• Published 5th Jan 2017
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Driven Batty - Tangent



When Batty, formerly a middle aged brony who found himself inserted into Ponyville as a young Bat pony filly roughly ten years prior to the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration, inadvertently inspires Pinkie pie to join Cheese Sandwich as travelling Par

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The Snark Knight Begins: Insertion Point (UPDATED: 7/16/2017)

A My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Self Insert

By Tangent

Doctor Big McLarge Horse sighed. “You named her Batty? That’s pretty unimaginative. And possibly insulting.”

“It’s just a descriptor until she wakes up and can tell us what her name is," the intern, Jelly Donut, defended his decision, trying not to be intimidated by the rather large stallion whose head brushed up against the hallway's ceiling. "It’s not like there are any other negasi in Ponyville to confuse her with.”

“Thestral,” Dr. Big McLarge Horse corrected with a scowl.

“What?”

“The proper term for her tribe is thestral. Or nocturnus if you want to use the Old Equish term.”

“Really? I’ve always heard them referred to as either negasi or bat ponies,” JD admitted.

“Look, just don’t use that term if you can at all avoid it. Especially around any actual thestrals or pegasi.”

“Is it really that important?”

“Calling her a negasus implies that she’s a deformed member of the pegasus tribe. Which is insulting to both tribes in general.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“See that you do.”

“Um…” JD hesitated.

“Yes?”

“Do thestrals drink blood?”

Dr. Big McLarge Horse put a hoof to his face. “She arrived in the middle of the day and was exposed to direct sunlight without promptly burning down to a pile of ash. I think it’s safe to conclude that she isn’t a fictional monster.”

“Maybe she’s a vampire fruit-pony?”

“And now you’re just making stuff up.”

“Hey! It could happen!”

Jelly Donut wilted under Dr. Big McLarge Horse's glare.

*o O o O o*

Waking up in a hospital bed wasn’t new.

Nor was waking up in pain.

Waking up as a member of another species, one with an extra pair of limbs, no fingers or toes, and the wrong gender on top of all that? That was actually quite a bit different, and she didn't know how to feel about all of (or even any of) the changes.

So she ended up feeling emotionally numb about her new situation. Oh, there'd be a reaction later. Panic, confusion, curiosity, denial, and acceptance. And not necessarily in that order. But at the moment, she couldn't really bring herself to care all that much.

Instead, she was feeling the eternal 'meh' of being in the hospital, with vague memories of bright light, loud thunder, and intense pain, without any recollection of the actual cause of any of it.

Her arms, or actually forelegs now that she looked at them, were covered in grey fur and ended in hooves. Her face had a short muzzle, and what little she saw of what she now assumed to the bangs of a mane drooping in front of her eyes indicated that it was black. Or at least had black as a primary component.

Running her tongue over her teeth revealed that she had prominent fangs bracing her incisors. Those on the top more being larger than the bottom pair. the rest of her teeth felt about normal, so she expected that her diet was still basically omnivorous in nature. She'd have to check that somehow.

She had ears that she could swivel independently of each other (and what an interesting sensation that was), and could hear a feint hum from the lamp on the nightstand next to the hospital bed she was in, as well as faint chatter and the clip-clop of hooves walking through what she presumed to be a nearby hallway.

On top of all that, she apparently also had what felt like a distorted pair of arms connected to her back. Was she a Pegasus?

No...

She was pretty sure that Pegasus wings didn't have fingers with skin stretched between them. Or the sharp teeth for that matter. So she had to be a bat pony (or whatever they were called).

That probably explained why everything seemed so bright. Not unbearably so, but still uncomfortable.

"Good morning, Batty!" a white pony wearing a nurse's cap called out as she entered the room. "It's time to get you cleaned up and... Oh! You're awake!"

"Um... Hi?" She was named Batty? Wasn't that a bit like calling a pegasus 'Birdy'? "I... guess I'm feeling okay?"

"Well, that's good. So... Could you tell me your name, dear?"

"Beatrice Abigail Normal," the filly snarked, feeling an impish impulse. "I think I prefer Batty though. It's better than being called Abby Normal."

"I... suppose it would be," the nurse responded, wondering what got into some parents when it came to naming their foals. Still, it was good that they had a proper name for the young thestral filly now. And even better that she liked being called Batty, as she was likely to be hearing it a lot as the staff had gotten used to using it over the past several weeks.

Batty, for her part, had no idea that the nurse didn't realize that she was joking, and just provided the first name she could think of off the top of her head on a whim. To be honest, she was fine with having Batty as a nickname. It gave her an excuse to be a bit silly when she felt like it.

She had a feeling that she'd be leaning on her sense of humor a lot in the immediate future.

“What’s your name?” Batty asked the nurse as she tried to figure out how to get down off of the bed. Judging from how big everything seemed to be in comparison to herself, she guessed that she was physically about the size that the CMC were in season one. Or perhaps just a bit smaller.

“It’s Tender Loving Care,” the nurse replied, smiling as she helped the young filly get to the floor. “Careful now. You’ve been in bed for a while, so you may be a little unsteady on your hooves.”

Batty couldn’t help but agree with this assessment as she stood shakily on all four legs. Only for all four legs to shoot out from under her, leaving her sprawled out on the floor.

“Oh my! Are you okay, Batty?” Nurse TLC asked, firmly suppressing a giggle.

“Just inspecting the floor,” Batty replied dryly. “It’s very clean.”

“That’s nice. Do you think you can get up again on your own, or would you like some help?”

“No, no, I got this,” the filly waved off the offer with a wing as she attempted to stand up again, only for her legs to scrabble against the smooth floor. Just as she was almost upright again, her forelegs betrayed her by slipping to the rear, leaving her with her chin on the floor and her flank in the air. “I think my dignity just died.”

“Oh dear…”

“Okay, third time’s the charm…” Batty started to shift her forelegs under her to try to lift herself up again, only for her rear legs to start scrabbling as her balance shifted, resulting in her scooting foreward at a respectable clip. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! WALL!” THUMP!!! “Owchies…”

“Maybe we should get you a safety mat to practice on first,” Nurse Tender Loving Care offered. “Or maybe a wheelchair first, since we still have to get you clean, and I think you’d prefer to do it in a bathroom.”

“Thank you,” Batty sighed in resignation.

She’d have to show the floor who was boss later, once she was more coordinated.

Oh yes, maintaining a sense of humor about all of this was going to be a must...

*o O o O o*

“And here we are,” Nurse Tender Loving Care said as she lifted Batty from the wheelchair and set her in the tub. “Let’s get you nice and clean.”

“Yay?” the young (looking) thestral was uncertain how she felt about her current situation. She experimentally tried to pick up a sponge with one of her hooves. Emphasis on ‘tried,’ as no matter how she turned, twisted, or pressed, she could not seem to grasp it well enough to pick it up. At least not with just one hoof. Unfortunately, having to use two hooves to hold the sponge limited where she could reach with it, and handling it was still awkward at best. Then Batty tried to position it better between her hooves by using her mouth…

“Bleh!”

“Got a mouth full of soap, did you?”

“… yes.” Ooh! Her wings were vaguely hand-like! Or, at the very least, had ‘thumbs’ which she could use to try to hold things! Perhaps if she just reached around with one and… “Ow!”

“Are you alright?”

“M’fine,” Batty mumbled, holding a hoof to the closed eye. “Just poked myself in the eye with a wing.”

“Let me have a look at it,” Nurse TLC said as she gently pulled Batty’s hoof away from the eye and then held the eye open. “I don’t see any obvious damage, but I’m going to have somepony get one of the doctors to look at you. Will you be alright by yourself for just a moment?”

“Yes.”

“Just wait patiently,” Nurse TLC requested as she turned off the water. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Batty nodded agreeably, resolving to just sit there quietly.

Experimentally, she splashed some of the water around with one of her hooves.

“Hehe…”

That was more fun than Batty expected. Still, Nurse TLC would be back any moment now and she wanted to make a good impression. Best to just sit still.

Carefully keeping her wings away from her face, Batty tried splashing water with them.

“Hahaha!”

Okay, okay, almost made a mess there. Time to quiet down and be a good little filly.

Oh, what could having a little fun hurt?

“Bwahahahahaha!!!”

*o O o O o*

“She’s right in here, Doctor…” Nurse Tender Loving Care’s voice trailed off as she saw that every available surface in the bathroom was now dripping wet, and Batty was now laying awkwardly beside the tub, trying to use her wings and hooves to pry the rinse pail off of her head. “What happened!? I was only gone for five minutes!”

“I have no idea,” Batty claimed, not quite sure she could explain the sequence of events herself. “Um… Could you get this bucket off of my head? It’s kinda stuck…”

“Oh, Beatrice Abigail Normal, what am I going to do with you?”

Author's Note:

As of 5/8/2018, Pinklestia is no-longer serving as a co-writer of this story. We did not have a falling out, as such, but anytime either of us tried to get together to work on this story, one or the other of us would present ideas or directions for Batty that the other didn't want to use or follow.

It probably wasn't the best idea for our first collaborative effort be done with a self-insert story, so my apologies to Pinklestia, as Driven Batty was the story I was working on at the time when Pinklestia first proposed that we try to co-write something together.

Pinklestia and I may end up working on another collaborative story at some point in the future, but Driven Batty is not going to be that story. From here on out, the bat flies solo...