• Published 14th Jan 2019
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The World is my Sandbox - PoniesMine

A human buys a planet called “Harmony” and decides to mess around with the natives. What could possibly go wrong when he provides weapons never even thought to exist?

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Chapter Four: Gathering Information Part 2

When I first walked into the establishment, I thought I walked into a room entirely painted by a toddler, this many colours simply can’t exist on one canvas.

Apparently, it can exist in 3D form though, in the shape of a room filled with a few hundred technicolour ponies.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I was in a matrix.

Everyone seemed to be inside their own little conversation, they mostly took note of me by giving me a slight nod, or wave.

A large table occupies the centre, holding various party foods and drinks, including a huge cake. At the back was a counter where I would assume people would buy their cakes if this place was open.

The pink mare located in the back left-hand corner of the room waved me over, I trudged my way next to her.

Five other mares surround Pinkie and myself, one I recognise as Twilight.

This has the potential to become awkward.

The very left is a white coated unicorn, with a purple curled mane, she seems like the stereotypical woman.

Next to the right is a yellow coated and pink mane pegasus, hiding half her face behind her hair. Must be antisocial.

After that is—HOLY SHIT! FUCKING RAINBOW HAIR? I didn’t know the United Gay Party’s (UGP) symbol would be on a fucking horse! She also has a cyan coat and wings. Red bull must really give you wings!

Next is an orange earth pony with yellow hair. A country hat located on her noggin.

Last is Twilight Sparkle herself, she seems to be giving me a suspicious look. Couldn’t blame her honestly.

Pinkie began to inform me each of their names, going from left to right, “This is Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Twilight!”

They all greeted at their respective names.
“Hello darling”

She then moved onto me, “And this is Atomic!”

How did she know my *made up* name?

“Hey,” I nodded while waving my right forehoof.

“I must say, darling, those clothes you're wearing are just simply dashing! Where ever did you get them?” Rarity asked after a few seconds silence.

Yep, definitely, the women stereotype.

“I ahhh, made them,” I replied. I don’t know any companies or businesses so I may as well go for the easiest option.

“Really??! I’m a fashion designer myself! We must catch up some time!”

“Umm, sure,”

“Ah was wondering where you're from, Ah don’t recognise your accent from anywhere.” The orange mare known as Applejack asked.

“That’s because I’m a traveller, I travel destination to destination, uncovering secrets of our past. My parents were the same, they dragged me wherever they went. At the moment, I’m looking to settle down to one location.” I responded.

Making up stories is a piece of cake!

All of them acknowledgedly nodded.

—Another Perspective—

Not so far away was Lyra, attempting to overhear the conversation.

“She even acts like a human!” she excitedly whispered to Bonny.

Bon Bon simply sighed,….

“I really need a drink,” she mumbled to herself and began a journey to the liquor table.

Jack Atomic--

Twilight opened her mouth to ask a question, “What’s that metal stick poking from your saddle bag? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I knew that would come eventually.

“It’s a weapon,” I simply replied.

Fluttershy seemed to hide further behind Rarity, and slightly shake. Everyone else stood still with their jaws moderately unhinged.

Fluttershy was the first to break the silence, “W-weap-pon?” she fearfully asked.

“Yes, I need something to defend myself when out and about. You can’t expect me to be defenceless, now can you?”

They all simply nodded.

“So, how’s it work?” Twilight further enquired.

“I won’t go into details, but think of it as a crossbow, except it travels at 300 metres per second, practically disregarding any armour.” I professionally stated.

Rainbow Dash mumbled something incomprehensible, and several strains of hair popped from Twilight's mane.

“I even invented it myself.”

That seemed to be enough for the purple unicorn as her whole posture took on a psychopath facade. Hair was frizzling over her face, in addition to both her eyes twitching.

I think this is my time to leave.

“You know I’ll just go over,” I pointed over to a random direction, “there….”

As I walked to my new destination, Applejack whispered to me, “Good going sugarcube, best be out of her sight.”

I nodded thanks and continued on my way. That is until my eyes fell on the food table. Soft drinks, chips, pies, a bunch of disgusting green stuff, pizza, biscuits, and cupcakes.

That’s exactly what I need.

My lips were trembling, my favourite activity of the day is consuming after all.

I grab a cupcake with pink frosting and devoured it whole. Mmmmmmmm, strawberry. You have no idea how much I needed that.

While still chewing, I took hold of another one. May as well.

Halfway through my second cupcake, I hear a throat being cleared to my right. I switch my vision to the un-expecting newcomer.

An emerald green unicorn mare, with a complementing mane and tail in addition to a white streak greets me. What’s most surprising though, is that she’s wearing clothing. A simple daisy yellow dress, with a red band holding it in place around the waist. That confirms that they wear garments sometimes on special occasions.

“Hello,” she greeted.

“Guten tag,” I just couldn’t resist it.

For a split second, I noticed a hungry glint in her eyes, “You speak Germane?”

“No, I just know a few phrases,” I answered.

Huh, so they call German here Germane? Cool.

“My name is Lyra,” she said.

“Atomic,” I brought my right hoof up to achieve a classic shake.

She met me, and we both shook firmly a few times.

“I was wondering, why do you wear so much clothing?” Lyra enquired.

I knew this question would come eventually.

*Shrug* “I just do,”

She hummed to that.

“So, do you care about being naked in public?” She interrogated, eyes slightly narrowing at me.

Where is she going with this?

“O-of course not.” I shakily responded.

She smiled wickedly, “Then take your clothes off,” she sharply commanded.

Oh shit.

I began to lean backwards, my eyes commenced to random locations, searching for anything that could save me out of this complication. Then, a cream coated mare walks from the crowd directly towards me, could this be my saviour?

“Lyra! What do you think you're doing?!” she angrily shouted as she stomped over.

The weird stalker instantaneously dropped her current expression, into one of annoyance.

“You better not be asking if she’s a human!” she arrived and stood 90 degrees from myself and Lyra.

My face adopted one of horror. Did that lady just say what I think she said? How could they possibly know of humans??! The description of the planet CLEARLY stated that the status was non-contact!

“Pfffft, I would never do such a thing!” she defended, waving one of her hoofs in front of her.

I turned my full posture towards Lyra and deadpanned, “You asked me to take off my clothes.”

You are definitely going to be one of the first to die.

My saviour glared at her “LYRA! How could you?! That should only stay in the bedroom!”

She then turned to me, “I am truly sorry about my roommate here, she has this interesting obsession with a mythical species called a ‘human’.”

I embraced the sweet sugary goodness of relief. Thank God humans are imaginary here.

“Hey!” Lyra interrupted, “I take that personally!”

The cream mare spent a few seconds using her right forehoof to rub her brow.

“I’m going to grab myself another drink,” Bon Bon trotted away, but not before shooting a death glare at Lyra, enough to kill her if looks could hurt.

With nothing to literally do, I decided to promptly look around me.

Until my eyes catch something.

Is that a cannon?

“How the fuck have they invented cannons?” I mumbled almost incomprehensible to myself.

I left the green mare behind, now heading towards a light blue with pink wheel cannon. I, however, failed to notice Lyra following me.

Why would a cannon be here? They clearly haven't invented gunpowder, so it’s impossible for them to have invented artillery. Not unless they used a boiler to build up the pressure, that is, however, extremely impractical.

I closely examine this ‘cannon’.

To me, this just looks like it's powered by a manual air-compressor, which is weird considering on Earth they weren’t invented until the late Renaissance era. It seems this civilisation may skip that era entirely. Which has happened before, not every alien planet has the same timeline as Earth. That is generally how technology progr—

I was suddenly interrupted by my thoughts, “Whatcha don’?”

What a high pitched feminine sound, that most likely indicates that it’s an adolescent.

I turn on the spot to give my full attention to the creature next to me.

Instead of one, I’m greeted with THREE children (or foals), one is yellow with red hair and a MASSIVE bowtie in her hair. In the middle is an orange pegasus, with a purple mane and tail. Lastly, furthest on the right is a white unicorn with pink/purple hair.

“Just looking at this cannon,” I informed in a ‘manner of a fact’ voice.

“Yeah, Pinkie owns some weird stuff,” the orange pegasus stated.

Strangely, I agree with you.

I shot a questionable look at them, “So, who are you fillies?”

Each introduced themselves from left to right.

“Ah’m Applebloom,”

“I’m Scootaloo”

“I’m Sweetie Bell”


God, they are loud. Nothing compared to a gunshot, but still loud enough to destroy some brain cells.

“Ah was wondern’ about what ya said when ya first got here,” A brief pause, “What is a ‘fuck’?”

Thanks for describing my current situation.

“It’s a word to describe a pleasant experience.” They are soooooo going to fall for this, it’ll be so funny if they started running around town yelling ‘fuck’.

“Well, ah’m havn’ a fuck time.”

Don’t snicker, don’t snicker. Calm down, just calm down.

“What’s your cutie mark?” Sweetie Bell enquired in a high squeaky voice, “We haven’t seen it since you got it covered up.”

Ohhh, so THAT’S what my butt mark is called.

A green mare hiding plain sight slowly leans in.

I reached back and pulled down my pants slightly, “It’s an explosion.”

They all openly stared, completely enticed my its magnificence, “WHOAAAA.”

“Ah’ve never seen a cutie mark like that before!”

“It’s so cool!”

A few seconds passed as they continued to admire it.

Sweetie Bell tore her attention from my hunches, and switched to my face, “How’d you get it?”

What does she mean by ‘how’d you get it?’ I pondered.

It was only then that I noticed the fillies in front of me had no marks.

This means you have to get it somehow, what would trigger it though, some sort of magnificent event? Just comes at a certain age? No, that’s unlikely. These foals created a little club called the ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’, which means they're attempting to obtain them somehow. This must signify that each butt mark has to be earned, which in all probability refers to the person’s greatest interest and/or talent.

For each individual it would be unique, as according to all the cutie marks on the ponies surrounding me, every single one is different.


You know what? I’ll wing it. Heh.

I returned back to reality, and focused on the trio in from of me, “I accidentally made an explosion.”

I paused, prompting the pegasus to make a ‘continue’ gesture with her foreleg.

“When I was travelling the world with my parents, every location we went to I often collected different materials. Until one day, once I had collected a considerable amount, I decided to mess around with them. Mixing, mashing and combining. I made a few different substances, some powders, some mush, others disgusting black liquids. I did a few different experiments on them, like heating up, and burning. Once particular black powder though, reacted very differently from the rest. It blew up in my face, covering my muzzle completely in black soot, and then, I got my cutie mark,” I paused and pointed to my left flank. “Since then I have perfected the powder, and used it in some of my new inventions.”

Man, I am so good at imagining stories.

“WHOAAA,” the trio expressed.

Sweetie Bell shot an excited look to her fellow Crusaders, “What if we tried to get explosion cutie marks?”


What is wrong with these kids? How many things have they tried? I may as well be the person who’s responsible for their deaths.

I shuffled through my left saddlebag, grabbed three paper cartridges, and placed them on the floor in front of them, “Here, have some ‘explosion powder’.”

They all gasped.

Scootaloo gained an expression of determination, “This will definitely earn our cutie marks!”

They all excitedly nodded.

“Come on girls! We’ve got some crusading to do!”

They all immediately galloped away in a blur.

Annnnnd they’re off, I hope they don’t cause any explosive damage. Actually, disregard that statement. I don’t care what they do. In fact, it’ll be funny if they end up killing some people.

Now, where are those cupcakes again? Mmmmmm, cake.

Wait a sec, did I just give them lead? The metal that is literally is worth millions of dollars in this society?

In that case, I forgot to tell them that they’ve won the lottery.

The rest of the party went past in a blur, I talked to several different ponies, had more cake, all the while I had this stupid nagging sensation at the back of my head.

Probably just from my sugar overdose.

Eventually, only a few ponies remained in the building, concluding the end of the night.

I was just about to leave until a certain pink party mare disrupted my vision.

“Did ya like the party? Did ya? Did ya? Huh huh huh?”

This mare is so annoying.

I gave her a slightly forced smile, and spoke through clenched teeth, “It was great.” Could have done with stronger alcohol though, that stuff is so weak.

“Welp, see ya next time,” I farewelled, walked through the door and out into the starry night sky.

I calmly walk in the direction of home.

A light breeze lightly ruffles my mane and tail, consequently resulting myself to become relaxed.

I gaze up at the night sky.


Stars are literally the least entertaining objects in existence, massive balls of fusion? Pfft, I can watch that exothermic reaction from my own household.

While I’m complaining about existence, the breeze picks up speed, promptly resulting in a magazine to slam me square on the face.

Yuck! Get off me!

I violently yank it off my muzzle, furthermore glaring at the front page. However, as I continued to plough through, my expression immediately softens.

Well, fuck. This is what it looks like on this planet. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.


I throw the article to the right of me and continue on my way.

Time to head home.

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