Chapter 13: Official Functions
Onto the Pony Planet
Chapter 13: Official Functions
Admiral Biscuit
It wasn't very long before the door opened again, and Twilight Sparkle came into the room. She was wearing a flowing dark blue dress with stars on the hem and a curved bodice that resembled a saddle. Her hooves were covered in light blue boots like the golden shoes the guards wore. Two matching stars were affixed to each foreleg, and a large white star on her chest held the front of the dress together. Dale glanced over at the tall white unicorn, who now stood out for being the only one of the group who was completely nude.
Nude isn't right, though, Dale thought. She's covered in fur. But why is she wearing nothing, and the other three are wearing varying degrees of formal dress? This must have something to do with their social standing—the more formal the clothing, the more significant the pony is. Unless the tall white ones are all important leaders, in which case they wouldn’t want to cover themselves.
Twilight came over and nuzzled Lyra, then spoke to Dale. "Good morning," she said quietly.
"Good morning, Twilight," he replied. Fancy Pants looked surprised that he'd spoken in their language; his companion smiled brightly, before leaning over and whispering something in the stallion's ear.
Twilight briefly spoke with Lyra, and Dale was pleased to discover that he recognized a few words—not many, but enough to understand that the gist of the conversation was that they were about ready. Sure enough, the door opened and the tan pony with the cravat he'd already met peeked into the room and made a 'come along' gesture with her hoof.
The group was split up—he and Lyra were led back the way he'd come, while the others went in the opposite direction. As he passed the open office, he glanced through the door, where the stallion was still focused on his paperwork. A pair of guards escorted them back out to the carriage. Lyra didn't seem to think it was odd at all; she climbed gracefully up the step that one of the guards was holding for her.
He followed her in, and took his familiar seat back, while Lyra remained standing. Dale heard the command from the soldiers, and the carriage lurched back into motion.
It was a short journey. As the coach rounded a bend, Dale looked out the side window and saw their destination. The drawing had been a perfect representation; if he'd had a better view of the town from his hospital room, he would have already seen it. The height nagged at his mind—why would ponies want to build something so tall?—but the architectural details were quickly lost to a more vital issue.
There were hundreds of ponies clustered around the building, possibly even thousands. It looked like the crowd at an open-air rock concert, although they were quiet compared to a human audience. While most of them were standing around the building in a large arc, there were dozens of the winged ponies in the air above the crowd, all facing the stage.
He tried to study them as they blurred by, but there were simply too many to focus on. They had coats and manes in every color of the rainbow. Dale couldn't even imagine what sort of wild genetics could account for such a thing.
He caught sight of a stallion pushing a food cart and it relaxed him slightly. If they treated important politics like sporting events, he might do all right. It tugged at his memory that there was historical precedent in the United States, but maybe that wasn't right. It had been too many years since he'd taken a history class.
The carriage continued around the building, cutting off his view of the audience. It came to a smooth stop, and the door was opened by one of the guards. Dale motioned for Lyra to disembark, and then followed her out.
He took one step and stopped, just looking around. The guards waited patiently, one on either side of him. He wondered what they would do if he just started walking through town—would they follow alongside him? Would they point him back towards the door Lyra had just entered? And what if he still didn't obey? They would probably be reluctant to use force against him, and he could just feign ignorance and ignore verbal orders.
For a moment, the temptation was almost overpowering. Part of him resented the way they were leading him along like a child, showing him what they wanted him to see and taking him where they wanted him to go. Why shouldn't he be allowed to visit that small cafe with the mushroom-patterned tables if he wanted to?
In time, he thought. They need to know that they can trust me to behave before they'll give me free reign. Remember, Kate wrecked her hospital room and attacked her nurses. Surely the guards knew that, and they'd have no reason to believe I might not do the same.
Dale shook his head, not noticing the worried looks his guards were exchanging, and turned back towards the building. He walked quickly, afraid that if he dallied he might lose his nerve.
He stopped just inside the doorway. As wonderful as his glasses were, the transition from outside to inside took the lenses a moment to complete. Once he could see where he was going again, he followed the corridor towards the front of the building.
One of the guards motioned for him to enter a large room, and he complied. It was quickly evident that it had been re-purposed: a collection of stage flats was leaned against the far wall, and there was a rack of costumes partially covered by a black fabric drape. Since he had nothing better to do, he walked over to give them a look. He'd been mildly curious about how Lyra got into her dress, but it would hardly have been polite to ask her.
The hangers were strangely proportioned, since the clothing was longer than it was tall. He picked a costume at random off the rack, and looked around to make sure that the guards weren't trying to stop him.
That's really clever, he thought, as he slid his fingers along the seam. It would be hidden when the suit was worn, yet would allow it to fasten securely. The sleeves and legs—or would they all be legs?—were similarly designed.
He turned when he heard the distinct clopping of hooves on wood, and the tan pony entered, followed by Fancy Pants and the white unicorn. The tan pony cleared her throat and spoke a few words. Lyra nodded, while Twilight had an inscrutable expression on her face. Dale hung the costume back on its hanger and returned to the cluster of ponies.
Without anyone telling him, he knew when the mayor left that it was time to begin. Shortly after she left, he heard a thunderous rumble outside that set the floor trembling. He couldn't figure out what it was, but the other ponies didn't seem bothered by it. Twilight had a stack of notecards, and was shuffling them in front of her face with a small frown.
• • •
When the hoof-stomps had died down, Mayor Mare smiled brightly. She scanned the audience, not surprised to see that nearly everyone in town was present. Not just ponies, either: two cows were watching from under a tree, Cranky and Matilda were between Mr. Greenhooves and Mr. Wattles, and at the very back of the crowd, a griffon she didn't recognize was staring over the crowd. The griffon, she noticed, had a vacant space around it; no doubt her ponies remembered Gilda.
She waited a moment to begin. She'd discovered that if she didn't start speaking right away, the ponies paid better attention, as if what she was about to say was so important, she had to really think about it before she said anything.
“Fillies and gentlecolts of Ponyville,” she began, pausing for another round of hoof-stomps. “Thank you all for coming out on this momentous day. As you've read in the special edition of the Ponyville Express, our town was specially selected by Princess Celestia Herself to host the newest Equestrian embassy. In a minute, a very special guest from Canterlot is going to talk about that.
“I just want to say how honored I am that we have been chosen, and I know that everypony in town will do their part to make our foreign guests feel welcome.”
The mayor was savvy enough to know how well that line would be received, and she didn't even bother to begin the next line of her speech. It took a moment for her words to sink in, but when they did, she was greeted with a thunderous roar from the crowd.
“Thank you,” she said once the applause had died down. “Now, I know we all want to hear what Fancy Pants has to say, but first, Twilight Sparkle has a few words.”
She stepped down from the podium. The crowd was less enthusiastic about the thought of Twilight's speech—they all knew what constituted 'a few words' in the librarian's mind.
“Hello, everypony,” Twilight said cheerfully. “I'll keep this brief.” She looked down at the crowd. She didn't really like public speaking all that much, so she found it easiest if she could focus on one pony, and act as if she were having an everyday conversation, just speaking a little bit louder than usual. For important speeches, Applejack was usually her best bet. She got an honest reaction from the farmer, and she could adjust her speech as needed.
“Ah, as you all know, the Nobles' Council nominated a new ambassador and Princess Celestia dedicated a new embassy right here in Ponyville. It's for a new species of creature—one which the Princess discovered about a month ago—that comes from a distant land, farther away than anypony has ever been before. It's farther away than the moon, or the sun; it's orbited by a sun called Eratosthenes which is so far away it looks like a star to us.” She noticed that Applejack was rolling her eyes and flipped a few cards ahead. “Um, anyways, the Princess decided that these creatures were friendly, and suggested that Lyra began meeting with him. Meanwhile, I remained behind, studying books on their society which the creature had given us.
“After a couple of meetings, there was a . . . um, mishap, and two of the creatures found their way here, to Ponyville.” A small frown crossed Applejack's face. “It was a minor thing, nothing to worry about,” Twilight hastily amended. “The mare's magic caused a slight conflict in the field strength of the spell, which, according to Van Hoof's Law, inversely . . . um, well, it caused them to arrive here in an unfortun—unexpected manner.”
She leaned down and flipped through her notecards. “The stallion's name is Dale, and he'll be giving a short speech later. I've been meeting with him at the hospital, where he's been recovering from his injuries. Er, which were really quite minor,” she added.
“We're still learning about his civilization, and he's still learning about ours. Soon, he'll be out and about, and I want everypony to give a helping hoof, if they see he's having problems. I know this is the friendliest town in Equestria; that's why the Princess sent me here to study friendship."
She glanced over the crowd, finally settling on the flower trio, who were whispering amongst themselves. “Finally,” Twilight said, looking right at them, “I want it to be understood that Dale is not a monster; he's a rational creature just like us. Thank you.”
Twilight neatly squared her pile of cue cards back up and stepped back from the podium, taking a seat at the back of the stage next to the mayor. When a new speaker wasn't immediately forthcoming, the crowd began whispering to each other. Let them whisper, Twilight thought. They've already heard from two authority figures that there's nothing to be worried about, and Fancy Pants will have the crowd eating out of his hoof. He always does. At the same time, a nagging doubt was playing through her mind. Would they have been more at ease if she'd explained Van Hoof's constant to them? The equations were pretty simple; even a laymare would understand it if Twilight gave her a bit of a foundation to build on.
Or she could have said more about the books. Books were an important sign of civilization, everypony knew that. And the books Dale had given Lyra were marvelous—why, she had three notecards prepared listing the quality of the paper and binding and typesetting, and that was saying nothing of the beautiful pictures. Her left eyelid began to twitch. Where is Fancy Pants? Should I go back up to the podium and say a few more words? Her ruminations were cut short as the unicorn came forth.
“Hello, Ponyville,” Fancy Pants said loudly. He ignored the podium, instead walking to the very edge of the stage. “It's a great honor for Fleur and myself to be standing in front of you today, on this auspicious morn.” He waited to give the stallions a chance to look over at Fleur, who had taken up a position in the middle of the stage.
“You know, I've heard so much about your charming little town, and met so many wonderful ponies from here, it's a shame I haven't been able to make more time to visit.” He sighed and stepped off the stage, moving into the crowd. “I dare say, Fleur and I will be back whenever we can make time. You have the quaintest little restaurants, and your produce is far superior to what we get in Canterlot.”
“Naturally,” he said, pausing in front of a cluster of earth ponies with vegetable cutie marks, “when the Princess proposed constructing a new embassy right here, in Ponyville—away from all the petty infighting the nobles get to—I was ecstatic. It's ponies like you who make Equestria great, and it's ponies like you who are best suited to welcoming a new citizen to our great land.”
He gave them a moment to consider his words, as he moved through the audience. “Both your mayor and Twilight Sparkle said it: this is the friendliest town in all of Equestria.” He swept his hoof across the crowd. “All of you are what makes this town great, and carry within you the spirit of friendship which makes this nation great. So what better place—I ask you, what better place could there be for an embassy? Not in Canterlot, no.” He gestured toward the distant gleaming towers of the palace. “Down here. Right down here, where ponies know their neighbors and lend each other a helping hoof without even being asked.”
As the crowd thundered around him, Fancy Pants slowly walked towards a pair of unicorns. “Of course, what's an embassy without an ambassador?” He stopped in front of them and turned back toward the stage. “I regret that I cannot be the one to make the announcement—your wonderful newspaper has done that already—but it is my great honor to introduce Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings!”
Fleur was standing next to the curtain when Lyra came through, and she bowed her head as Lyra passed. The crowd's noise quieted enough that Fancy Pants could hear the clicking of cameras from the gaggle of Canterlot press. He was sure they'd gotten a whole roll of film of Lyra's procession to the stage, and he was equally sure one of those photos would make the front page.
Instead of going back up to stage and taking his seat, he remained where he was, standing with the crowd. Fleur sat down in the back, leaving an empty seat between herself and Twilight Sparkle, which would serve as a reminder to everypony in the audience that he was with them. Sky Dream had accused him of mingling with crowds as a political tool, but he'd never seen it that way. If he wanted to know what the common mare thought, the only way to find out was to ask her. And he'd met the most wonderful ponies that way. Good, salt-of-the-earth, hardworking ponies who didn't have a political agenda. Ponies who didn't talk about doing things, but just did them.
“I'm honored to be here today,” Lyra began. “I didn't expect this. I met Dale about a month ago, when Princess Celestia took a short vacation and asked me to come along, and, well, now I'm an ambassador.” She tried to block out the cameras on her left. “I'll keep it brief,” she promised. “I've spent days with Dale, and he's really nice when you get to know him. He doesn't speak Equestrian yet, but we're working on that. He only knows a few words.” She grinned at the crowd. “So his speech is gonna be a lot shorter than mine.”
She stood down from the podium, blinking a bit of sweat out of her eyes. It was just as well that she didn't know her entire speech would be re-printed verbatim in the Canterlot paper.
“Thank you, Lyra.” The mayor went back to the podium. “In just a moment, Dale is going to come out and meet everypony. After his speech, I’ll come back and answer questions, and then some of us are going to go to the new embassy.” She leaned forward, bracing her forehooves against the wood. “And I know you're all curious, but please let's not make a big spectacle. This is a quiet, boring, official affair, and it won't be helped along by hundreds of ponies with their muzzles pressed against the glass. Later, once Dale has had a chance to settle in, we're going to have a Ponyville party, where anypony who wants to can come up and meet him, but for right now, let's keep this laid-back, okay?” She pointed a hoof towards the photographers. “That goes for you, too.”
As soon as the mayor had taken her seat, every neck in the audience craned to see Dale. A hush fell over the audience, until a pegasus suddenly shouted “There he is!”
A murmur rippled through the pegasi, and cameras began clicking furiously. “I see him,” an earth pony called out, and then the whole crowd was talking as Dale made his way to the podium.
He grasped the wood tightly, his eyes roving over the vast audience in front of him. The whispers in the crowd briefly grew to a dull roar, before they faded out.
• • •
As soon as Lyra had left the room, Dale started pacing. He was never one for giving speeches, and the fact that he didn't speak the language was a strong argument against him saying anything. At the same time, they'd be recording this for posterity, so he'd have to say something that the history books could remember.
Was Neil Armstrong this nervous before he stepped on the moon? Was he thinking about how whatever he said was going to be witnessed by millions—maybe even a billion—people, and going to be in every history book thereafter? Because making contact with an alien civilization, while it might be old hat to the ponies, was arguably the single greatest thing mankind had ever done, even if it wasn't entirely by their choosing.
Dale smiled. Technically, this was far beyond first contact. First contact had happened on North Fox Island, and there were any number of historians and scientists would gladly have built a museum over the first messages he and Lyra had scratched in the sand—messages which had long since been erased by Lake Michigan.
His thoughts were interrupted by a stallion who pointed him toward the door. Dale nervously ran his hand through his wig before wiping it off on his peplos, and stepped onto the stage.
Hearing the noise of the ponies had been bad. Seeing them all was worse. The crowd grew in his estimation, spreading out in front of him as an all-encompassing mass that could have numbered ten thousand. He tried not to gawk, but his eyes kept being drawn to a new cluster of ponies. Off to his left was a group of winged ponies with cameras, all pointed in his direction. In the front, he saw Rarity, standing next to a mare wearing a cowboy hat, of all things. On her other side was a small purple and green lizard, who was dividing his attention between Rarity and the stage.
Further back, he saw his language instructor—Cheerilee, if he remembered her name correctly—standing guard over a group of foals, who were all staring at him intently. The little gray one who'd kissed the nurses and doctor in the morning was among the group, and when she saw he was looking in her direction, she gave a small wave before turning her head to talk excitedly to a fat yellow pony next to her.
There was a weird half-bird, half-lion standing by itself, and under a tree were a pair of cows. Suddenly, he remembered seeing a cow at the market—and hadn't it been with the blonde pony in the front row, the one who was wearing the Stetson? His stomach clenched as he thought of the creamer he'd blithely poured into his coffee. Had it come from one of those cows?
He slowly became aware of the loud silence hanging over the crowd and realized they were all waiting for him to speak. He relaxed his deathgrip on the podium slightly, briefly wondering if he'd squeezed it hard enough to leave divots in the wood, and cleared his throat.
“Hello, good morning.” Dale tried to remember other words he knew, but came up with nothing. Finally he shrugged—later on, he and Lyra could come up with a translation. “I know you can't understand me, so I'll be quick. Thank you all for coming out here to see me. I, um, I . . . this is unprecedented, we've always wondered if there were other civilizations out there, and I can't say how much it means to all of humanity to be the first man to have encountered one. I'm not the most qualified guy, but I'll do what I can. I hope you'll help me.” He took a deep breath, dredging the dusty corners of his brain for an appropriate way to end his speech, but couldn't come up with anything. He took a step back from the podium and glanced over at a row of chairs, before taking a seat next to Lyra. The chair was too short—uncomfortably so—and he wound up with his knees halfway up his chest.
The audience took a moment to react to his brief speech, but finally began stomping their hooves, shaking the ground. Dale instinctively reached his hand over toward Lyra, but stopped short, remembering the disapproving look Fancy Pants had given him. This was the last place he wanted to do something that might be inappropriate.
The tan pony went back to the podium, and spoke a few more words once the crowd had calmed down, before she motioned to the chairs. That was apparently the cue to leave, because the white mare stood and walked offstage, followed by Twilight—who seemed surprised that the speeches had ended. He stood after Lyra, and trailed her backstage.
Dale followed Lyra back the small room, but they didn't stay for long. Twilight and Lyra had a short conversation and were quickly joined by Fancy Pants; Dale was ignored.
It was a good sign, he reasoned. They were comfortable enough around him to let him have a bit more lead. He didn't notice the tall white unicorn moving towards him. Instead he was remembering that the fat yellow pony next to the foal from the hospital had had a horn.
Not a prosthetic, then. Had some of them had wings? They were too far away to be certain.
“Hello,” a voice said practically in his ear. He caught a white blur out of the corner of his eye and took an involuntary step back, which in turn startled the white pony.
“Sorry,” Dale apologized.
She reached up with a hoof and brushed a lock of hair out of her face before trying again.
“Good morning,” she repeated, sticking a hoof forward. Dale bumped it absently, thinking how that phrase was becoming rapidly useful. Thank heavens Cheerilee had taught it to him. “Fleur De Lis,” she said, touching a hoof to her breast.
“Dale,” he said, although he was sure she already knew that.
Lyra came over to him, one of Lyra's note-cards floating along in her golden aura. “Lyra, Dale go Dale new home.” She paused. “Is embassy. Dale new home is embassy.”
“Embassy,” he repeated carefully. She'd become lax about changing her voice, and he'd gotten used to it, although it was still difficult to pronounce their words.
She nodded. “Dale, Lyra go, then Fancy Pants, Twilight, Fleur, Mayor Mare.”
“Mayor Mare?” he asked. He hadn't heard that name before.
“Mayor Mare is pony make words first, make words last. Is there.” She pointed in the direction of the stage. “Now Dale, Lyra go—“ she held up the note-card, where there was a simple sketch of the pony-drawn carriage, a dividing line, and then a drawing of them walking—“this or this?”
He touched the drawing of them walking. It was a nice day, and after being trapped in the hospital for so long, he couldn't miss the opportunity to stretch his legs.
Of course, the guards weren't content to let him and Lyra travel on their own. Dale figured there was a good chance they’d be with him for a while. They were kind enough to try and remain back—clearly they trusted Lyra to keep him out of trouble.
He unconsciously adjusted his stride to match hers—while her gallop was much faster than he could run, his normal walking pace was quicker than hers, and he couldn't imagine that it would be comfortable to trot in that dress.
Dale glanced up as a shadow passed overhead, and he caught a glimpse of a gray pony with a blonde mane gliding towards the center of town. She was staring at him, and as a result nearly hit a tree. At the last second, she saw it and dove under the branches, before turning down a street and flying out of his sight.
As he looked around, he realized the presence of the guard wasn't entirely a bad thing—after the gray pony passed, a quartet of them took to the air and kept the sky overhead clear. He was hardly surprised to see two of the winged photographers he'd spotted before, keeping behind the imaginary line the guards had set, snapping pictures of them walking through town. Other ponies—both in the air and on the ground—watched him from further back.
Lyra led him across the broad field which surrounded the rotunda. The grass under his bare feet was well-groomed and he wasn't feeling any stones underfoot, which was fortunate since he didn’t have shoes. Somebody spent a lot of time keeping it neat, he reasoned.
They finally came to a street—it must have been important, since it was cobbled. Lyra walked across without even bothering to turn her head. Dale couldn’t help but stop at the edge and check both ways for traffic, although he saw no vehicles.
A few ponies were walking on the street, though. He didn't recognize any of them from the gathering, but it was certainly possible they had been present—they would have had enough time to go back to their ordinary lives.
• • •
As they continued through town, Dale began getting nervous. While he hadn't had the pleasure of attending any kind of formal event of this magnitude, it seemed like the kind of event where there would be all sorts of pomp and circumstance. There were crowds waiting when the president stepped off Air Force One, and a Marine band, as well as all the security detail. . . . He looked around him: he still had his own personal security detail, the four patrolling the sky and the others keeping a healthy perimeter around him and Lyra.
So it came as a bit of a surprise as Lyra led him to a very ordinary-looking half-timbered house, and she'd even opened the door before he realized it was his destination. There were no guards standing out front, no fancy gate and fence, not even an American flag flying out front. Dale smiled—maybe he'd see if he could get a flag for the house. He'd seen banners here and there around town, so some pony knew how to make them. All he'd have to do is make a sketch . . . although he suddenly couldn't remember whether the top stripe was red or white.
The front door was an entirely normal Dutch door, and Dale hesitated at the threshold, instinctively waiting for Lyra to precede him through the doorway. When she did not, he stepped through himself, and she followed him in, closing the door behind her.
He was not greeted by a brass band, nor a cluster of dignitaries, which was quite a relief. The front door opened right into a foyer, with a couple of doors leading off to his left, and a staircase along the south wall. Just like the hospital stairs, they hadn't bothered with handrails—what was even more disturbing was that one side was just open to the main room. That was something he was going to have to address; he could too easily see himself falling off the stairs, and while the hospital had been nice, Dale was in no hurry to go back as a patient.
Since there was no one there to make demands of him, Dale began looking around the room. The walls were a dark beige; when he put his hand against the plaster, it was still damp. He could smell fresh sawdust, and that—coupled with the emptiness of the foyer—made him suspect that they weren't done working on it yet. He grinned, his hand still resting on the wet plaster. They weren't expecting me to come along so quickly.
He turned at the sound of hooves on slate. Lyra was moving to the center of the room. She was looking around with a curious expression on her face: she hadn't seen the building yet, either. Dale walked over towards her, a big grin still on his face.
“Dale, Lyra see?” He encompassed the room with his outstretched arm.
Lyra nodded. “Lyra not see then; Lyra see first now.” She paused, then added: “Lyra, Dale see first now.”
A short hall led off to his right. A very formal looking dining table, complete with candlesticks in fancy silver candelabras and a flower arrangement in the center, took up most of the room. He thought about taking a brief walk down there, but figured that dining rooms pretty much all looked the same.
Instead, he went through the archway at the end of the foyer and entered the living room. Crystal lamps like the ones he'd seen in the hospital were mounted in wall sconces, with tapestries hung between them. A plain door was in the center of the east wall, while the north wall had a heavy oak double door which was wide open, and a second door marked with the silhouette of a pony. A quick check through that door verified that it was a bathroom—or would be, once they finished the plumbing.
Dale went through the double doors, and found himself in an office. There was a small desk in line with the door, where he could imagine a receptionist might sit, if he had one. He looked over at Lyra, who'd followed him into the room. Is she supposed to be my receptionist, or assistant, or what? He wasn't exactly sure what role she played in the whole enterprise, besides being his translator.
The end of the room towards the front of the house was dominated by a massive desk. He suspected that they might have had to take a wall down to get it into the house. It was a monstrous wooden edifice, big enough that it made him feel small. The chair behind the desk was too tall and too wide for a human, and it reminded him more of a throne than an office chair. It looked comfortable, though.
A Dutch door behind the desk opened into a small courtyard, which he gave a cursory glance before walking back out of the office. He wanted to see the rest of the interior before he walked around the outside.
Back in the living room, he opened the plain door, and closed it just as quickly. The room had four beds, each one with two small lockers at the foot. It didn't take much imagination to see that this was an attached barracks, so it was obvious that he was going to be keeping his contingent of guards for a while. That was something he should have expected.
Once they'd completed their initial tour, Dale looked at the stairs. He really wasn't looking forward to using them, although he was sure the problem was more psychological than anything. It was just like the steel-workers back in the old days, walking along beams hundreds of feet in the air with no safety net. They said the beams were as wide as a sidewalk . . . but he wondered how many of them had fallen off.
Deciding that the upstairs could wait, Dale went into the dining room. He had trouble picturing himself actually eating there; it looked like the kind of place where a servant would be on hand to take care of his every want, and was leagues away from the simple Wal-Mart card table he had at home for his meals.
A French door opened into another courtyard, which was fenced in by a hedge. That wasn't something they'd just done; it had to have taken years to grow it and groom it so neatly.
Dale turned his attention to the other door, which common sense said would be a kitchen. Unsurprisingly, it was. He took in the sink with a pump handle, the wood stove with a bellows and stack of firewood next to it, and shook his head. This was the kind of kitchen his grandmother would have been right at home in, but why here? He felt like he was missing something important.
"Dale," Lyra said, and pointed a hoof at the ceiling. "Dale, Lyra go up. Other ponies here soon."
The staircase was wider than a normal home's would be, although not as wide as an institutional staircase, like the one at the hospital. Just like that one, the risers were spaced completely wrong, which was another thing to add to the discomfort. He took a deep breath and began ascending, ignoring the mental images of himself tripping and falling, or Lyra butting him off the staircase like she was a goat. If she really wanted to make me fall, hitting me with a mattress—like she did with Kate—would do the trick nicely.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the top hallway. Counting the staircase, the upper hallways made a cross shape along the four cardinal directions; each of the hallways ended in a door, and there were entrances to four other rooms off the halls.
The first four rooms were all bedrooms. Each one held identical furniture: a king-sized bed, a wardrobe, small chest of drawers, a vanity with a mirror, a bedside table with a crystal lamp, and a trunk. Dale looked over at Lyra—who was inspecting a bed—and covered a snicker. While the beds were excessive by his standards, they positively dwarfed Lyra.
The north hallway ended in an unfinished bathroom; unlike the simple one on the first floor, this one was home to a luxurious tub, and an unfinished tile mosaic on the wall. He hoped that completing it was high on their list of priorities. Did they pull the workers off the job for the day so that we could come and tour the new house? He hoped not, but he had a feeling that they had. Of course, they could also be waiting to see what he wanted. A shower would be nice, even with the low ceiling. He'd have to tell Lyra to let them know to put one in.
He closed the door and walked back to the landing. Deciding that proceeding straight was his simplest choice, he walked to the end of the hallway and entered another office which took up the whole south side of the upstairs. Built-in bookshelves lined the exterior wall, which was only about four feet tall because of the slope of the roof. Three dormers let in plenty of light, and there were additional windows in the east and west walls.
A short ladder led up to the attic. Dale peeked in, noticing a large supply of newly-cut boards placed across the rafters, along with a collection of crates and barrels. He considered taking a closer look, but decided that the construction ponies wouldn't be happy if he messed with their stuff, and climbed back down the ladder.
He went down the last hallway, finding himself in another long, narrow room. This one had two small beds arranged side-by-side, with a shared center table. It reminded him of a hotel room.
"Is Lyra?" he asked, pointing to the beds.
"No," she said. "Is . . . other ponies." She tapped her hoof on the ground, trying to think of how to describe them. "Is help ponies." She nodded, happy with her explanation.
"Help ponies?" Does she mean servants, or something else?
Lyra nodded. "Make Dale food, make help Dale shirt pants, make embassy . . . happy."
Dale frowned. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It would be nice to be able to focus on his job—whatever that was going to be—without having to worry about taking care of the house, or cooking, or shopping, or any other domestic chore, but at the same time, servants were the kind of thing that the idle rich had, not normal people. And weren't they calling them 'domestic assistants,' now, anyway, to get rid of that stigma? Of course, he probably wasn't going to have much say in the matter. He was going to get them, whether he wanted them or not.
Since the room had been built in a lean-to fashion, the ceiling was sloped towards the outside wall: more of a problem for him than Lyra. There were two dormer windows, and a third dormer with a door in it. Dale ducked into the alcove and opened the door, revealing a small deck with a pony-sized railing and stairs leading down to the backyard.
A newly-constructed fence delineated the property, although it was hardly a privacy fence—he would have expected the building to be more isolated from its neighbors, but their windows overlooked the backyard. Dale imagined that the pony paparazzi were already making arrangements to rent those rooms.
Behind a screen of hedges, Dale found an outhouse. Aside from the door having the silhouette of a pony, it was essentially the same as every other outhouse he'd ever seen. A basket of flowers filled the air with perfume, and there was a bucket of white powder with a small scoop next to the toilet. It tugged at his memory—he was pretty sure that you were supposed to dump some in the pit after using it—but he couldn't remember what the powder was. At least the outhouse solved one problem with the unfinished bathrooms, but he'd really have liked to find a shower or bathtub, unless the construction crew was planning on having the plumbing done tomorrow. If not, he could always go back to the hospital.
His tour completed, Dale re-entered the house from the side door, holding it open for Lyra to pass.
• • •
When Dale came back from the courtyard, he discovered that there was a wagon out front, and two ponies wearing aprons—a pudgy blue mare and a gangly yellow stallion—were in the foyer, setting food out on the tables. Taking that as a hint that the reception was about to begin, Dale went into the bathroom and inspected himself in the mirror, making sure that his makeup was still presentable and his wig was still on straight. Fortunately, it was—he wasn't sure what he would have done if it hadn't been, since the house was lacking in basic toiletries.
When he came back out of the bathroom, Lyra went in—clearly having the same idea he'd had. He went under the archway into the foyer, where there was an unfamiliar pink mare wearing saddlebags strapped on her back. She smiled at him and stuck out a hoof. He stole a quick glance at her hip, in the hopes it would identify her role. It was three white stars in a diagonal line, with the center star bigger. What it meant was beyond him.
“Hello,” Dale replied, crouching down and gently touching the end of her hoof. “Dale.”
“Starlight,” she replied, giving him a quick handshake, after which she spoke a rather long sentence. Dale shook his head, and her smile faded, but a moment later it was back as if it had never left. She said something else—the only word he picked out of it was 'Lyra'.
Dale looked back at the bathroom door, then pointed in case she didn't know where Lyra was. She nodded pleasantly, before her ears swiveled back at the sound of approaching hooves. A light blue unicorn mare dressed in a short yellow skirt came down the stairs and boldly walked over to Dale, tipping her head when she was close. “Diamond Mint,” she said simply.
“Dale,” he replied, tapping his chest. Apparently she doesn't go for handshakes. He smiled broadly at her, not sure if there was something else he should do to be properly social. Meanwhile, Starlight headed for the stairs and disappeared on the second floor. Dale listened to the soft clopping of her hooves as she moved down the hallway—it was really weird to hear them overhead.
I wonder if those are the servants? The unicorn stayed near him, as if she were waiting for orders. Or maybe she was just watching him; maybe she just thought he was unusual enough to warrant a close study.
The two ponies who were catering had finally finished setting up the tables to their satisfaction, and retreated to the hallway between the foyer and dining room. As soon as Starlight descended the stairs, the pudgy mare called out to her, and she joined them, then the trio headed towards the kitchen.
Dale moved over to one of the benches in the living room and took a seat, since he had nothing better to do. He was curious what they were doing in the kitchen, but knew that they'd rather not have him in the way, and it just seemed awkward to be standing around next to her.
He was studying one of the tapestries, which showed a starscape at the top and a crescent moon at the bottom, when someone began knocking on the front door. Before Dale could even get up, the unicorn had trotted over to the door and opened it, smiling politely at the visitor. Dale leaned forward, instantly recognizing Nurse Redheart. She didn’t have her nurse’s cap on, and Dale wondered if she was off-duty for the day.
Diamond stepped back to let her in, and Redheart made a beeline for Dale, who crouched down to greet her. She hugged him before reaching into her bag and pulling out his neatly-folded clothes with her teeth. One item at a time, she made a small stack of the clothes next to him, until her bag was empty.
Dale looked over at the small pile of clothing. Besides what he was wearing, it was everything he owned now. It was kind of sad, when he thought of it like that. He picked the shirt off the top of the pile and ran his fingers over the new seams Rarity had sewn.
Redheart gave his thigh a gentle nuzzle, then she turned tail and walked back out the door.
I must be cured. Dale re-folded the shirt and set it on top of the stack. A moment later, it was surrounded by a pale blue aura, and he glanced at Diamond, who had the same color corona surrounding her horn. He dully watched as the pile of clothing was lifted off the cushion.
She looked at him expectantly, and he realized that she wanted to put the clothes in his room for him. Since she hadn't already left, she didn't know which room was supposed to be his—as all four were identically furnished, he supposed he ought to choose one.
With a sigh, he got up off the couch. As he trudged up the stairs, he weighed the advantages of each of the four bedrooms, finally deciding on the one in the front of the house next to the office: a west-facing window would be nice at night, plus it would give him a view of the street below. It wouldn't have the potential disadvantages of a bedroom sharing a wall with the bathroom, and he wouldn't have to contend with being blinded by morning sunlight.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed that the door into the servant's room was open, and Starlight was standing on her hind legs, tugging a skirt over her head. Dale stopped mid-step and stared as she wriggled it down her body, shifting it around with her forelegs before she dropped back to all four hooves, satisfied with how it sat.
He suddenly remembered that Diamond Mint was right behind him, and resumed his trek, keeping his eyes low and wondering if Starlight had seen him watching. What would she think? She wouldn't care, right? She wasn't wearing anything when she came into the house, so why should she care if I saw her getting dressed? But . . . it's just not right to be spying on her like that, even if she did leave the door open, is it? Or don't care? Rarity had to be told . . . there have to be dozens of layers of social etiquette involved, he thought. If only Emily Post were here, she could explain it all to me. He pushed open the door to his bedroom and let Diamond Mint enter.
She glanced around the room, taking in its emptiness, and frowned, before levitating the clothing over to the dresser. She expertly sorted it in the air, putting identical items in drawers, hesitating slightly as she lifted his socks. It looked even more depressing when they were sorted: one drawer held two pairs of socks, when it could have held dozens. Dale was never one to figure that a man's worth was measured in personal belongings, but at the same time, two pairs of socks was not enough. He thought a man ought to have two week's worth of clothing at a minimum.
Diamond Mint gave him a look that said 'Is that all?' and Dale gave her a shrug.
Once I start earning money—if they have money—I'll have to buy some more clothes. That's my first priority. He looked down at his bare feet. Okay, shoes first. Then clothes.
• • •
Lyra came out of the bathroom just in time to see Dale headed upstairs with Diamond Mint following behind him. The Cakes were bustling around in the kitchen, making sure that everything would run smoothly. Normally, Pinkie helped cater these kinds of parties, but since she was an Element bearer—and since Twilight had decided that things might run more smoothly if she wasn't given any responsibilities—the hyperactive mare wasn't present.
She looked around the living room one more time, making sure that everything was in place. Everypony knew it wasn't finished yet, but it wouldn't look good to have a guest trip over a hammer, or something like that. If Diamond Mint and Starlight had arrived sooner, they would have done it themselves.
Starlight came down the stairs, wearing a neat skirt. “It's almost time,” Lyra reminded her.
“I know,” Starlight said. She took a deep breath and extended a hoof in front of her chest, sweeping it across the floor as she exhaled. “Okay, I'm ready,” she mumbled, walking over to the door.
Lyra looked up the stairs as Dale came down, giving him a big smile. When he reached the floor, she trotted over to him and nuzzled his hand—he seemed to like those little affectionate touches, and it was much easier than standing on her hind legs and giving him a proper nuzzle on the cheek.
Diamond disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a knife floating point-down in her field. She set it on the table and made one last inspection, before taking her place at the head of the table.
It was just in time; a soft knocking sounded from the door. Starlight opened the top half first and hooked it against the wall, then opened the lower door to allow Mayor Mare to enter the room, followed by Twilight.
Instead of approaching her or Dale, the two mares took up a prominent position in the center of the room, where they could intercept and greet the first wave of guests—nobles from Canterlot. Fancy Pants and Fleur were the first to enter, of course, but they were trailed by a group of worthless nobles whose only purpose in coming was to be seen with Dale. Most of them skipped the refreshments, instead quickly mobbing Dale and Lyra, while their personal photographers discreetly took pictures. One of them—Sky Dreams, if she remembered correctly—did take a glass of punch from Diamond Mint, quaffing half of it before he made his way to an unoccupied corner of the room. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he pulled a silver flask out of his vest and used it to top off his punch.
“Excuse me,” Starlight said quietly. Lyra looked at her in surprise—she hadn't heard the mare approach. “If it's not too much bother, there's a griffon at the door who wants to come in.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He wasn't on the guest list. I asked Fancy Pants, and he said it would be impolite to snub him, but if you don't think Dale is up to meeting him, I can have him sent away.”
“I don't know how to explain it to Dale,” Lyra admitted. “But I think the Princess would be mad if we kept him out.” She let her eyes wander over the crowd of nobles and smirked. “Besides, it might shake them up some.”
“All right. I'll tell the guards to let him by.” Starlight made her way through the crowd, skimming around the edges of clusters of nobles.
“Dale,” Lyra said quietly, tapping his leg with a hoof to get his attention. “Is, um, new not-pony soon. Is okay, is friend.”
He nodded absently, trying to focus on the buzz of conversation around the room. She felt bad for him—Dale had to be completely overwhelmed by the nobles.
Suddenly, the room fell silent as the griffon entered. His eyes locked on Dale, and he began moving across the foyer as ponies scrambled to get out of his way. Dale took a step back, as well; Lyra pressed up against his leg as a reminder that she was there—and she also closed her eyes for a moment, calling up a shield spell. Just in case.
The griffon stopped just short of the couple, his eyes unashamedly taking Dale's measure before he spoke. “I am Sharpbeak, son of Swiftwing here to offer our regards to the new ambassador from the planet of the sun of Eratosthenes.” He tilted his head towards the couches. “I see that the minotaurs have already made their contribution.”
“I am Grandmaster Lyra Heartstrings of Her Majesty's Auxillary Royal Unicorn Guard,” Lyra said back, her face expressionless. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” She extended a hoof, keeping her face blank as he took it in a talon and proceeded to try and crush it. “And he is Dale Paard, ambassador to all of Equestria.”
“I see.” Sharpbeak released her hoof and extended a talon to Dale, who still seemed mildly in shock.
Dale took the proffered limb, wrapping his fingers around Sharpbeak's talons. The two stared at each other for a moment longer, before they began their handshake. Sharpbeak finally broke Dale's grasp, lowering his talon back to the floor. “He's stronger than he looks,” he mumbled. “It was a pleasure to meet you both,” Sharpbeak said loudly enough for everypony in the room to hear. “I look forward to working with you in the future.” With that said, he turned and walked out of the embassy, taking flight as soon as he had cleared the door.
Even before Sharpbeak took flight, Lyra had felt Dale's hand resting in the back of her neck, and she could feel the pulse hammering in his hand. I shouldn't have told Starlight to let him in, she thought. He wasn't prepared for that at all. How was he going to react to a minotaur or diamond dog? She closed the distance between them again, lightly touching his leg. What if Chief Thunderhooves wants to meet him, or even a dragon? I'll have to remember to leave a note for Twilight to have Cheerilee go over a primer in the species of Equestria tomorrow.
“Is friend,” Lyra reminded Dale, even though that wasn't quite true.
Before they had time to fully recover from the griffon, a cluster of professors entered. Lyra recognized Apple Polish and Dean Bright Star from her time in Canterlot. Before they could even make their way across the room, there was a flash of green, and an enthusiastic pegasus was hovering above a silver-coated noble whose name Lyra couldn't remember, studying Dale with a maniac grin on her muzzle. An instant later, her tail was enveloped in a magenta glow, and she was yanked across the room, where she hovered in front of Twilight.
Lyra turned an ear, curious what Twilight would do about her, but she kept her voice down, to avoid disturbing the other guests. Featherbrain, on the other hoof, was not so restrained. “I'm only banned from the hospital, she protested loudly. “Nopony said I couldn't come to the embassy.”
Lyra glanced back at Bright Star, who looked like she wanted to dig a hole in the floor and dive into it. Lecol was ignoring them both, and had moved up to Dale, giving him a warm hoofshake before she moved aside to let Perry Pierce have a turn. Ivory Star had stopped by the refreshment table, and was loading a plate with a sensible amount of fruit and a single brownie.
Once they'd all given their greetings and moved back, Twilight finally let go of Featherbrain's tail, and the pegasus took a moment to smooth it back in place before trotting over to Dale. After she'd introduced herself, she retreated to the couch, where she squeezed in between a pair of unicorns and simply watched Dale.
At least she's quiet now, Lyra thought as the door opened and Rarity entered, followed by Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash. She watched with amusement as Rarity stopped Dash from flying straight to Dale—which caused her to take her attention off Pinkie. The earth pony happily zipped over to the table and had eaten two plates of desserts before Rarity noticed she was gone and corralled her, finally bringing the three mares over to Dale.
While they were introducing themselves to Dale, Bon Bon came in the front door and waved happily at Lyra, who gave her a more subdued wave in return. As soon as the Element bearers had split up, she came over, hugging Lyra.
“Is Bon Bon,” Lyra told Dale.
He crouched down to give her a hoofshake. “Dale,” he said, his voice scratchy.
“We could use a drink,” Lyra told Bon Bon. “Haven't had time yet.”
Bon Bon nodded and trotted over to Diamond Mint, who followed her back with a pair of glasses floating in her aura. As soon as they'd finished their punch and given the glasses back to the unicorn, Lyra leaned close to Bon Bon. “If you go through the office to my right, there's an entrance to a private courtyard with an outhouse. Stay close to the wall of the house, and nopony will know you're there.”
“Is that really necessary?”
Lyra grinned. “Isn't it more fun when you don't ask permission first?”
“It won't be fun if somepony brings it up tomorrow,” she mumbled, before giving Lyra a quick peck on the muzzle. “I'll mingle for a bit, then head outside.”
• • •
If he hadn't been a guest of honor, Dale would have left the party hours ago, but of course he was stuck. He felt like a trained chimp being paraded in front of a group of high-class Victorians, and his only solace was the occasional trips to the dessert table.
The two ponies who'd set it up, assisted by Diamond Mint, made sure that the table stayed full, despite Pinkie Pie's best attempts to deplete it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the guests trickled out the door. As Diamond helped the caterers clear the tables, Dale collapsed on one of the couches, his legs sore and his face hurting from the fake grin he'd had plastered on all evening.
He yawned, not bothering to cover it, and debated whether or not it was worth trying to move, or if he should just stay where he was. As much as not moving again was a worthwhile plan for the night, his bladder had other ideas, and he groaned and got back to his feet, glad that he'd had time to find the outhouse before the party began.
The outside air was a welcome relief. Dale yawned loudly as he followed the path to the outhouse. Between the moon and the light streaming through the windows of the house, he had no trouble navigating the yard, and when he got to the outhouse, he was happy to discover that someone had thought to hang a lamp inside.
Once he was done, he tarried in the yard briefly, getting a feel for how things looked at night. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he walked over to the house, where the bathroom curtains were blowing outside the open window.
That was closed earlier, he thought, unless Lyra opened it when she was checking her makeup in the mirror. Dale pushed the glass shut, noticing a small streak of dirt on the windowsill, almost as if someone had climbed through. Intrigued, he pulled the window back open and looked inside, but he could see no one in the unfinished bathroom, and the lawn yielded no clues.
When he finally went back inside the house, the caterers were gone, and the living room was empty.
That was as good a sign as any that the night was over, he reasoned. Dale trudged up the stairs, pushing open the door to his room. The covers on the bed were turned down, and a pitcher of water and a glass and been placed on the bedside table for him.
He closed the door to his room and hung his toga up in the wardrobe, then padded over to the window in his underwear. He opened the window and stuck his head out, looking up and down the mostly-deserted street, before looking down at the pair of guards who were flanking the front entrance.
Dale left the window open and climbed into bed, reveling in the luxurious feel of the mattress. He turned off the lamp and listened to the creaks and pops of the house settling for the night, along with the steady song of crickets and frogs. It was so quiet and peaceful, it reminded him of visiting his great uncle's farm back when he was a kid.
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Have you considered a time skip? The language barrier makes sense, but it got old several chapters ago.
The other thing that grates on me is the Dale has seen quite a few "mythological" species, but still thinks that he's dealing with an extremely technologically advanced civilization (I mean, from an outside point of view, he thinks he's in a science fiction plot, but has landed in a fantasy magical kingdom). At some point I would expect him to consider that he has made some erroneous conclusions, now that he has been able to observe more of their society.
4311997
Language barrier is never old here. It's a welcome novelty any time! Especially when it's not immediately resolved.
And yes, not recognising a griffin is something I cannot wrap my head a round as well... I mean, griffin! How can you not know that?
If he won't be able to recognise a minotaur I call bull... oh...
He needs Catherine around. It seems like she would be the first to point out some obvious facts to him. When she's off meds, obviously.
Welp, can't wait for more!
Keep up the good work!
4311997
I think we saw the beginning of him catching on in this chapter. The kitchen is the example that comes to mind - he noticed how archaic the facilities were, but was clearly too distracted to put the pieces together.
I'm curious as to what Bon Bon was up to.
Ugh party filled with brown nosers. Terrible. Good to see a new chapter though.
Twilight is disastrously bad at public speaking. Makes sense.
I wonder why Lyra is so worried about diamond dogs or minotaurs considering that they are more similar in a lot of ways to a human than a pony or griffon is... I CAN understand the apprehension of a meeting with a dragon though.
I do not see the need for a time skip.
I do think that Dale should have figured out by now that the technology of the ponies is not huge. Of course sufficiently advanced magic can be very similar to technology just like sufficiently advanced tech can seem like magic.
Where lyra and Bon having a quickie in the bathroom or outhouse?
This is all well and good, and perfectly paced, but what is going on back on Earth?
The two bits I wanted to see got left out... Plus the whole open window thing that might be important later on.
You cruel cruel man, not having us meet the griffin from Dale's perspective. Plus I want to know what hijinks Bon Bon was going to get up to... I need to get my mind out of the gutter for that one.
How do Griffons fit in his class structure assumptions?
4311997
He's already said the language barrier will never be fully resolved, which, to be honest, frustrates me. But that's how it is.
Given the layout of town, I cant remember if they are building the whole thing from scratch, what carpark? or adapating an existing building, too many bedrooms upstairs to rooms downstairs? Most likely Im just useless at visualising plans from descriptions. 8(
Puzzled as to having guards posted, yet he didnt mention the window, or they hadnt spotted it on patrol, if they do yet?
Minotaur furniture good, bouncy freindly mares confusing.
Hope the yard is big enough for Kathrin to train throwing guards around in.
We don't really need to know things that Dale's not noticing when viewing from Dale's perspective.
Also, I was a bit disappointed in the relative brevity of many of the introductions. Fleur especially, since she could have had some time to do more than say hello. It's fine though. This was supposed to be showing Dale off and it shows just how much is being thrown in his face. I'd have to read it again to really get everything straight, so I kind of feel like Dale right now.
Now what the heck was Bon Bon up to?
4312376
To be fair, This is the town that is the most liable to panic that we see in canon... I'd second guess everything I say while saying it too if I had to deal with that.
So... What were Lyra and Bon Bon doing outside? Things?
naughty things?
Another excellent chapter, I have to say. Though that bit with the window is beyond unsettling.
I enjoyed the portrayal of purple smart :) I think what I enjoy most about this fic is that it requires less suspension of disbelief, that and the characters are so... well in character.
4312998
Not exactly what I was referring to. She keeps stumbling over herself and seems incapable of judging what exactly should or should not be included, which makes sense with the whole socially awkward thing.
I think the story has evolved as far as it can without something new happening.
Dale's become an ambassador, the embassy has been (mostly) built, the majority of ponies know about him. I'm looking for something to happen with the story now; a kidnappings, dimensional breech, sudden death of Katherine due to an allergic reaction to pony hair (who knew all that cuddling would kill her?).
At this point I feel like nothing worth paying attention to is going to happen. It's a great premise, but at this stage I'm feeling unfulfilled. Sorry if this comes off as harsh.
4312254
Dale's more of a sci-fi buff than a high fantasy reader. Even if they didn't watch the show, most of my readers would recognize the majority of the creatures in Equestria from experience with role-playing games, Magic the Gathering, video games, or high fantasy novels and comics--but would a retired machinist?
4312295
Yes; good eye.
4312366
I've been to those parties--not political, but academic. As a hands-on guy with a physical job, I can say that they're unbearable.
4312380
Physically, yes; mentally, not so much. Also, Lyra is going to be projecting pony bias on those creatures, inadvertently coloring Dale's potential reaction with her own biases. I think--and have suggested in this story--that the only reason Iron Will was so well received in Ponyville was because of a good marketing campaign, which makes sense if he's making a living as a motivational speaker.
He's starting to catch on--he just hasn't had time to slow down and actually think through what he's seen and what he hasn't. For many people, preconceived notions take a while to change, even when there's overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
4312451
No, but that's a reasonable guess.
4312550
It's too soon for answers. Until they find Dale's car, they don't know who he is--his fingerprints and DNA aren't in a national database. The serial number on the canoe is a dead end: it's 40 years old, and Dale would have bought it with cash from 'some guy,' decades ago. Tests on animal DNA take a while to complete, especially when no university on earth has unicorn DNA in their database. Grey's School of Wizardry won't be any help on the books Lyra left behind . . . so right now, they've got a preponderance of evidence and a paucity of leads.
4312594
Now I'm curious what those are....
You may yet get that in a side story; the first draft was the party from Dale's POV, but I changed it because--quite frankly--it was boring. Part of the reason for delay in the chapter posting was the 5000 or so words of stuff I purged from the chapter.
4312654
They don't--a reasonable human perspective is one sapient species per planet. After all, that's all we've ever experienced (the exception is Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens, and that was a long time ago).
4312866
The house is being refurbished; it was Moonglow's home before. That detail may not have been mentioned in the main story, but it's brought up in two of the side stories:
(bad grammar and spelling is intentional)
Never mind the yard; they should have included a 'cuddle room' for Kate and a couple of ponies.
4313301
4312916
You'll find out in the next chapter!
4314602
Oh dear, Im doing it again, maybe I should try going to bed before the sun comes up again. Quite possibly my being dumb is reason for the prior downvote, or I really annoyed someone.
If so, I apologise for giving someone more reason to dislike anything about your stories.
4312916
Yes; that was a mistake I should have caught in editing.
The chapter was about 5000 words longer in the rough draft, but I thought that was simply too much of the same thing over and over again. Some of the material may yet resurface in the side-stories (as deleted material), or as later flashback scenes. In all honesty, though, it would be incredibly overwhelming to Dale, especially as he doesn't speak their language fluently.
4313378
Thank you!
4312998
4313440
You're both right--Twilight knows that rumors can cause problems (Zecora, AB in Cutie Pox), and she also is aware that sometimes telling ponies what's really going on makes things worse (again, Cutie Pox is a good example).
On top of that, she very likely suffers from the academic's problem of over-explaining things. Combine that with a bit of overanalysis, and you've got the formula for disaster when it comes to public speaking.
4314691
There needs to be a scene where Dale, exhausted, tries to get away from all the publicity and ends up sitting on a bench next to Big Mac. His introduction is passing over a hard cider. Then they just sit there a la King of the Hill.
"Eyup."
"Mmmmhmmmm."
*silence*
"Mmmmhmmmm."
"Eyup."
*silence*
4314746
One of the omakes on Quantum Castaways went much like that...
Also, there's a 90% probability that wall-repair pony will feature in one of the next two chapters.
4314580
Please do not purge large sections like that -- at least without putting the excised portion somewhere so your readers can decide if it was "that boring" or not. I mean even if you had a scraps thing where you put that kind of part, it would be worth it(assuming it was not good enough for a side story) or you could put it in a blog or a link in a blog.
4314802
It's saved for posterity--I never just delete something without saving, because one never knows when it will come in handy.
Once I determine for certain that I won't use the scene ever, it'll go into the scrap pile, and then may subsequently cleaned up as a side-story, or published as an attachment to a blog post, like the scene in CSI where Luna was playing hide-and-seek with the guards.
4313752 No,no. That is a perfectly legitimate complaint. I am waiting for the sudden realization that ponies are low tech or a leap in language skills, myself. But the author has shown an ability to bring up issues I would not have considered. So wee will see when we see.
Poor Twilight, social awkwardness will pass one day....
We wonder what Kate was up to this day, has she made anyone run away screaming yet? Or has her petting tendencies gathered her a fan club? Hmm, that might be something for a side story...
Keep going! ;)
4314602
How about this: Kate gets her own little petting zoo in the backyard, where love starved ponies can come by ocassionally and volunteer to be petting pets for half a day. They get belly rubs, ear scratches and soft mane tussles for free! Maybe they can even get payed for their 'work'.
4314432
I'm thinking it's more a shock of stark reality versus fiction. It's one thing to hear stories and pictures of a tiger, it's entirely different and utterly awe inspiring (and slightly terrifying) when you shake hands and get breathed on by one of those huge creatures. Ponies are cute and cuddly, gryphons are man-sized birds of prey with far too many sharp pointy bits. That said, I believe Dale might actually enjoy meeting a dragon (hey, girls want to meet unicorns, us boys got dragons).
4314602
4315512
Nopony is safe from the smaller human! Pinkie Pie will have to do the noble thing and throw herself at the Kateness, sacrificing her body and pride so that other ponies will not be suffer the public humiliation of so much squee-filled hugging and petting and combing of one's mane into silly braids.
The only true weapon to combat this smaller human will be to send in the foals. Their combined cuteness should be enough to overwhelm and defeat the Kateness (whereupon she collapses on the floor in a fit of "diabitus" and is swarmed by the many foals like the cliched photo of a girl being swarmed by eager puppies). If anything, it'll at least make for some interesting exclusive pictures for the Ponyville newspaper.
p.s. My thought on the open window was it being Featherbrain. I was so certain, I had to re-read the end where Dale fell asleep in bed. There wasn't a pair of pony eyes watching him from on top of the dresser. Maybe she's just hiding under the bed, waiting for him to fall asleep before doing... whatever a human obsessed pony does.
4314746 yessssss
Are Lyra and Bon Bon engaging in a midnight rendezvous?
4313314
I have a feeling that smudge was bonbon getting in the window
I assume that Lyra wants sexyfuntimes or just company
4314789
Yay! Now for an awkward scene where the human ambassador insists on spending time helping wall repair pony plastering his own walls while the servants look on helplessly. Even better if someone high up like Fancy or Fleur walks in, wonders just WTF is going on, and Lyra nonchalantly tells them it's a "Dale thing."
4315708
The building shall be christened "Human Embassy and House of Cuddles."
The thing that worries me is that, given the first few days, the ponies might be planning on the humans sharing a room. Gregarious society coming from a herd species not realizing that the two humans might not be as comfortable with such casual intimacy.
4315953
Eyup.
4314580 if that's the case, would he not assume a sort of alliance of inhabited planets, with his own next on the welcome?
((I preface this post with a preemptive apology if I come across as unnecessarily hostile. I haven't slept yet and my sarcasm filters aren't working.))
4314432
And all those high fantasy creatures ended up in modern fantasy because they first appeared in much, much older literature and art that Dale would have known about if he graduated highschool. I mean, Pegasus is one of the most well known mythical beasts in all of Greek mythology, while unicorns and gryphons feature prominently in medieval and renaissance era European mythology.
I'm not saying that he needs to be like, "Holy fuck! Taht's a gryphon!" or anything, but you'd think he would at least think to himself how much they all look like the famous mythological creatures from his world. Since his misconceptions of pony society are actually one of the few interesting things that ever happen during Dale's perspective moments, I like having them in there, but on some of the stuff it's getting to the point where I feel like he's being deliberately obtuse.
If Dale doesn't even consider the possibility that gryphons are sapient beings on this planet after one walked up to him, shook his hand, and then carried on a conversation in perfect Equestrian with Lyra I just....I will have lost all respect for him as an intelligent being. And that respect is already wearing dangerously thin.
4313752
Unfortunately, all we have to look forward to on the horizon is a trial. woo......
I can see that it's supposed to be some sort of tension point in the plot, but I'm not sure how well that'll actually come across in the story. The language barrier is nice and all from a realism perspective, but it's getting to the point where it hinders the story dramatically. Everything from Dale's perspective is either bland exposition, or wild theories that he should have started revising or debunking long ago, since any kind of meaningful dialogue is impossible. And anything from the perspective of the ponies leaves Dale standing around like a bump on a log.
I'm worried the trial's gonna devolve into: Lyra gets worried about the trial, and then worries about what Dale is thinking because she can't talk to him, while Dale gets confused (again), and Luna reaches the conclusion we knew she was going to 5 chapters ago. Except that it'll take 3 chapters.
4316966 (nods) Yup. My feelings too.
4314746 And that's how Dale meets his best friend!
We need more doped up Kate
4311997
From Dale's point of view, he's not in a story to be classified as either "science fiction" vs "fantasy magic". Unicorns and Pegasi and Griffins are a signal to a human TV viewer that "this is fantasy" -- it's not such a signal to a character within the story.
That these beings had visited earth long ago is a more likely conclusion for him to arrive at, than "oh my god, I'm a character in a fantasy fanfic"...
4317358
Reread my comment - I said "from an outside point of view," i.e. the reader.
4312254
4316966
You raise a good point, and got me to wondering if I had failed to give Dale enough credit. After all, some of the Greek myths are still well-known, and still taught in school, With that thought in mind, I did what I do best: interview people that were similar to Dale's age and/or his occupational background. Subject A, a co-worker, is in his late 20s, is a state-certified master mechanic, and completed most of a vocational degree in physical therapy (which means he knows way more about human anatomy than I do). He was unable to name a griffon, minotaur, centaur [he thought that was a 'pegasaur'], sphinx, hippogriff, or cockatrice. Subject B, a parts supplier representative, is in his early sixties (slightly younger than Dale), and has worked in the automotive or heavy machinery business for decades. He could not name a griffon, minotaur, centaur or pegasus, although he remembered 'winged horses' being in some Greek story he'd learned in school. I forgot to ask either about a hydra or a manticore.
Much information, if it is not relevant to our day-to-day living, is not retained, even if it is learned. For example, I can't remember the formula for finding the area of a sphere, although I learned it in school. If you'd asked me fifteen years ago, sure, I could have told you. Therefore, I think it's valid that a retired machinist in his sixties would not remember the names of some mythological creatures. They might nag at his memory--he might remember that he'd heard about a creature like that, and he might even be able to get them right if he were given a multiple choice test, but it's plausible that he can't recall the names.
4316506
Having now seen a second sapient species that's very distinct from the ponies, yes; that's a very valid assumption for Dale to have. We already know that he's seen Star Wars, so an interplanetary society of that type is a natural conclusion, and fits nicely with his understanding of being made ambassador to Earth.
4316966
Of course he recognizes it's sapient. The griffon shook his hand, and carried on a conversation with Lyra, after all, and while you can train a dog to shake hands, it's harder to teach it to have a meaningful converstaion. What I meant by that comment is that it's a logical human perspective to believe that there is only one 'apex' species on a planet; one species which is fully sapient. After all, in our own history, we probably wiped out our competition a few tens of thousands of years back. As such, Dale's view of Equestria would not be 'let's see how many other sapient species besides ponies there are here;' rather, he would think 'here I am on the pony planet.' From the perspective of a sci-fi fan, the most likely explanation upon seeing another sapient species--which is completely distinct from the ponies--would be that it came from a different planet, just as he had.