31: Wild Cyndaquil Appeared [Crossover with non-canon story]
[Perspective: Asylum]
I gasped, sitting up quickly in bed and panting heavily. My eyes darted around the room, making sure everything was safe before I relaxed. I had just had a horrible dream about the Rancid Windigoes coming back, and now I was in a cold sweat.
It was still late at night, and False was fast asleep in the bed beside mine. I put my head back on my pillow to get back to sleep, but I couldn't nod off again. Now that my brain was fully active once more, it was going crazy.
Memories of Arrell yelling at Risk and False flooded my mind. I had heard it all happen, even from downstairs, and it took all my willpower to not go up myself. Surprisingly, neither Risk nor False seemed too upset with Arrell. They brushed it off as Arrell being stressed and tired, though False also admitted that maybe "he was right". She didn't explain much more, choosing to quietly mull over something in her mind until we went to bed.
I sighed and flopped onto my other side in bed. Now I definitely couldn't get back to sleep. I wasn't even tired anymore, and there were still several hours until daylight.
chink
I sat up quickly again, looking around. The noise repeated itself a few times and appeared to be coming from outside. It sounded like small amounts of glass being broken. I trotted to the window and looked outside.
A short distance from the house, Arrell was sitting in the snow, doing something with a block of ice. He seemed to be chipping off little pieces of it, then taking the small pieces and carving them into shapes.
Curious, I quietly trotted out of the room and made my way out of the house, grabbing a scarf on the way to keep warm. The weather was calm, but it was still cold, and I didn't have the immunity to low temperatures like Arrell did. Walking around the back of the house, I made my way to the Windigo.
I watched silently, as he hadn't noticed me yet. He had seven small pieces of ice now, formed into odd shapes – squares, lines, Z-formations, and more. He carefully placed them on a cloth beside him and turned his attention to the block of ice he had been chipping the pieces off of.
Using his hoof and his ice magic at the same time, he broke a small slab off the large block, pushing the rest to the side. He started hollowing out the slab; a process that took a rather long time. He glanced at his watch occasionally, but I was too far away to see what time it was. It must have taken at least half an hour, but I barely noticed the time go by.
Eventually, apparently satisfied, Arrell pushed the slab back a bit and looked at it. He had hollowed it out, leaving a large hole in the top. It was now more of a thin box. Reaching for the cloth, he lifted the seven small pieces and carefully placed them inside the box, one at a time.
When that was done, he pulled out a familiar gem. The Fine Rock. He must have taken it from Risk when he was asleep. Channeling its magic, the Windigo cast a few spells on the box, then reached over and pulled back the remains of the ice block he had used earlier. He broke off a piece of it and attached it to the front of his hollowed-out box, then took more small pieces from the block and stuck them on the front. It was like he was assembling a remote out of ice attached to the box, but it only had a few buttons. Well, if they could be called buttons, being nothing but chunks of ice.
Finally, Arrell cast another few spells with the Fine Rock, placing it on the cloth when he was done. He pressed his hoof down on one of the "buttons", and amazingly, it appeared to do something.
From the top of the hollow box, one of the pieces he created earlier began slowly descending towards the bottom. Using his hooves, he pressed down on the other buttons, and the piece began moving differently. It moved side to side, even rotating. After a second, he pressed one last button, and the piece instantly dropped to the bottom, staying perfectly in place.
Another piece began its slow descent from the top, and he repeated this process for it and several more. The pieces seemed to be infinite, despite him only making seven earlier. Whenever he created a full line of pieces on the bottom, they disappeared, and the pieces above dropped down to fill the gap. It seemed to be a game of some sort.
He played for who knows how long. I stood there, watching in awe. After every few lines he got rid of, the pieces would speed up, eventually so fast he barely had time to move or rotate them into place. Finally, it got too fast for him, and the pieces ended up stacking all the way to the top of the box. They stopped coming and he sighed in irritation. Pressing a button, all the pieces disappeared, and he began again.
"What is that?" I finally asked, almost not realizing the words were coming out of my mouth. Arrell jumped, startled, and turned to me. He took a second to press a button, stopping the piece in the middle of its fall, before answering.
"It's an old human game," he explained, voice sounding a little weak. "It's called Tetris. I played it all the time back on Earth."
I trotted up to him and looked at the icy creation. "It's...made of ice."
"Have to work with what I've got. The human version is done on televisions or computers or what have you. This is the closest I can get."
"How do you make it work like that, though? You only made a few pieces..."
He shrugged. "Magic. Plus, I'm tired. When I'm tired, I don't really notice what I'm doing. I just think about doing something, control my body, and it somehow gets done. Assuming I don't fall asleep halfway through, of course." He chuckled a bit at that.
I laughed as well. "Speaking of sleep, you should probably-"
"Can't. Insomnia's acting up again." He nudged the box. "I usually play Tetris whenever I can't sleep, so that's what I'm doing."
"You need to recover, though. You've only been sick for one day. You won't be perfectly fine that quickly without sleep."
"I'll get some sleep. I'll just do it in the daytime. Not like I'd be leaving the house anyway, unless you get kidnapped again." He smirked.
I sighed, but playfully. "You know, I never really thanked you for that," I pointed out.
"And rightfully so. ...or rightfully not? Which one's grammatically correct in this situation...?" He stared off into space for a second, then regained his focus. "Anyway, I just did what anypony would've done. You don't thank somepony for breathing, because everypony does that."
"But not anypony would've done what you did," I protested. "You followed a hunch that only you had, did things only you could do, and saved all of Equestria because of it. There's a difference between things everypony wants to do, and things everypony can do."
He didn't answer at first, instead just looking down at his hooves for a moment. Then he looked back at me. "I really wish I didn't have to, though...I know they were Windigoes – and not the good kind, like me – but still. Killing them felt wrong, especially the way I did it. I just...exploded, almost literally. I didn't even know what I was doing. All I could think was 'kill them, kill them, kill them'."
"You did what you had to do," I tried to comfort him. "Besides, you can't change the past. But the present is going to become the past eventually, and you can change that."
He smiled a bit. "I guess so."
"Come on. You need sleep."
Sighing, he turned to his Tetris box and pressed a button. The piece on it vanished, and he picked the box up. "Let's head inside then."
"Won't that melt? It's made of ice."
"Enchanted ice. It's as strong as metal now, and not nearly as heavy." He laughed, gathering the cloth and Fine Rock. "I love magic."
[Perspective: Arrell]
This city...sucks.
That was the only thing I could think upon looking around at Stalliongrad. I lived my whole life in a small, clean town in Canada, and Stalliongrad was pretty much the exact opposite of that. Dirty, crowded, noisy, and way too big for my liking.
Several days had passed since my rampage against the Rancid Windigoes. I spent my days sleeping, and my nights either playing Tetris or talking with the others. Sometimes both. Surprisingly, neither Risk nor False held any ill will against me, though False did seem a bit more distant and less vocal.
As we walked together through the dirty city, I sighed. I hope whoever I’m supposed to meet here shows up soon. I don’t like this place one bit.
Suddenly, a scream pierced my ears, and my train of thought went crashing off the rails. I looked around for the source of the sound, which appeared to be getting progressively louder.
I then heard a great crash as something flew over my head into the wall to my right, followed by an annoyed groan coming from the projectile.
“I said a CATAPULT, not a ballista! Catapults lob things you stupid-” the voice paused for a second, “-thing!”
It was then that I got a good look at the creature. Small, yellow belly, eyes closed...my brain jumped to a realization.
“Oh dear Celestia, a Cyndaquil!” I (embarrassingly) squealed. Before it could even pick itself up off the ground, I had done that for it, dashing over and grabbing it in a tight hug.
“Yay! Hugs!” the Cyndaquil said, hugging me back.
Wait a second...Pokemon don’t talk. I dropped the Fire-type unceremoniously, staring at it in confusion. “You talk?”
“Of course I talk,” the Pokemon said with an obviously false posh accent. “What self-respecting literate individual would not be able to talk?”
I just blinked. “...you know, after what’s happened in the past month, I really shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore, but...still...a talking Cyndaquil.”
“Yes,” It replied calmly.
I heard the others catch up to me, but didn’t react. I was too busy trying to put my fractured mind back together. The Cyndaquil, however, regarded my friends with interest.
“You must be ponies,” it said.
All four of them facehoofed. I laughed. “Congratulations, you’re the only living creature aside from myself to make Nimble facehoof.”
“I take great pride in my ability to make others see me as...” it trailed off. “I’m not sure how to finish that sentence.”
“A troll?”
“No, not a troll. More like a...” it trailed off again. “By a troll, do you mean a large creature that wields a club, or a giant buttface that insults people on the internet?”
“More of the second...wait. You know what the internet is?” I stared with newfound curiosity.
"Know of it? I practically lived in it!” it replied. “Not really though. Although it would be really cool if I did."
False looked between myself and the Cyndaquil. “Okay, seriously, what the buck is going on?” she demanded.
“I have no idea...yet at the same time, I do,” I replied.
“I just don’t,” the Pokemon said.
“Maybe we should go somewhere that isn’t right in the middle of the street,” Risk suggested. “We’re starting to catch some stares.”
“If you are anywhere within a mile of me, that’s pretty much a constant guarantee,” the Cyndaquil said, examining its front legs. “Hey! That rhymes!”
I blinked again. “...I honestly can’t think of any response to that. Any.” I shook my head. “Let’s just go somewhere more private. I hate eavesdroppers.”
“But private’s boooring!” the Fire-type stated in a whiny tone.
I sighed, slowly getting annoyed. “Buddy, I just got out of early stages of Windigo evolution. I want boring.”
“Evolution, you say?” the Pokemon inquired, making one eye slightly higher on its face than the other. It reminded me of how people would raise an eyebrow when I said something weird.
“...not Pokemon evolution. Just...oh for Celestia’s sake, can we just go somewhere else?” I finally gave in to my primary instincts and facehoofed.
“Fine. I have no problem with that. Not like it’s boring or anything,” the mouse-like creature replied calmly.
“Good. False, you’ve been here before. Know of any not-so-public places?”
“It’s Stalliongrad,” she replied, annoyance in her tone. “The best you can get aside from home is a bar.”
“Close enough.”
“Can I get a beer even though I’m underage?” the Pokemon inquired.
My reply was quick and firm. “No. The last thing I need is a drunk Fire-type.”
“I think you mean first,” it replied.
“If I had a death wish, yes.” I left it at that and motioned for False to lead, following behind her.
“Do you have a death wish?” it asked innocently.
I didn’t answer. I just shot it a glare that rivalled the stare of a ReDead and kept walking.
“Hey!” I heard it say, trying to catch my attention.
I turned back to it, my left eye twitching slightly. Now I know how False feels...
“Leer,” it said simply, it’s eyes opening and glowing red.
I felt like every fear I’d ever had was pushed to the surface of my brain. My heart began to race, my thoughts sped by too quickly to catch, and I stopped walking. All I did was stare back.
But thanks to my blank white eyes and ‘stepford smiler’ personality, to everypony else, we were just having a staring contest. A few moments passed before I turned away, shaking my head, but by no means unaffected.
“It has little effect,” the creature muttered.
We walked along in silence after that, eventually coming to a bar that False seemed familiar with. It was rather noisy inside, causing my ears to flatten. I never did like noisy or crowded places.
The Pokemon, however, immediately rushed to the bar before I could stop him – acting on my hunch that it was a him, at any rate. He called for the bartender. “Vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred,” he said before I pulled him back with a sigh.
“Ignore him,” I called back to the bartender, who rolled his eyes and walked away. I was a bit surprised he didn’t question two strange creatures being in his bar, but ignored it. I turned to the Cyndaquil. “I wasn’t kidding when I said no alcohol. Not yet, at least. Once we figure out exactly what’s going on, then you can drink all you want.”
“Letting an adolescent have alcohol?” he replied, peeved. “For shame!”
“I’m only sixteen myself, and personally, I couldn’t give a damn if I tried.” I chuckled a bit, taking a second to gaze around the establishment. “Besides, you’d probably get a drink as soon as I looked away anyway.”
As I looked back, the Pokemon wasn’t there anymore. I sighed, and I heard Risk hold back a laugh.
“Okay, I’m pretty sure there’s no doubt. He’s a human. A weird human, but a human nonetheless.” I sat down at a table. “Somepony go make sure he doesn’t burn the place down.”
Nimble walked off to find the Fire-type, leaving me with Risk, False, and Asylum. Risk and Asylum sat down across from me and beside me respectively, while False stayed standing.
“Mind telling us exactly what a Send-a-quill is?” Risk asked.
“Cyndaquil, Risk. Cyndaquil. And to make a long story short, a Cyndaquil is a porcupine, but instead of needles it has fire. And it can breathe fire and do a bunch of other things involving fire.” I shrugged. “You see the problem yet?”
They all winced a bit, realizing where I was going with this. Asylum moved closer to me. “Shouldn’t we get away from him then?” False asked.
“No. He’s not particularly hostile towards us. He’s not even a ticking time bomb like I am; more of a deactivated one that can turn back on if the right buttons are pushed.” I shrugged again. “Besides, with the way he acts, do you really think he’d try to hurt us? And if he did, do you really think he’d succeed?”
I saw something out of the corner of my eye and turned. Nimble was currently working on dragging the Cyndaquil back over to where the rest of us were seated, said creature mewling pitifully. From the looks of things, he had just been denied alcohol once again. I laughed quietly. The Cyndaquil squeaked as it was thrown onto the table.
“Welcome back,” I greeted nonchalantly. “Gonna focus less on drinking and more on talking this time?”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting any of you to chase after me. I had a nice comeback and everything,” it said grumpily, moving onto a chair. “I am disappoint.”
“Speaking of ‘I am’, care to tell us your name? We still haven’t gotten to that point yet,” I stated.
“Clever segue,” he replied. “I am Cinder, bane of Timberwolves everywhere! Also their friend! I told them my name was The Bane.”
“...Cinder? That all you got? You are not very original.”
“I was rushed for time!” he replied, clearly offended.
“So was I, and at least I got something that wasn’t practically the name of my species. I’m Arrell, on that topic. Arrell Ragnarok, the Master Chief of Equestria.”
“I will call you ArrelCorn. Now who are your companions?” he replied.
...ArrelCorn? I don’t get it. “The guy who dragged you back here is Nimble Night. He’s a ninja.”
Nimble silently nodded.
“The brown unicorn over there is Risk Reward. He’s...well, there’s not a lot to say about him, really.”
Risk raised an eyebrow. “Should I be offended?”
“...no. The pink earth pony is False Front. She’s a Royal Guard and pretty uptight. Don’t annoy her.”
“I am disappoint ArrelCorn,” Cinder said. “You are the only one so far without an alliterative name.”
“Just to prove you wrong there, the light yellow pegasus next to me is Asylum. She’s kind of the medic of the team.” The mare in question nodded and smiled.
“Oh, but you didn’t prove me wrong,” he said with a sneaky smirk. “Notice I said ‘so far’ in my statement. Your argument is therefore invalid. Victory to the Pokemon!”
“OBJECTION!” I slammed my front hooves on the table. “Your name is not alliterative, and you were introduced before that statement was made. Therefore, you proved yourself wrong!”
“AHAH!” Cinder cried. “That is where you’re wrong! I never told you my last name!”
“Assuming you have one and won’t just make something up, that won’t work anyway, because you didn’t say your last name during introductions. Therefore, you didn’t play fair.”
“Fair is for the weak. As is sanity. Now, for my point. My last name is...” He stopped to think for a moment. “Carboniferous! Therefore, I win! Unless you prove some false point true. But there is no way that you can possibly win this time, Phoenix WRONG!” He laughed maniacally.
I smirked. “Cinder, it’s pretty obvious that you’re a human turned into a Cyndaquil. I highly doubt a human would be named Cinder Carbon...whatever you said. So both your names are made up, and so do not count.”
Cinder sighed, slumping down. “Okay, you win,” he said, shrugging. “Now what?”
“...you gave up rather easily.”
“Being bipolar is kinda my thing,” he replied calmly.
“That’s my thing, though! ...ah, whatever. You do raise a good question, though...now what?”
“Well, I was thinking we could go swimming! That ended real well the first time!” he suggested brightly. “Hashtag sarcasm.”
I laughed. “Yeah, even I can tell that wouldn’t go well.” Suddenly, a thought struck me. “Hey, Cinder...why are you in Stalliongrad anyway?”
“Well, for starters, Ungy made me, but also bec-”
“Wait wait wait. Ungy? Who the hell is Ungy?” I asked, cutting him off. Arrell used Interrupt! It’s super effective!
“He’s the god that sent me here. Ungehorsam, means disobedience in German,” he clarified.
I scratched my chin. “Huh...never heard of that particular god before. Styx sent me here. Goddess of hatred. Guess that explains why I’m a Windigo. Anyway, you were saying?”
“He told me to go here,” he explained. “So I went. It’s that simple.”
“Now,” a new voice said from behind Cinder. “About that earlier comment. Care to clarify?”
I leaned to look around Cinder and see who was talking. A tan pegasus pony with a brown mane and tail was staring intently at us. Me, in particular.
“Mind not eavesdropping?” I snapped at him.
“Mind showing some respect?” he replied, sitting down next to Cinder, his eyes flashing red.
“I don’t show respect until it’s deserved. All you’ve done is listen in on our conversation, so you haven’t really deserved anything but a punch in the face yet. Who are you?”
Cinder winced and looked back at the pony. He looked uncomfortable. “This...is the aforementioned god...” he said slowly. “Is there a ‘no killing’ rule in this bar?”
I raised an eyebrow, admittedly surprised. “God? That changes things. A little. I’m not gonna drop to the floor and beg for forgiveness, if that’s what you’re waiting for, but I’ll let your eavesdropping slide. That’s the best you’ll get from me.”
“I suggest you answer his question,” the god rumbled, eyes flashing red again. "Because I just love breaking rules."
“In that case, here’s a rule: you’re allowed to try and kill me.” I love loophole abuse.
The pegasus faded into red light. Cinder let out a breath.
“You. Are. So. Stupid!” he cried. “Don’t piss off Ungy like that! I did, and he almost leveled the Everfree Forest!”
I turned my glare, previously aimed at ‘Ungy’, onto the Fire-type. “Better advice: don’t piss me off. Some ponies did, and I collapsed an entire castle just by waking up.”
“Your face is a banana,” he said quickly.
I had no response. Sarcasm mechanisms...malfunctioning... My eye twitched.
“Are you mad? Because I learned Ember when I fought that manticore! I bet I could do something!” he said with a cocky grin on his face.
As soon as the words left his mouth, the others reacted. Risk’s horn lit up, False pulled out her sword, Nimble jumped behind him to prevent an escape, and Asylum took to flying directly over him. He was surrounded on all sides.
“Oooooh, protective, very nice. Now, if I wasn’t joking around and we were in direct sunlight, then I might actually stand a chance. But I’m not. So let’s just...uh...NOT kill each other?” he suggested, his grin still in place.
“My body count is over three hundred and I’ve been in Equestria for about a month. One more won’t make much of a difference to me,” I told him darkly. Inside, I was screaming at myself for using deaths I didn’t even want as a threat, but I shut the inside voices up. My anger was slowly resurfacing.
His smile just got bigger. “You know, you aren’t the only one with protective companions. And mine isn’t on good terms with you right now. Also, he’s a god. So yeah.” He grinned at me happily. “Good luck if you try anything.” Red lights began surrounding Cinder, spinning around him in a furious orbit.
I smirked. “Yeah...you look so intimidating right about now.”
Cinder started laughing his head off right about then, falling off of the chair. “Oh the look on all of your faces!” he cried in between breaths. “Priceless!”
We smirked and glared...how was that priceless?
“Well that lightened the atmosphere a bit. Now we can talk without the looming fact that every pony, griffon, and other thing in this bar is staring at us. Now, I’m not a fan of collateral damage, but I see you don’t care. Let’s see what happens should you start something, hmm?” he said, tilting his head slightly.
I just sighed and slumped back in my seat, suddenly tired. “I did way too much fighting in the past week. If you were honestly trying to kill me, there’s a fifty-fifty chance I’d just let you do it.” I shook my head.
“Now now, let’s not get suicidal,” Ungy joined in, a pair of eyes forming in the red orbit around Cinder. “Then we won’t be able to kill you ourselves.”
I remembered something, surprised at having forgotten about it in the first place. “Hey, Ungy. Earlier, you asked me to clarify something, back when you first popped up and before we started bickering. What were you referring to?”
The god was silent for a few tense moments. “None of your business, pawn,” he snarled.
“...actually, it is, because it was a question you asked me before we got sidetracked. I’m just, you know, trying to answer it.”
The red orbit around Cinder intensified.
“Well, if you didn’t want me to answer, you shouldn’t have asked.”
I turned away, staring out the window, Cinder barely visible out of the corner of my eye. He was almost completely covered with a sphere of red.
“WRONG,” I head Ungy say, “MOVE”. The sheer rage in those words startled me, though I didn’t show it, choosing to just keep looking out the window.
The red sphere around Cinder dispersed suddenly. In his stead was another Cyndaquil. But this one was different. His eyes were red; where there was green, there was purple. And he looked very, very pissed.
“I’mma let you finish,” I sighed, “but first, let me ask." I threw my hooves up. "WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!"
The Cyndaquil shrieked. “Fahr zur Hölle du Sohn einer Hündin!”
And then he attacked.
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Eh, I prefer minesweeper to Tetris, but to each his own.
Why do i have a strange urge to post all my naughies of ponies into this coment box right now?
2137829 Tetris is one of my favourite games and the game I am arguably best at. Though that's not saying much.
I am really good at chess
what does that say about me
Travel to hell, you son of a bitch?
I do GCSE German, so yeah.
2149269 Thank you!
I personally don't see much that's interesting in my writing style, aside from no spelling or grammar errors (I'm practically a living spellcheck) and a running theme of pointing out and ragging on any cliches or overused story elements if my own story uses or alludes to them. Though that last one's more a product of my constant snarkiness. 
2148956 I fell back on fannon while reading fannon. What a delicious concept. Besides, if there are any true facts about a kids show, link it for me. I went off observation because trying to grasp everything in factual terms that our world abides by and trying to make sense of it in comparison of the shows differential features such as pinkie floating, expanding, talking to viewer, magic, raising and lowering of sun and moon and others facts that only their world operates on would lead me nowhere. Thus, I use the only two senses that can be used when observing their world (a kids show) known as the Sight and Hearing ability. No accurate conclusions can be drawn solely from these observational skills unless statistics are either said by anything obtaining the ability of speech and/or shown to the viewer in any form. Of course statistics are only legitimate if they are proposed within the show itself as hinted towards in the previous sentence. All information provided by the HUB network itself or of any of the shows staff must correlate directly to the show itself, as hinted towards in the previous sentence. If I have however, overlooked any of these observations in the show itself- contact me. If I am wrong about any of these statements- sowwy. If you wish to troll at any time during our discussion- lick me.
Side Note: All observations in my other statement a week and a day ago are solely mine. I am human and can make mistakes but those are my observations using inaccurate means of collecting data. In other terms I watch the show more for its morals than its 'realism'.
2150034>>2148956 If you two are honestly going to argue over the male-to-female ratio of ponies in Equestria because of a one-off joke I made in a chapter of this story, then I fear for the future of FIMFiction. Please stop.
2151576 I commented about the story, which is pretty good btw, and he didn't like my comment and I shot him down. I will stop if that is that you wish. Know however, I did not go after anyone's idea. If there is anymore interaction of the user I will take it up with a private message.
Um... do you actually speak German? Cause "Hündin" means female dog. I'm not sure if you meant it like that, but I wouldn't see the point...
I know a female dog is called a bitch, but obviously that's not what you mean when you say "son of a bitch". That would refer to a woman and not the dog. The bitch (woman) would be referred to, in this case, as a "Hure".
The right way to say it would be:
"Fahr zur Hölle du Hurensohn!"
Like I said, no idea if you intentionally put it there. Couldn't help but point it out though.
Loving the story by the way!
3118245 lol correct