Elements: Beautiful Stories for Ugly Children

by Nightmare_0mega

Champagne Supernova

The water flowed and ebbed against the sandy shore as the salty air remained crisp in the mid morning sun. The clear skies almost sparkled in the sun's rays, signalling peace and calm after a vicious storm. The wind gently brushed through the trees, along the water's surface, and curved around rocks as it danced in the serenity. The voice of the ocean's gentle tide was interrupted by a loud growl very foreign to the environment. What followed it was a groan of discomfort and grogginess from a being very alien to the world around him.

"Que mierda," muttered a gravely, lazy voice. Said voice belonged to a rather large being, soaked from head to toe. His white shirt clung to his body in wrinkles thanks to being water logged. His very light grey jeans suffered little from the sea, where as his black and white shoes squished strangely around his feet. The rings on his arms and his hands rubbed awkwardly against his hairy skin, causing minor rashes that irritated him only slightly. The orb necklace around his neck, however, remained virtually unharmed or unchanged, save for seeming to shimmer from small water beads it had. His eyes fluttered open as his hand reached up to brush the moisture out of what remained of his hair. Upon regaining his vision and awareness, he noticed a very pink pony atop his pot belly, just as soaked as he was. Her pink coat was was beginning to dry out in the morning sun while her darker pink hair began to curl for the same reason.

"Eh? Rosa, is'at you?" he asked.

Mumbling with a yawn, she opened her light cerulean eyes slowly to meet he big guy's own. "Oh, hey Elvis," she said in a chipper, if tired, tone. "That was some night. I felt like a partied a little too hard, though. I don't recognize anything. Do you know where we are?"

Elvis vigorously rubbed his face to force himself completely awake before he sat up quickly, only to suddenly dump the drying Pinkie Pie back into the water from his movement. With a splash, followed by a second splash from breaking back through the surface, Pinkie shook the excess water from her mane like a dog. Elvis raised his arms in defense, trying to protect himself from getting wet further, despite still sitting in sea water.

"Ey, ey, EY!" Elvis barked as he pushed himself up to stand and backed away from the silly pony until he was fully on dry land. "You’re gonna catch your death, amiga. Come on, get out of the water."

"I will in a second. Do you know where I can find some shampoo?"

Elvis face-palmed, trying not to let the various irritations get to him on top of the daft question. "Rosa," he said as calmly as he could, "I don't think we're going to find shampoo out here."

"Why not?" she asked innocently.

"Because, we're náufragos. Cast-"

"Nevermind, found some," she said quickly, swiping a small floating bottle of shampoo that previously hid behind a rock. With a squeeze, she expelled the entire contents of the poor tiny bottle. "Shoot, there's only enough for one use... oh well." With a chipper hum, she proceeded to wash her mane without a care.

Elvis stared for a moment, before he turned away and headed inland, grumbling to himself. He patted his pants, looking for his cigars, finding that they were still there. He sighed in relief upon noticing their presence, only for his face to drain in dawning horror as he pulled one out. His cigars, a gift given to him by his little pink friend, were all soaked and completely useless.

"Hijo de puta!"

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

After minutes of raging, Elvis quickly began to set up a camp at the cutline between the beach and the jungle. He dug out some dirt to make a higher rising platform, before building a small hut that was big enough to fit at least two individuals his size. The walls were made of clay that he found while digging, hardened by his power over fire, and the roof was made of sticks and foliage he nabbed from the inland jungle. Aside from that, he set up a drying pole made of a long thin stick held up by impromptu foundations that were made of other sticks and tied-together by vines. Upon it, he hung his shirt to dry, as well as his socks, and hung his shoes upside down on the protrusions on the makeshift setup.

Elvis sighed, scratching his head gently, picking sand and leaves out of his hair as he looked at the set-up he made. It was passable, but it needed one more thing.

"EY, ROSA! YOU JUST ABOUT DONE? I NEED YOUR HELP!" he called out.

"Just a sec, Elvis! What do you need?" Pinkie responded, still far into the water.

"I NEED ROCKS! THE SIZE OF YOUR HOOF, AT LEAST!"

"Can do!"

Elvis smirked. That aughta take care of that. I better go gather some wood. With that thought, he proceeded deep into the jungle to find some decent kindling. While he slowly moved through the forest, he began to think. His mind was still in a bit of a haze, but he knew there was a reason they were so far away from civilization, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Tripping over an above ground root kicked him out of his train of thought and made the devil almost light the entire forest on fire in retaliation. Getting back up off the ground, brushing the dead leaves and dirt from his hairy chest, he calmed himself, and set back on task: gathering any wood he could get his hands on.

After a few minutes, Elvis gathered what he figured they needed, and made his way back to camp slowly. Despite going at a reduced speed to keep control of his abundant findings, he managed to get back to camp at a decent time. He then dropped the wood in a designated spot and wiped his brow before turning to be greeted by Pinkie, whom was laying in a makeshift hammock tied to a couple of nearby palm trees.

"Hey, Elvis. Look what I made! Weeeee!" she cheered, swinging without a care.

"That's nice," Elvis said flatly, "Did you find what I asked?"

"Oh yeah. I found about twenty of them while I rinsed off. I figured you wanted them to make a fire pit, so I already set it up for you!"

"Bueno. I'll get a fire started," he said, picking up some of the kindling next to a few small logs.

"Ooooh, let me help!" Pinkie declared, effortlessly jumping out of her hammock as she bounced towards the set-up a few feet just outside the hut. Propping up the kindling, Elvis snapped his fingers and lit it, fanning the flames gently to get it going.

"Alright, add a log."

Pinkie did so, laying smaller ones in a cone formation, each tip supporting each other. As the fire fed on the fuel, Elvis sat back with a sigh, patting his pocket for a smoke, only to remember they were gone. He groaned in frustration, just before his stomach growled ferociously.

"Oh, too bad we aren't in Ponyville. We could have fixed those grumblies really quick." She sighed a little disappointingly. "No more making cupcakes for a while either, I guess."

"Stop. All this talk of cupcakes is gonna make me starve," he complained. "I'll take care of the food thing for myself. You should probably forage the forest for something to eat. You are a herbívoro, right? You can practically eat the entire jungle if you wanted."

"Pfft, well, yeah, but I can't just eat ANY leaf, root, or berry. A girl's gotta have some standards. It's what separates us from the animals!"

Elvis just stared at her for a moment before he shook his head, trying not to think about it too much. Instead, he walked over to the cut-line, ripped a stick off of a tree branch, and made his way back to the shore line, wading further into the tide. As the waves sloshed against his large frame, his uneven and uneasy steps in the water triggered a memory of what happened prior to being stranded.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

It was a bright, sunny mid-afternoon in Ponyville. The day was as average as average could get, as ponies of all walks of life wandered through the town to talk to friends, run errands, and generally enjoy the rest of the day. The only difference was there was a special event going on at the town hall, advertising the opening of a new cruise line that would travel the Celestial Sea. More than a few ponies came to hear about the news. One such pony was Pinkie Pie, whom was tasked by the Cakes in talking with the representatives about catering. Along with the exuberant and dutiful pony was the Deva named Elvis. While Pinkie rocked back and forth in her chair at the back row, excitedly listening to everything included, wishing she could attend such a party, Elvis sat beside her and grumbled to himself.

"Hey, Rosa. How long is this cabron presentation gonna last?"

"Another five minutes, then we can go backstage," she replied.

"Ok, now that the bulk of the presentation is over, I have good news to tell all you potentially lucky ponies!" the grey coated male unicorn announcer said with enthusiasm, "Early on in the presentation, we asked everyone to enter their names, or names of their friends (up to two other names) into this ballot box here." He held the box aloft, showing it to the crowd. "This is because we are going to give two lucky winners that entered, plus one guest each, tickets to take the maiden voyage at the end of the week. It's our way of saying ‘thank you’ for your time and appreciation, and now is the time to find out who won!" Upon exclaiming that, he put the box down and ripped off its top. With the magic of his horn, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Our first winner: Bon-Bon! Come up and claim your prize!"

An excited earth pony mare with a light apple greenish coat and a cobalt mane with light fuchsia stripes hopped out of her seat and ran up the the stage in giddiness, claiming her prize. Two tickets were presented from a machine, one with her name and one for "a guest", and told the first one cannot be traded. She understood and announced, to no one's surprise, who would be joining.

"I'm glad our first winner had so much enthusiasm. That's the kind of joy our cruise line wants to not just receive, but give as well. We hope you enjoy your trip. Now for the next ticket."

"Feh," Elvis grumbled.

Once again the showpony flared his horn to retrieve another folded name. Once he had one he was satisfied with, he swiftly pulled it out, unfolded the paper, and read the contents, before announcing the lucky individual. "And our second winner is... ELVIS! Come on down you lucky pony you!" Everyone gasped upon hearing the name as Elvis' eyes bulged and his jaw slacked in shock. The entire audience turned their gaze to the rotund Deva, watching expectantly, murmuring among themselves. It was then the announcer's face fell upon realizing everyone was staring at the very owner of the name. Oh jeez, he's gonna need to be upgraded to QUEEN sized, for sure, he inwardly lamented. Maybe I'm wrong in assuming? Maybe there's another Elvis here? Only one way to find out. Shakily, he said "Y-yes, that's right Elvis, you lucky pony, come on up and claim your prize!"

Elvis fidgeted, dumbstruck and utterly flabbergasted on what to do or say. He gazed about him, and saw everyone's eyes were locked on him and him alone. He didn't care for vacations, or the sea, so this stroke of suck was the worst thing that could happen in consideration to his usual life in Ponyville. Who put my name in? he asked himself, Who could have possibly- It was then that his heart sank and his face drained of its color. He hoped beyond all hope that he was wrong, as he ever so slowly turned to his little pink pony friend.

And there she was, wound up tight like a compressed spring, with an impossibly massive and toothy grin, shaking like a leaf, staring directly at him. He knew that look, and it scared him.

"Rosa?"

"YOU WOOOOOON!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, leaping high into the air, waving her hooves about like wet noodles.

Elvis pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. He couldn't believe that his dear friend would go behind his back like this and enter him into a contest he had no desire to be in. Worse still, he won the cockamamie prize, and would be tasked to select another to bring with him. He growled with thoughts of seasickness and shipwrecks dancing in his skull.

"Aren'tyougonnagoandgetyourprize, Elvis?" Pinkie said breathlessly. "Cause, Iknowyoureallykindasortaneedthevacationandyou'vedonenothingbutworkandsitaroundtownsinceyoudecidedtostayatSugarCubeCorner, andIwashopingyou'dappreciatehavingsomevacationtime, especiallyonacruiselinewithlotsoffoodand-"

Elvis swiftly raised his hand, which prompted Pinkie to stop her rambling and finally land on the seat she had been hovering over miraculously for the past several minutes. The large being then stood up, scooted his way past the other ponies, and walked up to the stage, with a downcast expression on his mug.

"W-we hope you enjoy th-this trip for two on the maiden voyage of our cruise line," The announcer declared shakily, holding the tickets aloft before him. Elvis swiftly snatched the tickets out of the air with a sigh.

"Ugh... Gracias."

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

"Uuuuuugh..." Elvis moaned, pawing at his head to ease frustration, "A cruise? I won tickets? Why can't I remember a damn thing?!"

He shook his head roughly, trying to both shake the daze from his eyes and to shake loose any further memories. To his annoyance, he couldn't recall anything further than that. However, he did remember he was wading out into the water to try to catch some dinner for himself. Sea water, in which the tide had began to rise from the setting sun, all the way up to his shoulders.

"Hijo de puta," he muttered under his breath. He would have just abandoned his attempt at catching some fish for himself, but his stomach protested hard enough for him to relent. In the deep now, he clumsily moved about the water, trying hard to keep his hands ready to strike out. Elvis was glad, however, for two facts he soon discovered. The first was that his strike speed was unhindered by the water's consistency. The second was that it seemed as if the fish liked his gold rings. He took advantage of both, and soon caught himself enough for supper.

After a solid hour of fishing, he returned to the shore, holding his prize in his hands. As he got closer to camp, Pinkie was in her hammock, sleeping the evening away. He shook his head at the sight, put down his catch, picked up some sturdy, sharpened sticks, impaled each fish he had, and sat down to begin roasting. As a fire demon, one would think that they'd end up being expert cooks, but the reality of it all was that Elvis was actually quite lousy. It wasn't to the level of burning cereal with milk or over-salting chocolate cookies, but it was enough to singe the fish he intended to eat. Despite the burns, and out of pure anger for his own hunger, he devoured his burned fish anyway with little satisfaction.

"Day one," he muttered, picking his teeth with a fish bone, "And I already hate it here." He then looked back to Pinkie, whom was still snoozing the time away. As the fire seemed to grow brighter, the world around them got darker. Elvis looked up to the sky to see it twinkle with stars and shine with the moon. "Well... maybe it's not THAT terrible."

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

While the night was young out at sea, with dozens upon dozens of ponies living it up on their maiden, luxury voyage, the clouds began to slowly come together, giving a low ominous rumble in the distance. Blissful ignorance reigned while the festivities pressed on, with only one party-pooper remaining. Within one of the few deluxe sized suites, normally reserved for aristocracy or the rich and famous in cases of demand, Elvis laid upon his queen-sized bed, fitted with the finest of silks and fabrics, in discomfort. He grumbled as he felt the ship sway ever so gently against the waves and groaned while he gazed out the double sized window to see stars, darkness, and the ever constant splashes of ocean water.

"I ain't no ocean soul," he mumbled as the contents of his stomach gently churned with creeping discomfort. The persistent solitude ended as a light rapping at the door to his room echoed, which caused him to roll over with a disgruntled sneer. "I don't want any maldito room service! The cabron on the other side better largarse, before I get enfadado!" he spat with venom.

The door opened anyway to reveal the pink wonder that brought him here by chance. He rolled his eyes in irritation and flipped back over to watch the darkening sky.

"Woof, I'm glad not many ponies here know Spurrish," she muttered under her breath. "Come on, Elvis, the night is young and everypony is having a good time but you. Don't be such a party-"

"DON'T," he barked, raising his hand. "It's bad enough I'm on this stupid boat. I HATE ocean traveling."

Her face grimaced in disappointment. "I'm surprised at you, Elvis. I thought you'd at least enjoy the buffet."

"Nothin' but salads and cakes, Rosa. Sure, I love a nice desert, or ten, but it's stuff from esquina del cubo de azúcar, and I'd rather have something new." He flipped back around to face her, "Besides, cake will make me mareado right now."

"Is there ANYTHING at all that'll get you out of this room and have some fun?"

"La bebida alcohólica," he chuckled sarcastically, rolling back over to face the window. That's when he heard the door shut behind him. Taking a quick glance, he noticed that Pinkie was gone. He gave a huff and went back to his sour mood, letting his mind wander. He wasn't used to thinking in the relative silence and discomfort, especially while surrounded by relative extravagance. The juxtaposition really only put him in a fouler mood. "A drink wouldn't be too bad right now," he mused now that he was seriously considering his earlier sarcasm.

As soon as he said that, the door opened once again with the sound of gently clacking bottles in ice. Elvis raised his brow and turned to see Pinkie with a small, gold trimmed pail filled with ice, and two darkened bottles. It was then that he finally sat up on his bed, nearly hitting the roof with his head, due to his impressive size.

"Is that-?"

Pinkie put down the bucket before her. "Yup. Sweet Apple Acres Hard Cider. The Cakes aren't the only ones catering here."

"You know I was joking, Rosa," he said with a concerned and conflicted smile.

"That's not what you said to yourself a hundred and twenty-eight words ago."

"I-"

"Aaaaand, maybe it'll help loosen you up."

Elvis looked at the alcohol, then back to Pinkie, then back to the bottles. "Wait, are you even allowed to-"

Before he even finished, she gave a scoff and a flick of her hoof, "I'm legal. Don't drink very much, but I'm open to it now and then." She then hushed her voice and got closer to Elvis. "Fun fact... Applejack is a lightweight."

"No kiddin'?"

"Sooooo?"

Elvis looked back to his friend. It's been a while since he had any decent drinks. He was well versed in how good Sweet Apple Acres products were, including their cider, but wasn't entirely aware of this. Then again, he didn't pay much attention to the rest of the world he lived in, nor its citizens. With a light scratch of his short beard, he decided to be more attentive from here on. But first...

"Why not?!" Elvis exclaimed with a clap and wringing of his massive hands. "It couldn't hurt, at the least."

"YIPPIE!" Pinkie celebrated as she grabbed the first bottle, unwrapped it carefully and set it on the counter, before moving to collect a couple of glasses.

"No, no no no no no," Elvis said, shaking his head and waving his hand. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Get back over here and sit."

Giving a puzzled look, she reluctantly complied, grabbed the bottle she set down, and sat across from her large friend. Once seated, Elvis gave a nod and a smile, before he took the second bottle, and flicked off the top, causing it to ricochet all over the room before landing in the trash can.

"Nice shot!"

"Gracias. Now," he began, while holding his bottle up in the air, "To good friends and better booze."

"The whole bottle?"

"Yes, the whole bottle. Just don't force yourself too hard, Rosa."

She complied as she lifted her own bottle in the air, "To good cider and better friends!" Elvis smiled, as he brought his bottle down at the same time she did with hers. The two then took their first drink together.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

Elvis woke up with a start and a heavy snort, shooting up to a sitting position, with eyes still in a heavy daze. He rubbed his face vigorously with a groan, while he slowly gazed about. To no one's surprise, it was the dead of night on this lonely, untouched island. However, in his absolute shock, a storm had begun to rage, tearing up the trees and kicking up sand all about the beach. The wind was harsh and powerful, and while it had no effect on Elvis' large frame, it was still concerning none the less. As soon as he considered that, his peripheral vision caught sight of Pinkie's hammock, torn to shreds and missing his bright colored friend.

"Rosa?!"

Elvis stood up as more sand swirled about, kicking in his face much to his chagrin. He ran over to the hammock, caught its tatters as quickly as he could and looked it over as closely as possible. There was no sign of her, be it hide or hair, and the storm was getting worse. He dropped the ruined hammock listlessly, and frantically looked about his surroundings, paying close attention to the the sand. Of course, finding prints in the sand now was next to impossible, as the winds and rain had all but wiped away evidence.

"ROSAAAA!?" he called out, hoping for a response.

"Over here!" Pinkie replied from a distance.

Turning towards the direction of Pinkie's response, he faced the jungle, face both trying to relax and contort in irritation. Instead, he gave a huff, before he marched through the foliage to look for his lost companion. It didn't take long to find her, but he didn't expect to see her in such a predicament.

"What are you DOING up there, Rosa?!" he questioned, gazing up a rather tall tree with one pink captive clinging near the top.

"Heh, funny story, but the short version is the wind was REALLY pushy," she chuckled halfheartedly, hooves digging into the bark a little harder to keep a firm grip as the wind and rain kept blowing. The sound of wood creaked as a rumble of thunder was heard overhead, causing the party pony to snap her head up to the sky in concern.

"Ay, that'd be your cue to jump down."

"Iiiiit's quite a long way down," she said with a slight shake in her voice, eyes still fixed to the sky.

"Prometo que te atraparé, mi amiga. Now jump!"

Swallowing hard and looking back down, Pinkie tensed herself up before she leaped off of the tree, diving into a free fall. The instant her touch left the wood, a powerful lightening strike exploded behind her, obliterating the very plant she clung to. She screamed in terror of the sudden noise and shock while she fell, now flailing about in panic as the ground approached at an alarming rate. What's more is that her jump, combined with the lightening strikes force, caused her to overshoot her intended landing. Before she could land in a not so pleasant way, Elvis jumped up, and deftly caught her in mid air, before landing safely back on the ground. She curled up tightly against herself as his hands held her.

"You alright, Rosa?"

She simply hummed in response, refusing to unfurl from her semi-protective coil. Elvis sighed, as he proceeded to carry the tiny horse out of the foliage, heading back to the shoreline and making his way back to camp. The debris from the still active storm littered about the beach, shifting as the winds blew harder. To the side was their shelter, with the roof just barely managing to stay stable in the chaos around them. Even if it collapses, he though, it'll be better than standing out in the rain.

With nothing left to do, Elvis trekked over to the shelter, ducked under its fragile roofing, and sat himself inside, open palms still acting as an impromptu bed for the little pink pony. It was a rather miserable moment as rain continued to pour, pattering against the leafy roof above in constant white noise. As to be expected, the cold that came with the downpour finally began to set in, irritating the fire demon mildly. However, while he cold tolerate it for the most part, the shivering ball of cotton candy was a little less receptive to it. With a sigh, he called upon a small portion of his power, and gently heated his hands to comfortable degrees. Soon the shivering stopped, and she finally relaxed where she lay, unfurling slightly as if to show her comfort.

Elvis leaned back slightly, back resting against the solid enough wall behind him as his eyes fixated out into the sea and storm. Waves swayed and danced with the wind as lightening cracked the sky in rare beauty. For the stranded monster, it was oddly soothing to see such natural chaos. However, the longer he continued to gaze out, the more he felt a foreboding sense of familiarity. As his sight drifted further and further into the distance, the uncomfortable impression or recognition took hold with a tighter and tighter grip.

But, it was for naught, as exhaustion soon caught up with his actions both present and unknown, forcing him to drift back into sleep. The last thing he saw that night was the cozy little friend in his warm hands, and the harsh storm just outside the pathetic shelter they had.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

His shirt was missing completely, his pants were torn at the legs, his shoes were soggy, sand gritted underneath his rings and bangles, leaves were in his hair, and he was groggy as hell. To say Elvis' night sleep was terrible would be an understatement. The only thing worse off than he was had to have been the beach itself, which was absolutely littered with all sorts of torn foliage and debris, with the camp itself being more or less torn to shreds. Any neat stockpiles of wood he had set up was in disarray, the moats and barriers made of sand had been all but evened out, and the firepit was flooded and ruined. Worse yet, behind him was the destroyed shelter, which had began to cave in on them sometime during the night. The only thing that really kept the damn thing in place was Elvis' relatively large frame, due to filling half of the interior from the get go to prop up the roof. Now that he was outside of its walls, nothing was left inside as support, where it soon imploded and collapsed on itself. Hours of work, gone in an instant.

"As cozy as it was, we probably should have avoided making a grass roof. Next time, it'll be sturdier!" exclaimed the Element of Laughter, trying to keep a chipper tone

Elvis turned to Pinkie, whom fared much better than him or the beach, sporting only a few random leaves and sand in her mane and coat. The big demon gave a tired sigh, and began walking to the woods.

"Wait, where are you goin'?"

"To get more stuff to repair the shelter, chica," he replied, tired.

"Maybe you should take a break," she responded with a small smile, "You kinda work hard enough for the both of us as it is."

"Eeeeeeehhhh." He then waved his hand in a lazy, flippant manner, brushing off her suggestion. With that, he slowly disappeared into the leafy, hearty brush to search for new supplies, leaving his fellow castaway behind.

As she watched her friend disappear from view, Pinkie Pie slumped to her rump, uncaring to the uncomfortable sand. The wind gently brushed against her disheveled, poofy mane, almost trying to comfort the blue feeling in her heart. She gave a listless sigh as she marched off to wash her mane again, looking for the shampoo she managed to find yesterday, which surprisingly didn't wash away. As she scrubbed, she couldn't help but dwell on the situation they were in, and come to terms with a few facts she was certainly vexed over. Spending a night or two on an unknown, untouched by pony hooves island would be a welcome surprise, however the looming uncertainty of it all soured the idea. Not just the uninhabited part, but the fact that not a soul would know they were here. Furthermore, how long would it be before anyone would figure out that they were missing in the first place? It could be certainly more than a few days until that realization, especially since she had a funny feeling where they were SUPPOSED to be would be somewhat relieved by their disappearance. Her memory was fuzzy on the exact events, but she could swear that things took a harsh turn when she tried to cheer her friend up, whom was rather cold ever since he won those tickets.

However, all of this was ice shavings off of one of the many gigantic mountains surrounding Yak-Yakistan compared to what was really troubling her. For all of her bravado as being the Element of Laughter, and for all of the experience she had in cheering up those around her, something like Elvis was always a touch more difficult to handle. Being a creature from far outside Equestria, even more-so outside the farthest reaches of their world put his nuances already well beyond typical common sense and understanding, and being a rather demanding and eccentric creature to boot only added to the standard confusion. Though, during her time with him, she had began to learn, bit by bit, just how he ticked. True, a lot of it started with careful observation and lucky guesses, coupled with stumbles and mistakes, but eventually the time came when he truly began to open up and extend his own efforts to know and understand something other than his status quo. Even so, as much time as she spent to get to know Elvis, she knew there were likely thirty metaphorical laundry and grocery lists that detailed so much more that she has not, may not, or could not know or have known. Furthermore, a large chunk of reasoning and efforts were carried by her home and the ponies she knew and loved. Without support from her other friends, the comfort of her home and tools to cook up a surprise impromptu party, or even just a stress free place to relax at, she was far outside her element. As enticing as the beach was when they first washed up, she quickly realized the chips in the mask.

The bubbles in her hair and hooves began to dissipate as her thoughts drew deeper. Elvis wasn't in the best of moods when this whole thing started, and she was certain, at least from the point of being stranded, that he was slowly getting worse as the hours passed by. She gave a lengthy sigh for a moment of two, before she dunked her head beneath the water to rinse. Cantering back to the shoreline, she shook her coat and mane of the excess, and surveyed her surroundings. Closing her eyes, she slowly and calmly breathed in, before she exhaled once more as if to expel her doubts and damning thoughts. It may not be exactly hunky-dory right now, she thought, but I'm not going to give up, and I WILL turn his frown upside down! And when we get out of this mess, we'll look back and laugh!

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

Elvis stood among the tropical foliage, having spent quite some time wandering and gathering everything he figured he needed for yet another long evening. With a small grunt, he placed his supplies down on the ground beside him, stretched his back for a moment, before he patted his pants pocket for a cigar.

"Que mierd- oh..." he muttered upon remembering he had previously lost all of his smokables, quite likely around the time he became a castaway. Elvis then crossed his arms with a frustrated grunt and tapped his foot in impatience, trying and failing to take his mind off of his craving. With another frustrated grunt, he decided it would be easier to ease his mind if he attempted to relax. The jungle floor, after all, felt rather soft as he walked as far as he could tell, so perhaps it would at least be a comfy spot to rest. He sat down next to his pile and found his assumption was correct. While he began to recline, Elvis gazed about the surrounding jungle, taking in the sounds and colors that seemed a bit more lush than even the already vibrant pony civilization he was so used to being around. A soft breeze passed through the foliage, making leaves, branches, the occasional vine, and a few ground plants to gently sway. Birds became chattier and the small patches of sky that he could see through the canopy was pleasantly partially cloudy. Considering what happened last night, there was no telling if such pleasant weather would remain, but the unpredictability of it reminded him of home, if only a little.

It hadn't been very long, but it was hard to believe he actually became accustomed to a land like Equestria. Back on his world, at least on the mortal side, it was a harsh, unforgiving, and untamed monument of prospect and decadence. Deserts clashed with old style townships. Forests where rare, and smell of battle was frequent. Human technology had been confiscated and granted custody to his kind, and used in an attempt to cull the already rampant and unwieldy fodder that had done as it pleased for so long. On the demon side, it was a far cry less complicated, but leagues harsher to handle: the strong thrived while the weak struggled to survive, climates were brutal and unforgiving where you either adapted, left, or died, and there was no telling if or when you'd meet an untimely demise.

Not that Elvis really cared about the contrast of those worlds. To him, the human world was nothing more than a playground and buffet, while Hell was just where he began his existence. There wasn't much else to it, and the few joys and loves he did manage to engage in were moments in rarity. Save for his smokes.

Here, despite lacking his smokes from time to time, he had much more granted to him. His joys and passions were satisfied, and even his battle thirsty nature was sated through volunteer labor, smashing rocks for future use, or the odd villain threat/monster attack. He could always count on a good snack, better company, and the best of days happening more often. Pinkie would normally make sure of that. Even his cigars which, while were not the same quality as the ones he had at home, he had become quite fond of over time. He had existed for years and, from the point he ended up in this strange world onward, he had never felt so alive. Well, despite being stranded on an uninhabited island, but that was beside the point.

A smile crept across his face for a moment, before he shook his head. "Eh, I'm gettin' soft." He gave his cheeks a light slap with both of his hands, as he rose back up to his feet. Picking up his supplies, he made his way back through the jungle, finding the site clean of debris and straightened up, ready to be re-fortified. There, on a brand new hammock, was the pony responsible for the sudden clean-up, snoozing the day away.

Elvis gently placed his supplies where they needed to be, as he began reconstruction of the shelter's roof, careful not to make too much noise for the time being. Of course, his rough, slapdash architectural efforts ended up creating a bit of noise anyway, prompting him to check and see if his sleeping friend was still adrift in her dreams. Thankfully, with the way she seemed to be, it seemed like a volcano could go off with the sound of hell's primal fury, and she'd still be out like a light. Elvis hazarded a test by throwing a rock at a nearby tree, which elicited a loud THWACK. Not a flinch nor a squeak of surprise was given. Satisfied, Elvis returned to his work with gusto, reconstructing the roof, sturdier and a smidgen higher than it was to add a little extra room. Heh, I'm getting the hang of this. After what seemed to be hours of hard effort, it was finished.

Like before, it sported a grassy and leafy surface on the topside, but this time around, Elvis made sure to fortify the foundation and framing so that it would withstand stronger forces than just a medium rainfall. Even if all of the foliage was blown off or had collapsed into the little hut, all he'd need to do would be to put it back on the frame the way he set it up this time around. The demon felt quite proud of himself for the clever seeming idea. It'll be a good place to stay while we-

He looked out into the distant sea, seeing a deep, dark mass of clouds in the distance, crackling with bolts of lightning, while thunder seemed rather distant and very muffled. He scowled. "Estás FOLLANDO bromeando?!"

The sudden shout provoked an equally sudden gasp and a thud to follow, which made Elvis turn his attention to the source, only to see his small friend, rubbing the sore spot where she fell. He gave a sigh, rubbing his temples gently, wondering why of all noises it was his own shouting to disturb her, before he sat down at the foot of the hut's entrance.

"Now that I'm up," she half chuckled, "What seems to be the problem?"

With his face still firmly and deeply in one of his palms, he pointed with his free hand towards the encroaching storm. Pinkie's ears flattened against hear head and her mood faltered from the encroaching storm.

“Oh, that...” Elvis began massaging his temples as he heard the little pony approach and sit right next to him. “Any way we can make something more storm proof?”

“I ain’t a carpintero, Rosa.”

“Yeah, I guess we’d need Applejack’s help if we’d want something a bit more durable than a grass hut.”

The name suddenly sparked a memory deep within the aching head of Elvis. He closed is eyes slowly as the encroaching storm started accelerating the wind, kicking up leaves and making the air smell stronger of seasalt than it normally did.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

It was a blur of colors and sensations that would normally be extraordinarily hard to properly decipher if it were through the point of view of any other ponies or creatures. Despite thirteen bottles of Sweet Apple Acres Hard Apple Cider, Pinkie and Elvis still managed to retain most of their motor functions. Even more impressive was the fact the big burly demon was actually affected by the alcohol, regardless of quantity or intensity. Demons commonly held an incredibly high tolerance, to the point of often viewing drinkable alcohol as medicine or a health drink rather than a poison. The fact Elvis had trouble processing as if he were any mortal being drunk off his ass was a curiosity at the very least, but one easily forgotten due to the inebriation. On the other bizarre end of the spectrum was Pinkie, whom by all accounts should have been passed out under a table after taking an equal share in the spirits, to put it lightly. Instead, with slurred speech and a bottle in hoof, she insisted on singing karaoke at a closed comedy bar, which did interrupt the remaining patrons there in their quietening evening. Considering it was not the first time somepony had done this in Equestria, and also considering she was decidedly so much better at carrying a tune and beat, security wasn’t called.

As they moved about the ship, chatting up some of the other vacationers, sometimes swayed and lead by the gentle tilt of the cruise, and often admitted that they’re still in the middle of a drinking competition, both Pinkie and Elvis had quickly gained a notoriety among the other guests and patrons. Some found them quite entertaining while plastered, while others regarded them as a nuisance. Regardless, as quickly as they would interrupt someones evening, long before they could even think to overstay their welcome, they would go on their merry way.

Soon, though, upon suddenly feeling like the air inside the cruise ship was getting rather stuffy, the duo decided to leave the interior for the deck, which was stained by the salty water that splashed up against the hull, passing through the railing gaps. The darkened clouds began to thunder as the winds became a bit more turbulent and smell of an encroaching storm. But neither the party pony nor the disastrous demon felt fazed by forces of nature. In fact, the moment it began to rain, Pinkie began to dance about as if she were summoning it here herself. Actually, she TRIED to dance about like that, however the combination of the booze in her system, the slippery deck, and the gently rocking of the boat made it quite difficult. Further still, it made her travel companion begin to worry as he watched his haphazard friend enjoy the coming storm and turbulent waves.

“Eh, Rosa? Izzat a good idea?” He slurred.

“Ooooh, you wet blanket!” she replied, while stopping long enough to apply her full attention to him. “Issaaaaaall good. I know what I’m doin’!”

“Oh, jeez, Rosa, I’m-I’m not sayin’ you ain’t... but you-”

“Watch me do a-a... uhm... A TRIPLE SOW-COW!” She shouted, crouching low in order to get ready to jump. “No, WAIT!... TWO!!”

“Stahp, yer gonna-”

“WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-” Before Elvis could finish his warning, Pinkie sprung up from her crouch, twisting in the air with shaky abandon, and arched herself over the rail, down to the water below, “-EEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Thunder cracked as the rain poured harder and waves crashed, masking the splash the foolish mare made in her stupor. Elvis leaned himself over the rail, trying to catch a glimpse of his lost friend. With the waters churning and his worry growing, Elvis panicked for a moment, before his addled mind made the stupid decision to jump in and save her. Now, a sound mind would have probably called for help instead, and let those more capable to handle situations like this. Further, a sound mind from Elvis’ point of view would remember that, while an excellent floater in his human form, he’s utterly garbage at actually swimming. It was far too late for him to realize that fact as he hit the water’s already agitated surface with a crash and still managed to find and pull his friend on the way back up. Out cold, her body stayed still as his arm coiled around her and kept her from being tossed around like a chump. Unfortunately, despite his size, Elvis himself was not exempt from the storms might, as it swayed him to and fro, flipping his stomach and his sense of direction. Before Elvis could find himself losing whatever contents he had in his belly, he felt the water heave back and then suddenly shoot him towards the cruise ship.

“I hate ocean traveling,” is all he managed to mutter before his face was slammed into the side of the boat, causing him to pass out.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

“Oh, diablos mio,” Elvis uttered in slow frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Pinkie asked innocently.

“We did this...”

“Pardon?”

Elvis suddenly spun around. “We did this, Rosa!” He shouted, gesturing to the environment around them, “This is all our fault!”

“Really, cause I don’t-” It was then, after a sudden pause, that it finally clicked. “Ooooooooooooh.”

Elvis grumbled as he collapsed back to the sand, hands in his face as he tried to wipe away the shame and embarrassment. Pinkie approached the distraught demon and sat beside him, trying to think of a way to pick up his spirits, but failing to come up with the right word or gesture. Elvis looked to his travel companion and sighed. “If we make it out alive, Rosa, I never want to travel again.”

“Can’t promise that, big guy.” Pinkie said, lightly punching his shoulder. “But we’ll probably stay away from any competitions that have us... well, not in our right mind.”

“Agreed...”

The storm in the distance slowly loomed closer as they continued to watch, strangely content with their fate now, having realized the extent of their circumstances.

“Ya wanna know something, Rosa?” he asked.

“If you’re gonna say what I think you’re gonna say,” she answered, trying to cut him off. “Don’t tempt the world right now.”

“Screw that,” he barked. “I KNOW it’s gonna get worse. I HOPE it does. I double DARE it to get worse.”

Pinkie couldn’t help but laugh. “Heh, well, that’s one way to see things.”

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

The new shelter they had simply didn’t help.

Lightening crackled ominously as it delivered upon its destructive payload to their current miserable situation once again. Rain pattered hard and mercilessly as Pinkie and Elvis huddled under their new shelter, trying desperately to keep it together. Water leaked through a bit more, unlike last time, despite the relatively sturdiness that seemed to present. Pinkie shivered as she huddled as close as possible to her castaway companion as Elvis utilized his power to try to keep them warm. The weather outside, however, proved it rather difficult, as it seemed to get colder as time went by. They had originally intended on waiting the storm out before making a fire and sleeping, but those plans were dashed the moment they realized the storm had no end in sight. Elvis, finding it extraordinarily difficult to remain patient grit his teeth harder and harder as the wretched storm continued. Upon the third hour of the constant rain and thunder, he snapped.

Dumping Pinkie out of his arms, she landed in the sand with a soft thump as Elvis exited the shelter. Confused and cold, Pinkie got back to her hooves and called out to her friend. “Elvis, what are you doing? Where are you-”

Before she could finish, as the storm raged on and the needle like droplets pattered him against his face, as soon as he was far enough away from the shelter, he gave an almighty roar, raising his fists high into the air. Suddenly, they began to glow flames of deep purple and red. With the force of herculean giants, he slammed his magically infused fists into the ground, and caused the sand and ground around him to suddenly shoot up and coil around him in a crude, hardened shell big enough to encase at least two of him. Pinkie jumped from the sound, causing the new structure to finally collapse upon her, which forced her to dig herself out, now exposed to the elements.

Elvis then punched a single large hole in the front of the jagged sphere of formed rock and recently created sand fused together from the sudden force and super heating and cooling. “In here, Rosa,” he beckoned, as he gestured to Pinkie. She swiftly raced inside and out of the cold.

Upon finally being safe from the weather, she shook herself like a dog, drying herself off for the most part, much to Elvis’ less than amused chagrin. She nervously laughed, before apologizing to the grumpy demon.

“I didn’t know you could do this. Could have saved you LOADS of time the last couple times.”

“Didn’t think I could do it, either. Just needed to punch SOMETHING. Dunno if I can do it again, though.”

“Well, I certainly don’t want to see you get mad enough to do it, heh,” she joked, but deep down repeated it in honesty. She then shivered, realizing it was still cold, despite the increased protection from the rain. Elvis picked up on the little pony’s discomfort and gently set her aside. He then stood up, stretched a little, reached his arm out of the hole he made, and felt around for something to burn. Lucky for him, his hand managed to brush up against a piece of log that likely rolled down the beach when he slammed the ground in his frustration.

“Ahah!” he exclaimed as he gripped the piece of wood and pulled it inside. It was drenched obviously, and under normal circumstances would be useless for the time being. Elvis refused to be beaten, however, and lit his hand and the wood that held it on fire, before setting it down when he figured it could burn on its own. Before the smoke could start to get thick, he punched a small hole, overhead nothing but sand, to let it drain out. He then quickly carved out a trench and punctured an exit hole so the the invading rainwater wouldn’t disturb them.

Exhausted, fed up, and emotionally and mentally taxed to hell, the two sat in silence as they kept warm near the fire and kept dry in the structure, waiting out the storm. Hours passed as the wind picked up and it began to rain harder, drumming against the surface of the structure like gravel being thrown at trees. They had long since passed out from the constant waiting, drifting far way from their misery into slumberland. The two unlikeliest, and yet closest, of friends slept the night away, oblivious to the changing air and the storm’s waning. The only thing that managed to bring them back to the waking world was a series of loud crackles and booms that made it seem like bombs were going off. They jumped out of their haze, realizing their fire had long since diminished and the rain had died out during their slumber, and soon began to crawl out of the hovel. Upon emerging, intense heat greeted them as they emerged, bleary eyes witnessing a real catastrophe.

Before them was bright orange, red, and black waves in place of the lush greens and earthy browns. For whatever reason, the last strikes of lightning had lit the island ablaze, and the fire itself was consuming everything, save for whatever wasn’t attached to the ground and sand. Birds were seen fleeing the inferno, as well as the odd other indigenous creature that had once called this place home, all had now moved out closer to the sandy shore. Pinkie and Elvis stared with both horror and dread, before they turned to each other, and couldn’t help but laugh.

The two roared with the heartiest laughter they’ve had in quite a long time, unable to react any other way to the absolute madness before them.

“Just our luck, eh?” Elvis managed to choke out between chuckles.

“You said it,” she replied with a stifled giggle, “Good thing we weren’t in there!”

They laughed, and laughed, and laughed until they began to cough and sputter, before they did their best to catch their breath and begin to watch the former island paradise burn. Not that they were there long enough to even know if the island would have been a real paradise, but they still assumed out of optimistic imagination.

“Are we gonna die?” Pinkie asked honestly. Elvis turned to her, humor drained from him upon the sudden question as he considered it thoughtfully.

“Dunno,” Elvis replied. “A bit too early to tell, Rosa, but without the jungle...”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat there, watching the flames eat away the vegetation with reckless abandon, billowing dark smoke and ash into the air, more than enough to be seen for miles. They sat and watched for as long as they could, before the two reclined and laid upon the sand and watched the sky. Aside from the horrible dark grey splotch of smoke, the sky was nearly clear and inviting, with no hint or threat of another storm coming.

“Least we don’t have to worry about getting soaked in the rain anymore.”

“Yeah.”

Minutes ticked away into hours as the two resigned to their circumstances, letting their stress slowly melt away. Yet, they both would confess that, despite the doom they could feel in their hearts over now being trapped on a nearly lifeless island, they felt more at ease than ever before. The universe itself could make the situation worse by ending the world itself, and neither could care. Sure, Pinkie misses her friends and family, but she wasn’t one to lie to herself if push came to shove. Elvis, too, was no stranger to attachments he may have, but this wasn’t the first time he was taken away from everything.

“Can ya swim?” Elvis asked.

Pinkie took hazarded a glance to Elvis and thought for a moment, before answering with, “Well, not across seas, or anything like that.”

“What about el granjera de manzanas?”

“With those legs of hers?” She started, and rolled back over to face the sky. “I don’t know. But, if anyone can do it, it’d be Applejack.”

“I’d pay to see that”

“Yeah, right about now, actually.” She giggled, which followed by Elvis letting out a light chortle himself. The two reclined and sighed as the island continued to burn. As the flamed slowly began to die out, the atmosphere became a little more sombre. The weight of their unique circumstance pinned them to the sand they reclined upon. “Hey, Elvis?”

“Mmh?”

“Thanks.”

Elvis paused for a minute. “For what?”

“For sticking with me and practically saving me this whole time. I mean, sure I can take care of myself and know a few out door survival basics, but... you know...”

Elvis scrunched his face a bit and waved it off. “Rosa, stop,” he began, “It’s the least I can do for what happened. If I didn’t-”

Pinkie knew exactly what her friend was going to say, and promptly interrupted him. “Nope, nuh-uh, not gonna let you act all guilty and self depreciating now, bub. We agreed this was both of our fault, remember.”

“Eh...” he grumbled. “Yeah. Still.”

“Still, I wasn’t going to let you be a sourpuss in the cabin the whole time. If anyone should apologize, it should be me.”

“Nah, I needed it... Still don’t like sailing, though. I hope I never get on a maldito barco again.”

“No promises.”

“Ugh.”

Silence lingered for a little while, before Pinkie spoke again. “I’m still glad you’re here with me, though.”

“Same.” There was no hesitation in his voice, or anything to consider. For that, Pinkie gave a warm smile, and turned back to the raging inferno before them. Suddenly, her belly rumbled, demanding breakfast after the long night behind them. Elvis sighed, scratching the back of his head as he slowly got back to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ you some breakfast, chica. Can you eat seaweed?”

She blanched at the idea, but quickly realized it was just sushi without the rice. Hesitantly, she considered it for a moment before finally answering. “Not on its own, but I’ll give it a shot.”

As Elvis gave a thumbs up, he turned toward the sea, only to witness something large in the distance heading right towards them. He shadowed his eyes with his hand and squinted to try and get a better look, and soon found he was looking at a very large boat. Almost immediately after, he noticed something small launch off of said boat and fly right towards the island in a vivid rainbow streak.

“Rosa, you ain’t gonna believe this.”

Author's Note:

Oasis