• Published 29th Apr 2012
  • 31,770 Views, 2,028 Comments

A Ghost Story - Elemist

A human's insubstantial adventures in Equestria.

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Chapter 3 - Stormy start

Bobbing along behind Lyra, I admired her saddlebags that were currently bulging with an ample supply of apples. Of course it was the same bluish green as her fur and was clasped shut with an intricate metal clasp in the shape of her cutie-mark. I wonder if Rarity made all of Ponyville’s saddlebags since they were all obviously custom made.

Lyra trotted around the marketplace stopping every now and then for additional purchases, I still laugh every time a pony bought a bouquet of flowers only to devour them. As we were passing Applejacks stand I burst out laughing at the antics of a certain pink party pony and rainbow maned Pegasus.

“Pinkie, why in the hay are you kicking me? You’re going to give our position away to AJ and ruin the prank!”

“Twitchy, Twitch Dashie! My Pinkie Sense is going off again.”

“Hay, what mischief are ya two varmints up ta, over there. You two even think of usin’ that there pie for anything other than eatin’ and I’ll buck you two inta next Thursday!” Applejack turned to the two would be pranksters with mock outrage on her face.

Laughing to myself as Lyra and I made a tactical withdrawal from the marketplace, I began to reminisce about my first encounter with the three mares now arguing the finer points of whether an apple pie was better for eating or for target practice.


After my horrifying realization that I might never be able to sleep again, I decided that now would be as good a time as any to explore the rest of Ponyville. Floating over the town for hours on end, I began to develop a pretty good mental map of the place when something caught my eye.

Hovering above the northern part of town was a bank of clouds shaped into what I could only describe as a mansion large enough to claim that whoever built it was overcompensating for something. In other words, Rainbow Dash’s cloud house.

Instantly intrigued, I zipped towards the closest wall and dived through. Expecting the usual pinpricks, I was surprised when instead of the pins and needles sensation as I was accustomed too, I felt as if I had dived through a pool of cold mashed potatoes. You may ask how I know what a pool full of cold mashed potatoes feels like but all I will say is it involved a great deal of alcohol, about two hundred dollars’ worth of instant potatoes and a pissed off pool owning neighbor.

Anyway, I turned back to look at the collection of clouds I had just passed through to see that in the middle of the white expanse is a me shaped mass of darker clouds. Looking at the floor I see that the darker spot has indeed begun precipitating, I hope nopony is wondering around at night under Dash’s house, they would be in for a very cold surprise.

I turn around to survey what was apparently Dash’s living room. The large amount of clutter and garbage spread about the place gives me a pang of homesickness. “Ah, a mare after my own heart.” I whisper as I float over the various pieces of fast-food wrappers and other miscellaneous clutter gracing the floor.

I wonder why the trash isn’t falling through the floor? For that instance why isn’t her furniture giving into the call of gravity and plummeting to the ground below. Assuming it most likely has to do with the all-encompassing answer of “magic” I continue to explore.

Wandering from room to room I get the distinct feeling that somepony might just be the tiniest bit interested in the Wonderbolts due to the wide variety of posters, stuffed toys and other paraphernalia scattered throughout the abode. My travels eventually lead me to a room where the sound of a chipmunk being choked by an angry beaver assaults my ears.

Peeking in, I burst into laughter at the site of Dash snoring uproariously on top of her covers. With a magazine of some kind draped over her chest and her back legs twitching every once in a while, she is enough to send me into fits of laughter again.

Making an internal bet with myself that she was reading something to do with the Wonderbolts I will myself over to investigate.

Well…I guess that answers my question of whether Dash is gay or not as I look down at the cover of the rather riské “Play Mare” resting on Dash’s chest.

Blinking a few times in surprise, I decide to leave the mare to her privacy. That is until I get a devilishly good idea. Dash loves pulling pranks, right? I wonder how she will take one pulled on her.

Floating up to the ceiling above her, I jab my arms into the cloudy surface and begin waving them about. A mischievous grin blooms onto my face as the clouds begin to darken and I see a single drop of water fall onto Dash’s covers (Emblazed with Wonderbolt colors of course). After a few more seconds of stirring a literal downpour of water drops from the ceiling onto the snoring pony.

*GASP* “What the hay?!”

Bursting into laughter I watch as Dash jumps onto all fours whirling around as her drenched mane smacks into her back.

“All right, who’s there? Come on out and face your beating like a stallion.” She calls, raising her front hooves up and throwing a few punches at invisible foes.

“Nopony pranks me while I’m sleeping. I know it’s you Pinkie, get your balloon covered flank out here.”

She stops her shadow boxing and looks around in confusion, “Pinkie? You there?”

Deciding I had all the fun I was going to get messing with Dashie, I float out through her bedroom wall into the predawn light that is covering Ponyville.

“What in the name of Celestia’s Sun is that!?” Dash’s confused voice sounds from her bedroom window.

I glance back from where I came and smack my forehead in annoyance. Staring back at me is a human shaped patch of black clouds in her bedroom wall.

A rainbow trail zips past me and heads at breakneck speeds towards the center of town and what I can only assume is Twilight’s Library.

Shrugging, I begin floating around aimlessly as Celestia’s aforementioned Sun continues to rise in the east.

A slow but regular thumping sound grabs my interest and glancing down I grin as I see acres upon acres of apple trees. Following the steady thumps I eventually find the Stetson and ponytail totting pony.

I watch in fascination as a swift kick knocks a tree load of apples into waiting baskets spread out onto the ground. I wince slightly at the impact, what did that poor tree ever do to deserve such a beating?

Leaving Applejack to continue her vicious onslaught on the defenseless trees, I start exploring the orchard. Marveling at the apparent lack of disease and pests that I would normally expect on any orchard from back home my eyes catch a glint of red hoping down a dirt path outside of the orchard.

Approaching, I watch a diminutive Applebloom balancing a bucket of what I identify as table scraps on her head as she heads towards one of the barns dotting the landscape. Shadowing behind the little bundle of “Dawww”, I watch as she tips the scraps into a long trough that is immediately assaulted by a long line of plump pink pigs.

Now, I understand the whole keeping cows for milk, chickens for eggs and even sheep for their wool but there was always one thing that bothered me. “If you guys don’t eat meat, why in the name of Celestia’s Beard do you Ponies raise pigs?” I wonder aloud.

“Huh, did you say something Big Mac?”

My eyebrow rises in confusion as Applebloom turns towards me and looks around. A suspicion rushes towards the front of my mind as I open my mouth, “You talking to me sweetheart?”

Her left ear tilts upwards making her look like an inquisitive puppy, “I could have sworn I heard somepony just now.”

Huh, I guess foals and animals could at least sense something was off when I was around. Not wanting to cause the adorable little thing discomfort I zip off towards Ponyville, leaving Sweet Apple Acres to its own devices.

Lazily gazing down at the numerous pony sized houses below me I wonder who I should look in on next. Glancing around the marketplace underneath me I spot a building that made my mouth water, or at least it would have if I still had the capacity to drool.

Dropping slowly through the roof of Sugar Cube Corner, I prepare to partake in the immediate sugar rush that is known as Pinkie Pie.

My decent is stopped by the diabetes inducing sound of two infant foals giggling in joy as I’m about to pass through the second floor. I turn around to see a tiny Pegasus and an equally tiny Unicorn giggling and clapping their hooves together from behind the tiny wooden bars of their crib.

I float over to their wooden imprisonment, “So what you two in the joint for, being too darn adorable?”

My statement is met with laughter as the twins look up to me as I float next to their crib.

“Wait a minute. You two can see and hear me can’t you?”

The clapping of hooves and nodding of diminutive heads answer my question.

“Awesome-sauce. You two are now known as best ponies until further notice.”

I spend the next half an hour or so playing peek-a-boo (takes on a whole new meaning when you can literally pop through the wall and go “Boo”) and making silly faces to keep the twins entertained.

My impromptu play date is interrupted by a sleepy looking Mr. Cake who wanders in to investigate why the twins were behaving themselves this morning.

Beating a hasty retreat through the floor, I’m greeted by the pink tornado that is Pinkie Pie as she hurries around the Kitchen, apparently baking at least half a dozen (bakers I assumed) different confectionary treats at the same time. I float near the ceiling, amazed at the boundless energy that the party pony is exhibiting this early in the morning.

Approaching one of the countertops to consult one of the cookbooks to see just what Pinkie is baking, I hear an almighty crash resounding from behind me. I flip around to see a spilled bowl of batter covering the floor and a pink pony twitching on the floor.

“Twitchy, twitch…Double ear flop…leg kick, that’s a new one. I wonder what my Pinkie sense is telling me this time.” I float up next to her to see if she was injured or not (like I could do anything about it) and she begins twitching all over again.

Immediately backing away from, her twitching appendages stop flailing all over the place and she looks around in search of whatever set off her Pinkie Sense.

My oh so familiar sense of suspicion rises in the back of my mind as I glide over towards the pink haired mare to only have her ears flop and her back legs kick out from under her.

Not wanting to hurt her I float out the kitchen door towards the entrance. Apparently my close proximity to the Premier Pink Party Pony of Ponyville causes her Pinkie sense to go all sorts of crazy. I exit the bakery sporting a frown that would break Pinkie’s heart if she could see it and make another realization.

Not only could I not spend time near Pinkie without fear of her twitching all over the place, but I couldn’t pick up one of her delicious looking cupcakes let alone eat one….

I’m never going to taste one of her famous cupcakes…..

Falling to my knees in the middle of the street I let out a resounding “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”, that sends a shiver up the spines of a passing Sweetie Bell and Scootaloo.