• Published 25th Jan 2013
  • 7,909 Views, 225 Comments

Someone Came With Her - chromewasp



You keep sayin' somethin' about bein' male and "human" before you showed up in Appleloosa...

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17
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 7,909

The Ecstasy of Green

Your ears pin themselves flat against your head, and your mouth is as dry as the dust you stand on. Your mane is practically standing on end, and your legs quiver as your brain frantically tries to choose between fight or flight.

“What now?” you ask, your voice much shakier than you'd like.

“We beat the cud out of 'em,” Habanero yells, shooting straight towards the Dust Devil.

You've seen way too much TV to not know how this is going to end. You wince, expecting the pegasus to get his scrawny ass handed to him in a brutal demonstration of the Dust Devil's power.

Which makes it all the more surprising when, with a loud crack of shattering stone, Habanero lands a hefty hoof-punch on the monster's jaw. The creature recoils, bellowing an unearthly cry of outrage.

Habanero doesn't make a clean getaway. One of the swirling rocks from the miniature tornado serving as the Dust Devil's “legs” catches him on the base of his right wing, and it's enough topple him over.

The Dust Devil sneers and jabs a contemptuous finger at the wounded Habanero. Quickly the Trail Heads start towards him, but before they can take a chomp out of him the pegasus is suddenly dragged back towards your group. You notice a bright blue shimmer wrapping around his body; the same glow that Fairweather's horn is emitting.

“Right, so maybe that wasn't the brightest idea,” Habanero admits as he skids to a halt in front of Fairweather.

“I must say, dear boy, you skirt an uncanny boundary between bravery and idiocy,” Big Iron remarks as the Trail Heads hop closer. “And yet...I'm tempted to explore it myself.”

“Wait!” Fairweather calls, but it's too late. With a startling burst of speed Big Iron charges the nearest Trail Head, trampling it underfoot like a shrew caught in a buffalo stampede. Habanero starts after him, but he cries out in pain as soon as he starts to move his wounded wing.

“Son of a whip-snapping wick-whacking dish-smashing argafarghanaaargh!” he cries, rolling on the ground in agony.

“Stay where you are—I've got a plan,” Fairweather calls.

“And--oof--jus' what in the hay is that?” growls Habanero through gritted teeth.

Fairweather's response is to fire a near-seizure-inducing beam of energy straight into the chest of the Dust Devil. It jolts back, its glass longcoat cracking from the massive discharge of power. Its head droops pathetically, and it starts to teeter back and forth as Fairweather's barrage continues.

Just when you're starting to think it's finally about to collapse, its posture suddenly straightens. A wickedly intelligent smile lights up its crude features, and then Fairweather's energy beam starts to change. It becomes a sickly powder-blue, growing jagged and uneven.

“It's suckin' out yer magic!” Habanero yells, barely dodging a snapping Trail Head. Out of the corner of your eye you can see more of the monstrosities rising from the earth. “Stop the spell!”

“I can't!” Fairweather cries. He's looking more and more faint and sickly every second. Big Iron barges through the swarm of Trail Heads, desperate to come to his aid. But he's too distracted to notice them regrouping, and quickly he's locked in a losing battle with the monsters. Habanero catches you with a heart-wrenching look of despair just before he himself gets hogpiled by a snarling wave of Trail Heads.

Your stomach manages to drop even further as it finally becomes grimly clear that unless you do something, everyone is going to die. The Dust Devil folds its arms again, flashing you a malicious grin as it basks in the glory of its approaching victory.

"Bury them," it hisses, its voice an unnerving imitation of the man who undoubtedly created it.

Something flexes in your mind.

And then it snaps.

If this is going to be how it ends, you won't give Trask the pleasure of submission. Snarling in a way that you're surprised your delicate throat is capable of producing, you reach out with your magic and connect it with a hefty-sized rock to the right of the Dust Devil. Rather than imagining an internet connection, this time you envision a massive harpoon gun, spearing the rock with tendrils of magical energy.

Once the connection is firm and taut, you proceed to the next step of the spell. Rather than an elevator, you use the image of a massive jumbo jet taking off. The rock shoots into the air with such speed that you almost lose your ethereal grip on it.

Control. That's the last step. You think of a giant wrecking ball smashing into an apartment building, imagining yourself at the controls.

This all happens in mere seconds. But even so, one of the Trail Heads manages to hop over to your right foreleg and sink its teeth into your shin.

You cringe from the pain, but it's not enough to break your concentration. Still imagining the giant wrecking ball, you swiftly hurl the rock at the Dust Devil, grunting from the sheer mental effort.

The creature tries to dodge out of the way, but the speed of your throw surprises even you. The volleyball-sized rock crashes into the Dust Devil's head with a satisfying crunch of pulverized granite.

Abruptly the beam of energy snaking out from Fairweather's horn stops. He gasps in relief, and the look of supreme gratitude on his face gives you a warmth you can't decide if you like or not.

Though the Dust Devil is still standing, it's obvious that your little reenactment of David and Goliath has left it in poor shape. Its stone head is barely holding together, and its cyclone “legs” don't look like they'll keep it aloft much longer.

“Not bad,” wheezes Fairweather, giving you a weak smile. “I'll owe you a drink when we're through with this.”

Your attack also seems to have broken the Dust Devil's link with the Trail Heads. The little stone creatures lie motionlessly on the ground like heaps of demented garden ornaments, and from the two largest piles burst out Habanero and Big Iron.

“Now, then...” snorts Big Iron as he glares at the reeling Dust Devil. “I believe you said something about 'burying' us?”

“N-no!” the Dust Devil shrieks as the two ponies launch into a full-on charge. Sickly sparks dance along the features of the lifeless Trail Heads as the Dust Devil tries to resurrect them.

To say what happens next is a one-sided battle would be like saying that blast furnaces are warm. You vaguely wish you could join in as the two ponies proceed to systematically smash the Dust Devil into pieces, but you're not sure you want to get caught by one of Big Iron's sledgehammer-like kicks.

Besides...you're riding high on the sheer awesomeness of what you just did. You stopped a monster that even Fairweather, a unicorn with God-knows-how-many years of intense magical training, had no hope of defeating.

But you've gotten something much greater out of the battle than bragging rights. What really makes your spirit soar is the knowledge that you just might have a chance at making Trask pay.

“Mighty fine work out there, Miss Sonora.,” grins Habanero. “First day, and yer practically already a Spellbreaker. Yer just mah kinda mare.”

“You wish,” scoffs Big Iron. “Listen not to that rapscallion's honeyed words, milady—he inflicts this upon any female who casts her eyes on him for more than a second.”

“Ah think I hear a lil' jealousy,” says Habanero. “Now listen here--”

“Are you implying you have anything I would be jealous of?” says Big Iron, rolling his eyes. “How droll. How positively droll.”

“Might wanna blow your nose, fancypants,” shoots back Habanero. “Yer soundin' kinda snotty.”

Big Iron stops in his tracks.

“What did you just call me?”

“Yeah, yew heard it right. 'Fancypants,'” Habanero spits.

Big Iron isn't glaring daggers at Habanero: no, he's glaring giant flaming chainsaws.

“You'd best take that back,” breathes Big Iron, his voice like steam rushing out of a boiler about to blow itself apart.

“Nah, ah think I'll leave it where it is, fancypants,” scowls Habanero. “But if you wanna try an' make me, go right ahead.”

Big Iron snarls in wordless rage and charges at Habanero. The pegasus tries to dodge out of the way at the last second, but Big Iron manages to compensate.

The two snarling ponies grapple with each other with truly animalistic fury. “Aren't you going to do something?” you ask Fairweather, who gazes upon the spectacle with little emotion other than mild annoyance.

“They do this after pretty much every mission,” sighs Fairweather. Meanwhile the battle has become enveloped in a cartoonish puffy cloud of dust, with struggling hooves occasionally emerging before getting pulled back in. You're pretty sure you see more than a few multicolored stars shooting from the fight, too.

“You wouldn't know it,” Fairweather continues, “but they're the best of friends. Sometimes I wonder if they're even more than that,” he says, his tone the verbal equivalent of a wink and a nudge. “Anyway, I think it's some weird kind of stress relief for them. As much as he likes to claim otherwise, Big Iron loves a good brawl just as much as Habanero.”

“Don't you ever worry about the injuries?” you ask, wincing as the sounds of the scuffle grow more and more violent.

“No. And you're about to find out why,” Fairweather explains.

As if on cue, the dust cloud kicked up by the fight begins to fade. Habanero lies limply on top of Big Iron like a wet towel, the pair of them panting so heavily that they can't utter even one more insult.

“Wanna call it a draw?” coughs Habanero.

“Yes...I believe that will suffice,” wheezes Big Iron.

Surprisingly, the two haven't sustained any injuries beyond just minor scrapes and bruises. Looking a bit like children caught in the middle of a tug-of-war between their favorite toy, the two stallions are soon trudging sheepishly along after Fairweather.

“Happens every time,” Fairweather says. “Now, then. About those drinks I promised you...”

“Don't worry about it,” you assure him, hoping he doesn't hear your growling stomach. “I've had more than enough for today.”

“Dinner, then?”

Damn, this guy is insistent. And what's worse is that you kinda like him for it.

“I'm hoping you're not gonna turn this into a date,” you murmur, doing your best to inject a bit of humor into your voice.

Fairweather shakes his head vigorously. “Of course not. Strictly professional.”


“Oh, dai-di-dai-di-dai-di-dai, dai-di-dai-di-dai!” the bargoers sing, upending more than a few glasses of saltwater as they dance on top of the table.

“I suppose this isn't the best way to reward a good days' work,” Fairweather says, rubbing a hoof against his forehead.

“Hey, at least it's got atmosphere,” you say in between mouthfuls of delicious greens. You resisted the urge to order another saltwater cocktail in favor of a cold bottle of sarsaparilla and an ominously named “Trail Dust Salad.” As it turns out, the “trail dust” is actually ground-up spiced cheese, peppered liberally on a heap of luscious leaves of lettuce and juicy sliced tomatoes.

Back home you would have considered it a forgettable meal. But now, with your altered taste buds, it puts the most tender and succulent of steaks to shame.

On some level you're troubled by the loss of your omnivorous tastes, but compared to the other changes you've endured it isn't too distressing.

For now, you just want to bask a little in the glory of what you supremely hope will be the first of many victories against Trask. And if salad must be your reward...you will relish it like a fat man finding the last strip of bacon in the universe.

Comments ( 87 )

That Dust Devil never knew what hit it.

Hell yeah. Keep it coming, dear. ;)

Habanero headcannon = Cheech
Fair weather headcannon = Clint Eastwood
Sonora headcannon = Sigourney Weaver
Trask headcannon = Nicolas Cage
just had to get that across

Yeah! Trask better watch out now! Now that Sonora has proven capable of fighting, she's finally got some control over her life, but let's hope she doesn't get overconfident...

2765923
Hah. Any ideas on Big Iron?

2768216 where there is Cheech there has to be Chong, right?

2763417
The Spetsnaz is after me? Somehow, I knew this day would come.
2763860
I suppose you could say that Sonora rocked his world. Still, his recovery is only a stone's throw away. But he certainly won't take his life for granite after this.
2766383
2765530
Thank you!
2767365
Indeed; if she pushes herself too hard, the only thing she'll get is a total party kill.
2770006
Logical enough.

2772290 ...Chapter was fun. Oh...Nice Puns. You're quite punny. ....But I have an idea for you to put those puns to use...OC named Obsidian Pile....(see what I did there...) and he can be comedic relief....as well as a touch of crazy and unusualness...

2779598
Thanks. I hope they're resonating a bit more with you now?
2779992
When it comes to puns, I leave no stone unturned.

2787516 How bout gems? Emerald Futility? Ruby Rocks? ...Saph-NOPE! Tungsten Torment? Steel Shreds? How are these names sounding? Pyrite Puns? I like the last one...reminds me of Pinkie Pie...Love alliteration puns...

2840652
First off, thanks for the feedback.

As for Trask's decision: it seems strange, doesn't it? But rest assured, there is an explanation as to why he gave her the potential to use magic. (And no, it's not the tiresome "he just didn't expect her to use it" idea.)

This is some good stuff right here. You can safely consider this story tracked.

God dam this needs to up date. Just reread it and am now annoyed at how quick it goes.

3056880
My apologies it's taking so long. I've been working on a side-project lately.
2894966
Much appreciated!

Interesting concept, even if the plot is a bit cliche'. I look forward to seeing how you go about this. :pinkiehappy:

3223359
Sonora would make an adorable mommy-horse.
3355074
Thanks!

3391394 albeit a somewhat reluctant one at this stage, but yes lol XD

Also... salads... they are the healthy candy of ponies... we just need to harness that and somehow implant it into all children...:pinkiecrazy:

3442676
Spamming my notifications? Nonsense. I practically feed on notifications. It's a key trait of my specie--uh, forget I said that.
3441160
Pretty much.
3442022
I do what I can. :moustache:

3444198
I can't confirm anything except for the fact that the relation between humans and magic is rather...strange in this story.

3223359 I can just imagine the birth...

"OH SWEET HOLY FAUST WHY HAVEN'T THESE DAMNED HORSES INVENTED MORPHINE!!! THIS FOAL'S HEAD IS TOO BIG! HOW IN THE HELL DO THEY PASS A DAMNED BASKETBALL?! I'M TEARING!!! AAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!"

Magnificent... (Alondro is a sick bastard...) :pinkiecrazy:

Now I'm wondering what triggered the spike in views. Sadly, it's not a new chapter.

3446248
My Little Pony: Spinal Analgesics Are Magic.

2765923 "Nicholas Cage"

Oh god, my metaphorical sides

3448641
Spoiler for the ending:

Oh, no," Trask shrieked as the insects swarmed him. "No, not the bees! Not the bees! ARRGHH! AHH, THEY'RE IN MY EYES! MY EYES! AAAAAHHH!

3447483
Thanks!
3448003
So, if Sonora got married and then kept getting drunk all the time...

...would that make her a salt wife?

Well, this is fascinating. It's not every day I come across a second-person story that isn't a vicarious-experience clopfic. Definitely looking forward to more, whenever it may come.

3464629
Much appreciated!

So uh... why isn't Sonora warning the hell out of the other ponies that there's a superwizard out there gathering power to destroy the planet?

"Oh by the way I asked about transforming because a wizard named Trask changed me into a unicorn mare with as much effort as it takes you to brew coffee."
"Oh by the way all these monsters are showing up because a wizard named Trask got bored and decided to punch a hole through reality into your world. And he's going to keep doing it, so uh, you might want to stock up on alfalfa stores."
"Oh by the way if you ever see a human with a tacky cape, black hat and a mullet, don't engage because he's a superwizard who eats ponies for breakfast."
"Hey you know, I'm looking for a few fellows, humans, who might have the power to stop Trask if they can just get the jump on him. You seen any?"
"Why am I training so hard to get my magic stronger? See there's this guy named Trask and he thinks I'm going to attack him by volleying foals out of my crotch, so I decided to surprise him and blow a hole in his chest with my horn instead."

:rainbowhuh:

Is she just waiting for the right spit-take moment?

3495952
Sonora already did try to explain the situation to Fairweather--unfortunately, due to a combination of her explanation's extreme strangeness and the fact that she was absurdly drunk, her story was taken with more than a few grains of salt. (Pun intended.)

3499577

OK. I'm going with the "waiting for the right spit-take moment" hypothesis.

3520608
The protagonist is a bit too genre-savvy to see a pastel-colored cartoony world that looks like it was rendered in Flash and not come to any quick conclusions.

Comment posted by Chrome Masquerade deleted Nov 22nd, 2013

3522848
I suppose it depends on which city you live in. :rainbowwild:

Is this a crossover with something? I'd like to know before I plunge in and thoroughly confuse myself.

3556944
No, it's an original fic.

3557855
Well, then, consider it read... as soon as I find the time, lol.

3522857
It doesn't matter where you live, what matters is the person.

3575732
Fuck Cthulhu, we need... me!
Jungle Jesus to the rescue..

3575813
I am king, voted for myself, won <3

3575884
This somow reminded me of Magicka...

God I hope I can see more of this story!

SOOOO is this story dead or will it be continued? :derpyderp1:

3750897
All in good time...
3820710
It will be continued, it's just that I'm kinda tied up with working on Terms of Employment right now.

Waiting...:trixieshiftleft: Waiting...:trixieshiftright: waiting...:ajbemused: Waiting...:applejackunsure: Waiting...:rainbowhuh: Waiting...:facehoof: Keep waiting...:trollestia:

3989983 Quicksand can be found in a desert, it's just an air pocket underneath sand without the moisture that jungle quicksand has.....

3579297 I also voted myself king. I won. I displaced you. BOW BEFORE ME SCUM!

And still waiting

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