Onto the Pony Planet
Chapter 25: A Royal Meeting, part I
Admiral Biscuit
“Art thou not hungry?”
Celestia set her spoon down and pushed her bowl of oatmeal away. “I . . . I find myself at a loss. You know that I am going to Ponyville today.”
“Yes.” Luna ate a bite of her own oatmeal, tasting it as if it were fine wine while she waited for Celestia to collect her thoughts. A second and third spoonful followed before Celestia spoke again.
“I confess, I don't know what to say to him.” She sighed. “Scholars at the university have made no progress on a teleportation spell which could safely return them home, nor has Twilight—unless she hasn't sent me a letter with her results yet.”
“Sister, hath thy faithful student ever failed to send thee a letter when she hast made a new discovery?”
Celestia's ears drooped. “No. I wish I hadn't done it.” Why do we goad each other on? Why do we rise to each other’s bait so often? “I can make him comfortable here, but that is small consolation. I have taken from him everything.”
“Not everything, sister. Despite thine efforts, he still has Lyra.”
“You know that the only way I could preserve their professional relationship was to hold a trial, as distasteful as it was.”
“We miss the days where we could simply strike fear into ponies' hearts.” Luna sighed. “'Twas a simpler time. Nevertheless, we did so enjoy Noble Voice's natural nightmares that we tarried on the edges overlong.” She brightened. “Thou wert correct—'tis more satisfying to make a stallion confront his fears rather than simply strike him down. Perhaps it is a lesson we should teach Prince Blueblood? We can think of many ways to improve his character.”
Celestia chuckled. “I have tried and failed. Tell me, how is Dale adjusting to his present situation? I know you've visited him.”
“He is strong—perhaps stronger than thou believ’st. We—“ Luna looked down and scraped her hoof on the tabletop.
“I know.” Celestia's eyes twinkled with amusement. “The Baltimare Sun published a rather scathing editorial. 'Colluding with the Enemy,' I believe it was called.”
“Consorting,” Luna muttered. “Thereby implying a lack of focus in our meeting. Were this the old days, we would give that mare screaming nightmares for a full week if she was lucky, and a cracked horn if we were feeling petulant.”
“Tell me what he’s like.”
Luna flicked her ears. Ignoring her bait proved how apprehensive her sister was. Luna bit down a snarky response and leaned forward. “He has—we are not as good at reading ponies as thou art, and his experiences are foreign to us. He—Dale—has known war and strife. He knows of machines which are unknown to us, giant rockets which carry his kin into the sky and wands which cast death-spells. Yet . . . he fears conflict. Nay.” She closed her eyes and thought back to his strange dream-memories. “He understands it in a way . . . in a way we cannot.” Luna dropped her head. “Perhaps we gave too much of ourself in the dream, but he provided comfort. We could not help but think of the price we paid for what we have.” She looked down at the table. “Despite thy council, we watched the Hearth's Warming Eve pageant . . . thou wert right to raze the unicorn stronghold to the ground. Better that there be no memory of it. We wanted to cry out that they had misunderstood what the conflict was about. That there is no such thing as a Windigo, except in the heart of a greedy pony. But we held our tongue, even as they lampooned Chancellor Puddinghead.”
Celestia’s eyes flashed. “Wouldst thou prefer ponies think of thee as the bringer of eternal darkness? Art thou the nightmare? Yea, thou art—yet thou art also the protector of dreams. One night a year, our citizens pay thee tribute; centuries ago, they burned thee in effigy. You are not your father, and his crimes are not yours. Even now . . . even now, ponies call to you in the night. You.”
“He . . . Dale will forgive you. We—I am certain of that. He may not show it in a way that you will understand, but he will forgive you.” Luna focused back on her sister. “We do not know what the mare Ka-th-rine thinks, for she is not of a sane mind.”
“Should I even attempt to reach out to her?”
“Yes.” Luna smiled. “We believe thou wilt find her most affectionate.”
“Thank you.” Celestia slid off the bench and got to her hooves. “I'll see you at dinner.”
Luna picked up her spoon and dipped it in her bowl, then looked over at her sister's unfinished breakfast. “We shall advise the kitchen staff to prepare thee a generous meal.”
Celestia didn't reply. Luna brought the spoon to her lips and chewed it absently, her eyes still looking across the room but not focused on anything in particular. She was picturing Celestia's reaction to oatmeal cookies for dessert.
Every morning when Kate woke, she looked around the room to see which nurse was with her. She thought that they sometimes switched in the night, but her sense of time was so confused, she couldn't be sure.
She had clear—if fragmented—memories of a time before the ponies, but after that everything was strange and blurred together, and there were times when she thought she must be dreaming it all, or at least some of it, but she couldn't tell.
She had a sense that they were drugging her.
The white nurse offered her a glass of bitter juice, and she accepted it gratefully. Before she'd even finished it, the pretty white unicorn came into the room. Kate finished her drink and lay back down in bed—this was routine. Every morning and every night, as long as she could remember, they did something to her hand.
This morning was no different. The white unicorn pulled a cart out from the wall and Kate set her arm on it. She felt the bed shift as the white nurse climbed up with her. Even if the nurses were sometimes kind of mean, they liked to lay their heads on her chest when the unicorns were looking at her hand, and she didn't mind. It was soothing to have them there.
Kate watched as the unicorn carefully stuck needles in her arm, then used floating tongs to twist some wire around them. After that, she looked away, because the glowing part that followed hurt her eyes. Concentrating on White kept her eyes occupied elsewhere, and kept her mind from thinking too much about the strange sensation in her hand.
She didn't know how long the procedure took, because there weren't any clocks in the room. At one point during the operation, she saw the bald man walk down the hall, wearing a suit. Normally, he just wore jeans and a khaki shirt, and she wondered why he was all dressed up today. She waved at him, but he didn't notice.
When the lightshow was finally completed, the unicorn packed all the equipment back up and pushed the cart back against the wall.
This time, their routine was different. While the leggy white unicorn packed up her equipment, White climbed off the bed. Instead of re-bandaging Kate's hand, she went out into the hallway. Kate listened attentively as her hoofsteps faded away, before turning her attention back to the white unicorn.
“Is good.”
Kate looked around the room, wondering who the doctor was talking to, before realizing that she was the one being addressed.
“Good?”
The unicorn nodded, and lifted Kate's arm with a hoof. “Try move.”
Kate raised her arm the rest of the way, bringing it in front of her face. She began by studying it intently. She hadn't seen it in what felt like forever, and couldn't quite remember what it was supposed to look like when it wasn't covered with gauze.
She was fairly certain that her two hands ought to match, and in that regard, her right hand failed inspection. The flesh on her left hand matched her arm; on her right, there was a reddish inflamed slightly-glossy area where the needles had been stuck, and below that, the skin was a pinker color. Kate wasn't sure why, but it reminded her of a newborn baby's hands.
She reached out and experimentally touched the back of her right hand. It felt strange and foreign—like it wasn't really a part of her. Still, even though her memories were clouded, she was sure that it was supposed to be there.
The doctor was watching her intently, so she laced her fingers together and did the first thing that came to mind. “This is the church,” she began.
One of the doctor's ears flicked.
“This is the steeple,” she said, raising her index fingers and touching them together. “Open the doors, see all the people.” Kate wiggled her fingers around. It felt weird, but it felt right. Like a part of her which had been missing was suddenly there again.
Kate pulled her hands apart and touched a finger to her right palm. It tickled. She experimentally clenched her fist, feeling an odd, creaking stretching in her hand, like she was wearing a glove that was too tight.
The doctor leaned close, presumably to get a better look, and Kate reached out with both hands, running them along the doctor's cheeks. She knew that she hadn't been able to do that before, but she'd already forgotten why. The nurse flicked an ear as Kate's right hand moved down and brushed against her muzzle. “I can do it,” she stated absently, giggling as the doctor exhaled against her palm.
A noise at the door drew her attention, and she watched with interest as White came into the room, a tray of food balanced on her back. Kate clapped her hands together—she liked getting breakfast in bed better than when she had to go downstairs and sit around the table with Rorschach. He was always asking her difficult questions and not letting her eat in peace.
After the doctor floated the plate to her bed and lifted the cover off, Kate frowned. It looked like it was dinner: a casserole with potatoes, mushrooms, and garlic sat on the center of the plate, framed with two thick pieces of bread. She'd thought it was breakfast time, but the meal told her she was wrong. She was fairly certain she'd had the same thing before she went to bed last night, but her memory was so fuzzy. . . .
Regardless, she was starving. What time it was was a puzzle for later; right now she wanted to eat.
Without consciously thinking about it, she picked up the fork with her right hand. She was vaguely aware that the two ponies in her room were watching her intently as she lifted her food to her mouth. Kate wasn't sure why they were so excited about watching her eat—they'd had lots of meals together with her.
After she'd polished off her food, the unicorn doctor set her plate aside and White tugged the covers back. Kate knew this routine too: it was time for a shower.
She climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. It wasn't until she was inside she noticed that both ponies had followed her this time. That was new.
She turned on the water, then stripped out of her pajamas and set them on the sink. It was easier, now that she could use both hands. Disused motions were flooding back into her mind. She actually grabbed the shower curtain and pushed it back, then steadied herself on the bathtub with her right hand as she stepped over the rim.
Kate happily regarded her bandageless hand. I'll finally be able to take a shower without Pink or White helping keep my hand dry. It might have been a small victory, but it was a victory.
Her guards banked the sky chariot in a broad circle around Ponyville, instinctively checking for threats, although as always there were none. She'd debated yesterday whether to use it, or to fly herself, or to simply teleport to Ponyville, ultimately deciding that any other method of arrival might cause wild speculation. Even though, in her opinion, the visit wasn't formal, the news of it had certainly gotten out by now, and it might send the wrong signal if she were to travel on hoof or wing.
They glided in for a landing on the grassy meadow north of town. As she stepped off the chariot, she noticed a number of ponies around the perimeter, ostensibly working in the town's gardens, but doubtless actually waiting and hoping to get a look at her.
It was a welcome change from Canterlot. There, the self-important ponies came right up to her and demanded an audience as if nopony else had any right to interact with her at all. Not so here; the ponies often actively pretended she wasn't important. And yet—if she were to falter, they would rush to her aid without a second's hesitation. That was why she had sent Twilight here for her final lessons: the backbiting and politics of Canterlot would have sucked the life right out of her student.
She bowed her head slightly to acknowledge their presence, dismissed her charioteers, and walked to the library, letting the serenity of Ponyville clear her head, although her breakfast conversation with her sister remained fresh in her mind. There would have been some advantages to putting this meeting off for a few weeks: Dale would be more adept at the language, Kate would be fully healed and off the morphine, and Lyra's memories of the trial would have faded. If not for the pressing need of making the embassy officially official, she probably would have waited—but it was only a matter of time before someone managed to throw a wrench in the works. Right now, it was a toss-up between the griffons and the noble ponies, but one thing she'd learned over her centuries of leadership was that sometimes trouble came from the source you least expected.
• • •
Celestia knocked once at the library door, and it was pulled open before she could even set her hoof back on the ground. Spike bowed politely to her as he stepped back from the door to let her enter.
She always enjoyed visiting, even though she rarely had the opportunity. While Twilight’s room in Canterlot had been more of a classroom, almost, the Golden Oaks was much more of an appropriate home for the young unicorn. She’d seen too many promising students get so immersed in their studies that they spent all their time in libraries, losing their fillyhood friends one-by-one, until there was nothing left but dusty old books.
“Good morning, Princess. Would you like some tea?”
“If it isn’t any trouble.” Celestia leaned down and nuzzled Twilight, while Spike scurried off to get the tea.
“Has the University found any spells?”
Celestia shook her head. “Nothing which shows much hope, I'm afraid.”
Twilight nodded. It was a disappointing answer, but hardly unexpected. “The doctors used a sink on the mare—on Ka-th-rine. Or Kate: that's what Dale calls her.”
“There isn't much hope of that working. There has been little experimentation done in that field for centuries, but I do remember a time when spell disruptors wore woven copper chain.”
“Spell disruptors?”
“Yes.” Celestia paused to take a sip of her tea, and to gather her thoughts. “It was a herd of earth ponies, back in the pre-unification days. They were called that by the unicorns, because spells just slipped right off of them.” They had been a force to be reckoned with, winning several skirmishes with ease and taking the unicorn garrison at Longeing Cavesson without a single casualty. But then they'd gotten cocky and cruel, breaking the horns of every prisoner, then setting them free to seek salvation at the great fortress at the base of the unicorn mountains. “The concept was adapted into some of the modern guards' armor.”
“Why not cover them completely?”
The next attack had been their undoing. The unicorns routed their attack by turning the very earth against the spell disruptors, pulling jagged rocks out of the ground to trip and impale even as they flung boulders down on the stallions, and no flag of surrender would stop the slaughter. “Because it also blocks beneficial spells,” Celestia said simply. “We do still have some similar armor, but it's only used for special cases.
“Disrupting armor would not solve our problem anyway. The spell would simply miss Dale and Ka—Kate.”
Twilight frowned. “The doctor's sink was able to prevent the magic from moving beyond her hand. I've seen Dale pick up field-held objects before. And they must be familiar with leylines: Kate had a field-sensor, as well as her wand. That tells me that they have some way to work with magic—if we could figure out how, we could potentially add that to the spell, and solve the problem.”
“Perhaps.” Celestia closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. “I wish there were some quicker way to let the other humans know that Dale and Ka—Kate are alive and well. I had considered sending a senior unicorn guard, but he would be bound by the limitations of Starswirl’s spell, or trapped. No unicorn I know of—besides you—would be able to cast two separate spells of that magnitude.”
“You could boost his magic like you did with Lyra, couldn’t you?”
“It would only work for the first casting.”
“Hmm.” It only took a moment for Twilight to call up the spell in her mind; she’d been reading through it nearly every day, first to figure out what had gone wrong, and then to figure out how to change it. “There is a self-limiting power clause . . . Lyra told me that aside from Dale’s camp, the island appeared deserted, so even if somepony went, there would be no guarantee anypony would be there.”
Celestia nodded. “If it were a busy place, it would be a simple matter to have the guard speak to any passer-by.”
“Why not leave a message? You could have a photographer take some pictures of Dale and Kate, have them write letters, and put it all in the box. The guard wouldn’t need more than a few moments to push the box outside the bubble, and then he could return. When somepony came along, they’d find the box. . . .”
“There would be no guarantee that it would make its way into the right hooves,” Celestia said, “But there is no harm in trying. Do you know any photographers in Ponyville?” When Twilight nodded, Celestia changed subjects. “Tell me, how are things going at the embassy? What have you heard? Be honest.”
“It's going . . . quite well. I've talked to Diamond Mint some, and Starlight too. They both like him. Lecol says Kate's almost healed, but she still acts weird; they think it's because of the morphine. He seems friendly and helpful, but he's not very good at learning.” She sighed. “He's smart enough, but he's no linguist.”
“His language is quite complicated. The university has been having no end of troubles figuring it out. Have you ever studied Minos?”
Twilight shook her head.
“They have always been a nation of traders and drifters. Their language picked up all sorts of foreign words over the centuries, and they simply added them in. My scholars tell me that one third of their words are adapted from someone else . . . it makes it nearly impossible to learn, since they have no consistent rules for anything. Dale's language is much the same, I am afraid.
“Such a language is often passed along without a true understanding of the fundamentals . . . there is no purpose to learning them as we do, since there are so many exceptions. Verbs can be nouns, words can be spelled the same way but pronounced differently; even the order of consonants and vowels is not consistent.”
“How could such a system even function? No wonder they seem so . . . juvenile. A proper language is the foundation of everything.”
Celestia smiled. “I think they are quite contradictory creatures. If what my scholars report is true, while they may be foals when it comes to magic, their technical innovations are beyond the imaginings of anypony in Equestria. If you don't mind, I would like for Diamond Mint to take over your scribe duties, and for you to come back to Canterlot with me for a week. The scholars at my university have made some interesting discoveries, and perhaps you could help them put it all together. You have a unique way of looking at problems.”
“Really?”
Celestia nodded.
Rarity tapped her hoof lightly on the bathroom door, her bags of supplies set neatly around her. While it might not have been the plan to dress up Kate for the Princess' visit, she was not going to let the girl have such an important meeting in the tattered rags she owned. Furthermore, she was certain that a nice new dress might improve her mood.
Redheart cracked the door open and blinked in surprise at the sight. “Rarity! I didn't know you were still here.”
“I brought a dress,” Rarity said simply. “And makeup.”
“Makeup?” Redheart eyed her suspiciously.
“I heard about Diamond Mint going around town, buying up brushes and combs and files—don't think I don't know what they were for. Or should I say, who. Dale hasn't got a mane to brush.” She picked up her supplies and moved towards the door. “You can't let her meet Princess Celestia with the poor clothing she has now.”
“She . . . she might not even get to meet the Princess.” Redheart lowered her voice. “It would be easier if she did not.”
“And if the Princess asks to meet her?” Rarity nudged the bathroom door open with her field. “What then? Will she be sitting in her bed, dressed in one of your hospital johnnys, looking for all the world like she might expire at any moment? What message does that send?” She didn't add what would the princess think of you, but she didn't have to. The unspoken message got through loud and clear, and Rarity went into the bathroom without any further opposition.
Her eye immediately went to the hospital johnny draped over the edge of the sink, and she looked at Redheart accusingly.
“She wears that to bed.”
“Of course.” Rarity made a slight bow as Lecol stuck her head around the edge of the bathtub and waved. Then she began unpacking.
She hadn't even finished laying out her beauty supplies when the water cut off, and Lecol pulled the shower curtain back.
Rarity gave Kate a critical assessment, quickly formulating a strategy in her mind. The weeks of healing had benefitted her—she looked fitter than she had back in the hospital, and her hand was no longer bandaged. She still had a glassy-eyed look, and that was something that makeup couldn't fix, but it could draw attention away.
“She had her fore . . . claws painted,” Rarity said. “I brought some pink hoof paint. Brush out her mane, pull it back a little bit. Get some of the pallor out of her skin. Give her fancy new clothes.”
Rarity watched intently as Kate dried herself off. She was almost certain that her range of motions were the same as Dale's . . . but she hadn't been positive, and it had been nagging at her mind the whole time she was working on the outfit that she would fail—that the dress would fail, and humiliate both Kate and herself.
On top of that, she hadn't been sure of what to make. Dale's second outfit had come naturally—some of the drawings of stallion's clothes had been remarkably similar to what was in fashion. Lacking any evidence that Dale had worn his peplos a second time, she'd gone with a suit instead. It was not that different from the clothing he normally wore, so she assumed he'd be comfortable in it.
For mares, the rules were more complicated—and the book showed that their customs were no less complicated. Many pages of the book were devoted to different articles of clothing, from complicated lacy pieces which only covered the hips and teats, to long flowing dresses. It was fair to assume that the amount of body one covered, as well as the complexity of that article of clothing, played an important part of their society . . . and she simply didn't know their rules.
She'd almost torn up her sketches. It would be safer to wait. Do nothing, and risk nothing.
Instead, she'd gone over her notes again and again. Tried to wrap her head around their clothes, and the Equestrian equivalent. Determine what would make Kate happy and what would be socially acceptable. Figure out how much of her body to cover, and how much to hide, and figure out what colors and fabrics suited her the best.
She had done her best, and she hoped it was enough. She'd compromised on her design, making the outfit in as many separate parts as she could, to allow Kate to pick and choose. Coordinating it all had been a chore, but she'd been proud of the finished products. She only hoped that they'd look as good on Kate as they did in her sketchbook. Without appropriate dress forms, she'd been forced to fall back on her experience and a few best-guesses.
“How much can you tell her?”
“I'm sorry?” Redheart turned back to Rarity. “Tell her?”
“Her language—how much of it do you speak?”
Redheart frowned and held up a hoof, waffling it back and forth. “Some?” Her ears drooped. “She's on morphine, you know. Makes it hard to guess what she knows and what she doesn't. Dale does okay talking to her, but he won't want to help her dress. He doesn't like that.”
“Hmf. Stallions.” Rarity motioned over to her bags. “Well. I guess we'll just have to make do.”
Dale paced around the hallway like a caged animal. He could be patient when he was on his own timeline, but when he was on someone else's, it didn't take too long for the boredom to set in.
It wasn't that he couldn't go wherever he wanted—certainly, Diamond Mint and Starlight spoke enough pidgin that if they meant to ban him from a room, they could make their point abundantly clear. Even the nurses would have managed; what Redheart lacked in language skill, she got through by gestures and pure force of will.
It was simply the circumstances of the event. He was dressed in brand-new formal clothes, so he had to caution himself not to do anything which might cause them to become dirty. His office had been put in order, and he dared not mess it up.
On top of that, the whole place was buzzing with mares preparing for a guest, and he was wise enough to know that a man's place in such a situation is somewhere out of the way.
Had it only been Diamond Mint and Starlight downstairs, he might have suffered through it, but a handful of mares had come in with baskets full of flowers, and while they'd been interested in him yesterday at the market, today they only had eyes for their flower arrangements. Diamond Mint was getting increasingly frazzled watching them, and frequently issued short commands regarding the placement. Matters were not improved when the catering ponies he'd seen at the last embassy event dropped by with a cake and two baskets of cupcakes, which prompted another re-arranging of flowers to make room for it all.
Dale eyed the door leading to the guards’ barracks, considering the merits of hiding out in there. On the plus side, he was sure the off-duty stallions were as eager as he was to avoid all the womenfolk. The fact that they couldn't carry on a meaningful conversation was probably a wash—the guards hardly ever spoke anyway. But it was a fair bet that the nighttime guards were getting a brief nap in before Princess Celestia showed up—unless he missed his guess, her arrival was very much going to be an all-hands-on-deck moment.
Finally, his options entirely exhausted, he went back upstairs to his room, where he could brood undisturbed. He opened his window, sat on the edge of his bed, and let his mind wander.
Foremost in his thoughts was Princess Celestia. He dredged up his memories of meeting her on the beach, of how she'd looked when she was asleep on the sand, surrounded by her guards and by Lyra. How when she'd first awakened and seen him, she was initially aggressive, but almost instantly backed down—that was important, he was sure. It was his deepest insight into her character.
At the same time, he felt the need to be cautious. Just because she hadn't ordered her guards to run him through on the beach didn't assure him that her intentions were benevolent. She could have dismissed him as a threat—simple enough to do when he was alone, and outnumbered fourteen to one. Even if he had drawn his gun, he would have run out of ammunition before she ran out of soldiers, and that was assuming they were dumb enough to stand still while he emptied his magazine. He'd reflected on that, and had come to the conclusion that he probably would have gotten one, maybe two, before one of the unicorns flattened him with a spell, or a pegasus got him from behind. Although he wouldn't have been around to appreciate it, it wasn't hard to imagine that their secondary response would not be particularly beneficial to Earth.
The way things had turned out . . . it wasn't ideal, but there were hundreds of ways it could be worse.
Nagging at the back of his mind was the history of Western imperialism, and he couldn't help but wonder if the Native Americans had thought they were getting a good deal when the first group of explorers showed up. Thus far, the ponies’ behavior hadn’t led him to believe this was actually a possibility, but it was something to keep in mind—especially if it turned out they weren’t the top dogs.
He got up and went to the window, pushed it open, rested his palms on the wooden casing, and stuck his head out. The lack of window screens was a benefit when he wanted to check out the activity on the street below. Aside from yet another mare bringing a basketful of flowers, there was no interesting activity to be seen.
He ran his hands over the casing. He’d always imagined that an alien civilization would build their houses out of fancier materials . . . although, despite numerous innovations on Earth in home design, most people still settled with tried-and-true methods of home construction.
Of course, he’d also thought it unlikely that an alien civilization would find their way to Earth and begin by kidnapping humans for research. That was just the plot of bad novels and low-budget TV shows. Yet, here he was. . . .
There wasn't anything he could do about it now. Good deal or bad, his fate was out of his hands—out of humanity's hands, at the moment. Nobody could imagine where he and Kate had gone, much less follow.
He sighed and sat back on the bed. He hated waiting for things.
Dale blinked back to the present as he heard a gentle tapping at his door. He turned his head, and his face broke into a smile as he saw Lyra. She wore a dark blue dress with gold trim. Unlike the white dress she'd worn to the town meeting, this one left her belly and some of her side bare. Her hooves were covered with tall form-fitting woven shoes, which reminded him vaguely of Roman sandals. On her head was a simple silver circlet with a blue gem.
He looked down at his own fancy clothes and smiled. We look like we're about to go to prom. “Is Princess Celestia here?”
Lyra shook her head. “Soon. We should go out to meet her.”
“Out?”
“She—“ Lyra tapped a forehoof on the floor. “She thought it would be . . . proper.”
“Because we first met on a beach?”
Lyra nodded. “And, I think, because this is your house. It is not proper to enter somepony else's house without being invited.”
“What if I don't let her in?”
Lyra stepped back. “You have to. You are in her herd.”
“Herd?”
“Herd is complicated. Is like friends, but—” Her ears turned as the town clock began chiming. “Is too complicated to explain now. The Princess will be here very soon.” Lyra walked beside him and nudged him on the hip with her muzzle.
Dale shrugged and nodded. I'm not sure what I'm getting into, but do I have a choice? If I do wrong, and they kick me out, then what would I do?
Lyra led him down the stairs and through the house. As her aura twined around the handle for the door, the memory of his dream surfaced so strongly he expected to see a barbeque in full-swing, and he could almost smell the burgers on the grill.
Of course, when she opened the door, there was no barbeque.
The yard had been tidied up; until that moment, Dale hadn’t realized that a yard could be tidied. Mowed, yes. Landscaped, certainly. Bushes could be neatly trimmed, and of course flowerbeds and gardens could be properly weeded—but none of that really seemed to apply here. All those things had been done, but they'd somehow managed to add an extra bit of tidiness and perfection that was just beyond what nature could do on her own.
The only thing which offset the perfection was the outhouse. Admittedly, it too had been prettified, with hanging baskets of flowers along the eaves, but it hadn't been hidden. The days of outhouses in the U.S. were long gone, but as he looked at it, he wondered if the U.S. Capitol used to have one on its grounds. He couldn't recall ever having learned about that in any of his history classes.
He looked over at a bench, and thought about sitting there while he waited—maybe Lyra would want to get off her hooves—but it was a little low for him, and she probably wouldn't want to wrinkle her dress.
Still, he crouched down on his heels, putting his head level with hers. She didn't notice right away; her eyes were fixed on the sky, her ears locked forward. For a moment, Dale was confused, then he remembered that Princess Celestia had wings. If she behaved like all the other pegasi he'd seen, she'd probably fly in.
That must be an interesting factor in their social customs. Yesterday at the market, there were pegasi who flew down to the stands they wanted to visit, and then back up to their . . . cloud. I saw at the hospital that they could come in through windows, and I've seen them perching on houses. What incentive do the ground-bound ponies have to accommodate that? What could a plain pony do against a pegasus burglar? They must have separate police forces to handle the different types of pony.
He reached over and touched Lyra on the neck, being careful not to accidentally muss her mane. While it looked as windblown as ever to him, for all he knew it took her hours to get that look. He could feel the tenseness in her, and knew that whatever beneficial effects the spa might have had, they'd worn off by now.
Dale opened his hand and just let it rest on her neck, and he could have sworn he felt some of the stress leave her. She turned towards him and exhaled, blowing her warm breath across his face, then rested her chin against his shoulder.
They stayed like that for a minute, long enough for Dale's knees and calves to start to protest. He shifted slightly, giving an apologetic grin to Lyra. She nosed him lightly on the thigh as he stood up, and then he looked forward, and Princess Celestia was there.
She was standing just inside the archway to the backyard, a guard on either side of her, her mane drifting and shifting in the nonexistent wind. He could feel Lyra moving, but he paid her no attention—his focus was locked on Princess Celestia.
Without even stopping to think what he was doing, he knelt and bowed his head, for that was how one behaved in front of a queen—he'd seen enough movies to know. And she was a queen; that was certain.
How did I not see that on the beach? Her power radiated off of her, as real and tangible a thing as sunlight. Beside him, he could see Lyra prostrated on the lawn.
He did not move, even when her gold-covered forehooves moved into his view. He dared not. His clenched fist dug into the grass as he felt her breath on his head, and then she shifted, touching his shoulder lightly with her horn. He could feel heat radiating off of it. Her mane hung down in front of his face, and he watched it slowly shift colors. I wonder what happened to that hair I found on the beach?
She moved back, leaning down to touch Lyra in a similar manner. She spoke quietly to the unicorn, then brushed her muzzle against Lyra's cheek.
“Please rise,” she said softly. Dale waited until he saw Lyra getting up before he moved—he wasn't sure if there was some kind of important protocol in how long a bow should be. He couldn't help but wonder again if his lesson with Cheerilee yesterday was meant to be longer, and cover more than just how to pronounce her name.
She stood only a few feet from him. The backyard was otherwise deserted—the guards had not followed her in. They could have been behind him, ready to move if he did anything untoward, but one look in her eyes, and he rejected the idea. Here, she had no need of guards, for she had nothing to fear—and she knew it.
Strangely, Dale found that thought comforting.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I did not mean for this. I did not mean to hurt you.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head.
Dale only hesitated a moment before he went to her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. It felt like the right thing to do.
His thoughts went back to the beach, and how he should have done things differently. He'd gotten cocky, and it had cost them—all of them. It didn't just end with him and Kate: her family would have no idea what had happened to her. But if he hadn't done what he did, then maybe here they would be wondering what had happened to Lyra.
He nodded to himself. If anybody deserved an apology, it was Kate. He didn't—the whole mess was as much his fault as anybody's. Still . . . aside from her being there the first time, there could be more going on than he knew about. She didn't know what had happened on the beach; he didn't know what had happened back here.
“I forgive you,” he said.
He took his hand off her shoulder and backed up as she lifted her head. I probably should have worn my wig. He fought back the urge to run his hand across his stubble, and instead kept his arms loosely by his side.
“Welcome to the Embassy,” Lyra began, tilting her head in his direction.
Dale stared at her dumbly for a moment longer, before he suddenly realized he was the one who was supposed to speak. It was his embassy, not hers. He was the host, and he had to make the decisions.
Dollars to donuts, everyone in the embassy has her muzzle up against the window, watching me screw up what may very well be humanity's most important first impression ever. “Welcome to the Human embassy, Princess Celestia. Would you like—” I actually got her name right!— “to come in?”
“Thank you.”
“Your English is quite good.” Dale wasn't sure whether he should lead her or let her go first. Lyra liked to lead him around, but of course he didn't know much of anything about the town.
“I have learning from Twilight Sparkle's notes.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I do not know many words yet. The books are help, but there are many . . . things.” A slight frown crossed her face and she looked over in Lyra's direction.
A moment later, the two mares began speaking to each other in their own language. Dale recognized this process: he'd seen it numerous times before. Starlight was quicker with English than Diamond Mint, so Diamond would often ask her for help translating a concept. Likewise, the two construction ponies—Ambrosia and Silver Spanner—often debated terms.
It was actually a bit refreshing to see. She was obviously very important, moreso than Princess Luna, and yet she was speaking English for his behalf. No translator came with her—she was satisfied using Lyra's services.
That actually tied the scene at the beach together nicely. He'd been looking at it in the wrong light all this time. They'd been planning on meeting someone—maybe him, maybe somebody else. The guards—their function was obvious. Lyra was meant to be the translator. The brains of the operation.
They’d been cautious, too. They’d chosen a secluded location. They’d probably scouted out a bunch of different spots, and waited until the right moment to move in. The island had been perfect—no quick way of communicating with the mainland, not since they could block his marine radio, and they could see threats coming for miles. If only he hadn’t led Lyra away from the beach.
Clearly, Princess Celestia trusted her implicitly. Knowing that was actually a bit of a relief: while it didn't totally explain their hierarchy, it meant that Lyra wasn't just some mare off the street. She'd surely been trained to deal with people like him, and more importantly, people like Kate. It also meant that if things began to go off the rails, Lyra would be able to smooth things over.
Hopefully.
“Hard,” Lyra said, yanking Dale back to the present. “Books are hard. There is much we do not know. When language is better, we want you to help.”
“Okay.” If it's questions about technology, I'll do okay. If they're looking at the Stars and Planets book and are hoping I can provide galactic coordinates for some of the stars, they're out of luck. “I will try.” He dropped his voice and cupped his hand across his mouth, shielding it from Princess Celestia. “Am I supposed to lead her in?”
Lyra nodded slightly. It was almost unnoticeable—he was sure Princess Celestia hadn't seen it.
“Let's go inside.” Dale motioned towards the door. “Unless you'd prefer staying out here.”
“Whatever makes you most happy.”
He headed back for the house, but kept a deliberately slow pace, just in case Princess Celestia was supposed to go in before him.
He held open the door for the two mares, and after a moment of hesitation, Princess Celestia entered. Dale shrank back slightly as she passed him. By his guess, she was about the same size as an average riding horse, and he still had distant memories from his days as a Boy Scout of how much it hurt when he'd been pinned against a stable wall by a gelding.
Once they were inside, he was briefly at a loss. One of the things that hadn't been provided in the embassy yet was couches. There were chairs around the dining room table, and of course there were also the chairs in his office, but none of them seemed appropriately formal. Don't they usually have plush armchairs for important diplomatic meetings? That's what I've seen on TV, anyway. He glanced over at Princess Celestia, who had her nose stuck against a flower arrangement. Then again, Japan surrendered aboard a battleship. I guess whatever arrangement we can make work will do. Besides, they’re probably used to this kind of thing—makeshift arrangements wherever is most convenient for them.
Once again, the advantage goes to the ponies. Based on the number of intelligent species pictured in that book Lyra gave me on the beach—or even that child’s book with all the creatures—they’ve probably visited dozens of planets. Lyra probably told her what I’d be comfortable with, and then let me think it was her idea.
Since the two mares were occupied, Dale went into the dining room and slid a pair of chairs out from under the table. Just as he picked the first one up, Diamond Mint came out of the kitchen and looked at him, then at the chair in his hand.
Dale tilted his head towards the living room. Diamond Mint blinked, and then got it—she picked up a third and fourth chair with her horn, and followed him.
Dale set his two chairs facing each other, a few feet apart. Close enough to be friendly, without being intimate. Diamond gave his arrangement a quick appraisal, and scooched the chairs just a bit further apart, before adding her two chairs to the collection.
He’d expected them to be put in some kind of a square arrangement, as if the chairs were set around an invisible table, but she paired them instead, close enough that the seats were touching.
Before he could question the arrangement, she headed upstairs. A minute later, she returned, with two pillows on her back and two more floating beside her. One look at the trio of gems embroidered on the pillows in her aura, and it was obvious that they were her pillows—and probably Starlight’s, as well.
Dale shook his head. It wasn’t right for them to have to give up their pillows for his comfort—he’d be fine on the chair. When she ignored him and set them neatly on the chairs, he quickly capitulated—there was no need to cause a scene with his staff while the Princess was there. Even if he was puzzled at how she’d put one of each on each pair of chairs, rather than matching them in sets.
It wasn't the best arrangement, but he supposed it would be good enough. Still, next time he'd make sure that everything was ready before the guest arrived. Looking around the embassy, he could think of a few other things it needed to be proper, an American flag being chief among them. As soon as the meeting was over, he was going to have one made: it wasn't a proper embassy without it. There was a nice spot on the back wall where it would fit perfectly.
He felt Lyra bump her nose in his hip, and looked down. She had two plates of hors-d'ouvres floating beside her head. “Dale eat,” she said, sending one plate in his direction.
He picked the plate back up, noticing that Princess Celestia also had her own plate of food.
A quick glance at the plate revealed that Lyra had been selective at what she'd chosen—her plate included several flowers, while his did not. While it was vaguely insulting that she'd taken it upon herself to choose his food, it at least prevented the possibility of him making a faux-pas.
He waited until Princess Celestia was done picking her food, and then motioned for the chairs, remembering just a moment too late that there weren't any tables to set the plates on.
Princess Celestia didn't act affronted by the lack of end tables. She stretched out on one ersatz couch, letting her plate float in front of her.
Once she was settled, Dale sat on the other, making sure to leave plenty of room in case Lyra was also supposed to use it—he wasn’t entirely sure she ranked high enough to get a seat.
I could have taken the middle, he thought, as she turned her head towards the empty spot. Just in case it makes a difference if she sits on my right or left.
His position also put the busts directly in his line of sight. Well, at least I'm not the only one who isn't getting everything right.
Are we supposed to be disliking Luna in this story?
I would not worry to much about these things as we would never fault him for the mistakes. Great chapter enjoy your con!
6290572 A more...violent time. I get the feeling that Celestia and Luna took over in a very difficult time and had to be quite heavy handed with their subjects in order to get them in line. Celestia has had a thousand years to smoothen out the relationship between government and population while Luna is still back in the days where you needed to crack down hard on any dissidents.
Also, I absolutely Love the chapter and I'm just Dreading the obligatory "Drugged up coastguard will assault the local royalty" deal.
6290572 She's right about one thing: it is easier to scare someone silly than hold a trial or go through all the legal niff-naff they probably have.
Lol there are 53 people reading this right now.
GODAMMIT NORMANDY!
Another chapter! Woohoo!
I'm puzzled by the difficulty sending them back however. I thought the burns and injuries were caused by the spell trying to haul far too much mass BACK to equestrian when it collapsed. Not because Dale and Kate reacted badly to the magic or the like. And from what Lyra was told, it sound like all that's needed to remain on earth is step outside the shield bubble the spell provides. Outside the bubble when the spell ends = Left behind on Earth.
Or are they concerned about teleporting them because they don't fully understand why or how the two humans were carried along on the trip? I could certainly understand that. You don't want to accidentally fry your new (accidental) ambassador when returning him to his homeland. That might send the wrong message...
Can't wait for more of this! Or to see what happens Earth-side when Celestia sends an interplanetary care package back to Earth!
When he was on someone else's timeline.
6290738
Oops! Correction made, thank you!
6290743 But of course. C:
6290691 Except she's terrorizing him after the trial and is talking about the newspapers.
6290655 Except she's been fondly regarding those times. It isn't seen as "Oh we had to be more heavy handed and these days we can't get out of this mindset" And more "Oh how we wish we could fondly torture people again!"
I think you meant "wasn't".
There isn't much for me to say or ask about in this chapter, since most of it is setting up the conversation between Cel and Dale. Only thing to note of is that Twilight is going to the university so she won't be around for a while and maybe she will be able to figure out that we don't have any magic.
In the past two days I've managed to get in a car crash and seriously sprain my finger at work.
This is just the breath of fresh air I've needed to brighten up my week
Really nice update! Lots of interesting things and I wonder what they'll talk about in the next chapters! Can't wait for more my friend!
6290726 The burns were surely caused by the interaction of Equestrian magic and an active taser.
Kate's gonna have plenty of adjusting to do once she's no longer doped up to her eyeballs. But at least they saved her hand!
Despite this storyline beginning on a rather stupid premise, this has evolved into one of my favorite stories on this site. It's hard to see that this story updated, and not squee in excitement.
Twilight seems to be keeping the taser discovery close to her chest for the moment.
The word rocket is interesting here. I wonder what rockets on Equestira are like. They must have something similar in order for Luna to use this word. I bet fireworks.
This bit is confusing to me. Is Luna speaking? Celestia? The one night a year and the bit about her father makes me think Luna is being addressed but the language suggests Luna is speaking. Makes one curious about Luna and Celesita's past regardless.
Those lower doses must be starting to let her mind clear up a bit. They really had her drugged up. Probably for the best.
Personally I think Celestia is being a bit optimistic. Even our brief views of Equestrian journalism suggest that a large amount of ponies are going to pitch a fit regardless, to say nothing about the rest of the world.
My money is on Twilight. It wont be intentional but that neurotic unicorn is going to mess something up. Either that or Celestia herself will stick her hoof in it.
Well damn. All this pre-unification stuff is really interesting, if slightly morbid. I wonder if you will consider writing more about this time period once you have less on your plate.
On another note the mention of boulders being flung on stallions specifically is interesting. From one of Lyra's books back on the beach it suggested that there was a significant gender disparity (I recall Twilight mentioning the dynamics of a modern family/herd). If there was such a gap in the genders it seems odd that a fighting force would consist entirely of stallions. Maybe all the mares were back home being pregnant. Worth considering.
I wonder if earth's electromagnetic field counts as a leyline. If not they'll be a bit disappointed.
Interesting if not technically inaccurate way to refer to a Radio.
Considering the conditions under which Dale and Kate left it seems like that would be a bit of a strange assumption to make. Especially since it was established that the other humans were the equivalent of the Guard in the conversation with Fancy and Lyra.
Traders are the true masters of the world. Their lifestyle means they go all across the globe and their position in trade means it behooves businessmen and rulers alike to learn to communicate with them. It makes their language beneficial to learn as there is a good chance that it is spoken by many people (more importantly wealthy people) across many nations.English most likely wouldn't be as popular a language as it is without Britain going all over the place and doing what it did best!
Unfortunately for Twilight nobody sets out to create a language to simplify and streamline the learning process. Rather than being 'proper' the language evolves over time, although here on earth the rise of recorded media may prevent and hinder that evolution in the future. Also isn't she calling the kettle black? Didn't Lyra say that Equestian borrows words and rules from many languages? Or is English just that much worse? Regardless Twilight admits she hasn't studied other languages and hasn't even gotten a good look at English outside of Dale's notes. Her arrogance is quite disturbing and irritating. I hope she gets a health dose of humble pie in the future.
Yay side stories!
That she is very ill, undergoing important medical treatment and maybe you shouldn't have barged in on her? Regardless Rarity is pushy, Wouldn't want to be on her bad side.
But she has such a big heart! Fortunately for Rarity Kate is likely still too drugged up to offer a critical opinion, Dale is too understanding to speak up if something is wrong, and Celestia doesn't know any better. There is no way Rarity can lose!
Most of them were too busy dying of disease to worry at first. Later I am sure they were aware of how dire the situation was.
Little bit of a meta comment here Dale.
Seems like Herd is referring to something similar to a clan group. Maybe it is the Equestrian equivalent of a nation state. Regardless it is apparent that by being in Equestria's care Dale has certain obligations and duties, such as inviting Celestia into his house.
The bubble formed by Starswirl's spell likely distorted the effect. Or being so far away from Equestria's sun. Also it was early and the lighting was poor. What I'm saying is it isn't your fault Dale.
Poor Luna. Even the space ape who cannot speak your language very well knows you are lesser than your sister. Must be hard to always be in your sister's shadow.
Oh Dale. He keeps trying to fit the circumstances into his preconceived notion. Either Celestia is going to clear up his misconceptions in this next chapter OR he will plod along in blissful ignorance until Kate regains enough lucidity to put in her 2c.
Too true. It is very easy to get things wrong when you cannot properly talk to one another.
All in all an excellent chapter. I wish it had been a little longer but what can you do? I'm already looking forward to the next one, I really want to see what Celestia and Dale discuss, as well as how Kate drops in and everything goes off the rails.
6290572
I don't think we're meant to dislike Luna so much as understand that she still holds something of a millenia old mindset to societal and cultural norms. It'd be as if William the Conqueror were trying to engage in discussion about modern (201X) politics.
6290572
First, as 6290655 pointed out, she was ruling during a more violent time. She remembers the reign of Discord and Sombra, pre-unification times, and other horrors that the modern ponies don't remember.
It's also canon in the comics. While I have not been able to find an online image (and do not have the resources to upload a clean copy here), in Friends Forever #14, she says "I thought being a princess was a lot of paperwork! I miss the days when we just exiled people to the arctic north."
Also, while she's griping about the modern way of doing things, she is respecting the current laws.
6290572
I'm quite convinced we are supposed to, yes. Luna is certainly the most unlikable character in this whole saga and she is nearly proud of it, too. Let us not forget that this entire mess was kickstarted by Luna being petty and taunting Celestia with the fact that she could sleep in and her sister could not.
6290655
Yes, when Luna was last ruling, they were in the middle of a tribal war while dealing with the fallout of Discord and King Sombra in the north.
6290691
Sometimes it's more effective, too. When I was a kid, and the local cops found you with pot, they'd just make you throw it out, maybe thump you a couple of times, and tell you to get lost. These days, it's a police record and jail time. I'm not sure which method of policing is more effective.
6290726
6290833
It's a little bit of both. Kate's severe burn was caused by backlash from the spell going up her taser wire--her right hand took the full brunt of it. But, they've also discovered that applying powerful healing magic directly to humans is dangerous (which is why Kate has to wear a sink when they're working on her hand). They do know that Dale can pick up field-held objects without any serious ill effects, which kind of gives them a baseline on either side, but they don't know exactly how much magic a human can take and survive uninjured . . . and the last thing they want to do is have Kate and Dale arrive on Earth as corpses.
6290799
Correction made, thank you!
Or do we?
6290818
Glad I could help some! Finger sprains kinda suck, 'cause they can't really do anything about them. I sprained my middle finger once. I also used to crack my knuckles. I bet you can guess when I stopped.
6290826
Thank you! More will be coming with much less delay.
6290861
The worst part of it is, she's going to be convinced for the longest time it's just an effect of the drugs wearing off....
6290943 ..So torturing someone with nightmares is part of the current laws? Well then.
6290877
fair enough.
Thank you!
6290885
She mentioned it in a letter off-screen. It honestly doesn't help them with the problem of sending Kate and Dale back, although it's proof that the spell malfunction wasn't Lyra's fault.
Yeah, it's fireworks. They're canon.
img4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20121009174325/mlp/images/a/ab/Trixie's_flashy_stage_S1E06.png
It's Celestia. She also used to use Royal Canterlot, back in the day. She's modernized her speech since then, of course.
That's an interesting guess.
I might. There is a bunch of interesting stuff there that I've sketched out. Bits and pieces of it have yet to be mentioned in this story, as well.
I don't tend to believe in the extreme stallion dearth some people do (1:10, for example)--that's biologically unlikely, and canon suggests it's not the case anyway. However, IRL unattached stallions form bachelor herds, and IRL stallions are sort of guards for their herd, so it seems logical that for many stallions, they'd take up some sort of 'protector' role.
I think you may have mostly answered your own question.
A lot of it depends on what they think the humans know about what happened. The ponies would have no reasonable belief that after somepony got teleported away that they'd come back to the same place again. They could reappear anywhere (unless it's a fixed portal-based transport system, like the mirror/statue combo from EqG). And don't forget, Celestia's guards explored the island before she went herself, so they know there isn't any perminant settlement on it.
Not that it isn't worth considering that there might be a garrison of Coasties on the island, of course. Celestia just doesn't think it's all that likely.
They are. They're also--in old times--a good way of getting intel on what other nations are doing, and spreading knowledge. IIRC, weren't Arabic numbers brought to the West by traders?
In canon, I could actually see the unicorns doing just that. Nopony else would, though.
Yes, but that's a more modern thing . . . and they probably "Equestrianize" a lot of borrowed words. The way I see it, there is 'pure' unicorn, which is what spellbooks and the like are written in, and then there's the more common 'lingua franca' that's been evolving and changing over the years. I also suspect that Twilight, like Luna, would be a linguistic snob, and gets upset when new words which aren't 'proper' enter the common vernacular. That having been said, some of her snobbish tendancies have probably worn off, since she still talks to AJ.
One thing which I think the show writers have done well is slowly transform Twilight from a book-smart unicorn to a street-smart unicorn. This story takes place during the transition time, so she's still learning. Still, it's hard to admit that you're wrong when you're the about the smartest, most magical unicorn in Equestria and the princess' personal protoge.
To be fair, Kate is ambulatory. Also, if there's barging in going on, you can bet it won't be Celestia barging in on Kate
Famous last words.
I like to stick those in here and there. Here's one you might have missed:
"She had clear—if fragmented—memories of a time before the ponies,"
It's kind of all those things, along with 'friend,' 'companion,' and several other things.
img03.deviantart.net/e65e/i/2012/315/3/3/sad_luna_by_d4svader-d5kho4v.png
It's hard to change preconcieved notions. It takes a lot of evidence. Ask Moller and Richter. :raionbowlaugh:
The next one won't have a several month delay, I promise.
6290995
Ah . . .
When Luna says, "Nevertheless, we did so enjoy Noble Voice's natural nightmares that we tarried on the edges overlong." what she means is that the nightmare naturally formed (hence the 'natural nightmare') and she didn't immedeatly rush in to break it up. Given that one of Noble Voice's assignments was that he "must henceforth follow a nurse for one full day, that thou mayst fill the gaps in thine education regarding a mare's reproductive biology" . . . I think you can imagine what his nightmares must be like.
Lots of things said about this chapter already. Since I don't think I can add something it hasn't been mentioned before I'll throw a random guess of what's to come: Kate will be riding Celestia before then end of the day.
6291176 Then that alleviates some of my fears, as I had thought she formed up the nightmare up itself and let it work its course.
(I don't consider the comics canon for note, considering that they break actual word of the creators often)
As to the message to Earth. Who says there has to be only 1? I would make many water proof packages, attach them to small balloons & send them through. They would come down scattered over a large area. Odds are some would get to the right people (& 99 red balloons go by!)
As to the English language. I've read that the Guinness Book of Records people asked the Berlitz Language School people & were told that English & Japanese are more or less tied for "hardest for a grown up to learn." From the EQ point of view, what is interesting is what that irregularity implies -that, like Minos, they are in contact with a wide variety of cultures.
As to Luna & dreams. What are you going to do, sue some one because you had a bad dream? Good luck proving who is responsible. In the USA, you have to prove damages before you can sue. Good luck w that as well.
I remember Twilight thinking that a taser was a fascinating concept for a weapon. Well, maybe. But every army has 2 big rubber stamps. 1 says "not invented here" & the other says "not wanted here either" The guards have medieval weaponry. Cutting edge or just ceremonial relics? (Like the Swiss guards around the pope)
Great chapter. Can't wait for the rest of this meeting. I also love the idea of the Faraday coat / armor. That along with Twi refering to the radio is a lay line detector put a huge grin on my face.
Another good chapter, though some proofreading errors. Like putting 'one' where you meant to use 'on'. But overall, another great chapter.^^
6290659
by thorough and gentle petting.
6291176
That is what I thought, I wonder why she slipped back here. Maybe the stress is making her temper flare.
Oh dear this cannot end well.
Fair points. I guess I just read into that bit in the last story too much.
Whoops.
Somewhat. Traders were likely responsible for the initial contact but believe it or not a Pope was the one who ensured they were widespread through Europe (although they did take several centuries, and the printing press to really become popular.)
Yeah, we all remember that soapbox she climbed on. That may be part of the reason why Celestia sent her to Ponyville, get some real world experience to go with her book-smarts. We wouldn't want Sunset Shimmer 2.0.
Still I want her to get all her presumptions rubbed into her face! Pride before the fall and all that.
I am trying to think of an English word with such a wide range of meanings. I am sure there are some but they are not coming to mind. I hope Lyra will get around to explaining it to him better. If Dale is part of Celestia's herd he is going to need an understanding as to what it means. I am sure Celestia would be happy to tell him.
When Ponies walk the Earth I am sure that job will get easier! Not EASY but easier.
Part of me wants to say hurrah, while the other part wants to say don't sweat it. You have had a lot going on. All understandable stuff.
I must admit I am looking forward to the point where the language skills reach the point where both sides illusions, which from Dales point is very clear here in this chapter, are shattered and both realize all of the errors in assumptions they have made, that chapter I feel will be a glorious bit of seriousness and humor, for us at least probably not for the characters themselves as they have their minds blown.
Morphine has an additive property, and Kate's been on it for a while now, any plans to include her having to deal with that along with realizing what's going on around her? One would think suffering from a slight addiction and facing the stress of whats happened being tempted to dope back up to escape would be an escape or coping mechanism.
6290938 I am so going to have to write a political story in 2066 about the return of William the Conqueror.
a interesting chapter. I really like this story more and more.
Do try to make some good first contacts while at this con.
If they think English is hard. Try learning my mother tounge. HAH. There are no structure to speak off beside the meanings of the words in the sentence...If it make sense and the ones you're communicating with understand, then it is correct. 1 word can be any sort of type...Verb, Noun, Adjective, Adverse,...You can even have 2 or more verbs in the same single sentence.
As always I love how you write Luna, old and time displaced but not cheesy nor oblivious, just slightly reluctant to embrace the new ways, like any truly old person is.
Nice interaction between the sisters, continuously baiting each other but they obviously care deeply for the other at the same time, you know, like old siblings do (and it's also nice that this kind of interaction is now canon as well).
Can't say much about the meeting with Dale yet, as the scene is not yet complete, but I'm looking forward to the rest of it.
I want to thank you for writing this story, and putting it up here for us to read. As someone else has already commented, it's just what I needed today.
There are some comments about various ponies being unlikable or showing small character flaws, and actually, I think that's part of what makes this story work so well. No one's perfect; and the flaws they demonstrate are very believable. Celestia and Luna pushing each others buttons, Rarity's bit of pushiness, Twilight's touch of arrogance about the Equestrian language, all help to add a lot of depth and convey a feeling of authenticity to a crazy, wonderful story about the world of a girl's cartoon show. That you can even DO that is amazing.
I'm totally selfishly stoked that further updates are coming more quickly. Yeah, I'm hooked on this story. A week or so ago I was so missing it that I went back and re-read Celestia Sleeps In and this, to get my fix. And it was just as enjoyable again.
Enjoy your con. Have fun. Be safe. Keep on doin' your thing! And thanks again!
6290981
I have no need to guess . On the upside, it does break the habit rather quickly.
6291200
I think the comics are a generally good source except then they directly contradict the show, like the Spike comic about a whole dragon town in Fillydelphia, that whole issue was basically AU nonsense unless you discard every dragon canon notion in the show itself, but on the other hand there's no reason to doubt Rarity might be a partner on an organic cosmetics operation.
I think this is also what most authors trying to get the most of of the setting tend to do, and the good Admiral here is certainly one of those authors.