Punk rock loser
Crap. This isn’t good. Is it?
If what is happening is what you think is happening then no, it isn’t good. It is in fact bad.
How do you block your mind getting read again? Ah yes, confidence, wasn’t it? Just believe super-hard that your mind is an unreadable fortress and it shall be so. That’s stupid, sure, but that’s magic, and you’ve learn about magic and that sounds about right! So! Think bricks, think mortar, think unassailable.
Don’t think about that kind of creepy smile. Bleurgh.
“Done something new with your hair?” I ask, playing it cool. Part of the confidence, see.
The smile becomes a smirk. Still bleurgh.
“How very nice of you to notice,” he - they? She? It’s obviously Umbra so let’s go with she, it’s she. She says. That’s what she said, giving the mane a little flick.
“Hah. Another of your interesting little illusion things? Or what?”
Really, it could have been anything. I’m willing to accept anything at this point.
“I am waring this particular servant. It is quite simple,” she said, smirk gone now, down to business.
Also: waring?
“What? Like Ravenor?”
“Who?” She asked, brow furrowed, but then something clicked. “Ah. Yes. One of your references. I remember. Yes, like Ravenor. If you like.”
It was oddly uncomfortable having someone here actually get what I was talking about. Wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Probably didn’t help that I knew she only got it from the benefit of having dug around inside my head. Brr.
“Is that - that’s kind of unpleasant, actually, I can’t lie. Was he cool with that? He volunteer?”
“Of course he volunteered. They all did.”
“I bet they all did.”
Felt it rather removed from the spirit of volunteering if the thought of refusing has been scrubbed from the minds of those you’re asking, but maybe that’s just me. I remember how widely her help smiled. They struck me as being so thoroughly, ah, enthusiastic that they’d probably have volunteered to take a long walk off a short pier.
And as heavily implied already I had an inkling most of that enthusiasm had been put there by Umbra. I could have asked her, but she’d either have lied or told the truth with such bluntness and lack of comprehension that I’d regret it.
The pony disappears in a red-edged black puff and pops up next to me on my bench with a similar puff, which makes me jump. Teleporting! Not just for Celestia anymore, apparently. I could run for it, but something tells me I wouldn’t get very far. I’d need to pick the right moment for that, if I needed to. Keep playing it cool. So cool. King of the cucumbers, that’s me.
“What is it you are doing?” Umbra asks, looking me over. I look down at myself, my teacup, all that. I’m not sure what she wants me from.
“Sewing,” I say.
That got me a sharp look. Kind of diminished since it was coming from her via someone else, but it was still a sharper look than most could manage. The lack of the terrifying red eyes and pointy teeth did kind of undercut it, though, kind of robbed it of a certain something the in-person Umbra had.
Not that I’m complaining.
“As far as your jokes go, that is even worse than I had come to expect. What are you doing, John?” She asks again, a touch more stiffly. Think I only had room for one joke on that one and I’ve burned through it. Sigh.
“Why should I tell you?” I ask.
“Because I asked you. Nicely,” she says.
She knows my weaknesses. I give my teacup a waggle. It sloshes.
“Drinking tea.”
“Hmm. And the book?” She asks, nodding over towards my other side. I look. Right, I still had the book.
“Light reading.”
“May I see?”
Kind of weird her asking. So weird it put me off-guard and had me holding it out to her. The book gets taken into one of those glowy little levitation fields and she flips through it a bit silently before handing it back. I put it back the other side of me again.
Some further silence. I can feel her watching me.
“It won’t work,” she said, eventually. Sigh. One of these conversations.
“That so.”
Not even going to bother phrasing that as a question.
“No. You lack the aptitude and the temperament. You also lack the bare capability beyond the merest flickering, but mostly it is your temperament that is what will prevent you from succeeding.”
Feel like I’m having one of those parent-teacher evenings again. Certainly, that’s the closest thing that comes to mind from hearing that. I think my teachers were a little less polite about my potential, though. Which is saying something. And Umbra at least can remember my name, so she’s also got that going for her.
“That’s good to know,” I say.
“I am being quite serious. I have been inside you, if you remember.”
Ew.
“Really wish you wouldn’t say it like that…” I said, wrinkling my nose.
“I chose my words quite deliberately.”
“I know you did!”
“Thought you would have appreciated the joke.”
Huh. Got my number.
“...maybe a little. But still!”
“Why are you doing this anyway, John?” Umbra asks, switching back, nodding towards the book. I shrug.
“Just passing the time.”
“That is not true. You have something in mind. I can see where you were reading. Teleportation and travel magic. Introductory dimensional theory. Do you wish to return home, John?”
“No, no, Christ no, not at all.”
“Then why?”
You know, if there was anyone I could be honest with about this it’d be Umbra. Not as if she’s liable to go off and blab to anyone. Like how it’s often very easy to be bracingly honest with strangers, easy to unload on someone you’ve never met and likely will never meet again. But no, not doing that. Not with her.
“Just, ah, curious, is all.”
Again, I can really, really feel her staring. Is it time to run yet? Probably not when she’s watching me. If I flick a coin somewhere, will she follow it? Probably not.
“I know what you are trying to do,” she says, once she figures out I’m just going to keep looking ahead and not looking at her.
“Are you reading my mind again?”
“No. I am aware that you do not want me to and so I am not. But I have previously, and so I knew already. You are trying to contact your father.”
Now I’m looking at her, just so I can focus my expression of disbelief and annoyance at her. Not that she seems to care. Rolls right off her, it does, but I give it to her anyway, because I am annoyed and I do not believe her.
“Bollocks you’re not reading my mind again! How the hell could you possibly know that? That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind the last time we met! How could it have?”
I got another stare.
“I saw enough to know it is what you would do.”
“Deduced it or whatever, then? Pieced it together?”
“Yes.”
“Pretty smart lady, then?”
The smile comes back. Real wide.
“Exceptionally smart.”
Eurgh. I turn back, put my elbows on my knees and my face in hands. This isn’t what I want to be doing or who I want to be doing it with. I want to be back in bed, asleep or otherwise. I want things to be pleasant and sedate and calm. Well, more pleasant and sedate and calm - my life is pretty great! This bit isn’t just very fun. And she scares me.
“Have you mentioned this to the others? Wanting to do this?” She asks.
“No, no, not to anyone.”
“You do not want to ask for their help, do you? Or have them offer it.”
I didn’t bother taking my face from my hands. Definitely one of those conversations where I’m just playing catchup to someone who feels they’ve solved all my problems and expects me to graciously tease the answers out of them. It’s like being back home, only it’s not raining and everyone has hooves.
“No end to your perceptiveness. No, I don’t. Guessing you’ve already worked out my exact reasons for why, right?” I asked.
“Of course. I know you. I know you better than anyone, likely better than you know yourself. Because I have-”
“-been inside me, yes.”
“Do not interrupt me.”
“Sorry. I’m not in the best mood.”
“Do not do it again. I know you better than you know yourself because I’ve seen sides of you that you take great pains to purposefully ignore. Sides that you are not even aware of as you have become so good at ignoring them.”
I very much doubt that I am deep enough to have bits that I don’t know about.
“Well great, Umbra, you got me figured out. Figured out what I’m trying to do and why I’m trying to do and, uh, everything else from top to bottom and side to side. It’s not the most vital or important thing in the world but it’s something that’s gnawing at me, so yeah. Mean, I haven’t actually been in the same room as dad for, pffbt, years, but that’s not really the point.”
I’m babbling. Put the brake on that, turn it around!
“You see your father much?” I ask Umbra. For kicks. Why not, right?
“My father is dead,” she says.
Whoops.
“Oh. Uh, sorry about that.”
It was hard to gauge where she stood on his being dead from the way she’d said it. Some people can be very laid back about that sort of thing, some people cannot. You never really know until you prod, and it’s rude to prod. So I prodded here gently. Turns out I needn’t have been gentle.
“Don’t be.”
Awkward.
“You, uh, have fond memories of him or…?” I ask, having now started this blasted line of conversation and feeling compelled to push it along a bit further. This seemed like something you should ask, yeah? Like a normal person? A normal person thing to ask?
“Many fond memories. I particularly remember his last words to me.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. ‘Umbra, no!’”
“...that’s - that’s a joke, right?”
She just stares at me. Again. Ponies are really, really good at staring, I’ve learnt, though normally it’s not so unsettling. Or so cold.
“...the staring is part of the joke, right?” I ask.
A pause.
“Yes, John.”
Is saying that also part of the joke?
I really don’t think I want to know.
“I would be more than willing to help you,” she says.
That took me a second. I thought I’d misheard her at first, perhaps, but she’d spoken quite clearly and it was a pretty straightforward sentence. I raised my head from my hands and found her looking at me (again, for a given value of ‘her’ - it’s super-weird seeing the mannerisms and body language and everything of someone else stuffed into someone who isn’t them. Tickles the brain).
“You?” I asked.
She nodded.
“There is no area of magic that I have not mastered or would be unable to master were I to turn my attention towards it. Even if you did not wish your problem simply solved for you, I would be able to assist you in solving it for yourself. You could not receive better help in this world or, I would expect, any other. This is not an offer I would make for anyone else. You should not take it lightly.”
I wasn’t taking it lightly. Mostly I was just confused. She didn’t seem the sort to be offering help, even if she wanted something in return - she seemed more the taking sort if she wanted something. And it wasn’t like I had anything in the first place.
So yeah, confused.
“Why?”
“Because it is you, and because I can see that this is a source of some anxiety to you, though you perhaps either do not realise the depth of it or are unwilling to consider it too closely. Whichever the answer happens to be it is something that is making you unhappy, and I dislike this. You are less interesting when you are mopey.”
Ah, there it was. I did have something. Myself. And she’d already tried taking that.
“Heh, enlightened self-interest, then?”
“Partly. I also dislike to see you anxious. It displeases me. Whether you consider that self-interested or not is up to you. It remains true either way.”
“Huh…”
Full of surprises, her.
“So what is your answer?”
“My answer?”
“To my offer. I was quite serious.”
She wanted an answer right now? I’d barely had time to think twice about it! Or once! Or at all! Initial gut-feeling is noooooooo, which seems about right, but maybe I’m wrong?
“Well, I mean, it’s very generous of you, obviously, it’s just that, well, you know, you’re not the most popular around here and you did kidnap me that one time so forgive me if I’m one one-hundred percent one the idea at a base level. I’m making kind of slow and steady progress on my own and with a bit of Twilight’s help - lovely girl, Twilight, you know - so while I’m sure you’d certainly be able to, ah, boost where I’m at, I don’t really feel, Umbra, that-”
“Stop your babbling, John, and stop playing for time. How you feel about the offer is immaterial. Either accept it or don’t.”
“What? You’ll just leave me alone from now on if I say no?”
“Of course not. I just won’t help you with your problem and, as a result, it will never be resolved.”
Too much to hope for, I guess.
“So I’ll be mopey and unfun forever?” I ask, pointing out what, by her own professed reasons, seems to be a flaw in her plan. To me at least.
“I will learn to live with it. As will you.”
“...I really can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
“Yes. Or. No, John.”
Jesus Christ. The eyes went red again.
Really, there was only one answer here. Right? Anything other than the obvious answer would have been unimaginably stupid. Even as an idle thought experiment it was stupid. There was no way anything other than the obvious would end well. So the answer was easy. Well, easy to come up with, less easy to say, because I had a feeling it wasn’t going to land happily.
Still, nothing else for it. Take a breath.
“No, sorry. Thanks for the truly unexpected offer and all but, uh, no. I’ll just hacking away at it on my own, fruitlessly or not,” I said, bracing myself.
For a couple of seconds it looks like she’s just completely frozen. Not even a muscle twitches. It’s eerie. Then one of her ears flicks.
“No-one has ever refused me,” she said. She sounded honestly a bit confused.
“Have you ever offered anyone help?”
“That is beside the point. No-one has ever refused me.”
The confusion is gone now. Irritation is creeping in. The kind of disbelieving irritation, where something has happened that’s so ridiculous and silly but which has still messed things up and now you have a mess to deal with. That kind of irritation. I can recognise that kind of irritation. I have experience of it.
“Thought you said if I said no you’d just not offer me help,” I say.
“That was before you said no. Now that you have I have found myself unhappy with your answer.”
“But it’s my answer.”
“It is the wrong answer.”
“That - I’m not sure what you want from me, Umbra.”
“A better answer, John.”
Okay, definitely time to go, I think.
Not much chance of sneaking away though. Bugger. It’s going to have to be something more, uh, forceful, isn’t it? This is going downhill fast and she’s not someone I could just walk away from, I’m getting the feeling. So what? Need to make a window. Need something bold.
Um…
My tea had cooled down by now, properly, and while I’d drunk a fair amount, an equally fair amount remained in the cup. I risked a little look down. Yup, that was a fair amount of lukewarm too.
Idea forming. Yes.
I felt bad about what I was about to do to her volunteer given it wasn’t, you know, his fault or anything like that, but sometimes in life you have to do unpleasant things to people you bear no personal ill-will towards.
Right? Pretty sure that’s a thing.
“John, what-”
Argh! Mind reading or not she knows something’s up! Act! Act now!
Tea to the face! Followed up by book across the jaw which, given the size of the book, is no joke. Sends the poor volunteer flying, oof. Sorry buddy.
Now run!
She - or the body she’s presently joyriding, whatever - can teleport, sure, but that only matters if she knows where I am! I know these streets though! Kind of! I can pick a nice, sneaky route! Left here, right there, down here, up there - I’m like the fucking wind!
Right! Back to the castle! Palace! Whatever! Find Celestia! Tell her the whole thing! Top to bottom! Just honesty! Should have done that in the first place! Why didn’t I think of that before?! Just tell her the whole thing! And especially start with Umbra! And how she can apparently just hop into her minions and sneak around! That’s news to me, might be news to Celestia too!
It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. I can see the castle from here! It’s just there! Few streets away. I got long legs! I’ll be there in no time!
I round a corner and run more-or-less straight into some poor, hapless unicorn coming the other way. They come out alright but I’m less lucky because, in my effort not to just flatten them, I reflexively kind of, uh, hurled myself over the top of them. I never knew I was so acrobatic. And I’m not, really, it was more of a spring and I did not stick the landing. Pretty sure I managed to do a proper forward flip. Certainly knocked the wind out of me.
“Ow, fuck. Uh, sorry about that, wasn’t looking where I was going,” I say, wincing and heaving back up onto my feet again. The unicorn - some lady unicorn I don’t recognise - seems very relaxed about it though. Very relaxed indeed, actually. She’s smiling about it.
“I did not expect that, John. I’m almost impressed,” she says.
“...shit.”
She could hop. Hop between bodies. And she’d brought others. Hadn’t seen that coming.
More running!
Manage to get, oh, I don’t know, three steps or something before my leg gives out. My good leg. What had been my bad leg but had since been my good, perfectly dependable leg. Put my weight onto it like it’s nothing and pow, just collapses. I go sideways, clonk my head on a wall, collapse. Pretty sure I bit something too. I can taste blood.
Try to stand up, fail. Leg not responding at all. Also my mouth hurts, ow.
Look down. Grab my leg, give it an accusing shake. Nothing.
“Leg?! Now?! I thought you were better!”
Still nothing. Less than nothing, actually. It had never been this bad before. It’s like it’s gone to sleep. Limp, dead weight.
And she’s approaching. Whelp, my other leg is working, and so are my arms, so we’re crawling away! Flipping over and crawling away!
Or we would have been had my arm - the left one, the bad side one, that one that had also been good up until now - not given out. I went flop onto my face. Could really taste blood, definitely bit something. Ow.
One arm is still good! I can haul away with one arm.
I can hear that she’s beside me now.
“Mending the damage done to your body was a courtesy. A courtesy that can be withdrawn.”
Oh come on!
I roll onto my back, with some difficulty. She does not look happy. Or well, actually.
Smoke, little trails of very dark smoke, was starting to trail from bits of her - from the body she was in now - bits like the corners of the eyes, the tip of her horn, the edges of her hooves. If I had to make a guess - and I’m not exactly an expert here - I’d say that Umbra was throwing more down the waring pipe than this volunteer could actually handle. Not that she would likely care about that sort of thing. They had volunteered, after all…
“I must say, John, I didn’t think you had it in you. But now really isn’t the time for this sort of thing.”
“I’m not so sure about that!”
She clambers onto me, so she stand on top of me and keep me pinned down, I guess? Had she been her regular size this probably would have been considerably less comfortable, but since she was in a teeny pony body it was more bearable. Still not fun, though. Cute as ponies are, this was not cute. She was looking down at me, eyes red, smoking. Horn smoking. Nostrils smoking a little.
“Will you accept my help?” She asked.
I’m not sure what I’d been expecting to come next but it had been more serious and dramatic than that. I’d expected something nasty and explosive and magical, given everything that had happened. Not that.
“...that’s it? That’s what this was about?”
“Of course. You said no. No-one refuses me.”
“...so you’re asking, but you’ll only accept one answer?”
“Yes.”
“And you messed up my leg and everything with magic and chased me just to make me accept your help in…learning…magic…?”
“Yes.”
“...you do know what disproportionate means, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said, in a way that made it pretty clear she didn’t think what she’d done was disproportionate.
She’d stopped smoking now.
Alright. New plan. Agree, and then immediately tell everyone what happened. That seems simple enough, right? Nod, smile, play along - ‘Oh Umbra you crazy one, you, I couldn’t say no to you! We’ll have a wacky time, I’m sure! No hard feelings!’ - then the second she’s out of sight go to Celestia and Twilight and Luna and all of Twilight’s friends, maybe, and anyone else who looks like they want to pitch in and tell them what happened. Doesn’t even matter if I have to explain a little of what I was doing, there’s no other way.
So yes, new plan. Simple!
…why is she looking at me like that?
“John,” she says, slowly. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“...mind reading?”
“No, please stop accusing me of that, I said I wouldn’t do that, didn’t I? I’m just not stupid. You’re thinking of agreeing, of saying yes.”
“Yes?”
“And then telling Celestia what happened and about me.”
Bollocks.
“...no! Never.”
“You are a poor liar. But it’s okay. It is the obvious thing for you to do.”
“...which leaves us where?”
“Here. And here is what I am going to do - what we are going to do. You are going to accept my help, and I will ensure that you do not tell anyone that you have accepted my help.”
“How’s that?”
“I will seal off your ability to tell anyone you have accepted my help.”
I’m not sure what she means there. I heard her, obviously, and I understand the words she used, but they describe something I cannot wrap my head around. What does that mean, exactly? In practise? What does it mean for me? Nothing good, I’m guessing.
“How- what? How can you do that? Can you do that?”
“Of course I can do that. It’s just a case of placing a few blocks in your head. Small ones, enough to keep you from saying what you shouldn’t. Nothing more.”
The scope of this is daunting, but I really don’t need to comprehend all of it to hate it. I was uncomfortable when she was poking around my head looking at what I had lying around, the thought of her putting things in there is something else entirely. There’s a stomach-twisting level of incoherent fear in that idea, for me, and that she’s this close to me and just casually throwing it out…
“You’re joking! You’re not joking?! Umbra, come on! That’s as bad as the mind reading! No, worse! It’s worse!”
“No it’s not,” she said.
It’s quite jarring having someone just bluntly, flatly disagree with you without even offering so much as a hint of their reasoning. When someone feels their position is so self-evidently obvious and unassailable that the need to explain or justify it doesn’t even cross their minds. It’s like running into a wall. A wall of self-belief, I guess?
“...it is!” I say, about all I can muster. She just shakes her head at me, like I’m being unreasonable.
“No, it is not John. It’s not the same and it certainly isn’t worse.”
“It’s fiddling with my brain! Thought you said you wouldn’t do that to me. Didn’t you say that? You said that! I remember you saying that! Come on!”
“It is nothing like that. It’s simply a few minor, magical blocks to ensure you do not cause unnecessary trouble for either of us. They will be unobtrusive, the process is painless. You will not even notice they are there.”
Nope, no.
“Unless I try to do the thing you don’t want me to do!”
“You won’t even notice then.”
Sinister.
“...that’s so worse! No, Umbra! Just-”
This is really not great. Nope, none of this is good, this is all bad. Should have learnt some self-defence, should have brought someone to watch me, shouldn’t have ever left the castle - fuck, shouldn’t have ever left the bed. Nope, awful. Not having anything else done to my head, magical or otherwise, not by her. Worked out alright last time, this time no, not this.
So I’m leaving.
With a lot of effort I heave back onto my front, tossing her off in the process, and I get back on trying to escape. It’s not, you know, easy with only one leg and one arm, but I can work with that. Can get kind of a bounding flop going, covers enough distance. And look! Down the end! Stairs! I can fall down those! Maybe into a street with some help? Hell, it’s all I’ve got, I’ll take it!
But I’m being pulled backwards!
“You’re making this much harder than it needs to be, John.”
“Yes! I am! Think about why! Look inward!”
“You are dramatic sometimes.”
I’m trying to pull myself forward but I’m not going anywhere!
“Really, this is silly. I am doing you a favour, John.”
We’re well past that!
“It’s not about the favour! I’m flattered you offered, really, but it’s fine! I don’t want your help, okay?! That’s what I said! I’m not saying yes! I’m saying no, okay? I’m saying no to you! I don’t want your help!”
I cannot believe this level of nonsense if flowing from me wanting to write a fucking letter.
“You’re saying that, but I’ve decided you don’t mean that. It’s not a good answer, and it’s not an answer I’ll accept. No, this way we’ll both be happy. In the end.”
“I’m not happy!”
“You will be. In the end. Now hold still.”
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I am getting serious G-Man (from Half Life) vibes from Umbra now.
11463633
While she believes a man like John understands the importance of…discretion...her employers are not quite so trusting. And rather than continually subject him to the irresistible human temptation of telling all, she has decided to…convey him somewhere where he can do no possible harm, and where no harm can come to him. Or something.
I have taken her in a direction, because as god of this benighted place, I can do as I like.
Your readers are lucky John isn't me because John would be spending the rest of this trying to kill Umbra.
And I don't think that makes for a good story
She's not much of a listener, is she?
Epic
Narcissism and denial, with a hefty dash of sociopathy. Umbra, you crazy.
I've just finished binged reading the entire series and now I want more
11456174
Yes I agree, I can relate to John. Hence my overly long reply. The best fiction is a window onto ourselves. I fear I may have an unhealthy fixation with our hero.
Merry Xmas and a prosperous New Year to you and yours
Satan would not be happy to have Umbra as his understudy in Milton's 'Paradise Regained"
Satan: You had one job!
Umbra:..Um?
Well done getting Umbra closely involved without John having to hold the idiot ball. She is rather disturbing in this.
11463689 Actually, killing Umbra sounds like a blast!
Umbra, "You will own nothing and you will be happy! I CAN MAKE YOU HAPPY, SLAVES!!"
Klaus Schwabb, "This odd feeling in my chest... my heart just started beating again! Is this... could it be... WUV?!"
Nothing makes life more interesting than problems! 😤
great story, my favorite
Vague appreciation
Oh hey it's mommy! I mean... mommy! No, wait I mean mommy, I mean mommy I mean mommy I mean Umbra.
She fucks up his leg and hand again, alicorns gonna notice, which is bad for Umbra.
Unless she makes him disappear again, except that alicorns gonna notice, which is bad for Umbra.
Umbra's not much on thinking through on many of her decisions, is she?
11704382 Alondro, "And I found out we can trigger a LOT of that gas to smash together if we use these glowing rocks inside a beryllium-shelled core surrounded with high explosives!"
Arca, "What if instead of explosives.... we used really powerful spells? Like... mega-type spells?"
Alondro, "I like the way you think!"
(And that's how "Fallout: Equestria" really happened...)