theory, were I to look long enough from up there, I could FIND Ponyville and walk in its general direction instead of faffing about the forest and hoping for the best. I did an about-face and stomped back to the castle; ego bruised but otherwise unharmed. I crossed the threshold once again and began wandering the halls, looking for stairs. First floor, second floor, third floor…everything in the castle looked pretty much the same—old, bare, and falling apart. It’s really not worth looking into unless you like architecture. The towers were a little tricky. I climbed three different ones only to discover that they didn’t get above the tree line, and that I had somehow walked past the one I wanted. Finally, after much cardio, much trial and error, and a ridiculously unfair number of stairs, I ascended to the highest room of the tallest tower and hoped it was worth all the trouble. It wasn’t a bedroom, like I expected (too many fantasy movies with princesses I guess). Instead I found myself in an observatory, or the remains of one. It was dark, save for several patches of light from the holes in the roof. Anything useful had long been removed, or deteriorated to worthlessness. All I had was a spot where a big telescope might sit, a few levers on one wall and a couple piles of junk. Oh, and no windows. All that work and no windows. “Oh come ON!” I shouted heavenward, "Throw me a bone, here!” Unfortunately this looked like the sort of day where the only bones fate handed you were the ones you dug out of the ground yourself. True there were no windows…but this was an observatory room. And if the grooves in the ceiling were any indication, I ought to be able to open said ceiling right where a telescope might peek out, and climb up there to go sightseeing. I tried the levers on the wall first…and again had no luck. Whatever bamboo and coconut contraption that opened the roof had long ago rotted away to nothing. Fine, be that way. I sighed and began pushing all the piles of stuff to the wall nearest the grooves in the ceiling. If thinking wasn’t going to work, brute strength might. Once the pile was big enough to stand on, I climbed atop it and began heaving at one of the big panels in the ceiling. “Tch, like that’s going to work.” A voice echoed through my ears. I paused and looked around. It didn’t look like there was anyone here. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something talking to me. I kept pushing on the panel while looking around, trying to spot the speaker. “That’s right, keep pushing at literally a ton of metal and expecting it to move. It’s such an efficient use of your time.” The speaker was female. That much was obvious. She also spoke with a distinct accent that I didn’t know the proper name of. I usually just called it the “Harley Quinn” accent—all weird vowels, exaggerated T’s and D’s and a nasal whine that made you grit your teeth and shudder at the acoustic horror. “Well, if you have any better suggestions, I’m all ears.” I replied. Silence. I groaned and got back to work. Maybe the other panel would be looser. “You do know what they say about fanatics right?” I had just about had it with it stupid voice, “What? About them expecting different results from the same plan? Why no. Why don’t you come out and enlighten me?” “Look down.” Okay…this was making less sense by the minute, but I looked down regardless “At what? All I see is a pile of junk.” “Then maybe you need to look harder.” I gave her a flat stare—which is hard to do when you can’t see what you are staring at. “Very well O disembodied-reggae-space-voice, I am now looking harder.” I made an exaggerated farce of doing so. “I see some bits of scrap metal, an old wooden table, a big brass plate that might have reflected light at…” I paused as I realized what I was looking at…or rather who. The plate was polished to a mirror shine and the patina of dust did little to obscure it. I was looking my reflection, and a pony stared back at me. I leaped off my pile and began dusting off the old mirror, hoping to get a better look at who I was now. I was…basically the same actually. Back in reality I was six feet of white literature nerd. I had the classic brown hair and brown eyes and only exercised enough to stay sorta kinda skinny. My ponyfication had changed none of that; it just made the colors clearer. My face was covered in off-white fur and a lock of dark brown mane hung in front of my eyes. That struck me as awful drab for a Discord Curse, but since I wasn’t pink, I wasn’t complaining. I also noted that I did not possess a horn. Drat. Magic would have made my life so much easier. So would wings come to think of it. I shifted so I could see myself from the side, and got a major surprise. Not that wasn’t a Pegasus—oh no, wings would be waaay too convenient—but that I was a pinto. My back was all but covered in an ugly brown-bleeding-to-orange stain that snaked its way around my neck and shoulders and all the way down to my hindquarters. It looked kind of like a burn scar…or a Rorschach test, or something. All I knew was it made me the first bi-colored pony I could think of and that I didn’t like it. I also noted I already had one of those stupid stickers on my ass that the toys come with so you could tell them apart—mine was paired Comedy and Tragedy masks resting on a purple ribbon, which was odd since I hadn’t done anything theater-y in years. Oh well, it probably wasn’t all that significant. I twisted myself to get a better look at the stain. There was something here I wasn’t getting. Was it shaped like something, or just a random blotch? Maybe if I started tracing the lines… “Looking good, sexy.” “GAH!” I know I promised I wouldn’t freak out anymore—and I really meant it. But seriously, when part of your neck detaches from the rest of you, inflates into a head and sets itself on fire, you get freak out privileges. The head was soon followed by the neck, shoulders, back, and then everything else of the fire-girl that turned me into a pony in the first place. She was the brown patches on my coat! My head shot over my shoulder, only to find my back completely demon-less. And yet one look back in the mirror showed a fully formed fire-girl using my back as the set piece for a playboy spread—arms languidly wrapped around my neck and one leg cocked in the air and everything. Even so, I had to look back and forth several times to get it through my thick skull that she was only visible in mirror. Great, I now had voices in my head and suffered from delusions. Today was getting better and better. “Who are you, what are you, and why are you attached to me?” I barked. “D’aww…you’re even cuter when you’re flustered,” the fire girl giggled, “Your eyes get all narrow and your spine arches like a cat's. I wouldn’t be surprised if your hackles got up like one too.” She deliberately ran a hand over my back and shoulders…which I could feel like something sliding around beneath my skin. “Hmm…guess not, a shame” I shuddered like I was covered in cockroaches, “Would you kindly stop that?” “But you’re so soft and fuzzy!” she exclaimed, burying her face in my shoulder, “I just can’t help myself!” “Well try,” I snapped, “It’s really hard to think with you doing that.” Ugh it felt like her face was pressing out of my shoulder instead of in. “Aw gee Doc I didn’t know you cared…” she smirked, “You must be having a looong dry spell if face-to-shoulder is enough to get your motor running.” Good grief, Bugs Bunny meets Mae West; I’m going to need a lot of therapy after this. Her eyes glittered with mischief, “You wanna see what I can do with other parts? “NO!” I reared, but caught myself before I ran away screaming. The blunt method clearly wasn’t working here. I needed a new angle of attack. Banter perhaps; it worked well enough on Discord that it was worth trying on his minion. I cleared my throat, “I mean, no thank you miss. I’d much rather talk now.” She groaned, “Tch…typical guy, always with the mushy stuff first. I want some ACTION!” I rolled my eyes, “Well any "action" is going to have to wait until I know your name…a man has to have some standards after all.” Her brow furrowed, “…But you’re a stallion.” “Beside the point,” I replied, “The point is I appear to have a new imaginary friend and I would like to get to know her before she gets me into trouble.” “Hey, who are you calling imaginary?” She slapped my flank for emphasis…ow. “I’m as real as you are, buddy.” “I’m not your buddy, friend.” I said, “I know all my buddies’ names.” “Touché mine host, but you’re not getting anything from me,” She said, “Just because I was born yesterday, doesn’t mean I was born yesterday…there are all sorts unpleasant things you could do to a girl like me with my name—the boss told me so.” I sighed as if defeated, “Well fiddlesticks; I was so sure that would work.” I of course had barely a clue what “that” was, but she seemed more chatty when she thought she had the upper hand. “Ha!” She preened, “Showed you Mr. Moron! Setting such a pathetic ruse for the likes of me! I mean, what do you think I am? Dumb or something?” Oh dear god, that voice, that accent, that quote! I couldn’t laugh, she’d catch it and the whole game would be ruined. But it was so, damn, hard, not to! I had to be sure it wasn’t on purpose, that she really was as “dumb” as she looked and the reference was accidental. Wait a minute… “Well you sure showed me…Lina,” “Is…” She snapped, but before she could finish, her features softened, “Is that a nickname?” “It’s a pet name,” I corrected, “a sign of endearment. Since I can’t call you your real name I had to make something up. Do like it?” I could tell she did, even though she strove to hide it, “Ehh…it’ll do.” YES! She had no idea I had just insulted her! She wasn't in my head and didn't know any references to earth culture! Discord dun goofed on this one. “Excellent,” I smiled easily, “So then Lina, how do you propose I get that telescope-panel-thingy open?” “How should I know?” She countered with a similar smile. I frowned, “So this entire conversation to get on your good side was…” “Yup, a waste of time Danny-boy.” I was getting REALLY sick of everyone calling me that. I stormed away from the mirror and back up to the panel. What hadn’t I tried yet? “What,” Lina began talking almost immediately, “So you’re just going to go back to doing the same thing over again? Can’t you see it’s pointless? I mean, if I didn’t know I had turned you into a pony, I would’ve thought you were half mule…” And so on…for ten straight minutes the stupid thing jabbered on without stopping for breath or repeating herself. My gosh, it was like R. Lee Ermy had been reincarnated as a New York valley girl with a vocabulary of stupid almost-swear words. Meanwhile my heaving and hoeing and pounding wasn’t even budging the panels…a fact that “Lina” did not fail to comment on every chance she got. That must be why Discord gave her a personality, to drive me absolutely insane! “Good grief,” she continued, “What do they feed you where you come from? I don’t think you have the strength to buck a door open.” “Look,” I spun about to face her (well, her image in the mirror—you get the idea), “If you’re not going to say anything helpful, why don’t you just shut up and let me work?” “I did tell you something helpful,” She countered, “Give up. It’s your own stupid fault for not listening.” Then a thought hit me, “Did you just say ‘buck’?” There is a pause, “No” she said finally. “You did…” I laughed, “My gosh, I’ve been doing this backwards!” “What’re you talking about?” “Just watch,” I lined myself up against the panels—facing away from them. I’d been thinking like a human. Whenever I wanted to move something on Earth, I used my hands as bracers while my legs did the work. That really doesn’t work so great when you’re horse shaped. However there was one other way to apply force while shaped like this…Martial Arts movies don’t fail me now. “Kiai!!!” I reared backwards and slammed my back hooves into the metal with all my might. A thunderous clang rang out like a cookie sheet gong, which echoed around the room for a few moments before it died pitifully into silence. “Ha!” She laughed, “Fat lot of good that di…” The metal panel falls off its hinges with a resounding thunder, flooding the room with sunlight. “You were saying?” I asked pleasantly All I got out of her was a “Hmph!” and a very distinct sense that I was pointedly not being spoken to—it was the nicest feeling I’d had all day. Finally I could get back to business. I climbed up out through the hole and winced as my eyes adjusted to the early morning light. But the instant they did I saw something that stopped me dead in my tracks. From my perch atop the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters I could indeed see then end of the forest…and Ponyville too if I wasn’t too far off. But I could also see the farms and fields beyond Ponyville. The ordered trees of Sweet Apple Acres still flush with apple blossoms. The dirt roads like snakes over the sweeping hills and dales. The solitary houses and small hamlets that dotted the patchwork landscape of fields and orchards. A winding set of rails, complete with a little train huffing and puffing its way up the mountains to the majestic city of Canterlot. I could see it all, and I nearly wept at the sight of it. It was beautiful. I can’t explain it, not really. The best I can do is a metaphor. Think of a video game, one of those deliberately retro 2-D side-scrollers or fighting games made in the past couple years where all the power of the system’s engine has gone into making the prettiest characters and backgrounds it can muster. It looks like you’re playing a painting, or a Disney movie. Now imagine that artistry crafted on every leaf, every blade of grass, every rusty nail and every puff of smoke of one of those huge Warcraft style worlds, where every vista is reachable, every house is explorable and every NPC you meet has something fun to do for an hour or two. Now imagine someone made a real place that pretty and that huge and had shown it to you just as the Sun had finished rising, and the reds and oranges of the dawn were fading to the clear blue of a glorious spring morning. And imagine that you could tell that the sun was not there by chance—that someone had put it there just in case anypony was looking eastward this early in the morning and wanted to give them something spectacular. That was my first real look at Equestria. I found my mouth hanging open, trying every once in a while to form words but nothing more than a half-gasp to be heard. I felt my knees trembling, but I didn’t care. This was real, this was painfully gloriously real. And some two-bit Q clone was trying to use me to wreck it. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to do something to stop Discord before even a single step of his escape plan came to pass. “Hey,” I felt my unwoven coadjutor tap the side of my head, “You okay in there?” “I can’t let it happen,” I muttered. “What?” “Discord is not touching this place,” I said. My knees stopped shaking. I climbed completely out onto the narrow ledge around the observatory dome. “I’d die first.” I looked down…down down down to the courtyard below and resolutely took one step out onto open air. “What the Tartarus are you doing?!?” I felt my entire frame freeze up like someone had replaced my skin with an iron shell. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I said through involuntarily clenched teeth, “I’m killing myself before your boss breaks loose and turns it purple for kicks and giggles.” I could hear her incredulous expression, “You can’t just leap to your death! We still have days and days to play together!” “I don’t have time for games…I’m trying to die!” I said struggling against her chokehold on my skin, “Since when could you lock me dead like this anyway?” “Since always,” She replied, “Heck, it’s half the reason I’m here…to clamp you down before you do something stupid like throwing yourself off a tall building!” “Hey, if it’s stupid and it works…it ain’t stupid.” I snarled, “Besides, despite your piebald coat of paint, it’s still my body, I can do any stupid thing I please with it.” I tensed every muscle I had forward and felt myself tip a little. “No you can’t!” She shrieked, “I live here too now, you know.” “Wrong again.” I lurched forward again for emphasis, this time rocking back a bit as well, “You may think yourself a tenant, “Lina”, but you’re nothing but a parasite—one I’d gladly destroy without hurting myself if I could…” Another lurch, I was starting to get a bit of momentum, “But since I’m killing myself anyway, taking you down with me is a pretty sweet bonus.” Suddenly I felt her put all her force in front of me…stopping my momentum cold. I pushed back at her with all I could, but a body divided against itself could not stand. “I won’t let you do this,” She said, steel in her voice, “I’ve only just begun to live, and I…” she paused, “I don’t want to die.” There is the briefest of instants when I feel sorry for her, but that instant passed with one last look into Celestia’s sun, that glorious glorious sun full of the benevolence of the princess behind it “Then maybe you should have thought of that before you turned me into a pony!” I lurched forward again. But this time I’m pushing slightly to the right…directly toward my upraised forehoof. Since she was still pushing straight forward, she missed most of my force entirely. I come down like a toppled figurine, slamming my thigh hard on the parapet. But it was worth it. The angle of my fall was just enough to put my center of gravity over the edge and suddenly I was falling. “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” my demon cried, but I barely noticed. I was enjoying the wind, the slight whistling sound of the fall, the tumbling scenery. As deaths went, this one wasn’t too shabby. I could certainly think of worse anyway. Goodbye Equestria, I hardly knew ye. And screw you, Discord, I’m going home. To Be Continued?