Pony Versus Machine

by Smoker

7: Dragon's Fire

10:14 A.M.

50 hours and 46 minutes remain

XXXXXXXX

Spike sighed as he slowly walked down the road, continually kicking a rock as he went. He’d searched all over ponyville, yet nobody seemed to want to hang out with him, or even give him a second glance. All of his friends were hanging out with their respective mercs, and even the villagers were all either boarding up their houses, making new weapons, or stocking up on supplies.

Spike looked up, and smiled. “Hey, Derpy Hooves!” He called to the friendly mailmare. He’d recognize those clumsy, haphazard flying patterns anywhere.

The Pegasus looked down at Spike with one of her eyes. “Oh, hey Spike!” She said with a slight pause in her voice. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“C’mon down!” Spike said, eager for some sort of company.

Derpy’s eyes twitched. “Uh… no thanks, I’ll stay up here…” Spike then heard her mumble in a quieter voice, “Where it’s safe.”

Spike’s heart fell. He was used to this reaction, but it still disappointed him. “Okay.” He said, waving again, but Derpy was already looping away from him. He sighed, and decided to head back to the library for the day; maybe his sister figure would have some kind words for him.

XXXXXXXX

“I told you, Spike, I’m busy!” Said Twilight. She peered out of the crack in the door to the basement.

“Aw, c’mon, Twilight! I just want someone to hang out with!” Spike begged.

“Your kleinen Bruder is rather irritating, you know that?” Came the voice of the Medic from the basement behind her.

“He’s not my little brother, and he’s not that bad; he’s just bored.” Twilight called behind her. Then she sighed. “Okay, maybe just for a-“

“Twilight! I think I just figured out the key to oxidizing the sulphur! Move! Schnell!” The medic shouted.

Twilight squealed with excitement. “Sorry, Spike, but this is much too important to wait!” Twilight cried, and shut the door in Spike’s face.

Spike was frozen for a moment, in shock at being so brutally snubbed by his sister figure. Then he sighed, and walked into the kitchen; maybe eating something would make him feel better.

As he walked back out, carrying a sandwich, he heard a quiet noise. It was almost a crackling of some kind. Curious, Spike walked up the stairs, where the noise was coming from.

When he reached Twilight’s room, he found a curious sight. The fireplace on the opposite end of Twilight’s room was lit. This in itself was odd, because Twilight never actually used that fireplace; she was too paranoid about “green-mouse glasses” or something that Spike didn’t pay attention to.

The real oddity, though, was sitting in front of the fireplace: that blob thing from earlier (the pyro, was it called?) was calmly watching the fireplace, legs crossed, chin resting on its palms. It was almost cute in a way.

Spike walked over. “Hello?” he said to the Pyro, who did not respond. He waved his claw in front of the Pyro’s face. Slowly, the black mask turned in Spike’s direction.

Spike inhaled; the pyro’s mask was unnerving to say the least. The eyes were a soulless, unforgiving black, and despite the mask being expressionless, it gave off an aura of hostility.

The only noises while the two stared at each other were the crackle of the fire, and the quiet wheezing of the Pyro’s gas mask.

Spike snapped out of his trance, shaking his head. “I’m Spike.” He said, raising a claw in greeting.

“Huddah huh.”

Spike blinked. “Come again?”

“Hah huh, hudda huh.”

Spike stuck his pinky finger in his ear, trying to clear up his hearing. “I’m sorry, but I can’t understand what you’re saying.

There was a louder-than-average wheeze from the mask, which may have been a sigh, and the Pyro turned his face back to the fireplace.

“I take it you’re a pony – I mean, human – of few words.” Spike said, sitting down in a similar position to the Pyro. Then he raised an eyebrow. “You are a human under there, right?”

The Pyro just shrugged his rubber-clad shoulders.

“Was that a yes, or a no?”

Another shrug.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay. Well… as long as you’re not going to talk to me, can I at least talk to you?”

There was a pause. Then the Pyro nodded, not turning his head away from the fire.

“Okay…” Spike said. There was a silence between the two as they stared at the crackling fireplace together.

“We’re kind of similar, you and I.” Spike said finally, turning to the Pyro. The rubber blob turned his head again, and tilted it in a questioning gesture. “Well, we’re both the odd ones out.” Spike turned back to the fire.

“I’m a dragon on a team of ponies, and you’re a… thing, on a team of humans. We’re both the freaks, the sideshows, the ones which stand out.” Spike’s claws clenched. “No offense.” He added.

“mmm-huh.” The Pyro mumbled in a placating tone.

“Folks are scared of what they don’t understand.” Spike continued. “For a long time now, half the people who’ve seen me on the street have stared in awe. ‘I still can’t believe she tamed a dragon’, ‘How does that thing’s biology even work’, ‘mommy, can I touch the pet?’” He now had a resentful tone in his voice as he reflected upon the memories. “Wherever I go, I’m treated as a freak, a circus act. Oh, they act nice, but I know what they think behind my back. I know how they stare at me, in fear.”

Spike’s fists clenched tighter. “Why? Why can’t they just treat me like they would a normal pony, rather than a monster? Even earlier today, Derpy, the second friendliest pony in Ponyville, fled from me in fear.”

He sighed. “At least you can just take off that suit and be a normal human whenever you want.”

“hmm-mmm.” The Pyro said, shaking his head.

“What, you can’t take off the suit?” Spike asked, looking at Pyro.

Pyro looked at Spike. “huddah huddah huh?” he said in a questioning tone.

“Sorry, but I still have no idea what you’re saying.” Spike said in an apologetic tone.

The Pyro gave another wheeze-sigh, and reached into the fire. Picking up some burning embers with his fireproof hand, he turned to Spike. Then he shoved the embers into his face, and gave a pained groan.

It took Spike a few seconds to guess what this meant. “So you… burned your face?” Spike asked.

The Pyro nodded vigorously.

“But that doesn’t explain why you can’t take off your suit.” Spike said questioningly.

The Pyro face-gloved. Then he stood up and went over to Twilight’s bookshelf.

“Looking for a book? I can help you!” Spike said, smiling and following him.

“ra-huddah huh uh hudda-hudda-huh huh-huh.” The Pyro said to Spike.

Spike stared at him. “On second thought, maybe you should look for the book.” He said, raising his hands.

Pyro nodded, and returned to searching the shelf. A few minutes later, he finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out a book titled “mythological monsters” and began to flip through the pages.

Finally, he stopped on a page, and showed the book to Spike. He pointed to a particular picture, of a pony with a mane made of snakes.

“Oh hey, that’s Mare-dusa.” Spike said, nodding. “I remember her. She was an ancient mythical monster, who was rumored to be so unfathomably hideous that just looking at her face could cause someone to turn to stone.”

The Pyro nodded. Then he pointed at the picture of Mare-dusa, then pointed again to his face.

Spike finally understood. “You won’t take off your mask, because the fire burned your face so bad that you became hideously disfigured?” That was a bit specific, but Spike’s gut told him he was right.

“Raaa-huh!” The Pyro said in an approving tone, putting the book back on the shelf and giving Spike two thumbs up.

“Geez…” Spike said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”

“mm-pha-ra.” The Pyro said, patting Spike on the head.

Suddenly, Spike felt something welling up in his throat. He belched, and out of his mouth came a scroll. “Ah, Celestia must have finally gotten Twilight’s request for help.” He said to himself. “I’d better give this to-“ He paused when he noticed that the Pyro’s face was now two inches away from him, the black eyepieces staring.

“Whoa!” Spike cried, leaping back. “Dude, that’s creepy.” He added, pointing.

The Pyro reached forward, and pried open Spike’s mouth, peering inside. “Hey, whoa! Personal space, buddy!” Spike cried, pushing the Pyro away.

“ba-huddah-hu-hu-huh?” The Pyro said in a questioning tone, raising his hands.

“I’m guessing you’re curious about my fire-breathing?” Spike asked. Seeing the Pyro nod, he continued. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. All dragons can do it.” He blew another stream of green fire to demonstrate.

The Pyro made a giggling noise and clapped his hands. Then he rushed over to his backpack, which was hanging off of a chair. From the bag, he pulled a disproportionately large device.

Spike watched with astonishment as the Pyro raised the device and pulled the trigger, shooting an arc of flames into the air above him. “Dude, sweet!” Spike said, grinning widely.

Then the Pyro suddenly pointed the flamethrower towards Spike. “Whoa dude, what-“ was all Spike could say before the Pyro pulled the trigger. Flames enveloped Spike.

A few seconds later, the flames stopped, leaving Spike covered in soot, but unharmed. “What was that for?” he questioned, shaking the ashes off of himself.

“hudda-huh! Huh-huddah-huh!” The Pyro said, poking Spike’s unblemished scales.

“Yeah, dragons are fireproof, too. Didn’t I mention that?” Spike added.

The Pyro paused for a few moments, scratching his chin with his finger and thumb. Then he nodded, and made a gesture with his hand.

“What?” Spike asked.

The Pyro pointed to Spike’s mouth, then gestured to himself. “You want me to hit you with my flames, is that it?” Spike asked. The Pyro nodded enthusiastically.

Spike shrugged, took a deep breath, and blew another stream of fire at the Pyro. “There! Howd’ya like that?” he asked, smiling smugly.

The Pyro looked at the rather tiny scorch mark on his suit that Spike’s flame had made. “mmm-mmm.” The Pyro mumbled, shaking his head. Then he reached back into his backpack, and pulled out something else: a second flamethrower. It was similar to the first one, the only main difference being that instead of a spout, there was a crude metal snakehead welded onto the front.

“Huh-huh.” The Pyro said, handing Spike the new flamethrower. Spike took a good look at it: scratched into its barrel was the word “Backburner”. He pulled the trigger experimentally, and a huge blast of fire came out of the snake mouth.

“Sweet.” Spike said, smiling. He tried to hand it back to Pyro, but the rubber-clad man shook his head, and pushed it towards Spike. “You want me to have it?” he said, astonished. “But don’t you need it?”

The Pyro shook his head. He pointed to the Backburner, then held up three fingers, then pointed to his backpack. “You have a couple of spares.” Spike inferred, and the Pyro nodded.

“By the way, why’s it called Backburner?” Spike asked. Pyro took the Backburner from him, and pointed it towards his own chest. He made a pained noise, then shifted the Backburner around so that it pointed to his back. The Pyro then made an even more pained noise.

“So it hurts people more when it hits them from the back?” Spike guessed.

“haa-raddah!” The Pyro confirmed, handing the Backburner back to Spike.

“So…” Spike said, smiling. “Mind teaching me how to use this thing?”

“mmm-hmm!” The Pyro said cheerfully, gesturing for him to go down the stairs.

“You’re right. It probably wouldn’t be wise to use flame weapons indoors, especially in a wooden house filled with books.” Spike mentioned.

As the two walked outside, they continued to talk/mumble about their interests. Twilight watched from the basement, smiling. “I thought they’d get along well.” She said, closing the basement door.

Author's Note:

Sorry if this ain't the greatest chapter. I've been a bit busy.

Comments

[Wilfred Warfstache]

I luv your story bro. Keep up the great work!

[ShadowLDrago]

It took Spike a few seconds to guess what this meant. “So you… burned your face?” Spike asked.
The Pyro nodded vigorously.

Yikes.

Spike finally understood. “You won’t take off your mask, because the fire burned your face so bad that you became hideously disfigured?” That was a bit specific, but Spike’s gut told him he was right.
“Raaa-huh!” The Pyro said in an approving tone, putting the book back on the shelf and giving Spike two thumbs up.

Yikes.

Spike watched with astonishment as the Pyro raised the device and pulled the trigger, shooting an arc of flames into the air above him. “Dude, sweet!” Spike said, grinning widely.

Uhm, is using a FLAMEthrower inside a TREE such a god idea?

“Yeah, dragons are fireproof, too. Didn’t I mention that?” Spike added.

And lavaproof, he's pretty much indestructible.

“So it hurts people more when it hits them from the back?” Spike guessed.

Yep. Turns the Pyro into the Spyro. Ehehe, I'm not funny.

“You’re right. It probably wouldn’t be wise to use flame weapons indoors, especially in a wooden house filled with books.” Spike mentioned.

Correct.