Danger Than Fiction, or, Pony Pony Literature Club, or, Take a Look, You're in a Book, or, Four Nerds and an Alcoholic (Who Is also a Nerd), or, Virtue Rewarded

by insaneponyauthor

Drunk Book Friends Chapter Whatever

if at all, but of all tribes and sorts- pouring hurriedly but purposefully around the corners and out of the shops and apartments- and converging with grim intensity on the building which contained this meetingplace. Twinkleshine gulped. “That’s definitely ahead of schedule.”

“Yeeeah, no. This place is getting too busy for my liking.” muttered Moondancer

“Then how do you expect us to get out of this book with all these ponies bumping into us?” said Lyra.

Moondancer thought to herself for a bit before coming up with a plan. “Alright, what if we use all of our magic to force ourselves from here? I mean, the power of multiple unicorns should be plenty of use to get us out of this pickle.” The buzzed friends squeezed their way through the sea of drab citizens as they reached for each other’s hooves.

“Alright, let’s do this! Full power, yo!” hyped up Lyra. The magic from the unicorns started to glow and grow, beyond even what the drunken friends could imagine. The setting and the ponies in it started to fade and condense into words as it seemed their plan started to work.

“I think it’s working!” yelled Twinkleshine. “Man, if this is what Twilight’s been tapping into this whole time, how come we haven’t become princesses yet?”

The reality of the book started to melt as a vision of the store formed. “We’re doing it, WE’RE DOING IT!” The book exploded as the friends floated from it’s shreds.

“I think if we keep at it, we could neutralize the magic from the store from sucking us into to more books,” explained Moondancer. The joy was short lived though, as it seemed the friends’ magic aura was being sucked into another book by force.

“Wait, this shouldn’t be happening, why is that book pulling us in. We haven’t even read it!” The mysterious book was glowing with a magic that seemed unlike any other.

“Brace for impact, I feel like this may be a bumpy ride…” shuttered Minuette. And like that, they disappeared from the bookstore just as they have arrived.

---

Everything felt dark, damp and… confusing.

“Hey guys, open your eyes… I don’t think you’re going to believe this.” whispered Lemon. The other ponies winced as huge, incomprehensible visions of light lined the sky.

Moondancer looked at their surroundings and saw what seemed to be unknown species of fauna and flora, but she couldn’t make out which was which. “Okay, this is starting to get a bit freaky. Do any of you know what any of this is? I don’t think this was a part of our curriculum…”

“Why don’t we just use that group spell again?” asked Minuette.

“I think we used up a lot of magic doing that, we might need to rest for a bit in… whatever the tartarus this place is.” answered Moondancer. Everything fell silent for what felt like an eternity. Ambient auras of an unknown world...

Out of nowhere, little beings popped up from the ground and started fiddling with the area around them. “Guys… guys, GUYS, WHAT IN CELESTIA’S NAME ARE THEY!” screamed Lyra at the top of her lungs. The things quickly turned their heads towards the ponies, frightening them. They then started talking to each other in a tongue that seemed… eerie.

“Taeedgtary jau bhey ly. Yotau Hhay dakhy lkamo bhey!”

“... Did any of you get that?”

Everyone shrugged.

“Hey Moondancer, ya know any language spells or something? It’d be pretty helpful here.” said Twinkleshine.

Moondancer started to charge up a spell and pointed her horn towards one of the little guys. Out came a ray of light that hit one of the beings, causing it to melt and be absorbed by her. “Crap, I did NOT mean to do that… oh no no no!”

Lyra pat Moondancer on the back to reassure her. “Don’t worry, there’s like 50 of ‘em, I’m sure they’ll manage. Now, did ya learn something?”

Moondancer then started to concentrate deeply, when some words blurted out. “Folehls aivn Oheky qokaivn opehal Thedy lbhegy. Eheol ehear ar alam yehal?” One of the little people looked at the others and then looked back at Moondancer. It then nodded and then pointed at what seemed to be a nearby castle made of crystal. Moondancer nodded back and gestured the other ponies to follow her.

“Hey Moondancer, what’cha tell him?” questioned Lyra.

“I just asked him directions for the nearest town. Apparently it’s that giant gem formation over there.” Everyone just shrugged as the trekked on into the unknown.

As the ponies kept going, they noticed that the day-night cycle was a bit off-kilter in this world, with 2 suns and 3 moons going in various directions randomly. “Really a hardcase of time in the place, huh?” said Minuette.

The group then heard a loud roar echo throughout the swamp. “I’m pretty sure that was a dragon’s roar.” whispered Lemon. “I guess some things stay the same, even when some realities don’t make sense.” The roar of the dragon kept approaching at a steady pace, frightening the ponies.

Then, the fear just melted away. “Oh my stars, the dragon’s the size of a strawberry.” squeed Twinkleshine. “I could just pinch it’s itty bitty cheeks!” The dragon then roared into their faces, making the group escape quickly.

After a good while, the gals finally made it to the castle. Lyra glanced at the behemoth of a structure. “Ya know, I thought this place would be closer than it looked, but I guess that was just a perspective thing.” The ponies looked around the area to find an entrance, but none was to be had. In fact, no matter where they looked, they always ended up in the same spot, even if they moved a couple steps.

“Crap, is this one of those euclidean buildings I keep hearing about? I specifically did not want to be in House of Sheaves, and yet this celestiadamn book just throws this at us...” Moondancer then went on a long rant about how she despises buildings that defy the logic of reality, space and time without explanation.

“Hey guys, I think I found something!” yelled Lemon. She then pointed upwards towards a suspicious indent in the castle. “How are we supposed to get up there, none of us can fly, or at least we don’t have the magic to be able to at the moment.”

Rustling started to echo from the hole, as a gangly looking humanoid started to slosh out. “Teheol keheedy? Taror olal okavin okavin qot ykbeeol okavin bhoxkhy davin qo!”

Moondancer replied, “Fal al ohky? Okil oheol kavin lkavin y oheavin?”

The lanky being was surprised that Moondancer knew his native tongue and nodded back in agreement before heading back inside. Just at a moment’s notice, an entrance swirled into existence right where there weren’t. The being pop out and gestured the ponies in. “Folohls avin, Oheky qokavin ofehal!”

Moondancer nodded back before reassuring the others, “He says it’s okay to come in.”

Inside the castle was something that confused the ponies, as what seemed to be many of the same lanky beings bathing in a odd, green liquid. Said liquid was being poured onto them by what seemed to be a flower connected to various pipes that lined the innards of the castle, leading to who knows where. “Why does this places smell like someone spilled menthol all over the place?” asked Lyra.

Minuette then smacked her in the face. “You fool, don’t you understand what this is? This place is an aromatherapy spa, it’s obvious from how the townsfolk are bathing to relax in these luscious fumes!”

Lyra replied, “How do you even know that, you’ve never been here before.”

Things started getting stranger as the ponies kept going deeper into the castle. The lanky man pointed at the paintings that lined the jewel hallways. “Ol heeos ehey eheey olheeeol kavin. Dheidaly okohdy qokedy otan dam.”

Twinkleshine nudged Moondancer, “What’s he talking about? I feel like my brain’s melting just by hearing him talk.”

Moondancer shushed then whispered, “he’s talking about the people who founded the town and it’s landmark pond. Also, he’s taking us somewhere important.”

The man had gestured them to stop, right before what seemed to be a huge pair of doors covered in various vines and shrubbery. “Qokavin ofehal heeos, kavin.” He then slowly opened the doors to reveal something to the drunken pals, something that would help them get free...

Drunk Book Friends Part Fuck

The drugs were beginning to wear off.

“Wild, man,” the thing said. It had been a pretty good buzz, as these things went, and the come down was surprisingly gentle. With herculean effort it managed to focus its eyes long enough to look at Moondancer, and Minuette, and Lyra. Then they went cross, and he laughed at the final member of the party. “Fuckin’ ponies. What’s the that about.”

Moondancer squared her shoulders and summoned up all of her sobriety, and demanded, “What.”

What stood before them--well, it wasn’t really standing, exactly, more slouching over a beanbag chair--was a pony--well, not a pony exactly, given that the back half of it was more akin to a bedazzled slug than any sort of equid, bedazzled or otherwise--wearing a hat--it was definitely a hat, it had a feather and everything--and a bridle, from which hung a jeweled cocoon similar in form to its rear end.

But the universe is a multitudinous place filled with many peoples and many cultures, and this may not translate. Therefore I would ask you dear reader, to instead imagine that you were confronted with a college-aged man, of ill repute and even more ill hygiene, who has clear smoked, consumed, and possibly osmosed some illicit substance from which it is currently coming down, and which is wearing nothing but a lacy bra and a hat with a feather in.

And also its legs are a jewel-encrusted slug. With wheels. That part is pretty important.

“Hey man,” the pony-slug-thing said.

“Mare,” Moondancer said.

“Mare, man,” the thing replied.

“That isn’t funny,” Moondancer replied.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” the thing said.

“I hate you a little bit,” Moondancer said.

The pony-slug blinked. “Shit, man,” he said. “Are you my dad?”

“What?” Moondancer asked.

“Cause my dad hates me a little bit,” the pony-slug explained.

“That’s really sad, actually,” Lyra said. “I don’t think you’re that bad! You speak english!”

“Nah man, I’m Trevor,” the pony-slug named Trevor said. “I do talk a lot, though. Who’s English? He sounds rad.”

“Hey, why does he speak english?” Minuette asked, as though just realizing it. Given her wobbling knees and the look of intense concentration she had focused on the end of her face, it was entirely possible she had.

“Man, that’s like, three questions down the line,” Moondancer said. “What the hell are you?”

“I’m Trevor,” Trevor said.

“No, I got that,” Moondancer said. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Is my brain coming out my ears?”

“Now, Moondancer,” Lyra chastised. She paused for a moment, pointing idly as she struggled to remember what she had been about to say. “Nice! Be nice. Remember what we told you?”

“No, like, this place is weird,” Moondancer said. “I feel like my brain is turning inside out. I mean--”

She caught a look of Lyra’s expression, and sighed. She turned back to Trevor and said, “I’m sorry. I have social problems.” She patted the front of her sweater, and frowned. “I don’t have my cue cards,” she said. She reached down the front of her sweater and pulled out a locket, which she flipped open to reveal a pair of stern, old-fashioned looking ponies. They were not Moondancer’s parents. It was not Moondancer’s Locket.

“Bummer,” Trevor said. “I get anxious without my hat, too. I feel you.”

“No,” Moondancer said, slipping the locket away for a reason she could not quite describe. “They have lines on them. So I know what to say to people when I meet them.” She gestured in an ‘it follows’ motion. “Because I have social problems.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Trevor said. “You could like, get one to remind people to introduce you to people you’re with!”

Moondancer blinked for a moment. “Shit, that was one of them!” she said. She turned around and pointed to her friends. “These are Lyra, and Minuette, and, uh…” She frowned, her mouth hanging open for a long, brain-wrenching moment. “The other one.”

“Fuck you!” cried The Other One.

“Dope!” Trevor said. “I’m Trevor!”

“Hi Trevor!” Lyra said. “I’m Lyra!”

“Hi Lyra!” Trevor said. “I’m Trevor!”

“Hi Trevor!” Lyra said.

“Shut up!” Moondancer said. Lyra shot her a hard glare, and Moondancer rolled her eyes. “Please shut up,” she said.

“Better,” Lyra replied.

Moondancer nodded, and turned back to Trevor. “So seriously though, what are you? Like, Species.”

“I’m a Voynich,” Trevor said.

Moondancer stared at him for a long moment. “Yeah, alright,” she said. “I dunno what I was expecting. What’s up with the slug thing?”

Trevor shrugged. “What’s up with the legs thing?”

Moondancer opened her mouth to argue, but found she couldn't. So she shrugged. “How do you speak english?” she asked.

“That!” Minuette declared suddenly. “Was only two questions down the line.”

“I don’t think that’s important,” Moondancer said.

“Numbers are very important!” said The Other One. “Especially the difference between Two and Three. Two is the first even number! And three is the first prime number!”

“One is the first prime number,” Moondancer corrected.

“And sheml is the first even number!” Trevor declared happily.

The room fell silent for a moment as all of the mares turned to stare at Trevor.

“English, though,” Moondancer said. “What’s up.”

Trevor wiggled a hoof in his ear, and inspected the glob of--something--that came out. “High school,” he said. “Elective course. Three years.”

“Man, your english is good for only three years in high school!” Lyra said.

“Aw, thanks man!” Trevor said. “I like you! You want some tea?”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” Lyra said. “Tea me up, bitch!”

“Hold up, I have more questions,” Moondancer said.

“Question me up, bitch!” Trevor declared.

“Don’t call a lady bitch!” Minuette said, lifting her chin sharply into the air. “That’s extremely rude.”

“He’s not wrong though,” The Other One said.

“I’m working on it!” Moondancer cried, indignant.

“You called me ‘The Other One!” The Other One cried back.

“It’s hard work!” Moondancer said.

“Self-improvement is an arduous process and we must have patience with those who have declared the intent to better themselves, otherwise they’ll never become anything more than they are!” Minuette declared loudly.

The Other One harrumphed, but didn’t argue. Moondancer harrumphed as well, and thought for a moment. “What was I gonna ask?” she asked.

“One lump or two?” Trevor suggested.

Lyra giggled. “No, that’s what you ask!” she said.

“Yeah,” Trevor said. “One lump or two?”

“Celestia’s left buttcheek I’m too drunk for this,” Moondancer said.

“Oh man, you guys are drunk?” Trevor asked. “Shit’s a bad trip in this place, lemme tell you.”

“BeLIEVE me you don’t need to,” The Other One said. “I think I can smell my brain cooking.

“You guys need coffee!” Trevor said. “Voynich Coffee’ll sober you right up. It’s the good stuff. I got an espresso machine in the back. Follow me!”

He lifted up, and it became evident he did not require his forelegs to support himself. Instead, the wheels at the back of his tail spun to life and propelled him forward at a surpringly hearty pace, accompanied by a soft whirring noise.

Three mares followed after him, but Moondancer stayed behind, rubbing her eyes. “What the fuck,” she said. She looked up, and looked around, and suddenly realized a face that she had forgotten. She stared for a long moment, into the eyes of the gangly humanoid, blinking. “Shit!” she said. “Books!”

She suddenly leapt up, leaving behind the befuddling thing. Which was fair, because it was quite befuddled as well. Not because of her, but more generally to do with life as a whole. The life of a royal steward had not been at all what it had been expecting. There was a great deal more women and strange haircuts, and frankly the whole ordeal had always smelled vaguely of sausage.

Returning to Moondancer, a bit of brisk exercise had brought back some semblance of sobriety--a mild semblance, but enough that she was no longer forgetting things every few moments. Most things, anyways. She skidded behind the group, who had taken seats in what appeared to be some kind of great bath and antechamber in one, while Trevor worked on the side of the room, mashing up strange plants and tethering an obstinate root to the counter so it didn’t escape.

“Books!” Moondancer declared boldly.

“Yes Moondancer,” The Other One said. “Books. Well done.”

“Please shut up!” Moondancer said.

Lyra gasped happily. “You said please!” she said. “Without being asked!”

“Truly, the magic-est of words,” Minuette said solemnly.

Moondancer turned sharply to Trevor. “You’re supposed to help us stop getting sucked into books!” she declared.

Trevor blinked. “Am I?” he asked. “Man I like, remember signing up for something, but I thought it was like an O and O campaign or something. Getting out of books, that sounds dope.” He paused. “Except that reading is dope.”

“No but like, we’re literally inside a book right now,” Moondancer said. “In a Bookstore.

“Nah man, this is a beanarium,” Trevor said. “You can tell by all the beans.”

“Okay, but the beanarium is in--”

“A city,” Trevor said. His normally stunned expression hardened suddenly, and he began to wave a spoon threateningly at Moondancer. “Don’t try this shit on me, I know when someone is trying to steer a trip. I’m too far down for any of that. Also, it’s major not cool. Let me enjoy the last of the buzz, man.”

“He’s right,” Lyra said. “Steering a trip in a bad direction is a bad time. Bad friend thing.”

“No, we’re actually in a fuckin,” Moondancer said, but stopped. She turned to Lyra. “How do you know that?” she asked.

“I went to college!” Lyra said defensively.

“You have a kid!” Moondancer cried.

“I didn’t in college!” Lyra said.

Minuette blinked hard enough to make a noise. “But what if like, every world is a book to someone else, or like, a childrens cartoon, and what if this conversation reads as deeply trite to somebody because the implicit recognition that characters exist inside of media is beginner’s meta-commentary and stopped being funny or subversive decades ago?”

All three girls stared at Minuette. Trevor punched the root in the face when it tried to bite him, then wrung it out into four cups, and turned to stare at Minuette as well.

“Fuck me, I barely understand what you’re saying when we’re both sober,” The Other One said.

“Nah, I get it though!” Trevor said. “Like, what we understand as ‘media’ is just another level of reality. You’re not actually going into books, just visiting other facets of the gem we call reality.”

“That’s stupid and trite and the subject of about thirty shitty sci-fi movies,” Moondancer said.

“Yeah but Doland Trunk is president, so reality is pretty trite and stupid,” Trevor said, putting the cups of coffee down on the table.

Moondancer couldn’t argue with that. Also, she didn’t want to. She picked up her cup, swirling it around and peering inside. It certainly looked like coffee. Green coffee, but there was something distinctly coffee-esque about it nonetheless.

“Anyways,” she said. “That… thing, back in the place where we met you, said that you could help us stop whatever it is we’re doing with the jumping in and out of books.

“Wow, really?” Trevor asked. “That’s really nice of him! Usually he hates me.”

“Is he your dad?” Lyra asked.

“Nah,” Trevor said. “My dad is like… some dude. Big and claws and stuff. His name’s Steve actually, he’s cool. Except he hates me. But like, he hates most people. And he might be satan actually?” Trevor shrugged. “Anyways, the little guy is like a butler or something. I’m studying Dimensional Communications and Connections, so like, I’m busy a lot and he picks up after me. He’s dope. Literally. His breath is a hallucinogen.”

“That’s weird,” The Other One said.

“There’s a lot of fucking weird shit here, man!” Trevor said.

The group looked around. A squat, pear-shaped woman waddled into the room and fell face-first into the pool of green ooze, not bothering to get undressed first.

“I’d like to go, I think,” The Other One said curtly.

“Yeah,” Moondancer agreed.

“Sweet,” Trevor said. “We can go anytime.”

He reached beneath the table, and there was a series or hard, wet, meaty POP sounds. Then he reached up again, revealing a hand full of beads--which looked suspiciously like the ones encrusting his tail.

Moondancer stared at the beads. “Whaaaaaaaaat are those for?” she asked.

Trevor waved a hand vaguely. “They’re like, dimension juice or something,” he said. “They can be used as power for interdimensional travel. Just think real hard about your dimension.”

“That doesn’t sound… too baaOHMYGODWHY!” Moondancer said, as Trevor dropped a bead into her coffee. “What the fuck.”

Trevor went around the table, dropping the beads into everyone’s coffee. “Dimension juice!” he declared. “Got drink it! Or snort it, but drinking is funner. Trust me.”

Moondancer and The Other One began to object, but Lyra gave a great cry of “Bottoms up!” and knocked back her cup in a single gulp. Minuette drained her cup as well, and finally Moondancer and The Other One were left staring at one another across the table.

“Fuck it,” The Other One said. “Can’t be any worse than anything else that’s happened today.”

Moondancer nodded sympathetically. She lifted her cup in a toast. “To… bed,” she said.

“Fuck,” The Other One agreed, toasting as well. As one, the girls drank deeply from their cups.

Moondancer almost choked as she swallowed the bead, but managed to force it down. She hacked and spluttered for a moment, slamming her chest. “Christ, dimension juice tastes like whiskey,” she said, blinking hard.

She paused, and adjusted her glasses, before blinking again. The Beanarium had disappeared, along with the table, chairs, bather, and even the mugs of coffee. They were back in the book shop, seated cross-legged on the floor. Except for Trevor, who was laying on his back.

“We’re back?” Moondancer said. “We’re back!”

“Fuckin’ sick!” Lyra said. “Luck of the Lyrish’n shit!”

“Wait,” Trevor said. “There’s too many straight lines here. Did you say the dimension juice tasted like whiskey?”

“Yeah,” Moondancer said. “Like… Glenfiddich or some other Passlander oh fuck me, Lyra?”

Lyra laughed, tucking away a flask into her man. “You can’t have coffee without a little bit of Lyrish!” she said.

“We were trying to get sober!” Moondancer said. “It completely defeats the… wow.” She blinked hard. The whiskey hit her like a stone between the eyes, blossoming suddenly into a headful of cotton. “That’s good shit.”

“Should be, I spent eighty bits on the bottle,” Lyra said.

“Eighty bits?” The Other One asked. “You know you can buy bear for like two bits a can, right?”

“Yeah, if you’re a redneck!” Lyra declared. “Just ask Trevor, I bet he knows his shit. Yo Trevor--oh shit, it’s Trevor.”

Moondancer blinked. The Other Other One blinked as well. Minuette sniffed loudly and picked a book up off the floor. “Gotta clean up,” she said, seriously.

“What are you doing here, Trevor?” Moondancer asked.

“You put whiskey in the coffee?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah,” Lyra said. “Did I do a thing?”

Trevor rubbed his neck. “I, ah. Eeeeeeeeeeh.” He shifted his jaw back and forth. “Just like. Don’t touch any books for uh… five years maybe?”

Moondancer lunged, wrapping her hooves around Trevor’s throat. “Fix it!” she demanded. “Fix it! Books! Fix books!”

“Okay!” Trevor said. “Chill, man! The Whiskey bound the juice, you’re gonna be fine! You’re gonna get an interdeminsional hangover. You’ll see a dude watching a dude talking about you. It’s gonna be fucking weird, but you’ll be fine. Just like… the juice is still running and it’s gonna keep on running for a while, so just… don’t touch anything that’s associated with another universe.”

“Like books,” Moondancer said.

“Yeah,” Trevor said.

“For five years,” Moondancer said.

“Well like,” Trevor said, vaguely. “I dunno, how long do you get drunk?”

“A few hours,” Lyra said.

“Okay, so that’s not so bad,” Trevor said.

“Fix books faster!” Moondancer screamed, throttling him harder.

Trevor screamed back, choking and gagging, but Lyra and The Other One managed to pull Moondancer off of him.

“Fuck me, fine!” Trevor said. “I’ll make some more coffee, you’ll sober up faster, it’ll be chill. Just be chill.”

“Moondancer, be chill,” Lyra said. “It’s just a couple hours. You can avoid touching a book for a couple hours.”

Just then, Minuette trotted back up to the shelf, carrying a copy of Frankenstein. “Does this go in Science fiction or Fantasy?” she asked.

“Shit!” The Other One swore.

“That’s not fair, Marey Shelly is a really good writer,” Minuette said.

There was the sensation of the world dragging sideways, and then backwards, and then lurching forward, like an amusement park ride that might be exciting but also might just be unstable, and the world went dark. Then it went quite bright, and then it went quite french.

Well, moderately french, at least, and a little bit german. You could tell because of all the chocolate and money and cowardice. The four ponies, and the Voynich, tumbled through the air in a loose tangle of screams, swearwords, and lost alcohol, before crashing to earth in a mound of snow.

Well, Moondancer landed in a mound of snow. The other ponies landed in a mound of Moondancer.

“Whose elbow is that?” Moondancer demanded, squirming violently beneath a sharp point.

“Sorry,” Lyra said. “Who’s hoof is that?”

“The Other One’s,” said Minuette.

“Suck on it, Minuette,” said The Other One. “Whose wheel is that?”

There was a moment of silence, and The Other One sighed. “Roll, you weird fat bastard,” she said.

One by one the pile of ponies--and Voynich--untangled itself, rising on shaky legs to look around.

They were on a mountain of some description, that description being desolate, romantic, and probably at least a little symbolic. There was a distinctly byronic air about the clearing in which they had found themselves, with its little wooden hut and its thick border of thrush.

Trevor curled up tightly. “Jeeze, man,” he said. “Dimension juicing without coffee is like sniffing the butler’s breath. I think I can see the face of my mother!” He looked up, with bloodshot eyes. “Voynich’s don’t have mothers, man! We spore!”

Lyra trotted cheerfully over to Trevor, and slapped him. “Get ahold of yourself!” she said. “You got us out of one pickle, you can get us out of another. As long as nothing sudden and dramatic happens to create a high amount of tension for a period of like--”

“If I’m not allowed to do it you’re not allowed to do it!” Minuette said sharply.

Lyra paused in her sentence, and frowned. “Fine!” she said. “I guess. Anyways, the point is you can get us back out easily, right?”

“As long as nobody spikes the coffee this time!” Moondancer said.

Minuette huffed. “I won’t!” she said defensively.

“She was talking to Lyra,” The Other One grunted.

“Oh, Minuette said. “She won’t either!”

“Yeah,” Lyra said. She giggled and hugged Minuette. “Minuette’s got my back! Because she knows I--”

“Because I know I drank her stash!” Minuette said.

“What!?” Lyra cried. “How--When--”

“Cleaning is thirsty work!” Minuette declared.

“Kicking your ass is gonna be thirsty work, that was eighty-dollar whiskey!” Lyra shouted. “I should--”

“Duck!” The Other One cried, jumping on both of them and dragging them to the earth. Moments later the brush exploded, giving way to an enormous form: Half again as tall as any stallion and as broad across as two. He might have been beautiful, had it not been for his tomb-dry skin and his terrible, yellow, watery eyes.

Even then, he might have been more beautiful had he not been in the company of four lesbians and a Voynich.

The demon turned back and bellowed, “I expected this reception! All stallions hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom they art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us! You purpose to kill me?”

“Look out!” Minuette cried. “A monster!”

Trevor rubbed his bleary eyes, and blinked at the creature. “Fuckin’ sick,” he said.

It made a gesture of beckoning, almost of challenge, and then turned once more, fleeing into the woods.

The Other One got up

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

I'm just going to assume that this is what actually happens in the Voynich Manuscript.

[Meta Four]

8910656
The description of the Vonyich spa reminds me of the scholarly interpretation that the Manuscript is a text on women’s health. I only heard about it last year, when a hoaxer claimed they’d decoded the Manuscript, but apparently that’s been a common interpretation for a while. Not sure if that’s what Kegisak was going for, though.

[MidnightFMare]

“But what if like, every world is a book to someone else, or like, a childrens cartoon, and what if this conversation reads as deeply trite to somebody because the implicit recognition that characters exist inside of media is beginner’s meta-commentary and stopped being funny or subversive decades ago?”

“Like, what we understand as ‘media’ is just another level of reality. You’re not actually going into books, just visiting other facets of the gem we call reality.”

The story of my whole grasp on reality and How I recognize causality and literature.

Leviathan, basically.