Forming relations

by InsectivoreInc

Misunderstandings with firearms

I don't think Dax would have allowed guns to be lying around, but Dax's grandfather did. In the house there were six .44 revolvers, two 12 gauge shotguns, and a 9mm SMG. This wasn't even counting the laser weapons I found, which tripled the total weapon count in the home. Dax was going to be pissed, but that could wait. Gilda and company had begun there attempt breaking and entering, which had yet to activate Dax's defense system.

“Gilda, if these humans are as dangerous as you say, then why are we trying to break in?” Rainbow Dash, the voice of apparently reason, asked.

“Think of the sweet stuff that could be in there!” Gilda yelled.

It was true, we had some sweet stuff.

Pinkie was giving off seven different variants of rage, “Watch your... everything! And stealing? That's not friendly neighbor like!”

“Oh, buzz off! They're probably not even home—” was what she began to say, when she was hit with five hundred thousand volts of airborne electricity from Dax's security system. I used this as my cue to run at them with every gun I had.

Gilda was thrown off her feet by the volts and probably wouldn't have a pulse for a few minutes, so I aimed for Rainbow Dash first. I charged a Space-Blaster™ brand laser missile and shot at a tree next to her. A blue lightning-bolt-like arc of energy fired from the bulky weapon. The explosion left a crater at least ten meters big in the floor and destroyed a couple other trees.

“Sweet Celestia! Run for it, Pinkie Pie!” Fear was thick in the air and I hated its taste, but I needed to prove early on that ponies shouldn't mess with this house. Pinkie Pie didn't seem like she was going to run and Gilda wasn't going to want to get up for awhile if she wasn't dead.

“Get offa my lawn!” I put on my craziest smile and started randomly firing as many weapons as I could.

-Dax's perspective, the only supermarket in Ponyville-

Oh Celestia, this was awkward.

I stood at the self checkout, doing nothing other than checking out all the products Pest deemed important to our very survival as a unit; a twenty pack of peanut butter and some apples. I had grabbed other things, sure, but Pest only really wanted two things.

The entire town had gone quiet the second I walked in. A large portion had simply fled to the interior of there homes. Some were nice enough to stay outside, but none went back to their daily business. Everypony watched me walk away, as if they expected me to suddenly attack.

I feel like it was a mistake not to.

I could hear the humdrum sound of the freezer running in the back of the store. There was a little foal crying somewhere deep in the supermarket, I could make out a mother trying to quickly hush it.

The supermarket itself was pretty small, thinking about it. I'm pretty sure in pony culture they preferred the homemade products and stores that only sold one type of product. They were a very social bunch when compared to humans and usually knew a lot of the ponies in their community.

I stepped back into the streets. The warm dirt, grit, and rocks slipped between my toes, and was a good distraction from the people...err, ponies... watching me. In all honesty, I should have worn shoes, but it had slipped my mind to put them on.

“Hey! Y'all there! Um, monkey?” A voice called from my left. I turned to face an apple stall being run by a pony. She had an orange coat that seemed almost sun bleached, coupled with her strong physique, it was was obvious she was a worker. She nervously messed around with her stetson hat.

Please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me. Please.

I gulped in a quick breath, “Yes?” Oh god, I sounded too sincere. She'll think I'm okay with talking and want to do more of it. Come on Dax, sound rude, you haven't slept a full night since you first met Pest.

“I just noticed that you bought some apples,”–she gestured a hoof at my bag–“and thought I'd tell ya that my apples are better quality and only a little more pricey,”.

Oh, sweet Celestia, she was the worst kind of Good Samaritan, the social kind.

“Well, I'm currently unemployed so every penny and bit counts,” I have had sixteen years of practice and trial runs to lead to this event. Fake smile, try to walk away, trip, pretend I didn't trip, repeat. I put on my second biggest faked smile to date and slowly back peddled.

“Oh, please!” she shouted, “you got braeburns so bruised that they look like red delicious! Just buy some apples, I'll take these off your hooves and give you some for free. I'm that confident that you'll come back!”

She looked at me, slightly annoyed. What did I have to lose? The bag that held all the apples was beginning to leak, and the mares face told me this was a one time offer. I wordlessly handed the bag over to her.

“Thanks, miss...?” I kept the sentence open.

“My names Applejack, but my friends call me A.J,” she thrusted out her hoof in a greeting.

I gently took her hoof and shook it, “Thank you, Applejack,”.

Maybe it was the way I said her name, but she seemed hurt. Before I put too much thought into it, I picked up the bag of new apples and ran off. I am not exaggerating. I ran away.

I really hate social interactions. I hope I've made that apparent.

About half way between the town and my house I slowed down to a brisk walk. My legs burned from the strain and my throat was raw from breathing heavily, but it was worth it. Applejack seemed nice, but friendship would keep me from making the world a better place.

I was so deep in thought, trying to justify my behavior, that I didn't notice three ponies run into me. Humans normally way a little less than ponies, and while I'm tall, I'm a little underweight at about seventy-six kilograms. A single pony averages at ninety kilograms. Three full ponies traveling maximum speed at fifty-nine km/h run into me dead on. Wind speed and resistance are diminishable; as such, they don't need to be added into the equation. How far back would we fly?

Algebra has trained me for this day.

“Hey! Watch it!” I couldn't see the ponies on top of me, because of the absence of air in my lungs and the abundance of fur in my face. It had a surprisingly comfortable feel to it. They probably had their belly on me.

“Um, Dashy? It's him!” The one on my face shouted. There was a flurry of motion as two forms jumped off of me and a third was dragged off.

I laid on the ground, just staring at the hovering sun. It was sort of beautiful now, since I was used to it. I laughed a little. It was just like Pestilentia...

Did I just think that? I shouldn't think like that of Pest, she's like my sister. My enduring and annoying sister who got into a lot of trouble. To crazy for her own good.

Sometimes, she really worried me.

If she died, were would I be in life? I owed a lot to Pest, so much that it wasn't even funny, she didn't know it, but she had kept me from making some horrible decisions once upon of time, when I was at my lowest. She tried to lead me to other bad decisions (like recreational drugs, late night parties, fight clubs, and unisex strip clubs to list a few), but only out of the kindness of her heart. Pest has always been my only friend. She was also the closest person to me in my life, she knew so much more about me than anyone else because I opened up to her. Kids had always thought I was wired wrong in my head, and made sure I knew it. I would never stand up for myself, but Pest would. She was the scrapper I couldn't be.

And there was a good chance she had caused the three ponies to run in fear from my house.

Walking to a building you didn't want to go to is never a long process, so I was home before I knew it. Or at least what was left of my home. Nothing was completely destroyed, but nothing was left un-molested. Trees were uprooted, craters were smoldering, and there was only a griffin shaped patch of un-scorched lawn.

“Pest, front and center!” I shouted to the remains of my home life. A quick rustle of wood chips, and Pest jumped out of one of the many craters in my property.

“What's up? You get any peanut butter?” She seemed to be failing at innocence

I tossed her a jar and gestured around me.

“Yeah, I got into a fight. I used you as a disguise so that the locals would fear you. It got out of hand, and— well, you may want to hide inside for a week or two,”

I took a heavy breath and wept silently at my own expense.

Author's Note:

Comments? Complaints? Concerns?

Comments

[agentreilly2000]

Why is the story picture the technomancer digital hoodie from thinkgeek?

[Lord Charles]

well thats gona be awkward tomorrow.

[InsectivoreInc]

2288466 I was like “what the hell, why not?" I needed a picture and it caught my eye after a few “technology” themed google searches.

[Starlank]

Loving it! Keep up the good work.

[Florida]

Hmm
I wonder what would happen if Dax got into a fight.
Not a random fight of course, more like a fight caused someone hurt Pest.

Fuck, I pity the fool who invokes the wrath of a human. They probably have their own iron man suit in their closets for such occasions.

In other news, Luna needs a good rant from Dax on how no one is perfect, and how she should stop being an ass about things they could not change because it is in their nature.