Foals are Friends, not Food
It had been a while since the cultists had found his immobile form, and while he was still incapable of movement, merely being in the presence of other sapient beings again did wonders for him. Though some may wonder, "Ted, how can you be sure they're cultists?" to which he'd respond "Elementary, my dear idiot, did simple believers in a deity talk constantly of 'Spreading her darkness to all lands?" No, they didn't." They also didn't usually chant, hoping for horrific nightmares as gifts from 'their lady'. The big cheese seemed to be trying to bring this Nightmare character back, using the armor Tedna was sealed in as a medium
'Wait, Tedna? Why would I refer to myself as that? Oh hell, the memories, I'm going to end up with a brain stew if this keeps up. First things first, if these guys succeed. Find a way to reinforce the mental wall between my memories and that girls. Otherwise I may end up walking into the wrong bathroom.'
It took a while, but eventually, the room his prison was held in was once again filled with cultists, all eagerly awaiting the word of El Queso Grande. This time felt different though. There was a hushed energy in the air, as if they were getting ready for something big, and it was contagious. Even not being able to see what was happening, Ted found himself growing excited as well. He may finally be getting out of this damned prison!
"Sisters and brothers! Long have we toiled to bring back our mistress from her wrongful imprisonment! Tonight, By the darkness of the reborn Moon, we return unto her what was stolen so many years ago. A vessel to call her own! Before this night is through, The Living Nightmare shall walk again amongst the waking world!"
The guy certainly had charisma, if nothing else. Soon the chanting started, though he couldn't make out a single word they used. Soon after the chanting had settled into a smooth rhythm, he started to feel a strange vibration in the air, and energy that he'd only felt in the memories of the girl. Before he'd felt them, he'd wondered what she'd meant when she'd described magic, now though, many of those descriptions made sense. It was an energy that was just... different from anything he'd felt back home, something that pierced even the haze that even now was attempting to smother him.
'Holy shit, are they actually pulling this off?'
As the chanting and the buzzing of magic reached a crescendo, Ted felt a pull, like water being sucked down a drain. Once the pull reached his, 'head' everything blurred before coming back into focus. Sharper actually. He could clearly hear the weary but excited voices of those that had been working to free him, he could smell the old musty scent of a cellar, as well as a strange smell he couldn't identify. It reminded him of a farm, only... not? Finally, for the first time in who knew how long, he opened his eyes, and got a good look at his current location.
'Huh... actually, that kinda makes sense, considering some of the terminology Lunacae was using, not to mention the cultists using 'pony' in the place of 'body' or 'one'.'
Tuna found himself staring into a room full of alien cultists- pony alien cultists, mind you- and despite the oddity of the situation, compounded wit the fact that he found herself looking like one of their kind, albeit larger, dark haired and maned version, she couldn't bring himself to panic. Stranger things existed her memories, after all. The implements they'd used for the ritual, small braziers that still smoldered long after the ritual had been completed smelled strongly of strange herbs. Candles scattered throughout the room had long since burned out, leaving nothing but lumps of wax. The room was stuffy, almost to the point of being claustrophobia inducing, but the hope he felt directed at her form...
Damnit, he was doing it again.
Speaking of the alien princess' memories, they would probably come in handy about now. With the proper physical context, he pulled some memories of the host, as he had dubbed the lady, and cautiously stood up. Going by the reaction some of the cultists had to this, he may as well have promised them all immortality. Some cried, some laughed, others a combination of the two while hugging the pony next to them. The faces were alien, yes, but the emotions expressed were surprisingly easy to read. Untold hours of work seen to a job's completion. Maybe it had something to do with the ridiculously sized eyes? He was brought out of his thoughts by the approach of El Cultist Grande.
"We are at your command, Mistress of Living Shadow. Your will be done." The robed pony said, bowing low.
'Yea, deffinately think I'm the parasite. Great-wait, did he say-' A quick check of his black-furred lower body scared him briefly, before a double-check of the hosts memories on anatomy confirmed that while he couldn't see it, yes, he was still male; even if 'it' looked really weird at the moment. Releasing a sigh of relief, he allowed himself to slump a bit, before turning back to the pony bowing before him. 'I can't wait to see his face, haha!' "Master actauly, I require a room to rest in. And nourishment. I still have some recovering to do, though you have done more than I'd expected." He could play the bad guy for now, he supposed. How hard could it be?
The head cultists face was a warzone of emotion. Loyalty to his god/goddess fought with confusion. Finally urged the stare of his mis-master, he acted. "Gleam! Show the m-master to his room. Blur, fetch a meal from the kitchens. Tell Slop to prepare it, as well."
<-(0)->
It was slow going on the trip to his temporary quarters. The temple/castle/place was genuinely interesting, and being about four hundred years old, he could pretend it was 'after his time.' Just as he was becoming comfortable with his new form of locomotion, his guide opened a door to a larger room. It was lavishly decorated, compared to the rest of the rooms he'd seen, though that wasn't saying much. The place as a whole was pretty run-down. Now that he thought about it, so were the inhabitants. Looking at his guide, he looked closely at the robe fitting around her frame, and could almost make out bones against the tattered clothing. It, actually, it kinda broke his heart, seeing someone that hungry, still willing to do whatever they had to. The mare looked up from her bow, before immediately returning it to the ground, seeing him staring at her. God's above, it was too much for him, he had to do something...
"Do we not have adequate supplies?" he asked her.
"W-we make do with what we have, y-your darkness" She answered, studdering slightly.
He pressed on. He had to do this right, to not destroy their hopes. After all, the only thing binding them together in this misery was the hope that they'd summoned a big bad. Sure some of the cultists seemed like the type to do that for the hell of it, but this one? What would drive someone like this to try and bring back a literal demon? "That did not answer my question."
She was visibly shaking now, terrified of how her answer would be received, so once again, she attempted to divert it. "Our s-state won't interfere wi-"
"Do not Dance around the Question, Knave!" Ted's voice boomed out, blowing the hood off of what was freshly revealed to be a guant and dirty cherry-red unicorn mare. "Are supplies that hard to come by at our current location?"
"N-no sir!"
"Than why do my followers starve?"
"T-the jungle, sir. Every expedition we lost at least one forager. One group was never heard from again. N-none of us are fighters, not very good ones, and it was just safer to stay here and finish the ritual!"
Ted fixed the mare with a flat look. They were barely making it, most of them probably running on nothing more than fumes. "An improperly maintained blade can be just as dangerous to the wielder as to his enemies. We will resupply tomorrow, once I've rested and have studied the local flora and fauna. Bring the relevant tomes to my chambers, Post-Haste!"
With an undignified squeak, the mare bolted down the corridor, leaving a very confused Ted in her wake. He was never that loud, nor did he ever use intimidation like that. It was almost like he was acting...
'Like a different person... I still need to reinforce that partition.' Scrambling ungracefully onto the bed, by all that is good did it feel nice, Ted hunkered down, dug through his gracious hosts memories, and set to work.
<-(0)->
'... A bit more power here, attach a fortification array to that spot there, make the mana in this particular array flow... counter-clockwise? No, clockwise, counter would drain the array, causing more memory leaks down the road.'
While having some hundreds of years old mage-ruler's memories in his head certainly caused some problems for him, he was using freaking magic to solve the memory issues he'd been suffering from for a while now. A few respectful knocks brought him out of his musings, focusing his attention on the door. It opened, revealing another robed pony pushing in a care laden with strange, but surprisingly good-smelling foods.
'Right, different physical form, different diet.' While his human memories were telling him that half of this stuff was inedible, his nose and his hosts memories were quite adamant that everything before him was not only edible, but it would taste downright delicious. Pastries of different shapes and sizes, several pasta dishes with tantalizing sauces, a silver tea-set; all of the dishes and implements bearing a moon and star motif.
That was when the head cultist rolled in it, the special treat they had prepared for their mistress' return. There was no way around it at this point, whatever or whoever it was he'd been swapped with was the literal pony bogeyman(mare?) made flesh. Tied up on the second cart was a small child, staring at him in abject terror.
'Nope. Nope, nope, so much nope. All aboard the Nope-train to Fuck-that-istan.'
Keeping his face as straight as he could, he stared at the pink maned, green furred filly, before turning to the leader. "Why is there a foal in my salad?"
"Le-legends spoke of your, er, preference for small foals as a, um, snack, your darkness."
Using his ever-expanding knowledge of magic, he floated the child right up to him. The foals eyes widened, wavering with fear. She probably would have soiled herself if she was capable of it, but there were several suppression spells on the little girl. She barely had enough control to breath and blink.
'The diabetes is real'
Staring a hole into the little filly for a few minutes, he'd finally found the relevant memories, and spoke. "The problem with legends, Head Cultist in Charge, is that only the most spectacular are worth remembering. Thus, they are often blown out of proportion. One time, one time only did I threaten to consume the first born of one of my enemies. It was an intimidation tactic, and it worked." Ted then turned to the leader. "No, I do not regularly consume the flesh of children. And before you try to infer it, I don't eat them rarely, either. Leave me."
Once again the lead cultists face was torn with confusion, but he loyally obeyed his master. The others followed his lead, leaving Ted alone with a veritable banquet and a terrified child, the latter still floating in his magical grip. Looking back to the meal, his stomach grumbled. Setting the foal down on the bed and dismissing most of the suppression spells holding her in place(those stopping her from ruining his perfectly comfy bed-sheets could stay in place for now), he grabbed a few dishes and some silver utensils, and started to dig in. Nearly as soon as the suppression spells were gone, the filly darted to the other side of the bed, burrowing into the small pile of pillows to try and hide, leaving only her tail to tell him where she'd gone. The food was delicious, though if that was because of his hunger or the fact that he'd not eaten anything in who knew how long wasn't important to him. Absentmindedly, he spread a sweet smelling jam on a slice of bread, floating it over the pile of pillows, he asked. "When was the last time you ate?" His query was answered with silence, though he could see eyes under those pillows, shifting between him and the offered toast.
"Do you have a name?" He tried again. A strangled squeak, accented by the fillies tail being pulled into her fortress. Seeing he was getting no-where with his attempts, he shrugged.
"Squeaker it is." Ted said, before returning to his meal, the toast now lying near the pile of pillows.
"Rose"
"Hmm?"
"Daddy called me Rose, you can't change my name!" The little filly was now poking her head out of the pillows, glaring at him.
'Anger, huh? It's better than paralyzing terror, I suppose.' "Rose huh? I don't know, you're not that pretty. Maybe dandelion?" He said, teasing the little filly. 'Step one, distract.'
"Rose!"
"Ah, thorns, that's why he called you that, huh?" Ted asked, snickering slightly at her outburst. "So Rose, are you hungry?"
Almost faster than he could track, the filly darted out, grabbed the toast, and disappeared back into Fort Pillow. Ted smiled. Kids will be kids, even if they're aliens. Unless they were xenomorphs, he supposed. Or honey badgers. Or...
'aaand now the happy's gone. Good job, Ted'
Before he could find himself entertaining thoughts of all the horrid pictures of babbies he'd seen on the interwebs, the door opened with a squeak, drawing his attention, as well as the attention of his right ear. 'Ok, that's going to take some getting used to.'
Gleam entered the room with a cart piled high with ratty books, moth eaten scrolls, and time-worn maps. The other two robed ponies helping her with the cart, upon closer inspection, were looking just as run-down as Gleam was. Taking a few snacks for the kid off of the cart, he waved the ponies to the cart.
"I've had my fill. There's plenty left over, share it with your fellows. I won't hear of food being wasted." Ted watched the shocked faces of the cultists, one hungrily eying one of the sandwiches he'd left untouched. Yes they were cultists, but until further notice, they were his cultists, and no one could convince him they didn't need all the help they could get. It was why he'd asked for the information. Tomorrow, he'd personally be escorting the foragers. God have mercy on whatever thought his little cultists looked tasty.
...He would have none.
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Ah, a fair ruler, uh?
i874.photobucket.com/albums/ab305/motomobbers/Confused-Cat-Meme-1-610x457_zpsb75e74fe.jpg
This story confuses me!
He's a big Packers fan.
lparchive.org/Resident-Evil-4-(Screenshot)/Update%207/Image26.jpg
Turning into a decent story.
Alrighty then. Onwards, to adventure!
5918612 Great, now every time i replay RE4, i will always remember this picture.
5926271
You need to read The Dark Id's Let's Play of RE4. It is hilarious from start to finish.
Honey badgers don't care!
Honey badgers don't give a fuck!
Pretty good so far.
5928720 until you pull out an RPG from your jacket like it's an infinite storage
*actually*
*I*
That sentence fragment in the middle seems off, too.
You really need to get some editing done on this. There were quite a few mistakes throughout the entire chapter.
My imagination supplied me with the image of a little honey badger fighting a little xeno and the honey badger winning. Then eating the xeno.
ALL HAIL THE HONEY BADGER!
The likes have turned evil!!!!
5980812
Honey badger don't give a shit.
Title? Foals are friends not food! makes me think of Bruce.
vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/pixar/images/8/8f/Bruce-FindingNemo3D.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120609023814
I haven't heard anything about honey badgers in a long time...
i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/831/254/515.gif
Hehehe, My Little Cultist, fanaticism is magic.
I don't get this. All religious people want to spread their religion through all the land, it just so happens that this religion has a real entity that they can spread. There is no difference between a religion and a cult, except for the number of followers and the majority's opinion.
Meanwhile... NMM played Half-Life 3 to death.
6080759
Actually there is a difference and a rather significant one between a religion and a cult. It is just that the difference does not apply to monotheistic religions. For example: a person's religion might be traditional Greek Paganism and his cult might worship Hermes, yet another Pagan might worship Bacchus or Apollo.
Another example would be someone whose religion is Judaism; Cult worships YHWH (yes the vowels are intentionally left out, fun fact YHWH or the Tetragrammaton can be pronounced Yahweh, Jehovah, or Iabe) theoretically the religions of Christianity and Islam (and a few others) share the Jewish cult; Sect (lets not discuss sects, this is an all-ages website) lets say Orthodox.
"with"
"in"
"actually"
"babies"
Actually, I can't keep this up, but these are some typos I found.
6261176 actually "babby" is really a sort of playful way to say "baby", not saying it wasn't a mistake but the possibility is there
Ok. I'm liking Ted. Let's see where this story goes.
Sandcroft brought me here because he said the story and character were perfect, he didn't lie. ten out of ten
6547220 OMG. That was just too funny. Now I've gotta go and see that series. XD
6547220 I see your link and I crush your spine with a hug!
I...I'm sorry. This story is barely coherent, much less paced properly. I'll pop ahead and see if it's improved enough to warrant pushing through the beginning, but between the typos and general ADHD feel, this is pretty painful to read.
6843170 It was suppose to feel that way.
P.S. wow, this comment is old.
The name Ted is short for Theodore witch means "god-given". It comes from the Greek name Theodōros meaning "god-given", from the Greek words theos, meaning "god" and dōron, meaning "gift". How appropriate.
I just decided to reread this and came across this part. I haven't stopped giggling for about five minutes now.
8202016 if you like that, google nope fish and nope rope.
“You guys might be evil crazy cultists, but you’re my evil crazy cultists.”
I can already tell that I'm going to like this.
8220999
Well, as long as they stop foalnapping ponies, and do whatever I say, they cant really be all that bad!!!!
Yeah...I wouldn't imagine chest busters or face huggers to be very good company.
"Look, sweetie! The face hugger likes you~"
"MMMPPHHHH!!"
"Aww, that's just his way of saying hi."
I Couldn't help but think of that.
babbies
Still my favorite line in this story i have read up to.
Good thing you have here
8619097
me too
Good stories are hard to find,still i have put it in my favorites.
The adaption to circumstances felt well written here
I really love this line
I think you can see the typos
Damn... Human x Nightmare/Luna memorys= Success!
Please tell me we are not going to be friends with the mane six and sunbutt by the end of this
6080759
I agree with you 100 percent.